#but sometimes that’s weird!! so you can’t!!!

[tempest-loupnoir]

If your character gets migraines (or you do), vision and depth perception can be greatly affected, too. Everyone is different, but for me, my ocular migraines sometimes come without head pain. My vision feels like I am looking through a watered down milk, or dirty glass. I can See, for all intents and purposes, but I can’t focus on anything more than six inches from my head, and I become tunnel visioned. Everything in my peripheral vision is just haze.

It’s very scary and frustrating when I’m outside walking because these visual disturbances are often accompanied by minor dizziness. I can still walk? But my depth perception and my awareness of my own height is messed up.

If you’re a glasses wearer, you may be familiar with the weird sensation that you’re suddenly child sized and everything feels weirdly taller, or you feel like a giant and everything feels smaller? Going down steps with a brand new glasses prescription is very disorienting. I feel like I have to step down a lot further than normal. I have to take it very slowly and hold onto a handrail or relative to keep the vertigo at bay. My migraines can do the exact same thing to me as new eyeglasses.

I am always sensitive to light. Cloudy days are almost worse than sunny days because the sky is blindingly white instead of blue, and I can’t escape the light reflecting back at me, like I can on sunny days that cast nice dark tree and building shadows. I guess it’s like being surrounded with snow. Too much of a light color (even indoors such as a white painted room, fully lit with no other colors) makes me feel like I need to put on sunglasses. I have transition lenses in my glasses but they stay clear indoors and on cloudy days, unless I am coming from the rain (dark rain polka dots on otherwise clear lenses is very annoying and they take longer to adjust than full lens exposure to temperature/light differences.)

As you know, migraines do cause all of the body’s senses to go into overdrive and even the dim light of a phone set to night mode with the brightness turned all the way down is still too bright. But my migraines don’t always cause sensitivity. Sometimes I can still stare at my phone and watch tv, but my ability to focus is the pits. Words become Alphabet Soup, where I have an idea of what letter the word starts with, but I have to fish for the accompanying letters to assemble the word, and it’s all a murky mess in my mind. My reading comprehension goes down the toilet and my ability to remember anything that is happening in a tv show, movie, book, or conversation is just as awful, but I am bored and need a distraction from pain so I tolerate as much as I can.

writing advice for characters with a missing eye: dear God does losing an eyes function fuck up your neck. Ever since mine crapped out I've been slowly and unconsciously shifting towards holding my head at an angle to put the good eye closer to the center. and human necks. are not meant to accommodate that sorta thing.

[luvzshy]

I’d really like something like billie and reader are together for a while now, everybody supports them but ONE friend of billie. they managed the situation but when billie surprisingly proposes this friend decides to talk to billie and declare her feelings, while doing it reader arrives in the room and shit hit the fan lol billie being the good fiancée we know she’ll be gets on reader side ofcccc

am i crazy? you can say so

The Confession That Almost Broke Us

Word Count: 1,130 words

Warnings: Angst, jealousy, unrequited love, emotional confrontation

a/n: okay so this is interestinggggg i love drama bro and if i was lana maaann, i would be crashing out 😭😭

You and Billie had been together for almost two years now, and life was good. You fit into her world like you’d been meant to be there all along. Billie’s friends and family had embraced you with open arms, thrilled to see her so happy and grounded. But there was always one person who seemed a little distant—Lana. She was one of Billie’s oldest friends, always hanging around on the periphery, smiling politely and keeping her comments to herself. You’d tried to shake off the weirdness between you, but sometimes, when she’d look at Billie, you couldn’t help but feel a chill of something… off.

Whenever you’d bring it up to Billie, she’d just laugh and brush it aside. “That’s just Lana being Lana,” she’d say. “She’s always been a little intense.”

You trusted Billie, so you didn’t push it. After all, no relationship is perfect, and if one friend wasn’t thrilled, you’d manage. Still, there were times when you felt Lana’s eyes on you, something guarded and closed-off, like she was holding onto a secret.

It all came to a head one night, when Billie planned a small gathering at your place to celebrate the anniversary of her first album release. Friends, family, a few close people from the industry—it was an intimate, warm night, with laughter and drinks flowing. Everyone crowded into your living room, sharing memories, laughing over stories from Billie’s early touring days, and just soaking up the celebration.

As the night wore on, Billie got quiet. She held your hand tightly, glancing around the room with a smile that seemed… different, more nervous than you were used to. Then, without warning, she stood up and faced you, holding your hand tightly. She took a deep breath, and your heart stopped as she dropped down on one knee.

The room fell silent. You could see wide-eyed smiles and gasps all around you, but all you could focus on was Billie. She looked up at you with a mix of nervousness and warmth, her fingers gently squeezing yours.

“Y/N,” she said, her voice shaky but steady. “You have made me happier than I ever thought I could be. Being with you… it’s like, every day, I’m the luckiest person in the world. And I can’t imagine my life without you.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, popping it open to reveal a beautiful, sparkling ring. “Will you marry me?”

The room burst into cheers and applause, but for you, it all faded into the background. With tears in your eyes, you nodded, overwhelmed with joy. “Yes! Of course, yes!”

Billie stood up and kissed you, pulling you close as your friends and family gathered around, congratulating you both, hugging and laughing and celebrating.

Everyone, that is, except Lana. She stood off to the side, her expression a mixture of shock and something else… pain, maybe? Her face was tight, and she didn’t join in the celebration. Billie seemed to notice, too, glancing her way with a slight frown before shaking it off and pulling you back into the moment.

The rest of the evening flew by in a blur of laughter, toasts, and shared joy. You tried to shake off the moment with Lana, chalking it up to shock or maybe just jealousy. But later that night, when Billie left the room to get something from the kitchen, Lana slipped away, following her.

Curious, you hung back, deciding to give them a moment. But then you heard hushed voices coming from the other room. Lana’s voice, choked with emotion, drifted toward you.

“Billie, I need to talk to you,” she was saying. “Please, just… listen. I’ve been holding this in for so long, and I can’t anymore. I have feelings for you. I’ve always had feelings for you. I thought, maybe… one day, you’d see that I was the one who was supposed to be by your side. And now, seeing you with her, seeing you propose… I can’t take it anymore.”

There was a long, painful silence before Billie spoke, her voice low but resolute. “Lana… I’m sorry. I love you, but not in that way. You’re my friend, and you’ve always been special to me. But Y/N is the one I’m in love with. She’s the one I want to spend my life with.”

You couldn’t hold back any longer. You walked into the room, your heart pounding as Lana turned, startled to see you there. Her face flushed, and she looked away, clearly mortified. Billie’s eyes met yours, filled with concern and apology.

“Y/N,” Billie said softly, moving to your side. She took your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You know I’m with you. I’ll always be with you.”

Lana stammered, looking down at the floor, realizing the weight of what she’d just done. “I… I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I just… I thought maybe…”

You took a deep breath, trying to find words that would hold the peace but also express your hurt. “Lana, I understand this might be hard for you. But Billie chose me. We’re building a life together.”

Lana nodded, eyes downcast, her shoulders slumping. “I know. I’m sorry. I just… I’ll go.”

Without another word, she left the room, leaving you and Billie alone. Billie turned to you, her hands gentle on your face, her eyes filled with love. “You’re my everything, Y/N. No one could ever come between us.”

You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close, feeling the security and warmth in her embrace. In that moment, you knew that whatever challenges might come your way, Billie was yours—and you were hers.

[leth-writes]

Some thoughts about Tim and the Batfam

SUMMARY: just thinking about Tim and the batfam

WARNINGS: 18+ as always on my blog, though the work is safe for work. Typical yandere shenanigans. HEAVY discussion of drugging and taking away of autonomy.

MASTERLIST: https://www.tumblr.com/leth-writes/757800060720496640/requests-open?source=share 

Requests are open!

Tim is a really interesting person, in general. I’m just obsessed with the idea of him drugging a darling, just keeping them all pliant and sleepy and curled up in his bed, even if he’s platonic. 

He spends a lot of time just…watching you, whether that be through cameras or in real life.

You never find the cameras, even though you know they’re there. If you asked him, he wouldn’t deny it. Why would he? There’s nothing you could do about it, and he honestly doesn’t trust your opinions on your own safety. Tim views you as quite innocent and naive, and that’s part of why he spends so much time building a little cocoon in the bed for you to curl up in, your soft snuffles just barely moving the light sheet he’s laid around you.

Just. UGH. I think at first he’d drug your food.

But you start noticing, and you start avoiding food. This sets the rest of the batfam off; is TIm not taking care of you properly?!

(They sometimes talk about you like a pet. It’s weird. You’ve learned not to mention it.)

In response, you’re tied down with soft satin straps and drugged out of your mind through an IV. You’re on an all-liquid diet, practically seeing stars. Tim doesn’t need you conscious or coherent, just safe from harm, after all.

I could even see him putting you in a temporary coma, at least until the heat from your kidnapping dies down. 

I can’t get  over the idea of you just. Trusting him so much, so naively, and he’s just. Fucking drugging your hot chocolate to get you to the manor, he knows if he doesn’t then Jason will and Jason won’t be as gentle about it.

UGH just imagine him doing those exercises every day with you to keep your muscles from atrophying AGHHHH

You wake up afterwards, it’s dark and your mouth is dry. You try to sit up- and you can’t. You’re too weak, too tired from the still-present drugs coursing through your veins. It’s then you see a bright flash, illuminating the corner and it’s FUCKING TIM JUST STANDING THERE

He uses his best camera, just dedicates it to pictures of you, creates an album.

He shows it to everyone else, they’re all cooing and aweing and you’re just sitting there like HELLO PLEASE LET ME LEAVE 🙁

Eventually he might even give you a bit of a choice. You can eat the food, or you can get an injection. When you take the injection you lose an entire day of time, and who knows what the FUCK happened? (nothing, Tim just. Spent most of the day working, occasionally taking the time to brush a hand over your face, just gently tracing your features.)

The others start to get annoyed Tim’s hogging you, and he gets you a wheelchair. You’re too weak, too drugged to be able to move yourself around, and he somehow manages to put some sort of thing on the wheels that lock if you try to go out the door. Like the fucking Grocery Carts.

He starts wheeling you around, letting you see the garden and the birds and Batcow. You spend a lot of time in the library with Alfred the cat curled in your lap, purring as you try to follow the plot of a simple book, your eyes too blurry to see the words properly.

Jason’ll read to you, he likes the bonding time. Plus, your eyes can’t really focus on anyone’s face too long, so he doesn’t have to worry about you being scared by the scars ripped into his skin by his death.

Cass’ll roll you into her studio, prop you against the wall, and just do a stunning routine. Unfortunately you can’t see it very well, and you clap really slowly because your hands feel like they’re filled with lead. She appreciates the effort.

Dick eventually takes over your stretches, though he does sometimes have to fight Bruce for the right. Both love helping you gently stretch out your limbs, admiring the shaking that only comes from intense effort. You’re cute, like a newborn lamb.

It’s infuriating watching Dick do all these complicated moves, while you can barely lift your head, but oh well, they’re so happy you’re here!!

Damian treats you like a younger sibling, even though you’re significantly older than him. He adores having this position of power over you, and abuses it to spend most of his time with you just. Showing you his animals. Titus is practically your emotional support dog at this point, and he trains Ace to be your guard dog.

Bruce loves having you curled up in the office, snoring slightly on the couch, as he slowly wades his way through work. He’ll throw a blanket over you, even as you whimper and shy away from the food he’s hand-feeding you. You aren’t allowed to feed yourself anymore, hell you can barely lift your hand to your mouth.

You eventually get used to spending all your time just. Hanging around, sleeping and letting everyone else do everything for you.

[dr-doofus]

That’s so weird, I was pro life then my opinion changed because of this game. I can’t imagine raising a child on the Tuplar. Do you want her to suffer the pain of pregnancy and childbirth for the baby just to die!? Also she didn’t want the baby, she was R@PED! She didn’t drink the mouthwash because she didn’t want to die. Or maybe because she didn’t want Jimmath to take advantage of her while she was drunk! He could r@pe her again. He could kill her!

Also Curly wouldn’t be a good step father because he is completely dependent on others in his crippled state.

This applies in real life as well. Giving birth can be very dangerous. And sometimes it’s might not even be worth the pain.

I love this game because it made me think through this. Showed me a different view. Women who have had or are considering abortion are not evil. They are people who might be scared, backed into a corner, or just want their suffering to end.

This game opened my eyes and heart.

How (SOME) people in the mouthwashing fandom sound

[prettyboykatsuki]

fang do you think modern au sukuna would be a good bf ;(

in a dirtbag way if that makes sense 😭. he’s not bad i just think he just swings from commitment avoidant to borderline obsessive when you want to break off your thing with him. you spend a lot of time together though and he shows up for shit a lot even when he jokes that he won’t. yuuji kinda whips him into shape lowkey 💀 little brother privilege

someone asks at a party or smth if you’re dating and you flat out say no and he comes up besides you (mad. for some reason) like “the fuck we’re not,” as if you should’ve known the whole time. he likes puts an arm around you and tells whatever person is asking u out to shoo

and you’re like ????? and he’s like well were you gonna tell him you were single. and like maybe?! and he like. snorts and tells you ‘you wish’. so there’s that.

you can’t really stay away from each other and he’s wishy washy but he does treat you well and sort of functions on the expectations he is responsible for you (which will feel really weird sometimes. contradicts his words w his actions a lot). kind of keeps you on a leash in a weird way. he’s really into you though and loyal. he’s a deadbeat not a cheater.

the only time you see him really Really show off how possessive he is over you in reality is when gojo makes moves on and sukuna almost beats the shit out of him i think

[sapphirelightningbug]

Love, Actually [Chapter 1: Jingle Bells]

Series Summary: Christmas 2005, you and Aegon meet in a dog park in your hometown of Newark, New Jersey. He’s a strange foreigner who you’re hesitant about at first but he’s enamored by you. The only thing that can help you two is a Christmas miracle, and maybe a New Years kiss.

Taglist in the comments!

“Bandit one, ���Other Dog’ four,” Madison chimes in as you two gaze upon the dogs frolicking in the snow. They are barely visible as a white sheet of snow covers them. You had watched as they, just minutes ago made friends before beginning to play fight. It was commendable the way dogs bond so easily, only truly interested in the exhilarating.

You glimpse Madison as she overlooks what she has deemed a very serious match. It's almost wholesome the way she's able to appreciate such a mundane act as excitable in her head. She's rooting Bandit on when you hear a crunch in the snow. “Oh seven… and there goes Bandit,” she snorts as he face-plants into the snow. You giggle as you see the dog sneeze and shake off to get as much snow off himself as possible.

“You seriously can’t be keeping track of this,” you say while laughing. You whistle to call Bandit over, hand brushing over his damp, cold face to get any icy remnants off. He’d need a bath soon. Your gloved hand comes off with ice crystals that quickly melt against the temperature.

The night was arriving in the park, you and Madison had nearly gotten frostbite twice by the time you assumed it was smart to go home. When Bandit came trotting up to you in his magnificent glory, so had the other dog. So after tending to Bandit you look at Madison confused but observe the dog. This one wasn’t so fit for the cold, a bright golden shined in its fur despite the dull air and sky, and a small Christmas-themed bandana was wrapped around its neck.

“Uh, hey buddy,” you look down at the puppy and then turn to Madison as if to ask ‘What do I do with it?’. She lets up a little shrug, which wasn't helpful. You gaze through the rest of the park trying to find its owner, which came up pretty futile since it was 5 pm in the middle of December in fucking New Jersey! It was foggy and snowing which meant about ten feet of visibility. You clip the leash back on Bandit, and gesture for this other dog to follow, Madison behind you three as if she were herding you like sheep.

“Alright, let’s see if anyone’s looking for you,” you say as you pull the eclectic bunch through the park until you come face to face with a blonde-haired man. He looks a little frazzled and out of breath like he’s been running around in the crisp air of December. Honestly, he looks like he'd never expected it to be cold in the height of winter in the Northeast.

“Hi, sorry to bother you, but we’re trying to find this dog's owner. Is he yours, or have you seen anyone looking?” Before you could finish getting the words out he was on the snow-covered ground petting the ice out of the dog's fur. She realizes then why he looks drained: This is his dog.

He straightens out the golden retriever's bandana before looking over him once more and glancing up at you. “Thank you for supervising him Sunfyre likes getting himself into trouble sometimes.” Sunfyre? What kind of name is that? Nodding your eyes flick back at Madison, who was still staring at the man with a bit of a confused expression, slightly glazed over, like she couldn't tell he was actually there.

Finally, you turn to him and look over him. He is probably around their age, blonde, with slight stubble and severely underdressed for the weather. He realizes you are staring at him and he puts his hand out which you reluctantly take. The hand feels damp through your glove. “Aegon,” he smiles, Aegon? Again what kind of name is that? Apparently this guy has a tenacious appetite for odd names.

“Right, well I'm sorry if Sunfyre," the name feels weird in your mouth, "If Sunfyre had worried you. He and Bandit were just play fighting,” you gesture towards your dog. Bandit sits with a gaze that could only be considered admiration, dogs tend to do that to their owners it was one of the many things that made you fall in love with them. With his warm gaze on you, you rub his head with the hand Aegon wasn't shaking as you peer at the stranger and let go of his hand.

“Yeah, he’s a little rascal, basically a gremlin you know can’t feed them past midnight!” He was chipper much more than you’d expect, or the joke landed the wrong way you weren’t exactly sure. You assume his attitude is due to the excitement he felt over receiving his dog back. Snow fell over his beanie that he had on and you chuckled at the reference to a very beloved Christmas movie.

"We were just about to head out glad you got your dog back though,” you nod, looking down once more at the golden dog sniffing at its owner's feet. Aegon gazed over you as if copying your image to memory. It made you feel almost uncomfortable but it was subsided by the cute lopsided grip he had on his stubbled cheeks.

“Right maybe I can walk you two just out of thankfulness for you returning my dog,” you look back at Madison's eyes asking if they should when she interjected.

“Well I live just a little down the road so I have to go in a different direction,” Madison chirped always smiling, and feeling of a warm aura. You swallow realizing that you would have to walk alone with the man.

“Oh yeah, I have to walk to this coffee shop my other friend works at so she can drive me home I live a bit out of the way and I’ve got this guy,” you wring your hands together as you speak before gesturing to Bandit who was absentmindedly chewing on a stick he found Gods know where.

“I have no gripes walking you to the café,” he just would not give up would he? You mentally groan. “I mean I have nowhere to be really,” he smiled trying to seem normal about it. You hoped this wasn't a ploy, but how could it be really he couldn't have planned any of this. You were slowly becoming okay with the idea of him walking you to the café.

“Oh, okay, yeah, sure, we can go walk to the shop,” you turn to Madison and hug her before waving her off. “Get rest! Don’t want you getting a cold,” you yelled after her she smiled and gave you a thumbs up as she walked away.

You turn back to Aegon who is standing there admiring you, he looks away quickly. “You’re not gonna like serial murder me, right? Chop me up into little pieces and feed me to your weirdly named dog?” you chuckle nervously, not that you thought he would but you didn't know the man he could be Ted Bundy for all you knew.

He bursts into laughter, “No I’m not gonna chop you up into little pieces and feed you to my dog,” he chuckles. “Sunfyre is a very picky eater,” you laugh with him and begin to walk to the café as soon as Madison is out of eyesight. The snow’s still coming down in a drizzle and it crunches on the ground under you as you walk.

“Oh, so the only reason you’re not gonna kill me is because your dog is sassy with his meals?” You retort jokingly shaking your head. “I'm just kidding I get it Bandit gets a tummy ache when he eats most human foods too,” You run a thumb over the frayed bits of the rope that made Bandit's leash. When you looked up Aegon was staring at you. “What?” He looked away back down at Sunfyre before he clipped his red leash on him.

“So where is this coffee shop?” You glance back at him as you begin on the sidewalk, he's shivering slightly clearly cold from being in below-freezing temperatures underdressed for the weather.

“Just down the road there,” you point down from where you stand to a small shop that has a sign with a candy cane on it outside. There are very few others in sight; a couple walking on the sidewalk across the street, and one lone individual down the road walking in the opposite direction of them.

“So are you from New Jersey or did you move here recently?” You assume he hasn’t lived here for a while, less than a year probably. It was evident by his lack of a winter jacket or gloves. He was dressed in a pair of black sweatpants and a plain green sweatshirt. His blonde hair was mostly covered by a beanie. The tips of his fringe hung out slightly dampened by fallen snow.

“Not from here,” his slightly foreign accent only adds to the evidence of that fact. You look at him with a questioning look, “German," You nod. His fair skin is dull and dry, there are snowflakes in his eyelashes and his pink lips are chapped, dry skin peeling slightly.

“So what made you come to the great city of Newark?” Sarcasm drips from your lips. You gesture to the general area and look up at the snowy sky. Your nose is red from the cold, and it’s running faintly.

“Needed a change of scenery,” you look surprised. Most wanted out of Newark, not moving in for a 'change of scenery'.

"What'd you wanna see? Chihuahua sized rats frozen from winter snow?" A self-deprecating chuckle falls from your lips at the words before continuing. “But does your whole family live here or just you?” You almost feel bad for asking so many questions,—maybe even rambling—but he doesn’t seem to mind. He has a small smile on his face, more satisfied than anything, he just seems happy to be in someone else's presence.

“Well my sister, mother, and brothers live here with me, but my dad, his daughter, and their family still live in Germany,” you nod and scan over his face. Under the satisfaction of the moment, he looks tired. There were slight bags under his eyes their violet a little sad and his face pale, drained of color. Maybe it was just seasonal depression. Or maybe it was living in Newark?

"Thank goodness, and here I was thinking you were an only child," you both laugh a slight pink tone coming to his face; he shakes his head.

You’re feet away from the shop, the warm amber light flooding out on the cool-toned snowy street. The cottage windows are in a wooden frame, with frost in the outside corners. The wood is chipped a little from the years of it standing there.

Once getting a closer look at the sign it was visible that the painted candy cane was wrapped in mistletoe, the greens and reds contrasting each other perfectly. Next to the candy cane are the words 'Sips of the Season'.

Looking inside it was homely, a small library sits in the corner and the counter was decorated with tinsel and Christmas lights. A small pine tree sat in the corner drinking from a black pot underneath it. The tree was decorated with various colors, red, green, gold, and white ornaments adorn the branches catching on the needles.

Other than the ball ornaments there was a few personalized trinkets hanging off the tree. One from Greece, one from Italy, one from England, and one of your own that you had made for Jennifer, a small globe with a reindeer inside.

There was also gold and silver tinsel hanging from the tree. Multicolored lights garnish it as well, twinkling slightly. For short: Sips of the Season is decked out for the holidays.

A wreath wrapped in a scarlet bow welcomes you and Bandit at the door as you enter Sips of the Season, Aegon and Sunfyre following after you. Jen is at the counter back leaning against it, she turns around when she hears the bell. You take off your winter coat and gloves, and unclip Bandit’s leash. Bandit makes his way to an armchair in the corner of the store.

"There you are!" She beams, her ever-smiley face lights up with a warm contented grin. "You know I was just about to get out," it is then she notices that Aegon is in here with you. She has a small downturned smirk as she raises her eyebrows at you and gestures for you to approach her.

Aegon doesn’t realize your movements gazing around the shop and enjoying the warmth of it. You reach the counter and she looks at you with a predacious, toothy smile, the feeling she was going to say something ridiculous washing over you. "So who's the cute blonde?" She whispers, her shit-eating grin getting even bigger. Before you can get anything out she speaks once more, "And, when were you going to tell me you were dating again?"

"It's not like that," She rolls her eyes at your words.

"'Not like that'? Gosh, do you even hear yourself you're basically screaming that you want him! Plus you're like totally blushing," you are certain you are not but her saying that makes your face tinge pink ever so slightly.

"I am not," you mutter back. It was then that Aegon decides to nudge his way into the conversation when he finally moves from the spot he was standing looking around the room. "Oh, hey," you raise your eyebrows as if to ask 'What's Up?'.

"I'm going to go back to our den for the evening," he gestured to Sunfyre and himself, "But it was great to meet you." His voice is smooth like velvet, it makes your stomach tingle.

"Oh! Right," you look over at Jennifer trying to figure out what to do. "Do you want Hot Chocolate or Coffee or Tea?" you list off awkwardly trying to get as much out as possible. "On the house of course," you add quickly before turning to Jen and looking at her as though you were saying 'Sorry', she rolls her brown doe eyes.

"Hot Chocolate is good, to-go of course," you nod and look over to Jen and she starts making the Hot Cocoa. You and Aegon stand there awkwardly not really knowing what to say to each other.

Jen comes out with the warm drink in a festive red and white disposable to-go cup you hand it to Aegon and he thanks you. He guides Sunfyre back to the front door and the bell above it rings as you two wave each other off as a pit grows in your stomach.

"So did you like give him your number... or at least write it on the cup?" You shake your head and she looks at you like you’re hopeless.

"I fudged that didn't I?" You wring your hands together the sweat on them making them slip out of each other quickly.

"Definitely," she murmurs. At least she was honest, but that isn’t what’s on your mind there was only one word that is.

Fuck.

Comment if you'd like to be tagged!

[temporarywelcome]

Please? - Peter Maximoff

Word Count: 3.5k

REQUESTED!

The Ask: I humbly ask for a Peter Maximoff smut, I'm thinking y/n either a: distracts him while he is playing his arcade games, b: using whipped cream to give him a lil sweet treat while fucking, or c: literally any smut of this man, I need him. Preferably him being a little cocky/silly, but when you actually do anything he is a whimpering mess praising you. - @envy-of-greed

I give you... Option A.

WARNINGS: SMUT! oral (m recieve), handjob, mommy kink, praise, reader is a tease, reader is MEAN, sub!peter, dom!reader, Peter becomes a MESS, reader calls him "pup" and "puppy" like once, aftercare, alluding to punishment

A/N: gonna work on a Spencer Reid fluff/comedic fic next

_____

Peter was annoying as hell.

She loved him to bits, she would do absolutely anything for him, but she was allowed to admit her boyfriend was a complete terror?

Y/N was peacefully sitting in her room when her telephone had rang. Placing down her magazine, she reached for it, bringing it to her ear, “Hello?”

“Babeeee,”

What a surprise this was. Peter Maximoff, who usually would just show up unannounced with his super speed, decided to give her a phone call?

“Peter? What’s the occasion?” she asked with a smile, leaning back against her pillows, twirling the telephone’s wire in her newly manicured fingers. 

“Eh, I just remember you saying you like phone calls, the bonding or whatever. So i wanted to give you one.”

That made her heart melt. This little terror was sometimes a complete angel as well. “Yeah…” Y/N replied, “I love phone calls. Your voice sounds so nice on the phone, by the way,”

She could already picture him blushing. “I-It does? I mean, of course, yeah it does! I’m Peter freaking Maximoff, babe. Everything about me is top-tier,”

“You could work on your baking skills,” she mused, remembering literally every single time she would attempt to bake something with him. Flour everywhere. Remnants of cake or brownie batter on his face because he just had to eat some (a lot). Firealarm going off. Burnt baked goods. Every. Single. Time.

“Bitch! Every baking failure is your fault for always distracting me!” he whined in protest.

“How the hell do I distract you? I’m baking too!” 

“ ‘Cause you’re pretty,” Peter replied cheekily, and she knew he would have wiggled his eyebrows if she could see him, “How am I supposed to focus?”

“Stop making excuses for your terrible baking skills. Even if I wasn’t there, you would be a mess,”

“For different reasons,” Peter scoffed, “I can’t bake by myself, I need your guidance,”

“But you can’t bake with me either because you allegedly get distracted. Sounds like you just can’t bake,”

“Fuck off,” he grumbled, making her laugh, “Let’s get to more important business: when can I pick you up?”

“I wasn’t aware of being picked up at all,”

“Yeah well I’m picking you up. I wanna spend some time with you!” she could hear his excited tone that was so uniquely Peter. Everything about him was unique. Everything about him was different and weird and strange and she loved every part of him. 

“Well…” Y/N sighed, “I was going to start on some homework…”

“Boooo! College student booooo!”

“Shit, excuse me for wanting an education. Better than planning on living in my mom’s basement for the rest of my life,” she teased.

“Ouch. Fine. Can’t you do your homework later?”

“I’ve been procrastinating on it,” Y/N set down her magazine, getting off of the bed and walking to her desk, stretching her body as far as she could with the limits of the phone cord. Fingertips brushing against her notebook, she was able to grab it, nestling back into her bed and opening it, “Shit, it’s a lot.”

“Who cares? Finish it tomorrow!”

“It’s due in the morning.”

She could already tell he was pouting, she knew him so well. “Can’t you do it at my place?”

“You mean your mom’s place?” Y/N decided to keep teasing him. Peter was pretty much a loser, not really having any plans in life other than to lounge in his mom’s basement playing video games and eating twinkies for eternity. He thought he was a loser, Y/N’s parents thought he was a loser (which is why they don’t like him much), even Y/N thought he was a loser when they had first met. 

Yet here she was, smiling like an idiot while babbling on the telephone with said loser. Said loser who always gives her (stolen) gifts. Said loser who comes over at random points in the day just to say he loves her (superspeed is pretty handy). Said loser who named his Dungeons and Dragons character after her (however, he was such a loser, he didn’t have many people to play it with). Said loser who would scoff and pout whenever she would tease him about being her future house husband (well, what else would he be, if he just plays video games and dotes on her all day?) Her favorite loser. 

“Yes,” Peter deadpanned, “My mom’s place. Now may I come over so I can escort you to my mom’s place?”

She pretended to think about it, hearing his soft breathing on the other line as he waited for her to answer, “Fine. No distractions though!” 

“Yes, ma’am,”

Y/N opened her mouth to say something else, jumping when she heard a harsh knock on her window. Whipping her head towards the source of the noise, she rolled her eyes with a laugh. Peter, waving at her with his usual happy dorky expression. Placing the phone back down onto its receiver, Y/N rushed towards the window, opening it. “Babe!”

“Missed me?” he asked with a smirk, zipping into her room and right past her, making her roll her eyes again. He picked up her notebook, examining the pages, “Ew ew ew. What the hell are you studying again?”

“Psychology,” Y/N sat on the bed, slipping her sneakers on and tying them. 

“Boring,” he sped off in a blur to her desk, grabbing a pencil, and rushing back to her notebook. 

She didn’t even notice, focused on her sneakers, but when she raised her head and saw him drawing on her notebook, her facial expression soured, “Pietro Maximoff!” she snatched the notebook back, flicking his forehead. 

“Hey!” he gasped dramatically, “Ain’t no way you used my real name.”

“You misbehave to the point I have to like a mom,” Y/n replied dryly, going off to her closet to grab her bag. Brows furrowing, she dug around a bit, “Shit… Dunno where my bag went-”

“Ahem,”

Y/N didn’t even have to turn to know what that meant. But she did, and, not to her surprise, Peter was holding her bag with a smirk on his face. 

“Asshole,” she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. She knew him well. If she attempted to grab the bag, he would just zoom off somewhere else to tease her. 

“Aren’t you going to get it?” he asked with faux innocence, holding it out to her. 

“Fuck that, I know what you’re planning,” Y/N shook her head, raising her brow at him expectantly, “Drop the bag,”

“Um, am I a dog?” He placed a hand to his chest, jaw dropping like the drama king he was. He should have been in theatre when he was in school. 

“Do I have to treat you like one?” Y/N threatened boldly, “Come on, pup, drop the bag,”

Peter’s eyes widened and he dropped the bag, “You did not just say that,” 

“Well, it worked,” Y/N smirked, grabbing her bag and planting a kiss on his cheek, “Good boy,” She began throwing her supplies for her homework into her bag, unaware of the growing dent in his pants. 

“Bitch,” he mumbled to himself, too quiet for her to hear. 

“Alright, I’m ready to go,” she announced, slinging her bag over her shoulder. He just stood there, eyes glazed over. “Earth to Peter?” she snapped her fingers in his face twice before he blinked, coming back down to society. 

“Okayletsgetoutofhere,” he word vomited, grabbing her waist (with one hand on her neck, of course! Gotta prevent that whiplash!), and within seconds, they were in his room (the basement). 

“Shit, am I ever gonna get used to that?” Y/N laughed, flopping onto his unmade bed in dizziness. Before she could react, Peter dived in on top of her, making her let out a pained, “Oof!” and a “Peter!”

A childish giggle left him, arms going around her waist as he nuzzled into her neck, “Hm?”

“Can’t breathe,”

“Are you calling me fat?”

“I apologize, my dainty little princess,” she deadpanned, arms going around him too. Yes, he was crushing her, but she honestly didn’t care, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. She then felt something on her thigh. Felt like something was poking-

Oh.

Oh.

She smirked, but didn’t say anything about what she just realized, casually stroking his hair, “My pretty puppy,”

He gasped, immediately dashing off. Poor thing was flustered, playing one of his (stolen) arcade games, back turned to her. 

“What’s wrong?” Y/N immediately got to teasing him, “I thought we were cuddling?”

“Wanna game,” he replied simply, and his ears went red. Cutie pie. 

“You wanna game? But I thought you wanted to spend time with me?” she laughed.

“You said you wanted to do your homework,” 

“True true…” she opened up her notebook, glancing at his squirming figure, “You dancin’, love?”

“No, I’m not dancing,” was all he said. There were plenty of times he didn’t catch onto her teasing, which was always adorable. This seemed to be one of them.

“Then why are you moving like that?” 

“Like what?” Now he was playing dumb. He groaned as he died in the game, restarting it.

She slid off of the bed, walking to him and wrapping her arms around his waist from behind. Resting her chin on his shoulder, she said, “You’re acting funny, darling,” she pressed a kiss to the side of his neck, feeling him tense under her touch.

“N-No, I’m not,”

“Oh, really?” One hand reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear before planting a kiss there, “You’ve been acting funny ever since I called you a good boy,” His breath hitched, making her smirk, “I didn’t know calling you that would have such an effect on you, baby. Maybe it’s because you’re so bratty, you don’t hear that often, huh?”

“Stoooop,” he whined, losing in his game again, “You made me lose,” Peter pouted. 

“Hm,” she let her hands drop lower, fiddling with the button of his pants absentmindedly, “You must be slacking, Peter! You should be able to game under any condition, right?”

“But-”

“Nuhuh,” she pressed a finger to his plush lips, “No ‘but’s from you. We gotta practice your concentration skills, my love. They’re lacking,” she unbuttoned his jeans, making him gasp. His hands were gripping the game’s controls tightly, however they were unmoving as she palmed him through his boxers. “Hey,” she roughly squeezed his length, making him squeak cutely. “Did I say you could stop? C’mon, time to practice.” 

“S-Sorry, Y/N,” he stuttered out, hitting restart again. She squeezed his cock through his boxers again, earning a whine from him. 

“Now what do you call me when I play with you?” Y/N asked tauntingly, running a single finger over his clothed length. Up and down. Up and down. Up and-

“Mommy,” he bit his bottom lip to keep himself from moaning. 

“That’s right, darling, I’m Mommy,” She stepped away, confusing him, until she got down on the floor, crawling right between him and the game. “Mommy’s going to take care of your pretty cock now, okay?” Her hands trailed towards the belt loops of his jeans as she spoke, “You are not allowed to stop playing your game. Each in-game death is two spanks. You’re not allowed to cum till you clear three levels, understood?”

Peter’s cheeks flared up and he nodded excitedly, “Yes, Mommy,” 

“Good boy,” she purred, pulling down his pants and letting them pool at his ankles. Fingers dipping into the waistband of his boxers, she cooed, already noticing a small wet patch, “So excited, huh?” she pulled down his boxers, letting them join his pants on the floor. Y/N stuck out her index finger, letting it run along his cock like before. Up and down. Up and down. Up and-

“-Mommy,” Peter whined, “Stop teasing me, please,”

“Oh? The bratty boy is using his manners?” she cooed, wrapping her fingers around his thick length and slooooowly stroking him, “Remember the rules and everything will feel amazing, yeah?”

He nodded, sucking in a breath, “Y-Yeah,” Peter tried to focus on his game, he really did, trying his best to get his character past the villainous NPCs. But as soon as Y/N began to stroke faster, he whimpered, his character being slain. 

“Oh?” Y/N smirked, pausing her movements and making him whine more, “Already lost? That’s two spanks, darling,”

“Sorry, Mommy…” He mumbled in embarrassment, restarting the game, “I won't do it again- fuck,” She started stroking him again, the delicious feeling going straight to his pretty little head. Any sort of sexual intimacy would immediately make his brain short-circuit, causing him to be complete putty in her hands.

“I know you won’t do it again, Peter, because you’re a good boy, right?” Y/N’s lips curled into a little smile, leaning forward to press a kiss to his tip, continuing to stroke him. “You’re my good boy?”

“Mhm,” he nodded, bottom lip between his teeth as he attempted his game again, his avatar jumping through obstacles and avoiding approaching enemies, “I’m y-your good boy- ughhh,” she wrapped her pretty lips around his tip, teasingly sucking on it. He bit his bottom lip again, hard enough to draw blood. 

Peter couldn’t help it, he took a glance down at Y/N, mouth going dry seeing her sucking on his tip, stroking him in a steady rhythm with her own eyes looking dead at his. His eyes widened seeing her take him deeper into her mouth, eyes not leaving his for even a second.

Game over.

He looked up at the screen of his game, realizing his character died again. Fuck. 

Y/N pulled her mouth off of his dick with a pop, making him whimper, “Two more spanks, darling. That’s four now.”

This was going to suck. This was going to suck in the best way possible. 

“Didn’t you say you were going to be a good boy?” Y/N asked, pouting exageratively, “I remember you saying you were going to be a good boy,”

“I am your good boy!” Peter huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Y/N laughed, pressing a kiss to his thigh, “You’re so cute, baby. Now, c’mon, start the game again. You’ll never get to cum at this rate.”

Poor thing panics, starting the game up again. He began spamming the buttons desperately, wanting to clear those three levels so Y/N would allow him to cum. Overstimulation was hot as hell, but edging was terrible (which is why that was her usual punishment for him).  

Her lips were on him again, sucking hard, and poor guy was seeing fucking stars trying to focus on this damn fucking game. He was a good gamer, these levels should be easy to clear, but when Mommy is sucking his cock how is he able to focus on such a thing? He would rather abandon the game and fuck her like a bitch in heat, which is certainly what he felt like at that moment. 

It was torture. Spamming buttons desperately, not beating the level, the threat of edging and spanking in the air. He was going crazy.

“Thats ten spanks now, baby,” Y/N said after another failed level, “I thought you were good at games,”

“I-I am!” He exclaimed, “It's hard to fucking focus when you're sucking the soul out of me!” A pout formed on his pretty lips, brows furrowed as he attempted to play the level again. 

“Watch your tone, Peter,” Y/N glared at him, making him feel emotional. Whenever he was in a vulnerable place like this, it's embarrassingly easy for him to burst into tears. Especially because during any form of intimacy he was baby or darling or something cute, never Peter. Why would she call him by his name? Was he being bad?

“Sorry, Mama,” he mumbled.

Y/N couldn't help but smile softly, being reminded once again how much she adored him. Her pretty boy. Her favorite loser. Being called her titles by him always made her weak at the knees. “I know, baby,” she was a soft domme at heart, she can't be mad at him. Ever. He was her baby and he deserved the whole world. “Let's try this again, okay?”

She waited for him to nod before taking him into her mouth again. His pretty tip was red and hot in her mouth, dribbling pre-cum on her tongue as she swirled the muscle along. 

He finally beat the first level, moving on to the next excitedly. He was getting somewhere now! Soon he'll be allowed to cum and maybe Y/N will let him inside…

Yes, he really wanted to be inside her. 

Y/N began taking him deeper into her mouth, and fuck he felt his tip nudge the back of her throat so perfectly he wanted to cum. So bad. But he won't because he's a good boy and he's not going to cum until he's allowed to. 

That was the plan, at least.

But his name was Quicksilver for a reason and he could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge. His left hand was gripping the joystick painfully hard, knuckles white as he moved it around in an attempt to get his character across the map to the next level. 

He finally made it to the third level, sighing in relief. He was getting somewhere. Almost to the end. She was bobbing her head up and down, one hand gently rubbing his tender balls, bringing him closer and closer to release. 

“AhI’msoclosethatfeelssogoodthankyouthankyouI’msoclose” he babbled out, speaking practically a mile a minute. A wide grin appeared on his face once he cleared the third level, “IdiditcanIcomenowpleasecanIcumnow-”

She pulled off of his dick again, making him groan in both desperation and annoyance, “You cleared the level? Good job, sweetie. I guess I can let you cum now…” They both stared at each other, Peter panting and his chest rising with each labored breath, Y/N batting her eyelashes at him meanly, continuing to tease him. He was ready to just start fucking her face and go wild, but he told himself he was going to behave.

So he’s going to behave. 

Ugh, but why does she have to make it so hard? 

“Can you keep going?” he finally asked.

“Should I, though?”

“You… You promised!” he gasped, eyes widening in panic.

“Hmmm, I don’t remember promising anything,” she replied, trailing her finger along his shaft like she always did when she wanted to fucking tease him. Up and down up and down up and down-

“Please?” Was she really going to make him beg? She knew he hated begging, which is probably why she enjoyed making him do that so much. 

All she did was hum, continuing with that aggravating motion of her finger, fucking asshole. 

“Please, Mommy?” he grumbled, hands balling into fists at his sides to keep him from going crazy. Think with your head and not your dick, Peter.

Y/N gave him another mean smirk, “That’s my boy…” she went straight back to sucking him off, and he was back to being a fucking mess. 

“ThatfeelssogoodyoualwaysdosogoodfuckI’mgoingtocumcanIcumpleasepleaseplease-”

She nodded, not stopping her sucking motion for even a second. However, his eyes were screwed shut so he didn’t even notice, continuing to beg to cum till she released his dick from her mouth and said, “You can cum, baby,” with a little laugh before going right back to work. 

And within two seconds of being back inside her mouth, he was cumming hard, hands going to her hair for something to keep him grounded. When she pulled away from his cock once again, she swallowed without a second thought, rubbing his thigh soothingly, “You still there, baby?”

“Mhm,” Peter was a known chatterbox, everybody knew this. But every time after cumming, his desire to speak would vanish, the need to just be held and taken care of overpowering all else. 

So Y/N stood up, taking his hand, “Let’s lay down, yeah?” She knew Peter could not last long, however, he could bounce back extremely fast. Just some cuddles will do, and he’ll be back to either a) yapping her ear off, or b) being hard as a rock. Or both. Who knows? 

She laid down on his (unmade) bed, pulling him down beside her, “You need anything, baby?” He simply shrugged, arms going around her waist and resting his head on her shoulder, “Water?” He shook his head. “Snack?” Fast nod. Of course. “Alright,” she went to sit up, but he immediately tightened his grip on her. “Didn’t you want a snack?” she laughed.

He thought for a moment before hesitantly releasing her from his hold, allowing her to get up and go to his practical tower of Hostess treats, grabbing a box of Twinkies. His favorite. Sitting back down, she opened up the box, unwrapping a cakey treat while he leaned against her again. 

“Here you go,” she said softly, letting Peter pluck the dessert from her hand and eat it. It was silent as he ate, her hand going to his hair to gently stroke the silver strands. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled after he finished, looking up at her with a cute smile, “You always know just what I need,” he nuzzled his nose into her neck, inhaling her scent. “Love you,”

“Love you too, baby,” she kissed his head, sighing peacefully, “So… about that punishment…”

[rawbin-hsr]

Hi! Could i request Feixiao, Boothill, and Argenti with a s/o who has panic disorder (or panic attacks in general). Just generally how they react and such :)

@dragon-anon

A/N: Surprisingly I found this a little difficult IUESJhief I have a lot of experience with. having anxiety when I was younger. I think I was even diagnosed with it at some point ? Which is weird because I’m not diagnosed any longer and I no longer really get anxiety attacks so idk what the fuck that was erm. Anyways that’s beside the point. I really struggled to make Feixiao and Argenti different because I think they would handle it similarly (hence why Argenti’s part ended up so much shorter than the other two, cause I didn’t want to just. Repeat Feixiao’s whole part.) and I’m a little worried Boothill is ooc because I haven’t done the new quest and it seems like it showed a lot of his backstory so forgive me if I’m not up to date on that. Sorry about rambling I’ll get on with it now help

Reader has an anxiety disorder

Characters: Feixiao, Boothill, Argenti

Cw: anxiety/panic attacks (descriptions kept brief, not very detailed), slight mention of self-harm inflicting behaviours in Argenti's part (only reader unintentionally scratching themself, not necessarily done out of a desire to harm oneself).

Lmk if there's anything else I should add !

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╭──────────.★..─╮ Feixiao ╰─..★.──────────╯

Oh she’s great 

Amazing at picking up your signals, amazing at assessing what course of action would help you most, amazing at following through with it

She can tell what sets you off, even without you telling her, and she has a lot of firsthand experience with handling other people’s anxiety (both from more intimate relationships and from soldiers she doesn’t exactly know on any personal level). It’s not hard for her to figure out what calms you down most quickly. 

Your episodes have never been shorter than they are with her around 🙏🙏

I’m not sure exactly how I imagine her handling it, because I think it switches a lot depending on what she knows about you. If she knows you find physical touch comforting, she’ll hold you and gently talk you down. If you’re the type who doesn’t need much reassurance, she’ll firmly remind you of where you are, that she’s with you, that you’re safe, etc, etc. She’ll find whatever solution works best for you. 

Apart from being great with damage control if you do have a panic attack, she’s also pretty good at preventing them from happening in the first place. 

If she recognises you’re stepping into an environment you’re likely to have an attack in, she’ll either steer you out of it if she can or she’ll make sure you’re in there for as little time as possible. Like, for example, if you’re bad with large crowds, she’ll usually just find a less packed road to take around the mass of people.

Obviously it’s unavoidable sometimes, and she won’t always be able to adhere to you completely because she does have a very important job that she can’t really put on hold for your sake, but like I said, she’s great at handling it then too. 

If something needs to be done but you can’t do it, she’ll do it for you (after gently trying to encourage you to face your fears and do it yourself �� but she does quickly relent if she notices you really, really don’t want to)

10/10 would recommend she’s amazing

╭──────────.★..─╮ Boothill ╰─..★.──────────╯

I feel like Boothill would be absolutely dogwater at preventing any anxiety attacks from happening, but he’d be great at stopping them once they do happen

Like obviously he won’t trigger you on purpose but he won’t tiptoe around the things that put you off either. Both because he doesn’t usually have much choice in the matter considering his line of work, and because he believes in exposure therapy. And because he maybe sort of kind of forgets. 😭

But he’d be great while you’re in the middle of an anxiety attack ! So that counts for something !!!!

He always manages to snap you out of it pretty quickly. Takes you out of the situation once he recognises the signs that the attack is coming, then gets you present in the current moment again. How ? That’s very simple. He confuses the fuck out of you

You know that tip about making someone having an anxiety attack bite into a lemon ? Yeah

(If you haven’t heard about it: a way to snap someone out of a panic/anxiety attack can be to make them lick a really sour lemon without any warning. The sensory input is really overwhelming and the person having the episode might be so shocked by it they kind of just snap out of it because who the fuck makes you taste a lemon when you’re at your lowest like that ???)

You’re curled up in a ball, hyperventilating because there are too many people, too many sounds, too many what-have-you ? Not anymore, now you’re too busy being confused and lowkey angry at him for shoving an ice cube down your throat. Like wtf are you doing my guy

Usually his little stunts do the trick to get you out of that headspace, and then he can just verbally talk you down so you’re nice and calm again. Will let you cool off while he solves whatever issue it was that led to your anxiety attack. Don’t worry about it anymore, he’s got this. 

If he can’t confuse you out of it, though, he’ll just do whatever you’ve instructed him to do while lucid. If it’s hugging you and talking gently until you’re calm, he can do that. If it’s to just take you into a quiet space and let you ride it out, no problem. If it’s to just continue on and let you just stand next to him, sure. 

Only thing he won’t do is to avoid your triggers altogether. He can give you a heads-up when possible, he can let you sit it out if you really need to, but he won’t (in his words) “baby you”. In his opinion, you’ll never get over it if you just avoid it forever. 

He says it in a kind of harsh way, but there’s genuine care in his tone and his expression, so you know he doesn’t mean it like that. 

All in all I think Boothill is really great if you’re the resilient type and you have the kind of anxiety that can actually get better through treatment, but if you’re sensitive and need someone who actively helps you avoid your triggers I definitely wouldn’t recommend him 😭

╭──────────.★..─╮ Argenti ╰─..★.──────────╯

Obviously amazing at handling it is there anything he’s not good at ? 🙄 (/j)

He immediately becomes very serious when he realises your control is slipping, falls silent and looks at you worriedly. He recognises surprisingly quickly what’s happening, and steps into your field of view and crouches down, makes sure you can see his face. Takes both of your hands in his, wishes he didn’t have armour so he could let you feel his heartbeat.

He calmly talks you out of it. He sounds so sure of everything he does, to a point where you’ll question afterwards if he has firsthand experience with this. 

(He does. He used to experience a lot of anxiety and panic attacks as a child, it is only natural when you grow up surrounded by war; you’d never guess just looking at him now, though.)

He’ll obviously switch how he handles your panic attacks if you ask him to, but his default is to hold your hands (both to prevent you from accidentally scratching yourself, and to remind you he’s there) and to softly reassure you

I think he becomes sort of hyper aware of what triggers you, and does as much as he can to avoid it. Lowkey starts to baby you a little, but just a little, and even if it’s annoying it’s done with love, done out of a desire for you to be happy. It does put him in some tough spots though, considering it means he sometimes tells you to sit an adventure out, but the plan was for it to have the both of you and it’s harder to handle a lot of things alone 😭

Overall super good though I love him <3

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My inbox is open, feel free to send in asks or requests, I'd love to ramble about things <3

[who-is-page]

Wag Those Tail Feathers: The Wonders of Alterhuman Courtship

Author: Page Type: Essay Words: 1,065 Summary: Page's perspective on alterhuman courtship, as an individual who has been both on the receiving and giving ends of it.

[Part of the Sol System’s Alterhuman Writing Project for 2024. If you don’t want to see these posts, block the tag #inkedclaws]

As a polyamorous alterhuman, I’ve had the wonderful experience of being in relationships with people who have a variety of different courtship instincts— sometimes even all at the same time! Including my own instincts, it’s led up to some interesting realizations about the variety and diversity of expressions of love, and how wonderful it can be to be loved by an alterhuman (and to be an alterhuman in love, too).

My personal experiences, notably, revolve specifically around being nonhuman and this applies to a majority of my partners as well, which influences the flavor of this discussion. It’s been a wonder to be the target of a feathery mating dance, to be wooed with draconic jewelry and treasures, or to have my partner jump out with a meal, as proud as could be at displaying their hunting skills for a mate. It’s not necessarily just a nonhuman thing, either, of course; my orthohuman partner exhibits some similar sort of feelings and actions, too! Something which comes across especially strong in his hunt-and-gather supply-hoarding behavior in video games. But there’s something so especially intimate about having your alterhuman partner court you in a way unique to their species identity. It’s a beyond flattering form of trust, love, and affection.

And as an alterhuman who has targeted my partners, alterhuman and orthohuman alike, with my own affections, it’s also uniquely affirming to have your partners engage with your varieties of courtship for your species. There’s something incredibly special to have them try to learn your rituals and woo you in turn, even if they don’t have the same instincts driving them. It’s love with intention, a conscious effort to learn a language that’s typically foreign to them or which they might otherwise never come across on such a personal level. It may not always be perfectly executed, but the intentions behind them make them perfect regardless.

I’m someone who’s fully public about my alterhumanity. I don’t hide that I’m a dog and (luckily) no one especially seems to care in the day-to-day when I’m meeting up with strangers and acquantinces. But it’s become an important part of my dating life that potential partners need to not only be aware of my alterhumanity and accept it, but they also need to interact with it. You could argue that my spouse set the bar high for any potential future partners with how he took to my canine-ness and plurality like a fish to water, but I’m of the opinion that it’s something that should be the norm, not something so utterly unexpected by many.

Being able to engage in alterhuman courtship with your partner, as serious or as silly as it may fundamentally end up being, shouldn’t be something that you feel is utterly unreachable, that you yearn for but never feel like you’ll be able to reach. Alterhuman courtship is a wonderous experience; something that I think it’s not only important for alterhuman folks to be able to freely do with those they love most, but also to be on the receiving end of, too. It can be easy to default to the status quo in relationships, because of the societal pressure around us. Normativity around romance, sex, and even platonic affections is something that is constantly at play in the backgrounds of our culture and which embeds itself into our conciousnesses in unexpected and often invisible ways; and it’s difficult to dissect these without exposing ourselves to what some might list as “weird” or “unusual” urges and behaviors. But we can’t unpack the shame or embarrassment that might be holding us back from engaging with these urges unless we actually let ourselves acknowledge the collective, confusing feelings abound within them. We shouldn’t allow ourselves to shrug our shoulders and simply say, “I suppose I’ll never find someone who can accept me as my [species] and all that entails,” or to just resign ourselves to having to hide a part of ourselves away forever to maintain relationships.

We should toss these types of negative feelings aside and embrace our alterhuman courtship urges in earnest: that sometimes we’re not fully human, or we’re human a little to the right, and that inevitably makes romance, sex, and platonic interactions a little different for us than it might look for standard folks as displayed on a big screen. It’s not a failure on our part, and it’s not something that needs to be squirreled away due to internalized respectability politics. We can love ourselves and find love in others, for and by being ourselves. We can experience unique forms of love and adore those factors in others. This is, to me, a part of the territory that comes with being alterhuman or knowing alterhumans. It’s a part of what makes life wonderous.

In my partnerships, I love getting to bring my partners gifts. I love to bring them tiny treasures, small things from my system’s hoard, to pebble at them almost like a penguin would (sometimes including a silly little dance, of love!) It goes beyond standard gift-giving in the way that most of the people I’ve met would think of it, where presents that large are often reserved for special occasions like holidays and birthday. But it’s something I do year-round, to show my partners that they’re always on my mind, and that what is mine is their’s, too. I do the same thing with food; while normally incredibly food protective, both due to species identity and past food insecurities, I make the effort to share my favorite foods with my partners for the same fundamental reasons. To share my food, my bed, my life— and to have my partners recognize that as not just general displays of love, but as specifically displays of love intertwined with what I am, is something which displays a deep level of understanding and acceptance for my species. It’s something I’m grateful for beyond words, but it’s also something that I don’t want us as a community to accept as unheard of, or as just a one-off, lucky occurrence. Love like this is achievable and rewarding, both as a recipient of such alterhuman affections and as the giver. And we all deserve to experience it, in whatever form of love that we feel most comfortable with. Don’t tell yourself otherwise; don’t settle for less just because you feel like you have no other choice.

[matcha-milkies]

LIKE AN OLEANDER

Summary: Bill Cipher needs a footstool and a thoroughly Stockholmed Ford is happy to oblige.

Relationships: Bill Cipher & Ford Pines, Pyronica is there too

Content Warnings: Abuse, Master/Pet, Psychological Torture/Horror/Trauma, Stockholm Syndrome, Victim Blaming, Sensory Deprivation

Tags: Triangle Bill, Canon Divergence - Weirdmageddon, Bill Cipher Wins, Collars, Chains, Whump, Hurt No Comfort, Bill Cipher is a Jerk

Word Count: 1,306

Link to AO3: Here

A/N: Based on @jellyskink’s immaculate Domesticated Ford AU, in which Bill mentally breaks Ford in the 1980s and brainwashes him into an obedient and fawning pet. Weirdmageddon started early, and over time the weirdness bubble surrounding Gravity Falls naturally expanded to contain both California and Oregon. If you want to learn more, there’s a lot more tidbits on their blog, though fair warning it’s a pretty dark and sad AU.

Thank you, jellyskink, for giving me the green light to write a fic for this!

I saw someone say this au is “all pain, no sex” which is really at the heart of what I look for in fics, but is so painstakingly absent in most fandoms, so this is a godsend •⩊•

If you haven’t listened to “Oleander” by Mother Mother what are you even doing with your life /lh

Bill Cipher is in a particularly good mood today. He and Pyronica probably broke a record for largest bonfire in California, even counting all their previous antics over the years. Not the dream demon’s most creative endeavor by a long shot, but hey, sometimes you just gotta start a blazing inferno to let off some steam. Nothing wrong with a bit of simple, straightforward arson now and then.

It’s only when he returns to the Fearamid, practically glowing, buzzing and high off the screams of the innocent, that he remembers the state he left Sixer in.

The man is in a kneeling position, collared by the neck. His hair, fluffy and disheveled, feathers down to around his shoulders, brushing against the cruel blue metal. His twelve fingers twitch and grasp at nothing, futilely, as though groping for purchase on a rugged cliffside. His purple sweater is rumpled in places, like he had pulled and grabbed at that too, to no evident avail. He’s whimpering to himself, words that are at first indiscernible as Bill enters the massive chamber.

The scientist is tethered to a ring near the base of the Throne of Frozen Human Agony, staring vacantly into the middle space, unseeing. It’s not his fault. Bill severed all input from his optic nerves, so he literally can’t see. Or hear. Or feel. Yeah, he cut off those nerves too. It was supposed to be a punishment that lasted a few hours. And then Bill had left and gotten carried away with his fun, and well, it had been an entire day.

Whoops.

Make no mistake, he doesn’t feel bad about it. If anything, it’s kind of funny, like forgetting to feed your dog! Wait. Humans don’t find that funny. Well, who can expect them to understand the emotions of an all-powerful chaos god? He draws closer, and the previously indiscernible words sharpen into clarity.

“I love you, my muse. I love you.”

Repeated ad nauseam to the uncaring void.

“Aww,” Bill clasps his hands together and brings them closer to his eye. “He’s so pathetic!” Pyronica, who came in with him, nods her agreement and laughs along. This must be what it’s like to catch your puppy mid-dream, its little tongue lolling and leg kicking at nothing.

He can’t remember whether he instructed his pet to repeat those words or not. Honestly, it’s anyone’s guess. Bill’s will and Ford’s are so inextricable at this point that Ford often does things without needing to be told. Of course, they’re not entirely on the same wavelength, or else punishment wouldn’t be required in the first place.

“Eh, remind me to snap him out of it in another half an hour,” Bill says, settling himself on the throne. With a wave of an arm he summons a martini glass. “I’m gonna have myself a drink.”

“Sure thing, boss.” He summons a glass for her too, and hipshot, she accepts. “Hey, you think we should’ve put the fire out before we left?”

They both share a hearty chuckle over that. “Would be a shame if it all burned down!” Bill sighs as the laughter dies down. “Nah, but seriously. California will still be there for us to play with tomorrow. And if it isn’t, we can always just rebuild it! In my image! Ha!”

“Yeah. Technically the fires are my image though.”

“Touché!”

They talk for a while, maybe 20 minutes or so in this fashion, casually sipping time punch and discussing unnatural disasters like they’re music festivals. Ford goes completely untouched and unnoticed, until suddenly Bill returns his attention to the human, and a light bulb goes off next to his hat.

“Wait. Do you wanna see something hysterical? I have the best idea.”

Every sensation returns to Ford at once in a flood of color, touch and sound. Sometimes, when Bill is feeling merciful, he eases him back into it, but his merciful moods are few and far between. More commonly, he likes to toss the scientist in the deep end and watch him flounder, tears quickly beading at the corners of Ford’s eyes and spilling fatly over his cheeks. His body convulses in a singular, broken sob, and before he can finish another apologetic, “I love you,” Bill hits him with a hard command.

“Stanford! I need a footstool!” The demon extends his legs and wiggles his feet a little. He whistles as though beckoning a dog. “Come ‘ere!”

Despite his disorientation, Ford rushes to obey, lurching in the direction of Bill’s voice and falling flat on his face. Shakenly, he picks himself off the ground, letting loose a singular groan.

“I’m still waiting!” Bill sings, swinging his legs a little for effect. Pyronica snickers. Ford tries again, following the sound of his muse’s voice, although he is quickly dismayed to find that he’s already reached the end of his chain. He falls just short of Bill’s feet, and no matter how he chokes himself, no matter how hard he tugs at the collar or the chain attached, he can’t go any further than this. His distress is evident in the way he keens.

“What are you doing?” Bill demands, rolling his eye. “All I asked for was a simple footstool and you can’t even do that? Bad! Bad dog!” Ford sobs.

“I-I’m sorry, my muse!” he rasps, the cold metal of the collar pressing in on his windpipe as he strains to obey. “I’m so sorry!”

Pyronica is practically in stitches at this point, and Bill is a showman, a class clown ever chasing the next laugh. “Are you really though?” His eye wanes to an amused crescent. “Do you even love me, if you can’t even follow a command as simple as this?”

“Yes!” Ford insists with a cry. “Yes, my muse, I love you! I’m sorry that I’m so useless… Please, please forgive me…”

“Why should I? Do you think you deserve forgiveness?”

“N- No,” Ford sniffs, “but—”

“Alright, alright. Since I’m in such a good mood, I’ll give you a hand.” Bill waves his hand in a circle and the chain elongates, allowing just enough slack for Ford to crawl under his waiting feet. Bill settles them heavily on top of Ford’s back and sighs. “Ahh, that’s better.” The man shakes under the weight.

“Thank you, my muse,” he says. Normally, he would be a lot happier about serving Bill like this, but he’s clearly still torn up over his recent punishment and failures. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t mention it, kid!” Bill rests his hands behind his ‘head,’ or rather, the tip of his topmost vertex. “Maybe after this, if you’re good, you can have a treat.”

“R- Really? Oh, thank you so much, my muse. I promise I’ll be good.” His voice is still wavery from the earlier-shed tears, but his cheer seems to be returning. It’s not difficult to keep the man happy when he’s so thoroughly and hopelessly smitten with his muse. Bill could have Pyronica drop-kick Ford off the top of the Fearamid right now and when he reached the bottom he would find a way to smile and thank Bill, no matter how many broken pieces he was in.

“Yeah. Now shut up while I get some reading in. Hasn’t anyone ever told you footstools don’t talk? Sheesh.” With a sigh, Bill summons an extradimensional magazine and floats it in front of his eye, every so often flipping through the pages. Pyronica says she’s off to see what Teeth and Keyhole are up to, and Bill acknowledges her departure with a little grunt and wave. Ford stifles a whimper. His back has already been giving him issues lately, and this definitely isn’t helping matters, but he soldiers through it for his muse. He’s determined not to mess up again. He’s determined to be a good footstool.

A/N: This is my first time writing from Bill’s perspective! I don’t usually write him this cruel, so it was a fun change of pace to lean full force into that side of him. Thanks again, jellyskink, I hope you liked this little installment!

[fortnightdjo]

Steddie 😈

Steve sucks his thumb to focus or to calm down and self regulate

Steve is walking back and forth in his room and he sucks on his thumb he knows it’ll mess up his teeth but he can’t help it. Eddie is supposed to come over sometime soon, and Steve is worrying about it because he had Eddie come over so he confess to him, but he got so distracted by his worrying and thumb sucking that he did realize what time it was, the front door downstairs unlocks and opens (he gave Eddie a spare key), Steve doesn’t realize it tho.

“Harrington~!” Eddie calls out in a sing song tone, the stairs creak as he comes up the stairs, Steve’s door is cracked open just enough to where Eddie can see Steve sucking his thumb and pacing around, Eddie finds it adorable. Eddie opens the door slowly, he clears his throat. Steve turns around and quickly takes his thumb out of his mouth.

“Ed! Heyy…” Steve says nervously

“Stevie. What are you doing?” Eddie smirks

“Nothing. Just waiting for you.” He wipes off his thumb on his pants

“You suck your thumb?” Eddie says in a knowing tone

“No! No I don’t” Steve quickly answers he doesn’t want Eddie to think he’s weirds or abnormal, even tho Eddie himself is weird and abnormal.

“Steve. Stevie. Steven. You’re fine.” Eddie walks closer to him

“…it’s weird I know. Just forget you saw that, please”

“Oh come on Harrington! Look at me, you seriously think I care that you do something weird? It’s cute. “

“It’s embarrassing!”

“You know what, I forget about it. You called me over here because you wanted to talk to me in person? Miss me that much Stevie?”

Steve sighs heavily. He runs his hands thru his hair.

“Uh yeah. Before I say it, just promise me you won’t be mad or freaked out….please”

“What it’s not like you have a crush on me or something?” Eddie says, he doesn’t mean it in a “I don’t want Steve to like me” he means it more like “PLEASE LIKE ME STEVE!” Way

Steve heart drops when he says that. He clears his throat. His breathing becomes heavy and his face becomes hot. He feels embarrassed, he knew he didn’t have a chance with Eddie.

“Oh… no! No… uhm I just. Uh.. was having problems with my car…yeah it’s making noises.” Steve blurts out, it’s the first thing that came to mind.

Eddie feels disappointed. “I’ll fix your car right up stevie! But you look way too nice just to tell me about your car problems, you got a date or something?”

“Uh no. Just what I put on today. So can you help me with my car? I need it for tomorrow because I’m supposed to take shit head to the arcade” Without thinking steve puts him thumb in between his teeth. He lies even more, he’s doing nothing tomorrow, well now he’s going to sulk and wallow in sorrow.

They go downstairs and to the front where Steve’s car is parked. Eddie pops the hood and starts to get to work.

“So uh what did you say was wrong with your car?” Eddie says, not in his usual happy cheerful tone but in a disappointed tone.

“The engine is making funny noises, like it’s loud weird noises.” Steve says he catches on to Eddie’s disappointed tone “Eddie are you alright?”

“Yeah? I’m fine Steve why?” He lies thru his teeth. They are both oblivious idiots.

Steve puts his thumb in mouth and shrugs.

“Dunno. You just sound…uh disappointed?” Steve says he looks at worried

Eddie smiles at Steve sucking his thumb, the image warms his heart.

“Stevie. I just don’t know why you would call me over at such an hour and looks so nice just for me to help with your car…over the phone you sounded nervous and….” The realization hits Eddie.

“Steve.”

Steve shys away.

“Oh Eddie I-. I’m sorry, I just…Eddie I really like you, like a lot. Uhm but I know now that you obviously don’t-“ Eddie cuts him off with a kiss.

“Steve I haven’t never wanted anymore more then I want you! What I said back there was complete self doubt please ignore that!” He hugs Steve.

Steve puts his thumb in between his teeth.

“You mean… you like me back!”

“I just kissed you Steve, of course I like you back!”

The end

[thealbatrovss]

waiting // logan howlett x reader

summary: scott and jean get engaged. logan seems happy for them. but old insecurities start bubbling to the surface.

one shot: angstyyyyyy, insecure reader, happy ending of course, not proofread

word count: 1k+

authors note: getting back into writing so here’s a quick one for ya’ll. Enjoy!!!

masterlist

When he made his way towards her, with a big grin on his face, you had to get out of there.

You bumped past friends and colleagues, weaving through the bodies like a hedge maze. The room closed in. Your stomach was raging with alcohol and fire.

It was so childish. Running away from your friend's own engagement party. This night was about them, not you.

But, Logan wouldn't stop talking about how happy he was for them since they made the announcement. You were happy too. Of course you were. They were like family to you. But, was he really content with everything? Sometimes, thoughts that he was settling would cloud your mind.

You’d only been dating for little over a year now, and well, Jean was still Jean. The Jean he loves. Or loved. It was becoming too hard to tell, your head starting spinning.

The night air hit your face. It was cold, too cold to be out at a time like this. But at least there was space. Space to hold yourself on the mansion's steps and think about everything swirling in your mind.

You knew holding her up on this pedestal wasn’t fair to her, to Logan and especially yourself. But sometimes, wounds that were once sealed up and packed away, came around visiting again.

He spent years harboring feelings for her. You just stood there and watched it. Until one day, you were grabbing a late night snack from the kitchen and saw Logan sitting at the table.

And he was no longer sulking. No longer chasing after someone who was always going to pick someone else. He smiled, and told you to sit and have a beer with him.

It wasn’t an odd request. You too were friends after all. But, you ended up spending the entire night talking. You asked him about his past and he was completely honest. He asked you about yours, barely ever looking away from you as you rambled on. Logan had a soft smile on his face the entire time you talked.

The two of you moved closer together as the night progressed into the early morning. By the time students began pouring in for breakfast, your chairs and shoulders were touching. He walked you to your room that day, asked you out to dinner. You had your first date at a bar. Jalapeno poppers and chicken sandwiches. The waiter accidentally spilt his tray of drinks on Logan trying to squeeze through the aisle.

When Logan kissed you for the first time in his car, you could feel the sticky drinks stuck to his leather jacket and skin.

The door creaked open behind you. Footsteps stopped at the steps above. You could smell that familiar wood and cigar smoke. It has stuck to you ever since that night in his car. “Its fucking freezing out here.”

You brushed away a fresh well of tears, hoping they’d dry quickly so he couldn’t tell. “You’re right about that.” You sniffed. But it was your voice that gave it away.

“Whats going on?” He sat down next to you. “Could you look at me?” He moved your hair away from your face, fingers grazing the wet skin. He paused. “Can you please talk to me? Why are you crying?”

You tried brushing his hand away, making yourself smaller against the stone wall. You pushed the side of your face into the rock, like it would magically make you disappear.

“I can’t help you if I don’t know whats going on.”

“I’m just drunk.” You tried to play it off. Not good enough.

Logan shook his head. “No. That's bullshit. You’ve been acting weird all day.”

The air kept getting colder. You started shivering. Logan cursed underneath his breath, taking his jacket off and draped it over your shaking shoulders. The simple gesture made you feel even smaller. “Do you ever wish things could be different?”

Logan looked at you confused. “What kinds of things?”

You sat up, knees facing away from your boyfriend. “The people you let into your life.”

“No.” He answered quickly. “I only let in people who let in me. Like you.” He smiled at the memory of spilt beer and messy kisses in the parking lot. “So no. Why? Do you?”

You huffed. “I find that hard to believe and I hate myself for it.”

Logan sat there bewildered. You’d always been open and honest with him about everything. You even opened up to him about your insecurities surrounding his relationship with Jean the first few months into dating. The realization washed over him as he watched the party goers mingle inside. “You still think I have feelings for Jean.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

The wind picked up, sending its sharp claws against your wet cheeks. “It’s stupid, I know.”

“No. I just don’t understand.” He sighed. “Why would you think that? I’m with you. I wouldn’t be if I didn’t want to be.”

The drinks settling in your stomach did the talking for you. “Well, if she wasn't with him things would be a lot different, wouldn’t they?” Your tone was as cold as the wind. You didn’t mean it to be.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You gripped his jacket tight around you. Holding onto it like you did when you first kissed. “Sometimes, it’s hard to accept your love.”

He didn’t respond, just let you continue. His hand started rubbing circles on your back.

“I feel like I’m taking something that isn’t mine.” Maybe if you were sober you could explain it better, but you carried on. “Or, I’m just holding my breath. Waiting.”

“Waiting for what?”

You’d feel more embarrassed without the alcohol running through your veins. But you sat there as tall as you could. Letting the insecurities bubble out in circles of angry shades of red. It wasn’t pretty, but it was real. It was what you’ve been bottling up for years now. “Waiting for it to go to its true destination.”

Logan looked up at the night sky. The wind ruffled his short hair. He looked so handsome in that all black suit he wore. One that you picked out just for him. He chuckled to himself, his eyes finding yours with a piercing gaze. He faced those words, seeing past the surface.

“I loved Jean once. That's the truth. But I’ve loved people before her. I’ve been alive for a long time.” He moved strains of hair from your face, resting his hand on your cheek. “But here’s another truth. I love you. Can’t you see that? Right here and now?”

You could see the genuine look in his eyes. You could always see it.

“And that’s not something I just give away. It’s also taken from me. You’ve taken it from me. And I’ve never been happier for you to have it, like I have yours.”

You nodded, sniffling. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, pulling you against his chest. “Don’t be. Just maybe next time, talk to me about this instead of holding it all in.”

You buried your head into his chest. Voice muffled against the dark fabric. “Says Mr. Wall builder himself.”

Logan kissed your head, fighting back the wind and a fit of laughter. “You got me there.”

[bloatedandalone04]

Dirty Little Secret

➪the one where you and tyler are in a secret relationship.

Warnings: smut, fluff, oral (both f & m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, swearing, hair pulling, dirty talk, lowkey pain kink

Word Count: 2.4k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Yours and Tyler’s relationship was rather simple. 

You and he were together, officially, but secretly.

In an attempt to not make things super fucking awkward or weird for the others, you and Tyler decided to keep your relationship a secret, and for the most part it was working quite well. 

Originally, you started out as just friends. You were both content with that for a while, until it became very obvious that it wasn’t nearly enough for either of you. So you tried one date with him, and the rest was history. 

With that being said, the crew were all very close to each other, but no one had crossed romantic boundaries. Except for you and Tyler, but no one knew. In fear of things going wrong or the two of you breaking up (though it was becoming more and more clear that you and Tyler were in this for the long haul), the decision to have a secret relationship was a mutual one.

But, fuck was it hard to do sometimes. 

-

Another day, another successful chase. 

Tyler had been in the truck for a good portion of the day, so he was happy to stretch his legs as he stood in the lot with you, Boone, Dexter, Lilly and Dani in front of him. Ben had already gone off to his room at the motel, since the way Tyler drove had made him sick or something like that. 

His eyes met yours for a brief second before he looked over at Lilly. “How were the numbers today, Lil?”

Lilly scrolled through her phone as she read the statistics of their most recent stream, a sly grin on her face when she looked up. “One of our highest watched streams yet,” she answered, giving Boone a fist bump as the two of them fell into a conversation. 

Tyler nodded, a content smile on his face as everyone wandered off towards their respective rooms. His hand brushed along your lower back as he passed by you on his way to his own room, a knowing look on his face that was similar to the one on yours. 

Once he was in his room, the countdown was on. You and he had a plan; wait for everyone to go their separate ways, wait exactly seven minutes because five was too soon, then you would quickly knock on his door four times so he could let you in and ravish you all night without the peering eyes of the others. 

Tyler shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the chair before leaning against the desk, his eyes on his watch as he silently counted down the minutes until he would hear your knock, then have you back in his arms - where you belonged.

Exactly seven minutes later, four quiet knocks sounded on the other side of the door, and Tyler was already moving. He swung the door open and pulled you inside immediately, kicking the door shut behind you. “Fuck, baby,” he mumbled, reaching for your hips as he pushed you against the wall beside the door. His lips found yours in a deep, heated kiss that pretty much showed you just how much he had missed you today, despite being near you the whole time. Pretending like you were just his friend was a fucking hard task. “I’ve been waitin’ for this all damn day. Missed you so much.” 

His fingers slid the bottom of your shirt up a bit before his hands grabbed the skin of your waist, his teeth tugging on your bottom lip as he pressed you more firmly against the wall. 

“I know we can’t show it out there, but in here? Fuck, you’re all mine,” he muttered, his hands sliding up your back under your shirt.  

You moaned softly against his mouth and tangled your fingers in his hair. “Technically I’m yours out there too,” you murmured, “Just secretly.” 

Tyler groaned into the kiss, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he ground his growing erection against you. “I love you so much, baby,” he mumbled as he peppered kisses along your jawline, down your neck and on your throat as he pulled your shirt off, tossing it aside carelessly. “You’re so goddamn perfect, sweetheart. I wanna show you off to the world, but this works too.” 

You grinned against his lips when he leaned back in and kissed you deeply, his arms wrapping around your body to unclasp your bra. “I love you too,” you said back, threading your fingers through his hair as his hands groped at your bare chest. “Take me to bed, Ty.”

Tyler’s hands reached down and gripped your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly and carrying you over to the bed. His lips trailed all over your chest, his tongue running along your nipples before he moved lower. His fingers unzipped your jeans and tugged them down your legs, your panties following quickly after as he groaned at the sight of your dripping core. “Tell me what you want, baby,” he murmured, teasing your folds with his index and middle fingers as his body settled between your thighs. “Want me to taste this pretty pussy?”

You whined, propping yourself up on your elbows as you looked down at him. “Yes. Please,” you answered, your voice barely above a whisper. Your fingers brushed along the undersides of your breasts as you subtly bucked your hips closer towards his mouth. “Please.”

Tyler smirked up at you, his mouth pressing soft kisses all along your thighs. “So fuckin’ hot, baby,” he grunted, leaning in to kiss your clit as his tongue poked out to lick at your folds. When your familiar taste coated his mouth, he groaned, his hands gripping your thighs as he buried his face between your legs. He flicked his tongue rapidly over your clit, circling it and sucking on it as he devoured you like a starved man. “Mm, fuck yes.” He mumbled against your quivering slit, his fingers digging into your soft thighs as he focused his attention on your puffy bundle of nerves. 

“Ty,” you gasped, falling back onto the bed as you spread your legs wider for him. Your fingers tugged on his hair, gently pulling on the light strands as he touched you and tasted you in the way you’d been craving all day. When he sucked harshly on your clit, you moaned rather loudly as you slowly ground against his face. “Fuck, it’s so good.”

Tyler groaned against your pussy, his tongue working overtime as he lapped at your sweet taste. “You taste so perfect, sweetheart,” he praised, the sting of your relentless tugging on his hair going straight to his cock. Two of his fingers slipped inside your core easily, pumping them in and out of you as his lips brushed along your lower stomach. “That’s it, baby.”

“Fuck, just like that,” you cried out, pulling harder on his hair as your back arched. “You’re so good at this, Ty…fuck, I’m so lucky.”

Tyler grinned against your skin, feeling the way you tightened around his fingers. “Gonna make you cum so hard, sweet girl,” he mumbled, curling his fingers deep inside you. “Wanna feel this tight pussy squeeze me.”

Your moans grew louder at his dirty words, and he knew they would. In the many months he’s been with you, Tyler had discovered that you had a thing for dirty talk, and he had a thing for coaxing those sweet sounds out of your mouth, so he was more than happy to indulge in your fantasies. 

When your thighs began to shake, he knew you were there, so he sped up the pace of his fingers and sucked on you a bit harder. “Cum for me,” he mumbled against your clit. “Wanna taste you.”

“Fuck…fuck,” you cried out, giving his hair one last tug before you came hard. Your back arched even more as your eyes squeezed shut, your moans growing louder to the point where Tyler wasn’t entirely convinced your secret relationship was still a secret. 

Tyler moaned at your taste, cleaning you up greedily as he worked you through your high. “There you go, baby. Cum all over my face,” he cooed and didn’t stop until he felt your body go limp, your breathing heavy and ragged as you tried to catch your breath. He pressed a final, much more gentle kiss to your overstimulated clit before standing up from the bed, keeping his eyes on yours as he brought his fingers up to his mouth and sucked them clean. “Best fuckin’ taste in the world.”

You whimpered as you weakly pushed yourself up and leaned in to kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips as you reached down to pull off his belt. Your fingers hastily unzipped his jeans and shoved them down his thighs, along with his boxers, moaning softly at the way he kissed you a bit harder. 

Your fingers brushed along his abs through his shirt as you pulled away and moved to lay down on your stomach, your head at level with his hips as you looked up at him. “Take this off, baby,” you mumbled before gripping the base of his cock and wrapping your lips around just the tip.  

Tyler’s hands quickly grabbed the end of his shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it aside to find later. His chest was heaving a bit, his abs tensing as he tangled his fingers in your hair, his palm resting against the back of your head. “Fuck,” he muttered, the feeling of your warm, tight mouth around his throbbing dick making him let out harsh breaths. “So fuckin’ good.” 

Your tongue swirled around him as you bobbed your head up and down, coating him in a thin layer of your spit as you looked up at him through your lashes. Your hand stroked what couldn’t fit into your mouth, your other one gripping his hip and silently encouraging him to thrust gently.

He let out deep groans, tightening his hold on your hair as his hips started to thrust shallowly, pushing himself deeper into your mouth. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he grunted, refraining from just fucking your face like he wanted to. “Your mouth is fuckin’ perfect.”

When you hollow your cheeks and take him deeper, Tyler knew he wouldn’t last long. He gently guided you off him, his thumbs stroking your jaw as he leaned down and kissed you sweetly. 

“I wanna fuck you, baby,” he mumbled, helping you to your knees before he spun you around and bent you over the bed. Guiding your legs apart, Tyler gripped your hips as he slowly pushed inside of you. He groaned at the tight stretch of your soaked core around him, giving you a few seconds to adjust before he pulled nearly all the way out, only to thrust back in again. 

“Ty,” you gasped, fisting the sheets as your body jolted forward once he set a hard, fast pace. Your hair was a mess, your eyes rolled back as he fucked you from behind. It was more than clear that you both needed this after going the entire day without so much as a brush of your hands. 

Yours and Tyler’s love language was touch, so having to be around each other all day but not be able to touch? Yeah, that resulted in exactly what was happening right now in this motel room. 

The bed creaked under the fast pace of Tyler’s hips, but he had to go hard, because you were gripping him like you never wanted to let him go. “Fuck, you’re so tight. So perfect,” he grunted, tightening his hold on your hips to hold you in place. He leaned over you, pressing his chest against your back as he kissed all along your shoulder and jaw. When one of his hands reached around you to brush along your throbbing clit, you moaned a bit louder, and Tyler smirked. “You like that, baby? Like when I fuck this tight pussy?” 

Your head fell forward, your face pressing against the comforter as you nodded helplessly, murmuring a slurred chant of ‘yes’. The headboard knocked against the wall and mixed well with the sound of Tyler’s hips hitting yours over and over again. “I love it,” you finally managed to say, your legs shaking despite you being completely supported by the bed. “God, Ty…harder. Please, I need it.” 

Tyler groaned, fucking into you even faster and deeper than before. “Are you gonna cum for me again?” He rasped, rubbing harsh circles on your clit in time with his thrusts. “Come on, sweet girl, give it to me.”

You let out a soft, quiet scream as you cum for the second time, your moans muffled by the sheets. Tyler didn’t relent, his hips hitting yours as he fucked you through your high. His fingers were gripping you so tight, holding you firmly in place as he felt himself get impossibly closer, and a few seconds later, he was there too.

He grunted deeply, weakly thrusting in and out of your pulsing pussy as jets of white painted you as his own. “Fuck,” he whispered, leaning over you again as he panted against your neck. “Christ, baby…” 

A soft laugh left your mouth as you let him practically crush you against the bed. “I guess you can say I kinda fucking missed you,” you offered with a lazy smile, still trembling a bit. 

“I think that’s an understatement,” he mumbled, pressing soft kisses to your damp skin. “I missed you too, sweetheart. I swear, I’ll never get enough.” His words were sweet now as he slowly pulled out of you, cradling you against his chest as he moved to lay down on the bed. 

“You better not,” you grinned, cuddling against him as the motel room fell quiet again.

“I won’t. Promise,” he said quietly, rubbing your back as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “By the way, you were kind of loud. Do you think they know now?”

You hummed and shrugged, tangling your legs with his. “Do you want me to not be so loud?”

“Fuck no,” Tyler answered quickly, holding you a bit tighter. “Just…be prepared in case these walls are super fuckin’ thin, because I have a feelin’ we won’t be a secret for much longer.” 

And he was right, because as soon as he saw Boone’s smirking face the next morning, he knew there was no hiding it anymore. And secretly, Tyler was really fucking relieved.

[alchemicalwerewolf]

I’ve finally gotten ok enough to tell this story so time to break out the Jeremy tales.

So basically the first thing that happened when I got to dance on Friday morning was this girl’s boyfriend came in with her breakfast and then in front of everyone was like oh hey btw I’ve been cheating on you with a 15yo for six months and imma leave you for her now. He was like nineteen. So ofc we’re all like

And the girl is like

And so then he leaves and that girl is crying and so a bunch of people are consoling her and the people who aren’t are warming up for dance and they were messing around and doing a lift we do like all the time where you kinda stand on each other’s hand and then they throw one person up and catch them. Well whenever they went to catch the girl they threw they slipped and so the girl landed on her head and like blacked out and I saw it happen and she was like twitching and then one of the girls started screaming for the teacher. And ofc I’m like

And then the teacher runs over and after a few minutes the girl woke up but she was like I don’t feel good and we were all like no fr she has a concussion and so the teacher called her mom and she went home and we went through class. But everyone is like uhhhh this day isn’t weird at all.

And then in tap someone’s tap shoe broke and they got a nail through their foot. And I was like oh. Blood. Let me just pass out now.

So then it was hip hop and we’d done warmups and were on a break so me and one of my dance friends Dylan were messing around doing flips and he was like ok let me try my Ariel which is like a cartwheel with no hands and he gets it sometimes but not always he’s still working on it so I was like ok do it. So I’m watching and his head was like super close to the floor so he put his hand down instead of doing it right but he put it down weird and I watched his arm just snap and he stood up and was like

oh my god I broke my arm I think and I was like

no duh it’s at a 90 degree angle you idiot

And it was like bleeding and it was horrifying but the shock and adrenaline made it where we were both super like calm seeming so nobody like payed any attention to us so I was like ok we need the teacher so we go over there and I’m like uh Dylan broke his arm and she was like what and then Dylan stopped holding his arm in place and it just like fell and she was like omg that’s insane so she called his mom and she was like fifteen minutes away so we’re all just like omg did that actually just happen and I’m basically the only one that isn’t Dylan that actually knew what happened so everyone was like crowdin me and asking about it but I’m like lowkey about to throw up because of what I saw

And so finally his mom gets there

and takes him to the doctor and everyone’s like ok what do we even do now like is dance cancelled? And my teacher is like

If you run the dance really well

I’ll let you guys just chill until your parents pick you up.

so we all ran it straight up perfectly because like we have to and we’re all like omg there’s some weird vibes going on here so some kids went home early and then the rest of us are like flinging holy water and crap around because like what else do we do

And then I had to do contemporary and we had to do a big lift but for some reason the girl we were lifting twisted for no reason and so it made us impossible for any of us to catch her so then I managed to grab her shirt to slow her fall but she still hit the floor and got the wind knocked out of her.

And when I grabbed her shirt it yanked my arm, which I thought just made it sore for a moment

Yeah Jeremy I know, stupid thought. It dislocated my collarbone. And I was like ow but it’s ok I’ve done this before and it can’t possibly get any worse!

Another incorrect assumption. Found out today I partially tore a muscle in my back. Not enough that I need surgery but enough where I’m literally not allowed to dance for at least the next two weeks.

And also the only mildly comfortable position to be in looks something like this

Which for some reason people don’t appreciate it when you just randomly lay on your stomach in target.

So now I’ve taken unholy amounts of pain medicine

And this is how I feel.

@emmaspersonaldiary since you wanted me to do this lol

[the-captain-of-the-tulpar]

Those haters are stupid to hate on you for those things. They can’t even be original with their hate.

[His eyes snap back to Odessa, not for any weird reason but to just so he can show he’s listening.]

You can always try, I don’t bite and I do try to be truthful if the question doesn’t throw me for a loop. I may be the captain, but I’m also just like any other person on this ship.

Jimmy is a really good guy, he just gets seen in the weirdest lighting sometimes. Yet I won’t downplay someone else’s gut feelings as I’m not you after all.

Captain?

Would you like to take a walk with me? Maybe some tea? It might help you to stay calm. I'm sorry that some people have decided to cause issues.

Remember to breathe. They want you to break. -☆

[Curly had been staring into the table for however long, but once hearing another his attention and eyes snap to Odessa.]

Dr Joyce! Hello, I wouldn't mind taking a walk and then some tea. It sounds like a nice change of pace from what I was doing.

[He hadn't even been doing anything, only just thinking. Painful thinking.]

Don't worry I am breathing, as otherwise I wouldn't be alive.

[He tries to joke with a smile.]

[napping-sapphic]

NEED someone to let me pull them close and spend hours telling them all the things I love about them