#because its not that uncommon to have those kinds of struggles and it helps other people open up about their own or just know how you are

[13eyond13]

Sometimes I still think about how sweet it was when that anon checked on me last year when I was posting overly dark jokes. Thank you whoever you were, that was kind

[cho-aaacho]

—Sugar Coating

Masterlist

Summary : All of these times, Choso always treated you like a dependable friend—sharing seven colors with him and standing in the same clouds. Yet he seems oblivious to your deeper feelings. So you try to do something.

"So, do you prefer mountains or beaches?" 

"Choso-kun?"

"I'm planning to ask you on vacation, summer holidays, I guess? So... maybe, it would be nice if I invited you. My brothers will be happy too."

You place the fish food on the table and gaze at Choso for a moment. He was just there, sitting on the table while revealing a gentle smile. He was so calm, to be honest, you could see from those eyes. Something rare for him to show.

"Um... maybe mountains?"

It's rather uncommon for Choso to extend invitations, given his preference for spending quality time with his brothers and the bandmates from his music group. 

With you, he consistently drowned himself in college projects, building walls that seemed to keep any romantic connection between your eyes and his heart.

Honestly, it's a bit frustrating; he treats you like a friend, only a friend. Treating you like someone dependable, someone who cares about him and his brothers. Yet, why does he still have no idea about your kindness?

Day by day, night by night, as you share warm smiles and laughter with him, something within you blooms. It's odd but undeniably overwhelming.

He nods and exchanges smiles, musing. "Mountains? Alright... so, mountains, huh?"

He glides closer, a gentle smile on his lips wrapping you in his gentleness, enveloping your presence alongside Choso's.

Standing by your side, he lovingly touches the aquarium with his nail. His reflection is cast upon the glass, eyes tracked on the fish, following its beautiful golden scales.

"You are always in this place whenever you feel down, don't you? Are you alright? You come here about three times a week, you worry about me."

A silence falls between you and him, affirming Choso's astute observation. 

You came here practically every day to clear your mind. This was an abandoned room at the university that Yuuji transformed into a refreshing chamber with a large aquarium, claiming that it would aid his bandmates and you in revitalizing the struggle.

You love the atmosphere here, the blend of his warmth and coolness, and you love spending your time with Choso here. 

This room was your place whenever your sadness or loneliness flooded in, finding the comfort side in Choso's company that filled your longing and sorrow.

You chuckle. "Um..., Choso-kun is right. I've been thinking about something lately, but it's a bit difficult to put into words."

He nodded. "Oh... I'm always here to help you; that's why I've come to ask you to—"

You clear your throat and interrupt him by saying, "Choso-kun, we're both adults, right? So... I believe you understand that our relationship goes beyond just helping each other. It's not always about you assisting me or me assisting you. There's more to it."

He mused for a moment, blankly gazing at the aquarium. "Oh... am I late in realizing everything? I didn't intend to bring you down."

Continuing, he said, "I always thought maybe you treated me that way because you enjoy helping people. I guess I was mistaken about everything. Yuuji and Aoi joked that I was stupid, and my brothers thought I was just a coward. At first, I believed they were just teasing me."

"Until I witnessed you talking with Megumi, sharing laughter and smiles—you looked pretty there. I understand that all of your laughter and smiles weren't meant for me but for Megumi's. At that moment, I realized I was developing something for you."

Turning towards you, he delicately touched your chin with his fingertips, leaving a gentle touch on your skin. "...it's jealousy."

You are struggling to find words as he leans closer to you, planting a nice yet sweet kiss on your lips. It was only for a split second before his kiss awakened your lips.

He's so warm... 

smooth... 

...wet and cute.

You let him take the lead for a few more seconds, before finally wrapping his arms around you and pressing your body against him, staking a claim.

He giggles between the kisses as he asks, "Thank you, so... is it a yes? Will you go out with me? Do you accept my love?"

Teasingly, you responded, "You didn't even confess properly, Choso-kun. But I think... it's a yes."

[mbti-notes]

Hi! I came across this post of yours /post/179222467392/you-once-said-that-you-are-not-a-religios-person and i was wondering what the things are in Buddhist philosophy that u dont agree with? And also how did u manage to tap into the oneness belief? I heard ppl often get there thru ego death by using meditation or psychedelic drugs. Lately I have been into this topic and into getting into that oneness belief and you seem to know a great deal about philosophy!

If you're new here, philosophy is one of my majors. I learned religious philosophy as part of my studies in the history of human thought, so people sometimes ask me about these topics.

- To be clear, I am sympathetic to Buddhist beliefs and I think the religion has a lot to offer people. Buddhist philosophy underwent a lot of change over the centuries as the religion spread through very different cultures. When you dive deep into the scriptures, you'll find some truly wild ideas about multiverses and supernatural beings. It's hard to get on board with those ideas if you are a rational and scientifically minded person.

At this point, there are several different branches of Buddhism that sometimes hold very contradictory beliefs, yet they all still call themselves "Buddhist" (contrast this with Abrahamic religions that splintered three ways). Such contradictions are possible because Buddhist beliefs are almost designed to be impervious to critique. On one hand, this allows for great diversity of thought. On the other hand, it can make the whole thing seem nonsensical.

For example, I don't agree with how Buddhists conceptualize and characterize the human ego. However, as soon as I raise those objections to these Buddhists over here, some Buddhists over there will argue that there are different levels of understanding and many different ways of looking at the ego depending on how far you've gotten in your Buddhist practice. They simultaneously accept and dismiss my objections. Thus, if you want to be Buddhist, you basically have to accept this sort of incoherence and perhaps dismiss it as illusory or the result of small-mindedness.

At the end of the day, whether I agree or disagree with the beliefs is inconsequential, because no objection is really real or pointing to anything permanent. But when all your thoughts and feelings and behaviors can easily be dismissed as unreal, what happens to your life? Whether or not your life is objectively real, it still seems real to you and you have to live it, and the suffering you experience feels real. Can you dismiss it as just ephemera? There has always been an internal debate in the religion about whether one should be apart from or a part of the material world, and I don't think this kind of ambiguity helps people who are already struggling psychologically.

- I guess you could say I came to the belief in oneness first through intuition, then through science, then through philosophy. I think I mentioned before that, as a child, I genuinely believed that everything in the universe was imbued with some form of consciousness (aka panpsychism). It's not an uncommon belief in children because the human mind has a tendency toward anthropomorphism. For example, I would wonder whether stepping on the sidewalk was hurting it. People had to reassure me that if the sidewalk had feelings, its feelings worked differently than human feelings, otherwise, the sidewalk would object in the same way I would to getting stepped on.

Most people grow up and forget about these silly notions, but I didn't. Psychologists say that normal infant development starts at oneness and evolves into individuality. I feel like the world tried to convince me that I'm this separate, discrete, individual being, but I just couldn't believe it. Separation has always felt to me like a very wrong way to be. Who is right, the psychologists or me? I don't know. Maybe a Buddhist would say we're both right and we're both wrong and that neither is seeing the bigger picture.

To me, it seems as though I was born believing in panpsychism because I don't remember a time when I didn't believe it, so there is no actual "origin story" or explanation as to how I came to the belief. If I am capable of consciousness, why wouldn't it be possible that everything else is as well? If I am capable of being conscious of others, shouldn't there be something out there conscious of me? And if consciousness exists everywhere in everything, isn't reality fundamentally relational? In order for these beliefs to stand, I had to possess the underlying belief that everything in the universe is somehow interconnected despite superficial appearances.

Then, I studied science in school and learned that all matter in the universe is made up of the same constituent elements. We are all stardust. At the atomic and quantum level, the boundaries we perceive between objects are difficult to define. As an adult, I studied philosophy and was introduced to the full gamut of human thought and learned that oneness was a key concept in many Eastern religions. Actually, several influential thinkers in the West (such as Jung) were heavily influenced by Eastern philosophy. Philosophical training helped me sharpen and refine my spiritual ideas.

- Yes, some people come to a belief in oneness through psychedelic drugs. Presumably (according to the limited research that has been done so far), these drugs help to "open up the mind" by restructuring it in such a way that expands one's perspective beyond one's narrow everyday ego concerns. Some people call this "ego death", but I don't like that term. As I mentioned above, I don't agree with Buddhist conceptions of the ego, which some secular Buddhists blithely reduce to "ego death = enlightenment". If you read my previous posts on this topic, you'll see why. I don't believe the ego is a bad thing or an enemy to be vanquished. I've seen how aspiring to ego death can go terribly wrong for people. And I've been exposed to different perspectives on ego and believe there are better ideas out there.

[antiendovents]

Content warning for a very brief mention of Hitler, mentions of someone sui baiting, and mentions of autism fakeclaiming. There are also mentions of abuse, but nothing in depth or remotely descriptive.

Please stay safe <3

at the moment, our current host is a cc!wilbur soot introject. one that formed in the soothouse era. He is uncomfortable using fanart as a faceclaim and tends to use actual photos of the cc as that is what he is more comfortable with - that's him, that's how he looks. (He knows he isn't the actual cc, dw).

His pk display name has his name, pronouns, and emoji combo. Pretty.. pretty standard shit, honestly. He has set up the base account to be an extension of his pk. NONE of this is... uncommon behavior that we've seen in the syscord communities we've been in.

However, in the last week alone, he has been legitimately compared to ADOLF HITLER!! By a singlet who also claimed that DID wasn't an illness and that most people are fakers. another singlet in that server asked if we could split an alter for fun and if we could do that for them. Oh. By the way? We're Jewish. Openly Jewish. We have spoken about being Jewish in that server before. That was known information. yet that person still chose to call us. That. I'm thankful that Wilbur, while hurt, finds it an ironic twist of fate as there is a song by wilbur soot called screensaver where there is a direct lyric "call me Hitler, no one will notice the fucking difference".

Another singlet in a different server asked if he could change his name and icon as it is upsetting other members. That, despite the fact he hasn't DONE anything personally, he is triggering people. Just by existing. Also, apparently, just because he exists, he might support the abusive actions.

Now! The system server, that's the worst bit. Another member told us to kill ourselves for having our base account icon be cc!wilbur. The server staff did NOTHING to the member who has on more than one occasion outright bullied people, actively calling people freaks and telling people to kill themselves.

However, we got banned as wilbur stated he was uncomfortable using fanart as a faceclaim and that it would be more damning for his mental health. He even explained why he had changed the base account, as it was giving us active joy during a really hard time in our current life. That we can not help having an autistic special interest. We also got fakeclaimed on the autism front.

thats.. jeez. people really need to understand that introjects aren't their source and do not owe anyone complete source separation. those singlets sound-- horrible. being an introject of wilbur soot is not the same as being ADOLF HITLER!?!? that singlet just sounds stupid as well, because DID is a real disorder that many people have. the other singlet also sounds very fucking stupid because like-- he isn't his source and if people are genuinely triggered by wilbur soot then they're the ones who should be managing that, they shouldn't expect wilbur to change for them, thats just unrealistic. wilbur soot is not the first person to use the name wilbur, actually his name isn't even wilbur. this kind of logic is so stupid, like are you gonna go tell every single evan out there to change their name just because one evan committed an atrocity? no, no you wont.

and that server is just horrible because WHAT. they just let a member go around bullying others and telling people to kill themselves??? thats just stupid. we honestly hate syscord sometimes, that place is so toxic and they struggle to treat systems like regular people despite the fact half of syscord is made by systems. its really just horrible. also the fake claiming-- like really?? whats even the point of that?? autistic people cannot control special interests ((as far as i am aware)). honestly as long as you aren't giving wilbur soot money by streaming his songs / watching his videos then i think its fine ((try stick to watching reuploads of his stuff if possible because then it might not give him money,, i hope?? i don't really know how youtube works sorry))

[sasquapossum]

Dear Mom:

This is the first birthday you've missed. You would have been 82. Yes, I do still think of you. Sometimes I even say "hi" to you, in the form of the glass sculpture incorporating some of your ashes, occupying a place of honor in our living room. I thought maybe you'd appreciate an update.

I'm doing fine, in a "not much going on" kind of way. Retirement is like that, as you know. I've picked up a few new hobbies, and found ways to be as social as I want to be. Life is pretty good; the trajectory you set me on has worked out well, so thank you for that.

Kevin is ... well, you know. It took us both a long time to understand that "happy" works a bit differently for him than it does for the rest of us, but I think he is happy in his own inscrutable way. He's making a bit of a name for himself in the LOTRO (Lord of the Rings Online) community - not competitively but by doing things that help other people enjoy the game more. He's mapping out new areas, making videos, etc. I guess his love of teaching and helping outweighs his aversion to social activity. I don't know if you remember that he has a cat now, a rescue from the direst of circumstances, and that brings him joy too.

The big story, of course, is Amy. She made quite an effort to come to your little funeral, which was nice. Since then she has gotten straight A's for her first year in college, and leveraged that into a transfer to the school where her boyfriend already was. You never met him, unfortunately, but I think you'd like him. I do. He's a bit goofy sometimes, but ... well, what did you expect? Amy is also enjoying a dorm room with its own bathroom and a lake view if you can believe that. She's excited about the much bigger course selection, and seems to be off to a good start making new friends. She also looks a bit different now, with darkened hair and a much more flamboyant style with clothes and accessories. Quite the head-turner, she is. I'm unbelievably proud of how she has found a way to thrive and done the things necessary to make it happen.

I found a lot of your poetry among the things you left behind. I saved everything I could, to go through later, but most of it's still at the (much emptier) storage area. I did bring some home, though, and have even posted some of it online. I hope you don't mind; you had a lot to say, and that seemed better than letting it be lost forever. Some of my friends on Tumblr - I think you'd like them, they're independent and unique and artistic like you - seem to have enjoyed those. In many ways, I think your thoughts and words might resonate more with today's young people than they did with either your or my generation. Some of your struggles were made worse by the fact that they were uncommon, but now they're less so. I feel like you'd be glad if your poetry could help or soothe someone even after the rest of you is gone.

As you can see, things are going pretty well for all of us. You are missed, to be sure, but I also hope you've found the peace and freedom (especially from pain) that so eluded you in life. The older I get, the more I appreciate what a hard - and lonely! - road it must have been. You were a good mother, and still are because there will always be a piece of you within us.

[zerogate]

The nocebo effect is still observed most commonly during drug trials, where self-fulfilling prophecies come to pass. Volunteers warned about possible side effects frequently develop them, even if they have been taking inert sugar pills. In 2005, 120 Italian men who were being treated for enlargement of the prostate gland were given a drug called finasteride. One group was told that the drug could cause sexual problems, although this was uncommon, while the other group was not. After a year, forty-four percent of those in the first group complained of erectile problems and decreased libido, compared with fifteen percent in the second. Each year, millions of people around the world stop taking statins, which reduce cholesterol levels, because of side effects that include fatigue, muscle aches, joint pain and nausea. In 2020, a study of patients who had given up statins found that they also complained of ninety percent of their side effects when given a placebo. For a fact of life, the nocebo effect is hard to study. Most researchers don’t like to induce suffering, even if they are allowed to. The response occurs for the most part at the edges of things, an anomaly recognized only after the fact, once more pleasing theories have been tried and failed.

It takes a certain kind of doctor to test the nocebo directly. In the summer of 1885, a thirty-two-year-old woman, “very stout, well-nourished but physically weak,” was referred to Dr. John Noland MacKenzie, a surgeon in Baltimore, with crippling hay fever and asthma. The woman was confined to her bed for weeks every summer and autumn. If a hay-cart passed her in the street, she would suffer a paroxysm. She could not touch a peach. Ordinary medicine provided no relief. Cold weather and trips to the seaside were somewhat beneficial. Cocaine relieved her symptoms for half an hour at the most, “leaving her, as a rule, worse off than she was before its application.”

MacKenzie prepared a prescription of his own devising. After two weeks, he wrote, the woman felt much better. After a month, MacKenzie invited the patient to his consulting room, where he had hidden an artificial rose—“a perfect counterfeit of the original”—behind a screen. MacKenzie had wiped every petal before she arrived, to make sure it was clean. He checked that the woman was well and then sat down in front of her with the rose in his hand. After a minute, she began to sneeze. Within five minutes, her nose was clogged and inflamed. “The feeling of oppression in her chest began, with slight embarrassment of respiration.” Breathing became a struggle. “As I considered the result of the experiment sufficiently satisfactory, I removed the rose and placed it in a distant part of the room,” MacKenzie wrote. When he told the woman that the flower wasn’t real, she inspected it leaf by leaf, in disbelief, her nose streaming.

In 1968, a team of psychiatrists in Brooklyn asked forty asthma sufferers to help them with a study of air pollutants. Almost half experienced a tightening of their airways when they inhaled a harmless vapor of saline solution. Twelve had full-blown asthma attacks. The nocebo effect can stop good medicine from working. When researchers gave migraine sufferers rizatriptan, a powerful migraine medication, but said it was a placebo, it turned out to be half as effective. For about half an hour, patients with Parkinson’s disease who have electrodes implanted in their brains to help smooth their movements will do better or worse at motor tasks depending on whether they believe their electrodes are working, rather than whether they actually are. During a placebo trial described in 2006, a twenty-six-year-old man swallowed twenty-nine inert capsules, thinking they were antidepressants, in an apparent suicide attempt. His blood pressure collapsed and he was taken to the hospital, where the symptoms abated when he was told what he had taken.

The nocebo effect is at least partly contagious. If you see someone suffering pain or entering an altered state during an experiment, you are much more likely to experience the same thing when it is your turn. The social force of the nocebo effect means that it can give rise to peculiar, localized conditions. In 2007, the maker of Eltroxin, a thyroid-replacement drug distributed in New Zealand, moved its manufacture from Canada to Germany. The active ingredients in the drug remained the same, but the new pills looked different. They were larger; some were off-white, rather than yellow. After the media reported that the new Eltroxin was cheaper to make, reports of side effects among New Zealanders rose by a factor of two thousand.

Beliefs do not become weaker because they are shared. Between 1977 and 1982, more than fifty Hmong refugees in the U.S., who came primarily from Laos, died from sudden nocturnal death syndrome. Their hearts stopped in the night. The community generally interpreted these deaths as the consequence of lethal nightmares, known as dab tsog. People became afraid to go to bed. “You can’t help but behave in a way that is the result of having been immersed since birth in a certain set of attitudes and thoughts,” recalled Shelley Adler, the director of the Osher Center at the University of California, San Francisco, who interviewed hundreds of Hmong people about the deaths. Postmortems revealed that some of the victims suffered from abnormal heart rhythms, which could have been exacerbated by the stress of immigration and the fear of an evil spirit crushing their chest in the night.

--  Sam Knight, The Premonitions Bureau 

[philsmeatylegss]

Dude I’m ngl I think implying that “real autism” = violence and putting others at risk is absolutely a weird thing to say

But please correct me if I’ve interpreted what you said wrong!!

I’m going to scream because I wrote such a long ass reply to this that tumblr decided to delete right as I was about to finish it. I’m attempting to rewrite everything I said.

Just as I did with the last anon, I’m starting this with a TLDR because I will probably go on a weird rant that misses the point:

TLDR: There is no such thing as “real autism” and it’s on me for using that kind of phrasing. What I meant when I said real autism is defining autism by every single part of the disorder, not just the cute ones. And you’re right. It’s uncomfortable to think about the fact that many lower function autistic people often have self injurious or violent outbursts or stims because we like to think of autism in the context of the relatable, cute symptoms. Autism is a spectrum and it is always wrong to say all autistic people ____. What I’m trying to get across is that Autism has been watered down to cover up the unsavory symptoms autistic people, mainly lower functioning autistic people, suffer with every single day.

My mom works with teenage and young adult who are severely autistic. One has to wear a diaper because he can’t use the bathroom or alert people in time to help him. She’s struggling with a kid who needs constant supervision from multiple people because all he does is hit his head. It’s not uncommon for genitalia to be exposed and having to put it back in its place. There’s days where my mom has to listen to one of her kids scream the same phrase over and over for hours. Their curriculum? Right now one of their lessons is knowing to put away your pencil when class is finished. One only communicates by typing on an IPad.

It’s not uncommon for these grown individuals to get violent. It’s not uncommon to need three adults to restrain one of her kids in a way that prevents him from hurting himself and the other kids. My mom got time off after she was punched.

That’s uncomfortable. It’s weird. When you think autistic, that’s not what you want to think about. You want to think about cute tiktoks of autistic children happy stimming when meeting their favorite Disney characters. You want to think of them smiling and complimenting their loved ones. You want to think of the quirky things they say. Because that’s what autism has become.

Obviously Autism is a spectrum and this is an example of those on the lower side. But even when we’re shown lower functioning autistic children, we aren’t showed these sides. Because it’s weird. It’s uncomfortable. It’s sad.

No one wants to think about how most of those kids will never live alone. Never have a job, fall in love, and have kids. You don’t want to think of that. But that’s the fucking reality.

That’s what I mean when I used the term “real autism.” I meant defining autism for what it really is rather than the sugar coated reality it’s become for social media views. That’s why we have it trending and people thinking they know better than doctors. They aren’t shown the entire disorder because it’s uncomfortable.

To get back to the original ask, I apologize as that is not at all the message I wanted to send and I can obviously see how you would come to that conclusion. I’m more aiming to vent my frustration with how watered down and sugar coated the disorder has become to now allow it become a completely different thing than it once was. And to silence those who have daily experience their whole life with autistic individuals is shitty.

You’re completely correct anon. It’s really weird to think autism and then associate it with violence. No one wants to think that the image of what autism has been portrayed as is completely wrong. That these infantilized individuals suffer from experiencing upsetting symptoms. So we ignore it. And now we face the consequences of ignoring it.

Once again, thank you for asking. I’m glad I can clarify what I actually meant and it’s still totally okay to disagree with me. This is all my opinion and I appreciate being able to have civil conversations on the internet which is not common.

[vazelbeak]

Do you think theres anything that would make Loona less insufferable?

I wouldn't quite consider Loona as harsh as insufferable, but I do see her as very inconsistent and that itself grating. The thing is Loona reads like an apathetic teenager, always on her phone and not caring about the things going on around her. She dresses in a goth style, she has no qualms being mean, has an overprotective dad, and has no friends. The thing however that makes this not work as well is Loona isn't a teenager, shes an adult and this makes her character come off differently.

It's harder to understand as a teenager, but looking back as an adult (im 23 as i write this) many habits we have in our teenage years are very much products of how we are in this "too old to be a child too young to be an adult" stage. Kids are often on their phones because they can't go anywhere to socialize, they're starting to see how unfair the world is and either bleeding hearts or cruel to others because it gives them some semblance of the power and agency they wish they had, they're often apathetic to outside conflicts because they're figuring themselves out. Teenage years are when you go through a lot of changes. As much as people say teenagers are selfish, its not unusual or uncommon for them to seek a sense of identity amongst their peers and outside of their parents. And of course many teens struggle to have friends, highschool is a time people are nitpicked for not liking popular shows, being on popular social media sites, playing popular games. You can be ostracized sheerly for just not sharing those interests. Its why some teens seek identity through fandom. And that's not to talk down about them but when you want to find friends quick you'll probably wear your MHA shirt to find people who also like it.

But Loona is an adult and that means she's not implied or shown to be under the same conditions that those traits are often a product of that we can sympathize with as readily. She's on her phone all the time, but we're not shown any solid indication of what she does posting stuff if she doesn't have friends and what she gets out of it. Does she use it as a creative outlet for things like art? Is she an influencer of some kind and advertising I.M.P? Then there's her apathy where as an adult unless she's having some kind of midlife crisis in her early 20's she reads as just inconsiderate because we're presented with nothing else going on that's taking priority for her to care about outside of Blitzø, Millie, and Moxxie's shenanigans. She doesn't have a life outside of them or specifically Blitzø to take priority.(and she should!)

Then there's her attitude towards others. The fatphobia aside because we're all aware of that, while you might be inclined to argue she says this to Moxxie to feel better about herself or feel she has more power over him, we're not presented anything that suggests this. Loona is an adult who Blitzø provides a home and job for. She hasnt been shown to have much im the way of responsibility outside of helping Blitzo as a receptionist and that in itself was at most vaguely touched with by implying Loona scares away clients and with an apartment so small it seems like that could teeter them on homelessness, but that itself would be a reach to make with what we have.

And tying into that Loona's lack of friends doesn't read the same as it would as a teenager. As teens you can be ostracized over not liking things that are popular, but adulthood is when those become endearing traits people love or just interesting. And often by adulthood if you somehow lack a friend it starts to become a matter of why? And that's not to say Loona MUST be hard to be friends with by any means. What I'm saying is they presented that she doesn't have any friends and should be showing is why. But all we see is her being mean to her father and his employees. The thing is mean is a personality trait, but it is not a personality. Is she expected to work for so long she never has time to go out? Does she lash out because she's so isolated the smallest things set her off because it's all she has?

I think overall we never get to see her as a person. She's Blitzø's daughter. The way her flashback was also through his eyes and our closest moment to Loona having a chance to stand on her own is propping up Blitzø and Stolas. She needs to have hobbies, and motivations that we see drive her. The fact we never see her interact alone with Stolas makes her whole speech about their dads trying to feel hollow and especially when she barely seems to get along with Blitzo. It would sooner make sense if she saw Stolas freaking out over Octavia being missing and she just said that he was panicking or even took video of him intending to post it later to sinstagram, but now despite Moxxie saying it wasn't funny its actually important because Octavia wouldn't have believed her otherwise. We should know more about Loona because she's intended to be a main character, we're already at season 2, and because maybe if Viv focused more on the entirety of her main cast she could implement some build up to these emotional moments and actually allow them to carry weight.

[ptrckjcne]

👻👓💡💌

ask box -> fanfic writer asks

👓 -> what helps you focus when you write? i have a few things that helps me focus! i usually write best in the mornings, after my morning swim/run, because that's when my head is at its clearest. however when i sit down and write, i can like, write fine on my own, but if i'm really inspired and want to write something, i'll crack my knuckles and put on the soundtrack to star wars (i don't know what happens, or why it happens, but that soundtrack's got something on me writing wise)

💡 -> how many wips do you currently have? right now, i've got seven wips; four multi-chapters and three one shots.

💌 -> is there a favourite trope you like to write? i mean, sharing a bed/one bed only. those two could hit me with a truck, and i'd say thanks. and then there's fake dating, absolutely love that. and there's probably more, but these kinda, stick out.

👻 -> what's your wildest headcanon? yikes, wildest? huh. i don't know if they can classify as wild, but i've got a couple i can share, so uhm, enjoy?

-> steve and danny help each other out, as friends or boyfriends, i don't know, that's up to them to figure out i guess. but, it's not uncommon for them to stumble into a bathroom stall, or yknow, whatever "private" space they find and just help each other relieve some tension like the good bros they are. thing is, it kinda gets outta hand, and they get stopped for public indecency not once, not twice, but three times. and it's not like you wanna get a rookie from the hpd looking into the car where you've got your best bro's dick in your hand, but shit and steve threatens to turn this kid in if he mentions their names, flashes him their badges, and adds that if there's anything in the report that can identify them, his career's over.

and it's not because steve's an douchebag, but he's got this big, tough-guy navy seal image to protect, and he's not about to give rachel fodder if she decides to drag danny to court over the kids (because imagine the field day they'd have if it turned up in a police report that "lieutenant commander steven j. mcgarrett and detective sergeant daniel d. williams have been fined for public indecency")

sometime after the third time they've been pulled over, duke corners steve when he's at the precinct, and he asks if steve knows about these very anonymous reports, and steve's like ??? me no i don't know anything, and duke just sighs, like a disappointed dad, and goes "there are no names, or any kind of way i can identify the people, but when i've asked the three reporting officers they say the people flashed sparkly badges, and that was what they could tell me – so can you and detective williams please keep it in your pants while in your cars?" (is this a headcanon or could this very well be a "they started off as good bros getting each other off now they're fucking and oh shit they're dating aren't they" kind of fic)

-> this one actually goes a little bit along to the possible grace-plot of your au to the au, but it's been brewing now for a while. anywho, danny and rachel really wanted kids, but sometimes two people just really struggle conceiving. moving further, there's actually two options to this headcanon:

danny and rachel have a talk, and decide they want to get checked out, and they find out the reason for their struggles, and sit down and have a talk; it's perfectly fine for rachel to get pregnant and carry a child, though it might not be possible for her to get pregnant with danny. so, they start looking at sperm donors.

enter steven, who was in town with his navy bros, who went "ooh i bet you're too much of a wimp to donate your sperm" and who is steve to back down from a challenge? so he donates his sperm, completely oblivious to the fact that his sperm is what creates danny's kid. danny doesn't actually know anything personal about steve from the file, other than the basic description, but sometime later, like way later, in hawaii later, they do a dna test just for fun and it turns out a perfect match between steve and grace and they're like oh

or rachel goes off one night after having argued with danny, possibly about his work? idk. anyway, she goes off to this bar, a shitty bar really, gets blackout drunk, gets one off quick and dirty in the bathroom of bar with another blackout drunk bar-guest (this stupidly hunk navy seal guy), gets pregnant and panicks, and just tells danny it's his. when the kid pops out and has brown eyes and brown hair, they just shrug it off with it being rachel's genetics taking the override on this one.

[erme-aeterna-arts]

Your characters are cool! I love how you pair Mohre with astarion, so cute! Correct me if I'm wrong but ur durge (even though I'm not sure if they resist or not) gave off some motherly/very caring vibes when I saw ur art. What's ur opinion of dadstarion?? <3

ahh thank you so much!! and for the question as well <3

i wouldn't describe mohre's affection for astarion as motherly, but astarion is definitely very precious to them, and that's what i'm always trying to portray. i think caring so much for someone is very new to mohre, because pre-tadpole they barely had a space for their own identity, let alone anyone other than bhaal in their life. and another thing is that they fear themselves and their own emotions a lot, it's something they struggle with in-game most obviously because of the urge, but even after denying bhaal they still remember that any strong feelings they have bring on suffering and disaster directly or not. mohre also worries about not overwhelming astarion with these intense feelings, because they're just beginning to be more in touch with themselves, would they know how much is too much? so they're always torn between the terrified voice in their head begging to hold back and the need to express all the love and adoration they have for astarion. they do trust astarion to tell them if something's wrong, they trust him to keep them from hurting him, and a huge part of why mohre fell so hard for him is that he believed they wouldn't. they're so surprised by being in love and being able to show it, but it's still their journey for post-game, to learn to also trust themselves to do so, if that makes sense.

as for dadstarion, i don't really see mohre or astarion as parents tbh. they both have pretty messed up experiences with "family", their lifestyle (adventuring) doesn't really provide opportunity for raising kids, and getting their own kids would also mean passing their respective curses onto them. the latter would be especially acute for mohre, since it's likely the child would be born with the urge despite mohre's resisting it (if you let sarevok live and resist bhaal, he sends a letter to the withers party, from which it's pretty clear it would happen), and they wouldn't accept the risk of handing a child to bhaal. i also just think astarion and mohre's plan for post-game adventures is to see the world, learn of all the things they were denied, what they might enjoy, parenthood isn't really there.

however, given astarion's immortality and mohre's potential jergal-sponsored one, i can imagine them ending up with some child they rescued on their hands during one of their adventures. i think it would be a temporary situation, but that's as close as it would get to dadstarion. being exposed to the cruelty of the world and being helpless to stop it and having done nothing to deserve is what being a child is about, and that's why mohre and astarion tend to help those kids they meet, why they make an effort to be nice to them, teach them to lie and defend themselves. but for astarion this protectiveness is mixed with guilt over the gur children, he aways knows that even while he's helping at the moment he's been that threat before, the guilt is always there. so he would prefer to avoid the reminder altogether. mohre, on the other hand, is vaguely aware that they didn't discriminate in their kills during their time as the chosen, so the desire to keep themselves away rears its head once in a while, but in this case what's more prominent is that they just don't know what to do with kids. they know their experiences are uncommon, they know these are not something to base your interactions with kids on, so it's just kind of awkward for them most of the time. they're a bard, they know how to seem delightful, but not how to actually mean that. so mohre and astarion would just hand each other the duty of dealing with the child (to their mutual bafflement, "do you think i know how to do this?") and try their best, and the child in question would think them both kind of weird (and mohre more so) but funny and safe.

[senseicowpoke]

October 18, 2023

TW: Suicide

As I sit here in front of my computer, I can't help but feel the weight of the anniversary that looms over me. It's been fourteen years since my best friend took her own life and the ache in my heart is still as raw as it was on that day. Being from a small town like ours, mental health was often swept under the rug, and anyone struggling with it was immediately labeled as "crazy." But I'm here to tell you that mental health is just as important as physical health and should be treated as such.

Our town may be small, but the effects of mental health issues are still prevalent. It isn't uncommon to hear whispers and rumors about someone that is struggling, and it's even harder for them to seek out help without fear of judgment or ostracization. As such, my best friend kept her struggles hidden, and we never knew the depth of her pain until it was too late. Mental health is not something that should be taken lightly. Just like how we go to a doctor for a physical ailment, we need to seek out professional help for our mental health as well. It's important to know that having a mental health issue does not make you weak or less of a person. It's a medical issue, and it needs to be treated with the same care and attention as any physical ailment.

It's been years since that fateful day, yet it still feels like yesterday. I remember finding her and feeling like everything around me was a blur. The image of her lifeless body is etched into my mind, and I can't seem to shake it off. Her death sent me spiraling down a road of pain and grief that I wish no one ever had to go through.

But life has a funny way of throwing curveballs at you. It seems like every time I think I'm starting to heal, something else happens. The Grim Reaper has come knocking at my door one too many times, and it's starting to feel like I'm cursed. I've lost friends and relatives, and the pain never truly goes away.

It's hard to explain to people who haven't been through it, but being the one who finds a loved one's body is a trauma that never goes away. It's a memory that replays in my mind every time I close my eyes. And yet, it's something that I've had to deal with more than once. Since my friend's passing, I've lost other friends and family members, each one a tragedy in its own right. But it's my nana's death that hit me the hardest. She was one of my biggest supporters in the world and losing her felt like losing a part of myself.

My Nana was my rock through it all - the one person who never judged me or made me feel like I had to be strong all the time. There's something that she told me, "You can't expect a broken clock to still tell time. It's okay to not be okay." And she was right. Time doesn't always heal all wounds. Sometimes, we just have to learn to live with the pain. It's been a few years since she passed, and I'd like to say that time heals all wounds, but that's just not true. The pain doesn't go away, it just becomes more bearable. There are still days when I pick up the phone to call her, forgetting for a moment that she's gone. And it hurts all over again when I remember.

One of the hardest parts of dealing with all of this is trying to talk about it. People always mean well when they ask about my friend's suicide or the other deaths I've experienced, but I dread those conversations. I don't want to relive the pain, and I definitely don't want to be known as that person who's been through so much loss.

But through all of this loss, one thing has become abundantly clear to me: kindness is key. We never know what someone else is going through, and a little bit of kindness can go a long way. One of my old coworkers used to say, "You never know what day you'll need someone, so be nice to everyone." It's a sentiment that I try to live by, because it's true. We're all fighting battles that no one else can see, and a little bit of kindness goes a long way in making those battles a little easier to bear.

So, if you're still here, then thank you for reading. And if there's one thing that I hope that you take away from my ramblings today, it's this: be kind to everyone you meet. You never know what struggles they're facing or what demons they're fighting. And if you're one of the people who has lost someone, know that you're not alone. You'll may never fully heal from the pain, but you'll learn how to live with it. I wish I had the answers, but in the meantime, remember to be kind to yourself as well. You deserve it.

[maddmuses]

Slytherin!Hermione

“Are you sure that’s a real spell? Well, it’s not very good, is it?”

Sauce: Here

Cunning, determination, and resourcefulness, with an ambition to learn as much about magic as possible. A girl who might have one day become Minister for Magic certainly exemplified the qualities that Slytherin house would desire.

With few biases, even from what she'd read, entering into Hogwarts, Hermione would consider the options laid out before her. Though books and learning could certainly be important, there was no way that just being studious on its own would yield a great result. The history of witches and wizards told her that many were determined and resourceful as well, regardless of their house, and one with prestige such as having Merlin has a member truly couldn't be a bad choice!

Though Hermione's difficulty making friends is not alleviated in this house, struggling to connect with her peers, unless it accompanies an AU in which Harry is also sorted into Slytherin, and not really making friends until towards the end of the year, even following the troll incident.

Hermione's loyalty and care for Harry and Ron would be ultimately proven as she helped them reach the Philosopher's/Sorceror's Stone, and would stay behind, allowing Harry to go on without her, the following years would lack much change aside from small changes and difficulties coordinating plans because of the distance of their dormitories.

Even among Slytherin house, Hermione would face significant bigotry and maligning, particularly in her first few years, for her blood status. Blood supremacists aren't likely to be kind based on fraternity, as it wasn't uncommon for half-blooded students to lie about their blood status in order to avoid harassment, something that Hermione is flagrantly unwilling to lie about or downplay. Accordingly, her confrontational relationship with blood supremacists, such as Draco's clique, and the children of any Death Eater who holds their parent's opinions, is unchanged, if not more frequent. However, those whose bullying may have been based on other factors, particularly house membership, may have been relieved, if not outright gone. Particularly, Hermione would have a less confrontational relationship with Professor Snape, though like Ron and Harry, she would not ultimately trust him as much as other professors.

[fff777]

I saw this writing tag game. I wasn't tagged but it looked fun :3

What is your absolute all-time favourite idea you’ve ever had?

I really think it might be my current fic, the Laytao historical AU. In its current form, I don't think it's as polished as most of my other fics, but I am still quite attached to the original idea that this fic came from. The fic in its current form is extremely different from what I had initially hoped to write. But all variations of it are equally dear to me.

Maybe it's because this idea was combined with a setting that I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about and it gave me a lot of ideas about it.

What is your favourite part of being a writer? Which parts could you take or leave?

I guess my favourite part is just being able to articulate an idea. I like sharing things I like. I also find that writing fic helps me organize and contextualize my thoughts about things, whether it's about the ship or the setting or other themes in the fic.

My least favourite part...basically the actual writing lmao. To be honest, I don't really consider myself a writer. I struggle to write and I don't actually find it fun the way I find my other hobbies fun. I also have a funky relationship with words that I won't get into here, but words don't really touch me the way I think it touches other people and so it makes it difficult for me to convey things without cringing sometimes.

What is your greatest motivation to write/create?

My biggest motivation for writing is to just realize my ideas. Words are magical in that you can bring basically anything to life and it's kind of fun that I can conceive anything in the world and just. Write it lol.

What is your favourite story you’ve written to completion? Link it if you’d like and can!

I don't know if this is recency bias but I am rather pleased with most of my most recent works. What a copout answer lmao. But I like them for different reasons.

Sulay cambunnies: I liked this because it kind of made me feel braver about writing the kind of porn that I enjoyed.

Seho historical AU: I liked this fic for a lot of reasons. It was my first long fic and taught me a lot about writing. I liked that it was a big happy ending fic. I was aiming for cute and fluffy and from the comments I was proud that I was able to convey that in a historical setting where the expressions of love can be quite different.

Kaixing SDOC: I liked this fic because it's as close to canon timeline fic as I've ever written lol. I just never thought I could write anything realistic and this fic kind of helped me realize how I can do that.

Laytao historical AU: Oh man. I already mentioned that I really love the idea that this fic is attached to and that is a huge reason of why I love this a lot, as imperfect as it is. I put a lot of thought into the trajectory of the story and while I still don't think it's perfect in its final form, I'm still thankful to this fic for giving me a vehicle to explore those themes.

What is your favourite out-of-the-box quote?

I don't really have any? But I did share this recently with a friend.

It's from a not-yet posted chapter of the Laytao historical AU fic.

"It was bitter, as it always was. But bitterness was never a problem. Yixing could always tolerate it. Good things must always be suffered through."

Which of your characters would you say has the most controversial mindset? Why do you say so and how do you personally feel about their ideals?

Probably Yixing in the Laytao historical AU fic. He's very patriotic and lawful, unflinchingly so. In today's political climate, that is not a popular attitude. This kind of character is not at all uncommon to the genre, and to the general culture, as folk heroes that act like this are revered. I do think that Yixing has a personality that is somewhat like this. But I don't know him, only the side of him that is presented to the world.

Personally, this way of thinking is not for me. But I think it's not so uncommon to come across people like this in the world.

If you, when you first started writing, met you now, what would younger you think?

I think I'd be a little awed that I managed to write these more ambitious pieces. I read fic for a long time before ever trying my hand at it.

Tagging whoever wants to do this!!!!!

[dailyaudiobible]

12/13/2022 DAB Transcript

Obadiah 1:1-21, Revelation 4:1-11, Psalm 132:1-18, Proverbs 29:24-25

Today is the 13th day of December, welcome to the Daily Audio Bible. I'm Brian, it's wonderful to be here with you today, as we gather around the Global Campfire and do what we do every day, take the next step forward together. Our next step forward leads us to into, yet again, new territory in the Old Testament. We have reached our final destination in the New Testament; we are working our way through the book of Revelation. And so, that's the last book in the New Testament, so that will carry us to the end of the year. And incidentally, since we have been putting some of the additional discussion about the book of Revelation at the end of the programs from last few days. Just letting you know, there won't be one of those today at the end up to the prayers; there won’t be one of those tomorrow, after the prayers but then we’ll pick back up in a couple of days. But that's getting ahead of ourselves; that's in the New Testament, but we have quite a bit a ground to cover in the Old Testament.

Introduction to the Book of Obadiah:

And today we will read the shortest book in the Old Testament in its entirety. So, a whole Old Testament book today, one of the minor prophets known as Obadiah. And Obadiah identifies himself as the author in the text. Although almost nothing is known about who Obadiah was. The name Obadiah means servant of Yahweh. But that wasn't an uncommon name so, dating the prophecy specifically becomes difficult. A general consensus is that Obadiah probably was a contemporary with Jeremiah and that his prophetic works used Babylon's destruction of Jerusalem as its context. And if that's correct then Obadiah would be dated somewhere to the late 500s BC. This shortest book in the Old Testament has 21 verses and it would, it uses those 21 verses to deal with a very, very big family issue and discusses the destruction of the Edomites. And we might be like really, the destruction of the Edomites, family issue, Obadiah, what's this doing, like what, how does this work for us? If we remember back when we were moving our way through the book of Genesis, way back when our journey began. We certainly remember that we met a guy named Abraham, we’ve talk about Abraham since we met him. He appears all over the Bible. We remember that he had a son of promise, his name was Jacob, but he also had a son with Hagar, actually the son he had with Hagar was his firstborn son, his name was Esau. If we will remember our story, Jacob's name eventually gets changed and his name is changed to Israel and it's his children that become the tribes of Israel. They are the children of Israel. And we've been following their story throughout the entire Bible, but Esau. He had a family too and his family flourished and became a people as well and they became known as the Edomites. And now let's remember the fact that through the story of Joseph, we were told how the children of Israel came to Egypt and then we read of Egyptian slavery and then we met Moses and we saw the plagues upon Egypt as God set his people free. And they came into the wilderness and as they wandered in the wilderness, they had a struggle. They were kind of trapped, they needed to get places. But in order to get places they would need to move through other people's land. And if we’ll remember, that was a hard sell and it was a hard sell to the Edomites, who were their brothers. The Edomites wouldn't let their relatives pass through their land as they were trying to get to their own land. And then during other points in Israel's history, there was attack and war and the Edomites watched. They stood by and watched; they did not help their family. But it wasn't just their silence or their passivity, the Edomites were willing to pillage their own family, while they were suffering. And God is not pleased about it. And that's what we’ll find out very clearly as we read the book of Obadiah because Obadiah announces the total destruction of Edom. And again, we might be okay that is cool, that's good. Now I understand the story and what we’re about to read, but how is that like the Edomites so long ago. What is that got to do with me? Actually, quite a bit. We are believers, we are followers of Jesus. We have been grafted into God's family, we are family with each other, those of us who follow Christ. And it is too often five minutes on social media will show you this is true; it is too often that we are at war with each other, and we are brothers and sisters or we’re silent and passive as we watch our brothers and sisters get destroyed or suffer. And they may be of a different stripe than we are, and we may think that's what they deserve, that's, they're reaping what they have sown. Obadiah rejects that idea and Obadiah shows us that God does not favor arrogance. And so, there's plenty for us to consider there. And so, with that, let's dive in and begin and complete the book of Obadiah.

Prayer:

Father, we thank You for Your word, we thank You for the territory that we were able to move into and through today in the book of Obadiah, reminding us that we’re supposed to be taking care of each other. That the restoration of all things, the putting back together and the restoration of shalom, requires our participation in taking care of each other. Help us to remember that it is a never-ending battle with ourselves, the way that we react to things and the way that we react to one another. And the battles that…that we wage with each other, so that we can be dominant, or so that we can be right, when You are right, and You are true. And You have instructed us that we must care for one another. And so, we thank You for that. There's so much there for us to contemplate, and we invite Your Holy Spirit, as we consider it. And then, we read in the book of Revelation prayers and worship. And we too, along with those casting their crowns before You, declare worthy are You our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power, for You created all things and by Your will they existed and were created. Which means that by Your will, we exist and were created. And we glorify Your name. There is none above You. There is none beneath You. There is none beside You. There are none like You. You are God and You alone and our hearts reach and long for You, saying, holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come. So, Holy Spirit, flood us with an awareness of Your presence in our lives, as we pour our hearts out in worship to You today. We pray in the name of Jesus. Amen.

Revelation Song by Jill Parr

[mgmoments]

Growing Into Your Own

Diavolo | Obey Me!

Muscle growth, muscle worship, macro

Warning, NSFW

Your time spent with Diavolo was always some of your favorite. When you first arrived, little did you realize that the Lord of the Devildom would quickly become not only one of your closest friends, but even something a little more.

It wasn't uncommon for Diavolo to summon you to his opulent home for coffee, tea, or simply to spend the evening talking with you. Barbatos never seemed to mind the extra company, likely because it was good for the Master of the house to have someone else to talk to. That, and you were fairly good about cleaning up after yourself.

Today was no different. Diavolo had summoned you to his office to chat while he finished paperwork. Something seemed slightly off, however. You were never really one to notice the smaller details, but you couldn't help but take note at every time Diavolo tugged at his collar or attempted to pull his sleeves down.

"Dia, is something wrong? You've been tugging at your suit a ton since I got here," you asked, curious. He simply smiled.

"Ah, no no. Nothing's wrong. It's just...a touch tight. I suppose Barbatos must have shrunk it in the wash!"

"I assure you, I did not such thing Master Diavolo," Barbatos stated, entering the room to refill Diavolo's tea. "There is...another matter of concern. Perhaps our guest should depart so we might discuss this matter privately?"

Diavolo seemed ready to protest, but a sharp glance from Barbatos quieted him before he had the chance. He sighed. "I suppose it is getting late. I'll see you again tomorrow, yes? We can have one of those 'slumber parties' you said humans like to have!"

You laughed, but Diavolo simply beamed his bright smile. With no reason to protest, you gathered your things and headed back to the House of Lamentation. You couldn't help but wonder what exactly the two needed to discuss, however. Even more confusing is how it could possibly be related to Diavolo's clothing being tight.

"I'll be Barbatos just didn't wanna admit he messed up in front of ya," Mammon said at dinner that night. "Dude's obsessed with perfection, he just didn't want ya to think he was anythin' less than perfect."

Mammon squealed as Lucifer smacked him in the back of the head with a rolled up paper.

"There is a good enough reason why they needed to discuss matters without a human present, Mammon. It has little to do with perfection. It simply is not their business, or yours for that matter."

"Then you know what they're talking about?" You asked, knowing that Lucifer wouldn't tell you even if he did know. The frown that settled on his face was answer enough.

"Unfortunately," he replied, "Whatever this issue is it is one they've decided does not concern me. It is worth stating that Diavolo has been complaining about his clothing for some time now, at least a week. I'm surprised that it just now became an actual issue. Regardless, we all need to keep our noses out of royal Devildom business. Am I understood?"

You and all the brothers gave a quick nod. Lucifer smiled, and dinner continued. Despite everything, you couldn't shove the issue out of your head. In a way it was almost exciting to think about all the possibilities. Your mind raced with theories as you drifted off to sleep.

You returned to Diavolo's castle later the next day, only to be greeted by the towering demon dressed in a dragon onesie.

"What do you think?" he asked, turning around to show off the fine details, "I heard that humans dress in fun nightwear for events such as these, so I had Barbatos make this special. Is it nice?"

"I love it, Dia," you said with a smile, laughing at Diavolo's antics, "It suits you. Though, I see you more as a teddy bear than a dragon myself."

Diavolo smiled, and wrapped you in a massive hug.

Demons, on average, were already larger than humans. Even the relatively short Mammon and Asmodeus were still both slightly taller than you. Large demons like Beel and Diavolo, however, towered over you. You always considered yourself lucky that they were so kind, because you could only wonder how things would be if these two titans decided to use their size against you.

Diavolo's strong hand enveloped your own as he led you to his home theater like am excited child. He gleefully informed you of all the movies and snacks he had planned for the two of you as you both settled down into massive beanbags. Your seat didn't last long, however, as you were soon sitting comfortably in Diavolo's lap with his arms wrapped around you.

You both sat in quiet comfort watching some cheesy romcom when you felt something throb beneath you. You were taken aback- Diavolo wasn't the type to be...like that. Then you felt it again, realizing that Diavolo's legs appeared to be tensing up. Looking up to him, you noticed him wincing slightly. A small groan escaped his lips.

"Dia...? Everything ok?"

"Y-yeah. I...I think my legs are asleep is all. Let me just...urgh....stand up."

You rose from Diavolo's lap as he rose to unsteady legs. You couldn't help but feel like he looked slightly larger than before. It was subtle, but it was almost as if his onesie had begun to cling to him where it had once hung off of him.

Diavolo groaned again and nearly stumbled over as Barbatos entered the room with a new tray of food. Barbatos quickly placed the tray down and rushed to his master's side to hold him up.

"Is Dia ok, Barbatos? He seems out of it."

"The Master has simply been overworking himself recently, that's all. Exhaustion is beginning to get to him."

"No, Barbatos," Diavolo groaned, "It's finally coming, I just can't hold it back any longer. We need to be honest with them. They'll find out soon enough anyway."

"..Very well," Barbatos said, turning towards you. Diavolo sat back down as Barbatos began to speak.

"Lord Diavolo, as you are well aware, is lord of the Devildom. It is more than a title. You may consider it...something like a race. He is unlike the other demons you've met here. He is far more powerful, not simply because of his station but because he is naturally more inclined towards power. Part of his natural aging involves what you humans could almost consider a second puberty, a period of time when he finally fully matures and can be considered ready to take the crown of the Devildom for his own."

"What does...what does that actually involve?" you asked, watching Diavolo breathe heavily in his seat.

"You may have noticed the young Master tugging at his clothing recently. It's been a slow process thus far, but part of this evolution involves Lord Diavolo increasing drastically in physical size. This is no longer common knowledge, but Lord Diavolo's father was large enough to completely fill this room. Lord Diavolo will likely be that size when this process is completed, and based on what we are currently seeing, the process will be completed tonight."

"Wait, hold on! You're saying Dia is gonna completely fill this room tonight? Sure he's big, but he's nowhere close to being that big."

"It will cease being a slow process soon enough. Lord Diavolo is entering the final stage, and it will all happen relatively quickly. I recommend-"

Before Barbatos could finish, Diavolo let out a large groan. Both you and Barbatos' eyes snapped towards the demon prince as his entire body began to tremble and pulsate. The sound of tearing fabric began to fill the room as Diavolo's body began to push outwards in all directions. The onesie struggled to hold on as Diavolo's body began to tear through it, each muscle increasing in size and thickness. His feet were first to break free, tearing away Diavolo's slippers with his toes curling in seeming pain. His arms and legs followed, his swelling biceps and thighs tearing through the cloth like it was merely tissue paper. As each second passed, Diavolo's body grew larger and large with more and more muscle packing onto his steadily taller frame. His groans slowly became moans. The process was clearly no longer painful.

Sure enough, Diavolo's cock broke free of his pants and flopped about in front of him, throbbing half-erect. He breathed heavily as pre began to drip from the tip, the cock continuing to grow with his body. You felt your cheeks grow hot, embarrassed to watch the obscene display but finding yourself aroused by the process.

"L-love," Diavolo panted, his horns and wings erupting from his head and back, "p...please..."

You looked to Barbatos who was nowhere to be seen. With no one to tell you otherwise, you climbed Diavolo's powerful thighs and placed yourself atop his expanding lap. You wrapped your own legs around his cock, the entire thing reaching up to your chin, and began to stroke it gently with both hands. You carefully ran both hands over the tanned skin, feeling every muscle and tendon in the cock with care before steadily picking up the pace. The cock stood at attention, and Diavolo's entire body shuddered in response. Without thinking you placed your mouth around the tip as best as you could, and began licking. Diavolo moaned in ecstasy as the cock throbbed with newfound power in your mouth. You felt the pressure within slowly build until it erupted outwards. Unable to remove your head in time, a large amout of Diavolo's seed found its way into your mouth before you were thrown backwards from the force of the eruption. The cock continued to let loose powerful stream after stream of semen until the room was nearly completely covered in it. When the stream finally abated, you felt the massive body beneath you begin to relax.

You, however, were not finished. You rose from the cock and began to admire the rest of Diavolo's newly massive body. You ran each hand over his powerful new muscles, tracing every curve and line and taking the time to appreciate every individual muscle. Diavolo's body shuddered again as you reached his chest and rubbed each of nipples. A small moan escaped his lips. Eventually he seemed satisfied with your worship, and cupped you in a massive hand. Next thing you knew, you were sitting on his palm in front of his movie screen sized face, his golden eyes looking at you with adoration.

"Are you ok, my little love? I hope this all didn't come as too much of a shock to you."

You simply smiled, and brought your lips to his. The two of you exchanged the closest thing to a kiss you could, Diavolo's lips nearly engulfing your entire head. You pulled back and smiled at one another.

"I would like to apologize for ruining our sleep over, my love. And for...my unseemly behavior. Please do not think worse of me for it, and please know that even now I will never do anything to hurt you."

You knew. You'd known for nearly a year now that Diavolo would never harm you. If nothing else, tonight had simply shown you how much he truly cared for you. Life moving forward would be different for you both, but you never were one for doing things the normal way. You settled down in Diavolo's warm palm as something deep within your body began to shudder...

[shokobuns]

“see”

in which you warm up to your stepdad while your mom’s not home.

prequel to feel.

pairing: stepdad!sukuna ryomen x reader

genre: smut, taboo

word count: 1.4k 

warnings: smut, parental stepcest, mutual masturbation (f/m), taboo, daddy kink, scenes (sex, overstim, size kink), slight mommy issues (only if you squint tho)

“behave while i’m gone, i gotta get something at the store.” she says sternly.

you nod, putting the last of your plates on the rack before turning on the dishwasher. “is sukuna coming with you?”

“no,” she replies, scrolling through her phone before slipping it in her purse, “he’s taking a nap right now. you better leave him alone.”

“i will.”

“alright. i’m not planning on leaving him any time soon. you need to warm up to him somehow, darling.”

after you hear the click that signified she was out, you groan exasperatedly.

sukuna.

he’s the only thing your mom had paid all her attention to these past few months. you want to be happy for her, you really do, but it almost feels impossible and you can’t pinpoint the exact reason why. you don’t know what it is about the man. the cocky expression on his face that never falters, his tanned skin clad in tattoos, his piercing gaze that always radiates an aura dominance, it all made you feel uneasy.

of course, your mom would notice. it wasn’t uncommon for you to keep your interactions with him short and limited despite the fact he had been living with you for months. it wasn’t uncommon for you to retire to your room once he came home from work. and for your mom, it was all translated to one thing; you simply just did not like him. at all.

if only it was that simple.

you truly wish it was that simple because you’ve been repulsed by people before. hell, you’ve disliked tons of people and still continue to do so. you know the uneasiness that hits you whenever you’re near them. you know how hard your teeth clench, how your chest burns, how your eyes roll to the back of your head at the sound of their voice.

but that wasn’t it. this uneasiness came with fast heartbeats, fluttering feelings in your stomach, and flushed cheeks. this uneasiness came with the inability to form sentences, unconscious stares, and invaded thoughts. this uneasiness came with imagination, slight jealousy, and damp underwear.

so, no. it wasn’t that simple and it would never ever be that simple. you don’t know who you should feel sorry for. maybe your mother. your dear, flawed mother who decided that you needed a father figure after eighteen years of its absence. maybe sukuna, who probably was just looking for a wife or some fun, not a family. maybe yourself, your own clouded mind betraying you with sinful lust.

nonetheless, here you are.

here you are, chores done, bedroom door wide open, pulling your shorts down and throwing them off somewhere on your bed. he’s in the master bedroom right across from yours in the hallway, sleeping soundly. you can just barely make out the little snores leaving his mouth which is enough just for you.

you can’t help but admire him while he’s in this peaceful state. he’s handsome with structured cheeks, black ink that adorns most of his skin, and big hands that can completely cover yours in his fist with ease.

your panties are damp, sticking to your wet cunt. they become more and more ruined the more you think about him and you sigh. it happens every time. it starts with a thought, some kind of seed that sows in your head, and your mind elevates it until the thought progresses to something dirty, something shameful, something that is so wrong.

you should be happy for your mom.

it all goes out the window when you think about the large hand that steadies your waist every time you almost fall, one with a tight grip that brings back that fluttering feeling in your stomach. more black ink that compliments the veins running through them and silver rings that decorate his fingers. you’re sure, positive, that they’re thicker than your own, able to reach deeper than you ever could by yourself.

your hand travels down to your clit, rubbing slow circles on the small bud as you sigh in relief at finally being able to touch yourself after weeks. you travel lower, your finger prodding at your hot core before slipping in until you’re knuckles deep. starting off with slow strokes, you build everything up until you’re ready for another finger. you squeeze your eyes shut, an image in your mind forming as it always does when you’re in this state.

and it’s sukuna.

it’s sukuna and his fingers that would fill you up nicely, stretching your hole to the point where the line of pain and pleasure is difficult to decipher. and he’s looking at you with that piercing gaze again, the one that demands control and submission. he’s pumping his fingers at a painstakingly slow pace and so are you. when you imagine him hitting that sweet spot, you curl your fingers.

your shirt is pulled up above your breasts, one hand massaging your tit as you get lost in your own pleasure. it all feels so good, the knot in your lower tummy forming and tensing while your pussy drools all over your sheets. you’re letting out involuntary squeaks, your senses being overcome by the impending wave of bliss.

a groan from the other room interrupts the scene in your head.

the sound causes you to freeze, eyes suddenly widening as you turn in its direction. there’s a smirk plastered on sukuna’s face as his eyes follow your figure intently. from what you can make out, it’s possible that he’s been awake for a while now. your heart pounds out of your chest, body shaking from the amount of guilt and embarrassment. does he know you were thinking about him? can he sense the lewd scene you’ve put together to get off?

a million thoughts race through your mind, but the most prominent one is louder than the rest; why was he looking at you like that?

he folds over the blanket, revealing an intimidating imprint that pokes through his boxers, all the while staring straight at you. your cunt still stuffed with your own sopping fingers and you take it as a silent demand to keep going.

you obey, something that any good girl would do.

“come on, princess,” he calls out from his room, his cock springing up to his stomach as he pulls down his underwear and it’s better than anything you’ve imagined. the pink tip drips with precum and like his fingers, he’s thick and long. he spits in his hand and you gawk at the sight, saliva spilling at the side of your parted lips and he returns with his usual cocky expression.

three fingers thrust into you, knuckles deep, while he pumps his pretty cock in his fist, eyes following your every aspect of your current position. you pinch your nipple, letting out a small mewl, while attacking the spongy spot that never fails to have you squirting all over your sheets.

but you wish it was his thick cock filling you up instead.

you know that if you ever got the chance to have him stuffing you full, it would ruin the sensation of your fingers. you know that your little digits would never be able to compensate for something that huge. and seeing him fuck his fist makes your walls convulse because you know that this isn’t one sided. any crumb of guilt that was there before is wiped from your mind.

the only thing you can think about is his cock splitting your little cunny in half, pounding into your cervix while you struggle to take his full length. he wouldn’t be gentle, you know that, but you’d prefer it that way. he would pin your knees to your chest, caging your body with his arms, balls slapping against the skin of your plush ass. he’d hit every spot that you couldn’t, driving into you ruthlessly. and it wouldn’t end there because he would want to ruin you. he’d want you cumming over and over again on his cock until you’re a ruined, babbling mess begging for him to stop.

“oh- oh fuck, daddy!” you breathe out between moans, feeling wet liquid coat your thighs as your walls clamp down on your fingers. he’s almost there with you, streams of sticky white spilling onto his stomach at the sound of your sweet voice. your back arches of the bed as you cream all over your fingers, panting exhaustedly while bringing them up to your mouth, sucking softly. he’s practically staring holes through your body, his cock twitching once again.

but your mom can be back anytime with the groceries. and he really needs to clean those sheets.