#Ideally I’d like to be able to know this and be okay with it instead of feeling like I’m living on borrowed time

[ectonurites]

if you were given the reins to cassie sandsmark, what would u do 🎤

MAKE HER A LESBIAN!!!!! !!! !!!!!!!!

okay but to be more specific, i would want to explore like the concept of what being ‘Wonder Girl’ means to her, alongside just what being a GIRL means for her in general. how she has felt stepping into this legacy Donna gave to her where there is like… this amount of pressure to be a specific type of girl, to be a role model, to fit into the ideal of what The Wonder Woman’s sidekick should be… how that does and doesn’t mesh with who Cassie Sandsmark herself is. Exploring the ways she tried to change herself as she grew up to fit the idea of Wonder Girl and like, idk like. i would write a story of early 20’s Cassie trying to reclaim the messy rowdy un-girly teen-girlhood she denied herself once the Geoff Johns era hit. like. i’ve more eloquently elaborated on my Cassie thoughts in this post, but telling a story ABOUT her just letting herself… Exist like that. Letting herself say ‘fuck that’ to the ‘princess girl’ mask she put on. I’d need to be more sober to put into specific words what that story’s plot would be about, but like, I’m imagining her in a situation where she’s not surrounded by anyone who knows her already so she’s not dealing with these preconceived notions of who she is (maybe she's in space! maybe she's just undercover somewhere on earth! who knows!), and she just lets herself be more like that "'all elbows and knees' fourteen year old girl" (<- john byrne quote description of how he created her) she used to be and realizes that fuck she misses being able to just exist like that instead of… putting herself through a million filters and masks to be more presentable. and also she would kiss a girl during all of this (something something realizing that when she saw pretty girls like Cissie and it would make her feel conflicted and angry it wasn't jealousy about wanting to be like them, it was that 'GET OUT OF MY SCHOOL' crush mentality)

[merrybloomwrites]

I Hear Them Calling (Chapter 9- FINAL CHAPTER)

Story Summary: Alpha Harry Styles and omega Y/N Y/L/N meet under less than ideal circumstances. Overtime their paths will cross and they will be drawn to one another in ways they never expected.

Chapter Summary: Harry and Y/N spend some time apart before reuniting just in time for Y/N's next heat.

Prologue ; Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2 ; Chapter 3 ; Chapter 4 ; Chapter 5 ; Chapter 6 ; Chapter 7 ; Chapter 8

Word count: 3.6K

CW: smut, knotting, p in v sex, heat cycle

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The plans for your time in Palm Springs are greatly altered due to your unexpected heat. Instead of hanging out with Harry’s friends, you’d been stuck inside a bedroom for over a day riding out the waves of your heat. And now that it’s over, you still don’t want to leave the house.

The day after your heat ended and Harry had joined you at the house again, you had constructed a nest. And now you want to stay wrapped in its safe walls with your alpha. It’s common for omegas to withdraw in the days after a heat, needing comfort and reassurances from their alpha. Harry is more than happy to provide, though you feel bad about keeping him locked up in the house with you. Each time you mention this he simply says, “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

He does encourage you to get fresh air, so you take some time to sit outside on the deck, soaking up the sun. It’s just warm enough in southern California that you’re comfortable in shorts and a t-shirt, which does brighten your mood.

But most of the time is still spent inside. The world seems too big at the moment, there are too many people, too many dangers. In your nest there’s nothing but warmth, and safety, and the ever-comforting scent of Harry.

He flies with you back to New Jersey and you're grateful. While you’re feeling better after a couple days of cuddling with Harry, an airport full of strangers would be a bit too much at the moment. He’s able to stay with you for two nights before he needs to leave and start getting everything ready for the next leg of tour. Before he leaves you build another nest in your home and he once again showers you with compliments about how lovely it is. You’re sad when you have to say goodbye, but he’s taken such good care of you that your omega is recovered by the time he’s gone.

You have a visit with your doctor the following week and discuss the heat you’d experienced. Luckily you don’t need to go into detail, just letting her know when it started and how long it lasted.

“That was a bit earlier than I’d estimated,” she says. “I was expecting the end of February. Is there anything that may have triggered it?”

You blush a deep red and reply, “I had just been knotted for the first time that morning.”

She gives you a reassuring smile and says, “That could definitely be the reason. I do have to ask, was this something you wanted or did the alpha force himself in any way?”

“Oh nothing like that! It was with my alpha, completely consensual. I was the one to bring it up.”

“Okay good. Well in that case, everything looks great. You should expect your next heat to be maybe mid-April or early May. This will be a full heat, so it’ll be longer and more intense than the other.”

“Right,” you reply, a tremor of nerves in your voice.

“There are some things we can do and prepare to make it easier if you’ll be solo during it.”

She hands you a pamphlet with some helpful tips and you sit quietly for a moment. Finally, you say, “I’m thinking of asking my alpha to spend it with me.”

“That sounds like a good plan, as long as that’s what you want. Make sure to talk about everything ahead of time alright? What you do and don’t want, any rules he needs to follow and ways he can take care of you.” She hands another pamphlet and says, “Here are some tips on how to prepare for a heat with an alpha. Yes, we have a pamphlet for everything,” she finishes and you both laugh.

“You mentioned he travels a lot, is he nearby now?” The doctor inquires.

“No, he's traveling at the moment. I probably won’t see him until April.”

“Okay, you may experience some touch deprivation symptoms again since you’re separated after a heat. Hopefully not too bad but just keep doing what you did back in the fall.”

“Got it,” you reply.

You talk a little while longer and finally you’re on your way home. You’re not thrilled that the depri might come back. The chills, exhaustion and itchiness are never fun. But hopefully this will be the last long separation you have from Harry.

There’s a lot you need to talk to Harry about, like spending your heat with you, and what your ideas for the future are, but you want to do that in person so it will have to wait until April.

It’s another long few weeks without Harry. The days are cold, and at first you’re not sure if it’s the touch deprivation that has you chilled to the bone, or just the wind constantly whistling outside.

But when it gets harder and harder to get out of bed, and headaches become a near daily thing, you have to admit the depri is back.

Harry checks in with a phone call or FaceTime at least once a day, and sends texts whenever he has a free moment. You know that he’s always there for you, but your omega doesn’t understand this. The lack of touch, lack of pheromones, just overall physical lack of an alpha after having him so close sends your inner omega back into a depression.

One week before you’re set to reunite with Harry he calls you just like normal. But it’s been an awful day for you. A couple of your coworkers had recently quit, leaving you with an insane workload for the following days. The milk in your fridge had expired, leaving you without your normal tea and cereal for breakfast. It was finally a nice day out but the chill in your body remains. And your headache is worse than ever, and has you practically seeing double.

All in all, you're at your breaking point. You’ve been hiding how bad it is from Harry, not wanting to add more stress to him while he’s in the middle of a run of concerts. But just because you don’t say anything doesn’t mean Harry hasn’t picked up on how you’re feeling.

A couple minutes into the call Harry says, “Is everything alright, love?”

“Yea, everything is fine,” you lie.

“Darling, please tell me what’s happening. My alpha’s been on edge for days and I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong.”

Suddenly there’s a feeling of guilt eating at you. It takes only a second to realize it’s your omega cowering at the fact you’ve upset your alpha. You have no choice but to explain the situation, so you tell him how you’ve been feeling.

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry you’re feeling badly again. I wish I was there to make it better,” he says once you’ve filled him in.

His kind words and gentle voice have tears springing to your eyes, but you quickly blink them back. Crying would only make the headache worse.

“It’s only a few more days, I’ll be okay,” you reply, annoyed at the shakiness in your voice.

The two of you talk a little longer and you’re truthfully feeling a bit better by the time you hang up. You spend the rest of the day working from your nest, the extra comfort helping as well.

That’s how you spend the next excruciatingly long week. When Harry finally knocks on your apartment door you open it immediately and slump into his outstretched arms. He somehow gets his bags inside, closes the door, and lifts you, carrying you to the couch.

He sits down and adjusts you so that you’re straddling his lap. Instincts lead you and you dive into his neck scenting him frantically.

“That’s it baby, I’m here. Take what you need, omega.” His words of encouragement help you settle, and soon you’re gently nosing along his scent gland. Once you have your fill you pull away, and Harry matches your shy smile with one of his own. He leans in next, kissing and licking along your neck to scent you in return.

Finally, you’re both satisfied and Harry moves to kiss your lips. You sigh against him, your entire being relieved now that you’re finally reunited with your alpha.

You spend a couple of quiet days together, Harry wanting to take it easy after weeks of touring on the other side of the world, and you recovering from the last of the touch deprivation symptoms. When you’re finally both feeling up to it, Harry makes reservations at a nice restaurant, wanting to take you on a date.

When you walk out of the bathroom, dressed and ready to go, Harry is standing there, looking absolutely stunning. You’re completely speechless looking at him, and he seems to be feeling the same as well.

He regains his senses first, walking closer to run his hands along your arms as he takes you in. “Darling, you look amazing,” he finally says.

You blush and reply, “Thank you. You look very dashing.” He smiles shyly at the compliment and then lifts your hand to press a kiss to the back of it.

“Shall we be on our way?” he asks.

“We shall,” you reply, feeling happier and lighter than ever.

The date confirms what you’ve been thinking for a while now. Harry is a perfect gentleman throughout, and the comfort and familiarity you feel in his presence is unmatched. Conversation never halts, and you’re as happy to listen to him as he is to listen to you. It’s a lovely mixture of lighthearted topics, with a couple more serious discussions thrown in.

After the last bite of dessert is finished, and the bill is settled, the two of you make your way out of the restaurant. You walk back home, enjoying the mild spring weather, Harry’s arm wrapped gently around your waist.

There’s a shift once you get back to your apartment. Both of your scents deepen, lust swirling in the air.

“Alpha,” you breathe out, turning so your lips ghost against his.

“Yes, omega?” he replies.

“Take me to bed?”

“Anything for you,” he says before immediately making good on his word.

The next morning you wake up once more cuddled next to Harry. He’s still sleeping, and you take the time to reflect on the night before. You’d done a lot of talking, and it seems that many of his desires and life plans line up with yours. That plus the undeniable connection between his alpha and your omega confirms that the two of you are right for each other.

You know you need to ask him about your upcoming heat, knowing that it could start within the next couple of weeks. You’re mulling over how to bring it up when he wakes up beside you.

“Good morning,” he says, his voice gruff from sleep.

“Good morning,” you reply. “How’d you sleep?”

“Wonderfully. Always do with you in my arms,” he answers.

He shifts so that he’s level with you and can press a kiss to your lips. You get lost in the moment, but there’s still so many thoughts swirling through your brain. Harry notices your hesitance and asks, “What’s wrong? What’s going on in your head, hm?”

You could lie and say it’s nothing, but he’s already opened the door for the conversation. After a moment to collect your thought, you state, “My heat should be starting soon. Maybe a week or so.”

He nods to show he’s listening, and you continue, “I was wondering if you’d want to spend it with me?”

“Baby I would love to. Is that what you want? Are you sure you’re ready?”

“I’m ready. And I would really prefer not to be alone. I want you with me.”

“Then I will be. I’ll be there the whole time. I’ll always take care of you, love.”

“Thank you,” you answer before bringing your lips to his again. It’s a sweet kiss, full of emotion and gratitude for this gentle and caring man.

Over the next week and a half, you and Harry plan for your first ever real heat. You look at the pamphlets, making sure to answer all the questions asked there, and filling in Harry on your preferences. You make a trip to the grocery store to stock up on foods you’ll both need. You blush when you see that Harry has also stocked up on condoms. While you both have said you want pups at some point, now is not the time.

One morning you wake up feeling extra clingy. You barely let Harry out of your sight. By early afternoon you’re turning on the air conditioning, claiming an early spring heat wave must’ve hit. Throughout dinner you’re itching with a desire to nest, which you begin to do the second you finish eating. It’s the first time you’re okay being away from Harry since you want to do this job on your own.

When it’s complete you find Harry as he’s finishing the dinner dishes. Without a word you take his hand, leading him to the bedroom.

“Baby, it’s lovely,” he says when he sees the nest on the bed. “It’ll be perfect for your heat.”

“Do you think it’s coming soon?” you ask, looking for confirmation of what you’ve been questioning all afternoon.

“I do. Probably by morning, if your scent is anything to go by. How do you feel about it this time?”

“Still scared. But not as much as before. I don’t like that it’s going to be more intense and longer. But, you’re here so I think I’ll be okay.” You pause before correcting, “I know that I’ll be okay.”

“Yes, you will,” he says, standing behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. “I promise to keep you safe, to take care of you however you need.”

“Can we take a shower?” you suddenly ask. Harry’s a little surprised by the ask, since you’d both already showered that day, but he agrees. He assumes that you want to make sure you’re both clean before entering the nest. It’s going to get dirty during your heat, but it’s important to start with a perfect nest to provide comfort.

After you’ve both washed you pull on boxers and an oversized t-shirt, the loose material the only thing that won’t irritate your sensitive skin. You climb into your nest, holding your hand to Harry in a silent invitation.

“Will you scent me?” you ask once he’s settled next to you.

“Of course, baby,” he replies before leaning in to fulfill your request. You fall asleep, wrapped in Harry’s arms and his delicious scent.

You don’t know what time you wake up, only that there’s no way you can fall back asleep even though it’s definitely still dark out. You’re burning hot, and there’s a feeling inside that you can’t describe. A desperate hunger, somehow mixing with a distinct emptiness. There’s a whining sound and it takes a moment for your fuzzy brain to realize it came from you.

The sound wakes Harry up, and he quickly springs into action.

“Hey baby, tell me what you need,” he says.

“Alpha. I need you alpha. Need your knot,” you reply. The little part of you that’s not fully under yet winces at how needy you sound, but soon Harry’s hands are on you and your mind goes quiet.

All you’re aware of is the feeling off his skin on yours. “Off, off,” you say repeatedly until Harry has removed your clothes as well as his.

“Please, alpha, I need you. Empty, so empty.”

“I’m here, omega. I’ve got you.”

You lay on your back, pulling your legs up towards your chest. It’s an exposed and vulnerable position, but one your inner omega knows will get you what you want. It works like a charm, and Harry wastes no time. His fingers reach you first and he growls at how much slick he finds.

Content with how wet and open you are, and moved by how intense your whimpers and begs are growing, he pulls on a condom and quickly lines up with your entrance. You sob in relief when he pushes inside, your hands moving to his back to hold him as close as possible.

As much as Harry normally goes slow with you, he knows that’s not what will help you. Maybe after a first knot he’ll be able to take his time, but right now he sets a quick pace in order to give you what you need.

Your voice reaches a higher pitch, alerting Harry to your impending orgasm. He moves a hand to your center, rubbing your clit to push you over the edge. The feeling of your walls contracting is enough to have Harry coming as well, emptying into the condom as his knot expends inside of you.

You both catch your breath and Harry smooths your hair out of your face.

“How was that, omega? Are you alright?” He checks in with you.

“Good, alpha, so good,” you mumble out, a blissed smile on your face.

“Rest, baby. I’ll be here to take care of you.”

With that, you close your eyes, succumbing fully to the haze of heat as your alpha licks at your neck, surrounding you with his scent.

Your heat lasts four full days, and when you wake up on that final morning you don’t know how to feel. Traces of desire still linger, but nowhere near the level it was at before. You’re aware of your need to use the bathroom, and shower, and eat. Your first thought is that you’re relieved that it’s over. Your second thought is that it really was not a bad experience. At all. Having Harry there took something you were dreading and made it into something so special and enjoyable.

The heat haze makes it so you can’t really remember the experience, but you can remember the feelings. And what you felt was pure love and contentment. There’s no hollow loneliness like the last time. Instead, there’s fulfillment, a sense that all is right in your world.

Harry turns, his lips subconsciously finding yours as he begins to wake up. You melt into the kiss, but he must notice a shift from the last couple of days. He pulls back to look into your eyes.

“Hi, baby. You with me?” he asks.

“I’m here.”

“How do you feel? Are you alright?” You can tell he’s worried so you’re quick to reassure him.

“I feel wonderful. You were perfect, alpha.”

You see the relief written on his face before he pulls you in for another kiss.

“As much as I’d love to stay in bed making out with you, I feel gross. And hungry.”

That’s all you have to say before he springs into action. The two of you take a quick shower together just to rinse off before he makes breakfast with all of your favorites.

Both of you are still quite sore, so you decide to soak together in the bath. Once it’s filled Harry helps you in before sliding in place behind you. The hot water feels heavenly, and the bubbles give it a nice relaxing touch.

You’re both quiet for the first few minutes, lost in your own thoughts.

“I should probably call my doctor,” you say, suddenly breaking the silence. “See if I can get an appointment before we leave for tour.” You feel yourself getting excited. In just a couple of weeks you’ll be going with Harry to Europe for all of his shows there.

“That’s a good idea. What are you going to do? Get new prescriptions?”

It’s a good question. Back in the fall when your old medicines stopped working you were devastated. All you could think about was surviving the few months until you could get new ones that will work again.

But now it’s different. You have an alpha. You have Harry. And the answer becomes less clear.

After thinking for a minute, you realize you know exactly what you want and you say, “I don’t think I will. At least not like before. I might get a low dose of suppressants to make sure my heats have a regular schedule. And most suppressants also double as birth control. But I don’t want to completely hide my omega anymore. I did it out of necessity, because those meds were the only thing that kept me healthy without an alpha. But that’s different now. Right?”

“Yes, love. It’s completely different now. You have me. You always will. And if you don’t want to go back on such strong medication then I support your decision. I’ll be here for you, no matter what.”

“Thank you alpha,” you say, and he replies, “Always.”

***

With Harry’s full support, you walk into your doctor’s appointment a week later with a plan. She also supports your decision to do a much lower dose of suppressants. By the time you reach Denmark for the first show, you feel better than ever before.

As you watch Harry on stage you know that you made the right decision. Sure, there are plenty of obstacles to overcome, but you’re confident that you can do anything with Harry by your side.

And when you hear him sing Fine Line live for the first time, you know that everything truly will be alright.

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AN: Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this story! The main story is finished but I'm open to writing some extra oneshots so if you have requests let me know!

Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@theekyliepage@numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry@ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess@houseofdilfs@shaquille-0atmeal-1@kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye@n0vaj3an@snwells@drunk-teens-doing-drugs ; @fdl305@creativelyeva@daphnesutton@selluequestrian@lovingfurypanda @stardream14 @tbsloneely@eversincehs1@boomitsallie1@rose-garden-dreamz@fictionalmensblog@buckybarnessimpp @ottawaoutlander @storyschanging @jerseygirlinca@stylesfever@alwayslovingharry @daphnesutton @harrydeary

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

Glynda: “You’re back. And the beast?”

Jaune: “Monster is slain. Bangarang.” *snaps his fingers so that he ends up pointing distantly at the ground*

Glynda: “You look tired. You should get some rest.”

Jaune: “Can’t. I have to help team CMAD with their serial killer mission."

Glynda: “Why?”

Jaune: “Why do I have to help them or what help do I have to give?”

Glynda: “Well, both at once I suppose.”

Jaune: “The killer came up into my network about a week ago. It’s sort of my responsibility to keep an eye out for people like this.”

Glynda: “Your network?”

Jaune: “My criminal contacts in the city. I have the name and semblance of the killer.”

Glynda: “That’s most useful.”

Jaune: “That’s what I strive for. I wake up everyday and say ‘oh, if only I could be most useful today.’”

Glynda: *narrows her eyes then offers a dismissive half shrug*"Ozpin often wished to be able to tap into those elements for this very reason but couldn’t figure out how to get started. I mean, it’s nice to say you want to build trust and contacts like that and quite another to go out and succeed at it.”

Jaune: “They want you to kill people for them sometimes. And sometimes you have to kill some people just to put the fear in ‘em. Or torture people. Whatever.”

Glynda: “Should you be telling me this?”

Jaune: “I mean, what are you gonna do about it? What is anybody gonna do about it? Besides, I thought it was ‘most useful.’”

Glynda: “Maybe not what you have to give up to make it happen. That’s perhaps why Ozpin never succeeded.”

Jaune: “You have to have a hard stomach. And at any rate I need to be able to see my sisters coming or, god forbid I even say this, my Mother? Could you imagine her rolling up on us?”

Glynda: “I don’t really want to. Would she?” 

Jaune: “She mostly acts through intermediaries when she can. I can… feel her? Her location? All the time. So I’d know if she was moving around at all. Instead she just hangs out on one of the kingdomless continents. Ayan. So she stays far away from any kingdom and acts from the shadows.”

Glynda: “I don’t know how concerning that is. How concerned should I be?”

Jaune: “Somewhere between one and ten. Depending on how much thought you want to give it. Just don’t think about it very much. That’s what I do. And I’m… mostly fine?”

Glynda: *shakes her head at him. Gentle but firm denial* 

Jaune: “Well, I’m as ‘okay’ as could be expected?”

Glynda: “I don’t think so."

Jaune: “Exactly how ‘okay’ am I supposed to be?” 

Glynda: “Well ideally with a one being the worst and a ten being the best you’d be at a ten, Jaune."

Jaune: “I’m like a five. A hard five. That passes muster.”

Glynda: “A hard five which way?” 

Jaune: “Yeah, fair cop. Good point.”

Glynda: “I wasn’t even making a point."

Jaune: “Well you made it anyway."

Glynda: "Go to bed, Jaune. Your serial killer can wait. What? Are you excited to add to your little collection?”

Jaune: “Am I more or less messed up if I say ‘yes?’” 

Glynda: “You’re just a mixed up kid.”

Jaune: “I mean… yeah. I knew that. But am I more or less fucked if I say I want to add her sniper rifle to my collection?”

Glynda: “You know her weapon?”

Jaune: “Answer the question.”

Glynda: “I… I would say that you’re more mixed up than less. Not everyone has a collection of weapons from serial killers they’ve stopped. Not everyone thinks about adding to it. You are more mixed up than not. You’ve got to really be at least a four out of ten. Admit that to me.”

Jaune: “It’s really probably at most a three.”

Glynda: “Go to bed.”

Jaune: “I’ll go to bed. After I send team CMAD my dossier so they're not going in blind. I think she’s too dangerous for them or hee police to take on. If they find her, sure, good enough. But I really don’t think they should fight her.”

Glynda: “You can’t coddle them.”

Jaune: “I’m tryin’ not to but there’s a serial killer on the loose and they have some real power.”

Glynda: “What about you?”  

Jaune: “What about me?”

Glynda: "You’re a serial killer serial killer.” 

Jaune: “What? I’m not a… serial killer.”

Glynda: “Don’t emphasize ‘serial.’ It doesn’t do anyone any favors.”

Jaune: “Mass murderer? Sure. Spree killer? Probably. But I don’t do it for psychological gratification.”

Glynda: “Don’t emphasis ‘psychological!’ You need to find a sweet girl to look after you. Help put you back together. If you even like girls that is. I didn’t mean to imply anything.”

Jaune: “I like girls. I’ve got team RWBY.”

Glynda: “They’re not here. What’s wrong with Miss Gainsborough?”

Jaune: “You mean besides the fact she’s my student? Off limits, remember? Besides, she’s seen a little into how fucked I am and probably shouldn’t want any of that mess.”

Glynda: “What if she does anyway?” 

Jaune: “I think I would know by now? I'd like to believe I would. But I don't really understand girls. Just throw me at a monster or serial killer or something and let me worry about that. Girls are complicated and hard and complicated."

Glynda: "Not really."

Jaune: "Girls like games and hints and teasing around."

Glynda: "Do you think I'd play games?"

Jaune: "I think you're probably an exception and not the rule. You and Weiss both."

Glynda: "Miss Schnee?"

Jaune: "Yeah. I mean, I think so. She doesn't like games or hints or playing around with her feelings either. I think that's why she barely tolerated me when we went to school here."

Glynda: "You were attracted to her? In your time as a student?"

Jaune: "Still am. That hasn't really changed. She was my first real crush. I had fake memories of crushes before that but I really woke up for the first time at Beacon after I was set loose. And then I met Weiss. Beautiful. Smart. Way out of my league. We're not even playing the same ball game." I ran a hand through my hair and felt the grime there. 

Glynda: "Good for you." 

Jaune: "Why?"

Glynda: "I think that's healthy. I'd be a shade more concerned if you really weren't attracted to anybody and you had nothing to strive for. Not that there's anything wrong with being asexual. But it's important to have personal goals for yourself and not just professional ones."

Jaune: "I'd love to impress her. Still. I'm just not really sure how. You know? In her time as the heiress or whatever she probably had all sorts of guys appeal to her so she's pretty much seen it all. I have no moves to make that she hasn't seen somebody else do better than I can. And I doubt my little collection of mass murderer trophies would make her stop and think in a good way."

Glynda: "Have you tried not appealing to her at all. Maybe you should just be honest with yourself and her and let your personality impress her."

Jaune: "I'm a schizoaffective loser."

Glynda: "You're not a loser just because you're schizoaffective."

Jaune: "I know that. I’m not stupid. I have totally separate reasons for why I'm a loser. I'm not funny and my personality isn't particularly pleasant to be around."

Glynda: "You have charm. You can be funny. Not exactly cracking jokes or something similar but you have a certain dry humor. Use that to impress her. Plus you've become surprisingly competent."

Jaune: "Well, thanks. I'll just use all those assets when I see her again and blow her away. Anyways. I'm safe. I'm back. My mission was a success and I thought you'd like to know that." I pulled my scroll from my side pocket and started tapping away and putting together what information I had on Cerise Genfield for CMAD. "Let's see if we can't wrangle ourselves up a serial killer. Yee-haw. I always did love outlaw justice. It's super fake. And it's basically all the murder with none of the guilt ."

Glynda: "Do you really think that?"

Jaune: "A little."

Glynda: "Go to sleep. Let the police and team CMAD track her down."

Jaune: "I hear you. I'm off to bed." 

[cozymochi]

Mild vent. Idk. I promise it’s not as bad as last nights utter mental shattering.

I don’t know what it is.

Maybe it’s a U.S centric Gen X mindset, or a remnant Boomer one from that “pull up your bootstraps” individualism thing, and no shade to any of the ones who follow me, my only point of reference are my parents and other older adults in my immediately family, and some friends families who tend to echo the same stuff—

Maybe it’s because a lot of my older family members never got to fulfill any particular ambition of theirs and had no choice but to work in fields they hate, maybe they overestimate how things work these days, and maybe it’s just me being an outlier…

But it’s so hard to discuss jobs especially creative ones of any kind when I’m the kind of person who is just… content working beneath somebody else. Or at least within a group professionally.

I don’t really have the ambition to start any individual practice or “be my own boss” so to speak. I don’t even feel comfortable in positions where I’m in charge of myself.

I don’t disagree that if that were to happen I’d probably be competent. I just feel more at ease and in my element when I’m able to just be given a task or assignment in a group setting and just doing it. Then going home and not think about it.

And if I outwardly say that I’m just… fine in that position I’m looked at weird and getting lectured about it. It’s not like I don’t get it… and I’m sure they just want better out of me or have a positive outlook that I could “be my own boss” in a hypothetical and have my own little business and be successful. As much as I do doubt myself in most cases, I just don’t feel any connection to those proposals at all.

I legitimately do not that any desire to do those things. At least, not now nor ever in the last few years. It just doesn’t really appeal to me.

I’ve never even got my foot in the door in a normal way yet to even know if a leap like that would work or is something I want.

I just know I’m genuinely more content just being given a task, doing it well (regardless if it ever surfaces, most don’t), and moving onto the next thing. I’m usually at my best there.

It’s a weird spot when I’m told that I can allegedly do “anything”, but when I say I just want to remain low key and I’m fine working under someone else, that suddenly isn’t a viable thing to be okay with.

“Oh you don’t wanna do THAT-“ “why dont you do this instead??” “im sure you could do this that and third and have your own —“ meanwhile I know every single one of them wanted that self sufficient whatever for themselves but never got it.

And it’s not like I’m not blind enough to see how hard, insular, exploitative and under-appreciated creative fields can be (and downright abusive, even).

I just… don’t have an urge nor want to do the most “ideal” and individualistic thing ever. I know what they’re saying is out of this idealized positivity, I get it. It’s not like I was the happiest person on earth with my old non-creative 9-5 job, yeah I would rather have been putting my skills to use, but I also don’t have much interest in being some kind of independent art business owner. Whatever that would entail. (the homies were even talking con booths and junk, like, sure hypothetically it sounds neat and shoutout to those who do it, but it’s not for me…)

I’m just… fine not shooting that high, nor being that notable. But I also didn’t hate my old job setup either. I wasn’t always excited to go in (who even is), but I didn’t hate it. I was pretty fine just …working.

Not that it matters. I don’t have a foot in that door anyway.

I don’t know. I don’t remember my point at all.

I’ll be rid of this later.

[am-i-interrupting]

Walk Home | Vox x Alastor’s Child— OATSH

Summary: A certain TV show host comes to your book signing and stays for a while after.

“Thank you so much for the support,” you said as a young woman clutched her now signed book to her chest and walked away.

You looked up at who was next in line, ready to begin the same bullshit you’d done for the last hour and a half but stopped as you saw a familiar show host.

“Any chance I could get this signed?” he asked with a smug smile as you stared at him.

“Of course,” you told him. He handed you the book and you put your pen to the interior. “What exactly are you doing here?”

“Like I said, I’d like to get to know you,” he replied.

“Oh? And stalking me is going to get you good favor?” you asked.

“It’s not stalking if it’s public knowledge.”

“Mmm hm. I suppose that may be true.”

“Suppose? Well, I had hoped you’d say you agreed but maybe if not to that then maybe you’d agree to meeting me later this evening?”

You snapped the book shut, eyes staring into his. You extended your arm slowly, carefully, precisely to hold his attention. He leaned a bit forward to get closer to you as he took it.

“Perhaps you’ll have to stick around and find out,” you told him in a whisper.

“I think I will,” he said before walking away.

You quickly shook yourself as you turned to address the next person in line.

When the time came where everyone packed their bags, you were ready to go. Not necessarily home. You’d been sitting for hours. You wanted to move. Just standing felt like such a big relief.

You stretched your hands above your head as you began walking towards the exit. Close to the wall, leaning against it was the show host. He kicked himself upright and opened the door for you.

“So, do I have the honor of accompanying you tonight?” he asked.

“On one condition,” you told him, “you understand that I’m not looking to hand myself over to an active duty man tonight or most nights to be frank.”

“I hadn’t been under the assumption you were,” he said.

“Good because I’ve had far too many men make that mistake before. It’s why I enjoy fairer company,” you said.

“I’d imagine it gets tiring,” he said.

“It does. Now, have you been to the Pandemonium?”

“I. . .” He blinked several times. “Yes, once.”

“Good, because I need to get buzzed at the least and ideally go for a loop ‘round the bender to forgot the bore that was today,” you told him. You looked over and saw his brows furrow. “What?”

“Nothing, you are just so surprising,” he said. “You’re, and I don’t mean any offense, not what you appear like.”

“Well, that’s the thing about appearances, they’re just that an appearance. This is all for show,” you said with a gesture towards your clothing. “I was raised by a serial killer and call girls, I’m far from decent.”

“I wouldn’t call you indecent company,” he said.

You rolled your eyes.

The rest of the walk and for the rest of the night the two of you made small talk. He asked you questions. You gave half truths. You asked him questioned and were given what you believed to be the same.

“You’ve had more to drink than me,” he said, words more than a bit slurred. “How are you not absolutely sloshed?”

A smile spread across your face, “I’ve got that New Orleans blood in me, honey.”

“Honey,” he repeated. “I like the way you say that.”

“Okay, I think you’ve had enough,” you said.

You began to pull your wallet out but he batted your hand away without touching. He pulled out his own instead and put some money on the bar as he stood up, leaning on the counter.

“Let me walk you home,” you told him.

“Oh? You’re walking me home now?” he asked.

“Only because you’re staggering instead of strutting,” you told him. “Now, where do you live?”

He gave you the directions and you followed him, making sure he didn’t topple on the way. Some confusion as to where he kept his spare key happened before you were able to unlock the door.

“Come in, won’t you?”

You looked out of the corner of your eye at his neighbors’ house, the porch lights on. “I’ll have to decline.”

“The neighbors don’t talk,” he said. “Even if they did, what more could they say than what a lucky man I am to have such a beautiful woman in my home?”

“You can’t know that,” you told him.

“They’ve never talked before,” he said. “Besides, we won’t do anything, just talk. I enjoy your company.”

“They don’t know that,” you replied. “Good night.”

“Sleep tight.”

You laughed to yourself. “You are far past—“ you dared to reach a finger out to poke at his forehead; he nearly tipped backwards—“tipsy.”

You reached for the doorknob and closed the door. Then you spun around and began making your way back to your hotel. There was liquor still on your lips and bit of a sashay to your hips as you walked through the dim streets.

You collapsed on the mattress still riding the combined trip of alcohol and good company.

[gold-rhine]

Sub! Heizou x GN Dom! Reader

A\N: Repost bc my previous blog got shadowbanned.

Warnings: nsfw, overstim, slight degradation, spanking, leash play, anal sex, cock stands for strap\cock as usual.

Wordcount: 3k

I don’t think there needs to be a lot of analysis to justify Heizou being a sub, it’s fairly intentionally in your face in both hangout and ahem, birthday “yawning” art, because that’s the most most obvious bottom “O-face” since Gorou’s “moaning and tearing up over the bowl of onions” emoji.

Like in two endings he straight up says out loud his confidence is partly a facade and he’d really love for someone else to sometimes step up and take the charge, but no one does bc ppl think he’s too smart.

”Haha, well, as you might see, I’m a little less confident than people might think.”

“And everyone around me thinks I’m so smart that I should be able to handle every case on my own.<...> But you’re different. Unlike them, you don’t have that kind of prejudice towards me. <...> So I’d like you to decide whether we should expose the truth or not.”

He’s not a pushover and he’s not a pillow princess-y type, but he’s also not a brat. He’ll encourage you to take the lead and won’t criticize your choices, but he will *evaluate them*.

First of all, on how well you’re keeping up with his hyperactive ADHD goblin nature, and second, he’ll leave the unspoken puzzle and see if you’ll manage to figure it out.

He’s open for experimentation and fairly shameless, but how far he’ll go pretty much depends on if he judges you competent enough for this.

Like, meeting him in the hangout starts with him openly calling Traveler “so dreamy”, and then he lets the Traveler decide what course of action to take, but only divulges hidden information after the Traveler showed that they have a deeper understanding of a situation and connected several puzzle dots themselves.

His inner conflict is when it’s immoral or not to withhold information and does it depend on how capable a person given this information is. The law does not really factor into this, Heizou will act on his own principles instead.

Like in the hangout case he only tells the Traveler that he will follow their choice (see above) after the Traveler presents him with the evidence and proves they have sound judgment.

So he’d *LIKE* to let someone else make decisions, but he wants to make sure that someone else is qualified. So he won’t like outright lie, but he will withhold context if you don’t show him that you get it.

Then he can get quite clingy, like telling Traveler that he’d love to have them as a partner all the time, haha he’s joking, he wouldn’t want to be so greedy…UNLESS???

In a situation where he does trust the other person’s competence, he likes to feel helpless, overpowered and needy, if you indulge him in it. His ideal situation is where you understand that he’s smart and capable himself and he doesn’t strictly need you to take charge, but would enjoy it.

He wants to have fun without anyone making it too weird, and he wants to know you have a clear head on your shoulders, that’s it.

One day while you’re walking down the street near your home, a group of obvious miscreants runs by and a young man in white shirt and brown shorts follows them. The last of ruffians shoves him while they’re running past you and you catch him to stop him from hitting a corner of a house with his head. When the bandit looks back, you instinctively shield a man in your arms with your shoulder, and the bandit obviously judges it not worth the trouble, runs away.

When you look at the man you’re holding, he’s looking up at you with a wide smile, bright green eyes twinkling.

“Oh, thank you, my savior!”

“I didn’t do anything,” you say, putting him upright. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sure, I’m fine!” he suddenly pauses, looks you over and says in a weaker tone, leaning into you. “I mean, I’m a little not fine, nothing major, but perhaps if someone could look after me for just a little bit?...”

You take him to get coffee just to keep an eye on him and end up talking for hours. His name is Heizou, he’s flirty, fun and cute, has ruffled mauve hair and little twin moles under his eyes, asks more questions than he’d like to answer about himself, wears a choker and a shirt that leaves his sides bare, and would very obviously love to get dommed from how he talks to you. But you cannot in good conscience take advantage of him now, because his eagerness might be an effect from the shock, so you let him go.

Day later you talk with a neighbor and he mentions how the young detective who from his words meets Heizou’s description just caught a group of pickpockets.

“Detective, huh?” you ask out loud, and some things that didn’t make sense before fall into place. Like an exaggerated weak affect and how eagerly he pushed himself on you.

Couple of days after you walk into a confrontation in one of the secluded courtyards on the way to your home. There’s Heizou and opposite of him a group headed by the large white-haired oni. It looks incredibly awkward and staged.

“Oh, it’s my savior again!” Heizou says coquettishly, smiling at you. “Hello there! It seems you’re just in time to save me once again.”

“From what?” you say calmly, crossing your arms.

“From being mugged, of course.”

“So these guys need to be arrested, huh?”

A tall oni starts shifting nervously, looking back and forth from you to Heizou.

“Hey, hey, we didn’t agree on…”

A green-haired woman elbows him and he stumbles.

“I mean, you can’t arrest us, we’re big bad bandits, rawr!”

You ignore him, looking Heizou straight in the eyes. He pauses for a second, then pretends to be fainting in your direction. You catch him, rolling your eyes. Green-haired woman punches the oni in his side and they run away with the entire group.

“Oh, thank you,” Heizou says, looking artistically disheveled in your arms.

“No problem, Detective,” you say coldly and he tenses, straightens up.

“So you know…”

“Yeah. And I don’t appreciate being played for a fool.”

“Listen, it’s not like that… It’s just that I... I wanted you to treat me like a sub, but you didn’t do anything after we first met, and I thought maybe if you see me in an even weaker state...”

“I didn’t do anything because you seemed too irrational from shock. If you just told me the truth that you’re detective and were fine, you’d be spread on my bed few nights ago.“

He blushes, but his green eyes light up.

“I would? Oh, I mean, I am fine and we cleared the misunderstandings, so?... Um? About spreading?“

You shake your head, narrowing your eyes.

“Only come to me if you’re ready to drop your bullshit. I’m sure you can figure out how to find me, Detective.“

“Hey there!” he’s bouncing on your threshold a day after with the widest obnoxious smile, and you wouldn’t see the tinge of nervousness under it if you weren't paying attention. “So you said I can come if I dropped the bullshit and um, you can pat me over, including cavity search if you want, to make sure I haven’t got any on me”

You roll your eyes, hooking your fingers under his choker, pull him close and kiss him. He stumbles for a second, but then melts, throws his arms around your neck and presses against you. You can feel him getting hard as you pull him towards the bedroom and then throw him roughly onto the bed. He looks up, his green eyes sparkling in delight.

“Cavity search?” you say incredulously, crawling over him to slide your hands under his shirt and pulling off both of his layers. “That was terrible.”

“I know, I know, I panicked,” he moves his arms to help you get the shirt off, then pulls frantically at the ties of the armguards. “I was going to say you have a search warrant, but somehow it turned into a cavity search.”

“You’re lucky you’re so cute,” you grin against his cheek and pull his pants and underwear off in one smooth motion. He gasps, and when you grab his ankles and forcefully spread his legs, he blushes but looks you straight in the eye, already fully hard and breathless in excitement.

“I am? I mean, of course I am, but do tell me more about it.”

You kiss him instead, roam your hands over his slender body, and he arches under you, moans against your mouth. You slide your hand down, close it over hard, twitching cock and he whines, bucks his hips against your palm.

“Oh yeah,” he whispers feverishly. “Yes... Don’t be afraid to treat me rough…”

“Oh trust me, I won’t,” you grope his leaking cock and balls in your hand, firmly like you own them, and he whines sweetly, looking up at you with excitement in half-narrowed eyes. When you slide your hand down and circle his entrance, he comes immediately, pressing himself against you.

You chuckle, kissing him.

“In my defense, I spent some long nights imagining you touching me, so I’m not taking criticisms on how quick I came,“ he mutters, squirming under you, cheeks blushing brightly.

You grin and stand up, moving away.

“Well, you’re not getting away that easily, kitten. I’ll be back shortly.“

When you walk back to the bed, he has finished taking off the last piece of the guard and is waiting for you, naked except for the elbow-high fishnet gloves and a choker.

“I have something that I think you would like,” you smirk, showing him a leash and he gasps, visibly lighting up.

“Have you thought about becoming a detective yourself? That’s spot on.”

“It wasn’t a very hard deduction to make,” you hook your fingers under his choker, lifting him up, and he follows, grinning under the bitten lip. He’s so lovely in how blushing and eager he is while you’re closing the leash on his neck, looking up at you from under the ruffled bangs.

You turn him around, so that he leans against the bedrest and he giggles, settling down on his knees.

“Oh, great, I wasn’t sure how to breach the subject of… consequences of being naughty.”

“You don’t try playing hard to get, do you?” you grin, slide your hand from his intentionally arched back to caress smooth skin of the perky ass, obviously and eagerly presented for you.

“No, why, would you want me to?” he shoots you a sharp glance over the shoulder, analytical even now.

“No,” you say pleasantly and slap his ass, hard. He gasps, shudders, but arches even more, presses quickly reddening, tender flesh harder against your hand. You spread him and run your fingers between his legs.“I like it when you’re being open.”

“I don’t see the point in denying the obvious,” he says, still sounding mostly collected, if a little breathless in excitement. “And if I don’t show what I want, how will I get it?”

You strike his ass again, several times in a row, until it’s blooming red and he’s whining quiet and sweet, then you stroke it.

“Very logical of you,” you say, squeezing his sensitive ass while he’s squirming needily under your hands, and kiss the sharp curve of his shoulder, move his ruffled hair aside and get to his neck. “Unlike the stunt you tried to pull earlier.”

“Oh well, I miscalculated,” he says airly. “And it’s not as if I was trying to deceive you, it’s that I know that once people hear who I am they misjudge… the way I’d want to be treated. So I just wanted to make sure you get the right impression.”

You tug on the leash, pulling him close, his back against your chest. He gasps, arches his back and rubs his ass against you.

“Or you could’ve just said so honestly, you dumbass,” you run your hand over his chest down, close it over his cock and kiss him, still tugging on the leash. He kisses you back, eager and a little sloppy, rocks his hips, rutting against your palm.

“Well, taking your advice on speaking openly,” he whispers breathlessly after breaking a kiss, his eyelashes fluttering against your cheek. “I’m close again and I want to come from you fucking me.”

“Good boy.”

You pull him into your lap, over the strap\cock, and he squirms, straddling your knees. You catch his chin, while he’s lowering himself over onto the head of your cock, make him meet your eyes, his own hazy green, cheeks bright in blush, pink lips half-open and taking short feverish breaths. You put your hands on his hips and push him all the way down until you’re fully buried in him, and he moans, shuddering and arching in your arms.

“Ah! Oh yes, yeah, like that, oh fuck…”

He rides you, his hips moving rhythmically and his hard cock bouncing against his stomach, but when you close your hand over it, he whines, digs his fingers into your shoulders.

“Please, no, I’ll come too soon if you touch me…”

You let him go and chuckle, pepper kisses over his neck, chest, lick over his pink hardened nipple, while he’s whimpering pleas and fucking himself on your cock.

“You’re really such a slut, aren’t you?”

“Yes, fuck, I love it, I love how your cock feels inside of me, please…”

You tug on his leash, making him arch, suck on the tender juncture between his shoulder and neck. He comes just like that, screaming, his movements turning frantic. You push him down on his back, roll over him without taking your cock out.

“Can you take any more, kitten?”

“Yes.. yes, please keep fucking me,” he’s trembling under you, but says this firmly, looks you in the eye without hesitation, his ass clenching around you. “Use me like I’m your toy…”

You lift his legs up, pressing his knees against his chest, exposing his ass and thighs, still pink from spanking. You can see his oversensitive red cock getting hard just from being spread and exposed like that, and when you thrust deeply into him, he screams and tries to lift himself off the bed, writhing under you. You grip his hips and fuck him hard, hitting his prostate, until his mouth is going slack and his eyes roll over, his pleas turn into incoherent moans and whimpers.

You lean down, cock buried deep inside him, kiss the corner of his mouth. He whines, his arms tightening around your shoulders and his hips rolling to take you even deeper.  

“You've been very good, kitten,” you whisper against his parted lips, his green eyes glittering with held tears. “Come for me, baby.”

He comes after a few thrusts, clutching at you, and you fuck him through it until he goes limp. Then you slide out of him, let him curl against you, his chest heaving, trying to catch his breath. You hold him and gently stroke his hair until he stops shivering, giving him time to come to senses before you’ll move to clean up.

“How fast will you want me to leave?” he asks, quietly, but his voice is firm, neutral. “I know I can be annoying in large doses, so if you need me to get out, I can…”

You silence him with a kiss, slow and sweet to calm him down. “It’s okay, kitten, you don’t annoy me. Don’t worry about it, just rest.”

He freezes for a second and then suddenly presses himself desperately against you, clutches at your shoulders. You stroke his hair, neck, sharp knobs of his spine soothingly, whisper sweet nothings in his ear until his body relaxes. He rubs his cheek against your chest and looks up with a cheeky grin.

“I am lucky that I’m cute, huh?”

[livwritesstuff]

2002, established relationship, dads!steddie living in boston with their 1yo daughter, another excerpt of this bc i think it's my actual fav part

“I’m done with this goddamn city,” Ed yelled up the stairs, “So fuckin’ serious, Steve. I’m out.”

Steve sighed, well-acquainted with this one of Ed’s many tirades.

Just as he was standing up from where he’d been sitting at his desk looking over some notes and prepping for a counseling session later that afternoon, he heard the door shut loudly (though not a full slam, he noted, because Ed had Moe with him). He headed out into the hallway in time to see Ed coming up the stairs, Moe balanced in one arm.

“What happened now?” Steve asked.

“An idiot BU kid driving Daddy’s Lexus almost T-boned me with Moe in the backseat because — apparently — red lights are just a fucking suggestion here.”

“I mean…I’m pretty sure you ran every red light in Hawkins when you were nineteen.”

It wasn’t a helpful comment, per se, and Steve knew that, but when Ed was riled up like this, there really weren’t any helpful comments available.

“That’s entirely different,” Ed countered, passing Moe over to him so he could pull off his own jacket, “There’s, like, six people on the road at any given moment in Hawkins, and two traffic lights.”

“Okay, well, we can move, love,” Steve said tiredly, steadily approaching his limit for how many times he could listen to Eddie rant about this particular issue without taking any sort of real action to solve it, “Nobody said we had to stay in Boston. Also — we can actually afford to buy a house now, so…”

“Wha— we can?”

“A down payment, yeah.”

“The fuck is a downpayment?”

“Uh…” Steve paused. He’d long since become comfortable with his role in his and Ed’s finances — being that he’s almost entirely in charge of them. He knew that Ed had grown up worrying about money in a way that Steve never had to so he actually liked being able to take over that part of their life together. He liked being able to let Ed not think about it (even though sometimes it meant that his thirty-five-year-old life partner asked him what a goddamn down payment was), “It’s kind of like putting a security deposit down on an apartment, except instead of for securing a lease, it’s for securing a loan — sort of. That’s…there’s better ways of explaining it, and there’s a lot more to it, but it’s sort of like we’re paying a certain amount of the mortgage upfront to prove that we’re committed to paying it off month-to-month.”

“How much is it?”

“Depends,” Steve shrugged, running a hand over Moe’s hair as she started to doze off, her head drooping down to rest on his shoulder, “Pretty sure twenty percent is considered, like, ideal, or something, so it all comes down to what our budget is.”

“What’s our budget?”

Steve leveled an eyebrow at him.

“What?” Ed asked.

“Do you actually wanna know? Because when I tried to show you our electric bill last week you pretended to be asleep.”

“Uh — buying a fuckin’ house together is totally different from you reprimanding me about leaving the heat on too long.”

“I don’t think I’d have to reprimand you anymore if you saw the electric bill.”

“Okay — yes, Stevie, I actually would like to be involved in our finances just this once because I care very, very deeply about us buying a house. I really do.”

“Alright,” he replied, knowing he still sounded a tad skeptical, “I mean, if you actually wanna know about this stuff, I’ve got some spreadsheets I’ve been using to keep track of that kind of thing, and we can—”

“Baby, if you wanted to talk about spreading sheets, all you had to do was ask,” Ed grinned wickedly, an expression that slowly began to fade as his eyes slid off of Steve’s and onto the opposite wall, probably as he considered how wise a comment that had been to make.

Steve stared at him for a long while.

“Okay,” he finally said, “I’m gonna go put our child down for a nap. If in that time you decide you can be a grownup while we talk about spending a fuck-load of money on property we’ll own and be entirely responsible for, let me know.”

“You got it, man.” 

[merakiui]

I can tell Yan!Floyd would be very very clingy and affectionate to his darling who’s now has a but of a little trust that floyd won’t hurt them

but imagine tho.. his darling has panic attack and floyd hug them and whispered sweet thing to them and telling them “I’m here, shrimpy. I’m not gonna leave you” what if he actually said the 3 words and 8 letters

(can i perhaps be 🦐 anon?)

He’s very clingy and affectionate! He’ll want to constantly touch you in some way, whether that’s by holding your hand or squeezing your hip or shoulder or hugging you tightly or carrying you around the house in his arms or even pulling you into his chest for a silly dance. Floyd’s affections will never be stifled; he will hug and kiss and cuddle whenever he’s feeling like it, regardless of whatever you may be doing in that moment. So when he reaches a level of trust with you where you allow him to hold you often, he’s immensely pleased and he won’t be able to keep his hands off of you.

If his shrimpy had a panic attack, Floyd would handle it surprisingly well. He’ll give you your space and talk to you in a soothing tone, telling you stories about random things to redirect your focus. If you look at him, he’ll smile gently. He’ll ask if it’s okay for him to hug you instead of simply enveloping you in his arms because he knows that embracing you suddenly might make your panic worse. Floyd handles you with the utmost care and affection and patience! He really dislikes it when his shrimpy is suffering. Even if your circumstances (i.e. having been kidnapped and confined) aren’t ideal and will take time getting used to, Floyd’s going to do what he can to make things comfortable for you.

He’s not good with confessions. He’s never had to confront overwhelming feelings like this before, so he might fumble a bit with verbalizing his emotions. But he does tell you that it’ll get better. He won’t sugarcoat this; it’s a situation that’s so not fun. But things will improve. He knows they will because he believes in shrimpy. He knows shrimpy can be strong and brave, and even if there are days when you aren’t Floyd can be here to be strong and brave for you!

He likes to cheer you up with a very silly line: “Did ya hear shrimp can fry rice?” And that, without fail, always prompts a smile and laugh from you because the way he asks it with so much serious curiosity is amusing to witness. Floyd will beam at you when you’re in his arms and he’s petting your head to soothe you in the aftermath of a panic attack.

“I ain’t gonna leave shrimpy,” he promises, interlacing your fingers and marveling at the way your hand fits in his. “I’d never. I like ya too much, so I’ll always be here for ya. Always.”

He’ll cook your favorite dishes to cheer you up even more. Floyd is a very good chef; you won’t be disappointed with any of the meals prepared by his hand. And if you’re okay with it, he’ll cuddle you into the sofa cushions so that you can be tangled in long, lanky limbs, cradled in his arms, so that his body weight upon yours will be a familiar reminder that he’s not going anywhere. You’ll fall asleep to a movie, but whatever’s playing is not all that important. What matters most is that Floyd’s here with his shrimpy and his shrimpy is here with him, not as two souls divided but as a pair.

[wit4writ]

PJO Episode 2 Detailed Review (Part 1/2)

So, episode two serves as our introduction to Camp Half-Blood and the world of demigods, and it wasn’t…great. I really didn’t want to write this review, hence the delay.

Before you come after me with torches and pitchforks, remember what I wrote about exposition robots? Well, this episode was FULL of them, which interfered with the flow of the story and development of characters. So, time to write a detailed review of episode two! (Which will be split in two parts because it’s so long.)

First up, a recap, which I didn’t have an issue with, so moving on.

Percy is in the infirmary after his big fight and sees a girl watching him. When he asks where he is, she tells him, “You drool when you sleep.”

This is a classic line from the book, but my biggest issue with putting the line here is that it feels very abrupt. Framing it as, “You know you drool when you sleep?” would make it flow easier.

Percy falls back asleep and wakes up again to Grover sitting beside him, and their conversation is fraught with tension as Percy grieves and Grover rambles. Again, this conversation could’ve been tightened up with less words.

Mr. D was great. Perfect casting, but I would’ve liked if we had character clues to Mr. D’s identity and Percy figuring it out instead of Grover telling him who he was. I appreciated Percy being a bit sassy, but I think he could’ve given him more attitude. I also didn’t need the whole “Mr. D pretends to be Percy’s dad” part, that felt a too cruel. My ideal scene would go something like this:

// Percy walks in to see Mr. D dozing.

Percy: “Excuse me?”

No response. Percy tries again, a bit louder.

Percy: “Excuse me? I’m Percy Jackson, I’m new here…Hello? Did you hear me? I said—”

Mr. D interrupts him, sitting up straight.

Mr. D: “Yeah, I heard you, Peter Johnson!”

Percy: “That’s not my name.”

Mr. D: “Well, that’s not my problem.”

Percy: “Hey, I’m just looking for the office, or someone who’s in charge?”

Mr. D scans Percy carefully, a gleam in his eye.

Mr. D: “You want to know where the office is? Well, maybe if you grab me that 1985 Chateau Haut-Brion in the galley I’d be able to remember.”

Percy: “Why can’t you just tell me?”

Mr. D: “You help me, I help you. It’s how the world works, Peter.”

Grover runs in, having overheard that last part.

Grover: “Mr. D, you know you can’t, you—”

Mr. D glares at him and Grover takes a step back and swallows hard.

Grover: “Uh, Percy, this is Mr. D—Mr. D, Percy.”

Mr. D: “Yeah, heard him the first time when he was interrupting a great nap.”

Percy: “Did you though?”

Grover: “Percy! Sir, he didn’t mean it—”

Percy: “Why are you so scared of this guy? Maybe if he could get off his own lazy butt, he’d get more blood to his brain and be able to remember my name.”

Mr. D stares at him darkly, Grover looking frantically between them both.

Mr. D: “Are you mocking me?”

Vines twine around Percy’s ankles, trapping him in place. Mr. D leans forward.

Mr. D: “You know, I could blast you, but if you get me that bottle, I’d be happy to forget this whole thing even happened.”

Mr. Brunner/Chiron (offscreen): “That’s enough.”

He enters the room on his wheelchair.

Percy: “Mr. Brunner?”

Mr. Brunner/Chiron: “Hello Percy. I’m afraid Mr. Brunner is a pseudonym I used while I was at Yancy—please, call me Chiron.”

Percy: “Oh. Okay…”

Chiron: “Mr. D, remember your restrictions.” (to Percy) “Zeus forbid Mr. D from consuming alcohol while he’s here.”

Mr. D: “Apparently, I need to ‘set an example,’ well I don’t think so, Dad!”

Percy: “Dad?” He thinks hard. “You’re Dionysus. The god of wine.”

Mr. D: “Wow, someone give the boy a prize before I blow him up.”

Grover: “Sir, Percy’s just distraught. His mom—”

Chiron: “Yes, I think we can be a little more accommodating, considering…”

Mr. D thinks it over.

Mr. D: “Sure. If he apologizes.” //

Percy then grudgingly apologizes, and Chiron ushers him out, quickly stepping out of his chair to reveal his true form. The last little scene where Grover says something doesn’t feel right is cut, instead he goes with them before Chiron sends him away to give them privacy. I think these changes would improve the flow and serve as characterization for not only Mr. D, but demonstrating his relationship with Grover, Chiron, and Percy.

The camp looked great, but Chiron’s speech over top of the montage served as more exposition. It would’ve worked better for Percy to be asking questions to make this an active conversation which he was a participant in. That’s why I appreciated Percy talking to Chiron about the pen, but I would’ve had Chiron introduce the name of the sword here and cut some of the words during his “magical items don’t obey the laws of the physical world,” bit. I would’ve rewritten a LOT of this whole conversation. I did like how Percy saw through Chiron’s rambling and realized the possibility of being unclaimed.

The Hermes cabin looked cool and Percy finding the blue candy still in his bag was a nice touch.

When Luke approaches, I think he should’ve said something so that it makes Percy’s first reaction to him more logical. Something like:

// In the background: “He’s the guy who killed the Minotaur, I think.”

Luke (offscreen): “We should find out.” (to Percy) “Hey.”

Percy looks over and sees Luke and his friends approaching.

Luke: “You’re the kid who killed the Minotaur, right? Percy something?”

Percy: “Yeah.”

Luke and his friends exchange looks.

Luke: “Wow. You must be pretty tough.”

Percy: “Look, if you want to give me a hard time, do it tomorrow. I can’t do any more today.”

Luke: “Relax, fighter. I didn’t mean it like that.”

Percy: “You didn’t?”

Luke: “Nah. I just wanted to say we heard about what happened on the hill. We’re sorry about your mom.”

The other kids nod.

Luke: “I know things are tough right now, but you’re gonna get through it. Believe me, it gets better.”

Percy: “Thanks.”

Luke extends his hand and Percy shakes it.

Luke: “I’m Luke. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood.” //

Then, I’d have Luke invite Percy to lunch and say something about giving him a tour the next day, to allow for a smoother transition to the next scene.

Unfortunately, now that we’ve been introduced to Luke, we need to…talk about Luke. His actor, I mean.

Firstly, I have no issue with how Luke looks. What I do have an issue with is how his actor is portraying him.

Luke is supposed to be charismatic and confident, a leader and camp counsellor. He’s lived at camp for ages, and everyone acknowledges his amazing swordsmanship, and even if he has failed a quest (though I’m not sure if they’re going with that storyline) he’s seemingly good-natured about it.

I’m not getting any of that from the actor. He comes off as more anxious than confident, someone who’d rather not be in the spotlight. Unfortunately, that impression carried throughout the whole episode, and it was not helped by the fact Luke was mostly an exposition robot to spout facts at Percy.

The darkness transition is now three seconds—still feels a little long, but better than the first episode.

Grover’s scene in the woods I would’ve cut entirely. It was sweet to see him with the dryad (who may or may not have been his mom), but it honestly wasn’t needed. I would’ve had Grover be in the background in the previous scene, maybe watching Percy go to lunch before heading off, then started the next scene with Grover, Mr. D, and Chiron already altogether, and had them vaguely hinting instead of outright saying Percy’s mom was alive, to increase the suspense. Something like:

// Grover: “I don’t understand, why haven’t you told Percy yet?”

Chiron: “The truth can be very dangerous if not handled carefully.”

Grover: “But it’s his mom! He deserves to know!”

Chiron: “Grover, there are powerful forces at work, and we still don’t fully comprehend their motives. If we tell Percy the truth too early, we may lose him.”

Mr. D: “Then you’ll be the worst Protector on record, between Thalia and this kid.”

Grover: “But I don’t want to lie to him. He’s my best friend.”

Mr. D: “Then I suggest you avoid him, because if you say one word of this, one word—I’ll put you on stable cleaning duty for the next year. Understood?” //

So that's the end of Part 1, PART 2 will be linked here. Thoughts, reblogs, and comments are welcome!

[luffysprincess]

HI AMIRA ❤️ I’m here for the interview game!! I’d love it if you would interview my boyfriend Kisaki 🤭 we’ve been together for a couple months now!

Three things I love about myself would be….my smile for one hehe. I really love that my friends feel comfortable talking to me when seeking advice or a shoulder for comfort. And I also love that I’m willing to try new things!!

And then three things about my selfship right? First, Kisaki was the one who helped me get my ex’s stuff out my apartment; he stood by my side while the cheater tried to blame Kisaki of all people for breaking us up! Crazy right? Second, Kisaki has been showing me how to use a gun 🫣 he says it’s important I know how to defend myself since people will come after me if they know we’re together 🥺 And third….whenever we have the day together, we start off by making love and having breakfast in bed 🥰

a/n: kisaki’s dialogue is bolded for an easier reading experience

“Is there a reason why you’ve got two men standing in the corner glaring at me?” the interviewer begins.

“There would’ve been five but I sent three to watch my girl.”

“Your girl? You mean Andy, correct?”

“Who else would I be talking about?”

“She didn’t come with you today?”

“No, she was pretty tired after this morning. I decided it was best for her to sleep in.”

“What happened this morning? Is she okay?”

“Andy’s perfect. She just can’t walk and probably won’t be able to for the rest of the day.”

“Oh is this a normal occurrence?”

“No, usually our morning activities are more gentle, so to speak. But this morning, the sight I woke up to filled me with the sudden urge to completely ruin her.”

“I don’t know whether to feel bad for the girl or not.”

“Don’t worry she’s fine. This wasn’t the first time. Besides, if anyone can take it, it’s her. She was meant for me,” he grins.

“Okayyy moving on to our next question: How serious are you about your relationship with Andy?”

“As serious as the men behind me who are willing to put a gun to your head if you ask a question that stupid again.”

“Woah okay, no need to get hostile. I'm just reading the cue cards. Don’t shoot the messenger…” the interviewer mumbles the last part, “...literally.”

“Next question, I don’t have all day.”

“What has you so busy today?”

“I’ve gotta buy a new bed frame, since I broke our current one just a few hours ago.”

“Goodness– how did y– no you know what. Nevermind.”

“I wasn’t kidding when I said she’s bedridden from our morning happenings,” Kisaki smirks.

“ALRIGHT, lets move on to something less inappropriate. What’s an ideal date with your girlfriend look like?”

“Well…” Kisaki smirks again, hinting at a not so inappropriate thought. He laughs at the interviewer’s incredulous expression before he continues, “An ideal date would most likely start with the two of us getting ready for dinner together. She teases me with the new dress I bought her, and then I fuck her in it. We show up just a tad bit late, but enjoy our time there nonetheless. I may or may not fuck her again in the restrooms, depends on if we’re truly enjoying the food or not. And then we end the night enjoying some drinks on our penthouse balcony. No scratch that, we stick to the infinity pool instead. Either way, I’m having her against any surface there is. Finally, we fill the night with endless love making.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“One last question. That’s been there since you walked in here.” The interviewer points to the cube shaped protrusion in his pants. “It doesn’t look like a gun, and I know sure as hell you’re not excited to see me, so what is it?”

Pulling out the box, Kisaki answers, “This morning really confirmed a lot of things for me today. So this is your sign that the next time you see Andy, you’ll be addressing her as Mrs. Kisaki.”

[karuvapatta]

So this is me, trying to write some light and fluffy Jon/Elias.

....yeah.

***

“Uh, Jon? You okay?”

“Yes,” Jon says, through gritted teeth, and wonders if it’s too early in the day for another smoke break. “I’m fine. Perfectly fine. Everything’s just great, isn’t?”

Martin takes a hesitant step back.

“Well, actually—”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“I know that!” Martin’s face twists into a scowl, and Jon feels a well-deserved stab of guilt. He was supposed to stop that, wasn’t he? Stop keeping people at arm’s length, stop being mean and short-tempered, stop with the suspicions and stalking and baseless accusations—just. Stop.

Jon forces himself to breathe, imagining sharp taste of smoke filling his mouth, creeping down his lungs. He exhales, almost able to watch the puffy little cloud—

“Elias called. He wants to see you.”

Jon bites back a string of curses, because it would be unprofessional. He isn’t fooling anyone, though, not even Martin, who just pats him on the shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world, for him to touch Jon. For anyone to touch Jon.

“I’ll make tea, shall I?” Martin says brightly.

“Oh, great,” Tim says. “I didn’t feel like doing all this work, anyway.”

He has been slacking off as much as possible, these past few days (weeks?), straddling a fine line between plausible deniability and outright disrespect. Jon cannot even pretend to fault him for that. Sasha’s own hunger for knowledge prevents her from following in Tim’s footsteps, while Martin’s overall efficiency hasn’t wavered in either direction.

Most of the time, though, they act like everything is fine. They drink tea and eat lunch and follow up on statements, they make jokes and smile and laugh – somehow managing to ignore the fact that all this work is in the service of a powerful, malevolent entity, that they are bound to an evil cult, that their own boss is holding them hostage.

And they ignore this: that it’s all because of Jon. Stupid, short-sighted, arrogant Jon, who damned himself to this life, and then damned his assistants, too. Who cannot do anything to save them. Whose breakdown was understandable, apparently, whose behaviour was unacceptable but everyone’s willing to move past it anyway, so long as he promises to be better in the future.

Except he doesn’t know how. He just doesn’t. And they know that, and he knows that they know, and every time Tim or Martin or Sasha smiles at him in spite of all of this, Jon just wishes they’d punch him instead.

“Tea’s up!” Martin says, after the timer beeps. He has his own little ritual, preparing the tea to everyone’s liking. Despite his best efforts not to stare or catalogue their behaviour, Jon realizes now that it calms him, that the faint tremor in his hands stops when he’s preparing tea, that his posture relaxes and the smile tips over from slightly forced to genuine. It’s—sweet. Worryingly so.

“Thank you,” Jon says.

“So what pissed you off earlier?” Tim asks.

“HR called about health check-ups,” Jon says flatly. “Apparently, we’re due one soon. They asked if I’d describe our work environment as ‘particularly stressful’.”

Tim laughs, a short, unpleasant sound. Sasha just frowns.

“Do you think HR knows what’s really going on here? Or Library, or Research? It can’t just be us and Elias, right?”

“Ask them next time,” Tim says. “Maybe we can get ourselves institutionalized if they don’t.”

Would it even work? Would a mental health facility, or even a prison, keep them safe from Elias’s prying gaze? Maybe that’s something to consider. Not an ideal solution, but…

“Speaking of Elias—shouldn’t you…?”

“Oh, let the bastard wait,” Tim says.

“Tim.”

“What? You don’t think he’s watching us all the time, do you?”

“I don’t know,” Jon says.

He needs to get them out. He just—he just needs to.

“You’re right though,” Jon says, rubbing his forehead in the faint hope that it’ll make his headache go away. “I should be going. Off to another pointless conversation.”

Sasha blinks at him. “Oh? I thought he was teaching you—you know—” she waves her hand around, in an abstract and vague manner.

“He isn’t teaching me anything,” Jon says. “Most of the time, he just sits there and stares at me. I just.” His shoulders sag. He curls his hands around the comforting warmth of his teacup and wishes, stupidly, that he could hold Martin’s hand instead. “I just don’t know what he wants from me.”

“Well,” Tim says. “For one thing, he probably wants to fuck you.”

Martin spits out his tea and starts coughing, violently. Jon narrowly avoids knocking over his own cup, while Sasha rushes to Martin, to make sure he’s not choking on the hot liquid. He is red in the face, weakly trying to get Sasha to stop pounding on his back, while Jon can only watch, in abject horror.

It takes several minutes before anyone breaks the heavy, oppressive silence. Jon is rather surprised to find himself speaking as calmly as he does.

“That joke was in poor taste.”

Unrepentant, Tim just shrugs. “Wasn’t joking.”

“Tim!” Martin yells, scandalized. His face is flushed, although it’s hard to judge if it’s from anger, embarrassment, or exertion.

“What?” Tim asks. “You all thought it!”

“I assure you,” Jon says, still perfectly calm. “I did not.”

“Yeah, but you’re not exactly an authority on the subject, are you?” Tim says.

“Now what’s that supposed to mean?” Calm. Still.

Tim doesn’t elaborate. Sasha is fiddling with the sleeve of her sweater and pointedly not meeting anyone’s eyes. Martin is the only one who looks appropriately shocked and scandalized, with an undercurrent of rage that Jon cannot guess the source of.

“Tim,” Jon says. “What did you mean?”

He wishes there was something triumphant in Tim’s expression – a vicious satisfaction at getting the blow to land. At embarrassing Jon in such a crude, vulgar manner. Some measure of animosity or hatred that one could cling to. As retaliation, it was perfectly well-deserved; as a joke, Jon cannot handle it.

But Tim only looks at him, tired and—pitying? Is that it? Because as a statement of fact, Jon cannot even begin to consider it…

“I am sorry,” Tim says. “I know it’s not appropriate to speculate, because you’re my boss, and I don’t actually know about your preferences or anything. But you can be a bit oblivious to people hitting on you. I mean, you didn’t notice it when I did it back in Research, and I thought I was being pretty blatant.”

Jon’s mind tries to make sense of that statement. He thinks back to his interactions with Tim – they were quite friendly, definitely much more so than since Jon’s promotion. And Tim was quite flirtatious, sure, but he was like that with everyone. It was just Tim’s personality.

As for Elias—no. It doesn’t even bear thinking about.

“So? You think I’m sleeping with Elias?”

He cannot stop himself from asking the questions, and it seems that Tim cannot stop himself from answering.

“I never said that. I just think that he’s interested in you.”

“Based on what? That he made me Head Archivist? That he wants to sacrifice me to his God, or whatever it is he’s planning?” Jon is laughing now, and it sounds jarring and unnatural even to his own ears. It sounds more like Michael’s laughter than anything that should be coming out of his mouth.

“No, based on the way he’s always looking at you!” Tim says, louder. “And it’s not just me who thought as much, mind you. When you got promoted—”

He stops abruptly. Jon laughs and laughs, until he feels the sharp sting of tears in his eyes. Martin and Sasha stare at him as if he was going insane, which is honestly rather hurtful, as he isn’t the one spouting absolute nonsense right now.

“This isn’t funny, Jon” Martin says quietly.

“I beg to differ,” Jon says. Then, struck with another unpleasant thought on top of the other unpleasant thoughts, he turns to Sasha. “Is that what you thought, too? That Elias didn’t make you Head Archivist because he was involved with me?”

“No!” Sasha bites her lip, before she carries on, the words seemingly dragged out of her throat. “I mean—yeah, okay, it crossed my mind once or twice. But that was then. Before we learned what this place really is – who Elias really is.”

So people think Jon slept his way into a position he is obviously unsuited for. His own assistants thought that. And it would be insulting if it wasn’t so utterly absurd – aside from Jon’s own aversion to sex, he isn’t particularly attractive. If that was Elias’s only criteria, there were plenty of better-looking people to choose from. To think otherwise would be arrogant, borderline delusional.

Not for the first time, Jon wishes he could be normal about this. Had he been in a stable relationship, no one would think to entertain such ridiculous rumours. No one would whisper behind his back about his preferences, or wonder just what the hell was wrong with him. Was he just frigid and unpleasant, or was there something deeper? An unresolved trauma? Something vile, unnatural, wrong?

All things considered, maybe he’s getting off easy. There are worse things people could be accusing him off.

He is tired, Jon realizes. Exhaustion weighs heavily on his limbs, slows down his thoughts, blurs his vision. And he still needs to talk to Elias today.

“Look. I’ll—I have to go,” he says. He looks down at his hands, splayed on the table, and tries to push himself up. Wills his legs to carry his weight. Get him where he needs to be.

“Jon,” Tim says. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said all that.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Sasha says.

“Don’t be,” Jon says. “It’s fine. Nothing happened, right?” It’s not as if their opinion of him can get any lower. It’s not as if it wouldn’t be warranted, if it did.

“But what if something does happen?” Martin asks. The terror in his voice is enough to sap whatever energy Jon has left, leaving behind pure, impotent rage.

“What exactly do you think I’m going to do, Martin?” Jon asks. “Fuck Elias in exchange for letting me go? Promoting me further? Bestowing some of his powers upon me? Please tell me, because I am very interested in what you think I could possibly gain here!”

They are all so very, very quiet.

“Jon, this isn’t—this isn’t about what I think you’re going to do,” Martin says, softly. “It’s about what Elias might plan to do to you. You get that, right?”

No, Jon doesn’t. He doesn’t get Martin’s horrified, pale face, or Sasha’s grim expression, or Tim’s vaguely nauseated one. This feels like a step too far. And he wants to laugh again, or scream, or maybe even cry, because of the ridiculousness of it all. But he is still their fucking boss, and he promised to be nicer.

“Look,” he says, choosing his words very, very carefully. “I appreciate your concerns. I really do. But what you’re suggesting here is beyond ridiculous. Especially compared to everything else that’s happened. So, please. Let’s all go back to our actual jobs and never, ever mention it again, okay?”

He doesn’t wait for their response. They’ve already said too much.

[bigtittylawyer]

How much do your services cost?

@chaos-cousins

Okay, hello, the best answer I have for you is “it depends.” In an ideal world I’d be able to take every case pro bono or close to it, unfortunately I do need to eat.

Generally, we do take on murder cases specifically—the few times that we have branched out, those cases may not have started as a murder case but they sure did finish up as one, so be aware of that if you want to hire us for something else—and honestly I’d prefer discussing payment privately but I will let you know up front that if what we’re charging is too much, we very much do have other options so don’t give up.

…That said, I’m currently eyeing what is looking to be a very rough case, and while under normal circumstances I could likely handle two or more cases at once, this is probably going to take all of my attention until it’s wrapped up. Would you be alright with Phoenix instead of me?

(Actually, wait. Aren’t you in Hoenn? That… may be difficult given that Jacali is nowhere near there…)

[marydswitchduet]

Chastity Log Day 9 7/22

What did we do?

After we ran some errands, mommy made me strip and diaper up and wear a pink and white Teddy

I thought I look pretty good tbh. Later, mommy played my Spotify story again where the protagonist is in a nursery for little and she slowly becomes one as treatments to make her an ideal little to be adopted by amazons in the dimension of the story

I guess the idea of it being forced is a nice fantasy of sorts, where it’s not a choice made by you because control is essentially taken away from you.

Once done, I was humping Mommy’s thigh through my diaper and sucking at her tits. At first, I wasn’t hard and just enjoying the sensation. Then, every once in a while mommy would rub her pussy juice on her nipple and in my mouth for me to taste

Every time I smelled and tasted it, I’d get harder and hornier. Later, she rubbed it under my nose which didn’t help for my self control

I have rules that if I’m gonna use my diaper at all, I have to ask mommy for permission first and then after she says ok, I say thank you

2 suppositories and 1 enema later I’m on the toilet after begging to get out of my diaper so I don’t have to mess in it. I think if I have suppositories in the future I need to eat more as some of that felt painful.

After I was cleaned out, I showered and came back to mommy. She had me put in a plug, there’s an electric one but I couldn’t wear cuz it wouldn’t fit. I was able to get another one to fit instead.

Mommy was okay with that; she began teasing and sucking on my cock. She’d tease me and bite or scrape my cock in between sucking and was painful.

She was switching between playing with my nipples and playing with my cock. The pain was excruciating but mommy would reward me if I could take it. I wanted to make her proud.

Later, mommy used my little cock in her pussy. But, I couldn’t hold on long without feeling like I would make cummies. That’s what I say now to mommy when I think I’m gonna finish. But I know I’m not supposed to, so I make sure to tell her. Even so, it’s so hard 😭

Mommy’s pussy feels so nice and warm and tight around my little cock. I could feel her squeezing bits of precum. She warned me that if I couldn’t help myself I needed to be out in a diaper. I wanted to enjoy mommy’s pussy but she felt too good.

Eventually I had to give up and put on a diaper. I also had to hump mommy’s stuff is again through my diaper. While doing that, mommy had me get the vibrator wand. She used it on my diaper, the stuffie, and my nipples.

Mommy said sometime maybe I’d jump my stuffie without a diaper. 😳 idk why but that just feels wrong and kinda yucky.

I kept humping mommy’s thigh til she told me that was enough.

How did it feel?

For me, I realized the more baby talk we use the deeper into the little headspace I go.

The suppository prolly would’ve felt different if I’d eaten more that day. If I ever revisit I’ll need to make sure I eat more that day otherwise the pain of trying to force a BM with nothing there may be an issue for my insides

Mommy’s pussy felt amazing, too much pleasure for me to handle. I liked mommy calling me her good girl, but I think I’d need to feel more feminine outwardly for it to feel effective. Wearing more feminine presenting baby stuff or pink lingerie, makeup, etc.

No objections of being called a good boy though cuz we’ve had that in our dynamic for a while now. While the plug didn’t shock, I did enjoy my asshole squeezing around it when I’d get pain or pleasure. My prostate would be hit too and it would be heavenly.

The vibrating wand felt amazing and I felt little and pathetic, in a good way if there was one, when it was used on me either on my diaper directly or on the stuffie.

How are you feeling, ball-wise?:

Aside from when Mommy slapped my balls, they didn’t seem to hurt which was nice

What do I want more/less of in our current dynamic?:

Because of the diapers, I’d prolly feel more little if I had to constantly pee when the feeling came up rather than having to flood it every time.

More dirty talk, since that gets me into a space more than anything; will look into

Look into little space time that is non sexual as well

Things I’m Enjoying:

Most everything so far ❤️ feeling cute

Feeling small, little, and safe

[steveharrington]

with the full knowledge that they probably won’t get the best endings bc the duffers don’t know what to do with their own characters, what would your ideal endings be for the st main characters? or like at least the ones you care about? like in an ideal world

this is so fun i’m gonna do as many as i can think of <3 i don’t think the duffers are gonna do a Huge time jump at the end of the series (i could b wrong) so i’m just gonna base these on like roughly anytime in the next year after s4

steve: ideally steve would not be in a romantic relationship and completely satisfied with this outcome. i’m not saying he should like Never get his little domestic dream but i think he needs some time to focus on himself instead of constantly weighing his self worth based on whether or not he’s romantically valued. i also think it would be nice if he found something that gave him fulfillment whether it be a specific job or hobby or even just like continuing to be best friends forever with robin <3

robin: i wouldn’t mind if she ended up with vickie because i genuinely like the way their relationship has been set up, but if she was single by the end too i’d be okay with that. mostly i want robin to get out of hawkins and meet other gay people and find a community where she doesn’t feel like an outsider. maybe make some weird art. and to continue being best friends forever with steve <3

nancy: i’m begging on my hands and knees for nancy to end the show single. i think she gravitates towards relationships because they feel safe to her, but she’s ultimately unsatisfied because she has goals and aspirations that don’t necessarily fit with steve/jonathan and i think she needs to just focus on herself without having to factor someone else into the equation. i think she should go to school for journalism, maybe start some kinda nonprofit, and help barb’s parents get their house back after murray SCAMMED their asses

jonathan: honestly i just want jonathan to have like….someone who acts as a consistent emotional support. doesn’t matter who it can be argyle it can be nancy in a platonic sense i just want him to be given the space to express his feelings without them always taking a backseat to someone else. i think a fun career for him would be music journalism

argyle: we don’t know shit about his personal life or his background but i just want him to be able to return to his life pre-vecna without too much trauma <3 like obv i want that for everyone but argyle especially is so happy go lucky and it would be so sad if he lost his vibes

max: god please i just want her to be happy and have peace. i want her to stay with lucas, romantically or platonically idrc i just want them to be Together in some sense and i want her to feel safe and happy that’s all i ask

lucas: same as above AND i want lucas to get to fully explore his identity with actual genuine support from his friends. i can see him going through high school trying a little bit of every club and hobby and group and i want him to just like grow into himself and have the freedom to do that <3

dustin: again happiness and safety PLEASE also idk how to explain this but i want dustin to like…lower his guard. i feel like in s1 & 2 he was much more trusting and had more faith in people vs s3 & 4 where he’s just constantly assuming that his friends are like incapable of doing anything? i know it’s just bad writing for bad jokes but i’m choosing to believe it’s his defense mechanism and his way of dealing with trauma by being like “well luckily i’m a genius and i’ll fix everything >:)” and i want him to like let go of that and be more carefree again

el: again this applies to all of them but for el especially i want her to have stability and to feel safe. i want her to get the family and home she craves so badly with joyce and hopper and jonathan and will, and i want her to get to try things out and shape an identity kinda like lucas. i want her to have a little bedroom where she can try out new hobbies and not have to worry about packing up because someone died again

mike: honestly this is the toughest for me to envision and i don’t really know why? like obv i want him to be happy feel safe etc but i can’t think of anything like Concrete for mike’s ending that i absolutely want to see. maybe just permanently reunited with his friends idk

will: i want willy b to feel comfortable and find joy in being gay and also come out to joyce <3 and maybe hopper <3 idk i want will’s story to go back to his family, the way it started, and for him to realize that he’s still very young and mike’s feelings don’t have to determine his personal happiness and i feel like the best way for him to reach this conclusion is just by knowing that his mom and brother will always have his back

erica: ugh god i want her to like finish middle school unscathed 😭 the writers ignore her feelings so much so it would be nice if for Once they let her acknowledge what she’s been through maybe via a conversation with lucas. idk why but out of all the characters i can really See erica getting therapy skdndnc like i think she’d enjoy it <3

joyce: lord idk i want joyce to somehow know with certainty that everything is Over and that she doesn’t have to be on alert anymore. that’s probably not plausible given the nature of the story and the fact that she’s naturally always going to look over her shoulder BUT i would be ecstatic if the ending somehow gave her this 100% surety that it was officially over

hopper: i just fucking want him to be el’s dad man <3 i want him to take her fishing and get her a pet cat and help her with homework at the table and do a bad job wrapping presents on her birthday like i just want him to live out the rest of his life with his #1 priority always being el <3

murray: in jail for scamming the hollands out of their house

[madbalalaika]

Get to know you - tag game

*GASP* I'm honoured, @an-excellent-choice, thank you for the tag :з

✨ Last song you listened to:

THE WHOLE ALBUM IS GOOD GO LISTEN TO IT

(i've been mentioning it every chance i get ever since i first listened to it like 7 years ago, it's just too good :"D)

Edit: fun fact, I kinda had a cool BG3 idea with this song that I'm not sure if I can pull off. I know I do, I think I do, I hope I do~~~

✨ Favourite colour: as an artist, because I stare at colours all the time, there's really too many that I absolutely adore. It's impossible to tell which ones I like best, though what I can say is what's my favourite combination: it's the one on the album cover of this song ⬆

Cold greyish brown or brownish dark grey/slighly dull light blue + very bright light blue/turquoise.

✨ Currently watching: One Piece. Last summer, I suggested my family and I watch it together, and we're still going. Currently on the post-Marineford arc!

✨ Favorite flavour:

Oof, the flavour that a cup of almond hot chocolate has. Also popcorn? I once had a period of only drinking lattes with Monin popcorn syrup, and let me tell you it was GODLY

✨ Current obsession: BG3, no doubt

✨ Last thing I googled:

Vegan nutella :"D I bought this gluten-free dairy-free nutella-ish paste that was... let's say... edible. Bland kinda, and just sweet. So I went out to search for some other brands, and found lots of cool recipes instead. This one, judging by the ingredients, by far seems the most delicious. Too bad I don't have a food processor :")

✨ Favourite season:

Spring/autumn. Gods, anything but hot summer, really, but those 2 are the most ideal.

✨ Skill I’d like to learn:

Some foreign languages that I've already learned some of before, and would just like to reach at least a passable level in: like Chinese, Japanese, Korean, German, and Welsh. I'm really out of practice with those.

Also some ADHD learning/working techniques that would actually work :"), as not being able to keep some sort of routine is the sole reason I've not yet gotten good at those languages and haven't started on different big projects I have only in mind for now.

Maybe I need to buy a clicky fidget toy or something. Oh well, at least I have a clicky keyboard, so that's nice :3

✨ Best Advice:

And I guess this is for the miserable-from-childhood folks like me. REST IS VERY GOOD, PEOPLE. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise, not even yourself. The circuits of a computer that has been overworked and overheated because it's never been allowed to cool off will eventually burn out from all the heat damage they endured, and it will shut the whole machine down.

What rest means for you, you'll have find out for yourself.

I know, for some us (me included), it's nearly impossible not to feel guilty for enjoying the things in life that would otherwise bring us happiness, but if there's one thing I've learned from the past 8-9 years of constant unbearable stress from guilt and self-hatred (and many external factors, yes), as well as many medical diagnoses later, is that your physical body will not only not say thank you for that, but eventually it will actively start dying.

Same goes vice versa: untreated health issues will lead to many mental health problems (example: I've been gluten-intolerant for quite a while and didn't learn that until a year and a half ago, and this whole time, the inflammation in the body was giving my nervous system so much anxiety and depression that I couldn't cope with it anymore), so the moral is

Yes, take care of your body, or at least whenever you have the capacity to and allow yourself to rest when you feel like you're tired, but also enjoy the things that make you happy, be it a delicious dessert, or a good book, or a tv show, or spending time with friends if you have them, whatever. You have all the right to do so because you matter, okay? Your well-being and good health matters, your happiness matters, everything about you matters, and not a single shitbag can change that. If you feel like no one cares for you, know that at least I do!

Also tagging my mutuals, @arczism, @noblestalk, @okthisway, @wrathe, @teilzeiteinhorn ❤

[acefms]

FUTURE GOALS / PLOT LINES | TASK ONE.

ace.

therapy/healing — despite how much he tells himself he’s fine and that he has no unresolved childhood trauma, in reality he does. abandoned by his father and used by his mother for her own selfish needs, he has a lot of trust issues and a lot of insecurities in himself because of this. I would love to see him realize that if he’s to have any kind of normal future, he may need a little bit of help to move past these issues.

letting someone in — while ace doesn’t struggle to make friends, not many really know him completely. he doesn’t like to let anyone see what’s really going on behind the smile and jokes. I would like — and he would too despite how much he denies it — to see him slowly begin to trust someone and let them in past a surface level. romantically, platonically— either would be amazing. or both.

showcasing art — ace has absolutely no issues with showing off his cartoon work, it’s what pays the bills after all. but he also has more personal pieces that he paints that more so represent him as a person on the inside and I would eventually like for him to feel more comfortable showing the world.

adopting all the pups and buying a house — rescuing charlie was the best thing he ever did, and he plans to adopt as many dogs as he can handle once he gets a better grip on his own life. when he pictures his future the only thing he knows for sure as that he wants a house with a huge garden for all of his future dog kiddos.

children. eventually. big maybe — the idea of children honestly terrifies him at this point in his life, though with a little growth I feel like he’d be such an amazing, fun dad. he just needs to come to terms with the fact that he’s nothing like his parents and that he won’t necessarily fuck his potential kids up the way they did him.

sofia.

learning to love the person she’s becoming — going straight from a controlling household with a lot of expectation into a whirlwind marriage didn’t leave sofia with a lot of time to find her own footing as a person, however over the last couple of years she’s really been growing into her own, and the more time that passes the more okay she is with spending time in her own company. personal growth is definitely a big thing for her.

being a mother — the ultimate goal. she’s known ever since she was young and helping to take care of her brothers that she wanted to be a mother. It’s something she’s always felt she was meant to do. while wanting to be fully happy with herself first, this is a definite. in what way she isn’t sure yet, but she’s very open to adoption or a donor if it isn’t something that happens naturally for her.

resolving conflict with one or all brothers — despite them turning their back on her to keep themselves within the wealth of their family, I do think they still care very deeply for her. I can see them slowly begin to reach out in the future once they’ve went on to start their own families and realize the importance. while it would be difficult for her to forgive, at the end of the day she helped to raise them and that is a love that cannot be erased.

atlas.

healing his heart — since the death of his girlfriend almost seventeen years ago, he’s been carrying a lot of misplaced guilt. regardless of him being in no way able to stop the situation, he still thinks he could have changed things if he’d been there and often wishes it was him instead of her. Ideally I’d like for him to come to terms with what happened and to accept that it wasn’t his fault, and that she wouldn’t want him to feel like this for the rest of his life. she would want him to live his life to the fullest.

learning to love again — while he’s had casual flings and one night stands, he hasn’t had anything close to serious in the past seventeen years. watching him learn how to navigate the dating world now would be so fun, though anyone he gets involved with is set for a bumpy ride because stepping out of solitude is never easy. he’s used to keeping himself guarded and keeping things close to his chest. this is bound to cause conflict.

forming deeper connections — he doesn’t often let people in, but when he does he’s very lovable, very protective asshole. he could use some real friends, and over time I would love for him to build a real sibling bond with his half-sister ripley.

luna.

change as many lives as she can for the better — it’s so important to her to help kids growing up in similar situations that she did. she knows how lucky she was to end up with a loving adoptive family, and strives to help each person she comes in contact with throughout her career. I would however like to see how failure to do so effects her.

opening herself up to romance — she’s had relationships but they never seem to last. ask her about love and she’ll look at you like she’s about to puke. but deep down part of her would like someone to share the whole life thing with. however she is extremely used to being super independent and struggles to let people help her with most things. I’d love to see her find a happy balance of it all.

adopt a child — like, far in the future. maybe. if she ever is to have children, she wouldn’t mind having them be biological, but she also knows she 1000% wants to adopt in the future regardless. her dads gave her the best chance in life and she would love to do the same. however at this time in her life she doesn’t feel ready at all. I could however see her taking a young adult under her wing in a sibling vibe kinda way, one that is maybe going off the rails and needs a little help. she simply can’t help herself.