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tojipie · 7 months

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content: gentleman! shiu x fem reader, asshole! toji x fem reader :((, smut, blowjobs, semi-public, soft n loving !, creampie, cunnilingus, vvv minimal degradation

1.1k words !

format was loosely inspired by this lovely jaw breaking scrumptious post written by the extra talented satocidal

the two men in your life were dual sides to a deliciously sinful scale, bringing two vastly different creeds to the bedroom. keep just one, and the scale shifts, leaving you unfulfilled. keep both, and watch as they balance in perfect equilibrium.

˚ ✧ ───────────

shiu likes pretty things. soft, warm bodies he can bring home and toy with on his nights off. likes using his charm to break you in first, getting you all pliant for him before he fucks you.

he always starts with his mouth, always. soft kisses melding into deep, sinful strokes over your tongue with his own, overloading every single one of your senses with something else that is so uniquely him.

shiu is a sensual man, experienced well beyond words. the type to wine and dine. he takes pleasure out of pleasing you, growing hard in his dress pants as his tongue sends bolts of electricity down your spine and to your aching core.

he likes to surprise you sometimes, licking a stripe from just above your mound to below your navel, blowing over the wetness to watch you squirm at the temporary coldness before letting you settle down on your knees, a pillow wedged under your legs.

he’s gentle as he guides his length into your mouth, whispering soft praises while his thumb strokes over the swell of your cheek, obstructed by the shape of his cock slipping in and out of your throat.

he wipes the tears from your eyes every time, pressing a kiss to each eyelid with mumbles of “aww can’t take it?” and “we’ll train that out of you, don’t worry.”

it doesn’t matter that you’re already drenched, leaking onto the pillow separating your body from the floor. he’ll make time to eat you out, every. single. time.

thick, wide strokes of his tongue over your heat gradually melt into soft, gentle sucks on your clit. you can't quite remember when he laced his hand with yours, the warm weight keeping you grounded while you paint the lower half of his face in slick.

“don’t cum yet,” he whispers, flicking his tongue back and forth over your hole. you nod despite the stars clouding your vision, hand squeezing his like a vice. you hike your knees up to your chest as he shucks his pants down the rest of the way, keening at the praise you get for catching on so quickly.

don’t cum, not because he doesn’t want to see it happen, but because he wants you to do it on his cock.

he’s a tease through and through, slapping the weight of his dick on your opening before he pushes in, basking in the way your face screws up with desire.

shiu’s kind, attentive, always knowing what you need before you can say it. long, sensual strokes push you towards your edge, two hands locked iron-tight around your waist to pull you down onto his cock.

you don’t need to warn him before you cum when he already knows, licking his thumb and rubbing quick circles into the swollen bud of your clit. sucking dark marks into the delicate skin of your neck as you convulse around him.

shiu was pure sensuality. the type to make your head spin.

˚ ✧ ───────────

toji, to put it bluntly, simply liked getting his dick wet.

what can he say? the man loves sluts. hard, fast, and filthy sex, that was his specialty. and you were no exception to his bruteness.

whenever, wherever. that was his motto.

and so it was no surprise that you’d found yourself shut away in the corner of the mall’s single-stall bathroom 10 minutes after closing time, hand cupped around your mouth to mask your sounds of pleasure.

“no one takes cock like you do angel,” he whispers, a large hand rubbing circles into your tummy.

the gesture is oddly comforting, though that doesn’t last long as soon as soon as his thrusts pick up, trapping you between his hulking form and the cool wood of the bathroom door.

you needed this, needed him to treat you the way he did to feel something, that rush of electricity that starts in the out of your stomach and makes your ears ring. you couldn’t only live off of princess treatment from your other beau, not when toji was here, in the flesh.

the sound of shuffling outside makes your blood run cold, a harsh knock rattling the hinges of the door.

“is someone in there?” a husky voice asks, jiggling the handle with a sigh.

“janitor,” you whisper, struggling to speak as he continues to pound into you, not faltering even once.

“so?” he sighs, hiking your leg up to get a deeper angle.

the spot he hits inside of you is blinding, the head of his cock nudging against pure ecstasy with every movement.

“alright i’m coming in,” the voice warns, the sound of keys forcing you into action.

your hands jut out to hold the door shut, wobbling on one leg with the other still in toji’s grip.

“nono i’m—mmhh—busy!” you call, face burning at the accidental slip.

“busy using the bathroom!” you add, as if it’ll sound more convincing. toji laughs into the crook of your neck, still using your body like a cocksleeve.

“slut,” he mutters. the sound of his palm coming down on your ass likely doesn't go unheard by the stranger.

the keys recede, and so does your grip on the door handle.

“you better be out in 5 minutes, you hear me?”

“th—fuck, toji— thank you!”

you feel yourself being flipped around, both legs now in the air with your upper half supported against the door. the sound is anything but cautious, earning a raspy groan from the man holding you up.

“gonna fucking cum,” he whispers, face tucked into the curve of your neck. you reach down to rub your clit at his admission.

a few more thrusts are all you get before hot seed floods your inner walls, warmth spreading up your spine. you reach your high soon after, feeling him shudder while your cunt milks him for all he’s got.

“fuck,” he groans, pulling out of you after your high fades. firm hands reach to steady you as you quickly pull your panties up, smithing your dress back over your wobbly legs.

“gotta get out of here,” you mumble, watching him tuck himself back into his jeans. the two of you slip out into the empty corridor, searching for an exit hand-in-hand

“you’re such a good girl, you know that?” toji mumbles into your neck, leading you down the stairs to the parking garage. you wobble into the passenger seat of his car, watching him settle into the driver’s side.

there he goes again, that little sprinkle of affection in a sea of obscenity.

“ugh, my legs are sore,” you mutter, kicking your feet up on the dash to text shiu and ask when you were meeting up next. you guess when it came down to it, you’d always need balance.

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loveshotzz · 1 year

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fboy!eddie x fem!reader

Rude Boy

Summary: Alone in a basement at Reefer Rick’s party, you finally catch Eddie’s attention.

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: 18 + obviously this is an fboy!eddie fic so prepare for him to be smug, mocking and hot. Fingering (f receiving), dry humping, finger sucking, weed smoking, mentions of partying and a slightly angsty ending.

Authors Note: this is for @newlips #milestoneoflove celebration. I wanted to try something new in between working on bigger fics, I also just wanted to write something for you, cece. Thank you for always bringing us writers together on here 💗. Shout out to both cece and @carolmunson the queens of fboy!eddie. If you haven’t read The Sheep or Baby, As If I highly recommend.

Scanning the party over the top of your drink, your eyes search for the only reason you came to Rick’s in the first place. The rumor mill had let it be known that Eddie Munson and his main girl Cece had finally broken up, and you’d only dreamed of having that top spot.

Tugging down the short hem of your dress that you wore just for him, you were starting to get impatient. You had watched his messy head of curls disappear into the basement that was off limits for anyone that didn’t work for the man whose house you were in. No one had followed him in, and you didn’t notice anyone go before him. Sitting pressed against the wall you weigh the consequences of the choice you were about to make.

Pushing yourself off the wall you make a beeline for the door, weaving through the crowd you’re side tracked by a yank on your arm, falling slightly into the sea of dancing people you shove your empty cup into the chest of a handsy man who was trying to get you to dance. Ignoring the way he slurred ‘bitch’ after you yanked yourself free, all you focused on was keeping your breathing steady as you dared to be bold enough to get what you wanted for so long.

A manicured hand on the door handle, you got dark red just for tonight. The girls around town had always gossiped that color was his favorite. It doesn’t make any noise when you open it, the music upstairs immediately clashing with what he was playing downstairs. Closing the door the lighting is dim at the bottom of the stairs. A thick cloud of smoke creates a haze around the yellow glow and it tightens in your lungs with every breath you take all the way down.

The long wooden table with a lush bag of weed and a couple scales is what you see first, dark green crumbs dusting what was clearly a makeshift weigh station in the middle of it. Neon beer signs add a pink coloring to your forbidden surroundings as your eyes land on the worn couch in the center of the room.

The man you’d been looking for sitting right in the middle.

His long legs are spread wide with ease, and you catch a glimpse of the pale skin hidden underneath through the rips in his black tight fitting jeans. His simple white shirt wraps around his torso and arms the way you see on the models covering the packages at the store. The crisp cleanliness of it makes the ink that covers every inch of his toned arms stand out even more.

His face is hidden by a large hit blowing from between his plump lips adding to the fog that coats the room. You can still feel the heat of his stare and it makes your thighs press tighter.

“Lost?” His voice comes out deep with a teasing edge to it — a harsher rasp from smoking. Leaning forward - his elbows press to his knees, his handsome features reveal themselves to you when he pushes through the cloud of smoke. Straight white teeth shine on display in the kind of smile that ruins the thin fabric of your underwear. “Or just looking for trouble?”

It takes you a minute to find your words when the chestnut of his eyes darken as they take in the way the material of your dress hangs just right off every curve of your body. Thick ringed fingers come up to rest on the plush pink of his lips when they spy the dark red adoring your long nails, his smile widening even more almost like he knew you picked that color just for him.

“Trouble’s my middle name actually.” Biting into the sticky gloss of your bottom lip, mischief flashes behind his hungry gaze when he slowly extends the half smoked blunt in your direction. Daring you to take the bait.

He eats you alive with his eyes as your hips sway and your heels thud muted against the carpet carrying you towards him like a lion’s prey walking right into his den. The sound of Chevelle’s Send The Pain Below drowns out the noise of the party upstairs only intensifying the growing slick between your legs. Nerves vibrating from your fingertips the second hand smoke was already starting the job the blunt was going to finish.

You end up between his legs when you come to a stop and he doesn’t make any effort to leave your personal space. His hot breath fans on the exposed skin of your thighs when your delicate fingers brush against his when they take the blunt from his hand.

Your cheeks hollow when you take a drag, despite trying to keep a confident demeanor you can’t meet his eyes from this close. Black and hungry he doesn’t try to hide how his eyes roam all over you. The scent of his cologne is stronger than the weed burning, swirling around you it overpowers your senses.

His fingertips run a slow path up the back of your calf catching the way it makes you rub your legs together in search of friction. His lips ghosting against your skin as he starts toying with the hem of your dress.

“Didn’t anyone tell you not to talk to strangers?” He looks up at you from under his lashes and you try to ignore the sting to your ego that he doesn’t remember you.

“We went to High School together, Eddie.”

The squeal you let out when his teeth nip at the spot his lips had just been hovering covers the disappointment in your voice.

He just hums to himself giving you no indication if you jogged his memory or not. Squeezing rough with big hands at the doughy meat of your thighs he was focused on getting what he wanted, not the words coming out of your mouth.

Leaning back on the cushions of the couch, he watches you with narrowed eyes. Giving you another once over, he licks his lips watching the way yours wrap around the tobacco.

“Those cute feet of yours are probably sore from standing in those pretty lookin’ heels all night sweetheart.” Patting his lap, the smile on his lips twists like the devil before adding “Why don’t you take a seat?”

You exhale your last drag as he spreads himself out in anticipation for the choice he knows you’re going to make. With the blunt tucked between your fingers, you lean forward, hands gripping his shoulders letting him get a look at the lace that pushes your tits up earning you a squeeze on your sides in approval.

Straddling him with your knees against his hips, the heels of your shoes hang over the edge of the couch. Your dress sits rucked up at your waist — the new position giving him a view of the matching panties underneath.

“Wearing these ‘cause you wanted someone to see ‘em huh?” Plucking at the elastic edge near where you needed his fingers most, his smirk told you he could feel how they were already drenched.

“I don’t know what you’re talking abo-“

“Don’t let the blunt go out.” His tone is harsher than before and you hated how it only turned you on more. “You wanted my attention and now you got it princess, don’t be rude and waste my weed.”

You don’t argue with him bringing it back to your lips, putting your full weight down on his lap you could feel how hard he was underneath you despite his indifference. The silent victory has you smirking around your hit. The callouses that cover his fingertips catch against the smoothness of your skin as they grip and massage over the fat of your thighs.

The silver of his rings gleam against the soft light, the cool metal of the chain that wraps around his wrist leaves goosebumps in its wake with every glide against your heated flesh. Slow and teasing his hands make their way higher, clenching around nothing — he keeps his eyes trained on your face. Playing with the edge of your panties close to where you can feel a second heartbeat, he tuts when your hips give the slightest rock.

“Smoking my weed, breaking the number one rule in Rick’s house, and now you think you can be greedy while you soak my lap?” He lets out a low whistle before snatching what’s left of the blunt from your mouth. The glitter from your lip gloss stains the end when he puts it out.

Big hands on your ass, he pulls you forward when he leans back. A single grunt escapes him when your heat hits where he’s pressing against his zipper. A harsh smack followed by a kneading grip, he keeps one hand on your reddening ass while the other goes back to playing with the seam of your completely ruined underwear. He lets his two fingers dip inside, the fat tips tracing once over your slick lips.

“This is what you wanted isn’t it?” Pulling the offending material to the side his gaze darkens when he sees how you glisten for him, running the pads of his fingers down your slit he’s only partially satisfied when you mewl in response. Your long nails dig deeper into his shoulders when he does it again.

“I asked you a question, trouble maker.”

He doesn’t give you any time to respond before he pushes inside. Despite the lack of warning your walls give him little to no fight as they pull him in until he hits his rings. Eyes screwing shut at the stretch, all coherent thoughts get lost when he curls them to the side. Reaching your g-spot like he knew where it was the whole time.

“Yes! — Fuck, Eddie!” The coil in your stomach tightens when he starts setting a pace that has you clawing at his shirt, eyes rolling in the back of your head when he uses the pad of his thumb against your sensitive clit.

There’s a pang of jealousy when you think of all of the practice it took him to touch your body like he’d done it a million times before, but it’s short lived when he adds a third finger stretching your walls even further a pornogrpahic moan rips through your chest.

“Yeah? It’s like that huh?” His smooth voice is condescending as he mocks the way your mouth hangs open and your brows pinch together but you're too close to seeing god from just his fingers to care. The thought of how his dick would make you feel has you gushing all over him again, walls fluttering with a new wave of arousal. God, you hoped he’d let you find out.

All you can do is nod, your hips starting to meet the drag of his knuckles chasing the high that was threatening to consume every part of you. Too lost in the intensity of being so close you don’t see him lean in until you feel his lips on where the tops of your breasts are exposed from the low cut of your dress. Tongue lapping against the curve of your cleavage he bites down hard enough to leave a bruise, sucking for good measure he was marking you. No one else at this party was gonna touch you.

There’s a flicker of pride that ignites inside you at the thought of being one of his girls, and when the hand that's been firmly gripping your ass starts pushing your hips forward it’s just enough to send you flying over the edge.

White hot heat flashing behind your eyes, his name falls from your mouth in a way that will have your voice horse in the morning. Shuddering on top of him, you don’t think anyone has ever made you cum this hard before.

“Made such a mess of me darlin’, gonna need you to clean it up.” He doesn’t give you time to recover before the fingers that have you still trembling on top of him are shoved in your mouth.

The rough pads of his fingers press down on your tongue, the taste of your release coating your tongue — sweet and tangy. Wrapping glittering lips around them he inhales a shallow breath when you eagerly start sucking them clean.

“Such a dirty fucking girl, I’ve got something else you’d be good at suckin’ just like that.” Rutting his hips up, the over stimulation has you whining around his fingers. He pulls them out with a loud pop and a trail of spit still connects you, wiping the remains on the side of his jeans he gives your ass another spank before ushering you up.

“I’m gonna go get us something to drink then you can return the favor like I know you want to sweetheart.” Flashing you a smile that somehow has you hungry for more, you nod obediently with hot cheeks and a flushed grin on your gloss smeared lips.

“I’ll be waiting, Eddie.” Your voice is shy despite what just happened moments before, and it makes his dimples poke the sides of his cheeks.

You watch him head up the stairs you’d dare to come down, waiting to hear the door click you let out a little squeal. Falling onto the couch with a pleased smile, you toy with the bottom of your dress doing your best to ignore how soaked your were.

It had been ten minutes when you looked down at the mouth shaped bruise on your chest, and another ten when you opted to just lose your underwear for your own comfort. It was when it started pushing forty that the fear he might not be coming back finally set in.

Huffing with a shake in your throat, you finally will yourself to stand. Taking one last look around you finally decide to leave with whatever dignity you might have left after waiting almost an hour.

Your heels feel heavy with each step, the bruise to your ego from before growing ten fold. Turning the handle, it feels like all eyes land on you when you cross the threshold. Whispers and murmurs and stares falling to the mark on your chest, everyone knew who did that to you.

His loud laugh catches your ears and you should have known better than to let the lovesick smile light up your face like it was meant for you. It doesn’t take you long to find him halfway out the front door with his arm slung around a pretty brunette you’ve seen before. His main girl.

Throwing you a wink and less than guilty grin he knew he’d be able to see you again. You owed him a blowjob after all.

#newlipsmilestoneoflove #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #fboy!eddie #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson angst

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nonbinary-vents · 9 days

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I know this is such a doomer kind of attitude but I genuinely cannot stand it when people go around talking about the ‘silent majority’ when it comes to Jew hatred. There’s two main problems I have with this statement

— Sure, these people might support Jews now, but it’s probably safe to say the majority of people in the world have deeply ingrained biases against Jews. Those biases are easily exploited, easily brought out, and easily radicalised into rabid hatred. See: large swaths of leftist spaces, who honestly seemed like sleeper agents with how fast they openly admitted raping Jews is a moral thing. There’s also the issue of a lot of these silent majority people not supporting Hamas or believing in the Aryan race or thinking that Jews have no culture and we’re just stealing it from everyone else, but still tolerating those ideas being held in other people— it shows that these people neither understand nor care about the gravity of these views, which then makes those precious biases much, much easier to show

and

— The entire point of the silent majority is that they are silent. Sure, they might chat with their Jewish friends about how bad things are, they might express sympathy in private, things like that. But when push comes to shove, when Jews are being actively murdered wide scale, they don’t show up. They leave us in the dirt. They watch quietly as the Gestappo drags their neighbours away. They look away politely as their Dhimmi shopkeeper is beaten in the street for walking on the wrong side of the pavement. They close their blinds when their friend is tied to the stake and burned alive

I know it’s comforting to think of this vague concept of the silent majority, but it’s not actually reality. I know it sucks feeling like you need to have your guard up all the time (and you don’t, just be careful), it’s going to suck a whole lot more if you put yourself into a false sense of security. The silent majority are not our friends. The silent majority are not there for us. The silent majority don’t care. We can’t just live in a nebulous idea of people who quietly tut to themselves whenever they see someone saying ‘glory to the resistance’ or ‘Jews are trying to taint the Aryan race’, we need to focus on the tangible reality, and the people who are actually present

I think this is also why I, and so many other Jews, absolutely love non-Jewish allies. There’s something so indescribably amazing to see people in this world that’s been so horrible to us standing up for us, listening to us, helping us. Allies go through a lot of shit from others because they care about us, I’ve seen it so much— they’ll get vicious hate for just associating with Jews. And they still do it. They still stick with us. Because they care, and it’s just so wonderful

Spread the love to non-Jewish allies, you are so amazing. And to the silent majority, I hope you can become the help that we desperately need

#Jewish stuff #also #a lot of silent majority people look down on one form of Jew hatred but are okay with or believe in another #no your hate of leftist Jew haters doesn’t make you less of a philosemitic Christian who thinks the Jews killed Yeshu #Jew hatred #antisemitism #(I don’t want to tag it because the Hamasnikim have taken over it so this is more for tag blocking)#leftist antisemitism #right wing antisemitism #jumblr

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sordidmusings · 7 months

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Loose Lips (Buggy x Reader)

A/N: Fulfillment of this request! Thank you for making a request dear anon 💕 I really hope that it's what you wanted because it kind of grew into a whole thing 😬 also this is going to be this week's Thirsty Thursday!

@fanaticsnail brilliantly suggested this song for the fic!

Word Count: ~5.7k (~3.1k of smut 💀)

Warnings: Fem!afab!reader, NSWF very naughty indeed, praise, degredation, p in v, chop chop tomfoolery, overstimulation, creampie, dirty talk, dom!Buggy, jealous and heavily possessive Buggy, manhandling/forceful treatment, Gossip time with The Girls (probably ooc but let me have this), trashing your partner (he deserves it), allusions to gaslighting and emotional abuse, starts with humor then just needy but then devolves into lots of smut I promise 💀, some fluff at the end cuz I had to

~Come with me, and you'll be, in a world of endless perversion~

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

Buggy had the most shit-eating grin, and it only grew wider with each word you said. He was sunk deep into his chair, feet thrown on the table in front of him, nursing his fifth beer. Taking another gulp, he eyed you over the rim of his tankard. You were only starting your third drink, but to his delight that was enough of a buzz for you to loosen up. Normally, you were quite the skittish little thing around him, and while it was cute he wanted to see and know more of you. He’s always been quite infatuated with you and wished that he had more time with you to sate his want for your presence (and to fuel his fantasies). Tonight, that wish was granted when you had seated yourself next to him instead of your normal drinking buddies on the crew. It may have been Mohji’s usual seat, but whatever you claimed in his presence was immediately yours to him. Mohji was also easy to convince with a warning glare and sharp nod to the chair beside Cabaji.

Speaking of your usual drinking buddies, one in particular had taken to giving Buggy quite the sour look. It only fed Buggy’s smugness more. He wasn’t exactly a fan of your boyfriend in the first place. His dislike was quickly turning into disdain as well with the picture you had been painting for him. It was filled with unappreciated gestures, expected caretaking with no reciprocation, and an absolute bulldozing of your emotions. Clearly, this man boy didn’t deserve you. Possibly not even a spot on the ship with how poorly he’d been treating Buggy’s favorite. That’s probably why said boy was looking so pissy and threatened over there in his corner with your friends. Buggy raised his drink in a sarcastic cheers to him while you were distracted with a joke Cabaji had made at your partner’s expense. When your chuckles tapered off, your face started to pinch with apprehension.

“I feel kind of bad. I mean, you’re his crew and captain and I’m just here bitching to you,” you lamented. Your eyes widened with a sudden thought and you groaned. “Oh no, I must sound like a bratty teen gossiping about their partner.”

“Sounds like you’ve already tried talking it out with him,” Cabaji said. At your shy nod, he continues, “Then fuck it - you gotta get it out.”

“I know, but it’s all so stupid and trivial.” You were hunching back into yourself, staring down at your fingers while they played with your glass in your lap. There’s a flick on your forehead, and your head darts up to see Buggy’s hand floating back to him.

“S’not stupid if you’re upset,” he asserts, much to your astonishment. Buggy always struck you as more of the “suck it up buttercup” type. Wait, he was; you’d seen him bark or laugh at pouting crew members more often than not. You had seen him give some comfort, too, but it was always for something inarguably large in scale. Unexpected sympathy from the torch you’ve held longest should have been enough for you to cheer back up, but the vicious fight you’d had with your partner this afternoon still had all your thoughts trending negative. The confrontation had been brewing for a long while, but knowing it was coming didn’t shield you from the hurt.

“Then it’s pathetic,” you argued. “I mean, only sad lovers in sappy plays cry themselves to sleep right?” You tried to play it off as a joke, but the laugh you used to chase it was hollow.

“You’ve been crying?” Mohji asked, worry showing in his face and voice. Next to him, Cabaji scowled and Buggy sat up straight, even placing his feet on the floor.

“Yeah but I’m just being dramatic; I’m a bit oversensitive,” you said, echoing the words your boyfriend had long worked into you.

“No,” Buggy bit out. “I’ve seen you stare down pirates twice your size, coming at you cussing and swinging. You passed the berating month when you got here, and that has had lesser pirates sob their way back off the ship. Hell, you’ve been stabbed and you were more concerned with your friends crying about it.” Buggy snorted and shook his head, distracting you with the way the blue hair swayed from his hat. His heavy leather boots plonked back on the table, rattling the cups and plates, and he shuffled back down into his seat. The look he gave you was bordering on offended. “You’re not dramatic or too sensitive.”

You think your heart may burst - did he really have such a strong opinion of your character? You may have sought Buggy’s presence out because you were upset and you feel protected around him, but you never would’ve dreamed that the outcome would feed your infatuation such a hefty meal.

“He’s been feeding you bullshit hasn’t he?” Cabaji butted in, tone full of contempt.

“He might have… been the one to tell me that first,” you answered hesitantly. Your brows furrowed. Did you really think that of yourself or had he thought it loud enough for the both of you? Was he the only one who thought it? You became stuck looking for answers in the dark liquid in your cup. Meanwhile, the looks Buggy gave your boyfriend had taken on a lot more accusation and threat than teasing.

“See now that’s pathetic,” Cabaji scoffed with a roll of his eyes. “A man who has to belittle his partner is no man at all.”

“Yeah, he’s probably scared ‘cause he knows half the crew would gun for you if you left him,” Mohji laughed. It got you to perk up a touch and giggle with him. Buggy’s hard expression eased at the sound and the sight of a genuine smile pressing at your cheeks.

“Ah, some actual attention would be nice,” you sighed wistfully. Your voice became bitter when you muttered, “Besides digs and requests for sex of course.” Buggy choked on his drink, causing him to pound on his chest in an attempt to recover quickly. The other two were hooting at both your partner’s and Buggy’s expense.

“He’s that bad that he has to beg for it?” Cabaji snarked gleefully.

“Unfortunately,” you grumbled, pouting into your drink. “I don’t really find him attractive anymore either.”

“Oh no, sweetcheeks,” Buggy admonished, “You should not put up with some manipulative brat who can’t even please you.” Beyond his distaste for seeing you upset and mistreated, his glee at the wedge between you and your partner left him feeling fluttery. He did have a small pit twisting in his gut though; why would you even go to him if you were barely attracted to one of his most handsome men?

“See, this is why you’re my favorite,” you sighed dreamily, smitten from hearing him send a pet name your way and from his persistent defense of you. Your words and the lovesick look you gave Buggy had him short circuit. He needed to grab at this train of thought and pull the whole thing from you.

“I’m your favorite?” Buggy rushed out. Cabaji and Mohji smirked at each other before looking back to see how this played out.

“Well, um, yeah it’s always been you,” you mumbled. Before you could stop it, your mouth kept moving. “I’ve always wanted you but felt stupid doing anything about it. You’re just really impressive with how well you run the ship and with your chop chop thing and how you don’t turn people away because they’re different and you’re always there for us when we really need you and also your hair is really pretty and you’ve taken really good care of me - um - all of us and you’re so strong and really hot doing like anything and I should-” you finally took a breath “-I should shut up.”

Buggy stared at you wide eyed, mouth agape. The duo next to him was trying to keep in their snickers and doing just an awful job of it. You took another gulp of your drink for something to do. Gods, you don’t think your face has ever felt so hot. You cleared your throat and said, “I think I should-”

“You’re breaking up with him,” Buggy told you. You blinked.

“I am?” you asked, not upset with the idea but confused at the sudden order.

“You are,” Buggy confirmed. His drink was placed on the table with a firm clunk, which his feet echoed on the floor. When he stood before you, you had to crane your neck up to see him with how he loomed into your space. His expression was one you’d never seen on him before; he looked ready to snatch you up and bite down. His sea-green eyes glimmered through the shadows cast across his face. He jerks his chin at the drink in your hand. “That’s your third right?”

“Yes, Captain, my um-” you gave an embarrassed smile “-my mouth gets affected far before everything else.”

“So you feel okay?” he checked one more time, eyes boring into your own and making you feel naked.

“Yes, Captain.”

“Good,” he started, leaning even more over you and placing his gloved hands on your cheeks. The fabric felt soft and warm and you found yourself leaning into it. “Then you are coming with me.”

Buggy stepped back, leaving his arms with you. One moved around your back and the other behind your knees. They lifted you up and brought you to him in one smooth motion. You still yelped without any jerking, bringing attention to yourself from many of the drinking pirates crammed below deck with you. Flustered, you hid your face in the soft fur lining his coat. Buggy turned to his two highest ranked men. He took in their shit-eating grins and sneered back, mostly in jest.

Buggy moved his look over at your group of friends and most importantly your (ex-)boyfriend. While your friends mostly looked confused (and one giving a thumbs up), the idiot of the hour was livid. Buggy smiled slow and wide, making his canines shine threateningly in the flickering lamplights, and he detached a hand just to flick his fingers in a cheeky wave.

“Cabaji. Mohji.” They straightened at his tone. “Let that one know he’s no longer on my crew and he figures out a way off the ship by tomorrow night or I’m throwing him overboard.”

“Aye, Captain!” They both cheered, tipping their drinks his way.

“Now,” Buggy said softly. He turned and began walking in long strides, expertly weaving through the passing plates, flailing arms, and spinning bodies of his merry band of misfits. The gentle bob and sway of being in his arms managed to settle your scrambling heart and mind, if only a bit. He paused when he reached the stairs to the upper deck. The cheek he leaned down onto the top of your head calmed you even further. “You’re coming with me to my cabin to make up for lost time. Okay?”

Your heart thudded strongly and pressed up at your throat. Your eyes burned. He was still checking in? To give yourself a moment to get rid of the lump in your throat, you turned your head and gave a few soft kisses to the base of his neck. Even through his cravat, the action made him shiver. Finally, you answered, “Yes, Captain Buggy.”

The flight up the stairs and to Buggy’s cabin was much swifter and more impatient. Both of you found yourselves thanking the Gods for his devil fruit abilities when they let him open the way without sacrificing his hold on you. He refused to release you until he was kicking his door shut behind him and tearing off his jacket. You took the time to admire the way the muscles in his arms moved as he threw off his hat. His upper body popped up and flew to you so his legs could work at toeing off his boots. You welcomed him to you with open arms and grasping fingers.

Buggy’s grip around you was demanding, one hand fisted in your hair and the other fisted in your shirt. You happily listened to their directions, pushing further into him and offering him your lips. His decorated eyes closed and his painted lips dove to feel yours, only to stop just a hair short.

“After this you’re mine.” His voice rumbled against your chest and his lips tickled against yours with each syllable. There was a jolt as his legs got back to his body, causing your lips to brush in the closest mimic of a kiss yet. You whined right against the brush of his red lips and pawed at the front of his shirt to ask for more. “Say it.”

“I’m yours, Captain.” The words were barely out of your mouth before he was stealing the breath from your lungs. The kiss immediately became open mouthed; he had needed to taste you since he set eyes on you and he had deprived himself of the chance long enough. It was full of dancing tongues, eager lips, and bumping noses and it was better than you had let yourself hope for.

“You have any idea how long that fucker kept you from me,” he growled. His arms kept you to him in the fervent kiss but his hands flew off to start undoing your pants. Their movements were jerky and rushed and the tugging at your pants made the garment rub pleasantly across your skin. Your body felt alive with the taste of his lips, the pressure of his arms and the pulling of his hands.

“You’ll never think of him again,” Buggy promised darkly between kisses, while his hands began harsh tugs to get your pants and underwear down. When you were stepping out of them, he finally moved back far enough from you to let his hands work on ripping your shirt over your head. Buggy’s lips were back on you before your hair even had time to settle back into place. He nipped your bottom lip and kissed his way to your ear. His hands were making quick work of your bra. “I’m going to replace every bit of his touch on your body with my own.”

Shivers trembled through your body at the feeling of his words being breathed into your ear. The tingling sensation bouncing under your skin only intensified when his hands wedged between your chests and began thumbing at your hardened nipples. While he started walking backwards to the bed, you set on undoing his too numerous belt buckles. You needed to feel his skin on you now. At your unhappy moan, Buggy had his hands help you.

“Impatient?” he teased. He got another whine for his answer. At last, all his belts were undone. The thick one from his waist thunked onto the floor and his shirt followed soon after, pushed off by hurried hands sweeping from pec over shoulder. You hummed at the feeling of his chest hair against your palm and his muscles flexing and moving in your grip. Your arms then wrapped behind his neck, pulling him in to feel his chest press to yours. You jumped at the unexpected feeling of his chest hair teasing at your nipples, making them send pleasant tingles across your skin. His arms wrapped around your waist to pull you in just as tightly, making you feel caged and at his mercy. Groping hands separated from his arms to work at the flesh of your hips and ass, the fabric of his gloves causing extra friction.

Buggy’s lips had made their way back to yours, trailing burning kisses and red paint, and his prodding tongue slid back through your parted lips. Your hurried fingers pulled the bandana from his head and scratched across his scalp, setting his hair free. Blue waves cascaded down to tickle your arms and sweep at your cheeks. Your hands broke through the curtain of his soft hair to rid him of his cravat. While your hands continue seeking ways to touch him, his hands left you to swiftly yank each glove off. When his touch came back to you, Buggy moaned loudly at the feeling of your bare, flushed skin under his fingers and palms.

His hands massaged their way down to the backs of your thighs. While he sat himself down on the bed, he used this grip to pull you into his lap. You shivered and moaned as your bare pussy finally got some friction against the leather of his pants. Even through the thick material, you could feel his length twitch against you. An iron grip clamped onto your hips and set the pace of your needy grinding. “Fuck, sweets, you’re gonna ruin my pants. That wet already?”

“Can’t help it,” you whined. “I’ve wanted you so long.” You emphasized your words by grinding down more firmly against him, sliding easily through your slick on the supple leather.

“Fuuuuck,” Buggy groaned low, throwing his head back at the sensations sparking through him with each push of your hips. He pressed back into you with more insistence. “Wanted to take more time with you, treasure, but you’re making it fucking hard.”

He used his chop chop powers to stay attached to you again, separating from his feet so he could float you two to the center of the bed. The weightlessness and tipping of your balance shot adrenaline through you and had your weight increasing the pressure of his hard on against your clit. You dragged nails down Buggy’s chest in your bid for stability, earning a grumbling moan from him.

You may have been the one on top of him, but it was clear from his controlling hands and commanding lips that he was the one in charge. You’d let him keep that power forever if it meant you kept getting to feel his touch tearing into you and taste his skin and tongue and teeth. The smell of your own arousal mixing with the hazy scent of him emanating from his body and sheets had your muscles turning liquid, save the ones helping your hips lure pleasure from his.

At the next drag of his hips across your cunt, you felt the pressure slide downward and leave you. Your thighs still felt his torso squeezed between them but the lack of support under your pelvis startled you and you began to pull back.

“No, no, sweet thing,” Buggy soothed, “Stay right here.” He trapped you to him with a hand to the back of your head and the other gripping the back of your shoulder. Your sense came back to you a little bit, reminding you of the chop chop fruit, and you relaxed slightly. Foggy eyes watched you as your muscles loosened and you eased back down for your mouths to meet again. The hand in your hair became a fist, urging you even closer, while the other disappeared. The feel of smearing makeup added to the delicious mess of the kiss, all wet lips and sliding tongues.

You slowly raised your hips up in the air, pressing your chest more firmly into his and relieving your thighs of the burn from keeping yourself hovered. Your elbows took the rest of your weight and your hands clung to Buggy’s shoulder and bicep. The air of the room sent a chill through you with how it contrasted to the wet heat you had presented. You weren’t chilled for long though; the draft of the room suddenly stopped reaching you and the bed dipped between your knees as a weight settled there. You felt knees nudging the inside of your own further apart and you happily let them, eagerly arching your cunt even higher.

“Such a good fucking girl,” Buggy growled against your lips. Warm skin met the back of your thighs then the plush of your ass. You let out chirping moans, muffled against his mouth, in burning joy when you felt the slide of his bare cock drag through your lips. “Such an eager little bitch for me; you ever go ass up for him?”

“No,” you panted. “N-no -hah- never, Captain.” Buggy nipped at your lips before he started his way down to your neck. You eagerly arched your chin up and out of the way, getting rewarded with a boiling hot lick across your pulse. Between his ravenous mouth and grinding hips, you were losing track of anything but the impulse to chase what feels good. And all of his touch ravaging over you felt so fucking good.

The way your hips circled back into his had Buggy losing his mind - he needed to grab at every piece of you, feel you under lips and tongue and teeth and nails, and he needed to feel your warm swollen walls wrapped around him. A thought occurred to him and his mouth flung to your ear.

“Has he ever fucked you raw?” It came out as more of an angry snarl than real words. “Did you let yourself be his little slut?” Hips pressed forward meanly, nearly lifting your knees off of the bed with how he was forcing you to arch. “Answer me.” A hand clamped onto your jaw. Fingers released your hair to dig into the sides of your neck.

“No, sir!” you gasped, delicious pain bringing you back some clarity.

“My perfect girl.” You felt the grumble of his voice vibrate from his chest to yours. Your jaw was released. The punishing pressure on your spine eased as Buggy backed off, only to use his free hand to guide your hips back into greedy grinds. You wanted his handprint marked there forever, and Buggy wouldn’t disappoint. The grip controlling your neck jerked you to look him in the eyes. They were blurry and black with lust, looking like they would be quenched by nothing less than swallowing you whole. “Waiting for your Captain to be the one in your cunt? Already knew that you’re my whore?” The clumsy huffs and moans of “yes” that spilled from your mouth went straight to Buggy’s cock, each one making it throb against you.

“Let me.” His knees pressed at yours and you spread even wider, opening up enough for your clit to constantly rub between the base of his cock and his heavy balls. “Gotta be inside you - own every part of you.” His dominating grip on your hip forced the long grinds into tight circles weighted on your clit. Buggy tugged you down in a quick, needy kiss, tasting the whines on your tongue. “Fuck, give it to me; be mine and I’ll fuck you like this every day, buy you anything you want, do anything you want.”

You were so close already, head buzzing from his rabid pleas and the restricting grip into the sides of your neck. Your heartbeat had moved to pound between your hips, matching the rhythm of his hips grinding into you. If it weren’t for his hand at your neck, your head would’ve lolled forward to leave you drooling against his chest.

Buggy’s detached hand slid over your ass to guide the head of his cock to press at your twitching entrance. The moment he was lined up, his hand flipped down to cup your mound and grind the heel of his palm over your swollen bud. His head stretched you wider than you’re used to and you were already tripping over the edge when you felt yourself pop over the rim of his tip. “Gods, fuck, sweets, you feel like heaven.” He kept sliding in, the stretch not easing as he worked you open. “Never -nnngh- leaving this cunt.” The forearm around your back forced you into his chest even harder. “Gonna tie you up and fuck you all day, shit!” His hips finally met yours, rooted right above the palm still massaging at you.

The first drag back, full of his mushroomed tip pulling at your clenching walls, was your favorite thing you’d ever felt. You could only manage its deliberate push and pull, ending with a shove you felt pressing through your stomach, three more times. “Yes -hahh- yes, y-yes -nnnnghaahh- yes, yes, yes yesyesyes”

Bright pleasure tore up your spine to explode in your head and fizzle out through your every muscle. Your eyes screwed shut, your feet kicked up to clench by your jolting hips, and your fingers dug and trembled into Buggy’s skin. You shoved your head down, forehead pressing into the sweaty side of Buggy’s neck, open mouth gasping out hot air and high pitched moans. Distantly, you heard him darkly muttering, “Fucking hell, good slut, goddamn you’re perfect -mmmmnnhh- my perfect girl.”

Buggy’s grip on you became bruising as he held off on cumming with you. He’d just barely got a taste of the squeeze of your cunt and he needed more. He’d grit his teeth in desperation when he felt you milking him so soon after he had adjusted to the blissful feeling of sinking into you. Now he was absolutely sure he was going to steal you away and keep you forever. He needed to feel your pleasure and desperation at his touch every second of every day for the rest of his life.

“Such a whore, so eager to cum for me,” Buggy praised. He was brushing your hair from your face with shaky fingers, guiding you back from your orgasm. He continued his steady thrusts into you but eased up on his palm when your body went limp. You looked absolutely pathetic slumped against him, ass held in the air still being used for his pleasure.

“That stupid boy ever get you to sound like that?” he goaded. The closest you got to giving a response was a breathy “nuh”. Buggy kissed at your hairline and began picking up the speed of his hips. “That’s what I thought. Now be a good pussy and milk me dry.”

Buggy’s thrusts became punishing and insistent, chasing the blissful pulsing clench of your cunt that he felt at the end of every full stroke. The heel of his palm jostled your clit with each slap of his hips against you, slipping easily against you from how much he had you dripping. Even so, your nerves burned in a way that was just slightly too much. You arched harder to try and lighten the sensation but that only angled your hips so that he hit his hand harder on each thrust. Every impact felt like an electric shock, knocking a high and breathy moan from you each time.

“Sounds so good, treasure, keep singing for me,” Buggy moaned, breath tickling the top of your ear. He wanted to slow himself down to hear you longer, taste you longer, feel the hot wet plush of your pussy forever, but he couldn’t control himself no matter how hard he tried. His body clung to and plunged into you, driven by uncontrolled instinct. He needed to grab and consume you until he couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. He’d finally admitted to himself how much he was dying to see and own all of you. Now he had you blissed out and pliant against him and he could no longer stand living without knowing the feeling of emptying his cock into you.

“Captain,” you hiccuped, “C-Captain Buggyyyyy, ‘s too much.” You tilted your head up to moan and bite at his neck, needing something to ground you. The salt and heat on your tongue cut through some of the blinding haze. Your fingers kept digging at him to find some kind of anchor in those slick, tensing muscles.

“You can do it, sweets,” he encouraged breathlessly. “Just -fuck- just be my good whore, just let me hahhhave my fill and I’ll -nnngah- help you rest.” You managed a weak “yes sir” between your moans and whines and Buggy’s hips managed to give you even more. Every nerve he touched inside you was scorching and screaming with the delicious friction and stretch of him pounding into you. Buggy felt the same searing bliss ripping through him, emptying his mind of everything but desire and possession.

Buggy groans, “So close! You’ve been soooooo fucking good for me, my perfect slut.” The hand at your neck had switched back into fisting your hair, so he could drag you up and moan right in your ear. The palm at your clit became a tightly circling thumb and your limp body jolted back to life, clawing, grinding, shaking, and gasping. “That’s fucking it, treasure, need you to cum again and -ahh- I’ll fill you up.”

You used whatever strength you had left to bounce back on his hips. Your used muscles were pounding and swollen, but the praising sounds and extra friction you got with each move had you never wanting to stop. You never knew how good it felt to be fucked hard enough for the force to ripple through the flesh of your ass and thighs and stomach and breasts and you’d do anything to keep feeling it. The crushing grip on your hip kept you steady any time you faltered from your trembling muscles and blanking mind. You don’t think you’ve ever felt like this, so completely insatiable, so deliciously overwhelmed, so voraciously claimed. The blazing signals shooting to your head from between your legs started to burn so bright that they were losing detail. That was until all four of Buggy’s fingers touched the very base of your stomach and pushed down hard.

“Buggy! Buggy! Buggy!” You kept yelping, and his eyes rolled back from the sheer ecstasy of hearing you like this. You were already tight, muscles clamping down hard and winding up for your orgasm but this… There was a firmer pressure with each stroke, especially when he knocked as deep into you as you could stretch, and he was drooling at the fact that his fingertips could feel him fuck himself into you.

“So good, holy shit -hahnngh- you feel so fucking good, treasure, gonna cum,” Buggy was beside himself panting and groaning out for you. His fraying voice became biting and fierce, rabid with need and absolute command. “Need you to cum - cum for your Captain.”

“Yes, sir, yessir please please,” you sobbed into his chest feeling so close but also already over the precipice and feeling everything and numbing out. Your body was going haywire with how good and how much everything felt and you needed something to hold onto.

“Good fucking girl, good -nnnngh- you’re mine, mine, mine-” Buggy’s voice was all gravel and possession and he chanted the only word he could manage when his balls pulled tight and his dick began to twitch. The clapping of his hips stopped, replaced with deep long grinds that had the weight of his jumping dick play with every inch of your walls and you were gone. You keened and sobbed out at the force of the feelings bursting through you and you could do nothing but quake in his grasp. The hot feeling of his cum pumping into you, cockhead tapping down at the push of his fingers on your stomach, had your eyes rolling back and your legs going limp.

Buggy was pretty sure he lost a minute or two there while he wasn’t able to think past hot, wet, and good. All he knew was that he finally got you and it was better than he ever imagined. His heart stuttered at the feeling of your panting breath cooling his chest and your sweet fingers clumsily trying to draw shapes on his skin. They kept falling limp between attempts due to the strength of your exhaustion, but you were adamant in your need to show him affection. His face split in a dopey grin. Buggy just knew you’d be the perfect little love and now you were his perfect little love. A smug snicker interrupted his heavy breaths from knowing he stole you away from that shithead, and he was going to make sure to pamper you so you’d stay and never have to cry to yourself again.

Buggy nudged you to the side so that your spine would get some relief from arching. He couldn’t have just let you straight down without your hips being forced down under the weight of his past the edge of his torso. You weren’t allowed to go far though; he felt as if he’d tear apart anything that interrupted all your skin to skin contact. You hummed deep in relief at the change in position and nuzzled your face into Buggy as thanks. He kissed his bright smile onto the top of your head and began massaging a hand into your lower back. This time you moaned at the relieving feeling, earning a chuckle from him.

“Better?” Buggy asked.

“So much,” you answered. Your eyes and muscles felt heavy and your bones were made of lead. Your breathing had become soft and slow and steady in tandem with his, beginning to draw you under with the promise of a fulfilling slumber. You managed to mumble, “Thank you, Captain,” before you were gone. A more lingering kiss was placed on your head this time. While your mind wasn’t there to receive it, your body felt it and shifted just that much closer into Buggy’s warmth.

Buggy sighed, thinking of the mess that the two of you and the bed were and how much work it’ll be to do the necessary cleaning up. A large problem was detaching you from himself and an even larger and more difficult one was mustering the will to remove himself from you. He gave in to the comfort of holding you, pulling a spare blanket from a basket across the room to lay over you both. Still in deep sleep, you hummed contentedly at the new comfort and warmth, melting Buggy’s heart further. He peppered a few more indulgent kisses onto your temple and hair before snuggling his cheek down into you. He’d decided a little nap wouldn’t hurt.

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

#buggy x reader #buggy the clown #one piece #my writing #thirst hours #anon request #buggy x y/n #buggy x you #fem reader #afab reader #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy #buggy smut #x reader

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blue-devil-of-the-lord · 9 days

Note

Hey, if you have the time. could you write an X-Men 97 Kurt Wagner x reality warper reader who is Magneto's adopted daughter.

Bound by Reality

Kurt Wagner x fem!reader Words: 1,6K A/N: I kind of feel like this sucks, but I hope it's alright anyway

Kurt loves you. That's the most important thing. He doesn't care who your father is or what he's done or how much he himself agrees with it all. He loves you. As long as you love him, that's all that matters to him.

Your power is the most fascinating thing for Kurt. Admittedly, he was quite skeptical at first. He is an acrobat, a fighter and always had to be able to rely on his senses. Especially when you met on the battlefield and on opposite sides, he was initially very wary of you and your powers.

But now, especially after you got together, you are a true miracle for him.

Sometimes you lie together in a meadow or in your bed and you alter little things, not much and it doesn't cost you much, but each time he is thrilled anew by your abilities. He's not shy about telling you either.

Every time you give free rein to your skills, be it in battle or otherwise, his legs go weak with affection. You're powerful, you're talented and between you and me, you just look fantastic doing it. Kurt could watch you use your skills all day, he wouldn't get tired of it.

However, as wonderful as he thinks your abilities are, he sometimes curses them all the more. Using your abilities, especially on a large scale, usually has severe consequences for you. Both your mental and physical strength are stretched to the limit and it is not uncommon for him to catch you at the last moment to prevent you from hitting the ground.

Should you be that vulnerable or hurt, Kurt becomes quite protective. You are one of the most important things in his life and he will protect you with his life if he has to.

Kurt is incredibly happy when you get on well with Rogue, as you are both equally important to him. However, you both have a habit of conspiring against him and he always gets the short end of the stick.

He also gets on quite well with your adoptive siblings. Admittedly, they didn't make it easy for him at first, but Kurt was quite persistent and got all three of them on his side.

You yourself had tried to delay the meeting between Kurt and your father as much as possible, which wasn't because you were embarrassed by Kurt. You loved him more than anything and you were pretty sure that wasn't going to change any time soon. The problem was your father. You were pretty sure that he would accept Kurt in the end, but you knew your father well and knew that he could be more than a little protective, especially when it came to his children.

"Liebling,“ Kurt murmured, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind as his tail wrapped around her legs. "Calm down. You're walking a hole in our carpet." She sighed as her boyfriend spread light kisses over her neck.

"You know my father, you know how he is. He's never approved of any of my relationships and I really want him to like you." Kurt leaned forward so his mouth hovered over her ear. "Will his decision change anything about us?"

She spun around and looked up at him a little indignantly. "Of course not!" A slight smirk came to his lips and he pulled her closer to him by the waist. "Then I don't see what you're so worried about." Before she could protest, he quickly placed his lips on hers, successfully silencing her.

She didn't respond at first, but then gave in with a sigh and returned the kiss, which Kurt deepened all too briefly.

He couldn't hold her in his arms for long, however, as the doorbell rang and she broke away from him, despite his protesting whimpers. She gave him one last look, half warning, half amused, before opening the door. "Dad!"

She threw her arms around his neck and Kurt could see a warm smile on Magneto's lips as he hugged his daughter. "My love." He released himself from her arms, very gently, and stroked her cheek tenderly, a loving look in his eyes. "Am I mistaken or are you becoming more beautiful with each passing day?"

Kurt could see in his mind's eye how she blushed and smiled sheepishly.

"You're exaggerating." Father and daughter exchanged words for a few moments before his gaze wandered over to Kurt. His smile disappeared in an instant and his expression became cold and distant, his hand pressed against his daughter's back. Kurt understood at that moment why she was so worried. That look alone was enough to kill him. Still, he put on his most charming smile and stepped towards him, hand outstretched as he did his best to suppress the nervous lashing of his tail. "Dad, this is Kurt Wagner, my boyfriend. I told you about him," she pressed, and after looking at Kurt for a few moments, he squeezed his hand.

It was a firm squeeze and Kurt was sure he was trying to break his hand, but he kept smiling. "I'm really pleased to meet you, sir." Magneto let go of his hand and looked at him skeptically for a moment.

"A bit bluer and furrier than the last one, eh?" She stepped forward and wrapped a hand around Kurt's arm, a forced smile on her lips. "Well, my taste has definitely improved."

The next hour was absolute torture for everyone involved—at least, that’s how Kurt felt. As she tensely tried to spark a conversation between Kurt and her father, Magneto's piercing gaze seemed to slice through Kurt. Kurt was fairly certain that this man disliked him on principle, which was a significant problem, because Kurt was pretty much in love with his daughter and had no intention of leaving her. "Darling," Magneto suddenly spoke up, but didn't take his eyes off Kurt felt like he was shrinking into the sofa cushions under that relentless stare. "Would you do me a favor and get me another drink?" Her gaze fluttered to Kurt, who tried to subtly shake his head in protest. She stood up, nodding.

"Sure," she replied, though her voice wavered slightly, betraying her uncertainty. She glanced back at Kurt, worry evident in her eyes. "Please don't kill him while I'm gone," she added, attempting to lighten the mood with a nervous chuckle.

He didn't answer, and Kurt didn't like the look Magneto gave him. The tension in the room grew worse and colder once she left, the door closing softly behind her. As soon as she was out of earshot, Magneto leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. One of the spoons on the table flew into the air, spinning slowly between them.

"So you think you deserve my daughter," Magneto said, his voice low and menacing. Kurt's eyes were fixed on the spinning spoon, his mind racing. He knew that with enough force and speed, even the bluntest object could be lethal. He swallowed hard, trying to steady his nerves.

"I wouldn't say I deserved her," Kurt began, his voice steady despite the fear gnawing at him. "I love her and she decided to give me a chance. Something she hasn't regretted yet."

Magneto's gaze narrowed. "'Not yet?' I really hope for your sake that she won't regret it in the future." Kurt swallowed and raised his hands. "Of course not. I just meant..."

"Hurt my little little girl," Magneto interrupted, his voice dangerously low, "and I'll make sure not even your god will help you."

"I..."

"I told her to stop dating, but as usual, she didn't listen to me," Magneto continued, cutting Kurt off again. Kurt didn't know where his sudden surge of confidence came from, but he found himself speaking up. "Maybe you should learn to take a step back from your daughter's life." The air in the room seemed to crackle with tension. Magneto's eyes flashed with a mixture of surprise and anger, and for a moment, Kurt wondered if he had pushed too far. The silence stretched uncomfortably long, filled only with the soft hum of electricity from Magneto's control over the metallic objects in the room.

Magneto paused and looked at him, his face a mask of emotionlessness. "What was that?" Kurt, however, didn't let it get him down and returned his gaze with unwavering resolve. "Your daughter is an incredible woman—confident, independent, strong, intelligent. She doesn't need your permission to be in a relationship. You're her father. It's your job to support her, protect her when necessary, and be there for her. It's not your job to intrude on her happiness or make her feel bad just because you don't like me. If I ever hurt her, you can do whatever you want to me. But until then, just let us be happy and back off."

Magneto stared at him, and Kurt was pretty sure he was going to be stabbed with a teaspoon at any moment. The room was silent, Magneto's expression unreadable as he processed Kurt's words. Kurt could feel his heart pounding, each beat echoing in his ears. He had put everything on the line, knowing that one wrong move could spell disaster. Then something unexpected happened: Magneto chuckled and leaned back. "I've got to hand it to you, Elf, you know how to stand your ground."

Kurt didn't know what to say to that and just stared at him in shock. Just then, she returned with Magneto's drink, her eyes flicking between the two men. She handed it to her father and sat back down next to Kurt, her hand finding his and squeezing it reassuringly. Magneto took the drink, his gaze softening slightly as he looked at his daughter. She raised her eyebrow at that. "What did you do?" "Nothing," Magneto replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Kurt just proved to me that your taste has indeed improved, my dear."

#kurt wagner x reader #nightcrawler x reader #kurt wagner #nightcrawler #magneto #erik lehnsherr #xmen #x men #xmen 97 #x men 97

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muddyorbsblr · 3 months

Text

the warmest bed i've ever known

'one look and they'll know' collection masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: dating era; a few days after 'when the feeling sinks in'

Summary: Tom has convinced you to go back to London with him for a few weeks, and a photo of you two out and about together has opinions firing left and right.

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings (spoilers ahead): language; big hater behavior towards Reader; attempted breakup; angst; brief mentions of past bullying [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: Tomathy fully in his comforting precious bf era

Numb.

That was the only word that came to mind right now to describe what you felt, staring at your screen with all the hateful vile words that people who didn't even know you were flinging your way. And all because of the man you were dating. And how much you looked like a downgrade compared to his ex.

Then again it really shouldn't have surprised you, considering the turn your life had taken in the last few months. Hell, the last few days. There was really no other way for these nameless faceless spineless people to react when the man you'd started dating was none other than Tom Hiddleston.

And the figuratively ridiculously large shoes you had to fill considering the rising power of said ex…was Taylor Swift's.

You shouldn't have gone online. Checked Twitter. Checked anything, really. They rarely if ever had anything good to say, it was a special kind of stupid and naive for you to think that someway somehow you and your relationship were going to be the exception to the vitriolic rule.

Now here you were, screechy voices filling your mind, spitting out the words that your eyes scanned when you opened the cesspool of a sight.

Nothing special

Unremarkable

Fucking stab my eyes out with a rusty fork ugly

To be completely fair, you'd seen worse when you were still in school, every day inundated with the mocking words that sociopaths with hormones on overdrive wielded recklessly like a goddamn balisong without care that the person on the receiving end was actually a person. And if that was the shitshow you experienced from people brave enough to sign those sentiments with their name and say it to your face with chests fully puffed out, then the bravery of these people when they were all snuggled up under the protective cover of anonymity really shouldn't have shocked you.

Finding out who they were behind the screen and dealing out retribution on your own terms would have been a simple enough task. After all, you'd done it before, and even with the current advancements in technology and the tighter security protocols centered around protecting user data, you still managed to keep a few tricks in your bag that you could whip out if the need ever arose.

There was just one thing that stopped you from doing just that. A part of you agreed with the vicious comments. It was easy enough to ignore when people in school were just making hateful pages about how you sucked and how no one would ever genuinely like you. Or when they made pages pretending to be you so that they could dole out their paltry attempts at trying to ruin what little reputation you had at the time.

When you dealt with them on that comparatively smaller scale, it became easy to numb yourself to their words, drown them out until they were just white noise in the background, keeping you focused on the path you laid out for yourself rather than distracting you. It gave you a drive to work harder and better so that you could get as far away from them as possible.

On this scale, the background noise was so strong, so loud and overwhelming that every step you took to fight it seemed to take every ounce of your strength. It felt like there was no way out. You couldn't just hunker down and work hard so that you could get away from it all this time. And you couldn't exactly ignore them, either.

How could you? When they were voicing with pinpoint accuracy every insecurity that plagued you ever since you agreed to be his girlfriend a few days ago. Ever since your first night with him months ago.

So is this some sort of Make-A-Wish thing? That's it, right? She's on her last few months and she wanted to live them in delusion?

Fifty bucks says Tom's active on Raya right now. Quick someone send me an invite link I wanna shoot my shot. Tommy don't worry baby I'll save you from whatever the fuck mistake you got yourself into.

How the fuck do you go from Taylor Swift to that?

The most prevalent remarks in the last few hours had to do with a sighting of you sitting on a park bench, working on creating a wardrobe piece for an upcoming show that, if all went well, would start filming in a few years. The book author and the prospective showrunner got in contact with you after a glowing recommendation from Taika, and they talked about struggling to find the perfect scarf that would serve as one of the series' focal points.

After a few discussions and so many skeins of yarn that there was now an oversized tote bag in your hotel room overflowing with various shades of dark teal and peacock blue, you started crocheting a sample size of the pattern to show the author later on in the afternoon before you went to meet Tom for dinner. And that was how you were spotted this morning, sitting quietly on the bench, eyes on your project while your boyfriend was taking Bobby for a walk.

And for some reason the internet was up in arms over that,

Are you really fucking telling me this boring ass bitch that's giving old lady crocheting a goddamn scarf is fucking riding the God of Mischief every day? Nuh uh nope I don't believe that. Our Tommy deserves someone fun, and actually fucking pays attention to him and not a ball of yarn. Our baby deserves so much better than this.

You stared at the desk in front of you, your sample scarf to the left, and your laptop at the center, the screen now black from inactivity. You couldn't bother to move to check the time; your reminder would ring when your call would start. All you could bring yourself to do was remain exactly as you were, knees drawn to your chest with your arms around your legs, shaking and doing your damnedest not to break out into sobs over the knowledge of what you were about to do as soon as the door opened.

It was a good run, you told yourself. More than I deserved.

The sound of the front door opening jolted you back to reality, the voices finally dying down somewhat. Unfortunately, hearing Tom's voice started the voices right back up again.

"Y/N, darling, have you finished with your call? I was hoping we could go out tonight for dinner and--" His words stopped abruptly once he got to his study, seeing you in the position you'd been in for the last few hours, and immediately rushed to your side, crouching in front of you and taking your hands in his. "What's wrong, goddess?"

"I uhh…I have to go back to Los Angeles. I'm gonna see if I can make the next flight back." You didn't dare meet his eyes, still trying to hold back any tears.

He let out a breath, sounding almost relieved before he pressed a kiss to your hands. "That shouldn't be much of a problem, I can pack a bag and we can be on the next flight out--"

"No," you cut him off, wincing at your tone. "I'm going alone. There's no need for you to go with me, I'm sure you have some other things to do here. Better things."

There was a slight tremor in his hand as he cupped your face, gently turning your head to look at him. He took a shuddering breath seeing the tears swimming in your eyes. "What's happening right now, sweetheart? Please. I don't understand what could have brought this on, we had a lovely morning--"

"I thought I could do this," you choked out, finding it difficult to form coherent words without starting to blubber. "I thought I could drown the voices out, not let them get to me but…they're too loud. They're ruthless and vile and they have megaphones and they're right." You shook your head to turn away from him, burying your face between your knees, the all too familiar feeling of shame flooding your system, shrouding over you like an overly weighted blanket. "I'm not strong enough to do this with you. And you deserve someone better than me."

You took your laptop off of Standby, your screen illuminating and showing him the harsh words that had been haunting you since you stupidly decided to check the internet just minutes after he left the house. He began to visibly tense as his eyes scanned the pages seeing all the hateful things literal strangers had to say about your relationship.

"Look we gave it a shot," you tried to tell him, making a motion to get out of the chair which made him put his hands on the armrests, effectively keeping you in place. "But I think it's time to call it. I'm not good for you, and you deserve someone--"

"No." His tone was low and resolute, hands staying firmly on the chair, refusing to let you go anywhere. From a certain perspective, it was a smart enough move, considering that if he let you go right now, you'd probably sprint out the door in the name of doing what you thought would be best for him. Even if it meant ripping your own heart out in the process. "This can't be over already, we've only just begun. The time I've had with you has been extraordinary and I know that if we keep going, it'll get even better. You've made me so happy and--"

"You'll find someone that makes you happier," you dumbly shot back, the sentiment hitting you so hard that the tears finally began to fall. Even the thought of him potentially moving on so quickly after this already had you ready to sob. "Someone stronger. Someone that can handle all of this or hell someone they'll actually like--"

"Those people don't care for my happiness," he said in a rush, tears filling his eyes as well. "No matter what I do, there's always going to be someone hateful that has something to say, and they'll always think they're right. It's so clear that they don't give a damn about what actually makes me happy because if they did, they wouldn't be saying these disgusting lies about you, trying to get into your head."

There was a desperation in his tone that tore at your heart; no part of you wanted to do this. But seeing every single insecurity that you'd had ever since you said yes to being his girlfriend, yes to going to London with him for a few weeks, and generally just yes to spending the next few however months of your life with him, all laid out in print echoed by so many others? You knew he deserved better than this, better than someone that would ultimately have to be hidden away so that these people would stop coming for his throat for his 'poor choices'.

And when you knew that what would be best for the man you ached to give your heart to was to actually tuck your heart away and run, how selfish would it be for you to do the opposite?

The feel of his hands framing your face brought you back to your thoughts, the frantic pleading look on his face robbing you of your breath. "Do you want to leave, Y/N?" You wanted to scream No of course I don't, I want to stay with you. But you found yourself unable to form words. All you could do was shake your head as more tears fell from your eyes.

He pressed his lips to yours, pulling you into his arms the second you crossed your hands behind his neck and lifting you out of your seat. He didn't break the kiss until he'd carried you to his bedroom, setting you down on the edge of the bed. Then he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead before sinking to his knees in front of you, taking your hands in his.

"Then don't leave. Stay with me. We'll stay in and stay away from prying eyes so nobody gets to say anything about you, we'll--"

"You shouldn't have to make adjustments in your life for the sake of making me comfortable," you argued. "You should be with someone that can face all of this, not cower in a corner licking her wounds needing to be protected if she so much as gets seen stepping out of your house like some tiny helpless baby animal. You deserve to be with someone you can share everything with, without the worry of people shooting you down just because I'm not pretty enough or tall enough for them. You can have anything and everything you want with a snap of your fingers, I'm sure it won't be that hard to find someone that--"

Tom stopped you from letting out another word, holding you by the back of your head and pulling you to him for a desperate kiss. "I don't want anyone else, I want you. I don't give a fuck what anyone else wants to think about how I choose to spend my life and who I choose to share it with, because I know better. You're enough, you're more than enough. And if a few precautions and adjustments have to be made to make sure they can't get to you, then I'm more than happy to do all that and more.

"Our first night together I told you I just want you. As you are. That I want to make you happy." He rose from his knees, pressing a kiss to your cheek and working his way to your ear. "That I want to satisfy you. Do you remember?" You could only nod, trying and failing not to melt against him as he kissed below your ear. "I'm going to add that list of wants now. I want to make sure you feel safe, with every means I have at my disposal."

He guided you down until your back was flat on the mattress, kissing down your neck as he did so, his lips trailing a path down to just over your heart. You found it near impossible to breathe, finding yourself overwhelmed with how gentle and tender he was handling you.

"I want to love you," he said, meeting your eyes with a look that you could only describe as surrender. "I know you're not ready to hear it yet, but this can't wait anymore. You need to hear it. You need to know that the only way for me to actually have everything that I want is if I get to share everything I have with you. I need you to know that your leaving would rip my heart out." He made his way back up, stopping when your faces were mere inches apart. "I need you to know who you'd be leaving." He brushed his lips across yours in a featherlight kiss. "You would be leaving a man so completely, so desperately in love with you."

You tried to speak, but all you could manage was inaudibly mouthing his name, the sentiment you tried to stomp down just a little over a week ago fighting its way back up to the surface. Practically shouting from the back of your throat.

"I love you," he breathed out. "Please, sweetheart. Don't do this. Don't leave. Whatever you want, whatever you need so that we can make this work, we'll find our way through this together just please…I'm begging you don't tell me that what you want is to rid yourself of me--"

"That's the last thing I want," you managed to choke out, your eyes stinging with even more tears. You swallowed the lump in your throat, mustering every ounce of strength you had left to finally say the sentiment you prematurely blurted out when he first popped up at your house. "I love you, too."

You woke up the next morning the same way you'd been ever since you and Tom first got together, his arm wrapped around you, the butterflies fluttering violently in your stomach from how he held your body against his without a stitch of clothing between you two, along with the tender kisses he peppered along your shoulder. It was a routine you'd not only found yourself getting comfortable with, but you were looking forward to it whenever you felt yourself rousing from sleep.

And that part scared the living daylights out of you.

Relationships? Routines? Your mind wandering to that place that you said you never dared think about in the context of being in any kind of relationship again, because the last time you did, the rug got pulled out from under you and threw your life and the future you envisioned into a blender?

You swore to yourself that day all those years ago that you were never going to let yourself get this comfortable. That you would always have your safety measures in place so that you never had to worry about having to scramble your way back up to your feet without any sense of direction.

And you did. You had your measures. You had your walls up. You put your heart under lock and key and said you'd never give it to someone again. Yet here you were, basically opening the chest and telling Tom that it was right there for the taking.

A chest you couldn't close again even if you tried. Even if you wanted to.

The feel of his lips pressing a kiss between your neck and shoulder had you letting out a tiny whimper, making him smile and hum against your skin. "Good morning, goddess."

You were growing concerningly comfortable with that, too.

He moved you until you were lying with your back flat on the mattress, brushing his nose across yours as he gave you a contented smile. "I love you."

You couldn't help the smile that stretched across your own face hearing the words. "Hmm…careful, you keep talking like that I might get used to it."

He laid his lips on yours, giving you a tender kiss as he gently ran his hand down the side of your body before stopping at your hip, his thumb stroking your skin. "I want you to get used to it, because I'll be saying it a lot from now on." His lips traced a line down to the base of your throat. "I love you," he murmured against your skin repeatedly as he kissed along your collarbone.

"I love you, too," you whimpered as he kissed his way down to your stomach, his shaky exhale warming your skin even more. You placed your hand on his shoulder, leading him to refocus his attention to kissing his way up your arm. "I really stepped on the ledge yesterday…" you trailed off, struggling to take a deep breath as you tried to find the words, ultimately settling on the simplest ones. You weren't likely to find better words anyways. "Thank you for talking me off of it."

He took his time kissing his way back up to your lips, never breaking eye contact. "Always, my love." The new endearment, paired with the way he tenderly kissed your lips, had your head spinning. "I'm going out to get us some breakfast. I'll be back in an hour. Go back to sleep, sweetheart."

Those words had you stirring, making a motion to sit up on the bed. "What? No, you don't need to do that, you'll get papped. Gimme a few minutes to get dressed, I'll do it."

"If you go out, they'll photograph you, too," he argued. "Pictures of us are still fresh on their minds, which means these vultures are still very much on the lookout for you out and about, waiting to take pictures in hopes of selling them to the sleaziest gossip sites. Give it a week, maybe two, and they'll refocus their attention on someone else. Them and the internet."

You slumped back into the bed with a soft thud, surrendering to the fact that unfortunately, the logic made sense. You needed a good few days to let your face and those photos fade into relative irrelevancy. "You probably need your team to spin some story on why we were seen together, too," you sighed, the discomfort of having to let the wheels turn in your head before you've even had a bite of food or a sip of coffee starting to make you skittish. "I mean, the saying goes that we can't put the genie back in the bottle, but what if it isn't fully out yet? We still have a chance to…I don't know, mitigate the situation?"

Tom rested his forehead against yours, letting out a deep sigh as he laid back down on the bed as well, pulling you into his arms so that your head rested on his chest. "One day it won't be this toxic."

His words had you giggling, looking up at him and pressing a kiss to his chin. "It's adorable that you think that, but no. But one day maybe the voices of those who would genuinely just be happy for you would be louder than these snakes in the pit with their megaphones. And maybe one day I'll be strong enough to not give a fuck about any of it."

He tightened his hold on you, arms snaking around your body in an embrace that had you falling even more into that dangerous place of way too damn comfortable. "Until then I'm going to do what I can to keep you safe. It'll only be a few weeks at most. Maybe less if we're lucky and someone causes a scandal." He pressed numerous soft kisses to the tip of your nose, breaking out into a smile when his attentions caused you to let out a soft giggle. "For now, I get to keep you in the house. All to myself." His smile turned into a mischievous grin as he rolled you on to your back, rasping the next words, "Like my own beautiful brilliant little captive."

"A very willing captive," you shot back, once again going breathless when he started kissing you all over your neck and chest. "Be careful out there? Don't let them get a reaction out of you, no matter what they ask. Or what they say about me."

"I will," he mumbled, humming against your skin as he placed open-mouthed kisses along the side of your body, nipping at your waist before pulling away. He made his way to his closet, shooting a playful knowing glance at you when he saw how you propped yourself up on your elbows to enjoy the view. "Go back to sleep, sweetheart," he chuckled, throwing on his usual running gear of a black t-shirt with the Legendary logo and black shorts that were definitely a size too small with how the garment hugged and accentuated his hips and upper thighs. Not to mention how those shorts made it all too obvious that your boyfriend happily and proudly chooses neither when it came to the age-old debate of boxers or briefs.

He walked back toward the bed, sitting on the edge and leaning over you to capture your lips in a heated kiss, as if it had been weeks since he'd done it last rather than mere minutes. His hand freely roamed your side, lightly grasping at your hips while he slowly laid you back down flat on the bed. Once he had, he broke the kiss to press his lips to the tip of your nose, then to your forehead.

"I'll wake you when I'm back home. Promise me you won't check on those pages again. None of them deserve our time, or our emotions. I love you, goddess."

"I promise. I love you, too."

A/N: Welcome to the second part of the 'said it first' arc! This would probably be the angstiest moment in their entire relationship and precious bf meow meow really answered her "I'm leaving" with "No ur not I love u 🥺" and we love him for it your honor

Three more parts to this arc and hopefully I can pull myself out of playing my lil games long enough to actually get to writing any of the pieces in my rotation 😅🫡

Here's a gif for everyone who reads 'til the end of the post…this be what the blorbos were like in that last scene:

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover

#tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x female reader #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston imagine #muddyorbs writes

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gallusrostromegalus · 11 months

Note

in that map you drew of the seireitei districts; is there any link between the geography of the real world and the spirit world(or worlds)?

In regards to this map, Which is specific to AEIWAM:

This is the map that's hanging up in classrooms at Shinigami Academy when Ichigo breaks into Soul Society to save Rukia, in which the Seireitei is in the middle and the districts are color-coded with #s 1-79 of each marked as "Full" districts where the Soul Society Governs and collects taxes and the Large, undefined 80th districts where the Soul Society does not govern or collects taxes but they needed to call those regions SOMETHING.

The Map changes SIGNIFICANTLY in the following 5 years as Soul Society finally starts acting like a real nation with Borders instead of acting like it's still the Tokugawa Era.

As far as this correlates to Geography in the Living World however...

Watsonian Answer:

...Only sort of.

See, the Life Machine that generates reality only one of MANY Life Machines, who are all connected but disparate, like polyps that make up a coral. If that coral were some kind of Poly-dimensional Godhead. So the Living World is the four-dimensional expression of the surface of the calcium superstructure between the individual Polyps (which is also a skeleton they all share), and the Spirit World and Hell are the interior of the individual polyps. Maintaining the balance of souls between the living and spirit worlds is really the life machine maintaining it's homeostasis with the colony.

So while a soul can wander all over the living world, once it dies, it gets sucked into the Polyp it's closest to. But not "Closest" in a prototypically geographical sense, but "Closest" in the complex geographical way a multidimensional entity defines itself. Now, these fucking 12-and-14 dimensional barriers between God-Polyps *BROADLY* correlate to our four-dimensional reality, but not totally, so the afterlife of Soul Society is Sort-of geographically connected to "About 12% of central Japan (centered on one city), part of the Black Forest in Germany and an exceptionally deserted section of the Chihuahuan Desert".

Since souls can wander extensively (Not just geographically- emotionally, spiritually, inwardly, outwardly, memetically, culturally, ethically, methodologically, climatically, and just Generally Weirdly) in the living world though, people do not necessarily go to the afterlife of the life machine they were spawned in, let alone the one they expected to go to. In fact, the barriers beteween the dominions of different life machines are so inscrutable to humans that a pair of identical twins can be born, raised in the same house, take over that house from their parents, and spend every waking moment of their lives together and end up in completely different afterlives mostly, but not entirely because one of them had an allergy to celery and the other didn't.

So, *Most* of the people who die in Karkura town go to Soul Society for their afterlife, but not all of them. The Shinigami never notice the people who don't- their souls are immune to hollowfication because they're governed by a different God machine, and they just vanish off into their different afterlife the way ghosts normally go to soul society, and with roughly half of all souls totally forgetting thier previous lives and most missing at least some, or eager to change identities, it's pretty much impossible to track souls from one world to the next unless something WEIRD happens (spoiler: weird things happen).

Hence, Soul Society's total population is approximately five million human souls, and collectively about as many Non-human souls between the Hollows, Beastfolk, and other miscellaneous spirts, which is about the population of souls in both categories in the slices of geography it governs in the living world.

In terms of scale, the circle that makes up the Soul Society (Seireitei + Rukongai) is about 700 miles in Diameter- the Soul Society's borders end where they can no longer reliably get an army of normal humans that has to travel from the Seireitei without portals in under a month (about 11 miles per day, rounded up a bit because they'll haul ass in an emergency), because collecting taxes from farther than that is a PAIN IN THE ASS.

Doylist answer:

The Soul Society is a map of Alaska turned sideways and with a few rivers added in, and it's population is the same as Colorado's because that's easy for me to imagine.

#AEIWAM #an elephant is warm and mushy #Bleach #Bleach fanfic #This doesn't really come up in the fic #for a while anyway #but it's the kind of detail *I* need to know as the author

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shhh-secret-time · 3 months

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hiii! i rlly enjoy your writing and ur one of my fav sp writers so i was wondering if u could possibly write poly style (stan and kyle) fluff with a shy reader! tyyyy <333

Ohhhh ohhhh I'm so soft for this, I'm weak. I love fluff pieces so much and for some reason they're the hardest for me to write! I'm sorry this took so long! I hope you enjoy it! It's Mermaid flavored.

Warning: Strong Language, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, these boys being adorable dorks

Pairing: Stan x GN!Reader x Kyle

The feeling of the waves brushing against your ankles as they continue their dance with the moon is the only thing anchoring you to this moment. Wet sand beneath your feet seem to sink slightly, molding to show the world where you stood. Only for the ocean waves to take it away.

Each time you came out to this secluded little cove you would challenge yourself to find something new. Yesterday you found a little crab buried under the soft blanket of sand. Today it was a new rock sticking out of the water. Just on the outskirts of your vision, you had never seen it before. Your eyes take in the outline and the shadows it cast on the dark water. The only light from the large full moon behind it.

Night probably wasn't the best time to come to the water, much less alone, but you liked it that way. It was exhausting having to be around so many people all the time, most of the time you didn't even know what to say or talk about. It's not that you didn't want to contribute to conversations and be invited out to things with your friends, but it was hard. You needed moments like this.

Moments with the moon, the stars, and the ocean to keep you company. Some nights it felt like something straight out of a story book. Watching intently as the ocean beckons you to come closer, how She sings for you.

Her song is beautiful. A language you can't understand but a rhythm you can feel. So, you sing back to Her on nights like this. With the sky clear so the moon can hear your voice. You only hope the moon knows how beautiful She is.

So, you part your lips and suck in a cool breath. For a moment it catches in your throat, years of teaching yourself to keep your mouth shut takes over. But only for a moment. After a single heartbeat the lyrics pour from your mouth, a second breath and you're sharing a tune with the ocean.

Sometimes while you'd sink things would brush against your legs. Shells and seaweed cling to your skin, and sometimes you like to pretend they were gifts from the ocean.

But they weren't. At least not from the ocean Herself.

They were gifts from your two admirers. The night sky and the large body of water were not the only thing you had sung for.

Two men swam in the water, circling each other in a gentle tempo. Hips swaying gently with one another. Scaled tails twined together so gently like silk across skin.

One colored with dark orange and white scales, with vibrant finned out reds. A deep red that matches the curls in his hair and the small blush on his face as his partner leads him in the dance.

His partner with eyes like the waters they tread. His tail is the same deep blue color with a thin line of silver going down it. Sharper fins compared to the red heads veiled ones. His black hair pushes and pulls against the tide.

The tide that carries your voice and tells a story they can't quite understand. Both men feel it in their chest, the urge to understand. And that urge only gets stronger every time you come out to sing.

At first it was just an accident, they swam too far out. There they saw you sitting on a board staring out towards the ocean. Your legs on either side of the brightly colored plank, swinging them back and forth. You opened your mouth and for the first time they heard you sing.

That strange language, the way it rolled off your tongue had them both in some kind of trance. Deep in their hearts they knew coming back was too great of a risk, land walkers weren't supposed to know about their kind. But the way you sang so gently, so earnestly, it was hard to picture you as any kind of threat. So, like storm chasers they returned. Every night the lovers would come back to the cove that was too far from their homes.

Now here they were dancing under the moon, just like every other night. Tonight, was no different, except of course the thoughts bouncing around in raven haired man's mind. He stops only after you pause your song, looking over at the other.

"We should get closer tonight. I don't think the shells are enough of a gift. The land walker isn't picking them up!" His voice drops to a low murmur as he swims closer to the surface.

"I don't know if that's a good idea Stan! What if they freak out?" Stern emerald eyes follow him, watching as Stan's fingers glide across the surface, not quite breaking the tension.

"What if they don't?" Stan asks, "Come on, we'll never know if we don't try Kyle."

"But we can't even communicate with them!" Despite his protests, Kyle swims up next to Stan.

The man always did have a way to pull Kyle into things he wouldn't normally do. But for Stan, he'd follow him to the deepest of trenches. And apparent by the way Stan takes his hand, he knows he would too.

"True, buuuut when was the last time we did something this exciting. I don't think the land walkers are as bad as your mom says they are." Stan wraps his arm around him and pulls him up closer towards his chest.

"Oh stop, you know she just says things like that to keep us safe. I never bought into those scare tactics."

"Uh-huh, that's why your fins are all fanned out." Stan says smirking down at him.

"N-no!" A nervous stutter and Kyle's fins fold back down against his tail. "Let's just do this before I change my mind!" He breaks from Stan's hold with a groan.

You've stopped your song for the night, content in just getting the emotions out. Normally around this time you'd step away from the caress of the water and make your walk back home. But when you caught movement from the corner of your eye, your body froze. The reality of being out in a cove so far away from town with no one knowing your location sits in your stomach like a brick.

"U...um hello?" You call out to the dark, maybe not the smartest idea but your mouth moves before you have time to think about it.

Your blood ran cold when you got no response, watching as the shadowy figure only got closer. Now that it was coming into the moonlight you could make out small shapes. Humanoid figures, two of them, a bit larger than you.

Somewhere along the way your brain finally made the connection that it should be telling your legs to move. Your legs felt like weights were strapped to them with each step you took back.

Just when you think the two figures will give chase, they stop. Curiosity seemed to be winning the little internal battle as you turned back and watch them. Squinting your eyes to get a closer look at what emerged from the water.

Two men, the water covering their lower waists. Little water droplets trail down their exposed chest, tracing every curve as it does. A breath ticks by, then a heartbeat, before the raven-haired man begins to move again. Out of instinct you look away and squeeze your eyes shut.

Silence washes over everything, even the oceans tides have stopped making noise. Until you hear what sounds like someone slapping the water.

Your eyes flicker over before you have time to stop yourself. You have to do a double take when you see how the man's perched up against the sands. Where legs should be is a tail, much longer than your legs. Blue orbs meet yours and for a moment there's a look of excitement when they meet. The depth of his blues is almost deep enough to make you forget about the fact that he's not entirely human. But when his tail slaps the water again, it reminds you of just that.

The red head circles around in the water a few times. His curly hair clings to the front of his face obscuring most of his features. Between the two of them he looks much shyer and more reserved, like he's waiting for you to make a move. Slowly inching closer to the other, he wades in the water with fins flared out.

They're both beautiful. Unlike anything you've ever seen, myths that have swam right out of a story book. Your stomach starts to do flips and your head begins to spin. It's all too much. It has to be a dream. The one with ocean-colored eyes goes to say something. He opens his mouth, but all that comes are sounds and syllables you'd never be able to make if you tried. When you tilt your head in confusion he stops and looks back at the other. The look on his face is clear, you don't need to speak their language to know the look of, "I told you so."

Their eyes fall back on you watching every little movement. The way your breathing slows. You should just grab your shoes and run back home, pretend you never saw this and go on with your life.

But it's hard when you watch the red head grab a shell and dig it into the sand. When he's finished, he looks up at you and gestures for you to look.

From the way the black haired one's face lit up and tail picked up speed you could only assume he was excited. He wraps his arms around the red head and shakes him back and forth, which only earns him a few grunts and a nudge.

Slowly you make your way over to the men. Just close enough to see what they were gesturing down towards. The fear of being dragged down to the depth by these two was still there, but the other part of you still thought this was a weird dream.

For a shell picked up on the beach, the drawing wasn't bad. It looked like a shaky attempt at a human with their mouth open. If you squint and tilt your head just right it looked like you.

When you look down at him, he grins and goes to draw in the sand again. Lines being dug quickly and traced over and over until they stick. When he's finished, he looks up at you again.

This time it looks like two fish swimming around. Chasing one another in some strange trance. The little spots and stripes across their tails made you realize they were supposed to be the two men in front of you.

The smile that spreads across your face makes their hearts leap. You gestured for the shell, a small giggle escaping your lips when the red head did a double take. The first contact with something so bizarre. Your fingertips brush against his skin as you take the shell and he's sure this is what lightning feels like. A jolt of something he feels every time Stan touches him.

You bend down and begin tracing a pattern in the sand next to his drawing. They slowly move up next to you, watching intently at your work. When you’re finished, they tilt their head and grin, turning to one another and speaking in that language that sounds like rain beating against a car window.

This went on all night, trying to figure out a way to communicate that didn't involve speech. While it was annoying at times, having to play a game of charades with creatures from a storybook. But at the same time there was something so freeing about not having to worry about saying the wrong thing. They seemed to be happy with every little thing you did, every little drawing you made in the sand, and every bit of laughter that came from your mouth.

Stan decided that was his favorite sound. The way your eyes lit up and the way your lips curled to that soft smile.

And there you stayed until the sun crept up, peeking over where He and the ocean meet. The radiance and warmth touched your skin reminding you of the passage of time. Something that seemed to slip by so quickly. It wasn't the first time you were disappointed to leave your little spot, but it was the first time you were disappointed to say goodbye.

The two men watched as you picked your shoes up and gave them a gentle little wave. They left you with one last bit of laughter as they waved with their hands and their tails. Before you could turn away, they flung themselves back into the water. Bodies twist and turn in the water as they come in contact with the cool waves.

The walk home felt heavy, but not in a way that was uncomfortable. The weight of something new, whatever it was, felt good.

Since that night your little secluded space has been accompanied by your two friends. Tracing memories into the sand, learning about one another the best you could.

There was only so much one could learn from pictures. That didn't stop you from trying, however. Over time you learned the two men were partners in all ways. Their love for each other ran deep, apparent in the way they smiled at each other. You didn't need a common tongue to see the love there. How beautiful.

You learned that they only come to see you at night. It took a while to piece it together, but eventually it clicked. Even though they were quick to trust you, didn't mean they were quick to come out in broad daylight. It was just safer this way and to be honest, you didn't mind.

Most nights were spent with you singing to your heart’s content. Watching in amazement as they graced your song with their dance. Sharing things from your different lives. They showed you fish that you've never seen before, rocks and plants. Things found only in the deepest parts of the ocean. And in return you showed them fruits and vegetables, foods they wouldn't normally be able to taste without it getting soggy. It was fascinating watching them react in different ways to the taste of things. The raven haired one seemed to like most of the things you brought, there were a few things he preferred over the other.

But the red head seemed to be a bit pickier about what he liked and didn't. Everything you brought was fine until the day you brought them bananas. Showing them how to peel it and eat the inside, not the outside, was the easy part. The hard part was not laughing when the red head immediately spit it out and tossed it so far into the ocean, that it disappeared in the dark. Even harder so when his partner laughed at him, sounding like waves crashing into a ship.

After you finished the small picnic that you packed, you stood up and began your song. Something you were working on in between nights that you couldn't come see the pair. Nights where it stormed or if the weather was too bad.

And like clockwork the two began their dance. It was hard to see in the depths of the ocean, the dark blues masquerading in their movements. But that was never the reason you sang in the first place; it was just a bonus to have an audience.

Your song is cut midway when the red head swam up to you, leaving his partner with the upper half of his head sticking out. You watch as he twists his body and tail, circling you like he's beckoning you to come into the water. Drawing in a breath, his movements feel hypnotic. In a way that doesn't take away your agency, almost comforting.

Each step deeper feels less like treading water and more like walking on air. The water rises to your waist, then to your stomach, then your neck and soon you're no longer walking but floating. Clothes cling to you like second skin, but the consequences be damned now. You damned them long ago when you chose to stay on the beach that night.

Inhaling as deeply as you can, precious oxygen fills your lungs. You dip your head into the cool water and immediately your hair begins to flow around you. The men stare in amazement, quickly circling you. As one circles your back, fingers brushing through your hair. The other is already in front of you staring into your eyes.

It's like seeing you in a new light for them. Their fingers brush over every part of exposed skin. Watching as you kick your legs to tread the waves.

"It must be hard to move without fins. Looks exhausting." The red head speaks making your eyes go wide.

You can understand him.

"I dunno, kinda looks like they're using their hips! I told you they wouldn't hate coming in the water!" His partner responds with a smug smile.

You can understand him!

"Hmm!" Before you could stop yourself, you open your mouth is shock, bubbles of air floating to the top.

"Is the land walker trying to breath in the water, Stan?"

"I don't know? I thought they couldn't do that."

Stan. The black haired one's name is Stan. You could understand them and had no way of communicating. This is what it must feel to be a fish trapped behind glass. The irony is almost funny.

What isn't is the way your lungs begin to burn. It feels like you just stepped into their world and now you have to step away from it. With a quick kick of your legs, you push yourself back up to the surface, taking deep breaths once you break. The men follow you still circling around you, if you didn't know any better think, they were hungry sharks looking for their next meal.

Their eyes train on you. Watching every little movement just like that night. Past the rocking waves you can almost make out their lips moving. Talking to one another and conversing.

Just as you contemplate going back down, you feel a hand on your ankle. Stan looks up towards you and his eyes light up. Either the lack of air or too much salt water is making you go crazy, it almost looks as if he's asking to pull you back down. It makes your heart flutter to know that you're able to understand them even though you've only known them a short time.

You take another breath and nod at him. He wastes no time pulling you back down towards him. His partner’s hands come down to your waste, acting as an anchor. Their bodies pressed against yours in such a way that reminds you that they're still shirtless. You only hope they can't see the blush on your face.

"So, you're sure this will work Kyle?" Stan asks, his eyes flickering from you to the red head behind him.

"Only one way to find out, go ahead. If it does, we can explain ourselves." Kyle speaks so softly, almost as softly as his hands on your hips squeeze.

You want to say something, ask them what they mean. The little muffled noises you make are enough to catch their attention again. Stan takes a deep breath and looks down at you. But his eyes don't land on yours, they travel down to your lips.

His head dips down slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away. He understands the move he makes is bold. But when you don't pull your head back, when you don't struggle against their hold, he places his lips onto yours. They're soft. Gentle. Almost perfect. They feel like the rocking of waves, lulling you into feeling of mental repose.

It isn't until he pulls away that you realize you're not holding your breath. You haven't for a while. The loss of his kiss makes your eyes flutter open slowly. He states down at you and cocks his head to the side.

"I think it worked? They're not freaking out." Stan breaks the silence with a murmur.

Kyle's hands move off your hips just as Stan pulls away from you. They move around you again watching as you float there.

You open your mouth and feel strange, like your tongue doesn't quite fit in your mouth. But it does, the taste of the saltwater brushing against it reminds you that it's there. A few bubbles escape your mouth but nothing like before. You hesitate for a moment before drawing in.

When your lungs don't burn like you expect them to, you do it again. Breathing out and then back in. Each time is different until it feels like breathing. You look down at your hands and then back at the men who are grinning from ear to ear.

"It worked! Oh shit!"

And you laugh. You laugh at the comment. At the situation. At the jubilation in your heart. You're under the water breathing as they would. Each time you breath in so do they. It makes you wonder if their hearts are beating with yours.

"I can't believe this." Your voice is so small, it's hard to make it any louder.

"I can't either." Kyle responds to you with a chuckle, crossing his arms over his chest. "It was my idea and Stan gets to kiss you first."

He responds to you. Talking to you like it's something he's done every day this week. Between the three of you Kyle looks like he's the only one not freaking out, because as you look at Stan, he has the same dorky grin that you're sure is on your face.

"Wait, but how am I able to do this?! Why can I understand you guys?! How did you know to do this?!" The questions spill from your lips faster than either men have time to answer.

"Kyle read it in some book! Apparently, we used to interact with you land walkers a lot in the past." Stan says circling around you again.

"It wasn't some book dude; it was a journal left behind by someone who fell in love with a land walker. They figured out our kisses grant them the ability to breath under water for a short time." Kyle follows Stan in the circle almost like he's compelled to do it.

"But why?"

"Dunno, I didn't really read the rest of it. I was just excited that we could bring you down here with us."

"Should have seen the way he swam into my room~! It was cute!"

"Shut up!"

"No way dude, you're cute. You just have to accept it! The sooner you do the easier it'll be for all of us!"

You smile at their bickering even though you could understand them, it didn't feel different than when you couldn't. Trying your best to keep up with their circling, your body twists, and spins around with them. Their tails get closer to you with each spin, veil like fins brush against your legs. Closer and closer until their hands are back on your body again. Each time you began to float back to the top, their hands would pull you back down. And each time, their touch lingered a little longer.

"But now you're down here with us. We can talk to you and hear you finally!" Kyle smiles down at you, "Just be sure to let us know if you start to struggle to breathe. It'll be my pleasure to give you more time."

The little hum behind his voice makes your face burn, the flirty tone isn't hard to pick up. It made you wonder if the kiss was just an excuse to keep you down here, if they knew that it was making your heart pound against your chest. Did they put their hands on your hips and arms just to keep you from floating away or was there more to the touches? Was this okay to feel this way?

"O-oh um...thank you Kyle and thank you Stan. For um...all of this. This is amazing, I would have never been able to dream of something so beautiful." It takes you a while to find your voice again, so wrapped up in your own head.

"You don't need to thank us for doing something we wanted to do in the first place. We wanted you down here." Stan's mind almost goes blank when he hears your name fall from your lips.

"I-I just feel like it's something to be thankful for. You trust me this much."

"Trust?" Kyle tilts his head and chuckles. "I guess you could see it that way, but honestly it's just selfishness on our part."

Oh, the leap in his chest when you tilt your head at him, that adorable look of curiosity in your eyes. The water makes them sparkle in ways that gems could never. Stan circles behind him and lays his chin on his partner’s shoulder just as he reaches up and brushes some of the stands of hair out of your face.

"As fun as our little games on the sand were, it was frustrating being so close to you and not being able to tell you how we feel."

Stan picks up where Kyle leaves off, "How happy you made us every time you came out to sing. We had no idea what you were saying, it just sounded like humming and chanting! Now we can!"

"My singing means that much to you?"

"Well...yeah. It brought us together, didn't it?" Stan blinks at you

How could he say something so sweet so bluntly. If they continued this little team attack on your heart it was going to make the water around your face boil. Out of habit you go to move your hands to your face to cover them. But it's like they had a read on your movements and their hands come up to take your wrists.

Kyle takes over and pulls you to his body, his arm moves around your waist. You can feel the laughter rumble up through his chest from how close he's holding you. "Before Stan got the idea to come up to the shores, we used to dance by the rocks for hours. Something about the way you sing, it's irresistible."

"At first it was just supposed to be a one-time thing, but then we came back and there you were." As Stan speaks Kyle twirls you around.

Letting his hold on you go, the momentum spins you towards Stan whose hands find your hips. He lifts you up in the water, twisting his body around in a gentle waltz. When you gasp, he only laughs and lets you go just as your body flips back. Arching your spine, you follow the movement into a full flip where your hands find his.

"Singing again. Pulling us into a trance again, and again, and again." Every whisper of the word 'again' and he gets closer to your face.

Your eyes flutter shut getting ready for another kiss from the man in your arms. It never comes, but the feeling of being pulled away makes you open your eyes again. Kyle's arms, the paler skin, finds purchase on your waist and pulls you down out of Stan's hold. You get a quick glimpse of his pout before he goes to circle the both of you.

"I don't know if love at first sight is the right way to describe it, but you made Stan and I feel something we only felt with each other. So, we had to get you down here. Needed to know everything about you, had to hear your voice and tell you how we felt." Kyle confesses as he lets you go and follows his lover in the circular motion.

You're in the middle of their dance now, yet you feel a part of it. You feel a part of them and everything they felt. Kyle was right, maybe love was too strong of a word but there was something akin to it. Something like you felt for the moon when you sang to Her or the ocean, yet this felt grounded. Heavy like how you felt that night you walked home the first time.

The feeling was overwhelming you, starting to boil over that you were sure that tears were spilling from your eyes. You've never cried from happiness like this before, much less cried under water. What could you say to that? Thank them again? You'd be here all night thanking them until you needed air again.

So instead, you opened your mouth and began to sing. Your voice echoes through the deep, letting the undertow take your song to places you know you'll never see. Even now it's impossible to think about just all the places your voice will carry you, but it doesn't matter. Now when it's lead you here. In this beautiful moment surrounded by admiration and a heart’s desire.

Just as the waves push forward, Kyle rides the momentum towards you. Pressing a kiss into your lips. He silences your song for just a moment before continuing his ride.

Just as the waves pull back, Stan lets it carry him towards you. His lips replacing his partners on yours. The song resumes when he's pulled away.

Push and pull. Song and dance. How poetic that you would fall in love with the moon and ocean.

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x-candy-guts-x · 1 year

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Yautja x human ft worm on a string

I had some more thoughts :)

•It’s really interesting to me how humans are at their core a prey species. You can argue that forwards facing eyes are a trait of predators however it’s seen in basically all monkeys and apes and they are primarily vegetarians. They eat small prey like insects or small mammals but aren’t on the scale of say k-9’s, felines, and other obligatory carnivores. I believe it’s primarily a trait derived from our deeply social species. Our eyes are a huge part of our kinds communication wether we are looking at something or someone. We follow the direction of peoples eyes when talking. It’s been a great tool in our development.

•that being said I feel like predatory species like the yautja would find it fascinating to watch a human go from prey species to brutal predator in a matter of moments due to any given circumstances. Our instincts to danger are typically the five F’s. Fight, flight, freeze, fawn and faint. (For those of you who don’t know freeze is when you become unresponsive much like a deer in the headlight. Fawn is when you try to essentially suck up to the threat and get them to calm down and no longer be a threat. This is usually seen in abusive relationships where people will try to appease their abusor by avoiding conflict or doing whatever they can to get the abusor in a good mood again even at their own detriment. And faint is well.. faint lol.)

•Humans developed carrion stomachs due to our tendency to go after the largest strongest prey possible. We had so much meat we couldn’t eat it all and it would spoil. Our stomachs developed strong acids to kill bacteria in meat that has been sitting.

•humans are one of the only species on the planet to actively hunt the largest and strongest of any animal in a given herd/group. Which I think is something the yautja relate too.

•for humans this was out of necessity. The biggest animal provided the most food for our large social groups. We needed to provide the most food for our people. And our ability to kill from a distance and out do our prey in endurance allowed us to not have to worry about energy expenditure like big cats who hunt alone and need to conserve as much as possible thus hunting whatever is the easiest.

•we did this for so long that we developed predatory instincts. However at our core we still have prey instincts. Your yautja finds that cute. :)

•he is much larger, stronger and deadlier than you without armor and weapons. Sharp teeth and claws with a scaled hide and muscle structure that could knock over a bus is nothing to sneeze at. He absolutely adores the difference between the two of you. Your much smaller form with soft skin and tiny blunt teeth and nails is endearing. But this also makes him extra worried for you when you go hunting. He has to remember that humans are fine predators but only when they have someone else to rely on.

•humans are NOT meant to be alone. In virtually anything. Todays society will have you believe in toxic ideals like pulling yourself up by your boot straps and not needing to rely on anyone. But humans at their very core are meant to be in large deeply socially bonded groups. It takes a village to raise 1 human properly. And our society has forgotten that. Your yautja finds it deeply unsettling when he finds out that your culture is not as social as it seems from the outside looking in. With everyone living so close together and there being so many people in such small areas you’d think everyone would know everybody. But it couldn’t be further from the truth. Single parents and fear stricken neighbors run rampant in most of the cities. So when he sees you pack bonding with a roomba he takes it upon himself to be your best friend.

•that’s another thing. Humans are so social we pack bond with virtually anything. We crave intimacy so badly (not like that you pervs) that we will pack bond with ANYTHING. You name it. A dog? So common. A car? Strange to him but not uncommon for one to become at least a little attached to something important like that. A fuzzy noodle with googly eyes attached? It’s a worm on a string? Ok we’re getting you some help.

•your getting dragged to an oomanologist and he prescribes you a pet.

•your pet ate the worm on a string

•there were tears

•he’s secretly happy about it

•he actually tried to get rid of it several times. Garbage shoot? You walked in on him mid act. Burn it? The bastard wouldn’t even reach the fire because the string kept getting tangled to twigs and branches that hovered above it. A tall shelf? Well he found you sitting on top of the fridge like a gargoyle once so that was out of the question.

•your yautja regularly has to remember that he’s a lot bigger than you and you are so smol. His voice alone can startle you if your not expecting it! There goes the prey instincts again. Loud noises are not your friend that’s for sure.

•did you know that in alien vs predator they used tiger roar sound effects for the yautja roars? They actually do this in a lot of movies and it pisses me off especially when they attach it to things like mountain lions who literally can’t roar but that’s besides the point- anyway tiger roars are actually capable of STUNNING their prey. There’s something about the volume and frequency that actually temporarily stubs other creatures. If the yautja canonically roar similar to tigers and he accidentally stuns you OmG.

•so much purring

•he’s on his knees hugging you trying to make himself small.

•this dude cannot navigate your human home.

•he broke a dining room chair sitting in it

• he’s too big for the hallways without ducking and turning sideways partially sometimes.

•hand holding is so cute. Ur hands are just so tiny compared to his

•he does research on monkeys and sees how grooming is a very important social que and he connects this to humans. Unfortunately he didn’t think that humans were so prudish around nudity so when he just picked you up and threw you into a big tub he was NOT ready for those hands.

•predator instincts activate 🔫

•he almost drowned

•mildly scared of you

•your so small how are you that strong

•when y’all do get comfortable enough though he loves bath time :)

•scratches your little head with his claws (lightly) a lot

•plays with your hair a lot especially in the tub

•your self care routine becomes his care for human routine

•honestly? He fucking prides himself on how well taken care of you are. He flaunts you like you have a pedigree

• “my ooman is better than yours”

•que fight

•you become friends with the other human and while they’re fighting, you guys are sitting in the dirt playing games.

•they come back like ?? Hello? Did you not see us? WERE U EVEN WATCHING?

•you get mad at him? He went and got you new worms

•all the colors

•he has a worm for his ships dash. He chills. Sometimes you catch him playing with it

•I had more ideas but I forgot

#predator x human #predator x reader #yautja #predator #predator x you #predators #alien vs predator

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ineffable-endearments · 2 months

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The Crow Road and Good Omens: Further-Out Thoughts

Here are a few more thoughts; they're more interpretive yet than the ones in my original post about The Crow Road.

I see some similarities between Prentice and both Aziraphale and Crowley.

Prentice feels this need to believe there's something beyond this life, in large part because this life can be ended so quickly and so easily, and it isn't fair. Throughout the novel, he is never very interested in organized religion; his interest in spirituality is truly about the feeling that there has to be a deeper meaning to existence than this one life.

Likewise, I tend to interpret Aziraphale as willing to consider that the people who make up his institution are fallible, but still stuck on the idea that Heaven is performing an essential role: someone should be up there Doing Good, or, more accurately, encouraging people to Do Good. He has reservations about the existing spiritual establishment and how reflective of truth it is, but he still has this feeling that there has to be a greater power and a greater meaning that can be given to people, himself included, because otherwise, what would be the point?

Then again, there is a nonzero amount of Crowley in Prentice, too (and I know the point is that everyone has a little of each). Prentice is a college-aged young man trying to figure himself out in a world that can be profoundly unfair, and he wants to be allowed to experiment with the idea of life after death. Considering perspectives different from one's parents is part of growing up, after all. Kenneth is determined to steer his sons toward a specific worldview, and as much as Kenneth's perspective on spirituality is supported by the narrative, his stubbornness is also ultimately the thing that gets him killed. Prentice observes his mother's hands-off approach to ideology may have ultimately been more effective.

Doesn't this sound a little familiar? Prentice wants to be allowed to question, and he isn't willing to just shrug and accept unfairness without an argument. When he can't find satisfactory answers, he also tends to drown his anxiety and depression in alcohol and other substances.

All in all, I feel we may have seen the conflict between Crowley and Aziraphale playing out in Prentice's character development; they are the angel and demon on his shoulder, as usual. But the conflict was resolved in the way that I think and hope Crowley and Aziraphale's will be on a grander scale. Prentice ended up having to surrender his philosophy, especially the life-after-death stuff, but then his deep need for a sense of meaning was satisfied much better by finding that meaning here on Earth.

There's also an interesting interaction between the two stories in relation to the afterlife. Namely, The Crow Road takes place in a universe that presumably works just like ours, while we know for sure that in Good Omens, there is an afterlife of one kind or another. We can't be sure how it works, but we've seen human characters in both Season 1 and Season 2 maintain their consciousness after death. I wonder if maybe in the world of Good Omens, human mortality is somehow being exploited by the higher-ups?

Anyway, as a result of this difference, Good Omens also has a special opportunity with the "death doesn't give life meaning - life gives itself meaning!" message. Its main characters are immortal. The book already subverts the whole "oh, being immortal sucks, everyone eventually wants to die" trope by portraying Crowley and Aziraphale's motivation to maintain their Earthly lives instead of starting Armageddon. Season 2 added depth to that, and Season 3 has an opportunity to fully flesh out why exactly life on Earth is where meaning is created even when there is no time limit, even if people don't have the inevitability of death looming over their heads.

Another thought: something a little ironic in The Crow Road is that the incident that led to Kenneth's death "should," theoretically, have made Prentice believe in higher powers, if it was really about that. It certainly convinced Hamish. However, the whole conflict between himself and his father was more about the meaning Prentice sought, so instead, it pushed Prentice toward Kenneth's ideology.

I am wondering if this points toward an event that Aziraphale "should," theoretically, take to mean that Heaven is right or all-powerful or otherwise can't possibly be defied, but which will be the very thing that convinces him the entire system is wrong.

Finally, @loverdosis brought up the great point that memory and history are also major conceptual themes in The Crow Road. In The Crow Road, memory and history give the characters their sense of identity. Prentice also mentions it as one way people can achieve a kind of continuity that doesn't infringe on the importance of life itself. And all of that meshes with Good Omens. So far, Gabriel's plot has involved a very strong focus on memory issues, and through that, we've seen that there is something going on with Crowley's memory as well, although exactly what it is - how much of his memory is missing, who took it, whether he can or wants to get it back - is uncertain. Beelzebub described Gabriel's memories as "All your...you," implying that memories are the majority of what gives Gabriel his identity. The memory wipe punishment is very much a death sentence.

After consideration, I would not be surprised to see memory make a roaring comeback as a theme in Season 3. It could even bring themes of identity and purpose with it.

#good omens #the crow road #go3 speculation #s3 speculation #go 2 spoilers #good omens 2 spoilers #go s2 spoilers #good omens book club

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mauesartetc · 6 months

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Redrawing Shadiversity's AI Piece

For context, check out this post here. This is, uh... It's a doozy.

Let's start with the main character of the image. The girl's pose looks very awkward and unrealistic for what she's doing. Her feet are dragging in two different directions that don't indicate the direction she's jumping in, and it looks like her top half is getting blown back in a wind tunnel. According to one of the reblogs on the post that introduced me to this thing, the pose wasn't the generator's doing, but the artist's. "He drew the girl and photoshopped in a picture of a lizard and a picture of a church and had the image generator "refine" it."

I sincerely doubt he used any kind of photo reference for this drawing, as it'd be uncomfortable for anyone's spine to curve backward like that while they're leaping forward and swinging a heavy sword. That just looks painful.

Let's explore some ways we could make the pose look more believable.

I think I'll go with a pose that's close to the original but makes a bit more sense.

It obviously doesn't have the same level of... "polish" the AI version does (we'll get to that in a minute), but the tilt of the spine looks much more natural for the direction she's leaping in and the way she's holding the sword.

Now that we have that out of the way, let's analyze more of the image as a whole.

AI art handles detail in a way that looks good to the untrained eye, but falls apart in the eyes of experienced artists. These clothing folds, for example. There's no logic to the way they're shaped, and the shirt is randomly tight around the chest when it's loose everywhere else. Then there are the scales brought into sharp focus despite the rest of the dragon being blurred, the blood drips that look like stalactites, and so on and so forth. I'm sure there are things I missed, as well. If y'all find them, let me know in the comments!

Something to note about the sketches I made before the finished drawing: They kinda suck. And that's the point. The early stages of a drawing aren't meant to look pristine with perfect anatomy (not to say the finished product is anywhere near perfect, but still). What they are meant to have is energy. Purpose. Life. But AI bros are so afraid to make any "bad" drawings that they don't draw at all (or in cases like Shad's, they only draw the bare minimum).

I didn't make this post to dunk on AI prompters, but to encourage them to put in the necessary work that will improve their skills. And no, I'm sorry, typing words into a box won't make anyone a better artist. It might make them better at describing what they want when they commission an artist, but by and large it's like lifting a feather when you want to gain muscle instead of, y'know, lifting actual weights.

Obviously machine learning isn't going anywhere and it'd be nice to use as a tool to make different steps of the art process more efficient. It's good for silly memes, I guess. But we shouldn't treat the images it spits out as masterpieces, and, importantly, businesses shouldn't use it to replace real people.

Anyway, it's pretty easy to go to the store with five bucks and come back with a decent sketchpad and pens/pencils. Not to mention art programs like Krita and Blender are FREE, and there are plenty of tutorials on Youtube. Just sayin'.

Get drawing.

#art #ai art #shadiversity #redline #critique #artists on tumblr

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clangenrising · 19 days

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This is going to be a bit of a weird question but… will Razor’s twolegs miss him?

And on that note…

There are a lot of beloved cats who ended up in this war, and I know how humans feel about wildlife going after their animals…

Truthfully, I’m worried about retaliation.

(Runningwindenjoyer)

Oh, of course they'll miss him! He's their cat and as much of a bastard he is in his personal life to them he's just a little kitty who's a bit grumpy.

Here's the thing, you have to remember that the humans have no idea that their cats went out and attacked wild cats living in the woods and that's how they died. All they know is that one day their cat didn't come home and unfortunately that's kind of just what happens when you let your cat live outside. Especially in a city they get hit by cars, the get taken in by other humans, they get eaten by wildlife or attacked by dogs or die from exposure. In my experience the owners either decide to stop letting their cats outside or they go "man that sucks" and move on.

Now, some cats (like Milo) are gonna go home injured and get treatment but even then, their humans won't know it was the Clans, they'll probably assume it was the city's large population of feral cats. If anything is going to be done it's going to be shelters and other cat awareness groups making a push for people to keep their cats inside, to get the cats who are adoptable into homes, and to step up their TNR activities to try and cut down on the amount of cats being born into the feral population.

So, yeah, there probably won't be any retaliation, not on an organized scale at least.

#not art #asks and answers #runningwindenjoyer

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according2thelore · 2 months

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omg i love that es sam post!!! imagine him “taking a break” from the three of them. he’s a jealous bitch and feels like they don’t even WANT him around, they all like each other better anyway!! cue Flagstaff Part 2: Electric Boogaloo

gosh!

if sam ran away, it would be an absolute shitshow, lol. i don't know if i think he would full-stop run away. i think maybe it would be a miscommunication--especially since for ES!Dean, stanford is so fresh and raw.

in my head, i'm picturing maybe ES!Sam steps out because he found a lead on a surprisingly non-BS book on time travel at a new-age bookshop a town over and gets stuck out overnight. and honestly, he's not that mad about it. he could do with a fresh night at a motel away from the Sammy and Dean show (and will not admit that it stings that he's not the 'sammy' in question). plus! sunlight! he hadn't realized how dark and damp everything is underground until he actually has a room with a window.

at first, as much as it sucks to admit, no one really notices at first. ES!Sam has really tried to distance himself from everyone (much more at the beginning of this ordeal than a few weeks in), and spends most days either archiving a storage room that LS!Sam told him about just to have something to do or in he and ES!Dean’s room avoiding them.

so LS!Dean is the first to notice. he's just had the idea to maybe reach out and offer the kid a grilled cheese for lunch. but...he can't find him. anywhere.

he goes to ask ES!Dean&LS!Sam who are tucked in next to each other in one of the armories, giggling, and LS!Dean gets distracted for a bit at how irritating--and honestly?? kind of arousing--they are together.

they "split up and look for clues" as LS!Dean puts it, quite excitedly, and ES!Dean kind of flushes like 'wow you're such a dork' but he's practically skipping down the hallway and LS!Sam rolls his eyes.

once their search turns up no sam...it's Hit Every Alarm Bell Time.

ES!Dean is the most freaked out. what if ES!Sam got taken back to the past without him? what if ES!Dean's stuck here? what if whatever brought them both to the present kidnapped him? he's guilty because he should've noticed it sooner. he's been spending so much time with LS!Sam that he didn't even notice his own little brother was missing for what? hours? dean's little brother is his whole thing! and he didn't even notice! not to mention stanford is still so fresh for ES!Dean that he's absolutely the most freaked out about the Lack of Sam, and therefore absolutely the least helpful.

LS!Dean is in the middle. that is to say, on a scale of 0 to rip the building apart brick by brick ("hey, stop it kiddo, he's not in the fucking walls." "shut up, old man!") he's a 7. a Missing Sam is a Missing Sam, okay? you could bring any dean (even squirrel dean) in and tell him this, and that's a category five disaster. and this sam is small!!!! and alone in the world!!!!!!! he's calling local hospitals and jails, before widening the search. he's probably even on "foot" patrol (patrolling motels and town with Baby) which he drags ES!Dean into, because that poor kid's fourteen seconds away from having three concurrent heart attacks.

LS!Sam checks ES!Sam's search history. he promises to do a more thorough up-and-down of the bunker, including investigating if any of their artifacts that they've got spilling out of old boxes in almost every room, have the power to transport people. but then, he sees the laptop in ES!Sam's room (kid has a FASCINATION, and LS!Sam cringes to think of a time before laptops were widely available). and okay, yeah. let's check his search history. after 'curious college twink gets ass ate large hunky man hunk bearded middle aged' and oh. okay. ES!Sam found internet porn. cool. (LS!Sam does not notice that the 'hunky man hunk bearded middle aged' has light brown hair and a strong jaw and does not remember the website and thumbnail. because that would be weird!) LS!Sam sees the bookshop.

he calls LS!Dean, and he comes back so they can all hop the town over to go collect him.

they find him immediately under "dean plant" at a motel on the edge of town closest to lebanon.

he's groggy because it's five in the morning. the storm from the night before has barely cleared, and the smell of wet concrete hits him before he's even full awake as the door slams open.

he's got three guns pointed at him (two identical ones, one significantly less scratched than the other; and the third is very familiar) and an ES!Dean that immediately falls upon him like a regency woman reuniting with her long-estranged husband returned after years of war.

LS!Sam keeps trying to calm the situation down with calm words and an annoyed glance at ES!Sam but mostly calm. and LS!Dean is just pissed.

"where'd you go? why'd you go? why are you here? the storm? yeah i guess it was kind of bad. but that's no excuse! oh they closed the bridge because of the flooding. well you could have called! no phone. hm. well. you can't go disappearing like that, kid."

and ES!Sam is kind of equally pleased and annoyed. because honestly, he didn't think they would really notice. he didn't think he was an integral part of this machine that they occupy. he thought he was the weakest link, but they chased him down (even if it was only twelve miles) and—

(and ES!Sam tries not to think it, but it reminds him of a sermon at the church he visited once a month with brady, before brady stopped going to church (the church that made sam's feet tingle as in his shoes as soon as he stepped on hallowed ground); about the shepherd chasing down the wandering lamb, and how fucked is it that sam's thinking, in part, about himself? some bigger, stronger, wiser version of himself bringing him back into the fold? it makes sam shudder a little, bc sam didn't even question the part about dean being god, just himself.)

and later that night is when ES!Sam gets his first "we"--LS!Sam pulls him aside after dinner, and says quietly,

"we can't disappear on dean, okay?" he's quick to continue, because he can see the beginning of ES!Sam's indignant protest. "it was an accident. and they shouldn't've freaked out like that. but we go through...a lot. and he needs us. even in 2006. and he's glad we're here."

ES!Sam shrugs him off, but later that night, when he says goodbye to ES!Dean, he says "goodnight jerk," and dean relaxes against the doorframe. and sam thinks, maybe this isn't the worst thing that's happened to them. not as long as they're all in it together.

every time i say "oh this ran away from me" and UGH! every time it's TRUE! flagstaff pt 2: electric boogaloo would end with a lot less tears and anguish on all parts involved, i think. but like any good sequel, it would increase the stakes (TWO deans losing their minds + a bonus sam!).

thanks for this ask, anon! my brain really took to it, lol!

-lizzy <3

#ask box #lizzy answers #ES/LS verse #anon <3

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