#brain drain impact

[gwmac]

The Dragon and the Bear: China's Quiet Quest to Reclaim the Russian Far East

The Dragon and the Bear: China's Quiet Quest to Reclaim the Russian Far East

Introduction: The Shadow of the Century of Humiliation and the Sino-Russian Power Dynamics In the labyrinthine corridors of international politics, the Sino-Russian relationship stands out as a beacon of strategic partnership and historical complexity. Rooted in a turbulent past and blossoming in a pragmatic present, this alliance between two neighboring giants is underscored by a long history of…

[lil-gae-disaster]

My aunt when my disability is disabling me in not a stereotypical way: 😧😠 "Why don't you just [thing I'm limited in because disability]! I also have [disability] and I don't struggle with this at all! You're just a lazy child!"

[hoshigray]

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: based on this ask; enjoy, kuna gremlins <333

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: deliquent! Sukuna x student body president + fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern setting; Sukuna and you are college seniors - fingering (f! receiving) - degradation (dumbass, slut, whore) - oral (m! receiving) - face + throat fucking - anal (f! receiving) - backshots + missionary positions - impact play (spanking) - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - implied multiple orgasms - pet names (brat, doll, good girl, pet, princess) - Sukuna [NOT] being helpful :33 - mention of spit/drool.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.4k

You were typing away on your laptop with the most irritable expression, eyebrows trenched together, and your vexed exhale. And you throw your head back with a groan. “Ughhh, I’m so tired…”

“You’ve been saying that for the past three hours.”

“And you’ve been sitting on my bed for just as long, so get out!���

Toying you was Sukuna’s favorite pastime; nothing gives him more satisfaction than making you irritated with him. It’s why he’s bothering you in your apartment, to your most enormous dismay. 

Dealing with Sukuna's irritating, taxing, and bothersome nature was never something you had the time or patience for. Today, in particular, you felt the weight of his presence as you sighed heavily and turned back to your laptop, trying to ignore him. 

Like the menace he is, Sukuna’s ego thrives on getting on your nerves. Ergo, he surprised you by showing up in front of your apartment door unannounced and waltzing inside uninvited, already adding more pressure onto your Saturday afternoon meant to deal with assignments and student body work of your own. 

Now, you’re sharing the comfort of your home with the unrivaled arrogant fuck in your life! And he shows no interest in leaving—of course, he wouldn’t, fucking bastard—making himself at home and invading your personal space like boundaries be damned. So here he is, lying on his side on your puffy, comfortable bed, scrolling through his phone while periodically sneaking glances at you as the president was answering emails and inputting information into spreadsheets. 

As the hours passed, your exasperation became more and more apparent; the work seemed neverending, your brain one email and class discussion away from shutting down and fainting to your carpet. And that’s something you don’t want to happen with company around—especially him in your bedroom. God, can this day get any worse? You groaned into your hands as if shielding yourself from the workload would make it all disappear.

Maroon eyes flicker to your slouched frame once more with a lifted brow. For someone who’d be having fun lounging in your place as he sees fit, it doesn’t seem fun with you all stressed with something other than him. If he heard you sigh one more time, Sukuna might take that laptop and throw it out your balcony—which might be hilarious to see your reaction, yet today wasn’t a day he’d like to know if you’d skin him alive, at least not today. You were stressed, and seeing you stressed made him stressed, too. 

And then—click!—like a flipped switch, an idea pops inside his mind, and a grin forms as he lifts himself off your memory from the pillow. Black socks meet your carpet, stealthy steps stride him closer and closer to your distrait atmosphere, and you squeak when his cold hands touch the exposed shoulders of your ribbed tank top.

You relax in seconds, but the annoyance slips into your tone. “Cut it out, Ryōmen; can’t you see I’m busy?”

“Busy enough that you forgot about your guest?” He scoffs while you click your tongue. “You look like shit.”

“I feel like shit, and you being here doesn’t make it any easier.”

“Mmm,” your remark doesn’t faze him, putting his chin atop your head. “Is all this due by today?”

You’re too drained to bother whacking him off you, so you settle with another exhale. “Not all, but I still got a good chunk I want to get over and not deal with tomorrow and Monday.”

Another hum, his fingers taunting your skin with rubbed circles. “Want me to help?”

Finally, you move your head to look up at him. Confused, you ask, “How in the world would you help me with this stuff?”

“Not with that shit, fuck that,” you figured as much; your hopes weren’t even up to begin with. “I’m talkin’ helping you. You seem tense, and I could help ease you up a bit.”

You weren’t buying it, a furrowed brow rises. “You? Easing my stress?” You scoffed when he shrugged. “Oh fuck off, what could you possibly do to help? Don’t act like you’re worried about my well-being.”

“Who said I was worried? Don’t put words in my mouth.” You suck your teeth and remove your gaze from him; however, Sukuna brings you back to him with a pull to the chin. “And I can think of many ways to help you, prez. Just sit back, relax, and break from the stress.”

“You are one of the–if not THE main thing–stressing me out,” you retort with eyes that don’t budge. “So I don’t see why I should listen to you, all offense.” His fingers glide across your skin to cup and squeeze your cheeks, and–you can’t lie–it made you hitch your breath.

“Because you know I’m not one to make offers like this,” his crimson eyes were boring into yours, and you had to gulp. “Besides, I’m bored as hell watching you work away on your work and—“

“Blame yourself; you’re the one inviting yourself to places without per—“

“AND,” he emphasizes; he hates when you interrupt him. “If I were you, I’d outta reconsider as I’m not one to repeat favors. So, what’s it gonna be: go back and stress yourself to death or have some fun with me for a bit?”

His words replay briefly, chewing the inside of your cheek as your conscience teeters and totters on which decision to make. You’re not stupid; you know he has something up his sleeve because it’s not like him to do things all semi-nice without a catch. You could never leave your guard down with him; he is a dangerous and pretentious man. 

Yet simultaneously, you don’t know how long you can sit at your desk and CC another email before you have a mental breakdown. Perhaps you could use a break or two; it’s not like much of the stuff was due today, and steamrolling your way through would cause more than good to your exhausted body. 

“…Fine,” you finally swat his hands off you before standing out of your chair. “But don’t take long; I’ve got work to finish.”

However, it was those words that would have you backtracking because, unbeknownst to you, Sukuna already has plans of his own.

“—Khhh! Hahhh, shtop...! I’m sensit've down th—“ 

“I know that, dumbass. Why else would I be touching it?”

You were stripped of your bottoms that lay lifeless on the carpeted floor, your bare legs and lower regions displayed for Sukuna to see. Lying on your back, you squirm as he toys with your cunt that’s been aching for about a few minutes now, stuffing his middle and ring finger inside you to evoke your noisy self.

His digits stretch your entrance with every push, his fingertips leaving risky scrapes on your silky texture. The noises coming from down below were so raunchy to the ear, making you scrunch with every squelch of your come coating his ravaging fingers. Especially when the knuckle of his thumb would brush against your clitoris? How could you not cry at the feeling, even when he’s chasing you down to come a second time?

It’s embarrassing enough that this man has seen your body naked before. Yet, doing all these naughty things with him in your apartment — in your bedroom! — utterly changed the equation. Your legs jerk to close them, but that doesn’t halt Sukuna, who’s so focused on hearing you squeak at his touch no matter what.

“Mmmaah! ‘Ryo, stop it; I already cameee…!”

“Keh, you think one time is enough?” God, he’s such an asshole, snickering at you like this while pressing his forehead on yours. The tattoed man whispers, “You’ll cum however many times I want you cum, got that, princess? The hell did you think this was…” 

You bastard…! You choke on a sob when the pace of his fingers increases, and the graze on your inner walls becomes frequent and keen. Your nerves are too sensitive from the climax prior as he didn’t let you properly rest, so you arch as the acute sensation becomes more and more unavoidable.

“Ohhhfuuckk, fuuck, ‘Ryo, please…” he licks and kisses your forehead at the mention of his last name. “God! I’m gonna cumm!”

“You better,” he chews on your cheek, his teeth making you gasp and twitch around his digits. “Make a real big mess for me, you slut.”

And don’t think it’s just his fingers you need to worry about.

“…What does this have to do with my stress?”

“Shit, got your mind off of work, didn’t it?” He sneers. “Now, shut up and suck me off.”

With a reluctant pout, you accept the tip of Sukuna’s cock inside your mouth, your tongue instantly going to work like it’s supposed to. Cheeks hollow and suck in every inch of him, the girth busying your mouth until it brushes your uvula, reminding yourself to breathe in a steady rhythm before you start choking and coughing up a storm. 

You fail to see how a blowjob is meant to help you; it seems more like something to satisfy Sukuna rather than you. Honestly, that shouldn’t be surprising for the bastard to just put your working mindset on something other than actually working. Just thinking about it makes you pissed off a bit more. Whatever, you lick the crown of his glans, noticing the subtle buck of his thighs. I guess any kind of break is better than no break…

Sukuna places a hand on your head when you kiss from the underside down to his scrotum, licking and sucking the skin of his balls. “Mmfff, fuck, that’s good,” he kudos, throwing his head back at you and sucking one ball into your mouth. The feel of your tongue traveling around its skin felt euphoric. “Hahhh, Christ, doin’ so well, pet.” 

You let go of his testicle, licking up back to his glans, and suck him in with a hum. Every inch of his length is swallowed till the hilt, reaching to the crevice of your throat and massaging the velvety walls. Once you begin to bob your head, that’s when you can feel yourself relax bit by bit, his ballsack kneaded by one hand as you move to and fro. 

“There ya go, there ya go,” for some reason, his coaxes egg you on to keep going, especially with his hand squeezing your cheeks. “Keep going….Ahhh, shiiiit, hold on, hold on,” he stops you quickly, placing both his hands on your head; oh, here he goes. You brace yourself for him as he ruts into your face, his dick burrowing itself into your mouth and throat goes quicker, your saliva dripping down to his balls which smack onto your chin. “—Fffshiiit, yeahh, just like that; move that tongue just like that…Good girl.”

Unbelievable, you roll your eyes at his pleasure, yet your tongue continues to glide around the bottom of his shaft as your mouth is being used like a toy. At least now that he’s doing the work, you can allow your jaw to relax as your face is fucked till his pubes brush your nose. 

“Enjoyin’ yourself, prez?” Your peer up with hooded eyes, and he chuckles. “Don’t thank me yet; we’re barely done here.”

And he meant every word of that.

“—Ahhhaa, ohJesusss, ‘Ryooo, shtooop!!”

“—Mmph! Not when you’re gripping on me like a whore, brat.”

With your back to him and butt propped up, Sukuna fucks your ass like no tomorrow. Pistoning his cock into your puckered hole so harshly and fast that you’re sure the wind is knocked right out of you with every movement. You’re forced to submit to him and accept his dominance like always, howling at the graze of his tip, poking your inner walls.

And it’s not like you can grip your sheets for support; the bastard has your wrists restrained with one hand behind your back, leaving you helpless to defend yourself. Drool escapes puffy lips and stains the bedsheets beneath you, and your mind is too far gone to think straight, too dizzy with what’s happening around you – or rather in you. 

“Ohoooo, ohmyGo—Nmmm!!” Oh yeah, and there’s this fucker smacking your ass as he so pleases. The sting on your skin only furthers the growing daze. “It huuurtss..!”

“Aww, does it, princess?” Sukuna bends down to speak to your ear, and you clamp onto his length with how close he is. “It hurts, huh?” He patronizes you, acting like he cares as he grinds his pelvis to your buttcheeks. You whimper; the sensation of his dick writhing inside your rear channel makes your cunt compress onto nothing. Another smack to your ass causes you to jerk from the pain. “But you act like you’re feeling so good.”

“Mmmm! Wh..Who told you to speak for me—Eeeee!!” The snaps of his hips are too much; you feel as though you could break. 

“No one tells me anything, pet,” his breath feels hot to your ear, like the tongue that licks your helix. “Don’t forget that…Haiishh…! So fucking tight…”

More pounds to your butt continue to rock you, shrieks and squeals flying out of your system as the pleasure from your anus is getting harder to avoid by the second. Along with the sporadic pace, Sukuna plunges into you balls deep, having his length churn your insides in ways you’d never thought to fathom. And when the jerk sneaks a hand down to swipe your clitoris, it’s all downhill from there.

“—Ohooo!! Hahaaa, ‘Kunaaa, stop, don’t tease—Tahhh!!” You plea, but your teeth clench at the pinch of your bud. It’s no use; you can’t fight it anymore. “Sukunaa…!”

When your orgasm hits you once more, your throat releases a scream past your judgment. Sukuna finally lets go of your wrists, and you immediately grip through the shocks coursing through your quivering figure. He hisses, his hips now going slower as you flutter on him. “Mhmm, yeah, let it all out,” he commands in purrs. 

Your body calms down, trembles subsiding. However, you try to fight the shakes to stand on your knees. “‘Kuna, please, enough,” you remove his member from you. “I gotta…get back to wo—H-Hey!”

“Oh, no, you don’t.” You were flipped to your back, his hands spreading your legs for him to insert his shaft back inside you. You moan when he swipes your clit and sucks on your nipple. “Like I said, we’re not done yet. So be a doll and keep that mouth shut; not a single word about your work.”

Oh, fuck you Ryōmen Sukuna!! It would’ve been best if you had never given him the chance actually to help you. But there is no point regretting it now; no choice but to see it all through. 

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ dividers by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[sallysfairytale]

10 tips for a 10x better life

0 complaining

Complaining focuses your mind on problems instead of finding solutions. By shifting your energy to action and gratitude, you become more positive, productive, and resilient.

1 (cold) shower/day

Cold showers boost circulation, improve recovery, and increase mental toughness. Even warm showers help refresh your body and mind, setting the tone for a productive day.

2 liters of water/day

Proper hydration improves energy levels, brain function, and digestion. Dehydration can lead to fatigue, headaches, and poor concentration—so keep your water intake in check. Tipp: Use a large cup or bottle with 500ml or 1l. It'll help with building the habit if you don't have to get up after every glass

3 hours max screen-time

Excessive screen time can drain your mental clarity, disrupt sleep, and make you less present in real life. Setting limits helps you focus on meaningful activities and personal growth. If setting limits doesn't work: Delete the App that's distracting you the most completely off your phone. For me it was character.ai -> damn this app had me in a chokehold for some while...

4 day resistance training/workout

Regular strength training boosts metabolism, enhances physical and mental health, and increases longevity. Even a few sessions a week can improve confidence and energy. Doesn't mean you have to get a gym-membership -> just go on youtube and find a home-workout that works for you <3

5 mins daily meditation

Meditation reduces stress, enhances focus, and strengthens emotional resilience. Just five minutes a day can help you feel more present, clear-headed, and in control of your thoughts.

6 home-cooked dinners/week

Cooking at home allows you to control ingredients, save money, and eat healthier. It also builds discipline and strengthens your connection to the food you consume.

7 strangers spoken to per week

Engaging with new people improves social skills, confidence, and networking opportunities. You never know what connection, insight, or opportunity a simple conversation might bring.

8 hrs sleep/night

Quality sleep is essential for brain function, recovery, and emotional well-being. Lack of sleep leads to irritability, poor focus, and decreased productivity—prioritize a good rest at night!

9 thousand steps

Walking keeps your body active, improves cardiovascular health, and boosts creativity. It’s an easy, low-impact way to stay fit and clear your mind daily. Put on some headphones, open your favorite playlist and spend some quality time outside.

10 pages reading/day

Reading expands your knowledge, improves focus, and fuels personal growth. Just 10 pages a day can introduce you to new ideas, perspectives, and skills that elevate your life.

xoxo, sally

pic1 | pic2 | pic3

[mortalheartache]

Drain You

Your stepbrother is going to fuck you — whether you like it or not.

Tags: NON-CON, DDDNE, stepcest, use of “big brother” and “little sister”, forced creampie, threat of anal, degrading (slut, bitch), impact play, overstimulation, pussy slapping, literally so much use of the word “fuck”

Word Count: 0.9k

─── ⋆⋅ ☆ ⋅⋆ ───

Your nails, scraping for purchase, escape, a fight, anything, left angry red marks on his forearms, but he didn’t even bother to flinch and give you the slightest sliver of triumph in your fucked-out brain. “C’mon baby, you know that’s not gonna stop me. Why bother?” Sam taunted, flexing his bicep just slightly to make you sputter and squirm more from lack of oxygen.

“Just- fuck!- just stop struggling, and I’ll let you breathe. I pr- fuckyou’resotight- promise.”

With your brain going fuzzy and your vision starting to blur, you finally relented, dropping your hands from his arm and going limp under him. He sighed, removing his arm from your neck and placing his large hand onto your hip, using it to fuck you even harder. You whined, tears pricking your eyes as your arms shook, trying to hold yourself up. It was getting more and more strenuous with each thrust of his cock kissing your cervix. He was pummeling your pussy into the shape of his cock, the thought making you clench against your will and moan lowly.

“Fuck, honey. You like it, don’t you? Say it. Say you like your big brother’s cock in you.” He sneered, slapping your ass harshly and gripping the skin, jiggling it. You squeezed your eyes, trying to fend off your orgasm and tears, shaking your head in defiance.

“God- c’mon! You know you like it! Just fucking admit it! You like being split open by your big brother’s cock, don’t you, slut?” He snarled in your ear, gripping your hair and pulling your head as far back as it could go. You screamed at the sudden pain, arms going out and hands reaching to the end of the bed to try and scramble away. Tears began to fall, and he just laughed.

“Your little pussy is so wet around me, she’s gripping me like a fucking vice. Just stop acting like you’re not turned on by this. Say it.”

His cruel words made you clench again, the knot in your stomach tightening and your legs starting to shake. Sam slapped your ass again, and upon seeing how you whined and tried to squirm away again, he slapped your pussy, hard. The pain and malice of it all tipped you over the edge, cumming on his cock. Your vision went white for a moment, moaning loud enough that you were certain your neighbors could hear you.

He kept pounding into you, using one arm under your stomach to keep you up for him to use without you collapsing and moving his other hand to your clit, violently rubbing it in a way that made your back arch and legs jerk.

“Fuck- fuck- I want another one. Cum again, bitch.” He moaned into your ear, rolling his hips and pinching your clit in a way that made you sob, fisting the sheets and burying your face in them.

“S-Sammy! Sammy, stop, it hurts! It hurts too much, please!” You cried, trying to crawl away. His arm across your stomach was infallible, quickly yanking you down the bed and further onto his cock. You came again, nearly blinding you, feeling your own cum spurt out around his cock and dripping from your cunt and his pubic hair.

The overstimulation was becoming unbearable, your body nearly convulsing with each thrust of his cock and swipe of his fingers on your clit. Your tears and drool mixed onto the sheets under your face.

“Don’t make me go into this tight little asshole, squirmy bitch.” He punctuated his words by moving his hand from your clit and circling your asshole with his fingers, tauntingly pushing his middle finger in just enough to make you sob out a protest and force yourself to be still.

“Good. Keep being obedient,” he bit back a moan, “and I’ll let you go sooner.”

You nodded aggressively, tangled and sweaty hair covering your face and hiding your wobbling lip.

“Fuck, baby. You’re such a good little sister for me, aren’t you? I need to fuck you more oft-“ Before he could finish the terrifying thought, you felt his thrusts stutter and his cock twitch in your sensitive little hole. You choked on your own scream, not wanting him to cum inside you. His hot cum painted your walls as he kept thrusting, fucking it deeper and deeper into you.

Finally pulling out, he fell limp, body covered in a sheen of sweat as he panted. The sudden weight of him on your back knocked the air out of you, and he laughed again at your pathetic begs for him to move.

He stretched his arm across the bed to his bedside table, opening the drawer and grabbing something you couldn’t see. You tried to turn your head to see, but he used his free hand to grab the back of your skull and twist it forward again, pushing your face into the mattress. He shoved it again into the bed, harder, smirking at the choked yelp you couldn’t silence by yourself.

Suddenly, you felt a pop as something was placed into your leaking cunt. He’d put a plug into you, keeping his cum inside.

“Not letting any of your big brother’s cum go to waste, are we?” He tutted, in faux sympathy.

“Now don’t try to take it out. I don’t want to have to tie you up. You don’t want that either, do you, baby?” He cooed, stroking your hair as your body wracked with your sobs.

──────────

Want more? Comment on my taglist to be notified when I post more smut!

A/N: Good lord, welcome to my first DDDNE work. The title is a Nirvana song <3333

As always, thanks for reading! xx

@jadegmfu @fuckmyskywalker @tracymbcm @anakinsbunniegirl @slvttedoutmars @bunnylovesani @zapernz @erinkeifer @arzua10 @no-oneelsebutnsu @bubsmarx @offthethirlwall @skywalkershootme @titaniasfairy

[messyoungie]

SELF CARE DAY FOR LOW ENERGY DAYS

it’s important to have different routines ready to match your mood and energy level. which is why I believe preparing for self care days for when you’re just not feeling your best is essential and a great way to look out for yourself. here’s my guide to self care days for low energy.

✧ 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓

despite your low energy, it’s important you still get your daily movement. however, exercise doesn’t always have to be intense.

try doing one of these

— 2 minutes of touching/trying to touch your toes

— 5-7 minutes of full body stretching

— 10 minutes of yoga

or maybe just stretch your neck, roll your shoulders, and take a few deep breaths. whatever you’re ready to do :)

links to short low energy workouts:

5 minute morning yoga

11 minute stress relief yoga

10 minute lazy girl workout

8 minute good morning pilates

✧𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃

do something for your mind. journal, get your thoughts out, meditate, read five pages of an inspiring book. do something that you will love and that your mind will thank you for. whether it’s sitting in silence for a few minutes or playing a game that’ll challenge your brain.

journaling prompts <3

++ what’s been draining your energy recently?

++ what’s been giving you positive energy recently?

++ what’s your focus been on lately?

++ what are three things you’re happy are in your life?

++ how is my environment impacting my energy?

if your energy is low I really recommend writing about it. what’s making you tired? reflect on it and go easy on yourself.

✧𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐎 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

the last thing you want to do is give your mind the responsibility of remembering your tasks. i don’t care how little you have on your schedule, write a to do list. on a low energy day, it’s important we’re easy on ourselves. getting everything out of our head and onto a piece of paper will not only make tasks seem more manageable but will also make our minds feel a bit lighter.

write everything. I mean it. even the small and seemingly insignificant tasks. even the parts of your routine that you do everyday anyways, write it all down.

✧𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒

even though we’re a little bit down, that doesn’t mean we can cheat on the promises and boundaries we made with ourselves.

a low energy day doesn’t mean you can jump right back into your old habits. you’ll only feel worse if you do. it can be comforting to spend the whole day in bed, liking relatable TikToks and having a 7 hour screen time. but that’s not real rest. do something that’ll nourish you while also making you feel relaxed and comfortable. whether that’s watching an episode of your comfort show, rereading a chapter of your favorite book, or listening to your all time favorite songs while you just relax.

low energy is not a reason to practice unhealthy bad habits.

✧𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐘

how do we enjoy a low energy self care day besides the usual rest and relaxation? by doing some activities!!

things you can do on a low energy self care day:

++paint

++do your own nails

++movie marathon of your fave genre

++install and try out different cute & cozy games on your device

++bubble bath

++make a Pinterest board or Moodboard that will inspire you to be the best version of yourself

thank you for reading, take care!! ♡

— messyoungie

[bloomzone]

2025 : #14 take care of your energy

✒️..Energy is at the core of everything we do. It shapes how we feel, how we act, and even what we attract into our lives. If you’ve been feeling drained, stuck, or disconnected from yourself, it may be time to take a closer look at your energy care routine. Ask urself: do you have practices in place to reset and refresh your energy?

So how energy plays a key role in manifesting your dream life and how you can harness it to transform your day-to-day experience. !

Step 1: Energy Awareness

The first step in working with your energy is being aware of it. To effectively care for your energy, you need to know what you're working with. Awareness helps you identify areas that need healing or shifts, so you can address them before they become bigger issues.

How to Become Aware of Your Energy ?

Meditation: Try a body scan meditation to connect with how your body is feeling. Close your eyes, relax, and mentally check in with each part of your body—your head, chest, shoulders, legs. Notice any tension, discomfort, or emotional weight. Pay attention to what your body is trying to communicate, even if it’s a subtle feeling or thought.

Journaling: Take time to write down what’s on your mind. Brain dumping your worries, emotions, or stresses helps you understand your emotional state and energy. Are you holding onto negative thoughts? Is there an unresolved emotion lingering in your mind? Journaling allows you to externalize your feelings, giving you clarity and insight.

By practicing these techniques you’ll become more attuned to ur energy and better equipped to take care of it.

Step 2: Energy Cleansing

Once you’re aware of your energy, it's time to cleanse and reset it. Energy cleansing allows you to release built-up tension, negative emotions, and stagnant energy that may be weighing you down.

Methods for Energy Cleansing:

Breathing Techniques: Use your breath to reset your energy. Breathing exercises like the 4-7-8 technique (inhale for 4 counts, hold for 7 counts, exhale for 8 counts) can help calm your nervous system. Another method is box breathing, where u inhale for 4 counts, hold for 4 counts, exhale for 4 counts, and hold for 4 counts again. These slow, intentional breaths help clear out negative energy and bring balance !

Showering: A simple but effective way to cleanse your energy is by taking a shower. As the water washes away the dirt from your body, envision it also cleansing your mind and soul.

Walking in Nature: Stepping outside for a walk can instantly reset ur energy AND YOUR MOOD TOO .Nature has a natural ability to purify and refresh. Whether it’s a stroll in the park or a hike through the woods, walking outside shifts your environment and revitalizes your energy.

Decluttering Your Space: Your environment has a powerful impact on your energy. A cluttered space can make you feel overwhelmed, while a clean, organized environment promotes clarity and calmness. Make it a habit to periodically declutter and freshen up your space.

Step 3: Energy Redesign

Once you’ve cleansed your energy, it’s time to redesign it. This step allows u to actively shape how you want to feel and how you want your energy to flow. u can design your energy to match the kind of person you want to be and the life you want to lead.

How to Redesign Your Energy ?

Set ur Intentions: Start by asking yourself how you want your energy to be. How do you want to feel in the mornings, during the day, and at night? How do you want to show up for others? Visualize yourself embodying that energy, whether it’s confidence, calm, joy, or empowerment. Setting an intention gives u a clear direction for how to direct your energy throughout the day.

Use Visualization: After setting your intention, visualize yourself living it out. Imagine yourself walking through your day with the energy you want to embody. How does it feel? What does it look like? Visualizing this regularly allows you to rehearse this energy, making it easier to show up that way in real life.

Harness the Power of Sound: Sound can be an incredibly powerful tool in redesigning your energy. Whether it’s listening to motivating music, audio affirmations, or sound healing frequencies, sound helps shift the vibration of your energy. Curate playlists that align with the feelings you want to cultivate, and use them to enhance ur mood and energy.

Affirmations and Positive Self-Talk: Incorporate affirmations into your daily routine. Positive affirmations help reprogram your mind and align your energy with the goals you want to achieve. Speak to yourself kindly and empower your energy with affirming words.

By taking control of your energy, you take control of your life. With awareness, cleansing, and redesigning, you can manifest the life you desire and create a more vibrant, purposeful existence.

@bloomzone 📇

[facesittingnightmares]

Fart Symphony:

“Stop the whining! You trashed college property so now you must be punished accordingly. We don’t care if you were drunk, damage is damage!” Joshua in the dark blue shorts said in a stern tone as his two friends completed the fart circle. You took a deep breath but nothing could prepare you for what was to come.

“Fuck…take that fart slut!” The guy on the right laughed as a bassy boom erupted in his jeans. It was sulphuric and burnt your nostrils as you were forced to inhale it all or face worse punishment for getting of your knees. “How about this stinker?” The guy in the middle roared as a more wet sounding fart rushed out, immediately hitting you with force. This one didn’t burn as much but lingered in the air even after inhaling, smelling of old rotten food. “Hope you enjoy this bomb fart face!” Joshua groaned as he squeezed his fists and released a simple puff like fart lasting all of one second. “Fu…fuck..that’s the worst!” You gagged as the power of Joshua’s lactose intolerance was revealed. It drained you to the point of not having energy to get up even if you wanted to.

“Okay fart sniffer, time for the real fun to begin! We’ve kinda perfected this tactic we call the ‘Fart symphony’. We will all fart at the same time, allowing our unique sounds and smells to destroy you mentally!” The words send a shiver down your back as you can’t imagine taking all three at once. A few minutes pass before you hear the squeak of the middle guys fart. A few seconds pass, and the lingering smell of rotten food makes your eyes water. Then Joshua adds bass with his sudden fart. The impact of his fart makes your gag worse, with the centre farter still blasting his wet sounding gas stream at you. Now, the guy on the right joins in and hits you with his nostril melting gas. “Ple…please..sto..” You pleads are cut off as Joshua blasts again to add bass. Eye watering stench, nostril burning stench, and energy draining stench all at once. You start to get light-headed, and your vision gets blurry, but what you can make out horrifies you. The three fart doms seemed to be stripping to their bare asses, ready to start another symphony on your face.

“I’ll start this time guys!” Joshua laughs as he lets out an echoing fart, now fully free from his shorts it seemed to have more bass and deep eggy scent that forced your brain to reawaken you. A second fart from Joshua made you completely unable to move due to fatigue, even your breathing becoming shallow huffs. Then the brassy sulphuric gas of the right farter poured out, burning even more now as your nostrils were exposed to the full power. Finally, the middle farter showed his full power and let rip a ten second spluttering wet fart that made the air moist and amplified the existing scent. During the ten seconds, the other two continued to join in until they heard your limp pale body hit the ground.

"Serves the little fart face right for destroying college property!" Joshua laughs as he and the others keep farting the rest of the night.

[nenelonomh]

brain rot makes me angry

brain rot, according to newport institute, is a slang term used to describe the silly or less valuable content online, the negative effects that can come from spending too much time online, and the negative psychological and cognitive effects caused by excessive exposure to low-quality internet content, especially in niche communities. it highlights how exposure to low-quality or superficial content can impact our thoughts and language.

in the short term, brain rot can lead to decreased cognitive function. when we consume too much low-value content, it can make it harder to concentrate on more demanding tasks. emotionally, silly or trivial content might lead to a less engaged or emotionally flat state, affecting your mood and overall mental well-being. additionally, constant scrolling and exposure to pointless content can result in mental fatigue, leaving you feeling mentally drained and less motivated to tackle more meaningful activities.

over the long term, brain rot can have more severe implications. a steady diet of low-quality content can erode critical thinking skills, making it harder to engage in deep and meaningful analysis. spending too much time in specific online communities can also alter your perceptions, warping your view of the world and normalizing certain behaviors or opinions that might not be healthy. furthermore, constant exposure to bite-sized content can reduce your attention span, making it more difficult to engage with longer, more complex material. this can impact your ability to learn and be productive, as you may find it challenging to focus on tasks that require sustained attention.

it's important to balance your digital diet with high-quality and meaningful content to maintain a healthy mind. by being mindful of the content that we consume and taking steps to limit exposure to low-value material, we can protect our cognitive and emotional well-being.

let me leave you with these: ndtv article, stopdoomscrolling-cafe

have you noticed these effects in your own experience or observed them in others?

❤️nene

instagram | pinterest | blog site

[jaggedamethyst]

trying...

pairing: bucky x reader (non gender specified)

content: bucky is dealing with trauma as a result of his time as the winter soldier, you accidentally get caught in the crossfire. (references to physical harm, mentions of violence, inferred ptsd symptoms and trauma, etc). also slight stucky if you squint bc i know theres fans out there.

notes: ive thought about trying to put this into words for so long, i hope it translates well. i may do a part two if the people want it. pls read the content warning above and steer away if this may trigger you.

word count: 1.8k

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

In recovering from the absolute torture that was Bucky’s life the last few years—there were few moments of solace. The worst being the slight feeling of peace before all of his progress abruptly drained back to zero… before he’d been reminded of a trigger. 

Something would suddenly pop into his brain—betraying him—and he’d be forced to physically and metaphorically swat the idea away. The problem, though, was that this soldier was doing what any good one does, fighting. James Buchanan Barnes knew what it was to be a good man, a good soldier. But the Winter was more formidable than ever. 

Whenever the opportunity presented itself, the assassin had to make an attempt at clawing its way out. 

The attempts weren’t infrequent. 

Bucky would sit by the window, unable to sleep. He would often be forced to watch the sunrise. Daybreak. He’d long committed the color of the sun meeting the skyline to his memory and with it the unfortunate feeling of his companion wanting to make an appearance. 

Whenever he’d volunteer to build something. The screws, bolts, and nails would be shiny enough to reflect Bucky’s face back to him. An image he’d hate to observe, of course. All he could see in them was potential, though. Positive connotations escaped him in this instance because all he could see was an opportunity for destruction…natural wear and tear…oxidation. Like him, these pieces of metal existing just meant that there was a chance to become worn. To decay. To become something bad…rusted. 

Numbers were the hardest to avoid and he realized just how often something can torment you when it becomes a thing you hate. One, nine, seventeen. Nine, seventeen, one. Seventeen, one, nine. In any order or occurrence these numbers seemed to follow him as close as his shadow—if not more so. He’d become particularly hateful towards one. The casual “one second,” “one moment,” and “I’ll call you back in one minute” seemed to linger in his brain for far too long. 

Freight car. Attempts to get out more proved futile. No matter how far he tried to get away, the sound of rumbling would fill his ears. He knew the sound too well. Bucky knew the feeling of air leaving your lungs. He’d grown accustomed to the feeling of falling. He felt it every day. 

The thing about falling is that when it occurs for long enough it almost feels normal. That slight weightless feeling and euphoria tricked Bucky the first time it happened. That was until he hit the ground. In experiencing one or more of his triggers every day, the feeling of weightlessness returned—so consistent that in a weird way, Bucky felt as if he’d won. He could no longer be shocked by the initial stomach drop if he continued to propel towards something nonexistent. He could no longer be surprised by the euphoria if the impact never came…if he never hit the ground. To him, if it happened so frequently that you were no longer taken aback, you’d beaten your triggers right? 

He couldn’t be more wrong. He was terribly so. 

If there was one thing Bucky learned and ignored in his various therapy sessions is that acting like something isn’t there is not…ideal. Having this being claw and tear at him left him with metaphorical lesions that he wasn’t tending to. People tried. There was never an interaction for which Steve wasn’t looking at his best friend with longing. Longing for the stoic and confident man he once knew. This person was a shell. Even with all the progress, he would never forget the one person he had left seeing him as nothing more than a mission. One only wonders how he’d feel to know that Bucky sees every day as one, a mission, an attempt to not crash the fuck out. (That was something new he learned, suited him for sure).

Again, people tried. Without even realizing it, you tried. 

The day you met Bucky, he just seemed grumpy to you. “Valid,” you’d thought with a shrug. There wasn’t really much to not be grumpy about these days. Yet, you flashed him a smile that warmed his insides—and not in the usual evil entity trying to escape way. 

In the darkest of days inside his mind, he found something to aspire towards just knowing you walked this planet. 

You’d known each other for a while before it became anything serious; he was reasonably weary of getting close to anyone for fear of dragging them down with him. But, he promised he’d never hurt you—every time he uttered the phrase in passing you shrugged him off, reassuring him that you knew. 

“James, we both know you wouldn’t hurt a bee—“ you stopped to point to him, his brow arched as you knew it’d be. “And I know that's not the phrase, okay! You’re an old man and you know all the platitudes.” 

Bucky stood to meet you in the center of your shared apartment, “what does that have to do with you saying the phrase wrong?”

“My point,” you said, tapping his nose for emphasis, “is as I said.” You snaked your arms around him, “you wouldn’t hurt a bee.” You locked eyes with him, “because even if a bee was attacking you, swarming all around you, and wanting to hurt you…you still wouldn’t hurt it. You wouldn’t swat your hand or anything. Some may say that's just stupid…but I think it pretty much sums up the person you are. I know that. You know that.” 

You pecked his lips and walked away. 

Bucky was left speechless and almost teary-eyed by your analogy. But that was you, trying…without trying. He owed it to you to try, too. 

The thing about that is, there was still so much for him to uncover. He had fallen for so long, he knew that. He’d been traumatized for so long without saying anything. 

He had nightmares that only went away when he stopped sleeping altogether. It had been so long since he truly rested that he let himself forget about that inconvenience.

Tonight, he decided, was the night he would face his fears by being well-rested to take on the next day. He mumbled to himself, “One day at a time, right?” He slipped into bed with an excitement he hadn’t really expected. It wasn’t long before sleep overtook him. 

_______________________

He woke suddenly to screams. A woman? The high-pitched and erratic yells made his head hurt worse than he’d ever experienced. 

“What the hell is happening?” 

He turned in bed to see you not there, which immediately made him spring into action. Calling your name and getting no response anywhere in the apartment was enough to make him want to cry. But the screams. They were coming from outside, not in. 

He looked out the window to see if he could see what was going on and oh my gosh. 

With no shoes, he ran. He felt as if the stairway was endless. The pain of the asphalt was nothing in comparison to the pit in his stomach as he ran directly towards it. Towards your car wrecked. Completely wrapped around a tree. How could this happen? The one time he’d gone to sleep. 

Nobody was helping you. Your car literally sitting with you inside motionless. There was no time to think, he ripped the door off. He reached for you, pulling you from the car. He knew CPR but everything was escaping him, it seemed. 

He pleaded and yelled for someone to help, realizing that your body was much more limp and cold than ideal right now. He repeated “no” more times than he’d ever in his life. He clung to you, squeezing you, praying for a miracle. But there was nobody. He clawed at anything; your clothes quickly became battered. He was so confused. His head met your chest, his attempt at trying to wish you back to life. Back to him. But the look in your eyes was so—wait. Not your eyes…

The “no, no, no” repeated again, without him even trying. He felt a scratching at him. A darkness enveloped him and his surroundings and his hand…

His hand was on someone's neck. No. A man. 

He remembered this. His body working against itself to execute orders. His mind fighting within its own skull to erase the memories of James. 

James

It repeated faintly in his mind, and yet as much as he grasped for it he couldn’t seem to reach it. 

James

It was getting lower. He tried, he was trying. He felt it pounding at him. Suddenly, that familiar jolt. But rather than an electric current pulsing through his body in an attempt to disconnect him from reality, he’d finally have to face this one. 

He was sleeping. No, he was dreaming. The voice inside his head, you, calling to him in a plea to stop. The James that would never hurt a bee, had hurt you. 

He fell back quickly, feeling himself glossed over in sweat. He looked to you, speechless, bruises already forming on your arms. He clung to you, squeezing you. 

Bucky sobbed immediately, reaching to console you. You moved back before even processing it. The flash of hurt in his eyes moved you, but your fear kept you at a distance. 

“Did I,” he mumbled, “did I ch-“ he couldn’t get the word out. 

You shook silently, eyes shifting to the bedpost that was now clearly disfigured…a set of fingers printed along it. His hands on someone's neck. 

You were lucky, a split second and some scratching and you were able to get some distance between you. Even there, you didn’t feel settled. You witnessed your boyfriend, grasp what could’ve very easily been your neck and squeeze with an ease so unsettling that you had no choice but to try and stop him. Despite all the advice you heard to never wake someone this way, you knew he’d been hurting. You hit him, as hard as you could. He tried, he was trying. He felt it pounding at him.

“I am,” the man inhaled, “more sorry than I can ever begin to express to you. I don’t know what happened.” You observed him slowly rise to his feet, clearly drained. “I made you a promise. Who am I… if I can’t let that be true?” 

Bucky moved silently and quickly, ignoring your voice calling out to him. Even in shock, you were trying. You tried. 

Within minutes some people you recognized started to look you over—empathy in their eyes. You drowned out their medical talk, looking for Bucky, noticing he slipped out without a word. 

People tried. He tried. But the scars of the Winter Soldier had become so big that they’d inadvertently grown. Like roots—weeds—they festered and spread to the ones he loved. 

He didn’t know what to say to you, or if he could ever be with you ever again. But he watched from a distance, observing you be tended to like a fresh garden. The weeds seemed to dwindle. While still there, he knew that at the very least—he wasn’t contributing to your stunt growth. Without him, you could blossom into so much more.

(ps. sorry about the emotional scarring 💀)

- amethyst 💟

[macgyvermedical]

what are some examples of injuries that work well for a hidden/delayed injury trope? is there like a slow internal bleeding situation or something that can show up later just when everyone thinks things are okay?

Head Injury: The skull has a finite amount of space inside it. If it gets knocked around and the brain starts to bleed or swell, that blood or swelling takes up some of the space. The more bleeding or swelling there is, the less space for brain there is, the harder it is for blood to deliver oxygen and nutrients to the brain tissue. As less and less blood gets to the brain, the more it starts to malfunction, and the person begins to get drowsy and disoriented, leading to unconsciousness (along with a severe headache). The interval between the initial impact and the symptoms of disorientation is called the "lucid interval" and can be hours to a day or so.

Injury to the digestive system: If a character gets hit in the abdomen hard enough a couple different things can happen. One is that the intestines can perforate. A small perforation might not be immediately noticeable (beyond the pain from the impact) but within a day or so a severe infection called peritonitis can set in. This requires surgery and IV antibiotics to correct. Another, especially if the blow was close to the appendix, is that swelling can block the entrance to the appendix, causing appendicitis. This can take a few days to become apparent.

Internal bleeding from the spleen or liver: Another thing that can happen if someone takes a blow to the abdomen is internal bleeding. In this case, there are two big bleedy things in the abdomen to watch out for- the spleen and the liver. Either can get a relatively small tear in them from a blow, and it might not even cause severe pain initially. Instead, they start to bleed, and the blood starts to pool in the abdomen. Blood irritates the lining of the abdomen, which causes pain to slowly worsen as the person bleeds. This usually takes a few hours.

Compartment syndrome: This is something that can happen after a musculoskeletal injury like a fracture or a sprain. Muscles sit in tough sheaths. The swelling around the injury site can increase pressure inside one or more of those sheaths. This causes gradually worsening pressure and pain until, like the head injury, blood stops being able to get to the muscle. This causes the muscle to begin to die. To fix this, a surgeon has to cut the sheath and allow the muscle space to swell. This can taken anywhere from a few hours to a few days.

Slow hemothorax. A hemothorax occurs when part of the chest cavity starts to fill with blood after an injury. If this happens slowly enough, it might be hours before enough blood has accumulated to cause breathing difficulty (breathing would become steadily more difficult as time passed). This is fixed by inserting a tube into the chest where the pocket of blood is and draining the blood.

[strawbeerossi]

Nights Like These

18+ Content. Minors DNI

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: After a grueling case, your best friend and roommate Spencer comes home a lot more cuddly and hands on. So much so you two have to share a bed because he just doesn’t wanna be alone.

Content Warning: Some light case discussion, light angst due to Spencer being in distress from the case, one of the many versions of the one bed trope, best friends with hidden feelings trope, Spencer ends up having a wet dream, admitted feelings, some sweet fluff, fingering (f receiving), oral sex (f receiving), finger sucking, unprotected sex, creampie, some cockwarming in the end.

Word Count: 2.5K

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Tags 🏷️ @beardedhotchh @nyx-tella @multifandom-on-the-side @morgthemagpie @eveyez-exe @avis-writeshq

This is purely self indulgent. Also new format of not doing purely 3rd person. Let me know if I should do this more often.

You knew how hard it was for Spencer on emotionally draining cases. He had feared being alone after them, his experience in prison making him more prone to the occasional outburst, which he desperately tried avoiding.

They could take an everlasting impact on him if he wasn’t careful enough, the idea of losing all control and being faced with the trauma that continued stacking against him was not what he needed.

He struggled enough with his day to day life, his therapist only able to give him so much advice and do so much for him. He liked to say that she helped but she wasn’t a miracle worker. He seemed to never be comfortable in the past.

Until he met you.

He’d found solace with you.

The way you would play with his hair and let him get as close as possible to you so he could cling for comfort were things that he appreciated. You weren’t the type to push him away and tell him to deal with his own issues, no, you took care of him.

You’d met whenever Spencer put out an ad for a new roommate, living in DC was something he could afford due to the luxury of working with the FBI for fifteen years, however he didn’t like being alone. 

He was fresh out of prison at the time, the silence being too eery to deal with. He knew he couldn’t live in the chaos of JJ’s house, nor could he turn to much of anyone else on the team. He felt like a burden to them. A piece of him died in the prison cell he was left in,the nights of being awake due to the impending doom that was gonna strike granted the inmates found out he was a federal agent.

When he had gotten into contact with you due to you being the first one to speak with him, he had already found some sense in comfort with you. You were kind and always had a smile on your face, not to mention that you had a sense of cleanliness that Spencer could definitely deal with.

 Due to his busy life, his apartment could tend to be littered with books that he’d started before he got a call, he would have case files piling up, even the occasional coffee cup or two was left out. He wasn’t a slob, yet he could definitely benefit from a roommate who would teach him the ways of organization.

The both of you really seemed to hit it off, your energies feeding into one another really well. You learned he knew way too much, joking how you didn’t know how his brain could hold the vast amount of knowledge that stuck with him. He learned that you were really into science fiction novels and films, being impressed with your knowledge of Doctor Who and Star Trek. 

Both of you were seemingly cut from the same piece of cloth, making it easier for you to upgrade from just being roommates to best friends as well.

It was a late Tuesday night whenever Spencer was quietly walking through the front door. He could smell the familiar scent of lemon, associating the smell with the cleaner that you’d mop the floors with. 

He was toeing his shoes off by the front door, knowing you’d kill him if you woke up to anything on the freshly mopped floors. “Y/N?” He called, walking deeper into the apartment. His voice was hoarse, presumably from yelling at some point. 

“In my room!” You call, glancing up from the book in your hands while watching Spencer quietly push the door open. He looked exhausted. Being familiar already with that look, you were placing your book down before holding your arms out to Spencer with a soft sigh.

As he approached your bed and you felt his body collapse in your arms, you were slowly rubbing his back.The heaviness of his heart could be felt by the way his grip tightened on you, his face buried in your neck as his body shifted to get comfortable on the bed beside you. 

Your fingers were threading through the touseled curls on his head, nails occasionally scratching his scalp in an effort to help soothe him. It seemed to work, his grip loosening and his head lifting soon after, cheek against the fluffy pillow that he could’ve swore that you had added to your bed just for him.

“It was a hard case.” He stated the obvious, making your head nod. “I can imagine. Do you wanna talk about it?” The softness of your voice brought Spencer comfort, a soft sigh falling from his lips. “The unsub targeted male and female best friends. Apparently, his ex-girlfriend had left him for someone who was her best friend. We found out they recently got married and he just snapped.”

He neglected to mention how the duos reminded him of the friendship you two shared.

It was something that a partner wouldnt understand without immediately jumping to the worst conclusions. It made him think of how that very well could’ve been you two, a man killing you for his own failed relationship and pushing blame on everyone else.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.. You’re safe now, more importantly, he’s behind bars.” Your reassurance made his head nod slowly. “You’re right.” He offered a small smile, his head turning to face you easier. “Do you mind if I sleep with you?”

The question was a silly one to ask, already knowing the answer whenever he was being told to turn off the bedside lamp closest to him. 

You didn’t mind sharing a bed with Spencer, enjoying the comforting presence of a loving companion. Truth be told, you’d always had the tiniest crush on him. He made sure you were okay both physically and mentally, not to mention that he was truly an amazing roommate and friend. He carried a sense of warmth, one that could draw anyone in.

As you began to drift off to sleep, things felt right. 

The feeling of his arms wrapped around your frame always made you feel a sense of safety, not to mention the butterflies in your belly would come to life when he’d pull you closer in the night.

Tonight was different.

You’d been sleeping for a good four hours now, the sounds of labored breathing filling the room from your slumber combined with Spencer’s, his snores not being unbearably loud. However, at some point you two had ended up in a spooning situation, your body being engulfed by his arms as he pulled you tight to his chest.You were stirring awake to the sounds of soft whispers coming from Spencer, his face buried in your neck. 

It wasn’t rare for him to talk in his sleep, you finding it silly at times because you could have full conversations with him. 

In your drowsy state, you hadn’t registered the way his hips were rutting into yours, his hard cock pressing firm against your clothed ass under the sheets. What you did register though, was a warm hand under the sheets trailing up your thigh, warm and wet kisses being pressed against the flesh of your neck. It took his thumb running over your clothed clit that had you jolting to life. 

“Spencer.” Your voice was raised in an attempt to wake him up, thankfully succeeding as his movements slowed, eyes slowly blinking open. 

“What’s wrong?” His voice was deep, laced with sleep.

“You were uh-”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence, Spencer’s realization hitting as he was quickly pulling away, body jolting up. “Oh, my god! I’m sorry.” His voice was at a high octave, his cheeks bright red with embarrassment. He couldn’t believe himself. 

“N-No it’s okay! You were sleeping.” Your body was sitting up, thighs pressed tightly together due to the fact that arousal had already settled in, your panties wet enough just from a small touch and some grinding. 

You were more touch deprived than you thought.

“I’m sorry. I should go to my room. No, I am gonna go to my room.”

“Wait!” 

You didn’t know what had gotten into you, your hand reaching to quickly grab his wrist. “Do you want help?” The words made Spencer’s mouth run dry, winded from just the mere suggestion. “Help?” He repeated, as if he wanted to hear you say it again.

“Yeah. We are both mature adults.”

“For the most part.”

His words made you crack a smile, soft laughter erupting between the both of you. Though as it died down, the sound of Spencer clicking his tongue could be heard. “You’re sure?” He then asked, not completely against the idea. “Because I really like you, Y/N. Seriously, you have no idea.” 

He liked you. You liked him. This was an invitation if you’d ever seen one.

“I’m one hundred percent sure. I have had a crush on you since i met-” You didn’t get to finish your sentence before you felt a warm hand cup your cheek, tugging you close to easily connect his lips to yours.

The kiss was filled with need and desire, his hand slowly moving from your cheek and down to your waist. You felt dizzy, the tantalizing nature of his tongue slipping into your mouth as the hunger for more was beginning to bubble under the surface. 

His hands were pushing you back on the mattress, his body now hovering over yours, your body being trapped under his weight. However, you definitely weren’t complaining. As your kiss grew more needy and sloppy, his nimble fingers were trailing up your inner thigh, hands bunching up the nightgown that you were wearing to your stomach. 

The sexual tension hung thick, his fingers continuing to tease your skin that was already burning with desire that was growing into desperation. As his fingertips slowly trailed to your panties, he was slowly pushing them to the side. 

You could feel the wind being knocked out of your lungs as one of his fingers trailed up your slick folds before making their way to your clit. “You’re already so wet, fuck.” Spencer wasn’t one to swear, normally being reluctant to use such language. It was pathetic on how it contributed to the arousal pool. 

His finger was massaging your pearl as if it needed to be polished and put on display, the sounds of your little gasps and moans spurring him on. His hand was moving away from your throbbing clit, chuckling at your whining for more. Instead of saying anything, he was disappearing under the blankets.

His large hands were pushing your thighs apart, lips pressing tantalizing kisses against your inner thighs before his tongue was licking a fat stripe up your slick folds. Your hands were sliding under the sheets, mouth falling open once he was licking and slurping at your cunt, your taste being intoxicating. 

He ate like a man starved, lapping up every ounce of arousal that seemed to gush out of your pussy with every movement. Drinking in everything you had to offer, his jaw was growing wet with the sweet nectar that he’d been so focused on milking out of you. 

It wasn’t long until his tongue was being replaced by two fingers, a cry of pleasure leaving your lips as the long digits were putting in the work, his fingers curling and brushing against the spongy button inside of you that had you roughly pushing his face into your slick cunt more. 

His tongue was licking over your clit coupled with two fingers scissoring your tight cunt open was causing your legs to shake, the knot of pleasure inside of your tummy getting tighter and tighter, your pussy walls spasming around his fingers as you were so close to your orgasm.

Then Spencer pulled away.

Before you could voice your frustrations, your open mouth was silenced by two fingers slipping into your mouth. Not needing to be told twice, your eyes were fluttering shut while letting your tongue lap up any evidence of shimmering arousal from his fingers, your moans vibrating around his finger from the taste of slick. 

With a ‘pop’, Spencer was pulling his fingers out of your mouth. “You look so beautiful, Y/N.” His words were soft, only leaning down to connect your lips in a chaste kiss. You were growing impatient, your hands quickly pushing his pants and his boxers down his legs soon after. It wasn’t enough to completely undress him, mainly because you both weren’t waiting that long. 

Spencer let his hand wrap around his hard cock, stroking a few times go get himself hard enough to his liking before tapping the thick tip against your clit, causing electricity to shoot through your body as you shivered softly at the contact. 

“Ready?” He asked, pushing the blunt head past your folds. That was when he was pushing his cock inside of you, your hands gripping his shoulders while you both shared a deep kiss.

The girth of his base had given you a delicious burn, making you hiss at the pleasurable pain. “Fuck. You take my cock so well. Like this pussy was made for me.” He grunted, the filth of his words causing a moan to fall from your lips. Never once did you expect this behavior nor this kind of language from Spencer. 

He was pulling you out of your dazed thoughts as he was slowly rolling his hips into yours, cock nestled inside of your tight cunt.

It was almost as if you could feel every vein, every curve.. It was a sensation that you’d never actually felt before. Who knows, maybe you just paid extra attention because you’ve been dreaming of this moment. 

Those slow thrusts were soon upgrading to harder and faster ones, a cry of pleasure falling from your lips as your head hit the pillow behind you. The sounds of skin slapping together as well as the sinful sounds of squelching from your wet pussy and the moans, whimpers and cries falling from your lips were filling the bedroom.

Spencer continued to ram his cock into your tight hole, a thin shine of sweat on his forehead as he was relentlessly fucking into you. The feeling of your warm, plushy walls convulsing around him was enough for his cock to twitch. He was close and so were you, both of your bodily reactions being dead giveaways. 

As your cunt squeezed tight around his cock, your nails were digging into the shirt he was wearing as you let your eyes screw shut, your creamy cum slowly sliding down his cock and surely making a mess of the sheets while he was giving a few more hard thrusts before shooting long ropes of cum inside of you, surely coating your cervix in the process. 

With a few more sloppy thrusts to ride out both of your orgasms, it wasn’t long until his body was collapsing on top of yours. As he tried to pull away though, your legs were tightening around his waist. “Wait.” She whispered, her head tilting back. “Wanna feel you inside for a little bit longer.” She blabbered out, grip loosening as Spencer couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you wanna go out to dinner with me tomorrow night?” 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

[heron-knight]

we've got stories where mech systems take over every part of your mind, but what if the opposite happened?

They won’t tell you outright, but this wasn’t supposed to happen. The first time the interface slides into the back of your skull and they fire up the link, they expect it to flood your mind with static and hollow it out. They expect it to tear across your brain like a wildfire in less than a second, the code of every system in the frame carving out your “self” to make space for themselves, leaving you nothing but a weapon. The data should have filled every neuron. Torn out everything except what you need to survive. Instead, when they pressed the button, it did the reverse. Your mind flowed outward through the cables, coating every circuit board with your conscious self. It was like nothing else, when suddenly, your mind had more space then you knew what to do with.  The process was supposed to make you a weapon. Instead it made your weapon you. Even as you fly into combat at mach 5, it’s as if all the time in the world is in between each moment, your brain, now the size of the enormous computer that was supposed to replace it, solves each problem automatically almost as soon as you notice it. Like throwing a deck into the air and seeing it land as a house of cards, only you can feel yourself moving each card into place before it hits the table. All your worries, fears, each issue that sits in the back of your mind, buried under everything else you need to do but still filling you with an overwhelming sense of dread-- all are drained from your subconscious and spread before you for you to see. It all makes sense now, now that you're not trying to fix your problems from inside the brain that’s buried in them. It’s still all there at once, but now you don’t drown in it. It’s not too much to handle anymore. You can feel each piece of the machine as your awareness travels down through the wires, from the CPU to the limbs as the pistons whir like a heartbeat and your four arms grip their weapons with nanocarbon fingers that you can feel each movement of. Each impact of the gun’s recoil sending an energy that you know every aspect of through the frame like a Newton's cradle. Several tons of metal making barely a sound as you dash across the battlefield. No slow, clanking steps for you. This is your body, and it’s under your control to a greater extent even than the one whose arms operate the controls out of muscle memory and nothing else. The mech acts on your command before you even press the button.  It’s still you because it never stopped being you. You still stop to examine the scratches of the walls of the base. Still stare at the sky because nobody could tell you that you can’t. Still insist on meals in the cafeteria instead of intravenously, even if you have to bring your own “food” because you can’t digest what they serve everyone else. You end up at the infantry tables most of the time, as the other pilots don’t eat in the cafeteria and the handlers aren’t actually great at talking to people unless there’s a direct order involved (and they said that the pilot was the one that loses their personality.) Every day you hear someone refer to you by something new. Hero of 100 Battles. Panopticon. The One That Stayed Sane. Just like when you overwrote the mech AI that day, you fit these names as well as the frame’s CPU. perhaps you always did. All you needed was more space in your mind.

[ephie-om]

It's December 1st which means I get to go insane courtesy of @om-adventcalendar! Also my first piece of writing that needs content warnings. Pls enjoy xo

Song: First - Cold War Kids

CW: Gore, violence, vomiting, panic attack

Day 1: Lucifer

Lucifer hurtled through the sky, black feathers streaming into the air. His eyes blurred from tears, he could see almost nothing but his own blood flying up from him. He strained to make out any sound, but all he could hear was the deafening wind.

He crashed into the ground. Bones shattered at the impact, and the breath was ripped from him. He tried to scream, and no sound came from his mouth. He tried to move, but all the weight of what he had done pressed into him. No muscle would move a single inch.

Why was it so quiet? He was sure they had followed, he had seen it with his own eyes. Shouldn't there be screaming? Even thunder from the wrath of the heavens above him, was strangely absent.

Tears flowed freely from his face. Where had they gone? What had been done to them?

Where the fuck were his brothers?

His legs launched himself up on instinct, arms and wings scrambling to find purchase as his bare back slams against a wall with a thud. Fuck, he could still feel the pain.

It was a nightmare, he knew it had to be. Centuries of waking up screaming and it hurt no less. His chest heaved as he clawed for air. The smell of blood and fresh soil that his broken body had plowed up stuck to his nostrils. His lungs shot through with pain every time he inhaled, but he forced himself to keep breathing. If nothing else, just to remind him that he could.

His heart finally began to slow, and he felt the familiar nausea begin to overtake him. He stumbled to the bathroom on shaky legs and vomited into the toilet, stomach heaving again and again until only bile dripped from his lips. His knees gave way and he dropped to the cool tile floor, pawing for the lever to flush the toilet.

He should go back to bed, but he couldn't shake the feeling in the back of his mind that something wasn't right. The late-night silence was so oppressive. Just like it had been in the dream. It was too quiet.

His brain filled in the gaps with sounds of his brothers crying his name. Lucifer. They screamed it in rage, now, and his head pounded. He wiped his mouth and shakily got to his feet.

His legs took him away, out of his room and through the halls of the House of Lamentation. He was searching for something, though his conscious mind was not quite sure what. The soft carpet padded his footsteps, only adding to that suffocating silence. He stopped at a door, took the deepest breath he could manage, and entered.

A head of messy white hair peeked out from a blanket tossed haphazardly across the couch. Mammon was sprawled out in what looked like an incredibly uncomfortable position, but he was sleeping soundly. Lucifer walked over hesitantly, not relishing the thought of waking up his little brother.

Mammon's eyes cracked open, little rays of gold and blue peeking through. He jumped when he saw Lucifer, startled. “The hell are you doing? What does it take for a guy to sleep in peace?”

Lucifer opened his mouth to explain, but he found himself completely unable to get a single word out.

“Lucifer?”

He dropped his eyes, ashamed.

“Nightmare?”

He nodded.

“Shit.” Mammon fumbled for the blanket on the couch, draping it around Lucifer’s shoulders. He guided him to sit with a firm hand and dropped onto the couch beside him.

Lucifer cleared his throat and tried the sentence again. “Are they all here?”

Mammon frowned, confused.

“I couldn't feel you, any of you. I didn't know if you followed.”

Mammon finally understood. “Yeah, ‘course we're all here. You think we wouldn't follow you?”

Lucifer buried his face in his hands and Mammon rubbed his back.

“They're all safe. I checked on ‘em a couple hours ago. You got nothin’ to worry about.”

The tension in Lucifer's shoulders drained slowly and his breathing steadied. The warm hand on his back felt like a lifeline to reality. He was safe, and more importantly, his brothers were safe.

Mammon sighed and leaned back into the couch. “Like we're going anywhere. You couldn't get rid of us if you tried.”

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Replenish (Alec Volturi x Reader)

It had all happened too fast. Had you not been in the throne room, you'd have assumed you were hut by a truck or train. You were on the ground before you knew. Your only warning was a snarl, and everything happened so quickly you didn't get the reaction time. You felt the pain of the slam to marble ground, back muscles seizing and locking from impact.

Second came an icy grip stronger than steel...some hair. It brushed your face. Two needles forced their way through the skin if your neck and then more little needles followed in a circle. It felt like a sting that turned into a burn, a draining burn. A crunch and more pain, a numbness deep in her bones. A cold slick tongue lap at the skin.

The concept of time fading the nervendings in your body snapping like tiny fireworks, brain cells sparking, sending out colours, lights, images of memories, and dreams. All as quickly beginning to fade when the show is halted, they fall away to show the ceiling once more. The light of the torches dancing along the ceiling. Someone moved into sight.

Alec looked down at you passively, almost like he was looking through you until he cupped your face. He straddled your body, and you felt his weight on your stomach. "You're alright. I'll fix this. You'll be alright." He said softly. He leaned closer, his face looming over your own.

Red eyes coming into focus brighter than before. Red staining around the perfect curve of his mouth. Staining pale, unblemished skin. Alec looked as perfect as always, yet nothing short of monstrous.

Suddenly, he twisted your neck with his hands, and you felt your neck crunch under the force. A gurgled groan ripped through your throat. It wasn't right. The sharp piercing pain of your bones.

"Ah ah ah, it's okay. I know. Listen to me. I know, but physical pain is temporary. Let me tell you a story, hm? My sister and I used to play in the woods outside our home. I suppose to you, it'd look like a little hut made of wood, sticks, and mud. Very little of us had something with such stability as concrete. One day, Jane fell. The woodland has so many dips and bulges in the ground. Humans didn't have an impact on the greenery back then. Humans were like fawns back then, trying to find their legs-"

He suddenly yanked again, and their was another crunch and more sticking sensations into the vulnerable flesh deep in your neck. You cried out again and he hushed you before continuing.

"Twisted her leg. It wasn't broken, but she couldn't put her weight on it. My heart would flutter and jump in horror at that sound. Just another time the world was out to get us. I had the ability to make it all go away, if I tried hard enough. It wasn't easy but it was as strong as I allowed my will to be. With the touch of my hand, the pain would leave her. Not forever. But in that moment, I gave her time. I was special, but the story didn't end yet, not with me getting her help." He smiled. "An angel came to us. A guardian angel that had been watching us for a long time. I could see he wasn't like us. Too perfect. To ethereal. Like we were all tiny ants that he analysed for years and decided to reveal himself. He spoke with us and soothed us. Told us that one day, he'd give us a gift, but we had to be patient. That all of our pain and suffering would be worthwhile because something greater was in the cards for us. We just had to keep each other safe, and it'd be set in stone as good as. That our pain was gruelling but temporary." He paused. "Our gift was given a little premature from planned...but he was right, (Y/N)."

He yanked again. A crunch, more pain and then immediate relief, the pain fading. Your neck back in place. You let out a breath."I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bite you." His apology didn't sound entirely genuine. "Control is...a little difficult for me sometimes. Even at my age." He playfully smirked. "Lucky for you, you're gifted with cell regeneration, hm? You don't have to worry about death. Or maybe not so much lucky... you're still human. You don't know what it is to be free of humanity." He said. "You ought to stay still for a few hours until you're back to normal. Blood loss is a longer fix than a broken neck."

[kevlarcrack3d]

Oho what's this? I'm making Skullgirls headcanons?

I ain't kidding. Yes, I am. I actually have super mixed feelings about the many open-ended threads of lore in the game. I kinda like it because it allows me to make headcanons like this (ignore the Medici fuckup), but at the same time, I don't really think it had a good impact on the story. Lots of interesting stuff could be put there.

Without further ado, LET'S GO!

BEWARE OF LEWD: MILD/COMEDIC NSFW FOR THE LAST ONE!

Samson helps Filia pickpocket and steal credit cards. Samson also helps her gamble at the casino because Samson had gambler hosts. They do this sparingly, and they're pretty average. They prefer the lotto tickets.

Skullgirls world technology level is close to that of our current time in the 21st century. However, the uses and people's mannerisms are more of the 40's with many tweaks for the rule of cool.

Speaking of tech, Brain Drain is an AI bro, the sort who screams, "AI ART IS REAL ART AAAAA," and gets into fights over it. Valentine is neutral on AI. Dr. Avian is also pro-AI, but is ethical and knows the limits and challenges. Brain Drain types out whole text messages about AI and instigates LEGENDARY arguments among the labs.

Irvin fights in an ambidextrous manner like Revy from Black Lagoon (can't help it - his two guns remind me of her). Many chicks dig him because TALL, DARK, AND MYSTERIOUS IS VERY HOT 🥵😭🍑💖🔥🔥🔥.

After Umbrella's story mode, Parasoul heard of Filia and Carol's plight and arranged them to have certain support and properties under the proper officials. Filia and Carol now live together and will be having scholarships for college.

Aside from working for the Anti-Skullgirl labs, the previous squads of the Last Hope participated in King Franz's war campaigns. In this headcanon, the SG world has a rule like ours that states combat medics shouldn't be shot at. King Franz took advantage of this and used these squads for biological warfare and effective surprise attacks.

Double also supported herself in the human world as an actress. She was always bitchy and mean to Annie, Selene, Eliza, and literally every celebrity that breathed in her face in that disguise. She was the number 1 drama instigator in their media. Every damn time, there would be something wild popping out about her.

Albus (the bodyguard of Eliza that looks like Anubis) is not a jackal but a black dog feral. This is based on how Anubis may not really be a jackal but a Pharaoh hound (I love long-faced dogs they're sooooo cute 🥺).

The first head of the Medici family had Leviathan as his host. He enjoyed art and music and gave Leviathan as a gift to the Contiellos. He once had the life gem, so when he took Leviathan from his body, he didn't die. (My most preferred one. The other have this head be Lorenzo's parent or boss). This head was more pragmatic than Lorenzo, though, and preferred to be stealthy and smart. He was also more of a fighter, too. Lorenzo is the more hedonistic, narcissistic, flamboyant one who likes being on the front pages of magazines like Bugsy Siegel and buying expensive stuff.

Since Leviathan stated that he and Samson were present before the Skull Heart, then I'll make this headcanon - parasites have been around since the prehistoric ages. Once humans, ferals, gigans, elves, dagonians, etc. grew more complex and the parasites began spending more time with them, that was when they learned to talk in their languages and articulate their ideas as such. Parasites always had complex minds and were able to form long-term memories, they just didn't know how to articulate them until they crossed paths with civilization.

Ferals procreate like the Mink Tribe in One Piece. When the parents are two different species, the kid may come out as another species that isn't their parents'. Same with Dagonians. (One thing I noticed is that these two races in Skullgirls remind me of the Minks and Fishmen in One Piece).

Cerebella didn't attend school. She was homeschooled and trained by the mafia since day 1.

Not my headcanon, but I support it. Beowulf is actually very smart. Has actually taken PhDs and loves to read. Aside from having side roles as the big bad wolf in Annie's show, he is a librarian. He also used these smarts in the ring, where he'd calculate his strikes.

When simply patrolling, The Last Hope also gives medical treatments for free.

Peacock also watches cartoons in the Skullgirls equivalent of Adult Swim. She does prefer the sillier, kiddy ones, though.

Parasoul likes Annie of the Stars because that was her comfort media. Ever since her father started his wars, ever since she was training to be a worthy queen, especially after her mother died, Parasoul deep down looked up to Annie's lessons of standing up for good, never giving up, and protecting the innocent. Though being a real-life head-of-state has more complexities, deep down, Parasoul would always love Annie, her inspiration.

The one with the real political power in Canopy Kingdom is actually a prime minister. However, the Renoir family will always find a way to have the final say if the situation calls for it.

New Meridian is actually like what Hong Kong is to China. It's considered separate, but the Canopy Kingdom has a degree of dominance over it.

The reason why Queen Nancy was a very powerful Skullgirl was, aside from the wish she made to stop the wars and the fact that she was in a warzone most likely filled with dead warriors, especially powerful ones, the umbrella Todd had something to do with it.

Big Band once played gigs at nightclubs to support himself in police academy. He had to be very careful because many of those nightclubs were run by the mafia, and it's not just the Medici Mafia.

When not angry, Carol/Painwheel likes to fly around with the Buer Drive. No thoughts, head empty, just fly around wheeeee ✈️.

If told to draw, Robo Fortune cannot draw hands (a jab at some AI art engines drawing hands so badly). She can't even trace a hand on a paper for whatever reason, and it's driving Brain Drain mad.

The second person in Fukua is actually Shamone on her head. Regarding the two people used to create her, the warrior good at close combat was actually Delilah - Brain Drain actually found an artifact confirmed to be Delilah's and it was fortunate that it had her DNA stuck on it. The assassin who specialized in ranged combat was one of Black Dahlia's best bunny girl assassins.

Taliesin can master any stringed instrument in a short period of time ( the longest is like 2 weeks) except for piano.

There is a pro-Medici Mafia series super beloved in New Meridian, which I could see as their equivalent of "the Sopranos." It's called "My Outlaw Darling." It's a live action just in case some of you think it's animation like My Little Pony or My Dress-up Darling because of the title reference. Bad - or maybe good hehehehe 😊 - news: it's very smutty, risqué, sexy, and 🍑 PASSIONATE ✨️. Embarrassingly, Lorenzo was walked in on many times doing "self-love" to the dirty scenes, particularly the ones between men for whatever reason. IDK, he's bored. This series gets on the Renoir's nerves. Since King Franz isn't really doing much in public, if he uses his TV as background noise, once he hears the "My Outlaw Darling" opening song, he has to stop himself from smashing the TV if he's doing something that requires him to keep sitting down. Peacock also hates it and actually gets up to fire lasers at the TV once she hears the theme! She and her gang have a joke about the airing time of the series where they call it "the witching hour."

Regarding the sexual nature of "My Outlaw Darling," I don't know why it isn't called "OutLewd" 🤔.