#now i see it's just a standard bad start to what's going to go terribly | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

186-3 · 6 months

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courting antisemitism

so i recently decided to take a look at the latest stonetoss comics (probably because i love suffering). and while i was expecting some content on the israel palestine conflict, what i did not expect was how... standard it seemed. well, most of it at least, but i'll get to that in a second.

for context, if you don't know what stonetoss is, it's a (poorly drawn) webcomic known for having radical alt-right views - meaning it's incredibly racist, homophobic, transphobic, islamophobic, antisemitic. all that fun stuff.

so while i was expecting to see bad stuff, one of the first things i saw on the topic of israel was this:

terrible art aside, this comic is making a point that i usually see in left wing circles: that israel is pinkwashing genocide.

curious if there was more like this, i kept looking, and the comic right before that one was this:

again, this makes points that i usually see in left wing circles. that american healthcare is crazy expensive, that canada tells poor people to commit suicide, and that israel is bombing hospitals.

why does stonetoss, this well known alt-right nutjob, now seem to be bringing up left-wing talking points?

curious, i kept going deeper:

well this is... odd. clearly, stonetoss is trying to say that israel is on another level of bad, even worse than russia, iran, and north korea. i can possibly see someone on the left making the argument that the russian invasion of ukraine isn't as bad as what israel is doing in gaza, or that at least north korea isn't invading any other countries, but... iran??? the country that has a police force designed to enforce religious law, and gets away with murdering women who do not properly cover their hair? the country that props up paramilitary groups in countries all over the middle east, including lebanon, yemen, and yes, palestine?? that's completely ridiculous

but, given how much more israel is in the news nowadays than any of these other countries, i could see why someone would buy this

and now, we're starting to get to the crux of what stonetoss is trying to do. when someone sees this, they might be inclined to agree with it. they might begin to think that israel is the worst country on the planet

and that might not seem so bad at first. but the more you hate israel, especially irrationally, the more you feel allowed to dehumanize those who support it. the more you might be willing to agree with this comic, which came out two days prior to the one above

this comic says that jews, as a whole have no desire to exist with other people. it is blatantly antisemitic

i'm sure you could imagine some young leftist who sees the comics above this one and thinks, "this guy makes some good points". and then, when they get to this one, they might realize that this is antisemitism

or, they may not.

and that would start them down the road to becoming an antisemite.

this is what stonetoss and other alt-right nutjobs are hoping to achieve. to take left wing fury at israel, and direct it at jews.

we saw it with those neo-nazis at the palestine rally, and we're seeing it again here.

and if you've found yourself agreeing with what stonetoss has said so far, i would like you to see the last comic stonetoss put out before october 7th:

this horrifically racist comic is in reference to an environmental activist who was murdered by a black man in early october. this blatantly racist garbage is the kind of stuff stonetoss usually puts out.

but as soon as october 7th happened? these were his next two comics:

stonetoss completely changed the comic's tone as soon as the current crisis started. why?

to get as many people as possible to get on board with hating jews.

and i know many of you might be thinking that "well, everyone knows that stonetoss is racist garbage. nobody is going to fall for this"

except, as we saw with the neo-nazis at the rally for palestine, it's not always that obvious who the antisemites are and who is just rallying for peace. they are often a lot better at disguising it than stonetoss is.

AND EVERYONE NEEDS TO BE AWARE OF THAT

EVERYONE, no matter HOW much experience you have, can fall victim to propoganda. EVERYONE needs to be aware of what people around them are saying, and able to pick out hateful rhetoric, because even the stuff that is just kind of toeing the line of what's hateful is still putting your foot in the door

be cautious, everyone. and stomp out hate where you see it.

#israel #palestine #stonetoss #racism #antisemitism #tw racism #tw antisemitism #jumblr #rant #long post

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fanstuffrantings · 9 months

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A few things about Astarion that I need people to think about outside of him simply being flirty and attractive (since people keep reducing him to his sex scenes):

His route has a heavy focus on emotional intimacy and consent. You can sleep with him sure, but if in-between acts 2 and 3 you learn nothing about him and pressure him into having sex with you then you're not understanding his character and he'll only see you as someone who wants his body.

Ascended astarion is his bad/dark ending. I know people love it when he's powerful and ascended/durge is a relationship people love and I'm not here to say that's wrong or that you're a terrible person for doing it. But stop arguing that it's his happy ending, or that he's better for it when he literally loses himself and in a nonascended version he'll say he could feel himself changing in ways he didn't like. He becomes another cazador. He only truly expresses himself and feels release if he kills Cazador and doesn't ascend.

Unless you do the drow twin scene prior to beating Cazador you're not forcing him into anything. He gives approval for going through with it. Do I think he regrets it after because he realizes he was biting off too much too early? Yes. But it's literally him learning his boundaries and understanding what he is and isn't comfortable with. He's only just starting to be able to fully choose what he wants, sometimes you make mistakes. It's part of the process.

Astarion died young before he fully matured as an elf, but he wasn't a child. He was a magistrate in the city, he had a fully functioning brain. But just because he was an adult by human standards when he died doesn't make it any less heartbreaking. People dying in their 30s is still tragically young. And even more so for an elf.

(This one doesn't come up as often) he doesn't hate Gale, he is very much flirting with and attracted to Gale at in act 1 if you bring them around. In fact Shadowheart and Wyll are the only ones he has dislike for at any point and as the story goes he warms up to everyone. All the companions care for each other and it's one of the best found families in video games.

There are several companions I feel large portions of the fandom just misunderstand/don't fully read into and it's tiring because the devs made each one so layered and interesting. I just feel like since Astarion is essentially the face of the game now, he's the one who constantly gets boiled down to his most surface level qualities with little regard for his story as a whole.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 #molten rambles

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inbarfink · 9 months

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Okay, so I already wrote a bunch of stuff about how that scene, although it is really sweet, is also kind of a Bad Sign for Simon - how he refuses to learn the Obvious Lesson from the Winterworld adventure (that being the Ice King again is probably a really really bad idea). But I want to talk about it also a little more about what it means for Fionna’s character as well.

Because while sitting around and wallowing in self-loathing is probably bad for Fionna, especially after being told that she shouldn't be allowed to exist, and Simon is right to try and get her out of her funk. It's also still worthwhile for Fionna to have some introspection about the Consequences of Her Actions. Because she and Cake really did not consider them at all at first. They have a sense of morality and an instinct towards heroism, but they also tend to kinda forget the fantastical worlds they visit don’t exist entirely for their fantasy and have kind of a Protagonist-Centered-Morality fallacy.

Most obviously you can see it in the market in Ooo. How Cake, in her excitement, damaged and hurt and even killed

A bunch of innocent marketgoers without even noticing. And then Fionna immediately jumped to Cake’s defense against these ‘weirdos’, who were actually just normal kinda-righteously-angry Oooian citizens.

It’s actually very similar to the whole Winterworld situation. Fionna’s assumption that she’s automatically the hero and protagonist of the story and black-and-white view of the situation and her tendency to kick ass first and ask questions later meant that she just recklessly injured a lot of innocent people.

(It might’ve been worse actually cause at least in Winterworld she was at least manipulated by an evil Wizard)

Fionna and Cake clearly have a great potential for heroism, but they do need to be a bit more considerate of the situation and people around them. And it does make sense considering that from their perspective - they’ve been living a very ordinary life up until now (and Cake was literally an animal. A very clever animal, but still not bound by the same standards of morality as the talking animals in Ooo). Action and adventure and fantasy stuff has been purely the realm of daydream and video games for them - and Fionna literally speaks about it in these terms.

(also, Fionna's Main Character Syndrome was undoubtedly validated when God literally told her that she was created to be the main character of her universe)

So yeah, it takes them some time to really process how to be heroes - they need to grapple with questions that Finn and Jake already kinda dealt with seventeen years ago. And actually a lot of those; how to resolve a situation without necessarily using violence, when does a 'villain' actually deserve sympathy and kindness, the importance of the larger context of any given conflict... their confrontations with Ice King all played a big part in that. It was never just him, but he was still a very major part.

And for Fionna and Cake right now, learning these lessons require some amount of personal introspection. So while it was a sweet attempt at comforting, I dunno if Simon’s little ‘the only problem with that universe is that this Alternative Me was terrible because he didn’t even acknowledge or remember Betty as the love of our life and the light of my entire universe’ thing is actually Good.

I’m not quite sure Simon is the best person to teach Fionna and Cake heroism 101, because he is so focused on the Crown Quest as the thing that brings back Meaning to his life, and because his fatherly instincts just kinda go “Sad Young Person???? MUST GIVE COMFORT!” and also on account of the kidnapping.

I’m sure Fionna is going to become the heroine she dreams about eventually, it’s just going to be a bumpy ride. The best we can hope for is that they accept Simon’s comfort, that she doesn't start believing that she is nothing but an Error for the entire universe like the Scarab claims, but don’t necessarily listen to all of Simon's his words either.

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luci-is-a-bitch-x3x · 5 months

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Obey Me! Younger Brothers react to: Mc telling them "You look so handsome when you lie to me."

Other parts can be found here: Older Brothers Reaction

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Welcome! to another part of this adventure! The characters may not be how you imagine! I apologize for any poor jokes, bad spelling, and terrible grammar. Without further ado, please enjoy the content. ♡

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Satan's reaction

Satan and Mc were hanging out in HoL's library, Satan was currently engulfed in a book, Mc had been reading, but a particular thought had caused them to stop reading. Mc couldn't stop thinking about the thought, they stare at Satan questioning if they should act on the thought or not. See Mc usually is one step behind Satan when it comes to flirting. Satan is a romantic he's constantly flustering Mc, Mc would like to make Satan flustered at least once! The countless times he's left Mc blushing and stuttering for some come back, its time for Mc's revenge!

Mc gives themself a pep talk and then clears their throat. 'Satan can I ask you a question?' Satan's eyes dart up from the book he'd been reading, as Satan makes eye contact with Mc, Mc can see his emerald eyes glisten under the library lights. Satan's practically beaming with curiosity, but he holds his composure well. Sending Mc a calm comforting smile before responding to their question- "By all means ask away, you've piqued my interest after all." Satan's calm smile is now more of a teasing intrigued grin, he unintentionally scooted to the edge of the seat he's sitting in. Almost looking like a teen girl about to hear about gossip. 'Would you love me more if I was a cat?' Mc knew the answer, of course Satan would, but Mc also knew Satan wouldn't say that to them, he wouldnt want to hurt their feelings. Satan teasing grin flaters and he is silent for a couple of minutes, Mc can practically hear the cogs in his brain turning as he tries to think of a response. "....Of course not.." Satan finally answers, though he sounds like he's lying or unsure. Mc can't help but smile at his answer, Mc's plan was working just as they thought it would.

'You look so handsome when you lie to me Satan.' Mc says with a grin. Satan goes to argue, he wasnt completely lying Mc wouldn't be Mc if they were a cat, but he quickly realized Mc called him handsome. Satan blushes and does his little ´how dare you fluster me` scoff, Mc can tell he is thinking hard of some response. Satan sits there mouth formed in a line as his brain cogs start turning into overdrive. How is Satan supposed to come up with a response to that? The smoothness of Mc's action makes Satan realize they've been planning this for weeks! They thought ahead and knew his answer before he even answered. Satan blushes more as he realizes hes been out done for the day, so he stands up and mutters a quick "..that was a good one..but I'll have a better one next time.." Before he rushes out of the library headed to his room to plot his revenge. Satan enjoyed hearing Mc call him handsome but he enjoys the fun flirting competition the two have going on more.

Asmodeus's Reaction:

Mc and Asmo we're hanging out and doing random things together like always. Asmo decided to snap a few pictures of the two together to put on his Devilgram. Just as anyone does when posting pictures the two go through the pictures taken together to find ones they both can agree to post. The pictures all look great, Mc and Asmo both are looking fantastic, but everyone can be picky sometimes when it comes to what kind of photos of themselves they want online. Asmo has a reputation to uphold as the Devildom's most beautiful demon, and Mc is a human..so human world standards can be life changing.

Asmo and Mc usually can choose a photo or a few photos just fine, but occasionally a small argument breaks out. As they go through the photos Asmo chooses his favorite, but it happens to be a photo that Mc doesn't like the way they look in. Asmo tries to make Mc feel better, reassuring them that they look fine, "..come on hon, you look absolutely stunning." Despite Asmo's best attempt, his compliments do not change Mc's mind, they are dead set on the photo he chose not being the one posted. Asmo being Asmo though he doesn't listen, he looks the best in that photo so he has to post it! Asmo "secretly" begins to edit the photo and prepare it to post on his Devilgram. Mc takes one glance at Asmo trying to hide his D.D.D and instantly knows he's trying to post the photo they said they didn't want posted. Mc sighs and asks, "Asmo are you posting that photo?" Even though they already know the answer. Asmo glances up from his D.D.D and gives Mc an innocent smile. "..I'm not posting any yet..I'm just scrolling on Devilgram." Asmo lies through his teeth, feigning innocence.

Mc shakes their head with a smile and says, 'you look so handsome when you lie to me Asmo.' Asmo's fake innocent smile falters and he blushes a little. Asmo instantly walks over to Mc to give them a hug as he says, "oh I'm sorry hon, but I look the best in that photo! You look amazing too! It's the perfect photo to captivate how amazing we look together!" Asmo says clearly still wanting to post the photo. Mc just sighs and says something like "you look handsome in any photo', unlike Asmo, Mc's compliments seem to do the trick as Asmo slowly begins to choose a different photo, one that Mc is okay with him posting to his Devilgram. It becomes a trick that Mc can use often if they have a photo they don't want him posting, just compliment him until he changes his mind. Bonus points if Mc specifically points out how good he looks in the photo they want posted.

Beelzebub's Reaction:

Mc had been saving a snack for a few days, they even hid it really well in the fridge! They are in their room doing R.A.D homework when they suddenly start feeling hungry, so they go to the kitchen to get their snack. When they get to the kitchen they aren't exactly surprised to find Beel in the kitchen already. Beel has his face stuffed with food as usual but he doesn't greet Mc like he usually would, instead he quickly turns away from Mc and even stuffs the wrapper of whatever he's eating into his mouth, proceeding to eat it as well. He cannonly eats literal plates so don't worry bout him. Mc was able to catch a small glimpse of the wrapper before Beel stuffed it into his mouth, and Mc is almost positive it's the wrapper to the snack they had been saving.

They couldn't really be mad at Beel, he gets hungry man, but they still pretend to be upset. They cross their arms as they stare at Beel suspiciously, '..Beel what're you eating.?' Mc asks, even though they pretty much already know. Beel's face flushes red out of embarrassment and he continues to be turned away from Mc, "...nothing.." Beel says with a mouth full of food, the poor mans is just making his case worse. Mc has to fight off a smile, still trying to pretend to be upset, the give him an even more suspicious and fake stern look, '..you wouldn't happen to be eating my snack would you?' Mc asks knowingly, basically resisting the urge to bust out laughing, they couldn't though, they had to execute their plan. Beel swallows before glancing Mc's way, the crumbs of Mc's snack is still on his face, making it obvious that he's the culprit. "...no...it was something else.." Beel mutters quietly, not even making eye contact anymore, probably the worst liar out of all the brothers.

Mc smiles at him knowingly while saying, 'you look so handsome when you lie to me Beel.' Beel's face immediately flushed a dark shade of red, if he still had the food in his mouth he probably would have choked in Surprise, he enjoys mc calling him handsome, but unlike his brothers he mainly hears Mc calling him out on lying. "...I'm sorry Mc..it just looked so good..I'll buy you a new one.." Beel says apologetically, looking at the ground like a puppy who got caught in the trash by its owner. Mc just laughs and shakes their head while saying, 'its okay Beel I'm just teasing, how about we both go out and get a new one together?' Beel seems to like that suggestion as he smiles widely and mutters something about "food is always better when eating with you, Mc." So, the two head out to get a snack, they end up with lots of snacks because Beel got hungry on the walk to the store, but both Mc and Beel had a good time together.

Belphegor's Reaction:

A new movie has come out in the Devildom, Mc is super excited to watch it, and Mc specifically said they are excited to watch it with Belphie. Belphie isn't particularly fond of the type of movie it is, but he wants to make Mc happy and sees it as an opportunity to rest his head in Mc's lap and nap. The two get set up in Mc's room to watch the movie together, they have snack, blankets, all the necessities for a good movie night together. Belphie even promised Mc that he would stay up and watch the entire movie with Mc. The movie starts and Belphie stays awake for awhile, barely even watching the movie, just being up soc wouldn't be upset. However as the movie gets to the half way mark it becomes increasingly hard for the Avatar of Sloth to stay awake. The movie was honestly a little boring and Mc's lap was just so comfortable! Belphie tries his hardest to stay up, he promised Mc after all, but as the movie continues to drone on he decides it might not be that bad to just rest his eyes a little. Belphie figures Mc will be paying too much attention and won't even notice so he could nap for a few minutes and then get back up without Mc even knowing.

He was wrong though, as soon as he closes his eyes Mc notices. 'I thought you were going to stay up and watch the whole movie with me?' Mc asks confusedly, Belphie had promised and all. Belphie gives a half-assed response, not even opening his eyes, "I am staying up, I'm just resting my eyes not sleeping" Belphie mumbles, you can hear the tiredness in his voice. Mc sighs and allows him to lay there for a bit "resting his eyes" while they continue watching the movie. After a few minutes Mc glances back down at Belphie resting in their lap, Mc figures Belphie is probably asleep so they quietly ask, 'are you sleeping yet?' Belphie grumbles in response, pushing closer to Mc's body and not opening his eyes, "no. I'm not even close to falling asleep" Belphie says, though he's completely lying, you can tell by the sound of his voice that he's about to fall asleep at any second.

Mc laughs softly at the sloth demon's determination to pretend to not be falling asleep, Mc smiles down at the half asleep demon and says, 'you look so handsome when you lie to me Belphie' Belphie was about to fall asleep until he heard Mc's statement, he shoots up staring at them with hazy tired but wide eyes, his face instantly starts to heat up due to being flustered by Mc's statement. Belphie embarrassed and flustered grumbles in response, "I wasn't lying. I wasn't even going to fall asleep." Belphie was still lying, he didn't want to admit he was sleeping and be teased or flustered by Mc even more. Belphie changes his position instead of laying on Mc's lap he sits next to him and rests his head on their shoulder, but for the rest of the movie he is up and actually watching the movie. Belphie would never admit it to Mc but that was one of the first times something's ever woken him up that fast and made him feel that energetic, he was able to stay up for awhile afterwards in all honesty. So even though Belphie won't tell Mc he likes hearing them call him handsome, Mc should definitely do it again.

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Thats all for now babes! Hope you enjoyed!! ♡ This is not proofread. Feel free to comment or reblog any thoughts or any add ons you have! Sorry this part took so long to post, I had writers block for Asmo's part. Anyways more contents coming soon so Stay Tuned! Stay Safe! & Stay Groovy Scooby!

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⟡˙⋆Masterlist⋆˙⟡

#obey me thoughts #obey me drabble #obey me imagines #obey me x reader #obey me fluff #obey me x reader fluff #obey me x mc #om satan #om asmodeus #om beelzebub #om belphegor #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me beel #obey me belphie #not proofread

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leqonsluv3r · 15 days

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hi! i love your writing sm so i wanted to ask you if you could do a short fic about leon’s first day at the rpd and reader is a detective or someone who works at the rpd and they become friends or something else <3

just the thought of leon being silly and shy about the little party they made just for him to say “welcome” makes my heart skip a beat……..

anyways have a good day! <33

so high school

—leon joins the police department and you just know that he’s going to be everything to you, a blurb

masterlist taglist

an: i hope this is what you had in mind <33 i left it open ended at the ending for your guys imagination. thank you guys again for 900, i love you all. sorry it’s taking me so long to get out all my requests. they’re open again in my bio. pls reblog, comment and interact to support your writers.

the first thing you thought of when you saw leon was how he was too cute to be a cop. that was your first thought, your second was how is this man single.

you didn’t know he was single at first, but for his entry papers, it didn’t say anything about a spouse or an emergency contact girlfriend. which made you very, very happy.

he was a sweetheart, he left a lasting impression on you and you didn’t know how to handle it. helping you carry files to the file room and taking desk duty in stride.

he was humble, sweet and outgoing.

you didn’t really see any faults in him, not at all. most guys you did date in the past, you could see the red flags from a mile away. like a big ugly tattoo on their forehead that just said: STAY AWAY! IM TERRIBLE!

but with leon, it wasn’t like that.

he didn’t ever say anything negative about anyone, he didn’t mention hating being on desk duty. he just simply lived and did his job, same as you. it made you feel lighter being around him. especially getting to know him, getting an idea of him.

you liked him a lot.

you realized that when you agreed to host his welcome party two weeks after he had been hired, most entry coordinators didn’t want too. but you practically jumped at the opportunity to give him his dream welcome party into the unit.

you planned it all out, you went a little overboard. which wasn’t always a bad thing but in this case…it was extreme.

you never did this for any of the other rookies welcome parties you helped organized, you never went this far. blue and yellow balloons, a large chocolate cake, a big banner that you custom designed. all made for leon and based on his tastes over the last two weeks you’d known him.

but when he arrives, a surprise, he sees all the effort. he sees all the decorations and he sees you. he never had felt so welcome in his entire life.

his mom never even put this much effort into his birthday party’s when he was a kid. so his surprise wasn’t fake, it was real and it was written all over his face as he scanned his room of coworkers leading all the way to you.

you, you were so welcoming. so goddamn magnificent that it made his head spin, you got him everything he wanted right down to a T. all the decorations, the cake…the banner.

it was everything.

you were everything, he’d had a crush on you the first day he started. the first day he saw you and you swiped him up into your world. he felt like he was on a different planet half the time when he was with you.

he had to tell you, he owed it to you.

after all, you did throw him an amazing welcome party.

he made his way to you half-way through the party. you were just so gorgeous and he liked you so much, god. you were so…he couldn’t even put words to it.

if he had to pick a dream girl, it would be you.

and he didn’t even realize he had those standards until you came into his life, making it turn from a dull throbbing gray to a beautiful multicolored world. one that used to be so drab for him but now…

now it gave him purpose.

and if you rejected him, at least he got to say he tried. got to say that he attempted to reach your heart, your mind…just you.

he might look like an idiot if you said no, but at least he was attempting. he was trying to make that attempt to confess and not be a coward in front of people like he usually was.

“you did this all for me? i knew you were up to something.” he says with a small smirk on his face when he approaches you. his blue eyes scanning you with nothing but appreciation. something that made butterflies flutter in your belly.

you shrugged innocently, your face heating up into flames. “i just wanted to give you a good welcome. you deserved it, especially when you got saddled with desk duty.” you crack a smile up at him, your eyes never leaving his.

“i don’t mind desk duty. my view is pretty great.” he says with a subtle teasing smirk as he looks down at you, you knew that his desk was a few over from his and he could look directly at you. you bite on your bottom lip and your cheeks flush a deeper scarlet.

you look up at him, “i’m glad you like it,” you gesture to the party around you. all your coworkers talking and the decorations. “i worked hard…i just wanted you to feel welcome.”

he smiles widely, dimples and all. “it worked, i feel welcome. you’ve made me feel welcome.” he feels himself admitting as his blue sparkling eyes rove over you.

you feel your body become hot beneath your pencil skirt and blouse, “uhm, i-i yeah, well…” you try to say but fail miserably, gnawing on your bottom lip.

“anyways,” he saved you with a small smile, tilting his head down to look into your eyes. “i was thinking that maybe we could…uhm, go out sometime?” he managed to get out. he felt like it was hot in here, like his uniform was strangling him.

your heart was beating out of your chest, you blinked up at him. you almost felt like you could pinch yourself because this couldn’t be real. he couldn’t be asking her out, he couldn’t like you like you liked him.

“uhm, me…me? you mean me right?” you swallow, your mouth suddenly dry despite the punch you were holding in your hand. he smiles beautifully at you, showcasing his cute cheeks and his straight teeth, “yeah, i was talking to you. unless you see any other beautiful office managers around here?” he says with a small scan of his blue eyes over your frame.

you felt like you were about to melt into a puddle on the floor. his words and his eyes, dear god.

you straighten your spine, “i’d…i’d love too.” you manage to get out with a small gnaw on her bottom lip to hold back the smile threatening to beam on her face.

he feels relief flood over him, the amount of it was overwhelming. you had no idea how much he needed to hear those words from your lips. to hear you say that you wanted to go out with him.

“that’s-thats cool, yeah. i’m…i’ve been wanting to ask you that for a while.” he admits with a small quirk of his lips, feeling the nerves frazzle out of his body and short circuit his brain.

you can’t help the smile and blush that coats your cheeks, to feel the liking that was reciprocated by him. even after throwing him this party, it was still nice to know where you stood with him.

but you knew now.

“me too.” you blush as you keep your eyes on him, the party continued around them but they stayed deep in their conversation. like it would pain either of them to tear the attention away from each-other for five seconds.

“i’ve wanted…to ask you out, but ive been too nervous. i didn’t know how you would react.” you say softly as you sip on your drink, trying to find something else to focus on besides the red on your cheeks and the thrumming of your heart.

he smiles gently, “your too pretty to be nervous. but i would’ve said yes.” he says with a small wink in her direction, he had no idea where this confidence was coming from but he was glad he found it in this moment.

you look down at your punch in your hands, trying to will your heart to relax for five seconds. you were going to go out on a date with him. you were talking to him. he liked his welcome party…he was flirting with you.

it was safe to say you had him.

and he had you.

“i can’t wait for our date.” you say softly, looking up in his direction. your eyes gleaming a little as you stared at him, with something bordering on fascination and excitement.

he grins sheepishly and looks down at you, taking a small step closer. “me either. your gonna look so beautiful. your always beautiful but…i bet you look even better out of work clothes.” he says with a small gesture of his blue eyes up and down your frame.

you tuck some of your hair behind your ear, “thank you.” you breathe out some air, trying to calm the nerves and the erratic beating out of your chest at his compliment, his eyes. just everything about him.

it made you feel like you were a giddy high schooler with a crush. like you were back in school and you were talking to a guy you were so enamored with, it just made sense with leon. you were so comfortable around him but your feelings made you feel like a frazzled teenager.

like you were back where you once were, it was exciting.

you knew he was the one, even if you hadn’t had the first date yet. you just had a gut feeling.

and your gut was always right.

taglist: @elihii @heartsforvin @argreion @sqiim @adollrable @leonkennedygvrl @cherubify @porcelainseashore @squazmine (if you wanna be added interact with the link at the beginning <33)

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 days

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AITA for responding honestly on a poll?

Someone I follow but am not friends with recently made a poll that asked “What do you think of my writing?”

The options were something like. 1) Love it! 2) I like it/it’s alright 4) Hate it and I hate you and 5) Haven’t read it.

Now. I don’t follow this person for their writing, but I HAVE read it, and… in my personal opinion, it’s terrible. Absolutely not my taste and absolutely not up to my personal standards. I’m sure there’s plenty of reasons that other people enjoy it, but those reasons are not clear to me.

Anyway, I didn’t want to lie on the poll. Obviously I don’t hate the person who made it but I assumed the “and I hate you” was to be silly, like when people add an option on a poll thats like “No wtf thats weird” even though most people that chose that don’t think it’s weird. So either way I voted “I hate it” but if I actually was able to tell the person themselves I’d probably say more “It’s definitely not my thing” but that was the closest option. I felt a little bad because of the harsh wording but I didn’t think too much of it.

Anyway, a week goes by, they see the results. It was mostly “Never read it”s and “I love it”s with a good amount of “It’s alright” and just a small amount of “I hate it”. However, even though it was the lowest answer, they saw the amount of people who voted that (I think around 5% with a sizable sample size) and it completely devastated them.

They started going off about how rude it was and how shocked they were that so many of their followers hated them. They asked why people would even follow them if they hate them. I started panicking and sent them an anon or two explaining that I didn’t actually hate them, I just wasn’t into their writing and that was the closest answer given — they responded by saying “Just don’t vote then”. I thought it was a little ridiculous to make a poll asking what people thought of their writing but not want people to say anything negative — I understand not wanting constructive or negative criticism but they literally asked.

But I still feel really bad and I’m not sure if I should have just lied or ignored the poll altogether. Obviously I’m not the only one who voted that but still. Was I wrong?

#aita #am i the asshole

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dorianbrightmusic · 7 months

Text

i'm seeing a lot of Pokémon SV DLC analyses where people say 'Oh, Kieran's fixation on Ogrepon is because he sees it as a path to strength; Carmine's bullied him long enough that his shield against admitting his weakness to himself is adoring a legendary creature'. And don't get me wrong – these interpretations certainly hold water – but I've actually been working from basically the opposite angle for all this time.

By all means, Kieran idolises strength, but he inhabits Carmine's shadow – he's the weak sibling, and probably has been for a long time. Yet, rather than fixate on the fantastical power of the Loyal Three, he identifies himself with Ogrepon – the downtrodden, ostracised creature cast out to eke out a subsistence. A terrible demon that wasn't quite terrible enough to cause anyone any lasting harm. The creature defeated by heroes, rather than the perfect, heroic figureheads themselves. He's enamoured with the downtrodden; he sees himself in its grief, in its being cast out and excluded. He's been cast out and excluded all his life (and he can't be a bad person, right? It's not fair – he's hated senselessly, surely, rather than for some reason?) – he sees himself as harmless; so the ogre, too, must be harmless, mis-blamed. Strength is thus in resistance; in growing a shell to tolerate others' inexplicable cruelty. So Kieran looks to Ogerpon, and he thinks that the meek shall inherit the earth, and it gives him the strength to tolerate long nights with poor company. Others are villains – not him, not this creature – and he's safe in the knowledge that at the end of the day, at least an ogre can go down in mythology as the putative sole survivor of its trials.

In this sense, Kieran's like Penny – he finds himself in a position of weakness, of being victimised, and forms himself an armour of being an underdog, of being the thing that bites back. Yet while Penny's position is that the underdog might muster the strength to bite back and restore justice, Kieran's view is that at least the underdog was worth loving. He's inert and preoccupied with his inertia. He can't understand that maybe he could be a human, with the capacity to grow, the capacity to sin. And when Carmine is cruel to him, he reaffirms his own contrarian mindset more – she says I am worth little for my weakness, so my weakness is all I am worth; my weakness is my strength.

And yet he chases strength, because he has to to survive. So when the player comes by, and supports him, maybe he has the safety to walk away from his preoccupation with being an underdog, to enjoy strength for strength's sake. And then, he starts losing, but this time, there are stakes, since he can't just withdraw and be consoled by the fact that withdrawing is right, is right, is right. Thus, he must get stronger. And then, when Ogerpon turns out to favour Juliana, who's become Kieran's idol for all that strength means, rather than Kieran, who's Kieran's selfsame designated weaklingpatheticscumidiot——well, what can Kieran do but fracture, since his whole ideology, his whole premonition that he might have the right to inherit the earth, has been fractured? And, under stress, he pivots from one extreme to the other. All he knows is that weakness is now unbearable. He must get stronger. Must get stronger. Must get stronger—because otherwise he's doomed, he's nothing. He has no myth to dissolve his identity in any longer, so he reshapes himself around the only other standard he's ever known. And it twists him and it breaks him into tiny pieces, because suddenly, the last thing he can bear to be is Kieran: Kieran, the downtrodden and meek boy. He has to flip on his axis; he must become the designated villain of his story by popular imagination, or else be subsumed in the fact that he's going to die someday without any place in the world. He has to play a part, because he's been consigned to one so long, and he can't think of anything other than heroes and villains, enemies and martyrs. He can't be the bad guy. Strength is now goodness; weakness is now evil. And he can't reconcile who he thought he was with who he must become, and as a result, all he can do is try to destroy the person who's destroyed his ideology.

#ngl the more i dive into kieran's character the more i worry about his mental health.#i do have a specific diagnosis in mind but it's not one i have and it's a stigmatised one so i wanna be really really careful here #still: let's just say 'black and white thinking' 'mutable identity' 'abandonment phobia' 'very rash when angry' 'emptiness'#and 'very verrrry reactive mood' – well if you know you know #anyway. he's my blorbo and he breaks my heart #pokemon sv #teal mask #the teal mask #kieran #pokemon kieran #pokémon #scarvio #scarvi #SV #scarlet and violet #pokémon scarlet #pokémon violet #pokemon scarlet #pokemon violet

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steves-strapcollection · 1 year

Note

47. “When I picture myself happy… It’s with you.” 💕💕

YES! I'm still working on asks from THIS ask game, and I absolutely will be happy to receive more (since I'm using these prompts as exercises to write short shit without context to overcome my pathological need to write So Much Context)

[ NOW ON AO3 ]

There was something distinctly heartbreaking about playing wingman for the guy who made you believe in the entire concept of soulmates, Eddie thinks as he leans against the trunk of Steve Harrington's Beemer. It's not even that he thinks they're soulmates, but what the dude has with Robin is really convincing. And maybe Eddie is pretty sure Steve is his soulmate, even platonically, even if that thought makes his pining ass want to vomit.

He refuses to pine after a straight man for eternity, and yet...

What's stupid is that Eddie is a shit wingman, so it doesn't even make sense that Steve keeps taking him out with him to bars and shit. Half the women that wanted to even approach Steve were afraid of Eddie, and the other half were fucking mean to him which lost Steve's favour immediately which... hey, Eddie couldn't complain too much about that.

But still, that meant that Steve was striking out every single time and Eddie was feeling bad about it because he was happy about it. He got to spend a whole evening with Steve and sometimes they would spend the night together because Eddie's place was closer and Steve was too tired to drive all the way home. Eddie could pretend this was a real date, that Steve Harrington was dating him.

Jesus H. Christ, he was pathetic.

Steve sighs next to him. "Why is this so hard?" he asks, and at Eddie's questioning look, Steve elaborates, "Dating, getting laid, whatever you wanna call it?"

Eddie huffs a laugh, and shrugs. "Well, I mean, I think I've got it worse in that department, Stevie," he mutters, taking a drag of his cigarette. Steve's known about him being gay for months now, which makes it even more wild that the man still shared a bed with him and took him out to bars almost every Friday night. Tossing his cigarette onto the asphalt and stubbing it out with his boot, Eddie asks, "What are you even looking for?"

Steve pauses, staring at the ground. "Someone who makes me happy, who gets me, who wants to be with me, the real me, y'know?" he asks without even looking at Eddie, which is good because Eddie's sure the way his heart was breaking would be visible from fucking outer space.

Me, that's me, Stevie. Choose me. That's what Eddie wants to say, to shout and scream and even stomp his feet a bit because it's not fucking fair. He's all those things and more and he wanted to be that for Steve.

"Think you might be putting too high of standards too early on these poor girls, Stevie," Eddie laughs instead, grinning crookedly over at Steve and stopping short at the intense gaze being leveled back at him.

"See, that's the thing, Eds. I'm starting to think I've been looking for that in all the wrong places," Steve says seriously, shifting so he's standing in front of Eddie.

And Eddie is sure he's dreaming. He's actually fast asleep and he's going to wake up literally any second and this was all just some terrible dream thought up by his awful, gay, pining, stupid brain. Because it actually sounds like Steve, the love of Eddie's life, is about to confess something huge to him.

"What makes you say that?" Eddie croaks out before clearing his throat, glancing at Steve's lips before meeting his eyes.

"I've always had these big dreams about my life, what it'd look like if I wanted to be happy, and before I always thought of these grand things that involve a wife and a whole pack of kids," Steve says and Eddie feels his already shattered heart break even more.

Eddie manages to laugh, though, even if what he really wants is to crawl into bed and cry. "Okay, so now you're raising the bar even higher on these poor girls?" Eddie asks, shoving Steve's shoulder with his fist.

Steve isn't swayed. "You don't get it, Eds, that's not what I want anymore," he says, running his hands back through his hair. "That isn't what I imagine when I think about being happy."

"Then what do you imagine?" Eddie asks because, apparently, he's a huge fucking masochist.

"Eds... you're really going to make me say it out loud?" Steve asks, almost teasingly, and then he steps just a little bit closer.

Eddie's heart stops, once again struck by how not real this has to be. "Yeah, I'm gonna need you to say it with your outside voice, Stevie," Eddie says. "I'm not a mind reader."

Steve sighs heavily and puts his hands on his hips as he visibly considers his next words carefully. Something comes over his expression that takes Eddie's breath away, something fierce and brave and beautiful, and now the full force of it was turning on him when Steve's eyes meet his.

"When I picture myself happy," Steve starts, stepping close enough that the heat radiating off of him begins to warm Eddie's chilled skin. Steve lifts a hand to cup Eddie's jaw as he says, "It's with you, Eds."

Eddie blinks owlishly at Steve. "What?"

"I think I'm--I've been into you for months, and when you came out to me I got so hopeful, like I actually maybe stood a chance, which is obviously stupid. Just because you're gay doesn't mean you're into me but still," Steve rambles a bit as Eddie tries to form a coherent thought. Steve chews on his bottom lip and asks, "Eds? What do you--is this, like, okay?"

Eddie slaps himself in the face, just hard enough to sting, and Steve jumps.

"Eddie, what the hell?" Steve asks, bewildered.

"Sorry, just checking that I'm not dreaming. Pinching wouldn't've been enough to wake me up from a dream this good," Eddie breathes, twisting his hand in the front of Steve's polo and pulling him close. "You mean that, Stevie? You want me?"

"More than I've wanted anything in my life," Steve confesses easily, and he stumbles when Eddie gently shoves him back.

"Then take me home and we can make out about it in private, yeah?" Eddie suggests, grinning as he scrambles to get into the passenger seat of the Beemer.

When Steve gets into the car, he's grinning, and Eddie leans across the center console. "One kiss for the road?" he asks, batting his lashes up at Steve.

"Absolutely," Steve agrees, and then their mouths slotted together perfectly, like they were made to be kissing each other all along.

And yeah, Eddie was really starting to believe in soulmates actually...

Thank you again for sending me this ask!!! Send me more of these fun prompts? Also, if you like my writing, please consider checking out writing blog -> @gerrystamour

#steddie #steve/eddie #steve x eddie #steddie ficlet #gerry writes #gerry drabbles

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tricktster · 1 year

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how long have you been getting burritoed... i love the thought of you guys being together for five years and you still fall for it every time

Slightly NSFW warning but the full backstory for the burritoing is honestly very sweet and i can take absolutely no credit for it being so.

so it has not been five years, it’s only been five months, but given that my tolerance for being in relationships can usually be measured in weeks, five months with me harboring every single desire to keep this going is saying something. but rest assured the burrito thing has always been a threat in this relationship. lemme explain.

see, i met my boyfriend the most romantic way a person can, in that i hopped on tinder one friday when I was bored and he was the most interesting person that night to ask me to grab a drink with him the following week. I agreed, with every expectation that this was going to be a one night stand situation. This was because I had already concluded I would probably sleep with him since he was hot and funny over tinder/text but also, more importantly, because I had decided to plunge back into the dating world after several years of being resolutely single by having what my roommate described as “a wanton winter,” which is a nicer way of saying that I was here to sleep around without any strings remotely attached. I had every intention of this being followed by a slutty spring, sexually-available summer, and perhaps even a fuckboi fall.

All this to say, I was not looking for an actual relationship when I agreed to “grab a drink” with the man who is now my boyfriend. In fact, even though he was categorically hunky all-round? I was by this point in my wanton winter not even optimistically hoping for a good time. I had recently re-discovered that hunky meant absolutely nothing, and was still haunted by memories of sleeping with an extremely attractive massage therapist who was not only terrible in bed but also read me a very bad poem that he’d written afterwards and started crying about the state of his life at one point and also his mom called like 11 times while he was over. Like, my expectations were subterranean.

Now given this background, i presumed that this guy would follow the established pattern set by every other guy i’d hooked up with during wanton winter; we’d go back to my place, fool around, he’d leave, and i’d get occasional “u up” texts from him for the next few weeks until one of us ghosted etc. so like it was a surprise - but certainly not an unpleasant one! - when he asked (a little nervously) post-hookup if he could stay the night. he didn’t want to impose, he explained, but he had a day shift the next morning and it was really late and his house was 24 minutes away and while he didn’t want to be presumptuous he’d thrown what he needed in a backpack just in case and also he wanted to cuddle and be big spoon.

well. this was a deviation. this possibly suggested more interest than just a one night stand.

ideologically i was opposed to the threat this posed to my no commitments wanton winter lifestyle but given that he was significantly cuter and funnier in person than he’d been online and also that he had just absolutely rocked my entire world for several hours(!!!) i was just like “yeah homie you are more than welcome to stay,” and decided against issuing my standard warning whenever anyone proposes sharing a bed with me that “I do not tolerate people attempting to cuddle me in my sleep well so don’t be hurt when you find me as far from you as physically possible tomorrow, and also you may be kicked in the process of me rolling away, and my toenails are inexplicably sharp so you may bleed.”

and then, you know, suddenly the alarm was going off, and he was extracting himself, unwounded, from the big spoon position that I had not felt the unconscious need to escape from all night, and I was just internally like “haha! i might be in trouble!”

that mighta done it on its own, honestly, the whole bit about him being the sole exception i have ever encountered to my instinctual need for space when i’m sleeping. but he was not done. he quietly got ready while i was mulling this development over in a state of half consciousness, and then? instead of slinking out into the barely-morning, that motherfucker very gently rearranged the bedclothes to actually cover me, gave me a kiss, said he’d text me when he got to work, and then the bastard tucked me in.

he then left me, the victim of the cutest goddamn nonsense that has ever happened after a tinder hookup, to process this unexpected turn of events.

I concluded that I was, in fact, in trouble.

so like… needless to say, that act of tucking me in was the death knell for my wanton winter, as well as my adversarial relationship with the concept of developing feelings. I am an extremely crotchety housecat that doesn’t like to be crowded who has unprecedentedly fallen incredibly hard for a wildly enthusiastic golden retriever, and our relationship is foundationally based upon this man’s desire to make me all snug and cozy before he leaves.

the burrito aspect was merely an afterthought. it’s all about the tuck-in babey.

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merlinmarvelandother-oneshots · 5 months

Note

Hello, good morning/afternoon/night.

(this was written with a translator, in case there are spelling errors)

First of all I want to tell you that I adore everything you write and the way you do it.

And second, could I place an order?

I'm still learning how to use Tumblr, so I don't know how to do several things and I don't know if I'm writing this where I should.

I hope it doesn't bother you ir make you feel Uncomfortable!!

Lately I have had some situations in which a...family member...in an indirect and at the same time direct way has told me that I am...overweight/fat...and that has made me feel bad, so only if you want, could you make some headcanon about how Undertale, Underswap, Underfell and Horrortale would react to me believing that.

(I mean, they would deny it and say nice things or they would laugh and make fun of me for it and highlight having a double chin and a belly and stuff like that...)

But of course, if you don't want, of course it's not necessary or if it seems like there are too many characters, you can remove them or if you want ignore this and I'll understand.

Thank you for taking the time to read this!

anon, i’m so sorry this happened to you <3 it’s unfair and nobody should have to go through that.

readers gender isn’t specified, but i use “beautiful” and “gorgeous”

Undertale, Underfell, underswap, and horrortale skelebros reacting to a reader who has been fat-shamed

Undertale:

Sans:

-his brow bones would furrow

-“wait a minute, who said that?”

-he’d nod when you tell him

-“listen, they’re wrong. you’re beautiful as you are. now, i don’t want you starting any diets or anything if they would just make you unhappy, because i’ve heard plenty of stories about them being terrible. your family members just plain wrong. ‘kay?”

-he’d hug you if you were still upset

-from then on, he would tell you how gorgeous you were more often

papyrus:

-he would be even more upset than you were, honestly

-someone would DARE say such nasty things about HIS s/o / friend??

-he would storm to their house, knock on the door, and that man WOULD. NOT. BUDGE. until your family member listened to him.

-he would be harsh but obviously be nice about it

underfell:

Sans:

-why do you give a fuck???

-he’s honestly so confused

-like, his brother told him the same thing (which also confused him, seeing as he is a SKELETON) and he just?? didn’t care??

-he tells you to stop giving a fuck

-that’s it

-“why do you give a shit about what they say? their opinions are ass. you look great”

papyrus:

-he doesn’t look up from his book when you say that

-“mm. you could stand to lose a few pounds, i guess”

-(you don’t think he quite realized how hurtful that is)

-if you tell him he’d ask why

-he thinks he’s genuinely looking out for your best interests.

underswap:

sans:

-“they told you WHAT!?”

-he would be FUMING with anger

-but, he would calm himself down enough to reassure you

-he would tell you that you look amazing, and you shouldn’t start a diet that you wouldn’t enjoy just to conform to their standards of beautiful or healthy.

-he would talk to the family member afterwards, angrier than he would normally like to be when resolving a conflict

-you never hear those words from your family member again, trust me

papyrus:

-“fuck ‘em”

-you appear slightly offended that he would say something like that about your family member, so he elaborates

-“they want to police you on how traditionally beautiful or healthy you are. you were happy before that, but now their words have upset you, for something that didn’t need said in the first place. so, fuck ‘em. that’s an asshole move”

-he would not argue this with you

horrortale:

Sans:

-hes so fucking confused

-where he’s from, food is a scarcity, and your family’s bitching about “too much?”

-he contacts your family member, whether that be finding their address from your address book or by finding their phone number on your phone, and gives him a piece of his mind.

-he would rant for HOURS if he could, or if he could keep his train of thought for that long, about how lucky they are for having food in the first place.

-afterwards he would encourage you about how beautiful you are, and how wrong your family member is

papyrus:

-he would look at you with concern

-overweight?

-he won’t pretend to be an expert on human weight, but even if you are “overweight,” that’s a good thing! it means you have access to food!

-that’s SO special to him.

-he would tell you that no matter what your family member thought, you were BEAUTIFUL

-he would be happy to talk to your family member if you wanted him to

#undertale #undertale au #undertale multiverse #utmv #sans x reader #papyrus x reader #underfell papyrus x reader #underfell sans x reader #underswap sans x reader #underswap papyrus x reader #horrortale sans x reader #horrortale papyrus x reader

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despairinthedeparturelounge · 2 years

Text

Headpiece

Baby Legolas gets scared of his dad's new crown and goes to mommy (reader).

Warning: none. Fluffy fluff. And like this is so short so sorry..

Possible bad grammar cuz English's not my first language,

like & Comments are very much appreciated

There were still three weeks remaining from the midwinter festival and the king has already planned everything and ordered the mantles mainly designed for this event.

He wanted everything to be perfect, stricktly in place and in one word, faboulous. And you as the queen tried your best to keep things in high standards as he wished for and by that here you were standing in front of the full length mirror on a stool that has added a few inches to your height for obvious reasons which you still haven't figured out, you weren't unfamiliar with this ceremonies nor the way anyone in charge of even the smallest task in this event must be and the best of themselves, even your poor handmaid has walked the stairs to your chambers several times just this morning.

It has been hours, you could swear by that, hours spent of you standing still for the tailors to measure you, head to toe, and not to mention the fact that if you move there is always a needle somewhere waiting patiently to poke your skin.

"These are the two colours the king has picked out my queen, both are in rhyme and sort of match with his own." Ingálvur said, Thranduil's personal tailor and a very respected elf among others. He was truly a blessing both him and his work.

He looked up holding two pieces of cloth one in indigo and one in deep maroon, both equally stunnishing on their own, you felt it difficult to decide the 'right' one, taking a deep breath you compared your fair skin with them to just have a vision on how each would look on you but that did not help, biting the skin on your lip Ingálvur caught your wandering eyes on the maroon piece making him smile in satisfaction, "maroon it is then" you smiled back nodding in agreement.

Right choice, you thought.

After couple of minutes your mind started to wonder how there's no sign of your child, he was too clingy to be away from you for this long, the suddon weight of guilt and gloom felt massive on your heart when the heavy doors of your chamber cracked open and a bawling silver hair ran inside visibly looking for you, hands brushing hard against his face as a poor attempt to wipe off his never ending tears, "nana.." your maiden quickly took your hand to help you down the stool when she saw the way you almost jumped to reach your crying son,

"Nana's here... come on, oh gods!" Your eyes soften when you saw his small face now wet with all the tears and the tip of his nose was red making him the most adorable thing you have laid eyes on, with all the crying and whimpering he barely could see which direction he was heading to, "what is it my little leaf?" you kneeled before him as you held both his tiny hands in yours preventing him from squishing and rubbing his swollen eyes more and he was quick to throw himself in your arms not caring how many strangers were in your room present right now.

He was holding a strand of your long hair in his hand like his life depend on it and if he let go he may get lost forever an old habit from as long as you can remember, catching his breath you brushed away the silver hair from his face and forehead for him to look at you more, "Ada.." you wiped off another tear with your thumb before standing up and rocking him in your arms, "you want ada?" He nodded yes, then no making you chuckle, "ada's scary nana, i- i want ada, my ada" you frowned a bit not understanding a single thing from this boy's mewling when one of the girls came into the room, looking absolutely relieved when he found the prince in your arms,

"Heavens," she let out a breath after bowing down to you, "my queen i am terribly sorry but the prince is incredibly fast!" You laughed making others in the room to let out a giggle, "what's the matter?" You said kissing your son's head as you kept caressing his back,

"The price walked into the king's chamber and i imagine he got scared of the kings new crown my queen."

The boy sniffed and look up at your face, "is that true? You're not really fond of ada's formalities are you?"

He shook his head as you walked slowly towards the doors, wanting to clear the air for both yourself and the little one in your arms, "nana no!"

"My son is not scared is he? The elven prince? Who's protecting nana then?" He nibbled at his fingers that were holding your hair.

"Let us go and find ada shall we?" At last he gave in, holding on to you so tightly you made your way to the hall wondering how gigantic of a crown or cloak it might be to scare him off like that, Thranduil probably didn't even notice the young boy running.

With a lazy knock on the door they opened it for you to walk in, the intense light made you shut your eyes for a few seconds after stepping in and let them adjust then to open it changing the arm you were holding you boy with you placed the free one on top of his head to avoid the sunlight reaching him, Thranduil on the other hand was surprised by your presents turned around to see you and finding Legolas curled up in your arms, he smiled softly somehow unable to take his eyes off of you, light shining on your hair and face make it ten times more heavenly making him fall once again, even more.

"See, it's ada, your very own." You mumbled to the little kid before kissing the palm he placed on your lips for more comfort, your husband looked at you confused before stepping forward, "he got scared of your crown, you had to see him then, face red and wet of tears!" You said smiling before pointing to his crown, mouthing and asking him to take it off, and so he did without a second thought.

"He's all fussy and grumpy now, gods may have mercy on us."

He stood next to you, taking his time to watch you talk as he brushed your hair away from your shoulder to leave a tiny kiss on your skin, Legolas on the other hand was still seeking for more attention holding the colar of your dress.

"My my, what was it little leaf? A monster?!"

He whispered the last part, walking to your back where Legolas's head was resting, or hiding.

Moving and making a little space between your hair with his finger, he finally found the scared boy, eyes still shut. "Or maybe a spider was it?" He ran his two fingers gently on your boy's back making him finally giggle from the tickling.

"Then where was your bow and arrow? Didn't my prince wants to save his ada?"

Pulling back from your hair he faced Thranduil and check him carefully, his blue orbits were moving so fast scanning his dad's face, not missing a spot. After making sure the man in front of his eyes is in fact his father he proceed to reach for his face and touched the man's nose with his index finger,

"Ada-" "yes! That's correct my green leaf! It's ada!"

He rested his free hand around your waist after carefully taking the boy out of your arms into his,

"Wanna show ada your new bow?" He nodded excitedly clapping his hands, "yes yes!" crawling out of his dad's arms to managed to run even faster towards the doors and stumble one or two times since his small feet reached the ground.

"Do you really believe the head piece is scary, my love?"

He looked at you while pulling you closer to himself, you formed a tiny space with your fingers and looked at him through the hole "maybe a tiny bit?" You laughed pressing your lips together before feeling his soft and warm ones on your temple, "i need another"

"Another what- Thranduil!!"

He smirked before cupping your face with his hand

"This one's yours but i want another to have equal share."

You laughed loud covering his eyes with your hand as you went on your tip toe to kiss his lips.

#lord of the rings #lord of the rings imagine #lotr #lotr imagine #lotr x reader #thranduil #thranduil x wife #thranduil x reader #thranduil imagine #thranduil x you #legolas #lord of the rings x reader

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lifewithdavefarts · 8 months

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DaveFarts - Episode 25 “Endurance Test” [Episode List] Tim gets a bit too cocky and challenges his gassy friend by (jokingly) doubting of his farting skills. Dave, whose farts are being as powerful as usual, if not more, gladly accepts the challenge.

This story was originally requested by StraightFartGods.

POV: Tim

The weather outside, despite being warm, wasn’t the best so our plans for the night, being a group of friends who’s starting to surrender way too easily (it’s because once you’re past 25, you get instantly old), we all decided to stay home, our respective homes even, so Dave and I ended up alone. We don’t mind that much.

Dave likes going out way more than me (though it’s not like I don’t know how to have fun) but he too cherishes some good, safe alone-time to recharge social batteries: we’re much more similar than we’d like to admit, which is why we get along so well. They say we’re “the odd couple”, but I think that weirdos simply attract each other naturally, even though they can look very different at first.

“Alright.” Dave said, walking into the living room. He was dressed as if we had to leave, so a grey shirt and a pair of good old dark blue jeans, slightly loose because he untied his belt. “I’m starving.”

“Pizza?” I simply asked.

“The day I’m gonna answer ‘No’ to that is the day you’ll know a skinwalker took my place.”

The power of pizza.

Even though we didn’t actively plan for it, the night slowly morphed into a “movie night”, just the two of us on the couch eating pizza and watching a cheesy, manly, toxic action movie that we can recite by memory because of how many times we watched it: “Bullet Gore”. Now that’s a title!

“Your face is history.” the male hero said, right before turning somebody’s head to bits with his shotgun.

We cheered as and had a sip of beer as if our baseball team scored the match point and enjoyed the unnecessary but fun gore sequences of the film.

“Too bad they ruined everything with the sequel.” Dave commented.

“Aw come on. It’s worse, but not that bad.” I replied.

“Never watched and never will.” he stated, taking a good sip of beer.

By the time the movie was halfway done (it was a surprisingly long flick), I had to turn up the volume because of some noises next to me making me difficult to hear what the characters were saying.

Indeed, Dave started farting, the way he does during nights like these, with pizza and beer acting as fuel for his already incredible talent. He was resting both his legs on the small table in front of the couch, his denim ass facing the TV, so I didn’t have a proper full view of it. I could, however, hear every single blast echoing in the room, with the terrible scent immediately following each thunder.

I would love to say that he was doing this because of my kink, but this is actually what being Dave’s close friend means: you better get used to his farts, because he’s gonna just casually do it in front of you whether you like it or not. He wasn’t even acknowledging that he was ripping one every few minutes, huge ones nonetheless, though once or twice he did snap his fingers to get me to turn to him, so I could see his smirk as he ripped one. Once again, he does this with our other friends as well, but he does seem to put some extra “care” into the teasing part because he knows I actually, well, like it.

But everyone’s got limits: the farts were huge, not overly long, but incredibly stinky. Even for my standards, it was getting a bit… stuffy in there, so I actually went for it.

“I know this is weird coming from me, but… can you tone it down a bit?”

Dave slowly turned to me with a serious, surprised face, and effortlessly replied by ripping a loud, almost wet one, renewing the stench he was immune to. This time it was one of his longer ones, around 7 seconds long.

“Sorry, I can’t hear you.” he managed to say while farting. “Did you say something?”

After the fart ended and a few moments of silence (ignoring the TV), I opened my mouth to speak again, but my friend’s ass spoke first, emitting another loud, long rip.

Dave gestured to his ear and slowly shook his head, as to say the he still couldn’t hear me, as if we were in a loud nightclub, but the only music piercing through my own eardrums was my bro’s loud fart.

That ridiculous scene actually made me laugh like an idiot, while also giving me the hardest boner so far of the night.

9 seconds and the rip was over.

“So, I did it.” Dave said. “You’ve been healed. I blasted your kink out of you.” he joked.

“Please…” I played along. “Those were like… low-tier farts, for your standards.”

“True.” he playfully admitted. “So don’t tempt me.” he threatened.

I hated that I found that… hot.

“I’m n-not… I’m just s-saying that the entire room smells like, I don’t know, rotten beer? Is t-that even possible?”

Dave laughed. “If only there was something or someone who could fix this!”

“What are you implying…?” I asked.

“Well…” Dave sat normally on the couch. “I assumed your lungs were better than this. But apparently you just can’t handle my power.” he said, with a cheesy smirk.

“Oh…” I got what he meant. “Well, maybe I’m not complaining because of you’re farting too much.” I leaned closer to him, as if we were doing some shady business. “Maybe I’m complaining because you’re not farting enough.” I dared to say.

My friend replied with a surprised laughter. “Are you seriously challenging me?” he didn’t sound offended or disgusted, just amused. But he can get cocky.

“Wanna bet?” I asked, indeed challenging him.

“Alright, get up.”

Dave stood up and I did the same: it truly looked like we were doing a business meeting.

“Challenge accepted.” he continued, and we firmly shook hands. “If I win, beers are on you for 3 months.”

“Deal.” I replied. “But if I win, we’re gonna watch ‘Bullet Gore 2’ later.”

While still shaking hands, Dave looked at me funny.

“Really? That’s it?” he replied, with a smile. “All of this just to watch a shitty movie with me?”

Funny how that’s the thing he found weird instead of, you know, the boner his farts give me.

“Yeah. Pretty gay, huh?” I joked.

“Okay…” he nodded, still somewhat surprised. “It’s a deal.”

We once again had this super manly handshake going on, just as an helicopter in the movie exploded in a fiery fireball, killing a bunch of henchmen and one of the main villains, with the shirtless muscular hero saying something like “Burn in Hell, you son of a bitch!”. Probably the manliest moment I ever lived through.

“So, let’s hear those toots.” I said, bravely.”

“Toots?” my friend replied. “I’m gonna blast your face so hard you’re gonna regret having this kink…”.

Dave casually threatening me like this… got me instantly hard. I knew he was just playing along but goddammit, why am I like this? Why is he like this? Why the fuck did I even accept this bet?! As my own mind made fun of me, my bro lied on this stomach on the couch, his tall figure occupying all of it, his nice jeans-clad ass facing up, looking like a soft warm denim pillow.

I simply managed to sit between his long legs and planted my face into that ass, still stinky for all the farts he ripped until that moment. My nose wasn’t facing down however, as I didn’t want to make it weird.

“Dude.” I heard Dave say. “Honestly, your lack of commitment to your fart kink disappoints me”. he then laughed, reaching for my head. “Be a man and face my ass.” he said, pushing my head deeper between his denim asscheeks.

I tried not to laugh myself at that weird statement, so I just obeyed and turned my head, facing down, now fully at the mercy of my friend’s powerful butt. I took a good whiff, enjoying the smell of almost 1 hour of loud, post-pizza blasts. As I did that, I felt the ass’ muscles relaxing, a sign that Dave was pushing one out, and indeed it came out immediately: an ear-piercing blast and made my face shake, almost wet-sounding, felt like a slap on my face.

My task was clear: not a single particle of gas had to reach Dave’s nose, so I inhaled it deeply and loudly as the fart kept erupting straight down my nostrils. I inhaled so hard and for so long that I actually surprisingly outlasted my friend’s 9 seconds: now the only noise we both could hear (besides someone getting shot in the movie) was me breathing his gas in… which made me realize how weird that was.

Am I making this weird? Too… “porn-y” for my straight friend? I love that he has no problems with me and my kink, but I don’t want to cross certain lines you know. He’s not saying anything… but his silence only makes it worse. I had to make sure.

“Dave.” I said, my voice being muffled by his ass, which made him laugh. “Am I making this weird?”

My friend simply turned his head, trying to look at me. I managed to get a quick look of his facial expression but the only thing on his face was a cocky smirk.

“Not weirder than usual to me.” he simply said. He then reached for my head, making it bounce a bit in his ass. “…Ready?”

Another fart erupted, which itself was Dave’s real answer to my question: “it’s fine”, he knows what this kink is by now, and he’s the one who basically challenged me to sniff it all up. Plus, if he was weirded out he knew he could just tell me and I wouldn’t be offended: we’re all adults here after all.

So there I was, my nose enduring some of the worst rips my friend ever gifted to me, the sheer power of those blasts being raunchier than his usual for some reason, maybe because of the beers being warmer or the mozzarella on the pizza being spoiled. No idea.

Or maybe it was just Dave putting extra efforts into his farts, if that was even possible. He’s the Fart King after all, so if he was somehow able to set custom pitch, loudness and power for each farts he ripped I wouldn’t have been surprised. Then again, he could even fart on command, so maybe he doesn’t need more buffs than he already has.

“Your face is history” my friend said, in a deeper voice, a clear reference to the masterpiece we were watching earlier.

And just like the henchman from the movie, my head was blown away by a sheer deadly force, this time in the form of Dave’s being unhinged, each natural blast somehow bigger and better than the previous one. I feel like that it doesn’t matter how this bet goes: I’m winning by simply having a bro like him.

I kept sniffing it all up as the blast rushed down my throat. He was good at farting, but I was also good at taking it. It’s like I said: weirdos work better together!

Yeah, I was taking it all like a champ.

“I could do this all night you know.” he boasted, during a rare moment of his ass being silent.

“What a coincidence: me too!” I bragged.

“Ohhhh… someone’s getting cocky back there.”

Dave really wanted those free beers, huh? He once again reached for my head and, with a firm grip, pushed it deeper down his warm denim ass, now almost sagging.

“Let’s see if you can keep your promise, shall we?” that was a threat.

There was like 10 seconds of silence, 10 never-ending seconds, but I just knew Dave was brewing something big, as he kept my head there (not that I was planning to move it anyway). Finally, he turned to me, with a cheesy grin, purposely trying to look like some kind of serial killer from a slasher movie before finish his victim off.

And then he hit me with his weapon of choice: the loudest fart I heard that night. It was big, it was powerful, it was deep, long. His hand didn’t move and my whole face was shaking because of the sheer power of the blast; I had to close my eyes ‘cause the gas was making them burn. How was it possible to fart so naturally and casually like this for him will always be beyond me… but I didn’t care. I managed to breathe that monster in with my mouth open, almost choking on my friend’s deadly gas.

Dave loved the challenge, but two can play this game! I could tell he was amused, disgusted and surprised by how good I was at enduring his powerful rips.

And finally, after 16 whole seconds, that impressive display of flatulence was over, not a single particle of gas reaching my farter-friend’s nostrils, as I promised.

“I believe you’re losing your touch.” I mocked him.

“With all the farts you've been eating, of course you'd be talking shit you ungrateful bastard!”

“Ohhhh sorry, someone's a little touchy.” I kept teasing him.

“Alright, I’m done holding back.” he sounded comically annoyed by my impressive endurance.

My friend slowly turned over until he was lying on his back, making sure he didn’t accidentally kick me with his long legs. He now assumed a more familiar position, the one he usually has when blasting me. He cocked his legs up, showing off his denim ass and a tiny bit of his red boxer brief, and wrapped his legs around me, pulling me closer to his gas source. His long legs had an even stronger grip than his hand, and my whole face was now completely planted into my friend’s ass.

“I’m feeling merciful tonight, so I’m giving you the chance to surrender now.” he stated, as his legs held me still, keeping my nose right between the rough fabric of his jeans-clad buttcheeks.

“Never.” I boasted. “…unless, you know, you actually want to stop because this is getting too weir-“

“Shut up!” he cut me off. “You just had to ruin my villainous speech, didn’t you?!” he laughed.

I just didn’t know what to say.

“Again, this is your last chance bro.”

I played along, knowing he was okay with it. “Hit me with your best shot, but don’t wound what you can’t kill.”

We both laughed like immature idiots, but Dave took my words at heart, because once we were done laughing at that ridiculous moment, he felt air being sucked inside his anus.

Yes, he switched to “on-command” mode, his secret weapon, his final secret move. Despite my face being there, my bro didn’t have any trouble at sucking more and more air through his ass like a vacuum cleaner, and the sound that made wasn’t that different from an actual fart. Every time I heard that “air-being-sucked-in” noise, as silly as that sounds, I think of a drumroll, the kind of tension that raises before the beat actually drops, because that’s what Dave’s farts are: something to look forward to… if you’re into it of course.

He’s been sucking air for like 20 seconds now and I started to regret my cockiness: when even a kinky bitch like me ends up being afraid of his own best bro’s farting skills, you just know something big, maybe too big, is gonna happen.

The anticipation made me hornier than ever, and the fact that it was, well, Dave, just Dave, my friend, made it even hotter for me. So casually, undeniably hot.

Finally, he stopped sucked air in, and I could hear Dave breathing (from his mouth) heavily, a sign that he was getting tired… and even his ass was getting sweatier and warmer.

“Your face is history.” my bud said again, in a comically deep voice.

We love that movie.

What followed, however, almost made me pass out.

The loudness was almost unnatural, I feared it could make me deaf. Imagine the stock sound of a fart, only longer, more powerful, airy, the most impressive fart Dave ripped in months, something so powerful that he can even feel the recoil as he pushed it out… just like a shotgun.

The more he farted, the louder it got, and I swore he was gonna tear a hole through his jeans this time, there was no way his clothes were able to endure that. I kept sniffing, breathing heavily, the fart’s pace being faster than my own breathing, if that makes any sense. 10 seconds already and the blast didn’t seem to lose any power: I almost got scared.

As the fart kept getting ripped, I felt Dave stretching his long denim legs wide to ease the fart out, which in turn made it sound even louder and deadlier. I felt like living a weird fever dream, probably because of all the poisonous gas in my lungs. But I also felt the luckiest man in the world.

I dared to peek over that denim ass, only to be greeted by Dave having the most evil smirk in the world, completely unfazed by how weird I was, how all of that was… but I could also see how tired and sweaty he was from forcing all those farts out, incredibly enough.

I planted my head back where it belonged, sniffing as much as I could, as if my life depended on it, even though I was almost passing out for all that stench… and the blood rushing down to my boner didn’t help to focus at all.

And yet… I won. The fart was losing power, ending with a quick series of toots, Dave’s legs crashing down the couch, his left one on my right side, his right one on my left side, and I got up myself, my face leaving that gas trap, finally sitting down normally on the couch.

I took a good look at Dave: he was indeed tired, sweaty, sporting a silly smirk.

“Is that how you look like after sex?” I dared to joke.

My friend laughed. “Hey, I love you bro, but you gotta settle for my farts.”

I patted one of his legs in response, as a cheesy way to thank him, and hopefully he knew how thankful I was. I mean, he already knew how aroused I was anyway, so why keep the fact that I’m grateful a secret?

Dave too adjusted his position, this time kicking me on purpose while doing it, and sat back normally.

“I gotta say, I didn’t except you to win.” he admitted.

“…win?!” I replied. “Bro… I was basically done. That last one almost killed me.”

We both laughed at the absurdity of the situation.

“Let’s call it a tie then.” he proposed. “Until next time at least.” he just casually said.

I simply turned to the TV, only to find out that the movie was over.

Did Dave just face-farted me for like… 30 minutes?! Time truly flew by.

My friend then reached for his beer and the remote. We some on-demand features on our TV and, after navigating the UI for a few seconds, he started downloading “Bullet Gore 2”.

“Really?” I asked.

“Well, if you can endure all of that gas, I can sit through a turd of a movie.”

I think he was gonna watch this movie with me either way, regardless of any bet, just like I’m more than happy to offer him a beer whenever I could, so all of this fart-bet was for nothing.

Then again, weirdos attract each other naturally...

End of Episode 25

#eproctophilia #davefarts #fart kink #fart story #malefarts

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inchidentally · 7 months

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What do you think was the turning point in Lando and Oscar's relationship?

I really want to know what other ppl think about this bc for me personally I don't think that moment has even come yet! I made this post about a landmark landoscar moment but I don't think that's been the big turning point into them going ahhh this is it, this is what our friendship is.

like I've said before in my way too many text posts, Lando has stayed thrown by the fact that Oscar doesn't even remotely fit into the Carlos and Daniel type of teammate he's used to. Lando's shown Oscar his quiet side, his fidgety side, his cocky side, his bratty side, his naughty/flirty side and all of them get the same quiet fond indulgent response from Oscar. guys like Carlos and Daniel have known exactly how to play Lando almost from day one and we get all this great content. but apart from a little bit of sass back sometimes, Oscar stays in that very passive role and the content we get from them is Oscar watching his very famous, very well-established and charismatic teammate that he's used to watching on a phone screen. occasionally we get glimpses of Prema or Alpine Oscar come out but it's very rare.

I feel like he's wanted to just get his head down this season and prove himself the way he's said he feels he needs to. he's clearly taking nothing for granted and I don't think we're going to see him start to fully relax until a good few races into 2024. Lando is F1/McLaren establishment by now and personally I think Oscar puts Lando into the same category of things that he's trying to prove himself to. that was terrible sentence structure but you get what I mean ??

(rest under a cut bc yeah I overdo it and also just my opinion so pls nobody take it seriously)

the general standard for F1 rookies is either to latch onto the personality of their teammate or show up with a persona already in place. in both cases it's because young men have crazy amounts of insecurity but are also desperate to ingratiate themselves into a group as fast as possible. Lando was kind of an exception bc he entered F1 basically as a zygote. he went from being Carlos' baby to Daniel's baby right up until the late 2022 season. but since then we've seen Lando learn how to do the flirty humor and cocky joking that pretty much all drivers use to navigate each other. Lando's not naturally as much of a cabrón as the rest of them but he's found a way to fit in that feels natural and that also tracks with his streamer/youtuber identity.

but literally NONE of that F1 rookie standard behavior fits Oscar. I was talking about this with @landofication and how Oscar's confidence and unbotheredness comes from a such genuinely harmless place - he simply doesn't perform for anyone and he doesn't fib to people even casually. he's incredibly well-raised and respectful and polite but he won't ever say things he doesn't mean. he won't talk for the sake of filling a lull in conversation AND he also won't say something controversial/opinionated if it seems unnecessary or cocky. for example !! Alpine made an absolutely wild assumption about his future without even speaking to him first and he very calmly stood up for himself and later on made a good humored joke about the drama when he signed the extension with McLaren. he's been more mature and calm than men twice and three times his age.

that kind of honesty is why it feels completely authentic when Oscar forgets the cameras are on him and he just tracks Lando's every move and laughs at all of Lando's jokes and forgets he's supposed to play a role. same with how genuinely supportive he always is of Lando even when he himself has had a bad performance. he also doesn't want to make himself being a Lando fanboy into ~hilarious media fodder~ he's just being open about respecting and really liking Lando. kind of like how he can giggle and get bashful about gay innuendo or a guy play-flirting with him (or Lando getting raunchy to make him blush) but I've genuinely never seen him bro-zone someone or play at acting gay for laughs. he can see why the flirting and raunch is funny but he doesn't get why acting gay would be funny.

and I'm not having a go at guys who do that kind of humor or saying that they're doing it offensively! I've said before that a lot of what Americans view as "gay" in non-American male friendships is extremely standard straight dude behavior everywhere else. flirting and being physical with your bros is different from flirting with women to them precisely because they won't date or have sex w their bros. there's no need for nohomo because it was never homo lol the lines are very clear. also a lot of that humor in F1 is a common survival tactic in male pro sports. like a way to have fun and bond while also knowing that cameras are aiming at you every second you're not in your driver's room or hotel room. it's way better to diffuse the tension of being constantly watched by being silly and flirty with your bros rather than trying to hold a real conversation.

but it's just not Oscar personally to initiate that stuff for laughs or to know how to pick up those jokes and play ball. just like how he's not starry-eyed about Lando as a joke! he's just genuinely got this fanboy crush he's dealing with as best he can during a high pressure rookie season. he's not bothering to try and complicate things further or push himself into Lando's existing social life.

BUT poor Lando is definitely still in the process trying to figure Oscar out. the little fixations Lando already has of his own like Oscar's name and Oscar being such a good boy who blushes at sex jokes and Oscar being so mature and patient even when Lando is fed up with filming and having a blood sugar drop are so cute to me because Lando's been slowly picking up on what Oscar genuinely likes about him and where his boundaries are. the photo of Oscar on lando.jpg with the heart caption right underneath it was unbearably vulnerable. such a tiny way to say I really like my new teammate even if I don't understand him yet.

I do however think it's driving Lando iNsAnE that Oscar has no concept of casual PDA. I'm hoping he's seen by now that Oscar isn't even like that with Lily and that it isn't at all personal. but oh my god he's so ready to be able to hug and cuddle Oscar and do everything he does with Carlos and Daniel and his pre-F1 big brothers like Max F, George and Alex. I'm all for respecting people's physical boundaries but hopefully Oscar thinks back to Lando's reaction here and let's Lando latch onto him more often.

aaaaaand that's all to say that I think we're going to have to be patient to see where Lando and Oscar land in terms of what sort of deeper friendship they have. their teammates relationship has already been tested thoroughly in just one season and it seems so solid which has obviously been first priority. but between Lando having such a full social life already and Oscar having gotten used to being by himself or socializing very privately I'm not expecting a carlando or dando type thing where they share friends or hobbies until they've gotten to know each other better individually. which in a way for me is really sweet because the amount that they already sync up and are comfortable together and share their team duties despite not having that immediate jokey rapport is just !!! I really love that. sort of how silly bubbly Lando is my beloved but quieter and more thoughtful Lando is maybe even a little bit more my beloved?

anyway thankfully we've got three more years locked down to keep seeing them feel each other out (huhuahauhsfhh)

#landoscar #mctwinks #it is so dangerous to ask me these things I rly hope you don't mind me being insane #mine #inchreplies

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sophie-hatter-jenkins · 6 months

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Hoody

Written for @hinnymicrofic December 2023 - Prompt 27

So - this got quite a lot smuttier than I expected! It isn't the first smut I've written but the first that I have posted here, and warnings do apply.

It is definitely NSFW, there is some fairly graphic sex and a bit of bad language. When it goes in AO3, It’ll be at least M rated. Consider yourself warned!

It also isn’t terribly Micro - though this seems to be a theme with my microfics!

Harry sits in the field hospital tent, stripped to the waist. The adrenaline is starting to wear off, and he’s suddenly tired to his bones.

The mediwitch attending to him pokes and prods him with her wand. There’s a nasty slash, right through his robes and down his bicep. It’s deep. Diffindo, he thinks. It takes the witch a while to repair the muscle and close it up. Then there are a few more cuts and grazes, across his knuckles, along his cheekbone. When she’s done with all that, she checks the bruising that wraps around on his abdomen. It stretches over his stomach and obliques on his left hand side, and it’s already darkening rapidly. That one, he’s sure, was Bombarda. He winces as she palpates the soft, tender tissue.

“No internal damage,” she tells him, eventually. “Not much I can do for it I’m afraid.”

She hands him some pain potion, then confirms there’s no broken bones either, so that’s something. Merlin, he hates Skelegro.

“Am I good to go?” he asks. She nods. He puts the shredded, bloodied remains of his shirt and robes back on, thanks his ministering angel, and leaves the tent.

Three weeks, it’s taken. Three weeks to track, infiltrate and dismantle the potions gang. Three weeks of surveillance, disillusionment charms and setting up dummy buys. Three weeks since he’s been home. He misses Ginny and the boys - so much. But it won’t be long now. All he can think about is getting home, getting back to them.

But he isn’t quite done yet, because Robards is lurking outside the tent. Harry isn’t surprised. It’s standard operating procedure - do the debrief ASAP, while everything’s still fresh. He can’t even be pissed off about it, since he’s the one that wrote the standard operating procedures in the first place. At least there’s a mug of coffee for this bit. It’s shit coffee, but it’s hot, and it’s better than nothing.

He walks Robards through the whole thing. They’d got the bastards in the end, but not without one hell of a fight. Intel on the layout of the lab and warehouse facility hadn’t been totally accurate (bloody Dawlish. Harry would be having words), hence the fighting. And the field hospital.

When he’s finished, Robards gives him an appraising look. “Have you given any more thought to what we discussed last month?”

Harry shrugs. He’s been putting off thinking about this, using the excuse of needing to focus on the case. But that isn’t going to wash any more. “When do you need an answer?”

“I can give you to the end of the week. Then I’ll need to offer it to someone else.”

“Noted.” Harry presses his lips together, feeling conflicted. He hopes Ginny will understand why.

They sip their coffee in silence for a moment, then Harry asks Robards whether he has any spare forms for the custody paperwork. Robards takes pity on him. “Ah, get home to your wee lassie. I’ll sort it out for you.”

It’s almost eleven o’clock when he gets home, crunching up the path to the cottage from the apparition point in the dark. Lights on, though - Ginny’s still awake. Warmth spreads through his chest at the thought of seeing her.

He pushes open the door. She’s curled up on the sofa, wearing his old Gryffindor hoody, though it’s miles too big for her. Her legs are bare, hair pulled up into a messy knot on top of her head. She’s conjured a ball of soft yellow light to read by, and it’s hovering just over her shoulder, warming her skin and highlighting the freckles that dust her cheeks. He doesn’t think she’s ever looked better.

As soon as she sees him, she bolts off the sofa and hurls herself at him. “You’re back! Thank Merlin.”

“Yeah.” He breathes in the scent of her, warm and comforting and so familiar. Feels himself relax, letting go of tension he didn’t realise he was carrying. “I missed you. So much.”

She hugs him tighter, and he winces a bit. She feels it, and lets go, looks at him a bit more closely and clocks the blood on his cheek, the damage to his robe. “Oh fuck, Harry! Are you hurt?”

He shrugs. “A bit. But you should see the other guy.” It’s a shit joke, but she laughs anyway. “Seriously, I’m fine. Nothing major,” he reassures her. Not this time, anyway, he adds silently, pretty sure she’s thinking the same.

“Hungry?” she asks. “I could make some toast or something?”

He shakes his head. “I just need a shower. And some sleep.”

She nods, takes his hand and leads him up the stairs. Hands him a towel. He pokes his head into the nursery while she turns the water on for him, watches two little chests slowly rise and fall. It makes his own chest hurt a little. But in a good way.

He takes his time in the shower, scrubbing away dried blood, wondering how much of it is his. He thinks she might join him, but she doesn’t. Instead, she uses the loo and brushes her teeth. When he heads back to their bedroom, hair damp, towel wrapped around his waist, he finds her sitting on the mattress at the foot of the bed, facing the door. Her eyes land on the bruising on his side.

“That looks nasty.”

“Just superficial.”

She’s still wearing his hoody. He wonders what she’s wearing underneath it.

“Well now, Potter. Why don’t you come here and find out?” she suggests, which is when he realises he wondered out loud.

The answer, he soon discovers, as he tugs it up over her head, is a pair of knickers, pink striped cotton, and nothing else. She’s been sleeping like this, she explains. She feels closer to him that way.

“But I’d have made more effort if I knew you were coming home,” she laughs. Just at that moment though, he’s struggling to think of anything sexier, as he takes her hands and pulls her up to meet him craving the contact of her skin against his.

He drops kisses along her collarbone and runs his hands greedily down her back, until his fingertips meet the hem of her knickers, slips them down over her hips, revelling in the way his hands fit so perfectly over the curve of her bum. She sighs with relief, then nudges his chin aside, reaching up to find his lips with hers. Her mouth is soft and open and tastes of mint toothpaste, her tongue dancing against his, their kiss deep and insistent.

Her hands skate down his chest, and his skin feels so much more alive for her touch. She presses herself firmly against him, fingers dropping lower to tug away his towel, and god he’s missed her, missed this, so so much. He’s hard as hell, and she rocks up against him, making him twitch and gasp at the pressure.

He pushes her backwards until her calves make contact with the bed. She falls, sprawling across the blankets, giving him a filthy, lazy smile, eyes dark, daring him to join her. And well, he never could resist a challenge, could he?

He kneels over her, kissing his way up her thighs, feeling her shiver below him. Thinks about taking her over the edge with his mouth, but tonight, he wants to watch her, properly, and lets his fingers settle between her legs. This, he knows how to do, with a practised and familiar ease, and she’s so very ready for him. She breathes in sharply, burying her face into his shoulder as his fingers dance over just the right spot, side to side, with a steady pressure and rhythm. She pushes her head back, eyes closed tight, squirming against him, but he takes his time, bringing her closer and closer. Then he twists his hand so that his thumb is circling her, slipping two fingers inside, finding her slick and hot, and suddenly she’s there, throat and chest flushed red. She bites down a groan in the back of her throat to stop herself crying out, the way she always does since they had the kids, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get over the fascination of watching her come apart like this.

“Please,” she whispers, and he can’t deny either of them any longer. He shifts his weight so that he’s above her and a moment later, sinks deeply into her, feeling her still pulsing all around him. She clings to him as he rocks back and forth inside her, muttering her name over and over into her ear, losing himself in the feel of her until he’s tumbling, uncontrolled into blissful oblivion. Suddenly, he feels the weight of three long weeks apart lifting. Now he feels whole again. Now he’s home.

Afterwards, they lie quietly together. He should be sleepy, but he isn’t. She’s nestled in against his shoulder, his arm curled around behind her, idly stroking the curve of her breast. They chat for a while about her work - the matches she’s covered, the frustrating office politics, an opinion piece on the new management at Puddlemere that he managed to read while he was on stakeout. She tells him that a glossy magazine wants to commission her for a series on the future of European Quidditch, and he tells her (again) how bloody proud he is of her.

“I wanted to tell you straight away.” She looks at him with a small, sad smile. “I hate it when you’re away.”

“Yeah.” He pauses, takes a deep breath. “What if I wasn’t?”

“Wasn’t what?” she asks, her fingers intertwined with his, playing absentmindedly with his wedding ring.

“Away. Again. In the future I mean.”

She rolls away and props herself up on one elbow so she can look at him. She’s frowning - not in anger, just confusion. “What does that mean?”

He takes a moment, because he knows once the words are out, he can’t take them back. It stops being his problem, and starts being theirs, and he still struggles with what feels like burdening her - anyone, really - with his shit. He looks up at the ceiling.

“Robards offered me a job. A new one. A promotion, actually.”

“Okay. What sort of job?”

And so he tells her - how he’s been badgering Robards for months about hiring more people. Came up with a plan for how to do it and everything. How Robards took it to Kingsley, and Kingsley took it to the Wizengamot. “It’s massive, Gin. Too many people to just train on the job like before. There’s going to be this whole new training academy. And… and Robards needs someone to run it.”

“And that would be you?”

“If I say yes.”

She’s quiet for a moment. “Do you want to do it?”

“I… I don’t know.” He searches again for the right words. “I love what I do right now. I love making a difference. Sometimes I think I’d miss it too much - being out there, catching the bad guys. It’s all I’ve ever done.”

“And the other times?”

He doesn’t reply straight away. Thinks about the slash to his arm, the bruising on his torso, Diffindo and Bombarda and shield charms a split second too late. Thinks about the two small boys asleep down the hall, about Ginny, warm and yielding, lying next to him. “I wonder why the fuck I haven’t bitten Robards’s hand off for it yet.”

He feels her laughter on his shoulder, just a puff of air. “I get it,” she tells him.

And then he realises - actually, she really does. He turns to look at her properly. “You miss playing?”

“Every day,” she nods. “But what I don’t miss is the residential training camps, the overseas exhibition match tours, every bit of my body aching, the constant bludger injuries. I certainly wouldn’t swap being here for the boys to go back to it. And also - I love writing as well. If I had to give it up now, I’d miss that too.” She reaches over and runs her hand down his jaw, fingers in his beard. “Different doesn’t have to mean worse, you know.”

And she’s right, isn’t she? Of course she is. She asks him to tell her more about it, so he does - his plans for recruitment, what the trainees should study, his ideas on how to mix practical and theoretical training.

She laughs at him. “Okay, Hermione, time to lay off the polyjuice.” He pretends to pout, but actually, it’s a fair cop. “You actually sound excited about it, you know,” she observes.

“I… I kinda think I am.”

She smiles encouragingly. “Harry, I’m not going to tell you what to do. We’re a team, and I’ll support you whatever you decide. For what it’s worth though - you’re a great teacher. The new recruits would be lucky to have you. And you being here, every night, with me and the boys, all of us together? Isn’t that what we always wanted?”

He’s quiet again. Then he grins at her. “You wouldn’t mind having me around a bit more?”

She laughs at the absurdity of the question. “I’d love it! Of course I would! We all would.”

“Okay then,” he tells her. “I’ll tell Robards tomorrow.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He laughs, a soft breathy sort of laugh. Draws her back into his arms, knowing it’s all going to be okay. That with them, it always is.

#hinny microfic #hinny #harry x ginny #harry potter #ginny weasley #fanfic

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