#it makes doing stuff like that /feel/ impossible

[olderthannetfic]

Ayyy, there seems to be a lot of older people among the regular commenters of this blog so I'm gonna shoot my shot and ask for advice.

Idk if it's just the clinical depression but I can't help but feel like I'm never gonna find love as a straight girl. I don't hate men at all -- I've been very lucky to be surrounded by decent dudes growing up but shit. Lookin at the state of the world rn... Gen Z dudes chugging misogynist bullshit at alarming rates, women like Gisele Pelicot going through unspeakable shit from their own husbands... it's hard not to feel cynical. On top of that the decent dudes I know irl are all taken, I don't wanna go on dating apps, and as much as I wanna fuck an older man no decent one is gonna settle for a depressed young woman who's a 4 at best...

It's not that i don't have fulfilling friendships or that I don't value them, I just want to love and care for (and get dicked down by) a decent guy who feels the same way. I've always wanted that and I don't think it's changing anytime soon. Feels impossible though. I'm not sure if I'm the problem (I'm plain faced at best, no fashion sense or charm to speak of, though I do my best to be polite and kind) or there's just shit going on I've no control over.

--

People will give you a lot of placating nonsense, but the reality is that the supply of reasonably okay straight women is much higher than the supply of reasonably okay straight men. Finding a fulfilling long-term relationship is always hard anyway, but man... straight guys really need to step it up.

That said, a lot of people in general and straight guys in particular learn a lot from the breakdown of their first marriage/long-term relationship. Just because a guy is listening to godawful manosphere podcasts today doesn't mean he's never going to be dateable later.

Research on dating apps suggests that your average guy responds to pics where women have a lot of makeup on by looking for a hookup, passes by the ones with no makeup, and finds the ones with a little lipstick or something but not heavy makeup the most dateable.

While it would be nice if appearance didn't matter, if you're really worried about this, there are some basic things you can do where you'll get a lot of bang for your buck: Find one lipstick you can stand and learn to apply it. I like Bésame Cosmetics because I am a nerd and they sponsored a local film noir festival. Peggy Carter's lipstick was from them. They have the advantage of being intensely pigmented, so a quick swipe gives full coverage. I hate having shit on my face in general, so that's helpful. If eye stuff is less bleurgghhhh than lip stuff, learn to apply eyeliner instead. There are some liquid ones I really like even if it takes some practice to get decent at painting them on. You don't need a full face of makeup or really much of anything to read as Hot Girl™ to people who don't know anything about makeup and aren't paying much attention. Yes, even if you're a 4 and it's not just the depression talking.

Charm is hard. Some things can be taught, but a lot of that's innate. Fashion, however, is not. You don't need to be a fashionista to look better than a lot of the people around you. Save your money for fewer, better outfits. Buy things that fit well and get things tailored. Don't settle for ill-fitting clothes that don't make you feel good. Look for natural fibers and clothing that will last a long time. (And if you think you have sensitive skin that cannot handle natural fibers, you need to go up several price points on your cotton. Just saying.)

You can also increase your chances by doing activities where you meet more people who might be a good match. This means finding hobbies that actually have straight guys in them and going to in-person things where you meet new people. (This sounds obvious and pedantic, but I cannot tell you how many women I know who want a boyfriend but only do social things that are 95% women and 5% gay men.)

But the biggest thing you can do to stand out is... well... work on that depression. Self confidence and obviously being in a good place in your life are very attractive. Also, the good catches who haven't been snapped up tend to be the quiet, shy people. If you have your own shit together enough to detect and pursue them, you have a better chance of finding someone great.

I get that ~fix your depression~ is not helpful advice, but working on yourself in both important and relatively superficial ways is something you can control. Meeting the right person is not.

It might help to look at this as a 5-10-year goal and/or a lifetime goal, not a "Oh my god, my life sucks this year" problem. Yes, there's shit going on that you have no control over, but if that's your career and mental health and so on, you can work on that and be in a different place in a few years.

Frankly, I think a certain amount of cynicism is warranted, but that doesn't mean there are no decent guys or that you'll never find one.

[gibberishfangirl]

WINDBREAKER | twinzies

Synopsis ✰ being a couple consists of matching doesn’t it?

Characters ✰ Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Hayato Suo, Akihiko Nirei, Toma Hiragi, Mitsuki Kiryu, Jo Togame, Choji Tomiyama

Contains ✰ sfw!, established relationship, matching accessories/items, teasing, couple goals tbh, fluff, literally just cutest couple stuff

when matching with Sakura ᡣ𐭩 it had to be kept simple and light. if you suggested anything too much or something too obvious he might have a heart attack. in all honesty the fact that you two had matching phone charms didn’t even register all that much in his head. he’d notice a cute mini miffy charm that you had connected to your phone and stare at it. he wouldn’t even realize the amount of the times you caught him looking at it. you thought it was cute to see your boyfriend be intrigued by the same things you liked. it inspired you to get him the same one you had for his. you surprised him with it and he’d blush while saying “thanks… whyd you get me one?” “no reason, just thought it would look cute on your phone too.” your smile would make him even more flustered as he was quick to put it on. a few days went past and sakura was slightly memorized by the gift, he’d play with it when he had free time or spend him time just looking at it. one time when he was fidgeting with it Nirei distracted him by saying “hey that’s a cute phone charm sakura! doesn’t your girlfriend have the same one?” “oh yeah… she does.” another blush was found creeping up his face as he realized you two have the same exact charm.

Umemiya ᡣ𐭩 wasn’t by any means a shy guy so whenever it came to matching or expressing any sort of affection he had no issue with it. he would want to do anything that would make you happy and he also liked the idea of showing off your relationship even more. you were all his and he’d let the entire world know if he could. no amount of teasing or comments could ever make him retract his feelings. even if it meant the teasing would leak into his meetings and personal conversations. “you’re not a dog y’know, wearing a chain with their name on it? just buy yourself a collar at that point.” Hiragi would tease, not meaning his words but just trying to get a reaction out of Ume. not that it worked, Ume knew exactly what he was trying to do. “no need to be so bitter Hiragi, i still care about you. don’t feel like you’re getting replaced.” Ume would pat Hiragi’s back sympathetically as if he were consoling him to which Hiragi would just roll his eyes at. it was impossible to make Ume feel any ounce of shame. especially when it was about his personal relationship with you.

when you mentioned matching couple’s clothing Suo ᡣ𐭩 was a bit caught off guard. not that he was against it by any means, it’s just that he didn’t think you’d be the type to suggest it. the matching essence was more minimalist than anything since the two of you would coordinate the outfits to go together. you two would have matching shoes and simple jewelry. you would wear a black skirt while he wore black pants and then have matching colored shirts (different styles, same color). anyone who saw you two apart wouldn’t assume you’d have a matching twin but it made sense whenever you two were reunited. you loved to do this whenever the two of you went on dates and Suo loved the way your eyes lit up when you planned out the outfits. it was a win win situation for everyone. most people would compliment your outfits or stare in awe at how adorable the two of you were. even if the date was interrupted by running into some of his friends it would still be fun. All of them would typically compliment the two of you and comment on how well you two look together. Sakura was a bit more on the shy side so he would blush at the sight of your relationship in general. he might have to stop staring at you guys after realizing that you’re matching, the cuteness would be too much of him. he would secretly wish he had someone to do that with.

it was Nirei ᡣ𐭩‘s idea to match. not that it was surprising to hear that he wanted to have matching accessories. he absolutely adores you and it’s hard for him to purchase only one thing for himself when he knows you would also love it just as much. he was for sure a little cheesy with some of the accessories such as the matching necklaces that were a heart and a key. SO CHEESY AND CLICHE but you can’t bring yourself to even cringe at the sweet boy as he was excited to show you it. you eventually settled with the heart while he got the key. you know since he had the key to your heart. pained you to stay out loud but his bright smile made it worth it. he literally never takes it off he doesn’t even bother to shove the necklace into his shirt he always has it out on display. the necklaces were actually somewhat subtle whenever the two of you were apart but whenever anyone saw the two of you it finally made sense. you could never tell your sweet boy no whenever he brought something new and cheesy to match. …even if it meant wearing ridiculous tee shirts.

honestly… Hiragi ᡣ𐭩 didn’t see the point in matching. not that he’d ever say that out loud. he does whatever you want but he genuinely didn’t understand why couples would match or what it’s supposed to signify… if it even has a meaning? he definitely isn’t too experienced in the dating department let alone in a relationship that actually shows a lot of affection. no matter how silly the item was or how out of character it was in comparison to him he would never reject any gift of yours. he also sure as hell would never even let anyone dare to make a funny comment about it either. especially not in front of you. he most likely has hit the boys a couple of times for trying to tease him about it in front of you. they would quickly get shut down by catching an elbow to their gut. nonetheless, as much as he tried to avoid it from happening he caught himself also starting to like the concept of it little by little as the days went on.

matching with Kiryu ᡣ𐭩 had a more sentimental effect to it. especially since you two were quite picky about it. it wasn’t something you two did often or really planned out. that’s what made the matching heart lockets you got on your anniversary so special. when you opened them up they were customized with a special message you two secretly made for one another on one side and the other side had a photo. Kiryu was a romantic he couldn’t help fidgeting with the locket in his spare time and glancing at the photo of you in it every couple hours. your cheesy smile in it would bring a subtle blush to his cheeks and he would remember the exact moment he first had taken that photo. not to mention it was a huge pick me up booster whenever he felt the tiniest bit down. all he had to do was look in his locket and he would find the motivation to go on with his day with ease.

Togame ᡣ𐭩 found it cute whenever he noticed you begun to copy his style. he found it funny how you began to look like a mini him by stealing his hoodies and shirts. soon enough he started to learn more about what looks good on you and flatters you. he loves how you look in the oversized streetwear style, he thinks you look cool but will never say it to your face in order to keep you humbled. last thing he wants is for your ego to skyrocket and for you to rub it in his face that you look better in his style than he does. even though he knows it’s the truth. anyway if you really think about it, you only look cool because you’re wearing his stuff so he should take the credit for it. however, now whenever he shops he tends to buy two of the same item since he can’t help but imagine how much cooler you’d look with him on your side. so in the end matching was technically his idea and you never caught on to the fact that you two were matching a lot until you started to receive compliments about how cute it was.

matching with Choji ᡣ𐭩 was subtle in a way that no one really even knows or realizes the two of you have matching items. the only ones who know about it are you two and you both don’t mind that. you both have matching items such as plushies, random items, or room decor. you both had a lot of the same interests and would accidentally buy each other the same items for the holidays or as gifts. it was funny as it was never intentional. there were so many times where the two of you would purchase something for one another and had to fight back the urge to keep it for yourself. only to find out that the other got you the exact same thing anyway. you both know each other so well sometimes it felt like you were the same person. it’s surprising how no one has even noticed that you two constantly wear the exact same pair of headphones everyday. yes. you both gifted each other the same style headphones in the exact same color.

[bisexualtwinkk]

bff vi!arcane

queer! fem reader x vi from arcane

summary: you and vi are really close best friends, but she doen't know something quit important about you.

a/n: I can't get vi out of my mind.

it's almost impossible to be best friends for more than 5 years and not be close. you and vi went through a lot of fucked up situations together, being there for each other every day, getting to the point of living together after finishing college. some of your and her friends find it kinda suspicious, teasing both of you every time about being in love. everyone could see the way vi looked at you, with glistening eyes, and how you would do everything to make her happy and safe, from cooking her favorite food to take care of her wounds when she fought with random people when you two went out from drinks. but vi and you were oblivious of these things, continuing to believe you acted like a normal pair of best friends.

"I think I need a nap, vi" you yawned, feeling your eyes growing tired.

"my god, cupcake, can you at least cover your big mouth?" vi stood up, grabbing your arm to get you out of the couch.

"big my ass" she looked you up and down, with a smirk on her face, entering your room.

"I mean, it kinda is"

"that's why everyone think that we are a couple, vi! you're such a tease" you laid down under a blanket, moving closer to the wall, "big spoon or little spoon?"

"yeah, right, I'm the one asking about being cuddled or being the one who cuddles, genius" vi moved closer to you, turning around and grabbing your free arm, placing it on her waist, "which, by the way is a stupid question, I prefer being the little spoon, you should know it by now"

a laugh left you lips, getting even closer to vi, your faced buried in her neck, breathing slowly, "right, sorry about that" you squeezed her a little tight.

"does it bother you? the couple stuff, I know some people can feel uncomfortable and shit" her back got stiffer, almost like she was afraid of the answer.

"oh god, no, never"

"okey, I just thought it may be weird for a straight woman, that's all" your eyes got bigger and a loud laugh interrupted the silence of the room. "why are you laughing, you weirdo?"

"You must be joking!" vi turned around, almost being completely under your body, "vi, you really think I'm straight? like, heterosexual?" you whispered, a big smile decorated your face, looking at violet like the just said the most strange thing in the world.

"yeah?" her face showed how confused she was, "you are not? I mean, you didn't say you weren't, how would I know?" her eyes wonder your face, looking confused by how entertained you were by the situation.

"I'm not straight, vi, that's outdated" your finger tapped on her nose, getting on your old position again. "I'm queer, I think, at least, I just know I'm not straight." your fingers played with her shirt, "what about you?"

"haha, you are so funny, cupcake" vi closed her eyes, an involuntary smile forming on her face.

"we can talk about boys latter, if you want"

"oh, yeah, we can do that, pretty"

[shysuccubusstuff]

Bodyguard! Mr. Scarlatella:

Content: Yandere! Mr. Scarlatella but he is actually human + assassin + farmer! scarlatella; non proof-reading; female anatomy + dubcon/noncon + kidnapping + usage of substances (once for the kidnapping) + mindbreak + lovesick! Mr. Scarlatella; cunnilingus + breeding kink + baby trapping + possessive! dom + overstimulation + orgasm denial + creampie + impregnation + trophy wife! reader (kind of?)

Summary: You never imagined that the guy that was about to end your father's and your life would end up falling head over feels for you, but hey, at least you're alive, right?...

Word count: 4240 words.

Note: I just hate how my brain decides to get dry af as soon as I end with my exams/essays... btw, Merry Christmas to everyone who reads this!! I'm thinking about making a kind of pt. 2 but with Mr. Crawling, let me know if you would want to read it!! It's weird to go back to the more dark stuff when I had started to write less heavy stuff... I feel I may have gotten a bit too creative for his personality, so let me know!!

Note 2: Let me know if any content tag is missing-- I wrote this over a whole week so I may have forgotten some...

You were the daughter of one of the wealthiest so it was only natural for you to live under the feeling of being targeted by someone, even since you were a child. So when your father presented a new bodyguard for you, it was nothing out of the ordinary, just some new guy who would probably quit by the month (at most). So he arrived, long black hair falling in a cascade and deep purplish pupils that pierced you through his polarised glasses.

"Dear, this is the new bodyguard, I hope you know how to behave yourself, I don't want to keep on complaining to that damn company, they keep saying it's your fault, but it's impossible for it to be solely your fault, I mean, it's been over 10 bodyguards in less than two months... Anyways, I have to leave, Daddy has some work to do." With that, your father left, his expensive cologne lingering in the air as he slammed the door, the new bodyguard still on the entrance of your room, a slightly unsettling smile creeping on his lips as he stood there.

"So you won't even introduce yourself? Seriously, the quality of that damn company is so freaking low... Can't believe they didn't even teach you how to introduce yourself." The man bowed a bit, taking a small notebook and giving it to you. "What the...? So you're saying that you're still learning the language and don't want to mess up? Ugh, ok, whatever. What's your name?" The man with crimson hair refused to speak, stating that he had not received a proper code name yet. "Seriously? Can't even call your name cause they didn't gave it to you, well that's just perfect. Don't bother me, just stand outside or whatever, as if I care." With those last words, the man left, finally leaving you alone in your room. "What the heck is wrong with that dude? I'm gonna complain to that fucking company of security, how am I supposed to trust him when I don't even know his name..."

As time went on, you were slowly able to get to know him, getting to know that he was actually coming from Japan because of some "old acquaintance" he knew since many years ago, that he loved magic tricks and that he was actually quite... cute. It hurt to even think it, but it was true, he was a cute man, always behind you when you allowed him, always running around you with your delicious drink ready and your purse hanging off his shoulder. God, he even learnt how to do your nails, makeup and hair in case you wanted to get it done on the days you were just too lazy to get out of the house... He was even there that night.

You had waken up by around three in the morning, making your way to your door so you could get something to eat in the kitchen, soon noticing that Scarlatella (as you liked to call him in a kind of playful way because of his hair colour) was nowhere to be seen, but hey, he was human as well, maybe he just went to the bathroom or something like that. As you were about to arrive to the kitchen, you noticed that the mansion was a bit too quiet, one would even say that it would have been possible to listen to a pin dropping to the marble ground. Unsettled, you quickly made your way to your father's bedroom, but you soon found out that the bed was completely cold. Now alarmed, you run to his studio, the sound of your feet resonating all over the empty corridor as you forced the door open, soon finding a terrible scene.

It was your father, well, what used to be your father, as his body was already turning cold, his skin turning slightly blue with clear signs of choking. Just as you were about to scream, your vocal cords were unable to produce a sound, your lungs being completely filled with a strange air that made you gasp for hair before you started to feel lightheaded. As you felt your conscience drift, you silently cursed that stupid company and that useless yet slightly charming man.

By the time you woke up, you soon noticed that your whole body was intact, expect for slight marks of rope on your wrists. As soon as you recovered a bit, you took a deep breath, deciding to try and scream to the top of your lungs in case someone could hear you.

"Hey! Someone there? Some crazy jackass has kidnapped me and---!" Suddenly, the heave iron door was opened, a familiar face entering the room.

"Good morning, dearest. I'm so glad you were finally able to open your eyes, you see, it was a bit difficult to get the amount of dose correctly, as I have never tried to keep someone as tiny and beautiful as yourself." Your old bodyguard entered, the heavy door closing behind him as he brought a tray on one of his hands. "Here, I brought you a few things I know you like." You looked at the delicious-looking food, your mouth watering as you saw all your favourite desserts, together with a bunch of your most beloved fruits. Despite the confusion, you tried to keep it together, looking to the other side and refusing to do what he asked. "Dearest, you've been asleep for over t--" Before he could end his sentence, you had already hit the tray with one of your legs, sending the appetizing food.

"Why the fuck are you here? You failed protecting me-- Fuck, you left my father to die, you're lucky I'm tied here cause I would crush your fucking skull with my---" The crimson-haired man got closer, dangerously close, in fact, his warm breath hitting against your face.

"Oh dear, I always knew you had quite the filthy mouth, but you must have been quite shocked to see that pig like that... I understand, I would never stop loving you for something trivial like that... Nor for anything, to be fair." His cold hands touched your face, the callouses in his hands making you frown even more than before.

"Listen fucker---." The man covered your mouth with his much larger hand, the shivers resulted from the cold shifting into goosebumps from the fear.

"Shh, dear. I understand, no need to explain it to me. I will make sure to re-educate you so you can go back to your natural self, that pig tricked your poor mind, but I will be able to fix it for you, see? I’m being such a good man for you, after all, I was supposed to kill you, but I even decided to turn my back to my client and let you live, I even avoided someone to think that you were alive. It was a bit of a hassle, but hey, I would do everything for you, dear.” The man finally got away from your face, taking the tray that had fallen to the ground because of you, together with the food that had been smashed to the ground. “It’s ok, dear. I understand this will take some time, luckily, I have all the time in the world, you just need some… hard love. I’m sure you will start to appreciate my company and care soon enough.” With that, the man smiled one last time to you, leaving the room with the sound of the heavy iron door closing, leaving you in the middle of the dark.

Since that moment, your slow torture started. The man left you in the dark for who knows how long, covering your eyes with a soft cloth, only taking out when he was around so he could start to… kind of associate him with the light, you supposed. He kept bringing you scrumptious plates, from your favourite foods to exotic ones. Of course, that was until the… maybe over tenth time you had throw his tray to the ground. That time, he simply took the tray, taking once again all the food on the floor and leaving in complete silence. The next time you was him was after… maybe one whole day? Your stomach kept rumbling, and what began as anger quickly became desperation, then crying and finally crying while screaming.

By around two months, your mind and body had become completely accustomed to his timetable and behaviour, letting him pet you as you ate what he brought, letting his hands clean your whole body and hair, not even complaining when you felt his hands drift towards your more private parts. Scarlatella looked extremely content with his work, rewarding you with constant praises and even a “pretty” collar for you. Despite it was a clear symbol of your turn into a kind of pet, the collar was beautiful, the gold glistening under the cold light as the beautiful charm with the form of a heart made a small noise of a bell each time you moved.

“Do you like it? I wanted something to congratulate you, after all, you have finally graduated. You are now back to your natural self.” You nodded, letting your head fall on his lap as he kept petting you. “I was thinking about giving you whatever you want, you can just ask.” He waited patiently until you were able to think about something other than the warmth that was coming from his body.

“…Freedom. I want to leave this room, please.” His eyes widened a bit, perhaps surprised that you were still able to think about your freedom.

“Dear, I know this can get suffocating, but you must stay here, it’s for your sa—”

“Please! I can feel my mind… slipping. This is getting worse each day, I… I don’t want do it, but the constant darkness is making me… think about… Just give me a bigger place, I don’t need something as fancy as my house, just something bigger than this room.” Scarlatella looked at you with a puzzled expression, his hand still massaging your scalp as he thought. Finally, he answered, not before letting a deep sigh.

“I suppose that’s fine. I can think of a story to explain your sudden appearance. Give me a few days so I can get everything ready, yeah? Promise I will do it.” As soon as he said that, he got up from the sofa that was in the room, quickly leaving the place before you were able to beg him to keep his promise.

Contrary to what you believed, Scarlatella kept his promise, coming back with a small suitcase and some clothes for you to change yourself, taking your hand as he made you walk with your eyes covered by that well-known cloth. When you were finally told to take it off, you were in the middle of a beautiful flower field. All the flowers were spider lilies, making it seem as if it was some kind of blood-filled battlefield.

“Do you like it, dear? I had to pay some money so they could build this house, together with planting these flowers.” He kept his grip around your wrist tight, not hurting you, but not letting go either. As he opened the door, you finally saw the house. It was a beautiful villa, completely decorated with cottage-like furniture.

“Yes, I like it.” Scarlatella smiled, a strange sheen in his gaze.

Soon, you realised why was he looking at you like that. You had fallen completely into his plan for turning you into his wife. He had created some complex story about you being his wife for over eight years, having to separate because you had been taking care of your sick father while he worked to the bone to get you as much as he could for the moment you came back to him. Everyone in the small hometown believed him, after all, he had been working there as farmer for quite some time, using it as a mere disguise so he could plan every little detail, creating a perfect façade so everyone would simply nod and smile to whatever he said. After that, your role became the one of a housewife, making you bake, cook, and clean, keeping the house warm and tidy by the time he arrived back home.

Soon, the days started to melt together, and your deep engraved hatred for him turned into a less bitter resentment. After all, he was the one that was providing for you, keeping you all warm and cozy while buying every single thing you asked him for, never doing anything that could hurt you. Slowly but surely, your mind started to reshape once again, now seeing him as a still intimidating, yet protecting figure. With that, it was finally the perfect ground for Scarlatella to create his perfect little wife.

Since that moment, Scarlatella started to become more physical with you, helping you around with all the cooking, “accidentally” rubbing his groin against your ass while he pretended to search for something on the top shelf. Not only that, but he made sure you could see him as a capable man, carrying the animals over his shoulder with ease, other times he was simply fixing stuff around the place. But the last moment he needed for your brain to start to see him as a possible partner was when you found him around town playing with the small children from the orphanage. He was surrounded by all of them, lifting them around and making them fly across the hair, his relaxed smile plastered on his face as he tried to make them control themselves as they waited their turn. Your eyes widened a bit, surprised to see him in such a… casual scene. So when he got back home, his working shirt slightly drenched because of the sudden rain that had started quite recently. The shirt was getting clung on his body, making his lean and muscular body stand out even further.

“Hey dear, how was your day? I hope it went great. Sorry I’m late, can’t believe I got caught in the middle of the rain while I was finishing some errands…” As he said that, he made his way around the kitchen, taking off his shirt and leaving it hanging on one of the chairs, surrounding your smaller frame with his arms. “I missed you so much, dear.” You tried your hardest to pretend not to notice, but of course you did, fuck, his groin was rubbing against your ass, and even then, it was clear that he was quite… gifted, down there. Still, you simply tightened the grip on the knife, biting your lips as you kept trying to focus on the food you were cooking.

Ever since that moment, you were no longer able to control yourself, always orbiting around him with your hand tightly wrapped around his arm every single time any other persons started to look way too affectionately at him. Scarlatella quickly noticed this, looking completely pleased with how he had been able to fix your precious little brain into a loving wife. In fact, he even started to pamper you even further, kissing your forehead every morning, asking you to let him shower together… Of course, you said yes.

So then, the two of you entered the bathroom, slowly undressing each other as the water started to warm up. “Love, you look so nice like this… All naked for me… I could just eat you up.” His hand drifted around your body, making your body shiver under his hands, and even if you were about to kiss him, he got away, extending his hand so he could help you get inside the bathtub. “Let me help you, dear.”

As the two of you finally entered the bathtub, he calmly traced your body with the sponge, making sure to scrub your skin without causing any type of harm. Then, he moved to your hair, taking the bottle of shampoo and scrubbing it while he hummed a little tune. Then, he focused on himself, redoing everything he had done to you. As he did that, your naked bodies kept pressing against each other, making you squirm at the slightest touch and forcing you to let small whimpers out every time you felt his lower half rub against your back. Finally, Scarlatella lost his composure as you kept pressing against him on purpose. “Dear… I have a feeling that you’ve been quite, eager to make our relationship more physical, am I right?” His eyes were now fixated on your face, making you feel even more flustered as you avoided his gaze. “Oh sweetheart, if you wanted that, I could have given it to you any time, after all, I do believe it is time we get to expand our little family.” And despite you would have normally shivered in disgust, this idea now started to charm you. So you nodded, accepting whatever he wanted you to do at that point. “Then we should get to business, let me get you ready love.” With that said, Scarlatella finally kissing your lips, his tongue entering your oral cavity as if he had been starving for a long time. “You taste so good… I could stay like this forever.” Scarlatella kept kissing you, his hands starting to glide towards your chest, starting to play with your nipples as his tongue kept exploring your mouth. “Dear… I think we should move to our bedroom; I don’t want your first time to hurt.”

“Oh, that’s fine, not like it’s my first time, you know, I did it a few times before you became my-.” Before you were able to finish your sentence, Scarlatella was already getting the two of you out of the bath, lifting you up and carrying you over to the bedroom he had been preparing for quite some time. Despite his gaze looked a bit crazed out, he let you down softly on the bed.

“It seems I was a bit too gentle with you, that was my fault. I suppose you must prefer someone meaner, treat you as if you were a little fuck toy, I suppose your brain is still not that adapted to having a husband, that’s ok, I will fix it.” With nothing left to say to you, he got on top of you, towering over your smaller body as he started to kiss your neck. “I just wish I could have arrived earlier… Get to be your first, let you make me yours…It’s a shame we had to meet under those circumstances.”  And even regardless his almost apologising words, his actions were crude, clearly showing his uncontrollable desire to make you completely his. “… I should definitely get you pregnant, make sure everyone knows who your husband is, let’s see if any other fucker tries to get with my sweet wife.” As he kept mumbling to himself, his lips started to make a trail towards your chest, moving even further down as your moans got louder. Suddenly, he got away from you for a second, taking something from the small nightstand. Still quiet, he opened the small bottle, letting the sticky liquid help him prepare your pussy for him. “Not like you will need it, apparently you were more prepared than me.”

“Come on, it’s not like we are… fuck, I don’t know, it’s just, it’s not like you are a virgin, right? There’s no need for---”

“I am.” His hands stopped for a second, his fingers a few inches away from entering you. “I’ve been investigating so I could make it as comfortable for you as possible, but that’s ok, I will make sure our next time is perfect… Let’s just use this time for letting you know how this works.” Without further due, Scarlatella started to tease your entrance, rubbing his fingertips against your entrance, while his other hand started to move towards your weak spot, starting to tease your clit as he kept kissing your neck. As the minutes went on, you started to notice a weird warmth inside your cunt, making your tears swell up in your eyes as Scarlatella kept teasing you.

“Stop— Can’t—It feels weird, like really weird, it’s not normal!” Scarlatella smiled wickedly, his eyes darkening as he saw how your pussy kept releasing your sticky fluids, with no shame, he got his face closer, starting to leave kitty licks over your clit before he began to fuck your entrance with his tongue, making you cry due to the overstimulation as he kept stopping just before you could release. This torture kept going for a couple minutes, making you clench the sheets, biting your lips as you kept mumbling barely understandable words: “Please, please… Just—Please! Fuck, please, let me cum, please, please…” Your words kept slurring, making him smile at the beautiful portrait he had been able to turn your gorgeous face into, he caressed your face with one of his hands, his lips still curved into an amused look as your face had become a mixture of snot, tears, and saliva. Suddenly, you felt Scarlatella’s arms wrap around you, lifting you from the bed and letting you lay on his lap, his unclothed erection rubbing against your clit, rocking your body back and forth as he kept taunting you.

“I just can’t believe you preferred some random person over me, love. I’ve waiting for you my whole life, I even learnt all this… tricks to get you to feel as good as possible.” All of sudden, his tip went in, barely letting you get ready as he kept pushing it inside and out, making your eyes water as he kept tormenting you for a few minutes more, his gaze becoming more and more obscure as his erection just kept growing. “Fuck, whatever… I’ll just have to prove you that nobody will ever fuck you like I can, get you pregnant so you can only see me… love me…” His eyes lightened for a second just from the thought, and before you even noticed, your back was once again pressed against the mattress, with Scarlatella towering over you as he was finally able to gradually introduce his whole length, the stretch making you whine and cling to his back. “You feel so good around me, love… Just wait, I’ll fill you up, fill your pretty pussy with my cum so nobody ever tries to get too close to you—You’ll look so pretty with your tummy all round—” As Scarlatella’s hips started to punish your sore cunt, you were finally able to cum, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your legs locked around him, as a poor attempt on getting him to stop for a second.

“Wait—Too soon, I can’t get pregnant yet!” You pushed a bit against his lower abdomen, your hands barely stopping him as they kept shaking because of the constant orgasms that just kept pilling up, forcing your brain to become more and more fuzzy each time. It was then that Scarlatella wrapped his own hands around your waists, using them as mere handles for him to push the tip of his cock just a bit further, just enough for you to cum once more with a pathetic whine. Despite you had already cum all over him, Scarlatella’s thrusts didn’t slow down, if not growing stronger as his mind was already too far gone.

“Gotta get you pregnant—That’s all I need—Fill your pretty pussy with my cock and get you to- Fuck- cream all over my cock, that’s it baby… Cum all over your husband, make a mess on my cock, you’re doing so good love…” His words kept resonating in your mind, almost as if it was some kind of chant, and despite you tried your best to endure it, your brain gave up, after all, Scarlatella had been taking care of you so nicely… It wouldn’t hurt to let him keep doing it for the rest of his life… right? As Scarlatella kept muttering to himself, his cock was already twitching, signifying just how close he was to releasing his essence inside of you. With your mind now completely broken, you smiled, your arms and legs tightening around his waist as his cock kept hammering against your cervix, one of his hands carefully pressing against the lower half of your abdomen, causing the pleasure to just build up even further as he finally released his load inside of you, his constant groans now turning into soft praises and kisses. “You did so good, love… Let me take care of everything from now on, I will make you the happiest wife ever, no need to think about anything, just promise to tell me everything you need or want, yeah? I’ll be the best husband int the world.” His hands kept petting your hair as his cock started to deflate inside you, still remaining inside as he refused to pull out in case some of his essence spilled out. “Let’s wait a bit, love. I will prepare the bath in few minutes; I just want to make sure everything goes correctly.” He peppered a few kisses all over your face, his hand rubbing your tummy as he kept imagining that near future he had been longing for.

[quokkie]

i js saw ur hamzah angst and i can not get enough of ittt!! do u think u could more angst but they make out in the end?? ik u did something similar but i js love these!! thank u n sorry if it’s so wordy idk how to describe stuff 😭

worth fighting for : hamzahthefantastic

i feel like this is so ooc hamzah:((

hope u munchkins enjoy i’ve been so lazy

the rain was coming down hard, soaking you both to the bone. but hamzah’s voice cut through it, sharp and loud.

“why do you always do this?” he snapped, his eyes burning as he looked at you. water dripped down his face, making him look even more furious. “push me away like you don’t care, when i know you do!”

your chest was heaving, your heart pounding so loud you swore he could hear it. “i push you away because i can’t keep doing this, hamzah!” you shouted back. “you don’t get it, you’re the one who always leaves!” his jaw tightened, his face twisting with something between anger and pain. “i’ve never left you. not once.”

“not physically,” you shot back, your voice cracking. “but emotionally? you shut me out every single time things get hard. his shoulders dropped, just a little, like your words had knocked the fight out of him. for a second, the only sound was the rain hammering against the pavement.

“i don’t shut you out because i don’t care,” he finally said, his voice quieter now, shaky. “i do it because i’m scared. scared you’ll realize i’m not enough and leave me first.”

something inside you broke at the way he said it. you wanted to stay mad, wanted to hold onto the anger, but the way he looked at you—like you were the only thing holding him together—made it impossible.

“hamzah,” you said softly, stepping closer.

his breath hitched, and you reached up with trembling hands to cup his face. his skin was cold from the rain, but he leaned into your touch like he needed it to breathe.

“you’re enough,” you whispered, your voice cracking under the weight of it all. “you’ve always been enough. but i can’t keep fighting for someone who won’t fight for me.”

his hands came up to grab your wrists, holding them in place as his forehead pressed against yours. his breathing was uneven, shaky. “i’m fighting now,” he whispered, his voice raw. “i swear, i’m fighting now.”

and then he kissed you.

it wasn’t soft or gentle. it was messy and desperate, like he was trying to tell you everything he couldn’t say. his hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer, like letting go wasn’t an option.

you kissed him back just as passionately, pouring all the frustration and love and hurt into it. the rain was cold, but his lips were warm, and for a moment, nothing else existed.

when you finally pulled away, both of you gasping for air, he kept his forehead against yours. “i’m not going anywhere,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“good,” you whispered back, your voice trembling. “because neither am i.”

[skywalkerslvt]

omgomg we def need more virgin sub peter parker!! u ate that last one UPPPPP

❥Pairing: Peter Parker x AFAB!reader

❥CW: smut, unprotected p in v, loss of virginity, drinking, sorta sub!peter, riding, dry humping, 3.7k words

❥Summary: After Peter drunkenly confesses his lack of experience, you offer to give him some practice.

❥a/n: Thank you so much for your request!! I'm so sorry it took me so long to get to this, I just had a really long fic idea and took way too long to execute it lol. I hope you like what I wrote! <3

You and Peter were sitting cross-legged on the floor of your apartment, a half-empty bottle of tequila between you, laughing over ridiculous stories from your past. You swirled your drink in your glass, a smirk tugging at your lips as you recalled a disastrous first date you had once been on. “I swear, he couldn’t keep his hands still the entire time—like he was auditioning for a role in The Bachelor or something,” you said, rolling your eyes. “I think he might’ve been more nervous than me. Have you ever had a first date like that?”

Peter froze for a moment, his fingers nervously tapping on his bottle before he looked up at you, cheeks flushed. “Uh, no… I’ve never really had… a first date,” he admitted, his voice quieter than usual. “Or, well… any kind of date.”

You down what's left in your glass before returning your attention to him. “Okay but you've had like–a hookup before, right?” you question, words slightly slurred by the alcohol in your system. 

Peter’s face turns bright red as he looks to the ground, hand scratching the back of his neck. “Uh–I-I mean…well I–”

“Oh my god,” you interrupt, shock evident in your voice. “Peter Parker, do you mean to tell me you're a virgin?” Peter’s cheeks glow impossibly redder, eyes meeting yours for a split second before returning to the floor, an embarrassed laugh leaving his lips. 

“You are!” you grin, leaning in slightly, unable to hide the teasing edge in your voice. “I can't believe it. The Spider-Man, the guy who saves the city, has never even been on a date? Let alone hooked up with anyone? Have you ever kissed anyone?” You watch him squirm and shake his head in shame under your gaze, feeling a strange mix of amusement and…something else you can't quite place.

Peter’s eyes flicker to you, then away again, his fingers still fidgeting with the bottle. “I mean… it’s not that big of a deal, right? I’m just… kinda busy with other stuff, I guess.” His voice is barely above a whisper, the tension in his shoulders giving away how uncomfortable he is with the conversation.

“You poor baby,” you pout, leaning in just a little closer, your voice softening, but the teasing lilt still very much there. “Well, have you ever wanted to?”

Peter’s eyes snap to yours, wide and startled, his blush deepening as he stumbles over his words. “I-I mean, yeah, of course I’ve—uh—wanted to,” he mumbles, voice cracking slightly. “I’m not a robot or anything…” He laughs nervously, but it’s clear the question caught him completely off guard.

“Interesting,” you hum, letting the word hang in the air as you lean back slightly, swirling the tequila in your glass. “What stopped you?”

Peter hesitates, his fingers still nervously toying with the label on the tequila bottle. “I don’t know… it’s not like I’ve had a lot of chances,” he admits, his voice quiet but tinged with self-deprecation. “And when I have… I guess I just overthink everything. Like, what if I mess it up? Or what if it’s weird?” He shrugs, finally glancing up at you, his expression both sheepish and vulnerable. “It’s easier to just, you know, not try.”

You narrow your eyes at him, setting your glass down with a soft clink. “Peter,” you say slowly, a teasing grin creeping onto your lips, “are you seriously telling me you’ve never even tried to make a move on someone? No crushes? No late-night make-out sessions? Nothing?”

His blush deepens, and he groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Oh, come on, don’t make me feel worse about it,” he mutters, though there’s no real anger in his voice—just that endearing awkwardness that makes it impossible not to smile.

“Well,” you say, leaning forward again, elbows resting on your knees as you study him with playful intent, “sounds to me like you just need someone to, I don’t know… help you get out of your head.” Your voice is lighter, teasing, but the shift in his expression—the slight parting of his lips, the way his gaze flickers nervously to your mouth—sends a thrill through you.

“W-What do you mean by that?” Peter stammers, his voice breaking slightly as his grip tightens on the bottle, his wide eyes locked on yours.

You tilt your head, feigning innocence as you tap your finger against your chin. “I mean, maybe you just need a little practice,” you say, your voice smooth and teasing. “Someone to show you the ropes, take the pressure off, you know?”

Peter chokes on a breath, nearly dropping the bottle in his hands as his cheeks somehow burn even brighter. “P-Practice?” he squeaks, his wide-eyed gaze darting to your face like he’s trying to figure out if you’re joking. “With… with who?”

You bite back a laugh, leaning in just a fraction closer, close enough that he catches the faint hint of your perfume. “With me, obviously,” you say, your grin widening as his jaw practically drops. “Unless you’ve got someone else in mind?”

“I—uh—n-no, I just—” Peter stammers, his voice trembling as his words trip over each other. He shifts uncomfortably, his grip on the bottle white-knuckled, and he looks at you like you’ve just short-circuited his brain. “You’re—you’re messing with me, right?”

“Do I look like I’m messing with you?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, your voice soft but steady. The teasing edge is still there, but there’s something more serious beneath it now, a warmth in your tone that makes him stop fidgeting and really look at you.

Peter swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and for a moment, he’s completely silent, staring at you like he’s not sure if he’s dreaming. “I—I mean, you’d actually…?”

You smirk, reaching over to pluck the bottle from his hands and take a slow sip, your gaze never leaving his. “If you want to, Pete,” you say simply, setting the bottle aside. “But only if you want to.”

Peter’s mouth opens and closes like he’s trying to form a coherent thought, but nothing comes out. His eyes dart to yours, then to your lips, and back again, the weight of your words sinking in. “I… I mean… I don’t want to screw it up,” he finally mutters, his voice barely above a whisper.

You lean back slightly, giving him space, but your expression softens. “Peter,” you say gently, “you’re not gonna screw anything up. It’s not like there’s a right or wrong way to… y’know, figure this stuff out.” Your lips twitch into a small smile. “Besides, it’s me. You can relax.”

He exhales a shaky laugh, rubbing the back of his neck as his gaze flickers nervously to you again. “I don’t know how you’re so calm about this,” he admits, his voice tinged with both awe and embarrassment. “I feel like my brain is short-circuiting.”

You laugh softly, the sound easing some of the tension in the air. “That’s just the tequila talking,” you tease, nudging his knee with yours. “But seriously, Pete, no pressure. We can just drop it if you want. Go back to making fun of my terrible first date stories.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his fingers fidgeting with a loose thread on his jeans. Then, in a voice so soft you almost miss it, he says, “What if I… don’t want to drop it?”

Your heart skips a beat, but you keep your expression steady, your teasing grin replaced with something warmer. “Then we don’t drop it,” you say simply, shifting a little closer so your knees brush against his. “We take it slow. Make sure you’re comfortable.”

Peter nods, his breath uneven, his eyes locking on yours. “Okay,” he whispers, his voice trembling but resolute. “Okay.”

You smile, leaning in just a little, giving him plenty of time to pull away. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” you murmur, your voice low and soft as you close the gap between you two.

“Don’t stop,” Peter whines, his voice barely audible, his lips parting as yours brush against them in a tentative, featherlight kiss.

Peter freezes for a split second, his breath hitching as your lips press against his, soft and unhurried. His hands hover awkwardly at his sides before one finally finds a tentative place on your knee, his touch light, as if he's afraid to hold on too tightly.

You smile against his lips, tilting your head slightly to deepen the kiss, your fingers brushing through the soft curls at the nape of his neck. He lets out a quiet sound, somewhere between a sigh and a whimper, and it makes something spark low in your stomach.

"You okay?" you whisper, pulling back just enough to look at him. His cheeks are flushed, his lips slightly swollen, and his wide eyes meet yours like he's still trying to process what just happened.

"Y-Yeah," he stammers, his voice trembling as he nods quickly. "I'm good. Really good."

"Relax, Pete," you murmur, your hand slipping from his neck to his chest, resting lightly over his rapidly beating heart. "You're so tense."

"I'm trying," he mutters, his voice barely audible. "It's just... a lot."

You can't help but grin at how endearingly flustered he is. "Want me to help?" you ask softly, letting your hand trail down to rest just above the hem of his shirt.

His breath catches, and he nods again, his fingers curling slightly on your knee.

"Yeah," he whispers, his voice shaky but full of trust.

You shift closer, straddling his lap without breaking eye contact, your hands sliding up to rest on his shoulders. "Just focus on me, okay?" you say gently, pressing another soft kiss to his lips.

This time, Peter responds more confidently, his hands finally settling on your hips. His grip is unsure but warm, and you let out a quiet hum of approval, deepening the kiss as you rock your hips forward slightly, testing the waters.

Peter gasps against your lips, his fingers tightening instinctively on your hips. "Oh," he breathes, his voice tinged with surprise and something else— something deeper.

"See?" you murmur against his mouth, your tone teasing but kind. "Not so bad, is it?"

He shakes his head, his eyes glazed with a mix of nervousness and wonder.

"No, it's... really, really not." His voice is barely above a whisper, but the way his grip on you firms slightly tells you he's starting to relax.

You press your hips down again, a little harder this time, and Peter lets out a soft, involuntary moan that makes heat flood your cheeks. His reaction is so raw, so unfiltered, that it sends a thrill down your spine.

"You're so sensitive," you tease, your lips brushing the shell of his ear now, earning another shiver from him. "| didn't think Spider-Man could be this easy to fluster."

Peter groans, his hands tightening on your hips as his head falls back against the couch. "You're not playing fair," he mumbles, his voice strained, but there's no mistaking the way his hips jerk up slightly to meet yours, seeking more friction.

Your movements slow as you take in the way Peter's body responds to you, his breath coming in soft pants, and you can't help but feel a surge of satisfaction at how eager he is, how open he's becoming. His hands are a little more certain now, sliding up to your back, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss, his mouth hungry and almost desperate.

You pull back slightly, just enough to study his flushed face, his eyes dark with desire but still carrying that hint of nervousness. "You okay?" you ask softly, your voice low but laced with an edge of teasing.

He nods quickly, biting his lip. "Yeah. Just... just don't stop," he says, his voice barely more than a breath. "Please."

Your chest tightens at the pleading in his voice. He's so eager, so willing, it makes your pulse race in response. "Do you want to keep going?" you ask, your hand slipping down to trail lightly along his side, testing his reaction.

His entire body tenses at the question, his eyes wide and searching yours as if he's making sure he's not imagining this. "Yes," he says quickly, almost a little too eagerly. "Please, don't stop."

You smile, pleased by his eagerness, and kiss him again, slow and deliberate this time, pulling away just enough to ask, "Are you sure? Because if you want to slow down, we can-"

"No!" Peter cuts you off, his hands reaching up to cup your face, desperate now. "Please don't stop," he repeats, his voice shaking with a mix of excitement and need. "I-I want this. I really do."

Something shifts in you at his words.

The way he looks at you, how vulnerable and eager he is, makes you feel like you're in control of this moment, but it's a kind of control that feels gentle, like you're both in this together.

You nod, lips curling into a smile as you trail your hands down to the waistband of his jeans. "Alright then," you whisper, your voice smooth, just the right amount of playful. "Let's keep going."

Peter watches, his chest rising and falling quickly with each breath as you slowly unbutton his jeans, his hands gripping your waist as if trying to steady himself. His face is still flushed, his eyes darting between your movements and your face. "I've never-never done this before," he confesses, his voice laced with nervousness and excitement. "I don't know if I can-"

"You don't have to worry about anything, Pete," you interrupt, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. "I've got you. Just trust me."

And without another word, you press your lips to his again, this time with all the certainty you feel in the moment, as your hands work to unbutton his jeans fully, slipping them off gently. His body reacts instinctively, his hips bucking slightly as you tease him through the fabric of his boxers, causing a deep groan to escape his lips. Even through his boxers you can tell he's huge, his bulge heavy in your palm. 

"Please," Peter murmurs, his hands now restless as they move to your shirt, pulling at it as though he's trying to keep up, his movements a little clumsy but full of need. "I want you-please, just-"

You smile at his desperation, slowly guiding his hands back to your waist, then leaning down to kiss his neck. "I'll make sure you feel good, Pete. Just relax."

His desperation and raw need tugs at your heart and ignites something deep inside you. His words are pleading, his hands trembling slightly as they cradle your face. It’s a beautiful contradiction—his strength as Spider-Man and the vulnerability he’s showing you now.

“Okay,” you whisper against his lips, your voice soothing but edged with a heat that matches the fire in his eyes. You reach for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head in one smooth motion, your bra following quickly after. You remove yourself from his lap briefly to take your pants off before straddling him again, now completely naked. You don’t break eye contact, watching his reaction closely.

The effect on Peter is immediate and overwhelming. A guttural moan escapes his throat, his hips jerking upward as though his body is moving on instinct. His hands drop to your thighs, gripping you tightly as his breathing becomes ragged. “Oh, God,” he murmurs, his voice thick with awe and hunger. His wide eyes are glued to you, his gaze flickering between your bare chest and your face, like he can’t decide where to look.

His hands twitch at his sides like he’s unsure what to do with them, his eyes fixed on your exposed skin with an expression so awed it makes you shiver. “C-Can I…?” he stammers, his voice shaky and full of longing.

“You can touch me, Pete,” you say softly, taking his trembling hands and guiding them to your bare waist. “Take what you want from me.”

His hands move hesitantly at first, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist and up to your ribs as though he’s afraid he’ll break you. When his thumbs brush the underside of your bra, you reach back to unclip it, letting it fall away. His jaw drops, and he inhales sharply, his eyes drinking in the sight of you like he’s never seen anything so breathtaking.

“Oh my god,” he whispers, his voice trembling as his hands hover over your bare chest. His gaze flicks up to yours, seeking permission, and when you nod, he finally touches you, his palms warm and tentative against your skin.

The soft, shaky moan that escapes him sends a wave of heat through your body, and you can’t help but arch into his touch. “Peter,” you murmur, your voice edged with desire. “You’re doing so good.”

The praise seems to embolden him, and his hands become firmer, exploring with a mix of curiosity and reverence. When his thumbs brush over your sensitive peaks, you let out a soft gasp, and his hips jerk upward again, drawing a soft laugh from you.

“Easy, Pete,” you tease, cupping his face and bringing his lips back to yours. “We haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet.”

His blush deepens, but the eagerness in his eyes remains as he watches you reach for the waistband of his boxers. You slide them down slowly, and when he springs free, your eyes widen in shock, your jaw falling open.

He’s massive, thick and hard, his tip already leaking precum. You let out a soft, involuntary gasp. “Holy shit, Pete,” you say, your voice a mix of awe and disbelief. “You’re… you’re huge.”

Peter’s face flushes deeply, and he looks away as if embarrassed. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” you cut him off, shaking your head. “But, uh… you’re definitely gonna have to prep me. I’ll show you how, okay?”

He nods quickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “Okay,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, his hands trembling slightly as they settle on your hips.

Taking his hand in yours, you guide it between your legs, pressing his fingers against the slick heat of your folds. His breath catches as he feels how wet you are, his eyes darting to yours in amazement. “Oh, my God,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing tentatively against you. “You’re so—”

“Yeah, Pete,” you interrupt, your voice laced with amusement and desire. “That’s all for you. Now, slide a finger in, nice and slow.”

He follows your instructions, his fingers clumsy but eager as he pushes one inside you. You let out a soft moan, rocking your hips against his hand. His jaw drops slightly as he watches your reactions, his own hips bucking upward as if he’s overwhelmed by the sensation of your body clenching around his finger.

“Like that?” he asks, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

“Just like that,” you reassure him, guiding his hand to add another finger. The stretch is delicious, and you can’t help but let out a louder moan, your head tilting back.

Peter’s breathing grows erratic as he watches you, his fingers moving more confidently now, curling inside you in a way that makes your toes curl. “You’re so tight,” he says, his voice hoarse. “I-I don’t know how I’m going to…”

“You will,” you promise, cutting him off with a kiss. “You’re doing so good, Pete. Just keep going.”

He nods, his thumb brushing experimentally against your clit, and you cry out, your hips jerking against his hand. The sound seems to spur him on, his movements becoming more focused as he learns what makes you squirm and moan for him.

Finally, when you’re trembling and breathless, you grab his wrist gently, stopping his movements. “I’m ready,” you whisper, your voice shaky but certain.

Peter’s eyes widen, his lips parting as he looks at you. “Are you sure?” he asks, his voice full of concern.

“Absolutely,” you say, positioning yourself above him and reaching down to guide him to your entrance. “Just go slow, okay?”

He nods, his hands steadying you as you sink down onto him, inch by inch. The stretch is intense, and you can’t help but let out a low, drawn-out moan. Peter’s head falls back against the couch, his mouth open in a silent gasp as you take him in.

“Holy shit,” you breathe, your hands gripping his shoulders for support. “You’re so… big.”

Peter’s hands grip your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin as he struggles to hold himself back. “You feel… amazing,” he says, his voice cracking with the effort of not losing control. “So warm, so—”

“Move,” you interrupt, your voice desperate as you start to rock your hips. “Please, Pete. I need you.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. His hands guide your movements, and soon the two of you find a rhythm, your bodies moving together in perfect sync. Each thrust sends a jolt of pleasure through you, the feeling of him filling you so completely making your head spin.

Peter’s moans grow louder, his hips snapping upward to meet yours as he loses himself in the sensation. “You’re… incredible,” he gasps, his eyes locking on yours, full of awe and devotion.

“Pete,” you moan, your nails digging into his shoulders as you ride him harder, chasing your release. “You’re so good. So fucking good.”

Hearing your praise seems to push him over the edge. With a strangled moan, his hips jerk up, his hands gripping you so tightly it almost hurts. You feel him twitch inside you, and the thought of him losing control sends you tumbling into your own climax, your body trembling as waves of pleasure crash over you.

The two of you collapse against each other, breathless and spent, your bodies still entwined. Peter presses a soft, lingering kiss to your temple, his arms wrapping around you as if he’s afraid to let go.

“You okay?” you ask, your voice soft as you stroke his hair.

He lets out a contented sigh, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Better than okay,” he says, his voice full of warmth and gratitude. “That was… everything.”

You smile, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Good,” you whisper, your heart swelling with affection for the boy who just gave you everything he had—and then some.

[genderqueerdykes]

i know this isn't exactly what you usually talk about but i need to ask somewhere and you seem really safe and kind about stuff.

I'm struggling to work out if i 'count' as physically disabled - because like most of my problems (fatigue, joint pains, weakness) are Not That Bad™️ and most of them would probably get a lot better if not go away completely if i did things like eat better and sleep properly and exercise more but between the aforementioned fatigue and pain and the autism and the having a 9-5 job and so on it makes it practically impossible to do those things anyway. Like yeah my weak ass legs would probably be better if i did exercise but i dont have the time or the energy.

But then also Something Is Up like i had back pain at age 5 - that's not normal. Nobody ever diagnosed it as anything i just went to a chiro a few times and got some stretches i rarely did because a) i was a kid and b) the stretches either didnt do anything at all, or were literally impossible. Like there were a few that were completely trivial and i could do to the maximum extension of healthy joints unless i was otherwise injured, and others where i physically couldn't reach the starting position - not even always because of pain but just because my joints physically didnt move that far. (I try to do the ones i can still at least sometimes but i've forgotten the ones that were physically impossible) So like there has to be Something up - a 5 year old does not get back pain for lifestyle reasons.

Idk. this is getting ramble-y i think but i just don't know what i feel and I'm so shit scared of doctors (for no good reason, they're just very stressful environments) that i haven't ever brought any of it up as an adult and so there hasn't been any attempt to do anything about it anyway but also i'll probably just get told to stretch and exercise anyway and as discussed that isn't always an option.

I read a fair bit of physical disability stuff and i sometimes reblog or engage with it a little bit if it's like 'oof ouch my back' or whatever that i relate to really obviously, but idk if I'm allowed to be in those spaces more obviously or what i should do about any of it either.

(ow. my hands hurt from holding my phone to type all that. that's getting worse too. not sure what's up with that...)

hello there!

generally i'd say that if you're experiencing joint pain, especially right as you begin standing on your feet and weakness, there's a very good chance there's an underlying issue. that's enough to say that you're physically disabled, as it's impacting your ability to work, stand on your feet, and so on. it's up to an individual to decide whether or not they feel disabled by their aches, pains and so on

definitely try to avoid chiropractors moving forward- most of what they do is nebulously helpful at best and damaging at worst. if you are able to do so, seeing a rheumatologist, orthopedist, physical therapist or kinesiologist. you may be able to speak to a pain management specialist in your area if that's necessary. you can get referrals to these types of specialists and appointments through your doctor.

best of luck in figuring out what's going on. i would say it sounds like that's disabling for you. i hope you're able to get some help for that so you can have an easier time. take care for now, stay safe

[madly-enthusiastic]

Uhhh, GUYS.

I think I wrote the first chapter of a Radioapple fanfic...

Just- Tell me if it's good, 'kay? It still doesn't have a name cuz it's a work in progress so, I'm still thinking of a name, I can't ask you for help with the name without telling all the story's AU so, I'll resort to the one thing I trust. My sister.

______

How much love can a parent express for its child?

If you asked Lucifer, he'd start rambling about how much his daughter is an amazing woman, already planning her own hotel with... redemption?

"Redemption, you say?" A voice Lucifer much liked and adored asked.

"Yeah... It's a bit silly and in my opinion, impossible even. But I trust her and I know she'll reach great lengths, heck, maybe Heaven itself!" He answered back, chuckling a bit. "I'm currently helping her to find a territory she can estabilish as hers, I could just give her a part of my territory but she says she wants to win something on her own. Regardless of what she wants or needs, I'm very proud of her!" He soon added, gesturing vaguely to the North as to show where the hotel was most likely to be constructed.

A comfortable minute is passed between them until the soft laugh from Lucifer's company interrupts it.

"Perhaps I'll visit it later."

​_______

Lucifer's dream was interrupted by the sound of his alarm going off, he groggily sat up on his bed before he slipped his hooved feet in his duck slippers. Another dream, another memory, I guess... Lucifer thought as he stood up, letting his wings strech so his back wouldn't feel sore later on.

He grabbed his phone and checked the messages he received. Satan's email for a new meeting... Charlie inviting me over... Goetias- He froze for a minute before he checked his phone again to make sure he didn't misread it. Charlie is inviting me over?!

Needless to say he cleared his agenda just so he could visit his daughter, it has been 7 years since they last spoke after... No! Don't think of that, Lucifer! Think of your precious daughter and how she invited you over despite years of not talking to her! Lucifer interrupted himself from going to dark memories.

He took a deep breath before he called her. Thankfully, Charlie picked up right away as if she was expecting her dad to call back.

"Oh! Hey Dad!" Her voice was like music to Lucifer's ears, it had been so long since he spoke with her, he almost forgot how the sound of his daughter's voice was!

"Hey Char-Char! I... just read your message, are you inviting me over to that hotel of yours? What was it again... The... Happy Hotel?" He asked, unsure if he got the name right.

"Ah, yes, dad! Actually, we changed it to the Hazbin Hotel! I had some help with the name!" She answered, happy that her dad remembered the hotel's old name, it meant that he was interested enough to learn it.

Thank Father. Lucifer thought, letting out a sigh of relief that didn't go past his daughter but she just laughed at it. "Sorry for the reaction, Char-Char... The old name was horrible, I never said anything 'cause I wanted to support you." He explained, chuckling awkwardly.

"It's alright dad! I don't blame you for that, the old name was... something, I guess? Well! What do you think of the new name? Is it hellish and ducking enough for you?"

Lucifer couldn't see Charlie's expression, but he was sure she was grinning while he blushed heavily. He felt embarrassed whenever his daughter brought up his ducks but he tried to ignore her teasing and focus on her question.

"Well... The Hazbin Hotel does have a nice ring to it! I also liked the joke... The 'has been' hotel, it's somewhat clever, I guess!" He answered, the joke was funny enough to make Lucifer laugh, it remembered him of the dad's jokes he used to do with Charlie and his friends.

"I'm happy you like it! Anyway, I was wondering if you could visit us! I mean, I know your agenda is kinda tight and you must be pretty busy with Hell and stuff but—"

"No, no, no! Don't worry about that, I didn't had much to do today," Besides a maybe important meeting with Satan about Hell's hierarchy. Lucifer didn't say that part out loud, though. "I can arrive there in, uh, let me check... Two hours! Is that good for you, Charlie?"

Charlie stayed quiet on the other side of the line before she started jumping out of happiness (Lucifer couldn't see it but he assumed she was jumping by the sound of the ground being hit by a pair of hooves many times). "Yes, yes! That's perfect, dad! It's enough time for me to clean up the place, arrange some decorations and—" She stopped to take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "... Thank you, dad. For everything, really."

Lucifer smiled as he heard his daughter. Even if he thought redemption was impossible, he'd have support Charlie no matter what, he loved his daughter and there was nothing that could change that fact. "Don't thank me sweetie, you were the one that achieved that. Not me, I just helped you through it."

"I'm still thankful, dad. You helped me when I need and you keep helping me whenever I need something... You're an amazing dad. I love you." Lucifer couldn't barely contain the tears that risked to fall from his eyes, but he held back until he answered he loved her back.

As Charlie hang up, Lucifer finally let the tears fall, they fell like a waterfall but he didn't try to stop them. His daughter still loves him after all, she still appreaciates all the silly things he did for her.

After a few minutes of crying, he wiped his eyes and checked the apple shaped clock on his bedroom. Two hours... He sighed, looking around the mess in his room. I could just teleport there but... I should get some things done before I visit Charlie, it's better to do it now than to do it later. And for the next two hours, Lucifer cleaned his room, organized his books, explained the situation to Satan, who was mad at him but he allowed Lucifer to postpone the meeting to Saturday. Thank Father...

When it was finally time to visit Charlie, Lucifer made sure to wear his best clothes. Charlie already knows me but what if she has residents there? Sure, this is Hell but it's better to be safe than sorry!

He took a deep breath before he opened the portal, staring at the hotel's door for two minutes before he stepped in.

It's time to do this.

____

AAAAAnd that's the end... It's more of an epilogue than a chapter, just to give a quick explanation on Charlie's relationship with Lucifer:

• Charlie and Lucifer's relationship is better than in the original series cuz Lucifer would have helped Charlie to create the hotel, they managed to bound through it

• Lucifer was an absent father, that is no difference, what changed was that his friends told him he should try to spend more time with Charlie and that's what he did

• Charlie and Lucifer stopped talking for 7 years after an event on both Charlie and Lucifer's lives that left them scarred, principally on Lucifer's side of the story.

And before you ask, there're some differences on my characters from the originals designs. For example: Lucifer has goat ears, Charlie has them too, both have hooves and it goes that way with many characters! Husk is the same cuz he's already perfect, Angel changed a bit and Nifty is... still Nifty.

Pretty please, tell me your thoughts about it!!

[aspenlovesdc]

A part of me is really tempted to write another fic of autistic Tim Drake because the first one I did a lot of people seemed to like it and I need to vent my frustration with society and sensory issues somehow lol.

It’s also because I want to write about the “ugly” side of autism. That’s not the best way to phrase it I don’t think but I can’t think of another way to describe it. I want to write about how overwhelming emotions are, about how you always know how other people are feeling but you can’t help them and how stressful that is, how isolating it is when you have to lie to people because when you try and explain why you can’t do something you’re treated like you’re lazy so you make up a “justified” reason so people won’t judge you.

Tim is a character I find it really easy to project that sort of stuff onto.

This wouldn’t be a sequel to “To be normal is my dream but it is impossible for me” because I’d rather just have it as a bunch of one shots so I don’t have to care about plot.

Anyway, I’m not promising that I’m definitely going to do this, it depends, but I have a hunch I probably will lol.

[muldersmeat]

Breaking the Rules

My Secret Santa gift for the poangpal gift exchange for @howlctts! Set soon after Momento Mori, Mulder is adamant that Scully can’t lose the fight against cancer. He invites her over to his apartment and tries to cheer her up in the most Mulder-Scully way possible: never actually talking about it. Also, there is a sketch I drew at the end of the fic.

AO3 link is here

—------------------------------------------

Lately Scully has been diagnosed with some impossible news.

Mulder wouldn't be so cocky and to say that cancer isn't real. But for Scully to die from such a thing? No, that can't be true. It just doesn’t make sense. The universe can throw so many trials at them but she had breezed through the odds against her like a goddess. Cancer simply does not have a chance.

He is a believer and to her is no exception.

It would be the first time back from the hospital, and Mulder decided to invite her over. Of course, he felt that for the best chance of success, he had to tempt her with the oh-so-intriguing mention of work, especially when he stressed to her that it was really important and needed her help (which is true, of course). To his relief, she fell for it hook, line and sinker, rolling her eyes and agreeing as long as he ordered from that pizza place with the "healthy option". Normally, Mulder really would want to actually look over the files and it would be a two-for-one deal, but if he was being honest with himself, right now he just wanted to hover without alerting her of the hovering.

They go through the dance of looking over the notes on the latest case but Mulder feels like an animal right before a storm. One part of him feels jittery, the feeling he gets when he wants to go for a run, but another just wants to just sit there and fret over his partner. He knows that if he fawns too much, she would spook, akin to an animal. This negative feedback loop causes him to not get much done other than read the same paragraph over and over again. It is an awfully good thing that it wasn’t his primary intention. Meanwhile, he glanced over at Scully and he was still shocked at how different her face looked to him already. He swears that her face is already more gaunt, and her eyes are more weary. Her beautiful hair, that is the same fiery colour as her spirit, has already dimmed and lay flatter on her head. While she still pointed out things from the reports, he swore there was an air of tiredness creeping from her voice. He felt his heart crack.

Thankfully, he heard a knock on the door for the pizza that he ordered earlier for them. He got up and winked at Scully.

“Well, I’d say we can pack it up, Scully. Now that we reviewed the case. I think we need to watch a dumb movie on tv to get the brain juices working while we eat beer and pizza. It’s an Oxford proven method.”

“Hmm…” Scully said, raising one eyebrow at him “ I think young men drinking beer and eating pizza in university is a tale as old as time for a different reason.” Still, she gathered up the paperwork for a place to put the pizza in front of the couch while Mulder went to pay the delivery boy.

She is just tired and devastated from the news, that's all. Just like her dying is all in her head, all the things he noticed about her was all in his. He gave a slight nod to himself as he picked out the movie, a godzilla movie from the “non-danger” stash tape stash. This one he recorded from a late night special a long time ago, and he hoped that he was on the ball with turning on the recording properly as soon as the commercials were over.

“No FBI warning on this one Scully.” He said as he put the tape in the VCR and pressed play.

“Recorded from the TV? You're a classified rebel, Mulder. The higher ups have an eye on you.”

“I know you like the bad boys Scully.” He said. She rolled her eyes and smiled as he settled down beside her.  “Besides, I know an FBI agent that can warn me about stuff I shouldn’t be doing.”

“Whether you listen is another thing.” Scully retorted

“That’s why they have me locked in the basement. My collection of questionable acts are too much for them to handle.”

Scully gave him a pointed look and Mulder coughed as he wiggled in his seat a bit. He did walk into that one. He opened up the pizza boxes and picked himself out a slice and was pleased when Scully mirrored him, picking up her beer in her other hand.

As the movie went on, his feelings changed, as two major aspected changed. For one thing he noticed with dismay that she didn’t really eat much of her pizza. Maybe a couple bites. While he was aware that Scully watched what she ate, she was still a healthy eater. Eating three slices after a rough day was a breeze for her, but she ate only enough to be considered “polite”. He tried to rationalize that sometimes people were just not hungry, but he felt the river of denial in his mind’s dam was starting to break.

Two she was snuggled up to him.

The moment of shock quickly dissipated to a feeling of protectiveness of her. She rarely reached out to him like this, and he felt warmth spread over his body originating from two places, one from the body heat as she was pressed against him, and two from his heart.

“Mulder, just don't say anything. Just hold me for a while.” She muttered so softly Mulder almost missed it. He shuffled sideways to face her, and placed his arms around her in a warm embrace. He felt her doing the same as the movie drew to a close. They sat in a comfortable silence, basking in each others warmth. A luxury that is always within reach, but rarely indulged in. He felt her breathing slow, suggesting she fell asleep. 

He cradled her in his arms, holding her tight. One day, he would be able to admit to himself that Scully is his world. But for now, the most pressing need is to be there for her. He felt that if he held her long enough, if he felt her warm body on his and her heartbeat, that would be enough. No one would be able to take her away. Not the higher ups at the FBI, not Duane Barry, not Donnie Pfaster, not Tooms.

Not cancer.

"Mulder?" A small voice asked

"Hm?"

"...You...?" She started then stopped.

It was then he realised that he had a tear down his cheek, and had made its presence known on the top of her head. He internally started to panic. Here he was, trying to comfort Scully, and this was dangerously close of going in the other direction. He took a moment to make sure his voice was stable and muttered as loudly as he could without his voice cracking.

"...Don't worry about it. The upstairs neighbours have a waterbed."

She stiffened.

"What?" She tried to pull away but he held her close for a little more.

"Yeah, this apartment... has a lot of rulebreakers. Their waterbed leaks sometimes."

"Their … waterbed." She repeated slowly. He could feel in the air that look that Scully got whenever he mentioned anything supernatural.

"Yeah, we aren't supposed to have 'em. Because they break and get water everywhere. The neighbours must break it with all the sinful sex they are having."

"Mulder!" Scully chastised.  He started to chuckle now, feeling the tension in the room dissipating like morning dew, and finally deemed his face worthy enough to let her go.

"It's true! I even heard they use the Lord's name in vain once." He tried to look at Scully as seriously as he could but he couldn’t help the faint smirk.

"Maybe it hasn't occurred to you that perhaps they just overfilled the sink? It would explain the water and the cursing." She had a playful gleam in her eyes

"Scully, nobody says God like that when they forget the water is on, but to be sure, wanna investigate it? I mean, waterbeds aren't allowed." He waggled her eyebrow at her.

"Mulder, landlord agreements or for that matter, how people break their contracts are not our jurisdiction."

"You're right. It would be our jurisdiction if it was apparitions that were having sex and breaking the waterbeds instead. Finding them would put the fears of the good waterbed resident rebels of this apartment at peace."

"Mulder, we aren't Ghostbusters!"  Scully quipped, still huddled next to him but folding her arms.

"Aww shucks Scully, and that was what I was rethinking of naming the X-Files."

"I'll put in a formal request for you."

"Oh Scully, you always go by the books. I was thinking of just slapping the name on the filing cabinet and calling it a day"

She shook her head while smiling as they fell into the beat of conversation, just like they did before the events of the last few days ever occured. It was more comfortable that way, to never talk about the elephant in the room, but rather the demons in the forest. Regardless of their partnership intricacies, there was something new that he felt that they never needed to discuss. That Scully would die of Cancer.

That is simply breaking the rules.

—----------------------------------

I hope you liked it! I haven’t wrote a fic in a loooong time (eight years?), but I am quite happy with this one! Howlctts said that she wanted some soft Mulder, msr and some cancer ark stuff. She said either vulnerable or him trying to be funny, so I tried my hand at both. 

As for the artwork, originally it was just going to be that and coloured, but … that was not going well T.T I am mostly an animal artist, haven’t drawn people much, and for some reason I found drawing Mulder really hard. I don’t get his hair for some reason? (this has been a problem in the past too lmao) and the pose I was struggling with. Originally it was going to be his back to us with Scully’s head on her shoulder, with the other hand holding a tissue (of blood for extra angst) but that wasn’t working. I couldn’t find a reference, and so I went with this instead. Despite considering myself an artist, not a writer, I found the fanfic easier to write haha.

I wish you all Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year!

[nickeverdeen]

SPOILERS FOR OBX SEASON 4 PT 2 BIG THICK FAT FUCKING SPOILERS!!!!

How do you think the OBX characters would comfort JJ's girlfriend reader after he died? Obviously he's not with Kie in this one.

Sorry, it’s kidna short, but I’m not really an expert in this

—————

How would OBX comfort JJ’s girlfriend after he died?

John B

John B would sit quietly with you, offering his presence rather than words, knowing the weight of losing JJ is indescribable

He’d be grieving deeply himself but would try to stay strong for you, sharing stories about JJ to keep his memory alive

He’d make a habit of checking on you daily, even if it’s just to sit in silence together

John B would feel an overwhelming need to protect you, almost as if he’s trying to make up for not being able to protect JJ

He’d suggest doing something meaningful to honor JJ, like visiting a special place he loved or doing something he always wanted to do

Sarah Cameron

Sarah would be the one to gently hug you and hold you when you break down, never letting go until you’re ready

She’d try to pull you out of your grief momentarily with small outings or lighthearted activities, but only if you were ready

Sarah would sit with you and share her favorite stories about JJ, focusing on the moments that made everyone laugh

She’d remind you that it’s okay to feel whatever you’re feeling—grief, anger, guilt, or numbness

Sarah would make sure you’re eating, drinking water, and getting rest, even if she has to physically hand you meals herself

Rafe Cameron

Rafe might surprise everyone by stepping up, offering you support in his own guarded way

He’d have a fierce desire to make sure you’re okay

He never liked JJ much

Rafe would tell you outright that losing JJ sucks and that nothing anyone says will fix it

Rafe would show his care by doing things for you, like running errands or fixing something in your house, so you don’t have to worry about the small stuff

Kiara

Kiara would be the first one to hug you tightly and let you cry until you couldn’t anymore

She’d gently remind you that JJ wouldn’t want you to blame yourself or anyone else, helping you work through complicated emotions

Kiara would take you to quiet, peaceful spots in nature—like the beach or a forest trail—so you could grieve without distractions

When you’re overwhelmed, Kie would remind you to take things one day at a time, offering practical advice and emotional support

She’d encourage you to talk about JJ when you’re ready, knowing it might help to keep his memory alive

Pope Hayward

Pope would try to help you process your grief logically, gently explaining that it’s okay to feel all over the place

He wouldn’t push you to talk if you didn’t want to, just sitting with you in a comforting silence

Pope would step in to handle practical issues you’re struggling with, like bills or chores, so you don’t have to worry about them

He’d make sure JJ’s memory stays alive, suggesting ways to honor him, like making a scrapbook or planting a tree in his name

Cleo

Cleo would be brutally honest but kind, reminding you that JJ would want you to keep living, even if it feels impossible right now

She’d hold you tightly when you needed it, her arms offering a sense of safety amidst the chaos

She wouldn’t sugarcoat things but would always make sure you knew she had your back no matter what

Cleo would remind you of your own strength, saying, “If JJ loved you, you must be something special. Don’t let anyone make you feel otherwise.”

[markantonys]

So bizarre to see fanboys jumping through hoops to find a way they can incorporate as many of Mat's plot points from TDR and TSR into their imagined version of s3 but NOT include Cauthor CPR. I'm sorry the cursed dagger on a spear makes you mad but you're okay with Min or Nynaeve saving him from hanging???

smh!!!! mat only does 1 important thing in all of TDR and TSR, and that is receive mouth-to-mouth from rand. and they would rather sacrifice that than any of his other stuff!

if it can't be rand, then nynaeve would be an okay substitute since she knows healing and hasn't had any chances for a good emotional moment with mat yet; however, imo if she has TOO many moments of successfully helping her friends via non-magical means, it would lessen the urgency of needing to break her block. thus, nynaeve saving mat with CPR would arguably be counterproductive to *her* arc of needing to break her block. (unless it instead is the trigger moment that causes her to break her block and she's thus able to heal him magically, but, while that's a sweet idea, it doesn't make much narrative sense for mat to be the one serving such an important emotional role in nynaeve's arc, no offense to him haha)

as for min, there's no need for the show to outsize her and mat's emotional connection i.e. they need to be good friends early on to make their series endgame work better, yes, but they do not need to be (and shouldn't be) each other's #1 most important emotional connection for two seasons straight. think of the heteronormative ship-baiting it would cause for show-onlys if mat and min had a focal emotional connection for two seasons straight culminating in her giving him mouth-to-mouth! ain't happening.

and all that being said..............as of now there's no reason to believe it can't be rand giving mat CPR! mat not being part of the waste storyline by no means precludes his doorway incident from occurring in a way that can involve rand. it could happen in the first couple of episodes before the gang's split up. it could happen in the finale with mat entering one doorway in tanchico and getting yeeted out into rand's lap on the other side of the continent because the pattern craves cauthor.

plus, with this scene being perhaps the single biggest and most iconic rand-mat emotional moment in the entire book series, i don't see why the show would instead give it to a different - and less important - mat relationship. (unless they absolutely had to because it turned out to be logistically impossible for it to be with rand, but, again, we have no reason to think that's the case.) if you look at the whole series, rand is more emotionally integral to mat and his story than nynaeve or min are, so why shouldn't he be the one mat has this big moment with? plus, if mat vs. couladin is in the cards for s4, iirc mat's implied motive there is that he intentionally hunted down couladin during the battle to help out rand even if he makes it sound like it was an accident, so s3 Cauthor CPR would set up a) how ride-or-die these two are for each other and b) mat feeling like he owes rand big time for saving his life, and wanting to do something major to return the favor.

overall, the fanboys often have really strange priorities when it comes to judging which book events are important to the overall story (Male Badassery) and which aren't (Everything Else), and their show predictions reflect those priorities very tellingly. i mean, my show predictions also reflect MY priorities very tellingly, but my priorities are a lot closer to rafe's than the fanboys' are, which hopefully leads to more accurate predictions. if you think a gay showrunner isn't going to do everything he possibly can to fit in the iconic-to-the-gays moment of rand giving mat mouth-to-mouth, you're kidding yourself!

[eldrichfuck666]

Back to be Away Forever

Hi, dear tumblr people. You probably think that you're having a fever dream or something - considering how long I have been away. A whole year off tumblr. A lot, I know. I missed you dearly, but I'm not really there to return. I just wanted to say something. Something very, very important.

First of all. I've come to realize that I am trans. So, hello again - now my name is Alexander. And I use he/him pronouns - from the April 19th of this year. I've come out to my parents, my closest friends and coworkers. I feel much more content with myself now.

During this whole year, I've been through a rather impossible journey - at least, that's how it seemed to me at first. (And btw, I'm now transitioning. Medically. I've had my breast surgery scheduled to the February of the next, approaching year. Took me... long to realize, did it? And it's all bs that testosterone makes you more aggressive or smth. At least, for me - I feel much more mature and at peace now that I don't silently hate my own body anymore. No more mood swings and outbirsts.

People who hate themselves (and sometimes, not even realize it, like I mostly did - I... I hated not just the body I was born into, but my race. It is... hard to admit, but I struggled a lot with the inner antiblackness that I had towards myself) tend to hate others more. Or... other living things. My hate wasn't directed at people, though - but at creatures that may seem less, but... they're not. I'm truly sorry about the whole insect debacle - I had a very disgusting attitude towards it, and I did know what I was encouraging here. It wasn't a mistake. It was a very, very disdiracted (or whatever is the word) hate and just... overall, not the right mindset. Horrible. Absolutely disgusting for an adult to have. I'm truly sorry. I regained the empathy that I should've had at the very start. I can't imagine how disturbing it was to read... all that. Truly disgusting. And while I didn't overcome the fear (for me, it is still a phobia that I can't really do much about - although, on meds I feel much less unnecessary hatred. Just terror. That's all. I apologize to every single person who has empathy I didn't have. I'm sorry for hurting and making you uncomfortable. It's absolutely shameful and shouldn't have ever happened.

And I fear that this hellsite (I know that it's how twitter is usually referred to, but... well.) made my mental health way, way worse - there's so much hatred, unnecessary drama and overally, not very good people... and for some reason, death threads and other scary, scary stuff that I couldn't react more gracefully to because of how dark was the place where I've been mentally. it would've been all much better if I weren't there in the first place. 2023 was... very, very bad for me. I know blaming it on social media is not very good, but it truly affected me terribly. I regret most of it. While it was a beautiful outlet for creativity, it was also very mentally heavy. Too heavy for me to lift at the time. I should've realized it earlier. I am so fucking sorry.

But... what I don't regret was meeting you. All, all of you still here - and those who have been here with me for some time. I know how unbearable I was sometimes, and I don't know how you (who stayed there) stayed with me longer than one post. One message. Yet... you didn't leave. And you're my very reason for the change.

And to my dear, dear friends, my beloved moots that I've made along the way - I love you all and I sincerely hope that you're in a good place and you're safe. Thank you for the support, for being with me when I was so very hateful, thank you for trying to make me see sense and have discussions. Thank you for being with me mentally thought the years I've been on tumblr. You... you made me reconsider my whole life. And I'm rather lucky that it happened in the start of my twenties - when I am still not so far gone. Each of you, I owe my heart and soul. ❤️

Пишу вам, с огромной любовью (и немного хаотическим сообщением, как обычно) и искренней просьбой о прощении, ��сандер (ну или... По русски, Сашка, наверное? Ужасно, я в курсе.)

P.S. Возможно, через пару месяцев или лет... Вы увидите знакомых персонажей на обложке какой-то неопределённой, странной недо-книги. Может, вы услышите о новом инди авторе - а может, нет. Я начал активно писать - и это оказалось куда более лучшим способом контролировать свой гнев, чем что-либо ещё.

Maybe, you'll hear a familiar name or see familiar features in the author. At first, in German - where I'm most confident in. But who knows... I can't promise anything, but I promise that I won't forget you. Forget your care, your guidance, your love for me... But I feel like the decision I've made is good for both me and all of you.

Because there's pleasant, necessity solitude in writing - I felt like I've regained my sense of self when I began. I have much to work on - especially when it comes to my own being and health. But I can't express this enough - how much you've changed me.

На этом, с любовью и горечью в сердце, я прощаюсь. Оба мои блога будут удалены через два дня - прямо перед новым годом. Thank you for everything. I will never forget you.

[sandraharissa]

I think when it comes to this discussion a lot of ppl also miss that Silco’s a wish fulfillment dad, especially for the mentally ill girlies. that’s why Jinx is also a bit obsessed with him just like irl fans.

Like e.g. when she killed the firelight all she said was ‘one of those firelight wackos was a girl with pink hair’ and when she failed to make the weapon she said ‘I keep seeing them. that day’. Like a typical troubled child she has trouble expressing what’s wrong with her and what she’s experiencing to ppl who don’t experience what she does and in a society that doesn’t have the language to describe it. In this way Silco is the perfect parent for her cos he’s naturally observant and well-spoken but also bcos he also had past experiences with severe mental issues. This is also probs why to an extent he projects onto her cos the similarities between their traumas help him guess what’s wrong, but he’s not always right and when that’s the case Jinx will not express it to him. Like she could have just said ‘I want to try to reconnect with Vi and I want you to help me’ cos that’s the case and it’s smth Silco tried himself with Vander but she’s not capable. When she stabbed him in the face she clearly felt really bad about it afterwards but she said nothing.

That’s why she complains in the baptism scene but then Silco drops ‘betrayal, that pain that feels like it'll eat you from the inside out’ and suddenly she’s listening. Cos he puts into words her feelings perfectly and most times understands her without her needing to explain herself, which is smth borderline impossible for her, which is smth no one else ever did or could do for her.

There's also the 'she can do whatever she wants' and 'he never gets mad at her when it matters' and 'he thinks she's perfect despite all her flaws and fuck-ups'. He's a well of understanding to her when she acts out, no matter how bad it gets, when ppl irl will say you're a weirdo if you exhibit mild symptoms of smth.

That’s what I’m thinking about when I think he was a perfect dad for Jinx. Cos he legitimately can do stuff for her that no one else can. But then there's also a flip side to all the positives, like Silco expressing her feelings for her and tolerating her violent outbursts is loving and in some ways helpful, but it also makes her more dependent on him and more isolated from others. If only they got to live in better circumstances.

if we define “good dad” by genuinely wanting what’s best for your kid, loving and caring for them unconditionally, being patient with them, making them feel valued, giving them the space to express themselves, encouraging their talents, and genuinely trying your best and doing what you think is best for them, then Silco was a good dad.

But if we define “good dad” by actually being able to properly parent and discipline your child, ensuring they aren’t a danger to themselves and others, teaching them healthy life lessons so that they can grow, not projecting your own unresolved trauma onto your child in a codependent way, and being a good role model, then Silco was NOT a good dad.

[inusmasha]

x

[teacupsandcyanide]

Something I miss from earlier eras of the creative side of the internet was things just being unabashedly low-budget. Just all unashamedly amateur, unprofessional, ‘I don’t own a good camera but I have a story to tell you’, ‘I can’t afford a good mic but I have a song to sing for you,’ ‘I don’t have any kind of background in editing or lighting and I only just picked up this guitar last Tuesday but here’s an entire musical me and my friends wrote about our favourite book, we filmed it on a potato and put it up on YouTube in ten minute segments because we thought it was pretty funny.’