#i'm tired. and upset. maybe i am bothered after all

[jils-things]

2024 is probably not my best year now that i think about it

[pricegouge]

horny knee-tattoo offerring...

ive had insomnia all this week and its super frustrating, bc you're tired but cant turn your brain off enough to sleep and its hard to physically tire yourself out at 4am yknow? maybe reader's 141 boy (any or all of em, its ur world babe) wakes up in the middle of the night and sees how frustrated and miserable their partner is, tossing and turning, doomscrolling, counting down the dwindling hours till their work alarm is due to go off, and they take it upon themself to fuck their partner to sleep. not just one round, no, orgasm after orgasm, squirting over the sheets, crying from tired frustration and then relief, till they fall asleep stuffed full around a cock. their boy(s) carefully get them all cleaned up and tucked back in the sheets dead asleep <3

i hope ur tattoo goes well! whatcha gettin 👀

Hii 💛

I went with Price cause I'm a simp

(also I'm getting Mothra)

cw: reader has a pussy which is referred to with fem terms, but no gendered pronouns for them. daddy kink (sorry). squirting. implied (non negotiated) somno. John's POV.

He's not expecting the glow of artificial light permeating the room when he opens his eyes in the dead of night, though by now he supposes he really should be.

You've been struggling to sleep for weeks now, the unhelpful sleep aids and your own frustration creating a bad feedback loop which left you tossing and turning into the early hours of morning when you would usually slink off downstairs to try your luck on the couch, leaving your side of the bed cold and empty.

It simply wouldn't do.

"Trouble sleeping, sweetheart?" His voice is rough with his own grogginess, sawing through the still of the night with enough force make you jolt, nerves shot with exhaustion.

"Yeah. Am I keeping you awake?"

He grabs after you when you begin to shift out of bed without even waiting for an answer. "Not at all. You stay right here." He pulls you closer to him, illustrating exactly what he means by tucking you in against his chest, his hand heavy where it cradles your skull. You sigh as if in contentment, but your body remains stiff and tense against him. "Anything I can do to help?"

"No," you grumble, just as much upset about it as he is. "Thanks though."

"Thoughts racing or just not tired?"

You shrug, shoulder jostling the arm he has slung over you. Your voice is watery when you respond. "Little bit of both I guess."

"Hey," John starts, immediately alert, pulling you impossibly closer. "What's wrong?"

You bury a sniffle in his chest, tension shifting rapidly to obvious frustration. "Nothing," you whine, obviously lying. "I'm just so fucking tired but it's like I'm not tired at all, you know? Like my brain's just decided we don't need it anymore even though body feels like a Furby with the battery running out, right? But there's nothing I can do; no matter what I try I'm still stuck laying here - wide the fuck awake and -!"

"Okay," John starts, easing you back onto the bed before you start rambling about more obscure nineties toys he's barely ever heard of. "Okay, let's just -." He pauses, at a loss, but then he looks down at you in the dim light of your forgotten phone and he sees your puffy face, the tear streaks, your hair a mess, tangled in sheets from all your tossing and your turning and he knows immediately how best to help you.

"I know something we can try, sweetheart."

"You do?" As if in contrast to your confused tone, your hands grip his forearms instinctively, eyes wide and hopeful as he lowered himself down over you, weight near crushing. He doesn't bother responding beyond a pleased rumble when your hands slip up over his biceps, kissing your fingertips when they curl over his shoulders. You're still so tense beneath him, but he's sleep-soft and heavy enough to smother you, thinks he can overwhelm you easy enough. Just has to ply you the right way.

The kisses your eyelids first, lips tracing the etch marks of your tears. He kisses the corner of your mouth, pulling back teasingly when he feels your lips part under his.

"John," you whine, and he can't help the huff of laughter which collects between you, humid and dense on your skin.

"Need me?"

"Yes."

He loves how eager you can get, the way you pull him down until he lays flat on top of you, the way you accept his tongue with a pleased groan. Your legs fall open beneath him and he grinds against you lazily, a tight contrast to your neediness, though he indulges you with the deep kisses he knows you crave.

When his lips trail down your neck, you thread your finger through his short cropped hair, your nails scratching against the tightness of his scalp and it eases that last little bit of lingering tension in him, makes him sink that last little bit into you. He's heavy, languid, forcing you to still yourself and meet his pace, rewarding you with a particularly dirty grind when you do.

He trails kisses down your chest, stopping to teethe lightly on your nipple as he slips down the bed. You jolt, undoing all his work, but he just chuckles, content to unwind you again and again if needed.

You're slick enough for a finger when he gets your bottoms off, but he makes you wait for that too, licks over your lips with fat, teasing stripes that have your legs falling open around him, blooming like a flower in invitation. He still doesn't give in, ignoring your clit in favor of pressing his teeth oh so gently into your fat mound and rubbing his beard into your soft inner thigh. It'll leave a rash, he knows, get you all huffy about it in the morning.

He'll kiss it better then, too.

"John, please," you whine and he smirks, pressed close enough to the crease of your thigh you can probably feel his incisors against your hip flexor.

"What was that?"

A pause. He can practically hear your breath catch in your throat.

"Need daddy to help?"

"Please," you sob, frustration bubbling up again.

"Shh," he breathes, lets his breath fan across your exposed clit when he thumbs the hood back. He should make you ask properly, but he hasn't forgotten this is about you. "I got you, sweetheart."

For all his patience before, John dives into your cunt like his last bloody meal. He's sloppy, spit and slick collecting on his chin as he licks into you, breath hot and humid, leaving him in heavy pants that have him groaning with your taste. You fingers find his hair again, pull him and he obliges happily, showing your cute little clit the love it needs as he finally sinks two fingers into you, moaning at the way you clench around him. He's efficient, a man with a purpose, and he makes you cum within minutes, your breathy whines sounding suspiciously like a low chant of 'daddy.'

You moan when he kisses you after, no finesse. Just a hot slide of slick tongues where he shares your taste with you, keeping you distracted as he lines himself up.

It's never an easy task. John's a big man, his cock nothing but proportional. It never matters how many times he has you, or how pliant he get you beneath him, the first press into you is always slow, measured in your breaths which he uses to his advantage.

His words are soothing in your ear, lips pressed flush against your temple as he tells you how good you are for him, how much he loves the feel of you stretched tight around him. You hand clutches at him blindly, distracting. He threads his fingers with your own and pins it by your head.

When his hips fall flush with yours he gives you a minute, stroking your hair and kissing away the tears that have sprung up again. "Poor pet," he murmurs, petting your cheek. "Daddy'll make it better. Promise."

You nod, perhaps a bit stupidly, and John kisses you as he begins to move again.

You're easy beneath him. Pliant, like he was looking for all along. He wrings the first orgasm out of you easily enough and knows he could probably call it a night, knows you'd sleep well enough by the satisfied look on your face.

He doesn't want 'well enough.' He wants to put you under on his cock alone, drill it into your head that he can give you anything you fucking need.

"What do you say to daddy when he fucks you that good, sweetheart?" His voice surprises him, borderline cruel.

"Th-thank you, daddy."

He hums, rolls his hips into you experimentally. "Want one more?"

He doesn't wait for an answer.

With your legs hooked over his shoulders, John shifts his weight to fuck down into you, his sheer mass keeping you spread and pinned like a butterfly beneath him. Your breath stutters, fingers across his chest, shoulders, biceps. Anywhere you can dig in, find purchase - mark him back.

He knows he's got you dead to rights when your moan turns deep, unaffected. "Fuck, daddy," you groan and John bites back a dark chuckle.

"That it, sweetheart? Right there?"

You nod tightly, cords in your neck nearly visibly with how tight you've already been drawn.

"You gonna cum for me again?"

"Yeah, daddy, please -!"

"Dirty slut, cumming already," he tuts, but he pistons into you exactly the way he knows you need, his own groan caught like gravel in his throat when your cunt starts milking him and you mewl like you're in heat.

He's not nice about it; doesn't even let you wind down completely before his thumb finds your clit, drawing a tight circle across your sensitive little nub while he rocks the head of his cock against that spongey spot deep within you that damn near makes you hiccup in pleasure each time. It's no different now, your breath stuttering out in while you tense and shake beneath him. John waits until you're arched beneath him, clenched so tight around the base of his cock he couldn't cum even if he wanted to -

And then he presses his palm down flat and hard on your mound and you cum so hard it soaks his belly, dripping down to the sheets and collecting in the creases of both your joints.

"Fuckin' hell," he growls, planting one fist on the bed by your hip to support himself as he watches you drift back to earth.

You're fucked out and dazed, already drifting off when John rolls you onto your belly to straddle your hips. "Feeling better, sweetheart?" he rumbles, lowering himself to settle snugly over your back, keep you enveloped in his safe, sturdy weight.

"Yes, daddy," you mumble into the pillow and John presses a whiskery, satisfied smile against your temple. He slips back into you with so little resistance you barely even seem to notice.

"Just needed me, didn't you honey? Get some sleep now, yeah? I'll give you some sweet dreams."

[lizardaggro]

on the flip side (twst bully!au) part 4

sorry this didn't get out sooner; my sleep issues are really upset (might be daylight savings?) and i spent most of the past few days feeling like a zombie. i'm better now though! it's also a bit shorter than i'd like, but i didn't want to leave you guys hanging. also two fics? in one day?? crazy!

part 1 part 2 part 3 genre: gn reader, angst trigger warnings: bullying, yandere has officially escalated word count: 897

“Child of man,” Malleus said. Even his voice felt suffocating. “Lilia has informed me that some… pests have been bothering you as of late.” He must mean the others. Did he really not know? Well, you supposed it wasn’t too farfetched, since he didn’t have any friends and everyone was afraid of him, especially after his Overblot. “You need only have let me know and I would have… taken care of them. But worry not. You’ll be safe here, where no one would dare to harm you.”

Oh no. Oh no no no. It was finally happening. Malleus had lost his mind. It felt a little nice, you’d admit, knowing that at least one person still cared for you. But that didn’t mean you could accept being trapped here for who knows how long. You still had to take care of Grim and attend classes. Not to mention you hated feeling trapped.

You knew you couldn’t count on anyone to save you. Lilia was the only one who might be able to make him see reason, but he seemed to be fully complicit in the matter. The dorm leaders might be somewhat capable if they worked together, but they’d have no motive for that, other than to torment you further.

Getting angry and yelling wouldn’t solve anything here. You had to be smart about it. “Tsunotarou, I can’t stay here. You know that,” you reasoned. “I have responsibilities to take care of. Besides, wouldn’t you grow tired of me? Everyone else did, after all.” You surprised yourself with how true your sentiments were. Maybe you harbored more negative feelings about all of this than you’d realized.

Naturally you were pissed that everyone turned on you, but you’d never really stopped to think about how lonely you’d been. Even your professors would hardly give you the time of day. You didn’t even know what you possibly could’ve done to set them off. Grim and the ghosts were the only ones whose attitudes never changed; but it wasn’t the same.

Malleus was pouting; there was simply no other way to describe the look on his face. “Surely you don’t mean that; not after everything they’ve done,” he quipped. Was he serious? In what way did he think you’d enjoy being trapped inside one tiny room for who knows how long?

“Yes. I do. And I don’t appreciate you taking away my freedom like this. If you really cared about me, you’d respect my wishes.” You hoped appealing to his emotions would work, no, you needed it to work. If it didn’t, you weren’t sure how long your sanity would last.

“I do care about you, Child of Man,” he objected. “Can’t you see that’s why I’m doing this? It isn’t safe out there. You’ll get hurt by those vile beings you once called friends.” He spat out that last word, like they were undeserving of the title. You didn’t know how to feel about that.

There was one thing you did know, however: this man was delusional. He’d gone paranoid with worries for your safety, even though he knew nothing just hours ago and was fine. He’d always been a little possessive, you’d noticed, but you’d brushed it off as him being afraid of losing his one and only friend. Now this? This was a whole new level.

Ah, but then you remembered. Malleus knew about most of the bullying, but not all of it. You doubted Lilia would’ve tattled on his own dorm members. You smiled, catching him off guard. “But am I any safer in here? I bet you don’t know, after all. You don’t know how Sebek would beat me in the halls, how Silver watches me everywhere I go. It’s creepy; I don’t like it. And I’m sure Lilia didn’t tell you how he tries to poison me with his cooking,” you listed calmly, as if you were having an ordinary conversation.

“They WHAT?!” Malleus shouted. “LILIA! SILVER! SEBEK! GET OVER HERE THIS INSTANT!” You flinched; he was usually so calm, you didn’t expect him to suddenly yell like that. It was good that he believed you, not that you were lying. You didn’t have a backup plan.

As the unfortunate trio entered the room, you made your way over to the door. You thought you’d managed to slip out unnoticed, but Lilia shot you a wink. Did that mean he’d keep his mouth shut about your escape? You could only hope.

You ran through the halls, Malleus’s shouting covering up the sounds of your footfalls. You knew this place like the back of your hand, so you weren’t at risk of getting lost. The only question was how long the lecture would last. If you were lucky, Lilia would buy you some time, but you wouldn’t count on it.

And then, at last, you were safe, on the other side of the portal. You were totally winded, after having had the run of your life. Everything seemed great, but then you heard a voice.

“Oya? What do we have here? What were you doing in Diasomnia, prefect?” Jade asked with a definitely fake smile like he didn’t know exactly what you were doing in Diasomnia. Oh, great. Azul was with him too. How… lovely. Staying with Malleus was starting to sound like it wasn’t so bad after all. No, nevermind. It was definitely worse.

taglist (CLOSED): @twistedcece @slxt4h1m @teawhere @pleasehugmeaether @reivelmin @aoiyx @trashlanternfish360 @probablynoposts @d3sperate-enuf @mono273 @help-whatdoimakemyusername @justuraverageeverydaydegenerate @im-here-for-the-fun-of-it

[da-rulah]

Could you do a something fluffy about Terzo getting given flowers for the first time in his life by a s/o 🥹 maybe after a bad week/ something that has him feeling down

Helloooooo, it's been a very long time since this ask was popped into my ask box and an even longer time since i've sat down and written anything, so please bear with me if this isn't very good... i'm quite out of practise.

No warnings, utter fluff.

'A long week' barely scratches the surface when describing the last seven days. His week had turned from aggravating, to downright infuriating, and landing now, on a late Sunday night, at just plain exhausting.

His Sunday evening service had gone off without a hitch, thanks to his careful planning and his apparent new role as a fire fighter, putting out metaphorical fires across the ministry all week. He'd even managed to keep up the facade of his usual self as he delivered his sermons.

But the second he was alone and back in his quarters, Terzo let his shoulders sag with an audible sigh, his head dropping to stare at the floor as if it were too heavy for his body.

Usually, after a difficult week he would spend his time with you, wrapped in your arms and being reminded that he needed time for himself too. You were his greatest support. But this week was different, and as much as he adored your presence, and as much as you lifted him from his own self pity often enough, he had done his typical act of pushing you away and declared he just 'needed to be alone tonight'.

You'd never let him know that it bothered you when he did that. You tried to be understanding, but you knew him better than anyone, and you knew this was a defence he put up when things got too much for him. Smothering him was not an option; you couldn't just turn up and be there, he never reacted well to being backed into a corner like that. But what you could do, was send little reminders that people - namely you - loved him dearly, and were here for him.

Terzo kicked off his shoes as the door, stripping of his ceremonial robes and unbuttoning the shirt underneath them. He wandered into his papal apartment and slumped over the kitchen counter, his eyes barely lifting from the floor as he dragged his feet. He reached out for the bottle of brandy he kept decanting in the same spot, right where the sunlight from the gardens would stream through the day to bring out the subtle notes and richen both the colour and flavour.

As he reached, his hand his glass he was unfamiliar with. His decanter was crystal, patterned and textured. This was smooth, bulbous even.

Terzo looked up, confused to find that in the middle of the countertop sat a vase, a purple ribbon tied in a neat bow around its neck. This vase was filled with the most beautiful arrangement of purple and white Columbian carnations, accompanied by purple Ruscus leaves.

He was utterly bewildered, his brain not working fast enough to put the pieces together until he saw the card that sat in amongst the flowers.

Keep smiling, my love. The world will grow tired of upsetting you. You know where I am. xxx

No one had ever bought Terzo flowers before. He'd never even thought men could receive them, the notion never crossed his mind. But such a small gesture, such an act of unbridled kindness and affection, had his eyes watering and his painted bottom lip quivering.

Was this how you felt whenever he bought you flowers? He understood it now. He understood the look on your face, because it was the same one that was on his right now. Such a small gesture had him feeling seen, validated and loved all at once. It was overwhelming.

You know where I am.

He sure did. But now, he wanted you here instead. Pushing you away wasn't the answer, you were teaching him that slowly. Sometimes you'd get through to him, sometimes you didn't. But tonight you had.

Terzo wasted no time in picking up his phone, wiping away the tears he'd let fall and dialled your number.

[dr0p-dead-gorgeous]

Jealous? I'm not jealous!

Mike Schmidt x fem! Reader

He's tired of this suspicious cop visiting your job

Warnings: hurt/comfort, fighting, jealous insecure feelings from Mike, fem! Bodied and presenting reader, you/your pronouns, no use of y/n, soft smut, subby Mike, p in v

Love this scenario feel free to send in requests <3

Vanessa's laughter echoed in the air as you exchanged warm farewells after your shift.

Your attention, however, was soon captivated by a different scene unfolding nearby. Mike, a brooding figure, rested against the hood of his car, unable to mask his emotions in the fading twilight. His arms tightly folded, and his gaze, sharp and unwavering, remained fixed on Vanessa as she sauntered into the distance.

He caught your gaze, a harsh sigh leaving his lips before abruptly turning away.

"Woah, what's got you worked up hun? " You spoke curiously, unsure what his reaction would be

“Don’t worry about it.” Mike said curtly, “It’s none of your concern.” You put your hands up at his sharp tone

"Okayy, just wanted to make sure your okay" you say taken aback

“Honestly, I could use some peace and quiet right now.” Mike’s tone was sharp and short, making it blatantly obvious that he did not want to talk. But you couldn't just let him be upset

"Ok I know you probably don't want to talk about it but if some things bothering you, you can always tell me, no matter what okay” you say frowning

Mike didn't respond immediately. Instead, he stared into the ground with a heavy sigh. Finally, he reluctantly nodded his head.

“There's...something, alright.”

"Are you comfortable telling me hun? " you say sincerely

"Well...we might as well talk now. So yeah." Mike paused, before starting. "I hate when you talk to Vanessa."

You look surprised "Vanessa? She's my friend" you say confused by his distaste for her

"That's what bothers me." Mike said sharply, "Why are you so close with her anyway?"

"We just get along well at work, it's not anything else than that" you look at him brows furrowed

"I'm still not comfortable with it." Mike paused, his gaze flickering away as he continued. "You spend more time with her than me.”

"I don't see he outside of work like ever I mean yeah I have long shifts but I'm not spending more time with her" you say defensively

“It feels like it.” Mike argued, his tone a mix of anger and irritation. “You’re constantly talking about her, and it’s like you don’t even acknowledge me anymore.”

" Mike she nothing compared to you! She just a friend I like talking to, I'm excited about making a new friend nothing more! " you say aggrivated

"Well, it's bothering me. I'm sorry, but it is. And I can't help the way I feel. When you talk about her, it honestly hurts...it's like you're choosing her over me." Mike's voice was a low hiss, his eyes narrowed.

"That's ridiculous! Your my number one, always, you can't let these jealous feelings convince you otherwise! "

"Jealousy?" Mike’s eyes narrowed further. "I'm not jealous. Why would I be? Vanessa means nothing to me. She's not important. It hurts seeing you two so close, and knowing that you're having a good time with her...all the while, I'm here, just a second option you could take or leave..."

"It's obvious you are, because if you weren't jealous, you'd see that your obviously more important, why can't you see that! You spit angrily

“All I see is you giggling at Vanessa, and the two of you whispering to one another while she’s clearly flirting with you!” Mike raised his voice, not wanting to believe in what he was seeing. “Face it, you enjoy the attention you get from her.” You gasp in response

"She is not! We're just friends and even if she was flirting with me I would reject her, I only have eyes for you, your being irrational! "

Mike scoffed. “Yeah. Sure. Maybe I am letting jealously get the best of me, but tell me...why do you talk with her more than you talk with me? Why is she so fun to hang around with, while I apparently am not?”

" I don't know it's just nice to have a friend I can talk to about girly stuff! I talk about you and Abby! I talk about my day, what I plan on cooking for dinner, funny things I've seen, just little things that make me happy, she listens it's just nice to have a friend for once, it's literally nothing more! "

"Well...whatever." Mike glared at you harshly, trying to ignore the fact that a majority of his jealousy had just left his heart. It was obvious that he was a stubborn man who didn't like changing his mind. "It still bothers me."

"You are so frustrating sometimes, what the hell do I have to do to for you to get that your the only one worthy of my love, your the reason I get up in the morning, your who I want to spend my life with, friends come and go we stay together! " You say in a Huff

Mike paused, not sure how to feel after your words. As stubborn as he was, he couldn't help but feel a lightness in his chest as you reassured him of your love.

"You're right," he admitted softly. "I'm sorry for getting so angry...I'm being irrational. Just promise me that you'll talk to Vanessa a little less, alright?"

You sigh calming down a but lowering your voice "Fine, I'll keep my distance okay, I was just excited to make a new friend, I didn't mean to make it seem like I liked her more. It really hurts that you think I'd ever do that to you, I'm trying my best Mike"

Mike nodded, his anger dissipating completely. "You're right. I was just letting my jealous feelings get a hold of me. I'm sorry for acting so irrationally."

Though he was clearly still agitated, he was trying his best to remain calm. "I'm glad you've found yourself a new friend...I just hope that she's not making any advances or flirting with you."

"I don't even think she likes girls, and if she was I'd shut it down in a heartbeat, I've told her about you about a million times"

Mike smirked, unable to completely hide his embarrassment. "That's good to know. I'm glad she's not as big of a problem as I imagined...and, well..." He paused, his expression shifting from embarrassed to annoyed. "You've told her about me a million times? Wow, that's just great..."

"What it's not like it's anything bad, your the main person in my life " You say tilting your head

Mike rolled his eyes but couldn't manage to be angry for long. Instead, he pulled you into a tight hug, smiling slightly.

“I know, I know...I’m just being an idiot. My insecurities got the better of me, and that’s not fair to either one of us.”

You hug him back "I know it can be hard, but you can't bottle it all up inside it's not good for you"Mike paused, realizing in that moment that this was probably the first time you’d ever seen him this outwardly emotional.

“You’re right...I’m sorry, I’ve been letting it all build up too much. I feel like I keep taking it out on you with these accusations, and I hate myself for that.”

"Your human your going to make mistakes, it's apart of learning and growing, in the end mistakes are just little lessons learned along the way, and being together, means we learn and grow together"

Mike felt your words hit him in the exact way he needed them to. While it was true that he was stubborn, he wanted to be a better man. Maybe he could learn a thing or two from you.

“You’re right...I guess I’ve just let a lot of things build up in the past. I know now that I need to do better.” He paused, pulling away to face you. “Do you forgive me?”

"Of course I forgive you, you know I love you right? "

A smile crept onto Mike’s face as the feeling of guilt left him, and he wrapped his arms around you once more.

“I love you too. More than you will ever know.” You look into his eyes lovingly then give him a gentle kiss

Mike was surprised by the tender kiss, his breath catching as your lips embraced his. He was taken aback by just how much he needed the affection, his body responding to the feeling of warmth and love.

When you pulled away, he couldn't help but feel intoxicated by the sensation of your lips against his. "God...I didn't realize just how much I needed that.

"Now let's get home, have a little alone time" You smile sweetly

Mike's eyes widened, but he nodded in agreement with the biggest smile on his face. After all, alone time with you was exactly what he needed to feel rejuvenated.

"Definitely..."

After a quick drive home, the two of you pulled into your driveway and exited your car. The night air was cool and relaxing, and the sky was dark and empty, making it the perfect time to unwind.

Mike locked the car and tucked his arm around your waist, a small smile gracing his lips as he started to walk you towards the house.

Mike was excited for you two to return home, and you could see it in the way he looked at you with an affectionate gaze. It had been a night full of emotional highs and lows, and now all he was focused on was spending some alone time with the love of his life.You finally made it to the house, and Mike escorted you inside. It was clear that he was eager to get cozy and cuddle, as he immediately took your hands and led you to the bedroom.He closed the door behind you two, sealing you two into a room of intimacy and privacy. The air was comforting and warm, and there were few places you'd rather be. Mike wasted no time, immediately leading you to the bed and pushing you gently against the soft pillows.

You couldn't help but let out a soft gasp as Mike began to shower you with kisses. It had been a long night of emotional strife, but Mike was making it up to you in ways that could only be done behind closed doors. His touch was gentle and passionate, sending a wave of warmth through your body and making you feel safe and loved.

You humm loving the affections

Mike's lips trailed down the side of your neck, his mouth exploring every inch of your skin. You sighed softly, the sensation of his touch making you feel safe and cozy. It was clear that he wanted to take things to the next level, but he wasn't in any rush, letting you savor every delicious moment.

Mike’s hands began to roam, slowly but confidently, and soon their fingers were interlocked. Their lips continued to meet with each other in long, lavish kisses, their tongues teasing and exploring. The feeling of his body pressed against yours, his breath lingering against your skin was the most sensual and euphoric experience you’ve ever had.

You let out little noises in content, loving the feeling of him against you

Mike's kisses became more passionate, his hands trailing lower, caressing your hips as you laid back on the bed. His eyes scanned you body, taking in every inch of your warmth and beauty. You wrap your legs around his waist pulling him closer

Mike paused, feeling both surprised and pleased by the sudden show of affection. His hands went back to your hips, his grip tightening slightly as he was pulled in closer.

Your bodies were now pressed together, the feeling of him pressed against you was intoxicating and exciting.

Slowly he grinded his hips into you through his jeans, placing kisses along your neck. You let out a moan, loving the feeling of him hardening against you

He reaches for your shirt taking it off for you, before unclasping your bra. He pulls back earning a frustrated whine to his amusement he takes of your pants and underwear leaving you completely bare in front of him. He takes if his shirt,pants and underwear, reclaiming his spot between your legs. He rubs against you letting out a deep groan. “Fuck.. You don't know how much I need you.. “ he says kissing up your chest. He's rubbing through your slick folds, head rubbing right against your clit perfectly. You moan “Please need you now” He wastes no time, lining up with your entrance, slowly pushing in. He moans as the squeeze, he never fully gets used to how good you make him feel. He starts slowly rocking into you, feeling every drag along your walls. Your moans are all he wants to hear “more~” you purr. He happily complies thrusting into you at a steady pace. Cursing under his breath he can feel how your walls squeeze him so well when he hits your g-spot. With every thrust he whines more, letting out moans face pressed into your chest. ““ F-fuck so close, so close “ he whines. He reaches down and begins to rub little circles on your clit. You buck into him with a loud moan at the sensation. “Just like that baby fuck! “ you moan out. You both are close to meeting your end. Mikes moans have turned to desperate whimpers “Fuck baby.. Tell me you love me,tell me you need me” he moans out whines your both about to come “Fuck, love you-only you Mike, need you so bad! “ With that he cums inside you moaning and rutting into you. The tight coil in your stomach snaps eyes rolling back as you feel his release inside of you. He continues the thrust riding out both of your orgasms before coming to a stop kissing you deeply. He pulls out laying down next to you holding you close in his arms “I love you so much baby” you sigh contently

“I know… “

[obsidianimagines]

Stay

After he and his brothers track down and kill the men who murdered their mother, Jack returns home to find you waiting in his room, and he doesn't want you to leave.

Jack Mercer x f!reader

Warnings: mentions of death/murder/trauma, a little homophobia (Bobby refers to reader as Jack's beard), smidge of angst, comfort/fluff 🥺, cursing, a little mention of sex so MINORS DNI

Notes: This is my first try at a Jack imagine. Hope you like it ☺️ and please ignore how bad I am at titles

Jack's childhood bedroom looked about as you'd expected.

An electric guitar and amp. A stereo with a collection of rock cd's. Band and car posters plastered on the wall. And, of course, a stack of VHS tapes that you probably didn't want to inspect too closely—he'd been a teenage boy the last time he lived there, after all.

You eventually grew tired of looking around and propped his pillow up so you could sit back against his headboard. His bed was a lot more comfortable than the one in the crappy hotel you'd been sleeping in, mostly because it was Jack's, and that meant safety. It meant home.

It was already pretty late when you first arrived at the Mercer home, so you were having a hard time staying awake to greet your boyfriend. Maybe you should've just waited until the morning, but something told you that you might be needed. That was why you'd driven to Detroit with him in the first place instead of making him go on his own. To be there for him during such a devastating time.

You yawned and decided to rest your eyes for just a few minutes, not hearing the sound of the front door, or Bobby speaking a little too loudly as three of the Mercers entered.

"Seriously, Jackie. How much are you paying her?"

"I'm not paying her anything, Bobby." Like always, his brother was just trying to get under his skin. Sometimes, it really fucking bothered him, but after seeing your car parked out front, he just wanted to find you.

He didn't see you in the living room, and just as he realized where you likely were, Sofi came down the stairs and confirmed it. "She's waiting in your room."

"Thanks." Jack took the steps two at a time, passing Sofi as she eagerly went to meet Angel at the bottom of the stairs.

"Hey, she better not think she's staying here! We don't need another La Vida Loca!" Bobby called after Jack, which he ignored, chuckling as Sofi started cursing at the oldest Mercer in Spanish.

Jack opened his bedroom door, cracking a small smile the instant he noticed you dozing off on his bed. He'd had half a mind to have Jerry drop him off at your hotel, but it was late enough that he assumed you were already sound asleep. Now that he knew you weren't even there, he was glad he hadn't gone anyway because he wouldn't have heard the end of it from Bobby.

Your eyes fluttered open as Jack slipped off his leather jacket, tossing it on the chair while kicking off his boots. "Hi," you greeted with a relieved smile.

"Hey, gorgeous," he replied as he climbed into the bed with you.

Even though you'd only been together for about two and a half years, you could read Jack very well. It was clear when he was upset or thinking of painful things, showing right there in his eyes. At that moment, you saw not just the sadness and grief of the last several days, but something else that disturbed him.

You shimmied down the bed a bit and opened your arms, allowing him to practically lay on top of you and rest his head on your chest. "What happened, baby?" You gently embraced him, resting a hand at the nape of his neck.

Jack took a moment to relax in your arms, letting out a sigh as you began to run your fingers through his hair. It had taken some time and a lot of built trust for him to be fully comfortable with that kind of intimacy, and once that happened, he could never get enough. After everything that happened that day, he really fucking needed it.

"I–" He sniffled, blinking back the tears that stung at his eyes. "I saw the security footage. I saw my mom..."

"Oh..." Your heart clenched as you realized what he meant. "I'm so sorry you had to see that, Jack."

"We found the guys that killed her," he said quietly, his fingers toying with the fabric of your shirt. "Angel and Bobby took care of it, but I...I couldn't handle it. I'd never watched anyone die like that." Jack had done some dumbass shit as a kid, but he'd never gotten into some of the more extreme things his brothers—particularly Bobby—did. Not until his mom was taken from him.

The fact that he and his brothers had found and killed their mom's murderers was not a surprise to you. Jack already told you that was the plan, and he'd shared enough about his brothers in the past for you to know he wasn't just talking. While killing was wrong, you had nothing against them getting revenge for Evelyn as long as Jack still came home to you in the end.

"But it's done now, right? You don't have to see that again."

"Nah, it's not over yet. Someone hired them to kill her."

Your hand stopped moving. "What?" Random robbery to contract killing? A pit formed in your stomach at the thought of him getting mixed up with something like that. "Who would want to kill your mom? She was amazing." You'd only ever talked to Evelyn on the phone, but between the lovely conversations and everything Jack ever told you about her, you knew she was a special woman.

"We don't know yet. I'll have to stay a couple more days..." Though it was important to find the truth and get justice, part of him really just wanted to be back home in your little shared apartment. He wanted things to be back to normal—as normal as they could be without Evelyn Mercer in the world.

"I'll add a few days to my hotel," you said as your fingers resumed playing with his hair. The idea of an extended stay didn't bother you at all. You knew he wasn't leaving Detroit until his mom was avenged.

"You should check out and stay here with me." He looked up at you with those soft blue eyes, and you already knew you'd be doing just that with very little convincing. Jack was hard to resist. "I miss you."

"It's not like I'm back in New York." Even though you laughed, you understood exactly what he meant. The cold Michigan nights really made you appreciate sleeping with him. "I miss you, too, but I don't want to intrude on you and your family."

"You're not intruding. You're my family, too," he assured you with a smile, which you returned as you stroked his cheek. "Besides, Angel's busy with Sofi, and Bobby's gonna be annoyed by someone or something no matter what."

You'd only met his oldest brother very briefly, but based on Jack's warnings and Sofi's rant about him when she let you in the house, you didn't doubt that he was a prickly as they come.

Jack watched expectantly, hoping he wouldn't have to spend another night alone. He had a hard time getting rest without you already, but it got worse after finding out his mom died. And he couldn't help the worry that whoever he and his brothers were after could end up targeting those close to them. That you could be hurt or killed just for being in town and being his girl. You'd probably be safer at the Mercer home.

"Okay, I'll check out in the morning."

He let out the breath he'd been holding and moved up your body to place a kiss on your lips. As he pulled back, you gazed up at him with the sweetest eyes he'd ever seen, and he thought for the millionth time how lucky he was to meet you. That you'd happened to end up at one of his shows three years ago was nothing short of a fucking miracle. "I love you."

"Love you, too," you said back without hesitation.

Underneath the rock and roll look, Jack was soft and sweet. You had seen tiny hints of it when you first talked outside of the bar his band had just played in, and he slowly let you in to see the rest. He respected and cared for you in a way that no other guy ever had, he made you feel safe and loved. Knowing you did the same for him after everything he'd been through meant the world.

When he laid back down beside you and pulled the blanket up over your bodies, you quickly turned on your side and snuggled right up to him.

Jack kissed the top of your head and slowly rubbed his hand up and down your back, and that was the last thing you remembered before finally drifting off.

Waking up was not quite as peaceful as falling asleep had been. A loud banging on the door shocked you both awake just in time to hear, "Rise and shine, Princess! We got shit to do today!"

Jack groaned and buried his face in your chest again. Even with Bobby's interruption, he really didn't want to move. After all, that was his second favorite spot to put his face. You were just about as eager to get up as he was, realizing just how much you'd needed this the last few days.

"What a charming wake up call," you said with a laugh, your voice rough from sleep. Considering how he'd referred to you as Jack's beard the first time you met, and at their own mother's funeral no less, a lack of tact seemed to be Bobby's thing.

"You get used to it," he mumbled into your t-shirt. "Unless you changed your mind about staying..."

"Nope." You reluctantly threw the blanket off and untangled yourself from him, taking a glance at your watch. "We've got plenty of time for breakfast, but I do need to be at the hotel by 9:30 to get my things."

Once you stretched and finally got out of bed, Jack sat up and scrubbed his hand over his face, his hair sticking up even more than usual. You went over to his jacket to fish his zippo and the pack of cigarettes out of the pocket and toss them over to him.

"Thanks," Jack said before placing a cigarette between his lips and lighting it up. He took a drag and watched amused as you slipped your shoes on and fixed yourself up a bit because, unlike him, you had a problem with looking like you'd just rolled out of bed.

Satisfied, you leaned down and tenderly cupped his jaw so you could press a kiss to his forehead. "See you downstairs, baby."

Jack's cheeks heated up at the sweet affection, and he blew out a cloud of smoke as you walked away with a sway of your hips.

Yeah, he was lucky as hell.

[phoenixblaze1412]

Heyy may I request dottore with a very sleepy (Fem/gn)Reader who always struggles with nightmares and staying awake

(idk what to do against my sleepiness :<)

Dottore, being a man of science, a doctor himself, has seen people go through various things. Whether it be painful to the person physically, mentally, or emotionally- he has seen it all. Even done it to others.

But when it comes to you, he wouldn't dare put you through that pain nor stress. So when he noticed something weird about your behavior. He has to know why.

Observation is always the first step a researcher must do in order to gather data. With his clipboard in hand, he watched you move around his office.

Subject: Y/N

Observations:

- Subject shows signs of lack of sleep due to the bags under their eyes.

- Subject has a hard time doing their assigned tasks; lack of focus, sluggish movements, constant yawning.

- When the Theta segment recommended them to sleep, subject reacted anxiously before declining their suggestion and stating they don't need it. Subject seems to be scared. Possibility that the subject is afraid of sleeping or something related to sleep?

Comments:

- Subject does not want to sleep due to something that is giving them constant fear. Best to question them on why they do not wish to sleep for almost a week now. Another solution is to give them a sedative that could help them recover the rest they needed.

After reviewing his notes for a second time and making sure he got everything, Dottore went off to find you.

"Darling?"

You hummed in reply, your tired eyes looking up at your partner. Dottore could only sigh when he saw the bags under your eyes becoming more worse by the day.

"Is there a reason on why you do not wish to slumber? I have noticed how you're struggling to even move around or speak due to your lack of rest. I suggest you tell me why, I'm beginning to worry that you might hurt yourself due to your fatigued mind."

You didn't give any replies, embarrassed about your reason. Already knowing that avoiding sleep would be pointless and the fatigue would catch up to you sooner. Your state couldn't even go unnoticed by the doctor himself.

So... how would you tell Dottore that you can't sleep due to your nightmares? Childish as it may, the constant horrific dreams you've been getting each day was the reason why you didn't bother to go back to sleep. Not even a wink or shuteye.

Without further delay, you decided to tell Dottore. The harbinger himself listening to every word, processing, even coming up with various solutions to at least comfort you. It's not really in his nature to do the latter but for you, he would do anything.

"Nightmares? And what, pray tell, are you having nightmares about? Is it due to the screams of the test subjects in their cells? The 'grotesque' view that others would find whenever I am in the middle of an experiment?"

Though the words he used may sound cold and blunt, the hand rubbing your head gave enough warmth and comfort. Dottore prefers to say things whatever it is.

What's the point of sugar-coating the truth when it's already in front of you, afterall? That is what Dottore would think.

Nevertheless, his actions does speak more than his words. He led you to sit on the couch he has in his office, letting you lean onto him as he gently pulled you by the waist to be closer to him while he listened to you vent out your nightmarish dreams.

"Is that so? I have a few suggestions that can be of help to you, darling. You see, I have concocted a little sedative, one that can easily make you fall asleep for.. let's say maybe twenty-four to thirty-six hours. Just enough to recover the rest you needed. I also have melatonin that could help you fall asleep. Hm.. maybe we should use them as a last resort."

Dottore had to be reminded that you cannot sleep due to your nightmares. Which caused him to stop in his rambles before crossing out the ideas he suggested.

He may have gotten a bit carried away.

You couldn't be upset at him, he is trying his best. It's the littlest things that matters, after all. Besides, he's never been in a serious relationship with anyone until you came into his life and you're probably the only one insane enough to even date the second harbinger.

"How about.. you sleep with me? You could use the rest too and I need someone to cuddle with so I don't get any nightmares."

"Cuddle? Darling, I am a doctor, a scientist. I may know the benefits of physical contact, hugging to be exact, to a person but I am not one to do such a thing--"

Dottore could even finish his sentence when you were already clinging onto him. Like a newborn to their parent, your arms were wrapped around the doctor's neck as you cuddled up to him. Said doctor could only lay stiffly on the couch, he really doesn't know what to do, you even pinned him down to the furniture and got into a position where you both would be comfortable. His fingers were twitching to flip the positions, with you laying on the couch instead so he could return to his work.

But you felt so warm and soft and so vulnerable even--

No. Bad. Keep yourself in check, Dottore.

"If you don't want to cuddle then it's alright. I can go back to my room."

Before you could even move away, Dottore kept you in place. His arms circling around your waist to keep you from getting out of his hold as he leaned his chin on top of your head. Luckily he wasn't wearing his mask or else it could have poked your eye.

"If this will be of help to let you sleep easier without anymore nightmares then go on ahead. You do know that the brain could eat itself if it lacks sleep for a long time."

You could only laugh in amusement at the information. Dottore would always tell science facts here and there whenever he is doing something very affectionately. It's an easy way to hide how flustered he is.

Your eyes started to feel heavy as you nuzzled more into Dottore's warmth. You felt something soft pressed against your forehead along with a small hum from the man holding you, causing you to smile as you slowly entered a deep slumber. Dottore's words being the last thing that you hear before entering your dreamland, this time, no more nightmares.

"Go to sleep now, darling. I'll be here till you wake up. I won't leave you alone with your nightmares this time."

[ddejavvu]

Hello hello my lovely Mei!! How’s it going? I am a bit scared to go into my kitchen because I saw a long bug that was really fast and it disappeared somewhere behind a cabinet :/ I’ve come to you for some comfort maybe a little something about this with Bradley or Jake? I hope you’re doing well <33

Bradley's sleeping. The whole reason you're in the kitchen in the first place is because you want to make him breakfast in bed, so waking him seems counterintuitive. But something long and squirmy and crawly just slipped behind one of your cabinets, the one you'd wanted to reach into, and there's no way you're making pancakes with an extra houseguest.

"Brad," You push at his shoulder gently, marveling the way he's face-down in the pillow and somehow still breathing, "Bradley!"

"Mmf?" Comes his rather unsavory reply, muffled as he groans it straight into the pillow.

"There's a bug," You hiss, "In the kitchen. A big one, and I'm scared."

"Okay." He pushes his palms flat against the mattress to lift himself off of it, and you adore the way he muscles through his sleepy state to help you. He barrels down the hallway towards the kitchen with far less coordination than he'd have if he was fully awake, but it doesn't seem to bother him; he's tired, so he'll go after the bug tired, because you need him to. He's not going to make you wait and worry while he scrolls through his phone, and he's not going to get coffee first to wake him up. You need his bug-catching services, sleepiness be damned.

"Where?" He grunts, eyes still struggling to stay open. You point warily at the cabinet it had escaped behind without crossing the threshold into the kitchen itself, merely poised at the doorway watching.

"Got it," He grumbles, taking a spatula from a jar on the counter.

"Oh- Bradley, no!"

"Hm?" He turns to look back at you, spatula in hand, "What, babe?"

"That's for the food," You fret, "The bug's dirty. And- and so is behind the cabinet."

"Okay." He agrees thoughtlessly once more, taking orders like you're his commanding officer, "Can you get me a hanger?"

You retrieve a metal one, so that it can be bent and warped to however he wants to fish the bug out. But his brain isn't functioning that intensively yet, and he merely swipes it behind the cabinet. To his credit, he pushes it out and away from you, but all he does is displace the creature, not capture it.

You let out a mangled sound, something between a gasp and a cry. The bug scuttles away from you at first, but then to your horror, rounds on you, like it knows you're the one who snitched on it.

"Ew- I- Bradley!" You gush, already backing away from the doorway that it's charging. He's finally more awake now, and though you'd have liked to merely set the thing outside, you're not upset when Bradley crunches it with the bottom of his slipper.

He breathes a heavy sigh of relief when it's trapped beneath his foot, and you try to calm your racing heart.

"You okay, honey?" He asks, and you nod disjointedly.

"That was scary," You note, and he hums in agreement.

"He's gone now. I'll clean him up." He grimaces slightly at the mess under his shoe, "Can I have some wipes?"

Bradley doesn't make you move the bug's corpse, just scoops it up into a bleach wipe and scrubs down the floor. You watch with a perpetually nervous expression, even though the threat has been neutralized.

"All gone." Bradley reports, the bleach wipes falling sadly into the garbage can. You nod, gratefully accepting the embrace that he tugs you into, leaning into the kiss that he smushes against your forehead.

"Why were you up so early?" He asks, some of that sleepy fog still thickening his voice.

"I wanted to make you breakfast in bed," You admit, and you feel him chuckle against you.

"Should I go get back in bed?" He asks.

"I think I want you to stay," You fret, holding the end of his too-long sleeve, "But I won't make you cook. You just have to be on bug patrol."

"Bug patrol," He echoes curiously, testing the title on his tongue. He seems to approve, leaning in with a smug smile on his face to peck at your lips, "That's me, honey."

[wastemanjohn]

TW misogyny emotional abuse sexual assault

i am not going to use the term 4b movement for this post because I have recently become aware it has problematic/transphobic associations. however the idea of decentering men - not dating men, not marrying men, not having sex with men, not having children with men - is gaining traction for a reason. it was gaining traction before the US election, and after yesterday - well. i don't need to explain do i?

it's terrifying. the hatred of women. the enjoyment of the hatred of women, the revelling in the hatred. the women who join in with the hatred, maybe thinking they're different. maybe thinking they'll be spared from it. that they can camouflage, hide somehow.

it won't work.

on a more individual level, so many of us have fucking had enough. we are tired. we are sick of the podcast bros demeaning us for our "body counts." we are done with the constant policing and control of what we do with our bodies, and in america's case the very real and terrifying threat to life and health that has arisen from that. we are done with the daily objectification, humiliation and harassment. we are done with weaponised incompetence, we are done with having our careers and areas of knowledge mansplained to us, we are done with being sluts and prudes and always being wrong no matter what.

can you blame us? can you really fucking blame us?

men are conditioned to hate us. some recognise that and work on it. unfortunately, many, many more do not.

the first time i heard labour by paris paloma i bawled my eyes out and couldn't entirely understand why.

the first time i read the husband stitch by carmen maria machado i bawled my eyes out and couldn't entirely understand why.

i understand now.

i think many of us have quietly stopped dating men before we even knew there was a movement around it. at least it seems that way to me. but just speaking on my own experience - i haven't really been dating men since early 2023. i briefly dated men again a few months back; i abruptly stopped because it sucked. because, hand on my heart, since i stopped dating men - i have never been happier, freer, and more secure in myself. i have never been more fucking content.

my life is beautiful now. i have my wonderful friendships. i have my loving bonkers family. i have my career, i have my aspirations, i have my wealth of interests and hobbies, i have my beautiful (four legged) sons. all of these things are so much sweeter when i can enjoy them in peace.

peace; when i'm not picking up after him because he can't be bothered to walk two feet to put his dirty underwear in the laundry basket. when i'm not heartbroken for months because i thought i was going to marry him but he had another long term girlfriend and a whole other life that he kept secret from me for so embarrassingly long. when i'm not doing mental gymnastics to excuse that time he made jokes about my sexual abuse, when he was the first person i really told, or the time he didn't comfort me and didn't understand why i was so upset when another ex of mine was in court for viewing CSAM. when i'm not spending another weekend alone due to him cancelling at the last minute yet again for his mates. when i'm not feeling vulnerable and confused because we've negotiated a scene and he purposely crosses my limits because it's hot to him (so many times). when i dont have to listen to everyone say what a nice guy he is but he's been pressuring me for nudes for the last two weeks.

when he can't handle my proportionate emotions and suggests i'm just being mentally ill when i'm trying to communicate that he's hurt me. when he tells me it's a good thing i've taken up dance because i'll get more toned and be able to open my legs wider. when he drives really fast and erratic because he's pissed off with me and wants to scare me. when he lies to me about having huntington's disease so i won't break up with him.

every one of these is a different guy BTW. and this is just off the top of my head.

how many stories do you have?

anyway 100/10 highly recommend being a spinster with cats. society hates strong, self assured women who can make it alone. i have never wanted to be that woman more.

and no - before anyone comes at me I am not saying all men are monsters or that only men are abusive. i do not hate men just for being men. i have some great men in my life as friends and family. i am merely making the right choice for me based on my experiences, based on how hostile the current climate is towards women, and i support the fuck out of anyone who is doing or wants to do the same. sorrows and fucking prayers to anyone who has a problem with that.

i don't see why i should keep my experiences to myself. why any of us should.

my DMs are open for anyone who needs someone to talk to about this stuff.

[olderthannetfic]

https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/765221485179731968/writing-about-my-favorite-characters-as?source=share

I'm really sorry to hear you're going through this, anon. I'm even sadder that it's not an uncommon story.

As another trans writer (trans woman, in my case) that's stumbled into other people eviscerating her works for "fetishizing" and being "het in f/f's clothing" I really sympathize with you, dude. The way I look at it is that you cannot try alter who you are for these people. They will always find a way to dislike you because you are their ideological enemy. They dislike seeing trans men in what they see as their ship tags, not yours, so they will always find something they view as a flaw and flog you for it until you either conform or leave.

I've had a similar experience to yours, though not a literal thread dedicated to me. Ouch. I write f/f and sometimes that features non-op/pre-op trans characters because I am personally non-op after many years on E, and I'm always astounded by how it obviously upsets people that otherwise claim to be progressive. I also tag things extensively and I even include some terminology clarifications at the beginning of smut fics so that everyone knows what they're getting into. It doesn't matter to them. It'll never matter to them what you or I do, so why bother trying to coddle them?

There are readers that like my works, but after walking into a fandom Discord's NSFW fic channel, I saw how many people assume that my fics are written by a cis person or the fabled Dirty Fetishizer. It's one thing to intellectually know this happens and another to see your own work - something that you as a trans person created to talk about some part of yourself - ripped apart as this nasty tripe that no "real" trans person would write or read.

To make matters worse, I saw all that after I went through a rather nasty spate of transphobic anons when the fandom was very young. It was so tiring. I was exhausted. Seeing virulent hate in the real world and then having it thrown in my face for writing characters in a way that people disagreed with was just too much for me.

My way of dealing with this was disengaging from my own fandom, turning off anons on tumblr, and blocking anyone I even felt slightly annoyed by just in case it boiled over into something else. It sucks, but it's how I continue to have fun with writing for my ships. I basically never go into my ship tags on Tumblr now, I curate whose fics I read carefully, and I only hang out in one Discord server that's very small. I still read and comment on others' works when I have the mental bandwidth for it, but I avoid most other writers, especially those I don't know just in case they're part of that -phobe segment, and keep the most vocally unpleasant authors permanently muted for my own sake.

Frankly, it is what it is, as thought terminating as that phrase can be, and I gave up trying with these people/this fandom. You could keep trying to interact with the greater fandom, but you should block the assholes that disregarded your lived experience for your own mental health.

It's an isolating process for sure, but that's why I supplemented it with seeking out other fandom friends, most of whom are trans. Maybe we disagree with headcanons, and in a lot of cases we're polar opposites, but we all stick together because otherwise we're all thrown into isolation. That, and I always try to focus on the folks that do like what I write.

--

[fnaffancontentbutmostlyglamrocks]

SteelWoolStudios treatment towards Monty fans is so inconsiderate.

I want to preface this with this note

Monty not being in HW2, nor is him possibly not being in DLC what I have an issue with. The issue I have is how SteelWoolStudio responded to the initial fan response of why Monty was not in the game

During an interview, it was asked why Monty was cut.

It was explained that they didn't want to do Monty Golf again. Honestly, I can see why. Even though I think a VR game would make even a recreation a different experience. I understand that, one. It would be tiring to have to make another set of minigolf courses. Two, that would be its own game. I love Monty, but even I would find it strange if he was given THAT much focus.

Now, granted, I am still a bit side eyeing them. Cause well. Why is Monty the only one with this excuse? They found clever ways to incorporate Chica. Roxy and Freddy got completely unique minigames. Even the endos were utilized. I swear Moon was overused.

With Monty, nothing?

Okay, but being fair. Making games isn't just [Press button] [Make Game]. Maybe Moon was used in Bonnie Bowl instead of Monty like initially planned because they were out of time, and Moons flashlight gimmic was good to go while it take another month to incorporate Montys.

Now I know you're all confused. Cause I'm explaining why I'm fine with Monty not being in the game. Even if the excuse is pretty shallow. Well. As I said before, its not that. Its the response.

The response after that initial answer. WAS that Monty was in the game.

That has to be the biggest "fuck you, we don’t care I've ever seen".

Before you say I'm being overtly dramatic. Imagine if Roxy, Freddy, Daycare, or Chica were given the same treatment Monty got in HW2. Imagine they had no voicelines, no animations, and the only physical presence is a statue you have to pray to the gatcha gods you get relatively early while grinding games.

Then you are told

"That IS the content you were supposed to get"

Would you not feel upset?

They couldn't even be bothered to acknowledge Monty fans were upset.

Honestly, this has made me not ever want to buy another SteelWoolStudio game or care about FNAF.

Cause I know Monty will be gone. That isn't because of some secret vendetta. It's just how FNAF works. While I hope we get a new version of Monty. I'm also open to whatever the new cast brings.

My only issue now is with how I've been treated as a Monty fan. Feeling like I've been "punished" for picking the wrong character to connect with.

I have to wonder. Will I pick the wrong character again?

I don't want to deal with that.

[whumpshaped]

a nonhuman whumpee i enjoy is a dog-like whumpee, with matching tail and ears, but also the core personality traits of a dog. they are really loyal and eager to please and maybe they have a more child-adjacent understanding of their surroundings :) could go both the guard dog and the kicked soaking wet puppy route

(also if you write something for this could it be comfy? i’m in dire need of comf)

doing this first bc i want u to have comf

tw pet whump, hybrid whumpee

It had been a long day. To say Caretaker was tired would've been an understatement; they were exhausted, drained to the point that they weren't sure they would be able to drag themself home. But they did, eventually, coming to a stop in front of the door of their apartment.

They heard the soft pitter-patter of feet from inside, and they wanted to bang their head against the wood. They couldn't do it tonight. They wouldn't be able to play fetch for an hour, they couldn't give belly rubs until their arm cramped up. Would Whumpee be upset? Would they throw a tantrum?

Caretaker sighed and put the key in the lock. They'd just have to see.

"Caretaker!" Whumpee was already kneeling by the door, bouncing up and down excitedly. They were clutching their favourite toy, ears all perked up and tail wagging a million miles an hour. "You're home!"

Despite the fatigue, Caretaker couldn't help but smile. "Sure am."

Whumpee seemed to catch on, and they settled down a little, frowning. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, of course. I'm just a little tired today." They closed the door behind themself and kicked their shoes off, then walked over to the kitchen to prepare some food for their new pet. Said pet crawled after them immediately.

"That's okay! I can be very quiet!" they said entirely too loudly, and Caretaker chuckled.

"Can you? What a good boy you are."

"I am!" Whumpee looked very proud to be praised, puffing out their chest and grinning up at them. "And I can be very patient! And good! We don't have to do anything tonight! I can just lie down by your feet as you watch TV. That's okay with me. I won't bother you."

"Mhm." Caretaker laid the wooden spoon across the top of the pot, letting the instant soup do its thing. "That sounds nice."

Whumpee continued blabbering until the food was ready, then blabbered some more while they both ate. It was a pleasant background noise in Caretaker's tired mind, and they were grateful that the pet didn't require much engagement to keep the conversation going.

After their meal, Whumpee really did quiet down. With a belly full of warm food, they followed them over to the living room and lay down on the fluffy carpet next to the sofa. Caretaker got comfortable as well, switching on the TV to watch something they wouldn't even be able to follow.

In the end, they did end up petting Whumpee until their arms cramped up. It wasn't quite energising, but it wasn't the chore they'd imagined half an hour ago. They fell asleep with their hand hanging off the couch, fingers tangled in Whumpee's soft hair.

~

general drabbles taglist: @ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @rosewriteswhump @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @whumpkinpie @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @whump-em @cyborg0109 @morning-star-whump @justanotherlokifan @2in1whump @lthrboy @justletmereadmywhump @florissimps @anonymous-tiangou @whump-kitty

[ryley-robinson]

Testing the waters here with a piece of writing. The rest is under the cut.

From Ry's perspective, it's based on how I mentioned that I think he'd describe his job and survival with the same tired frustration. (though I headcanon he wishes he had stayed on 4546b)

Hope you enjoy, I'm a bit shy about my writing. ^^;

---

I’m standing outside the cafeteria, waiting for the inevitable moment that somebody breaks the coffee machine. Again. For the third time this week. I make a mental note to check the date, because it feels like I’ve been on this ship for an eternity.

... I’m inside my base, dozens of meters under a dangerous sea, waiting for the inevitable moment the sun goes down, for the nightmares to start, and for the sleep that never comes. For the third time this week. Or this month. I’ve lost count.

---

I’m shuffling my feet along a sterile, cold floor as a passenger eyes me with disdain, because I’m taking too long to clean out the trash disposal. And I’m not saying enough, I never am. It doesn’t matter, I’ll be out of their temporary space soon and they’ll probably forget I exist.

... The roars are deafening. I’m swimming for my life, trying to escape an alien creature rubbing its massive pincers against my artificial flippers. I don’t know if it’s hungry or actually upset but that doesn’t matter. Maybe someday I’ll be out of its space and it can happily forget I ever existed.

---

I’m lounging underneath a bunk, wide awake in my shared cabin. There are no windows, there’s barely any light, and the soft snores of other crew members and the distant thrum of the Aurora’s core drive are keeping me up. I can’t be bothered to check the time, I know it’s late enough that I should be asleep.

Waking up is going to be a chore and I know that’s entirely my fault.

... I’m sitting on the edge of a fabricated bed, that is clearly not made for comfort. The reinforced window to my base’s primary room is showing me a world beyond my understanding.

The eyes of Peepers blink at me curiously and the bio-luminescence from the Acid Mushrooms and Writhing Weeds is the only light keeping me company. I turned any man-made lights off hours ago.

I don’t bother to check the time; days here are short and if I keep checking, I’ll go insane. I know it’s late and I should sleep to conserve my energy. I don’t even know if I’ll wake up and I don’t know who or what is at fault.

---

I’m walking back to my desk in a hurry. My heart is racing after a confrontation with a higher ranking crew member. I slam the door to the sorry excuse for a workplace shut, not caring who hears, and throw myself in the chair behind the metal table. I stop to catch my breath.

I enjoy a whole twenty seconds of silence before my PDA blares to life and I’m ordered to another deck entirely to fix a broken lock. I tap the confirmation that I’ve received the message; it’s not like I can give them a ‘real’ yes.

... The journey back to my base is tense and wrought with fear. My heart is about to pound itself out of my heaving chest after a narrow escape from a Crabsquid. All I remember is wrenching open the airlock and throwing myself behind the controls, knowing I was moments away from being devoured.

I can’t even catch my breath. I’m too occupied navigating around the gigantic, mushroom-like flora around me. Nobody can hear the hissing of air through my gritted teeth.

I can’t enjoy the silence, even if it means nothing else is going to attack me. My PDA gives me a nonchalant notice about smoke inhalation and I realise my Seamoth is sparking. I can’t signify I got the automated warning, my shaking hands are white knuckled around the steering controls.

---

I cut myself on a piece of rusted metal while cleaning out an airlock. The mesh from the bandages is making my hand crawl and itch and all I want to do is rip off the protective covering and claw at my skin. I know better though and I remind myself there’s work to be done.

I know that with only one functional hand, it’s going to be a long day.

... I caught my ankle on a piece of limestone while trying to find copper. The jagged gash is making my skin crawl and I know all I need to do is get back to my base before something smells the blood. I know better than to stay near the Stalkers and I remind myself a day of no progress is better than death.

I know that if I don’t clean the injury, I probably won’t have a foot afterwards.

---

I feel awful. I’m trying to focus through a headache, brought on by lack of sleep. I was overthinking again. I fumble with the repair tool in my hand, dropping it, the clattering across the metal floor only making things worse. I stop and rub my hands against my forehead.

Steeling myself and retrieving the tool, I quickly resume my work before anyone can accuse me of slacking off.

... I feel like I’m dying. I’m struggling to survive a horrifying illness, brought on by simply touching the water of this infected planet. I’m coughing and wheezing again, brought on by what I now know as the Kharaa. The heaving is only making everything worse. I can’t stop, I curl further around myself, shivering.

I can’t steel myself, I can’t resume the work that needs to be done on the base, on the Cyclops, on the growbeds-

The coughing resumes before I can continue spiralling.

---

The cure. Enzyme 42. It’s right in front of me. I reach out and touch it. It’s strange globules of gold fluid and I realise it’s going to save my life. The newborn Sea Emperors are free, free under the shadow of their dying mother. My heart feels like it’s going to break. It’s being torn apart in two directions.

But I have to keep going. I have to keep fighting and I have to get home because if not, her sacrifice will mean nothing.

I did my part on her behalf and that’s good enough.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Did I ruin a friendship/relationship I had with an ex-friend? AITA?

Back around 2021, we met through a mutual interest of ours, and all started out pretty well! He was sweet, he'd made me laugh, he'd shown time and time again that he's very caring, so we hit it off very well. I'd learned he dealt with an inability to read tones and felt himself unable to use empathy, which I related to - I had trouble with that too.

So everything was going well at the start. Then, we'd moved to a different website, if I recall it was Instagram, and that's where the issues began.

He'd begun learning about me, too. I felt I could trust him, and so I told him about a few issues I'd faced, how I could be people-pleasing at times thanks to me feeling inferior/disposable to others. He didn't like that whatsoever; he said in the angriest tone I'd seen him use; "I HATE people pleasers. God they piss me off."

Even after that, he seemed pissed at me. I'd shrunk. This passively reinforced my feeling of inferiority, hell it even established fear, so I begun apologizing and nodding along for me to feel safe again. It was odd, and I couldnt lie, I was a little scared of him now, but hey: "it was a one-off incident. It wouldn't happen again!" I reasoned.

But no, of course after that it begun to get worse. From time to time he'd shown even more of this behavior; He'd casually insult me, call me a coward, a doormat, say that I'm "too nice" for just talking to other friends. He'd even got mad at another friend for just calling me their bestie, and accuse me of "replacing him" because him and the other friend had two similarities to each other. I didn't have any intentions of doing so, and I made sure to tell him that, but he insisted. It got to the point where I couldn't talk to the other friend much anymore.

So later on, this progresses. I'm isolated from pretty much every friend I've made. He took up my every waking moment, from sunrise to sundown, I'm assuming Stockholm Syndrome was setting in at this point because I never linked him with how miserable I was. I'd tell him how I'd felt and he'd brushed me off multiple times, even getting mad at me, so I stopped talking about it.

He comes to me, says he's upset. I ask why and he says something along the lines of "I feel like you're not putting in as much time as I am with this relationship.

I'm too tired to protest, to tell him that he already consumed my life, so I nod along. At this point I'm miserably subservient, I can't bother to tell him how exhausted I am so.. I just, follow his demand. He begun telling me how miserable he felt around me, how I've been just messing everything up for him, how me attempting to comfort him and ask him how I could help has been pissing him off. I'm sure he even compared me to an abuser of his. I was heartbroken but I'd nodded along per usual, I was too afraid to do much else.

Around the end of this, we'd just started to send mail to one another when suddenly out of the blue, he'd blocked me. I was upset, but I understood: he'd said he wished to block me sometime soon (but I couldn't block him no, that'd make him mad), so I'd accepted it and just sucked it up.

Two days later he contacts me. He calls me a whore, slut, every name in the book, and outright says "I'd tell you to kill yourself but you'd probably just report me."

I asked him why he was so mad and he said he'd seen how active I was with other friends, since I was reconnecting with them. Turns out he thought I blocked him because his messages weren't sending through (which for the record, was because I was showering and wasn't on my phone.) I told him I didn't, and I guess that's when things clicked for him.

Yet he didn't apologize whatsoever. He said he wasn't sorry for how he treated me. After we'd talked he'd blocked me again after he commands me to stay away from his friends, maybe because he was afraid of me taking them away or telling them how he'd treated me, and to not post anything in the communities I was in. No, not just posts about him - legit, anything. Now the places I went to for comfort weren't comfortable anymore, especially with him still active there, so.. now I'm here.

Even now, almost a year later, I feel like I'm crazy when thinking about it. The shit he'd done feels like it was ripped from the craziest toxic YA romance/thriller novel ever put on paper. I'm willing to accept I fucked up somewhere but I feel like I can't be the only one at fault here, right? Or was he right and should I just.. suck it up? I don't know but I need the closure.

Am I the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

[sage-green-matcha]

MEAN IT - JACK CHAMPION 🌻

“Maybe that thing you said under your breath, you mean it” - Gracie Abrams 🌞

Content includes: Argument :( but making up after!

My first Jack Drabble/story thing? Anyways, hope you enjoy 🤗🌻

<3

<3

<3

You wrapped yourself in a blanket, wet tears staining your face as Jenna and Mel tried to comfort you. "He's not worth it, you're so much better than him. He was probably just upset. Y/n you're the most selfless person we know" you sniffed, wiping away more tears that fell from your eyes, lightly coating your lashes.

"He's an asshole, and he deserved to be broken up with. He shouldn't have taken his anger out on you" Mel sighed, rubbing your back and handing you a tissue.

You replayed last night's events in your head. Jack had just come home from filming to find you waiting for him, an annoyed look on his face. "You don't usually get home this late"  "Just something with my manager, they made me film for more time" You bit your lip, head tilted as he took off his shoes. "You could've texted me, I was worried" "Sorry, I'm not gonna be here all the time Y/n, you know that" his tone was off. He was definitely tired but he had never acted this way towards you. "Why are you acting like this?" You frowned, your feelings hurt. "Forget it Y/n, we're both tired. Let's just go to bed" You furrowed your eyebrows. "What's wrong-?" "I'm not just yours, Y/n...stop being so selfish" he spoke under his breath. It was like a stab to your heart.

It broke out into a big argument, ending up in the two of you breaking up. Jack wasn't the one to continue a fight. You could tell something was really bothering him. But you couldn't unhear his cruel, mumbled words. Selfish...really?

"I feel selfish, I know he meant it. He knows me better than anyone" You cuddled yourself up in a ball, more tears falling. It was like his sentence just got louder in your head. It's all you could hear. You tried to ignore it, but it's all you could think about.

Jack <3

Jack <3: Y/n, please I'm so sorry

I didn't mean anything I said. I'm sorry

Jack <3: I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you

You're the best thing that's ever happened to me

Jack <3: I don't want it to end like this

You stared at the screen. Blue and white light shining on your face as you reread the texts. You weren't sure what to text back, biting your lip as your fingers hovered over the keyboard. "Don't text him back, Y/n" You looked up, Mason snatching your phone from your hands. A sigh escaped your lips, arms crossed as you stumped down in the chair. "I'd expect this from Jenna or Jasmine but not you. Aren't you Jack's friend?" You rolled your eyes, snatching back your phone.

"Taking a friendship break, what he did was fucked up" "Hence why he's not here" Jasmin smiled. "It's been a week! A week! How am I supposed to just ignore him, it was just a fight. There's no way we're officially breaking up because of a small fight" Jenna glanced at you, sorry in her eyes as she looked up at the rest of the group.

"Text him Y/n, I give you permission" You just shook your head. "I don't even know what to say" You slumped over all the way on the couch, closing your eyes as the room filled with sound. "Have you written a song about it?" "Surprisingly, no. But I should"

As soon as you got home you sat down by your piano, your mind scrambled trying to find the right words for the song. Songwriting came to you naturally, so this was frustrating. After a couple of hours of googling words and trying to find the right piano keys, you finished your song. You recorded a quick video to send to your producer, going back to staring at the messages Jack had sent you. This time there was more added, the most recent being him stating that he was coming over to fix his mistake.

Your eyes widened, staring at the messy living room you had let your depressed state ignore. You groaned, picking yourself up to clean up. It wasn't that bad...maybe it was a little bad. But you had the house clean in less than an hour.

You weren't actually expecting him to show up, his face flushed in a guilty look when you opened the door. "I'm sorry Y/n, I can't tell you how much I regret this. I miss you..." he rambled as you zoned out. His words turned into nothingness as you stood there. "Did you actually mean it?" You held back tears as you stood by the door.

"No, what? You're the sweetest, most caring person I've ever met. I don't wanna lose you...I know what I said was fucked up. I was an asshole to you. And you didn't deserve that" His eyes were glossy, looking down at you. You couldn't help but break into a smile as he waited for you to respond.

He was confused but relieved when you pulled him into a hug. "Better be lucky I didn't write a breakup album about you" "Oh yea no, so lucky. But you definitely wrote a song. Didn't you?" "Hmm, maybe just one"

[desultory-novice]

Suggested Listening: Re_Birthday (lyrics)

-

I don't really mind the quiet...

Especially in my head. It's been...kind busy there for a while. 

I never bothered to count how many there were. More numbers were good. That was all. Or so we believed. But looking back, it was pretty miserable. Like on bad blizzard days, when they'd pack everyone into one room? It was that, only they never let you back out.

If there's one thing I'm tired of, it's how dark it is. See, we don't "see" things the way other species do. Yeah, I know: giant eyeball. But that was like...our brain. What we saw was the form of things. Their composition. But we didn't see light. We didn't see color. 

I think...that was on purpose.

Because, and I know this from experience, when you're trapped in complete darkness for long enough, you'll listen to anyone who provides you with even the faintest hope of things changing.

I spent way too long listening, unaware or more likely, uncaring that I was only dragging more voices into the same morass I was mired in.

But that's all over.

Someone stopped it. Came in like a star on the spring breeze and brought light and hope and dreams back to the world. And the voices have all faded. The others, they've been freed, I think. 

I don't know for sure because, well, I'm still here.

...But I think I might be the only one here now. I don't know if it's because I was their "favorite," or because my sins were worse than most, or if there's some other reason I'm still around.

I can guess what you're thinking about now, but it's okay.

I don't want you to cry over me, because I've come to terms with the fact that I'm not getting out. I thought it was that damn collar that started it. But, now that I've got all this time to myself to think, I'm pretty sure...I've been trapped for way longer than that.

Maybe the darkness is just who I am? 

You see, sometime back, I learned that a long time ago, when Earth still used a bunch of different languages, my name had a slightly different meaning that the one it has now.

One guess what that was.

...So, yeah...

That's why it's okay that I'm still here. And I'll be fine, even with the things I said. Listen, if me taking in all the darkness means that you're left with nothing but light, then I've done my job right.

Miss you, though.

And sorry I scared you last time we met. I kinda hope you never figured out that was me, but I think you probably did, after a while.

I won't be upset if you're mad at me for that. Or for lying to you about, well, a lot of stuff. For hiding what was going on with me.

I've got some other stuff I should apologize for too, but...I'd feel better if you never had to hear about those... Heh. Guess I'm taking more than a few secrets with me to my "grave." 

...Sorry if calling it that sounds depressing.

It's a pretty poor excuse for a grave too. It's got the "laying still in the dark" part down, but come on. I know I wasn't THAT great of a guy, but aren't graves supposed to come with fl...

"Pfffpht!"

...Suddenly... ...Miraculously... ...It wasn't all darkness anymore.

There were bright blues and purples and yellows and whites. Raining down on me where I slept from what had to have been heaven. They fell and they fell and they fell until I was practically drowning in them.

...Forget-me-nots.

"Okay, now you're overdoing it, silly girl."

-

Thank you for the inspiration, @driftwoodmfb