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berrryparfait · 2 months ago

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sex pollen ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

— ༉‧��ᐟ featuring: zayne, xavier, sylus, caleb, rafayel x fem-afab!reader

— ༉‧₊ᐟ premise: spring is here, and the "thorny" flower is in season. beware, unsuspecting farm visitor, lest you inhale the evil flower's pollen and fall victim to its whims... 「this urge... i can't resist it anymore—!」

— ༉‧₊ᐟ tags/cws: [nsfw] pure smut, literal sex pollen; "spontaneous and urgent need to have sex", piv, creampie, intense orgasms, dubcon, characters are not dating nor have they ever f*cked before (frenemies)

— ♫₊ᐟ soundtrack: pelican town (from stardew valley)

✧ a/n: was the stardew valley soundtrack too unhinged or... anywaysss sex pollen is one of my all-time favorite tropes ever so here's my take on it <3

Sure, he might not be your favorite person in the world, but just for today, you're content with being acquaintances. For what it’s worth, if there’s anything worse than spending a whole day with your begrudging frenemy, it’s losing.

The annual Spring Corn-Picking Festival has begun, and you’ve been paired up with him. Can you put your differences aside and put your skills to the test? Or is there something else—something sinister—lurking beneath the surface, waiting to strike?

The “thorny” flower is in bloom, and no one is safe…

“Follow my lead if you want to win. I did my research, so I know where all the best spots are.” He parts the thick maize, making way for the both of you to trudge through the field. You roll your eyes at his predictable arrogance. “Please. I used to live on a farm. I know my way around—” You trip on a small rock and stumble into his back. He barely even glances at you. “Be quiet if you don’t want to sabotage our mission.” Rude. “Hey, there’s some up there.” You both dart towards the bunch of ripe corn a few feet away, no longer weary and complacent. Placing his basket on the ground, he begins to expertly pluck the corn from their stalks, intense concentration written all over his face.

All of a sudden, a strange smell hijacks your nostrils. “Do you smell that?” He grimaces and looks around, apparently sensing it too. It’s…strange. Foreign. Not entirely unpleasant. The flesh between your legs throbs. Why do I feel…? Your eyes lock with Zayne’s, then travel down to his groin. He’s hard. It takes him two seconds to close the distance between you. “Zayne, what’s going on—” He yanks your overalls down and grasps at your breasts, the expression on his reddened face absolutely feral. “I-I don’t know—” he stammers, still smearing his hands all over your plump chest. “But I can’t stop…” He pulls your panties down in one fell swoop to find you already dripping wet. His pupils dilate at the sight, and his hands automatically move to undo his belt. It doesn’t take long for him to free his erection, which is so large by now you almost feel bad for him. “Wait, we’re in a corn field—” Your words are abruptly cut off by him spinning you around and plunging his cock between your folds, and you have to cling to the sturdy stalks to prevent yourself from falling over. A hand goes over your mouth to conceal your surprised moans. He has you bent over in front of him, back arching against his dick as he thrusts into you and curses under his breath. I don’t like you! You don’t like me! Why does this feel so good?! “Fuck— I can’t stop—” His groans are strangled and pained, his hips moving so fast the field around you blurs into a mess of pale green and yellow. Expletives escape his lips as he slams into you so hard you both come undone, his hot, thick cum filling you up and dripping down your legs as you spasm and shake under his grip. You’re panting. He looks like he can’t even breathe. “What the fuck was that, Zayne?!” you scream at him, flustered and so utterly confused. “It’s that damn flower… Fuck. I’m sorry.” You pull your overalls back up and shake your head, unsure how to feel about all of this. “Let me make it up to you— Dinner. Tonight.” Tiny butterflies drift into the field.

“Would you quit micromanaging?” He glares at you before turning back to the corn, both hands wrapped around its plush kernels. “I’m just saying, twisting it out might be faster.” Always pouting, always bickering. It’s the only thing you two ever do. You’ve never denied that it bothers you, the way he acts as if you’re beneath him. “If you’re so confident, you do it.” You take the bait and push past him, sandwiching yourself between him and the stubborn stalk of corn. A smug grin plays at his lips when you fail to pull—no, twist—it out, his arms crossed over his chest.

Xavier sneezes. He brushes it off as a one-time thing at first, but then he sneezes again. Hay fever? he thinks to himself. Suddenly, the image of you working your hands around the cob of corn—squeezing and pulling at its base—is too much for him to bear. He’s imagining his dick in its place. You don’t realize it at first, but you’re getting wet. You feel the abrupt, inexplicable need to grind against something. Anything. All at once, you push Xavier to the ground and sit down on top of him. “Do you feel that?” you whisper between gasps, the pool of need between your legs growing by the second. He nods breathlessly, uncertain, but wanting all the same. Your hips involuntarily roll against his, and you both suppress a moan. The next thing you know, you’re grinding against his rock-hard cock and relishing the sounds of his tortured groans. “I’m—so horny—right now—” His voice is fried, needy. You lift the skirt of your dress and pull your panties to the side, clearly sopping wet. His jeans are unzipped. In what seems like an unimaginable moment, you’re bouncing on his dick and screaming out in pleasure. Why does he…feel so good… Your thoughts are a mess, part confusion and part unbridled lust. The way he rubs against your walls, jerks upwards to meet your thrusts, whimpers like a man starved—it’s everything you never knew you needed. You roll your hips at just the right angle, and he gets impossibly bigger before shooting warm spurts of cum into your cervix, his thighs clenching underneath yours as the most intense orgasms the both of you have ever had crash over your joint bodies. You roll over to lie down beside him, still in shock. “W-What was that?!” He turns to look at you and gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear—ironic, considering your entire head’s a complete mess. “I didn’t know you had that in you. You didn’t even kiss me.”

“Perhaps we’d get there more quickly if you stopped whining,” he jabs, already five feet ahead of you. His demeanor remains cool and composed, yet frustration simmers beneath the surface, visible only to those who know the enigma of a man well enough. Unfortunately, “those” includes you. “I just can’t believe I’m stuck here with you. Of all people.” Without looking back, he replies, “Are you sure this isn’t your desire for me speaking? Because judging by the way you were eyeing me just now…” You huff at his ridiculous statement. “Ha! You wish. Sleeping with you is the last thing I’d ever want, so keep dreaming, buckaroo.”

You don’t hear his reply. A sharp, almost sweet scent attacks your senses, conquering your mind almost instantly. You sway amongst the stalks of grass, trying to make sense of the sudden urge you’re feeling—the urge to bury Sylus’ dick between your legs. I hate him I hate him I hate him— Your hands reach out to grab him before you can stop them, and he spins around abruptly to gently push you away. “Having a change of mind?” He means the question as a joke, but the sound of his gravelly, seductive voice only intensifies the throbbing in your cunt. “Shut up and fuck me,” you spit, fully convinced you’ve gone insane. But he doesn’t object. The cocky grin vanishes from his face as he unbuckles his belt and pulls his pants down, apparently devoted to the task. His underwear is still on by the time he’s lying on top of you, pupils dilated and erection rock solid. Overcome, he dry-humps your clit for a whole minute, the pressure so rewarding that he can’t bring himself to remove his boxers. “Fuck, baby— What are you doing to me?” He hisses when you yank them down yourself, eager to bury his cock deep inside you. No time is wasted. In a single thrust of his hips, he’s plunging all the way into you, so big you cry out in delicious pain. Your hips move in tandem with his, mud covering your back and seeping into your hair—but you couldn’t care less. His length is pumping in and out of you so hard your eyes roll to the back of your head, and distantly you wonder how long you’ve secretly needed—wanted—this. He grunts with each jerk, wet squelches filling the air as the strawberry-picking competition is forgotten, sweet release the only thing on his mind. A stutter—a falter, and he erupts, his thick seed coating your walls and seeping out of your pussy. You both fall silent as the pleasure consumes your bodies, so good your eyes squeeze shut and your throat goes completely dry. “I’m…a mess…” you mutter between pants, pushing him off of you. “Who wants to sleep with who now?” He shoves his pants back on and—blushes?! “It must’ve been that flower. Though… It’s worth mentioning that I’m immune.”

“Alright, let’s hurry up and get this over with.” He doesn’t seem thrilled to be wading through a cornfield with the likes of you, one of his childhood tormentors. Well, he’d tormented you back, of course—middle school turf wars were no joke. You both grew up and learned to tame your reactions a little, but some things never change. The fact that you’re still stuck in the same small town with him, for instance. “After all these years, Caleb is still a jackass,” you quip, already making your way towards a ripe bunch of corn. “You’re just jealous I never dated you.”

The wind blows, and you scrunch your nose at the scent it carries. “Shh— Do you smell that?” His eyes go wide as realization hits, and he rushes to cover your nose and mouth with his hands. “It’s that devil flower that spews aphrodisiacal pollen. Don’t. Breathe.” His expression is grim as he clamps his mouth shut, but he’s already starting to squirm. A small pit of arousal emerges in your core, but he’s clearly having a harder time than you are, the outline of his hard cock visible through his trousers. “Caleb…?” you ask tentatively as his hands slide away from your face, flexing indecisively before reaching towards you. “Caleb, wait a second—” He’s on his knees, pulling your shorts and panties down. Oh my god, this can’t be happening— You gasp as his tongue glides against your clit, the simple movement leaving you wanting more. Your hips grind against his face as you moan his name, lost in the lovely vibrations of his own groans of pleasure. “Get on the ground.” His tone leaves little room for debate. You lie flat on the soil, back towards the sky, and turn to look at him over your shoulder. His dick is out, precum coating the tip as it beelines straight for your inviting cunt. Pure bliss overcomes your system when he first glides in, your walls instantly slickening in response. He pounds into you from behind, his whimpers mingling with yours as you’re swept away by the feeling of finally having Caleb inside you. It’s surreal—ten years ago you would’ve laughed at the thought. Now your mouth hangs open for different reasons. “Faster, Caleb—” you squeak, desperate to reach your climax. He drives into you, clenching hard before he drenches your pussy, a steady stream of cum dripping down onto the soil below. “Holy fuck… I’m sorry…” he whispers, getting up to put his pants back on. An unexpected wave of laughter hits as you recover from the aftershocks of your orgasm, your body sated and…comfortable. “Don’t you dare blame this on the pollen.” He sighs wearily and smiles. “I’m not.”

“If we don’t win, I’m blaming it on you.” Great. This detour was all your fault. You can’t believe this guy. First, he makes no effort to help with navigation. Next, he decides that if anything goes wrong, you’re to blame? Sweet crackers, he’s the most insufferable fool you’ve ever met. Sure, he’s charming—the old ladies back at the farm couldn’t have made it clearer—but you don’t get to have a competitive streak when you’re not the one doing the streaking. Seriously, he’s slow as hell. “Stop talking and walk.”

“There’s something in the air,” he remarks, squinting. It’s the first time he’s paid attention to anything today, so you hear him out and begin sniffing your surroundings. You detect nothing and call him a big baby, resuming your search for corn. “I’m being serious! I swear it’s doing something to me…” He turns away then, so hastily your suspicions are raised. “J-Just gimme a sec!” he calls over his shoulder, “Lemme take care of something real quick—” You turn back around, tired of his antics, but a barely concealed groan stops you dead in your tracks. He’s jerking off in broad daylight, his head thrown back in relief. “Rafayel, what the f—” You feel it then, the throbbing ache in your pussy, and suddenly his presence no longer annoys you. You inch towards him, eyeing his hard cock as he pumps it with his fist. At the sight of you staring up at him with a strange, unabashed lust, his thighs clench and he moans your name, the sound of it on his lips sending waves of arousal down to your core. You push him down by the shoulders so he’s sitting upright on the ground, dick so hard it looks miserable. “Bounce on it,” he orders. In the span of two seconds, your panties are pushed to the side and your cunt is enveloping his cock. You’re so full, so dirty with him between your legs—Does it feel better to fuck someone you pretend to hate? His thumbs bruise your hips as you keep your pace, bouncing on his lap like your life depends on it, his tip crushing against your cervix the only thing on your mind. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—” he breathes before pumping his fresh cum into your pussy, your combined cries of pleasure so loud a neighboring flock of birds takes flight. Defeated, you lean against him in his lap, still shaking with desire. His hand goes up to rest on your head, his touch surprisingly tender. “I’ve been waiting all year for that.”

— ⋆˙⟡ ©berrryparfait

《 please do not copy / plagiarize / translate my works or publish them on any other platforms. 》

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netsuijae · 4 months ago

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I would love to see what your hypothetical Kanade crash out would look like ngl (you don't need to draw for this if you don't want to a text explanation would still be awesome)

ok soooo this isn't exactly the crashout but rather building up to it i guess :P

the rest of this post is gonna be rambling and predictions ⬇️

alright this ask enabled me, im gonna just dump all my thoughts as of now on what's to come for kanade's story :) i could end up being completely wrong, but hey im just theorizing and having fun here while i wait very impatiently lol

To start, I don't think kana5 will be on the scale of mizu5 (i mean i might be biased but idk if anything will come close to that level of insanity again), mainly because there hasn't been as much build-up to a breaking point. Kanade's issues have been pushed aside (by herself especially) and not heavily focused on up to this point in the story. There hasn't been any increasing tension for things to reach a climax yet. Having her big break be in this next event would be too sudden and sort of unprecedented. For this event at least, I highly doubt that'll be the case. Instead, I think this event will start to touch on Kanade's buried issues more, and begin building that tension for something bigger. I can see this being a multiple event arc, similar to the events leading up to the climax of Mafuyu's story. Summarizing that, yes I think Kanade's got some real tough shit ahead of her, but that's why this won't be a one-off event story. I think it'll just be the beginning.

That being said, to touch more on my predictions for kana5 itself, I think Kanade will start to slip, and the others, Mafuyu especially, will take notice. I can't really predict anything specific, but I think something will happen that will make her question her ability to save people, or cause her to be harder on herself, as she has in the past, to keep composing persistently, neglecting her own needs and health. However, things are different now than they were before niigo. She has more people around her that will be able to see the damage she's doing to herself. But she also knows they all look up to her, and that her music lifts them up. She knows they all have a lot they're dealing with, and she needs to be there for them. She can't let them down.

Then, when Kanade pushes herself past her limits at the cost of her well-being, what will she do then? She meets with the others on nightcord every night, and Mafuyu is living at her place. She won't be able to rot away by herself anymore without people noticing. But she still feels this need to be the group's rock and to be the one to save everyone, so she'll try her damn hardest to prevent the others from worrying about her. She'll shoot down their attempts at trying to talk about it. I think she might be especially stubborn this time around, and it might cause niigo to have to figure out a way to help Kanade, since they won't be able to get through to her at first.

Kanade has shown in the past to get uncharacteristically aggressive when she's pushing herself too hard, as shown above. She starts to take on everything herself, and snaps at anyone who tries to stop her. I think this side of her will be shown more going forward, as she begins to go down this kind of self-destructive path yet again. At least, that's where I think her story will go. Her tendency to work herself to the bone hasn't really been resolved, and she's gone so far with it before to end up in the hospital after passing out. She doesn't care what happens to her, as long as she can save people. The only reason she has ((slightly)) gotten better at taking care of herself is so that she can be able to keep composing without ending up in the hospital again. Not because she cares about her health. Because she must keep composing. She still only does the bare minimum for herself. If it's her cooking, she's only having instant ramen, and most days she's probably not going to see the sun. She still doesn't sleep much, and Mafuyu has said that she's often falling asleep at her computer.

This might be getting a little rambley atp, but my point is that Kanade neglects her own needs in her determination to save others. I mentioned how she neglects her physical health in the last paragraph, but she also neglects her own feelings as well.

She minimizes her own problems or just doesn't even talk about them. I think she truly believes that her problems don't matter, that they only distract her from her goals. The reason she doesn't open up is likely because she herself doesn't believe her feelings are important at all. She doesn't pay them any mind, and she doesn't want anyone else to either.

Of course, I have to bring this card up. I think this is just a perfect visual representation of Kanade's feelings, and it's great foreshadowing for what's to come. Those feelings are buried deep within Kanade, yet to be addressed or solved. THIS is what we're getting into. Kanade, depicted as an angel, surrounded by death. I think this is related to her guilt surrounding what happened to her father, believing it was her fault. That she destroyed everything. But because of that incident, she told herself she has to keep composing, and never stop, in order to save people. She feels like she owes that much, and that that's her sole purpose. She won't allow herself to think otherwise. No matter how much it destroys her, she must be a savior for others.

Last thing I wanted to add, because I saw this reblog under a prev kanade analysis post, and they brought up great points. Especially how dangerous Kanade's composing grind can get. We wouldn't even have a story if Honami hadn't found Kanade unconscious!!! I think she might get to a really low point again like this, but having Mafuyu there especially, it won't be able to go unnoticed. I don't have much else to add to those tags though cus they speak for themselves 🙏

Finally, just real quickly going back to the little comic I drew, this is just a rough idea of how I think Kanade could act. She'll get noticeably worse, but will try to hide that fact from the others and deny any help from them. I also mentioned that I think we could see more aggression from her again, so I included that, as she feels threatened in a way by Mafuyu worrying about her. She can't let that happen. Also, Kanade's impending doom aside, I think this progression in the story may also spark some change in Mafuyu. She might show some more emotion in this or future events, and she may realize how much Kanade means to her, motivating her to do more for her. I think it'll be a full group effort to save Kanade, but I wanna see Mafuyu taking a bigger role in this. I just think this also has the potential to grow Mafuyu's character more.

Also, as for the Kanade crashout, I really don't know how they'll handle that. I can't really predict what they're gonna do with her climax. But I want her screaming yelling and crying !!! like she better go insaneeee 🙏 and I also feel like they have a lot of potential with her seiyuu/VA and stepping out of the soft quiet voice to do some crazy shit, maybe in the songs too pls pls pls give us loud kanadeeee

OKAY THATS ENOUGH YAPPING its 5 am i havent slept....

#watch me be soooo wrong abt kana5 #idk i havent read some of the story in a while so i could be off about some things #but im very very excited #project sekai #proseka #prsk #pjsk #prsk fa #pjsk fanart #nightcord at 25:00 #25 ji nightcord de #niigo #n25 #kana5 #yoisaki kanade #kanade yoisaki #asahina mafuyu #mafuyu asahina

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whateveriwant · 2 years ago

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Task force 141 reacting to their very pregnant wife still trying to clean, cook etc

This turned more into ‘Task force 141 preventing their very pregnant wife from trying to clean, cook, etc’ lmaooooo I hope that's alright

Price

HA! Good one!

No seriously, it's actually hilarious that you think you'd do anything for yourself when your hubby's around

That man has been waiting on you hand and foot since you first got together. So now that you're pregnant and you think he'd let you so much as lift a finger? You must have a serious case of pregnancy brain, sweetheart

Price is doing all the cooking, the cleaning, the running errands, etc. throughout the entirety of your pregnancy (and at least the first several months postpartum)

He's kept you practically bed bound these last few months to the point where you think there's a perfect indent of your body molded into the mattress

Seven months in, he's suddenly called away to a quick mission halfway across the globe, and you think finally you'll get some of your autonomy back...

Well, think again because who should show up at your door the next morning than your mother-in-law herself, ready to pick up where her son left off

She came at the behest of your husband, of course, and was armed with a detailed set of care instructions

What does your husband think you are? Some sort of one-of-a-kind, priceless artifact that needs special handling? (Actually that's exactly what you are. Price-less… I'll see myself out 🚶🏻‍♀️)

Ghost

When it comes to having some semblance of independence during your pregnancy, Ghost will give you a bit of a longer leash than Price, but only just so

You’re going for a walk around the neighborhood? Hold on, let him grab his coat to join you. Or you're going into the backyard to tend the garden? He'll pull the weeds while you water the plants

But when it comes to letting you do certain things, there are some hard nos that he will absolutely not budge on

You try to use a stepladder to reach the top of the cupboard? Stop! You'll break your neck! You try to pick up anything heavier than 10 pounds? Stop! Give it here! You try to drive?... Don't even fuckin' think about it, precious.

The farther along your pregnancy progresses, the better he gets at predicting (and intercepting) your next move

You were gonna do laundry today? Well, wouldn't you know, he's already got a load going in the washer. You were about to make dinner? Well shucks, he just ordered takeaway from that Greek place you love

His ability to read your mind is honestly impressive once you get past how damn annoying you find it. Just because you're pregnant doesn't mean you're incapable of fending for yourself, and you're tired of him acting as if otherwise

But really, you can never get mad at anything he does for you. After all, what kind of a husband would he be if he didn't take care of his missus and your little one?

Soap

If you take Ghost’s cautiousness, mix it with Price’s thoroughness, and crank it up to an 11, you get Soap

From the moment he found out you were pregnant, he put your house into full lockdown mode, stopping just short of booby trapping the front door in case you got any funny ideas

You want some fresh air? Just open a window. You want to go for a walk and stretch your legs? Just take a few turns about the living room like you're some Austenian heroine

Don't let him catch you doing any kind of physical labor, because so help him Jesus he will grab a spray bottle and use it like you're a feral alleycat he's trying to house-train (he wouldn't really... but don't test him)

You try to unload the dishwasher? Ehrr! Wrong move. You try to remake the bed? Ehrr! Nice try. You try to mop up your own mess. Ehrr! Enough already. You try to– OCH, WOULD YE BLOODY SIT DOWN, WOMAN?!

For nine long months during his requested leave from work, your husband is attached to you like some kind of loving, smothering barnacle

But doesn't he miss his job, or the lads for that matter? What if the world needs saving? What will they do without him?

Well, (in his exact words) fuck the rest of the world! You're his world, bonnie, and he'll give you everything you could ever wish for and then some

Gaz

By far, you have the most independence with Gaz than you would with any of the other three men… at least, at the beginning of your pregnancy, that is

Once you get to around five or six months he becomes just as helicopter-y as all the others; he's just ever so slightly more bearable, perhaps

There's lots of peeking his head around the corner to check on you throughout the day or appearing seemingly out of thin air whenever you're doing something he'd rather you wouldn't

You've lost count of the number of times you've been in the middle of cooking or hanging up the laundry or whatever and his hand has suddenly appeared out of nowhere, gently taking the object from you before directing you to sit and rest

And like, look. He knows you can handle yourself. He knows you could conquer the whole world if you wanted to. That's one of the things he loves about you the most

But seeing you like this – so fragile, so vulnerable, so beautiful and soft and pregnant with his child; his child – it just… It makes him…

He just needs to do these things for you, alright, love? Just let him take care of you, please? Would you let him do that?

You already have so much you have to carry. Let him ease some of the burden off your shoulders. Let him do these small things for you because they don't even compare to all that you're doing for him 🥲

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pnutjlly · 23 days ago

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can't sleep?

john walker x fem!reader

summary: you go to the kitchen for a drink to quench your 2 A.M. thirst. only when walker walks in do you realize you're in your panties and a black tank top. cw: nsfw, slightly smutty, sexual tension, kissing, he calls you princess wc: 1.6k

Your eyelids gradually become heavier from exhaust and sweat from both training with Walker and thoughts about training with Walker. You've thought about getting with Walker before, but you never took it seriously since you thought he was out of your league.

The one-on-one training with him today brought some of his lingering eye contact and subtle bicep flex around you to the point of realization. You don't think it'd be normal for a friend to stare at you longer than one should when you take gulps of ice-cold water during a break as sweat drips down your neck, all the way down to between your boobs. You also don't think it'd be normal for a friend to be where you are 99% of the time, coincidentally.

It's been hours of contemplating whether or not to knock on Walker's door. You assume that a cold drink from the kitchen could wash away that thought. You sigh as you sit up on your mattress and let your feet touch the cold floor. You take a few steps to the door.

The door releases a creak as you slowly swing it open. Your bedroom is right in front of Walker's. You stare at his door, hoping he'll come out and kiss you, but that's just a thought— one you've been daydreaming about for weeks.

"God, please. Make it stop, make it stop..." you curse as you hurriedly make your way to the kitchen. The mess from the game night session from a while ago remains. You predicted no one would clean up when alcohol makes a special appearance in little events like this. Yelena and Alexei had to beg Bucky together to involve a "little" alcohol for a "little change," after weeks of persuasion, he finally said yes. You bet he'll regret saying yes when he sees this crime scene tomorrow.

Cold air gently strokes your face as you open the refrigerator, looking for the can of Zero Sugar Vanilla Coke you hid from your housemates. When you can't see the can where you last placed it, your heart drops a little, so you look in other areas of the fridge. You whisper-scream "Yes!" when you find the can in a different spot. You grab and press it against your warm cheek, making your way down to your neck, successfully relieving some stress from all the yearning.

The sound you've been craving, besides Walker's moans, finally echoes throughout the kitchen: the popping and crackling from opening a soda can. The fizz flows right out of the can, the dark liquid dripping over your fingers. You immediately bring the can's opening to your lips to prevent any more mess from happening.

You've accomplished your mission, so you gently close the refrigerator door.

Due to the lack of light in the kitchen, you genuinely couldn't tell at first whether the tall figure standing before you was a ghost or a demon. Fortunately, and unfortunately, it is Walker. You stare at him like a raccoon caught red-handed rummaging through the garbage. The light from his now open bedroom saves you the extra staring to know who the person is.

His eyes scan your body up and down. You were able to crack out a "Hey... you." amidst your shock that, surprisingly, you are hiding better than expected. "Hey, you." He replies in a tone mixed with confusion and amusement.

"Can't sleep?" "Yeah. Was thinking about cleaning up all this mess to save us from a certain someone's the-importance-of-cleaning speech in the morning."

He lazily points to the living room mess you are partly guilty of. You nod.

"And you?" "I was just... I was thinking about cleaning up that mess, too." "In your underwear?"

You furrow your eyebrows at him in confusion. You immediately look down to your bottom half. To your surprise and demise, you're in your Calvin Klein underwear. That's why it felt a little colder than usual. All you could do at this point was release a defeated "oh."

"Uh-huh... Well, no, actually. I'm- I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting anyone to... come in here at—"

You inhale sharply and take a quick look at the oven's clock.

"—2:42 in the morning." you immediately exhale right after your awkward apology to release the tension on your shoulders. It turns out to have absolutely done nothing for you.

"Right. Of course. You live with six other people. That's just not common at all, princess."

He teases, and there goes his lingering eye contact again. His face doesn't express any disgust or repulse; the corner of his lip hooks up subtly, and his eyes won't dare to look at anything that isn't a part of your body. If you didn't know any better, you'd say he likes what he sees. You both know your interactions with each other after this moment won't be the same again. Ever.

"I'm gonna go dress up and come back to help clean that mess up," you power-walk past him on the way to your bedroom while having one hand pull down your tank top. "If it makes you feel any better, I wouldn't mind if you helped me clean up in your underwear." He quips. "Wait, that's not what I-" You shut your bedroom door close, leaning against it and shutting your eyes intensely to process what had just happened within two minutes.

You shake your head off to save the reflection for later; you have a living room to clean up and a guy who just saw you in your underwear to help. The urge to scream into your pillow distracts you from finding sweatpants in your messy closet. Thankfully, you find a grey pair. You struggle to get both legs in the sweatpants, hopping to your door to come back to help Walker immediately.

You take your final deep inhale and exhale to prepare for the following cursed hours of awkward and sexual tension. You swing your door open to— Walker? His hand is up in a loose fist as if he was about to knock.

"Jesus Christ, John! How many times are you gonna give me a heart attack tonight?" "Today." "Today-- whatever!"

You bury your red and hot face in your cold, slightly sweaty palms. The butterflies in your stomach make you feel as if the universe is bullying you—

"That was embarrassing. I'm sorry you had to see that." "No, I'm lucky I was the one who saw that. So... thank you."

— or maybe not. You look up at him; the height difference between you and him is prevalent now. He towers over you. You could tell from your angle that he doesn't know whether to focus on your lips or your eyes. He's waiting for some "green light."

"You're so weird," you whisper as you lift your arms and wrap a hand on the back of his neck, the other cupping his cheek. As soon as he receives this green light, he places his hands on your waist and silences your lips with his as if he never had any second thoughts about doing it.

His hungry but assuring kiss relieved the stress from weeks of attempting to confirm your feelings for him and his feelings for you. His slightly grown beard prickles your face gently, contrasting his soft lips. Your lips separate from his for a moment, and the following silence serves as an opportunity for the both of you to check if the other is doing fine. You admire his baby blue orbs that linger on your eyes and swollen lips.

You plant a peck on his lips, and he immediately follows as if he had predicted it.

His fast breathing begins to match yours, but you don't need any more confirmation that he's completely all for you; you are becoming impatient but want to savor this moment. You want more of him.

He presses his lips against yours, guiding your steps further into your room by slightly tightening his grip on your waist and walking with you.

"Come on, princess."

His rough hands make its way down to the back of your thighs, just right under your ass. You immediately understood his intention since you had been daydreaming about this very moment for weeks. You jumped and wrapped your legs around his hips, securing your arms around his neck. He catches you effortlessly and carries you like you weigh nothing. He adjusts the way he's holding you one last time, and you can't help but release a chuckle-sigh; it's as if he's flexing his strength even at a time like this.

You press your lips against him while a hand combs through his blonde hair. You could feel a super soldier trying to fight a smile so the kiss wouldn't break. He swiftly shuts the door with one foot and makes his way to your queen-sized bed that he "mistakenly ordered," never breaking the kiss.

He gently lowers you onto the bed, his tight navy Henley and your tank top rustling against the linen sheets. He breaks the kiss to hurriedly take his top and your grey sweatpants off, meeting your Calvin Klein underwear once again. He lowers himself to be face-to-face with you, the tent building up in his pants grazing your clothed pussy. You release a moan, and he takes the opportunity to join his tongue with yours.

His arm supports his entire body up; the other goes under your back in an attempt to pull you closer to his body as if it isn't already. You wrap your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck.

He separates the kiss, only a string of saliva connecting your lips with his.

"Vanilla coke?" he asks through a smile.

#john walker #thunderbolts #us agent #john walker x reader #john walker x you #john walker imagine #thunderbolts*

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twilightofthesandwiches · 21 days ago

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Pretty much as soon as the first Chapter of Deltarune came out, people were pointing out how the ending theme 'Don't Forget' came off as very... double meaning-y. It was ambiguous in a way that it could come off as very comforting and heartfelt or very creepy and threatening depending on how you interpret it.

My prediction (based on just, General Vibes of the kind of narrative I think Toby Fox wants to make) has always been is that both the heartwarming and sinister meanings of the song are True and present in the game. There's gonna be some Stuff happening in the game that will make the lyrics of this song come off as very sinister, but also stuff that make it seem like an honest heartfelt song about friends sticking together.

And I think that's pretty much what's been going on, especially with Chapter 4.

Cause while we already had the light running low, and places that we know turning into fantasy and light quite literally shining in our SOUL, the ending of Chapter 4 brought up one very important piece of lyric that wasn't really accounted for before.

The promise in our hearts.

So "Don't Forget" can be interpreted as a song from the Evil Phone Voice and/or the Knight (it's probably Carol Holiday, but I don't wanna make definitive statements before the whole story is concluded cause Toby might have one or more narrative curveballs up his dog-sleeve) reminding Kris that no matter where they are, even in the depths of the Dark Worlds they are bound by whatever Promise they made to follow Evil Phone Voice's plans.

"Don't forget, I'm with you in the dark" would be especially chilling if Carol is the Roaring Knight (or that it's Dess, 'the promise in our hearts' meaning they are both bound by a promise to Carol). It would be basically the Knight singing "hey you better not try anything funny or go off-script because I can and WILL kick your ass".

But, well... this isn't necessarily the only 'Promise' in this game. There are less 'official' and less sinister promises as well. Like Susie's promise to decorate Ralsei's room, and Ralsei's promise to be more honest with Susie and, well...

"Don't Forget" could also easily be about the promises of friendship between the Three Heroes, and their promises to try and prevent whatever terrible fate the Prophecy has given them, and to be there for each other in the Dark.

Especially when you consider the context for the scene where 'the light inside your SOUL' became very literal

was a very heartfelt scene of the friendship and caring both Susie and Ralsei hold for Kris.

In a way, the two interpretations of 'Don't Forget' kinda represent Kris' dilemma at the end of Chapter 4. They're essentially hearing "don't forget, I'm with you in the dark" from both Susie and the Evil Phone Voice.

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hope-for-the-planet · 7 days ago

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Perhaps it's just me. But right now, with the rapid global transition towards green energy, reforestation and conservation efforts, laws, genuinely crazy and huge innovations that can help us adapt to the changing world... it feels like we're on the right track.

Perhaps it's just me. But the geopolitical insanity that I see and learn from my peers all over the world, doesn't feel like the end. No, it... it feels like change. The last horrible and panicked gasps of the dying old, because it refuses to accept that it is not sustainable anymore, and the world is moving towards the better, through protests and unity and human goodness. I've seen this before - in stories from the older generation, and in history books.

But I also feel terribly guilty whenever I start thinking like that, for some odd reason? I feel guilty whenever I try and rationalize that despite it all, the world will continue existing, and even in the worst case scenario (which we already have avoided), there would be forests and oceans and species and biodiversity and ecosystems and people and cities and countries to see and love, because after all, nature is resilient and adaptable - just like our species are.

I feel guilty for feeling this cautious curiosity about what the future might hold for us, the bad and the good. Because I feel like I am obligated to be grieving and panicking and angry, like many people are - but that's just... so tiring.

Hi Anon,

This is going to be a long one because I think your ask gets at something difficult that I have a lot of thoughts about.

Your phrase “cautious curiosity” made me think of psychology researcher Jamil Zaki’s idea of “hopeful skepticism”. Which is not assuming that everything will inevitably get better, but open to the possibility that it could and curious to see the paths it might take to get us there.

Our society tends to view a cynical outlook as more intelligent or even more moral, but research shows that a cynical outlook actually makes people worse at predicting outcomes, worse at cognitive and problem-solving tasks, less likely to vote or protest, and even measurably harms their physical and mental wellbeing.

I think the guilt you describe is likely coming from the feeling that while we have been significantly improving conditions for humanity on this Earth and will likely continue to do so in the long run, in the present there are many real humans suffering--it can be hard and uncomfortable to hold these two truths together.

Even if this last dying breath is temporary and brief, it is destroying real people’s lives and many more live in fear that they will be next. The fact that child mortality has absolutely plummeted even just in my own lifetime is both a miracle of humanity and means little to the parent who has lost their child to a preventable death. To quote the philosopher Max Roser, “The world is much better; the world is still awful; the world can be much better.”.

You don't need to feel guilty for having hope for the future. Carrying feelings like hopelessness, grief, and fear all the time is entirely valid, but like you said it is also exhausting—and there is nothing inherently moral about emotionally suffering particularly if it’s harming your ability to live your life or take positive action.

You are right that we are still making progress in the correct direction in many ways. You are right that history is rife with examples of forward momentum provoking a reactionary backtracking but that the forward momentum usually ultimately prevails.

The key here, is to understand that the future path you describe is possible—even likely more probable than a lot of people think—but it is not inevitable. We still have to take action to make it happen. The arc of history bends towards progress only because so many millions of mostly unnamed unknown people have put the work in to bend it in big and little ways.

I’ll end with one of my favorite quotes from Rebecca Solnit: “Hope is not a lottery ticket you can sit on the sofa and clutch, feeling lucky. It is an axe you break down doors with in an emergency. Hope should shove you out the door, because it will take everything you have to steer the future away from endless war, from the annihilation of the earth's treasures and the grinding down of the poor and marginal... To hope is to give yourself to the future - and that commitment to the future is what makes the present inhabitable.”

Reminding others that progress is still happening and that there is hope for a brighter future is important work in getting members of your community to pick up their own axe and make that future happen. Hope in dark times is not just ok or reasonable--it is a precious, vital tool.

#ask #anonymous #hope #cynicism #doomerism #climate change #global warming #climate anxiety #future #inspiration #climate action #hopepunk #hope for the future #hopeful skepiticism #optimism #radical optimism

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soft4gguk · 11 months ago

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yearning | ch. 1

the one that finds you in Jungkook's doorstep after a night out...

Description: idol!jungkook x reader, fwb

Content: porn with loads of plot!

Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: oc smokes 1 cigarette lol, they’re so flirty ouch, so much kissing, cutest little dynamic, dry humping (a personal fave in this house), fingering, protected sex (they’re so smart!!), loads of spanking, jaykay ass man forever.

Author’s Note: i once sworn to never write idol aus because… i know nothing about this man ok? i do not claim to know what he’s like in a relationship or a situationship or in his personal life!! so please thread carefully when reading <3333 that being said, his lives last year and these first couple of episodes of “are you sure?” have me feeling very delulu so here u go!! hope you enjoy xo

★ masterlist ★

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

The moment you exit the club, a gust of spring breeze engulfs you. It makes you wrap your arms around your body, but it amounts to nothing, the little black dress that you’d made the executive decision to wear, in the name of fashion, betraying you. The tequila shots you'd downed before leaving the house sure had deceived your senses, too.

Needless to say, you regret said decision, a shiver running down your spine all the way to your legs, making you jump a little in place as you tipsily look around you. You’d cut the night short. Your friends had found another lonely pair they’d quickly gotten cozy with, leaving you to drink one too many gin & tonics all by yourself. You hadn’t minded it for the first two hours, enjoying the music, sparking conversation with the bartender from time to time and entertaining the occasional stranger. Eventually though, it became boring, predictable, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel a little shitty about yourself.

It was all getting repetitive. Friday nights, the same faces, small talk, ice breakers. Even the strangers you met had a similar M.O., making it all seem predictable. It made it feel like a waste of self, more than a waste of time, and it ate at you in moments like these, where it was strange to feel lonely amongst a sea of people, unable to shake the feeling.

The bright city lights illuminate the night, lacing it with something livelier than your mood and you smile. At least the scenery is always pretty. Pretty places. You hear the laughter of a group of people that stand a couple of feet away from you, they seem happy in that genuine way that reflects in pure, unadulterated beauty. Pretty people.

You think of him.

It’s rather instant. Or perhaps instinctive. The very own butterfly effect of your thoughts because to you, he’s the prettiest of them all. He’d been since the very first day, and as you lose focus of the pretty sights the more you stare into the city lights with him on your mind, you can’t help but think nothing will ever stand close.

A girl stands next to you, audibly shivering as she exits the club and the air greets her with the same fate it did you. She holds a cigarette between her red lips, the fire from her pink lighter shining on her red hair. It makes you crave one, too, rummaging through your bag for your own. You smile when you remember how he would tease you for smoking “the skinny kind” as he would call them. Calling you a bit of a snob, but all in lighthearted nature. After all, he could. He knew you enough to let your closeness turn into inside jokes, banter.

Perhaps giving into a vice could prevent you from falling into another.

“Can I borrow your lighter?” she smiles at you before she’s handing it over. Her nails are pink, too.

The fire feels pleasant for all of five seconds, warm against your face as you take the first drag. You give into one instinct so as to distract yourself from the one that’s tugging at your heart and senses, begging you to make a reckless call.

You check the time.

2:32 A.M.

Jungkook scrolls through the endless list of channels aimlessly. Small snippets from whatever’s playing that he cuts short, not really giving it much thought. He settles on one, solely so he can stop putting exertion on his thumb and go back to leaning against his couch – fully relaxed. He sighs. On the screen, some drama he hasn’t gotten around to watching plays, and the story seems to be developing quickly. He doesn’t care for it, if he’s honest, simply content with the white noise it fills the room with.

Bam leaves his dog house, standing right in front of him and they seem to start an unspoken staring contest. He smiles, patting the spot right next to him on the couch and the pup rushes to take the place excitedly. He gets cuddles and kisses simply for existing. For keeping him company – his presence giving Jungkook more peace than he’ll ever know.

“Hey, Bam, should we, like, meet up in our next life as well? Perhaps I’ll be the dog in that one and you’ll be my owner.”

Bam simply stares and Jungkook swears if he could, he’d let out a deep sigh right now. This makes him laugh.

“Hey, don’t be jumping of excitement at the idea, man.”

At this, he attacks. With kisses, that is – wet, sloppy kisses that have Jungkook giggling and pushing back, though it is no use, his dog is that determined to give him love.

“Alright, you win. Let’s go get a beer. For me, not for you. You’re still too young. One day, son.” His voice takes on a lower tone, imitating his father. Or maybe Yoongi’s, he can’t tell anymore.

He retrieves a cold beer mug from his freezer and cracks the can open, nodding his head at the sound it makes, the fizziness bubbling up before he pours it in the cold glass. He takes a sip as he walks back to the couch, blissed out in leisure.

He doesn’t mind being alone, specially not on nights like this when sleep leaves him and everything but seems more tempting. He likes the way everything slows down at this time of day, the ease of it all. No one to see, no texts to reply to. As for what the world is concerned for, he’s asleep. It’s peaceful, just being.

Plopping down on the couch, he rests against the pillows, making himself comfortable. He must’ve spoken too soon, he thinks, because it’s not thirty seconds after this that his phone buzzes on the coffee table in front of him. He ponders on the possibility of simply ignoring it, let it sit there, facing down. But something tells him he should check the message. It could be important, or not. The pull isn’t necessarily violent, just a quiet voice that tells him so, like a little nudge. He leans forward, setting his beer on the table before he’s taking a hold of his phone.

He gets it now – the pull.

From ___: jungkookie, u awake?

To ___: no

From ___: can I call?

He smiles – so fucking big he almost hates that he does, slightly flustered and embarrassed you have this quick of an effect on him. And before he can talk himself out of it, he calls you.

Seeing his name flash on your phone screen does more to you than anything you’ve deemed exhilarating tonight. The simple prospect of hearing his voice rushes more excitement through your body than any of the mindless conversations you had this evening. Than any of the conversations you’ve had all week perhaps. You smile and there’s no doubt that he can hear it in your voice when you say,

“Hey.”

There’s a moment of silence and you can hear the smile on his face, too. It’s warmth – he’s warmth, even far. How far is he, you wonder. Did you happen to demand of him at a bad time? Will the end of this call find you disappointed?

You cut to the chase.

“What are you up to?”

There’s a pause and you can hear the way he sinks into his couch. “Can’t sleep so I’m having a beer and watching some TV with Bamie.”

He’s home and a giddy giggle escapes you. “Ahh,” you say.

“You? It sounds busy in there.”

“Yeah, I’m outside the club.”

“Fun night?”

“No.” You don’t lie, you never lie to him. Don’t have the need to, or the want to. Everything about Jungkook is comfort – the kind that welcomes.

“Yeah, had a feeling. It’s not really your scene, is it?”

Your head leans to the side, eyes closing for a moment. He knows you in ways most people don’t, and it’s a simple remark but it gets to you. The fact that he doesn’t see you for the parts of you that feel the emptiest settles on your heart. It’s good, you think, to be seen by someone who observes.

“I want to see you.” There’s all the point in the world to be honest right now.

“Come over. I’ll make you ramen.”

“Will you show me your cat?”

There’s a pause. You picture him smiling, biting his lip, running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, that too.”

You sway from side to side, a little drunkenly and a whole lot excited, as you stand in front of his door. It’s brief, but as you wait you make a little reflection on your emotions. What exactly do you feel right now? It’s been so long – probably not that long – but long enough to make you happier than usual to be seeing his face. Anyone else would make you nervous, and perhaps he does, too, if only a little. But it’s a different kind of nervous. It’s laced with sweetness, as opposed to anxiety. And the minute he opens his front door, it’s replaced by something sweeter.

Yearning.

He stands there, glasses and black sweatpants on, signature oversized shirt – something so very home about him. Your eyes widen as you take in his hair, it’s grown significantly, giving you a rough idea of when it was you last saw him. Two, three months ago. He looks good; rested, fresh, beautiful. You can smell him before you even touch him and it makes you smile. He returns it.

Yeah – yearning.

“I like your hair,” you say, because anything else would give you away.

“Yeah?” he runs a hand through it. “I like you.”

“I like you, too.” Let it give you away, you think. Who cares?

“Alright, well- it was nice seeing you.” He says, closing the door in a too casual, yet dramatic manner and you laugh, simply standing there – a little flustered because, oh does it feel good when Jeon Jungkook flirts with you in that boyish, teasing way only he knows how.

He doesn’t close the door all the way. Instead, he leaves it open far enough for you to see the way he peeks his head out, nose scrunch and toothy smile to signal just how proud he is of himself right now.

“Come here,” he tells you, reaching his hand out from the little gap and pulling you closer as you yelp, squeezing through the nearly closed door. “I missed you.”

You’re in his arms again, and the moment he closes the door behind you, his lips are on yours. It’s a soft kiss, one that says I missed you because you know him well enough by now to understand the things he says with his lips, and his eyes. With his hands, too.

“Mm,-“ you don’t want to pull back to get your words out, so you don’t. “Me more.”

Jungkook was always a happy coincidence – or at least that’s what you told yourself in a futile attempt to tame the feelings down. But the truth was that being back in his arms felt like fate, in that gentle way that doesn’t come in a movie-like encounter or in some sort of catastrophe bringing you together. Just being here. Anywhere, with him, felt fateful. You opt to believe in angels right this second just to thank them.

“How are you,” his hand cups your cheek, pecking your lips before you can answer.

“Good- better now.” His kisses muffle your words and you think you could live with this interruption for the rest of your life.

“Yeah, me too.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer as he circles his around your middle. You take him in, not one for big displays of affection yet this one you could never deny, could never not welcome.

It’s a sweet moment but the pull turns hasty soon enough the more your lips become familiar with one another yet again. You run your fingers through his long hair, rejoicing in its softness and length. His hand travels down, slowly but a bit desperately, squeezing when they meet your ass.

What has a promising ending is cut short by none other than your rumbling stomach. It’s rather loudly and you both hear it, laughing in the middle of the kiss you two seem to refuse parting from.

“You hungry, baby?”

“You promised ramen. And something about a cat.” Your lips part and you look at him, a pretty smile on his equally pretty face.

“Mm, yeah. I did. I’m all stocked up on ramen but the cat…,”

“I prefer Bamie anyways.”

You leave his arms, a smile on your face as you walk towards his beloved child’s crate. The moment he sees you, he hesitates for a moment, not yet having Jungkook’s command to leave his space but he’s excited – you can even make up his little tail wagging from side to side.

“Come here, baby.”

He runs to you and nearly tackles you, settling into the floor to give him the proper cuddles he deserves. He steps on you the way he did when he was a puppy, sitting down on your knees as you scratch under his ears.

“No one’s allowed to tell him he’s grown up. He’s little forever.”

Jungkook laughs. “He’s Jiminie’s height.”

You sneer at him, shaking your head at his joke. He stands there, staring at you with a fondness he reserves for certain things that bring him that kind of comfort that’s gotten rarer over the years. He’s grown up, matured and gotten real about a lot of things but not you.

Never you.

You’re still the innocence he kissed you with that very first time and the little bit of fear it wouldn’t go further than that. You’re the excitement he had when it did. You’re the flirty teasing and the falling in trust, opening himself little by little. You’re still something he once dreamt about – he still does. You’re the thing he has and doesn’t at the same time. You’re you.

Your loud giggles as Bam licks your cheek wake him up from his little daydream and he winces at the sloppy kisses he’s leaving. You don’t seem to mind though and he knows that if it were up to you, you’d stay there til dawn. No ramen, no cat.

“Alright, alright. Daddy’s getting jealous now. You can’t have her all to yourself.”

Your cheeky smile tells him you’re up to no good. “Daddy, huh? Have we ever tried that?”

“What haven’t we tried?” He genuinely ponders on his own question.

“Pegging!” You say, a little too quickly and excitedly for his liking.

“Absolutely not.”

“Mean.”

“Come on, let’s feed you.”

You smile. “Okay, daddy.”

It’s a chaos in the kitchen in between distracting kisses and your tipsy antics, munching on Jungkook’s leftover fried chicken as you scavenger hunt his cupboards for anything that could satisfy your alcohol induced need for sweets and carbs. You’d begged for pancakes, but he didn’t have any honey, and what’s pancakes without honey, really?

“Ramen. Enoki and spring onions.” He says, convincing himself more than he convinces you.

“Okayyyyy. Ramen, enoki- what else did you say?”

His thumb and pointer finger rest at his temples in mock exasperation, making you giggle. “Hey, why don’t you go shower? This’ll be ready when you’re done.”

“Will you be able to work a knife with the thought of me all wet and naked in your shower?”

“I’ll get you wet and naked later. Go sober up. Quick, quick!”

You laugh, kissing his cheek loudly and ruffling his hair before you leave the kitchen, making your way to his bedroom with familiarity - like you’ve done it hundreds of times and perhaps you have if you were to count.

You know where he keeps the towels, that it’s the left tap that opens the hot water, the way his soap smells and what brand of shampoo he uses. His face wash and moisturizer are familiar to you because it’s the same brand you use. You’d left them here once and never got the bottles back. He began purchasing them after they ran out.

You put on the same black Carhartt shirt you always do. It feels and smells the same. It makes you yearn and when you miss him, you smile in the comfort of knowing he’s in the kitchen, probably eating ramen from the pot as you take your sweet time in the bathroom.

All clean and cozy, his house always being the perfect temperature with the add on warmth that swarms your insides at knowing you’re with him, you make your way back to the kitchen. He’s reaching for bowls, back to you and your voice startles him when you say,

“Don’t get dishes dirty, let’s eat from the pot.”

He turns to you, a boyish smile forming on his lips at the sight of you in his comfy, oversized shirt. He’s seen you in it more times than he can count but it still makes his insides tingle. Butterflies, dare he say, is what the sight gives him.

“You sure?”

“Aren’t you? Afraid of exchanging saliva?” You poke your tongue at him and he grabs your wrist, pulling you swiftly towards him.

“Not the funnest way we’ve exchanged juices, but it’ll do for now.”

“Juices.” Your nose scrunches at his words.

“Mm.”

He kisses you, ramen getting cold in the pot as your lips make him forget all about his hunger in the first place. Your stomach doesn’t, though. Interrupting your heated little moment yet again.

“Feed me.”

“On your knees, then.” He teases, lips still on yours.

“That sounds more like a treat than a threat.”

He smiles, passing you the chopsticks. “I knew you’d say that.”

“Am I that predictable?”

“With me. Yes. Just me.”

His words are selfish, of this much he’s aware. He knows exclusivity is too much to ask for. He knows the baggage he comes with and the hesitation that shines through your eyes whenever you find yourselves slipping into comfort and familiarity a little too much. How he can almost tell he’s about to go a season without you, just by this comfort alone. But he can’t help but want you, all to himself. He can’t help but say you’re his even if he’s just saying it. And when the smile on your lips meet your eyes in an almost nostalgic way, he knows you feel the same.

“Yeah. I am.”

“I am with you, too.”

“I’d say I tried to talk myself out of texting you tonight, but I’d be lying.” Your chopsticks play with the noodles, eyes not meeting his.

“Why would you talk yourself out of texting me?”

You shrug.

“Don’t.” His voice is firm and your eyes finally look at his. “I’m always- I always want to see you, ___.”

“I know, it’s just- you know.” You say, and he does. He knows what you mean and he’s glad you don’t voice it because he doesn’t think he can bear the words that would only add insult to injury to the way your gaze falls, that spark threatening to dim its light.

“Yeah,” he gets closer, but it’s almost careful. His thumb caresses your cheek and you lean into his touch. “But you’re here now. I want you here now. Come back to me.”

You stare into his big eyes, smiling at him not because your heart isn’t breaking but because you wouldn’t dare break his with the reality of the situation. So you lie, but it holds truth. “I’m always with you.”

As you two eat, in bursts of comfortable silences and mindless yet meaningful conversations, you start to get used to him again. You’re too tired to fight it, and when you welcome it, it’s sweet.

The pot is empty, your bellies full. You lean against the counter as he puts you to date, catches you up on what his life has looked like for the past two months or so. Trips to L.A., New York, photoshoots, late nights in the recording studio, music videos, long flights and a Calvin Klein campaign you shamelessly admit to swoon over every time you pass by it. He asks about you and you keep your updates mostly work related. Long flights, long meetings, long days. Short bursts of inspiration and even shorter waves of motivation. You omit to tell him about the things you’re maybe not so proud of. The partying, the drinking on a wednesday night, the way your friends don’t feel like your friends anymore, more like acquaintances that keep you around when they deem convenient. You think his words could help, provide comfort and advice, but at the same time you fear the reality of the situation could burst the bubble of bliss you find yourself in right this moment.

So you talk. You catch up. You play friends for a while, feel real mature when he shares snippets of his life that involve other people, other girls. People in his radar, his line of work, the love interest in his music video. Jungkook does, too. Feels like perhaps he’s come a long way when you tell him about trips you’ve taken with friends, new restaurants you’ve tried, galas he knows you haven’t attended alone. It’s all fine, it’s good. Total control of your feelings as you take each other in.

Bam interrupts him mid-sentence, a sleepy whine in half protest he lets out as he walks inside the kitchen.

“Aw, Jungkook,” you coo, “he’s sleepy.”

“Time for bed, Bamie?” He smiles, reaching down to scratch under his ears. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be here.”

You smile, well aware that he keeps his dog bed in a cozy room in his house, quite literally puts him to bed every night. It makes you think about how good of a dad he’ll make one day, how much love is stored inside of him, how he likes to be needed and shows affection through acts of service. Your smile drops a bit, a feeling taking over you that you don’t like but have grown used to over the years.

You snap out of it, busying yourself as you begin to tidy up the kitchen, sliding his pink rubber gloves over your hands before you start washing the single pot, knife and chopsticks he’d used to make you dinner. It doesn’t take him long to be back, though, walking back inside the kitchen and smiling at the sight before him. You hum a song he can’t make up, hips shimmying to the beat as you scrub the pot. Your shirt rides up a little and he cocks his head to the side, smiling at the way your underwear peeks from underneath the fabric. A black and lacy thong that has him nodding his head in boyish satisfaction.

“You don’t have to do that,” he tells you, making you jump in place a bit at the sound of his voice.

You turn around, bringing a gloved finger to your lips as you shush him before you’re pointing it at the couch and shooing him away. “I’ll only be a second. Wait for me there.”

“‘Kay, boss.” He army salutes you, turning around and walking back to the couch, sitting down and sinking further into the cushions, legs spreading as he scrolls through his phone, a bit impatiently, missing you even though you’re so close.

And to Jungkook’s great fortune, he doesn’t have to wait for much longer. Wrapping it up in the kitchen, you give it one last glance to make sure it’s back to its pristine state before you’re making your way towards him. He looks up at you, throwing his phone to the side and following you with his eyes, smiling when you’re in front of him.

“Thank you for dinner,” you say, voice sweet and low, eyes a bit hazy.

“Come here.” He takes your hand in his, pulling you closer to him, bottom lip getting caught between his teeth as you throw your legs at either side of him, straddling him.

“I needed this,” you admit.

“Me too,” he breathes. “I’m glad you called.”

You pout, eyes looking up for a second as you ponder. “You called me.”

He chuckles, not a single ounce of desire to deny you. “I’m glad I called.”

You giggle, arms wrapping around his neck and fingers getting lost in his long hair. His head draws back as your nails massage his scalp gently and he relaxes at your touch, goosebumps adorning his skin. His hands travel under your shirt, promptly finding your hips, waist, and then threatening to go higher but Jungkook wants to take his time tonight. He wants to stay in the sweet state of wanting you for a bit longer. When his eyes are back on yours, you kiss him. He sighs against your lips, bringing you closer to him by the waist, letting his tongue taste your bottom lip before he’s tasting your mouth. It’s slow, a bit sloppy and lazy, holds the quality of anything that happens in the middle of the night, when no one’s watching and time stills for the two of you.

“Your skin is so soft,” he says, lips still on yours.

“It’s your body lotion.” You roll your hips over his, smiling when you pull a low groan straight out of him.

“Yeah,” he says, hands traveling down before he’s squeezing your ass, guiding your hips into his. “You smell like me. I like it.”

“I like it, too.” Your words get caught up in a moan as the outline of his cock parts your slit perfectly.

You pull away a bit hesitantly, hands coming to rest at his shoulders as your hips pick up the pace. You go slow but sink deeper into him with every roll of your lips, eyes never parting from his as you take in the way his face starts to contort in pleasure, mouth parting slightly as his breathing grows heavier, little grunts leaving his lips with every push and pull. His hands travel back down to your hips, squeezing a little at the soft flesh, guiding them as you move over his cock. He’s so hard, can feel you through the layers, can bet on the fact that you’re wet and pulsing for him right now.

“That feels good,” he sighs, gaze dropping as he rides your shirt up a bit at the front. His eyes fixate on the way the thin, lacy fabric of your panties bunches up every time you throw your hips back.

“Brings back memories,” you say, voice a bit shaky when a particular roll of your hips has the tip of his cock hitting right against your clit.

Jungkook smiles, mind hazy but perfectly able to picture the memories you refer to. “Mhm,” he sighs, so entrapped by the feeling he swears he can feel you pulse against him. He likes the way you consume his senses. The way everything around him stills and all he can think about is you. His hands squeeze at the flesh on your hips before he says, “turn around, baby.”

“‘Kay.”

Jungkook feels the loss of your warmth as you stand up before him once again, smiling at him before you’re turning around and sitting on his lap. You press your back to his chest, letting your head fall to his shoulder, your lips meeting his cheek in an open mouth kiss. His hands travel up your body, palms closing around your tits, thumbs playing with your nipples over the thick fabric of your shirt. You circle your hips, chasing the same friction from before but it’s not enough in this position. You bring your body forward, hands resting on his thighs as you throw your ass back at him, your pussy perfectly aligned on top of his cock, making you both moan at the same time. Jungkook’s gaze drops to your ass, enthralled by the way he feels, by the way you look. He rides your shirt up your back, exposes you to him and it only eggs you on, moving against his cock at the perfect rhythm.

He hooks a finger down the side of your panties, letting it travel down, smiling lazily at the way you trap his knuckles between your pussy and his cock, moaning as you grind on them. He can feel how wet you are, dripping for him already even though he hasn’t touched you yet. “Want my fingers, baby?”

“Yes, please,” you plead, voice shaky as you look back at him.

He’d usually tease you, make you beg for it a little longer, but tonight Jungkook obliges. It’s been long – too long – and all he can think about is being inside you, feeling you around him, making you feel good. He takes his time simply so he can savor the moment. So he can memorize it well enough to store it somewhere inside of him, just in case it’s another three months until he sees you again.

He pushes his middle and ring finger inside of you, hissing at your warmth, cock jumping inside his sweatpants in anticipation and a little big of neglect. You close your eyes, pleasure taking over you as he begins to thrust his fingers inside of you slowly, arching expertly every time they hit your g-spot. His free hand squeezes around your ass cheek, groaning when the hand that fucks into you pushes down on his cock, aiding at giving him some much needed friction. You feel lightheaded already, all-consumed in his hold as he takes over your every sense. Your body relaxes and you can feel the way your tummy tenses right away.

“Fuck, I think I’m gonna cum,” your voice is faint but he hears you well enough.

“Already? That was fast, baby.” You don’t miss the cocky tone his words hint at.

“Shut up and don’t stop,” you say, looking back at him playfully.

You see the way he smiles at you before his gaze is dropping back down, fingers moving expertly inside of you at the same pace, applying a bit more force as he pushes in, massaging that spot with the tip of his fingers. The added pressure has you mewling in no time, nails digging into his thighs, teeth biting at your bottom lip to ground you back into the moment as you let go.

“Fuck,” he says as he feels you cum around his fingers, sweet moans filling the space around you and he so badly wishes he could look at your face right now. “Yeah, baby, that’s it.” He feels the way you contract around him, hips circling over his hand as you ride the waves of pleasure.

You come down after a minute, mind still hazy as you fall back into him, lips finding his the moment he turns his head to the side. You kiss him, breathing into his mouth, smiling in your fucked out bliss. “That was so good.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you say, pressing your forehead to his. “I need you to fuck me now.”

“Want it?” he asks, and you nod your head. “You can have it.”

“Yeah, want it so bad, Jungkook.” Your voice is needy, holds a dreaminess to it that Jungkook doesn’t miss – one that makes him melt into your words, your touch, your lips as you kiss him again.

Jungkook presses his hips into you, raising them a bit as he pushes his sweatpants down. You help him take them off, hand reaching back before you’re wrapping it around his cock. He’s hard and pulsing for you and if you weren’t pulsing for him, too, you’d probably want him in your mouth right this second. He feels heavy, big and thick in your hold, a grunt leaving his lips when your thumb circles around the head. You love how sensitive he is, how receptive.

“Condom,” he says, before he runs out of blood in his brain and it all falls down to his cock.

“In my bag,” you say, reaching to the side and pulling it towards you. You rummage around it for a second too long – a second that has Jungkook’s mind betraying him. He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t. But nonetheless he can’t help but wonder where you’d be right now if he’d been asleep and hadn’t seen your text. Perhaps in the same position but with a stranger. Or maybe a stranger only to Jungkook. Perhaps he hadn’t been the only person you texted tonight. “Here you go, baby.”

Your voice dismantles his worries and he’s warm again, all thoughts vanishing and it’s back to you and him. He leans forward, kissing your lips as he takes the condom from your hand. It makes you blush slightly, biting your lip in anticipation as you watch as he rips the foil of the packaging with his teeth. You watch the way he smirks as he rolls the condom on.

“Why are you smiling?”

“Just thinking,” he says, smile growing wider, cheek dimples making him look cute but something about his voice begs to differ.

You hum. “Thinking about what?”

He smiles. “July 14th, 2021.”

You both crack up, laughter filling the air the moment the words leave his mouth because of course you know what July 14th, 2021 meant. You’d been in a position very similar to this one, perhaps a bit more hazy minded, the true meaning of the heat of the moment finding you the minute you’d realized neither of you had a condom. You’d looked into each other’s eyes and made the silent agreement to be a little reckless and put a whole lot of trust on birth control and Jungkook’s pull out game.

He said he’d never forget that day.

“Long live, July 14th, 2021,” you say.

“Shhh,” he says, squinting his eyes and bringing a finger to his mouth. “Don’t remind me.”

“You reminded yourself,” you bite back. “Now, can you fuck me? Pretty please.”

“Yeah, baby, come here.”

You push your ass back at him, looking at him from over your shoulder, biting your lip in anticipation as he strokes his cock once, twice, before he’s lining himself against your entrance. His hand comes to your hip, pulling you down towards him as you push him inside of you. You both sigh, moaning as he bottoms out, so deep and warm it has Jungkook throwing his head back against the couch, sinking further into it and pushing impossibly deeper into you.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you whimper, nails digging into his flesh.

“Fuck me, baby,” he says, running a hand through his long hair. You nod, circling your hips a couple of times as you adjust to his size before you start moving your hips into him, ass bouncing with every push and pull. He hisses at the sight alone, bringing his hand down as he delivers a hard slap against your cheek, making you moan. “Shit, just like that. You’re so hot, ___.”

“Jungkook,” you whisper.

“Yeah, baby?” His eyes are back on yours, threatening to close in pleasure at the way your pussy feels around him.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, baby. So much.”

You fall into his chest, kissing him as he wraps his hand around your throat, not applying any pressure, just simply holding you. You gasp into his mouth when his other hand travels down and finds your clit, drawing lazy circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves. You whine and he moans when you move your hips to the rhythm of his touch.

“I don’t wanna be on top anymore,” you say, pouting into his lips, frowning when you feel his chest shake in laughter.

“Of course you don’t.”

“I’m an awful top.”

“You’re not a top.”

“Hey, I was a good top that one time,” you protest.

“Mm, yeah, that was hot. You got all bossy on me.”

“Oh, but that’s regardless,” you tell him, pushing your lips into his once more and straightening your back, smiling as you look back at him. He wipes said smile off your face in a second, hand meeting your ass in another hard slap.

“Stay there,” he says, holding firmly onto your hips.

“Okay, daddy.” That earns you another slap, though you can’t say it wasn’t exactly the goal in mind.

“Behave.”

Your face grows pliant as you nod at him and Jungkook has to fight to keep up the front because if he’s being honest, the sight alone drives him crazy, threatens to break him down completely and leave him a needy, whiny mess. He holds you in place, legs raising you up a bit before he starts pistoling his hips against you, fucking you hard and fast and even though you saw it coming, it still takes you by surprise. The force of his thrusts, how good he feels as the pain translates into pleasure, the noises he makes – it’s all too much but fuck, you don’t want him to ever stop. Your mouth parts in a silent moan, eyes closing as your face contorts in pleasure before the sensation ripples through you and you’re crying out. Your hand holds onto his arm and the firm grasp you have on it let’s him know.

“Fuck, I’m cummin,” you breathe out.

“Fuck yeah, baby. Cum all over my cock.”

“Oh my God,” you say, voice shaky and faint as you throw your body back into his.

“Fuck, I love your pussy.”

“I love your cock,” you say, fucked out giggles escaping your lips.

It takes you both a minute to steady your breathing and regain your strength. Jungkook kisses your neck, snaking a hand inside your shirt and squeezing your boob as you arch your back at the feel. “Let’s get you to bed, princess.”

“Music to my ears,” you say, giddy and excited.

Your knees buckle a bit when your feet touch the floor, the both of you laughing at your loss of balance, Jungkook a bit more cockily than you. He slaps your ass softly once, then twice as you begin to walk towards his bedroom. Once inside he takes his shirt off and when you turn around, your eyes scan over his body, metaphorically and possibly physically drooling over him. Your hands find the hem of your t-shirt before you’re pulling it off your body and tossing it aside until it’s landing on top of his. Your tits bounce as you do, and he nods his head at you, a satisfied pout adorning his lips. The pout turns sour the moment you turn around but is soon enough replaced with a smile when you start to crawl on top of his big mattress, finding the perfect spot over his pillows and laying down comfortably.

“You’re so perfect.” Jungkook says, because anything else would downplay it and he’s not in the mood to run away from the truth. You giggle, soft and sweet and he feels the way his heart aches for you inside his chest.

“Come to me,” you say, arms outstretched towards him. He makes his way to you, letting himself hover over you for a minute as he takes you in before he’s falling perfectly between your legs. You kiss him, letting your fingers get lost in his hair, breathing into the kiss and you swear this moment is laced in pure, unadulterated bliss. “Want to feel you inside me.”

“I’ll give it to you, baby. I’ll give you anything you want.”

There it is, yet again, and without a fail. It’s so common you nearly miss it – the way the moment turns tender. It’s mostly soft, this unspoken agreement you’ve fallen into with Jungkook. It’s friendship and attraction, good sex and years of exploring each other. It’s trust and communication. It’s understanding. It’s soft at the beginning and tender halfway through. It’s so tender it feels tangible, like the moment itself could fit inside the palm of your hand and feel ripe to the touch as you hold onto it. It’s tender when he looks into your eyes, it’s tender when his voice says your name, when you kiss his lips. It’s tender when the lust borders on something else. It’s tender when it lingers, when it threatens to fall.

He fucks you, hips moving against yours slowly, pulling moans out of your lips that get caught between his own when he kisses you.

“You feel so good,” you whisper into his mouth, words that only he could hear even if it weren’t just the two of you.

“Fuck, baby, so do you,” he whines, supple and yours, even if for that moment. “I’m not gonna last much longer.”

You smile, hand running through his hair before your fingers are pushing a strand behind his hear. “Cum for me, Kookie. Wanna feel you cum for me.”

Your words throw him over the edge, falling blissfully into you. It feels so fucking good. Your fingers running through his hair, down his neck and then back up again. The way your pussy clenches around him, cock throbbing for you at the wake of his release. Your lips are soft and the rise and fall of your chest falls into perfect sync with his. His hand squeezes at your breast before it’s traveling down your body, squeezing at your thigh before you’re wrapping your legs around his waist, flushed to him. Every little thing you do heightens his senses until all he can breathe, think and feel is you. His face falls down the crook of your neck and you breathe out a moan into his ear, unraveling him completely.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby.” His hips slow down before they still completely, a moan passing his lips as he releases into the condom, your nails softly running down his spine. His body feels spent but he doesn’t miss the way it relaxes on top of you, blissful and peaceful, growing sleepy right away.

“Feel good?” you ask, your fingertips running down his back in what feels like a feathery whisper.

“So fucking good,” he mumbles against the skin of your shoulder before his eyes are finding yours again. He kisses you. He kisses you because in moments like this he wants to say something else, something that makes more sense to his heart than anything his brain could say.

You kiss him back, afraid your heart will betray you, too.

You stare at him as you make your way back to his bed. He lays on his tummy, cheek pressed against the soft pillow, his pretty hair framing his face in a way that makes him look dreamlike. He doesn’t move an inch when you pull back the covers, if only for a second, to get back in bed with him. You lay on your side, eyes still fixed on him and your heart grows a new kind of tender at the sight of his sleeping form. He’s pouty and soft and so, so peaceful. Something sinks in your tummy, but it’s not in a way that signals bad news. Perhaps it’s the butterflies settling, perhaps the heat of the moment has began to cool down.

Your hand comes to his face, fingers gently pushing his hair out of his eyes before you let them wander down his face. His cheeks are soft, his ears cold and when it tickles, he frowns. Your thumb travels up again, smoothing his brow bone and he relaxes. Your eyes follow your touch as you trace the bridge of his nose, slowly, softly, as if you were being quizzed on it later. Wanting to take everything in, afraid that even blinking could take away from the moment. And when your finger lands on his lips, you trace that too the way your own did only minutes prior.

His eyes begin to flutter, a failed attempt to open them but you know he’s partially awake from the smile that pulls at his lips. You feel it on your finger before your eyes meet his gesture and when they do, you close them instinctively, leaning over and kissing him. His body can’t respond to his brain right now, exhausted and more asleep than he is awake, but he hums in satisfaction, lips puckering as he tries to give into his instincts.

“Let’s have breakfast together tomorrow,” he mumbles against your lips. “I’ll go buy honey and make you pancakes.”

You smile, though he can’t see, and perhaps it’s for the best. Your voice is a whisper when you say, “deal.”

His smile is the last thing you see before you fall asleep.

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dollbrbie · 3 months ago

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kaiser (do not reply) : who’s that guy ur talking to??

kaiser (do not reply) : don’t play w me yk i’ll come over and kick his ass

you roll your eyes at the texts that light up your phone screen. how unbelievably childish. kaiser has always been the type of guy that seems to believe you’re still his when you’re most definitely not. besides, you had been broken up for two months now, it was about time for the both of you to start moving on.

that’s why you found yourself talking to some guy at the club, drunk out of your mind, the one kaiser was conveniently also at. you wouldn’t even put it past him if he came only because he found out you were. he was a little crazy like that.

“yeah, but anyways as i was saying..”, you say, putting your phone on silent and back in your bag, smiling back up at the stranger.

you suddenly feel an arm snake around your waist, the hold way too familiar, “hey, baby.”, your ex boyfriend smiles, a hint of irritation in his eyes.

you scoff with an eye roll, “what do you want?”

“just wondering why this guy is talking to my girl is all.”, he shrugs nonchalantly, like he was really still your man.

“i’m not your fucking girl, kaiser.”

“uhh.. yeah i think i’ll head off.”, the guy you had previously been talking to says awkwardly, pulling a straight smile before wandering off into the crowd.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing? i was talking to him! you can’t just show up whenever you feel like.”, you yell against the loud music echoing through your ears.

“y’still my girl whether you like it or not. you think i’m gonna let these loser guys think they have a chance with you?”

“i’m not your girl for fuck sake!”, you yell in frustration, “we broke up, don’t you get it? we’re done.”

you sigh in pure frustration before attempting to storm off, kaiser’s hand quick to grab your wrist to prevent that, “alright, hold on, please. just hear me out.”

you turn around, looking at his defeated face, causing your heart to thump, “why should i, though? it’s not like you deserve it.”

“i know, baby. i know.”, he admits, pulling you closer, “but can’t we just talk?”, he adds, “cmon?”

“fine. where?”

“oh- fuck.”, you whimper out as you feel kaiser bottom out inside you, “baby, please.”

“yeah? what is it, beautiful? use your words.”

you knew this would happen. it always does whenever you and kaiser go to ‘talk things out’. you always end up underneath him, fucking you like he’s never fucked you before. i guess that was one good thing about this.

“too much-”

“nah.. you can take it baby, cmon.”, he coaxes, seeing the way your body squirmed, knowing you were close to reaching your peak.

kaiser knew you and your body too well. the way your legs would squirm and your back would arch when that knot of pleasure would build up in your stomach. the way your nails would claw his back and your legs refused to stay still when it was getting too much.

he knew you like the back of his hand and he knew exactly how to tip you over the edge.

and just like his predictions, you arch your back as you mewl out, “m’gonna cum..”

“already, baby?”, he asks through a breathy laugh to which you nod frantically, your legs wrapping around kaiser’s waist, your pleasure so close to tipping over.

“go on then, cum for me, pretty.”, he coaxes once more, your orgasm spilling over the edge and shooting down your body, your head thrown back against the pillow as your eyes screw shut and your legs tighten around your ex’s waist.

kaiser continues fucking you through your orgasm, your beautiful whines sending him over the edge as he overstimulates your pretty pussy, “what? y’think i’m done? i’ve not even come yet.”, he adds, “and we have a lot of making up to do, don’t we?”

he kisses away your tears of pleasure, smiling to himself as he has you exactly where he wants you. he let you have your time believing you were standing on business. but you had always been his and he certainly won’t be letting you escape from his grasp again.

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk smut #blue lock smut #bllk #blue lock #blue lock x you #bllk x you #bllk kaiser #blue lock kaiser #michael kaiser #kaiser x reader #kaiser x you #kaiser smut #kaiser michael #michael kaiser smut #michael kaiser x reader #michael kaiser x you

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 months ago

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Ruggie Bucchi: Pinching Pennies

The night before the Ruggie card preview came out 😭 I predicted he would wear shorts and an oversized T-shirt… I clocked it www If you zoom into the initial artwork, you can tell that his clothes are frayed at the sleeves and hem. I bet those pjs are well-used and loved.

Aaah 💦 the vignettes show us a glimpse into Ruggie’s world… He really is doing everything he can to min-max what he has. What poverty does to you OTL

Rise and Shine!

“Wow! You’ve got so many things!”

You ogled the contents of Ruggie’s cosmetic pouch. The golden yellow drawstring bag was plump with products. Half finished tubes and bottles, opened foil and plastic packets clamped shut to prevent spillage, and palettes with sizable dents in their pans. It was a smattering of brands you vaguely recognized from the drugstore and the fancy high-end creams Vil slathered on his famous face.

“It looks like that, doesn’t it?” Ruggie asked with a shrug. He sat cross-legged before a washroom mirror, his mop of messy, dirty blonde hair tamed only by a speckled headband.

Ruggie flipped a compact open, revealing four squares of eyeshadow: the colors of cotton candy, peach, caramel, and mocha, each clinging to the edges of their pans. He stuck a ring finger in, frowning when it came away mostly clean. A faint dusting of brown coated the edges of his nail.

The hyena sighed. “Feels like ‘s never enough. This stuff’s mostly samples and testers, plus the occasional hand-me-downs from Leona-san.”

He went back in, this time managing to dig up a small mound. Smushing it against his thumb, Ruggie diffused the color into a soft beige. He patted this along the rim of one eye.

“Hey, free’s free.”

“Yeah, free’s free,” Ruggie echoed with a snicker. “Gotta make do with whatever we can under a capitalist society… well, short of eatin’ the rich. Can’t afford to do that right now anyway, not when I’m kinda countin’ on Leona-san.”

He scrounged around for more of the eyeshadow. A slight growl of frustration sounded from him. Laughing softly, you shook your head and held out a hand.

"Here, let me help you out. I think my nails are a little longer than yours right now, so I can try scraping out the rest and applying it for you.”

“Really? Alright, thanks for the special service~” Ruggie’s mouth cocked into a lopsided smile. He dropped the compact into your palm, then flopped back onto his stool. “Maaan, it feels so nice to be pampered like this.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” you joked, drawing a tawny line under his other eye. “Stay humble.”

A pout. “I’m always humble.”

“Riiight.”

You pulled the color to the corners, then patted it along his upper lid. It was an attempt to recreate his usual look, the simple yet sharp Savanaclaw eye.

Your finger—your paintbrush—pulled back, and you got a good look at the canvas called Ruggie Bucchi. His scrawny limbs and laidback gait, irises that reminded you of a coming storm. At school full jewels—royals and the rich—he was a common stone on the side of the road, but he had always stood out to you.

You found yourself cupping his face, and then…

PINCH!!

"Yeowch!" Hands flew up, his eyes snapping wide open with alarm. Ruggie stared at his reflection, which now bore stinging pink cheeks. “What was that for?!"

You covered your mouth with a fist, hiding a growing grin. For being so stinkin’ cute, you wanted to say. It's hard not to tease you.

“To rouge your cheeks,” you replied cheekily, nodding at his miscellaneous makeup stash, “so you don’t have to put on any extra makeup. Save your actual blush for a special occasion.”

“I don’t normally wear blush.” Ruggie muttered indignantly as he rubbed at his face. “… I respect the hustle though. Just warn me next time before you go off and do that.”

"Haha, okay. It's a promise."

You snapped the compact shut and tossed it into his drawstring bag. Right as it landed, you felt a fleeting sting at your earlobe. Nails biting into it.

You turned back quickly enough to catch Ruggie having risen from his stool. He leaned over you, a hand positioned in a telltale pincer. His gaze met yours, and he belted out a jubilant howl.

Revenge. you suspected.

“Hmm? What’s with that look?” Ruggie asked, his voice set in a playful taunt. “All I’m doing’s helpin’ ya save on money~”

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #Ruggie Bucchi #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #Reader #self insert #Ruggie Bucchi x Reader #something no one asked for #twst imagines #jp spoilers #twisted wonderland imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland scenarios #Ruggie birthday takeover

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reidrum · 11 months ago

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porcelain doll | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

a/n: writers block is a bitch fr but somehow this came out! i just wanna say that if you relate to reader or just have qualms in general about intercourse that its okay and its normal and you're still a wonderful human being at the end of the day ok that is all i love you mwah

cw: smut 18+ minors dni, fingering, making out, no p in v sex but talks about it, reader has an ambiguous reason for it hurting cuz there are like so many gdm reasons it can hurt it's ridiculous, hurt/comfort, fluff, afab reader, spencer is a loving and supportive boyfriend, i proofread this once sorry

summary: you'd been keeping quiet about something personal that you knew you should tell spencer but just couldn't find the right time for, but now it's all come to a head in a hot heat of the moment and you're forced to confront it

wc: 2.6k

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you meant to tell spencer about it when you first started dating.

it’s not something that comes up to discuss in a natural context, like over coffee or at work. by the time you and spencer had actually started dating, you hoped there would be a quiet moment where you could tell him, but even when soft moments came and went your anxiety was the ruling emotion and prevented you from telling him.

that brings you to this moment right now— you straddled over spencer’s lap on his couch with your arms around his neck, his on your waist, wildly kissing him. you had just come home from the bar with the girls, and spencer couldn’t help himself with how pretty you looked as he pulled you to the couch and perched you on his lap.

still being in the somewhat early stages of your relationship, your intimacy with him never went past making out, with you most of the time tapping out after getting too overwhelmed. and spencer always respected your boundaries.

don’t get it wrong, you both still had a lot of fun when things got heated. if you could kiss him every second of the day you would. but being able to feel how much fun he was having always left a pang of guilt in your heart after always stopping. he’d always be heavily panting, trying so hard to hide the discomfort in his pants, and the most you could do in return was dissociate and live in false ignorance about it. it didn’t help that he still so devastatingly kind to you after.

but here you were on his couch tonight, and something felt different. a desire you hadn’t felt before taking over your senses as your bodies intertwined. it’s like every time you’re with him, he makes you almost forget all the insecurities that eat away at you.

almost.

spencer moves his mouth down your neck, leaving a trail of hot love bites before he finds your sweet spot. you angle your head more so he can get better access, and moan out at how fucking good it feels.

he moves his hand to the waist of your shorts, looks up at you silently asking for permission to remove them. you nod and he maneuvers them off, returning to straddle him. his hands move to knead the flesh where your hips meet your thighs, every movement delicate and intentional. it’s like with every touch he transfers his love for you through his fingertips to drive you absolutely crazy.

you subconsciously grind down on him, putting a pressure he wasn’t expecting as he groans lowly in your ear, “fu-uck.” it warms your heart a little, knowing the effect you have on him. your hands tangle in hair and pull firmly letting spencer moan into your mouth as he moves a hand further down your body.

“this okay still?” he breathlessly asks as he toys with the lining of your panties.

you nod again, not trusting your words at the moment. a sinking feeling starts to brew in your gut, as you can easily predict where the next events are going. he’s being so kind to you, and you feel sexy with the way he’s eating you alive with his eyes and touches. the guilt would chip you away if you had led him on this long only to stop right before the good part, just because you couldn’t handle it or something.

but he starts to stroke you outside your panties, and you have to admit that it feels vaguely good. you continue to bury your head in the crook of his neck in the hopes of masquerading any facial expressions contradictory to your words. you just want spencer to feel good, and this is the first step to reaching that goal.

spencer takes the soft breaths blowing in his ear as a sign to keep going, and hooks a finger on the cloth to pull it aside. he runs a single digit up and down your slit, swiping by your entrance to gather the wetness to spread around. when he circles back to give your clit attention you shakily moan out his name and his arm grips you tighter around your waist. you feel his finger descend again and prods around for the entrance again before gently sliding in.

the last five minutes you had been praying repeatedly and silently in your head, please let it be different this time, please don’t let me ruin this perfectly great relationship, please let my body just do what it’s meant to do.

but your prayers are left unheard, and all you can feel is hot, burning pain.

it tears through you, a feeling incomparable to walking on fire rocks even. it’s overwhelming, all consuming, things you would typically describe a normal sexual experience but here your body was, in a cruel twist of fate by being on the complete opposite end of that spectrum.

most of all, it just fucking hurts. point blank, you don’t see it subsiding anytime soon. you hoped the sentiment of making this good for spencer would overtake the signals being sent to your pain receptors. but it doesn’t, it actually intensifies the emotional pain in your heart that you know will weigh on you once this is over.

spencer being the darling lover he is holding you so gently, and yet instead your body betrays his gentle loving touches and receives them with malice.

how dare you?

after a couple minutes, you can’t take it anymore. the panic starts to rise in your chest— from the pain, the guilt, all crashing down like an avalanche preparing to leave you stranded in the rubble.

“spencer…” you grit out.

“yeah baby?” he hums.

“can we-, i think i need to…” you strain. the pain is spreading throughout your body like a forest fire, uncontainable and devastating.

spencer slows his ministrations and pulls back a little, noticing the faint red rings forming in your eyes from the unshed tears, “hey, what’s wrong?” he pulls out his finger complete, subtly wiping it on his pants (which you’ll gawk at later because, who is this man?). even after the removal it’s left you scorned, and you feel it breaking your resolve fast.

“are you okay?” spencer tries to peer into your eyes again, voice laced with worry and dread.

you open your mouth to answer, but nothing comes out. you’re in shock, you think. and you’re feeling a lot of emotions, too many emotions all huddled up in your head begging for control.

spencer sits still below you deeply concerned and confused, “sweetheart, what’s going on?” he desperately tries one more time.

you think your brain has finally settled on what to feel.

mortification.

you squeeze your eyes shut, harshly rubbing them with sweaty hands, “i’m okay, i’ll be right back.” and you don’t give him time to rebuttal as you swing off him and bolt to the bathroom in record speed. after you shut the door and lock it, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. and then everything else falls out too.

your arms clutch your stomach in distress as the panic settles in you, sliding down the wall as you sit on the floor with your knees tucked under your chin. tears blur your vision, and the deep breaths are counterintuitive as they seem to make you more and more lightheaded.

a faint knocking seems to cast a line to bring you back down, and another firmer knock solidifying it.

spencer softly says your name, “can we talk? i just want to know that you’re okay.”

a pang of guilty shoots up your heart and you let out a big sniffle inadvertently, and spencer finds an unknowingly matching pang shooting up his own heart.

“i’m sorry if i hurt you, sweetheart.”

that was the final blow, and you fully begin to sob on the bathroom floor. how selfish of a person were you to let him feel guilty for something that was entirely your fault?

“you didn’t do anything,” you say between cries, “i’m just, being weird.”

spencer isn’t convinced, “will you let me in?” he says softly.

you contemplate the outcomes. he comes in, you tell him about your irregularity, he gets upset with you for not telling him and because you don’t work. or you don’t let him in, he gets upset with you and your stubbornness, deciding it’s no longer worth it to deal with you and he leaves.

solid choices, you think.

swiping at the tears falling still, you think you can’t feel any lower than you do right now. so you reach up and unlock the door but don’t move to open it.

he hears the click of the lock turning and knows he has to open the door. the handle turns and spencer pokes his head through, “i’m coming in, okay?”

you don’t respond, your head still finding solace in your bunched up knees. you faintly hear the door creak open and a figure move in.

if spencer’s heart wasn’t clenching before, someone’s now got it in a death grip with how distraught you look is making him feel. he doesn’t enter your bubble, he doesn’t feel it’s appropriate at the moment. instead he sits in the open doorway, hoping it offers you a comfortable space to know that he’s there but not enough to overwhelm you.

you both sit in silence for what feels like forever, spencer knows it’s ten minutes and thirty two seconds, when you let out the smallest and faintest, “i’m sorry.”

“you didn’t do anything,” he immediately says, itching to move closer to you, “i just want to know what happened, angel.”

your eyes scrunch up in frustration, “ugh, it’s not-“ you falter, this was not how you pictured this conversation going.

he waits for you to continue. “i have this…thing.” you start.

“thing..?”

why does it feel so embarrassing to say out loud, he has three phds and hunts serial killers this cannot be the worst thing he’s heard.

it’s definitely the most vulnerable though.

you turn your body 180 degrees so you’re not facing him, thinking it would be easier to confess to him if he’s not staring you down, “when i like, put things down there… it hurts.”

“what kind of hurt?”

“it’s like a…really intense pain. that doesn’t go away.”

spencer ponders for a couple seconds, “is that what happened a couple minutes ago?”

you nod your head into your knees, letting the fresh hot tears wet your kneecaps. it’s humiliating.

he inches closer, “angel, did you think i was going to be mad?”

you sniffle, “are you not?”

a tentative hand rests on your back, “not at all,” he whispers, “i was just really worried about you.”

worried. people have been angry, apathetic, even sad (for themselves) when you told them. but never worried.

you suppose spencer reid has always been different, defying any preconceptions anyone previous had imposed on you. he always offered you kindness and love when you couldn’t find any for yourself. it was unfair, how much he loved you, and how you couldn’t show him how much you loved him back.

you clear your throat, “it just makes me feel…broken? to not be able to do the one thing my body is made to do. in the past it’s been a dealbreaker for a lot of people, and understandably so.”

spencer has moved to sit in front of you, inches away. he reaches a hand up to push a tendril of hair behind your ear, letting his palm rest upon your jaw. his eyes hold nothing but love, and he waits patiently for you to continue.

“i’m really sorry i didn’t say anything, i meant to tell you when we first started dating,” your voice gets higher as the emotion floods your throat, “but everything was going so good, i didn’t want to ruin it.”

you add one final blow before receding, “i thought when i told you, i would offer you an out to go sleep with some other girl just so you could have that experience.” you lament.

spencer lets your words sit in the air for a few moments before softly saying, “can i hold you?”

he thinks it’s better to have you in his arms before he talks, because as much as his words could comfort you he thinks it can’t hurt for you to feel physically held together after all that’s torn you down.

if he wasn’t watching you so intently he would’ve missed the faint nod you give him. you’re scooped into his embrace with your head tucked under his chin and into his neck. he has one hand supporting your back and the other drawing letters into your thighs, and leans his chin to rest atop your head.

“first of all, please don’t ever feel like you have to ‘offer me an out’, especially for things that are really serious like this.”

“but it’s not fai-“ you try to argue.

“no. you can’t do that. you won’t do that. i don’t care what you’ve been told in the past, but loving and having you means holding every part of you, especially the ones you try to hide. i am not here to pick and choose what i want.”

he holds you the way you would a porcelain doll, achingly beautiful yet terrifyingly fragile.

“my sweet girl, you are not broken. i promise. penetration is not the end all for sex, and it’s not the only way to have sex. studies show that 75% of women feel pain during penetration, sometimes it can be related to stress or anxiety, which i’m sure on top of all that you deal with, that me leaving for cases all the time can’t help.”

he cups your cheek with his warm palm and angles your face to meet his eyes.

“what matters to me the most is that you feel good, and if you don’t feel good then it’s not worth doing in the first place.” he whispers, “if this is something you want to work on in the future, i will be there to help and support you however i can. but if you don’t want to do anything, i will still be there to support you. always. there is no dealbreaker for me, you are it.”

with red stained eyes you look up at him, “are you sure?”

“i’m sure,” he reinforces, “i love you. i don’t think a version of me exists where i am not loving you. you occupy an embarrassingly large amount of my brain, and there’s a lot of stuff in there.” you giggle and spencer feels flowers blooming in his chest.

you sigh and wrap your arms tighter around him, “i love you too, spence.”

you both sit in silence, basking in each others presence.

“you looked so beautiful tonight, i don’t think i told you when you came home.” he softly speaks, stroking your hair.

fiddling with a button on his shirt you reply, “thank you, honey. penny told me to buy that dress, said it’d drive you insane.”

he breathes out, “she was right. i don’t even know if i said anything to you, i was borderline delirious seeing you come home to me.”

you lean up to place a smiley kiss on his neck, “i’ll always come home to you, for as long as you’ll have me.”

“i think i’ll be having you forever.”

“woah,” you smirk, “that sounds borderline stalkerish. better be careful, my boyfriend’s an fbi agent.”

spencer’s eyes narrow, “i could probably take him.”

“eh.”

“eh?”

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kiefbowl · 5 months ago

Note

wait ok genuinely kind of interested in your opinion on porn now......... if only because those big 3 you mentioned are always the reasons i see people throwing out so id love to hear a deeper take than that

I'm genuinely surprised anyone could follow me and not know my stance on porn, but that's okay. simplified and in no particular order and in no means exhaustive:

porn creates perverse incentives

porn normalizes the purchase of women as sexual objects for men to use

porn is often called "rape on tape" by feminists, which I mostly agree with in the sense that if a woman would otherwise not have had sex except that she is being paid, then she is not consenting. you cannot purchase consent, the consent is not meaningful then.

additionally, you can not verify if you are watching people be raped in any other way. porn sites are filled with stolen videos, coerced videos, actual minors, aggressive rape that was filmed with or without the victim's knowledge, and other videos of this nature. there is no way to verify this at all from videos that are somehow not these things. things like "amateur" are often just marketing by the porn company or pimp, or they're stolen videos.

porn creates a social script for sex. this social script is least of all - boring and predictable. it also reinforces the long standing conservative gender understanding (see 2). porn also reinforces ideas of homophobia and racism under the guise of "taboo." porn is literally so conservative, but because it's considered "shocking" to "puritans" (religious men watch porn all the time), people talk like it's this liberal fantasy. porn is constantly reestablishing the status quo in the most perverse ways.

it's been demonstrated that people who are porn addicts very quickly escalate to more violent porn, and that this plays out in their sex lives with their (often vulnerable) sex partners.

the violence that happens in porn is real. the idea that it's a "fantasy" is marketing by porn website and pimps. if a man slaps a woman across the face, that really happened. why does it matter if she says "yes" to it - that's her "job" so how can she say no? (see 3 and also 4).

there is so much evidence and testimony by porn stars of the absolutely awful and terrifying conditions in which they work, even in the quote unquote "real" industry. drugs, alcohol, violence, coercion, exposure to STIs, homelessness, pimping, prostitution, mental illness, suicide, lack of benefits. It's bananas that anyone would be surprised by this when it's pointed out, we're talking about an industry that films sex on video. The majority of people in the sex industry want out. It ruins their lives, and once in it's very hard to leave and lead a normal life. The idea that the industry needs regulation to be "fixed" is bizarre and just seems like pimp and porn industry marketing to get people to look the other way.

Poverty creates porn. Social welfare for the poorest of our women would prevent them from entering the industry in the first place. Women go into porn out of need, not desire. social media pushes that porn stars loooove their jobs is 1. porn site and pimp propaganda 2. literally marketing because men want to believe this.

I am not religious, I don't believe in god. I love sex and masturbation. it's the most natural thing in the world and people don't actually need to "learn" how to do it - it's innate within us. Porn is just one more way to humiliate women in a misogynist society that requires women to be fearful of sex and rape constantly, and uneducated in their own sexual desires and boundaries.

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bonefall · 2 months ago

Text

[ID: Ask from @storiesandsquirrels, transcribed in alt text]

also: link to Cow Lore

There's one major misconception here I've gotta correct before answering earnestly; Holsteins do need Super Duper Food. This is one of their major problems as a breed, you need to give them high quality feed for high quantity, low quality milk.

But! That said! These are valid questions that deserve real responses. In spite of the quick correction, I actually want to answer them as you phrased them because I think it would be more illuminating. I'm going to try and summarize them as I go along;

Question 1: "Why wouldn't we want to use The Most Efficient Cow?"

The simplest answer is disease. My ""prediction"" came true, and bird flu has mutated to spread extremely easily through the infected udders of Holsteins. No one has died of bovine-contracted HPAI yet, but with Brainworm Bobby and his love of raw milk in charge of the CDC...

well. my last prediction was prophetic. let's hope this one's not.

Minmaxing a breed for one specific purpose always means intensive inbreeding. Like I mentioned, 9 million Holsteins are genetically equivalent to 60 individuals. A more genetically diverse population is one that will be better at preventing disease outbreaks, and reducing their severity when they do.

And what even is the Most Efficient Milk Cow? If you're only selecting for pure milk production to drive down its cost, you get a breed of cattle that lacks every other important trait that would make it good livestock;

They get sick more often, due to inbreeding depression and lack of physical fitness, requiring more antibiotics and veterinary care.

They are bad parents who will need more human intervention to birth and raise calves

They won't be good grazers, meaning they need a specific food grown for them, increasing how much "functional" land is actually dedicated to cattle husbandry.

Their carcass won't yield as much meat, so more cattle have to be raised and slaughtered to meet demand.

Their bodies will burn out much quicker than a healthier animal, meaning you need to replace your livestock more often.

When it comes to living beings, "efficiency" is "fragility." It's not a stable system to begin with.

Even with the pure logic aside, just, step back here and look at the situation with a heart. We'd be making unhealthy, short-lived animals lacking critical instincts to lead good social lives. AND we probably haven't even fixed the "less land" problem, just shifted the land off-site.

For what? For more milk? We have SO MUCH milk we don't even know what to do with it!

Question 2: "Isn't an overabundance of cheap milk a good thing?"

no.

Under the infinite genius of Capitalism, thousands of gallons of milk just gets poured into the sewer daily because there's too much of it. Transporting it to a processor would cost more than it's worth, sometimes the processors turn milk away because they don't want to overproduce products, and even the US government can't subsidize every last drop; it still has 1.4 billion pounds of cheese in various caves and warehouses across the country.

The price of milk cannot get any lower because it's already being sold below the cost it takes to produce it, and yet, we're still here literally pouring it down the drain.

[photo from bill ulrich who photographed a farmer dumping milk back during the pandemic. this isn't even a recent photo. this happens every time there's a milk surplus. im using this photo because i like the farmer's cunty little pose. look at him. "just ain't right"core.]

And milk being dumped into the sewer is more than just wasteful. It's a biohazard.

Milk doesn't stop rotting when it's dumped. If you live downstream of a milkhouse, improper milk disposal reeks.

It's full of nutrients, too, which causes diatoms, cyanobacteria, and other types of algae to go into overdrive-- causing a Harmful Algal Bloom event in the water, or HAB.

HABs are horrific. There's HUNDREDS of different types. They can suck up oxygen and create "dead zones" which kills all aquatic life, they can poison the water supply for an entire town, and some can even cause toxic fumes that make it hard to breathe on land.

Now, listen, I don't want to scare you into never dumping out rotten milk or anything! It's that on an industrial scale, it's REALLY REALLY bad if a farm overproduces milk-- especially crummy milk that can't be made into decent cheese or other dairy products.

In fact, if we did produce milk on a smaller scale, it would be better for everyone! Unless you're a Milk Guzzling Fiend like I am, you probably wouldn't need to buy a whole gallon at a time. In countries like Italy, it's sold fresh and in smaller containers, and you're just expected to pick it up as you need it.

This is why milkmen used to exist, and still do in places that are cool; they'd deliver your supply fresh from the creamery. Less waste, less stress! The "subscription model" is actually sooooooooooo much better for milk production, since it helps to stagger out those "surges and drops" of demand that leads to milk dumps.

Question 3: "If the cow eats less, doesn't that mean less land for pasture, which is a good thing?"

There's a lot to unpack within this sentiment. It's actually based on a couple of common assumptions on a few levels, which are incorrect in fascinating ways. Challenging this means opening up your worldview on how complex keeping livestock actually is!

I'll start with the simpler part;

You could cut fresh pasture out of the equation entirely and shove a cow into a concrete pen with a food box-- but are you counting the land growing the fodder?

When you grow corn the way that we do on industrial farms in the US, it's unbelievably destructive. Unending oceans of monoculture. Fogged with pesticide, pumped full of fertilizer which causes HABs like dumped milk does, sprayed with thousands of gallons of wasted water.

When you look at this image, I need you to understand you are looking at a dead zone. Like a suburban lawn, just because it's green doesn't mean it's good. Nothing grows here but corn and pests of corn, which gets poisoned and dies without returning any of that energy to the ecosystem.

This is usually what is being given to "grain-fed cattle," either when they're sent to a feedlot to hit their slaughter weight, or when they're lactating so they need the extra nutrition. It's also so nasty it's inedible to human beings.

Now, a lot of cattle farmers will just supplement their cow's diet, doing a mix of pasture feeding (much cheaper) and grain feeding (quicker gains). But the facts on this are clear; pasture-kept cattle result in LESS emissions and need LESS total space than cows in confinement.

In fact, there were a LOT of benefits!

Overall gas emissions from the cows dropped by 8%

Ammonia pollution was down by 30%

Not needing to run farm equipment for fodder planting and harvest reduced carbon dioxide emissions by 10%

Rotated crop fields didn't sequester carbon; but the newly converted perennial grasslands store as much as 3,400 pounds per acre.

The outside cows did produce less milk volume, but the milk they did produce was higher quality. So, looking at all the benefits here, it's clear that pasture is actually something that should be embraced for ecological reasons, not rejected.

In FACT, it should be EMPHASIZED. Because, this is the mind-blowing part,

Pasture can ALSO be an ecosystem.

In fact, I'm a Warrior Cats guy who once did a deep dive on moorlands just so I could write WindClan better. There are entire biomes that only exist because of grazing, and British lowland heath is one of them!

Keeping cattle in a sustainable, ecologically sound way is going to look different depending on where in the world you're doing it. So many earnest, good-willed people have bought into the lie that humans are a problem, and that everything "associated" with us becomes a barren wasteland as if we are tainted. YOU are not the problem! The problem is, and always has been, exploitation. Unsustainable relationships with the land we're part of.

Indigenous people in Europe, Asia, and Africa have been keeping cattle for thousands of years. In North America, cattle can be used to maintain ecosystems that have been badly affected by the colonial eradication of the American Bison. In South America, Brazil specifically has been making incredible advances with highly efficient integrated crop-livestock-forestry farming.

Generally, pastures here in the US are not as intensely managed as an equivalent crop field. Some people fertilize them, or water them mid-summer, but absolutely not to the same extent as industrial corn farms. Cattle are typically rotated between pastures, allowing each to re-grow before they come back to graze again.

Obviously, yes, overgrazing can be an issue. Not every open space should be converted into a pasture, and the destruction of other environments to turn into cow land is a problem. But that is an issue of bad land stewardship, not the mere practice of keeping livestock.

Bottom line, though? Cattle who can graze and survive outside are better for the environment than cattle that can't.

...but hey, you know what Holsteins happen to be really bad at?

EVERYTHING. GRAZING.

They are notoriously terrible grazers. They can't do megan THEEEEE thing that cows are known for. Fragile frames, a lack of fat to keep them warm outside, increased demand for food, distaste for any rough forage, horrible mothering instincts, the list goes on. Holsteins are a NIGHTMARE to try and keep outside all year round compared to other breeds.

(especially heritage breeds, like the Milking Devon, Florida Cracker, or Texas Longhorn. Between these three, you'd be totally covered in 80% of American climates.)

I've already explained why it's not actually very good or important that we minmax milk volume, but even if that was actually something we should value, there are so many downsides that they would absolutely not be the dominant cow breed in a truly "efficient" system.

"Less cows means less cow food and cow land" is sound logic, but Holsteins are not the right cow for that job.

Question 4: "How could this be done in a way that doesn't increase cost of living?"

I'm not sure how to answer this question, simply because I'm not Bonestar, Leader of AmericaClan. Wish I was. I would rule tyrannically.

It's worth noting that Brazil is the second largest producer of beef in the entire world, AND the number one largest exporter of it, AND only puts 30% of its land to total agricultural use. The USA dedicates over 50%. And also Brazil is net reducing its amount of agricultural land while increasing output.

It seems clear to me that the USA actually has a massive food waste and resource distribution problem, to the point where the price we pay for stuff is actually wildly disconnected from the actual value of the goods and labor.

I think the way that us Americans tend to frame our conversations on these topics as "growth" vs "cuts" instead of asking how to minimize waste by making existing systems more efficient prevents us from solving problems. We're also just... really culturally resistant to the idea of anything being more "expensive," even if it ends up costing us a lot more money in waste or mismanagement later.

Penny wise and dollar foolish ass country.

Question 5: "What can we personally do about this?"

I mean, I wasn't making a call to action in Cow Lore, I was just explaining to one of my regulars why I don't like Holsteins LMAO. Since you're asking though...

I don't think we can change the wider trend in the dairy industry without actual government intervention and regulation, though, and that's very unlikely in the current political environment. they just sent random dudes to Ausalvador-Birkenau and when the Supreme Court said "bring this specific person back" they said "nuh uh." fellas I don't think we're getting better dairy regulations in the foreseeable future.

So I think the most productive thing to do is focusing on supporting small farms and heritage breeds. Get involved in your community garden or heritage society if you have one.

Not only is that generally a very rewarding thing, but it will be helpful to you in case The Situation Gets Worse. Knowing your neighbors and having real human connection is your best defense against economic recession.

Supporting the locals is always a great thing to do, which can be as simple as going to farmer's markets. You don't need to buy fancy food every day to make an impact on your community-- it can be a treat sometimes!

You could also subscribe to the Livestock Conservancy's free newsletter, where they talk about the work they're doing and upcoming events. If you're a knitter, crocheter, or any other kind of fiber artist, you could even join in on a challenge they're running where you make items out of rare wool for prizes!

Should you end up liking the work they do, you can become a member for 4$ a month, or go to one of their educational events.

Even just talking about the problem can do a lot! Did you know the Highland Cow was actually critically endangered in the USA within the past 10 years? It was the work of the Livestock Conservancy, plus a surge in their popularity, that helped to bring their numbers up. Word of mouth is a powerful thing.

All that said, remember, you can't solve every problem. It's a big world and there's a lot of them. Being made aware of an issue doesn't mean you have to drop what you were previously doing-- just care a lot about something that you want to improve, and let that guide you.

#Funfact: My great-something-grammy boinked the milkman #and that's how my great-something-grandparent happened lmaoo #Straightup parody level family drama #queen behavior tho ngl #Perhaps I simply respect my Milkmancestor's game too much #got milk in my blood #bone babble #cows #i like. tried not to say it TOO much besides the powerpuff girls meme. but.#capitalism is the core problem under everything here #it doesn't actually encourage efficiency on a large scale; it *encourages* overproduction and *incentivizes* artificial scarcity #under a capitalist system it is a good thing to crush your small farm competition by literally flooding the market with cheap milk #because it's more profitable to dump sour milk onto the nearest poor community than lose sales to Meemaw Moomoo And Her Heritage Herd #and yeah the cows are sick and dying from genetic issues and infections. but it's cheaper to feed them antibiotics #because it's not like the dairy industry is the one who pays for the medical care of antibiotic-resistant superbugs that jump to humans!#the questions were genuine tho so I was trying to answer them without a Degrowth Rant lmaooooooooooo #will say as an aside though that when Cost of Living comes up as a concern there's a red part of me that is like #''comrade. ANY cost to live is too high.''

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wachinyeya · 3 months ago

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I'm one of the anons from the other day I just want to say thank you. I'm still terrified but you words did help. Currently in my country we have been experiencing effects over the last few years that were expected in 2050. In just the last few months (when it is winter) we've had a "once in a lifetime" storm and we are now on the second lot of wildfire warnings already this year. I'm only in high school and I just don't see a livable future and that is terrifying. There are too many problems to fix in the world and our government would rather fund more oil and gas drilling than save my future

It is okay to be afraid. But, remember that we cannot predict the future, even if we try. We can only work in the present for a better one. I was going to ask which country you're in but tbh I feel like it could apply to countries all over the globe. We are at the tipping point, the place scientists have been talking about. What we're experiencing is the results of their predictions. Now we are being forced to act. There is no more hiding, no more pretending (even if some of them want to).

There are many many problems but there are just as many solutions. And many people dedicated to applying those solutions. I believe we all have a role to play in this. Even if it's something 'small' like advocating for a local species or picking up litter--all things are connected.

You are not alone. And you are not responsible for all these problems. These problems have been building up for hundreds of years and it will likely take us that same time frame to 'fix' it--but we're working on, we're deep in the trying to fix it stage. It is not your responsibility to fix these problems but you do have a responsibility to keep going even if you struggle to imagine a future--I promise there WILL BE ONE. There was once a time when the the divine right of kings was just how it was and people living in it likely struggled to imagine a day when things would be different. But, they are.

You may have a lot of shitty people in your government but there are also good ones. Pay attention to your local government, your local officials because they are the ones who you have the most influence over.

I want to give you this video to watch that someone recommended if you haven't already:

youtube

There is also a really awesome masterlist put together by @reasonsforhope about why we're going to beat climate change.

I try to remember that there have been MANY MANY times on this planet where life struggled, where humans have struggled, but we've survived. There was a point in time where my people, indigenous people, lived through the apocalypse--millions of us died, torn from their families, we were put into concentration camps, the land was stolen and torn into pieces, destroyed for farming and building and mining. If you learn usa environmental history, the dust bowl and other disasters came from this. But, we're still here. And the land is still here. it is damaged and so are we. But, we are still here. Nature heals and adapts in incredible ways. We just have to help.

I'm not saying it will be easy. As I said, it will likely get worse before it gets better but it is going to get better. In the mean time, we are going to have to adapt, we have to be resilient.

Use your voice, use your hands, and do what you can where you are right now. Action is a good way to fight despair. Write letters to your government, call them, speak with your family and friends, go to protests, clean up trash around your home, learn the birds and insects and plants in your local area....aid in the fire recovery if you can and learn how they are trying to prevent it from happening in the future.

We're all in this together, friend. It won't be an easy struggle but it is so, so worth it. You must keep going. There is no other choice for us. And we need you. It's okay to be afraid but don't let it control you.

Again if you haven't already it might be a good idea to speak with someone (an adult in your life) you trust, but your doctor or a therapist might help as well (I've seen both and they have helped me a lot).

#Anonymous #long post #climate anxiety #climate grief

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that-one-malereader-enthusiast · 8 months ago

Text

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞 • 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞

╰┈➤ 𝐈 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐀𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐞

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐱 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐲

cw : MDNI - S2 Armand, journalist male reader, top male reader, switch Armand, sub Daniel, dirty thoughts, mentions of sexual interactions, nsfw, Louis is definitely third wheeling, sexual tension, fake rashid reveal, mind fucking, teasing, this is my old man yaoi, somnophila, Armand gets the old man pass, they eye fucked eachother so much, i needed a taste of these two sorry, when no one can do the work, you gotta do it yourself, power play, stalking, Armand is a creepy little cat, Daniels the confused German shepherd, my drabbles become so thought out why, consume at your own risk, not proof read.

You knew it.

You fucking knew it the whole damn time.

At first it was just a guess, just a joking remark made as you worked with Molloy with Louis interview. You didn't believe him when he spoke of vampires, but seeing truly is believing, and Rashid was the oddest guy you'd met. That sweet smile, those longing looks towards Louis, the way he almost seemed to be acting—

Oh but you found that out really fucking fast.

Spoiler alert, you can see the plot twist from a mile away.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

"Jesus Christ, it was about damn time! How obvious do you have to be before someone finally outed you as a vampire?"

Daniel turned to you in a somewhat shocked fashion, though he was mostly squinting towards you for some sort of half assed explanation you were going to give him, but Louis put his expression into words. "You...You knew?"

"Yeah, but to be honest, he wasn't exactly doing the best job at hiding it. I mean, even if he was trying to, it was a little too on the nose at the beginning. Also, not saying Rashid is a bad name, but you definitely don't look like a Rashid." You then happened to gesture to Armand who was now standing side by side with Louis. You knew you'd promised Molloy that you would tone it down, that you would stay tamer than normal for the sake of getting out of Dubai in one piece after everything was said and done, but now there were two vampires rather than the one. "Not to mention how obvious you are."

"Pray tell, how obvious was I?" Armand asked. So far he'd spectated and predicted you were just as childish as Daniel when he was younger. With eccentric thoughts and an active imagination. That you were simply in over your head.

Oh how wrong he was.

"Well, for starters...it never seemed like you were similar to the other servants? I don't think I dare even saw you wear a mask before, whether that be to simply hide faces or to prevent anything from spreading, I found that odd." You chimed. "Not only that but we've seen Louis drink from you, and yet someone as...lanky, someone who looked like a stick ready to break — no offense — but you walked away like it was nothing, while a Russian biscuit the size of a bulk barely stood for two seconds before falling out.."

Only then did you gesture to the other room compared to the one you were currently in. "Not to mention, when we caught you praying the other day, you prayed in the darkest side of the room. Even if you did walk past the light, it was briefly or almost unseeable. And God, from the way every time I turned to you and watched you practically eye-fucking Molloy, I wouldn't have been shocked to know that you'd met him before."

Armand's expression was unreadable, almost repressing his feelings. Especially after the last observation you'd made. He stood next to Louis who squinted in a questionable fashion while looking at you, and Daniel? He didn't expect you to suddenly come out like that, and so boldly, though that was simply your personality.

"Now, if you three don't mind, I think I'll go to bed early. After this whole fucking soap opera of a reveal, I have to probably prepare myself to take in whenever you came into Louis life and what the hell happened then." You dismissed yourself, not back towards Daniel as you made your way out. That stare Armand had given you that entire time was unnerving, but there was something behind it.

You then called out as you proceeded to make your way to your room. "And I hope that there's an actual Rashid! Or I will be very disappointed!"

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

God when was the last time you and Daniel had a good fuck.

Before the trip to Dubai, the two of you had different lives, and as much as you loved smothering the older man, you had a job as well. It was unfortunate that you two couldn't have your fun till after the trip was over, but at least Daniel noticed how irritable you'd started to get. After all, you'd been stressed before the trip and didn't expect things to take this long.

You groaned out as your hips slowly rocked into the others, his warm body against your own and lips kissing feverishly against his skin. You knew that he was trying his best to sleep, but you couldn't help yourself.

Not as if he minded, he's the one who agreed the two of you could atleast sleep like this.

"Fuck Danny, baby..." You rutted your hips up accidentally, causing him to groan out and nudge you as red took over his face, cheeks, even spreading to his ears.

"Calm down, I have to sleep for later so we can continue the interview.." He could feel your arms practically caging him, holding against the plushness against part of his stomach. Daniel could barely think with how tired he was, and you? You were full of energy at the moment, sleepy, but still energized.

"But you're so tight Daniel...so fucking...oh—" You slowly grinded yourself against him once again before finally giving in as he wrapped a hand back to run though your hair. "Needed this, bad. Felt like I was having withdrawals."

"From sex?"

"From you," you admitted. "And this tight ass..."

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

The next afternoon, you and Daniel went to the small cafe to fill up before the interview, though he'd been chewing you out about your past behavior. How he knew you were always a stickler for believing in superstition, but to understand that these vampires were nothing to fuck around with.

You could have refuted that with the amount of evidence you had that those fanged people were hornier than a dog humping a pillow.

You joked about it, as if it was your second nature, but Molloy seemed more stressed out than normal.

"You're gonna get yourself killed in there, you know what they are, why are you pushing things so far?" He sounded annoyed at that point, watching as you rolled your eyes and tried to dismiss his emotions towards the situation.

"Jesus Molloy, you act like the world is gonna end."

"Maybe not, but you have no idea who these guys are. You don't understand how dangerous they can be. How dangerous they are." He urged on.

You laughed and continued eating the raw fish that was on your plate. "Sure," you drew out.

It was then that he stared at you. Molloy stared at you with that look, the look you knew all too well. He continued staring you down before you sighed and gave in. "Fine! Damn it, I'll be good! I'll tone it down! I'll...I'll play this little game they're trying to get at. But I'm only doing it because you asked."

"Look, I just want us to get out of this in one piece." He urged on, now poking at his food, appetite diminished from the idea alone. "I dragged you into this mess, if you want to leave, you can."

"Damn it Daniel, you know you didn't drag me into this, I wanted to come. Turns out the vampire bullshit was real after all, but you're dumb as a box of rocks if you think I'm just gonna leave you here. I'm going nowhere." You let out a chuff of a chuckle before nudging Molloy, giving him a reassuring smirk. "And I know that Daniel Molloy sure as shit won't let anyone outsmart him like this."

"Alright cocky brat, I hear you. Just be careful. Armand looked like he's two seconds away from ripping your head off last time."

"Oh, Armand would have already if he had the balls to do so. If anything, I think the real threat in the room is you know who..." Finishing the rest of your dish after popping the last piece in your mouth, you now gave Daniel the knowing look.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

"Fuck, Armand—no wonder Louis loves to fuck you in his free time." You panted, watching as the vampire squirmed below you. You held his waist with a bruising strength that would normally feel uncomfortable for any human. But you knew that the vampire was durable. Heating his moan and mewl as your hips slapped against his ass, back arching up into you like a needy cat in heat. You didn't let up either, slamming into his body with brute force behind every thrust.

It was only then that you heard the mix of Armand and Daniels voice, gray haired individual cursing out as he gripped tightly onto the pillow behind his head. His glasses were gone and his face was flushed red as your thrust urged Armand to thrust into him. The vampire turned his head, as if trying to steal a kiss from you, pouting even. But you ignored him, leaning over to press your lips again Daniel's as his eyes fluttered closed, lashes dotted with tears and a muffled cry leaving him as Armand rammed his hips, almost in a jealous fashion.

Your fingers then found themselves threaded in the vampire's hair, only to yank his head back while a cry escaped his drool soaked lips. "You listen to me and you listen to me good. You think..you're all hot shit for a vampire, but I really know what you really are — Armand," you hissed out against the shell of his ear, dipping your head down before biting directly against the side of his neck. Your canines dug down into his tender flesh — not enough force to pierce — but enough to bite down onto the muscle below, knowing the skin would blemish and bloom due to your brutish actions.

The feeling alone made him cry out, hips stuttering between both you and Daniel. It was only then that you heard Molloy let out a gutteral noise in retaliation.

"You're my bitch in heat, understand?"

As Louis continued his interview, retelling whatever he could recall while letting Daniel read Claudia's entries, you kept your mouth shut and kept your comments to a minimum — as promised. But your thoughts, they ran rampant as you keep eye contact with Armand, watching as his eyes pierced into your own soul while peering into your mind. You could see a shift in his face features, his shoulders tending up as your expression stayed unchanging like a statue.

"Sorry to cut you off, I'm gonna step to the bathroom if that's alright. Lunch doesn't feel like it's sitting well," you addressed those in the room as you moved your notebook out of your lap and onto the table. "You good being alone in here for a sec Danny boy?"

"I'll be fine — and don't call me that, Jesus..." He muttered, shaking his head and overall dismissing you as he saw the shit eating grin on your face.

"Just askin' is all. Last time I left, I came back to you slapping Louis. Still never got an explanation for that one..."

"I assure you, nothing will happen to Daniel while you're away," Louis assured, giving you a genuine look to try and persuade you.

"Whatever you say," you stated, not giving the other stoic vampire the time of day after. Not a glance back or a thought for him to breach. Instead you left and got into the bathroom before starting the sink and splashing water on your face.

Even as you tried your best to hide it or ignore it, you could feel you growing erection making into a tent against your jeans, especially at your own thoughts. You almost dazed out back there and didn't even notice, but you knew that you'd finally hit the mark with Armand. With the way he was staring you down, you wouldn't have been surprised if he confronted you about such things.

It wasn't until you looked up in the mirror that you saw those predatory eyes stalking you again. By the time you whipped around, you were almost slammed into the sink, grinning as Armand grabbed against your throat. There was no real strength behind it, just a placement.

"Pervert, snooping through my thoughts even though I'm pretty sure Louis said that doing such a thing was off limits."

"He did not say such a thing," he quickly addressed, sneering at the grin that stayed in your face. "Who are you to have such thoughts about myself."

"You didn't say much about it. But to mention you seemed like you were enjoying it yourself pretty boy..." Your hand felt against his own groin, your grin only widening at the erection he seemed to pull as well. Watching as he stiffened up again made your arousal flare and his eyes seemed to soften. It almost looked as if he was trying to stop a noise from coming out with how fast his lips pressed into a thin line.

"I know one thing, Armand. You wouldn't be here if you didn't want something from me." Peeling his hand from your throat, you grabbed his face and pulled his closer. He did nothing to retaliate, almost melting at the semi rough gesture. "If you wanna be of any help while we still have time...I think you could put that mouth to good use."

To have Armand on his hands and knees? It was as if Christmas came early. But God, he looked absolutely divine as he slid down between your legs. You could only hope that Louis wouldn't mind sharing his immortal partner, Armand.

The vampire Armand?

More like Armand, your personal cockslut.

You could only wonder how fast he could be before one of the others came to look for the both of you.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

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