#//I let the men get their little gay feelings out and now I can rest. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

roboticchibitan · 1 year

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I remember when same sex marriage was legized in my state (3 years before obergefel vs Hodges which legalized it nationwide). It won by a very narrow margin.

People who had taken care of me when I was young, people who were like second parents to me, (along with half the other people I knew) were saying it was the end times because I could now get married. And I couldn't help but wonder... would those people have protected me, cared for me, let me play with their children, if they had known I would grow up to be queer?

I came out in 2011. I was lucky. My parents were accepting. My mom was clearly uncomfortable at first but she made it clear she loved me no matter what.

Except.

My dad didn't care if I was queer and assured me that didn't mean there was anything wrong with me (in a speech I didn't need to hear but I think he needed to say). But he still said "that's gay" and "that's faggy" anytime my little brother showed vulnerability.

And I was a lucky one. My father used homophobic slurs around me regularly. He turned the word gay into a slur with his homophobic mouth. And I was a lucky one.

When I came out publicly, my grandmother stopped speaking to me for a while. I'm lucky that she changed her mind. I'm lucky that my grandparents let me bring my girlfriend with me when I went to visit them in October. October of 2022 and I still consider myself lucky that my grandparents let my queer partner into their house. My other grandma likewise visited with us, and was polite and friendly, but she still refused to call my gf anything other than "your friend." Still lucky. Incredibly lucky.

People don't understand just how bad things were as much as ten years ago. When I came out at school, I was lucky. No one bullied me. No one shoved me into lockers or called me slurs. They all just stopped talking to me. I became invisible. I went to a small school. I was the only person who was out. Exactly one person talked to me the rest of the year. And I was a lucky one.

When I was in middle and highschool, the go to insult was "that's gay." I heard it constantly. Every day. Sometimes people said it to me to insult me, long before I even knew I was queer.

I was lucky because the worst that happened to me was social isolation and people using slurs around me or turning my identity into a slur. No one called ME faggy. No one beat me up behind the school bleachers. I was incredibly lucky.

I have experienced the word "gay" used as a slur far more than I ever heard the word "queer" used as a slur. Young "queer is a slur and only a slur" people need to know the world you live in is not the world the rest of us live in. Why is "queer" a slur but "gay" isn't? My homophobic father thought the word "gay" conveyed just as much offense and disgust as the word "faggot." So why is queer the horrible word that can never be reclaimed but people say "that's gay" as a compliment now? The loneliest I have ever felt was in a room full of teenagers who thought my identity was the height of insults. So why is gay fine but queer isn't?

I am a fat butch queer and I do not hide that. My shoes have a pride flag on them. I have a masculine haircut and wear men's clothes. I look queer.

And I am afraid. I dress like this anyway, because I want other queer folks to know I am a safe person. I dress how I do partially because I like it but also partially so any queer person in the room, no matter now closeted, can see me and feel a little bit safer. Because I will protect other queer people with my life if need be.

Because I am openly and visibly queer and live in a world where being queer can get you killed. Because it can. Gay bashings still happen. The alt right are getting bolder in their violence, and that includes homophobic/transphobic violence. There are organizations in the US that are actively pushing to make homosexuality punishable by death in Africa. They know they could never accomplish that here. But they would if they could. People want us dead.

Young people need to understand that. And they need to understand that the people who did the most work to free us from criminalization were queer. They identified as queer. And they weren't the perfect law abiding queers toeing the line of what's acceptible. Because being queer itself was illegal. You could end up on the sex offender registry for being gay. In fact, there are queer people who are STILL registered as sex offenders just because they were queer in 2001. Pride wasn't a permitted parade with wells Fargo floats. It was angry queers illegally marching down the streets, screaming "We're here. We're queer. Get used to it."

Being openly queer is a radical act. It is still a radical act.

I did not live through Windsor vs the united states, the referendum 74 debate, my father punishing my brother for being human with homophobic slurs, and the pearl clutching fearmongering about "the gay agenda" (that was a go to phrase for 2012 homophobes) for some LGBT kid to come at me with TERF bullshit they got off tiktok about how my identity is a slur and I'm a horrible person for using it.

I was a lucky one and I'm still saying "no, absolutely not" to this bullshit.

Queer is more inclusive. Queer accounts for any possible fluidity because people change. Identities change. Queer is there for people who know they're Something Different but are not sure of the details yet. Queer is intentionally vague. When you're young you want everyone to know exactly who you are but as you get older you realize actually my identity is none of your business. In fact, sometimes when you tell someone your identity, you're handing them a bludgeon for them to hurt you with.

If you have trans classmates, you do not understand the world the rest of us grew up in. Trans people were not a public topic. They were not even acknowledged as existing by most people. I didn't know what being trans was until I was like 17. I'm nonbinary now and consider myself trans 10 years later.

And I didn't even have it that bad. But you know what? It still sucked and it was still hard and I can't imagine what it was like to grow up a decade before I did. I had it easy compared to most people.

If you can jokingly say "that's gay" when someone expresses queer love, then you can fucking handle people using the word queer as their identity.

The infighting and policing each other has to stop. You're oppressing queer people with this bullshit. It does not matter what words queer people use to describe themselves when there are people actively killing us. What are you doing? For fucks sake look at the bigger picture. Direct all that rage at our oppressors and the people who mean us harm. Queer people and he/him lesbians and bi lesbians and people who use neo pronouns and whoever else is the discourse of the day do not deserve this kind of treatment. Punch a homophobe and maybe you'll feel better.

#tw homophobia #had to go on a rant because I was thinking about how trapped and afraid I felt during the referendum 74 debate #nothing was safe #no one was safe #we are still not safe #discourse

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ecoamerica · 15 days

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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crazyyluvr · 22 days

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Hello! I have a request if that's okay? Could you maybe do a James Potter x male!reader (with the reader being Ravenclaw) where they end up being partnered together in potions and afterwards James is like 'shit. I think I might be gay.'

Basically where the reader is his gay awakening haha

pairing: james potter x male!ravenclaw!reader

summary: in which James never knew men could be so attractive until he gets paired up with you in a Potions activity.

genre: fluff, gay awakening, crushing

wc: 2.1k

warning/s: cursing, reader is a little taller than james, he/him pronouns, gay panic, james is a lil shy here, potion nonsense that i made up on the spot, reader is good in potions, mention of boobs lmao

note: oooh, interesting request anon. i like it. i hope you enjoy!!

oneshot under the cut :: not edited

James Potter was dying.

No, not literally. But he did feel like he was literally dying.

This is what a painful death felt like, didn't it? The inability to properly take in air, the painful pounding of his racing heart, the stumble of his tongue as he tried and failed to properly speak.

On the contrary, James Potter was not just dying. He was dying of embarrassment.

Let's rewind a little bit for some context.

Gryffindor and Ravenclaw were stuck in the dungeons of a double Potions class together. As usual, James sat beside his friend Sirius Black, and as usual, they were noisy with sniggers and poorly muted whispers.

"Black, Potter, do you have something that you'd like to share?" Professor Slughorn called to the two boys sitting in the back after a wheeze from Sirius was too loud for the professor to ignore.

"No sir, we're — we're fine," James said, sounding slightly out if breath from containing his laughter at a joke Sirius had made. "Just a little hot in here, isn't it?"

Slughorn sighed. "It's less hot here in the front, Potter, so why don't you switch with Shelby here?"

The girl sitting beside you perked up at the mention of her name, looking back and blushing when she realized that she was going to be sitting beside Sirius Black.

"On the contrary sir, I think I feel slightly colder already," James grinned. "I'm fine with staying at the back."

"I insist, Potter," Slughorn held a strained smile, displaying the fact that James had no choice but to follow.

The boy sighed, giving Sirius an exaggerated mournful look before picking up his things and walking over to the now vacant seat in the front, messing up his hair along the way out of habit.

He set his things down beside his chair and slumped into it, sparing a glance at his new seatmate. "Hello. I guess you're stuck with me for today," James said quietly, not wanting to disrupt Slughorn's lesson again.

You turned to face him, giving him a small smile. "I guess so. Nice to meet you."

James nodded, and you looked away to jot down some notes as Slughorn wrote on the board.

James did a double take, his brain just processing the face he saw.

Woah, he's handsome.

He couldn't stop himself from looking at you again, taking in your features from the side; your focused eyes, your cheeks, your jawline, your lips.

James had to make himself blink twice to snap himself out of his trance. I'm straight. So what if he's handsome? I'm handsome too.

"Now that we're done with our lesson, you will use the rest of the period to brew a simple Sleeping Draught with your seatmate," Slughorn announced. "Go through your books for the procedure, and don't hesitate to ask me any questions you may have."

With a wave of his wand, a cauldron appeared on the side of each pair's table. "The ingredients are in the cupboard behind me," he continued, waving his wand once more to open the cupboard doors. "You may begin."

James went to stand up, but you put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. He looked at you and saw that you got to your feet. "I'll go get the ingredients. Can you partially fill the cauldron with water and heat it up please?" You asked.

"Uh — sure," James responded, making you smile and pat his shoulder twice before leaving with you Potions book in hand.

James stared after you, shook his head to focus. You gave him a task, and he had the weird goal to not let you down. He muttered “aguamenti” under his breath and water spilled out of the tip of his wand, filling the the cauldron. He flicked his wand upward to stop the flow once the water was halfway.

He ignited a fire under the cauldron and stayed standing over it, watching bubbles appear in the water.

“I’m back,” you greeted, gently putting down the ingredients on the empty part of their table.

James turned his head to look at you, his breath hitching when he noticed that you had a few inches over him, the top of his head reaching a little bit above your eyebrows.

He watched you pull the sleeves of your uniform upwards to your elbows, revealing your forearms. He swallowed with difficulty.

Get your head in the game, Potter, James thought, mentally slapping himself. He’s just a random boy from Ravenclaw whose taller than you and has really nice arms. Big deal.

“I’ll cut the ingredients up, you put them in the cauldron and follow the stirring. Is that okay?” You asked, giving him a glance before you put the ingredients on the cutting board in front of you.

“You’re doing an awful lot of work, huh?” James said, chuckling breathily, making you laugh slightly in response.

“Stirring properly and putting the ingredients in is also important, is it not?” You smiled teasingly, cutting the plant root with as much accuracy as possible.

He watched your fingers glide over the root and how the veins on the back of your palm popped to life when you gripped the knife.

Holy shit, James, control yourself, the messy-haired boy scolded himself. Think boobs. Boobs!

“Are you ready for the Quidditch match tomorrow?” You asked, attempting to break the semi-awkward silence between you two.

“Ah,” James remembered that Gryffindor had a match against Hufflepuff. In truth, he wasn't all that worried about it, since he's seen their Seeker and he isn't much (NO HATE ON HUFFLEPUFF, I LOVE HUFFLEPUFF <33).

"I think I'm ready," James said after a moment of silence. "I don't feel all that worried about it," he grinned, sending the boy a wink. Why he did that when he normally only did it to girls (with the exception of his own friend group) he had no idea why. I guess being with you made him full of even more surprises.

You rolled your eyes playfully at him. "Sure." You handed him the chopping board with your evenly cut plant roots on it. "Time for you to shine, Mister Potter. Pour it and stir it properly."

James took the board with an exaggerated bow. "It's my pleasure, good sir." He tossed the roots in the boiling cauldron almost carelessly, some of the water splashing onto the back of his hand.

You, who was supposed to be grinding some mineral to powder, immediately set down your mortar and pestle to check on the boy who winced in pain as the hot water made contact with his skin.

"Be careful!" You scolded, gently grabbing his hand and examining it. "It's not that bad of a burn, but we're gonna have to rinse it with warm water."

James nodded dumbly, the pain numbing slightly as soon as his hand made contact with yours.

Soft hands, he noted.

You dragged him over to the sink on the other side of the room and let the faucet run for a little while before guiding his hand under the running water, your focus blinding you from James's stare.

I'm straight. I'm straight. Straight as a wand.

"Does it hurt, Potter?"

"James," He answered absentmindedly.

"What?"

"Call me James. Not Potter."

You looked up, his big brown eyes staring at you behind round, silver-rimmed glasses. "Okay, James," he totally did not shiver at the sound of his first name rolling off your tongue, "does it hurt?"

James shook his head. "It feels way better now."

"Are you sure?" You questioned, brows creasing in concern.

"Yeah — yep, I'm fine," he answered, his eyes unblinking as he maintained eye contact with you despite his small stumble over his own words. "We can just continue brewing the potion, yeah?"

Which brings us to the present moment, where he felt like he was dying.

"Okay, as long as you're sure..." You said, not entirely convinced but letting it slide for now.

You pulled down your sleeve on one arm to use it to wipe the extra water that lingered on his hand before letting it go entirely. James was already missing the warmth.

"Let's head back," you said, checking your watch as you turned around to return to your table and to resume your tasks of preparing the ingredients.

Your work commenced in silence. Your potion was a little messed up from the lack of stirring and addition of the other ingredients, but it wasn't unsalvageable. You just added some bark and leaves to balance it out a little.

You hesitantly handed the ingredients to James, worried that he was going to hurt himself again, but this time he was gentle, smiling at you victoriously as if not getting burned again was an accomplishment — which it was, you guess.

"You're stirring too quickly, James," you said, laughing slightly at his somewhat aggressive stirring.

"It didn't say that speed mattered," he replied cheekily, continuing his ministrations.

You sighed, shaking your head slightly with a smile on your face as you took a step towards him and grabbed his stirring hand, the one that wasn't burned. James eyes widened a fraction at the contact, but said nothing.

"Slow down," you murmured, guiding his hand to a much slower pace compared to the one he had set moments before. "No need to rush."

James didn't reply, too busy trying to tame the redness of his cheeks. In order to guide him, you had to stand close behind him, your chest grazing his back and your breath fanning his ear and part of his neck. Goosebumps trailed over the skin that your hot breath caressed.

"'Stir clockwise until potion turns a light shade of blue,'" you read from the instructions in your book. "What do you think, James? Is our potion ready yet?" You hummed the question almost directly in his ear.

This damn man. No way is he not doing this on purpose.

"It — No, not yet," He said, mentally whacking himself in the back of his head for his stammering.

"Alright, we keep stirring then."

You could have let go of his hand already and let him stir on his own, but you didn't. You kept your hand over his, clutching it in a gentle grip, until your potion turned from purple into a light blue.

You smiled. James, for some reason, could feel that smile despite not seeing it. It tingled in the back of his brain.

"Okay, we're done."

You let go of his hand, moving to the side to grab a dropper and a vial. James pulled the stirrer out of the cauldron and set it aside, watching you collect some of your potion and putting it in the vial.

"The Sleeping Draught can be deadly in large amounts," you said, collecting more of the potion as a bit of your Ravenclaw brain slipped out. "If you take too much of it, your calming sleep will also turn into an endless one."

You put down the dropped and took a stopper to seal the vial. You looked up at James with a smile that James could only interpret as mischievous. "Everything can kill you if you have too much of it, don't you agree?"

You don't wait for him to reply before going to the front and placing your vial in the empty rack on Slughorn's table, holding a small conversation with Slughorn before returning to get your things.

"We can leave early," you informed James, grinning. You shouldered your bag and adjusted your blue tie to not choke you as much, the hot atmosphere of the Potions room getting to you a little. "See you around, James."

You left him staring at your back, mouth slightly open and eyes wide.

Sirius passed him to get some ingredients his partner forgot to retrieve earlier and noticed his dumbfounded expression. "You good, Prongs? What happened to your hand?" He asked, looking at James's hand as he raised it to ruffle his own hair.

"Pads," he said, his voice cracking slightly. "Pads, I think I'm in love."

"Huh?" He followed his best mate's gaze, catching a glimpse of your uniform before you disappeared completely. Sirius looked back at the bespectacled boy with a cheeky grin on his face.

"Nah mate, I think you just got your gay awakening. Welcome to the club, Prongs."

"Yeah..." James's eyes were still fixed on the doorway where you once were, before his eyes snapped to Sirius's when his words fully processed in his brain. "Wait, you're gay??"

Sirius shrugged. "I'd be disappointed in myself if I wasn't," he joked, clapping James on the back. "You got good taste for your first boy crush," Sirius said before leaving James to his unpacked things and his own thoughts.

Can't argue with Padfoot about that: I definitely got good taste in men for my first guy crush...

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x male reader #marauders #marauders x reader #marauders x male reader #marauders era #sirius black #male reader #harry potter

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kingofthe-egirls · 10 months

Text

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MONSTER TRIO x Y/N (part 2)

brothel au

(part 1)

Requested by @partyanimal167

(a/n: sw, foursome, fingering, vaginal sex, anal sex, cunnilingus, blowjob, gay sex, marijuana)

Summary: A continuation of Y/N’s first time at the esteemed pirate-brothel, named Lavender Gardens.

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You're sandwiched in bed between three hot, muscular men. One is at your ear, licking playfully (Sanji), another is molding your tits in his hands in front of you (Zoro), and the other is sliding his thick fingers along your clit (Luffy).

You gasp.

Your pussy clenches around nothing as Luffy fingers you, his grinning face inches from your own. He rests his chin on your shoulder, and whines. "Can I put it inside you?" He asks breathily, and you nod. Slowly, he pushes in two digits at the same time. You stiffen at the feeling, tensing under the other two's ministrations. Sanji nips at your ear.

"Easy, Luff. She's not warmed up yet."

"She's plenty wet," Luffy huskily replies. He starts pumping his fingers in and out of you, and you hitch a breath. Sanji grabs your ass, squeezing the flesh hard.

"Is that so?" He murmurs, letting his own hand explore your folds. His fingertips move gracefully around where Luffy is fingerfucking you, contorting his wrist to nip at your clit. Zoro sits up in front of you, and gently takes your face in his hands. He kisses you, hard.

"D'ya like that?" He asks, his teeth around your bottom lip. You whine, nodding softly as Luffy and Sanji pleasure you. Sanji's fingers dance around your puckered hole, behind where Luffy's still playing with your pussy.

"Is that alright, darling?" He asks, "Would you like your holes filled?"

Your pussy clamps down hard around Luffy's fingers--now three inside you at once--and he gasps. "Yeahhh," he giggles, voice raspy, "I think she likes that."

"Let's not deny her, then," Sanji growls, and gets up to open the dresser for lube. Luffy grins in your ear.

"I like you," he whispers, and speedily goes back to rubbing your clit. You moan, arching your back in pleasure.

"Can I lay down?" You ask, naked and hot beneath their movements. Sanji comes back to kneel on the bed, bottle of oil in hand. He puffs up some pillows for you to lie back on. Zoro scoots over, and opens his arms for you to rest against his chest. His body is warm, achingly so, and his arms are buff where they rest around you. He lazily plucks on your sensitive nipples.

"Excited?" He asks you, mouth pressed against your temple. Sheepish, you nod. Your face feels hot, and your legs are trembling.

"Nervous, too," you admit, as Luffy positions his face between your legs. You squeak, twitching a little as his breath ghosts over your inner thigh. It's squishy, with cellulite, and he places love bites along it on the way to your pussy. You squirm, held tight in Zoro's arms. "I-it's been a while since I've gotten laid."

"Well, perfect timing," he replies, and gently removes the sparkling kanzashi from your hair, letting it tumble down to your waist. He runs his fingers through it gently. "Pretty," he murmurs, and you flush. Luffy's face is at your core, lips positioned just above your aching heat. You need him, now.

"Please?" You ask, voice breathy, as heat churns in your gut. You've never felt this way before, this...this aching. Butterflies cry in your stomach, fluttering around fiercely. You imagine them red, and blue, and emerald green. You turn to press a kiss to Zoro's cheek.

Luffy's tongue flicks against your entrance.

"Tastes good," he mutters, before diving in facefirst. He laps at your clit, running his tongue over and over it in figure eights. His fingers come up to reclaim their rightful place inside you, pumping furiously as he licks at you like a dying man. You groan, arching into Zoro's chest where his hands grip your tits, keeping you in place. His own hard cock twitches against his abdomen, and you reach down to take it in one hand.

"Fuck," you say, surprised at his girth. Zoro's cock is heavy, thick as dynamite, with a light brown tip. Your fingers can't wrap all the way around it. He groans into your touch, and you turn your head to see his eye flutter shut. His cheeks are dusted amber-pink. Like a sunset, you think.

Luffy mutters something under his breath, nose still pressed against your pubic bone. His lips are latched around your clit, sucking hard. He crooks his fingers up a notch.

You cum.

Unbidden and unburdened, you spasm around Luffy's efforts. A loud moan escapes you, as you arch off Zoro's chest, his arms letting you go. You bury your hands in Luffy's raven hair, keeping him close to you. He grunts in approval, not stopping his efforts as he steers you through the waves. Like a pilot, steering a ship homeward.

Homeward, with them.

"I love it here," you breathe out, your shudders coming down in waves. Eventually, Luffy pulls out. You moan at the loss of touch.

He grins, "Don't worry," he turns to Sanji to grab the lube. "We won't leave you empty for long." He pours the crystal-clear oil onto his fingers, and you smell coconut. He flashes his eyes back up to you, wicked. He smears the lube across his cock. "Want me yet?"

"Of course!" You exclaim, sitting up to spread your legs. Zoro sits up too, repositioning on the bed. He bends forward, crawling on all fours to take Sanji's hard cock in his mouth. The blond moans, head falling back in pleasure. He runs both hands through Zoro's mossy hair.

Luffy kneels in front of you, pumping his own dick in his hand. It shines from the lube, bronze cockhead disappearing in and out of his fist. "Ready for me?" He cocks an eyebrow. You nod.

"Ready."

Slowly, he pushes in. You're already wet and stretched out from his fingers, so the press of his cock only ever feels like heaven. His eyes roll back in his head. "Fuuuuuck," he drawls out. His hips stutter, and his hands come shaky to rest on your tits. He plays with them, trembling. "C-can I--," he swallows, sweat forming on his brow, "Can I start moving?"

You hook your ankles around his waist, pulling him in. "Please," you whisper, "I need it."

***

The bed creaks as he thrusts into you, pants heavy and hot on your shoulder as he ruts into you. The lamplight flickers from the bedside tables, casting orange shadows on his face. He turns to plant a messy kiss to your cheek. "Feels good, right baby?" He asks. "Wanna hear you cum," he moans, burying his face in your neck. You wrap your arms around his neck, eyes squeezed shut as you grip his silken hair in both hands.

"Y-Yes," you moan, voice pitchy, "Please keep going--!"

He ruts into you faster, propping up on his elbows so he can get better leverage. He angles his hips up, pistoning in and out of you and right up against your g-spot. Fireworks dance behind your eyelids. "Fuck!" You scream, pitching forward with your spine seizing up. Luffy giggles, and redoubles his efforts.

No one's ever fucked you this fast, before.

"H-holy shit, Luffy--," you pant, "I'm cumming--!"

"That's my girl," he roughly pounds into you, voice proud and dominant, "That's my good girl."

His dirty words send another jolt through you, and you shudder on his cock. You pant through your orgasm, sweat pouring down your temples. Your tits are hot, nipples tingling. Your legs shake around Luffy's thick torso.

He slows his pace.

"S'alright?" He asks, slowly pumping in and out of you as you come down. You nod, sitting up so he can pull out of you. You swallow, throat dry.

"Water?" You croak.

Luffy nods, reaching off the bed to pour water from a pitcher into a glass. There's a small silver tray with a crystal decanter, along with a porcelain dish adorned with a half-smoked blunt. You giggle.

"Smoke much?" You ask, eyeing Luffy as he hands you the glass. He grins, sheepish, and scratches the back of his head.

"Shishishi," he laughs, eyes crinkling shut. Holy shit, you think, that's the best laugh you've ever seen. The boy oozes charm, and comfortability. You can't help but feel at ease with him.

Luffy plops down next to you, his own glass in hand. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you close into his chest. "Let's cuddle," he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek, "I like you."

"I like you too," you respond quietly, cheeks warm. You don't want to overstep your boundaries, though you hope his sentiments are truthful. "Did you have fun?" You ask, meeting his gaze with doe eyes. Your whole body has gone soft, pliable, and you sink into the warmth of his chest. You sip your water thoughtfully.

"Mhmm," he nods happily, tightening his arm around your shoulders. His hand idly goes to stroke his own cock, still half-hard. Sanji and Zoro are at the foot of the bed, pleasuring each other. You blush, and see Luffy's grin turn wicked as he side-eyes you. "Wanna watch?"

Blankly, you nod.

Both you and Luffy sip from your crystalline glasses, slowly cooling down from your intense session. Luffy strokes his cock with a loose fist, more just enjoying the sensation than trying to get off. He probably has a lot of sex (and orgasms) throughout his day, so you don't really mind. You're too overstimulated to keep going, anyway. You curl your legs up to your chest, setting your empty water glass back down on the tray. A diamond droplet falls from the side and onto your fingers, plinking onto the porcelain dish with Luffy's discarded weed.

He leans over you to pluck the joint off the tray, along with a heavy brass lighter with a skull and crossbones emblazoned on the front. He flicks it on, and takes a long pull with his eyes closed. Zoro moans softly, and you turn back to look at where he's half-buried inside Sanji's hole.

Your eyes widen, having never been this close to two men fucking before. Their bodies are light, athletic, and shining with sweat. Sanji is bent over on all fours, his fist between his legs to slowly jerk himself off. Zoro's thrusts are lazy but powerful, keeping a steady rhythm. Both their faces are flushed.

Sanji's voice is raspy as he repeats his coworker's name, over and over again. With a grunt, Zoro cums.

"Fuck--," Sanji moans out, following behind him with swift, thick ropes of white hot cum shooting out onto the bed. Luffy groans.

"Guys, I just washed that!!!"

You burst out a laugh. You can't help it. The tension having been released from the room, your shoulders relax completely, and you squeal in delight against Luffy's chest.

"This is so fun!" You gasp, turning your face into Luffy's pectoral muscle. He has a bright scar along his chest, marking an X over his solar plexus. You land a kiss on it, fiercely. "I have to come back."

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Epilogue:

Luffy leans over the counter in front of Lavender-sama, where she's peering through her reading glasses at a stack of papers. Her hair is pinned back on one side, revealing an ear and the diamond teardrop that dangles from it, sparkling at the side of her face. Her gold finger guards are placed carefully on her desk, next to a feather pen. She flicks sharp eyes up at him.

"No."

Luffy groans, slumping forward over the counter of her office. "Ya didn't even hear what I hafta say yet!" He melts like rubber into the marble surface. She snorts.

"Don't have to," she says, regarding him over the top of her crystalline glasses. She ticks an eyebrow. "You have a crush on her, don't you?"

Luffy stiffens. He stares at the madame, eyes blown. "How'd ya know, Laven-sama??"

She clicks her tongue, and sets down the paper she'd been holding. Her hands spread delicately across it, small fingers spread wide. She shakes her head, then smiles. Her lips are painted like coral.

"You only ever dance for clients, Luffy. Let alone fuck them."

He blushes, face beet red. "But--um...," he stutters, at a loss for words. He hadn't meant to fuck her, truly. She'd just been so...hot.

He'd spotted her across the bar, from where he'd been giving an older gentleman a lap dance. As soon as the song ended, and he'd collected his tip, he dashed over to get to her as soon as possible. There was no way he was gonna let Zoro take her first.

The threesome had been new for him, too, but he'd liked it. He'd done shows with both Zoro and Sanji before, so it's not like he'd been uncomfortable. He's usually pretty open about sex, anyway. But Laven-sama was right: Luffy only ever danced for the clients in his room. He sucks in his cheeks, chewing on his thoughts.

"Think she'll come back?" He asks quietly.

Lavender-sama's eyes soften. They twinkle violet in the rainbow lamplight. She sighs, and turns back to her paperwork.

"I hope so...for both our sakes."

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

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aforestescape · 7 days

Text

simon ‘ghost’ riley and johnny ‘soap’ mctavish x reader - adorable. now give them both a boyfriend

content includes: i want two boyfriends and i want the boyfriends to be boyfriends. male!reader or gn!reader; ‘boyfriend’ used for reader but no defined pronouns, eludes to sex

i was rambling with some online friends earlier about how great it’d be to have two bfs

more of them here.

beds: double cuddles. being the middle spoon is the best until it’s not…

in the beginning of your relationship napping and sleeping together is a bit awkward. not because you aren’t all comfortable with each other at this point; it’s the fact that none of you have a bed truly big enough to fit the three of you comfortably.

johnny is a clingy sleeper. large body seeking out whoever’s limbs are closest and koala-ing onto them. simon on the other hand prefers to spread out and seems to hate the feeling of covers or blankets over him. he sleeps naked most of the time and will kick all the covers off in his sleep. it’s not uncommon to find yourself waking between slumber and having to try and drag the blankets back over yourself. only to find your arm and/or leg stuck in johnnys hold that strengthens with your movement.

and they’re both just large. beefy and hairy men, taking up all the space on the bed. summer nights being the worst, even with the air con set to a staggering 16 degrees celsius. all that muscled mass and body fat, sticky skin and ticklish hair. growing boners pressed against tight skin, you can hardly get a well rested night.

no matter your size it’s never not a mess of limbs to untangle from come morning. only the fact that it’s them making you put up with the less than great sleeping arrangement.

but those are just the days you decide to sleep together in bed. of course there are nights when one of you decides to stay in your respective flat. or even rarer nights when you all manage to sleep on your own, nobody to share space with.

needless to say, when you all finally move in together you spend a good amount of money on a bed large enough for the three of you.

two times the love

one thing to be said about having two partners, you had double the chances for a person to put up with your jokes and attitude. after a particularly hard day at work, having to deal with your coworkers who were always a bit too nosey. somehow never understanding that you don’t owe them an introspective look into your life. especially your love life that they were keen on working out after they realized you were dating two attractive and well fit men.

coming into your home, grumbling as the door slams a little harder than normal behind you.

you let out a sigh of relief as you spend the rest of your night in the comfort of their bodies. simon letting you nuzzle your head into the heft of his arm. johnny running the palm of his hand over your head in a soothing manner, mumbling sweet words to you in his thick accent.

coming home to cuddle with them, play games, cook dinner together. your own little bubble in the world that made you feel safe. you were safe, they’d protect you even when you don’t need it.

“i’m glad we can all be gay together,” you say jokingly, voice muffled against simon’s arm.

———

another night spent in your kit, leaned against the counter with a cooler in your hands. johnny sitting on top of the island across from you and simon stood next to his spread legs. you watch fondly as you all chat, simons fingers splayed over johns thigh. squeezing in an absentminded gesture, stimming more than anything.

nowadays it was rare for you all to see each other at the same time. even though you’d finally all saved and scrapped change to move in together, a nice little house with a decent amount of land. enough space for a garden that you’d brought up wanting to start. how rewarding it’d feel to cook for each other with the foods you grew.

but a new place meant a shift in routines, having to grow around and between each other’s schedules. especially being in a relationship with multiple people, you’d learned how to work a calendar as best you could.

so you took the time to enjoy this. just you and your boys, drinking and filling your home with a new warmth that’d you’d already grown used to. easily recognized as the same warmth that squeezed in time with your heartbeat. you were pulled from your thoughts as your boyfriend laughed uproariously. simon giving johnny a warning tap on his leg.

“aye- im only teasin’ love.”

you watch simon roll his brown eyes before cutting over to you. “and what do you think of this? says everyone can use two more boyfriends.” simons voice is dry but you can tell he’s amused or maybe it’s the infectious laugh johnny had.

“hmm. two more men, that means john and kyle right? i think we’d need a bigger bed than the one we have now but i’m more than happy to share you idiots with them.”

falling into domestics

onto the topic of beds again. you’d already agreed it’d be an important investment. you spent a few days wondering if you should splurge upwards ten thousand for an alaskan king. a hefty price but it could be worth it.

that is until johnny brings up the fact that you can just make your own for cheaper. says he’d seen it online and it was a simpler and cheaper solution to your problem. with that out of the way you ordered two full sizes and a few different bed sets. you all ended up spending the most time on trying to find a bed frame than anything else.

coming home one day from running errands to find simon in the yard. rented table saw connected by an extension cord running to the house and a decent sized pile up of wood. some pieces already cut down the size and shape. you didn’t question him, not wanting to interrupt his process until later in the evening when you were having dinner.

when he gruffed out that he was making you a bed you were surprised. sharing a glance with johnny and then looking back at simon. biting your bottom lip as you’re struck with just how fucking hot that was. your boyfriend spending days in the hot sun to make a bed just for you to break in together.

simon agreed it was reward enough as you and johnny spent the first night in your new bed worshipping his body. hours of attention to his freckled and scarred skin. kissing, biting, and licking stripes up taut skin that had simons head tossed back into your pillows. whispering words of praise and love in his ears as you made love to him into the early morning hours.

delegating dates: i want my boyfriend to have a boyfriend and i want for them to go on boyfriend dates

you look up from behind your desktop monitor, watching as johnny ruffles his hand through his mohawk. he’d been growing out the hair, letting it shag down to the nape of his neck. you’d spent many hours running your fingers through the thick strands. pulling on his hair to bring him to your level for a kiss was quickly becoming a favorite activity of yours.

you watched in amusement as he spent minutes of time fiddling with his hair. somehow even after dating so long he still gets nervous to go on dates. it’s incredibly sweet, a sentiment you share with simon. as he runs product through his hair to get it managed you let your eyes drift over his body. your gaze darkening slightly at just how delicious your boyfriend looks.

you wish to yourself that you weren’t behind in your work pace so that you could enjoy just how good your partners looked tonight.

watching as simon has enough of johnny’s taking too long, stalking over to wrap his big arms over the smaller man’s waist. you watch quietly as simon leans his head down to mumble something in his ear, taking note of the shiver that runs over johns body.

you can feel your breath steal away just watching them love each other. so soft with one another, obvious affection for your eyes only to truly witness and understand. sometimes you’re really struck by how much you adore them. how utterly lucky you feel to be able to love them and in turn how they love you.

biting your lip, you slip your phone from your desk to take shots of them.

one of simons blonde head obscured into johnnys neck. johnnys pretty pink lips parted on a breath as he tilts his neck for him. another with johnnys pouted lips spreading into a grin. another click and they’re kissing, lips moving slowly with practiced effort.

it was truly like beholding art. some sort of feat and testament of the universes power to bring such gorgeous men together. to let them love one another in ways that simon and you could only ever grow up craving. a love that johnny so readily gave to you, a love he knew instantly upon meeting would be reserved for you two alone.

special edition: shared custody

before you move in together, riley is practically a child of divorce, the poor sweet pup. he’s simons biological child of course, but now you and johnny are his stepdads. so he’ll spend days between your flats. at first he’s not a big fan of all the traveling. but as soon as he realizes the long drives mean new places to explore he quickly perked up.

now he looks forward to weekends at yours or johnnys. a different path to take, somehow something’s always just a little different for him to be bound with energy on walks. and your place is near a pets store. if he wasn’t a better behaved pup, he’d try dragging you to the door everytime you get close to it. but since he is a good boy instead he’ll give you the saddest eyes. nosing your pants leg to get your attention as if you would skip getting him a treat.

okay but we had such a good and silly conversation about what we’d do with two partners and😭 i have so many more thoughts. also i’m a pet play ghoap truther👆🏽so if/when i write more for this expect it

#ghoap x reader #ghoap x male reader #simon riley x male reader #johnny mctavish x male reader #cod x male reader #ghoap x you #aforestescape

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treeba-rk · 27 days

Note

a small collection of shit the tumblr treebark community has tagged about cc!renchanting. Everyone feel free to contribute, many of these are pretty recent (from the infinite pining era), not from old posts!

#omg just call him hes not your ex #i think about this so much. bro really was just like man that guy was weird. i think i’m in lo— #also this was very heterosexual of martyn. #relationship goals (they are not dating) #I hate them so much I fucking hate them #MARTYN WHEN I CATCH YOU MARTYN #can martyn like get a job #is this real?? #never a boring day following martyn on Tumblr #once again im reblogging the gayest ass mcyt fanart from none other than martyn in the little wood #martyn this is a really gay post to reblog /silly #its the single pathetic bisexual dogboy swag # everyone say thank youse to false #theyre having gay sex in that box. ok! #this is why joel betrayed dogwarts right at the start #fellas is it gay to do Whatever this is #treebark in the eyes of those around them is apparently horrifying #the server has chemicals in the water that turns the fucking ccs gay for Ren diggity Dog #Jesus christ #martyn intheliitlewood what are you doing in my falafal #I almost went full crazy insane treebark fangirl in the tags until I saw martyn inthelittlewood official reblogged it #SOMETIMES YOU GOTTA ENTER YOUR SLUT ERA AND THAT IS FINE TOO #fuckin slay martyn go kiss men Now we just pray he doesn't find the smut artists and find out people assume he's a bottom #he broke into our house and won’t leave :( turns out he’s the one who built the house? i think that’s why we let him stay #‘classic treebark bait’ MY ASS #martyn that shit is straight out of a fanfic #i think martyn can lurk in treebark tag if he wants #martyn once again outing himself as a renboy #shoutout to cherri for the renchanting propaganda god bless #WTF REN YOU CANT DO THIS TO US #they make me homophobic #mans woke up in a cold sweat checked his tumblr askbox wrote That and then fucked off for the rest of the day like nothing happened #the m in martyn stands for manic pixie dream girl #people be normal in the tags challenge: failed #why is martyn writing fanfiction and putting it on my dash at 3 am? #Top 10 Signs You Should Dm Him:#Number 1: you're writing fanfiction in tumblr ask box answers

this is an incredible collection and i am flabbergasted by how you keep track of this. treebarkblr is hilarious

<3 <3 <3

#ask box #answered #treebark #save #trafficshipping

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kasagia · 4 months

Text

❄️️Warm my heart pt. 7❄️️

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/ The Darkling x fem! heartrender! reader Summary: The truth sets you free… sometimes even if you don't want it to. (Belated) Merry Christmas!! There is a one last part left to this story... Word Count: 4,3 k Taglist:@aoi-targaryen @budugu @flostvs1508 @chelseyyouraverageluigi ~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova’s Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 6 ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 8 ~•♤♤♤•~

"Leave me alone, Fedyor!" you shout at the heartrender, who somehow managed to find you in the crowded city. Christmas was in a few days, and the residents of Os Alta took to the streets to buy the rest of the gifts at the last minute.

Tomorrow, you would have probably been among them too, picking up a gift for the general, if it weren't for the conversation with that old witch who tormented you in your youth when she was your mentor and trainer.

"C'mon, Y/N. We need to go back to the Little Palace."

Fedyor grabs your arm, trying to pull you away from the bar. But you don't let yourself be distracted from your place. Instead, you pour him a glass of alcohol and hand it to him, clinking your glass against his.

"How is it that the guy I like always turns out to be a red flag? Is it because of our keftas? Do we always end up with a man fitting our outfit?"

"Oh, saints... I thought you were a little more sober." he sighs and downs his drink, sitting down next to you. You lean against him, nuzzling into his shoulder as you continue your drunken accusations and complaints.

"I am sober! I am finally sober, Freddy!"

"Fedyor." he corrects you, smiling in amusement at your cute drunken state.

"Whatever." you say and drink a shot. "The point is... that men suck." you speak in a very serious tone, as if revealing a great secret to him.

"Hey!" he says, acting indignant and playfully pushing away from you. This makes you lose your balance a bit, and you grab the wooden bar counter with all your strength.

"Not you! I mean, not gays. Well, Ivan too, since you both argued, but… Ugh! You know what I mean." you lean on his shoulder as he tries to lead you out of the bar without you noticing.

"Yeah, I can imagine." he obediently agrees and puts your cloak on you before leading you out into the streets of Os Alta.

"What I want to say is that I am finally sober from my stupid feelings, crushes, and everything I was feeling since I've started to work with that damn bastard."

"Who the hell made you hate him so much?"

"Myself. And woman. A really wise woman. We should listen to women more!" you shout, hugging him tight as you lose your balance in a rush of emotions.

"Y/N. Let's get home. Before you fall and smash your head on the ground."

"I should've taken Zoya with me. She knows how to have fun. Not like others. And she also hates him! Alina probably too. We can start a club! The club: 'I hate the Darkling." you mumble in your drunken state, holding on to Fedyor for dear life as he leads you to the Little Palace.

He thanks all the saints above for not noticing that you two are passing through the gates of the palace.

"You don't hate him. You are just hurt for some reason. I can't tell why, but I guess you should go and talk with him about anything that happened."

"You have the right!" you agree with him enthusiastically, and he frowns in surprise. From the combative and defiant way you expressed your sudden aversion and hatred for the general in the bar, he expected you to fight him at all costs. "Let's go!" his eyes widen at your words, in realisation that you weren't on a peaceful path to reconciliation at all.

You push away from him and stagger towards the general's chambers.

"No! Y/N! Wait! Not now." he says panicked and runs after you. He grabs you by the collar and pulls you back before you hit the wall.

He sighs, realising that it won't be that easy for him to convince you to go to your own chambers instead of going and arguing with Kirigan.

Aleksander was returning from a meeting with the king, to which Ivan had dragged him. He was angry at this old fool for interfering in the affairs of him and the Little Palace. Or, actually, he was so angry that he had to leave your warm arms and soft lips to deal with this royal asshole for three hours.

All he wanted was to come back to you. He secretly hoped that maybe he would find you completely naked in his bed or in his warm bathtub, waiting for him.

But when he reached his chambers, he didn't find you at all.

"Y/N?" he asks as he comes inside. He walks past the war room and kncoks on the table in case you didn't hear him walking inisde. "Y/N?"

He looks into his library, his dressing room, his bedroom, and even his bathroom (yes, he was a fool who never gave up hope), but you are nowhere to be found.

"Y/N?!" he shouts, returning to the war room. His heartbeat sped up dramatically. You weren't here. You were supposed to wait for him.

Aleksander had to find you. You wouldn't just leave without leaving a note—nothing. On the other hand, he didn't notice any signs of a fight or a skirmish in his chambers. You simply vanished. You disappeared. Like you've never been here. Like all the moments he shared with you, they were only an imagination of his mad mind. For a moment, he felt like he had lost all his common sense.

He put on the kefta again, which he threw off as soon as he arrived. He was adjusting his collar when he stopped, alarmed, hearing a noise in the corridor.

Just in case, he summons his shadows and leaves the chamber with his black shadows dancing around his fingers. He leaned out slightly, scanning the corridor, ready to cut in half whoever dared to take you from him again. He sighs in relief when he sees you on Fedyor's shoulder as you say something to him.

For a moment, he was terrified. That they came for you again, that someone took you from him again, that something happened to you again and he wasn't there in time to save you... or that you wanted to run away from him and leave him like so many others.

Like Luda or Ulla.

"Y/N." he sighs with relief. Your eyes widen as you see him.

He was walking towards you, but he stopped when he saw betrayal, bitterness, and rage shining in your eyes instead of the loving gaze he used to receive.

But that wasn't what worried him most. That was your look—the same look he got from many people in his youth when they found out he was a shadow summoner. Except that your disgusted, angry look hurt him more than any of the people's glances at him, his mother's scoldings and taunts, or the wound from the blades they tried to kill him with.

He sees how you tense up at the sight of him, watching his every little move carefully. He felt anxious, a shiver running through him as he was greeted with your hostility instead of the sweet smile with which you said goodbye to him. And he had no idea where your change in attitude had come from.

Something was wrong…

"There it is! The liar! The bastard! The walking devil himself!" you shout, walking towards him.

You trip over your feet, and he automatically takes a few steps forward to catch you in his arms before you land on the floor. He looks at you carefully, and by the strong smell of alcohol coming from you and your flushed cheeks, he perceives your condition.

He completely forgot about your hostility. For now, his priority was keeping you safe and comfortable. Firstly, he just needed to understand the reason for your drunkenness. When it turns out that nothing terrible has happened (such as the sudden death of one of your family members), then he can cope with that sinister glint in your eyes that appears each time your gaze meets his.

"Is she just drunk or something bad happened?" he asks Fedyor, confused, as he finally get together enough to say something.

"YOU! That's what happened! You are the worst fucking man I have ever felt in love with." his heart skips a beat at your drunken confession. He wanted to hear it; he had secretly craved it for some time, but certainly not under these circumstances...

"C'mon, milaya. Let's take you to bed." he whispers, nodding at Fedyor to leave. Heartrender bows to him and heads towards his chambers, leaving you two alone. He gently hugs you and leads you back to his chambers.

You lean on him, and for a moment, everything seems okay as he sits you down on his bed and kneels in front of you to untie your shoes. But when your eyes meet his face again, you go into a kind of fury, kicking him and moving away from him as far as possible.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!"

"What happened to you?!" he asks, bursting out. He doesn't understand your sudden hostility, how your attitude towards him changed in a matter of minutes—hours, actually—and how suddenly all your love and affection just... stopped existing for him.

"You!" you shout, pointing your finger at him. You wobble on your feet, and at the last moment, he comes over to catch you. This time, you let him place you on his bed and take care of you.

"More details, please." he sighs in anguish, making sure you're comfortable for the rest of the night. Whatever wrong you think he's done, no matter how mad you are at him, he won't let you escape his watchful eye like this. He would keep you safe even if you pointed a damn shotgun at him.

"I had a really nice conversation with Baghra." he freezes, halfway through unbuttoning your coat. Baghra talked to you. His mother, who hated his insides. Various scenarios and stories that she could have told you run through his head. He's glad you're telling him that when you're drunk. At least this will give him time to prepare his counter-speech until you sober up and can have a serious conversation. He just hopes that Baghra hasn't had time to make you completely hate him and to turn you against him in the few hours he's been gone. "That's it, you lying traitor! I know everything!"

"Y/N... it's not what it looks like..."

"Of course! Yes! How was I so blind to fall for your lying tongue?! I believed your sad stories and cute, puppy-like eyes, like some stupid, naive girl. Ugh! I stayed with you for damn Christmas, so that you don't feel lonely and could enjoy the holidays for probably the first time in your damn life instead of visiting my little brother!"

He doesn't respond to your words. He just holds your hand and strokes it gently as you continue to drunkenly mutter whatever's on your mind. And he listens carefully, focusing his attention on all the noteworthy words that will help him understand at least a little about how you feel and how he can fix the mess that this mad witch called his mother has gotten him into.

"I just thought you would turn out to be a better man." you whisper disappointedly, snuggling into his pillow. He finds the sight both endearing and heartbreaking.

He sighs and presses a kiss on your forehead, running his hand through your hair as you sleep deeply.

He won't lose you. Many people turned away from him; he let many of them go; he also lost many, but you won't be one of them. He may be selfish, but he's fed up with loneliness, and with you... with you, he feels like a completely different person. Someone he was before centuries of life shaped him into the man he is now. A general who was supposed to take care only of his Grisha, no matter what. A man who knew that power was something that had to be tamed, something that could not be allowed to go uncontrolled, and with you, he had lost too much of that control lately.

He had to fix everything.

And the sight of your tears drying on your cheek and neck, where he had placed tender kisses hours earlier, made him realise where he needed to start.

"You're already crawling here? I thought you'd be chasing your precious little heart first." his mother said this as he stood at the entrance to her cottage. She was finishing packing. A few years ago, he would have thanked the Saints for finally getting rid of her, but now he was glad he had made it before she left.

"Did you think I would just let you leave? That I'll let you escape and hide in a hole while I put out the fires you start?"

"I don't need anyone's permission. Besides, I doubt you'll be able to put out this fire. This little girl is quite a gasoline. She didn't need much to understand what she got herself into. Or to run away." he laughs mockingly as he steps inside. He leaves the door open to get on her nerves.

"Then, with great pleasure, I am here to say that she is back and sleeping peacefully in my bed."

"Stupid girl." she mutters under her breath and closes her bag. She throws it over her shoulder and finally turns to face him. "And what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be keeping an eye on her? After all, she can tell your little secret to the Sun Summoner. And then your plans…"

"I trust her." he says confidently, staring defiantly at his mother. "She won't do anything against me." he adds, feeling the necklace you gave him under his kefta and remembering the countless times you stood by his side, the countless times you showed him your devotion and affection.

"She trusted Kirigan. Not Aleksander." she notices. Aleksander feels bile rising in his throat and uncertainty, but he quickly shakes off the feeling, knowing that causing it is the purpose of his mother's words. And he learned better than to continue listening to her poison.

"She will trust the real me too."

They both stare at each other, waiting to see who will give in and whose defence will be low enough to strike a blow. This was mainly how conversations with his mother went. Eternal strategies, planning the next step, careful observation, and most importantly, keeping a mask and not expressing any real feelings and thoughts.

Maybe if he hadn't created the fold, things would have been different between them. But it wasn't. And he didn't know what hurt him more—that he had lost his only support over the centuries or that he couldn't just let her go or hate her completely as she deserved.

"After you lied to her? I doubt it. Remember what I told you? That greedy man may be terrible, but..."

"But there is nothing like a mad woman." he finishes for her, rolling his eyes at her poor attempt to make him doubt or dislike you in any way. "I have nothing to worry about."

"Then you should watch out for her. She may be Grisha, but she's as dead as we are, as is Miss Starkov. It's easy for something to happen to your precious little second-in-command."

"Be careful with your words." he growls menacingly, taking a step towards her. He glares at her with his evil gaze, but it does nothing for her. He knows he won't hurt her, just as she won't attack him... at least not yet. "If you put her in harm's way... think about what I might do..." an unspoken threat hangs between them.

"You were pathetic. You are pathetic. And you will always be pathetic, Aleksander."

He almost flinches at her remark. The eternal dispute between them. About Aleksander's attachment to people. Even the most fragile and weak ones, when Baghra abandoned her own children when they were not strong enough... Like she did with Ulla.

"Just like you'll always be alone, mother." he points this out and is happy to see the slight change in her facial expression as her mocking smirk disappears from her face for a moment. His small victory.

Baghra doesn't respond to his words. Shadows engulf the cabin, and before he knows it, she is gone, leaving him alone inside. He clenches his fists and spreads the shadows with a sweeping movement of his hand. He sighs, wondering how much Baghra told you was true about him and how much she made up to paint him as a power-hungry monster in your eyes.

He returns to the Little Palace in the morning. He's waiting for you to wake up, trying to read some reports and finish writing orders, but he can't bring himself to do it. All he thinks about is you, what he will tell you, how you will react, and whether you will hate him like his mother wanted you to.

When you finally wake up, he feels both delighted that his torment is over and concerned that he will have to talk to you soon. He walks up to you and hands you a cup of water and some hangover medicine.

But you don't accept it from him. Instead, you stare at him uncertainly, distrust shining brightly in your eyes, piercing his heart. He swallows, trying to get rid of the feeling of pain.

"You are aware I am the same man I was 24 hours ago?" he asks jokingly, setting the glass and medications on the nightstand next to you. He doesn't sit on the bed; he stands next to it, giving you some space. He must act methodically and carefully. Approaching you like a deer… or stag.

"No, you are not." you say it stubbornly, glancing at the things he left on the bedside table.

You raise a glass and look at the drugs carefully. Fortunately, he refrains from snorting, disbelieving that Baghra only needed a few hours of conversation to turn you against him. YOU. The only person he showed the parts of Aleksander hidden deeply in the darkest parts of himself from the world.

"Y/N... please. I just want to talk."

"About what? How have you been lying to me?" she asks him hostilely, looking at him defiantly. He knows that look and attitude. He had seen you like this more than once, when you were interrogating the Fjerdans they had captured. He never wanted to be at their place. And there he was.

"About how can I fix the way you think about me because of my mother, who isn't as much of my fan as you can guess now?"

"Well, at least now I know who you inherited this attitude from." you huff, getting out of bed. You reach for your folded kefta on the chair he left for you and start to put it on yourself.

"I beg your pardon? I am nothing like her."

"You even wrinkle your nose in the same way when something irritates or annoys you." you point it out, and he chuckles bitterly, shaking his head as he walks over to you. It's not too close, though. After yesterday, he knows better than to try to treat you with the same tenderness as before. Even if he desperately wants to.

"It's been many years since I thought of us as being anything remotely similar... of course, instead of being shadow summoners, immortals, and Morozovas."

"Wait, Morozova? Like... like the stag of Morozova?"

"Yes. Like the stag of my grandfather." he admits, shocking you even more. He watches the gears in your head turn as you uncover the hidden truth, connecting the lies Baghra told you with what he managed to reveal to you about himself.

"So not only are you… a Black Heretic, but you're also Morozova's grandson?"

"Y/N... I know it can seem complicated for you..."

"No! No. Nothing is complicated. You... you created the fold. And now you chase the stag to get its bones so you can amplify your and Alina's power to have full control of the fold. To take control of Ravka and call yourself a king."

"That's... not exactly the truth." he says, taking a step towards you. You automatically move away from him, and he clenches his jaw in frustration and anger at his mother and you for so easily believing Baghra's words.

"And what should I've believed in? You've been lying to me all this time!"

"Telling you half a story is not the same as lying." he defends himself, now staring at you with an equally obstinate gaze as you both stubbornly stick to your opinion.

"Maybe in your point of view, but not in mine." he sighs at your words, running a hand through his hair. You see his shadows hovering in the corners of his chambers as he stares at you in annoyance.

"I do not understand your behaviour. Nothing happened. You know that I was slowly revealing pieces of myself and my past. I guess you didn't expect me to tell you right away that I am... a Black Heretic. That I had lived a hundred lives, that I had to be reborn each time as somebody else to keep my existence in hiding. What other choice did I have?"

"That's the problem, Aleksander, you don't see any other solutions. You go with what is easiest for you." he huffs furiously and walks over to you. You fall back, bumping into a wall.

"Yes, because fawning over the king for hundreds of years to keep my Grisha safe is the easiest thing to do. You have no idea what I went through to give my people what we have now. If it weren't for me, you would be running away from Ravkans, Fjerdans, Shu Hans, and other beasts that want us dead or experiment on us. You don't know what it's like to go hungry, to have no roof over your head, to fear every day for your life and the lives of your loved ones, to see them die, and to bury every single person you have ever cared about. And do you know why? Because thanks to me, Grisha are now treated better than animals." he's now standing exactly a step away from you, breathing heavily with anger as he glares at you defiantly. He doesn't touch you, but you feel his heavy breath on your cheek.

"Creating a golden cage from the fold will not make us safe. You cannot isolate yourself from all evil and danger. You have to fight it. I never thought you were a coward, Aleksander. Don't make me believe you're really someone else."

You manage to push him past so you can walk towards the exit. He grabs your elbow, stopping you from leaving. Not hard enough to bruise, but enough to make you stop right there.

"What are you going to do?" he asks after a moment of heavy silence between the two of you, staring intensely at the back of your head, waiting for any movement from you.

"Nothing. You are still my general. Besides, I doubt anyone would believe me if I tried to tell the world who you really are. And don't worry. I won't tell Alina that you want to claim her power to yourself."

"It's not like that at all…"

"DON'T." you say furiously and sharply, turning to him slowly to meet his gaze. It takes all of your strength to hold back your tears that are also shining in his eyes. “Don't lie to me anymore.”

"Milaya..." he whispers desperatly, trembling as he is reaching to cup your cheek in his hand, but you pull away from him before his fingertips can touch your skin.

"If you want to prove that Baghra lied, that you weren't pretending to be a boy hurt by the world just because you were looking for some sick feeling of comfort or normality from me... if you want to prove that I'm not another Luda for you, someone who only reminds you of your great love, then prove it to me. Prove that you are a better man than Baghra taught you to be and describes you."

"The world needs a monster to change, Y/N, not a saint or hero."

"You are good, Aleksander." you say, taking a step towards him and cupping his cheeks with both of your hands. His beard tickles you a little, but you don't mind as you stroke his skin with your thumbs, keeping those dark, teary irises focused entirely on you. "I see it every time. In your patience with the little Grisha, in your concern for the well-being of each of us, in how sweet and protective you are around the people you care about... in the fact that despite hundreds of years, you still have a fragment of humanity preserved. You don't have to be rough. You don't have to be evil and ruthless. Baghra taught you that you won't survive by showing weakness and taking care of the people you outlive, but you are not like her. You are not a monster. Please don't prove me wrong. Don't prove to me that you don't care who suffers, Ravkans, Fjerdans, or others, as long as you win and achieve your goal, however honourable and glorious it may seem." you whisper the last sentence shakily and tilt his head, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead. You close your eyes for a moment, absorbing his warmth and scent and memorising it.

You finally pull away from him and leave his chambers without looking back. He gives you a longing look and closes his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. His eyes land on the plans spread out on his war table.

And he can't help but wonder: Is everything he has worked for all these centuries worth standing utterly alone at the end of his glorious purpose?

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m2ok · 1 year

Text

Simon “Ghost” Riley Headcannons

Simon Riley X M!Reader

A/N: the man, the myth, the legend. His time has come and he won’t be spared from my gay agenda.

I’m so sorry y’all, but he would not be easy to get with. I think the only way you’d be able to even attract him was if you were part of the 141 task force.

It would take a very long time to even be his friend. He’s not a very trusting person especially of new people, and he would be wary of you at first. He’d do a thorough background check himself to make sure you wouldn’t comprise the team.

It would start with him trusting you as a teammate, just as he does the other men. Eventually you’d lead up to some light banter with him through comms on missions, dumb little jokes exchanged that neither of you laughed at but still found amusing.

I think it would take legitimate years to get to the point of dating him. He’d be very hesitant about getting into a romantic relationship with you. He’s just been closed off for so long it’s not something he ever put much thought into.

Not gonna lie I think he’d be in denial about his sexuality. I don’t think he would be homophobic because I genuinely think he does not care about that kind of thing, but I think he’d have trouble coming to terms with himself liking other guys.

The beginning would definitely have its issues. I don’t think he would be a cold or uncaring lover, I mean he’d have to care for you very deeply to even entertain a relationship, but he would be terrible with communicating anything.

He doesn’t really understand his own feelings so trying to navigate that and your own would overwhelm him at first. Lots of late night talks about how you should go about this and how to make the relationship work.

When things finally settled down and you fell into a nice rhythm he’d start with the actual romance aspect of your relationship.

Absolutely no pda whatsoever, but alone in one of your rooms? He’d be all over you. He hasn’t felt human touch that was soft and kind and gentle in so long and now that he finally has it he finds it hard to let go.

He likes holding you in his arms, completely engulfing you with himself because he wants to protect you and he knows that if you’re wrapped up in him nothing can harm you.

Since he’s not great at communicating he would talk through his actions. He would make you a cup of tea/coffee in the morning just the way you like it, he’d wash your clothes when he did his own just to help you out a little, bring you water if he noticed you hadn’t had enough that day. Just small, simple things to show you that he loves you.

Please tell him you’re proud of him, that he’s come so far and that he’s a good man. He loves words of affirmation especially from you. He grew up never really getting that so now he subconsciously craves it as an adult. He just wants to know he’s doing a good job.

I don’t think he would outwardly blush or get flustered, but he’d feel it inside like his heart beat would get louder and he’d look away from you.

Showed you his face before he showed the rest of the team. You were probably just lounging around one night, cuddling on the couch with your legs in his lap and his hands on your thighs. Talking about whatever you did that day when he’d reach up and just pull it over.

He was nervous that you didn’t like what you saw since you were quiet for a good number of seconds, and he immediately started preparing himself for you ending the relationship.

So when you reached over and cupped his face like he was made of porcelain he was shocked. Eyes all wide and staring into yours as you took in every feature of his face. The few freckles, the scars, the light stubble, even his little dimples. You were committing all of it to memory.

“You’re so….” You were at a loss for words and that once again terrified him. What if you decided after looking at him long enough that you didn’t like him?

“Pretty. Handsome. The most breathtaking person I’ve ever seen” he’d absolutely melt in your arms. Wouldn’t let you go for the rest of the night.

He’s not a good kisser. I’m so sorry but this man is so out of practice and awkward with it. He’s a quick learner, though, and he’d catch on to what you like quickly and adapt to that.

Loves kissing you. Doesn’t even have to be on the lips, though that’s one of his favorites. Foreheads kisses are also on the top tier list for him especially if you’re shorter than him. It’s just easy access.

If you’re taller than him he’ll grab you by the collar and yank you down to kiss your forehead anyways. Either way it’s getting a lil smooch every hour on the hour.

Before you came along he thought he would just stay in the military until he eventually died, but with you being around he found that he has more to live for now than just his job. He wants to settle down with you eventually, though not anytime soon.

He wants to live in a nice little house with you far away from civilization. I think this man would thrive with a small farm. It would keep him busy everyday and give just a bit more purpose to his life, plus I don’t think he’d do well with no work to do after he leaves the military.

I cant see him being extremely good with woodworking like Price is, but I think he’d be able to do simple things like shelves, maybe a night stand or a small cabinet.

I think if he took up any sort of woodwork it would be whittling. I can see him sitting outside on the porch, in an old beat up wooden rocking chair carving a little animal out of a piece of wood and his favorite pocket knife. The little critters would be all over your house and he’d carve the both of you out of your favorite animals to keep on the table.

All in all I think it would take a very long time to get with him and to fully adjust into a relationship, but once it does he’s just a gentle, loving man.

As always, requests are open.

#ghost x male reader #simon ghost riley x male reader #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x male reader #ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #cod imagine #cod fanfic #cod x reader #cod x male reader #cod modern warfare #male reader

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pollyna · 7 months

Text

Tom is fifty-one when he enters a tattoo parlour for the first time. He says "Hello, I'm here to fix an appointment for a tattoo", showing the girl behind the desk two pictures of a robot. He walks out, ten minutes later, with $100 of deposit left behind and an appointment for two weeks from that moment.

(To be there at that time, he has to reschedule half of the meetings and the hirings that day so that his secretary looks at him like he lost his mind for the rest of the day.)

(At the tattoo patrol, Mindy signs the appointment as "Tom the hot dilf", Caleb laughs, "So you want this one?" and Mindy answers, "If you don't let me tattoo him, I'm going to make sure you're not available that day." All smiles and sunshine

(Mindy can be scary when she wants.)

It's Wednesday, and Tom is early, but what's new about that? Mindy is already waiting for him, a cup of coffee between her hands while she explains her ideas for the tattoos he showed her.

"What's the story behind this?" she asks, while she starts tracing the lines on Tom's body.

"I'm-" Tom starts before stopping once and then a second time.

"Sorry, I'm noisy. Don't feel like you have to share." She smiles, biting the inside of her cheek, trying not to blush too much.

"No, it's not a problem. I'm not very used to talking about this stuff with strangers," he answers a couple of seconds later, making a strange expression when the needles trace over a particularly sensitive area on his skin. "I'm in the Navy, and I'm gay. I thought that the Navy would have been my whole life, with nothing behind it, and if something was not surely the family I wanted, then something happened, and I got the whole package: a husband and baby. We were watching the iron giant when he presented me with the papers to legally become his dad. A little after that, he walked out our door, and I hadn't seen him for ten years. And now I'm in a position comfortable enough to get a tattoo because the only person who's going to ask me to strip when I'm at work is my doctor, and I know him for long enough; he won't rattle me out," he finishes, laughing softly. "I hope—I know getting inked won't solve the situation, but I hope my boy will like it whenever he sees it."

Mindy has to stop working to pick up a couple of tissues for Tom and herself.

"I'm sure he is going to love it."

"I really hope so; I really do."

(Mindy gives a brownie to Tom with all the instructions on how to take care of the tattoo, and she gets to give him a hug too, just before he walks out of the shop. When Tom hugs her back, she thinks the guy, whoever he is, must have been the luckiest son of a bitch because her dad never gave him such a food hug.

Three years later, a tall, curly guy walks in, followed by a man she is sure she has already seen somewhere.

"Tom!" She smiles. "It's unfair how you got even hotter since the last time I saw you," she says, all cheeky and smiley.

A man behind Tom, whom she hadn't noticed before, laughs. "Yeah, Tom, you get unfairly hot for sure," he says, looking at the man, batting his long eyelashes, and smiling all sweetly at him.

"Please, dads, not here too," the taller guy says, a hand already covering his face. "Can you guys stop flirting for two seconds? Please?"

"To be fair, I would flirt with him too, and even more openly, if he were my husband," Mindy answers. "So you're the kid?"

"Yeah," he says, a hand flying to his pocket. "I would like to take an appointment to have this tattooed."

He says this, showing her a drawing of a bolt.

"I have a spot now, if you want. One client cancelled their appointment yesterday."

The guy smiles at her before turning to the two men. "You don't have to stick around; I can take a cab home after."

"Nah, baby goose, we will get cosy on the couch and wait for you," the short man answers before taking Tom's hand in his and turning towards the couch.

"See you later, baby goose," Tom adds, a hand on his cheek. "We're going where you left us."

The guy smiles softly, almost a little lost. "I see you later than, papa."

The last thing Mindy sees before closing the door behind them is Tom kissing the other man's forehead while his hands rest over the place Mindy tattooed Tom years ago.

#it's not specified but the robot in question is the iron giant #because that movie always make me cry a lot and this morning i discovred vin disel was its voice!#if the timeline is linear bradley was 17 when the move got realised so yeah he could have given the papers to ice #tom iceman kazansky #pete maverick mitchell #icemav #bradley rooster bradshaw #tom iceman kazansky is dad shaped #tattoos #found family #a lil disfunctional and still trying to get back on their feet #mav flirts with ice in everyway he can

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xxshadowbabexx · 2 months

Text

Melodrama: Green Light

Inspired by Melodrama by Lorde

Part one (this), part two, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven, part eight, part nine, part ten, part eleven

Warnings: heavy angst, cheating, smut, drinking, self harm, suicidal ideation, unhealthy coping mechanisms, eventual happy ending, warnings may be updated.

You do your makeup in Ghost’s car. It wasn’t often your boyfriend- if you could still call him that- invited you out with his squad. Ghost had been sent to pick you up, and now you were about ten minutes away from the bar.

You know how the night will play out, the same way it always does. With you both ordering different drinks and with him getting hammered. Then, naturally, he’ll start to lean into his lieutenants touch a little more. It’s nothing suspicious of course, they’re close after all.

Too close.

You knew there must be more there. Between long nights and near death experiences, there was no way they wouldn’t cling to each other like a lifeline. You’d just yet to catch them.

He told you that you were crazy every time you brought it up, and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was all your fault. Maybe he got scared when you kissed him like you needed him to breathe on the dance floor, or maybe it was how you clung to his lifeless body as you fell asleep.

And you know, oh, you know. You could leave him here to pick up the pieces, but you’d still see him everywhere. You could run as far as your legs would carry you, but you’d still feel his ghost in your bed when you’re lonely at night. You could collect your things, but you could never let go. You can never let go.

After what felt like a lifetime, or two, you arrive at the bar. Johnny’s face lights up as you enter, and you can’t help but let yourself think it’s because he sees you. But of course, he makes a beeline for Simon motherfucking Riley.

They embrace, all too comfortable for anyone but lovers and your eyes roll. You smile at Gaz and Price and wave lightly at them. Price nods back Gaz gets up to give you a hug.

“It’s been a long time, good to see ya,”

You smile back at him, “Yeah it has, hasn’t it? ��How’ve you been holding up?” You ask and he shrugs, saying he’s about so-so.

You turn back to Johnny, only to see he still hasn’t looked at you. Too caught up in the enormous presence of a Ghost. You wish you couldn’t be bothered to care anymore, but it’s not that simple.

You take perch on the barstool next to Gaz and to your surprise, Johnny sits next to you. It shouldn’t be surprising, really, what boyfriend wouldn’t want to sit next to their girlfriend? Johnny, of course.

You hate being jealous, and you hate being bitter, but you can’t help but be both.

Maybe if you were prettier, or stronger. Fuck, maybe he’s just gay, but couldn’t he tell you that? Tell you that he doesn’t want this anymore instead of getting dicked down by his lieutenant behind your back?

You could lose yourself in the “maybe’s”, and sometimes you do. But you’re determined to be present tonight. Maybe then he’ll see you, and want you back. Or maybe he’ll give you that green light and you can finally go.

Either way, at least he’ll finally see you.

The bartender comes, and you all order your drinks. A dry martini for you, and bourbon for the rest. They’re such basic men you almost scoff, but you hope you can taste it on Johnny’s tongue later. Assuming that he’s coming home with you.

“So what’ve you been up to lately?” Gaz asks you and you shrug.

“I’ve been staying at my friends a lot I guess, she went through a breakup so I’m jus trying to be there for her,” a half-truth, but you don’t need to elaborate. Not nearly tipsy enough to admit that it’s also because you hate how empty the house feels when Johnny isn’t there.

You take a sip of your drink, “anyways, what’s new with you all?”

“Ah well Captains got a little thing going with this cutie from the gym,” Gaz speaks up, earning him a deadly glare from Price.

“No I do not, it’s nothing,”

“Awh is the captain falling in love?” you tease, ignoring how your heart clenches at the thought of love. You can’t help but think of when Johnny loved you.

What a fucking liar.

Price laughs “Definitely not, sweetheart, ‘m not looking for anything like that,”

You shrug, “Sometimes love comes from unexpected places,”

And that’s when Johnny speaks. “That’s right. Definitely comes from unexpected places,” only he’s not looking at you when he says it, he’s looking into Ghost’s eyes.

As the night drags on, you can’t help but notice how every time you make a joke or a jest, Ghost says in louder, and only then does Johnny hear it, laughing like a lovestruck fool.

It hurts and it burns and it aches.

And you hate it.

Your grip on the martini glass steadily increases with each drink. And the more tipsy you get, the more you can see it. The green light, begging you to go. Begging you to find someone who cares. Begging for you.

But still, it remains out of reach. A mere temptation of what could be if you knew what was good for you. And you feel sick. You hate knowing he’s got you like this when he seems so unaffected.

He stares into Ghost’s eyes, and you stare into the green light. Praying for it to come closer.

Taglist

@theloneshadow24 @frogtowne @reap3erslov3 @ladyxtiger @whitetiger846

#call of duty #ghostsoap #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #simon riley #cod soap #soap x reader #soap cod #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #captain john price #john price #captain price #call of duty x reader #gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick #gaz cod

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ninebluehearts · 1 year

Note

Hi can I request a agent whiskey/ jack Daniel x plus!size reader. So the reader is an agent and is working with everyone that is trying to take down the drug cartel the reader is an agent and is a badass at doing her work so maybe she is in love with jack maybe one day they introduce a new agent to the team she is a girl she is thin blond with pretty blue eyes let’s just say all the guy’s welcome her and so does the reader the reader notices jack flirting with the new agent so when they have to do a small mission to get more information about the drug cartel they have to go under cover at a club and the reader has to flirt with the target the rest they just pair up into 2 teams so they are gonna be in the club make sure nothing goes wrong because their target has back up maybe theres a little fighting when the reader wears a dress she gets insecure because she sees the new girl and her dress and how it fits perfectly on her so maybe the new agent and jack had to play as a fake couple for the mission but what the reader doesn’t know is that jack is in love with the reader so maybe when they are fighting the reader gets stabbed in the leg when they get back she gets checked out jack wouldn’t leave the reader side and the doctor said she should be fine while in the infirmary the reader confesses her love for jack maybe it could end with them dating.(this might be to long uhh you could write it if you want it’s fine will if you don’t)

Sure thing, my love!! I'm so sorry this took so long!!

Warnings: Violence, blood, etc. (no smut)

-------------------------------------------------------

"You've gotta be kidding me.." You mumbled, staring at the group of men that were all huddled around the newest agent of Statesmen: Agent Malibu.

Malibu had honey blonde hair that practically glowed in the sunlight; the thick, wavy locks looked softer than a feather.

Which paired well with her deep, ocean blue eyes, the kind that you could swim in for hours, not even knowing you were drowning.

Even better, she had a perfect figure- she was thick where it mattered, like her thighs and hips, but her thin waist and long legs really completed the look.

It all made your stomach turn.

What made everything worse was that Agent Whiskey was in that crowd of men, supposedly 'welcoming her.'

Though you saw the grin he had- it was the same one he had given you when you first began working for Statesmen. Regrettably, you were engaged at the time, so you never did act on the obvious spark between you two.

Even when you broke things off with your ex, you never could find the right time- or gather enough courage- to ask him out. And now you were terrified that it was too late.

"I know! Isn't she perfect?" Your coworker, Agent Vodka, said, taking a long sip from his mug. "I don't know if I wanna fuck her or be her bestfriend."

You rolled your eyes, angerly placing your hands on your hips. "Aren't you gay? And married?"

"Me-ow, somebody's jealous." Vodka mumbled into his mug as he took another sip, quickly heading back towards his office to avoid your salty mood.

You shook your head, huffing out a sigh as you looked back at group of Agents. You managed to make eye contact with Whiskey, feeling the familiar burn in your cheeks when he smiled at you.

You gave him a small smile back, giggling when he tipped his hat at you. He always did stuff like that to make you laugh. No matter where you were or what you were doing, Whiskey always found a way to either make a silly face or flirt with you.

That's what made this all so confusing- the other agents were usually professional while working with you, so what made Whiskey different?

"Agent Amaretto!" Your boss, Agent Champagne, called out, motioning for you to come over to the group.

You hated suddenly having all of those eyes on you; especially hers.

You set your mug next to the coffee maker behind you, before awkwardly walking over to him, trying not to look at Malibu. "Yes sir?"

He motioned for the crowd of agents to get back to work, though Whiskey and Malibu stayed besides him. "Well, I assume you've met Agent Malibu?"

"Yes, sir."

"Wonderful! Well, the two of you will be accompanying Agent Whiskey on tonight's mission. Everything is already set up; Whiskey and Malibu, you'll be portraying Mr. and Mrs. Williams, a wealthy married couple from Spain. Amaretto, you'll be Mrs. Culpeper, a Russian widow. Everyone got it?" Champ asked, glancing between the three of you.

"Don't Whiskey and I usually play the married couple?" You tried to keep the attitude out of your tone, though you didn't think you were very successful considering the look that crossed Champ's face.

"Yes, but don't these two look better together? Look," Champ slung his arm around your shoulder, making you look at the 'couple.'

Your teeth grinded together, your nails digging into the palms of your hands as the green-eyed monster began to slip out of his facade.

"Ain't they just perfect together?" He asked, obviously proud of himself.

"You really think so?" Malibu asked, hugging Whiskey's arm as she looked up at him through her eyelashes; Whiskey winked at her in return, a sly smirk tugging on his lips.

"Well, I certainly have a lot to do to get ready then!" You pulled away from Champ before he could even notice that you were shaking with rage, your lips locked in a tight smile. "But do send me the files for tonight's mission."

And without another word, you quickly walked away from the group, holding your breath to keep the hot, salty tears at bay.

You spent the better part of your afternoon practicing a Russian accent and going over Mrs. Veronica Culpeper's profile, preparing for tonight's mission.

You reminded yourself to practice your breathing exercises, deciding to be an adult about the situation. You didn't have the right to be so possessive over Whiskey; you had your chance, and you blew it.

That's on you.

As you slipped on your short, silk black dress, you couldn't help but feel a slight sense of confidence. You didn't get to dress up often, so seeing yourself with a full face of make-up, your hair held back in your favorite clip, and wearing a dress that hugged your curves perfectly? How could you not feel absolutely gorgeous.

You took separate cars and left at different times than Whiskey and Malibu, not wanting to cause any suspicion.

Veronica had never met the Williams before, so at least it wasn't like you had to look at them together all night.

You slipped in your earpiece as you pulled up to the club, checking to make sure you were connected. "Whiskey, do you copy?"

"Yeah." He responded a moment later, whispering with that deep, gruff Southern accent that made you shiver.

"I copy too!" You heard Malibu say, her voice echoing as though she were in an empty room, like a bathroom.

You took a deep breath, composing yourself before exiting the car, greeting the valet with a thick, Russian accent as you dropped your keys into the palm of his hand.

As you entered the building, you couldn't help but glance around the room, looking for a familiar face.

"Hello there, I don't think we've met. Who are you?" A man asked from behind you, slight suspicion in his tone.

You turned, only to be met with the man of the night; Lucifer White, the leader of the biggest cartel ring in South America. The man you were all here to kill.

"I am Veronica Culpeper. I believe you knew my husband?"

"Ahh, yes! James! Oh, I do apologize for your loss. I'm sure you understand though, no?''

You blinked, trying to remember how Veronica's husband died. "Business is business."

Lucifer barked out a laugh, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. "A woman who understands how the business world works! I must have a drink with you!" He tried to pull you towards the bar, but you resisted.

Out of nowhere, five guards suddenly looked your way, not liking the disappointment look on their boss's face.

"I don't know.. Maybe I should walk around first? I just got here." You felt beads of sweat beginning to dampen your forehead, the panic burning in the pit of your belly.

"Are you kidding? That is the perfect time to get a drink! Come come!" He reached over and grabbed your hand, actually pulling you towards the bar now.

"Tell me, what is your choice of drink?" He shouted to you over the music, motioning for the bartender.

"I'll take your favorite." You said, throwing up your hands. "I feel adventurous tonight!" Your Russian accent was just as thick as his Spanish one.

Lucifer laughed, giving you a simple nod before speaking to the bartender in Spanish.

"So, what brings you here tonight? I figured you would be more than furious with me at the moment, no?"

And that's when it hit you; Lucifer killed Veronica's husband when an important deal went bad. James was supposedly working with the police, though there wasn't a lot of evidence to support that theory.

Even so, James was the first he killed when he discovered the undercover cops that were supposed to be buying his product.

Not even a minute later, the bartender gently set your drinks on the counter, giving you a nervous look as he prepared other customers. drinks.

"No. As I said. Business is business. My husband was weak." You said as you picked up your drink, raising it in the air. "To good business?"

Lucifer grinned, slamming his glass against yours. "To good business!" He began to chug his drink, watching you out of the corner of his eye to make sure you were drinking yours.

You raised the glass to your lips, preparing to take a sip, when suddenly it was ripped out of your hands. You looked up, watching as Whiskey tossed the glass back behind the bar, nearly missing the bartender's head.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Lucifer roared, standing to get in Whiskey's face. All of the guards in the surrounding area perked up, tightening their grips on their guns as they kept a very close eye on the situation.

"It was my mistake, really. I apologize. I thought she was someone else." Whiskey said, holding his hands in the air. You almost couldn't recognize him without his Southern accent.

You glanced around, catching a glimpse of Malibu, who was standing nearby to watch the situation unfold.

She wore a ruby red dress that hugged her waist perfectly, flaring out into a whirl of ruffles and glitter on the bottom. And even in a moment as tense as this, that familiar burn of insecurity began to creep into your mind.

"Who are you?" Lucifer demanded, gripping Whiskey's collar.

"Right! I'm David Miller, sir."

"Oh really? That's funny, because the David Miller I invited is currently in New Mexico. You see where I'm a little confused, no?"

"Jesus Chirst." Whiskey muttered, not even trying to hide his Southern accent anymore. He punched Lucifer in his jaw, sending both men to the ground.

That's when all hell broke loose.

Everything began to playout in slow motion- what seemed like dozens of men ran up from the first floor at the sight of a fight, trying to take on both Malibu and Whiskey.

You reached behind the bar and grabbed a bottle full of vodka. Storming over to one of the bigger guards who had his back turned, you tapped the back of his knee with your foot, smashing the bottle over his head once he dropped to his knees.

Holding onto the top of the shattered glass bottle, you stabbed an oncoming guard in the stomach with the broken glass, twisting the handle so the glass dug in deeper.

You felt someone grab you from behind, pressing a gun against the side of your head. "And to think I actually trusted you! I was going to make you mine." Lucifer snarled, the metallic smell of blood and alcohol wafting from his mouth.

"Awe, what a shame." You said, before slamming your head back into his face, causing him to stumble back as blood poured from the bridge of his nose.

"You bitch!" He cried out, holding his hand over his nose.

You turned, kicking your foot into his stomach so hard that he flew back into another guard, both of them falling to the ground.

Feeling something break on your shoe, you sucked in a breath, propping your foot up on a nearby barstool to see if you broke the heel.

In doing so, a guard took that as an opportunity, proceeding to jab his knife into the side of your thigh while you weren't paying attention.

You ripped your leg off of the chair, clenching your teeth together in agony as you ripped the knife from your thigh. "You fucker!" You screamed, hurling yourself at the man as though you were some kind of predator.

You all fought like hell for the next ten minutes, the war ending with a single gunshot to Lucifer's forehead.

You stood there panting, holding the gun in a vice-like grip. The familiar feeling of guilt swirled around in your stomach, making you lightheaded. You'd think that after eleven years of killing people, you'd be used to it by now.

Well, you'd be very wrong.

Whiskey and Malibu were by your side a moment later, Whiskey letting out a long whistle when he saw what you had done. "Bit of a hiccup, but I'd say that was a hell of a mission, huh?"

Malibu gave him a are you serious right now? look, gesturing to her torn, blood covered dress.

"Ah well, ya win some, ya loose some." Whiskey patted her on the back, suddenly going quiet when he saw the blood that rushed down the side of your leg, now pooling at your feet. "Please tell me that's someone else's."

You furrowed your brows together, glancing down to see the mess you unintentionally created. "Oh! Huh, I honestly forgot about that.."

Whiskey hurried to your side, looking up at you for permission when he grabbed the edge of your dress. Once you gave him the okay, he took one look at your stab wound and decided that you needed to go to the hospital.

"What? No, Jack, I'm fine! I'll just have Ginger look at it when we get back."

"Ginger is currently at home sleeping. Ya know who isn't? The doctors at the ER down the road. Now go get in the truck."

"I can drive myself-"

"Give Stacy your keys. She'll bring it back to the office for ya."

So now they were on first name basis?

The thought made you cringe, a sour look beginning to spread across your face. "I gave my keys to the valet."

"Got that?" Whiskey asked Malibu, nodding when she agreed. "Now, let's get you taken care of." He gently grabbed your arm, guiding you outside towards the parking lot.

"Let me get this straight," The doctor said, taking off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "You just fell on a knife?"

"Yup." You and Whiskey said in union, glancing at one another.

"And how exactly did you fall on a knife?"

You simply shrugged, tossing your hands up.

The doctor eyed you suspiciously, staring at Whiskey as though he did it. "Right.. Well, thankfully it's not very deep. You're going to need stiches and maybe some antibiotics, but you'll be fine. I'll be back in a moment to stitch you up, okay?"

"Thank you, doctor." Whiskey said, giving him a curt nod.

Once the doctor left, you let out a long sigh, beginning to pick at your nails. The only thing you could seem to think about was how Whiskey said Malibu's real name, no hesitation, no warning- he used it as though he'd known her for years.

Tears began to swell in your eyes, making you dig your nails into the palm of your hand to counteract them.

"Is the pain gettin' worse?" Whiskey asked, staring at your clenched fists.

Shit.

"I'm fine." You mumbled rather rudely, you'll admit.

Whiskey raised his brows, swaying his hip to the side. "Well what did I do?"

You rolled your eyes as you huffed out a sigh. "What are you talking about?"

"That! That right there. What's with the attitude?"

"I don't have an attitude, Jack."

"Bullshit. Are you still salty you ain't get to be my wife this time around?"

The lump in your throat began to swell, making it hard to swallow. "I was never salty in the first place. For fucks sake, can't you just wait in the waiting room? I'm a big girl, I can get a few stitches by myself."

Whiskey stared at you in awe. "Oh my god, you are!"

You turned your head so he couldn't see the heat that began to burn through your cheeks. "I'm not!"

"Listen Sugar, I'll make it clear to Champ that you're my number one girl from here on out, alright? I'm not sure how Stacy's gonna feel 'bout-"

"God, do you ever shut up?!" You cried out, finally looking at him with your tear-stained cheeks and wobbling lip. You couldn't hold back your jealousy any longer, hearing her name on his tongue for a second time making your body burn with pure rage.

Whiskey's smile quickly faded. He continued to stare at you as though he solved the worlds hardest puzzle. "Holy shit, you're jealous."

Your eyes went wide, your body suddenly dropping into fight or flight mode. "I don't need this." You jumped to your feet, ripping the curtain back before storming away from him.

"The hell you do!" Whiskey was hot on your tracks, grabbing your wrist once you were in arm's length.

Other patients that didn't have their curtains drawn began to stare at the scene; doctors looked at you both with suspicion.

"People are looking. Will you please just get back in there?"

"Are you going to shut up?"

Whiskey acted as though he locked his lips and threw away the key.

"Fine." You pulled your arm out of his grasp, walking back to the corner yourself.

Whiskey pulled the curtains back once you were both inside the makeshift room, stayed quiet like he promised. Though by the looks of it, his head was racing with thoughts.

You tried to sit on the edge of the bed, but the skin around your wound felt tight- as though your skin would rip if you moved too much. You sucked in a sharp breath, obviously struggling.

"Let me help-"

"Aren't you supposed to be staying quiet?"

Whiskey rolled his eyes. "Don't be a child. Seriously, let me-"

"I'm fine-"

Whiskey sighed, gripping your waist and lifting you onto the bed.

You sat there with a scowl, rubbing your sides. You hated being picked up. "Don't you ever do that again."

Whiskey stared at you for a while, his mouth agape. Not a moment later, he began to laugh- the kind of laugh that had him doubled over, holding his stomach.

"What?" You crossed your arms over your chest, wanting to know what was so funny.

"Ya know you're cute when you're mad?" He asked, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you.

You scoffed, turning your head away from him once again.

"it's true! You may be stubborn, but god damnit, you make up for it by bein' so adorable."

You turned to face him, your brows still furrowed together. "Why are you being so mean to me, Jack?"

"How am I being mean to you, sugar?" Whiskey cooed, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"By acting so nice to me all of the time! None of the other agent's treat me like this. They're usually professional- wanting to get a mission done as soon as possible. But you? You do stuff like this; taking me to the hospital yourself, buying me dinner, flirting with me.. Why?"

Whiskey shook his head, a shy smile tugging at his lips. "You really wanna know?"

"I wouldn't've asked if I didn't."

"True." Whiskey mumbled. He placed his hand on your cheek, guiding your face to his as he gently pressed your lips together.

You sat there frozen for the better part of the kiss, shocked that it was finally happening. Years of tension- of longing, hoping that he would someday feel the same finally poured out into one, single kiss.

And once you finally did kiss him back, your lips pressed against his with urgency, as though you were starving for his touch alone.

"Okay!" The doctor said, yanking back the curtain right as the two of you pulled away. "I hope I'm not interrupting, but are you ready to get started?"

"Not at all! Come on in."

"Great." The doctor and a nurse came in to set everything up for your stitches, not even realizing that they walked in on the best moment of your life.

You laid your head on Whiskey's shoulder, holding the edge of your dress back so the nurse could disinfect the area. "Can I spend the night at your place?" You asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

"Sure thing, sugar." Whiskey said with a laugh, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

Yeah, you were gonna be alright.

Hello! Thank you so much for reading!! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated :)

Taglist: @dino-fart

#agent whiskey #agent whiskey x plus size reader #agent whiskey fanfiction #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x female reader #jack daniels x plus size reader #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels fanfic #jack daniels #jack daniels x female reader #kingsmen #kingsmen golden circle #kingsmen golden circle fanficton #statesmen #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙thoughts #thanks for the ask!!

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allzelemonz · 9 months

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Lieutenant: Bill Williamson X Male Reader

Pronouns: he/him, implied masculinity, Reader referred to as ‘man’, ‘sir’, and ‘boy’ Physical Sex: AMAB implied, mentions of shaving facial hair Rating: T/Violence, crime Warnings: Incredibly gay and closeted Bill, internalized homophobia, period typical homophobia, Reader was an officer, dishonorable discharges for being gay, pining, uniform ‘kink’, mentions of Reader participating the the relocation of Natives, military habits and norms Summary: For a job, Dutch has you and Bill dressed in your old uniforms. It brings out some old habits and new feelings.

The whole job feels ridiculous. But it was Dutch’s idea and Dutch is the boss and there’s only so many people that can pull it off and you stopped listening after you heard the word ‘uniform’ so you don’t remember the rest. Even if you had been listening, seeing yourself in the old clothes makes your stomach turn. Everything was taken so quickly, your whole life turned on its side just because you let yourself be vulnerable. And even after all these years the damn collar doesn’t sit the way it’s supposed to. All of it aside, freshly shaven and hair slicked with pomade, you look like the lieutenant you used to be. At least Dutch’s plan might actually work.

When you leave your tent and the dreadful mirror Molly lent you, you feel a bit better not having to look at yourself in the dreadful garments. Of course, you only get a moment’s peace before Sean sees you approaching the stolen coach and opens his mouth.

“Look at that!” He grins. “Big man a’ the army!”

“Cavalry.” You sigh. “Officers are always more specific. Uptight bastards.”

Sean chuckles. “Apologies, sir.”

“Shut up.”

Sean snickers to himself as he returns to looking over his rifle and you pass him to find Dutch. He’s speaking with Hosea, Arthur, and Bill, all of them in their own disguises. Bill is the only other in uniform, reminding you of a degenerate corporal you had to have a few others hold down and shave before a visit from your colonel. Captain's orders of course, everything the captain said was everything you did back then.

“Ah, there’s our officer.” Hosea says, a fondness in his tone that makes you not snap at the comment.

Dutch laughs in that annoying way he does when things are working out for him, Arthur simply looks a little stunned at your clean cut appearance. Bill, however, has a red face and eyes that wander over your figure. Not that you notice, Dutch has already started talking to you like a father seeing his son in uniform for the first time. This gives Bill the freedom to look at you like he wants to. You stand like an officer, like those men that he usually hates because they’re so full of themselves, but it works for you. His eyes find the rank insignia of a first lieutenant, telling him you did something to get promoted or gain brevet at some point. Knowing you, it’s not so surprising.

“Now.” Dutch puts a hand on Bill’s shoulder and snaps him out of his ogling. “What do you think of our enlisted man here?”

Bill isn’t entirely sure why he straightens his posture under your gaze. He’s not really a soldier anymore and you’re not really an officer. But you feel like one. The way your eyes trail over his uniform, his beard, everything about him with some kind of scrutiny, it makes him feel like his sergeant is inspecting him again. And you feel that habit, the demeanor coming over you again and you have to swat it away because you hate that you want to point out every little flaw you find.

“He looks fine, Dutch.” You say. “He’ll pass.”

“Fantastic, boys.” Dutch laughs in triumph. “Excuse us.”

He pulls Arthur and Hosea along with him, all dressed as rich men. They’re supposed to be supporters that donate to the welfare of veterans but they don’t seem stuck up enough to pass in your opinion. You turn back to Bill and find him staring, but he looks away when you catch him.

“I thought you were infantry.” You say, noticing the yellow of cavalry on his uniform.

“I was…” Bill mutters. “Served in the cavalry for a while too, thought it'd look better if we, uh… matched.”

You smile. “Good call.”

There’s a moment of silence before Bill speaks again. “Didn’t know you was a lieutenant.”

You cringe a little at the recognition of your rank. “Yeah…”

“You get promoted er…uh…”

“Yeah, uh, first lieutenant.” You recall the promotion with resentment, not proud of the things you had to do to accomplish them. In retrospect, nothing the cavalry did was good.

“Impressive.”

Bill didn’t mean to say it out loud. He tried not to be around officers while he was a soldier but he had to respect them. He definitely respects you, uniform or not, but the way you look in one certainly isn’t helping some things he’s been trying to ignore about himself. You look like the kind of man that could have easily been the cause of his dishonorable discharge.

“Boys!” Dutch calls. “Time to go!”

You glance over Bill again and find yourself stepping closer to fix the most glaring of his uniform deficiencies. It’s nothing you haven’t done for a subordinate before, especially when you were a cadet. And it’s nothing Bill hasn’t experienced before from his superiors. It’s a very common act, wordlessly touching each other up, but Bill’s cheeks still turn red as your hands touch his chest and his neck in the process of fixing his uniform. Then you step back and he sees it, so he reaches out and fixes your collar. For once, it stays. Countless men have tried to correct the pesky thing, generals included, but Bill got it to sit perfectly on the first try and his hand still hasn’t moved. His fingers are so lightly touching your skin and it makes sparks shoot through you, but he pulls away when you look at him.

Neither one of you speaks to the other for most of the job, only opening your mouths when your false roles dictate it. Bill plays lackey, serving the rich men and the officers, so you find yourself giving him orders. Simple things, but you put on that command voice you used to use so no one doubts you. Bill plays his role well enough, though the officers you encounter call him a ruffian and a buffoon. You have to remind yourself that they’re about to be robbed blind to keep yourself from starting a fight.

“Hello, lieutenant.”

You turn at the sound of your rank and are met with someone familiar. A man you spent time as a cadet with and served alongside. No one special, but someone you used to trust with your life.

You glance down from his face to find a captain’s rank. “Captain? You made captain?”

He laughs. “A few years ago, I’m surprised you haven’t yet.”

“I’ve been told I will soon.” You smile, trying to keep suspicion away, Dutch should be done any time now.

“Good!” He grins. “Anyway, how have you been? I haven’t seen you since that relocation our platoons did together.”

Of course, forcing people off their land. The ‘glory’ days of your career.

“I’ve been fine, just keeping things in order.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Like that?”

You follow his gesture to where Bill stands among a group of enlisted men. He does stand out despite what seems like his best efforts.

“Williamson?” You ask. “What about him?”

“Doesn’t seem like the kind of soldier you’d bring up.” He laughs.

You find your hand forming a fist and you have to force its uncurling. He’s insulting both you and Bill with a single comment. “What do you mean?”

He chuckles. “I don’t mean to be rude, lieutenant, but if he were one of mine I’d have discharged him by now.”

“He’s a good man.” You say a little faster than you mean to. “A good soldier.”

“Don’t go falling into those nasty habits again, lieutenant.”

That nearly does it. You’re halfway to the point of knocking the man on his ass when Arthur slides into the conversation with a hand on your shoulder.

“Excuse me, sir.” He says with a well trained smile. “I need ta borrow the lieutenant for a moment.”

The captain bows his head. “Of course. We’ll talk later.”

You follow Arthur out of the crowd, Bill joining you as you leave the event. Hosea and Dutch wait by the stage with Sean half asleep while holding the reins.

“How’d ya get on?” Dutch asks.

“He was about ta punch a feller.” Arthur laughs.

“I got the information.” You scoff. “Can we go now?”

“What made you want to hit a man?” Hosea asks as he nudges Sean awake.

You sigh as you shrug off the uncomfortable uniform coat. “Officers are bastards, that’s all.”

“Course they are.” Bill mutters, crumbling his own coat in his hands.

“You boys did good.” Dutch reassures. “And it’ll be a long time before we play soldier again.”

And it is a long time before Dutch asks you to put on the uniform for a con again. This time it’s much simpler, just you and him going to some officer’s party under the ruse of a officer and his proud father while you pickpocket and leave with a nice stagecoach to fence. The night is full of officers telling stories about killing ‘savages’ and their mothers calling every young man they see handsome and their fathers boasting about how proud they are. It brings up too many memories and feelings of wanting to knock smug looks off of people’s faces. But when it’s over you have a quiet ride home as Dutch and you separate to not cause suspicion.

Bill is on watch when you return and you recall him in his own uniform with much more fondness than you should. He doesn’t call out to ask who’s there, he just stares as you pass. You hitch your horse with the others and take a few minutes to give them attention, but the sound of your name makes you turn around.

With his rifle slung over his shoulder, Bill stands awkwardly in front of you. “The-The job go good?”

You nod, suddenly feeling the tightness of your collar on your neck. You unbutton it and catch the rising heat on Bill’s face as you do. “Alright, Bill?”

He nods quickly. “‘m fine.” His eyes dart from your unbuttoned collar to your face. “You, uh, ya wanna have a drink?”

It’s your turn to feel heat. You clear your throat and shuffle a bit on your feet. “I-I can’t, I gotta do something for Dutch.”

No you don’t, you’re in denial and very much not ready to be feeling what you’re feeling about the man in front of you. So is Bill, but he really can’t look at you in that uniform with any level of control.

“Oh…”

The disappointment is apparent in his voice and it shakes you a little. “Maybe… maybe it could wait for a, uh, a few minutes.”

Bill isn’t entirely sure where his confidence comes from. He’s never good at these things but he manages enough in the moment to step closer to you and ball his fist in your uniform to press his lips to yours. It lasts just a second before his senses come back and he pulls away, but a second is more than enough time for you to realize denying what you want from Bill is stupid.

“I-I’m sorry, I-” He stumbles like you’re a real officer and he’s reliving his own discharge.

You cut Bill off and reconnect your lips, pulling him closer with your hands cupping his face. The rifle on his shoulder slides off before his hands find your waist and he returns the kiss with much more enthusiasm this time. You can feel when his hands move and run over each button until he lays his palms flat against your chest. It makes your heart beat fast and your breath stall, causing you to pull away a bit. Bill freezes, his eyes looking over your face to find what he did wrong, but he’s distracted by your thumb as it strokes his cheek.

“You like the uniform, I take it?” You whisper.

Bill nods, not quite capable of words when your eyes sparkle back at him in the moonlight.

“I hate it.” You mutter, pressing a light kiss to his lips. “It’s not all you like is it?”

“No!” Bill says before realizing he should be quiet. “No, I-I like plenty about ya.” His hands slide back down to your waist and squeeze unconsciously. “Ya just… ya look so…”

His words catch in his throat as he meets your eyes again and all he can do is kiss you. You smile into it and let yourself relax, knowing that it’s not just some latent soldier’s fantasy to fraternize with an officer. Even you have to admit, men always look good in the stupid uniforms. Especially Bill, but he always looks nice. It’s not like you can be punished for feeling this way now, so the thoughts fly through your mind freely and you don’t hold back when Bill pulls you a little closer.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption x reader #bill williamson #bill williamson x reader #bill williamson x male reader #red dead redemption x male reader #x reader #x male reader

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21stcenturyschizoidfag · 6 months

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OK SO. HERE IS.. avery 21stcenturyschizoidfags very silly impromptu mewtuals hunger games simulator thingulator post. this thing was fucking long i didnt realise maybe i'm just crazy and beautiful. will post the next bit after

AS A REMINDER HERE IS THE ROSTER.. i didnt really have any specific metric for who i added i just added who i thought would find this funny to be totally honest. and the caroline polacheks mole v azealia banks spoon thing is a reference to this i just find it really funny because i dont personally like caroline polacheks music also i ahve a facial mole like hers too. OK LETS BEGIN. BTW click on the images to see them better :)

da bloodbath

shaan being so scary like halloween time... ANA FUCKING DOWN LIKE STRAIGHT AWAY due to famed non-binary lesbian ally nicolas cage dracula in the movie renfield 2023... papa pavel and baby emilio working together ahh so cutes.. ram said im NOT starving in here. dee plans to FIGHT. everyone else gets the hell out of there

I FUCKING STRANGLED ISA TO DEATH ARE YOU KIDDING ME? ann doing everyone a favor and scaring that mole out of here.. aviv and cassis working together awww so friendlys. Someone gave proxy bombs which is very scary dont trust him with those his icon is the joker for a reason

day one and fallen tributes

dee and pavel each get stuff from one of numerous stans worldwide. mia sneaks up on mr. flow3 while hes busy writing dracula flow 4.. mr cage dracula and my friend olive feeling adventurous. mariam gets craftyyy and ellie wellie is homesick for equestria.. scott is a feminist as expected and scare-ah lives to see another day

cassis doing some tom and jerry stuff to accy OKAYY.. carolines mole uses its connections to caroline polachek proper (its attached to her face -_-) to get UNFAIR support from a stan. Nobody is surprised. BIGENDER TEAMUP from me and shaan.. I dont know how xe can bear to be around me after i STRANGLED ISA. TO DEATH. The oomfs are going hunting.. and then proxy takes my son hunting. I SURE HOPE NOTHING HAPPENS TO MY SON. & we mourn the loss of two souls. gone too soon.. gone too soon

night one

this broke my heart the fact that emilio is having trouble sleeping like EMILIOOO ): I LOVE YOU.. max doing everyone a favor by killing carolines mole BUT with the INCREDIBLY tragic loss of ELLIEEE.. mia and proxy chilling.. vi being an incredible chef and resourceful at that. is anyone surprised (smiles beautifully). the INSANE triple combo death of two incredible gay men and a beautiful and insane bigender. TRAGIC TRAGIC SHIT? Pavel spares the life of mr. flow3. Cassis has a little nap in a tree.. mariam having a mariam moment and ram REFUSING to allow it. mariam LIVES. ann like vi is very skilled in the kitchen and everyone claps and smiles. Me and that FUCKING spoon seem to have hit it off

day two and fallen tributes

emilio, accy & cassis are feeling adventurous asf.. me + olive + ram + sarah decide its time for food innit. AVIV PAVEL DEE AND MIA DIE. JUST LIKE THAT? THEY JUST DIE. THEY JSUT DIED? LIKE THAT. THEYRE DEAD NOW. LIKE BYE EVERYONE THEYRE JUST DEAD? i will mourn them. mariam and max are IN. THE TRENCHES. watch out please.. proxy and mr. flow3 are getting their battle tactics in

Rest in peace to these fucking legends. We lost so many in ONE FUCKING ROUND. so many incredible individuals just gone like that. Greyed out pavel kitten and slay sister callie is making me scream laughing. Scoot and paddington greyed out is like who are these two little scamps. Good lord. GOOD LORD.

night two

Ram is sick what the hell when did that happen. IM IN TEARS OVER MARIAM BEGGING ANOTHER PERSON TO KILL HER. LIKE GIRL I KNOW ITS THE HUNGER GAMES BUT IM IN TEARS RIGHT NOW CAN YOU STOP? & LIKE ASKING MY SON TOO?? trenches. cassis sabotages THE SAD FROWNER scare-ah (maybe its for the best..) A spoon climbs a tree. i would love to see that. mr flow3 and ann also climb trees.. Olive is so focking cold. Dogboy bonding.. theyre giving proxy more fucking explosives i swear to g-d. OK accy looking at the night sky did make me a bit emotional because like he IS an alien.. is he homesick too? im so sorry. they took your ufo away from you to put you in these sick and twisted games..

TO BE CONTINUED..

#averyposting #sillies

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gascon-en-exil · 4 months

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Sorry if I sound rude Saying this but a woman wearing a short skirt and a cleavage isn't sexualized and acting as if thighs belly button and chest are sexual when they are just body part is the main problem of women not being able to dress how they want and to have t hide some body parts to not excite the male gaze. I agree that FEH is indeed using fanservice but saying that a woman wearing outfits exposing those body part is itself fanservice is wrong beyond limit, especially regarding the Edelgard design since it's very modest and anatomically wrong

Say it with me now:

Fictional characters are not people. They are tools.

What these units wear says nothing about what women should wear, but it does say quite a bit about FEH's artists and their target demographic. If you'd actually paid attention to that post, I was advocating for hornier male character art because that would allow FE's tastelessness to at least feel consistent.

Also, Zettai Ryouiki is the trope I was thinking of - sexualizing the gap of bare skin between a short skirt and stockings. I'm not going to pretend to understand why that's a thing - maybe it's sort of like the joke that Victorian Anglos got horny for exposed ankles? - but it apparently is, and winter Edelgard's got plenty of it.

I realize that part of Edelgard's sexual/romantic appeal is, ironically, that she's "modest" and unavailable to anyone but you the player(-as-Byleth), because straight men have that whole Madonna/whore complex thing going on where women or female characters who are perceived as too sexual or too experienced are somehow threatening or, worse, "used." There's also a TV Trope for that. Given my own experiences and the total absence of that sentiment in gay male culture, it's little wonder that some of my favorite modern FE female characters are Camilla and Manuela - because they've got obviously sexualized designs but are also written to be aware of their own appeal and how they make use of it.

However, you've really got to let go of that "My Girl Is Not a Slut" thing with Edelgard, because IS has no such reservations. Never mind the thigh gap winter alt, we've got

boob armor where previously there was none, for the alt players actually voted for,

a much softer and more human take on the Hegemon,

lying supine in a nightdress, and more exposed thigh courtesy of Cipher,

more exposed skin and basically a camel toe; I also know that Reddit threw a fit over this one in particular, because she's not muscular and/or scarred from the Agarthan experiments,

and an upskirt shot from Azure Gleam that lasts for two whole seconds, in the middle of a scenario where Edelgard is made to take orders from two older men and then reduced to a babbling child.

In the midst of any outrage over my pointing out more examples of IS treating Edelgard like a sex object, I'd like you to turn that feeling around and ask instead: Why does the camera never lovingly linger up a male character's clothes? Why are possessed male characters (ex. Conquest Takumi) never treated like helpless children? Why are there no Cipher cards of any male characters lounging around in nightwear giving the viewer bedroom eyes? When male characters become monsters (ex. Lyon with Fomortiis), why do their FEH versions look the same or even more monstrous?

Oh, wait. Is it because of this? I assume you also sent this.

Funny how when male characters are actually objectified in the same way, then and only then does it become stupid.

People get horny over Edelgard, and IS knows it. People also get horny over naked and mostly-naked men in ways that do not necessarily cater to straight male comfort, although fortunately for you I imagine IS doesn't seem to know or care about that. Take your wins where you can get them, and let the rest of us have our fun.

#Fire Emblem #FEH #Fire Emblem Heroes #FE16 #Fire Emblem Three Houses

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sweetingtea · 9 months

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I posted this on my Instagram story and I just thought everyone should know.

CW: suicide talk, gay talk, serious talk (I hate being /s I’d rather be /j 😒)

“OMG!! tHiNk Of ThE cHiLdReN😭😩😩”

This is starting to feel more of an excuse than a reason to hate on this specific topic. This movie HEAVILY implies SUICIDE (which, personally, I don’t think is a bad thing for the movie) and you are worried about two men kissing being too much for your kid?

This is literally:

“I can condone a person feeling like they’re just no longer an important member of society so they think the best option is to kill themself—BUT I DRAW THE LINE AT TWO BEAUTIFUL MEN EXPRESSING THEIR LOVE FOR ONE ANOTHER.”

Honestly, get over yourself if you really think like this.

You see two men being disgusting.

I see two humans loving each other.

We are not the same :)

I’m not asking for them to like the movie, everyone has their preferences, but to just move on and find something more of their style. THEY GOT A LOT OF THOSE. This movie was made specifically for people like me, like the LGBTQ+; to dig deep into our brains and to help people metaphorically understand what we go through and what others actions could result into us feeling/doing just because we choose to be what makes US happy. No need to post something like that as like a “warning”.

It’s like this: I don’t like “Never Have I Ever” (on Netflix btw!!)

It is not bad by any means! Some of the little snip-bits I see on TikTok are pretty cool and funny but when I tried to watch it, I just couldn’t get into it; not my taste. Yet, you don’t see me going around the internet warning people about it’s contents because it may have some things I don’t like or agree with or I think is stupid, doesn’t mean it’s bad, just means it’s not FOR ME.

And I moved on.

Simple as that. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Don’t try to ruin something for everyone else just because you don’t like it.

One, that’s a horrible way to live; two, you are probably not fun at parties :/

—(you can ignore this part if you want, I’m just ranting on at this point)—

Also, back to the “cHiLdReN😩” thing…

They don’t care.

Nope, don’t give a shit.

Unless you make them give a shit.

I am no parent to any child at all, but I was raised by my mutter (❤️) who let me make my own decisions, gave her opinion and left it at that with no fight whatsoever. Sometimes, she was even right when it came to my options. Even if she didn’t get it, she would always TRY to understand.

Let me give you an example:

I technically don’t care what pronouns I am called, but for legal reasons, I am a she/her female outside the internet. My mutter, who grew up with womanhood back in the day (millennials 🙄/j), was told that women should always shave their legs. So, I was too.

Me though? I ignored that part when I grew into my teenage years. I started shaving when I wanted to (which isn’t often tbh) and only when I wanted to. Not when other people thought I should, it was when I thought I should that mattered to me.

My mutter? Didn’t get it at first.

When I walked around with my leg hair out, she would start asking me when I planned on shaving; I would shrug and say, “probably soon.”

That would end up with me basically forgetting my leg hair existed. My grandma is the one who really doesn’t let that shit slide and has “threatened” to hold me down and let her do it, but I’m like: “stfu, not one gosh-diddly-darn soul asked for your fucking opinion, Susan 😐 and that’s really fucking weird”.

Honestly, after that first conversation, I was getting something from the kitchen when my mutter got out of her bed, walked up to me and asked: “Are you not shaving because you’re lazy or because you really don’t want to?”

I told her the truth, “I shave when I want to, ma.”

She takes that truth with her for the rest of her days.

My grandma still doesn’t like it; continues to remind me that people won’t accept me for it. However, I like to think my mutter has proved her wrong.

Now a days, I got my mom protecting me from it: “It’s her choice, it’s her decision, can’t you leave it at that?” She told my grandma (her mom) one day in the car. I’ve never smiled so wide. Over fucking leg hair, though, can you believe it?

My grandma still likes to complain anyway (she loves me, I swear, she’s just a tough cookie, and a boomer) but the more she does it, the more I laugh and we just move on.

Do you see what I’m getting at here?

You influence your kids.

But they are kids, they usually grow up thinking that their beloved parents are always right. They don’t know any better, until they grow up. Whether they choose to go down that path of hate you taught them or if they decide to expand their knowledge and UNDERSTAND what is going on with others heads is their choice and their choice alone. (I honestly encourage the latter, but, whatever floats the boat I guess.)

———

The Nimona movie is perfect. You don’t have to like it but it has reached into other peoples hearts, gave it a hug, saying “I understand you, you are not the only one, you are loved, you are safe with us, you are not alone.” At least give credit where credit is due. It sends out an important message for people who hate who they are to not hate who they are and to embrace the beauty within them. Show off the beauty and to never hide it just because of what others think.

Please don’t discourage others to not watch this movie.

Please, please, please, please, please, please, PLEASEEE show this to every person in the universe who needs to hear Nimona’s message. 😭🙏🏻

———

Lmao I’m done.

Holy shit, what a ride.

But, yeah, f🦆k the dude in the pic, watch Nimona 🦏💕

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vacantgodling · 5 months

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The sexuality/gender/otp headcanon ask game stuff for any oc of your choice? Bonus points if it's someone you haven't talked about in a while

thank you!!

i haven't talked about noh outside of the very very basics of his story and what's going on so let's talk about my favorite boyo.

here is he (cuz i found this picrew and i thought it was cute) -- the only thing that's off about it is that noh usually wears a mask over his face; he's completely mute and only uses sign language so in a way he views his mouth as "useless" so he doesn't like it being seen lol.

Sexuality: gay gay homosexual gay

Gender: noh is trans masc!

A ship I have with said character: so the main ship that i have with him is a space pirate named emerion jackson. technically speaking the two of them have known of each other since before noh had amnesia; noh and his team were actively trying to bring emerion in and though they never met in person the two of them were definitely :eye emojis: at each other because it was "oh, finally a challenge" type scenario. but then when noh disappeared off the face of the earth and started being plastered everywhere as a criminal, emerion got a little.... worried about him. it seems crazy and its not something that he would talk about to any of his crew because they would heckle him for it, but the fact that someone as formidable and determined as the mysterious (bc they'd never met face to face) noh bell; and how he's suddenly a criminal by the govt??? something is up.

the two of them end up meeting in person at a bar at the edge of a particular star system after noh is dropped off by the cargo crew that found him adrift in space. emerion recognizes noh immediately but doesn't say anything until someone else recognizes noh and a bar fight ensues bc they want to bring noh in for the money. emerion and his men jump in and end up helping him out and then he drags noh onto his ship.

at first, emerion isn't sure what to make of actually seeing noh face to face. coupled with the fact that noh doesn't remember that he was originally hunting him and his crew down its odd. but then he learns about the amnesia etc etc and emerion kind of feels guilt for not telling him everything up front. but part of him also likes the fact that noh doesn't remember anything and they end up beginning to form an actual bond and attachment to one another, which gets a BIT complicated as noh starts to learn his identity.

idk now that i'm writing all of this out fully i'm so in the mood to talk more about them; emerion is such a jackass and has a stick up it but at the same time he really cares about noh and hes SO INTIMATELY aware of HOW FUCKED he is lmaooo its kind of hilarious.

A BROTP I have with said character: noh has a really good circle of friends because they all grew up training together in the JACK and JILL program. the closest friend he has is amelia (who was his JACK so they know each other like the back of their own hands) but i think the cutest brotp/friendship he has is with neso.

neso is a very special JACK/JILL unit because she's a system with just one other alter and so she doesn't have a separate physical "body" that serves as her partner; its technically just within herself. the two of them are fully aware of each other and can switch back and forth though its not fully at will. she is the host and neon is her alter (and is essentially her older brother). neso can call neon to the front and he will show up occasionally but its not often because he doesn't really like people lol (though he is okay with the rest of their friend group). usually he shows up in dangerous situations because he's the JILL of their unit and in this universe they were able to engineer technology to change neso's eye color back and forth when she and neon switch fronting.

neso and noh are really alike and she can be somewhat childlike and cling to him. they use sign language with each other the most--especially in episodes where she's having a ptsd flashback or episode, he can help talk her down and taught her signs since she was young. they also tend to be the most quiet of their friend group and prefer to just vibe while the others (amelia, iodine, and ethan) are more personable and loud lol.

A NOTP I have with said character: this isn't a notp so much as like, its not canon anymore BUT it did used to be canon back in the day when i felt like i had to overcompensate with heterosexuality in all of my wips (i've had noh as an oc and this story for at least a decade so yknow). but before, noh and amelia were actually supposed to be the endgame couple, but at the end of the day i think they just work better together as best friends/found family. they know each other so well; to the point that its less like being with someone you're attracted to and more like being with the other half of their own brain so like... how am i gonna be attracted to myself energy. plus, amelia ends up with an engineer named claude and they're so sweet together i want to throw up <3

A random headcanon: noh is heavily inspired by my personal interpretation of link which is where his muteness stemmed from :)

General Opinion over said character: i love noh A LOT and i need to get over my fear of writing scifi because i've been wanting to tell his story for years. i project onto him a lil bit sure but he's such a fun character and i wanna figure out more about his storyline so i can be driven insane by it

since ive been talking about it so much, perhaps i might lol.

feel free to send me a character (mine or overwatch) and i'll do this for them :D

#s: noble

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