#air is made of chemicals. water is made of chemicals. YOU ARE MADE OF CHEMICALS
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Men’s Chastity Cage Safety: What to Know Before You Lock Up 🔐💕✨
Chastity cages are more than just a kink accessory—they’re a way to explore trust, self-control, and power dynamics in a relationship. The appeal of wearing a cage often lies in the physical and psychological thrill of surrender, as well as the heightened sexual tension that comes from restraint. For many, chastity cages create a mix of vulnerability and excitement, deepening intimacy with a partner or building an intense connection to one’s own desires. But as with any new experience, safety is essential to fully enjoy it.
How to Fit Yourself for Your First Cock Cage
Finding the right fit is crucial to ensure comfort and safety when wearing a chastity cage. Start by measuring your flaccid penis carefully in both length and girth—most cages are designed to hold you comfortably in a relaxed state. For length, measure from the pubic bone to the tip of the head, and for girth, measure around the base of the shaft. Many find a cage that’s slightly smaller than their flaccid length provides a snug but comfortable fit, discouraging erection without excessive discomfort. Make sure the ring size that sits behind the scrotum also fits without pinching or restricting blood flow.
Safety Precautions for Before, During, and After Use
1. Before Use: Before locking in, inspect the cage for any rough edges or points that might irritate or scratch the skin. Always use a lubricant, such as a body-safe silicone or water-based lube, on the inside of the cage and on any contact points to reduce friction. Start slow—wear the cage for short periods and gradually increase the time as you become more comfortable.
2. During Use: While wearing the cage, pay attention to any pain, tingling, or numbness. These sensations can indicate circulation issues, so if you feel discomfort that doesn’t ease within a few minutes, unlock and check for any signs of redness, swelling, or bruising. It’s also important to avoid prolonged chastity sessions initially, especially overnight, until you’ve built experience with shorter sessions.
3. After Use: After removing the cage, gently massage the area to restore blood flow. Keep an eye out for any redness or chafing that may need time to heal before your next session. Applying a soothing moisturizer or aloe vera gel can help with any minor irritation or dryness caused by the cage.
Cleaning Your Cage Properly
Keeping your chastity cage clean is essential for both comfort and hygiene. After each use, wash the cage thoroughly with warm water and mild, unscented soap, especially if it’s made from stainless steel or plastic. Avoid soaps with harsh chemicals, as they can cause irritation when the cage is next worn. If your cage has intricate parts, use a soft brush to reach small crevices where bacteria can build up. Rinse thoroughly, and let the cage air dry before storing it in a clean, dry place.
With the right fit, gradual training, and proper safety measures, chastity cages can offer a rewarding and safe experience. Remember, safety comes first—take the time to understand your body’s responses, practice open communication with your partner, and always prioritize comfort.
#caged foot slave#sissy caged#caged chastity#locked in caged#cagedcock#cage de chasteté#caged clitty#caged again the series#caged and plugged#caged heat#caged bird#feetfinder#footgoddess#girlblogging#foot#footwear#bare foot#beta sissy#beta slave
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Isn't most sunscreen made with almost full natural ingredients anyways because we haven't been able to make anything better than the naturally protective extracts of plants
#prev tags i love you#prev tags ->#THATS WHAT IVE BEEN SAYING ABOUT ARTIFICIAL STUFF#i hate it when people say something came 'from nature'#bc like. fucking everything comes from nature?? do you think theyre just spontaneously creating matter in labs?#the elements they use to make things all come from nature. they didnt just type in a fucking cheatcode and spawn sunscreen#they used natural elements to create the chemicals which make up the sunscreen and then combined them according to a recipe#oh you dont want anything thats made of chemicals? fucking die then i guess bc EVERYTHING is made of chemicals#your 100% organic apples are made of chemicals. your free range non-gmo uwu eggs are made of chemicals#air is made of chemicals. water is made of chemicals. YOU ARE MADE OF CHEMICALS#acting like anything thats made in a lab is 'fake' is so stupid. this is exactly like the lab-grown gems debate#putting natural elements together in a lab does not make the resulting product any less 'real' than if they had been combined in nature#on the same note. altering a strand of dna in a lab does not make the resulting product anymore dangerous#than if it had been altered through years of natural selection (which has already happened to almost every fruit and vegetable you eat)#yeah theres shitty corporations out there doing shitty things but the act of altering something in a lab is not what makes it dangerous#CAPITALISM is what makes it dangerous. corporations lying about the effects of their product for more money is what makes it dangerous#and they would just as easily copyright and sell an ~all natural~ dangerous plant if they thought it would make them money#you dont think plants can be copyrighted? the main issue with gmos IS that a large corporation is copyrighting plants#not that they put something in there to give you spidey powers or w/e the fuck people think will happen#anyways. rant over
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So tumblr keeps on shadowbanning Siraj's accounts and he tries to remake of course, but right now, he is exhausted with how targeted these bans have started to feel. To be honest, Siraj is tired of a lot of things: the never ending atrocity, the hunger, the cold, and of course, he is tired of barely making any progress in the campaign at all. He wanted to make a post today but since he doesn’t have the energy to travel all the way to Deir-al Balah for an Internet connection, I am writing this on behalf of him. Please read through this if possible; these are Siraj Abudayeh's own words:
A perception gained through hearing is merely a poor reflection of the actual, be it about events concerning Gaza, Ramallah, Paris or USA.
It can't ever be enough even if you diligently follow the news. Or if you read every single article or watch every video that maybe available online. For there are things present in the air of Gaza- rotten and burnt smell, metallic smoke that sticks to the mouth and coats the nostrils, poison that is inhaled with every breathe and chemicals taken into the lungs- that no video can capture.
So of course there is a difference! It is a difference between reading the phrase, “I waited seven hours for a bottle of water,” and actually being parched and having to wait hours for some semi-polluted water. There is a difference between reading about Gazan children losing their childhoods, and actually having to see your son despairingly cry out “BREAD!” There is a difference between hearing about a torn tent, and actually having to live in it, that too if you were lucky to afford one.
There is always a difference between reading/hearing it and LIVING it. For all this, I want to say that the one who is only hearing about it does not have the right to draw up conclusions about the needs of the person living the nightmare. They have no right to either question his relentless pursuit for his cause, nor expect that he can be steadfast and not feel exhaustion. There is a difference between what we know and what others have the privilege of not knowing: there is a difference, there is a DIFFERENCE. The meaning is simple, there is always a difference.
In the last 2 days, we have seen some disturbing comments being made about the genocide going on in Gaza. I don't actually have anything to say regarding such banal behavior but I do request you to read what Gazans have to say. Ultimately Palestine will be free, with or without us, but I hope that when we chanted "Free Palestine", there was some truth to it.
( $10 CAD= $7.19 USD)
Vetting #219
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The knowledge of some common plants
Since many people don't know most of the plants around them, this is information on some plants that are commonly seen in many places throughout the world
This is Lamium purpureum, also called Purple Deadnettle.
It's called deadnettle because it looks like a nettle but it doesn't sting you
This plant is a winter annual—it grows its leaves in the fall, lasts through the winter, and blooms and dies in the spring
Its pollen is reddish orange. If you see bees with their heads stained reddish orange, it is likely because they have visited Purple Deadnettle
This is Trifolium repens, white clover
It is a legume (belongs to the bean family) and fixes nitrogen using symbiosis with bacteria that live in little nodules on its roots, fertilizing the soil
It is a good companion plant for the other members of a lawn or garden since it is tough, adaptable, and improves soil quality. According to my professor it used to be in lawn mixes, until chemical companies wanted to sell a new herbicide that would kill broadleaved plants and spare grass, and it was slandered as a weed :(
It is native only to Europe and Central Asia, but in the lawns they are doing more good than harm most places
Honeybees love to visit clover
Four-leaf clovers are said to be lucky
This is Achillea millefolium, Common Yarrow
It has had a relationship with humans since Neanderthals were around, at least 60,000 years, since Neanderthals have been found buried with Yarrow
Its leaves have been used to stop bleeding throughout history, and its scientific name comes from how Achilles was said to have used Yarrow to stop the blood from the wounds of his soldiers. A leaf rolled into a ball has been used to stop nosebleeds
It is a native species all throughout Eurasia and North America
This is Cichorium intybus, known as Chicory
The leaves look a lot like dandelion leaves, until in mid-spring when it begins growing a woody green stem straight up into the air
Like many other weeds, it has a symbiotic relationship with humans, existing in a mix of domesticated or partially domesticated and wild populations
It is native to Eurasia, but widespread in North America on roadsides and disturbed places, where it descended from cultivated plants
Its root contains large amounts of inulin, which is used as a sweetener and fiber supplement (if you look at the ingredients on the granola bars that have extra fiber, they usually are partly made of chicory root) and has also been used as a coffee substitute
A large variety of bees like to feed upon it
This is Phytolacca americana, known as Pokeweed
It is easily identified by its huge leaves and its waxy, bright magenta stem
It can grow more than nine feet tall from a sprout in a single summer!
If you squish the berries, the juice inside is a shocking magenta that is so bright it almost burns your eyes. For this reason many Native American people used it for pink and purple dye.
It is a heavy metal hyperaccumulator, particularly good for removing cadmium from the soil
All parts of the plant are poisonous and will make you very sick if you eat them, however if the leaves are picked when very young and boiled 3 times, changing out the water each time, they can be eaten, and this is a traditional food in the rural American Southeast, but I don't want to chance it
British people have introduced it as a pretty, exotic ornamental plant. I think that is very funny considering that here it is a weed associated with places where poor people live, but maybe they're right and I need to look closer to see the beauty.
If you see magenta stains in bird poop it is because they ate pokeweed berries- birds can safely eat the berries whereas humans cannot
This is Plantago lanceolata, Ribwort Plantain
It grows in heavily disturbed soils, in fact it is considered an indicator of agricultural activity. It is successful in the poorest, heaviest and most compacted soil.
The leaves, seeds, and flower heads are said to be edible but the leaves are really stringy unless they are very young. Of course, it is important to be careful when eating wild plants, and make sure you have identified the plant correctly and the soil is not contaminated
I have also heard the strings in the leaves can be extracted and used for textile purposes
and that's some common plants you might often see throughout the world
#just remembered i had this in my drafts#i forget why i didn't post it immediately#anyway#plants#the ways of the plants
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Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt. 5
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]
“So you’re that dead kid everyone’s talking about.”
Danny smacked a trash bag into the purple clad vigilante. “You can pick up the glass.”
“Wait, I’m just here to-”
“Bother me when I’m working? At least the litterer brings me cash. You can help clean or you can leave. Plastics go over there.”
Danny pointed at a pile of plastics, ignoring Spoiler’s bemused look. Hard to tell, really, considering her mask.
“I’ll help clean if you answer some questions!” Spoiler chirped, already moving to pick out the glass in the general trash pile Danny’s managed to gather. He nodded.
“Alright. At least you’re helping. The other one just bothers me and leaves his stuff on the beach.”
Spoiler snorted. “I’m Spoiler. Is the litterer Batman?”
“Sure. I don’t really care what his name is,” which was a complete lie, Danny was a fan. It’s just that messing with Batman (especially after he couldn’t clean up after himself, honestly!) overrode his fan behavior. “But if I catch him leaving shit in the waters again…”
Danny frowned, eyes glowing. He could feel- even with his partial tangibility, the muck of Gotham's waters seeping into his boots. It was not giving 'Live, Laugh, Love' to Danny, and he needed it gone.
“Whatever. They dropped a lot of guns down here. You can deal with those too, yeah?”
“I'm pretty sure that's evidence?!”
“If you could call it that.” Danny plucked away the Styrofoam and the hazardous (more than regular, anyways) materials away from the trash pile so Spoiler could dig through with her gloves without contracting sixteen different sorts of illnesses.
“So, what brings you to Gotham?”
Danny pointed at the water. “Came for school. Stayed because you losers polluted the water with dead bodies and gross chemicals.”
“You go to school?”
“Hey, that’s discriminatory.”
“Oops! No, sorry! I meant-”
Danny waved her off, irritably separating a bottle cap from the crushed bottle. Seriously, what’s the point of putting the cap back on if you were going to throw it in the bay anyways?
“It’s fine. How else am I supposed to learn about the advancements made in the scientific industry otherwise?”
Even if Danny wasn’t too sure that science could sure stupidity, but a halfa could dream, right?
"So... do you just... listen in on lectures?"
Danny stared at her. "What else would I do in a class??"
"Oh. I just thought since you're dead and all, you'd do something more... fun?"
"I mean, I could terrorize the local villains for kicks, if that's what you meant."
Spoiler brightened. "Actually, yeah! That would be helpful! If Mr. Freeze keeps bringing the cold during my latte Thursdays, I'm gonna snap and wring his cold little chicken neck."
Danny snorted. "Alright. I will keep an eye out for this Mr. Freeze." Danny paused. "Hey, tell your friend to come down and help us."
"What- oh. Black Bat!" Stephanie waved her partner down. Black Bat gracefully slipped down towards the bay, casually knocking out two goons gunning for Spoiler.
'Careful,' Black Bat signed.
"Thanks!" Spoiler bounced on the heels of her feet. She swept an arm out. "Wanna help?"
Black Bat tilted her head and, after placing Danny under quick but thorough scrutiny, nodded.
'You can get the salvageable stuff. Anything you can't lift, leave to me.' Danny signed clumsily, placing emphasis on can't.
"You know sign language?"
"I'm not too good at it, I just learned this version."
He knew ghost-sign first, after all.
"Chop, chop. I don't have all night."
----
Danny learned that Black Bat had the skill to knock cans into their designated piles if he threw them in the air so she could kick at them.
"You two can come back anytime."
Spoiler whooped while Black Bat leaned back, smug.
"Wait, tell the litterer he owes me $200. He was short last time."
"...Are you telling me Batman owes you money?"
"Yeah. He might be in financial straights, so I gave him some lee-way."
Black Bat and Spoiler looked at each other.
----
"Hey, so guess what I learned about sea boy!"
Bruce's head swiveled to her with startling intensity. The rest of the clan tuned in.
"He knows sign language! Maybe he even knows ancient sign language! And goes to school, but since he's like, dead, he could only listen to the lectures."
"Bruce, Bruce, do not start a ghost-education plan. Stop. We don't even know if he even-" Dick tackled Bruce, who was already writing a petition as Bruce Wayne to give partial credit to students that diligently goes to class.
"Oh, yeah!" Stephanie shouted over the unraveling chaos. "He promised to fuck with our Rogues for a bit so we can get a break! And we also got a bunch of guns!"
"Where? Gimme!" Jason demanded.
"Do not give Todd more firearms!" Damian cut in.
"Also!" Stephanie grinned as Cass shook with laughter. "Batman's a debtor! He owes Phantom $200!"
"Ain't no fucking way." Tim cackled. "Hear that Bruce? That's karma! For not defending me when he called me broke!"
#batman#danny phantom#stephanie brown#cassandra cain#bruce wayne#bruce has already adopted this kid#just not with paperwork#but that's a trivial matter for BatDad#he's also going to adopt both tucker and sam#dcxdp#sea cryptic! danny au
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I first became fascinated with it a few years ago when I noticed it out an airplane window on a flight from Texas to Southern California. In an expanse of endless desert, suddenly, a vast body of water. When I got home, I immediately looked it up on a map. The Salton Sea.
It’s the largest landlocked body of water in California. It sits right on top of the San Andreas Fault at over 200 feet below sea level. It is more than twice as salty as the Pacific Ocean. It is completely toxic. And I had never heard of it before then.
(photo essay under the cut)
In the early 1900s the Colorado River was diverted through a series of irrigation canals in order to provide water for the farmlands of Imperial Valley. One of the head-gates broke during a flood, and the desert basin filled with water for 2 years before it was fixed. The unexpected lake soon became a popular vacation destination; it was stocked with fish, and resorts and hotels popped up along its shores. It became known as a great place for sport fishing, waterskiing, and yacht parties. Big name celebrities visited. At one point, it had more annual visitors than Yosemite.
Salton Sea has no outlet, and is only filled via agricultural runoff. As the water evaporated in the hot desert sun, the lake became more and more saline. Chemicals began to build up from the run off causing toxic algae blooms, and mass die-offs of fish and birds started in the 80s. By the 90s, the beaches were littered with fish gills and bird bones and the resorts were abandoned. The lake began to dry up as irrigation run-off was diverted away. The exposed lake bed is also toxic, and the high desert winds kick up the dust, making the air poisonous.
Despite the unpleasant odor, the noxious air and the summer temperatures regularly reaching 120°, a renaissance of sorts began in the early 2010s. Artist and nomad colonies began to spring up around Salton Sea. Bombay Beach, once a popular resort destination, is now mostly a ghost town, but the folks who remain have turned the ruins on the shores into an outdoor art installation gallery where the found-art sculptures are cyclically destroyed by the elements and then replaced with new ones. Many of the houses and RVs in town are themselves art pieces.
In nearby Slab City, a settlement of off-the-grid lifestylers, you can find even more folk art. Salvation Mountain is a manmade hill painted with bright colors and bible verses and maintained by a community of volunteers. East Jesus is a sculpture garden and art installation.
This past weekend my partner and I finally made the pilgrimage to the Sea. California has the benefit of being home to a huge array of biomes. In just a couple of hours you can travel from snowy mountain peaks to lush oases to endless sand dunes. Driving the hour or so south from Palm Springs towards Salton Sea is like driving towards the end of the world.
Bombay Beach especially enamored me. The beach is crusted with salt and millions of tiny shells and bones. It smells awful, like sewage and chemicals and low-tide and rotting fish. You drive out onto the beach and park anywhere amongst the sculptures and deteriorating resort ruins. The art feels raw in a way I haven’t experienced before. It reminds me of seeing paleolithic cave art. Humans made this, with no motivation other than to create something intriguing or beautiful or sad. Not much can live out here, but what you find fills me with a great adoration for humanity. Despite the asphyxiation of the natural world, the human spirit persists.
#im sure most people know about this place but i didnt so!!#i hated writing essays in school but now in my 30s i do it for fun apparently#photos are all mine except the first one#salton sea#bombay beach#slab city#salvation mountain
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A bird what now? part 9
birdritch masterpost
"It will make him easy to keep an eye on,” Tim said.
Bruce sighed but gave a little nod. That was true. Even if this was nothing nefarious, they would have to keep an eye on Danny just to make sure that it wasn’t a reoccurring event. After all, with those running around like Clay Face, Man Bat, and Killer Croc there are plenty of people who had gotten turned into creatures and inhuman beings through: both their own fault and not. Bruce certainly hoped whatever was going on wasn’t the result of something being worked on at WE, but he would certainly have to meet with Lucius soon and double check that. It could always be something that Danny was working on in his own time or could have nothing to do with the company at all.
Gotham wasn’t exactly the safest place as far as chemicals in the water and air went. Though Bruce had been doing what he could through his own funds, initiatives at WE, and through his connections with the mayor. At least this mayor seemed like a good one (or as good as Gotham could hope for at the moment).
Progress could be slow, which was sometimes hard to accept.
“Put the bag on the table, Red Robin,” Bruce said with a little bit of a sigh in his words. Enter
“But B come on—” Tim started with a little furrow of his brow.
Bruce crouched down a little to meet Tim’s eyes. “I understand your inclination, Red Robin, you know I do. But we have enough information to look into this without invading what little privacy he has after waking up in the situation that he just did.”
“Oh,” Tim looked down at the bag and closed the flap over. “I guess I just… hadn’t thought about it like that.”
“I know, chum,” Bruce said. He squeezed Tim’s shoulder gently. “Go put the bag on the table for him and get yourself some coffee.”
“Coffee, coffee sounds amazing,” Tim said, mostly to himself, as he went to follow orders.
Bruce stuck his hands in the sweat pants he was wearing and trailed after Tim. He’d let his kids who needed the coffee go first, but he could really use some himself to deal with this morning. He stopped by Jason where the other was leaning against the meeting table and rubbing at the edges of his domino.
“Who thought Bat paranoia would pay off with us all putting these stupid things back on after showering,” Jason grumbled.
Bruce gave a soft ‘hm’.
“You got that good cream in stock? Cause this shit is going to itch wearing these all night.”
Bruce gave a little nod. “I’ll make sure you have a tub to take with you. Thank you for staying last night to watch over the family.”
“…yeah, sure old man.”
With a brief clasp to Jason’s shoulder, Bruce stepped up for his turn to get some coffee. Contrary to the easy jokes, Bruce didn’t enjoy his coffee dark and brooding like his soul and added a decent amount of cream to his cup.
“I don’t suppose that there’s enough in the pot for me?”
To his credit, Danny Fenton didn’t flinch as multiple white lensed gazes turned towards him. There was some water dripping off his hair, landing at his bare feet next to the too long sweatpants legs. Nightwing’s pants, Bruce’s mind supplied, just based on Fenton’s build. Though oddly the sweatshirt was definitely Bruce’s and absolutely swallowed Fenton.
Fenton reached up up and pulled the collar of the sweatshirt up over his freckled and scarred shoulder.
Scarred?
“Certainly,” Bruce said and reached for a mug. “Cream? Sugar?”
“A little of both, thank you,” Fenton said. He looked to his side as Cass came up to him and let her herd him to the table with a soft huff.
The rest of the Bats made their way there. Bruce set the mug down in front of Fenton and took the open seat to his left.
“What do you remember from last night.
Fenton took a long sip of his coffee before he spoke. “I left work about eight twenty.”
“That’s pretty late,” Tim interjected.
Fenton shrug and a gave half smile. “I have a habit of losing time, much to the annoyance of my boss. He’s who sent me home. I stopped and grabbed some food before I headed through Robinson park towards the station on the other side. Normally there’s no issue, but suddenly the vines were active and there was some sort of commotion off to my left.”
Bruce glanced towards Dick who gave a slight incline of his head. The commotion must have been them.
“My phone was dead— s’why I didn’t get my alarm to leave work, so I couldn’t check out if it was anything major,” Fenton continued. “I tried to back up and get out of the park but I was pretty surrounded. I wouldn’t have been too worried, but there was this flower, big and bold red. It popped and that’s the last clear thing I remember. After that it’s just… panic? I remember the flower was bad, my lungs felt like they were burning. I had to protect someone? Someones? And then there was a level of comfort. Then I woke up here.” Fenton’s hands hand tightened around his mug as he talked until he had a white knuckled clutch on it. “I’m hoping you all can fill in a few pieces.”
“Some,” Dick said. He leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. “Red Hood, Red Robin, and myself, Nightwing, were dealing with some criminals who were trying to bury a body in the park.”
“Really?” Fenton said incredulously. “Why did they think Posion Ivy would be okay with anyone digging in her park? Like sure, technically fertilizer, but really?”
“Right?” Dick agreed with a smile. “She was pretty unhappy. I’m assuming that’s what made the vines agitated. Sorry about that.”
Fenton gave a little shrug. “Not like you all were trying to bury a body. At least not this time?”
Jason barked out a laugh at that that Bruce’s look didn’t quell at all. He just flicked Bruce off.
“Nope,” Dick continued, undeterred, “we just stopped then and then were trying to calm Pamela— Ivy down. That’s when you showed up, except you weren’t exactly… you.”
With excellent timing as always, Tim pulled up a still from his camera onto the monitor of the bird entity. Fenton paled to an alarming degree.
“What?” he croaked.
“This bird creature— you— crashed onto the scene,” Dick said as Tim let the video play. “Don’t worry, you were nonviolent. Well, at least not to anything other than Ivy’s plants.”
On screen Fenton’s bird form was wailing on a carnivorous flower as he pulled Nightwing to safety.
“Oh Ancients,” Fenton said and buried his face in his shaking hands.
“Mostly you just collected us. Cuddle pollen causes people to need living warmth and it was obvious that you were dosed as your feathers were covered in it, which then affected all of us also.”
“Most of us. I’m smart enough to wear a fucking mask,” Jason said.
“I always thought that was smart,” Fenton said weakly as he pulled his gaze back up to the screen. “I really didn’t hurt anyone?”
“Only Robin’s pride,” Tim chirped.
Damian growled back.
“Okay. Okay that’s… that’s good. I, um… yeah, that’s new. The bird thing. That’s new,” Fenton said as he watched the video play out until Red Robin’s camera was obscured by feathers.
Bruce reached out to rest his hand across Fenton’s shoulder blades, tapping out a rhythm for him to breathe to.
Fenton sent him a shaky smile.
“Unsure about what you were, but knowing you had been affected by cuddle pollen and were… collecting my children, bringing you back to the cave seemed the best action,” Bruce explained. “As most of us were affected, it was easiest to stay close. It was unexpected to wake up to you being human.”
“Yeah, yeah I bet,” Fenton agreed. His gazed was glued to the screen again, the new now from Black Bat’s camera. “I wouldn’t have expected it either. That’s… yeah. That’s new.”
Bruce caught Cass’s attention and got a subtle assurance back. Fenton didn’t know why he had become a bird either. At least that decreased the chance of the man having been experimenting on himself.
“Do you work with chemicals at work?” Bruce asked. He would of course find this out from Lucius, but Fenton shouldn’t suspect that.
Fenton blinked at him. “What? Oh, no. Basic things, solder and acetone and the such. Nothing that should have any wild effects.” He hesitated then, chewing on his lips as his eyes flicked from Bruce to the screen where he was currently snagging Black Bat with one of the many legs. “But I was exposed to a lot of weird stuff as a kid. My parents had… poor lab safety and I really didn’t know any better. I guess that something in the flowers… reacted really badly? If there was some other triggers or something around in the air. That’s all I can think, but it had to be one hell of an environmental cocktail and not one I want to repeat.”
Bruce could believe Fenton’s aversion with the way he trembled under Bruce’s hand.
-
“You’ll be alright.” Danny wasn’t sure if that was a question or a statement, so he nodded and put on the best smile he could at the moment. “Well, I’m currently not a giant bird entity so I think so.”
They were tucked away in an alley close enough to home that Danny could walk it. The attempt at privacy didn’t make it any less weird to be standing there in borrowed clothing and talking to Batman who sat atop an intimidating looking motorcycle. Danny hoped it was still hellishly early enough to avoid most of the scrutiny of his neighbors.
Batman went still for a moment in a way that had Danny tilting his head before the man reached into his utility belt and handed over a black keyfob of some sort.
“It’s an emergency beacon. Twist it one-eighty and press the button for three seconds and we will have your location. If you’re exposed to something odd or fear you might shift, use it.”
“In case I’m a danger?”
“In case you need help, including if you’re irrational and need a safe space to calm down.”
Danny chewed on his lip for a moment before he held out his hand. He tried to ignore the tremor in it, even if the shaking was blatantly obvious. Batman set the fob in his hand with surprising gentleness.
“Use it if you need it.”
“Okay.” Danny took a step back. “Thanks for the ride back, even if I had to be blindfolded for it.”
“Precautions.”
Danny just shrugged. “You have a family to protect, I get it. Keep them safe.”
Batman gave a little nod and Danny took that as his chance to head out of the alleyway and quickly down the street to his apartment. He needed food and to call Sam.
No, he needed to push up that visit to see Frostbite.
---
AN: Can't believe there's 3 chapters of this silliness now. Didn't expect to get this far, but really needed something with no stress to write after the morning I had. Doing my best to hang in there. Stay delightful, darlings.
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DC X DP Fanfic idea: It's all Fun and Games Kids!
Danny Fenton moves to Gotham.
He moved there not because his parents ran him out of the house. His dad was bawling and begging him to stay while his mother spent three full days writing up different graphs to show how much safer was by nearing by so they could protect him.
(It's not like he still lived with them. Danny had moved out to his own place in amity when he was twenty-five. Moving clear across state lines wasn't much of a difference in his eyes)
He moved there, not because the ectoplasm was high. Ectoplasm is everywhere on Earth, and quite frankly, Gotham's was as polluted as its water was. It made the air spicy.
He moved there not because he was offered an amazing job or a life-changing opportunity. Danny's full-time job was writing novels. They were all based on his adventures in the Ghost Zone -with changed names of course- and were a hit online. He also had all of the Ghost King's gold.
He moved there simply because Danny wanted to.
Something about the city called to him, in a way that said "Hey this could be your home." He visited once for a Humpty Dumpty concert and fell in love with the sights, the people, and the life of Gotham.
Now some people would accuse him of being mad. Those people probably had a rebellious teenage stage where they had done crazy things like sneak out of the house, underage drink, sleeping around, or smoke something.
Danny, when he was a teenager, was fighting for his life and the lives of the ungrateful townspeople.
He didn't get to his rebellious stage. He didn't get his rush of doing something stupid because he was young and thought himself bigger than life.
So here Danny is, living his life as he pleases to make up for it.
He doesn't have to sneak out of his house since he owns it, he rather not drink or smoke (would they even affect him? His healing factor has never been tested against it) and Danny would like to be emotionally attached if he decided to sleep with someone.
What then does a man with too much time, too much power, and not enough bad young person decisions do?
He flirts with Death.
Death just so happens to be Batman-shaped.
Now it's all fun and games. He knows he doesn't have a real chance with Batman- it's Batman. Way out of Danny's league.- but that doesn't mean he can allow himself to fall into stupid situations and be dramatically rescued by the crime fighter.
Now if only his kids weren't so good at their jobs.
"You really should be more careful, Mr. Fenton. This is the third time this week" Nightwing says while untieing him. Danny does his best not to pout at the other. He had been having fun finding the answers to the riddles.
He wasn't at all worried about the fact he was placed over a pool of burning chemicals. He had been tried to a chair that was carefully balanced on overlapping ropes. It wire would snap with each correct answer, until he would fall his demise unless they could outsmart the Riddler.
Danny had gotten five out of ten correct before Nightwing burst through the ceiling.
"I don't mind," Danny says rubbing his wrists. "Better me than someone innocent."
Nightwing's lips purse "You are innocent."
"Yes, but I hardly matter in the grand scheme of things." Danny waves his hand missing the look of distress on the hero's face. He looks around the darkness of the ceiling hoping to spot a certain crouching figure.
"Is Tall Dark and Daddy here with you?" He asks Nightwing when he fails to see him.
"Please don't call him that."
Danny shrugs, suppressing his smile. He twirls back around to Nightwing pulling out a piece of paper from his jean's pocket. "By the way, I found the other victims, hid them in the cellar, and drew a of map of Riddle's bombs for you. You're welcome."
Nightwing stares before carefully taking the map. He taps his ear twice, muttering in a code- for that may be English but sounded like gibberish that it can not be anything else but code- and only after he hears a voice respond back does the hero give a strained smile. "Thank you, Mr. Fenton. This helps a lot."
"You're welcome!" He repeats with a bright smile. It's so odd for his efforts to be appreciated. Odd but nice.
Danny waits for the other to do his Bat-trained disappearing act- sometimes he wonders if Gotham gave her Knights a form of invisibility- but the man remains.
He shuffles his feet uncomfortable and Danny's eyes light up. Oh! Another attempt to get him to stop flirting with his father. What fun~!
"Mr. Fenton.....last week Red Robin rescued you from the Joker. Do you remember?"
"Yes. Red Robin is a great kid."
"A kid....weird for you to call him that when he's only a few years younger than you." Nightwing starts but Danny holds up a hand.
"I'm older than you"
There is a tight frown on the other man's face now. "You are not."
"I am." Danny pulls out his wallet flashing his ID card. The downside to his Ghostly powers is that he seems to be aging at a slower rate- at least physically. His parents theorized that he would take two years instead of the one that his aging required. Not an accurate number but the closest they had especially since both his parents were late bloomers and had baby face.
While Danny might be thirty-eight he appeared to be no older than nineteen.
"Mr. Fenton I don't think you should be carrying a fake-"
"Stay away from my father Harlot!" Robin screeches falling down from the shadows above. He points a very sharp sword at Danny's neck, sneering the whole time. "He has better things to do than rescue a love-struck worthless fool!"
Danny, leans on the top of the sword, eyes drinking into Robin's slight flinch when it cuts his skin a little. This is it. The Rush he had been craving for.
"I don't mean to be kidnapped Robin honest. It just sort of happens in Gotham." He makes his voice and body innocent in a way even Orphan can not tell he is lying. He knows because Clockwork confirmed the last time they met that the girl read his body language just as he wanted her to.
The two ghosts met up regularly to watch his overly "sweet" eyes fluttering and cheerful "Oh Batman you rescued me~!" performances together for a good laugh.
"You lie! You plan for this to happen to try and seduce my Father!"
Huh. The kid was smarter then his foul mouth and snobby behavior looked. Still Danny only had to twist his face into confusion for Nightwing to step in. The other vigilantes pulled the scowling child away, scolding him for harassing frightened civilians.
It was fun to see but nothing beat making polite come-ons to Batman- nothing gross like catcalling but more of overly thankful and dreamy sighs. Maybe he should see what Two-face is up to?
Surely the man would take him hostage and Batman's many children would be too busy to save him thus leading the Dark Knight himself to come to his aid.
Or in a world where Danny Fenton decides that it would be hilarious if he took on a Brucie Wayne persona in Gotham. Complete with a Heart-eyes-it's-beefy-Batman mentality that tricks the Batfam into thinking he is a Himbo who has bad luck for always getting caught up in villain schemes for being at the wrong place and wrong time.
Also, the Bat kids make it their life goal to keep Bruce from rescuing Danny since they do not like watching Fenton flirt with their dad. Even if Bruce himself ignores the boy they can't really threaten him.
Danny Fenton isn't being malicious or anything. He's just a boy with a crush who doesn't know better.
Clockwork is cackling, recording his favorite parts of Danny's interactions with the Bats.
#dcxdpdabbles#dc x dp crossover#It's all fun and games kids!#spirit halloween#The Batkids are stressed#Danny pretending to be a Himbo#Like Brucie but only towards Batman#Danny looks young as hell#Bruce is ignoring him for now#Slow burn???#Maybe???
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beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful girl
leah williamson x reader, jordan nobbs x reader (wobbs as coparents)
reconciliation … the final part in this series x
2 months later:
“My name is y/n Williamson-Nobbs, and I am an addict.”
There are things you appreciate nowadays, more then you did before. Fresh air, the flowers blooming in spring, a strong coffee, smiles from strangers, a warm bed, hugs, being told you are enough, a classic movie, the sun, fruit, water, being clean.
“I didn’t ever take drugs to hurt anybody, or hurt anybody knowingly. I didn’t take drugs to have fun, or party, I didn’t get addicted because I liked it.”
You like taking your dog on walks, going and getting your hair done, floating in the ocean, lying in grass, being sober.
“I took drugs because it made me feel whole. I’ve never felt whole in my entire life, everyday in my life I’ve used something to patch that hole up, during my childhood I tried to fix every single problem, I fixed myself by fixing everybody else in my life, my mom, my non existent dad. As I got older it changed, I seeked validation to patch the hole, it was healthy, but I think I’ve always been an addict and I always will be. I’ve been addicted to filling that hole, it was disguised as being healthy for most of my life until I switched the validation for drugs.”
You don’t avoid peoples eye contact as you walk along the street anymore, you don’t avoid your moms, you don’t lie to people anymore, you don’t put yourself in danger.
“It started with nicotine, because my mom enabled it. I think she was more scared for me then anything. I was spiralling, who wouldn’t be in this day and age? I mean any parent of a teen must be terrified in this day and age, I know I would be. The nicotine was good, but then I got introduced to weed, and it felt like every problem I’ve ever had was fixed.”
You talk about your feelings now, you identify every single thing that you feel and you talk about it with as much detail as your moms and therapist want to hear. You don’t study the different chemicals entering your body every time you shoot up anymore, you study the intricacy and meaning of what you are going through. You take medicine for your depression and anxiety, not drugs for your hopelessness.
“They say weed is the pipeline drug, it’s true. After weed, I felt on top of the world and there was no stopping me. Molly, LSD, coke, heroin, benzos, fentanyl, ketamine, oxy, speed, and eventually meth, which I now know to be the worst of all of them. I didn’t know it at the time, there wasn’t anybody in my life, or in the life I’d created forn myself that was willing to tell me how dangerous what I was doing was.”
Jordan moved back in, whilst you were in rehab. It had been two weeks, that’s what you agreed to. It was the worst two weeks of your life without any doubt. But when you were picked up, both your moms were there, both of them were there for you. They both took time off, time off to take you away, across to France for a week.
“Meth will always be the thing that destroyed my life. My parents don’t trust me anymore, I get why. I lashed out, I became devoid of everything, I was convinced that everybody hated me, and that I was the cause of everybody’s pain, including my own. I convinced myself that the people who loved me the very most didn’t, and that I was the bomb that had torn all of my relationships in my life apart. I was a kid though, I still am, and I’m trying to be better.”
The trust was a hard thing. Your therapist saw Leah and Jordan twice a week, and that was when they would discuss the things that they could start reintroducing you to. School was a no, for now. You were yet to be permitted to stay at the house, alone, for longer then an hour, so every training session, gym session, appointment, media duty, catch up with friends, you were dragged to. It had been tough in the beginning, but you understood, trust had to be earnt. Every week there was something to look forward to, Jordan had been teaching you to drive after you’d gotten out of rehab, and as of a week ago you were permitted to drive yourself to and from your NA meetings.
“Meth made me feel like I was on top of the world, even though i was at my rock bottom. I had bad friends, I fell into a bad group of people, people who took advantage of the fact that I was so vulnerable and hurt. I’ll never forgive them for that, I’ll never be able to forgive them for taking advantage of a girl nearly ten years younger then them. They were hurting too, but that doesn’t excuse manipulating another person. They hurt me, they enabled me, they assaulted me, they took things from me that I’ll never get back.”
The first thing your mothers had wanted when after you’d come clean to them about everything was for you to get a rape kit. You’d outright refused, you were protecting the people, you didn’t want to relive what had happened to you but also a part of you didn’t want Matt and Maya to go down, even if you could now recognise that they’d done unforgivable things to you. Eventually, you agreed to it. You were glad you did, Matt had passed on chlamydia to you, which you thought was some kind of sick joke, that even after he’d deserted you there was still parts of him that were hurting you from the insides. Karma came in the form of a sexual assault report, one which had the policemen heading to his home to arresst him, only to finds thousands of dollars worth of illicit substances.
“I’m not proud of what I did to get a fix, I don’t think any recovering addict is. A couple of months ago I would have ruined every single relationship I had with all of the people I loved just to get a hit of what I was craving, and nowadays I would probably do the same, but I don’t need to. Meth was the love of my life, I think it always will be, or maybe the craving for something to fill me up is what I crave, I don’t really know, I’m still working everyday to try and figure that out.”
Sometimes, as you drove home at night, around every corner towards the house, you considered taking a stop at a side street, one that you knew a dealer would be sitting on. Somedays, you considered driving the car off of the highway and into a tree. Somedays, you considered taking a blade to your throat so you didn’t have to do rehab. Somedays though, you felt so incredibly blessed to be alive. Sometimes, you would sit outside, in the sun and just feel, allow yourself to feel everything that you’d always pushed down out of fear that you’d be deserted if you let any true emotion show.
“We’re all human, we all have the same dignity, no matter who we are. I made some stupid choices, choices that I won’t ever be able to reckon with, choices that for the rest of my life will haunt me. Don’t we all though? Don’t we all lie awake at night worrying about the things that we’ve done, that are out of our control now?”
You’d come to not fear desertion, the people who you’d hated most in the world but also loved most in the world had deserted you. Your parents had deserted you, you closest friends, people you would have considered your found family, deserted you. It was something you had no control over, something that you would never have control over and focusing all of your energy on trying to fix that had become something that you’d give up on.
“I’m not perfect, I never have been, I never will be. I can guarantee though that nobody in this room feels like they are perfect. We’re all hurt people, everybody has something that they keep hidden from people because they are scared that somehow it is going to make people see them differently. I’m guilty of it, my whole life i’ve been hiding, I still am. I’m not ashamed to admit that coming here every night terrifies me, that somebody I’ve known at some stage of my life will walk through the same doors I do and I’ll be put face to face with that, but it’s life. We all make our own mistakes, we all pave our own ways.”
Leah and Jordan still fought, you were secretly glad. It was clear that everything between them was done, which you hated to be happy about, You weren’t ready for that to be back to normal, you weren’t ready to feel like you were able to go back to the way life was when they were together. Lia mediated them, she balanced everything out and the two of you had managed to build a relationship. She was like the older sister you’d never had and you were happier to have her around knowing that she was happy to support you in the same way your moms would, even if she wasn’t living in the same house as you all anymore.
“I will never be able to properly apologise for how I acted, I’ll never be able to repay the people that found me at my lowest and still showed uo for me. I owe my life to those people, and I will spend every single day of my life being so thankful for the opportunity they have given me to have a second chance.”
Life was better, everything was better, you were recovering, you were learning. You felt more connected and loved by the people around you in your whole life. You didn’t feel like you had to seek out love anymore, you didn’t feel like you had to do something to earn it. Leah spent every minute of everyday doing small things to make you feel loved, dragging you out of the house to get coffee with her, reading with you every night before bed, sitting through you when the cravings were making your day harder, driving you to the beach when you felt like you needed fresh air, dragging you to physio appointments so you could hang out with your aunties, buying you fresh flowers to put in your room to make the dark memories of it a little bit nicer, helping you redecorate the space, letting you sleep in her bed when the tendencies started to burn all over your skin.
“I have a disease, I have a terminal illness that will forever impair my ability to live life normally. I will forever be attached to my past, and that’s really tough, I won’t ever be cured of my past, I won’t ever be able to say that I am free of my addiction, I will forever be tied to my decisions.”
Your therapist was helping you weed out all the bad, helping you to identify the different patterns of self destructive behaviour that you chose, helping you to make better decisions for yourself, decisions that didn’t end in you destroying everything you’d worked for.
“I’m an addict, we all are, we all know what it feels like to be plagued with our past. We all get up here every week and speak about our demons, because we all get it. We get what it feels like to lose everything, we all understand the terror that crosses over a persons face when you overdose, or tell them that you’re using, or when they wake up across from your hospital bed. We’re all going through our own shit, we’re all struggling everyday. I struggle everyday, because I’m an addict, for the rest of my life I will struggle because I’m an addict, but there isn’t anybody who understands me better than all of you. I’ve been sober for two months, there have been relapses, there have been struggles, there has been pain and so much for me to be ashamed of. There has been so many positives though, there has been so much good, so much happiness, so many good moments. I don’t believe that everything happens for a reason, there is too much bad in this world for me to believe in that, but I do believe that this experience has made me a better person, it’s made me stronger, its made me more resilient. The past two months have been some of the best parts of my life, and i intend for the rest of my life to be the same. This chip means a lot to me, but it’s the progress that makes all of this better, knowing that I’ve left parts of me behind that will now stay behind me forever.”
You looked down at the chip in your hands, the little bronzey coin that was so small but felt like it was bigger then the world to you. You smiled at the group of people around you, nodding your head once again before walking towards you sponsor and giving them a hug. It felt good, like a big weight had been lifted from your shoulders. You’d never spoken much in meetings, you were more than happy to hear other peoples stories, but tonight had been special to you. You’d thought about what you were going to say, much of it being what you’d talked about with your moms earlier in the week during family therapy. It had been hard, talking to your moms so openly about how you felt, but it was something you were becoming better at as the days passed.
You stayed around for the coffee and biscuits, talking with the people that you’d grown close to over the past month and a half in the mildewy church which smelt a little bit too similar to your great grandmothers living room.
You stuck around until the first few people started to trail out, before you made the decision it was time to get home. You said your goodbyes, farewelling your friends before dismissing yourself and making the walk out to the carpark, towards Leah’s car.
Driving had become your one piece of real freedom, it was the only time where you got to think to yourself. A couple of months ago, you would have found solace in continuous loneliness, you would have sat in the car for hours and been happy. Now though, you found yourself navigating your way back home as fast as possible, whilst still abiding by road rules.
The gravel driveway underneath the wheels of a car used to make you nervous, if anything it now made you feel anticipation.
You jumped from the car with a hop in your step, the bronze chip still clutched in your palm, the metal now warm against your skin after the acclimation of the metal to your body temperature.
You used your key to enter the door, smiling at the warmth and scent that you were met with as you untied your shoes and left them by the front door.
Leah was waiting for you in the kitchen, she always was, every night you decided to go to a meeting. You knew that she still worried, that she spent nights awake worrying about you. You’d lost count of how many times on the nights you spent in your own bed how often she’d come to check to make sure you were still lying there. She probably always would worry, you wouldn’t blame her if she did, you’d put her through a lot.
She brought you into a hug, the same hug as every night, it always lasted for a little bit too long, but you never brought it up.
She would hug you tighter every single time, it was clockwork.
“Lia’s come over for dinner, she’s cooked spaghetti for everybody, but she made bangers and mash for you special, no pasta.”
You smiled at your mom, letting her press a chaste kiss to your forehead before you followed her into the dining room, where dinner was already plated up and Jordan and Lia were already seated at the table.
Jordan sent a smile your way as you sat down, things were still rocky between the two of you, it was never going to be perfect, it was never going to be as good as before, but you were both doing the work to heal bits of it and that was what mattered.
“Hey bubba, how was your meeting?”
Most nights you answered the same, with something simple.
“Good, I got this today.”
You pushed the chip onto the table, pulling your phone out of your pocket so you didn’t have to witness their raw reactions.
“Bubba, we’ve talked about this, no phones at the table.”
You frowned, pushing your phone back into your trackpant pocket, and looking up at your moms.
“This is awesome bubba, we’re both so proud of you.”
Jordan had picked up the coin, looking at it with glazed eyes.
There had been a lot of that since you’d come out of rehab, a lot of crying, a lot more than you were comfortable with.
“I want you to keep it.”
Jordan looked up at you, mildly confused.
“Bubba, it’s your token, your progress, your hardwork, you should keep it.”
You shook your head.
“Mom has my one month one, I want you to keep this one. I’m doing it for you two, I’m trying to be better for you two, and I want you to know that I’m committed to it and that without you guys I wouldn’t be able to do this.”
You could see tears pooling in Leah’s eyes from the other side of the table, jordan’s own ones beginning to drip down her face.
“Anyways, it’s not big deal, let’s have dinner, I’m sure whatever Lia cooked up is better than anything you and mom could have managed.”
You tried to pass it off with some lighthearted humour, but based off of the tears on your parents face, it wasn’t doing much.
Jordan and Leah both reached over, taking a hand in each of yours.
“You know that no matter what happens, no matter where you go, who you become, what you do, how you live your life, you will always be our beautiful girl.”
#woso#woso community#sammykworshipper thoughts#leah williamson#arsenal wfc#leah williamson x reader#leah williamson is mom#leah makes me cry#leah williamson fic#jordan and leah#leah williamson imagine#jordan nobbs x reader#jordan nobbs#woso imagine#woso fanfics#woso appreciation#sammykworshipperfics
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Omg please more Bimbo!reader x Mafia!Konig!!! I AM FERAL FOR IT! Your writing is so good! Can you maybe do some fluff with them! If not it’s totally fine! Thank you so so so much!<3
Konig smiles tiredly as you dance around in your bikini, showing it off to him. He doesn't understand how two tiny pieces of fabric and some jewels joining them could cost this much, but he will buy anything for his princess - as long as it means she will be happy and content with him. Throwing money at the problem is the only way he knows - either this or shooting the problem, which is clearly not an option here. He just tilts his head to the side as you laugh and ask for more pina coladas - it's a good thing he hired a new bartender for this property. The last one made the mistake of trying to get the lady of the house something cheap and artificial - you were still drinking it like a part girl you are, but Konig prefers you spend his money on something good. Something shiny and expensive - like a golden necklace with little diamonds incrusted into some magic ornament. He had a rough week - a rough month, most likely, with the new, almost uncorrupted politician rising in Vienna and promising to get the criminals away from the city. It was a problem he was solving currently - getting the secretaries, getting the bodyguards, surrounding the new guy with old ones, trying to get back into the warm underbelly. Konig just needs a bit of a pick-him-up, someone who won't be questioning his every move. Someone who has no idea how hard his work is. He slaps your butt as you stroll around, and you giggle. A godlike image - you lean down to him and ask if it would be too weird if you get on his lap and make out with him. You're a bit shy in the open air, a bit self-conscious about the servants he has running around - but he grabs you by your hip and pulls you down. You smell like expensive perfume and a bit of a water-cleaning chemical from the pool, and you laugh when he kisses you. You don't ask him about the gang wars, about drugs - you don't even take those unless he gives you something fun and non-dangerous, and your latest concerns include a new dress and a massage that you wanted to try on him because you saw it on insta. Konig loves you because he can finger you on the little pool seat while you squirm and moan while his other hand is busy texting his crooks on what to do with the most recent secretary the new politician got. Poor guy is going to get tortured for information and killed in the best-case scenario, but Konig doesn't feel remotely bad. He has his pretty wife meowing and moaning on his lap as he buries two of his large fingers into her cunt, and he has the informant on his phone. Life is good.
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basic ass witch tips 🔮
[revised post from ~2018 & last edited on 9.29.24]
please note that these are all related to things i have actually seen discussed or mentioned. please do your research before blindly following the advice of someone online, myself included.
if you're on some kind of medication, including but not limited to hormonal birth control, heart medication, and anti-depressants, double check with your healthcare professional/provider [HCP] before you drink that new tea you just bought.
always, always, always tell your HCP before trying any kind of herbal supplement, whether it’s something you made yourself or something you bought at the store.
have a diagnosed medical condition? talk to your HCP before ingesting anything or putting anything on your body that you aren’t familiar with.
don’t. drink. essential. oils. essential oils are not consumable!!!!!
citrus oils can cause photosensitivity, or being sensitive to light and more susceptible to sunburns so be mindful when using these oils on your skin.
if it hasn't been emphasized enough, PLEASE dilute your essential oils before use! common carrier oils are grapeseed, castor, olive, coconut, avocado, almond, etc.
oil and water don't mix, so you would need to use an alcohol based solution with essential oils to dilute them that way (if you plan to use them for a spray or something of that nature).
be mindful of using sprays, incense, powders, etc. that could release particulates into the air around pets or those who have allergies, respiratory issues, etc.
don't involve your pets in your practice in a way that could be harmful to them - no essential oils on them, no crystals in their water bowl, no moon water that's been sitting on your shelf for weeks.
i beg you, please don't put crystals in any uh bodily orifices.
there are some herbs you absolutely cannot burn (or use safely, really) for any reason, so make sure you're educated on all that beforehand; yew, for example, is highly toxic and potentially fatal if consumed or inhaled. the leaves, bark, and seeds contains a chemical called taxine, which is what some of the most hardcore chemotherapies are made from so keep that in the back of your mind.
that being said, please wear gloves and use common sense if you decide to forage for your own herbs or plants. i know that plant identifying apps exist so if you have a smartphone, that might be a good place to start.
putting salt on grass does a couple of things: salt removes moisture from the soil, thus drying out the grass and killing it; and, salt causes chloride to build up in the soil, thus making it toxic which inhibits chlorophyll production, leading the grass to eventually "starve" and die - please don't do this.
don't leave candles unattended - even small ones; it's not a good habit to get into.
also!! crystal balls in direct sunlight can cause a fire so be careful!
more fire stuff - be mindful of the environment and also safety so check for burn bans before you make a fire outdoors.
sterile lancets, not needles or pins. that's all i'm gonna say about that.
don't drink water you collected from anywhere outside unless you plan to properly filter it first.
if you plan to store water for later use (moon water, for example), refrigerate it or set it in a cool, dark place.
distilled water is free of minerals and contaminants so it has a longer shelf life than tap or bottled water - keep this in mind when making charged waters or other potion type things.
fresh herbs or other things of that nature left at room temperature can also grow super harmful bacteria. for example, putting raw garlic in olive oil and leaving it at room temperature will end as a breeding ground for botulism and mold.
be safe out there!
© 2024 𝚊𝚍-𝚌𝚊𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚊
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Flooded Red (pt.2) 🩸🌧️
get ready for some ANGST babes
Ship: Logan Howlett x Mutant!Fem!Reader 🩸
Rating: 16+
Wordcount: 2.3k
Warnings: torture, experimentation, gore, violence, cursing, electrocuting, drugging, mind control, medical equipment, implied child endangerment, ANGST
Series: Flooded Red
Groggy. You felt groggy. Tendrils of fog clouded around the edges of your mind. Swirling amongst the slow thoughts that had gathered, blurring words and images. Flashes of red, hot blood and bright lights shot through your dazed mind. A dull ache gathered at the base of your skull.
The next thing that registered was the biting cold of the metal table beneath you. Chills shook along your sore spine. You tried to adjust your cramped muscles, tried to stretch out your stiff joints.
But you couldn’t.
Your hands were fully encompassed in metal spheres. Thick iron wrapped around your wrists and encasing your fingers. You pulled at the restraints, desperation leaking into your veins. Rough metal chafed along the skin at your wrists. Rubbing and scratching and leaving the flesh raw.
Panic gripped at your racing heart. Your eyes flew open to gauge your situation. All you could see was black. Like someone had left the lights off in the middle of the night. Your gaze darted around in the darkness. Searching for something, anything.
You couldn’t breathe. Terror spilled into the edges of your mind like ink in water. Sharp talons raked through any coherent thoughts still bouncing around in your head. Primal fear choked you. You pulled and squirmed, a wild animal struggling to be free.
Latex gloves smoothed down your bare arm. The powdered rubber pulled at your skin as thin fingers prodded at the inside of your elbow. Like five daggers stabbing into you and spurring on the feral beast clawing at your throat.
Your consciousness slipped beneath the appalling gloves, mind tracing along the miniscule veins running under twitching skin. You followed the veins through this attacker’s arm. The pointed taste of norepinephrine and acetylcholine coated your tongue. This person was focused, relaxed.
You zeroed-in on the flow of acetylcholine through this person’s veins. Tracing the chemical back to its source. The hypothalamus. That small, ever important part in the center of one’s brain. The main coordinator of the nervous system and bodily cravings.
Like squishing a grape between your fingers, you crushed this person’s hypothalamus with a single thought. You could taste fresh blood leaking into the air, the coppery scent filling your sinuses and satiating the gnawing dread in your gut. The gloves running along your skin disappeared.
Pride licked up your throat, satisfaction seeping into your pores at the absence of latex on your skin.
Torturous electric pulses zipped along your skin. Shocks emanating from the metal table below you and the iron clasped on your hands. Excruciating lightning coursed through your body and made your back arch. Your arms tugged at their restraints, legs scrambling for leverage, head shaking back and forth.
As instantaneous as the shocks had started, the pain ceased. Gulping breaths filled your strained lungs. Sparks of the remaining electricity under your skin made you wince.
“Let’s not kill the techs, shall we? Each corpse garners a mountain of paperwork and a devastated family.”
Your unseeing eyes searched in the void for the source of the voice. It sounded familiar, masculine. A slight southern drawl laced in each word.
“There we are. Calmed down?”
Recognition hit you in the chest like a freight train. Your lips curled, a feral snarl seeping through your bared teeth.
“You,” you growled, malice and pure hatred filled your mind like sand in an hourglass. This man attacked your home. Hurt your kids. Threatened your Logan. Anger like you had never known washed over you like a raging inferno.
“Yes, me. Now that we are familiar, are we in agreement?” he asked. His voice was loud, projected, crackling. Like it came from a large speaker somewhere to your right.
“Fuck you,” you hissed. You tugged furiously at your restraints. Bestial rage burned away at all cognition. Flames scorched your mind and sent you into a fucking frenzy. Your teeth gnashed, chest heaved, muscles tightened.
“And here I was, thinking you’d be more cordial than the Wolverine. No matter. Nothing a little behavioral management won’t solve.”
Your body jolted as electricity streaked through your bones. You cried out, jaw clenching and fists tightening in their iron coffins.
This round of electrocution was blessedly short. You heaved, stomach lurching and heart thumping rapidly behind your ribcage, when the shocks had stopped.
“Are. We. In. Agreement?” the man asked again, annunciating every word. You panted, skin glistening in sweat, throat constricting and nearly choking you. The man sighed, “Bleeder, I’ll need an answer. Will you kill any more of my employees?”
You snarled at your old moniker, then thunked your head down on the table in defeat, “No.”
“Good. Now, since that’s settled, I’m going to have Maria draw your blood. Do your best to refrain from killing her. She has two sons at home.”
Powdered latex rubbed at your elbow again. You gritted your teeth, molars grinding against one another, as you tried to restrain the whirling rage inside you. Shaking fingers felt along your skin. Pressing deep into the flesh now and then, looking for that prominent vein that ran through the crook of your arm.
Cool liquid brushed across your skin. A smooth cloth doused in alcohol rubbing and sanitizing your arm. The acrid scent filled your sinuses, making you flinch. Every nerve ending in your body was ringing alarms. Constant fear flooded your mind as the seconds ticked by.
A tight pinch pierced your skin and you nearly went back on your word. Almost lashing out like a cornered, rabid animal. The needle pushed under your skin and settled in your vein. Foreign, metal, cold, bad. It shouldn’t be in your arm. You should remove it, kill whoever stuck it in you.
No. This wasn’t you. You didn’t mindlessly kill people. No matter how angry you were, you would always try to find a solution. Pushing down your own feelings for the sake of peace. The fiery hatred burning inside was a feeling you often tried to ignore, tried to suppress, if not for you then for those you cared about.
Memories floated through your mind like leaves on the surface of a pond. Logan laughing at something stupid you said, his eyes crinkling at the edges. Charles giving you a scathing review of a book he’d recently read. Jean and Scott cuddled together, tucked away behind a corner in the foyer.
Your friends. Your colleagues. Your family.
A trembling breath passed between your lips. The feral rage churning inside you had simmered down to a low heat. Just barely warming the edges of your mind in anger. You swallowed a grief-covered lump that had gathered in your throat.
~~~~
Colonel William Stryker watched your blood being drawn with mild curiosity. Like watching an animal in a vet’s office have their blood work done. You were restrained, arms bound and eyes covered, with a terrified Maria standing over you. Her trembling hands clutched at your arm as the red liquid flowed through the rubber tube.
A thick pane of glass separated William from you. Elevated by at least a story, Stryker stood in the observation deck. He adjusted how his dark jacket fell across his midriff. Bright lights hanging from the ceiling reflected white circles on his glasses.
The control panel sitting before him glowed and quietly hummed. Switches connected to the electric interface of your restraints. Red button to shock you, blue button to sedate you, green button to release you. Ingenious design, if you asked him.
Sharp heels clicked on the concrete floor next to him. Yuriko, black suited and hair slicked back, moved to stand next to William. Her hands were clutched behind her back, chrome nails just barely shimmering in the light. Silver eyes looked between William and your writhing body below.
“Is Xavier ready?” he asked, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. Yuriko, ever the silent one, gave him a quick nod. William took one last glance down at you, a spot of pity bubbling in his stomach, then turned away from the glass.
Soldiers with varying degrees of combat armor and armaments lined the halls of the dam. Each giving William a polite nod as the colonel breezed past. Stryker barely acknowledged the formal greetings, periphery only just catching glimpses of their faces. They were unimportant.
A hiss sprouted from the metal door as it slid open. Chrome, unpolished, with a clouded window near the top. He grimaced in disgust. Everything in this accursed dam was filthy. Not a place for a man of his repute to continue his work, and certainly not structurally sound enough to house the several mutants he now possessed.
The room he stepped into was much like every other room in the Alkali Lake Dam. Concrete entombing him on all sides, bright lights hanging from the ceiling, spots of equipment and machinery placed near the doors for easy access.
Green light glowed from sconces set low on the curved walls. Wires and tools suspended from the ceiling hung in alcoves like swinging corpses. A steel table and chair sat in front of one of those alcoves. Stryker moved to the table, double checking his pen was still in his breast pocket, then turned to face the current object of his desire.
Charles Francis Xavier. In all of his bald, old, crippled glory. His posh blue suit and silk gold tie reflected the white spotlight directed at him. A chrome device sat on the mutant’s wrinkled brow. Steel, magnetization, and electricity working together to cage his mind inside that thick skull of his.
Stryker chuckled under his breath at the sight. The great Professor X. All powerful telepath who could control the entire world with a single thought. Reduced to a hunched man in a wheelchair.
Xavier stirred, head beginning to raise from its lowered position. Stryker kept an air of indifference on his face while clutching at the pen in his jacket. When the mutant’s eyes met the colonel’s, William threw the professor a proud smile. Understanding passed through Xavier’s perplexed expression.
“William…”
“Please, Xavier, don’t get up,” Stryker said, cutting the mutant off. A chuckle threatened to leave his chest at his own quip.
Quiet whirring surrounded Xavier as the man folded in on himself. Eyes squeezing shut, shoulders twitching.
“I call it the neural inhibitor,” William explained. He watched the mutant struggle under the steel cap, then continued while tapping his forehead, “It keeps you out of here.”
The whirring stopped as Xavier’s eyes opened. Beady blues took in the space around the cripple. Wrists bound in leather straps, suit roughed up at the edges, Stryker and Yuriko standing before him.
“What have you done with Scott?” Xavier asked, voice thin and edged in pain.
“Don’t worry. I’m just giving him a little re-education. Him and that little pet project of yours,” Stryker replied. Xavier tensed in the seat of his wheelchair.
“You don’t mean-”
“Why yes, I do. The little weapon of mass destruction y’all have taken to calling ‘Vampire,’” William said with undeniable confidence. He leaned back on the concrete wall next to him as he said, “Of course, we both know she’ll never truly leave behind her old name. What was it?”
“William-”
“No, that’s not it. ‘Bleeder.’ Yeah, that’s the one,” Stryker mused. Xavier’s jaw clenched, withered hands curling into fists. The mutant eyed the colonel with sparking anger burning in his blue eyes.
“She hasn’t used that calling card in quite some time,” Xavier said slowly, voice coming out measured and restrained. Stryker huffed an incredulous laugh.
“Just because the lion is trapped in a zoo doesn’t change its nature. Savagery can’t be swayed by giving the lion a cushy home and ample playmates. Sooner or later, professor, she will snap again. And from the way she mosied up to me in that mansion of yours, I’d say she’s one breath away from tearing the whole country to pieces.”
~~~~
Logan silently followed the group of teenagers in front of him up the driveway. Early morning sun rippled through the trees and onto Bobby’s family home. Gentle breezes made the grass sway, the sounds of cars starting down the road echoed across damp asphalt, freshly-mowed grass a few doors down floated through the air.
His mind was a fucking hurricane. Spinning and twisting and raging to where it was hard to tell which way was up. Glimpses of the events from the night before rolled through his head like peals of thunder.
You were gone. You were right fucking in front of him, scared eyes meeting his, and then you were gone. Obscured by the frosted blue ice Bobby had conjured. Logan had pounded on that ice until his hands bled, desperate to reach you, desperate to see your eyes again, desperate to get you away from that man.
Stryker.
Wrath boiled in his chest when the name crossed his mind. Logan had no memory to connect to the name, no instance of ill-intent, nothing that would link this deep-seated hatred.
Well, other than the fact that the guy had raided the fucking mansion and took you from Logan. Severed from his life like a missing limb.
He barely registered the climb up the front porch steps. Nor the conversation passing between Rogue, John, and Bobby. Logan’s mind swirled with the agony of losing you, the confusion surrounding this whole scenario, the unbridled fury licking at that primal part of his mind.
His hand subconsciously slipped the front door shut behind his group. White-suburban walls and decorations hit Logan’s downturned vision like he’d wandered into a Target. He brushed away his racing thoughts to verify that the door was locked.
Logan would get you back. He’d stop Stryker, free the kidnapped mutants, and get you back. Even if he had to climb fucking Mount Everest. He wouldn’t rest until you were safe, held against his chest and tucked under the covers in your bed.
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#wolverine#logan howlett#hugh jackman#wolverine fanfic#logan howlett fanfic#wolverine x reader#logan howlett x reader#mutant!f!reader#x2: xmen united#more lore for reader!!! we love to see it!!!
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Something’s in the Air - Part 1
Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Reader
18+ only, read at your own risk
Summary: Natasha returns from a mission after being exposed to a chemical that makes her extremely, extraordinarily feral for you.
Word count: 2362
AN: Here is the opening act of the long-awaited collaboration with @jedi-luca! Enjoy, sinners!
Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.
Natasha races down the empty hallway, trying to ignore the blaring alarms and flashing lights overhead. She can’t read any of the symbols marking the doors, and all she knows is that she’s looking for one with a triangle in the center of three overlapping circles, like a variation on the classic biohazard sign.
“You find him yet, Nat?” Clint buzzes in her earpiece.
“Not yet,” she responds.
“Well, you’ve only got about another minute before HYDRA agents flood the building–”
“I know!” she snaps, her eyes finally settling on a triangle surrounded by three circles. “I found it!”
“Get him and let’s go!”
Natasha doesn’t need to be told twice, and she inputs the ten-digit code into the keypad on the door. It lights green to grant her access and she steps into a tiny, square room, no bigger than a broom closet, the heavy steel door automatically closing behind her.
“Uh oh,” she says when she hears the door click shut.
Suddenly, a white smoke starts to fill the tiny room, jetting out from the piping running along the walls and ceiling. Natasha covers her mouth with her arm, fumbling on her belt for a proper mask. The smoke stings her eyes and burns her throat, but the initial shock of pain is quickly overtaken by a warm, fuzzy feeling. Natasha staggers back into the wall, not even feeling the impact of the solid concrete as her stomach clenches in a way that’s familiar and foreign at the same time.
But just as quickly as it had started, the pipes stop pumping out the gas and it clears away through the vents. She wipes at her watering eyes and sees a door in front of her with no lock. More cautiously this time, she opens it and finds herself staring down a young boy behind a glass wall.
“Clint, I found him.”
***********************************************************************
Natasha safely extracts the boy, wrapping him up in a ragged blanket she found on his bed, and carries him out in a bundle. She meets Clint just in time before the HYDRA agents realize their base has been compromised. They leave the boy in the custody of a SHIELD van and six agents. Natasha gives him a chocolate before they part ways. Her and Clint escape on the Quinjet, only breathing a sigh of relief once they are safely hidden amongst the clouds.
“When I was trying to get him, I got sprayed with something,” she tells him in a low voice.
“With what?” Clint doesn’t take his eyes off the dashboard.
“I don’t know.”
“You seem fine.”
As if on cue, the same sharp pain that she experienced upon first inhaling the smoke punches her stomach again and she doubles over.
“Shit,” she curses, trying to massage out the ache and feeling her cheeks flame in embarrassment when she finally realizes what the pain reminds her of. Although she wouldn’t describe it as a pain, but that feeling of being so aroused she wants to burst.
“Nat?”
“Uh, never mind,” she says, not wanting to get into details with him.
“I’ll call ahead and have Dr. Cho ready to see you in the medical bay,” he says.
“I–Wait, I don’t think that’s necessary,” Natasha says, but Clint won’t listen to her, he’s already typing out a message to send to the doctor.
Natasha grumbles wordlessly and takes the seat next to Clint. She still isn’t sure why SHIELD made such a point to send in some of their best Avengers to free a single young boy, but sometimes, the less details they knew the better, and now she had to worry about what exactly had been in that smoke.
She takes her phone out from the backpack under the chair and sends you a text. But it’s almost three in the morning, so her text goes unanswered. With another 30 minutes until they’re home, Natasha boredly scrolls back up in the conversation, her attention caught by some of the old pictures you’ve sent her.
The first one she looks at is probably the most innocent of the bunch, a slightly blurred snapshot of you post-workout, your skin gleaming with sweat and your muscles pumped. Natasha bites her lip as her eyes trace down the veins on your stomach, following their path to the waistband of your shorts, which is not quite low enough to reveal perhaps her favorite body part of yours.
She quickly skips to the next picture, which is much more scandalous and should not be viewed in a public setting, but luckily Clint is sitting in front of her. You’re lying down, the camera positioned down towards your muscular legs, but Natasha’s attention is drawn to the thick cock you have your hand wrapped around. Her center clenches around nothing; Natasha wishes she had your length inside of her, ramming into her hard and fast, until you came undone and pumped your seed deep into her womb.
“Fuck,” she mutters to herself, crossing one leg over the other, trying to alleviate the pulsing at her core and failing. There was still so much time left until they landed, she didn’t know how she was going to survive. Out of pure desperation, she considers touching herself (still in the vicinity of where Clint can hear her, but he can turn his hearing aid down, can’t he?) right there in the Quinjet, and it takes all of her mental strength to keep her hands on her knees. She doesn’t know what’s gotten into her, why she’s so horny all of a sudden.
All she knows is if she doesn’t have you inside her in the next hour, she may actually die.
Using her advanced Red Room torture resistance techniques, Natasha barely clings to her sanity for the next 30 minutes. She grinds herself subtly on her seat, although it does next to nothing to ease the ache in her stomach.
“Can’t you fly faster?” she asks Clint eventually through gritted teeth. “It’s not like there’s any traffic in the sky.”
“I’m doing my best,” Cint responds.
“Well, going a little faster would be nice.”
Clint doesn’t bite back at her even though he wants to. Overall, Natasha seems okay even after her exposure to the unknown gas, but Clint knows his best friend better than herself. Something is bothering her–badly–and she doesn’t want to talk about it, which means it can only be one thing.
Natasha wants to cry in relief when the iconic “A” of the Avengers Tower comes into view. She practically hijacks the controls from Clint trying to land the plane faster, but just before she can sprint out of the Quinjet, Clint grabs onto her.
“You have to see Dr. Cho first,” Clint says sternly, holding onto her arms in a vice grip.
“I don’t want to see the doctor. I want Y/N,” Natasha says, almost in tears. Her core is practically on fire at this point and she wouldn’t be surprised if her panties are ruined.
“Y/N will be there,” Clint assures her, dragging her to the elevator and going one floor down. Despite the early hour, Dr. Cho waits sleepily to greet them at the entrance of the medical bay. Natasha practically throws a fit as Dr. Cho escorts her to a private room, while Clint disappears without an explanation.
“I’m fine, Doctor,” Natasha insists as Dr. Cho has her sit down on the edge of the plastic bed.
“Agent Barton said you may have been exposed to some unknown chemical,” Dr. Cho says, shining a bright penlight into her eyes and opening her mouth to examine her tongue and tonsils.
“I’m fine,” Natasha repeats, shifting agitatedly and crinkling the white paper covering the bed.
Dr. Cho squints at her. “I’ll be back to run some more tests,” she says, disappearing with a flip of her white lab coat.
Natasha groans and falls back on the bed, unzipping the collar of her uniform down to her chest, flapping her hands to cool her face. She thinks back to the pictures of you she looked at on her phone and before she can even stop herself, sticks her hands down her pants, ignoring how unusually wet she is, her fingers gliding through her soaked folds to press into herself.
“Fuck,” she mutters, kicking her legs wider to find a more comfortable position. Natasha can easily fit three fingers into herself already, a feat that normally takes some working up to, although it pales in comparison to the size of your cock. She pants at the thought of you on top of her, your body hot and heavy against hers, the feeling of your muscles flexing as you devote your strength to pleasuring her. She clenches hard around her fingers, trying to imagine them as your cock instead, hard and throbbing, stretching her apart in the best of ways and filling her better than any toy or substitute can.
Suddenly, there is a knock on her door and Natasha pauses mid-thrust.
“Nat? Babe, it’s me,” your croaky voice says on the other side.
“Come in!” she responds.
You open the door, still in your pajamas. Clint had called you until you woke up, telling you that while the mission had been a success, Natasha had come down with something and you needed to see her immediately. Without properly dressing, you staggered down to the medical bay, worried about your girlfriend despite your own exhaustion and delirium from being woken up at three in the morning.
And now you stare at her, jaw dropped, as Natasha is lying on the hospital bed, her hand disappearing down her shorts, her forehead covered in a light layer of sweat.
“Are you–” you start.
“I need you,” she begs, removing her hand and your heart thumps when you see that it is completely soaked in her slick. “Y/N, please, I need you.”
“What happened?” you ask, as your legs seem to have a mind of their own and gravitate to her side. Natasha reaches out for you, her hand twisting in the front of your shirt to draw you closer. She tugs it up, trying to shove her hand into the waistband of your shorts next and you stop her gently. “Nat.”
“I got sprayed with something while I was trying to free the subject,” she says, clawing at your abs. “At first it didn’t seem to affect me, but when we were on the way back, I just felt this overwhelming need…for you.”
“For me?”
She nods, biting her lip and looking at you with her bedroom eyes. Suddenly, your whole body lights awake, and you strip out of your shirts and shorts, climbing on the bed with Natasha and the structure squeaks under your added weight. Natasha pulls you on top of her, frantically wiggling out of her suit so she can feel you skin-to-skin. She kisses you ferociously, bruising your lips and clacking her teeth against yours, but you respond with equal enthusiasm, not really sure why she’s so desperate for you all of a sudden but not going to complain either.
You roll your hips in a gyrating motion, dragging your hardening cock along the insides of her slick thighs, unable to help yourself when you let out a moan at her impressive wetness. You’ve never seen her so ready for you, and you know you’ll have no trouble slipping inside.
“Fuck, fuck,” Natasha pants, dragging her nails along the muscular planes of your back and gripping onto your butt. “Stop teasing, baby,” she begs, trying to guide you to her entrance but you hold back.
“I haven’t even gone in and you’re already going to cum,” you point out, although you’re surprisingly close yourself, seeing how turned on your girlfriend is for you. You look down to see your cock shining with her wetness, the veins on it throbbing.
“I can’t cum without you,” Natasha says, and you lose all patience and discipline. You line yourself up with her entrance and push in hard, moaning when wet velvet wraps around your cock and Natasha moans in absolute relief at finally being filled. You pound into her, the muscles in your thighs and abs flexing like steel bands. Natasha keens as she takes you, knowing that you’re the only one who can bring her to a high that will have her entire body shaking, her lungs screaming, her nails marking red lines down your shoulders and back that everyone will see when you go to the gym tomorrow.
“God, Nat, you’re so wet,” you say between thrusts, using all your strength to hold yourself upright, when Natasha’s pussy is so tight and hot around you that your thighs are trembling and you can’t focus on anything other than the heat between your legs. You want to last longer, so you broaden your strokes, slowing down your pace but burying yourself even deeper with each thrust.
“Yes, just like that,” Natasha moans as the head of your cock presses against her sensitive walls. “Keep going, baby. Don’t stop.” She wants you to be buried to the hilt when you release her load, she wants to drain you of every drop you have to offer.
“Almost…there…” you grunt, squeezing her hips tighter as you pin her against the bed. The ball of arousal in your stomach burns hotter as you near your peak, and Natasha knows your body well enough to sense that your finish is near. She pulses around you harder and you drop your head against her breasts, panting like you’re running the last mile of a marathon. “Nat, Nat I’m gonna–”
It takes one more powerful thrust that causes the entire hospital bed to collapse under your combined weight. You jerk your hips forward as your cum shoots out of your cock in short, hard bursts. Natasha practically cries in relief as you fill her to the brim.
At the same second all of this is happening, Dr. Cho comes back into the room. She says nothing, only nodding in immediate understanding and quickly backing out.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
AN: Part 2 by @jedi-luca is here!
Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content.
#natasha romanoff#black widow#natasha romanoff smut#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff x reader
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Ok guys this is somewhat of a controversial take on Jason Grace’s powers. You can tell I was nervous writing this out because I used capitalization lol. Please read till the end
I want to start by saying I love Jason Grace. He is such a cutie. I adore him. And he is a very, very powerful demigod. And he is totally capable of very evil things, just like Percy. This take concerns a certain ability that a lot of people seem to think he has, but I don’t think people realize how unrealistic is. (I mean people can still hc whatever they want, it just doesn’t mean it’s canon.) Okay, here goes
There is absolutely no evidence or reason that Jason Grace would be able to control the electricity in our bodies. And here’s why…
I know so many of you really love that idea, and justify it by using the logic that percy can control people’s bodily fluids, so since jason can control lightning, he could control neurons and action potentials. But here’s the thing: The reason percy can control bodily fluids is because bodily fluids, like saliva, blood, and tears are largely made up of water, so he can manipulate the content of those substances that is water. And water is water. H2O is H2O. Percy directly controls all water. That’s his power.
Jason, however, controls weather. Which means he controls clouds, thunder, wind, rain, and yes, lightning. But just because lightning involves electricity does not mean he controls ALL electricity. He controls rain, right? Rain is water. But jason does not control all water. Just rain. Because it’s weather. And before you completely ignore what I just said about rain, and argue “but if he can control the electricity that causes lightning, he could control the electrical signals in people’s brains and muscles,” I see where you’re coming from, but the electricity in lightning is NOT the same electricity in our bodies. Unlike water, not all electricity is the same. Water is a basic chemical compound, in all its forms. Electricity, however, is the flow of electric charge through conductive materials, which produces energy. And those materials and types of energy vary. There are different types. The two we are discussing here are static electricity and bioelectricity.
Static electricity is the accumulation of electric charge on the surface of an object. Did you ever do that experiment where you rubbed a balloon on your head and your hair stuck up? Static electricity causes lightning when there is a buildup of electrical charge in the atmosphere during a storm. When the charge difference between clouds, or between a cloud and the ground, becomes too much, it creates a sudden discharge of electricity, which we see as lightning.
Bioelectricity involves chemicals. It refers to the electrical signals and currents produced within living organisms. It works through the movement of charged particles, called ions, across cell membranes, which allows for communication between cells, nerve impulses, muscle contractions, and various physiological processes.
So here’s the thing. Even if Jason could control ALL static electricity, which likely is NOT the case, it’s not even the same type as the electricity that makes neurons fire. And like I stated, Jason/Zeus has control over weather and storm elements, which may involve electricity, but does not mean he controls all electricity.
Okay besties, now before you show up in my comment section aggressively defending jason and assuming I think he’s weak, let me clarify: I am not saying Jason is not powerful as hell, or that he could not do some creepy ass evil things. He definitely could. For instance, he’s shown through his control over wind that he can manipulate air currents in various ways. MEANING he could create a vacuum effect, and suck all the air out of a person’s body. Like… HELLO? He could collapse their lungs. Deprive their brain of oxygen. He could repeatedly suck the de-oxygenated air, aka CO2, out of their lungs, and then force it back in. Which would be torture. Death by slow suffocation. So using his control of wind and air currents, Jason could be terrifying as hell if he wanted to be, and could do unspeakable things to human beings. I’m simply saying that his ability to summon lightning has absolutely zero connection to the hypothetical ability of being able to control people’s neurons. They’re not even somewhat related processes.
Please don’t yell at me. I love Jason. I think he could be very very scary and evil if he wanted to. Him as a villain would be catastrophic, and I’m not doubting that in any way.
#PLEASE DONT YELL AT ME#IM JUST STATING THE FACTS#jason could be very scary#i don’t doubt it#jason grace#percy jaskon#heroes of olympus#pjo#percy jackson and the olympians
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The Beast Withín
author note: Part 3. Thank you too everyone for all the love and support. Also I'm still taking tag requests so if you want to be tagged please let me know! Enjoy! :) also part 4 will be out super soon, had to cut some of the story as I couldn't upload the whole thing. masterlist
summary: Omegas are rare, in a world full of Alphas and Betas. Being a Omega was not only dangerous but they were highly sought after. After living your life has a Beta in disguise, you meet a scary Alpha, but not any normal alpha. But a gaint Apex Alpha who won't stop at anything to make you his
tags: Alternative Universe. Mentions of female anatomy, a/b/o dynamics. A bit of smut, more to come. Blood and fluids. Petty reader. König asking for consent again. Lots of fluff
König held you to his chest, still wrapped in your blankets has he carried you all the way from the underground parking garage, up the elevator and through the grand doors of his penthouse.
You were in awe and felt extremely out of place. Setting you down on his wrap around couch that faced out the floor to ceiling windows. Over looking the city, the winter sun hanging high in the sky. You could just imagine the sunrises and sunsets from this view.
Without more than a whisper König left you alone, disappearing down a dark hallway.
You laid in your thoughts, eyes drifting around taking everything in. Getting up and stretching out your sore and stiff limbs. Following his scent down the same dark hallway.
You could hear his deep voice behind a dark oak door. Only stepping away when his voice told you to go away from behind the door.
Storming off on a mission to raid his house. Everything was too clean and too neat. Making your skin itch, it reminded you of a doctor’s office, you could almost taste the cleaning chemicals.
Running you fingers over the polished glass, leaving streaks. Opening every drawer and cabinet, not even bothering on closing them. Helping yourself to his snacks, leaving the box open and on the counter. Dusting the crumbs all over.
Continuing your petty mission, you found yourself down another hallway. Another bedroom, a laundry closet and a bathroom. This place was massive, you wondered if he lived here alone. You stood in front of a set of double doors, pushing them open to reveal his master bedroom. It was just as depressing as the rest of the house.
The massive bed fitted with silk black sheets and a boring grey duvet. The only thing catching your eye was the soft fluffy rug that took up most of the flooring. Sinking your toes into it, wanting to wrap it around you but you progressed.
You found yourself in his section of the closet, your eye catching something buried back behind garment bags. Pulling it forward to reveal a military uniform. Running your fingers over all the shiny medals, pushing the stiff material back where you found it. Heading towards the bathroom, flicking the light on to reveal mirrors lining the room. Floor to ceiling just like the windows throughout the place.
After snooping around and checking out his grooming products which impressed you but also didn’t shock you. You found yourself in the tub, it was made out of some sort of stone or crystal. The water was up to your nose, steaming floating up into the air. The mirrors slight fogged over and the sound of silence. You laid in that tub for what felt like forever, letting the hot water set into your bones. The throbbing pain in your lower abdomen not letting up. By the end of the night you know it’ll only be worse.
Your mind kept drifting back to the big scary Alpha, sitting in that room. You realised you didn’t even know his name, something that slipped your mind from waking up to him towering over your bed and to him carrying you out of your life. Not knowing what you got yourself into, wondering if Kalina stopped by. You understood her actions last night, why she was so desperate to see you leave. You played with the bubbles, having found some soaps under the double sinks. Practically dumping the whole bottle in. You’ll need to call her, hoping see wasn’t worrying herself sick.
König finally emerged from his office, shutting the door close hard and locking it. Running his hand over his head and to the back of his neck.
He’s been running on nothing but adrenaline. From the moment he stepped into the club with the intention of taking out his business partner to the moment he sat in that uncomfortable chair, listening to the complaints and banter of his comrades, wanting nothing more than to curl up with you. You, it was awfully quiet in his home, something he was use to but now that you were here it worried him. Walking out of the hallway into his living space, it looked like a tornado ran through it. Every door open, unattended food on the counter but you were no where to be found.
He even checked the security system to make sure you didn’t leave. It was still secured so you were somewhere in the house. He wondered his home, keeping his ears out for any sound. Hunting you down like you were his prey.
The sound of splashing waster drew him into his bathroom. Seeing your head poking out from the deep soaker tub, he stood there looking at you. “Feeling better?” he finally spoke, which caused you to jump and slosh around the bath water. You stared at him through the mirror. “You scared the hell out of me.” you explained, holding a hand to your fast beating heart. “Beautiful isn’t it.” König spoke, walking further into the room till he was next to the tub. You were lucky for the bubbles, completely covering you from his prying eyes.
He fell to his knees, leaning over the tub and looking at you. ”But not as beautiful as you my dear.” He ran a big hand over your hair, “How are you feeling?” he asked. You were taken aback by the acts of kindness and affection. “A little better, but it’s going too get worse.” you told him. Resting you chin on your knees, König grabbed the washcloth that rest on the edge, dipping it into the hot soapy water and began cleaning your skin, being as gentle as he could.
It made you tense, watching him from the corner of your eye. But soon relaxed and melted into his soft delicate touch. He made sure every inch of you was clean, dipping his arms under the water to scrub your back, his sleeves of his shirt getting soaked in the process. He began moving to the front, dragging the cloth over your chest and down to your breasts. Allowing yourself to lean back and enjoy the pampering, this was something you could get use to.
Until he reached right above your mound, tensing as his hands got lower and lower. He slowed his pace, gentle dragging the cloth over your pussy and down your thighs. Scrubbing your legs one by one and not forgetting the bottom of your feet.
“Thank you.” you whispered, letting out the breath you were holding. “Don’t worry about it love.” König draped the cloth over the faucet and stood from his spot. Walking to one of the closets and pulling out a fluffy white towel.
“Up.” he commanded stretching the towel the width of his arms. You slowly got up from the water, letting the soap fall around you and down your wet body. His eyes following it all the way down to your feet. “Should I-“ you started, “Leave it.” he interrupted.
Wrapping the towel around you and pulling you out of the tub like a toddler. Setting you down on your feet before he began drying you off, moving further and further down your body until he was once again kneeling in front of you. His head the same height has your stomach, he was being very gentle with you and slow. Not wanting you to be scared and curl up into a ball like one of those bugs he use to play with had a child.
Standing back to his full towering height and wrapping the towel around your shoulders once again, he began moving you towards the entrance of his bedroom. Sitting you on the edge of the bed as he went back into the closet and emerged with another big shirt. “I’ll have your stuff brought up later but this will do for now.” he reached it out towards you.
“Where’s my blankets?” you asked in a panic, pulling the shirt over your head. “Giving them a wash, that’s all. I’ll bring you more.” König turned around and went out the main bedroom door, returning with a few stacks on blankets and setting them down on his bed. “Make yourself comfortable, please my home is your home.” his hand traced down the side of your face and cupped your chin, pulling it up until you were looking into his eyes. “My sweet omega, I’ll service you tonight.” his bold words making you blush. “Why do you keep calling me that.” you asked, feeling a tad embarrassed.
“Omega?” he asked. “Yes, Omega.” you began sorting through the blankets. “Because you are my o
Omega? I don’t understand?” König stopped your movements so you were looking at him again. “It’s just, I don’t know. I guess I’m not use to it.” you smiled up at him. “Don’t worry about it dear.” he smiled back, brushing a strand of your hair that fell in front of your face away.
He left you to sort out the blankets, choosing a spot near the window but still on the rug. Building your nest, pulling his pillows from the bed and placing them around. After the events that took place you were exhausted. Letting yourself sink into your nest and pulling a thick warm blanket over you body, allowing sleep to take you.
König wasn’t gone for long but when he returned he found you curled up on the floor, and not the bed.
He knelt down, calling to you softly. “Hmm..”you mumbled from under the blankets. “May I come in Omega?” he was asking for permission before entering your nest. Knowing that an Omegas nest was very important and scared to them. “Mhmm..” you were too sleepy for words, pulling back the blanket to allow some room for the giant.
Konig wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. Letting out a low purr to help lull you back to sleep. It was only the evening, the winter sun starting to set.
Feeling all the weight from the previous week weighing heavy on him. Sinking into your nest with you, you clung to his warmth like a pup would it’s mother. Nestling into his neck, sniffing his musky scent. You couldn't help yourself, just a taste, you thought. Letting your tongue lick the sweet spot that sent shivers down König back. In you half asleep state you asked “What should I call you?” it was silent for a while, almost forgetting what you asked before he spoke back. “König.” It was sort and sweet.
It was The Beast turn to speak, whispering into his ear that your heat was here. You were licking his neck again, right over his scent gland. Letting you teeth lightly nip at it, slowly sinking your teeth into the soft flesh, allowing his tangy blood to coat your mouth.
That’s when another wave of heat hit you, waking you from your sleep. A sliver of blood dripping down your mouth and chin. Your slick coating your walls and pushing itself out, forgetting you weren’t wearing any panties. A painful whine left your throat, but König was pushing you flush to the nest. Your back on the floor while he climbed under the blankets to get a better look at your glistening pussy. “Relax my Omega, your Alpha will make it all better.”
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Heya! It’s me again, so I was playing pressure with a friend to yap about the lore going on there and showed them that you can die to Sebastian and was reading my death file when I saw that the recover or rescue team came by to pick up our bodies (my friend died as well to get the badge LOL) So being a person who runs on caffeine and 4 hours of sleep, How about a Experiment reader (Anytype of monster and gender) gets caught by the recovery team, gets experimented on again so they’re pretty much brainwashed to take out Sebastian and/or get the crystal? Angst ending or Fluff ending is fine! You might be hearing me yap about the lore LOL
🍀
Tags: GN!reader, mentions of experiments and drugs, Reader is brainwashed against their will.
Words: 1,1k
The facility's cold walls pressed in on you, the sterile air thick with the metallic scent of blood and chemicals. Your last memory before this suffocating darkness was of Sebastian. His face, twisted with anger—or was it sorrow?—was the last thing you saw before everything went black and your mind shut off completely.
But now, your body aches. Something had changed, yet you failed to pinpoint it directly. Based on your view, you were in a pristine lab again, hooked up to machines, wires connected to your arms and chest, pumping something into you—something that made your mind foggy and distant, as if it didn’t belong to you anymore. The recovery team had found you, and instead of rescuing you, they brought you back into the nightmare you had once escaped as if your life was a tape that ran on repeat. It all felt so sickening familiar and at the same time so strangely because of the mysterious medication they gave you.
You tried to focus, but your thoughts slipped like clear water through your fingers. Every time you tried to grasp at a memory, it flickered out of reach. A dull pain echoed in your skull, reminding you that they had been tinkering with your mind—reshaping it, rewiring it. Urbanshade was doing what they did best: using you, turning you into something else. Something that isn't supposed to exist.
They had injected you with something, a serum meant to restrict your personality, to make you loyal, silent, more compliant. But the worst part wasn’t that type of change—it was the mental fog they forced upon you. They weren’t just changing a piece of your personality. They were changing your mind. Slowly, you could feel yourself slipping away, the edges of your personality dissolving into something more mechanical, more obedient. You were becoming their weapon, molded for a single purpose.
And that purpose? Sebastian.
“Target: Sebastian Solace. Mission: Retrieve the crystal. Kill on sight.” The robotic voice from the intercom echoed in your mind, a constant reminder of your new objective. It wasn’t you, but it felt like it was. The brainwashing had worked, at least partially. You wanted to resist, but every time you tried, pain shot through your head, and the objective reasserted itself like a brick wall blocking your escape.
They had turned you into a weapon to take him down.
Days, maybe weeks, passed as you walked through the hallways of the blackside, sharpening your new instincts, your new state of mind. Each mission drilled into your mind left you more detached, more focused. Every muscle in your body responded to their commands, every thought sharpened to fulfill the one goal: track Sebastian, retrieve the crystal. It was all you knew anymore.
But deep down, something still clung to life inside you, like a flickering ember of who you used to be. The memories of Sebastian—his voice, his calm determination, and the fleeting moments of connection you shared before it all went wrong. You weren’t sure if it was guilt or something else, but it kept gnawing at the corners of your brain, threatening to tear down the programming.
And then, finally, the day came. You met again.
The facility’s doors slid open, and you stepped out, breathing in the fresh, crisp air that felt almost foreign now. The world outside had moved on while you were trapped in Urbanshade’s clutches, but for you, time had frozen. Your eyes scanned the horizon, senses on high alert as you tried to track Sebastian down as best as you could without any helping tools. He wasn’t far. The crystal wasn’t far.
Your body moved like a predator, silent and swift through the shadows as you made your way to his hideout that served as a small shop. Urbanshade’s command echoed louder with every step: Kill on sight. The words pulsed like a heartbeat in your skull, tightening their grip on your mind.
And there he was—Sebastian. His tall, lean figure stood in the dim light of the facility’s lower levels, his back turned to you. He didn’t see you yet. You could feel the crystal’s energy pulsing from somewhere nearby as well, drawing you in like a beacon.
Your muscles tensed, ready to strike.
But then, something in you cracked. That flicker of memory, the ember of who you once were, flared up. Images flashed before your eyes—Sebastian smirking at you in some shared moment, his voice calming the chaos around you, his hand brushing yours in quiet moments that neither of you acknowledged aloud. The mission screamed in your head, demanding you act, but your heart thudded louder, pushing back. You fought the control, teeth gritted, hands shaking.
“Don’t do this.” It wasn’t your voice, but it was a part of you. The real you.
Sebastian turned, his eyes locking onto yours in an instant. For a moment, surprise flickered across his face, quickly replaced by something darker—recognition. He knew what you were here for.
“Of course,” he muttered, his voice cold, though his eyes softened for a split second as they traced your form. “They got you, too.”
You stood frozen, torn between your orders and the memories fighting to resurface. The sharp edge of the mission still lingered in your mind, urging you to finish it.
But the way he looked at you—so familiar, so human—made it hard to move. This was Sebastian. Not just the target, not just the mission. He was something else to you, something more. And Urbanshade couldn’t take that away, not completely.
“Are you really gonna go through with it?” His voice broke through your haze, slicing through the confusion in your mind. “After everything?”
Your hands trembled. You were so close. The crystal was there. The mission screamed for completion.
But you dropped your weapon.
Sebastian didn’t move, didn’t rush to you, just watched as you struggled, the conflict playing out on your face. For a moment, you were sure the pain would split your mind in two, the commands so deeply embedded that disobeying felt like tearing yourself apart.
Finally, you spoke, your voice strained. “I… I can’t.”
Sebastian’s eyes softened, though his posture remained guarded. “Then don’t.”
There was a silence, heavy with tension and something unspoken. You had disobeyed. You had failed the mission, but it didn’t feel like failure. It felt like freedom, even if just for a moment.
The pain in your head began to recede, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you felt like yourself again.
But you knew it wouldn’t last. They would come for you. They would fix you, break you down, rebuild you into their weapon again.
Sebastian seemed to sense it too. He stepped closer, his hand brushing yours for the briefest moment. “We’ll figure this out,” he said, voice low. “But we have to go.”
You nodded, though a part of you knew there might not be a way out. But for now, you had one thing—Sebastian—and that was enough.
As you turned to leave, a weight lifted from your chest.
#sebastian solace#sebastian solace x reader#sebastian solace x you#roblox pressure#sebastian solace fanfic#pressure#pressure x reader
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