#what is the solution? well i would say men should suck it up

[mazzystargirl]

i think the reason younger men are becoming more conservative IS because of feminism! like as much as we talk abt how the patriarchy harms men in the end structural misogyny is beneficial to them, because it puts the onus of all domestic labor on women and keeps them out of the public space entirely. it allows them to be provided with female companionship regardless of the value they bring to the table.

but the response to this shouldn’t be to say that women need to give up the small amount of power they have gained so that men will stop becoming more conservative or to like. raise the birth rate idk. which is where i think a lot of these journalistic analyses fail.

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR TWENTY ONE

in which you try everything you can to make eddie feel better after his encounter with chrissy - to make him forget, to make him feel cherished, to make him feel worthy.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, a single use of Y/N, smut (p in v), oral (m receiving), voyeurism, edging, good old fashioned ball worship if you squint, maybe some sub!eddie if you squint even harder, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 7.3k+

→ a/n: shout out to @hellfire--cult for the balcony idea. i knew i'd get them there at some point, little freaks. and everyone say thank you to @icallhimjoey for the early post 😏

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

21:00 ─────────────ㅇ── 24:00

HOUR TWENTY ONE - 12:00 PM

STEVE-O: why do you guys suck so much at providing photographic proof of being alive? seriously

You’ve been staring at Steve’s text ever since the two of you arrived back at the apartment. You’d reply soon enough, but for now, the message was a distraction.

Eddie wasn’t speaking to you.

Not in a brooding sense, but in a way that let you know he was too far gone in his own head right now for you to reach him. When you’d said those words to him, when you’d admitted that you found him worth it, you saw his eyes glaze over slowly. You’d watched in real time as he slipped away from you. It might be that he doesn’t believe you, it might be guilt that continues to gnaw at him for a past that can’t be changed — whatever it is, you hate it.

The easy solution would be to send Steve the photos from the cafe, but you’d already tried that. Your thumb had hovered over that photo of Eddie with a mouthful of croissant, still bright and brilliant before all his waves of self-hatred had gotten ahold of him, and you just couldn’t. It was selfish, it was ridiculous, but you couldn’t share that piece of him with others. Some small, childish, hopeless bit of you needed to cling to the man in that photo and keep him safely inside your chest. It wasn’t a new version to your friends, they’ve always tried to defend Eddie and convince you he wasn’t all bad, but it was new to you. It was all so unexpected and unforeseen, the look behind his golden eyes as he seemingly looked right past the camera and right into you. 

No, you couldn’t send that photo. It was for your eyes only. A souvenir you had greedily stolen. 

Eddie had excused himself to the bathroom when you two arrived at the apartment, and this time, there was no dirty intentions behind it. You left well enough alone — he needed a moment to be by himself and that was fine. You could entertain yourself until he was ready to come back to you, back down to Earth. Right now, you were currently picking apart an almond croissant as if it were the most interesting thing you’d ever laid eyes on. 

Croissant dissection — see? You absolutely could distract yourself in order to give him space. Absolutely no sarcasm there.

You finally sigh when you see a message bubble pop up with three little dots, signifying Steve is typing again. You don’t give him the time to properly finish out his message before you click on your camera icon, snap a shot of the picked apart croissant in front of you, and send a message with the image attached.

YOU: we were eating breakfast, eddie’s been in the bathroom. happy, mom?

STEVE-O: he’s been in the bathroom for an entire hour? 

YOU: oh, you know how you men get with toilet time. 

Despite the playful tone of your texts, your face is completely flat, chest still heavy as you think about Eddie behind the wooden door. Should you be giving Eddie this amount of space? What if it’s doing more damage than good?

You’re about to stand from the stool you’ve occupied for nearly ten minutes now and go try your hand at knocking, try and remind Eddie that you’re still here, when Steve’s next text comes through. 

STEVE-O: stop bullshitting me. what happened? 

You swear you taste metallic blood from how hard you bite down on your bottom lip, staring at the mocking message. You can’t even begin to explain to Steve what has transpired, not just this last hour, but the entirety of the time. The parking garage, the joking marriage, Chrissy showing up, Eddie’s painful vulnerability – you can’t find the words to tell him about any of it. The same as you can’t find it in you to send the photo of Eddie in Betty’s. 

YOU: nothing happened. do you need any more proof than that?

He only reacts to your message with a thumbs up. You assume that means you’re in the clear, for now. 

When you exit your thread of messages with Steve, a new thread that has been started catches your eye. It’s a new number, no contact on it. The only message sent is from you – the photo of you with your coffee, head thrown back and eyes shut with a wide smile boosting your cheeks. 

Eddie’s phone number. 

You look at the photo of yourself for a while, trying to not cringe at your appearance. To you, you just looked ridiculous. You don’t understand why Eddie wanted this photo preserved so badly. Your smile is too wide, your eyes are mere slits from the way your cheeks were squishing up with joy, most of your makeup you’d started the night with has long since faded due to a multitude of activities. You don’t feel like anything special in this photo.

But Eddie had wanted it. He had deemed this moment in time of you as picture-worthy, had gone so far as to send it to himself so that he’d have this memory even if you deleted it from your phone. 

Before you think too hard on it, you tap on that line of numbers and add a proper contact profile to it. 

EDDIE. You keep the contact name simple, eager to get it out of the way as you move onto the next step. A contact photo. You don’t even have to ponder on it – in a flash, you’ve selected the picture of him with the croissant. 

You’re back on the thread of messages – or, at least, the singular message – and don’t stop yourself as your thumbs begin to fly over your keyboard.

YOU: why were the almond croissants almost sold out? 

To be fair, you didn’t even know if Eddie had his phone on him. That green message stares back at you for a few moments before you get your answer. 

EDDIE: Excuse me? 

He has his phone. You lift your head, looking at the closed door of the bathroom before glancing back down at your phone. 

YOU: because everyone went NUTS over them. 

You perk your ears and listen for any sign of life from down the hall. Anything. A scoff, a pitiful laugh, him calling you stupid aloud. You’ll take whatever he offers. 

It takes a moment, and you truly have to strain to hear it, but you can hear the laugh that would better pass as a sigh. 

EDDIE: Is that supposed to be a joke? 

YOU: ‘supposed to be’. excuse me, it was definitely a joke. and a very good one, at that. 

EDDIE: Debatable. 

You find yourself smiling down at the phone. Your neck aches from the way you keep glancing up suddenly at the door, silently pleading for him to come back out. To come out and fight with you, come out and bicker with you, come out and ignore you. Anything, for him to leave the bathroom and do anything but keep that door shut between you two. 

He doesn’t, so you send another bad joke. 

YOU: what did the customer say when they looked at the croissant? 

This time, he plays along. 

EDDIE: I don't know, what? 

YOU: what a BREADtaking sight. 

This time, you hear a more proper scoff come from within the bathroom. 

YOU: i heard that. don’t even try to tell me it wasn’t funny. 

EDDIE: I’m not laughing because they’re funny. I’m laughing because they’re BAD. 

YOU: bet you wouldn’t say that to my face. 

Immediately, you discard the phone, facedown on the counter as you look up to the door with unbridled hope. He could always ignore the comment, choose to not respond and continue to sulk away from you. It’s entirely possible – but you pray to every star in the sky that that isn’t what he’s going to do. 

Please come back out. Please, even if just to sit in silence with me. 

Your prayers are answered.

Slowly, painfully slowly, you hear shuffling on the other side of the door and await for the click of the door unlocking. It never comes, though – the door was never locked in the first place. He opens it, and you realize that the entire time, you could have stormed into the small room with him and demanded that he not hide away.

But you didn’t. You gave him space, gave him patience, and it’s clear he knows this as he comes out. 

His eyes are red. As if he’s been crying. 

“Hi,” you meekly say, taking in his face past those red-rimmed eyes. The tip of his nose is a fading shade of pink, as if he’s been rubbing it incessantly, and he sniffs for good measure as he turns the bathroom light off and walks to where you are. 

“Hi,” his voice is rough around the edges as he greets you back. He won’t look you in the eye once he’s within reach – his gaze remains downcast, and you catch him fiddling with a few of his rings. 

You hadn’t considered what you would do if you got this far. In every carefully considered scenario, you’d assumed he’d shut you out. You never expected him to come straight to you, as if seeking out comfort from you, without you having to beg it of him. 

His eyes catch the croissants on the counter, torn apart and lazily picked at. He’s about to open his mouth and say something about it, probably questioning what you had done to the poor pastry, but you don’t give him a chance. You’re quick to snatch up one of the pieces you’d been picking apart to snack on for yourself and hold it out to him. An olive branch, an offering – a reason for him to sit and stay for a while with you. 

He takes it tentatively, finally looking you in your eye again as he takes a small bite. It’s nothing compared to the bite he had taken when you’d snapped the photo of him, mere crumbs compared to that mouthful. 

“Did you just… massacre our croissants?” he questions, squinting his eyes down at the crime scene. 

You shift your body jokingly, failing at blocking him from seeing the mess you made, “Absolutely not. I have no clue what you’re talking about.” 

He almost cracks a grin, “Right. Of course. I must be imagining things.” 

“Wanna hear another pun?” you blurt out, suddenly nervous as he continues to stand before you. You hate the incessant need inside of your chest that calls for you to comfort him, to make this all better for him. 

“I feel like you’ll tell me one even if I say no,” he raises an eyebrow at you, “So, sure.” 

“Why did the croissant go to the doctor?”

He hums, trying to peer over your shoulder again at the croissants you were badly hiding, “Let me guess. Is it because you tore it apart mercilessly?” 

“No,” you scoff, reaching behind you to grab another piece to offer to him as well as one of your own, “It was because he was feeling crummy, dumb ass.” 

A crack of a smile. It’s miniscule but there. It makes that terrible pun worth it, just to see him not looking quite as defeated is worth all the stars in the sky at this point for you. 

You’d certainly been the reason for his unhappiness in the past, and you surely would be again at some point. It all feels so inevitable; just as he believes that he can only bring you misery, you can’t imagine yourself bringing him joy. A belief that strikes something in your chest, something albeit more painful than you’d care to admit, but it’s true. You’ve crossed a line, you’ve changed everything, but the past still remains. 

You aren’t perfect. Neither is Eddie.

Heartbreak is imminent, but for this brief moment, you can make him smile. You don’t need to worry about the next time you’ll piss him off or upset him, you just need to focus on making that twitch on his lips more permanent. 

“I meant what I said earlier, by the way,” you decide to rip off the bandaid as he moves as if to sit beside you. Quickly, your words make him freeze. A bad sign, but you push through, because he needs to hear these things, “You deserve good things, Eddie. Good people, good things- you just… you deserve those things in your life.” 

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

He’s turning away from you. Turning and heading to the living room, walking away from you.

You don’t let him. In an instant, you get onto your feet and follow him, continuing despite him acting as if he’s finished with the conversation. You’re not.

“You’re a good person, Eddie,” you insist, reaching out for him before he makes it to the couch, “Don’t walk away from me.”

He spins easily in your grip. “Just because you say something, doesn’t make it true, sweetheart.”

He’s back to saying it like a curse. Like it’s a harmful title. As if it’s not a privilege to you and all your metaphors to hear that nickname fall from his lips. 

Right before your eyes, his defenses are on the rise. Brick by brick, he’s slowly reforming those walls to separate the two of you. Instead of defeat, instead of acceptance, it just makes you angry.

“Stop doing that,” you say quietly, carefully, firmly.

“Stop doing what?”

“That. Pushing me away. Locking me out,”  you tighten your hand on his bicep and watch the way his nostrils flare, “I fucking hate it.”

“Despite what you believe,” he takes a step closer to you, “Not everything I do is meant to piss you off.” 

“That’s not what I’m saying, and we both know it,” you can feel his muscles tense beneath your touch.

This time, his smile that emerges is cold. But you can still see the rubbage left by his tears — pink water lines and a new puffiness around his eyes. His words and his sudden cool demeanor can’t hurt you when you see it for what it is.

“Clearly we both don’t know it,” he chastised you, “We are very rarely on the same page. This isn’t a damn exception. You don’t have to prove your point, it doesn’t matter.”

He’s a wounded animal, striking out. He’s letting Chrissy’s words get to him.

“You’re worth i-“

“Don’t,” One of his hands shoot out to grip your waist, “Don’t fucking say that. Please. Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.” 

He didn’t believe you. 

“I meant it,” you whisper, anger shaking out of your grasp inch by inch as you realize that your words can’t break through to him, “I mean it. You’re worth it, to me, to St-“

“This isn’t about Steve,” he cuts you off, “It’s not about Steve, or Nancy, or Robin, or fucking Argyle. No need to play dumb anymore.” 

It’s about you.

You both know it. For once, contradictory to what he’d just claimed, you’re both on the same page. And like he said, no need to play dumb. 

“You’re worth it to me,” you say it with more confidence this time, “You’re a good person to me.” 

“How can you say that?” he laughs out, void of amusement, “How can you say shit like that after everything we’ve been through?”

How can you not?

You only squeeze his bicep tighter, and he returns the action by gripping your hip harsher. “Because I mean it. I believe it. Whether you do or not.” 

For a moment, the cracks in his armor expose themselves. 

“You shouldn’t,” his voice should waver, “You shouldn’t believe those things, Y/N. You should hate me.” 

“But I don’t,” And I never did.

“But you don’t,” he echoes.

You’ve done the opposite of what you had wanted. His smile is gone, that sadness creeping back up. You hate that. You don’t hate him — you hate that world of mourning behind his eyes, that defeat that brings his shoulders down and makes his grip on you falter. So you do the only thing you can think of to distract him. Make him forget.

“Make me hate you.” 

His eyes widen briefly, “Excuse me?”

“Make me hate you,” you practically beg of him, “Show me why you’re such a bad person and I’ll let this go. I’ll drop the conversation, we can- Fuck, we can forget this entire morning happened. Make me hate you, Eddie, and I’ll stop reminding you that I don’t.” 

His fingers curl back into you, slowly and gently, as his brows furrow. He’s considering what you’ve just said — more than that, you can see him trying to untangle all the hidden meanings behind it.

“And how do you suggest I do that?” his voice is low and calculated. 

You shrug, stepping forward, letting your lips get even closer to his, “Not my problem. Just make me.” 

The fingers are no longer gentle as he pulls you into him, finally catching onto the emphasis you place on those two little words.

Make me.

When his lips meet yours, they’re rough and brutal, taking greedily what they want from you. The only thing on your mind is making him forget. Make him forget, carry the load for him — they’re both more important than making him smile for now. Both these driving needs burn brighter in your chest because it’s clear that’s what he needs. 

You’re willing to give him whatever he needs right now.

“You want me to make you hate me, baby?” he mumbled against your lip, practically drinking in the way you gasp as he starts to pull back, “Is that really what you want?”

It’s what you want. “Yes.” 

And maybe you do too, when he leans back in to bite your lip. There will be another time for you to convince him with words that you find him to be worth it. Both hands from wrap around you and rough start to guide you back towards that fucking couch.

“Not the couch,” you suddenly protest, digging your heels into the carpet at the center of his living room, “Anywhere but the couch.” 

And oh, the way he’s looking at you in that moment might be your new favorite thing. Your new favorite color is his eyes as they sparkle with a bit of life that had been missing since the coffee shops encounter. Your new favorite sound is the silence that encases the little breath he lets out. Your new favorite movie is watching him move in slow motion as his eyes dart behind you, towards the door to his balcony, before his lips finally curl up with a hint of the genuine warmth that had been hidden behind his walls.

“Anywhere?” he teases, beginning to walk you backwards.

You nod, grinning right back at him.

“I think I have an idea.” 

If you had known twenty one hours ago that Eddie Munson, your sworn enemy, would have you out on his public balcony and on your knees for him in only a matter of time, past you would have….

Well, you don’t really care what past you would have done or thought anymore. You’re making him forget, yes, all while making yourself forget. You don’t care what you, twenty one hours ago, would or wouldn’t do as you let the past slip through your fingers so eagerly. All you can focus on is the dig of concrete against your knees, the way Eddie’s hands grip the railing as he leans against it, and the way the early afternoon sun forms a halo around him as you look up through fluttering lashes.

You just want to make him feel good. Every action is intentional, doing everything in your power to erase whatever storming thoughts had been haunting him so cruelly since Chrissy had so carelessly said what she had. You want to make him feel worthy. You want to make him feel loved.

Loved. You certainly didn’t love him — you couldn’t possibly, could you? He wouldn’t let you. You wouldn’t let yourself. But for now, you could play pretend; you could worship his body, drag his shirt out of the way and place playful kisses across his hips, and you could pretend that only this moment exists. 

“You wanna know what makes me such a bad person?” he sighs out as you let your teeth graze his skin, shoulders rolling to shake off that shiver you elicit from him, “This. The fact that this is all I can fucking think about.”

“Hm,” you can only hum in response, nails taking over the denim of the jeans he currently wore. You walk your fingers up his thighs, moving closer and closer to his zipper. Your mouth is nearly watering at the prospect of worshiping him. 

And the fact that any neighbor could walk out at any given moment and catch the two of you. You should probably insist on it being fast, on him being quiet, but the thought sends a thrill through the pit of your stomach. Your thighs clench and your cunt aches at the thought of being caught. 

You want to do more than make him bite back mere moans of your name. You want to make him scream.

Suddenly, a hand tangles into the roots of your hair, pulling back and making you focus on him again.

“Eyes on me,” he instructs. Once you focus on him and only him, he continues, loosening his grip and letting those fingertips rub at your scalp soothingly, “You know why you should hate me? For all the nights I pictured this.”

“Yeah?” you smile innocently, playing along. He can talk all he wants, you know once you get your mouth on him, he’ll be lucky to remember his own name. “How many nights, hm? Tell me all about them, pretty boy.”

You catch the wobble in his knees, the way his breathing picks up, the brilliant shade of ivory his knuckles stretch to. You lean back on your haunches, and the hand in your hair slips as he glowers down at you. 

“What are you-”

“Take off your shirt,” you calmly command.

“Excuse me?” 

“Your shirt. I want it off.”

His hand that was once tangled against your scalp now comes down to your face, movement slow but not hesitant as he pinches your chin. His thumb tugs on your bottom lip, and you let out, even making a show of letting your tongue peek out to tap at it. “And who said you were calling the shots?” 

“I did,” you put it simply, completely removing your hands from him now, “Take off the shirt, or I’ll leave you out here with blue balls.” 

You close your lips around the end of his thumb and his knuckles dig in deeper to the skin below your chin as you suck subtly. He chuckles, but you can hear just how breathless he goes at the small action, even as he keeps up the act with a hard press of his thumb on your lower lip. Your mouth hangs open for him, waiting patiently for his next move. 

A game of chess, an exchange of power, a fight for dominance. All the lines of who is and isn’t in control are blurred. 

“Have you always been so mean, baby?” he taunts, trailing what spit you’d left behind on his thumb along your lip. 

His movement stops when your lips spread into a provocative smile, “I learned from the best, didn’t I?” 

The retort had potential to backfire. You wait for smoke and glory, for him to pull away from you further. He’d slam down a brick right in front of your face, lay the mortar to leave you high and dry. He’d push you away, and you’d have to retreat, tail tucked between your legs in the shame of trying when it came to him. 

No smoke, no glory. He secedes, but makes no move to add to his walls, only removing his hand from your face and taking off the shirt. Just as you had told him to. 

“Better?” he asks as he makes a show of tossing the shirt to the other side of the balcony. It could have even flown over the railing, for all you paid attention to the scrap of clothing. Maybe some innocent bystander is on the streets below, confused to all Hell as to why it’s raining obscure band t-shirts. 

You’re just a bit too distracted to consider that right now. 

With Eddie’s torso revealed, all words seem to evade you. You catch the sweat beginning to gather across his sternum, watching the way he’s flushing beneath your gaze, reveling in the pink chest exposed to you as the blush crawls wider. Instantly, your original purpose is forgotten, the primal urge to pepper kisses and bites alike across his skin almost lifting you up off your sore knees. You want to leave bruises – you want to make him scream, you want to mark him up, you want to make him feel worthy. 

You stay on your knees, but compromise with all your wants as you lift up and stretch a bit. Your lips start their trail a bit lower than you (or Eddie) would have liked, taking their time to get familiar with the spanse of his rib cage first. You don’t nip with teeth, not yet. Just chaste kisses, lining each bone you can hardly feel residing beneath the skin, feeling his lungs expanding against your affection. Your tongue swipes alongside one of his side tattoos, a large and detailed dragon you hadn’t paid much mind to before. Every time you’d seen him shirtless, you’d been a bit distracted.

Not now. Now, you’re focused, determined to learn every curve and dip there is to explore on Eddie. You want to know him better than the back of your hands, memorize him more intricately than your own palms. After all, in order to worship a deity, you must know them. 

You return back to the center line of his abdomen, kisses chasing after one another, even taking the time to suck his skin between your teeth but never bite down. You pause once your lips rest right beneath his navel, the tip of your nose brushing that rough patch of hair that leads down to your end destination. Your hands reach for his belt, toying with the buckle.

Through heavy lashes, you look up at him, staring down at you in awe, “You know, you’re not doing a very good job at making me hate you, pretty boy. Think I might just have to worship you instead.”

A deity of your own making. A deity for your own taking. 

With skill, your hands undo the buckle effortlessly. You unbutton and unzip his jeans as if you’ve done this part a million times, as if you’d spent every single Sunday of the last year right here and doing exactly this. On your knees, worshiping him. This balcony, for all its exposure, certainly knows how to serve as a holy place. 

He opens his mouth to respond, but you’re impatient. You still haven’t left him speechless, meaning you still hadn’t made your point, clearly. 

His jeans hang loosely as they creep down his thighs, abandoned for a moment as you occupy your mouth against his hips. The hips you once thought would look so pretty properly decorated. You decide you were wrong – they don’t need ink burying into the skin, they need your teeth digging in. 

You cover that skin with mirroring images of bursts of purple and pink, flowering bruises that you take your time to mark onto him. With each suck and bite, Eddie rolls his hips into you, head leaned back and throat straining with each moan he swallows down. 

With the last hickey finished, you finally lean back, proud of your masterpiece as Eddie whimpers above you. Blooms in the shape of your lips mingle with faint and quickly fading teeth marks. 

“Fuck,” he gasps out when your fingertip stops trailing over your markings and comes down to apply the softest pressure over the straining bulge in his boxers. 

“What was it that you said earlier?” your finger traces over where you know a vein is – you know it because you’ve felt it, been driven insane by it – before circling around the wet patch now forming. He’s desperate, hips bucking again and a moan finally escaping. You think he’s bitten his lips hard enough in an attempt at self-restraint that they might be bleeding, “You said I’m not calling the shots, right?” 

“You’re not,” he pathetically grits out, hands forming tighter fists on metal railing, as if the moment he lets go of it they’ll find their way home to you. 

You lean forward, breath washing over his crotch before you place a feathery kiss to his clothed tip, “I’m not?” 

You are. You both know you are. A constant battle of control, an ever-growing fight for dominance. 

He lets out something crossed between a sigh of relief and a whine of protest when you remove your lips and hand from him completely, only to let out a sharp yelp when your finger curls into the waistband of his boxers and pulls back the elastic, letting it snap back into place sharply. 

“Say I am,” you barter, “Say I’m in control right now, and I’ll put my money where my mouth is.” 

You don’t expect him to break so easily. You’ve underestimated just how tightly you’ve caught him beneath your thumb.

“You’re in control,” he gasps out, head hanging low to meet your gaze fully, “You’re in complete and utter fucking control of me. You’re calling all the shots, baby. You always are.” 

He didn’t have to sweeten it up with baby, but it spurs you on. 

You shove his boxers down, watching his cock spring out for the taking. And you do as you promised; you put your money where your mouth is.

You start softly, taking your time as you gingerly suck on his pretty pink tip as you had his thumb. Hardly hollowing your cheeks, letting your tongue circle his slit to gather up the precum. You let the taste of him completely cover your tongue, even hum in satisfaction when he lets out a loud groan. It motivates you, feeds your fervor as you let his tip fall from your mouth and trail the tip of your tongue down the underside of his cock. That vein you’d traced with your fingertip, yours for the taking, covered in a faint line of saliva as you let it rest on your forehead and graze your lips against his ballsack. 

He can’t hide his shiver, even as his fist flies to his mouth to bite down on. 

“Have I ever told you how cute you are?” you say low enough for just him. You can hear the sounds of traffic, a dog barking, birds singing — all reminders of the outside world and the looming threat of being caught. Warmth floods you again at the reminder of that threat, thighs clenching closer together in a desperate search of friction, “Just falling apart for me, acting so tough for so long until I got you alone.” 

He whimpers your name. It’s the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard.

You wrap your lips around the sensitive skin, sucking and pecking away on one side before moving to the next. His reaction throttles your movements. When his hand loses the fight of resistance, coming down to the back of your head, you laugh breathlessly against the now wet skin. 

“Let me make you feel just how worthy you are to me,” you praise, pulling back finally, letting your nose brush against his sack as you do so. The hand that was once merely resting now tangles up in your hair — a warning. 

You let the velvet skin of his cock drag down your cheek as each movement is deliberate, taking your time and in no rush. You want to savor him like this. Imprint him to memory. 

You want to make him forget while making yourself remember. 

You want to remember the way his hand flexes at the base of your skull when you finally kiss his tip once more, remember the way his abdomen tenses as you sink him further into your mouth. You want to remember every little sound that escapes him as he hits the back of your throat, as you constrict around him, as you moan around his base and the vibrations have him slipping out of control. 

Your nails dig into his thighs to balance yourself, eyes watering as you look up at him. One subtle nod. He doesn’t need more than that.

Your jaw goes slack, trying to steady your breathing through your nose as you let him take control. His hips thrust at their own pace, gentle enough that he only grazes the back of your throat rather than bruise it. The issue is you want him to bruise it. You want him to mark you from the inside out. Until there’s no part of you left untouched by him. 

You gag again, and he slows. Your fingers that grip his thighs immediately tap against him, and he mistakes it as a signal to pull back completely before you chase after him, pressing him onto your tongue until your lips are snug around his cock a mere inch from the base. Your nose is grazing those pubes in the dead center of all your love marks. Shapes of semi-permanent scars that whisper, you’re worth it to me. I want this. I want you. 

The last thing on his mind was Chrissy Cunningham and her words alluding to him not being worth it. 

You make sure of it when you finally release him from your mouth and begin to pump with an eager fist, ducking down and returning to pay attention to his balls once more. You nuzzle the soft skin, let the tips of your canines graze them before you suck them onto your tongue as you’d done his cock. He’s no longer containing his moans – they flow freely along with curse words, chants of your name, sounds you’d love to capture and play on repeat until the end of your days. 

“Oh my God,” he groans out particularly loudly, “Fuck, baby. J-Just like that, please- Fuck. You’re doing so good for me. Such a good girl, just for me.” 

Your hand is still wrapped around him, slowly coming up to squeeze hard around the tip as you whisper up to him, “Only for you.” 

“Yeah? Only for me?” 

You don’t know how to explain to him that it’s true: you’re only ever that mean for him, you’re only ever this eager for him, you’re only ever this desperate for him. 

You don’t answer him with words. There are none. Instead, you take him back in your mouth, and you solely focus on bringing your deity to climax. The man you were worshiping, the man who was worth the ache in your knees that surely told you they would be left bruised, if not skinned. 

“Is it just like you imagined?” you question as you break your lips off him. He’s close, leaking precum excessively and entire body taut, “Was it worth it? To picture this, to want this so badly?” 

He almost can’t answer you, but somehow manages between pants, “It was. It is. You’re- fuck, you’re worth it.” 

“Good,” you drop your hand from him, leaving him right on the edge as you rest both sticky palms on the tops of your thighs. You look up at him with relinquished control – the perfect image of submission, for him. “Then you get it. When I say you’re worth it, you get it.” 

He’s clearly still reeling from you bringing him so close only to leave him hanging, teetering on a cliff as he stares you down. 

His chest heaves as he questions, “What was it you wanted me to do earlier?” A deceiving hand comes down, tucking any baby hairs behind your ear and cradling the side of your face. One moment, his thumb is stroking a soft arch beneath your eye, the next that hand is pulling you up, “Make you?”

You know that if you hadn’t been so eager to follow his touch, you’d still be on your knees. Even as you watch him take the reins, you know you will always call the shots – just like he had said. 

“You really think you can make me hate you?” you whisper once you’re standing tall in front of him, leaning your cheek into his touch.

“I shouldn’t have to make you hate me,” he corrects, the thumb back to gentle strokes, loosening the touch to be more tender once again, “You should already hate me.” 

“Why?” 

He flips positions immediately, your lower back now curving into the railing as he presses himself up against you, his achingly hard cock between your bodies, “Because of this. Because I always want you on your knees for me. Because of all the fucking filth I want to do to you. I want to bend you over, right here, and take you where anyone could see. I want to have you screaming my name loud enough that every single person on the streets of this city hears you.”

With each word, a knot ties inside of you, desperate for release. 

“Because you’re fucking right,” he leans down, lips going straight for your neck, not looking you in the eyes, “All it fucking took was for you to get me alone for one night, and now? I’ll never get enough of you, I’ll never get clean of you,” he takes a deep breath, and suddenly, his lips latch onto you, sucking the skin between his teeth and biting hard. You can’t stop your fingers from latching onto his curls, tugging hard, body rolling into his. It hurts, it stings, you need more, “Everything changes. And that includes me.” 

His face finally leaves the crook of your neck, pulling back to look you in your eyes. Doe brown eyes search yours, wide and honest and pleading. You let everything else melt away; for a moment, it’s only him and only you. The tension, the last twenty one hours, the last year — you let it disintegrate and focus on him.

It never mattered if everything changed. 

It only matters that he’s changed, irreversibly, and so are you.

“How can I hate you for those things?” you press into him again, this time less desperate and more consciously, “Do it.” 

“Do what?”

“All of it,” you trail a hand up his chest, “Every single thing you just said. Fucking- Do them. Bend me over, make me scream, change me,” your voice breaks, shaking with anticipation and need. 

It’s all the encouragement he needs.

Every single thing he wanted, he craved, he does. A flurry of him properly discarding his jeans as he unbuttons yours to shove them down, spinning you and shoving you hard enough into the railing that it digs into your abdomen and leaves you breathless. You’re hardly aware of the way you step out of your pants and kick them to the side, looking out to the city skyline but not seeing it. It’s all a blur as you focus on the way your shirt rides up and he grabs your hips, bruising you finally as you have desperately needed. 

You wanted to be left haunted by the end of these last few hours. You wanted to see him every time you looked in the mirror for the next week, to remember the map of where his body molded to yours. You want to dream of the way he stretches you as your underwear is ripped to the side. You want to be followed by the sounds of his skin slapping against yours as he snaps forward with intention.

Changing you. He has no idea that he’s already ripped you open from the inside out, has already rewired your entire chest and set flames to your brain. 

Everything changes, and sometimes, everything is only two people. Just you. Just him. New versions that would have never met had it not been for this stupid fucking bet.

“Eddie,” you nearly sob, nearly choke on, his name burning in your throat like kindling embers. 

His hand walks up your spine, trailing wildfire even with a layer of cotton between you two. Burning and singing away all you’d assumed for far too long. When he reaches the nape of your neck, he takes care in wrapping your hair around his wrist, tugging back hard and forcing you to stand from where the railing had been bending you in two.

“Say it again,” his lips brush you ear with every gasping breathing, timing with the way his cock is sliding in and out of your warmth, “Say it louder.” 

“Fu-“ you start to moan, cut off by him pulling even harder on your hair, making his point so that you cry out, “Eddie!” 

He thrusts harder. You swear you could feel him in your throat. 

“Scream for me, baby,” an arm wraps around your torso, firm and solid for you to cling to rather than the warming metal of the railing, “Tell them who’s making you feel so good. Let them know. Be a good girl.”

Even when he claims to have control, it’s your actions, your reactions, that call the shots.

It’s the echo of your voice that spurs him on as you chant his name over and over, as if he were your only God. Primal worship dripping from every syllable. It’s the tremble in your thighs that has him pressing deeper into you, chest glued to your back as if he could never get you close enough. It’s the clench of your cunt around him, a vice that sucks him in as you drag him closer to the high he’s been dizzily chasing since you first dropped to your knees in front of him. 

It’s you. You’ve changed him, as he’s changed you.

He pulls your hair until you rest the back of your head against his shoulder, back arching and feet still spread as he only maintains his quick and brutal pace, leaning down to whisper in your ear one last time.

“You know the real reason why you should hate me?” he grits out between to particularly forceful thrusts, “It’s not just because I don’t deserve you. It’s because I’ve wanted you for so long,” you’re right on the edge, fluttering around his cock as his movements stutter. A tell tale sign. “I- fuck, fuck. It’s- God, I’ve loved you for so long, and I’ll never be fucking worthy.” 

You shatter around him in waves. Your entire body tenses as the words dig claws into you, piercing through vines and blooms. His body stills, warmth flooding you deep within as you continue to see stars. You can’t make a single sound, fingerprints surely left behind on where you clasp onto his forearm. 

I’ve loved you for so long, and I’ll never be fucking worthy.

When the waves recede, when the high has passed its peak, you both freeze. Your body tensed in his hold, struggling to process what he’d just said. 

Loved you. 

He’s frozen in place, scrambling to figure out how to undo the damage just done. 

I’ve loved you for so long.

He slips out of you, his spent dripping down your thighs. His forearm drops from you. Your hands don’t even try to stop him.

I’ll never be fucking worthy.

You should be worried of neighbors coming out to see the two of you on his balcony. If not worried, you should be embarrassed, or aching at the thought once again. Anything. You should feel something.

You turn slowly to him, entirely numb as you catch his rueful expression.

Loved you. He loved you.

His regret turns to pain as you whisper, “What did you just say?”

taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @blushingquincy @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @big-ope-vibes @jadequeen88 @sylviin @emma77645 @notbeforelong @lolalanaie @lo-siento-ama @happy-and-alone @micheledawn1975 @aysheashea @moon-huny @munsonswrld @bambipowerblueaddition @averagestudent03 @bakugouswh0r3 @mattefic @mxcheese @bietchz @nativity-in-black @stezzil @vngelis @coley0823 @folklorebau @luvmunson86 @theherothesavior @keene200213 @hargrovesswifee @m-chmcl-rmnc @cherrymedicine13 @iunaelumen777

taglist is now closed.

[unreadpoppy]

bg3, infographics, mysogyny and you

Preface: this is a long ass post that I wrote some many weeks ago, and that because of some stuff I've seen, I'm compelled to finally post it. It's very like a spurn of the moment thing, not extremely well thoght out but I still think it's relevant.

.

Recently, a few people have posted some, in my opinion, really insightful infographics showing the difference in content to how many works (in AO3) there are to the female characters vs the male characters of BG3 and I've been thinking about how it relates to fandom in general, but also...everything.

As a quick rundown, what happens is: almost all of the female characters have a lot less content when compared to their male counterparts (at least writing wise). And I think this is a great moment to stop and think on why is that.

There's a lot of point to begin with but I want to begin with something larger and that is the society most of us are raised in. Obviously, I can't speak for everyone, but I think it's fair to say that most people grew up in places that had its fair share of sexism and give it or take, that does shape how we view the world.

I'll speak from my own experience. Even thought I had a mostly liberal upbriging, I went to a very conservative school and when I was growing up, I saw a lot of videos on youtube that anaylized media in what i can only describe as "god forbid women do anything". Video after video, I saw people commenting on how x female character was a mary sue, how she made no sense and ruined the plot, so many video essays on the """strong female character trope"""" that would end up just enforcing gender roles again. And I'll be honest, this DID affect how viewed female characters.

The best example I can give of this is with bg3 itself. There was one day that I stopped and realized that Minthara was the first time I ever obsessed over a fem character as much as any male character. And the second thought I had after this was 'oh my god why???'

Why did I always cater more to the male characters than I did to the female ones, when most of the times, I liked a lot as well?

I'd like to point out that I've seen the topic of "Most fic authors are cis straight women" being brought up a lot and frankly, I'm not the biggest fan of it. First, because I think it's overall a very...heteronormative way of seeing stuff and it's assuming a lot of stuff that puts a sour taste on my mouth (as a queer woman myself, I really don't like that implication but that's on me). Second, because saying that 'obviously women are going to write more about men' feels very...weird. Third, I just think that this argument fails to really question the why of it all and gives too simple an answer to something is anything but.

One can make the argument that these female characters are written differently than the men, and yes that is true and it's even historical (I wrote a whole project on the invisibility of women in theater through the ages and a lot of it has to do with how women were written, but that's a story for another time).

But I don't think that's true for all cases. It's easy to blame an imaginary writer's room than question that you might have internal biases.

Because at least it's what happened to me. I grew up hearing how female characters were inferior to the male characters and it affected how I viewed them. It's something I had to stop and reevalute and it led me to appreciate characters I once loathed.

And it sucks to realize that. It sucks to realize that even as a woman myself, I was not immune to commiting sexism, that I hadn't fully outgrown the shit I saw as a kid. Does that make me a bad person? No. You're not to blame for being raised in a way that leads you to have certain prejudices.

But it doesn't mean you can't do anything about it.

And no, the solution is not to suddenly go write a bunch of femslash. Because no one is saying that you should feel ashamed for writing more for men, or forcing you to like female characters. But, I ask you to do something much simpler.

Think on the why. Why, even when we love female characters, we don't show them as much love as we do to the male ones. Why we might feel more compelled to write for the men than for the women. Because sometimes it's questioning ourselves that we can find something about us we didn't know and change how we engage with media.

And you can brush this off as just fandom stuff, but I think it does, in some ways, also reflect a bit on how we act as whole as a society. Hell, writing this whole thing made me think of how the way I was raised still interferes with my own sexuality (which is a very personal topic for me to get on here but it was worth mentioning). What I'm trying to say is that sometimes something small is an easier way for us to understand the bigger, systemic issues around us.

I know that it sounds like there's nothing to be done cause fandoms have always been like this. But, personally, this sort of conformity to the norm causes more harm then good. Things won't change unless you decide to do something about it. And the good thing about fandom is that it's small enough that doing literally anything can create some impact than, I don't know, trying to solve big, real life societal issues.

This is getting long so I'm gonna try to wrap this up quickly. No one is shaming you if you write or obsesses more or even care more about male characters than you do female ones. I just ask you to think about it and be honest with yourself. Because then maybe, just maybe, next time you engage with another media, you might end up enjoying a female character much more and obsessing over them just as much.

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Hi, I hope you’re okay.

I’m a little nervous to ask this. I have a question and I just needed some advice really and I didn’t know who too talk to. I know your account’s 18+ and I’m slightly under that, (I’ll be 17 in a month) but I’ve seen how kind and honest you are on your page.

I wanted ask about taking contraception to help ease and later stop periods, not for any sexual reasons at all just purely period based. If this isn’t something you feel comfortable answering then you don’t have to, I promise I’m not asking this to be a creep or anything.

I get heavy periods and bad cramps when I’m on, the cramps vary but when I get them they’re really unpleasant and painkillers don’t do much to help. I’ve been thinking about get something like an IUD to help as a more semi-permanent solution now that I’m getting older but I don’t really know.

If feel like I’m being stupid and dramatic for even considering it and all I can think is “am I doing this for the sake of doing it.” I just need some advice without feeling like I’m going to be judged for it.

Am I possibly considering making a massive mistake and just being stupid? Perhaps I am just being overdramatic and should just suck it up, I don’t know.

I’d love your thoughts if you’re comfortable giving them.

(Btw, I’m from the UK)

{Let’s Talk Hormones and Contraceptives!}

Hey Sweetness…!! I really appreciate you reaching out like this! I am very proud of you for being so vulnerable and sharing. You are so brave. I hope you are doing well! ♥️♥️ I don’t think your ask is weird or creepy at all. I applaud you for asking!

First things first, yes I advise my blog as 18+. This is because I often write smut and harder core fanfiction, as well as I talk about sex and harder topics. If you aren’t 18, *sigh* I usually advise caution. However, while I do have a AMAB men dni, I do not have a minors dni. This is because there are some 17 year olds that are mature enough to handle my content. But in general, and as a rule of thumb, it’s 18+ with a kind of approach at your own caution rule.

I am very sorry to hear about the pain you undergo during your period… And I’m sorry to hear that painkillers do not work. The unfortunate reality is that painkillers often don’t work to ease those pains, they do for some, but not for others. And if they don’t work for you, that’s okay; if they work for you, that’s okay.

So, to your question— What are my thoughts on using contraceptive methods to ease periods and hormones in vulva owners?

Before I give you my two cents, I want to preface by saying that everyone is different and what does and doesn’t work for me or you might be different for others. And that’s okay. ♥️

If you deal with harsh periods, excessive bleeding, hormonal headache, migraine, and more pain from your hormones as a vulva owner, I would absolutely recommend looking into and researching all your options. If an IUD or birth control pills are helpful, good, use that. Don’t be afraid to try it out. As long as you are being safe, don’t hold back.

Personally, I have migraine, and my neurologist recommended I get a hormonal IUD to try and balance my hormones better. Since getting my IUD, I don’t bleed, I don’t cramp, and my migraine episodes have gone down. It has worked wonders for me, and I am extremely grateful that I took the leap and did it.

Don’t feel stupid, sweetheart. This is all extremely valid. I have questioned all of this in my life as well. You are valid. Your feelings are valid. Your experiences are valid. You aren’t being dramatic. Advocate for yourself, speak up!

I am touched that you reached out to me about this, sweet thing… 🥰 Thank you, truly. I wasn’t uncomfortable at all, and I loved answering and giving my thoughts. I hope to hear from you again soon! Have a lovely day/night!! 💞💞💞

Talk with Me ❤️‍🔥

[triviareads]

ARC Review of The Rebel King by Kennedy Ryan

Summary:

Maxim Cade and Lennix Moon Hunter are finally together after over a decade of near-misses. However, their relationship is tested by a kidnapping, then further tragedy that leads to a political situation that will have long-lasting implications for them, their loved ones, and the entire country.

My Review:

I finally got a chance to read the Kingmaker series leading up to its rerelease and I'm so glad I did. It really is a gorgeous series— very grand and sweeping in a way modern romances very rarely are: You have your Kennedy-esque family (no seriously, the way I SCREAMED when Max invoked Bobby Kennedy at the point in time he did) except Old Oil Money instead of New England patricians, you have two characters that should basically be mortal enemies because of what his family did to hers and yet they can't help falling in love, then you have this decades-long love story, the heroine is nicknamed the Kingmaker (which I am personally obsessed with; I love reading about a good kingmaker personality— both in real life and in fiction), and now the hero who is the Rebel King (the origin story is that his middle name is Kingsmen and his mom used to call him and his brother by saying "All the king's men" which.... if that isn't a reference to the book All The King's Men, I don't know what it is).

I deeply appreciate Kennedy Ryan's dedication to portraying Lennix's Native American heritage in a respectful manner— Kennedy consulted members of the Yavapai-Apache Nation and members of other tribes while writing these books. And Lennix's culture isn't just some background thing; it impacts how she lives, her ideals, and her politics.

Speaking of politics, I think regardless of your personal views, the political aspect of this novel is written in a fairly simple, approachable way that doesn't get too technical, and Kennedy seamlessly intertwines it with the romance. Do I think a lot of it was unrealistic? Yes, but the extraordinary political situation Kennedy sets up calls for an extraordinary solution so I rolled with it.

As for Lennix and Max's relationship, I am a fan of the overall trajectory in this book; a lot of authors tend to get lost somewhere along the way after the main characters get together, but Kennedy Ryan did a great job by not injecting petty drama or whatever, but rather, the turn the plot takes means there are lots of tough questions they need to answer about their future sooner rather than later. Also, reading them as a couple (which we don't see much of in the previous book) also reveals some interesting aspects to their relationship: Maxim is a lot more possessive over Lennix in this book than I thought be would be (and I feel like this goes beyond just as a response to the situation in the beginning of this book), and outside of the relationship, he becomes a lot more maverick-y, if that makes sense. Actually, in hindsight, Lennix is fairly steady in comparison.

The sex:

The sex scenes in this book were seamless and really fit into the plot well, especially considering the insane span of emotions both Lennix and Max (especially Max) go through during the course of this book. And who said sex in a committed relationship gets boring? Not these two. Standout moments in this book for me include a very emotional sex scene after a very tragic incident (which would probably constitute as a spoiler), a scene in their kitchen where Max is full-on sucking Lennix's nipples through her sweatshirt and the noises the make gets everyone in the apartment hot and bothered lolol, and of course, the rare contemporary romance butt stuff (for both of them!).

Overall:

Honestly, I'd recommend this book to anyone and everyone: romance readers in general, fans of political dramas, anyone looking for a diverse romance... you name it, I genuinely think this book has it.

Thank you to Bloom Books and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for my review.

[pa-stella]

11 + 17 forr kuujyu (*'▽'*)

Title: Voluntary Victim Fandom: Hypnosis Mic Pairing: Kuko/Jyushi Prompt: “You, uh… You taste amazing.” Content: Vampire!Jyushi, mentions of blood, Kuko being a crazy brat, a little suggestive.

The sound of fast footsteps resounded in the empty temple as the two young men kept bickering. “K-Kuko-san! Stop with this nonsense already!”

“You are not making any sense, Jyushi!” The monk almost growled, grabbing the other by the wrist. “I’m trying to help you!”

Jyushi refused to look at him and focused on his dear Amanda instead. “You’re just complicating things.”

“I’m just offering a simpler and faster solution.” Kuko explained and opened the sliding door that led to his bedroom. 

The visual kei vocalist followed him. He sighed loudly. “You know that I can’t take any… shortcut.”

“I also know that you’re not yourself lately. You’re distracted, weaker and more tired than usual.” The monk sat down on a cushion he had left there that same morning. “You need to drink human blood as soon as possible.”

Jyushi just shook his head. “I promised my parents, my late grandmother… you and Hitoya-san that I would never bite a human!”

At those words, Kuko rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you gave me your word, but I’m your master and I’m saying you should follow your nature for once!”

“Thieving mortals of their vital lymph betrays what…”

“Oh, shut it!” He interrupted the dramatic speech and groaned. “It’s not stealing: I’m offering it to you! Just take it!”

The monk pulled the black robe a little to expose his neck. The action did not go unnoticed by Jyushi, who clearly swallowed before looking away. 

“No, no. I can’t…” He whispered as he hugged Amanda tighter.

“Ok. I won’t insist anymore.” 

Surprised by the sudden change, Jyushi tilted his head. “You… won’t?”

“Yeah, I understand when a cause is lost.” Kuko got up slowly and smiled in a way that made the vampire shiver. “But accidents can always happen, you know.”

“A-accidents?”

Kuko nodded, his smile turned into a grin. “My teeth are pretty sharp…”

“What…”

Before Jyushi could finish his question, Kuko bit down on his own lip, harder and harder. A few seconds later, he could taste the known metallic flavor of blood. He didn’t have the time to provoke Jyushi even more as he had planned. When he tried to open his mouth, the vampire was already covering it with his own.

It wasn’t a kiss. It definitely wasn’t a kiss. But Jyushi was sucking and licking his wounded lip as if his life depended on it and all of a sudden Kuko understood why people were always horny in all those movies about vampires he had seen.

The contact disappeared too soon for Kuko’s taste and tried his best to hide his dismay. Jyushi moved away in a slow movement. His eyes were closed and he was pressing his own hand against his mouth. His face looked less pale than before.

“You… uh… you taste amazing…” He commented in a whisper. 

“And you already look better!” Kuko replied, breaking the spell Jyushi was under.

The vampire’s eyes snapped open and he stared at his master in both shock and fear. “Oh… what… what have I done…”

“You did the right thing!” The monk chuckled.

“You don’t understand!” Jyushi took a few more steps back. Trembling, he picked up Amanda (he had dropped her during their kiss) and murmured some apologies. If he was apologizing to Kuko or the cute plushie, it wasn’t clear.

“Jyushi…”

“You don’t understand. I… I swore to never bite humans…”

“It wasn’t even a bite!” Kuko sighed and crossed his arms. “You just took a sip, if anything!”

“This is not a joke, Kuko-san!” Jyushi protested. “Now… every time we’ll see each other, I’ll think about your taste. When I’ll be by myself, I’ll think about you. This is a disaster…”

The monk scratched his neck. He wouldn’t use that word to describe the situation the vampire was panicking about. “Well, you’ll have to focus on your self control more.”

“This is not only about self control.” Jyushi almost pouted and hugged Amanda. “I’ll forever be thirsty for your blood from now on. I… I need to find a solution.”

Before Kuko could reply he wouldn't be the only one fighting some kind of thirst, Jyushi ran out of the door and all he could do was sit down on the cushion again.

[faerielovesanime]

Banana scandal got me so mad im loggin onto tumblr to rant....

First of all, the author fully bullying taehwan after giving him all this childhood trauma and end up with severe abandonment issues??? WAS THE ENDING.

Taehwan was sexually assaulted by Mike his guardian while being the token immigrant eldest child forced to survive in a foreign place alone with no one to turn to at a young age. THIS onto of the racism, isolation, and bullying he received throughout his childhood. He strived hard to be the nurturing older brother, got good grades internships, the unproblematic child, and mr.popular. He kept majority of his relationships at arms lank to not get hurt by anyone nor to disappoint anyone.

The next time he was assaulted was by Yeonwu. Kissing someone unconscious WOULD FREAK ANYONE OUT. If a friend did that to me in high school regardless of sexuality or gender I WOULD CURSE THEM OUT. seeing as yeonwu and taehwan were friends for years and end up in same college your telling me the only time they could genuinely talk was that night??? And taehwan wasn't even initially upset when talking to yeonwu again he was being his usual politely conditioned self. He only became sadistic when yeonwu (idc who the fuck gets drunk off 1 beer??? It's like 12% alcohol fucking hate these story lines) jumps him. Then he remembers their last encounter where he was jumped as well. Like wouldn't that piss any normal person off but because taehwan liked him he started the start of bdsm relation. Yeonwu was down bad im sorry yall he woulda sucked his dick regardless drunk on 12% alcohol, sober, fever induced, possessed by a demon whatever plot device it was he was gonna eat him if taehwan dropped it out...

The bdsm relationship was seen as bad??? Whatever they didnt really talk it out properly with safe words and such but the author made it seem like it was all bad when all of the toys were yeonwu's and taehwan was just actually making him use them. Taehwan didn't even know how to use them so why was this all put on him being sadistic when yeonwu willingly went to him everytime?? Of course taehwan felt superior they were doing a S and M play wtf??? And outside of the bdsm they were getting to know each other again...they were only fuck buddies for like what 2 months acting like it was 2 years and taehwans feelings were slowly developing over that short 2 month period.

Yeonwu actually not liking bdsm play??? Just like him dating random men he didn't even like on the app??? He came from taehwan stepping on him??? I'm confused on what yeonwu actually likes cuz what. His self esteem issues and religious parents upbringing were all valid but I think he laid the blame on taehwan way too thick.

Taehwan reenacting the high school kiss to saying he should have responded with kissing him back and yeonwu going along with it made me sick. The scene was cute but yeonwu still dumped him after lol

Taewhan still sleeps with the light on. Wakes up in a terror if he actually goes to sleep cuz he has fucking sleep paralysis from being assualted in his sleep. Wakes up angry and swinging is not funny or normal...his roommate knowing this and think he's desperate to be around people all the time instead of popular. No one knows the real taehwan cuz he's still scared to let people in besides Emma a side character who lives far away and barely confides in.

The professor at his school just being there and not being addressed??? While taehwan did everything to bring yeonwu's stalker and assaulter to justice. Only yeonwu gets relief while taehwan's assaulter living it up as a professor wtf is this? Taehwan beating that guys ass, trying to find a solution GENUINELY for yeonwu and gets put down by yeonwu so he reacts in the way there relationship is built on and tries to sleep with him yeonwu tells him to fuck off he does and they cool the relationship, later he does all this research to find his attacker after another incident and just leaves the info for yeonwu to do with as he pleases. No one does that for taehwan he's doing what no one did for him.

They really shouldn't have shown me taehwans point of view of wallowing and craving any type of attention. The man was literally screaming help for like 20 chapters with no answer. Still unanswered cuz he's more dependent on yeonwu then ever.

Idk my rant is all over the place but I'm just saying taehwan didn't deserve to be abandoned for 2.5 years like it's cool whatever if you wanna break up for a bit and establish an actual relationship. Idk how tf yeonwu got Conditioned in a 2month bdsm relationship he all of a sudden hated but go off I guess.

[loregoddess]

I'm curious, what would your ideal FE be?

And do you have any particular FE concepts in mind?

Hmmm, I've been thinking this over since you sent it to me, and it's hard to say because there's a lot of things I like that I dunno if they'd actually work together, if that makes sense? Mostly I just have a lot of thoughts about things I'd like to see in a FE game, which I can write out. Under the cut bc, length (it is Very Long, I'm so sorry). Also fair warning that I'm kind of rambling with some direction and organization, but this was all very train-of-thought while I wrote.

Like, ideally, my first thing would to be to get rid of all gender-locked classes. They're absurd. Fates got the idea right by getting rid of them, honestly (although I think women should be allowed to be butlers and men maids, as a treat, even though I know those two classes were literally the same class w/ different aesthetics). I don't have any specific wants for which classes should appear, be added, or be dropped really, just so long as the classes make sense for the overall story (Fates once more takes the prize for having the most narratively-appropriate and creative classes). I would like to see some really weird classes though, like the wolf riders in Engage are Very Cool bc wolves, and I want more weird stuff like that. Give me people riding skeleton animals, or giant bugs, as well as bears and moose and all manner of creatures that actually exist. I mean heck, historically camels and elephants were used as mounts, and we've yet to see either in FE. I also want more diversity and creativity in the infantry classes. Again, whatever fits the aesthetic and themes of the story, but I feel like we only get a handful of really weird infantry classes every now and then if we're lucky. Mounting/dismounting should be a permanent mechanic as well, there's nothing more satisfying that sticking a flier in archer range and then having them get off their flying beast.

Also weapon durability should stay gone, I hate weapon durability so much. Although I do like how combat arts and spells worked in Echoes and Three Houses, but like, the mechanics need to be tweaked. The easiest solution would be to simply have like, an attack power meter or something similar that characters could draw on to use combat arts and spells. Also, rather than locking combat arts to specific weapons a la Echoes, have is so that each character either has unique combat arts (and spells), or that they can learn combat arts and spells from specific weapons that they've "mastered" by using a certain number of times in combat, which they can then carry-over to a different weapon.

I also liked how 3H allowed any class to use any weapon, but I think this also needs to extend to magic, so that magic can be used with any class as well. This would open up a lot of opportunity for the player to really experiment mixing and matching classes, weapons, and magic with different units, which I think would be a lot of fun to play (based on how much fun I had with similar mechanics in 3H), and offer a lot of replayability for the sheer madness of trying new things with new characters. This will also do away with a lot of "I love this character, but their stats suck and they're nigh unusable" that sometimes occurs, since the player could theoretically just try out different combinations until they got something that worked (RIP to all the people who said Ignatz wasn't a good unit, I ran him through the thief/assassin line and gave him some magic, and he was a crit machine by the time I landed him in mortal savant, I want more madness like that honestly).

Obviously, having an AP pool would also require mechanics that replenish the pool during battle, which could be any variation or combination of skills, specific actions taken on the map (resting on a specific tile, attacking normally, etc.), or even adding in a special staff. Speaking of, staff durability has to go too, I'm so tired of needing to buy staffs. Also, I know a lot of magic in FE is either "a single spell stored in a tome" (most games) or "spell that character can personally gain access to" (i.e. Echoes, 3H), and like, cool beans, but I think, ideally, I'd want like, actual grimoires or other sorts of magical foci (crystal balls, wands, scepters, magic cards, the possibilities are literally endless). Either the magic weapon allows units more powerful magic attacks (if units had magic specific to them), or "taught" the unit specific types of magic (i.e. a Fire Grimoire might teach a unit fire, elfire, and bolganone, or something along those lines). Also, I want there to be a magic triangle the same way weapons get a triangle, although how that should be arranged (for both) would vary based on what types of weapons and magic the game actually contained.

Aside from what I'd like to see out of classes and battle mechanics, I don't have too many other things to wish for. I really am one of those rare "actually I really do play the game for the mechanics" FE fans. I'd want an interesting, and consistently written, story, mostly. Engage actually hit the story notes perfectly in my opinion, all the characters were about equal in their characterization--even the women were as diverse and interesting as the men--unlike the rampant sexism in Echoes or the uneven characterization depth of 3H, or the unrealized potential due to :too many characters" in Fates; Awakening was fine too, but Engage really polishes the support-based characterization to a shine. So I'd want more of that, like, even if a character is a side character, they should have interesting supports that build their characterization, and I want every character to be about equal in their writing (I know protags obviously get more attention, and that's fine).

Generally I feel like the model for supports is fine, although I think it'd be interesting to have group supports of 3+ characters to contrast the one-on-one of the current support model, just to really add more depth to the characters outside of what they get from the story. Also, while I liked that there was a lot more platonic supports in Engage, I really do miss seeing different paired endings, so I'd honestly bring back S-ranks between non-protag characters, but like, maybe not too many, if that makes sense? Awakening and Fates' supports suffered a bit from the "every man and woman can S-rank every other unit of the opposite gender bc of the child units", whereas I feel that limiting character supports per character really helps to focus the writing in a stronger way (Echoes and Engage did this the best, although I will give kudos to 3H for its unique take on supports, although the roulette of paired endings was...not well-implemented at all). But I also want there to still be a lot of platonic supports, I dunno. Mostly I just want well-written and interesting supports.

Supports aside, the only thing I'd want from the main story--aside from "well-written, consistently written", would be to Not Do whatever the writers were trying to do in 3H. It's my unpopular opinion, but (for as much as I love the characters and gameplay) the story writing just isn't that good or consistent in 3H. Fates, even with it's shitty localization, is more consistently written, and more strongly written, than 3H. FE has never actually been about war a critique of war (go to MGS or like, Triangle Strategy for that). FE flourishes narratively when it's a little goofy, and completely earnest, and focused on a few key narrative themes. I dunno what I'd want to see specifically for those themes, because I enjoy all sorts of stories, but yeah...(although to be fair, FE would probably fail as a cosmic horror story--or as any type of true horror--so I wouldn't want that I suppose, despite loving cosmic horror). Also, no split-timelines, multiple routes, etc. Just one storyline. I don't hate how Fates and 3H use multiple storylines, but...I prefer a singular story arc.

The music has been really good for basically every game, so I'd be fine with the current composers being allowed to do whatever they please. Now the art direction...I have a lot of conflicting thoughts because, on one hand, I know why a lot of the things I have personal beef with exist from a production standpoint (almost everyone has one of like, four body model types in Engage and it drives me insane bc there is NO body type diversity, but also for the modelers, it was probably more cost-effective to just have a handful of models for each class to swap out character heads and palettes for class changes, but I still hate the lack of body diversity, but I also understand why it would be easier, but...and so on).

That said, if we are talking what my absolute ideal would be, I just, really, really want diverse character designs. I want many different body shapes and sizes, I want lots of different skin tones (and please enough with the nigh grey-skinned characters), I want people to have actual noses and more than one or two nose shapes, I want crooked teeth and wrinkles and other "allegedly unflattering" physical appearances for characters who aren't evil, and just, I want the character design to really push beyond the whole "aesthetically pleasing based on the current sense of what is considered aesthetically pleasing" that I've seen in...too many media. Also enough with making all villains "ugly" (or the weird "big tiddy evil lady" trope, we've moved beyond demonizing women by making them sexy femme fatales), like, as much as I love the cartoonishly evil villains, sometimes the caricatures are just, tiring and uninspired. Honestly, Heroes is pulling more weight in the "interesting villain designs" department (as well as Kozaki just pulling all the weight in trying to have more diverse designs for women for Heroes), and just, we need more of that in the mainline games.

Also, for as far as like, animations and cutscenes and stuff, I feel like Engage made a lot of progress with it's pre-rendered cutscenes (they're back to being on par with the animations for Awakening and Fates, which had the best pre-rendered animated cutscenes of the games I've been using as examples, in my opinion), but the in-game cutscenes reverted back to the characters standing around in a circle talking a la 3H. We'd never get something like Sumia punching Chrom on the screen in either 3H or Engage, and that's a real shame bc the 3D models do look a lot more complex and pretty than the little polygon people of Awakening, Fates, or Echoes, and yet the in-game cutscenes don't do anything with them. Again, I get that from a production standpoint, having a handful of stock animations for body language and then setting the characters in a circle in a skybox to talk is easier and less-intensive cost-wise, but damn does it really suck the life out of the story at that moment. If it wasn't for the stellar voice acting, then scenes would really fall flat I think. So yeah, more character design diversity all around, better utilization of 3D assets.

And that's...where I think I'm gonna call this a post. I don't have any particular concepts for a hypothetical FE game, partly bc any time I think, "I wish this narrative device or type of story existed" I just end up taking it and turning it into one of my many personal original project ideas instead. Which is...probably why I don't have a lot of AU ideas ever, bc part of me figures if I'm gonna change that much from canon, I might as well just make up my own thing entirely and be bound by no rules except my own. But since I can't see myself getting into game coding and trying to make my own game anytime soon, I can at least think about the types of things I'd like to see in a FE game, though they may never come to be.

[ladyinrainbowglasses]

My logically considered pro-choice position:

What we are arguing is that no one has the right to force a human being to function as a living life support system against their will.

No one has the right to force a person to continue being pregnant if they do not want to be pregnant.

Sometimes things don't work out in pregnancies, and a wanted pregnancy is either going to kill its mother before it becomes viable or a wanted pregnancy is never going to become viable.

Sometimes a wanted pregnancy has physical problems so severe that it *could* survive outside its mother, but the parents and medical professionals involve all agree that the quality of life would be unacceptable to the point of active cruelty. This fetus may survive as a baby, but only through continuing heroic intervention, which is expensive and painful for a stop-gap solution.

Sometimes a wanted pregnancy does not miscarry fully, but it is medically apparent that it cannot be prevented from dying. Not performing an immediate abortion puts the mother in extreme danger.

Sometimes a pregnancy is not discovered in a person who could not consent in any way until later than we would prefer. A child under 14 needs abortion care as a matter of course - her body is in no way developed enough to mitigate the worst dangers of pregnancy, which would also cause harm to the potential child. She should not be forced, which would be a further violation of her body, but it requires destigmatization. Sometimes the pregnant person was in a coma. Sometimes the pregnant person is physically an adult, but mentally a child or even an infant.

All laws around abortion exist for is the idea that women need to have their bodies rigidly controlled by men through legal means, because we are not smart or logical or moral enough to be trusted without special laws.

Every law around abortion exists based on the fundamental principle that a fertile uterus is the legal property of the state where the human carrying that fertile uterus resides.

They are able to sell people on such a clearly absurd and stupid position by also selling a false security, by appealing to the innate human drive to attempt to control the world through casting magic spells.

You can say this isn't casting magic spells, but I can think of no other logical parallel for attempting to control something as complex as human pregnancy by writing down words in a legal code. You may as well want a law on the books outlawing the treatment of cancer, concluding that by forbidding treatment, cancer will realize it has been ritually banished. No one will get cancer if we make it illegal to treat cancer! No one will ever have a major pregnancy complication if we just make it illegal to treat such a thing!

It took me a long time to realize the position I had been brainwashed into was completely illogical, hinged upon magic spells working, and required me to behave as if I believed the average sexually active woman was stupid, cruel, and evil. I realized that I was behaving in a way at odds with observable reality and to do what? What good was being accomplished? What was better because I took an interest?

I have lived right above poverty most of my life - there are so, so many poor people who could USE HELP! Instead, we get the organizations that are commanded as a matter of religious doctrine to help the poor and the sick bullying poor women into having babies they don't want and can't afford. It is not just NOT HELPING, it is giving people who desperately need help a kick in the teeth instead. Churches suck up energy and money protesting abortion and are richer than ever. Food and housing insecurity are at their highest level since the Great Depression. Thousands of Americans die each year because they can't afford medical treatment. Yet the people who believe a literal god commanded them to take care of others do nothing but try to pass magical laws against abortion.

It's a scam to keep you distracted and bound up in a war that can't be won, so you will never focus on your fellow humans that are here with you now.

[the-firebird69]

Suicide Squad | Margot Robbie Interview on Harley Quinn Bonus Feature | ...

He recognizes her mannerisms and stuff maybe it's Amanda and know that's not it I mean members are from somewhere and newer this particular girl he thinks and she was talking a little like that and they used to hang out or something so I'm trying to figure out what it's talking about no I know who it is it's not one of my characters. She is pseudo empire and she is a girl from the high school era and is that a dance since she's talking to him and give her the number she calls up and she didn't wanna go out and he says well that sucked and that was it so he took me to the dance and it was the year after she shows up and she's bothering him and said you never call me and then he said no I called and nobody and he said no and she goes ohh ohh yeah and that was it so she's used to men pursuing her because there's because there's not too many very attractive girls around and it's here in the movie and she loves it and she knows it and she says all sorts of things she's always looking around wondering if you're there and she and she went a little nuts She lost her husband and it was bad but she doesn't know what happened and he says was he a rebel and doing effective things and she said yeah and he says they're probably gonna wait around for their show for him to just sit there and so they she gets it and says how you're saying it's weird says yeah I don't know it kind of that process is gross so she's smiling and says you're right and she says you wanna do it and I said I don't want kids to be disposed of I think I've been through enough and I know how it is. And she says how selfish. And is as well I have a wife and I have kids somewhere so she stopped laughing and said Yeah it makes sense I said Yeah Well you get a husband somewhere it's kinda weird isn't it we can beat at a bar and I can cry in my non-alcoholic beer while you're crying in your fridge and daiquiri just had laughing and said Yeah I can't have a sugar is all natural fruit fresh squeezed right in front of you and still we got our pepto pills. So she started laughing in the show and she's laughing now and it's a real show and she says we're gonna meet for non alcoholical beer and a virgin daiquiri and they said who's gonna drink which he says ohh yeah we can both have them. And she says we both have spouses missing and it's a lot different than people thought it would be and he's been experiencing it says slow down and slow down and we did and now we figured it out they're using them as bait for themselves and for us and it's going to be hell so she said laughing and crying said he'll never come to me and all of a sudden she says no you won't it says I probably won't I don't have any money at all if I did to be angry and bored I'm just driving down to the mall have an ice cream or something dinner after a movie and start talking about stuff and you get frustrated and probably tell a prostitute and move to Mexico you get lost in the phone trade and she says what the hell are you talking about he's talking about a possible scenario which might happen that's funny and she says this I don't think this is a right thing to do or idea but I think you're right about something we should be friends and other people and I think you're right it's sick not to and there's groups and I think you need to try and find people in your own group in one of those groups it's a support group for people who are missing MIA and she said I think I'm gonna do that and I hear and I hear that she did and she's feeling a lot better and there's solutions rescue Rangers are real there's there are a real group and also the losers and as you know suicide squad it's one of the missions that I think the unde and it's in the comic book and she says I don't want my life written that way and he says well I know who it is and they were told and do it for a long time she got mad it said I get that and it's working and she has to get to work so she goes thanks for wasting my time and he says it says you're good looking and I had to have some time so she smiles says that's good for you they give me a hand The only thing I can say is she did a gratuitous **** shot with her uniform one and he goes hey kid and she says don't call me kid okay lady i'll meet you at Comic Con when I get bigger I should be about the size of that guy that says bring it so she's pretending she hits him in the noggin not too hard and it makes a funny noise and he gets knocked out

Hera

This might sound awful but these little skits are hilarious what he says to women and girls isn't that great and he's married and she's powerful and he says screw that i'm saying it because I'm being their friend and it's true he's messing around with him and they always want his lucky charms. And he says it that way and they laugh they say we wouldn't have a huge kid it might turn out to be stupid and hurt us. It has a strategic advantage at this time. So they back off but this is a fun i.... So they back off but this is a fun idea to meet her there and she'll be in costume and he'll be big and he says I'll be at least 10 pounds heavier by August or the same size and more muscular and she'll have to settle for the Tommy F Bain's so it's gonna happen everybody thinks and she's gonna get that dog away from her and I'm gonna help and the dog doesn't belong there and one day you'll see you're not my wife and you're holding here and that's what they think so they don't know about outside

daniel

Olympus and funny renditin the bonk on the hed too

[inkofamethyst]

December 15, 2022

Every time I tell someone that I don’t really play video games but that I’m really into video game music they always press and are like “but you must play some games, right?” like listening to vgm without the game is the wildest thing they’ve ever heard and like I’ll say “haha yea I mean I play Skyrim and Minecraft” but I play MC so so sporadically and I can’t admit to people that I haven’t played Skyrim in years because I didn’t like going into the caves where the draugur are because they scare me and I’d run out of quests to do aboveground.  And nobody knows about Sky, so.  Like, videogames as a medium are so amazing for storytelling, and I love those elements, but, as a woman, I simply am not good at them.  Everyone knows that the gamer gene is stored on the Y-chromosome.  The boys make gamer juice in their testes, and I simply cannot compete.  The closest I can get biologically is liking vgm and I only do that to attract men, clearly, because I’m not like other girls.

I’m not actually mad about it lol.  I actually find the phenomenon to be kind of funny.

Went out to get food with my photo-friend who.. reminded me once again that I should get out of my head when it comes to dating and stuff.  Like,,, okay.  I do not plan to be here after six months.  I just can’t help but think that it’d be really selfish to try to find a guy while I’m here knowing full well that I don’t plan to stay, but my cello-friend and my photo-friend disagree.  I guess... I mean I guess if I were on the other side, if I started dating someone who was planning to move away and we really hit it off, then I guess I’d try my best to keep it going if they were up for it too, but I’m such an out-of-sight-out-of-mind kind of person that doing something like that would be really hard for me, I think (when saxophone-guy told me to text him when I was bored during my study abroad, how could I explain to him that there is too much for me to do at any given moment to ever reach a state of boredom (and I know, I know the sentiment was more like “text me when you think of me” or “don’t forget about me” but my point still stands)).  But it’s all about systems.  I suppose if I had a system, specific times to reach out, then maybe.

Anyway all of that is super hypothetical anyway.  Even if I wanted to try dating there’s no way I’d have the courage to download an app for the simple reason that my entire family can see when I do and even though they have never snooped on me in that way (that I know of) there’s also nothing stopping them.

Hold on.  I’m gonna have to bring back the Detective Game because what I just said REEKS of insecurity (or something along those lines).  Evidence: my parents have never, not once confronted me about an app or song or whatever that I’ve downloaded even though they totally could.  Conclusion: they probably won’t ever check, and it’s fully unreasonable for me to think that they would.

K well even if I wanted to, I don’t have enough candids of myself to make a good profile, and in the same way that I didn’t have the patience to learn snapchat etiquette, I don’t really know dating app etiquette.  I would not have the patience to wait for a man who I matched with to message me, for example.  Ain’t nobody got time to wait.  (There are easy solutions to both of those problems, but I am overlooking them on purpose, thank you for understanding.)

Anyway, that was a much longer tangent that I’d planned.

Today kind of sucked because I spent all of it working on applications, ugh.  I mean I submitted literally four of them today, and I’m just kind of tired at this point, uhm.  I think I did something wrong in every single one, probably.  I mean I didn’t commit the cardinal sin of saying the wrong school’s name in an application, so that’s a plus, I guess.  I dunno, I’m cautiously excited, but I won’t hear back for another four months or something like that which is torturous.  Now I have to switch gears and finish all of my finals stuff.

Today I’m thankful that I only have one more application left to do.  And I think my top school’s application was practically flawless (though maybe I spent too much time talking about my qualifications and not enough about why I like the program itself), so I’m thankful for that too.

[genshinluvr]

Imagine the genshin men dealing with reader having their period... 💀 (This idea suddenly came up into mind cause I'm having mine right now and it sucks 😭)

Omg, anon, same with me ;v; we'll suffer through this together! Maybe that's why the small Ayato angst got to me yesterday huhu 😭

I can see them spoil the reader if they're on their period (the reader will either be AFAB!reader or fem!reader). The men will react to it in different ways depending on how bad their period is. Enjoy this short little fic :>

Warning: slightly suggestive comment.

Light periods are just as bad as heavy periods. While the days are short, the cramps can be really painful, and the cycle can last for a week long. Since period cycles are different from person to person, it's a little hard to predict what the reader's period flow is like along with their cycle. The men will have to play a guessing game when it comes to your period. I can see them track your period and your ovulation— specifically Childe when it comes to your ovulation because the man just wants to breed you and claim you as his. Gorou, in particular, can smell blood because he is part canine. He can smell your blood way before you even realize that you're on your period, embarrassingly enough. He's always ahead of the men when it comes to knowing that your cycle has started.

Cuddling with Itto is a MUST. He's a huge guy and has more muscle mass than the other men. I can see cuddle time with Itto being the best thing ever! He's so soft and gentle with you 🥺 His hands combing through your hair while you bury your face into his chest, whining softly about how painful your period cramps are and how much you hate being a woman/afab sometimes. Gorou would be whimpering every time your face scrunched up in pain when a wave of painful cramps hit, resting his head on your back while rubbing your shoulders.

I can see the men taking turns to cuddle with you; they will spoil you in their own way. Zhongli will brew you tea to soothe the aching cramps; he will tell you a story about the archon war and what he had witnessed while you snuggled up against him. Dainsleif will cuddle with you on a hammock outside of the mansion, you laying on his chest, fast asleep while his hands caress the small of your back while lightly tracing your features with his thumb.

On the other hand, if it's a really heavy and painful period with excruciating cramps (and nausea), the men will spoil the living hell out of you! They will stock up on pain medications, they'll get you the food that you're craving for, and they will give you massages if your lower back is hurting. As for cramps, I can see the pyro users cuddling up with you. But since the others don't want to be left out, I can see a cuddle pile! Kind of...

Childe would say, "No! That's not fair! Just because they have a pyro vision doesn't mean they can hog you for themselves!" With a dramatic pout on his face and his arms over his chest.

"Exactly, ice can also do the job in soothing aches and pains." Kaeya would interject, sitting on the armrest of the couch with his arms over his chest.

"Okay? What's your solution to easing [Y/N]'s cramps then?" Diluc will ask, his head resting on your stomach while he holds onto your hand.

A smirk will then appear on Childe's face before he gives a nonchalant shrug, "Well, I hear that orgasms can soothe cramps. I'm pretty skilled in making [Y/N] orgasm multiple times!" That's when he gets a slap on the back of his head by Xiao and Scaramouche. Their faces were bright red from hearing Childe's suggestion.

Zhongli will clear his throat awkwardly, "I believe that a heating pack should do the job." His cheeks were bright red, along with the tip of his ears.

"But heating packs don't last as long," Thoma says, gently massaging your lower stomach as he was spooning you from behind.

"And I bet you don't last in bed as long as I do!" Itto would exclaim with a smug grin.

"When did this turn into a debate on who lasts the longest in bed? Surely, the one that lasts the longest in bed would be me." Ayato sighs, pinching his nose bridge. The men began to mutter in disagreement, mentioning who could last the longest, who has the most stamina, and who can get you to orgasm multiple times.

"Can we not discuss this?" You groaned, throwing your head back with a loud sigh. "All of you, you either cuddle with me—"

"Us." Thoma interrupts you.

"— Us or you guys leave." You huffed, running your hands through Diluc's soft, long red hair.

"They can all leave and have it be the three of us," Diluc says, kissing your knuckles before smirking slightly at the other men's reaction.

"Move aside, losers! I'm cuddling with [Y/N]," Childe says, pushing through everyone.

"Hey! No fair! I want [Y/N] to cuddle with me instead!" Gorou exclaims, running over to where you, Diluc, and Thoma lay.

"Guys! Don't pile on top of us!" You screeched as the men pushed and shoved to get to where you, Diluc, and Thoma lay. You just hope that they won't crush the three of you while trying to find the perfect way to snuggle with you. And Thoma and Diluc. Maybe they won't crush you in particular, but since Diluc and Thoma wanted to hog you for themselves, they might make it an exception to crush a person or two.

[blackstarising]

coming back to this post i made again to elaborate - especially as the ted lasso fandom is discussing sam/rebecca and fandom racism in general. there are takes that are important to make that i had failed to previously, but there's also a growing amount of takes that i have to, As A Black Person™, respectfully disagree with.

tl;dr for the essay below sam being infantilized and the sam/rebecca relationship are not the same issue and discussing the former one doesn't mean excusing the latter. and we've reached the glen of the Dark Forest where we sit down and talk about fandom racism.

i should have elaborated this in my last post about sam/rebecca, but i didn't. i'll say it now - i personally don't support sam and rebecca getting together for real. i believe what people are saying is entirely correct, even though sam is an adult legally, he and rebecca are, at the very least, two wildly different stages of life. for americans, he's at the equivalent of being a junior in college. there are things he hasn't gotten the chance to experience and there are areas he needs to grow in. when i was younger, i didn't understand the significance of these age gaps, i just thought it would be fine if it was legal, but as someone who is now a little older than sam in universe, i understand fully. we can't downplay this. whether or not you think sam works for rebecca or not, even despite the gender inversion of the Older Man Younger Woman trope, whether or not he is a legal adult, i don't think at this point in time, their relationship would work. i think it's an interesting narrative device, but i don't want to see it play out in reality.

that being said!

what's worrying me is that two discussions are being conflated here that shouldn't be. sam having agency and being a little more grown™ than he's perceived to be does not suddenly make his relationship with rebecca justified. i had decided to bring it up because sam was being brought into the spotlight again and i was starting to realizing that his infantilization was more common than i felt comfortable with.

sam's infantilization (and i will continue to call it that), is a microaggression. it's is in the range of microaggressions that i would categorize as 'fandom overcompensation'. we have a prominent character of color that exhibits traits that aren't stereotypical, and we don't want to appear racist or stereotypical, so we lean hard in the other direction. they're not aggressive, they're a Sweet Baby, they're not world weary, they're now a little naive. they're not cold and distant, they're so nice and sweet that there's no one that wouldn't want approach them, and yeah, on their face, these new traits are a departure and, on their face, they seem they look really good.

but at a certain point, it reaches an inflection point, and, like the aftertaste of a diet coke, that alleged sweetness veers into something a lot less sweet. it veers into a lack of agency for the character. it veers into an innocence that appears to indicate that the person can't even take care of themselves. it veers into a one-dimensional characterization that doesn't allow for any depth or negative emotion.

it's not kind anymore. it's not a nice departure from negative stereotypes. it's not compensating for anything.

it's patronizing.

it is important that we emphasize that characters of color are more than the toxic stereotypes we lay on them, yes, but we make a mistake in thinking that the solution is overcorrection. for one thing, people of color can usually tell. don't get it twisted, it's actually pretty obvious. for another, it just shifts from one dimension to another. people of color are still supposed to be Only One Character Trait while white people can contain multitudes. ted, who is pretty much as pollyanna as they come, can be at once innocent and naive and deep and troubled and funny and scared. jamie can be a prick and sexy and also lonely and also a victim of abuse. sam, however, even though he was bullied (by jamie, no less), is thousands of miles away from home, and has led a protest on his team, is usually just characterized as human sunshine with much less acknowledgement of any other traits beyond that.

and that's why i cringe when fandom calls sam a Sweet Baby Boy without any sense of irony. is that all we're taking away? after all this time? even for a comedy, sam has received a substantive of screen time over two whole seasons, and we've seen a range of emotions from him. so as a black person it's hurtful that it's boiled down to Sweet Baby Boy.

that's the problem. we need to subvert stereotypes, but more importantly, we need to understand that people of color are not props, or pieces of cardboard for their white counterparts. they are full and actualized and have agency in their own right and they can have other emotions than Angry and Mean or Sweet and Bubbly without any nuance between the two. i think the show actually does a relatively good job of giving sam depth (relatively, always room for improvement, mind you), especially holding it in tension with his youth, but the fandom, i worry, does not.

it's the same reason why finn from star wars started out as the next male protagonist in the sequel trilogy but by the third movie was just running around yelling for REY!! it's the same reason why when people make Phase 4 Is the Phase For Therapy gifsets for the mcu and show wanda maximoff, loki, and bucky barnes crying and being sad but purposefully exclude sam wilson who had an entire show to tell us how difficult his life is, because people find out if pee oh sees are also complex, they'll tell the church.

and the reason why i picked up on this very early on is because i am an organic, certified fresh, 100% homegrown, non-gmo, a little ashy, indigenous sub saharan African black person. the ghanaian tribes i'm descended from have told me so, my black ass parents have told me so, and the nurses at the hospital in [insert asian country here] that started freaking out about how curly my hair was as my mother was mid pushing me out told me so!

and this stuff has real life implications. listen: being patronized as a black person sucks. do you know how many times i was patted on the back for doing quite honestly, the bare minimum in school? do you know how many times i was told how 'well spoken' or 'eloquent' i was because i just happen to have a white accent or use three syllable words? do you know how many times i've been cooed over by white women who couldn't get over how sweet i was just because i wasn't confrontational or rude like they wrongly expected me to be?

that's why they're called microaggressions. it's not a cross on your lawn or having the n-word spat in your face, but it cuts you down little by little until you're completely drained.

so that's the nuance. that's the subversion. the overcompensation is not a good thing. and people of color (and i suspect, even white people) have picked up on, in general, the different ways fandom treats sam and dani and even nate. what all of these discussions are converging on is fandom racism, which is not the diet form of racism, but another place for racism to reveal itself. and yeah, it's uncomfortable. it can seem out of left field. you may want to defend yourself. you may want to explain it away. but let me tap the sign on the proverbial bus:

if you are a white person, or a person of color who is not part of that racial group, even, you do not get to decide what is not racist for someone. full stop. there are no exceptions. there is no exit clause for you. there is no 'but, actually-'. that right wasn't even yours to cede or waive.

(it's also important to note that people of color also have the right to disagree on whether something is racist, but that doesn't necessarily negate the racism - it just means there's more to discuss and they can still leave with different interpretations)

people don't just whip out accusations of racism like a blue eyes white dragon in a yu-gi-oh duel. it's not fun for us. it's not something we like to do to muzzle people we don't want to engage with. and we're not concerned with making someone feel bad or ashamed. we're exposing something painful that we have to live with and, even worse, process literally everything we experience through. we can't turn it off. we can't be 'less sensitive' or 'less nitpicky'. we are literally the primary resources, we are the proverbial wikipedia articles with 3,000 sources when it comes to racism. who else would know more than us?

what 2020 has shown us very clearly is that racism is systemic. it's not always a bunch of Evil White Men rubbing their hands together in a dark room wondering how they're going to use the 'n-word' today. it's systemic. it's the way you call that one neighborhood 'sketchy'. it's how you use 'ratchet' and 'ghetto' when describing something bad. it's how you implicitly the assume the intelligence of your friend of color. it's the way you turned up your nose and your friend's food and bullied them for it in middle school but go to restaurants run by white people who have 'uplifted' it with inauthentic ingredients. it's telling someone how Well Spoken and Eloquent they are even though you've both gone to the same schools and work at the same workplace. it's the way you look down at some people of color for having a different body type than you because they've been redlined to neighborhoods where certain foods and resources are inaccessible, and yet mock up the racial features that appeal to you either through makeup or plastic surgery.

it's how when a person of color behaves badly, they're irredeemable, but a white person performing the same act or something similar is 'having a bad day' or 'isn't normally like this' or 'has room to grow' and we can't 'wait for their redemption arc', and yes, i'm not going to cover it in detail in this post but yes this is very much about nate. other people have also brought up the nuances in his arc and compared them to other white characters so i won't do it here.

these behaviors and reactions aren't planned. they aren't orchestrated. they're quite literally unconscious because they've been lovingly baked into western society for centuries. you can't wake up and be rid of it. whether you intended it or not, it can still be racist.

and it's actually quite hurtful and unfair to imply that concerns about racism in the TL fandom are unfounded or lacking any depth or simply meant to be sensational because you simply don't agree with it. i wish it was different, but it doesn't work that way. i'm not raising this up to 'call out' or shame people, but i'm adding to this discussion because, through how we talk about sam, and even dani and nate, i'm yet again seeing a pattern that has shortchanged people of color and made them feel unwelcome in fandom for far too long.

coach beard said it best: we need to do better.

[backtobackbakubabe]

Speak Easy Part 13

Dabi x Reader , Bakugo x Reader

Words : 3125

Masterlist

Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together.

Words with ‘this’ is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.

********************************************************************

You watched as Dabi paced in front of you as you hugged your knees to your chest. Shoto had come to sit next to you and you were grateful for his calming presence. He kept giving you a weird look and then looking at his brother. He obviously wanted to ask what was going on between the two of you, but you mouthed, “later” at him and he shrugged it off.

“Ok. So what? He has a list of my safe houses. That’s okay… That’s arguably a good thing actually.” Dabi was thinking out loud trying, and even though his voice sounded calm, you could see the way his hands balled into fists so tight his staples were pulling.

“No one knows about this place. This is the safest house out of all of them. I bought it after I left the League, it’s in the middle of nowhere, and the security is the best money can buy.” He stopped his pacing and looked at his brother, “So…”

Shoto draped a lazy arm around you and you released a tense breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. He quirked his head at his older brother, “So…? What? Why is that a good thing?”

Dabi’s eyes got this scary look. They practically glowed and you could tell whatever he was thinking probably wasn’t good. “It means we can pick them off. Set up traps for them at my other safe houses. It might take some time… we won’t know what houses they’re targeting so at first it’ll be a lot of guess work.” You could see a scheme hatching behind his eyes and for once he truly looked like a villain. “You said Bakugo was already out looking for them, right? I can meet up with him! They’re my houses after all, no one knows them better than me.”

He took off towards the bedroom mumbling something about needing to pack. Your wide eyes connected with Shoto’s, “How long before he remembers he’d have to leave me behind and panics?”

Shoto hummed, “I’d say about thirty seconds after he’s done packing.” He shrugged, “It’s not a bad plan honestly. I see he’s gotten rather attached to you lately though.”

You could hear the unspoken question and you weren’t sure you were ready to jump into that conversation just yet. It was bad enough that Katsuki knew. You shrugged and averted your eyes back to the door Dabi had disappeared behind. “We’ve gotten pretty close. You learn a lot about someone when you’re stuck in a house with them.”

“SHIT!”

Shoto sighed, “Sounds like he just remembered.”

Dabi stomped back into the living room and stopped a few feet in front of you. His stare was intense almost like he was trying to see through you. You could see his frustration growing as he battelled internally over what he should do. “I can’t leave you here by yourself… I don’t want to leave you at all. But- But I can’t take you with me either.” You could see his mind running a mile a minute trying to come up with a solution.

“You can leave me here, I’m not totally useless. I have the collar, so you can call me, check on my location and vitals and all that creepy shit.” You gestured to the younger Todoroki sitting next to you, “And I’m sure your brother and Izuku are dying to have some time to catch up. They can keep me company. Kiri too if need be.”

Dabi kneeled in front of you and laid his arms on either side of you, caging you in. “It would drive me insane leaving you here.”

You brushed your thumb over the spot between his eyes, smoothing out his worried expression. “More insane than if you stayed here and let Katsuki handle this on his own?”

His body sagged and he leaned his forehead onto your shoulder. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say it sounds like you want me to go.”

You leaned your head on his. “Of course I don’t want you to go idiot. But I hate to break it to you, I know you pretty well… And I don’t think sitting here day after day listening to you complain about how you could do it better, sounds like fun.” He groaned because he knew you were right. “So, go ahead and go. I’ll be fine here I promise. Go catch some bad guys with Katsuki.”

“Ugh don’t say it like that. You make is sound like a cheesy buddy cop movie. I just hope your little hero friend isn’t squeamish because I’m not going to hold back.”

Shoto cleared his throat, “Some of us… little heroes… have seen enough shit to last a lifetime. Bakugo’s the hardest working and grittiest out of us all, so believe me when I say you don’t need to worry about him.”

Dabi narrowed his eyes at his brother who he had just realized was practically cuddling with you. “Seeing death and dealing it out are two different things. I know he’s capable of killing someone, but mentally I don’t think he could cross that line.” He held a hand up to stop Shoto from arguing with him. “And I don’t care if he doesn’t want to get his precious hero hands dirty. Because that’s what I’m here for, and I’m honestly looking forward to it.”

You huffed, “Listen, I really don’t like the look you get when you talk about killing people. It’s sick… killing isn’t supposed to be fun you psychopath.”

His eyes shifted back to yours, “Baby girl. I want to make something clear. I will find the sick fucks that kidnapped you. I will torture them in the most painful and humiliating ways possible. By the time I’m done… they will welcome death with open arms. I’ll be doing them a favor.” His forehead pressed against yours. “Unless you’d rather I save them for you…My destroyer of men.”

You hit his shoulder, “I’d rather you let Katsuki arrest them! You know how I feel about killing villains.”

His hand gripped the back of your neck hard to force you to look at him, “…No. You know I can’t do that. The sooner you accept that, the easier all of this will be.” His thumb rubbed your cheek, “I know it sucks. But this is the world you live in now. We can’t trust anyone but ourselves.”

Shoto cleared his throat, “Listen I don’t know what is going on between the two of you, but I would appreciate it if you refrained from being kinky in my presence.”

Dabi growled, “Fuck off! You literally let yourself in unannounced… When all of this over I swear we’re leaving the fucking country. I’m so sick of you brats just coming over whenever you feel like it. We’re gonna leave and you’ll never see us again.”

Shoto quirked an eyebrow, “So… Even after all of this is resolved… you plan to still live with y/n?” You could see the gears turning in his head as he pieced all of this together. “Hmm interesting.” He got up and stretched. “Well I guess I’ll give you guys some alone time to… do whatever this is… just without me having to witness it.”

“Hey before you go… You sure you’re okay with keeping an eye on her while I’m gone?” You hadn’t heard Dabi sound so uncertain before. Usually he carried so much confidence that it was overwhelming. But now he sounded lost.

Shoto nodded, “Yeah it’s not a big deal. Izuku and I can take shifts. Kirishima will probably take over every now and then depending on how long you are gone… But we don’t mind. Y/n was right when she said we’d like to catch up with her.” He gave you an awkward wink that was completely out of character for him. “You’ve been hoarding her all to yourself for months now.” He walked down the hall and shouted, “Try not to be too loud. I’ll just pick the room that smells the least like sex.”

“Good luck! I’ve fucked her on every surface of the hou—” You slammed a hand over Dabi’s mouth to cut him off.

You hid your face in Dabi’s shoulder to stifle your laugh. “I love your brother so much. He has no filter and it’s honestly so refreshing.”

A quick slap to your thigh had you gasping, “I don’t appreciate you talking about my brother that way.” He nipped at your earlobe harshly, “Especially after I just agreed to let him stay here while I’m gone.”

Before you could respond he was standing up and throwing you over his shoulder, “I think I need to remind you who you fucking belong to.” He slapped your ass as you shrieked, “I might be gone for a while, so I think I need to give you something to remember.”

“You are so ridiculous! He’s literally in a committed relationship with another man!”

Dabi tossed you onto his bed and immediately fell on top of you. “He’s also my brother and I know that slut swings both ways.” He bit down hard on your shoulder, “I’m going to leave my fucking mark all over you before I go.” He sucked a bruise into your neck, “Tonight… I’m going to claim every fucking inch of you.”

He had you naked underneath him within seconds, kissing down the column of your neck. He continued down to suck a nipple into his mouth and you had to bite down on your lip to keep from screaming.

“Come on baby, let him hear you. Let him hear how good I treat you. Let him know that there is only one Todoroki for you.”

You wanted to argue with him. There was no way Shoto was interested in you at all. He’d been in love with Izuku since high school. But you were also enjoying the way Dabi was marking his territory. There was something so peaceful about giving up control to another person, especially someone you trust.

You let him kiss and suck and grope every part of you. In this moment you were his to do with as he wished. You didn’t care he was leaving mark after mark on your skin. He was claiming you, he was daring others to lay a finger on what it is his. And you fucking loved it. You loved the peace and the comfort that came with the idea of him declaring that you are his. The security of knowing he wouldn’t let another soul touch you.

He bit harshly into your inner thigh, making you yelp and buck your hips.

He chuckled darkly as he came back up and rubbed his nose against yours. “Baby girl, just look at your face. I haven’t even touched your pussy yet and you already looked so fucked out.” He dragged his fingers lightly over your stomach, across your ribs, over your breast, and finally let them settle on your neck.

You shivered and closed your eyes, “Dabiiii, stop teasing me.”

His fingers tightened around your throat. “You said some shit earlier that really got under my skin. And now I can’t decide if I should punish you or not.”

Your head spun as it tried to think about what you possibly could have said to upset him. “What – what did I say?”

Dabi leaned in sucking your bottom lip into his mouth before biting down hard. “You said…. You loved my brother.”

Your heart pounded in your chest and you felt an intense heart overwhelm your face and neck. Was he saying what you thought he was saying? Was he jealous? Did he want you to say you loved him? Is that really what he wanted to hear?

You hadn’t noticed him pulling his own pants down until he was thrusting into you. “I’m a selfish man y/n. I’m greedy. I don’t share. And hearing those sweet little words said about someone else.” His hips snapped into yours harder, as his fingers got even tighter around your neck to the point where you were sure there would be bruises.

His pace picked up and you could feel the sweat dripping from his forehead, “I wanna hear you say it. Who do you love?”

Your eyes rolled back as you croaked out a horse “you”

“That’s not good enough doll. I said! WHO do you FUCKIN LOVE?”

His fingers let go of your throat and as intense pleasure washed over you, leaving your legs shaking, “YOU!”

He fucked you through your orgasm before he followed right behind you, “That’s what I fuckin thought.”

He only parted with you long enough to clean the two of you up. He wandered to the bathroom to get a warm, wet towel. You hummed contently as rubbed it all over your body, especially over the sore new marks he had made on your skin. When he was satisfied, he tossed the rag to the floor to deal with later and rejoined you in bed. He pulled you to him, your back to his chest, and let out a huge sigh. “I’m really nervous about leaving you here. And it honestly makes me angry. I’ve never cared about another person like this, hell I’ve never even cared about my own well being this much.” You could feel him resting his chin on your shoulder, “It makes me feel weak and I hate it.”

You intertwined your fingers with his that were wrapped around your middle. “You know what they say about bravery right? Bravery isn’t not being scared. Only stupid people aren’t scared of anything. Bravery is being scared of something and doing it anyway.” You sank further into his embrace. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m scared too. Which is equally as frustrating.”

You could feel him kiss your shoulder, encouraging you to continue. “I used to be incredibly independent. I lived alone, I worked alone, because of the classified nature of my job I was pretty isolated. I didn’t need anyone, and I was more than happy to get shit done on my own…Now the thought doing anything without you gives me anxiety.”

He sighed, “If anything that makes me feel worse… I believe we have a classic case of codependency… it’s your fault by the way. For sucking me in to your annoyingly needy arms.”

“Says the guy who has his arms currently wrapped around me like a vice.” You wanted to stay in this sweet moment. He was never this open with you, never this soft. “And even though it’s not my fault, I will admit that I did kind of need you for everything when I first got here.” You felt his chest rumble with silent laughter. “But you never really complained, did you? To be honest I had thought you would have been… I don’t know… a little more… cold I guess.”

His hands heated up as they rubbed circles into your stomach. “To anyone else I definitely would have been.” He turned you around so he could pull your chest to his and rolled onto his back, tucking your head under his chin. “I was fucking toast the second you fell into my arms though.” He groaned, “UGH! I sound like such a pussy. I hate it.”

You pressed several kisses to his chest, “Well I don’t hate it.”

There was a long stretch of silence in which the two of you just held each other, not wanting to burst your bubble.

Dabi cleared his throat and you knew he wanted to talk about it. “Listen… While I’m gone all of the laws are still valid. You still need to take care of yourself. Just because I’m not here to force you to eat lunch doesn’t mean you don’t have to.” His fingers rubbed up and down your spine. “I’m sure if you ask the guys, they’ll work out with you, but they need to keep their filthy hands to themselves.” His hand stopped at your collar, “And as much I hate saying this. Don’t call me.”

You lifted your head and gave him a confused look, “What? You worried your side chicks will hear?”

He reached down and slapped your ass, “Shut up. I literally live with you and we never leave the house. That jokes not even funny.” His hand started to rub the same spot he had just slapped, “I’m being serious though. I don’t want you to call me. If something happens and they get my phone, or hell if they somehow capture me, I don’t want anything tying me to you. Shigaraki suspects you’re with me otherwise he wouldn’t be going through my safe houses. But he doesn’t know you’re with me, and I want to keep it that way.” His voice got quitter as he mumbled into your hair, “Besides… I think if I heard your voice I’d give up and come home.”

You froze, “Okay, that is officially the softest thing you’ve ever said to me… and I love it.”

He growled low in your ear, “That’s it, I’m going to start calling you whore, and making you call me sir. I’m losing my damn edge.”

You just giggled, knowing he was bluffing, but then again… he did get you a collar.

“I’m going to miss you… sir.”

“I’m gonna miss you too… my special little whore.”

You sarcastically beamed at him, “Aww you think I’m special?”

That night, you barley slept. You were so worried he’d leave without waking you up to say bye. So, as a consequence you woke up several times throughout the night and every time, he’d pull you closer and mumble a sleepy “still here.”

When morning finally came you sat on the bed with your kneed tucked under your chin as you watched him finish getting ready. Your eyes followed him as he walked around the room, taking his time. He knew the sooner he got dressed the sooner he’d have to leave.

Finally, when he had no other choice, he laced his boots up and looked at you. “Come here…” He held his arms out to you and you quickly slid into his embrace. “You be a good girl while I’m gone, okay?” He kissed the top of your head. “Listen to Shoto and try not to give him too much shit. Follow the laws, don’t watch any of our shows while I’m gone, if there’s any big emergencies have one of the guys call Bakugo.”

You nodded and looked up into his bright blue eyes, “You be safe, and don’t do anything stupid. Come back preferably in one piece please.”

He chuckled, “I will do my best doll.”

************

Tags: tags: @falling4fandoms @wifunozomi @here-in-never-land @whore-for-anime @klecksstorys @aurorahoneybuns @theunknownrandom @insane-without-delirium @frenchsfryys @officiallydarkgeek @neofixcs @music-is-all-i-need @katsuki-bakubabe@unadulteratedtastemakerpoetry@dabislittlemouse@aimee1602@pinkhatlizzy @kunaigirlx44 @nii-sanfucker@bestgirlb @silver-stardrop@bakubby99 @squichymochi

[emonaculate]

Fuck em

❥ AU: Modern!AU

❥ Genre: Fluff and a bit of angst

❥ Rating: Everyone can read

❥ Pairing: Tetta Kisaki x black!reader

❥ Warnings Include: bullying, insecurities, tw!kisaki, mentions gang violence, mentions of gaslight and manipulation

❥ Request: I was wondering if I could request a fluff one-shot for Future Kisaki where he has an alt s/o who's feeling a little self-conscious about how they look after some people at the store or while at work talked about them and treated them like they were a demon spawn just cause how they look. (As a black alt person I've been through this once and ugh!) Kisaki just tries comforts them and he's being all soft.

❥ Author Note: When I say this was challenging to write, not because the prompt was hard but because I cannot stand that mf on a different level smh. I tried to keep him in character while still making it fluffy. I really do relate to being treated differently so I think I went a little too deep with some of what Yn feels but I really hope you enjoy anon :)

Kisaki Tetta was not known to be remotely kind; it just wasn't in his playing cards. He was a ruthless and rather brutal individual. Why waste time trying to find a peaceful approach for a solution when you could manipulate or fight your way to the outcome you wanted? It was much more efficient that way, in his opinion at least.

So why, why was he standing outside the room of his beloved girlfriend listening to her sobbing through the thin walls as he thought of ways to comfort her. It would be much easier to tell Y/n that shit happens and she should suck it up like the rest of society. Yet, he couldn't find it in himself to say it not when she sounded so down.

A frustrated grunt rumbled in his chest as he opened the door and saw Y/n laying on their shared bed hugging a pillow sadly.

"The fuck you crying for?" He winced after he heard how harsh his voice sounded.

"Not now, Tetta. I'm not in the mood to deal with your shit too." Y/n weakly replied wiping away fresh tears resisting the urge to glare at her insensitive boyfriend.

"I already put that together dipshit, your loud ass sobbing was distracting me from my work these walls are not as thick as I thought." He huffed.

"Oh I'm terribly sorry, I'll be sure to cry quieter next time asshole." Y/n snapped in disbelief as she stood up from her spot on the bed ready to leave the room and get away from him.

Kisaki watched her silently walk past him into the hallway as he frowned in frustration with himself. Why was this shit so hard? Comforting people in their time of need never was his specialty but he should have been able to at least try for his girlfriend, for fucksake. Pride be damned, he owed it to her to make an effort.

"Y/n wait" He called out, walking behind her.

"If you're gonna say some more stupid shit-"

"What's got you all emotional?"

Y/n blinked owlishly at her boyfriend, it would have been comical to hear the Great Kisaki all nervous and flustered in the face if not for the fact that she still was sad about what happened earlier. The girl shook her head and gave a weak smile as she reached to grab his hand and pull him to the couch.

"Remember when I went with you to that Valhalla meeting with you?"

"I don't remember you going with me, I remember you sneaking in after I told you to not come." He corrected sitting on the couch, seemingly bitter that she showed up.

"Yeah well same difference, anyways when I showed up I kept getting those looks from the members. I know that not many people are aware that we're dating so I was okay with it at first but then the comments started." Y/n's eyes water as she recalled the events.

Kisaki remained silent and listened to her talk about the different comments his men were saying about his woman. He was beyond furious and was most definitely going to correct their mistakes in the best way he knew how.

"I'm used to comments on my skin tone but to hear them mock me for my outfit and style hurt so bad. Why should I have to fit the stereotype of what a black girl is for people that are irrelevant to my everyday life? It's not fair." Y/n let go of his hand to hold herself tightly.

"I'm sorry." Kisaki finally spoke and shifted in his spot to grab her face gently.

"Wha-" Y/n started only to be cut off.

"I'm sorry you have to deal with bullshit that's out of your hands. The way you dress and express yourself is your business all that matters to me is it makes you happy and you still look hot. As much as I hate to say it, this shit is in your head. You need to ignore what they say, it's just words. Words are meaningless when it comes from people you don't care about. Stop letting it affect you like this."

Despite his harsh words, his hands gently stroked her face and continued to wipe away any new forming tears. The expression in his eyes was softer than the usual glare he had on his face as he looked at Y/n.

"I know but it's so hard sometimes," Y/n whispered lightly not wanting to cry again.

"Then I'll help you work on it, for every negative comment that bothers you, ill try to give you a positive comment." He declared seriously.

"Tetta-"

"I'm serious. Don't try to change my mind, Y/n."

"Okay.."

Silence filled the room as Kisaki let go of her face and laid back on the couch and closed his eyes seeming satisfied about the exchange before he felt Y/n's body lay on him. A few moments of blissful silence filled the room before Y/n's soft voice called out to the almost asleep male.

"Hey, Saki.."

"Hm?"

"I love you." She said holding onto his chest tightly before snuggling in to take a nap as well.

He wrapped his arm around her waist and shifted to get comfortable with his eyes shut as he was prepared to doze off again. Perhaps, he was capable of being kind after all...

"I love you too."

[forever-rogue]

Patricia!! First of all congrats on a new follower milestone! Those are always so exciting and asking and you deserve every one of them! Could I possibly request 39: “I wish we could stay like this forever” and 80: “let’s run away together” from promo list 2 with Oberyn? I love how you write him and would die to see what you do with this 🥺 ily Patricia! And congrats again! ❤️

Anything for you, my love! Enjoy 🥺

(also not necessary but I am a fool - this could totally be read as a slice of life in INO)

Oberyn Martell x Fem!Reader ; warnings: references to sex

Pedro Characters Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

The warmth, golden light filtered in through the sheer curtains, and the fresh, salty smell of the ocean and sound of chirping birds hit you all at once. It was a late, but beautiful and blissful morning and you were loath to get up. All you wanted was to stay here forever, wrapped up in the arms of your beautiful lover. Almost as if he sensed that you were up, you felt him grinning against your skin as he pressed a flurry of gentle, saccharine kisses to your chest and collarbones. You mumbled something into the soft pillow, something about wanting just five more minutes of sleep, but he just chuckled. 

“Sleep is for the dead, sunshine,” he murmured as he worked his way up your neck and stopped at your lips.

"I wish we could stay like this forever," a small huff of air escaped your nose as you pouted at him, slowly opening your bleary eyes. You found his soft brown ones, crinkled sweetly in the corners as he grinned at you, studying your face intently, “good morning.”

“Speak for yourself,” you teased him, “it cannot be a good morning if I am being woken up at such an ungodly hour!”

“Ungodly hour,” Oberyn laughed - a twinkling, beautiful sound - before laying back down and pulling you on top of him. You made a small sound of surprise at the sudden motion, but quickly quieted down when you felt his warm, bare body against yours. His golden skin on yours was delicious and warm, soft and strong at the same time, a perfect juxtaposition - just like him. You laid your head onto his chest, “it is almost the afternoon, sweet girl, it’s hardly ungodly.”

“Why can I not enjoy the day in bed with my prince?” you sighed softly, running a hand through his dark curls, “why should I allow the world to part me from my lover in such a manner?”

“Unfortunately the world requires us to be present,” he chuckled as kissed the top of your head. You huffed lightly although you understood what he meant. You'd always known - from the moment you had met the handsome prince.

“And what’s more important? The world or me?” you joked as he grazed his fingers up and down your spine, leaving a wake of gooseflesh under his fingertips. You sighed into his touch before pressing a few kisses to his bare chest.

“You, of course,” he promised, “and you have me always, first and foremost. But sometimes the world needs their prince.”

"And what about me?" you said softly as his large hands landed thoroughly on your backside, giving the firm flesh of your ass a squeeze. You giggled wildly before turning to look up at him and grabbing his jaw, "play fair!"

"I am," he insisted as you kissed him, "you will always manage without me. For the world needs their prince, but what is a mere prince to the queen?"

"Shut up," you groaned at him before moving to sit up so you were straddling his lap, his body humming with gentle love under yours, "you are not even a prince - only a mere fool!"

"A fool for you," he insisted softly as his hands found purchase on your hips. You beamed at him, golden as the sunlight and causing his heart to melt, "let me show you how a queen - my queen - is treated."

"Oberyn," you gasped slightly as his hands wandered up your body and to your breasts, "I thought we had to get up and rejoin society?"

"I've changed my mind," he grinned, "the prince needs you instead."

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Its beautiful here," you were sprawled out on the lush, soft blanket, soaking up as much sun as possible. You were near the edge of the stunning lake, secluded and alone, as you listened to the soft lapping of the waves onto the shore. It was so serene and blissful, for a few moments you almost forgot that a world outside of this place existed. 

Oberyn hummed in content as he popped a few fresh, plump berries into his mouth. He grabbed a particularly plump looking strawberry and held it out to you, dangling it just in front of your lips. You made a show of taking a large bite from the berry, letting the juice dribble from your lips and down your chin.  He tuttled lightly before using his thumb to collect the juices and holding it out to you. 

Grabbing his wrist, you pulled his thumb into your mouth before sucking it clean before slowly releasing it with a loud pop. He grinned at you, before pulling you in for a kiss. 

"You are a very tantalizing little thing," he licked across your bottom lip, savoring the sweetness that lingered. You grinned against him before pulling away and lying back down on the blanket. Oberyn watched you for a few moments before lying next to you, his large hand grabbed yours and he defty laced your fingers together, "you're thinking much too loudly."

"I am doing nothing of the sort," you shrugged innocently, keeping your eyes closed in order to shield them from the sun - and Oberyn. He had a knack for being able to read every thought and feeling almost as if he was able to see into your soul. Naturally, there were a million things running through your mind at once, but you weren't going to tell Oberyn any of that - not yet anyway, "perhaps you're being too analytical."

"It wouldn't be the first time I've been accused of such a thing," he snorted in laughter, "but I, my sunshine, am also able to read to you - easily. Tell me what's going on in that pretty head of yours."

"And if I refuse to speak my peace?"

"Then I shall be forced to pull it out of you," he insisted softly as he brought your hand to his lips and pressed a delicate kiss to your knuckles. Sighing contentedly, you rolled onto your side so you could properly face him.

And he was beautiful - so stunning in his golden glory. He was older now, than when you'd first met him, calmer after everything he'd survived in King's Landing, even more wise and world weary than the best men. Which you supposed he was; a man with words as sweet as roses or sharp as hawthorne - it was easy to see why everyone fell at his feet, but he still reminded them of why he was the Red Viper.

The soft brown of his eyes, flecked with gold in the light, always seemed to betray him.  At least to you anyways. His hair was longer these days, softer much like him, lightened by the sun and flowing into luscious curls. His facial hair has greyed slightly (from keeping up with all of the kids he always claimed), and he was more...him. 

You'd always loved him, from the day he seemed to save you from a life of uncertainty and domineering men. But it has been a privilege to watch him grow, to see him become the best version of him - it was always thanks to you, he claimed, a guise you greatly disputed. But you loved him - your husband - more than the moon and all the glittering stars in the night sky. 

Playing with you a lock of his soft hair, you continued to brush off the insinuation that anything was wrong, "nothing is the matter, Oberyn. I am merely enjoying the private company of my husband."

“And yet there is so much going on in that mind,” he mused, as you shrugged innocently, “so much buzzing, I’d think we were in Honeyholt and tending to the bees. My dear sunshine, you should know better by now - when have I ever let such a thing go?”

“You are incessant,” you groaned lightly, but appreciating the care and concern nonetheless, “it is silly - a mere folly that should not even worry me and alas, here I am.”

“If it matters to you, then it is not a mere folly,” he promised, “you can tell me anything.”

“I know,” you agreed with a small. You sat up slowly pulling your knees to your chest as you looked out into the sparkling water. Oberyn followed suit before moving to sit in front of you, putting his hand under your chin and turning your face up to his. He almost left you breathless with his easy beauty and warmth, “it’s just...I like this. Just you and me, no one else around, no worries, no duties. I...I hate to think once we return home it will all cease to exist - you will be forced to your duties, as I understand you must, and I? Well, I suppose I will be your dutiful wife, hoping and wishing for a chance to see her husband.”

“Then I suppose we should run away, shouldn’t we?”

“I...Oberyn...what?”

“I’m serious,” he insisted softly as you just laughed at his idealistic ways, “let’s run away together, even if just for a while. No one has to know...and when we are ready we shall return.”

“That is a temporary solution for a permanent problem, my love,” you gave him a weak smile before pulling out of his touch, “what about when we return to Dorne?”

“Always so serious, my sunshine,” he chuckled softly as you huffed at him, “you must ruin every little surprise, mustn’t you?”

“I have done nothing,” you insisted, sticking out your tongue at him, “all I do is care about my husband and I am teased and punished for being woeful and caring!”

“You have not been teased -”

“I have too, Oberyn Martell!”

“I will make it up to you, sweet girl,” he praised with a glint in his eye, “however, whenever, and wherever you should fancy. Now - will you let me finish?”

“I have not been-”

“Your prince demands it.”

“Well your queen insists that she hasn’t been doing anything of the short,” gave him a little smirk, “but go on and tell me about this so called surprise.”

“When we return home to Dorne, things will be different,” he promised as you raised your eyebrows in question, “I have been thinking, and don’t even say a word, and I think it’s time for me to...take a step back and let Doran and Arianne, as his heir, handle things from now. I am getting tired...weary, of all these tasks that should be left to the next ruler. Besides, Arianne is more than ready to take over. I think I should quite enjoy a quiet, leisurely life.”

“Oberyn,” your mouth dropped and formed a small o as you studied him to try and see if he was being honest. A smile tugged on the corners of his mouth before he broke out in a wonderful grin. You leaned over and kissed him, unable to stop yourself, “do you mean it? Please tell me this isn’t some sort of cruel joke.”

“I would never do such a thing,” he whispered as he pulled you into his lap and you wrapped your arms around his neck, “I just think...it’s time. Besides, there is nothing more I want than to spend my day with you, and the girls - think of all the things we can do. There are still ways to help our people, but we will do it together.”

“You continually amaze me,” a single tear, this one of nothing but happiness and love had rolled down your cheek as you pressed your forehead against his, “and I will never know what I did to deserve you, and I will be forever grateful to the universe for bringing you to me.”

“Now you’re just flattering me,” he reached up and gently wiped away the tear, “for it should be the other way around. I take it as though you are not opposed to the notion?”

“Not at all,” you smiled softly, “I could have asked for nothing better.”

“Then what do you say?” his hand found the back of your neck as he gave you a gentle squeeze, “shall we run away? To Essos - the Summer Isles - far away from everything? Only to return when we decide we are ready to?

“Yes,” you eagerly agreed, delighted by the prospect of spending the days and nights at your husband’s side, without a care in the world, “I want nothing more.”

“Then it is settled,” he promised, “now, will you let me show you every way in which I love you?”

“Oberyn!” your face flushed with warmth as you looked around to make sure no was within ear shot, “we are out in the open! Anyway could...see.”

“And that is not our problem,” he shrugged simply, “we have told them not to disturb us, hopefully they heed our advice. But now, sweet girl, you are all mine.”

“Always,” you promised softly, “I am forever yours.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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