#(this may or may not be based off my real life experiences)

[doginurbloodstream]

i am bive from regretevator!

i dont particularly miss the regretevator universe.. i do enjoy the game though

i know two infected fictionkins, one of which is also unpleasant gradient and poob!

id say im a 3/10, i tend to be a very rational person (i think)

bive is unlabled mspec but wlw and im aroace transmasc

my fictionkin identity doesnt really effect daily life, if at all. it has to be triggered by specific bive related things. the closest its gotten is wanting to yell out "me" whenever the npc me entered the elevator while i was playing with my friend, who does not know im a fictionkin, so there was like an awkward pause where i stopped myself, and then yelled bive. there are random bits of dysphoria i guess, i dont like talking in third person, but its mild and i can get past it.

my fictionkin experience is mainly unpleasant (gradient) unfortunately. shifts are euphoric but also stressful. i tend to have to consciously ground myself a bit, because i have felt like im being watched in the past. i knew/know i wasnt, i just couldnt shake the feeling. i mean coming up with theories for the game where i can just completely let lose is fun, however it is saddening that i will probably never come up with a real one.

death note, touch tone telephone (i was based on that song so its not surprising), and i recently realized the backrooms does too. theres more im not thinking of

im not sure, its not psychological and i think dont believe in most spiritual things. its probably a multiversal thing, but i dont know from there so i usually just say unlabeled.

i do experience shifts! they are always triggered tho, thankfully. i dont get them too often. the first two shifts i had were me being paranoid abt things (the very first one was very out of control, but i was sleep deprived and depressed at the time). the second time i talked about two questions ago. i didnt have any shifts for awhile after that until i my plushie arrived, and i stayed up quite a bit just missing mediamates. that was rough. my later shifts were triggered by trying to come up with theories for the game, altho i wasnt aware i was shifted, until later, i thought i was just excited. the theories were really unhinged, and i thought i was a genius. it was rly fun tho. harmless shift. today i had a brief shift, i was looking at a bive fictionkin stimboard, and there was like a liminal space gif + music was playing, and it looked.. all too much like the lab. i started crying a bit, even tho i do not think have kinmemories, but it ended pretty quickly cuz my friend msged me a joke and the shock value got to me lol. ive also had phantom shifts, but not much recently. i may have had tail shifts, but its difficult to differentiate between kintypes

my media is regretevator on roblox! i do cringe at it sometimes tbh.

when i see fanart, it sort of feels like it was made FOR me specifically lol. what i know abt my canon heavily aligns with the fanon designs so thats cool. when it doesnt align i do feel a bit off tho- like no, that isnt me. you got it wrong. ironically this happened with a recent canon update, when they added melanie WHO IS DEAD. she was supposed to BE dead and STAY dead. and then also, why do i welcome her back?? why am i so friendly?? i mean i get that shes like friends or smth with split, but i just dont trust her. i have no reason not to, i just dont. that is WRONG. you. NO. get OUT.

ooh ooh! i like this question. i have a large, reptile-like (but hairy) non-prehensile tail! my hands and feet are clawed, with only 4 digits. for my feet i have like thumb things coming out of my heels, similar to a bird. i likely am very similar the upcoming remodel, but i cant confirm as i have not seen it. i just know im not a roblox character, and the previews of splits remodel feel very familiar.

ah.. ships. i dont see much of them outside me n split. if i do i just think its a bit weird, and move on. i wish i was seen as more than just someone who likes her. theres more to me. the majority of bive fans are mainly spive fans. i decided to look myself up on tumblr and i was just flooded with shipart. there is MORE TO ME. I AM MORE THAN HER. PLEASE SEE ME FOR ME.

in current lore me and split have feelings for each other (cant relate, im aro, but spive is in my canon tho) and are GOING to confess but that has not happened yet. i feel kinda weird abt it since i have very mixed feelings on romance, but i think we are a thing in my canon, because MY GOD I MISS SPLIT SO MUCH. I MISS HER.

Alex's fictionkin ask game!

(mostly for fictional characters)

🌲 - what is your fictotype?

🪲 - do you miss your home? Or maybe you're happy that you're here?

🐸 - do you have any sourcemates? If yes, who/what are they?

🌳 - in scale 1-10, how are you similar to your canon?

🌿 - does your fictotype have a different sex/gender identity than your body/you?

☘️ - what aspect of life does your identity affect the most?

🪴 - is your fictionkin experience unpleasant or enjoyable for you?

🍃 - what reminds you of your fictotype? (E.g.: a figurine, a doll, a tv series)

🌄 - on what level is your identity? (E.g. spiritual, psychological, psychical)

🐢 - do you experience shifts? Of yes, how do they look like?

🥝 - what is your source?

🐛 - how do you feel about fanarts of you and fanfictions?

🌵 - do you look exactly like in your source or do you look different? If you do, then what is different?

🥀 - what do you think about ships with you?

🦕 - do you have/had a loved one in your source?

♪♪♪

So, yeah, that's all! :D

Reblog this, so the others can ask you questions or answer them all right now, if you want to :>

[starbula]

Felis catus

prompt: parents rating: G (except for a tiny profanity at the beginning) for @starbulaweek, day 4

“This is bullshit. She’s my cat.”

Peter was whining again. This was becoming a daily conversation and Nebula was growing bored of it. “It’s really not my fault, and for the record, she’s our cat. Just because you found her doesn’t make her yours.” 

Peter glared at the cat in question, who was curled up in Nebula’s lap, purring loudly. Too loudly, if you asked Peter. The cat was mocking him, he was sure of it. 

Peter grumpled, “She was playing with me for the past hour, but as soon as you show up I’m chopped liver.”

Nebula smiled down at the cat and scratched between its ears. Peter could have sworn he heard her whisper “Good girl”. 

“I can’t help it if I’m her favourite parent.” Nebula said, “maybe you should try being nicer to her.”

“Nicer? I found her on Earth and gave her a home. I feed her every day and clean out her litter–and let me tell you that girl can do some pretty big things for her small size.” Peter made a gagging noise. 

“I don’t know what to tell you.” Nebula was laughing now, “If it’s any consolation, I’m 75% sure Cosmo likes you.”

☆

[drowninginthoughts27]

Sirius and James would 1000% get the slightest bit tipsy and randomly start doing the Rasputin dance,,, it’s one of their many party tricks

[writers-potion]

Writing Mad Characters

Okay this is a bit awkward because I had this question copypasted into Google Docs I use to draft my answers, and I realized I've lost the question in my inbox (which is being flooded).

So...I'm so sorry for whoever asked this question. Sorry for the delay because I was struggling with life in general for the past month and definitely SORRY for losing your question (－‸ლ)

Q: I'm writing a story where a major character is slowly spiraling into madness where small details kinda hint into the downfall right before the bigger details appear and then it the floodgates open. Is there anything I should avoid? Anything that I should keep in mind? Anything that I should research?

Things to Avoid

“Mad” or “Insane” is too general. Writing a cliched ‘crazy’ character who randomly talks to imaginary people and lashes out at strangers, you’ll offend a whole bunch of people who've gone through/have mental illnesses. Read up on existing mental conditions (schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, post-traumatic disorder and borderline personality disorder, etc.) to see what your character might have. 

Words like “mad” “crazy” or “insane” aren’t enough when you’re describing their status. As mentioned, these words hardly mean much when it comes to providing a clear description.

Contradicting yourself. Throwing random unhinged symptoms here and there wouldn’t work. In fact, you must have a clear arc on which they’re traveling and ensure that your “hints” are all getting at something.

Making the character overly destructive or harmful to others (when nothing really justifies it)

Justifying damaging behavior with this “madness”. Mad or not, your character will still have motives and goals that drive them forward. 

Making them look incompetent just the fact that they have a mental condition that makes them appear “mad” to others shouldn’t prevent them from achieving success. In fact, they may be even more cool-hearted and logical when it comes to their obsessions/goals. 

Research Tips

Narrow down the mental conditions your character experiences. Even if it’s a fictional condition, try basing it on existing ones and building on top of them. 

Take some time to study characters and/or real clinical cases that resemble the kind of madness you’re going for. 

- Anxiety Disorders: excessive fear and dread (ex. phobias) - Mood Disorders: persistent swings in mood or persistent feelings that interfere with daily life (ex. Depression, bipolar) - Psychotic Disorders: disordered thinking (ex. schizophrenia) - Eating Disorders: extreme emotional attitudes toward food (ex. Bulimia, anorexia) - Impulse Disorders: unable to resist urges (ex. Kleptomania, pyromania, gambling) - Personality Disorders: extreme inflexible personality traits (ex. Anti-social disorder, OCPD) - Past Traumatic Stress: persistent, frightening memories leading to emotional numbness 

Does your character have empathy?  

A sociopathic kind of madness is different. 

General Writing Tips for Spiraling into Madness

Establish a Baseline 

A lot of factors (stress, family history, innate personality, trauma, etc.) can contribute to madness, but it is not going to happen in a week. Define the existing mental and physical conditions your character has, and start from there. 

If you’re aiming for suicidal tendencies at the end, you want to start with symptoms of depression (a condition that may lead to suicide) - growing apathetic, erratic sleeping patterns, irritability, etc. 

This is also the stage where you want to plant some triggers that’ll go off later.

Trigger Events

A perfectly sound character suddenly spiraling down the madness route due to a single accident or traumatizing event isn’t convincing. 

A madness “snap” denies the reader the experience of watching the character’s journey into madness and how they feel about it. 

Internal Conflict (antagonist in himself) 

You must remember that madness is incurable. If someone could “cure” themselves by eating healthy, exercising and taking a few pills, it wouldn’t be much of a madness, would it? This means that the worst antagonist is going to be the character themselves, or the part of them that’s been taken away. 

Show how they are frustrated with themselves, scared of themselves, angry at their “alternative self”. The experience of not knowing yourself is a whole journey of its own.

Physical Manifestations/Quirks

If your character has a routine, show how they break down. 

They might develop habits that they otherwise would never allow themselves to have, perhaps as an effort to “keep this madness out”

Deteriorating Relationships

Depict how the character’s madness impacts his closed/loved ones. In the earlier stages, those close to him might be faster to notice and accept the signs of madness, even if the character denies it him/herself.

The first signs of madness might show when the character is trying to deal with difficult relationships - like losing patience and being unable to pick up subtle social clues.

Choosing Obsessions Over Primal Urges 

For these characters, obsession can take over a person’s normal urge to eat, sleep or even live. This can lead to, more or less, suicide. 

Example: In Black Swan, Nina’s obsession with becoming the perfect ballerina drive her to insanity, to the point where she doesn't mind dying on stage for the show.

[novy2sirius]

BRUTALLY HONEST NUMEROLOGY

⬫ lower vibrational vs high vibrational

⬫ note: most of the negative things you’re reading are only applicable to lower vibrational people (people who are consistently at a lower vibration due to their actions). these things of course will not apply to everyone as all your numerical energies play an importance in you and your life experiences do as well

⬫ tw: porn (18+ only), divorce, abandonment

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ the real compatibility of astrology signs lies in the numerology. everyone goes by elements, but i’m sure anyone who has met people and examined enough dynamics between signs can tell that it’s just not accurate with the “fire is compatible with air and earth is compatible with water” bs. the two most compatible signs based on numerology that are soulmates are capricorn and sagittarius’. sag season starts 1122 and capricorn season starts 1221. this is one of the many reasons why. it may be confusing for numerology newbies, but i can explain it in depth in another post eventually

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ i don’t think 7’s are good lovers unless they’re 16’s usually. i’m sorry, like i said these are honest.. it’s the same way i feel about strong aquarius energy in an astrology chart. they just don’t know how to put others first, be thoughtful, or be in a relationship in general. usually the men, sorry. they have a tendency to fall weak to any sexual behavior they’re surrounded by. i’ve witnessed many of my friends (even 11’s who are quite compatible with 7’s) get heartbroken by these 7 men because the second a pick me girl tries to get with them while they’re in a relationship, they don’t even try to have self discipline and be loyal. they’re just pervs usually or narcissistic and will find a way to always make you feel as though everything is your fault even though they’re the ones that don’t put effort into relationships. they tend to be better independent. 7 is known as the number of “the loner” for a reason. i don’t think they’re all literal “loners”, but they operate better alone than with others

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ i have never had good experiences with people that have prominent 19 energy (one of the unreduced 1’s). it could just be that most people with it have lots of negative past life karma, so it’s indicative they have not been a good person in recent past lives. i also believe it has to do with the home environment they often grow up in though. many people that i’ve met with this energy have unbalanced emotional energy simply because they grew up in a chaotic household and now they don’t know how to control their anger or other emotions. 1’s in general sometimes don’t know how to. however, i don’t think any number can directly cause someone to be a bad person, that’s ridiculous. just like with astrology, it does not make you do anything. i’m sure there is people with 19 energy that are good people out there, i just have not yet met any unfortunately. i’ve also noticed they have big ego’s.. like jojo siwa born on the 19th for example. she comes off very cocky and tries to act like it’s just sexy confidence like other women, but it really comes off like a cocky white man instead, which also makes sense with 1 being the number of masculinity and 9 being the number of the ego. to be fair it’s an intense number to have, but these people can be egotistical and just mean as hell sometimes. i will add something good to this since this was a very harsh take. these people can have things come back to them super duper fast, so if they put their energy toward positive things then they can attract better into their life then they’ve gotten in the past

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ i have yet to meet someone with 25 energy who isn’t a hoe or hasn’t been a huge one at some point. as we know, 2 doubles the energy of the number it’s next to and 5 is the number of sex. this creates lots of sexual energy in people with this number. they tend to also run the porn industry and only fans industry. an example is lana rhoades who was the number one porn star in the world for a while. she was born in 1996 which adds to 25 (1+9+9+6=25). also i do not want to see 13 year olds commenting “i’m not a hoe”. i would hope not, you’re a child..

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ almost everyone with 14 energy in their birthday has had a person in their family abandon them as 14 is related to abandonment. often people with this energy always have divorced parents as well or had a parent leave them when they were really young unfortunately. a good thing about this number though is it can create a very self disciplined energy in someone and cause them to not need others to thrive in the way other numbers do

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ people with 9 energy (especially 27) will accuse you of doing the shitty things that they’re doing when they’re lower vibrational and gaslight you. i would say this number is one of the worst gaslighters. my friends and i have had such bad experiences with the lower vibrational people with it that we literally refer to it as “the number of gaslighting”. they also will never let go of things. even if you got into one tiny fight they will hold things against you forever and don’t know how to forgive and move on. however, i also have met people with 27 energy that aren’t immature in this way and are very intelligent

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ people with 3 energy are the absolutely worst secret keepers. do not tell them your secrets. it’s the number of communication and gossip. as much as some of them hate to admit it they love drama. they’re fun to hang out with though and often the life of the party

[ghoulphile]

no use cryin' over spilled milk | c.h./the ghoul

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 2.8 k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, frottage, lactation kink, pregnant!reader, fingerfucking, praise kink, breast play, the ghoul calls reader pretty mama, he's a pervert who wants to lend a 'helping' hand ➥ summary | based off this ask; oops being an experiment from vault 4 where you may be the first rad resistant human pregnant with a possibly rad resistant baby, and you come across the ghoul who helps you get to a safe place but then he gets attached with you and the baby 🥺 (this is just me trying to insert a lactation kink somewhere i'm sorry) ➥ notes | uhhhh pls let me know if i missed anything, my brain is dribbling out my ears (its 3:44 am and i have work at 8 am rip) but the parasites persist. i'll do the tag list when i wake up ❤️ masterlist | feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | feedback is always appreciated ❤️

Going topside wasn’t an easy decision.

In fact, bile bitter regret often lingers in the back of your throat - a lump that stifled the air in your lungs.

And while you might’ve been bioengineered to survive better under these harsh wasteland conditions, every time you find yourself in a less than ideal situation, you're catapulted headlong into paralyzing self doubt; alone and rudderless.

No one lives in the vaults - not truly.

Birdie (and the others) warned you of what awaited beyond those lead-lined walls. But you couldn’t abide spending the rest of your life trapped in a cage, albeit a gilded one.

Not anymore.

Oh no, you wanted to feel a real breeze instead of air pumped through the HVAC. Experience the sun baking warm into your skin like fresh bread instead of the artificial heat of the UV lamp used for mandatory light therapy sessions. Complain about the chafe of sand in your shoes and hear the crunch of dirt under foot instead of a hollow clunk of sterile metal.

To witness first hand all the sights, sounds, and smells this world offers. 

Only… you didn’t expect it to be this hard.

Nor did you expect to be pregnant when setting off into the great unknown on your own (a definite oversight on your part [you really shouldn’t have had one last hurrah before hitting the road]).

Through trial and error, motion sicknesses that swing into crippling nausea as manic energy - your first taste of true freedom! - dwindled into dragging fatigue, you found a happy medium. None of which would have been possible had it not been for the most unlikely of companions.

Ghouls; who knew, huh?

Sure, you’d heard of them from the rotating door of visitors that found themselves at Vault 4, but you’d never seen them. While you grew up surrounded by visible mutations, seeing the battlefield of his body was off putting; how a person could survive a patina of burns and patchwork slices without unraveling at the seams was beyond you.

And kind of frightening.

But he took it in stride, introducing himself as Ghoul. Refused to divulge anything else of substance no matter how much you poked and prodded.  His life pre-bomb was a complete mystery filled with plot holes and unanswered questions (which is exactly what he preferred).

You learned to be comfortable with his meandering conversations, and all the words he spoke that said much of nothing. And what you did glean, you did so through observation alone. 

He was alone - had been for a very long time.

He was very old - one of the last of his kind.

And he was, in his own way, very kind - at least by wasteland standards.

“The fuck you doin’?”

Pausing, you stop mid push and hover awkwardly on your hands and knees. The vault suit pulls taut across your hips, pinching behind your knees uncomfortably. Your toes squeak in your shoes, socks thoroughly soaked through with sweat.

It’s been unseasonably hot (or it’s the hormones). Whatever the case, this is the first semi-decent lodging you’ve camped in for weeks, and you’re not about to miss an opportunity to freshen up.

And maybe find a way to soothe the building ache in your tits - flesh swollen tender and nipples rubbed raw.

“I’m just, uh, gonna,” you motion towards the back of the house, the askew bathroom door clinging to its hinges by a corner, “y’know, f-freshen up. See if they don’t still have some water.”

The Ghoul scans you up and down, gimlet-eyed. “S’that so?”

You huff, your knees starting to ache.

Being five months pregnant throws your center of gravity for a loop, the atmosphere weighing extra heavy on your bones. It doesn’t help that the baby’s decided sitting directly on your bladder with a foot tucked under your ribs is the best position.

“Didn’t know I needed permission to take a piss now,” you snipe. Usually, you try to reign in the hormones but the day’s been too long and you’re in pain. Anyone would be a little snippy (right?). “Can I do that on my own or do you need to watch, Mr. Ghoul?”

A faint smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, his gaze glinting from beneath the rim of his hat as he tips his head. “Better watch it, sweetheart,” he says. “Otherwise, I might have’ta wash your mouth out with soap.”

Pushing yourself up with a grunt, you determinedly ignore the raspy chuckle that follows as you waddle towards the bathroom. Cussing him out all the while in your mind.

While he’s been ‘nicer’ today - stopping for extra breaks, even packing it in several hours earlier than usual because he noticed how weary you looked - he’s still an asshole.

The toilet’s gone, the tub’s tipped sideways, the linoleum’s cracked, and closing the door sounds like a pack of howling mole rats but its functional. When you catch your reflection in the spider web fractures of the mirror, you grimace.

The wastes have certainly left their mark on you. Gone is the prim-and-proper vault dweller, replaced by a gremlin of a woman Overseer Benjamin would surely scowl at.

A true ‘surfie’ now.

“Great,” you groan, scrubbing a palm over your face. “Just - ugh!”

You’re caked in grime, a steak of dirt smeared across the bridge of your nose. Mysterious stains darken the blue fabric, the golden stripes of your suit an off-putting grey.

Your hair clumps in greasy chunks. You’re glossy with sweat, and while your curves have plumped up over the last few months, you didn’t realize just how much until now.

The vault suit’s always been tight - now it clings and creases in unflattering places. And there’s nothing you can do about it, unless the Ghoul is willing to spare a sewing kit.

You could let the waist out some…

What the hell am I gonna do if he won’t? There’s no way I’ll fit if this baby gets any bigger. Shit, I look like a fucking sausage. Your hand cradles the side of your stomach, stroking over the bump with a frown. This is all your fault, you little parasite.

“You better be so fucking cute - the cutest goddamn baby in the wasteland. Or I will riot.”

Tugging down the zipper over your breasts is heaven, the swollen flesh spilling out of the parting fabric, no longer compressed. It’s almost enough to make you cry as you struggle to tug the lycra off your shoulders, the fabric putting up a fight.

After some awkward contortions that pull uncomfortably at the muscles of your shoulder blades, you manage to wrangle yourself free.

The temptation to burn the stupid goddamn suit is almost too much to resist, but then you’d really be traipsing around the wasteland in the nude and just… no.

Peeling off your undershirt is another story altogether, the soft cotton feeling like sandpaper as it scrapes over sensitive skin. Your nerves tingle with awareness, bolts of pain shooting through your nipples with every shift.

Quick like a bandaid, you think, taking a steadying inhale.

It’s a miracle you don’t scream.

Tears cling to your lashes, your nose running as you toss the shirt to the side with one hand and cradle your chest with the other. Sure, you’ve had tenderness with your period but this kind of pain? A whole new level.

You almost don’t know what to do with yourself.

How is this fair - aren’t you suffering enough?

Sniffling, you peer down at your tits and gingerly cup them with your palms. Swollen hard and warm to the touch; a heavy weight crushing your ribs.

Do I really have to milk myself like a fucking brahmin? Another bolt of lightning crackles through your nerve endings as if in response. Fine. God, this is embarrassing.

Only any attempt at touching your nipples produces pure agony, shards of glass biting into delicate skin.

No matter how slight your touch, no matter how gentle your fingers - it doesn’t work. Leaves you more distraught and in pain than when you began as inflamed nerve endings crackle and burn.

And when the tears truly start, the dam breaks. It’s not long before they drip down your cheeks in fat rivulets, your breath hitching from you in pathetic little exhales.

Your fist shoves against your mouth in an attempt to smother the sounds, teeth sinking into your knuckle until you leave sore indents.

But you should know better, not only does the Ghoul have heightened senses (he’s taunted you constantly with this fact like the asshole he is), but he’s uncannily perceptive in a very annoying way.

You don’t hear the squeal of the door, but you do sense his presence behind you; the rad warm burn of his body as he stops a scant few inches away. You feel his breath against the nape of your neck, the barest brush of his chest as he inhales.

“You ready ta stop bein’ stubborn?” he hums. “I thought I told you not ta wait s’long.”

Your voice warbles from you, “G’way.” You curl into yourself, shoulders hunching as you hang your head. “Don’t need your help.”

The Ghoul snorts. “Cuz you doin’ so well on your own, huh?”

“I resent that.” You shoot him a weak glare, the animosity ruined by the crumble of your lips. “I really, really do.”

You hate always having to rely on him, so desperate to prove that you can take care of yourself only to have every effort to do so thrown back in your face.

Shit, you hate how right Birdie was, “Honey, you won’t last five minutes on your own. Please stay here with us where it’s safe.”

“Well, maybe so. But pickers can’t be choosers, sweetheart,” he shrugs with a languid roll of the shoulders. “Ain’t no use cryin’ over spilled milk. C’mon, the longer you wait, the worse it’s gon be.”

“I just - you don’t understand…”

He reaches around you to set his hat on the sink, the dwindling light of twilight creeping in through the holes in the roof to bathe him in its bloody light.

He looks like a grotesque demon that clawed its way from the depths of hell. It gets your pulse thudding, electric awareness an unwelcome visitor as it roosts behind your navel.

“I understand plenty. Now, let me.”

Not an offer - not really.

More akin to a demand, one wrapped up pretty like a gift. You’ve been here many times before, and while the Ghoul proffers his help under the guise of not wanting to hear your bitching and moaning, the hungry gleam of his eyes as they rake over your face say otherwise.

If it’s one thing you’ve learned in your travels with him, it’s this: he is entirely self-serving. He offers because he wants to suck on a set of pretty tits. If you happen to cream your panties while he does, well, he counts it as a win-win.

Quid pro quo.

And what you hate more than how utterly correct everyone is about life on the surface, is how needy he makes you. How desperate and dumb and dripping he’s got you by the end, drunk off the flick of his tongue and the rasp of his touch.

Because it’s so hard to be strong in the face of pain when the solution is right there; open-palmed.

“...Fine, just don’t - don’t leave marks this time, okay?”

A slow waking smile creaks across his face, and he says, “I ain’t makin’ any promises, sweetheart.”

Your stomach swoops, and your thighs clench.

Shit.

Scarred lips work over tender flesh as a talented tongue flicks and swirls over the bumps of your areola, the tip digging into your nipple and drawing the swollen nub into a hot mouth. You whimper, arms tossed over the Ghoul’s broad shoulders.

Cold ceramic digs into the base of your spine, your body crowded back against the sink as he plasters himself to your front. Cuts off any escape routes and refuses to let you squirm away from the overwhelming sensations as he suckles.

Heavy palms grope at the plush curves of your hips, fingertips digging into the fat.

His lips pop off your nipple with a sticky smack. “Always taste s’fucking good,” he groans against your sternum. “Got the prettiest set a tits in the wasteland.”

“Hnn! N-Not so hard.”

While you say that, you don’t mean it - not really. Your pussy throbs in time with your heartbeat, clit swollen and aching for friction. Your inner thighs are a mess of slick, your vault suit caught around your knees.

He never touches you below the waist directly (some boundaries still exist between you two), but at this point in your pregnancy, you’re so sensitive a gentle breeze could set you off.

“Heh, ain’t you know lyin’s a sin?” he says.

A scarred cheek drags over the swell of your breast, the rasp of rad burn alighting your nerves. Bolts of desire ricochet down your spine, fizzle like Nuka Cola on your tongue. He presses an open mouth kiss to your nipple, his tongue flicking out to massage the tender bud.

At the taste of your skin, his cock twitches where its grinding against your thigh. You feel him through his ragged pinstripe slacks, his shaft a thick line of heat.

It’s probably the hormones (you refuse to admit its anything else) but just the thought of touching him, of sinking down onto his erection - feeling how fucking good he’d stretch you out and fill you up - makes you dizzy.

You pant, your voice distinctly whiny when you say, “Please, d-do something. It still hurts.”

His grin reminds you of the mongrels roaming the wastelands. “Sh,” he hushes you. “I got you, sweetheart.”

The tips of his fingers brush along the side of your swollen stomach. Your heart flips in your chest, your breath catching as he follows the contours of your body, reaching down to brush over the skin of your mound. This is new, he’s never done this before. It’s simultaneously as arousing as it is terrifying.

“Can smell how wet you are for me,” he says, tone low and gruff. “You gonna be a good girl for me, ain’t you?”

“I-”

Then his mouth is slurping at your tit, his teeth biting down on your nipple gently as those strong fingers dip between your thighs. Blunt nails scratch through your pubic hair, a calloused pad swirling circles around your slippery clit. Your hips jump, your head rolling back between your shoulders as a loud moan rips itself from your throat.

You arch back so far your belly presses against the Ghoul’s, your tits smothering his face.

You think, half deliriously, it’s a good thing he doesn’t have a nose otherwise you might’ve broken it.

“Shit, that’s so - oh, fuck, please, please, please!’

Your legs widen to make room for his hand as yours fly up to grab his biceps, nails biting into the rough leather of his duster.

His tongue flutters across your areola. “C’mon, pretty mama, give it ta me.”

“Oh.” Sparks dance behind your eyes, your knees shaking as the Ghoul strokes over your folds, tests your wetness and the give of your cunt as he plays with your entrance. “Right there,” you gasp. “I’m gonna…”

He grunts, tugging on your nipple with his teeth.

The sharp bite of pain shoots through you, deepens the kindling warmth behind your navel that steadily builds and builds and builds. You feel on the very edge, nerves plucked like the keys of a piano.

So close you can taste it.

Then a tingling starts in the tips of your fingers.

Burns its way up your arms to settle in the weight of your chest, pins and needles pricking across the skin of your tits, lancing through the swollen buds of your nipples.

You tremble, the relief bringing tears to your eyes as tears the heaviness releases in a warm flood, your milk letting down to flow into the Ghoul’s eagerly pulling mouth.

“Fuckin’ finally,” he moans, chasing after the taste by nuzzling into your chest. His cock ruts against you. “Took you’re sweet damn time, didn’t you, darlin’?”

Your head spins, hazy thoughts scattering like confetti.

Endorphins simmer through your veins as you float on a cloud of cotton softness. Reality seems worlds away, your vision blurry as you focus on the points of contact between your bodies. The stretch of his fingers plunging into your pussy to stroke over the front wall.

Mouth slack, your hands creep up the Ghoul’s arms to trace over the sides of his neck, watch the dance of your fingers over his skin. “It feels s’good,” you slur. “Please don’t stop - wanna cum just like this.”

“Heh, wouldn’t dream of it.”

[fatkish]

Heyy, i wanted to request a Eresermic im which Aizawa has a biological daughter, but she is being bullied and they noticed when she was already thinking in ending it all.

I understand if this is too dark, i just lived something similar and my parents blamed me, so some confort would be apreciared hahaha

Thankss, i love your writing 🩷

(Oh my gosh, this hits so close to home because this happened to me. My parents grew up in the era where if boys were mean to you it was because they like you. So when I begged them to do something about my bullies, they did nothing. Needless to say, my childlike innocence was the only reason why I’m alive. Although I may be doing better than I was back then, nothing can erase the trauma from the unintentional neglect from my parents. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ll be basing this somewhat off of my own experience and I’ll be putting it in the Pro Heroes x Inner Child Series)

Erasermic x Aizawa’s Bullied Daughter Reader

(TRIGGER WARNING: This story has mentions of bullying, harassment, allusions to suicide and suicidal thoughts, depression and other potentially triggering topics. Please be advised)

Since you basically have two dads, you refer to Hizashi as papa and Shouta as dad

Your quirk was called restraint. Basically if you called someone by their real, full name, you could temporarily restrain them as long as you focused on them

But just like your dad, you also had to be able to see your target

But unlike your classmates, you were a late bloomer. You developed your quirk at age 8, which led to you being bullied by your peers

You knew that your dad’s worked really hard and that their jobs were really stressful at times. So the last thing you wanted was to be another source of stress for them. Which is why you didn’t tell them about the bullying

You were 11 when you just couldn’t take it anymore. You tried to deal with the situation on your own, you tried to fight your bullies who even started making fun of your dad’s being a couple

You tried not to let anyone’s words affect you but after so many years, you started to believe them too. And you began to bully yourself

You would tell yourself that your dad’s already had enough stress on their plates and that you were just a burden on them. You had started to mentally and physically beat yourself up

The bullies had started to use their quirks on you, resulting in bruises which you would hide with makeup that your Aunt Nemuri had gotten you since you started to develop acne

Since your dads would get home late, you had plenty of time to get home and cover up any wounds

One day, you just had enough

You decided that you were better off dead. You decided that you would take your own life after you got home and would leave a note before leaving the house so your dads wouldn’t have to deal with the body

Unknown to you, Aizawa had gotten a call from one of your teachers who was concerned about you. She had seen you fighting and decided to give Aizawa a call since your grades and overall performance had declined significantly

Aizawa had informed Hizashi of the call and they decided to go home early and wait for you. They believed that you were going through puberty and the hormonal changes were effecting your performance and were the cause

Imagine their surprise when you get home, covered in bruises, a busted lip that was still bleeding and a completely dead look in your eyes

Seeing their precious baby in such a state they immediately started to worry and begged you to talk to them

They had prepared your favorite food for dinner and even got you your favorite dessert as a treat. Seeing how sweet they were, you broke down and confessed your pain and your plan

Hizashi was balling his eyes out and wrapped you in his arms while Aizawa had clenched fists with tears in his eyes.

Aizawa made the call to your school demanding a talk with the principal and the parents of your bullies. While Aizawa was setting that up, Hizashi had you sit on the couch while he tended to your wounds, disinfecting them, cleaning them and bandaging them

He told you that he loves you even though you’re not his biological kid, you’re HIS little listener, his favorite kid in the whole world. He then picked you up and smothered you in hugs and kisses

Aizawa came back into the room and brought the food

That night, you guys are on the couch as you snuggled together under a blanket and watch your favorite movie

The next day, Aizawa and Hizashi dropped you off at UA with Nemuri, while they had a talk with your teachers and bullies. They decided that homeschooling would be the best for you right now since they want to make sure you heal mentally, physically and emotionally from this before you go back

They had told Nedzu what happened and he agreed that for the meantime, until you were mentally stable again, the safest bet would be to have you do your homeschooling at UA where you’ll be surrounded by people who can help you and prevent you from doing anything detrimental to yourself

Needless to say, they love you and you are their whole world and you’re the reason why they fight to come home. You’re their motivation and the reason they fight to protect

(I hoped this helps you and that you guys enjoy this)

[nether-ending-dream]

The LADS Boys' Realistic Kinks

What are they actually into?

Kink list and imagines ♡

I feel like a lot of the kink lists I've seen for the guys haven't been realistic/match their characteristics. Therefore, I wanted to write my own and see whether or not you guys agree with its accuracy! Remember, this is just fiction, and I'm going based off my own thoughts and personal, sexual experiences. Let me know if you're interested in full fics or short imagines. I'd be down to write them or take requests. With that said, enjoy!!

♡♡♡

Rafayel

Switch

Teases/Acts bratty to initate sex

Loves getting and giving hickeys

Thigh fucking

Chastity cages

Would like to try sounding but is too scared.

《Raf!sub》 Impact play. He specifically likes paddles with that leave hearts/designs.

All his toys are aesthetically pleasing and match.

Tail butt plugs, but he's shy so he tends to only wear them when masturbating on his own.

《Raf!sub》 Likes handcuffs, but doesn't like rope (doesn't like how itchy and rough it can feel).

《Raf!dom》 Very much into shibari and practices on mannequins with he's not with you.

Dacryphiliac. Loves being made to cry from pain and occasionally likes seeing you cry from pleasure (makes him feel like he's doing a good job)

《Raf!sub》 Likes receiving anal and keeps his butt clean and prepped

《Raf!dom》 Loves getting head the most because it boosts his ego. He can get very rough with your hair and have you drolling everywhere.

Definitely talkative during sex. Usually a lot of affirmative words and moaning. Checks in quite often and overall pretty conversational during.

In my experience with numerous bottoms, this tends to be how they are. However, as you all know, he enjoys being dominant as well. Though he can be very whiny and shy, he is also caring and intuitive. He prides himself on knowing all your sweet spots and making you into a pretty mess at the end. I'm a professional artist too, so I know the need to strive for perfection in all aspect of our lives. Sex is no different, he's definitely the type who googled "how to kiss" as a teen.

Xavier

Switch but mainly a dom

Exhibitionist. Likes sneaky touches in public or sex in the woods. Quite possessive, but won't make a scene about it.

Vocal and obvious about when he's riled up. Master of foreplay and teasing.

Likes watching you get him off. He adores your face when you go down on him.

Lots of "good girl" and praises

《Xav!sub》 Always tries to hold back moans and act tough while he takes it. Less bratty and more nonchalant. But he likes taking orders from you and letting you lead.

《Xav!dom》 has a thing for spit and degradation. He likes it sloppy.

Somnophiliac. Sleepy sex, cuddle sex, morning sex, etc.

Toys and vibrators to enhance the session

Not really into bondage cause he likes when you're both touchy and explore with your hands.

《Xav!sub》 Surprisingly would be into cross dressing or puppy play

I don't really know anyone like Xavier in real life, since he's so myserious and calm. He's like a hidden gem when it comes to sex. Tends to be more vanilla, but hes still very flirtatious and can be rough. Since he finishes quick, he loves edging. Doesn't really sleep around, so it may seem like he's inexperienced, but hes extremely loyal.

Zayne

Soft dom, doesn't really enjoy bottoming, he'd rather pleasure you.

Lots of soft words, pretty pet names, and check-ins to make sure you're okay. Loves getting you to be vocal. Will pretend he didn't hear you so you can say dirty things.

His favorite position is doggie while holding your arms back. He loves looking at you and flashes a smile while you're turned around.

Bodyworship and massages, takes his time leaving kisses and soft bites all over you.

Premium aftercare and knows how to set the mood. Lots of candles, dim lights and soft music.

Guilty pleasure is roleplay. He can really get into it and play along. He thinks its fun to dress up as different dynamics.

[I've been waiting for this moment my whole life] Sounding. Since he's a surgeon, he has access to the high quality rods. He knows how to sound safely and loves either sounding you or himself.

Though he is sweet, he can be rough when he's really riled up. He'll mumble words with his head thrown back, picking up speed and grabbing you tightly.

Only slightly spanking, but he does enjoy watching you tear up from pleasure. He likes watching your ass get red.

Really into your thighs and labia. Will spenda lot of time kissing you there before eating you out.

Of course his surgeon hands know your weak points. Master at fingering.

Has a thing for tongues, whether it's watching you lick his shaft, putting his fingers in your mouth or licking your body.

With him, you'll probably never have bad sex in your life. Though if he's too "by the book" and gets formulatic, just let him know because he definitely has new things he wants to try. Super keen to your needs and can never get enough of you. He can usually go for multiple rounds. Master of aftercare.

Sylus

Strictly a dom. He gets a laugh out of watching you try to dominate him, but it always ends up with him back on top.

Heavily into impact play. His tool of choice tends to be a belt

Bondage with cuffs and blindfolds. He's not as dedicated to learning shibari as an art form, but he knows basics ties and how to do it safely.

Not into public exhibitionism (he has an image to uphold), but he loves a private show. He enjoys watching you from afar (lap dance, pole dance, mutual masturbation, etc.)

Slightly into voyeurism, in the sense that he loves teasing you by walking around the house with only a towel or a robe.

His secret fanstasy is dog masks. In an alternate universe where you're dominating him, he'd love to get on his knees with a collar.

LOVES anal. Although he is always sure to fully prep you, the second you're ready, it's non-stop roughness until you both finish.

Fingering>Head. While he does enjoy watching you go down on him, he gets too riled up too quick and wants his hands all over your body.

If he is getting head, he's definitely throat fucking you with your neck over the bed.

Definitely into knife play and I think he'd also enjoy spurs.

Wax and temperature play

Dirty, nasty talk. Lots of curses (unless you don't like that, he accommodates to you) lots of pet names.

Biting and grabbing whenever he can.

Loves giving oily massages.

Baths/showers for aftercare + body worship

Reluctantly giving credit where it's due, Aries knows how to fuck. It's going to be rough and heated. Since he's a busy guy, he always makes sure to give his darling a good time. He's a try everything once kind of guy, so whatever you have in mind, he'll make it happen. Very confident in his sexual abilities, but is always looking to improve any weak points.

[leidensygdom]

The ways in which being asexual feels isolating

I've been pondering whether to post this or not, but I figured out I wanted to explain a bit of this experience.

So, I could go on a very long tangent on how being asexual is usually a lonely experience, and how much I've been otherized here and there- Specially in real life. How the same people that claimed to be queer (or allies) had been much weirder about my asexuality than they were about me being bi/pan or whatever.

But I think I wanna talk about how something like that bleeds in every aspect of socializing, even down to something like fandom. I stay away from fandom usually- I like to look at cool fanart and that's about it. I hate discourse, I hate drama, I hate reading people getting worked up because they're treating fanon as canon. But there's one thing I've noticed, over and over, that just sends me off my rails.

And it's how fandom tends to treat asexuality (or aromanticism). So, you get a character in some piece of media that explicitly, unequivocally, states they're either ace, aro, or both. "I do not have interest in a partner", "I don't desire to have sex nor do I enjoy the topic", whatever. And as an ace person, I do appreciate being able to see myself in media- There isn't many chases where something is established that bluntly.

Now, you decide you want to check some fanart for that. Fandoms have this tendency to make absolutely everything about shipping, even when the media they're basing it in does not revolve about that (and it's annoying, because a lot of times people aren't interested in the actual themes- It's all reduced to shipping). Suddenly, you notice people treating the aforementioned character as anything but aro or ace. It's all about shipping. "This person interacted with this other person in a way two friends would, but we gotta make this their entire personality now". Some people may instead go for "well, maybe the character is not having sex, but they're probably an absolute freak about it, studies it extensively, has encyclopedic knowledge about it-"

Now, there's of course sex-favourable aces, and that's completely valid, but it's already straying from what, canonically, the character had mentioned. Asexual or aromantic characters aren't really allowed to exist as themselves. People often see them as a blank slate to fill, to change, to fix. I could talk forever about how people react to real life aces like that. I've had people asking me incredibly invasive questions because they saw my lack of sexual attraction as something broken, something they could fix.

And I hate that! I think I'm allowed to say that I hate that! It's hard and unusual for media to cement an aro/ace character, because they're defined by the lack of interest for something, which is often hard to show. But when it does- No one seems to care. It's all shipping, it's all "well, he's gay in denial", "well, she's probably super repressed". If you took a canonically gay character and made them straight on a fanfic, you'd get angry people. Which is bound to happen when you erase representation that people identify with. But aro/ace characters are NOT even seen as queer, they're not even seen as "representation" by most people. You can erase that bit of it, put some god awful shipping on top, and people will applaud you. And it sucks!

I wish people would see being aro or ace as an identity worth respecting, not an identity that needs overwriting. It feels a bit too close to how people often treat aro/aces irl, and it sucks. It reeks of this sort of exclusionism, where "aro/aces are technically queer but it's queer lite at best, it's less interesting than being gay, and we kinda don't want them near us anyhow". Again, I've had far worse experiences about being ace than I have about not being straight.

Sorry if the post got long, but I hope this experience may at least resonate with other people who have been struggling with this, too. It has always felt just kind of lonely to be ace, and see how little people do even consider it an identity, even when it comes down to something like fandom.

[rsventhesecondd]

midnight rant,

╰ • → Featuring . Hayato Suo as your boyfriend ! ╯

sypnosis . whereas— you're an overthinker, desperately trying to save your friend group that is falling apart. You find no way to cope, but luckily your boyfriend, Suo is here for you. :3 , Hayato Suo x f!reader 

warnings . light cursing, mentions of mental health issues, abandonment issues, angst, self-vent, skin picking , fluff

note ⧽some parts may seem rushed or ooc in other peoples opinion. english isn't my first language, so please bare with oncoming vocabulary or grammatic mistakes. Based off real life experiences

authors note . hi! this is for all those people that overthink a lot specially when it comes to relationships. I didn't really explain more, it has so much lore potential too.. It's not really more of a you getting comforted once you read it, but rather it's a you being in the same situation again, but not being alone. I really wanted to write Suo, but I didn't know how. Anyways, this might be a subtle vent, foreshadow :3

—

You sat down the bench just a few steps far from Furin Highschool, your eyes welling up– unable to hold tears. You should've been home, if not for that argument you had with your  bestfriend. 

It was your mistake, it was your issue, you're the problem. Was what kept on replying all over your head like Broken record. What was is the cause of this scenario? let us go back. 

You lashed out, unable to control your feelings any longer. What was once joyful and full of glee, was now full of trepidation and gloom. Your two  close friends, somehow, two of your only close friends that you consider as close ones are starting to drift apart. You couldn't really blame them. You rarely meet, nor called. Rarely chatted, hell– whens the last time you guys ever talked about your own lives? They were all too busy with their places to be, and you were too. Not that you  didn't have any other people to interact with. But somehow, some part of you is missing the times where you three were happy, talking about this– your new crushes, how your lives has been going, laughing over stupid things, ranting about this and that about how annoying they were knowing damn well you were annoying too. But you couldn't care less, because at that time, you felt safe. It was as if a safe zone, your safe zone. But then things started to fall apart, barely chatting, updating, and the other more— you tried. You tried to replicate the same energy you've had before, you tried to bring back the joyous and gleefulness of memories that you've remember. Now realizing that it has only turned into a mysterious enigma written in the ink of stardust on the back of your brain. You were hysterical. How could such strong bond just fade away ever so quickly? The promises and plans made, are now starting to fade. 

Those tears welling up in your eyes not holding up any longer, flowing as they stream down your cheeks. You wipe them away with your sleeves, hoping the flow water from your eyes stop as you let out a sniffle. 

"[name]?" a familiar voice questions, causing you to instinctively turn your head away from where the noise came from. You begged to the gods that this was just a dream, hoping you were hallucinating. You were in such  disgraceful state, you don't need another problem to participate.  There you were on the bench, closing your eyes shut as you continuously picked on your skin, hoping that the man of that voice disappears into thin air. 

"[name], dear.. what happened?" the same voice from before said, inching closer. You open your eyes to see Suo with a worried expression. You quickly wipe your tears once more, using your tear stained sleeve, trying to utter out words, but it seems as if you couldn't speak. "Shh.. It's okay, my love." Suo says, sitting down beside you, resting your head on his shoulder. "You know, your skin will be irritated if you wipe your tears like that" he says in a gentle, but slight tease of a tone. He faces you, cupping your chin as he wipes your tears away with a handkerchief. As much as you wanted to push, maybe– shove him away even, you found yourself calming down from his actions. You wanted to go away as far as you could, you wanted to bury yourself deep underground. You've never shown him this side of you, and it terrified you. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong now?" he says with a smile, it's as if it wasn't even a question, rather a clarification. You take a deep breath and sighed, "It's just, my friend has been seeing this person lately, well, used to. And they've been ranting about how this person they're seeing is 'cheating' , only going to them when they need something, and other more stuff. It just pissed me off. My friend deserves more than that, and it got to me. I attacked their ex in spite, saying shit I didn't even know I would. And.. I know it's my fault, I wasn't in the right place to do that. And I apologized, I felt bad, I swear, I really did." you say, unbeknownst to you that tears are flowing down your eyes, fingers picking on your skin. Suo, nodding silently, his hand creeping up to yours, holding them– as a way to prevent you from picking on your skin. "But, I'm.. scared. I know we all make mistakes, and I know my friend is a good person and that they do forgive me. But I'm scared. I'm scared that it'll fall apart, I'm scared that they'll leave me– I'm scared that I caused a problem, that I break something again" you say, breath hitching as you tighten your grip on his hand.  "I contacted my other friend Kotoha, who I was closer with. We three were really close, and I know them a lot. Even though they don't realize it, I always observe how they react to different stuff. And, Kotoha was friends with the person I fought.  I reached out to them, after the argument, and apologizing to my other friend because of the situation I've created, and after awhile Kotoha never replied even though they were online. And, I can't judge them, they might've not seen it, and they've been there for me a lot too. But I just can't help but overthink at the most little things, and I hate it. I hate it so much, I–"  you stammer, cut off by a light kiss on the lips. "I understand." Suo says, wrapping his arm around your back, his hand pushed you ever so slightly to his chest– pulling you into a hug. "You can't really force someone into a relationship, [name]. Platonic or not, if the relationship is not working and there is no solution, best leave things be" , he says, patting your head. "If the friendship wasn't it, then it's all part of the plan of fate. Mistakes are normal, [name]. And if they truly are friends, people you consider you can trust the most then.. , they will accept you for who you are. Your flaws, mistakes, but that doesn't mean they'll tolerate it. If the gods have decided that friendship truly is not meant for you three, then let it be and accept things for what they already are. Yes, it'll be hard, but I'll be here with you. I'll accept you for who you are, flaws, and secrets kept. I'll be with you when you need me, and when you're alone. I'll accept you with my all of my heart. Just like you did with me" he added, moving his hand to pat your back soothingly. This time, you weren't crying from sadness, or terror. You were crying tears of glee. 

"Let's buy ice cream? My treat of course." Suo says, standing up– reaching his hand out to you, the other behind his back as usual. "Really?" you exclaim, eyes brightening up as you let out a sniffle, him nodding in response.  "And let's put some cream on your hands after wards, get you fixed up" he added.

"Okay! I love you!" You said in your same bubbly mood, almost forgetting the events of today. 

"I love you too, my dove" he says in a soft tone, giving you a look of love. 

note . this had so much lore potential. I'm gonna rewrite this whole, trust.

[millaaster]

How They Treat You During Periods - Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Itadori Yuji, Fushiguro Megumi x Reader (Separate)

Summary: How some of the JJK men react to and treat you during periods!

Words: 1051

CW: SFW; Fluff; Domestic Fluff; Crack; Periods; Blood mentions.

AN: this a complex topic because everybody who menstruates has a different organism and a different dynamic, so this is very based on my own experiences, but i tried thinking about situations that could include more people ok :')

Please, do not repost or translate.

GOJO SATORU - More chill than you thought he would be. The first time you talked about it was when you had cramps during a date and tried to talk him out of doing anything.

He just came right out "Hey, there's nothing to be shy about! I'm just definitely not letting my woman suffer in front of me just to save face!" 

He sits you down, holds you close and asks if you're ok. "If you don't have medicine on you, we can stop by a store to get it while heading to your place". Escorts you home, makes you tea and tucks you in to nap. 

After you've been together long enough he's started getting real good at tracking your cycles and adjusting whatever plans you have. "Hm... honey, I've been thinking of taking some days off and heading to the beach, but next week would be no good for you right? Should we wait a little?" 

He stuffs you in candy and treats if you're feeling down (sure he'll snatch some of those...). 

One day you get a message from him:

"Babe SOS   Do we have any first aid home?  My nose is kinda bleeding...hehe"

"Toru!! You ok??  There should be some cotton balls in the bathroom" 

When you get home you find him with a whole ass tampon stuck up his nostril...."Satoru!!! What the hell are you doing?!?"

"Oh hey, honey! Sorry, couldn't find the cotton balls but figured this was even better and it DOES work wonders!", he tells you with a proud grin on his face... 

GETO SUGURU - Suguru may seem a little indifferent, but it's just that he doesn't want to step over your independence. He's trying not to overdo things and will only act after you actively ask for something.

That being said, if that's what you want, he's an expert in doing your chores and cleaning the house for you. 

He was once doing the laundry and you caught him staring at your sheets.

"Something wron-" you gasp, realizing there's a big blotch of blood in it.

"Babe! You don't have to wash this one!" you cry, feeling your face burn red.

"What are you talking about? I was just trying to remember how to take off blood stains", lifting it out of your reach as you try to grab it. "Was it vinegar or lemon..." he mumbles, walking over to your kitchen cabinets. 

He secretly enjoys that you get mellower and needy with him. You won't have to ask twice if you demand an extra tight hug. 

Loves aromatherapy and gave you a whole kit with a diffuser and oils that ease pain and help with relaxation. If you don't use it he'll pout and nag non stop until you turn it on. "Suuuguu...you're giving me more headaches than my uterus right now dear..." "If you had it on from the start there would be no ache whatsoever, dummy!" 

He's now GREAT with massages. You've always complained about how your back and thighs ache when you're menstruated, so he took some lessons to help you out with that. 

NANAMI KENTO - With Nanami it's princess treatment all the way! This man thinks it's freaking amazing how you'll have to deal with this for so long in your life, through work and everything, and that you're badass for that. I mean, you're literally bleeding!!! That's concerning enough to happen to someone he loves. 

So he'll put all the effort he can to minimize any discomfort you have on those days. As soon as it became a regular thing for you to stay over at his place, he purchased all sorts of tea, heat pads and asked you to tell him what pads or tampons he should buy to stock some. 

He loves to have dates at home, so it's a win-win situation when you stay in; he cooks you something warm and lays around with you all day. "Is this position all right love?" While rubbing gently your stomach. 

He also loves to give you useful gifts, so once he even went as far as to surprise you with a new care kit from a high end brand in a box full of products to pamper you. 

The best to have around if you're out too. Never gets bothered if you have to go to the restroom too often and makes sure the place you're attending has good access to those. 

ITADORI YUJI - Freaks out a little when you tell him you don't feel like going on a date because you're on your period. He forgot such things were a very real thing if he was dating you. Has the mindset that, as his S/O, your period is his period too!! 

You're totally lost for words when he first tells you that.....he just means he feels responsible for your well being throughout this time. 

Definitely asks Nobara for help on how to help you feel better. 

He's a really active guy and always wants you to tag along and spend time with him, so he researched a lot about exercises that'll be better to practice during that time. 

At some point in your relationship will text you:

"yo babe, I'm at the pads aisle what's your pussy size??" 

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI - Also chill about it. An absolute angel when it comes to being patient to you, who turns into a SAINT if you're on your period. 

He just knows that there are better times to deal with any stressful matters than now, so it's only love with this guy for a few days. 

He prefers to talk to you in person instead of texting, but if you mention being on your period, you'll get the sweetest messages all day long popping up on your phone to check out how you're doing.

"Love, did you eat well?" "Hey, do you need anything?" "Sunshine, hope you're having a good day"  “Never forget you’re amazing”

Secretly, has also consulted Nobara and his sister to get some tips on what he could do.

Gets his dogs to cuddle with you in bed, to keep your belly warm, if he's busy around the house. 

He has a playlist with hours and hours of comfort movies you watch together when you don't want to leave the sofa/bed. He even watches your favorite shoujo with you if you ask!

A/N: also, yes, I do think Gojo and Geto being good parents (to Tsukimi, Mimiko and Nanako) have helped them learn about periods.

Interactions are always appreciated ☆* have a lovely day!

[holyblonded]

go ahead and cry little girl | golden girl

pairings: paige bueckers x oc (for a second) diana taurasi x daughter!oc, alexia putellas x teen!oc

summary: kenza never could quite understand why her dad could never show up; times throughout the years kenza has been let down

warnings: daddy issues and deadbeat dad 👻

notes: based off of real experiences 🫡 READ KENZA’S WIKI PAGE FOR BACKGROUND INFO

FOURTEEN YEAR OLD KENZA STARED LONGINGLY AT THE SEAT IN THE FRIENDS AND FAMILY SECTION.

It was her first El Clasico with the senior team and she knew her mom had told everybody. Kenza even invited him. She could hear her teammates celebrating their win as she should be, yet there she was staring at the cold, bare seat. Her eyes shifted to her Mom and Diana who both held sympathetic looks on their faces.

Kenza's inner turmoil was broken by Alexia who ran up and grabbed her face. "What's wrong, Amorcita? You scored the winning goal!"

Kenza couldn't bring herself to answer, instead she kept staring at the seat. Alexia followed her eyes, and after a silent conversation with Nor, she had figured it out. "Lo siento, mi Princesa," was all Alexia could offer as Kenza shoved her head to her chest.

"Why didn't he show up?" Kenza cried, loudly.

"Smile, Kenny!" Diana Taurasi told her freshly turned nine year daughter. Kenza smiled showing her gums off to the camera as the flash went off. "Look at you, pretty girl. Finally nine."

The family had decided to spend Kenza's ninth birthday in London as day after the Olympics ended. While Kenza, was excited to see her moms, she saw them quite often, she was quite revved to see her dad, someone she hadn't seen since early May.

"Mama, when is dad getting here?" Kenza decided to ask her mom. Kenza carefully observed her mom tense up before quickly recovering.

Nor, with a tight smile on her lips, responded, "Let me check, Chiquita."

Diana seemed to pick up on her fiancee's mood, "Aye Kenny, you ready to see Auntie Sue and Auntie Meg?"

Kenza's eyes brightened at the mention of her favorite aunties, "Wait, let me go put on my shoes," the birthday girl ran up the stairs of the rental as Nor unknowingly let go of the breath she was holding.

"Where is he?" Diana asked bitterly. She and the retired NBA player have publicly and privately bumped heads numerous times. Akoni calling her a "wife stealer." While Diana didn't like his alcoholism and reckless behavior around her family.

Nor sighed as tears welled in her eyes, "He's not coming at all. Got caught drinking and driving, he got charged with a DUI so now he's being checked into court ordered rehab," Her heart truly hurt for her daughter.

"Fuck," Diana muttered before pulling Nor into her, "Hey, Kenny is strong."

"That's the thing, she's nine. She's not supposed to be this strong. I keep letting him hurt her," Nor rancorously ranted, a tear slipping down her face before being quickly wiped away by Diana.

"It’s not your fault he is the easy he is,” Diana said through clenched teeth, “Don't worry, I'll tell her." She offered, gently directing her distraught fiancée to the couch before going upstairs to break the news to you. Five minutes later, Diana came downstairs with a sobbing child in her arms who just wanted comfort from her moms.

Kenza leg bounced up and down in the rather comfortable chair, lost in her thoughts. This was possibly one of the biggest nights of her life, the Ballon d'Or Awards; being nominated for the Kopa Féminin Awards has been the highlight of Kenza's season. If she won this award, she would be the first ever recipient to win the category.  Most importantly, it was the first award show her whole family was coming to.

Paige looked at the girl beside her and rested her hand on her knee before whispering in her ear, "I told you once, and I'll tell you again. You are going to win, stop being so nervous."

"I can't help it," Kenza mumbled back, inhaling sharply. Her eyes watched the stage, seeing her Auntie Meg take the stage.

A bit zoned out, Kenza came back to it when Paige nudged her as Megan announced the winner. "The first Kopa Féminin Award goes to..." Megan smiled as her voice broke with emotion, "my Kenny, Kenza Creoxells."

Blood rushed to Kenza ear as she sat there with a dumbfounded expression on her face as she took in the information. She got up after Alexia came to the table and basically pushed her out of the chair.

Taking the stage after accepting the award and hugging her auntie. Kenza looked in the crowd scanning the room, she saw her mom and mami, Paige, her Barca teammates, even some of her friends from UConn and Yale. Her eyes paused on the empty seat, her eyes going to her moms who has the same sympathetic looks on their faces. A odd sense of deja vu washed over Kenza before she shook her head of her thoughts.

"Kenza Creoxells is the first ever recipient of the Kopa Femenin Award earning it for her work with Barcelona Femení." The announcer said making people cheer louder, as the picture of Kenza doing her signature celebration is blown up on the screen.

"Wow, I have nothing to say but thank you. Thank you to my Mama who let me move in with Auntie Alexia because she saw that this was truly my dream. Thank you to my Mami who literally never let me quit no matter how much I wanted to. Thank you to everyone at Barcelona for giving me a chance and my teammates for helping raise me. Thank you for my team and Yale, my friends as UConn and Paige for always being there. You all have truly become my family and I can't ask for any more than that, thank you," Kenza sniffled before she walked off the stage and more applause thundered throughout the building.

Kenza sat outside of her own party, playing with the Barcelona flag wrapped around her. She had escaped the party after winning the Kopa Award, feeling particularly overwhelmed. Her initial plan on sneaking out with Paige was squashed when she saw Mapi talking Paige's ear off.

"My Enzy! Look at ya! Kop' Winner!" A familiar deep voice thundered.

Kenza looked up from her place on the steps, "Dad?" She quickly got up and took a step toward him, "What are you doing here?"

"My daughter won the... the award! Why wouldn't I be here?" Taking the step forward was a big regret on Kenza's part as the smell of alcohol became prominent. Kenza took in his appearance: Red eyes, stumbling around, she knew he wasn’t sober.

Kenza smiled wryly, "You forgot. You forgot like everything else. Why? Why can't you be a good dad for day, just a day." Kenza sobbed as she sat back down on the steps.

Akoni seemed to sober up at the sound of his daughter's sobs. He sat next to her and sighed, "I have a lot of regrets in life, but having you isn't one of them. Not being there for you, is. I'm a deadbeat, drunk with too much money. I was never worthy enough to be your father, I knew that as soon as I held you. After your mom and I broke up, I spiraled. Don't be like me Enzy, be better."

Kenza sobs only grew louder as she rested her head against Akoni's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Enzy."

[thecosmicangel]

At the end of the day the only validation is you. Stop looking for validation from others because everyone has their own perspective, and journey in life. If you want someone back, stop listening to people telling you “why would you want them back, or you’re better off without them” they don’t see or understand your heart & vision. Yes, you could have anyone you want, but you are choosing SP for a reason. You are able to create the perfect relationship with anyone you want. If you want something you don’t need a long explanation for wanting it, you simply want it because you do and that’s good enough. You don’t have to work hard to become a millionaire. Stop letting other people’s limiting beliefs become your limiting beliefs or get in the way of getting what you want. Just because someone says something is impossible doesn’t mean it’s true for you. Let people stay in limiting mindsets & you be free in the mentality that everything is possible. Whatever you want is possible because you want it. Stop being part of the loop 🔁 where so many people are stuck & programmed to stay in. Start living outside the box, living your dream life. No dream is too impossible. This is also what it means to live in your authentic self, you stop listening to others and start to listen to your inner self. You are the only writer of your story, don’t let others change your narrative to something you don’t want. As we are in the “Age of information / knowledge” there is so much information we have access to but you get to decide what is true for you and what isn’t. I say this because in the spiritual & religious communities people have the idea that “things are meant to happen if they are” or “it will happen if it’s gods will” or saying things like “people have free will and it’s bad to mess with their free will” or you have to wait on divine timing, or astrological timing isn’t right or it will manifest in a bad way it won’t last, blah blah blah. I don’t mean to be rude or put anyone down because I once believed in all this until I realized I am the god of my reality and if I believe it, it made it real. When you call your power back you realize things only have power because you gave it the power to become so, you realize you give meaning to everything so stop putting so much limitations on yourself and break away from all that doesn’t serve you or simply decide what meaning you want to give it. I’m not saying you have to stop learning about astrology or break away from religion/ spirituality do whatever you want & believe what you want just be aware of any limiting beliefs and stick to what helps you. YOU have the power to make things be true, you give it the meaning you want.

This image shows how many things can be true at once, it all comes down to individual perspective. You see things as you are, whatever you believe & see as true will be true for you.

You don’t have to resonate or agree with what I say because from my perspective what I say is true based on my experience. We as humans are constantly changing our perspective, what I say now past versions of me may of not agreed or believed what I say. All you gotta do is believe in yourself & be your own validation.

xoxo, the cosmic angel ⭐️🪽

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

Cover Me

Request: I got a request in my inbox for this fic. A Channie bias had sent an anon request wishing for a reaction. They had shared that they had lost their parents and they are an only child with no one, so there were times they felt alone and wake up feeling empty. I was editing the fic and accidentally posted it- and then deleted it because it wasn't finished thus leading me to lose that inbox request- so I'm really really hoping that they can see this either on my page or due to a repost or something. Because I just want to say that I know in times of suffering words rarely do anything to actually help. But I do know that words can create scenarios that provide an escape- even if just for a few minutes. So I'm hoping this can create that pocket of peace for you; and hopefully bring you a smile. Because I'm more than sure wherever your parents are now that they're smiling; and would love to see you smile back. <3

Chan x Gn!Reader Angst (Established Relationship)TW: Mentions of Death and Loss

I sort of wanted to make this kind of based off the song "Cover Me" by SKZ. When Rockstar was first released, I remember pressing play right at 12am when it dropped- and when Cover Me played I began to cry. Even without understanding the lyrics at the time I could hear the vulnerability of a searing kind of sadness. And it immediately became one of my all time favorite songs- if not tied for favorite along with Hellevator. Pain is a universal thing- but each and every person's experience with pain and grief is a unique experience. And even just through the sound of the song I think it was touched on beautifully. Because in those times everyone looks to be covered...So if you're the kind of person who like to relate stories to music- then I'd recommend giving Cover Me a listen.

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The night enveloped your apartment, thick with silence and shadows.

It was a quiet yet constant reminder of what you’d lost - your parents, their laughter, the warmth of their hugs. Their words. Lectures. Things you may have taken for granted in the moment but wished more than anything now you could be a part of once more.

Being an only child, that ache felt sharper, more isolating than it would be for most. Especially on mornings like this, the weight of loneliness is suffocating. And it didn't help that you had barely been able to get to sleep the night prior.

You had woken up today with a heaviness in your chest, a reminder of the emptiness that followed you like a relentless shadow. In a desperate attempt to escape it, you turned on your phone, scrolling through your playlists until you landed on Stray Kids.

Chan’s voice, the soothing anchor in your sea of sorrow, filled the room as you pulled up an old livestream.

As you listened to him laugh, joke, and share stories with fans, a bittersweet smile tugged at your lips.

In real life or online, he had a way of making everything feel lighter but even his comforting presence couldn’t always chase away the ghosts of your past.

More often than not they just provided a temporary escape.

In the midst of his laughter, you felt tears well up and blur your vision.

You missed your parents terribly today. You wanted them to be here, to share in the little things in life, your favorite moments - the way the moon shone outside, how it painted everything in silver, the memories that had been exchanged in moments that you had never known were going to be your last.

You felt the loss like a physical weight, the ache in your heart mirroring the brightness of the moon outside.

You choked on a sob, wishing someone would hear your cry, wishing for that warmth, that comfort that embrace that acted as a panacea to the worries of life.

And just as you thought you’d crumble under the loneliness, you felt a familiar warmth envelop you. You hadn't even heard him come home. but now Chan was there, arms wrapped around you from behind, his chin rested softly on your shoulder.

"I heard you crying," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, thick with concern. "What’s wrong, love?"

The warmth of his presence grounded you, and you leaned back into him, seeking the comfort of his body against yours. "I miss them so much today," you confessed, the words spilling out in a rush. "It hurts."

He tightened his hold, his fingers tangling gently in your hair. "Thats only normal." he said, his voice filled with empathy. "I’m right here, love. Know that I'm here."

You turned to face him, the moonlight illuminating his features, making him look ethereal. His eyes were soft yet filled with understanding, and it felt like he could see right into your heart.

"I don’t know how to cope with this sometimes," you admitted, your voice trembling. "Some days are harder than others. And I don't know why some days I don't think about it at all. Why can't all days be like those days?"

He brushed a thumb across your cheek, catching a stray tear. "You’re allowed to grieve. And it's not a linear thing. You'll have those ups and downs. Just know that whenever the pain feels too much, I’ll be here to help you carry it. I'll always be willing to help you carry it."

As you leaned into him, the tears continued to fall, but this time, they felt lighter. The vulnerability in the air was palpable, but so was the warmth of Chan’s love. His presence was a cure, easing the sharpness of your sorrow.

You settled into the rhythm of his heartbeat, the soft rise and fall of his chest soothing your racing thoughts. "You make me feel less alone."

Chan nodded, understanding the depth of your feelings albeit a few simple words. "I’ll always be that someone for you. You’re never alone, even in your darkest moments." His voice was steady, a reassuring anchor amidst the storm.

Then he kissed your forehead softly, wrapping you in a cocoon of warmth and safety. You felt the tension begin to ease, his soothing presence wrapping around you like a protective blanket.

"Let’s watch the stars together," he suggested, pulling you up gently; then leading you toward the backyard.

You stepped outside, the cool night air brushing against your skin. You settled into the grass, Chan sitting beside you as you gazed up at the stars. "Look at how beautiful they are," he said, pointing out constellations. "I'd like to think that maybe your parents were allowed to hang some up for you as a lasting gift, hmm?"

You took a shaky breath and spoke. "I think they would have gifted me moonbeams..." You said quietly, looking at the full moon that lookes so fat and bright- as if you could reach out and grab it. "They always knew I loved the moon."

You laid back and Chan laid back with you in the grass, the blades tickling the back of your neck as a soft breeze blew past.

In the quietness, you heard Chan start to hum softly- and then sing.

"Dari ireoke nunbusineun bamen..." (On nights when the moon shines this bright)

You closed your eyes and let Chan's voice travel through your ears.

"Why do I feel so lonely in this night? Saebyeokbarameun mabeobilkka?" (Is the dawn breeze magical?)

In that moment, surrounded by the stars and moon wrapped in Chan’s voice you let your tears fall silently.

It hurt. With every beat of your heart you felt that strain.

"Yeah, I tried to hide away from all the sorrow and pain. But little did I know that I was going insane. The sun will always be there waiting after the rain."

And this moment only made you realize ever so much that the pain of loss would never fully fade.

"I can't take it anymore, what should I do?."

Your tears were hot as Chan intertwined his fingers through yours. Squeezing them lightly.

"Oneureun moreun cheok nungama jwo..." (Today, pretend not to notice and close your eyes)

You opened your eyes looking up at the silver moon. Wondering if they could see you, hear you. Acknowledge that pain you were harboring.

"So cover me now."

Please. Please.

"Cover me now."

You swallowed continued to stare at the moon and let your eyes trace over the stars as well. Leading you to the person beside you.

"Dari ireoke nunbusineun bamen.Nuga jeo bicheul garyeojugil oechyeo." (On nights when the moon shines this bright. I cry out, hoping for someone to cover that light)

His eyes were closed, a few tears of his own falling; letting you know that he felt for you too. That someone was out there, willing to help with that burden of pain.

A burden you had long since gotten tired of carrying.

"Bami eoneusae kkeuchi naneun najen Ttaseuhan bicheul naerijjoeneun bicheul."  (During the day, when night finally ends. I accept the warm light shining down)

A burden you no longer had to carry alone.

Since you had finally found your cover.

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@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg

@leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon

@night-storm7 @missmajdastark @axel-skz

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[the-s1lly-corner]

When you're bed rotting (crp edition)

Aka this is admin vaguely venting while writing some self indulgent stuff but tbh gang imma be so real this isn't really self indulgent for *me*

Characters: eyeless jack, slenderman, ticci toby, jeff the killer

Notes: reader is gn, short post, jeff doesn't fully getting it so he's a bit of an ass unintentionally, written based off admins stuff so obligatory "my experiences do not reflect everyone's"

CWs: vague mentions of mental health struggles

SLENDERMAN

it doesnt take him long at all to notice that theres something wrong with you- better it be seasonal or somethings changed in your life thats prompted to you stay in bed all day... for many days on end... hes not very judgmental, whatever it may be hes going to perch himself at the edge of your bed and watch over you

even if he cant immediately break the rot, he gives you an outlet- someone to talk through it. you know you can tell him everything, and something about that is comforting enough to coax you closer to him

too out of it to really get out of bed and get something you need? he'll be trailing at your heels to silently encourage you to go make a meal- and hes ready to step in if you need some extra hands... or tentacles. if it becomes too much he carries you around... baby steps

TICCI TOBY

he gets it, he occasionally bed rots every now and then. so he feels for you when he sees you repeating his old habits- laying in bed nearly unresponsive as you either stare blankly at the wall or scroll on your phone mindlessly

brings you items he knows bring you comfort- blankets or plushies, snacks to make sure you at least have something inside you, water- things like that to give you *something* to cling onto

refuses to leave your side, tries to convince you to come out with him outside... not even for a full fledge walk- just sitting out on the porch is enough... come on, lets get some fresh air...! tells you about his day to try to brighten yours

JEFF THE KILLER

doesnt get it at all- he thinks you just need to rest for a day or two. he does become mildly annoyed when your slacking on your share of the chores starts to show and hes just about ready to go off on you before he sees just how... out of it you look, how exhausted you seem as you basically sink and fuse into the bed

he may be bold enough to physically take you out of the bed himself if you refuse to get up, whether or not thats the right thing is.... debatable but hes not the most educated or sensitive when it comes to a lot of struggles--- where you lay and stare at the ceiling, jeff gets angry and lashes out. you have different responses to things

stab? you want to stab something? want to stab something now? you can borrow his knife and go shank someone if that would make you feel better- he... has a long way to go...

EYELESS JACK

actually knows whats happening with you, as well as having experience with it himself on a personal level. hes definitely spent days laying and doing nothing- and sometimes those days turned into weeks... he gets it, but hes not going to sit quietly and let you decompose into the mattress

blunt and forward, but not totally unkind when he asks you if theres anything going on with you- typically starts asking after the first day or two of you laying in bed. his tone is always flat, but hes trying his best to sound outwardly supportive

coaxes you out of bed to do small activities to try to kickstart you back into the swing of things. tiny things. make yourself a simple snack... if you cant shower, hes got you some wipes and dry shampoo- that can work until you can bring yourself to bathe

[gigabyte-flare]

He Comes Alive (Part 1)

Summary: Dropping out of college and moving back in with your parents is embarrassing when you live in a small town, where news and rumors spread fast. You have a chance encounter with a man that just moved into town, not realizing your life is about to get a lot more exciting.

Word Count: 3k

Pairing: vampire/plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: Biting, blood, gore, murder, unprotected p in v, masterbation, oral (m and f receiving), stalking, pet names, implied kidnapping, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT [More warnings may be added in future entries]

A/N: It was only a matter of time before I did a vampire au. I wanted to do a twist on Las Plagas where it turns people into vampires, also I was very much inspired by @nexysworld's vampire!Leon bot (which is excellent huehuehue). This fic takes place in the late 1980s, so canon stuff is completely thrown out the window so if that's not your thing, kindly move along.

Oakvale is a fictional town nestled in the heart of New Hampshire's White Mountain region and based heavily on my own experience growing up in small town New England. Shout out to my fellow New Englanders! 🥰

A quick reminder that I no longer do tag lists

Title inspired by Jason performed by The Midnight

Line break Divider by cafekitsune

You stand at the end of the walkway leading up to your childhood home in Oakvale, New Hampshire, holding your luggage in one hand. You take deep breaths, preparing yourself for a nasty welcome home. You can still hear your father’s rage filled voice from your phone call a few days prior. You had decided to drop out of college. You were failing your classes and you couldn’t cope with hectic college life. Your mom, on the other hand, while disappointed in your decision, understood that this was your choice and that you were an adult now.

You had gone to college at the University of Illinois majoring in accounting under your father’s strict guidance in hopes that you would graduate and then run the finances for his car repair business. He was only going to help pay for college if you majored in accounting, so you had agreed begrudgingly. You were terrible at math and hated working with numbers, it was no wonder you were struggling.

You collect your thoughts, exhale loudly and approach the front door, wheeling your luggage behind you. You stand before the front door, giving it a few light knocks. You hear movement inside the house and the sound of your mother yelling down that she is coming. The front door opens and you’re greeted with your mother’s smiling face; a very welcome sight, beating the alternative.

“Sweetheart!” your mom exclaims, wrapping her arms around you, “how was your flight?”

“It was alright, I was able to sleep most of the way,” you reply as your mom leads you into the house. 

You glance into the living room as you walk into the house, seeing your father watching the weather channel. He won’t even look at you or acknowledge you. Your mom sees the distress in your face. She stands in front of you, grasping your arms gently.

“Pay him no mind, sweetie, I’ve given him strict instructions to not talk about college with you. Give him time, he’ll get over it,” your mom lets go, continuing to lead you to your bedroom, “he needs to understand that you are an adult and can make your own decisions. He knew going into this that you hated math, it’s his own fault for pushing you so hard.”

You're comforted by your mother’s words as the two of you reach the precipice of your bedroom. She opens the door for you and you are met with your childhood bedroom, exactly how you left it before you went off to college three years ago: floral bedding, light pastel pink walls, matching white furniture and boy band posters and polaroids of you and your friends attached to the walls. You make a mental note to redecorate, but that can wait until later. 

Later that evening, you join your parents in the dining room for dinner. Your Mother made your favorite: pasta in tomato sauce with kielbasa, squash and zucchini. Despite the fact it was late September, the family garden was still providing fresh vegetables. At first, you all eat in silence; you don’t dare make eye contact with your father. He seems to be too absorbed in the newspaper anyway. After agonizing minutes of silence, your father finally speaks to you for the first time since you came home.

“I got you a job at the gas station, you start Monday.”

You stop mid-bite, looking at your father dumbfounded before glancing at your mother, who smiles at you. He’s referring to the one gas station in town, just on the edge of town leading to the highway.

“Th-Thank you, Dad… that’s very kind of you…” you say before continuing your meal.

All the while, you hear the TV that’s still on in the living room, playing the news, “Fish and Game is still searching for 25 year old Alicia Walker, who hasn’t been seen since Wednesday when she told her family she’d be hiking up Mt. Lafayette--”

“Oh dear… they still haven’t found that hiker, Mick?” your mom says, looking over at your father.

Your father shakes his head in dismay, “nope. Seems to be happening a lot lately, that’s the third hiker in about a month, too.”

“Hikers are going missing?” you chime in before chewing your food.

“Unfortunately. That’s what happens when you go hiking in the Notch unprepared. Promise me you’ll never hike alone,” your father says to you in a stern tone.

“Of course, Dad, I’m not stupid.”

“Good,” your father replies with a nod before he continues eating, “pasta’s delicious Sandi.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

The weekend goes by in a flash and, before you know it, it’s Monday; your first day at your new job at the gas station. It’s an easy enough job, just working the cash register as people come in to buy things and get gasoline for their vehicles. What your father had failed to tell you, however, is that he got you the late shift: 6:00pm to midnight. The day shift person, an older woman named Peggy, who also trained you briefly, let you know that police officers often stop in at night to check on things, giving you some comfort. Oakvale wasn’t a bad town by any means, but this gas station was also close to the highway; anyone could come in.

That is made apparent when the chief of police himself stops in around 10:00pm, Chief Robert Dion, but most people in town just call him Chief Bob or just Chief. He was a burly man with a large mustache that he used wax to curl the ends; he almost looks like a cartoon character. His hair and beard are starting to show his old age. You recall he’s a nice man; you smile at him from behind the cash register as he walks through the door.

“Chief Bob! Long time no see!”

“Well, hey there little lady! Mick told me you were working at the gas station now! When did you get back into town?”

“Friday afternoon. I’m… not cut out for college, I guess…” you reply, your tone becoming morose.

“Hey! Don’t get down! Take some time to yourself and try again.” he says, leaning up against the counter on one arm. 

“Thanks Chief. What’s the latest gossip in town? I’m sure I’ve missed a ton in three years.”

“Mostly about those missing hikers. I’m sure you heard--”

The sudden roar of a motorcycle cuts him off as a Harley Davidson motorcycle pulls up to one of the pumps outside before cutting the power. You watch from your peripheral vision as the driver gets off the bike. You draw your attention back to Chief Bob.

“As I was saying… I’m sure you heard about the missing hikers.”

You nod, “yeah, it was on the news when we were having dinner on Friday.”

You hear the electronic chime on the door go off as someone walks in and that’s when your eyes settle on what is quite possibly the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen in your life. Tall, with short blonde hair and blue eyes, wearing a leather jacket with worn denim jeans and work boots. Chief Bob moves out of the way to let the man come to the register. Your heart can’t help but race in your chest as your eyes are locked on the man.

“Can I get $5 on pump uh…” the man leans to look out the window at the number of the pump he parked at outside, “four?”

“S-Sure, of course! $5 please,” you reply, kicking yourself internally for stuttering. 

The man pulls his wallet out from his back pocket, setting down a five dollar bill. Your eyes drift to his hands to check to see if he’s wearing a wedding band on his left ring finger; you don’t see one. Shifting your gaze back up, you see that his eyes are suddenly locked on yours; he gives you a playful smirk and winks before he turns to walk out.

“You’re out awfully late,” Chief Bob says to the man as he walks by.

“Had some errands to run. Take care Chief,” the man replies before walking back outside to fill his bike.

Your eyes are once again locked on the man before Chief Bob’s voice draws your attention back, “I think that’s the guy that bought ol’ Archie Mason’s place about a month ago.”

Archie Mason. Now that’s a name you haven’t heard in a while. You knew him as Mr. Mason, a curmudgeon of a man that lived on a dead end road in the woods by himself in town. As kids, you’d dare each other to go to his house, knock on his front door and see who could run the fastest before getting caught. Mr. Mason hated children.

“When did Mr. Mason die?” you ask as you get the $5 bill the handsome man gave you into the cash register. 

“I think… two years ago? The house finally went through probate and was sold. That guy moved in and has been fixing it up ever since. Usually see him at Rocky’s.”

Rocky’s is a hardware store in Oakvale, a popular spot for all the younger and middle aged men in town, right up there with Moe’s bar, which was conveniently right next door to the hardware store. You hear Chief Bob talking to you still, but you can’t focus. Instead, your attention is on the mystery man pumping gas into his motorcycle, your heart all aflutter.

You wake up around 9:30am Wednesday morning, shuffling over to your closet to put on some clothes. Afterwards, you go into the bathroom to fix your hair, brush your teeth and put your makeup on. All the while, you can hear your father hard at work in the garage on someone’s car through the various open windows in the house. You decide to pay him a visit after you get yourself put together.

You go outside, walking over to the adjacent auto repair shop, stopping to glance up at the sign hanging off the building: Mick’s Auto Repair. Every business in town had this unspoken rule that their business had to have their name in it; Mick’s Auto Repair, Rocky’s Hardware, Moe’s Bar and Grille, Sally’s Sew Shop, just to name a few. You continue walking, walking into the shop through the open garage door.

“Hey Dad!” you call out, looking around before seeing your father’s legs sticking out from under the car he’s working on. 

You watch as he rolls out from under the car, his face, clothing and hands covered in oil stains. He looks up at you, his eyes squinting from the sun leaking into the garage. 

“Hey, what’s up?” he asks.

“You didn’t tell me Mr. Mason had died.”

“Oh… yeah… died in his sleep. The old fart was 92. Didn’t really come as a shock to anyone.” your dad replies, rolling himself back under the car.

“Do you know anything about the guy that bought the house?” you continue to pry, crossing your arms as you look down, addressing your father’s feet. 

“Yeah, his name’s Leon, I think. Moved in from D.C. if I heard right. What about him?”

“Oh… nothing… he came into the gas station the other night…” you reply, your voice trailing out as the butterflies stir up in your gut thinking about him.

Leon… that suits him, you think to yourself. 

“Now don’t you go getting any ideas, the last thing you need right now, young lady, is to be distracted by some boy. He’s too old for you anyway-- oh fuck!” your father curses as you hear something snap from under the car, rolling back out with a broken wrench in his hand.

“That’s not good,” you comment, watching as your father shoots you a glare. 

He lets out a frustrated sigh, “can you run over to Rocky’s real quick and get me another one? I’d go but I’m caked in oil. Don’t need Rock yelling at me for tracking oil into his store again. I’ll pay you back.”

“Sure, no problem! I’ll be right back!” you say, heading back into the house to grab your purse from your bedroom. 

You grab the broken wrench from your father so you make sure to get the right one and head out. The hardware store is about a 15 minute walk from your house, so you decide to just walk, enjoying the crisp hair and sun of early fall. Coming upon Rocky’s Hardware, you step inside, a bell hanging off the door ringing as you walk in. 

“Well, well, well! If it isn’t Mick’s little girl! How’s it going, sweetheart?” Rocky says from the cash register. 

Rocky is another older man, medium build with a head full of gray hair and a big, bushy gray mustache.

“Hey Rocky!” you reply as you pull your father’s broken wrench from your purse, “Dad broke another wrench, sent me to get another one for him.”

“Jesus… they don’t make them like they used to, do they? Aisle 6 dear, on the left.” Rocky says, gesturing into the store.

“Thanks Rock,” you say before proceeding to the aisle in question; however, when you turn to walk down the aisle, you stop dead in your tracks.

Leon, the man from the gas station the other night, is standing in the aisle looking at hardware, which is on the opposite side of the tools. You stand there, staring at him like an idiot, your heart pounding in your throat. As if sensing your presence, the man turns to you, giving you that same smirk from the other night.

“You’re that cute girl from the gas station,” he says; it wasn’t a question, it was a statement.

He remembered you. He also called you cute, making your stomach twist in anxiety. 

“Y-Yeah…” you manage to say before working up the courage to walk into the aisle to look at the tools.

Leon’s eyes stay on you as you approach, watching as you draw your attention to the tools.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a hardware store?” he asks playfully, you can hear him smirking as he moves to stand next to you.

“Oh… my Dad broke his wrench. He asked me to get him another one.” you reply, trying desperately not to let your nerves get the better of you as you show Leon the broken wrench. 

“Oh dear! Let’s see…” Leon starts as he looks up at all the different tools, reaching up to grab one of the wrenches hanging off the display, “this one looks like the same wrench, here you go.”

Leon hands you the new wrench, his fingers lightly caressing yours as he pulls his hand away, a gesture that is not missed by you. You feel your cheeks flush as you tuck the broken wrench back into your purse.

“Thank you mister…?”

“The name’s Leon Kennedy. But please, just call me Leon.” he replies, making eye contact with you, “what’s your name?”

You pause for a moment before you practically stutter your name out. You watch as Leon smiles at you, his eyes taking you in as he looks up and down at you.

“That is a lovely name,” he says, the compliment hitting you straight into your core; you feel your panties become slick.

“Th-Thank you… you have a nice name, too.”

Leon gives you a gentle pat on your shoulder, “I gotta go pay for my stuff. Hopefully we can see more of each other, yeah?”

You stare at him in awe for a moment before nodding, “Yes! I… I’d like that, too…”

He gives you a wink before he turns to walk out of the aisle and up to the cash register, where you hear him make small talk with Rocky. You are frozen in place in a desperate attempt to calm yourself down. You wait until you hear the bell on the door ring before you go up to the register to pay for the new wrench. 

You couldn’t get home fast enough, your entire being a bundle of nerves. Once you get home, you walk through the open garage door to give your father the wrench. You find he’s not in the garage, so you walk back into the house, only to find him standing in front of the TV in the living room, watching the news.

“Dad, I got the wrench--” you begin to say as you cut yourself off, seeing there’s a breaking news report playing on the TV, “what’s wrong?”

Your father turns to you, his look is forlorn, “another hiker went missing, they were last seen Monday.”

That night, after getting home from your shift at the gas station, you toss and turn in bed, unable to get comfortable. You can’t get Leon off your mind. Tossing your comforter off you, you lay on your back, propping your legs up and spread them as your right hand dips under the hem of your underwear, your fingers finding your clit to rub slow circles into it.

As you lose yourself to your own pleasure you moan Leon’s name softly, closing your eyes to picture the way his beautiful blue eyes looked up and down your body earlier today, the way his jeans hugged his slender hips. You could almost smell his leather jacket. Your fingers pick up the pace on your clit, causing your hips to buck into your fingers as you chase your high, biting your lip to stop yourself from moaning loudly. 

You turn your head towards your windows, slowly opening your eyes, only for your breath to be caught in your throat as you spot a pair of glowing red eyes peering into your window. You watch as the eyes suddenly dart away from the window, thumping sounds quickly following. You quickly pull your hand out from your underwear and practically jump out of bed to your window, throwing it open to look out. You look around, seeing nothing in the darkness. Your bedroom is on the second floor, it couldn’t have been a person. People don’t have glowing red eyes.

You take deep breaths, realizing your thoughts are only psyching yourself out. It was just your imagination in the heat of you getting yourself off, you decide, before you shut your window, locking it. Just in case. You walk back over to your bed, collapsing into it, your arousal having been scared out of you, so you quickly drift off to sleep.

Part 2