#i need to learn to focus on one thing at a time

[wittyno]

Couple of things

1) don't buy a gun if you don't know how to use a gun. Maybe do it if you've gone through a firearms training course taught by a professional. But even then are you ready to live with taking a life? It's one thing to take a training course, it's another to end another human beings life.

2) grief is normal in these situations. Take some time for yourself if you can. Let yourself feel your feelings.

3) the work doesn't stop. There is so much good work being done by so many people. While today is bleak, that doesn't mean tomorrow has to be. We have, and continue to, accomplish so much. I suggest the YouTube channel Huge If True for optimistic science and tech stories. The groups that needed your support before the election still need it now. They need it more than ever. Focus on your communities and how you can help. Go to your local city / town meetings. Learn what average people are doing to make your life better and work.

4) do not go gentle into apathy. Do not allow these election results to stop you from caring about your fellow man. Everyone has inherent worth. Do not allow these election results to make you unkind or even cruel. Even if those people are themselves cruel and unkind.

TL;DR: DON'T BUY A GUN IF YOU AREN'T READY FOR THE CONSEQUENCES OF A GUN!

The problem is that America has beaten down its people for decades and gotten them weak and desperate and now promises a way out, a way to transcend and rise above, through selling out their fellow man. They encourage contempt and hatred as one way ticket to not being included with the masses being death marched to poverty or imprisonment or whatever other bitter end surely awaits the people they’re told are beneath them. An embarrassingly large chunk of white men are just straight up nazis these days as a way to dissociate from the rest of the carnage around them, even if they’re broke and uneducated and from an impoverished background themselves. They’ll vote for and align themselves with anything for a taste of power and control that makes them feel a little less helpless. The same goes for minorities. They’ll punch down if they think it’ll get them somewhere, even if in reality they’re punching sideways. I don’t know what else to say, really. Everybody is so incredibly hateful. We are a loveless, disrespectful nation. We are so spread thin by our government that we would sell each other out in a heartbeat for an ounce of relief. This is what we’ve come to.

It’s not even about Trump at this point. He’s gonna get in office and do whatever he does and it’s gonna be a mess but whatever. This is indicative of deeper problem. This is just the ugly consequence of the already present reality in this country that we all just despise each other. There is no solidarity and there is no love. Trump being in office or not doesn’t change the fact that America is a breeding ground for violent hatred. Trump has given people a shining example of how to give in to the worst parts of your human nature and make it the problem of everyone around them. I don’t even know what we’re supposed to do about that. I don’t know if that’s something we can come back from. And if anything COULD be done about it, Trump certainly wouldn’t do it. Honestly, Kamala probably wouldn’t have either. We are so deeply fucked.

However, I must say, if you voted for Trump, I hope that peace never finds you. Instead, I hope clarity strikes you someday like a clap of lightning and you have to live the rest of your life with the knowledge and guilt of what you’ve done and who you are as a person.

Love yall. Shit is so bleak but the world keeps spinning until it doesn’t, I guess. We can’t count on the government for literally even a shred of progress or hope so just keep up the good fight in your own personal lives. That’s literally the only thing to be done at this point. Stay safe out there. Maybe buy a gun.

[lets-try-some-writing]

I got the image of the Jack, Miko and Rafael learning to imitate Distressed/terrified Sparkling cries and using them against the decepticons. It’s a very efficient defense mechanism. Every cybertronian who heard them is freaking out because oh primus how is the squishy thing making that noise and I gotta protect it at all costs. The sheer chaos that would ensue as the ‘protect/rescue the sparkling’ programming kicks in full force.

——

The vehicons are clustered at the other end of the room panicking. They don’t know what to do. The human sparklings are looking right at them and making distress noises. The guilt is killing them.

Knockout going “is the car form less alarming?! If I turn into a car will you stop seeing me as the threat?!”

Breakdown is having a breakdown.

Starscream pinned to the wall on the other side of the room having an internal crisis. He doesn’t like this. Make it stop.

Soundwave makes no noise but you can FEEL the sheer distress radiating off of him.

Megatron is frozen. No thoughts, head empty. He’s not moving at all. He doesn’t know how to handle this.

——

The autobots have mixed feelings about this. They’re glad the kids have a way of defending themselves but please don’t do it near them. They’re stressed out enough as it is.

(This might sound kinda dumb but I thought it was kinda funny. Very tired while writing this)

Wait no this is actually brilliant.

The Decepticons never anticipated their long buried parental nature to be used against them. No one did. But they day the human children turned up on the battlefield looking far too confident, every Bot and Con present had the all encompassing feeling that something was terribly wrong. Their suspicions were quickly confirmed when, before the Decepticons could do much of anything to get the relics they were after, Rafael began to wail.

Normally, human screams meant nothing. But there was a certain pitch that sounded so close to a cry of distress from a sparkling that, to warriors who had not heard a sparkling in millennia, it was enough to send them running to help. In this case, the issue was only compounded as the children scattered like mice and started making the same noises. The Decepticons could hardly focus on the Autobots booking it to the relics as they frantically tried to locate the fictitious sparklings calling for aid.

The Vehicons managed to get to Jack, but he just kept looking up at them defiantly. Every time one of the dozen or so Vehicons on the field tried to grab him, blast him, or otherwise hurt him, Jack would chirp like a sparkling and send all of them scurrying back. It wasn't cute to the Vehicons. Having never seen actual sparklings but still having the coding needed to adore them, they looked at Jack and saw a weird frame-walker. They weren't sure what to do about it except try to haul themselves away while also keeping a vague circle around the human male.

Miko on the other hand made it a point to chase after Megatron and Soundwave, screeching like a sparkling about to be shredded. Neither stopped for her, but Megatron completely lost his train of thought every time that screech rang out. He could have been aiming at Optimus with a perfect head shot and he would be unable to fire as Miko's distressed sounds rang out in his audials. He KNEW she wasn't a sparking. His coding wasn't even that strong. But by Primus, hearing her screech was the same as watching a civilian get run over by a bus, repeatedly. Focus was impossible.

Soundwave wasn't much better. He didn't react outwardly, but the slowing of his steps and the way he tried to sidestep Miko gave away his distress. He avoided her like the plague, trying to refocus but being unable to really get far as Miko screamed like a demon. It was a fight against the Unmaker himself to keep Soundwave from bolting over to collect the sparkling who sounded so very upset.

Rafael, for his part, followed Miko's lead and harassed the other three members of High Command most often found out on the field. Breakdown ran screaming the moment Rafael started chirping at him. This was both out of fear of the frame-walker and to escape the inevitable overreaction of his coding. He may or may not have attempted parkour once or twice to get as far away from the smallest of the humans as possible.

Knockout tried to ignore Rafael when the kid chirped up at him, he really really did. But how does one ignore the Cybertronian equivalent of a soaking wet kitten meowing up at you? Simply put: you don't. Knockout gave in and quickly dropped down to try and soothe the non-existent sparkling every. single. time. Rafael pulled his noise trickery. He never fails to panic and attempt to flash colorful things at Rafael to get him to stop. Every Decepticon has since been endlessly disappointed in him.

Starscream, being terrified of things that really shouldn't be there, took the skies the instant the trio began screeching. Nope. Not today Unicron. He'll get the mission done or get the heck out of dodge to avoid coding coming online. He doesn't need empty nest syndrome on top of a crippling case of "I Love Power." He also doesn't need to deal with the horrific mental image of a squishy somehow managing to sound like a sparkling. Nope. Nope. NOPE.

The Autobots are grateful the kids can protect themselves a bit now. But by Primus, they have known NO peace since the kids figured it all out.

[t2316m]

Jason uses sour candy to help get himself out of panic attacks and to ground his emotions. It just helps pull himself back into reality and focus on the task at hand, especially when patrol gets rough. Which is why he always carries around a shit ton of sour candy at all times. He also offers it to the other bats when he thinks they could use it. This earns him the nickname of ‘the candy man’.

Jason doesn’t make the connection and thinks it comes from the horror movie, and how his “good” fashion taste and his post-Lazurus stunt of stalking Bruce was kinda reminiscent of the Candyman. Until one day he learns it’s ’the candy man’ like Willy Wonka and the song in the movie not ‘candyman’ like the urban legend.

You can probably guess the reaction to this realization, anyways the situations that earned Red Hood ‘The Candy Man’ nickname

—-

Tim: *dizzy during patrol* Hood, Hey, Can we stop? I- I need to sit for a second.

Jason:*immediately noticing the hyperventilating and intense trembling* Oh yea you’re good, we can stop, here want a toxic waste?

Tim: How’d you know my blood sugar was low?

Jason: *who had thought he had totally nailed the empathetic older brother thing helping Tim through a panic attack and was seconds away from initiating a breathing exercising*...Just a hunch?

—-

Jason: *on patrol with Damian noticing he’s really distracted and unsteady, stopping to hand him some candy* Here, this’ll help

Damian: Todd, I am suffering blood loss from a reopened wound, why would you hand me a warhead!?

Jason: It..It’ll prevent shock, just eat it. I’ll call backup.

—-

Dick: *Goes MIA during patrol to hide in a secluded spot of an abandoned building cause he’s having a panic attack*

Jason: *finds him and contemplates just leaving but instead walks over to him and doesn’t say anything as he takes Dick’s hand and dumps a handful of semi-melted smog balls into it before attempting to walk away with a smug look on his face*

Dick: *Grimacing as he pops one in his mouth.* Ya know Hood, I really fucking hate sour stuff

*There’s an moment of silence before Dick’s face softens*

C’mon Jay let’s go home

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

SVT with an autistic partner

Requested? Yes!

Genre: just a ton of comfort

Seungcheol 

Totally lets you practice conversations with him. It took a single time of you being anxious about making what feels like a simple phone call and he’s getting to the bottom of it. When you tell him that sometimes you’re intimidated by carrying conversation and tend to overthink it, he simply asks you to pretend it’s with him. You think he might make fun of you, but he’s gentle about guiding you in what to say to certain things. Now it’s common practice to ask him to rehearse something with you before you do it, but if it ever gets to be too much, he’ll just pick up the phone and make the call for you, no problem.

Jeonghan

Now this is a guy who has an emotional support sword, so he totally gets the need to fidget. It’s grounding and helps him focus, so when you’re out to dinner with friends and he notices you’re not really present, he’ll put an extra straw or chopstick in your hands to twirl. When you ask him later how he knew what you needed, he brushes you off. He’ll always find you something to fidget with, even if it’s his own hand or hoodie string. You find yourself just reaching for him rather than anything else if you feel that particular feeling coming on, and it makes him smile that you feel comfortable depending on him like that.

Joshua

I’m so sorry, but I just love the idea of Joshua being kind of crafty. He notices you’re feeling a little overstimulated one day and pulls you to the table, putting a coloring book and colored pencils in front of you. You look at him, almost offended, because you are an adult, damn it!!! But he asks you to humor him, picking out two pages, one for you and one for him. It does wonders, giving you something to focus on in a time of internal chaos. You lose a lot of time to it and when you finally check back in, he’s smiling lovingly at you, asking if you feel a little better. It’s a regular habit now to sit and do something like this just because and you’re touched that he seems to enjoy it as much as you do.

Jun

He notices that sometimes you’re avoidant of conversation with others, and one time he asks why. You admit that sometimes you feel like you misread or totally miss social cues and facial expressions and it makes you anxious thinking about how you might butcher a seemingly simple conversation. But listen. He’s the perfect person to tell this to. Sometimes, before bed, he’ll make faces at you, sometimes subtle and sometimes not, and then ask you to read them. You’re embarrassed by this at first, but eventually you come around to this little game because he’s so gentle about guiding you, telling you what to look for. Furrowed eyebrows = confused or angry. Blushing = embarrassed or shy. Tight jaw = stressed or angry. It lets you learn it in a safe environment and you find that the longer you do it, the more comfortable you are in conversation in daily life.

Hoshi

This is so simple. He’s a yapper!! He’ll do all the talking in social settings and doesn’t force you to participate. If you do happen to be pulled into conversation, he’s quick to give you an encouraging smile, but he’s also quick to give you an escape by changing the subject if he can tell today is just not the day. But at home, he’s the listener because he always tries to find the things that you like to yap about. He’s aware that you do a lot of listening in day to day life, and in the privacy of your home, it’s his turn to listen. 

Wonwoo

Whereas Joshua helps you find hyper fixations, Wonwoo helps you control how much time and energy you lose to those hyper fixations. Interests are good, he tells you, and he’d never change anything about you, but he will not let you stay up all night. He will not let you skip a meal. He will not let you forget the important things. Oh, don’t get me wrong, he’s so so gentle about it. It’s all ‘Baby, come eat and tell me about it’, or ‘Baby, come to bed and tell me about it’, or ‘Baby, you need to go get ready for work, but tell me all about it later, okay?’. It brings balance to your life that you didn't realize you desperately needed. 

Woozi

Cliche, I know, but his studio is his hide out from the rest of the world. The catch is that it can also be yours. Sometimes, it’s nice to just come in and disassociate for a while after an overwhelming day and he lets you do it in total silence with headphones on if you want. But sometimes, he’ll pull you over to sit next to him and put his headphones on you to listen to something he’s working on. One time, you told him that you found his music and his voice relaxing, so he thinks about that when he makes what he makes. He likes that you use it for comfort and it motivates him. 

DK

You’re putting off doing something like going to the post office to mail something. Seokmin notices that this package has been sitting there for a while and asks you about it. When you admit that you don’t know how the whole post office thing works, he asks you to explain what you mean. Kind of embarrassed, you admit that you don’t understand the structure of it. Where’s the line? What do you say when you get up to the front? What kind of questions might they ask? Is there anything you should be asking them for? This sweet, sweet man makes you get up and physically act the whole thing out with him in the comfort of your living room without a single laugh. You’re still nervous the next day when you go and finally mail this stupid package out, but Seokmin enthusiastically cheers you on when he notices it’s gone later that night. 

Mingyu

He notices a few quirks since living with you. For example, you can’t simply do the dishes. When he asks why you unloaded the dishwasher, but didn’t empty the sink, he isn’t trying to be mean, but he doesn’t understand when you say it’s too big of a job to do in one go. He asks what you mean, and you explain that it’s not just ‘doing the dishes’ for you. It’s unloading the dishwasher, and putting the clean dishes away, then loading the dishwasher with dirty dishes and getting into the cabinet to get detergent and fill the little compartment with it. Then it’s starting the dishwasher and putting back the detergent, only to have to do it all again tomorrow. His eyes widen a bit at your rant, but then he sweetly says, ‘Okay, baby. Do it however you need to’. He’ll never say anything about it again, but it doesn’t stop him from just doing the dishes amongst other chores himself the next day because he doesn’t want you to stress about it like that. 

Minghao

One time, after not seeing you for a little bit due to busy schedules, Minghao asks how you’re doing. You say you don’t know. He quirks his eyebrow. “Don’t know as in Not Good?” You shake your head. “No, I just don’t know.” He carefully asks questions, seeking to understand, and realizes it’s not that you don’t feel anything. You just don’t really know how to put a name to it. After that, some date nights feel a little bit like therapy, just short of the ‘and how did that make you feel?’ For example, you tell him about a rough meeting at work that day and he asks, “Did you feel frustrated by it?” You think and finally say, “Yeah, maybe”. Over time, it turns into an ‘I think I’m frustrated’ and then finally a definitive ‘I’m frustrated’. He’s really proud that you can express yourself more clearly because that means he can help you more.

Seungkwan

You don’t do well with change, and he totally understands it. When he goes away for work, he understands that it breaks your routine in a lot of ways. He starts by giving you a heads up as soon as he knows that some travel is coming up, putting it on a shared calendar - both physical and electronic. In the weeks ahead of this trip, he’s reminding you gently, “I leave in a couple weeks”. It’s not to be mean, anything but. It’s to help you mentally prepare for the incoming change. He helps you in little ways in those couple weeks, making sure you have your alarm set automatically, making a meal plan to stick on the fridge and scheduling a grocery delivery with everything you’ll need for it, putting gas in your car in case you need to use it, etc. He also asks you what you’d like to do with your down time while he’s gone, suggesting a binge of a book or TV series that you liked before. He knows you’re not a child and would never treat you as such, but he wants you to feel comfortable going about life as usual when he has to be gone and can’t be there to do those little things for you himself. So he does everything he can to make sure that everything else is as routine as possible. 

Vernon

One of the things he loves most about you is that you guys can just coexist in the same space in total silence. It’s not unusual for you both to sit on opposite ends of the couch, headphones on, doing your own thing. And sometimes, he knows this is your preference to not really talk out loud. Still, he’ll text you to check in, even if you’re just a few feet away from him. Sometimes you have entire conversations through text like this and he really, truly doesn’t mind. There’s something intimate about it for him in a way he can’t really explain, and he likes that you’re comfortable with that mode of communication, even if you’ve had a hard day. Yeah, you’ll have to pry his phone from his cold, dead hands for this reason alone. 

Chan

One night, you tell him you’re feeling pretty anxious. He doesn’t ask why, but he can tell your nervous energy isn’t going to just go away anytime soon. So, he offers for you two to go to the gym. You gape at him. “It's the middle of the night, Chan.” “And the gym is open 24 hours. It’ll probably be empty. Let’s give it a try, maybe you can work off some of your energy.” Midnight trips to the gym are a regular thing for you guys now, because he was totally right. It’s usually empty and it does help shut off your brain enough to go home and get some sleep. You feel bad about it sometimes because of the hours he keeps for his job, but he won’t hear anything about it because he’ll go with you to do anything to put your mind at ease. 

[countesspetofi]

I've been pretty sure all along that this is how the election was going to go, but damn it all, how desperately I wanted to be wrong. How deeply, how passionately I longed for my faith in the American people to be restored.

Not the people who turned out for the fascist candidate; they were always going to vote for him, no matter what happened. Nothing could have stopped that. But the people who wouldn't vote for the Democratic candidate simply because she didn't tick off every single box on their list of Perfect Candidate Qualifications? They are the ones who are going to have the most blood on their hands, and I hope they will come to understand that. It's 2016 all over again.

And everybody who insisted that Biden drop out of the race because they thought that the most important thing was a candidate who would "wipe the floor with Trump in a debate?" Well, I hope those couple of hours of entertainment were worth the nation's and the world's next four years of pain. Did you enjoy it as much as the rest of us are going to suffer for it?

This is the last of these negative thoughts I'm going to post about. I didn't even want to say this much, because I-told-you-so isn't really productive. I just needed to get it out of my system. Now, like we did in 3016, we have to focus on how we're going to get through this and trust that the people who got us here will have learned their lesson and do better next time.

FUCK PEOPLE WHO VOTED TRUMP. I hate you with all my heart and I hope you burn in hell.

but most importantly, FUCK PEOPLE WHO DIDN’T VOTE KAMALA HARRIS.

You thought you fucking did something by not voting, well guess what, this is partially your fault. You allowed this to happen. By not voting for Trump’s opponent, you let him win. I hope you’re fucking happy with yourself. Good fucking job.

Now everyone will suffer the consequences of your actions. Not only you americans, but people outside of the US as well.

You thought you stopped a genocide supporter, but you allowed another one, who by the way is much much worse, to come into power (AGAIN). You keep talking about how the system needs to be changed or whatever, and you joke about overthrowing the government, and that votes change nothing. Yet you don’t do anything. You want a revolution? Then fucking start one. Come on, change the system. Overthrow the government, go ahead. “Both candidates are evil and I don’t want either to be president!” THEN DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT.

Oh, you don’t actually want to do that? It sounds scary and impossible to achieve? Then you better at least fucking vote next time. Make a difference.

You achieved nothing, and only made things worse.

[thezombieprostitute]

Barista Steve - Part 4

Summary: Finals have you super stressed out. Steve knows how to help with that.

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: Bad parents, Dom/Sub dynamics, Smut. Please let me know if I missed any!

You were dealing with the big F's: Finals, Family and Fear of Failure. Your parents wouldn't stop reminding you of the importance of passing your exams. Your classes were incredibly difficult. And you didn't want to think about what would happen if you didn't pass one of your finals.

As you leave your latest study group, you see Steve waiting for you by his motorcycle. You're practically running to hug him, finding solace in his scent, his touch, his comforting words.

Steve has been frustrated by your situation as well. He knows you're not getting real support from your family. Well, not the kind of support that actually helps. More the kind of support that only makes things worse. He's doubtful of your defense of "they mean well". He's seen the effects of the stress and while he's worked hard to help mitigate them, there's only so much he can do.

The one big light at the end of the tunnel for both of you was your agreement to move in together as soon as you got your degree. Neither of you cared that your parents wouldn't approve of Steve, you both knew there'd be no one else for either of you. You took care of each other, supported each other, and you were tired of keeping him a dirty secret.

Besides, your parents had told you time and time again they wouldn't support you forever. Part of you knows you should've moved out sooner, but it was a truth you couldn't realize until you got a taste of what you really wanted. Steve definitely provided that. You'd be forever grateful to him for his patience.

"Hey there, Good Girl," Steve coos into your ear. "I figured you could use a break. A chance to shut down your brain."

"That sounds perfect, Sir," you agree. "Need to let my brain relax."

"Then let's put your choker on and get your helmet."

Steve didn't take you to the studio like you thought he would. Instead he parked the motorcycle outside of one of your favorite diners. The constriction of the choker reminds you that he's in charge, you're not to question his commands, but you can't hide the look of confusion on your face.

He sees your face and puts his hand on the back of your neck, "I need to take care of my Good Girl and I know you haven't been eating well lately. So we're going to get you food, water. And remember, I'll order for you so you don't have to waste brain power."

"Thank you, Sir," you happily sigh. You've been subsisting on granola bars and coffee lately. Your stomach rumbles at the thought of real food.

Steve orders you both moderately sized meals. He knows you need to eat but too much food could hurt you just as much as the too little you've had lately. He also makes sure you both drink water. He doesn't want to be unfair and order something for himself that you can't or shouldn't eat and he knows you need to hydrate. Especially after you start drinking your water and it's gone in a blink!

After the meal you're starting to feel sleepy. Steve kisses your forehead and says he's taking you to his place. Again, you're confused that you're not going to the studio but you don't question. You just enjoy holding onto him while riding his motorcycle. Breathing in his scent, feeling his muscled torso underneath your arms. The cold wind doesn't bother you much because he's just so warm.

Steve walks you up to his apartment. You hope it'll be both of yours soon. He directs you inside and tells you to wait for him in the bedroom. You don't need to be told twice.

Once inside the bedroom, you drop to your knees and let your arms relax as you wait for his orders. It's taken a lot of time and effort but you've learned how to shut down the part of your brain that feels bad for "sitting around doing nothing". Wearing the choker, feeling it every time you breath, is a good reminder and a good focus to keep you from fidgeting and thinking about what's next.

Steve walks in wearing nothing but a pair of low hanging grey sweatpants. You fight the urge to moan at the view of his tattooed, muscly torso while your pussy clenches. He steps in front of you. "Undress," he orders.

You stand as you hurry to obey. When you're fully naked you successfully fight the urge to try to cover yourself with your arms. You never have to feel ashamed in front of Steve. He's told you time and time again how much he loves seeing all of you. He's shown you as well.

"Good Girl," he purrs. He brings out a skimpy but soft looking nightgown. "Arms up."

You raise your arms and he puts the nightgown on you. It fits perfectly, like you knew it would. Steve always seems to know what feels comfortable for you. Knows what you need and how you need it. It's why you trust him enough to shut your brain down around him.

He caresses your cheek, eyes full of love, before pulling back the blankets on the bed. "Now lay down on your side for some cuddles."

You practically leap onto the bed in eagerness. Cuddles with Steve are always so restful and generally lead to more. A part of you is worried that you're going to fall asleep, but you quiet that down. You're following Sir's orders, being his Good Girl. He knows what he's doing.

Steve gets into the bed and holds you from behind. You've never felt so safe and warm as you do in these moments. He gently caresses you, giving you occasional kisses to the top of your head. Your eyelids are getting so heavy. He whispers, "go ahead and sleep, Good Girl. Pretty sure you need it. I'll hold you the entire time."

He says more but your brain doesn't processes anything other than that he's talking, it just drifts off to sleep.

You're not sure how long you slept for, but every part of you knows you needed that sleep. True to his word, Steve is still holding you and you smile in appreciation, small tears forming in the corner of your eye. You feel Steve stir and he squeezes you tight.

"Did you sleep well?" He yawns and kisses the top of your head.

"Yes, Sir."

"Glad to hear it," he mumbles as he continues to kiss you. You can feel his erection against your ass and fight the urge to roll your hips against him. "My Good Girl needed some rest, didn't she?"

"Yes, Sir," you rasp. Your need is building. He can definitely hear it in your voice because he softly chuckles against your skin.

"I think my Good Girl needs something else now," he purrs into your ear, sending electricity straight to your core.

He moves his hand down your body and reaches underneath the nightgown. You understand now why it was so skimpy; not only did it show off plenty of skin, but it gave him ready access to everything. He starts rubbing his fingers along you folds as he nibbles gently on your shoulder, making you whimper.

"I'm going to get on my back and you're going to sit on my face," he tells you. "No hovering."

"Yes, Sir," you whimper, both excited and nervous. Steve had a tendency to get lost in the taste of your pussy, making you overstimulated.

Before he lets you go he whispers, "what's your safe word?" You tell him and he thanks you before rolling onto his back.

You're quick to move into position, but you still let yourself enjoy the sight of Steve's body, his erection making a prominent tent in his sweatpants. As you're settling onto his face, Steve is already pinning you to him and devouring you. His strong hands hold you in place as he uses his tongue to reach all of your favorite spots. They're some of his favorite, too, because of the sounds the elicit from you.

The headboard is the only thing you can grasp and you do so with all your might as the first orgasm of many hits you hard and you cry out from pleasure. A small part of your brain realizes how much you've been needing this as it feels like everything in your system is finally unclenching from all your stress. It's only been a minute or so and your limbs are already feeling like jelly.

After the second orgasm, you're already crying from relief and pleasure. You repeatedly rasp, "thank you, Sir," not knowing if Steve can actually hear it or not. You try to roll your hips, a silent plea for him not to stop. He responds with a squeeze to your hips, an acknowledgement of your request as he adjusts just enough to reach that one spot he knows drives you crazy. He smiles as you cry out from the sensation and ride his face like your life depended on it. He keeps going until you cum on his face a third time.

He slows to a stop as your body goes lax, tears flowing freely down your face. He gently maneuvers you so that you're beside him, still repeating your mantra of "thank you, Sir". He looks you over but doesn't pick up on anything worrisome. "How's my Good Girl doing?"

"Thank you, Sir," you whimper. "Thank you for taking care of me."

He kisses along your cheeks where your tears are falling. "Such a Good Girl. But we're not done yet. Lay on your stomach."

As soon as you turn, Steve spreads your legs. "Such a pretty pussy," he groans. He kneads your ass cheeks for a bit before kissing up along your spine until he's covering you like a weighted blanket. He wraps one of his arms around so that he's got a hold on your throat. He kisses you once again before he roughly pushes his cock into you.

"Best pussy I've ever felt," he tells you as he starts up a brutal pace that has you keening. "Taking my cock like the good girl you are," he praises. "Taking everything I give you and begging for more."

"S--S--Sir," you croak.

"Cum for me," he orders. Your body automatically obeys. "That's my Good Girl," he groans as your pussy squeezes him tight. "Fucking you brain dead feels so good." You moan in response to his words. "You like being fucked like this? You like when my cock makes you dumb?"

"Y--Yes, Sir!"

He licks along the back of your neck, making you squeal. "I need one more from you." He readjusts you so you're slightly on your knees, making his cock feel so much deeper. He resumes the brutal pace and you start to see stars from the pleasure. "Cum for me, Good Girl."

Your body obliges and you cum with a lewd sob. He's quick to follow with a few grunts before he lets go of your throat and starts giving you small kisses along your back.

He pulls out of you with a soft hiss and immediately goes into aftercare mode. He removes your choker, cleans you up, and gives you reassurances as he holds you.

Finals are done. You've officially completed your degree. You opt to not go to the graduation ceremony, too many people. You've moved in with Steve, much to your parents' disbelief and outrage. They called you a lot of not very nice things that only reaffirmed your choice to get away from them.

One of Steve's friends at his art studio actually got you connected with a well paying job near the apartment. You were happy to finally be contributing financially. More importantly, Steve didn't object to you having your own bank account. Steve never wanted you to feel you had to be with him because of finances. He wanted you to have agency. It was something you'd probably spend forever getting used to.

Thankfully, Steve had the patience to help you out.

Okay, so this series is done, right? Barista Steve won't continue to bug me, right?!

Edit: Part 3/Series Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @ronearoundblindly

[ladyloveandjustice]

I want to expand on what I'm talking about. And I said a little bit extra in the comments:

There's just some posts that have been going around about how to solve the issue of men swinging real right in America right now,which does have an impact on society. some guy was saying he was attacted to the right bc they were all 'welcome brother' but in the left people resent him. I think it's just. It's easier to go to an idealogy that's like 'you're entitled to this' than an idealogy that says 'hey you're not entitled to everything but you could be more emotionally healthy and kinder to other people and". That's something simply being nice or making them feel good won't ever fully fix. The "rewards" for being in the right will always feel more immediate for white men.

It's not unique to men to feel alienated in an idealogy that wants you to challenge yourself. At the same time, more kindness to everyone, emphasis on acceptance, less volatile language toward each other, will help the community be stronger over all. it is a difficult conundrum, but I don't think it comes down to 'we don't make men feel special enough

It also ignores I think, that white men DO get rewarded in leftist spaces too. a lot. Men will get a ton of adoration for saying something vaguely feminist than if a woman says it a lot of the time, and so on a so forth, everyone loves a sweet guy...I think that's something that already happens.

But let's get back to volatile language:

We always say guilt isn't going to help anyone and it isn't about guilt. But I think we need to admit that no, we do try to make people feel guilty and ashamed a lot. And not framing it around that most of the time would do a lot.

I've seen posts straight up saying it's a bad thing to want to survive and live happy lives and take actions to do this because (x) bad thing is happening. You know, the most basic human instinct? And that's not going to win over people. You may not like that, but it's not.

I don't think that needs to center on women helping men feel special about themselves. A lot of us are asked to take care of men all the time and it's exhausting. Men on the left can focus on being more positive about the concept of manhood if they want, but asking women to do the work. is just....yeah that's just the patriarchy.

I do think examining things like black masculinity etc is great though. If you have another marginalized identity, it will intertwine with masculinity in very specific ways that will be used against you, just as it is with femininity or being outside both those concepts (yet the world assigns you one anyway). I totally get that masculinity is used as a weapon against both gay men and gay women, in different specific ways. And I think at least learning about that and supporting efforts to stop this makes one a better person.

On the other hand. it would be insane of me to ask a Black woman to make a Black man feel special and accepted for simply being a man if she doesn't want to do that. Like. absolutely wild.

And it's it's rarely about that, is it? When we say "celebrate men" it's not bringing any unique experience into it. It's about white men. They're the ones who make up most of the alt-right.

Communities in the right are not compassionate but because they offer some form of reward and companionship they can seem like that. As much as people are lured in by "welcome brother" or whatever, those same people will on the right will mock any person who steps outside the strict roles that have been set.

So....we need to abolish to same roles. I think we need to focus on how we talk to people. On supporting people when they're trying.

It also comes off in how we talk to each other about basically I can harshly tell someone who has privilege over me-- a white man or straight person ect ect-- their guilt about their privilege does nothing, I'm not interested in guilt and what we need is action. But let's be real. Telling someone "you benefit from a system that makes other people suffer" is going to make someone feel guilty. And yelling at someone for feeling guilty isn't going to make that better. I think we avoid saying the truth and say what's the core of it-- no, it's not your fault you were born a certain way and now you benefit from something. A society hundreds of years in the making made that happen. And that sucks, that you basically have no choice but to be complicit. And it sucks way, way more for the people who are kept down by that system. So we need to change society. We can do it together. It's not to "make up" for you existing. It's because we care about each other. I want this for all of us, because when we see each other as whole people and are treated equally, it benefits all of us.

This is a not a "men are uniquely punished by the left for being men, we need to celebrate masculinity, stop being so mean" thing. It's a human thing. It's about the way we talk to each other and try to weild guilt towards people in general. People want to feel good about themselves. They want some kind of acceptance. If you're constantly made to feel bad, it can be hard to want to stay. This is something everyone feels, because we all have a selfish instinct.

People don't like feeling guilty. That's just how people are. It's promoting compassion, rather than hatred and resentment, that's going to help us in the end.

But me simply saying that isn't going to change much. Humans feel hurt and lash out too. When horrible things are happening to us, we resent people that don't understand that or are part of that. The paradigm shift will be hard. Not everyone will be able to do it and I don't think that's wrong.

Everyone gets frustrated by a class of people where a lot of them have more power and try to push them down. Nobody wants to talk to someone that's trying to hurt them.

That's why it needs to be someone like me who could explain racism 101 rather than idk. making a person of color say 'well white people don't feel special and accepted for being white. poc we must be nicer. let's celebrate whiteness because the right does and that's why white people are drawn to it, they feel accepted." listen to how ridic that sounds. you are literally asking for a white history month. That's the same thing you're doing when you're talking about manhood like this. The onus is not on the discriminated group to reach out to those harming them. That's up to others in the community.

But as a broader thing...We just need to figure out what the end game is. Do we want to yell and guilt trip, or do we want more people in our corner? What's more important, the end goal or if someone knows all the right lingo or matches up to your opinions exactly? What do we need to rally around? How can we take care of each other? If we're kinder to the community, more people will follow.

Anyway this is the last time i'll say some big thing like this and tag it. I don't like doing this on tumblr for a reason.

[sadistic-kiss]

Use Me (Kinktober Fic)

Succubus Reader x Various JJK Men

.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.Chapter Seven.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.

“Watch and learn ladies and gents.” Toji spoke cockily as he hit the cue ball. It cracked loudly pingponging around. When all the commotion stopped, Fushiguro’s competitors released a loud groan. He grinned victoriously, only needing one more ball to win. Pool had always been an easy game for him to ace. Especially after Nanami showed him the keys to success.

“Alright Toj, Take us home.” His partner saluted him with his beer.

Toji picked up the chalk as he twisted the blue cube over the tip of the stick. That's when he heard the little chime of your bell. He glanced toward the crowd, looking for you. Were the peacocks done fanning out their feathers? Yet as his gaze surfed around he didn't see you or the others.

Perhaps it was his imagination.

“Come on man just take your shot!” the sore losers called in irritation.

Toji licked his lips with a seductive roll of his eyes, “I gotta make sure she's perfect for me.” he blew upon the tip and tossed the chalk to the side as he got into position. Bending at the hips he angled his shot perfectly. He heard the chime again, this time much louder, like you were right behind him. He looked back with furrowed brows. That time he was sure he heard the jingle, but once again you were nowhere to be found. This must be one of your little tricks. You were toying with him. Probably upset from earlier. He snorted before looking back. “Ngh-” his eyes widen seeing you on the table. Knees spread as you looked back at him with innocent-looking eyes. Yet what you were doing was far from innocent. You were dressed in a cute little doll outfit, one of his favorites with the blue bows and white knee-high socks. His cue stick was rubbing your frilly panties, splitting your cunt.

“You-” he grits his teeth as the blood immediately rushes to the lower parts of his body.

“Hm~daddy~ what are you doing?” you questioned with a sickeningly sweet voice. It echoed in his mind.

You weren't actually there. No one else could see you but him. Seriously? You were already able to make him hallucinate, and so vividly? Who the fuck gave you this much power? He gulped as everyone looked at him questioningly.  

“You good bro?” his samurai partner questioned.

“Fine.” he bit out with a little growl. He tried to focus, ignoring the illusion of you. He just had to make this one shot. He moved the stick back and you let out a little squeak-but fuck you were making this difficult. His jaw clenched hard as he moved the stick back and forth- he swears he was just readying for the shot- but it rubbed beautifully upon your cunt.

“Kyah~st-stop~” you cried.

He could barely swallow the saliva in his mouth. Eyeing how wet your panties were getting from his actions.

Fuck you look so-

‘HIT THE BALL!’ he yelled at himself internally.

*Smack!*

He hit the ball throwing himself away from the table knowing damn well he didn't make it.

“Bummer dude.” but his opponents made sure to twist the shameful blade.

He rolled his eyes to the crowd. Where the fuck were you! You were making him miss out on money! He listened and sniffed for his little pet. “You see our kitten around?” he asked his buddy while still searching.

“Hm? Oh, that cute thing? Naw haven't seen her.” The guy answered before crushing his beer. “You worried about her?”

“Yeah…” Toji lied. You were a powerful being. Even if you didn't think so they were all very much aware of how scary your potential was. He wasn't afraid for you. You can handle yourself. He looked toward the table with a little tick of his scared lip. He was afraid to LOSE HIS MONEY! Your illusion was no longer on the table so he could only hope you would shed him some mercy for his little joke from earlier.

You…didn’t take that personally right?

He rubbed the stick thoughtfully, wondering if he could feel the wetness upon it. Sadly he couldn't. What he saw wasn't real after all, but perhaps he would need to recreate that scenario when this stupid party was over.

He was elbowed back to reality. “Your go Toj.”

“Right.” he nodded stepping up to the table. He took a deep breath, getting ready-

*Ding~*

That damn chime again- this time it was under him. He glanced down before he could tell himself not to. You were on your knees, looking up at him, with fluttering lashes.

Not this time- he looked back up and nearly passed out. Your legs were spread in the splits, pussy glistening for his view. You were so wet it was dripping upon the table. You moaned, with the very ball he needed inside of you. You toyed with it with a teasing finger before it plopped out and rolled toward him, hitting his hand.

“Oh god-” he flinched. The stick barely tapped the ball but his opponents jumped and pointed.

“Ah! You hit it! That counts!”

“Are- are you fucking kidding?” Toji hissed eyes moved to them but quickly tried to find you. You were gone within a blink.

“Rules are rules!”

“I-s-something was in my eye!”

Everyone around burst into a fit of laughter, making the older man feel angrily embarrassed. However, the tinkle of your laugh was heard much louder. Right in his ear. He looked to see you were in the crowd giggling, but within the next flash of light, you were gone.

Your bell chimes like a haunting whisper.

You little…

Toji growled in irritation, taking the stick he snapped it over his knee making everyone shut up instantly.

“Where the fuck is my pet!” he barked while pushing into the crowd. If a cock is what you wanted then a cock is what he’s going to give you. All fifteen fucking inches!

~

You watch from the banister as Toji pushes into the crowd looking for you.

You released a little giggle at his frustrated expression.

Served him right.

You move in the opposite direction, content with allowing the beast to chase you.

You had quite the meal, you were much stronger now. So you saw the boy before he even grabbed you around your wrist, but you let him pull you into his room.

His lips were upon you as soon as your back hit the door.

“Yu?” you gasped with an excited smile.

“Hey, baby~” he grinned while kissing you.

“You were able to get away from Nanami?” you giggled as his lips moved over your neck.

“I maaaay have tricked him.” he released a boyish chuckle while lifting you. He carried you to his desk, sitting you in his black and white chair.

“Tricked him? Hm~” You place a finger upon his lips as you guide him to the floor. “…I just might be a bad influence just like they say.”

“No never!” Yu pouted sliding your panties down. “They just don't see you how I see you…” his cheeks blushed as he slipped your feet out of the fabric. “…If they did then they'd understand.”

You felt heat touch your heart as you smiled sweetly, you flicked your fingers making your boots disappear. “…and…” You breathed as Yu massaged your calf, placing kisses upon your leg like your very presence was a blessing bestowed upon his life. “…how do you see me?” you questioned pressing your foot into his crotch.

Yu sucked in a breath while rolling his eyes, “As…mm…the m-most beautiful queen who deserves to be praised.”

A flirty giggle left your lips. You roll your leg up as you place your foot on his desk. “Would you like… to please your queen?”

“Yes!” Yu barked out excitedly.

“Good boy.” Sliding your fingers into his brown hair, you bring him closer so that his face may nestle between your thighs.

He blushed madly, the scent of his precum filled your nose. You know Yu would rather be your pet than the other way around.

You let out a little cry, feeling his wet tongue touch you so delicately yet eagerly. He moaned bobbing his head slowly as he enjoyed his treat.

There was no use in holding your pleasure back, that would just be rude. You made sure to let him know how pleased you were. Praising him and whispering sweet nothings. His hands grabbed your thighs, spreading you wider for his wicked tongue.

Your eyes rolled as your orgasm shocked your core. “Ah~! Yuuu~!” you whine while gripping on him tightly.

“Hm~!” Haibara groaned in pleasure as you squirt on his tongue. He smiled with pride, licking his lips. “I think…hm… that's the fastest I've made you cum…” he grinned but then he got wobbly as he fell backward under his desk.

“Ai!” You let out a gasp, cupping his face. “Are you okay?” Unfortunately, even your juices will drain him of his curse energy.

“Y-yeah… just give me a minute.” He smiled with droopy lids.

“I-”

“Yu!” You heard the blonde callout.

Oh fuck.

“Are you in here…” Nanami opened the door as his gaze rested on you, who was now sitting upright at Yu’s desk with your chin resting on your fist.

Well well well…if it wasn't the certified cockblocker.

.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.Chapter Eight.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.

(Coming Soon)

[swanhild]

I agree with the person who said that Curufin had the exact same potential to do great things as his father and his son, but at first he was too wrapped up in Feanor/too focused on pleasing him to really branch out on his own and then the oath and subsequent war against Morgoth happened and he shifted all his mental focus and energy towards developing weaponry and armor and so on. Something he was good at, but didn't find particularly mentally stimulating or enjoyable. In my post-canon headcanons/fic that I dream of writing one day Curufin will be the one to eventually invent photography, however. A huge hit with the wider populace of Valinor who don't necessarily have Finwean-style money to have portraits of their babies or weddings done by a professional painter.

He also learns to detangle his existence from Feanor's post-canon (I headcanon he gets released from the Halls before Feanor does) and goes through some personal growth. He also manages to repair his relationships with Celebrimbor and Finrod during that time and grows closer to Nerdanel. He and Celebrimbor actually start collaborating on a whole bunch of projects together and the two of them are directly or partly responsibly for a lot of technologial innovations and revolutions in post-canon Valinor (I mean sure, Curufin is #problematic, but the things he comes up with are just too good/tempting to ignore. And Celebrimbor is okay in most people's books anyway, so...)

I personally am a Curufinrod shipper, but whether platonically or romantically, I think Curufin has a lot of strong feelings about Finrod, most of them quite overwhelming and difficult to deal with for him. And his tried and true method for dealing with such feelings is repressing them. Until he can't anymore and things get crazy. But anyway, one of the more straightforward and normal feelings he has towards Finrod is gratefulness for taking care of Tyelpe after he was re-embodied. I headcanon that Celebrimbor was re-embodied before Curufin and was and still rather unwell by that point, which caused Curufin a lot of worry. Celebrimbor canonically loves Finrod and I think the feeling is mutual (Finrod thinks of him as a son, in a way), so I feel it makes sense for Finrod to be there for Celebrimbor during that time period.

He's a disaster bisexual with internalised homophobia and everything else @gardensofthemoon mentioned on that subject.

He used to have a crush on Aredhel when he was a kid/teen and is still very fond of her.

He secretly craves affection and attention though under normal cicumstances he'd rather bite off his tongue than admit that out loud (or even to himself most of the time). Luckily for him, I headcanon Celegorm as being quite affectionate with the people he loves (in a very casual, easy-going, dude bro-y sort of way: he will slap people on the back, casually drop his arm around them and/or pull them into hugs, ruffle his younger brothers' hair etc.) Curufin will act annoyed with Celegorm when he does these kinds of things, but really, he doesn't mind at all. (In time, Curufin does get better at expressing his wants and needs though, and other people, like Finrod, also begin to understand this about him, so it all works out in the end.)

He's actually rather conflict-averse and tends to avoid direct confrontation in favor of scheming and manipulating his way through life. Direct confrontation rarely goes well for him when he does try, so he leaves that kind of thing Celegorm for the most part. (Another avantage of having Celegorm around. And Celegorm doesn't mind fighting some of Curufin's battles for him).

The siblings he has the most difficult relationships with are Maedhros and Caranthir: When he was younger Curufin felt somewhat resentful and jealous towards Maedhros for being the firstborn son (it should have been him, obviously). He claims Maedhros is doing a terrible job of being their father's heir by frequently going against Feanor or what Feanor would have wanted. A part of him admires Maedhros for being able to stand up to their father and following his own mind, but another part of him is just about self-aware enough to realize that this makes Maedhros more similar to Feanor than Curufin could ever be and resents Maedhros even more for it. He also can't help but feel that Maedhros can read him like an open book (which is true) and in his most paranoid moments Curufin is convinced that Maedhros thinks him pathetic and all kinds of other things he secretly fears about himself. Caranthir can also see right through Curufin, but unlike Maedhros, he doesn't mince his words and very bluntly says what he thinks of Curufin or his actions right to his face. Caranthir is also very close in age to Curufin and doesn't really have Maedhros' older brother instinct of "must protect my little sibling and be nice to him even when he's being a terrible brat". This means that Caranthir can and will say things that cut Curufin right to the core (and which will keep him awake at night because he can't stop thinking about them.)

He is what would nowadays be called neurodivergent (like most of his family) and has a bunch of very specific hyperfixations and interests that only very few people can relate to.

He also suffers from anxiety (something he has in common with Maedhros) and used to bite his nails when he was younger. He still does it sometimes, but he thinks it's a shameful habit and tries very hard not to.

He loves Celebrimbor above all else and genuinely tried his best as a parent (although he didn't always succeed and failed quite badly a couple of times). But particularly when Celebrimbor was younger? I really think he was a pretty involved and good father to him. Also is super proud of Celebrimbor (and Celebrimbor outdoing him bothers him much less than he himself being unable to live up to Feanor).

He usually calls people he loves by their mother names (incl. Celegorm, Celebrimbor and Finrod), but he himself doesn't like being called Atarinke. Most people he's close with just call him Curvo.

He's quite a picky eater and somewhat embarrassed by that as well (it's immature and childish in his mind), but he just can't bring himself to eat certain things.

I also agree with the people who mentioned him enjoying mathematics (he and Celebrimbor like poring over difficult math problems together in my mind), that dark blues and greens look much better on him than Feanorian red, that he's deeply insecure, that he's a night owl (he'll often stay up all night and sleep during the most random hours of the day) and that he speaks in a soft tone of voice.

Hey fellow people who presumably enjoy curufin. Can you reblog with some curufin hcs? I think we truly need more Curufin Attention (either positive or negative but if you hate him why are you even here) in this fandom and I will be the change the world desperately needs. Cheers

[orangepeelshortbreadcookies]

Unpopular Opinion: It could be good that the Crabtrees not show up in the show

Allow me to make my case in bullet points:

I understand their comic relief role in the book. However, I don't believe their brand of comedy is necessary in the show. Why? Because we already have Luke Thompson, the comedic genius, that's why. Let him do his thing.

There are ENOUGH characters. We don't need to conjure yet another storyline vying for attention within the already crammed 8 episodes. It's better, to me at least, to enhance the intimacy at My Cottage instead of watering it down.

Their absence would give Benophie the whole house to themselves. More Benophie screentime, them be alone together, unchaperoned, which is what we want. Sophie will be allowed, for the first time in her life, a place where she can breathe, relax and just be herself, without anyone reminding her to remember her station. It would strengthen her attachment to My Cottage, how quickly she can find herself at home there. And without a moderator to uphold the status quo, it would just be so much harder for both Benedict and Sophie to maintain behind their class barriers.

No Mrs. Crabtree means no woman's clothes, meaning Sophie would have no choice but to walk around My Cottage drowning in Benedict's baggy shirtsleeves and trousers. The entire time. Admittedly, this one is for me personally, but I don't think I need to elaborate on the delicious potential this would bring.

That speech Sophie gave Mrs. Crabtree about being unsure of her standing in the world and her insights into social conventions? Let her give that to BENEDICT. Let him process that. Let him grapple with learning this astute observation from her and how to reconcile it with his growing attraction to Sophie. Let him spiral. Now why wouldn't you want to see Benedict spiral?

Benedict has the opportunity to become the Bridgerton who knows how to operate a stove. Sophie teaches him how to brew his own tea. He eagerly aids her as she cooks, carefully collecting the bits and pieces that she reveals about herself. He makes her laugh with his earnest novice behaviour. The first time he touches her chin (he does that a lot in AOFAG, it's insane how cute that is), is to wipe away a smudge of soot or flour that lingers on her skin, etc...

The casual comfort and intimacy at My Cottage would give way to whiplash effect with sharper contrast when they return to haughty Mayfair without the presence of another downstairs-couple beforehand to soften the blow. The constraints of high society descending upon them literally the second they set foot in the city, customs both know they're required to acquiesce yet neither can bear to comply. The harsh realisation of their class disparity being brought into painfully glaring focus, visually. Can you just taste the angst??

In conclusion, if the Crabtrees are already cast, it'd be fine. But if they aren't, I'd prefer the show keep it that way

[burningcheese-merchant]

Abt burning spice's kingdom interaction with nutmeg tiger when he says "this place it reminds me of the first kingdom i..." do you think he destroyed that kingdom? Or built it?

The fact that he shows regret and hesitation in that line is interesting...

Do you think he became what he is because he doesn't have anything left to lose?

This can perfectly foils Golden cheese's story, even after her kingdom got destroyed she eventually embraces that fact and process that emotions healthily

Sorry im just yapping here, i love me two character that perfectly foils each other while being more similiar than enyone else and form a weird ahh relationship balancing between romantic or wanting to kill each other

-🌾anon

I'm going to go ahead and say both. I think he built it AND destroyed it. In fact, I'm going to go a step further and specify that he accidentally destroyed it while trying to defend it from some invading force, thus making this the first real step down that dark path. Think of it: in a mad frenzy to protect something he loved, he destroyed it instead. He unwittingly became what he was fighting against, if only for a moment - and that moment would set many things in motion, each more terrible than the last, for not only has Burning Spice now come to truly know the bitter taste of loss and history's seemingly futile nature, it came to him in perhaps the worst way possible, and so left the most lasting impression. (Idk if what I tried to cook here came out of the oven right, but there was an attempt lol)

I 100% agree with the idea that Spice became who and what he is after succumbing to despair in the face of seemingly unending loss (I go into detail about it here, this is how I personally headcanon his descent into villainy), and that there is still a lingering sense of regret somewhere inside of his heart, even if small and not strong enough to influence him anymore. That dialogue he has with Nutmeg Tiger is what pushed me to want to analyze him and construct a possible background and motive for him, and later what inspired me to want to redeem not only him, but all five of the Beasts. The fact that he might have regrets is very interesting and very promising to me, and lends itself to the idea that, with time and the right guidance, he could perhaps... change (to keep with the theme haha).

And I also agree with you on him and Golden Cheese being perfect foils for one another (it's part of why I ship them so hard lol). They mirror each other SO well in my eyes. And in the face of the same exact loss, one folded while the other stood strong (although you can say that GC folded as well, at least for a while, before she realized the folly in her delusional grief and collected herself). Nothing lasts forever, that's true, but that doesn't make it meaningless - quite the opposite. It is the ephemeral nature of life that makes it beautiful and worthwhile. It's alright to be upset when something ends, but you can't let that define you. Everything ends eventually. Focus less on what's far ahead or what's far behind and focus more on what's in front of you right now. That's the lesson GC more or less learns, and it's the lesson BS needs to learn too, in my opinion. And I honestly think GC is the right one to help teach him that.

Sorry, I sort of spoiled the "Change" arc in my Reformed Beasts AU a little bit here lol. You really hit the nail on the head with your thoughts here and it prompted me to puke this word salad. Great minds lol

[aviiarie]

found family with Giyuu and his tsuguko (platonic ofc). like, imagine eating together, or helping each other with little things (like brushing hair or sharpening swords for the other) or protecting each other in fights.

˚ ₊ ‧ ♡ EVERY BREATH; EVERY HEARTBEAT — platonic giyuu & reader !

synopsis. moments with giyuu and his tsuguko. warnings. kny-typical violence. manga spoilers. notes. PLATONIC. reader uses water breathing. gn!reader. headcanons. found family. 1.1k words. i'm so sorry for how late this request is. i went with a headcanon format, i hope you enjoy <33

Giyuu had high expectations of them. He made that very clear from the beginning; if they were to be the next water hashira, they needed to be strong, capable. They needed to be able to match him in skill—and eventually, exceed him.

It's lucky for him that his tsuguko was a quick learner.

“Don't slouch,” Giyuu's face remains expressionless, but there was a slight pinch between his eyebrows that betrayed a barely hidden frown. “Keep your back straight, and your feet shoulder-width apart. If your weight isn't evenly distributed, you'll be knocked over as soon as you swing your sword.”

They quickly adjust their stance, gripping the hilt of their sword tightly. Their feet shift, one pointed forward and the other angled outward, with their body positioned in a slight crouch.

“Better.” Giyuu nod. “In an actual fight, you won't have time to focus on keeping your posture correct. You need to be able to rely on muscle memory, to fall into a fighting stance without even thinking about it.”

“How do I do that?” They ask, still frozen in where they stood. Their arm was beginning to ache from holding up their sword for so long, so they lower it to their side.

“You will learn.” He says simply. “Don't put down the sword just yet. We're not quite done.”

He's patient with his student, but is still as strict on them as he has to be. The last thing he wants is to go too soft on them, because he knows just how dangerous their profession is.

When they're out on missions together, he's very protective. Of course, he lets them fight—they're a capable Demon Slayer, after all—but the second he sees that they're starting to struggle, he steps in and kills the demon before they can blink.

It's just instinct. He'll hang back to let them prove their skills, but when they're hit with a particularly painful blow, his body moves on its own accord. He can't risk losing someone else, not to another demon.

Rather than going to the butterfly house for every injury, Giyuu is most often the one to help patch them up after fights. He isn't as skilled in medical treatment, but he has enough knowledge and is twice as gentle as Shinobu is, so he's their first choice.

While he's cleaning and bandaging their cuts and scrapes, he lets them squeeze his arm as tightly as they need to. He doesn't even complain when their nails dig into his skin.

Afterwards, he'll cook meal for them both—their favourite, if he's able to make it. they eat together, in a comfortable quiet. He's never been much for talk during meals, but he enjoys the company greatly.

For their first few meals together, neither said anything at all. But after a while, after they started to become more comfortable with each other, soon their silence started to be filled with something more.

“Why did you become a Demon Slayer?” The question makes Giyuu falter for a moment. His chopsticks, still raised to his lips, were slowly lowered away from his face.

“Why did I become a Demon Slayer?” He echos the question, making sure he heard them correctly. They nodded, and he sighed. “For no happy reasons.”

They're quiet for a moment, staring down at their food. “...I guess I can say the same.”

“It's quite a popular answer, among Slayers.” Giyuu says bluntly, returning to eating.

Maybe one day, he'll be able to properly explain the story to them without breaking his impassive facade, but even the slight memory is enough to force cracks into his blank expression. He focuses on the food in front of him, inhaling the rich smell and pushing away the clouding thoughts in his mind.

“What would you do if you weren't a Demon Slayer?” The second question almost makes him choke on his mouthful of food.

“Does it matter?” He swallows, staring at them blankly.

“No,” They shrug, not meeting his eye. “Just curious, I guess.”

Conversations were tentative at first, but he slowly opens up to them. They talk about their lives, before and after becoming Demon Slayers. Soon they move to trivial matters as well, favourite colours and favourite foods, random memories and amusing stories.

Then, it's the small moments between fighting and training. Giyuu helps them by sharpening their sword, and they help him with cleaning his after a mission. It all becomes a routine, and they fit into his life like they were always there, as if they've been a part of his family all along.

While he only intended to take on a tsuguko to train a successor, he ends up growing very fond of them. It becomes harder for him to send them out on missions, even they've grown strong enough to be able to fight on their own.

It's during the final battle that his sudden protectiveness towards them is tested, as he is forced to watch them almost die in the fight against Upper Moon Three.

For a moment, Giyuu's heart stops beating. He watches, paralyzed, as the demon—Upper Moon Three, the fourth strongest demon in the world—turns his attention towards his tsuguko. Their sword is raised in defense, lips parted to spit out the words that he taught them.

“Third Form—” The cry is cut off, as a fist is slammed into their stomach with enough force to tear through their skin and leave a mess of blood in its wake.

“Giyuu!” Their scream feels as heavy as the wounds weighing Giyuu down, but he doesn't stop; not even for a moment. He lunges forward, swinging his blade.

“Second Form, Water Wheel!” Giyuu yells, slashing the sword across the demon's shoulder and slicing his arm clean off. The attack distracts him long enough for [Name] to stumble back and away, pressing against the wound on their stomach to staunch the bleeding.

If there was any reason to keep fighting, even when weariness claws at his lungs and presses tightly against his chest, it was to stop the demons from taking anyone else. Tanjiro is ready beside him, and the grip on his sword is tight.

“Water Breathing, Tenth Form: Constant Flux!”

The aftermath is heavy on them both, but they aren't alone. Together, they begin to rebuild their lives in the wreckage of the Demon Slayer Corps, forging a new future for themselves. And no matter where that future takes them, Giyuu will be there to support them.

They aren't alone. No matter how many people who have been lost, they aren't alone, and as long as he is still alive, he will make sure they never will be.

Family is a difficult subject for Giyuu, but in them, that is exactly what he finds.

🏷️ taglist: @mollzaj, @mitsvriii, @an-angstyteen

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai

[fanofthings20]

Favorite Meal Prep

Agatha Harkness x reader (romantic fluff)

Anonymous asked: Heeey! I was wondering if you could write one Agatha Harkness x Reader (romantic relationship) Reader learns to cook Agatha’s favorite meal Fluff <3

You were up before Agatha. You had always been an early riser, so it wasn't surprising to her when she woke up to your side of the empty bed and the smell of coffee brewing. Before she met you, her meals normally consisted of magicking them because it was easier than manually doing it, given her habit of being on the run. You weren’t the most skilled in the kitchen mind you given your past experiences of accidental arson calls. But you could manage the basic quick and easy meals without a fire extinguisher needed on the counter by the stove.

You were busy fixing scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast when she entered the kitchen stopping to leaning against the doorway. Over the last two years, your ability to keep your focus on cooking has improved so there is less risk of any more close calls. But there are still times when she thinks back to the start of this relationship when she could distract you.

It was the first night you had stayed over at her place, you were up before her intending to fix her breakfast before she had to leave for work. She took a shower before going downstairs to join you and purposefully forgot to put anything on under and left the robe untied. She enjoyed getting you flustered and mesmerized. It had been about two months of officially dating when she did this to you. After the one-month mark, she came clean and told you about everything, that she was a witch, had lived through 350 years, her last relationship that had been over for a century, and finally about her son that she had lost.

It took you a little bit of time to fully comprehend how long she had been around for but nothing else phased you. Because you loved her so much that if she had told you she was a felon you still would pick her. It never failed to make her smile and chuckle to this day even two years later when she remembers how flustered you became when you turned around and witnessed her lack of clothing. It still catches her off guard with how much love and admiration you held in your eyes when you saw her then and in the present.

Nicky’s birthday was coming up in about two days. It was always a rough day for her given she was remembering all the good times with him while also mourning his loss. She typically stays in the house all day staring at the room she dedicated to him. You were always super supportive of her around that time even though you couldn’t understand what she was fully going through. Normally you would drop off enough food to get her through the day and stare at your phone to see if she texted or called needing you.

But this year she made it clear to you that she wanted you to stay in the house with her this year. This gave you the idea that you could try to make her favorite meal that she has mentioned those select times she could talk about the happy moments with Nicky. It took an awful lot of research in the local library and some rabbit hole searches on the internet to find as semi-close to the original recipes that she would have used back then to make their favorite meal.

It definitely would have been easier to ask Agatha for a quicker reference in the recipe but there were no possible questions that wouldn’t raise her suspicions and ruin the wholesome surprise.

You had been pulling about two weeks of late nights trying to perfect this surprise for her. On some nights you would use the excuse of having to work late after dinner since you worked from home so you could get back to your kitchen. Other nights you would be staying at her place you would go to bed with her and stay till you were sure she was asleep then sneak out to look on your laptop for recipes and tips.

The last thing you wanted to do was under or over-cook this meal and risk getting her sick. It had taken most of your paycheck, a lot of error trials, and burns on your arms. But two nights before you were going to make it for her you finally felt comfortable in your ability to follow the recipe and that it tasted fully cooked to you which wasn’t saying much since you never had it before.

Agatha’s favorite meal consisted of Thirded Bread, Cod Chowder, Boston Baked Beans, and Red Flannel Hash. Sadly Agatha was called away to help Teen with some magic lesson but it gave you plenty of time to fully prep the meal since it would take a few hours to make each piece. It was always entertaining to see Agatha grumble and sass about Teen but you could tell she only did it because she cared for the kid. Before she left the house she pulled you in for a savory kiss promising she would be back when she could.

You weren’t a witch so everything was manual method. You had stashed all the necessary pots in your car and after waiting fifteen minutes to ensure she wouldn’t come back. It was time to unload the pots and dig the supplies out of Agatha’s fridge which she hardly ever looked in there so that was an easy feat. The meal prep started with the chowder and hash since they were the biggest items with longer cooking times than the bread and beans.

It took roughly six to eight hours of cooking for the food to be ready. Thankfully you managed to make it through cooking without cutting anything besides the food and only some minor burns on your wrist from mishandling one of the pots. It was almost sunset when you managed to have the table set up in the dining room. The kitchen was clean and the pots were stashed in your car. It wasn’t meant to be a romantic setting striving more for a nostalgic and comfy setting to provide what you hoped would be a family-originated meal.

Even though you had never met Nicky, you greatly respected him and what he provided for Agatha even after all these years so this felt like you were trying to bring him in a sense for her. If the bugs weren’t so bad you would have taken her out to the woods in picnic style. Since that couldn’t be done you had almost bought the entire town candle store’s stock and had the main entrance to the dining room covered in candlelight to provide the closest outdoor setting you could.

It was after dark when Teen dropped Agatha back at her house before going home. Agatha wouldn’t openly admit it but she loved the kid and he had grown on her so it was nice to be a mentor to him. She was ready to see you again she would never move on or replace her precious Nicky. But you offered her a safe, caring supportive relationship which is what she desperately needed tonight.

She never expected to see the house dark with a clear pathway light by candles when she opened the door, nor her favorite music lightly playing. She carefully took her jacket and shoes off before following the path into the dining room. It was filled with candle light and a full meal on the table. What really caught her eye was seeing you standing there in a suit/dress with purple roses in your hand.

It amazed her that you did all of this for her, it's not that you haven’t before but she never felt like she deserved such treatment. Before she could get closer you went on a little speech “I know what tomorrow means for you darlin, I thought tonight we could celebrate Nicholas with the classic favorite meal. If I could I’d trade places with him so you could have him back even if I could only manage to give you one night in a heartbeat so you could have the life you both overly deserve.”

Agatha had silent tears running down her face when she glanced at the table to see what the meal consisted of, she had never been the best with emotions. She rushed over to you careful not to squish the roses carefully grabbing your face and kissing you gently trying to show her overwhelming gratitude and love. She carefully stepped back when the need for air arose still gently rubbing her thumb over your cheeks.

You were giving her the full treatment tonight pulling out her chair, filling her plate, and pouring her favorite wine. You were nervous awaiting her reaction to the food. But Agatha loved the entire meal and for the first time since she lost Nicky, she had a great night and time celebrating him. She shared stories of their adventures and that he would probably have loved being around you.

After the meal and clean up was done. Agatha dragged you upstairs for a relaxing bath together before you both ended up in the bed for cuddles and swapping cute family fluff stories.

To the Anonymus requester: I hope you enjoy this, I gave it my best. If you don't like it feel free to tell me. I'm always open to criticism and will gladly rewrite it if wanted.

Thank you to @hannah-0730 & @breadisrawtoast for your takes on what Agatha’s favorite meal might be. I greatly appreciate both of you and your inspiration for finding the video.

The video link below is the meal preference that was chosen for this fic.

[cannibal-wings]

So... that all happened.

In an effort not to drown in current events, here's some WIP Wed for You Pay the Cost. This is all extremely rough. And I'm talking extremely here. A lot of this will get changed as I finish out the scene and edit it. I just wanted to share something. Gotta head to work now, but enjoy.

Leon was the last one to go through the door, he ducked under the frame and moved his tail all the way inside before closing the door behind him. He watched Luis set a small backpack down on the couch and begin to go through it.

“You ok?” Ashley asked him. She caught the way he seemed to hover uncomfortably near the door.

“Yeah,” he said, “I’m good.” Neither of them were sure if that was the truth. He stepped a bit further into the room and shrugged his rifle and shotgun off his back. Leon didn’t really know what to do with himself.

Luckily Luis saved him the trouble by turning his attention to him. “Ok,” he started with, “lets give you a quick lookover, Big Guy.”

Leon raised an eyebrow and rubbed his two bottom pedipalps together. “A lookover? For what?”

Luis stepped closer to him and said, “Your product line has a high failure rate, as far as mutations go.”

“Product line?” Leon frowned and stepped back.

Ashley asked, “So you know what he is?”

“Well, now that I’ve seen the full mutation, yes. I had a guess before, but seeing the whole thing in front of me, there’s only one product type it could be. Verdugo.”

“Ver-what now?”

“It means executioner, but I think a more fitting title should have “Guardian” or “Protector” even “Body Guard” would have gotten the product’s purpose through more clearly.” Luis closed the gap between himself and Leon once more. “They were created to be soldiers but Saddler quickly abandoned that idea after learning their abysmal survival rate through production. The research teams shifted focus and fine tuned the serum, more survived but not in the numbers he was looking for. Instead of scrapping the project, it was re-pitched as a line of personal body guards.”

Leon ignored most of that. “So you think I’m going to die?”

Luis shook his head. “Most likely not. You survived the mutation process, but I’d like to double check.” He reached up for Leon’s face and said, “Bend down for me, ok?” When Leon hesitated he added, “It’s best we get this done now, yeah?” Leon relented and Luis reached up to touch the outer jaws. Instantly Leon flinched back away. “Leon,” he said more sternly, “don’t be difficult.”

“I just- is this really necessary?”

“Yes. Now stop being a baby.” This time when he reached for Leon’s mandibles he was less gentle. He pulled him back down and opened them up. “I must remind you, my lab did not work on the Verdugo line, I was primarily a special variant Plaga researcher. However, they made us all sit through the presentations of the other labs, so I know just enough to get you sorted.” Leon kept trying to pull away from his touch, no doubt partly on instinct and partly due to being uncomfortable. And while Luis could sympathize with him, he still needed to check him over. “You mutated quickly and aggressively. The process normally takes a week, sometimes more, and is done in stages, induced with serum injections in increasing doses. Now this,” he manipulated the mandible in his hand, “this isn’t the correct outer jaw that goes with this body plan.”

“Yeah?” Leon wanted to yank it free but he let Luis continue. The other man ran his hand along the inside of it, feeling for something. It was uncomfortable, Leon felt the tip of his tail twitch. “What’s it go to then?”

“Las Plagas,” Luis said bluntly. “I think something interesting happened with you. The Plaga can also cause mutations to the host. The drone types have predictable mutations that follow their life stages. The controller Plaga often have more unique mutations, suited to the individual host. These can be triggered at will or in a life or death situation. Sometimes due to stress as well, or as a trigger from another, stronger Plaga.”

“So you think the Plaga was also trying to make me into a monster?”

“Yes,” he said. “But it got overridden by the Verdugo mutagen. The jaws and extra arms are not from the Verdugo mutagen. If I had to guess, they are from the Plaga.”

“But he’s done now, right?” Ashley asked. “No more changes?”

“Theoretically, yes, but-”

“There’s always a but,” Leon said with an eyeroll.

“But until we get the Plaga out of you, it could try to mutate your Verdugo form. Unlikely, since this is such a strong mutation, but it could happen.” Luis finished feeling around one side of Leon’s jaw and moved to the other. “Are you in any pain? From the mutation? Anything still hurt?” Leon shook his head. Luis finished pushing on Leon’s jaw lining. Nothing felt inflamed or swollen. “You don’t appear to have venom sacs, I don’t know if you’d consider that good news or not.”

“Wait, I could have had venom sacs?”

“Yeah, the Plaga with this face type can sometimes develop a venomous bite. You’d have a gland back here,” Luis reached in again with his hand and pressed just under his ear, where the skin of the outer jaws fused with his human skin. “But I don’t feel anything. It’s possible it’ll develop later.” He turned his attention to the large fangs at the end of each mandible. “I doubt it though, I don’t see a hole in your fangs for the venom to leave through. In any case, if you feel swelling here,” he pressed again, “or here,” and did the same with his other hand, but on his neck this time, under the human jaws, “it might be the gland coming in. It won’t affect the remains of your human jaws, or at least it shouldn’t, and your spit won’t be venomous. But your outer jaws could deliver a toxin strong enough to bring down an elephant. So exercise caution.”

“Great,” he said unenthusiastically. “What about,” Leon almost hesitated to ask, but he knew if he didn’t do so now, he might never get the chance. “What about acid? The ones I’ve come across can vomit acid.”

“Ooooh, that’s a tough one my friend. That organ is internal and I’d have to open you up to see if its in there. Your cousin species, the Novistadores have acid as well, but your species isn’t often engineered with it.” Luis moved away from Leon’s face and began to run his hands along the various plating on his chest. “I wouldn’t worry about, if you develop it, it’ll be because of the Plaga.”

“And the only way to know would be to open me up and check?”

“Yes.” Luis pressed on one of the plates that sat just below where his diaphragm would be. “Does this hurt when you breath in?” He could feel Leon expand his lungs and his ribcage moved under the carapace.

“No.”

“Good, good. Some issues that were reported with this line had to do with lung capacity and the ability to breath uninterrupted by the carapace.” He continued to move his hands down to his stomach. “Have you had any bowel movements?”

“No. Haven’t really had time.”

“You eaten anything recently?” Leon didn’t want to answer. He clamped his jaws to his face and looked at Ashley. “Leon?” When he looked up it was clear that the question had made him uncomfortable.

Ashley said instead, “Remember when I called you? And I said Leon wasn’t acting like himself?” Luis looked to her then back at Leon and nodded. “Well, when he wasn’t… himself,” she settled on, “he had eaten some of the cultists.”

“Oh.” Luis looked again to Leon who wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I see.” The blood around his jaws had been a giveaway, but he thought that maybe he had only used them in self-defense. “While I wouldn’t suggest your diet become comprised of human flesh, I will say that your guts are designed to process raw foods. Vegetables, fruit, and yes, meat. So eating them won’t have any negative consequences on your health.”

“I’m a fucking monster,” Leon said quietly.

Luis dismissed that with, “You were doing what you were designed to do. Protect Ashley no matter the cost.” When Leon looked at him with an eyebrow raised, he said, “It’s pretty obvious that its her you’re being made to protect. I don’t know if Saddler had you imprinted or if you did that all on your own.”

Ashley asked, “Wait, imprinted? Like with baby animals?”

“Perhaps that was the wrong word, “paired” might have been better. You see the Verdugo line, like I said before, was shifted to become a guardian type weapon. The first few iterations were not biologically bound to the one they were supposed to protect.”

“And now they are?” she asked again.

Luis nodded. “We have two ways of doing it, both involve the use of a Plaga. It’s clear that Leon has a Plaga inside him,” he said and turned over Leon’s arm to show off the dark veins that were still visible in the gaps between his carapace. “Sometimes both parties are infected with a custom made set of paired Plaga, this, along with picking a person close to the one needing the protection, insures the best results post mutation. If the client has the money and Saddler decides they’re worthy, the client will receive a custom Controller Type Plaga. Then it doesn’t matter as much which Verdugo is shipped to them, if it carries a normal Plaga the client will have no issues with commands or its loyalty.”

“And Saddler would do that? Just give someone a Controller Plaga?” Leon snorted. “Doesn’t that seem a little dangerous?”

“No, it’s actually a benefit to him as well. You see his end goal is to control the world with Las Plagas. The more people he infects the better, and if these folks are eager to do so willingly…” Luis trailed off. “It’s not a safety concern for him because Saddler’s Plaga is the strongest we’ve seen. He wouldn’t give out something that could usurp him to some random militant group.”

Luis put a hand on Leon’s back and started to lift and check the various plates. “You have a Plaga but Ashley doesn’t,” he was focused on Leon and didn’t catch the way that she froze up, “but you’ve clearly already paired yourself to her. Your body language gives it away, I’m sure you feel it as well?” Leon nodded. “The instincts that come with the mutation are strong. Incredibly strong. New Verdguo if not previously paired will pair themselves with someone eventually. We normally keep them in solitary until a client buys one for that reason alone. The pre-paired ones are obviously made to order.”  Luis continued, “Once the bond is made its made for life. It cannot be paired again. Of course, that doesn’t mean it can’t serve another, but the biological connection? That’s a one and done deal.”

Leon looked at Ashley who was staring back at him. “What does that mean?” he asked. “For me?”

“Well, you might be switching careers friend. Being separated from the one you’re paired with for long distances and durations will cause immense feelings of anxiety and sometimes violence, if you aren’t brought back together.” Luis asked, “Can you bend forward for me? Like you’re going to touch the ground?”

Without giving it much thought Leon leaned forward and dropped his hands to the floor and stretched. “So that’s it? I’m fucked?”

“Oh I wouldn’t go that far friend. You have options. Control over yourself will come with age. Some of our Verdugo on the market have been around for a couple of years now. They settle pretty easily, at least, that’s what I gather from the reports I’ve read.”

“I’m sorry,” Ashley said, “Leon I’m sorry. I didn’t know this would happen.”

“Neither of us did, not your fault.”

“On the bright side,” Luis said, stepping away, “you are built wonderfully. I’ve never seen such an exceptional specimen. Your body seems to have adapted perfectly to the mutagen, nothing is out of place. Full range of motion, carapace that has a bit of give, everything slots perfectly together, honestly, a perfect example of your species. If the Plaga hadn’t don’t a couple of its own mutations you’d be exemplary.”

“Please,” Leon winced, “please stop talking about me like I’m a product.” He stood back up to his full height.

“My apologies, Leon, but you are. Best shore up with that now instead of later.”

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲

So interested to read that story 😊

Thank you so much! 135 or 1k for 🌲 - whatever I reach first!

---

But this? This isn’t like that. There’s no walking this back with patience or determination. The hearing he has lost cannot be recovered. There’s nothing Buck can do. He just has to learn to accept it and move forward.  

Right now, he doesn’t know how to do that. He doesn’t even know where to begin. 

At least he can keep his job. That’s at the forefront of his mind. He’s not really sure how he’d be stomaching any of this if that was off the table. That was the big fear with his leg, and while he’s done a lot of work to extricate his self-worth from his career, it still makes it easier that he doesn’t have to weigh those two things against each other now. 

Buck practices calming breathing on his drive home from the appointment. He needs to not freak out right now. Especially not while he’s driving. 

You are fine, he tells himself, repeating it like a mantra. You’re healthy. You will not lose your job. You have steps to move forward. He lets this loop until he gets home. Then, he enters the quiet of his loft and sort of freezes.

There is a kind of stillness to receiving news you didn’t want to hear. Like an obstacle hits smack in the middle of your course, and everything is brought to a halt. Buck feels that stillness now. He sits on his couch and just… Ceases to operate. He breathes. He feels his heartbeat. He tries to listen to a million little sounds in his apartment, wondering if there are more that he’s missing. 

There must be. That’s what he realizes. There must be

Suddenly feeling the need to squirm, Buck reaches for the television remote and turns on the TV. News highlights are looping. He doesn’t actually care what it is. He just needs something consistently noisy at a comfortable volume that he can focus on. 

Buck tries to relax, listening to the steady voice of the newscaster.

“In a shocking turn of events, a second body of an American citizen has been found outside Katrineholm, Sweden. Arizona resident William Orson was reported missing by family members weeks ago, only to be uncovered by Swedish police. Details on cause of death have not been released.”

“What the fuck?” Buck mutters. Too dark right now. He’s usually interested in true crime and news stories - thank you, Taylor, for that fleeting hyperfixation - but right now, he needs something lighter. He switches channels to a home renovation show. Perfect. 

Buck watches until he feels numb. 

🍂

Eventually, he does know  he needs to talk to someone. Maddie might be his natural first choice, but her, Chim, Hen, and Karen are going through a lot this week regarding Mara’s foster status. Bobby is working on set. So he sends two texts. One to Eddie and one to Tommy. They’re a bit different in tone, he’ll admit. 

To Eddie: I really need to talk. Had a fucked up morning and it’s kind of serious. Can you call?

To Tommy: Are you free at all this afternoon/evening? 

It takes Tommy ten minutes to reply. Eddie never does. 

Tommy replies that he has dinner plans with friends, but can swing by before. Fine. Good. That’s enough time for Buck to explain. As he waits for Tommy to come over, he keeps staring at his phone. As much as he’s glad he can talk to Tommy, he really wants Eddie to reply. Maybe he could just… Be there for him today. But by the time Tommy arrives, Eddie hasn’t even opened the message. 

When Tommy comes in, it’s clear he thinks Buck has invited him over for… Well, for fun. He pulls Buck into a bruising kiss right away, and it takes a second after Buck steps out of it, not matching his energy, for him to notice the upset look on Buck’s face. 

“Evan? What’s wrong?”

“Uh…” Buck scratches his head. “It’s sort of serious.”

“Okay,” Tommy frowns. “Tell me.”

At the thought of speaking it aloud for the first time, Buck’s throat constricts. His eyes well up. It all comes spilling out of him incoherently. 

“When I was seventeen a firework went off over my head,” he blurts. “It-it burnt my coat.” 

Tommy looks at him like he’s crazy. 

He explains everything else. The jet. The symptoms. The appointment. The diagnosis. The hearing aids. All of it. 

“I-I have a follow up appointment in  a few days to get fitted, and… And I’m kind of freaking out,” Buck admits. 

Tommy exhales heavily. “I’m sorry. That’s hard news.”

Buck nods. “Yeah, I… I still don’t know what to think.”

“It’s a risk of the job, I guess,” Tommy says. 

“I mean, yeah… Still sucks that, other than Eddie, I’ve been here the least amount of time and it’s happening to me,” Buck grumbles. “And, honestly? Scratch that, because Eddie has all that time in the army.”

“Are you saying you’d rather this be happening to a team member?” Tommy frowns. Like, sort of judgmentally. “Because you also just said you were kind of an idiot at seventeen.”

Buck shrinks a little.

“Uh, no. Obviously I don’t wish this on my friends, Tommy. I’m saying… It-it doesn’t feel fair.” 

“I don’t think it’s about fair or not fair,” Tommy replies.

Buck sighs. “I know. Can I be upset for thirty fucking seconds?”

Tommy raises his hands. “Sorry.”

“Sorry, I’m just… This is a lot to process.”

“I bet,” Tommy concedes. “What are you going to do about work?”

“I’ve already put in for a leave,” Buck explains. 

“Just a leave?” Tommy asks. 

Buck blinks, caught off guard. “Uh, yeah. Until I’m comfortable with the hearing aids.”

“Not a transfer, too?” Tommy adds.

“A transfer?” 

“Well, yeah,” Tommy replies. “The 118 is one of the most intense stations in the LAFD. It might not be the best place to… Adjust.”

“What are you saying?” Buck demands. 

“Don’t bite my head off, Evan,” Tommy replies. “I’m just saying, it might not be the best place for you anymore.”

[messinwitheddie]

Wanted to introduce some JTHM ocs, specifically Noise, a Doughboy oc I adopted from @psycho-doughart I modified his design slightly (mostly added cracks on his body and the musical note symbol. Took me forever to get his story plotted out on paper.

Noise is the tiniest Doughboy but he is the loudest. Originally he was just a novelty salt shaker, made of porcelain. He is chipped in several places and no longer full of salt. He's filled with baby teeth, shiny pebbles and a Canadian dime, so when he moves he rattles.

Noise is a "fragment of a figment", slowly brought into animation with residual moose wall grime when Nny first broke into old man Juan's Casarez's trailer. He scribbled on the novelty Doughboy salt shaker with a sharpie marker out of spite. It took weeks for Juan to notice; he's not an observant man.

(Who is Juan Casarez and why is Nny stalking him/ breaking into his home will be explained later. Sorry, shift is starting soon.)

Unlike PSD and Mr. Eff, Noise is really not concerned with his fate or the fate of his target, which ends up Mr. Casarez. If he is collected, so be it. Until then, he's trying to wrap his skull around this whole concept of being conscious. Noise is curious and mischievous. He just wants to be heard.

He quickly realizes the more he's heard, the "realer" and more independent he becomes.

And he will amplify as many noises as possible as loudly as it takes until he is heard. Eventually, he can amplify thoughts too. The negative, intrusive ones are the loudest.

Luckily for him, Juan not only has a deep fear of loud noises, especially loud, sudden noises like crashes, thunder, screams, explosions, ect but Juan is also prone to overstimulation meltdowns and continuously plagued with dread and anxiety.

Just amplifying ordinary background noises causes Juan torment, which breathes more and more life/ consciousness into Noise.

Thank you for the adopt!