#brevity is not bad. please

[winters-orbit]

One thing about discourse on this website is that sometimes I’ll read these hugely long posts and by the end I still don’t understand what point y’all were trying to make.

[lost-in-fandoms]

This is inspired by my own post. Don't even look at me.

It's a long shot, and Daniel is perfectly aware of it as he rides the elevator up to Max's room, but he refuses to think too hard about it, afraid he will reconsider the sanity of it and turn back.

You see, they used to have this...thing, back in the day. It didn't happen often enough to give a name to it, but when Daniel got pole or won a race, Max would find him and get on his knees for him.

It had started in 2016, Max fresh faced and wide eyed, pulling him into the bathroom of the club they were in. Not in Monaco, not even Max was bold enough for that, but in Malaysia. It had been hot and wet, and Daniel had tangled his fingers in Max's sweaty hair, pulling hard enough to make tears spring in his blue eyes, before coming down his throat.

Their thing had always been one way only. Max had been the one getting on his knees, and Daniel had never offered to get him back. It had been a relief, when Max had started winning more than him, he didn't want to owe blowjobs that often. Not that Max would have hold him to that if Daniel didn't want to, but it would have been a matter of pride, and justice, or whatever.

Daniel has spent a lot of time in the last couple of years thinking about it. Not much about the act itself, even if he has gotten off to the memories of Max's mouth more times than he can count, but about the whole concept of it. He had started wondering if it had been Max's first (debatable, kid had been too sure of himself, but again Max always was), if Max had wanted more (probably, he had seen the looks he would get on his face sometimes), why Max had never tried to talk to him about it. Why Daniel, arguably the more mature of the two, hadn't done it. If Max still thought about it too. If he thought about it as much as Daniel did.

The last time they had done this it had been Monza, in 2021. Max had shoved in his motorhome, flushed and furious, and had sucked Daniel off with such a passionate drive it had felt like maybe he was trying to get Daniel's soul too. Or like maybe he was trying to suck Daniel's P1 out of him through his dick. It had been one of the best blowjobs of his life, had left him dazed and panting on the couch while Max had bit out a congratulations and stormed out again, his shoulders just marginally less stiff.

And now Daniel is in front of Max's door, with a P5 that feels like a P1, feeling like he's going to be taking a step right out of a plane.

He hears shuffling when he finally knocks, and it's only when he hears Max open the door that the uncertainty hits him in full force. He has not thought this through at all. Or well, he has, just not further than this. How do you ask someone "hey it's been almost three years but I would like to cash in a blowjob"??

Max looks...soft. He has a pair of sweats on, one of his white tshirts, hair freshly washed and unstyled. The blank expression and small polite smile he's sporting when he opens the door, as if he was expecting to have to send someone away, immediately morph into a blinding smile when he spots Daniel. It's always been so easy, at least for Daniel, to make Max smile like that.

"Daniel!" he says, eyes crinkling, moving to the side to let Daniel in without having to be asked.

"Hello, Max."

His room is fairly tidy, his luggage open in a corner with a few team shirts spilling out just as it had always been, but the blankets on the bed are all askew, a comfy little nest around Max's open laptop.

"Am I interrupting something?" Daniel asks, motioning towards it. He never knows when Max is working, watching something, or playing with his friends, but he hopes it's nothing important. If it's something important and Max sends him away, Daniel knows he will never find the guts to do this ever again.

"No," Max starts, then turns, smiling more, "well, yes. I was watching Lando's onboards. But they are not important now."

It hits him unexpectedly hard, the casual acknowledgement that Daniel's presence is more important than whatever Max was already planning for his evening. It's nothing new, but it's been a while since Daniel has felt it, the way Max loves him so simply. Since he has felt deserving of it.

Something must show on his face, because Max's smile turns soft as he sits down on the couch near the window, patting the space next to him for Daniel to join him.

"Why are you here?" From anyone else, it would sound rude, but Daniel has been used to Max's bluntness since day one, misses it sometimes these days, now that he's a little more careful with it, so he knows Max only means exactly what he's asking.

Daniel also knows this could be the moment to bring it up, his request, but it feels wrong to just barge in on Max's evening, get an orgasm and leave. Back then he would have done it, but they're both different people now.

"I wanted to see you, Maxy," he says, aiming for joke and hitting fond instead. It's not a lie, but the way Max goes all pink and pleased feels too dangerous for his heart, so Daniel redirects. "P2, yeah?"

It's enough to set Max off, talking about corners and turns and steering and this car. Not my car, Daniel notes. He's not surprised by the difference, but he wonders if Max means to make it so obvious, how he feels about this year's car. Or maybe Daniel is just really versed in Max-speak.

He also notices the tension around his eyes a couple of times, when Max mentions the team, and if it was another night he maybe would have asked; it never took much for Max to tell Daniel things, especially when he was unhappy about something. But today he got P5, and something about the blush growing on Max's cheeks as he gets more and more animated, making his eyes looks even more blue, firmly sets him back on jumping off the plane and send it plans.

He waits for Max to slow down a little, then nudges his calf with his foot, enjoying the way Max immediately reacts by jabbing a finger into Daniel's side, tension disappearing from his face.

"P5 is not P2, but it's still pretty good, right?"

Max's smile is his best one yet, all bright and proud as he nods, reaching for Daniel again to squeeze his shoulder.

"Of course, you have been very good today, Daniel! I am glad you are again feeling the car right."

Always so sweet and earnest. If he hadn't already teared up a little before press, face hidden in Blake's shoulder, Daniel would have probably done it now. As it is, he just smiles back, lets Max talk through his lap, quietly pleased by the knowledge that Max had obviously watched his onboard already, before Lando's. Maybe, if he dares to hope it, even before George's.

It's probably that, feeling like he's still important to Max, what gives him the confidence to throw things into motion.

"Feels like a P1, mate."

For a split second, he doesn't know what to expect. Will Max understand what he means? Maybe Max has not been thinking about their past times together, maybe saying P1 will mean nothing to him, maybe he will just go on another rant on how different P1 is of course from P5. Or maybe he will understand Daniel, and he will just slide off the couch and onto his knees, and Daniel won't have to say anything else.

Max, obviously, because he's Max, does neither thing.

His expression changes, something focused and pinched, as he tilts his head a little and stares at Daniel, lips slightly pursed.

"You want to feel like P1?" he asks. To someone else it would sound like a perfectly normal question, but Daniel knows that Max has understood, because somehow Max always gets him, even now. He also knows that he will not get out of this without talking about it at least a little. They're both different people, he has to remind himself. He's not the only one who's changed.

He nods, because he's not one to go back on his steps when he's already decided to send it, but he doesn't say anything else.

Max still looks deep in thought.

"We..." he starts, then immediately changes trajectory, "I can. If that is what you want."

As if Daniel might have walked all the way over without wanting this, without wanting Max. He nods again, watches as Max shifts a little, eyes flicking down to Daniel's lap, then to his own hands. His ears are red.

"Why now?" he blurts out, fingers twisting together. "You have of course got P5 before, but you have never come to me."

For a second, Daniel feels breathless with the knowledge that this whole time, Max would have been willing. This whole time, he could have asked and Max would have said yes, even after all these years, even after his championships, even after 2022.

"It didn't feel the same," he answers, before adding in a whisper, a belated confession, "I missed you."

He sees the way Max's shoulders jolt, his head snapping up again, eyes wide and surprised. Daniel doesn't get it, they have said it before, but he doesn't get time to dwell on it before Max is smiling again, grabbing a pillow and gracelessly following it on the floor.

Suddenly, just from seeing Max on his knees, Daniel is half hard. No wanking memory could hold a light to the real thing, to Max, broad and solid and real.

He lets Max get his hands on his legs, spreading them gently and shuffling forward, fingers sliding up to his thighs. It's hard to swallow now, the air in the room suddenly heavy with anticipation.

"I have missed you," Max rasps, kneading at Daniel's legs, not even reaching for his waistband yet. "I have missed doing this for you."

Daniel closes his eyes, lets his head fall back, but he regrets it immediately when he realizes it means not looking at Max anymore. Max, who's now looking up at him, pupils blown and lips red. For a moment, Daniel wishes things were different, wishes this thing was one where they kissed too, where he got to drag Max in his lap and get to touch him, feel all the way he's different now.

"Up," is all Max says, breaking his dangerous train of thought, and Daniel just obeys, lifting his hips and letting Max take down his pants, leaving them pooled at his ankles.

He's sure he's imagining the sigh Max lets out, the way his fingers are trembling a little when they reach just barely inside his underwear, grazing the top of his thigh.

And then Max leans forward and licks over one of Daniel's tattoos.

The sound Daniel lets out is a mix of a yelp and a moan. He can feel the little shit smiling against his skin, right before he does it again, adding a bite at the end, followed by an apology kiss, and this too is different from how they used to do it, quick and dirty, straight to the prize. Daniel is not going to complain.

Max takes his time, kissing and licking his way up his tattoos, until his nose hits the side of Daniel's clothed dick, now well on its way to fully hard.

"Hello," Max whispers, like a nerd, flashing a cheeky smile up at Daniel, who's tempted to swat at him until Max opens his mouth and wraps his lips around the head of his cock, underwear and all.

Daniel barely has time to squeak out a curse, hips bucking up in surprise, before Max steps back, smile gone. When he looks up again, he looks so intensely hungry Daniel struggles to swallow, and for his next revelation of the day, he understands that the gangly and overenthusiastic teenager who had drooled all over his dick in a club in Malaysia must have gained quite a lot of experience since then.

He refuses to analyze how that makes him feel, at least for now.

Max doesn't waste any more time, luckily, since Daniel is now hot and straining, making quick work of Daniel's boxers and of putting his mouth on him. For a second, with Max's lips around his tip, Daniel gets thrown back in time, and maybe things are not so different after all. Then Max takes a breath and sinks all the way down.

"What the...shit!" Daniel swears, scrambling for something to hold onto and finding Max's shoulders, as his brain goes completely blank, fuzzy with static and pleasure.

Yes, Max has definitely gotten more experience, because what the fuck is this. He's still enthusiastic, moaning and drooling around Daniel, tongue swirling as if his dick is some sort of delicacy, but the technique is different now. It's like he graduated in cock sucking or something, like he's trying to prove he's not only a racing champion, but a sex champion, or maybe like he's trying to kill Daniel. Or all three together.

Daniel knows he's being loud, moans and swears tumbling from his lips without hope of being restrained, but it seems to only spur Max on, as he fucking deepthroats him again with no sign of gagging. What the fuck.

"Max, Maxy, babe," Daniel tugs at Max's hair, struggling to string enough words together to let him know that, embarrassingly, he's already close, but all that does is make Max moan, the vibration of it feeling like sparks up Daniel's back.

Luckily, Max seems to still get the message though, because he lets up a little, gently suckling at Daniel's tip, pressing a kiss to it before pulling back completely to look up at Daniel.

He's like a vision, cheeks red and eyes bright, mouth spit slicked and a bit swollen, hair falling on his forehead, and Daniel's desire to kiss him comes back in full force. Again, almost as if he was reading it on Daniel's face, Max stops that particular train of though.

"Can I swallow?" Max asks, voice rough, as if it is a totally normal question and not a way to make Daniel feel like he's going to die on the spot.

"Do you want to?" Somehow, Daniel's voice is worse than Max's, all breathy and fucked up, and he can see Max being pleased about it. Menace.

"I always want to."

Max always used to, even back then, but Daniel had never questioned if it was because he thought that was how it was supposed to be or because he wanted to. Having the answer now is devastating. He groans, letting his head fall back and nodding weakly, hoping Max will just have mercy on him and finally kill him, but it doesn't seem good enough for the other, who reaches up to grab Daniel's chin, gently but firmly pulling his head back down.

"Yes?"

Daniel is acutely aware he had never explicitly asked for consent before, and neither had Max.

Things are different now.

"Yes."

It doesn't take long after that, Max throwing himself back into it like a man starved, and Daniel falling apart under him, unable to control his hands, his hips or the volume of his voice. He swears Max moans when Daniel finally comes down his throat, shaking and twitching as Max sucks him through it. He's still dazed and out of it while Max helps him back into his clothes, fondly patting his dick before tucking it in, and he can only watch as Max hauls himself to his feet again, wincing slightly, and dropping back on the couch next to Daniel.

"Good?" Max asks, because he's a nerd and a little shit.

Daniel limply hits him with his eyes still closed, feeling himself smile in response to Max's laugh.

This is different too, he distantly thinks. Usually it was Max coming to him, and he would always leave immediately after, never hanging out for Daniel's comedown. Now, when he finally opens his eyes, Max is curled up next to him, still looking flushed and happy. Still obviously hard.

Things are different now, Daniel reminds himself, checking with himself for a second as he reaches forward to tap on Max's knee.

"Want help with that?"

[dirt-str1der]

1998 trigun literally wins because i was terrified that it would only be stampede and i was preemptively crying and hugging myself then the haul

[neil-gaiman]

This may very well get lost in the flood, but if you see this, I just wanted to say that there were a lot of things I thought I wanted for good omens 2 (a happy ending for one, of course!)

But my favourite thing that a writer can do to my experience of a story is to make me go "okay forget EVERYTHING I said before, this is the outcome I didn't know I needed." This show took my hopes and said "no u don't actually :) i got something better" and it had the audacity to be SO RIGHT.

The finale I *thought* I wanted would have probably had me giggling and kicking my feet and then moving on with my day while in a bright mood for a bit.

The finale I got had me absolutely devastated, inconsolable for maybe an hour, and then just...immediately rewatching. And talking about it behind a fortress of spoiler tags. And writing, and drawing, and being invested in theories and trying to find all the easter eggs and just...falling in love with the story and the characters all over again. And I can tell that feeling will stay with me for a whole lot longer than a couple days.

I'm bad at brevity, I apologize! This is just a very long-winded way to say thank you (and thank you to everyone else on the team) for giving us these idiots (affectionately) to have Way Too Many Feelings about!! Thank you for sharing them with us.

I'm running GO in the background, crossing my fingers and looking forward to a season 3—whether or not it'll be what I'm *hoping* for, I am just beyond excited for whatever story it is that you want to tell us, and I trust that whatever it is, it will be wonderfully told! 🩶🩶

(But also, please, for your consideration...I am in fact soft and innocent, I can only take so much damage before I cry myself to critical dehydration—do with that what you must, I shall leave my electrolyte balance in your hands and hope for mercy. You did say everything would be okay, and thankfully we all know a writer would never lie!)

I wouldn't lie about that, anyway.

[hazelfoureyes]

Ok I need a Lucifer x Reader fic based on Griftwood by ghost pretty please ( just listen if you haven’t heard it you’ll understand)

Listen, I went the opposite direction I think you wanted? Lol gonna work on brevity and get more snack sized smut out on weekdays and entrees on he weekends

[Warnings/Promises: snack sized, Lucifer x GN!AngelReader, lil smut smut, Fuck Sera, Luci corrupts absolutely, all hail dat dick, sacrilegious as fuck]

🫸🏼minors DNI🫷🏼

Lucifer avoided the heavenly embassy for obvious reasons. The vast halls, the empty and useless pews, it was, in a word, 

“Creepy,” He hissed. 

He was surprised to find the reception desk manned. Very rarely did heaven actually send anyone down to hell. Oh, wait.

You were stunned already to see Lucifer, so when he poked your nose you let out a tiny squeal.

“Oh shit! You’re real!” Lucifer took a step back, “Sorry about that! Not used to an … actual person.” He gave a little bow, “Forgive me?”

The fact is no one wanted to go to hell for desk duty, so the job was actually a punishment reserved for the most misbehaved. You had to intentionally set fire to Sera’s robes to get that severe of a scolding. She was reluctant, but it had been threatened (promised) to you last time you (intentionally) caused trouble. Rumors were abuzz about Lucifer, and you just had to see for yourself what the Great Big Boss of Hell was like.

Rosey cheeks, bright sharp smile. He didn’t look as scary as you had imagined. You expected a seven foot eight inch tall behemoth with fire pouring from his mouth and blood stained horns.

The devil, the real one, looked quite sweet.

A tiny existential crisis washed over you. Maybe there was a reason they didn’t want people down here. Why they made it sound oh-so-terrible.

“You still in there?” He leaned over the counter, tapping at your forehead. Your hands flew up, capturing his finger and bringing it down.

Warm. 

He froze, a little shocked you would touch him. Your smile went crooked, cheeks blushed. 

“Uhhh you good?” He pointed with his free hand to where you still gripped his finger. You nodded, a hum of confirmation. The blush rose up until you were fully red in the face.

The realization struck Lucifer like heavenly lightning, “Oooh, I see what’s going on here.” A wicked smirk taking you by surprise. “Did you want to meet me, little one?”

You broke out into a sweat, “Yes.”

Lie! Why didn’t you lie?!

He leaned over the counter, “Did you do something bad to get sent here?” Was there fire behind his eyes?

Uneven breaths, “… yes.”

Lucifer’s knee came up and over as he crawled onto the desk, “Should the King of Hell reward you for such bad deeds?” His eyes had gone red now, your hand still on his finger.

Your knees began to shake, “Y-yes.”

His face was inches from yours when your legs gave out, both of you falling to the floor.

Horns tall, yellow pupils dilated as he straddled you. “I think you’ll find I’m a generous ruler.”

It made sense. As Lucifer bent you over the reception desk and fucked you from behind, you could completely understand why they made this job posting sound horrid. Heaven would be empty if every winner could freely interact with Lucifer. You’d damn humanity too, if that was the cost. His hips snapped against your ass with divine determination, sweet praises on his forked tongue. 

The sounds of your gasps and his skin on yours echoed through the pristine white and gold halls. Like a pastor giving his sermon, he made the most delicious promises as you bent at the altar. 

Could heaven hear you? Your chants of “God, Oh God,” shifting to, “Lucifer! Luci—fer”, when one of his hands came down, fingers stroking your heat?

“What do you pray for, my curious Angel?” He growled, a flame you couldn’t see licking past his lips. “I’ll grant you anything”

Your cheek was sliding across the marble, small line of drool smearing on your face. Claws raked down your back, the stimulation making you shake.

Your fingers reached for his thighs, failing to take purchase. Lucifer took both of your wrists in one hand and held them at the small of your back for leverage. Your legs bent up, toes curling as you came around his sweetly punishing cock.

Taking a few deep breaths, you rolled your hips back against him, “More.”

Lucifer laughed and lifted one foot onto the desk to add more force behind his thrusts, “Say please.”

am I too horny? No. No, the cardiologist is wrong.

╭──────༺♡̶༻──────╮ Masterlist ╰──────༺♡̶༻──────╯

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list): @cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , fizzled-phoenix , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @fjorjestertealeaf , @pansexual-opera-house , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @roxxie-wolf , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @phobophobular , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @surusurusuru , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum , @ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot

[bonefall]

⭕️Hey Bones! Is it ok if you explain and/or elaborate how Crowfeather is abusive to Breezepelt if please?⭕️

I do KNOW that crowfeather is indeed, abusive to Breezepelt, due to the fact that he emotionally and/or physically neglected him - with child neglect being known to BE a form of child abuse - and I also heard that he slashed and/or hit him within one of the books, which I believe is in the book Outcast, in chapter 16.

But I also wish people would talk and be informed about it more within the fandom, because in the parts of the fandom I’ve known portrayed Crowfeather’s neglect on Breezepelt as negative and bad, but not in a way that made me think and/or feel: “Wow, that’s pretty bad. That’s…actually abusive.” I suppose? So I hope more people will talk about it more in that type of way.

Also, please be aware that I have NOT read PoT, OoTS, etc. or barely any warrior cats books, since the majority of the information I got from the series is from the wiki and the fandom, so that probably explains why I didn’t know this part of Crowfeather’s character is as bad as it actually is until now. Also, feel free to talk about Crowfeather’s abuse on Breezepelt I haven’t mentioned and/or don’t know right now as well if you want.

I’m SO sorry that if this ask is unintentionally quite long, and feel free to make sure to take all the time you need to answer it. Thank you!

OH LET'S GOOOO

Breezepelt is both physically and emotionally abused by Crowfeather. I'm not talking about only child neglect; he is screamed at, belittled, and even once hit on-screen.

The fact that Crowfeather both neglected and abused him is very important to the canonical story of Breezepaw. There's actually a lot more to this character than people remember! Even from his first appearances he displays good qualities, a strained relationship with his father and adult clanmates, and is clearly shown to be troubled before we understand why.

As many problems as I have with the direction of Breezepelt's arc (especially Crowfeather's Trial), his setup is legitimately a praiseworthy bit of writing from Po3 which carries over into OotS. To say that Breezepelt was not abused is to completely miss two arcs worth of books SCREAMING it.

BIG POST. Glossary;

INTRO TO BREEZEPELT: The Sight and Dark River

ABUSE: Outcast, Social Alienation, the Tribe Journey.

DARK FOREST: How these factors push him towards radicalization.

For "brevity," I'm not getting into anything post-OotS. I'm just showing that Breezepelt was abused, the narrative wants you to know that he was abused, and that his status as a victim of child abuse is CENTRAL to understanding why he is training in the Dark Forest.

INTRO TO BREEZEPELT: The Sight and Dark River

Our very first introduction to Breeze is when Jaypaw walks off a cliff in the first book of Po3 and is rescued by a WindClan patrol. He's making snarky remarks, and Whitetail and Crowfeather are not happy about it. Whitetail snaps for Crow to teach his son some manners, and Crow growls for Breezepaw to be quiet.

But our proper introduction to him is at his announcement gathering, when Heatherpaw playfully introduces him as a friend,

From the offset something's not entirely right here between Breezepaw and his father. He's cut off by Heatherpaw here, but he's touchy whenever his father is involved, and we're not entirely sure why.

Throughout Book 1, he's just rude, with a notable xenophobic streak. He's a bit of a mean rival character for Lionpaw, as they're both interested in the affections of Heatherpaw and make bids to get her attention, but nothing particularly violent yet.

He participates in the beloved Kitty Olympics and gets buried in liquid dirt with Lionpaw, basically a rite of passage for any arc.

(And Nightcloud has a cute moment where she watches over them until they fall asleep)

As the books progress, the relationship between Crow and Breeze visibly deteriorates. They start from being simply tense with each other in The Sight, to the open shouting and hitting we see in Outcast.

In the very first chapter of Dark River, we learn where his behavioral issues are really coming from;

Crowfeather.

Breezepelt is getting xenophobia from his father. Occasionally he says something bigoted and his dad will agree and chime in, and those are the only positive moments they have together.

(Note: In contrast, Nightcloud explicitly pushes back against xenophobia, chiding Breezepelt for his rudeness to Lionpaw in back in The Sight, Chapter 21. The Sight is the book where a lot of "evidence" that the Evil Overbearing Woman is actually responsible for the rift between father and son but. No. She's not. Though she can be overprotective; Crow and Breeze have a bad relationship when she's not even around in Breeze's first appearance and even his Crowfeather's Trial Epiphany refutes it. Anyway this post isn't about Nightcloud.)

So he starts acting on his bigotry, accusing cats in other Clans of stealing, running really close to the border. What's interesting though, is that this is not entirely his doing. The first time we get physical trouble from Breezepaw, DUSTPELT aggressed it. Breezepaw and Harepaw were just chasing a squirrel and hadn't yet gone over the border at all.

We learn that WindClan is teaching its apprentices how to hunt in woodland, and tensions between the two Clans is starting to escalate as ThunderClan isn't entirely trusting of their intentions.

The second time, fighting breaks out over him and Harepaw actually crossing the border and catching a squirrel. WindClan is adamant that because it came from their land, it's their squirrel. So it's as if Breezepaw is modelling the aggression around him, learning how to behave from the older warriors and his father.

When he joins Heatherpaw and The Three to go find Gorsetail's kits in the tunnels, he's grouchy towards the ThunderClan cats, but very gentle with the kittens. Notably so. When Thistlekit is dangerously cold, he cuddles up next to her, and even assures Swallowkit when she's scared,

Through this entire excursion, he's the one in the comforting roles for the kittens. Breezepaw is the one who is taking time to tell the kits they'll be okay, that he'll protect them, and physically supporting them when they're weak, even when he's terrified.

And it's always contrasted to Heatherpaw who's way more 'disciplined,' as a side note. It's a detail I'm just fond of.

All this to point out,

Breezepelt displays his best qualities when he's away from the older warriors of WindClan, and he's at his worst whenever he's near Crowfeather. Even while he's essentially just a bully character for The Three to deal with. He's gruff but cooperative when it's just him and Heatherpaw interacting with The Three, but mean when there is an adult to please.

We're getting to the on-screen abuse now, but Po3 actually sets up Breezepaw's troubles and dynamics well before it's finally confirmed that he is a victim of child abuse.

ABUSE: Outcast, the Tribe Journey.

In Outcast, Breezepaw's problems have escalated into open aggression towards cats of other Clans, and is now a legitimate concern for his own safety. Yet, he's spoken over by older warriors, and reprimanded at nearly every opportunity, right in front of the warrior of another Clan.

Squilf just asked the poor kid how his training was going, and then Whitetail JUMPS to talk over him so she can complain, RIGHT in front of his face.

They can't even wait until they're alone to grumble something rude about Breezepaw, who is still just a teenager here;

They taught him already that a bit of prey that runs off their own territory still belongs to WindClan, encourage him to blow past borders in pursuit, and started a battle with ThunderClan over this. And then they're pissed off at him for being aggressive, thinking it's deserved to scold him in public.

When Onestar announces that he wants Breezepaw to go on the Tribe Journey, he's devastated by it...

Because he thinks WindClan doesn't like him, and he's right. He's gossiped about, torn into in front of a ThunderClan warrior, and even his own dad doesn't want to be around him. It's clear that Breezepaw's impulsive "codebreaking" behaviors are a desire to prove himself, and once you realize that, the way that he's being alienated is heartbreaking.

But Wait!! Hold on a minute! Where did he get a "patrol of apprentices" from to confront the dogs with, exactly?

Simple. Breezepaw CAN make friends! He actually values them a lot! So much that it's the first thing Crowfeather snaps at him over, out of frustration that his son is also being forced on this journey with him. It's an angry response to his child having emotional and physical needs, resentment that will continue all journey long.

Note that it's plural, friends. Breezepelt has multiple friends, at least one who is not Heatherpaw, and she promises to say goodbye to them.

Up next, they state over and over, Crowfeather and Breezepaw do not like each other. Crowfeather resents being around him and dealing with his rudeness, embarrassed and angry, and Breezepaw is absolutely miserable being sent on a journey to the mountains with a man who hates his guts.

The whole while, Crowfeather is brooding longingly about Feathertail, already thinking about her as soon as he kitty-kisses Nightcloud goodbye, his eyes looking somewhere distant. He makes a jab about loyalty when Breezepaw doesn't understand why they're helping the Tribe.

Breezepaw gets smacked after he's "shoved" at Purdy and acts rude to him, while the other three manage to be polite (while still having internal dialogue about how stinky he is).

Without so much as a, "cut that out," Crowfeather raises his paw and hits him. Breeze is quiet after that.

I don't give a shit how rude your teenager is being. Do not hit kids. Being throttled on the head is not okay.

In spite of the Three not liking Breezepaw, or even Crowfeather, they're constantly noting that their arguments are not normal, and that Crow is a cold, unsupportive father who digs into his kid constantly, and the only time he ever DOES "discipline" his child it's through immediately smacking him.

At one point, the apprentices get hungry, and decide to foolishly hunt in a barn that they know has dogs in it against Purdy's warnings. Once again, JUST like the first two books, Breezepaw is more friendly when Crowfeather is not around.

EVERY time he is alone with cats his own age, he's grumpy but cooperative. Even enthusiastic at times! The minute Crowfeather is in the picture, he's nasty.

Naturally, the dogs show up, but Purdy rescues them. Though Brambleclaw also chews his kids out (and i have strong opinions about bramble's parenting style for another time), Hollypaw is taken aback by the contrast of what a scolding from Brambleclaw looks like vs how Crowfeather reacts.

The narrative is desperately trying to tell you that the way Crowfeather treats his son is not normal.

And then Crowfeather is pissed off that Breezepaw is exhausted from running for his life from hungry dogs,

And he's constantly losing his shit whenever Breezepaw says something as innocuous as "dad im hungry"

Then, Breezepaw is made to watch his dad pine over the grave of a woman who died long before Crowfeather was even considering his mother for a mate. What he feels is jealousy, because he knows his own father doesn't love him anywhere near as much as he loves the memory of Feathertail.

This really goes on and on and on. The ENTIRE trip is like this, with Crowfeather treating Breezepelt poorly, giving him a smack before even verbally warning him, pushing him past his limits and blowing up on him when he asks simple questions about eating or resting.

It all comes to a head in this one exchange, towards the end. Hollypaw ends up snapping at Breezepaw for his rudeness, before having an epiphany.

It's explicit. Crowfeather's emotional abuse, his "scorn" for Breezepelt, is what is driving a wedge between him and all of his older Clanmates. Between EVERYONE in Breezepelt's life who wasn't already his friend. This awful treatment is only making him worse and worse.

Realizing this, she has more sympathy for him, but it's too late. He continues to be rude to her because he feels insulted, and her patience completely runs out. She's just a kid. They're both just kids. She's not responsible for fixing him when he's pushing everyone away at this point.

That's the end of Breezepelt in Outcast. It can't be helped anymore. Any spark of friendship they had together in the barn, or in the tunnels, is gone.

As the series progresses, Crowfeather continues to refuse any personal responsibility for the mistreatment of his son, even pinning all of Breezepelt's behavioral problems on Nightcloud. He is a cold, selfish father who only ever thinks about his own pain and reputation.

DARK FOREST: How these factors push him towards radicalization.

Everyone talks about the Attack on Poppyfrost, which happens in the first book of OotS, in oversimplified terms. YES he is going after a nun and a pregnant woman. I've never said that's not Bad.

But no one talks about "WHY", and that reason is NOT just that he desires power like so many other WC villains. Breezepelt makes his motivation very clear on the page.

Escalating to violence was about making Jayfeather feel the way that he does.

When Breezepelt says that he wants Jay to be surrounded by "lies, hatred, and things that should never have happened," he's talking about the way HE grew up, knowing his father never wanted him, and that his Clan HATES him as a result. Killing Poppyfrost is about trying to frame Jayfeather for her murder, so ThunderClan won't trust him anymore.

When Jayfeather points out the simple truth that what Breezepelt is saying doesn't make any goddamn sense, his hatred "falters." He's blaming his half-clan half-brother for his own treatment because of the reveal, but totally failed to consider that JAYFEATHER'S ALREADY GOING THROUGH IT... so his response is just this pitiful, "s-shut up, man."

Then the ghost of Brokenstar and Breezepelt bounce him back and forth between them like a beach ball for a bit until Honeyfern's spirit shows up.

Breezepelt's childhood abuse and social alienation was a hook that the Dark Forest latched onto, to reel him in. His anger at his half-brother is so obviously misplaced that its absurdity was something Jayfeather pointed out.

We soon learn that it's the Dark Forest who's planting that ridiculous idea in his head;

The narration is SCREAMING, "The Dark Forest is validating the anger he feels towards his father, and redirecting it towards The Three." He's described as 'kitlike,' Tigerstar's eyes are compared to a hypnotizing snake.

This prose could not make it more obvious if it drove to your house, beat you with it, and then spoon fed you the point while you were hospitalized.

At the end of this scene, Tigerstar sends Hawkfrost to recruit Ivypaw. This scene where Breezepelt is being lovebombed, and the command to start grooming Ivypaw, ARE LINKED. That was a choice.

A VERY GOOD choice! Again, as many issues as I have with OotS, its handling of indoctrination is unironically fantastic, and it owes a good amount of that to the outstanding setup of Breezepelt that was done back in Po3. And that setup doesn't work if Crowfeather was merely distant.

Breezepelt was abused by his father, both verbally and physically. It drove him to be more aggressive to prove himself, modeling the battle culture around him. The adults of WindClan judged him based off Crowfeather's responses, shunning and belittling the 'problem' teenager, which eventually drove Breezepelt to the only group that he felt "understood" him.

In a book series that is RIFE with abuse apologia, this is one of the few times that there's any behavioral consequences for abuse and the narrative holds the perpetrator accountable for it.

But people hear Crowfeather's deflective excuse in The Last Hope where he says he never hated him, blames Nightcloud for everything, and just lick it up uncritically.

Gee whiz, I wonder why the guy who never blames himself for any of his problems would suddenly say it was his ex-wife's fault. Real headscratcher!

(Crowfeather's Trial then goes onto, for all my own problems with it, also hold Crow accountable as the reason why Breezepelt turned out like he did. But that's a topic for another day.)

[butchmiles]

03/07

New post for brevity’s sake! Good news and bad news friends: good news is I have a job offer and my wife is in correspondence with their recruiter about a new assignment!! Bad news is we won’t start work until Mid-April. So we need help for the month of April in the meantime

We’re looking to cover the following expenses:

Long term:

- Rent

- Phone and internet bill

Short term:

- toiletries and hygienic items

- transportations

- masks!!! (If anyone has any link to free or reduced prices please let us know)

Again please do not tag this as anything!! We need this in front of as many eyes as possible without the post being suppressed. Thank you

[zorossugarmama]

Jace x Cregan Headcanons

Part Three

There are lengthy talks about what kind of wedding the two would have. First there are the wedding traditions of the North. This is most preferable for Cregan. While Jace wants both a Targaryen wedding and a Valeryon wedding. Three weddings doesn’t sound that bad does it? Cregan would argue but Jace has enough support from both his houses to do it. 

After the war for the Iron Throne and its inherent succession, Cregan finds it hard to open up about a lot of things. He’d done unspeakable things during the war and a deep shame lies within his soul. Jacaerys tries to talk to him, to let Cregan confined in him, yet Cregan being a stubborn Northern relents. It causes fissures in their relationship and thusly, Jace is at an impasse. He doesn’t know what to do. This is the first time he has ever had problems with Cregan.

Conversely, Jacaerys has developed an insensitive side to his character. The war for the succession of the Iron Throne has hardened his stances on things he never thought would matter. Like those who can attend court, those who are allowed in the Red Keep, and more so who he aligns himself with. He’s taken on the Northerner say of ‘The North never forgets’ and has taken it further in cutting ties with most of the nobles in Westeros.

In this Jace also expects a certain brevity and harshness in court that he has built himself. In turn, he lashes out when his emotions and temper have been pushed too far. His mother, Rhaenyra looks on in worry. Yet, Jace, taking after Daemon, refuses to acknowledge this side of himself as wrong. To him, it is what needs to be done to maintain order and steadfast loyalty amongst his friends, family, court, and the people of Westeros.

Cregan, after the war, has taken up more time to hunt. Not in the way that allows him to release his emotions but rather run away from them. His guilt is so deep seeded into his soul that he fears that if he looks at them, feels them, or even acknowledges their place that they will consume him and turn him into someone who lacks the compassion and good will his mother saw in him at a young age. This rips at him and ultimately he goes down a path that he doesn’t know is a dead end.

Now with something more light! Jace, in another time, if war hadn’t waged its hateful hand across Westeros, he would have been innocent. However, Cregan knows this innocence isn’t really pure innocence. Only Cregan knows that while Jace may be innocent he takes everything in a dirty way. Jace can’t help it, but Cregan thinks its cute.

I'm pretty sure perfume is a thing in Westeros and Cregan would definitely wear way too much. It's a pleasant smell, burnt oak and musk, but you can smell him long after he's left the room. Cregan please use perfume normally! Hehehe.

Jace aside from being a good war tactician (and makes it his personality) he also has a habit of using his outfit of the day to customise his personality. One day he’s carefree like the casual outfits he wears while other times he’s so uptight like the formalware he wears in court or on special travels. He really just bases his personality on his outfits.

[wooyoong]

🧸 freya's recent bts reads (& recs)

disclaimer : there's atleast one fic for each member, but i am yet to widen my spectrum, so you will find less vmin + jin fics. that also doesn't mean i don't like reading them, lol.

note : fic titles labelled with a * mark are series. minors please stay away, strictly. almost all fics here are 18+ !!

— also, i am @sugarwithtea 😭 incase you wanted to check out my writing blog then.

KIM SEOKJIN

* 9 months to fall in love by @floralseokjin (s2l, accidental pregnancy au, 18+)

It seems like everyone around you is either already in love, or in the process of falling, and while normally you couldn’t give a damn, finding out the co-worker you’ve had a teensy crush on is dating someone else at the office seems to sucker punch you right in the gut. It’s stupid, and you’re irritated at yourself, but you can’t seem to shake out of the funk you’ve fallen face first in.

Feeling lonely and heartsore, and mad for no reason, during drinks with your best friend you spot a man at the bar. Tequila confident, you make your way over to the stranger, and successfully one thing leads to another. The next morning you leave before he’s woken up, feeling satisfied in one way, but still as discontented as ever. Telling yourself it was an inebriated mistake, you quickly try to forget about it.

Only, three weeks later that night comes back to haunt you – in a very unescapable way…

* For Love & Money by @jimlingss (s2l, forced marriage au)

For love, you foolishly lied to yourself. For money, you married a stranger.

MIN YOONGI

* Till Death Do Us Part by @colormepurplex2 (e2l, arranged marriage au, mafia au, 18+)

Marital bliss isn't always a guarantee, especially when you find yourself marrying into the family responsible for your own family's demise. Sometimes, marriage is just a game of kill or be killed. Even when there is love involved, bullets still hurt.

Sinful Lust by @oddinary4bts (ft. jungkook, threesome au, 18+)

in an attempt to spice up your bedroom life with your boyfriend Min Yoongi, you suggest bringing another man into the action. Yoongi seems reluctant at first, but when you mention his friend Jeon Jungkook, he can’t deny his attraction. All that’s left to do is to convince Jungkook into participating...

* The Truth Between Us by @jimlingss and @gukyi (e2l, multiple aus, 18+)

a book deal should be the most exciting time of your life, but there seems to be a constant and omnipresent damper on your mood in the form of a certain min yoongi, who you would just cut out from your life, if he weren’t your editor. but then, the world shifts beneath your feet, and you begin to wonder if maybe you’ve always been looking at life from the wrong angle.

* Playing With Fire by @/chanyeolly (ao3) (e2l, idol au, 18+)

Yoongi hates you. Or at least, he thinks he does.

AKA

Y/N works for BigHit and Yoongi is bad at dealing with his feelings.

JUNG HOSEOK

Brevity (But Most Often Not) by @threeletterslife (ft. jimin, s2?, psychopath hoseok)

All your life, you've been with guys who didn't bother to read the news or appreciate the art form of journalism. But Hoseok... Even the way he carefully chooses his words is a sign that you and he are a match. If only he weren't in a dilapidating psychiatric hospital. Then maybe you'd have a proper boyfriend who treated you right for once.

* Arranged by @obiwrites (ao3) (arranged marriage au, 18+)

If you thought entering an arranged marriage with the person you love would be a dream, you were in for a rude awakening. Jung Hoseok was far from the doting husband you’d dreamed of and most of it could be chalked up to the fact that he was in love with his best friend. And you are without a shadow of a doubt, not her.

But what happens when Hoseok starts to realize he doesn’t want you to be her? That there might be more than meets the eye with you?

Fake Love by @aquaminwrites (e2l, fake dating au, 18+)

Every year, your family spends the holidays at your parents’ cottage in the country. Freshly single and not wanting to be picked apart by your family for being alone, you decide to recruit one of your friends to pretend to be your boyfriend. The only available volunteer? Your brother Namjoon’s roommate, Hoseok. Only problem? He absolutely hates your guts.

* Jungle Park by @jimlingss (coworker au, amnesia au)

The equation is simple. Hoseok needs to hire someone. You need a job. Except like any actual equation, it’s not fucking simple at all! Not when you have to add the fact that he was forced to hire someone he doesn’t want in his office, he has little respect for your job in general, and oh yeah...once upon a time you might have—*CENSORED*.

KIM NAMJOON

Not Another Holiday Romance by @kpopfanfictrash (s2l, one night stand au, holiday au, 18+)

You, a perpetually alone (and utterly cynical) movie director, are sent to the town of Snow Falls, Middle-of-Nowhere for your latest film assignment. Stuck in holiday hell until the new year, you’re determined to get in and get out with minimal damage to your Grinch reputation. That is, until a ridiculously gorgeous (and young?!) town historian is assigned to help with your film. Suddenly, you find yourself the heroine of one of those corny romances you direct – and are discovering they might not be so corny after all.

* My Feet to Follow, and My Heart to Hold by @daechwitatamic (r2l, college au, 18+)

You know a lot about the many types of love thanks to Kim Taehyung. You love him as the only person you see as “family”, you love him as your very best friend, and you love him as the beautiful, funny man he’s become. But when a twist of fate during your senior year has you rooming with his good friend Kim Namjoon, you just might find that you have plenty left to learn about love. 

The Wedding Arrangement by @/sugalights (ao3) / @sugaurora (s2e2l, fwb au, 18+)

You are in love with your best friend, the only man who matters, Kim Seokjin.

Unfortunately, he's just gotten engaged to someone who isn’t you. Even more unfortunately, he expects you to help plan the wedding alongside Kim Namjoon, his other best friend and, based on your first meeting, just another judgemental jerk.

Putting aside your distaste for the sake of your friend’s happiness, you both set about giving Seokjin the wedding of his dreams. Following a rough and satisfying affair at the caterer’s, you strike an unusual deal: you and Namjoon will be enemies with benefits until the wedding is over. And after six months of wedding planning, you both just might learn that weddings aren’t usually the end, but a brand new beginning.

PARK JIMIN

* Maybe Me by @jiminrings (single dad au, s2l)

summary: maybe it’s stupid of jimin to take on everything at once, all by himself. maybe it’s rash of him to book a long-term stay at a luxury hotel, even if it comes with a family discount. but maybe, just maybe, jimin would have nothing to lose and everything to gain if he lets you in.

KIM TAEHYUNG

Always the Bridesmaid by @kookingtae (e2l, holiday au, 18+)

When you first meet Kim Taehyung, you’re determined to find every reason you can to hate him—or maybe he’s just looking for ways to get on your last nerve. But when a turn of events has the two of you working the wedding of the man you’re hopelessly in love with, you’re too late to realize the real reason to hate Kim Taehyung is because of the latest column he’s secretly writing: “Always the Bridesmaid, Never the Bride”, and it’s all about you.

JEON JUNGKOOK

* Take A Chance by @crystaljins (hanahaki au, coworker au)

You should have known the second your business partner asked you to plan his best friend’s wedding as a favour that it was going to be nothing but trouble. Especially when it turns out he’s in love with said best friend. And dying of a deadly disease because of it.

on the road (to you) by @cupofteaguk (f2l, road trip au)

as a young adult, one of the strangest revelations is the discovery that peers of yours from past fragile college years are getting married. so imagine your shock and excitement upon receiving a wedding invitation. there are, however, two problems: (1) you are a poor early-20s recently employed adult just beginning to adjust to your 401k plan, and (2) the only available ride to the wedding comes in the form of Jeon Jungkook—friend of a friend, attendee to that aforementioned wedding, and your old college crush. 

Sinful Lust by @oddinary4bts (ft. yoongi, threesome au, 18+)

in an attempt to spice up your bedroom life with your boyfriend Min Yoongi, you suggest bringing another man into the action. Yoongi seems reluctant at first, but when you mention his friend Jeon Jungkook, he can’t deny his attraction. All that’s left to do is to convince Jungkook into participating...

Accidental Roommates by @jjkeverlast (r2l, single dad au, 18+)

moving apartments is stressful and difficult enough as it is. all the planning and packing and multiple moments of rearranging furniture; all you crave is peace.

yet it seemed like peace was far within reach as the owner of the apartment had left out one tiny crucial detail from the ad — a ripped tattooed adonis, coupled, with a tiny baby daughter will come as your roommate.

Rivers Over Stones by @ichorai (e2l, godparents au, 18+)

you hated jungkook the minute you laid eyes on him. the only reason why he was still in your life was because you both shared a goddaughter, hana. but everything changed unexpectedly when the two of you become her caretakers and you’re forced to live under the same roof. suddenly, you find yourself hating him just a bit less. or more, but who’s keeping track?

* Ego by @suga-kookiemonster (s2l, fwb au, 18+)

what’s a girl to do when her sweet, innocent baby lab partner isn’t quite so sweet and innocent? well, he’s a grown-ass man, and you’re about to learn that the hard way.

🧸 given that a lot of authors are not active, please don't misuse their content! all rights reserved by the respective authors!!

— a bit of these have not been completed by me, leading to no feedback yet but i know these are good haha!

[riizegasm]

Soft as a Misty Rain || W. YX (Nicholas)

❀ pairing: &team nicholas x fem!reader

�� genre: exes to lovers!au, fluff, minor angst

❀ word count: ~3.3k

❀ warnings: explicit language, one very brief non-descriptive depiction of sex, nico is really bad at communicating, the weather as a metaphor for emotions

❀ summary: In the storm that hangs over your life, your ex appears like a lightning strike. As much as you hate to admit it, he softens the rain, allowing you to face clearer skies.

❀ a/n: At this point, I feel like I need to warn y’all that I write more than just angst. But I promise this one is not that bad!! Much more fluff than usual, which was hard for me, but I hope you enjoy it. As usual, likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated and encouraged.

masterlist

He comes to you in the rain. The tips of his hair drip water onto his face, sliding down the unblemished skin until they land on his fully soaked clothes. His faded Pink Floyd shirt sticks to his frame, highlighting every ridge of his abdomen. The normally baggy jeans he wears hang even lower than they usually do, their cuffs hanging in a puddle of his own creation. 

It’s a warm summer rain, the kind that appears out of nowhere and clears within the hour. Its brevity can’t outweigh its intensity, though, thoroughly soaking everything in sight. The flowers love it, basking in the brief respite from the intense August heat. The flower in front of you, however, is wilting from the power of the storm, soaked and shaking. 

“Nicholas?”

When he finally raises his head, letting his eyes meet yours from behind the inky curtain of his bangs, you can’t help but shiver. Despite the time apart, he has never lost the intensity in his gaze. It still throws you off kilter. It still has you wanting to hold him close and never let go. It still has your heart shattering. 

“I’m sorry,” the boy whispers. “I just…I didn’t know where else to go.”

You would have thought that in the eight months that you spent broken up, he would have found someone else. You always assumed there was someone else for him, another person to confide in, another shoulder to lean on, another hand to hold. Despite the hollowness of his cheeks and the paleness of his skin, it’s hard to believe that there was truly nowhere else for him to go. 

You don’t know which scenario is worse: that he had no choice, or that he chose you. 

Seconds tick by, announced by the rhythmic drip of raindrops onto the floor of the hallway. Outside, a crash of thunder booms, practically shaking the entire building. It’s only then that you are able to snap yourself out of your reverie, moving aside to let the man into your apartment. 

Making Nicholas comfortable is second nature to you at this point, despite losing months of practice. You shoo him into the shower and warm up a towel for him in the dryer. The old hoodie and pair of basketball shorts you haven’t managed to throw out yet are neatly folded and placed on the bathroom counter. It doesn’t even cross your mind to take in his figure behind the glass of the shower pane, blurred from the steam condensing on its surface. Instead, you turn the air conditioner down and begin to heat a kettle for tea, knowing how easily he catches a cold. 

It’s a dance you know every step to, despite not having performed the choreography in years. 

The second time he appears is with a flash of lightning, suddenly standing near the foot of the couch. His eyes are downturned once again, hair still wet and concealing his gaze. He seems content to stare at the floor, so you take it upon yourself to speak. 

“Tea?”

Nicholas’s voice is hoarse as he responds, eyes still glued to the wooden planks beneath him. “Please.”

You hate the way one simple word has shivers running up your spine. It’s just that one word that transports you back in time—hands tangled in black and blonde dyed locks, lips moving fervently against each other, hips meeting in a filthy grind, a simple word uttered from spit-slicked lips. That couldn’t be further from the word’s meaning here, yet your mouth is flooded with the stale taste of second-hand cigarettes. 

As the storm rages on, Nicholas clutches the mug of tea in his hands, fingers tightening around the ceramic at every new boom of thunder. The building shakes and so does he. You wonder if your touch would be enough to warm the boy to his core, to halt every shiver. But it’s only after a particularly loud thunderclap that you realize his shaking is not from a lack of warmth. It’s from his own storm that has begun to stream down his cheeks.

“Nicholas,” you whisper softly, as if not to spook a woodland creature, “what’s going on?”

The man lets out a strangled sob, clutching the mug even tighter. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t even be here, but fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

Nicholas sniffles, finally tearing his eyes away from the steaming cup in his hands. “I’m sorry for still being in love with you.”

.         .         .

Nine months prior

A flurry of kisses are placed all over your face, breaking your concentration from the book in front of you. You can’t help but giggle as your boyfriend’s assault continues, the man seeming determined to place a kiss on every inch of exposed skin. There isn’t much, as you have started to trade in your lighter fall jackets for thicker sweaters. Nicholas doesn’t seem to mind, though, tugging at your collar to expose even more of you. 

“Babe stop it!” You whine between puffs of laughter. “The story was just starting to get good.”

Your boyfriend just smirks, continuing to place his lips on any inch of you he can reach. “Don’t care,” he mumbles between kisses. “You look so cute when you’re concentrating.”

Nicholas was rarely shy with his affections. He was the type to constantly shower you in praise, return home with little gifts and trinkets for you, keep a protective hand around your waist at all times. Despite how shy he comes off at first, he is nothing short of extraverted in his love for you. In the years of you two dating, he has only gotten more bold in his proclamations of love, both literally and figuratively. 

“I love you,” he mutters, lips attached to a particularly sensitive patch of skin behind your ear. “You’re so cute. My pretty girl.”

The warmth of his breath tickles your skin, causing your entire body to sprout with goosebumps. The teasing pressure on the sensitive spot kickstarts your heart to pump a mile a minute, the heat encompassing your body comparable to the flames in the lit fireplace before you. Nicholas’s touch has rewired your inner workings to be constantly excited, constantly anticipating the pleasure to come. 

But nothing comes. Nicholas simply pulls away from you, a sweet smile on his face. 

“I’m going to go meet Yuma for lunch. Do you want me to bring anything back?”

You smile, shaking your head softly. “Have fun, though. Tell Yuma I said hi.”

“I will.”

Nicholas leaves a lingering kiss on your forehead before pulling away completely. You can’t help but watch with a fond stare as he flits about the apartment. It’s endearing to watch the furrow in his brow and the way he worries his bottom lip with his teeth. Only a few moments later, he deems himself ready to go, calling out one last goodbye as he disappears through the door. 

When scanning the damage he left behind on his way out, your eye is caught by the bright green of the clock displayed on the microwave. 4:37 pm, it reads. You can’t help but be confused. 

A little late for lunch, isn’t it?

.         .         .

Eight months prior

He comes home reeking of cigarettes and smiling lazily. For a moment, you think he’s drunk, with his sluggish and uncoordinated movements. He trips over his own feet trying to get his shoes off, sighing frustratedly in the doorway. The sound has you rolling your eyes, increasingly growing agitated with your boyfriend’s actions. 

His nose is red as he enters the living room, sniffling frequently. The chill of December does that to people. But when his eyes meet yours from the opposite side of the couch, you notice the equally red eyes and the dried tear tracks staining his face. Instantly, your heart plummets. 

“What happened?”

Nicholas sniffles softly, reddened eyes slowly scanning your figure. He’s clearly pondering his words, face twisted into a grimace as if his own thoughts pain him. The hardcover book you had been reading falls from your slackened grip, making a loud thud as it hits the wooden floor. Neither of you move at the sound. 

“Y/N, I—,” Nicholas cuts himself off with a wince, biting back a sob. “We need to break up.”

After approximately two years, four months, and thirteen days, the thought of breaking up seems so outlandish that normally, you would laugh. Even if Nicholas looked you dead in your eyes on any other day and said he wanted to break up, you would laugh. Your nose would scrunch and your head would be tipped back as you let out a full body chuckle. You would playfully punch Nicholas’s arm and kiss him in the same breath. 

But you’re not laughing. 

“Break up? What? Why?” You can’t seem to stop the flurry of questions that leave your mouth. “What happened? Why now, all of a sudden?”

Nicholas shakes his head. “I just can’t do this anymore.”

The exhaustion in his voice sets off a ringing in your ears, as if sounding an alarm for your body. Despite the small inflections in his voice, clearly unsteady from crying, you know he means what he’s saying. Nicholas has never been the type to be careless about his words, especially when it comes to you. 

“What do you mean you can’t do this anymore?” As you speak, your voice begins to take on a sharp edge, piercing through the living room. “After two fucking years you just decide you can’t do this? What the hell does that even mean?”

“It means that I can’t do this. I can’t do us anymore.”

A violent heat begins to overtake your face, metaphorical steam coming out of your ears as if you were a cartoon. In your prior breakups you had been sad, resigning yourself to whatever reason had split you apart. However, right now, nothing can overtake the scalding confusion that is consuming you right now. You imagine that you could single-handedly reverse the December chill, making your surroundings feel like the hottest of summers. 

“But why?” You wince as your voice cracks. 

“Because,” Nicholas sighs. “I just can’t. We can’t. I’m sorry, Y/N. I really am.”

He leaves you in the warmth of your apartment as he faces the bitter cold of the winter. His reddened face is hidden almost completely by a thick beanie, layers of clothing doing their best to protect his frail body underneath. You watch from your bedroom window as his figure treks down the street, disappearing around a concrete corner. Only then does it begin to snow. 

.         .         .

Seven months prior

You are sobbing. 

.         .         .

Six months prior

You are crying. 

.         .          .

Five months prior

You are tearing up. 

.         .         .

Four months prior 

You are expressionless. 

.          .         .

Three months prior

You are listening. 

.          .         .

Two months prior

You are speaking. 

.          .         .

One month prior

You are smiling. 

.         .         .

Present day

You are sobbing. 

It only took those few words from Nicholas for you to break down, the storm overtaking your emotions mirroring the one outside your window. Your sobs oddly harmonize with Nicholas’s own, both of your sadness manifesting in the same way despite the very different reasons for it. It’s as if you exist in a strangely cast musical, with Nicholas in the role of the heartbreaker and you in the role of the heartbroken. 

But now, you can’t quite pinpoint whether or not your tears stem from that same heartbreak you experienced eight months ago, or if it’s brewing from something deeper. 

“You don’t get to just say that,” you hiccup. “After all these months of nothing! You broke up with me without even explaining why.”

Nicholas winces at the harsh tone of your voice, ducking his head to look at the floor. “I know. Fuck, I know. And I’m sorry. I just had to tell you how I felt…how I still feel.”

The ceramic mug makes a soft clinking sound as Nicholas places it on the coffee table, the tea it housed probably having grown cold. It’s enough to force the space into a bout of tense silence, the only interruptor being the steady patter of rain against the window panes. You imagine that the next boom of thunder will be strong enough to shake the apartment, strong enough to shock you out of this nightmare in which your ex boyfriend still loves you. 

You swallow thickly, forcing your tears to subside for a moment. “Then why? Why did you leave me?”

“Because,” Nicholas sighs. “I was scared.”

The Nicholas you used to know was rarely ever scared. He didn’t blink an eye when he would get weird stares over his unique fashion choices. He would laugh in the face of the most insidious horror movies and cringe at their jump scares. You deemed him your knight in shining armor, ready to slay any dragon that dared come close. 

“You? Scared of what?”

Nicholas smiles sadly. “Do you remember when we went Thanksgiving shopping?”

You remember it vividly. The day had been abnormally warm for November, so you were clad in one of Nico’s tee shirts and a pair of old yoga pants. The store was immensely crowded, so much so that the two of you ended up pressed together like sardines in the aisle. It wasn’t that bad overall until you and a random lady had both reached for the last can of cranberry sauce. She tried to argue you down for it, making a case that since she was older, she deserves the can and everything. While she was so busy yelling, you grabbed the can, stuck out your tongue, and left. 

“That lady was just yelling and yelling, and you grabbed that can, and took me with you. When I was following behind you, or I guess you were dragging me by the hand, I couldn’t help but think ‘gosh, I love you so much’. I loved you so much that it scared me.”

Something flutters in your core. “Nico—,”

“We’re so young, and yet, every time I looked at you, I couldn’t think about anything but growing old together. Hell, I used to stay up at night thinking about what our kids would look like. That’s how much I loved you, Y/N. And I felt like I was smothering you. You had your job and you would come home and read and cook and I would just be distracting you and begging for your attention. Do you know how sad that is? It almost felt like it wasn’t healthy. So I had to leave. I had to let you live.”

A tense silence overtakes the apartment, sucking all of the oxygen from the room. Your fingers busy themselves by playing with the frayed ends of a tattered blanket. It’s the one that Nicholas got you for your first Christmas spent together, forest green with red hearts etched across its surface. You wouldn’t dare to admit that you haven’t spent a single night without snuggling with it, tucking it under your chin and breathing in its faded scent. It’s the very scent that strikes you with a bout of confidence, looking directly into the gaze of the man across from you. 

“Nico, what makes you think that I would want to live without you?”

Plush lips part into a surprised “o” as Nicholas looks at you. His reddened eyes scan your face, as if searching for a reason to not believe you. It takes a few seconds for him to complete his assessment, mouth shutting silently. He nods once, twice, clearly mulling something over in his head, always extremely cautious before he speaks. You used to wish he was more forthcoming, and just said whatever was on the tip of his tongue. After all, it was what got you both into this situation in the first place. 

“I thought you needed to,” Nicholas confesses. “I couldn’t stand feeling like I was holding you back.”

You laugh soullessly. “You know that I stopped reading after you left. I haven’t picked up a book in months.”

“Why?”

You try not to coo at the confusion etched across the man’s face. “Because fantasy didn’t seem as magical if I didn’t have a spectacular reality to come back to. You were spectacular, Nico. We were spectacular.”

Many would say that the mundane simply couldn’t be spectacular, but you thought that couldn’t be further from the truth. There was something about cooking dinner for the two of you that lit your core up. Sharing chaste kisses over the pages of a book made you smile like no other. Playing dress up in the mall and buying matching accessories was simply joyous. Being with Nicholas was magical, in the same way that spinning straw into gold was. 

When he left, a permanent tempest hung over your head. Storm clouds pelted you with the harshest rains with no relief. A tornado of emotions constantly tore through your body. And just when the skies began to clear, here comes Nicholas flashing back into your life like a lightning strike. 

“So, what are you saying?” Nicholas asks, voice barely a whisper. 

“Do you want to be with me?”

“More than anything.”

The rain has softened against the window, slowing to a mellow drizzle. 

“Then let’s be together.”

Nicholas sniffles, eyes falling shut. “Please don’t joke with me right now.”

You can’t help but let out a wet chuckle at the desperation coloring Nicholas’s voice. It prompts you to cross the distance on the couch until you settle right next to him. His hands are still chilled when you grab them, resting them both in your lap. The calloused skin of his palms feels so familiar against your papercut riddled fingers. 

“Look at me,” you coo, smiling softly when the man across from you obliges. “I’m not joking. I want to be together as long as you promise to be upfront with me. And, you have to know that I love you. I want a future with you. That’s nothing to be scared of.”

“But—,”

“No buts. Promise me.”

Nicholas eyes your intertwined hands, softly flexing his fingers where they sit in between yours. It’s only after you give his hands a firm squeeze that his lips part in a smile. He laughs once, as if in disbelief, before meeting your gaze once again. 

“I promise.”

Your lips are only able to smile for a brief second before a mouth covers them. It shocks you for a moment, until you melt into the familiarity of slightly chapped lips moving against yours. You can feel where Nicholas can’t really stop smiling, letting out a small giggle when your teeth clack together. It doesn’t deter either of you, though, simply content to continue trading giggles and kisses.

It takes a handful of minutes for you two to part, the stream of kisses never escalating further. The small distance between the two of you proves to be too much for Nicholas, who wraps a hand around your waist to pull you even closer. He scoops your legs into his lap, allowing you to sit draped across him. It’s the perfect position to allow you to look up at him, admiring the soft slope of his nose and the pretty curve of his lips. You find yourself pushing back his fringe in order to more clearly see his eyes. They are still red rimmed, but it does little to obscure the simple adoration in his gaze. 

The intensity of his stare forces you to look away, attempting to fight the heat rising to your cheeks. You end up peering beyond the window, noticing the hints of sunlight that are beginning to peek through the clouds. You smile, watching as the world begins to be illuminated bit by bit. 

“Look, it stopped raining,” you tell Nicholas. 

When you turn to face the man, he is still staring down at you, a soft smile lighting up his face. 

“I had a feeling it would.”

.FIN.

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 26, Unsurprising - Pt. 4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of sex, violence.

Word Count: 894

Previously On...: Bucky rejected your sexual advances, but Nat texted you, so at least you have that going for you.

A/N: ANSWER TIME

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

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You stabbed your finger on the button to dial Nat’s number, the brevity of her texting style leaving you with more questions than answers. You were terrified it was going to go to voicemail before she finally picked up.

“‘Bout time,” Nat answered instead of a greeting. “How long did it take before you and Barnes got naked again? I’ve got money riding on it.”

“Jesus Christ, Nat,” you said, not wanting to waste time playing this game. “We didn’t, okay? Now tell me what the hell’s going on!”

“I told you in the texts,” she said, “and if you’d bothered to reply, I’d have answered any questions you may have had.”

You didn’t respond to that, waiting for Natasha get over your lack of response and start talking. “Fine,” she eventually capitulated. “Sam called Steve, told him about A.J., who is going to be okay, by the way– just a long recovery; and how he needed to go home. He said he didn’t want to leave you, and asked Steve to send down coverage.”

“Yeah, I knew that already,” you said, though you were relieved to hear the news about A.J.. “What else?”

“Well, obviously Barnes volunteered,” she said, as if it was the most logical thing in the world, “but Steve wasn’t having it, because he didn’t want to spring Barnes on you without clearing it with you first.” 

“That was thoughtful of him,” you said.

“Hmm,” said Nat cryptically. “Anyway, I was going to come down, myself. Sun and surf and stripping with my best friend? Sounded like a fucking vacation.”

“Natasha,” you warned, urging her to stick to the point. 

She sighed. “Yeah, okay. So, Bucky gets a call from a SHIELD med facility out in Wilmington, Fucking Delaware, of all places.” Nat paused, waiting for you to speak. When you didn’t, she asked: “Care to explain what that was all about, Pocket?”

“Not at this exact moment, Natty,” you said, truly not wanting to get into your surprise pregnancy/miscarriage two-for-one evening. 

You could practically hear Nat’s eyes roll in annoyance at you through the phone– she despised not knowing things, which was what made her such a damned good spy. “Fine. Carthage finds out Bucky’s taken off, and when she asks where he went, Steve tells her he went to be with you, that you needed him. Pocket, this girl fucking flipped her shit. Like, I half expected her to turn green and start growing through her clothes. I’ve never seen anything like it that didn’t involve Bruce Hulking-out,” she told you.

“She was screaming how it wasn’t fair, had some choice words to say about you, which I won’t repeat, because I’m your friend, by the way, then starts talking about how ‘it wasn’t supposed to be this way,’ and ‘this wasn’t what she was promised.’ It was weird. Just… fucking weird. 

“Steve tried to calm her down,” she continued, “but she wasn’t having any of it. Kept saying he ‘didn’t understand,’ and how now she was ‘gonna die,’ and it was all your fault. Steve tried to restrain her, but she clocked him. He needed to call in Thor to help wrangle her. They got her sedated and put her in her room, but when Cho went to check on her a few hours later, she was just… gone. Ransacked her room, punched holes in the walls, packed up all her shit.”

“Jesus Christ,” you murmured. “Nat, this is absolutely beyond. I mean, it’s more than a crush, it’s a fucking obsession.”

“Tell me about it,” Nat agreed. “She left behind her Stark phone, her coms, and her tracking device. Steve and Tony made the decision to list her as AWOL, and they’ve got SHIELD crawling around like ants looking for her, but there’s been no sign of her since.”

You took a shaking breath. “That’s a hell of a lot to take in, Nat.”

“Oh, sweetie,” she said, and you could hear the smirk in her voice, “that’s not even the best part.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“You have no idea.”

“Out with it, Natalia, I swear!”

Your friend scoffed. “You’re no fun, but fine. You remember our little conversation with Sam, right? After she fucked up the Malaysia mission?”

“Where he said he thought she set them up, yeah.” You remembered, alright, though it felt so long ago now. “And I checked the Tower’s systems; she hadn’t accessed anything she shouldn’t have.”

“Except for Bucky’s files,” Nat clarified to remind you.

“Except for Bucky’s files,” you agreed, not understanding where she was going with this.

“You know how my part was to reach out to my old KGB contacts, see what I could find out from them?” Nat asked, and you grunted in affirmation. 

“Well,” she continued, “I just heard back, not long after I started texting you. Turns out, our BFF didn’t escape from a Hydra base.”

You felt a cold chill go down your spine. “What are you saying, Nat?”

“I’m saying I was given some very interesting security footage,” Nat continued. “Carthage never escaped Hydra, because they willingly let her out.” You let out a shocked gasp, and Nat paused for dramatic effect, making you want to reach through the phone and shake her. “They let her out,” she continued, “with an objective: to bring home the Winter Soldier.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[adnehellena]

Hello! I really love your previous work on Chaos!Valentine so I would like to ask for a Chaos!Valentine with a flirty SO please 🥺 like how would this baby handle that?

Hey, hello, there! 😃

Sorry, it took me a while to think about this ask and answer it. I tried to wrap my head around the idea, and tried my best to sound flirty (I'm very, very, very bad at dirty talks, so being flirty is something I easily wouldn't excel at, and had to resort to some cheesy, cringe pick up lines).

But I tried, and this is the result.

Sorry about the brevity of it, but it was a busy week. I hope you are, at least, satisfied with the outcome.

See ya! 😘😘

•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*

The first time you saw him, you were both fighting a gruesome monster inside an underground mako pond, and the Limit Break of Vincent was inevitable. As his body started to shine, you prepared to watch, fascinated as the man-turned-beast slaughtered the enemies into a cruel, gore-ish frenzy. But that wasn't what happened and you were stunned when the demon-like creature, armored and crowned as a dark king, descended upon the cave, so fast and efficient, moving graciously as dancer, light as a feather, in a way that made your mouth dry and your insides throb with the sparks of arousal.

Vincent had warned you about Chaos' form, but he never said ot was so deliciously masculine and powerful, captivating and beautiful. Those yellow, eerie eyes that look at you with a veiled curiosity, a bit of awe as the way you gaped at him. You smiled, and it was a new, good feeling as you walked to the demon with a bit more of sway on your hips, taking in his guarded, waiting expression.

"Hello, handsome! Fancy see you here."

The silence between you two was deafening, and the strange pupils focused on you, your proximity to the strong body of the entity without an ounce of fear in your scent. That was enough for him to tilt his head, regarding you with a tiny fleck of interest.

"Never knew I'd have proof that angels really do exist, but here you are!"

You smirked, and the demon blinked in confusion, yellow eyes trailing your small hand in his chest, the finger outlining the red of his suit with an intimacy unknown to him. He blinked again, leisurely, and suddenly Valentine was back, both of you covered in purple dust as the demon receded. The gunslinger arched an eyebrow, caught surprised only by your naughty laughter.

After that, things spiralled fast.

It wasn't unusual that you both fought together. Valentine was good with guns, you were good with daggers, so the forest outside your house often held your fights, being it a hunt or only for fun. That's when, while cleaning yourself by the clear pond two miles away, you perceived the demon's reflection on the water, approaching your crouching figure with something aching to protection in his eyes.

You knew Vincent's demons had an oath of loyalty over those the man protected and cherished, but the twitching of Chaos' hands was something new. You stood up, and took your opportunity, swirling around and glueing yourself to the demon's figure, hand traveling from his firm waist to his butt. Your small fingers wrapped in supple leather, squeezing it with a naughty wink.

In seconds, Chaos was gone, and Valentine frowned to your bright, mischievous eyes. He sighed, walking back to the hunted prey and lifting it over his shoulders as you scurried to keep his stride.

On the course of weeks, the dynamic suffered little shift, except for it seemed that Vincent started to rely more on the demons inside him, leaving them to share his senses even outside battlefields and near your presence, letting them watch your day-to-day tasks.

Well, one demon, specifically.

Chaos was surfacing more and more, for short periods of time, the strange yellow of his pupils overpowering the crimson of Vincent's with ease whenever you two were close. You smiled whenever you felt that heavy, confused stare on your person, and emptied your most cheesy lines with the demon.

It started with a "Hey, gorgeous. Do you have a name, or can I just call you 'mine'?

To which he only blinked and frowned, answering with an uncertain, low and timid "Chaos."

And God, what a voice he had! It reverberated in your bones like a call of the graveyard, low and rusty, with too many souls behind it, an echo that should've caused you fear, but only increased your desire.

The next time you caught him staring at you were in the kitchen, cooking dinner with Vincent cleaning his guns over the tiny table and, as you turned, the demon's eyes were glued to your figure, quickly turning away.

"Did the sun come out, or did you just smile at me, beautiful?"

Chaos frowned - and that was a natural expression by now, whenever you brought a cheeky, flirty line between you and him. It always took him a few seconds, sometimes a little over a minute, to comprehend the sentence and answer. "I didn't smile."

You laughed, leaving the confused demon to receding back in the depths of Valentine's mind as you searched the fridge for the eggs.

On a cold, rainy day, you were drawing some sketches over the couch, the ravenette reading behind your back and trapped by his long legs, as the body stiffened suddenly. You paused, some primal recognition tingling inside you, and turned to see the red eyes turned yellow again, with the creature blushing faintly at the position you were both.

You snuggled closer to the slim chest, making sure to rub your body against the gunslinger's and sighed, coming to kiss the skin below Vincent's jaw. "Did it hurt? When you fell from heaven?"

"I... Never fell from heaven. I was born from disgrace."

"What about you disgracing me, then?"

You completely missed the red of the demon's cheeks, the shock he felt when Vincent's body responded to your smuggling and the small bites you left on his neck. The gunslinger moaned, forgetting the demon's antics as he closed the arms around you, pulling you up for a full kiss and more.

---

You were dozing on Vincent's chest, legs tangled to fit the small couch and Valentine's arms around you when he squeezed your neck gently, bringing your eyes to his relaxed, satisfied face. He turned, pulling you over his body to watch your reaction closely.

"...What have you done to Chaos? He's hiding the time he possesses me."

"Is he...? Huh." You frowned, red nailed fingers tapping on his chest as you thought. "Maybe he's liking it?"

"Liking it what, bumblebee?"

"Oh, nothing special. I just have been... Flirting with him?" You trailed off, hoping the gunslinger would leave the subject alone and wouldn't mind you sweet-talking one of his other personalities. You sighed as the man frowned more. "You know, calling him beautiful, pinching his butt, asking him on a date... On our bed."

You mumbled the last part, but forgot how good Vincent's hearing was. You winced, expecting the long argument of how inappropriate and how dangerous that was, and etc, etc, but frowned as the man just stared.

"You're insane."

You laughed, forehead hitting the man's collarbone as his hands carded through your hair, pulling it a little. You expected a fight, some strong opinions and all you received was the baffled, far away shine of ruby eyes as Vincent looked at the vast whiteness of your ceiling. You knew what that look meant, and if it wasn't chased by a storming face, it was something that pleased both Valentine and his demons. So your idea of bedding one of them wasn't so out of the picture like you thought...

"Hey." You straightened yourself and put a small hand on his face, forcing yourself up to kiss his mouth with a sweet, quick peck. "I love you, and your demons. If it makes him uncomfortable, I'll stop. But I stand my ground, Vincent. I want both of you."

"You're insane. And I'm even more, because Chaos is loving your flirtatious persona, so I'll leave him have a little time with you."

You smiled, making sure the next kiss was a big one, just in case the demon was near.

[bleue-flora]

Write the autitic c!dream essay🙏🙏

Why I think c!Dream is Autistic - Part 1

[context]

[Part 1] - [Part 2] - [Part 3]

Welp… I guess while on the topic of neurodivergence now is as good as time as any to do this. So, at long last…

Since every version of this essay ended up way too long I’m going to break it into 3 parts, and I'm going to make more generalized statements for the sake of brevity. So, if there are things about this or autism in general you would like more clarification on or know more about, my asks are always open (though I do ask that you please wait to flood my inbox until after you’ve read all parts). I would also like to add that for the same reason of length, I am not going to go in depth on all of the facets of autism and diagnosing it. I am not a psychologist, and this essay is not about defining autism and going into full depth about what it is, but about the specific aspects of Dream and the dsmp that I think point to autism, based on what I know and more importantly my experiences as an autistic person. Having said that, just so we are on the same page - Autism means that our brains are literally structured differently (also known as neurodivergent), which means we think differently and process the world differently, it does not make us inferior or broken or less than larger society (neurotypicals), it only means we are human beings who are wired differently.

Now, for part 1 I’m going to briefly go into the traits Dream has that I think point to autism, keeping in mind that this is not necessarily all inclusive, these are not necessarily autism exclusive, and some of these can be effected with masking and personal growth. 

Highly obsessive - in general and for specific interest, to the point of not taking care of oneself, like forgetting to sleep, eat, shower, or just not caring enough to do so. 

Strong willed, determined and dedicated - not going to give up easily, willing to stay up training or farming for long hours or put in the work especially for our obsession. Our priorities aren’t always productive, but we are not ones for laziness.

Isolated - outcast, odd ball out, set apart, on the outskirts, loner, alone even if surrounded by people.

Highly intelligent - smart, clever, big brained, skilled, knowledgeable to the point of ground breaking (ex: Einstein, Elon Musk, Michelangelo, Beethoven, Leonardo da Vinci…etc)

Trouble with emotions and feelings - from recognizing them, processing them, letting ourselves experience them, understanding them, leading us to often then lash out, explode, or have a meltdown.

All about the facts and truth - sometimes to an abrasive and candid point where it can become more important than how people feel or the main point.

Logical mindset - making decisions based on logic and strategy rather than on emotions to the point of struggling to understand others when they follow no such logic

“Black and White” thinking - right and wrong, good or bad, yes or no, on or off, love it or hate it, friend or foe. Everything is in extremes.

Rule follower, one to fight for justice and for others - we are stubborn and in our strong conviction we are out against injustice and misinformation, fairness and what is right and true is imperative. 

Unable to forgive and forget - hard to let things go. Often have good memories and are able to remember things with the same detail as if it were happening again and not years ago. It doesn’t really fade with time and that makes us easily hold grudges, and hold things and behavior against people.

Resistant to change -  doesn’t matter how big or small nor whether it’s good or bad, we are enemies of change. We like to understand so uncertainty and new things are often disagreeable.

Able to recognize patterns - able to see the full picture, see history repeating itself and people’s behavioral tendencies, which makes us good at scheming and masterminding. We hate change so we want to predict things to avoid being surprised. 

Trouble articulating our point - stuttering and stumbling over our words, because our brains are moving too fast for our mouth to keep up and it’s hard to explain ourselves because our brain works differently. (we’ll talk about this more in part 2)

Struggle with body language? - I mean it’s hard to say given the Minecraft format, but to me wearing a mask could be to avoid having to make eye contact (which I hate) and appropriate facial expressions and stuff like that, which are pretty important in diagnosis. So while some headcanon that Dream wears a mask because he's too expressive and doesn't like being exposed I actually think it might be the opposite and saves him a lot of effort and brain power to not have to worry about his facial expression. :)

Stimming - (yes an ADHD thing but also an autistic thing and it's very common for someone to be both - like me ;D) vocally and physically often when more stressed, again hard to say for a Minecraft man, but I see him constantly moving like pacing the cell or jumping around and stuff as stimming and he does vocally stim on occasion as well.

Or in other words - Reasons I think c!Dream is autistic:

C!Dream = me, me = autistic -> c!Dream = autistic… boom, shortest essay ever XD lol jk 

But seriously it is a major reason. I read a tumblr c!Dream character analysis (don't remember who's) back before I even joined tumblr and related soo much, which is pretty concerning when you relate to a villain - because like wait does that make me a psychopath? but I have empathy and I care and I'm out to hurt people so why would I relate so much? And that's when I realized I think it is because he’s autistic like me so we think a like... I mean seriously the similarities are scarily uncanny down to things that have happened to me in real life…

Anyways, thank you for reading. I hope I made sense and got the idea across even by not going into super detail on all the points.

[sexdykes]

tips for brushing teeth regularly

i have struggled with brushing my teeth regularly for a while now but i have recently gotten better at doing it a couple times a week now instead of like, once a month, and i figured i should share some things that helped me.

generally speaking, the reason why someone isnt brushing their teeth will fall into one of the following categories:

forgetfulness

not liking the taste

not liking the texture

not enough stimulation during the task

lack of spoons

its a good idea to try to identify which of the categories you fall into. i am mostly forgetfulness but the others are mixed in there too. they also often overlap quite a bit

forgetfulness/lack of spoons

not every one of these tips will work for both, but a lot of them overlap enough that i figured it may aswell be one category for the sake of brevity

try keeping your toothbrush in your shower or next to your bed or somewhere that you are likely to see it and have time to use it. i have three toothbrushes in different places in my house

incorporating brushing my teeth into my shower routine has really really helped me ( i mention it a bunch, sorry in advance)

allow yourself to brush your teeth at any time of the day, not just when you "should" be. brushing your teeth at 1pm before lunch is better than not brushing your teeth at all

if they help, set alarms reminding you to do it

i keep a set of those floss/toothpick combos next to my bed that i use whenever i am watching a youtube video or something which is especially good when ive missed a couple days

if you have housemates that youre willing to ask, see if you can brush your teeth with them

easier said than done, but try not to beat yourself up when you dont brush your teeth. youll just start to associate it with that bad feeling

taste

there are starting to be some fun flavors of toothpaste, its worth trying to get one that you like the taste of

if you cant find one that you like the taste of, dry-brushing is better than nothing

brushing in the shower helps really rinse out your mouth properly so you no longer taste any toothpaste (otherwise i usually have to keep going back to the sink every two seconds)

texture

if you can stand it, mouthwash is your friend

experiment with different kinds of brushes or toothpaste as some brushes are softer/tougher and some toothpastes froth more or less

if you cant do toothbrushes at all, using your finger is absolutely okay, or wet cloth of some kind

both taste/texture

try to find a way to scrape off buildup on your teeth. like i already mentioned, I keep floss next to my bed and that is quite helpful when trying to scrape stuff off. a cloth would also work i imagine

general tips

try watching something or listening to something while brushing your teeth

dont be afraid to get silly with it!

get a fun toothbrush! they are usually advertised to young kids and so might be a little small for your mouth but a toothbrush is a toothbrush!

same for fun toothpaste! and mouthwash!

i saw someone talk about how they got 7 different flavors of toothpaste to have a different kind every day of the week

if you can, try to leave the toothpaste in your mouth for as long as possible (without swallowing it of course)

floss!!

if you can, use mouthwash!

i know that it is super hard to do sometimes, but brushing your teeth is so important.

if you have any tips of your own please share them!

[leviathans-watching]

hey :3 can you do a fic about mc who kept her feelings for solomon secretly for more than one year? and mc was fighting with a lower demon who was saying that she likes one of the brother and then she says that it was solomon not the brother/s but she didn't confess because she was afraid that solomon would reject her because he don't want to lose another lover and like those worries? muahh

solomon overhearing your confession

includes: solomon x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

wc: .7k | rated t | m.list

a/n: lmao he's so dumb i love him sm. thanks for requesting and i hope you enjoy!! my inbox is open to chat, request, or leave feedback so come say hi <33

warnings: (mildly humerous) depictions of (poorly executed) bullying

please reblog >:0

“admit it,” a lower-level demon says, pressing her finger into your chest, “you like lucifer!”

“i do not,” you protest hotly.

“fine then,” another says, rolling his eyes, “mammon, then!”

“i don’t like any of the demon brothers,” you argue.

“that’s such a lie!” the leader dismisses. “anyone would like at least one!”

“i thought you didn’t want me to like them,” you say, confused. “otherwise, why would you be threatening me?”

“we obviously need you to admit which one you like so we can warn you off of him,” a third demon says.

“this is so dumb. i already told all of you, i don’t like any of them! there’s actually someone else i hold close.”

“now you’re just making excuses. if that’s really true, then who do you like?”

you hesitate. it’s not as if you’re lying–you really do like solomon–you’ve just never admitted it to anyone and can’t believe the first time you do will be under duress.

“see, you’re not saying anything,” the second one speaks up again, “that means you’ve got to be lying!”

“what is with you weirdos! i like solomon, okay!”

“solomon? you mean like that shady sorcerer?”

“figures,” the third demon says nastily, “two humans, meant for one another.”

“why do you like him?” the leader asks. “how can i believe you without evidence?”

you groan. this is so freaking cliche. “he might be shady, but he’s really smart, okay? and he’s got a good sense of humor and strong morals. they may not be good morals but he knows what he believes in and stands up for it. he also is like, super attractive.” you go on but for the sake of brevity, it will get left up to imagination.

“wow, you must really like him,” the leader demon finally says, face crinkled. “why haven’t you confessed?”

“well, he’s never given an indication that he likes me back,” you say, wondering how you’re life has gotten to this point, “and i don’t do well with rejection in general.”

“i believe in you,” the second crony says passionately. “i’m sure he likes you back! you just have to take the first step!”

“i thought you guys were threatening me,” you say, confused.

“well, we were,” the leader says like you’re stupid, stepping back. “but we don’t actually dislike you. just threats to our chances with the brothers.”

wisely, you hold back the fact that you don’t think they have very much of a chance at all. “so you’re encouraging me now?”

“obviously. it’s kind of pitiful how down bad you are, you know,” the third says. “you seriously need to just jump in with both feet and be brave.”

after a few more inspiring words, they leave you, even more confused and honestly just ready to go back to the house of lamentation. but before you can, a voice speaks up, and seriously, this is way too cliche.

“now, that was interesting,” solomon says, and you turn to him with a scowl.

“how long have you been standing there? and you didn’t help me?”

“well, i got there and was going to help, but then you started waxing poetic about my cheekbones and i figured you had it in control.”

“kill me now.”

“ah, ah, ah, none of that,” he says, clicking his tongue. “at least not before you tell me if you meant everything you said. because if you did,” he continues before you can protest, “that would very good news for me indeed.”

you don’t dare to believe what he’s implying. “maybe,” you say instead. “what would you do if i had?”

his face splits into a handsome smile. “well, take you out on a date, of course,” he says like it’s obvious. “one where you can tell me more about how you like my charming wit and dashing aura.”

“oh god,” you say with feeling. “what have i gotten myself into?”

“the start of something beautiful,” solomon replies grandiosely, taking your hand, and for once, you actually think he might be being serious.

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

[dufferpuffer]

"Why didn't anyone do anything to help Harry" Alastor Moody did.

Arthur too, bless him - but Mad-Eye doesn't fucking hold back. And he's only known Harry for a few spotty meetings over a year.

“Well — shall we do it, then?” “Yeah, I reckon so, Arthur,” said Moody. ... ... “Good afternoon,” said Mr. Weasley pleasantly to Uncle Vernon, coming to a halt right in front of him. “You might remember me, my name’s Arthur Weasley.” ... ... “We thought we’d just have a few words with you about Harry,” said Mr. Weasley, still smiling. “Yeah,” growled Moody. “About how he’s treated when he’s at your place.” ... ... “I am not aware that it is any of your business what goes on in my house —” “I expect what you’re not aware of would fill several books, Dursley,” growled Moody. “Anyway, that’s not the point,” interjected Tonks, ... ... “The point is, if we find out you’ve been horrible to Harry —” “— and make no mistake, we’ll hear about it,” added Lupin pleasantly. “Yes,” said Mr. Weasley, “even if you won’t let Harry use the fellytone —” “Telephone,” whispered Hermione. “Yeah, if we get any hint that Potter’s been mistreated in any way, you’ll have us to answer to,” said Moody. ... ... “Are you threatening me, sir?” he said, so loudly that passersby actually turned to stare. “Yes, I am,” said Mad-Eye, who seemed rather pleased that Uncle Vernon had grasped this fact so quickly. “And do I look like the kind of man who can be intimidated?” barked Uncle Vernon. “Well . . .” said Moody, pushing back his bowler hat to reveal his sinisterly revolving magical eye. Uncle Vernon leapt backward in horror and collided painfully with a luggage trolley. “Yes, I’d have to say you do, Dursley.” He turned from Uncle Vernon to Harry. “So, Potter... give us a shout if you need us. If we don’t hear from you for three days in a row, we’ll send someone along....”

OotP, Chapter 38 (edited for brevity)

Met this boy a handful of times and says: "The Muggles treat him bad? Nope. I ain't standin' for that." Clunks over, scares the shit out of them - and makes promises he intends to keep as a support network for Harry.