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fandom-go-round · 18 days ago

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Hello! If you're still taking requests, I'd really appreciate it if you could please write some headcanons about Emmrich, Lucanis, Neve and Bellara dating a Rook who has pretty significant burn scars, particularly on their back, stomach, legs, arms, hands or feet. The scars are healed now, but they still consider them unsightly so they try to cover up as much as possible. I'd love to see your take on their reaction to Rook's scars being revealed to them for the first time.

Burn scars also come with a lot of complications like having to keep them out of sunlight, they often get pretty itchy and since skin regulates body temperature you can get cold super easily if you have significant burns. So if you want to include any of those factors feel free!

As someone who legit cannot be trusted around hot liquids and has scars from 2nd degree burns, I'd appreciate it, but if you don't want to write something like this I understand. Thank you, and I hope your day is going well!

Thank you so much for a Dragon Age request! I had a lot of fun with it!

Warnings: Burns, Talk of Burns, Previous Injuries, Implied Low Self Esteem, Implied Body Issues

Emmrich Volkarin:

As someone who usually wears layers when out and about, Emmrich doesn’t notice right away you’re covered almost always. He thinks of it as a personal style, at least until you’re exposed to the cold. It only takes one instance of fighting a desire demon and your hands to shake so bad you can’t hold your weapon for him to wonder. He won’t ask you of course, especially when Harding asks if you’re alright and you deflect.

The first time he sees your burns himself, Emmrich has a lot of thoughts. He can tell that you’re uncomfortable, not meeting his eyes as you continue to make dinner. It’s the first time he’s seen you in short sleeves and without gloves; you had thought you were alone at the Lighthouse. He wonders where you got the wounds and how but instead, he apologizes for starling you and asks if he can help. You agree to let him help and it takes almost a full hour for the tension to leave your shoulders. Emmrich is happy to wait as long as possible for you to trust him.

The longer the two of you are together, the more you open up about your scars. Emmrich is willing to listen to anything you say and go at your own pace. He’ll go out of his way to buy you embroidered gloves that you adore and has no issues steering the others away from the topic. He’ll hesitate to touch your scars because he doesn’t want to hurt you but once you assure he can touch, he loves kissing your everywhere. Scars are a part of you but they don’t define you.

Lucanis Dellamorte:

He’s one of the first companions to notice, mostly because he has some burns himself. Not as wide spread as yours but Crow training wasn’t kind to him and he sees the way you favor warm over cold and how your legs get itchy after being in Rivani. Lucanis makes sure to cook warm meals and uses ingredients that help with itchiness. He’s a silent supporter from the beginning.

The extent of your scars makes hm angry. He has no way of knowing (at first) where your scars come from and assumes them to be a battle gone wrong. Spite often speaks of hunting the people down who hurt you and he’s inclined to agree. If he finds out the burns are because of an accident he’s going to hover more. If you’re this accident prone he’ll be your silent shadow so you don’t get hurt again. Tell him off if he hovers too much; Lucanis will find something else to help with.

He has no issues touching your scars but will make sure you’re alright with it first. He never wants to make you uncomfortable and watches for your verbal and nonverbal ques. Lucanis will do whatever he can to help you feel better; putting on ointment, buying you new clothing, whatever you’d like. He won’t let anyone talk down to you. He’s protective on a good day and if someone tries to say anything about your scars? His knife is already at their throat.

Bellara Lutare:

Bellara doesn’t realize you have burn scars until you take your coat off, wet from being slammed into the lake. It took her and Davrin combined to pull you out and you’re swearing up a storm as you strip. Davrin just teases you about losing your footing before going to find firewood. Bellara doesn’t catch herself staring until you turn away and she busies getting the camping set out.

She doesn’t bring the scars up until the two of you are alone, checking in. Mostly she wants to make sure you’re not in pain and if you are, she can make burn cream. Someone in her clan had burns like yours that bothered them. You’re surprised by her practical offer and kiss her cheek, thankful for her support. You take her up on the offer, especially when you end up on the coast. The hot air makes you super itchy.

It becomes a habit for her to help you put the burn cream on your back since it’s hard for you to reach. It’s a soft moment inside the normal day to day chaos. Bellara loves that you trust her enough to let her do this and gets to touch you. Her face is red by the end and you tease her but its worth all the teasing to see the soft look in your eyes. Once of these days she’s going to get her nerve to kiss you, she promises!

Neve Gallus:

Neve figured you were using clothing to cover up something. Most people don’t wear as many layers as you and it a toss up between scars or you really are that much trouble. The truth is, as always, a little bit of both. You naturally run cold but it’s more than that. The first time she sees your scars, she’ll admit she wasn’t expecting them. She knows that jobs can go wrong, she just wishes you were luckier.

She won’t talk about the scars unless you bring them up. She understands how it feels for others to judge you based on old wounds; she’s almost punched people because of her leg. Neve does go out of her way to get you warm drinks to hold and buys you long pants as yours get ruined. The detective side of her wants to know how you got the scars but she does her damnedest to keep those thoughts to herself.

Neve can’t help but kiss the scars when she can, almost without thinking. Clothes on or off, she’ll kiss the palm of your hand or rub your shoulder. Let her know if the touching is too much and she’ll back off. She accepts every part of you, scared or not. She likes the flustered look on your face, it isn’t often she throws you off. Neve can and will use it to her advantage.

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werewolfsmile · 10 months ago

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Just watched The Big Bang Job again today and I rambled about this in an earlier post reblog but it deserves its own post..

The way Eliot dresses makes so much more sense after meeting Moreau and his goons. He rejects all notions of being anything like those well dressed men in their suits again. So blank and uniform, just another soldier in Moreau's private army.

That's why his shirt is always untucked, sleeves rolled up, collar unbuttoned. Not to mention the hair - the biggest rebellion is his hair. A constant reminder of who he is now that stays the same, no matter what he wears.

And it just makes me think how this is such a good representation of the identity crisis he went through (and let's be real, is still going through).

Eliot used to be one of those men. He had his hair short, wore the tailored suits and carried the guns. He didn't accessorise. He suppressed every aspect of an individual personality in order to fit the role that Moreau had for him.

Sure, we're not blatantly told all of those things in the show, but we can infer, simply from looking at Moreau's goons and how they're presented.

Seeing Eliot surrounded by those goons in the pool scene is more than just showing us the threat to Eliot and Hardison - and also the threat that Eliot and his reputation present. It's about showing us the demons of his past, the nightmare that he doesn't want to go back to. Eliot had alluded to his past before but it's been nebulous. Now, we finally see that past take shape and it's hideous.

But Eliot didn't stay like that. He got out - he got free - and he has been reclaiming pieces of himself ever since. Until, finally, he's the evolving Eliot that we know and love. He prefers to dress casual and relaxed, with strong reminders of his roots throughout. He keeps his hair long and loose - not military regulation, not 'professional' as far as male standards go, not even convenient for fighting. It's all a way of stealing himself back, and making sure the differences between who he was then and now are stark and vivid.

I could keep rambling but this is already twice as long as I intended. Just ... Eliot Spencer. He still doesn't view himself as a better man, never mind a redeemable man, but he is. When compared to those goons, his transformation is clear as day.

#eliot spencer #leverage #the big bang job #christian kane #my posts #this got away from me a bit #i have so many feelings about eliot and this episode #lmao just like everyone else i'm sure #for the record i adore the way eliot dresses #i'm a country girl through and through so his style is the epitome of fashion to me #don't even get me started on the necklaces #one day i'll make a post about that guitar pick necklace and its significance to him

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marlynnofmany · 10 months ago

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Squishy Cybernetics

“Hello!” I said. “Where would you like this?” I waved an arm at the large pallet of boxes, bags, and miscellaneous other packaging. It was on one of our biggest hoversleds, and accompanied by some of the biggest crewmates.

The Waterwill at the loading gate burbled thoughtfully, sounding like a water jug given sentience. She extended what passed for an arm of her own and pointed indoors. “You’d better bring it all the way in. Over here.” She glided inward, moving in that mysterious way I’d never figured out. Someone shaped like a column of jello had no business scooting forward that quickly, no matter how much their lower end rippled against the floor.

But I didn’t have time for galaxy-gazing; I had to help steer the hoversled. Regulations said we needed someone on all four sides for a load this big, just in case of antigrav mishaps. Didn’t want it slamming into something breakable at this client’s facility — or slamming into anything at all, really, but this place was some sort of high-tech manufacturing plant, and I didn’t want to think about what kind of damage a crash could do.

No mishaps today, though. The Frillian twins paced along on either side, all muscles and tight clothes (they’d left the flowy silks behind today; a solid choice). I couldn’t see Zhee in the back, but I heard the quiet click of his bug feet. My own feet were silent in proper Earth shoes as I tugged the steering handle and followed the Waterwill.

I thought we’d just take the thing to the far side of the big loading dock, unload it in an out-of-the-way spot to be unpacked later. But the Waterwill kept going. We passed hovercars and wheeled carts, storage cabinets and bins, along with a baffling arrangement of pipes along one wall. Windows showed glimpses of the busy manufacturing facility. I had no idea what they were making. Maybe I’d get a better look on the way back out.

Oh hey, a human, I thought in surprise as I passed a bigger window. With a Strongarm on his back? What in the world are they making together? I was already moving past, and could only speculate about intricate manufacturing projects that needed hands and tentacles at the same time.

I was still wondering why the Strongarm hadn’t just pulled up a chair next to the human when the Waterwill signalled me to stop. “Stopping,” I announced for Zhee’s benefit. We all came to a halt, and nobody crashed into anything. Hallelujah.

“Here, please,” the Waterwill said. She stretched her arm out into a long tendril to pick up a scrap of something blue that had fallen on the floor, and pointed at an empty space near several foam-topped tables. “I’m needed out front. Heeme, can you oversee?”

“Sure thing,” said a voice from nowhere, then a Strongarm climbed out from under one of the tables. “Found the last of the broken bits, by the way.” Two of his tentacles were curled around pieces of the same blue stuff the Waterwill had picked up. The blue stood out against the dark red of his skin, but not as much as the four mismatched tentacles on other side did. They were a transparent blue-green much like the Waterwill’s own tendrils. I tried not to stare, and failed.

“Thank you,” the Waterwill said. “I’ll be back in a bit.” She set her broken piece of whatever on the nearest table, then scooted through a door that was apparently soundproofed, because a cacophony of whirs and whooshes filled the air until it closed.

“Right,” I said. “Over here, then.” I steered the hoversled into position, then we all worked together to guide the detachable gravity platform onto the ground. That part always made me nervous, since it looked like the giant pallet that could crush me was floating through the air with just a touch of technological magic to make it go. I understand other models of industrial-sized hoversleds have more mechanical-looking gravity platforms, or regular forklift arms. Ours was the glowy magic kind, and it deposited the giant stack of objects with all the precision of the best fairytale enchantment.

“Perfect,” said the Strongarm. “We’ll unpack it from here. Thanks.”

“Our pleasure,” I said.

Zhee, finally able to see over the hoversled, got a good look at who I was talking to. “Oh, I’m sure you’re fast at unpacking,” he said, pointing with his pincher arm. “Does that model form into blades?”

“Sure does!” the Strongarm said, holding up a see-through tentacle that instantly flattened into a shape like a steak knife. “Good for packaging, stubborn latches, and all manner of other things.”

“And stabbing!” Blop put in, to be immediately shushed by his sister.

“No stabbing on the job,” she told him.

The Strongarm laughed. “Yeah, just respectable tool use. They don’t give these out to anyone who’s going to do violence with them.”

I asked, “Is that Waterwill tech? I haven’t seen one before.”

“Yup.” He turned the knife back into a tentacle, then into a variety of other shapes. “One of the perks of working here, for sure. They’re cagey about sharing tech. This is the best prosthesis I’ve ever encountered.”

I thought of the hard metal-and-plastic replacement limbs that were standard on Earth. They would be wildly out of place on this guy’s squishy octopus body. And no amount of interchangeable attachments would be able to beat this kind of easy shapeshifting. I said, “That looks really useful.”

“It is!”

The loud door opened to admit a wall of sound, along with the human-and-Strongarm pair. Which I realized with a start was actually just a human wearing more transparent tentacles on his back.

“Here’s the new set,” he said to the Strongarm, placing a clear box on the table that was full of a stack of more flat blue things. They appeared to be cut into very specific shapes. I might have been curious about what they were for if not for the much more interesting thing to be curious about.

“Hello,” I said. “Does everyone who works here get extra limbs?”

The tan human grinned. “If they want ‘em! And they pass the screening, of course. But you’ve got to leave them here each day if they’re the bonus kind, as opposed to replacements.”

The Strongarm wiggled his tentacles in a taunting manner. “I can open packages and slice food so easily at home.”

The human made a face and wiggled the tentacles on his back. “Yeah yeah, we’re all jealous. Someday I’ll convince the bosses that there’s an actual market for these, and I’ll be the first in line to buy my own.”

“They think there isn’t?” I asked in shock. “Those look so useful! I can’t list the number of times I’ve wished for more hands. Using teeth and feet only goes so far.”

Zhee made a disparaging hiss. “You have that many fingers, and still want more? Greedy.”

“I’m just saying that re-weaving a cargo net would go much faster if I could hold all of the fibers at once,” I told him, then turned to the Frillians. “Back me up. Two arms just isn’t enough sometimes, right?”

Blip and Blop looked at each other and shrugged. “I guess?” Blip said. “But that’s just when it’s time to get another person to help.”

Zhee clicked a pincher. “Exactly so. Or approach the problem differently.”

The human told me, “I’ve had this conversation more than once. Apparently not all species grow up imagining what it’s like to have bird wings or monkey tails or whatnot.”

“Surely other people want to fly,” I said. The expressions around me were dishearteningly blank. “Surely!”

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” the human said. “See why I couldn’t convince the bosses?”

“But even on a practicality standpoint!” I exclaimed. “They have you using them here; why wouldn’t they think you’d want to use them at home?”

He shrugged, moving the tentacles in a graceful wave as he did. “Alien brains. I’ve given up trying to fully understand.”

The Strongarm spoke up. “If there are actually a large number of humans who would buy these, then it couldn’t hurt to put together a request from outside sources. The bosses don’t listen to random employees who are probably biased, but they might take an interest in actual buyers.”

I shook my head slowly. “Our courier ship isn’t going to be that kind of buyer, especially not at the scale they’d probably need.”

“What about big human ships?” Blip asked. “We could suggest it to the next one we meet.”

“Or human colonies,” Blop said. “Or large groups at space stations.”

Zhee said, “I heard Captain Sunlight talking about a delivery to Basal Station soon. There are plenty of humans there. You could suggest it to them, if you think this is really that widespread an interest.”

“It couldn’t hurt,” I said, thinking. There was indeed a significant human population on that space station, which might even include the crew I’d met from the droid jousting ship Hold My Beer. They were definitely the type to appreciate some extra arms. Both for working on finicky electronics and general slapfight shenanigans.

“Here, we should have something with the contact information,” said the Strongarm. “Jon, is there a notepad over there?”

“Yeah, got it.” The human leaned over a table and used his tentacles to lift a stack of books so he could pull out the small notepad at the bottom. That may have been showing off. “Here you go!” He handed it to me with his regular hand.

“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll see if I can find the right ears to whisper into.”

“Best of luck!” he said. “My partner has asked me no less than half a dozen times if I could sneak my set home to play around with, but I’m not gonna risk the job.”

I laughed, hoping I wasn’t blushing. “Oh man, I wasn’t even going to mention the bedroom applications.”

Of course Zhee had to ask, tilting his head with faceted eyes shining. “The what?”

“Remember how most humans find tentacles a little creepy?” I asked him, pocketing the notepad.

“I recall. It makes this insistence all the stranger.”

“Well, some humans aren’t creeped out at all. Kind of the opposite. They like them a lot. In a, uh, private fashion.”

Jon the human spelled it out for him. “Mating rituals.”

Zhee’s antennae did a complicated dance, then settled in something that looked like disgust. “I was about to ask why, but I’ve decided I don’t want to know.”

“Yeah, best not to,” I agreed. “Anyway! Very useful extra arms. Good for a wide variety of activities. Other humans will likely be interested.”

“Very likely,” Jon agreed.

I activated the hovercart with a nod, and we said our goodbyes. The employees wished me luck. They returned to work while we headed back toward our ship.

Zhee grumbled disparaging things about my species the whole way, but that was nothing new.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

PS: the story with the good ship Hold My Beer is here, if you're wondering about that. It's fun.

#my writing #The Token Human #I probably should have thought up a prank-related story for today #given what day this getting posted #but it didn't occur to me and I already had this idea #plus that might feel like a repeat of 'What’s a Minor Heart Attack Between Friends?'#which I'm going to reblog next just for funsies #anyways the location for this story is partly based on my old workplace #though the noise is on the wrong side of the door #humans are weird #haso #hfy #eiad #humans are space orcs #humans are space bards #and other such tags #tentacles #prosthetics #in spaaace

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msmk11 · 6 months ago

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I Made You a Pie

Peeta Mellark x fem!reader

WC: 849

CW: Mentions of food; you and Peeta had a fight; making up; reference to r's father believing in stupid gender stereotypes; fluff

Summary: The aftermath of you and Peeta's first fight.

Day 9 of mk's mad dash

You and Peeta fought.

You couldn’t wrap your head around it.

You and Peeta just had your first fight, and it was awful.

Scratch that, it is awful. You suppose the fight hasn’t been resolved, seeing as you’d told Peeta you needed some air an hour ago.

It’s not like you’re trying to run away from your problems.

Okay, maybe you’re trying to run away from them a little. But you also actually needed some time to think. To cool off. Sure, you and Peeta had a fight. But that doesn’t mean you want to say anything mean or nasty just to hurt your boyfriend. You’re a mature adult who can handle conflict well, it’s just that sometimes, you need to step away for a moment to regulate your emotions.

Probably.

The fresh air has done you some good. After taking a long walk through the woods, you feel calm, level headed, and reasonable. Still, your stomach is in knots as you climb the steps to Peeta’s home where you’d left him.

When you open the door, you’re surprised- pleasantly surprised that is. The air smells sweet- sweeter than it usually does, at least. You’re not sure if it’s your heart or nose, probably both, that guide you towards the kitchen where you find your boyfriend hovered over the oven. At the sound of your footsteps, Peeta’s head snaps up, “Honey, you’re back. I thought you might’ve left for good,” he says with a nervous chuckle.

“Sorry, I lost track of time in the woods…was trying to clear my mind.”

“Did it?” Peeta asks, “Help clear your mind, I mean.”

“Yeah, definitely. I feel much better now.”

He smiles warmly at you and you almost forget why you fought in the first place. Nosily, you crane your neck to see what new concoction he has before him.

“What have you been up to?” You question nonchalantly.

Peeta looks down awkwardly and scratches his neck, “Oh, I, uh, made you a pie.”

You certainly melt this time, your resolve no match for your boyfriend’s tooth-rotting sweetness. You walk forward and pull him into an embrace, “thank you, sweetheart.”

“I made your favorite too,” he says, mumbling into your neck.

You pull away and grab his face, placing a soft kiss to his nose. Then, more seriously you add, “Can you step away for a moment so that we can talk things through?”

“Yes, yeah, of course, love,” the blonde responds. He grips your hand tightly and pulls you to the kitchen table. Though you’re already sitting in the chairs right next to each other, Peeta grabs the back of your chair and pulls you closer to him, so that your knees are in between his own.

You’re still overcoming your flusteredness at being so close to your boyfriend when he starts to apologize, “Honey, I’m so sorry I-”

You reach out and put your hand on his thigh, “Peeta, sweetheart. Wait. You’re not the one that needs to apologize first. It should be me. I’m the one that overreacted.”

“But-”

“Please,” you plead, “Just let me say this first.”

He nods at you to continue.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you this morning when you were just trying to be helpful. Of course I appreciate your nice gestures, and I understand that you just want to do things for me because you like to spoil me. And I love that about you. But I guess sometimes it makes me feel like I’m incompetent. Like you don’t think I can do things around the house to help- even if it is your house. Growing up, I was told I was incapable or incompetent simply because I was a girl. My father didn’t believe I could do anything besides help out in the kitchen or with the laundry, and it always bothered me. I guess I’m just sensitive about that sort of thing. And I want to be viewed as an equal.”

Peeta squeezes your hand softly, “I’m sorry that happened to you so young. I know you, sweet girl, you are capable of whatever you put your mind to, and I never intended to make you think I think otherwise. I just, never want you to have to work a day in your life if you don’t want to. I only want the best for you, honey. But I can see how that can feel degrading, so I’m sorry.”

You reach out and peck your boyfriend’s lips gently, “Thank you, sweetheart. I do really love how well you take care of me. Just know, I’m not afraid to do the dirty work. I know this isn’t my place but-”

“It might as well be,” Peeta interrupts, “You may not live here yet, but I always think of this place as ours- the place we’ll someday live as a married couple, maybe with a few kids.”

The biggest, silly grin crosses your face, “I rather like the sound of that, my sweet boy.”

“Even sweeter with the pie I made you?”

You’re pretty sure the kiss you give him answers the question.

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witch-hazels-musings · 3 months ago

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Hey Hazel, 🎱 Anon Here, again.

Wanted to make a second request, hope that's okay.

May I have a Ritual of Protection for Kazuma? Using Jasmine, Lepidolite, Frankincense, and Dalmatian Stone.

Jasmine (love, sensuality), Lepidolite (regulation, stress relief), Frakincense (confidence), Dalmation (loyalty, family) Kazuha x gn reader | Protection Ritual warning: alcohol and drunkenness, reader drinks, drunk Beidou and Kazuha

The laughter around the campfire called to you. How long had it been since you spent an evening resting, relaxing, and recharging? It seemed like there was no end to the constant movement of your life these days but sprinkled in like drying leaves, moments like these managed to find their way.

You slipped into the conversation and took up space next to friendly faces and jovial voices. It was easy. It was always easy with them.

"Waa, you should have seen em!" Beidou boomed, her drink spilling over the rim as she bumped her arm into a nearby shipmate. "Damn near took the whole crew on by themselves. Ain't that right," she added with a wink in your direction.

Ah, it was this story. How was she already this drunk?

"You always conflate this story, Beidou. It was like three people."

"Ho! Selling yourself short again. I don't think any of us could have walked out of that tussle without a few bangs and bruises. And you managed to drop em' all."

"Again, misremembering. I'm pretty sure the only reason I managed to get us out of these with all our faces intact was because I, kindly, explained to them it was more in their favor to leave."

"And then what happened," she said, smirking.

"They didn't listen so I showed them-"

"Aha!"

"BUT, they were way more plastered than you are, so it was hardly a fight. You love bringing this up." You chuckled and took a swig of your own liquor. It was sharp, heavy, and made your nose tickle.

If there was anything a pirate was good at, it was drinking - good, strong wine.

The group picked back up and you let Beidou fade back into her favorite stories. She went around the group as if to live through each of her crewmate's old tales with a fondness only she could bring. You didn't mind, no one really did. It was the opposite in fact. It seemed to boost the morale of the crew, each person getting their own spotlight. Though some enjoyed it most.

Something bumped into your back, jostled your drink. You reacted just in time to catch a stumbling Kazuha who looked more like a wet tunic than a person.

"What happened to you?"

He swallowed, caught his breath before beaming up at you. His cheeks were as rich as the kimono half-draped around his body. "As the sake warms, I am rich in its flavor. Bitter regret forms."

You burst into laughter. "You're so drunk!"

"I am," he agreed with a nod that twisted his face. You adjusted so you could prop his head up with your leg. He smiled and rubbed his face against it.

"How did this happen?"

He thought for a moment. "I remember being over there."

"Uhuh, and then what happened?"

"I am ... now I am here."

"Great. Good job," you teased. It was a rare sight to see Kazuha this intoxicated. Normally he could hold his liquor well, far better than you. Someone really must have worked hard to get him to this level. But you were happy for him. He needed to relax, let go for a time. And you'd be here to help him in the morning.

He grinned, wide and pleasing. You turned to the fire but Kazuha drew you back by sliding his arm over your lap. He adjusted so his head was on your thigh and his arms could wrap comfortably around you. And he stared. Stared up at you in a way that made your heart flutter.

"Firelight flickers. Dancing caresses on skin. I am jealous of its touch."

You counted in your head. "Wait, does that count as a haiku?" you asked.

"Perhaps not, yet the sentiment remains." Kazuha reached up to your face and let the back of his fingers caress your skin. "You're pretty."

Heat bloomed in your cheeks so you tried to hide them by cupping his palm to you. His skin was warm, hot, perfect. "You're pretty, too," you told him.

"Be mine?"

An endearing smile tugged at your lips. You leaned down toward him and he stretched to meet you. You could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"What if I told you I already was?" you asked as you held his chin.

"Then seal my lips so I may know it true."

You kissed him beside the crackling fire, surrounded by bonds tighter than family, and shared in each other's love to the backdrop of ruckus and revelry.

Thaumaturgy Anthology (October 11-13, 2024)

This event is based on spells and rituals. Inspiration does not equal understanding; liberties have been taken. All content is owned by Witch Hazels Musings, theft of these images and stories will result in immediate action.

#hazels events #thaumaturgy event #hazel event thaumaturgy #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #kazuha x reader #kazuha x gn reader #kazuha fluff

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softerglow · 2 years ago

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how to create a good morning routine

in comparison to a night routine, a good morning routine should be a bit more intensive. the morning should be the time of day where you get the most important or off-putting tasks on your to do list out of the way. there's two different approaches i would take to creating a morning routine, depending on if you're used to waking up on time, or if you have trouble getting out of bed.

the big question:

what do you want to get out of your morning routine? do you want more productive hours in the day? do you want more time to spend with yourself? find your answer and make sure it's a good one. if you don't have a reason that's good enough to get you out of bed, you won't.

the benefits of a morning routine:

starting the day off on the right foot. you have time to regulate yourself and get ready without missing any steps. feeling organized and prepared for the day will help your overall mood as the day goes on. a good morning routine should reduce the stress you feel in your daily life.

punctuality. you know what you need to do, what order to do it in and you're leaving the house on time. many of us have a habit of running late. it's rude and gives the impression that you're unreliable. being on time should always be a priority.

more free time later in the day. you could have more time for self improvement, leisure or picking up new projects if you set up your morning properly.

how to plan a morning routine:

how much time do you have? make sure you have a clear picture of how long you have to run through your morning routine and how much of that time it takes to get ready.

choose what your first activity of the day is. once you've turned off your alarm, you need to stay out of bed. if you have faith in your discipline already, exercise or chores should be first on the list. if you're still adjusting to early mornings or you just prefer a more laid back morning, make yourself an easy breakfast and watch a show or a youtube video. make sure your first activity is something that will get you out of bed, and is not so overwhelming that you're tempted to press snooze.

choose what the last activity of your morning routine is. this needs to be something that will take pressure off the rest of your day. it can change from day to day too, as long as you know what it is by the day before. if you're behind on emails, this is your chance. if you have a speech that's not well enough practiced, practice it. use this time slot to change the mood of your day for the better, get the worst out of the way.

write out a schedule. this can always change later, but you need an idea of what you're aiming for. be realistic in how long it takes to get things done.

example morning routine:

6.00am - 6.30am: yoga

6.30am - 7.30am: shower, skincare, get dressed, do hair and makeup

7.30am - 8.00am: breakfast

8.00am - 9.00am: revise for quiz

9.00am: leave house

other tips:

try to stay off your phone for the first hour of the day. this is to minimize distraction and to make you less dependent on social media. you don't need a rush of dopamine first thing in the morning.

try to drink a glass of water before you go for coffee. being well hydrated helps you stay awake and alert and is a lot kinder to your digestive system than coffee. in addition, caffeine is a diuretic so it's important to drink a lot of water with it.

make sure your breakfast is satisfying in order to maintain energy levels throughout the day. go for protein and fats over carbs first thing in the morning (fats especially if you're taking supplements, several nutrients absorb better when taken with fat). that being said, don't avoid carbs. add a low gi option such as fruit, steel cut oats or certain breads (most grocery stores have low gi options for bread).

most importantly, cater your morning routine to you. being productive might be less important to you than curling your hair just right, or taking your dog for a walk might improve your mood better than getting ahead of your emails. it's your day and you know what will make it good. honour yourself and enjoy your morning.

hi there, thank you for reading this far. this is a follow up post to how to create a good night routine. i'm glad you're all enjoying my blog so far. wishing light, love and prosperity to all <3

#it girl #that girl #girlblogging #productivity #green juice girl #wellness #self love #softerglow #glow up #level up #dream life #self improvement #self care #clean girl

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obm-avenquire · 2 years ago

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Obey Me! Seven Minutes In Heaven Hell

[I’m honouring my rotten god awful roots from hell. Put up with it. I hope this gives someone whiplash. I am writing this both as a joke and with complete sincerity and i wont be explaining myself if you get it you get it if you dont then i hope youll find it entertaining anyway. I used my own deviantart for 2012 for reference for this]

✧─── ･｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

Another day, another party in the Devildom.

You have no idea how any of them have energy for all this - it feels like every week someone will pull some cause for celebration out of thin air and suddenly they’ve hired a catering company and a truckload of helium balloons. Of course, Diavolo - fuelled by his unending fear of missing out and need for enrichment - enables it every time, doing everything he can to get himself and everyone else you know invited. Which is…fine, you like seeing them all. In moderation. At none noisy crowded events. Ah, well. Such is the burden of a dating sim protagonist. Slumber parties at the castle are a little less high maintenance at least.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when Asmodeus calls your name, waving you over with Demonus-flushed cheeks before dragging you away from the balcony and back into the big guest room-turned-common-room-sleeping-area. You definitely think there’s a better way to phrase that, but you barely have time to think when Asmo is pushing you to sit down in the collective circle (his strength always surprises you, and he’s maybe just a little too tipsy to regulate it properly), pressing a kiss on your cheeks before running off to herd together the rest of the group.

You look around the circle, giving Satan an affirming but vague nod that he returns with an equally innocuous smile, which you accept as you always do and go back to your usual little headcount. Belphegor was dozing on the sofa, threatening to sprawl over Satan (who was ‘gently’ repositioning him whenever necessary), Mephistopholes (who had invited himself) was preaching his very special gospel to Beelzebub at the snack table while Asmodeus did whatever he could to wrangle the younger away because his plate was basically just a tower of snacks at this point and he could always get more later so if he would just pleeeeaaaaasssee-

You stop paying attention, instead giving Simeon and Raphael a little wave as they walk in.

“Welcome back,” You shuffle over slightly to make space for the two of them, Simeon sitting down next to you as Raphael decides to stand rigidly slightly off to the side just a little behind the sofa, and just…stay there. Well, whatever makes him comfortable, you guess. “Did Luke arrive safe?”

“He did, thankfully,” Simeon smiles, tucking his phone into the pockets of his trousers, “I can’t believe Serun broke all their bones and had to be hospitalised again. I feel awful not being able to visit, but, well…” He sighs, shrugging, “He wanted to go himself, and insisted he could manage, so…You know how he i-”

“What? I only came because I was promised melon cake!” You’re not sure where Thirteen popped up from, but she’s already on the armchair in the corner, kicking her legs over the armrests as she rolls her eyes. “What a waste of time.”

“Oh! Well, he still finished that, actually, so-” There’s a distinctive arcane shink sound that cuts Simeon off mid sentence. “Now, Raphael, put the spear away, you can’t do that here-” Ever the stickler for manners, it seems. Oh well. Not your problem.

“Hey, so I’ve been meaning to ask.” Thirteen raises her eyebrows at your voice, pupils knife-like and theatrically bitchy in the dim candlelight. “Why are you covered in soot.”

“Well,” She scoffs, clicking her tongue, “Since someone-” She glares at Solomon from across the room, who smiles very nicely and innocently through his conversation with Barbatos- “Decided to ‘dismantle’-” She does incredibly heavy and repeated air quotes with her fingers, “My special little bomb boy it exploded all wrong!”

“I understand completely. I’m sorry someone would ever do something so awful to you, you don’t deserve that even slightly.” She snorts, balling up the tissue she was using to wipe the ashes off her forearm and throws it at your head. It disintegrates in midair before so much as making contact, and you squint over in the sorcerer's direction. He’s not even looking your way, and Barbatos whispers something you can’t make out to him as Thirteen groans and throws up her hands in frustration, sliding into what must be an incredibly uncomfortable position. It doesn’t seem to bother her, though, and she picks at her nails grumpily. Oh well!

“-Stop complainin’ already, would it really kill ya to join in?” Mammon is doing everything in his power to pull Levi through the door by the collar of his coat, but the younger seems to be trying to retract his own head into his shirt like a turtle to try and get out of it.

“You’re killing me you’re the worst and I hate youandIhopeeverythingbadeverhappenstoyoua-”

“Yeah yeah whatever. Shut up and sit.” Mammon slings his arm over Levi’s shoulder, dragging him down into the circle just as Lucifer and Diavolo finally come back from whatever it was they were getting done.

“Lucifer, don’t make that face!” Diavolo nudges his bestest of friends, who looks particularly miserable, even as Barbartos silently refills his glass before they all, too, sit to join, the prince and his right hand man on the final empty sofa, the butler instead choosing to kneel neatly a little off to the side from Mammon and Levi. Satan adeptly shoves Belphegor upwards at just the right timing for Beelzebub to sit down (his twin slumps right back into his shoulder). Mephistopholes complains that there isn’t a proper place to sit til Mammon trips him and he ungracefully tries to pass it off as deciding to sit on the floor as Thirteen barks a sharp laugh at him.

A pleasant hum of conversation settles through the room, Asmodeus stumbling into hugging Solomon, whispering something between the invocation trio that you can’t quite make out before spinning around and clapping his hands together (cutely. It’s important to emphasise that he did this so so cutely) to get everyone’s attention.

“E---veryone!!!” He waits a few seconds for silence, shooting a glare at whoever dares to continue in the wake of this very very important announcement. “It’s time for a very special game! Have we all heard of 7 minutes in heaven?” He bounces on the tips of his feet in excitement despite the lukewarm reception. “Okay well that’s a mostly no then I guess- Honestly! I know it’s a human world thing, but really?” He pouts, and you note that Diavolo’s visible excitement has increased exponentially already.

“Allow me to explain,” Solomon cuts in, confirming your suspicion that he’d been somehow roped into this. “Two or more participants are selected - in our case by drawing lots - to go into a closet or equivalent and do whatever they like for 7 minutes.” Everyone seems a lot more attentive, suddenly. “Ah, of course, we’ll be taking magic precautions to make sure that there’s no cheating, and certainly no one breaking into the closet before time is up,” He grins, clearly enjoying this already.

“The heck.” Mammon grumbles, oddly fidgety all of a sudden, “There ain’t even a closet in here,” Leviathan nods aggressively. He’s sweating.

“Hm? Oh! That won’t be a problem, haha! Barbatos was kind enough to offer to help out with that,” The aforementioned butler steps aside to reveal a simple wooden door on the wall that decidedly hadn’t been there earlier. “We even made sure it was sound-proofed! You know, just in case.”

“What a curious game! Shall we start right away?” Diavolo beams, inadvertently cutting off Mephistopholes, who’d just opened his mouth to no doubt complain that this sort of juvenile and inappropriate game had no place at a gathering with the Devildom’s one and only prince.

“Yes!! Everyone write your name on a piece of paper, okay?” Asmo begins handing out paper and pens to everyone, shushing any complaining he meets. “You don’t have to play! It just means you’re boring and no fun and that you’ll never get a chance like this again.”

Better write your name, then. You’d hate to miss out.

You watch as Barbatos collects everyone’s paper slips, dropping them into a glass bowl and shaking periodically to shuffle them well. You immediately lose track of yours, so you figure that it’s worked. After what feels like a slightly inordinate amount of time, everyone seems to have put their name in the bowl - sure, some were more…begrudging or in need of convincing than others, but that’s normal! Anyways-

“Oooo I’ve been waiting for this all evening!” Asmodeus grabs the bowl, tap-tap-tapping along the rim for effect, perfectly manicured nails making a pleasant ASMR-esque tink noise. “Right, first u-”

“Uhm, how do- how do we know you’re, uh, not rigging this?” Asmo whips his head around to stare open-mouthed at Levi.

“Excuse me? I would never-”

“Mm, there’s no guarantee though, is there?” Asmodeus pouts at Satan, grumbling something about being personally offended and making sure to snitch next time Satan asks him for a favour.

“Fine! Since I’m so untrustworthy and awful-” The smile is switched back on as he saunters over to you, swishing the bowl around carefully before holding it out to you. “Why don’t you pick? No one will complain then, right?”

The silence in the room means yes, presumably.

“Go on hun! Don’t be nervous-” He winks, and your mouth quirks into a smile to humour him, carefully reaching into the bowl for two slips of paper, pulling them out and carefully unfolding them to reveal-

✧─── ･｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

[As is tradition, I'll be uploading the individual 'endings' as I write them :) I'll be putting a poll up on my account for who to write first (within reason, I don't think tumblr will let me put up enough options to cover everyone) so feel free to suggest people in the replies/tags too!! there will be no luke option becuz i dont know how to put hardware destroying malware in clickable links yet sory :( feel free to simulate the experience urself tho!!]

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blnova180 · 5 months ago

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The Bad Sandwiches

This story contains: multiple sick characters, with descriptive belly rumbles, scat and diarrhea!!!

Sci-fi setting: In a world where humans and robots are at war with each other, during a rare moment of armistice, two unfortunate guys end up with a bout of food poisoning. Fortunately, their commander is there to take care of them.

(FYI I'm terrible at names so...)

------------------------------------------------------------

On a normal, sunny afternoon, lieutenants Fleck and Hade were having lunch at the canteen, partaking in their favorite activity: talking crap about their unit's new commander, Spree.

It was ridiculous that the higher ups thought she'd make a better commander than either one of them. Spree was more book smart than street smart, and she was always coming up with new strategies and training regiments.

"She's not right in the head," Hade said, getting up from the table. "There's an efficient way to hold your blaster, and there's a hundred ways to do so inefficiently," he mimicked her in a high pitched voice.

"The old commander never cared how we shot, as long as we hit out targets," complained Fleck. "Whatever, let's got train on our own for a while, yeah?"

"Sure, man."

Throwing out their trash and leaving thier trays behind, the two made their way to holo-room 4 to start on some light training.

They'd been fighting holo-bots for about an hour, sweating and already growing a bit tired, when Fleck started noticing an uncomfortable pressure building in his stomach. Glancing at Hade, who was still going, he shrugged it off and decided to push through it. Unbeknownst to Fleck, Hade was beginning to feel something too; his insides were rather tender and were twinging in pain with the slightest movements.

They finished the round and Hade paused the session.

"I need some water," he said.

Fleck nodded, needing the break just as much. He wiped his sweaty hair out of his face, and winced as a cramp raced down his abdomen. Hade was getting a drink at the water fountain, so Fleck allowed a soft pfff to escape him, trying to ease the pressure.

Hade bent over the water fountain, really hoping the cool water would sooth his stomach. Unfortunately, bending put more pressure on his gut than he intended.

Phwaaarghhhhh. It moaned like a whale and Hade flinched. He wiped his mouth and straightened back up.

Just then, the door to holo-room 4 opened.

Fleck and Hade looked up, and Commander Spree stared back at them.

"There you are," Spree said coolly, crossing her arms. "Have you been down to the canteen yet?"

"What's it to you?" Fleck snapped. "Gonna regulate what we eat now too?"

Spree raised an eyebrow. "Control's reported a situation. Did you stop at the canteen or not?"

Fleck glared at her, his aching stomach emboldening him. "What's it matter if we did or didn't? What's the situation? Is there an attack, was there a breach?"

"More of a human error," Spree said. "Answer the question, lieutenant."

"What? So it's a matter of rank?" Fleck sneered. "We're not high enough to know what's-" he took a breath, a cramp rolling through him "-what's going on?"

Spree narrowed her eyes. She crossed the room towards him, opening her mouth to no doubt berate him, when all of a sudden, she was interrupted by a noisy fart.

As it turned out, while Fleck had been arguing with Spree, Hade was having a bit of a predicament. He'd placed his hands on his stomach, surprised to find it protruding in a tight bloat. He could feel his belly bubbling against his hands.

Grrrrrrrrrrrr.

Hade's stomach quaked warningly. He gasped and clenched his butt. But it was so no avail, his cheeks were split open with a booming, dry fart.

BRRRRRRRAAPPPPPP~

Spree and Fleck looked at him. Hade's ears turned pink from embarrassment, but he didn't have time to dwell, because he wasn't done. His next string of farts spluttered out painful and wet.

Phllllbrrrrrrrtttttttttt. Krpppppppluttttttttt. Phbraaaap-braapppp. Grrrrll. Poooot.

Hade held his stomach, his legs weak and shaky. His breath came quick and hard, his stomach aching and burning.

Spree sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "As I was saying, Control reported a situation. The tuna sandwiches served at the canteen today were expired. A few people have turned up sick at the med-bay. Did both of you eat the sandwich, or just Hade?"

Gwwwwlp. The wet, upset gurgle from Fleck's own stomach answered her question for him.

"Do you need to use the bathroom before I escort you to the med-bay?" Spree asked them.

"Yes," Hade whimpered, clutching onto the side of the water fountain for support.

"I'm fine," Fleck snarled, crossing his arms.

"Suit yourself, then."

Spree walked over to Hade, supporting him the few steps to the bathroom behind him. Hade stumbled into the first stall, desperately pulling his belt loose and dropping his pants.

The moment his butt touched the porcelain bowl, a wet fart exploded from him, carrying a stream of liquid diarrhea out with it. Hade whimpered, tears pricking in his eyes. His gut was so tight and tender he couldn't do more than let spurts of mushy poo shot out from his sore butthole. Except something was getting stuck, and he needed to push, but he was in too much pain.

Gasping, and choking on a sob, he tried rubbing his belly to move things along; but he couldn't even fart anymore.

He heard a sigh, and Spree was in front of him, roughly feeling his forehead. Hade gasped for air. His breathing suddenly eased out when a new hand gently ran up and down his stomach.

Grrwwwwullllll. His tummy yawned thankfully, and his lower belly unclenched what it'd been holding back. A log pocked out of his hole, slowly working its way out with a mix of dry and wet prrts.

Outside the bathroom, Fleck stood massaging his abdomen. Alone, he let his face turn red, twisting in discomfort as he forced out little chirping farts. His churning stomach wasn't feeling any better. He thought releasing some gas would make the building pressure ease up some, though so far, it did not good.

Fleck felt bad for Hade, who'd thoroughly embarrassed himself in front of their straight-laced commander, and was sorry he was so sick. Fleck didn't think he needed to take a dump that desperately, yet, but the noises from the bathroom were starting to make his own stomach burble sympathetically.

A cramp stabbed his bellybutton, and he opened his cheeks to let out another fart.

KSHHHprrrrrrrrrtt-toot~

Only, what he'd expected to be another dry peep, came out instead as a sickly shart.

Fleck broke into a cold sweat. He made a b-line for the bathroom, holding onto his bottom like his life depended on it.

Inside, Hade, who's own pain was easing up as his log inched it's way out, saw a flash of Fleck as he raced to the next stall. Bubbly farts followed him, along with a string of breathless curses.

Fart after fart rocketed out of him, his belly crying for sweet relief. Making it into the stall, his fingers trembled on his belt buckled as he fumbled to unclasp it.

Braap. Braap. BRRRAAAP.

He kept farting consecutively until finally, finally Fleck managed to drop his pants and collapse onto the waiting toilet. He farted. And farted. But nothing but a few little mushy sharts came out.

Fleck tried pushing on his taught, bloated stomach. His guts boiled with fury at his harsh treatment.

PSHHHHHHPRRTTTTBRRRRRRR.

His booming fart echoed in the toilet bowl.

In the next stall, Hade winced sympathetically, listening to his friend's persistent farting. His log tapered off and he let out a sigh of relief. His poor gut was still hurting, but he was done pooping for the moment.

Spree handed him a wad of toilet paper.

"Thanks," Hade mumbled weakly. "I think I'll be all right to go to the med-bay after, y'know..."

He nodded towards Fleck's stall, where he'd started panting and grunting in an attempt to move things along.

"He's gonna be here all day at this rate," Spree said, shaking her head before walking out of Hade's stall and into the next.

Fleck glared at her when she took a step towards him, and she raised her hands in surrender, leaning against the stall's frame. Fleck's pants pooled around his ankles, the skid mark on the inside of his underwear visible.

A cramp rolled like thunder through him, and he bent over to fart again.

PshhhBRRRRRRTTTTT~

It started as a hiss, quickly becoming another boom. Fleck's face turned red as he strained, bending forwards, hugging his knees. His belly couldn't take being squished so hard.

The head of log snaked out of him. Fleck pushed. And a short log slid out into the bowl. He panted with relief, leaning back. He almost wanted to laugh at how over dramatic his body had been acting. After all that effort, the only thing he'd expelled was-

Another sharp cramp pierced his bellybutton; like an extra long, hot needle.

And in an instant, his cheeks were parting. Fleck held his breath. It felt like lava running out of his bottom. Clumpy and slushy, burning his butthole on the way out.

Over the sound of his diarrhea, he could hear Spree saying something to Hade. He heard her leave, foot steps fading. For a few minutes, Fleck held back tears, resigning himself to his twisting guts.

Kshhhrrrt~ Bllllrrrrrp ~ Phhhwwwwggggg. The chunky streams continued.

Then, all of a sudden, Fleck registered a hand combing through his hair. Exhausted, he fell forward, and an arm was holding him, the hand moving down to rub circles along his back. His stomach burbled and he whimpered.

Spree readjusted him and knelt down. Softly, she rubbed his sore, fussy tummy, until the last of his bout trickled to a stop.

She stood back up, offering him something. Fleck looked up to find Spree was handing him a pack of wet wipes. Embarrassed, he took them from her, thankful she left the stall while he cleaned himself.

A bit gingerly, Fleck put his pants back on. He joined the others in front of the sink and washed his hands.

Spree walked them down to the med-bay, keeping watch while the nurse asked about their symptoms and pain. Hade's stomach was achy and Fleck's still a bit bubbly, but it seemed the worst of it was over.

Their unit commander rejoined them when the nurse let them lay down. Spree cleared her throat.

"You've got the next two days off, but I expect to see you both bright and early Friday morning. Is that clear?"

"Aye..." Fleck and Hade saluted her weakly.

"Good. As you were, lieutenants."

Spree left the med-bay and Hade turned to Fleck.

"Never met such hard-ass Commander in my life."

"Don't think you will again, in this life or the next."

------------------------------

Yeah, okay, so I got supper excited to write my first post and might've put all my favorite tropes together. Anyway, my first post!

#scat writing #tummy ache #scat kink #fart #tw scat #diarrhea #belly rumbling #tummy rubs

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redr0sewrites · 1 month ago

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could i request head canons for spinner please? (fluff or smut I don't mind) tyyy <3

⚫️ A/n: YESSSS i cannot believe i haven't written for him yet- here r some ways i think he would show affection !!!

⚫️ Cw: none, just fluff! maybe mildly ooc since i haven't finished the final season yet

⚫️ dividers

despite his seemingly rough exterior, Spinner is very deeply empathetic and gentle towards those he cares about, and that is definitely evident within your relationship. he's always gifting you small, stolen trinkets that he thinks you'll like, always lending you clothes, and is very much prone to acts of service.

one of his main ways of showing affection is through quality time, or simply offering to hangout with you! he loves playing video games with you, and you guys definitely have a shared minecraft world and animal crossing village.

whether you're in the LOV or not, he absolutely wants you to meet them. they're his family, the people he feels most himself around, and cares deeply for them as well. if you're already a part of the leavue, that's even better! he loves hanging out with you and his family, its just so special to him and yet another way he shows how much he cares

GIFT!!! GIVER!!!! you cannot tell me Spinner would not give you his heart on a platter if you let him. along with this, i feel as though he'd really enjoy cooking for you or cooking with you, even if it does end up being disastrous. sure, he ends up making inedible concoctions half the time, but as he progresses he gets much better at cooking !!!

this is a bit more mellow, but i think Spinner struggles a lot with physical appearances and fitting in with societal expectations a lot. he's always a bit nervous that his looks may deter you, but that only means that he finds your acts of affection and praise more meaningful. he really likes it when you kiss his nose or hands, and the first time you do it he probably cries :( i also think he's a bit nervous to hold hands with you since he's worried that you'll dislike the texture or that he'll accidentally hurt you.. please reassure him !!!

yk how lizards can regulate their body temperature using their external environment? on cold nights he gets especially clingy, desperate for your warmth. much like the rest of the league, Spinner doesn't sleep very well, however he always sleeps best when he's at your side. he really likes skin to skin contact for that reason, not even sexually, but just because the feeling of your warmth against him calms him down

another way he'd show affection is simply by opening up to you. he doesn't do so very often, but when he does its incredibly heartfelt. he really likes psychological discussions, especially about topics such as Stains ideology and hero society. he's a lot smarter than he lets on and loves talking to you. i also think he's a writer as well, he loves writing as a form of expression and would write you love letters and little notes throughout the day, especially early on in the relationship when he isn't as good at expressing his feelings verbally

overall, Spinner seems tough, but he's pretty much a big sweetheart. he cares about you a lot, and tries to make an effort to show it as much as he possibly can.

OUGHHG HES SO SILLY ☹️ SPINNER MY BELOVED !!!! if anyone hs any more reqs, pls send em in !!! esp fluffy touya or tomura asks, i do not have enough for them 😞

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introspectivememories · 9 months ago

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tim and bernard who break up and it's nothing big, no one cheated or anything. it's just their lifestyles didn't work out well together. tim cannot give up vigilantism currently and bear cannot handle the level of danger tim puts himself in. and on the other hand, tim cannot handle the fact that bear chooses to run into danger as an emt bc he already worries about everything but now he has to worry if he'll find his boyfriend convulsing from fear gas in a random alley but also bear who felt the life drain out of darla cannot stand the thought of not helping people and runs headfirst into dangerous situation after dangerous situation hoping that every person he saves can somehow make up for the fact that he could not save darla.

(he very pointedly does not think about the fact that there was nothing he could do because if he thinks about that, he'll spiral until they have to lock him in arkham too)

and so they break up but they were tim & bernard in high school and when they started dating they balanced out the worst of each other and they became tim&bernard. and everyone who knows them, knows that they're better together but they cant be together, they refuse actually because they cannot lose another person to the violence of gotham and by the time they figure out that they cant work together as long as the other is an emt or vigilante, it's too late for both them. they've already left too many pieces of themselves in each other.

tim still knows what bear means when he says "tim" in that exasperated voice. tim still goes boneless when he hears bear say "baby" in that firm tone. bear can still read tim like a book. he still knows the right way to massage tim's neck so that tim can go to sleep. everyone at the first responders gala knows not to bother ceo drake-wayne and senior emt dowd when they're talking.

(and if they're standing a little too close to each other than what is normal, who are they to judge? everyone knows that dowd and drake-wayne have history)

and if everyone on the night shift has caught red robin with his head tucked into the crook of emt dowd's neck as emt dowd runs a soothing hand up and down the vigilante's back, well then, they just quietly back away.

(after all, dowd's one of like, five, emts that can get the bats to receive medical treatment so if turning a blind eye to whatever the fuck they have going on is what allows them to give back to their heroes, then the night shift will do it every time)

and of course, tim and bear are practical people. they loved (love) each other sure, but when your lives are fundamentally incompatible, well, you cant get too stuck on the what-ifs, that's for sure. and so they do find love with other people and yeah, maybe it's not what they expected love to be when they first fell in love with each other. it's not the bubbly, stomach-swoopy, cant stop grinning, feeling that permeated tim&bernard's early days or the i Know you/you Know me that was their middle or the quiet despair that was their end but it is contentment. and in a life with as many losses as theirs, contentment is something they hold dearly

and they're happy! truly! but sometimes, at galas when they're making each other snort champagne out their noses or in darkened alleyways when their clothes are both stained with blood or at rallies for stricter gun regulations in gotham where they both sit too close to each other, fingers enclosed around each other in a death grip, when the presenters inevitably bring up grieves

(worst school shooting in gotham in decades, there's blood on their hands and blood in their mouths and darla is dead in between both of them and there is a chasm so wide that they are screaming to get their voices across and she will always be dead and maybe this had always been the problem that she is dead and there is no coming back from that and that there is blood on their hands and blood in their mouth and blood on their han-)

but sometimes, most especially on opposite sides of the street, as life pulls them in different directions, just sometimes, they see each other and just for a second, nothing too long, the flap of a hummingbird's wings, the time it takes to blink, an electron's orbital, they look at each other and for the briefest moment, blue on brown, a barely noticeable stutter in their steps, the space between heartbeats, because this is all they will give themselves because they do not dwell on what-ifs or what-could-have-beens, or what-should-have-beens, or delusions of a softer world, their eyes meet and they think to themselves, god, in another life, i would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with him.

#what the fuck is this #the theme was wistfulness. hopefully that came across right. and like i wanted this to be all 1 text block so you feel how it all collapses #into that 1 thought they have at they end but fuckass tumblr has a 4096??? text limit for a single paragraph???? so here's multiple paragra #anyway here is my middle of the road sad timbern hc. do i think this will happen? no? is this still a fun world to play in? yeah absolutely #also super huge fan of darla haunting the narrative. darla as this chasm they cannot cross. darla as smth they shelter each other from #but also smth like a 2 way blade. it cuts them both. it will never stop cutting them. smth smth the wound will always bleed #also i cannot stress how important it is that they are happy with other people!!! they are both satisfied with other people. it's just that #they have a very specific history and they are the only two people who really know and understand that history #and also it's not that theyre unhappy with their partners but just that smtimes they look at each other and... wonder. in a softer world #maybe i could've been a chef and you could've still been a superhero and we could've still worked out. maybe we would've gotten a boat #together and maybe we could've come home to each other. maybe i could've trusted you to come home to me. maybe you could've #understood my need to help people. maybe we could've held our love as something precious.#maybe in a softer world our love wasn't something that hurt us both.#i need to lay down. im going crazy #as always i do love reading yalls thoughts in the reblogs and replies!!!#bernard dowd #dc #tim drake #timbern #timber

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lockes-woods · 7 months ago

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That's on Period(t)

(1/2)

A/N:

Mihawk eases your period pain in a way only he knows how. This was supposed to be a short drabble pwp, but apparently, I can't write straight smut, I have to have a plot. No request; just the ramblings of a dysphoric enby.

Mihawk x reader (x Shanks in spirit)

Content warning; period sex, dysphoria, fingering, and P in V sex.

MDNI

This low-key ended up being 4715 words (longer than most of my chapters in my other fics). This one kinda got away from me, hopefully, it's coherent.

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An unintentional groan escaped you as you shifted in your seat trying to find a comfortable position. Despite the fact that you had been camped out on your couch for the better part of the past ten hours nothing felt right. You felt powerless as another onslaught of cramps started in your lower abdomen. You whined as you hugged your heating pad as close as you possibly could to your lower stomach, praying to whoever was listening that it would stop. At this point, you wish you could cut yourself open and stuff it inside of you. Every sharp pain felt like your uterus was screaming to make its presence known. That paired with the breast tenderness that made it impossible to bind left you feeling like a dysphoric wreck.

It didn’t help that the last time you were out you kept getting misgendered by everyone you encountered from older women needing help reaching the top shelf in the grocery store to the pharmacy tech that helped you fill your birth control prescription. The latter also dead naming you because you haven’t been able to legally change your name yet. If you weren’t so desperate to make sure you could start up on your next pack as soon as possible you would have avoided that interaction altogether. Logically you knew they were just doing their job, but it was still a shitty situation to go through when you already felt awful. You were counting down the time in hours til you could start your next pack of birth control and put a stop to this mess.

You just had to wait til Sunday at seven in the morning when you took that along with your other morning medications. You immediately regretted glancing down at the time on your phone. The countdown you had going on informed you that you still had eighty-two and a half hours of your period left. You sighed to yourself; you still have over three days to go. You were just thankful that you had off from work today. You needed time alone after all the triggering encounters you had the day before. Most of them wouldn’t even have been a blip on your radar normally, but your hormone imbalances made each small inconvenience feel life-altering. That was the main reason you hated your period, while the dysphoria and physical pain sucked, it was most annoying not being able to regulate your emotions regularly. You still felt bad about snapping at your roommate before he left for his shift.

Shanks was always annoying and a bit of a brat but his comment about how cute you looked in your Christmas pajama pants and oversized t-shirt (that you had stolen from him) was the last straw. He was always playfully flirting with you. While you knew it meant nothing to him it pulled at your heart as a constant reminder you would never be anything more than friends. It wasn’t like you wanted him to break up with his boyfriend. It was quite the opposite you often wished the three of you could be something more but you knew that was a pipe dream. You still felt sensitive about your lingering crush on him and his boyfriend. Those feelings were only amplified by your hormone imbalance.

You had told him to fuck off and threw pillows at his head til he made his way out of the apartment. While this was far from the first time you had told him to fuck off it was the first time you said it in a genuine tone; instead of your normal playful way. You knew you would just need to buy him a beer the next time you went out to apologize, but it still made you cry in frustration as soon as you were alone in the apartment. Because of the nature of his job as a firefighter you hated leaving things on a bad note before his shifts. It was in a similar vein as the old saying that you should never go to sleep angry. Despite your exhaustion, you’d probably end up staying up until he got home at one in the morning out of guilt.

Speaking of Shanks, his boyfriend, and your defacto third roommate, should be home soon from his twelve-hour shift at the hospital. You had an anxious turn in your stomach at the thought of him. You hoped that he hadn’t told Mihawk about your altercation. It was already hard to get a read on him and you didn’t know if you could handle him being mad at you while your emotions were already a hot mess. You tried not to focus on it as you queued up another episode of your comfort show and snuggled deeper into your secondhand couch. You absent-mindedly snacked on the candy and chips you had strewn about the coffee table. Your eyes began to droop as you took in the familiar storyline you had seen countless times. You had just begun to phase out into sleep as you heard the familiar opening and firm shutting of the apartment door. A groan was pulled from your throat as you suddenly shot up into a sitting position causing a cramp to shoot through you. Blinking up with bleary eyes you took in Mihawk slipping out of his shoes and placing them on the rack next to the door.

“Hey, Angel did I wake you?” Mihawk asked, staring down at you with his honeysuckle eyes, as he slipped off and hung up his work bag.

“No?” You said, shifting in your seat for a more comfortable position. Your passing grimace as another round of cramps cut through you wasn’t lost on Mihawk.

“Are you feeling any better?” he asked, taking a seat on the armchair facing you.

“Not really,” you sighed, “I’ve been tethered to this heating pad all day and the Tylenol I took barely took the edge off of my cramps. I wish I wasn’t allergic to ibuprofen.” You groaned as the cramping continued.

“Have you tried any alternative methods to relieve the pain?” he asked.

“Like what?” you asked back, outside of drugs and heating pads you weren’t aware of any other methods to ease cramps.

“I’ve heard orgasms are a good method to combat menstrual cramps.” He answered casually. You immediately broke eye contact and began to play with the frayed edges of your well-loved heating pad. You could feel the heat rush to your face at his suggestion. While you weren’t a virgin, you were still kinda prudent when it came to things of a sexual nature. You were getting better at feeling less embarrassed about discussions involving sex, but it was times like these that you reverted back to your abstinence-only upbringing. It didn’t help that one of your closest friend’s very attractive boyfriend was the one prompting the conversation. You were so in your head that you didn’t hear Mihawk shift from the recliner to the cushion next to you on the couch until you felt the coldness of his hand tilting your chin upward to meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable in any way, it was just a suggestion. You know we hate seeing you in pain.” He said.

“It-It’s okay, I just don’t know if the mess is worth it.” You said meeting his gaze. Your heart softened at the concerned look in his eyes. It almost made you want to cry.

“You could always do it in the shower?” he suggested.

“What about the no fucking in common areas rule?” you ask, the look Mihawk gave you was more than enough to confirm what you already suspected.

“You motherfuckers,” you started pulling out of his grasp and swinging a pillow at him full force, “You really broke the one rule I had before you moved in?!”

“To be fair we had already broken the rule before and I moved in,” Mihawk responded with a slight upturn of his lip, “I believe Shanks’ exact reasoning was that we were grandfather in.”

“You’re the only other people who live here! Who else would it be for?!” you responded raising your voice at the prospect of Shanks’ audacity. You were about to hit him with the pillow again, before dropping it once you realized what it could have come in contact with.

“Both of you are cleaning this apartment from top to bottom on your next day off,” you say glaring up at him.

“That feels more than fair,” Mihawk responded, a smirk still present on his face. You were about to lay into him more before another wave of cramps made its way through your lower abdomen.

“Now are you going to shower?” Mihawk asked, promptingly.

“It wouldn’t work anyway,” you sigh turning your gaze back to the cloth covering your heating pad.

“How do you know before you’ve even tried it?” Mihawk asked.

“I i-it won’t-” you started, “I c-can’t” You tried again before giving up and attempting to make a hot exit back to your room. Mihawk locked his hand around your wrist in a firm, but gentle grip as your feet hit the ground. You could feel the heat of embarrassment spread from your face to your ears, back down to your chest.

“What can’t you do?” he asked calmly, keeping a steady grip on you.

“I-I, fuck,” you sighed, before reluctantly meeting his gaze, “I’venevermademyselfcum” You rush out attempting to get away, before Mihawk’s other hand grips onto your other wrist.

“Have you ever cum?” he asked, with no trace of judgment in his voice.

“I mean yeah, but only with certain partners. It’s not like I’m seeing anyone now, so it’s pointless to even attempt it.” You sigh, sliding back into your seat with a pout. Mihawk released his grip on your wrists once it became apparent that you were not going to try and run away again.

“Do you want help?” Mihawk asked. You almost laughed before meeting his gaze and realizing that his offer was completely genuine.

“But-Shanks,” was all you managed to get out before your brain stalled out. You were half a second from spirally before he gently cupped your face and pulled your attention back to him.

“Shanks will be fine with it, trust me,” Mihawk said as he gently ran his thumb against your cheek; gaze never leaving yours. “The only reason I can think of that would make him upset is the fact that I’d be with you first.”

“But-how?” you asked, still trying to absorb this new information.

“Shanks has been holding a torch for you for years,” Mihawk said, “He’s liked you from the moment you met.”

“Why’d he never make a move?” you asked after a moment.

“He did the night you met, but you just thought he was being friendly.” Mihawk explained, “He didn’t want to lose you, so he took on the role of a friend.”

“But we’ve been friends for over three years,” you responded, “He was the first friend I made in the city,”

“Trust me I know. I was jealous of you for the longest time, but after getting to know you I get why he didn’t want to lose you,” Mihawk confessed. He gave you a moment to process before continuing, “We’d love to be with you if you’d have us,”

“Wait-So is it an open relationship? Are you like polyamorous?” You ask trying to process all of what Mihawk had just told you, but your brain was too busy buffering.

“I believed it would be considered closed polyamory,” Mihawk said stroking your bottom lip with his thumb, “There would be three of us, and any of us can be together, but there would not be any additional people,” he explained, patiently. You nodded pensively, as you began to get what he was saying.

“Okay,” you reply after a minute.

“Okay? Like you’re in?” Mihawk asked to clarify.

“Yeah, I’m still not totally sure what the logistics would be, but I know I want you both.” You confessed looking up at him through your lashes. Mihawk didn’t waste a momentary second before pulling you in for a desperate kiss. You moaned as his tongue came into contact with yours for the first time, you let him lead the kiss. One of his hands remained cupping your face the other gripped your waist and pulled you into his lap. A gasp escaped you as you felt his hard-on press against your core. You let out a loud unobstructed moan as he pulled back from the kiss and began to nip down your neck, while shamelessly grinding up against you.

“Fuck, Mihawk” you whine, before his lips once again connected with yours. You instinctually wrapped your legs around his waist and looped your arms around his neck as he stood up from the couch and made his way to the bathroom. He delicately placed you on the bathroom counter, you whined at his loss as he pulled back and stripped off his top. You bit your lip to contain a groan as you took in his backside when he turned to turn on the shower. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen him shirtless, but it was the first time you felt okay checking him out. Steam began to envelop the bathroom as he stalked back towards you.

“Are you sure you’re okay going from kissing straight to period sex?” You asked looking up at him.

“Angel, I’m a surgical resident; little blood isn’t going to scare me off,” he said, with a small quirk on his lips, “Are you okay with going straight to sex?” he asked as he stroked the waistband of your pajama pants.

“Yes, Sir” you answered, a mischievous smile never leaving your lips as Mihawk gripped your chin and jerked your face upward in a firm grip.

“What did you just say Angel?” he asked with an unsettling air of calmness.

“Sir,” you responded smugly, doubling down, “That is what you like Shanks to call you right?” you asked, “Or is there someone else he’s calling out to when he cums?”

“Darling, I’d tread lightly if I were you; I’d hate to have to spend our first time together correcting your behavior.” He said, stroking your cheek.

“So, you don’t want me to call you Sir?” you asked, with an air of faux innocence. You bit your lip to contain your smile as you saw a phantom twitch in his right eye. You had only ever seen Shanks be able to warrant that reaction. You decided to reel in your teasing before you crossed to the point of no return.

“Angel, as long as you’re cumming on my cock you can call me whatever you’d like,” he whispered into your ear, nipping at it. The smirk returned to his face as an involuntary whine left your lips.

“Now, I’ll ask you again. Do you want this?” he asked pulling back to see your whole face.

“Yes,” you whined as a wave of cramps shot through you; reminding you of why you were here in the first place.

“And your safe word?” he asked.

“Peach,” you answered, “Yours?”

“Code,” he answered, “Do you have any hard stops?”

“Just please don’t touch my chest or refer to me in feminine terms.” You say trying your hardest to maintain eye contact while being vulnerable.

“Of course, darling,” he said pecking your forehead, “Is it okay if I take this off?” he asked tugging at your oversized top. You nod enthusiastically lifting your arms to help him. Once it’s off you tug off your pajama pants and period underwear leaving you bare. It takes everything in your power not to cover your chest as Mihawk takes you in; a soft look on his face.

“What?” you ask after a moment.

“I always knew you were a beauty, but I never expected you to be this lovely,” he answered earnestly stroking up and down your sides. You could feel the heat return to your face at his genuine response.

“Can we get in the shower now? I don’t want to bleed on the counter” you ask looking up at him. He nodded; your comment seemed to snap him out of his daze. He once again had you wrapped your legs around his waist as he picked you up and walked over to the shower. He shed his pants and underwear before stepping in. A pleasant sigh escaped you as the hot water graced your skin. Thankfully you and Mihawk both preferred showers that were just below scalding. He placed you down and turned you so that his front was to your back. The shower head spray was adjusted to hit your lower stomach and core. An involuntary whine escaped you as you felt his hard-on pressed against your back. You were about to start grinding back against it before Mihawk placed a firm hand on your hip to keep you in place.

“Patience, love,” he said, reaching down to rest his other hand above your mound, “I have to prep you first; is this okay,” he asked reaching between your legs. You nodded, spreading your legs to give him better access.

“Words,” he said, hovering right above where you wanted him.

“Please, Sir,” you whine, unable to grind up to meet him because of his other hand holding you stationary. He hummed in approval finally stroking over your slit. He made a few agonizingly slow passes before finally breaching your slit. He again traced your entrance twice before inserting a single finger.

“Please, Sir more,” you whined, “I can take it-” You started before a moan cut through you as he ground his palm against your clit. He looped his arm around your waist pulling you back so that you could rest your body weight against him giving him better access to your core.

“Shh, it’s okay, just let Sir take care of you,” he responded, placing a kiss behind your right ear, before kissing and sucking his way down to your shoulder. You fell lax against his sturdy frame as he slipped another finger into your core, he pulled another whine from you as his fingers thrusted and curled around your front wall. He easily hit spots you could only dream of reaching on your own. A cry erupted from you as he suddenly increased his pace and depth of his fingers. Now every thrust had his palm smacking down on your clit. His own urges reared its head as he began to shamelessly grind against your back. You moan in response as your own resolve fades quickly as the coil inside you winds tighter and tighter.

“It’s okay Angel, you can let you. Just give me one and I’ll let you cum on my cock as many times as you like,” he said encouragingly, before pulling you in for a desperate kiss. You put up more resistance than you did in your initial kiss causing him to nip at your bottom lip. Simultaneously his arm wrapped around your waist loosened and joined his other hand at your core. You moan into the kiss as he began to rub your clit in succession with his thrust. Your climax began to build as you both found a rhythm. You had just gotten used to the rhythm when he suddenly pinched your clit. Your climax snapped through you at the sudden change in stimulation. Your pussy held his fingers in a vice grip as you rode out your high on his hand.

You fell fully slack against him as you came down from your high.

“Fuck so good Angel,” he praised slowly easing his fingers out of your core, “Knew you’d be perfect.”

“Sir, please,” you whined grinding back against him.

“Love,” he said in a warning tone hand back at its station on your hip.

“I want you, please Sir, I wanna be full again,” you moan as the momentary relief from cramps lapsed and the pain in your core returned. You stretched your head over your shoulder, pulling him in for another kiss. You were so focused on his mouth you didn’t realize he had switched positions until the coldness of the tiled wall met your back. You pulled back in a daze now front to front. You were snapped back to reality when you pulled back and felt the twitch of his cock against your stomach. Your eyes widened as you took in his size. You now understood why Shanks was so loud during sex, if you were being fucked by that on the reg you’d be screaming too.

“Sir,” you say hesitantly breaking eye contact with his cock and looking up at him.

“It’ll fit,” he said, seemingly reading your mind. He rubbed reassuring circles into your hips with his thumbs, “We’ll go slow. I’ll make it worth your while if you can be patient for just a little bit longer.”

“Unless you want to stop now, I won’t be mad if it’s too much for you right now,” he said offering you an out.

“No-” You answered quickly, “I mean, I’m comfortable continuing,” You corrected yourself, trying to play off how desperate you were for his cock. Despite your efforts, a knowing smirk still pulled across Mihawk’s face.

“Are you sure?” he asked teasingly,

“Yes,” you replied much calmer than your last response. He nodded hiking your right leg over his hip for better access.

“Are you ready?” he confirmed one more time. He began to tease his tip between your folds as you said yes one last time. His cock was soon lubed up with your blood and slick as he gently pushed the head of his dick into your entrance. He rocked back and forth slowly allowing you time to adjust to his jarring size.

“Fuck,” you moaned as he bottomed out. You found it almost impossible to focus on anything other than the pulses of his member deep inside of you.

“Shh, relax darling; I got you,” he said, pressing you firmer into the wall as he once again scooped you up into his arms. Both of your legs were wrapped around his middle as he leaned into you to keep you from sliding down the wall. You were effectively sandwiched between him and the wall. You held onto him for dear life as he suddenly began to thrust into you at a slow pace.

“More, please” you whined desperately. You were so full of him that his tip just kissed your cervix without pressing into it uncomfortably. While the slow pace was nice at first as you adjusted it began to drive you mad as you wished more than anything that he would start to fuck you like he means it.

“Patients,” he cooed down at you with a self-satisfied look, “I don’t want you to accidentally hurt yourself.”

“Fuck,” you groaned, tears beginning to kiss at the corners of your eyes. You wanted, no need to cum. The languid pace he had set was driving you mad.

“Sir, please,” you whined desperately.

“Please, what Angel?” he asked, the stupid smirk still plastered on his face.

“Fast,” you panted.

“You want me to go faster?” he asked, with fake ignorance.

“Fuck, please!” you border-lined shouted, “I’ll do whatever you want, please fuck me” you cried as tears began to fall down your face in two lines, one below each eye.

“Anything?” He asked bemused with a smirk, speeding up slightly, but not enough to make cum any faster than before.

“Yes,” you cried. He hummed in fake contemplation before responding.

“Okay, but you owe me one,” he answered coyly before he slowly pulled out and slammed back into you full force. A sigh of relief leaves you before he leans down. It felt like the wind was knocked out of you at the new angle. He quickened his pace, stroking longer and deeper inside you at every thrust. Your nails dug into the pristine white plane of his back leaving scratched down the stretch of his upper back as you tried to hold on the best you could. All you could do was helplessly moan as Mihawk used you as he pleased.

“Fuck,” he moaned, followed by a deep groan of your name. You could feel the pleasure building up in your core as you quickly approached your end.

“Fuck, please Sir can I cum? I’m so clos-” you started before you were cut off by your own moan. Tears began to prick at your eyes again, not out of frustration like earlier, but at the pure feeling of overstimulation you were now experiencing. “I’m sooo close please Sir” you whined.

“Go ahead Angel,” he said before pulling you in for a desperate kiss that he dominated. That was all the permission you needed; your body seized up like you were possessed as your orgasm ripped through you. Your pussy milking Mihawk’s cock for all it was worth.

“Fuck,” he groaned as he pulled out seconds before his own orgasm. He painted your stomach with his release, as your empty cunt clenched around nothing. He carefully lowered you back to the floor as you both tried to get your heart rates down to normal levels. He made quick work of cleaning your body as he raced against the now lukewarm water falling against your body. He had just managed to finish cleaning both of you seconds before the water went cold. He took his time drying your body, before bundling you up in one of his towels and placing you on the ledge of the tub.

A shiver ripped through your spent form as the cold air of your air-conditioned apartment invaded the space when he opened the door. A yawn escaped you as you patiently waited for him to come back. Your eyes had just begun to droop when he came back clad only in a pair of boxer briefs. He helped you into a pair of your period underwear and an oversized shirt. You bit your lip to contain your smile as you took in the logo of his medical school across the chest of the t-shirt. He had specifically gotten a shirt from his room instead of one of the ones you had stolen from Shanks over the years. You sleepily followed him through the living room and down the hall to the doors of your bedrooms.

On autopilot, you turned left to go to your room before a gentle tug on your wrist stopped your movement. You sleepily glance up at Mihawk and tilted your head in lieu of talking.

“You can stay in our room if you want,” he offered avoiding eye contact as a blush bloomed on his cheeks.

“Oh, okay,” you say as the proposition snaps you out of your daze. You followed Mihawk in and crawled into the bed.

“Wait, what about Shanks?” you asked.

“What about him?” Mihawk asked back.

“Would it make him feel weird to share a bed with me without a heads up?” you asked, tilting your head at him.

“No,” Mihawk said, the ghost of a smile forming on his lips, “I think it’d be a nice surprise; especially after a long shift.”

“Oh, okay,” you reply as fatigue begins to overtake your body.

“Do you need anything else before we go to sleep?” Mihawk asked, leaning against the door frame.

“Um, maybe my heating pad and some water,” you answer.

“Okay,” he nodded, taking off back to the living room and kitchen. You couldn’t help but smile as you lay enveloped in their scents. You managed to stay awake just long enough to take a few swigs of water and position yourself on your side with the heating pad flush against your lower abdomen. Mihawk curled up behind you, your fingers interlaced over your heating pad. You slept better than you had in a long time, especially for being on your period. You couldn’t tell if you had dreamt it or not, but you could have sworn someone had pecked your forehead and cocooned you between their chest and Mihawk’s. The faint smell of sandalwood was the last sensation your body recognized before drifting off to the next dream.

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PART 2

A/N:

Hope you enjoyed this one shot! Hopefully, this can find some other baddies suffering through their period. As always thanks for taking the time to read.

-Locke

#mihawk x you #dracule mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #modern au #smut #period sex #18+ mdni #mishanks #gender dysphoria #cross posted on ao3 #nonbinary reader #afab reader

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143folium · 1 month ago

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Random Thought About Debilitated Planets in Vedic Astrology (Pt. 1)

Sometimes, I wonder how just because a planet is debilitated, it's already bad. Sure there will always be that argument that said planet cannot perform due to being uncomfortable or outside of comfort zone... But if we use that argument to prove otherwise, it can make sense how debilitated planets might actually turn out good. ESPECIALLY if your eyeing to move abroad and have foreign settlement.

DISCLAIMER: I am not a professional astrologer, moreso in Vedic, nor am I knowledgeable about Hindu contexts. So please take what I say with a grain of salt. Any feedback will be appreciated since I'm also learning Vedic.

So to continue, 4th house is said to be the house of comforts. If we use the argument for debilitation, it should imply the opposite of 4th house. I wouldn't mean the 10th house, but the signification of comfort which is discomfort. But 4th house also belongs to homeland, and opposite to homeland is foreign lands.

Another thing is that foreign lands is signified by the 12th house. 12th house is also the house of loss, and guess what...? Debilitation is the loss of strength of a planet, or is it?

My point is, planets don't necessarily lose its overall strength, but like the comfort argument, it just feels out of zone. But if you actually dabble on the "discomfort", you might actually end up strengthening that debilitated planet for good.

Discomfort here could mean, doing the things that are the opposite to your planetary significations OR embodying that planet's energy OUTSIDE your comfort place. Let's go through each planets.

Debilitated Sun (in Libra)

What I often hear about debilitated Sun is that "you put the king in the marketplace" and that "the king is uncomfortable in dealing with the common people". Libra represents market and the masses, but with Sun being in this sign, it can actually give one the potential to be an exemplary leader who people can easily connect to. You can also see it in a way that it helps you turn down your ego. Compromising here and being fair and diplomatic can actually make you more respected and famous (as the usual Sun functions).

It can also be taken as being a conventional leader, charismatic person, or main person AWAY from your homeland. You could actually be more egoistic (for good) in foreign lands.

Debilitated Moon (in Scorpio)

Ah, yes, when emotions are too much that it constricts you and prevents you to breathe... except that this can actually make you a genuine person in the realm of emotions. Okay, sure, Scorpio is also associated with secrecy, and it makes Moon very very suppressed. But Moon is not only just emotions, but also psyche. In one's psyche, the shadow is always there and the Moon is no stranger to shadows and darkness since it rises at night where it illuminates the sky. This can make one have a very strong intuition and makes one more equipped in psychologically transcending themselves. Without intensity and secrets, one cannot easily unearth the subconscious and even conscious matters.

It can also be taken as having a more evolved psyche and better emotional regulation/mental health and more abundant comforts when AWAY from homeland.

Debilitated Mars (in Cancer)

THIS. Is quite a poetic debilitated planet. So Mars is the soldier, it's all about fighting. But the thing is, you can't really make the home (Cancer) a battlefield. Now there's a beautiful quote/question that could present as a beautiful argument to this, "Would you rather be a warrior in the garden or a gardener in a war?" What many people get wrong about nurturing is that it's about the gentle/soft/maternal energy, but you can nurture anyone by being strongheaded and a fighter. I don't mean this in a way that you nurture people by being an abusive warfreak, heck no. What this can show is that, it makes one "okay" with channeling their anger for the sake of standing up for themselves and those who they consider "family". There are many parents who demonize anger and confrontation, but one can never know peace without knowing conflict and how to fight for oneself. This can make one a solid protector.

It can also be taken as you being more assertive, ambitious, willing to stand up for self and others when AWAY from homeland.

There are more planets, but I think this is what I can write for now. I'll make parts 2 (or more, depends).

Enjoy!

#vedic astro notes #vedic astrology #Debilitated #Surya #Sun #Libra Sun #Moon #Scorpio Moon #Chandra #Mangal #Mars #Cancer Mars #astro observations #Debilitated planets

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robertdowneyjjr · 8 months ago

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HAPPY BDAYYYY !!! coincidentally it is also my mom's bday today lol, here's a lil buckytony for u !!!

which connects to my prompt: tony is used to feeling cold, he had to be (the cave was so cold in the death of the night) and he knows that bucky is, too, even if the man always seem to run hot due to the serum. well, it's the winter season, what better excuse does he have except that he needs a human blanket? basically tony holding hands, hugging, or cuddling bucky to fend off the cold !!

happy birthday again !!!

hello!!! i’m SO sorry this took practically half a year but i just want you to know that your art makes me so happy and seeing this in my inbox was one of the best gifts i could have asked for. bucky and tony are so fucking cute and i’m obsessed with bucky’s blush and tony’s eyelashes 🥰 i hope your mom also had a lovely time celebrating her birthday!!

anyway, without delaying this any further than i already have—

———

Bucky had never been able to feel anything with the heavy silver arm that was forced onto him, which made it useful as a shield as well as a blunt force weapon. It was perfect for the Winter Soldier, the unfeeling assassin whose sole existence was to comply orders and complete missions. Having it blown off may have been a shock at first, but it had quickly morphed into relief when Bucky had realized that losing the arm was the first real step towards finally, truly breaking free from the shackles of Hydra.

Since having his triggers removed and embarking on his slow journey towards recovery, Bucky has decided that he has no interest in fighting anymore, keen to stay home and monitor the feeds while the rest of the team is out being heroes. He’s happy to be retired, happy to uncover new things about himself as he learns how to bake croissants and build terrariums. It’s a kind of peace he never thought he’d be able to have when he was trapped for seventy years as a prisoner of war, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

So when he had been asked what he would like in a new prosthetic, Bucky had said, just a regular arm; no super strength, no nifty weapons hidden in the plates. Just a functional part of his body for him to get through his daily life.

Tony had gone above and beyond, presenting Bucky with a prosthetic that had far exceeded his expectations. Not only is the arm intuitive, with nanobots that shift like real muscle and fat as Bucky moves, but it is also regulated to match the rest of Bucky’s body in strength and temperature. If it had been painted a color to match Bucky’s skin, it would almost be indiscernible to a real arm.

Despite the prosthetic being made with the most advanced technology the world has to offer—despite all the cyborg jokes his friends like to tease him with—Bucky has never felt more human.

With the new arm, Tony hadn’t just given Bucky back a sense of normalcy. He’d also given Bucky a brighter future than he had ever dared to imagine.

He still remembers the day in the lab after they had run through their last series of tests with the new arm.

He had just put down the stress ball they used for the pressure test, still marveling at how he could feel the texture of the rubber, when Tony had spoken up.

“Okay. One last thing I’d like us to try. Hold your hand out?”

Bucky had done as he was asked, not quite sure what to expect, when Tony had reached out with his right hand and wound their fingers together. He hadn’t been able to hold back a gasp, staring at their joined hands as he felt the cold of Tony’s hand seeping through the warmth that he hadn’t realized was coming from his own arm. Then Tony had squeezed once, affectionately, stepping closer until they were only inches apart, and Bucky’s heart had stuttered in his chest as he glanced up and saw the way Tony had been smiling at him.

“How does this feel?” Tony had asked, red faintly dusting his cheeks in a way Bucky had been sure no one else had ever seen before.

Feeling whole and brave, and like the ice in his veins is finally starting to melt for the first time in decades, Bucky had gently squeezed back.

“Good. It feels nice. You feel nice.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I like it.”

“Well, good. You’re warm, so I think I’ll be holding on to you for a while. You know, just to stave off the cold,” Tony had declared.

“Sure thing, doll.”

Tony is tactile. That had been the first thing that Bucky learned about Tony when the team had been pardoned, made their amends with each other, and gone back to New York.

His touches are gentle and reassuring, drawing smiles from whoever he has focused his attention on at the moment. Rhodes leans into the hand that Tony brushes against his back as he walks by, for a moment relying on his friend’s strength instead of his leg braces. Natalia is a constant presence by Tony’s side during movie nights, bumping her head against his hand like a cat just so he would play with her hair. Peter beams like he’s aced a test every time Tony squeezes his shoulder affectionately after helping with his physics homework. Steve rolls his eyes fondly whenever Tony pokes his abs teasingly after a workout, but always teases right back by lifting his shirt up to goad Tony into doing it again.

Being touched by Tony is like a drug, and Bucky has been addicted since the first time Tony held his hand. Which is just as well, because when Tony said he would be holding on for a while, he wasn’t kidding.

After that first time in the lab, Tony always, always holds Bucky close when they’re together.

He takes Bucky by the hand and drags him to dinner with the team, never loosening his grip even when Sam raises a pointed eyebrow at their joined hands. “For warmth,” Tony says, and when he takes his place at the table, he promptly kicks Steve out of his usual spot because he refuses to release their entwined fingers. Bucky just watches amusedly as Steve takes his old seat next to Rhodes and sits down next to Tony, only letting go so he can scoot closer and swing his arm across the back of Tony’s chair as they eat.

He drapes Bucky’s left arm over his shoulder when they’re out, snuggling close to his side as they take the long way walking home after dinner. “For warmth,” Tony says, even though he’s wrapped up in several layers of expensive wool and cashmere. Bucky just pulls him in tighter and steers him towards their favorite gelato bar for dessert, because even though Tony runs cold and always claims he doesn’t like sweets, Bucky knows he’d never say no to ice cream.

He sleeps on the right side of the bed so he can use Bucky’s arm as another pillow, despite knowing the hard planes of metal can’t possibly be comfortable for him. “For warmth,” Tony says as he presses a kiss to Bucky’s reconstructed shoulder and dozes off under their weighted blanket made of the fluffiest down feathers. Bucky just smiles indulgently and curls in closer, perfectly happy to tolerate overheating in his sleep if it means going to bed every night with his favorite person in the world.

Having Tony in his arms warms him from the inside out, like an endless summer after a lifetime spent lost in the cold.

#hahahaha the ending is cheesy as heck but idc!!! i love them your honor #is this my first real winteriron fic #buckytony #winteriron #starkbucks #bucky barnes #tony stark #kay writes things #ketzel #ask

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