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livingdeadgirlflorette · 1 month ago

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ARE WE STILL FRIENDS? ₊˚✩⊹ carl grimes x fem!reader

summary : After what happened a few weeks ago, seeing Carl made you anxious. Just looking at him made you ponder what was the thing you had with him. But one visit to a friend of his may just be enough to be the straw that breaks the camel's back.

word count : 4.7k

tags / rundown : average teen angst, fluff, more-than-friends-less-than-lovers trope, glenn and maggie are your substitute parents here, carl has an emotional capacity of a teaspoon, reader and carl are so oblivious oh my word, slight jealous!carl, kissing, sitting on carl's lap, brief mention of teen pregnancy

a / n : hi guys! this is a part 2 for "late night kisses", but it could be read as a stand-alone as well ! i just finished this like 2 hours ago and proofread it, i'm pretty satisfied with how this came out. i really wanted to show how angsty teenager's could be for such trivial things, and i think i showed it pretty well here >_< enjoy reading !

dividers by @cafekitsune 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

PART 1: LATE NIGHT KISSES ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖

With Rick interrupting your whole secret rendezvous with Carl in his bedroom, and practically telling you he knows about you guys— you wonder how bad it really would be if they did find out about you and Carl.

But there was one question that gets under your skin more than anything. It makes you think if anything between the two of you was more than just what you guys were doing. What were you and Carl?

All this time it has been just Y/N and Carl, inseparable, attached to the hip best friends. Just. Friends. That's an interesting way to state the relationship between the two of you, if just friends sneak around and makeout in their bedroom, and If just friends hold eachother at night, looking into each other's eyes lovingly, never wanting it to end.

It makes you concerned also, what did Carl think about the two of you? You don't what to acknowledge it, but it makes you stomach churn thinking that Carl would think you guys were nothing more than friends that kiss one another every once in a while. Thinking about it just puts a crestfallen, depressed look on your face.

"What's got you down in the dumps for?" A voice snaps you out of your mind question of is-Carl-a-friend-or-something-more crisis, remembering where you are. You're at your dining room table, eating breakfast with Glenn and Maggie. Ever since their group came, you became close with them, subconsciously (whether you wanted to or not) growing a familial bond with them.

They told you multiple times that you were welcome to come and go— so whenever you feel like it, you come to them when you have a problem, or you just don't want to interact with other teenagers in Alexandria. They get too posh-sounding when they talk about trivial things for your liking.

"Oh its uh— y'know it's just nothing." You dismiss the brunette woman's question. Since you and Carl didn't want anybody to know about the two of you, you decided to keep it a secret. And it would be a shame for the both of you if all of that came crashing down just 'cause Maggie had asked why you looked so sad.

"Well nothing doesn't make you of all people look so depressed. Why don't you go to your little boyfriend? He always puts a smile on that face." Glenn suggests, using a teasing sound for the question. You know he's just trying to make you feel better, but the mention of Carl just makes you even more down trodden. But you quickly realize what Glenn titles him as.

With an seemingly unstoppable flush blooming on your face, you quickly try to defend yourself, trying to save face.

"He's not my boyfriend, nor am I his girlfriend. We're nothing really, just friends." You argue. Saying that makes your heart break a little, even if you don't want it to. You play with the food on your plate, seeming uninterested. You just want to curl up into a ball and let time pause for a minute. Everything is just too much right now.

"He may not be your boyfriend per se, but he sure does act like one." Glenn counters, smiling knowingly. Despite every molecule and fiber of your being wanting to defend yourself, he was right. Carl did tend to have tendencies towards you that were too close for comfort on being the role of a lover.

If you ever mentioned a food you'd been missing, or an item so specific that you'd been missing in general, he'd get it for you and act all nonchalant and dismissive when you'd ask how the hell did he get it from (but he'd never tell you how he had almost got surrounded by a herd of walkers trying to get it for you). He would put his hand, hovering ever so slightly on your back when going through a crowded group or when he's behind you.

"We're uhm— I dunno. We're something." You say, moving food around your plate, showing signs of boredom, but no amount of uninterest in your body language could mask the sad look on your face. As much as your answer was adding nothing to the conversation, what you said was sincere. What really were you two? Friends don't sneak into the other's room at night, friends don't straddle each other, and friends definitely don't lock lips with each other. It stumped you, if you were going to be honest.

"Well figure that something out with the boy, okay? It's disheartening watch the two of you walk around like sad little puppies all the time." Glenn finalizes, he finishes his plate of food and walks over to the sink. Unknowingly to him, what he had said made you perplexed. Carl was also blue? As much as it made you feel empathetic for him, it made you wonder why he was also feeling like he had his heart punched out of his chest. You thought what you were feeling was just you, but with him also feeling upset over it, it kind of made you guilty 'cause it felt good knowing that what you were feeling was mutual.

"I actually have an idea, but it's not one of my most proudest. . ." You barely let out, feeling all shy now that you realize you're gonna say it out loud. Glenn was washing his dish, but he turned his head to the side to share a look of curiousity with his wife. They both looked back at you, silently tell you to go on.

"I'm gonna talk to Mikey. He seems to know Carl well enough, and I think maybe he could help me." Without skipping a beat, Maggie had paused the spoon with food that was about to go into her mouth and Glenn paused his movements before they continued doing their actions.

You know it was a silly conclusion, but with all the mood swings you were getting from avoiding Carl, desperate times call for desperate measures. You figured you had no choice anymore, and this was the only thing you thought of. Ever since Carl and his group had been recruited by Aaron, Mikey and the other teens seemed to have grown close with him, and you concluded that maybe he'd know if Carl was acting strange and if he had maybe, possibly told him about you.

But before that ridiculous thought, you pondered if maybe Enid could help you with this debacle, but you know she wouldn't be all that comfortable sharing feelings like that, and she wasn't a person that you could talk to about it. You also knew she'd thank you for saving her from that talk about how Carl made you feel all mushy inside.

Is it a stupid and dumb idea? yes— but as you said yourself, desperate times call for desperate measures. The married couple share a uncertain look with each other, but decide silently they wouldn't press too hard about it.

"And uh, how do you think Carl would feel about that? Y'know, going behind his back and all that?" Maggie suggests, finally finishing her last spoonful before standing up to go to where Glenn is at the sink.

You also thought that while thinking of a solution, but you figured that it would be better off if Carl didn't know. What he doesn't know won't hurt him.

"I . . . I uh– actually don't plan on telling him about it, I don't think he needs to know." You're not really sure if does, also it would be a hell of a lot embarrassing knowing Carl knows that you asked one of his friends about what he thought of you.

"Well, if you're gonna do that just make sure you make it right, okay? He seems like he wouldn't be too grumpy about that, but maybe a little." Maggie tries assuring you, standing up and brushing you hair in passing.

What she says gives you a little assurance, but it doesn't outweigh the fact that you're about to lie to Carl; not by saying something but the opposite actually. Lying by omission had never felt so burdening.

"I'll try." You finish you last spoon and head to the sink. Glenn and Maggie seemed to be readying to go outside. Maybe they were going on a walk together? You're not sure.

"Good. Also don't forget to dry that plate okay? You're thinking too much. From what i've read, it's bad for pretty girls." Glenn tries to joke with you, but it doesn't really work. You thank him for that, despite all the teenage angst you're going through, he still wants to put a smile on your face. It makes you heart feel a little lighter.

"I got it, now go away. Let me wallow in my self pity while I wash the dishes." You joke back with them, both parties laughing a little. Even if you're still feeling bad, all that pep talk with them gave you a feeling of determination. You had to get to the bottom of this before it all came crashing down before you.

You look back at the couple, seeing them walk out the door hand in hand with one another, having such a caring gaze for each other. Observing them made you question you and Carl. Did you want that with him? And if you did, did he also feel the same?

Walking to Mikey's house was an interesting experience, to say the least. With a mantra if affirmation in your mind that spans to saying "everything is gonna be okay" , "don't panic, it's not a big deal" and rubbing your hands up and down your arms a dozen times you're sure you could start a fire by doing it, you finally reach Mikey's house.

It helps you realize you don't even have a plan on what to say. Really, what were you gonna say? 'Hey Mikey, I just wanted to know if Carl said anything about me? Not to dump anything on you but i've been sneaking into his room and making out with him these past few months and his father caught us a 2 weeks ago and now im panicking.'?

You rethink your choices, starting to backtrack your decision. But sometimes you just have to calm down— grin and bear it for the sake of needing to get to the bottom of this, before you spiral into a fit of hysteria and isolation.

Your knocks on the door are firm but hesitant, and not long after you see your friend's familliar face. Mikey seemed surprised, and you understood why. You guys were never really that close with one another, with you choosing to hang out with Enid (cause she seemed to understand you too) and him hanging out with Carl and the other boys in the walls. It's justified that he'd be looking like a deer in headlights at the sight of you at their front door.

"Oh, you're the last person I expected to see here. Not in a bad way though, heh. Hey Y/N, you need anything?" Even with the shocked feeling he has, he seems to recover it quickly, putting on a more welcoming, friendly expression.

"Yeah actually, uh— can I come in? I need to talk to you about someone, privately." Your voice comes out meek, frazzled because you haven't really thought out how this conversation would go.

"Uh yeah sure! Come in, come in. I'll uh- I'll ask my father if he's fine with it though, he's just out back and I think he'd be fine with having you over. While i'm talking to him, make yourself at home, okay?" Mikey scrambles to get his words out, it's obvious he feels awkward. But it doesn't stop him from trying to just make it seem like two friends (that's pushing it, better word for you and him would be acquaintances) hanging out. You thank him silently for that, trying to make it seem less awkward than it actually is.

With him going out the back door, you're left to your own devices in his living room. You look around, and there doesn't seem to be anything that interesting. It just looks like any other upper-class house you'd see in Alexandria.

You try to make yourself feel home, sitting down on the couch. Moving from multiple positions on the comfortable cushions, you give up and just fiddle with your fingers. For what feels like an eternity, in his living room, Mikey and his father come in and his father greets you in passing before settling in a chair in the kitchen, busy doing something you can't really see. But before you can really think about it, Mikey comes in and sits next to you.

"I have a glimmer of an idea on why you're here, but I won't say anything unless you want me to." Mikey leans back, getting comfortable. You're confused. How would he of all people know what you were gonna tell him about? It made you feel like you should bite the bullet and ask.

"No it's okay, I wanna know." You urge him. If he did know about who you were gonna talk about, how obvious were the two of you?

"I'm guessing it's because of a certain long haired boy? Just a guess though." His words seem to say he's just guessing, but his tone says otherwise. He sounded teasingly, like he knew something you didn't.

"Shit, was it that obvious? It's just— okay let me think about it, I'm just confused. He seems like he cares about me, but he never really wanted to talk about us. Like what we were. We're something, well we were." That's all you could say before your mind went blank. Thinking about all this is making you go stupid at this point.

"Well since you both seem and look like trainwrecks, i'll talk for you." Mikey knew what you needed right now, and that was for someone to tell you just straight up what was happening.

"You and Carl aren't just friends, okay? You and him may think that, but friends don't act like that with each other and act like it's nothing." Your friend's word seem to reach to you, telling you what needed to be done.

"We're friends, right? You and me? We don't do that. That's different. You and him have something different than friends. It's more than that, Y/N. And if you can't get that through your thick head, i'm not sure how you'll end up." Mikey finishes. He thinks his words got to you, and it did. You feel grateful, really. Despite it being blunt and straightforward, you got the message he was trying to send. You know what you have to do now.

"Wow, that's— huh. Thanks for that, Mikey. It means a lot, even if you unintentionally did refer to me as a numbskull." The joke you let out lightens the mood, putting a mood on both of your expressions. You realize you're lucky to have a friend like Mikey, he's not afraid to tell you straight up when you need something said.

"So since that's out of the way, wanna play videogames? I got something you might like." Mikey suggests. Even if you weren't that close to him, he still wanted to be civil with you. Given his inquiry, you didn't think it would hurt to play videogames with him, even if it was just for an hour or two.

You follow him up the stairs, but before you could make it halfway with him, a firm knock at the door stops the both of your movements. You look at eachother, obviously curious.

"Stay here. It's probably just my father's friend or something asking about him."

He jogs down the steps, hesitant to open it but when he does, his shoulders drop in relief.

"Oh Carl, what are you doing here? You need something?" Mikey asks. With the stairs directly in front of the door, you tilt your head to the side, to see the long-haired brunet you'd been avoiding all this time.

"I was looking for Y/N actually, have you seen her?" Carl was asking. He seemed urgent, with a frantic aura to him, but his face was controlled. Before Mikey could answer Carl had finally found you, catching your gaze. You were on the stairs, looking like a deer in headlights. How did he know you were here? But weird enough, why does he look so rushed?

Carl seemed as confused as you. Why were you with Mikey? Why were you guys alone together? And why does it look like you were just going down from his room? Too many questions and no answers send Carl into a downward spiral. All these thoughts and no conclusion. He'll have to ask you later, 'cause he's going to die surely if it eats away at him from the fact that he'll keep thinking about it. It makes him feel such an unfamilliar feeling that he hasn't felt in a while; like venom coursing in his veins and his blood piping hot, he knew it in himself that he was jealous.

"Oh she's right here actually," Mikey turns so his body's facing you slightly. "You need her right now?" Mikey's question is starting to sound a lot more like earlier, with and underlying tease and knowing look.

Carl seems to pause at the question. Mikey's simple question feels like a more complicated one to him. To explain how much he needs her, he'd have to dive into an ocean's worth deep of words he's been meaning to say. But he'd rather open that can of feelings another time, preferrably with Y/N. Right now, all he wants to do is to speak with her.

"Yea can I actually talk to her? It's important." No matter what Mikey says, either way he'll get Y/N out of that house. It's killing him inside, he doesn't know why you've been so distant lately. The variable of your presence becoming absent in his routine for the past few weeks has left him dumbfounded. He needed to know what was wrong— or else it'll destroy him.

Before Mikey could even utter a proper response, Carl pushes past him and grabs your arm firmly, but gentle enough that he doesn't hurt you. His action befuddles you. First; he looks like a headless chicken trying to find you, and second; he's dragging you out of Mikey's house hurriedly. What could be so urgent that he needed to up and pull you out?

Your heart was in your mouth, unable to say anything. What would you say even? Carl was pulling you out of Mikey's house, and to the direction of his, were you supposed to ask why? You were frazzled, but all you could think about was how careful he was holding you hand. By the time he dragged you out of the house, his hand intertwined with yours, be it a habit or reassurance to him. That simple action made your heart leap out of you chest.

With the brisk pace he was walking with, you made it to his porch in record time. To add more flush to your cheeks, you see his father, Rick at the porch steps— looking at you both knowingly. It seems like he could tell you were tongue tied, and chose not to say anything else to save you the embarrassment (he'd do it later instead).

Walking quick to his room, he pulls you in and locks the door. He turns to you, standing face to face. You want to say something, so badly. But knowing if you would, you'd open up a pandora's box worth of words you'd been meaning to say. So you start slow.

"I wanna start off with i'm sorry, okay? Listen, it's just i'm really worried about us," Carl softens his gaze and walks closer to you. "—and I don't even know what we are anymore."

He grabs your hand and aligns it with his. "What are we, Carl?" As you ask, you watch him. It's cute, watching him observe your hand difference. It's as if he's trying to stall what storm is about to come. He then close his hand, intertwining it between the gaps of yours.

"We're friends, right?" He assures, he looks so pitiful, eyes pleading with you not to let this dam of unspoken words open into a whirlwind of emotions he desperately wanted not to let out.

"Are we really?" You barely say above a whisper. Are you really just friends? With all that happened with you and him, you guys are just platonic? It makes your heart shatter thinking that.

"Carl what you do— what we do isn't just friends. I'm sorry but I can't deal with it if it's just being friends with you." Your face falters, showing a more betrayed expression.

Carl thinks he's pathetic. He swore to himself that he'd never let anyone or anything make you upset, but he never thought he would be the cause of it. It makes his eyes teary, but he'd rather get eaten alive by walkers than show you how much he's been holding in.

"I. . ." Carl hesitates. ". . . I don't want to be just friends with you." Him confessing that makes you doe-eyed, what did he mean by that?

"It's just— everyone I love always leaves." Before he can even register it, his hot tears spill out of his eyes. He's embarrassed, and looks down to hide it.

"I can't lose anybody else." Despite him looking down and his voice low, it's enough for you to hear. You felt stupid now. All this time he was trying to protect you. He felt as if he was magnet of death and chose to love and cherish you from a distance instead, no matter how much it makes his heart feel unsatisfied.

"I— I can't anymore." Carl barely says between his cries. Carl felt silly. Here he was, crying in front of the person he wanted and needed so badly just because he couldn't possibly have her. If he had to choose one word to name his state right now, it would be desperate.

But what you do next is something he never expected you would do. You use your free hand to lift his chin up and wipe away at his tears, still looking at his teary-eyed gaze. Your other hand that was holding his closes, finally reciprocating the action. And what you say next sends his heart going a hundred miles per minute.

"I'm not leaving anytime soon, okay? I care about you too much to do that."

Carl felt special. The one and only person he genuinely wants to be with feels the same, the feeling was mutual. All of it makes his heart feel like it's gonna jump out of his throat. With hesitant movement, you chastely kiss the stains that had been left from his sobbing. Everything Carl was feeling right now made him so overjoyed, it made him lethargic.

With a hesitant hand, he returns the action by caressing the side of your face, looking into your gaze before nervously asking her what he's been meaning to say all this time.

"I love you, okay? I wanna be—" He sighs before he could finish, and shuts his eyes in focus before opening them to look at you once again. He's hesitant, would him saying this ruin everything? You look to him curiously. What now?

"I wanna be your boyfriend." He concludes. All of a sudden you feel your body feel so much lighter. Him stating that made you feel so happy, wanting to jump for joy 'cause everything was going right.

Carl looked nervous, like he would break any second. It was adorable, really. Normally you would be the one doe-eyed and shy from your interactions, but now the roles reversed. You figured it wouldn't be so bad, him looking like that, eyes glassy and pitiful. You couldn't deny how even in his state, he looks so cute.

". . .Okay." You finally say as you smile. The moment you say that, it's like a switch flips with him. He still looked teary-eyed, but he looks ten times more happy. He holds you face in his free hand and asks the other question he's been dying to ask.

"That's— that's great! I- uhm, can I kiss you?" Nervous and skittish, he manages to let out a jumble of words. Even so, you vehemently nod at him.

Carl goes in slowly, trying to gauge your reaction, eyes going to your lips then to you, before he goes in completely to close the space. It feels like heaven, his lips on yours. Just like clockwork, his hands hesitate on your waist. It makes you relax, knowing no matter how many times you kiss, he'll always end up bashful. It makes you smile into the kiss.

Feeling bold, you gently push him back on the edge of his bed, making him sit while you hover on him to keep you as close to him as you need to. He looks so perfect; him sitting on the edge of his bed, looking up at you, pleading eyes begging for you to come back into his space.

With languid, calculated movements, you place yourself on one of his thighs and go back in to capture his lips with yours again. He blushes at this; with the extended amount of time you'd been apart from one another, he's gonna have to get used to you all over again and your touch.

But just like last time you saw each other, you get interrupted. You both hear a loud, firm knock, before an unnecessary amount of wriggling of the door.

You practically jump off one another, before you both come up to the door, with you slightly behind Carl.

The door unlocks and you expect to see Rick, but unexpectedly, you're met with Michonne at the entrance.

"You kids good in there? You seemed pretty silent." Michonne asks. She seemed to know what was going on, but proceeded to ask anyway.

"Yeah– uh-huh, I was just talking to her uh– Y/N." Carl quickly says. But his defense seems to make it a whole lot worse.

"Oh you're talking. All right, i'll stop buggin' ya. Enjoy your talk." Michonne looks at you, letting your already flushed face get even warmer from the implications she was trying to tell you, and then to Carl, who was trying to regulate his breathing, all while Michonne was growing a smirk on her face. She proceeds to close the door, leaving you and him to bask in the shy atmosphere that had been created.

". . .So you wanna make out some more?" You ask. You know you should be shy about it, but there's no use beating around the bush, especially when you want him to touch you so badly all over again.

"Hell yeah." Carl says before grabbing you by the waist and kissing your lips once again. Kissing you with your hands on his shoulders and his hands rubbing circles on your waist, he knows one thing for sure.

He'll never get tired of this.

BONUS ೀ⋆⑅˚

"Oh they're smooching it on alright." Michonne reports to Rick, seemingly teasing the teen pair that wasn't there to defend themselves.

He had asked her if she could go up and see what they were doing, not that he didn't trust his son and his friend or whatever she was to him, but he figured it wouldn't hurt to make a precaution. They didn't want another baby Judith situation after all.

"Ah good, thanks." Rick looks back at Michonne then to the neighbourhood. He has an unreadable expression on his face. Michonne takes note of this, though.

"Trust me, with how shy Y/N is and how emotionally constipated Carl is, you won't have to worry about another baby Jude in a good long while." She pats his back, reassuring him.

He silently thanks her, trying to believe what she's saying. But with how loose discipline is with the state of the world, He doesn't know how much that statement holds up when none of them know what they're like behind closed doors.

You'll never know until you find out.

oh wow, this one was a long fic, huh? I hope the wait was worth it guys, I really liked how this turned out ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و also the end bonus was just a silly little thing, i'm not sure if I would want to expand on it, it was just a throwaway line that sounded ominous and i'm a sucker for that :3 anyways ty for all of the support you've been giving me, I can't believe it honestly— I just want to thank all of you lovelies ! stay tuned and tell me if you want to be tagged next time I post !

what did you think don't be a silent reader and let me know ! °ʚ(´꒳`)ɞ°

tags : @carlslvr

#carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes x fem!reader #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes x you #the walking dead #twd #the walking dead x reader #𓂃🖊 — florette's fics

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champagnefountains · 9 months ago

Note

So...Alastor went missing for a while after the extermination right? Would you be open to a story where the reader is taking care of Al after he gets back? Maybe still a little mad at him for vanishing, more worried about him being hurt...just the fall out that comes from not knowing if he was alive or not? Your first Lucifer story was wonderful!! You really have a solid foundation for this and I'm excited to see more from you!!

Aw, thank you so much! I'm really, really glad you enjoyed the Lucifer story! And omg, I love this idea...I live for angst so here's some more~!

ALASTOR - H.H.

A/N: They probably were able to rebuild the entire hotel in less than a day, but just to make it more dramatic, I made Alastor's disappearance two days long. Also, I'm not exactly too happy with the pacing here...so I apologise in advance ;-;

Word count: 2.8k+ words (I need to control myself...also unedited, sorta). Genre/other tags: Angst with good ending. OOC Alastor (I think?...sorry...). Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of blood. Talk about loss/death.

After the cancellation of this year’s extermination and Hell's victory against Heaven’s forces, Charlie and the team had spent the next couple of days repairing the damages caused. The team’s morale was as high as ever as they busied themselves reconstructing and making significant renovations to the hotel, their spirits brightening at the prospect of the potential influx of evil-doers to their establishment. There was no doubt that the hotel’s popularity had boomed, as there wasn’t a single soul in Hell that didn’t know about their contribution towards the annual culling.

However, there was one thing that had been plaguing your mind since the end of the bloodshed: Alastor's whereabouts. Everyone, including yourself, knew that the Radio-Demon was more than capable of looking after himself, considering his high-regarded reputation in all the Nine Circles. However, it’s been two days since the battle and there wasn’t a single trace of him anywhere. And as his significant other, it bothered you to no end. And it wasn’t like you could call him either – Alastor strictly refused to use a mobile phone or any electronic device, no matter how much you pried. He didn’t even make any attempts to reach out to you, whether it be from your own portable radio that he gifted you, or even a small note or letter. Absolutely nothing.

Currently, the hotel has just completed its final transformation with big thanks to Lucifer and Charlie's magical powers and sorcery. With your distress multiplying with every passing second, you couldn't bring yourself to be as excited as the others. You silently excused yourself from the group by the main entrance, wandering off to the furthest side of the building and turning the corner. With a trembling sigh, you leaned against the wall, covering your mouth with your hands as a sob wracks through your body.

You hadn't felt as anxious as you were, in so, so long. It must've been the build up from the months-long preparations made to fend off Heaven to now, that had you overwhelmed. Yes, there was no doubt that Alastor was powerful, but he fought Adam head on – the very first man – which you were able to only catch minor glimpses of in the midst of battle. And that was probably the last time you saw him.

You didn't want to think about the possibility of loss. Because there's no way, right? ...Right? The others were also quick to reassure you plenty of times, sensing your growing unease with each passing day. But it did little to nothing to help ease your nerves. Preoccupied in your own despair, you failed to sense an approaching figure among the shadows.

"'Cher? What are you doing, hiding all the way down here?" A static-like voice called out, causing you to stiffen, "you should be celebrating with the others! You wouldn't want to miss out on such an exciting time!" Eyes widening, you swiftly pivoted yourself to face them. Low and behold, the source of your worries stood before you, all in one piece, smiling down at you with his usual Cheshire-like grin.

"...Alastor?" You weakly called out. Your wavering tone caused the Overlord to raise a brow, mild confusion taking over him. "Yes, my dear?" He asks with a tilt of his head. But it wasn't until he took a closer look at your distressed features that his expression softened a faction. "Darling, you're upset...why are you crying?"

Despite your immense relief, you couldn't help but send him a baffled look. "Wha-Why am I crying? Are you serious, Al?" You spat back incredulously. "You've been gone for two days! Two days! And I didn't know where or-or how you were! Can’t you even imagine how I must've felt when I couldn't find you after the fight?” Alastor only blinked at your sudden outburst. “And you don't even think to tell any of us where you've gone off to! I thought...I-I thought..." Your voice died down as a sob threatened to leave your throat. "I-I thought you were gone."

"Oh, dear, don't be silly," Alastor softly chuckles, fixing his monocle, "it'll take more than those pesky, little angels to get rid of me!" His lanky legs strided towards you, his head shaking in mild amusement. He stops just before you, leaning forward to pat your head reassuringly. Sniffling, you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around his waist, burying your head into his chest. It gave you the reassurance you wanted and needed – it was proof that he was here with you, physically. However, the action unexpectedly causes Alastor to stiffen. You furrow your brows, lifting your head to send him a questioning look.

"...Al? Are you okay?" You worriedly ask, slowly unwrapping yourself to inspect him. Usually, Alastor didn't mind whether you initiated physical contact and vice versa, especially considering that you had been together for a while now. You then glanced behind him and your surroundings in caution – there didn't seem to be anyone watching either, knowing that he wasn't as fond of PDA.

As you pan your eyes towards his face, you were surprised to see a tensed expression. "N-Nothing to worry about, darling," he says through a forced smile, waving his hand dismissively before sharply pivoting himself the other direction. "Now, shall we go join the others now? They're probably wondering where we've both gone!" Nonchalant, he begins walking off with his hands crossed behind his back. That was...strange. Something was clearly wrong, you think to yourself.

"Al, wait!" You jog towards him, passing and stopping him in his tracks. "Is...is there something wrong?" You worriedly ask. "I just...I feel like you're not telling me something. I-If I made you uncomfortable, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to–"

You felt your words die in your throat as a noticeably large, wet patch began to form against his dress shirt. You let out a startled gasp. "Wha–you're‐you're bleeding!" You cry in panic, hands raising and twitching in front of you with uncertainty. His expression darkening, Alastor stubbornly shook his head, gently pushing you aside by the shoulder, "Like I said, it's nothing to worry about. It's not but a small scratch! I'll be fine, dear–"

"No, you're not fine!" You interjected, eyes blurring in tears and wavering. Your hands shook as you gawked at the growing stain on his shirt. At that, you didn't miss the way Alastor's lips twitched in presumed pain, as small beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. Gritting your teeth, you reach out to grab his wrist, preparing to pull him towards the hotel's entrance. "Come on, Al. W-We need to get you cleaned up–" A firm squeeze in your hand stopped you in your tracks as you turned back to face him, distressed.

"[Name]. I said I'll be fine," he sternly says, his voice contorting in static. Despite the sinister grin he displayed, it left you unfazed. You pinched your brows and balled your fists in frustration, staring at him in disbelief. "...What the hell is wrong with you?" You hiss at the deer-demon, "You're clearly not fine–you wouldn't be fucking bleeding right now if you were fine!"

Alastor clicked his tongue, "Darling, you're exaggerating too much, don’t you think? You don't need to fret—"

"Shut up! I-I don't give a damn who you think you are! Strong Overlord or not, I'm worried, okay?! I-I'll always be worried about you!" Angry tears began pouring from your eyes. "I was scared for my life when I didn't hear from you the past few days! I didn't know what happened to you–if you were okay or even alive! I-I couldn't even get a single blink of sleep last night, so don't fucking tell me to not worry!" Alastor's egotistical and prideful personality was not news to you and everyone else – you knew how stubborn he could be, and now was no exception. It was absolutely infuriating.

Alastor's grim expression eased at your growing distress, his stomach twisting uncomfortably as he watched you messily wipe your face. You took a brief moment to compose yourself, your breaths shaky and uneven. "Look, just–I don't want to argue right now, okay?" You hiccup, "i-if you don't want the other's seeing you like this, just...I-I don't know, teleport us inside the hotel somewhere. Just anything, so I can stitch you up properly."

Begrudgingly, Alastor manifested his microphone from thin air. He didn't have any room to argue with you here. He then softly taps the ground with the bottom of the stand twice, casting a group of black shadows from the ground. They surrounded you both in a circular-like motion, completely filling your sights with a black void. There was a brief gust of wind and it didn't take long until they dissipated, the both of you now standing in what was assumed to be your new shared room in the hotel – it was nearly identical to your previous one before the reconstruction, save for the new wallpaper.

"Remove your shirt. I'll get the kit," you immediately order as you point at the bed, gesturing for him to sit. You then disappear into the bathroom for a brief moment, grabbing the small first-aid kit under the sink before returning to the bedroom. Alastor had already sat himself down the edge of the bed, his dirty button-up and coat neatly folded on the floor, and his chest bare. You grimaced as you eyed the massive, fresh gash across his scarred chest, that was somewhat tended to with poor stitching.

You let out a disapproving sigh. "I expected your patching to be a little better than this,” you comment as you set the kit beside him, taking out some gauze and alcohol. Alastor rolls his eyes. "It's not everyday you get struck by an angelic weapon, dear," he shoots back sarcastically. There was a small stagger in your movement, your jaw clenching as a deep frown settled on your lips. So it was because of Adam that he's in this state, you sourly think. You try to not let the thought affect you too much as you begin disinfecting his wound.

While you were fixing him up, the both of you remained in complete silence. You actively chose to ignore his piercing gaze in the meantime, which practically burned through your skull as you maintained your focus solely on his wound. Your earlier frustrations didn't seem to simmer down either, deciding to keep quiet to prevent another one-sided shouting battle. As much as you loved Alastor, his lack of understanding towards your concerns vexed you to no end. Because, hypothetically speaking, what if he had actually died during his fight against Adam? If his body went missing, you were never going to find the closure you needed and were probably gonna go on with your life not knowing of his whereabouts. Your life would've been completely miserable with the constant grieving. And like Alastor smartly said, it wasn’t everyday that he’d be fighting a divine opponent, so definitive defeat wouldn’t be completely off of the table despite being quite powerful himself.

The mere thought brought fresh tears to your eyes, which you were quick to blink away. ‘No…there’s no point dwelling in the past and what-if’s,’ you reprimand yourself. Alastor’s here, after all. That's the only thing that matters right now. But regardless, you still remained upset.

After a while and now satisfied with your craft, you neatly applied a bandage around his chest and waist. "...Don't put too much pressure on it for a while," you quietly advised as you began packing the equipment away. You continued to ignore his gaze, knowing that you'd lose your composure if you were to look at him. Without sparing him a glance, you lazily chucked the kit by the bedside table and made your way towards the door. Shortly after, you left the room without another word.

You found yourself aimlessly walking on the balcony facing the bar, near the main entrance. There, you saw Charlie walking up the stairs adjacent from you, who was quick to catch your approaching form. "[Name], there you are! I was just looking for you!" She cheerily says, skipping towards you with excited steps. "Everything looks so, so amazing, can you believe it?! Oh, oh! We all saw Alastor, by the way! I told you he was going to be fine–erm, [Name]?" The Princess forced her banter to a halt upon spotting your swollen, red eyes.

"Hey, hey, what happened?" She softly asks, coming forth to rub your back. You open your mouth to speak but consciously stop to think your answer through. You knew not to speak a word of Alastor’s state at the moment, knowing it would desecrate his persona. So you decide to keep it short and vague.

"Alastor and I...we, uhm…had a small fight," you briefly explain with a tight-lipped smile. Charlie’s eyes softened in understanding. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did...do you wanna talk about it?” She kindly offers, holding your hand. You shake your head, “It’s alright, Princess. I’ll be okay in due time.” You didn’t want to dampen the overall mood and atmosphere, after all the hard work and sweat shed for this very moment. “Well, I mean, if you’re sure…” she hesitantly replies, giving you another quick look-over. “Say, how about we get you cleaned up a little and we head down and join the others? It’ll help clear your mind a little bit, yeah?”

Bless her heart, you think with a small smile. With a nod, Charlie dragged you to the nearby restroom, where you splashed your face with water and did minor touch-ups to look somewhat decent. Shortly after, you joined the others by the main lounge, who all cheered and welcomed you with open arms. All the while, your mind automatically wandered to Alastor, who you knew was dwelling somewhere within the hotel.

After a couple hours of celebration, you all decided to retire for the night, exhausted from the day's work. Charlie had sent you off with a small hug, wishing you luck as you slowly made your way back to your room. You felt your heart thump loudly against your ears as you spotted your room number in the distance, which only intensified as you reached for the knob and opened the door.

With a deep breath, you entered the room and to your surprise, you found Alastor where you had left him. However this time, he was already in his night-wear and was comfortably sitting upright and against the bed frame, legs under the covers and reading some book. He made no effort to acknowledge your presence as he hummed a random, sweet tune, licking a finger to flick a page of the novel he was supposedly engrossed in. You didn't know what would've irked you more – the fact that he wasn't addressing you right now or alternatively, if he were to go on about his day in his usual chirpy-self, and not bring up what had happened. Reciprocating his behaviour, you wordlessly went to the bathroom to do your usual night routine and changed into a comfortable set of pyjamas. When you were done, you beelined towards your side of the bed, stiffly slipping under the covers with your back facing him and pulling the covers close to your face.

The tension was dripping as the room filled with an uncomfortable silence. You unconsciously found yourself pacing your own breaths, as if you were worried that you were breathing a sound wave too loud. You also didn't move a single inch from your spot, remaining stagnant like a statue. It remained that way for a short while, unable to find a single blink of sleep or tiredness, just as you did the past couple days.

“Darling, I know you’re awake…” Alastor says, finally breaking the silence as he shuts his book with a soft thud, placing it by the bedside table. There was a brief pause, as if he was waiting for you to say something, but you didn’t. You listen intently in silent anticipation as you dug yourself further into your pillow.

“I…I wanted to apologise for my behaviour earlier. It wasn’t in my intentions to upset you,” he continues, “I didn’t mean to carelessly dismiss your concerns the way I did. I understand that you’re merely worried for me. After all, if had it been you in my place instead, I would’ve acted the same way, if not more. And I’m sorry for troubling you these past few days. It was due to my carelessness that made you disregard your own health and caused you so much distress. With that, I want to express my utmost gratitude to you for looking after me despite it all. I…I hope you can forgive me, darling.”

It was simple and straight to the point. And yet, his words struck a chord with you, causing a new onset of tears to flow and dampen the bed sheets. Alastor wasn’t one to easily admit his faults and apologise the way he did, so his words had so much of an impact on you. Though you had your own few questions to ask him, you suppose that this was enough for the time being as you didn’t want another day to go by, remaining in conflict with each other. You turn yourself to face him, sitting up and tearfully looking up at him. Silent, Alastor looked back down at you in a hopeful manner, his usual grin on his face. “O-Of course, I forgive you,” you quietly replied as you carefully hugged his side, “I-I just…I want you to look after yourself better. I-I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself if I had lost you then.”

Huffing in relief, he softly snickers into your hair, running one of his claws through its strands. “Like I said, you won’t lose me, my dear. I’ll even wreak havoc across all of Hell to get back to you,” he cheesily coos as he nuzzles his nose into your neck. You wetly chuckle at his remark, leaning into him closer. “That’s quite a huge commitment to make, Al. You promise you gonna keep your word for it?” you jokingly reply, playfully poking at his chest. Grin widening, Alastor boops your nose with a single digit, “that’s a guarantee, darling.”

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor

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prettyboykatsuki · 2 months ago

Text

give yourself up, my treat | h. sakura

✮ tags ; afab + fem!reader (referred to as girlfriend, descriptions of makeup and nails), implied to be shorter than sakura, omorashi, piss!!!! / wetting, humiliation, lots of crying / embarrassment, praise kink, somewhat public, femdom, depictions of subspace, d/s dynamics, like... soft loving sex as aftercare but this is honestly pure kink lol sorry, 18+

✮ wc ; 4.6k (i dont want to talk about it man)

✮ a/n ; this is piss kink. like. full stop. full stop omorashi. im warning you now that this is piss kink to the highest extent. srry sakura . finally let him top and it was after making him piss himself. rip

also!! while sakura is describing how shameful he feels he is doing this all very willingly. they have a safeword but sakura does not feel any need to use it.

✮ synopsis ; sakura lets you push his limits any way you please.

Sakura listens to everything you say. Like some kind of moron.

Can’t help himself really, as much as it irritates him to admit.

That’s always just been his instinct. Any time he finds himself in unfamiliar waters, he leans into that as much as possible. He’s survived a long time by trusting his intuition and a longstanding distrust of other people. It speaks a lot to someone's character usually if Sakura is even mildly inclined to trust them.

He isn’t sure if it’s his intuition that drives him to follow your order without question, but it’s a strong enough pull he finds he can’t help himself even when he so, so badly wants to resist it.

It’s not Sakura’s fault. It’s not really yours either. That’s just how you’ve always been. How its always been.

(Once, well before you and Sakura were a thing - Nirei had made an observation about you. Called you disarming. Suo laughed and agreed before adding that it felt a little misleading to describe you that way even if it was true.

You had just moved into the area after a disciplinary case in your hometown. You’d beat up another student who was bullying your friend, got expelled and moved out on your own after the fact. Cut ties with your family and everything.

Despite the general air of mystery around you, there was something about you that Sakura felt pulled him in. For some reason, you never triggered his fight or flight even when it was way easier to do it. For some reason you made him comfortable, always knowing his limits and rarely teasing him even for laughs.

An undeniable magnetism to you appealed to him a lot more than it repulsed him. )

Over the years, Sakura has mulled a lot over your relationship. How you approached him at fifteen with a cool, carefree attitude that left him uselessly infatuated against his will. How you took your time in getting to know him for years. Later, how you confessed. Roped him into the relationship so seamlessly that by the time things happened for real, Sakura felt totally unnerved by how inevitable—how deliberate you were about it right from the start. Something that occurred to him too late.

You’ve always been good at placating his many troubles too, even when you’re the cause of them. His lingering paranoia, his serious attitude, his inability to deal with compliments. You handle all of it with such grace it’s like those parts of him don’t even exist. Maybe it’s because you went through something similar to him, but you understand all of it well - though you dealt with it in the opposite way he does.

Your carefree acceptance has proved to have a good influence on him. He’s less anxious and more relaxed around you. He always feels like listening to you, and always does - and after dating for four years, he’s rarely mad about it.

Sakura always listens to everything you say because some part of him is conditioned too. His body does it instinctively, placing more trust in your words than he does in even himself. You’ve built that in him.

As troublesome as you can be, you’ve yet to lead him astray.

Embarrassing as it is, a long relationship has instilled a sense of obedience to you and his… love for you that runs deeper even than his intuition.

That’s why, when you tell Sakura to—

“Drink,”

—he does it without hesitation.

He drinks another cup of tea in one gulp before wiping the corner of his lip as you smile at him very briefly.

He no longer feels a clear sense of how much time has passed, despite the fact he’s currently very sober.

Cramped against the wall, Sakura’s head spins as you lean your weight against his other side and chat with Umemiya over drinks. An airy smile on your lips and gentle look in your eye. Damn you.

His chest heaves as the thick, warm air enters his lungs and stifles his already difficult breathing further. Dim lights overhead cast shadow underneath the table and only barely illuminate the topside well enough to see the remnants of a long night. Empty glasses, canisters of beer and shochu as well as a variety of small plates cleared of everything apart from stray crumbs littering its surface.

Around him, his loved ones part into small groups and chat amongst each other. Sakura has no idea what the topic of conversation is anymore. He hasn’t heard anything other than the sound of your voice in his head for an hour and hasn’t spoken up for the last thirty minutes. When someone tries to call him into conversation, he mumbles something before you speak for him and no one bats an eye at this for which Sakura’s fucking grateful.

It’s so hard to think of anything when his bladder feels this painfully full.

His head is filled with white noise, red flush crawling even further along his neck until it dusts along his nose - up to the ends of his ears. Under the table, your fingers drift subtly to his inner thigh and push inward. Sakura winces, biting back a pathetic little whimper and glaring at you weakly from the corner of his eyes.

This is torture.

You aimlessly draw something in his thigh with your fingers before smiling gently as you nudge another cup of lukewarm tea his way. Leaning in while your conversation partners are all distracted by ordering something else, you whisper into his ear. The light warmth of your breath makes him shake, painful pressure in his abdomen steadily increases as the liquid starts to travel down his throat. Your hand is careful as it slides underneath his black t-shirt and lightly grazes his skin. It’s dark enough to not be obvious. The dull ends of your manicured nails scratch lightly at the soft, lower swell of his belly before the pads of your fingers push hard into his core.

His body gives into the pressure, eyes widening with fear at the sudden sensation. He barely stifles a gasp before shooting you another mean look you easily ignore.

“Haruka,” You hand him his cup again, filled to the very brim with liquid. “Drink some more tea,”

He grits his teeth.

“Fucksake. I can’t—I can’t.”

You raise an eyebrow as your hand smooth down his thighs. Your lips quirk up into a smile so smug it nearly rocks him out of his anger.

“Is that right?”

A test. He’s always welcome to give up. He knows that. He knows that if he does you won’t hold it against him either. You want him to do it because he wanted too, always. He hates that about you.

Sakura grinds his teeth and takes a hold of the ceramic tea cup, knocking the lukewarm tea back in one go. Your expression morphs into something pleased and endeared from the corner of his eyes and his heart starts to flutter. He isn’t sure if he’s thankful or not for all the people around, for the environment.

It gives you free reign to lean even further into him and whisper the words he’s been desperately aching to hear all evening.

“Good boy,” You hum, careful and deliberate. A innocent kiss gets placed on his cheek, the lipgloss dampening his skin. “You’re being so, so strong.”

The words him melt him unwittingly. From the top of his head to the tips of his toes, the rush of affection threads through his nerves and unwinds his sense of danger further. Enough that he might slip completely. He has to hold it until the clock hits midnight. Just until then. You’ll take a cab home and Sakura will relieve himself finally, finally. It’s seventeen more minutes until he can go home and empty his bladder. He can’t screw up now.

This is the first time you’ve made Sakura hold in public. You’ve always been considerate enough to do it at home where the safety net of your mutual understanding and familiar bathroom are there even if he fails to keep it in. Even if he pissed himself in your living room or in your bedroom - it can be dry cleaned or tossed. Most of all there’s no one to explain it too.

In public it’s different. He could pretend that he’s drunk and while it wouldn’t be less fucking embarrassing - at least it’s understandable. Sakura is sure that’s part of the reason you chose a place like this do to attempt such a public play. To give him the out, just in case.

But regardless, the shame and humiliation of not being able to hold it in front of everyone he knows is a threat. It’s just so goddamn embarrassing. So horrible and awful. The anxiety makes his stomach churn but he can’t focus on a damn thing else.

He has to go. He has too.

He always whines about how much he hates this but you both know he doesn’t entirely mean it. It’s not that he likes this miserable sensation, as much as he likes how you get off on it. How sadistic it turns his unusually kind and light-hearted girlfriend.

You’ve always relished in Sakura’s shame like the freak you are. Pure pleasure on your face and absolute adoration as you watched Sakura break apart slowly and guide him through it with hushed whispers. Watching the light color of his jeans or joggers stain dark from wetness or watch him be jostle around enough to almost piss but not enough to give him actual relief. Teasing him until he trickles and makes his own boxers damp enough to be uncomfortable—to be cognizant of the fact he’s pissed himself helplessly while not being able to take care of it on his own. Not without your explicit permission.

You’ve done all sorts of play together. Usually, you have and indoor date and movie night where Sakura knocks back a few liters over of water over long few hours and gets increasingly desperate. And you get him hard during that, always sure to tease him until he’s just on the edge of wetting himself.

You always shower together afterwards. Yet, you don’t hesitate to touch Sakura’s soft, piss soaked cock with reverence either way. Quick to praise him, whether or not he’s failed or succeeded in holding it. Despite how shameful the whole thing is and how much he protested it at the start - some part of him deep, deep down can admit he sort of likes it. Or at least, he likes the pleasure he gets from you when you take the reigns.

It feels good, though he really resents even kind of admitting that. The relief from holding and holding and holding and then finally getting to let go is just as good every time. Pissing himself always feels good in the moment.

And you’re always so aroused by him after. He likes that way more than everything else being frank. Likes the way you get wet over his humiliation. Likes how softly you stroke and lick his cock when he’s all cleaned up, eyes lidded and full of pure love as he gets to cum too - another reward for holding in so well. He loves the warm whispers of good boy against his neck and shoulders when you finally sink down on his length and the way you feel when he holds you in his lap and buries his face into your shoulder.

All of that feels so much better when he does what he’s told and he likes listening to you. So even though it’s usually against his best interest in conditions like these - he bites his tongue and continues to drink until he feels like he’s sating your appetite, silently ignoring the ballooning in his bladder only getting worse with each pass of breath.

And he drinks, and drinks, and drinks until the clock hits midnight.

You’re deliberately brutal in the last seventeen minutes. In that time, you make Sakura down at least another half liter of liquid and continue to tease him all the way until the izakaya closes. He’s antsy by the time the night ends. His friends slowly disperse outside and go home in different directions until it’s just the two of you waiting for a taxi to come pick you up.

Sakura is counting the fucking seconds.

He needs to go, but he doesn’t want to piss himself in the taxi. His legs are crossed, shifting his weight anxiously as you hold his hand and smile plainly like nothing in the world is going on.

Another two minutes until the cab arrives, another twelve to go home. You hum to yourself as you reach your hand up and caress the back of his neck, palm brushing the trimmed hair and sliding slowly over his rapid pulse and flush skin. With no one around, you don’t bother hiding your intentions. You slide your hand just into the waistband of his black jeans, just above his soft cock.

His brows raise high as your eyes lock.

And then you push at that angle - push hard enough he feels a slight trickle. Not enough to stain his light-wash jeans, but enough that the fabric of his underwear is noticeably damp. Sweat forms at his temple from a mix of stress and shame - eyes screwed closed as he curses. He’s afraid to look at you but does anyway.

You’re smiling just as warmly as he thought you’d be. His voice cracks under the weight.

He thinks this is the hardest it’s ever been. The pressure is so much stronger when there’s stakes and Sakura is mildly horrified. And he has to go so bad, so bad he can’t think of anything else.

“Fucking—,” He crumbles, feeling shameful and red faced and lightheaded as he admits this to you with trembling lips and terrified eyes. “Dunno if I can make it home, I need to - “

You stand in front of him and push up slightly to kiss him. It’s a nice distraction. Your soft, sweet lips salve his nerves just a touch. You gaze up at him lovingly.

“It’s okay baby, promise. Home soon.”

The words of protest die on his lips. Despite being taller than you, Sakura finds himself feeling so incredibly small. So incredibly helpless and so, so dependent on you in that moment he hardly knows what to do with himself. It usually takes him longer to get like this. You’re the only that can bat for him if he really does wet himself. He’s doing everything you say, being obedient, chasing after the familiar high of the aftermath and it’s sinking him so deep into that headspace. He feels suspended in air.

He grips your hands a little tighter and you smile at him. His brows furrow.

“Wanna hold me a little baby? On the way home.”

He nods feeling as tender as ever and you nod back, kissing his temple.

“Mm. Good boy. It’s okay.”

He hides a whimper into your hair as he hugs you from behind, a light laugh leaving your lips when he does. Two minutes feels like two hours.

The taxi pulls up not long after. You open the doors for him and talk to the driver, giving him your address. Something plays on the radio that gets turned up to give you and Sakura some room as the driver makes way. It’s a short, short drive over to your apartment. Just seven minutes.

As soon as the driver steps on the gas, Sakura turns his gaze on you pleadingly. And you smile at him, shifting to lay a little against his chest. He buries his face against your shoulder in measured breaths as your other hand comes up to play with his hair.

“You’re extra whiny today,” You whisper without any malice. A doting edge to your words. “Can’t help it can you? We’re almost home, baby.”

Sakura bites back another whimper, mustering as much sense into his speech as he can though he hardly wants to talk. Hardly wants to think, either.

“So close, Haruka. Just a little more and then you can go.” You nudge him with your nose “Such a good boy.”

“So full,” The words come out hot, on a heavy breath as his hand grips your waist tighter. “Can’t—no more,”

“Shh,” You soothe. The shared affection between you looks like normal PDA through the reflection in the drivers mirror and it makes him feel even more self-conscious. “Three more minutes, Haru. A minute or two to walk in. Two minutes in the elevator, and another two to get the door unlocked. Nine minutes. You’ve held it for so long. I know you can hold it in a little longer.”

He grits his teeth and closes his eyes. “Tell me I’m good.”

“So good baby.” You nuzzle against the crown of his head. “So, so good.”

The next few minutes feel like a complete blur.

One more light until the driver pulls into the parking lot of your complex, politely wishing you goodnight before pulling away. Sakura nearly has to lean on you as you walk into the empty elevator and take the trip upstairs. His grip on your hand is tight as you lead him through the corridor, grips even tighter as you fish your keys out from your purse and unlock the door.

The sound of the lock undoing makes Sakura feel so relieved. You usher him in carefully, his thighs tight and knees nearly buckling from the pressure of his bladder. He’s so full it’s painful, so full it aches and it’s so much he can’t think about anything except that and how much he wants to be free from it. He's delirious and sweaty. He just needs to go so badly.

He tries to rush to the bathroom but jostling around while he walks doesn't work out well.

A looming sense of panic sets in immediately.. He knows what's coming instinctively - the uncontrollable relaxation on his muscles when his body has reached his limit. He looks up at you pleadingly, though he’s not sure what he’s even asking you for.

He can’t think. Barely moving as something starts to unfold inside of him, crashing into him all at once.

It’s obvious that he’d start to feel the urge to piss when he's comfortable at hom, finally in his own space but—

He shakes his head, looking at you with blown out eyes.

“I can’t,” He hiccups as he shuffles closer and closer to the living room, teary at his lashline Trying his best to get to the bathroom and failing. “Can’t make it to the—fuck, please, I can’t. It’s.—It’s gonna, I’m gonna -“

Your eyes widen in understanding as you crouch just at the entrance alongside him, petting his back.

“Oh sweetheart,” Your voice is the softest, sweetest sound he’s heard all night. “Poor thing. Shh, it’s okay baby. Let go. It’s alright, I promise. You did so good.”

Something in him...breaks. Shatters.

His eyes go wide before they blur with tears and piss leaks from between his legs unwittingly.

Sakura is reduced down to sobbing. His whole body shudders so hard, he’s knees buckling under the weight as the pressure finally stops. He can’t help but listen, even though he’s so, so ashamed of himself.

Fuck. Fuck, it feels so good.

Sakura finally, finally lets go. He crumbles under his own weight, shrinking down to his knees as he feels it soak through the layers in a hot rush between his legs. His clothes dampen and drench as he lets out long breaths. You card your fingers through his hair as he sobs through the endless stream. It feels like it’s never going to stop. He can’t open his eyes to look but he can feel the puddle forming underneath him, how it soaks into his jeans and shoes and makes them wet. How ashamed and humiliated he feels being completely unable to stop himself from wetting himself. It flows and flows and flows, testament to just how much he had to drink.

The entirety of his pant leg is soaked with his own piss and mess. Embarrassment makes him curl up as he’s unable to stop once he starts. It goes on for so long. But it feels so good to let it out. The sheer sense of relief is more of what’s making him sob than anything else.

Piss trickles down his legs as he heaves through deep breaths and short sobs. He feels your hands cup his face as you bend in a squat, unconcerned with the way it splashes against your shoes or tights. When he finally gets his vision back as you swipe his tears away, you’re looking at him with such reverence he wants to cry all over again.

“You did so good baby,” You praise, warming him. You kiss him on the lips first before brushing against the crown of his head. “So good. You’re so perfect. Let’s get you cleaned up, hm? Give you you your reward.”

He sniffles as he stares at you. “You’re such a damn pervert.”

You laugh a little. “Mm, that’s true. Sorry, baby.”

Clean-up is always less of a hassle then he expects it to be.

Maybe because you have a routine for it now, but it doesn’t take very long at all. You do most of the heavy lifting during it which only worsens the feeling helplessness Sakura has been experiencing for the last few hours. He doesn’t make any effort to get away or out from that headspace, though it dies down with time. The promise of a reward has been the only thing keeping him level for hours now and he’d be damned to let it all go to waste after he worked so hard.

After a long, warm shower and change of clothes - Sakura finally gets what he wants more than anything.

Affection and attention.

In the safety of your bedroom, Sakura feels particularly floaty as he holds you in your lap. Lazy and worn out, he nuzzles himself against your neck as he feels your naked torso squish against his. He’s too embarrassed to tell you verbally like this that he loves you and hopes the nuzzling does the job for him.

Your nails feel good on his scalp as you card them again through his wet hair. Your skin smells nice too, and you’re soft and warm. The mellow thump of your heartbeat soothes him as you shower him in endless praise. It’s usually impossible for you to do this. Only when he’s bone tired like this do you get the chance.

Too embarrassing to let you do it unless he’s worked hard for it like he did today.

Sakura feels his length slide against your pussy and lets out a soft noise. You’re always so wet during this kind of play. It makes him feel wanted in a way he finds cringeworthy and doesn’t dare voice. Still, he doesn’t mind the feeling - aimlessly sliding his hips up and against your slick folds with a huff.

You do him the favor of moving. Copying the gesture by sliding yourself up and against his cock without penetration. His fingers tighten on your hips, cock painfully sensitive as he whimpers. Pre-cum leaks from his tip, weepy and spent and red as he humps against you even harder - lost in the sensation.

“Wanna cum like this Haruka? Don’t need to ask permission.”

“Nghh.”

He nods wordlessly as you grind yourself down harder onto him. His tip passes over your clit enough times to make you sigh pleasantly, and that sound drives him over the edge. Thick ropes of white cum spills against your soft pussy as Sakura moans and shudders violently. Despite how close you are, he can’t help but feel like it’s not close enough.

Maybe you sense it, because you do him the favor of sliding yourself onto his half hard cock without so much as another word. It’s still not enough for him, but it sates him better than before at least. He wraps his arms around you hard and squeezes tight. Just for a little while.

He scowls a little as he looks up at you, sobering up enough to form a sentence after spending some time hugging you. “Have you cum yet?”

“Don’t worry about it, baby.”

“Shut up,” He replies with no bite and a scowl. Another flush crawls across his face. “I can make you feel good too.”

You raise your eyebrow.

“Sounds like you’re declaring war not trying to give me an orgasm. I’m glad I made you feel good though,” You add cheekily. He flusters immediately, instinctively getting aggressive but not wanting to shove you off of him even as you break out into a fit of laughter.

“Fuck off. I d-don’t feel good doing that weird shit with you. I only do it because - “

You interject. “Because you love me? That’s a better reason to you? How sweet Haru.”

He frowns deeply.

“Be quiet, you—don’t put words in my mouth, damn it.”

“Pfft, okay. I’m sorry. I hope I’m not pushing you too much.”

He huffs a little, pouting as he goes back to pressing his cheek to your skin. His voice is a touch softer than it was before.

“I don’t do things for bullshit reasons. Stupid.”

“I’m glad, then. Even so, you had a tough time today hm? So I’ll let you fuck me as much as you like. Just do whatever you feel like.”

“I wanna…return to the favor or whatever.” He says after thinking on it. “Just… wanna make you feel good too. Like….” His voice goes small “…You make me feel. Or whatever.”

You smile at him. He can feel it, not see it. He’s avoiding looking at your face since he’s sure you’re all goofy and loveydovey.

“The floor is all yours. No rush though okay? I like spoiling you and we’ve got all night.”

Sakura scowls, casting his gaze down at the bedroom floor. “….I love you.”

You smile and press another kiss to his head. He feels so content he wants to die. Your reply comes easily anyway.

“I love you too, Haruka.”

#piss cw #writing tag #sakura x reader #sakura smut #windbreaker x reader #windbreaker smut #tbh this is not worth tagging its simply too niche but who cares

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moonpetrichors-blog · 2 years ago

Note

you're currently carrying 'avatar x reader' with your absolutely amazing works, so i have another request for you, love, if that's alright <33

no idea how to properly start this, but basically neteyam and y/n are a thing- and even though y/n is like super grateful for his protection, lately she's been feeling just like another of his many responsibilities, not a partner. so they grow a bit distant, to that point where even his family notices, and when they try to talk it out they get into an argument. pretty much angst (because i love it👹👹👹) !!!!!!!!!!!!! and it's totally up to you if it ends with fluff or angst. oh and i thought maybe it could take place when they arrive to the metkayina clan, because it would mean y/n left everything behind just for neteyam (and his amazing family ofc🤞🤞🤞), but the way he begun to treat her, makes her think she might regret that decision= more aNGST‼️‼️but that's up to you- whatever you're more comfortable with :)) okay, byeee!!! have a nice day!!!

(i'm @introvert-pansexual btw😧)

Not A Responsibility

Tags: Neteyam x Omaticaya!Reader, Oneshot, Fem!Reader, Angst, Fluff At The End (Not Really)

Warnings: Tiny Bit Toxic, Mentioned Jealousy

Ever since you left the Omaticaya clan for your boyfriend, you’ve felt suffocated by his overprotective nature. You’re his partner, not just another one of his responsibilities or trouble-seeking siblings. And it hurts, knowing that he treats you like you are less his mate than burden. You think you might regret leaving your home for him.

UR SO NICE OMG😭😭❤️❤️ I love every request I get HSJQISIWJ some days my brain is just poop cause i cant think up ideas so these are nice to get ☠️☠️ also yuh I kinda inferred that u switched accs bc i stalk my followers LMAOAOAO anywayss this deffo isnt my best work but ive been kinda tired lately so like sorry if its not that great 😭😭

* ˚ ✦ 1096 Words • Read below the cut

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-╰┈➤ ❝ [08/01/23] ❞

You and Neteyam have been dating. For a long time, actually.

You grew up together, and the tight friendship you built inevitably developed into feelings of attraction. You were anticipated to be mated to one another, and the Sully family cherished you.

Jake used to torment his son before you began dating. He'd make remarks about how you two reminded him of him and Neytiri, and how Neteyam had to entice you with the superb wooing genes he inherited from him. Neytiri would slap him on the back of the head and order him to be quiet. However, she couldn't argue with Jake's teasing. A lovely girl like yourself resembled a second daughter to her; if her son didn't put a ring on it, she would drag him by the ear.

You felt your throat constrict and your eyes burn with tears the day Neteyam informed you Jake was forcing his family to pick up and move. How were you supposed to just carry on and forget about your relationship?

You couldn't. As a result, you left with him. You would fly for a thousand days on an Ikran, cross vast oceans, and abandon your home a million times more for Neteyam and his family. Neteyam considered himself extremely fortunate to have you.

However, after finally settling in with the Metkayina, you began to sense a twinge of foreboding. You felt homesick, and you knew that relocating to a whole new clan would be difficult. Neteyam appeared to be taking it the hardest though, so you did not want to complain.

You noted how his shoulders tensed more frequently, or how he wore a faint grimace when alone. You were outsiders in this place, and they treated you as such. Neteyam couldn't help but be uptight whenever the olo'eyktan's son harassed his siblings, but he lost his composure when he sought to bother you.

Or, more accurately, flirted with you. Neteyam had a reputation for being a jealous boyfriend. You and his family were fully cognizant of this, but to the casual onlooker, he always appeared calm and collected. When Aonung penetrated your personal space, you recognized how Neteyam would surreptitiously linger nearby, or extended an arm around you. It drove him insane.

When he first started acting that way, you would coo at him and envelop him in your embrace while calling him sweet. You believed his protectiveness over you was adorable, and it was flattering to say the least. Neteyam, on the other hand, had nothing to be concerned about. You were solely interested in him.

...

Regardless of your unconditional affection, it seemed that the more Neteyam stayed in the Awa'atlu village, the more awful he grew.

Irrespective of Aonung's unwanted attention (which had long since faded), nothing made Neteyam happy anymore. When you tried to kiss him, he would either accept it reluctantly or brush you away. If you wished to spend time with him, he would acquiesce, but would eventually talk about his siblings or babysit. Nonetheless, he would be fiercely protective of where you went or what you did.

You couldn't condemn Neteyam for being nervous and tense all the time, but it seemed that no matter what difficulties you were encountering in your relationship, he began to treat you as if you were just another one of his trouble-making siblings. Another chore added to his long list of responsibilities.

Neteyam’s protection used to be charming, but it was now just smothering. It seemed like you were so distant from your boyfriend, yet also so close to him. You began feeling less like his partner, yet it also caused you to feel guilty when you were emotional in front of him. You knew you had no right to complain because you left the Omaticaya clan by your own volition. How could you grumble about it when your lover was enduring greater struggles?

This was a recipe for disaster.

...

You no longer felt comfortable communicating your concerns to your boyfriend. Each time you sought to bring up your reservations about how Neteyam was treating you, he was too preoccupied with his own life to give much heed to your conversation or relationship.

You eventually gave up on your efforts to work it out. If he were to behave distant from you, you would respond with the same energy. You two gradually drifted away, the gulf between you expanding by the day. Neteyam's family became quite alarmed when they noticed how seldom you two were interacting nowadays.

Jake and Neytiri encouraged Neteyam to try to spend some quality time with you again, and that he could set his other obligations aside. They'd maintain a close eye on their other children so Neteyam wouldn't have to fret about them.

He agreed begrudgingly, unable to say no to his parents. You were thrilled when he sought you out for a casual date, the first in a long time. There was a nagging whisper in the rear of your mind that gnawed at you, warning you he just wasn't the same, but you dismissed it. He'd come to find you, hadn't he?

...

You were deflated throughout the duration of your date. The longer time passed, the more you could feel the ominous mood rattling deep in your bones. During your time together, all Neteyam could think about was how much this move had stressed him out, and now he had to be concerned about paying you attention as well. It was apparent from his expression that he was not enjoying himself.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

You snapped at his indifferent attitude. “Can you stop zoning out and actually listen to me for once?”

If Neteyam was trying to fake a smile before, he definitely wasn’t anymore. “What do you mean? This whole entire date I’ve been only listening to you!”

You scoffed at this. His mind was in a whole other place for the entire duration of it. “You never have time for me anymore, and when you do, you act like I’m some burden on your to do list!”

Neteyam felt his blood go hot. Before he could stop himself, he began to yell. “It’s not my fault I can’t give you attention all the time! My parent’s are always putting pressure on me to make sure everyone’s looked after and well behaved, including you!”

Then, his voice dropped to a cruel whisper. “Do you think I wanted to go on this date?”

That was the juncture at which you felt so enraged that you couldn't prevent the tears from cascading down your flaming cheeks. Neteyam's countenance didn't alter in response to your outburst, which only served to make you angrier.

You practically screamed at him. “You’re such a dickhead! You’ve changed, Neteyam.” You began sobbing.

“The only reason I’m mad isn’t because you don’t give me enough attention, it’s because every time we’re together you completely neglect my feelings! You make everything about you!”

He remained still as you wiped your angry tears away, then jutted a finger against his chest. “For someone who acts like they’re always looking after everyone else, you’re so incredibly selfish with me.”

In the face of your harsh comments, Neteyam remained silent and unmoving. He was speechless; he didn't know what to say. The rage was still coursing through his veins, but all he could do was hearken to your never-ending shouts.

Your voice dropped an octave, and you glared into his eyes which you once looked so fondly into. “I’m not another responsibility of yours. I regret ever following you here. If I knew you’d turn out like this, I would’ve saved myself the heartache and found a new partner instead of leaving everything behind for someone that won’t even give me the time of day. You could at least try to act happy to be around me.”

That made his heart break, and he could feel the tears beginning to gather in his eyes too. He couldn’t believe you would have ever found it in you to say that to him. “Fine, do what you want. I tried to spend time with you, and you turned it into an argument.”

He pivoted on his heel, and stormed away from you on the threshold of tears. When he was far enough away, he let the tears flow.

Your voice carried from halfway across the beach. “Fine then, if you want me so bad, I guess I’ll go!”

You, too, turned your back on him and dashed away to find somewhere to cry privately. You felt like such a child.

...

It was growing dark, and eclipse was approaching.

You still hadn’t returned to the marui you shared with the Sully family, and Jake was beginning to get worried. “Where’s Y/N?”

That question was obviously directed towards Neteyam, but he remained sulking instead of replying.

Neytiri’s patience was thinning with her son’s out of character behavior. “That girl doesn’t know her way around the Awa’atlu village. She could be lost!”

Jake rubbed the bridge of his nose, glancing at the sky. He shared Neytiri’s sentiment, as his son still wasn’t talking. What the hell happened on your date?

Although Neteyam appeared furious, he was actually feeling quite guilty. Your reality check tugged at his heartstrings, and now you could be injured, or worse, lost, because he told you to be. He sprung from his seat and raced out the marui, unable to sit still any longer.

Jake's shouts for his son to return at that instant went unfulfilled. Even if Neteyam was angry with you, he was still afraid that something awful would happen, and he'd never forgive himself if it did.

Neteyam called your name as he ran throughout the village. However, no matter how much terrain he covered, or how many times he bellowed your name into the frigid night air, your voice did not respond. He was sweating nervously now, terrified about not being able to locate you. What if he never found you?

Those fears, however, were quickly dispelled into the wind whipping behind him as he hurried towards the sound of sniffling behind a nearby tree. Neteyam scratched the back of his neck, unsure what to do. As he drew near to your weeping figure, he stepped on and snapped a twig, capturing your attention.

You spun around to investigate the source of the noise, only to discover that it was your idiot boyfriend. Neteyam urged you to relax, then sighed and settled besides you.

Before you could protest against him taking a seat next to you, he hugged you tightly and apologized.

“I’m sorry. I’m the way I am right now because I don’t want anything bad happening to you, or my siblings. I can’t imagine ever losing you.”

You let your rage disappear, leaning into his embrace as he continued to talk.

“I know I’ve been a real idiot lately, and I’ll try to show up more in our relationship. My personal problems aren’t your fault.”

Your prior resentment faded as he brushed your tears away with his thumb, and you buried your face in his chest, allowing your arms to wrap around his midriff.

“I’m sorry for saying I wished I stayed behind and found someone new. That was a lie, I’d never be able to move on.”

Neteyam felt his chest tighten at your words, and merely hugged you tighter. “I’ll never hurt you again.”

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happypotato48 · 5 months ago

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We Are: Fighting Toxic Masculinity With The Power Of Friendship

Wow, who would have thought that it We Are of all things that make me write this, i really need to expand my horizons.

I will mostly be talking about Phum and Toey in this post, on how i feel related to certain aspects of their characters that related to toxic masculinity and how that ties in to the overarching theme of this show, Friendships.

So i've mentioned before that the way Toey talks is very noticeable, let me elaborate that further. both the way Toey use his name as a first person pronoun and his mannerism are very childish but its not just that. becuse of toxic masculinity and societal norms in thailand it's more acceptable for women to talks like that and use childish pronouns than men. for an example the pronoun Nu. boys are expected to drops that when they reach certain age (some don't and continuing to use it exclusively with their parents especially their mothers, including your truly.) cause of that the way Toey talks also can be read as feminine + satang performance made him feels like a very visibly queer character to me.

And here i think We Are strength come in cause the show never break its bubble but alluded that Toey had been bullied in highschool. and it so heartwarming to me knowing that Phum and Fang stood up and protect him then, and now with this current friends group who never one even remotely mentioned or tease him in anyways and ready to protect and fight for Toey's happiness, its give me all the feels. Toey can be himself and never felt like he needs to change and conform to the standard of masculinity because he have men in his life whose said no you are perfect the way you are.

Now Phum oh my dear baby boy. as first i was not vibing at all with PhumPeem as main couple but after the slow burn of 11 episodes they had won me over wholeheartedly. first thing first though i don't know anyone mentioned this before but the word that got translate as "slave" is เบ๊ *Be which in this school context have more of a bullying vibe and feel less harsh than the word slave. anyways we learned that Phum had a lonely childhood abroad far aways from his family and how stuffed toys are his only comfort at the time. as the start of the show Phum because of his childhood had walls up around himself manifested as toxic asshole exterior. and i loved that it not just only because of Peem that those walls came down, the show made the point again and again by having Phum said that he loves spending time with Peem and his friends that being with them makes him feels at ease.

And that why i think this show is goodish (it still a bit trash but hey i love it anyway.) and not a show that has nothing to say because how much it give important to the friendships. the show clearly stated that friends are as important as lovers and through friendship us queer guys can protect and better ourselves with each other. that male friendships can be more then what the world told us to be.

These are the reasons why i think We Are is one of my favorite BLs this year. because the nature of it never breaking the bubble its, for one hour made me feel like i can breathe, that for one hour i don't have to think about queer truth that hurts sometime and live in this queer fantasy. and i appreciated that eminently when i have to leave that bubble and face the music.

tagging for reasons >.> @bengiyo

#we are the series #thai bl #bl drama #dumb boy rambles #dumb boy unhinged thoughts

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the-kipsabian · 10 months ago

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wrestling fic writers!!

i have decided to be the change i wanna see, so lets do a nice little thing for each other, as a community full of incredible and talented writers. yes this is writer specific only, but thats cause thats where the main problem of people not interacting with creative works lies in this fandom as far as i can tell and have seen people talking about it especially in the last couple of months

if you read this, please add links to your written works. it can be just a single fic youre really proud of, your writing blog, your writing tag, your ao3 account, anything where your works can be found

and if you leave your link here, PLEASE check out someone else that has left their works, and interact with them. leave them a comment, even just a kudos, REBLOG their fic, etc. interacting is the keyword i want to emphasize here, along with building a sort of a masterpost of where to find people writing in this fandom

and if you are not a writer, youre still highly encouraged to interact with this post and share it and show love to the writers in this fandom, obviously!! i think that should go without saying, but adding it in anyways

a bit more about my vision and resources and such under the read more, but thats the gist of it. happy linking and please be kind and supportive to each other!! 💜

nobody is too big or too small to add their things on this list. if you write and post anything in this fandom whatsoever, be it fics or drabbles or headcanons, any companies or any kind of ships or reader inserts or any content whatsoever no matter how 'dead dove dont eat' or hell even if its just meta, we welcome all here and nobody can say that one thing is less valid than another. just please tag your content accordingly, especially if theres content warnings, and feel free to mention what you write, who you write, any info you wish to leave that would help people before they click on your links. but even so, that should not and hopefully will not deter people from interacting, no matter what it is. someones trash is another ones treasure, i promise you

and unless the amount gets really overwhelming, im personally going to be checking out everyone that leaves something here. unless it squeaks me out, but even then, i'll spread the word. and i just wish as many people as possible will do the same, and not just use this as a potential board to only get eyes on their stuff. ofc thats also the point, but you should give as much, if not more, than you get. we need to be kind and supportive of one another (besides, from personal experience, if you show love to someone else, they are more likely to do it back than without you taking the first step, so... pay it forward)

as for resources, heres a few links that should be helpful in leaving comments and feedback. of course everyone does their own thing and no comment is too big or too small to leave, but for those who need them. if you have anything you'd like added to this list, dont hesitate to get in touch or drop it in the post yourself!!

101 comment starters

ao3 floating comment box

kudos html

dont know how to comment? easy solutions

a quick hot guide to commenting (by yours truly)

an overall guide to appreciating fanfic writers

and just in general.. leave people comments. leave them asks about their projects. just go over and gush about their work. i know it sounds embarrassing but writers love nothing more than to hear that someone likes what they are doing. if you find a fic that hasnt been updated in forever, comment on it. it might just be the spark the author needs to continue. while kudos and likes are nice, and just as valuable to some, its definitely in the words the people leave for them that matter the most. im not saying this to put pressure on anyone, its just how it is, and i feel like unless people are writers themselves, and even then sometimes, thats just hard to grasp, especially if the writer is a smaller and less popular one who doesnt get a lot of traffic in the first place

i think thats all. just be nice and considered to everyone, reblog peoples works, this post with others add ons and so forth. and if i find anyone talking shit here or at other writers for something they share, you'll be blocked and im probably taking your kneecaps. be fucking nice. we are all struggling here and we need to stick together

happy sharing and commenting 💜💜

#wrestling fanfiction #wrestling fic #aew fanfic #aew fanfiction #wwe fanfiction #wwe fanfic #i hope this make some sort of coherent sense #despite being a writer im really bad at words lmao #i also dont know what to tag this with without clogging main tags so im going to trust moots to get this going first #just. this is a topic im passionate about. i love writing i love writers and having seen the wrestling fandom as of late really struggling #with this. we need to do something. even a little bit helps. actually get people leaving feedback and commenting again #supporting each other. we can do this together #dont let dreams be dreams lets fucking do this #just be nice and help each other out #im gonna stop now before i get overly emotional. if theres any questions let me know tho i think i got the main parts pretty clear here #again moots. im trusting you to get this started. im not gonna add my own shit here immediately this isnt about me #this is about the community as a whole #i also hope nobody is afraid of adding themselves here. you are all valid and worth the attention no matter what #just remember to also give if you leave something here. look at the previous links. look in the notes to find more people #okay thats it i need to make dinner now #lets just be kind and support one another. promise me that 💜#night is an absolute mess on main

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devondespresso · 2 months ago

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Wiggly Worm Wednesday!! 🧠🪱

tagged by @little-annie this Wednesday, @pearynice and @hotluncheddie last time, @queenie-ofthe-void (and hotluncheddie again💕) the time before, and @carolperkinsexgirlfriend the time before that. Thank you guys so much for tagging me even when i can't get to it right away 💖💗💝

Lately I've been kinda swamped with fic commitments and rushing stuff last-minute (my own fault ofc 😅) writing mostly romance, so now im just itching to go back to my platonic stuff! nothing against romance, im enjoying writing it for sure, but god i can't wait to work on my Steve Henderson au again

for now tho the probably-never-to-be-written worms are about Steve bunking with the Buckleys post s4. maybe his parents just never came home, maybe they were there and had a big blowup argument with Steve about leaving, but they're not around now and Robins not about to let Mr Walking-Sepsis-Risk live alone for the apocalypse

in my head i imagine the buckleys house is kinda like max's before s4, a smaller 1-story but cozy, and no guest room so Steve stays in Robin's room.

her parents let them but they're definitely a little wary and a little lost but at least a little used to it, both thanking whatever power they believe in that no matter how freakishly clingy they are now, its still world's better than the violently freakishly clingy stobin was right after starcourt, when both of them looked to be hanging on by a thread and that thread was each other.

so they're like. chill. they plow through an awkward conversation about how bad an idea it would be to be up to something right now with steves injuries and robin sees herself out like halfway through, piling all the old stuffed animal onto her bed and keeping them there for the next week to avoid thinking about it. And Steve, abandoned by his partner in crime, stumbles through his own awkward explanation along the lines of 'you don't have to worry about that, i promise' before joining Robin in her embarrassed cringing-party, featuring notable guests such as Mr. Cat, Doodles, and Floppsy Bunny.

Not much of a plot in my head really, I'm just enjoying all the vague ideas floating around this premise. theres lots of details about Steve and his wounds, like wearing button downs that are easier to put on than pull-overs, Mr. Buckley letting him borrow some when Steve only finds a couple (or when he packs his normal clothes not realizing how miserable itd be to take them on and off constantly to check how things are healing).

Also Steve helping around the house and the Buckley's getting to know him better and not just the Polite Steve that they usually see because Steve couldn't risk his best friends parents not liking him (and because usually robin would go to his house, its a lot easier to sneak out than it is to smuggle someone in, especially with freaky upside down nightmares). Maybe Steve gets to actually joke around with Robin's dad, talk real shit with her mom (maybe about the future, hippie mom offering a different perspective on what life can be, how you can figure things out, just try things even if you don't have a perfect plan)

Steve finding safety not just with Robin, but with Robins family. the four of them growing this sweet relationship, not like a second child for the buckleys but more like a second home for Steve. stobin are firmly strange best friends to me (as opposed to siblings), and i like the dynamic of steve and robin's parents as 'my kids best friend' type stuff, not cause there's any less love but more like they're not trying to replace Steve's parents, they just end up filling in the gaps.

oki tagging presumably for next time (tho if you guys wanna do it late anyway you go for it, time isn't real wahoo): @marvel-ous-m @momotonescreaming @puppy-steve @lightoftheseraph @lingeringmirth

@writing-kiki @eriquin @scriptorbemi @sourw0lfs @soaringornithopter

@solarmorrigan @eddiethebrave @steddiecameraroll @imfinereallyy @yabakuboi

@kikidoesfanfic @tinytalkingtina @hairstevington @stellarspecter @sunflowerharrington

#stranger things #platonic stobin #tag game #devon thinks sometimes #wiggly wednesday #brain worms

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reasonsforhope · 1 year ago

Note

Do you have a tag specifically for stuff about the climate crisis/what is being done/can be done to help stop or reverse its effects?

Basically just read a post that was "I'm not trying to be alarmist but- *spends seven paragraphs about how climate change is inevitable, we will never possibly recover from it, it's not global warming anymore its global "boiling", none of the damage can ever be undone and we're all going to be dead in the next five generations*" and I'm trying.. very hard not to spiral from it.

Sorry for bothering you 🙏

The "climate crisis" "climate change" and "climate hope" tags should do the trick.

Of those, "climate change" is the one that has the most content by far, just because the others are more narrow and "climate hope" is a much more recent term, so to speak, because I keep forgetting about it lol

I don't post anything that's not good news, so you can go through the general "climate change" tag without fear

Also, while I'm at it, that person is wrong. For a lot of reasons, including that we're actively fixing a lot of damage to ecosystems literally right now. And also also, GLOBAL WARMING WILL BE AT LEAST SOMEWHAT REVERSIBLE

Why? Well, the rise in average global temperatures is caused by excess carbon dioxide in the atmosphere. As we keep fixing the planet, restoring ecosystems, and stop burning fossil fuels, nature will siphon more and more of the carbon dioxide out of the atmosphere.

And if there's less carbon dioxide (and other greenhouse gasses) in the atmosphere, then more heat can once again escape the planet and radiate out into space

Will this be easy? Probably not! This planet's natural systems are incomprehensibly complicated - but that also means there are solutions out there that we haven't even discovered. There are some additional problems to overcome, like the fact that the oceans will be surfacing excess heat for a few decades after we stop CO2 emissions, and also "natural gas" and "carbon capture" are fake solutions/oil company traps.

But we can do it. I so, so, so sincerely believe that.

One term that I think we'll be seeing more and more of in the coming years is "Drawdown": "Climate drawdown refers to the future point in time when levels of greenhouse gas concentrations in the atmosphere stop climbing and start to steadily decline.[1] Drawdown is a milestone in reversing climate change and eventually reducing global average temperatures." (from wikipedia)

We can achieve drawdown. Will life in the future look very different? Yes, in both good and bad ways.

Climate change is the earth's "feedback" to humanity: "Fix your shit or die."

People are, in general, really, really, really committed to finding ways not to die.

I genuinely believe the rest of us can overcome the few dozen billionaires trying to screw the rest of us over. Money is powerful, but the remaining 7 billion plus people on this planet are more so. And the fortunes of billlionaires are made off the backs of the rest of us - which means we can make those fortunes run dry.

Sources for this answer (warning, these talk about the negative side of things a lot too, they're not the uplifting reads themselves. that's next): x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x

Other sources to read for hope: FutureCrunch, Project Drawdown and Project Regeneration good news websites in general such as Positive News and Goodgoodgood, which I think are the best content fits for what you're looking for. Make sure to check out Goodgoodgood's roundups specifically. And know that there are way, way more good news stories - and way bigger ones, too - than I've had time to post about lately, because work has been really hectic

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icedragonlizard · 2 months ago

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Shadow Kirby headcanons

I did a Skirby hc post before, but it was before I did a bunch of changing to my verse. His characterization is now very different from what I had before. I deleted that old post, so this is the post to see how I now interpret this character.

Shadow Kirby, much like his titular pink counterpart, is the hero of his homeland. He obtained the status as the hero of the mirror world some time after the events of Amazing Mirror.

Here's how he got to that point: Shortly after AM, when Skirby and Kirby became friends, Skirby then came to Kirby to ask for help on how to use copy abilities. Kirby, of course, was more than glad to help, and after enough exercise and training with copy abilities, Skirby stepped up and became willing to protect the mirror world.

Dark Mind managed to survive its fight against Kirby, and continued to be a threat to the mirror world for about another year after Amazing Mirror. But after Skirby mastered the use of copy abilities, he then eliminated Dark Mind for good. That establishes his status as the mirror world's hero, and it puts some weight off of Kirby's shoulders because his counterpart protects the mirror world without him needing to constantly come back to do it.

More down below by clicking the 'Keep reading' tag.

Skirby is the hero of his homeland just like Kirby is the homeland of his, but there are plenty of personality differences.

Kirby eats a lot, isn't very talkative, and generally prefers not to spar outside of doing it with one person. He spars with Meta Knight, albeit only because Meta stubbornly keeps challenging him to sword duels, but Kirby generally only gets combative when it's necessary, such as during adventures, breaking up fights between his friends and stopping his morally bankrupt friends from causing minor trouble after they became his friends. Other than that, he's chill and would rather nap instead of fighting when he doesn't need to.

Skirby is different in all of those aspects. His appetite isn't nearly as big as Kirby's, and he's a lot more talkative. He also loves to do things like sparring. He'd gladly engage in a sparring match with anyone that wants to clash swords (or any other weapon) with him.

His best friend is Dark Meta Knight. They became friends after Dark Mind was killed off for real post-AM, as that's when DMK was finally set free from Dark Mind's influence. And sparring is one of the main friendship activities that happen between Skirby and DMK.

There's another big personality difference between Skirby and Kirby: Their niceness and forgiveness. Kirby is well known for being so incredibly nice and sweet, and always forgives every villain that stops being hostile to him. He also never dislikes or hates anyone.

Skirby, however, is not quite the same in that regard. Unlike Kirby, Skirby is actually willing to dislike/hate people. He's not quite as forgiving as Kirby, and he's less nice.

He's still a nice guy overall, but definitely less so than Kirby. And he can get pissed off easier than Kirby can. That's not necessarily even to say he's a temperamental person, but he definitely has his limits a lot more than Kirby does. And he's capable of being a hater if pushed to that limit.

There are notable figures that Skirby has dislike for, and I'll go over them:

He absolutely hates Dark Mind. There is nobody that Skirby hates more than Dark Mind. He immediately respected Kirby for fighting Dark Mind, and when that monster somehow survived and still went on for a bit more, Skirby decided to eliminate it himself. He's glad that being is no more.

Shadow Dedede and Dark Taranza are other people that Skirby has negative opinions of. Like DMK, they were also minions of Dark Mind that were then set free from its influence after Skirby killed it. But unlike DMK, those two had no interest in becoming friends with Skirby and were even mean to him. They simply stormed off and did their own thing, and this made Skirby decidedly not like them. He thinks they're ungrateful because of how they acted after he killed Dark Mind. At least DMK became his friend in the end, though.

Skirby also has not-so-great opinions on a few of the dream friends. But before we get into them right away, let me talk about Skirby's deal with the dream friends in a general sense.

He hadn't actually met most of the dream friends until after Star Allies. The reason why he didn't join the team during Star Allies is because the mirror world was effected by the Jamba Heart threat, and Skirby wanted to protect the mirror world from it. That's also what led to DMK joining the star allies team; Skirby and DMK made a deal where the former stayed and protected the mirror world while the latter went out to join Kirby and the others.

When Skirby met all the other dream friends after Void Termina's defeat, he has varying opinions of them. His favorite dream friend is... DMK, of course, because they're besties and have been for years before Star Allies. And then after DMK, Skirby's next favorite dream friends are the others of Wave 2: Daroach, Adeleine and Ribbon, as he's grateful to them for being DMK's friends. Skirby himself also became friends with them because of it.

Wave 2 + Shadow Kirby friend group baby let's goooo!

And now we talk about the dream friends that Skirby isn't so fond of. His two least favorite dream friends are Marx and Zan Partizanne.

Skirby really doesn't like either of those two. He has distaste for them both, and generally avoids them as much as he can.

He thinks Marx is insufferable. The jester can get on his nerves with pranks, and he also tells edgy jokes that piss Skirby off. Not just that, but Skirby also doesn't appreciate how Marx just treats DMK like an entertaining cringe compilation. He thinks he's sort of cruel for that.

As for Zan, Skirby dislikes and resents her because she called him a bastard after mistaking him for a shooting star. He took offense to that. And then things just got rather petty between these two. Skirby just thinks that Zan is really unpleasant and doesn't want to be around her.

Skirby also doesn't like Magolor and Susie, but he can stand them a little bit better than he can stand either Marx or Zan.

And then Skirby has a rather complicated dynamic with Taranza. This is, of course, because Taranza hates DMK's guts for being involved in the corruption of Sectonia - which, to be clear, corrupting her was an order made by Dark Mind.

The thing is, Skirby doesn't blame Taranza for hating DMK, but he thinks he's going too far in wanting revenge on the guy, especially considering that Dark Mind, the one who was really behind Sectonia's corruption, is now gone. That being said, it's not all bad, as Taranza does give Skirby some credit for being the one to kill Dark Mind, but they hugely disagree about DMK and thus have some trouble getting along.

That sums up Skirby's favorite and least favorite dream friends. For the others that weren't mentioned above: He has friendships with Bandee and Gooey, he quite likes the animal friends, and he gets along decently alright with both Meta Knight and King Dedede despite the former still having distaste for DMK. And although Skirby dislikes Zan, he actually gets along pretty well with both Francisca and Flamberge. Especially the latter, who he considers his favorite out of the mage sisters, while Zan is absolutely his least liked one.

Skirby is a member of Kirby's ginormous friend group. He'll be there in the big events that all of Kirby's friends are invited in, including the pink puff's birthday parties. A good chunk of Kirby's big friend circle, namely a lot of the dream friends, know Skirby by his association with DMK, but he's a lot more liked than DMK as people give him credit and applause for becoming the mirror world's new hero.

He's given credit as a benevolent person that stepped up to be the hero of his homeland, as he made the true killing blow to his homeland's most infamous villain and befriended one of its minions, who become a part of Kirby's big friend group just like Skirby himself.

More Kirbies mean more charm!

#kirby #shadow kirby #skirby #kirby and the amazing mirror #kirby star allies #dark mind #dark meta knight #marx #marx kirby #zan partizanne #taranza

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inviisiiblelee · 9 months ago

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The Beginning of a Lifetime

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Word Count: 2,030 Rating: Teen and Up Audience Relationship: Alastor/Vox Additional Tags: Vox is named George Taylor, Vox is Brand New, Alastor Has a Heart (Hazbin Hotel), Fluff, First Meetings, i love writing about first meetings, Vox died in the 40s, Probably only a handful of years after Alastor at most, Alastor Takes Vox Under His Wings, porting from AO3, link included above if prefered. Notes: Always based around headcanons. I named him George Taylor simply because its a really non-unique and generic type of name. Meant for a boring, plain little man. I thought about V names like how Angel is Anthony, but I was looking up popular names for boys born in 1890's when I headcanon Vox was probably born and wanted to stay within the top of popularity. A (late) entry for RadioStatic week day 1. Enjoy! <3 Meant to rival in name my other work, The End of a Lifetime, too.

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George Taylor was not a violent man in life, and to be faced with so much violence immediately in Hell? He was absolutely not ready. Not only was he unprepared for the levels of pure chaos, but even his own body was beyond a little different. He couldn’t say it didn’t make some sense, he’d only died with a large television set dropped directly onto his head. Turns out that’s quite enough pressure to cause the skull to give in and be crushed completely. He had enemies, sure, while alive, it wasn’t something that could be easily avoided in the line of business he had pursued, at the end of the day. And some of those people were more temperamental than he was, but that was where his disarming charm was used the best. He could talk a majority of people down from a direct conflict, could sugar his words just right so that they would feel reassured. White lies, little seeds of doubt or warmth, a way of wriggling into their hearts and minds. He was good at it. He was just a plain, simple man, anyway. What was intimidating of someone as plain as him? Dressed well and groomed, with an easy smile and all the patience in the world. A soft voice, dulcet tones, easy airs of confidence and pleasantry. It worked.

Usually.

His life’s final confrontation was impossible to ease down, and George was not a fighter in any way. He could be quick on his feet, but fear, while motivating, didn’t make it easy. It wasn’t as though it wasn’t a fair experience - he’d gotten the man booted from his job, needled down with debt, and serving time for something he definitely did not do, as a star witness who lied on the stand in full confidence and with the performance of a lifetime. It made sense he was murdered, and it made perfect sense he found himself here in Hell, something he did, at least, gather quickly.

He didn’t anticipate some sort of warm welcome, of course, no group of happy campers to explain how things worked or to help him out, but he also didn’t quite anticipate being jumped and pushed into an alleyway by a small group of three rough looking demons (he had to guess? Surely that was what they were called?) who threw him to the ground, searched his pockets, slammed his head against a wall, and took his slightly worn out jacket and his shoes of all things, considering he had nothing else to offer. He wasn’t sure how a television of a head could lead to the pain shooting through his back and limbs, and while he was unsure of anything else that was injured, it hurt more than he liked to admit, and trying to stand led to such severe vertigo that he slid down against the wall and just stayed there.

He had never been so beaten down so fast while alive, even as a sickly sort. He was often ill, pushing through regardless and a little less than sturdy as a result, but he’d always been able to keep some sort of victimization at bay. Yet here he was now, exhausted already, in pretty poor shape and relative thundering pain, hazy vision and some sort of buzzing in the back of his mind that was steadily growing. It was a little distracting, really, and he sort of leaned into the sound, trying to follow it, the odd tones and shifting noise. It reminded him of an older time, before he was a television personality, back when he worked in the industry fixing problems with the tech. It was a sound mostly associated with audio problems, really. He wondered how deep the effects of having such a … changed physical form went. He hadn’t even had the opportunity to really look or examine it much before things went down, anyway.

Static was building in his head, and George was finding it hard to think. The sound of it shifted and changed every moment, pitch and tone flowing up and down like someone trying to tune an old instrument, except interspersed by buzzing and screeching of something electronic. Like a speaker ruined by water, or being in general interfered with. He tried reaching out to it mentally in some way, a sort of … internal troubleshooting. It felt weird and almost nauseating to explore, but he was trying to make any sense of it. He found he could sort of lower the volume of it, but it kept rising even when he did, steadily, and eventually he gave up, letting the buzzing, shrill feedback take over his mind.

He barely noticed a shadow tower over him.

But he did. He saw it projected along the ground and over his person, and his heart dropped into his stomach. A soft little plea for mercy escaped him, and he realized he had been whimpering quietly for a little while now. He hadn’t noticed in the whirlwind of emotion and sensation, and something akin to tears appeared to be dripping from his screen. It felt weird. A chill settled over him, and he felt fear sink into his soul.

George looked up at the person causing the shadow. Shades of red, black accents, a demon dressed rather formally and holding something that looked like both a cane and some sort of … microphone? The buzzing was so loud in his ears, and then it abruptly cut quiet as the looming form spoke.

“Good to see you, old friend.” A hand was outstretched to him, the friendliest gesture anyone had shown him so far, at all.

Old friend? For a moment, all George could do was stare at him, this strange … person? Man? Devil? And then it clicked.

Was that Alastor? They had met a couple of times over the years they lived on Earth simultaneously. A radio host, whose voice George was fairly familiar with when he would make his trips through his area. They’d met in person only a handful of times, at various functions that George ended up at per his workplace. The two had shared a few conversations, and he remembered them well, one of which being recommended to look into broadcasting himself, a compliment that George had taken quite seriously. Alastor had been a hell of a man when alive, certainly, in spite of what he thought he knew of his potential crimes. It wasn’t as though it was his job to judge, and it wasn’t as though he felt he had been in any danger. He remembered hearing about his death, finding it quite regrettable and sad, even. It was quite the accident to learn of. But Alastor was far from who he expected to run into, let alone to be recognized by.

“Alastor?”

Idiot. It was the only thing he could seem to say, even as he reached forward and placed his own hand in the other’s. His blue fingers contrasted so starkly against the red of his old acquaintance’s. But he found support and strength in the grip of his friend’s, and Alastor helped him stand and steadied him easily when he swayed. He was smiling wide, and George wondered if he was really that happy to see him. He couldn’t help but feel a little relief - okay, a lot of it. A weight was being lifted from his chest, seeing someone familiar, someone he would happily trust in this moment. Maybe a little naive, or a dangerous line of thoughts, but he couldn’t help himself.

“The one and only!” Alastor replied, chipper energy in the words. “You look an absolute mess, friend, what happened?”

“Oh, uh,” George hesitated to respond, but it was hard to miss the clear evidence of an attack, anyway. Or at the least, the torn clothing and dazed expressions. “Someone stole my jacket and shoes.” He said it with a shrug, and he offered his own easy smile. It was something he could do, at least. He could pretend, in this moment, that it didn’t matter.

“How shameful of them! Come along, I’ll get you sorted out straight away. What did they look like?” The question had him blinking, and then scrambling to remember. It hadn’t even happened more than an hour ago, so he gave what description he could. Alastor simply nodded, looking away in what he thought was some sort of consideration. He placed a hand on George’s back, urging him out of the alleyway finally, leading him down the sidewalk.

“Sorry, I’m just a little out of it still,” he said quickly. “Just got here and I didn’t quite think it would all be so … immediately exciting.” Carefully chosen words as he examined his surroundings, peering around to finally get a sense of where he might be, the state of things around here. He’d barely made it a few blocks on his own, before.

“Worry not, we’ll get you right as rain in no time at all,” was all Alastor offered, and George fell into step with him cautiously.

Things were odd. Alastor brought him to what seemed to be a tailor, offering to cover him getting repaired and refreshed clothing for the time being. He didn’t ask for anything from George as they left, but he couldn’t help feeling relieved. He noted that many seemed to shy away from Alastor for some reason, fleeting glances and then people crossing the roads, as if to get away from him. It was a weird thing to see - Alastor was still only smiling, seemingly unbothered by any of it.

“What’s with the parting of the crowd?” George finally asked after a little more walking, entirely unsure where they were even going, now.

“Oh, they’re merely getting out of the way,” Alastor said simply. “I’ve made a few waves here, they know to move pretty well.” He said it so jauntily, George couldn’t find a reason to mind it. If Alastor had made a name for himself already, then all the better, right? Good for him.

They walked only for a few blocks before George realized they were within sight of the group that had attacked him. Stepping a little closer to Alastor, without realizing it, he tensed up. Alastor seemed to notice, however.

“Is that them?”

“I- I think so? The one on the right has my jacket, at least.”

“Stay here, yes?”

“Uh. Okay.”

Alastor broke away from him with a few strides and approached the small group of other demons. Alastor’s height towered over them, and they seemed very startled by his presence. George stayed where he was told, unable to hear the conversation, though it was clearly mostly Alastor speaking to them at length before holding out one hand, palm up, expecting something. A moment passed, and then something in the air changed, and the buzzing static and feedback roared in his ears all of a sudden. He saw the space around Alastor darken, saw a long, strange set of antlers begin to grow from his temples. Dark shadows formed around the trio, and those around otherwise were quick to clear away at the display, but George could only seem to stare. The shadows traveled up and wrapped around each of the demons, and he snatched George's jacket and shoes from them, as well as other belongings. The shadows squeezed harder and harder, until they were certainly pleading desperately, before being abruptly consumed into the ground without further showing. Alastor draped the jacket over his arm and returned to George’s side, holding his things out.

George blinked a few times before remembering himself, taking them from him with a rushed set of thank you’s, which Alastor only waved away with a quick dismissive comment. They fell into step together again, and Alastor asked if he felt fine enough to join him for lunch.

“Oh, yeah, of course. I’ll be fine, thank you.”

“No thanks necessary. What else are friends for? You must catch me up, I’m sure we have plenty to discuss, so stay close, hm?”

“Definitely will do.”

And, well. Vox would be a man of his word, for as long as Alastor wanted him there.

#staticradio #radiostatic #radiostatic week 2024 #radiostatic week day 1 #first meetings radiostatic #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x vox #vox hazbin hotel #early hell hazbin hotel #my writing #hazbin hotel fanfiction

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neonmetro · 11 days ago

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Hey chat I'm sick and the day is definitely not going as well as I thought it would so. . .I ever so kindly beg for a Uly. . .

Honestly this guy needs an award because he is working a full time job in my head with no breaks !!!! Like this man can't even call out sick. . .it's so cute. . .the silly ever. Honestly I think this is going to be Ulysses appreciation because what makes someone feel more better than talking about some silly blorbos. . . NOTHING !!!

He's so pathetic and awful I love it. . .

*slams fist on table* GET ME ALL THE ULYSSES YOU HAVE !!!! STAT !!! /SILLY

-Ulysses loving anon

IT TRULY IS A 24/7 365 DAY JOB HAVING ULY IN YOUR BRAIN THAT GUY JUST INFESTS YOUR GOD FORSAKEN BRAINWORMS!!!!!!

he truly is just. absolutely tired and done with everything. life is just dull without Her, and without Her, he is noman.

i was actually talking about his gender w a friend semi recently and its really interesting part of him... most of his identity really does align with traditional masc expectations, wanting to protect those closest to him and be able to support a family and he's essentially just a trans straight guy but his relationships with sapphics is just different. he doesn't sees them as another facet to himself or a missing piece (even though literally everyone he was close to has died and its his fault he doesn't think he's less of a man gender wise he just doesn't think he's a human period (tho his it pronoun doesn't derive from this. to be clear))

ALSO. pivoting to his friendships. he, polites, and eurylochus have matching hair ribbons...

when polites dies, eurylo takes it while uly takes his out. he can't pretend he deserves it now after what he's done to polites, and eurylo is like "ah... i'll take it for safe keeping, if you ever think you want it again."

NOW. ONTO MINVERVA. IT GETS FUCKED.

the founding purposefully have kids and champions that aren't apart of the founding's bloodline just so they can later use their souls to fuel the palladium to keep their powers/immortality. and they Want contracts w other people so they'll be able to provide better powers/last longer. so having multiple champions, like in the case of minerva (ulysses and diomedes), isn't unusual, its just "efficient"

isn't it fucked that he was slated to be a pig sent to the slaughter and the only way to get out of that fate is to butcher his friend first. isn't that crazy (the friend being minerva or polites is up to audience interpretation)

his relationships with his kids are also really fucked.

telemachus obv is the closest with him and he actively tries to talk to him the most. but also his feelings on his dad are weird. on one hand he's PISSED at him for leaving him and his mom alone and making him suffer so much just because he wasn't there physically or emotionally causing so much repression. but on the other, if he doesn't loves uly, who will? he kind of feels an obligation as uly's oldest kid to set an example for the rest of them for how they should feel about their father.

because telegony (their name is actually telegony but i'll tag them as telegonus bc i don't want to tag that god forsaken book) absolutely DESPISES ulysses. joined enosichthon corp. out of spite. rose through the ranks. out of spite. intruded on a picnic w/ uly and telemachus. out of spite. they spent the absolute least amount of time with their father and it shows. they hate ulysses with all their guts and ulysses just accepts it which makes telegony even *angrier*.

nausinous spent a lot of their childhood with ulysses, so they have a sort of attachment to him... they don't hate them but they see how their half sibling reacts to him and wishes to just... not have him kill himself in front of everyone.

ANYWAYS THAT'S YOUR DESIGNATED ULY CONTENT !!!!! I HOPE YOU FEEL BETTER SOON BTW...!!! (ik this is late... hopefully you feel better soon tho ^^)

#cw eyestrain #ask #oc #novaturient #neon tedtalks #neon's sketchbook #ulysses #odysseus #the odyssey #telemachus #polites #eurylochus #minerva #telegonus #nausinous

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sophieinwonderland · 1 year ago

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Oh, hey! It's been a while since I've dealt with anti-endos invading the endogenic tags!

Guess it's time to deal with this.

Off to a bad start right away.

I almost always only see "endos" as a pejorative used by anti-endos. It's rare that endogenic system refer to themselves as "endos." While I wouldn't say it's quite a slur, it's not

Okay, so right from the start, the sources they cite for the claim that endogenic systems are impossible under the Theory of Structural Dissociation are from DID-research... a blog by a doctoral student.

And these pages don't even say anywhere what @jananpa claims it does. Let's actually hear what the authors of the Theory of Structural Dissociation have said about the existence of other forms of plurality.

There you have it from two of the authors of The Haunted Self, the book that started the Theory of Structural Dissociation, that it's possible for other "self-conscious dissociative parts" to exist outside of trauma and dissociative disorders. (This is also consistent with how the ICD-11 states that you can have multiple "distinct personality states" without DID.)

At no point has the Theory of Structural Dissociation ever claimed that endogenic systems are impossible.

Stop lying.

Stop misrepresenting the theory of Structural Dissociation when even the authors don't support you.

Just noting that the source here is a Carrd which in turn doesn't provide sources for any of its claims.

This is probably where @jananpa got most of their misinformation since everything they say is taken straight from its talking points.

On this note, Jananpa mentioned wanting to major in psychology. If they go down this route, I sincerely hope that they learn how to tell if a source is trustworthy or not on their chosen career path, and to not just blindly believe every bigoted Carrd they come across.

This isn't actually an unfair assessment.

Well, aside from the repeated claim that endogenic plurality violates the Theory of Structural Dissociation, which we literally just proved was a lie. It is true that there isn't a "study" in the chapter.

All that this really shows is the opinions of Eric Yarbrough, who is a Distinguished Fellow of the American Psychiatric Association, in a book that was peer reviewed and published by the APA's publishing arm.

It's not a study. But it DOES show recognition and support in the psychiatric field by notable professionals.

Which is more than you can say of the anti-endo opinion that endogenic plurality isn't possible, because absolutely no psychiatrists will ever back you up on that claim, and it's disputed by both the creators of the Theory of Structural Dissociation and the World Health Organization.

Oh no! The sample size is six less than the rule of thumb for a minimum! The horror! 😲

But wait... did they... actually look at that source of theirs???

While the minimums have the largest margin of error, a 10% margin of error isn't really an issue in surveys that are just gathering general opinions like this. And this shows the 10% at 96 for population of larger than 5000. Basically only two off of what's listed here.

It's utterly ridiculous to say a sample size of almost 100 is even close to the equivalent of a sample size of 11.

I'm not going to comment on the Jung article itself since I haven't looked into this much. If anyone wants to add anything, they're welcome to. But obviously older works about plurality aren't using the word plural because the term itself is recent. They just describe instance of people experiencing multiple self-conscious agents sharing a body. Acting like someone not using the word plural is this great "gotcha" is silly.

What I will say on this is that yes, inner worlds can be consciously created in DID. There are guides out there on how to do it.

Actually, I don't think the leading theory is even that trauma causes you to "gain" an inner world (at least not directly), so much as retreating into fantasy worlds is a common trauma response and that action causes inner worlds to develop. Outside forces (trauma) result in an action (escapism) which leads to inner world development.

But the action does not require trauma.

Not everyone exposed to trauma develops complex inner worlds because not everyone responds to trauma with the same coping mechanisms.

You should also pick an armchair diagnosis and stick with it. Is his inner world SZPD or MADD? These are very different disorders.

Or better yet, don't do either. Not all daydreaming is maladaptive, and you shouldn't assume somebody has a disorder just because they have complex inner worlds. Immersive daydreaming is a common practice, and it's not maladaptive unless it interferes with daily life.

No.

Stop.

Literally all of this is wrong!

For starters, there's no evidence anywhere of the Tibetan Buddhist practice being closed, and the Dalai Lama has said that people of other religions can use Tibetan Buddhist meditations.

“Many Christians tell me they believe in Buddhist meditation, which can be learned by Christians. We teach right attitude. We teach meditation, which can be quite deep. These would be things that the West can take, and I think it is clear that Buddhists should practice certain Western methods, too.”

Moreover, the Tibetan Buddhist practice is not called Tulpamancy. "Tulpamancy" is a term associated solely with the Western practice.

And Tulpamancy is largely NOT a religious or spiritual practice. From Varieties of Tulpa Experiences:

76.5% of tulpamancers view their practice as psychological.

Both the above study and the one referenced in Jan Anpa's post are about the primarily psychological Western practice. As will be ALL research into tulpamancy. The Buddhist religious practices it shares an etymology with is completely irrelevant to this topic of studies into the disorder.

Tulpamancy is primarily seen as psychological plurality by most tulpamancers, and that's what these studies are about.

You're welcome to look into the above study further as it has a lot more information on tulpamancy. It's was written by Samuel Veissière, a psychiatry professor at McGill University in a book reviewed and published by the Oxford University Press.

Jananapa, if there's one thing that's clear from all of this, it's that despite being confident in your ignorance, you know absolutely nothing about systems, structural dissociation, plurality, tulpamancy or literally anything else discussed in your post.

Given your self-assured ignorance of systems, I wouldn't recommend people put any trust in your understanding of Autism or any of the other conditions you discuss on your blog.

If anyone wants to further educate themselves on endogenic systems, please see my Endogenic Syscourse Primer.

As always with these hate posts that end up being posted in pro-endo tags, it's only fair that I share my responses in anti-endo tags along with many other tags the initial post was made in.

If any anti-endos are bothered by this, please ask @jananpa to not post in our tags anymore. As long as anti-endos stay in their lane, I'll stay in mine. When anti-endos invade our spaces, my responses to those posts will continue to go straight to theirs. If we can't have safe spaces to exist, then you aren't allowed safe spaces to spread hate against us. (I will avoid DID/OSDD/traumagenic tags out of respect for non-anti-endos in those spaces. But you might want to ask that Jananpa stay out of those tags as well since I know you guys also tend to not care for singlets posting in those tags.)

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tetsuski · 1 year ago

Text

why try?

prologue

pairing: gojo Satoru x fem!reader

friends to lovers

word count: 1.1k

warning : none

summary: feelings are confusing. neither you nor Gojo knows how to deal with them.

mlist

a/n : lmk if u want more want to be in a tag list!

a year ago

its the first day you came into the jujutsu high

you finally finished unpacking walking outside of your dorm trying to find the exit so your teacher can shows you around the school. and you're also hungry. since you just moved here your fridge is empty. hearing your stomach growls.

but luck is not on your side today cause it was pouring rain and that leaves you stuck in an empty building or so you thought it was until you heard faint footsteps echoing through the hallways

what was that?

you see a tall figure from the distance walking towards you. maybe today is the day your life ends. a new girl in a dark hallway. what an easy target.

you wanted to run but your whole body feel frozen its like your feet are stuck on the pavement.

as the figure become closer to you

“AAAHHHH!!” you screamed closing your eyes in fears

and nothing happened

slowly you open up your eyes expecting something scary but instead, you locked eyes with a boy about the same age as you wearing sunglasses on looking at you confused “Why the fuck did you scream? do I look like a bad guy to you? who are you anyway?”

thank you universe- you thought to yourself

silence not realizing the boy asked you a question

“so… you come here often?” trying to make small talk with the boy standing right in front of you “Yeah, I'm a student here” he answered looking out to the window just noticing that he was wearing a black school uniform “Oh, cool cool cool cool” you murmured " so am I, I just transferred here by the way" he nods

you look at his side profile damn this boy is so pretty how can someone look this pretty? then someone interrupted your train of thought “Stop staring at me. What do you want?” he asked sounding pissed.

blinking, you lean in a bit closer holding your own hands behind your back “Oh sorry- I didn’t mean to I was just wondering… why are you wearing sunglasses when it's dark out?” tilting your head to the side and staring up at him waiting for a reply from the white-haired boy.

he felt heat creeping up to his cheeks what the fuck is he feeling? he’s not used to this “None of your damn business” he turns around walking away from you making his way towards his room and leaving you all alone in the dark hallway

"HEh- he's so rude. I was literally just asking. hmph." mumbling crossing your arm and puffing your cheeks.

wait, hold on- running after him and start knocking on his door

no answer

you knock again

still no answer

"HELLLOO!!! I know you're in there, HElp me please!" banging on his door "NO! I just got back I'm tired" you hear the voice from the other side "Please! I'm new! My name is l/n y/n! It'll take less than five minutes! please!" finally the door cracked opened "what?" smiling up at him " do you know someplace where they kept the food? I'm really hungry. like a cafeteria or something?" huffing the boy just opens the door wider "come in" looking at the boy suspiciously "hurry up, I'm about to make dinner" gesturing you to walk faster

"do you like eggs?"

"yeah"

"okay"

you admire the boy cooking in a small space kitchen in the dorm room cracking eggs into a bowl

this boy looks like an angel too bad he's a bit grumpy or maybe I just catch him on a bad day? wait- no he is nice he's literally cooking me dinner right now. hold on this random guy is cooking me dinner and I don't even know his name? what if he is actually a kidnapper and I'm falling for his traps right now? maybe I should introduce myself so he can tell me his name

"My name is L/n y/n" you declare "I know, you were shouting five minutes ago" he deadpans. "what's your name?" "Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer." your mouth falls open

wow, cocky much? you know what I don't even care right now I'm just really hungry.

you both eat your dinner

you thanked him for cooking and helps him clean up

"I owe you!" you say to Gojo while putting on your shoes back and walking out to his dorm.

present day

L/n y/n is not a morning person, she needs her daily consumption of caffeine to function. so there she was standing in front of a vending machine in her pajamas at seven in the morning waiting for her drink to fall from its shelves

“good morning”

there he is again the Gojo Satoru the person you’ve known for years standing right beside you while you’re taking your drink from the vending machine “Morning, Satoru” noticing he's already dressed for today.

“that coffee taste like shit, why would anyone drink that?” Gojo blurted out “Shut the fuck up Satoru, let me have my coffee in peace. "cracking the can open, and turning your back on him as you start to walk away "Someone’s grumpy” he joked following close to your footsteps “it's still 7 am go bother somebody else,” you said dryly. walking faster to go back to your dorm.

unfortunately, he catches up to you “can I get a piece of that?” with the stupidest grin on his face.

a piece of what? oh. maybe he wants my drink.

“no. Go buy one yourself” taking more sips of the drinking hoping it'll wakes you up more.

stopping in his tracks “Oh no no.” he waves his hands “I mean can I get a piece of that ass?”. lowering his glasses. when- you start to choke on your drink. he pats your back while laughing “That was so bad shitface. Where even did you get that from?” you asked wiping your mouth with the back of your hand laughing along.

he puts his hands on his chest acting offended “ y/n, how low do you think of me? Of course I came up with that by myself ” he shakes his head "With this brain right here" pointing at his temple “no wonder why its shitty” you smiled. that smile. that goddamn smile. the smile always makes Satoru’s heart beat faster. the only smile that can make his day better no matter what. gojo satoru doesn’t understand what his feelings are and he doesn’t want to. he like where he is right now so why try to ruin something already perfect with something as complicated as ’love’.

#gojou x reader #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo angst #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #gojo imagine

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reactionimagesdaily · 1 year ago

Text

The Image Tags Masterpost

(As its own post thanks to a suggestion from @oregano-gremlin! gracias)

Every image is tagged with one of these tags, for organisation purposes! ^_^

(Also It’d be a HUGE pain to go back and re-organise them so, while suggestions for new categories/adjustments to existing ones are appreciated, I’m almost definitely not gonna follow through on any of them.)

(Also I am uh. Putting this under a read-more because it’s longer than I thought it was gonna be when it’s all laid out lmao)

#[undefinable] - for images that don’t really fit into a single mood, or have a mood that isn’t accurately represented by one of the other tags

#;_; - for images that are the big sad

#Hell yah - for celebratory, “nice”-type images

#Hell nah - for images that simply embody the concept of “no”, “no thanks”, “not for me”, e.t.c.

#Frick the frack off - slightly violent images used to tell someone to begone or that they are unimpressive

#Y’all are heathens - images that demonstrate disdain, confusion, or general contempt for your group chat

#Ah shit - images that convey “oh fuck”, “oh no”, “oh heck”, “oh shit”, and so on

#Depression time - for images that can be used to either show genuine sadness, or a weary sort of “oh God” that is less emotive and more resigned than an #Ah shit image

#Huzzah - celebratory images

#w h a t - images which convey just. total incredulity and bafflement

#F - for images that pay respects

#ooh-de-lally - images to be used for things that are exciting, spicy, or generally just make your eyebrow quirk up a bit

#Cursed - cursed images

#Wow - images that either convey a sense of genuine wonder, or demonstrate like. “yeah cool story bro”

#I LOVE YOU!!! - images you can use to show affection to any loved ones you are fortunate enough to have

#Welp - for images that aren’t very emotive or very specific, but rather channel that face you make when someone’s talking about something and you have no real idea how to react

#Genuine mirth - images that express, well, genuine mirth

#Contemplation time - I like to think this one is self-explanatory lmao

#Horny on main - not for NSFW stuff so much as stuff where it’s just a guy saying “hehe boobies” or whatever

#:) - happy pickturs

#Fear - fear

#Called out - honestly this one’s a bit inconsistent but it’s either for when you yourself have been called out (“you got me there”) or for when you’re calling someone ELSE out (“cool motive, still murder”)

#Free Real Estate - for images based off of those legendary seconds

#Gratitude amigo - images that say thanks

#Trans rights - because trans rights are human rights

#Disgustan’ - for when you need to express disgust with an image

#Disney - images @ that specific megacorp

#I am so great - images for when you’re proclaiming your own greatness (or at least an amount of self-satisfaction)

#Stole your meme lol - for those images you see everywhere on twitter indicating that someone likes your meme/image and have saved it for their own use

#Genuine reassurace - images that express, well, genuine reassurance

#[Music stops] - there are lot of parodies of the initial “music stops” image, and I have many of them

#Gweetings - images that say hi

#I will cause problems on purpose - images with those vibes

#Ambivalent - because sometimes you need to visually express how little you care

#Bog Moss - this is actually the tag for images that are like “mood” or “same” - I tag them ‘bog moss’ because of an inside joke lmao

#Mockery - bully your friends with this specific collection

#Please exercise empathy - for images that basically say “I don’t know how to expain to you that you should care about other people”

#Nice music - images dedicated to saying that specifically music is good

#Sic ‘em - for images that carry a similar energy to Mayor Tyler from Gravity Falls going ‘git ‘em! git ‘em!’

#Grooving - images that convey the emotion of dancing

#You are not immune to propaganda - I have no idea where that edit of Garfield came from, but there are LOADS of edits, so they all get their own category

#Think of the economy - for images designed to satirise people who prioritise stonks and the economy (which CAN be important, I won’t knock ‘em) over human life

#Silence! - you know that image of the crab lasering something? Yeah, there are a bunch of those, so they get their own category

#Genuine wrath - images that express, well, genuine wrath

#Pretty sus NGL - images designed to help convey suspect or suspicion

#Gotta go fast - images that go quick nyoom

#Ight Imma head out - parting is such sweet sorrow, as these images will demonstrate

#Case Closed - for image that indicate that some kind of mystery has been solved, or that some kind of question has been answered

#Not-okay cute things - for those images where it’s like, a plush toy captioned with “I can’t fucking take it”. those sorts of images. they have a category

#Oucho - for images that convey pain but aren’t quite in the realm of ;_;

#Ok boomer - Y'all remember ok boomer?

#Chillaxing - for image that surmize a specific chillaxed vibe

#Nice dub - using this one for pics of that one specific guy in all those pictures where he’s congratulating people’s Ws and Dubs

#not a pic #the Image Tags Masterpost

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1eoness · 6 months ago

Note

BROOO u were literally probably the first author whose fic i read when i first searched up leon smuts last year 😭 ur works r so good n idk if u'll see this but it's nice to hear abt ur perspective, i feel like fics abt leon these days r so fucked up and scary, it reminds me of when i first read a fic of yours and it was nothing but normal and hot? i just mean it's like, what fanfiction should be, how smuts should be, just p in v and stuff without all that crazy shit, it sucks to see writers these days waste their talent on writing dead dove fics that are so horrendous that it really affected me mentally

helloo!! (im not dead mueheaheah)

WARNING : Mentions of dead dove content and the likes of its themes!

before i talk : [HIIIIII HEHAHEH thank you for your support!! i'm glad you liked my (very subpar) work! now that i look back on it those themes did enter a somewhat gray line at some point because i lacked a lot of experience in writing. i do not condone ever letting your professor have sex with you nor do i promote any kind of hate-motivated sex, or dubcon! it was merely a bold attempt of expressing hormones (if you know 😭) like a lot of people my age commonly do and so i had (and still have to) reedit the tropes in my work a bit, also because i turned 18 now and i wanna readjust my boundaries! i hope you dont mind. regardless, i love that you like those themes. very good! love you!! /p]

anyway, leaning more towards the topic at hand. i don't doubt that your opinion is much different than a large part of the community under this tag. which is a very, very good thing! i'm pretty sure it was ever since @/gilfhub's posts started to quickly rise in the top pages that lead a lot of users to be influenced and begin to tear down a very, very important boundary. i'm very sorry to hear that being exposed to that affected you mentally, that's the entire reason why i absolutely abhor blogs that post and enable that content. you're not alone on that either <3 and i agree! people should ALWAYS write boundaries in mind. i've lurked around the tag a lot and noticed a lot of "popular" writers who also have an alternative blog for dark content (this isn't just a specific account, there are a lot of these.) warnings don't make things better, they don't fend witnesses away, and it doesn't make you any less insensitive. "dead dove content" itself (which is really just incestual/horribly taboo sexual assault fantasies, no need to sanitize it) should always be suppressed and private (or, well, NOT WRITTEN AT ALL). the moment you put it up on any kind of digital page, you are attracting ANY kind of viewer and none of that shit is cute, i'm sorry. projecting your trauma onto a character is one thing but writing them as someone who skips the morality line is just straight up trying to exercise your power through the wrong means. just as much as you have the power to express yourself, you also have the power to make someone very uncomfortable. people don't think about these situations in the long run, that's why. they seem to really like using the "leon is just a character, i promise he won't care" argument which i also think is total bullshit cause this isn't even about leon, it just entirely reflects what your true values really are. they centralize around the need to express yourself at the expense of other people's comfort (because, for the nth time, it's a public space with an unpredictable demographic yet people seem to really like just doing the "bare minimum" on their part). whilst your perception of a traumatic experience may be valid, it doesn't give you any excuse. this is far from the idea of free individualistic expression, it is just as bad as some 4channer posting about wanting similar situations be inflicted onto them with even real, sentient people. because we all know why these themes allow themselves to be exposed to the audience and that's because it tries to appeal to a very specific group of people (which is very disgusting.) they want to be so condescending, too. like "oh grow up, i'm all under ur skin and for what." it's blatant ignorance, you're not very smart!

and finally as ironic as it is, porn is to blame for enabling a lot of similar themes. it's so obvious, too, a lot of fictions like the ones you mentioned that are dead dove always have to mention pornography titles in it. (honestly doesn't have to be dead dove either). sanitization can be done in MANY ways, and a lot of the times I notice it's through the way of romanticizing or aestheticizing it. I'm talking about those who put up mini pinterest-board headers of like three whatevercore images and then putting lyrics at the bottom of it. it's like an attempt at writing a very bad fucking movie not gonna lie. for example, they end up trying to decorate their post with elements that fall under anything curated aesthetic. and guess what? we've all been there but NOT for writing about uncle!character and their kid reader thats just flat out WEIRD. trust me you are NOT anais nin, you do not have to write lyrical prose and try to beautify something that will always be ugly and demented to its very core. you cannot call dead dove content "artistic vents", either. i also think i can understand that some people are victims who have failed to get help thus they try to cope through other means. but i will never applause someone for making the right choices. i think there's no excuse behind writing dead dove content other than to self mutilate your mental health in the long run for a temporary moment of "safe fun", and not even knowing that it is also in/directly harming the public eye.

it's rotten. it's disgusting. dead dove writers should not be welcomed in any fictional writing space. i've been triggered over and over again and it made me put off writing and reading for a very long time. i've experienced something similar before and i have gone crazy over it, and trust me, the things these people write so "generously" for their viewers are NOTHING but toxic waste.

tumblr is NOT your space, but everyone has a space in tumblr, so be conscious of yours.

i also encourage people to not stay silent on the matters if they want to speak up on it but are afraid of getting backlash. i've seen people delete their accounts over it (which, i guess is good on them since then they won't have to confront this kind of space anymore).

#leon kennedy smut #ivy responding #loen s kennededyyy!!!!

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