#but fuck i wish i was getting a normal social experience

[lunarsapphism]

was trying to look for a picture of my desk at college cause i needed to remember the configuration so i can use it as a reference to look for a new desk for my room and made myself sad instead

[phagodyke]

thinking abt the touden siblings got me sniffling and weeping....

[blueish-bird]

sorry if I don’t remember your name or conversations/experiences or basic things about myself, every few weeks my brain gets factory reset and I have to relearn how to be alive

[vatelixx]

The enormity of my desire (disgusts me),

Very very early seasons (1 — start of 2) Spencer Reid x afab!BAU!reader

SMUT!! (and fluff, some angst in relation to Spencer’s past because it can never be too happy, we’re not allowed nice things here). first times & explorations of intimacy.

──── autistic spencer (it’s a central theme to the plot), reader is actually morally good (for once).

Warnings: sub spencer (what did u even expect?), heavy corruption kink, first time for Spencer (all i do is sit around and think about how i’d like to devirgin that genius), HEAAVY praise kink, very very inexperienced Spencer, slight? oral fixation, they’re both just rlly down bad (i told u i would write something light, i delivered), Reader is whipped, Spencer is sooo much worse. Biblical references, Religious imagery, i think i talk about math equations???? And random metaphors/complexes.

w.c: 4k

a/n: i rlly wanted to explore aspects of spencer that criminal minds swept under the rug (cough cough his undiagnosed autism, cough cough his social exclusion, cough cough his crippling fear of forever being alone). Next upload will prob be heavy angst/no smut post-prison spencer (god help me please, i must be a masochist for the way i make myself suffer)

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There’s a lot Spencer hasn’t done.

He knows he’s behind, that he never quite caught up when it came to the taboo of sex and intimacy. Everything, everything, he’s ever had has been centred around exclusion, alienation, he feels like he’s lived on pause. Frozen, never advancing, stuck on ‘go’. Touch isn’t easy for him, interpersonal relationships are worse. He’s different, god he’s heard that his entire life. ‘You’re not weird, you’re just… different’, but maybe he is weird. Maybe his whole existence is just one big cosmic fuck you, because he’s missed out on so much, so much that he can’t understand, comprehend, act out against. Falling behind; this is the only area of life where he continuously comes up short, inexperienced, naive, he’s not used to being incompetent.

He’s never experienced want the way others do. He could never just hook up, fall into the body of another, expose them to the vulnerable elements of his stature. Open himself up to scrutiny. He might be a genius, he might be intellectually advanced, accepted into a multitude of ivy leagues before he was old enough to vote, but there’s drawbacks to his success. Social awkwardness, an inability to blend, mould, be one of the crowd. Sometimes he wishes he was average, something grey and mundane, so far reduced from the person he is now— it would all be plainly simple.

But he’s not, he’s not. So, this is the weight he has to bare for the brain he never asked for.

Pyrrhic victory, he’ll always be renowned for his intelligence. ‘You’re going to change the world kid,’ maybe, but simultaneously, he’ll never get to experience said world. There’s a chance he’ll always be on the outside, watching normal people gravitate towards each other. Live dreary lives of domesticated simplicity. Stacked bills, arguments over money and parenting techniques. Going to bed angry, only to turn around, mid-night, and resolve it, to not sleep on bad blood. To take them off the couch, to settle into predestined sides of the mattress.

There’s not enough possessions in the world he’d sacrifice just to experience love.

Hedgehog dilemma, the challenges of human intimacy. The hedgehogs want to move closer, to preserve heat during cold. But, they are forced, biologically cursed to remain apart, in order to prevent themselves from harming each other. Spencer doesn’t want to be hurt, to hurt, it’s a morbid byproduct of his upbringing; all he ever endured was mockery.

He thought he’d never get to experience the physical, carnal aspects of existence. And sure, he made peace with the notion, accepted the consequences of being born atypical. Learnt to live without.

But then, oh then there was you. Pretty, intellectual you who quite literally tipped his world on it’s axis. Upheaved the most stable of routines. New to the BAU, he wanted you to last. To stay around, endure the worst of the job. If only for his selfish benefit of orbiting in your presence.

He remembers how it all started: Detroit, another case, more budget cuts, forced proximity that sent you spiralling into a shared bed for the night.

“You’re my favourite person in the team.” you admitted, “And I know that’s dumb, because we’ve spoken the least, but… you’re just, so you. That’s a good thing by the way, a really really good thing.”

He couldn’t quite believe you were talking about him. Spencer, who spilt coffee, and slipped into ceaseless tangents about obscure information. Spencer, who walked into walls when you were around, stumbling over his sentences before deftly, very astutely, giving up, walking away mid-conversation. He wore sweater-vests and colourful mismatched socks, it’s not like he was going to be crowned ‘white boy of the month’.

“Not dumb.” Spencer had responded, shifting closer to tangle further into the warm mess of this accidental situation. “That’s good. I like being me.” he mumbled. “Sometimes…. sometimes it sucks. But that’s okay. I think it’s okay?”

He moved to press his face into the crook of your neck, but you were faster, gathering him by tousled hair, forcing him to look you in the eye.

Oh.

“Please. Please.” he whispered, breaking apart, fracturing, “Please like me. And more than in a weird, ‘just friends or coworkers’ way.”

You did. You do. He should’ve kissed you then, but maybe he was scared, maybe he couldn’t quite discern his feelings, separate the logic from the emotional. So he waited, waited, waited until now. Your third date, you take him to an exhibition within a science centre: replica models of the solar system, filling rooms up, papier-mâché sculptures illuminated by light.

Best date ever. You listen, even when he’s rambling about planets, when he’s pointing out that yes, Jupiter’s density is less than water. That, technically, it would float in a bathtub, if one was built to accommodate its size. You don’t care that he’s not exactly the staple-piece for conventionally attractive males. That he’s nerdish, and awkward, and so so inexperienced when it comes to this.

In his apartment, later, much later, he looks at you, looks at you like you’re the one who just solved the fucking Riemann hypothesis.

“What do you want the most? Like,… if you could ask for one thing.” you say, and god, Spencer loves when you pose these deep, hypothetical questions. When you make him think, because you, you are the biggest challenge to his intellect yet.

You. He wants to say. But he settles for ‘Being remembered,’ instead. He works to untangle layers of fabric, your scarf, your jacket, letting out an exasperated laugh when he meets your amused gaze. “Right now though? I think I’d settle for kissing you.”

You cup his jaw, tracing your fingers along the sharp curve, and god he has perfect anatomy. “Settle huh? You should be more appreciative.”

He leans forward to press a chaste kiss against your lips. Drawing away for a moment, just to return because he’s never had this before. Because for the first time in his life, he gets it. He gets physical attraction, even if it took time. He’s kissed, been kissed, yes. But he could count those moments on one hand, and if you asked how many he truly enjoyed, he’d be left with no fingers raised.

“Believe me, i’m very appreciative…”

This isn’t like before, what he felt in the past; he expected something monotone, flighty, a brief fleeting moment of satisfaction. Means to an end. No, it’s actually the best thing he’s ever experienced, and he’s going to become so insufferable after this, because he’s just found out he is very very into kissing.

Correction: he’s very into kissing you.

In the moment between parting, and touching again, he assumes you to be divinity personified. Spencer has never been religious, but something of this magnitude should be canonised. He wants to ask you. Ask you when you became this beautiful. When you became the person he needs to kiss a second time, kiss a third time, kiss until his lips go numb.

A shaky inhale, a pause. “I hope… I hope that it was okay - I mean, it was good for me. Really, really good. Um—“ to be honest, he’s just glad he didn’t say thankyou.

“Yeah, Spence. That was… wow.” you draw your bottom lip between teeth, press into tissued flesh. Jesus Christ. “Wanna try again?”

Yes yes yes yes. He looks at you, pupils blown obscenely out of proportion. Part of him wants to say, ‘why didn’t we do this sooner?’ But that’s not fair; he’s only ready now. Now that he feels, now that he might be a little in love with you.

“Please,” is his answer, and then he’s catching your face in the palms of his hand, tugging your lips back to his, because admittedly, they have ached in the long, extensive period you were apart (53 seconds).

This time it deepens and Spencer sees stars. It’s an astronomical phenomenon, something interstellar— and god, he’s relating kissing to space. They should just tape the word ‘virgin’ to his back and call it a day.

There’s soft little breathy sighs escaping his mouth now, bleeding into yours. And yeah, spontaneous combustion might be a real threat. Actually no, it would hardly be spontaneous; there’s a clear, clear cause, and it just so happens to be your ruinous lips.

This is an entirely new facet of the human experience. The kiss is electric; he’s always been partial toward physics, and right now his veins carry an alternating current.

You know, he could probably write a thesis based on this.

You both stumble back back back until he’s hitting a wall, and yes, thankyou. He’s making all sorts of sounds he can’t justify, and it’s a supernova, an infinite black pool of— oh, he thinks he might die, ascend, transcend, when you press your thumb against his chin, hold your lips at just a little slant from his. Force him to wait there.

“Please,” he’s never been above begging. A worthy sacrifice, one he’ll certainly repeat again because you return to the kiss, and the world around him dissolves.

You’ve got one hand tangled in his hair. Tousled auburn, fingers sinking into strands, pushing all the way down to the root. The other is still cupping his face, keeping him close, keeping him selfishly close actually.

“Spence,” you murmur. And yes. Yes. He likes that. The way his name sounds rolling off your tongue, like it was destined to be there. Like he was destined to be yours.

His world is ending. So is yours. Fuck it, he presses himself against your thigh, and ohmygodohmygod. He’s being loud, he’s actually being so criminally loud right now because apparently he’s the most whorish virgin to ever exist.

“I lied, I lied,” he admits between messy kisses, “When you asked what I wanted the most? It’s not to be remembered, well it is, its on the list. But—“ he groans, kisses you again because talking interrupts matters that are more important. Like your lips.

“I wanna cum.”

Eloquent.

Spencer Reid being dirty? Oh, it’s hot, it’s so hot to reduce someone to such an obscene state. To reduce him, the boyish fumbling nerd (who just so happens to be the most beautiful person in existence) to such a degrading mess.

Still, there’s shock. Not because he said it (you greatly appreciate the indecent things falling from those pretty lips right now), but because—

“You’ve never? Haven’t even experienced it once? By yourself?”

He should be embarrassed, but his lips are red, his eyes are glassy, and the bulge in his pants is straining to be touched. “Never,” he sighs shakilly. “Never, and i’m— i’m starting to understand why it’s so popular.”

He whimpers, pushes himself against your thigh, because the friction, yes. “Is that weird? Please don’t think i’m weird. Because I’m really, really weird. Just maybe… not in that way?”

It’s never been enough. His body sometimes feels numb to the touch, and yet still so very overstimulated. Like he manually blocks himself from feeling, already prepared for the flinch. How does he explain that life hasn’t been kind to him? That he hates his body because of what people made it out to be when he was a child. Stripping him naked, tying him to a goalpost, always the underdog. The one to be targeted, tormented.

“It’s actually kinda hot,” you interrupt his thoughts, and just because you’re evil, corrupt, the worst, you press your thigh harder against his clothed cock, palm covering his mouth when a plethora of whiny sounds escape his mouth.

It’s performative, really. Alone in his apartment, there’s no need for noise control. So when your thumb slips between parted, swollen lips, he knows to suck. The average human hand has between 10,000 and 10 million bacteria, and Spencer does not actually give a fuck anymore.

“To think that you’ve never even felt what it’s like. That you’re gonna feel it with me for the first time. I get to see that shit— god, you’re going to look so fucking pretty for me.”

You draw your thumb out of his mouth, and he has the audacity to whine.

He’s never wanted anything more in his entire life. It’s all tertiary now. Only this matters.

“Please don’t praise me—“ he protests, “I’ll probably finish in my pants.”

“Praise kink, noted.”

You laugh, and he can only groan, curse existence for being this cruel to his overworked, undervalued body. “Don’t— don’t laugh. You’re not supposed to laugh, that can heighten performance anxiety. Increase insecurity, and…” he sighs, “You do not care. Sadistic tendencies, noted.”

“Shut up. Wanna see you.” you say, and he’s just muttering breathless mhm’s, too delirious to function; his body is betraying the last iota of self-control like the little whore it apparently is.

His sweater comes off first, then his top. Discarded fabric, his raised arms when you mutter a candid ‘up’, giving way to exposed skin. In response? Your pupils dilate. Spencer knows because he’s analysing, profiling. If you hate him like this, he’s fairly certain he’ll drag himself into a self-dug early grave. He wishes he was being melodramatic. That your approval didn’t have such a substantial impact on his carefully-constructed ego. But, oh, it does. It does.

Thin, with a long, defined torso, he blushes, rose blemished skin, when your hands drag across his stomach. He’d love to say he reacts sanely, suavely. Urbane to your touch. But that would be a total, discreditable lie. Instead, his back arches, seeking contact, following the path of your fingertips with pitiful desperation. He feels malleable, willing to bend and contort, if only to feel more.

“How can you not think you’re pretty, Spence?” His pants are gone next, then his stained boxers, fabric borderline sheer now, soaked through with pre-cum.

Spencer feels betrayed. His body never responds, not to his own hands, not to his own thoughts. And yet, the moment you’re on him, he’s a live-wire. It’s sick, heinous, double-crossing. Maybe it’s purposeful, done just to spite him. Figures.

“Holy shit, look at you. Look at how perfect you are.” Spencer wants to object, because he distinctly told you not to praise him. However,.. right now, the lights are on but nobody is home. Brain-death, he’s certainly in a vegetative state.

“Ohmygodohmygod,” he whimpers, because no amount of knowledge about human anatomy and physiology could prepare him for how he feels under your touch. No amount of education in the psychology of relationships could inform him of how viscerally wrong the way you look at him feels.

Because it’s not wrong, not all. It’s the most right he’s ever felt, and he’ll tell you that if you’ll just keep it up.

The sounds he’s making are phonographic, lewd, you’ve given up on trying to stifle them now. Where have you been hiding? Your eyes fall, and he wants to blush away from the exhibiting gaze, but he’s just…. too far gone; the thought of your touch outweighs any previous reticence. Then, oh then, you drop to your knees, and shit. He expected your thigh, maybe your hand if he was lucky, not—

This. Your mouth, your tongue, your pretty lips; god, god, is this a sin? Because if it is, he’ll take it.

“Please,” he whines, and he can’t look anymore because the sight alone is going to send him over the edge. He’s gripping the wall, scrambling scrambling for purchase, because he’s trying not to grip you, but how exactly does he keep this respectful?

He’s pretty sure they’re past that, considering your mouth is currently wrapped around his cock, and he’s debauched.

You want this, you want him, he feels like he’s transcended humanity, like he’s become someone, anyone and anything, that deserves the way you’re taking him apart, piece by piece. In the aftermath, he hopes you don’t leave a single ounce of him intact.

“Wanna kiss you. Oh— oh oh,” he’s sobbing now, “Come back here. Miss your mouth— even if it’s,” he looks down and that’s a mistake. “Please.”

Of course it would be Spencer to disrupt the best (and admittedly only) head of his life because he needs you closer.

You oblige, raising from your knees, and Spencer thinks it might be sacrilegious. But then again, he feels religion in your touch so it can’t be too profane. Maybe? He’s not sure, he’s not sure and it doesn’t matter. Ethics and morality have long since disintegrated, sins are engrained into humankind. He almost wants to thank Eve for tearing into the apple, because it’s allowed this irreverence to occur.

Spencer blindly follows you through the apartment, stumbling and muttering until he can collapse against the bed. Baring his pretty neck as his head hits the bedframe. Tangled in sheets, draped over his lap, his deft fingers run across your waist, mapping out the structure of your frame. If only to remember, recite this act of blasphemy.

“Spence,” you whisper, and then his lips are crashing into yours, stealing breath, stealing sanity. He whimpers, murmurs a protest when you draw back, and you can only laugh. “Lets get you off, yeah? You wanna feel an orgasm, pretty boy?”

“Yes, yes please. That would uh— yes.” he’s not even sure how he’s conscious right now. His body, god his body, has endured more pleasure in the last hour than it has for the majority of his life. Your hands scathe, and Spencer is willing to indefinitely burn, if just to feel them one more time.

You only stop to take off your clothes, and surely there needs to be prep? To reaffirm, he knows anatomy, the correct procedure, how the transgression is supposed to occur. And yet, that’s from a clinical, objective mindset. Do this, do that, etc etc. Nothing works out like that in practice.

You’re so wet, panties stained through, he spares a moment to run his fingers across your thighs, hand slipping beneath fabric to graze your clit. The moan that follows has him distracted, thumb tracing circlets, over and over until you’re pulling back to return the balance. The balance, which admittedly is skewed, tipped scales, you’re on top. He falls to the weight of your influence.

And yeah, he’s more than fine with that. Jesus, you drag your panties down, down your thighs, your legs, then they’re reaching your ankles, pooling there for a moment before they’re being discarded, tossed somewhere on his floor — leaving behind a souvenir that yes, yes this happened.

“I can’t,” he says, burying his face into your shoulder when you take him. It’s slow, sinking onto his cock like every inch of warmth will destroy him. Maybe it will. Maybe he doesn’t care, because he deserves this. He deserves to feel after so much repression.

Or maybe, maybe he’s just become the biggest slut known to mankind. Likely.

Your body presses against his, and he thinks he’s going to disintegrate, because he feels so good. He understands now, he understands why people do this. Why it’s integral to the function of most. This is the best day of his life. This. Is. The. Best. Day. Of. His. Life.

There’s this noise, this pathetically loud whimper when you start to roll your hips— and oh your body is wet against him, and you’re so tight, and it’s perfect because he doesn’t have to do anything.

He can just sit here, look pretty, and cry.

He knows he’s a giver, that he’d bleed himself dry for you. It’s a curse, he supposes: so willing to bend backwards for the satisfaction of the people he trusts. But, this is foreign, and he wants to watch you, aimlessly stare, dumb and empty-headed as you wield his body like a weapon. Turn him into something perniciously yours.

Spencer has no reference for what an orgasm is supposed to feel like, and yeah, he’s really good at guessing in these type of situations. Because he’s rolling his thumb over your clit again, and he wants to draw it into his mouth, to see you laid out across bedsheets, writhing, unable to do anything but suffocate him with your thighs.

You clench around him, back arched, releasing a series of strained moans. With one hand tangled in his dishevelled hair, the other pressed against his chest, your face contorts, your body stiffens. There’s no way his incessant whimpering just got you off?

Okay. So you like him desperate. Point taken.

“Please— please, wanna cum. Wanna feel it so bad,” he’s slurring over his words, sentences punctured by devastating whimpers. And look at him, asking for permission, waiting even though his body has been teetering on the edge for so long now.

“Shh, shh..” you press your forehead against his, and he melts. Reoccurring theme. His hand grips your jaw, thumb pushed firmly against your chin, keeping you close. “You wanna cum for me, baby? Gonna give me your first?”

“Mhm— mhm…” is all he can say. When you pick up your pace, he has to burrow his face into the crook of your neck, whimpers messy and broken off, suppressed against your warm skin.

“Oh. Oh…” he repeats, again. Like there’s anything else he could utter, because this is earth-shattering.

It’s the sun, and all eight planets combined, and the universe collapsing in on itself, and he’s bucking, squirming, releasing into you, spilling deep.

He sobs. Breaks down. Because it’s so so good, and he can’t believe he ever deprived his body of this.

Neediest whore to ever exist, apparently.

It takes him a while to come back. Longer to regain motor function, to sink into present day. Life, and expectations, and everything, everything, your touch eradicated.

“Just… just stay like this?” he asks, collapsing against your body after he’s drawn out of you. There’s mess, evidence of your ministrations, but cleanliness seems futile when he’s blissed out, caught in a post-orgasmic haze that yes yes yes he needed so badly.

You card your hands through his hair, watch the way he stares up at you, large, widened eyes, chin resting against your chest. “Hi,” he mutters dumbly.

“Spence,” Spence, Spence, Spence. He could drown himself in that nickname.

“Yeah?” he breathes out.

“You we’re so good—“

He rolls away from you, finding a home for his face in the pillow. “Stop. Stop.” he groans, “Don’t do that. You’re going to destroy me. I’m not… equipped for this, for you. Someone should just sedate me, put me out of my misery, a coma sounds like—“

He tilts his head to the side, relinquishing, “Okay. Sorry. Meltdown over. Can we shower? Then maybe do this again? Which will make the shower inconsequential, I suppose. There’s a new documentary I want to watch, and oh, you still haven’t seen the third Star Wars—“

He’s happy, content, over the fucking moon, to be silenced with your lips. “Yeah,” he murmurs, hand interlocking with yours as you both fall back against the mattress, “Let’s do this again.”

[zombholic]

I needddd more modern Abby relationship au

[your wish is my command, kinda like twisted it up so like … 😔🙌🏽]

MODERN AU — abby anderson

— 🎧　　 ◦ ✺ 　 📽　 ⟢ —

• she would definitely really be into gaming when she has free time, a couple of posters and figurines of her favorite video game characters.

• abby met you in high school but yall never spoke because of two completely different social status’, abby was the captain on her ice hockey team and you only hung out with 3 people, you were social but just never liked anyone.

• you would definitely visit the ice skating rink while there was practice whenever it was scorching hot day, it was always cool there.

• abby would notice you from time to time but mind you she was straight in high school, she thought it was normal to imagine making out with girls.

• abby thought it was completely normal staring at you in your tight shorts that were so close to being dress coded was normal, nothing else … right?

• college rolled around and you both attended the same university, she was focused on getting her degree in civil engineering ( @atomicami ) while you were there more for the college experience always switching majors because you’re very indecisive.

• you would constantly see that girl at every party you went to, she was definitely very popular while you stayed keeping to yourself and your 3 friends.

• at one party you got a little too rowdy since it was a halloween party and the music was just feeling too good not to feel cocky for once (escapism was def playing.)

• you had your drink in one hand dancing around, finally feeling yourself for once until your turned around too quickly causing you to crash into that blonde who was built like a fucking brick wall you drink falling on the both of you.

“What the fuck!” She shouted through the loud music booming throughout the house “I’m so sorry! let me help you!” You grabbed her hand and lead her to the bathroom where the music faded in the background when the door shut.

You grabbed the hand towel that was hanging by the mirror and quickly started pat her dry “I’m so sorry dude, i’ll buy you a new costume.” She couldn’t keep her eyes off of you for some reason.

“No, it’s fine. Hey didn’t we go to high school together?” She sparked up a conversation, you nodded to her response “Yeah, it’s like I saw you all the time but we never talked.” You giggled while she had a small smile creeping on her face.

• after that day she asked for you number and you guys talked to each other 24/7 she basically became your best friend.

• you two would hangout at her apartment all the time playing Minecraft together, you would give her Minecraft flowers while she was there tryna survive.

• the relationship between you two was always so flirty and touchy, you hated when anyone would touch you or even show you affection but when it was Abby you swore you melted every time.

• whenever you two went anywhere together that had a lot of people she kept her arm wrapped around your waist securely, didn’t want your little ass running off.

• one day at her apartment it was in the middle of the night and you guys had the zoomies, running around the apartment and play fighting.

“Your punches feel like pebbles being thrown at me.” Abby teased before grabbing your wrists with one hand and twisting them behind your back.

“Abby that fucking hurts you slut!” You and Abby always have been rough with each other ever since you became friends, don’t know why though?

“Slut? Did you call me a slut you weirdo.” She hollered as she threw you over her shoulder and slapped your ass so hard you almost cried but the wetness in your panties said something else. “You slap too fucking hard can you don’t you fucking buffalo built bitch.” You returned the favor and slapped her ass back.

Abby sat you down on the kitchen counter as she stood between your legs “You’re so annoying.” She teased with a stupid cocky grin that you wanted to kiss slap off her face, you rolled your eyes at her.

“What’re you doing for Valentine’s day?” You tilted your head looking up at her through your lashes, god every time you looked at her like that her stomach twisted in so many ways. “Why? tryna ask me out?” You pushed her shoulder playfully you tried to hide the little smile that was forming on your face.

“You’re gross no, I wanted to know so we can make each other baskets.” You and Abby had started this cute tradition with each other whenever a special holiday came around rather it be halloween, birthday or valentines day or even if one of you guys were feeling yall would make comfort baskets for each other.

“I wish we could hang that day but I gotta date.” You felt your whole body tense up, sitting up straight you swallowed thickly “With who? you’re like supposed to tell me everything.” You farrowed your brows, crossing your arms over your chest.

• she went on a fucking date with nora, your felt your heart ache so painfully when you saw her insta story with her and nora kissing with the caption “prettiest first date 💟”

• lets say you started avoiding her like the plague, you basically went no contact with her, didn’t block her you just muted her on everything.

• abby was genuinely so heartbroken that her best friend was avoiding her, every since valentines day she just couldn’t seem to ever see you again. even on days where she would usually see you in your spot you weren’t there, like you vanished off the face of the earth.

• god she blowed up your phone like crazy it physically pained you to avoid her but you refused to be the best friend who has feelings while shes in a relationship, you couldn’t do that to her.

— 🎧　　 ◦ ✺ 　 📽　 ⟢ —

authors note — god forbid i make a happy fucking story 😔🙌🏽

[nekropsii]

People in the Cronus v. Vriska debate will also completely ignore that Cronus. Really wants to kill people. He just says that. No obfuscation included.

He doesn’t even have any excuse for it. Vriska killing people makes sense because she grew up on Alternia and had to feed her Lusus. Cronus just wants to kill people because he wants to do murder-eugenics and is really fucking mad murder-eugenics isn’t legal and does in fact have social consequences. Cronus just wants to kill disabled people for being disabled and not get in trouble for it. He explicitly says he wishes culling “meant what it should have” on Beforus.

Vriska was born and raised on Alternia, and that’s not her fault. It is, in fact, an entirely new level of fucking deranged to want Alternian laws to be real. Growing up in a system where killing people deemed below you is okay is different from wishing you lived in a system where killing people deemed below you is okay, because growing up there inherently means that that is already normal to you, while wishing that was the case inherently means it is not normal to you, you just want more harm to befall specific out groups (the lower class, the disabled, etc.) and to hurt more people in more violent ways.

People also love to casually ignore that Cronus is a grown adult. Like, sure, he’s 19, and 19 years old is pretty young in the grand scheme of things, but he is still a grown ass man who knows better. Him knowing better and simply not caring is literally a major part of his character. He is a grown ass man who can make his own legal decisions and live on his own. He can pay taxes. He could buy a house. He could invest in the stock market. In some countries, he can legally drink. He can drive. He can drink and drive. He can go die in the military. He’s grown. He’s a grown ass man. Vriska is 13. That is a child. Like, a CHILD child. Vriska is a middle school child. This is the difference between a middle schooler and a college student. Think of how mentally developed you were at 13. You weren’t even done with puberty yet. You’re not even done growing at that age. Cronus can fucking vote. He can go to adult prison. If you spotted a kid Vriska’s age out roaming the street with no guardian in sight, you’d probably be worried.

A major part of Cronus’s character is that he is a terrible person by choice, willingly, knowingly, and does not care. He is making a decision. Him being shitty and awful is a conscious choice he is making. He knows he is hurting people, and he knows what he is doing is terrible, and he does not care. Cronus knows that trying to bang children 6 years his junior is bad. He doesn’t care. He knows he is abusing Mituna, he calls it abuse, and he knows abuse is bad. He doesn’t care. He knows sex crimes are bad. He doesn’t care. He’s too entitled to care about anyone but himself and his own gratification.

Vriska is a 13 year old anti-hero who literally gets groomed and is shown to only be Like That because she is extremely traumatized and her experience of living on Alternia has made it so her guard is up 24/7. She literally cannot put the metaphorical swords down. She thinks it’s the only thing keeping her alive.

Cronus does not have an excuse.

That is, like… The Point.

The point is that he sucks and is irredeemable. He doesn’t have a single quality that makes standing around him worthwhile. He’s a relentless, unapologetic abuser. He just doesn’t care. He’s the most entitled man to ever live. He sees people as punching bags and sex toys, and any time this notion is rejected or faces even the slightest pushback, he freaks the fuck out about it.

And the point with Vriska is that she is complicated, and a child. A really, really traumatized, really, really scared child.

I don’t know, I think there’s a party here that is objectively worse.

… And - hear me out! - I think… I think it’s the adult sex predator… And not the child.

[drdemonprince]

I was wondering if you have any thoughts on age gaps in relationships? I really struggle with basically everybody talking about this. I’ve seen a lot of grooming in my friends/community, where I can see they’ve normalized some of the abuse they’ve been through and say stuff like “age is just a number” and then also continue to take advantage of people younger than them + in disempowered situations. And this feels obviously bad and more common than at least how much we collectively acknowledge it. And then I also see people who obsess over the number 18 and legal adulthood that makes no sense to me. Like all the “age in bio!!!” 18+ nonsense on tumblr that doesn’t actually seem like it would do anything to protect or help kids in any way. Or like how consent laws often treat 18 (or some other age) as suddenly when you’re able to consent to any other age but certainly when I turned 18 and the years after that I felt exploited by people older than me. But then I also know that people have positive relationships with people much older/younger than them, you talk about this. So how do we actually talk about this stuff without falling into bad thinking?

I think people need to adopt a far richer understanding of the many dynamics of power that enter into any kind of relationship, and realize that a relationship having a power dynamic within it does not preclude it from being a kind of relationship that can and does often happen. We should be operating out of the assumption that human beings will continue to get into relationships, some of them abusive, and that we must find a means of providing for them when they wish to escape rather than restricting their autonomy or believing that there is a singular type of person who can be easily identified as abusive.

Most human relationships, romantic or not, are impacted in some way by differences in age, gender, race, access to financial resources, and other sources of power. We have to ask ourselves whether the state should ever have a role in managing the power dynamics that emerge in human relationships or in determining which kinds of relationships are permitted to exist. I do not think it should. I don't think the state can ever be trusted to manage human affairs in a way that benefits the people with less power.

There are a variety of aspects of a person's status in the world with regard to power that is often related to their age, but rarely in a straightforward way -- ability level, financial standing, sexual and romantic experience, legal personhood, education, and established social connections are *related* to age, but it's not the case that every older person has more of these things than every younger person, and indeed, as we grow older, we often lose access to many of these things and become far more disempowered.

There are also a variety of intersections such as race, gender, legal disability, and citizenship status that dramatically influence whether a person is ever even seen as "an adult human being" under the eyes of the law. Many people who are adults in age-wise do not have that legal and social standing of "full human adulthood" and that is relevant to these things.

Of course, when people ask about this they don't always care to know my views on the law (I don't think there should be an age at which you become a person, I think everybody should be a full person no matter their age), they also want to have what emotionally troubles them about the abuse of minors to be soothed. And to that I will say yeah, like a lot of people I was sexualized as a child in ways that seriously damaged me, I have seen many exploitative relationships between older people and younger people (as well as the reverse), and when I see a thirty-something dating a teenager I do think it's gross as fuck at best.

I just don't really think the state declaring that certain highly vulnerable categories of people are not people is ever going to be a strong defense against abuse. I think it makes abuse more likely and legally facilitates it in fact. I think, as troubling as it might be for us to wrap our heads around from under the current paradigm, giving all people body autonomy and full legal personhood and providing all people the resources they need to live comfortably and safely are the way that we minimize relational abuse of all kinds. Not just adults dating and abusing minors, but adult children abusing their senile parents, white partners abusing their Black loved ones, non-physically-disabled people abusing the disabled people they are supposed to be caretaking, and on and on.

[mypearlsareclutched]

If This Is All That's Real

High By The Beach | Chapter Seven

Modern!Aegon II x Original Female Character, Modern!Aemond x Original Female Character

Life is now getting better, slowly but surely, for both Mila Stark and Aegon Targaryen. Perhaps there is hope for the future, if they can continue to keep things uncomplicated. But how long can things be uncomplicated when you're fucking your ex-boyfriends older brother in their family beach house?

This feels the tiniest little bit fillery, but it's got some very steamy smut, romance and some good angsty feels. Next chapter is written and will be posted later today so you guys don't have to suffer for long <3 Enjoy!!! x

Song inspiration | High By The Beach, Lana Del Rey

CW//TW: Sexual Content (MDNI, 18+), PIV sex, catching feelings, mentions of toxic families, romantic smut, love confessions during the deed, ye olde climax, discussions of the future, Aegon is so OOC because he's just a lil sweetie pie in this, not lore accurate.

Word count | 3.5k

previous chapter // next chapter

And so they began their... relationship? Friends with benefits situationship, that sounds better.

Over the next week, life became simple. For the first time since her parents died, Mila Stark knew what it was like to feel normal. Like her life wasn't some social experiment created by the gods to see how much one girl can take.

And it seemed like Aegon felt the same.

They slept early and woke up late, wrapped up in soft sheets that cover their bare bodies. They cooked together, and ate breakfast on the beach. They spent their days occupying their time with . Aegon would draw, Mila would read, sat together on the dusty living room sofa with her legs over his. As the sun set, they wrapped themselves up in each other, basking in mind-numbing, no strings attached sex.

They were best friends who fucked like lovers. There's nothing wrong with that, right?

But when he held her gently in the mornings, pressing her back to his chest as he snored gently, his hands wrapped around her protectively, Mila wondered if there was more to their relationship.

Aemond never cuddled. The most Mila could get was an arm wrapped around her after they made love. Sometimes he would wake up holding her, but she could never bask in that. When he woke, he would rush off immediately. Like holding her would ruin the peace that they had.

'Afraid to get too close,' is what Halaena had said to her once. Aemond had her, yet he kept her at arm's length. It seemed like Aegon had the opposite problem. He knew she wasn't his, so he cherished the moments he had her in his space. Arms wrapped around her like she was his.

And as she watched his peaceful, sleeping face in the mornings, Mila truly wished she was.

Mila stands at the window, looking out at the ocean beyond. She held the pay-as-you-go phone in her hand, flipping it around as she watched the waves crash against the rocks.

She needed to talk to her brother. After Aegon's insistence the morning after their first night together, Mila sent Cregan a text message. Aegon had rolled his eyes, stating she needed to grow a pair and talk to him face to face. Cregan had yet to respond, so Mila knew she needed to actually call him.

Sighing, she switched on the phone, listening to the twinkling beeping sound as she nervously bit her thumb nail. Once the phone was on, she put in the sim card. Typing in Cregan's number, she held it to her ear listening to it ring.

"Please don't pick up, please don't pick up, please don't pick up."

"Hey, you've reached Cregan Stark. Sorry I missed your call, leave a message at the beep."

The phone beeps, and Mila takes a sharp breath, "Hey, Creg. It's, uh, it's Mila. I'm okay, I'm safe. I left Weirwood with Aegon... you know, Aemond's brother? I was having a tough time. I needed to get away. But I'm somewhere safe, please don't worry about me. I'll see you soon. I love you."

Ending the call, she takes another deep breath, exhaling sharply she presses the screen of the phone to her forehead, swallowing her nerves and guilt like a bitter pill.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Aegon's soft voice asks.

Mila turns around and sees him standing in the doorway, leaning against it casually.

"My thoughts cost more than a penny." She jokes, putting the phone down on the chest of drawers.

"I'll take out a loan." He states as he walks further into the room.

"Or you could use your dad's totally not stolen credit card." Mila chuckles, meeting him halfway.

"You called your brother?" Asks Aegon as he takes Mila's hand in his own, smoothing his thumb over her knuckles.

"I tried. Went to voicemail."

"He's a busy guy. You know, being a famous footballer and all. He's probably got a big game, or something. You know, with like... kicking and... goals? Never really liked sports, me." Aegon laughs as he pulls Mila over to the bed, sitting down as she stands in between his legs. He runs his hands over her arms, waiting for her to speak.

"Yeah..." Mila sighs, "He's probably really busy. Wish we had access to the internet in this literal abyss."

"Gwayne was a dude of the eighties he never cared for Wi-Fi. I think that's why Daeron decided to return to the modern age the second he was old enough to go to uni."

"I feel very amish."

"Hey, look on the brightside." Aegon states as he takes her hands in his, "We're completely disconnected from the modern world. No crazy articles about our every move. We're not seeing anything about..." He stops himself, his voice fading as he inadvertently reminds Mila about the reason why she's here.

Aemond was never too far from her thoughts, always lingering in the back of her mind like some kind of phantom. She can see her eyes when she wakes from a nightmare, feel his fingers on her when the autumn breeze sends a chill through her. Her love, which once felt sweet like , had now turned bitter and cold.

Mila shakes her head, as if she could rid herself of her memories and lingering feelings if she tossed her head around a little bit harder. Like bashing the bottom of a jar to loosen a stuck coin or something. Yet, Aemond remains inside her thoughts.

"It's okay, Aeg." Mila sighs, shrugging, "You're right. It's good to not hear anything about him."

Aegon stares at her, big blue eyes sad as he watches her face. His fingers play with hers, a nervous tick of his she had gotten used to. More than gotten used to, she found herself adoring it. She looks down at their hands, smiling softly to herself.

Loosening their hands, Aegon leans back on the bed. Mila furrows her eyebrows, concern evident on her features. But a cheeky grin appears on the Targaryen's full lips, as spreads his legs slightly.

"Come here and let me fuck the sad out of you." Aegon murmurs, beckoning her closer. She chuckles despite herself, following him over.

"I think you overestimate your abilities, Aegon Targaryen." Mila chuckles as she climbs on top of him, straddling his waist.

"Oh, it's gonna be like that is it?" He laughs, burying his face into her neck. Mila presses her lips to his temple, running her hands over his messy hair.

Their clothes are discarded quickly, leaving Aegon bare beneath Mila as she straddles him. As her lips descend upon his shoulders, she doesn't notice the soft, conflicted look in the Targaryen's eyes.

"Hey! Gettup, now, I found something!"

Mila groans as she is pulled out of her sleep, unceremoniously. Blinking, she sees the sun has barely risen, golden rays poking through the thin curtains. Loud footsteps surround her, a sigh coming from someone across the room.. A pillow hits her face, and she squeals, tossing the pillow away as she runs a hand over her face.

"What, Aegon? You fucking child..." She groans.

"I said, I found something!" He laughs as he rushes back out the room.

"What, a body?" Mila groans as she stands up, grabbing her discarded shirt and throwing it on. Her bare feet pad across the bedroom, heading out to the open plan of the rest of the house.

Aegon sits cross legged in the living room, searching through a water stained cardboard box.

"Whatcha got there?" Mila asks, raising her eyebrow. Aegon smiles as he looks up at her, grabbing a mug from the coffee table to offer it to her.

"Sorry I woke you up so aggressively, I got excited. Peace offering?"

"You made me coffee?" Mila took the mug, looking down at the caramel coloured liquid. A few days ago, Mila convinced him to get a coffee machine from the holy land (big Tesco). She then had the joyous experience of watching him try and fail to figure the machine out.

"I finally read the manual." Aegon says proudly, "You do take it with milk, and two and a half sugars, right? I'm gonna be so pissed at myself if I got that wrong."

"That's right." Mila chuckles, eyebrows raised, "How did you know that?"

"You told me."

"You listened?"

"You seem shocked." Aegon chuckled, shaking his head as he refocused on rifling through the box. Mila tries to bite back the wide smile at the sweet gesture, choosing to instead take a seat next to Aegon.

"What is this?" She asks as she peers into the large, withered box. It's full of old books, covered in a layer of dust. From her position, she can read a few of the titles, 'Pride and Prejudice', 'Alice in Wonderland', 'Twelfth Night', 'The Secret Garden'...

"They belonged to my grandmother." Aegon explains, "Gwayne kept them when she passed. She loved old books."

"They're lovely." Mila says wistfully as Aegon hands her an ancient copy of Mary Shelley's 'Frankenstein'. Her fingers glide across the leather cover, the bumps of the words catching against her callouses. She cradles it in her hands, smiling giddily.

"Gwayne gave them to Daeron when he came to live with him, but like the sixteen year old boy he was, he preferred comics and playboy mags."

"Classy." She chuckles, accepting more books he handed to her.

"I thought you could have them."

Mila looks at him, mouth agape, "What?"

"You can have them." Aegon smiles, piling more of the classic books into piles, "You know, because of the book shop you want to own? I know there aren't tons, but you've got to start somewhere, right?"

She stares at him, taken back. It's an unbelievably sweet gesture, and one she never expected. Her dream of a book shop seemed too distant, too unreachable in her chaotic life in the spotlight. But it was like Aegon was handing her not a bunch of old books, but hope. Hope for her dream of a simple, happy life.

As Aegon sits beside her, rambling and piling books into her arms, Mila watches his profile, feeling herself blush.

The afternoon sun beats down on the two of them as they sit on the beach, side by side like they come as a pair.

Aegon lies spread out like a starfish, alien sunglasses on. His button up floral shirt is open, revealing his pale, freckled skin to the afternoon sun. Mila sits next to him, her dark curls whipping in her face as she

A whirring, distant noise catches Mila's attention. It sounds like a bee, and she flicks her hair around trying to find the bug in question. But as she looks around, she sees the source of the disturbance is not an insect.

A speedboat floats distantly, so far that the Stark has to squint to really see it. It was not unusal for other people to walk the hidden cove beyond the Hightower summer home, but boats were a rare occurance. People usually kept to the vibrant beaches near the city, the smaller beach they were on was too far from the rest of civilisation for folks to make the

Mila watches the speedboat, a prickling sense of dread creeping up her spine when it drifts closer. It carries a singular man, tall and lithe, bald and wearing a pair of thin sunglasses. His appearence does not irk her.

It's the fact he's staring right at her and Aegon.

Said Targaryen twitches next to her, before letting out a yelp and jumpinh up. Mila's attention is diverted to him, eyebrows furrowed as he shakes his head like a dog, whipping his sunglasses off.

"What?" Mila asks, concerned.

"Crab." He shudders, pointing at the offending, orange creature who clicks its pincers and trudges along the sand.

"Jeez, Aeg, it's teeny. It's more afraid of you than you are of it."

"I guarantee you it is not."

Mila rolls her eyes, watching the crab scuttle away back to the shores. Her eyes look back at the rest of the sea.

The speedboat is gone.

As night settles over Old Town, Mila giggles as she finishes washing the dishes. Aegon presses incessant kisses to her neck from behind.

"Jeez, Aegon, give me a second." She laughs, feeling his hands wander over her hips and waist.

"Mm, no, horny." Aegon groans against her neck, biting the nape as she squirms and elbows him.

"You're insatiable." Mila rolls her eyes playfully, grabbing a rag and drying her hands as Aegon returns to running his hands over her hips. She smiles as she kisses him, melting against Aegon as he kisses her just how she likes.

Just like that, they find themselves entwined on the bed. Naked, flushed bodies moving together rhythmically. Mila moans beneath Aegon, wrapping her legs further around his torso as she takes him deeper and deeper, feeling the tip of him kissing her sweet spot.

"Right there, right there." She pleads, throwing her head back. Aegon whines, pounding into her harder just how she likes. His head hangs down, eyebrows furrowed with the effort.

Her hands grasp onto his waist, aiding his movements, her fingernails digging into his plush skin. It spurs him on, making his noises louder and breathier as they both get closer to their climaxs.

A well angled thrust makes Mila keen and gasp out Aegon's name like a prayer, sending the blonde man reeling as he presses his face into her neck.

"Fuck, I love you, I love you." Aegon murmurs breathily.

Mila's gasp gets stuck in her throat, her eyes opening as she looks up at the dark ceiling. His words shock her, startling her to her core. His face remains in her neck, his hot breath against her skin. He kisses along the place that connects her neck and her shoulder, whispering words of praise and love against her, lost in his own world.

Pleasure courses through her veins, overtaking her shock at his sudden admission. She moans low in her throat, clenching her eyes closed as she tries to push back rational thought.

He ravages her body, bringing her to the precipice of euphoria, begging her to give it to him. As she finishes, he praises her, lips ghosting the shell of her ear as her body shudders, sending him to his own end.

"I love you..." Aegon groans out as he finishes, snapping his hips repeatedly as he fucks his spend inside of her.

Mila focuses on recatching her breath, eyes fluttered closed. She can feel Aegon collapse beside her, his arms wrapping around her and his sweaty forehead pressing against her shoulder.

She runs her hands over his arms, letting sleep take her over and wash away her sudden whirlwind of emotions...

...But those emotions were waiting for her when she awoke.

Mila sits on a loveseat outside the house, biting her lip nervously as she stares out at the gentle ebbing and flowing of the ocean waves.

"Fuck, I love you, I love you..."

His words echo around her head. The feeling of his hands on her, his lips pressing to her skin, his hips pounding against hers as he fucks her relentlessly, it is all fresh on her mind. It sends shivers through her, pleasent feelings of euporia like her body had ingrained Aegon's fucking into her mind so well it could repeat it when he wasn't around.

But his admission frightened her.

Why? Because it made everything complicated.

When they met at Weirwood, she managed to seperate him from her life outside of the clinic. Aegon was just another recovering addict who helped her through her detox, sitting by her bedside and holding her hair back when she threw up into her bin.

But her trecherous body found itself drawn to him, and feelinsg she was all too familiar with appeared out of the blue. And all of sudden he was no longer just another recovering addict, but her ex-boyfriends recovering addict brother who she was attracted to.

Mila tried to run from it, tried to go back to her old life and let her harmful coping mechanisms destroy the seed of affection growing inside of her. But Aegon found her. He saved her, he helped her. She was drowning and he was offering a hand back to the surface.

When he devoured her on the beach, she let the drugs push away any lingering affections. And when she couldn't push them away any longer, she convinced herself he was only her friend. When he was deep inside her, not only her body but her soul, she told herself he was only her friend. He only saw her as a friend. All of this means nothing...

But it means something. It always did. From the very beginning, it meant something.

The way he made her head spin and her heart ache and her body blush and her smile reappaer from nowhere... that meant something. It meant everything.

But he was her ex's brother. Aemond Targaryen's brother. How could she let the

Why is everything so fucking complicated.

Footsteps interrupt her internal ramble, her head snapping to the side to see Aegon walking towards her. He's shirtless, grey joggers hanging low on his hips. She can see marks left from her fingernails left on his waist, and she looks away with a sharp intake of breath.

Aegon says nothing as he takes a seat next to her on the love seat. He runs a hand through his hair, sleepily looking out at the beach. The silence is not awkward, but it is tense as both of them are left unsure of what to say.

With a sigh, Mila decides to start.

“Did you mean it?” She asks, not turning her head to look at him.

“Yes.” Aegon says without hesitation. Mila closes her eyes, taking a deep breath as she lets his words sink in again, "I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" She asks him, giving him an incredulous look.

"Because this was supposed to be simple." Aegon sighs, running his hands over his face, "You left Weirwood to escape how complicated things became. I brought you here so you could heal, but instead we shagged and I fell in love with you."

"That's not your fault."

"Maybe it is..." Aegon turns to her and reaches over to take her hand in his, "I should have been more careful. I knew... I knew from the beginning that you were special. Different, good. Better than I deserve. Every moment I spent at your side, I found myself needing to be near you. You make me feel alive, you make me feel normal. I should have been more careful when I let myself touch you on the beach, because I knew that it be so easy to fall for you."

"Aegon, stop..." Mila stands, taking a few steps away, holding her hand to her mouth.

"Em." He says softly, and she turns to him. Aegon gives her a sad smile, choosing his words carefully.

"I said it before and I'll say it again; You're the best thing that's happened to me in a while, maybe even ever." Aegon takes her hand in his own, pressing it to his chest, “I love you.”

Mila takes a shuddering breath, covering his hand with her own. He presses his forehead to hers, closing his eyes as he basks in her closeness.

They sit on the loveseat, Aegon's head resting on Mila's chest. Their fingers are intertwined, and Mila watches them with half closed eyes.

Aegon has a small tattoo on the back of his hand, of a tiny green bird in a little golden cage. Mila smoothes her thumb over it, tracing the jagged lines with a featherlight touch.

A distant noise startles her out of her daze, and she looks around for the source. Aegon lifts his head, eyebrows furrowed as he looks towards the front door.

The sound of a car can be heard driving closer, and the two share a confused look as they go back inside the house. Aegon leaves first, and Mila follows him to stand in the doorway.

A black SUV parks next to Aegon's battered ford fiesta, and Aegon freezes on the porch, his hands clenching into fists beside him.

Mila's bros furrow, wondering who on earth could be here. As the person steps out of the car, she gasps, taking a step back from the door. His pale, lone eye moves from Aegon to Mila, his blonde hair swaying in the beach breeze. No fucking way...

Aemond fucking Targaryen.

AN// Yuh! He's back! Aemond 'surprise bitch I bet you thought you'd seen the last of me' Targaryen. This is definitely only going to bring good things for Mila and Aegon, Emiliaegon if you will (please don't, that's actually awful). See y'all soon, sending love <3

Lula x

[punkeropercyjackson]

I really resent the idea Hobie isn't traumatized or has no mental health problems/emotional issues because he's so clearly an allegory for the adultification of black kids(and therefore actually one)like how Gwen is obviously an allegory for trans girls(and therefore actually one).The most you'll get out of Atsv fans on it is 'he grew up too fast' but they never go in depth into how much it must've hurt him and who hurt him.Society as a whole,no duh,but in the comics,he's implied to be an orphan and the only incarnations we have of his parents are his dad abandoning him as a baby and his mom turning abusive over it.That's what adultification,objectively,is-Child abuse.Hobie's not 'practically an adult',he is mentally and physically a minor and he was robbed of the right to be one nonstop,systematically.He had to fight for his right to exist,he has to fight for others right to exist and he dosen't really get to rest and just feel like a real kid all that often.Plus,realistically,Hobie isn't looked on positively in his world and that would do damage to anybody's self-eestem as a highly profilic public figure but especially to a black child and while he's the coolest ever the whole time,i can't buy he's always known that and i'll bet he was told the opposite by other kids growing up and how socially awkward he is sometimes makes me think his number of friends wasn't all that high and a common experience amongst alt/punk black kids is isolation and bullying from other children for being 'weird' and there's the confirmation he used to be homeless before his houseboat so the orphan status seems to be carried over to this take on him too

I know he wasn't onscreen for as long as Gwen so i don't fault people for not recognizing this and focusing moreso on her explicit traumatic experiences,moreover since it tends to involve him comforting her and i'm a sucker for troubled kid solidarity and romance,most of all since this one is canonically t4t and possibly transmasc4transfem specifically and even punk4punk too instead of them 'he was a punk,she did ballet' poserpills

Still,lack of screentime never stopped anyone for making up tons of tragic aus for Pavitr and even The Spot and erasing Jefferson and Rio to do with them Miles too as if Miles G dosen't exist and pulled it off infinitely better than any fanon alternative universe Miles i've ever encountered.This is going to get some people tweaking too but this is also exactly why i hate No.irpunk and even the platonic concept of Hobie instantly respecting Noir.Hobie has much more street cred than Noir and way heavier trauma and Noir isn't even punk-He's an antifa but punk is a culture,not just an ideology and i find it an unearned superiority complex N/H shippers will disregard Hobie's actual romantic chemistry with Gwen based on her loving him for who he is and giving somebody to bond over mutual interests with and heal his inner child in the process to say he should be a freedom fighter and nothing more,as if he's not a 17 year old black boy and Noir very,VERY likely a middle aged white man who's culture(not punk)(judaism)is against pedophillic relathionships as a religious rule.There's no evidence for Hobie being an adult but there's plenty borderline text saying he's an adultified black teenager and i wish it was spoken on instead of performative 'lmao fuck captalism' jokes as you buy official Atsv merch and stereotyped sexualization over a character who never got to grow up,not as a 'real kid' nor enough to be in the proper headspace to explore his sexuality as openly as a normal teen

[tanoraqui]

Dungeon Meshi Liveblog: I should make a fucking...(food) web of connected concepts with panels that connect them...

I love how Kabru is just part of this friend group, now. He invited himself and no one's questioning it. Laios invited him to lunch later, and that counts.

.

I love how everyone is varying levels of "oh fuck" until we get to The Current Party, where it's:

Senshi: thinking intently, a little grimly, about how he could butcher and cook this

Marcille: a dash of 'oh fuck', but also sad, in the way of watching a friend slide down a slippery slope

Chilchuck: incredible dad energy on this line, honestly.

.

don't you give my son orders, you piece of shit. you aren't worthy of being lord of anything. you protect nothing, wish to help no one, except your own desires. (The Demon never should've been alive at all. It's not suited to it.)

.

This is gonna look sooo cool animated in color.

.

I might actually be more offended by the demon wearing Kensuke like normal than by the whole wearing of Laios's body? It's so symbolic.

.

I want to know how the ancients achieved that - binding the demon such that, while underground, it could only warp reality in service to a living being's desires. Though really, that seems to be how it's always operated - the only desire it ever expressed for itself was to eat the desires of others. Otherwise, it's only shown fulfilling wishes, before it's locked in the dungeon as well as after.

But I wonder if having a physical form gives it the ability to want more? Does it hunger and third and want to rest, now? DOes it really feel a yearning not just for the completion of its plan, but for the open sky and sight of the world which it hasn't seen in so long?

.

Needless to say, we love a visual parallel.

.

yep, this sure is the Eating Each Other Cyclically chapter! (This is the Eating Each Other Cyclically story, actually. It's called the ecosystem!)

.

oh I hate this actually. It's scary in a real way. I do not like being forced to acknowledge that Chilchuck is much, much smaller, weaker and more fragile than Laios. I do not like seeing him curled up and helpless and unable to ever reconnect with his family.

.

Freak cubed! Actually, how many times has it gone back and forth, now...?

the lion swallowed all of them

Laios ate hte lion in order to swap bodies (ish)

honestly I feel like the demon being counts as eating him in turn. Making Laios's body part of itself, you know? That's eating.

(monster!)Laios ate demon(!Laios)

demon(!Laios) is now eating (monster!)Laios

...so, Freak^5

.

The parallel to Marcille snapping at Laios to drop the plant seeds in Chapter 2... Love how every now and then people resort to yelling at this man like he's a dog. Truly, he is a beagle of all time (eats Things) ('Things' is an unlimited category of which the details are best left unknown)

.

THIS IS IT, BITCHES! THESIS TIME!! I'M GONNA USE "IF AND ONLY IF LIKE IT'S A GODDAMN MATHEMATICAL PROOF, BECAUSE THAT'S HOW THIS HAS BEEN PRESENTED THROUGHOUT!

LIVING IFF EATING IFF HUNGERING IFF WANTING.

TO DO ONE IS TO DO THEM ALL, FOR EVERY ENTITY IN EXISTENCE: EVERY RACE, EVERY CREATURE.

LIVING AND DYING, EATING AND KILLING AND BEING KILLED AND BEING EATEN, ARE ALL SIDES OF THE SAME COIN. YOU WILL DO BOTH.

IT'S CALLED THE ECOSYSTEM.

And it applies to social structures as well as biomes btw.

YOU WILL ALWAYS EAT, AND THEN YOU WILL ALWAYS HUNGER FOR THE NEXT MEAL. BECAUSE YOU ARE STILL ALIVE.

Which is why hunger(/living) is poisonous to this infinite being, btw: the cycle is infinite, sure, but specifically because any single creature within the cycle is finite. To exist as part of the cycle, the world, breaks the infinite being, even as the infinite being inevitably destroys the world.)

But most of all:

EATING (IFF BEING EATEN IFF LIVING IFF WANTING) IFF UNDERSTANDING IFF BEING CONNECTED/BEING PART OF

THE FUNDAMENTAL [DESIRE/HUNGER/LIFE EXPERIENCE/CONNECTION/SHARED UNDERSTANDING] OF BEING ALIVE IN THIS WORLD IS [EATING/LIVING/DYING/KILLING/WANTING/HUNGERING/BEING CONNECTED/UNDERSTANDING OTHERS/BEING UNDERSTOOD/WANTING TO BE UNDERSTOOD/WANTING TO UNDERSTAND/WANTING TO BE CONNECTED]

...WHICH DOES ALSO INCLUDE (MONSTERFUCKER) VORE

(This is the fucking...Theseus wrestling the Minotaur statue...of this world... People are going to make this statue of King Laios Eating the Demon... It's going to be in museums...and in the palace... The true curse here is that Marcille is going to have to see versions of this motif for her entire excruciatingly long life...)

[ivysangel]

listen, i think smut is great. i read it, i write it, i think about way more than is probably considered healthy, but i don't think it should be as readily accessible in bookstores as it is right now, and especially without warnings.

i went to barnes & noble with my friend a few weeks ago and in the front of the store was this humongous romance section that had hundreds of those booktok romance books that was trending now. i wish i had a picture to show you guys just how big it was, because there were like six or so book cases and then this big table with some "romantic summer reads".

naturally, because it's what's trending right now, so many of the books had those really cute cartoon couple drawings. you know the one's where the two mc's are standing next to each other, or back to back, or hugging or smth (ykwim) and all of them were completely innocent looking and not marked as having adult content in any way. this isn't my first rodeo or anything, so i know that a really good chunk of these books have graphic sex written in them despite having no warnings or indicators of such content. and sure enough as me and my friend are flipping through them we're seeing all of the graphic depictictions of sex that if you were just reading the blurb on the back you would not know existed in the book.

the rationale i've seen from a lot of the authors and readers of the book are that they want something "inconspicuous" that doesn't draw attention to the fact that they're reading smut in public or whatever. and while i understand the sentiment, there's got to be some kind of regulation for this kind of thing. because some kid who's just looking for a cute romance book accidentally picking up smut is actually very bad and shouldn't be normalized in the slightest.

and i always see people saying, "well their parents should be checking the stuff they read anyway" or "i read smut when i was young so i don't see what the problem is" which pisses me off so bad because:

A) i know that when i was younger my mom didn't monitor what i read because the books i was reading were never misleading. both the covers, blurbs, and warnings (if there ever were any) were in line with the content of the books i read and there was no reason to be worried. i'm almost 100% sure that when most parents go to the bookstore with their kid and their child picks up a book with a cute cover, and the info about the plot on the back says nothing about it being anything other than a cute relationship, they don't think anything of it. maybe if it was one of those harlequin novels with the shirtless guys and the ladies with their boobs spilling out of tight dresses they'd tell them to put the book down but because the covers of new age smut books are designed to decieve, that's exactly what they do. decieve. and if it works on your friends and family and everyone around you, why in god's name wouldn't it work on someone's parent.

and B) it's no secret that kids have been reading smut well before they should for ages. i read smut as a kid, some of my friends read smut as kids, lots of people have and will continue to do so, the difference is that it wasn't as mainstream and easily accessible as it is now. not that you had to scour the internet for it, a quick search on wattpad would give you a million results, but it wasn't something that wasn't so publicly advertised, and sold. in my experience, it was the kind of thing that you heard about from a friend who heard about it from another friend not fucking tiktok. the biggest social media platform rn.

i'd also like to point out that if you read smut when you were younger and grew up to not understand how harmful it is, even going as far to encourage kids to read it, you're a huge fucking weirdo. i'm only 18, still very much a "child" by some people's standards, and i get chills when i remember how young i and some of my friends were when we created our first wattpad accounts. which is probably why i care so much about this topic, i don't think children should be exposed to that kind of stuff at all, and i don't like how now anyone of any age can walk into a bookstore and either knowingly or unknowingly pick up some freak nasty sex because a bunch or horny people on tiktok can't understand how harmful it is to have these books in so many places without any warnings whatsoever.

also: this had already gotten so long but i forgot to mention that there's a rising interest in "dark themes" and those books DEFINITELY need a warning. i wrote an essay once on how unregulated darker themed media has contributed to the idealization of toxic relationships in young people, and i'd like to say that right now i think booktok is one of the biggest contributors

[soundtechrapture]

Edgelords, Fetishes, and the Long Term Effects of Cringe Culture.

This is not at all the normal content I post here. This is a much larger vent / ramble than I normally do (it's practically an essay.)

This is a bit of a subjective outlook on this situation purely because I've only really had experience in the eproctophilia community, so I'll be using incidents from it, but I'm sure other fetish communities have gone through similar incidents. Cringe Culture may be pretty much dead, and the 2016 edgelord era is over, but the aftershocks and ramifications of it are still present. I don't know if people realize how fucking isolating it is to have a fetish like this. I never asked for any of this. Why are we such a target? Is it because we're into something that's seen as taboo? Is it because it's funny that people would be into something like this? There's an artist on Twitter I've been following for a while. By the time I went ahead and followed them, they had their account set to private. Earlier today, I checked my followed accounts on Twitter, so I could port them over to Bluesky, and found that I could finally see their content again. Empty, 0 posts, everything wiped without a trace. I know the actions of someone I barely know shouldn't affect me so much, but I can't stop thinking about it. Why? Were they exposed to a hate mob? Was it fear of that outcome? This isn't the first time this community has had a creator get attacked and ridiculed. Back in 2015ish, AnimatedJames got exposed for being into eproctophilia. Now, don't get me wrong, AnimatedJames wasn't exactly a saint. But people weren't attacking him for being a pedo or a rapist. They attacked him for something that was both harmless and out of his control. 2019 comes along, and a similar incident happened to JelloApocalypse but with little long-lasting effects, aside from the odd video here or there. But for something like that to happen now, in 2024, made me realize that cringe culture isn't dead, we've just developed coping mechanisms. Some examples of cringe culture still being around include Reddit, harbouring many cringe culture Subreddits and echo chambers. Cringe compilations appearing on YouTube. And the generally aggressive, hateful mobs that still roam through social media. I'm sure you've noticed how targeted these hate mobs have become, going from TV shows and media they didn't like, to subcultures and sexualities. I don't know what I hope to gain from writing all of this. A more pleasant future for everyone, perhaps? Or maybe I just want someone to listen for a second. A few months back, someone on this account had told me that expressing kink is a form of liberation, activism, self-expression, and normalization. And that by posting, I was making the world more beautiful, queer, and happy by expressing my interests. I guess what I'm hoping to accomplish here is to make the world a little more tolerant, a little nicer, a little bit more empathetic. Maybe some day I can link this account with my main without fear of ridicule. But that feels like wishful thinking right now. Maybe some day, though.

[adminbryantsaki]

Summer

Week Two

Summer

Alpha! Werewolf! Shouta Aizawa x Omega! Human! Reader.

(I do not own Shouta Aizawa/ Eraserhead He and all the characters in My Hero Academia or the Vigilantes spin-off belong to Horikoshi Kohei and Hideyuki Furuhashi. If this isn’t your cup of tea, blend of spices, or brew of coffee, move along. Reader discretion is advised)

TW: Monster fucking, Omegaverse Shenanigans, Reader has social anxiety, public marking/claiming, breeding.

WC:4.020 Masterlist

The summer sun streamed through the windows and into your bedroom. You stretched out and cozied yourself under the blankets. You nuzzled your pillow which smelled of your Alpha’s scent of coffee and pine trees. You reached over to where he would normally be sleeping, smacking the bed sleepily when you felt the sleeping bag there but there was no sign of him. You looked to the bathroom where you heard some water running and watched as your mate, Shouta exited the bathroom, wearing nothing but his black towel around his waist. He looked to you and walked over to the bed. “Are you alright, sweetheart? I heard you whimpering.” He spoke and walked back over to the bed, seeing that you were reaching up to him, telling him that you wanted to be held by him. He chuckled, pulling on some boxers and sweatpants before he crawled into the bed so you could cuddle against him. “You know that we should be getting out of bed and starting the day, right?” He asked as he let you cuddle into his chest and share your warmth with him. You took in his scent since he was fresh out of the shower and buried your face into the crook of his neck. Shouta rubbed your back and kissed your head. “We have a lot of things to do before tonight.” He reminded you as he rubbed your back and kissed your head. You huffed, remembering that tonight was the first night of the full moon and you two needed to get a few things done before nightfall. “You’re right but cuddling you before you bring me to the forest and leave me in a cave all by myself while you go off each night to run around the forest is one of the things on my list to do before tonight.” You told him and snuggled closer. “I was thinking about that, darling. Why don’t you come with me this time? The pack has been asking about you and they want to meet you.” He told you and stroked your hair. You perked up and looked at him.

“Are you sure? You’ve always told me that it was too dangerous and I needed to stay in the cave while you’re out in the woods even though it’s your pack’s rule to take wolfsbane potion before the full moon for safety reasons.” You told him while looking him in the eyes with a pout that he thought was adorable. Shouta sighed and held you close as he sat up with you in his lap. “I know all of that, sweetheart. The pack leader wants to meet you though. If anyone tries to steal you from me, they will have to fight me for it. You know I’ll win too. Another reason is that a bunch of the Alphas are bringing their mates to mark them in front of the whole pack. I want to do that with you if you’re okay with that. You did also ask to experience what it was like to mate with me when I was in that state. Since we’re going to be there at that time, why not fulfill your wish~.” He told you and looked into your eyes. You felt your face heat up before you buried your face into his neck, making him chuckle.

He picked you up and carried you out to the kitchen where he sat you on the counter and pulled out the ingredients needed to make some cheesy scrambled eggs and toast for the both of you. As he cooked, you prepared his coffee for him and handed it to him. He thanked you and handed you a plate that had scrambled eggs and toast the way you liked it. You slid off the counter and went to the dining table to wait for him so the two of you could eat together. When Shouta’s food was done, he joined you and the two of you ate together.

“What do you need to do before tonight?” You asked him. “I need to finish getting our things packed, and make sure you don’t over pack since we will be living in caves that have been furnished and they have plumbing.” He told you as he ate. “Will I need to bring nesting materials?” You asked. “No, the women and Omegas in the pack provide the nesting materials for each of the caves.” He told you. “Do I need to bring food?” You asked. “That will be provided too. I usually ask for food for the two of us in the cave since we eat a lot during our time there falls on or around the peaks of our cycles.” He responded. You listened and finished your food, putting your plate into the dishwasher, and wandering to the bedroom where you were gathering clothes that you wanted to bring with you for this trip even though it would only be a few days. Shouta joined you and threw a few more things into his duffel bag, such as a first aid kit and some other bandages since the Alphas in the pack had tendencies to start fights during the summer ruts and this is when mates could get stolen if another Alpha favored them. You watched him stuff the bandages into his bag and you put a few more of your own medical supplies into your bag along with some scent patches and scent-covering candles that you could use in the cave to help repel any suspicious Alphas that would come to try and take you away from Shouta. You grabbed some of his older shirts and stuffed them into your bag along with some security items from your nest before zipping up your suitcase and carrying it out to the car.

“You have everything, Sweetheart?” He asked as he followed you out to the car with his own duffel bag. “Yes, I do, thank you for asking. I made sure to pack some more first aid kits as I remember what the pack’s ruts are like about this time. You Alphas can get very possessive when you get together.” You told him as you closed the trunk of the car. Shouta wrapped his arms around your waist. “I must keep you safe from them since you’re a human and you’re new to the pack. I have told them about you but this will be your first time meeting them. Some of the motherly members will make sure you’re settled and keep some of the other Alphas away that will seek you out since you’re new meat to them. I won’t let any of them try to take you from me, got it? You’re my mate and only my mate.” He told you as he looked you in the eyes.

“That’s understood. They shouldn’t even try to take me from you since you’re the leader of the pack. Why would anyone want to try to take me from you anyways?” You asked as you went back inside to grab your bag and water bottle. You get into the passenger side of the car as Shouta got in on the driver’s side of the vehicle, and drove out to the reserve where he would introduce you to his pack. Once you arrived at the reserve, Shouta drove into the woods where several hills were gathered in a circle with a large firepit in the middle. There were so many other werewolves there. But not just werewolves. You saw other humans, nymphs, merfolk, nagas, and even a vampire or two walking around the area, all prepping for the full moon that night. You froze up and gripped onto your bag as there were a lot of new people you were going to meet but you didn’t want to. Shouta touched your arm and comforted you as a woman walked over to the car and tapped on the window. She was wearing black leggings and a knitted sweater and she had long black hair, blue eyes, and red cat-eye glasses. “Hey, Nemuri. Did you and the others get the cave set up?” Shouta asked the lady he called ‘Nemuri.’

“We did. Yamada and Shirakumo made sure the food had been prepared for the two of you and I set up a nest for your mate.” Nemuri spoke and peered into the car, looking at you with a gentle smile, letting her scent of vanilla, patchouli, and sandalwood.

“This must be Y/n. Hello there, Sweetie.” Nemuri said to you and you waved shyly at her. Both Shouta and Nemuri chuckled at your response before Nemuri let Shouta drive off to the cave and park close to the cave. Shouta was the first to get out of the car and he walked over to help you get out. You didn’t want to get out just yet since you were still nervous about meeting all the new people in the pack. Shouta leaned against the frame of the car and looked at you. “What’s wrong, Y/n?” Shouta asked as he looked at you. “There’s so many people. Do I have to meet all of them?” You asked.

“No, you don’t have to meet all of them. I’d like for you to at least meet three people. They’re my close friends and will check in on you while I’m out at night.” He told you. You took a deep breath and stepped out of the car, slinging your bag over your shoulder, and gathering the things that you had on your lap before you followed Shouta away from the car and up the path to the doorway of the cave. You could feel the gaze of the members of the pack looking at you as you followed Shouta into the cave. Once inside, you took in your new surroundings. Off to the right of the entry way is the kitchen that had an open-floor concept to the sunken living area that looked perfect for nesting. On the other side of a storage wall was the queen-sized bed that was also perfect for nesting as well. You sniffed the air, picking up fragments of Nemuri’s scent along with two other scents that you didn’t recognize.

You whined and looked to your mate as you were confused on the scents you were smelling in the room. “Theres weird scents in here. I don’t like them. They aren’t you.” You told him and he sniffed the air. “I don’t smell anything wrong. The scents you’re picking up are my friend’s smells, honey. Like Nemuri said, she, Oboro, and Hizashi all came in here to help prepare our cave for us.” Shouta told you and you huffed, still not liking the linen or citrus scents invading your new home.

You did your best to ignore them as you explored every inch of the cave as Shouta watched you interact with your surroundings, going into the bedroom area and lay out on the bed. Resting there for a moment before you set out some rocks that you brought from home on a shelf in the storage unit that separated the bedroom from the living area that you wandered into next and discovered the tv stand that held a large flatscreen tv and a couple different consoles that would help keep you entertained while Shouta spent the first night out with his pack and sleeping the night’s events off.

After you had poked around at the games, you wandered to the back of the cave and across a small hallway from the bedroom was the bathroom. You entered the room and cooed in approval at the clawfoot tub that could hold the both of you to soak in after the intense mating cycle the two of you would go through over the next few days. You then wandered into the kitchen where you found Shouta looking in the fridge for something for the two of you to cook together before he had to head out of the cave when night fell.  Shouta pulled out ingredients to make scrambled eggs and toast. Something simple to amplify the time that you had together before his rut fully took over. You watched him cook the eggs, noticing the fog in your mind begin to set in that you felt whenever your heat was close, knowing that the marking would happen tonight. You looked up at him as he slid a plate of food to you and he caught your gaze.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked. “Do I have to come out with you tonight?” You asked. Shouta sighed and nodded. “I will keep you safe though. No one is going to take you from me. They wouldn’t dare to have the nerve to try and even challenge me.” He reassured you before he ate.

“Will it only be for tonight? Or will it be every night that I come out with you and be presented in front of the pack?” You asked as you stabbed at a couple pieces of meat on your plate. “Just tonight. The other evenings you can stay here. I don’t want the other Alphas to have much time to look at you and be tempted to try and steal you from me. You’re mine, sweetheart. I’ll make sure they know that you belong to me.” He told you before taking a long drink of his coffee. You felt your face flush bright red as you ate, finishing your food and putting your plate into the dishwasher. Your mind swirled with the thoughts of spending the first night outside with Shouta and his whole pack, how he would mark you and mate with you that evening made you feel all flustered about the things that your husband would do to you that night. He noticed how flustered you were getting as you were trying to do the dishes. He stood up and held you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing kisses on your neck. You set the plate down and looked out the window to see the sun setting.  Shouta guided you to the door.

“It’s time.” He told you and kissed your hand. “Don’t I need to change into something different?” You asked as you looked at your hoodie and shorts. “You look amazing, Y/n. No need to change at all.” He told you and pulled you close. “I’ll have perfect access to your heat to claim you all over again, my love.” He told you and led you outside to the bonfire where several members of the pack were there already waiting to mark their mates in front of everyone else. You were growing more nervous with each step that you took to the circle of other werewolves. You covered your nose as all the scents of the different pack members were beginning to overwhelm your senses and you froze just outside the group. Shouta noticed your nervousness and how you paused right before entering the ring of people. “What’s wrong, love?” He asked as he blocked you from the other alphas and caught your gaze with his own. “Too many scents. Too many people here.” You told him and balled your fists. He ran his hands down your arms and held your hands. “I can tell you’re nervous. I’ll keep you safe. Just trust me, please.” He spoke and waited for your response. “What’s taking so long? Is your little Omega nervous?” One of the Alphas jeered since they were getting annoyed and wanted to mark their mate that was in full-blown heat. Shouta looked back at the Alpha that spoke.

“She is nervous and she can take all the time she needs to feel comfortable enough to join the circle. Your mate, however is more than ready. Take them out of the circle and care for them already. I don’t condone letting one’s mate suffer in their heat for this long. You are excused.” Shouta spoke and dismissed the Alpha and their mate who promptly left the ring. He then turned back to you and kept his attention on you, letting you seek comfort in his scent until you were ready to join the circle. You followed him to an empty chair that was surrounded by two male Nagas and a lady that you recognized as Nemuri. You picked up the odd scents you had smelled in the cave earlier. The linen and sandalwood scent came from a naga that had blue, cloud-like hair and a sky-blue tail that was a bright contrast to the darkness of night behind him. There was another naga with a tail dark as night and blonde hair that was emitting the citrus scent. You hid behind Shouta as you were feeling shy about meeting the new people.

“Y/n. These are my friends that I was telling you about.” He told you and helped coax you out of your hiding spot behind him. “They won’t hurt you. They’re my friends and know that you’re mine.” He reassured you and guided you to sit in his lap. “Think of them as our guards in case someone tries to take you when I’m not looking.” He spoke as he held you close to him. You buried your face in his neck which earned some sounds of approval from the other Alphas as they waited their turn to mark their mates. “I know you want to cuddle, baby, but I need to start the marking by marking you, my love. I’ll hold you all you want afterwards.” He told you and helped you sit up and turn in his lap so you were now facing the eager pack of wolves around the fire pit, letting the cool breeze of the summer evening add to the atmosphere to the night at hand. You felt Shouta’s hands rest on your hips and his breath hot on your neck as he was ready to mark you to show just exactly who you belonged to. You wiggled in his lap, ready to have his mark so he could get you out of here and mate with you already.

“Are you ready, my love?” He asked as he supported you by holding your stomach as you arched your back and shifting in his lap. “Please, I want your mark, Alpha.” You moaned out and held onto the arms of his throne and rolled your hips around. He tightened his grip to hold you still as dragged his teeth on the bare skin of your neck, making you squirm under him and draw the attention of the pack all on the two of you. Shouta trailed his teeth down on your shoulder and bit gently. Just enough to get a moan out of you but not enough to mark you as his. Not yet. He growled possessively and pulled you closer until you were flush together. He kissed your neck and left a few bite marks to show the other young Alphas in the pack how they should treat their mates. You feel Shouta’s breath over the spot where he told you that he would mark you, only for a moment, until you felt the needle-sharp points of his fangs pierce your skin. You cried out in pain and held onto his hands as he marked you in front of the whole pack.

Everyone grew more interested in your interaction as Shouta bit hard on your neck, drawing blood and pulling away, earning a murmur of approval from the pack. When Shouta pulled away, he licked up the blood off your neck and watched the mark seal over, showing his seal of a crescent moon inside of a circle form on your neck. He let you lean back on him and pant as the mark finishes sealing off, feeling the cool air brush against your skin as you rested against your mate.

“You did so well. Let’s watch a couple more markings happen then I’ll get you home, sweetheart.” He growled in your ear, his voice getting gruffer than normal and claws forming on his hands. He turned you back to face him, let you hide your face in his neck, and carried you out of the circle.

“Good girl, You did so well for me. I love you so much. Let’s get you inside and warmed up, your arms are freezing.” He told you and carried you a few feet away to a large tent that he carried you into which was a flood of warmth for you. You nuzzled into Shouta’s neck as he carried you to the bed to cuddle you as you warmed up. He laid out on his sleeping bag with you on top of him, letting you cuddle into his chest and pull the flap of the sleeping bag over you as the final stages of his rut took over allowing for his more wolf-like instincts and features to surface, along with his scent growing stronger and his pheromones numbing your brain, causing it to completely fog over and your body fall into heat. Shouta took in the scent of your hair as he slid his hands under your waistband. You gasped and rolled your hips back to press against pelvis, feeling his erection waiting for you.

“Are you ready, My love?” He growled deep in his chest. You let out a shuddering breath and nodded silently. The werewolf slipped your shorts off in one swift movement and tossed them out of the sleeping bag and away from the bed. He then flipped over to pin you below him. You had your eyes shut since you were worried about what he would do to you. “Open your eyes.” He spoke in a calm tone, nudging at your cheek with his nose and nipping at your neck to get a reaction from you. You giggled and opened your eyes since he was tickling you now and he let out a groan of satisfaction now that he could see into your eyes.

“There you are, my love. Now look at me. I want to see your expression when I claim you like this.” He spoke and kept eye contact with you. He slipped his boxers off as his cock reached full erection and twitched as it wanted to breed you full of his litter. He gazed at you with a look of hunger in his eyes as he lined himself up with your entrance and slid his full girth into you, hearing you moan and cry out in pleasure as he filled you up entirely.

“Want my knot?” He asked gruffly. You nodded in agreement and he slid in deeper, adding more pressure until his knot had been completely sheathed inside of you. Now that he was stuck inside of you, he began thrusting deep and hard, eager to get you pregnant with his litter. You clung to him, moaning in pleasure, and clinging to him. It wasn’t long before he held your hips close to his and released his knot into you, filling your womb, and fully claiming you as his. You gripped at the inner lining of his sleeping bag as you rode out your climax with him, listening to your Alpha’s words as he helped you slowly come down from your high and cuddle you close. He growled approvingly in your ear before taking his time to pull out and praise you in the best way that he could by showering you in kisses, nipping at various parts of your body, and rubbing your sides before he pulled out of you, and laid next to you with his arm around your waist, resting his hand on your lower stomach. The end.

[starburts-addict]

Aftermath

Note: I did my own aftermath version of the Shiny Jr fic. Some details were heavily inspired by Qeirxing's fic. Because I really did like how some things played out in their fic, but mine has noticeable differences. This work isn't 100% original fanfiction material, but it was just a fun thing I decided to write. Also it isn't 100% proofread.

CW: graphic recollection of choking, paranoia, PTSD-like symptoms,, obsessive behavior, threats (on the reader's side), unhealthy coping mechanisms

How long has it been? How long has it been since you arrived at what was supposed to be a wonderful and bittersweet experience? You don't know, nor do you care. Being stuck in such a cursed place that used to be your escape from reality was terrifying. Hell, you may have physically recovered from the multitude of attacks that day, but you haven't been the same. Constantly lacking sleep due to nightmares and you being paranoid if anyone who had the balls to break into your 'home away from home' would do so. You couldn't even call it your home away from home. It felt more like a prison you decided to isolate yourself in as Grim comes and goes as he pleases. You don't get mad at him for staying indifferent to what had happened. After all, he knew what these guys were like before your arrival in this game world.

Things were okay. You just had to stay inside, make sure you only go outside at certain times to get fresh air, and remove any social apps from your phone. That includes deleting any accounts it came with. It was just Magicam, you wished you could delete the calling and messaging in your phone, but all you could do was block any calls and texts that weren't from the teachers and faculty. Honestly, it was just the Teachers and Sam. You had half a mind to block Crowley as sometimes he would call you to start attending classes with Grim. Saying that the students have been rowdier with each other. Whatever that meant.

Grim still hung out with Ace and Deuce like normal, but ever since that attack, he's been more annoyed towards them. Fucking! Not just them! He's been annoyed at the entirety of the main cast!

Not only have they been badgering him with questions about your status, but they have been sending him home with stuff for the both of you. And most uncanny of all of this, they've been nicer to grim. Which, honestly? Has been very disturbing to him. Grim was so used to the hostility he's seen that seeing their desperate and futile attempts to get you to forgive them was terrifying.

Crewel, Trein, and Sam have the major staff who have come to visit you. Vargas was too busy making sure none of the boys could come to impose on your privacy. Crewel and Trein would sometimes tell you how holing yourself in the ramshackle dorm, but you reminded them that you aren't in a world that you don't belong in and have consequently received a trauma that you should have never gotten in the first place. Sam sometimes had to mediate when things almost turned into an argument. The three of you end up apologizing to each other. The only people you would ever apologize to in this game. Crowley would sometimes come visit and even try to demand you start attending classes. Saying he just wanted things to be less hostile between the students. Every single, annoying time he did, you'd end up threatening him with your departure to the rival school, saying that they will most definitely be the better school to take care of you. You knew that was a lie. You were actually unsure if the main side cast of Royal Sword Academy were any less dangerous. If you do end up running away, you'd rather stay on the island with the NPC residents of Sage Town.

It has just been another day that you have lost track of. Grim had come back from classes just like every other day. It's not like they get weekends off, Maybe in the story, but not within the actual mechanisms of the game. Once again Grim is watching videos on the phone on the couch, and this time you watched along. Usually, you'd spend your time cleaning the rundown place or even talking to the ghosts about your life in your own world. Beyond the game. You missed a lot, but today you were bored. You didn't like having that phone from the game. It only has reminders that this isn't your world. You started to get bored with the videos. It was starting to get dark, and you were tired of having Trein and Crewel open every single library book for you and find you a way home. You were tired of waiting. So you decided that right now seemed like the right time to go to the library. You stood up and looked at Grim. "Grim, I'm going to the library, want to come with?" Grim looked at you surprised, as if you just told him something shocking, well, it might as well have been because ever since you got here you haven't really gotten beyond the Ramshackle dorm ever since that day.

"Are you sure? You avoided stepping out further than the back door." He was worried, which brought you comfort. Out of everyone in the game, you could trust Grim the most. After all, he saved you from an untimely death and apparently cleared up a misunderstanding. A deadly one. Thinking about it, you nodded at Grim and gave him a simper. "Of course. I need to help find a way home." Grim exhaled. "As your protector, I must go. Just in case you get uncomfortable." You petted him as you got up from the couch.

Walking out the front door, you hesitated to open it, but in the end, you ended up opening the door. Off in the distance towards the mailbox that seems to stand barely. You see the plethora of packages and letters they have sent you after you blocked all their numbers and had Vargas fend off anyone who dares enter. It wasn't like the headmaster would fully prevent them from coming to your doorstep. Once you made sure the coast was clear you walked towards the gate where the mailbox was. Curiosity filled you as you wanted to see what the letters held. Although you had a huge idea of what they held, which held you back. As you patted the mailbox sorta to praise it for standing like this, one of the letters fell down. You picked it up and noticed it was from Malleus. The one who almost killed you.

You wanted to rip apart, cut and leave it on the mailbox to show the others what you would start doing if they didn't quit sending you things and harassing Grim about you but against your wishes, you decided to open it up. Grim looked at you with a concerned look. "You don't have ta if you don't want to." You shook your head. "It's fine." You opened up the letter carefully, tearing the wax seal off first and then tearing the flap off. The contents disturbed you, to say the least. The letter was desperate as soon as you read the beginning. You looked at the back, and that was even more disturbing.

The back had started off as a continuation of the beginning, but when the letter was supposed to stop at one sentence of 'I'm Sorry', it continued. The sentence 'I'm Sorry' continued towards the page's bottom. You couldn't tell if it was a diary entry that he decided to mail or what. There were two things that you can deduct. Grim had severely underestimated their obsessive admiration for you, it was beyond that. There were hardly any words that could describe this beyond deplorable behavior. Without a second thought, Grim swatted the card from your hand and tossed it alongside the pile of cards and packages he made without you paying attention. Before you could do anything, he burned it all. "No more of that. Besides, you're on a mission! Don't get so distracted [First]!" Grim stated, marching his way to the library. You followed behind catching up to Grim. Feeling relieved that Grim still wanted to protect you.

Eventually, you both arrive at the Library. You were actually surprised to hear from Grim that the library is open all day and night, but you are in a game, so you ended up losing that surprise. You wandered the library trying to find a starting place to even think where you could start looking. Eventually, you and Grim decide to split up. Hoping that maybe one of us can find a good starting place. As you were walking on the other side of the library, you felt a pair of eyes on you. Your paranoia was kicking in, and bad. You tried so hard to ignore it, but your feelings from being chased came back and you turned around.

To your horror, it was Malleus. He was about to approach you and you just stared at him. You couldn't move. The feeling of your throat being squeezed and the feeling of blood trickling down your throat, the pressure of the nails, and the feeling of air under your feet as you dangle up in the air all come rushing back as you hold back the urge to hold your throat. You didn't want to insult the dragon prince and face his wrath again. It was quite terrifying the first time, it will be the second time.

You couldn't squeak out anything, you seemed like a deer in headlights, but when you were about to open your mouth, Malleus spoke."How have you been?" He uttered. He seemed to be walking on a minefield, making sure that what he does is correct to not set off anything. You wanted to sneer at him for even asking that stupid question. You wanted to respond by saying, you clearly weren't doing well if they haven't seen them in a long time, but you advised yourself against it. "Okay, I guess." Malleus clearly wanted to rebuttal but didn't. "Have you received our cards, me and the others have noticed you haven't gotten the mail every time we drop something off." You almost physically cringed when he brought that up. You remember the card of his you read and how truly disturbing it was, but you don't bring it up. "I don't really leave Ramshackle itself." You shrugged. "I just saw the letters today, I'll read them when I get back." You said. It was a lie, of course. Grim had burned everything to a crisp after seeing you look terrified again. You couldn't tell him that though, you don't know what would happen to Grim if he found out.

There was a pause of silence. Both of you glanced away from each other to avoid awkward staring. It was annoying to you how Malleus so far has been pretending as if he didn't almost kill you. That was until Malleus spoke. "I really want you to know how sorry we are for hurting you. How sorry I am for hurting you and causing physical pain." To you, he looked absolutely pathetic for even trying to apologize. You wanted to humiliate Malleus for almost killing you, but you held back. That would make you as bad as the main cast. "… Don't worry about it. Just drop it." You ended up insisting. The fae prince seemed saddened by your response but didn't say anything. After all, he isn't the type to beg from what you gathered from his character when you played the game in the comfort of your room.

More silence ensued, but instead of Malleus breaking the silence, you did. "What brings you to the library?" Malleus seemed surprised that you asked him something about him, even if it was to ask about the purpose of his arrival. Just for a second, he seemed a little too happy for your taste. "I'm here on club activities, I would like to see the architecture of the library." He sounded a little too desperate. That caused you suspicion, instead of egging on, you thought it was best if you didn't.

Then you heard more voices coming in through the library, they sounded loud. Well, at least one of them did. The other one tried to shush the loud voice. You knew who they were. It sounded exactly like Silver and Sebek. "It sounds as if Silver and Sebek are here, I'll leave." You bluntly stated. Before you could turn around, you heard loud footsteps coming closer and almost at a running speed and then you heard him. "MY LO-" Sebek had cut himself off as he saw you. You recoiled at his voice, which was the loudest thing in the library. Then Silver and Grim came along. You weren't as scared of Silver as you were of Sebek and Malleus, but you were terrified of him nonetheless. You took a small step back and Grim took the initiative to stand in front of you just in case.

You were surprised to see Sebek kneel in front of you. Before Silver could say anything to prevent him from saying anything, Sebek yelled his apology. "Player, please forgive me for my insolence! Punish me as you see fit!" Malleus was left stunned and Silver grabbed Sebek and pulled him up and covered his mouth. It seemed out of character to you, Silver isn't really the type to get physical unless he has to. Grim was stunned at Sebek, dumbfounded even. The sleepy knight turned to Malleus and tried to hold himself back from scolding his lord. "My Lord, please stop trying to run off like that. We're lucky that Sebek has a good eye and saw where you ran off to." Malleus cringed when he said that. You looked at Malleus suspiciously. "I thought you said you were here for club activities." Silver looked at you and Malleus, he seemed to have had the color of his face drained as he still held Sebek who sounded muffled and tried to shake Silver off. Malleus couldn't even look you in the eye and turned his head in shame.

Grim shook his head in disappointment. "You guys keep making things worse for yourselves." You looked at Grim and then at the three Diasomnia members before speaking. "We'll take our leave, let's go Grim." You walked off towards the end of the row of books to avoid going through the three men who tried to bring harm to you once. Grim followed behind you and three other men seemed like they wanted to protest your departure, but they walked in the opposite direction.

The way back to Ramshackle was quiet, but you were busy thinking about that interaction. Maybe it would be best if you visit the library later in the night whenever you want to do research.

[semi-imaginary-place]

Story is identical twins got circumcisions and one of them was messed up so badly there'd never be a "normal" penis. Fuckwad psychologist (why is it always these old cis white men psychologists that are the worst) decided to use this chance to prove his hypothesis that gender identity is entirely learned through social conditioned and tried various abusive and medical ways to make David a girl including reproductive surgeries, feminizing hormones, socialization, and whatever the fuck this is:

"Money theorized that reproductive behaviour formed the foundation of gender, and that "play at thrusting movements and copulation" was a key aspect of gender development in all primates. Starting at age six, according to Brian, the twins were forced to act out sexual acts, with David playing the female role—Money made David get down on all fours, and Brian was forced to "come up behind [him] and place his crotch against [his] buttocks". Money also forced David, in another sexual position, to have his "legs spread" with Brian on top. On "at least one occasion" Money took a photograph of the two children doing these activities.[24]

When either child resisted these activities, Money would get angry. Both David and Brian recall that Money was mild-mannered around their parents, but ill-tempered when alone with them. When they resisted inspecting each other's genitals, Money got very aggressive. David says, "He told me to take my clothes off, and I just did not do it. I just stood there. And he screamed, 'Now!' Louder than that. I thought he was going to give me a whupping. So I took my clothes off and stood there shaking."[24]"

"Both David and Brian were traumatized" no shit.

Anyways it failed. And the psychologist went on for years touting this case as proof that he was right despite every bit of evidence point to him being wrong. David continuously insisted in childhood that he was male and lived as male in adulthood after being suicidally depressed because yeah between the everyone telling him he's a girl, the forced body modification, and the sexual abuse by dr. ego. And the trauma carried through into adulthood he killed himself at age 38.

Now this is just one case if this happened to 1000 identical twin pairs maybe some of them would have identified as female what's more important is how even though David was not intersex his case highlights many of the struggles of intersex and transgender people. I mean he was assigned a gender shortly after birth and raised as that gender but always felt it was wrong and the people around him did everything to make him female. Is that not the trans experience. Gender is complicated and this case rejects dr. fuckwad's single souce explanation. Gender arises from the interplay of internally derived gender identity, gender presentation and performance, and social interplay. Gender is complicated and it's components and relationship with a person are unique to everyone. There's a lesson here too on forcing unnecessary medical procedures on intersex infants and children without their consent or sometimes against their wishes all to better conform them to a binary when even among non intersex people there is amazing diversity among bodies. And it's important that those same procedures forced on intersex infants from gonad removal, to genital reconstruction (making genitals and sticking them on), masculinizing or feminizing hormones, are the exact ones often denied to transgender teenagers who want them. Even as adults it's hard and sometimes practically impossible to get gender affirming medical care. But the right has never cared about being hypocrites only about making the world worse for the greatest number of people.

[abyssal-author-and-artist]

ramble about noelle. now. no choice. now.

I mean it's 6:30 am for me and I'm at the point in the all-nighter where I might just pass out so... of course I will!

She's honestly probably my second favorite character. (First is Berdly my favorite boyfailure) Like yeah Kris is cool and all but first Noelle's design is just so good. I note this in some of my older drawings that I haven't posted but her design can very easily be adjusted to echo the Delta Rune - the horns can mimic the wings, and I give her three freckles on each side and then her nose is prominent to be the three triangles. Make her face more heart shaped instead of oblong and boom! Delta Rune face!

Second the Snowgrave Route has me by a chokehold and always has. I have an au that plays with it but I really wish I had leaned harder into her being manipulated because her whole headspace in that route is so fascinating to my angsty little heart. She suffers and I'm here for it.

In all seriousness, though, I like looking at her through the lens of her being expected to know everything and have it all together when she's thrust into this strange world with no preparation and no prior experience. As the player, you're handed control of her mental state. In a normal route, you help her be more confident in all encounters, help her learn how to navigate social situations more easily and let her embrace silliness similar to how you help Berdly. In the Snowgrave Route, you teach her to black out and do horrible things. You tell her to give all her control to you and she does, but it ends up making her terrified of giving up control because she doesn't want to hurt people, doesn't want the shutdown and blankness that comes with her giving over control.

Side tangent, that leads into Kris Noelle parallels! In the Snowgrave Route, you force Noelle to give over control and, at least in my opinion, it makes her act a lot like Kris in some ways once you leave the Dark World. She's quieter, seems to carry herself differently, is more defensive and possessive. She's terrified of giving up control. At the same time, she's also still acting in ways you've taught her to. Reminds me a little of certain Kris behaviors/headcanons - they're very possessive of Susie at times, and I personally love to headcanon Kris as having no filter when the soul isn't possessing them because they're so used to having a forced filter. Truth be told, any parallels here are mostly conjecture because Kris can't act super independently, but i do enjoy thinking of them as playing up their weirdest quirks to still be themself, which I just love.

Another thing involving Kris - I'm very decidedly neutral on Kriselle (at least normal Kriselle, Snowgrave toxic fucked up Kriselle is my shit) but I love looking at Kris and Noelle's relationship platonically. Estranged best friends who still care for each other but don't know how to anymore. Kris playing Noelle's piano means so much to me you don't even know. I want to make a young Noelle design so I can draw her listening to them play. They both mean so much to me as friends who want to reconnect but can't. Pulled apart by the same connections that once pulled them together (Asriel and Dess). There's so much there and it makes me feel things I'm just now delirious enough to express.

Okay Kris-related tangent over they can go back to their moss corner now. Let's talk about Noelle and gifted kid burnout! Because she is going to hit it so hard honestly. Bear with me since it's been a while since I've seen a playthrough and I'm about to ho into the arguably more "pay attention or you die" part of the game that I never paid attention during so I might get stuff wrong.

If I recall correctly Noelle's actively a star student. Doesn't seem like she struggles too much, either. She's a great student - always answers questions, always gets good grades, etc. I've seen a lot of takes with her mom pressuring her to study constantly, which is a good take, don't get me wrong! I just find her more interesting - to me - if she's coasting through without trying, because if she's anything like me when I was in middle/high school, she knows a huge burnout is coming. She can tell she's starting to have to care about little and she's about to crash and burn so hard. Imagine having paralyzing anxiety and also knowing you're about to hit gifted kid burnout lol (<- the words of a man who was like that a year ago. Now I just have the burnout proper!)

Her relationship with Susie is fascinating to me too. Have you seen that meme of Timmy Turner from Fairly Oddparents (i think that's who it is) praying going "please God let this happen it would be so fucking funny" except "this" is "suselle not be canon"? Because I unironically love that from a writing standpoint. I am a Suselle shipper through and through but honestly I think they have a lot of potential outside of it being canon. I love the idea of Noelle struggling to get over her crush and failing. Their relationship warping into new, unseen flavors of gay pining. Something just west of queer-platonic, where it's inherently romantic but neither is able to acknowledge it as such. Nothing actively toxic, just Noelle begging for Susie to hold her hand so hard it hurts - partially because sign of affection and partially because Noelle has a pattern of wanting Susie to hurt her which I could unpack but would have to at least touch on topics I don't really feel comfortable infodumping about in this otherwise sfw post at - wait it's already 7:30? So that's enough Susie and Noelle for now! Although I still think they should go on gay little dates.

Is it Kris tangent part 2 if it's Player tangent? Because Player tangent time! Mostly a bunch of points i touched on in Kris tangent. You can control her a lot. Ruin her psyche forever etc etc. This is honestly my Snowgrave Kriselle toxic mess tangent because let's be real, it isn't even Kriselle. It's not Kris x Noelle. It's Player x Noelle. You manipulate her and break her and make her scared and dependent on you and then you give her a Thorn Ring and she bleeds and gets stronger through pain and the whole time she is forced to do whatever you want and I. I just. There's so much symbolism there and it's so pretty. (Which leads into my catholic guilt tangent later which is already written but I might as well add to it.) So messed up. A part of my Gravity Falls infected brain wants to say "it's a little Billford" because I know you would understand what I mean. So I will! Snowgrave Kriselle is sorta Billford with more catholic guilt to me. Like Noelle's like "ah my best friend Kris! :) We've grown apart recently but I trust them implicitly and will not consider what they want me to do! :D Oh no, they betrayed me? :( That's not good. I'll just back out now- what do you mean the religious iconography built directly into our relationship means I am directly tied to them and they're allowed to order me as they choose while I am forced to listen because I am simply a servant of our God figure who is controlling Kris. What do you mean there's catholic guilt woven into my bones and I cannot escape because my whole situation is extremely easy to see as a metaphor for religious trauma. Stop it. Stop making my symbolism indicative of real-life situations I don't want you be trapped because of the guilt and shame associated with leaving being so intense and ingrained into my character that I can't leave. D:"

Also, taking a deeper look at the Angel iconography surrounding her? The robes and the Thorn Ring and the everything? Oh yeah, I could write some religious trauma into that girl. (Well I already did because I wrote this out of order and my religious trauma rant got out of hand.) Bonus points because she's canonically queer - bless you Toby Fox writing lesbians into everything you touch - and double bonus points if you headcanon her trans! Imagine having your religion held against you to make you hate yourself as you just try to live and then also you go to a terrifying magic world and also get kidnapped while dressed like the icon that's used to guilt trip you into thinking you're irredeemable. So terrifying and fascinating I could just blend her in the Blorbo Blender. Trademark.

And Snowgrave Route? Whooooo the catholic guilt metaphor is strong with this one! I already mentioned the Thorn Ring - a reference to crucifixion and the crown of thorns? Not sure, I never got that far in the Bible (wasn't raised religious but was forced to read the Bible as punishment once or twice). She gives herself over to a sort of savior, a godlike figure, Kris. Something something parallels between Kris and Chara/Frisk Undertale means parallels between Kris and the Angel that the Undertale children represent and therefore Kris can be regarded as a sort of messiah like figure in accordance to that and therefore Noelle gives herself over to a messiah (Kris) and suffers because of it. Not even overtly. Kris never hurt anyone else. They only hurt her. And really, they made her stronger. Sure they guilt her into killing a non-believer (Berdly), but they also make her stronger, stronger than they could ever be. She's now reliant on them and a wreck without them, but they pulled her out of one of the worst times of her life - heedless of the pain they inflicted on her - and they haven't ruined Susie. Isn't it her fault they hurt her? Did she not devote herself enough? Did she make a mistake somehow? Some small, imperceptible slight against them? Or maybe she simply isn't strong enough to receive their wisdom and she's paying the price of not being enough for them? Not being worthy of her messiah's "unconditional" love? Angel, she got enough of this in the Light World, now she's got two entities breathing down her neck. Extra powerful as a metaphor for religious trauma when you consider Kris as being functionally more of a prophet and yourself as the god in this situation. Because like. You are. If I ever write this into a fic I might just tag you if you're chill with it because I loved the catholic guilt rants so much.

It's been an hour and a half and I am on my phone and my finger hurts because phone evil wants to eat me and also I am running out of perfect haven't-slept-in-over-18-hours clarity so I'm going to. Probably brainrot over my newest obsession in the stupidest way possible. Maybe eat breakfast in an hour because I will evaporate without coffee and it's 7 am anyways. Thank you for an excuse to do this lol I love Noelle so so so much and I don't think about her enough. I'd like to stress i did nothing but write this, with a small break to draw the Noelle enclosed. Anyways I have like. Ten(?) Deltarune fics, about there, maybe more maybe less, not sure and not opening another ao3 tab to check right now. If you wanna check my fics out my user is the same there and also my ao3's linked in my pinned. Frozen Tears is my Noelle centric AU but I might rewrite it because wow I forgot how much I loved Noelle and. Kinda hated writing that fic. All my favorite details of the comic (because it was a comic first, made when my style first turned to what it is now) get lost which is a shame. I was so proud of the single panel of Kris's wallet.

Anyways here's a shitty Noelle for your troubles. Every time I draw her I do it differently I swear and also I haven't drawn her in like. Six months. So.

Fun fact my Tumblr didn't want me to post this post! So it was finished yesterday and it's early so I'm not editing it to remove the time markers