#i have a habit of Not Getting To The Point

[cerbe-r-us]

I think it's interesting that all the examples provided so far on how to keep guys from falling down alt-right pipeline is having other men help them unlearn their bad habits/behaviours together. Patriarchy enforces strict cishet-centric dynamics that isolates men from having any platonic relationships after all, which encourages them to see every man as competition and every woman as a prize, making any critique of their behavior afterwards come off as an attack on their person. So getting a guy to value the constructive advice of left-wing men over the self-soothing "you did nothing wrong" rhetoric of right-wing men relies on them accepting that they may have some Issues™️ to work on.

I do think there's also a major issue with men hearing talk about the patriarchy as a system and treating it as a personal attack due to having some of the habits/behaviour being critiqued, making it harder to point out even basic issues.

I've seen a lot of left-leaning women attempt to help the men in their life work on some of their issues with the love and compassion I've seen men beg for only to have said men getting sexual with them because they see any positive interaction from women as flirting and/or get aggressive upon realizing that the relationship is going to stay platonic, which in turn drives women away and leaves the guy in prime position to be taken down alt-right pipelines. And when you conflate extremist feminism views (ex: radfems/TERFS) with the straight up concept of feminism like a lot of right-wing conservatives do, then ofc everything a woman says sounds like an attack or "woke SJW madness" whose words have to be filtered through, like. A Master Chief AI voice to get men to engage with it meaningfully. This also leads to both sides ignoring other types of marginalization that might be impacting them and forming any kind of intersectionality or community. (ex: autistic men may be treated poorly for being too emotional or childish, disabled men may be treated poorly for not being able to work anymore, black men may be treated like a threat more often than their white peers regardless of behavior, etc.)

Personally, a good rule of thumb to district between constructive vs destructive criticism is to see if a person assigns all the blame/responsibility on one group for inherently existing. For example, if someone says that all men are violent predators who shouldn't exist, they're ignoring the actual issue (boys are less likely to be taught proper sexual conduct and boundaries) and ignoring the chance to constructively address it (teach boys proper sexual conduct and boundaries) by placing the blame on someone's sex/gender instead.

I couldn't have said it better myself.

[astrow1zar6]

Venus in the houses Ovservation 8-12

Venus in the 8th house: these people are so magnetic it’s insane. They have a dark beauty to them that’s truly captivating. They remind me of Tim Burton characters. But being so magnetic causes a lot of people to become obsessed with them. They attract a lot of stalkers and creepy people. They tend to get sexualized constantly( people make such gross comments to them it’s shocking). I’ve seen these people get catcalled and lustful stares and comments about their body even if they aren’t wearing anything revealing. Even I’ve seen family members make inappropriate comments to these natives, things like “if you weren’t my daughter I’d….” You get the picture 🤮 (8th house ruling taboo attraction ) one of my close friends had to deal with that in her family. They may have been shamed for wearing revealing clothing of too much makeup because it’s seen as “overly sexy” or “hoochie”. People could’ve thought they were sluts even if they never had sex too it’s sad. They can get a lot of hate from people for no reason as well they may be used to people (mostly women) giving them dirty looks or ignoring them/purposely being mean to them. Their presence has such an intense affect on the people around them. Their relationships are also intense as well they attract a lot of people with a dangerous/edgy type vibe to them (junkies, drug dealers, people with a record ect). They have a provocative vibe to them so they can attract some very questionable partners at time. I’ve seen too that they are into gory kinda art or disturbing art pieces/ photography. They are also very proud of their bodies & usually embrace their sexuality. I’ve seen a lot get into nude modeling or just take a lot of pictures of their bodies. They’re more comfortable being nude than most (also this can be a big sugar baby placement as well like Venus in the 2nd).

Venus in 9th house: have such a unique glow to them. They have smiles that can light up a room and their laugh reminds me of wind chimes. I haven’t met a lot of people with this placement but the ones I met I notice they are so intelligent and well spoken. So many people are drawn to them just to hear what they have to talk about. It makes them amazing teachers/gurus. They just always seem like they know what they’re talking about so many describe them as being wide beyond their years (they usually have pretty high IQs as well, Marylin Monroe had this placement) They tend to find spouses while traveling or they can travel a lot with their partner. Their partner might’ve come from a very diverse cultural background or ethnicity. On the negative side these people can be very overly indulgent and sometimes believe that they are always right and their words are law. They can have a big god complex if negatively aspected.

Venus in the 10th house: give superstar vibes. These people put a lot of effort into their career and public image. Most big celebrities/ big politicians I notice have this placement. This can be a big trendsetter placement as well, you’ll notice that many people will admire you and try to copy you a lot! Whether it be you mannerisms, fashion, art style ect. For example Billie Eilish has this placement and everyone went crazy over her baggy clothes style. You have more of an opportunity to make your mark in the world more than the rest of the Venus signs. If afflicted however you can become too obsessed with recognition and status to the point where you abandon important things and people in your life to attain your goals, this can cause someone who has sorta tunnel vision when negatively aspected. It’s important to not get so wrapped up in others image of you so you don’t burn yourself out trying to please everyone (they can be extremely sensitive to criticism & be harsh on themselves to perform perfectly). You can also have a habit of putting your work/career before relationships. You may not settle down till later in life.

Venus in the 11th house: I notice similar to Venus in Aqua that they are really big on friends before lovers typa thing. They don’t really jump into relationships fast without becoming their friend first.( which can be a little annoying to more fast paced types) at first you can make your partner feel friend zoned but the ones who are patient enough to let you open up usually win your heart. They usually put a big emphasis on friends in general and could have a lot of them. If you date someone with this placement it may feel like you’re dating their friends too😭 they’re a very big part of their life. People with this placement usually have many support systems which can help them through life and show them to new opportunities(especially business opportunities). On the flip side I’ve seen these people become too detached with their relationships and treat them like friends rather than lovers which can cause their partner to feel neglected. They tend to find lovey dovey expressions a little awkward (if immature) which can cause them to become aloof when things get a little too close, they may start playing hot and cold. Might need a longer time to mature romantically than most. I’ve seen a lot of influencer and people with popular social media blogs have this placement. They’re very tech savvy & usually own the latest technology.

Venus in 12th house: these people I feel mostly live in their fantasy worlds in terms of love and romance. They are hopeless romantics at heart and have this beautiful vision of how they want their love to look and feel like. However it’s usually difficult for them to find this perfect love in such an imperfect world so they usually end up romanticizing the most mentally ill mfs into like a Prince Charming image lmao. This is why they usually attract a lot of unstable/ emotionally unavailable partners. I’ve seen these people remain celibate for long periods of time as well until they find that perfect love. Most of the time though unfortunately love feels a lot better in their imagination. I’ve read somewhere before that they go through such an ordeal in love because in a past life they chose lovers over loving themselves so a big lesson in this lifetime is to love yourself before you let anyone in. I also read they could’ve lost their soulmate in another life which caused this extreme longing for love in this life. These people usually find love through spiritual practices such as religion, meditation, crystal work, tarot ect.

[amirasainz]

Write something about Max and Kelly corrupting innocent younger reader. They treat her like a porcelain doll and make sure she is always in their sight. They are very possessive and obsessed

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!

-xoxo babygirl 💕

No Part 2!

Keeping her away

"Where are you going, YN?" Max’s voice was smooth yet carried a dark edge that made YN pause, one hand still on the door.

She looked over her shoulder, offering a soft smile. "Oh, I was just going to meet Jess for coffee. I thought I mentioned it."

Kelly appeared from the other side of the room, her gaze warm but intent and possessive. "Did you check in with us first? You know we just like to know where you are, sweetheart." She reached out, tucking a stray strand of YN's hair behind her ear. Kelly had the habit of always touching the younger girl. It was her way of making sure YN was safe. "You know it’s not safe out there. Besides… we kind of like having you around."

YN’s cheeks flushed at the attention, feeling a bit like a child being fussed over by parents—though Max and Kelly were only a few years older than her. Still, they always treated her with such adoration, like she was someone who needed looking after. Like she couldn't exist without the other two.

"It’s just coffee," she replied, laughing softly, "I’ll be back in an hour or two."

Max exchanged a long look with Kelly. "Come on, YN, it’s not that we don’t trust you," he said, stepping closer, his gaze softening, but carrying a possesive sparkle in them. "We just worry, you know? We don’t want you getting hurt."

"How about this?" Kelly chimed in, wrapping a strong arm around YN’s waist. "Let us come with you. We can sit nearby, give you space, but if you need anything, we’ll be right there."

YN’s expression wavered. She didn’t want to seem ungrateful. They did so much for her, always checking in, always knowing exactly what she needed before she even had to ask.

"Alright," she agreed, smiling. "You two can come, but only if you promise not to embarrass me!"

Max chuckled, guiding her toward the door with a firm hand on her lower back, nearly touching her ass. "Promise. We’ll just be… there in case you need us."

The three of them arrived at the café, with Jess already waiting. When she saw Max and Kelly trailing YN, her eyebrows raised. "Hey, YN," Jess said, giving her a questioning look. "I didn’t know we’d have company."

YN shrugged, taking a seat. "They just wanted to make sure I was safe." She grinned, not noticing how Jess’s face flickered with confusion.

While Jess and YN caught up, Max and Kelly sat at a nearby table, never taking their eyes off their girl. At one point, Max leaned toward Kelly, murmuring softly, "See how happy she looks with us here. We’re doing the right thing, keeping an eye on her."

Kelly nodded, eyes bright with a crazy twinkle as she watched YN laugh. "She needs us, Max. We’re the only ones who really understand her. Nobody else could love her the way we do. Nobody could ever protect her the way we can. We are the only ones she can love, forever."

They lingered at the café, Max occasionally glancing at Jess whenever she made YN laugh too hard, his jaw tightening just a little too hard for it to be causal. Kelly, sensing his mood, placed a calming hand on his arm, trying to keep her anger at bay when she looked at her precious love and the person she called a "friend".

"Remember," she whispered, "YN will come back with us. She always does."

■■□■■□■■□■■□■■□■■□■■□■■□■■□■■

Later that evening, back at Max and Kelly’s home, YN spotted a new photo on the wall—one of her from the café, laughing at something Jess had said.

"Another one?" she laughed, turning to them. "You two are so obsessed with pictures."

Max smiled warmly, stepping closer to her. "You’re just so beautiful, YN. We love being able to see you around us, even when you’re not there."

Kelly leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching YN with a fond gaze. "Do you like it? We took it because it just… captured you perfectly. Don’t you think?"

YN’s cheeks heated. She felt flattered, even a bit shy. "I guess it’s… kind of sweet. I’m lucky to have you two."

"No, YN," Kelly said, stepping forward and taking her hand, kissing her cheek softly, before whisperingin her ear. "We’re the lucky ones. You’re like our little angel. You let us take care of you, and that means everything to us." Kelly's declaration of love made her shiver.

YN felt her heart skip. She’d never had anyone look out for her so closely. Sometimes her friends hinted it was… maybe a bit much, but what did they know? Max and Kelly loved her, cared for her in ways she couldn’t imagine anyone else doing. And they wanted her safe.

"So… you don’t mind?" she asked, looking up at Max. "That I need you both so much?"

Max’s gaze softened. "YN, we wouldn’t have it any other way." He put a gentle hand on her cheek. "You’re exactly where you’re meant to be."

Kelly nodded, brushing a thumb over YN’s knuckles. "Exactly. With us."

■■□■■□■■□■■□■■□■■□■■□■■□■■□■■

Days passed, and each time YN tried to spend time on her own or with friends, Max and Kelly always found a reason to join or have her stay with them instead. They’d perfected the art of reassuring her with gentle smiles and soft words, constantly reminding her of how precious she was to them and how they didn't want anything happening to her.

One evening, YN noticed Max quietly watching her from the doorway as she arranged flowers on the kitchen table. "Something on your mind?" she asked with a teasing grin.

He tilted his head, smiling. "Nothing in particular. Just… happy."

Kelly appeared by his side, nodding as she took YN’s hand, guiding her to sit between them on the couch. "We love having you here, YN. You feel that too, don’t you?"

"Of course," YN replied, her heart warming. "I mean… I don’t know what I’d do without you two."

"And you won’t ever have to," Kelly murmured softly, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead before bringing her in a hug. Over YN's shoulder, Kelly shared a dark look with Max, tightening her hold on YN. A silent form of communication between them. Nothing would ever touch their YN. Ever.

[myautisticpov]

Okay, I think it's time I talked about my Duracell Bunny/Sleepy Time scale for autistic people/people with ADHD...

So, what's the scale:

If you have autism and/or ADHD, every activity exists on a scale from Duracell Bunny to Sleepy Time (with Normal in the middle).

A Duracell Bunny activity is something that you do to an extent that most neurotypical people are exhausted just thinking about. For example, before the joints in my hands got all fucked up, I could consistently write a really high word count per day, and I would regularly see people call it impossible. And as the years have gone on, most of the people I know of who hit similar word counts have all been diagnosed as autistic and/or ADHD.

A Sleepy Time activity is one where just looking a neurotypical doing it a regular amount makes you exhausted. Where the amount of energy required to do the thing wipes you out for the rest of the day.

Different people have different Duracell Bunny and Sleepy Time activities and one thing that I've noticed a lot of autistic and ADHD people do about their Duracell Bunny activities is look at autistic/ADHD people for whom it is a Sleepy Time activity and say "well, I'm autistic/ADHD and I don't have any trouble with it, so clearly you're just making an excuse."

And this is extra annoying because ADHD/autistic Duracell Bunnies have more energy for the thing than neurotypicals, so they can end up in leadership positions and entrenching a really unhealthy environment for everyone. Including themselves - Duracell Bunnies are not always immune to burnout, so you can get a Duracell Bunny who is obviously engaging in dangerous and/or unhealthy coping mechanisms yelling at Sleepy Times who aren't because the Sleepy Times have had to firm about their boundaries from the beginning.

(In fact, sometimes people can end up in crisis because of burnout, and instead of learning anything, go right back to the level of effort that caused burnout and use their crisis as proof that they are actually worse off than the people who set boundaries and didn't end up in crisis, and that those people, therefore, just don't care enough...)

But yeah, TL;DR: Sometimes autistic/adhd people have more energy for certain activities than even neurotypicals, and these people can have a bad habit of pointing at autistic/adhd people with less energy for the activity and saying "well, if I can do it, that must mean every adhd/autistic person can" which leads to people refusing to provide accommodations, or shaming people who cannot show up in the same ways

[neovenatorgirlteeth]

I voted 'No' though it's really 'no to an extent'. There is a lot of factors to consider here, primarily around what exact species of dinosaur is being brought back:

Age plays a huge factor. It has been around 230Ma since the first dinosaur evolved and there has been hundreds, if not thousands, of dinosaur species at any given point during the vast majority of time since. Any species that has not existed in the past ten thousand years or so would 100% need to exist solely in captivity, and the older a species is the harder it would be to care for, especially considering Mesozoic vs Cenozoic animals. Not only would the climate and vegetation be more strange and unsuitable for a more ancient species, but the modern animals needed to model their care around become less similar as well. The care for a captive Phorusrhacos could be modeled around that of a seriema, for example, but we would have a much harder time trying to provide the proper enrichment for a Velociraptor, and harder still with an animal we know less about like Serendipaceratops. What do we feed it when we don't even know what the animal looks like? We only know it from a single arm bone! What do we do when it gets ill, or stressed?

The further we go back in time, the poorer the fossil record represents a time period due to preservation biases, meaning that perhaps we end up cloning a species we are entirely unfamiliar with and have not the slightest clue how to care for. For herbivores specifically, plants have changed so much over the course of dinosaurian evolution that you would not be able to feed them. A Jurassic herbivore such as Stegosaurus would not be able to eat grass but it would need ferns and shrubby conifers of which most would have no surviving ancestors of any similarity, so it would either starve, die of malnutrition, or be dependent on supplements which we would have to figure out properly before either of the first two happen.

Size is also important. Big animals need more resources, water, food, space, and some dinosaurs were the largest terrestrial animals ever by a long shot. The largest animal species in captivity is probably the whale shark, individuals of which can weigh up to 15-20 tonnes, though I doubt that any captive whale shark is a heavyweight record-holder. Some sauropods like Diplodocus or Apatosaurus are estimated to weigh in around this mark, though many are thought to weigh more, with adult Argentinosaurus estimated to average at anywhere between 65-80 tonnes. Add on the fact we know some of these to be herd animals and the previous point about herbivorous diet issues, feeding and housing and containing a giant herbivore seems a enormous task. For a carnivore, the largest dinosaurian carnivores could be elephantine in size, so feeding a 6 tonne Tyrannosaurus might be more also be too resource intensive.

Space is also important when thinking about how far an animal roams; some wide-ranging or migratory animals stay put when zoo keepers tend to their every need, but others don't. Birds of prey are commonly kept in captivity despite the large distances traveled by their some species in the wild, but you'll never see a captive albatross or tern (at least not a happy one). Is the same is true of extinct birds like Argentavis and Pelagornis which might have filled similar ecological niches? Perhaps!

Breeding is a whole other kettle of fish. Is cloning a new animal every time more feasible than trying to breed existing animals? How costly is the cloning technology? Can we get the necessary genetic diversity to not have effective inbreeding? Are the animal's breeding habits prohibitive to breeding in captivity? Is the animal negatively impacted by not being able to breed? Dios mio...

Some features are not genetic, however. They are learned. These behavioural traits can often be instrumental to an animal's survival, covering everything from hunting to ridding themselves of feather parasites through dust-bathing or preening. These traits cannot be recreated via cloning, and although there is much debate as to the extent and import of these learned behaviours as opposed to instinctual ones, it is undeniable something will be lost in the de-extinction process that cannot be recreated.

One thing doesn't really concern me as much as Hollywood would lead you to think it should, and that is visitor safety. While some animals are obviously dangerous, particularly larger ones, containing them becomes a priority to the facility. I don't see how they would be any more of a threat to guests than modern large animals in zoos, especially Tyrannosaurus which was physically unable to run. That is, unless, a particularly large dinosaur happens to be a cage-breaker, like elephants or parrots are today, though I doubt a Triceratops has the same escape artistry as a spider monkey.

Some people have commented on atmospheric composition, but I think there's too much uncertainty around data to pass comment. Most studies seems to suggest that % atmospheric oxygen was lower than modern during the Triassic and Jurassic and rose into the Cretaeous, with a possible Cretaceous high and fall around the KPg boundary, but the TJ low point could be as low as 16% or as much as 19% compared to our modern 21%.

To conclude, I think it is generally a bad idea to clone extinct dinosaurs, as they are surrounded by too much uncertainty to ensure their health and well-being in the modern day. The exception I would make is for de-extinction efforts of recently extinct species like the passenger pigeon or bush moa, which are an attempt to revitalise the ecology of the regions from which they are gone and into which they might be able to slot back into.

NB: In this post, I do not make a distinction between 'traditional' non-avian dinosaurs and avian dinosaurs, or birds. This is because I see this distinction as meaningless at best and obstructive to our understanding of these animals at worst. Thank you or fuck you respectively.

Like Jurassic Park, but anon offers a solution of the dinosaurs living in a natural preserve with no tourists.

–

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

[signanothername]

Could we have some soft/comfort headcannons about anyone of your choosing? It's election night and I really would like something soft for my brain to chew on instead of worry all night

Absolutely!

Imma give you a bunch of different little guys <333

———

Killer:

-his cats help him a lot with sleep problems, they make him calm enough to the point of actually closing his eyes whenever he’s with them (reminder that he usually sleeps with one eye open xhxbbx)

-after he’s saved, he gradually becomes better at eating, he still avoids food that reminds him of the past but becomes more accepting of other types of food, eventually getting his bone mass and weight back, going from lanky to chubby <3333

-he eventually accepts the state of his soul and instead of trying to fix it, he tries to understand it, understand himself, he becomes a lot more gentle with his own self

———

Color:

-he has albums upon albums full of pictures he took over the years, filled with places he visited, pictures of people he loves and moments he cherishes

-he’s very connected with so many people, and a lot of people find him to be a great confidant, he does a lot to help people where he can, he eventually gets the good he gave back with people taking care of him

-he’s in a queer platonic relationship with Delta and Epic

———

Nightmare:

-he has piles upon piles of gifts Dream gave him for their birthday over the years, he never got rid of any of them, these gifts are something he cherishes dearly

-he’s the one to introduce Killer to Ccino’s cafe, he actually did that with no ill intentions, and Nightmare himself is not really sure why he went out of his way to introduce Killer to the cafe

-he and Dream sometimes sit beside their mother in silence, just taking everything in, taking each other presence in, not talking or interacting, Nightmare feels peaceful during these moments, it’s the closest thing to the same feelings he had as a happy child

———

Dream:

-even though he has a fallout with Ink, he eventually remedies his relationship with them, they become best friends again

-whenever life gets too much, he goes to Swap’s house and stays with the swap bros, it helps immensely

-Dream never expects to receive anything on his birthday, that expectation is broken when he receives a gift from Nightmare, he never got another gift afterwards, it’s only that one gift, but it’s the entire world to him

———

Error:

-he thinks of Ink as his bestest friend in the world, he’d never admit that out loud tho dhdhhdhdh (they’re frenemies)

-he loves geno and Fresh dearly, they’re his proclaimed siblings, he’s more open about his love with them

-he actually takes commissions by making dolls for people who want them in exchange for chocolate as payment (his chocolate stock never runs out zgxggx)

———

Horror:

-He eventually finds a better relationship with food

-he succeeds at escaping from Nightmare and managing to keep his AU (and most importantly his brother) safe in the process

-he finds himself becoming best friends with Farm

———

Ink:

-his art is something others never see, but surprisingly, if you had the chance to see it, then you’d find it’s art the people they love most

-their fallout with Dream actually hurt him, so when he and Dream got back to being besties, they felt very happy about it

-he loves spending time with Color, Epic and Delta cause of their constant traveling habits, they’re very entertaining to be around

-while they spend most his time in the doodlesphere, the second place you’ll most likely see them in is with their parents in the omega timeline, he loves them with all his heart

———

These are the ones I can think of off the top of my head hdhdhdhdh hope they’re enough to rotate in your brain all day <333333

[miiyas]

op the way I'd do anything for a sakusa piece from u 🗣 preferably post-timeskip and maybe established relationship, BUT I'm open for whatever. you just write domesticity so well,,,,,, and sakusa is so habit driven,,, I need to see this pls 🙏

CHANGE IN PERSPECTIVE

you’re helping kiyoomi with his nightly hair routine

wc: 554, post-ts, a little ooc- i’m a little unsure of how to write for omi .., fluff, not proof read

kiyoomi has grown to likes his curls because you like them.

for the longest time, he’s only ever seen them as a a bit of a hassle, hair products mounting on the vanity of his bathroom as he consumes time just to make every curl perfect. he used to dream of how he would look like with hair that reflected the same style as his teammates — pin straight and easy to manage. but recently, he’s been thinking differently.

he’s been thinking differently because you like his curls. you like the way they bounce and shine, you like to watch him do his hair routine every night while you talk his ear off in your matching pajamas as he hums in response, mumbling an ‘oh yeah ?’ and occasional in puts of his own opinion and words.

on the special rare and intimate occasions where he doesn’t have the strength to do his hair after a long day of practice, sakusa melts into your touch as you carefully follow his tired voice and instructions as to how you should twist his hair in your fingers and how much product you should use.

he likes the way your fingers twirl around small strands of hair, making the coil form gently before moving on to a new section. he likes the way you hum out a soft tune, a song he recognizes as one that has been stuck in your head all week. and most importantly, kiyoomi doesn’t mind if you put the products in an unordered fashion on the vanity. the unfamiliar mindset of ‘i can fix it later’ has now grown onto him, cleaning up after your mess.

“hey, omi ?” your voice interrupts his thoughts, hands out of his silky hair. sakusa turns his body half way to see you inspecting a fully squeezed out bottle. “i think i’m gonna have to stop by the konbini tomorrow. this things out.” you hand the bottle over to your boyfriends bigger, more tougher ones. his shoulders slump as he struggles to push out any more product, brows furrowed in annoyance. with a sigh, kiyoomi rubs his tired eyes, revealing his verdict.

“we can cut the tube. where did you put the scissors ?”

you blink for a moment, a little surprised at his proposal. pointing out the bathroom door, you tell him that you’ll get one from the kitchen before taking quiet barefoot steps down the hall.

this is different.

kiyoomi doesn’t like getting his hands messy. he much rather purchase a tube roller to get the extra bits out rather than doing the extra work to dig at the corners of the dissected bottle.

but this is fun, he admits to himself. it’s fun to go through the extra work, to hear your laughter as you struggle to make a clean cut, to see that there’s no space on the small counter of the sink to put the two pieces of the bottle down along with the scissors.

it’s worth the mess, he thinks again. because at the end of the day, he can clean it up before he leaves for practice. he’ll wash the scissors real nice and put them back in the kitchen. he’ll throw out the empty hair product and give you an extra long kiss on the forehead in the morning.

[maskedbyghost]

Hi I'm sick and I hate it 😩

Could I please get Simon helping the reader with her cold thank you 🩷

aww, get better soon, anon! here's something to help you a bit :)

the moment simon hears you cough, his expression shifts, worry flashing in his eyes. he doesn’t say anything at first, but the concern is there. you’re curled up in a blanket on the couch, tissues scattered around you, eyes a little red from the constant sneezing.

he stands in the doorway, arms crossed, watching you intently. “you look like hell,” he mutters, but the usual teasing edge is gone.

you give him a weak smile, shrugging, “thanks, simon. feels worse than i look.”

simon steps forward, dropping a bottle of water on the table next to you. “drink this. helps with the throat.”

you glance at him. “i’m fine,” you say, voice sounding hoarse.

“you’re not fine,” simon responds firmly, sitting beside you. his hand presses gently against your forehead, checking for a fever, though his face softens when he finds it’s only a little warm. “stay still, yeah? i’ll get you some medicine.”

as he leaves to fetch the meds, you lean back against the couch, grateful for the attention but too tired to fight it. when he returns, he sits beside you again, his presence calming, like he’s taking care of everything.

“open up,” simon says, offering the pill with a cup of water. you comply, taking it without protest.

“thanks, babe,” you whisper, your eyelids drooping slightly.

“you don’t have to thank me,” he replies gruffly, but there’s a tenderness in his voice. “just rest, alright? i’ll make sure you don’t get too comfortable—don’t wanna make it a habit of me looking after you.” his lips twitch, but you catch the softness in his gaze before he looks away.

you lean into the warmth of his side, feeling safe, and as the minutes pass, you realize that you’re not so miserable. simon’s there, and it’s enough.

a moment of silence stretches between you, and then, as if something pulls him closer, simon leans down and presses his lips to your forehead.

you blink up at him, surprised, and weakly protest, “simon... you’re gonna get sick, too.”

he looks at you with a playful smirk, a hint of defiance in his voice. “no, i won’t. i’m built different.” he leans in closer, brushing his lips against your forehead once more. “and i’ll kiss my wife whenever i want.”

before you can say anything else, he stands up, grabbing the blanket around your shoulders and tucking it a bit tighter. his voice lowers to a teasing tone. “now rest up, yeah? i'm here with you, love.”

-

two days later, you hear him cough from the other room, the sound hoarse and rough. you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. when simon walks into the living room, sniffling and looking miserable, you raise an eyebrow.

“what happened to being built different?” you tease, watching him slump down onto the couch beside you.

he groans, rubbing his nose. “seems like i wasn’t as immune as i thought.” he gives you a pointed look. “i told you i’d kiss my wife whenever i want.”

you chuckle, handing him a tissue. “well, now you’ve got a cold, too.”

simon grumbles under his breath, but his lips twitch upward. “serves me right, i guess.” he leans his head against your shoulder. “guess you’ll have to look after me now, love.”

you grin, settling in beside him. “oh, don’t worry. i’ll take good care of you, simon. fair’s fair.”

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

@daydreamerwoah @spicyspicyliving @blackhawkfanatic

[prettyboykatsuki]

:O

pls elaborate more on sweet/affectionate bf shidou if you have more thoughts to spare 🫣

very excitable methinks. always happy to see you. you argue very rarely. super touchy and likes mall dates. LOVES to dress you up in clothes you would never wear yourself and loves to put you accsessories. likes backhugs and hanging all over you in public. usually spins or jumps with you in his arms (kind of. lifts you off the ground slightly without fail and makes u remember how Strong he is)

just lovey to the point of absurdity when he's dating. gives you lots of very wet smacking cheek kisses in public and laughs when you push him off or get embarassed ( does not stop... rip). will insist you sit in his lap even if its insanely inconvienent. has a habit of manhandling you to like. get you into his arms as fast as possible at any given time. cheek nuzzlers.

all the affection is also in like. messing with you. pulling your cheeks, squishing your face, tugging at your hair or pining your arms. not much of a biter i dont think (SHOCKINGLY) because he prefers WET kisses. man who licks your face for no good reason very often rip. or like. sucks on you like a freaky ass octopus. you've gotten a hickey on your face before. so annoying KJSDKF but he's well meaning.

all of this is also true for the freak nasty disgusting sex you have i should mention. its important to me. he doesn't believe in anything except skin to skin and he's even worse during that.

just like. all over you. he can't get enough of you and would latch himself to you if he could. very shameless

[reidology13]

we could make it better (breaking every habit)

Spencer Reid x fem ex-famous!reader

Summary: After Spencer overcomes his addiction, he seeks out the company and forgiveness of an old flame. cw: talk of addiction, a little sad? mostly fluffy though a/n: technically a part 2 of my fic based off making the bed by olivia rodrigo, but it can definitely be read as a oneshot. maybe they are a bit unhealthy, but they're cute and that's all that matters. also this was so incredibly delayed cause my phone drowned so I'm posting this from my dad's computer

Part 1

They say time heals all wounds, and standing at the door of his past mistake, Spencer hoped it had healed hers the way it had his. It had taken him too long to find her, for his pride to break down enough to ask Garcia to search for her. A few years ago it would have been all too easy, a few years ago she was on the cover of every magazine. Now she was the public's favourite conspiracy theory, the biggest where did she go? post made on some website full of self important nobodies. 

Where did she go? A small house in a small town, a few hours from D.C, just close enough that Spencer had gotten in his car without a second thought the moment he had her address. Maybe it was a slight invasion of privacy, but Spencer had seen much more of her than the house she lived in.

As he lifted his fist to knock, doubt crept in for the first time since the beginning of his endeavour. Was he right to apologise, to show up at the doorstep of the person he hurt worse than anyone else in his life, and say sorry? Sorry. ‘Sorry’ was a puny word that could never hope to mean anything compared to what he had done, how he had used her. But it would have to do, because he had not come all that way to turn back at the flashing neon sign that said ‘CLOSURE’.

Knock, knock, knock. Was three knocks not enough? Knock. God four was too many and the last one had been so separate from the others it was clearly an afterthought that she would think was weird before she even knew it was him on the other side of-

“Spencer?” The door opened, just enough for her face to be visible through the small opening. She was so much more beautiful than he remembered, although he really didn’t remember much from back then. 

“I’m sorry.” Well that was one way to get to the point. He smacked himself internally, scolding himself for being so stupid and inconsiderate, not even saying hello or asking her how she was doing.

“Do you wanna come in? You look like you need to sit down.” She pulled the door open, stepping back to let him in, and Spencer froze. She was allowing him into her home, her space, he who had squeezed her dry, used her up and tossed her aside when he didn’t need her anymore.

Unsure what else to do, Spencer found himself sitting on her couch, the awkward tension between them palpable as he sat silently in regret of every decision he had made in the last week.

“So,” She prompted, gesturing vaguely in his direction, “How are you?”

“Good, yeah, better. You?” He looked around the room, trying to find something that would tell him anything about her life, about her. She was a stranger, really, a stranger that used to be someone he knew. He wanted to know who she was then, on that day, in her house sitting across from him.

“I’m good too. You look better.” He knew what she meant – he didn’t look high out of his mind. The far wall of the room was covered in framed pictures of her and what he assumed were her family and friends. Some were from her childhood, some were taken in front of the very house he was sitting in. 

What surprised Spencer were the photos, though few and far between, where he made an appearance. The Fourth of July party, a bright, sunny photo full of smiling faces. The poor quality of the picture did nothing to disguise the bags under his eyes, nor the dead look in hers. Her birthday, a photo of her blowing out the candles on her cake, blurred from his shaky grip on the camera.

“I don’t remember that one.” He pointed to a picture of the two of them, a dark photo that he nearly hadn’t recognised as himself. The ability to not remember had been his favourite thing back then, now the haze left him with a pit in his stomach.

“Makes sense, you were… you were bad. It was taken right near the end.” 

“I am sorry, really.” Neither of them spoke after that, the silence a warm blanket rather than a thick smog. The apology wrapped around them in a warm embrace, they did not choke on it.

She moved first, after what felt like the most peaceful eternity, slipping her hand around his, holding it in the space between them. He looked down at their joined hands, his gaze slowly drifting up until it landed on the soft smile spread across her face.

“I missed you.” She squeezed his hand gently, although it felt like she squeezed his heart instead, “I missed you from the moment I met you. It’s nice to get you back.”

“I missed you too.” He didn’t know how to explain the way it had taken him a month to get sober enough that reality hit and he realised what he’d lost. At least, he didn’t know how to explain it without having to actually say something about his addiction. He’d always been good at avoiding the topic, skirting around it with suggestions and subtle confirmations. The word ‘addiction’ made him feel weak, like he’d been defeated. He’d talked about his problem once, in a room full of people who had been through the same thing, and even then he hadn’t been able to say it. 

“You’re so strong, Spencer. You’ve come so far.” It was like she could read his mind, see every fear that haunted him and soothe it accordingly.

“So are you, I mean, you got out of everything.” His eyes dropped to his lap in shame of everything that he hadn’t noticed, all of the obvious signs of just how not okay she had been. All that she must have been going through, that he had been too far from reality to know existed, even when it was staring him in the face.

“You say that like you didn’t.” It was a simple sentiment, but maybe that was what hit him like a freight train. It wasn’t some mantra he’d heard hundreds of times, or a complicated conversation with his friends where they tried to talk to him without saying anything that actually mattered.

He got out of it.

“You’re perfect, you know that right?” The way he looked at her in that moment could only be described as reverential, she was the brightest star in a sky that he had never truly seen before.

“No I’m not.” The way she said it like a definite fact made Spencer’s heart start to crack, “Do you know why I have those pictures up?”

Spencer shook his head, “Tell me,” he said the words under his breath, as if they were surrounded by people in the empty room, “I’m not going to find you any less perfect.”

“Hope. I could never get the thought out of my head that you would come back.” She shook her head, gaze locked on the ground like she couldn’t bear to look at him as she spoke. “It was stupid, and then you actually did, and that’s stupid all over again.”

“You’re even more perfect than I thought.” Spencer laughed, tears pricking in the corners of his eyes, happy and sad and something he couldn’t put a name to. She was still holding his hand, he realised, and he used that information to interlace their fingers, placing their joined hands in his spare palm.

“I’m stupid and lucky, that’s what I am.” She snorted, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“No, not stupid.” Spencer drew circles with his thumb on her palm as he spoke, “Lucky, maybe.” 

“We’re gonna have to talk about this, us, you know that.”

“Eventually, yes. Not right now.”

“Not right now.” She confirmed, nodding slowly. They were both there, and that would have to be enough, at least for the moment.

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Poly!plastics x gamer!reader

Oh No, Your Girlfriends

|| poly!plastics x gamer!nonbinary!reader

|| Warnings; swearing, the plastics are upset with reader, Regina argues with reader, short drabble

|| Summary; when reader spends the weekend playing video games, the plastics show up to their house.

Requests open!

Started; November 5th

Finished; November 5th

~~~

Games were basically your life. You didn't like leaving your room for much, obviously you were forced to for school. And occasionally your girlfriends would drag you out. But more often than not, if people couldn't find you the first place anyone would check would be your room. You could always be found playing some type of game. You didn't really replay games too often, normally when you beat all the levels you would leave it be after that. Though there were your few comfort games you couldn't stop playing. Such as Minecraft, Sims and Call Of Duty. Your holy trinity of games.

It was the weekend, well into Sunday evening and you'd yet to leave your room. Your girlfriends had been blowing up your phone but with your headset on you hardly noticed. You were playing Minecraft, because you wanted a more easy flowing game. Plus, you really wanted to keep adding onto your one world. Trying to see how many builds you could possibly get on it. It was starting to get pretty full. At the moment, you were building a really massive library. Filled with stained glass windows and other intricate designs when the door to your room flew open. Completely startling you to the point of screaming.

You took your headset off, chest heaving as you tried to collect yourself. It was just your girls. Oh no, your girlfriends. Who you had completely neglected all week. Regina looked furious, Gretchen nervous and Karen just happy to see you. Karen bounced over and settled herself in your lap, sitting with you on your gaming chair as she gave you a kiss. You kissed back, though you couldn't help feeling nervous. Especially with Regina's eyes on you.

"Oooo!! Minecraft!" Karen bounced a bit in excitement, making your breath hitch as she watched your screen. "Can I play?" She asked, you sighed but nodded and handed her the controller. Her smile brightened and she went over to her section of the world; continuing off of whatever pink creation she was making the last time she played. With Karen happily distracted, you looked to Regina. Who was tapping her nails against her arms in impatience.

"Y/N.." She started, you already knew where this was headed. You'd ignored them all weekend, having been utterly sucked into your game.

"I know, I know-" You murmured, resting a hand to Karen's hip almost subconsciously. Giving it soft rubs on the skin just under her shirt, trying to settle your own nerves with the repetitive motion.

"Do you? Because this is the second weekend in a row now where you've pulled this shit." Regina huffed, you grimaced at that. She was right. You seriously had a bad habit of losing yourself to the world when you played your games.

"I'll make it up to all of you. Promise." You replied quickly, trying to pour as much emotion out as you could. So she could know that you meant it.

Gretchen silently looked at Regina, too nervous to say anything herself about it. When Regina took charge over something, especially while pissed off, it was usually best to leave her be. Not try to step over her in any way.

Regina rolled her eyes at that and walked over to you, hands gripping the arm rest as her eyes stared down into yours. You felt small under her gaze. "You have a lot of fucking begging to do."

You nodded and she smirked; tonight would certainly be fun.

[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

~{ So I was listening to “They’re only human” Death note the musical and this come out of the brain so here you gremlins go! }~

🌌🌙The Solar🌙🌌

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

If someone asked danny what he thought his life in the future would look like he would have said something like “Of course I will be an astronaut!” Or something to that effect

But what he did not expect was for him to have a protective and strong ass husband [Who is phantom and now the Ghost king and isn’t that something] with a little toddler who is 2 ( Dani who will be called dawn in this ) and a little protective toddler who is 4 (Dan who is called dusk) who he loves more than anything

And gain a ghost family who adores him (but for the price of another) who put up with his husband and adore him as well as spoil his Sun and Moon rotten

Now let’s see how this become as it has shall we?

====================================

Danny was having a bad day, first he almost miss class again [due to a mix of being to exhausted to get up on his on from fighting ghosts all night and with jazz being busy with college hunting so she couldn’t wake him up and his parents don’t even know what time he wakes up at for school]

Second Dash wouldn’t leave him alone and it was becoming hard to keep himself..well not really himself but recently he’s been feeling this that for a better word are not his to feel like when a ghost hit a bit to hard to feels rage and protectiveness wash over him anyway back to this.

Third Sam and Tucker were both out for separate reasons for Sam her parents had some kind of rich people thing to do and dragged her with them and tucker with his family were going to visit some relatives so yeah Danny had no one to hang out with.

Third apparently they had a test in English that nobody told Danny about so he knows he is going to fail that and some other things but it would get to long if we bought all that up but you get the point

So when Danny gets back home and all he wants to do is go to his room change into phantom and hug/chill himself out who is anyone to deny him [Like with the feeling feels that weren’t his, yeah he got the habit after a very bad day where his parents shot him in the back of the leg and it hurt bad so he hugged himself and apparently it was the right thing to do because he started to feel better! Not physically no it still hurt like a motherfucker but emotionally yes so he started to do that when ever he felt he needed comfort]

So Danny goes to his bedroom [not noticing the tall orange figure following him up] and closes the door [it was left ajar just enough for someone to look in] and changes into phantom but he hears the door open the door and he turns to see his dad looking at him

And the next thing he knows is a red hot pain coming from his side and blacks out

=====================================

It has been a week a long and painful week since his parents found out

After Jack [NEVER dad never again] he brought him down to the lab and tied him to a table and did…unspeakable things to him…have been doing this to him for a week

After two days Danny heard two more wails and he recognized the voices it was dan and Dani! [his children] and they were hurting them, Danny tired to get their attention to him to get them away from them but the damage was done and Dani and Dan went into their cores due to the damage but thank the ancients the cores were basically a undamageable and none of their weapons work on them

So that turns all their attention on him and how that would be their downfall [and the whole dimensions with them]

On day five is when Danny’s human “half” gives out due to no food or water and with the torture Maddie and Jack have inflicted on him it wasn’t really a surprise but what was when phantom and Danny unfazed and phantom was pissed they hurt Danny [his husband] they hurt Dani and Dan [his children] they weren’t getting of easy

So well they were fighting the now fully ghost Danny gets out from his restraints and grabs Dani and dans cores and pushes them inside him to heal them by essentially force feeding their cores clean ecto

Than phantom grabs him and pulls him fast to the portal and the go through and as they do they destroy the portal [not knowing that in doing that they let out all the built-up ecto and that essentially bombs the dimension taking everything with it]

And now that brings Danny here after healing and when the children cores got enough ecto that they could come out [as well as speed running a very loving relationship that is still going very strong]

And now Danny is very happy with his life now or well after-life

=====================================

~{ Now onto the DCU part! }~

When Damian got into a fight with father he expected to be benched as Robin for a few days or a week what he was not expecting was for father to assigned him to go and watch a warehouse that is known for not having been used for anything for longer than Damien himself has been alive [it’s due to a cult that hangs around there not that the bats know that]

So now here is Damien tide up in surprisingly good rope that he can not break free from in the middle of a summoning circle and waiting for the other to get here while the cultist surrounds the circle and start to speak in a language Damian does not understand and Damian doesn’t believe anything will happen

Until the summoning circle turns into a portal and Damian falls through as the others get there to help him

The last thing Damien remembers before he passes out is someone yelling after a while Damian wakes up in a bed…? A very soft large bed with a lot of space and as Damien takes in his surroundings he hears a door opening and as he turns his head to look he sees a tall man…? Woman? Person let’s go with that

They walk over to him and start cooing? At him and  fretting over him [✨Mom instincts✨] and stuff a few days? [time is weird Damian has found] and the person has started to bring him with them as they walk around [Danny wants the little child to get some air and cleaner Ecto] and he has met the person’s children who are named dusk and dawn respectively and they have taken him as their older brother he believes this is due to the person [who he now knows his name is Solar, it’s not just everyone calls him that due to his space obsession] calls him his Stars much like how he calls this children his Sun and Moon

And with meeting Solar with Dawn and Dusk it is a guarantee that Damien was to meet Solar infamous husband Phantom [who he has heard about from the whispers of some of the working staff] and it goes pretty well [not that Phantom can do shit to this child his husband has already taken him in as his own] so he lets the child stay for how long as he likes

Meanwhile with the Batfam

The Batfam are freaking TF out about where Damian is and is he safe OMG-

=====================================

~{ And that’s all I can really do with the DCU part I am very tired if you can’t tell and now onto the details! }~

Now for Danny outfit I’m thinking something like this

With this over coat

And for hair/hair ornaments

And for phantom you know the drill blue-greenish skin, white hair and pointy ears

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

~{ And that is about it! Sorry if the last part is weird I am very tired and sleepy anyway I hope you guys like this and see you gremlins later byeeee }~

[yasmindifference]

12!

Tim is only halfway through his explanation of the case he's been working when Bruce sighs and says, "I'll bring Hood in."

He's so astonished by this idiocy that it genuinely takes him a few seconds to recover; he has to run to catch up. Then, since he's running anyway, he uses his momentum to slide into place a few steps ahead, blocking Batman's path.

In the Cave, that's more symbolic than anything--there's plenty of room to go around him--and B respects that much, at least. He stops in his tracks.

"No, you won't," Tim says very clearly.

Batman frowns. "Red Robin."

"Batman," he returns, and Batman's frown deepens.

He's wearing the cowl now, having pulled it on as he walked--steeling himself for what he's decided he has to do. Shutting Bruce away so his paternal affection doesn't slow him down.

As usual, he's being a complete moron. World's Greatest Detective, Tim's ass.

"Red Robin," Batman says again, "your attachment to Red Hood--"

"--has nothing to do with this," Tim interrupts. "Jason didn't do it."

His pointed use of Jason's actual name goes unacknowledged; Batman sets his shoulders to loom and doubles down.

"The victim profile is clearly in line with Hood's usual targets," he says. "The victim's own victims were children, specifically children from Crime Alley, and his crimes against them were exactly the kind that Hood punishes the most severely. You can't deny that."

He's using the Batman growl and still looming over Tim...why, Tim's not exactly sure. It's not like he ever backed down from this kind of display even when he was a literal child facing down a Batman half-mad with grief. As an adult and a vigilante in his own right, who's been facing down the city's, world's, and occasionally galaxy's worst for nearly a decade...Batman is barely going to make him blink.

So he meets the eerie white lenses of the cowl straight on when he says, "No, I can't deny any of that. But Jason still didn't do it."

"You're being unrealistic," Batman says sharply. "Basing your conclusion on emotion instead of fact."

"No, that would be you," Tim corrects, just as sharp. "You're blinded by your issues with Jason's way of doing things. If you were actually thinking straight--"

"Hood makes a habit of targeting rapists, pedophiles, and anyone who breaks his so-called 'rules' in the territory he claims as his." Batman looms harder. "All three apply to the victim. What evidence do you have to support his innocence?"

"The fact that this isn't how Jason works."

Batman's face blanks out, scowl wiped away as he forcefully suppresses his reaction to Tim's words.

"Hood has never agreed with the no-kill rule," he says, "and despite our truce, he never committed to not using lethal force. It was only a matter of time before he crossed the line again, and this is precisely how he likes to 'punish' those he deems guilty."

Tim has to take a second to deliberately calm himself before he can trust his voice. His hands ache for how tightly he's fisted them.

"No," he says, once he's sure his voice won't shake with the anger trembling in his fists. "No, it isn't."

"Tim--"

"It's true that Jason isn't opposed to lethal force," he says over Batman. "It's also true that he particularly targets people who break his rules and/or prey on children. But not like this!"

If he were anyone but Batman, Tim would say Bruce falters.

"Explain."

Tim doesn't hesitate.

"Yes, Jason is willing to kill," he says. "Yes, he'll even make it hurt if the crime is bad enough. But his goal isn't to punish anyone--it's to protect people."

Batman's flat expression--what little Tim can see of it beyond the cowl, at least--says he doesn't appreciate the difference.

Tim tries again. "Jason doesn't kill because he enjoys it, he kills because he thinks it's the only way to stop the worst of the worst. That's why he goes after the people the system can't or won't contain."

Still, Batman is unmoved. Tim gets to the point.

"Our victim was tortured over the course of several hours," he says again. It was one of the first lines in his little presentation on the case, and should have immediately disqualified Jason as a potential perpetrator. "I estimate at least twelve hours passed between the infliction of the first wound and his death, which was the result of a combination of shock and blood loss."

"You said that already," Batman says, unamused.

"Yes, and you should've known that it ruled out Jason!" Tim snaps. "If Jason had done this, he might have, have kneecapped the guy first, or shot him in the gut, or something, because yes, he'd have wanted to make him hurt. But the death still would have been measured in minutes, because at the end of the day, Jason's main priority is to end suffering, not cause it."

For a long, tense moment, Batman stares at him. Tim's trembling with emotion--not just anger that Batman is doubting him, but fear at what Batman might do to Jason if Tim can't stop him.

For all of Bruce's talk about Jason crossing lines...when it comes to Jason, Bruce tends to cross plenty himself.

Finally, Batman (and he is still so very Batman) says, "I wish I could believe that, but I can't."

"Then believe in me," Tim says, seizing the opening at once. "Just give me a day or two, okay? I'll find the real killer and prove that Jason didn't do this."

After either a few seconds or a lifetime, Batman finally--finally--backs down.

"You have a week," he says, and turns away. "And if you're wrong..."

Tim isn't about to humor that ominous trailing off. "I'm not. You'll see."

"I hope so," Bruce says quietly.

Prompt #12 was one character standing up for the other! Good choice! ♡♡

[tsamsheadcanons]

Headcanon -

Sun is transfemme, and nearly nobody knows. By and large, pronouns are a roulette wheel of "does this bother me Yes/No/Unknown". If given her own space and freedom to present however they want to without any consequences or follow up, she'd present almost exclusively somewhere between androgynous to femme. Gender is a performance, and she was initially made for the stage /j

Moon had a... mild suspicion in the beginning, but couldn't place it. At first, he didn't care to. Then, he was busy with more important things. Then after that, everything went to hell in a handbasket, so it never came up.

Ironically, Eclipse does know. As much as he refuses to admit it, his sentience was essentially incubated by Sun's code, and he's spent copious time in close, attentive proximity. He also knows that Sun isn't ready to come out yet, and while he's a bit of a jerk, he's not gonna cross that line. He does, however, use "Sunny" more often than not, bc it's a nickname that always made her a little more excited and happy. He'll never admit to it.

Earth and Lunar never really questioned anything about Sunny beyond "Oh, that's a bot with anxiety". Earth specifically also has a habit of calling things cute and sweet, and very quickly picked up how Sun absolutely glowed with the phrasing, so she uses it regularly. Lunar, meanwhile, doesn't clock "Sun is sis, not cis", and personally is mildly offended bc they had more faith in his gaydar/transdar than that. How shameful (/hj)

Solar had no warning or clue but also may arguably be the most chill. Sun is Sun, and Solar care about that obsessive compulsive mess.

Monty.... wondered, sometimes, but never brought it up. Never seemed the right time, ya know?

Once Sun DOES come out, everyone is supportive and it's lowkey hilarious bc Sun is just HEAPED with praise, and Lunar and Moon devolve into "how did we not KNOW" which... not the time or place, guys, but whatever.

Jack and Dazzle just kinda blink. "Uncle is not uncle. Uncle is aunt. Auntie Sun ooooh~" and "Sunny is still Sunny. I haves a girl bestest friend and a boy bestest friend now."

There are, ofc, slip ups, but it's a quick adjustment all in all. The first time someone calls Sunny sister has her biting back giggles while her rays spin.

When Dazzle calls her Mama, though, she explodes /pos (/bittersweet)

(Also bonus points - all the "bad guys" and antagonists don't get the memo, so they go to do their evil monologs and someone interrupts when they go "and poor little Sunny, pathetic man-". Upon being corrected, they immediately go "ah, my apologies. Ahem. Poor little Sunny, pathetic girl-")

((Additional bonus points - Moon instinctively goes for the 'femboy' thing just to pause and flounder. "You're such a fucking femb- uhhhhhh f... fem... girl? ... shit-"

"Pft- uh huh? Nice save"

"Ughhhhh-" *hides in his hat*))

I love this headcanon!

[rafesbabyg1rl]

The Watcher ~ Part One

Summary: Rafe Cameron x Reader, Stalker!Rafe x Pogue!Reader Reader's parents work late on Friday nights, which she spends alone. Except Reader hasn't been alone in a long time, not that she knows of at least. Rafe has watched you for years, he's very good at it. He has no plans of formally meeting you, as he's satisfied with the current arrangement. He likes it better when Reader doesn't know he's watching. But his idea of staying an anonymous stalker is ruined when reader catches him in her bedroom one Friday night. Rafe has to figure out how to fix his mistake before he loses the only thing that makes his life worth living.

Warnings: Rafe stalks reader...that's literally the entire plot. He's pretty pervy in this, I guess. Masturbation (Rafe) in front of unconscious reader, strong/vulgar language, somnophilia (I guess?), death threat(?). If I missed anything from this part that I should include in the warnings, please let me know!

Word Count: 5.9k

Author Note: My sneak peek got a few likes, so thank you if you liked it, y'all are the reason I'm finally posting this part! I'm not sure how I feel about this fic so far, I definitely have a habit of overly critiquing my own work and never being fully satisfied with it, but I'm trying to get over that. I don't have plans for this fic, it's just going in whatever direction I can think of as I write, so if you have any suggestions, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEE let me know, I'll write pretty much anything. This is my first work published on tumblr and the first thing I've written in years, so I hope it's at least readable, and maybe even a little enjoyable. If just one person enjoys this, then my mission is accomplished. Thank you, I hope you enjoy! And do NOT be shy to share feedback or give suggestions/requests. Again, thank you!

For those of you that DID read the sneak peek, a large portion of this part was included in the sneak peek, but I highly suggest reading it over in it's entirety. This draft has undergone several additional rounds of editing and I believe it is better than the version I published as a sneak peek.

One thing about humans is that we always want what we can’t have, especially when everyone else wants that same thing. It’s just something all humans do; but what happens when you already have more than you need and everything you could ever want? Well, almost everything. Rafe Cameron has more money than he could spend in his own lifetime, he can practically buy anything he wants. Except one thing, you.

At first he just thought you were pretty, but the more he saw you out in public the more and more he liked you. The way you’d talk or laugh when you were out with your friends…god, he could tell just how sweet you are. Too delicate for him to touch, like the wings of a butterfly or the petals of a flower. This is when he went from wanting you to needing you. 

See, another thing about humans is that we admire things. And, admiration can easily turn into obsession. Everyone has been obsessed with something or someone at some point in life, it’s normal. Obsessions will come and go, like a cycle. You get obsessed with something, you get over it, and you let it go until a new obsession marks the beginning of the new cycle. But things are a bit different for Rafe, he has never gotten over anything like, ever. Not once has Rafe Cameron ever let anything in his life go. When Rafe wants something, when he needs something, he will do whatever it takes to get it. And oh, how he needs you.

Rafe’s fascination, his obsession with you has been going on for years. He won’t ever admit it, but his perfectly curated collection of your personal items in his closet proves just how bad he’s been obsessing over you. The first thing he had ever stolen from you was your drink, you had been at the same party and you left your red solo cup about three-quarters full. Nobody noticed anything when he casually picked up the cup and finished the rest of your beer, purposely lining his lips with where yours had touched the cup, which was perfectly marked by the lipstick you had been wearing. After you’d leave a restaurant, he’d take the straws from your drinks. Rafe eventually worked himself up to breaking into your house and stealing your things when nobody was home. And Rafe made sure to explore every single inch of your room. All of your favorite panties? Gone. He’d take everything, your shirts, bras, whatever he liked really. You had noticed things kept disappearing from your room, but you’d just think you misplaced it–whatever it may be, or left it in a bag somewhere. Rafe had a good system. He knows exactly how much and how often he can take from you. 

Rafe knows he’s sick. He knows that it’s wrong to watch you from outside your bedroom window, that it’s wrong to follow you around in public, to purposely bump into you so you have to mutter a ‘sorry’ as you move around him. He just really, really needs you. And in Rafe’s twisted, dark, mess of a mind he believes this is the best way–the only way. He couldn’t treat you like every other girl, no, you were special. You were his and you just didn’t know it yet. Starting early on in his life, Rafe has always been neglected, always pushed into the shadow of his younger sister, Sarah. He’s been told he ruins everything, that everything he touches turns to ash. And you’re way too perfect to ruin. So, he follows you around like a creep, lurking from a distance. Of course you didn't know he’s been following you everywhere…he liked it better that way.

Rafe knew the line had already been crossed. Hell, the line had been crossed a long fucking time ago. He doesn’t care anymore, he needs you. Heaven is smelling like you; and not because you had left your scent on him, but because he had bought the same perfume as you. He needed to know what you smell like, how sweet you are…and how sweet you taste. Heaven is watching your chest rise and fall as you sleep peacefully in your bed. Heaven is you.

What Rafe has been doing to you for years could be defined as worship. Rafe was worshiping you. He’s your good boy; your loyal man and he was going to take care of you; protect you, even if you don’t know it yet. You’re what he lives for; you’re all that keeps him going, the only thing he cares about. 

Since he’s been watching you for years, of course he knew your schedule. Of course he knew that on Fridays your parents work late at the local bar & grill that they own. This means you slept in your house by yourself practically every Friday night. So every Friday night, Rafe would sneak in through the back door that you always forget to lock. He just wants to check on you, he wants to see his pretty girl sleeping beautifully, he wants to know that his baby is okay. This is not a crime, it’s not a crime to care; he’s not insane, he’s just in love–if you could even call it that. How can it be wrong to protect what’s his? nOh, and god forbid anyone ever get in the way of his stalking routine, if anyone were to take you away from the inevitable path of meeting him…oh, the things he would do; whatever it takes.

One unforgettable Friday night, you fall asleep on your couch watching a rerun of one of your favorite shows. You enjoy being alone. If only you knew you haven’t been alone for a very long time. You’re woken up by sudden, loud noises coming from your bedroom, but you think maybe it’s just the cat, or maybe you didn’t shut your window. You get up from the couch and in several slow, cautious steps you tiptoe over to your room. When you enter your doorway, you’re immediately greeted by the sight of a tall and broad man standing in the center of your bedroom holding the last shirt you wore to his nose, breathing in your scent. The sight of all this makes you immediately freeze and stand motionless in your bedroom doorway, staring at him blankly. 

Rafe doesn’t startle when he realizes you’ve caught him red-handed. Instead, quite the opposite actually. He’s actually a bit amused, relieved even; if you hadn’t caught him just now, he never would’ve been able to work up the nerve to finally talk to you. He didn’t want to have to be creepy about things between you two, but he couldn’t talk to you like a normal person. It’d be too unpredictable, too unknown. Meeting you like this…he has all of the control. 

“There you are,” he grinned. “How beautiful…” The strangely offputting man gloated in your fear and it was obvious.

You take a step back from where you had been frozen. He takes a step forward. This cannot be happening, you think. Your brows furrow in hopelessness and defeat. Again, you freeze where you are standing, even more afraid to move now. 

You feel like you’ve seen the man before, which you have, plenty of times; but he was careful to never have too big of an interaction, so that you couldn’t recognize his face. You have no clue that you’ve been and always will be his.

 “W-wha…who are you? W-why are you in my house?” You try to keep your voice as strong as possible, but the way your words shake with trepidation betrays you. 

The man takes a quick step forward, slowing to a stop and putting his hands up in mock surrender as you jump back. “Woah, woah, hey…calm down, alright?”, he chuckles when he sees the utter horror and complete fright in your eyes. His tone switches into one of a little more seriousness, “I'm not here to hurt you, you don't need to be so scared...”.  If you didn’t feel like your only choice was to look him in the eyes, you might even believe him. But, you had no other option but to witness the animalistic spark in his eyes that lit up with each word he spoke. With each step he took, you took one further back—your heart dropped into your stomach at the sight of his cocky, twisted smile and the way he looked at you…like you’re a zebra grazing in your natural habitat and he’s the lion waiting to pounce and attack you in your own home. 

“I just wanted to see you," he leaned up against your dresser, taking in the look on your face. His face almost instantly drops the predatory look and adopts one of mock concern, almost convincing enough to hide his amusement. “Hey, it's okay, baby, it’s okay…”

“Please,” you beg. “If you leave I won’t call the cops. I won’t tell.”

Rafe cocks his head and lets out a slow breath, as if he’s disappointed in your reaction; you aren’t supposed to want him to leave. “Hey, hey…I’m not gonna hurt you. Just listen to me…you don’t wanna have to call the cops at three in the morning,” he elaborated. He’s trying to be as convincing as he can because he cannot screw this up. Even so, he still can’t help his smile that only grows at the sight of your terrified face. He shakes the smirk off, adopting a serious expression once more. “Especially when the cops won't be able to do a damn thing.” 

He continues to step closer to you with each word. He stops once his figure is looming over you, looking at you like a lion about to pounce on its prey. “You should really be more careful, sweetheart, leaving the back door open like that at this time of night, when you’re all alone…you never know who might be out there.” His voice is cold as he warns you about the dangers of the world; the dangers of himself. 

“Who are you?” You repeated. The man looks so familiar but you just couldn’t quite place his face anywhere. You just need to know what he wants; who he is. 

“That’s not important right now baby…we’re focused on you, yeah?” The man’s eyes widen, taking in every detail of your face; the only other times he’s seen you this close is when he watches you sleep. 

You could feel his breath on your face as he spoke. The look in his eyes tells you to take another step back, but when your back collides with the wall you jump; there’s nowhere left for you to go and that was exactly how he wanted it. He wanted you like this alone, afraid, and cornered. He loved your fear. The man stares at you with a predatory look although aside from the darkness and lust in his eyes, you can see something else, but…what is it?  

“W-what do you want?” You ask, keeping as calm as you can. Even though with every passing second the air gets thinner and thinner. Your stomach is in knots and your throat starts to close up. Not to mention the stinging tears in your eyes, threatening to fall at any given moment.

“Me?” he cocked an eyebrow, his eyes shamelessly roaming your body as he blew out a huff. “I just wanna have a little chat, that's all...” The unknown man takes another step towards you, invading your personal space, his tall frame towering over you as his bottom lip finds a home between his teeth. Rafe reaches up and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. “No need to be so scared, baby...”

“T-talk about what?” You have no idea what this man who you don’t know, could possibly want to talk about with you. Why is he acting like he knows you when you’re sure you’ve never even seen him before? Why is he…admiring you? No, that couldn’t be right. The mystery man is so confusing, all his twists and turns giving you whiplash. 

“Ah, you see...” he responds, pausing to place his other hand on the wall behind you, almost trapping you in. You feel his hot breath against the sensitive skin of your face, burning you like hot steam. His breath was slow and steady. He was completely calm. He liked this. He gave you a genuine smirk, bringing his face closer to your ear. “It’s more of a proposition really…”

“What is it…?” You ask. Not out of curiosity because honestly, you’re too afraid to know. But because you figure things might, just might go better for you if you play along. He stayed silent for a moment—enjoying the look in your eyes and your erratic breathing.

“All this fear…all this trembling...” he trails off as he brings his hand up to your chin, his thumb slowly tracing the outline of your lower lip. “It's nice to finally meet you...” He chuckles and leans in so that his lips nearly touch your ear. “Will you stop shaking like that if I tell you what I want?” His thumb moves from your bottom lip and he tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear; he doesn’t want anything getting in the way of his view of your pretty face.“Hmmm?” he challenged. “Or will you still be shaking like a scared little puppy?”

“I-I don’t…” You stutter, not being able to speak or even think clearly with the way he’s glaring at you. 

“Shhhh… ” he tutted, bringing his other hand from the wall to your lower back and drawing you even closer to him—until your body was almost flush against his, his touch surprisingly warm. “You're not answering my question,” he whispers your name as he runs his fingers through your hair, it’s softer than he’d imagined. 

“Please just…” The tears were no longer threatening as they began to fall down your cheeks. “Please…” Hearing this man who you do not know, say your name, was probably the most frightening thing to happen to you yet. 

“Shhh, stop that...” he calmly commanded when he saw the tears falling from your pretty eyes. Rafe's voice was soft but stern—he hated seeing you so distressed. His hand moved from your lower back to your chin, making you look up at him. “Hey it’s okay…it’s okay baby, no need for tears. I just wanna talk to you is all." You almost believe him for a moment with how sincere the glint in his eyes appeared. But you’ve picked up on his manipulative expressions. 

“My parents will be home soon…” You vaguely remember your parents mentioning something about something and blah blah blah…they’re closing early tonight. You really hope it’s true and isn’t just a figment of your imagination; something your mind is making up so you don’t completely give up. 

A cocky smile returned to his face as he let a small huff of amusement slip past his lips. He knew your parents were working late, just like every other Friday night. "Bullshit,” he chuckled. His hand moved back to your lower back, holding you against him. “It’s just you and me, pretty girl.” He grabs your waist and within the next second, you’re on your bed and he’s hovering over you. You can feel his hot breath in your ear, you can smell him, feel the excessive heat radiating from his body. He speaks quietly now, more serious than he’s been this entire time, “Don’t ever fuckin’ lie to me again. Got it?”

His words provoke a small whimper from you. How long has he been watching you? What’s he gonna do? What does he want to talk about? Your mind is filled with questions you’re too afraid to ask. “I-I’m not lying.” He leans down, his lips almost touching yours. Rafe’s eyes are looking straight into yours, admiring the complete and utter fear your eyes possess. He doesn’t want you to be scared of him. But fuck, does he love it.

“Oh yeah?” He mumbles as he presses his face into your hair, taking in your scent. He can’t believe he’s finally this close to you. He didn’t think it’d ever happen, and if you didn’t catch him tonight, it probably wouldn’t have. It’s meant to be, he thinks. “What did I tell you about lying, hm baby? I know you’re fuckin’ lyin’ to me, so you wanna try that again?”

Before your brain could muster up some bullshit response, the sound of the front door unlocking echoes through the hall and into your bedroom. Rafe holds his breath and puts his hand over your mouth, causing your eyes to widen as he leans to the side to glance down the hallway at the front door. “Shh…”, he whispers. You weren’t lying. Your parents came home from work early and they’re about to turn the doorknob and come inside the house. Rafe looks at you, the look in his eyes beyond unsettling. “Tell the cops…tell anyone, and I’ll come back and fuckin’ kill you, okay? This is our secret. Don’t make me come back and hurt you babe, I really, really don’t wanna have to do that, alright?” 

He has to be bluffing, right? But, when you look up to meet his gaze, you can tell; you can tell he meant every single syllable that he spoke. It’s not like the cops would believe you if you said you had a stalker anyways, you’re a pogue. And cops never believe a pogue. Rafe doesn’t need a response from you, the fear in your eyes tells him all he needs to know.

 Just before you hear the front door open, Rafe smirks at you. “We’re gonna have so much fun together baby.” Reluctantly, the disturbed man leans back and takes his hands away from you. Without another word, he walks over to your bedroom window and pushes it open. Before ducking to climb out, the large man looks back at you. Your breath hitches even further if that’s even possible.

 “Goodnight puppy.” The outline of his smug grin is visible even in the darkness of your room. Just as you hear the quiet voices of your parents enter your house, the dark figure turns and exits your window. When the man is outside you sit up and rush over to shut and lock the window behind him. 

With caution, Rafe watches as your mother comes to peek her head in your bedroom. She only lingers in your doorway long enough to see your dark shape laying in bed. Covered in blankets, you pretend to sleep, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to hold a casual conversation with your mother at the moment. And the last thing you want to do is raise any alarm. Not while he’s out there–whoever he is. Hot, salty tears fall from your eyes, wetting the soft skin of your cheeks. When she shuts the door, you let out a shaky breath, finally being able to breathe.But, you keep your eyes sealed shut. At least then you can’t see if the man is still watching you from outside your window. You lie awake for hours, how are you meant to go back to sleep after whatever the hell just happened? All you can do now is wait. Is he coming back? When will he come back? Who is he? Why does he want you? There’s a million different questions and worst scenarios circling around in your head. So, you just wait, it’s all you can do. 

As you wait, the hours turn into days, days turning into a week as the next Friday approaches you; you spend your time worrying about having to be home alone again. There still had been no sign of him since your encounter last week, but you decide to stay the night at a friend’s house, not wanting to take the risk. The second Friday after you came face-to-face with your stalker, you get a friend to spend the night with you. And now, after four weeks of waiting there’s still no sign of the deranged man. Although, if you had no knowledge of him stalking you for years he clearly is good at staying hidden. As the fourth Friday approaches, you think over your options. You can go to a friend’s house or have a friend stay over, as you’ve been doing. But, you’re tired of waiting for something to happen. You’re sick of not feeling safe in your own home and of having to look over your shoulder at all times. You used to love being alone, and now it’s been weeks since you’ve spent any time to yourself. You’ve had enough. This Friday you’re not hiding, you’re done being a coward. You will not allow this creep to keep taking away everything you love; you won’t allow yourself to waste any more time worrying about that psycho. So, you stay at home by yourself. He’s not gonna show, right? He was just bluffing or on drugs or something, that’s what you convince yourself.

You pull back the fluffy comforter on your bed and climb in. You pull the covers up and completely over yourself, you used to do this as a little girl when you’d have a nightmare or you’re scared of the thunder or the monster in your closet. If the blanket could protect you when you were little it should work now…right? Well, maybe it’d still work if you had a nightmare, but logically, what is it gonna do against your stalker? But no matter how much you force yourself to believe that he’s not coming back, you still find yourself praying. You’ve never been very religious, but recently you pray to whoever will listen. 

You had bought some sleeping pills from the store a few days after you discovered your secret stalker. They helped you sleep, since your brain hasn’t once stopped thinking about him since the whole fiasco. Reaching over, you pull out the drawer of your nightstand. You grab the bottle of pills, you swallow a couple dry and set the rest on your nightstand. The pills start to kick in quite sooner than usual, must be because you took double the amount…you’re gonna need them to fall asleep tonight. Your first night alone in weeks. In just a few short minutes, you’re out cold, buried underneath an absurd amount of pillows and blankets.

Rafe spent the past few weeks feeling overwrought after what he did. He feels wrong–a feeling he’s not used to experiencing. But it’s because he knows he’s ruined any chance he might’ve had with you. Before you caught him in your bedroom, he had a chance that you could meet him regularly and think he was just a normal guy. But now, all hopes of you ever thinking he’s ‘normal’ have been abandoned. He actually feels shame and…regret for his actions? He’s been seeing less and less of you, and it’s making him angry, so fucking angry. Your schedule has been relatively the same for the past years and now you’re switching it up? You’re hiding from him; running from him just like everyone else in his life. Maybe the things his family has been saying about him for most of his life is true; maybe everything he touches does turn to ash. God, why does he ruin everything? 

You are the one thing, the only thing that Rafe did not want to ruin. You’re the one thing in his life that’s too perfect to ruin…too innocent. But, the damage has been done. He doesn't have many options left. He could leave you alone, but then he’d be weak for not sticking to his word and he can’t have you thinking he’s weak and that you have the power. He could go back, but then what would he do? There was absolutely no way in hell you’d seriously talk to him, and he didn’t want to force himself onto you. He really wanted you to need him back, you have to want it. But everything you do or say now will be out of fear, it’ll be you trying to stay alive. He wanted you to be desperate for him, not desperate to get rid of him. Either way, you’re never gonna forgive him; you’ll always hate him now. Since you’ll feel the same no matter what he does now, he decides that he just needs to see you, he needs to talk to you again. It’s been far too long since he’s been close to you. He can’t take another goddamn second without seeing his reason to live.

He hurries over to your house, parking an entire block away as usual. He makes sure no eyes are on him as he sneaks around to your backyard. Rafe tries peeking through the curtains that block your window to see if you were in bed or not, but he can’t get a good view. He needs to know if you’re home. He needs to see you. 

Rafe sneaks around to the side of your house, checking all windows and doors in the process, but he has no such luck. But he doesn’t give up yet, he’ll get in, he’ll find a way. He tries the side door that leads into your garage. He lets out a giant breath of relief when the door clicks open. Once he’s inside the garage, he takes a quick glance around to analyze his surroundings and burn every inch of your house into his memory. When he finally enters your house, he takes his time to look around. Obviously Rafe knew you were a pogue–he knew everything about you, but you never really looked or acted like one. However, the inside of your home puts your life on display, making it very clear you’re a pogue. 

You sleep soundly, only being interrupted by the occasional dream; completely unaware that your stalker is making his way down the hall and into your bedroom. Rafe opens the door quietly. Your room is dark like the rest of your house, but the moonlight shining through your thin curtains provides just enough light that he can see the outline of your sleeping body. Now that your presence has been confirmed, he feels like he can finally breathe and he lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. 

Before he became totally obsessed with you and he’d see you occasionally in public, you used to just make him horny. He’d catch a glimpse of your smile or hear the softness in the way you spoke, or the innocence in your sweet laugh and his dick would be hard within seconds. And when his obsession grew and he’d watch you more frequently, sex with other girls started not doing anything for him. He needed you…he needs you. When he actually started paying attention to the way you spoke, the way you acted, he fell in love–what he thinks is love anyways. Rafe realized you’re the sweetest, most pure person he’s ever known. He didn’t think people like you really existed. His discovery led him to watch you more closely, he started taking more risks just because he needed to find your flaw. There’s no way you’re actually this perfect, it has to be an act. Now, after years of watching you he can confidently say that you really are just that perfect. Rafe needs you for more than just getting off now, he needs your comfort, he needs the kindness that radiates off of you. Which is why he’s always trying to find a way to get closer to you, he needs to absorb your sweetness. But hes really done it now; he’s fucked up big time. You hate him.

He hadn’t realized that the hate he brought upon you would tint the kindness that radiates for your being. He has to get you to let go of the hate he’s caused you, he needs you to be yourself again. He just doesn't know how, if it’s even possible.

 As you sleep soundly, his large frame towers over you as he stares down at you through the darkness. You look so peaceful, so innocent. It physically pains him to know that he’s taken away parts of your innocence. All he can do is stare at you as he mentally curses himself. He can’t wake you up and ruin your small moment of peace. It’s better if you don’t know he’s there. 

Your stalker slowly raises his hand and uses his thumb and pointer finger to pull your blanket down to your knees. Even with the blankets pulled down most of your body was hidden from him. Almost everything is left to the imagination in the loose, patterned pj pants and the oversized, long sleeve shirt that you’re wearing. He can only see a small portion of your lower stomach due to your shirt slightly riding up. And that small bit of skin is enough to trigger his memories of you. Because of course he’s seen you countless times; he’s got your body memorized.

He’s practically panting as he takes in the sight of you, imagining that you’re unclothed beneath him; his memory is sharp enough to almost see it. His cock grows to press against his jeans and his eyes trail up to your beautiful face. The ache in his needy cock starts to become unbearable. Your name slips past his lips in the form of a mumble when he starts to palm himself through his newly tightened jeans. 

Okay, Rafe has definitely jerked off to the thought of you, your smell…everything about you makes him lose whatever control he ever even had to begin with. Something he hasn’t gotten to do yet is jerk off with you right in front of him as a live viewing source, fresh for his eyes. He’s gonna be able to cross that off the bucket list soon enough; he can’t wait any longer. His hand stops its ministrations over his jeans as his head turns and he moves over to your closet, grabbing a pair of delicate, worn panties from the top of your laundry hamper. He brings the treasure up to his nose to smell you. God, he could cream his fucking pants right now. He quietly walks back over to you, taking a look at the pill bottle on your nightstand. He picks it up with his free hand, eyes quickly scanning over the label. He smirks as he sets it back down. Rafe turns his head to look back at you. His smirk grows even wider as he leans back, cocking his head as he observes you. Yeah, you’re definitely gonna be out for a while.

With his pants and boxers around his ankles, he stands over you. Your panties between his hand and his cock as his fist slowly pumps up and down his length. His other hand meticulously pulls your shirt up to reveal your chest.

“Fuckkk…” he whispers under his breath as his bottom lip is held captive between his teeth. Your perfect tits are spilling out of your bra as you lie asleep on your back. He lightly fiddles with the ends of your hair as his hand pumps over his dick repeatedly and without rhythm. He takes his time, Rafe never likes to rush this. Especially not with you.

Your subconscious mind reacts to his light touch and sounds, pulling you into a wet dream; seeing as a main side effect of the medication you took was vivid dreams. You’ve also been unusually horny lately, probably because you’d been too afraid to touch yourself when you thought you were being watched twenty-four/seven. His fingers trail up your stomach and into the valley of your breasts with feather light touch.

You stir a bit, not because you felt him, but because the dream you’ve been thrown into by your subconscious is starting to get your body all worked up. You’ve been extra horny recently and keep having sex dreams since you haven’t been able to touch yourself the past few weeks, having a stalker and all. As he leans down to lightly kiss the skin in between your boobs, a moan slips past his lips, vibrating off of your skin and interrupting the mostly silent room. The only other sound that can be heard in the quiet room is that caused by Rafe’s hand quickly moving up and down his cock; the friction caused by the soft fabric of your panties generates a quiet noise. Pre-cum leaks from his slit and seeps into the fabric of your recently worn panties. He leans back down to create a hickey on your chest and hopes that you won’t wake up from the sudden feeling, although if you did that might be even better. Shaking the selfish thought out of his head, he sucks strongly at the smooth skin between your beautiful tits. He pulls his mouth off with a pop! Leaning back to see the mark he left, he smirks knowing you’ll see it too eventually. The already rhythmless movements of his hand gets even more erratic the closer he gets to reaching his orgasm. 

The man standing above you runs his hand back down your chest and abdomen as you sleep. Completely unaware of what's happening to your physical body right now, you begin to get all wrapped up in your dream. You only ever get sex dreams when you’re so overly horny, which you’ve been the past few weeks. That combined with the sleeping medication you took, made this particular dream feel different; it felt so…real. The only dream-like part about it was that you couldn’t see the man's face for whatever reason. 

While you’re in a deep sleep, you involuntarily let out a needy whine as your active mind plays games with you. When Rafe hears you he thinks he imagined it, until he hears you do it again. He wonders if you could feel him, except he’s not even touching you right now. Realizing that's clearly not the reason, he furrows his brows in confusion. He pulls the duvet cover completely off of you to reveal the way you keep periodically squirming as your body searches for the same feeling your mind is experiencing; and the way your toes tighten up and curl as you’re tricked into thinking you feel pleasure. 

He can’t take it, not when you look like this. The man hovering over your unconscious figure lets out a lewd moan that corrupts the silence as hot strings of his cum spurt out of the pink, glistening tip of his cock and onto the pair of your panties that he's got clenched in his fist, immediately soaking into the fabric. Surprisingly, when he gets through his orgasm, he adoringly covers you back up with your blankets and leaves your house, locking the door he entered through to be sure you were safe. He got enough to satisfy him for now as he works on a plan to change the way you think of him.  He’ll be back for more of you soon enough. He has to fix this; the biggest mistake he’s ever made and the only regret he’ll ever carry. 

To be continued...

Thank you for reading! I hope this was enjoyable and not a waste of time. I spent a lot of time on this part, especially with the editing since I never really feel done with anything. If you have literally ANY feedback, questions, or suggestions, PLEASE feel free to let me know! I don't really have any solid plans for this fic so if you have any ideas I just might include them, there's not much I won't write!

[canmom]

finished Carmilla. what a wonderfully silly novel that was. I need to download an ebook to count how many times Le Fanu uses the word 'languid'.

that said, reading with modern eyes, I think it's a bit of a victim of many subsequent novels elaborating on vampires, and some of the conventions of Victorian literature - in particular, the rule that the narrator has to survive in order to recount the tale, and the evil must be overthrown and tied up neatly. worse, Laura ends up an entirely passive character, with the final resolution seeing Carmilla killed by a couple of side characters, one of whom hasn't even been mentioned up to that point.

the novel is at its best when Carmilla and Laura are interacting. I would have liked to see Laura return Carmilla's affections a bit more, rather than just being like 'well that was weird' every time Carmilla lezzes it up or says something hilariously morbid. but there is definitely humour in her being very literally the straight girl.

I've seen subsequent adaptations of Carmilla, notably my friend Maki @mxmy's Dr Carmilla character, who's - at least in what is released so far - a space vampire with a habit of picking up waifs and strays and turning them into immortal pirates, something which tends to end badly for everyone. the other is (if anyone still remembers) the 2014 Carmilla web series on youtube, which is set in a college dormitory in the States, and presents Carmilla in a more positive light. in the end, I was a little surprised to find both these works take little other than the premise of 'lesbian vampire called Carmilla' and her relationship with a girl called Laura or Lorelei. the web series pulls in a few other names from the novel but completely reframes the situation, adding a new male vampire who is exploiting Carmilla to act as a villain (it was 2010s pop-feminism, you know how it goes). Dr Carmilla currently only vaguely hints at the relationship between Carmilla and Lorelei in the released songs, but involves a new apocalyptic scenario (I think that's about all I can say) - but it does at least keep Carmilla as an itinerant traveller, and keeps the tragic air of the story.

it is not entirely made clear in the novel if the waking Carmilla is aware of her vampiric excursions. it's easy to suppose while reading it that she's just a good liar who's taking them all for a ride, and I think that's still the best supported interpretation, but I think there's equally a reading where she's unaware of the whole vampire thing, and genuinely likes this daft straight girl Laura and before her, the general's daughter. if she is aware, she's really bad at covering her tracks, particularly with her disappearing act. the whole anagram schtick is explicitly named as a rule she has to operate under, but there's plenty she does to tip off her victims and their families. perhaps the point is that she's just charismatic enough to get away with it.

the character of carmilla's mother is a thread that never quite seems to get resolved. the natural assumption is that she's another vampire, dropping her daughter off in a new feeding ground - but since the ending acts like Carmilla was the only surviving vampire, I wonder if perhaps she should be taken as an illusion conjured by Carmilla, perhaps the reason she has to be sent away on a mysterious carriage ride as soon as possible in each instance?

the vampire is traditionally taken to be in part a symbol of the feudal past of cruel aristos persisting and corrupting the rational present, something that makes plenty of sense for Dracula, but in Carmilla's case, nearly every character is a castle-dwelling aristocrat of some sort, and the peasants and servants are treated as mostly beneath notice by the narrative and characters (one scene that stands out has Carmilla, feeling insulted by a trinket seller, idly talk about how in her day she'd have called for his bloody execution - a comment that seems to bother Laura very little). the main characters are even related to Carmilla's family. perhaps just a case of early iterations of an idea, not yet fully formed.

one thing I do like about Carmilla is the amount of physical affection - Carmilla is constantly touching and kissing Laura, and while Le Fanu probably didn't mean this the way we would today, it provides for strong images of sickly Carmilla draping herself all over her new object of affections, like she's acquired a new favourite doll. I can see why this is widely understood as a lesbian novel even though it's very Victorian; it's kinda dark yuri, like Carmilla is coming into the lives of these lonely girls and kind of lovebombing them with expressions of affection and devotion, and whomst among us... it would take many more decades of horny writers to really get into the eroticism of vampiric blood drinking itself though, which here largely takes place in a deniable way, while Laura is sleeping.

despite the reputation for Victorian novels to be long and rambling, this was a rather brisk book. I honestly wish it was a bit longer - a very obvious addition would be a chance for Laura to talk to Carmilla once she's finally figured out the vampire thing, instead of rushing to the ending. it seemed Le Fanu was more interested in explaining vampires (fucked up amirite), which makes sense for the time, but nowadays we all know what the deal is with vampires and instead the core relationship is the interesting part. ah well! it's worth the time to read.