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octoberclidan · 7 months

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It's Just Sam

Request: ok im not used to requesting yet so sorry if im doing this wrong but im sad so i need me some early seasons sam fluff (MAYBBBE EVEN SMUT🫢)like reader jokingly calling him sammy and he starts acting all weird or something (andd somehow leads to smut?)

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Note: This is 18+, do not read if you're under 18.

Masterlist

Story:

"So, it's all over now?" [Y/N] asked, wrapping her cardigan tight around her, the cold night air forming goosebumps on her arms.

"Should be, you saw him burn up, right?" Sam asked, looking up to the room of the hotel where they'd all just spent an hour being thrown around by a vengeful spirit.

"Yeah... yeah I did". She chuckled, not quite believing the night she'd just had.

"You were awesome, the way you dodged him and figured out it was the painting, you handled that like a pro". Dean smiled at her and clapped her back, causing her to stumbled forwards a little. "Sorry". He grimaced but she laughed it off.

"It's okay, nothing compared to being thrown around by a ghost for an hour in a little hotel room".

"How's your arm?" Sam asked, looking at how she was holding it with her other hand.

"It's fine, I think it'll just bruise. Nothing broken anyway. How's your back? You got thrown against that wall pretty hard".

"Oh he's used to it, right Sammy?" Dean smirked at him.

"Sammy?" She asked, looking up at the man who had just saved her life. They had burst into her room just as the ghost had appeared, time to exchange names hadn't really come up yet. Now that she was looking at him properly, she could see genuine concern in his face. He was extremely handsome, very tall, very broad, but was crossing his arms as if he was trying to make himself seem smaller, maybe less intimidating than he naturally came across as.

He cleared his throat, glaring at Dean. "It's uh, Sam. It's just Sam. Dean's my brother, it's just him who calls me that".

"Oh.. I'm sorry". She blushed and looked away from him.

"No don't be, it's fine". His cheeks now blushing too. "You should get some rest, I bet you're tired".

She shivered from the cold and looked up to her hotel room, the light still on. "Yeah... not sure how much sleep I'm gonna get after all that, plus the smell of burnt paint". She laughed, the heat from her breath fogging the air.

"Maybe they have another room you could switch to?" Sam suggested but Dean hit him on the back of his head, [Y/N] missing the interaction as she continued to stare up at the room, visions of the ghost still at the front of her mind.

"Or Sammy could stay with you, protect you, he's good at that". If she'd been more familiar with Dean's voice she would've heard the smirk through it. "I'm gonna head out to the bar and I don't intend on being back until morning, so there's a spare bed in our motel room just down the road. Not as fancy as this hotel but as motels go, it's not bad". She turned around to see him wink at her.

"I wouldn't want to intrude, I could-"

"You wouldn't be intruding!" Sam cut her off quickly. A little bit too quickly. He cleared his throat again, and avoided Dean's direction, though he could already see Dean's smirk very clearly in his mind. "I mean, you probably wouldn't get much sleep staying here tonight, and the motel isn't that bad. I'm sure you have questions too, I don't mind answering them?"

"Oh, well yeah, if you really don't mind then that would be nice". She smiled at Sam and he nodded at her, visibly relaxing and now hopeful that he didn't come across as too enthusiastic.

"We'll help you get your stuff, then I need a drink". Dean clapped Sam's shoulder and pressed his hand to the small of [Y/N]'s back, pushing them in front of him to stand beside each other as he guided them back through to the hotel's reception. Sam's arm brushed against [Y/N]'s and he mumbled a 'sorry', looking down at her and rolling his eyes back to his brother, smiling when [Y/N] giggled at him.

***

"Sorry again about Dean". Sam said as he opened the door to the motel room. He had [Y/N]'s bag over his shoulder and she followed behind him, not being able to help her eyes wander across the large expanse of his back. His jacket and t-shirt had rucked up a bit from the bag and she could see tanned skin just above the waistband of his jeans.

"It's okay". She said as she closed the door behind them. Sam let the bag down on one of the beds and went to sit on the other, facing her. "Thanks for everything". She breathed out as she walked to the bed with her bag on it, sitting down beside it and facing Sam. "So, this is what you guys do? Kill ghosts?"

"And monsters, demons, anything that hurts people really". He shrugged casually, and she widened her eyes at how nonchalant he was about it.

"All of that is in this small town?"

"No, no we travel around. We're actually kinda looking for our dad at the moment, we just take on cases as we come across them".

She sat there for a moment, taking it in. Just an hour ago she had no idea that anything supernatural existed, and now she was sitting opposite a guy who hunted supernatural beings for a living. "How long have you been doing this? You and your brother?" She asked and he looked away, almost a look of shame on his face.

"My mom died when I was a baby, Dean was four. Demon. My dad's been hunting it down ever since, so I guess I've been in it pretty much my whole life. Except, I spent four years in college, Dean came to get me a few months ago". She raised an eyebrow at this.

"You went to college? Like, to study the supernatural or something?"

"No". Sam chuckled. "I was studying law actually". He looked back to her and smiled sadly. "Wasn't meant to be. This is my life, me and Dean. Saving people, hunting things, the family business, as he says anyway". He sighed, as if he was relieved to have someone to explain it to. "What about you? What brings you here?"

"This is just a stop, I'm on my way home from staying with a friend for a few weeks. I should be home tomorrow afternoon". She covered her mouth as she yawned. "I think I should get some sleep, I have a long drive ahead of me tomorrow". He nodded as she said this.

"You should use the bathroom first then". He said and she stood up, smiling at him before grabbing her bag and heading to the bathroom. She closed the lid on the toilet and sat on it, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. She wasn't actually that tired, but looking at Sam for so long was difficult. He was incredibly attractive, genuine, and big. If she'd sat in front of him for any longer she would've found it difficult to hide the fact that she'd been pressing her legs together, trying to relieve some tension. She felt ridiculous. She'd just found out about the supernatural, had been thrown around by a ghost, saved by two strangers, and was now alone in a motel room with one of them, and all she could think about was touching his skin. She imagined how his hair would feel between her fingers, how his lips would feel on his neck, what he tasted like...

"[Y/N]"? Sam's muffled voice travelled through the door as he knocked on it. She shook her head and cleared her throat.

"Yeah?"

"You okay in there?"

"Yeah... yeah give me a minute".

"Take your time, just checking on you". She stood up and looked into the mirror above the sink. Just checking on you, she added 'considerate' to her list of adjective for Sam. She quickly turned on the tap and splashed some cold water into her face in an attempt to calm herself down. She stripped out of her clothes and rummaged through her bag for her pyjamas, setting them on the counter as she pulled out her toiletries. She scooped up her hair onto the top of her head, securing it there as she stepped into the shower. She was pleasantly surprised to find the water hot, making sure to make it quick and not use it all up.

Once she was washed and into her pyjamas, which consisted of a loose t-shirt and shorts, she left the room and walked past Sam to her bed. He looked up at her as she walked by and he swallowed nervously, trying not to stare at her bare legs or how the baggy shirt left part of her shoulder exposed. He quickly excused himself to the bathroom, and she lay back on the bed, her mind once again wandering, imagining what the room she'd just been in now looked like with Sam in there. She imagined how the water looked dripping from his body, how he'd spread the soap over his torso, his legs, his arms. She let out a shaky breath as she pictured what was happening just beyond the thin wooden door between them.

She was pulled from her thoughts at the sound of the door unlocking, and she tried not to stare as Sam stepped out, dressed in jeans and a new t-shirt which just about fit, apart from his arms, where it hugged his muscles a little too tight. Droplets of water dripped from his hair onto his shoulder as he sat down on his bed, looking straight at [Y/N], watching her as she looked at his body, no longer able to stop herself. He chuckled and this caught her attention, pulling her gaze up to his face, where she noted his dimples before locking eyes with him. "What you thinking about?" He asked, grinning at her. She blushed and swallowed, looking away and shaking her head.

"Sorry".

"Don't be. I should take a look at that arm, just to check it". He said as he stood up to cross over to her bed, sitting on the edge of it and reaching his hand out to her. She sat up and reached towards him. He lifted her arm and placed it in his hand. He was warm, safe. He looked it over and gently turned it over, a look of concentration on his face as he examined it. "Just a bruise. Dean was right, you were great in there".

"You think?" She asked quietly, her arm still in Sam's hand.

"Yeah, a lot of people freeze. You didn't, you listened to us and figured out what needed to burn. It was refreshing". His thumb now lightly glided over her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps as it did. "Are you cold?" He asked as he saw her try to hide a shiver.

"A little".

"Why don't you get under the covers then and get some sleep, I'll help you with your stuff in the morning". He smiled and let go of her arm before getting up, giving her space to pull back her covers and slide in.

"Thank you again, for everything. I can't imagine what would have happened if you two hadn't shown up when you had". She looked up to him as he sat back down on her bed.

"You're safe now". He smiled. He leaned over cautiously, giving her time to move away, and pressed his lips to her forehead. Without thinking she reached up and lightly touched his cheek as he pulled back slightly to look into her eyes. She absentmindedly stroked his jaw, slightly scratchy from the light shadow of stubble on it. When he made no indication of pulling away farther, her thumb lightly skimmed his lower lip, and he brought his hand up to rest on her cheek, returning the favour. He kissed her thumb, keeping eye contact with her.

"Sam". She whispered, not calling to him, not trying to get his attention, just liking the feel of his name on her lips. She slipped her hand to the back of his neck, letting his damp hair slip through her fingers as she made an attempt to pull him closer. He obliged, leaning down so his lips hovered over hers. They closed their eyes as their lips touched, both of them slightly hesitant. She licked at his lips and he immediately let her in, deepening the kiss as their tongues worked together. Her grip in his hair tightened and he groaned, pushing her hands around her back and pulling her up, letting the covers slide off and lifting her, putting his hand under her knee to pull her over onto his lap so she was straddling him. His hands rested on her hips, slowly encouraging her to grind against him as she broke the kiss, kissing down his jaw and settling into his neck where she kissed and licked. He leaned his head to the side, giving her more access as he pushed one of his hands under her t-shirt, grabbing her waist.

"I want to feel you". She whispered into his ear as her hands trailed down his sides to the hem of his t-shirt. He threw his head back and groaned before leaning in to kiss her jaw.

"Take it off then". He mumbled into her skin. She grabbed his shirt and pulled up until she couldn't reach anymore, then he helped and threw it into a corner of the room. She sat back in his lap and placed her hands onto his chest, feeling his heart beat quickly beneath them. Slowly, she let her hands fall down his chest, feeling the muscles in his abdomen tense as she glided over them. He shivered as she reached his waistband, his skin warm under her finger tips. He grabbed her hands and placed them over his belt. "Take it off". He whispered into her ear, returning his hands to her waist as she began to unbuckle his belt. Once his belt was off, he pushed her shirt up and over her head, immediately reaching around to unclasp her bra, leaving her in just her shorts. He stared at her for a moment, blush slowly creeping onto his cheeks as he thought about the situation he was in. "You're beautiful". He tentatively raised a hand to grab a boob, the other resting on her hip, one of his fingers dipping into her waistband. She returned to his neck as he felt her, moaning as she kissed up along his jaw and finally settled on his lips again. She could feel him hard beneath her as she rocked her hips back and forth over him.

"I need more". He decided as he flipped her over onto the bed and crawled on top of her, kissing up her stomach and between her breasts, up along her neck and jaw to her lips. She clung onto his shoulders as he reached down and pushed her shorts down. "Can I have more?" He whispered into her mouth and she nodded immediately.

"You can have whatever you want, Sam". She kicked off her shorts and spread her legs for him. His fingers danced around the top of her panties before they dipped inside. He groaned at the wetness and continued to kiss her as he pushed a finger inside, feeling the warmth and softness of her. "Sam". She moaned as he used his thumb to brush against her clit. He continued to work her up, slipping another finger inside, and then another, hitting just the right spot inside her. When he felt her tighten up he'd pull away for a moment, smiling as she whimpered, before working her back up again. "I want to feel you too". She moaned after his third go at edging her. He pushed himself off her and stood up. She looked up as he stood between her legs and pushed his jeans and boxers down in one go, his cock standing up against his stomach as he stepped out of his clothes. She quickly pulled her panties down and kicked them off as Sam leaned over to the bag on his bed, pulling out a little silver foil.

"We don't have to do everything if you don't want to, just let me know". He said as he lay the foil down on the bed and pulled her up into a sitting position. He remained standing between her legs as she looked over his body. "You can touch me, if you want". He said as he tucked her hair behind her ear. She nodded and reached forward, closing her hand around him and smiling as he twitched against her touch. She began to slowly pump him up and down, twisting slightly, brushing her thumb over his slit to collect some of the precum and spread it over his length. "That feels amazing". He groaned as he knocked his head back, starting to thrust into her hand. She leaned forwards and licked him from the base to the tip. "Fuck". He muttered as he looked down at her. She knew he'd taste good, and looking up at the pleasure on his face just made her more eager to continue. She took him completely into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks as she continued to lick around him. He grabbed her hair and held it back as she blew him, enjoying every moment until he pulled her off him. "I won't last if you keep that up, I want to be inside you".

"I want that too". She wiped her mouth quickly and pushed herself back onto the bed as he grabbed the foil. He tore it open with his teeth as if it was something he did every day, and for the first time that night, she wondered just how many times he'd slept with the girl he'd saved. She quickly pushed that out of her head as she watched him roll the condom on, pinching the tip before crawling back over her. He rubbed his tip against her entrance a couple of times before looking into her eyes. "Are you good?" He asked and she nodded, keeping eye contact with him as he slowly pushed inside her, pulling a moan from her lips. "Fuck... you feel good". He chuckled quietly as he leaned down to kiss her. "Can I move?" He asked as he pecked the corner of her mouth. She quickly nodded and wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him even closer. He kissed her again as he pulled out, leaving just the head inside before thrusting back in. They kissed each other as Sam rocked his hips into her, quickly slipping into a steady pace. He reached down to circle her clit as he kissed her neck and she gasped at the sensation.

She could feel the pressure building back up again, stronger than before now that Sam was filling her, hitting the right spot with each thrust, giving her clit just the right amount of attention. She lightly bit his earlobe and kissed his jaw as he remained nestled into her neck, the vibrations from his moans spreading throughout her. They began to moan each other's name as she tightened around him, all of the pressure suddenly being released and travelling up throughout her body and down through her legs. She shook around him as he stilled inside of her, spilling into the condom. He collapsed on top of her, resting his head in between her neck and shoulder as he caught his breath. She turned her head to kiss his cheek and pushed her hand into his hair, gently rubbing his head while catching her own breath. "Sorry". He mumbled into her. "I'm squishing you". He pushed himself up and leaned his elbows either side of her head before ducking down to kiss her lips. "You're incredible".

"So are you". She giggled and cupped his cheek, pulling him back down for another kiss. "I think I need another shower".

He chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, yeah I think I need one too. Wanna share?" He asked and she nodded, letting him pull her up with him. She expected him to let go once she had her feet on the ground, but he scooped her up into his arms and held her against his chest, carrying her into the bathroom. "I think we'll only need one bed tonight". He grinned at her, showing off his dimples again as he set her down in front of the toilet, leaning into the shower to turn it on.

"Definitely". She grinned back at him.

The end

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ravensmadreads · 1 month

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The Mess of Us

A/N: i have no excuse honestly. I've imprinted on David York for reasons unfathomable to my own brain. This is my attempt at giving him a redemption arc? A softer backstory? My heart and soul? Who knows.

Warnings: uhhhh lots of angst (i mean i tried), almost entirely canon compliant, vague-ish attempt at smut, mild cursing, insane use of italics. (Also: english is not my first language and im faking being a writer but i think this came out okay??? Pls be kind he's my lil babie!!)

Summary: I gave david york my heart and then proceeded to bash it with a sledgehammer - forgive me :p this is the same universe as What Love Means

Taglist: @fuckyeahdindjarin cause i wouldn't be writing without you; @chronically-ghosted thank u to listening to me cry about Dave, and my writing, and myself - i owe u my life; @wannab-urs you absolute maniac i adore u; @timelordfreya u were so kind on the accompanying piece for this i hope you like this too <3

David York

You've known that name for a long time. Stayed with the man that inhabits it even longer. He goes by Dave now. Lives in a suburban home. Has two daughters. An "office job". A respectable man. A good man. A little misguided perhaps. A little bit more jaded than he used to be. More broken than you remember. The light in his eyes all but snuffed out. But a good man.

He was always a good man.

Even when he was no longer yours.

Even when he was no longer David.

****

David York and his sunshine. Neighbours. Best friends. Light of each others lives.

You're two halves of one whole in a way that makes no sense from the outside, but when you tread close enough you can pinpoint the exact strands that join your soul to his. The way his heart is an exact mirror to yours. The way your smile reflects the sun in his eyes and his warmth leaves you feeling more loved than any being in the entire universe. You'd stumbled across him, buried between the pages of a book twice the size of his head, and you thought: Oh God. It's you. It's going to be you. And you decided you'd never let him go.

Until he decided to leave.

He's so excited when he gets the call. When he makes his plans and packs his bags. When he tells you all about the good he's going to do, the hero he's going to become.

"I'll be back soon sunshine. You won't even know I'm gone."

You try to convince him to stay. With everything you've got in you. All your jokes, all your warmth, all your schemes. When that fails you give him your heart. Your tears. Explain that you can't live without him. That he can't expect you to live without him and not fall apart at the seams because he's the thread that holds you together. And when you see the anguish on his face at your confession, you revel a little because you think you've won. He's going to stay for you because of course he is. He's your David. He cups your cheeks in his hands. Lips meet your forehead as his words break your heart:

"I'm sorry sunshine. You know I have to go. I have to do this. You know."

So you wipe off your tears and you smile. Because that's what you're supposed to do for a friend and that's what you do for him. Give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Tell him to be safe.

"Don't get your butt kicked too much David. I need you back in one piece."

And that's the first time David York turns his back on your smile.

****

You wait for him. Like the inexplicable fool you are. Wander aimlessly in the streets around your childhood home like a spirit too tired to haunt anyone but itself. Waiting for him to come back and spark you alive again. Awakening for the few weeks of leave he has before reverting to your state of nothingness the minute the door closes behind him. Flitting like a ghost of yourself, nothing tethering you to this place, but still incapable of moving on without him.

Because he was David York. Your best friend.

Your good man. Your solid rock.

Until he wasn't.

Until he left.

****

You learn to make your way without him. Stumble, fall and scrape your knees more than once, without him by your side clucking and fussing like the mother hen he was. Without him to hold you up and bring you close:

"You’ve got to be careful honey. I can't be losing my sunshine."

You find a purpose and make your stand into the big bad world but all of it feels hollow without him by your side. You learn to stitch people up, bandage their wounds, hold bleeding skin in place and snap broken bones back together again. He laughs when he finds out, equal parts amused and proud.

"Looks like you became the anti-Dave sunshine."

And you smile for him, because of course you do. You don't tell him that everything you're learning, you're learning because of him. Because of the sheer wall of terror that's settled in your spine since the moment he walked away. Because of the David that comes to you in your dreams. The one that crumbles in front of you; broken and damaged and begging for help. The one you're trying so hard to save.

You may be his sunshine, but he was always your sun, and you'll protect him, even if he doesn't want you to.

****

The David that comes to you now is not yours. He's an off brand version of himself. A cheap copy. An imposter that calls himself Dave and smirks in a way that makes your skin crawl. He wears Davids skin but has none of his warmth. The sunshine in his smile is replaced by an ice cold sharpness and you hate that shivers it sends down your spine. His eyes have lost most of the humour they used to have, and when he hugs you he lets go a little too soon. A little too fractured, a little too cold. You hold on; assessing, caring, and wondering. Go to ask but he shakes his head; the look in his eyes silencing your questions before the words can form on your lips. The worry in your heart worsens.

When he walks you home you try again but he anticipates it. Like the predator he is now, he sees your strike coming, and retaliates in the one way he knows will force your silence. He kisses you. Hot and deep. Steals the air from your lungs and the words from your brain. Renders you shocked. When you open your eyes it's your David staring back again and your relieved smile has him pushing into you again. He kisses you until you're breathless. Again, and again, and again, until all your worries are dripping unvoiced at your feet and all your questions have been sucked into the air in his lungs.

You don't fall into each other as much as you attack. The culmination of years of circling each other and it all comes down to this. Mouths open, teeth clashing like you're trying to make your way into each others souls. His hands grab you so desperately, so fervently, that you wonder how he hasn't moulded you into his own chest yet. Your nails scratching at him like you're trying to carve a home in his bones. You’re trying to tear pieces of each other apart. Him, so he may take you with him and you, so you never have to watch him leave again. You devour every inch of him so reverently that the taste of him may remain embedded in your tongue forever. And he carves his way into you, soothing an emptiness that only ever craved him. Pounding in like he's trying to break you open and consume the light within. You cling to each other in the aftermath, breathless, sated and smiling, and you remember placing a kiss on his heart right before you drift off in his embrace.

You should've known, in retrospect, that that was as good as it was ever going to get.

He leaves you in an empty bed. Runs away before the dawn breaks like the consequences of what you both did are too ugly to be faced in the light of day. You turn the apartment upside down looking for one note, one glimpse, one hint of him that's not mottled on your skin and going to be torn away by the cruel hands of time.

You take the dismissal for what it is when you don't find one.

****

He comes back broken. Purple shadows under his eyes, a split lip and a wince that breaks you when you go to hug him. The storm breaks and you lunge. Too strung out to keep going like this any longer and too frazzled by thoughts of "what if it was worse" to think about the consequences of breaking your silence.

Your fists pound against the rock hard of his chest. The place that used to be your solace, your comfort, your home. Where you'd set your head too many times to count and where all your dreams ever went to rest. And they've turned it to stone, moulded him into a machine, changed him into something he's not.

"You're not a fucking hero David. You're not. And I'm asking you to stop trying to be one. I'm asking you to stop this self sacrificial bullshit and come back. Come home. You don't need to be a hero. You just need to be alive. I need you alive dammit! Why can't you see how much I need you?"

Your voice falters and cracks. It's out there now, the pieces of your heart; ugly, tattered and split open in front of him. Waiting for his judgement, for his grace. His face twists into a grimace, and you turn your head before he can see the tears fall. You don't need his apologies. His empty words and false promises of how nothing will ever happen to him, because it will, you know it will. So you hold up a hand before he can begin.

"It's okay. I get it. This is your life now, right? So will you forgive me then, if I can't stand around watching you try to kill yourself and wait for the day you inevitably succeed?"

Something in his eyes breaks at your words, and something in your heart does when he gathers you in his arms. The kiss on your temple feels like a goodbye. To your one solace, your one crutch and the only friend you ever had. And you know this goodbye will haunt you forever.

That's the one time you turn your back on David York.

****

He comes back with an extra sparkle in his eyes. Pleads and begs his way into your good graces and you indulge him because that's what you do for David. His smile has never been brighter. He may call you sunshine but he has always been your shining light, your beacon, the lighthouse you turn to.

But then he turns away. And in a split second, your world tilts on it's axis.

Carol.

Her name is Carol. Perfectly normal. Perfectly sweet. Perfectly perfect. He's got his hand in her hand and you don't understand. You can't. You refuse. Except.... David. He looks so happy. So content. Looks at her with all the devotion you've only ever given him, and all the love you wish he could've given you.

"What do think sunshine? I think she may be the one."

You smile. Because that's what you always do for David. You smile. It's an ugly thing. Fractured. Broken. He notices because of course he does. You've never been able to hide from him, ingrained as he is into your very soul. His smile falters and his eyes fill with sorrow and regret. Apologies for all he could never be and all the regret he has about it.

"You did good York. You'll be great together."

He flinches. He has only ever been David to you. He knows he has broken something irreparable. Opens his mouth to fix it. To swallow something back, say something else instead. Change the words, the letters, the combinations of decisions that led you both to this very moment. Something to keep you whole but the parts he shattered, however unwittingly, are already crumbling to dust in front of him. He closes his mouth. Swallows whatever lingered at the back of his throat. You smile at each other as you walk away. Him with her hand in his. You with the cloud of pain that comes from finally accepting the bitter truth for what it is.

He's not yours. Not anymore. Never will be again.

You never call him David again.

***

You miss him. Of course you do. Running from him was like running from a part of yourself; impossible, regretful and pointless. You were intwined into each other too thoroughly for there to ever be a clean cut through. You couldn't really walk away from him completely no matter what the distance on a map points out.

You know he'll call when he comes back again. He does. Shows up at the threshold of your sanity and the hardest thing you've ever done is ignore his voice when it calls to you. Voicemail, after voicemail, after voicemail. You listen to every single one but you can't call him back. His voice is your kryptonite. You'd walk back the distance if only you could but some tattered remnants of your self esteem hold you back. The last one comes with a letter in the mail. The glossy embellished card reminds you of the reason you walked away. The reason you could never go back. He pleads over static and tinny phone lines:

"Come on sunshine. I need you there. I'm sorry. I'm so s-. Please. I- "

Silence for a few minutes before the line cuts off. Typical of you both. To never say what you want and yet be assured the other knows exactly what you mean. He probably knows too. That you can't bear to see someone else's name next to his. The thought makes you nauseous; angry in a way that scares you, an evil coiling restless being inside of you, threatening to do as he asks. Go over there and scream in his face. The audactiy of this man to say he needs you when all you ever wanted was for him to pick you. Over the chip on his shoulder, the gun in his hand, the name on that card. Choose you. Love you. But you can't do any of that. You can't stand by his side and smile as he walks away with another either.

His only mercy is that he doesn't show up at your doorstep when you both know he could and you wouldn't be able to close the door in his face. Not him. Never him.

You throw the card away without opening it.

He forgives you.

But he never calls again.

***

Months turn to years and David York turns from a stabbing ache into a memory and then a ghost. He haunts you initially, at every turn, but slowly, over the years, the voice in your head softens down. He vanishes into the fog that lingers at the back of your mind and you stop looking over your shoulder for him to come back. You left him so suddenly, so abruptly, that you'd torn off pieces of yourself too. But time heals those wounds and you gradually learn to carry on as half of your bleeding heart slowly scabs and scars over.

You carve out a content little place for yourself, in a tiny corner of the world as you finally learn to love the reflection in your mirror. There's grey in your hair now. Wrinkles in your skin and hands hardened over from a life lived serving others. Saving who you can, when you can. A melody on your lips as you collect the parcels from your mailbox. Cocoa and bitter coffee long since mask the taste of his name on your breath.

There's a knock at your door and you flit to open it. Your smile, a pale imitation of what it used to be, plastered on, as you brace yourself to greet a well meaning neighbour or two. It falls quicker than lightning at the sight that greets you instead.

A man wavers at your doorstep. Unfamiliar in his familiarity. The ghost of a memory of a love never forgotten. Dripping crimson over the smiley face on your welcome mat. A haphazard bandage concealing half his face. One hand clearly broken. Arm bent at an angle too sharp to be natural. Angry streaks of purple and blue dancing around all visible patches of skin and he's trying to be nonchalant about the way he's favouring his right leg but failing miserably. Wheezing a breath that you know speaks of atleast one, if not several, broken ribs. And yet, despite all the damage and destruction and sheer agonizing pain he's no doubt in, the man smiles. Full and bright and warm.

"Hey sunshine."

And you reply.

A gasp. A plea. A promise.

David.

****

#david york x reader #dave york x reader #raven writes #(again)#(somebody stop me already)#ok so this is quite literally my heart in a fic so PLS be kind #off u go bby #raven on her david york agenda #yeeting into the void and running away

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growup-thatbeautiful · 1 year

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hellooo, hi, im not sick anymore (more or less) and in surprisingly great spirits! i was thinking, if you wanted to write more Zeffirelli and absolutely and i mean ABSOLUTELY no pressure maybe we could have some sort of university themed kinda fic? not an AU just kind of widening the lens of The French dispatch to see Zeffirelli as a students not just his after school activities. im thinking like a philosophy student poet boyfriend x art and film theory painter reader kinda situation. studying and going to interesting lectures and to cinema in the evenings..idk it would be lovely to have some nice uni vibes to motivate me. also if you don't feel Zeffirelli now Timothee himself would be very much okay too i feel like. it is all up to you. sending you great energy, love you, message me if you want to brainstorm this story or want to talk literally about anything xx

omg hiiii!!! it’s fall now!! zeffirelli would be living his best life. i was really missing zeffirelli and timmy. timothee always renters my brain this time of year so be prepared. it’s movie szn brainrot time, my friends.

coincidentally enough, this happens to be my 700th follower celebration as well! yay!

uhhh so usually i write the translations at the bottom but i didn’t keep up this time i’m so sorry 😭😭

zeffirelli masterlist

ensoleillement (sunshine)

“You’re late,” you say, looking at the clock in the corner of your living room.

“I brought compensation.” Zeffirelli holds up a brown paper bag from the pastry shop down the street as an apology. “There's a pain au chocolat in there for you. I also got you a coffee.”

“I hope it’s not in the bag,” you respond drily, but take the bag nonetheless and rifle around for your breakfast. “Where’s the coffee?”

“Here,” he says absently, placing it on the kitchen counter.

“Dieu merci,” you sigh, taking a sip and shouldering your bag. The leather strap digs into your shoulder through the fabric of your coat.

“Thank me, not God,” Zeffirelli complains, ushering you out the door.

“You’re still the reason I’m late.” There’s a warning in your voice, but you can’t put any real venom behind your words. You never can, with him.

“Oui, but you’re not going to any important classes right now.”

“I’m going to math,” you protest. He reaches across you and takes your coffee, sipping it and grimacing. You slap his hand away and retake the coffee. “No matter how much you try, you aren’t going to like the way I have my coffee.”

“That’s because you have terrible taste,” he complains. “Why are still taking those bullshit classes? There are so many better classes to take.” It’s a conversation you’ve had many times, mostly out of jest, but there is some seriousness behind it.

“You mean math?”

Zeffirelli hums. “That’s the one. Why would you waste your time with math when you could be going to philosophy at noon?”

“Because I’m not some poet revolutionary, Zef,” you laugh, bumping your shoulder with his. “Not everyone is as successful as you.”

“Nonsense. You just haven’t shared any of your ideas with other people. Come on, amor, let me know what’s going on in that head of yours.”

“Right now there are a few things, but I don’t think you want to hear them,” you deadpan, gathering your books in your arms.

“Don’t get shy on me now, ensoleillement.” The endearment falls easily from his lips, his favorite term for you, meaning, quite literally, sunshine.

Ironically, you got the nickname on a rainy day when you had been giving him a hard time about his tendency to walk in the rain.

“I have nothing to say to you,” you reply, knocking your shoulder against his as you both try to go out the same door to the street below your apartment.

“All that math is filling your brain with nonsense,” he complains, his shoes scraping against the worn hardwoods. “I can’t have a good philosophical conversation with a mathematician.”

“Just because I’m taking the class doesn’t make me good at it,” you correct absentmindedly. He huffs and steps into pace beside you, his hand brushing against yours. The autumn leaves crunch under your feet, warm red and orange bleeding past as you make your way to class, the air crisp and the sun slinking behind the clouds. You really should be trying to make it to class on time, but you know you’ll regret it if you leave Zeffirelli out here alone with that rosy color on his cheeks from the cool air. Fall suits him well, and he wears the chill running through your fingers well.

It’s better to be here, your hands skimming against his, knuckles red and electric when he touches them than it is to be sitting in a class. Especially because he isn’t in the class.

The walk to your school isn’t much further. Just through the town sits a two-storied brick building where you’ve devoted hours to studying, crying, and trying to get Zeffirelli to take breaks unsuccessfully.

The cobblestones underneath your feet are consistently unsteady, and you find yourself, as usual, looking in awe at the quaint town that wakes up as you walk through.

There’s the flower shop on the corner with the green and white striped awning that gives out free roses on holidays. Next to it, stands a stationary store where you go more days than not to get a hand-pressed piece of paper to write home on. Across the street is a cafè where you and Zeffirelli have spent countless sleepless nights discussing movies and poetry when you should be studying,

This isn’t your hometown, and it isn’t his either, but you both know it more than you ever could know any other place on Earth. Zeffirelli’s American rouge, prophetic attitude couldn’t come from a town this small, but that doesn’t stop it from thriving. Here, nothing can stop him. Not living with his parents, which he does on purpose, or not knowing how to start a manifesto. Those things are trivial and unimportant because this place reveres every waking and sleeping moment it has with him. You and

You, well, you can’t claim this place as your home, but you’ve fallen in love with its poetically simple lifestyle. The two years you’ve been here as an exchange student has been the best you can remember, and you aren’t sure how much of that is related to the boy next to you.

A gut instinct tells you that he might have something to do with it, but you would be drawn into the charm of this town anyway, probably. He’s just an added bonus.

Zeffirelli takes the cup of coffee out of your hand and tosses it into the trashcan before you enter the towering, gray stone building that is your school.

“I’ll see you at lunch?” he asks, walking backward down the opposite hall that you’re traveling. “My mom packed cookies.”

A laugh bubbles from your throat and you can tell you’re grinning like a fool. You genuinely don’t know if he’s joking or not, but you don’t doubt the truth of his words. “I can’t even make fun of you because your mom’s cookies are so good.”

“That’s the sweet spot.” His arms are outstretched wildly as he turns back to go to his class. “I’ll see you later, amor. Don’t have too much fun in math without me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Zef.” There’s still a grin on your face when you walk into class, and you take your seat next to your’s and Zeffirelli’s friend, Mitch Mitch.

Mitch is radically passionate like Zeffirelli, but, as obvious by his presence in a math class, he’s less utterly devoted to the revolution. Which is to say that he’s still deeply invested.

“Did l'auteur make you late again?” Mitch reaches over you and slides today’s work to you. “I swear, you need to stop waiting for him in the mornings.”

“He did indeed.” You lean back in your chair and try to listen to the lecture, and you think you retain about half of the information.

The teacher at the front of the room drones on for half an hour about something you don’t understand, not that you care enough to pay attention. Despite the nature of his ideas, Zefrilli is correct about the fact that math isn’t your thing, nor is it going to help you at all. Especially not when you don’t have a clue what’s going on. Based on the look on Mitch’s face, he understands even less than you do, which is comforting and terrifying at the same time.

“Why did you convince me to take this class?” Mitch groans, flopping onto the desk and banging his head on the wood. “I’m too pretty for math.”

“I don’t think that has anything to do with it.” You pat him on the shoulder consolingly and gather your things together.

“Peut être pas, but it makes me feel better about myself.” You walk side-by-side to the next class. You have film studies with Zefirelli and Mitch has some economic class.

Zefirelli is waiting by the door for you, and, when he sees you, he pushes himself off the frame and asks, “How was the waste of time?”

“It was a waste of time,” Mitch confirms, bumping shoulders with Zefirelli, who looks at you for confirmation, which you readily give.

“Let’s do something worthwhile then, mon chéri.” Zefirelli holds out his arm for you, and you take it easily. “To the magical world of film we go.”

“Onwards we go.”

Lunch doesn’t come soon enough, but, slowly, it comes. Mitch, Zefirelli, and you usually eat together, but today Mitch is going to the cafe down the street with a girl in your class named Layla. She’s sweet, and you hope she’s enough for Mitch.

You and Zefirelli find your normal spot in the corner of a courtyard hidden away in the twisted cobblestone streets. It’s nothing special, just a park bench pretty much, but you wouldn’t eat anywhere else. Not when Zefirelli is sitting close to you.

“What are you writing about?” he asks, leaning over your shoulder to try and read the words in your journal.

“How much I hate math,” you deflect, shutting the small spiral and stuffing it into your backpack.

“That’s not what looks like when you write about something as trivial as math. I’ve seen your math face, and it is much more détestable.”

“You’re telling me that you don’t write enthusiastically about math?” you joke, hoping to deflect the attention.

“Only about my manifesto.”

“Yeah, well you have your manifesto, and I have my movie.” It slips out easily like things usually do around him. You’re so used to telling him everything, so it comes as no school that you’re unable to keep this from him.

The thing is, he isn’t supposed to know about the movie you’re writing. Not because he wouldn't support it, which you’re sure he would, but because there’s no doubt in your mind that he wouldn’t let you hear the end of it. You try to backtrack. “I mean, I have the movie that I’m studying for class-“

“-You’re writing a movie?” he interrupts, his hand frozen where it’s reaching for his food. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I’m not writing a movie,” you attempt. “It was a slip of the tongue. Fourchement de langue.”

“No it wasn’t,” he denies easily. “You’re writing a movie.” This time he doesn’t ask, but he does return to his previous action, splitting the pink-colored cookie in half. He offers one half to you and you take it. You decide not to respond and focus on the cookie instead.

“So, what is this secretive movie about? Hopefully something dashingly bohemian and revolutionary.” You know he’s tuning down his excitement for you, which is nice. At least he’s trying. Hopefully, he knows that you would never keep something like this from him if you weren’t embarrassed.

“Those are your interests, not mine,” you sigh, despite the deception behind your words. Truly, you do care about those things, maybe only because he cares so much about them.

“Yeah? Then why do you work with me on my manifesto so much?” he prods, a grin on his face. Everything about him screams “got you” and you have no choice but to accept his meaning.

“Maybe I like being around you, connasse.”

“That could not possibly be it,” he dismisses easily. His cookie gets placed on the floor beside him and he leans into you, his head coming to rest on your shoulder. “You’re much too talented to be hanging around me all the time.”

“You can’t be serious,” you chastise, your hand running through his hair. “Zef, you’re the most talented person I know. Not only are you some sort of chess wizard, but you also have such a passion for life that I don’t see anyone else. I’m lucky to be around you as much as I am, honestly.”

“You’re just saying that,” he sighs, but there’s a blush rising to his cheeks that fits him so beautifully.

“We’re poets, Zefirell, we only say things that we mean.” He leans heavier into your side and you relax against him, taking his weight happily. The rest of the world passes by, and time passes by, but you don’t care. This is where you want to be, by his side.

You would lift the sky for him, but right now all he needs is a shoulder to lean on. It’s something you’re ready and willing to give.

“You know,” Zefirelli starts, “there are stories about people like us. You know, people that want to change the world. Usually, they have someone by their side, a second-in-command. Napoleon had Josephine, Pierre Curry had Marrie, Sintra had Garder.”

“I think it be more reasonable to say that Marrie had Pierre, given that she was the one who did most of the research. And you’re forgetting that Sinatra and Gardner broke up after 12 years.”

“But she was the only woman he ever loved. Come on, amore, you know that. Anyway, what I was trying to say-” he looks up at you, smiling softly- “before I was so rudely interrupted, is that most people have someone beside them when they start their journey sur le chemin de la révolution. The road to revolution can be lonely.”

“Everything must start in love,” you agree. “Nothing comes out of nothing.”

“Précisément. Would- would you like to be my second-in-command? We have a long way ahead of us, and I think it would be easier if we stuck together.”

“How am I supposed to say no to that?” you breathe, laying your head on top of his and reaching for his hand. “Promise you won’t leave me for someone more antagonistic?”

“You’re enough of an antagonist for me,” he responds in an overly-sweet voice. “Not sure I could handle much more.”

“Good. I prefer you waking me up in the middle of the night rather than anyone else.” You also prefer his head on your shoulder, his hand in your hand, and his figure in your bed, but those are things you keep to yourself for now.

You’ve already got enough of a win for today.

A banging on your door is an unfortunately common event to wake you up. Without checking, you know who’s on the other side of the door. That messy black hair and those piercing eyes are waiting impatiently for you to make your way across your cramped apartment, you’re positive of it.

The floor is cold underneath your socked feet as you make your way over the piles of books, papers, and clothes strewn everywhere across your room. While the trek is short, to your sleep-addled brain it feels like it lasts forever, with you in a dreamlike state of confusion and agitation. You can hear the sound of rain pounding against your apartment roof, a steady rhythm in time with your slow breathing.

With a deep breath, you open your door and you’re met with the familiar, tall form of Zeffirelli. “I have an idea for the revolution,” he says, out of breath, soaked from the rain. “And I need your cinematic expertise.”

“So that’s why you’re at my apartment at three in the morning?” you ask, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Yes. And it’s only two,” he says as he brushes past you and goes straight to your tiny kitchen. Absentmindedly, he rifles through your counters and grabs the first food he finds; some untrustworthy brown biscuits. You don’t take any when he offers. “I needed to talk to you. Son affaire sérieuse.”

“Right, I’m sure it is. Tell me, what exactly do you need my help with? I’m not sure I can be of much help.” You shuffle into the kitchen and put a kettle on the stove, accepting the fact that you’re probably not going to get any sleep tonight.

“Absurdité. Who else is going to shut down my best ideas ruthlessly?”

“I would do that in daylight too,” you accuse. He fits beside you at your counter and reaches across you for the sugar bowl, taking a sugar cube and putting it in your cup. Two more are added to the cup that he’s claimed as his own from your array of delicately painted teacups.

“But you admit to having shut down good ideas?” A twinkle in his eyes tells you to give up now and accept your defeat.

“Sure.” It’s worth it to see the victory smile break across his face, his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth. “I am obviously the bane of your existence. Je suis ta couverture mouillée.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself.” His consolidation is quick and filled with a teasing lightness that you’ve long since accepted as his trademark. A lot of people would look past him for it, and call it arrogance, but you know it comes from a loving place.

“Don’t make me send you to Mitch Mitch’s apartment instead,” you warn, waving a spoon in his direction. “I would do it in a heartbeat.” It’s not true, you would much rather he be here with you, instead of at Mitch’s. Despite the entertainment that comes with Zefirelli and Mitch’s back and forth, you’re feeling selfish tonight.

“Empty threats.” he tisks. The kettle whistles from its spot on the stove and you both reach for it at the same time, your fingers brushing against his. It’s terrifyingly electric, but you push past the feeling. Zefirelli withdraws his hand hesitantly and you busy yourself with pouring the tea.

He’s come over in the middle of the night enough for you to know how he takes his tea by heart. Two heaping spoonfuls of sugar, no more, no less. He claims that you make it better than he does, which you choke up to him being unable to boil water without making a mess.

Clearing your throat, you ask, “So, what’s this big idea? Care to fill me in on why I’m awake at this time of the night.”

“What’s your movie about?” he fires back immediately, settling into your beaten blue couch.

“Did you come here to pester me about my future?” you ask, eyes narrowed. “Because I will kick you to the curb.”

“No, no,” he laughs, “you wouldn’t do that to me. You have no resistance to my pretty face.”

“Ah, yes, you’ve figured out my one weakness. It seems as though you’ll be taking advantage of it forever.”

“Of course, ensoleillement. What would I do if I didn’t have you to manipulate?” He sits across from you on the couch and grabs one of the blankets you have thrown around. It goes over his shoulders and he huddles into its warmth.

“So what did you come here to talk about?” you ask, taking a sip from your tea and placing it on the side table.

“Oh, right!” His eyes light up as he sits up straighter, splashing tea all over himself. Luckily, he doesn’t seem to care very much. “I thought that I would have my mother’s friend, some writer, is coming into town soon. I was thinking that I should ask her to help me. At the least, she can write about us, no? What do you think?”

“I think it’s a great idea. What does she write for?”

“The French Dispatch. You know, the one with all the stories they put out once a month or so. I hear that she’s looking for something out here in our petite ville.”

The conversation shifts and he talks about his big ideas and how he’s going to get them done. You could listen to him talk for hours, and, by the time he’s finished, you have, not that you have anything better to do. Not even dreams of him are this real. You could never make up in your mind the way his eyes sparkle and his hands flutter with excitement, or the way his hair falls in front of his face when he’s moving too fast.

Eventually, sleep takes him over, comically mid-sentence. He’s propped up against the side of the couch in a very uncomfortable looking way, but he doesn’t seem to mind. You’ve known him to fall asleep in worse situations,

When his breathing stills and his eyes close, you allow yourself to look at him as he is without fluttering hands and excited eyes. He’s calm and motionless, except for the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Everything about him is usually coiled for action, an easy tension running through his hands and his eyes, but now, now he’s undistributed and serene, laying with his hair splayed like a dark halo around his head.

Before you close your eyes, you tuck yourself close to him, fitting against his warmth like you’ve done so many times in the past, just like this, on deep-silence-ridden nights.

“You’re my movie,” you whisper into the dark, towards his sleeping figure. “You’re the one I write about.”

But of course, he doesn’t hear.

“Medre,” Zeffirelli swears, hopping around and trying to get his shoes on. “I have a test today.”

“You should have thought of that before you came over that early,” you admonish, watching him with amusement. “Why you didn’t think you would oversleep, I have no clue.”

“We’re in this class together, ensoleillement. You’re going to burn with me,” he warns, rushing a hand through his hair carelessly. It sticks up widely in every direction, but you know better than to try to fix it. Nothing can convince his hair to do anything except chaos.

“Yeah, but it’s so much more fun not to think about that.” Begrudgingly, you start to get ready as well. The floors creak under your feet as you shuffle to your bedroom, where a clean outfit is nowhere to be found.

For a moment, you let yourself think of the wild-haired, cigarette-smoking, arrogant person in the room next to you. His infuriating charm and charismatic persuasion captured you years ago, and you haven’t been able to get out of his orbit since then.

You may be his sunshine, but he’s your gravity, keeping you centered but tipping you over and surprising you at times.

“Dépêchez-vous,” Zeffirelli calls, rapping his knuckles against the wall. “Hurry up.” You know he doesn’t really care about making it to class on time, despite the panic, but you also know that he understands you well enough to know that you want to make it on time.

The film class you have this morning is one of your favorites, and you try and avoid missing it as much as you can. While your film studies class is more focused on the aspects of film, this class advises it’s students on the writing and cinematography that you need to make something truly special.

To make something worthy of a manifesto.

“Mon chéri, we have to go,” Zefirelli warns one last time before giving up and aimlessly wondering around your room.

“Don’t touch that,” you sigh, not having to look at Zeffirelli to know that he’s touching something he shouldn’t be touching. When you do look over, you see him flipping through your journal.

“I wasn’t doing anything,” Zeffirelli defends, hiding something behind his back. You send a glare in his direction and lean back in the chair by your mirror. The wood creaks underneath you and you stretch out your back, satisfying pops cascading up your spine.

“You have some deep dark secrets written in here?” His tone is joking, and he waves the journal in the air, taunting you.

“Grocery lists and middle-of-the-night thoughts,” you dismiss. “If you want to know when I forgot to pay the electricity bill, look on the fifth page.” You hope with everything you have that he’s going to let it go, but you have no such luck. He’s nothing if not absurdly relentless.

“I know for a fact that you don’t write anything like that down, it’s not worth the time. You just forget things like the rest of us.”

“Peut être. Still, put it down.” He doesn’t. Instead, he keeps reading with a grin on his face that slowly falls as he makes his way through the rest of the book.

“Is this- is this written about me?” he asks, disbelief written on his face. “Is this your movie?”

“I asked you to stop reading,” you defend miserably, hiding your head in your hands. “I know it’s strange, and I know I shouldn’t be writing about you like that. You don’t want to be heroic or some great leader, above everyone else, but I cannot help it if that’s who you are. Please understand, I only wrote what I saw.”

“I’m your movie? I’m what you have been furiously scribbling away at, working on late at night?”

“You’re my everything,” you admit honestly, softly, “How could you not be the plot of my movie too?” Zeffirelli walks slowly towards you and drops the journal on the floor. “I’m sorry, Zeffirelli.”

“Why?” he asks breathlessly, standing in between your legs and settling his hands on your shoulders. “What have you to be sorry for? You have immortalized be forever with your words. How can I be anything but grateful. If- if I ever gave you the idea that I do not burn for you- that I do not turn towards you in every room like you are the sun and I am a flower, then I can do nothing but apologize profusely. There is more than one reason that you are my ensoleillement. You are grumpy and rude and you give me shit for everything I do, but you also light up my days and nights. You are warmth and home. You are everything.” Zeffirelli’s voice is breathless and rushed, his hands coming up to cup your face. They’re shaky and the calluses on his fingertips are rough against your cheekbones, but you lean into them anyway.

“Zef,” you whisper, like it’s the only word you know. Just as soft as his words, his lips come down to yours, hesitantly at first, but more sure as you don’t protest.

He truly is your everything. That’s the only thing running through your mind as he kisses you with everything he has.

“We’re going to be late to your favorite class,” he gasps in between frantic kisses. “Don’t be angry at me when you have extra homework.”

“I make no promises,” you laugh, pulling him back into you. “But I’ll try my best.” For him, you’ll do anything.

He’s your ensoleillement, your sunshine, just as you’re his.

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psychicpanic · 28 days

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different anon but re: starseeds and the far right - ufo culture is tied to white supremacist and far right thinking because it hinges on the idea that there are 'others among us' who are not human in the same way and on the different spiritual 'values' of people. starseeds and the associated theories specifically have been used by white new age groups to separate themselves from others and be 'special' and a higher status of being like other rebirth or ufo-theosophical cult theory. it goes deep and i won't talk too much in one singular anon this i'm sure will be a long read anyway, but it originates in biological racism in the form of theoretical evolutionary subraces of people (lemurian, aryan, atlantean). that subrace talk leads into aryan theory which, bluntly, is the same 'aryan' as in the nazi rhetoric. nazism which then ties into the idea of ancient aliens/astronauts and more-less advanced 'subcategories' of humans; ancient astronauts was popularised as a theory by a man working with a former editor for a nazi newspaper (erich von däniken and utz utermann) to publish one of the first major books on the subject. ufo theosophy also speaks regularly about indigo children; adhd notoriously has been brushed off by parents as a child being 'indigo' as a way not to deal with it. indigo children and starseeds are the same, conceptually. they're sister theorums. all of the above are common features of a new age -> far right Qanon pipeline used to propagate white supremacist thinking. cults like ots, the seekers, and qanon are spirals branching from this kind of new age spirituality and rely on starseed/ufo theosophy. you can verify all of this. i hope none of this comes across patronising or belittling. i agree with the other anon in that you seem very well-meaning and sweet. i don't say any of this trying to make you feel any way. i don't know if the other anon has spoken more to you about it yet. i would be very careful about engaging with this kind of new age theosophy though. i'm sorry this got so incredibly long as well. tl;dr - starseeds are born from ufo theosophical occulture, which has many hands in white supremacist cults like qanon who engage with the other facets of the same theosophy, like ancient aliens and lizard people infiltrators.

hi anon thanks so much for this!! ik this is a lot and i appreciate you taking the time out of your day to inform me. it doesn’t feel patronizing or belittling at all 🫂

i was aware of the racist r*ptillian conspiracy (i wish i had better words to refer to it but yeah), the ableism of indigo / crystal / rainbow children, etc but was unaware of some information u told me. again, 95% of the information i receive and trust is from the trusted ladies at moondancemagik.com, from the book The Ra Material, and readings i receive (which i rarely get anyway).

since the only information i really consume is from the spirit workers, i was under the impression that the word ‘starseed’ was another word for ‘alien’. (i stay away from ‘you are an indigo / crystal child’ comments and ‘you are a x ‘starseed’’ comments (‘starseed’ referring to your current body)). i still believe aliens exist, but im not really keen on anything besides that. from now on when i refer to aliens (because i really do believe some exist) i will just refer to them as ‘aliens’. aliens to me j means life from a different star or planet. i hope there’s nothing wrong with that. there really are no strings attached to any conspiracies or anything. if there is a problem with it please rlly let me know.

i was unfortunately part of a cult for over a year that almost killed me, so now i am very careful of following or being any part of any other new age ideologies and stuff. i am sooo over them and think they are ridiculous.

i hope i covered everything, im really sorry for the trouble and i really didn’t mean any at all. i will keep this anon forever to look back on 🫂 thanks so much

#ask

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mindrole · 5 months

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Yo, I somewhat lurk your blog because you make very fun and interesting posts!! Your takes are nice to read and your art is very nice; I simply avoid to reblog because I had this...vibe? I guess? That you wanted your posts to remain a little more hidden away.

That doesn't change the fact that I surely can't be the only one who lurks but certainly loves your work!!!

first of all, thank you for the kind words!!

tbh i kind of just rattled the post off and went to do stuff so i forgot about it, i didn't expect a response, so im super flattered!! (and a little embarassed, perhaps bashful)

its quite kind of you to send this...

the issue of reblogs: i dont mind at all!! as you may have noticed there are two or three posts i have locked reblogs for.. those are obviously NG (mostly either "my interpretation changed drastically so im disowning it" or "ill go back and fix it (<-art)") but everything else is A-OK ❤️ if i don't want something to be reblogged i will lock it. (usually i will leave in the tags or edit the post with the reason)

i love when my stuff is shared around!! and getting nice nonnies like you is always a lot of fun. to be honest i think because those dried up for a while i got a stir crazy

really i'm like, a very sociable person, i like to bounce ideas off of others even if its indirect and even i get really neurotic about stuff. so i read every tag and interaction with a big goofy smile on my face. i like feeling seen, and most people would not disagree that it's nice. so it's like this... i am... a huge geek

i want to be less sheepish about posting in the main tag too. the initial bad experience i had (and caused myself, i don't wanna deny that) can't really be helped anymore, but eventually i wanna be brave about it. i wanna shake off the weird mindset of "i've already ruined my shot so i should stop posting in the tag, everyone probably already has a big ❌️ on me anyway." (if someone doesn't want to see my stuff they probably already have me blocked... so its fine!!! or they can just scroll past. im not taking up any space i shouldn't. i have to learn this!!!)

there are a lot of things i don't tag because either i'm afraid my sense of humor is too esoteric and/or mean spirited or because it is a junk doodle (not in a self deprecating way, its just not something i wanna put in the tag). also cuz i post a lot, it is kind of spam-y. recently i got an ask asking why i hate httr... of course i don't!!! but i love making fun of that baby man so much. so im also wary of maybe, i might upset someone without that context and they think i'm openly posting character hate. that kind of thing, i worry TOO much

(don't worry, that ask was really funny, even if it scrambled my brain a bit)

i think a lot of people who might enjoy the blog also may bounce after reading my pinned and seeing that i don't tag spoilers. that's ok, i hope someone translates the interlude soon because somehow even in its short duration i love it a lot. com is coming out soon too!!! eventually the stock of those characters will rise and they will gain more fans and they will come across my blog and go, woah, this crazy person drew so much art prerelease!!!!. azuma's stock... will also rise!!!

at the end of the day my philosophy is that fan works are things we share out of love and passion, loving the works of others and making are like a symbiotic relationship, one cannot exist without the other. seeing other people's stuff makes me wanna make too. that kind of thing. this applies to both fan work and original work actually.

sorry you got subjected to my mentally ill ramble... im really thankful to have gotten this ask genuinely.. it super made my day

i hope you continue to enjoy the blog ^^

#ask #anonymous #sorry i talked your ear off #i think i really am hormonal right now you know how it is

0 notes

baldursgrape · 5 months

Note

respectfully, I think that post about Bin Laden is one of those posts that looks rhetorically convincing but is... bad? it reads very similarly to those right wing "I'm an anti-feminist because so many people told me some benign behaviour was misogynistic and I gave up" posts. people should be able to know and recognise and care about common antisemitic rhetoric *before* "the waters get muddied" by defensiveness from Israeli politicians, you know? I hope that makes sense, and that thus comes across in the spirit it's intended!

hey, i shouldnt be responding to this now because im very feverish and stupid but to be quite honest i dont exactly know what you mean by this. frankly i think! i agree with your point overall from what i understand. and perhaps its really sad to say but i have almost completely given up on people being able to recognize antisemitic rhetoric no matter how explicit it actually is. even in non-crisis periods i think most people dont have the most basic idea of what antisemitism is

i guess i didnt read the original post as saying that you can't interpret any of the discourse around israel-palestine as antisemitic, just that there is some how do you say psy-oppy stuff . like i think!! i get what you're saying but compared to feminism, the tenants of which are pretty well discussed and understood in the west, most people don't have the first fucking idea of what it means to combat antisemitism and there is actually probably some genuine confusion about it. i dont know, maybe im giving too much benefit of the doubt to people from whom more should be expected but thats my take on things and im sorry if i sound genuinely lobotomized

anyway thanks for reaching out, im sorry if i totally misinterpreted what you were trying to say but i appreciate you sharing your opinion

#i think i may have misread the original post tbh as well but i do think it has some good points upon rereading so im going to leave it up #sometimes i do feel like we have to kowtow a little bit you know. in my heart im uncompromising #but on this issue in particular ive learned this is not a very productive strategy

0 notes

has-gilgamesh-doneanythingwrong · 2 years

Note

Hello Sehai-Kun Can I please have some NSFW head cannons for Mori with a female master. Mori doesn't strike me as a dom or a sub tbh he seems like he'd be down for whatever his partner wants

Hello, thank you for the ask; Macha Anon! 🍵 As this is my first ever NSFW request, I'm extremely excited to write it. (i am a bit of a nsfw newbie writer though so please do bear with me.)

I understand, I shall ensure that he will not be too submissive nor dominant in these headcanons. I kinda agree, seeing as he's such a devoted character, he probably would prioritise master's enjoyment within the bedroom. (thanks for adding further details to the ask as well, it helped greatly!)

im so sorry if these are a bit awkward lmao

WARNING: 18+ ADULTS ONLY CONTENT

Mori Nagayoshi x Female Master (NSFW Headcanons)

❀ Although he's a little clunky, and awkward around the edges; one thing is extremely clear- Mori Nagayoshi is the kind of partner who would devotedly serve you in the bedroom; doing his utmost to satiate your every need.

❀ Though he's not too sure about certain things, he's got the spirit; so don't be afraid to tell him what you want! (though a little patience may be needed). As he wants to ensure you a good time, he'll greatly appreciate it if you're open and vocal with him.

❀ You're his first priority tonight.

❀ Putting your needs above his own, he vows to guarantee you the best time you'll ever have.

❀ Kisses with him are full of excitement and passion, his tongue eagerly exploring every inch of your body; softly nipping and licking at your sensitive spots. Like a warrior endeavoring to uncover all of the weak spots of their opponent in battle, his aim is perfect; evoking all sorts of moans from you. Acting as the perfect balance between gentle yet rough, his kisses are addictive.

❀ Sucking passionately at your neck, thighs, under your chest...he leaves you with a blossoming canopy of love bites, possessively marking your skin with his desire. However, if you're to return the favor; he positively glimmers with ardor in such an obvious display of affection.

❀ Want to touch his chest? Sure, he'll definitely let you! As you brush your hands through his firm yet tantalizingly soft chest, he laughs- though his breath finally hitches in his throat as you softly massage his nipples with those gentle kisses of yours. He finds it utterly adorable to watch, and is filled with a thrilling sense of exhilaration as you adorn his body with touches that he'll never forget.

❀ It's bound to be a fiery, sweaty night, as your bodies wildly coil around one another; his hands trailing tantalizing lines across your skin. He wants to touch you everywhere. With every touch, he proudly praises you, basking in the pleasure of your reactions.

❀ You're his beloved master, his exceptional lord. Cool breath fanning your ears, he whispers words of fealty towards you; proudly delighting in your passionate cries.

❀ Eager to please, he'll ask to see if he's doing the right thing, or if everything's okay. Though he's having a great time, he's taking you seriously as well.

❀ With an accuracy powerful enough to put even the most skilled of marksmen to shame, his tongue dances around your core with fervent lust; egged on by the comforting feeling of your legs wrapping around his head, the pressure and warmth driving him to the absolute brink! Applying a little more pleasure to him awakens his competitive spirit, anticipating just how hard his licks will make you squeeze.

❀ The more you scream in pleasure, as your soul broils with affection; the more he caresses your core; driving you into a rampant frenzy. As you come, he devours it all, mischievously indulging in your essence.

❀ Has he done well? Has he done a good job? Tell him, he wants- no, needs- to hear it. Your praise means the world to him- and turns him on greatly, as well.

❀ The way in which your back arches with adulation at his touch, how you'd yell his name...it fills him with so much pride to see you call for him so freely. He loves it. Hoping to evoke even more of a reaction, he begins to rub his cock against your thighs, delighting in the waves of luscious pleasure it evokes from inside of him.

❀ As he's not too knowledgeable about the ways of lube and the condom, you offer to do it for him; his eyes misting with lust as you put them on him. Watching your now-slippery hands voraciously stroking his cock leaves him unbearably hard.

❀ A strong desire ripples through him as the feelings darting around his mind finally concentrate onto one goal- he wants you. To feel you, make love to you...and reduce you to a mess.

❀ As your legs fasten themselves around him, as your hands affectionately tousle his vermillion red locks, his only eye softens with warmth; only then for him to descend into a passionate mode; cock thrusting into you at a speed that is gentle enough to care for your needs; but also wild enough to drench you both within an intense heat.

❀ As the two of you continue to thrust against one another, passionately displaying your affection; he grins, indulging in every moment. Though he also likes to have sex from behind as well, nothing quite beats seeing the pleasure dusted across your face, as your eyes brim with emotion; the two of you loudly yelling one another's names.

❀ With a ridiculously large stamina and voracious appetite to please you in as many ways as he possibly can, be prepared for multiple rounds of sex; each one much sweatier and messier than the last. As his hips buck into yours, hands placed comfortingly on your waist; he goes at you with a pace that'll make you lose your mind- with only his strong chest serving as a pillar to keep you upright.

❀ He loves it when things get messy, when the two of you go past the point of caring about anything else other than the experience you share together. Such a moment of vulnerability endears you to him as a special individual.

❀ By the time things are over, it's already dawn; both of your bodies messily tangled within one another's, passionately embracing. As he cradles your face as his hands delicately thumb your lips, he smiles, pointy teeth glinting brightly within the sun's rays.

"It's my duty as your retainer to serve you with all my heart and body...but damn, it sure as hell felt good, being with you like that...I really like you, master. I'll serve you until the day this very body is ripped apart! HAHAHA!!"

#asks #anon #mori nagayoshi #fate series #fgo #gilgablog #gilgawriting #fgo headcaons #YO THIS IS WAY TOO DETAILED! HAHA OH SHIT

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murderousginger · 3 years

Text

Demons & Angels

Warnings: Menton of drug use. Smutty sexy things. They're criminals, guys, they do bad things.

Word count: 2211

Song here

(gif by @nofckingfighting)

You worked yourself up all afternoon to show up at his door. You'd had enough of Tommy Shelby and his attitude. You were sick of him brushing off your ideas, keeping you in the dark except for your small part in whatever plan he had. You were tired of hunting him down to speak to him and his words always being so clipped with you. He kept you at a distance, careful to not touch you as if dealing with a leper.

He might be the devil of Small Heath but you thought you had been friends well enough for him to spare you a look, a thought, a smirk. Something. And so you were on his doorstep that night, late enough to ensure he was home, knocking so rapidly that you almost knocked Finn in the head when he cracked the door open. Your anger waffled as Finn looked at you.

"Oh, sorry Finn," you say as you look to your feet.

"Why are you knocking like a copper this late, (Y/N)?" He asks, wide-eyed. "Arthur was 'bout ready to blow the door out."

"Sorry, I just wanted to talk to Tommy," you say, looking anywhere but at the child in front of you. "Is he home? Can I speak with him?"

A large hand grips the door above Finn's head and pulls the door wider. Arthur sticks his head out, scowling.

"Fuckin' hell, (Y/N)," he barks. "Why are you here at this hour? I nearly blew your head off. Come in, come in."

They both retreat and you come in, closing the door behind you. Finn is dressed for bed already and Arthur is half dressed, his shirt half buttoned, as if he was just about to sink into sleep himself.

"I came to talk to Tom," you say, regaining your conviction.

"At this hour?" Arthur squints. "He doesn't know you're coming, does he?"

You shake your head as you clasp your hands together.

"No, but-"

"This can't wait till mornin'?" He scratches the back of his head. "It's late, love, and I'm sure any business--"

"It's not business and I'm not leaving without talking to Tommy," you raise your voice a little, panic lacing through your tone as you realize you might not be allowed to see him. You'll lose steam by morning, unable to meet his eyes and tell him how you feel.

Arthur nods, his head down as he pauses before he looks back to meet your eyes, his voice calmer, softer.

"Right then," he nods to Finn, "you, off to bed. Now."

Finn does as he's told, eyes wide.

"Right," Arthur clears his throat. "Right. Well. Something I need to tell you first, right, is that Tom's…"

He trails off, his hand waving as if to catch words in the air to fill his mouth.

"Tom's not himself right now," he says finally, meeting your eye as if to push the meaning into your head.

"Not himself?" You repeat, dropping your chin to your chest.

"Yuh," he said, nodding more vigorously as you catch his words. "He's more, y'know, calm… right now. He's had a bit of opium to sleep and he might not be in full form."

"Opium?" You frown. "Why's--"

"He takes it to sleep," Arthur says as he shuffles in place. "He don't talk about it much. I think you'd be alright."

He squints as he smooths his mustache down.

"A woman shouldn't set 'im off like I do," he mutters to himself. "Come'n, love, I'll show you his door."

Arthur walks to the stairs and goes up them before you find your feet and follow, more questions than answers from the interaction. You both stop at the first closed door at the top of the stairs, and Arthur points to it as he steps away from it.

"He's just there," he said, continuing his walk down the hall. "Wait 'til I'm out of sight, or I'll set him off, and we don't want fuckin' war flashbacks tonight, love."

Your eyes widened as your hand froze over the doorknob.

"Just be easy," Arthur said, his hands gesturing wildly. "It's all a bit of a dream to him right now."

Arthur disappeared into his room as you stared at the door, uncertainty tainting your anger. You were used to unaffected, strong, stubborn Tommy Shelby. Who would this man be behind the door?

You finally took a deep breath and turned the knob, moving into a room of heavy sour smoke. It tickled your nose as you looked at the mostly bare walls. The only furniture was a wooden chair, an end table, and the small bed that Tommy Shelby lay across as he contemplated the ceiling as if you weren't there.

You closed the door, fidgeting as you sank into the wooden chair.

"Tommy?" You call, hoping it would snap him out of whatever was happening.

He frowns as he turns to you, scrutinizing you before he looks back to the ceiling.

"That's new," he says to himself with a shrug. "I suppose she's been on my mind but it's not normal to conjure."

"Conjure?" You ask, lost in his words.

"I see spirits, love," he says. "Not the living. You can be off now."

His words brush you off like a maid and rekindles your resolve.

"Why have you been pushing me away?" You ask as you sit on his bed near his feet with your arm propping yourself up as you watch him. He took a deep breath.

"Do you think I tell people things?"

He stayed still, a picture of calm waters, as he laid on his bed with his hands behind his head as he stared at the ceiling.

"And I do?"

"You're telling me now."

"No," you sputter, "I'm asking a question."

"People don't ask questions about things they have no care for."

"Have you always been this obstinate, Tommy Shelby?" You shake your head as you look to the ceiling.

A heavy silence fills the room as you both stare above to the blank ceiling. You fall into your head, the dark corners that you retreat to when you can't quite grasp those around you, and you start to shuffle through the worst explanations to fill the silence. This was a terrible idea. I'm a fool.

"I am cursed," he said, breaking you from your thoughts. "Everything I touch gets tainted. Broken."

You soften as you look over, your mouth shut in fear a response would silence him. His face is pinched, his eyes searching above him, as if he can't find the words. There's never the right words.

"You fit," he said. "You don't flinch at the violence. You don't flinch at the business. You've never given me the look."

He stops, finally looking down to his feet to look over you, through you. His eyes cover your every curve and he gives a slight nod before he looks back up to the ceiling.

"The look?" You whisper, afraid that anything louder would stop him, take him out of whatever trance had him. Whatever the opium opened in his head.

"Disgust," he said. "Fear. Loathing. You've never stopped looking at me like I'm just a man."

"You've never been anything else to me, Tommy," you say as his face drops, his blue eyes melt over you like clear skies.

"I am to everyone else," he lowed.

"Should I be afraid of Thomas Shelby, Devil of Small Heath?" Your eyebrow quirked up involuntarily, taunt thick in the air.

He smiled at his epithet on your lips, the words rolling out of your mouth. They didn't have the usual feelings behind them that he had grown used to. You knew the answer before you asked and nothing would change your certainty.

"I think I'm in love with you."

He says it like he isn't there, like his words aren't really attached and settling into the world around him. It just tumbles out of his mouth without thought. He mulls the words over once they're in the air as if he hadn't actually considered it before that moment.

Your heart catches in your throat, expanding, exploding in your chest. He looks down to you, mouth slightly parted as he looks over you again, his words settling into his brain.

"Odd," he says, watching you frozen in place as he sits up. "I've never placed that thought. But that would be why you're here now, innit? You've been in the back of my brain so long you've appeared. The opium conjures what I reject."

"Why reject me, Tom, when I've always been by your side?"

"Why poison the only good?" He breathes out. "I'm done with this talk. You're like a mirage, if I touch you, you're gone."

You sit frozen as he cocks his head and reaches out as if to move a curtain away. His fingers ghost over your lips as his mouth slacks and his eyes flare. Shock and anger fight over his features like lightning in a summer thunderstorm.

"I'm not disappearing, Tom," you whisper against his fingertips. "The opium didn't conjure me. You touched me and I'm still here, unbroken."

"Fuck."

It's all he uttered. Sharp. Succinct. He pulls his hand back as if he burnt himself on you.

"Kiss me."

He buries his face in his hand, muttering nonsense to himself.

"I'm telling you I feel the same," you rasp, your heart fluttering as the words fill you with a jolt of fear. "You can't confess your feelings and refuse to kiss me."

"I'm afraid to kiss you," he breaths out, flustered by his own words. His hand wipes his mouth and shakily hangs in his lap.

"Why?"

"Because if I start I don't know if I can stop."

"Who says I want you to?"

Tommy hesitates but his hand finds your cheek, his thumb brushing it softly. Your hand finds the base of his neck and you pull him to you, your kiss hungry. Tommy matches your passion, his hesitation dripping away in the flames as you taste the whiskey on his tongue and a sour taste you can smell in the air around you. You breath out a soft moan as he bites your lip and his hands cup your face as his kisses move across your jaw.

"That sound," he growls as he pulls you into his lap, "I'll spend forever in that noise."

You chuckle, but your breath hitches as he kisses the soft spot on your neck. You wrap your arms around him and squirm in his lap. His teeth rake the spot and you're seeing stars, fucking planets orbiting your head. You moan louder and he growls into your skin, ripples of pleasure shooting down your spine.

"You like that," he says like it's fact, and it is. Oh, it is.

Your dress is over your head before you realize, only the cool air causing goosebumps across your flesh makes you register it's disappearance. He presses you back, pulling you both backward before his hand finds your chest and he lays you flat on your back.

"Hell is the absence of that noise you make," Tommy mumbles as his hands run along your legs and his nose tickles your thighs.

He searches, tests you, settles there as if he's willing to do anything to keep that noise in his head. You moan lightly when he touches the right spot and grow louder as he dives in, his hands pressing into your skin harder as your body wriggles from the intensity of the feelings he gives you. He hums as you arch your back against the bed.

You hiss, bringing your hand to your mouth to bite as you push against him. There are other people in the house and you can't yell the house down. You look down to see the crinkle of amusement around his eyes and his hand reaches to pull yours from your mouth.

"Your brothers are in the house, Tommy," you whine, fighting to keep your voice down as your eyes roll back.

"They've heard worse, love," he said as he climbs your body, his words growling down your ear. "But I've never heard something so sweet. Moan my name again."

He got his way. Tommy Shelby always got his way.

When both of you collapse together, breathing hard in each other's arms, Tommy pulls you close to his chest.

"I broke my rule for you," he says as he kisses the top of your head.

"Tommy Shelby has rules?" You twist to look up at him. "I always thought you look at rules and pass them by."

"I am selective with which ones I follow," he says as he pulls your lips to his. "I just have the one I've never broken."

"And that is?" You smile lazily, tired and enjoying his touch.

"Don't endanger the innocent."

Your brows knot together as you open your mouth to protest.

"My hands on your skin put you in danger," he says before you can speak. "I've put a target on your back with my bloody hands."

You kiss him slow and soft.

"Well," you say as you pull back. "I guess the devil of Small Heath will just have to protect me, then."

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #peaky blinder fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #storytime with murderousginger #promptmurderousginger

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go-learn-esperanto · 2 years

Text

Survey answers until now:

This was so fun. There are a lot of answers and that's pretty pog! I'm not gonna include everyone but I assure you I've been reading all of them.

Edit: the resolution was awful. Sorry about that. Updated version now! :)

Now the text answers my beloved <3

Here are some of my favourites!

Mumza. On accident.

How do you cosplay on accident? 👁️👁️

Phil and say it's Urahara

200 IQ play right here

none but i wanted to tell you its not much better. im going as a Supernatural character smh

We really are on Tumblr.com

im doing rivals duo with my friend =]

cc!Ranboo basically. now it just sounds weird. I mean who dresses up as irl celebrities and not the roles they play? man. it just sounds cringe now

I'm gonna throw on a green hoodie, say I'm dream and call it a day B)

Put a plastic plate on it too and it's complete

I have a half-made Ranboo cosplay, but I'm also too old lol

DO IT. I don't care. Even if it's just for you to wear at home. Do it. Nobody it's too old to dress as things they like!

tubbo :D (not 2 self promo but ill be posting pics @starbug.png on insta 👀)

Check them out! :)

There's a bunch of Wilbur/Ghostbur cosplayers. I love you and the Grisn cosplayer very parasocially.

Also the Mumza cosplayers

I got my ex into mcyt a day or so before we broke up because he started to ignore me > - >

Well... That's.

Figured out one of my besties is into it bc I saw a sketch of the Llama Line by L'Targay

One of my irl friends is an OG dsmp fan, she was there the very first stream. It’s just fun to talk to her about stuff.

A group of 17 year old boys called me cringe at the publix selfcheckout bc of my quackity shirt and i laughed so hard that they got confused like. its not bullying if theyre right

This one. This one has to be my favourite. That's the spirit.

There is a girl in my class who I talked to very little. We were supposed to do an assignment based on a hobby we liked, so I chose MINECRFAT. After I presented this, she approached me after class and said she liked my presentation. She showed me some of her dsmp drawings, like the realistic ones based off photos. She fucking amazing at it and they’re incredible

i was having a rlly bad day at school and in maths class(my last hour of the day)my teacher started playing jump in the cadillac and i just started crying

I really don't want to laugh at your suffering but damn that's hilarious from the outside. I hope you're doing better now tho 💜

i showed my mom a ranboo video and accidentally reviled that i stole almost his every one of his speech patterns

In class, a guy compliments my Ranboo hoodie. I look at his hoodie and he’s wearing a Wilbur one. I compliment his as well. A girl nearby stands up and looks at us. She is wearing a Quackity hoodie. Somehow the universe has placed three Dream SMP fans together in the same class. The best part is you would never know we were fans without our merch. We could be anyone. We walk amongst the living

That makes me want to buy merch so bad

last night I wrote penis smp fanfic while sitting right next to my mom who doesn't think I swear. she could have looked at my screen at any time.

Asked “does a historical speech from a minecraft roleplay count?” For a kinetic typography assignment

Wrote a lyrical analysis on the l’manburg theme for a school project

the reason i didn't answer "mumbo jumbo" to the philza's wife question is because mumbo jumbo is too busy being a gay whore in last life. he's gay married but also flirts with every man he comes across

True. Absolutely true.

I literally saw an anti vaxxer on tumblr talking about how it's bad that Tommy and tubbo have to get vaccinated just to see each other irl

!! i have a VERY IMPORTANT FACT: niki nihachu <3 also dsmp women in general,, hannah niki puffy tina collab when pls give it to me its all i want in life,,,,,, also unrelated but im in a musicy mood listen to romance by yoasobi and watch the video trust me its stunning :]

Watched it! Really cool visuals! The music just brings me back to my VOCALOID fandom fase (not that is possible to love the VOCALOID fandom completly though. I definitely haven't.)

I’m making a Wilbur soot animatic based on The Fall by lovejoy and I hope I can get it finished by the 16th !!

Good luck!!! That's awesome!

im in this hellhole more than 1 year how am i still alive akpqpqlajwhoq give money

I have exactly one irl friend who watches dsmp n I'm the one who got her into it >:]

Evil >:]

"Im not gay I just can't read" - Jack Manifold

i just want to know why ranboo was at the red banquet, dressed up and wearing a blindfold . w h y

i can't wait for big lore to come back djfjdkkf

Same

Why must life give its hardest battles to its weakest warriors

Sun Tzu, The Art of War

Please help okay so the problem is "Let P be the set of all people who have ever lived and define a relation R on P as follows: for every r and s that are elements or P, rRs <-> r is an ancestor of s or r =s. Is R a partial order relation? Prove or give a counter example." It's definitely reflexive ince when s=r then s=r which is true. It isn't symmetrical since that would be weird as hell, I mean a grandparent cannot be the grandchild of their own grandchild that would fuck up the family tree even more than the DSMPs but like, how do I prove that mathematically? Like, if rRs and sRr then r = s but "if person A is either a grandparent or the same person as person B and person B is either the grandparent or the same person as person A then person A is person B" just feels like a weird sentence.

Just did the Komaeda checklist for c!Wilbur...

I don't wanna know. (I kinda do actually)

Catch me dual-wielding Hermitcraft and the Dream SMP… call me Hannah Montana cause I’m the best of both worlds

Same. Same. Call me Ariana Griande because I'm a-grian with you.

i just saw a post. soon, we will have enough tommy father figures for a mamma mia! au.

Months before I got into DSMP I had an internet friend interested in it and I was like "lol, nice, but could never be me" because I had gotten out of my 2016-2018 MCYT phase not that long ago at that point and didn't think I'd go back... Well...

ldshadowlady is a goddess amongst us all and we should recognize her as such.

True

HMMM well i messed up my eyeliner which has made me quite sad

Mumbo Jumbo could steal anyone’s wife

I always talk about wanting to bake bread again but I keep procrastinating. Same goes for writing fanfiction and stuff too. I have countless abandoned fics across all of the platforms I'm on, plus about ten that never made it out of Google docs or pure writer. I think I have a bit of a problem lol

I can assure you're not the only one. 👁️👄👁️

We all suffer from the procrastination problem. Don't put yourself down too much ok? You're doing that for yourself and if you don't feel like doing it then you don't feel like doing it. 💜

Wilbur with wings is unappreciated especially when you consider all the cool headcanons you can have for what they'd be like after his revival like skeleton wings or phantom wings or only wings DreamXD can see. Also ghostbur w/ blue melting/ evaporating wings *longing sigh*

That's pretty cool!

I figured out I was fine with any pronouns by brainstorming self insert dream smp fanfic

I have a huge crush on quackity

This one broke me and I don't know why. Every time I look at it I start laughing my ass off.

I got into it because of Woe to the People of Order

Oh, woe to thee, ye people of order

I hope your homes continue to smolder

And that you never rise again

And woe to those that called me a friend~

That's a badass way to join a fandom

I just miss Ghostbur man

Don't we all? (っ.❛ ᴗ ❛.)っ Have some blue

#mcyt #dream smp #dream smp survey #survey #mcytblr #There have been so many more between compiling all of this...#long post

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wreckofawriter · 5 years

Text

Games (soulmate au)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Word count: 2,382

Warnings: Making out?

Request: hi! It’s me again, could I request a Fred Weasley soulmate au? The type where their soulmates first word’s to them is tattooed on their body? Please make it fluffy and cute, thank you! :)

A/n: I am so sorry this was late. I had a grad party I forgot about! Also I'm probably going to have the other request out on Wednesday I'm so sorry but I have another grad party 2mmaro and I wont have time to write. Hope you guys like it!

The words in Fred's ankle had always been, well controversial at his household. His mother sure didn't like them. George thought they were hilarious. Ginny thought they were almost sad, sad that was how him and his soulmate would meet. Ron agreed with George, Percy thought they were ridiculous and his other brothers thoughts were pretty neutral. Fred simply thought they were odd. And as he looked down at the words, he couldn't help but smile, this was going to be one interesting person.

You snickered watching as your seeker checked his hair in the mirror again.

"You know Malfoy maybe if you spent less time putting grease in your hair and more time practicing then we would be winning for a change."

He whipped around glaring at you. "That's not very good team spirit y/l/n." He seethed.

"And since when are Slytherins known for their teamwork?"

He rolled his eyes and snatched his broom from the rack and joined the rest of the team in the horseshoe they had made around their captain.

You glanced around trying not to look as bored as you were. You have heard it a thousand times before; kick Gryffindors ass. Nothing new, except for the fact that your seeker was almost ok and theirs was amazing. Which meant it was basically up to you to score a shit ton of points before the snitch was caught. It was all quite stressful.

As you walked out onto the pitch you heard a mix of boos and cheers, the former as always, over powering the latter. You ignored the crowd and boarded your broom. You flew a couple feet in the air and waited for the whistle. When you took a deep breath and then sped upwards. If everything went right Montague should have the quaffle ready and waiting for you. And he did. You snatched the pass and made your way toward the goals where you could see Wood waiting.

You ducked under a bulger, dodged some girl in a red uniform and made for the large hoops. You reached for the quaffle tucked under your arms and shot it in the far left hoop. It soared through and you whipped around to get back to your position.

The game had been going for hours. It was hot and sunny and you had already ditched your outer layer. Currently you had scored 160 points, you were doing pretty well. All together your team had 210 points while Gryffindor was 50 points behind. Things were looking up.

You were headed towards the hoops once again the quaffle locked securely under your arm. You were about to shoot when out of nowhere something hit you straight in your side.

You dropped the quaffle and tipped off your broom with a scream. You managed to keep your feet wrapped around the handle and was hanging there attempting to reach your arms up. When you finally did, the pounding of your heart on your ears stopped and you could hear shrieking laughter.

You turned to see Fred Weasley pointing and laughing at you.

You flashed a brilliant shade of red before shouting, "If you don't shut up Weasley I'll shove that bat up your ass."

His smile dropped. A look of absolute astonishment replaced his joyful features. He felt his heart stop. You flew away with a scoff and an eye roll, you had no clue what you had just done to that boy.

For the rest of the match Fred could simply not focus. He hardly hit any blunders and most of them were completely off target. George scolded the boy and tried to get his head back in the game but it was helpless. He wanted to say something to you but what? What could he possibly say, "Oh hey what's up, your my soulmate by the way." It was all so stupid.

Gryffindor lost when Draco caught the snitch and Slytherin was celebrating in there locker room as Oliver almost killed Fred in their locker room.

"What the hell!" He yelled at the red head. "You couldn't hit a thing this whole match!"

"Look I'm sorry. I was distracted." Fred apologized.

Oliver didn't seem to care for his apologies at all. "You were doing fine." he sighed, "And then suddenly you knock y/l/n off her broom and you cant hit the broadside of a barn with a bludger."

"Look Wood, I'm sorry." Fred apologized again trying to make it sound sincere although his thoughts were elsewhere.

"What in Merlin's name could have made you so distracted any way Fred?"

Fred paused, the whole team was listening there was no way he was saying anything. "I just umm was?" He raised his eyebrows, hoping that his captain would buy it. Which of course he didn't.

"What eas it Weasley?" Oliver practically growled

Fred cast his gaze downwards trying to aviod eye contact with anyone.

"I swear to Merlin Wweasley if you don't tell me what gave Malfoy a free ride to the snitch I will-"

"She's my soulmate alright!?" Fred yelled his patients wore through.

"Wait, y/l/n is your soulmate?" It was George talking this time. His eyes were wide and mouth slightly agape, he was mimicking the rest of the team.

"Yeah." Fred looked down blushing a bit, he wasn't used to these situations. "But she doesnt know so don't tell her." He added quickly.

"Alright, sorry for laying into Fred." Oliver said.

"Its fine." He waved it off. He then turned to George panick in his eyes.

"How is she my soulmate?" Fred asked his twin desperate for an answer. They were now sitting in the Gryffindor common room eating candy they got from honeydukes.

"I don't know mate, but I wouldn't be too concerned. I mean she's hot." George pointed out, stuffing a chocolate frog in his mouth.

"Yeah but she’s Slytherin." Fred groaned.

"It probably won't be that bad Fred, you are destined to be together."

"How are we destined to be together? I mean we sure as hell aren't best buds." Fred said popping a fizzing whizbee in his mouth.

"So what," George started his voice muffled by chocolate, "You'll get along, just wait till Ron finds out he'll flip."

"Ok then what should I do?" Frdd asked

"You have to talk to her idiot." George pointed out.

"WWhat do I say?" The older twin asked.

The younger just shrugged, "Wwhatever you say will be on her ankle anyway so just try and make it romantic."

"Alright." Fred said still quite unsure on what to do.

You sat in potions trying not to laugh your ass off as Angelina a girl from Gryffindor totally ditched her potion.

You had finished ages ago and were simply waiting to be dismissed. You glanced down at your watch. Five minutes.

You had been anxious to get back to the quidditch pitch. You had to get in some more practice before the next match. You were playing hufflepuff and wanted to stick iit to Cadwallader. You had five gallons on the fact you would score more points then him in the upcoming match and you'd don't lose.

So when Snape finally said you could go you practically slept from your seat in excitement.

You sprinted down the hallways as quickly as you could only run striated into someone. You fell backwards landing hard on your butt and letting out a yelp of pain. You book bag had slid across the floor and hit the opposite wall of the thin hallway.

"Oh Merlin, are you alright?" A voice asAsked and you about passed out. Those were the words on your ankle. You looked up to see a mess of red hair with matching red robes and red cheeks. His eyes seemed to glow in the candlelight as he stuck his hand out for you to grab. You felt the heat rise in your face as well, since when was Fred Weasley so attractive?

"Shit, I said something didn't I." He looked upset, as he pulled you to your feet. You felt your face grow even brighter at contact with his surprisingly soft hands.

"Uh yeah ya did." You practically whispered your y/e/c eyes big as golf balls.

"So then you know?" He asked fidgeting with his robes.

"Know what?" You asked completely bewildered by the things that had happened in the past minute.

"That your my soulmate." He laughed.

"Yeah I guess I know that." You said your mind was going crazy. Fred Weasley was your soulmate? What? I mean sure he's incredibly good looking and funny and smart and great at quidditch but, what?!

"You probably don't even know which twin I am." He laughed a bit although the idea of his soulmate not knowing who he was hurt. "Im-"

"Fred." You finished for him. "I know who you are."

"Really?" Fred asked eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Yeah I do. Wait, how did you know o was your soulmate?"

Fred blushed as your y/e/c eyes gleamed up at him. Your y/h/l y/h/c hair framed your face beautifully and he was suddenly struck with how attractive you are. Your face was dusted pink and it made you look incredible. "Well umm, remember when I knocked you off your broom yesterday?"

"Vividly" you answer eyes narrowed a bit, your arms now crossed.

"Well afterward you said-"

"If you don't shut up Wesley I'll shove that bat up your ass." You finished for him again doing your best to contain the laughter inside you. You failed miserably and burst with giggles. He thought it was the most amazing sound to ever grace his ears.

"Wait wait wait," you managed to squeak out still giggling, "Is that seriously tattooed on your ankle?"

"Yep." And to prove it Fred pulled his sock down and showed you the words printed on to his pale skin

You burst in a wave of fresh laughter, "I'm sure your mom loves that." You said between laughs.

"Glad you find my misfortune so hilarious." Fred said rolling his eyes playfully.

"Oh come on. If it was me with those words on my ankle you would be losing your shit." You pointed out still laughing.

"Your right, I should have said something closer to, 'Look where the fuck your going." As payback." He smirked and you burst into laughter once again.

"You should have!" You were crying with joy at this point, "It would have been one hell of conversation starter!"

Now Fred was laughing too, his smile bright. He looked down at your giggling form and he was once again talking by your beauty. Your eyes shining with tears and gleaming with joy. Your extremely soft looking lips a light pink color were stretched into a wide slightly lopsided smile.

As he stared your laughter died out and you had looked back up at him, you blushed a bit to find his gaze on you, "Like what you see Weasley?" You asked a cocky smirk on your lips.

"In fact I do." He said smirking right back and leaning down a bit to be somewhat level with your eyes.

"Well you aren't exactly ugly." You bit your lip as you did so and Fred about lost it. Keep it cool he reminded himself. So instead he placed his hand over his heart dropped his mouth and blinked a few times feigning hurt.

"That's what I get as a complement?" He asked in fake surprise, "I'm offended."

"Ever the dramatic Weasley." You smirked.

"I am quite a good actor." He said leaning closer to you, you could feel his breath on your cheek and your smirk dropped. He had to know that he was doing right? That wasn't fair.

"Im good at more than acting though." He winked, smirking as you blushed a deep crimson.

You attempted to stay on track, "A-and what else might you be good at? I haven't seen much." It would have been fine if you didn't stutter but damn he was really close to you and smelled like a mix of smoke and chocolate. It was completely infatuating.

"Oh, you'll see plenty." You wanted to smack the smirk off his face. He was playing with you, but you weren't in the mood for games anymore.

"Oh shut up." You whispered face burning. With that you yanked him down to meet you lips. He was clearly taken off guard but kissed back quite quickly once your lips moved against his. He quickly pushed you up against the wall and grabbed your waist. Your hands found their way to his fiery hair, it was surprisingly soft. You felt his tongue glide against your bottom lip and you opened your mouth, granting it access.

When he pulled away your lungs were burning and you gasped for air.

"I hope you know this doesn't change anything on the pitch." You said.

"Of course, I'm just going to have to make sure not to hit your face with any bludgers. Wouldn't want to ruin its beauty, would I?" He winked.

"What every weakness you show I will use to my advantage." You smirked shrugging.

"I like the sound of that." He winked again.

"Keep it up and you will only be able to blink with one eye." You said eyebrows raised.

"Winking won't do that." He pointed out.

"Yeah but me poking one of your eyes out will." You deadpanned.

"Has anyone ever told you your a little scary?" Fred asked as he leaned in again.

"Yep-" you were cut off by his lips.

"Y/l/n!"

You pushed Fred off of you to see Malfoy standing a few feet away a disgusted look etched on his face.

"Captain wants you, so get the Weasel’s tongue out of your throat so you can actually talk." He scoffed

"I'll see you later." You whispered to Fred. Before walking towards the platinum blonde. "You call him weasel again and I will cut your tongue off and make you eat it." You flashed the now terrified boy a cheeky smile and walking towards the pitch the young seeker sulking at your heels.

"See ya later Mouthful!" Fred shouted saluting the boy as he walked out the door.

Masterlist

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jinxthequeergirl · 5 years

Text

All i ask of you

Julian devorak x reader

Summary: after a couple years you stumble across a liar from your past

Yup im trying to write again slowly but surly im making progress and went through not one not two but five story ideas before i settled on this so enjoy!

Warning: none/ angsty?/ also really bad

Song: "All I Ask of you" from The Phantom of the opera

Also all blame goes to @asylummint for this new hyperfixation

~~~~~~~~

The night wasn't all that dark thanks to the full moon over head making your job a lot easier. Swinging from your ship to the one you and your crew men had sailed close to in the night with almost little to no sound as you landed on deck two of your men followed after.

The lot of you slipt up in search of materials and goods to bring aboard your own ship.

"I'm sure you where quite a good fellow."

You tensed at the voice that apperd behind you. "And thats why its such a same i have to throw you over board." You huffed as the voice poked you in the back with a sword. "Now get up." You followed orders but once fully upright quickly spun around punching the man square in the jaw and kicked his legs out from under him.

He landed with a hard thud letting his sword skid across the floor boards. "Lucky for you you won't have the pleaser of doing so."

The man scowled holding his jaw whrn looking up at you and froze. "You...you cut your hair?..." He asked with a smug smile.

You looked at the man with the same awe struck expression before it twisted into anger. "Bastard!" His eyes widened and he quickly rolled away from you as you brought your sword down to slash him. He grabbed his sword in time to block your second attack. "Y/n, please! Lets talk!"

You growled disarming him again this time enough to send his weapon over the edge of the ship. "Talk? Really? After what you did? You know they have a bounty on your head back in Vesuvia, i ought to turn you in!" He crawled back on his elbows as you advanced twoards him.

He stopped moving feeling his back hit two pairs of strong legs. He looked up meeting the angry faces of your crew men. "Take him!" You barked at the men.

"No! No! Stop! Y/n!" Both men grabbed his arms and carried him off the ship twoards your own. He looked back at you pleadingly but you only scowled in return.

~~**~~

"Julian!" You jumped from your seat in your bedroom quickly as the red haired man stumbled through the window.

"Y/n, Darling!" He beamed after landing on the floor. "What are you doing!? How did you even manage to-"

"A man in love has his ways." He replied cheekily as you pulled him up from the floor. You only laughed making his face flush.

Julian and the rest of the crew he managed to become part of landed on your island in search of "a place to lay low and find riches." As julian put it.

But within the first hour he managed to get himself into trouble and ran into at the local bar.

After the trouble passed he stuck around he told you to many stories to count and learned about yourself and ended up loving you more than he expected.

Since then he's been around you a lot managing to run into you unexpectedly or even, now crawl through your window on your ship.

"So tell me more about being i pirate! What can i expect." You said excitedly sitting close to him on the bed. He laughed lightly and began to tell you all about his adventures.

~~**~~

The sun beat down on his face through the metal grate above him and he jumped back with a start when it creeked open and slammed against the deck above. "Rise and shine princess, captain's here to see ya!"

He looked up some what hopefullly at you once you appered abobe him. "Keep our course for Vesuvia while i talk to him." You ordered the man who opened the grate.

Upon julians hearing you say that his somewhat hopeful look faded, but he didn't let that show.

"You know this place is just how i remeber it." You slid down the rope latter and faced him with an unimpressed look. "And might i say you my dear are looking as beautiful as the la...well as ever, and what about dear old dad? Will he be joining us anytime soon?"

"He's dead." You said flatly and that seemed to shut him up. "Im...im...sorry to hear..."

"Don't be when he died i learned he left this beauty to me so i searched the city for the toughest group of people i could find and...well we are here. Im the pirate princess! The most feared woman in all the seven seas!"

He frowned he had heard stories of the pirate princess, the daring lady he just didn't expect you. "Well at least you got what you wanted..."

"Yes. I did." He couldn't bring himself to look at you, across your face sat the most hatefilled, disappinted look he had ever seen on anyones face it just hurt him more coming from you. But he knew he was in the wrong.

"Y/n you have to let me go...i can't go back to vesuvia they'll have me hanged!"

"And rightfully so! You should be punisjed for what you've done! Not just to me but to everyone back on the island! To my father!" You hissed.

"No just hear me out! The count...i...i..don't remeber what happend! And...and as for you i can explain!"

"Explain what, devorak? If i sat here and listened to you i wouldn't be able to tell if what you where telling me is true or not!"

He winced. "Please! What will it take for you to listen to me!?....i know! My coat pocket! Look in there, look in there and maybe you'll listen. Just please listen y/n...that's all I ask of you!" You rolled your eyes and moved up the latter. "We are to land in vesuvia tomorrow evening...start preparing a farewell speach."

He looked up at you eyes widen with fear and disapoimtment as the gate slammed shut. "Y/n!...y/n!"

~~**~~

Three maybe more months you had both lost track of time and you both lied on the floor of the deck on your fathers ship looking up at the stars. The night was warm, the sky was clear, you where happy thats all julian wanted.

Something seemed to bother you and you sat up. "Whats the matter?"

"What if...what if you leave me-"

"Y/n i would-"

"Ilya...just hear me out...you came with a crew who was more than glad to take you in...when they have to leave you'll go too...and what if i end up just like my father? Afraid to ever leave the docks, to actually set sail? Ilya when im with you-"

"You trust me?" You stopped and looked at him quizically. "Yes."

"So why don't we run away together? Me and you, our own ship, the most daring pirate duo on all the seven seas! What do you think?"

You seemed to light up at the idea. "You mean it?"

"I do! Just say you'll share with me one love, one life time..." He stood up pulling you with him.

"Just say the words and I'll follow you."

"Share each day with me,each night, each morning..." He spun you around earning a playfull giggle from you before kneeling down infront of you.

"Say you love me!" He said before pulling a small ring from his coat pocket. You gaped and smiled.

"Julian, you know i do!" He grinned and placed the ring on your finger before scooping you into a hug and spinning you around.

"Anywhere you go! Let me go too!...Julian, that's all i ask of you." He smiled and kissed you deeply. "Of course!"

"So what would we name our ship?" You asked looking up at him in admaration, He thought for a moment.

"How about esprit libre or the free spirit?"

"I love it!' you said giddily kissing him again.

~~**~~

You stared at the palm of your hand in awe looking at the ring you had inturn given him the same night. You grinded your teeth and headed back to deck.

"Captain is everything-"

"Open the cell i need to talk to Devorak." With haste on of the crew men unlocked the cell pit and flung it open, and without a second thought you jumped down. "What the hell is this supposed to mean!?" You yelled holding up the ring.

He lit up scrambaling twoards you. "It means I didn't just blindly abandon you! After i left i held on because i had no choice but to leave you!"

"You promised!"

"I also promised myself i wouldn't let anything happen to you!" It was your turn to now be taken aback and confused.

~~**~~

"Devorak, there you are!" Julian froze at the voice of his captain. "Captain! Sir!"

He turned and faced the man who had an evil, twisted smirk on his face. "I've been looking for ya!"

"You have?"

"Ey, some of the men say you found the restin spot of one of the wealthiest pirates of our time."

Julian felt his blood run cold.

"Is that so...well i don't know where they would have gotten that id-" captain shibed him into a wall knocking the wind from him.

"Don't play dumb with me boy! I know about your little princess there and i have about three men with a close eye on her so where. Is. The. Ship?"

Julian swallowed thickly. "I'll show you, but leave her out of this." The captain gave a thoothy grin. "Leade the way.

~~**~~

"If i didn't you might not have been here now...and i would have been the one to blame..."

"And then?"

"Well after they robbed what they could that night from everyone in the city they dragged me back to the ship, no choice in the matter...no goodbye...i lost you that night to keep you safe."

You stared at him. Wanting to say something but not knowing what.

"Captain! Vesuvia just ahead!" You looked up at the man and nodded then to julian worried. "Ilya!...i...I'll have them turn around-"

His heart hopped into his throat at the nickname you once called him. "Y/n no!" He attempted to move and grab you but failed to his ristrans.

"If we don't-"

"I can hide out vesuvia is a larg city!" You looked at him before an idea struck. "Very well but i can't let my men think i've gone soft...i'll have to escort you in." He nodded.

"Then we can have a proper goodbye."

The ship landed kn the docks and you held julian by the arm, his hands tied behind his back. You turned to your second in command and whispered something to him before carrying julian into the city.

You both stopped far enough from the docks but not to deep into the city where people would be watching. You freed him and looked at eachother. "I guess this is fairwell...the proper way." He stuck out his hand for you to shake. You took it and pulled him into a hug.

"Please like i would let you go again?" He pulled away and looked at you baffled. "But the ship-"

You waved it off "i told them some lie they are already halc way out to sea by now...besides i've done about everything a pirate can...we can start over here."

He smiled and quickly cupped your cheeks kissing you.

"Anywhere you go, let me go too...Thats all I ask of you..."

#the arcana x reader #the arcana x mc #julian devorak #julian devorak x reader #the arcana #the arcane julian #the arcane mc

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zxddy-panther · 5 years

Text

Real Love

College AU

T’challa x Black Reader

A/N: Hey guys I’m back with another story ayyye. Lol um i’m not sure if i wrote this one too well. I’ve been working on it for dayyyyys guys. I hope it’s decent. Also sorry about the spacing between paragraphs. Tumblr was saying that i reached my limit so i had to squeeze.

You pace back and forth in your college dorm nervously awaiting your best friend's presence. You needed to talk to him desperately about a topic that has been torturing you mind for a few months now. His advise was very much needed in this situation. The doorbell sounded, signaling his arrival. You ran up to the door and opened the door to your bestie of 6 years holding vanilla ice cream and some other sweet treats.

You sighed in relief, "Ugh Udaku. What would I do without you."

"Nothing. You would be practically hopeless" You laughed pushing him softly

The two of you headed to your bedroom and T'challa could already see your uneasiness. You walked with your eyes pointed towards the floor, fiddling with your fingers as you did so.

Finally reaching your room T'challa spoke on his observation. "Y/N are you alright."

You turned towards him and spoke. "Yeah I just really needed your advise on something. Um so you know Jalen right?"

T'challa rolled his eyes in disgust. He wasn't too fond of your boyfriend but never told you that because he would never intentionally hurt you like that. He just made sure that he wasn't in the same vicinity as that idiot.

"Yes. What about him?" he said in an annoyed tone

You paused for a second, trying to figure out how to say it.

"Well a few months ago he um...... actually cheated on me and-"

"He WHAT!" Tchalla exclaimed

"Yeah but" you fiddled with your thumbs some more. "He's been calling me and asking me to take him back, saying that he's really changed and all of that. I mean, should I?"

Tchalla's heart was beating 10 times faster than normal. His anger and hatred for Jalen just become more a lot stronger. He just doesn't understand why you would want him back.

"Y/N, are you hearing yourself? You know he doesn't love you."

"Ok Ok T'challa you can stop now." You murmured but he just kept going.

" Y/N, you don't deserve to be treated the way he treats you! That is not love! You need to be shown what real love-"

"T'challa! Stop." All was silent and tears began to well in your eyes. You moved across the room and turned your back towards him. "Can we not talk about this? I don't want to talk about it with you anymore."

"Ok then lets not talk." Fast footsteps was all that could be heard until you felt him slip his hands around your waist. The feeling sent a shock of electricity through your body, a foreign feeling to be exact. This was something you've never felt with Jalen and you wondered why. Once T'challa made you face him he looked at your lips enticingly and leaned into you slowly.

"Aye aye. What are yo-" . T'challa placed his hand at the back of your neck and pulled you into a passionate kiss. Your eyes fluttered shut. His soft lips massaged yours in a very slow and gracious manner. Your body was being set ablaze by his touch. Any section of his smooth skin that touched your own helped to spark a sensation that was unexplainable. He ran his hands down your body and hugged your body close to himself, like if he didn't hold on tightly to this moment it'll disappear. The sudden movement caused you to release a small moan against his lips. Tchalla pulled away from you slowly and sighed in relief.

"Tchalla. Wha-what was that." You would have never imagined that you'd someday be kissing your best friend. T'challa stood in front of you, staring at the floor.

"Y/N.." He paused and took a deep breath. I love you a-and I'm sorry for doing that. I just couldn't help myself. I've felt this way for a long time now but I just couldn't bring myself to tell you. Everyday it became a battle within myself to confess my feelings towards you. I'm also very sorry about what I said before. I shouldn't have spoken that way to you or about Jalen."

He bent down to retrieve his book bag from the corner of your room. With a sadden spirit, he began treading towards the door. "I'll just let myself out." T'challa reached for the door knob and headed out, but not before he could get one last glimpse of your face for the last time. "Good bye Y/n.." he whispered as he shut the door.

Your heart dropped from your chest and started beating in your fingertips. You blinked several times to make sure that you were not dreaming. Emotions were running wild and thoughts were jumping off the walls. Who do you love?

5 months ago

"Jalen why the fuck is my cousin blowing your phone up with nudes and text messgaes! What the hell!" You stormed into the living room where your lazy ass boyfriend laid playing on his second phone. Jalen quickly looked up at the sound of your heavy footsteps.

"Y/N what the hell are you talking about."

"My cousinnnn is sending nudes to your phone! You dumbass. Would like to explain to me how she got your number and why-" The phone chimed alerting a new message. "Oh here's and heres a new text. Lets read it. 'I want to feel you inside me again.' AGAIN?! You fucked my cousin Jalen?!" You shoved the phone in his face.

Jalen stood up and suddenly snatched from your grasp.

"Yo what the fuck did I tell you about being on my phone bruh! Should've taken your finger print off a long time ago." Jalen growled. Your blood was boiling and the rage began to build.

"Are you kidding me right now. You fucking cheated on me with my cousin of all people and you're worried about my finger print? So you're CHEATING cheating?!" Jalen looked up at you a scoffed, a smirk spreading across his long face.

"That's it! Im done." you screamed. "After all the years we've spend together! You go and do this to me?" Tears began to sting at your eyes. You ran to your room and began to pack up your things. There was no way in hell that you were staying here another second with this idiot. The muffed sound of Jalen's footsteps followed after you.

His voice come out in a deep growl, "Where the hell do you think you're going." You stood up and turned to face him.

"I'm getting the fuck away from here. You went lower than low Jalen. Do you really expect for me to sit up under this roof with you and act as if everything is ok? Hell no! There is no way I'm going to stay and let you treat me like this. I'm leaving."

He let out a dark and sinister laugh. "No you're not"

You scoffed, "Oh yeah? And who's gonna stop me." He stared you down as his eyes began to turn dark and before you knew it you were being lifted from the ground. Jalen had a strong grip around your torso and was persistent on keeping you in the room. "Let me go!" You kicked your legs rapidly and tried to pry his arms from your body. Your back hit the hard mattress in a matter of seconds. Jalen held your arms about your head tightly, leaving you unable to move your wrists.

"Mmm you're not going anywhere baby 'cuz you mine." He bent his head down and started licking at your neck, sucking the skin harshly. His hands ran up your shirt and felt cold against your warm flesh. He squeezed your breast and began sucking your sweet spot. The same gestures that were usually done during intimacy between the two of you used to be so pure, so full of love but now all you can feel is utter disgust and anger.

"Jalen move. I don't want to hurt you." You wiggled your body under his in an attempt to slide away. He pressed his body against your right leg to get you to stop moving. He picked his head back up to face your tearstained face.

"I'm never letting you go." He pressed his lips to yours in an unwanted kiss, forcefully sticking his tongue into your mouth and invading your space. With a swiftness you used your right knee to severely hurt his groin. Jalen let out a load groan and fell onto the floor, finally releasing you from his vice grip. You jumped up fast, grabbed your bag and headed for the door. Grabbing your keys from the counter you removed his dorm key from your keychain and removed your dorm key from his own key chain.

"Never fucking contact me again!" you screamed and slammed the door.

7 months ago

"Give it back Y/N. Im serious." Tchalla yelled as he chased you down the hallway of his dorm room. You ran into his living room giggling and sat yourself on his plush carpet. You held his mini journal high above your head, teasing him.

"You're not serious look at that big smile on your face" You laughed. He looked down at you and smiled.

"Just hand it over."

"Come get it." You continued to tease. Tchalla leaped on top of you, causing you to fall onto your back with laughter in your voice. Finally grabbing the book Tchalla hovered himself above you.

"Ha. Got i-" he didn't realize the vulnerable position the two of you were in until the games ended. Looking up at him made your heart begin to beat faster. There was tension in the air and you both could definitely feel it.

You couldn't deny your feelings for Tchalla had been developing during the years of friendship the two of you shared. He was always there for you and cared so much about you. He would never go a day without calling or texting you to see if you were alright, even if there was nothing wrong. His big heart was starting to make you fall for him.

He quickly removed his body from yours, allowing you to sit up as well. You stared at the back of his head for sometime before you spoke.

"Tchalla?'

"Y/N I-I'm sorry about that."

You found his shyness adorable as you began to smile.

"Its ok silly." You stood up and walked in front of him with your hand held out. Slowly lifting his head he looked back up at you. "Lets go eat. I'm starving." He took your hand and laughed.

Present

"What the hell am I doing." You asked yourself. "I have a man who actually loves me and I let him walk out the door." Your legs moved before you could even make them. You swung your front door open and looked down the hallway. T'challa was there, walking slowly with his head down until you called out to him.

"T'challa wait!" He turned and stopped in his tracks as he watched you run to him. When you reached him you jumped into his arms, causing him to stumble back as he, surprisingly, caught you.

"It was you. Its you...Its always been you." you said as you hugged him tightly.

"Y/N what are you talking about." Releasing him from your hug you looked deeply into his eyes. "I love you too T'challa"

His eyes lit up and his smile grew wide. Hearing those words from you brought life to his heart again. He brought his hands to the sides of your face, his warm touch bringing you comfort in the moment.

"May I." T'challa asked while still staring into you. "Yes you may" You giggled as he leaned forward to kiss you once more. The kiss got more heated causing T'challa to back you up onto the hallway walls. His hands went down to your backside, rubbing and sqeezing it softly. You broke the kiss in laughter and rested your forehead against his.

Breathlessly he said "Say it again"

"I really love you T'challa Udaku"

A/N: If you like it repost it. And please message me if you want to be part of my taglist☺️

Taglist: @chaneajoyyy @wakandaking12-blog @wakanda-4evr @sisterwifeudaku @tchalla-and-mbaku @wakandankings @wakandamama @melaninmarvel

#black panther #black panther imagine #zxddy imagine #chadwick boseman #tchalla

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asexual--junpei · 3 years

Note

ᕦ(✧ᗜ✧)ᕥ You take the moon and you take the sun. ᕦ(✧ᗜ✧)ᕥ

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) You take everything that sounds like fun. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

☞♥Ꮂ♥☞ You stir it all together and then you're done. ☞♥Ꮂ♥☞

ᕙ(◍.◎)ᕗ Rada rada rada rada rada rada. ᕙ(◍.◎)ᕗ

ᕦ(✧ᗜ✧)ᕥ ☞♥Ꮂ♥☞ ᕙ(◍.◎)ᕗ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) So come on in, feel free to do some looking.

Stay a while 'cause somethings always cooking.

Come on in, feel free to do some looking.

Stay a while 'cause somethings always cooking.

Yeah!!! ᕦ(✧ᗜ✧)ᕥ ☞♥Ꮂ♥☞ ᕙ(◍.◎)ᕗ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

You are about to get spammed with 600 dank memes. Prepare all nukes and weapons for the Great Spam War. If you can contain the amount of spam I have, you will be granted with special powers that allow you to smoke weed 200 times harder. Not only that, but you will have a laggy as fuck laptop. You know how lucky you are?????? My laptop runs at 669FPS and it never lags or is slow. YOU LUCKY SON OF A GUN. You will pay the price by me giving you a link (Which shall contain a download) which will wipe all your memory off the face of this universe and overwrite it with my own software, Memesoftlocker2.0000.0. You are so damn lucky you know that? NOT EVEN I HAVE IT SLUT. But if you were able to read up to this point congratulations, you suck. But click this link www.mymom.;;;;;;/eeeeeeee.crash; and you will be taken to a memory erase phrase. You lucky slut, but you will get the best computer software ever that makes your computer lag so bad that you can't even use it. LIKE HOW AMAZING??? Yes, I promise you this is 420% legit. But if you spread this abusive software you have EARNED I will suck you off this living universe so be careful buddy. Now, Please stop reading this message as it ends now...

Excuse me? I find vaping to be one of the best things in my life. It has carried me through the toughest of times and brought light and vapor upon my spirit. You're just another one of those people who doesn't believe in chem trails and fluoride turning us gay. Your ignorance to the government is what makes you a sheep in today's society. Have fun being a slave to todays's system.

🆗 son, 🌞 there ain't❌❌a ☝single☝fucking☝person☝ with any intellect👓👓📖who gives a 🎮remote🎮fuck🎮about your extensive vaping💯😎💨 talent. 😂I happen to be quite🎩the🎩intellectual🎩myself, so I can confirm✔✔this fact💯as truth™.👌if👌you👌think👌 that your vape💯😎💨 is going↗to get you hoes👯👯, you are utterly🐄 mistaken❌, fam👪. my pa👨 once taught📖 me the 😏secret😏 of life👍💛, and it was not❌❌ your vape💯😎💨 🆗🆒now listen 👂👂here my chum✌✌, my pa👨 was a man who kept it 💯💯💯💯💯💯. ✋that✋is✋six✋fucking✋hundreds✋ and he never❌🙅🙅 once vaped💯😎💨. The man 🚬smoked🚬some🚬mad🚬cigars🚬 because he wasnt❌the pussy🐱🐱you are🆗⁉❗⁉ he lived to be 💯 because he kept it 💯💯💯💯💯💯 and killed🔫🔪 👌every👌vaping👌fucker👌he👌saw👌🆗🆒😂😂👀👀 so in the spirit👻of me good ol pa👨, I think💭you should kys🔫 they have 🆓 vapes💯😎💨 in hell🔥and🔥it's🔥lit🔥for😂 unintelligent vaping💯😎💨 hooligans like yourself👌😂😂

I sexually Identify as a Gabe Newell. Ever since I was a boy I dreamed of filling my wallet by dropping Steam Sales onto 12 000 games at once. People say to me that a person being a Newell is impossible and I'm fucking retarded but I don't care, I'm beautiful. I have 10 computers worth over 10k each in order to drop new Steam Sales every few days. From now on I want you guys to call me "Gabe" and respect my right to get rich fast and discount needlessly. If you can't accept me you're a profitophobe and need to check your wallet. Thank you for being so understanding.

We regret to inform you that the card titled "Mommy's Debit" has been declinded your latest purchases due to suspicous activities. To unlock your card for further use, please confirm your recent purchases with your local bank. The listing follows

- 1x Monster Horse Dildo 12' Lubricated Thrusters

- 3x Backdoor Sluts 9

- 1x "Undetectable Aimbot" from AimJunkies

- 6x Magnum condoms

- 5x Bananas

- 1x Small Condom

- 2x Subscription to JakeChillz Minecraft stream

- 1x Deag's Rust Career

- 1x Gay Poster

Please respond back to us using your old email:

[email protected]

Thanks for your patience,

Wells All Mighty Lord Gabe.

Here in my garage, just bought this new lamborghini here. It’s fun to drive up here in the Steam Hills. But you know what I like more than single discounts? Steam Sales In fact, I’m a lot more proud of two new Steam Sales that I had to get installed to hold twelve thousand new discounts on Steam. It’s like what i say, “the more you discount, the more you earn.”

My Grandfather smoked his whole life. I was about 10 years old when my mother said to him, 'If you ever want to see your grandchildren graduate, you have to stop immediately.'. Tears welled up in his eyes when he realized what exactly was at stake. He gave it up immediately. Three years later he died of lung cancer. It was really sad and destroyed me. My mother said to me- 'Don't ever smoke. Please don't put your family through what your Grandfather put us through." I agreed. At 28, I have never touched a cigarette. I must say, I feel a very slight sense of regret for never having done it, because your post gave me cancer anyway.

ＨＥＹＲＴＺ，Ｉ’ＭＴＲＹＩＮＧＴＯＬＥＡＲＮＴＯＰＬＡＹＲＩＫＩ．ＩＪＵＳＴＨＡＶＥＡＱＵＥＳＴＩＯＮＡＢＯＵＴＴＨＥＳＫＩＬＬＢＵＩＬＤ：ＳＨＯＵＬＤＩＭＡＸＢＡＣＫＳＴＡＢＬＩＫＥＹＯＵＢＡＣＫＳＴＡＢＢＥＤＥＧ，ＳＭＯＫＥＳＣＲＥＥＮＳＯＴＨＥＹＭＩＳＳＭＥＬＩＫＥＥＧＭＩＳＳＹＯＵ７０％ＯＦＴＨＥＴＩＭＥ，ＯＲＰＥＲＭＡＮＥＴＩＮＶＩＳＩＢＩＬＩＴＹＳＯＩＣＯＵＬＤＤＩＳＡＰＰＥＡＲＬＩＫＥＹＯＵＤＩＳＡＰＰＥＡＲＥＤＦＲＯＭＥＧ

I sexually Identify as an Attack Helicopter. Ever since I was a boy I dreamed of soaring over the oilfields dropping hot sticky loads on disgusting foreigners. People say to me that a person being a helicopter is Impossible and I'm fucking retarded but I don't care, I'm beautiful. I'm having a plastic surgeon install rotary blades, 30 mm cannons and AMG-114 Hellfire missiles on my body. From now on I want you guys to call me "Apache" and respect my right to kill from above and kill needlessly. If you can't accept me you're a heliphobe and need to check your vehicle privilege. Thank you for being so understanding.

Gr8 b8, m8. I rel8, str8 appreci8, and congratul8. I r8 this b8 an 8/8. Plz no h8, I'm str8 ir8. Cr8 more, can't w8. We should convers8, I won't ber8, my number is 8888888, ask for N8. No calls l8 or out of st8. If on a d8, ask K8 to loc8. Even with a full pl8, I always have time to communic8 so don't hesit8. dont forget to medit8 and particip8 and masturb8 to allevi8 your ability to tabul8 the f8. We should meet up m8 and convers8 on how we can cre8 more gr8 b8, I'm sure everyone would appreci8, no h8. I don't mean to defl8 your hopes, but its hard to dict8 where the b8 will rel8 and we may end up with out being appreci8d, I'm sure you can rel8. We can cre8 b8 like alexander the gr8, stretch posts longer than the Nile's str8s. We'll be the captains of b8, 4chan our first m8s the growth r8 will spread to reddit and like real est8 and be a flow r8 of gr8 b8, like a blind d8 we'll coll8, meet me upst8 where we can convers8, or ice sk8 or lose w8 infl8 our hot air baloons and fly, tail g8. We could land in Kuw8, eat a soup pl8 followed by a dessert pl8 the payment r8 won't be too ir8 and hopefully our currency won't defl8. We'll head to the Israeli-St8, taker over like Herod the gr8 and b8 the jewish masses, 8 million, m8. We could interrel8 communism, thought it's past it's maturity d8, a department of st8, volunteer st8. reduce the infant mortality r8, all in the name of making gr8 b8 m8.

What the ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) did you just ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) say about me, you little ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)? I'll have you know I graduated top of my ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) in the ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), and I've been involved in numerous secret ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) on ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), and I have over 300 confirmed ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). I am trained in ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) warfare and I'm the top ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) in the entire US armed ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). You are nothing to me but just another ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). I will wipe you the ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) out with precision the ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) of which has never been seen before on this ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), mark my ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) words. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) think ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) can get away with saying that ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) to me over the ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)? Think again, ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). As we speak I am contacting my secret network of ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) across the ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) and your ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) is being ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) right now so you better ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) for the ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). The ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). You're ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) dead, ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). I can be ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), anytime, and I can ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) you in over seven hundred ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), and that's just with my bare ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). Not only am I extensively trained in ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) combat, but I have access to the entire ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) of the United States ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) off the face of the ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), you little ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) comment was about to bring down upon ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), maybe you would have held your ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). But you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're paying the price, you ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). I will ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) fury all over ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) and ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) will ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) in it. You're ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) dead, ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°).

My name is Artour Babaevsky. I grow up in smal farm to have make potatos. Father say "Artour, potato harvest is bad. Need you to have play professional Doto in Amerikanski for make money for head-scarf for babushka."I bring honor to komrade and babushka. Sorry for is not have English. Please no cyka pasta coperino pasterino liquidino throwerino.

hi every1 im new!!!!!!! holds up spork my name is katy but u can call me t3h PeNgU1N oF d00m!!!!!!!! lol…as u can see im very random!!!! thats why i came here, 2 meet random ppl like me _… im 13 years old (im mature 4 my age tho!!) i like 2 watch invader zim w/ my girlfreind (im bi if u dont like it deal w/it) its our favorite tv show!!! bcuz its SOOOO random!!!! shes random 2 of course but i want 2 meet more random ppl =) like they say the more the merrier!!!! lol…neways i hope 2 make alot of freinds here so give me lots of commentses!!!!

DOOOOOMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <--- me bein random again _^ hehe…toodles!!!!!

Hi, 4k player here who reported slahser. Slahser was our position 1 faceless void. He built a mek and had around 29 healing salves in his inventory. He would chrono both teams in the middle of a fight, salve his allies, pop mek, and proceeded to yell "SLAHSER'S WAY". We gave him position 1 farm so he could be a position 5.

Granted, his unorthodox build worked and carried us to victory but I still felt it deserved a report.

I owe my life to Arteezy. I got in a horrible car crash and i was in 6 month coma. The nurse switched to the Twitch channel to Arteezy's stream. I awoke from my coma and muted it.

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ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ RAISE YOUR DONGERS ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ

(ง ͠ ͠° ل͜ °)ง ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴsᴇᴇɴ ᴅᴏɴɢᴇʀ ɪs ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟɪᴇsᴛ (ง ͠° ل͜ °)ง

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ As I ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴜʀᴀɪ sᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍʏ sᴛᴏᴍᴀᴄʜ ᴀs I ᴡᴀs ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴍᴍɪᴛ sᴜᴅᴏᴋᴜ, I ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ Kʀɪᴘᴘ ᴘʟᴀʏ Cᴀsᴜᴀʟsᴛᴏɴᴇ... I ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ Kʀɪᴘ ᴡᴀs Nᴏʟɪғᴇ... ɴᴏᴡ I ᴀᴍ Nᴏʟɪғᴇ...ɢᴏᴏᴅ ʙʏᴇ ᴋʀɪᴘᴘ ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

(ง ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)ง ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴏᴅs (ง ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)ง (ง •̀_•́)ง ʏᴇᴀʜ sᴘᴀᴍ ɪᴛ! (ง •̀_•́)ง

(╭ರ_•́)\ Mr. Fors we politely ask for the program 'Plug-Dj" to be used in this live broadcast for alas we will stir up a ruckus (╭ರ_•́)

(̿▀̿ ̿Ĺ̯̿̿▀̿ ̿)̄ ɴᴀᴍᴇ's ᴅᴏɴɢ. ᴊᴀᴍᴇs ᴅᴏɴɢ (̿▀̿ ̿Ĺ̯̿̿▀̿ ̿)̄

(ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง I have been training since before I was born, and today is the day. Today is the day I spam. (ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง

༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º ༽ºل͟º ༽ºل͟º ༽YOU CAME TO THE WRONG DONGERHOOD༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º ༽ºل͟º ༽ºل͟º ༽

༼ ºل͟º ༼ ºل͟º ༼ ºل͟º ༽ ºل͟º ༽ ºل͟º ༽ YOU PASTARINO'D THE WRONG DONGERINO ༼ ºل͟º ༼ ºل͟º ༼ ºل͟º ༽ ºل͟º ༽ ºل͟º ༽

༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º༽ºل͟º ༽ YOU COPERINO FRAPPUCCIONO PASTARINO'D THE WRONG DONGERINO ༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º༽ºل͟º ༽

༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º ༽ºل͟º ༽ºل͟º ༽You either die a DONG, or live long enough to become the DONGER༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º ༽ºل͟º ༽ºل͟º ༽

༼ ಠل͟ರೃ༼ ಠل͟ರೃ༼ ಠل͟ರೃ༼ ಠل͟ರೃ ༽ಠل͟ರೃ ༽ಠل͟ರೃ ༽ YOU ARRIVED IN THE INCORRECT DONGERHOOD, SIR༼ ಠل͟ರೃ༼ ಠل͟ರೃ༼ ಠل͟ರೃ༼ ಠل͟ರೃ ༽ಠل͟ರೃ ༽ಠل͟ರೃ ༽

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )つ──☆*:・ﾟ clickty clack clickty clack with this chant I summon spam to the chat ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )つ──☆*:・ﾟ

ᕙ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ᕗ. ʜᴀʀᴅᴇʀ, ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ, ғᴀsᴛᴇʀ, ᴅᴏɴɢᴇʀ .ᕙ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ᕗ

ヽ(◉◡◔)ﾉ I'M LOL FAN AND I HAVE DOWN SYNDROME ヽ(◉◡◔)ﾉ

(ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴏɴɢᴇʀ, ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴇᴍʏ (ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง

(ง ͠° ل͜ °)ง LET ME DEMONSTRATE DONGER DIPLOMACY (ง ͠° ل͜ °)ง

(\ ( ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°) /) OUR DONGERS ARE RAZOR SHARP (\ ( ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°) /)

ヽ༼◥▶ل͜◀◤༽ﾉ RO RO RAISE YOUR DONGERS ヽ༼◥▶ل͜◀◤༽ﾉ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿'̿'̵͇̿̿з=༼ ▀̿̿Ĺ̯̿̿▀̿ ̿ ༽=ε/̵͇̿̿/’̿’̿ ̿ ̿̿[} ̿ ̿ ̿ ̿^ Stop right there criminal scum! no one RIOTs on my watch. I'm confiscating your goods. now pay your fine, or it's off to jail. ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿'̿'̵͇̿̿з=༼ ▀̿̿Ĺ̯̿̿▀̿ ̿ ༽ YOU'RE UNDER ARREST FOR BEING CASUAL. COME OUT WITH YOUR DONGERS RAISED ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿'̿'̵͇̿̿з=༼ ▀̿̿Ĺ̯̿̿▀̿ ̿ ༽

(ง'̀-'́)ง ＤＯＮＧＯＲＤＩＥ (ง'̀-'́)ง

ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ raise your dongers ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ

ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ VOICE OF AN ANGEL ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ

ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ LETS GET DONGERATED ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ

ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ RAISE YOUR BARNO ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ

ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ "I have a dong" ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ - Martin Luther King Jr.

ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ OJ poured and candle lit, with this chant i summon Kripp ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ

☑ OJ poured ☑ Candle lit ☑ Summoning the Kripp ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ

ヽ༼ຈل͜O༽ﾉ ʀᴀɪs ᴜʀ ᴅᴀɢᴇʀᴏ ヽ༼ຈل͜___ຈ༽ﾉ

(ง ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)งSuccubus release Kripp or taste our rage(ง ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)ง

ノ(ಠ_ಠノ ) ʟᴏᴡᴇʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴏɴɢᴇʀs ノ(ಠ_ಠノ)

ヽ༼Ὸل͜ຈ༽ﾉ HOIST THY DONGERS ヽ༼Ὸل͜ຈ༽ﾉ

ヽ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ﾉ Kripp you are kinda like my dad, except you're always there for me. ヽ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ﾉ

█▄༼ຈل͜ຈ༽▄█ yeah i work out

༼ ºل͟º ༽ I AM A DONG ༼ ºل͟º ༽

༼ ºل͟º༽ I DIDN'T CHOOSE THE DONGLIFE, THE DONGLIFE CHOSE ME ༼ ºل͟º༽

༼ ºل͟º༽ NO ONE CARED WHO I WAS UNTIL I PUT ON THE DONG ༼ ºل͟º༽

༼ ºººººل͟ººººº ༽ I AM SUPER DONG ༼ ºººººل͟ººººº ༽

┌∩┐༼ ºل͟º ༽┌∩┐ SUCK MY DONGER ┌∩┐༼ ºل͟º ༽┌∩┐

ζ༼Ɵ͆ل͜Ɵ͆༽ᶘ FINALLY A REAL DONG ζ༼Ɵ͆ل͜Ɵ͆༽ᶘ

<ᴍᴇssᴀɢᴇ ᴅᴏɴɢᴇʀᴇᴅ>

ヽ༼ʘ̚ل͜ʘ̚༽ﾉIS THAT A DONGER IN YOUR POCKET?ヽ༼ʘ̚ل͜ʘ̚༽ﾉ

༼ ͡■ل͜ ͡■༽ OPPA DONGER STYLE ༼ ͡■ل͜ ͡■༽

( ° ͜ ʖ °) REGI OP ( ° ͜ ʖ °)

(̿▀̿ ̿Ĺ̯̿̿▀̿ ̿)̄ IM DONG,JAMES DONG (̿▀̿ ̿Ĺ̯̿̿▀̿ ̿)̄

(ง⌐□ل͜□)ง WOULD YOU HIT A DONGER WITH GLASSES (ง⌐□ل͜□)ง

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ CUDDLE UR DONGERS ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

ლ(́◉◞౪◟◉‵ლ) let me hold your donger for a while ლ(́◉◞౪◟◉‵ლ)

ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ง MY RIGHT DONG IS ALOT STRONGER THAN MY LEFT ONE ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ง

(✌ﾟ∀ﾟ)☞ May the DONG be with you! ☚(ﾟヮﾟ☚)

(⌐■_■)=/̵͇̿̿/'̿'̿̿̿ ̿ ̿̿ ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ Keep Your Dongers Where i Can See Them ̿'̿'\̵͇̿̿\з=( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)=ε/̵͇̿̿/'̿̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ DUDE̿̿ ̿̿ ̿'̿'\̵͇̿̿\з=( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)=ε/̵͇̿̿/'̿̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ PLEASE NO COPY PASTERONI MACORONI DONGERIN

( ͝° ͜ʖ͡°) Mom always said my donger was big for my age ( ͝° ͜ʖ͡°)

Thats so cool! You should write a book or do a screen play

- mod santa

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icharchivist · 6 years

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whats your fave dai party banter? mine is with cole and dorian, when dorian is kinda like "be careful where youre going with these daggers i was casting fire spells at the enemies" and cole is just like "it can't hurt me, it's friendly fire" and then dorian (and me) kinda goes "that's- that's not really what you think it means" (i always disable friendly fire bc im a noob and i can't stand to involuntarily hurt my allies but cole, sweetheart, please don't get in harm's way)

Heyaa!!

Omg nonny :’D First, I’m completely with you on this one - this is such an adorable banter omg. It has everything, Dorian being concerned, Cole being adorable - this is beautiful. (and i feel you on the friendly fire stuff, just.. let’s limite damage ahah)

I don’t have a fave banter, mostly because i’m still discovering some banters i didn’t have before, and a l o t of them are gold.

Then, I generally love Cole’s banters. He’s always sweet and adorable and always with the most amazing replies, it makes me so happy.

then man there’s so much banters i love. I love Varric/Dorian always betting about stuff, Varric/Vivienne was an extreme amount of fun.Bull has a lot of dialogue I really like (especially with Sera and Vivienne, I love how strategic he gets with them to different extreme, and well, always soft spot for his dialogues with Dorian) but I really, really love his dynamic with Cole (he calls him “my squirrelly kid” i’m gonna cry). There’s something in Cole/Cassandra dynamic that i find really sweet too bc it starts very badly but they end up pretty close? it’s adorable.

…. so ye I’d say Cole’s banters are always a win.

edit: i ended up making a list of some of my fav and I actually love too much banters to just narrow them down i love those dorks

As for my favorite favorite, this is so hard to pinpoint one banter, they are all so cool? I can’t narrow down one orz

huuuh maybe a few randoms i really like: (which ended up being a long list so under the cut ;O take care!)

Varric: Okay, try it again, you’ll get it.Cole: Knock, knock.Varric: Who’s there?Cole: Me.Varric: (Sighs.) Me who?Cole: Me, and I’m telling a knock knock joke.Varric: Uh… that was… closer. Keep trying.

Cole: I like your horns, The Iron Bull.Cole: But they’re dragon horns, not bull horns. You could have named yourself The Iron Dragon.Iron Bull: Oh, shit. That would have been better.

Cole: You got to pick your name, The Iron Bull.Iron Bull: Sure did. Thanks for sticking the “the” on there, too. Most people forget.Iron Bull: It kinda makes it sound like I’m not really a person. Like I’m this dangerous thing, you know?Cole: You made it a joke on yourself, making a mockery, so you would never be that.Iron Bull: It kills the joke if you explain it, kid.

Dorian: Ah, Solas. You startled me. You’re always so… nondescript.Solas: Please speak up! I cannot hear you over your outfit!

Blackwall: Sera and I were just talking about you. We need you to settle a question for us.Solas: (Sighs.) Sera’s involved? So this question will be offensive.Blackwall: Yes, probably. Sorry.Blackwall: You make friends with spirits in the Fade. So… um, are there any that are more than just friends?Blackwall: If you know what I mean.Solas: Oh, for… really?!Blackwall: Look, it’s a natural thing to be curious about!Solas: For a twelve-year-old!Blackwall: It’s a simple yes or no question!Solas: Nothing about the Fade or spirits is simple, especially not that.Blackwall: Aha! So you do have experience in these matters!Solas: I did not say that.Blackwall: Don’t panic. It’ll be our little secret.Solas: Ass.Blackwall: Now who’s twelve?

Blackwall: Do you have any advice for fighting demons, Solas?Solas: Survive the first thirty heartbeats, and you’ll have already won.Blackwall: So I should try not to die? Helpful.Solas: I mean that demons are rarely intelligent enough to change their tactics. If you focus on defending yourself, you will see the full range of their abilities within the first thirty heartbeats. By then, you should be able to find a weakness and exploit it.Blackwall: Ahh, that is helpful! I will try to remember that.Solas: Also, try not to die.

Vivienne: Varric, darling, what manner of villain am I in your novel?Varric: You’re the scheming duchess, coldly maneuvering her political rivals into a trap.Vivienne: Yes, but what am I wearing? You are not going to describe me in anything less than the latest fashions, are you?Varric: I’m… going to spend the next few weeks researching Orlesian gowns, aren’t I?Vivienne: Yes, my dear. And my mask should be inlaid with opals.

Varric: I can’t wait for Chuckles to say something about the VeilSolas: I don’t always mention the Veil.Cassandra: You do. Always.Dorian: You do. You really do.Iron Bull: Yeah, you do.Vivienne: Of course you do, darling.Inquisitor/Blackwall: Yes, you do.Cole: You do think about it a lot.Varric: See? Told you.

Dorian: Come on, just answer the question, Varric.Varric: My mother didn’t raise any morons, Sparkler. I won’t touch that one.Dorian: You must have an opinion. And you’re a dwarf! Completely unbiased!Varric: There’s no way I’m answering “which inquisition mage is the best-dressed.” Not for all the gold in Orzammar.Vivienne: Also, the answer is obvious.

Varric: So, Sparkler, what do you think of the Inquisition so far?Dorian: It’s interesting, I’ll give you that. An archdemon attacking me is a first.Varric: Five royals says you see something weirder before the day ends.Dorian: I don’t think I should take that bet.

Varric: What do you think, Sparkler? Ten royals says the next thing we run into farts fire.Dorian: I’ll take that bet. I win either way.

Dorian: You owe me twenty royals, Varric. I’d like them paid in candied dates.Varric: I haven’t lost that wager yet.Dorian: You said we’d be ass-deep in trouble. This is more like knee-high.Varric: I didn’t specify whose ass, did I?Dorian: Leave it to a dwarf, always lowering the bar.

Varric: I got to ask, does any of this shit make sense to you?Dorian: To me? Are you referring to the giant hole in the sky? Or the creature out of Chantry cautionary tale who wants to be a god?Varric: Either. I’m feeling generous.Dorian: What’s the problem? Someone shows up, tears the place apart, declares himself king? That’s half of history.Varric: Corypheus is that terrifying drunk nobody’ll ask to leave?Dorian: Even after he puts a hole in the ceiling. Terribly common.

Blackwall: Corypheus. One of yours, isn’t he?Dorian: One of mine? Like a pet? Like a giant darkspawn hamster with aspirations of godhood?Dorian: ‘Dorian, why can’t you look after your little friends? Corypheus peed on the carpet again!’Dorian: In this analogy, the carpet is Haven.Blackwall: Is he or is he not a Tevinter Magister?Dorian: Meaning 'the source of everything bad and evil in the world’? They are the same, yes?Blackwall: Certainly feels that way at times.

Varric: I can’t believe you picked the absolute worst of my books to read. Why not Hard in Hightown?Cassandra: I have enough mysteries and investigations of my own.Varric: What? You don’t want to solve more in your spare time?Cassandra: Then you killed my favorite character in Chapter 3, so I threw the book across the room.Varric: Ah, a critic. Say no more.

Iron Bull: “Blackwall.” “Iron Bull.” We could fight crime!Blackwall: Isn’t that exactly what we’re doing? Right this minute? More or less?Iron Bull: Oh yeah.

Iron Bull: You could’ve been one of the Chargers, Blackwall. You’ve got the stature, the attitude…Blackwall: And you’d be my boss.Iron Bull: Hey, I’m a great boss. I’m a firm believer in No-Pants Fridays.Blackwall: I’d rather fight for a cause.Iron Bull: Hey, No-Pants Fridays is a cause.

Sera: So do all Gray Wardens have beards?Blackwall: Just me. I stole all the beards, and all the power held within. There can be only one.

Solas: Have you ever had any interest in learning magic, Sera? While it has not manifested naturally, there are ways to determine whether arcane gifts lie dormant within you.Sera: What? Don’t make me think about that. I have to sleep at night!Solas: Sleeping would give you the chance to explore the Fade. I could introduce you to spirits.Sera: Right, you’re messing with me on purpose!Solas: Why would I do that? It is not as though I know who filled my bedroll with lizards.Sera: Heh. Fair point! That was pretty good.

Sera: I sent a box of rabbit raisins to some Lord What’s-his-tits in your name.Vivienne: That explains the letter of gratitude. They were, by all accounts, delicious.Sera: Ewww! Ew, ewww!Vivienne: You underestimate both the fragility of his holdings, and the severity of tribute demanded of him in the past.Vivienne: Perhaps he was grateful it was not a stew made of some lesser cousin.Sera: That’s lies, right? Must be lies.

And one that i just find beautiful:

Solas: You truly are content to sit in the sun, never wondering what you could’ve been, never fighting back.Varric: Ha, you’ve got it all wrong, Chuckles. This is fighting back.Solas: How does passively accepting your fate constitute a fight?Varric: In that story of yours—-the fisherman watching the stars, dying alone. You thought he gave up, right?Solas: Yes.Varric: But he went on living. He lost everyone, but he still got up every morning. He made a life, even if it was alone.Varric: That’s the world. Everything you build, it tears down. Everything you’ve got, it takes. And it’s gone forever.Varric: The only choices you get are to lie down and die or keep going. He kept going. That’s as close to beating the world as anyone gets.Solas: Well said. Perhaps I was mistaken.

And i’m stopping there bc i already copied and pasted a lot of the wiki and i’m not even done with half of my favorite quotes, so i guess those should count

hope you like it nonny ;O

Take care ;O

#I can't pick one i love them all #and i'm honestly not doing justice to most of the banters i love #i just dkjfhkdf love them #anyway take care nonny ;OO #ichafantalks da #Anonymous #ichareply

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merrysithmas · 7 years

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The twitter post on nonbinary gender that you posted....ever since you started specifically posting about nonbinary gender, I've been wanting to ask you its meaning because I had never come across it. But I was scared and embarrassed to ask you cause i thought you'd get mad at me. Sometimes I want to educate myself but then you don't know who to talk to or ask about things. And also thank you because through your blog I am learning so much about gender.

oh thank you!!! thank you so much for sending this and asking. i am always here for questions and thank you for having an open heart and a kind soul. i know sometimes it can be intimidating to learn – and it shouldnt be. we live in a very divided world right now, and i wish people would be more receptive to questions and bridge building.

it is my personal philosophy there is a difference between anger and hate – anger can be channeled into action and example and good. hate makes you have a commonality with all the other evil sectors in this world and i refuse to be a part of it.

as for nonbinary gender – basically this is an umbrella term which means “is not male or female”. nonbinary people are included under the T or “trans” letter in LGBTQ because their assigned sex (AFAB, AMAB assigned female/male at birth) does not align with their gender. however, many nonbinary people do not consider themselves trans and consider themselves simply nonbinary. but many do consider themselves trans. it is up to personal choice.

there are several nonbinary genders: agender (feeling like one does not have a gender at all, genderless), genderfluid (fluid gender which switches to more female or male depending), genderqueer (a catchall term for many of these identities or some combined), nonbinary (feeling neither totally male or female, or feeling both, or feeling both but one more than the other, or feeling a new gender which is male/female combined), Two Spirit (a term specifically for use only for certain people from various indigenous societies/cultures which describes a lauded subset of people who have two genders or a conduit between genders), demigender (feeling partially male or female), etc. the list goes on.

i know a lot of people will scoff at this and think - “oh that isnt REAL” “there are only two genders”. well guess what? it is real. it has been my life for literally as long as i can remember back into childhood. it wasn’t until a few years ago i discovered the term for it, and it wasn’t until last week that i decided i want to use gender neutral pronouns. i remember one day when i was in highschool i asked myself “am i trans??” i remember being so scared i cried for a day and repressed it so hard. i have never aligned or fit in in that way. i remember telling my mom as a kid i wasn’t a boy or a girl. i remember always struggling so hard trying to decide who to be. i remember doing a google search as a kid and reading about Two Spirit people of various indigenous cultures and thinking — my god. it’s “me”. it was the first thing i ever saw that spoke to an understanding of my identity, and i felt such immense comfort i cant even describe it to you.

but now, after coming out to myself and the world i am literally the happiest with myself i have ever been in my entire life. i finally feel like i am not living inside myself, that when people meet me they know exactly who i am because im not hiding it anymore. my whole life i always had this little voice in my head saying “the person they think they are meeting/seeing isnt the whole you and they will never really know you, no one does”. i am “out” to my family and friends who matter and i am so proud of myself. im not afraid of being visible. in fact, i want to promote it.

im a future doctor and i can tell you with 100% certainty there is biological basis for separation of gender and sex. whether it it hormone levels, chromosomal activity, genome structure, brain chemistry, brain physiology and anatomy, or likely an infinitely complex amalgamation of all that and more. but one doesnt have to be a doctor to have credit in saying this: i can tell you, just as me, a nonbinary person - i am real. and i dont want to hide or suffocate anymore. society’s rules and binaries are truly blind. they leave out so, so many people. and we are at a revolution in our culture right now that i hope is going to change that exclusion forever. i hope people will see other people free and realize the strictures and rules they were brought up to live behind arent all that exists.

i always say it like this: if you are cisgender (a person whose gender matches their sex at birth) it is not your job to “understand” a trans or nonbinary person. because you literally cant. you can’t pass judgment on something you literally cannot experience. a cisgendered person’s brain is not built with the chemistry/function of someone who experiences a nonbinary life. there is nothing wrong with that. but the job of a cisgendered person is to say: “i will never understand what that feels like, but i will -believe- it is real because trans and nonbinary people have the dignity of personhood, they are PEOPLE, just like me, and if they tell me this is how their bodies work it must be how it is working inside of them.”

and one more thing - gender identity has nothing to do with gender presentation. which means, a nonbinary person who dresses femme, wears make up and has long hair is just as nonbinary as a masculine presenting nonbinary or androgynous nonbinary person. a cisgendered woman who wears tshirts and baseball hats because that is what makes her comfortable is still a woman. a cisgenderd man who wears makeup is still a man. a trans woman who wears suits is still a woman. a transman who likes makeup is still a man. your gender is in your head, your sex/genitals are in your pants, and your aesthetic preference is just how you hapoen to like to decorate your body.

sexual orientation is separate from all of this, and is simply who you are attracted to. a cisgendered woman can be attracted to women: lesbian, poly, pan, bi. a nonbinary person can be bi, pan, poly too. a transman can also be bi, gay, pan, asexual, etc. a cisgendered man can be hetero or gay.

dysphoria is psychological and physical discomfort with ones sex/genitals/body/body function because it does not align with one’s gender. some trans/nonbinary people experience and many dont! so for instance as a nonbinary person i sometimes get intense dysphoria over my chest (breasts) and menstruation. more often than not i deal with it, sometimes im even proud of it, i am proud of surviving as a female-bodied person in this misogynistic world! im proud of the perspective it gives me on humanity. but if i could get rid of them would i? most days, most likely! ive always wanted to get rid of my breasts, i legit hate them. but some days i can deal. i console myself by saying all genitals are homologous to each other - male and female gentials are essentially the reverse of one another and so the same. they dont dictate who you are. if a woman with cancer gets an oophrectomy does thay make her not a woman anymore? of course not! if a man has his testicles removed is he no longer a man? am i a woman because i have a vagina? nope! gender isn’t one’s body. as a nonbinary pansexual person my identity is pretty firmly in the grey area lol. i consider myself an attractive androgynous. i am proud of who i am and what i look like, even when im not totally content.

i hope some of this helps and i hope you will spread acceptance! sorry this got so long but i wanted to give a real answer. always feel free to ask anything else, weird or not weird, i promise i wont get offended. :)

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