#man disrespecting grave

[yabancreations]

Dinghai Love Week 2023 Day 2: Side character / Death.

Xie An, the man, the legend, who I didn't expect to like but here we are. I based his design on his first description on the novel. Also, spoilers without context, I guess.

[anatolienne]

my ass could not be put in an enemies to lovers situation cause when i hate i HATE

[getouuu]

Okubo is probably angry at the fact most ppl want the (potential) reboot to be in bones old se style like me too the fuck ..I never mean that for a lot of mangakas but fuck that guy

[call-me-eds]

Lecture

Masterlist

Eddie x Reader

Wayne walks in on something..unbecoming. He has a special relationship with you, but now all of that is out the window.

“You live under my roof, Boy, don’t you forget that! Your mother is probably rolling over in her grave right now, she taught you better than to disrespect a home like this. Jesus, Ed, that is where we prepare food!”

You were in the bathroom looking at your cheeks grow redder by the second in the mirror while your boyfriend got chewed out, deservedly so. Eddie told you that Uncle Wayne wouldn’t be home for hours. “I barely see him nowadays now that he got himself a girlfriend,” were the exact words out of his mouth.

It wasn’t the first time you ventured out of his bedroom for a quick romp, but it was the first time you got interrupted. Sure, Uncle Wayne would flick the outside lights on and off a couple of times when you and Eddie were taking your time saying goodbye, or he would make a comment about keeping hands above the blanket when you three were watching one of his nature documentaries, but that was different, all innocent.

Now, everything has changed. Eye contact was out of the question for at least a decade, if you even worked up the courage to go back to the trailer before then.

Uncle Wayne made you feel like their home was yours, too, and you took advantage of that. Sleepovers were allowed, as long as your parents knew where you were. You had a standing dinner invitation, and he even picked up a bottle of hot sauce for you after you asked if there was any in the cabinets just one time. It had become such a place of comfort that you felt free enough to undress and let Eddie defile you right there on the counter. And the worst part about it was that it wasn’t even the first time.

Your body almost folded in on itself when you heard Eddie fighting back with him.

“I told you I will clean it-”

“Oh, I’ve seen your version of clean, and that’s not going to cut it. Bring Y/N home, and when you come back, I don’t want a peep from you for the rest of the night.” Eddie was 19, almost 20, but he was being spoken to like a child. God, Uncle Wayne raised him from childhood and now he saw him hunched over you, hips moving against yours faster than his uncontrollable mouth.

Silent most of the time, it was the loudest expression you had ever heard come from Uncle Wayne when he walked inside. You had almost been too overtaken by pleasure that you didn’t even hear him. Almost. That shout would haunt you for the rest of your life.

Eddie grabbed on to you even tighter, moving you behind him swiftly. This wasn’t happening. There was no way. It had to be some sort of twisted nightmare you got from eating too late again.

“Come on, man,” Eddie groaned, hands cupping his now exposed self.

“Oh my God,” you whimpered, crouching behind him, hoping that if you shut your eyes tight enough you might just disappear.

““I just want to come home after work and relax and this is what I get greeted with! In my own house!” Uncle Wayne yelled through eyes squeezed shut. “I am going to go outside, count to ten, and everyone better be fully clothed.” The door didn’t even have time to click shut before you were sprinting to the bathroom. Eddie started to try and talk you down, but Uncle Wayne kept true to his word and was back inside, yelling for Eddie to get out of his room.

“Take a shower and get changed, okay? I’ll handle it,” he said, rubbing your arm reassuringly before pulling on boxers and a t-shirt to do damage control in.

Getting in the shower, even if you didn’t use any of their limited hot water, was out of the question. You wouldn’t use a single amenity the Munson’s offered, and in fact were trying to think of ways to escape so you wouldn’t even need to use the front door. While you spun around, hoping a window had been added in the 30 minutes since you were last in the bathroom, a knock made you jump out of your skin.

“Sweetheart? Want me to take you home?” Eddie’s low voice came through the door, offering a way out as if you hadn’t heard Uncle Wayne demand it from him. You opened the door and Eddie smiled to try and console you, but a whimper came from your mouth still. He just nodded in commissary and put his hand on your back, leading you to the scene of the crime. Not seeing the witness was almost worse than facing him.

“Where did he go?” you whispered like he might jump out at any moment.

“Smoking,” Eddie said. Only when you became a more regular fixture did the boys take their habit outside. There was still an ashtray on the coffee table, but if they just had to indulge they did it where the smell wouldn’t sink into your clothes or their furniture.

The deep breath you took did nothing to calm your nerves as you stepped outside. For just a second you thought it would be better to see him not in direct lighting, but it just made his aura more ominous.

“I’m sorry, Mr.-”

“Oh, I haven’t even thought about what I’m going to say to you, yet. Get on home.” You nodded and put your head down, rushing toward the car.

“That was totally unnecessary,” Eddie huffed.

“I was going to tell you to be back in 30 minutes, but make it 15,” Uncle Wayne bit. Eddie must have felt your pleading energy coming from you, because he didn’t answer back for once and just climbed in the van, where you were curled up as small as you could get in the passenger’s seat.

Normally, you would wave until you were out of sight, and Wayne would wave right back. Having each other’s presence around was comforting, and you both knew how much it meant to Eddie. It was unexpected, but you developed a special relationship.

“I can never step foot in there again,” you said, shoving your face in your hands, skin still hot. Eddie put his hand on your knee, and it’s usual comfort just made you feel even more shame. “Did you see the way he was looking at me? He hates me,” you swiped under your eyes and Eddie clocked your movement instantly.

“He does not hate you,” Eddie assured. “Me, maybe. But he’ll be over it by the morning, I swear.” You grumbled your disagreement and grabbed his hand, holding it firmly for the rest of the drive.

“Come on, Doll,” he separated from you to climb out of the car once he pulled up to your house, but you pushed him back into his seat gently.

“No, you have to get home,” you sighed, looking at your watch.

“He wasn’t serious about that,” Eddie rolled his eyes. “I can spare a minute to walk you to your door.”

“Please, it’s fine. I don’t want you to get into any more trouble,” you begged. He went to fight, but saw how your glassy eyes were filling with tears and your lip wobbled.

“Okay,” he sighed. “I love you, please don’t worry about this. It’s kind of funny,” he smiled.

“It’s not,” you sniffled, although you appreciated his sentiment. “I love you, too,” you kissed him quickly and scampered up to your house, itching to shower off the humiliation.

“It has been two weeks, I promise you he isn’t going to be weird.”

“I am going to be weird! I can’t face him!” Eddie drove right to the trailer after your dinner date, and you were threatening to yell out kidnapping claims.

Eddie had been to your house almost every day in the last two weeks, and you had your intimate moments in your locked bedroom or his car under the sheath of night. Going to the trailer wasn’t an option, and you made that clear; you didn’t even call for fear of Uncle Wayne picking up the phone.

“The longer you avoid him the worse it’ll get. I have to live with the guy, and you’re much braver than I am,” he said, basically pulling you out of the car.

“He used to change your diapers, it’s different,” you locked your legs but he grabbed your biceps, lifting you up and carrying you to the front door. “Eddie, please, please, I am begging you. I’ll watch any movies you want for a month, two months!” you bargained desperately, but he wouldn’t hear it.

At first, he thought it was weird how much you liked to be around his uncle, and vice versa. Initially he was convinced that you were both just being nice to each other to appease him. But then he realized just how similar you were; it was gross. The situation was more messed up than one of those guys that dated someone like their mom, he was dating his uncle.

Having you separated was even worse. Uncle Wayne had been forcing Eddie to listen to his rants about work and you had been so upset and anxious it was making him feel horrible.

“You’re going to be fine,” he said, opening the door with one hand and keeping a supportive grip on you with the other.

“No, no, no,” you grunted, trying to grab onto the doorframe to stay outside. Eddie nudged your foot with his, not unlike he had the two fateful weeks ago.

You were in the small kitchen, heating some water for tea. Warm hands slithered around your bare waist and dipped under the band of your shorts.

“Hi,” Eddie breathed in your ear. There was a smile on your face in half of a heartbeat. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” you giggled. He rubbed his nose against your neck and snaked his ankle around yours, tugging slightly so you were in a wider stance.

“Turning me on,” he mumbled, lips sinking into your skin.

20 minutes later, you were crouched behind Eddie, wishing you could sink into the floor.

“So you didn’t forget where we lived, huh?” The gruff voice you would have made a deal with the devil to avoid greeted you as Eddie forced you inside.

“Hi Mr. Munson,” you mumbled, fingers twisting your bracelet so rapidly Eddie thought it might break.

“‘Mr. Munson,’” he scoffed. “I don’t remember telling you you couldn’t call me Uncle Wayne anymore.” He had always been soft spoken, but you never recalled a time where you struggled to hear what came out of his mouth. Finally, you looked up and found that his cheeks were aflame as well, and the label on his beer bottle was picked clean off.

“We’re going to hang out in my room,” Eddie said, making you jump. You almost forgot he was there, you were so focused on his uncle.

“Hell no, you’re not,” Wayne laughed boisterously, animation coming back to his body. “You’re going to go to the store and get the batteries for the smoke detector that I gave you money for a week ago.” It was no question that if you had been at the trailer in that time the errand would have already been done, the beeping of the low battery already bothering you.

“Why didn’t you remind me before I went to get Y/N,” Eddie whined.

“Because she’s going to keep me company here.” Your heart fell into your stomach, and you thought you might pass out. This was your worst nightmare.

“I can just go and get them,” you quickly offered. “What kind? I’ll just get a bunch of different ones. Give me your keys,” you demanded of Eddie.

“No, no, my nephew can go. This is as painful for you as it is for me, Honey, let’s just get it over with,” he grunted, sitting up a bit in his chair.

“I’ll be back in ten minutes,” Eddie promised. If today was the day he decided to start following traffic laws, you were going to break up with him.

Once the door shut, there was nowhere to divert your attention to. You took as many small steps as possible to the couch, hoping to delay the inevitable awkward conversation. Maybe if you apologized and promised to never come back, Wayne would take it easy on you.

Before you could give that plan a try, though, he started to talk.

“You know how much I love ya,” he said, kicking things off in a much different direction than you thought it would go. “You’re good to Ed, you help out around here no matter how much we tell you to stop, and you’re respectful.” That last word stung.

While you knew your home life was privileged and your childhood was infinitely more peaceful than Eddie’s, that didn’t mean you and your parents were immune to arguments. You were a young adult, after all. The Munson’s trailer provided a safe space for you to escape. The small home was packed with love and comfort, it quickly became your favorite place to spend time.

“But you are a young lady, and I don’t want to see you get in any trouble. Eddie’s mother was too young when she had him, and I won’t have him be stuck in the same cycle.” You wouldn’t believe it if you weren’t seeing it, but he was getting choked up. “He’s a good boy, and he would give everything up if you got into a situation, but I do not want that to happen. And it would be even worse for you, the way people talk. You both deserve to have the freedom to do whatever you want in this life, and I don’t like that you’re doing all of that but I know I won’t stop you, so just, be safe. And for God’s sake, keep it out of the kitchen,” he finished his speech, sitting back in his recliner and taking a long drink from his beer.

Uncle Wayne wasn’t going to ban you from the residence, or shame you, or even judge you. He was looking out for you both.

“I am still, so so sorry. I never meant to take advantage of your kindness.” He had to have heard the sincerity in your voice, it was almost shaking.

“How I treat you isn’t conditional. That boy is my son, and you are like a daughter. I wish you would both get that through your heads,” he sighed.

“Oh,” you breathed out. Never had you seen him be so straightforward with his emotions. That was where he and Eddie differed. You knew instantly if Eddie stubbed his toe or felt dissed by someone in the band, but Wayne played his cards extremely close to his chest. He had laid it all on the table now, though, nothing left to say.

You had to clear your throat so your next words wouldn’t get stuck as you tried to force them out. “And we are always safe, for the record.” He waved his hand and focused his eyes on the TV flickering.

“Well I know you have a good head on your shoulders. I wonder about that boy, though,” he grinned, making the tension from your shoulders release all at once..

“Oh, he means well,” you smiled. A few minutes of silence, not as terrible as you thought it would be, went by before you spoke up again.

“Uncle Wayne?” He turned to you and quirked up the side of his mouth, encouraging you to go on. Eddie made the same face, and you were happy to imagine him at Wayne’s age. “You didn’t, uh, see anything did you?”

“Oh, Jesus,” he shuddered slightly and the color returned to his cheeks. “I would have let a tool slip at work and rip my eyes out. At least then I would have gotten some workman’s comp,” he joked.

“I guess I would have had to come take care of you then, huh? Eddie can barely remember to pick up batteries.” Speaking of the devil, he walked back inside with a pack of batteries and a soda.

“If that ain’t the truth,” Uncle Wayne smiled.

“What?” Eddie asked, handing you the cup and flopping on the couch next to you. He raised his eyebrows, asking if everything had gone alright. You weren’t outside crying like he half expected you to be, so he guessed it went well. Once you leaned forward and kissed him briefly and gently, his worries melted away.

“Nothing. You have to change that battery, though, it’s driving me nuts,” you said, pushing him off of you.

“I don’t know how to do that shit,” he shrugged right as another piercing beep came from the machine.

“Come on, I’ll teach you,” Uncle Wayne said to you, grunting as he stood up. You nodded, grabbing the step-stool and climbing up, getting ready to listen to Wayne’s instructions. He reached down to pull Eddie up by the shirt. “It won’t kill you to learn this, too.”

“That’s what I have you two for,” he grinned, allowing himself to be dragged along.

“I have to put up with him, legally. Why do you do it, girl?” he asked you. Before you could give a sweet, cheesy answer, Eddie got the brilliant idea to offer his opinion.

“Well, I think you saw why.” Your gasp was right in time with Wayne’s palm meeting the back of Eddie’s head.

“You’re sick,” you scowled, ripping the batteries from his hand.

“Shameless,” Uncle Wayne shook his head.

“Kick him out, I’ll take over his room and even keep it clean,” you teased, sliding the battery into place and snapping the cover back on.

“When can you move in?” he asked, offering his hand to help you down.

“I think I liked it better when you two weren’t speaking,” Eddie said, almost regretting bringing you back together. He’d never admit it, but your relationship meant a lot to him, too. His two favorite people.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Still thinking about that person that had a problem with the 'Hobie would be Pro-Palestine' post because it's 'tasteless to inject functional characters into real life politics'

Cause it's like my buddy. my guy.

I don't know how to tell you this but Hobie would fucking hate Zionists. He'd fucking hate them.

We visibly see Hobie throwing glass bottles at riot police he'd obviously back Palestinian children throwing rocks at the gun-wielding tank-covered militant arm of their oppressors DUH

ALSO he'd back the dissolution of the UK for a Free Scotland and a United Ireland. He'd fucking hate monarch loyalists. Also also he thinks Margaret Thatchers grave is a toilet

Also also also he's murdered a cop by choice because they were a cop like come on man

I get it, you want to keep the conversation grounded and serious because it's based in real world traumas and atrocities.

If this was Barney or something maybe it'd be a different conversation

but it's Hobie Brown. Let's think about this please.

We're all like 'Weeeeee I'm so happy we have a real punk character now!!'

And then we start talking about real punk stuff and it's 'what nooo don't do that that's disrespectful'

Changed your mind real quick, huh? Changed lanes no blinker on. PLEASE STOP.

Are you surprised that punks are a fan of a punk character and are using him for punk agendas? That caught you off guard? THAT threw you off your game?? Come on now.

We as fans of Hobie have a RIGHT to appropriate him for leftist punk causes cause he's made in our image. We can use him however we what so long as it adheres the moral foundations of punk.

Hobies for the people.

Also if this post makes you angry

[hyperactively-me]

king!ghost x reader -- hand to hand, man to woman

In the days that followed the incident with Graves, Ghost’s concern for your safety only grew stronger. The memory of Graves’ disrespectful behavior towards you weighed heavily on his mind. One sunny morning, he approached you with a determined look in his eyes, his usual stoic demeanor tinged with a sense of urgency.

“Darling, I believe it's time for you to learn hand-to-hand combat and self-defense,” he began.

You raised an eyebrow, somewhat puzzled by the suggestion. “Hand-to-hand combat? Why would I ever need to learn that when we have countless guards and knights?”

Ghost's expression remained serious as he replied, "Listen, dove, I won't always be here to protect you, and having the guards around can only go so far. Learning self-defense is a crucial skill, one that could prove invaluable in times of danger.”

He grabs your hand, squeezing it gently. “You should feel comfortable in your own home. I just want what’s best for you.” 

Your initial reluctance slowly gave way to understanding, and you nodded thoughtfully. “Very well, teach me.”

. . .

Over the next several days, you embarked on a rigorous training regimen with Simon as your instructor. Each morning, before the day's responsibilities took hold, you met in a secluded training area within the palace grounds. Simon taught you the fundamental principles of self-defense, emphasizing agility, smarts, and knowing how to use your body's strength effectively.

You practiced various techniques, from simple strikes and blocks to more advanced moves like escaping holds. Simon was a patient and skilled teacher, always ensuring that you felt comfortable and confident in your abilities.

One day, at the end of one of your training sessions, Simon reached into his belt and retrieved a familiar knife, the same one you had seen the night before he proposed to you in your home kingdom. 

He slid the knife into your hand, the cool metal a reassuring weight. “I want you to keep this,” he said softly. “This knife has always been with me, and now I want it to be a symbol of your safety. You should always feel safe, no matter where you are, even if I’m not with you.”

Touched by his gesture, you held the knife carefully, a tangible reminder of Simon’s dedication to your well-being. Tears of gratitude welled up in your eyes as you held the knife close to your heart. You knew that he had always been by your side, watching over you, and this gift was a physical representation of his unwavering commitment to your safety. 

“I'll cherish it forever,” you whispered, your voice filled with emotion. You pulled Simon into a tight embrace, feeling the warmth and strength of his presence. “Thank you for always protecting me, Simon.”

Simon's fingers gently stroked your hair as he held you close. His voice was soft but filled with determination as he spoke, “It's something you'll never have to ask me for, dove. Remember that.”

In that moment, as you held the knife and embraced the man who had become your steadfast protector and loving husband, you felt an overwhelming sense of security and gratitude.

- - - - -

(masterlist)

[reveluving]

But just, imagine Graves is suuuuuch a hard ass to you in front of his men and a total ass (almost more than he is to his other men) so it doesn’t seem like he’s giving you favoritism and doesn’t make it obvious that you two are doin’ the dirty dooooo. But behind closed doors Graves gives you whatever you want. Want to go on a specific mission? Sure. What a shiny new gun? Absolutely. Want him to bed you over in his office and just devour you(I imagine this mans is such a giver)? Fuck yes. Wanna blow him under his desk while he’s on the phone with Shepherd? He’s already rock hard and ready. AHHHHG It’s just Warren’s Graves’ damn smile. 🫠

WARREN'S GRAVES’ SMILE MAKES ME INSANE TOO, BABY! I FEEL YOU 🤲🏼😭

Includes: mentions of s~mut; oral s~ex, both m & f receiving (minors DNI!), sugar daddy-ish Graves (but he loves tf outta you), this man is a GONER. 

COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌

Come & check out my COD m.list!

Pray for this man because Phil knew he was done for as soon as he first saw you ✋🏼😔

Him being extra hard on you (in more ways than one) isn’t necessarily in terms of raising his voice more than the authoritative tone he already uses, but more so with an intense stare, or a deeper tone, you know? A stare which I feel like it takes everything in you not to do anything embarrassing as you stand with your team, be it a moan or a slight indication of you rubbing your thighs together. 

And it takes everything in him not to express his satisfaction the way he would behind closed doors. 

No doubt you can take whatever he gives as a commander, just like how he treats the rest of his team—you were a soldier before you were his, after all. But as soon as you and him get together, he has some sense of not letting his ego take charge in a disrespectful sense just to prove a point in front of his company. 

Listen, he’s not a relationship guy. He’s had his fair share long ago, only to opt for one-nighters with his line of work.

But now? He wouldn’t even dream of being in anyone’s presence (and bed) other than yours. 

You may as well mistake a Cupid’s bow accidentally shooting him each time the two of you are in private; raising your hands to his lips with a warmer look in his eyes, tugging you by the hand to sit on his lap as soon as you lock his office door, personally tending to your injuries. Or if the wound needs further medical attention, he'll come to check up on you once the professionals have settled their part.

Picture this: on your day off, you and him in bed after ‘sexc time’, cuddling in bed while looking out of the gigantic hotel windows, though really, Phil’s just looking at you and how the city lights just shine on your skin. 

But back to buying you shit!

Whether you’re the kind to react to his exorbitant gifts bashfully or immediately thank him by showering his face with lipstick-stained kisses, there is nothing in the world he wouldn’t get for you. Even with a mere glance at an item as you window shop, don’t be surprised to find it under your pillow or suspiciously slipped into one of your bags at the barracks. So, the second he notices your eyes linger on something, he will buy it, with or without your knowledge. 

This is just my two cents, but most, if not, all of the blorbos I've written for have a deep passion for you in red lipstick, and Phil is no doubt a part of that list. Even if you can't wear it all the time for obvious reasons, he wants you to keep it with you at all times. 

Because there are days when the two of you can't be in the same team together, much to his dismay, say, because of speciality differences, so one of you is needed elsewhere. 

So, when one day, you surprise him with a little gift before his departure by leaving a pretty red kiss mark on a piece of card, handkerchief or even on the glass of his watch, just know it'll be an always-thing. A habit, if you will, even if you're on the same team at that moment.

Missions, too, even if he downright hates your choices. Again, your respect over his own ego. He won’t stop you, and he has no right to, but expect to be in the same regime/team as his. Should anything happen to you, and he prays to God nothing does, he’ll be the first to find you. 

When days off seem so far, though, his office is where the ✨️ magic happens ✨️. 

It’s a common meeting place for the two of you, be it for sharing food you snuck out of the kitchen or letting him take his frustrations out by smothering his face in between your luscious thighs while you lay back on his desk. His office just has more life whenever you arrive. The reports can wait, he’s (mostly) his own boss, after all. The time you both have is more precious. 

And the part about you blowing him under his desk while he’s on the phone is so real of you.

He’s able to drone out Shepherd’s voice on the other end of the call because he knows the general’s just repeating what they’ve discussed days or hours prior. Phil’s more focused on your glassy eyes, struggling to encompass his sheer girth in your pretty little mouth, all while attempting to smile behind your tears. Looking up at him as he tilts his head back onto the office chair and occasionally bucks his hips while he disguises his moans with mindless grunts as if he had been listening to Shepherd yapping in the first place.

“Mhm, right, right…” His jaw clenched, eyes lidded and a lazy smile worth making you whine around his cock as he stared down at you. His phone was pressed in between his shoulder and ear as he rested his forearm on the head of the chair. The other hand brushed your hair back, enjoying the way your cheeks became just a tad more prominent at his gentle touches.

“Yeah, I’ll call you back about it,” He wanted to roll his eyes, initially at the thought of having to face him again, only for it to drag into a groan when the tip of his touched the back of your throat. He tossed his phone as soon as the call ended, a smirk returning to his face when he could finally focus on you. “Sorry, pretty girl.”

You choked a little when he gently pushed you to take him even more.

Oh, he wanted to hear more of that sound.

“You can take more o’me, can’t ya?”

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

Bonus:

Have you guys seen this video with the guy testing out a pink gun with a teddy bear keychain? THAT. Is most definitely the kind of gift that he’d definitely get for you at first sight. Deadass would twirl my hair if he got that for me.

I imagine that if your team learned about the pink gun (whether or not you added that Phil bought it for you), I just find it hilarious that they’d think it wouldn’t have a strong recoil since you didn’t seem to have a problem with it. And as soon as they give it a try, they just jerk back so violently, and Phil’s watching with the most infuriating smirk on his face since he’s seen you play and pose with it when you shoot, taking the drawbacks like no problem 😭😭

» gorgeous rose divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics ♡

[silassinclair]

Say My Name

Yandere Wild West Outlaw x Reader

CW// 16+ Content, Abduction, Guns, Yelling, Talk of Murder

Introduction (Optional to read)

Last night my life changed forever. My Father managed to get on the bad side of a wanted outlaw by the name of Maddox Graves. And that very same night that very same outlaw killed my Father in cold blood. I thought I’d be next but instead he bound my ankles and hands and threw me with him on the back of his horse. We’ve been riding for hours and I have no clue where this psycho is taking me. Maybe somewhere far away to do diabolical things to me. If that’s the case then I’d rather be dead.

“What’s on your mind princess? You were thrashin‘ and screamin’ a few hours ago. Where’d that fire go?” Graves turns his head slightly back to face me. But I look away. Being this close to him was the most uncomfortable I have ever been in my life. But I had to keep my arms around him as to not fall off the horse and break a bone. I need to be in top condition if I want to escape.

“Nothing…” I mutter. But that answer doesn’t seem to satisfy the greedy bastard. So he halts his horse with a gentle tug of the reins. For a psycho murderer criminal he’s nice to his horse.

“You hungry? Gotta piss or somethin'?” Even though he has a bandana covering his mouth I can tell he’s annoyed by the way his eyes wrinkle slightly.

“No! I’m fine..”

But I’m not fine. How could I be fine? This animal killed my Father and is taking me only God knows where! We've been riding through this desert for hours and it's almost sundown. I'm scared shitless of potential bandits and I'm literally starvi-

Growl~~~

"Your stomach is tellin' me otherwise sweetheart." I can practically hear the smirk on his stupid face.

Hugging myself I sigh in defeat. "I haven't eaten in over a day.. So of course I'm hungry. I just have no appetite."

Lies. I could eat a horse.

"Well you're lucky because look on ahead princess."

Moving my head up and to the side to see over his broad shoulders I see a town less than a mile ahead. I thank the lord in my heart and soul.

"Now don't go thinkin' you can run off and escape. You go to anyone for help and I'll shoot em' dead like your old man." He adds.

Well that dug deep. Scowling, I kick him in the shin causing him to hiss a low curse.

"Watch your mouth. You may be all big and bad but I'm not afraid of you. I won't let anyone disrespect my Father. Especially not the likes of you." I say. But Graves only furrows his eyebrows and crosses his arms. He hops off his horse and grabs me by the waist, pulling me down with him.

"Get off you mongrel!" "Silence that mouth of yours before I gag it!" He snaps, I immediately do as I say. This unpredictable gunslinger could kill me or worse in seconds. I shouldn't have said anything in the first place. My initial plan was too cooperate so I could escape but here I am blowing it. But it's hard because he pisses me off to kingdom come.

His hands are still on my waist as he pulls me closer and speaks, "Do you have any idea why you're alive girlie?"

I feel myself unwillingly do a full body shiver. His eyes were a dark brown but not a normal brown. Almost red due to the sun's setting light shinning down on us. He asked me a question but my throat can't conjure a reply. I only shake my head 'no' back and forth.

"It's because I think you're pretty, and I'd hate to waste a pretty lil' thing like yourself." He slurs. His rugged hands go lower, I can feel them. The fabric of my dress protects me from his direct touch but the violating feeling is all the same.

"So young and precious, you-" He pauses. "What's your name? I never got it."

What a dunce. I sigh and remove his hands from my waist, luckily he doesn't fight back.

"It's Y/n. Y/n L/n."

His eyes soften, but only barely. There's still a hunger behind them. "Y/n..." He tests the name on his tongue.

"I like that. But I like princess more. Sweetheart is a good one too. It matches that cute face o' yours. Or missy when you're bein' a bad girl." His hand goes under his chin as he lists off the stupidest pet names ever.

I deadpan and shake my head back and forth. Pinching my nose bridge I look over at the town in the distance.

"So aren't you gonna ask what my name is?" His sudden voice whispering in my ear and his fingers grazing my neck makes me physically jump and clamp my hand over my neck.

"D-Don't do that!" I shout and take in a deep breath. I'm probably a tomato right about now.

"And I already know your name." I scoff and cross my arms, turning away from him. But he walks around me to try and get me to face him, which I turn again and again after every attempt me makes.

"I wanna hear you say it though. Bet it'd sound real' sexy comin' from your lips." Grave's hands squeeze me around my biceps and lock me in place, leaving me to look no where else except for those devilish eyes of his.

Knowing him for the day I've been around him I know he won't relent. He'll keep me here until I give in.

Sighing I say his name. "Maddox Graves.."

It came out softer on accident. Maybe I'm exhausted. But looking at his concealed face I can see his wide eyes.

"Say it again." He whispers. His grip tightens. It hurts and I whimper in pain but his eyes still bore into mine.

"Maddox Graves." I say firmly. But he groans and shakes his head back and forth. A dissatisfied groan leaves him.

"No not like that! Say it how ya' said it before!" He whines, but he still sounds aggravated.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about..." I mutter and clench my teeth. He has the grip of a bear trap.

"Say it like a wife would! Say. my. name!" He snaps and jerks me forward. My eyes widen in fear at his outburst and I'm reminded that this is no normal man. He's a killer. A dangerous outlaw and the one who killed my Father.

But what he said has me confused. What does he mean by that? He must tell how confused I am because his grip loosens.

"Just... Say it like ya' don't despise me."

That's damn near impossible. But if I want to survive and get food in my stomach then I need to perform.

"Maddox." I say only his first name this time. Gently, I raise a hand and lay it over his that is on my arm. Both his hands drop and I hear his let out a long breath.

He says nothing but he turns away from me and hops onto his horse. His hand reaches for mine and I take it. He pulls me up but I nearly fall over. The control I have over my legs is lacking because of their bound state. Luckily he catches me with an arm.

"Easy now sweetheart. I don't want ya' gettin' hurt. After all, I know what I'm gonna do with ya now." He says in a low timbre that strikes fear into my core.

"Hya!" He shouts and his horse walks in the direction to the town ahead.

This unpredictable psycho... I'm at a complete loss here. What can I do? I'm hopeless! His behavior is nearly bipolar and he's a walking weapon. But now he has a plan for me? Whatever it is I don't want it...

[foone]

Alternative names for humanity along the lines of "Homo sapiens" (Wise man) and "Pan narrans" (Storytelling Chimpanzee) that I'm too lazy to look up/make up Latin for:

chef ape

throwing ape

walking ape

The idea being that we're apparently unique in the animal kingdom in that we cook our food, so we're the Chef Apes. We're also one of the best animals at throwing things: humans have more accuracy and strength when throwing stuff than other apes, by a long shot

And apparently our ability to walk slowly for ages was key to our early survival as persistence predators. We can't outrun a gazelle or mammoth or whatever, but we don't tire easily and so we can just keep following it until it runs out of stamina

Pan basipila: the baseball playing Bonobo

If only baseball had a cooking element, it would be the perfect Human Sport.

We need to devise a sport where you cook something, follow someone for a long time, and then throw it at them.

The most human thing is the surprise pie to the face

Also as much as I like Terry Pratchett's suggestion of "Pan narrans" I wouldn't be surprised if we turn out to not be the only animal that tells stories...

Elephants. I bet elephants do.

Like, there was that case where an injured elephant went to a ranger station for help. One it had never been to before, but other elephants had.

The theory being then that some other elephant had told this elephant "hey if you're hurt, go here, the humans will help"

That, combined with how they have burial rituals (some which might indicate there's an elephant religion!), and that we're working on figuring out how elephants communicate...

It wouldn't surprise me if we learn sometimes in the next decade or two that "oh yeah, elephants tell stories too. They've got FICTION."

So "Pan narrans" isn't what I'd want to bet on as our uniquely human thing.

But at the end of the day, maybe the whole idea of there being a uniquely human thing is, in itself, just another story we're telling.

So maybe it is a good fit after all.

But I especially like the idea that we're the Baseball Ape because I have this image in my head of a galactic council of aliens. Some angry alien who looks like Cthulhu had a baby with a spider has the floor, and they're ranting about "why do the Hu-mons deserve a seat?"

The Crogath are stronger, the Eldru are smarter, the Cybernetic Essense lives longer, the Dromans go farther and faster, the Moltriri have us beat in fiction and poetry, what is so special about these damn bipedal fleshbags that makes them unique in the universe?

And then WHAM. Right between the eyes. A handheld translator device, a bit bigger than a modern smartphone, beans the speaker out of nowhere.

And there's an (untranslated) yell in the chamber as the prime representative calls for order.

"WE CAN THROW, MOTHERFUCKER!"

(it takes a while to properly explain the insult. Crogathi (especially drones) don't really have mothers or sexual reproduction, so they don't really get why that would be an insult. It's finally translated as something like "bud-biter")

and it's true. even after the World Series becomes the Galactic Series, no non-human team ever manages to win.

The Eldrul Librarians almost make the cut in 2486 but accidentally piss off the ghost of Colonel Sanders and end up inheriting the Hanshin Tigers' curse.

alien textbooks describe The Colonel as some kind of human patron deity of baseball and cooked avian food, who should not be disrespected at all costs, or his vengeance from his place beyond the grave will be swift and punishing

(they're right)

"Look, we can't PROVE he was why Gemini Noctis went supernova unexpectedly, but given the protests that had happened right beforehand, and the incredible powers ascribed to the human spirits, do you really want to risk it?"

the funniest possible future: humanity gets a key place in galactic politics because we're never able to adequately convince the universe at large that our ghost stories are just that, stories, and they're terrified shitless that we'll unleash spectral torment on them

"humans? look man, living humans are a pushover. you can easily rip them in half, crack their planets with a quark bomb, their ships are little more than tin cans with a tachyon drive taped on the side. but it's not the living humans you have to worry about... it's the ghosts."

"humans are a bit like the Nontilek, with a two-stage lifespan, a grub and an adult. What you think of as "adult" humans is just their infant stage, and they only fully transform once they "die". Once fully hatched into Ghost form, their powers are almost limitless."

you want humans off a colony planet and bomb them from orbit? good luck, now you have a few million ascended humans who can pass through solid matter and can't be killed, and they will never rest until you and your descendants are gone or dead.

you don't believe me? look at this: One of their most popular stories is about them building an empire that spanned a large chunk of their little planet, then having it MURDER THEIR OWN GOD.

It only worked for a few revolutions, and he just came back, promising that one day all of them would join him in the next phase of their lifespan.

They still, to this day, thousands of orbits later, erect little statues of the means they used to execute their deity.

not even the Crogathi, who literally worship death itself, tell stories that frightening to their newly hatched grubs.

Humans are scary, man, stay away and just give them whatever they want.

the rest of the alien's education on the dangers of humans is just a selection of human movies. the sixth sense, poltergeist, ghostbusters, the shining, the devil's backbone, and, of course, field of dreams.

ghosts AND baseball? it's everything they're scared about humans all in one package!

the obvious twist you could do, of course, is simple:

the aliens are right.

humans are a two-phase species where the elder form has immense power but leaves communication and decision making to the younger form, which will be confused and angry if you acknowledge the presence of their elder-stage members among them.

this often leads to them cutting off contact or their elder-stage members causing immense damage through seeming "accidents" on the contacting vessel. This is believed to be some kind of religious prohibition that they are not able to explain.

so it's official contact protocol to pretend you cannot perceive the elder-stage humans among them, and to give them what they want to avoid possible retribution.

No means to combat elder-stage humans has yet been found, and the limits of their power is not known.

All alien captains are required to study the fate of the SS Ennolon, which contacted a lone human craft in the galactic year of 12,783. They had initiated contact and were getting along fine, until the human showed the Droman captain a picture of their "late father".

Captain Droless, accounting for the difficulty in telling humans apart, then pointed at the father sitting in a chair nearby and said "That is them, correct?".

The human looked at the chair, reacted in confusion, then anger, and asked the contacting crew to immediately leave.

It was another 400 cycles before contact could be reestablished between the Droman Federation and the Human Alliance.

the intergalactic guide describes humans as a powerful race of immortal energy beings who have the strange habit of sending their larvae out on missions around the galaxy, occasionally contacting other races, but refusing to acknowledge their elders, except in stories

they seem to frequently put their young in dangerous situations without lifting a hand to help, so this is suspected to be some sort of pilgrimage or coming-of-age ritual.

(From a twitter thread on October 1st, 2022)

[konigsblog]

Toxic!Simon tracking you down, after you left cause you caught him with another girl>>>

Him then swearing he'll never do it again, and he's just so so sweet making it up to you,

Only for you to catch him cheating once again :((

i feel like this heavy so trigger warnings for mentions of simon's nephews death, and mentions of drugs;

he promised, he swore on his nephew's grave he wouldn't do it again, to be the bast man that you knew. weeks passed, everything seemed fine; he was comforting, holding your form close to his chsst, close enough to feel his thumping heartbeat, a clear sign that he was misusing drugs again.

you sighed in disappointment. it was obvious he wasn't doing well, and you knew what that meant. he only ever used weed whenever he was stressed, of course that wasn't an indication he was cheating, but the text messages on his phone definitely were. simon was knocked out cold on the couch, his chest rising and falling, his forearm covering his eyes.

a notification lit up his screen, and you couldn't help yourself. a message from a women, a name you recognized when you first caught him cheating. the messages were downright disgusting, twisting your stomach, bile rising in your throat in horror as you saw how long this had been going on for.

simon didn't want to give up his cheating life, it was a part of him now. but the thing that really stood out to you, caused tears to form in your eyes faster than your actions, was that he swore on his nephews grave. how selfish could he be? how fucking disrespectful. this wasn't the simon you once knew and loved, the one you'd comfort on his hardest days, the one you'd hold whenever he spoke to joseph's headstone, this was a monster, and you didn't recognize him anymore.

you weeped quietly as he groaned in his sleep, the side affects from the drugs wearing away. looking down at your figure. you were in hysterics, gasping for air. and still, he had the audacity to ask you what happened. “baby..? what's wrong?” his voice boomed, echoed, rotted your brain.

“what have you become, simon..” his eyes widened at your question, glancing at his phone, eyebrows knotted with anger. “why are you looking through my fuckin' phone?” it wasn't a question to answer, you avoided it, revealing your raw and glassy eyes, filled with fury. “why are you speaking to other women, simon. you promised me - you promised on joseph's grave!”

his heart was pounding, slamming against his bones, his fist clenched with rage boiling inside him. “i wish i could say that i recognize you, but i can't. you aren't the man i grew to love.” you didn't expect to see his eyes glistening, dropping to his knees before you, grasping at your thighs and attempting to pull you closer to him as he weeped.

“please, baby.. please, please, i'm so sorry-! you don't deserve this, i'll change- i swear, love.- don't leave me, i'm begging you, you can't do this..!” simon's voice became stuttered, your avoided his gaze, his once adoring and welcoming eyes were replaced with evil, scleras tinted a shade of pink, falling victim to horrible things drugs can do to you.

you shoved him off of you, grabbing the keys, a random jacket on the clothes peg and your shoes. dashing out the door whilst he desperately attempted to sway your opinion, grasping at his hair when you door slammed shut. you could hear the screaming from inside his cheap apartment, the sounds of glass shattering and smashing broke your heart.

all you wanted with the old simon riley back. the memories of the pair of your falling asleep together on the couch, your legs intertwined with eachother, the cheesy romcom blarring from the tv. you missed simon riley, not the monster that grew inside him, the one who left you in tears every night, who promised to change, yet never would, not even for you.

[tetsuskei]

notes: repost from my old blog, based on an old post and brief convo w rei @/sir-kuroo. divider by the great remi @/cafekitsune <3

warnings: office au, self indulgent, reader is a few years younger than kuroo

“do you come here often?”

kuroo tetsurou, a colleague, slides up next to you in the breakroom. his personality is suave and carries an air of sharpness, yet warmth and comfort. he’s always gone out of his way to make those around him feel welcome, and you’re no short of that. if you could think of a household name for your company, it would be his. many speak of him but rarely do many actually see him.

you wonder what’s made him grace yourself with his presence—coincidence, or fate?

he grins boyishly, rocking his feet as he looks at you with the most shining (and pretty) hazel eyes.

you blink slowly, processing his words.

“um…i work here. we’re coworkers.” you answer slowly, nodding to your work badge before resuming your activity of making your daily coffee. your heart starts to race at being watched and you try not to spill anything.

you don’t blame kuroo for not knowing exactly who you are. you work in the art department while he does promotion. you’re like two ships sailing past each other in the night. you’ve crossed paths a few times during brainstorming sessions and kickoffs for projects, but you never fully interacted before. at least not directly. only short pleasantries have ever been shared between each other.

the man’s face pales, smile faltering as you unintentionally dismiss his—quite sad—attempt at getting with you. he quickly regains confidence, though.

you hear him laugh softly before he shifts his weight to his opposite foot. “well just as i thought. i guess that means we work together, huh?”

kuroo watches your nose crinkle cutely as you frown and then laugh nervously, “kuroo-san, i don’t mean to say this with any disrespect, but if you’re still confused, i can contact HR for you.” maybe because you’re new he doesn’t know you’re a full time employee. did he think you were a temp? a freelancer?

and as crushed as kuroo currently is, his heart flutters at the way you say his name. he doesn’t know how, but your obliviousness is endearing and wholesome. he only wishes to grab you by the shoulders and shake you, to make you see what he’s trying to say.

the reality is, he’s seen you around many times. only just now did he work up his own courage to start a full fledged conversation with you. you’re very cute. shy, he can tell. but that only makes him more intrigued and persistent in getting to know you. you remind him a lot of kenma, actually.

said best friend implied kuroo was being shy himself, but he’ll deny it to the grave. he’s too stubborn to take his advice on how to approach you.

and the result? an embarrassingly horrible joke he came up with due to word vomit. he didn’t expect to run into you, but by the grace of god, you’d been right where you are, and he did not want to miss this opportunity.

he rubs the back of his head. “ahh no. i don’t need that, but thanks. i appreciate it.” he says, ending his reply with your name.

your eyes widen in surprise. “you…know who i am?” you blink, tilting your head.

kuroo thinks he’s acquiring cute aggression.

he nods, “of course i do. i know the names of practically everyone here.”

“oh.” you say, deflating a little, hope dissolving from your heart. your fingers tap your mug in thought. “right. it was just that…it seemed like you didn’t know i worked here, so i was confused.”

he clears his throat, noticing your dejection, “no! i definitely do! sorry, i worded myself wrong earlier. i-it’s just that—never mind.” he runs a hand over his face, and you’re shocked to see how nervous he suddenly appears. he always seems so confident and sure of himself, you wonder what could be going on now.

“no worries or hard feelings.” you laugh, and his shoulder sag with relief. did you know your voice could be so calming?

the tall man exhales, releasing the rest of his nerves. “allow me to start over. hi, i’m kuroo tetsurou, i work in the promotion department.” he shakes your hand, “i’ve seen your work. it’s really impressive.”

you palm is clammy as you return the handshake and introduction, but the smell of his cologne makes you feel more at ease.

“it’s nice to formally meet you, kuroo-san. you work for the jva is nothing short of amazing.” you reply.

“oh,” he quickly becomes bashful, a humble smile on his face, “it was nothing, really.”

he changes the topic, “but enough about me. back to you. i’ve been meaning to tell you all of that for awhile, but never worked up the courage to. i really should have sooner, i appreciate all that you’ve done to make the jva as successful as it is.” he continues, smiling. he hopes and begs that you don’t see his cheeks turning red.

your expressions lifts again, and kuroo can’t help but notice the small dimple in your left cheek. “thank you! that’s very kind of you, kuroo-san! you didn’t have to thank me at all, i’m just doing my job.”

“that’s true, but you’re very talented. needed to at least acknowledge that.” he nods.

“i guess so! the last project did require a lot of late nights and hard work…” unbeknownst to yourself, you start to ramble about your process.

his perceptive nature looks over your features. he notes the way you hold yourself, fingers fiddling with the sleeves of your sweater–a pink one he’s always been able to identify you by. your eyes seem to travel when they hold contact with someone for too long. you purse your lips when you’re lost in thought. but when you’re comfortable, you use your hands to gesture, expressions surprisingly animated, which make you seem more animated than your usual reserved state.

noticing the way he stares at you, you quickly stop, feeling embarrassed.

“oh! i’m so sorry, i’ve been talking your ear off. you probably didn’t want to know all of that…i bet you’re busy anyways.” you say, bowing out of apology.

kuroo only shakes his head, “ah it’s not a problem at all! you’re truly mistaken! it’s nice listening to how you work. i don’t have a creative bone in my body, so it helps me to understand better. plus, you have a very nice voice.”

wide eyes blink up at him and another smile pops up on your face. you giggle, “thank you! you’re very kind!”

“no problem,” he steps back slightly, clearing his throat, “i know this is the first time we are really talking but…would you…like to get lunch sometime? to get to know each other better?”

you think about work and your connections. as a new employee this would be good for you, right? to build more healthy work relationships. the more people you can know, the better. especially across different departments.

a smile appears on your face and you nod. “why not? should we invite anyone else to join? i think—“

he laughs, shaking his head, “no sweetheart, just you and i.”

you’re stunned. “o-oh…”

“you can say no, i won’t be offended.” he assures.

panic resides in you and you frantically wave your hands. “it’s not that! i’d be more than happy to! i mean, i’ve been looking to get to know you better anyways!”

a hand flies to your mouth and your eyes widen once you realize what you just said.

“w-what i meant was…it’s better to get to know someone 1 on 1 anyways! yanno?” you correct, heart pounding out of your chest. you’re screwed. he’s going think you’re weird.

kuroo smirks, a small hum of appreciation escaping him as he nods, “right, of course. well, i’m glad to hear that. why don’t we exchange numbers ahead of time so we can talk details later?”

after typing each others numbers in, he notices you just entered your first name into his phone.

he softly says it out loud , and a weird, twisting feeling forms in your gut. a small part of you wishes he’d say it again.

“um…you can call me that if you want, but don’t feel pressured to.” you tell him. “i’m just not too big on formality.”

he shakes his head. “not a problem at all. it’s a very lovely name.”

“thanks, kuroo-san.” you beam.

“call me tetsurou. it’s only fair, right?” he winks, patting your shoulder. it shocks you how big his hand is, but you quickly peel your eyes away from it.

he steps back, pocketing his phone before looking at his watch. “well, i should be off now. but we’ll catch up later? i’d love to pick your brain about an upcoming idea.”

“s-sure!” you call, waving after him. “see you, tetsurou!”

he waves back, saying over his shoulder, “do me a favor, yeah?”

“what’s that?”

“remember it’s okay to be proud of your work. you worked hard, so own it.” he says, sending you a warm smile.

“right, i will!” you nod. your heart is full from his advice, and you cling onto his sentiment.

“‘tetsurou’, huh?” your coworker, kazuma, walks up besides you as soon as the rooster head is out of sight. “when did you start getting buddy buddy with the head to the promotion department?”

you raise a brow. “what do you mean? that’s the first time i’ve actually had a full conversation with him. i don’t know why i was so scared to! he’s a very nice guy!” you explain.

he laughs, nodding. “right, ‘nice guy’…”

you blink. “what? did he do something to someone?” you lean in, whispering, “did he like…beat someone up?”

kazuma rolls his eyes, sighing as he fixes his own coffee, “nothing of that sort. you’ll figure it out.”

before you can question him, he turns on his heel and leaves. you start after him, but he’s too fast for you so you give up.

“weird…” you mumble. you shrug before deciding as unfortunate as it is, you should get back to work.

throughout the entire duration of your walk back to your desk, you realize two things.

1, you left your coffee in the break room, and 2–

you notice that under the notes section of kuroo’s contact, he’s put, ‘prospective work husband’.

oh. shit.

that’s what it was.

kuroo was flirting with you the entire time.

reblogs and interactive appreciated!

[wayfayrr]

I've been on a little bit of a first kick recently - so here's a first meeting of reader and him based on this piece of the dolls au by @ovegakart (this amazing comic piece in particular) and on the topic of tagging people I've got some new friends on discord who have a love of first so consider this a gift <3 @fanfic-fairy-fountain @dreaming-of-lu @angry-trashcan @neverchecking <333 enjoy!

[masterlist]

“Hello..? Time… Sky… Link? Is anyone there?”

As if being forced into Hyrule wasn’t bad enough when I was with the chain, now that cursed shadow decides to push it even further by separating me from them? Why not just kill me outright… Is it to try to give the heroes hope? Wouldn’t it be worse for them for it to kill me outright than string them along with false hope?

“IS ANYONE HERE? HELLO??”

Where even am I? It looks like… Oh. Alone in catacombs, yeah if there’s anywhere to be killed by a malicious shadowy entity it would be in catacombs. Are there going to be redeads here?  If the rest of the monsters are anything to go off of it’s going to be much worse dealing with them now. They can’t handle sunlight though, can they? 

Then that means the pile of rubble in the centre here should be the safest place for me to think through the best way to handle all of this. If the shadow really wants to get to me then of course that won’t stop it but I have to try something right? Is sitting on top of what looks like a grave a little disrespectful? Yes. Do I have many options at the minute? No.

“-Wait-!”

WHY IS THE GRAVE SLIDING OPEN - WHAT WAS THAT!? WHY DOES IT SOUND LIKE SOMEONE IS YELLING?? 

“What… happened? Where is this place?”

I think without a doubt the sound I’ve just made is the most blood-curdling scream I’ve ever let out and - WHY IS HE COVERING MY MOUTH!?

“I’m sorry I know you’re confus- ACK.”

Was biting him the right option? Probably not! But it’s the only thing I could think of to do seeing as well, I'm not exactly calm at this moment in time. Despite the fact that this man has known me for, what, the span of less than a minute, he seems to have at the very least noticed my panic. Backing off like you would with a scared animal - do I really look that petrified? It’s taking everything in me now to not give into my racing heart. 

“I’m sorry, I must’ve overstepped your boundaries. But please can you not be so loud?”

“....”

“... yeah. Yeah I can be a bit quieter”

“So you uhhh-”

Where do I even start - this man just - He just crawled out of a grave. What do you even respond to that with??? 

“...You come round here often?”

[name]. [name] what the heck was that. That's how you flirt with someone at a bar not speak to a living corpse.

“No, I don’t really?”

“Yeah, I figured. I -”

“Are you alright?”

“Look I’m just a bit overwhelmed, I was separated from my group and dropped here then you- You crawled out of a grave and now I’m just?? I’m just stressed and this is only things that have happened today. Now I know that you’re probably more stressed for obvious reasons, but I’m just - I’m sorry for screaming.”

He took a step closer to me at that, not trying to be intimidating, but more cautious. Asking for permission to touch me with an invitingly open outstretched arm, one that seemed to promise some sort of salvation from all the stress I’ve been feeling. One that I was embarrassingly quick to accept. His touch - His hold, is so warm for someone who should really be so cold, there’s definite comfort in feeling his heart beating as well something that proves he’s alive. It didn’t last for long though, as he pulled himself away, reluctantly if I were being bold in how I was to describe it. His fingers lingered, resting on my arm in such a teasingly wanting way. He’s definitely a link thats for sure, that helps me to be more comfortable around him than I would have been with anyone else. He looks like he’s about to start crying.

I - oh god I’m the first person he’s seen since he came back to life. 

“Are you alright link?”

Was that the wrong thing to say? He hasn’t introduced himself to me,  I shouldn’t have said that. It seems like now it’s his turn to look confused - more so than he already was. 

“you how do you know my name?”

“I just guessed, the group I was with before they - well they all looked similar and went by the same name ‘link’ so I just assumed it was the same with you. I hope that doesn’t bother you.”

“No it doesn’t.” Why is he reaching for my face? He’s got such a soft look on his face, do I remind him of someone? He’s been dead so it could be possible I guess, but it feels like there’s more to how he said it than just something that simple. 

“Oh my dearest love...”

His hands are so soft… it’s hard not to just lean into his touch and stay there, but there are more important things to be dealing with right now. As much as I’d prefer to not have these questions answered. 

“What do you mean by that link? I don’t - I don’t think I’ve met you before.”

He’s so warm, I hate the fact that he’s most likely going to stop holding me when he realises I’m not the person he’s really ever going to want in a relationship. 

“You haven’t but, I can already tell that you’ll be my beloved soon enough.”

“I’m sorry? We’ve only just met how can you tell s- ACK”

This has to just be a link thing. What is it that makes them fall so quickly? But to hold someone so tightly when you've only just met them - when you’ve only just come back from death?  That doesn’t seem like a healthy thing for him, not in the slightest. 

Is my shoulder wet?

Why would it be wet - he was tearing up earlier and - no there it is he’s sniffling as if he’s trying his hardest not to cry. Even if he’s mildly delusional how cruel would you have to be to not help someone go through something as tough as this clearly is. It’s not hard to gently rub his back as he cries onto me, it’s not hard to hum to him as he clutches me like a lifeline, it’s not hard to be here for him when I have to do so little for him. 

“Link? Would you like to talk about it? I don’t know you but - but I’ll be here to listen to you.”

“Thank you. It’s simply that I - I don’t know why or how I got here, It’s simply that I woke up in there after everything then I saw you -”

“[name]”

“[name] and well you know what has happened since. I have to thank you for being here though, there’s something about you, some kind of energy that just feels like a part of myself that I lost. You feel like home to me [name]”

With that last sentence, he burrows his head even further into my neck seeking what I can only guess is comfort. He’s probably just desperate for another person's touch right now, rather than him having fallen in love with me from the briefest interaction that didn’t even go that well.   There’s no harm in waiting here with him for a moment though. What could go wrong in this amount of time?

[elliottkay]

Hi, I’m Elliott, and writing smut changed my life.

I also write military sci-fi and fantasy and D&D shitposts, but this is about the smut. I promise it won’t get weird. Much.

In 2010, I was scraping by as a substitute teacher and things were not great at home. I had only written gamer fic for friends, my aspiring mil sci-fi novel was stuck, and I needed some sort of escape… and I thought, “Well, I like sexy stories, and Literotica is free, and…”

My story was a feel-good adventure about a college guy with a heart of gold, a jaded demon weary of evil, and Heaven's hottest mess. It was silly. It was sexy. It was polyamorous, warm, and irreverent, and Literotica loved it: high ranking, tons of comments, and holy shit am I getting positive feedback from the internet?

So it became my first book:

…and that book plugged some holes in my life. It didn’t get me out of subbing, but it filled the financial gap, and it picked me up after a break-up. More importantly, it gave me an audience. When I published Poor Man’s Fight, I already had readers, and that led to more readers… many of whom then picked up Good Intentions and loved that, too, though some had the shocking experience of “Oh my god, it’s full of butts!”

If you’ve read this far, it’s probably time for the content warning. I’m a big believer in these, for serious reasons and, um… less serious.

WARNING: “Good Intentions” contains violence, explicit sex, nudity, inappropriate use of church property, portrayals of beings divine and demonic bearing little or no resemblance to established religion or mythology, trespassing, bad language, sacrilege, blasphemy, attempted murder, arguable murder, divinely mandated murder, justifiable murder, filthy murder, sexual promiscuity, kidnapping, attempted rape (which is never comedy), immolation of said attempted rapists, persistent disrespect for vampires (which is always comedy), arson, dead animals, desecrated graves, gang activity, theft, assault and battery, panties, misuse of the 911 system, fantasy depictions of sorcery and witchcraft, multiple references to various matters of fandom, questionable interrogation tactics, cell phone abuse, reckless driving, even more explicit sexuality, illegal use of firearms within city limits, polyamory, abuse of authority, hit and run driving, destruction of private property, underage drinking, disturbances of the peace, disorderly conduct, internet harassment, bearers of false witness, mayhem, dismemberment, falsification of records, tax evasion, bad study habits, and an uncomfortably sexy mother.

…and that’s just the first book.

They've all got those warnings. Even the short story collections.

Credit to the incredible @leemoyer for all my book covers, and for teaching me so much about this biz. And while he's not on the book covers, I've gotta share the other central protagonist as illustrated by the awesome @juliedillon:

...yeah, Alex gets into some shit.

If you're looking for protagonists who really communicate, if you want polyamory instead of love triangles, and if you hate when steamy scenes fade to black, I've got you covered.

If you’ve read this far and you’re interested, or even if you just want to see more content warnings, please give my stuff a look on Amazon (including Kindle Unlimited) or on Audible where they’re narrated by Tess Irondale. Give her a listen and you’d be happy to hear her read just about anything.

[bougiebutchbinch]

Seriously tho.

Did they have any physically disabled people in the writers room. Did they consult about the decision to kill off a character whose arc centred on accepting and understanding his disability and how it affected him. Did they consult about the choice to have Izzy say he wanted to die after his whole recovery and self-acceptance arc as a disabled queer man. Did they consult about the decision to use his fucking prosthetic leg as a grave marker rather than burying it with him. Did they know that the choices they were making would read as profoundly disrespectful to the disabled community. Or did they just not even consider it.

I want to know.

(as always, able-bodied people are welcome to reblog, but don't say a word unless it's in support)

[broken-glass-puppet]

Hihi! I hope your well!

Im not sure if you write for Graves, but if not you can just write the headcanons for Gaz instead!

Could you write some Graves (or Gaz) x male reader headcanons of just cuddling and sleeping together. Basically what sleepy time together is like!

No rush! And stay safe <3 -🦇

Grave + Gaz : sleeping and cuddling headcanons

Gaz

He loves physical touch

He really loves cuddling too

And he likes when you two sleep together and cuddle

He always says skin to skin cuddling is the best, he loves your body, not matter how big, small, thick, lean, skinny, chubby, fat or buff you are, you are always the little spoon

Normally he lays in bed and let's you use him as a pillow, but there are rare occasions where he will let you be the big spoon

He loves to bury his head in your chest, no matter if you have titties or not, he will squish your chest (with your consent of course)

He says the most incoherent shit when he's sleepy

Shit like "we can't disrespect the trees because then the lorax will break our kneecaps" or "did you know that snakes have two dicks?"

Is strange

But we love him

Graved

"cuddling is for girls"...

What do you mean why is he laying his head in your lap?! It was a hard day, okay?!

Believes the man should always be the big spoon

Obviously this is something hard because, there are two mens in the relationship, you and him

So he says he doesn't like being the little spoon

He's lying

He loves being vulnerable around you

He's submissive with you, even if he denies it

Pet his hair, he will melt

He likes partners with big chests

Not matter if they are titties or big pecs, he loves to bury his face in them

He will grope you a bit if you are comfortable

"this is a bit gay" "Hun, we have been dating for 2 years" "we have?!" And then he laughs and kisses you

[magicaldragons]

family dynamics.

– Varadha –

Varadha is a wildcat among rabid dogs. He is no less capable of violence or twisted games, but he operates from a completely different wavelength, which is his biggest strength.

Rudra is a typical bully. He is someone who, from childhood, has always teamed up against the minority in an effort to seem powerful, because he cares too much about perception and not enough about true value

so it makes sense, that he’d find validation in treating Varadha – a stepbrother who is so far removed from how people normally behave in Khansaar – condescendingly.

he is specifically envious of Varadha – most of the hate Rudra feels for Varadha stems from an insecure desire to elevate his own worth.

but Radha Rama?

why does she hate Varadha? – she's above Rudra's pettiness and definitely knows better than to waste her time and energy on power plays when she could work on herself.

but we know that she's hated Varadha since his birth – even more than Rudra does, in fact.

It must have started out as sibling rivalry, especially with how eager Radha Rama is for Rajamannar's approval. Varadha, ever since his birth, was probably a threat for that spot – was possibly even Rajamannar's favorite before he gave away his honor territory. and after that? the hatred only grew. We know that once Varadha lost his position as a lord, he was shunned from court, and he spent more time among the people of Khansaar than his family. and this gave him more exposure throughout Khansaar and definitely earned him a particular reputation for how level-headed, clever, and genuine he was.

it slowly became more and more obvious, (to Radha Rama especially) as Varadha grew older, that he inspired devotion in people – he had people that would die for him, and she could never understand how he'd done it, especially with how hard she'd worked to be seen as valuable.

so it frustrated her that Varadha, even with his inherent, deliberate softness, and the way he portrayed himself, was able to receive such love and warmth from the people who knew him personally, and that maybe played a part in how much more she worked for the approval of Khansaar's king:

Rajamannar.

Rajamannar is someone who definitely saw the soft power Varadha had for winning hearts, especially with his coexisting capability for exerting his own power.

It takes a diplomatic, yet terrifyingly strong man, to build and maintain an empire, and obviously, this is something that even Rajamannar was unable to do perfectly, with his need to annihilate an entire tribe to secure the throne for himself.

Shivamannar was the first and only to be capable of doing this, and Rajamannar sees that same strength, tenacity, and authenticity in Varadha. As a father, he was definitely proud of Varadha in the beginning and could see his capacity for greatness.

After Varadha disappointed him by giving away his kada, though, Rajamannar still cared for him and saw his potential, but could no longer publically support a son who had disregarded their honor & disrespected not only the territory but also Rajamannar's decision to put him in charge of that territory – especially since Varadha refused to tell him why he did it.

and now that Rajamannar, just like Radha Rama, has realized the extent of Varadha's quiet power, most of his pride has turned to wariness.

because as a father, he can be proud.

but as a king?

Varadha is a threat.

Which leads us to the fact that: Rajamannar, Rudra, and Radha Rama have been hostile to the one person who has the capacity and the qualities to rule, but wouldn't have actively sought out the throne if they hadn't placed him in a spot where the only way for him to attain respect and feel valued was to gain the throne.

Essentially, by treating him they way they have, in an effort to keep him away from court and in fear that he will surpass them, they've dug their own graves.

— love, a definition: part two [part one / part three]