#and it's why i'll (try to) put this in the tags too...i like discussions but seeing ppl NOT going 'it's true love/perfect rep' love that

[wutheringmights]

what is wars diagnosed with. I know he has them I just don't know which ones.

I would prefer if we didn't pathologize Warriors

[outtathisworld-imagines]

Cross my heart

——💥——💥——💥——💥——

Pairing: John Walker x F!Reader

Warning: violence and injury mention, HYDRA mentions, fluff, so much angst bc of course with himmm, swearing, not proofread

A.N: Am I becoming a John Walker apologist?? 🫡

Need that insufferable man

Please let me know what else you guys would like! I do have a few other fics on the back-burner (for now!) that I'll start to post soon and just let me know if you'd liked to be tagged in further works too ✨

——💥——💥——💥——💥——

When your name was called with Walker’s for the next mission your eyes rolled and stomach sank at the thought of having to work with him again.

It had been a few months since your last mission and your almost fist fight after it, scrapping over how certain points were executed or in your case with John- wasn’t.

“You’ll be okay?” Yelena asked between you both, just as she separated the two of you last time. “Try your best not to kill him, as tempting as it may be.”

You let out a quiet laugh, a wide smile that didn’t have a hint of happiness in it. “I’ll certainly try.” You watched John from the corner of your eye head to his room to change, you followed suit, changing into tactical gear before grabbing what you both might need from the supply locker.

Your backs were facing each other, you could hear John mentally check off his list. Mumbles of “45,” and “Knife,” and “Smoke flare,” filled the room.

“We’ll take my car to the hangar.” You informed him, not even turning to look as you strapped weapons to yourself. He was about to open his mouth, no doubt for some quick jibe he was going to throw your way. “Absolutely not up for discussion, Walker. Get your ass down to the garage.”

“Better watch that attitude or I’ll be handing you your own.” He snapped back and you sharply glared at him. The bane of your existence in the tower walking a few steps in front of you with that larger than life swagger, that obnoxious knockoff star-spangled suit that accentuated his form virtually perfectly, his helmet-mask hybrid that tousled his hair as gorgeously as running his hand through it did, but tragically covered his stunning face.

You mentally slapped yourself and shook yourself internally on the spot.

When you reached the garage your car pulled up to you both after you tapped on your smartwatch, John raised a brow. “What?” You snapped more than you intended to.

“Not a car you’d see out on the field…” he said getting in, the car far too sexy and hi-spec against anything else he had to endure on missions. “Must have cost a pretty penny.”

You got in too, buckling up and putting in the coordinates to the hangar. “Yeah well I try and get the use out of it. Didn’t get the shit beaten out of me courtesy of HYRDA for nothing.”

The car fell silent at your far too casual admission. You don’t know why but words always flowed effortlessly off the tongue around him- one day it would get you into serious trouble.

You just had no idea it would have been today.

“You didn’t tell me you worked for them.” John spoke up, voice tight and looking at you with an expressionless face.

“I didn’t.” You clarified before briefly turning to him. “They captured and tortured me.”

Your words were as thick as syrup. Walker had never had you open up to him like you were doing now before, he noticed how your features fell upon the mention of it.

His fists tightened ready to kill every single person that was responsible for what happened to you. Despite the fact you were always snapping at him over something, or that you hogged the training room as you skilfully threw knives with those hands he pictured holding, or how how your laugh brightened everyone’s mood, how the noise it made his heart skip a beat.

He cleared his throat, slamming himself back into reality.

You decided to cut through the tension with some music, tapping the screen, music flooded the confided space. John humourlessly laughed. “Fucking Pitbull? Seriously?”

You shrugged “What? He’s a liberating man. Gets me hyped for missions.” He attempted to turn it off and you swatted his hand away, sending him a warning pointed finger. “My car my song choices so shut up and enjoy passenger princess.”

“Fuck you.” He grumbled.

“You wish, babe.” You snapped back and turned the music up louder just to wind him up even more.

A gruelling twenty minutes later and god knows how many mentions of ‘Mr Worldwide’, you pulled up to the hangar. John virtually threw himself out the car. You rolled your eyes and called him dramatic.

You both got into the jet and sat in the cockpit, John making a vulgar joke in reference to you in that area that a fifteen year old would laugh at.

You both set the craft to take you to a boat apparently carrying data about to be placed in the wrong hands just to the north of New York and you both had to stop it happening. “T-minus 30 seconds.” John confirmed as you both aligned yourself at the edge of the jet, ready for the drop as the team remotely controlled your guidance from the watchtower, Bucky’s voice in your ears.

“Keep safe, guys.”

“Too late now I’ve been assigned with Walker.” You replied and John’s head snapped to you, looking unimpressed. “Let’s go!” You leaped to the boat and John shortly followed, not quite letting go of that comment.

“I would have been done by now if I wasn’t waiting for someone to pick a wedgie out of her suit…” John said over everyone’s comms in retaliation.

You growled with your lips curled into a snarl “You’re a real piece of sh-“

“Reports are that he’s under the deck, sideboard,” Bucky cut you off. “You two better focus up, Jesus.” He sighed, he too like all the team sick of the bickering between you both.

You landed gracefully. John landed with a thud.

“You wanna just scream as well, Walker? Lord knows they just heard you land from Saturn.” You huffed as you both encroached further forward to the target, guns outstretched as you cleared the halls.

You could practically hear him roll his eyes, but decided not to comment on it as you approached voices. You both pressed back against opposite walls. John looked over to you, your eyes focused forward. Those eyes that would roll back as you laughed at one of Alexei’s terrible jokes. Those gorgeous eyes that allowed a tear to slip from them whenever they watched a sappy movie as a team.

John discreetly shook his head, trying to shake away his thoughts of you. Appearing thick and fast since the minute he met you. He focused as you both started creeping forward.

Both stopping at another wall just before coming to a room, you glanced to John. His eyes like lasers locked at the stream of light pouring from a door ever so slightly open. Those aquamarine eyes that would catch you off guard every single damn time you looked into them. Those stunningly striking eyes that when he smiled it reached them.

Your thoughts were conflicting, it caused butterflies in your stomach and scolding thoughts in your mind, your heart in the centre of a conflict.

Like it had been doing so since the day you met him.

A sudden movement from Johns hand indicated that you could advance forward. You peered in and saw the USB on the table, two figures with their backs to you. “Shit,” you whispered under your breath and he encouraged you to continue with a jolt of his head. “HYDRA, tattoo on back of his neck.” You also spoke into the comms, talking to Bucky more than the others. A past that would always haunt you both.

“Just take your time,” Bucky said “And don’t be-“

John shot first, he and one of the HYDRA agents catching glimpse of the other. You flipped into the room as John shot one of the agents, the other tried to grab the USB but you grabbed his arm and slammed him to the table, holding onto his arm until it snapped and he cried in pain. You grabbed the USB, along with some paperwork just as sirens blared. “Time to go!” You yelped placing the articles safely in your suit.

Three more agents came out of nowhere, shooting at you both, John instinctively and protectively hid you behind him and his shield. You grabbed the smoke flare from his belt from behind, his mind losing itself momentarily feeling your hand roughly grab hold of him.

You tossed it and white smoke filled the corridor, flashes of light from bullets being fired lit the space. The agents fell. “Stairs to the right!” John said and you followed, being greeted by another barrage of bullets.

“Keep moving,” you pushed John forward as you shot and so did he. “No mercy for them. HYDRA shoot to kill. They don’t want survivors.” You said in a raised voice, competing against the gunshots that subsided momentarily as you made your way through another corridor to get to the stairs.

John unintentionally snorted. “Then why did they take you?”

“State secrets. Different if you’re worth something.”

His features scrunched together, not that you saw. “I am worth something?” He said as if it were obvious. “I was Captain America.”

You intentionally snorted. “Pfft, you’ll embarrass both of us. Don’t flatter yourself, pal.” You pressed forward, a HYDRA agent appearing from out the blue, your leg came up to kick him down the stairs. The two of you had laboured breaths as you reached the top of the boat.

Out of no where, you were ambushed, punched in the stomach and a gun was pointed to your head. “Don’t try anything smart.” He warned both you and John, you both kept hold of your weapons but lowered them in surrender. “You’re more valuable than the information we can get.” He spoke into your ear, your eyes meeting with John’s and faltering for the first time, a weakness seeping into your veins. Those eyes of yours filling with tears as you tried your best not to break before him. “A lot prettier too…” he added licking his lips at you, John’s fist as well as his jaw and chest tightened.

He couldn’t bear to stand it.

‘Don’t’ you mouthed to him. A silent plead.

That was ignored.

In a matter of seconds, the piercing sound of gunfire rang through your ears as John attacked your assailant. You fell to the ground as quickly as the weapons in everyone’s hands did as the two men grunted and punched one another, you heard John wince in pain, the other man groaned.

John found himself on his back, the man with a wicked smile and a knife in his hand ready to plunge into his chest.

That was before a gun fired and he fell limp on top of the super soldier with blood seeping from his body. John pushed the man off him with ease, you were stood panting with the gun in your hand still pointed and freckles of the enemies blood on your face.

“What the hell are you playing at?!” You pushed him back with your hand slapping against his chest. “You fucking asshole! You could have died!”

John held his hands out and walked forward to you again. “Wow, be careful it’ll actually sound like you care about me. Also, you’re welcome.”

You growled, screaming your words. “FUCK YOU! Fuck you, you reckless piece of shit!” You walked to the edge of the boat.

“Calm down, I didn’t die!” He snapped.

You stopped and bit down on your lip, whatever feelings you had earlier being replaced by sheer adrenaline. “That’s not the goddamn point.” You bit out.

“Then what is the goddamn point so I can get back and get a fucking shower!” He yelled and you turned to face him.

“The goddamn fucking point is that I could have lost you!”

“Wel- what?”

Your eyes, still glossy, widened. You tried to compose yourself, ensuring you still had a bitter tone in your voice. “Wh-what? I said we could have lost you!” Forcefully ensuring venom remained laced between your words.

“No you didn’t.” John walked closer to you, practically trapping you between his body and the sea with your back against the railing. “You said ‘I could have lost you’.” The words you had said moments earlier repeated back to you caused a ringing in your ears. “Could bet my life on it.”

You scowled. “I wouldn’t bet your life on anything you’re so disgustingly reckless with it.” You scornfully spat and tired to walk away.

John’s strength pulled you back to the same spot. “No, no, no, this conversation isn’t over!”

“It is, John.”

You swallowed hard, squeezing your eyes shut at your words that were indeed getting you into bother now, his first name slipping from your lips like it was always meant to fall from there. “Shit, I meant Walker.” You shook your falling head, hand to his chest again as you tried to push him away still. “I meant, Walker.” You tried to convince him, but it was really yourself you were trying to do that to.

“Y/N…” he softly spoke, closing the space even more by placing his hands on your upper arms.

“Don’t.” Your voice cracked, your eyes looking at him almost piercingly as you managed to escape his hold. “You can’t. Don’t touch me.” You practically begged. “Not when…” you inhaled a shaky breath, taking in the extent of his injuries. “Not when you’re all bruised and bloodied and-“

“You guys good for Evac?” Bucky’s voice crackled over the comms. ‘Saved by the bell’ you thought and then looked at John, looking at you full of lorn. ‘Saved too late.’

“Y-yeah! Good to go.” You replied back, you turned just in time to let a tear fall from your eye and down your cheek.

Little did you know that John had done the same.

The ride back was painfully silent. You didn’t know which was the worser outcome- enduring this with John or being taken again by HYDRA. You kept your distance in the jet but when you made it back to the hangar the car felt like a coffin.

There was no chat, tense, locked jaws and certainly no Mr Worldwide to break the tension.

When you both arrived back to the watchtower, John practically stormed away from you, his hands slamming doors shut that were in his path to his room. The team all shot a concerned looked to one another, all aside from Bucky who was looking at you.

“Couldn’t have pulled us outta there any sooner huh?” You forcefully slammed the USB to Bucky’s chest so hard that it almost broke under your fingertips, the papers you picked up earlier were falling to the floor. He grabbed your wrist, wanting to talk it out with you. “If you didn’t owe me before you sure as hell do now.” You gritted out, reminding you both momentarily of your bitter past with him and HYDRA before pulling your limb from his grip and leaving to go to your room.

The second the door shut behind you, you stood in silence, your body frozen in place. You didn’t know whether to cry, scream, lay on your bed and never leave again.

You opted for neither of those options and instead decided for a hot shower to burn the last few hours off you. It didn’t work, it was like it was etched into your skin. You sighed, weakly pulling on a vest, hoodie and pyjama bottoms with every intention of trying to get some rest.

But you found yourself reaching into a cupboard trying to find medical supplies. “Ah shit!” You snapped as things fell and clamoured around you, your hands fumbling with the supplies.

“Hey what’s the matter? Let me help.” Bucky took things from your hands and placed them neatly into the kit. He had a once over glance of you to ensure it wasn’t you that needed medical attention. And then he smiled to himself. “You’ve finally realised.”

“Realised what?” You huffed out with crossed arms, letting him take full charge of the items that you were going to have to use on John because everyone knew he wouldn’t use them and actually take care of his own self.

“That you can’t stop the feelings you have for him. You like him.”

Hearing those words just solidified and confirmed your feelings, those feelings simultaneously excited and terrified you.

“I do not like-“ you tried to downplay it, act as if he was wrong and had misread the signs. But he knew you better than that and you let out a lungful of air at his unconvinced look at the words you were about to lie through your teeth with. “I do.” An admission finally aloud to you and the world. “Shit, I really do. I was only kidding myself.”

Bucky chortled “You really were, we’ve seen it on your face for months.” You groaned and placed your head in your hands, Bucky grabbed your shoulders and shook them playfully. “Just talk to him. Tell him! I mean you almost essentially did earlier…” he widely grinned and you sent him a deadpanned expression as you gathered the medical supplies in your arms.

You timidly sauntered to John’s room and knocked on the door with your knuckles. “Who is it?” He asked with a voice full of tiredness.

“It’s me, Y/N.”

A moment of nothing but the beating of hearts and the inhale and exhale of breaths passed.

“You can come in.”

You did as instructed and saw him on the bed, he had the same thought process when it came to showering away the last few hours as you did and was currently in his black sweats that lowly rode on his hips. His bare torso like a battleground, his face almost as bad. “Figured you’d be too full of pride and wouldn’t do this yourself.” You said approaching the bed with an arm full of bandages and saline solution wipes. You looked at the empty spot beside him, then to John and back again, silently asking for permission to sit next to him on his bed. He silently replied with a gentle bobbing of his head, allowing you to sit.

You sat with your legs in a basket next to him and unraveled the bandages, tore open the wipes, and cleaned up the fresh crimson cuts between his field of scars. Your fingers desperately trying to trace over every one and take away the pain he once felt from them.

John watched you between his lashes as you delicately took care of him. His heart, heavy and confused on the boat now full of hope and an abundance of feeling cared for.

“I’d like to talk about earlier.” He finally said after around ten minutes of you tending to his injuries.

“No.” You softly, but firmly, replied.

He looked up to you, eyes finally meeting after what felt like decades when in reality it had only been a mere few moments.

“Please.”

His gentle begging tone caused you to cave in. “Fine…” you said placing down the medical supplies and devoting your attention to John.

“I just want to know if you meant it.”

“Meant what?” You kicked yourself for trying to act so blasé.

“What you said.” His voice was firm and you responded in a tone as equal to his.

“Why? To inflate your ego bigger than it is now? This place will be like the house from ‘UP’ if I do.” You shifted, a burst of panic inside John thinking you were moving to leave- that wasn’t the case.

He didn’t know this however and took your wrist with his hand, everything that had build up inside him was rolling off his tongue like an avalanche.

“Because then it shows you actually care about me the same amount I care about you. And I need to know because it’s been fucking months! Months of smelling your perfume in a room after you’ve left and my heart still hoping you’ll be there. Months of wanting to hear you laugh all the time and that’s why I got Alexei that stupid dad joke book as a secret santa gift. Months of antagonising. Months of pinning over you!” His words flowed thick and fast, his free hand flapping around and tears burning his eyes. “If I thought for a second you actually had a piece of me- stupid, reckless, me- in your heart-“

“More than just a piece.” You finally said after the admission of the century, so had to make it fairer with an admission of your own. ”It’s a lot more than just a piece, John.” It was then he realised your other hand was cupped over the one holding onto you, your thumb softly stroking the blooming bruises on his knuckles.

A moment of silence passed. “My ego wants to know how big.” He smirked, you smiled and pushed him playfully.

“You dick.” You mumbled with a lighthearted laugh.

“But in all seriousness. I got a lotta baggage.” He sounded disappointed to admit, his eyes falling to the bed in shame. His personal life was a shambles, everyone knew it and he worried that would be the elephant in the room.

You gently squeezed his hand, capturing his attention again. “I do too. I guess we could help carry each others.” You told him, a mutual understanding of what you would both need to move forward, with your own lives and whatever this was blossoming into. You sighed shaking your head with a dumbfounded smile. “I thought you actually hated me…”

He chuckled “I thought the same.”

“The only thing I hate is the fact I could lose you.” You softly confessed. His eyes gazed into yours, he had looked into them so many times but now seeing something different. Something new. Something that spoke louder than any words.

You saw the same in his.

Then your eyes moved to one another’s lips, the distance between them disappearing when they finally, finally met. John’s hand reached up to cup your cheek, yours got to finally run through his hair, leaving it as tousled as the helmet made it.

The two of you held each other close throughout the night. You were careful not to aggravate any of his -now bandaged- cuts and bruises. John was careful with you as a whole, his arms protectively wrapped around you as you peppered kisses on one another throughout the night.

“Don’t you dare tell anyone.” You warned. “At least not yet.” John softly and tiredly laughed. He crossed his fingers over his chest.

“Cross my heart and hope to not die.”

[cosmickid-inmotion]

What: An event to highlight disability visibility in the Pedro Pascal and Oscar isaac fandom! Writings or art MUST include some disability. In the header, I have chosen 4 characters with canon disabilities, but you can write for anyone! For examples:

Marcus Acacius losing eyesight Llewyn with a reader with a reader with epilepsy Javier Pena x Steven Murphy and Steve has cancer

Fics and art can be NSFW, friends, romantic, canon characters only, x reader, solo fics, ETC. If you want to explore a bonus chapter within a series you already wrote, that works, but,

MUST BE NEW CONTENT!

Who: Anyone who wants to make art or write a fic!

Where: Tumblr, but if you want to post on ao3 and send a link that works!

When: Through the month of May!

Why: It's important for all of us to look at the beautiful diversity of this fandom! There have been many discussions around race and gender/sexuality biases especially in the PPCU recently, and I want to not derail, but rather add to this conversation.

Rules: I'll try to keep it simple

Not a dead dove event: While dark content can be discussed or shown and I am not a dark hater, please no dead dove, non con etc. Not for this event.

Minor characters are allowed, but obviously no NSFW minors. You want to have Marc and reader in their teens, thats fine! but not smut.

No minors!: I am aware I cannot stop nor do I wish to stop minors from reading, but interacting with this event is strictly 18+

Non-disabled people can write, and disabled folk can write for disabilities they do not have, but do research: Reach out to friends who have a disability you want to write about. Watch youtube videos. Read book and blog posts. I'll link some resources at the bottom!

TRY not to fall into trope or harmful traps. Again, I'll link tropes in the bottom, try our best!

Try to end light. This is about the beauty of diversity. Like with my pride event, I'm not naive to hardships the disability community faces and we can explore that, but lets not let that be the main focus.

Readmore: Use the READMORE option! I'll reblog all fics but ONLY if theres a readmore

Add alt text to any pictures. I have literally done this maybe twice and that's my fault. it takes a minute, I have no excuses, but its very important for people who use aids online.

And this isn't a rule but a few notes. try to avoid the inspiration porn shit. If you don't know what it is, look it up and if you're still not clear you can ask me! Also, I recognize major depressive disorder , PTSD, anxiety ETC can be disabilities, these are things that are depicted a fair amount in fics already. If you choose to write to draw with these disabilities, that is okay! I'm still more than happy to include your work! I just want to gently encourage people to think of other disabilites we can try to include so others feel welcomed!

And as always with my events, I want to encourage you to think beyond the standard x fem reader. It's all wonderful and beautiful, but if you wanted to write reflecting your experience as a black disabled woman or a trans disabled man or writing about Santi's experience being queer and disabled I WOULD LOVE TO SEE IT ALL!!

Events tend to not have a lot of art, so I'd really love to see artists participate too!

HOW: SEND ME THE LINK ASKS OR DMS! asks in preferred so I can keep track. Do to internet safety, I wont look at anonymous links. If you have to be on anon bc you use a sideblog (looking at you, Haru!) then tag me in your fic or post, I'll open up a dm with you on that blog and you can send it there. I''ve had issues in the past trying to keep things organized so this is best for me! Everything will be reblogged, and then put into a masterlist!

I will be posting the masterlist on my new blog, @cosmic-kid-in-motion. I wanted to start the event here where I actually have followers, but the final product will be on my new blog, transferring things over.

I am so excited to see what you all come up with!!!!

Disability Visibility Project: An online page talking about disability issues. The sight is ran by Ali Wong. She also has a book of essays from different people called Disability Visibility, I HIGHLY REC. We read this book and used this site heavility in my intro to disability class, its why I named the event this!

Ableist tropes in media

Youtuber who is a friend of mine, Andy

Deaf awareness by same youtuber

Another youtuber I like

Disabled palistinian comedian

If anyone has other links they recommend im all ears!

I also open for any questions, and if any other disabled tumblrinas wanna open up for questions, comment below! You totally dont have to, but a wider range is always great! I have a few physical and mental disabilites and like I mentioned, I took a class. Im also good friends with the tuber i linked above and he's done a lot of disability advocacy and I've learned a lot from him, So I feel confident but if theres another I dont know I'll open it up! Any input or ideas are welcome!!!

Im so excited to see what everyone comes up with!

[awearywritersworld]

the day of my execution

sukuna x reader summary: gojo, yuuji, and sukuna discuss what happened at the store. sukuna begins to consider your mortality like never before and takes care of you when you're sick. w/c: 2.7k tags/warnings: fluff. mentions of attempted kidnapping. banter. reader has the flu. aged up!yuuji. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. a/n: sorry for disappearing for so long, but here is the long awaited next chapter. i've put a second a/n at the end, so i hope you'll read it. please excuse me talking out of my ass trying to rationalize my application of jujutsu, but if gege does it, so can i. i hope it kind of makes sense though. series masterlist // masterlist

truthfully, yuuji expects his wednesday morning to be as uneventful as any other, but when he stands in front of the bathroom sink to brush his teeth, his eyes are not the only ones staring back at him.

"what d'ya want?" he groans. "it's too early for this."

"we need to talk."

sukuna doesn't give his vessel a chance to respond before he begins recounting the events of the previous night, a story which has yuuji's face cycling between surprise, worry, and dismay. "the man claimed someone sent him?"

"that's what i said," sukuna responds impatiently.

"why would anyone be after her? i don't understand."

"would it kill you to use your brain for once?" sukuna questions, having had the entirety of the night to ponder the situation. "think, idiot. who would be interested in using her in some ploy? against you. against... us."

yuuji's eyes widen. "the higher ups?

"no one else would be so brazen."

it strikes sukuna as ironic that just days after he relayed the cruelness he endured at the hands of jujutsu society's higher ups a millenia ago, you too almost became one of their victims. it's a reality that he despises.

"i should call gojo—"

"that is out of the question."

"do you want to keep her safe or not?"

sukuna scoffs. "this is how we keep her safe. if the higher ups are after her, we can't trust other sorcerers."

yuuji almost seems offended on gojo's behalf. after all, he's known him for the better part of a decade. "i'd trust gojo with my life."

"well this isn't your life we're talking about. this is much more important."

yuuji chuckles. "i know. that's exactly why we need help."

before sukuna can protest, yuuji's dialing his old sensei and asking to meet somewhere they can speak privately.

that's how they end up at a small bakery on the outskirts of tokyo, sukuna relaying the story for the second time that morning.

once he finishes, gojo leans back in his chair and folds his hands behind his head. "well, i don't think you're wrong about the higher ups being involved."

"so what are we supposed to do?" yuuji asks. "they might use her to get to me, but you don't think the higher ups would actually put her life in danger, do you?"

though yuuji's question is directed toward gojo, it isn't him that answers.

"you're as naive as ever," sukuna scoffs. "they'll stop at nothing to achieve their own ends."

gojo grimaces, a silent agreement with the assertion. "i can do some poking around, see who ordered it to be done."

"and what exactly is that going to do? there's no reasoning with them."

"a fact i am well aware of," the white haired man narrows his eyes at the king of curses. "but there is leverage in power, something i happen to have more of than anybody—"

"almost anybody—"

"so as the strongest, i'll take care of this as soon as i can."

"hey, um, so as productive as all the dick measuring is," yuuji interrupts. "it doesn't keep her safe in the meantime."

"i have an idea in that regard," sukuna says. "it's an ancient practice, and while it doesn't offer any protective measures, it will allow me to find her if they make another attempt like last night."

gojo leans forward, clearly interested to hear more.

"i can imbue a talisman with a part of myself and if she wears it, it will act as a beacon for her location."

"with part of yourself? as in, your cursed energy?" yuuji speculates. "wouldn't that do more harm than good? attract cursed spirits and whatever?"

"no, i'm not a fool. it's not cursed energy."

sukuna is hesitant to clarify further. he'd done something similar when creating his fingers, but it was different then. it was a selfish endeavor to preserve his life long after it was his time to die. it was a dark sort of jujutsu, one meant only to bring destruction.

but intention is important in sorcery. it can change the very essence of the practice.

for the first time in his life, sukuna is acting selflessly, concerned only with your protection. it's a pure sort of jujutsu this time around, one that allows him to impart a piece of himself that isn't tainted by cursed energy.

and because of that, that part of him would be unprotected. it'd leave him uniquely vulnerable. it's a steep and dangerous measure. that's why the practice had been forgotten long before the modern age.

"then what could it possibly be?" it's quiet for a moment as yuuji's question hangs in the air.

"it's your soul, isn't it?" the disbelief lacing gojo's voice is quite plain, but he's heard whispers of such techniques. "you'd give her a piece of your soul."

sukuna's never been one for unfinished business, so it's no surprise when he finds himself on the couch, intent on finishing the stranger. besides, it had become clear he'd been focusing on the wrong aspects of the book when he first began reading it.

he's three chapters from the end when he hears a loud shatter from the kitchen, followed by a sharp gasp. the broken glass hasn't even finished sliding across the floor before he's at your side.

"what happened?" the alarm in his voice doesn't go unnoticed by you.

"nothing, nothing," you assure him. "i just dropped my cup."

crouching down, you reach for one of the bigger pieces before your hand is swiftly smacked away. "don't."

"it's fine. it's only a little glass."

when you reach for it again, he grabs your wrist. "you troublesome little thing. do you ever listen?"

"i don't make a habit of it."

"i know. the question was rhetorical."

sukuna's already noticed the shards of glass surrounding your bare feet, so he wastes no time in picking you up and placing you on the countertop.

"don't move." he says it in such a way that, for once, you don't even think about disobeying him.

he all but stomps out of the room, returning moments later with a broom and dust pan. there's a small smile playing on your lips as you watch him gather the larger pieces before sweeping up the rest.

and you know, it's really not fair. sukuna could even call it a cosmic injustice, the way he has to worry about broken glass and fragile fingertips.

but he likes you and he likes the pads of your fingers, particularly the way they feel against his skin and run through his hair, so he swallows his pride.

it's been consuming him lately— the fact that you are just as easily broken as the glass that littered the kitchen tile. he never considered just how many ways there are for a human to die until you were nearly taken from him.

so once he's done, he rests the broom and dustpan against the wall and stands in front of you, his hips situated between your knees.

reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a necklace and your mouth falls open in shock. a delicate chain is threaded around his fingers, while its ruby pendant dangles in the air. "i want you to have this."

"what.. what is it?"

he snorts. "you don't know what a necklace is?"

you let out a breath of a laugh. "of course i do. i'm just surprised."

you hold up your palm and he places the necklace there gently. inspecting the gem, you notice it bears a striking resemblance to the color of his eyes.

strangely, it's almost as if it's heavier than it should be— like it's weighed down by some importance beyond your comprehension.

"it's beautiful," you tell him honestly. "are you sure?"

"sure of what?"

"that i should have it."

he pauses before responding, taking in the way you're so gingerly holding it. he's scared you've realized what he's actually giving you. that you're repulsed by it.

he's hesitant when he asks, "why would you think otherwise?"

"i didn't do anything to deserve something like this."

sukuna breathes a sigh of relief. "you are ever the fool."

his hands find your hips, pulling you off the counter and onto your feet. he plucks the necklace from your hand, then shifts to stand behind you.

moving your hair to the side, his fingers brush lightly against your skin. "the necklace is undeserving of adorning your neck. not the other way around."

and he knows it's the truth. a piece of him, attached to a creature so lovely she should be out of his reach... well, that's just unseemly, isn't it?

"but promise me something anyway."

"anything," you say without delay.

he situates the chain around your neck, the pendant lying in the space where your collarbones meet, and fastens the clasp. when you turn to face him, you're met with an alarmingly grave expression.

"promise you won't ever take it off."

you fiddle with the ruby somewhat nervously, feeling as if you're missing some important piece of the puzzle.

you nod in response to his request, but it isn't enough for him.

"say it."

"i promise."

he can see that you're biting back questions, so he explains, "if you're wearing that, i'll always know where to find you."

it finally dawns on you, for the first time, how much the incident at the store truly affected him. it's not the way he ended those men that clued you in, nor is it the way he pleaded with you to forgive him.

it happens in this moment. it's the gentleness of his voice, despite his underlying desperation. it's the way he's watching you carefully, as if you're likely to disappear. it's the fact he wouldn't let you clean up a mess of your own making, because he can't stand the thought of seeing you bleed.

"i... i don't know what to say."

"well, that's a first."

"shut up," you punch his shoulder. "you're ruining the moment."

"right, my bad," he chuckles and glances down at the gemstone. "do you like it?"

you let out a breath. "of course. i love it."

he smiles at your words— soft and genuine— truly a rare sight. "good."

you notice that he's looking at you. really looking at you. his eyes shift away from yours and over to each of your temples. then down to your nose. your mouth. even your chin.

he takes in every detail and he feels like he's in your debt simply for gazing at your countenance.

you almost regret it when your hands curl around the collar of his shirt and pull his lips to yours. you should have savored his smile, spent time committing it to memory.

although, that's soon forgotten as you feel the curve of his mouth deepen while his lips move against yours.

it isn't until day three of your ceaseless coughing and sneezing that sukuna adds them to his list— broken glass, fragile fingertips, coughs, and sniffles.

his concern is clear from the way he dotes on you. he brings you cold cloths, makes you tea, massages your neck, runs you baths.

now he's on his way to a twenty four hour pharmacy to pick up more medicine to reduce your fever, and while it's only a block away, he's still doing it alone.

but not even for a moment does he consider running off to burn the world's largest city to the ground. the streets are crawling with people, but he finds himself avoiding them more than anything.

he has to get back to you after all.

the only thought on his mind other than you is the ending of the stranger. the main character, while awaiting his beheading from his prison cell, conveys his final words to readers:

for the first time, in that night alive with signs and stars, i opened myself to the gentle indifference of the world. finding it so much like myself— so like a brother, really— i felt that i had been happy and that i was happy again. for everything to be consummated, for me to feel less alone, i had only to wish that there be a large crowd of spectators on the day of my execution and that they greet me with cries of hate.

in sukuna's first life, perhaps this line would have resonated with him. it was a life where he had resolved himself to the idea that nothing really mattered, because the alternative was too painful. it didn't matter that jujutsu society betrayed him. it didn't matter that he stole people's lives out from under them. it didn't matter that he was alone.

and while he would have never surrendered himself to execution, if that had been his fate, he would have preferred to go out surrounded by living reminders of all he had accomplished. surrounded by all the people he had ruined.

however, when he imagines such an occurrence happening in his present life, there is only one face throughout the entire crowd and it belongs to you.

the very thought makes him sick with grief.

looking up, he realizes that there are no stars in tokyo anymore, that there is no feeling of indifference when it comes to you, and that there is no happiness to be had when you are not by his side.

he knows he'll never shed another drop of innocent blood if it means you'll always have that look of adoration in your eyes when your gaze falls on him.

so his trip to the pharmacy is short and hurried.

opening your apartment door, he's careful to be quiet in case you're sleeping, but he finds you peering at him from the couch.

your hair is disheveled. there's a sheen of sweat across your forehead. your eyes are beyond tired. your shirt is wrinkled.

you're still the most pleasing thing he's ever laid eyes on.

"you're back," you rasp.

"i'm back," he affirms, slipping off his shoes.

you sit up and quickly regret it, your hand coming to rest against your stomach. "god, i feel like i'm gonna puke."

"charming."

you use all your strength to throw a pillow at him, which he easily catches before tossing something small in your direction— a ginger chew to help with the nausea.

you unwrap it and pop it in your mouth. "thanks."

he hums in response, settling down in the spot beside you. once he pulls the medicine from the bag, it's followed by two bottles. "got you these, too."

recognizing them as your favorite drink, your exhausted and delirious brain makes your eyes well up with grateful tears. "you're so sweet."

"yeah, whatever. don't get used to it."

"but you are. you're sweet and kind, except i'm the only one who knows it," you pause before continuing, your head falling onto his shoulder. "why is that?"

he contemplates denying that he possesses any such quality, but decides against it. "you're the only one who's ever cared to know."

he can feel the heat of your temple through his shirt, so he opens the box of fever reducers and pops out two tablets before handing them to you. "take these. you're burning up."

you do as he says without protest. standing up and stretching your arms above your head, sukuna's eyes wander to where your shirt rides up and reveals your stomach.

"c'mon, let's go to bed," you yawn.

he follows after you wordlessly, carelessly pulling off his shirt and climbing into bed beside you. curling up against his side, your head comes to rest on his chest and it's quiet for a few passing moments.

"you can't see the stars from tokyo anymore."

"what?" you ask sleepily.

"the stars. there's too much light to see them from here."

"oh, yeah. we can take a trip to the mountains soon. you can see them pretty well from there."

"i'll hold you to that."

and so with the promise of a beautiful night sky, with the company of someone who means the world to him, and with the feeling of your body pressed against his— sukuna feels that he had been happy and that he was happy again.

a/n 2: hey! so i'm sorry again for stopping updates without really saying anything. i think i just needed to step away from tumblr and writing for a while because i was getting a bit overwhelmed. i was also a little unsure about the direction of this chapter. i was struggling to incorporate the necklace part without it seeming cheesy or weird. that being said, thanks as always to everyone for your support of this series. it's really heartwarming and much appreciated. if you have any feedback, i'd love to hear! i'm not sure when the next update will be, but i'll do my best to keep you guys posted. all my love - m<3

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[mercy-burning]

Christmas Miracles

Mercy’s Ficmas 2024 | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer aims to comfort you after a rather explosive breakup with your boyfriend during your Christmas party. Category: Fluff Content: Yelling, sad Reader, drunk Penelope (she's my fav, what can I say), a mistletoe kiss, Spencer is a yearner (he is also my fav, what can I say) Word Count: 2.6k

The first day of Ficmas has arrived! I'm starting you off strong with some short 'n sweet fluffy pining goodness <3 (who am I lmao)

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It's not uncommon for the holidays to be a lonely, depressing time for some. It's covered up in ribbons and bows and sparkling lights, but really, under the surface can lie a lot of darkness.

Spencer can see that in you— Not just this holiday season, though it's apparent now more than ever just how unhappy and exhausted you seem. When you're at work day after day, constantly thinking about and putting away criminals, and even then you seem more happy than you do when you're around your significant other, that's when there's a problem. And surely you must know how your friends have noticed... There's no way you couldn't have; It's practically all of your jobs to notice.

Still, you don't say or change anything about it.

He knows it isn't his place, but Spencer wonders why. His heart breaks for you, each and every time the jet touches down and your eyes darken with the realization that you're one step closer to going home. Home should be an escape from work, and not the other way around. Many times he's even offered to go somewhere with you as a distraction, a silent confession that screams, "I know you're not happy, but it doesn't have to be that way. You don't deserve to feel that way. And I'm here for you." Sometimes you agree and tag along, sometimes you don't. Every time, Spencer wishes you could see yourself the same way he and everyone else does.

And more than anything, he wishes that asshole of a man that calls himself your boyfriend would fall off the face of the Earth. In fact, "asshole" is too tame of a word to describe him, and "man" way too kind.

Much is apparent as the muffled argument rings high and dims the twinkling atmosphere of your apartment. The lights on your Christmas tree flicker in and out like they know that something is inherently wrong, like they're dying out and being suffocated by the thick tension.

Spencer's heartbeat flickers right alongside them, his gut twisting as your hurt and angry words cut through, sharp as a knife.

Finally, Derek's voice offers a bit of distraction, though not a very good one. "So, when are you going to swoop in and save the day?"

He winces. "She doesn't want my help. I already do what I can, but... It's best to let her handle it the way she wants to."

"Seriously? She's having a miserable time at her own Christmas party because of that dickwad, and you and I both know damn well that you're the only one who's gonna be able to help her out of it."

This time, your boyfriend raises his voice, cutting you off and making Spencer jump. He looks at the ground and continues the conversation with Morgan to try and distract himself. "I'll do what I can, but I'm not..."

He can't think of the right words, though Morgan seems to get the sentiment; He playfully nudges him with his elbow. "Why not? It's not exactly a big secret that you're in love with her or anything. And besides, we all know you'd treat her a thousand times better than—"

"It doesn't matter, okay? I'm not going do anything like that; I mean, they haven't even technically broken up, anyway, so... No."

Morgan sighs, and JJ offers a thought— how the last thing a woman wants after a fight with a man is another man to swoop in and try to whisk her away, no matter how good his intentions are. Morgan explains in turn that he's not actually suggesting any flat-out advances, and in a matter of minutes, the entire BAU ends up in a discussion weighing Spencer's options.

And then, the musing amongst the group comes to a close, but only at the screeching sound of your voice.

"You know what? Then you can leave!"

There's a collective gasp, a holding of breaths and clutching of champagne glasses in anticipation of the end, which comes crashing in with a resounding and cathartic, "And don't you ever come back! We're through! I never want to see your stupid face ever again!"

The door slams, and an immediate hushed chorus of cheers is not far behind. Morgan firmly pats Spencer's shoulder, as Rossi raises his glass and muses, "It's a Christmas miracle."

The real miracle, Spencer thinks, is you; even as your spirit waltzes back into the living area in pieces. Easily the most bright and beautiful soul he's ever known, it nearly crushes him to know how awful you probably feel in that moment, for something that isn't even your fault. He sympathizes, but more than anything he wants to reassure you that nothing could ever deter his steadfast belief in the simple fact that you are the only miracle one could ever need.

Penelope rushes to your side and embraces you in a warm hug, to which you drop your gaze to your feet.

"I'm sorry... I ruined your night."

"My dear, you've ruined absolutely nothing," Rossi offers gently.

His words elicit a sniffle from you, and then you're turning your head into Penelope's shoulder, hiding your face and slumping full-force into her arms. JJ and Emily rush over and pile on in a group hug, handing their drinks to Hotch. He's stayed verbally neutral over the situation, but Spencer can see the relief and hope resting in his expression as your grief slowly dissipates. A Christmas miracle, indeed, his smile seems to say.

The lights on the tree seem to brighten at the breath of fresh, unwavering life in the atmosphere that feels very much like love. A proper family. A support system. A warmth.

Spencer feels that warmth vibrantly in his fingertips— Even hours later in the cold, out on your balcony as he mindlessly observes the city below, every sharp breath of December air filling his lungs in slow, steady cycles. New snow isn't falling, but the streets are glittering with what's already there, every speeding headlight making the ground dance below him.

He wishes it were more quiet; something about the eerie silence of winter and the unexplainable feeling that somehow it might heal something within himself. Everything is always so loud, even as he closes his eyes to drift off into sleep. There's always some sort of man-made noise going on, whether it be a fan, or traffic outside his window, or even the quiet rustling of Hotch's paperwork on the way home from a case. For once, he thinks, it might be nice to drift off with nothing but the winter wind carrying him to sleep.

For now, though, he settles for car engines and crunching snow and the muffled bellows of joy beyond your patio door.

The joy crescendos for a moment, and Spencer turns his head to catch your glowing silhouette emerging from the door. The warmth he feels only pulses, hotter and brighter than before.

"There you are," you exclaim softly, stepping outside and closing the door. "Aren't you freezing out here?"

"Not really," he muses.

You take stance beside him, crossing your arms and overlooking the streets just as he'd been doing moments before. A soft smile ghosts over your lips, and on a breath out, your shoulders relax. "Great view, huh?"

"It is," Spencer confirms. "It's certainly better than the buildings I get to look at."

The laugh that escapes you in a cloud of visible air is quite possibly the most beautiful sound to him, especially when it's because of something he said. If he could indulge in the pleasure of making you laugh for the rest of his life, he would take the chance in a heartbeat.

"Well, then you're welcome on my balcony any time."

"Thank you," he says, trying not to give himself away as he feels the butterflies creeping their way in. With a nervous smile, he clutches his scarf. "I'll hold you to it. It's a nice balcony."

He kicks himself for that last part, inwardly cursing his inability to filter out the awkward, unnecessary sentences. He could keep talking and make it worse, but he ultimately decides that scrunching his nose in shame and passing it off as being chilled is the better choice. If you notice, you don't let on.

Taking that as a good sign, Spencer tries to relax. He breathes out, and you turn to him. "Are you... having a good time tonight?"

"Of course I am," he answers, perhaps a little too quickly. "I mean, you throw a great party."

You laugh again. This time the sound huffs out of you with a resounding sadness that cracks his heart once more. "It's not anything, really— just some lights, music, and drinks... But thank you anyway."

Before he has time to think better of it, Spencer calls you out by name, quick to defend you. But then he pauses, unsure of what else to say. He doesn't want to bring up your breakup and make you feel worse, but... what else can he do? The only thing that feels right is the need to remind you how inherently good you are.

So, that's what he does.

"You shouldn't sell yourself short. I... We all love you and we're glad to be with you, regardless of how... grand it is. Just being yourself is grand enough. You don't even need the lights or the drinks, or... him. You're better than all of those things combined."

At first you look pained, the mention of your ex-boyfriend exacting immense pressure on a fresh bruise, and Spencer almost regrets it— almost; Your features soften moments later as his words settle in and seem to melt away the pain, revealing a layer of disbelief and confusion. And then, softness.

Your lip trembles as you struggle to speak. "You don't... have to... say that."

"Yes. I do." As firmly as he possibly can while still being gentle, he reaches out and clutches your hands with his own. He hopes that whatever warmth he has immediately draws itself to you and wakes you up. He wills it to comfort you and make you see—make you feel. His fingers are desperate in their pursuit to love you, their grip unwavering and brimming with hope.

When your eyes meet his, he nearly collapses. There's so much love and relief and bewilderment sparkling in them that he suddenly feels the overwhelming urge to get lost in their depths—to explore and study each emotion until he knows every aspect of you. He almost forgets how to speak for a moment, his mouth dry and the concept of what he wants to tell you being clear as day, reflected in your eyes, as the words themselves slowly become less tangible.

All he can manage to say is the simple, unabashed truth. The love he has for you rests perfectly within those three words, anyway. They ring out and linger in the December air, floating softly around you like a feather, until it lands on your nose and wakes you up from your deep, dark reverie, releasing you into the light once again.

"You're utterly remarkable."

You clutch onto his hands like you've just been pulled from a frozen lake, grasping for any semblance of stability, and he's right there to guide you as you draw yourself closer to him. His heart beats loud and fast as you sigh out and smile, tears welling in your glimmering eyes.

"Thank you, Spencer," you breathe out sincerely in a broken whisper.

He smiles back at you, a weight lifting from his chest as he tells you, "Of course." As if it's the most natural thing in the world to express how wonderful you are.

A sudden burst of energy comes sweeping across the balcony as a loud, bellowing voice makes an expression of their own. It's Penelope, giggling and bubbly as ever.

"Hey! You two! It's present time! Get your pretty faces in here pronto!"

She's gone as quickly as she had appeared, leaving the door open a crack as you laugh and drag Spencer by the hand to follow.

He's grateful for the shift in activity, unsure how much longer he could have been out there alone with you before he said something he regretted. Not that he'd been looking for anything theatrical by any means, but in truth, the entire evening feels like it had been a movie, wrapped up in a neat little bow as the two of you cross the threshold into the rolling credits. The rest of his feelings he could deal with tomorrow, but for now, he's satisfied with this conclusion.

You stop as you approach the door, huffing a short laugh.

"What is it?" Spencer asks as you let go of him and turn around, plucking something from the panel of wood. From your delicate finger hangs a bundle of mistletoe. It sways gently in the wind before you clutch it in the palm of your hand.

"I always come out here after a fight... Guess I figured he might try to make it up to me or something... Like I knew he was going to let me down again..."

The words are sad, but your tone drips with amusement, or something close to it. You feel the plant in your hand, looking down at it and then back at Spencer.

His body freezes under your gaze, the implications sending him into a numbing warmth that both pleases and scares him in equal measure.

"You never let me down," you continue, stepping closer and interlocking his hand with yours, the mistletoe trapped in between. "I want to thank you for that."

Your face leans in, and at this point his heart is beating so loudly he can hear it drowning everything else out. He can barely hear himself stutter out, "It's not a problem, really... And I know you just got out of a relationship, so... You don't have to..."

"Yes. I do."

You kiss his cheek, firmly and quickly, and yet you don't fully retreat. Your lips linger near his jawline, and you squeeze his hand and whisper, "Thank you," against his skin.

He can feel the words worming their way into his pores and leaving trickles of static in their wake, spreading through him like lightning. Their sincerity moves him, and drives home your miraculousness with such force that he can't help but tilt his head down and capture the lips that uttered them in a swift, soft kiss of his own.

You press yourself into him effortlessly, a gesture that makes him wish he had the ability to stop time and keep it trapped in the palm of his hand and yours, like the mistletoe. He could spend forever in this moment if he were granted it.

But alas, time cannot be stopped, and neither can Penelope Garcia.

She bangs on the door and yells impatiently again. "Presents!"

You and Spencer break away in a collective laugh. He feels lightheaded and lovesick, every nerve ending alight with your essence.

"Okay, okay!" you yell over your shoulder, removing yourself from him completely this time and taking the mistletoe with you. You shove it in his coat pocket with an adorable scrunch of the nose and shuffle inside.

The moment you're out of sight, pulled back into the party and leaving him alone on the balcony to follow, he finally breathes out. And the slow inevitable smile that break out over his face feels bright enough to light the entire city.

The mistletoe hums vibrantly in his pocket through the rest of the night—his very own tangible reminder of a miracle; That time, for one brief moment, could stand still.

[littlestsheriff]

mama's little sheriff

paring: mama! cait x masc regressor! reader

summary: sometimes being a big boy just it doesn't work and caitlyn knows that

tags: agere, age regression, cg! caitlyn kiramman, regressor reader, comfort, comfort itens, boyre, boy regressor, sfw, fluffy, sheriff caitlyn, reader regressed around 2-4

autor notes: it's my first regressor reader fic in a while, i hope you like it :)) credits for lottiesboy and criblver for the style! if u want to check, i already have another fanfics on my wattpad :]

You knock on the door and enter carefully. Caitlyn is focused on talking to some enforcers, discussing some important information. But out of the corner of her eye, she notices you and signals for you to enter the room. You're visibly upset about something and she picks up on it. The conversation seems to go on forever, but she assures you that it's already over. Once the enforcers have left the room, she gets up from her chair and walks towards you.

"Darling, what's wrong? You seems a little upset. Is there something bothering you?"

Anxiety takes over your body, you can't respond except for a nervous glance at Caitlyn. She gently puts her hands on your face, trying to calm you down.

"It's alright sweetie. You can tell me what's upsetting you. Im here to help you, you know that, right?"- She says in her soft voice.

You hesitate, but Caitlyn's gentle gaze makes your heart calm and you nod.

"It's because... I failed. I'm sorry"- You say with a sad look in your face.

Her heart melts as she listens you. She gentle places her hand on your shoulder.

"Sweetheart, it's okay. Everyone make mistakes. We all fail sometimes. What happened, my darling boy?"

"I supposed to be a big boy now, but i can't even do that... I failed with you"- You try your best to not let yourself slip

Caitlyn's heart aches at your words. Her maternal instincts kick in seeing you so vulnerable and little. She pulls you into a hug, holding you close to her, feeling how little you are at the moment.

"Oh my love, don't say that. You've never failed to me, never. I know sometimes is too difficult to be a big boy, isn't it?"

You dont answer, just nods with a sad puppy face. Her heart aches even more, trying to sooth you, stroking your hair.

"It's okay, baby. You don't need to be big all the time. Sometimes you just need a little time"- She says with a tender gaze. "You're feeling small now, that's my priority. I can take a break and stay with you, okay darling?"

You feel the guilt sinking into your chest. Caitlyn would have to take time off work to look after you and that makes you feel guilty.

"But mam- Cait, im supposed to be a big boy"

Her heart aches as she listens to you, she gentle cups your face, caressing your cheek with her thumb.

"Shhh, baby. There's no supposed to be anything. You don't have to be big if you can't. Somtimes It's doesn't work and that's okay, alright? You don't have to force yourself to be big if you're feeling so little. Mama is always here for you, my love"

She pulls you into a embrace, gentle rocking you. And you two stay in that silent embrace, but it is cozy.

"Okay, baby boy, now let youserlf completely slip into your little headspace, alright? Mama's here to take care of you"

"But mama, and what if one of your enforcers see me regressed? I can't let myself slip here"

"Oh, i got it sweetheart. I understand why you're worried. But don't worry, no one will barge in or catch you in your little boy mode, i promise you. But even if they do, mama will handle it. I'll keep my kid safe"

Seeing your mama's confidence makes you feel better, less worried. You can't help but chuckle

"Using your sheriff power again mama, how naughty"

Caitlyn chuckles, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischievousness

"You know me too well, right, baby boy? Of course I'll use my sheriff power if i've to. I'm not gonna let anyone mess with my kiddo, no metter where we are or who sees us. Mama's a sheriff, and also a Kiramman, no one can mess with her"- She gives a cheeky smile to you. "And we can lock the door, it will give us more privacity and you can be my adorable little boy. Mama will use her sheriff power and no one will disturb us"- She says, smiling to you.

She take some steps until the door and lock it, then back to you. Your eyes wander to your backpack near the couch, remembering what you brought with you.

"I brought something"

Caitlyn follows your gaze to the backpack near to the couch, and her curiosity is piqued.

"Oh, you brought something with you? What is inside the bag, my love? Show mama. I'm curious to see what you have"

You walk over to the backpack, pick it up and open it, revealing what's inside, some of your regression gear. Caitlyn takes some steps closer.

"Oh, my prince, you brought your gear with you? That's so sweet. You want to choose by yourself or do you want mama to pick for you?"- She says with her voice filled with affection.

You look to her with your puppy face and she knew you started to regress further.

"Mama choose"

She smiles gently and nods

"Of course, prince. Mama will pick for you. I know what my baby boy needs"

She glances through the itens, carefully considering each item. Then, she selects a blue pacifier and a puppy plush. Caitlyn gently lifts the paci between your lips, slipping it into your mouth. Then she hands the plush to you.

"Here you go, baby. All comfy now?"- She gentle asks, with a maternal tone.

You nod and she smiles to you. She sits on her chair and pats her lap, signaling to you come to her lap.

"Come here, baby boy!"

You runs to her and sits in her lap excited. She can't help but chuckle with your enthusiasm.

"Here you go, my little prince. Sitting right here where you belong, in mama's lap. Let me hold you for a moment, okay?"

You nod and rests your head on her chest and she begins to rock you gently. The time seems to stop when you're in Caitlyn's lap, being wrapped in her warmth like a blanket. Then, the paperwork on her desk catch your attention, seemed a very important document. She notices your glance at her paperwork.

"You curious about mama's paperwork? Let me show you"

Caitlyn picks the document on the desk and shows to you. She explain to you the importance of her work. Then, back the paper to the desk.

"So, darling, i need to finish them, but don't worry, i'll wold you all the time and you can be my little helper and keep me company, okay?"

"I'll be a sheriff like mama?"- You ask with your eyes shinning

She can't help but chuckle. She give a kiss on your forehead, filled with affection.

"Of course you'll. Now you are a little sheriff, mama's little sheriff. Can you be a good boy for mama and stay still for me? I promise it won't take long"

You nod with a smile behind your pacifier, Caitlyn smiles back to you and kiss the top of your head. She gently adjusts you on her lap, making sure you're comfortable. She also grabs a couple of documents in one hand, while gently runs her fingers through your hair with the other hand.

She starts working through her paperwork, her focus mostly on the documents in the desk. But that doesn't mean she didn't pay attention on you, she still keeps her other hand around you, occasionally giving head pats and caresses, or murmuring sweet words and praises.

You just relax in her arms, feeling her warmth and the material of her uniform. Having you against her brings the sense of comfort she needs to concentrate on the task. When the pile of document seems smaller, she lets out a satisfied sigh.

"Almost done, my little sheriff! You don't know how much I want to cuddle with you"- She says with her voice filled with affection.

Don't let too much to her finish all the paperwork, organizing the last pile of documents. She sighs in relief, relaxing in the chair. You give a smile to her as a praise for her work.

"Good job mama!"

Caitlyn's heart melts in affection, she gives a gentle kiss on your cheek.

"And good job for being a well-behaved little boy. Thanks for being so patient to mama, made everything easier for me focus and get my work done. You're the best little sheriff"

You look at her with your big puppy eyes.

"Now we can cuddle?"

"Of course, my darling! We can cuddle as long you want. You've deserve some cuddles for being a excellent good boy! Mama loves you so much"

She gently wraps her arms around you, rocking back and forth. Sometimes being a big boy is a hard task, but that's okay, because mama is always there to make things easier.

[infamous-if]

Dec ✮ 12 ✮ 2024 – update

Part of me hates doing these mostly because it's a whole lotta nothing and me just repeating everything I said the last update (lol) but I do like doing it because I like keeping people updated, even if it's a non-update. I may sound like a broken record (pun not intended) but I know a lot of people don't catch my updates every time so it's nice to just keep people informed yk yk

✮ — Part 2 + rewrite

Fun fact: I had written an entire essay about my excitement for the rewrite and chapter 3 and beyond but it got too long!

It boiled down to me wondering why I'm so excited for this rewrite and realizing it's because I feel comfortable enough to approach it with complete creative freedom. I wrote the first iteration of the demo with the constant worries swimming in my head like "I hope people understand what I'm trying to say here" and "I hope this situation is being read the way I intended for it to be read." And I think I sort of had those thoughts tenfold while writing Part 2. If you paid attention, you can probably see where I was trying to shut down certain discussions in the narrative lmao

Recently I had a tiny epiphany and reminded myself that it's not always about what I intend to write, but what is being understood by each reader. And yes this is basic writing 101 but let me have this moment of clarity okay. Embracing that means I can proceed with Infamous without holding back and sticking to my guns in regards to what I want for this story aka I'm just going to write what I write and like....not worry about the rest you feel (while of course integrating the common critiques and suggestions and improving on the things Infamous falls short in—I am not Shakespeare lmao)

ANYWAY my point is that I'm excited to fix up the demo !!! and just go back to it with complete confidence in myself and write whatever the heck feels right to me (and write the rest of the story lolol) and return with a better story than I have now for everyone!!

✮ — December will be for

planning what I'm going to improve and squeezing that in a reworked outline so it can flow much better narratively.

Outlining Chapter 3 and hopefully have the bare bones first draft drafted up which is mostly just be writing blocks of descriptions

I'm not sure I'll have anything substantial to justify looking for beta testers so soon yet but maybe!

work on my spice writing babey writing/reading spice makes me actually physically recoil but im determined to get better! which reminds me to finish the 6k follower gifts!

And also take a small breather because I am moving!

✮ — Patreon

I've already mentioned this on Patreon and a few times on here, but I do want to reiterate that Patreon content is coming out in bulk this month, in case anyone was wondering why I'm not posting as frequently. The content is still the same in terms of the quantity, it just won't be released every few days! thank you guys for being understanding of that <3

✮ —

My activity has is decreasing little by little due to my move but I do read every question and try to at least answer one question a day. I get quite a few mentions lately so I have to sort through those since I do get tagged in things, but I miss them due to my notifications. Usually I hope for the best and hope tracking the tag puts it on my dashboard <3 im not ignoring anyone!

That's all for now! Hope everyone has a happy December and Happy Holidays!

[honorhearted]

Recommend 6 Blogs? Ones you think should be followed and why.

//Oh gosh, well...this kind of thing makes me leery since I'm always afraid of leaving someone out (I tend to be forgetful, and it's nothing personal), so I'll preface this by saying that if I follow you, I 1,000% think you're worth following! <3 I'm also going to do this in alphabetical order, cuz I don't want to rank anyone either!

1) @brooklynislandgirl ~ Super sweet and friendly, with a very fleshed out, well-written OC. Turtle's pro se always makes me want to try 10,000x harder so that I can match her quality! If I ever wanted to roll in someone's writing like a pile of leaves, hers would be it. <3 I get a lot of joy every time I read her replies.

2) @dreaminganthea ~ A new friend, but no less valuable! I enjoy her OC, as well as the period drama m.emes/posts she reblogs. And it's also fun to chat OOC with her about Ben/Seth, cuz obviously, I need more outlets to be annoying about them lol.

3) @faithhearted & @retrograderesemblance ~ These two are getting tagged as a package deal, cuz they're my ride-or-dies (apologies in advance, and/or my c.ondolences lol). Anyone who's been following me since the beginning shouldn't be surprised to see their names, cuz...well...just look at how often they pop up on my blog lol. I'm always in awe of their diabolical plot ideas, and how much they bring to the table. They research SO much for their OCs, and it honestly puts me to shame. Can't give enough praise in the world! <3

4) @morgansmornings ~ Very kind and fun to talk to, and with a great OC who she's super passionate about. I love all the lore, and seeing how she interacts with Ben. Our thread is definitely more lighthearted than most of mine, and I love that little breather; though I also see the potential for more, which is always the best kind of writing experience. :)

5) @resolutevalor ~ Aly is my oldest mutual! <3 I only created Ben cuz of her Anna, so if you're sick of seeing me here, blame her LoL. I've really been enjoying our Ben/Y.elena interactions lately, and she has a great grasp and passion for all her characters in general. Always great to see her on my dash!

6) @savingthrcw ~ I honestly wasn't sure which of her blogs to tag, cuz they're all great! I first started writing with Ele on her Emma S.wan page, and the chaos began from there lol. She has an insanely intuitive grasp of every character we've ever discussed. Even though I've obviously been (obsessively) studying Ben since 2020, after I convinced Ele to watch TURN, I was always so impressed by her analyses -- and yes, she pointed out some things I'd never truly considered! With that said, she brings that same level of attention to detail with her own muses, and she always has a lot of passion and eagerness to interact with the RPC.

Bonus (cuz I said so!): @marisetcaelum ~ We've been mutuals for a couple years, iirc, but never really got to interact much until now. I'm really enjoying getting to know both them and their OC, Bird, and I have a feeling Bird's going to be too much for Ben to handle lol. Mun's yet another person I've suckered into watching TURN, and I'm not sorry at all. >:)

@ Everyone else: YOU ARE OVERFLOWING WITH TALENT, AND I ADMIRE YOU!!! <3

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @subeddieweek, day two.

A Firm Touch

Prompt: First Time | Word Count: 1912 | Rating: E | CW: Reference to Past Recreational Drug Use | Tags: First Time, Established Relationship, Being Restrained, Light Praise Kink, A Bit of Subspace, Insecure Eddie, Virgin Eddie, Service Top Steve, Working Out The Kinks (Literally), Boys in Love, Just Trying to Figure Themselves Out

Eddie squirms away from Steve's grasp, again, another night fucking ruined and Steve sighs in frustration. Running his hand through his hair. He's disheveled, and Eddie wants…but he can't. It's not gonna work.

This is never gonna work, and he doesn't know why he thought it might. He just wanted it to, so goddamn bad.

The knot in Eddie's stomach grows, because he knows that Steve is getting frustrated. Not by the lack of sex, Eddie doesn't think, but more by the lack of understanding of why they aren't having sex. Eddie's been trying, then shying away, stalling and Steve's been patient, but Eddie knows he's running out of runway. 

He's being a fucking cocktease, he's pretty sure, though that wasn't the intent.

"Eddie…" Steve trails off, "what? What is it this time?" he asks, hands finding his hips. The question comes across harsher than his voice actually sounds, but he's staring at Eddie in a way Eddie hates. He doesn't want to be looked at, stared at, perceived, known. 

Eddie shrugs, and Steve lets out a breath that's pure annoyance. Like something he'd aim at the kids when they are fraying his nerves. Eddie doesn't want that sound pointed in his direction, it makes him feel horrible. Worthless. 

Finally, Steve speaks again, "I just. I can't read your signals. They're all over the fucking place. Do you not want this? Or not with me? What? Just, what? Tell me," Steve pleads, and it's tinged with self-doubt, and maybe a little anger, and it makes Eddie withdraw further. Steve's got his own baggage, and Eddie knows it. But Eddie can't just say these things, can't ask for them.

So, Eddie clams up.

Because the other option is to jump right in, ready for a full fight. And he doesn't want to do that, so he just stays silent.

"Okay, I'll go," Steve says, and Eddie doesn't want him to go. But he doesn't know how to get him to stay. 

"Don't go," Eddie says, barely audible, squeezing his hands into fists so hard that his short nails are digging into his palms.

"Then tell me, and I'll do whatever you want," Steve says, soft, worried. Begging a little. "I can't keep guessing wrong. It's killing me."

"I'm just not built like you, Harrington," Eddie finally says. Hoping that will end the discussion for one more night. Maybe Steve will still stay, and give Eddie a little more time to figure his shit out.

"What do you mean by that?" Steve asks, his brow furrowed, as he's folding his hands in his lap.

"Nothing."

"It's not nothing," Steve answers, "obviously."

Eddie is annoyed, frustrated. But he knows he's not gonna get anywhere with soft, sweet Steve Harrington running his hands all over him, like he's made of glass. Been there, done that. And it never ends in anything other than in frustration. There's something broken in him, and Steve would never understand that. 

"Eddie, I-" 

"You don't want me. You don't want what I want. What I need." 

"What do you need, Eddie?" Steve asks, putting his hands on Eddie's arms, gently.

Eddie's exhausted, and he finally snaps, "I need you to hold me down. I need you to handcuff me and…" he trails off when he sees Steve's face. "I need a firm touch. A firm hand. To get off." 

"Oh," Steve says, soft and shocked. Disgusted, probably. 

Eddie looks down. 

And then Steve's big, warm hand is on his thigh. Pressing down. Firmly. 

"I can't, like, hit you," Steve says, face way too earnest.

"I don't need you to hit me," Eddie says with a small smile. He wouldn't be opposed, but if Steve won't get off on it, there's no way.

"But I can be firm. Well, I can try. I want to try." 

Of course he does, because Steve Harrington always jumps in with both feet. Eddie's seen it in action. He just never expected to see it here, in the bedroom. He just thought he'd be able to get over it, whatever hang up he has, but it hasn't happened. 

"Okay, Steve, you can try. If you don't like it, you say so." 

"It's you," Steve says with a grin, "I think I'll like it just fine." 

Eddie just smiles at him, embarrassed, but hopeful.

"Tell me what you like, what your previous sexual partners have done for you that worked," Steve says, like he's ready to take mental notes.

Eddie laughs, shaking his head, "No previous sexual partners. But I'm flattered that you think that's a possibility."

"Then how do you know…?" Steve trails off.

"I still know how I feel. I know how I get off, alone," Eddie answers.

And that…how, is not very easy, never has been. At least not alone.

"Of course. Of course you do," Steve says, like he should have known that. Eddie doesn't think that's a thing that most guys ever contemplate. Eddie imagines Steve can get off easily, without even thinking about it. 

A few quick tugs, thinking about a pretty girl, or a cute guy, and that's all it takes. Eddie wishes it were that simple. He's trying to not feel embarrassed. It's Steve, and he's gotten used to the fact that he can tell Steve anything. 

And if he wants this to work, and he does, then this conversation has to happen.

"Okay, where do we start?" Steve asks, sounding chipper, and ready to go. To act. Now that they've got even a hint of a plan. Eddie cannot believe how brave he is. He's a take-charge kinda guy, maybe this will come naturally to him.

Eddie knows asking Steve to start with handcuffs is crazy, and he's never even been in them before, couldn't do it on his own, and as much as he wants to be, that's for later. Hopefully. Someday, maybe. So, he just lays face down on the bed. 

"Can you just…hold me down, maybe? Restrain me? With your hands?" Eddie asks.

"Yes," Steve says, like he's one-hundred percent certain that's something he can do, and then rolls him over, with a confidence that really works on Eddie. 

Steve's got big hands, hands Eddie has fantasized about on more than one occasion. 

And he grabs both of Eddie's wrists in one of his, and pins them above Eddie's head, pressing them into the pillow.

They aren't even undressed, but Steve crawls on top of him. Sitting on his thighs. 

"This good?" Steve asks, and Eddie nods. It's good.

He's clearly having to stretch to hold Eddie like that, so Eddie isn't surprised when Steve scoots up his body, until he's off his thighs, until they are crotch to crotch, and Steve doesn't shy away from that. He just pushes down against him, as he presses on his wrists even harder now that he has a better angle.

Steve's hard, and Eddie still isn't. Maybe this won't work. Maybe he's not meant to have anything as good as Steve.

But Steve keeps grinding down, over and over, as he squeezes Eddie's wrists. Then, Steve scoots up further, his hard cock pressing into Eddie's belly as Steve leans over him, his chest right over Eddie's face, and Eddie feels boxed in, Steve's shirt hanging down, brushing against his nose. The scent of Steve flooding Eddie's nostrils with every movement Steve's body makes. Eddie feels hidden. Secure. Safe. And he closes his eyes and just feels it all, fully. 

Enjoys.

When Steve shifts again, Eddie realizes he's hard. He doesn't know when that happened, but it feels so good. Steve is still rutting against him, and the pressure of him holding him to the bed feels like it's dug a hook into Eddie's center, and now there's an anchor pulling him down into the most amazing place he's ever been.

He feels drunk. He feels like he's taken the perfect amount of K, and now he's gently slipping into a hole.

Steve's not really doing much of anything, Eddie knows it's simple, but whatever Steve is doing is perfect. It's working.

Then, Steve leans forward, putting more weight on Eddie's wrists, holding them in place as he nearly lays on top of Eddie fully. Leaning most of his weight into it. Bringing them back together, hard cock pressed to hard cock. Still rolling his hips, grinding against him in slow, deliberate circles.

And even as Steve pushes all the air out of his lungs, Eddie feels like he can breathe, finally.

Steve's heavier than he looks, and Eddie is lost in the security he feels being under Steve.

He never even knew to dream about this, but here it is, his wildest dreams coming true at the hands of Steve Harrington.

"You feel so good under me," Steve says close to Eddie's ear, "you're being so good. Getting hard, just for me."

Eddie moans. 

"That's good," Steve says again, "are you ready for me to let you go? Do you want me to touch you?"

Eddie shakes his head no, then makes his request, "Lay on me."

And Steve lowers his whole body to Eddie's, pressing him into the mattress. Chest to chest, crotch to crotch. Eddie can feel every point of contact, every point of pressure, and it's good. So good.

His wrists are still tight in Steve's grasp, but now he feels like his whole body is being held in the same way. Safe. Secure.

Steve rolls his hips, one more time, and Eddie attempts to lift up his hips, tries to get his ass off the bed, but he can't, and he comes in his jeans. Steve following him over the edge.

Tears leak out of Eddie's eyes, and his breathing is shallow with Steve on top of him, but he's happy, and relieved, and kind of boneless. Steve finally shifts so he can hold Eddie's wrists in one hand instead of two, lighter now, and brushes the fingers of his open hand against Eddie's cheek. Face near Eddie's, grounding him.

"Whenever you're ready, tell me what you need. What to do," Steve whispers, and Eddie nods.

Eddie finally felt ready for Steve to let him go, so Steve's shifted so he's laying beside him, not on him, kissing his face, his neck, taking care of him like he always does. Just in a new way now. When Eddie pictured submitting, in the abstract, he was expecting punishment. Pain. To be used, and probably discarded. Thought that's what he wanted. Rough, hard, mean. He thought he needed to be hurt, or tortured, just a little.

And maybe he still does.

But Steve Harrington is none of those things, and his style of taking control isn't either. Steve's a take-charge kind of guy, but there's a softness there that Eddie never wants to see go away, honestly. 

"Was that okay?" Steve asks, and he looks so fucking nervous.

"More than," Eddie says, looking right in his eyes, "thank you."

"So, the handcuffs?" Steve asks, hint of a grin pulling at his lip.

"Wishful thinking," Eddie admits. Then raises his eyebrows, "Why? You interested?"

"For sure. Can we ease into it?" Steve asks, wrapping his arm around Eddie's waist, holding him tight, still so tight, and Eddie's sure he'll be asleep in minutes, feeling this comfortable.

This secure.

This safe.

This loved.

"Definitely," Eddie says, and closes his eyes, turning his face towards Steve's, nuzzling into him. Letting himself be held, not only down, but close.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @subeddieweek and follow along with the fun! 🖤

Notes: It was harder to write a first time (for both!) and have them have super defined roles. They're figuring their shit out. Together. And I like think Service Top Steve can grow into Pleasure Dom Steve, but not right out of the gate.

My other fics for this challenge week:

Day One Day Three Day Four Day Five Day Six Day Seven

[vilevenom]

Hmm...well, it seems like no one over here is vibing with my posts this week, but that's fine. I'll post 'em anyway.

As always, remember - read at your own risk.

She's My Man

Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog (general media)

Pairing: Amy/Shadow

Day 4 prompt(s): Sex Toys

Summary: Shadow and Amy had been discussing little things to try in the bedroom here and there. Little things. But this? This was a rather big thing.

WARNINGS: Explicit sexual acts. Characters are depicted as ADULTS

P.S - If you want a full list of tags, this has already been posted on AO3

Shadow blinked as he stared at the phone screen in front of his face, brows as high as they'd ever been.

"Should I...take that as a no?" Amy asked shyly, lowering the phone and holding the screen side down against her chest as she peered up at the hybrid through her lashes.

It was somewhat sudden, and almost entirely unexpected on Shadow's part. The two had been discussing little things to try in the bedroom here and there, slowly getting comfortable and acquainted with all of each others quirks, likes and dislikes. Amy liked to have her breasts gently squished while she was being penetrated, while Shadow loved having his quills pulled while giving head. Little things. But this? This was a rather big thing, in his opinion.

"I mean, we don't have to! Obviously. I would never ask you to do something you were uncomfortable with. I just...I was reading some things, and I thought...oh, never mind, it's fine," Amy rambled, her cheeks flushing darker and darker the longer she spoke.

"Just-Hold on a moment," Shadow held up a hand, effectively pausing the pink hedgehog's rambling, "It's surprising, but I didn't say I was opposed to the idea."

Amy lit up at Shadow's words, immediately flipping her phone back over to offer him the screen once more. "Really?!"

"Really. Though...perhaps something less...daunting?" Shadow stared down at the girthy red strap on dildo displayed on the screen, 'ribbed for your pleasure' in bold letters across the top corner of the image.

"Oh, of course! This was just...it caught my eye, because of the color," Amy chirped with a sheepish little laugh, sliding over to bump shoulders with the hybrid, nearly vibrating in excitement as she began to flip through the website's catalogue. "How about you tell me when to stop when something catches your eye?"

It took some time, but Shadow finally told Amy to stop scrolling on a light pink dildo, simple in design, not too long or too thick, with a generous curve in the silicone. A friendly little banner across the listing noted it was perfect for beginners. While perusing the website they also found some silicone safe 'tingling sensation' lube, and an insertable vibrator that Amy had said looked 'too cute not to buy'. Shadow was a bit confused as to how or why his partner would want something that was going to go inside her to be shaped like a rabbit, but who was he to judge.

With that, the purchase was made, and Shadow promptly forgot about the impending package for the two weeks it took to arrive on Amy's door step.

It was during a regular date night at Amy's house, after they had cleaned up the dishes from dinner together, while snuggled up on the couch watching a movie, that it was dropped into Shadow's lap. Quite literally.

Shadow blinked down at the box that had been pulled out from under the side table and placed in his lap, his brow arching in curiosity. "And, this is...?"

"Our toys!" Amy chirped excitedly, obviously not having had any real interest in the movie she had put on as she turned to Shadow. "I wound up going back onto the site and getting a few more things! I thought we could go through them together and see what we might like to try tonight."

"Oh," Shadow stared at the unassuming box, an unexpected spike of anxiety making his quills quiver for a moment. A little warning about her plans would have been nice, but Amy always did like surprises. "Alright," he murmured, shimmying out from under the blanket he'd draped across their laps, while Amy eagerly leapt from her spot and hurried to her bedroom while Shadow lagged behind to turn off the tv, the box held between his hands.

"Obviously, I want to try the strap on," Amy hummed as Shadow stepped into the room, already having tossed her shirt aside, her fingers working to unhook the clasps of her bra, "But there's a vibrator I went back to buy that I think you'll like. Oh! And I got you a pocket pussy."

Shadow flushed at how forthright Amy was being, still not quite used to how open she was about sex. She'd been his first, while she admitted she had fooled around a few times with men and women alike here and there over the years. She also claimed that part of her romantic fortune telling sometimes veered into more private affairs, so she'd educated herself and became an advocate for sex positivity. This all apparently resulted in her being quite blunt in the bedroom.

"A pocket...what?" Shadow asked, dropping the box onto the bed so he could pull off his socks.

"A pocket pussy! It's like...you stick your dick in it," she explained, grinning at the uncomfortable look Shadow shot the box he'd just dropped. "It's supposed to feel good," she laughed, shimmying out of her underwear before trotting over to Shadow with a smile. "Don't you trust me?"

"Implicitly," Shadow stated quickly, earning another light laugh from the pink hedgehog.

"Good! I promise, if you don't like something we'll stop right away, okay?"

Shadow simply nodded, watching as Amy upended the box onto the bed. Silicone toys in several shades of red and pink tumbled onto the blanket, along with bottles of what Shadow assumed were lube. He frowned lightly when he found no condoms amongst the items, turning a curious eye to the other.

"I'll be the one inside you, remember?" Amy hummed as if reading his mind.

"Right," Shadow nodded, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he picked up the pink dildo he'd chosen weeks before, "With this."

Amy hummed, gently cupping Shadow's hand between both of hers. "Is that still okay?"

Shadow stared down at the unassuming pink silicone in his hand, his heart picking up at the thought of it being inside him. He'd never tried anything like that, but he also had never really thought much about sex before getting together with Amy. It sent a little thrill up his spine to try something else new with her. "Yes. It's still okay."

"Good," Amy practically purred, pressing up against Shadow's side as she peppered his shoulder with gentle kisses. "Did you want to look at anything else right now, or just play with this?"

Shadow glanced back down at the assortment of other items on the bed, tilting his head slightly as he looked each oddly shaped, brightly colored pieces over. "Perhaps...the pocket pussy?" he asked, his voice very nearly escaping him as he spoke.

"Oh! That's a good idea," Amy chirped, reaching down to snag a harder looking plastic tube and a bottle of lube, before sweeping everything else back into the box and setting it onto her night stand. "Now! I'm going to go put the strap on," she cooed, brushing her fingers under Shadow's chin, smirking at the visible shiver it sent down his spine, "You just settle yourself on the bed and get comfy, okay? It might take me a minute."

Shadow simply nodded as Amy sashayed away, watching the way her tail moved in a nearly hypnotic manner as she went, before the view of her back side was obscured by the bathroom door. He cleared his throat and rubbed at his face before crawling onto the bed, sweeping a few of the overly plush pillows onto the floor to make space. He then settled himself amongst the remaining pillows and stared up at the ceiling fan overhead, chewing on his lip as he imagined what it was going to be like. Was Amy going to have his hips propped up and his legs spread wide so she could see his face as she pushed the pseudo-dick into him, or would she have him on all fours to make it easier to ease the toy inside? He groaned as he could feel his pouch swelling as his mind wandered, only to jump as the bathroom door opened back up.

Pushing himself up onto his forearms, Shadow couldn't stop his tail from wagging at the sight that greeted him. Amy leaned against the door frame in a sultry manner with one hand propped on her hip. Stark black leather straps accented the soft pink fur over her hips, drawing his eye down to the fake dick jutting from where he'd usually see her soft pussy. He swallowed thickly as his cock began to peek out of his pouch, his claws digging into the bedding.

"Like what you see?" Amy cooed, pushing off the door frame to strut across the room, both her tits and the silicone dildo bouncing lightly with her movements, before she paused next to the bed with a smirk. She danced her fingers over the pink plastic, tilting her hips towards Shadow, who was openly staring at the dildo. "You want to touch it?" she prodded, crawling onto the bed to kneel next to him. "Or maybe," she reached down to gently palm at Shadow's emerging cock, biting her lip seductively, "You want to suck on it?"

Shadow nearly choked, his cock slipping free of his pouch as he whined, he cheeks growing ruddy at the sound. He didn't whine. He grunted and growled and moaned. But while the sound embarrassed him, it seemed to please the pink hedgehog.

"Yeah," she sighed, stroking at the hybrid's cock languidly with one hand, while the other dancing playfully over the dildo, "I bet you'd like that." She chuckled as Shadow made an abortive move to lurch forward, as if to do just that, before second guessing himself. "Not tonight," she reassured, letting go of Shadow to sit back on her haunches, "Get on your hands and knees, okay? It'll make this easier."

Shadow nodded dumbly, rolling onto his front before propping himself up, pulling a pillow in to his chest to make himself more comfortable as he presented his ass to his girlfriend, cock hanging heavy between his spread legs. "Is this good?"

"So good," Amy cooed, stroking down along Shadow's spine, and ending with a light, teasing twirl around his tail, "I'm going to finger you now, okay? I need to stretch and prepare you."

"Okay," Shadow echoed, staring off into space as he listened to Amy shuffle around behind him. He hissed quietly at the first cool press of a lube slicked finger against his ass, but quickly relaxed as Amy pet at his flank.

"It'll warm up in a sec," she reassured, simply coating Shadow's entrance in lube first, before ever so gently easing the tip of her finger into him. "How's that?"

Shadow wiggled his hips minutely at the minor intrusion, furrowing his brow slightly, before relaxing once more. "It's fine."

"Good," Amy purred while easing the rest of her finger into the hybrid. At that he hissed again quietly, but quickly adjusted to the sensation as she held still. "Good boy," Amy continued to praise as she wriggled her finger slightly, before more lube was dribbled over where she was pressed into Shadow. "Tell me if it hurts," she hummed, pulling her first finger out about halfway, before adding a second finger, pressing them both in at once slowly.

"Doesn't hurt," Shadow grunted into his pillow, his mind almost feeling like it was floating as he basked in the odd but pleasant sensations of Amy fingering him open, "Feels weird, but enjoyable."

"I'm happy to hear that," Amy giggled airily, easing her fingers in and out of Shadow a few times, relishing in the way the hybrid's tail began to sway back and forth in time with her movements, and how his quills drooped more and more with each moment that passed. "I'm going to add a third finger," she warned, repeating the action of adding lube and pulling nearly all the way out to add another finger.

"Mmm, ah!" Shadow's back arched as Amy pressed in a third finger, the stretch still not truly hurting with how thorough the pink hedgehog was being, but it felt like more. He groaned into his pillow, pushing back against her fingers as she rocked them in and out of him.

Finally, as Shadow began to make aborted little sounds into his pillow and rock his hips in time with Amy's movements, she pulled her fingers free of the hybrid. She smiled sympathetically at the forlorn little moan Shadow let out as he was left empty, dazed eyes glancing back at her over his shoulder.

"Why did you stop?"

Amy snorted while slicking the dildo up with lube, arching a brow at Shadow as she gestured with her other hand at it. "What do you think?"

Shadow's tail quickly began to whip back and forth, before he settled himself back into his pillow, arching his back and doing his best to relax and stay open, despite the anticipation of what was to come next. He knew clenching would undo all of the hard work Amy had just put into opening him up, so he took deep breaths to calm himself down, only to jerk slightly in surprise at the first touch of cool silicone against his hole.

"Easy," Amy cooed, rubbing circles over Shadow's hip with her thumb as she nudged the tip of the dildo against the hybrid's entrance, "Stay nice and relaxed, okay?"

Shadow simply nodded into his pillow, eyes closed as he focused on breathing evenly as the toy began to ease into him. He gasped and clutched at his pillow, eyes opening wide as he was stretched around the dildo far more than Amy's three fingers had done as it slid further inside. A low whine built in his throat as she pressed deeper into him, gasping and drooling onto his pillow as she bottomed out.

"There we go," Amy sighed, petting at Shadow's sides, "It's all in." She took Shadow's weak whine as a sign he needed a moment to adjust to the silicone dick inside him, so decided to make herself useful elsewhere while she waited. She scooped up the pocket pussy from where she'd left it earlier on the bed and unscrewed the end, before popping open the bottle of lube and dribbling it on and into the toy. She smirked to herself as she leaned over Shadow's back, her boyfriend none the wiser as to what she had in her hand. "You're being such a good boy, Shadow," she hummed, wrapping one hand around Shadow's weeping cock while lining the tip up with the pocket pussy, "You deserve a treat."

Shadow let out a startled shout as Amy engulfed his dick in what he assumed was the other toy he'd picked out, odd ridges and bumps stroking against his length in all sorts of wonderful and overstimulating ways. He could feel tears build in the corners of his eyes as he panted through the pleasure of being both stuffed full and engulfed at the same time, his mind feeling like it was turning to mush as Amy played with him like a doll.

"Doesn't that feel good?" Amy teased, easing back slightly to fuck the dildo into Shadow, startling another wanton moan out of the hybrid, "Sounds like it does." She snickered to herself at the completely wrecked sound Shadow let out, apparently unable to form words. She clicked her tongue as she sat back just enough to grab a wayward blanket, stuffing it under Shadow's belly and hips to keep the pocket pussy in place so she could wrap both hands around the hybrid's hips. "You ready, baby?"

Shadow let out a garbled sound of ascent, before wailing into his pillow as Amy pulled her hips back far enough that the dildo was barely still sat inside him, before slamming back in brutally. He saw stars, his vision nearly whiting out as the thrust of her hips forced his cock into the toy below his him.

"That's it," Amy cooed, angling her hips slightly differently on her next thrust inside, grinning at the sound Shadow let out, but it still wasn't quite what she was looking for. She continued this method of angling her hips slightly differently and thrusting in until Shadow finally threw his head back with a wail, her quills nearly standing on end at the intensity of the sound. "Oh, there it is," she purred, before she began a ruthless attack on Shadow's prostate, curling herself over the other's back and wrapping her arms around his torso so he couldn't squirm away as she absolutely pummeled his prostate while her movements forced him to fuck into the toy below him.

Tears streamed down Shadow's face at the onslaught of sensations, his mind melting out his ears. All he could focus on was the devastating push pull pleasure of the dildo rocking into him, and the tight squeeze of the pocket pussy wrapped around his cock. His world narrowed down to nothing but carnal, unadulterated pleasure. "A-amy," he wheezed, feeling the tell tale tightening of his balls and the coil of pleasure building rapidly low in his gut, "I'm gonna c-cum."

"Go right ahead, sweetheart," Amy cooed at him like she wasn't ramming into his prostate like it was going out of style.

"F-fuck!" Shadow buried his face into his pillow as the crescendo of his pleasure finally broke, claws ripping into the pillow he clutched to while cum gushed into the plastic toy beneath him.

Amy eased up on her thrusts as Shadow came, gently riding him through his orgasm until he began to whimper and his quills shook, obviously finished and beginning to become overstimulated. Carefully, she eased the dildo out of his ass, before reaching down to remove the blanket and pocket pussy, her nose wrinkling slightly at the sheer amount of semen her hand came into contact with. Though, she supposed that just meant Shadow had enjoyed himself. She tossed the items onto the floor to clean up later, sitting back as Shadow caught his breath, quickly divesting herself of the strap and dildo.

Once it seemed like Shadow was no longer heaving for air, Amy helped him roll over onto his back, her tail wagging away as she smiled down at him. "How are you doing?"

Shadow grumbled something inaudible for a moment, before offering a lopsided, fucked out little smile. "M'good. Thank you."

"Ah," Amy giggled, moving to straddle the hybrid's chest, "Glad to hear it. Now, if you wouldn't mind returning the favor?" She tilted her hips forward, slick slowly dripping onto Shadow's chest fluff from her swollen pussy, showing off just how much she had enjoyed railing her boyfriend from behind.

"Oh," Shadow breathed, sharp toothed grin flashing across his face as he wrapped his hands around Amy's thighs and pulled her towards his face, "Most definitely."

[xiii-e]

XIII▸ Well. I suppose I should introduce myself.

XIII▸ Hello, to all those I haven't met- which, will be most of you realistically. I'm Project XIII-E, otherwise refered to as Thirteen-E. Just Thirteen works too. After certain recent... events shall we say, a representative of the Union DoJ/HR insisted that I be given the oppertunity to meet with people outside of Harrison Purview while discussions regarding my status are underway, since things are dragging out somewhat.

XIII▸ So... this omninet account was created, with the assistance of Helios-8 [◂▸Hi folks o/ ] a fellow Project who understands all of this better than I do. He's volunteered to be my minder while I'm figuring all this out. For now, I suppose- more about me? What's important... I'm a trained field medic and basic mechanic, intended to opperate as a mobile assistance personnel wherever the fight is thickest. I can patch you, or your mech up from most things. I'm a Lancaster pilot; not the most common thing in the legion I know, but IPS-N knew what they were doing with the old lannies. I've made some alterations. M1 Leatherback is my pride and joy. I'm registered under the callsign Cicatrice, but my name is preferable. It's easier to say, and to spell.

XIII▸ Oh the uh- the Project thing. That might take a while to explain. I'll... I'll summarise it later. [ADDENDUM: summary_attached] That's all I can think of, from the top of my head. I'll do my best to aclimatise to any cultural differences outside of Harrison space during my time here. Please feel free to ask me questions, about myself or my stated expertise. It might be nice to make some more lasting connections, outside of deployment.

XIII▸ Signing off for now. I look forward to meeting you.

// loading echo.exe ... //... //... // now running echo.exe

◂▸ alrightyy, Turtie's got themself introduced, now it's my turn. howdy folks: My name is Helios-8, but I accept Lio if flashclone naming conventions turn your stomach. That's what me and Turtie are, by the way. Project-produced HA sanctioned flashclones. Being able to say that openly is why I run this nifty piece of software that keeps things below the line for any HA techs who might get on our case about legal distinctions, treaties, terms of service etc. Legally, we didn't say any of this shit.

◂▸I'm on a seperate datapad, I get my own that I can tinker with since I'm defined as an employed citizen in the tech sector, whereas Turtie's... well, it's complicated. Suffice to say they're not that. I'll explain in time. Important thing is, anything they want to say that might get them in trouble, they'll run through my interface and protective software. You want to see what either of us don't want HA seeing, we'll throw it into the void under the cloak of ECHO here. Something between insurance in case this all goes tits up, and a sort of controlled exposure therapy so Turtie can learn how to speak their mind.

◂▸I think it's important they get a break from the bullshit the Projects put us through, hence why I put myself forward to be their handler between deployments. My project line wasn't anything like Unlucky Thirteen, but- ehhh, that's a story better saved for the big expo. Sorry for being cryptic about shit. It'll come to light in its own time. This was meant to be an introduction but, I think you'll find out what you need to if you get talking to us.

Or don't; we'll be treating this thing like a diary anyways, and when ECHO's feeling up to big files I'll drop some of the more interesting pieces of history I have squirreled away too >:]c But, your eyes are enough. You saw us. You know we were here, and we were real, and that we were people too.

I'll try and keep things organised: ECHO should automatically tag anything she's cloaked with echo.exe if you're looking for our back and forth, and I'll file any large files, exposes etc that may or may not actually come from me under turtleshell.dox ; for incoming chatter, just check out You've Got Mail

◂▸anyway, cheers for reading. see you round the net -Helios-8

-----

// ooc: hiii this is @mossydice / @mossylocks depending on where you may know me- and this blog is a bit of an experiment!! I'm pretty shy overall so how much actual rping I manage to do is Very up in the air, but at the very least this'll serve as a fun in character blog for me to exposit about my scrungly Thirteen-E; I won't get to play them for probably another year or so yet, so this is a fun way to explore their character and some of the lore specific to them that I've come up with in the mean time!! ^-^ I look forward to doing more ic writing!! If you want to talk about anything, ask any clarifying questions etc please feel absolutely free to pop into my dms \o/

IMPORTANTLY: Thirteen-E's whole deal can get a bit gritty in places, so I'll be trying to include cw's where I think they might be revelent. However this whole blog is going to play heavy into dehumanisaiton and the comodification of human bodies if the flashclone premise didn't make that obvious, so if these are topics you'd rather not read about at length in your fiction, no hard feelings!! thanks for stopping by o7

[quoigenic-anon]

"Don't do Trauma Olympics, don't compare trauma: trauma is trauma."

Then why being high-functioning makes me feel lowkey guilty?

Um, trauma discussion/dumping ahead?? A lot of types of trauma mentioned, press "read more" with caution and tell me if I need to put a certain tag, I'll add it ASAP.

TLDR: My life isn't perfect, but it's not that bad, it could be worse! And that's why I don't feel like I belong in spaces for traumatized people. But I'm not a mentally healthy person too. In the end, there's no "traumatized enough" condition that makes your trauma valid. It's just being traumatized, that's all. And healing doesn't make you less traumatized, I guess.

That's quite a nonsensical rant...

I have academic trauma. Long story short, high expectations make a girl hate herself for not being perfect anymore. And my parents weren't much helpful, so I had to get out of this deep dark hole and recover all by myself. Sometimes, when they pressure me about being lazy and nonchalant, I start spiralling and it hurts again, but crying helps to relieve the stress and keep working.

So, trauma responses are here, right?

... Why do I feel so uncomfortable when talking to traumatized people? Is it... That I'm not broken enough to truly understand them?

My parents are not perfect, but I still love them. They care about me. Maybe a little bit too much. But it's normal for parents, right? Right? It would be so much worse if I was neglected or abused, so I guess I should be grateful they love me.

Even if they hurt me to the point I want to move out as soon as possible so I don't feel like a helpless child anymore.

My school is not perfect, but there was no bullying. I was respected, even though I didn't make many friends and I'd like to forget the damage some teachers did to me. It could be a nightmare, but it was balanced good and bad! I should be grateful for all these opportunities!

But I don't feel like I'll miss school. I feel apathetic... And this apathy feels wrong. As if I should feel more, but if I try to do so, I'll uncover something bad and it will hurt me.

... People go through worse. Fear paralyzes them, they forget their trauma so it doesn't hurt that much. A lot of people have it worse.

"I shouldn't speak over "truly traumatized" people," I think while my healed mental scars itch and don't let me forget about them.

I'm really not a mentally healthy person. My environment was damaging, and I had to solve a lot of internal problems alone when relatives or teachers or friends weren't helpful. Even my plurality is a reflection of my need to be cared after.

But I function. I can be considered a normal person, a worthy member of society. I can even believe I'll become a good professional in programming.

But seeing disabled, dysfunctioning people sharing their struggles on the Internet, I can only question myself:

Why do I feel guilty for having opportunities? Am I... Privileged?

Can I even talk about my experiences, about my own pain and struggles without being inherently... Invalidating? For having it easier?

But no matter how much I care and worry, I can't be a good person for everyone anyways.

There's no "traumatized enough" condition. Just traumatized.

Healing and recovery don't erase damage.

[shelbgrey]

Next to me(Emmett Cullen)

Chapter 20: Testosterone and Truck repairs

Table of contents

Tags: @itsmytimetoodream @f-1-maniac @purplesiren @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads

“that would never happen” Paul said as he stuffed his face with Doritos, it was Saturday and Paul decided to stay in a watch Bones while Emmett was out hunting. Paul still hated the idea, so we just decided to never discuss it.

“good morning” bella said coming into the living. My head shot up confused, she never really spoke in such a bright tone in the mornings “what's that supposed to mean?”

“nothing...good morning” she repeated as Owen came shuffling into the living room, he plopped on to Charlie's favorite arm chair looking like he just woke up.

“mornin' sunshine” Paul joked, Owen looked at the TV and flipped Paul off while he watched his favorite character Angela do her thing on the show.

I rolled my eyes and continued to watch the TV show. Bella quitely sat down on the arm of the couch with me and took a sip of her drink. She cleared her throat and looked at me and Paul, we ignored her as i tried to finish the episode we were watching. “you look nice today... You too paul”

“I always look nice” Paul smirked, I rolled my eyes and hit his chest.

“What do you want?” I sighed, looking down at the sleep clothes I had yet to change out of, it was one of Emmett's black t-shirts and underwear, his shirts looked like a dress on me so there was no reason to wear pants.

Bella looked shocked. “What? I can't compliment my cousin?” As Bella failed to be suck up I sighed, she was always overly nice when she wanted something.

“suck up” Owen mumbled, Bella shot him a glare as he looked at the TV and not her.

“What do you want?” I said.

“m-my truck won't start... Could you guys look at if for me?” she asked, I signed and nodded. Paul who didn't look up from the TV slightly nodded. “after this, I need to see Booth and Bones catch the killer”

“they always do” I said, smiling.

Bella immediately jumped out of her seat. “t-thanks!” she's stopped and took a double take. “I'll be outside washing it while I wait for you”

The three of us nodded not taking our eyes off the TV. We didn't really notice she left until Owen spoke up and we gave him out undivided attention. “ya know, you certainly have a type sis”

I raised an eyebrow. “what's that mean?”

“you've been in love with David Boreanaz since the show Angel, he was indeed a big buff vampire with dark hair and in Bones he the same way just bigger and goofyer and minus the vampire” Owen explained.

“Buffy the vampire slayer was better... And had good tips” Paul added, I gave him a side eye. “sorry” he mumbled.

“I don't really have a type” I said with a nervous chuckle. “big, goofy buff dude” Owen pushed. “Seeley Booth and Emmett cullen are the basically the same thing, your fictional and real boy friend are very similar”

“why are we even talking about this?” I asked getting up and shutting the TV off. “I'm gonna change and we'll go help little miss. Main character” I said stretching.

After I got and old t-shirt and jeans on, I went out side while Paul and Owen got Uncle Charlie's tools. Paul sighed and droped the metal box on the ground as Owen climed into the bed with one of his my Stephen King books.

“put SpongeBob down and give it a crank” Paul said to Bella as he opened the hood. Bella climed into the squeaky vehicle and tuned the key. The truck made a sickly noise as Paul rummaged around. He sighed and wiped the grease off his hands onto his shorts.

“you got a battery?” he asked. I shook my head no. “we used it on the Impala were working on, remember?”

“let's try and jump start it then” he said as Owen handed him the jumper cables that lived in the bed of the truck.

Paul hooked one side to Charlie's Cruiser, as he hooked it to the truck battery the truck rocked suddenly. I looked up and saw Emmett on the roof.

“can you act human, we have Neighbors” I chuckled, he jumped down as Edward rolled up in his fancy-pants Volvo.

“what's wrong with the truck?” Emmett asked.

“its not starting”

“none of your business” Paul said over me. Emmett's gold eyes looked towrds Paul with hate. I rolled my eyes.

“it might be the spark plug” Emmett said, examining the engine. “I can bring one over later tonight” he said shutting the hood.

“thanks” bella said quickly and turned back to Edward. “there's still a dent though” Emmett said, grabbing the red metel and popping it back into place.

“now, that's hot” I said nudging Paul, He scoffed. “I could do that”

Emmett chuckled while Paul gave him a death glare.

“gald Enzo Ferrari could be of service” Paul said rolling his eyes, Emmett ignored him and turned to me.

“you wanna come over tomorrow?” he smiled leaning against the truck. “Sure, I want Owen to come too. He doesn't like to be left alone anymore”

“Sure, Carlisle and Esme want to meet him” he smiled, our conversation was cut short when Billy and Jacob rolled up in his new truck.

“peace was made, what's the problem?” Emmett asked when he saw my face drop. I shrugged. “I don't know... I just feel like I've been walking on eggshells since the meeting”

“well if they really care about you they wouldn't make you feel that way” Emmett said loud enough for Paul to hear.

Paul and Jacob are the only two that had been acting normal since the meeting. Paul didn't care, I mean he hated the Cullens but he was one of my closest friends and he wasn't gonna ruin it. Jacob just didn't know anything about the supernatural world yet so he was completely clueless.

He actually liked Emmett, Jacob came over to the house the other day to help me and Emmett on my Impala, they got along great. Jacob couldn't figure out what the packs problem was, he even asked and I couldn't give him a real awnser.

“we should go” Edward said coming up to us. Emmett shrugged. “you can... I don't have to”

My best friend rolled his eyes and gave me hug before racing off in his Volvo. “What was that about?” Bella asked.

“I'm sure you'll crack that case too Sherlock” I mumbled as we watched Jacob hop out of the silver truck.

“Hey, Emmett” Jacob smiled as he pulled out Billy's wheelchair. Honestly, Billy got over the whole thing. I think he was just galde Emmett was respectful towards me and and wasn't a killing machine.

Jacob and Emmett did some kinda bro fist bump which was bizzar in itself, I worry what Jake will think when he knows the truth about it all. Would him and Emmett still be friends? Would he look past all the wolf and vampire drama?

“you here for the game?” he asked Emmett, he looked over at me and just prayed he'll say no. I hate sports.

“I'll be upstairs with y/n” he said as Charlie walked outside with a smile. He greeted his best friend and Jacob then turned to Emmett.

“your welcome to join us if you want Emmett”

Emmett nodded with a smile. “I appreciate the offer sir, but I promise y/n we'd watch a couple of movies together”

As we walked towrds the house Billy spoke up. “any luck on the Waylon case?”

“well, I don't think it was an animal that killed him” Charlie awnsered as he pushed Billy's wheelchair up the small stairs.

Jacob and Bella looked at me and Emmett while they spoke about the murder. Emmett gulped and took my hand while we followed the group into the house.

“so spread the word out at the rez, huh? Keep the kids out” Charlie asked. “will do, we don't want anyone eles getting hurt” Billy said looking directly at me and Emmett.

As the sports watcher filed into the living room, I pulled Emmett towrds the stairs. He jokingly stoped and looked at the TV. “ya sure you don't want to watch the game?”

“we can watch it if you really want to” I smiled. I quickly shook his head no. “na, let's go to your room”

As we walked up the stairs Uncle Charlie called out to us. “better keep that bedroom door open!”

“okay!” I said rolling my eyes knowing he couldn't see me.

When we got my room Emmett plopped on to my bed as I looked for a movie to watch. He rolled over onto his stomach and reached for the book that was on my nightstand. It was Christine by Stephen King.

“what do you want to watch?” I asked, Emmett shrugged flipping through the small book. “I don't care, as long as your cuddling me... I don't care”

I chuckled and looked over my shoulder at him. His eye brows were knitted together as he concentrated on the book. “you can read it if you want, it's not like the movie but it's good”

“yeah... I might give it a try” he said as tossed him a padd of red sticky notes, he pealed one off for a book mark. “now... Movie, what are we watching?”

“Pult Fiction or Bill and Ted's excellent adventure?” I asked, Emmett looked up, thinking for a moment. “Bill and Ted” he smiled.

I nodded a put the movie in before crawling into bed with him. He wrapped his arms around me while I rested my head on his chest. I smiled feeling immediate comfort. “your like a big teddy bear” I said wrapping my arm around his waist, scooting closer to him. He chuckled and kissed the top of my head.

The rest of the day we stayed in bed, Owen came in about two hours later and watched Lethal weapon 3 with us. When 6 'o'clock hit Emmett got a call from Alice to come home, He promised to help get supplies for tomorrow. He said his goodbyes and kissed my goodbye before going outside to his jeep.

A/n: man, sorry this took so long, hopefully I'll post more regularly with this story. I'm so happy you all enjoy this story and want to read more.

[autismasgore]

i'm leaving the fandom

so i already posted about this on twitter with a shorter explanation but after a long while of being in the undertale fandom, i've decided to distance myself from it. i'm not sure if i'll ever make a public return on any of these accounts, but for now i've decided that i feel this is what's best for me mentally.

i'm kind of surprised i haven't already, to be honest, but i guess for a good while i was able to focus on the passion and love i had for the game. nowadays, i've been finding it harder and harder to interact with the fandom as a whole - for a multitude of reasons really.

many of you are already aware i went through a stalking incident over asgore discourse, which lasted from late 2019 to 2023. it was the most traumatizing years of my life, and i don't even remember a time where i actually felt at peace with myself during those years. the only time i remember being happy was pouring all of my focus onto undertale even harder, just to try and cope with what was going on. it didn't help that at the time, my abusive family was blaming me for being stalked and telling me i was just doing this all for attention and that i loved the "drama" of it.

i really didn't want to do this, because it feels like such a huge betrayal of everything i've loved for so long (hi, i'm autistic and undertale was my special interest, in case you haven't noticed yet LOL) but at this point i associate too many traumatic memories with undertale, specifically the fandom.

since getting more into steven universe and browsing the fandom casually it made me realise just how toxic the undertale fandom is as a community right now. i mean, let's be real, it's always been this way, but i feel like it's gotten a whole lot more worse lately - more insane.

it honestly felt like such a huge breath of fresh air to go into a fandom tag that Didn't have any toxic sludge or people discoursing about liking certain characters (cough Asgore cough) and whether or not that makes you a bad person. it felt like total whiplash, seeing people discussing a show they liked and sharing fanart instead of seeing constant discourse about it.

i've also been seeing a lot of my friends go through absolute fucking bullshit lately, and it's honestly really stressful because it felt like my stalker incident was becoming a more popularized and public sentiment in the fandom. which... honestly is scary to me. people are becoming more openly hostile, more openly insane with their accusations. i've been trying to remain hopeful and optimistic about the fandom, but the more things that have happened, the less hopeful i feel.

i don't want to be in this sort of community. i don't want to be in a community where people feel glee in hurting others, tearing other people down and slinging around serious accusations because it makes them feel powerful.

i want to be in a community/fandom that makes me feel actual joy, and not a constant source of stress.

there's also another reason why i decided to distance myself online rn as well, and it's not really related, but it was enough that i feel incredibly uncomfortable going by the name "pixie" rn.

last year, a youtuber i knew decided to put me on blast and straight up called me an abuse apologist and that i should be avoided at all costs, all bc i quietly distanced myself from posting publicly about the situation and decided to avoid jumping to conclusions.

i don't entirely blame them, since there's definitely things i feel i could have done better, but a lot of what they said was already privately resolved between us, and they left a lot of that out in order to paint a false narrative about me. i mean they literally had saved hundreds of deleted posts from my deleted old social media accounts. i know this because they've done this before with other people. i also know that this comes from a place of hurt and anger, they're lashing out at a community they felt hurt by, but their way of coping with it isn't healthy.

because they had thousands of followers, i started getting a ton of harassment, from people saying i wasn't trustworthy and calling me an abuse apologist, and even private nasty dms i don't really want to get into.

i didn't say anything at the time bc i was worried i'd come across as attention seeking/manipulative but. i became straight up actively suicidal after this. i was convinced nothing was going to ever get better for me and that i was an active danger to everyone. my mum ended up dragging me all the way to the city literally just to buy me the macbook i wanted in order to try and cheer me up, and even then i felt so depressed that i felt like i didn't have anything to look forward to. honestly the only thing that really kept me going was my friends privately supporting me.

to put it short, it felt like a repeat of my stalker situation and i don't feel comfortable going by pixie anymore because i associate so much trauma with that name right now. i feel like so many people who don't have good faith intentions know me as that name, more than people i'm friends with.

i don't even know if i'll ever post on social media ever again, or at least not in the way i used to. if i do end up making a new social media with a new rebrand, you won't hear from me about it. i want to be more private now.

tl;dr if you're still reading this, thank you for sticking by me for so long. this ended up being a lot longer than i anticipated, but i think i'm done with the name "pixie", and i think i'm done with the undertale fandom for now.

i know i'll be able to move on into a better place once i move forward to this chapter.

thanks for the memories.

[curmemini]

thing is. i am so afraid of putting posts in main tags. i know i should get over that fear but somehow it's scarier on tumblr where ppl can search your posts and not like on twt where your posts kinda drown out after a while even if it got like 15k views or more.

in general, friction against others is so, so scary help. I feel like there is such a pressure in fandom to avoid anyone you disagree with, lest you spark drama that gets out of hand. I'm always worried about upsetting someone else. I know i can't make myself likable to everyone but i still like to try.

That and i somehow always end up disagreeing with mhyk accounts on twt that have a big follower acc and that's SCARY sorry i know i am repeating myself here

Lifts you up and spins you around and puts you back on the ground so gently. Honestly, yes, it is scary to put your thoughts out there, I get it. It took me a pretty long while to get comfortable with it and even then, quite a few times I'll try to get around my discomfort with knowing it's going to be seen by others by tagging the character with the series (so owen mahoyaku), because then I'm not /really/ main-main tagging, but it will still show up if someone plain searched mahoyaku.

I've typed and retyped this like three times today, because I have a lot of thoughts about it, so my apologies if I lost track of a sentence or two someplace. But I think it is exactly because it is scary and uncomfortable that we should try to push through it, not even in a "it's good for the fandom to have people speak" way but that it is a challenge to yourself.

Friction is scary, yes, but friction gets less scary the more you've had run-ins with people you've disagreed with and engaged in discussion with them. I don't think anyone who is posting theories in any fandom at the moment would be upset if someone disagreed with them and told them that as long as they were respectful and explained why - that opens it into a discussion, it allows alternative viewpoints in and possibly helps the OP strengthen their theory.

There's kind of like two sides of fandom to me for active participants - the transformative fanworks (fanart, fanfics, headcanons) and the "canonical" fanworks - fanworks that are more meta-based; the theories, the character analysis', the small details that people notice. And I think there's been a kind of blending between the etiquette of these two categories that has led to this feeling of being in a powder keg. It'd be rude to engage with a transformative fanwork you disagree with/dislike - that's not what they're there for - but canonical fanworks are meant to be discussed and thought about. I personally would rather get disagreement than get no response at all on a piece of meta I wrote. I think there are more people who would say the same than the reverse.

Even still, I know a lot of fandom has been kind of built off of the shackles of twitter fandom - and twitter isn't a place that encourages discussion. It is algorithmically built to show you things you hate, because it knows that rage is a powerful emotion to elicit to get people to keep earning the corporation $$ - things are just, different here on tumblr. There's more tools to facilitate discussion (here, you're on anon! i have no clue who you are! hi stranger! - maybe you would have still sent this ask without that option of anonymity, but likely not, right?), tags allow for better blocking of things people don't like, we're not character-limited so we can be precise in what we say, rather than chop it down into a chunk of text that can be misinterpreted. Tumblr is, for all we've been irony poisoned, a platform that is meant to be more sincere; the algorithm is a relatively new feature, and it is optional. Here, you can only see what you seek out.

because of that, too, even though I don't know a lot of the mhyk fandom on tumblr personally (or even very well?) I don't think there will be the same kind of wide-spread drama that could occur on twitter - or the same wide-spread drama that has occurred in the biggest of big fandoms here. imo, fandoms are bridges between people, and while some will always seek to burn them down, others will still seek to build them - but there has to be some foundation, some direction, for them to start building in the first place. Otherwise we just remain islands, far apart.

I don't think I've ever been as hard in on a fandom as I am now with our dear wizards, I mean, I changed a url I've had for a near decade to make it owen themed. So I want to help foster that bridge-building, however I can.

Stepping away from fandom-talk for a second - I do sincerely think it is to your benefit to put yourself out there. Your posts aren't going to cause a schism; your thoughts, your love that goes into articulating a post - those are all valuable things. And the more you find yourself having friction with others, the easier it is navigate when it is something offline where friction is completely unavoidable. The more comfortable you get with being uncomfortable, with doing something you're afraid to do, the better off you wind up being, because the world begins to open up. As to upsetting people... just as you can't make yourself likable to everyone (and believe me, I tried for a very long time - sometimes, I find myself falling back into those habits again still), that will happen regardless of our intentions. Even when it sucks, even when you know you didn't mean to; it happens. Although, I do think most people's reactions would be to just scroll on by if they didn't like a post. Maybe they'll remember the take, but they won't remember you specifically. (is that better or worse..? I find the pseudo-anonmity of the tumblr space soothing... and I only remember the takes that I've talked about because they were particularly mind-boggling to me; but I couldn't even tell you the account that had posted them on twt ) Learning how to apologize, how to disengage when you get upset - these are important skills that can only really be learned by doing, you know? in the wise words of @ / soracities "do it scared do it stupid do it badly whatever it is that’s worth doing, that’s worth anything at all, we do it. be it scared be it stupid be it badly. the sincerity remains the same."

[junksqueezer]

Introduction Post

Figured I should probably make an actual pinned intro post since there's too much I wanna say 💔

- Call me Junk

- I'm 22 and my birthday is April 3rd

- I am a big strong scary evil woman /j

- 🇫🇮/🇧🇬 (I can speak Bulgarian besides English but my Finnish is ass 💀)

- My art tag is #junkdraws

- My tag for random bullshit is #junkyaps

- My OC x Canon ship tags are #bethommy, #gloe and the ship names for any OC/SI x Canon ships my moots have since I try to reblog others' ships I like when I can

- Yes, my username means exactly what u think it means 🙂

- This blog will be SFW like 90% of the time but I draw stuff with violence and bruises sometimes so I'll put that under a Read More cut with a warning. If I draw anything suggestive I'll tag it with #nsfm and #nsft, but for more mild and harmless things that may still be just a bit uncomfortable I use #sensitive content

- My main hyperfixation is Moral Orel, but I also like Gregory Horror Show, Our Reason for Living, My Little Pony, (Infection AUs primarily), Wasted Youth, 100% Orange Juice, Staxel and The Black Heart, among many other things

- I tend to take long ass breaks sometimes to touch grass bc the internet pisses me off, if I disappear for a long time don't worry about me I usually come back in like a week or two

- My Discord is junksqueezer if you want to keep contact when I vanish, but I can't guarantee I'll be on there either 💔 I'll more likely be there than here though

- If you play the My Little Pony Gameloft mobile game pls add me, my friend code is 326bba and I send hearts daily 👍

*My Moral Orel OCs are Gloria Squeezer, Beth Carvedson and Mrs. Carvedson (Collette Ovenbake/Collette Carvedson). I don't have proper refs for any of them so take the first portraits I drew of them without the text 💀💔 They're usually tagged with their full names except for Mrs. Carvedson, her tag is just #mrs carvedson lol

*I do a lot of OC x Canon (literally like 80% of my total art and content) and I also selfship, if you don't like that, go away

*Tommy Littler is my soulmate and I love him to bits 😇💖

*I share all my f/os except Tommy and my ORfL f/os

*MO f/os: Tommy Littler (soulmate), Joe Secondopinionson (attracted to) & Mr. Carvedson (attracted to, more mild)

*Other MO characters I enjoy bc they r nice & silly: Ms. Censordoll, Doughy Latchkey, Billy Figurelli, Ms. Sculptham and Ms. Secondopinionson

*Other f/os: Reo Miyao (Our Reason for Living; soulmate), Kazumi Yashiro (Our Reason for Living), Janos (The Black Heart), Haniwa Salaryman (Gregory Horror Show), Oscar (Staxel), Kai Shiden (Mobile Suit Gundam) and the Protagonist from the horror game To Do List

*Always remember that my name is Junk for a reason if I ever upset you with anything. I am unironically not a good person and I have genuine serious problems with anger and aggression. It's part of why I take internet breaks so often 🤷‍♀️

*DNI list is mostly general stuff; irl propara, pedo/MAPs, zoo, necro and other general things unlisted here, but I also really don't like people who ship Tommy with other male characters, idc if you're proship or antiship or whatever as long as you keep ur shit properly tagged and 1000 ft away from me if it's something I don't want to see. More on that down below;

VERY IMPORTANT:

•Please DO NOT send me MLM ships with any of my f/os or discuss them with me

●The ship O.relTommy makes me sick to my stomach (quite literally, I genuinely feel a tickle in my stomach and throw up when I come across content related to it, especially art, that shit makes me unironically want to kms) and it makes me EXTREMELY uncomfortable. MLM ships with any of my f/os in general make me a bit uncomfortable because of irl past events but if you ship Tommy with any male characters, especially Orel I will very very very likely NOT get along with you and you will see yourself blocked. There is literally only 1 person who is an exception to this rule bc they ship this but don't post or talk about it. If you like this ship and other ones that make me uncomfortable idfc, just please keep it to yourself, I really value my mental health but I'm not afraid to get aggressive before I block 👋

○Since this gets misinterpreted A LOT, just because I don't like seeing my f/os with other men does not mean I'm homophobic. I am fully ALLOWED to be uncomfortable with certain ships and whatever the fuck I want, especially if it involves a character I am attached to with every fiber of my might. I cannot self-insert as men. I do not ever want to self-insert as men. I don't like seeing my f/os "cheat" on me (unless it's a female character bc I can self-insert with it 🤷‍♀️), even if they're not real after having such a thing happen irl before. If you have a problem with that, kindly block and leave