#category: unspecified

[revenant-coining]

Nilgenrecta

(pt: Nilgenrecta /end pt)

Nilgenrecta; a term for being gender non-conforming (GNC) & straight!

etymology; “nil” latin for no, gen(der), “recta” latin for “directly, straight”

for anon!

tagging; @radiomogai

[autism-corner]

i <3 lists & organization & categorizing so much i love spreadsheets i think its so cool and <33

[deakyjoe]

Arranged & Absolute

Pairing: Papa Emeritus IV/Copia x Reader (fem, afab)

Category: arranged marriage, smut

Summary: To strengthen his new position as Papa, Copia agrees to marry someone he’s never met.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected p in v sex, desk sex, you get cum on the paperwork, vaginal fingering, grinding/dry humping, kissing, groping, arranged marriage, unspecified age gap, awkward first meeting, Sister Imperator being a supportive mother (but not because Copia doesn’t know she’s his mother), dead Papas (all of them, even Nihil), guilt, self esteem issues, parental issues, loneliness, poorly translated Italian, reader vaguely described as being shorter than Copia but nothing else, let me know if I missed anything!

Word count: 6.9k

A/N: I chose the gif specifically because he looks hot in it. This fic went from “huh maybe one day I could write about an arranged marriage thing with Copia but I don’t know what exactly yet since I don’t have any solid ideas” to “what the fuck have I done” in the space of less than 24 hours! Enjoy!

Consider buying me a coffee :)

Copia had thought it was a stupid idea. But Sister Imperator had insisted. So here he was. On his wedding day. Having never met his bride.

His foot tapped against the floor at a rapid pace, nerves radiating out of him, as he stood at the head of the chapel and watched the guests flood in to take their seats. He didn't fail to notice that almost everybody there was there for him, so many of them arriving in fact that they had to start sitting on the pews that were supposed to be reserved for your friends, family and kin. But he knew you'd travelled a long way, practically the only information he knew about you, so maybe no one from your home was willing to make the journey. Still, Copia found it sad.

Sister Imperator stood at his side, attempting to be supportive. "Calm down. The ceremony will go smoothly."

That wasn't what he was worried about. He knew the wedding itself would go smoothly, Sister would make sure of it, but everything else about it seemed all wrong. For starters, he'd never met his future wife. Which was bad enough by itself. But what if you hated him? From what he'd understood, you weren't too thrilled about the pairing either but your father had managed to convince you. Copia had met your father at least but he wasn't a particularly nice man.

When Imperator had initially come to Copia with the idea he'd laughed it off thinking it was a joke. An arranged marriage in the 21st century? And in the Satanic church where they encouraged freedom of all places? He thought it was nonsense. But then when she'd explained that a well thought out match would be put in place to strengthen his new title of Papa Emeritus IV... he started to realise that she was being serious.

He'd refused at first, saying that his position was enough. He was Papa now. And there was no taking that away, especially with his three predecessors dead and Nihil also in the grave. Who was there to question his authority? But Imperator pointed out his lack of legitimacy, he wasn't really an Emeritus, and how Papa Nihil had been reluctant to let him be the face of the clergy when he was still a mere Cardinal. Then he saw the cracks in his status.

So he agreed. A spouse would be found for him, to stand by his side and bring more power to his Papacy. He'd only allowed himself a brief second of panic when Imperator had mentioned in passing the need for an heir.

Copia looked at Sister, who had changed out of the usual skirt suit she wore and had chosen to adorn a dress in a nice green colour that suited her. Despite insisting that the whole thing was a formality, Copia appreciated her effort in making the day nice. "What if she doesn't like me?"

The older woman's face softened for a moment, how hadn't she realised that was what he was nervous about? He was a sensitive soul after all, constantly seeking approval. "She will adore you, C. Don't worry."

Copia looked down at his outfit, what if he wasn't dressed well enough? First impressions mattered after all. And the paints on his face itched more than usual. What if they started sweating off? But it was too late to dwell on that now. The last few people settled in the pews and silence descended over the chapel. It was time.

The large double doors at the back of the room swung open with a creak and the quartet in the corner started playing, what Copia believed to be, some sort of twist on the wedding march. He froze as his eyes landed on you, the reality of the situation dawning on him fully and sending him into a spiral. He was about to marry somebody he'd never met.

He tried not to let it show as you started walking towards him down the aisle, a train of lace following you. Nobody was walking you to him, ready to give you away, he noticed. Your father hadn't come to the wedding? Copia drank you in, the black wedding dress sweeping down the curves of your body and the matching veil covering your face. At least he had a moment to compose himself before he had to make eye contact with you.

You walked quickly, like you wanted to get the whole thing over and done with, and you were stood at the base of the steps in front of Copia before he could blink twice. He offered a gloved hand to you to help you up, which you took after a brief moment of staring at it through your veil. Copia squeezed it gently, hoping to offer some support and solidarity. He didn't know if it translated well.

And then you were in front of him, and the ceremony was beginning.

Imperator coughed quietly behind him. "C, the veil."

"Oh." He gasped and reached up the take the bottom of it in his fingertips, pausing for a second to allow you a moment to stop him if you wanted, before lifting it and pushing it back over your head.

The moment he met your eyes, Copia felt all oxygen leave his body. You were beautiful.

You sent him a nervous smile. "Hi."

Your voice was barely a whisper, so small and worried, that he barely heard you.

"Hi." He replied, sending a smile of his own and taking your hands in his.

Sister Imperator relaxed behind him, she could tell that he was smitten with you already. She’d chosen well.

The officiant ran through the ceremony with ease, the two of you repeating all the necessary parts when needed. Then suddenly it was over, the 'I do's' were said, rings were exchanged and Copia was a married man.

"You may kiss the bride." The officiant said.

Copia looked at you for confirmation that it was okay and when you gave a small nod of approval, he shuffled towards you and rested a gloved hand on your cheek. You leaned in first, which he was glad for as he felt as if his heart was about to beat up and out of his mouth, and met him halfway. Your lips pressed together for a second or two before the both of you pulled away with shy smiles.

The room cheered, a clear mix of real elation and dubious celebration. It wasn't a love match after all. But Copia didn't care, he had high hopes about the pairing now. You seemed nice enough and he found you breathtaking, he just hoped you could feel a fraction of the same about him. Which he feared you didn't, what could he possibly offer you?

The thoughts left him as Sister Imperator patted him on the back. "Well done, C."

"Thank you." He nodded at her before looking back towards you again.

Imperator looked at you as well. "And congratulations, it's lovely to finally meet you."

"Thank you, Sister. My father speaks very highly of you." You bowed your head at her before glancing at your new husband. "I think we're supposed to run out of here now. Like the wild newlyweds people expect to see."

Copia grinned, liking your attitude, and nodded his head in agreement. "That is exactly what people expect, shall we?”

You took the hand he offered to you and the two of you trotted down the few steps before speeding towards the doors of the chapel. People shouted words of praise and felicitations as you passed them which you could only smile at in return.

Once the both of you had burst out of the exit and the doors had swung shut behind you, a moment of peace was found. You turned to each other breathless, bashful looks gracing your faces.

“Hi.” You said, louder than the first time at the altar.

“Hi.” He repeated back to you. “You look beautiful in your dress, by the way.”

“Oh, thank you.” You looked down at the garment before looking back at him. “You look handsome too. I like your jacket.”

“This old thing?” Copia replied before wincing. Why did he make it seem like he’d worn an old jacket for his wedding?

But you didn’t seem to notice his slip up as you continued to smile at him. “What happens now?”

“I believe Sister Imperator has organised a banquet for us.” He pulled you closer to him as guests started to file out of the chapel and guided you in the direction of the ballroom.

“A banquet? That’s pretty fancy.” You chimed, looping your arm through his so the two of you could walk together.

“She pulled out all the stops.” Copia looked over at you, surprised at how well you seemed to be taking it all. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.” You glanced over your shoulder at the crowd of people that was emerging steadily. “Can we just walk a little faster? I don’t want to be bombarded by all those people just yet.”

“Sì, sì.” He increased his pace, making sure you were tightly secured to his side the whole time. “What made you agree to this marriage? I heard at first that you said no.”

“Ah.” You paused. “I did say no at first. Nothing personal against you, I promise.”

“We did not know each other. It’s okay.” He assured before letting you carry on.

“I didn’t want to marry a stranger. But I did want to escape my father. You know who he is, correct?”

Copia nodded. “I’ve met him.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry.” You winced. “He’s not a nice man. But holds a high position in the clergy. I’m his only child, you see. And he’s always drilled into me that I am useless because I am a daughter. What use is a daughter? I cannot be an heir and inherit anything from him.”

“That’s not true!” He gasped. “The clergy dictates that-“

You cut him off by laying a hand on his arm. “It’s not the clergy’s doing. It’s my father’s. It’s okay, I grew used to his archaic ways. Anyway he said the only good I would be was marrying me off. At first I said no because I thought he was going to marry me off to an old, ugly man who was unkind. Then he told me that you seemed sensitive when he met with you which translates to nice. And he also told me that no Emeritus has ever been ugly. I believed him. He used to keep a portrait of Papa Emeritus III before he died so I knew there was some truth in that at least.”

Copia’s stomach twisted at the reminder of Terzo’s death, a sense of guilt still ate away at him when he thought about him and his older brothers. But he didn’t let it show in front of you. “Well, I am glad that you decided to believe that I was not unkind nor ugly. However, considering you didn’t mention anything about me not being old I am going to assume that you consider me to be ancient.”

You gasped out a laugh. “I didn’t say that!”

“You didn’t need to. It was implied.” He laughed along with you as you reached the ballroom, pushing the door open to allow you to go in first. When he joined your side again, he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his mouth as you linked your arm with his again.

“Wow.” You mumbled as you took in the expanse of the room. “You weren’t kidding when you said Sister Imperator pulled out all the stops.”

Copia led you over to the table designed for the newlywed couple. It held four chairs. One for him, one for you, one for Sister, and one meant for your father. He guessed that chair would remain empty for the evening.

You made no comment on it as you took your seat, watching your new husband closely as he sat next to you. “What about you? What made you agree to this marriage?”

He sighed deeply before looking at you. “I feared my place as Papa would be easy to shake. I didn’t inherit it officially through the Emeritus line like my predecessors. Marrying a family member of a high upper clergy member is meant to solidify my status.”

“Ah, a power play.” You nodded.

“Yes, a power play.” He frowned at that term. “But I only agreed once Sister promised she would find me a good match.”

“And what constitutes as a good match to you?” You asked, wondering what he’d requested in a wife.

A smile lit up his face. “The gorgeous woman who is sitting in front of me.”

“Smooth.” You replied, reminding yourself to interrogate him on the topic later.

Guests started flooding in, finding their seats at the various tables that filled the room. You just watched with barely concentrated attention.

You turned to Copia once the room was about three quarters of the way full. “How many of these people do you actually know?”

“I recognise most of them. I would say I probably know a third of them personally.” He shrugged. “How many do you know?”

“None of them.” You shrugged. “I didn’t have any guests come.”

“What? None of them?” He couldn’t quite believe that. He’d assumed that the people he didn’t recognise were your half of the wedding party.

“I don’t know many people back home. Those I do know… I wouldn’t want them here.” Your nose scrunched at the memory, the people you’d grown up around were not people you needed ruining what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life.

Copia looked at you sadly for a moment, wondering whether you were upset by the ordeal. But you seemed fine. “Well, now you have me.”

You looked at him, surprised, before a gentle smile settled on your face. “Now I have you.”

He returned the smile, picking up your hand and placing a soft kiss on the back of it. He mumbled an apology when he noticed the black kiss print he’d left on the skin there. You stopped him when he reached for a napkin to wipe it away, insisting he leave it there.

The moment was disrupted by Sister Imperator collapsing into the seat next to Copia. “You two seem to be getting along well.”

You exchanged a slightly giddy look with Copia before looking back at the older woman.

“We are.” He clarified. “You matched us well.”

“Knew I would.” She said smugly before looking at the empty chair next to you. “Your father did not attend.”

It was a statement more than a question.

A neutral smile settled over your lips, like you were prepared to discuss this. “No. I didn’t want him here. He didn’t want to be here. It was an easy enough decision.”

Imperator respected that response so said no more on the matter, only glancing towards the door to the kitchens where a group of servers were bustling about. “Food should be served soon. Then the day’s celebrations will be over.”

“No after party?” Copia sounded disappointed.

“That’ll be held next weekend. After all official marriage business has been taken care of. Ah, the food!” She sat up straighter in her chair as a waiter suddenly appeared and placed a plate in front of each of you.

You stared down at the appetiser salad that was about the size of your big toe. You hoped there were more courses to come. A lot more. Nevertheless, you picked up your fork and stabbed at a crunchy piece of lettuce before popping it in your mouth.

Copia did the same next to you before looking back towards Imperator again. “Official marriage business? Like what? We are married.”

She looked at him like it was obvious. “Well, you know what happens on the wedding night.”

He only looked more confused. “People getting drunk?”

Imperator rolled her eyes before practically hissing at him. "You must consummate the marriage."

Both you and Copia stopped chewing, forks being lowered to your plates with a clatter.

You swallowed the mouthful, straining slightly to force it down. "How- how soon?"

"Well, tonight preferably." Imperator said calmly. "To solidify your union."

"Sister, we've only just met." Your husband croaked.

The older woman looked at him unimpressed. "Are you trying to tell me you've never had a one night stand with someone you just met?"

"Well-" Copia choked. "That's- that's different."

"Different how?" She questioned, eyes flicking between the two of you. "Treat it like a one night stand. If it's terrible then you do not have to touch each other again. Well, until an heir is expected. But if it is good then see it as a lovely start to your marriage."

You ignored the talk of an heir, the thought of having a man you just met's baby being too much for you to handle in that moment. "Okay."

"Okay?!" Copia whirled on you, surprised you'd agreed that easily.

"Ah, beloved husband, do you find me that repulsive?" You grinned at him, only a hint of genuine worry in your voice.

"No, no. Of course not." He rushed out, thinking about how it was quite the opposite in fact. "I just did not expect you to give in so quickly."

"Give in?" You asked, eyebrows raising in question. "It might surprise you that the concept of sleeping with you does not sound so bad to me, Copia."

His heart, and cheeks, warmed at the use of his name. It was the first time you'd done so. It sounded nice coming out of your mouth. Out of his wife's mouth. "Eh, very well. We shall consummate the marriage."

"Wonderful." Sister Imperator clapped her hands together before standing up. "I shall inform the clergy of this joyous news."

The two of you watched her walk away, abandoning her salad, the knowledge that a group of old men now knew about your future sex lives playing in the back of your minds.

You shook the thought away as you scooted your chair closer to Copia's, lowering your voice for only him to hear. "You sound elated at the concept of sleeping with me."

His eyes widened as he looked at you. "Um, I uh-"

You smirked. "It's okay. We can just pretend if you'd like. They'll never know the difference."

"No, that's- we don't have to do that. Do you want to do that?" He took a deep breath. "To pretend?"

You looked him up and down. "No."

His ears and neck burned red with a flush. "Really?"

You let out a short giggle. "Yes, why is that so surprising to you?"

"Because I'm- and you're-" He gestured at your face but said no more.

You smiled softly. "Well, to me you are-" You mimicked his gesture to his face.

"Oh." He squeaked and you grinned widely at him. "But you're sure? So soon?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Although I would maybe like to see what's underneath all this paint first." You said, letting your eyes roam his face.

"Of course, of course." He babbled. "Maybe you will find yourself disappointed and change your mind."

You rolled your eyes. "Unlikely."

Copia liked your confidence in assuming you were going to find yourself attracted to his face underneath the makeup. He wasn’t so sure himself but at least you’d given his ego a slight boost.

The two of you exchanged idle conversation as more food was served, bigger portions to your relief, and the occasional guest came up to your table to wish you congratulations. You didn’t fail to notice the looks of envy that were sent your way by several people who eyed up Copia hungrily as they approached. You could only laugh to yourself, finding it even funnier that your new husband seemed to lack faith in his looks despite there clearly being a long line of people who wanted him.

A couple of hours passed by and soon enough the guests started clearing out, which you were thankful for. You couldn’t wait to take your shoes off or to ease up the laces on your dress. It had been a long day. But you knew it wasn’t over yet. The time was slowly approaching. The time when you were supposed to sleep with your new husband for the first time.

You weren’t nervous exactly. But there was still an element of apprehension deep inside you.

Once the last few people had departed and Sister Imperator had wished you both a good night, a very suggestive look on her face, you and Copia were left in an empty ballroom.

“Would you like me to give you a tour of the building now? Or in the morning?” He asked you as he took your hand in his, rubbing his gloved thumb over your knuckles.

“In the morning.” You decided. “It will give us something to look forward to. Besides, I can see that you’re tired.”

“Not too tired for you, I promise.” He sighed. “It’s just been a long day.”

“I know.” You agreed and stood up. “Let’s go to bed.”

The words weren’t suggestive in the slightest which is why Copia didn’t feel nervous as he joined your side and the two of you made your way out of the ballroom. He pointed out a few landmarks of the place as you walked in the direction of his rooms but everything went largely unexplored. It could wait for tomorrow.

Anxiety set in as you reached the corridor that led to his bedroom. What if you didn’t like his space? He was willing to change things, to accommodate, as he wanted you to feel welcome. But what if you hated it? And didn’t want to share a room, or a bed, with him. He supposed he would find you your own place to stay. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that it would make him sad.

“And these are my rooms.” He said as he pushed his door open and ushered you in. “Our rooms, if you’d like. But if not then I’m sure we can find you somewhere of your own to stay.”

You looked around as the doors were closed behind you. It was nice. Very him from what you’d gathered so far. There was a book case, overflowing with volumes, next to a desk covered in paperwork in one corner. A large bed took up almost an entire wall, four posters with a curtain hanging around it. Fancy. He had an ornate oak wardrobe teeming with sparkly jackets that poked out of the open doors, you’d have to ask him to model some of those for you at a later date.

You turned towards Copia with a timid smile. “I don’t want to intrude. This is your home.”

He rushed towards you, taking your hands in his to reassure you. “It’s your home now too. I want you to be comfortable here. Well, not right here if you don’t want. Or if you do want.”

You couldn’t express how relieved you were at how sweet he was. “I do want. For now at least.”

His face lit up. “You’ll stay here? With me?”

You nodded, matching his positivity. “Yes.”

“Wonderful, hehe.” He paused and glanced over your shoulder towards the bed. “I will go wash my face and then… then we can…”

“Consummate the marriage?” You offered with a sarcastic smile. “It’s okay, we can take it slow.”

Copia nodded before turning and disappearing into the bathroom. You took the opportunity to snoop around a little, to get a feel for your new husband some more.

In the bathroom, he washed his face meticulously, careful not to be too harsh on his skin. He wanted to look clean and fresh for you, not like a ripe tomato from being too aggressive with a washcloth.

Once he was done Copia stared at himself in the mirror, face only slightly red from where he’d scrubbed the paint away. Faint traces of black had been left around his eyes but he knew no amount of rubbing his eyes raw with a washcloth would clean it away so he left it there. His fists clenched around the edge of the basin, nerves setting in. What if you were disappointed by what was revealed to be under his paints? You said it was unlikely you would be but a part of him still worried. The day had been going smoothly, almost too smoothly, that he thought something was bound to go wrong. And what if it turned out to be his appearance.

Pushing all of that away, he realised that he wouldn’t know any of it for sure until he just went for it. So, after letting the murky grey water wash away, Copia opened the bathroom door and stepped out with an air of faux confidence that quickly dissipated.

He found you stood next to his desk, eyes scanning his book shelves as you had a good look at all of the titles. You glanced over your shoulder at him, doing a double take when you saw him. He was standing in the arch of the bathroom doorway, backlit with light that made him glow. If you weren’t a Satan worshipper you would have said he looked angelic.

Copia shifted from foot to foot as you stared at him silently. The panic was starting to set in again as you continued to say nothing. Why weren’t you saying anything? That feeling vanished when you held out a hand to him.

“Come here.” You said quietly, tipping your head back to invite him over.

He practically ran to you, taking your hand in his but still keeping his distance by a foot or so.

You closed the distance yourself, lifting your spare hand to cup the side of his face in it. “You are so beautiful.”

His shoulders relaxed, tension leaving them, as he leaned into your touch and turned his head to kiss the palm of your hand. “That is high praise coming from you.”

You shook your head playfully. “Oh, my husband’s a charmer.”

My husband. He was your husband. He liked that. “Only for you, amore mio.”

“Don’t go making promises you might not be able to keep.” You teased, warmth flooding through you at the term of endearment he’d used. “What if we hate each other?”

“I think we made a promise when we recited our vows.” He kissed your palm again before leaving one on your wrist as well, quickly making his way down your arm until it was wrapped around the back of his neck. “And I cannot imagine myself ever hating anyone as lovely as you.”

You hummed in response, not being able to form a coherent reply as his face drew nearer to yours. His free hand reached for your waist, winding his arm around you and pulling you flush against his chest. Your intertwined hands stayed connected beside you.

He looked down at you with a half smile curling the edges of his mouth. “Cat got your tongue, amore mio?”

You shook your head slowly. “Just wondering where the shy Copia of a few moments ago disappeared to.”

“Ah, well, my gorgeous wife told me I am beautiful so I decided to toss the nerves aside.” He tilted his head to the side innocently.

“Your wife sounds wise.”

“Oh, she is.” His eyes flickered downwards. “She is also driving me crazy in this dress.”

You averted your own eyes in embarrassment. “I was hoping you’d like it.”

“Oh, amore mio, I do. I really do.” Copia decided then to push towards where the night was inevitably going to end. “However, I think I’d like it even better on the floor.”

Your eyes widened at that. But you liked it. “We better get to work then because it has a lot of buttons and a lot of lace up.”

“You are in luck. I am good with that, you see.” He grinned and gestured downwards.

You followed the angle of his hands and saw that he also had a lot of lace up. Over his crotch. “I guess we can help each other then.”

“Sì.”

And with that he kissed you. It was a lot different to the one kiss you’d shared at the altar. That had been shy and slightly awkward, hundreds of people had been watching after all. But this kiss left that one behind. It was sweet and tender, just as you expected from your new husband. But it was also hungry, like he’d been waiting all day for it. Which he had.

The arm around your waist tightened as he craned his neck to meet you halfway. He tasted vaguely of the soap he’d used to clean his face but it wasn’t unpleasant. You hummed against his lips in approval which only spurred him on, his tongue now licking into your mouth. You let your hand card through his hair before sliding it down onto his cheek again, to keep his face close to yours even when you broke apart to breathe. Your connected hands swung lowly by your sides, his fingers twitching against yours and tangling them further together.

You pulled away from him, breathless, and lifted your joint hands. “Can I ask about the gloves? It’s just I noticed that you kept them on when we did the ring exchange. It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me.”

“Oh, right.” He looked down at his hand, specifically to where his new wedding ring was sitting over the top of the leather. “I don’t know really. I’ve always just liked them.”

You hesitated before answering, taking in the way he was looking at you with pure open honesty, before nodding. “Okay. Would you like to keep them on now?”

Copia shook his head rapidly. “No, I will take them off.”

“You don’t have to.” You assured, not wanting to pressure him in to anything.

“No, I will. And then you can put my ring in its rightful place on my finger. Sì?”

You nodded and stepped back a pace as he slid the gloves from his fingers. You bit back a comment about how his hands were beautiful just like the rest of him and only watched until he looked up at you again. He handed you his wedding ring and offered his left hand out to you.

“You sure? No backing out after this.” You joked.

He chuckled. “I think I signed that right away when I said ‘I do’.”

You hummed and slipped the ring onto his finger, bending down to place a kiss over it once you’d done so. “Ah, perfect. See?”

“Yes, perfect.” He whispered.

When you looked back up you found that he was looking at you. You tried not to swoon.

“Are you going to help me get my dress off now that your fingers are free from leather?” You asked to distract yourself from the way he was looking at you.

“Sì, turn around.”

You did as you were told, exposing your back to him. He unfastened all of the buttons slowly and carefully, being gentle with the fabric of your dress, before exposing the section underneath with all of the ribbons that laced up your dress.

“How long did this take you to put on this morning?” He grunted as he untied the first ribbon and loosened it.

“Too long.” You sighed. “I really needed to pee by the end of it.”

Copia huffed out a laugh, his breath fanning against the back of your neck. “All for me? Amore mio, you shouldn’t have.”

“First impressions matter.” You retorted, letting out a quiet groan of relief once the second ribbon was loosened.

He reflected back on his own thoughts of first impressions only hours previously. They did matter, he agreed. He paused when you let out another quiet groan. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes.” You sighed. “This dress may be pretty but it sure is uncomfortable.”

“Should have said something. Would have ripped it off you in the ballroom if it was going to make you comfortable.” He pulled more quickly at the next ribbon, eager to get it off you now.

“Would have been a sight for your guests.” You said over your shoulder.

“No, would have got them to leave. My naked wife is not for them to see.”

“Ah, so possessive already?” You giggled quietly.

He leaned forward and placed a kiss on the side of your neck. “Would prefer it if your body was reserved for me only, yes.”

Your eyelids fluttered shut. “It is, don’t worry.”

His hum of approval vibrated against the skin of your neck. “You’re free by the way.”

Your eyes snapped open and you turned to him again, dress falling loosely around you. You clutched at the neckline for a moment, grasping it to keep you covered. “Um, this dress doesn’t really allow for underwear. So I am actually naked underneath this.”

Copia’s eyes darkened as he glanced towards where you were pressing the fabric against your dress. “Do you want me to look away?”

“No, I was just warning you.” You clarified.

“Warning me?” He took a step closer to you, hand lifting to cover your own. “Amore mio, drop the dress. Please.”

There was only a split second of hesitation before you let go and the dress floated to the ground and created a pool of black lace at your feet. Copia tried desperately to keep his eyes on yours but the temptation was too strong. And when he looked down, there was no looking back up again.

He drank you in slowly but ravenously, eyes taking in every inch of your exposed form. When he started babbling words of appreciation to the Dark One, you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore.

“It’s only fair.” You stated before reaching for his own laces at his crotch.

Copia just batted your hand away from him, grabbing you by the shoulders and spinning the two of you around. Before you could ask what he was doing, he slid his hands down to the back of your thighs and lifted you the couple of inches onto his desk.

“Your paperwork-” You started but he cut you off.

“Don’t worry about it.” He huffed and kissed you again.

You moaned into his mouth when he started pawing at you, hands gliding over your body and squeezing at the handfuls of flesh he was finding. He seemed to be doing it more for his own enjoyment than yours. But you didn’t care, happy that he was just appreciating your body.

Your hips jumped forward when his clothed pelvis met yours, a mewl tumbling from your mouth at the friction. Copia took note of that and hooked an arm around the back of your ass and scooted you forward towards the edge of the desk.

“Did that feel good?” He asked and smiled when you nodded enthusiastically. “Hm.”

He bucked his hips towards yours again, using his hand at the small of your back to guide you closer to him and encourage your own movements. You whimpered into his mouth, desperate for more. It felt good but you needed more. You needed him.

“Copia…” You whined, hoping to get the idea across.

“I know, amore mio, I know.” He huffed, shrugging his jacket off of his shoulders. “Can you get the buttons on my shirt please?”

Your hands flew to unfasten it as quickly as possible, not questioning why he wasn’t doing it himself. Not until one of his hands drifted from your waist to your inner thigh at least. You paused momentarily, toes curling, when his thumb brushed against your clit. Watching your reactions closely, Copia did it again.

You cried out, forehead dropping to meet his chest. “Please.”

“Please what, amore mio? Tell me, hm?” He kissed the top of your head gently to encourage you, the confidence he had when performing as Papa now helping him take charge now.

“More. Please more.” You didn’t have the words to describe what you needed.

But he knew. He lifted your head with his free hand, kissing you again, before rubbing a tight circle against your clit with his thumb. The noise you made cemented what he already knew. So he did it a few more times before re-angling his hand to slide a finger inside of you.

It felt so good that you bit down on his bottom lip by accident.

“Ah, fuck, I’m sorry.” You grumbled against him.

“No apologies necessary.” He replied softly, pulling his finger back out before pumping it back in again. This time joined with a second one.

Your eyes closed in pleasure, head dropping backwards and legs circling around the backs of his.

“Amore mio, you didn’t finish with my shirt.” He reminded you in a playful tone.

Your eyes shot open again, your hands racing to get the last of the buttons undone and the garment off of him. When it was done, pushed off his shoulders, slid down his arms, his hand momentarily retracting from you to get it fully off and on the floor, you immediately leaned forward and started exploring his chest with your mouth. You kissed, you licked, you sucked, you bit, you were insatiable. Copia enjoyed your enthusiasm.

So he doubled down in his own actions, pumping his fingers into you at an even faster speed, thumb circling your clit even harder. And soon enough it had you crashing over the edge and collapsing backwards on the desk, back flattening against the piles of paperwork.

Copia licked his hand clean, sucking your essence from his skin, with a satisfied hum. He then finished undressing himself, having no trouble with his own laces, before grabbing your hips to get your attention.

You lazily lifted your head, shooting straight up when you saw what he’d been hiding between his legs. “Are all Papas this hung?”

He barked out a laugh. “Yes, it’s a requirement for the position.”

You watched as he pumped himself a few times before stepping forward and running his tip through your folds, gathering your slick to lube himself up. Your jaw hung open the whole time.

Copia rested a hand on your cheek to get your attention again. “Amore mio, are you ready?”

You nodded at him. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

He slid into you with ease, face falling to meet your shoulder as you swallowed him in. He groaned lowly at the feeling, you were so warm and wet and felt so good. You made your own desperate sounds next to his ear that he couldn’t even take a moment for himself, too eager to please you. So he pulled back out slowly before thrusting in again. Your hands flew to his back, keeping him near as your nails scratched into him. He didn’t care.

Lifting his head to see the two of you meeting between your bodies, he noticed that you were doing the same thing. He couldn’t stop himself from kissing you when you made eye contact. Thoughts ran wild through his head, wondering how’d he been lucky enough to be granted you as his mystery wife. The universe must have messed up somehow, right? No, it hadn’t. Because here you were. On your wedding night. And he was inside of you as you kissed.

The kiss made mobility difficult but neither of you wanted to pull away. Copia had an arm around your waist to keep you steady and a hand on the back of your head to keep you close. You, on the other hand, just clung onto him like your life depended on it. His hips snapped backwards and forwards at a fast pace to keep the friction going but not too harshly as to disturb the meeting of your mouths. Your tongue licked into his mouth hotly and Copia could taste the desire on you. It reflected what he already felt in himself.

“Close.” You managed to gasp out during a break for oxygen.

But Copia knew that, he could tell by the way you were clenching around him. So he didn’t switch up the pace, just kept going with what he knew felt good for you. And soon enough, he had you falling over the precipice again.

He wasn’t far behind, hips rutting forward frantically a few more times before he pulled out and spilled himself over your thighs and the stacks of paperwork you were sitting on.

You giggled tiredly at the sight and looked up at him. “It’s our wedding night and we didn’t even make it to the bed.”

He hadn’t even realised that, glancing over at his large bed with fresh sheets. “We still have time.”

The fatigue washed away at that answer. “Oh?”

Copia offered a hand out to you. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up first.”

You took his hand and hopped off the desk, following him into the bathroom where he washed your thighs off. After that, Copia led his wife to your shared bed where he planned to keep you for the foreseeable future.

A/N: me staring at the title of this fic knowing full well I already have an Obi-Wan fic titled “Absolution”. It bothers me a little but not enough to come up with a new title since this one took me almost as long to come up with as it took me to write the fic itself.

[citruslullabies]

Catnap X reader

I've got this idea from another author, perhaps the reader is getting too attached to one of the mini catnaps? They spend their time cuddling the little rascal instead of him and he decides to make his displeasure noticed albeit in his own way.

Oh hey, I love that author! Bumblehoneybee is one of my favorites<3

Trigger warnings: none

Romantic/platonic: neutral (unspecified)

Requested by: anonymous

Category: fluff

Ship (romantic or platonic): catnap x reader

Word count: 565

Cat Fight

After having redeemed Catnap, you were left to depend on him and for him to depend on you with the little things. Whether that be warmth or cuddles, or defenses, you two always had each other's back in the dark and gloomy place. Catnap just like any cat, loved you and saw you as his person.

And that's why you're in the pickle you're in now. A little smiling critter of Catnap had been spying on you before finally walking up to you while meowing its little head off like a banshee. You looked down at the oddly friendly creature and gasped, smiling and kneeling down to pet it in which it gladly accepted. “Awh! You're so cute!” You cooed to the rather prissy and affectionate feline.

Catnap was just coming back from finding food while Poppy and Kissy Missy were busy looking for routes in the place to keep going, happily coming back expecting your praise but was greeted with basically a smack to the face. He set the food and water down and let his ears fall flat, slowly slinking over to you and staring at the tinier version of himself. “..Mouse, why is this.. thing here?”

The larger feline was not at all happy with this, staring down at the smaller version of him. All of your attention was going onto this cheap little declawed copy of him and he didn't appreciate it.

“Catnap, just look at how cute it is! Hmm..” you thought for a moment, before plucking the little kitty into your arms and feeling your heart melt at the feeling of it nuzzling against you and wrapping its tiny paws around your neck. Catnap let out a low growl as he thought about swatting the little creature out of your arms, but refraining from doing so.

“Ugly little thing..” he hissed despite looking like it, displeased as he picked the food back up to continue moving. Kissy Missy was silent as always when they returned, judging the small cat while Poppy made a few comments here and there but ultimately decided it was fine if it was friendly. The entire walk you were just cradling and cooing at the little cat before you decided on a name, gently pressing your nose against its tiny one. “I'm gonna name you.. Cleocatra!” You said, earning a weirded out look from the larger feline and a purr from Cleocatra. But he said nothing.

When tiredness finally overcame your senses, he was more than happy to get cozy on the floor as you set the cat down despite its screaming protests. He wrapped his tail around your form and gently kneaded at your shoulder, being completely at peace before being disrupted by meows and little paws standing on him. He opened his eyes only to be greeted with a tiny Cleo that was pouty and trying to snuggle in-between them, to which Catnap grabbed it by its scruff and set it down away from the both of you. You spent all day with the little fucker, it was his turn.

But the tiny cat just kept pushing until catnap hissed at it, being quiet so he wouldn't wake you up despite your stirring. The little cat huffed and walked off, flicking its tail at Catnap as if it was a middle finger and snuggling up on top of your backpack instead.

Little shit.

Thank you for requesting!

[concorp]

Hey, you made a post that third (or so) hermits are disabled, but people talk only about Scar, can you please ellaborate?

I don't watch many hermits, and the only thing I can assume is that Grian has ADHD (just a hunch from his videos), but please tell me more! I am eager to learn /gen

Grian has never mentioned adhd. however he has spoken of very severe anxiety and panic attacks.

what prompted my post was the post i reblogged before it, where Skizz mentions having MS (multiple sclerosis). he’s been diagnosed since his early 20s.

Xisuma has dyspraxia, which affects motor skills and coordination, and also sometimes speech. that’s much more evident in his very old videos.

Jevin has type 2 diabetes and was hospitalized because of symptoms at least once. TFC also had diabetes, idk if he ever said which type, but he had a leg amputated due to it.

Joe has unspecified digestion issues. Cleo has an unspecified chronic condition.

and the maybe? category:

Mumbo has very openly described experiencing an eating disorder. however i genuinely cannot tell if he knows that that’s what it is.

Doc has spoken of occasional lingering issues from injuries when he was younger, from his time as a professional basketball player.

Cub took a break once because he had to have multiple surgeries on his arm, gave no further explanation.

these are all the ones off the top of my head. there’s probably more im not remembering or don’t know.

[milla984]

With Neighbors Like These

Summary: Jack goes away for the weekend and Aaron and Reader can finally have some alone time (inspired by this concept)

Pairing: post season 12 Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Category: smut (NSFW, 18+, MDNI)

TW/CW: kissing, mutual masturbation, moderate dirty talk, penetrative sex, protected sex, established relationship, unspecified age gap, Hotch dealing with parenting issues, Jack is mentioned but not present

Word Count: 2k

The house was unusually quiet as you walked in, leaving your shoes at the entrance to proceed barefoot towards the small office Aaron had arranged for himself with a few retouches to the spare room in the back.

Despite having a key in case of emergencies and whatnot, like a very good neighbor, it was a common decision you’d only use it on specific occasions and mostly when Jack wasn’t around. A single soccer cleat lay abandoned in a corner in the living room; were it to happen on a regular day you knew the mere sight of it would have sparked a fierce argument, but this morning was different. 

The evening before a very concerned father had driven his fourteen-year-old son to the arranged meeting point, camping gear in tow, and Jack was now enjoying a two nights excursion somewhere in the local woods. You had a feeling that, conversely, Aaron wasn’t getting a kick out of the child-free weekend - confirmed by his rapid typing on the keyboard when you knocked on the wooden frame of the French door to catch his attention.

He looked at you and cracked a smile, still too focused on what he was doing. “It won’t take too long. I promise.”  

You dropped your purse under his chair and hugged him from behind, the scent of his aftershave filling your nose with pure delight.

“Feeling lonely, already?” 

“Why?!” he enquired. “I didn’t have to shout five times to turn off that damn videogame, last night… and nobody guzzled down half a gallon of milk directly from the bottle, at breakfast!”

“You’re also worried, I can tell,” you added and he shrugged, defeated, then went back to focusing on the screen.

He’d been working part-time as an FBI consultant for a law firm for about a year and you had never seen him putting his job before his kid: he was an active member of the PTA and even volunteered to chaperone whenever he could (something that many moms and other dads found incredibly hot, without a doubt). If he was working on a Saturday he was a hundred percent desperate for a distraction.

Your palms brushed over his shoulders and a delicate touch soon turned into a proper massage, kneading his muscles through the polo shirt he was wearing. 

“Relax. You’re too tense,” you mumbled. He had only shared a few unpleasant details about his life as a member of the Behavioral Analysis Unit in D.C. before he and Jack moved into the neighborhood; nevertheless, it didn’t take a genius to figure out his former employment as an FBI agent had taken a huge toll on both of them.

“I’m not sure I should have signed that consent form,” he confessed. 

“His entire class is with him and his teachers all have cell phones, nothing’s going to happen. Save for a few mosquito bites,” you replied. “And don’t get me wrong... but aren’t you being just a bit overprotective?!”

“Jack told me the same thing when I said I wanted to think about it. Except, he didn’t phrase it so nicely,” Aaron grinned and shook his head while he rose to his feet. “Sorry, enough with the family issues,” he apologized, “it’s a lovely Saturday morning. Have you got any interesting plans?” 

“I have. And they don’t involve homework,” you declared, and as you pushed his laptop to the opposite side of the desk he locked an arm around your waist, his expression reverting to a serious one.

“... so you’re a bad influence.”

The intimidating attitude he could pull off with a single stare never failed to make your legs turn into jelly. 

You lowered your voice to a purr. “You don’t even kn—”

His soft lips pressed onto yours stopped you mid-sentence. The fact he had a teenage son registered in your mind only as a foggy thought and the power he’d had on you since the instant you saw him jogging around the block was almost inexplicable.

“You’re right, no more homework. How about I take you out for lunch?” he proposed and the warmth of his breath on your skin ignited a fire you weren’t at all convinced you could control. Or would.

You hugged him tight, your bodies finally making contact. “How about we take care of something else, first?”

Aaron’s attitude towards romantic relationships exuded manners and consideration, the portrait of a gentleman from a different era, so the response to your suggestion came as a surprise: he’d always shown a preference for the intimacy of his bedroom, even though his palms stroking over your breasts to make your nipples grow stiff and visible through the fabric was the perfect sign he had no intention of wasting any time to move the action upstairs. 

Your tongues lustfully met in a second kiss, prompting you to let out an excited sigh as you blindly undid and removed his belt before letting it fall on the floor with a loud clunk. You reached for his zipper and he sighed in return but gasped a second later when you gave him a light push that forced him to sit down again. 

“Show me how you do it when we’re not together.”

Aaron’s eyes widened - confusion and stupor at the beginning, then the sheer thrill of the idea lit up his gaze. And made him hard entirely.

He sank into the cushion behind his back to finish unzipping his pants and pulling them down his hips so that his swollen erection was only contained by a thin layer of underwear. 

“You’re just going to watch?” he asked, locking eyes with you. You could have sworn that look alone increased the temperature in the room by a couple of degrees. “Doesn’t seem fair.”

You reached under the flowy dress to roll your panties along your thighs, letting them crumple around your ankles; you sat on the desk and lifted the skirt up to your waist, your feet resting on Aaron’s parted knees. 

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

He swallowed nervously but didn’t miss a movement of your fingers starting to draw circles around your most sensitive spot, guided by the aching tension in your belly; your mouth watered at the sight of his cock whipping free and he noticed, so he took his time to wrap his right hand around it.

You knew how to work his length, moving up and down in slow and long strokes as foreplay, nevertheless witnessing such a handsome man masturbating for you proved to be one of the most lascivious experiences of your life.

“I always think about you when I touch myself…” you confessed, and he held on to your ankle with his free hand while you rubbed your clit. 

“Are you trying to make me lose control?”

You nodded in confirmation and he growled. 

He was now coating his shaft and palm with the leaking precum, using only his index and middle finger to collect some of the slickness and spread it over the bulging head, the exposed glans glistening in the process. That was when he usually begged you to move faster, since his delicate skin was lubricated enough and increased friction meant pleasure - not pain.

“I’m really wet for you,” you teased him, your own desire pooling at your core, but his reaction threw you off balance. 

“Stop, please… stop,” he whimpered, “this is not…”    

His ragged breath made it difficult for him to articulate his words. “I need you.”

You gestured at the purse that was still under his chair and he handed it to you; sharing the house with a teenager meant Aaron had grown accustomed to some of his clean t-shirts randomly disappearing from his drawers and wardrobe, so you both knew nothing out of the ordinary could be hidden among his personal stuff. 

He stared at you, entranced, as you retrieved the small box you’d carried with you and tore one of the foil packages open. 

“A little closer, maybe…?” you joked, and when he stood up you bit your lower lip in anticipation. He kissed you lightly on your forehead as you unrolled the latex down his hardness, then you pinched his chin and smiled at him.

“Better?!”   

He whined again. “Not exactly.”

You grabbed him by the nape of his neck, speaking softly to his ear. “Make me come. I can’t wait anymore.”

The uninhibited request seemed to have flipped a switch in him: the sound of a pencil holder spilling its content made you laugh as Aaron enthusiastically raised your legs in the air and held them to his chest, so he could start rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your folds.

It was torture but he was damn good at it.

When he managed to get himself covered in your arousal he slipped the bulbous head past your entrance. “It’s so big…” you muttered.

Truth be told he wasn’t that well-endowed and you had nothing against it, since you’d never been keen on painful sex, still you welcomed him with a loud moan once he buried himself inside of you. Even a gentleman from another era didn’t mind a bit of flattering and appreciation of his manhood. 

He wasn’t as vocal, though, but his deep groans reverberated in his throat in a manifestation of primal, untamed passion; he looked so solemn it drove you insane, his brows furrowed and tiny droplets of sweat trapped between his short hair, almost as if he was directing all of his energies into screwing your brains out.

When his thrusts grew slower but more intense you wriggled your legs free and locked them around his waist: with a last, fierce grunt he twitched several times and you closed your eyes to enjoy the moment, which was always the biggest turn-on for you.

With your eyes still closed you welcomed the pressure on your lips, a not-so-subtle invitation to take his index and middle finger in your mouth; you sucked on them alternately, happy to oblige, tasting traces of the salty precum. You clawed at his forearm when he brought the wet digits to your clit, rubbing and drawing circles just like you’d shown him before.

“Aaron… I’m…” you mewled, grabbing a fistful of his hair as you - indeed - came with his throbbing cock still inside you, lungs pleading for air and inner muscles clenching around him.

He collapsed on top of you, the additional weight making you realize how harsh the desk’s smooth surface was on your back, yet you cupped his face and stroked his flustered cheeks with your thumbs. 

“I missed you so much,” you breathed out as soon as you were able to.

He pulled out and started to fix his clothes, and before he got rid of the condom he planted the sweetest kiss on your lips. “I’m sorry about the other weekend. Jack wasn’t supposed to play, last minute change of plans—”

“Don’t be sorry, I know you love going to his games,” you said, propping up on one elbow to straighten yourself as he stood in front of you. “Besides, you wouldn’t want to disappoint your biggest fans, would you?”

He was still heaving a little and looked at you with a pensive pout. “... what?!”

“I mean, you’ve seriously never noticed…?” you locked your hands behind his neck as you tried to come up with a good imitation of the cooing voice of the soccer moms who you knew swarmed the sidelines every time he was present.

“Aaron, can you help us move the coolers? Aaron, we need to rearrange those chairs! Aaron, come here and have some cake! We made it for you ‘cause you’re such a good dad and it’s soooooo hot!”

He laughed, the vibrations in his ribcage making your breasts jiggle, then he gave you his best smile to date. “You’re jealous?!”

You shrugged, holding him closer. “No. To be honest I don’t even blame them, you are a good dad. Which is very hot, by the way.”

“Thank you,” he laughed again as he wrapped you in his arms to kiss you one more time, forcing you to close your eyes and get lost in his tender embrace. You muffled a surprised gasp when he playfully nipped at your earlobe with another heart-stopping smile. 

“But just to be clear…” he added, his voice dropping to a whisper, “it’s usually cookies, not cake!”

NB: I don't really have an Aaron Hotchner fic taglist 'cause I usually write about Spencer Reid but if you wish to be tagged in future Hotch-centric works (SFW or not, who knows?) you can either send me an ask or leave a comment below.

[nikadd]

poll for my fellow readers of both fanfic and regular literature

NOTES:

not including multiple narrators as a separate category because the story can still utilize either first or third for each of the narrators.

purposefully excluding omniscient 3rd person for this specific poll, because i wanted to see specifically the preference for a point of view that comes from a character rather than an unspecified, omniscient source.

don't care abt 2nd pov

also i don't care abt stuff like "if it's written well" or "depends on the fandom". just say "no preference" if you feel like you don't have a strong enough opinion on pov

[dev1lm4n]

winter coat

read pt. 2 offering here!

pairing: jackson-era!joel miller x f!reader

summary: in which you gave a blowjob to trade for a winter coat back in the dark days, little do you know, that same guy is now your neighbor.

warnings: explicit (18+), details of blowjob, prostitution, unspecified age gap.

word count: 1.3k

notes: this is my first time writing a proper fic so im so sorry if i fucked things up ^^

The last time you saw that man was from a rather precarious point of view. A sight in which only a selected few could indulge in, perhaps several of his actual lovers from the old world and a line of nameless whores from the new world. You in particular fall in the nameless whores category, which sounds faintly depressing if you were to go into detail, but it's not the worst thing per say. You'd say that it's a fair trade for a winter coat.

An incredibly warm winter coat that's fucking lined with actual padding and not the shitty fraying kind either. To add on to that, it comes in a pretty periwinkle shade. Frigid temperatures, brisk winds, and snow wouldn't be as agonizing with the new addition. It's not a terrible view either, especially if you were to focus more on the little things happening all around you in contrast to the elephant in the room.

Your blown out pupils somehow managed to make out the figure that's standing in front of you, hazily focusing on one thing before searching for another to be interested in. First point of interest being the beads of sweat that's dribbling down his jugular vein, following each and every curves of his clavicle until it dipped all the way down his sun-kissed skin and onto the thick of his flannel. He's always wearing flannels. You're not sure if that's some sort of fashion choice he made or if it's just a consequence to the fucked up new world order.

Either way, your interest made it's way upwards towards the scruff patch right around his jaw. Right underneath the thin line of grimace he wore. How he bit his curved lip, sandwiching it between his canines before letting out what seems to be a deep groan. Was it of blissful pleasure or of annoyance that you weren't enveloping his cock further than he desired? You couldn't decide just yet when your glossy eyes flickered towards his eyes.

His gaze was penetrating the air all around you, if that was even possible to begin with. It's dull and tired as if he hadn't slept for days on end. Crow's feets provided what you felt was a sweet decoration on each corners of his half-lidded eyes. He's furrowing, the small wrinkles between his eyebrows and the broader ones on his forehead scrunched up just the right amount. You'd chalk up that he's a lot older than you. Probably has seen how jolly life was like before humanity went under. You were having the time of your life scrutinizing his every delectable features when you could feel yourself being pushed even further against the thick of his cock.

Enough that your nose is grazing right where his shaft ends. Enough to have you breathless and moaning against his warm tip. He's getting rougher and way more sloppy you think. The sloshing noises grew lewd and deafening. A drop of pre-cum trickled down the ends of your gaping lips, smeared onto the polyester of your lengthy shirt. Arousal steamed your vision and clouded your hearing. He was heavy against the base of your tongue, but you're not in any position to complain. Not when you're willingly kneeling for him, letting him fuck your throat with wild abandon, just for you to trade with a nice pair of winter coat.

That man is now standing in front of you once again and you're about to loose it. This time, he's only showing glimpses of his ruggedness from behind a comically large front door. His glare traveled with unnerving thoroughness. Up and down, left to right, as if deciding whether or not you're a threat to the integrity of his house. Everything in your pretty little mind is telling you to bolt out of his front doorstep. Erase the trail that you've left in the chilly white snow. Trade back the flours, eggs, and chocolate you picked up on the market. Forget you've ever thought of showing some odd version of hospitality by baking soft cookies for the new neighbors. But you stood there, frozen.

A puff of air escaped your lips as you opened it ever so slightly to come up with an excuse, to churn up every last bit of your courage to greet him. To greet Joel Miller who you used to whore yourself up to earn a few more ration cards, a few more jackets and socks, or maybe some moonshine to drown your pathetic life with.

He took a step forward, out of the shadow and into an array of orange emitted from the afternoon sun. You thought that perhaps he's decided that you're either pretty enough to entertain or dumb enough not to be a hassle. You couldn't be certain, but he sure has the same ol' grimace accentuating the bows of his lips. God. He even still had those pretty curly locks that came hand in hand with his eyes, even when it's greying on multiple ends. You could even swear that he still had on the same flannel that he used when you blow him for a winter coat. He's still.. handsome no matter how many years passed by. Your homemade cookies shook in its basket as you staggered backwards, maintaining a healthy distance that your pounding heart could tolerate.

Maybe if you rationalize this, things will start being okay. Maybe this situation isn't as bad as you think it is. Maybe.. maybe he forgot who you were. He's dealt with whores of your kind every day of the week, right? You're almost one hundred percent sure that you're not the first and definitely not the last gal to use their bodies as a currency in this fucked up apocalyptic world. So, logically speaking, he shouldn't have remembered any of their faces. He shouldn't have remembered your face.

Unfortunately for you, Joel Miller doesn't work by the logics and he's here calling you out by your real name. It rolled off his tongue like thick honey. Smoothly, but with just enough caution. He used the version that you've only told a handful of people, even when you're in the safe embrace of Jackson. The version that you don't remember telling him, but apparently you did in the midst of doing unspeakable things with him. You were aghasted. Realization hit you like a truck, but what absolutely demolished your sanity was the fact that he remembered even after all these years. He remembered the name of the whore he's fucked.

"Hi," you squeaked out. "Hello," he parroted out an equally dry greeting, almost as if he's mocking how much tension grew between the two. You swallowed the liquid bile that's piling up in your trachea, only then are you able to bring your hand forward to offer a stupid basket of cookies. Stupid because you've done little to none research on who your new neighbors was and thought that chocolate chip cookies were a good gift to a smuggler. Joel Miller was all things at once, but never a cookie guy. "I see you're still wearin' that coat." Joel reached over for the basket you've presented, craddling the stiff handle with his large calloused fingers. You knew exactly what he's talking about.

You're still wearing that damned periwinkle winter coat you traded for. The same one you've sucked his cock for like years ago. You turned pink at the thought, embarassed and mortified. It's not like you didn't get a chance to earn new winter equipments here in Jackson. It's just that nothing ever came close to how soft the padding on this damned coat is. "Yeah." You nodded. "Still warm." That's all you had to offer to him, before you trudged back hastily into your doorstep. Clumsily shutting the door close, while he continued to watch from a distance.

Curious.

[jonquilyst]

Total Drama Sims: Season 2

That's right, baby! We're back. Is your teenaged sim bored and wanting something epic and awesome to do to spend their summer? Does your teenaged sim want a brush of fame and notoriety? Well, you've come to the right place. Total Drama Sims, the freshest, awesomest reality show on simblr, is back for a 2nd season, and I'm ready for you all to send 14 more teenagers to compete in crazy, wacky challenges (safety/lack of danger not guaranteed) in pursuit of the grand prize!

WHAT'S NEW THIS SEASON?

To keep things fresh, TDS2 will be set in a new location and will have new gameplay mechanics! TDS has claimed an abandoned film lot in Del Sol Valley because this season, our challenges will be based off of movie genres, just like the 2nd season of TDS's inspiration!

As for our new gameplay mechanics, TDS2 will be introducing a double elimination (two people are eliminated rather than one), a team swap elimination (someone is eliminated, but instead of leaving the game, the eliminated person joins the other team), and purge challenges (instead of a vote, the worst-performing contestant of a challenge is automatically eliminated) to mix things up and keep the game interesting!

I am primarily looking for people who did NOT participate last season, or their sim got out early. However, everyone may still participate! I just want as many people as possible to get a chance to have their sim play 💖 A lot of people were interested last time and unfortunately spots filled up so fast that some people weren't able to participate because of it (That being said, to promote transparency, I am now REQUIRING RESERVATIONS! That means if you want to participate, you MUST contact me before submitting your sim. You can do this by DM'ing me or sending an ask).

Read on for a refresher on what this competition is all about and UPDATED submission rules (so if you had a sim compete last season, make sure to read them again!)

THE GIST:

This competition is, obviously, based off of the Total Drama series (a show that’s near and dear to me), but you do not need any background knowledge of this show to participate! The show (and this competition) functions similarly to a Bachelor Challenge, where contestants will be routinely eliminated until there is a sole winner.

This competition will also focus on the contestants building relationships with each other (hence the drama part, which is bound to happen when you put 14 teenagers together!)

SUBMISSION RULES:

Reservations for spots are first-come-first-serve. If for any reason you'd like to give up your reservation, contact me ASAP so I can give that reservation to someone else!

Your sim must be a teen

If you had a sim compete last season, you may not resubmit that same sim. I'm looking for an all-new cast!

No occults; contestants must be human only (to prevent unfair advantages)

Contestants must not have high-level skills (they can have some level of skill but nothing above lvl 5; also to prevent unfair advantages)

Any amount and type of CC is fine, just make sure to include it when you send your sim over to me ^^

Only one outfit per category please

Must be okay with slight changes in sims' appearances (as I may use different mods/presets than you do)

Must be okay with me writing dialogue for your sims (for confessionals (example from last season here). I read all entries down to the word and will try my very best to keep everyone in their intended character)

Must be okay with the possibility of your sim entering romantic relationships with other sims (PLEASE SPECIFY THEIR SEXUALITY/ROMANTIC ORIENTATION. Sims with unspecified sexualities/romantic orientations will be assumed to be pan). Nothing NSFW will be shown or mentioned, as of course I'll be portraying minors, but please let me know if you don't want your sim to enter any romantic relationships!

Please give your sims a backstory. The more detailed the better. Describe what they're like, why they're competing on Total Drama Sims, etc.

Your sim can have any traits/aspirations

HERE IS HOW THE COMPETITION WILL WORK:

The 14 contestants will be split into 2 teams of 7

The 2 teams will compete in challenges in attempt to win invincibility (safety from being voted off). The losing team will have to vote someone off (the winning team will not be part of voting)

This process continues until 7 contestants remain. Afterwards the teams dissolve and everyone competes individually (this is known as merge). This means that only 1 contestant can win invincibility; everyone else will be at risk for elimination

When merge occurs, all eliminated contestants at that point will be eligible to rejoin the game through a special challenge. The winner of that challenge will rejoin the game (bringing the number of contestants back to 8)

This process again continues until 2 contestants remain. In the finale, all eliminated contestants will vote for a winner

Challenges will occur half the time. The other half of the competition will be socialization days, where contestants are free to socialize with each other as they please

The competition will start with a socialization day first to establish relationships before the first challenge

If the numbers between teams get too uneven, then a team swap will occur to one random contestant on the larger team

Voting will be determined by relationship dynamics and how everyone did in the challenge. Contestants who do poorly are more likely to get voted. Contestants who have a negative relationship with each other are also more likely to get voted. Conversely contestants who have a positive relationship with each other are less likely to get voted. The contestant with the most votes at the end is eliminated. All of this will be determined by a spinner (in case of a tie I will use a random number generator to determine who’s out). This will also determine who wins at the end of the competition.

REWARD FOR THE WINNER:

This competition is mostly for the funsies, but whoever wins this competition will personally receive an actual reward from me! You have a choice between the following options:

Discord Nitro for 1 month

A tumblr badge

NO DEADLINE! Submissions will close when all 14 spots are filled/reserved. Please provide your sim's tray files as soon as convenient! (Lmk if you need help with this. I will teach you if you don't know how!)

I will be updating the number of spots reserved periodically and will announce when all 14 spots are taken, but if you're ever unsure, don't be afraid to DM me/send an ask!

That should be it! Please comment, DM me, or send an ask if you have any questions, and feel free to reblog or share this with anyone who might be interested in participating!

[revenant-coining]

Shapeshiftsen

(pt: Shapeshiftsen /end pt)

Shapeshiftsen; a dimensen term connected to shapeshifting and/or shapeshifters/being a shapeshifter!

points; 7 (5 (base) +2 (non-gender))

etymology; shapeshift, sen

coinfight attack for @voidcoining!

tagging; @radiomogai, @rescanwriter, & @coinfight

[jesuistrestriste]

The other posts before just kink shaming people. Calling people weirdos and creeps and that the authorities should be called and some how writing men squirting, "because its not biologically possible" is in the same category as well like damn have abit of whimsy

helloo !

so i guess a user who follows me, or used to follow me, is posting on their acc snippets of my work and talking about how im weird and gross (as well as some other unspecified challengers writers) bc i wrote about ‘puppy’ stuff and ‘men squirting’. they blurred out my user but my writing was directly referenced.

they basically likened the puppy play stuff to sexualizing real animals, and said that it was also creepy to write about men squirting bc it’s not ‘biologically possible’

i don’t wanna make this into a big deal, bc it’s genuinely not, but i’m responding to it to hopefully give this individual some clarification and also to defend the users who actually enjoy this type of kink content (bc i do too)

so. first of all — puppy play. i, for one, in the particular drabble they screenshotted, do not have the reader treating art like an actual dog. the reader only calls art ‘puppy’ and he is submissive. those are literally the only two things involved that are similar to puppy play. however, many people enjoy/write about other more direct aspects of puppy play, like collaring and leashing and etc, and that does NOT mean they like sexualizing real animals. it is NOT bestiality. i’m going to assume that the user in question who likened it to bestiality is not informed on what puppy play actually is/represents, and just took the concept of calling someone ‘puppy’ = sexualizing dogs and ran with it. that’s definitely not what it is, and i certainly was not writing it that way. for many, puppy play is simply about the power dynamics of it all. do i enjoy puppy play in its entirety? no, not really (i like certain bits and pieces), but i respect those who do. it also goes without saying that i do not advocate for or support the sexualization of real animals in any way shape or form ..? that’s disgusting.

— more info below the cut —

second of all — squirting. men squirting is possible, just the same as how women squirting is possible. if you don’t believe me, look it up on pornhub lol; it’s definitely possible. to my knowledge, the anatomical/bodily processes that allow someone to squirt are the exact same ones involved in. well. peeing. like. if you can pee, you have the anatomy necessary to be able to squirt. i’m mid-writing this and i can’t believe im talking in depth about what squirting is and how it works. help. but yea, is squirting = pee ? no. no, it’s not (controversial lol). but even if it was, some people are into that. no need to yuck someone else’s yum. you’re entitled to your opinion though. if you don’t enjoy it/understand it and think it’s ‘creepy’, that’s cool too ! idc—it’s your life! do what you want !

third of all — i read their post and they also talked about how it’s weird to write about puppy!stuff because some users (i don’t know if they were talking about me in this instance or just some writers on challengers tumblr in general) are writing about ‘real men’ and that these men should be ‘calling the authorities’. i know for me, im not writing about mike faist in a puppy play context. im writing about art donaldson. a fictional man. and i promise you, art donaldson will not be reading my stuff. and for that matter, neither will mike faist. that man wants nothing to do with social media, let alone tumblr (rip to his tumblr era though).

bottom line, kink shaming is not cool. it’s not fun, it’s not kind, it’s not cute, it’s not very demure.

some people use kinks as an escape from harsh aspects of their reality like past trauma, etc. or to process those traumas. that being said, you are 1000% allowed to not like something. that is your business ! but posting about someone’s work and making grotesque claims about their character and what they stand for based on smut writing is very odd. i do not appreciate it !

i am in no way trying to attack/hate on the person who made the posts, but i think it’s important to try to address stuff like this and educate those who may be confused or misinterpreting. to the user who made the posts: i hope you have a good day, and i hope this clears things up ! if you see this and want to talk more about it, my dms are open. all love.

UPDATE: i was just informed that the user in question used to write for (tw) school shooters and apparently cleared all evidence of it from their account except for some lingering tags.

i take it all back ! ! as someone who has experienced the effects of a school shooting + has been in a uni community targeted and affected by an act of gun violence, that is absolutely disgusting, and you can rot ! seek therapy ! :)

[cripplecharacters]

Complex Dissociative Disorders Terminology: A Basic Primer

[Large text: DID Terminology: A Basic Primer]

Here are some common terms you may see when researching complex dissociative disorders! 

Basic Terms

[Large Text: Basic Terms]

Dissociation - An internal feeling of disconnect between one's body, history, thoughts, emotions, memories, acts, and/or environment. Not everyone who experiences dissociation has a dissociative disorder. Dissociation is a common coping mechanism in times of stress. 

Alter - A dissociated part of a personality that failed to integrate into the self due to trauma. These parts may have their own age, gender, needs, wants, sexuality, species, memories, actions, urges, opinions, skills, abilities, etc. 

Fragment - An alter who is not fully “fleshed out” or differentiated. They may have a single function, emotion, or memory. 

System - The entire collection of alters in one body 

Front - The alter who is “in front” or “fronting” is aware of the outside world, and controlling the body. 

Switch - “to switch” is to change what alter is fronting (controlling the body). This can be slow or fast, planned or unplanned, accidental or intentionality. 

Co-consciousness (co-con) - When two or more alters are aware of the outside world they are co-conscious. 

Passive Influence - When an alter who is not currently fronting affects the fronting alter. This can be in the form of memories, thoughts, emotions, desires, preferences, actions, etc. 

Splitting - To split is to create a new alter 

Amnesia - partial or complete loss of memory (not exclusive to CDD) 

Disorders 

[Large text: Disorders]

Complex Dissociative Disorder (CDD) - An umbrella term for all dissociative disorders that cause systems. This list includes Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID), Other Specified Dissociative Disorder Type 1 (OSDD-1), Unspecified Dissociative Disorder (UDD), and Partial Dissociative Identity Disorder (P-DID).

Dissociative Disorder - To quote https://did-research.org/ “a disorder characterized by a separation of consciousness from emotion, sensation, memory, personal history, sense of self, or sense of reality.”  

Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) - DID is characterised by two or more dissociative self-states "Alters" that are linked to some degree of amnesia and are capable of assuming executive control. 

Other Specified Dissociative Disorder Type 1 (OSDD-1) - OSDD-1 is a disorder that is very similar to DID but lacks fully differentiated selves (type 1a) or amnesia (type 1b). OSDD in general is a category of dissociative disorders that while not fitting the criteria for any other dissociative disorder, can still be specified. 

Unspecified Dissociative Disorder (UDD) - A category of disorders that can not be labeled, or are unable to be fully understood. This diagnosis is most often applied in crises or emergencies.

Partial Dissociative Identity Disorder (P-DID) - As outlined by the International Classification of Diseases is a condition similar to DID where “One personality state is dominant and normally functions in daily life, but is intruded upon by one or more non-dominant personality states (dissociative intrusions).” Essentially one alter is always in front, but they regularly experience passive influence or co-consciousness. 

Multiple Personality Disorder (MPD) - This is a former term for DID. The name was changed because DID is not a personality disorder, it’s a dissociative disorder. Many people today find this term insensitive, outdated, and offensive, although some systems may choose to self-identify with the term. 

The Theory of Structural Dissociation (TOSD)

[Large Text: The Theory of Structural Dissociation (TOSD)] 

This is the current understanding of how dissociative disorders as well as other disorders caused by trauma are formed and function. To quote https://did-research.org/ “this theory centers around an inability to integrate traumatic memories and materials into one’s primary personality, sense of self, and self history that results in an overall inability to integrate parts.” 

To learn more about anything referenced above I would recommend checking out https://did-research.org/

Thanks, Mod Patch

[citruslullabies]

Hello! So this is my first time ever doing a request so I hope it’s good! But could you do Dogday x Reader/Angel, where Angel gets injured really badly and ends up getting impaled by metal and ends up needing to get the metal ripped out and sewn up?? Maybe dogday could comfort the reader during it?? I’m so sorry if that’s too much!! Okay that’s all really have a nice day/night!

Of course sweetie!

Trigger warnings: blood, injury, near-death experience

Romantic/platonic: unspecified

Requested by: anonymous

Category: angst + fluffy end

Ship (romantic or platonic): Dogday x injured!reader

Word count: 518

Angelic Wounds

Dogday was forever in your favor, you were his angel and his light. His dreams and his hope, he would be absolutely crushed if anything happened to you.

He was a little ways away from you, hesitant due to a gut feeling but separated so he could scrounge up whatever scarce food there was in this place for you, Poppy, Kissy Missy, and himself but he was more so looking for you three. He found a few things, he got lucky and they were in cans. One of them he was a little scared to bring back since he could tell one of the small ones got its grimy little teeth sunk into it.

The canine was storing the cans in a dingy little bag he found, leaving the busted one to thenside to just hold with his paw in case it was still any good. Couldn't be too picky when you were desperate to survive. He was peaceful until his ears practically shot off his head when he heard a scream that sounded like a bobcat, quickly looking up and looking in the direction it came from. Was it… no it couldn't be you. Right? You always handled yourself so well, it couldn't be you - but it was. He knew it and ran hot on his heels to get to you.

He found you on the floor, sobbing your eyes out with a piece of metal through your arm. You were trying to pry it off but it was heavy and deep, much to you and Dogday’s dismay. Your companion ran over to you in a hurry, panicking and holding you close. “Angel!?” He asked, looking at your arm and carefully resting his paw below the wound. “What happened!?”

“I- I don't know! It just… it just fell out of nowhere and I didn't move in time-” You said, struggling through hiccups and sobs. He nodded and understood that accidents were bound to happen, he carefully went through your backpack and got some bandages. With love and care, he tended to you just as you tended to him once before. He stitched you up, despite your cries and blood touching his fur breaking his heart he persevered and fixed you up before bandaging the stitches. He held you tightly.

While you cried from the pain, he couldn't help but cry too. He cried knowing he could have lost you if he wasn't any faster, but he also cried knowing that if he had stayed with you and listened to his gut to stay near this wouldn't have happened. He carefully rubbed you back while sitting back and having you in his lap. He never wanted to feel your blood against his paw pads, never wanted to see you cry in pain and agony while desperately trying to escape the feeling like a hopeless cat turned into road pudding.

“Shh.. shh.. Angel, it's okay. It's okay now. I'm here, and I'm not leaving you alone.” He cooed, pressing his head against yours with his big floppy ear scrunched between your faces.

A wounded angel could still fly, luckily.

Thanks for requesting!

[wheelie-sick]

Explaining dysphagia

Dysphagia is simultaneously a symptom and a diagnosable condition. Most people think of it (if they think of it at all) as the choking on food disease but in reality it's much more complicated than that.

There are four categories of dysphagia: oropharyngeal, esophageal, esophagogastric, and paraesophageal

only two of those categories (oropharyngeal and esophageal) are commonly used and diagnosed so those are the main two I'll be talking about.

The diagnosis of dysphagia is a fairly complicated process involving a lot of radiological testing and things stuck up your nose and down your throat.

lost the source :(

source

the ICD 10 further divides dysphagia into unspecified, oral phase, oropharyngeal phase, pharyngeal phase, pharyngoesophageal phase, and other dysphagia which includes cervical dysphagia and neurogenic dysphagia

Oropharyngeal dysphagia

Oropharyngeal dysphagia occurs when someone has difficulty initiating a swallow. It's often accompanied by coughing, choking, feeling food stick in the throat, and nasal regurgitation. Other symptoms include frequent repetitive swallows, frequent throat clearing, a gargly voice after meals, hoarse voice, nasal speech and dysarthria, drooling, and recurrent pneumonia.

Oropharyngeal dysphagia is diagnosed with a modified barium swallow and/or a transnasal video endoscopy.

Some of the consequences of oropharyngeal dysphagia include aspiration pneumonia, upper respiratory infections, and weight loss. Common treatment includes rehabilitative swallowing exercises, botox, surgery, and/or a feeding tube.

Esophageal Dysphagia

Esophageal dysphagia is dysphagia where there is a problem with the passage of food or liquids through the esophagus between the upper and lower esophageal sphincter. Esophageal dysphagia is usually a result of abnormal motility in the esophagus or a physical obstruction to the esophagus. Symptoms of esophageal dysphagia vary depending on cause.

Motility: People with esophageal motility disorders will experience problems with swallowing both liquids and solids. Motility disorders consist of abnormal numbers of contractions in the esophagus, abnormal velocity of contractions, abnormal force of contractions, abnormal coordinated timing of contractions, or several of these simultaneously. People with esophageal motility disorders may also experience spasms or chest pain.

Obstruction: People with an esophageal obstruction will have more difficulty swallowing solids than liquids.

Some symptoms of both include pain when swallowing, the inability to swallow, sensation of food being stuck in your throat or chest, drooling, and regurgitation.

Esophageal dysphagia can be diagnosed with a barium swallow, upper endoscopy, esophageal manometry, and an endoFLIP.

Some common treatments for esophageal dysphagia include medication, esophageal dilation, surgery, stent placement, and/or a feeding tube.

Esophagogastric Dysphagia

Esophagogastric dysphagia occurs when there is a problem with material passing from the lower esophageal sphincter into the gastric fundus.

Paraesophageal Dysphagia

Paraesophageal dysphagia occurs when the esophagus is narrowed due to extrinsic compression.

The ICD 10 Classifications

Oral phase - difficulty moving food or liquid to the back of the throat

Oropharyngeal phase - difficulty initiating swallowing

Pharyngeal phase - difficulty swallowing when food or liquid is at the top of the throat

Pharyngoesophageal phase - unable to find information

Other dysphagia- cervical dysphagia (caused by problems with the cervical spine) or neurogenic dysphagia (caused by problems with the central or peripheral nervous system)

Sources

x x x

+ some others I definitely (/sarcasm) didn't lose the link to

[wilsons-hotlittleprettyboymouth]

ngl I kind of hate the term ~neurospicy~ like I know its meant to denote that someones clearly got a touch of unspecified neurodivergence without going into a diagnosis but like. its meant to be so cutesy and quirky that you cant help but KNOW its distancing the funny cool autism and adhd neurodivergencies from the scary mental illness neurodivergencies. they are all the same fucking category but people online treat lovable brands of autism & adhd like they’re worthy of a separatist movement lol. no one uses neurospicy to mean bipolar schizophrenic borderliner etc

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Thunder (S.R.)

Summary: Spencer reminds Reader that they aren’t alone. Request: comfort fic where reader gets unspecific upsetting news and tries to brave through it on her own but spencer finds out and helps her through it + a fic based on “The Fixer” by Brent Morgan. Couple: Spencer Reid/GN!Reader Category: Angst/Comfort Content Warning: Storms, crying, trauma/upsetting news (unspecified) Word Count: 800

MASTERLIST

The thunder comes the same as waves on a rocky shore. Each flash of light is followed by a deafening roar that seems to swallow half the earth. Nature’s rage comes, with crackling wind and spitting rain.

Spencer finds you standing still in your office. You sense someone, but he says nothing. You know it’s him, though.

“When I was younger, I used to be so scared of thunderstorms,” you tell him. “I’ve gotten used to them as I’ve gotten older, but sometimes…”

You gaze upon the scene unfolding before you. Stubborn trees are bent and spent leaves fight against sheets of rain. You watch what feels like the end of the world and it makes your heart break.

“Sometimes I look out at the destruction, and I can’t help but wonder if we’re supposed to be scared,” you whisper with a wavering voice, “Maybe it is divine retribution. Maybe the children are right to be afraid.”

Spencer stays silent for a moment following the troubled monologue. He stands, steeped in the sadness before he takes a step forward and shuts the door.

“Is everything alright?” he asks.

“Oh, you know. Things… happen. They come and they go,” you shrug.

He takes another step forward. If you had anywhere to retreat, you would have. But you are stuck between two equally terrifying options: the storm and the calm that follows it.

“That’s true,” he offers, “but it’s not what I asked.”

You wipe remnants of tears from damp cheeks as you stumble over a response.

“Sorry, what was the question?”

“Are you alright?” he asks again.

It is as terrifying a question as it’s always been.

“Oh, yeah. Yes. I’m fine,” you assure him.  “I’ve always been fine, and I don’t plan on letting that change any time soon.”

But your breath is shaky, and he knows you’re lying.

Again, you try to explain, “I’ve been through worse things than this.”

“What is ‘this’?” he asks.

Your shoulders rise to your ears. You wrap your arms impossibly tighter around yourself. Nails dig into wrinkled fabric that is starting to feel too hot yet not enough to shield you from kind eyes.

“Doesn’t matter,” you laugh solemnly, “It’ll pass, like everything else.”

“It matters to me,” he says.

A flash of lightning rips apart the landscape at the same time you turn with violence on your tongue.

“Stop!” you shout.

The thunder follows. Its rage drowns out the sound of your whimpering cry that immediately follows.

“Please… just stop.”

“Stop what?” he asks with another step closer.

You don’t move away. Through the thick glass, you feel the chill of frozen rain as it clicks against the window.

Your answer is small and said with chattering teeth.

“Stop… caring about me like this,” you mumble. It sounds so pathetic, but you can’t make it more beautiful. Instead, you let the words pour from your mouth while your arms struggle to hold a broken heart together. “You have to stop, because, eventually, I’m going to let you down, and I can’t handle letting you down.”

Spencer lifts a hand towards you. He tries to call your name, but you flinch and jump away.

“Please, Spencer. Just… Just leave.”

For a moment, you think he will. You hear his feet shuffle and close your eyes and wait for him to leave the way they always do.

You hold your breath and wait for the lightning, but it doesn’t come.

Instead, it’s his hands resting against your arms.

“I can’t do that,” he says as he holds back his own tears. “And I’m really sorry, but I can’t. I can’t leave you alone because I know how bad it’ll hurt you if I do.”

With almost no pressure, his hands add weight that breaks through the barrier. Your arms fall limp at your side but he holds onto you, anyway.

“I can’t leave because I know exactly how much it hurts when the only time people listen to you is when you tell them to leave.”

You shake your head.

“I can’t…” you start, but the words get caught in his arms as he throws them around you.

“I can’t do this,” you cry against soft cotton that smells like home.

“It’s okay,” he assures you.

It is terrifying and comforting all at once. Your tears fall like heavy rain and your wails crackle like lightning against something, someone who can bear witness to the storm without wincing.

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispers as the storm clouds start to pass.

“You’re safe,” he promises, “I’m here.”

You collapse against him, and he holds you harder than he ever has before. He hums something gentle, and the words don’t feel like strikes.

Together, unhidden, you wait out the storm.

In that moment, you find a new appreciation for what once felt like the end of the world.

Because even the clouds eventually empty.

Even the thunder eventually fades.

(Tell me what you thought about this fic here!)

Looking for more comfort? Check out my Comfort Challenge Fic Recs + Entries!

Reid Taglist: @mrs-dr-reid , @dreatine , @hopefulfangirl24 , @laurakirsten0502 , @dontcallmekittens , @rintheemolion , @andreasworlsboring101 , @imsuperawkward , @wentz2005 , @lovejules888 , @dashneydanger , @materialisthicc , @violetspoetic , @mslowlife , @conniesanchor , @trippol-threat , @will-byers-needs-a-hug , @poo-tay-toot , @bookobsessedfreak

Complete Taglist: @cynbx , @emsma11 , @mediocre-writer , @fightingdragonswithwho , @andiebeaword , @jayyeahthatsme , @pepperthealien

Thanks for reading!