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athingofvikings · 7 months

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In my own experience as a Jewish Leftist, and corroborated by the similar experiences of other Jewish Leftists, there are, roughly speaking, five to six broad categories of Leftists in their attitudes towards Jews. This is a tangential categorization in terms of precise political affiliation; in other words, one's position in these categories is not dependent on what precise type of Leftist/Progressive an individual is.

Type 1: Open And Unapologetic Jew Haters

These Leftists hate Jews and don't try to hide it at all. According to them, Jews are the Problem, and they know what type of Solution they want enacted.

The archetypal example that I'll currently use is Cynthia McKinney, former US Congresswoman and US Green Party presidential candidate, who, well...

But this is also the class of Leftists who say that there is no room for Judaism in their ideal, imagined perfect world, that they picture everyone assimilating and giving up their ethnic and cultural identities to just be "human", and often single out Judaism as a particular problem in that regard.

Type 2: Closeted Knowing Jew Haters

These Leftists hate Jews, know that they hate Jews, but know that it's bad optics to openly praise Hitler or cozy up to the KKK to satisfy their hatred of Jews, so they try to find the barest veneer of plausible deniability to hide behind. "Anti-zionism" is a particular favorite on the Left, but the hatred has a way of slipping past the mask when they get questioned.

A classic example here is the Boston Mapping Project, who literally made up a list of every Jewish institution in Boston, Mass, on suspicion of them being "Zionist"--including elder homes, Jewish high schools, and Kindergartens, and including scary "links" on the map to various government agencies, no matter how tenuous or outright imaginary, thereby invoking old conspiracy tropes about "Secret Jewish Control of the Government". (And BDS, as the parent organization, also gave the lie that they're just antizionist, not antisemitic, when they disavowed the Mapping Project for bad optics, not the rank antisemitism and conspiratorial thinking they were promoting). Another example would be the organizers of the Chicago Dyke March, who explicitly expelled Jews from the March and crowed about "zio tears" (which is a slur originally used by the KKK, no less).

However on first encounter, Type 2 are indistinguishable from and camouflaged by...

Type 3: Undereducated And Unknowing Traffickers In Antisemitism

These Leftists don't hate Jews per se... they're just unaware of the deep antisemitic history of repeating claims that "Jews have too much power", or stating that the Holocaust was "White on White violence", or that "Jews are just White People from Europe", or any of a host of other antisemitic beliefs that are endemic on the Left. They're initially indistinguishable from Type 2, as they say the same things, and can only be told apart by their reactions; a Type 3 will go, "Oh, I didn't know and I'll try to learn!", while a Type 2 will typically double down, or let the mask slip in some other way.

The problem is that, from the perspective of Jews, Type 2 and Type 3 are indistinguishable from each other at first glance, and rather than try to engage and risk the emotional harm, a lot of Jews tend to write off all of them as Type 2, and there's a lot of debate on the ratios between the two.

Also worthy of mention, as a midpoint between Type 2 and Type 3 are:

Type 2.5: Openly Antisemitic "I'm Not An Antisemite, I Just Refuse To Learn, Listen, Or Let Jews Define Antisemitism"

As a midpoint between types, these Leftists openly traffic in antisemitic motifs, conspiracies, and attitudes, all the while insisting that they're not antisemitic. They're a midpoint between types 2 and 3 because they've had plenty of time and opportunity to learn about the bigoted attitudes they're espousing, but refuse to do so... but at the same time, they genuinely seem to think that they're not antisemitic. They just think that there's a vast Jewish conspiracy out to get them personally, or any of a number of other antisemitic beliefs, and refuse to accept or learn that what they're saying is antisemitic. They can believe that they themselves are not all they want, saying that Jews have too much money and power and run the world's politics is still trafficking in antisemitic conspiracy theories.

The archetypal example of this type, assuming we can take his word for it, is Roger Waters. Waters is openly and explicitly antisemitic, saying that there is a widespread conspiracy of Jews running the world's politics... but he has been insisting for over 40 years that he's just "antizionist, not antisemitic."

youtube

But these are just the outspoken ones. None of them would get anywhere without the tacit support of...

Type 4: The Silent Majority

These Leftists are, being blunt, hypocritical cowards. They don't want to get involved in issues on antisemitism. When a Leftist Jew is being harassed by one of Types 1 to 3, they don't speak up, they don't get involved, they just say nothing.

Maybe they agree with one of the above types. Maybe they just don't want to get involved. Maybe they're afraid of seeming sympathetic to Israel. Maybe they're afraid of getting the social backlash that the Jew is experiencing. But ultimately, their motivations don't matter, their actions do—and their actions give tacit social support to the antisemite in the Leftist group, not to the Jew being harassed and chased out.

And the reason they're hypocritical cowards?

Well, if your ideology claims that you want a better life for everyone and social progress and being against racism and bigotry... but yet they don't speak up when it's happening right in front of them...

Well.

That says a lot, doesn't it? Both on what their ideals actually mean to them... and how highly they value Jews. And we know that it is possible, because of...

Type 5: The Pro-Jewish Leftist

These Leftists are, in my experience, a minority outside of Leftist Jews, but they do exist among non-Jewish Leftists. They stand up to Types 1, 2, and 3 when they express antisemitic views, and try to shame and cajole Type 4 into standing up as well.

And, just to point out how normalized antisemitism is on the Left...

Some people in this category might object to being labeled as "Pro-Jewish", as if they're biased for Jews. But I have to ask... do you think that they would also object to being labeled "Pro-LGBTQ"?

#antisemitism #leftist antisemitism

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cheemscakecat · 2 months

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Fun/Interesting details in Expiration Date

Heavy knows that Pauling is calling them, and lets Scout be the one to answer. Also, road safety because he’s not distracted driving.

Medic is so hyped about tumor bread.

Hoovy smelling the sandwich and deciding it’s safe to eat [or that it doesn’t matter at this point].

Pyro standing like that. He don’t know what’s going on, but he’ll still be polite. Also, Sniper just chillin in the back with a poker face the whole time.

Medic smiles at Soldier as they walk past. Engineer’s got that Conhager death-cheating focus at the moment.

Spy’s eyes widen angrily when he realizes it’s Scout at the door and then he smirks like; “Oh hi! Twelve hours was enough time for you to get bored of my absence, then?”, not expecting a sincere apology [maybe one orchestrated by the other teammates, but not Scout].

There was some vitriol behind that “***”, look at his nose. He does not want Scout to gloat, try to prank him again, or give a fake apology. And that’s valid, since the team dying is something Scout should have taken seriously, and the last wishes handled with respect. He crossed a line that Spy doesn’t take lightly.

Dad, I threwed up. But in all seriousness, that’s the “My family is dysfunctional, and I don’t know how to be emotionally honest with people” posture.

See my bucket scene analysis for more on these two.

He didn’t say “You’re terrible with girls” in a snide or smug tone, he said it with like actual parental concern. “Scout, no you have three days! Do you want to die rejected or die before you can enjoy being together? No. Don’t do this to yourself.”

Look at that cup, he did not need a refill. This fake smirk and disinterest is Spy’s way of checking how serious Scout is about this last wish and taking his advice. And when he goes “This never leaves this room” Spy perks up.

Medic was taking a sample of bread tumor puss [or injecting it with something].

They have a whole entire wrestling ring, how did I never notice that?

This is one of those multiple choice questions where you can choose more than one answer and have it be right. But the chicken in combination with the other options looses you points, and just taking the chicken is like the token wrong answer.

Spy sighs when he realizes Scout chose just the chicken. Like chile, I gave you multiple options and you still went with your go-to that doesn’t work!

This room has a gym floor, which implies Spy took a bunch of fancy stuff from one of his rooms just for this date training. Also shoutout to the other teammates for helping with this.

Okay, so most of these decorations came from Pyro, who Scout is terrified of. Archimedes came from Medic, who Scout also doesn’t want to make angry, and the grass cutouts are potentially part of the base camouflage. But that disco ball? That belongs to Scout, he just doesn't want anyone to know he’s real into that. [The team would not judge, but his brothers would, so.]

Man when he gets his heart broken, I hope he finds the right girl for him. He deserves better than Pauling always making excuses to turn him down instead of telling him like it is.

Foreshadowing Solly being romantical towards Zhanna. Look at this content man.

Spy holding his knife like this. There’s no reason for it to be a threat, so he’s just genuinely in the habit of doing this while listening. Or while nervous, which also makes sense.

#tf2 #dadspy #character analysis #expiration date #tf2 scout #tf2 spy

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strawberrysturniolo · 3 months

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DEALER CHRIS WITH BENEFITS EATING SEX CHOCOLATE FIC!!!!

lets trip // dealer!chris

summary: your dealer comes over to smoke, and when you get the munchies, you discover a stash of sex chocolates. oral (male receiving). breeding kink. high sex. dominant chris. friends with benefits.

I’ve been buying weed from him for months now. He was only ever supposed to be my plug, nothing more. I didn’t even think we were capable of being friends above the simple conversations we had over transactions.

It’s not up for debate that this guy is hot as shit. Everyone knows it. He’s known in town for being everyone’s favorite dealer. The guys think he’s cool, and the girls are obsessed with him. I think some girls started smoking just so they could be with him at some point. Some probably expected to take it to the next level and fuck him. That wasn’t my plan at all, but somehow, here I am.

I found about him through my friend. Her boyfriend bought from him, and they helped me connect to Chris when things got hard and I decided to start smoking.

We hit it off from the jump. I was highly attracted to him, but we just seemed to connect in certain ways that I wasn’t expecting.

He just… understood me. He started taking care in me that I don’t think he was planning on developing either. He started watching how much I was buying, questioning my safety, my mental health, everything.

When he first started getting flirty, I didn’t think anything of it. I assumed that’s how he was with every female customer. I thought that was his way of marketing to them and ensuring they would come back to see him. He wants to make money more than he wants to have sex with his customers, shockingly.

He’s a good guy. He’s a little misunderstood. He definitely has a soft spot underneath the metal plates that protect his body.

Me:

out of weed. can i buy some off you?

hot dealer:

Out on deals rn. Won’t get back until late. I can come when I finish if you want. How bad are you out?

Me:

just ran out

hot dealer:

Just? And your already asking for more? Bad girl. Drugs are bad. Unless this is your excuse for me to come see you.

Me:

maybe both. come find out for yourself

hot dealer:

Be there in an hour.

The next hour moved by painfully slow. This is either because I’m waiting to see Chris, or because I’m waiting for weed.

Chris and I have had sex a few times. It’s always great. I’m always left wondering if we should continue or if it’s time to call it quits and stick to our dealer to customer relationship.

I feel sick at the idea of losing him like that.

My apartment door opens two hours later, a voice following.

“Munchkin?” Chris calls out. “Where you at?”

I walk out of my bedroom, peeking my head out first. A smile pulls at my lips without even thinking about it. He does that to me. It’s aggravating.

“What happened to an hour? It’s been two,” I enlighten him on his lateness, wrapping my arms around him as I take in the subtle scent of weed on him.

I sink my head into his shoulder, feeling the warmth radiating off his body from his brown hoodie. He pairs it with a pair of camouflage cargo pants and white Air Force sneakers.

“Has it?” he asks me, playing dumb. He lets out a subtle whine before squeezing me closer. “Missed me that bad, huh?”

“Don’t let it get to your head,” I roll my eyes, letting go of him. There’s a loss in me when our bodies disconnect. “How was business today?”

He nods, pursing his lips a little as he thinks. “Not bad. Same as usual. Some stupid kids, other people who think they know more than me. It’s nothing new.”

I open my fridge, grabbing a soda for him, the same routine every time he comes over.

“Hey, I don’t wanna sound like a dick,” he says as he cracks his can open. “I’ve been so fucking busy today, I haven’t eaten. I don’t wanna raid your fridge or anything, but have you eaten? Do you wanna get anything?”

I shake my head. “I ate a bit ago while I was studying. I have to get more groceries anyway, so you can eat whatever you want, if you can find anything.”

“Have I ever told you you’re the best ever?” he grins.

My cheeks flush pink. “Ehhhh, maybe once or twice.”

He presses a kiss to my cheek and says, “Well you are.”

He then proceeds to investigate in my pantry, cabinets, and fridge, pulling out a snack for himself.

“How much did you bring?” I ask him, referring to the weed he owes me.

“Three grams,” he responds through chews.

“How much do I owe you this time?”

He shrugs. “Don’t worry about it.”

I drop my shoulders. “Dude.”

“Don’t fight me on it,” he warns. “You should be glad I’m giving you free weed. Be appreciative.”

“I am appreciative, but I want you to make money.”

He pouts his bottom lip, putting on an act. “That’s so cute you want me to make moneyyyyyy,” he draws out, then relaxes his face to its usual state. “That’s why I fuck with these dumbasses and over charge them. I overcharge the stupid, Munchkin gets free weed,” he explains.

I’m halfway through an eye roll when he says, “You ever tried this shit?” He lets out a little moan at the taste. “If you catch it in your mouth I’ll give you a kiss.”

Without thinking twice, I squat my legs a bit and open my mouth. Chris sends a piece of chocolate through the air, and I catch it on my tongue.

“Atta girl,” he praises. “Good catch.”

“Mmm,” I hum as the taste fills my mouth. “I think this is my roommates chocolate.”

Chris lets out a little wince. “Shit, my bad.”

“No, it’s fine. Like I said, I have to run to the store to get stuff anyway, so I’ll just get her some more. What’s the brand?”

Chris flips the box around to read the label. “Hmm. Good Relations. Kind of a strange chocolate brand. Why didn’t she just get Hershey’s or something?”

Our eyes snap to each others at the same time.

“What’d you say?!” I ask, running over to grab the box from him.

“Why does your roommate leave her sex chocolate in the pantry! Tell her to put the freaky shit in the bedroom!”

“Why are you eating shit without checking labels!”

“I didn’t know it was a sex candy factory in here!” he defends.

“Give me the box.” He tosses the package to me, and I scan the text on the back. “It says it starts working in 20-40 minutes…”

Chris pumps his fist through the air. “SCORE! I’m getting laid and I had some good chocolate.”

“I was just reading the box, you freak!”

Chris lowers his eyebrows at me. “Don’t act like you weren’t expecting me to come over and fuck you after you got your weed.”

I mumble a, “Shut up,” before putting the chocolates back in the pantry.

“So… are we gonna fight the temptation… or are we gonna fuck?”

“Give me my weed and then I’ll think about it.”

Chris frowns as he digs a hand into the pocket of his pants. “So demanding,” he says as he pulls out a bag with a few green trees inside.

“Thank you,” I smile, giving him a quick kiss on his lips before walking to my room.

He groans. “That’s all I get!”

“For now, yeah!” I call back to him over my shoulder. “Come smoke this with me and we’ll see if you get lucky.”

Chris follows me into my room, sitting down in a comfy chair in my room. His ass has imprinted into the material with how much time he spends there.

“Want me to roll for you?” he asks, peeking at me as I grab my essentials.

“Mhm,” I hum, fishing through my drawer. “You do it tighter.”

“Mmm,” he responds, sitting up a bit in the chair. He waits for me to walk back over then says, “Yeah, you know I like my shit tight,” and adds a slap to my ass, grabbing it harshly after.

I pass him a rolling tray along with some paper, watching his every move. I can do this easily, but there’s something so sexy about the way Chris does this. The focus on his face, his scrunched eyebrows, his lip poking out of his mouth, resting over his bottom lip.

His eyes are already bright red, the most beautiful blue shade complimenting them. His beard is almost clean shaven, a light beard growing in, but nothing major.

“You hear me?” he asks, his voice snapping me out of whatever trance I was put in.

“Huh?”

“I said I need a lighter,” he repeats. God knows how many times he’s said it and I wasn’t listening.

“Sorry,” I mumble, tossing him the lighter.

He rests the lighter on his thigh, then presses this thumb to my lips. “Open.”

I do as he says, sucking on his thumb for a moment. He pulls it back out and uses my saliva to seal the joint shut.

He holds the joint up the my lips, and I take it between them, letting him light the end for me.

“So obedient, aren’t you?” he asks me in a low voice.

I say nothing, only nodding as I inhale the smoke entering my mouth.

Maybe it’s the chocolate, or maybe it’s the fact that he knows exactly what to say to get me wound up.

Before I can let the smoke out, his hand grips my jaw, pulling me down to him and attaching our lips. As my mouth parts open, the smoke dances between our mouths, entering his. He sucks in a breath and smiles.

“Tastes even better from your mouth,” he whispers, pressing his lips to my chin, then under my jaw.

I hold the joint front of his face, letting him grab it with his mouth and take it between his fingers next.

“Thank you for my weed,” I whisper, watching him in a daze.

He slouches in the chair, spreading his legs in front of me. “Wanna show me how thankful you are?”

He raises his eyebrows as he tags another drag of the joint, and before I can think twice about it, I’m on my knees, unbuttoning his pants.

“Eager, aren’t you?” he teases. I ignore him and pull his pants down around his knees, bringing his underwear with it.

I don’t know what magic is in those chocolates, but in all the times I’ve seen this man’s dick, it’s clear that it’s different now. He looks bigger, like he’s throbbing so much that his dick had no option but to expand slightly. He’s thick, dark veins decorating the length, while his beet red tip leaks of precum. I swallow at the sight, taking him in.

“Nothing you haven’t seen before,” he reminds me, but still, this feels different.

“You look so good,” I groan, touching his tip and spreading the precum.

He flinched just at that touch, like it’s already sending him close to the edge. “You wanna make me feel good?” he breathes out.

I nod, spitting a line of saliva down to his dick, spreading it over his length as I lick the other side.

“Oh god,” he sighs. He takes the joint back into his mouth, chasing two highs.

He holds the joint between two fingers, his head tossed back over the top of the chair.

I suck tightly over his tip, his hips bucking up, making me take more of him. His hands hold the back of my head in a messy make-shift ponytail, his jaw slack as I suck more of him. My head starts to bob at a reasonable rhythm, his moans becoming uncontrollable.

“Fuck, that’s it baby,” he smiles lazily. “Such a good girl- Fuck.”

His hips start to meet me halfway, thrusting lightly until his tip hits the back of my throat. I let him do that a few times before a soft gag leaves my mouth, and I take myself off of him, breathing heavily. A line of spit connects my lips and his dick.

“Too much?” he asks, wiping the tears starting to drip down my cheekbones from the pressure in my throat.

“I’m okay,” I nod. “Promise.”

“You’re doing so well. Just keep doing what you’re doing. That chocolate… I can’t hold off much longer.”

I drop my head lower, sucking his balls. He shouts out a string of profanities as his head flies backwards, the hand in my hair tightening. His teeth are clenched together, and he squeezes the joint so tight that it’s nearly flattened.

I spit on his tip again, making sure he’s fully coated before I start sucking his tip again, dropping my mouth halfway down his length and bobbing it back up and down. I stroke the rest of him with one hand while I massage his balls with my other. The sound is insane, the wetness of my mouth on his dick, and the gagging as I take him as deep as I can in my throat. Not to mention his moans that are almost screams of pleasure at this point.

“Fuck!” he yells, gripping the side of the chair as he lets his release fill my mouth. “Shit, shit, shit, ohhhhhh god, baby. Yeah that’s it, take my fucking cock.”

My eyes are full, watering as he forcefully shoved his dick into my throat. I pull off of him slowly with a popping sound before I sit up, smiling at him.

“You’re insane,” he pants, smiling at me as I stand up. He slaps my ass harshly, pulling me closer to him after. He slaps both cheeks again and pulls me down to sit on his lap. He grabs my jaw and kisses me, a sloppy and wet kiss that just shows each other how badly we need more. As soon as I sit myself on his dick, I start grinding on him without a care of my rhythm. I just need a relief.

He reads my mind, wrapping his hands under my ass and scoops me into his arms. He leads us to my bed, tossing me down before he steps out of his underwear and pants, kicking them across the floor. He yanks his sweatshirt off, leaving on a tight black shirt. His hands trace my legs as he strips me of my own clothing, leaving my dripping pussy in his sight as he lowers himself between my thighs.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he says. He places his palm against my folds, feeling how wet I am. “Aw, poor girl. Need my dick in between there, don’t you?”

I nod, whimpering as the slightest touch to my clit has my entire body on fire. I’ve never felt so horny in my life, and I could kill him for not putting his fingers in me soon enough.

“Let me hear your pretty voice, then I’ll give you whatever you want,” he rationalizes, and considering how desperate I am right now, I’ll do anything he wants.

“Please, Chris,” I whine. “Please, please, anything. Just touch me.”

“Mmmm,” he smiles, dragging his plump lips over my clit until I shudder. “Let me hear that pretty voice again.”

Just as the words leave his mouth, he suctions his lips over my clit, pulling upwards and releasing it before spitting back on it. His fingers rub quickly over the bud, his eyes locked on mine.

I grip his arm, my fingers digging into his skin. “Tell me how good I’m making you feel. Tell me how badly you need to be fucked by me.”

“So bad-“

He makes me wince as his hand slaps over my clit.

“Full sentences or you get nothing,” he says through gritted teeth.

“You’re making me feel so good, Chris,” I correct myself. “I want you so- Need you to fuck me.”

“That’s a good girl,” he mumbles, pushing two fingers inside as he pushes my shirt up my chest with the other hand, instructing me to take it off. I peel the fabric over my head, discarding it to the floor. “So wet around my fingers.”

He removes them just after, a cry of desperation leaving my mouth. He sucks he’s fingers clean, then strokes his cock, his chin pressed to his chest and he stares down at himself. He leans forward, slapping his dick against my clit. My legs shake with every hit.

The tip of his dick finds my cunt, and he slips in so easily, like he was made for me. Like he was supposed to fill me up. He wraps one of my legs around his waist as he situates himself, then wraps my other leg around him, burying himself as deep as he could go.

He spit onto his thumb, pressing it onto my clit as he created friction just where I needed him, continuing to thrust himself inside of me.

“That’s it, take it baby. Take it.”

My heels dig into his back, pulling him closer, if it’s possible. His head buries into my neck, removing his fingers from my clit and replacing his hand with the movement of his pelvis, grinding it into me.

As my hands reach up to his back, trying to hold onto him, he grabs my wrists, pinning them above my head.

His breath hits my face as he locks his eyes on mine. He watches every move I make. Every moan that leaves my mouth, he’s right there to inhale it.

“Chris,” I groan, feeling myself tighten around him.

A low moan pulls from deep in his throat. “Just like that baby, I’m gonna cum in you.”

I nod, squeezing his cock with my pussy, watching as his face unfolds with pleasure.

“I’m gonna put a baby in you,” he says. “You’d like that, huh?”

I nod furiously.

“I’m gonna cum in you,” he says. “Watch it all drip out of this perfect pussy. Then I’m gonna pump my fingers in you and force it to stay inside of you.”

“Please,” I whine.

He locks one hand around both my wrists, using his free hand to grip my jaw. “Watch my face when I cum in you.”

Seconds later, his hips thrust at a rapid rate before stilling inside of me as he pumps his cum inside. His slacked jaw causes our lips to brush against each other.

As he pulls out, the last brush of our hips forces my orgasm out of me, my cum dripping out of my pussy along with his.

“Aht aht aht,” he tsks. He takes three fingers and pushes them into me. “Told you to keep this shit inside of you.”

I nod weakly. “I’m sorry.”

He presses a soft kiss to my lips. “Mhm.” He lays on his stomach next to me, breathing out a laugh. “We should snoop through her snacks more often.”

Yeah, we fucking should.

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puzzled-pegasus · 2 months

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Here's some silly little metaphors that I think the dragon tribes would use

SkyWings

“Don’t count your clutch before they hatch.” (Don't plan too much too soon)

“Gold is better than silver, but silver is better than nothing.” (If you can't do it perfectly, still try your best. Most dragons forget the second part.)

“‘Sorry’ can't suck the fire back in.” (The damage is done and now you're dead to me.)

“You been eating too much burnt meat or something?” (Are you nuts?)

“Stop all this smoke and use your fire.” (Stop rambling and get to the point already; or stop complaining and do something)

“Doesn't know his tail from his wings.” (Stupid or clumsy)

“You fly like a depressed pigeon.” (Slow flier)

“There's no fire in a rainstorm.” (Stop feeling sorry for yourself and get to work.)

“Nighttime is for the NightWings.” (What are you doing up? Go to sleep.)

SandWings

“She’s all rattle, and no strike.” (Like all bark no bite)

“A diamond in a pile of quartz.” (Like a needle in a haystack)

“You’re watering the cactus and ignoring the sapling.” (You’re focusing on the wrong thing; barking up the wrong tree)

“Everyone thinks the camel looks silly until the dry season comes.” (Don't listen to them, they don't know how unique and strong you are)

MudWings

“Crocodile tears.” (Fake crying in order to gain sympathy)

“You can only catch a trout if your mouth is open.” (Be open to new experiences)

“If the tree gives away too much, it ends up as a stump.” (Don't let people take advantage of your generosity)

SeaWings

“Happy as a clam in high water.” (Very happy)

“The flying fish feels like a fool when it sees an osprey.” (Don't compare yourself to others, run your own race.)

“Plenty of fish in the sea.” (Plenty more opportunities to come.)

“You’ve got ink in your eyes.” (You're blind to something important)

“Lobsters only die when they don't leave their shell.” (Keep yourself busy with new experiences and you'll life a long life)

NightWings

“Sleep is for the dead.” (Why waste your time sleeping when you could be productive)

“SeaWings know their fish and SandWings know their cactuses, but we NightWings know everything else.”(NightWing supremacy propaganda)

“Being nice to a deer never got one in my mouth.” (Other dragons don't matter, only your goals.)

“A prophecy always comes true.” (I told you so but more cryptic)

"You're counting the stars." (You're doing something tedious towards an unachievable goal)

RainWings

“Gray’s her favorite color.” (She's a huge bummer)

“A lemon is yellow on the outside, doesn't mean they're not sour.” (Referring to someone who is two faced or fake)

“I love honey, but I’d rather not get stung by the bees.” (I could do this, but it requires effort so I don't wanna)

“Nobody likes a rotten banana.” (Nobody likes a bummer/downer)

“Don't tie your tail in a knot” (don't get all upset)

“I have all my berries in a basket” (I have everything sorted out)

“You couldn't sneak up on a pineapple” (insult to one's camouflage skills, popular among children)

IceWings

“The seal who asks why the orca is chasing him is the first to get eaten.” (A favorite of parents telling their kids to shut up)

“Not the sharpest icicle on the roof” (kinda stupid or slow)

“Clear as polished ice” (i understand or see it very well)

“You're looking a little pink in the face” (you look sickly. IceWings can turn pink from eating too much krill; a symptom of malnutrition. This line can be applied to any illness.)

“Blue blood kills, red blood spills.” (Patriotic propaganda implying that IceWings win every fight

“The SkyWings toss their blue eyed hatchlings because they're worried they'll be as strong as an IceWing.” (More propaganda)

HiveWings

“Pretty is for the SilkWings.” (Vanity is stupid and impractical)

“If it buzzes like a bug and bites like a bug, it's a bug.” (Don't ignore the obvious)

“Clearsight works in mysterious ways.” (I don't know the answer to your question, now go away)

SilkWings

“It's not always good to know how the honey gets made.” (Don't stick your snout where it doesn't belong)

“She's got a couple of threads loose.” (Calling someone a little crazy, threads refers to weaving)

“The bee minds its flowers and the spider minds her silk, it's when they mix that bad things happen.” (Mind ya business)

LeafWings

“Flytraps only trap because the soil doesn't feed them.” (Dragons don't get angry out of nowhere)

“Looking like a leaf only hides you in the forest.” (Time and place)

“If a branch doesn't bend, it breaks.” (Be flexible)

“Even the corpse flower attracts the flies.” (Even someone who seems ugly to one dragon they can seem irresistible to another)

#wings of fire #wof headcanons #metaphor #idioms

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vexwerewolf · 7 months

Text

Showrooms of LANCER Manufacturers

IPS-N

IPS-N showrooms are what you'd get if you slammed a truck dealership, a hardware store, a camping gear shop and a sports bar together in the Bass Pro Shops Pyramid. We're talking row upon row of shelves stocked with the most precision-engineered engine parts you can print on one side of the floor, and on the other, durable, hard-wearing survival gear. Camping stoves you can run off of your mech's coldcore, sleeping bags that'll survive a HEX charge, automatic camo cloth, the works.

Right down the middle, you've got the mech floor. They've got the Tortuga. They've got the Blackbeard. They've got the Drake. They've got the Lancaster and the Kidd. They've got the Vlad (they put a chain-link fence covered in DO NOT TOUCH signs around that one after the infamous CFO's 10-year-old Incident). They've even got the Raleigh, kinda tucked away a little bit behind the water feature, but it's there!

Everything on the shop floor is ruggedized to the point that you could take a mech's fist to it without leaving a dent - and they sometimes do that to demonstrate the engineering quality. There's a giant screen hanging from the ceiling displaying constant advertising for the mechs and IPS-N in general, usually striding purposefully through idyllic Diasporan wilderness or doing hard, honest work like starship loading or construction. There's a mixtape of the most famous bro-country hits playing 24/7.

Smith-Shimano Corpro

In a word: bespoke. Everything in this place is custom. Each and every desk is individually built according to the height of the salesperson who sits behind it, and manages to be a unique art piece without disrupting the overarching aesthetic of the showroom. Whenever there's a change of staff on the sales floor, they rearrange every single desk so that they're still in ascending order.

All of the salespeople are inhumanly pretty, by the way. This atelier has its own fully-staffed makeup and wardrobe team. You're part of a work of art when you work for SSC. Everything and everyone gleams. Even the most chic visitors might feel underdressed in the midst of all this splendour.

The mechs aren't just there to be sold, they're there to be part of the experience. You might see a Monarch holding up the ceiling like the titan Atlas himself. A Mourning Cloak might be posed provocatively like a nude statue. That Swallowtail - is it in a slightly different position every time you see it, or is that just its camouflage decals? How does it always manage to be just inside your line of sight, even when you're looking somewhere else?

They have a catwalk, like you'd see at a fashion show, but it's sized for mechs. If they really think you might make a purchase, they'll queue up the entire performance for you, and you'll get to see a Viceroy strut.

The mix tape for this showroom is a seamless mixture of complex jazz, psychedelic ambient and classical piano music. It's sophisticated and mysterious.

Harrison Armory

Imagine if America could be a showroom. Harrison Armory mech outlets are part dealership, part museum. Every mech is in its own diorama, depicting some heroic event in the Armory's glorious history. A phalanx of Sherman Mk. Is holds the line against some Diasporan slaver-tyrant's army. A Saladin fends off Karrakin hordes during the Interest War. The Genghis Mk. II? Oh, that diorama isn't open right now, it had to be closed for *coughcoughcough* and *coughcoughcough* but let's move on shall we heh heh

Everyone who works here has been in the Colonial Legion at some point, and knows every specification of the mechs they sell off by heart without even looking at their slate. If possible, the Armory tries to employ people who have actual combat experience with the mechs they're selling; people who can speak to the efficacy of their technology first-hand. It's one of the many programs which the Armory has open for retired veterans; it's easy work for decent pay, good benefits and it looks great on your Social.

The music here is a constant loop of patriotic Armory anthems. If you've ever heard the music from Starship Troopers, or the Outbreak of War from Star Ocean, you'll know what I'm talking about.

HORUS

Being a decentralized omninet collective with no official branding or even consistent manufacturing standards, it should come as no surprise that HORUS has no showrooms.

ERR:CONNECTION_INTERRUPT

CartesianWhisper: P55555t CartesianWhisper: Ignore that 5hithead CartesianWhisper: They don't have any idea what they're talking about CartesianWhisper: You want a mech, kid? CartesianWhisper: And I'm not talking the tra5h the Purv5 try to 5ell you CartesianWhisper: Or that overpriced garbage 55C want5 you to mortgage your genetic5 for CartesianWhisper: Or the macho trucker bull5hit IP5-N i5 trying to hawk CartesianWhisper: I'm talking about the REAL DEAL CartesianWhisper: The PROPER 5TUFF CartesianWhisper: Log on to rgx0582.node-7.c4l.omni CartesianWhisper: I'll 5how you what true power mean5 >:]

#lancer #lancer rpg #lancerrpg #lancer-rpg #mecha #ttrpg #mech

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theemporium · 1 month

Note

can i request sirius fluff? where the reader is super shy but when with sirius she’s always clinging his arm and holding him? and maybe the marauders are surprised

thank you!! love your writing 💌

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

If you had asked any of the boys who they thought Sirius would end up with, they would have answered with someone who was just as loud and energetic and bold as the boy himself.

Sirius Black was an acquired taste, but beloved nonetheless. He was loud and proud and didn’t hide who he was. He was confident in his skin, even more confident in his words. He was the kind of guy people aspired to be, the kind of arrogance that didn’t make you feel like you were choking on someone’s ego. He was the kind of guy that you needed to match the energy of to fully appreciate him as a person.

So, when Sirius started becoming lovesick and besotted by a girl, the boys were preparing themselves to be met with a female version of their friend.

They weren’t expecting you.

Not in a bad way, not at all. They knew you well, each of them sharing a class with you at some point over the years. You were quiet and tended to keep to yourself. You didn’t really go out of your way to speak unless you had to. You were happy to stay in the shadows, to get lost in the crowd of everyone else and stay camouflaged and unseen. You were the type that went unnoticed unless you wanted to be seen by people.

And they certainly didn’t think Sirius was the kind of guy you’d go for either.

But you both made it work, somehow and some way. Maybe it was an opposites attract situation, or maybe there was a side to the both of you that they didn’t know. But you made it work, despite the doubts everyone—and truly, everyone in the school had been invested by that point—had.

“Prongs, you’re fucking wrong and you know it!”

“I’m not!”

“You are!”

“Pads—”

Sirius only let out a laugh as he chucked the croissant across the table and watched it hit James square on the forehead. The boy howled with laughter, only managing to duck on time when James threw a piece of toast in retaliation. He reached for an orange, prepared to throw it as his next attack, when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder.

In an instant, the bubbling and giddy energy that was bouncing off him moments ago melted into something softer, sweeter even. Like the skittish energy in him had been settled.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Sirius grinned as he leaned his head back to look at you, his lips pouted in expectation and he tried to hold back his grin when he watched your face flush in response.

“Hi,” you murmured back as you leaned down to press a quick kiss on his lips.

Sirius’ grin widened before he lifted his arm, letting you settle into the spot next to him with ease before he wound his arm around your shoulders. You tucked into his side, your hand reaching for the one of his that was hanging off your shoulder now. You intertwined your fingers together, nuzzling your cheek against him as the two of you settled into the familiar but comfortable position.

James eyed the two of you, shaking his head in disbelief. “I don’t get how you do it.”

You raised your brows in question. “Do what?”

“Calm him down,” Remus snorted from his seat beside James. “It’s like a switch flips around you.”

A crease formed between your brows. “Is that…a bad thing?”

“Of course not, love,” Sirius spoke up, glaring at his friends as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “They are just jealous.”

“Stop staring at me like you’re trying to make my spleen explode.”

“Maybe I am.”

James rolled his eyes before his gaze settled on you, a kind and warm smile on his face. “It’s not a bad thing,” he assured you. “We just wanna know how you do it. Especially when he’s drunk. He is a runner.”

You giggled a little at that.

“This side of me is reserved for my girl only,” Sirius defended, puffing out his chest. “You aren’t pretty enough for it, Prongs.”

The boy gaped. “Hey—”

“You’re not my type.”

James glowered. “I’m everyone’s type.”

“Except mine.”

“Asshole.”

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hotjaneaustenmenpoll · 27 days

Text

WHO IS THE HOTTEST JANE AUSTEN MAN ? THE FINAL

Propaganda...

Captain Wentworth (1995):

Ciaran Hinds has that perfect ruggedness yet friendliness to his face that makes him the perfect charming Wentworth. And all of the longing that he manages to convey in his eyes is so hot.

Wentworth may be angry/resentful with Anne but in general he is charming and the best friend you could ever have. Ciaran gets the pleasant parts of his character and brings them out, while keeping a guarded coolness (protective camouflage) with Anne.

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I dunno if this counts as propaganda or not, but Ciaran Hinds has a face that looks like it was jackhammered out of a shale cliff.

If a line like 'I am half agony...half hope' comes out of a face like that you know that man has a soul for poetry.

I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in

F. W.

I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter your father's house this evening or never.

This is propaganda for the next round because I need my boy to be a finalist! But this letter is all the persuasion I need to know that he is a winner

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Ciarán Hinds in this is a whole other level of "a good man" He makes Anne's decision at the end so much more perfect.

LOOK

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HOW

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YEARNS

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GIF by molinaesque

The yearning the yearning - JLM gives a great look but Captain Wentworth is the king of longing stares. He's trying sooo hard to hate her sooo hard to get over her - 8 years and he thinks he's ready to face her and move on but no he has to notice she's exhausted on the walk, that her nephew is being overwhelming, that she should be dancing and not just playing the piano for everyone else. And even though he's jealous later on when Mr Elliott gives her an "admiring look" in lime he's pleased for her because he knows she deserves to be admired and cherished even if he's angry that he wasn't able to be the one she let admire and cherish her. I just this man - he loves Anne so much and it's so so hot.

Propaganda for Captain Wentworth.

I've always loved Persuasion and so I was voting for him in his polls anyway, but I had never seen the 1995 adaptation. So because of this blog I decided to check it out.

Well. Now I'm obsessed. I came into this tournament fully expecting to vote Firth Darcy to victory. Ciaran Hinds suddenly showed up and sparta kicked him to curb. His every look, every gesture is laden with longing. He's so tender with Anne but then the barely restrained rage in his voice when he speaks to Lady Russell. He's rugged and manly yet tender and considerate.

I BURN, I PINE, I PERISH

If you're wondering why you should vote for Wentworth 95 in the @hotjaneaustenmenpoll, it's because he's got something hot for everyone.

Do you think it's hot when a man dresses up fancy? He looks very dapper in his uniform! Or do you find it more sexy when a man is more casual, a little mussed up, maybe even a little grimy? He does that perfectly too!

Do you find men hot when they're being tender and restrained? Or do you find men hot when they're losing control a bit, maybe getting a bit passionate with anger or jealousy?

Do you like a refined man of culture? Or a rugged outdoorsman?

A warm smile? Or something more broody?

Someone who's the life of the party, boisterous, laughing, charming? Or the strong silent type, serious, calm, mysterious?

Hinds's Wentworth does all of these sexy things brilliantly! You cannot lose with him, he's got it all!

II ranked Wentworth as the #1 Austen man in terms of fuckability, and I stand behind that when it comes to Wentworth 95 versus Knightley 09.

Is Wentworth 95 angry sometimes? Yeah. But that's hot, at least coming from Ciaran Hinds' ruggedly handsome face. Have you heard of makeup sex? Tell me Wentworth 95 and Anne don't have the most scorching hot angry makeup sex imaginable 🥵

And yet Wentworth 95 is also super tender! The slow, gentle, worshipful way he kisses Anne at the end?? So beautiful and hot. The longing way he looks at Anne in silence. The way he is so solicitous of Anne's comfort to put her on the carriage with his sister! You can just tell he's gonna take the time to worship his wife in bed.

And let's not forget that he writes the most romantic letter ever written! The depth of passion in this man, my god! 🔥💕🔥

This is not a who is the better man contest, or who is the more faithful to the book, or who would you most want to marry. This is a hotness contest, and Wentworth 95 is so fucking hot.

Mr Darcy (1995):

Colin Firth (1995) is book Darcy brought to life. He uses tiny gestures and looks to communicate with us and Elizabeth… his struggle is so subtle but so palpable. A beautiful asshole with a creamy nougat center. Just perfect.

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Those heart-eyes right up above☝️? Hot!

Passive-agressively drinking tea? Hot!

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The way he rushes over to see Elizabeth at Pemberley on those delicious long legs of his with that slutty wet curl hanging over his forehead? Hot!

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Fencing? Hot!

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The way he is so concerned about Elizabeth crying and takes her hand even though he shouldn't? Hot!

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This dimple-y smile of pure joy because he knows he's married to Elizabeth freaking Bennet? Hot!

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Colin Firth Darcy is simultaneously immaculately put together and entirely falling apart internally. The wet shirt scene is so iconic not (only) because ‘oooh almost-shirtless sexy man’, but because it’s a metaphor for how he’s absolutely falling apart!!! This is a private moment, when he doesn’t think anyone can see him. And then he bumps. into. Lizzie. At his house!! And the entire sequence that follows with him rushing out still doing his jacket up to catch her before he leaves. They are both on the back foot and it’s THAT moment of confusion that opens a more honest dialogue between them.

Without Firth in a lake you wouldn’t get Macfadyen in a downpour!

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There's a reason why Colin Firth is forever known as Mr. Darcy above all other roles he's had and will have! Even ignoring the wet white shirt, which has become A Thing now, he is so hot with his curly hair and his little half smiles and his intense looks of longing and his legs that go on for milessss.

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This cannot be real. My fellow Jane Austen people. Without Colin Firth’s Darcy we wouldn’t have 90% of modern JA content. He opened a door and there was no turning back for modern culture. There would be no MacFadyen standing half undressed in a field at dawn without Firth jumping into a lake first. There would be no hand flex if there hadn’t been Firth doing his best impression of a man undressing Elizabeth Bennet with his eyes and hating himself for liking it. There would be no Bridgerton without Bridget Jones. Let’s face it people. We wouldn’t be here having these arguments if Colin Firth had not been Mr Darcy.

Colin Firth understood Mr. Darcy in a way no other actor ever has. He is awkward as fuck in a way that comes across as snooty and judgmental on a first watch-through, then can be read as awkward and longing on a second time. His performance had such depth while looking extremely shallow at first glance. This man WAS Mr. Darcy. (I love 2005, as well, and I love Matthew McFayden, but he was awkward for awkward sake.) Colin Firth made Darcy's awkward look snooty and aloof.

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THE socially awkward Darcy is the 1995 Darcy - look at him coming and sitting in awkward silence with Elizabeth pointedly asking her if she wants to live a long way from her family (to obvious relief) and then abruptly leaving - vote for him please 😭😭😭😭

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Colin Firth served so much as Darcy that when they did Bridget Jone's diary, they brought him back.... AS DARCY. The smoulder. The angst. The man is the quintessential Darcy.

“Firthing” is an actual term that is used now to describe someone yearning intensely. It is named after Colin Firth’s Mr Darcy performance.

Colin Firth all the way. He's known in our household as Owl Eyes because in every frame he's mooning over Elizabeth Bennet. Unsurpassable, unmatched, golden television (and some of the worst dancing you've ever seen).

Colin has beautiful, touchable curls.

Link

My high school English teacher was very into using movies to teach alongside literature, which was a great teaching tool. When we read Pride and Prejudice, he used both 2005 and 1995 for various scenes. What stands out to me all these years later was when it got to the part when Lizzy went to help Georgiana after Caroline dropped Mr. Wickham's name and Darcy gives Lizzy this look:

My teacher stopped the film and pointed at Darcy's face and said, "See that? That is THE look. If someone ever looks at you like that, you know they're in love." And what is hotter than that?

Also this teacher had two cats named Lizzy and Darcy. Not relevant to the poll but I wanted you all to know about them.

Colin Firth dazzles and amazes in the nuanced performance that just blows all other attempts away.

The best thing about the Colin Firth wet shirt scene is actually the scene that follows where him and Lizzie are both just dyinggg of embarrassment but Darcy pulls himself together refuses to lose his advantage and runs to get dressed and chase her down before she leaves - just the mix of cringe and hopefulness at seeing her again is so well done and so attractive!!! (this is just the bit where he's running after her but I love it all!)

#hotjaneaustenmenpoll #the final #take two (SORRY)#captain wentworth #mr darcy #persuasion 1995 #pride and prejudice 1995 #ciaran hinds #colin firth #persuasion #pride and prejudice #jane austen #frederick wentworth #fitzwilliam darcy #Youtube

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girlgenius1111 · 4 months

Text

something isn’t right, babe

r is a brat, alexia is pissed. r tries to take her punishment, but isn’t really in the mood.

cw: 18+ some smut, safeword use + aftercare

Alexia was pissed. Rightfully so, honestly. You'd had an attitude all day, seemingly without reason, and you'd snapped at her in front of the whole team when she'd quietly tried to ask if you were okay. She didn't appreciate being disrespected, especially not in front of your teammates, and the stony expression on her face as she drove you both home made it clear she would have something to say about it.

It had been a tough week, honestly. You'd been more anxious than usual, for seemingly no reason. This happened, sometimes, it wasn't anything to worry about, which is exactly why you didn't mention it to your girlfriend. She worried about enough as it was.

Today had been too much, though. Everyone was being loud, training was hard, you hadn't slept well, and you just wanted to collapse into Alexia's arms every time you saw her. You couldn't do that, so you took to avoiding her. She'd been so nice about it, too, quietly approaching you during a water break and softly asking if everything was okay. You didn't mean to tell her to fuck off, definitely not as loudly as you did, but you were afraid that you'd bury yourself in her arms if you spoke to her for too long.

Her jaw had immediately clenched, and you knew you were in for it when you got home. It wasn't the first time you'd acted out at practice; normally, you did so because you wanted attention. And you did want attention, just not particularly the kind that Alexia was planning on giving you.

You could take your punishment, though. You'd been a brat, and you deserved it. And the aftercare you knew Alexia would give you would make it worth it. Even if she'd do all those things if you just asked for them, you couldn't ask for them. So, when she pulled you possessively into the house, and instructed you to get on the bed, you listened.

It was easy to lose yourself in the feel of Alexia's body on yours, let yourself sink into the pleasure that came from her hand making harsh contact with your ass. When she told you she was going to fuck you, you nodded. Your head was fuzzy, and you were still anxious, but you thought it would be fine. You thought it would make you feel better.

You were on your hands and knees, Alexia steadily fucking into you, when you got overwhelmed. Nothing really prompted it, but your eyes snapped open, and you gripped the sheets tightly in your hands. Your first thought was that she wasn't touching you enough; you needed to feel her, her hands, her lips, her weight on top of you. Instead, she was kneeled behind you, hands pulling your hips to move in sync with hers.

You hadn't used your word in a while. Alexia knew your limits well, and she always knew when to stop, what you could take and what you couldn't. She didn't know how badly you'd been feeling today, though, nor was she aware that your actions earlier weren't a cry for punishment, a poorly camouflaged request for her to fuck you senseless. So, you inhale deeply, reaching one of your hands back to grip tightly onto her wrist.

"Red," you manage to croak out. At your words, Alexia stops her movements instantly, brow furrowing with concern.

"Okay, bebita. I'm gonna pull out," she says, soft voice contrasting to the stern, dominant one she had been using before. She eased herself out of you and flips you onto your back easily, hands moving off of you in case you didn't want to be touched. She hastily steps out of her strap before speaking again. "Are you okay?" she asks, concerned. She couldn't remember the last time you'd needed to use your word. She hadn't sensed anything was wrong, until you'd grabbed her wrist rather desperately, and spoken.

"I'm okay, just too much," you explain, blinking up at her. "I'm sorry," you add, almost as an afterthought, mistaking the concerned expression on your girlfriend's face for one of annoyance.

"No, never say sorry for using your word, mi niña, never." she reassures, taking in how your body was shaking slightly, the aftershocks of being overstimulated still rocking through you. "Can I do anything?" looking down helplessly at you.

"C'mere," you request, reaching one shaky arm out to her. She doesn't waste a second, all but collapsing onto the bed, and pulling you into her side. You burrow in, tucking your nose into her neck, and inhaling the comforting scent of your girlfriend.

"What happened?" she asked quietly, unsure if she'd done something wrong.

"Don't know. Too much all of a sudden. Just needed to feel you," you tell her, and she nods, pulling you even closer, until your body is laying almost flush on top of hers. You're quiet for a few moments, before you speak into Alexia's neck again, much more tentatively this time. "Didn't feel good today. My head wasn't in the right place, I should have said something before we started," you admit.

"Why didn't you? And what do you mean you didn't feel good today?"

"I was anxious, I think. I didn't realize it, though, not until I got home. I wanted you to take care of me, and I knew you would after I got my punishment."

Alexia's disapproval filled the silence.

"You could have asked," she tells you, trying to keep her frustration at bay. It wasn't frustration, not really. It was worry.

"I broke the rules, though. I deserved a punishment," you argue, wanting her to understand.

"Not when you weren't feeling right. I never want to punish you when you don't feel 100%, not ever. You don't need to suffer through a punishment you aren't in the right headspace to receive because you need me to take care of you. That's not fair to you, and it's not fair to me."

You wince at her words, knowing full well that they're true. You feel tears prick your eyes, knowing you messed up. How was Alexia supposed to trust you now? You sat up, ignoring the way the anxiety returned to your gut at the loss of contact, intending to go shower and give Alexia some space. She was clearly upset, and she didn't need you bothering her.

"Where are you going?" she asked, confused, reaching a hand out to stop you.

"I'm gonna shower," you say, still fighting back tears. "I'll give you some space, I'm sorry I messed up, Ale."

"No," she says simply, pulling you back down, this time to straddle her lap. You're confused, but you can't help the sigh of relief you let out at being pressed up against Alexia again.

"No?" you ask.

"No, I don't want space. I want to take care of you in the way you need," she responds, the words mumbled against your collar bone.

"But," you begin, before she interrupts you, pulling back to press a finger to your lips.

"No buts. You're going to promise me that the next time you feel like this, you'll tell me. And then we're going to take a bath, eat a snack, and watch whatever heinous show you want."

"That's it?"

"You seem determined to get me to agree with you that you don't deserve to be taken care of. I'll never agree to that. You should have said something, but you're going to promise me this will never happen again. And then I'm going to do the things you need me to do, because you are my beautiful girlfriend, and you deserve love and care. Always, with no prerequisites." she says, her words leaving no room for argument.

You lean back in, resting your forehead on her shoulder.

"Okay," you respond in a small voice. "Thank you."

"Anything for you, bonita." Alexia responds easily, all frustration gone from her voice. "Bath?"

"Por favor."

-----

You're reclined in the tub, resting comfortably in the warm water, pressed back against Alexia. She hasn't let go of you since carrying you into the bathroom, and it doesn't seem that she has any plan to anytime soon.

Her hands softly run up and down your arms, as she hums a soft tune in your ear. You're overwhelmed, honestly, at finally getting what you've been craving from her all day. You turn your head where it rests back on her shoulder, nuzzling your nose against her jaw.

"How are you feeling?" she asks, arms abandoning their motions to wrap around your abdomen instead.

"Mmm, better. Love you," you tell her, almost delirious with how loved she's making you feel. Her chest shakes with silent laughter.

"Bueno. Te amo, mi niña bonita," she says, pecking the side of your face lightly. You simply hum in response, and Alexia realizes that you are starting to drift off. "Wake up, amor, we need to get out and eat something." You grumble, but your eyes flutter open, and you allow Alexia to help you out of the tub, and wrap you in a fluffy towel.

The midfielder makes quick work of drying you off, swatting your hands away when you try to do it yourself. She dresses quickly, sighing dramatically and heading to the kitchen for a snack when you refuse to let her pull clothes on you.

You follow her out of your room shortly after, settling in the corner of the sectional, wrapping yourself in a blanket. Alexia joins you after a couple minutes, balancing about 8 different snacks in her arms, carefully placing everything on the coffee table. She sits down next to you, sandwiching you in between her and the couch cushions, wrapping a strong arm around your shoulders. You're pretty squished next to her, but her steady presence next to you makes you feel safe and secure.

Content, you rest your head on her shoulder, grabbing a handful of the popcorn she was holding out to you. She flicks on the tv, putting on the episode of love island you'd been watching. She hated reality tv, more than almost anything.

"You must really love me, if you're putting up with this tonight," you comment, leaning up to kiss her cheek softly, despite your teasing tone.

"I do. I really love you, bonita," she responds, looking down at you completely seriously. You're struck at the passion behind her words, the fire in her eyes. Her gaze is almost overwhelming, and you feel yourself getting slightly choked up. Alexia doesn't say anything, just softly smiles at you, before tugging you in closer to her and pressing play.

"I love you too, Ale, more than anything," you finally say, a couple minutes later. She knows, but she doesn't think she'll ever tire from hearing the words leave your lips.

-----

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader

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my-love-is-sunlight · 2 months

Text

A world we are both in

Portgas D. Ace x fem!reader

Warnings: none this is honestly so self indulgent, pure fluff with fem reader

Word count: 1.6k

Summary: A heartfelt conversation with Ace in a open field

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The sun kissed you gently, you soaked in its warm rays and internally thanked the breeze that danced with the trees for helping you feel fresh and secure. The almost musical waves of the ocean could be heard at the distance like a so familiar melody, you opened your arms and took in a big breath. This were your only moments of true real happiness, where nothing in the world could bother you, or so you thought.

“What’s with your face?” a shadow hovered over you which made you groan, slowly opening your eyes you were graced with the view of your commander and dear friend Ace, you scoffed before rolling around to land on your belly in the grass and hid your face in your own arms “What’s with yours? Oh right! That’s just how your face is” you answered him playfully before closing your eyes and sighing loudly so maybe your friend would take a hint that you wished to go back to your peaceful activities with silence.

Ace’s gaze lingered, watching you as he wondered what troubled your mind. This past few weeks you had been behaving quite out of your character, you were quieter and wishing to be alone way more than usual.

One of the main reasons you and Ace had become inseparable was because you would always be there for him, you would joke along in his silly games or you’ll be there to listen to whatever troubled him. And when he didn’t wanted to talk and just seek companionship, you’ll talk about your past or silly hobbies you had seemed to be enjoying at the moment, spark conversations about anything and everything and Ace’s favorite one was when you would allow yourself to be vulnerable and pull down the strong walls you had build around yourself, and pulling down his at the same time.

Upon first meeting you he realized you were strong and independent which obviously he found absolutely attractive and you were gorgeous too, he thought he was seeing an angel on the Moby Dick’s deck when you first arrived. Then as he would spend more time around you and actually getting to know your character, he saw you were also soft, creative, caring, romantic, funny and extremely kind. But sometimes you seemed to fail to see that for yourself.

He carefully sat down beside you to not stir you out of your peacefulness “So are you gonna tell me what’s wrong or should I tickle you till’ you tell me?” another loud sigh was heard as you rolled over again to look up at his black eyes, there was worry camouflage by a teasing grin, he wanted you to talk to him without scaring you away like a bird outside a window.

“Have you ever loved, Ace?” Oh so you were the one asking questions now? The commander was taken aback by the question and almost embarrassed, he really thought about what words was he gonna allow spill out of his mouth, something he rarely did “Yes, I love my brothers and my friends and my crew” he was met with a giggle that softened him after he had stiffened at your blunt question, he smiled to himself at the sound of your laugh, something he always seemed to seek “I mean yeah of course but like… romantically” both of your eyes drifted from him and stared at the sky as you felt the warm settle in your cheeks and ears.

A comforting silence accompanied by the loud wind and waves of the ocean fell upon the two of you, Ace’s heartbeat quickening could be heard if you really focused your senses. Where were you going with this? “I- uhm…” Ace was choking on his own words “What does this have anything to do with my question that I asked first, sweetheart?” The pet name made your stomach stir with wild butterflies and your eyes quickly shifted to the fire fist who had a grin planted on his stupid face, he knew you too well.

Truth was what was bothering you was him. Portgas D. Ace was a man beloved by almost everyone that met him, he was charming, playful, energetic, confident, extremely handsome and a man with strong ideals so of course you had taken a like to him when you first met. You still remember how he eagerly introduced himself to you, taking his hat off and doing a stupid reverence which immediately made you laugh and roll your eyes. He was endearing but as you would spend more of your days and nights around the commander, that simple ‘liking’ and ‘endearment’ had turned into something more, something that you could not hide.

Awake at night in haunted you, the idea that you loved that reckless pirate and how he would probably never reciprocate, you weren’t the type Ace would fall head over heels for, you were introverted by nature, artistic at heart, strong minded and always seemed to be enjoying yourself more around your hobbies and mundane activities rather than drinking in loud bars which was a place he would frequent. Ace was so wild, feared and always the life of the party while you were overlooked and quiet.

Nevertheless, you remained a little hopeful as he started to slowly show a different side of him. He wasn’t confident all the time, self hatred blinded him and resented the world you both had been born in, it had failed him. Ace shared a piece of his soul with you that no one outside his closed doors ever knew, and you kept it safe.

“Sometimes I feel like I am not capable of love” you made a stop to try and find the correct words “In the sense that I feel no one is ever gonna be capable of loving me, like really love me… which is funny because I am someone that loves love, and loves a lot. I love nature, I love art I love the people around me, I love life”

The fire fist clung at every word and read onto every letter that you had just spoken. Ace always felt like an outsider, miss placed in a world that hated him for something he was not at fault; but with you, it was like two puzzle pieces that fit in perfectly, while he loathed his life, you loved it, celebrated it, embraced it and brightened it. You complemented each other perfectly

Ace was pulled out of his daze as you got up the grass stretching and clearing your throat, his eyes never leaving you “But I am just rambling and being ridiculous aren’t I?” a nervous giggle escaped your lips as you took in the beautiful view of the field one last time

“Well, we should probably get going, freckles” you offered him a hand to get up which he took without hesitation, but didn’t move. A mischievous smile decorated his features before in a swift move he pulled of your hand with enough force to tackle you on top of him, then rolled over caging you beneath him “Yeah you sound ridiculous” he whispered on top of your face, both of your eyes aligned his exploring yours eagerly before turning to your lips, you wiggled beneath him trying to escape as nervousness took over your body, face bright red. Using both your hands in his chest you tried pushing him out but he didn’t even flinch, only his hat falling beside you “Ace stop! I told you what you wanted! Don’t start” your eyes now frantically tried to escape his “Sounds ridiculous…” One of his hands traveled to your jaw to keep you in place and to make you look at him again “because a world where you’re not loved, is one I don’t exist”

Time slowed down, your mind only able to pick up the gentle breeze that lulled both of your bodies and your heart that threatened to jump out of your ribcage. Your breaths mixed together, hands still on Aces chest and eyes glistening, the sun in the sky being the only witness of this moment. Your mouth opened but words failed to come out, Aces hand let go from your jaw to remove hairs from your face, his gaze soft and sweet “Ace…” before you, his name always seemed to ring in his ears like an awful sound, but now the way you called him was like a spell, the most wonderful symphony he had ever heard. Both of your hands grabbed his face before slowly kissing his lips, shyly but full of love and intention. At the action Ace lost control and let his whole weight crash only deepening the kiss, you could feel the smile forming on his lips before attacking yours, he had been waiting a long time to feel them, to love you out loud.

Both your lips separated as you gasped for air and in between giggles you said “Took you long enough, thought I was gonna have to show up with a guitar outside your door” Ace scoffed playfully before hugging you and rolling around the field, both of you laughing as you went down. You landed on top of him, admiring his beautiful face painted with freckles and a happy smile “I would have loved that actually” you rolled your eyes “I love you but I rather not be the laughing stock of the whole crew thank you very much” he dramatically gasped “Oh so you do love me, awww”

You tried to get up and leave but he held your waist tight, afraid you’ll fly away and leave him behind. Ace laughed at loud at your slightly embarrassed expression before sitting up, facing you then gently pressing his forehead in yours “You do right?” He whispered ever so softly, both teasing and a little insecure still not believing he deserved unconditional love, specially from someone like you “I am yours” you answered without missing a beat taking both his hands in yours “Would you be mine?”

Yes, in this and every world

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Yea yea I love him ok? Give me a break. This was written with my singer!reader in mind of the first ever Drabble I posted here so do whatever you want with that. As always feel free to request and correct me, English is not my first language

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breaddwoo · 1 year

Text

-Bloody Kisses-

pairing: wednesday x vamp! reader

word count: 3.22k

warnings: slight nsfw, blood

desc: wednesday helps you with your blood deficiency and becomes addicted to the pain of your bite :)

a/n: lowkey erotic despite there being nothing sexual 😭😭 will probably write a pt 2!!

edit: pt 2 is out :)

tonight was like any night for wednesday; pitch black gear on to help camouflage her in the dead of night, hoping to once again get a glimpse of the hyde.

what she didn't expect was to watch a girl tumble limply down the incline that wednesday took shelter at the bottom of.

she heard a few coughs, painful ones that sounded full of death. coughs like those came from people close to hades' door.

in her intrigue, wednesday couldn't help but lift from her hiding spot and slowly trek towards the girl laying face down in the fallen autumn leaves. she knelt, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder to flip her upright.

who she saw was someone she recognized to be one of enid's closest friends. from enid's stories, her name is (y/n) and she happened to be part of the vampire division of the school.

wednesday noticed your eyelids begin to flutter with consciousness and she took a step back.

when you fully opened them, it took you a second to recognize where you were. taking in your surroundings, wednesday's attentive gaze smothered you.

your arms began to lift you from the ground, but they went limp and you collapsed into the leaves once more.

"you look awful," wednesday said in her monotone voice.

you looked up to her, eye twitching with pain, "gee, thanks."

"i suppose you're (y/n)."

"and i suppose you're wednesday addams," you retorted, a painful coughing fit following soon after.

"how come you're in this state?" she questioned. it almost sounded like concern, but you knew enough from enid that wednesday doesn't feel emotions like that.

you let out a self-pitying laugh, "i can't ingest the animal blood offered at school. i always throw it up, no matter how hard i try. i'm dying and i can't tell anyone."

"are you not already dead?"

her insensitivity was astounding.

"my bad for not using the correct terminology," you spat, another coughing fit taking over your lungs and causing you to clench the soil beneath.

as wednesday watched your life drain from your weak body, an idea dug itself into her thoughts. "is it human blood that you desire?"

you looked at her like she was stupid. the expression on your face was answer enough, so she continued, "i will give you some of mine."

now your pale face was dumbstruck. is this bitch crazy?

"why the fuck would you want to do that?" you asked, thinking her suggestion was absolute nonsense.

"to say that i am curious about the feeling of a vampire bite would be a... crude understatement," she replied, her eyes the color of the sky above, omitting the stars.

you shook your head defiantly, "absolutely not. i don't think i could control myself, i might just suck you dry."

wednesday's mouth twitched, restraining a masochistic smile.

"do you really have a choice, (y/n)? "

you looked down at yourself. your throat felt like hell fire and every single limb held an unbearable ache. you were treading a thin line between immortality and mortality, and that scared you.

running a hand through your hair, you gazed back up at her, "fine. we do this once, and i will owe you. just please, please don't tell anyone. i'm afraid everyone will believe i'll go ballistic without blood and i'll get expelled."

wednesday nodded and slowly sat beside you, her small frame accentuated by the moon light behind her. getting a better look, you could tell how pretty she was. enid never mentioned that.

"what is it that you need me to do?"

you looked at her, examining what she was wearing. a black spaghetti strap dress that zipped from behind with a long sleeved turtle neck beneath.

realizing what you were about to say, your face began to warm, "uhm- you'll need to uh, to removed the turtle neck under your dress."

she nodded, then said, "it would be easier if you would unzip the dress for me."

how she kept a calm, emotionless expression on her face was beyond you. having this much contact with someone you've only heard about through stories made your face flush red.

after unzipping her dress, wednesday didn't even hesitate to pull the turtle neck over her head. this exposed most of her bare, pale back and the inky lace bra that her clothes had hidden. you were intensely mortified.

"w-wait, are you okay with me seeing this? i-" your words of embarrassment were cut short by more hacking, this time with a string of blood down the side of your mouth.

"i am fine," she stated, moving the dress back up and concealing her bra once more. now her shoulders and neck were fully exposed. your mouth practically flooded with saliva at the thought of piercing the smooth skin with your fangs.

"(y/n), " she said, this time with a little force in her tone, "do it. i want you to."

these words made your chest tighten. you tried to breathe a little more steady, "okay."

scooting closer to her, you moved one of her black braids from the left side of her neck to let it hang behind her. you took her bare shoulders in your hands, leaning close to the skin of her exposed neck.

though you felt awful for what you were about to do, you also felt completely exhilarated.

and, surprisingly, so did wednesday. the way you gently caressed her as your warm breath tickled the skin about to be pierced; it had her mind tangling in knots that she couldn't be bothered to unravel.

the prick of pain that followed the penetration of your teeth made wednesday's entire body shiver. she was hyper aware of the blood draining from the spot you assaulted but the feeling was intensely pleasing.

she felt warm. then she felt cold. her shoulder went fuzzy, like it no longer blonged to her. then her mind floated in a euphoria she'd never experienced before; the pain was like a bruise she enjoyed pressing on.

you also felt incredible. with each second that passed by, it felt like life was entering your body once more. the liquid vitality that you consumed almost made your still heart beat again.

you loved the feeling. you wanted to drink. you wanted all of it, all of her. but in the back of your mind, a small voice screamed at you to stop. the voice got louder until you forced yourself to pull away.

a small stream of blood dripped to wednesday's collarbone. "you can lick it," she said in a monotone voice laced with need. you shook your head, wiping your mouth.

wednesday couldn't wrap her head around the euphoric feeling that your bite had inflicted on her; all she knew was that she wanted to experience it again.

with your fangs on full view, color returned to your face and a body back to it's original state, you looked like a whole new person. this thought set a fire ablaze in her stomach and she couldn't tell if she enjoyed it or not.

her arms felt like wet noodles. she tried to lift them, attempting to put her garment back on; it was to no avail.

you saw this, "i'm sorry, i drank too much. let me help you."

as you went to help her, she fell backwards onto your lap. eyes widening in concern, you lean close to check her complexion, "wednesday, are you okay? i'm sorry, i really should have restrained myself. "

"no," she shook her head adamantly, "i requested this. and it's not like being in this state is unenjoyable."

you pressed your lips together in a line full of judgement, but said nothing. after her clothes were placed back on her, she tried to lift herself off of you.

"wait, wait- trust me, if you can't put your own clothes on then you can't stand by yourself," you said with care, standing and placing her arm around your shoulders.

the walk back to nevermore was quiet. neither of you spoke a word, wednesday too light headed from the painful pleasure of your teeth. she even forgot what she had been doing outside in the first place.

when you arrived at her dorm, she was still weak and needed support. wednesday held a finger to her lips. her dead eyes motioned to the door. you knew that enid was inside, and hopefully, she was asleep.

with the door unlocked, you assisted wednesday to her bed. when you went to set her down, however, you tripped on the corner of her bedsheets that hung to the floor.

wednesday's eyes widened in surprise as you came crashing down on top of her. chest to chest, the details of her face were in close proximity. you could practically trace patterns in her constellation of freckles.

shuffling and the sound of a comforter moving came from the other side of the room. enid.

wednesday's arms encircled you as she pressed you closer to her chest, forcing your head to hide in the crook of her neck.

your face was practically on fire. this is so not how tonight was supposed to go.

"shhh," she whispered, completely unfazed. you could tell she was being cautious of her sleeping roommate.

as her soft, black hair began to tickle your nose, she released you. you quickly backed away from her, making sure you stayed quiet.

"thank you," you whisper. she gives you a slightly perplexed expression in response.

tiptoeing to the door, you open it. looking behind one last time, you notice that wednesday has situated herself into a more comfortable position. you waved at her, and close the door without a sound.

wednesday lay there, mind recounting the events of the night. she tried to cipher through them, but one thought continued to surface through the rest:

she smells like vanilla.

> > >

wednesday wanted to see you again. it seemed like every time she caught a glimpse of you in the hallway, you soon disappeared as if you hadn't been there.

it was starting to frustrate her. were you avoiding her?

the thought made her grind her teeth; it also made her insanely confused. normally, she would prefer that people avoided her. but with you, it just made her want to scratch at her skin.

finally, during lunch period a week later, she saw you sitting with enid and her group. wednesday contemplated whether or not it would be a good idea to go up to you; she had promised to keep the ordeal a secret. no one knew the two had any connection to one another.

her heart outweighed her brain in the end and she stepped into the maze of lunch tables.

"(y/n)," she called. the words you were speaking to enid dropped from your mouth when you noticed the girl in black next to you.

you smiled, fangs displayed, "oh, uh- hey, wednesday."

wednesday's eyes turned to where your tray should be, noticing that you had nothing to eat.

"i need to talk to you," she stated, "in private."

enid raised a brow, trying to subtly ask her why? but wednesday pretended to be ignorant; though, she knew she wouldn't be able to avoid an interrogation later.

you awkwardly laughed, giving a strained smile, "sure."

when wednesday lead you to a deserted hallway, her expression changed into a slightly angry one.

"are you avoiding me?" she asked bravely. you were surprised.

"well, we're not friends so i didn't think we needed to see one another."

the answer irritated her.

she tried to restrain her snarkiness, "i see you're still avoiding the animal blood."

you nodded, afraid of where this was going. it's not like you didn't enjoy what you both did a week ago; it was quite the opposite actually.

every time you thought of her your breath caught in your throat. the image of her bare shoulder basically served on a silver platter plagued your mind. god, avoiding her was awful.

you just knew that if you saw her again, you wouldn't be able to control yourself anymore. the little restraint you had was terrifying.

"so? what do you want?" your words came off a bit harsher than you intended, but you were afraid of her intentions.

she cracked a small smile, but it quickly dissipated as she said, "i want to do it again."

you knew it.

"wednesday, what we did- we can't do it again. i'm not as strong as you think," you tried to explain, "i was able to restrain myself last time. i won't be able to again."

wednesday took a step closer; her cold breath sending a ghostly chill down your spine.

"what if i don't want you to?"

you didn't know what to say. her words were painfully tempting; if you could, you would tear her uniform in the middle of the hallway and consume a waterfall.

you stayed silent for a moment, then cracked, "okay, fine, meet me at my dorm tonight. my roommate has plans so she won't be there."

elation filled wednesday to the brim; if she could scream and jump up and down in excitement she would've. instead, she nodded her head once and said, "see you then," before slipping into the darkness of the empty hallway before her.

you took a seat on a nearby bench, putting your head in your hands.

she really had you wrapped around her finger.

> > >

as you had instructed wednesday later in the day with a slip of your dorm key in her hand, she snuck into your room at the devil's hour.

there she caught you in pajamas, reading a book on your windowsill. she cocked her head a bit. the scene perplexed her.

wednesday had never seen you in casual clothing before; nor did she know that you enjoyed reading. this information was practically useless but it made her feel a closeness to you that felt impossible before.

your room wasn't bright like enid's; there were a few pinups of different artists and a cd collection on a small bookshelf. warm lighting made the room feel comfortable, unlike the white hospital lights that wednesday utilized in her own.

it took you a second to realize wednesday had arrived, quickly placing a bookmark in a page and turning towards her.

"are you sure you want to do this again?" you asked, wanting to reaffirm her consent.

wednesday already began taking off the black cardigan she wore over her tank top, looking at you with eyes that spelled are you daft?

you nodded, socked feet making small thumps on the ground as you walked toward your bed.

you patted the spot to your right. wednesday understood this signal, sitting close enough that her thighs touched your own.

a shaky breath left your throat. you were going to do this. it was too late to back out now; not with wednesday waiting patiently before you.

she pushed the strap of her tank top off her shoulder, leaving it completely naked. then you realized that the position the two of you were in wouldn't make this process comfortable enough.

"wednesday, do you mind- uh, shit, how do i say this," you were practically sweating as you swiveled towards her, legs criss crossed.

she mirrored your movements. her eyes were leveled with yours, patiently waiting for your directions.

"please- fuck, please sit in my lap. it'll give me the best angle so that i don't hurt you too badly."

you swore you saw a little flush spread on her freckled cheeks.

"alright," she agreed, crawling over to you. wednesday put her hands on your shoulders as she placed herself in the divot between your crossed legs. in this position, she was basically straddling you.

shit, isn't this a tad too intimate?

your thoughts were far beyond obsurd considering this was your request. knowing this, you sighed and let your eyes wander to her exposed shoulder.

"you're looking at it as if it's a buffet, you know," wednesday stated. you looked up at her, giving an annoyed face.

"i'm just nervous, geez."

wednesday's icey hand slithered up your back and rested at the nape of your neck. she guided your head closer, encouraging you to feast.

"do it," she whispered, her breath tickling your ear. by now, any self-discipline you tried to scrounge up had long vanished.

you leaned in. licking the chosen spot on her neck for a second, wednesday shuddered under your touch.

when you let your teeth puncture the virgin skin, you couldn't help but wrap her in your arms as you gripped her back.

wednesday let her head fall back, closing her eyes. the painful ecstasy was hers once again. this time felt different, though.

this time it was more than just the fangs deep in her skin; it was you, holding her tight as the familiar fragrance of vanilla washed over her senses. pain and pleasure were two sides of the same coin and wednesday felt light headed as she experienced both at once.

your fingers found their way under her tank top, wanting to grab at more than fabric. the taste of her blood made the world turn to static. your ears went deaf and all you could focus on was the girl in your lap and the way her jet black hair brushed against your face.

this act was like a drug administering the same affect on both addicts. you felt drunk and as your teeth sunk further in her shoulder, so did wednesday.

with her abdomen against yours, there was no room for you to get closer. when you pulled away, wednesday looked at you with her eyes half-lidded.

your mind was in a fog as you gazed at her. with the taste of blood still afflicting your tongue, your only thought was how beautiful wednesday looked.

and as she met your inebriated gaze, an overwhelming urge to kiss you took hold of her actions.

she leaned in. despite knowing close to nothing about you and wanting little to do with romance, she wanted you. she wanted you and the painful pleasure you bestowed upon her.

you got swept up in the moment and kissed her back instantly. you squeezed her closer, grazing her lip with your fang. irony blood tainted your lips. the taste left you higher than any drug.

opening her mouth, wednesday deepened the sinful kiss and you reciprocated in full. you felt like you couldn't breath. you didn't want to pull away.

just as wednesday's tongue skimmed your teeth, you pulled away.

deep breaths fogged the cold windows of the small dorm room. you still held her as her dead eyes held something a little more than a dark abyss; something even wednesday couldn't understand.

she wanted to continue, to ask you to bite her again and again and again. it didn't matter if you took all of her; it would be a great headline on a tombstone.

so, once you'd filled your lungs, wednesday stole away the distance of your lips once more.

you fell back, holding her. by now it was far past four in the morning, with school in three hours.

neither of you cared. the bloody kisses were an intoxication full of need; tonight would feel like forever.

#wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday imagine #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday oneshot #wednesday addams oneshot #wednesday x you #wednesday x y/n #wednesday/you

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