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#free health care for all except him
gum-iie · 1 year
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he bites
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dropitpunk · 6 months
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how intimacy with coriolanus snow looks like
cw: nsfw, coryo x gn!reader, mentions of self pleasure and oral sex, a very jealous man.
he definitely likes to be around you and to know your whereabouts all the time.
coryo doesn't shy away from being naked in front of you or showering together, and is very comfortable just being watched by you.
he's comfortable in your presence, so you can expect silent walks in the city or his honed eyes staring wordlessly at you.
coryo needs to have his hands on you someway, he will be playing with your hair or squeezing your thigh under the table.
a dangerous and constant hand on the small of your back, almost the swell of your ass, bordering the inappropriate when you two are in public.
he loves the way you smell everywhere.
"coryo, stop." you giggled with flushed cheeks as his nose went down your thighs. tongue leaving wet traces on your skin, sharp teeth marking immaculate flesh.
"you smell so good," he stopped when he reached your inner thighs, looking up at you with shimmering eyes. "makes me wanna fuck you all day. give you no time to recover."
his soft lips kissed your skin with care, preparing you for what was to come. "I swear I can smell you from my office, ready for me."
loves having a hand under your pants when you're reading before bed, teasing you and making you stutter your words.
"go on, what's the name of the next chapter again?" coryo smiles, a wicked glint in his beautiful eyes. he keeps a light hand on you while the other finds the way to his own shorts, already devouring you in his head.
he touches himself shamelessly, hard chest glistening in the dim light as his hand works on his cock. you try not to look, but he dares you in so many ways.
when you give up, he's smiling, both hands wet from yours and his arousal.
teaches you how to give him a good blowjob.
"you know I'm big, why do you keep your jaw so tense?" he caresses your face to prove his point, copious amounts of drool running down your chin.
"i'm sorry," you whine when the pressure from his hand on your head eases up, allowing you to search for air. you don't realize you're crying until you feel his fingers cleaning your tears, smiling down at you like an owner would to his pet.
"it's okay, you're learning." the hand forces your head down again, and this time you can take all of it in your throat.
coryo always gives you bedroom eyes after you kiss. it can be an innocent peck before he leaves for work, but he will find a way to make you embarrassed.
actually frowns if you mention a man that isn't him. he's easily jealous.
"you can't actually be mad at me. let's just talk, please." he brings your hand to his chest, pleading eyes winning your heart and making your anger subdue.
"there was no reason for you to lose your temper. he was just being polite." you reason, he rolls his eyes.
"and he waited for me to be away from you to be polite?" he scoffs at your words and you free your hand from his hold, looking away.
"you need to learn to control yourself, coriolanus." your voice is a bit shaky, insecure.
his heart aches at the emotion in your tone, but guilt is not what overcomes him.
but trust, you will never go to bed angry at him. he will make sure of that.
coryo makes sure you go to sleep laying on his chest and when you wake up you need to be next to him.
coriolanus is very protective of you and your health and if you're feeling unwell he will do everything in his power to make you feel better.
feeding you soup? just sit down and open your mouth. bathing you? he will spend minutes and minutes making sure the water is perfect for you. brushing your teeth and drying your hair? he's on it already.
when your relationship is in a more advanced stage, he insists on picking out your clothes. you question it, he answers is just a detail, to make sure you look your best. you're his property, his doll.
coryo doesn't hide secrets from you, except the ones that can harm you.
a/n: can we be normal challenge
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bunny584 · 4 months
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OBSESSED: NANAMI (PT. II)
A/N: Because our collective husband won the contest. Gege texted me saying obviously Nanami would win. He also said if I don’t post a second part immediately Choso gets the boot next season. So I’m doing this for ALL of us 🤗 (I swear, I swear I’m 90% done with H&H for those of you that follow/have tolerated my lollygagging).
C/W: Fluff, Breeding, Mature, 18+
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“It wasn’t over…it still isn’t over.”
Lines from The Notebook bubble from your lips onto Nanami’s bare chest. You’re curled onto him like a Cheshire cat. Your pretty, flushed mouth pets him. Followed closely by muffled sniffles. You bury your misty eyes and runny nose into his ratty, old college baseball shirt.
The one washed heather grey from the days turned months turned years of your careful handwashing.
I can get you another shirt, my love.
But I want this one, Ken. It reminds me of when we first fell in love.
Your answer is the same whenever he offers. Pouring all of your being into mending the natural little holes, the frays, and strain that comes with time.
His precious girl.
You nurse his shirt back to health, time and time again. In the same way you kiss him on rainy Sunday mornings. And pull him into the kitchen to dance with you under candlelight. And sneak extra food into his packed lunch on days he has to work overtime.
You are celestial.
With you he’s entrenched in the Heavens.
With you he builds the palatial wings of his own personal Icarus. Flying close, nearly too close, to the blinding warmth of your Sun.
“It’s so romantic, isn’t it?”
You shift up higher on him. Torsos melding together. Both your thighs cradled between his pajama clad legs. Nanami drags his fingers along your delicate spine.
God, he revels in you like this.
“It is, baby.”
Nanami catches the glassy mosaic in your eyes. Worthy of display in the Sistine Chapel.
You quickly bury your head into his neck, embarrassed about crying over a movie you’ve both seen over 10 times.
“I’m being so ridiculous, I’m sorry. It’s the stupid, dumb, stupid hormones.”
You press a cloud soft kiss into his chest and it reverberates down to his thundering heart.
Truthfully, Nanami has spent the entirety of the film watching you.
Tiny wrinkles in your button nose during some scenes, giggles and full belly laughs at others. You try to bite back your sobs. Slap away your tears before they splash against his abs — like they don’t correlate with the same points in the plot everytime.
He purposefully chose The Notebook after dinner because of your reactions. Just so he could fall in love with you all over again.
Just like Icarus.
Who fell from flying too close to the Sun.
Because loving you feels like a blissful free fall. With no ground in sight.
“I can’t wait to marry you.” The words flow out of Nanami. He can’t seem to contain it.
A pretty gasp escapes you. You pull away from the TV to shift closer to his face.
“Oh, Ken. I can’t wait to—“
“Kiss me.” His voice is throaty, laced with growing need.
Such an obedient girl.
Your lips are addicting. A fiend’s paradise.
He surges his hands in your hair while his tongue traces and tastes every corner of your mouth. You whine into him. He sucks on your tongue before taking your bottom lip into his teeth.
“Baby,” You breathe against his lips. Gentle pants melding with his.
Nanami kisses a hushed I love you into your mouth, before shifting your bodies on the plush couch.
His cock has been throbbing the entire movie. His shirt has inevitably shrunken over the years. Where it used to fall past your mid thighs, now it rides halfway over your hips.
Your plump, perky ass has been in plain view the whole night. Nothing protecting you from his invasion except for a thin, baby doll thong. Navy. Like the letters on his alma mater’s shirt.
Because your body is in heat, preparing you for a baby, your breasts are noticeably larger.
Filling out his shirt in the most mouth watering way. Your nipples, hard and sensitive, enticing him with every miniscule movement.
God, the way you wince and squeal when you brush your buds too harshly against him. Or whimper when the supple, puffy flesh of your tits push against his rigid body a little too hard.
His cock bucks off his thigh every single time.
The next 3 days Nanami will be reduced to the most rudimentary version of himself.
He’ll follow you around the house like a lap dog. Burying his nose and mouth and lips and tongue into every part of your body. He’ll grope you. Rub his crotch into you at every turn. Cum from just sucking on your nipples, if you let him.
You two have decided to abstain from sex when you ovulate. Until you are ready to create a love child.
He says you, because Nanami is fully ready, eager, to have mini-yous filling his home with life.
And really, he’s happy to let you dictate your family planning.
But the next 3 days will be torture. His needy, oversensitive heavy cock will drive every thought. He’ll jerk off more times than he can count.
Nanami is on his back now, with you perfectly perched on his manhood. Nothing but your thin panties cupping your precious little cunt. His length tents right up against you, begging for entry.
Both of your warm hands caress each hill and valley of his abs. Little crystals line your wide, puppy eyes. Tip of your nose so deeply flushed from all your tears. Cheeks dusted rose from your sex rubbing against his in this position.
No matter how many years you two have been intimate, you always blush, and squirm, and look away and hide your face like it’s the first time.
And it just makes him want to bury his cock in you. And take you. And worship you. And keep you swollen with his cum.
“How did I get so lucky?”
Again, Nanami means to think the statement but it rolls off his tongue on its own accord.
“D-do you mean that?” The way your bottom lip quivers makes his cock drool.
“My love. Your name was etched into my heart from the day I met you.”
Nanami pulls himself up so that your chest collides with his. You whimper at the sudden contact and the sound decimates his brain.
He crashes his lips into yours once more.
Your sweet mouth is blinding. You immediately evanesce into him. Little “ohs” and little “mmms” escape you in the pockets of breath Nanami allows you.
His cock jerks violently against your warm, dewy folds. Your arousal has soaked through your measly barrier. Now mixing with his, staining his sweats.
“Oh sweetheart,” Nanami husks against your lips. His fingers go to move your thong aside and are now drenched.
“So wet for me. Such a needy girl.”
He circles your puffy clit twice. And you buck against his veiny hand.
“Mmnnggh…oh god, K-Ken..” broken little moans kiss Nanami’s neck, while he pets your soaking wet folds.
“My precious girl,” he muses, fully aware of how pliant you become under his sweet words and light touch.
Nanami shifts his hips upward, just to avoid his legs falling asleep. But the sound that emanates from your lips is mind altering.
The friction from his fingers on your sensitive bud and his barely clothed, steel pipe length bullying into your opening drives you to see stars.
You bury your head back into the crook of his neck. So embarrassed about the way your hips start rutting against his cock. Slowly. On low autopilot.
Nanami grips your fleshy ass with his free hand. Pushing you deeper onto his rod every time you hump him.
“Oh yeah, baby?”
He gently teases into your ear. It’s such a fucking turn on. You rutting against him so desperately. Blushing up to your ears. Trying and failing miserably at fighting your body when it’s in heat like this.
Your nails dig little crescents into Nanami’s back. Small little puffs of air feather his skin.
“That’s it, pretty girl.” Nanami huffs.
“Use my cock. Make yourself feel good.”
You mewl at his words. Frustrated that the friction you want, need, is escaping you.
“I-I’m so…” words broken by your sloppy, desperate humping. Nanami grips your ass tighter. He suspends his hips upward to help you.
But his adjustments just make you whine louder. Pulling your face out of his neck to glare at him. Little frustrated crystals fall from your eyes. Your pupils are completely blown. Eyelids heavy. Nostrils flaring.
Fucking hell.
He could cum from just looking at you right now.
You need his cock. It feels criminal not to sink into your begging, decadent, pretty little cunt right now. When your body has worked so hard to prepare you to be stuffed and bred.
“I’m so horny,” another salty tear rolls down your pretty face.
And Nanami has to look up at the ceiling.
Because you say things like that.
While dripping around his dick. With your puffy tits and lips. Wearing his shirt that reminds you both of when you first fell in love.
How can you expect him to maintain any decorum?
“I-I-I love you with all my heart, Kento.”
And, he’s off.
You snap his last remaining string of self control in half.
Nanami takes another bruising kiss from your lips. His hands start dragging his shirt over your head. And you immediately moan into him.
“Be gentle with it!” You scold through delirious groans.
He can’t help but smile against your lips. His sweet, tender hearted future wife. So protective. Even if it’s just a cotton t-shirt.
“Forgive me baby, I’ll be more gentle.”
Willing his hands to move a beat slower. He pulls the prized possession over your head and sets it on the couch ledge behind you.
His eyes instantly drop to your sensitive nipples. And you squirm away from his searing gaze.
“My beautiful wife.” Nanami murmurs.
He places feather light kisses on your sensitive mounds.
Your tiny fingers wire through his hair and gently tug. And Nanami’s cock twitches in return. Leaking more of his arousal onto the mess you both have created.
“Can I make love to you baby? All I need is my tongue.”
Grit in his tone almost sharp enough to nick your skin.
You roll your bottom lip under your teeth. Wanton and utterly fucked out, you drop your hand to his crotch for the first time. Evoking a loud hiss from your soon-to-be husband.
“I want to feel you.” Hot desire woven throughout your angelic features.
Your voice calls to his manhood. The last remaining blood in his brain diverts directly to his groin.
“I…” Nanami pulls in a deep, shaky breath.
“I won’t be able to pull out, pretty girl.”
You take a kiss this time, swirling your sweet tongue around his. Nanami melts into your mouth like chocolate. Palming both of your hips with his large hands.
Pull out? He won’t be able to last more than 5 seconds inside you at this rate.
“You’re my husband,” your dulcet voice absolutely fucking his brain.
“And I want to feel you.”
Nanami has to bite back a pathetic whine. There’s barely 3 seconds left before he’s thrusting into you like the caged animal he is.
“Sweetheart, I could…” No, he knows he will.
“I will get you pregnant tonight.”
He offers you the last warning he’ll be able to mumble before he starts.
You cup his face. Place a chaste kiss on his swollen lips and grind onto his helplessly rock hard cock.
“Then let’s make a baby.”
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jenroses · 7 months
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Hey! Please feel free to ignore but you did say to ask you about masks :P the ones I've found that are multiple layers for max protection are really stiff, which squishes my face and leads to gaps. Do you have recommendations? Thanks!
I know that there's a lot of noise about elastomeric masks but for me they're a nonstarter because of the stiffness you talk about. I think it's important to understand that most of the 94-95 standard masks that actually meet that standard are going to be plenty good enough where most people are concerned. Is it possible to catch Covid with a mask on? Yes. I've done it.
Is it likely? No. I'm immune compromised. This isn't data, but our experience has been that a combination of masks, reasonable common sense and good filtration are enough that despite having a school-aged child, a husband who travels for conventions, and me, immune suppressed, with a college student living in our house, I have only had covid twice, the first time was an unfortunate collision of me going to a store at the wrong time where a clerk had both covid and the flu and gave them to me, and the other one involved a family member not using a mask at a public event while eating. Even then, when I caught covid and the flu at the same time and isolated immediately with filtration and everyone coming into my space being masked... not one other person in our house caught it, and when someone else caught it a year later, the only people who caught it were sharing sleeping spaces. Our roommates did not catch it, and everyone was masking from the moment of the first positive test. When my kid got half-assed about masking at school, he immediately got flu and strep at the same time. I pointed out that his lack of care about it could mean a lot of missed school for him and serious health impacts for both of us, and he started wearing a mask again, and did not get sick for the rest of the school year. He HATES the masks that go behind the head and wears Armbrust kn95 masks exclusively (dark blue, lol) And it's pretty clear that without the masks he was getting sick a lot and with he just...doesn't. He is wearing them all day except for lunch through full school days, so that says something. Armbrust will send little behind the head doohickies to keep them off the ears but he never uses them. At $2ish per mask they're not the cheapest but he uses one mask for multiple days so it's not too bad overall cost wise. They have kid sizing, but he's in the regular adult size now at 11. Now, I'll talk about Armbrust for a minute because I really like the company. On pretty much every mask they sell you'll see a video of one of their people reviewing the mask and going over testing data... but they ALSO have reviews of almost every other mask on the market, bad, good and in between, and if you find a mask on Amazon or something and want to know more about it, search the mask name and "armbrust" and the youtube video and product data page will pop up. I've found several special masks for very particular needs by looking through their database for combinations of breathability and shape that weren't even masks they sold. So if you are struggling, take a look at the database, eliminate "failed" masks, look for the ones that meet your needs and then watch the video to see what he says about them first. There are some VERY inexpensive masks out there that work very well, and some masks that are incredibly breathable or incredibly high filtration and a few unicorns that are both.
Now Hubby is okay with the same KN95 masks that our son likes but he exercises and his lungs get a little touchy sometimes so he needs maximum ease in breathing, so using that database I found Dr. Puri masks. Here's the Armbrust review. Here's the listing I found them on. Hubby LOVES them. He also prefers behind the ear. About $1.50 each.
I *hate* behind the ear with a hot hate, they bug me. But I can't just use one type of mask all the time because I have EDS and neck issues so pressure there can be awkward, plus I get short of breath sometimes anyway (history of pulmonary embolism that long predates covid) and I have sensory skin issues.
Bar none the most breathable mask I've ever tried, which also does not fog my glasses, is the Drager mask. These are soft, extraordinarily easy to breathe through, and have a unique strap that makes on/off very easy, and lets you pull the top strap and let it hang around your neck if needed. Unfortunately it has a VERY snug fit across the nose and leaves marks on my cheeks, or it would be perfect, but it's a good option, and possibly someone with a smaller face would have an easier time. These are possibly the best filtering and most breathable masks on the market, so for high risk situations this is the mask I would use. They filter 99.7% in testing. They're a little more expensive at about $1.25 per when I checked today. For a good intersection of fit and comfort, but a little less breathable, are the ACI N95 surgical respirator duckbills. These do not leave marks, don't fog much, good seal around the face, and the single most comfortable head strap I've ever seen. The fabric is very smooth, it is sensory good, but the breathability is not as high. It's not hard to breathe through, it's just not as easy as Drager or Dr. Puri. But... They could probably pass an N99 standard by Armbrust's testing, as they filter >99.4% of particulate, where the standard is 95%. These are also incredibly cheap. If you get their subscribe and save discount (you can do every 6 months) you can get 50 for $25, so 50 cents apiece.
All of these masks are pretty soft, easy to wear, and very good at what they do.
The TL:DR though.... The important thing is to find a mask that you will wear consistently and correctly every time you need it. A mask that hangs on your face and slips is not a good mask for you. A mask you hate so much you make excuses not to wear it is not a good mask for you. A mask that breaks easily or makes it hard to breathe so you end up taking it off is not a good mask. If what you have isn't working, there are LOTS of things that might.
Last Armbrust plug: THEY HAVE A SAMPLER PACK. You can buy a pack of a zillion different types and styles of mask and try a bunch! And order the one you like best! If you aren't sick, one sampler pack can be tried by the people in your household so everyone can figure out what works for them!
Also, I used to get sick very very often and now I just...don't. Not from contagious viruses, anyway. I don't understand why people are so cavalier about it. I've been sick less since 2020 than in any given six month period in my entire life. Despite being on immune suppressants.
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13uswntimagines · 4 months
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I'll Take Care of You (Alessia Russo x MMA!fighter R)
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Request: Could we maybe see some slightly more stern dom alessia dealing with r (doesn’t have to be smut) in front of the team because reader starts acting bratty with them?
Part of the same universe as the come down.
Warning: Slight touching but not actual smut. Also D/S fic
Author's note: Hey Y'all, i really hope you enjoy this. I want to point out that D/S dynamics are based on trust and communication, so that's what I chose to focus on. Alessia is a soft dom, and chooses a punishment that she knows will be effective. If you want to chat or have any ideas or comments, feel free to hit me up.
Gearing up for a fight was the equivalent of stretching out a rubber band to its limit. It was 8 weeks of nonstop training, 4 weeks of conditioning your body to shed water so you could make weight, 2 weeks of cameras following you around for UFC embedded, and 1 week of media bombardment where you had to listen to grown men act like 5-year-olds talking about who was going to beat who.
It was utterly exhausting. 
The only upside was that at the end of it, you got to step into the octagon and do what you did best. 
You got to put the plan your coaches drilled over and over into your brain into place. You got to release all of the built-up anxiety and frustration from camp. 
You got to fight. 
It was like coming up for oxygen after being trapped underwater. Sometimes the cage felt like the only place you could really breathe on your own. 
It had been your safe haven for almost as long as you could remember, which was kinda strange considering your health was put at immediate risk every time you stepped inside. It had been your escape from your family, and your only coping mechanism for as long as you could remember. 
To go through training camp, and fight week and the weight cut, only to have your fight pulled at the last minute was fucking devastating. 
It was like when Alessia brought you all the way to the precipice of an orgasm and then pulled away just before you could tumble over it, except far far far worse. 
It made your blood boil. It made the monster in your chest roar that your opponent couldn’t do his end of the job to make the fight go on after all of the shit he was talking. And there was nothing anyone could say or do to make it better. 
Dana promised that the fight would be rescheduled. He even threw in that if you won, you would be next in line for a title shot. 
But it didn’t help. 
The fight was set to be at the O2 arena, meaning your girlfriend and all of her teammates had been set to see you, and now they couldn’t. You couldn’t get your 10 training weeks back and you would have to do the weight cut all over again. 
It was a shit sandwich, and it made you feel completely out of control. It made you crave for someone else to put you right again. For Alessia to remind you that she had control always. 
Maybe that’s why you chose your satin button-down shirt to go to dinner with your girlfriend and her teammates and paired it with tight black skinny jeans. 
It wasn’t often that you liked to push Alessia’s control. That you toed the boundaries that she set, but tonight it felt like the prize comparable to stepping into the cage. 
With the little black dress she had worn, you really couldn’t blame yourself either. You could never resist when she showed off her legs. You were obsessed and she knew it. It was probably why she had chosen the outfit, to begin with. 
It was probably designed as a reward of sorts for after your fight, except you weren’t having a fight. So you supposed it was kind of like a consolation prize. 
Except you felt wound too tightly to really enjoy it.
“So that’s it, they just call the whole thing off?” Ella asked leaning forward to rest her chin in her hand.
“Yep,” You popped the p, your finger running a gentle circle on Alessia’s exposed knee. “I can’t even sign a paper that says I’m fine fighting him despite the failed drug test, and it’s too late to find a replacement even if we allow a catchweight,” 
She let the movement continue, the hand wrapped around your shoulder gently squeezing the arm furthest away from her. 
While she was relieved that the rules prevented you from fighting a man on steroids, she knew how gutted you were about the cancellation.
“Probably for the best mate,” Leah said, sipping her wine. 
You shrugged, letting your finger trail a little higher on Alessia’s leg. 
It was slightly too… forward for the steakhouse her teammates had chosen, but with the dimmed lights you figured no one could see your hand under the white tablecloth anyway. Not with how close you were sitting to your girlfriend. 
“I already made weight, so it’s kind of a waste,” You muttered, dragging your nails up the inside of her thigh to just below the hem of her dress. “I’ll have to start camp all over again unless I take something short notice,” 
“Can you do that?” Mary asked, from your other side.
You shrugged again. “I told Dana I was game if he needed someone to fill in, so we’ll have to see,” 
Alessia’s eyebrows pulled tighter together “You didn’t tell me that, love,” 
“Didn’t I?” You asked, feigning dumb, as your fingers finally made it past the hem of her dress. “Must have forgotten. I’m excited to see you all play on Tuesday though,” 
You ran your nail across the sensitive skin on the inside of her thigh, dangerously close to her center. But before you could make it any further, her free hand caught your wrist, and repositioned you so your hand was resting very innocently near her knee again. 
“Ireland is always fun to face,” Ella smiled at you. “Should be a bit chippy,” 
“I’ll definitely be rocking my MacCabe jersey,” You matched her expression, your thumb again beginning to rub circles into Alessia’s skin. 
Leah frowned, dropping her menu. “You will?” 
“Absolutely,” You smirked, wiggling your eyebrows and slyly trailing your thumb back up Alessia’s thigh. “Gotta support my favorite foul-mouthed Gooner,” 
Leah’s eyes went wide, and Alessia squeezed your shoulder. 
“And what about me?” Your girlfriend asked, a pout pulling at her lips. 
You wiggled your eyebrows, a witty remark at the tip of your tongue, knowing it would piss her off, but the tension in your chest made you unable to stop yourself. 
You wanted to push her. To force a reaction, even when you knew all you had to do was ask for what you wanted. 
“Are you ladies ready to order?” A waiter asked, appearing behind Leah before you could let it fly. 
You let your smirk widen, closing your menu with a thud and making eye contact with the waiter. 
“Since she’s not on the menu,” You started, leaning closer to your girlfriend for just a second, edging your hand even further up her thigh until it was again past the hem of her dress. “I think I’ll have the tomahawk, medium rare with a Yorkie and the roasted carrots please,” 
You winked at the waiter for good measure as the table giggled and Alessia’s cheeks turned bright red. 
The waiter cleared his throat, turning his attention to your girlfriend. “And for you ma’am?” 
Alessia opened her mouth, probably to order, but you cut her off instead. 
“She’ll take the sirloin, medium with the Orzo and kale salad,” You said, reciting her normal order with perfect precision. “And she’ll be having me for dessert later,” 
More giggles erupted from your friends, and you dragged your hand impossibly higher, extending your pinky so it brushed against her underwear. 
She inhaled sharply next to you, sending you a warning side eye as the rest of the table continued to order, but she didn’t immediately remove your hand. 
You ignored her warning, letting your pinky slide over the satiny fabric of her underwear. 
It wasn’t what she normally wore, and you couldn’t help the wolfish grin that took over your features. 
She had worn lingerie for you. 
Maybe that should have stopped you. Made you consider that you wouldn’t get anything if you kept pushing, but again you couldn’t seem to help yourself. 
“Will you be in the Ireland friends and family section then?” Leah asked, wiggling her eyebrows at your girlfriend. “Cause I don’t think my family or Less’ will enjoy you wearing the opposing team’s jersey,” 
You made a noise like you were considering it as you finally slid your hand up and cupped your girlfriend’s heat. “I don’t think I’d feel at home though. Surely your family can deal with it right Less?”
Alessia nodded once, very stiffly. “My family loves you no matter what you’re wearing,”
You smiled impishly at her, adding just a little more pressure to her core. 
She shifted in her seat, leaning very close to your ear, as Ella started talking about some movie she and Joe had watched, taking the attention of the rest of Alessia’s teammates. 
“They’d even love you if you had to wear your collar at the game,” She chuckled darkly in your ear, her voice soft enough to get lost in the noise of the restaurant as her free hand yet again caught your wrist and pulled your hand back to a much more innocent position. “Now behave, or I promise you’ll regret it,”
You pulled away, your devilish smirk only getting broader. “No,”
Her eyebrows furrowed her expression something between anger and concern and warning, like she was trying to figure out why you were pushing the boundaries when you never did before. 
You wiggled yours in return, offering her nothing else before joining the conversation of her teammates. 
You weren’t ready to talk yet. 
You were too content digging yourself deeper and deeper. 
*****
You continue to push Alessia all throughout dinner, taking every opportunity to make her blush or to creep your hand further up her thigh. At one point you had even wiggled a finger beneath her underwear before she could stop you. 
And your behavior hadn’t stopped once you left the restaurant. 
You definitely placed your hand far too low on her waist as you and your friends walked back to the hotel the UFC had rented for you, and winked cheekily at the fans as you entered the building, spending far too long signing things and flirting just to annoy your girlfriend. 
You knew from the “come on darling,” and the way she wrapped her arm around you, her fingers closing gently around the back of your neck that you were in serious trouble as she led you into the hotel and to the elevator. 
“Good luck mate,” Leah nodded towards you as she stepped into her hotel room after Mary and Ella. “Think you’re gonna need it after that show,”
She tilted her head toward your girlfriend glaring a hole in Leah’s doorframe. 
“Good night Leah,” Your girlfriend bit out, pressing her thumb into the space at the very center of the back of your neck.
Leah rolled her eyes at the movement, well aware of the dynamic between you and your girlfriend. More aware than most of her teammates for both club and country because of how long you had known her. “Right you two, do have too much fun,” 
You stared at the door for a long moment after it closed, the tension in your chest bleeding down to your stomach.
You knew your time was up. That you would have to pay the piper so to speak, and it had guilt swirling along with the unpleasantness. 
You knew that all you had to do was utter a word and it would all be over. 
You knew that Alessia would stick to your limits, no matter how hard you pushed her, but you couldn’t help the… lingering anxiety that came from your past relationships. 
The ones that took advantage of your submissiveness, and the unhealthy way you had always chosen to deal with stress. The ones that ignored your pain for their own pleasure. 
 “Come on then,” Alessia said, very gently running the nail of her thumb down the length of the back of your neck, and squeezing your shoulder. 
You hummed, allowing her to lead you down the hallway to your own hotel room door, but she paused before she opened it. You looked up at her, realizing suddenly that you were trapped between her and the door. 
She stepped closer so your noses were nearly touching. She dragged her hand from your neck to your chin, using her thumb to tilt your head to where she wanted it. 
“I love you,” She said, her voice soft and sincere. “No matter what,”
She leaned in the last centimeter separating you, connecting your lips in a very sweet kiss. 
You leaned into it, opening your mouth when her tongue poked out, welcoming it and meeting it with your own so they spun in a slow dance. 
It was the reminder that you desperately needed. 
The promise that she would take care of you, even when you acted like a brat. 
She pulled away just enough to disconnect your lips, and your mouths separated with a low pop.
“Remind me of your colors,” Alessia said, her thumb running across your cheek. 
“Green for good, yellow for slow down, and red for stop,” You recited, your voice breathless. 
“Good girl,” She hummed. “Open the door, and take off your shirt and pants once we get inside,” 
You swallowed hard at the change of tone. 
“Yes Miss,” You said, already pulling the key card from the back pocket of your jeans. You didn’t look away from her as you fumbled until you heard the lock on the door beep, and clumsily pushed it open. 
You stumbled backward, unwilling to break eye contact with your girlfriend because you knew you would probably get very little of it tonight. 
She turned away from you as soon as the door slammed shut, busying herself with something you didn’t know. 
“I believe I told you to do something,” She said, not even sparing a look over her shoulder at you, and you realized you had been staring for too long. 
You cleared your throat, your fingers trembling as they unbuttoned your straining shirt. 
You carefully pulled the satin materials from your shoulders, folding it neatly and laying it on the bed before you started on your pants. 
It took you three tries to undo the button, the zipper getting caught in the stretchy material of your boxers. You peeled your tight jeans down your legs, folding them and placing them next to your shirt. 
You felt Alessia’s presence behind you as you pulled off your shoes and socks. 
As soon as they had been placed in their rightful place, her hand found its way to your bare back. 
The touch was soothing and grounding and exactly what you needed to combat the slightly floaty feeling in your brain. 
The hand slid up your back, all the way to your neck. 
“Kneel,”
The soft squeeze on the back of your neck was like magic, as was the soft, but stern order. 
You sank to your knees without question, your butt resting on your heels, your hands facing palm up on your thighs, your back straight and your head bowed, as the tension in your chest slowly ebbed away.
“I think we need to have a chat,” She continued, the hand on your neck sliding up to run through the hair at the base of your skull. Her nails scratched soothingly at your scalp. “Because your behavior in the restaurant is not the behavior of the good girl I trained,”
You grunted, glaring at a spot in the carpet. 
You didn’t want to talk. 
You already had to talk to Dana, to your coaches, and to the media. You had nothing left to say. 
“Do you want to tell me what that was about at dinner?” She asked you, the fingers on your scalp wrapping through your curls. She gave it a sharp tug, forcing you to look up at her. “Because I’d really like to know what the fuck you were playing at,” 
Her blue eyes burned into you, concerned and… something else lingering below the surface. 
“I wasn’t playing at anything,” You grit out. 
She raised a perfect eyebrow at you, as she searched your face.
“Is this because your fight was canceled?”
You didn’t answer her, unwilling to admit how… off balanced it made you feel. 
But that was enough of an answer for her. 
Her eyes softened minutely. “Baby,” 
You shook your head. 
You didn’t want her sympathy or her pity. 
You wanted her to crush you. 
“Alright,” She signed, tilting your head back so far it was painful. “I’m going to give you 2 options. We can call Clarke and Lexa and they can run you through a workout,” 
You shivered at the mention of your respective striking and jujitsu coaches, knowing already that whatever the alternative was, you would be choosing it. 
“Or you can take a punishment of my choosing,” She finished. “It won’t be an easy one,” 
“I’ll take a punishment,” You muttered after a beat. 
You didn't need easy right now. 
She hummed, holding you close for a long second, and you relished in the attention. 
That had been why you acted out at all anyway. 
She dropped her hold on your hair suddenly, and you crashed back on your knees. 
“On the wall,” She said, completely cutting contact with you, and walking towards the little kitchen area of the suite. 
You let out a shaky breath, pushing yourself to your feet, and shuffled over to the wall next to the television across from the couch. 
You turned to face the couch, wincing when Alessia pulled a wine glass out of the cabinet and a jug of water from the counter and returned to you. 
She carefully filled the glass to the halfway mark, before her attention turned to you. 
You knew immediately what punishment she had chosen. 
The rules were simple, you would balance the glass in one of the designated calisthenic positions. If the water spilled, or the glass fell then you would move to the next position. The punishment would be over when you made it through all 15 positions to Alessia’s satisfaction, or if you safeworded. 
It sounded easy, or like it wouldn’t be effective, but that was entirely wrong. It was the punishment that you hated the most. 
Your stomach never failed to drop when Alessia approached you with the wine glass and water. Just the sight of her with it was enough to have your muscles quivering at the impending fatigue. 
“Ready darling?”
You made a low sound, leaning back against the wall, bending your knees, and getting into the first position. 
A wall sits with your knees pressed together to focus the pressure on your quads. 
She used a hand on your shoulder to push you further down the wall until your thighs sat parallel to the floor, and then very carefully balanced the stem of the wine glass between your knees so the base just barely brushed your hamstring. 
You frowned. She usually balanced it on top of your legs further up your thighs so all you had to do was stay level. But where it was now meant that you would have to stay level and squeeze with your adductors so it didn’t slip and spill the water. 
“Tell me your color,” She said, her thumb sweeping under your chin, drawing your eyes away from the glass to meet her blue. 
“Green,” you murmured, leaning into the gentle touch. 
“Good,” She hummed, cupping your cheek for another long second before she pulled away. “I’ll be right there, reading my book,” 
Your gaze trailed after her as she settled herself on the couch directly across from you, picking up the 7 Husbands of Evelyn Hugo. She easily found her page and began to read. 
You glanced back to the balancing glass between your knees. It was already shaking slightly, the liquid vibrating around the bowl of the glass with the effort of your muscles to keep it in place. 
It irritated you that you could already feel your quads and adductors quivering. It was pathetic that they were already fatigued after only 30 seconds. 
You grit your teeth, letting your hips slip down further so you could squeeze with your glutes to take a little bit of the pressure off of your adductors. The glass shifted minutely, and the water inside sloshed dangerously before it settled. 
Your eyes flickered back up to Alessia, wondering if she saw it too, but her eyes stayed planted in her book. 
That irritated you too. 
The only upside to your fight being canceled was that you got to spend more time with her. You wouldn’t have to split your attention between her and not getting your face caved in. 
Now you didn’t even have that. 
You thought of safewording and forcing an early end to your punishment. It would be a violation of the rules though.
But when she found out that you broke her trust (the most severe infraction you could ever commit) she might choose a more… harsh punishment. One of the ones that was listed in the soft limits the two of you had agreed upon. One that would separate you from reality, and leave you feeling floaty and thoroughly controlled. Thoroughly owned. 
A part of you wanted her to forcibly put you in your place. To disregard how bad it would feel tomorrow and the bad memories it would bring up for you, and just demolish you. To crush your will and grind you into dust. To beat you into oblivion. 
It was what your opponent would have done anyway. 
You knew Alessia would never agree to it while you were this upset. She didn’t like to give in to your self-destructive tendencies. 
The glass between your knees shook again, drawing your attention back to the warm fire setting deeply into your quads. They would ache tomorrow you were sure, but then again wasn’t that part of the point?
It would be a reminder that even when she wasn’t with you, you belonged to Alessia. It was an invisible mark that claimed you. That reminded you she would always take control when you felt dangerously unstable. 
And then it clicked.
This punishment was Alessia’s favorite because it was based on your choice to obey her. Your choice to push your body to its limits to please her. Your choice to give her control over you. 
She didn’t need to use a belt or a paddle to bend you to her will. 
She just had to ask. 
You just had to relax and trust that she would take care of you. 
You let out a long breath, counting down from 3 in your head. You let it fall back into the wall with a low thump and your shoulders sagged, as the remaining tension in your chest drained out of you. 
“Good girl,” Alessia said softly, and the page of her book turned. Your eyes darted back to her, hoping that they would be on you, but they weren’t. 
She looked so composed, both legs tucked under her, reading her book. It was diametrically opposed to how you felt, completely out of control. A quivering mess fighting to stay in a simple wall sit. 
It further reminded you of your place, and the weight of it was enough to have your eyes sliding closed. 
You focused on your breathing, 3 seconds and 3 seconds out. Deep and slow. 
You lasted for more breaths before the glass slid from between your legs, landing on the carpeted floor with a light thud. 
Your eyes snapped open, and again you expected to meet Alessia’s eyes, but they remained trained on her book. 
“Next please,” She said softly, flipping another page in her book. 
You slid down the wall to the floor, sucking in another long breath as you nodded, wishing that she would just look at you, but you knew that was part of the punishment too. 
You took another breath as you rolled over to your stomach and sat yourself up on your elbows, squeezing your core. It was a slightly modified plank designed to show off the muscles in your back and arms for the benefit of your girlfriend and to give your legs a break for a bit. 
She waited until you were in a position to stand, slowly padding over to you and grabbing the wine glass off of the floor.
She paused next to you, and you felt the way her eyes dragged across the muscles on your back. 
“Always so pretty for me,” She hummed and you heard the water as she refilled the glass. “Too bad you can’t have the reward I had planned,” 
Her touch lingered as she carefully balanced it between your shoulder blades, and stepped away. 
“Let’s see if you can beat your best time on this one,” She said, talking more at you than to you. “Your record is 22 minutes, which isn’t quite championship timing. I think you need to make it at least 25,” 
You groaned. 
Her competitive streak was legendary and often a part of your punishment when you had been particularly ornery. You switched positions at her pleasure, so you knew you would be planking all night if you couldn’t break 25 minutes. 
It was like when she decided you needed to break your edging record. 
There would be no mercy unless you safeworded. 
You focused on your breathing as she sauntered back to the couch, fighting to keep your core and back muscles locked to prevent the glass from tipping. 
Your abs clenched, and you so badly wanted to roll your shoulders to relieve the tension building in the space between them. The space holding the glass. 
You focused on the sound of Alessia’s breathing. Each rhythmic inhale and exhale like the clicking of a metronome, broken only by the occasional fluttering of a page. 
You wished she had put the timer in front of you so you could see how long you had left. 
But then again that would probably be worse. 
You always found it harder to go the distance in a fight when you could see the clock ticking down. It always made you feel more exhausted at the end of the round, and made standing up off of your stool at the start of the next round that much harder. 
You sucked in another breath, refocusing on the sounds of Alessia’s inhales and exhales. You counted each one, letting them wash over you and lul the fog slowly seeping through the crevices in your brain. 
It let you forget the trembling in your core muscles and the sting between your shoulders. They didn’t matter. All that mattered was each of Alessia’s breaths, and your ability to please her. 
To be honest, you forgot about the water balancing on your back. 
You shifted, lifting your head so you could watch Alessia, and that sent the glass tumbling to the floor with a low thud. 
She looked up at the noise, pushing herself to her feet and grabbing the glass. 
“Good job darling. You made time.” She rewarded you by meeting her eyes for a long second and flashing you a winning smile. “Position 3,” 
You took another deep breath as she filled the glass. 
You pushed yourself up into a pushup position, slowly lifting your right arm and left leg so they extended. 
Your arms shook immediately, and it was then that you recognized just how exhausted you were already. Your core ached in a way that was edging on unpleasant, and your back felt like you had run 5 rounds with your jujitsu coach. 
It was strange that you felt so drained and you had only made it through 2 positions. 
Alessia waited until you were stable before she balanced the glass in the very same area between your shoulder blades. 
The spot that felt so tight.
You knew you weren’t going to last long before she even stepped away. But you tried to breathe through it. You tried to ignore the little beads of sweat collecting at the small of your back, and the cramp setting in just below the glass, radiating up to your neck. 
You deserved the pain. You had done your damndest to make sure Alessia gave it to you. 
“Tell me your color,” Alessia said, her voice dripping dominance, sending a shiver down your spine and causing the glass to tumble off your back. 
You collapsed to the floor. 
You hadn’t even made it a minute. 
“‘M ok,” You murmured into the carpet, each breath rattling as it left your lips.
You hadn’t even lasted long enough for Alessia to make it back to her seat. 
It was pathetic.
“That’s not what I asked you,” She said, crouching next to you, her hand resting on the throbbing space between your shoulders. “Tell me what your color is,” 
Your brain ran into overdrive, taking stock of the burn in your thighs, and the way the muscles in your back were locked up tight, and before you could even think through all the reasons why you shouldn’t safe word, “red,” was falling from your lips. 
You had been red before you even started position 3, you realized. 
“Good girl,” She said, settling fully down beside you, her hand running soothingly up and down your sweat-soaked back. “You did so well for me, and I’m so proud of you for knowing your limits,”
You groaned into the carpet as warmth spread through your chest, chasing away the last of the tightness that had been there since Dana caught you after the weigh-ins. 
“‘M sorry for pushing you,” You mumbled, your words nearly getting lost in the floor. “Didn’t know how to…” 
You trailed off, losing your train of thought. You weren’t even sure what you didn’t know how to do, only that antagonizing your girlfriend. Your miss. Had been the only way that seemed to make sense to achieve it. 
“I know darling,” She hummed, gripping under your arms and shifting so your head was resting in her lap and your upper body was between her legs. “Take some deep breaths for me, and then we’ll get you cleaned up and we can cuddle,” 
You made a low sound of agreement. You felt content with her completely around you, her scent enveloping you, and her hands running gently through your tangled hair. 
She was the stability to your rocky seas, and you trusted that she would take care of you, just like she had already tonight. 
A cuddle sounded perfect because it was perfect. 
It was everything you needed. She was everything you needed. 
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cloudaxolotl07 · 2 months
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Here are the official looks for the Bishops in my Beyond au!
They all have the golden skull necklaces but they are just hidden under layers of fabric COUGH I DIDNT JUST FORGET THEM ON ACCIDENT-
Info on each character below!
Shamura
Shamura is the eldest of the 5 siblings and is the Historian and Teacher for the Cult. Shamura is a calm and kind spirit, though if you annoythem enough, they’ll start to disent a little, causing ichor to pour from their wounded head. They can get slight brain fog pretty often during the day but they somehow appear on time to events or remember things when the memory returns after a while. Although Shamura was the ex bishop of War, they are quite the tactical thinker and fighter; quick on their feet and always knows how to take their enemies down when necessary. They assist with educating the younger members of the cult and is quite intelligent in many subjects even if they have brain damage from long ago. They mainly on their free time or when not with any of the kids, they tend to hide in the library, reading in silence.
Kallamar
Kallamar is the second oldest out of the 5 siblings and is the Chief Medical officer in the Cult. Kallamar likes to act prideful and has a bit of an ego, though truly he is a coward at heart. He has sensitive hearing due to the damage inflicted from Narinder, so loud noises can cause pain to him. Being the ex bishop of pestilence, he has the vast knowledge in medicine and medical practice, with that knowledge were they given the job to look after the health of the followers in the Cult. He loves to collect anything he deems beautiful and is sparkling; always wearing some form of jewelry on him wherever he goes on the cult grounds.
Heket
Heket is the second youngest out of the 5 siblings and is the Cult’s Chief Guard. Heket is quiet and stoic, but caring when it comes to her siblings and the followers of the cult. People, especially children tend to get intimidated when first meeting her, but they easily warm up when eating her delicious food she prepares during breakfast, lunch and dinner. She isn’t able to speak all that well and speaking up never goes well for her as she easily gets ichor filling her mouth to the point of dirtying her lungs, causing coughing fits from time to time. Her siblings however can easily understand what she tries to say when reading her body language, facial expressions or listening for her quiet mumbling; except Leshy for most of the time.
Leshy
Leshy is the youngest of the 5 siblings and is the Chief Farmer for the Cult. Leshy is hot-tempered and chaotic in nature and easily can get embarrassed or offended by small things either when people make fun of him or question his looks and/or intellect. Leshy is completely blind when using his eyes, but he soon made a friend who helps him get around far distances in the Cult. Growing up mainly in the Darkwood, he knows plenty about taking care and nurturing plant life, always knowing what each plant in the cult farms needs to grow to their fullest potential. He relies on his siblings to also help him with either hiding or getting from one place to another when Collie can’t. A small thing he appreciates though is on warm and sunny days, he likes to bathe in the sun, feeling the warmth on his body. A small detail about Leshy is when he expresses heavy emotions or feelings, flowers of different kinds tend to sprout from his body depending on how he’s feeling at the time, mainly they blossom on his head.
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Genshin characters and you putting lotion on their scars
Hiiii. So I have many many scars and this morning while I was putting lotion on I thought, huh wouldn't it be nice to have someone do this for me? To give such a mundane act of care... so romantic! 
Anyways, not everyone has scars like me but all our favorite genshin boys and girls are fighters and that means they have to have some sort of scar! 
Feel free to request more characters for a part two to this! I'll be doing a part two regardless, but if you have a great idea for a character I'll definitely incorporate it! 
Characters: Diluc, Tartaglia, Kazuha, and Beidou. 
part. 2
Diluc 
We all know that Diluc is commonly head cannoned to have a fuck ton of scars. Bro probably doesn't do shit with them either. You'd probably catch him with the incessant itch. Dear god, that is horrible, for you non-scar havers, the itch is nonstop, and when you scratch it's painful like a rash except all burny and dry. Please help him moisturize his scars. He's gotta be in so much pain. 
You've caught him with his hand under his shirt again, the rapid scratching looking frantic as he itches. 
"Diluc," you murmur a hand catching his arm and stilling his movements. "Did you put on your lotion this morning?" 
You watch him sigh, his scratching hand reluctantly making its way to yours instead. 
"No love, I didn't have time." 
"You can't not have time for your health Diluc!" You chastise him gently, though your tone holds some frustration. You're already moving to the bedroom, dragging him along and pushing him onto the bed. 
"Stay." You say with a pointed finger and you move to the connected bathroom, fetching the lotion out of the cabinet. 
Diluc has already taken his shirt off by the time you get back to the bedroom, resigned to his fate. You smile at him in approval and his gaze softens just a bit. 
"You have to be doing this every day," you remind him and you can practically hear him rolling his eyes. 
"I know." He retorts but it lacks the sarcasm and retains the hint of affection he tries to suppress. 
"Are you sure? Cause you can't seem to do it properly anyways." You mumble and he huffs the slightest laugh. You can't help your heart melt every time he does it, even if it's small. You can't help your smile either, as you gather lotion on your fingertips and start to spread it onto his skin. 
Diluc seems to enjoy your ministrations because he lets out a hum in contentment, eyes falling closed as you massage the lotion into his skin. 
You let your hands glide along his chest, spreading across his scars as you admire and recall each one. 
"Thank you, my love." 
Tartaglia
I personally head cannon Ajax to have self-harm scars but I won't mention anything about it here. I think he probably has really erratic and odd scars. The abyss probably had all kinds of horrors with different ways of causing harm. But since Ajax is the type to purposely get himself into a fight he'll most certainly lose, I also think he's the type to purposely let himself get injured for the thrill of it. He would wear his scars as a sort of armor, he acts cocky about them but is actually quite shameful. 
You catch his eyes lingering in the mirror just before you bathe together. He can't help but feel conflicted over the scars he's accumulated. On one hand, he feels proud that he could have survived such horrible atrocities. Gone through hell and come out the other side with battle scars and his life. On the other hand, he now has to live with permanent markings on his body, an equally permanent reminder of the past that haunts him. 
“Ajax?” You murmur, a hand finding its way to his bicep, absent-mindedly tracing the scars that reside there. “Are you alright?” 
Your voice snaps him out of his trance-like state and he once again puts on his cheerful facade. 
“Just admiring my amazing body!” He quips and winks at you in the mirror but you frown at his masked emotions. 
“Don't bullshit me, Ajax.” He all but flinches at your harsh reply. “I know you better than that, love.” 
His mask falls and the man you know returns, a frown adorning his boyish features. You follow his gaze to your hand on his arm and suddenly you know. He must see the realization on your face because he speaks up before you can say anything. 
“You know me better than anyone.” He sighs and his hand comes up to cover yours. “I just don't like them is all.” He doesn't need to state it outright, he knows you know what he means. 
“If it means anything, I like them.” Your words are hushed and he can feel your hand leave his body as you shift away from him. 
“Why’s that?” He asks as you busy yourself looking through the cabinets. 
“Reminds me that you're not perfect. That you have weaknesses just like anyone else. That you're more human than you like to believe.” You say this nonchalantly like it's not the most genuine thing anyone's ever said about him. He watches you emerge from the cabinet with a bottle of lotion and a smile. You let the words sink in as you gather lotion in your hand. 
“I like them because they’re a part of you. They tell the story of how you became strong and how you weren't always that way.” You can't help but hum fondly as his eyes follow your movements. How your gentle hands caress him in a way not even his mother has since he was fourteen. Your hands glide up his shoulder blades, curve around to reach his front, and touch every part he hates. 
“I love them because I love you. All of you.” 
Kazuha
His bandaged hand is scarred from when he grabbed his friend's vision. That shit’s gotta hurt so bad, burn scars are a pain in the ass to take care of too. Especially since they’re so sensitive to sunlight. It makes sense why he would keep his hand bandaged even after his wound has healed. Though it's gotta be so itchy under there. Please be careful when handling his hand, scars like that are painful for years after they’ve healed. (I feel like he would be hesitant to show you it, so the scenario is your first time seeing/taking care of it.)
“Please, can I help you?” You’ve asked him this more times than you can count, always pleading gently to see his scar and getting the same rejection every time. So you don't expect it when his red eyes go dark and he just barely nods.  
“Okay.” He says quietly and you can only blink in shock before gathering yourself and leading him to the bathroom. 
He sits on the edge of the tub and patiently waits for you to find the salve he puts on his hand. Your heart beats faster than you like at the sight of his eyes so far gone. Maybe he's disassociating? You don't bother asking as you settle down in front of him. 
Your gentle hands take his bandaged one, and you look up at him to make sure it's still okay. He nods again and you continue wordlessly, deft fingers unraveling white gauze with ease. It doesn't take long for his skin to be exposed and you take in the sight of his scar. 
It takes a lot to not wince or grimace, the burn has left more scar than skin. The tissue is still red and angry, the texture severely affected in odd pattern-like ways. But you manage to smile sadly at the sight, how much willpower must it take to willingly catch a burning object and hold onto it? To ignore every instinct and cling to something so painful. To say Kazuha is resolute and tenacious would be a massive understatement. 
“Tell me if it hurts.” You mumble, wholly engrossed in caring for him. Your hands gather the salve in your fingers and start to gently spread it across his palm. His arm tenses up but he says nothing. 
The process is short, simply letting the salve sit on top of his skin, not daring to massage it in. He seems grateful for this. It's not long before you're wrapping new gauze around his palm threading it between his fingers. 
“Thank you,” he whispers when you're done, slipping down to the floor with you and hugging your waist. He buries his head in your chest and you hold him there. 
“Anytime, love.” 
Beidou
The scar under her eye patch, I know a lot of people think she doesn't have one but for the sake of this, imagine she does. I think she's probably less forthcoming about the eyepatch because of the scar. Do you guys remember in her hangout how she was talking about her childhood and how she chased a dog to get its food and had to fight it? I feel like the dog probably scratched her eye and left her partially blind and scarred. And that part of the hangout is one of the only times we see Beidou feeling solemn, it’s gotta be a tough memory for her. 
She tells you the story the first time she lets you see it. For once, her demeanor is less than confident, no longer renowned captain of the crux, uncrowned queen of the sea, only Beidou. 
It's very obviously an old scar, not very big or intense. When you see it you focus more on her actual eye, her iris is a faded pinkish-red color, the pupil distorted and uneven. 
“I can still see a little bit on that side but it's all messed up and blurry, so I wear the eye patch.” She explains and you frown at the thought. 
“Did it hurt?” You ask, voice quiet and tentative. 
“I… don't really remember, to be honest.” Her eyes seem far away at the thought. “I just remember being so hungry. It was the only thing I could think about.” 
Your eyes study her expression, one you've never seen on her before. Its sorrow, longing, and pure pain all wrapped up in one. You let your finger trail the length of the scar on her eyelid. The lotion spreads with the motion, smearing white against her pale skin. The eyepatch has left a tan line that would've been comical if not for the sad story behind it. 
“Thank you for telling me,” you whisper, “and for letting me see it.” 
“Of course.” She says. “I trust you.”
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royalsweetteaa · 10 months
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Title: Thinking about her
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes (x fem!reader)
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18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI
WARNING - The following story contains: explicit smut, anal sex/gay sex, creampie, brief oral sex, use of sex toy, share of sexual thoughts, mutual pining after fem!reader, bisexual!Steve and Bucky, slight degrading, switch!Bucky, dom!Steve, Steve and Bucky are in an already established relationship, dom/sub dynamic, talks about potential polyamory, fem!reader is not involved in the smut itself.
Summary: After having their sweet female secretary over for dinner, Steve and Bucky release their pent up sexual frustration on each other while having their minds on her.
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3rd person POV
Steve and Bucky have for as long as they can remember loved each other beyond their unbreakable friendship. While they had both denied each other’s attraction for one another in the early times when homosexuality was unacceptable in the land of the free, there had always been hints of their love along the way whenever they think back of it.
While Bucky had his flings with different girls and Steve was looking to settle with one, deep down they knew they had something for each other that just couldn’t compare.
And with them reunited in the 21st century, they had no reason to suppress that anymore. There was no shame that they liked, - no, loved each other.
With that, they officially got together, but kept it for themselves from the rest of the world for privacy reasons, thinking the only thing that really mattered was having each other for the rest of their lives. Those plans changed as soon as they met Y/N L/N, their assigned secretary for the next 2 years.
She was the sweetest woman either of them have ever met, - always attentive to their care beyond her job of making sure they were standing in line.
She had made it clear since day one that she was available if they needed someone to talk to related to personal problems, and that she would always go out of her way to make sure the two of them were okay, through mental and physical health. She was to be trusted, and they could tell she was all about honesty and loyalty.
As time went by, the trio became close friends outside of work, inviting her over for lunch at the office and dinner at their house where they really got to know her as Y/N L/N. As if her being attractive wasn’t enough, the couple fell in love with her soul and nature. Her being with them felt like a final missing piece to a puzzle. She naturally flowed with Steve and Bucky’s dynamic so well, - it felt as if they had known each other since forever.
Steve and Bucky had a piece of their hearts stolen by her so easily, - which was already a lot considered they had given a huge piece to each other already.
It wasn’t hard to tell amongst the super soldiers what new feelings arose, and the best part was there was no jealousy present because of it. They wanted her equally, - an insatiable yearning and lust blossomed each time they got to spend time with her. They both felt it. They craved her so much.
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It had been another dinner with Y/N at their place, except this time they really couldn’t keep it together as soon as she left. They were in need of a release after catching glimpses of her breasts peeking through her silky shirt and her pencil skirt defining her curves and ass. And the way she had groaned with each spoonful she put in her mouth of the delicious casserole Steve prepared.
They were so fucking horny, having to palm their crotches under the table once in a while to calm their raging boners down.
They gave each other knowing looks while she was there, Bucky especially who was giving the ‘is it the right time?’ look of question. Steve had to shake his head slightly, signaling him no. It wasn’t the right time. Bucky pouted at that, but turned to Y/N’s attention again when she spoke up about something related to the news.
They loved listening to whatever she had to say, it didn’t matter what it was about as long as it came from her cute lips. The men had a thing to pay attention to the way her lips moved when she ate the food, imagining how she’ll look like with her lips on theirs or around one of their lengths.
By the end of the visit, Y/N left the two men with a high sexual drive, and as Bucky closed the door behind her, they were all over each other.
It started in the hallway with a mutual handjob, both men stroking and rubbing their cocks against each other as they made out against the wall. By then they had unbuckled their belts and let their pants slide down as they ripped each other’s shirts off while trailing kisses on one another’s necks.
Then Steve went on his knees, allowing Bucky to use his mouth, creating a sloppy mess with drool hanging on Steve’s chin. Steve stroked himself as Bucky held his head with his metal arm, thrusting his hips in an attempt to empty his load, - and that he did moments later, down Steve’s throat.
As Bucky’s knees got weak from his quick and sensitive orgasm, Steve stood up and carried his man to their bedroom where the real fun began. In the drawer we’re all kinds of toys and gadgets they used most often, one of them being the usual lube and their newest asset - a pussy pocket.
Grunts left the men’s lips as they were already at each other after Steve had glazed Bucky’s ass with lube, burying his huge cock inside of him. Steve helped Bucky insert himself into the pussy pocket beneath him, and from there they went with a steady pace.
“That’s it, bury yourself inside that fake pussy and pretend it’s her.” Steve grunted as his grip around Bucky’s waist tightened for each slam he performed into him.
Bucky was already fucked out, his mouth hanging open as he felt his g-spot being hit continuously. His high to his orgasm is already close with how the fleshlight was hugging his own cock. “Fuck, Steve…feels too good. I can’t…ngh~…”
“You like having your ass fucked while getting some cunt on your cock, hm? My cock ain’t enough for you, huh?” Bucky clenched around Steve just then, making Steve groan out loud. “Ahh, you needy fucking slut. But I get it.”
Steve really did. Since their feelings for their secretary had first become apparent, they had to buy sex toys replicating the female body and genitalia to satisfy their longing thirst of not having her involved just yet. They had never cared for sex toys previously, but it almost hurt not doing without it anymore.
They needed her so bad, a pussy pocket just had to do for now to not make them go crazy. Sex hadn’t felt this good since they first started doing it with each other either, so why stop now?
“Fuck! Ah, Steve, M’gonna cum! Shit!” Bucky announced through a whimper.
“Go ahead, baby…cum inside that pussy, just like you want to…- breed that hole while I fill up yours…” Steve purrs into his partner’s ear as he keeps going.
“Aah, fuck yeah! Fill me up Stevie, fill me, fill me -!” Bucky was cut short when his face was shoved against the pillow, muffling him.
He rutted against the fleshlight a few times before he came, announcing it through a drawn “Mmhhm!” as Steve’s cock hit his prostate hard.
With a restrained groan leaving from Steve’s lips, he released his jizz inside the brunette, coming undone from the tightness of Bucky’s rim.
Steve slowly dragged his cock out of Bucky’s stretched hole, leaving cum to leak out of him.
He smiled with pride, giving Bucky’s ass a pat, “Did such a good job taking me, baby…you always do.” Steve cooed as he kissed Bucky’s shoulder, before he turned him around on his back and lied beside him.
Steve carefully removed the fleshlight around Bucky’s cock, revealing a heavy amount of cum to flow down his cock, almost like glaze on a cake.
Steve hums as he takes in the sight, “oh, you were generous with the load, Buck…imagine how pretty she’ll look like with your cum dripping out of her pussy. I know you’ll be giving the biggest load when you get a piece of that wet peach.”
Bucky whined at Steve’s lewd descriptions, pulling him closer for an after-sex snuggle. “Mmm, I want her so bad, Steve…I want to make her our doll.”
“I know you do…I want her badly too. But we need to be patient. We wouldn’t want to scare her away. Being of romantic interest by two super soldiers would make anyone overwhelmed.” Steve reasoned.
“I know but…what if she doesn’t accept us?..” Bucky asks, making Steve frown. “What if…she gets disgusted? That is my worst nightmare, - that she’ll stop talking to us after finding out we both love her, - two men who already love each other…”
“Are we even talking about the same Y/N?” Steve questioned, raising an eyebrow from Bucky’s self-doubts. “She was one of the first to know about our relationship and being supportive of it, remember? I highly doubt she would be grossed out by our love for her.”
Bucky still seemed to remain doubtful, so Steve continued, “Remember all those times she would watch us being intimate? She would always become a flustered mess when catching us making out in mine or yours office. She gets even more flustered when we playfully flirt with her. It’s adorable how she gets shy when we surround her with heartfelt compliments. I hear her heart beat madly when she realizes we are in the same proximity every time. Not to mention the way her pupils dilate when we makes eye contact, and the smell of arousal coming from between her legs. Oh, that sweet smell~…” Steve almost moaned. She will undoubtedly be ours, but there’s no need to rush the process, don’t you agree?”
Bucky nodded and sighed, “I guess, but fuck…does she have to make it so hard not to just take her right then and there? I swear she turns me feral with her doe eyes looking up at us. She’s so small and dainty, makes me want to combust and throw her around my shoulder, claim her as ours before anyone else gets to touch her.” Bucky spoke while tugging his own pecs, the descriptive reminders making him feel needy all over again.
Steve sighed too, “I know…she’s a real doll for sure. But for now we can make sure she knows she has us to keep eyes on. We wouldn’t want some other guy to take her before we sweep in and make her ours at the right moment.”
Bucky pouted playfully, “You call me the possessive one, but then you go and say things like that.”
Steve chuckled at that, giving Bucky’s shoulder a few strokes before he defends himself, “Like you always say, I can’t help myself.”
Bucky hums in response before thinking out loud, “Who of us is gonna get to fuck her first? She won’t be ready for two immediately…considering our size.” Bucky asked hypothetically, already looking forward to the possibilities.
“That should be up to her I think…- worst case we’ll flip a coin on it. But, I’m confident with the way I so easily make you into an empty headed slut with my cock, she’ll want a piece of it first.” Steve said with a knowing smirk, making Bucky huff as he hit his arm.
“Fuckin’ smartass.”
“You know you love it.”
Despite Bucky’s temptation on telling Steve wrong, he moved closer to him, his arms tangling Steve’s body in place as he nuzzled his face in the crook of his neck.
With an exhale Bucky mumbled, “Love you so fuckin’ much, Stevie…”
“Love you even more, Buck..” Steve mumbled his words of affection before his lips met Bucky’s for a heated kiss. Steve grinded his body lovingly against him, feeling something beneath grow solid, and he had to chuckle. “You’re undoubtedly getting hard again, pal. How about another round, - this time you fuck me while I get my cock soaked in that fleshlight you filled up, hm?”
Bucky with his boosted confidence flipped Steve onto his stomach eagerly, making him laugh from surprise. He stroked his cock a couple of times before aiming at Steve’s hole, whispering into his ear seductively, “Say no more..”
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N/A: This fic got removed by tumblr so I'm posting it again...hopefully it stays now for real. 🥲
Hearts & Reblogs are very appreciated! Thank you! <3
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mrsnancywheeler · 3 months
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invisible string // finnick odair x reader
based of this request:
congrats on 700 followers!! you deserve it sm!!💜 ahh i’m so indecisive, i wanted to send a 🪻 but i can’t choose between these songs: invisible string, delicate, or slut! so whichever inspires you the most! ik it’ll be great whichever you choose!
masterlist
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1.7k words
warnings: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, breakups, arguments, past relationships which includes allusions to cheating and a wrist gets grabbed, soulmates, a slowburn for them but not for us, meant to be, very little dialogue, allusions to trafficking, mental health struggles, unedited, no use of y/n
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
When Finnick was younger he'd take every free moment he had to swim, usually with his friends, but now part of him craved to be alone with the waters. It let him drop the facade and be melancholy even if it was one of the few things that really brought him joy. So, he'd stopped inviting them to his favorite secluded beach area, that way he could finally be alone with his thoughts. He would be able to turn the thoughts in his brain of all of his regrets and all the secrets he'd have to die with.
The only company he ever had besides the waves and creatures below was the family that always set out their boat to fish and it had been that way for years. A persistent presence in the water that felt like part of the environment and it didn't bother him. No one had ever spoken to him except when he and his friends were younger, the adults would urge them to be careful when they passed by. Now though it was part of the peacefulness to hear a family muttering around in the back. A family that just so happened to contain you.
Before he'd grown up and became more withdrawn he'd always accompany his mom, adorning her signature royal blue skirt, to the markets, where he learned the only place she'd buy her lobsters from was your family. As a kid it gave him some sort of pride to know where the source came from, this little special area, and now he was just grateful that the routines stayed the same whenever he was able to just be at home. He'd arrive at the beach and your boat would be bobbing up and down in the distance, Finnick would fill his time swimming and lost in thought, then eventually your family would dock the boat, he'd get closer to the shore and you guys would leave with your catch, you'd always send him a smile that he'd send an acknowledging nod back to. The normalcy felt good to him which is why it put him off when everyone filed off the boat and you weren't there.
It shouldn't have unsettled him as much as it did, but this was the one part of his life that he felt like he had some expectations for, there was control. You could just not have felt well or had something come up, but it made his stomach knot regardless. So he tried to go about the rest of his evening, searching for something to make his brain feel like there was still control. His feet brought him to the bakery, maybe those familiar sea green stained, salty loaves of bread would make him nostalgic enough to take away the feeling. There was also the cup of hot, mint tea that it seemed like only they could make the way they did, just right.The bell rang and he went inside, overtaken by the comforting smell and warmth. When he'd gotten the loaves and turned back onto the dimly lit cobblestone streets his brain only felt normal again when he'd caught a glimpse of you.
There you were, stranding with your back to the wall of the shop as you argued with some guy in front of you. Wearing that same sea green the bread was. And it felt ridiculous to Finnick, but seeing you was part of his nightly routine and it made him feel calmer even if it hadn't been the same way. This time he smiled at you and you noticed him for a second, sending a nod back before you were drawn back into whatever the man was saying.
Besides that blip, for months life went on as normal. He'd go to swim, the boat would be on the water, the boat would dock, he'd swim to shore, you'd smile a goodbye, and life would go on. A few months in there was an addition to the family on the boat, a new guy, and a new face in his routine was just as difficult for him to adjust to. Not as much as the day your family passed by and you stayed at the dock with the man. He could hear you both arguing, the setting sun illuminating you in your royal blue, your hands moving around to illustrate whatever point you were making. Finnick didn't want to eavesdrop, he wanted to tear his eyes away, but he couldn't. Then he could no longer sit still when the man grabbed your wrist with a yell and you tried to pull it away.
“Hey!" Finnick heard himself shout as his feet pounded against the sand, both of you turned your heads towards him.
“Whoa, man, nothing to worry about here!" The man let go of your wrist and put his hands in the air as some kind of defense.
“Definitely didn't look like there was nothing to worry about." Finnick knew he was intimidating, you don't win the Hunger Games and come out without some form of fear attached to your name. The man scoffed as he took a step back, “You can go now.”
The man said what must have been your name,"You don't want me to go, do you?”
You rolled your eyes, "Of course I want you to go!” You were exasperated and with a huff of frustration the man walked off. There was a beat of silence, "Thank you.” You acknowledged, sitting down on the dock, taking off your sandals, so you could dip your feet into the waters. Finnick hummed a response and stood there behind you for a while in silence before you patted the area next to you, "If you want to sit down you can, I don't usually bite." You didn't look at him, eyes staring out at the horizon.
His routine was already so skewed that there was no possibility of fixing it now, so he did sit and the dock creaked as he moved. “Are you okay?"
“Yeah, I'll be fine." You said quickly.
Finnick didn't believe you, but was in no position to call you out on that. So you sat there in comforting silence as the moon began to shine and occasionally he'd look over at you through the corner of his eyes to see how radiant you looked. At some point you were suddenly sliding off the dock into the water, fully clothed as you did so. “What're you doing?"
Your head dipped under the water before you brought it back up, “Washing it off!" It made him feel understood for a second, that's what he always was trying so desperately to do.
Maybe if he was a smarter man, after that night he would've spoken to you more, made an effort. Instead he thought about things he could say, but stuck to what was normal. The only chance was the added smile to his nod when you passed by. So for months he continued on, fantasizing about things he could say to talk to you, but wouldn't and eventually there was another boyfriend on the boat. It shouldn't have hurt him, but it unexplainably did. Hurt with himself for not saying something to you, trying to be your friend. He'd gotten used to it though until the night where you were once again nowhere to be found when your family walked off the dock. Another knot in the depths of his stomach, like something as being twisted and tugged at. So he did what he had nearly a year before, the bakery, searching for something to rid the sensation. When he'd entered it though he instantly found you. Sitting in the corner, eyes red, sipping a cup of tea. He couldn't stop his feet from moving towards the booth. In silence he sat across from you
“What'd he do?" Finnick asked as softly as he could. You sniffed, wiping away a stray tear.
“Sometimes I just wonder why nothing clicks and the puzzle pieces never fit even if I do everything I can. It's like there's no one out there for me." Your voice was so quiet as you took another sip of your tea, without a clue on any it felt so natural to open up to this man who you'd known without knowing your whole life.
It was how he felt too, everyone looked at him like he was some sort of monetary gain that could be achieved, instead of wanting to really see him. “What'd he do?" Finnick reaffirmed and you looked at him for a second before getting a look in your eye that told him everything he needed to know before you were shaking your head, trying not to cry again. He didn't know what came over him, but he rose to sit on the side of the booth you were in and had his arms wrapped around you, letting you sob into him.
That's when he felt it, the surge of energy, the bliss when you touched and maybe you did too because you stopped to stare at him for a moment. Maybe he was delusional or maybe something felt like it had clicked deep inside of his soul. He smelled the mint from your tea, looked at your royal blue top, and something felt right, more right than anything had felt since the day he was reaped. Eventually you just laid your head on his chest and felt the energy surge back and forth between the two of you. “I'll walk you home, I know the area, I grew up two streets away." He eventually muttered, not wanting to move at all. Suddenly you shifted again, this time to stare in confusion.
“I grew up, I mean I still live, two streets away.”
Maybe it was really then that Finnick knew, and you knew, that something had tied you two together since the beginning. That even when he was just the boy on the beach and you on the boat, without a word spoken, the universe meant for this. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that the string had pulled you from every man who would hurt you, and kept him living. It must have been worth it all to realize after all this time it had been you.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
thank you for reading, fluff isn't my strongest spot so I hope this makes up for all the pain I caused in the latest chapter of the river! as always if you enjoyed it likes, comments, reblogs, discussion is all very appreciated and my ask box plus requests are open. thank you again 💋
taglist: @wowzabowza69
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whetstonefires · 1 year
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Very fun thing actually about Jin Guangyao is he spent so much time and energy passing himself off as normal. The Normalest Guy, Look How Normal I Am. The Very Best And Most Skilled At Normal Things, Like Being Normal And Having Normal Opinions.
Which is great because on the one hand it reflects how he was kind of aware he absolutely was not. (And that by default this isolated him and this was Very Unsafe.) But on the other you see, with all the times he falls into the typical mind fallacy under stress and projects weird shit onto people, he also on some level believed everyone was doing this.
That being a Normal Person who had Normal Reactions to things, like being appalled by brutal violence, was an elaborate social lie everyone had to maintain to keep up the facade of civil society, and actually everyone was basically the same as him deep down. He was just better at it, and also the smartest.
Which is a very long way to say his character arc is heavily tied up with his evolving relationship with and skills at masking. I'm not gonna armchair diagnose him because that's beside the point, the point is that he is trying so fucking hard to be normal, but without a particularly well-developed definition of what's abnormal about him to begin with, resulting in some misfires.
And then you contrast him to some other characters and it gets more fun. One of his direct foils is Nie Mingjue, who literally does not know how to mask at all, not the slightest bit, but is fortunate enough to have been born the exact kind of weirdo his position in life demands, with special interests in 'saber training' and 'destroying evil.'
(He explicitly, per narration from wwx being inside his head, has no other interests and doesn't really understand the idea of having more than one activity you care about, do not tell me Nie Mingjue is walking around with a normal brain.)
So he is (jgy has a point about this, although he actually makes it about the luxury of having moral compunctions) free to totally embrace the conviction that everyone should basically be their authentic selves at all times, and just not do evil things about it.
On the other hand, and this really illuminates their relationship for me, Lan Xichen is absolutely trying to be normal. Like, he does try to excel, he wants to be best and he knows he's good, but as a person he is also trying to be as normal as circumstances allow.
He understands 'being normal about things' as a goal not in jgy's terms as an elaborate social fiction but as aspirational shaping of the self; if everyone is normal about everything then there won't be needless conflict. Living as normally as possible will optimize your mental health and your respect for others, and it's just a good baseline from which to be good.
Which is fine as far as it goes, but means harmless eccentricity (including gay) is to be tolerated and swept under the rug rather than really supported, and prejudices him to instinctively side with Jin Guangyao and anyone else who is pushing for Let's Be Normal About This, even when the people being weird are in the right.
(This is also to a non-zero degree a trauma response behavior; what Lan Xichen experienced as the largest existential threat to him growing up was something along the lines of being perceived as a selfish disruptor of norms, like his father.)
And then contrast that to Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji, who are both very concerned at least initially with how things and people and they themselves are supposed to be, and feel some responsibility for ensuring this supposed-to is reflected in reality.
But neither of them makes any particular attempt to be normal about it.
And then ofc Wei Wuxian, another jgy narrative foil, never attempts to pass himself off as normal. He will sell 'I'm better than everyone ever' and 'I'm scum of the earth' in the same breath before he will try for normal.
Except that he genuinely seems to think his most virtuous traits, his throw-himself-between-victim-and-weapon impulses, are basically normal. If not everyone (who isn't a total shithead) does it, it's because not everyone has his insane confidence they can pull it off.
Which in a good mood he would say is fair, because he is in fact awesome and really good at winning. (In a worse state of mind he would definitely hate on all the selfish cowards.)
Nie Huaisang is probably the most genuinely normal human being in the main cast, probably even more normal than Jiang Yanli, and he's very happy to play that up and present himself as actually even more normal and average than he is, in order to keep expectations down.
Up until his whole life gets fucked and this little pretense turns into the most elaborate and successful mask in the entire book.
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Note
WIBTA for using my status as an agender person to get a surgery I want although I do not want it for gender-related issues ?
TW : talk of uterus, menstrual cycles and menstrual blood
I'll start by saying this is not the US so please don't make your judgement based on that. I'll describe how things are in my country.
So I (X24) want my uterus removed. The main reason is that I want to be sterilised to stop having so much anxiety about becoming pregnant, which would be a nightmare for me, and I never ever want this to happen again.
But I can't get any other form of sterilisation as then I would keep my uterus, so I would keep my period, and without hormonal treatment it's just not liveable. To give you an idea, my natural cycles are 21 days instead of 28, I get my period for 7 days instead of 5 and it can be hemorrhagic for up to 4 days of these 7. (I used to get post-op medication because of the hemorrhagia before I was under contraception.) And of course I get through excruciating pain every time, beside having iron deficiency among other things. I'm currently trying another hormonal contraception, it's still not going well. There is always something wrong. My first pill just stopped working, the next ones made me gain 20kg, I'm currently trying hormonal IUD and although I don't bleed as much, I bleed for so long and there is so much pain that no available painkillers can block. I'm so tired. I can't imagine going through that for another 15 to 25 years.
In my country, it is written in law that you are allowed to be sterilised using various methods, all of which keep the uterus. Nothing is said for hysterectomy as a sterilisation method. And although many refuse to sterilise you at all, if you find the right surgeon you can be no matter your age. The procedure is also fully reimbursed. Nothing is said in law about hysterectomy.
This means that the vast majority of surgeons won't remove your uterus. Except if you have a pathology related to it or if you're trans (coming back to that later).
So what I described above does look like a uterus with a pathology, right? It certainly looks like endometriosis at least. I went to a surgeon known for doing the other kinds of sterilisation and tried to convince him to just remove my uterus. He refused, not without an asserted pathology. To his credit, he looked for it. He had me take an MRI. Well, they found nothing.
Which means that, although I have a pretty dysfunctional uterus that I never want to use and just keeps causing me problems, he won't remove it. Because they can't find the cause. Even though I feel completely alienated from my body because of that damn organ that keeps trying to make me bear children and will have me bleed out and in pain when I won't allow it.
Then there is the other solution. I said above you could get surgery if you are trans. It's actually a bit more complicated that that. In order to get HRT and gender affirming surgery, you first need to get diagnosed with body dysphoria by a psychiatrist. And then you get a special status in our health system that allows you to get free access to all kinds of things in the medical field (like surgery and HRT) and beyond (like laser depilation).
As I said, I'm agender. They give this status to nonbinary people so my specific flavour of gender (or lack thereof) is not the issue. But I don't have body dysphoria, only social dysphoria. People misgendering me to my face will make me feel horrible but I don't see my body as gendered. My breasts and specifically my uterus are not something that I see as gendered, so they're not something that causes me distress in terms of gender-related issues. Which means as psychiatrist is never going to diagnose me with gender dysphoria as is, and I won't have access to hysterectomy through trans care.
Except if I fake it.
Now, I have no idea if it could even work. If I could even fool someone. But I've been considering trying because I really, really want to get rid of that damn uterus. And technically, I wouldn't be faking my gender identity. Just expanding on my dysphoria. Still, it feels wrong. I wouldn't transition in any other way except removing the uterus. This path doesn't feel like it's mine to take. I feel it would be disrespectful towards actual, dysphoric trans people.
So, what do you say Tumblr ? WIBTA if I tried it anyway ?
What are these acronyms?
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berryhobii · 11 months
Text
My Person(knj x reader)
Pairing: Kim Namjoon x black!female!reader
Word Count: 8K+
Warnings: fluff, established relationship but the first part is how you met, I’m not very good at dialogue but I tried to make them have funny conversations, (18+ but I don’t control what you consume.) Smut, unprotected sex(please stay safe and have conversations with every sexual partner you have!), vaginal sex, slight anal play(he sticks his thumb in readers-), squirting, rough sex, soft dom Namjoon, slight breath play, strength kink(bc look at Namjoon), spanking(he’s obsessed with reader’s ass), reader is dark skinned and curvy, reader also has piercings(ears, belly button) and dark stretch marks, mentions of micro aggressions and discrimination but not much. I didn’t have a specific Namjoon in mind for this except that he’s buff so imagine him as whatever you like!
A/N: Hi! This is my first time posting on tumblr. I don’t know how to work it very well but I’m getting there. If anyone has any tips, please tell me! This story is for all of my black army’s, more specifically my dark skinned ones. I love fan fiction but I hardly see myself in the stories. I don’t blush, my hair is tightly coiled, I wear braids, I have dark stretch marks and I know that’s true of so many army’s out there. No hate to any writers. I hope to be a voice for all of my melanated readers out there. Please enjoy my first attempt! Any criticism is accepted and feel free to pop in to talk! Thank you💜
Namjoon met you at a popular club in downtown Seoul. It was his birthday and his friends wanted to take him out to get “shit faced drunk”. Jimin’s words, not his. He wasn’t much of a drinker. Don’t get him wrong, he wasn’t a lightweight or anything, his college years had built his immunity. He just wasn’t very interested in risking his liver every weekend like most of his friends did. It still baffled him how Jimin was in perfect health. He’s seen that guy pound back shots without flinching and he could still stand up straight.
Instead, he enjoyed quiet nights in reading while sipping tea or cultivating his small garden. Call him a nerd or a homebody, he didn’t care. It’s what he enjoyed and that was perfect for him.
Still, he was young so of course he liked going out with his friends. He was turning 26 and not getting any younger. These were his prime years to go out and party like no tomorrow before his mother started pushing him to settle down and get married. Not that he didn’t want to but he wanted to find love naturally, not by some meet up that his mother would arrange. She’s already sent a few young women his way but none of them worked out. They were all nice women but they just didn’t click.
The music was bumping, speakers shaking the ground underneath his feet. The atmosphere didn’t feel like the shoddy bars they used to go to back in college. This one was more sophisticated. Honestly, Namjoon was expecting something more…..unhinged. Considering Jimin and Taehyung planned this, he was fully expecting strippers or maybe tigers in cages.
“Come on, I got us a section upstairs.” Jimin yelled over the music, guiding them through the bodies and past the multiple tables and other sections filled with other club goers. The club was packed with people dressed to the nines; Rolex watches, Gucci purses. And was that someone wearing a Givenchy necklace? He swore he heard Taehyung saying just how expensive that thing was.
“How did you get us a section? Isn’t this place super exclusive?” Jungkook asked as he checked out one of the bottle girls that sauntered past.
They reached the top of the black carpeted staircase—there were multiple sections up on the balcony, most already occupied by other groups. They all seemed to be having fun taking shots, dancing, and snapping videos on their phones.
The section Jimin reserved was behind a black curtain. Hoseok let out an impressed whistle at the decor. “This place is awesome. Nice work, Jimin. Who’d you have to bang to get us here?”
Jimin just winked and held a finger to his lips. “Don’t worry about that. This is about Namjoon. Let’s order some bottles!”
The night was in full swing. A few rounds of “necessary” shots served by scantily clad bottle girls, including the one Jungkook checked out earlier. He made sure to slip her some extra cash along with his phone number just in case.
“Make sure you girls give the birthday boy here some extra attention.” Taehyung said, clapping Namjoon on the shoulder. Those words immediately made Namjoon feel nervous. While it was his birthday, that didn’t mean he wanted all eyes on him, especially from a lot of attractive women.
One of the girls leaned over to pour him a drink, her mascara coated eyelashes fluttering at him and her red stained lips lifting in a flirty smile. He gulped down a block in his throat, suddenly feeling shy. This woman was very beautiful but he doubted she was actually interested in him. It was her job to act this way and he didn’t want to assume anything just because she batted her eyelashes at him.
He threw back a shot of tequila given to him by Hoseok, the liquid burning as it went down and his face turning but he felt himself loosen up a bit.
Hoseok must have noticed his facial expression because he let out a laugh. “Hey, remember last time you had tequila?”
Yoongi, who had been expectedly quiet during this trip, suddenly slammed his hand down on the table. “Don’t bring that up.” He glared, dark eyes staring right into Hoseok’s soul. Hoseok mimed zipping his lips and throwing away the key. He was not about to poke that sleeping bear.
Namjoon laughed at their interaction. They all knew about that and no one ever mentioned it. Being a law major, Yoongi knew a lot of things about the legal system. A lot of things…..which probably meant he knew how to effectively get away with a crime….
He’d never do that though….right?
“Hey! Are you drinking tequila?” Seokjin exclaimed, drunkenly stumbling over to them. He was such a lightweight. Hoseok was too but the difference was that where Hoseok got quiet while drunk, Seokjin got loud.
Loud and loose lipped.
“Remember in college when both of you compared your dicks” a hiccup broke up his words, “took photos, and then accidentally sent them to Ms. Choi? And then she sent a nude back?” He guffawed a laugh, throwing an arm over a fuming Yoongi’s shoulder. If bodies could generate explosive heat from anger, Seokjin would be on fire right now. And if he didn’t die from that, Yoongi’s ice cold glare would surely freeze him.
Yoongi stood up, brushing his hyung off, mumbling something about whiskey before exiting the section.
Namjoon and Hoseok looked at each other before bursting in laughter—a confused Seokjin whining for his buddy to return.
All that laughter must have pushed his bladder to its limit. “I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be back.”
He made his way down the stairs, almost bumping into a girl carrying a tray of drinks on the way. Whew, that tequila must be getting to him. Ah, who is he kidding? He would have fully crashed into that girl completely sober. Does alcohol straighten out his normal clumsiness? He could test that theory later.
For now, bathroom.
After relieving himself, quickly since he accidentally walked in on two men incredibly close to penetration, he tried making his way back to the stairs. He passed the dance floor, seeing all of the packed bodies dancing and having a good time. He wasn’t much of a dancer but it looked like fun. Maybe when he got back to his friends, he’d suggest it. He knew Jimin and Hoseok would be down, Jungkook too. Yoongi had probably disappeared to the bar but they all knew he’d be against it.
Seokjin would……
Wow…
All thoughts about his friend’s willingness to dance were cut off when he caught sight of you.
You were absolutely stunning, a stand out in this overcrowded place full of drunken rich kids. The shiny decorations and strobe lights seemed dim in comparison to your effervescent beauty.
The silky expanse of your golden sepia brown thighs made him clench his fists, fingers tingling to sink into the plush fat. You crossed one knee high boot clad leg over the other, your ass practically smothering the little bar chair under you. Your cheek rested on your palm, deep brown eyes staring listlessly into the fruity drink in front of you. You were scrolling through your phone, manicured finger slowly tapping on the screen. Now that he looked more closely, you seemed…..down.
Were you alone? Why did you seem so upset in a place like this?
You must have felt eyes on you because you turned your head, locking eyes with him. His breath got caught in his throat. Your front profile was even more ethereal than your side; your skin was dewy and glittery, sparkling under the lights. Full lips outlined in black with a clear gloss over them, smokey eyeshadow made your eyes look even more captivating, and your hair was long and in braids he’s only seen in old school hip hop videos he used to watch.
You tossed your braided hair over your shoulder, the tips ending just below your thighs, eyes focused solely on him.
Your staring contest was cut short when someone threw an arm over his shoulders. He startled, quickly whipping his head around. His pounding heart calmed at the sight of Jimin.
Jimin leaned closer to almost yell in his ear. “Why are you just standing here? Let’s go dance!”
Namjoon nodded, about to follow Jimin but he couldn’t help but look back towards where that mysterious person was just sitting. Only to find you gone. He felt a slight pang of disappointment. Where had you gone? Did you leave? His eyes searched the crowd but he didn’t find you. He didn’t have a lot of time to think about it before Hoseok and Jungkook joined them, dragging him to the dance floor, their laughter almost as loud as the music.
Dancing had pretty much made him forget about you. While you were very gorgeous, he doubted you’d ever cross paths again. It was just a small connection in a club, it wouldn’t go anywhere.
He made his way off the dance floor, sweat rolling down the back of his neck and throat dry. He ran his fingers through his sweaty hair, letting out a breath once he made it to the bar.
“Can I get a water please?” He asked the bartender who nodded and moved to take another order.
As he waited, his eyes scanned the other people at the bar—the counter was a large circle that took up a lot of surface area, tall shelves held most of the alcohol, a draft beer tap area just in front of him.
Something moved to the left of him so he innocently looked to the side. And the alluring eyes that stared back at him caught him by surprise.
It was you again.
He almost couldn’t believe you had appeared before him once again, closer and looking directly at him. Now that you were so close, he could appreciate just how absolutely striking you were. Your lashes were long and delicate, a helix piercing in your right ear, a chain hanging from it that connected to the second piercing in your earlobe. He also spotted the cutest little mole under your left eye.
He didn’t even realize he was staring until the bartender placed his water in front of him, the feeling of the cold glass pressing against his hand breaking him from his frozen state. He blinked his eyes frantically, averting his gaze to his glass of water.
How embarrassing. He must have looked like a creep staring at you and the last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable.
“Can I get a strawberry virgin margarita please?”
He was surprised at how light and airy your voice was. It didn’t quite match your dark clothes and leather boots but he guessed that was just one surprise about you. He wondered if you had any more.
“Water, huh? You a lightweight?”
He didn’t answer at first. Were you talking to him? You must be. He was the only one with a glass of water across this entire bar.
Chuckling, he shrugged his shoulder, not noticing how her eyes focused on his muscles. “My throat was dry. Alcohol actually dehydrates you.” He instantly regretted saying that. Bore you with random facts, that’ll keep you interested. Clearing his throat, he motioned to the drink the bartender had just placed in front of her. “How about you? Drinking something that looks like alcohol without any actual alcohol seems more like lightweight behavior.”
That made you laugh, the sound hitting his ears and itching his brain in the best of ways. The sight of your sparkling teeth and the way your eyes crinkled at the ends made his heart speed up. You were captivating, he almost couldn’t take his eyes off of you.
It was your turn to shrug, index finger twirling the straw. “I guess I just like to feel adventurous while still keeping my inhibitions. Alcohol affects the prefrontal cortex first, the part of the brain that controls impulse, judgement and reasoning.”
His mouth dropped open in shock. Did you just….?
You bashfully giggled, eyes focusing on the designs on your oval, manicured nails. “Sorry. That was kind of weird to say, huh?”
He shook his head so hard that his neck could have cracked. “No! Not at all. I didn’t even know that. That’s really interesting.”
Your shy smile made you all the more endearing. “Is it? My friends say I’m kind of a bore.”
He smiled back at you. “Mine do too but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with having a healthy dose of knowledge. Facts like that can save lives.”
“I’m y/n.”
“Namjoon. It’s a pleasure.”
Sitting and talking with you, Namjoon learned a lot about you. You were a 24 year old foreigner who moved here 2 years ago to attend Seoul University, a full ride scholarship under your belt. You taught yourself Korean through books and the nice lady at a grocery store from your hometown. You loved mangoes and hated ketchup, your favorite number was 4—and when you were 5, you accidentally walked followed the dolphin trainers at the aquarium and almost drowned. Now you were afraid of open bodies of water.
Namjoon also found you to be incredibly optimistic, charismatic, and sweet. He was absorbed in every word that passed your glossed lips, falling a little deeper with each shy giggle and tug of your ear that you did whenever you said something embarrassing. You were so adorable and Namjoon found himself wanting to hear more about you.
Currently, you two were laughing about a story Namjoon was telling you.
“No way!”
He nodded his head. “It’s true.“
You wiped a tear from your eye, laughter reducing itself to little giggles. “How do you fail a driver’s test 6 times? There should be a limit.”
“Yeah. The driving instructor knew me by name. My mom even invited him over for dinner when I finally passed. Apparently, he also had a bet going on with his friends on how many tries it would take me.”
Your laughter picked up again. “I’d make that bet too.”
“Hey, I’m not that bad.” He pouted. “I’ve never gotten pulled over or a ticket. I even keep both hands on the wheel.”
You leaned your cheek against your palm, much like how you did when he first laid eyes on you. This time, however, your eyes weren’t bored or sad—they were filled with mirth and light. He wanted to see you like that all the time.
“So what are you doing out tonight? Did you come with friends?”
He noticed how your eyes kind of dimmed, fingers lifting to tug at your ear again. A sense of panic immediately flooded his stomach. Oh no, had he offended you? And the conversation was going so well too.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset.”
Your eyes lifted to his, mouth slightly dropping open. “Oh! No, you didn’t offend me.” You waved your hands around. “It’s a honest question. I did come here with friends but I think they ditched me.”
He didn’t know these so called friends but right now, he wanted nothing more than to give them a piece of his mind for leaving you alone.
“What assholes. They don’t sound like very good friends.”
Your eyes casted to the watch on his wrist and then up to meet his eyes once again. “No. I guess they aren’t.”
“I’d never leave you alone like that. I’d at least have the courtesy to leave a text or something. It’s dangerous to go anywhere alone this late.” He didn’t even realize he was rambling or the frustration that was building in his chest.
A soft hand on his arm stopped him from his rant, his eyes meeting yours. The brown irises sparkled, a gentle smile on your face that made heat rise to the tips of his ears.
“Thank you, Namjoon. You sound like a really good friend. I’d love to have a friend like you looking out for me.”
The sincerity of your words made him feel all warm and dizzy. He didn’t even remember why he was upset anymore, not when you were looking at him that way. Not when you were touching him so softly and definitely not when you were so close.
A sheepish smile crossed his face, dimple indenting his cheek even deeper. His hand rubbed at the back of his neck, gaze going to a random spot on the bar. “Um….yeah. I just….friends should be like family. They should look out for you. I’d…..I’d look out for you like that.”
“Thanks. That means a lot.” Your hand moved from his arm, your warmth leaving at the same time and causing him to feel cold. “But enough about me, how about you? Why are you out to tonight?”
“It’s my birthday. My friends took me out. They thought I needed a night to let loose. I normally prefer to spend my time indoors or out in nature but they thought I needed to go out and party. It is my 26th after all, not getting any younger.”
You hummed. “Well, happy birthday. I hope you’re having a nice time.”
“I am.” He looked deeply into your eyes when he said that. Your eyes widened a little, fingers twitching to rise to your ear but you pushed it the feeling down. After a few seconds of staring, you coughed, reaching for your drink to sip down the remainder of it.
He offered you another smile. “May I buy you another?”
“It’s your birthday. Shouldn’t I be offering you a drink?” That little teasing smile and tone came back. You were too cute.
“You can offer next time.”
“So there will be a next time?”
“If you allow it.”
You bit your lip, trying to force down the smile that threatened at your lips. Damn, he got you.
~
Namjoon didn’t even realize how much time had passed until his friends came searching for him. Jungkook was balancing a sleeping Hoseok on his shoulder, Seokjin and Taehyung not too far behind and stumbling all over the place.
“We’ve been looking all over for you. Where’d you go? It’s almost 3AM.” Jimin said, the only one who looked normal but judging by that glassy look in his eye, he was wasted too.
“Ah sorry. I was just speaking to someone. Got caught up.”
You gave all of the conscious men a wave, flashing a smile as well. “Hi. Sorry I hogged your friend.”
Jimin and Jungkook’s eyes almost popped out of their heads at the sight of you. They looked at each other and then at you and then at Namjoon.
Namjoon coughed, noticing the looks on their faces. Jimin was the first to smile, shaking his head at you. “No, no. It’s cool. Hog him all you like.” He flashed a look at Namjoon that read “later” before smiling again. “Yoongi hyung’s waiting outside. Can you drive your car or do you feel drunk?”
Seokjin, Taehyung, and Hoseok definitely weren’t driving anywhere. And he’d feel bad if he let the others haul the family drunkies all the way home.
And then there’s you….
He turned to you, your eyes lifting to meet his and instantly smiling.
“Do you need a ride home? Or an Uber? I’d be happy to take you or request one.”
His offer gave you a weird feeling behind your rib cage. Shaking your head, you stood to your feet. “I drove here. I’m not drunk either. I’m pretty sure I can get back.”
“Are you sure? At least let me walk you to your car. The bar’s are emptying out and I want you to be safe.”
“I’m sure. Your friends look like they need you more than I do.” You looked behind him, seeing how the broad shouldered one was trying to lay a kiss on the pierced one who was balancing a sleeping one.
Namjoon waved his hand. “They’re big boys. I’m pretty sure no one would kidnap them. They’d bring Seokjin hyung back for sure. He’d talk their ears off.”
An indignant, “hey!” came from behind Namjoon.
You let out a giggle. “I think I got it. I’m a big girl. I cross the street all the time by myself.”
Namjoon ran a hand through his hair. He was sad you had to go. He really wanted to talk to you more.
“Do you think…..I could have your number? I’d love to see you again.”
You fluttered your eyelashes at him, leaning forward a bit to crowd his space. Like this, he could smell your perfume—fruity and feminine and oh so you.
“I’d like that. Maybe you can show me what helped you succeed on try number 7.”
He playfully rolled his eyes, cheeks hurting from how hard he was smiling. Fuck, you were amazing.
You exchanged numbers, you putting his contact as Namjoon 10 And 2💜. Him putting you down as y/n🐬.
You followed him and the others outside into the breezy Seoul air. Summer was just getting ready to leave but thankfully, it was still pretty nice outside.
“I’ll see you around, Namjoon.” The way you said his name made him want to hear it more and more from your lips.
He gave you a little wave. “Bye. Get home safe.”
“You too.” Tossing your braids over your shoulder, you gave him one final look before bidding his friends goodbye and starting your walk down the street. He watched you until you disappeared from his sight, letting out a dreamy sigh when he could no longer see you.
“Well, look at you, Casanova. Didn’t know you had it in you.” Jimin teased, clapping a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder.
“Yeah. She was…..amazing.“
Taehyung stumbled over, almost falling if not for Namjoon catching him. “Awwwww, our Joonie hyung’s in loveeeeeee…”
Rolling his eyes, he helped Taehyung stand a little straighter, bearing his weight. “Come on. You can crash at my place.”
And as Namjoon laid in bed that night, he thought about just how memorable this night had been. He’d spent time with his friends, celebrated his birthday, and met the most wonderful woman ever.
His phone pinged from his bedside. Leaning over, he grabbed it and unlocked it, a smile rising to his face at the name.
y/n🐬: made it home and in bed. I tried driving with both of my hands on the wheel. I felt lame
He rolled over, arm tucking under his pillow, phone illuminating the doofy smile on his face.
It wasn’t love. Not yet.
Not yet.
~
“What are you thinking about, baby?”
He looked up from his phone, attention going to your body as you climbed on top of him. You both had finished dinner and having a shower and were now getting ready for bed. He was scrolling through his social media, timeline bringing up memories from 2 years ago. It was a photo Jungkook posted, a candid shot of them—Yoongi and Namjoon were raising their glasses to the camera, Taehyung and Jimin cheering while clinking shots together, Hoseok was staring blankly at nothing and Jungkook was cheesing hard. He doesn’t even remember this picture being taken but he can remember how he felt that night. He felt so free and happy, being with this best friends and partying like there was no tomorrow. It was great.
He connected eyes with you. God, you were just as gorgeous as the first day he met you, maybe even more. Dressed down and barefaced, he thought you were the picture of beauty and allure. Everything you did enchanted him—even something as simple as when you’d put your chopsticks in your hand one by one or the way you’d shake your arms because they’d get tired when you braided your hair.
You were perfect to him. Everything he could ever want and need. You completed him. You gave him what he lacked, supported him wholeheartedly and genuinely, and loved him in a way that he’s never felt before.
You were his person.
He showed you his phone. You observed the picture for a moment. “Isn’t that from your birthday 2 years ago? But your birthday was last week, why is it just now appearing in your memories?”
He placed his phone on the bedside table, hands going to your bare thighs since you hated wearing pants to bed. Weird since you wore socks to bed, only to take them off in your sleep but adorable nonetheless.
“Jungkook posted it a week later. It was that week after he dropped his phone in that pond.” His fingertips lightly grazed over the dark stretch marks that stretched over your thighs and love handles. He loved every inch of you. You were so confident and sure of yourself, never letting anyone’s comments diminish your glow.
You let out an “ah” of recognition. “Oh yeah. He would carry his iPad everywhere.”
Namjoon chuckled. His friend was so silly.
“That was the night we met. Has it been two years already?”
He hummed and exhaled a deep breath. “Yeah. It went by so fast.”
You leaned down to press your foreheads together, one hand coming to rest on his collarbone. Your thumb gently stroked the skin there, playing with the silver chain that sat around his throat. You remembered when he had broken the clasp on one he had before and he was actually really upset about it. He said it was a gift from an old friend that had passed away a while back. While he tried to act like it was fine, you could see just how broken up about it he was so you wanted to do something to make him happy again.
So while he was away, you took the necklace to a jewelry repair store and got the clasp replaced. You surprised him with it the next day and the look of absolute elation on his face was enough to move you. That was the first time you had seen him cry. He hugged you so tightly, his warmth seeping into your bones and tears soaking your shirt. And you held him until he had fallen asleep, the repaired necklace clasped around his neck.
It was also the first time he said he loved you, the three little words sending you to cloud 9. You loved Namjoon too. He was really the first actual friend you made since coming to Seoul. Being a foreigner, people treated you differently. If not by their micro aggressions or blatant rudeness, it was how they ignored you and treated you like you didn’t exist.
The “friends” you went to the bar with that time were classmates of yours. They were nice at the start, always asking questions about your hair and about America. You were just happy to have friends so you didn’t mind. You felt like there was a bit of a gap between you and them. Your Korean wasn’t that good when you arrived so that language barrier often made things a little awkward.
And when they invited you out to a high class bar in the nicer part of Seoul, you were happy to tag along. You didn’t leave your apartment much aside from school and work. Mainly because you were still a little uncomfortable being in a new country despite living here for close to 2 years. It kind of felt like you were just drifting around and biding your time until graduation.
But you didn’t want to do that. You were in a new country! You could make new experiences and learn new things. You should be getting out and having fun.
So you dressed in one of your most adventurous outfits and you met your friends at the bar. At first, everything was going fine. They were taking shots and pictures and you were trying to loosen up. Eventually, your friends went to dance while you went to go to the bathroom. They were gone when you returned and you couldn’t find them in the sea of people.
That’s why you were sitting alone. You were waiting for them to come back but after about an hour and a half with no update, you were getting ready to leave.
That was until you saw Namjoon. Just from across the room, you felt a connection between you both. When you saw his friends come up to him, you sighed and got up to go to the bathroom. At least his friends looked like they wanted to be around him.
A few Korean men had approached you throughout the night while you sat alone and while you tried to be nice, they were much too imposing and forceful. That’s what led you to the bar. You wanted some space and maybe one more mock tail before going home.
Seeing Namjoon again was a complete coincidence. You didn’t even notice he was at the bar until you stood next to him, your eyes instinctively looking over.
And wow….
He was so much more handsome up close—tall, broad, and those biceps looked like he could throw you around a room without breaking a sweat.
Whew…you were repressed.
Those thoughts ceased from your mind the moment you two started talking. Namjoon was wholesome and intelligent, a little bit goofy and very very lovely. Unlike most of the men you’ve encountered so far, Namjoon wasn’t pushy or sleazy—he was a gentleman, he listened to every word you said, and he kept you engaged. It almost felt a little too good to be true.
But it wasn’t. You deserved it. And so did he.
“That’s okay. At least we know we cherished every single day.”
“And I’ll cherish each one after that.”
He reciprocated your wide smile, love and adoration flooding both of your gazes.
“I love you, Namjoon.”
“And I love you.”
Your lips met in a sensual kiss. You melted further into his hold, your chests pressing against one another. His thumbs rubbed at where your panties sank into your plush hips, tilting his chin so that he could kiss you deeper.
It didn’t take long for you to start moving your hips cover his crotch, sweats being your only barrier.
He pulled away from you, both of you panting, gazes locked and stirring with desire.
“You aren’t tired from my birthday weekend? We barely made our reservation.” Namjoon recalled.
You snorted, lifting back up. “If I remember correctly, it was you who couldn’t keep it in your pants right before we walked out of the door.”
“You looked absolutely ravishing in that dress. Did you see your ass?” Delivering a swift smack to one of your cheeks and then squeezing the burning skin. He was obsessed with your ass. It was perfect for your hips and thighs, perfectly round and it rippled in the most delicious of ways whenever he slapped it. Not to mention, it filled out whatever you wore; skirts, dresses, jeans….You in jeans should be considered a world wonder. For his eyes only though.
You didn’t try to fight down your grin. “Me? Did you see your arms in that dress shirt? I was ready to ride you the moment you buttoned it up.”
Biting his lip, his fingers went under the band of your panties. “Why don’t you ride me now? Give me a demonstration.”
Your eyes darkened at the feeling of his hardening cock pressing into your covered heat.
“I’ll give you more than that.”
Leaning forward again, you placed a sweet peck to his lips before trailing down to his throat. You sucked and nipped at the skin there, careful not to leave any marks too high that would show over his collar. Good thing the base of his neck and his collarbone were open and safe for marking.
He let out a sigh at the feeling, body shivering when you ran your lips over his soft spot. Lifting up to study your work and feeling satisfied at the darkening marks across his chest, you began kissing your way down his body. He’s been spending more time in the gym so the flat expanse of his tummy was starting to harden, light abs beginning to form. You loved feeling the hard muscle, your manicured fingertips ghosting over them. He sighed again, stomach seizing up a little at your touch.
Finally, you reached your destination. Eyes hungrily taking in the large bulge in his black briefs. Your hand raised to rub over it, feeling his cock jerk slightly from your touch. Reaching for the band of his underwear, you tugged them down, him lifting his hips to help you. Once the stupid fabric was tossed to the floor, you got to take in the thick and throbbing cock in front of you—a lush pink tip with veins running all over it and precum leaking from the tip. Delicious.
Licking your lips, you ran your tongue over the underside, all the way to the tip where you sucked him into your mouth. His legs tensed up, sighing at the feeling. Finally.
Your tongue flicked under the head of his cock, his most sensitive spot. His hand lifting to rest on your head, making sure to be gentle since he knew your scalp was still a little sore from your new hairstyle. He remembers coming home from work to find you in the bathroom laying down your baby hairs. When he left that morning, you were in your natural hair, the tight coils refreshed and bouncy. He loved any hairstyle you had and he thought it was amazing that you could transform it into so many ways. Throughout the summer, you had been wearing it more naturally and on his birthday weekend, you installed a beautiful honey blonde wig that he really liked.
Now, you were in shoulder blade length boho braids. You had sat in the bathroom for hours following a YouTube tutorial, arms constantly getting tired and a few of the braids turning out a little wonky but in the end, you thought they looked good. It was a good try. And when Namjoon came home, his eyes brightening and compliments flowing, you felt even more beautiful.
And much like right now, you had given him the blowjob of his life that day.
One hand grabbing his shaft, you pursed your lips to drool spit on his tip before sucking him back into your mouth. You did that a few more times to fully slick up his cock, hand pumping up and down his shaft.
“Fuck. Come on, baby. Stop teasing.”
Humming around his cock, you took him all the way down, relaxing your throat to swallow him all the way. His back arched, the warm heat of your mouth feeling absolutely amazing. Lots of practice made you a master at deepthroating his cock. Before, you could barely go down halfway without gagging but now, you could take him to the hilt without flinching.
You bobbed your head up and down his cock, both hands digging into his strong thighs as a balance. You hollowed your cheeks when you came up, cupping your tongue along the underside of his cock. You wanted him to feel absolutely every sensation and god damn, he did.
His eyes he didn’t realize were even closed finally opened, head lifting to look down at you. Breath hitching when he saw you were already staring up at him. If there was one thing you loved, it was eye contact. The way your brown irises stared directly into his made him feel fuzzy all over.
That feeling in the base of his tummy began to form and he knew he had to stop you. “Shit, stop baby. Stop.”
You pulled off his cock with a pop, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Trying to regain your breath, you crawled back up to straddle his stomach, leaning over him again to kiss him. His hands grabbed at your hips, rubbing the skin there before traveling up your sides under your shirt. He tugged at the fabric, you releasing his lips to take it off—your body now revealed to him and it was the picture of perfection.
From your deep brown nipples down to the pudge of your belly where a pink belly button piercing sat to the swell of your hips. You were dazzling, the picture of femininity, goddess like. So many words yet not enough to describe you fully.
You were just perfect.
His hands ran up to your nipples, tweaking the buds and squeezing your breasts. You sighed, eyes fluttering closed at the little sparks of pleasure you felt. That pleasure went right to the space between your thighs, dampening your already soaked panties even further.
“Get up here and sit on my face, baby.” Namjoon’s deep voice ordered and who were you to deny him?
Climbing off his lap and to the side of him, he lifted up to help you out of your panties. The grey fabric was now almost black with how soaked they were. He lifted the clothing to his noise, inhaling deeply.
“Fuck.” He tossed them to the ground, dragon like eyes staring deep into your soul. His gaze sent shivers down your spine. He was so fucking sexy—hair messy and thick lips bitten red. “Get the fuck up here.”
You barely had time to move before he was grabbing your thighs and hauling you up to his face. You moaned from the movement. Okay so maybe you had a bit of a strength kink. Who wouldn’t when your man was 6’1 with biceps bigger than melons and thighs thick enough to crush your head.
And Namjoon knew it.
Now with your glistening pussy right above him, he could show you another part of his body that you loved.
Tongue swiping through your slit, he hummed at the taste. You were dripping, a single strand of wetness dripping down to hit his chin.
You grabbed the headboard once you felt his tongue graze over your clit, a light moan coming from your lips.
His lips wrapped around the bud, sucking it with enough pressure to send you reeling. His fingers dug into the meat of your thighs, one hand on your ass to hold you closer. His tongue lapped over your clit, the little bud pulsing under his ministrations.
“Ahhh, Joon….” You moaned out. He hummed against your pussy, the vibrations striking right through you.
A swift slap to your ass made you squeal. “Ride my face, gorgeous.”
Always a good girl, you adjusted your knees before you started rocking on his tongue. The rough texture stimulated your clit in the best way, the feeling of Namjoon’s hands slapping at your ass fueling you on.
Your mouth was dropped open, head tossed back as hot pleasure sparkled all across your body. That band in your stomach beginning to wind itself tighter and tighter.
Hand coming down to wrap in his hair to pull him closer, you humped against his tongue, clit feeling so sensitive yet so fucking good. Namjoon knew you were close so he moved his head with your hips, hands gripping at your ass hard enough to leave bruises.
“Oh my god! I’m cumming! Fffffff-uhhhhh….”
Your orgasm crashed into your body, pleasurable waves radiating down your spine.
He flicked his tongue against your sensitive clit until you shivered in overstimulation, sitting yourself on his chest. Both of your chests heaved, gazes locked as you came down.
“Ready for more?” You asked, eyes squinting and a teasing smile on your face.
He smirked. “I believe a demonstration was in order?”
Working your way down, you straddled his hips once again, feeling his cock press against your sopping heat. Your lips locked in another kiss, this one a little more desperate.
Reaching under yourself, you grabbed his cock in your hand, stroking him a little.
A hand came down on your ass, the burn making you moan.
“Sit on my fucking cock. Right. Now.”
His voice sent shivers down your spine but you obliged. Lining his cock with your entrance, you slid down his shaft—thick girth stretching you open in the most delicious of ways, your walls constricting around him.
Namjoon’s hands gripped at your ass, feeling like he would float away. Your pussy was so warm and squeezed around him so tightly. He’s had sex in the past but no one would ever compare to you. The way your body reacted to him, how your pretty eyes crossed a little at the feeling of his cock filling you up. He was obsessed with you.
And he wanted to be with you for the rest of his life.
Once he was all the way inside, you let out a breath.
“You feel so good.” He sighed.
You kissed him again, loving the feeling of his lips on yours. “So do you. So big.”
Your hips began moving against him, gaining a comfortable rhythm. His cock rubbed against your walls—you could feel him pulsing inside of you, the head of his cock reaching deeper inside.
His head fell back against the pillows, eyes closing as he focused on the way your pussy felt around him.
“Feel good, baby?” You whispered in his ear, sucking the lobe into your mouth. You moved back and forth against him, your breasts pressed against his chest.
“Yeah.”
Adjusting yourself, you began bouncing up and down on his cock, the wet slap of your ass against his thighs filling the room.
He slapped your ass again, using his hands to help you move against him. “That’s it. Bounce on that cock, baby.”
You moaned. “Your cock feels s-so good.” Mouth dropping open in pleasure, you began to move faster on his cock. The head was rubbing right up against that soft spot inside of you. That band was starting to tighten again. Only Namjoon could push you to orgasm so quickly. Just as much as you knew his body, he knew yours. You two were perfectly in sync.
“Turn around, baby.”
You whined from having to stop but you did what he asked, secretly loving how he bossed you around. Keeping him inside, you turned around on his cock so he could get a view of your juicy ass.
You started your rhythm back up, ass jiggling as it met his hips. Your back arched, sweat dripping down your spine and making your melanated skin glisten. His eyes were mesmerized by it, cock throbbing at the sight. Namjoon could watch you bounce on his cock forever. If he could frame it, he would. But this was for his eyes only and he liked to keep it that way.
Your hands found stability on his knees, leaning forward to bounce even harder on him. Namjoon’s hands spread your cheeks to get a full view of your pussy. He groaned at the sight of your sweet cunt wrapped around him, your viscous wetness soaking his cock, a ring of cream starting to form at the base.
“Pussy’s so good, baby. So fucking tight.”
You clenched around him at the praise, basking in his attention.
“Mmmmm. M’gonna cum again….baby….” You breathed out, head falling forward as pleasure consumed you. His cock was scrambling your brain, your entire being consumed by him. He made you feel so good, so beautiful, so utterly loved and adored that you could burst.
“Me too. Do it. Cum all over my cock.”
Thumb swiping over your puckered hole, he barely stuck the tip of it in before you were cumming all over his cock.
The feeling of your walls gripping him like vice was enough to push him over too. He spilled into your warm heat, moving you back and forth against him to ride out both of your orgasms.
But it wasn’t enough.
Before you could even come down, you were being tossed onto your back, legs being thrown up until you were folded in half. You could barely react before his lips were wrapped around your clit. His head moved side to side, slurping up all of the juices you offered.
“Ohhhhh f-fff-uhhhh! Namjoon!” Your head kept lifting to watch him and falling back into the pillow. You wanted to watch but just the sight of him between your thighs was enough to propel you to another gut wrenching orgasm. Your hips jumped against his face, his hands holding your thighs to keep you still.
He pulled away from your cunt, juices all over his chin and cheeks. The sight made your pussy clench, more wetness leaking out of you.
Keeping your legs up, Namjoon brought his hard cock back to your opening, pushing inside with no hesitation. You screamed at the intrusion, walls sporadically clenching and unclenching around him. Your lungs burned, trying to suck in air but he was punching it all out of you.
The connections in your brain were going all haywire, all of your thoughts absorbed by him and the feeling of his cock bullying your walls.
Namjoon set a punishing pace, hips pistoling in and out of you until you could almost feel him in your throat. His eyes found where you were connected, your juices and his cum spilling out in a messy mixture. Everything was so wet. He was slipping in and out of you so easily and it felt so good.
Your eyes crossed, mouth open as screams and chants of his name left you. His right hand came up to wrap around your throat, squeezing slightly—not enough to cut off your already sparse air but just enough for you to feel it. Your hands scratched at his arms, the burn fueling him further.
Namjoon couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You were truly a sight to behold. He almost wanted to tattoo this image on his eyelids. Your pleasurable state was one of his favorite sights, right next to you smiling, your ass, and that confused look you got on your face that first time you saw a pink strawberry. Strawberries were red, right?
He could feel your walls suffocating his cock once again. You were close. Incoherent ramblings fell from your lips, chants of how good he felt and how close you were. His hand released your throat, both coming up to hold onto the headboard and hips slamming into you even harder.
“N-Namjoon!” Tears welled in your eyes, overwhelming pleasure and love filling your veins. You loved him so much. He was everything to you. He was your person.
Your orgasm hit you so hard that your vision went white, ears ringing and toes curling. This orgasm was stronger than your others and it felt slightly different but very familiar.
Your walls forced Namjoon’s cock out of you, a short burst of liquid leaving your pussy. He used his cock to slap at your clit, prolonging your pleasure.
“Good girl! Squirt all over my cock.” He praised, a slightly sadistic smile spread across his face. He loved you like this—when your pleasure absolutely consumed you to the point where your body reacted this way.
A few tugs to his own cock and he came as well, spurts of cum landing on your pussy and dripping down your ass.
He slowly let your legs down, massaging your thighs. Leaning over you, he pressed a few kisses to your temple and cheeks, whispering sweet words to you as you came down.
After a few moments, you let out a hum, lifting your weak arms to wrap around his neck and pull him into a kiss.
“Are you okay?” He asked after pulling away.
“More than okay. I haven’t squirted like that in a while.”
He rubbed his nose against yours. “Mhmm. I love when you do. It’s so hot.” His softening cock rubbed against your ultra sensitive clit, your body jumping and a whine falling from your lips.
“Stop.” You whined. “I feel like my pussy is going to fall off.”
“Well, we can’t have that. Why don’t we go shower and have some cake?”
Your smile was dazzling. “That sounds amazing.”
After you were done using the bathroom and cleaning up, you went to cut the cake, not trusting Namjoon with a knife.
“Don’t want you losing any fingers. I won’t be able to live if you lost those.” You winked, giggling when he gave you a playful slap to your ass.
While you did that, he sat on the couch and went back to his phone. It was still open to the photo of his friends. Liking it, he closed out his social media and went to the page he was looking at before he opened Instagram.
The bright colored logo stared him him in the face, that feeling of anxiousness rising in his chest once again.
“I sliced some strawberries too. All fully red, as they should be.”
At the sight of you, that pressure alleviated, adoration swelling at how adorable you were.
Why was he so nervous in the first place? He couldn’t remember and for now, it didn’t matter.
All that mattered was you.
“Pink strawberries are valid.”
“They’re confusing! It’s like, why are strawberries red but strawberry candy is always pink? Then do they use pink strawberries for candy? It’s ridiculous.”
Yeah. You.
~
Staring up at the building, Namjoon inhaled a deep breath, palms feeling sweaty. The drive here had been full of nerves. He swore his hands were on 11 and 3 this time.
Calm down. Deep breath. Everything would be fine.
A kind woman greeted him at the door.
“Welcome to Euphoria Jewelers. How can I help you?”
“I want to buy a ring.”
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xysidhequeen · 7 months
Text
Equilibrium
So the Dead on Main server caused me to spontaneously spawn an entire outline for an AU because I wanted a Dark Danny fic. So. Here's a snippet of what I'm working on.
It had started out subtly. The beginning of the end. 
The GIW had crept into Amity Park, buying up empty office buildings. Making themselves known. 'Researchers' they called themselves. 
They could always be seen whenever there was a ghost attack. Not running, not helping, not hindering. Just. Watching.
The first red flag that became obvious in hindsight was when they'd reached out to the Fentons. When Jack's long winded rants on ghosts didn't scare them away. When they started taking notes.
The second red flag was the government contract sent to the Fentons a week later. 
But still, the GIW didn't do anything. They bought up the empty buildings, filled them with strangers in white suits. Amity Park gradually learned to ignore them. They were harmless, some weird government branch that had an interest in ghosts. It wasn't interesting after months of idleness from them.
Amity Parkers lowered their guard, answered the seemingly innocuous questions posed to them. 'How long have ghosts been attacking?' 'Have you ever been injured by one?' 'Have you noticed anything strange?' They were simple questions, questions any Amity Park resident could easily answer. 
Eventually the GIW became another quirk of Amity. Something expected, normal even.
Then the 'clinics' started popping up. They were free to use, offering simple health care for any Amity Park resident. Common colds, ear infections, broken bones, vaccinations. You had to do a blood test to use them, but no one minded much when they were free. And injuries were so common with the ghost attacks. Ghosts never seemed to care about collateral, except Phantom. But he was the one ghost who protected them, so that was expected. 
Amity Park became welcoming to the GIW. Open to their questions, freely giving information. Even Phantom was willing to stop occasionally when a question was called out to him by one of the white suited men or women. 
Yet still, the government contract remained. The Fentons handing over blueprints of weapon after weapon, prototype designs shipped off. Research papers handed over by the box full.
The GIW presence increased slowly, over the months that became a year. Their clinics and offices multiplied. Empty buildings and shop fronts were bought as soon as they went on sale. Soon it wasn't uncommon to see a person in a white suit everywhere you went. 
No one ever noticed how they never employed Amity Park residents. How they never hired, how there was never a help wanted sign posted or an ad made to ask for workers. No one wanted to look that deep.
Willful ignorance was easier than admitting they'd been invaded.
So the Amity Parkers kept answering questions. Kept visiting the clinics with their doctors who often asked questions unrelated to the reason for visiting. 'Have you noticed yourself becoming stronger?' 'How much sleep do you need, on average?' 'Have your eyes ever glowed?' 'How long can you hold your breath?'. 
The clinics began offering more services, addressing more issues. All still for the small cost of a vial of blood. It became normal to visit a clinic rather than a doctor for anything. Flu? Clinic. Broken bone? Clinic. A nasty burn from an ecto-ray? Clinic. 
Some people started vanishing, but that wasn't unusual in a city. People ran away or died all the time. It wasn't many, really. Maybe a one or two a month. There was no pattern in the victims, so it was presumed they were unrelated. The cops were stumped. No one paid attention to the fact that every single one of the missing had visited a clinic days before they vanished. 
Then came the blackout. Or maybe it came sooner, it was so hard to tell when it started. When it became impossible for anyone in Amity Park to reach out to someone out of it. At first anyone who mentioned it was called crazy, conspiracy theorists. 
But soon it became more obvious. Friends or family out of the city could no longer find any Amity Park resident on social media. Couldn't even find a mention of the city existing anywhere on the internet. They blamed it on the ghosts at first. They did weird things to technology, it must be them. Right?
Then they stopped being able to call out. Cell phones would no longer make or receive calls from anyone who didn't have an Amity number. They started to get restless. 
Then came the roadblocks. Anyone trying to leave Amity found that all roads out were inexplicably blocked. Construction, they claimed. All the roads at once, yes. There had been earthquakes that destabilized the roads all around Amity. So they said. 
They had been trapped, and they never saw the jaws closing on them until it was too late. 
It didn't take long, once the revelation that they couldn't leave, couldn't call for help, spread. 
The military moved in, penning them inside their city. Checkpoints were placed at every road in or out of Amity. You could only leave if you were in the company of a soldier or a GIW operative. 
'Quarantined' they were told. Because of what they weren't told. Something highly contagious and dangerous was all they were given. Hospitals were taken over by men in white suits. Doctors and nurses were sent away, fired. New ones were shipped in, strangers. 
More people started going missing. They all knew who took them but they couldn't say it. Couldn't admit it. Didn't want to. 
Curfews were enforced. No one was allowed out after sundown, businesses had to shut down an hour before. No one was allowed out until dawn, schools were forced to start later. Anyone found breaking curfew was apprehended, sent to a holding facility. They weren't seen again. 
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Text
Bad King Richard got rich by exploiting workers at King’s Faire
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Next Tuesday (Oct 31) at 10hPT, the Internet Archive is livestreaming my presentation on my recent book, The Internet Con.
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King Richard's Faire is the largest renfaire in New England, and its owner, Dick Shapiro, extracts a reported $400k/day – a sum that is only possible thanks to systematic and likely illegal worker misclassification, which lets him pay performers sub-minimum wages and deny them benefits:
https://www.reddit.com/r/boston/comments/172267v/kings_faire_inc_aim%C3%A9e_bonnie_shapiro_nets_over/
Many of the performers at KRF are absolutely unpaid – these are the "villagers" – who mill about looking picturesque in exchange for free admission. They even have to buy their own turkey legs.
When the faire is rained out, all workers – "volunteers" and paid workers – are sent home without any compensation. Attendees are also sent home with rain-checks, many of which go unused (there's no refunds in the land of King Richard).
Staff work from 8am to 730pm and are paid a day-rate that works out to $6/hour. After heavy weather events, staff are ordered to show up early to do cleanup, but are not paid for their time. Staff don't get health benefits – instead, local community groups like the Elks put on fundraisers to cover the health-care costs of the performers.
Now, King Richard's worker mistreatment is not an outlier in the medieval reenactment industry. Think of how the knights at Medieval Times – who put on nightly, potentially lethal performances to generate profit for their employer – unionized in the face of exploitative labor relations. To add insult to injury, Medieval Times sued the union, arguing that its name – "Medieval Times Performers United" – was a trademark infringement:
https://www.huffpost.com/entry/medieval-times-sues-union-trademark_n_63485fa5e4b0b7f89f54546b
This trademark wheeze is the latest desperate tactic to be deployed by the ruling class in the face of a surging labor movement with broad public support. Starbucks – one of the world's most notorious unionbusters – is doing the same thing to its union, Starbucks Workers United:
https://seattle.eater.com/23923490/starbucks-workers-united-union-lawsuits-copyright-trademark-israel-hamas-palestine-social-media
These moves are wildly out of step with the current of public opinion, which has swung hard for union rights in a manner not seen in generations. The outpourings of public support for striking entertainment industry workers were handwaved away as exceptions driven by the public's love of actors and writers. But that doesn't explain the strong, ongoing support for the UAW in their strike against all of the Big Three automakers:
https://pro.morningconsult.com/instant-intel/uaw-strike-public-opinion-october-2023
Bosses have always tried to smash worker power by dividing workers – by race, gender, or "skill" – but workers are workers and solidarity is the source of worker power. That's why the whole labor movement backed Equity Stripper NoHo, the first strippers' union in a generation:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/14/prop-22-never-again/#norms-code-laws-markets
Creative workers are part of a class of workers who suffer from "vocational awe," the sense that because your job is satisfying and/or worthy, you don't deserve to get paid for it:
https://www.inthelibrarywiththeleadpipe.org/2018/vocational-awe/
(Think of joke about the father who finds his runaway son at the circus shoveling elephant shit: "Son, come home!" "What, and quit show-business?")
Creative workers have long been encouraged to see themselves as "independent businesspeople" – LLCs with MFAs – and this mind-zap is augmented with our bosses' repeated insistence that the unions are for big burly blue-collar workers, not ethereal dreamers and pencil-pushers. Our bosses tell this story because it discourages us from forming unions and demanding fair pay and good working conditions (obviously).
Think of J Edward Keyes, the cartoon villain who serves as editorial director of Bandcamp. When the workers Keyes managed formed the Bandcamp United union, Keyes called them "white-collar tech workers…appropriating the language of the legitimately oppressed," adding "Fuuuuuck Bandcamp United":
https://www.404media.co/bandcamp-editorial-director-fuuuuuck-bandcamp-united/
Keyes's contempt notwithstanding, it's clear why Bandcamp workers need a union – after the company was flipped twice in rapid succession, its new owners, Epic Games and Songtradr, fired all its unionized workers. Keyes responded to coverage of this mass firing by calling the Pitchfork reporters who wrote about it "absloute amateur journalists."
The attempt to divide-and-rule "knowledge workers" from "industrial workers" is a transparent bid to shatter solidarity and make it easier to abuse and exploit all workers. Thankfully, workers are wise to that gambit, and understand that when all kinds of workers struggle together, they win.
Take the UAW strikes: for many years, the UAW was an objectively bad union, ruled over by a dirty-tricking clique who sold out the membership. It's normal to blame workers for bad leaders, but the UAW old guard had rigged union elections, making sure that they would stay in charge. It's not workers that like corrupt unions – it's bosses.
Before the UAW could fight back against their bosses, they had to fight back their bosses' minions in the upper ranks of their own union. That's where the the Harvard Grad Students' Union comes in. After years of worsening exploitation and working conditions, the Harvard Grad Students organized under the UAW, then joined forces with reformers in the union to oust the corrupt leadership.
During the leadership struggle, Harvard Grad Students helped their comrades from the auto-sector master the union's baroque constitution, so when the old guard tried to prevent motions from reaching the floor, the grad students were able to cite chapter and verse back at them. In the end, grad students and auto-workers together won the victory that paved the way for the strikes:
https://theintercept.com/2023/04/07/deconstructed-union-dhl-teamsters-uaw/
A strong, unified labor movement is necessary if America is to save itself from inequality, racism, the climate emergency – the whole polycrisis. The idea that creative workers aren't workers is bullshit – and so is the lie that all workers are uncreative. The "Worker As Futurist" project recruits Amazon drivers and warehouse writers to write science fiction about a future without Amazon:
https://jacobin.com/2023/09/amazon-workers-sci-fi-writing-bezos-imagination-speculative-future
They call this a "belief that rank-and-file workers, whose bodies and minds are exploited by capital, might have access to some knowledge about capitalism that is beyond even the most brilliant theorist or analyst of capitalism."
All workers can and should tell their own story. Doing so isn't just a way to change the narrative – it's also a way to change policy. The new merger guidelines from the FTC and DOJ Antitrust Division explicitly incorporate labor-market effects into antitrust policy. As Brian Callaci and Sandeep Vaheesan write for The Sling, the testimony of workers and unions can help produce the evidentiary basis for blocking the mergers that lead to monopolies:
https://www.thesling.org/workers-are-an-untapped-resource-for-antitrust-enforcers/
The rising labor movement is a force for profound change in every part of our economy and politics. Workers can be our knights in shining armor.
https://www.thesling.org/workers-are-an-untapped-resource-for-antitrust-enforcers/
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/25/huzzah/#bad-king-richard
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wrathful-banette · 3 months
Text
sooo.... I've been getting into slay the princess. here are some headcanons for the voices if they were given free reign to exist in the outside world. also they all live in the same house since I'm a sucker for that trope. also the princesses be there
under the cut because it will be very long. endgame spoilers for stp btw.
Voice Of The Hero:
the one that everyone is at least mostly chill with.
all the other voices have a fair amount of experience with him, considering the routes.
overall a pretty kind and considerate guy ←this is literally just canon what am I going on about
Can very easily miss subtext and sarcasm also.
↑the contrarian exploits this for friendly reasons!
↑↑the cold exploits this for evil reasons
I imagine he would look basically like a smaller the long quiet.
him and the contrarian are thick as thieves, as well as him and the long quiet.
struggles with feelings of loneliness and disconnection from the world around him.
semi-frequent nightmares, ranging from mostly being unpleasant dreams to "waking up in the middle of night terrified." thankfully, the latter option is rather rare for him.
very fond of physical affection.
Voice Of The Contrarian:
he's a crow!
very good at using reverse psychology.
However, this comes at the cost of being very susceptible to reverse psychology himself.
forgets to preen with alarming frequency, with surprisingly little consequence.
extremely loyal to those he cares for, just in weird ways.
Shares the hero's trait of being rather susceptible to loneliness.
he really likes giving the other voices nicknames! it's a show of affection for him.
him and hero kind of have what you'd call a bromance going on.
Voice Of The Hunted:
a sandpiper.
He's grown a lot more comfortable with the others, even though he still retains his prey animal mindset in a lot of ways.
very frequently puttering around making sure "the flock" (the other voices) are doing okay.
↑ especially when it comes to food!! his ass WILL make sure you've eaten
one of the main driving forces reminding the broken to eat drink and preen himself.
very meticulous about preening himself, but somehow even more meticulous with the others (headcanon inspired by someone else idr who sadly)
Can go from just standing on the ground normally to flying like 20 feet in the air in just a couple seconds.
he can and has done this on pure instinct when he's been startled outdoors.
desperately wants to carry people around you should totally let him do that pleasepleasepleaseplease
Very nervous around the beast/den, but has been calming down a bit in that respect.
surprisingly protective over the other voices, the broken and paranoid especially.
Voice Of The Smitten:
flamingo <3
struggles with feelings of inadequacy, feeling like he has to give 110% to the acts of service with the damsel at all times, even when that just isn't feasible for him.
He has a... complex relationship with the stubborn.
He struggles to understand how the hell his relationship with the adversary even functions, but is able to respect it for the most part.
↑This respect was only fostered when they almost got into a physical fight because the smitten questioned if he really loved the adversary.
Smitten's really bad at asking for help, sees it as unbecoming for himself.
For this same reason, he's also terrible at expressing his more genuinely bad feelings.
overpreens when stressed, leading to bald spots which he always gets extremely self-conscious and embarrassed about. nobody knows he gets these except himself.
resents the voice of the cold for the burned grey route, but refuses to give him the time of day about it.
Voice of the Broken:
He's been doing better. the others have been helping the best they can.
surprisingly enough however, one of the biggest catalysts for his improving mental health has been... the nightmare/moment of clarity?
it started off as her not having any fun messing with somebody who was already so beaten down, but the paradigm has long sense shifted from that.
Don't get me wrong, he's still a pushover. but less so now.
^these headcanons courtesy of @kalkori btw (hiii kb :3)
His feathers are a mess most of the time. the hunted is his saving grace in this respect.
actually, him and the hunted have grown rather close, in their own weird way.
Voice of The Stubborn:
he's a shoebill stork!
him and the adversary/eye of the needle are in a relationship together.
They've since branched out and gotten other hobbies other than beating the shit out of eachother (though they still do that frequently),
like beating the shit out of invasive plants, and picking fights with the more powerful princesses together
^the tower has not known a moment of peace since this began. she will not know a moment of peace again.
he frequently wrestles with the long quiet for fun!
hotblooded in the most literal way possible. actual walking heater.
likes pestering the skeptic.
Voice of the Paranoid:
most of these headcanons are also going to be courtesy of kb they are the number one voice of the paranoid fan to me
He's a Bittern! longass neck having ass
he is straight up sneef snorfin it
Frequently overpreens, leading to multiple bald spots.
the long quiet has put him into a longass cone over this one at least one occasion.
unlike the smitten, he doesn't really care about the bald spots.
buddies with the hunted!
is not happy about the whole "Moment Of Clarity hanging out with the broken" deal. Is only going along with it because he seems so much happier nowadays. (relative to how he was before, anyway.)
Will instinctively start muttering "heart lungs liver nerves" whenever he senses she's near.
By the way, the mantra still works. and now he can do it on other people, same body or not.
Considering using this ability to become a doctor!
extends his neck out really far on instinct whenever he feels threatened. just bittern things <3
Also, him and the smitten are friends, against all odds. nobody knows how their friendship functions with the way they are
Voice of the Cheated:
dont have a solid bird idea for him but a dodo bird could be really fun
i love him he sucks so much
Somehow keeps getting himself injured in ways that he just straight up could Not feasibly predict or prevent. he is NOT taking it in stride.
absolutely despises the opportunist, considers him a slimy, cheating bastard.
Isn't allowed to participate in board game sessions anymore.
not after the incident.
but he is allowed to observe and call people out if they try and cheat.
He's mellowed out a bit since the construct. just a bit.
he hates preening himself, and tends to get fidgety when other people preen him. but he always relents eventually, if only because he very much dislikes how uncomfortable it is to have unpreened feathers.
Voice of the Cold
also someone who's mellowed out a bit. Still, his walls are up.
But it's a lot harder to keep up a facade of disconnection when you have your own body. when you're more than just an observer. he tries regardless. And mostly succeeds. But the long quiet knows the truth.
The spectre and moment of clarity will sneak up behind him and try to jumpscare him with cold hands on his shoulders. it never works.
always ridiculously cold. counteracts this with the power of always layering.
butts heads with the smitten a lot. and the stubborn, actually.
He considers both of them hopeless romantics with nothing better to do except fawn over their partners.
Voice of the Skeptic
He'd probably be some kind of owl?
i'm gonna be honest i ain't got much for him but he does get along well with the paranoid, being able to reign him in from his more... impulsive worries.
Nobody realises that him and the prisoner are in a relationship. they don't plan on telling anyone until they find out.
he enjoys puzzles of any kind! jigsaw, logic, math, crossword, you name it.
good at white lies, but terrible at telling lies with any sort of substance or ill intent behind them.
tends to pace around a lot when deep in thought.
him and stubborn are shitasses to eachother most of the time.
Voice of the Opportunist
definitely a vulture.
he sucks so goddamn much i love him
he's actually turned the two-faced-ness down a bit since the construct. just a bit.
likes hanging out with the smitten, he thinks he's funny. No, no, he's not getting attached. shut it.
him and the witch hang out a lo too, but in a way that involves, well. a lot of biting.
they basically just playfight, but like. fighting dirty playfighting.
...He tends to avoid the thorn. he feels a bit guilty around her.
quiet ass footsteps. he just... appears in places sometimes. refuses to acknowledge this.
he eats bugs. and a lot of other weird things, actually.
both of these are because he's pretty much always hungry. if you leave food out he will have some.
he is much more impulsive than he would have you believe.
aaand that's all of them for now! if you read all of this we are now married /j
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magicalink · 1 year
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The Catboys' place
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What place do they stay the most in your life? Catboys Headcanons for Catboys in the House!
Fluff and romance but also smutty themes👀
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Venti
By your side. Venti has been a sweetheart boyfriend from the very start. He's the one you started this adventure with, and ever since he became your boyfriend he's always been by your side. At the other side of the bed, always within reach of your hand, ready to comfort you if needed. Always splitting all responsibilities in half. You took care of the house and started this little family together, sharing everything life had to offer. Always together in the good and bad times, always offering you a shoulder to cry or laugh on, it feels as if you were an old married couple sometimes. You love and value the feeling of stability he brings to your life, and you hold him very dearly beside your heart, the same place he always is for you 💕
Xiao
Tied to your wrist. From the very start, before he could turn into his humanoid form, Xiao was your personal guardog guardcat. You saved his life and he is committed to risk his for yours even if it's not necessary. Ever since he got healthy due to your cares, he trained non stop to be fit and strong to be able to protect you! No pests will go unnoticed under the mighty general cat's guard! Roaches, spiders, rats, consider them anihilated! Bu he has alto trained his human body...
He's so strong! A true compact tiger! His muscles are rock hard and his sole purpose is to protect you, so Archons forbid robbers even think about entering the house! Those strong arms are capable of the utmost tenderness when used to lift you up and carry you, but if someone dared harm you, they would crush your enemies to pieces! They are also so nice to look at when fucking him missionary style.
Fortunately no one has threathened the safety of your house, so he hasn't needed to use his strenght yet. But he's still by your side 24/7 making sure that you're safe and sound and that all your needs are met. You frequently tell him to chill, to focus on himself, to not call you Master and that you're ok. You worry about him too and you want him to prioritize himself instead of you, but of course you value his love, his loyalty and the loving way he cares about you.
Albedo
On your back. Albedo is always on thr background and always has your back through anything. He is the calm, collected and responsible adult you always wanted to be. Not only he is smart and logical but he is efficient and knows expertly what to prioritise in order to live a pleasant domestic life. You and Venti did a pretty decent job, but ever since Albedo joined thr household, it truly began to thrive. He is the master administrator of finances and he takes care most of the house chores with diligency and useful methods. Of course you all help him except for Kuni but he is simply so fast proactive that he gets things done before you even think of assessing the task. You feel guilty somethimes, you tell him it's like he's working as a housekeeper without a salary, but he insists it's his way of paying you back for your kindness to shelter him in your house while the police is stilll hunting him down. Since he can't contribute with money like Venti or you because he list his job as a scientist and no one is paying him for his current research, he opts to help relieve the weight of many domestic labors from you.
Albedo truly has your back all the time. You deeply value and respect each other. You support his work and he supports yours. On top of that, he tends to be the voice of reason in the house. When everyone else fails to act mature he takes the upper hand and helps you solve your problems by correctly adulting.
Also he knows things about biology and medicine so he takes care of your health. Especially the health of Xiao, your littlest kitty, and the one who can't fully turn into human so you can't take him to any formal doctor.
Kazuha
On your rooftop. Kazuha is a free spirit and he loves to wander the city as a cat. He lives for trqveling and having adventures so he is out most of the time. But he always comes back hime with new stories to tell. When he is around, you can always find him on top of the house, loyal vigilant watching over your little family's home. Even if you don't know for sure if he's back or not, you sleep soundly every night feeling his everlasting presence on top of your room.
Very often he enters through the lil cat door and lands on your bed in the early morning, right after he arrives from one of his adventures. He'll make sure not to disturb your sleep, and will recieve you with caresses and smiles when you finally wake up. He'll be delighted to tell you his stories if you ask him for them.
You love the feeling of stability and familiarity he gives you. He is like a comet that always comes back home, illuminating the night sky with his gentle glow. He's your best friend for sure, even if sometimes more intimate stuff ends up happening between you two...
Scara/Kuni/Wanderer
On top of you. Whether it's with his face buried between your breasts or lost inside your folds, he is always on top of you, letting all of his weight on your comfy body like you're his personal bed or something.
For such a tsundere type, he is really clingy. He is pretty touch-starved and loves physical affection. All he can't express with words because of his annoying pride he will make up with touches. Being stuck to you while you're doing things, clinging from your arm or with his face on your shoulder with the excuse of annoying you, not letting go when you walk, bites, caresses, hugs, fervent kisses and of course, sex...That's the ultimate expression of his bottled up feelings. He wishes he could be inside of you forever. Those warm folds between your legs have become the home he never had, and he makes sure to enjoy every single second you welcome him inside of them.
He is also a sucker for your plush boobies. He'll be all over them all day long if you let him, kneading, kissing, sucking, just resting his face on them, doesn't matter he needs to be stuck to you.
Wherever you are and whatever you're doing, he'll make sure to remind you that you decided to pick him up so now you have to put up with him. Not that it's a problem, though, since you love having him on you at all times.
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A/N: So that's it for todays post :3 This is my first post of 2023! I will try to post once a week! Couldnt finish any old wips so I just started a new one and finally got it done😎 I'll still be trying to finish wips that I promised to bring like that Venti x Xiao x reader 3some and chap 3 of Catboys in the house and that smutty fic where Fatui Scara convinces reader to fuck in an alley 👀
See you then!
Any headcanons you have for genshin catboys? 👀
Catboys in the House Masterlist
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