#but mostly 3) I am so tired of it being blow after blow after blow

[hobisexually]

x

[jazzyblusnowflake]

Alright, we've had Nuzi headcanons. We've now had Vuzi headcanons... Let's heart it, you're Violent Biting Biscuits headcanons, N x Uzi x V... Or if you'd rather complete the set, eNVy headcanons. I am curious of both. (Your headcannons are just super cute)

Holy hecc, I'm so sorry for answering these asks so late but i'm gonna be honest- I just never think anyone likes my writings or ever reads them XD

okay then lets see- my ViolentBitingBiscuits headcanons- i will put eNVy for the next ask because someone else asked for it too and they wont all fit here lol.

My NUziV headcanons ovo<3 :

[once again these are only the drone versions, the human versions aren't involved / also i may add some 🔞🔞🔞 ones this time lol >:3 also uhhh apologies in advance but this one is long as all hell so....um]

K we know the drill, they are all together- hopefully in the future- even if any of them dies i'm gonna pretend i do not see 🙄 deadass gonna treat this like the jjba fandom- my faves are ALIVE AND WELL SHUT UP ARAKI-

Okay so there's some things that we have already mentioned in the previous headcanons- ill try to not repeat them unless they are necessary but ill also try to treat this as its own post and lightly repeat them real quick too-

N and V started out fighting over Uzi, and Uzi obviously was mostly into N at first- but after a while i guess Vs advances got to her- especially since she was- in a way- so desperate for attention/affection, so it felt a little overwhelming to her but in a good way. they very obviously flirted with her which got them silently treating it as a challenge- and Uzi being Uzi obviously loved the attention she got out of it- opting to let this just... kinda continue lmao. she didn't expect to let it go far enough for her to end up with both of them but here we are XD

We slightly touched this topic before about V but to reiterate- all of them have different levels of trauma that they all deal with and currently V has gone through the worst of it, both having to endure Cyn's torture in her mindspace and also having to watch N get slaughtered in front of her and possibly even having a hand in it. She fears losing people that mean to her so she became avoidant with a difficult personality to guard whatever's left of her. It took a really long time for her to decide to be with the two and to protect them and not run away from her feelings for anyone or anything. but some days its still difficult for her so sometimes N and Uzi have to literally trap her into a wrestling cuddle pile or something to get her to just... exist, without feeling like the whole universe is weighing her down. N and Uzi want her to know they are there to protect HER from those inner demons too.

sometimes the cuddle piles end up with N and V once again trying to get Uzi's attention lmao which ends up with them being a little too horny on main- whoops :) - everything starts with a little nibble here, a small bite there - maybe some pillow fights and climbing over eachother or holding one another down in different positions- aaaand then they wake up a few hours later with Uzi having regrets cuz these two are horny as f-

ANYWAY- N is probably the most patient of the 3, and although he usually never breaks up fights because he trusts the other two to handle their own problems without him needing to mom them, sometimes Uzi and V go a lil too far and he gets very tired of dealing with this kind of behavior. he never blows up at them- but he usually goes away to take a breather- sometimes hanging out with Thad or the other drones- and during this time Uzi and V kinda feel bad- but then they would think of stuff like maybe planning dates or getting food for him, draw stuff on cards and etc- or go around trying to find gifts to make him happy<3 sometimes they might add some extra kisses and unwinding sessions in the end as an extra treat :p N always forgives them obviously, he just needs some guys night out every once in a while or something lmao-

Getting close to Uzi became an excuse for N and V to get closer to eachother too. ironically, it first started with them bantering about who is better at what- but then it turned into unironically flirting and teasing eachother- but after a while they realized their relationship isn't going to ever be the same as what it was back in their old days but its also something completely new, so they become more willing to accept one another and explore their newer dynamic.

they all love being coddled and pampered every now and then. Uzi and V may not outright admit it- but they really do too. so they take turns with who they put in the middle of receiving affection :p

N and V are VERYYYYYY over protective of Uzi. to the point that they wouldn't even let the doctor [for tech repair obviously] check Uzi or touch her in any way when she had a small virus case lol. Khan had to pay the poor doctor extra for that.... deciding to leave his daughter in her room in a cuddle pile of two murderous demons that have glowing cat eyes every time he comes in the room smh.

V and N really like cuddling Uzi and sticking their hands under her clothes. or sometimes just flat out sleeping or cuddling naked. its less of a sexual thing and more so to do with the fact that the two MD's have higher body temperature and a less efficiant body for cooling- since they have a more compact torso and a lot less oil and coolant fluids going through them [since they need to consume it continuously] and having a bunch of working nanobots and nanites shoved into them to turn into weapons/wings/etc- and Uzi- although having the AS- is still very much less in need of cooling due to still having a more efficient body design for a "exoplanetary worker unit", with a still functioning cooling system inside that doesn't necessarily need extra oil to make it work unless under stressful conditions.... even if she probably does have worms and fleshy tentacles inside her now lmao. But either way Uzi's body is still a lot colder than the others so she's usually shared in the middle and at this point Uzi cant even be embarrassed when they slide their hands under her clothes and grab her wherever smh..... although V also does it as a semi possessive thing so there's that pfft. she was especially handsy after that doctor left XDDD.

Yes Uzi has very much in fact ended up at the medical/tech repair unit multiple times because N and V have sometimes ended up being a bit too much for her to handle- and the doctor [a character yall shall meet later] has absolutely had it. She had to literally sit the 3 down, explain to them their body differences via scans and the damages they may cause Uzi and it was basically the robot version of having "the talk" with your child- and Uzi wanted to die there and then.

Uzi sometimes just tells the two to drink blood from her- the first time they wanted to share oil they were scared about accidentally causing Uzi to overheat- but after a few times of trying it, they continued doing it more frequently either by kissing and regurgitating or taking turns to bite Uzi or vice versa. N and V typically don't use one another's oil because they already have high usage as it is, it wouldn't be efficient. admittedly N and V always have concerns when it came to biting Uzi- but somehow they found out Uzi actually enjoys it a little when they do it and well...they get ideas lmao- they just make sure to lick her indents clean with their regenerative saliva to make the AS work as little as possible on Uzi's body.

N really enjoys seeing his partners smooch..... for study purposes ofc lmao- actually he uses his visor to take pictures sometimes- let the man be a little horny in peace smh. and don't worry Uzi and V know all this- they just wanna tease him a little bit :p

Uzi and N usually chit chat while they are in the bed until they fall asleep- but V prefers to just hug Uzi on the side listening to them while they talk until she falls asleep too

they love going around in human based areas with shops and stuff to find books to read together or any other fun human stuff they can find- maybe table top games? lol- V goes for the sports stuff. she kinda wanna try hitting something with a bat...

[okayyyy so tumblr doesn't let me write any more XD i def have more ideas but oh well. also ill save the eNVy for another ask that i have in my inbox so you'll get that soon too :p]

[livingdeadmlm]

You Bring me Closer to God pt3

Pronouns: reader is referred to as a man

Physical Sex: AMAB

How far are things going?: Mostly hand jobs (Kieran, Javier, Charles) one blow job (Dutch) Riding (Arthur receiving) Naked Frottage (Hosea)

Warnings: Jerking off, mutual masturbation, these are wet dreams, so consent is implied, Praise kink (Hosea), Controlling (Dutch), Low honor Arthur being freaky, Bath sex, shy Kieran, Hair pulling (Charles) Marking (Javier)

Outline: Unable to use the river to clean your bed sheet and clean up, you settle for Saints Hotel. The bath caused you to be late to mass, but you got to meet some new faces you'd never seen before, and one of the faces you met recently showed up in your nap after mass.

What inspired me to write how I did: the crappy priest romance book I got lol

Other: Yes, this is a harem fic!! You get to pick who you have this dream about, which explains the 6226 word count. Each man does something different for the most part, but each one ends the same to keep it consistent! I am torn between writing dreams the men have about you or a cute scene. Should I just do both? Comment or send me an anon/ask to let me know what you think or if you have any ideas!

Part 1 2 3 4

Plenty of people passed Valentine, and there must be in-season fish nearby, so as you stopped by the river, it was packed with men, a few with their sons fishing the day away. 

You signed, folding the sheet in your arms more tightly as you returned to town. As you reached the hotel, your feet began to tire, and you regretted not bringing your horse, but no use crying about it now. 

Pushing the wooden door open, the man smiled and greeted you. “Welcome in, Father. What can I do for you?” Reaching for your wallet, you placed a dollar on the counter. “A bath, please. Do you offer a washing service? I can wash it myself; I just need the washing board!” The hotelier gave you 75 cents back and waved his hand, taking the sheet from your hands. 

“Nonsense, One of the bath girls will clean this up for you at no charge. The bath is warmed up for you, just down the corridor.” Before you could speak, the sheet was long gone in the arms of one of the women who worked there. Your face burned, ashamed to have someone else clean the sheet. 

You wandered back to the bathroom door, glancing out of the window. You saw some townspeople out and about with their day, and if you squinted, you could see a litter of newborn sheep.

The bathwater steamed when you stepped into the room; you toyed with the crucifix around your neck before slipping your clothes off. You wanted the coldness of the river, but if you were paying, you’d rather pay for the effort of warm water.

If there were pieces of heaven on earth, one piece was a warm bath. Your muscles relaxed as you submerged yourself to your neck, cross-floating in the water. The soaps provided were nice-smelling, mainly woodsy smells, with one almond floral smell you picked up. 

The bar was small enough for you to scrub it against your arms, taking your time. The sudds that formed gathered around your body as you began to hear muffled talking just outside the door. There was a light knock on the door: “Would you like any help in there, Father? I got your sheet all clean if you want me to leave it at the front counter.”

“That’s alright, Miss! I won’t be needing any help.” Your voice was a little shaky. A good hour or so had passed, and you needed to hurry back in time for mass. Dunking your head under the water, the last bits of soap dissolved into your scalp. Your back is pressed against the bottom of the tub, taking the last few seconds to enjoy the warmth around your legs and back. As you rose from the water, you took a deep breath and wiped the water off your face. 

Eyes stinging at the soapy water, you groaned and reached for the provided towel, quickly cleaning off your eyes. The temperature difference from the bath made you shiver. You needed to go back to the church faster. There might be four townspeople, but you wanted to be there for them.

The steps up to the church creaked as organ music softly played from the back of the building. From what you could tell, Father Gavin had started mass; you quickly went into the building, trying to take soft steps not to cause any issues or distractions. It was the prayer of thanks, so you quickly put on your vestment. 

Father Gavin smiled at you and leaned over as you grabbed the small bowl of communion wafers, “It’s good to see you take time for yourself, Father (Name).” The small metal bowl was cold in your hands as you smiled. Yes, you were late to start mass yourself, but a long hot bath was what you needed to relax. 

You glanced across the pews. The usual townspeople were there, but your eyes caught sight of Javier and Kieran, plus three women and two men you had never seen before. Your heart swelled as you tried not to laugh at their awkward expressions. The women sat in the same row, each with their eyes closed and in prayer. But Javier kept peaking his eyes open, and Kieran hadn’t begun to kneel, and his eyebrows were screwed together, making a confused expression. 

Usually, people would line up to consume the body and blood of Christ, but for new people, you’d go out of your way to explain the process to them their first time. Father Gavin said amen, and everyone within the pews looked up; the townspeople who knew made their way to Father Gavin as you walked the opposite way to the women first. 

“Good Morning, ladies. I am so happy you could join us. I am Father (Name).” You held your hand out for each woman to shake: Karen, Mary-Beth, and Tilly. “Beautiful names you all have, so this is the body of Christ. It's just a bread wafer; I can hand it to you or put it in your mouth. It is your choice.” Mary Beth pointed to the gold up in your other hand, “What’s that you got there?” you raised the cup and explained it was the blood of Christ, but it was just a tiny sip of wine after the bread 

The trio of women hummed and held out their hands for the small wafer, each mumbling an Amen before placing it on their tongue. You held the cup to their lips and gently tilted it upwards. When you turned, you heard Tilly whisper, “That’s not bad wine. I wonder where he got it.”

Your head turned to the four men. “Hello, gentlemen. I’m Father (Name). You heard me speak to these lovely ladies, so it’s your choice.” You held up the small bowl. Kieran opened his mouth and closed his eyes, and you lightly pressed the wafer to his tongue. He said thank you before you gave him a sip of wine. Your eyes move to Javier, whose eyes are already watching your hands. His hands were clasped in his lap as he opened his mouth and slightly stuck out his tongue. 

Your face felt hot, and the slight giggle you heard from the three women didn't help. You pressed the wafer to his tongue, Javier's eyes never leaving yours. The cup and bowl were no longer cool; your body heat warmed the metals. As you tipped the cup forward for Javier, he licked his lips as you turned to one of the new men. 

One of them was very well dressed. His clothes fit him perfectly, and you had no doubt they were made for him. They had to be tailor-made. He held his hand as he told you his name, “Dutch.” You smiled and nodded. He placed a wafer in his hand and quickly ate it as he eyed the gold cup. You held it to his lips as he adjusted his deep red vest. When you pulled away, he moved his hand to hold his chin, thinking to himself. 

The older man also held out his hand for a wafer, making a slight toasting motion. “Hosea.” You smiled and nodded, Pressing the cup against his lips and tilting it upward. He felt a lot nicer than the Dutch, and his smile was very welcoming compared to the blank face of the Dutch.

You stepped back, trying to regain your composure. Were men always this handsome? Did you get lucky and never run into such handsome men until now? “Well, from now on, this will be the process should you ever come back, but you will walk to the front of the chapel instead.” You bid them farewell as you walked to the altar to continue mass. You were dying for a nap as you entered your room at four; mass went well; all of the men and women lingered around as Mary-Beth excitedly asked to look at the collection of books you mentioned. 

Your heart dropped when you realized you had left your sheet at the hotel in your hurry home. You would have to make do with your comforter and the quilt you kept over your bed. 

Grabbing the comforter, you tucked it under your chin. The quilt was over your body as you hugged the mound of comforter. 

The quilt was given to you years ago. Its colors are your favorite hues. Small pattern squares are scattered throughout. 

You did realize how cold the day had gotten; the sun beat down on you heavily this morning, so the change felt sudden as you lightly shivered. 

You were back in the hotel tub, the warm water swirling around you, and a sweet smell filled the air. As you sunk into it, the water had a slight steam. 

Knock knock knock 

“Do you need help with the bath, Father (Name)?” The voice wasn't the same as the bath woman you remembered. Before you could answer, the lock clicked, “Actually, it’s my treat.” The voice was sultry as the door opened 

!!!!!!!

“Javier? When did you start working here?” your voice slightly trembled as you instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself. You brought your knees up to your chest, trying to shield your body from view through the steamy water.

Javier's heavy boots made a soft thud as they struck the wooden floor, and with grace, he perched himself at the edge of the tub. “Cálmate mi vida, just doing my job.”(Calm down my soul). His voice was as playful as ever but so collected.

His usual outfit differed from what he was wearing now. His usual hat was absent from his head, but his hair was still neatly tied back, the same two strands framing his face. Pancho and denim jacket gone, leaving him in his bright white shirt rolled up to his elbows and blue vest that seemed tight around his waist. It clung to him much more than you remember it.

‘Was his waist always that small?’

He tenderly pressed his warm hands into your damp shoulders, urging you to relax. Then, he took the soap bar and rubbed it between his hands. The suds covered his hands as he placed the soap bar down and softly started washing your hair. Your arms still hugged your legs as you sighed, leaning into Javier's hands. 

“You’ve needed someone to spoil you, Father (Name)?” for a moment, you forgot how to breathe. His teasing words hung in the air as his hands did slow, deliberate circles in your hair. He rinsed your hair with a few cups of water before grabbing the soap bar and lifting your leg slightly, gliding the soap bar down your calf. Your head felt fuzzy as his hands continued to go up your thigh, squeezing the skin. 

Your hips twitched forward as you whined; the warm water surrounding your hard-on felt intoxicating on its own, but it wasn’t enough contact for you. 

In an instant, his lips pressed against yours with a feverish urgency. Between your bodies, his chest pressed against yours, revealing that his shirt and vest were both undone, showcasing his lean build. “No puedo quedarme con las recompensas de un buen hombre como tú.” (I can’t keep rewards from a good man like you)  Everything began to fade as one hand held your face close, the other having a soft grip on the base of your cock. 

His hand slowly moved up and down as his mouth was set out to mark your neck. Small kisses turned into mouthing. Your eyes burned as his hand moved to roll the beads of your crucifix between his fingers. Everything felt so intense, so strong. But there was a knock again at the door, “Father (Name)? Are you okay in there?” The voice was soft, and you couldn’t help but snivel; you were so close, so so close; who could be at the door?

Javier's mouth detached from your neck, “Aw, maybe next time, huh mi vida?” His eyes were half-lidded as he did a slight pout; everything faded as your eyes snapped open, the knocking at your door much louder than in your dream; you groaned, aching hard-on all the more painful from no release. 

You were lucky the skirt of your cassock was flowy enough to hide it; as you opened the door just a crack, Javiers smiling face looked back at you. 

Your knees almost gave way as he held up the sheet you had forgotten at the hotel. There was no way he could know what you just dreamed about. It wasn’t written on your forehead: “Like a teen overflowing with hormones, I had a lewd dream about you!”

“I was at the general store when the hotelier stopped to ask me to deliver this. I figured I could arrive early and hang around before dinner. You nodded, taking the sheet in your hands. “Of course! Please, I’ll meet you in the kitchen soon! I’ll just put this on my bed now!” your hand extended to the kitchen. Subconsciously, you held the sheet closer to your lap, worried that somehow he would notice your boner through the three loose layers of fabric you wore.

You glanced down at his waist, noticing its more obvious dips inward. Your face flushed as Javier sauntered his way to the kitchen. 

The door clicked shut, and you all but fell to the floor, clutching the sheet to your chest. What were the chances?

“Arthur? What are you doing here?” your voice slightly trembled as you instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself. You brought your knees up to your chest, trying to shield your body from view through the steamy water.

He smirked at your attempts at hiding yourself, “Well, I did say, Father (Name), I think you deserve a real reward for your work, didn’t you?” His hands quickly worked the buttons on his black button-up in ink.

“And I try to be a man of my word.” He grinned, “Well, just fer you, I am.” his shirt was completely off. You grew hard at the sight, almost moaning at the sight alone as he kicked off his boots and slid his pants down. He was bare before you besides his riding gloves and hat.

He joined you in the hot water of the bath, pulling your legs apart with almost no fighting from you. “I don’t want you hidin' anythin from me, Father (Name).” Voice low and teasing as he settled into your lap. The water in the tub slightly overflowed at the extra body in the water.

Your cock rested against the curve of his ass. You stared up at his face, still unable to make out any actual facial features staring back at you. Arthurs's hand dipped into the water, guiding your cock before slowly sinking. Your lips pressed together, holding in the cry at the feeling of his soft and warm walls squeezing you so firmly. 

The moan vibrated in your throat as Arthurs's head lulled back, a feeling of bliss taking over his body as you reached so deep. 

“Hiding this away in that stuffy uniform shouldn’t be allowed, Father (Name).” The water of the tub rippled with each up-and-down movement Arthur made. You bit your tongue; there were bound to be other people out and about, and you didn’t want to be loud and potentially get caught. 

Arthurs's gloved hand cupped your cheek, leather-covered thumb forcing it into your mouth. His thrusts never stopped. They were harsher: “What did I say ‘bout hidin’ Father (Name)? Afraid someone is gonna hear that yer already fucked stupid after two minutes?” He held his thumb between your teeth, rubbing the soft side of your cheek. 

Unable to close your mouth, your moans began to flow freely. Small cries mixed in as Arthurs's hips began to roll against yours. The new fluid motion made you hold Arthurs's broad shoulders for support. He was right; nothing occupied your mind but his body against yours, being inside of him, and how desperate you were feeling to let go of the tight tension in your stomach. Your head rested on his chest; his skin was hot as you tried to kiss across the mounds of flesh. 

His thumb left your mouth, a string of drool attached to his gloved hand as he yanked your head back by your hair. You groaned, and the sting of pain went straight to your dick, causing your hips to stutter. 

The water splashed out of the tub, puddles getting bigger on the floor. “Come on, Father (Name), give a poor unsaved soul an internal blessing.” There was a harsh knock on the door; you would’ve ignored it if it hadn’t been so loud, startling you. Arthur huffed, pulling you in for a kiss as everything faded away, releasing just out of reach. 

Your eyes snapped open, the knocking at your door much louder than in your dream; you groaned, aching hard-on all the more painful from no release. 

You were lucky the skirt of your cassock was flowy enough to hide it; as you opened the door, just a crack—your forgotten bed sheet on the floor, with a folded parchment paper on top. 

The cursive was delicate across the paper. 

‘I heard around that you left this, and I figured I could make the day more manageable for you by dropping it off. See you tonight.’

-A.M 

Your heart leaped from your chest. The bed sheet clutched close to your chest as your door clicked shut. Deep breaths as you waited for your hard-on to go down before starting dinner.

“Charles, what are you doing here?” Your voice slightly trembled as you instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself. You brought your knees up to your chest, trying to shield your body from view through the steamy water. 

His expression remained unchanged as his eyes flicked across the room, never landing on you for more than a couple of seconds at a time. 

“I’ve just been wanting some privacy lately. Do you mind?” His hand motioned to the tub. You shook your head, scooting further to the edge of the tub. 

He undressed casually, the gun belt thudding on the floor as he slid his shirt off over his head. His large size was obvious, given his height, but seeing him out of his slightly baggy clothes confirmed how muscular he was. You averted your eyes from staring too long, fearing you’d make him uncomfortable by eating him alive with your eyes.

He joined you in the bath, the water rising as he sat across from you. His legs pressed against your sides. There wasn't enough room in the tub for two grown men, but the closeness was intoxicating. Steam swirled around as Charles closed his eyes as you watched his chest rise and fall. 

Charles's arms rested on the tub's sides, hands slightly gripping the porcelain edges. You glanced at a hair brush set on a crate beside the tub.

“Can I brush your hair, Charles?” his right eye peeked open as he hummed a ‘Sure.’ He closed his eyes again, noticing you did not grab the brush, or your entire bottom half would be out in the open. 

The cool air sent a shiver down your spine as you grasped the steel handle of the hairbrush. You sank back into the soothing, warm water and leaned toward Charles. Kneeling, you couldn’t quite reach his head from where you were.

His hands reached your hips, holding the plush skin before pulling you into his lap. “No need to be nervous,” he murmured. “we’re both in the same boat here.” your opposite hand reached for the back of his head to undo the small tied-back portion. 

The tie hadn’t been tight, but it had been in place for so long that you could feel relief ripple through him when it finally released. His hair fell free, tumbling around his shoulders, dark and rich against his skin. It framed his face perfectly, and you couldn’t help but pause, your breath catching in your throat. There was something magical about seeing him like this—his vulnerability, the way he trusted you to undo the small, carefully constructed pieces of him.

You ran your fingers through his hair, each strand slipping through your fingers like silk, the sensation sending warmth flooding through you. His eyes closed, his body leaning into your touch, his breath deepening as you continued to caress him—each movement, slow and deliberate.  His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you even closer. 

His whole body seemed to soften under you, using the bush to take out any knots as his head pushed forward to rest against your chest. There was no way he couldn’t feel your hardened member; it was practically resting against his chest with the position you two were in. 

You couldn’t ignore his, as it was pressed against your thigh. You continued brushing, wanting to ignore the temptation to press against him. But Charles beat you to the punch; his large hand traced a vein on the underside of your cock. Your hips stuttered, hands momentarily stopped. His finger continued tracing as he looked up at you, “Keep going.” You continued brushing, hands shaking as he finally fully took hold of your cock. 

You panted as the pace got faster, now tugging at Charles's hair. His light groans filled the room, the pressure from the pulling made his stomach tighten. 

He raised his head, taking his other hand and tracing your jaw before capturing your lips against his. The slight stubble on his chin lightly scratched against yours as he deepened the kiss, tongue sliding against yours. But there was a knock again at the door, “Father (Name)? Are you okay in there?” The voice was soft, and you couldn’t help but whine; you were so close, so so close; who could be at the door? 

Charles’s eyes were half-lidded, lips puffy from kissing as everything faded as your eyes snapped open, the knocking at your door much louder than in your dream; you groaned, aching hard-on all the more painful from no release. 

You were lucky the skirt of your cassock was flowy enough to hide it. As you opened the door just a crack, Charles's looming figure covered most of the light, attempting to enter the room. “Hi, Father (Name). I was at the stable when the hotelier stopped to ask me to deliver this. I figured I could arrive early to make up for breakfast.” Your white bedsheet was in his hands, and you blushed, taking the thin fabric from his hands. “That very kind of you, Mister Smith, but there is no need to repay me for my work!” 

Charles waved his hand; you now noticed the bow attached to his back. Was he a hunter? 

“I can join you in the kitchen. Let me just put this on my bed!” The door clicked shut after Charles nodded and stepped out of the hallway. You needed to calm down before heading out and making dinner. Taking a deep breath, you moved the heavy quilt and comforter laying out the sheet. You felt so wound up; tonight would be a long night.

“Kieran? What are you doing here?” Your voice slightly trembled as you instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself. You brought your knees up to your chest, trying to shield your body from view through the steamy water.

Kieran, slightly hunched, removed his hand and placed it on a crate beside a shelf. 

“Well, Father (Name), I just wanted to come in and help ya.” his voice was just as shaky as yours. Before you could protest, Kieran rolled up his sleeves. Taking the soap bar in his hands before dipping it into the water. 

His face looked anxious despite his non-hesitant movements, such as rubbing the bar of soap across your chest in circular motions. Your face flushed as you held up a hand to stop Kieran. 

“You don’t have to, Kieran. I know how to bathe myself!” 

“Truth be told, Father (Name), I wanted to help you with somethin’ else.” His hand sunk into the water, stopping at your stomach. “Hearin that ya never had a lady, I just couldn’t... Stop thinking about giving you that chance.” His puppy eyes felt like a shot in the heart. “I know ya can’t touch yerself, but please, let me do it for you!” he stared you in the eyes, fingers twitching against your stomach; his hands were eager to touch you.

This had to fall under your vow, but god would have to understand this moral break. Such a pretty man offering to help; anyone would fold, no?

You nodded your head, putting your legs down to allow him better access to your lower half. His hand was much warmer than the water as it wrapped around you. The pace he started with was uneven, but the friction nonetheless had you twitching. 

His eyes were glued to your manhood; a look of nervousness flashed across his face as his hand finally landed on a firm and even stroke. One of your hands reached Kieran, feeling the texture of his facial hair against your tender, wet hands. The water splashed around his hand as it briefly went above water.

Light eyes darted between your lips, and he held you firmly. He didn’t want to miss seeing your face, but he was infatuated with watching your cock twitch. Your lips captured his, a moan vibrating from your throat. Kieran let out a whine, eyes squeezing shut. A growing bludge was obvious in his pants as he pressed further into your mouth. Your stomach felt tight, the jolts of pleasure becoming too much.

The sight of Kieran pressing himself against the tub's edge, grinding against the hard porcelain at the same time as the thrusts of his hand, made you feel all the more fuzzy inside. “I can’t help myself; you're just too beath-taking.”  But there was a knock again at the door, “Father (Name)? Are you okay in there?” The voice was soft, and you couldn’t help but whine; you were so close, so so close; who could be at the door? It was a race against time, and each other was on who could finish sooner.

Kieran mewled, hands moving faster as your eyes snapped open, the knocking at your door much louder than in your dream; you groaned, aching hard-on all the more painful from no release. 

You were lucky the skirt of your cassock was flowy enough to hide it. As you opened the door just a crack, Kieran's small smile greeted you through the crack. “Hi, Father (Name). I was at the stable when the hotelier stopped to ask me to deliver this. I figured I could arrive early to help if you needed it.” Your white bedsheet was in his hands, and you blushed, taking the thin fabric from his hands. 

“That's very kind of you, Mister Duffy; you didn’t have to come early to help me. I’d just love your company!” Kieran stood fully up with a smile, clasping his hands together. “Let me put my sheet on my bed, and I’ll be right out!” The door clicked shut after Kieran nodded and stepped out of the hallway. You needed to calm down before heading out and making dinner. Taking a deep breath, you moved the heavy quilt and comforter laying out the sheet. You felt so wound up; tonight would be a long night.

“Dutch? What are you doing here?” your voice slightly trembled as you instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself. You brought your knees up to your chest, trying to shield your body from view through the steamy water. “Just wanted to speak to you, Father (Name), man to man.” you inwardly groaned, but wanting to be polite, you just smiled and nodded. Did he have to speak to you while you were in the nude?

“I’m not sure why everyone took to you so fast,” he said, his arms crossed as he leaned against the tub. “One day, my son goes off to see you, and then two of them are gone to see you hours later, and the next day, you have four of my boys in town waiting to get to you.”

You noticed the rings on his fingers—thick gold and beautiful against his skin, each a testament to just the kind of life he lived. He was neat and put together, his slim hips accentuated by his fitted slacks."Now I understand what it is about you, Father," he continued, his voice dropping lower, almost a purr. “It’s how you look at them and make them feel... With those big, bright eyes of yours."

His words hung in the air, charged with something that felt too intimate, too personal to be mere observation. He took another step, closing the gap between you until the distance between you felt like nothing. His fingers brushed against your arm as he shifted his stance, the contact light but leaving a trail of heat in its wake. You sucked in a breath, unsure if it was from the sudden warmth or the way your heart was hammering in your chest. 

His hands guided you to stand up; you shivered at the cold air on your hard-on. Being so exposed, the only thing on you is your rosary. He scanned your body, taking in your figure.  

"Any man who breathes near you," Dutch whispered, his voice roughened by the closeness, "makes you stumble over yourself." His lips quirked upward, that teasing smirk dancing across his face. His eyes didn’t leave yours, though, watching for any flicker of reaction. As he began to go down, resting on one knee, taking your cock in his calloused hand. His voice was a soft drawl, smooth as silk; a darker current made your pulse race. He reached up and traced along the veins. “It’s not just about you. It’s about what you make them feel. It's about what I feel when I see you with them.” 

He kissed the soft skin of your stomach, mustache slightly scratching your pelvis. "Does it make you uncomfortable being seen like this?" Dutch’s voice was almost a whisper now, soft but laced with a challenge that caught your breath. He licked a stripe up your hard-on, taking the tip into his mouth. His eyes dropped to your cock again, then flicked back to your eyes, his gaze steady and intense, as if daring you to do anything to him. He slipped you out of his mouth for a second. “Or do you like it?”

He lowered his hand, fingers brushing briefly over your arms as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your dick. “You have a way of making men want to be around you... and I’m not sure if I should be curious or angry about it. Hell, maybe both.” His hand had a firm grip as he jerked you off; a lewd wet noise began from his spit and your pre cum being rubbed into the skin. 

"I don’t control how they feel," you moaned. "They choose to be here." Your thighs tightened, unable to ground yourself back into reality. He switched between using his hand or his mouth if he spoke.

Dutch raised an eyebrow, his gaze mocking, amusement dancing in his eyes. He continued to hollow out his cheeks, creating enough space between you to let you breathe but not enough to break the tension.

“No one ever chooses without being chosen,” he said, his voice colder now.

His hand gently brushed your hair away from your face. “Any man would want to be around you when you act like a shy damsel.” But there was a knock again at the door, “Father (Name)? Are you in there?” The voice was rough, and you couldn’t help but whine; you were so close, so so close; who could be at the door? 

“I’m a greedy man, Father (Name).” His hand sped up, licking the base of your cock at the same time. “Give me all you got.” your legs shook, eyes watering as his tongue flicked against your tip again. “Dutch..!” your voice no more than a whisper as his mouth only felt warmer and wetter around you. The knocking at your door was much louder than in your dream; you groaned, aching hard-on all the more painful from no release. 

You were lucky the skirt of your cassock was flowy enough to hide it. As you opened the door just a crack, Kieran's small smile greeted you through the crack.

“Hi, Father (Name). I was at the general store when the hotelier asked if someone could deliver this. I figured I could arrive early to talk.” Your white bedsheet was in his hands, and you blushed, taking the thin fabric from his hands. “That's very kind of you, Mister…” You never did get his last name, “Dutch, very kind of you indeed!” 

You smiled. “Let me put my sheet on my bed, and I’ll be right out!” The door clicked shut after Dutch nodded and stepped out of the hallway. You needed to calm down before heading out to make dinner. Taking a deep breath, you moved the heavy quilt and comforter, laying out the sheet. You felt so wound up; tonight would be a long night.

“Hosea, what brings you here?” Your voice slightly trembled as you instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself. You brought your knees up to your chest, trying to shield your body from view through the steamy water. 

“Well, I just thought I’d stop by and share this new medicine I found. It's nice on the lungs.” Hosea smiled, taking a small cloth bag from his heavy jacket pocket. His clothes slipped off casually as he spoke, “As we get older, we have to be more mindful of how we treat our bodies.” 

As he slowly sank into the shimmering water, a delicate cloud of steam rose around him, creating an almost ethereal atmosphere. He let the bag fall from his fingers, watching it drift downward gracefully. The moment it touched the surface, a rich aroma began to fill the air—a delightful smell of peppermint, sweet honey, and warm ginger enveloped you two.

The bag radiated a soft orange hue, casting a gentle glow that danced along the water's surface. The coolness of the peppermint tingled like a playful bite at your throat, coaxing you into taking a deep, refreshing breath. Each deep breath was like a soothing embrace you saw Hosea also enjoying. 

The only movement from the water came as Hosea beckoned you forward. You stood on your knees, inching closer. Nimble fingers pressed into your shoulders, messaging the skin and pushing deep into the muscle, causing you to groan in slight pain. Hosea also stands on his knees, hands moving under your arms, prodding at the middle of your back, undoing the deep knots in your muscles. It hurt but felt so good as the knots became loose, and you could feel your back become tender.

The sharp, invigorating aroma of fresh mint intertwined with honey's warm, syrupy sweetness wafted through the air, wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. You pressed your body against Hosea's sturdy torso, feeling the warmth radiate from him as you settled into the embrace. Your head nestled into the crook of his neck, where the earthy scent of his skin mingled with a faint sweetness. As you inhaled deeply again, the blend of aromas filled your lungs, grounding you further in the moment. He coed at you softly, commenting on how strong your body was. 

His hands moved with purpose, fingers deftly finding the troubled spots along your back. Each press was firm as if he instinctively knew the knots and kinks that had bothered you, unraveling them carefully. You could feel the tension melt away under his skilled touch, the stress of the day dissolving as he worked at the hidden aches, bringing a profound sense of relief that reverberated through your entire being. It was almost enough to forget the looming feeling of lust forming in your stomach. Your head hung low, slightly embarrassed of how he praised you.

“Look how sweet you are, so docile.” His hands were softer now, pressing much lighter into your stomach, finally giving attention to your weeping hard-on. Your head hung low, slightly embarrassed of how he praised you and just how much you liked it.

“I didn’t know you’d be so sensitive, Father (Name).” The tender ache from having your back thoroughly massaged set in as you whined in response. “Hosea…” Hosea laughed lightly, lifting your head to meet his eyes. His gaze was soft as he admired your face. You both were older men, so each line across your face was beautiful to him. His light eyes scanning your face made your body twitch, his focus only on you.

Hosea pressed his cock to yours, slowly grinding them against each other. Continuing to hold your face up, your eyes were half-lidded. Time had vanished while he worked his magic on your back, and it felt like you had been hard with no attention for hours. So finally, as the warmth of his body envelops yours, you couldn’t help but drool at overstimulating contact. 

His thrusts against you kept on cupping your cheek and closing your slightly opened mouth, “Don’t forget to mind your manors, Father (Name).” His thin hand cupped your jaw, closing your mouth completely. But there was a knock again at the door, “Father (Name)? Are you in there?” The voice was soft, and you couldn’t help but snivel; you were finally getting the attention you wanted; who could be at the door?

“You are a busy man, Father (Name), and duty calls.” your head shook from side to side, trying to stay, but everything faded as your eyes snapped open, the knocking at your door much louder than in your dream; you groaned, aching hard-on all the more painful from no release. 

You were lucky the skirt of your cassock was flowy enough to hide it; as you opened the door just a crack, Hosea's soft, smiling face looked back at you.

“Hi, Father (Name). I was at the stable when the hotelier asked if someone could deliver this. I figured I could arrive early to see how you were.” Your white bedsheet was in his hands, and you blushed, taking the thin fabric from his hands. “That's very kind of you, Hosea!”

Hosea nodded and slightly bowed his head. "I understand you're a busy man, so I figured I could help where I can." Your face flushed as your dream momentarily came back to you.

Shaking your head, you smiled. “Let me put my sheet on my bed, and I’ll be right out!” The door clicked shut after Hosea nodded and stepped out of the hallway.

You needed to calm down before heading out to make dinner. Taking a deep breath, you moved the heavy quilt and comforter, laying out the sheet. You felt so wound up; tonight would be a long night.

[trailmixedup]

OKAY! So!! I am one week post op from top surgery and here are the things I have learned:

• nothing prepares you for how fucking bloated you get. It is emotionally and physically devastating.

• eat protein or you’re going to start dreaming about it.

• get ready to literally not have any reading comprehension or speaking ability until you’re after the heavy pain med. and then after that as well…

• holy shit your back is gonna hurt. You can’t crack it. No twisting.

• you can’t use ice packs on your actual chest, but they’re lifesavers to sleep with- I put mine under my neck on my pillow to keep my neck from cramping.

• the pressure and tension on your chest is uncomfortable but not unbearable. Mostly it’s just annoying.

• you need pockets. Dear gods you NEED pockets.

• you do not want pants with a button. The button pants will not fit and it will make you sad. It’s just not even worth trying. Just have drawstring pants, it’s easier on the ego.

• wiping your ass is hard now. I’m sorry.

• blowing your nose hurts. Sneezing hurts. Coughing hurts. Laughing hurts. Just… avoid needing too much lung capacity all at once.

• If you have body hair prepare for your compression garments to hurt. My skin is so tender and painful all of the time. And there’s no break.

• if you keep your nipples you won’t be allowed to shower for 2 weeks. You’re going to start stinking. Have someone around you that is willing to wash your hair like how they wash babies hair. Also have rubbing alcohol so that you can neutralize your armpit stink because deodorant is off limits for your healing incisions.

• chapstick is not optional. You’re going to want it.

• same goes for a big cup with a well-sealed lid and a straw. Drink so much water.

• you’re going to feel helpless and useless. It sucks. It’s okay. Don’t push yourself.

• you’re going to want to wear pants with pockets to bed so you have somewhere to put your drains. You’ll be so tired that it doesn’t matter for the first couple days.

• you want the longest phone charger known to man. I promise. There is no such thing as too long.

• ask for the anti-nausea patch. You’re going to want it, and it lasts like 3 days. Throwing up HURTS.

• the healthier you can be before the surgery the easier your recovery is going to be. It isn’t fatphobic or stuck up or whatever else people say to lose excess weight and eat super clean before your surgery. Start moving your body every day. Start practicing going from sitting to standing and laying to standing without using your hands. Your body will reward effort to be healthy with safer surgery and easier healing.

• oh my god buy a serious laxative that you know works for you. Your body will literally forget how to shit.

• if you can, buy paper medical tape, gauze pads, and extra strength Tylenol. You will use them.

• plan to take naps. There is no weakness in a nap.

• get up and stretch your legs hourly. I promise it’s worth it. You will feel so much better.

• you’re going to want a hat or some sort of hair control.

• if the binder doesn’t fit you in the arm holes, you don’t have to let it chafe at your armpits and hurt like a mother fucker. Just cut the arm holes wider with a pair of scissors.

• have some sort of routine. You’ll fall apart otherwise.

• you’re going to be snippy and bitchy. Get ready to apologize for being an asshole. Short tempers happen, but don’t forget to say sorry.

• prepare yourself for all the random tape and other stuff to itch. You just have to grin and bear it. Things are so itchy.

That’s all I can think of right now, plus I’m sleepy. I will add to the list when I think of more ^_^

[geode-crystal]

Magic Whump Week, Shocking Grasp

Magic Whump Week. Day 3: Human Battery/ "Give us more"

Dipping into my DnD wizard's backstory! Excited to share this one, since I absolutely adore @kabie-whump 's boi Ventis and am honored to join the ranks of DnD whump!

560 words.

Characters: Chimalus (the wizard), Merrick (their non-wizard father)

CW: parental abuse (mostly emotional at this stage, no physical blows exchanged), magic whump, trauma responses, kinda sort of vaguely in the Conditioned Whumpee territory?

And probably does not match the DnD rules as written but hey, we have fun here.

___________________________

Shocking Grasp was such a simple spell. It cost so little to cast. And it yielded devastating results.

So it was no real wonder to Chimalus that their father wanted to use it in one of his… experiments.

It was another invention, this time. Another attempt to combine magic with mechanical structure. Honestly, Chimalus almost found that a relief. They, personally, would not be the one tested today.

Their comfort was short lived. Setting foot in their father’s stark room assaulted them with memories. Made them stand rigid, trying to stop themself from shaking.

Their father hated it when they trembled. It only made him angry much, much faster. Faster even than failure.

But this time, their task was so wonderfully simple. Not even worth trembling about. All they had to do was use their magic to power the machine. That was it. They were used to much more difficult experiments. Ones that were far more draining. Far more painful. Shocking Grasp didn’t even carry the risk of any backlash. Unlike other spells. Unlike other things their father had asked of them.    

They wouldn’t fail. They couldn’t. Too many spells, too many experiments had already gone wrong. And it was all Chimalus’ fault. Merrick had made that very clear.

Another failure meant incurring Merrick’s wrath. Again. Chimalus couldn’t afford that.

They would not fail this time.  

Everything would be fine.

That was what Chimalus kept telling themself. If nothing else, it led to them being almost eager to use the spell again and again. It was easy. Something even Chimalus couldn’t possibly mess up.

It started off well. Chimalus grabbed hold of the machine part that Merrick ordered them to hold. And they cast their spell. Once. Twice. The little sparks of lightning danced in their vision. It was almost beautiful, in a haunting sort of way. And Chimalus didn’t feel tired at all.

Not at first.

They quickly lost track of how many times they cast. Their voice was ragged from speaking the words over and over. Their free hand burned with exhaustion from the repeated gesture, however subtle that gesture was. But their father was so much more encouraging than usual. When he wasn’t muttering under his breath, or tinkering with something in the machine, he was actually speaking to them. And he was speaking in that way that told Chimalus that he was actually focused on them. On their task.

“That’s it, Chimalus. Go on.”

So Chimalus kept at it, filled both with renewed purpose and an odd sense of relief.

Then Merrick’s tone shifted.

Chimalus’ blood ran cold.

“Come now, Chimalus. You can do better than that.”

And Chimalus tried. They tried to do better.

“You must be stronger, Chimalus. I need more.”

Chimalus understood. He needed more from them.

He always needed more from them.

And Chimalus just had to provide.

So they pushed themself. They gave everything their father wanted. More power. More focus. More energy. More of themself. Each repeat of the spell made them more exhausted. Exhausted enough to give into those treacherous shivers.

But it was fine. Everything was fine. They would push through, they would get past this, and Merrick would be happy. Happy enough, perhaps, to leave them alone for the rest of the day. Happy enough for Chimalus to avoid any type of punishment.

After all, Shocking Grasp was such a simple spell…   

[star-going-supernova]

You know a fanfic that I am surprised no one else has written yet is one where Vanny comes back.

Like imagine a few weeks or so after the 3 star ending, the 3 of them are getting acclimated to each living in Vanessa's house or apartment. Ya boi Greg is finally used to the idea of having 2 caring adult like figures, Vanessa's nightmares are starting to not be as bad, and although Freddy's hrad was returned to the pizzaria, he is still able to communicate and walk around the apartment in the form of a large Lonely Freddy type toy that is connected to the Pizza plex with some super wifi.

Then it all goes wrong, one morning after waking up and eating breakfast Gregory gets up to wash his plate (or something), and that's when it happens. Vanessa suddenly doesn't feel... quite like herself. She feels...slower? At first she would probably dismiss it as her just being tired still. Then she feels herself getting up from her seat, and then reach for a knife that was left on the countertop ( she still has knifes, mostly for Greg to use to spread butter on toast and the like)

It is only when she hears a voice...HER voice that she connects the dots, Vanny is back . Now all she can do is watch as her worst nightmare, watching herself kill Gregory, a kid she has come to truly care about , comes true. Gregory, meanwhile, has just finished washing his plate and is about to head to his room and get ready for school when he turns and sees Vanessa blocking the way out of the small kitchen corridor. He is about to ask what she is doing when he notices the knife in her hand and her... eyes. Except that her eyes are now glowing a distinct purple instead of their normal green, ones he hasn't seen since . Calming green eyes that had reassured him after many a nightmare along with Freddy being himself. Gregory quickly comes to the same conclusion that the person in front of him is no longer the caring Vanessa.

Through all of this, Freddy was with Gregory near the sink talking about something random or making some dad joke (You are my Morbest friend, superstar!) He follows a similar thought process as above and also is unable to assist due to the toy he communicates through being made primarily of stuffing and a basic endoskeleton, thus lacking any defensive components to protect Gregory with.

Vanny raises her arm, Gregory is looking for a way out. He is also preparing for the possibility of being killed, and he doesn't want to give Vanny the satisfaction of being scared if that happens. Vanessa through all this is trying desperately to retake control all the while Vanny mocks her efforts, making sure that Vanessa won't be able to mentally look away from the death of her savior. Freddy is preparing to try and jump in front of Gregory at the last second to try and cushion the blow of the knife. Just before Vanny is able to deliver the killing blow, she dissappears. No warning at all, Freddy and Gregory watch as Vanessa's eyes flicker from purple back to green, drops the knife and collapses to the floor, hugs herself and sits in complete silence for a few seconds before bursting into hysterical tears.

Wow this got really long I apologize, I'm going to end it here. I can talk .keep about this Au of mine if yall want.

Later today, I'll be posting a "Vanny comes back" ficlet inspired by this ask, but this is so long on its own that I decided to separate them, lol.

[aidenpriceless]

Which Shrek character would excel the most in PFL, in your opinion?

Greetings. Apologies for forgetting this reply in the drafts, hopefully you are not inconvenienced by the delay. Am I correct in assuming that you would like me to draw some comparisons between the cast of the Shrek animated movie franchise and the roles of our agents? In that case, this question would require an in-depth analysis of their abilities for me to formulate a satisfying response.

There are plenty of characters within the source material, but let us stick with our main entries: Shrek, Donkey, Princess Fiona, and Puss in Boots.

Shrek

Superhuman Strength (diminishes when transformed into a human)

Durability (survived being burned alive)

Can travel on foot for miles without tiring

Hand-To-Hand Combat (Krav Maga, Irish Street Fighting)

Survival skills from living in the swamp

Improvising plans

Knowledge of fairytales and ogre lore

Powerful roar he can use to blow people backwards

Bonus abilities from the original book: swallowing lightning, heat vision, fire breathing

If we were to compare Shrek to any of our agent, we might see resemblances with Agent Washington and Agent Maine. His durability and being a jack of all trades would certainly make him an asset to our organization. He is likely to meeting our standards, in terms of performance. His temper, however, can cause many issues and further observation would be required to establish the proper measures we need to take. 8-/10

Princess Fiona

Master Martial Artist

Superhuman Strength (As an Ogre)

Durability

Expert Weapon Combatant (in the alternative world of Shrek Forever After), can hit targets while blindfolded

Team Leadership (in the alternative world of Shrek Forever After)

Princess Fiona is most similar to Agent Carolina, as we have seen the speed with which both are capable of landing hits. Her already enhanced strength is a great addition. She would benefit from using our camouflage armour enhancement and become virtually unstoppable. 9.5/10

Puss in Boots

Combat Proficiency (mostly as a swordsman) despite his small size

Sharp claws

Expert thief and hunter (thanks to speed and fluidity of movement which he also uses in dance challenges)

Distraction, using his cute nature

Guitar playing

Implied to be at least bilingual

Even more so than Princess Fiona, Puss In Boots is fast. Due to his ability to deceive, he would benefit from a holographic projection enhancement such as the one assigned to Agent Connecticut, who shares the usage of blades as her main weapon. In short, there is potential, but the determining factor is the presence and focus on the mission. Those values may not align with this character. I would not send him on a mission alone and not expect him to wander on his own. 7/10

Donkey

Empathy

Ability to keep secrets

Diplomacy, with which he has successfully changed others' stance regarding people or issues

As you may have noticed from exploring the franchise yourself, Donkey's special...Skillsets do not unfortunately include combat, which is the main requirement in hiring our agents. (3/10) If we are not strictly talking codenamed agents, there is plenty of members from freelancer personnel who could instruct him to a suitable profession. Namely, our field medic for simulation troopers, mr Frank DuFresne.

[lanternlightss]

📓 for the ask game thing! i want to know!

(ask game)

slides into the room and smiles. my first favorite thing to do to characters is squish and fawn over them. my second favorite thing is to torment them /j

anyways: what if. we took. a hammer to loop and siffrin.

SO. loop cat au. somewhere in, hmm, act 3, where you’re repeatedly fighting against the king !! and trying to get information !!! unfortunately this siffrin is tired and also is not good at fighting the king so he keeps. dying. to him. this is important information for later—notably the part where siffrin is beginning to take the dive into exhausted apathy and annoyance.

loop here. accidentally. makes a wish (i cannot decide how to word it, but something to do withh someone being better suited to the whole “guiding” thing. they don’t want to do this. they shouldn’t do this. the universe is just like ?? aren’t you already. oh well. squints. folks like cats, right.) And Well !! oops !!! when the next loop starts, they are no longer human shaped, and stare horrified at their paws. cut to siffrin who is laying in the field coming up with a new way to insult the king before hearing ?? yowling ?? coming closer to him ??? and getting a handful of cat launching themself at him.

siffrin trying to make sure this cat doesn’t get flung off: hello ????? are you okay ???? (since when was there a cat out here.)

loop: [Something. Has Not. Gone To Plan.]

siffrin: LOOP ???????????????

and now siffrin has a new snag to iron out !!! and a new party member, because, for as complicated loop’s feelings are towards siffrin, i feel like. they. wouldn’t want to be alone, rn. the universe already fucked them over once and now they’re having to deal with an even LESSER lack of autonomy. plus, this way it’ll be even easier to make sure everything goes right !!! (<- is what they keep telling themself, trying not to bolt from the house.) (i also really really want to explore what would happen if loop just dragged siffrin out, alone, and was like. okay we’re doing this ourselves okay. loop hangout part 2. you ready. i am not. don’t look into that. you didn’t hear that. let’s go. And Then continuing to experiment like that, just the two of them.) (<- ALSO ALSO this would make an act 5 situation :] very interesting. because they !!! have the optiioonnn. of following. right after. and also i wonder if this would make both of them even more “throw shit at the wall” after learning wish craft because. if they can break the time loop wish. they can. break this wish, right?) i swear this would be a mostly fluffy fic. loop cuddles up to siffrin when they have to sleep and keeps denying it.

loop does interact with the rest of the party at one point too :] after siffrin accidentally blows up the secret that they’re stowing away a cat, which does not go well 🤍 they look like this for almost the entire duration of it:

[ayvuhs]

the jennifer incident :: an umbrella academy fic

hello my baddies! i finally wrote a pretty good story and im excited to share it with you guys <3

i wrote this in like one day so sorry for it being short

~

UMBRELLA ACADEMY SPOILERS -all seasons but mostly s4 bc its just the scene at the beginning of s4 e4

teen klaus hargreeves x number 8 reader (they dont have a strong romantic relationship but its there)

reader is 16 or 17 so anyone can read !

warnings: death (from guns) so theres blood mentioned, one bad word, i call reginald just reginald bc i cant even write him as a father 💀

17 years being Number 8 in the Umbrella Academy and all the missions are the same thing. We get sent on the mission, defeat some bad guys and everyone cheers for us. Everyone is tired of it but Reginald won't give us a break.

Now it's just another mission and everyone is running around trying to get ready. Luther is being the little suck up to dad and attempting to hype everyone up.

I'm trying to pull a clearly-drunk Klaus out of the empty bathtub. "Are you kidding me? You just got back from rehab!"

"I'm California sober, y/n!" he remarks, slurring his words. This boy needs serious help, but I still love him deep down.

After our mission briefing, we all get in a jet to go to the old warehouse. We're supposed to locate and destroy a deadly weapon stored in shipping container. Something just feels so off to me. Perhaps it was from how suspicious Reginald sounded when he told us to not open the container. I hold tightly onto Klaus' hand the whole flight there.

When we get there, I instantly get the bad feeling again. We sneak inside and I'm staying closely in between Klaus and Allison. We finally come across the large, white container and Ben insists that he is able to handle the job.

"Go- I got this," Ben whispers assuringly.

"Okay, Diego, Allison, Klaus, Y/n, you're with me. Let's go," instructs Luther.

We follow him to distract some lurking bad guys until we hear what sounds like Ben talking to someone. The group runs back to the container and we see him looking into the giant tank.

Luther is the first to ask the obvious, "Ben! What the hell are you doing?"

"There's someone in here! We have to get her out," he whisper-yells back.

"That wasn't part of the plan."

"So what? You're gonna blow up an innocent girl?"

"But dad said-"

"I don't give a fuck what dad said! We need to help her."

"Ben, wait!" Luther tried arguing back, but knew there wasn't stopping him so he had to call for backup. Through his earpiece, Luther called Reginald. "Dad, we got a bit of a problem."

Ben reaches into the tank, pulling the girl out. After they both climb down and onto the floor, I am able to see who it is. It's a young who has long dark messy hair in a ponytail and is wearing a giant white dress.

"Okay, let's go. Ben," I say to try to get us to leave.

But right as the two make full eye contact, a shot is heard. Ben falls to the ground. Another. The girl in the white dress drops down next to him.

Behind the two was Reginald, holding a small shotgun. "I told you not to open the container," he scolded.

I stare in horror, Klaus wrapping an arm around my shoulder and his other hand covering his mouth in shock. I don't even need to look over to know that Diego, Allison, and Luther had our same reactions.

He wouldn't- right? Right...?

"Ben..." I whisper quietly, my voice shaky, Klaus hugging me tighter.

The two lie dead on the floor. The young girl's white dress slowly getting stained dark red from the blood spreading.

i dont know how to end stories but i hope you liked it!

[clumsiestgiantess]

Day 3: Cozy

A short from the Fantasy/Reality universe that I talked about here. (The tinies’ heights are actually around two centimeters, not two inches, idk why I mixed up the two)

The farmhouse was rarely a lively place.  Once in a while the surrounding neighbors would gather at Heather’s for a celebration of some birthday or holiday, but other than that, it was just her and her small self-owned farm.  Of course, there were multiple farmhands who came and went, taking various jobs off her hands for a time, but they had their own places to live.  Especially with the arrival of winter, the farmhouse would normally be a dull place.  But with the almost simultaneous discovery of two sentient humanoid races living on the farm, the normal lonely chain of events had been disrupted.

Vine, Sage, and Seril sat together on the windowsill, watching snow swirl across the ground.  All three of them only took up about five inches of space.  Heather threw another log on the fire and they flinched as it crackled and flickered around the new wood.  She had to watch her step as she walked across the room to her cushioned chair beside the window.  There were at least 30 or 40 people wandering about on the floor, all of which were less than an inch tall.  The entire village of cights, as well as a group of fairies, had taken shelter in Heather’s house.  Once she’d warned everyone of the impending early snowstorm, Sage had asked if she, her brother, and a few of her friends could stay over until the storm passed.  From there, more and more people asked to stay over until Heather decided to simply open the doors — anyone was welcome.

With a tired huff she sat herself down on the comfortable reclining chair, but not before double-checking its surface for any smaller guests.  “Are we all stormwatching this afternoon?” Heather asked the little group on the windowsill.  Sage leapt up excitedly, grabbing her makeshift megaphone.  They were all so small they needed devices like that just so she could hear them.  She’d gotten pretty good at making the tiny things having crafted so many.  When it was just her and Sage, the cight would just yell into an empty echoey water bottle to be heard.  “The snowflakes the same size as I am!  I’m so glad I don’t have to be out in that!”  Still, her little voice was not nearly at a normal volume, but at the very least it would be heard.

“Thank you for letting everyone stay here,” her brother Vine added.  “And if you hadn’t told us about the storm, we wouldn’t have cleared the fields in time.”  Heather nodded, “Of course!  I would have opened my house up to all of you every winter if I knew you were out there.”  Seril tugged at his arm, “It’s getting colder here; can we maybe skip watching the snow today?  It’s the same thing we saw yesterday.”  Vine laughed and excused himself, draping his coat over the fairy’s shivering wings.  They both wandered away towards the heat of the fire down a little rope that had been set up to provide access for such a small race.  Heather looked down to the last remaining cight; she rubbed her hands over her arms to warm up.  “I wasn’t cold until she mentioned it,” Sage grumbled, “I like watching the snow.  I like being out in it!  Mostly because it feels better coming back in to warm up, though.”

After a moment of glancing between the window and the fireplace, she strode up to the glass.  Heather had to lean over to see what she was doing.  Blowing the tiniest warm breath on the freezing glass pane, she began doodling on it, drawing pictures in the condensation — a trick she’d been fascinated by yesterday, when Heather showed it to her.  Sage huffed in annoyance as her drawings quickly dissipated into the air as the glass cooled off again.  Her little breaths weren’t enough to keep the drawings for more than a few seconds at a time.  “Heather?” she asked hesitantly, turning to face the single gigantic eyeball that watched her with kindness.  It was strange and even terrifying to see at first, but she’d gotten used to sights like that.  They came with having such a large friend.

“Can you blow on it like last time?  Yours stayed up for like.. a whole minute.”  Heather nodded happily, letting heat drift from her open mouth to the glass.  It fogged up in an instant.  “There you go, enjoy!”  Sage thanked her and drew for a while before the seeping cold finally got to her.  The sound of her teeth chattering blocked out any artistic thoughts.  It didn’t take much for a small cight to freeze, but a human…  Humans had so much warmth naturally radiating from their skin, and to the tiny shivering person on the windowsill, the heat was practically calling to them.  “Heather, I’m c-cold-”  Before Sage could finish her sentence, a gigantic hand slid in front of her like a wagon pulling up to her doorstep.  “Get in,” she said with a smile.

It was a bit of a struggle for the two centimeter tall cight to climb into the human’s hand, but it was all worth it once she did.  Her tiny form was slid between two gentle fingers and lifted up to the human’s chest.  Warmth flooded through her body, and she shivered involuntarily, casting away the cold.  Sage sighed, soaking in the heat of such an impossible place.  “Are you warm enough, Sage?” Heather asked with laughter in her voice.  Sage’s wistful sigh had whistled through the megaphone accidentally.  “Yeah, you’re so much cozier than the fire.  It’s too hot over there.”  “And too far away,” came a remark from the floor.  Vine and Seril had only just made it to the wooden floorboards right below the window.  “Do you think we can join in?” Seril asked hopefully, zooming up to buzz in Heather’s ear.  “Sure!  There’s plenty of room for you two.  Scootch on in.”  

Seril landed gracefully on Heather’s shoulder, laying lightly against the side of her neck.  She waited patiently as Heather brought Vine up in her hand.  He hopped off and she carefully guided him to sit with her.  Seril only offered because if she fell, she could right herself in the air and fly right back up, but if Vine fell, he didn’t have wings to help him.  Sure, Heather would probably catch him, but it was still better to avoid it rather than try to stop it once it happened.

With everyone situated, Heather carefully sat back in her chair, filled with her own sort of warmth through looking after everyone.  It was surreal and utterly fascinating that there were two people sitting in the crook of her neck and shoulder, deep in conversation, and another rather needy person squirming between her fingers.  She slid Sage onto the pad of her thumb and held her up to her face so she could see her properly.  With her tiny size, Heather rarely got a decent look at her cight friend.  She knew her hair was black (or maybe dark brown) and she might have blue eyes, though Heather couldn’t be sure, but it really didn’t matter what Sage looked like.  The two had been through so much together that something as silly as not knowing someone’s hair or eye color really couldn’t matter less.

Sage grinned widely, slowly coming to stand on the edge of the woman’s finger, using the tip of her nose for balance.  “Do I look like how you remember?” she asked, balancing the makeshift megaphone so it wouldn’t slip out of her hands.  “Hmm.. you might’ve shrunk a little,” Heather mused jokingly.  Sage rolled her eyes and gestured to the side of Heather’s head.  “Can I sit on your other shoulder so I don’t feel precariously balanced between life and death?”  Heather snickered, “Just let me look at you for a second!  I rarely get to see you.”  “You see me all the time; I’m literally living in your house now!”  The human rolled her eyes, “You know what I mean.”  Cautiously settling Sage between two fingers, Heather brought her directly in front of her eye.  The tiny woman was about the same height as it.

At last she was able to confirm that Sage’s eyes were, in fact, blue.  Sage herself tried to look bored, but she couldn’t hold back the recognition of how impossibly stunning such a large iris looked like so close up, and found herself staring in awe.  Finally, the human brought her away and set her gently on her other shoulder.  “Tomorrow we’ll go outside and see the snow like you wanted,” Heather promised, “The storm’s supposed to die down by then.”  She turned, her breath blissfully warm against Sage’s skin.  “Alright,” the cight replied, trying hard not to let the bliss she felt seep into her voice.  “I think I can tolerate another day inside.”

[udaberriwrites]

Fic Writer Self Rec

Fic authors self-rec! ✨ When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers ❤️

Oooh, a chance to ramble about my fics, I see, well let's do this! Thank you, @sliebman10!

Let's tag... @mikaharuka , @alpaca-clouds , @thememoryofthatday , @sapphosewrites , @axolotlsupremacyowo , @0nelittlebirdtoldme , @kayedium-writes and @tsunderewatermelon !

Ok, ok, so... as usual, I'm going to be jumping around, because you guys know how my attention span can be xD

1. Life is a Rollercoaster; or Tao Xu's Fight Against the Big Butterfly of Doom (Heartstopper | 11.1k | Fluff, Humor, Time Travel)

Tao got the chance to go back in time and undo his worst mistake. Tao prevented Charlie from being outed or bullied. Tao changed things enough that, the second time around, Charlie didn't get assigned the seat next to Nick Nelson in form.

…Fuck.

Or: the Butterfly Effect sucks, and if Tao has to take desperate measures to ensure his friend's happiness, he will. He draws the line at Iron Man 2 though, someone has to keep some standards around here.

I binged the show and immediately got the urge to write something for it, but I didn't expect it to blow up as it did! I had fun with this one, and the readers were super nice and encouraging, plus sharing this one is what led me to eventually meet @mikaharuka as we rambled over our fics, so for that alone it's always going to have a special significance for me 😁

2. Neither Grief Nor Glory (TSOA/Hades | 7.6k | Angst, Smut)

Dying had been a relief, but death is turning into its own kind of torment.

Dying was just the beginning. Achilles' journey back to Patroclus is a long and twisted one. Along the way he'll have to confront his unaddressed grief, face his many regrets and learn to truly become a man worthy of Patroclus' unconditional love.

But like all journeys, eventually he'll reach his safe harbor.

My first yuletide! This one took months and a couple of minor breakdowns, but the end result is something I am very proud of, both in terms of the prose and the worldbuilding. And my giftee left the loveliest comment ☺️

3. All That Matters (Asterix the Gaul | 2.6k | Character Study, Queerplatonic Relationships)

Asterix has always felt different, but he has Obelix, and that is usually enough. Everybody else has questions, however, and he grows tired of answering.

"He wants to shout, even if he still doesn't know what he wants to say, even if he knows that if he lets his frustration take hold of his tongue, he will regret the harm he will cause."

This was... very, very cathartic to write. I remember rewriting sections of this so often, and I am humbled by the response it had. It was a very validating experience.

4. Life is a Flower, Love is the Honey (Deep Space Nine | 9.5k | Romance and Fluff)

“I don’t think Julian would like that,” Leeta said, without pausing to think about it, but… “We could ask him,” Rom had replied. And wasn’t that an interesting idea?

(A self-indulgent, mostly Rom-centric, Julian/Leeta/Rom fic because I was re-watching ‘Bar Association’ and this happened. I have no regrets.)

The one that brought me back into writing, after several years of hiatus... and the one that gave me confidence to push on, even if I nearly backed out due to it featuring a strange rarepair. This story is always going to be special for me <3

4. When You Speak, I Hear Silence (Deep Space Nine | 1.8k | Friendship)

Terok Nor is no more, and strange new aliens are coming to the newly named Deep Space Nine. Nog doesn't expect life to change; but then he finds a friend, who gives him the greatest gift he will ever receive.

If there's a fic where I wouldn't change a single word or a moment of the writing process, it has to be this one. I'm so glad I didn't go with my initial idea, because this version with Jake&Nog just made things click for me ^_^

[00bummer]

i stopped using this blog like 4 years ago bc i became less catastrophically depressed and also i felt that after my last major breakup i was using it in a really self destructive & self flagellating way, & i pretty much stopped using twitter like a year ago too because i could feel myself becoming a certified Boyfriend Girl and it was annoying. and i haven’t been journaling for a few years either. idk why, i think maybe bc i was just sick of thinking & talking about myself. i haven’t been in therapy or taken any medication in like 3 years either. idk, i’ve just been trying to live my life & it’s mostly been working. i don’t live with my mom anymore. i have a really wonderful partner and we’re very in love, & it’s been two years & i haven’t done anything to blow it up yet. i have a semi-grownup job that i make like zero money at & i’m way too emotionally entangled with, but it doesn’t make me want to kill myself, so it beats making lattes. i still feel a white hot lance of panic in my brain when i think about the future, but there’s nothing i can really do about that. i’m like a “normal” weight now, which upsets me if i actually think about it, so mostly i just lock that part of my brain in a cage and call it a day. idk. maybe that’s “recovery” maybe i’m just being a coward about it. i feel a lot of guilt bc i used to pay attention to the world and what was happening in it, & i had a lot of opinions about justice and fairness and the fate of humanity, and now i pretty much just play d&d and listen to podcasts of other people playing d&d. i only want to listen to the same albums and watch the same movies i already like. i think i should probably make new friends bc all my old ones keep moving away, but the thought of doing that makes me really tired. i’m only 27 which feels too young for my personality and interests to become this fossilized.

& i know this all sounds like complaining, but i’m mostly pretty happy these days. things are more good than bad.

idk why i felt the need to write this all out, i think i’ve just been feeling like… intellectually flat these days. like i used to spend a lot more time thinking about. uh everything i guess. i feel like i sacrificed my interest and curiosity for the world in exchange for being less miserable and it worked but now i’m kind of bored.

i really don’t know what the point of this is!

i guess if you’re out there, so am i, & i hope you’re doing well.

[sheepskinnedgoat]

I guess it's greatly possible that I have a very... I don't know, skewed perspective about stuff like abuse and harm as a mentally ill person. People say stuff so broadly and I can't begin to describe how much seeing that stuff at my lowest points harmed me and made me worse. People are very good at framing things in ways that made me feel like they don't actually believe in people healing and doing better after making really huge mistakes. Because I made BIG ones and I regret them so fucking deeply. I am fighting with the concept of self-forgiveness because I've been taught that there's no retribution for shitty and abusive behavior.

I don't want to be so bold as to lay out what happened, but I guess I might as well. My wife is encouraging me and I've been wanting to talk about it, anyway.

Trigger warning for discussion of abuse, mental health, and suicide under cut.

Last year, when my mom started dying, I started declining very rapidly and severely. I don't think I've ever outright said this because of how I've been treated in the past for being open, but I have Bipolar I Disorder. I've seen doctors and therapists on an off over the last decade+ since my diagnosis. My struggle is a common one. I'm very typical of someone with extreme mood swings and psychosis. I most frequently experience dysphoric mania, which is where my psychosis typically rears its ugly head.

In these moments until last year, all of my shitty behavior mostly involved me expressing anger and frustration with wall hitting, throwing my things to break them, hurting myself, and degrading my wife. It was not always this way, but moving away from home and having an unforgiving job lead to me falling back off my medication. Over the last 3-4 years, I have become very terrible in my health and how I act when my brain overreacts to situations and stresses around me.

Then Mom got cancer.

I began having even more cycling, lots and lots of depression, increasing suicidal thoughts, and episodes. Bad episodes. One of the holidays I was meant to go see my mom, I had a serious meltdown because I was tired of going to see how much closer she was. It was hard seeing her dying. She was worse every time I made it out, and something minor had triggered another episode. I then locked myself in the bathroom and tried to kill myself.

My wife tried stopping me. I became physically violent and started saying really horrible things. This episode came to an end, and it seemed despite everything I had done very little physical damage to her by her own account. I do not remember much about what I actually did or said. It's like a faded dream I had once and only the outlines are left.

I had another episode I do not remember, triggered by seemingly nothing. She informed me later on I had hit her, and asked me why. I was unable to explain, because I didn't even know what she was referring to. I do now, but the overall details are gone.

Later on, not terribly long before she passed away, I tried to end things again. I recklessly drove to a graveyard on the back roads and began attempting to hurt myself. I started getting calls, my phone blowing up. I have some vague memories, but I am not sure if all of them are real. I do know I ignored my mom out of shame, but eventually answered my aunt. I think at the beginning I answered my wife and berated her before hanging up, but I'm not positive. I wanted to die more than anything else in the world. I was so angry. I don't even know why. My wife remembers how it unfolded, but ultimately none of it makes sense.

That was also the day my neighbor decided to pick a fight with me about my animals, which then snowballed in her repeatedly calling animal control, lol. Did not work out the way she wanted. She kept lying to them to get them out to see them, but they could never find the starving, tortured animals. What a fucking nightmare that was on top of everything.

My mom died, and I don't really remember how I felt or reacted or what I did during that time. It's difficult, and I think it's because I have been blocking it out as much as possible. Losing my mom was something I knew would be hard, but I deeply underestimated it.

Later on in the year, I did try killing myself again. Once again she tried stopping me, and even kicked in the door. It got more physically violent than the last time and I was more vicious and cruel.

Overall, I'm stuck with guilt and shame and self-hatred. Beyond these incidents, I lapsed repeatedly into despicable actions and behavior. I frequently feel out of control, but not everything I say to her is done in these extreme episodes where I'm trying to hurt myself. Rage is unfortunately a really major symptom for me, and it's activated by some of the dumbest shit. I feel like some things have become bad habits, and I'm constantly having to talk out things with my spouse because I cannot even imagine what it must be like to be on the receiving end of needless cruelty and vitriol.

I know what I have done is largely abusive and wrong. Things have been bad enough that I kept having long periods of not wanting help. All I have wanted is death, to not exist, to end what I'm feeling. Being angry is not fun. Being in pain sucks. Being sick is terrible. I am devastated by what I have done, but somehow my wife is holding strong and pushing me forward. Because of her, I managed to drag myself into getting therapy. I got lucky that someone in my local community is a therapist with the same disorder as me, and when she advertised openings I jumped on it, even though I didn't want to help myself.

Which is something key, that people bring up a lot online. People who don't want help are the worst, right? Irredeemable, it seems. I didn't want help. I wanted to kill myself. I wanted to die. I still want to die, but I've found a burst of driving force within myself and, as of today, I finally have an appointment with a psychiatrist to seek medication management. I cannot get any traction otherwise. Therapy has been helpful and my therapist is amazing, but there's no stability. I default to self-hate, guilt, and suicidality. I default to violence, though generally verbal excepting those instances of psychosis.

I can't grasp what I keep getting told by my wife and my therapist about being accountable but forgiving myself. It seems false. Impossible. It doesn't feel like I should, that doing that or pointing to my broken brain is appropriate. I'm always terrified what people will think of me if they know the truth of my struggles and how much I have hurt the person closest to me. My only support, because I keep distancing myself further and further from people.

In all of this, she gained friends that used me as a stop-gap for getting to know specifically her. It caused some rocky turmoil in our relationship. I blame myself for her mistakes there, because maybe if I hadn't been acting like a piece of shit, she wouldn't have felt so lonely. And they found out that things got bad, but not any of the details about it because they never asked or gave her a chance to explain when she wasn't distressed. I fear them and what they think of me. I fear them going out into shared queer spaces and telling all the queers I'm slowly trying to get to know that I'm a horrible abuser that beat my wife and controls her. Because they're not wrong. I don't feel like they're wrong, but they're also responsible parties in their own shitty behavior, but who would hear me after they find out I'm a terrible person?

It's... I suppose a bit self-centered, this paranoia. She tells me I don't deserve this, and that they don't matter. I'm trying to believe her, because if nothing else matters she does, and her opinions do. She has to live with me. She's married to me.

So I am untreated bipolar. It's a fucking nightmare. I fight with my abusive and toxic tendencies, that I fight to not participate in. But fighting back my unstable reactions to things is a chore and I become fatigued very often. I don't know why she endures for me, but she does. I love her, as much as I can. Sometimes I am numb, but she says she knows I love her and it makes me cry.

People are complicated. I have not always been very kind or empathetic. I only recently learned that having a hard time with empathy during mixed episodes is pretty normal for bipolar. It's not always. It's another thing that sees extreme differences depending on how I'm feeling, and I sure do feel too much too often.

I am healing myself as best as I can. I am working to do better and be better even while my brain persists on convincing me I don't want help; that I should just self-destruct. I am a human. I wish more people could see that part about me even when I'm not being a very good or nice person. I will be better someday, but it would be a lot easier if it ever felt like everyone else could give me the grace to fuck up while sick and still have room to take that accountability without feeling evil for my actions.

I have been a victim. I have been an abuser. Someday, I hope I can just be healed.

[dreadsuitsamus]

ELS BABY!!! Tell me about your relationship dynamics with Bulma and Vegeta🎤🩷 (ignore it if you don't want to. i hope you have good day/night :3 mwaah)

baby i love you so much for this ask skahfskdurheh 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷 answer below the cut since it got a little long teehee 🤭

also have the most wonderful day/night, my love! 🩷🩷🩷

bulma and i were happily married for seven years before we ever even met vegeta. we met as teens and the sparks flew almost instantly and those sparks have never left! but living with vegeta (this was actually at my insistence! i am too soft) made us slowly realize we had room for another and it made a perfect dynamic

bulma and vegeta are definitely bold and their personalities clash at times, and thus they do the majority of the arguing. i often end up as a mediator between them, though sometimes i just let 'em fight lol especially if it's over something extremely petty (one time they argued over if it's "sock sock shoe shoe" or "sock shoe sock shoe", with vegeta winning that one since i've always secretly hated that bulma does "sock shoe sock shoe" when getting ready 🤢)

neither of my babes can cook, and with veggie man's appetite i had to step my game up. it's not due to a lack of money for takeout or a private chef, but more so my pride lol i took classes and i learned how to make better meals for them! not just taste wise, but balance wise as well. i make sure they get alllllllllll the proteins they need, especially vegeta for his training. vegeta and i have a secret though, which is that he loves texas toast but hates loving something with such a 'ridiculous' name so he never, ever asks for it to be included with a meal. i'm not dumb though, i see how his eyes light up when i make it! so i make it at least once a week with dinner, just for him. sometimes i even make it for him as a midnight snack, since it's so easy to make. he my baby<3

bulma and i do all the pda. when the three of us are out together, you'd never know vegeta is our man. he's not into public affection, and that's just fine with me and bulma since we still have each other to hold hands with or smooch when we're feeling a little needy. vegeta will blush a little when he sees us kiss in public, and if we blow him a kiss he pretends to not like it but secretly he's just ready to go home so he can get those kisses for real. one time bulma and i got drunk during a night out with the girls and when vegeta came to the club to bring us home (he missed us lol) we smothered his face in smooches and he turned redder than bulma's lipstick when he saw all the lipstick stains we left. it may have been the booze, but watching vegeta try to wash it away was funny 🤭

i ended up in the role of housewife, basically. vegeta trains most of the day, and bulma goes to work doing her scientist thing. sometimes it gets a little lonely for me to be home all day and doing the housework, but it is also the most relaxing feeling lmao these two brats are a lot of work!! but when they come back home my heart is definitely full again<3 also bulma's laundry is the worst bc so many of her clothes are dryclean only or have some sort of bs way to clean them. vegeta's laundry is so much easier to do and that's why he gets an extra kiss from me on laundry day. bulma gets her extra kiss every other day of the week though, and for no special reason. she my wife and i like to smooch her<3

when i have a bad day after running a bunch of errands, vegeta will listen to me rant until i tire myself out and opt to just snuggle with him while he watches tv. he knows i just need an outlet for my rage and has no problem being the one to hear me. bulma, however, will be the one to want to go find the people that gave me a hard time, especially if it came from an employee, and then she ends up being the one vegeta has to listen to until she tires herself out and opts for tv snuggles. it's mostly petty stuff when i rant about my day, though if it's particularly bad then vegeta himself will want to find the people that upset me and deal with it his way

and then it's us listening to vegeta rant until he gets tuckered out and needs tv snuggles

[yuktiwritings64]

A DAY IN MY BOARDING SCHOOL

Today I am going to tell you the whole schedule of my school :-

In the morning we used to wake up at 5.15 am. Aunties in our hostel blow whistles for 3 to 4 times and knock every door of a room and wake up students. We had to report at 5.35 am outside the hostel and leave for morning games at 5.45am. Every student was allotted a sport so according to their sport they had to report their coaches. Sports like volleyball, swimming, gymnastics, athletics, football, basketball, hockey, horse riding, shooting,lawn tennis, cricket,boxing etc.

After practicing we run back to our hostel and hurry up for bathing and dress up as per our acedamic schedule and getting ready in just 45 min in such a crowd because bathrooms were not personal. Every house has a bathroom and in each house there was approximately 45 students. U can think how we manage to took bath and got ready on time and if we got late then punishments would be ready for us so at any cost we should be on time. Again we had to report and leave for the breakfast in our mess and different type of meal we used to get. Menu was fixed for each day of a week. For instance BREAKFAST MENU:- Monday - bread, butter,cutlet and milk. Tuesday- breakpakoda/ aloo Puri and milk. Wednesday - bread,jam,cutlet and milk. Thursday,Friday, Saturday same as monday Sunday - parathas

And after having the breakfast we used to leave for our classes. We took our classes as per the schedule and in a break we got lemonade and then back to classes. After taking remaining classes we had to leave our academic block and move ahead for our lunch. Eagerly waiting for delicious lunch. As breakfast lunch and dinner was also had fixed menu . Lunch menu :-. Monday - rajma chawal(rice) ,chapati,potato and capsicum vegetable and salad. Tuesday - dal chawal, cauliflower veggie, chapati Wednesday - dal(pulses) chawal, potato vegetable Thursday -. Kadi chawal, onion potato and chapati Friday - dal chawal,mix vegetable and chapati. Saturday - chole chawal, vegetable and chapati. Sunday- dal chawal, some vegetable and chapati. After having lunch we used to go back to hostel. Being very tired we just changed our dress of sports . Every house has different colour T shirt. We have 4 houses, the name of houses were very fascinating to me. The names were :-. INDRA ( green t shirt). SOMA ( yellow t shirt). SURYA ( red t shirt). VARUNA ( blue t shirt). For sports we have to wear t shirt of our own house. Changing clothes lie on a bed and sleep 😴 actually a nap because after that we had to go for games again. We had to Change our clothes atleast for 4 to 5 times a day . willingly and unwillingly we had to attend games and we used to have some milk and some snacks . Rest of the day spend in prep, dinner and sleep. Prep is a time period of 2 hours for self study in which I used to sleep mostly and dinner after that. Of course as breakfast and lunch there was also diversity in menu of dinner with some speciality and that were desserts🤤 the best part of a day. Then back to hostel and it's sleeping time again but obviously there was so much work to do like of academics, seniors works, reporting, prayers etc. In short it was a very exhausting day. The schedule should be followed strictly, there was no choice to escape it or leave it . Just like as per to our sleeping schedule lights off timing was 10.00 pm so our aunties ( Aya) duty was to follow this rule and we have to follow aunties instructions. From escaping this schedule there was a way and that was to get sick and admitted in infirmary . Sometimes I pray to God that make me sick because this schedule sucks but the truth is being unhealthy or sick is more problematic than the schedule 😂. For me it was very challenging to be in time or punchtual. So punishment was ready for me as a dish😵🤭. It was a miracle when I was in time. Discussing the whole day with my friends is different type of satisfaction. Even today when we talk it expands upto 2 to 3 hours. Hostel Life is beautiful with friends. And i have enjoyed a lot .

I will come soon with new stories of my hostel experiences till then stay tuned.

Tata👋

[let-it-all-out7]

this is gonna be a long one, i’m mostly typing all this out so i can process it cuz i’ve been in shock almost all day

I live in LA. Tuesday night my dad was extremely stressed and rushed to my grandparents house, leaving me alone with my (very young disabled) brother. I’m used to being alone watching him for short periods of time since he’s fairly low maintenance but i usually have some time beforehand.

All i knew at the time was there was a fire in their area, and there were strong winds, but i assumed it was fairly small and avoidable. He comes back even more frazzled with my grandparents and their dog. They stay the night and i think everything is gonna blow over by tmrw

Cut to this (Wednesday) morning, i get woken up by my dad telling me we have to leave as soon as possible, and to grab a few days worth of clothes and anything SUPER sentimental. The smoke is so thick in the sky i genuinely think it’s afternoon (i have a shitty sleep schedule) but no, it’s 9am.

I’m trying not to break down, because i’m the big brother yk? if im stressed my little brother will sense it and everything will go even more downhill

I’m trying not to bug my dad as much as i can, and because of that i start spiralling and come to the conclusion that he won’t let me bring my pet rats because he’s allergic and there’s a dog in the car and the travel cage is too small ect ect

we get in the car and start driving. I’m sandwiched between my brothers car seat, suitcases, and my grandma. It’s extremely uncomfortable but i put up with it.

My mom has been taking care of my great grandma in [place away from fire] since new years. She’s my main emotional support. whenever things get really rough she’s the first person i come to. and she’s not there. insert abandonment issues going haywire

after half an hour of driving we get to my grandparents house because my grandpa needs to get his insulin. apparently the fire wasn’t “justt near them”, part of their shrubbery in their yard had caught fire from the embers. it was dark and they couldn’t see where the hose was, and they nearly didn’t put it out.

They make lunch while my phone is ringing every ten minutes with evacuation notices, definitely not helping my stress.

we get back in the car eventually. I sleep the entire 2-3 hour drive. i don’t think i would’ve made it without crying if i didn’t. meanwhile the entire time my brother is screaming in my face and my grandma is talking politics and- it’s just. a lot.

We get to the hotel. We’re safe now. We meet up with my mom. They go to a restaurant while i watch the dog. Everything starts crashing down on me emotionally

i tell my mom abt leaving the rats and bird behind and how i’m worried for them and i finally break down crying, meanwhile my dad is on an important call so i’m trying my best not to make too much noise. My mom both consoles and also scolds me for not texting her about bringing the pets.

our house isn’t in any immediate danger, we mostly evacuated because the air quality was horrendous and my whole family has breathing issues

it’s 3:15-ish am now and i’ve been silently sobbing trying not to wake anyone up for the past half an hour ish. I’m so fucking tired and im so fucking scared

.