#and most of it is just sad and pain (and so much research into like medically feasible wounds) but there is at least this funny

[qwuilty]

Hey wait a minute.

[shock]

i want to hold my tongue and not share the depth of my opinions about the two-headed cow but it upsets me so much every time i see it, i really do hate the narrative of 'rooting for' an animal like this to live despite it being unable (and will be unable, for its entire life) to do the most basic of things life has to offer, even breathing, eating, moving, to prioritize the savior myth that everything can and should be saved, that every living creature should be treated this way as though its not one of the greatest mercies that we as humans have the ability to enact a quick and painless alternative to a slow and miserable life that ends in slow and miserable death on our livestock when they can't advocate for themselves, the ability we have as humans to see the research and make a prognosis and decide that the spectacle is not worth the extended misery, but this life is worth the dignity of a peaceful death we have the capacity to grant

because there is a difference between helping a baby animal in the first legs of life knowing it has a chance to have a quality of life worth fighting for, not a life doomed to be painful that we KNOW is painful knowing all that we know about animals who come with this specific type of physical abnormality, what we see on the surface is only a fraction of much more malformation and deterioration on the inside that we can't just decide is not happening because they 'look' fine, and what we see on the surface is already a life from start to finish without any experience an animal like this should have by virtue of being alive, with no life at all and no understanding of why it is going through this

the assumption that there is no suffering despite eating, breathing, moving never something that this baby will be able to do unassisted, despite knowing the longest a two-headed cow has ever survived was not even a year and a half and that record hasn't been broken in over thirty years, that's not even a quarter, an 8th, a 12th, a 15th of a cow's normal lifespan, and doubtfully much of that was pleasant or comfortable, and even if this cow does get to the point of being able to stand on its own, we can't ever know the full range of agony this animal is going through, all we know is there is and there will be agony, and we need to not see life as inherently successful or painless just because something is going in one end and coming out the other, that isn't what defines an animal's quality of life to me

the two-headed calf poem is beautiful to me because it's a miracle that something so rare (luckily) and so doomed could see one extraordinary thing before passing. the sky ceases to be beautiful when forced to live every day for the sake of social media's voyeurism, it makes me so sad that someone who raises livestock would put public attention over their duty to their animals ☹️

[mysicklove]

𝐒𝐎 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋

DAY 12: SOUNDING

With: Keigo Takami (Hawks)

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Sub! Hawks, gn! reader, sounding, HEAVY sub/dom spaces, hints of sado/masochism, mentions of anal fingering, keigo crying and twitching, cursing, pee/urine mentioned throughout

A/N: This is one of those smut fics that are heavily unrealistic (which i LOVEEEE), keigo says some cringe things at some points tho. LOL

Keigo has such a pretty face. People stop and stare at him on the street, he has been recruited by multiple modeling companies and is lusted over by teenage girls all over the world. Born to be nicknamed, “Pretty Boy”. It was cute, really, and he seemed to love the name.

But to you, he doesn't look his best when he is photographed in lewd poses, or when the media catches the way he looks at you, or even with his candid hero photos that are unbearably hot.

No, to you, Keigo looks his absolute best when he cried. Of course, not from sadness, from pleasure and pain. When his face is flushed, his eyes are hazy, and tears coat his cheeks. When he looks up at you in pure adoration, and trembles under your hold.

But that was the sadistic side of you talking. The side of you who wants to completely ruin the man. It's hard not to when he looks so pretty during it.

So, slowly you've been finding new ways to wreck him and with each one, he reacts perfectly. You've gotten addicted to it. Him, really.

Tonight you are going to try sounding. You stare at the small metal rod, and then back to your lover, who is leaning against the headboard, and trying to act like he is not completely terrified. He gulps when you peer at him, straightening his back, and trying to uphold his cocky grin.

“You're scared, aren't ya?”

He scoffs, looking away. “No. I'm the one who asked for this, why would I be scared?”

As much as you like ruining Keigo, Keigo loves being ruined. You have to keep a close eye on him because he swears he has no limits and has not used his safeword so far. Everything is on the table for him, and that sometimes worries you. You've held down your desires but he voices them and is the one to beg you for more and more.

Urethra play was not something he has tried. “Mhmm. It will be fine, we will go slow,” You reassure him despite his words. You place a comforting hand on his thigh and he sighs, smiling at you softly.

“Yeah. It'll be fine. You're right.”

Horrifying is the best word to describe what's in front of him right now. The “thin” rod is now lodged halfway into his urethra and he's panting out, thighs trembling. It doesn't exactly feel bad, but it's foreign, and the sight in front of him makes him uneasy. Nothing is supposed to go in that hole.

He's gripping onto your hand for comfort, eyes wide as saucers. “We aren't even all the way in yet, Keigo.”

He whines out at the words, resting his head on your shoulder. Sweat beads at his forehead and his face is flushed. “F-Feels so full.”

You teasingly tap on the rod, and his back arches, wings fluttering out at the strange feeling. He grips your hand and stares at you, silently pleading. “Sorry. Forgot. Let's put it all in, yeah?”

“Dont–Dont know if I can.”

You stroke the bottom of his shaft and smile at him. “Got plenty of room still. It's supposed to touch your prostate, y'know.”

Yeah, he definitely knew that. For the last couple of days, he researched the ins and outs of this. But still, he doesn't know how the hell it could go any deeper. He feels overwhelmingly stuffed even from half of it being inserted. He gulps and glances at you, but nods.

“Take a deep breath for me, Keigo. Promise it'll feel good in a bit.” You're right, and he knows it. Just like when you fingered him for the first time, it feels weird in the beginning, but now he's addicted to it. This could be a new thing to drive him mad. He sure hopes so.

He takes a deep breath, and you slowly continue to inch it in, letting gravity do the most part. The road is slippery from the lube and it goes in without much difficulty.

Keigo on the other hand is going insane. He is moaning and whining, gripping onto the sheets with such force that you are afraid he is going to rip it. You watch his arm muscles clench and unclench, and he throws his head back. “Oh. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” He cries with every second it goes deeper.

You hush him, using your other hand to stroke him gently, hoping to coax it in. His squirming makes it harder, and you don't want to hurt him, so you try your best to pin his hips down beneath you so they won't jump up.

And at last, it reaches the bottom. You pull away and look up at him. Keigo is trembling, back arched pornographically, and staring at the ceiling with an open mouth. Tears drip down his cheeks, and his legs are trembling, bent, and spread wide. “All done, it's all the way in now. Shhh, just gotta get adjusted to it.”

He shakes his head and lets out a cry, “Fuck. It's weird. Feels so weird! Full–I cant–”

You lean forward to press your lips to his, cutting his frantic rambling off. “Keigo, do you want to use your safeword?” You ask, just for reassurance.

He shakes his head frantically. “No! Wait! I-I never said I didn't like it!” He pleads desperately to you, even if you haven't tried to make an effort to remove it. His mind seems to be scattered, but this is how he is when he usually tries new things in bed. Today, just a little bit more extreme, considering you haven't tried anything even close to this.

“What does it feel like, Birdie?”

He takes a deep, shaky breath. “Feels full. D-Different type of full. It's weird. And it also feels like I gotta pee a little bit. But in a good way? It's all so weird and overwhelming, Y/N!”

You gulp, watching the way his eyes move around frantically. The way his body is bright red, and he's staring at you with desperate eyes. His mouth is glossy, and his eyes are wet. This is your favorite face of Keigos. This is what you have been wanting to see.

The urges get the better of you. “I'm going to move it now Keigo.”

His eyes widen, and before he can even protest, you move it upward, slightly. His back arches again and he gasps for air. “O-Oh–Its–Fuckkkkk.”

You push it back in completely and he keens, gripping onto your hand with wide eyes. A loud, desperate whine is let out, and more tears stream down his face. He's withering under you, and you can't help but stare at his pretty physique. “Are you oka–”

“Again!” He sobs, legs moving sporadically against the sheets.

His words make you gulp. He's falling into that state again. The one where his only task is to get himself completely fucked dumb. He doesn't want to think about anything except his pleasure, and frankly, his adorable facial expression is pulling you into your very own state with him.

You lift the rod up, farther than last time, until more than half of it sticks out. He stares at it, panting loudly and waiting for you to push it back in. It makes his adrenal pulse, and his mouth begins to water.

You don't tease him too long, and abide by his wishes, pressing the full thing in until it reaches the very bottom of his cock. He moans this time, enjoying it more with every second. Tears continue to fall, but he can't pay attention to them, instead focused on the feeling of being so full. If he had a toy in the other end, he surely would have lost his mind. Next time, for sure.

You continue to bring it up and down and he gets louder and louder with each stroke, not caring for whoever hears him. He is feeling such intense pleasure, everyone should hear his cries. Or at least that is what he believes.

“So cute. We found another hole for me to abuse, yeah Keigo?” You purr, eyes traveling up his shaking body with hunger.

He nods his head frantically. “Yes. Yes! Please fuck it more, I'm begging!”

You stop for a moment, a teasing gleam in your eyes. “Want me to fuck your pee hole? How lewd, Birdie.”

But to your dismay, he isn't responding to the teasing as you hoped. Instead, just agreeing with every word, too lost in the subspace to really care for how dirty your words are. “Yes! F-Fuck my pee hole. Need it. S-So full!”

You don't mind your failed attempt, now staring fondly at the pretty boy in front of you, who is completely out of it by now. It usually takes him longer to get to this state, and it was intriguing that this little rod had such a huge effect on him.

Your pace is quicker, and you use your other hand to stroke him off. His mouth hangs open, and drool begins to bead at the corner of his mouth. Every breath is a high-pitched, airy moan. It's adorable, really.

You watch his thighs start to clench and you raise your eyebrows, knowing that he's going to cum sometime soon. When you glance back up at his face, he's staring back at you, sniffling gently, but his eyes are full of adoration.

“C-Cum? Please?” He is struggling to speak, and you can't help but take mercy on him. He was so cute not to.

“Sure, baby. You can cum,” You coo, leaning forward to kiss his abdomen. He lets out a whine in thanks and nods his head.

A couple seconds go by and his breaths become quicker, louder too. His toes begin to curl, and he grips onto the bedsheets. “N-Now!” He begs, and you quickly take out the rod for him to cum.

White liquid flies out and falls onto his stomach, and you continue to use one hand to stroke him through it all. He takes loud gasps and lets out a loud shaky moan, and then another equally loud and high in pitch. His body constricts in odd, but cute ways, and he clenches his eyes shut, causing more tears to fall down his face.

You sit and admire him, only stopping your hand movements when he lets out a broken sob at the feeling of overstimulation.

A couple seconds go by, and you hum quietly, waiting for him to talk. Depending on what he says will determine if he wants to keep going or rest. The ball is in his court.

It doesn't take him too long to decide, obviously still in the subspace, but willing to communicate.

“Wanna. I wanna. H-Hey, why did you stop?” He complains, whiny and dramatic. You raise your eyebrows at him and bark a short laugh.

You aren't even surprised at this point. So, you pick up the rod again, and he stares at it, like a dog to a bone. He grins, the smile fucked out, and lazy. “Feels, so empty. Put it back, pleaseeeee!”

When you plunge it back in, he almost cums again on the spot.

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[taojjang]

riize when you're on your period ✮⋆˙

pairing: bf!riize x fem!reader, genre: fluff (tiny bit of crack idk), warnings: menstrual cycle, blood, medication

♡⸝⸝ how he'd spoil you rotten during that time of the month

shotaro . . .

◦ oh how sweet he'd be :(

◦ taro is always the sweetest to you, treating you like a princess every waking moment of your life.

◦ but when you're on your period, he does everything in his power to lift your spirits and make you feel better.

◦ he wouldn't shy away from buying your feminine hygiene products! a real man, we love to see it!

◦ he'd be at your house every day, calling you beforehand to ask if you need him to get something for you.

◦ even if you say no, he'll never arrive empty-handed. he'll bring your favorite ice cream and maybe even a new teddy bear!

★ - "i'm sorry you're having a tough time, honey... is there anything i can do for you?"

eunseok . . .

◦ not a single day goes by where eunseok isn't spoiling you, waiting for your every request

◦ nothing changes during this time of the month; your caring boyfriend still stopping at nothing to make your life as easy as it can be.

◦ the only difference is that he'd never leave your side for even a second.

◦ he'd be sat beside you stroking your hair, occasionally checking to see if you're in pain or need anything from him.

◦ in the morning he'd ask you what you feel like eating so he can plan out today's meals, always ensuring his baby is happy and well-fed </3

◦ once he notices even a small wince from you, he wastes no time, rushing to grab a hot pack and leaving soothing kisses on your forehead.

★ - "i know it hurts, darling, i'm sorry. i'll take care of it, i promise."

sungchan . . .

◦ your cuddle buddy!

◦ whenever it's that time of the month, really all he wants to do is scoop you up in his arms and hug all of the pain away :( ... which conveniently works!

◦ when you're experiencing cramps, sungchan is always beside you, gently rubbing your tummy. he holds you delicately in his arms as if you'd shatter with too rough of a touch.

◦ his large, warm hands work wonders for your minor cramps and he knows that, so he never stays far from you in case you need him.

◦ but when your cramps are intense, sungchan always feels so sad and helpless :( he frantically researches remedies while you curl up in his lap, crying against his chest.

◦ he wipes your tears and kisses their trails, trying his best to soothe you in any way possible.

★ - "i'm so sorry, princess... the medicine should be kicking in any second now. should we try to take a nap?"

wonbin . . .

◦ a clueless cutie (・・ ) ?

◦ he'd be helplessly sitting beside you, too scared to touch you in fears of hurting you even more.

◦ nevertheless, he'd still be layering you with blankets and googling how to help his suffering gf (he's a loser and you love him!)

◦ in the end, he asks you to tell him whatever it is that you need, but all you want is cuddles and snacks :( so ofc he delivers!

◦ he'd order a bunch of your favorite snacks and find a good movie to watch

◦ would put on a comedy but laughing hurts your stomach so you watch a sappy romance instead, aaaand now he's stuck wiping your tears while you ugly cry over some cliche movie...!

★ - "you're such a crybaby. come here, let me kiss you."

seunghan . . .

◦ the way he treats you when you're on your period alone is already grounds for marriage

◦ seunghan would cater to your every need— buying your hygiene products, running errands, completing house chores, shit maybe even doing homework for you

◦ he just can't see his baby in pain :(

◦ the second you're leaning over in pain, he's running over to hug you probably with tears in his eyes

◦ every little flinch and he's asking if you need to go to the hospital

◦ he's the most caring boy in the world and he'd do anything for you <3

★ - "i'm sorry it hurts so much, angel... but i'm so proud of you, you know that?"

sohee . . .

◦ sohee would wear a stoic and confident act, but the poor boy is just a confused, scared, anxious little dude...

◦ he would be less clingy than the other members but would still travel lengths to make you feel better.

◦ sohee would work on lifting your spirits! he'd love to pick up food from your favorite restaurant and eat with you :3

◦ he'd do anything to make you smile— often ordering frozen yogurt at 2am and watching naruto until sunrise

◦ he knows how excruciating your menstrual cycle is, so he does everything in his power to make you happy even if its just for a split second.

◦ he's just your little ball of sunshine <3

★ - "i know it hurts, pretty girl... how about i order froyo? would that take your mind off of it..?"

anton . . .

◦ GOD SAVE THIS POOR BOY

◦ he is just about as emotionally drained as you are...

◦ every time you'd whine in pain, he'd hold you close to him and cry with you, constantly whispering apologies and comforting words.

◦ he goes out to buy your hygiene products but probably ends up calling you to tell him which one to buy... poor boy is super shy but he reminds himself it's for your girlfriend!

◦ he probably asks you questions about your period so he can become more prepared and knowledgeable, but you're not in the mood to talk so you end up cuddling instead (◡﹏◡)

◦ you lie cuddled up against his chest as he strokes your hair with one hand and rests the other on your lower back, soaking in each others' presence.

★ - "you're so admirable, my love. you're doing so well."

[cripplecharacters]

How should you write/draw burn survivors? I know this isn't a drawing blog but I don't know of one that I could ask this question to.

Hello!

I'm not a burn survivor myself, so I'll mostly talk about facial differences/visible disability in general and link some stuff made by burn survivors.

First thing, I think it's important to remember that being a burn survivor changes a lot of things - not only appearance. Very important part is the psychological one, but I'm not a burn survivor so I will just let the resources linked below speak.

From the physical aspect, burns can also come with: chronic pain, limited range of motion due to scarring, tightened skin, problems with regulating temperature, itching, skin irritation, and even different nutritional needs during the initial healing process.

There is also specific everyday care associated with burns - something you basically never see in fiction. That could be things like occupational therapy, physical therapy, skincare (like heavy moisturizing and scar massaging), wearing sunblock, wearing splints, or stretching to prevent contractures or tightness.

There are also different types of burns and they (unsurprisingly) differ from each other - for example, electrical burns have a much higher rate of amputation than any other type. Chemical burns can cause eye issues. A burn caused by a fire in a closed space might result in a brain injury due to the lack of oxygen. A much larger portion of people than you (probably) assume have survived burn injuries as small children, and if they were young enough they might not even remember the event at all, unlike older people who might be very affected by the trauma.

Experiences of a person with 80% body surface burns, a person with quadruple amputations from an electrical burn, a person with a facial burn, and a person burnt very recently will be different from someone who has a 5% body surface 2nd degree burn in a spot that’s usually hidden, who has lived with their burn for a decade - despite them all being burn survivors.

When it comes to more thorough research, I recommend going through Phoenix Society’s and Face Equality International’s websites to learn more about both real burn survivor’s perspectives, and face equality as a social justice topic. I think the 3rd link (see below) puts it very well when talking about burn survivors being represented in fiction:

“Most likely, these characters were not created by someone with lived experience. The result is an increasingly garbled game of telephone [...] To avoid contributing to this false narrative, embrace research as part of the process. Explore interviews, first-person accounts, and articles from reliable sources.”

I personally think that the links below should be mandatory reading for writing not only burn survivors, not only people with facial differences, but visibly disabled people in general - because the treatment we get is often so similar the advice still holds up just fine. And if you don't plan on writing any of these, you should still read them to see how prevalent of a problem ableism in media is.

Lise Deguire's Hey Hollywood - scars don't make you evil.

Face Equality International's International Media Standard on Disfigurement.

Niki Averton's Tips for Writing about Burn Survivors.

The main sentiment that you will read from basically any first-hand source is that if you're writing the burn survivor to be either:

evil (just throw the whole character away)

a guy with the "World's Saddest Most Tragic Backstory Ever and It's So Sad and Tragic" (because he revealed he has a scar)

a helpless victim who is there to be The Helpless Victim

...then you're already doing it wrong and need to make some major changes.

From our blog's reblogs and posts, you might want to look at tips for writing a visibly different/disabled character and tips on drawing people with facial differences. Neither are specific to burn survivors but cover the topic of visible disability and facial differences.

Now for tips on drawing burn survivors (that weren't included in the last link);

Reference real people. 99.9% drawings of burn survivors seem to go through the same "increasingly garbled game of telephone" that Niki Averton mentions with how burn survivors are written, in that the newer the drawing, the less in common it has with how real people with burns look like because people reference from each other and none of them ever think to actually check if their depiction is accurate. If you just google "burn survivor" you will very quickly notice that burn survivors don't have that damn red overlay layer put on top of their skin. It just doesn't look like that, and basic research (aka Google Images search) will tell you that - and still, people color a hand with bright red and think that's how it looks like (it doesn't).

In the same vein, maybe don't just draw an able-bodied person and then put some scarring on top (or maybe do exactly that. No burn scar and no burn survivor is the same, and there are people that fit what I just described... but hear me out for a second). Think about how scars interact with their features - do they have both of their ears? Do they still have all of their hair? Do they only have parts of their eyebrow? Do they have all of their fingers? Can they move the same as before their burn, or are their scars limiting their joints? How did their body react to the post-burn hypermetabolism? Lots to think about. Take into account what type and thickness of burns your character has.

Ditch the mask trope. Just ditch it. There's no need to cover your character's scar from the world unless you as the author think it requires to be hidden, is too scary to show, or other ableist trope that seems to always come up with drawings of visibly disabled people, especially burn survivors. The one exception I will mention is a transparent face orthosis/mask (TFO) that facial burn survivors might wear while awaiting a skin graft early after their injury. But as the name suggests, it's transparent and doesn't work for the "scary facial difference, better cover it up and only reveal it in some hyper dramatic scene!" trope because you can see right through it. (I will also mention that TFOs are a very modern thing. Your medieval burn survivor wouldn't be wearing one).

No "body horror", no "gore" tags or trigger warnings or whatever. That's a human being. If you feel the need to warn your followers before they see a disabled person existing, you're better off not drawing them.

Some last notes;

Throughout this ask I used the term "burn survivor" rather than "burn victim" because that is, to my knowledge, the general community preferred phrase. Individual opinions will differ (because no group is a monolith) but "burn survivor" is generally the safest term to use and probably the best if talking about a fictional character.

Similarly, I used "facial difference" rather than "disfigurement". Just as the above, opinions will differ on what is the best to use but I personally, as someone with facial asymmetry and a cranial nerve disorder, heavily prefer the term "facial difference" over "disfigurement". (I am in this case The Individual Opinion Differing because you can notice that in the links above, facial difference and disfigurement are used interchangeably. The general community uses both, some people have specific preferences. I'm some people). When talking about a fictional character, "facial difference", "visible difference" and "disfigurement" are all probably fine. Just stay away from calling a person "deformed".

mod Sasza

[puff0o0]

Hes so goofy I literally love him

(credits to @niktocallofduty for the image !!)

It pains me how underrated Nikto is, he's such an amazing character with an amazing storyline. AND HIS VOICELINESS??? AUUUGHHSHSHSHSHSHHDHD

So little content for a guy with such an interesting backstory. Like he was a CIA agent??? and he was captured?? escaped with his life and then became this brave soldier that never stopped fighting to protect those who can't protect themselves??? the torture is sad though :( my pookie bear did NOT deserve that

I love how they wrote his lines and I LOVE the voice they chose for him. It fits him so perfectly it's unbelievable, Gideon emery did such an amazing job with voicing him

His personality is hard to analyze (because he has many) and I really wish we got to see more of him so we could see more of how he's like. The only thing that is helping me is researching DID (which is what I belive he has, if I'm wrong please correct me) and colliding his canon personality with it

its so worth it in the end though

hes so pretty

his eyes are gorgeous

i sob everytime

Not a single time where he looks bad in all these images

hes so perfect

I also feel like so much content can be done with him and it's not limited to one category. he is such a interesting yet complex character and honestly deserves the world for all he's been through 😢

ANYWAYS, SMALL HCs

☆ He is the type of man to distance himself from you when he's upset so he doesn't take it out on you. Most of the time it's him taking a long shower or spending time driving around.

☆ He doesn't really go anywhere except sometimes sports bars, but that's a rare occasion as he doesn't wanna leave you alone too long

☆ but he can't be perfect all the time, sometimes he snaps and it leads to him taking some of it out

☆ He understands when you don't accept his apology and that you were hurt by his words and he makes sure he does everything he can to make up for it and prevent it from happening again

☆ he never wants to hurt you nor does he mean to hurt you. He tries his hardest to be away from you while he's having an episode

☆ he adores cuddling but he will never say it outright. He doesn't even correlate it to the word, just seeing it as a means of showing affection. His favorite way is holding you at night on top of him, almost as if you were a weighted blanket for him. ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡

☆ You always wake up away from him or without him as he's already up

☆ He'll wake you up with breakfast in bed sometimes

☆ He makes you breakfast in the morning, usually he picks but if you want something specific he'll try to make it. He has to practice it if he's never made it before though 𖦹 ´ ᯅ ` 𖦹

☆ His favorite meals are Kasha or Blini ₍^ >ヮ<^₎ .ᐟ.ᐟ

☆ His nicknames for you are: Куколка (doll), принцесса (princess), драгоценная (precious), Родная (sweetheart), and ангел (angel) ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹

[byunpum]

My lost child…

Pair: Aunt Sully human x Spider Socorro (mother and son)

Warning: None. Cute, Kinda sad, Y/N being a good mother.

+REQUEST "Here"+

Note: My baby spider need love and attention. I got sentimental doing this writing. Auntie Y/N would be the perfect mother for him.

"Are you sure you want to keep this baby?" says norm, as you hold spider in your arms, a baby just 10 months old. The first time you saw this baby was in the arms of Socorro, a coworker. You were from the research area, but you still shared with other friends from other areas of work. And it was also the first time you saw the child of your husband's lover Miles Quaritch, who had betrayed you with this woman a few months ago.

She had a smile from ear to ear, showing her son to the others, with an air of self-satisfaction. She gave you a few glances as she laughed. You barely approach the group of ladies now surrounding the newborn. You decide to turn around and go back to the laboratories, you had a lot of work to do and the mission to escape to a safe area, in order to save the Omaticaya was your priority at the moment. After the war, many people were sent to earth, but some were too young to travel.

And there you were holding a baby that reminded you of all the pain you once had. But, what was this child's fault? None. "Yes…I'll take care of him" you say, pulling the spider closer to your chest. Norm watches you, he has been by your side all along, he knows how you feel. But he also knows your heart is so big. "You and your brother Jake have a heart like a chicken," he jokes. Norm knows he'll be safe with you.

That same night you are with spider, in your room. A small room, which had a very small bunk bed. A small dresser and a mirror next to it. You had to decorate it so it would be perfect for a baby. You are preparing a kind of nest with the sheets, you wanted him to sleep next to you. "ba b aba" spider barks, as you set up. "You're in the mood to talk, huh?" you laugh, as you reach over and give him a kiss on the cheeks. And you lay him down next to you, as you wrap him in your blanket. Your face is close to his face, while his cute little hands touch and caress your cheeks. As he lets out a few laughs. "You're a very happy baby… aren't you" you speak, stroking his golden curls. Spider begins to cry a little, and you pull him to your chest so that his head rests on your chest, so that he can hear your heartbeat.

This hurt you so much…you were not able to have children on your own, you had so many pregnancy losses that you had already lost all hope of being a mother. This was one of the many reasons why Quaritch had decided to look for another woman to give him what you could never give him. But here you were… caring for a baby that was the image of the betrayal that those two people had done to you. But your heart was not selfish, it was not cruel. It never had been… you couldn't be cruel to a baby who needed you. You needed him.

His little hands squeezed your hands, bringing one of your fingers to his hand. "I will take care of you… forever" you speak, as you stroke your boy's hair. For a moment you come back to reality, and there was spider, scared and hurt. His body was shaking with cold, as he hugged you and his head was pressed against your chest. Even though he was all wet, you could still feel the tears coming down from his eyes. "Mom…I'm scared," says spider, trying to breathe calmly into his oxygen mask.

You hadn't seen your son in the last 4 months since the RDA had kidnapped him, and now he was hugging you so tightly, you felt like he was going to crack a rib. " Darling…I'm here…it's ok. I found you, mommy is here" you speak while hugging your son. As you watch the boat sink into the sea. Your whole family was together, Jake and Neytiri and your nephews. Neteyam was hurt, but he was okay. Everyone hugs each other, while your sight drifts to the water… you almost lost what you loved the most in this life. You feel a hand drag you by the arm, and you see it's Jake. Hugging you and spider. "Here we are…together" Jake says, as the other family members gather to hug them.

Hours later, everyone was at the metkayina clan, in the marui that everyone shared. Neytiri was taking care of neteyam, and your other nephews were talking to each other. Jake had gone to talk to Tonowari and Ronal. While you were tending to spider's wounds, the boy was silently watching you carefully place the medicinal paste on his wounds. With such love and passion. "And how is he? Did you like meeting your father?" you ask him. Spider just says " mm yes" after a while you ask again.

"And you saw pictures of her… of your mom?" you ask, spider swallows hard. "Yes… and they told me about her. I even saw videos" says spider. Your heart squeezes a little, you're sure they told him about her. That they told him how wonderful his mother was, how he was such a wanted child. "It's good that you know who your mother was," you say, a little hurt. Neytiri was listening to the conversation, she knew the pain in your tone of voice. You had always had the feeling that the day would come when Spider would know more about his mother and you would move on.

Spider can see your face of disgust and sadness. The boy comes up to you and hugs you. "He and that woman do not affect my feelings for you. The one who took care of me…who raised me, and loved me is you…mom. My mother Y/N" says spider giving you a smile. You caress his face, and give him a kiss on his forehead. "I love you too my life" you speak. " I love you more…mama" spider rests his face in the crook of your neck.

Jake had returned from talking to Tonowari, as he walked in he saw the scene. Spider was still hugging you, while you stroked his hair. Jake carefully approaches neytiri's side, just as he sits down and begins to speak, the woman speaks. "eywa gives second chances, gives us something we have lost. It doesn't have to come in the best way…but it will always bring two lost souls together…like those two," says Neytiri, pointing at you. Jake is thoughtful for a moment.

"Am I missing something?" asks Jake, Neytiri just laughs and continues to look after Neteyam. Jake takes another look in your direction. You were hugging your son, he had never seen you so happy, your smile was just like his mother's, right there he could understand everything. Eywa always brings together souls that have been lost…always.

[galedekarios]

Gale headcanons go! :]

thank you for your ask. i'm sorry it took this long to get around to it. my mind blanked.

i want to add that these are solely my own headcanons and just that. nothing more. if you have a different opinion, that's valid. i'm not here to argue or debate about it.

anyhow, these aren't in any particular order, just writing as i think of them:

-gale was clean-shaven before the orb and being discarded by mystra. his hair has outgrown its original style as well. this is the reason why tara hates gale's beard, even when felines usually like to rub their faces against them.

-while gale has enchanted the piano in his tower to play by itself, he can and does play himself when the mood takes him.

-gale doesn't truly get jealous or possessive. he skips that step and slips right into questioning himself and feeling sad/insecure.

-gale tends to overthink, he struggles with anxiety and feeling overwhelmed esp after the orb, but has found methods that help him deal with these feelings and bring them under some form of control to examine them ("please, i need to think... i need to retrace my steps to a glade of calm and think.")

-he cries at his wedding & struggles through his vows

-he never takes off his wedding ring

-while he is very much an acts of service person in a relationship, he learns to accept and love being taken care of and doted on by his partner

-gale is very much able to find beauty in the mundane and simple things of life: beautiful flowers in a garden, the way the light falls at sunset, the sound of rain tapping against the window, the fresh salty sea breeze in the morning, a warm cup of expensive tea, a beautiful piece of art, a touching poem

-he often prefers walking home with his partner after work instead of using portals or teleportation. it allows him to talk about both of their days and show his partner things about the city he loves so very much. it also allows him to clear his head after a long day.

-his spellbook has pages that look like this:

when tara has decided that nagging him to stop working didn't cut it anymore.

-speaking of: gale gets so absorbed into his work and research that he skips both sleep and meals

-after his long isolation and depression, struggling with orb and being affected by it physically, gale is quite slender/willowy (tara has several lines reminding him to eat and take care of himself in an origin run) with a soft stomach and no muscle definition

-he's ~175 cm

-he's touch-starved

-while he does like to cook for others, he doesn't tolerate anyone helping him with the task. he will however appreciate it if his partner cooked for him.

-his tower now is quite barren, except for his extensive book collection, having consumed most magical artefacts he owned

-after his return to waterdeep, he likes to fill it with little things he has collected over time. the space is healing as much as he is.

-gale still suffers from chronic pain flare-ups, even after the orb is gone/calmed

-he likes it when things (fabrics, clothes, pens, books, etc etc etc) are well made and of high quality, but not necessarily ostentatious

-he has an eclectic taste, sort of imparted on him by morena's own

-his father abandoned him and morena

-gale is extremely open-minded and accepting, and will entertain almost any and all thoughts and opinions as long as they are well argued for / follow a sound logic

-while he's not easily spooked or scared given how diverse and open waterdeep is, nothing quite managed to prepare him for the things he would see during the journey to cure himself and the others of the tadpole. his knowledge was mostly academic, save for the stray unfortunate death slaad encounter. he works through these things by compartmentalising. writing them down, examining them and going over them in his mind.

-he hopes that he and the friends he's made on this journey will stay close. he writes them regularly and is elated when he receives a reply himself, but will need encouragement and reassurance to organise a get-together in waterdeep.

-his biggest flaw is not hubris or the ambition in the pursuit of knowledge he held as a chosen, his biggest flaw is his sense of worth as gale dekarios, the imperfectly perfect human being, the person behind the titles and accomplishments and perceived failures and insecurities

-he still has to realise what truly happened in his 'relationship' with mystra and still has a lot of healing to do after the game ends

-in the early stages of his relationship with his partner, he's very willing to please/tolerate, at times sadly to the detriment of his own preferences (drow twin scene)

-while he takes compliments in stride, he still likes and appreciates word of affirmation and praise; his partner insulting or degrading him would wound him deeply

-while he wouldn't be a father himself, he would be perfectly happy to be the eccentric uncle. yet even so and while he does love it, he would need time to recharge his social batteries after / recover from the overstimulation that being around children for a prolonged amount of time brings.

-gale's magic is a second nature to him and he likes using it even for the many mundane things, turning the page of a book, getting a spice from a high shelf, etc

-he's a born sorcerer with a wizard's education

-after settling in waterdeep with his partner, he lets his hair grow out more

-while easily lost in his work and research, gale is extremely thoughtful about anniversaries or birthdays, always striving to find the perfect gift

-he likes reading to his partner or being read to & discussing it, exchanging thoughts and opinions

-it's canon that he does write poetry, i like to imagine he'd sometimes leave little haiku-esque verses for his partner

i'm sure i have more, but they escape me right now so. 🖤

[porkcutletbowl44]

More Simon x Goth!reader

(SFW & NSFW MDNI)

๋࣭ ⭑🕸🦇🕸๋࣭ ⭑

Simon happily listens to everything you explain about your love for goth music and the culture of it. He even researches on the side to talk to you more about it!

He's your man now, you're his girl, you both indulge in each other's interests and hobbies so of course Simon is going to be the most supportive boyfriend he can be!

"So.... What is clean goth?"

(Glaring) "We don't talk about that."

You both are so different, yet the exact same no one knows what to classify your relationship together—so similar in styles, the black clothes, black makeup (warpaint for Simon, and makeup for you), the gloomy aura, you both seem the same on the outside.

But when people talk to you, they immediately realize you are just a little ray of sunshine hidden in shadows, while Simon rarely ever talks and stays close to you as your big scary guard dog boyfriend privileges.

Simon definitely has some art skill, he's drawn on his own arm while on deployment to pass time (and as free therapy) so he definitely does a few tattoos for you!

When they are particularly painful spots, he's got a light hand and making sure you're alright.

He's always making sure you have your snack and drink nearby, keeping your Nintendo switch charged as a distraction so you can be relaxed when you're getting inked.

"Doin' good, hard part is almost over."

"Breathe, helps wi' the pain. You're doin' so good."

You're Simon's now, if he can make you happy then by God he's gonna do it if it's the last thing he does! If you want a tattoo in a more private area, Simons is jumping on it. Researching about the tattoo sight, best needles, best position for comfort, anything and everything. He's not gonna let some other guy tattoo the small of your back, your upper thigh, your sternum, pelvis, nope. It's just not gonna happen! He's not taking that risk of some other man putting his grimey hands on you!!

Sometimes Simon gets sad when you don't let him kiss all over your face, he just wants to show you some love :(

Your makeup might smudge, ruin all your hard work from the hours it took to get your hand steady.

Simon had an easy fix for this, he buys you top of the line makeup that's water proof and smudge proof! Even buys plenty of the made remover to take it off easily!

Now Simon gets to kiss you whenever he wants! (although he very much enjoys when your make up smudges from the tears of trying to take all of his cock, smudging your black lip stick on your lips and cheeks, your mascara and eyeliner running, but hey, it totally adds to the aesthetic!)

Simon loves obedience in general given his military work, but in love with the way you're his good girl.

He knows you live for the praise (and he's very open to anything else you're interested in on the table ;)) you're just so sweet!

Loves how you come to him with a new idea every night, almost busted in his pants when you showed him one of your slip chains with a little skull on the end of it. It's by far his favorite accessory of yours!

"Perfect thing, you are..."

"Fuuuck, you're takin' me so well, princess."

"Eyes on me, wanna watch you cum, want you to watch me cum inside you."

He's gonna pull it up high to maintain eye contact with you, nowhere you can turn your head when his cock is kissing your cervix over and over, he wants to watch your face when you cum and make a creamy ring at the base of his cock.

"like tha', don't you?"

"Pretty, perfect, gorgeous pussy, all mine..."

"Gonna cum? Yeah? Come on, fuck— thas it, thaaass it—"

🫠🫠🫠🫠

[sexydoffyman]

this one is kinda strange

so basically reader is a female, and really wants to please her partner, konig. so she tries losing weight, but ends up exaggerating and it ends in fluff. tysm if youll consider doing it <3!

SAVIOUR

genre: slight angst to fluff

characters: König

A/N: Hope ya liked it.🦖

You were never in love throughout your life. You always tried to get into a relationship, but since you didn’t fit the beauty standard, you were always met with the same answer. “Sorry, but I like thinner girls.” You never gave it much thought. You didn’t love them anyway, so why would you need to change?

That was your mindset until you met him. König. You both fell in love the moment you met. You started meeting more often and it eventually ended up being a relationship. You finally, for the first time, felt love.

Everything was just right. He was a little awkward at first, but he warmed up to you a lot over time. The longer you were together, the more you fell in love. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the only thing that came into your life. You started thinking about the reasons why everyone rejected you. You looked at yourself. You immediately started to feel like you disappointed him.

He was a mountain of a man filled with muscle. You thought to yourself that a guy like König couldn’t possibly be attracted to someone like you. It made you feel sad, but you couldn’t just give up. You researched every diet you could. Most of them were just misleading, but you tried anyway. It did result in you getting thinner. Sadly, thinner doesn’t always mean healthier.

You were finally able to look at yourself, ignoring the stomach pain you had to endure every day. You were always tired. You started to get sick more often. Konig never really noticed that you became thinner, but when you started being overall less energetic and more tired, he noticed.

“Hey, are ya feeling well?” He asked worryingly. You looked at him with a smile “Why wouldn’t I be?” He looked at you even more concerned as he noticed your prominent cheekbones. “Have you started taking any new meds?” He continued questioning. “Oh common. You don’t have to worry about anything. I’m absolutely fine!” The more you spoke, to more he noticed that the shape of your face changed.

He finally noticed how much you actually changed. He looked you in the eyes and spoke. “Baby, look at yourself. You can’t possibly be healthy.” His gaze looked urgent. You continued insisting that there was nothing wrong and that he was just seeing things. You kept up the act for quite a while, but you wouldn’t be able to do so for long.

“Imagine if I started starving myself.” That, for some reason, brought you back to your senses. You bawled your eyes out to him, telling him how you thought that he was way above your league. He kept looking at you in disbelief. “Baby please just… let me help you get through this. Alright?”

After that day, he always made sure that you ate enough. And your weight started getting back to normal again. Finally, after such a long time, you managed to get over it. For years, it stuck with you. It was hidden in the back of your head.

He was the only one who was able to fix your problems. Your one true love.

[anonymous-chicken-was-taken]

There is a man named Stanford Pines.

Just about anyone in the scientific community knows his name, and most know his face. It would be hard not to. It's plastered on magazines, on websites, on informational guides about the Institute of Oddology. Stanford Pines is synonymous with the word odd, peculiar, strange; it takes very little digging to find that.

Yet, when it comes to actually meeting the man? No matter who you ask, the answer is almost always no, they have not met him. Everyone knows of him, but nobody knows him. They see his face, they hear his name, they read his papers, they know his arguments. A lucky few even converse with him through email, or letters, or phone conversations. However, meeting him face to face seems to be an occurrence even rarer than the beasts he writes essays about.

Sometimes, he makes a public appearance. Sometimes, someone will see him walking about in some small, secluded space. His co-founder follows him like a shadow, never long taking his eyes away, full as they are of both care and peculiar caution.

Even more unheard of, sometimes, Stanford Pines will do something that interacts with the public. Once every few years, he will appear for an interview, or a photo, or something else to please the magazines that fill up his inbox. McGucket will be with him, every single time, and afterwards there will be whispers on the very internet he created from the people he'd spoken to. By all accounts, Stanford Pines is a very subdued, polite gentleman. Someone who is very intelligent and awkward, and attached to his co-founder at the hip. A man who is followed at all times by an army of personal security and NDAs. "For safety," McGucket will say as Pines' face goes dark. No one ever explains who's being kept safe, or from what.

To the students at the Institute of Oddology, it's even stranger. Nowhere does it say that seeing or meeting the core founder is guaranteed -- in fact, in comparison to other institutes, it's hardly even advertised that he's there -- but it's still surprising. If Stanford Pines is seen at all, it's almost always from behind a screen. Some students graduate without ever having seen him in-person. He does not attend events. He does not greet families. He does not make speeches unless he's being projected on a screen, a stark contrast to McGucket and his exaggerated mannerisms as his very real and present form hovers nearby. He holds no office on the entire campus. It is not unheard of to see him taking a walk with his co-founder, but it's rare enough to be shocking.

Rumors fly. Some are silly, absent things that would seem implausible to anyone who hasn't spent time in Gravity Falls. He's a vampire. He's a robot made by McGucket. He's a whole eldritch entity. Some rumors are more serious, whispered when his reclusive nature rings suspicious among the masses. None of them change the facts.

Perhaps it would make more sense if his co-founder was similar. However, Fiddleford McGucket is the polar opposite of Stanford Pines. He responds to interviewers asking about his computers. He makes speeches. He wanders around campus, stopping to chat with anyone who cares to listen. He's amiable and approachable as long as you can get past his rather extreme eccentricities, with an open-door policy and only one question he won't answer. If anyone builds up the guts to ask about Stanford Pines, and why he's so gosh darn reclusive, his only response is a sad, painful smile and a change of subject. In general, however, if one were to ask a given student of the institute where they could find Fiddleford McGucket, the chances are would be they'd be able to relay the information. However, like so much having to do with Stanford Pines, there is always a but.

At least three days a week, Fiddleford McGucket disappears for hours at a time. In theory, this would not be unusual. There's a section of the campus, slightly separate from the rest, dedicated to research. It takes much clearance to get to this area, for it is full of many very dangerous things. Some of the newer students fall under the misconseption that this is where he goes off to. However, there is a secretary at the entrance to this section of the campus, and when McGucket disappears, no amount of asking will get them to respond that he lies within. There is no summary of what he's there for, and there is no estimate of when he'll be back in his office. He is not there. For those hours, it's like he's vanished off the face of the planet.

There is another building seperated from the rest, barely visible through the trees. Tucked far behind the research area of the campus and heavily guarded at all times. No amount of clearance, or ID, or begging, will get anyone in. This place, most know, is where McGucket goes. No one can be certain, but there's a conviction there that this is the truth. It's the same way people know that this is where Stanford Pines resides. In those hours, McGucket disappears to the same nowhere at all that his co-founder lives.

No one tries to get there. Not anymore. There would be no point.

In order to do so, one would have to get into the research zone of campus. Already, this requires more clearance than most students could imagine. From there, one would have to go through a building only staff can open, at the very back of the campus, where only the most dangerous of research is kept. A security officer stands ever-vigilant at a back door leading to a winding pathway, intersected halfway through by a pair of guard stations. Past them lies a towering locked gate, centered in the midst of a towering electric fence. There is no guard station at the gate itself, though guards patrol the perimeter, even though the underbrush is too thick to walk through. There is no visible way to unlock the gate, but if one managed to get through regardless, they would find that the obstacles were still not over. The acre the fences encircle is thick with security, only some of which is human. It's impossible not to get caught, but if somehow, someone did, they would find themselves face to face with the sloped roof and charming wooden exterior so vaguely visible from the more well-trodden paths.

If one were to make it behind the reinforced door and yet one more pair of security guards, they would find nothing of note at all. In fact, were the windows not so thick, and the place not full of rooms with no place in a residence, and the path not so elaborate, and the whole area not so heavily reeking of isolation and uncanniness, one could almost mistake it for a normal home.

Inside, one would find Stanford Pines. Shorter than his head-and-shoulders shot makes him seem, and with a tangible air of melancholy about him that no projection could ever communicate.

Above all, Stanford Pines would appear incredibly alone, with only security, a McGucket Computer, and shelves upon shelves of books for company. If this someone who somehow managed to sneak in got lucky, they would arrive in this not-quite-a-home while McGucket had disappeared to there. They would find the two of them in deep conversation, and Stanford Pines would appear happier and more animated than most any living soul had seen him in decades, content in the company of his one connection; his shadow. Even when they had serious conversations, about the most serious topics in the world, something about him would be just that bit more lively. The visit would end, every time, with McGucket asking the same question. Every time, Pines would shake his head sadly as he responded; would the answer have been different, they both know that McGucket would have been informed long before he arrived.

Upon his co-founder's departure, one would be able to see Stanford Pines either sigh and sink right back into his melancholy, or the energy persist for another handful of hours. One would wonder why he was so reclusive, if he seemed so much brighter when he was among friends. One -- the impressive, unstoppable individual who managed to get into such a heavily monitored area -- would more than likely leave confused.

They wouldn't realize, unless they stayed within the bounds of the not-quite-home until it was far too late, what the hoards of security was designed for. Wouldn't realize that just as much as much as they are meant to keep someone out, they are also meant to keep someone in.

[oracleact]

« nothing on me »

bayverse raph x reader / fluff + angst

notes: 1.8k words, first person pov, established relationship, gender neutral reader (no pronouns used,) details of injuries and tending to said injuries.

a knock on the window at 3am? that only means one thing: the turtles are here. smiling, I rub the remnants of sleep from my eyes and hop out of bed to open up the curtain. only one turtle faces me at the window though - raphael.

I open the window and help his wide frame step down from the ledge, but my previous smile fades fast when raph groans in pain as he steps onto the floor.

“raph, what’s wrong? where are the rest of the boys? what happened?” I speak as fast as possible to try and get to his answer, worry eating away at me with each second that passes.

my raph is the mass strength and rough hand amongst the turtles. he can handle a lot of damage since he always manages to deal out more than what is done onto him. seeing him bent over, actually using my arm for support and not simply holding me because he wants to, groaning in genuine pain rather than letting out his usual gruff noises of acknowledgment - that scares me. it terrifies me when I don’t know what has happened.

“I told them to check on dad,” he begins breathlessly, “I needed you. it’s really bad this time.”

my eyes widen and I hurry him to the side of my bed, the mattress creaking under his weight. I grasp his face in my hands to check him over, turning his head every which way, but see nothing apart from a few new scratches on his skin.

“what do you mean ‘really bad,’ raph? you’re scaring me.”

“my—“ he lifts his arm and tries to reach for the back of his shell, failing miserably and almost howling out in pain, “my shell, sweetheart. I haven’t seen it yet but I heard it crack and this pain is too much for it to just be taped up.”

I scuttle around his large form and am immediately hit with the sight of a deep crack in the middle of his shell. he was right to come straight to me with this one. he should always come to me with injuries but is too stubborn most of the time and rides out the pain: ‘it may look bad to you but it’s nothing on me.’

when the boys started to properly use their skills outside of the lair, with the risk of larger injuries increasing, I began to research and teach myself how to handle ones specific to these mutants. thanks to many in depth articles about turtle care, I have safely cleaned and covered up small cracks before. the only difference between the boys and ‘normal’ turtles in regards to care like this is their size - it takes longer and requires more focus to clean cracks, ensuring that they can heal appropriately over time. although tonight’s damage will take double that, and maybe more.

“oh raph, oh my…how? wait, don’t answer that. I’m doing my first aid stuff then we can talk about it, okay?” he nods with a sad smile and all I can do is reach out and cup his cheek, returning the expression he gave me. he moves my hand to his lips for a quick kiss before I start scurrying off to grab what I need.

let’s see - chlorohexidine solution, q-tips, cotton pads, adhesive patches and a towel. is that all I need? I have no idea right now; I’m so scared to touch him that I feel like stalling for as long as I can.

I walk slowly back to where he sits on the edge of my bed, his head resting in one hand as the other rubs at his tired eyes. I lay down all that I grabbed from the bathroom before taking a deep breath and sitting down behind him. the room is silent for a couple of minutes after that, my heart beating loudly in my ears. I can’t break my anxious stare away from the crack in his beautiful carapace.

“hey…” raph speaks ever so softly to get my attention.

“yeah— sorry. I’m sorry,” I feel tears begin to form in my eyes. I hate seeing him hurt like this. “I’m going to fix you up. I promise I’ll fix this. I’ll touch around your shell, away from the crack, and you tell me how it feels. let me know how much the pain has spread.”

he gestures ‘yes’ to me but with a frowned brow, “don’t cry, love. everything is okay. I’m raphael, remember? this is nothing on me!”

but I can see it - I can see the pain written on his face, the way his eyes look misty. I don’t want to push him to talk nor do I want to directly acknowledge the pain I can see; I don’t want to break his protective wall at a time like this. it wouldn’t be fair to do so. I wipe my tears and get straight to work instead.

my small hand reaches out for him, gently patting around the edges of his shell then smoothing over the surface, “that’s not bad at all. it just feels tingly, like the nice kind of tingly you give me.” I giggle at him. it’s a relief that the shell hasn’t shattered or anything and he can feel my hand like always.

I’ve spent so many nights tracing over the faint patterns of his plastron and committing the texture to memory. it helps calm him after a stressful training day or when he can’t sleep. it secretly calms me too because it’s just us in those moments, the rest of the world fading away and leaving only raph and I. there’s no need to jump away from my hold to save new york when my touch melts away the city completely. nothing can break us out of that warm paradise as long as we are together.

despite the touch test going well, the cleaning of his wounds will definitely be painful since the crack is open and noticeable. I pour some of the solution onto a q-tip and tell raph to start breathing slowly and deeply. I help him set a pace for it before I begin to clean.

he hisses in pain when the piece of cotton comes in contact with the wound and my tears start to flow again, “I know baby, but this part is important,” I sniffle and reach my free hand for his, “use me to balance yourself.”

“I’ll break your little hand,” there is a fracture in his voice as he speaks but he still manages to let out a chuckle with his words.

“breathe and squeeze, raph, don’t worry about me.”

and so he did - each time I dipped the cotton into the crack he inhaled and exhaled quickly whilst grasping my hand in his. I rubbed my thumb over his rough skin in an attempt to ground us both over and over again.

“one last clean and then I’ll patch it up and be done for tonight.” he lets out a loud sigh at that, obviously glad that the stinging will be over soon. I hear him lowly whimper but force a cough after in an attempt to hide the noise. once again I don’t press him on it, I just kiss the back of his hand to let him know it’s alright.

the last step is to cut adhesive patches to fit the crack, making sure to leave small gaps at the ends to allow air to flow through. this process isn’t all that different from putting a bandaid on a human arm, and thank goodness for that. I want to do everything I can to help raph, to ease his pain, so this being a somewhat ‘easy’ task to complete means luck is on my side right now.

with the last piece secure I get up from the bed to face him again, giving him a small smile to let him know it’s done. I slip myself between his legs and reach out to untie his bandana. his eyes close as he presses his head onto my chest to give me access to the tie at the back.

sliding the cloth from his face, I set it on the bed and wipe underneath his eyes; he looks so worn out. my fingers move down to draw along the scars from previous battles and to check over any new cuts, the pad of my thumb eventually landing on the most prominent scar across his upper lip. my raph, my hero, our hero…with the scars to prove it all.

“give it a week and see how the shell starts to heal. if we need to do more then I’m ready for that. I’ve done my research, you’re looking at a certified mutant turtle nurse,” I wink at him as he laughs and nuzzles further into my hold.

he looks up at me with those gorgeous eyes, the light of the moon catching in them. he may be hurt but he’s here with me and healing in my arms, and I’ll hold this man forever to show him how much he means to me. he’s looking at me in the same way - in awe of what’s in front of him - both of us dumbly grinning at each other. although, he does break eye contact when a yawn suddenly comes bursting out.

“do you want to talk about what happened, or do you want to catch some z’s first?”

“hmm…as much as I want to tell you about how much of a badass I am, I really want to crash.”

he moves to lay on his back before I catch his shoulders with high pitched squeak, “shell!” I whisper-yell at him. his lips form an ‘o’ and I shake my head. only raph could forget about his injuries that quickly.

I slip into the bed first and hold out my arms, beckoning him to follow and to lay on his stomach. he does so almost instantly, getting comfy against me and wrapping his arms around my waist.

“thank you for everything. I trust you with my life, you know.”

“and I trust you with mine, big red.”

I’m seemingly stuck staring down at him, just in stupid awe once more. watching how his eyes are effortlessly closed, evident that he is exhausted, with a faint smile playing on his lips as he shifts around to find the best snoozing position. his shell is now what catches the attention of the moon and I feel satisfied with my work on the crack. I’m still worried but the patch looks good and secure from afar so I’ll take it for it now.

I’m so happy that this brave and unstoppable mutant turtle trusts me with his open wounds, with his physical and emotional scars, with his love and being. this life of ours is crazy in so many ways but I wouldn’t ask for anything to change. well, less wounds here and there would be nice but that might be asking for too much.

[ghostlychief]

Hey i hope your doing well! I was wondering if you can do a oneshot of just ghost taking care of their partner while they're on their period. Kinda like a comforting type thing. Idk i just need some type of comfort at the moment and i would appreciate this so much 💜 thank you

Hello! This request came at the perfect time because i just started my period so, thank you for requesting! The thought of having Ghost as your boyfriend to help you through the aches and pains of it all sounds so nice😭 so, i hope you enjoy the little oneshot i threw together. I also hope that it provides you some comfort, and i hope that you're doing ok <3

--

Heating Pad

Oneshot- Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader

wc: 1062

warnings: none really unless you count periods as one lmao; there's like one mention of blood; otherwise just cuddles and kisses from your big boyfie Ghost

summary: It’s that time of the month again. The time when you’re bloated, bleeding, in pain, and a bit sad. Luckily for you, your boyfriend makes sure you’re looked after during this emotional time.

--

Simon secretly loves how much you need him when you’re on your period. He loves the feeling of being helpful and wanted for something, and one could argue that you’re the neediest during this time. But who can blame you? You’re cramping, bloated, in pain, and overall, just not having a good time.

The first time you got your period when you guys initially started dating, he wasn’t quite sure how to provide for you, or comfort you, in the best way. Did you want to be left alone? He couldn’t imagine you wanted to be around people during this time, but he was wrong. You rarely wanted him to leave your side.

He may or may not have researched the menstrual cycle and learned how your hormones dip and rise throughout. He understands when your energy levels are at their highest and lowest, when you’re most fertile, anything you name it, and he knows it.

He started tracking your cycle, so now he knows which day is your potential ovulation day, and when your period begins and ends. He’s very conscious of the ups and downs you go through throughout your cycle, never one to judge you for having good and bad days. He understands after all, he has good and bad days too.

He quickly came to the realization that you love cuddles and naps when your cramps are raging. You have a heating pad that is never turned off during this time, and can always be found placed on your lower belly. One of your favorite things to wear while bundled up in bed with your heating pad is one of Simon’s large black t-shirts; the lingering smell of him comforts you.

He’s a heating pad himself of sorts, his large frame and body is just always warm, so you love to cuddle with him either on the couch or bed, soaking up all his warmth. Your favorite positions to lay with him are either little spoon, or tucked under his arm with your leg thrown over is waist.

If he’s spooning you from behind, he will stretch an arm out for you so you can rest your head on his bicep. He wraps an arm around your middle and pulls you into him, leaving kisses behind your ear. He will also massage your lower tummy, trying to assuage any cramps or discomfort you may feel. His large hand working wonders. Though his hands are usually calloused and a bit rough, they are always so gentle in handling you, taking extra care and caution when touching you. He knows you’re not made of glass, but you seem so vulnerable during this time and he finds himself being extra protective of you.  

If you’re cuddling in your other favorite position, Simon will wrap a secure arm around your shoulders, pulling you as close to him as possible. His other hand will either be holding your leg that’s thrown across his waist or, rubbing your head; something that always makes you sleepy.

You’re typically more tired during the days in which you’re bleeding, so often times your cuddle sessions with Simon end up with you falling asleep. In these cases, Simon just continues to hold you, and sometimes he'll find himself trailing his fingers along the plush areas of your stomach, and tenderly massages you, continuing to provide you with sweet caresses as you sleep in his arms.

If you were lounging on the couch and Simon found that you fell asleep, he would gently wake you up so you could wrap your arms around his neck and legs around his waist. He’ll carry you to the bed and tuck you in, and place a kiss on your cheek before leaving you to peacefully sleep.

Along with offering you consolation with his touches, Simon also does little acts of service to make your time more bearable.

When you wake up in the morning, you’ll usually find him making your favorite breakfast and a steaming cup of coffee is already waiting for you on the counter. In these instances, you always greet him by wrapping your arms around his waist from behind and give him a warm, long hug. He immediately turns around to properly hug you, swaying you back and forth. You sigh into his chest, tightening your arms around his waist, hands gripping the material of his shirt. He leaves a kiss atop your head before breaking away and leans down to kiss your sweet lips.

If one morning you woke up and there was an unfortunate dark red stain on the sheets, Simon would just coo in your ear and rub your head letting you know that it’s alright. He ushers you to the shower to so he can throw the dirty sheets in the washer and put a clean set on the bed.

When he notices that you’re avoiding his eye, he reassures you that it’s ok and nothing to be embarrassed about.

“A little blood doesn’t scare me, sweetheart. Now go get in the shower and I’ll take care of it.” He leans down and gives your nose a kiss before he gets to cleaning.

When you get out of the shower, you feel much cleaner and more refreshed. You notice that your towel is warm, and conclude that Simon must have thrown it in the dryer to warm it up for you. You change into a fresh set of pajamas, and your find that your socks are warm too.

Like most women, the week of your period generally comes with heightened emotions. You feel overly sensitive and sad, crying at the silliest of things. Sometimes Simon will come home and find you laying on the couch sniffling while you watch tv. He of course comes over to you and makes you sit up so he can pull you into a tight hug, gently rubbing your back before asking you what’s wrong. No matter how big or small of a thing you may be crying about, Simon never laughs at you or makes your feel invalidated. He always accompanies your tears with forehead kisses and warm hugs.   

Simon never fails to provide you with a blanket of protection and warmth as you bear the aches your period brings. He’s extra attentive towards you, making you feel comfortable and safe, which eases the pain of it all.

--

masterlist

[katyaromanoffpetrova]

2 + 1 = 3

Maya is six and will be placed in foster care soon, much to Katya's fear and pain, but Natasha has other ideas.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC • Wordcount: 1.4k • Warnings: none •A/N: thank you for this idea @drama2005 ! I can't believe I never wrote this scene before. Masterlist

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

2019

Katya crashed into Natasha's body with a sigh, nearly knocking a pan out of her hand in the process. Technically, she didn't have ''shifts'' at the orphanage, but ever since Thanos was defeated and half the world was blipped back, it was chaos. 

In the midst of that chaos, she—and the rest of her staff—was trying to get the orphaned kids back with their blipped-back parents or family as fast as she could, before the government could come up with some law that prevented it, or made it more difficult. 

It meant lots of paperwork, lots of research, and lots of calling around, all while caring for the kids and trying to keep their environment as stable as possible. Most of them were confused, lost, and didn't know what was going on and what was going to happen. Some had trouble eating, others had trouble sleeping. A lot of tears were shed on a daily basis. Katya tried to be there for them as best she could.

''Another four kids were picked up today by family,'' she mumbled as Natasha set the pan down and wrapped her slumped body into a tight hug.

The redhead hummed, slowly caressing her oily, dark hair. The physical affection was getting more frequent and started to feel like the time before Thanos again. It made her incredibly happy. ''Isn't that a good thing?''

Katya sighed again, reluctantly peeling her face from Natasha's shoulder. ''Yeah, but…'' Dark eyebags stuck out from her pale face like blood in snow, her eyelids heavy like they were being pulled down by strings, but funnily enough, Natasha worried less about her now than a month ago. 

''But what?'' She asked softly, her hands on Katya's cheeks, lightly caressing her cheekbones with her thumbs.

''I don't know.'' Katya looked away from her, around the plainfully plain kitchen and the even plainer living room. They'd only moved into their lake house three weeks ago. ''I spent the last five years with them, I'm kind of sad to see them go, even if I'm really happy for them to be back where they belong.''

''What about—''

''She isn't getting picked up, Nat,'' Katya sharply cut her off, the frustration that she felt accidentally slipping out. The hopes she had for a happy ending for her favorite kid were getting more crushed by the day. ''She doesn't have anyone coming back for her. Her parents are dead-dead, not blipped, and the family we tried to contact doesn't want anything to do with her.'' Her jaw tensed. ''Makes me want to track them down, and—''

''Hey, hey.'' This time, Natasha cut her off before she could get angry, gently turning her head back towards her. ''She'll be okay.''

''No, she won't. She's fragile and sensitive, and she's going to end up in foster care, where there's creeps who take advantage of a sweet girl like her—'' Katya caught herself this time, taking a deep breath in and out until the deep crease on her forehead disappeared. She just felt so powerless. Pitifully, she buried her face in Natasha's shoulder again. ''I'm scared and sad for her.''

''I know, I know.'' Natasha rubbed her back, barely hearing what her wife said. Her mind was reeling with thoughts it had before, or maybe it were dreams. Anyhow, they were worthless back then, wrongly timed, but now… She took a deep breath and took the leap. ''Why doesn't she come and live with us?''

Katya didn't react like she thought she would. The brunette didn't move a muscle, mumbling into Natasha's shirt. ''I thought of it, but… I didn't think you'd want that.''

''Honey, it's been the two of us for five years now. This place could use some life.''

Carefully, Katya picked her head up, as if she was scared she was being pranked. ''Really?''

''Yes.'' Natasha smiled carefully, seeing the hope flare up in her wife's eyes. ''We have two empty bedrooms upstairs. One could be hers.''

Katya fully perked up, her mind going crazy with plans and ideas. ''Until we can find a good family for her. It'll give us time to vet check them.''

Ah. That's why she didn't react surprised before. She thought that Natasha meant the girl would only be staying temporarily. She never thought that she would suggest adopting. 

Weird excitement caused Natasha to contain a smile as she prepared to give Katya the biggest shock of her life. ''Actually, I was talking about a permanent stay.''

Katya froze, her eyes widening. It was nearly comical how it took her a few seconds to process. ''Per— You mean adopting her.''

''We've always talked about kids. We know her, she knows us, it feels right.'' Natasha seemingly spoke very casually about it, but her heart raced in her chest. ''Don't tell me you haven't thought about it.''

''Not thoroughly,'' Katya answered slowly, wide-eyed. ''It flashed across my mind, but I didn't think you'd want it this fast. Not after…'' Natasha nudged her chin up when she saw that Katya was mentally drifting to a bad place. The brunette shook her head, breathing out hard. ''Everything is just back on track. We are just starting to come together again.''

''True, but I doubt the adoption process is that fast. We probably still have a month or two to get used to the idea.'' 

She had completely knocked Katya into a state of disorientation and disbelief. The woman was just staring at her, lips slightly parted, as she tried to comprehend the entirety of what she was implying. Usually, Katya was the dreamer, and Natasha the realist. So this was by far the most unexpected thing Katya had ever expected to come out of her wife's mouth.

''Really?''

Natasha nodded, running her hands down Katya's arms until she could hold her hands tightly, giving them a reassuring squeeze. ''I've wanted nothing more than a family with you my whole life. You know my silent dream of being a mom. Maya's—''

''Perfect,'' Katya breathed, starting to get on board with this crazy dream.

Natasha nodded again. Maya was perfect, damaged and all. ''She came onto our path for a reason, Kat.''

''I thought you weren't superstitious,'' Katya teased. Natasha half-heartedly rolled her eyes.

''Well, after the twists and turns our lives have taken, and the place we ended up, how can I not be? I got everything I wanted. Peace, a home, you.'' She let go of one of Katya's hands to pull her closer by her hip. A light blush spread across the brunette's cheeks. ''There's only one thing missing, and I feel like it's her.''

Katya could barely contain her excitement. She wanted to take that leap of happiness with Natasha, but cautiousness slipped into her system after everything that happened. ''Can we even adopt? With our past, it's not exactly the best background to raise a kid.''

''Well, we did save the world… twice. And the universe… once, so who better to raise a kid than that?'' Natasha shrugged with a smirk. ''Besides, if Tony Stark, of all people, can raise a half decent kid like Morgan, then surely we can too.''

Katya snorted, untangling her hand from Natasha's to drape her arms over her shoulders. Their fronts were pressed together, creating an intimate bubble filled with pure bliss. ''It's a big responsibility,'' she muttered, staring deeply into those warm, familiar green eyes.

''And nothing we can't handle together.''

Natasha's confidence was contagious. Katya's heart beat with hope. ''You're serious?''

''Dead serious,'' Natasha promised, pulling her hips closer. Motherhood was the last thing she would ever think lightly about. ''Do you want this too?''

Katya breathed out a disbelieving laugh, shaking her head slowly. ''More than I want to kiss you, and I really want to kiss you right now.''

Natasha smiled joyfully. ''Then I'm in if you're in.''

Her answer came in the form of a lovesick look that meant a thousand words. The love poured out of Katya's eyes as she stared at her wife in excited disbelief. They were doing this. They were finally going to have that family they always dreamed of. 

The road may have been long, and incredibly, incredibly difficult at times, but this was where they were always meant to end up. Together, safely, as a family. Fate had a weird way of working out exactly like it was supposed to.

''I love you,'' Katya whispered, affection dripping from every syllable so heavily that Natasha felt her knees weaken.

''I love you too.''

[auncyen]

SO WHEN I STARTED Sif having a bad King fight and then freezing (which lead to Isa and Mira being sad), I'd. kind of wondered where that left Loop, and that's like the one part I wanted to get to, even if I don't plan on writing past that.

Loop is...not doing that great. I'm still figuring out how exactly this conversation would go (Odile wasn't planned at first LOL) but yeah there's a lot of "UM":

You got better. You got to leave the infirmary, though they still wanted you to stay in the House itself for a bit, just in case something happened, rather than being all the way out in the clocktower. You didn't mind, because you felt you needed to be here.

Sif wasn't getting better. They were still frozen on the highest floor of the House. You started helping M'dame with the research she was doing in the library, including the secret library after Euphrasie entrusted her with the knowledge. She raised an eyebrow when you started skimming through tomes and summarizing the chapters aloud to judge if you should give it a closer look, put it back on the shelf, or put it in the 'maybe' pile--only tangentially relevant to healing Craft or Time Craft, but sometimes writers do go on illuminating tangents. "I, uh, used to be a huge nerd," you muttered, because it didn't feel like the time to hide your smarts when Siffrin needed a cure.

Odile looked surprised for a few seconds. "Interesting. I'd wondered."

"You'd…wondered?"

"You're the only man I've ever heard sound smarter with three drinks in him. I'm curious, but it's fine if you don't want to talk about it. We've business right now, anyway."

You did indeed have business. Unfortunately, it was a bust; none of the books you found had an insight into healing a powerful Time Craft curse that M'dame or Mira hadn't already considered. Mira looked increasingly tired and miserable by the day, and at the end of the week Bonbon came in the House to visit Sif and came down yelling because someone had left flowers at his frozen form and that wasn't right, it wasn't right, because Frin was going to unfreeze and be greeted by dead flowers and that would suck, and if someone had left them flowers the way you would at a grave that was even worse because Frin wasn't dead. Bonbon was very clearly more worked up at the idea of Sif being considered 'dead' than Sif waking up to see dead flowers, but you promised them that yeah! You'd tell everyone to wait to give Sif flowers until they were able to appreciate them again. Because of course Sif was going to be able to appreciate flowers again.

You didn't want to think about the other possibility any more than Bonnie did.

The four of you were all stuck in a painful limbo. The Housemaidens and townspeople didn't seem to know if they should treat you as heroes to be celebrated or glass vases ready to shatter, and as much as you tried to smile you felt increasingly brittle. It was kind of a relief when a new issue popped up: there was a stranger at the Favor Tree.

So, strangers usually weren't a problem. Most strangers are nice! Accepting the change that strangers may bring is a key part of the Change faith!

…Most strangers, even if they had different ways of dress and custom, still looked…well. People weren't sure if the stranger was even human? According to the scattered descriptions, they had a human-shaped body, but the skin was like the night sky stuck over the House when it was frozen, and on top of the body was not a head, but a spiky orb radiating light. Some people were scared the stranger might not be a person at all, but some new kind of Sadness left over from Vaugarde's ordeal, or even the King's creation, since…well, yeah. He'd pinned the night sky over the House while he was controlling it. And he'd had stars on his armor. And the night-sky stranger was lurking at the tree, hiding, which unnerved people once they noticed the new and unusual presence. One of the kids had gotten bold enough (he'd been dared) to approach the tree anyway, trying to call out the stranger to talk, and had gotten frightened by an inhuman voice snapping at him to go away. So. Even if this was a human stranger who'd done extreme Body Craft beyond what anyone in Dormont knew to be possible, they were a rude human stranger who'd decided to take over a town's Favor Tree.

…That was the best case scenario. At worst, they were something created by the King.

You decided that as an ex-Defender you were probably the most qualified to have a talk with the stranger and try to figure out who (or what) they were, why they'd taken over the Favor Tree, if there was an alternate arrangement you could work out… or to take them on if they proved hostile.

M'dame decided you were under no circumstances to do this alone, regardless of how well you'd been feeling lately, so she was accompanying you to the Tree. Which you had no complaints with! M'dame was good backup. You got to the base of the tree, standing under its crown. You didn't see anything yet, but the small handful of townspeople who'd seen the stranger had said they'd always ducked behind the tree or had already been hiding behind it, allowing only glimpses of them. They must have already hidden. "Hello, stranger?" you called. "I'm Isabeau, a Defender from Jouvente. Well…ex-Defender, but, um! My colleague and I would like to talk with you?"

"So now we're colleagues?" Odile murmured to you, smirking even as she scrutinized the tree ahead of you.

"Well!" You lower your voice, flustered. "That's how I was used to approaching people on the job."

"I'm teasing, Isabeau."

You know, you know. It still flustered you.

…Although the lack of response was quickly growing more concerning. "Stranger?" you called. "Are you there? Can you talk?"

Still nothing, except for the faint sound of grass being stepped on, like someone was shifting their weight. Odile huffed. "You go right around the tree, I'll go left--"

"Go away!"

You jumped at the voice. The kid's description really hadn't done it justice, mostly because it was inhuman, crackling in a way you'd never expect from a human throat. But after the brief shock, you moved to stop Odile from going around the tree. "M'dame, wait."

"What?"

"I think they're scared." The way the kid had described it, the voice had been threatening, but the kid had probably already been scared himself. Underneath the strange crackling, the intonation, the way the pitch had wavered… it sounded like the stranger was panicking. You didn't want to make that worse; you might force a confrontation where none was needed. "Listen," you said, raising your voice again. "You don't have to come out right now if you don't want to, but we still need to talk. Okay?"

"…Fine."

"First things first, are you all right?"

"That's your first concern?" The crackling voice was tight, almost sarcastic.

"Um, yeah?" It was now. "Look, people have been getting worried about you hiding out here, but… it's not like you've been trying to scare anyone, right? You've been keeping to yourself."

"I didn't mean to scare that kid. I haven't scared anyone else, unless people are scared of beautiful stars!"

So the stranger…didn't consider themself a person, but a star? Like in the sky?

"People are, in fact, a bit wary of strange stars after the King," Odile pointed out, which! 100% true!! But not something to point out right now!

The stranger immediately got upset, the crackling in their voice sharpening. "So, what, the King has a monopoly on stars now? Isn't he dead? It's not like you beat him with the power of friendship. Oh, King, I'm sure there's a reason you're doing this! We don't have to fight!" The stranger scoffed. "I know that didn't happen."

"The King is dead," Odile confirmed. "You didn't know?"

"You think I can just walk into town and ask questions looking like this?"

You and Odile looked at each other. Some of the tightness left Odile's posture. "They're acting scared," she said, and you knew from that word choice she hadn't ruled out yet the possibility that it was only an act. But she was willing to give the benefit of the doubt for now. "Isabeau, you're better at this, you talk to them."

���Well. Hm. They didn't seem all right, but they also hadn't answered straight when you asked about that. Maybe they weren't ready to talk about themself yet. "If you've got any other questions, we can try answering?" you offered. "I'm Isabeau, he/him, and M'dame Odile uses she/her."

"…They/them for me."

Odile arched an eyebrow. "But no name?"

"No, my turn for questions!" the strange voice said, but then it fell silent for a moment. Were they still scared, or struggling to think of any? You folded your arms and waited, not wanting to rush them. "You're…two of the Saviors. Is, um, the Housemaiden--Housemaiden Mirabelle okay?"

The question made Odile frown. "Why do you ask?"

"It's a little strange that you came out here to talk to me without her, if you thought I might have anything to do with the King. Not that I do!" the voice said quickly. "Good riddance."

"Three-on-one would be pretty intimidating," you point out. That's exactly the reasoning you would have told Mira if she'd asked to come along, too… but the truth is, she didn't know you were out here. Even though her long quest was done, the stress hadn't disappeared, and Siffrin's condition wasn't helping anyone. You hadn't wanted to toss more on her plate. "We were hoping for a nice talk! Anyway, she's fine." Burnt out, but time would surely help.

Time, and Siffrin getting better.

"And the kid traveling with you? They're fine too?"

They knew about Bonnie? "They're fine too. We kept them away from the fighting."

"I know, but--" The voice stopped abruptly.

"You know?" That…was kind of odd, especially with how quickly they'd shut up, like they hadn't meant to let it slip. You'd reassured more than a couple people that Bonnie didn't actually fight with you, was only tagging along with your group because even if they weren't old enough to fight they were old enough to decide where they wanted to be and they'd made it very clear they'd chase after the group if they were left behind. So the star could have learned that secondhand, but that seemed unlikely if they were afraid to approach people with their appearance. Along with the slip, it made you wonder… "Did you, um. Did we meet you before the Body Craft? …Is that Body Craft?" You cringed a little. "Sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but--"

"It's okay. I, uh, I've been told how I look right now."

You immediately felt a pit open up in your stomach. They hadn't seen for themself how they looked? There was no way this could be Body Craft, then, at least not the way you knew it. No one in their right mind would Body Craft themselves without being able to track the process. But 'right now' implied there had been a Change. Odile had caught that too, her expression torn between wariness and alarm.

[an-amber-in-the-ashes]

Hi! I'm a reader with hEDS like Violet, and Fourth Wing made me feel like I'd been spat on.

*This* is what we get for representation? One million instances of pushing through pain?

In terms of Violet being lanky and skinny, I get it. A lot (not all! Not all! Do you hear me! Not all!) of people with hEDS are extremely thin, but also very tall. I felt a bit sad that that second part wasn't explored-- it's way harder to keep from bumping your elbows when your arms are that long. What I really wanted to see with the "uwu I'm sooooooo white-- I mean pale -- and skinny owo" was some kind of sunburn. Hell, even more evident bruising. There are consequences to the EDS complexion (obviously poc will have different experiences, but we're talking about a Generic White Fantasy Girl Here)

I kept hoping that she would get some kind of mobility aid, some kind of help from her small dragon, a brace, anything. We got a few mentions of wraps, but considering her biggest issues seemed to come from her shoulders and knees, that's a bandaid on a stab wound. It wouldn't save her forever.

The opportunity to explore accessible and altered sex positions was entirely ignored. Considering, again, the shoulders, there should have been more thought put into it. (Also, did you know a hEDS symptom is easier bruising? This includes the cervix. Do with that what you will)

I kept waiting for something (electric finger splints? Aches from the storms her powers cause? A day when she finally went too far and couldn't move? Nosebleeds from flying too high?), and it just never came. Violet was the bestest and the most powerful because she pushed through her body's warning signal that something was about to give, and was rewarded with Ambiguously Brown Man #45.

What a waste of time. What a message to give to the people with the same condition.

I didn't have very many opinions about this because I didn't know very much about hEDS. But even to me the whole thing of her having the disease felt kind of gimmicky because of the way that it was treated. I honestly didn't realise (because of the way everything was written) until like the end that her getting injured easily wasn't just another quirky trait of hers because she was just so tiny and petite and fragile.

but after hearing yours and reading other people's testimonies about how debilitating the condition can be, it's really insane to me how RY managed to misrepresent her own condition.

I don't understand why authors always make their mc so short and teeny tiny like it's so weird.

I feel like RY started writing her as a person with EDS and then got bored/forgot about it quickly and just peppered in symptoms while editing.

To me it felt like she was just using it as a way to add to Violet's QuiRy-ness and nothing more.

As far as I remember the only aid Violet got was the big dragon helping her stay on his back while she was riding but I don't think that that helped her very much.

I have mild hyper mobility and even writing for a long time is difficult because of that. So how Violet is able to ride a dragon and fight with a condition a million times worse and no aid I will never be able to understand.

I feel like RY didn't give her any mobility aids or anything because it would make her seem "weak" but de stigmatizing the need for additional help is an entirely different topic.

Honestly imo she just used the syndrome as a gimmick and an easy way to make her character interesting.

There is so much that could have been explored but wasn't.

Another case of lost potential, weak research and bad writing