#i feel like i might have missed one out??? doing this on mobile was a challenge

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

[taps mic] wings are to black mages as tails are to genomes, they're just axolotls about it

[zincbot]

the hits stop coming and they don't stop coming

[luveline]

missing spencer x stripper reader these days

—Spencer visits the strip club unannounced. fem, 1.1k

Spencer can’t be clinical about it forever. You’re a sex worker. He doesn’t care, but he can’t ignore it when you look like that. 

You’re standing by the bar slouched backward, your abdomen bent forward, an unsexy position if you were to ask a patron, but weirdly endearing from where Spencer’s standing. Your heels are completely clear. He can see your toes, their painted nails, and the bandaid on the back of your foot where you twist. “Can I have another water, please?” you ask. 

The lingerie is blue. Spencer loves blue. Three pieces, a bra, underwear, and a suspender belt holding stockings the colour of your skin. He knows this is just work, that he’s not being a good friend thinking about how pretty you really look, but it’s not just pretty. His ears start burning the longer he sees it. You shift your weight from one foot to another and your thighs looks soft. 

You take your new glass of water and press yourself flush to the wall. Then you level your gaze and see Spencer watching you, expression jumping from happy to confused to knowing. 

“Hey, Spencer,” you call, hard to hear over the music pounding and the sound of men jeering at to the left near the big stage. “Are you here to see me, or is it a pleasure trip?” 

He clears his throat as discreetly as possible and makes his way to you. The heels make you taller, your legs longer, and the lingerie reveals simple things he doesn’t often think about, the shapes of your breasts, the curve of your sides, your hips leading down… Oh, god, he thinks, feeling sorrier than sorry. 

“You okay?” 

“I came to ask you that.” 

You frown, perturbed. “Why?” 

“You didn’t answer your phone. I just wanted to make sure everyone was still being nice to you.” 

Your frown softens but doesn’t fade. “It’s broken.”

See, he’d believe you, but you used to wear this Tiffany necklace with a soft bevelled heart around your neck until recently, when you told Spencer you lost it, and showed him your second tell. When you’re in pain, your hands tend to strain from you, pushed out and fingers curling. When you lie, you smile too soon, and your eyes catch on the freckles on his nose. 

He pulls open his messenger back and sorts through papers for the black and silver mobile. It’s his emergency phone; should something ever happen to the first, he still wants to be able to contact the outside world. “Here,” he says, offering it to you. 

You’re still. “I can’t take your phone.” 

“It’s a spare. A burner phone? I bought it for emergencies, and this could be one.” 

“Spencer, I can’t…” 

“Please, will you? I’ll get another one.” 

You need a phone. Maybe ten years ago you could get by without one, but you need a phone to arrange bills, talk to your landlord, your boss, your doctor, whatever. Being without one in an emergency could mean bad things. 

You take it, biting the inside of your cheek. 

“It’s not very fast,” he says. “There’s a prepaid sim in there for now, but I can get you a real one.” 

“I can do that. Thank you, Spencer. I’ll pay you back.” 

“I don’t want you to pay me back,” he says with a real smile. 

“I could pay you back… with a dance?” You lean across to tap his elbow. “I saw you looking at me, Spencer Reid. We can go somewhere private.” 

Suddenly, it’s like the air in the room is being sucked out, leaving him, and you, and your beautiful bare skin alone in a tight space. 

He raises the arm you’ve tapped to tap you back. “You’re beautiful,” he says, sure you can see the blood in his cheeks, “but I don’t need anything from you. I want you to have the phone because I know you walk home by yourself most nights, it’s not so you owe me. You don’t owe me anything.” 

He shouldn’t have added that last part. He’s worried you’ll be angry with him for saying something that might embarrass you, but you give him a softer smile. Real, and nothing like the playful fire you’d held when you were offering a dance. “You sure?” you ask quietly. 

“I thought we were friends?” 

“I think so too.” 

“Can I ask you something unrelated?” 

You squint with mock suspicion. “That depends.” 

“Are you cold?” 

You laugh, grabbing his arm as you do to steady yourself on your precarious footwear. “I’m surprised I haven’t got hypothermia,” you say, face tipping gently to your shoulder. “But I don’t think I’d make any money in a hoodie.” 

Spencer doesn’t see how that could be true. You're one of the prettiest girls he’s ever seen, if not the prettiest, and even if you were in a hoodie that would still leave your legs to make money. He’s sure they could. He’s also sure that he shouldn’t say that aloud, instead digging through his bag for the real thing he’d brought you. “Here,” he says, handing you a chocolate chip and strawberry protein bar, “for your rumbling stomach.” 

Those few nights you’d stayed with him, you’d been a little shy and more afraid, probably worried he’d hurt you while you were vulnerable, though he had no intention, but you’d start to let pieces of you through the cracks. You like dancing but not men. You like fresh fruit, the smell of a new car, and buying new clothes. Stripping isn’t, like, easy, you’d said once, sitting cross-legged on his couch with a bowl of soup and that awful shiner, It probably looks easy. People think that the hardest part is being pretty, but it’s not. 

What’s the hardest part? he’d asked, sympathetic and curious simultaneously. The hardest part statistically would be the high rates of femicide and assault. 

It makes you so hungry. It’s like constantly working out every night.

“That’s for me?” you ask. 

“So you can survive your workout.” 

“Spencer, I think you’re the most romantic guy I’ve ever met.” 

He presses the protein bar in the same hand as the phone, ducking his head just a bit, just to see you clearly. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.” 

You seem to think this is the funniest thing he could’ve said, pressing your face briefly, heart-achingly to his shoulder, before pulling away to beam at him. “Don’t be sorry. You’re the best guy ever. And I had this investment banker come in a few days ago who gave me a hundred dollars to listen to him talk about his new kitten.” 

“I’m surprised I beat that.” 

You spread a hand over his heart. “I wouldn’t worry about competition, Dr. Reid.” 

[ironunderstands]

These Aventurine, Topaz and Jade comparisons are getting out of hand…

As much as I adore both of them, I think it’s very disingenuous to compare Aventurine and Topaz’s lore and be like “but they are the same!!!! If people like Aventurine and dislike Topaz that’s just misogyny!!! and like… no?

Topaz’s whole thing is that she doesn’t know the extent of the IPC’s evil, and believes that what she’s doing is genuinely the right thing to do. Even if she never had a choice in joining the IPC, she (incorrectly) believes what they did to her and her planet is justified, logical and moral, and for those reasons she stands with them. Part of this is likely IPC brainwashing, as she was probably very young when she became an indentured servant to them, and someone living on a planet on the brink of destruction would likely view anyone who stepped up to save them as heroes (imo the IPC likely waited for the point of no return to establish contact so her people had no other choice to except).

However Topaz got best end of the proverbial stick, her planet and its people were deemed useful by the IPC, and didn’t fight back, even if in the end they were still exploited.

Unfortunately, we have seen through Boothill, Belabog and Aventurine what happens when that isn’t the case.

Boothill’s planet got bombed and people genocided because they had a resource useful to the IPC, but were unwilling to cooperate with them or hand over their home, so the IPC decided to eradicate them.

Belabog had a debt owed to the IPC that was ridiculously high and very unfair to expect them to pay back, and had Topaz not convinced the higher ups to give them some time (which she got demoted for), the IPC would have taken Belabog by force

That leaves us with Aventurine, whose story is in no way on the same level of bad as Topaz’s. Unlike her, he has witnessed and experienced firsthand the truly awful shit the IPC can do.

They took custody of Sigonia and promised to offer the Avgin aid in their fight against the Katacans, at the very least protect them from harm. (Sidenote, since the IPC held control over Sigonia, they should have stopped the fighting in the first place). However, they simply stood by and did nothing, resulting in the deaths of around 6,000 Avgin, with around 3,000 went missing (or injured, I don’t remember, either way it’s bad).

But wait! It gets worse! Aventurine when he was still known as Kakavasha referred to the IPC as “the men in black/the men in black suits”, and his first master says he bought Aventurine from “the men in black/the men in black suits”, likely mocking the way he referred to them. Therefore THE IPC TOOK PART AND LIKELY EVEN CREATED A FUCKING SLAVE TRADE IN SIGONIA

Look being made into an indentured servant isn’t fun, but idk personally I’d take that any day of the week OVER BEING ENSLAVED

That’s not even to mention how horrible of a reputation Sigonian’s have in the galaxy, one likely spread by/resulting from the IPC themselves, as at least on Aventurines planet they do not have the mobility to make a name for themselves. (Honestly it’s a mini theory of mine that Aventurines scam is what partly contributed to this reputation, and his status as a slave is something the IPC conveniently left out in their broadcast about it-)

But, you might be saying, didn’t Aventurine have a choice to join the masked fools and leave the IPC, isn’t he free now? And to that I say, it’s complicated.

Considering the amount of suicidal shit Aventurine has done while being part of the IPC, he clearly hasn’t been having a fun time as a member of one, so why does he stick around, especially with the Fools invite? Even if he was a slave, does that absolve him of the crimes he’s committing now? What could justify his actions?

Revenge, plan and simple.

This is going to delve into some spoiler territory for the end of the Penacony 2.2 quest, something which I didn’t feel like mentioning earlier because I’m sorry but everyone and their mother already knows Boothill’s lore. Now, let’s get into it.

Aventurine accepts Jades offer to join the IPC, and when he becomes a Stoneheart, the first thing he asks about is the fate of the Avgin, to which he then learns that besides him, they are all dead. You see, from birth Kakavasha was pushed onto a pedestal as the savior of the Avgin, but now that there are no more Avgin to save, his primary motivator in becoming a Stoneheart (beyond not being enslaved anymore) is gone.

So what does he do now?

Simple, try to kill the motherfuckers behind it.

That’s why he takes on such risky gambles still, and why he wagers and wants Diamond to promote him to rank p46. The higher Aventurine gets the closer he gets to his goal of taking down the IPC for good.

Which is why his meeting with Boothill is so meaningful. I think Boothill is going to “kidnap” him and together they are gonna take down the wicked bitch that is Oswaldo Schneider for his literal crimes against humanity.

Mark my words, an IPC downfall is going to happen, and I think Topaz, Aventurine, Boothill and Ratio are going to be at the forefront of it.

However, Topaz and Ratio (and by extension the rest of the galaxy) have to learn/realize the true horrors of the IPC (although I can sense Ratio doesn’t really like them, and he’s learned a lot from Aventurine, I doubt he knows the full extent of the situation or is in any way happy about it). Therefore? Topaz mental breakdown arc? Ratio lore? PLEASE??!? The IP3 compliment one another so well and god I can’t wait for that to come to fruition.

I really want to see a Topaz and Ratio centered story leading up to an IPC smackdown, and I think we are gonna learn a lot more about how shitty they are in the later half of 2.2 and in 2.3 when the interlude and Jades release arrive.

As for the aforementioned Jade, she’s gonna need a Aventurine squared amount of trauma or reasoning behind her actions to seem in any way sympathetic, because right now she just seems like an evil bitch (in a semi good way, I will always respect the commitment to the bit) who loves her job and would make Machiavelli weep over how hard her ends are trying to justify her means.

[be3per]

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!

showering their wife some love 💗

PAIRING: you x jjk men

includes: kissing, praise, biting, fluff, crack, suggestiveness (can’t find out how to do the colour gradient thing on mobile 💔 i’ll try to find out how soon dw 🔥)

not gonna include all the men but i might do something related to this in the future!

love them <3

✶⋆.˚ GOJO SATORU

you woke up to the feeling of someone gently jumping on your bed. eyes fluttering open, you took in the sight of your lovely husband with your baby in his arms, making their chubby legs bounce around beside you.

“toru.. what’re you doing?” you smiled while wiping the sleep from your eyes. his piercing, yet soothing blue eyes staring at you. a huge grin was plastered on his face as he gently handed you the baby while you sat up.

“mornin’ baby.” he spoke, admiration in his tone. it always was there, but thicker than usual. he sat down on the bed beside you, pulling you into a kiss. he pulled away and took something out his pocket. something like a credit card?

you took it from his hands. “hun? this is..?”

“money. bought you a specific card linked to my account with a specific amount of money in it for special days.” he said confidently, kissing your cheek.

“special day..? today is..” your baby gently tugged on your shirt, smiling up at you.

“ma! mama!” you cooed at the baby, tapping her nose. “yes baby?”

“ma.. mama day..!!” you laughed softly, kissing your baby on the forehead as satoru watched you do so.

he’s so grateful to land you.

“mother’s day.” he whispered. you looked at him, your smile wider. you brought your other hand and grabbed his, kissing his palm.

“you’re ridiculous. you waking me up with our baby and giving me a whole card? did you teach her to say that as well?” he laughed, nodding and letting go of your hand to circle around your waist and pulled you closer to him. he kissed your jaw affectionately.

“‘course darling. anything for you. you know that, right?” you nodded, letting go of our baby and letting her crawl into his lap. you nuzzled your forehead against his, sighing contently.

“i’m so lucky to have you.” you mumbled.

“our baby is lucky to have you as her mama, ain’t that right?” and your baby giggled beneath him, innocent eyes sparkling.

he had his eyes.

✶⋆.˚ SUGURU GETO

you had to run errands, coming back with a loving kiss from your husband. “hey baby,” he whispered against your lips. “missed you.”

you giggled, kissing his cheek. he took notice of the grocery bags you were holding, immediately taking them from your hands. he began walking to the kitchen, you following right behind him. he placed the bags on the table.

you looked around for a moment, noticing how there was a rose petal on the floor.

“baby?” he hummed, turning around and raised an eyebrow. you picked up the rose petal, showing it to him.

“was this you?” he looked confused, grabbing it.

“no..? i would’ve shown you flowers if i bought them, babe.” you turned to the hallway, seeing more. a path?

you began following the path, suguru following in confusion.

it led to your shared bedroom. you turned the handle, candles and rose petals in the shape of a heart on the floor. you walked inside, the smell of the candles was comforting.

until you heard the door shut and lock with a ‘click!’ behind you.

“sugu..” he laughed softly behind you, scooping you into his arms swiftly and putting you down on the bed, trapping you between his arms.

“happy mother’s day, darling.” he whispered, kissing your neck as you squirmed, still trying to render in what was happening.

“m-mothers day?” you ask. “i don’t..”

“you already treat the girls well, baby. why don’t we make one ourselves?” he asked, his lips still attached to your skin.

“unless you’re not ready.” he corrected, now lifting his face and hovering over you. you thought for a moment.

a baby.. with him.

and with a nod, the two of you went in heated, out with a content sigh.

“i love you baby.” he whispered. you whimpered in response, voice slack from his repetitive thrusts and rough teasing. he only smirked in response, taking your lips against his instead.

✶⋆.˚ TOJI FUSHIGURO

you were busy making dinner, toji and megumi in the living room toying around. as you tossed vegetables into the boiling pot, a tug at your leg was felt and you looked down to see megumi and a huge grin on his face.

“hey megs.. what’s up?” you kneeled down, scooping him up and cradling him with one hand as you stirred the pot. he simply giggled in your grasp, little hands holding onto your arm.

toji came by from behind, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you back against his chest. “he said he missed you. tired of playing with daddy, huh?” he looked at megumi, a laidback smile on his face.

“dada wanted me to.. say something to you!” megumi exclaimed, making you pause with dinner. you looked over at megumi then over your shoulder to toji.

“i swear.. if you taught him something naughty like you did earlier..” toji’s rasp laugh filled the room, his chin resting on your shoulder and a kiss to your neck. “no ma, trust me.”

you playfully rolled your eyes and turned off the stove, looking back at megumi. “so megs? what’s up?” your other available hand went down and held toji’s hand, his large one interlocking fingers with yours.

“happy.. mother’s day!” he said, toji cheering behind you. one of his arms unwrapped your waist and went to ruffle megumi’s hair. a proud father.

“good job!” he praised, your eyes widening at the wholesome sight.

“oh my god!!” you say, laughing softly. “that’s what it was?” megumi nodded happily, toji’s cheering dimmed but his proud expression didn’t.

“i knew he could do it. got the confidence from his dad.” toji smirked and kissed your cheek before letting go of you, taking megumi from you. he let go of him, tossing him in the air and caching him. you snickered, shaking your head as you turned the heat on the stove on again.

toji let go of megumi, his little legs running to the living room before toji stood beside you, kissing your cheek.

“happy mother’s day, ma.” he said smoothly. you looked at him and kissed the corner of his lip, where the scar was. you could’ve sworn you saw hearts in his eyes.

“go monitor gumi, hun.” his hand met your ass and gave it a firm squeeze, a gasp leaving your lips. he smirked, lips going to your neck and sucking, leaving a fresh hickey.

“annnddd?” he coos, peppering kisses on your shoulder.

you sighed, smiling. “i’ll give you something in the bedroom later for my gift of gratitude.”

he gave your ass a squeeze again. “good girl.”

you could hear megumi call for toji and he gave you one more kiss on the cheek and a quick ‘love you’ before he went to the living room.

✶⋆.˚ NANAMI KENTO

you were waiting for kento to come home. he hated working overtime but he was still out.. for an hour.

worry filled you, but it quickly diminished when you heard the front door open. you rushed over, seeing him and his handsome face. a sigh left your lips as you embraced him, his hand going over and pressing against the small of your back.

“hey darling.” he mumbled. his other hand came and handed you a bouquet of flowers.

“aww ken! you got me these?” you smiled, kissing his cheek as he closed the door behind him and took off his coat and work shoes.

“mhm. today is mother’s day and even if we don’t have a kid, doesn’t mean that i’m gonna skip today.” you stared at your husband, tilting your head.

“huh—?” and he showed you a cage.. for a pet.

“NANAMI KENTO I’M GONNA MARRY YOU.” you screamed excitedly, taking the cage from him and running to the living room, his deep chuckles heard behind you as he followed suit. even if you didn’t know what was inside, you had a hunch. “we already are.” he says.

you giggled as you took off the blanket that covered the cage, revealing a small baby golden retriever. you tried not to scream again, not wanting to hurt the poor puppy. the dog wagged its tail happily, letting out small barks.

“i know that you’re scared to give birth, so i decided to get you the second best option. you’ve been obsessing over getting a dog so this works just as well.” you opened the cage, the puppy barking excitedly and jumping into your arms.

you looked at your husband, teary eyed.

“i love you.” you mumbled, emotional.

he only smiled, bending down a bit to kiss the top of your head.

“i love you more, beautiful.”

✶⋆.˚ RYOMEN SUKUNA

you groaned as sukuna massaged your shoulders and neck.

you were still confused as to why he was so passive today, but you didn’t complain.

“woman, i’ve been thinking.” you hummed. his movements slowed. “yeah kuna?”

“you’re my wife.” you slowly nodded, trying to see where this’ll go.

“i need a child.”

if you had a drink in your mouth, you would’ve spit it out.

“WHAT?”

“we’re making one tonight.”

the silence was thick, but judging how he didn’t say anything more, he was dead serious.

“kuna.. i would love to but.. i only every had one of your cocks. can i try both then?” his cheeks flushed, a cough coming from his throat.

“yeah, sure woman. make sure not just cry as much tonight then.” you nodded, stomach full of butterflies. he was direct, demanding. but he was softer today, was there a reason? wait..

“are you only saying this because it’s mother’s day?” he stopped massaging you, moving over to stand in front of you. he kneeled down in front of you, kissing your thigh.

“not just because. for some reason, i’ve been tempted to put a little shit in your tummy for days.” you smiled down at him, hand going in his hair and carding through his locks.

“wording it like that makes me feel weird.. but since it’s the same message, that’s alright.” you laughed softly, his hand coming up and cupping your cheek before he stood back up and kissed your lips.

“you’ll be the perfect wife.” he whispers.

“happy mother’s day, woman.” and you giggle.

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY TO ALL YOU BEAUTIFUL MAMAS OUT THERE!!! 🗣️🗣️🫶

[enbyfvcker]

[Through the phone]

Wade Wilson x Logan (worst!wolverine)

Word count: 1,4k

Summary/prompt: Logan isn't used to this technology thing, but he lets Wade gift him a phone to make him happy. Turns out he finds rather... enticing ways to use his new phone when Wade's away on a job and he's feeling extra needy.

Tags: Smut, established relationship, sub/dom undertones, soft!dom Wade, masturbation, praise kink, phone sex, Logan likes being talked through it.

Wade liked to drag Logan along with him for shopping like he usually does after receiving from his mercenary jobs. He liked spoiling his little kitty cat and buying him stuff.

Logan would say 'no' at first, but then Wade would insist and insist, and well, he was mostly bored anyway, so he eventually gives in. When it comes to Wade, Logan usually gives in.

They were both in their civvies: Logan wearing denim pants, a wife pleaser, and a flannel. All his clothes were bought by Wade after he moved in. He apparently seemed to know what Logan likes or not.

Wade was wearing a hoodie and with the hood over his head. Logan noticed that the merc still wasn't fully in his comfort zone when he went out in public without his suit because of his appearance. But he seemed to deal better with it - with all the stares - when Logan was there by his side.

Wade was strolling around with the cart filled with things (variating from cleaning products, towels, food, unicorm plushies...) while Logan follows behind him, his hands in his pockets.

Wade comes to a stop when they pass over the eletronics session, looking at all the mobiles on display.

"Hey, peanut?"

"Hm."

"You don't really have a phone, do you? Wanna pick one?" Wade asks with a grin.

"Why?"

"Well, isn't it inconvenient?"

"Not really... I can't think of a situation where I would need one. And I'm also not really good with... Technology and stuff."

"Oh, okay..." Wade pouts like a hurt child, and Logan rolls his eyes.

"What?"

"Well, what if you miss me one day when I'm out for a job and wanna talk to me? You could also always text Laura to check up on her sometimes." Wade suggests and gives a dramatic sigh. "But well, if you don't want it..."

Logan considers for a moment and grunts lowly as he walks to the phones on display and tries to pick one. Wade watches with sparkling eyes and a grin.

He didn't really know the difference between the damn things. There were so many models, so he just chose a random one and placed it in the cart.

"There."

"Yay! Can't wait to introduce you to the technology world. You might wanna stay away from Ao3, though... there's some pretty nasty stuff in there. I mean, I love 'em, don't get me wrong. But I don't think you'd be pleased with what our fans fantasize about us."

"The fuck are you talking about?" Logan asks with an raised eyebrow. He was used to Wade saying weird shit like that. Honestly, he should just stop trying to understand the guy.

"Nothing, princess! Let's check out, shall we?"

...

It took some teaching from Wade for Logan to understand how to use his new phone. He didn't really use it much, though. But Wade was right. It was nice being able to talk to Laura and hear about how she's doing more often. They would meet and hang out every couple week, but her life seemed pretty busy after she started college. So now they could always call each other to catch up.

Wade was also right about... Well, the other part.

Usually, Logan would come along with Wade to help with any missions, but sometimes Wade would just go alone.

It was dark outside already, and it has been some hours since Wade wasn't home. Times like that, when he’s bored and lonely, he craves a drink more than anything. It was really damn hard trying to stay sober.

He walks to Wade's room and lies on his stomach on the bed, grunting with a soft rumble on his chest.

He missed Wade.

God, he can't believe it.

The apartment was finally silent for once, and he missed Wade's stupid voice.

He feels ridiculous.

Logan sniffs on the pillows, smelling Wade's scent. He smelled like gun powder and strawberry lotion. He feels his cock harden at the scent and he groans with frustration, his cheeks a soft blush and his eyebrows furrowed. His fists clenches as he starts to rut slowly against he matress, feeling completely pathetic.

It wasn't enough.

He takes his phone from his pocket and turns on his back, dialing the third contact from alphabetic order from his list.

He only has 3:

Althea

Laura

Wade

It rings and rings, and Logan almost just cancels the call, but then he hears Wade's voice.

"Hi, peanut. Missing me already? I do, too, honey- Motherfucker! Have some manners, can't you see I'm on the phone!" Wade grunts in pain over the line after apparently taking a couple shots.

"Is this not a good time?" Logan asks with a low voice, his hand moving down his own abdomen.

"No, no, baby girl. I always have time for you." Logan feels his cock twitching at Wade's words, his breathing getting more elaborated. He could hear Wade grunting, probably in the middle of a fight. "Don't worry, as I soon as I wrap this up, I'm coming home to you, kitten."

Logan usually scowl and reprimanded Wade at the pet names he usually uses, but Wade could hear softs gasps over the line so quietly he almost misses it, and if he had any eyebrows, they'd be raised.

"Don't take long." Logan whispers, his voice hoarse as he palms himself over his boxers.

"What are you doing?" Wade asks with a clear grin on his voice, and Logan hears a few shotguns and screams.

"Talking to you." Logan replies bluntly. He couldn't help but let out a soft moan when he slipped his hand under his underwear to touch himself properly. He gives a couple slow strokes, biting his lip strongly enough to draw blood.

"Nothing more?"

"No..."

"Oh, my little honey badger, you're a terrible liar." Wade accuses, making Logan's cheeks flush harder. "Are you that needy, hm? Kitty can't wait for me to get home?"

Wade doesn't receive a response, only desperate whimpers that were clearly escaping through bitten lips. He runs his katana through a couple of criminals and chuckles to himself.

"So cute, princess. You just needed to hear my voice, didn't you? I bet you must be dripping all over my bed right now. Bad boy... Gotta train you to learn and wait for me."

"Wade..." Logan grunts, his hand moving faster at a steady rhythm, his eyes shut tightly as he imagines it is Wade's scarred hands on him. He rubs his thumb over his tip and whines.

"It's okay, baby. I'll let it slide this time. Be a good kitty and make yourself feel good, yes? You sound so pretty."

Logan moans louder at the praise, his cock twitching and leaking pre cum into his fingers. He starts rutting his hips up, fucking his fist at a desperate pace.

"Keep talking..." Logan half begs half commands, making Wade smirk under his mask as he dodges from a chair that hit the wall behind him.

"You know, for someone who's always telling me to shut up, you sure sound quite desperate for it right now. I know you love it, kitten, even if you won't admit it. I know you love hearing me say how good you are for me, how pretty you look when you're all messy and pliant under me, how much of a good fucking boy you are..."

Logan straight up whimpers.

"Are you gonna be a good boy for me and make a mess all over yourself, baby?"

"Wannabegood, wannabegood, wannabegood..." Logan babbles between needy moans, and Wade knew he was close.

"I know you do, princess." Wade shots the last one of the criminals and they drop dead to the floor along with the others. "Cum for me."

"Wade, fuck-!" He whines as he spills all over his fist and stomach, his back arching off the bed. He strokes himself through the aftershocks, his moans turning into heavy pants as he catches his breath. He feels a rush of embarrassment as his mind clears off, but then he hears Wade praising him.

"Good kitty. Alright, I'm done here." Wade says as he looks to all the bodies around him. "I'm coming home, darling! I have a boner the size of a lighthouse right now. It's really hard focusing on fighting like this."

Logan chuckles, his breathing still heavy. "Just come home already."

[aventurineswife]

Hello!! I saw your requests were open and was wondering if I could requests how the brothers would react to and treat an MC with chronic illnesses that cause them to need mobility aids like a cane, rollator and wheelchair to get around depending on how they feel (I mostly have to use a rollator and it's a pretty pink) but it also causes them to have dizzy spells really easily so they may have to randomly sit while out and about, leaves them with very little energy most days but they push through cause that's life but there's some days where the chronic fatigue and chronic pain keeps them bed ridden (and thus unable to attend RAD). I've been struggling for a year myself and I just really am turning to my boys for comfort. Even if you can't get to this or don't feel you can write for this I really appreciate just reading it! I'm excited to read more from you truly! Hope you have a good day!

“Rest Easy, Love, We've Got You”

Tags: Obey Me Brothers x Reader [Lucifer. x Reader, Mammon x Reader, Leviathan x Reader, Satan x Reader, Asmodeus x Reader, Beelzebub x Reader, Belphegor x Reader], Chronic Illness Representation, Disability Awareness, Mobility Aids, Fluff & Comfort, Slice of Life, Caregiving Dynamics, Emotional Support, Empathy.

Warnings: Contains themes of chronic illness, fatigue, and pain, Depictions of caring/supportive relationships, Mentions of mobility aids, Focus on emotional comfort and well-being.

A/N: First of all, thank you so much for your request! I really hope this piece brings you some comfort and makes you feel supported. I know that living with chronic illness can be really tough, but please remember that you’re strong, and you deserve all the care, love, and support in the world. I’m sending you so much warmth, and I truly hope you get well soon and take care of yourself! 🫂💖✨ Thank you again for sharing your request, and I’m wishing you nothing but health and happiness! 💖

Lucifer was never one to show his emotions easily, but seeing you struggle with something so beyond your control weighed heavily on him. His stoic demeanor often concealed the concern that lurked beneath.

When he first noticed you using a rollator, he didn't flinch. But the moment he saw the one you picked out, he couldn’t help but offer a small smile—a rare sight for the others, as if approving your choice.

"Let me know if you need assistance, MC." he'd offer, his voice calm and gentle. "You shouldn't feel the need to push yourself too hard." His eyes softened when you mentioned feeling dizzy or fatigued, a far cry from his usual commanding tone. He'd always make sure to walk beside you when you were out, offering his arm for support or using his influence to make sure no one bumped into you.

If you had to miss RAD for the day, he'd send you a tray of your favorite food, made with care. He'd also stop by with paperwork, though the way he would look at you was soft with understanding, as if telling you that his pride in you never wavered, even if you couldn't be there today.

"I don’t mind handling things here. Rest as you need."

Mammon, while initially unsure how to react to your condition, soon became your most fervent protector. He had a big heart, even if it was wrapped up in layers of greed and bravado. When you first mentioned you had a mobility aid, he was quick to say, "Oi, if anyone tries to mess with ya, you tell 'em I’ll handle it!"

He wasn’t always the most graceful about it, but his intentions were always pure. If he saw you sitting down because you were too dizzy, he'd immediately rush to your side, wrapping an arm around you to steady you.

"Ya don’t need to push yerself, ya know? Ye’re gonna hurt yourself!" he’d say, not fully understanding what it meant to push through chronic pain, but he’d do everything in his power to help.

He would try to pamper you on days you had to stay in bed, coming in with snacks, blankets, and random trinkets that he thought might cheer you up. "Ya deserve all the best stuff, so don’t feel bad about it!" he’d grumble, sitting by your side, even if he wasn’t the most delicate at times.

Leviathan was the type to do a lot of thinking and worrying in silence, so it took him some time to come to terms with how to best support you. His first instinct was to ask you if you needed help, but his anxiety often made him second-guess himself. He was nervous about saying the wrong thing, so he focused on actions rather than words.

One day, you were struggling to get from one place to another, and before you could even say a word, Levi appeared with your rollator, offering it to you with a shy but earnest smile. "I-I saw you needed this... I thought maybe this would make it easier...?" he’d say, voice awkward but full of sincerity. "Y-you don’t need to go anywhere by yourself! I can help... I can even carry your stuff if you want!"

His heart would ache every time you mentioned a day when the fatigue hit you hardest, and when you stayed in bed, he’d be there with games, movies, and all the comfort items he could think of. He'd worry about you endlessly, but it came from a place of deep care.

"Please, MC, take it easy... You don't have to do everything." he’d say, hoping you knew you could rely on him for anything you needed.

Satan was one of the few who could immediately grasp the depth of what you were going through. With his intelligence and empathy, he had no trouble understanding chronic pain and illness, as he had dealt with his own inner turmoil for years. When you talked about your mobility aids and dizziness, he listened intently and asked all the right questions to understand how he could be of help.

"Your well-being comes first." he’d remind you, offering his support without hesitation. If you were feeling fatigued, he wouldn’t insist on anything. Instead, he’d suggest the most calming ways to spend the day together, whether it was reading or simply relaxing by your side.

If you had to miss RAD, he'd make sure to bring something comforting—be it a book, tea, or a quiet space to rest. He was always gentle in his approach, never pushing you to do anything you weren’t comfortable with.

"I don’t mind handling things in your stead. Take care of yourself, MC." he’d say softly, his gaze full of respect.

Asmodeus was quick to fall into a protective role when it came to you. He absolutely adored your pink rollator, often calling it "fabulously cute" and making sure it was always in the best condition. He had a tendency to fuss over you, but it came from a place of deep love and care.

"Sweetie, you must be more careful! I can’t have you looking so tired all the time, can I?" He would go overboard on pampering you with lavish gifts, massages, and all the luxury his power could provide. His eyes would soften every time you told him how much energy it took just to get through the day, and his heart would ache for you on the days you were bedridden.

"You deserve nothing but the best, darling." he'd say, fluffing your pillows and pampering you with as much comfort as possible. He’d always remind you that he was there to help with anything—whether you needed someone to talk to, someone to hang out with, or just someone to make you smile.

Beelzebub’s approach was simple: he just wanted you to feel as comfortable as possible. He was incredibly perceptive when it came to your needs, and if he noticed you were struggling, he'd make sure to do whatever it took to help. He was quiet, but there was a deep tenderness to his actions.

If you needed to sit down because of dizziness, Beel would sit beside you without a word, making sure you had a safe space. He'd always keep an eye on your health, ensuring you had everything you needed, whether it was food, comfort, or just some time to rest.

He was also the type to sneak in with snacks or meals when you were bedridden, always making sure you were well-fed and comfortable. If you couldn’t attend RAD, he wouldn’t push you, simply reassuring you that he’d handle things and give you all the space you needed.

"Don’t worry about anything. Just rest." he’d say quietly, always the gentle giant, putting your needs above his own.

Belphegor, ever the laid-back one, wasn’t always the first to jump into action, but he was incredibly in tune with your emotions. He knew what it was like to struggle with energy, and while he’d never outwardly admit it, he had a quiet, empathetic understanding of your chronic fatigue.

On days when you couldn’t get out of bed, he’d quietly slip in, laying beside you, offering his warmth and presence as a comfort. If you needed a cane or rollator, he’d be there to grab it without question, lazily moving about the house to ensure you weren’t uncomfortable.

"Don’t worry. Take a nap," he’d whisper with a sleepy grin. "I’ll make sure the others don’t bother you."

Belphegor might not have been as vocal about his concern as some of the others, but his gentle actions showed his love and dedication. He’d take care of everything else while you rested, making sure you had one less thing to worry about.

[mindfulstudyquest]

❥﹒♡﹒☕﹒ 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘀 pros and cons

a girl asked me to talk about my erasmus experience in the questions box and she inspired me to make this post. if you have posts to request don't be shy! unfortunately i don't have all the time i would like to uptade but i will try to keep up.

erasmus is a student mobility program of the european union that allows a european student to attend a school in another EU country for a period of time legally recognized by their home institution.

it is a temporary experience with many benefits, enabling students to engage with different cultures and customs. due to its non-permanent nature, i believe it is one of the most beautiful opportunities for a student to feel completely free to explore and understand themselves, to figure out what they want and do not want from their life and educational path.

but let’s start by discussing its downsides. unfortunately, not everything is perfect.

𝟭. paperwork ( 📄 )

hey, i know, guys, i'm not the first or the only one to say this, but the paperwork for erasmus is a pain in the ass. it's not only extremely complicated, but universities (mine for sure, but i know it's a common experience) provide zero help in filling out the documentation. especially if you're not familiar with bureaucracy (and at 20 it’s normal not to be familiar with these things), it can seem like an insurmountable mountain. but if i, someone who doesn’t understand anything about this stuff, managed to get through it, you can do it too. typically, the documentation includes:

various information like ID, health card, and the IBAN of an account in your name (or joint name) where they will deposit the scholarship.

learning agreement, another plague sent from hell because you usually have to deal with two professors, one from your university and one from the host university, who clearly would prefer to mop the sea than help you fill out your learning agreement.

financial agreement for the scholarship, which has specific deadlines by which you need to submit documents (usually IBAN, learning agreement, and acceptance letter from the host university). fun fact: i almost missed this and didn’t receive the scholarship because these deadlines were buried deep in my university’s website (don’t be like me, make sure to be informed well about the financial agreement or you risk being left without money).

the best advice i can give you is to find someone from your university who has already done the erasmus where you’re supposed to go and ask them for some information. they, having gone through it, know what mistakes to avoid and what’s best to do. the offices often assume too many things and give you insufficient and hasty information.

𝟮. finding an accomodation ( 🏡 )

this too, another pain in the ass. it depends on the city, but here in madrid, finding a place to live has been a nightmare (and indeed, i've significantly overshot the budget i had set for rent). you have various options for accommodation:

student dormitories these solutions may seem the best at first glance, but they aren’t always. here in madrid, the fees for the dormitories at my campus cost more than my current rent, plus having only one kitchen for an entire floor is not exactly optimal comfort, especially if, like me, you cook a lot.

apartment studio/flat this is definitely the most comfortable option, but also the most expensive. a studio outside the center in big cities can cost up to €1000 a month. however, if you can afford it and prefer privacy, then go for it. at first, living alone might not be easy, especially if it’s your first time away from family, but you’ll get through it quickly.

room in an apartment this can be the best or the worst option depending on your luck because having flatmates means cohabitation, which is not always pleasant. if you're going in erasmus with someone you know, it might be optimal to share an apartment or take two rooms in a larger flat. personally, i rented a room in an apartment with three other people (two bathrooms and a kitchen), and i couldn’t be happier; i love my flatmates, and we quickly became friends. we cook together, go out together, spend entire evenings chatting and joking and they helped me a lot overcoming the first crisis. i realize, though, that i am an exception, so choose your accommodation carefully.

in short, consider your choice based on 3 factors:

proximity to the university/public transport links i study outside of madrid, almost an hour by bus from my place, but i live practically across from the bus stop, so it’s not a problem at all.

centrality/connection to the city center you're in erasmus to experience the city!

comfort of the place such as private bathroom (very hard to find but not impossible), utensils, AC, appliances (we have a dishwasher at home, and i assure you it saves our lives everytime).

𝟯. homesickness ( 🤧 )

yes, everyone feels homesick, even the most stoic. but guarantee you, you'll get through it. first of all erasmus, fortunately or unfortunately, isn’t forever. it’s a 6 month/1 year experience that is incredibly valuable for your personal growth, at the end of this period of time, you'll be back home. secondly, you can always stay in touch with friends and family in the age of technology. those who truly love you will support you in this project and do everything they can to make you feel less lonely. lastly, during erasmus, you’ll make many amazing friendships and connections that you otherwise would never have the chance to make.

𝟰. language barrier ( 🦜 )

i can’t say much about this, i've never studied spanish in my life, but, since i'm italian, i have no trouble following the lessons and understanding people when they speak, even though i'm still not able to express myself well in this new language. however, by living in another country, you’ll learn the language much faster and more effectively than with any academic course. in just a month, i already feel much more comfortable with spanish, and everyday i learn new things.

and of course, i could talk for hours about the benefits of erasmus, but i might save my praises for a post i'll write later, towards the end of this experience.

i can tell you that in just a month here, a whole new world has opened up for me. not only is the thrill of being in another city, in another country, an electrifying flow of continuous energy, but i’ve also realized things about myself that i might have ignored before.

i have much more confidence in myself; i feel freer, less afraid of making mistakes. it’s true, i’m far from my family and friends, but this also means i’m far from all those eyes under which i always try to appear perfect.

i crave to see and learn, i'm eager to discover new things, and this drives me to do things i probably wouldn’t do in my home country, to appreciate their flavor and indulge in the uncertainty of "maybe i’ll like this".

for the first time, i’m experiencing a new country without the rose-tinted filter of a short vacation. i’ve never felt as rich and full of gratitude as i do now, and i hope this is a feeling every student can experience.

so, erasmus, yes or no? absolutely yes.

i’d love to keep updating you on my experience abroad. what do you think? would you like that? let me know in the comments! star kisses ⭐

[togrowoldinv]

Sweetheart

College!Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

You’re at a party when your friend’s older sister approaches you. One thing leads to another and you wind up alone with her

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Cursing, oral, fingering, daddy kink, dom!natasha

Note: This is spicy lol. Follow my library blog @togrowoldinvlibrary for fic updates! I’m aware a part cuts off on mobile. See the library reblog for more. Enjoy!

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist

There she is. Standing across the room from you with a beer in her hand is the girl you have had a crush on from the moment you laid eyes on her. Natasha Romanoff.

Everyone’s favorite mystery girl that no one could seem to get with. The hottest guys and the hottest girls had no luck.

You are friends with her sister, Yelena, and there were countless times that people would ask her how to be approach her sister. She would warn them against trying. Nobody ever succeeded.

She catches you looking at her, but instead of shooting you a hard glare, she smirks at you and takes a sip of her drink. You shiver.

“What was that about?” Your friend Kate appears at your side.

“Huh?” You try to play dumb.

“Nat totally checked you out,” she says.

“What? No she didn’t!”

“Sure, okay,” Kate teases. “That’s why she’s coming this way.”

Before you can reply, Kate sneaks off probably to find her girlfriend. And you turn to walk the other direction, but you run directly into a person.

“Hey sweetheart,” Natasha says. She’s called you that since the first night she met you. Yelena had invited you home for the holidays and Nat coined the term for you. The close proximity to her makes your heart pound.

“Oh hey Nat,” you reply, trying your best to sound cool and collected.

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” Nat says. The party is crowded, but it feels like you’re the only two people in the room.

“Yelena has been busy with Kate, so-“

“That’s a shame,” Nat says. She moves closer to you. Her hand comes to your chin and lifts it up. It’s like she’s trying to memorize your face with how intensely she’s staring. “I missed you, pretty girl.”

You open your mouth to speak, but no words come.

“Cute,” she says. Her eyes look from your lips to your eyes and back. You think she just might kiss you when suddenly you’re interrupted. Natasha drops her hand from your face and steps back.

“Hey y/n,” a voice comes from behind you. You turn to see a girl that you’ve been out with a couple of times, but she ended up dating someone else instead.

“Oh hey Wanda,” you say.

“Are you here alone?” Wanda asks. You don’t miss the jealous glance she throws at Natasha.

Nat knows what happened between you and Wanda because Yelena had told her. Secretly, she asks after you often.

“Actually,” the redheaded woman interjects. She wraps an arm around your waist. “She’s with me tonight.”

Wanda is taken back by her words. She gives you a measly smile and walks away.

“What was that for?” You ask Nat once Wanda’s out of earshot.

Nat pulls you by your waist upstairs and into a room where you could hear each other better. She shuts the door behind you.

“Well?”

“She treated you like shit. You can’t fall back into that scheme she does. Sure she’s hot, but it’s not worth it,” Nat explains.

“You don’t get to make that choice for me. I didn’t mind telling her that I was here alone. And do you really think low enough of me that you think I’d fall back into her trap?” You ask her. You’re feeling yourself get angry, but Nat just smiles. You sigh. “What?”

“That is the most I have ever heard you speak,” Natasha says.

You feel heat rush up your neck. The fact that you’re alone here with Nat is finally sinking in.

“Oh, I guess I’m kinda quiet. But I just needed you to not have a bad opinion of me and think I’d try to get with her. She has a boyfriend and I would never,” you explain.

She crosses the room to get closer to you. Once again, she invades your space.

“You’re cute when you ramble,” she says. She’s just inches from your face.

“Natasha,” you say, practically breathless from how close she is. You’ve never seen her this up close before. She’s even more beautiful than you thought.

Nat takes your cheeks in her hands and rubs her thumbs over them.

“You’re gorgeous,” she says. You could shrink under her strong gaze, but you stand tall. “Did you know that?”

“No,” you mumble honestly. You’ve never been one to boast about your appearance.

“Oh that won’t do,” she says. “Can I make you know it?”

You’re not sure what you’re about to agree to, but you want to say yes more than anything in the world.

“Yes please,” your words come out and you feel embarrassed but Natasha doesn’t let that last.

She surges forward and presses a soft kiss to your lips. It feels like it never has before. One of her hands comes to the back of your neck as she deepens the kiss. Her tongue slips into your mouth and your knees actually do go weak. She gives you a break.

“Do you believe it now?” She asks.

“I might need some more convincing,” you try your best attempt at flirting.

Natasha smirks and nudges you onto the bed. She crawls onto it and straddles your waist.

“So you can flirt,” she marvels. She leans down and kisses you once again. Her lips feel even better this time. Soon, her lips find their way onto your neck. You feel her lips, tongue, and teeth against your skin.

“Oh Nat,” you moan out and she smiles against your neck.

“Keep doing that, baby. Tell me what you like,” she says between kisses.

“Okay,” you say.

She stops kissing you and lifts her head up. You take in the sight of her above you. She’s ethereal. Her fingers slip under your shirt hem.

“You’re going to have to answer me better than that,” Natasha commands. You look at her confusedly.

“Um- yes?” You try.

“No. Come on, baby girl, you know what I’m trying to get you to say. Can I take your shirt off?” She feeds you the question.

It hits you then what she means. You’ve not called anyone that before, but it feels right with her here taking such good care of you already.

“Yes daddy,” you say. She smirks.

“Good girl.”

Natasha picks up the pace from there. She takes off your shirt and her own before slipping off your bra as well.

She takes one breast in her hands as she licks your nipple on the other. Nat takes her time worshipping your body. Each second makes you wetter and wetter.

“Let daddy take care of you,” she says as she moves down your legs and unzips your pants, slipping them off expertly.

Nat litters soft kisses to your thighs. Your body is threatening to reach your peak without her even touching you right where you need her.

“Natasha, please,” you can’t help but beg. She stops kissing your thighs and you practically whine at the loss of contact.

“Patience, dorogoy,” she says. You don’t know what it means, but the accent she uses makes you even wetter.

She ghosts a finger over your panties and moans when she feels the wetness through them.

“Did anyone ever touch you like this?”

“No. Only you, daddy,” you answer.

“Where did my shy girl go?” She teases you. You turn red at her words.

She smirks and finally pulls your panties to the side before she slips her fingers through your wetness.

“Fuck,” she mumbles. “All for me.”

“All for you.”

She plunges a finger inside of you and immediately you’re moaning louder. Nat wastes no time adding a couple of more fingers and filling you up.

“You take my fingers so well, sweetheart. Imagine what you’d do to my strap.”

And you do imagine it. You can’t help but want that to happen with her.

“Nat I’m so-“

“Come for me, baby. Come for daddy,” she says.

And you do. You coat her fingers in cum and she works you through every moment of your orgasm.

“Fuck that was so hot,” Natasha says. She brings her fingers to her mouth and licks them.

You watch in awe as she keeps eye contact with you. She smirks and shifts to kiss you. Nat leaves you with a bite to your lip before she slips her fingers into your mouth. You suck on them as she wants you to. Once she relents, you try to take control.

“I want to taste you,” you tell her.

“Oh, do you?” Natasha teases.

“Please daddy.”

“Well, I can’t say no to that.”

She lays on the bed next to you and unhooks her bra. It falls to the side. Your eyes go wide at her breasts.

You move over her and suck on her nipples probably for far too long. But the moans you’re pulling from her are well worth it.

Eventually you move on and take her pants off. You’re careful as you pull them down her legs and she smiles at your softness.

“You’re not going to hurt me, sweetheart,” she says. You take them off. She’s wearing boxers underneath. Your brain is fuzzy as you slip them off of her as well.

“Natasha, you’re so beautiful,” you tell her as she lays there naked. She seems shy for first time.

You wonder if this is why no one ever succeeds in getting with her. She has more layers than you thought.

“Please,” she says.

You don’t tease her like she teased you and instead jump right in. You lick her softly and she pushes your head further into her center.

When you take her clit in your mouth, she moans and you add a finger to work in tandem with your mouth.

“Fuck baby,” she says. “I’m so close.”

“Come for me, daddy,” you say.

You love the taste of her against your tongue as she comes. She relaxes and you move up the bed to lay next to her. Nat turns her head to you and you feel shy again.

“Do you know you’re gorgeous now?” She asks.

In lieu of answering, you kiss her lips ever so softly. It takes all of your confidence, but the way she chases after your lips for another kiss gives you a boost.

“We should probably get back to the party,” she says.

“Yeah,” you agree.

But neither of you make the move to get up.

“Yelena’s gonna kill me,” you wonder out loud.

“Oh god. Please don’t say my sister’s name when I’m naked in bed with you,” Natasha says. She feigns disgust and you grin. “But I won’t let her kill you.”

“Thanks Nat.”

After a few more moments, you both get up and find your clothes.

“You ready?” She asks. It seems like another loaded question. You’re ready for everything with this woman and you hope so much that she’ll indulge you in this fact.

“I am,” you answer.

Nat surprises you when she intertwines her fingers with yours before you exit the room together.

You’re hand in hand with Natasha Romanoff, the woman you’ve been in love with for some time. It’s absolutely perfect.

[pumpkins-journal]

✮ When He Smiles ✮

gn!reader x choso (can be platonic or pre-relationship)

You're curious about how the man could be so expressive, and yet... (Pure fluff n vibes)

inspired by that one panel of embarrassed choso and the thought of him sending dog stickers w a straight face just tickles me

also posting this on mobile bc im impatient so sorry its a bit ugly looking aUGH i might fix it when i get home (update i fixed it a lil)

Choso was an enigma to you. When you talk to him he'd have an aura of indifference about everything around him. He always seemed so… detached. Even with pestering his dear half-brother to call him big brother, the only semblance of excitement he'd show was a slight pitch in tone laced with a firm insistence.

Which is why you'd be caught off guard when you’d start communicating via text. You’d double-take at the cute emojis attached to his messages, the occasional puppy stickers meeting your gaze. 

you: choso is that a dog choso: Yes. Yuji taught me how to send these stickers. Do you like them? you: yea i do! choso: I'm glad. I'll be sure to keep using them then. 😄 choso: He also taught me how emojis work.

It was especially curious when you’d find yourself looking over his shoulder, watching him respond to his little brother in the same manner- emojis, stickers and all- and your eyes would trail up to see that same deadpanned look on his face. Once he returned your gaze, you leaned back, face warm with embarrassment.

“Ah, sorry. Was I too close?” you asked. 

“No, you’re fine.” Choso shook his head before showing his screen. “Yuji was showing me a trailer for a movie he'd like to see. It's supposed to be about the lives of people, their relationship with the creatures in their world and teamwork.” You looked down at the screen, watching a scene of a young boy with a small yellow mouse-like creature.

“I think I may like this one. He reminds me of Yuji.”

You couldn't help but smile at this.

“You really love your brother, huh?”

“I do.” he lowered the phone as the video played. “I love all of my brothers equally and as deeply. As the oldest, it's my duty to protect them and care for them.”

“Hmm.” you mused as you sat next to him while he replied to the messages. You stared out into the fields before you and leaned back, the silence keeping you company.

“Hey, Choso?”

“Hm?”

You tapped your finger against the bench, trying to form the question in your head.

“I've noticed that you don't… really emote much? Not outside of fighting, I mean. Not that that's a bad thing! I was just curious.”

“Hm.”

The silence made you acutely aware of an uncomfortable pit in your stomach, already regretting asking a question that probably drew more attention to how different he was.

Something you already know he struggles with.

“Hey, uh, you don't have to answer–”

“I'm not the best at expressing myself.”

You paused, tilting your head at him in surprise. His face was still focused on the screen.

“Emotions are draining. It takes so much energy to smile, to cry, to laugh. I can feel it all, and I embrace it– it helps me feel the slightest bit human, but it's hard to convey that. I'm aware oftentimes it makes me come across as uncaring, so I'm thankful for learning about emojis and stickers. Hopefully they can get across my feelings better when I talk to others.”

He turned to you, head tilted ever so slightly.

“Sorry if you’ve been uncomfortable all this time.”

“What- no!” You waved a hand. “It’s not a big deal, I was just curious! It kinda makes sense in a way, lots of people are like that.”

“..Are they?” You didn't miss how his eyes widened just a touch at this. You nodded with a smile.

“Yeah, some people can speak their mind, while others struggle. It's just a part of being human, I think. It doesn't make you weird or anything like that! Y'know, Nanami also tends to be straight faced, it adds to his vibe.”

“Yes, but I'm also aware that his 'vibes' make him incompatible outside of sorcery work. He doesn't seem to like to entertain Yuji or the other children when they're having fun, unlike Gojo.”

“What, do you wanna be like Gojo then?”

You watched as his face scrunched up in response, the line across his nose becoming uneven.

“I would rather be exorcised, actually.”

You paused at this before breaking out in a fit of laughter. Choso watched as joyful tears rolled down your cheeks, grin stretching from ear to ear. The mark on his nose settled into a warmer, more bubby form as a gentle smile appeared on his face.

A smile that you caught as you opened your eyes, your heart skipping a beat.

“..Hey, Choso?”

“Mh-hm?”

Your smile softened as well, cheeks tingling from your earlier outburst.

“You have a very handsome smile.”

The male tensed at this, covering his face as he turned away. You grinned at his bashfulness, nudging him slightly.

“Oh, c'mon! Can't take a compliment?” you teased, watching his ears turn a few shades darker. He tried to shoo you away with his free hand, only succeeding in making your playful bullying more insistent.

Expressionless or not, you knew that when Choso felt things, he felt them with everything he had.

That being said, you made sure to treasure the memory of his smile for the rest of your days, a rare treat for you and you only.

[muddyorbsblr]

a startling realization pt1

See my full list of works here!

Summary: Oakley returns to campus after a trip with his mates and steadily comes to realize he's developed feelings for you

Pairing: Oakley x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warning/s: frat boy friends vibes; bit of angst; probably not a completely accurate referencing to the events of 'Unrelated' [let me know if I missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: prequel piece to 'just another memory' but can be read alone; Oakley is a SIMP in the making for Reader

There'd been a strange sinking feeling in Oakley's stomach since he and his mates hit the road back to Cambridge. It was the kind that he'd only ever felt when he knew he'd done something that could get his mother cross at him and she and his father would impose some form of punishment on him. Perhaps revoke his cell phone for a week so he couldn't join his friends on their regular scheduled shenanigans. Or chat up some stunner that he'd met the week prior.

But things were different now. He was no longer bound by their rules for the most part. He was free to do whatever he wished and this trip to Italy was the perfect showcase of that new dynamic. All he had to do was get his degree and get a job, and he would still have their support and financial aid so that he wouldn't have to stay at the dorms or even have to tough it out with a roommate that might not approve of the way he lived day in day out.

The only person keeping him in check now was himself, and as far as he was concerned, there was nothing he'd done in Italy that he wouldn't have done in Cambridge. He had a bloody good time there, even, getting to engage in not just one but two flings, and one of them with an older woman.

And yet, when he thought back on every touch, every kiss, that he'd shared with either of the women, that pit in his stomach would form again. As if the activities he'd engaged in during his vacation were somehow the "wrong thing" that could make someone responsible for him cross.

But why?

"You're awfully quiet back there, mate. Which one of your lucky ladies is taking up space in that randy little brain o' yours, I reckon?" Eric teased, lightly tapping the curly blond's head as he plopped down on the seat next to him, jostling him out of his dwelling over why there was a pit in his stomach to begin with.

"I've no idea what you're on about, mate, I'm not thinking of anyone," he tried to brush it off, brows furrowing together when he tried to remember that night in the pool and the knots in his stomach worsened. Like the memories he made in Italy were not something he could look back at with fondness.

If he dwelled on it for even a second longer than necessary, it almost felt as if he was looking back on those memories with a touch of shame.

"Ah come on, Oaks, you tellin' everyone 'ere that you're not thinking about that stunner of a blonde Elizabetta? Even I'm thinking 'bout her and it wasn't my tongue down 'er throat." Eric crowded his space, squishing him to the side of the van. "Or even that cougar Anna, my lord, man that one was fawning and doting after you!"

As if right on cue, his mobile rang and vibrated violently in his pocket. Another call. He didn't need to even glance at the tiny device to know who it was. She'd been calling since just a few minutes after they'd all said their goodbyes.

That was over 24 hours ago. And he was well on his way back to campus, the scenery already began to elicit that feeling of 'home'. Or at least of familiarity.

"Speak o' the devil! Why don't you pick it up, Oaks? Be a grand old time hearing her pining after you again." His friend flailed into his side, dramatically placing the back of his hand on his brow. "'Oh Oakley how I miss you terribly, why don't I come visit you on Cambridge and we can live out any professor fantasies you might have in that virile young college brain? I'll even get the glasses and the pencil skirt just for you."

"Sod off," he grunted, trying to chuckle away the mental image. Another thing that was bothering him: Those fantasies that he'd had before they left for Italy a little over a month ago…none of them appealed to him now. "If you want, you take her number and live out those filthy little daydreams of yours, mate."

All that he could manage to think of at the moment was the melancholic knowledge that when he got back to his apartment, there would be no one there. He wasn't coming home to anyone. That didn't used to bother him before, but for some reason sitting in this van with all his mates and having to hear them be completely taken up with his own conquests in this trip made him feel as if he should be guilty and shameful somehow of the way he acted. The way he treated both the women that he encountered and found himself entangled with.

This is ridiculous, you're not looking for a wife, you batty little git, he hissed at himself, trying to supress the urge to let out a deep exhale. That would set off everyone in the van. Besides, you don't even know anyone that's even remotely wife material.

"Hey hey hey look alive, lads," Marcus, the one at the wheel, started to call out. His tone was brimming with wanton intent. "We are steadily approaching the dorms, and you know what comes after."

"Sorority row!" the rest of the van cheered, proceeding to make botched barking sounds, effectively drowning out the relentless ringing of Oakley's phone.

But the mention of the dorms finally had him sitting up straighter, realization dawning on him that he was wrong. He actually already knew someone who was so much more than "wife material". Someone brilliant and diligent that had a part of him driven to make the steps to be someone better.

Someone that he called his best friend. Better than anyone in the van with him tonight.

You.

"Marcus, could you drop me off here?" he called out, his stomach flipping at the sight of your familiar silhouette jogging to the front door of your dormitory.

His friends' remarks faded into a dull buzzing in the background as he got off the van, making his way over to you and staying still by your side while you did your step-ups at the bottom step of the stairs. It only took a few moments before you shifted your gaze at him, removing your earphones and hooking the cord behind your head before giving him a beaming grin.

"Goldie Long Legs!" you squealed, the exhilaration from your workout giving you an adorably flushed look, the slightest tinge of pink on your cheeks. "I didn't know you were coming back tonight."

"I was gonna give you a call when I woke up tomorrow, but then I saw you." He did his best not to pay too much attention to the strange somersaults his stomach was making the longer he stared at you. "Coffee?" He tried to keep his tone casual, despite the way his voice cracked on the last syllable, as if he was a nervous lad asking a girl out for the first time.

You answered a giggle that had his heart doing the most bizarre acrobatics in his chest. Why was he reacting to you like this? Was it simply the lack of a woman's presence the last two days as they made their way back, making this reaction more primal than anything else? Was it your exercise outfit and the way the fabric clung to the curves that were rarely ever out for him to take notice of before?

Was it something else? Something that was simply…uniquely…you?

"Coffee? At this hour?" you laughed off his offer. "All the coffee shops are closed by now, and you know how you get with caffeine, Goldie. If you have a sip, you won't know a peaceful night's sleep tonight."

"Oi! Lookin' good there, Y/L/N!" Eric hollered from the van. Oakley's skin bristled seeing how his friend leered over your figure. "Shame you didn't join us, Italy woulda been an even prettier sight with you around."

"Rather not add to the trail of broken hearts you lot left behind," you shot back flawlessly, sticking your tongue out at the boys in the van. "I know you lads well enough to know you didn't behave yourselves."

"Oaks over there's the worst offender of us all!" Eric pouted, pointing at the curly haired blond. "Two flings. At the same time. Shoulda seen him, Y/L/N, he was at the top of his game."

The playful smile on your face faltered for a fraction of a second before you recomposed yourself. That infinitesimal moment was more than enough for the pit in his stomach to make its presence felt once again. Now Oakley knew what it was, beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Shame. And the worry that knowing what he'd done back there would somehow taint your perception of him. When your gaze darted to him once again, he had to fight back the words that wanted to stumble clumsily out of his mouth. They meant nothing to me.

In the moment they were fascinating, and truthfully while he was in said moment, he thought about how things would go moving forward. If he would try to pursue anything with either of them, but ultimately the immediate answer was 'No'. Back then he didn't know quite yet the reason behind his mind's outright refusal, but now he did.

This dalliance was a mistake. I have someone so much better back at home and I've been a fool not to see it.

"Quite the juggling act, Goldie," you remarked, your tone more hushed than before. It felt as if you were putting distance between the two of you despite not having moved an inch. Like there was a wall he couldn't quite scale now just to get to you.

"One o' them even gave him a nice lil picture o' her. A breathtaking blonde called Elizabetta. Ohh man not even the finest girls in sorority row can compare."

Shut up, you little twat, he internally seethed, wanting nothing more than to throw whatever he could get his hands on at Eric's head so that he could just. Stop. Talking.

And then his mobile started ringing again. And your smile disappeared, your face looking as if it was struggling to decide how to reconfigure itself, your neck twitching with every shrill note of his ringtone. "That's probably that breathtaking blonde now," you said in an eerily chipper tone. "I won't keep you any longer, I'm sure you're tired from the trip. And you'd like to spend the night speaking with your new lady friend."

"Oh that's not even the blonde! That's the other one!" Dammit Eric, stop talking. "Older lady. Head over heels for him, she couldn't keep her hands off him every time they were in the room together. Told you, Y/L/N. Top of his game."

"Ohh so a lady lady friend. All worldly and whatnot…" Even your body language was throwing him off now, way too casual to fit how he himself felt in this moment. The feeling of wanting more than anything to explain. "Well then, I really don't want to keep you. I know better than to keep my elders waiting, you should, too."

The boys in the van started cheering and clapping over your remark, jokingly chanting "One of us! One of us!" as you gave them a curtsy, making a motion as if you were wearing a skirt rather than your black and hot pink leggings.

It was only when you were halfway up the steps to your dorm building that he managed to find his voice again. "Breakfast tomorrow? My treat?"

You only answered with another giggle. "Did you hit your head or something back in Italy? You don't do breakfast, Oakley. At most you do half a protein bar at first period. From my purse. I'll see you at lunch. I mean…if you're not too busy with your new lady friends or whatever."

He couldn't come up with an intelligible enough response, instead watching you walk into your building and shutting the door, wiping away at your face with your towel. All that he could do was walk back into the van, telling Marcus in a daze, "Drop me off at my place. I'm not in the mood for stop overs at sorority row."

Oakley wasn't in the mood for any more games. Any more women. Not tonight.

The next morning the first thing he did was call up his service provider to see about getting a number blocked, and then he grabbed his wallet, rummaging around in his desk drawer for a handful of photos to place in front of Elizabetta's. A group photo with his mates from their first class project in freshman year, a photo with his family. A photo of a stolen moment with you where you two were wielding chopsticks at each other in a playful "stand off" for a potsticker, and your graduation photo.

On a whim, he placed the potsticker one in the front, a fond smile stretching across his face as he traced his finger over your face in the picture. And then his alarm clock began to ring and the sound quickly filled his apartment, springing him into action to find the nearest clean outfit he had lying around.

He nearly broke a sweat with how fast he ran to your dorm building, hoping he'd catch you before you started walking toward wherever you'd decided to grab breakfast for this morning. Right as he was across the street from the front doors, you walked out, one earphone plugged in and the other dangling from the cord, undoubtedly mouthing along to whichever song was topping the chart this week.

"Y/N!" He internally winced at the hoarseness in his voice. He wasn't even running for that long; how was it that he was already heaving for air?

Your head snapped up to his direction at the sound of your name, shock registering on your face when your eyes met his. Followed by confusion, your brows adorably knitting together as you watched him jogging towards you as he crossed the street.

"What brings you to my neck of the woods at this hour, Goldie?" you greeted him with a smile, hooking the cord of your earphones behind your neck. "Have a breakfast date with one of the girls from my building? You must have it bad for this one if you're willing to wake up so early for--"

"Y/N, I'm…I'm not here for someone from your building," he cut you off, wiping his hands on his shorts before standing up straight, trying to get his heart to stop beating so bloody fast. "I asked you to breakfast last night, remember? My treat?"

His response had you visibly taken aback. "Oh…" The word came out more like a squeak, making you clear your throat. "I uhh…I thought you just offered that as a nicety. For catching up. We could've done lunch…or you know, coffee now that it's a reasonable hour."

"We could do that, too," he said in a rush, fighting against the strange instinctual urge to reach for your hand as the worry that you might wave him off and start walking away crossed his mind. "After breakfast?"

You shuffled your feet in place, slightly swaying back and forth. It was a motion he knew all too well from you, the one that told him you were trying to think something through, trying to find the reason and the rationality in something before deciding what to say or do next. Had it been any other day, any other circumstance, and had he not been grappling with finding his own sense of rationality in why there was suddenly this shift on how he was acting and reacting around you, he would have swayed with you.

After a few moments your mouth stretched into a half-smile, shrugging before tilting your head in the direction of a nearby cafe and bakery. "Alright then. Let's go."

Oakley couldn't help how his face broke out into a grin, a touch too eagerly falling into step with you, still fighting the urge to reach for your hand. To lace his fingers with yours.

"So tell me all about Italy," you started, looking up at him and squinting your eyes as the morning sun hit your features. "Start with the food because I want to know if handmade pasta--"

"We can talk about Italy later," he breathed out, finally losing the struggle to not reach for you and settling on lightly resting his hand just above the small of your back. "Tell me about what you've been up to the last six weeks."

He'd try and process what it meant later. That all he wanted to do was know how you'd spent your time apart. That he wanted to hear your stories rather than speak about his own. That much as it was an extraordinary experience to roam Italy with his mates, the only thing he could think of now was how it could have been even more beautiful if he perhaps…experienced it with you.

"Oh…" Your voice got smaller again, as if you were struggling yourself to find words. "Well truthfully they were quite boring. My sister visited campus to drag me to the shopping plaza to overhaul my wardrobe. She's quite literally holding my jumpers hostage and replaced them all with…well, things like these." You awkwardly motioned at the dress you were wearing, a frilly sage number with a bow. "I look ridiculous."

"You look beautiful," he blurted out, immediately biting the inside of his cheek when you snapped your head up to give him a questioning look. A new feeling flooded him. Something almost akin to…fear? His heart was still pounding and thrashing in his chest, his breathing thready like the air was too thin.

Like he was afraid that you'd look at him and see right through him. Right into his soul. His deepest, most secret thoughts. Thoughts he hadn't even dared to properly articulate with himself.

And if you saw them, if you saw him, you would walk away without a second thought. Those words that he was so used to wielding without completely meaning it when he was around other girls, he'd uttered to you with the weight of every unspoken thought he'd had of you since last night.

With every ounce of sincerity and honesty that felt so foreign for him to possess.

"Oh please, Goldie, you don't have to butter me up," you laughed off his compliment, waving it away with your hand like it was a little housefly flitting away by your face. "You don't have to lay it on--"

"I'm not." The words were flying out of him faster than his brain could filter them. "You're beautiful, Y/N. And it's not because your sister overhauled your wardrobe or you changed your hair. It's you." His heart caught in his throat seeing your eyes widen, the questions and the confusion in them mirroring his own. What was wrong with him today? "All of you."

You pursed your lips, already looking back in the opposite direction like you were second guessing agreeing to sharing a meal with him. Or maybe even sharing any form of time with him. He already wanted to hit himself for not keeping his mouth shut, he probably just flushed your entire friendship down the toilet all because he started acting the same way he did when he was in the first grade talking to the prettiest girl in class.

"Hmmm," you sounded through pursed lips, taking a deep breath before your features morphed into that all too composed smile that you gave him and his mates last night. "And here I thought all I had going for me was my winning personailty."

"That's just a part of it," he shot back, failing to fight the urge to touch his hand to your arm as you reached the cafe, helping you keep steady as you walked up the elevated platform leading to the door. Right as you walked past him when he opened the door for you, he caught a wisp of your perfume. The same one you'd worn every day since the day he met you, the scent of apples and mandarin blanketing him with a warmth that took him aback.

Memories of his weeks in Italy now bombarded him. How he would relish the apples that he had, breathing in the scent before taking a bite. How he brought an apple when he and the rest of the group visited a citrus grove, and how the combined smells reminded him of home.

Only his family home didn't smell like that at all. It smelled of tea plants and bergamot.

"Oakley?" Your voice broke through his memories. "You alright over there?"

He took in the sight of you, a single eyebrow raised looking like you were amused by his stupefied state, the corner of your mouth upturned in a little smirk. "Right as rain," he choked out, finding it hard to breathe properly with his heart beating so fast it might as well be The Flash on a treadmill. "Just not used to being up this early, is all."

You only wagged your finger at him, tsk'ing in response when he stepped up next to you at the counter. "Shouldn't have shocked your system with changing your routine like that, Goldie. You have to ease yourself into it, take baby steps. Otherwise you'll crash midday and end up taking a twenty-minute nap that quickly turns into four hours, miss a lecture, and then you'll have to rely on my notes. Again."

"Ah, you should know me better by now, Y/N. I'll need to rely on your notes even if I'm wide awake, I can never pay attention to those old windbags."

His words had you rolling your eyes to the ceiling, a devious smile playing at your lips. He couldn't take his eyes off you, every waking brain cell screaming at him to take your face in his hands and kiss you.

"And here I thought your time with your new worldly lady friend would have you respecting our elders a bit more," you quipped, laughing at him when all he could do in response was audibly choke on the air. "Maybe we can hack that debauched brain of yours. Pretend those old windbags are your older lady friend instead, or pretend one of the pretty girls in our lecture room is your breathtaking blonde Italian beauty. Maybe then you'll pay a bit more attention in class."

I won't, his mind protested. Why would I look anywhere else when you're right next to me?

"I really don't think so," he said softly, letting out a chuckle when all you did was shake your head at him, proceeding to order a bacon cheese waffle sandwich and the first of a handful of coffees you'd be drinking throughout the day. All the while Oakley watched you, a fond smile stretching across his face as he lost himself in the memory of the citrus grove again. The scent he was chasing the entire way to Italy and back.

Your scent.

Home

A/N: Sometime last year I made a lil note in my idea notebook to make a prequel piece to 'just another memory' and now here we are…and it's gonna be a 2-parter with a potential alternate ending because the lil gremlin horn dogs in my writer brain want a scenario where she chooses…well, y'know what, you'll know who it is soon enough 😈😈

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist

[many-but-one]

Hey, you, person scrolling on tumblr.

It does get better.

I know you hear it all the time, you’re probably sick of hearing it. I know I was when I was going through it. Like yeah, great, it’ll get better in ten years! Doesn’t help me right now, though, when I’m going through mental hell and just wish that death would take my suffering away.

I get it, I’ve been there.

Whether you are actively suicidal and practicing writing your note in your phone’s notes app, whether you’ve attempted and want to attempt again, whether you’re passively suicidal in the “I’m gonna start smoking because I don’t care if it kills me” way or the “I don’t drive with a seatbelt just in case I get in a car wreck and might have my suffering finally ended” way or in the “I don’t look both ways before crossing the street because maybe someone will be speeding and not paying attention and kill me” kind of way.

I’ve been in all of those states before. Many times. I’m writing this because I’m feeling ideation and it’s why I’m writing it. The reason it’s ideation and not action and why I’m not acting is because I know it will pass. I just gotta ride the wave.

It does get better. It doesn’t happen overnight. It can take hard work. Which sucks, because I know you’re tired. You’re bone tired. Soul-deep tired. I know. Hard work sounds like the last thing you wanna do right now, when you wish that every time you slept that you wouldn’t wake up again.

But it’s not the kind of hard work that you have to finish at a certain time. There’s no due-date for wellness. You have plenty of time to get it done, all you have to do is keep showing up.

For some, it’s talk therapy. For some it’s therapy and medication. For some it’s gonna take processing some deep seeded traumas and it’s gonna suck. But it is worth it. It really is.

Currently you are looking through life with sunglasses on. Everything is so, so dark. Even on sunny days when sunglasses can be helpful, you’re still muting the world around you. The colors aren’t vibrant, everything is a dull shade. You step inside and it’s dark. At nighttime, it’s too dark to even see. Eventually you gotta work on taking those sunglasses off. It might seem futile to step outside and take your sunglasses off because you know that you’re just going to put them right back on. But every day you go out and take those sunglasses off even for a minute at a time and really take in everything you’ve been missing, you’ll start leaving them off more. You’ll get to see more things. Do more things. Things you would have totally missed with them on. And eventually you’ll realize that if you had killed yourself, you wouldn’t get to see and do all of these beautiful things you’ve been missing.

I know that analogy makes depression seem like a choice, but hear me out. Sometimes you will need help taking those sunglasses off. Sometimes you will need to take medicine that makes taking the sunglasses off easier. Sometimes you’ll need to talk to your therapist about this dark world you’re seeing, and you know you need to take these glasses off but they are so heavy. Eventually you will gain the skills and the strength can take them off one minute at a time and experience the bright world you’re missing. Sometimes you need that mobility aid that can help you get outside in the first place, that pain medicine that helps you get out of bed to even make it to the door. It can take time to get those things too, and it’s so devastating when it takes so long to get the help you need, but you can’t give up. There is so much beautiful world out there and you deserve to see it.

Rainy days will happen in the midst of the bright and sunny ones, and that’s okay too. Rain is necessary, it keeps the world bright. It makes flowers grow, it nourishes the earth around you. But rainstorms don’t last forever, and neither will this bout of sadness amongst your sunny days. (Talking to you, folks who have been doing well and feel yourself getting bad again. Ride the wave, things will settle down again soon.)

Ten years ago I was sixteen. My first suicide attempt I can recall was when I was eleven. In the last ten years alone I’ve had many, many more. Some were meant to end my life, others were related to my specific circumstances and were meant to cause me harm but not kill me.

I am glad I am here today, at 26. These last six years alone have been some of the most difficult parts of my mental health journey outside of my young childhood. I had to work through some serious trauma. I had to learn how to set boundaries. I had to divorce my wife whom I had thought was good to me but was actually abusing me and I didn’t know it because I didn’t know what a healthy relationship was supposed to be. I had to finish college. I had to come to terms with a physical disability. I had to learn how to be comfortable asking for accommodations. I had to learn to stop fighting my brain and start working with it. I had to learn how to love myself. Every version of myself, even the versions of myself that are small and scared and hurt and want me to die. I had to work on my self esteem. I had to come to terms with cutting out toxic family for good. I had to go to work while I’m doing all of this. I had to find a reason for living every day, even if the reason is so simple as “my cats would wonder where I went if I died.” Even if the reason was “I don’t want my internet friends to wonder why I’m not posting anymore.” And as I started to gain larger followings of people who were rooting for me, it became “I can’t let them down, I have to show them that healing is possible.”

Something I’ve said to a lot of suicidal people who feel bad about telling me that they are only alive because they don’t want to make me sad is this: “if that is what is keeping you alive right now, then good. Whatever keeps you on this earth is important. Because every day that you are here is one more day that you will get closer to being able to live not just for other people, but for yourself.” And I am here to tell you that it is possible to be in a place where you are living because you want to. Where you are living because you are excited for what the future will bring. Where you are joyfully curious to what you can accomplish. Where you will look back on your toughest years and say “shit, if I can get through THAT then I can get through ANYTHING.”

I am 26 years old and I still get suicidal ideation. Usually because of trauma related stuff. Triggers, anniversaries, etc. I am not suicidal every day anymore. I don’t wish for death every time I go to sleep. I love myself. I look at myself in the mirror and even when I’m sleepy headed and bleary eyed with dry ass skin and messed up teeth, I am like “DAMN LOOK AT YOU SUPERSTAR” because gods damn, if I can live through all I’ve lived through already, then I sure as hell can take on just about anything the world can throw at me.

I am in a healthy relationship now. It’s not something I thought was possible. (Seriously, the first time I saw my girlfriend look at me with love in her eyes I almost cried because I’ve never seen a partner look at me that way.) I’m learning how to be a good partner too, and how to set boundaries. I’m still learning how to be a human being. I’m still learning how to speak up when I get mistreated by people at work or out in public. I still get anxiety about leaving the house on occasion.

I’m learning that romantic love and platonic love can be equally deep and rewarding. I love my best friend with all my heart and soul. I love my girlfriend just as much. I’m learning I can have healthy amounts of intimacy with both my friend and my girlfriend, and it doesn’t have to end in a triggered spiral or desperately taking a shower trying to scratch the feeling of skin on skin contact off of me.

I’m learning that grounding methods and distractions are some of the most important tools in my healing toolbox. I’ve learned that sadness and anxiety and emotional pain doesn’t last forever. This post right now is me distracting myself and riding the wave through this triggered feeling I’m working through. I’ve learned that another important tool in my toolbox is hope. Hope that I will get better, hope that my life will not always be one nightmare after another, hope that things will settle down and I’ll be able to breathe again. And maybe have a fancy umbrella drink to celebrate, too. (Inside joke😉)

It will get better. Sometimes all it takes is a scenery change. Other times it takes literally tearing your life apart at the seams and gently stitching it back up into something you want to live. If you are a teenager reading this, you would be shocked at how much better things get when you move out of your parents’ house. If you feel stuck in an abusive situation and there’s no way out, I’m here to remind you that there is always a way out, and there will be people who will help you do so.

And remember, you’re not alone. No matter how unique your situation may be, someone else has either gone through it or is going through it now too. Find a community who is centered on support and healing. Changing your mindset and perspective is important.

You can get better. It takes time, patience, grit, and determination. And you’ve already got all that. I know, because you are here reading this post.

It will be okay. You will be okay. Deep breath.

You got this.

[witchinatree]

i'm having so much fun with the new tmagp characters (and i will miss them dearly until april 11th) (side note: patreon members get access on my sisters birthday which is pretty cool) and i don't want to compare them to the tma characters because they are unique and different in MANY ways, i just also notice some parallels

gwen is very similar to jon, she has had a somewhat skeptic attitude but has now clearly been exposed to the horrors (bonzo..) and she's also climbing the corporate ladder if you will. she runs the place, she's grumpy, and i think she's closer to becoming an avatar than any of the others (even sam) (see my other post about it if youd like) (idk how to link it on mobile sorry)

alice and tim are kinda obvious, both comedic with younger brothers and are very susceptible to romantic feelings (sasha/sam). there was a lot more going on with tim and we haven't seen much of that side of alice, so i'm really excited to learn about her backstory and/or traumas. less excited about what that might to do her but yk.. yk..

sam/sasha is the most interesting one to me. sam is curious like sasha was. sasha wanted to know which made her archivist potential in everyone's eyes. sam also wants to know, he'd make a great archivist. except he's not cautious, he's like sasha if she had never worked in the artifact storage. i think sasha's strength was what she had already experienced and what she knew, but she didn't know enough and ultimately that got her killed. sam is going to keep learning until he does know enough, but he doesn't have that prior knowledge to stop him from going too far. very interesting characters from both of them

celia and martin i guess? celia's different since she's not exactly from tmagp

lena and elias because creepy murder boss

and finally colin and gertrude which is kind of insane of me to say but hear me out. gertrude cut out the eyes of book covers and magazines and everything in her home. she was incredibly paranoid she just was also a boss ass bitch about it. i think younger gertrude must've been a lot like colin, but she figured it out quicker and realized what she needed to do to survive. she asked the right questions and took the right precautions. she had the archive full of knowledge. colin doesn't have the archive, he's messing with the wrong thing and he's taking every precaution and hurting himself and those around him (sam's phone specifically comes to mind). i think gertrude was like colin but she had the right resources to get through it

idk all of these are very interesting and it makes me worry a bit, but ofc every character is unique and has aspects to them that change their stories. they're probably still gonna die though, we know jonny sims loves killing characters ☹️

[antimony-medusa]

hi saw your daddy kink post discussing the phenomenon of giving grown characters surrogate parental relationships, and I understand where you’re coming from, but i really feel like it’s just a matter of the circles you run in, and the assumptions that you might make because of that. you mention how platonic reads of these dynamics are more uncommon than kinky reads, which i just don’t think is the case, and I think that arguing that people don’t even realize that they’re writing a kink is a little bit bizarre, and sort of assumes that you know more abt them than they do by projecting your own experiences onto them.

it isn’t inherently sexual to crave protection or a parental relationship that you may have missed out on, and it is certainly not universal. in my own family, my “grandpa” isnt my biological grandfather (nor do I really consider him to be my grandfather), but he’s my mother’s surrogate father and has been since she was in her twenties. an adult. he sees her as a daughter. she sees him as a father. there’s absolutely nothing kinky about it. and anybody who automatically assumes that must have their mind deep, deep in the gutter and/or the stranger side of the Internet. really, i find it a bit of a strange argument to randomly post in the first place—as if it’s a problem that so many people enjoy non romantic and non sexual relationships, and that these people must, in fact, have a daddy kink that they are unaware of.

that said, i do absolutely agree that fans bringing any part of that into phil’s chat is weird and they should Not do that, and that infantilizing characters is also very weird, and personally i dont even see him as being father figure to anybody on that island except his eggs, wilbur, and MAYBE an argument could be made for tubbo (which other cc’s on the island have joked about), but to each their own and all that.

sorry this is so long. TLDR, i get where ur coming from in terms of “warning , some people might read your stuff differently than you want here” but really not everything is a kink and paternal dynamics can easily happen in regards to adult characters, particularly young adults, without there being any inappropriate connotations. i know nothing i said will change your mind, obviously it’s set, but ykno diff perspectives and all that. hope ur doing well

Thank you for the ask! I see you were on mobile, I believe. :D I am also going to push the character limit with this response, I fear.

I agree that it isn't inhernetly sexual to go after a parental relationship that you missed out on, and there are many such cases. I'll even go so far as to say that it's not inherently kinky to go after a parental relationship that you missed out on, because there is such a thing as non-sexual kink, and heaven knows that MCYT writing is full of non-sexual kink. Lots and lots of stuff that is platonic that is kinking on fear, or being drugged, or kidnapping, or hypnosis, or familial relationships, etc— there's lots of people who aren't doing that. There are tons of people out in the real world (and in fiction), who are simply just expanding their family as an adult, and that's awesome. When I was in college there was this older couple who kind of adopted me and invited me over for thursday dinner, and they were awesome. There was nothing untoward going on there.

But look. I am an emduo fan who likes to see my guys be murdery, and because of that, I've ended up reading a bunch of Dark SBI. I've ocassionally gone "this cannot be what everyone is doing" and I've read stuff tagged as "family fluff" that I find recommended. I am aware of where the genre is going, particularly with the rise of "dadbur" and "dadnoblade" interpretations.

And look, you have just got to trust me on this one. People are writing stuff that in any other fandom I would be recommending they put kink tags on the work so that people who liked that trope could find it and people who didn't like it would avoid it, but that comment in DSMP would just lead to people getting doxxed, so I just grit my teeth and go "i guess that's baked into Dark SBI or Tooth Rotting Fluff now, I sure hope that doesn't hit anybody's triggers".

Like I PROMISE you. The first draft of this response included excerpts of fics that I've read and I was like "can YOU pick the ship fic from the /p fics here"? But I have a horror of ever leading to someone getting cancelled on twitter, so nothing that could possibly be identifiable of these writers. But like—

Some of the ways that Tommy gets treated in the narrative are almost indistinguishable from a bodice-ripper romance. Some of the tropes being used— within DSMP we've all clasped hands and agreed to interpret it being platonic, but in any other fandom, you are going to start getting comments that you might not want to get. The tag is FULL of stuff that is DD/LB in everything but name. Maybe my mind is in the gutter here, but if you move out of this fandom, you are going to move into circles where a lot of people's minds are in the gutter, and you are going to get a very different response from your comments!

And I was talking about daddy kink here specifically, because I see that one come up a lot and it's gotten egregious lately, but this also applies to dehumanization, and fearplay, and predator/prey, and "instincts" (in every other fandom that's gonna get people in a mashup of A/B/O, Hypnosis, and sometimes Agere responding to it), and kidnapping/drugging, AND the way a bunch of "piglin instincts" stuff is just a BDSM au now where the Brute (dom) needs to be callmed down by their Runt (sub). The SBI tag is super kinky right now. And I don't have a problem with that idealogically, write your truth, but a) please don't bring that up in front of the streamers, b) if you move to another fandom you have got to be prepared that not everyone is doing their kink platonically.

Like I'm assuming that people don't know what tropes they're playing into, they're just building them from first principles, because the other alternative is that they are deliberately and knowingly writing kink and posting it in the & relationship tag with insufficient trigger tags, and I prefer to believe that people don't know.

I'm glad we agree about people bringing that into Phi's chat, or Pol's, or Luzu, or any of the other streamers that people have decided is So Old. A lot of people aren't comfortable even being assigned dad, as we saw with Felps, so bringing it even further is just— uh oh, no.

I do not have a problem with people liking non-romantic and non-sexual relationships. I find it a bit odd that much of the fandom can't concieve of a non-romantic and non-sexual relationship without making it familial and specifically lately father-son— don't you have close friends?— but I am fully in support of gen writing. I primarily write gen! I'm an avid commentor on gen fics!

But some of the tropes at play in the fandom are kinky, there is no way to avoid that. The fact that they are set in a familial relationship doesn't negate that. Some of the ways that the DSMP characters get treated would be distinctly non-familial if you ever brought it out of that context. And I am just warning people, if you bring it out of that context, be prepared for the response you get.

You cannot take DSMP tropes and apply them one-to-one in other fandoms, with other streamers swapped in, and expect them to be read the same way. Like i'm sorry, but that's just true. If you are posting the same sort of stuff that for Cellbit & Phil that you would post for Tommy & Phil, people will assume that you have a daddy kink, because usually when a relationship between a adults that are actually similar in age is refered to with paternal language it's a kink thing. That is how the broader internet works. (And anon, if I had a daddy kink, would I be complaining about the fact that I can open any SBI fic and have about a 40% chance of hitting it and I'm seeing signs of this appearing in QSMP? I assure you I'm not "projecting [my] own experiences onto them" here.)

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| Now I Know ||

Frank Castle x female reader

Tags/warnings: kidnapping/rescue verrry angry Frank, violence, blood, trust, LOVE.

A/n: been listening to Work Song by Hozier a lot.

His muscles scream from the work, the kind of work you might call good and honest. The kind where at the end of the day his body is tired and drenched in sweat rather than tense with rage and spattered with blood.

He still does that work. You're watching as he washes his hands in the kitchen sink. If it's blood or dirt from the earth that is swirling down the drain you don't notice, only that those are the hands that could elicit a cry of mercy from death, or cries of pleasure from your lips. The gentle and sure squeeze of a trigger, whichever kind it is, he's in control. The movement and pressure of his fingers during either task is frighteningly similar, and yet there's something deep within you that welcomes and craves that similarity. The comfort you find in the tender way he has with you overrides all else, he may have the darkest of sins but he's all of his sweetness with you.

He's drying his hands on the dishtowel, concern and confusion plain on his face as he sees you looking through rather than at him.

"What's wrong?" He's asking you, and your focus snaps back to the depths of those dark eyes. "Nothing." you smile, but you're not all there and he knows it.

"You'll tell me if it's somethin', right?"

"Yeah baby," you nod, "I will."

He reaches for your face, fingers trailing softly along your jaw and you lean into him, relaxing as he cups your chin in his hand, bending down so he can kiss you slow and easy. He finds you there, he'll always find you.

On your lunch break your phone pings. Some days Frank would text you a sweet little thing, and today was one of them.

Love you princess xx

You're headed to the same place for the third day in a row. They must have been watching you. It was probably a stupid thing for you to do but you really liked the coffee they served there. You're looking down at your phone typing out a reply to Frank's text when it happens.

You don't even have time to fight them off, the last thing you remember is seeing your cup falling to the ground, coffee spilling into the cracks in the pavement before you are bundled into a vehicle, the strong chemical smell of the rag covering your mouth and nose.

.

Frank meets Curtis for a drink at lunch most weeks, it's something they've kept up since Billy. A mini therapy session for them both.

"You alright man? Been checking that damn phone almost non stop since you got here."

It wasn't unusual for you to not reply to him, you had been pretty busy at work recently. "Yeah, yeah. Sorry man."

Curtis isn't dumb, he knows when Frank's got something eating away at him. "C'mon, what is it? Woman trouble?"

Frank scrubs his hand across his face with a heavy sigh. "I dunno. Feels like she maybe still doesn't feel safe with me. Been trying everything, talkin' to her, tellin' her she can ask me anythin' about the past and all of that…"

"But it ain't about the past is it? It's what you're doin' out there now, Frank. It's a big ask to deal with that. But she's strong y'know? Just give her some time and if you're gonna keep on doing what you're doing, give her the truth if she wants it."

Pick you up from work later? Really miss you today.

Frank is nodding, but he's staring off into space. He sends another text.

.

Your head feels like a lump of lead as you wake up, slumped forward in a chair with your ankles tied to the legs and your wrists bound behind your back, the plastic of the zip ties cutting into your skin. Your eyelids feel like boulders are sitting on them as you chance a look at your surroundings. The upper floor of an unfinished building, sheets of polythene hanging from the walls and ceiling and scattered over the floor. You hear echoing sounds from the open doorway, local accents. Fear starts to replace the drowsiness as you become aware of a tripod with a mobile phone set up in front of you. The scuff of dust and gravel behind you makes your head whip round as a thick set bearded man with a scar under his eye walks towards you, turning over his shoulder to yell through the doorway as he sees you're conscious.

"Bitch is awake."

"Then it's time to play, boys." comes another voice, all sleazy and drawling. The owner of it steps into view and there's a twinge of recognition. You briefly met some of Frank's work colleagues from the construction company a while back when you brought him lunch as a surprise.

This was the blonde one, ruddy with a slight squint. Another man appears, he looks similar to the guy with the scar, but younger and nervous.

Your mouth is dry as you go to speak, rasping, the words sounding weaker than you wanted them to. "What's going on? Is this some sort of a joke?"

The dark scarred man laughs. "Sure honey, tying up pretty little broads like you is a whole lot of fun for us. But nah, it ain't no joke."

The blonde one draws closer, leaning down, his grimy calloused fingers running over your cheek. You flinch away as his stale stinking breath washes over your face.

"Your dumbass boyfriend's been making us look bad, takin' all of the damn work and getting paid fuckin' bonuses for it, making us look lazy. So we're gonna give him a lil incentive to quit."

"Ever think that's because you are lazy?' you snark back at him.

He gives you a lecherous grin then spits in your face. You spit right back at him but all it earns you is a swift backhand that splits your lower lip open.

The beardy scarred asshole cackles again. "Fuck she's a feisty lil thing. Kinda see why he's into it."

You pull at the ties holding you as blondie draws his fingers down your neck and yanks at the front of your shirt, sending buttons scattering across the concrete floor as he leers down at your tits.

"Yeah…" he muses, his eyes rove over you making you feel itchy and unclean. He flicks his fingers towards the phone, shouting at the young guy. "Hit record..."

You were scared but you also couldn't believe these fucking dunces seemed to have the grand plan of WhatsApping videos of them messing with you to Frank? They really had no idea who they were dealing with.

You strain and tug at the zip ties pointlessly, you know there's no way you'll be able to break through them but it makes you feel better. As you move you realise your phone isn't in your pocket. You just hoped the idiots didn't have enough sense to turn off the gps. Frank would find out you weren't at work at the end of the day, that you hadn't replied to any of his messages, he'd know something was up, that you were in trouble, right? He'd know something was wrong. He had to.

You try to calm your breathing as you see the blonde asshole slip a handgun from the back of his pants, it wouldn't be wise to talk back now.

The young one gave the thumbs up from behind the mobile and blondie started his spiel.

"Alright Pete, figured you might not be able to understand the situation if we just talked man to man… so just to make it completely clear, you're gonna watch this lil show we're making for you."

He walks over to you, grabbing the top of your head and turning you to face the camera. "See, if you don't quit the job and give us the fucking money you've stolen from us, I'll make your pretty little whore all mine. I'll tell you where to leave the cash, but first I'm gonna give you a taste of what I'm gonna do if you don't pony up… just so you know I ain't playin'"

Frank would find you, he had to find you.

.

His heart dropped into his guts the moment he learned you hadn't returned to your office after lunch break. The guy at reception thought you might have gone home sick or something and not had the chance to tell anyone.

He called you multiple times with no answer, no texts, no nothing. He was about to call Curtis when his phone buzzed with a video attachment from an unknown number.

Confusion rapidly gave way to a white hot rage that consumed his entire being as he saw Corey from work on the screen, and then you. As soon as he realised what the fuck was happening he was in the truck with the pedal grinding hard against the metal. He recognised where you were being held, one of the previous client's sites they had worked on downtown about a month ago.

.

The muzzle of the gun presses in and bruises against your temple. You close your eyes trying not to shake. All you can hear is Beardy's dumb laugh and the slow grating sound of a zipper right by your face. Bile rises in your throat.

Your heart soars as you hear your salvation bellowing from the stairwell.

"You want your money asshole?!"

"Frank! In here!" You shout and scream, desperate to see these fucking animals get what they deserve.

As soon as he hears your voice he's charging like a bull, the fire of hell itself blazing in his eyes as he grabs the gun and forces the blonde creep's hand backwards breaking his wrist with a sick crunch as if it was nothing. The asshole falls to the ground along with a faceful of Frank's boot as Beardy and the younger one pull out knives and start advancing in futility, because you know how this ends.

You see the beauty in the punishing raw anger that manifests itself through Frank's body, a slick, efficient killing machine. A fist, an elbow, a knee. He connects the dots so easily on his way to get to you, eyes scanning you frantically as he tugs the knife through the ties on the chair.

You're safe.

"I'm here baby, I'm here. You okay? You hurt?" His hands are light on your limbs, his thumb gently smoothing over the red marks on your wrists as he checks you over.

"I- I'm okay…" He's here. You're safe, you remind yourself.

"Any of those motherfuckers touch you?!" He growls, and you're only able to nod, too stunned to form words as you watch as Frank goes to haul up the sleazy blonde by the neck, his huge hand almost closing all the way around and crushing his windpipe.

"This one?" He asks, his voice is sharp gravel, you've never heard his tone like this before and it vibrates through you.

"Y-yes… he-"

You don't get to say any more as Frank slams him against the wall making him gag and choke, before punching his already bruised face into a pulp, breaking his nose and teeth within seconds. He wheezes pathetically as Frank's knee smashes repeatedly into his groin, and you find yourself unable to wrench your eyes away as he slides slowly down the wall when Frank is done, leaving a red smear on the plastic sheeting, a puddle of blood pooling around him as he reaches the floor and stills.

Frank doesn't miss the other one trying to crawl his way out of the room while he's distracted, swiftly picking up the tripod stand and launching toward him swinging it like a bat. You wince as it knocks the guy out cold with a splatter of blood painting the wall and he crumples to the floor.

Through the veil of your tears you see him, really see him. Frank came for you, he found you, he protected you. You're safe.

He holds you to his side all the way till you both get to his truck where he calls the cops and anonymously tipping them off to the location of three known abusers.

Back home you have to try so hard to satisfy him that except for a couple of bruises and a burst lip, you're fine. They never got to do what they were planning to. The anger and fear in you melts away with your tears as they flow, they're tears of shock and relief but he's still sorry. Sorry for letting this happen as if it was his fault, sorry for not knowing something was wrong much sooner, sorry that he can't keep you safe.

"I am safe, Frank." you assure, as you strip off your clothes and lead him to the bathroom, encouraging him to do the same. "I'm safe with you." His face is still pained and you know you need to show him, knew it from the moment you heard him coming to your rescue.

Under the hot spray of the shower you wash away all the filth that had tainted you. You run your hands over his body but he doesn't dare touch you, he doesn't see it yet, even as your lips brush over his bloodied knuckles he doesn't understand. He's still angry and afraid for you, and you feel it in his body as you press yourself flush against him, wrap your arm around his neck, your other hand going to his jaw to guide his mouth to yours. You have to show him that you need to feel him, on you, inside you. He needs to know the love you have for him isn't fragile. You know now that it isn't, it won't be beaten by this. Never.

He pulls away gently, he still believes you're scared of him and the things he's done. The things he does. "Baby, you don't have to, after what hap-"

But you're firm, pulling him back to you, pushing him up against the tiles and he's stunned. You're getting frustrated because he still doesn't get it.

"Frank, you're mine." He lets you guide his hands around your waist where you want them. "And I'm yours," you say pointedly, "now show me I'm yours, make me feel it."

This time when you reach for him you feel the difference. His fingers tighten against the softness of your skin like he can never let go. When you kiss him he kisses you back, he's still holding himself, letting you dictate the pace but a gentle nip with your teeth to his lower lip communicates your need more clearly. His thigh slots between yours, and you feel him getting hard against the front of your hip as you mould your body to his. His hands drop down to the curve of your ass as you rock yourself on his muscular thigh, your fingers twining in the longer hair at the top of his head as you stand up on tiptoe to whisper in his ear over the rush of the water…

Take me to bed.

He nods and you dry quickly and carelessly, desperate to be with him and feel his skin on your own. Your lips are still wet and slide so slick against Frank's as you move him towards the bed, climbing onto his lap as the backs of his knees hit the edge of it and he sits.

"You wanna stop, you just tell m-"

He's cut off as you push him back, a soft huff of breath leaving him as you're fierce in your demand for him to meet your energy. He's too good, being too sweet for what you need right now but he's catching up. Those hands, the ones that so surely dealt bloody justice for you, slide up your spine, one of them grasping the back of your neck as he surges up and kisses his way over your bare chest while you're grinding against him.

"Please, Frank," you whine into his mouth, tug on his lip with your teeth, and he thrusts upwards gripping your hip and meeting your desperate movements.

"Hey, I gotcha baby, I've got you…" he murmurs before carefully rolling you underneath him.

Your kisses are frantic, littering the line of his strong stubbled jaw but he soon captures your lips with his own, slowing you down, keeping that fire burning but calming you as he deepens the kiss. You open, and he permeates your senses, knowing exactly what you need, grounding you with his tenderness.

Limbs entangle until you're moving as one, body arching when his soft lips brush the skin of your neck, your ear, and you feel more than hear his words.

I'll always find you.

.

Tags:

@divinearchangel @saintmurd0ck @castlesnchurches @mindidjarin @hellskitchenswhore @pedrito-friskito @sweetieswiftie @shedaresthedevil @freshabogados

@father4giveme @stress--relief @e-dubbc11 @whistle1whistle @tea-and-wine @emiemiemiii @imherefordeanandbones @munsonownsmyass @marvelswh0re

[bonefall]

i'm ngl depicting thunder's prosthetic as a burden is pretty uncomfortable even if it is something some amputees experience because like. there's a huge stigma around prosthetics already you know? it's like having a parent forcibly strap a child into a wheelchair when they don't need it and having a horrible experience with it and that being your only character in a wheelchair. some full-time wheelchair users do resent their wheelchairs but when that's the only time you're bringing it up at all it feels like you're playing into our society's perception of wheelchairs and mobility aids in general as useless and best and divine punishment at worst. idk do let me know if i'm wording this wrong because i really do love better bones! it's just that this detail is... strange.

I mean, I'm open to feedback if that's not something I should do-- but I do actually have other characters in prosthetics and mobility aids! A lot of them! Thunderstar's actually the only one who ends up rejecting his own, because I also wanted to depict that it's bad to force a device onto someone who does not want one.

Especially in circumstances like Thunder Storm's, where that sort of device would be actively unhelpful for his lifestyle. It might help in open field environments like moorland, but then I got more feedback and realized that it would just make a lot of unwanted noise in a forest (since cats have carpal whiskers to help them figure out where to place their paws). Then I figured it was a good way to show how BB!Clear Sky doesn't actually listen to his son's needs and acts differently when he's not "grateful" enough for his gift.

But he's far and away from the only one with a mobility aid or prosthetic!

I haven't figured out Frog entirely yet, but he's going to be the first cat with a "wheelchair" type device, to set up a long line of cats through the generations improving on it (Probably not much more than a reinforced canvas or durable leather, as this was the age of very early flax processing)

Wildfur's the next in the big advancements, even making the Great Journey in his own and getting a side story based around Littlecloud and Cinderpelt collaborating over this

The device is then improved upon by Jessy for Briarlight, giving her a level of independence and confidence that she needs to finally cut her mom out until she learns how to behave

Deadfoot has a brace for his front paw because the joint is loose (it was based on a friend's carpel tunnel bracelet) which is affectionately referred to as The Bonker; his name is also now an Honor Title (Old name: Hoprunner) for inventing a battle move by distracting with his good paw, and then SLAMMING his other limb down hard on his opponent. It's called "deadfooting."

I think mobility devices are super important, usually massively improve quality of life, and I just enjoy designing them, so the choice to portray Thunder Storm's as negative was a very deliberate one that I did in response to what I thought was a desire in representation. Even the fact it's a hind-leg prosthetic was thought out, since those have a much higher satisfaction rate in humans than hand prosthetics, but in a cat would probably be the opposite.

Still, I'm not missing a limb, so now with all of that context presented, do you still think the same thing? Should I just add even more limb prosthetics to make the ratio of satisfied prosthetic users vs Thunder Storm even steeper?

Sunlit Frost is actually going to have a bite on his good paw go septic (the other side has permanent damage from the fire). I could have that paw get amputated and have Thunderstar "return the favor" for how Sunlit Frost created the prosthetic he rejected by helping him build his own. A pawsthetic, if you will

OR would it be better to just remove the subplot of Thunder Storm grappling with/rejecting a prosthetic that is unfitting for him entirely, and have all prosthetics be 100% treated as positive in the narrative?