#no one can fix me so i have to fix myself

[jenroses]

It is incredible to me how much My depression was most effectively treated by no longer being gaslit by shitty medical professionals. When I started getting diagnoses that made sense, rather than "we can't find anything wrong." Also "yes, we can help you".

Yes, antidepressants were helpful in specific situations. But invariably for me, the biggest depression trigger has been feeling trapped and unheard.

I do a lot of things for my mental health. I take the tiniest dose of otc lithium... Basically a "people where the drinking water has naturally occurring lithium experience less depression" dose (the pharmaceutical dose starts at 600 mg. I take 5. This seems to put a floor under me, so I don't always feel great but I'm not falling into the pit as easily)

I take a low pharmaceutical dose of duloxetine for nerve pain. It would probably be better if I could take more but I can't risk the drug interactions.

Fish oil seems to help stabilize my ability to cope a lot. Going off it for procedures really fucks up my coping ability.

and choline supplements seem to affect my general capacity for enjoyment of literally anything in life.

Magnesium affects a lot of bodily symptoms for me, mitigating my asthma from chronic to only triggered under extreme circumstances, and affecting my general tension level, as well as easing gut issues.

And by far, the most stabilizing factors involve treating my POTS with hydration and electrolytes and mast cell issues with substantial amounts of various h1 and h2 antihistamines. Because it's hard to get out of bed when you're dizzy and it's hard not to feel anxious when you itch and your heart is racing and you feel like there's nothing you can eat that won't hurt you.

For me, standard doses of one antidepressant or another got me past despair on several occasions but they're not fixing the very real issues making me miserable. The problem isn't my brain, it's my body and the world we live in, the brain is just doing its best and I'm trying to help it along.

Sometimes people need that one antidepressant lifelong, and that's fine. If you can feel substantially better with a single medication, yes, do that!

But for me, the side effects tend to be magnified, and most of my issues with depression are situational and/or treatable by other means. My diagnoses are autism, ptsd, adhd and anxiety, except the anxiety isn't really the thing where you feel anxious for no good reason, but because my life has a lot of things going on that literally if I wasn't worried about them people would be worried that I wasn't responding appropriately to situations that are literally anxiety provoking.

Accepting that, "no, I'm not depressed for no reason, this really just is this shitty" did wonders for my mental health in general. There's nothing wrong with my responses to the world, the world just is that fucked up. It is genuinely difficult to live in my body and anyone would have a hard time with this.

Pacing myself, setting boundaries, asking for help and treating the treatable things has gone a very long way towards helping my mood in general.

90s movies: Psychopharmacology is as good as a lobotomy. If you take pills to treat your mental illness it will literally murder your imaginary friends and you will become a boring, lotus-eating conformist drone.

Me after taking my meds: drives the scenic route home to see if there are any geese on the pond and does a little dance in line at the grocery store and comes home to throw everything​ in my fridge into a stew pot because I can finally taste food again while singing songs at my birds in which I replace all the instances of "she" with "Cheese" and doing a Dolly Parton impression on the phone to my sister

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

Can you pls do the Mingle game scene where Hwang offs player 343 but instead of player 390 witnessing it, it’s us?

Keeping you safe

Squid Game masterlist

Hwang In-ho/Frontman/Young-il x fem!reader

Cw: Death of player 343, mentions of players getting shot, slightly different from how it went in the series.

"Two."

Right after the voice stopped, you were suddenly grabbed by Young-il, who dragged you off towards an empty room. Almost there, another player bumped into you, causing you to lose balance, when another player tried running into the room you two were heading to, but Young-il was faster, grabbing the man and pulling him out, then quickly went inside telling you to get in as quickly.

Inside you discovered another player already inside, it was player 343, who looked stunned when he saw you two. Young-il's gaze instantly fixed on him.

"Get out." Young-il growled, and player 343 backed off against the wall.

"We were here first." He defended, but Young-il had enough and rushed over to him. The guy Young-il pulled out wanted to make his way inside, and you closed the door, keeping it shut, and turned to see Young-il holding player 343 in chokehold, slumped against the wall, slowly pulling him down with him as the counter was at 10 seconds left.

Looking at Young-il's face, it almost seemed like he had a smirk on his lips, but you couldn't make it out because of the dim light.

At this point all the other players were desensitized when it came to the others getting killed, but you were not. You didn't want this poor player to die.

"W-wait, Young-il, don't–"

But he didn't listen, instead, he snapped player 343's neck right infront of you, the sound echoed through the room, which the sound alone had your spine crawling.

The body of him was slumped against Young-il, just as the timer ran out, the lock clicked in place and the players still outside were shot by the guards.

"Why did you–" you stuttered.

Young-il dumped the body into the corner, standing up and let out a heavy breath.

"You know if I didn't do it we would be killed instead." he said, walking over to you, looking through the slit on the door.

"But you could have thrown him out..." you tried arguing.

His head turned a bit, it looked like the corner of his mouth quirked up into a smirk just slightly.

"And let the other asshole come in?" He turned to face you fully. "He was already inside. I could have just closed the door and leave you out there."

For once, you couldn't come up with anything else to argue, you knew he was right, but killing still didn't feel right to you.

"Listen," His hand came up, resting on your shoulder "I did it for you, to save you. And if it means killing another player myself, then so be it."

You swallowed hard, looking into his eyes as they softened while looking into yours. His hand went from your shoulder to gently grab your chin.

"From now on, you should stick close to me. I may be the only one here caring about you. The others would rather kill you, but not me." He spoke softly, holding eye contact with you the whole time.

His grip tightened slightly, letting you know he means it. "Understood?"

All the emotions inside you made you nod weakly in response.

Young-il released you, smiling and patting your shoulder. "Good. You'll soon see how much I care about you."

Then the speaker announced the games to continue, the lock on the door was unlocked leaving you both to get out and continue with the games.

You don't know if you should feel safe or not, knowing Youg-il would even kill for you if it means keeping you unharmed.

[so-i-did-this-thing]

im sorry this might not be the place to ask for advice/help but im doomscrolling about the news and the soon to be president and im seeing so much to be scared shitless about, invasions, removal of vaccines, cost of living increases, revoking of trans rights and how it might make it all the more impossible to get the surgeries i wanted... its just too fucking scary to breathe right now what do i do with myself

Hey, Anon. I'm here. A lot of us are here right with you.

It's scary, to be sure. And I'm not going to sugarcoat the possibilities of things going south very quickly. So, let's jump into some survival tactics.

This post on burnout is a great place to start. There is a lot of overlap with burnout and the anxiety you're feeling.

Allow yourself to slow down and unplug. You are allowed to step away from the news cycle -- events out of your control will unfold regardless.

Don't feel guilty by letting yourself relax. I find it especially helpful to do activities that don't involve the internet -- I've been decorating my house, mending broken crockery, and sketching some embroidery ideas. I try to take the time to get dressed and groomed every day, to remind myself that I matter. I spend more time outdoors.

As you find the ability to relax, you'll be able to focus better on the things you can do to be resilient. Things I have been doing to improve myself and make me a better helper:

Staying on top of my medical appointments and any preventive care I can do

Working to be physically healthier overall to mitigate future medical issues

Getting all my paperwork in order, including passports

Tweaking my financial budget

Researching what estate & family documentation needs to be done to protect my relationship in case my marriage gets dissolved

Brushing up on job skills, getting new certifications to stay competitively employable

Stocking up on my medical and general emergency supplies, especially for bad weather events

Getting in the habit of mindful purchases, curbing my habit of impulse shopping

Selling things I don't want or need anymore to have a little extra money and be able to move house easier, if need be

Building a habit of fixing/maintaining my possessions instead of trashing broken things

Canceling online subscriptions and quitting social networks that make me feel in danger

Getting my personal and any queer-related files out of the cloud and onto redundant solid state drives

Downloading / printing out queer resources and buying queer art that may be banned or monitored in the future

Enjoying physical media again and hunting for old favorites

Keeping in touch with queer friends and allies and making plans in case people (even myself) need to flee

Being visible when I can and knowing when it's best to lay low

Allowing myself the luxury to dig into things Old Me would have saved for "special" events -- aka, wearing the nice clothes and eating off the fine china as an everyday thing

Shutting the fuck up, especially online, when I think my words could be used against me

In a way, I am trying to simply become a better version of myself, one who is calm & self-sufficient, mindful about his actions, and available to help those in need. It sucks that the driving factor is fear, but I intend to use that fear as a catalyst to be stronger and survive.

There is a lot to be done, but there was always going to be work, new regime or not. But please, start with that burnout article so you can jump into your own plans with new hope and energy. ❤️

[summertimesadnessirl]

Someone else broke my life.

They should have to fix it.

I have repaired the damage of my shitty childhood and my shitty economic system and built a life I wanted to live like 3 times already.

I'm not doing it again.

If someone wants me to not rot in bed until I find a way to kill myself that sticks and is permanent for once...

Idk if this is a real ancient Chinese thing or something they made up for a shitty movie, but if you save someone's life you are responsible for them.

I feel like I am not responsible for what happens to me. I am not in control of my life. I keep saving my life and "doing the work" and in return not receiving personal autonomy. I'm not saying personal autonomy like blah blah blah toxic hyper independence you suck I hate you blah.

I'm saying I should be able to do the work and live alone and not have sudden random drastic fluctuations in my income, I repaired my credit and saved a huge emergency fund and lost it and now I'm in debt worse that before. I should be able to make friends and romantic liasons and business relationships with people where they don't fuck me over on the way out and they just wish me the best of luck. I should be allowed to be easily able to afford the things that make it easier to live with my disability without having to justify them to anyone and I should be allowed to tell people to fuck off if they are mean to me, and I should be allowed to know that if something is wrong in a social setting that people put on their adult underwear and tell me in words what is wrong before retaliation against me, and that my disability won't be used against me, and that I can tell people details of my life when they ask for them without having to worry that later they will intentionally use them to humiliate me, and I should be allowed to live in a society where we normalize the idea that people who follow the rules but use them to fuck people over are to blame for their own actions and the people who are pretending to be so hamstrung by the rules that they can't help are actually just as bad and the people who tell you it's your responsibility to do better and share dubious advice with you are on thin fucking ice.

Literally I built myself a little tiny micro version of that in my own life.

And then someone came and violated me and took it. And they did it in such a way that they will never face consequences and I have to know that no matter what I do, they could do that to anyone.

Building anything is pointless.

Saving my life is pointless.

Living has no value if it's only your breath and your lungs.

I'm not saying I won't work, I worked on my business for years before I got a dime, I worked 6 to 7 days a week when I had it running well for the majority of the time. I'm saying I'm not going to run at some fucking football and pretend that I'll be able to kick it this time.

The only thing I am willing to put the bare minimum of effort into is paying my bills and trying to figure out how to die in one shot relatively easily alone in my home.

I don't want to take anyone with me or die in front of anyone. And I don't want to heal. I did that. It took years and years and every time I got close and once I did, people just came along and retraumatized me.

It didn't even take much time or effort on their part.

So what I am going to do is die.

All of you are going to watch.

That's what you wanted.

You wouldn't be satisfied with anything else.

People have been coming at me and attacking me and spiting me and backstabbing me and betraying me and liking to see my cry my whole life.

Offering them something else hasn't worked. Hiding hasn't worked. Compromise hasn't worked. Begging hasn't worked. Therapy hasn't worked. Drugs, legal and prescription. Friendship, love, philosophy, religion, witchcraft, meditation, hypnosis, vice, virtue. None of it has worked.

You wanna torture me to death?

Here ya go.

If you didn't want to torture me to death, this wouldn't have gone on for three goddamn years straight.

If you wanted to not hurt me, you would have stopped hurting me when I said you were hurting me.

This was never what I wanted ot what I agreed to or what I asked for.

“no one else can save you” ok cool well i don’t want to do it. i do not view myself as worth saving anyway. godspeed

[nachrosas]

SLIDE TO LOVE | s.reid x reader

summary: you try to teach spencer how to roller-skate. pairing: spencer reid x reader content warnings: just spencer being a little drunk in this one! word count: 936 a/n: just a little fun day at park with spencer :)

It was a beautiful day. The park was especially alive there. Children's laughter echoed across the green fields, interspersed with the rhythmic sound of roller skates gliding across the asphalt. You were sitting beside Spencer on a bench shaded by a tree, watching the surrounding movement.

“Look at them!” you commented, pointing to a group of young people doing tricks on a small ramp. “I think they're competing to see who can get hurt first.”

Spencer adjusted his glasses, his curious gaze following their movements. “In fact, studies show that high-risk sports stimulate the release of adrenaline and dopamine, which can be considered a motivating factor. What's more, the likelihood of musculoskeletal injuries in sports like this is…”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't contain your smile. “Right. Dr. Reid, what about you? Have you ever tried skating?”

He blinked, clearly taken aback by the question. “Me? No, never. It seems… too unstable for me.”

“It's fun!” you insisted a little, standing up and tugging on his hand. “Come on, Spencer. It's time to add that to your list of extraordinary skills.”

He hesitated, but your piercing gaze made him stand up slowly, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder. “If I fall and hurt myself, it'll be your fault.”

“No problem! I'm a great instructor!” you assured him, guiding him to the small hut that rented out roller skates.

Spencer looked at the skates on his feet as if they were bombs about to explode. “Did you know that skating is responsible for approximately 100,000 injuries a year in the United States? About 33% of them involve the wrists, because when people fall, they choose their hands as a method of protection.”

You laughed, crossing your arms. “Okay, Dr. Statistics, but you're forgetting the most important fact: falling is part of the fun.” You took a step forward, grabbing his hands. “And besides, I'm here to make sure you don't become one of those 33%.”

He frowned, but you saw the corner of his lips twitch, almost forming a smile. “I can't be good at everything, you know?” he grumbled.

“Exactly! And that's why it's going to be so much fun to watch you stumble a little.” You winked at him and gently pulled him away from the grass, towards the asphalt.

As soon as the wheel of Spencer's roller skates touched the smooth surface, he staggered, his arms moving like uncontrolled propellers. You held on tightly to his hands, biting your lip to keep from laughing out loud. “Okay, okay, don't worry! Small steps, right? Let's try again.”

He nodded, his eyes fixed on his own feet, his expression determined. Every step was clumsy, and he stumbled a few times, but you never let go of his hands.

“You're thinking too much,” you commented, as you helped him regain his balance for the third time. “You have to relax, let the movement flow. It's like walking in sneakers! Only instead of sneakers, it's wheels.”

He looked up at you, his brown eyes shining with something other than frustration. “Relaxing? I'm not exactly good at it.”

You laughed, tilting your head. “Really? You don't even think so. All that genius and you can't take two steps without pulling me along?”

Spencer stopped, swaying slightly on his skates. “You know I'd do anything to see you smile like that, right?”

The world seemed to slow down. He said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, but the sincerity in his voice made your heart soar. A shy smile took over his face.

“Well, in that case,” you replied, squeezing their hands tighter. “You'd better keep practicing. Because I'm still not satisfied.”

He smiled back, genuine and full of renewed confidence, and took another step. Of course, he stumbled again, but this time your laughter echoed together, filling the park with a light and contagious joy.

With you still holding his hands, Spencer was able to glide with more confidence — or at least what felt like confidence. His movements were still clumsy as if he was learning to walk again, and that's when you realized that he was really trying. For you.

For a brief moment, he took three consecutive steps without stumbling, and you both celebrated as if he had just won a medal. But the euphoria was short-lived. With his next move, Spencer lost his balance, tripping and pulling you along.

You both fell to the ground awkwardly, but the impact was cushioned by the laughter that escaped your lips. You looked at him, who was now lying on his back, trying to catch his breath as he laughed more freely than you had ever seen before.

“I told you,” he said between laughs. “that it wouldn't end well.”

“Finish well?” you repeated, sitting down and holding out your hand to help him up. “Spencer, that was perfect!”

He accepted your help, taking a seat next to you, still with his skates on his feet. “If that's your definition of perfect, maybe I need to revise my standards.”

You gave him a gentle push on the shoulder, smiling. “You know, I think you're starting to get the spirit of the thing.”

He tilted his head, studying you with that look that seemed to unlock secrets. “Maybe it's because I have the best teacher in the world.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile remained. “And you'll need more lessons! Next time, no falls, okay?”

“Next time…” he repeated, with a slight curve to his lips, as if the mere act of saying those words was a promise.

[magical-reid]

Little Things

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 1K

Narrative Perspective: Third person limited (Reader’s POV)

Prompt: 25: “You bought me flowers?” “Yeah, well I noticed you’d seemed kinda down, so I wanted to cheer you up.” 

Summary: Feeling trapped in the weight of her own mind, you’ve spent days lost in a fog of hopelessness, convinced no one would notice. But when Bucky shows up at your door with a bouquet of flowers and no judgment, his quiet understanding pulls you out of your isolation, reminding you that you're not alone, and maybe, just maybe, there’s light even in the darkest moments.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt light.

Everything seemed weighted, from the gray overcast sky outside your apartment window to the simple act of breathing. Even getting up this morning had felt like scaling a mountain, each motion slow and deliberate, like you were dragging your limbs through molasses.

The world outside continued to churn—cars honked, people shouted, a dog barked somewhere down the block—but it felt distant, like you were underwater. It didn’t matter what was going on out there; you were stuck here, trapped in the storm inside your own head.

A part of you knew it wasn’t supposed to feel this way. That people didn’t sit on their couch for hours staring at the floor, lost in thought spirals that twisted tighter and tighter. That it wasn’t normal to feel like your chest was caving in every time someone asked, “How are you doing?” because the answer was always wrong.

I’m fine.

I’m tired.

I’m busy.

None of it felt true, but what were you supposed to say? “I feel like a hollow shell of myself, and I don’t know why or how to fix it”? Nobody wanted to hear that.

So you sat there, unmoving, as the afternoon bled into early evening, your apartment dimming around you. You didn’t bother to turn on the lights. Maybe it would be easier if the darkness just swallowed you whole.

A knock broke through your haze, startling you. It wasn’t loud or forceful—just two soft raps against your door—but it jolted you all the same. For a moment, you considered ignoring it. What if they just went away?

But the knock came again, and something about its persistence pushed you to your feet.

When you opened the door, Bucky stood there, his broad shoulders hunched slightly against the drizzle falling outside. His dark leather jacket glistened faintly with rain, droplets clinging to the strands of his hair where it curled at the ends. In his left hand, the metal one, he held a bouquet of flowers.

For a second, you just stared. The image didn’t compute—Bucky, who always seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, standing at your door holding something so bright, so cheerful.

“You bought me flowers?” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could think.

Bucky shifted awkwardly, his eyes darting to the side. “Yeah, well…” He scratched the back of his neck, looking almost sheepish. “I noticed you’d seemed kinda down, so I wanted to cheer you up.”

Something cracked in you at that. It wasn’t a clean break—it was jagged, sharp—but it let something through the fog. You lowered your gaze to the bouquet, taking in the vibrant sunflowers, soft daisies, and delicate sprays of baby’s breath. The yellows and whites seemed to glow against the gray of the day, like a stubborn little patch of light in an otherwise dark world.

“I…” You tried to speak, but your throat felt tight, the words sticking. You hadn’t expected anyone to notice. You hadn’t expected him to notice.

Bucky must have sensed your struggle because he took a hesitant step forward, holding the flowers out to you. “If you don’t like them, I can—”

“No!” Your voice came out louder than you intended, and you reached out quickly, your fingers brushing against his gloved ones as you took the bouquet. “I love them, Bucky. Really.”

Your voice cracked, and as soon as it did, you felt the hot sting of tears gathering behind your eyes. You bit your lip, trying to keep them at bay, but it was no use. One slid down your cheek, and then another.

Bucky’s expression shifted immediately—softening in a way that made your chest ache. He stepped closer, his blue eyes locked on yours, and you could see the concern etched in every line of his face.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “What’s wrong?”

You let out a shaky laugh, though it held no humor. “Everything?” you managed, clutching the flowers tighter to your chest. “I don’t know, Buck. I’ve just been… stuck. And it feels like I’m drowning, and I don’t know how to stop it.”

The admission hung in the air between you, raw and unfiltered. You hadn’t planned to say any of it, but once it started, it wouldn’t stop.

“I didn’t mean to dump all that on you,” you said quickly, lowering your gaze to the floor. “I’m sorry. I just—”

“Don’t.” His voice was firm but gentle, grounding you. “Don’t apologize. You don’t have to.”

You looked up at him, and the sincerity in his expression nearly undid you. There was no judgment, no awkwardness—just understanding. Bucky, of all people, understood what it was like to feel broken.

He reached out slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away, and brushed a tear off your cheek with his thumb. The touch was light, almost hesitant, but it made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t in a long time.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” he said, his voice steady. “I’m here, okay? Whenever you need me.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Thank you,” you whispered.

He smiled then—a small, crooked thing that made your chest feel a little less heavy. “Anytime, doll.”

For a moment, neither of you moved, the quiet stretching between you. Then Bucky glanced down at the flowers in your hands. “I wasn’t sure what kind to get. They just… looked like something you’d like.”

You let out a soft laugh, brushing your fingers over the petals. “They’re perfect.”

[d-oie]

well since she blocked me after begging me for a reply i'll write my reply here, im sure her defenders will send her a ss of what i said. first the comment :3

no one is hating on you nor is anyone saying youre not creative, ive said multiple times that i use to defend you myself and that i love your moodboards.. the original ones that is. i think you're a very talented person liia, but that doesn't take away from the fact you stole/copied/were heavily inspired. this whole thing was blown way out of proportion, you pretend you did these things like finding the images online and somehow it looks the same as someone elses saying that its just inspo but that is NOT what inspo is, ive seen you tag creators like n-americano when you're inspired by them, but what about these? and what about the images you take from others moodboards and have "images edited by me" in your moodboards knowing some arent, if you can credit yourself you can credit others. my post wasn't to turn the whole world against you nor was it to make you seem like a bad person, if thats how people interpreted it then so be it, i have an actual life and don't care if a bunch of people attack me online when i can just power off my device. my main objective was to wake you up. to make YOU realize you're in the wrong, sure it was also to bring light to the situation and let the creators you copied see what you were doing which I dont think is wrong. this whole thing couldve been avoided if you were apologetic, if you just said "hey, i see how these moodboards look very similar along with some of my others, i apologize and this will never happen again." instead you and many others dragged it. i was genuinely willing to hear you out and talk to you in dms but since you blocked me i can't.

my response to your dm

you never clarified you didn't steal from others, those past accusations never came with evidence so you could have easily brushed it off, you saying that you were just inspired and that these images don't belong to anyone isn't what your situation is, inspiration doesn't compare to what you're doing, what youre doing is plain plagiarism. you want to sit here and tell me "i didnt mean to copy" when i can clearly see y-unjins moodboard in yours. i tried to give you my respect since i'm also a "content creator" but you keep giving the same excuse when you know youre in the wrong, then you assume i want to start drama like i live on it, sweetie no, not everything is to attack you, if someone believes you've done wrong and you're not taking accountability for your actions you will be called out. why should i turn a blind eye when i know the hard work someone went through in order to make their moodboard just for you to take the images? im not saying its illegal for people to use one or two of the same images from another moodboard but youre on a whole new level, you're mad i'm posting about this but imagine the creator's you've stolen from. the thing im mostly confused about is why, why would u steal from others creators when one, youve been called out for this before, and two, you're moodboards and dividers are beautiful, so you have no reason to steal from others when YOU yourself dont want people to steal from you and you have your own form of creativity. and again its you talking about how "if taking inspo is copying then everyone would be copying" ... like do you not understand the situation youre in? you know youre in the wrong and this trash ass excuse aint getting you nowhere.

im not even gonna go in on this, if you cant reply to your ask truthfully why would you reply to my dm truthfully? if you were mature enough to admit your wrongs instead of going on a whole rant about why your friends hate you then this post would have never existed. how hard is it to admit your wrongs and start anew? i get it, everyone makes mistakes, but everyone can always own up to and fix their own mistakes.

i guess im evil for bringing the truth to light, if this were to happen to me ID OWN UP TO MY MISTAKES. yes taking inspo isnt bad but if it gets to the point i get called out for copying when i personally believe i was just being inspired by others id apologize and see what i can do differently, since ya know, im at that point in life where i can admit my wrongs, you on the other hand did not do so and tried to pretend it wasnt an exact replica. my post wasnt to bring hate or spit on your name, if anyone sent you aggressive comments then you have the action to report or block them, i cant control what people say, damn i can rarely control what i say, and i dont know where youre getting the idea that i hate you when i never once said that and i actually said this not only once, not twice, not thrice, but multiple times that i use to respect you, you were one of many creators that i would defend with my life, you use to inspire me, now i feel nothing, just disappointment which is what a lot of people feel, that doesn't give you the right to guilt-trip your mutuals, like what your "defender" said, moots are like real friends, once you lose their trust its hard to gain it back, if you really cared you wouldn't have allowed this to get blow way out of proportion and would have just admitted your wrongs, hell when you dmed your entire following list you should have explained the situation to them rather than trying to make them feel bad for how THEY feel about the situation. then you have the audacity to say "dare to tell me to my face rather than being a coward" as if youre not one? you escalated the situation, youre the one who's been sitting on your ass feining for my reply, crying to your moots how they're bad friends for believing this even though theres full blown evidence. im not a coward, i had the balls to post this knowing you'd see it, you're acting as if i was leaving you in the dark, like i didnt think you would ever see this post, like i was plotting on your downfall behind a secret account. "think before acting" how about you follow your own advice before trying to give advice to others. thanks.

i didnt want this to go this far, i believed that once i posted this you would admit your mistakes and change for the better, i didnt unfollow you because i wanted to see you continue to grow and continue to be the amazing creator you are without the copying, but i guess that was just a fairytale and i have to face the reality of randos on the internet not being able to take accountability.

Hi guys, it's come to my attention that someone in the moodboard community known as lil-liaa has been copying / taking heavy "inspo" from other creators like @y-unjins and @iluvrei view more for more info + evidence + my opinions on the whole situation

before i start, i'm not trying to run lil-liaa off the platform nor am i trying to stur up drama, this is just to bring light to the situation as not many people know and many people (including myself) defended her when this first happened, i also want liia to realize that what she's doing isn't right and that she shouldn't just brush off "accusations" like these when there is evidence.

proofs

you can see the similarities as lil-liaa used 3 of the exact same pics as iluvrei's including one edited by the original creator without adding credits to the post.

2nd

here you can instantly tell that the moodboard was copied (lil-liaas on the right being an exact replica of y-unjins), only changing 2 pics excluding the idol change and

3rd / last

lastly, you can see how one lia used the exact same divider (+ didnt give creds), two she uses the same images not only in the moodboard but also in her gif (same pics from y-unjins moodboard including the png)

now, lil-liaa was sent multiple anonymous ask from last year and one recently accusing her of stealing moodboards, although a lot of people defended her last year including me due to the ask having no sorts of proof of moodboards being stolen and no one else speaking on it but now the recent ask she has received included proof and her response to it was very (in my opinion) rude and just sounded like she didn't care.

in my opinion, i don't believe this was just a draft she had premade and i don't believe she somehow got the same exact photos from y-unjins moodboard recommended, i believe since this isnt the first accusation and now there's proof of this i believe she has been copying moodboards since last year when she was accused. i don't believe lil-liaa cares about this, the fact she's stealing from other creators and when she gets called out for it she pushes it off with the same excuses

tags

@miujo @rkkuri @lvioung @ciestial @aeraras @sugarish @gyareii @i-kyujin @daddldee @i-mmaculatus @haerinism @chaeryeos @bloomqi @h-yeoni @p-oisn @bitchey @yeritos @yonkiibums @y-vna @y-urios @fairytopea @shuaver @yeoniis

[farfromstrange]

One Soul | Matt Murdock x Reader

Matt Murdock Masterlist

Summary: Matt gets hurt, badly, so you have to do the one thing you promised him you wouldn't: take him to a hospital.

Warnings: Angst, life-threatening injury, blood, temporary Major Character Death (he comes back, don't worry), mentions of CPR, religious imagery, conflicted relationship with religion, Reader is described as an atheist but Mad At God, prayer, hurt/comfort

A/n: This is a little angst piece I came up with yesterday. For me, personally, my atheism isn't always black and white. I know I don't believe in God, but I have found myself cursing him in the past because it was easier than cursing something I did not understand (like the death of a loved one). And I just know that being with Matt, chances are he will get himself hurt badly enough one day to the point he has to be brought to the hospital.

Read Me On AO3!

The heart monitor beside the bed signals at a steady eighty beats per minute. You follow the many lines of tubing from the machines to his frail body, your eyes lingering on the purple bruises adorning his pale skin—deadly pale, it is. 

His cheeks, once so full of life, are hollow now. His eyes are swollen, his pretty lips cut, and there is blood stuck to his hair, still, soaking through the bandage they applied. You’ve never seen him so broken, so utterly weak and fragile that you wouldn’t dare touch him. The tears refuse to stop falling. 

Years ago, you made a promise. You promised never to take him to a hospital, to protect his identity and him. Hell, he survived the collapse of Midland Circle, albeit with a scattered mind. He had broken bones and a broken spirit, locked away at Clinton Church for weeks, and still, he survived.

Tonight though, for the first time, you felt his heart stop. It wasn’t one of those ghastly nightmares that have been plaguing you ever since you locked Fisk away and he finally came back to you. It wasn’t a product of your imagination; you felt his heart stop. Hands covered in blood, you watched as the life drained from his eyes and he breathed out without breathing in again. 

You swear you can still feel his ribs breaking underneath your fingertips. “Don’t do this to me,” you cried. “Don’t you dare do this to me, Matthew! I can’t lose you. Please, come back. Come back!”

And you prayed to a God you don’t believe in not to take him from you. You begged for a chance to hear his heartbeat again, just one last time even if it kills you. 

You looked to the sky and swore you’d make a deal with the devil if you had to. You’d do anything for this man; this reckless, stupid force of a man you are so in love with that it hurts sometimes. You would’ve let God crucify you for the whole world to see just to get a chance to look at your beloved Matthew one last time, to know he’s alive. And perhaps God did answer your prayers, or maybe the CPR you’d never done before did its trick for he suddenly took a breath, and his heart started beating again.

You cried over his body like Mary over Jesus. You shielded him as if that would heal him, and he clung to you when he realized what had happened. He coughed, and he was bleeding, and you were paralyzed with the fear of losing him again.

What else were you to do but take him to a place where he could be fixed? If you hadn’t brought him here, he would have died. You shouldn’t feel guilty. It wasn't selfish. Yet, the fire within you keeps burning, and your soul keeps hurting as you watch him like a hawk, wondering what he’ll think of you once he wakes up—if he wakes up. 

“I know I’m not… religious,” you murmur, eyes directed at the ceiling now. “I’m not a good Catholic, far from it. I’ve done things… well, you know. And I don’t pray. Matt prays. I don’t,” you say. “I just wanna understand why.”

Another tear rolls down your cheek. The coil in your throat is tight enough to strangle the air from your lungs. One of the shards of your broken heart is stuck, and now you’re bleeding. Your soul is laid bare for everyone to see. 

It’s pathetic, you think, for an atheist to pray. Because you don’t believe, you never have. Matt believes. He has faith. You’re just… angry? Yes, you are furious, and even more now than ever you feel like it’s all a lie. Where’s the hope? Where’s the faith now?

“Why do you keep letting bad things happen to him?” you ask, your voice breaking. “All he’s ever done is try to please you because he thinks you gave him some kind of purpose. That accident… he thinks it happened for a reason. Going blind, losing every one. After all the hardships and the trouble he got himself into, he thinks he’s some kind of soldier. Even when he was at his lowest and stopped believing, he eventually came back to you. Like a dog on a leash.” 

If Matt heard you, he’d be deeply offended. Religion is so important to him, but tonight, he almost died. He almost died before, but it never felt as real as it did tonight, and the thought haunts you like a restless ghost. 

“I want to be supportive, I do. I mean, everyone’s beliefs are valid, in a way, but it almost killed him tonight. If you’re up there—if you’re truly listening—how can you just let that happen to someone you claim to love, God? I don’t–” You shake your head. “I just don’t understand.”

The heart monitor keeps beeping. The lights keep flickering. His chest keeps rising. No answer. The disappointment cuts you deep. Is there perhaps a part of you that does want to believe? Or are you just looking for someone, something, to blame? Instead of the men who did this to him, instead of the men who quite literally took him apart, you’re turning to the one thing you can’t touch. But you know it’s not what Matt would want. He’d want you to have hope.

How does one go about that when everything seems to be going wrong? When your very heart is lying in a hospital bed? How does even an atheist not curse God out of pure and utter desperation? 

Matt lets out a soft groan, and your eyes flick to him. Your heartbeat accelerates at the same time as his. 

“Matt?” you ask, inching closer to the edge of the bed.

He stirs. Every muscle and bone in his body is filled with a dull ache. First dull, then sharp. The stitches in his abdomen pull at the tender flesh with every breath that fills his lungs, the oxygen so rich and concentrated it almost sets him alight. The plastic tubes weigh heavy on his nostrils. 

His eyes pulsate, and there is this obnoxiously loud beeping in his ear. It’s screaming, almost. Beep, beep, beep. Faster and faster, and faster. But his eyelids are so heavy he can’t open them. There’s nothing but fire, and for a moment he forgets that he hasn’t been able to see for decades. 

In his head, he’s eight years old again, his head wrapped with a bandage that itches his skin so terribly, and the world around him screaming. It’s the same room, it seems, cold and dark and terrifying. 

Matt reaches for his eyes, fingers brushing against the bruises that resemble the shape of a fist—no light. He can taste copper on his tongue. The beeping gets louder and his ears are ringing, and why is the blanket made of sandpaper? He wants to tear the skin off his weary bones.

“I can’t–” he breaks off at the foreign sound of his voice. Another trace of his fingertips against the bruised skin. “I can’t see,” he chokes out.

“Matt!” you say a little louder, your hand finally touching his, and it’s as if the bubble he’s in bursts. 

He recognizes your voice. He remembers he’s blind. He remembers going out last night and kissing you goodbye. He was in good spirits then. But something went wrong. Somehow, his opponent had weaponry that could easily break through the protective material of his suit. He stood no chance against the number of men coming at him. They sliced and they hit, and he thought he saw God, but it was just the swinging ceiling light inside the abandoned factory building. It smelled of mold and water. 

He fought until he couldn’t bear it anymore. Until the opportunity to flee presented itself, and so Matt crawled home to you. With every last ounce of strength, he honored his promise to always come back home to you. 

He doesn’t remember much more, only falling down the stairs to the rooftop access to the living room. The crash. Your gasp. Your heartbeat. And then, nothing. Nothing but the comfort of darkness. 

“Hey,” you smile through your tears, “It’s me. You’re okay.”

He whispers your name, and you squeeze his hand.

“I’m here. Try not to move,” you tell him. “You’re at Metro General.”

The word makes his breath stutter. “The hospital?” he inquires.

“Yes. You were hurt… badly. They had to take out your spleen. Fifty-something stitches. Some brain swelling. I don’t know, it’s a lot.” 

“I told you,” he grunts, “no hospitals.”

Matt Murdock is not an ungrateful man. However, his words cut deep. You can’t take much more.

“You promised, no–”

“You died!” you cry out. The echo bounces off the walls and resonates in his ears like the sound of a bomb going off. 

“You died in my arms and I had to–” You look at your hands, stained with blood, “I had to break your ribs to bring you back. Your bones… breaking,” you cry. “You died and I thought I was gonna lose you, for good. You can blame me for breaking a stupid promise, but if I hadn’t, I’d be preparing a funeral now!” 

His head tilts in his direction—you’re serious—and his defenses fall like an iron curtain, shattering like glass. The sound of your voice in such a state of disarray, death by a thousand cuts. 

He almost died. Or, he did die, and you brought him back, but the things you had to do for that… you brought him back, but it hurt you. He hurt you. He swore he would never do so again, only over his dead body, yet it was his dead body that almost broke you. 

Matt never wanted any of this to happen. The love of his life, traumatized. What kind of man does that? Surely the kind of man that no one but the one person he never deserved mourns when he’s gone. 

The silence drags on, suffocating you. “Do you get that?” you ask, barely above a whisper. “Do you get that I’d die without you?”

“I’m so sorry,” Matt whispers. “I don’t remember…”

“Of course, you don’t. You’ve never been this hurt.”

“Sweetheart.”

“I would’ve traded your life for mine if I could’ve. I tried, Matt, I did. I prayed to God and told him to take me instead while I was trying to get your heart beating again. And I blamed Him for doing this to you ‘cause I didn’t know who else to blame.” 

His fingers brush against the back of your hand. A nurse kindly lent you clothes from the lost-and-found, but you can still feel the sticky substance on your skin, crawling like a parasite.

You shudder. “If you hadn’t woken up, I–“ 

“C’mere,” he says. 

Beep, beep, beep, goes the heart monitor, and sirens wail outside his window. 

“I can’t,” you whisper back.

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Sweetheart, you could cut out my heart and I’d still want you.”

A shiver runs down your spine, settling in the pit of your stomach. You feel so sick, so detached from everything and everyone, but the piece of you that you almost lost is right there, and he’s alive.

He’s alive. 

You have to keep reminding yourself of the fact. His heart is beating. His lungs are filled with air. Those last few hours might have felt like a proper nightmare, but you made it through. He made it through. 

“Please,” he pleads. “I… I need you.”

It’s different now. He’s not asking to hold you for your comfort but his own, and without another second thought, you climb into the tiny hospital bed with him. 

Matt seeks out the comfort of your chest, but he’s aimless in his agony. You gently guide his head to your heart. Touching him, feeling him so close to you, melts away the last of your fears.

“You scared me,” you confess.

He exhales. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just… promise you’ll live for me.”

The silence wraps a noose around your neck. But then, “You own my heart,” he says. 

“So?”

“Yeah, I’ll live for you.”

Those four words mean more to you than a promise to die for you if push comes to shove. Because what are you supposed to do without him? You’d rather he try everything in his power to live for you than leave you. 

“If you live for me, too,” he whispers then, and a tear runs from his cheek down your chest. You can’t survive without him, that much is certain. That may sound like a state of unhealthy codependency, but when two people share the same soul, every breath one breathes sustains the other. There’s nothing you can do about that, nor would you ever want to.

“Without you, I’d–” he cuts himself off. 

Without you, he’d be lost. Without you, even in death, he would not be able to find peace. 

“I promise,” you manage to say, although the words come with a fresh flood of salty tears that mix with the ocean of his. 

He relaxes into you. “Thank you.”

As he falls asleep in your arms that night, you find yourself staring up at the ceiling again.

“Don’t fail him,” you whisper. To God, to the universe, to the moon and Saturn, and to yourself. 

matt murdock angst tag list: @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @thychuvaluswife @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @thatonegamefish @amberritonicole @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @winkev1 @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @xnatyx @zomtart @steve-chandler @lucienofthelakes @mochie-is-a-librarian @buckyssugarchick

[456-is-the-way]

Hi! I was wondering if you if you could do a smutty In-ho x fem! Reader x Gi-Hun. Something along the line of they are both pining and see each other go to talk to reader alone and decide to wait. In-ho talks to her during lights out and Gi-hun talks to her doing mingle. In the final fight, she goes with either in-ho or Gi-hun and the stand of at the end, ends with them deciding to truce for a moment and share reader.

A/n: OMG A smutty story with both the hottest daddies!? Yet people keep the requests coming because I have many more to write! I hope to post at least 3 stories a week only because I am returning to my job after my holiday vacation! ALSO regarding the TAGLIST IDK why it won't let me add people like some it won't bring their name up SO I am not sure how to fix that RIP Im sorry y'all!!! ALSO, late tonight or tomorrow my part 1 of my 4-part Gi-Hun story is coming out!! (Hints of In-ho x reader) will also be in the story! Next week I'll have 3 more requests stories done!

Trigger warning: SMUT

Squid Game Masterlist

In-ho x Reader x Gi-hun

Love and War

Being in the games was the last thing (Y/n) was expecting, or at least in a life-or-death situation. She took a breath, looking over the group she was lucky enough to be in. Gi-hun did not hide the looks in her direction. Her (e/c) orbs meet his. (Y/n) could feel her cheeks warm up as Gi-hun winked. She turned away, looking at the ground quickly. How could two people be so obvious in their lustful looks? Their group quickly picked up on their subtle hints, flirtatious works, mindful touches, and lustful gazes. However, it sparked a rivalry between Gi-hun and his newfound friendship with Young-Il. The other gentleman also expressed his feelings towards (Y/n), which did not go unnoticed. (Y/n) happily reciprocated the attention she received from both of these handsome bachelors. It was lights out, and as normal, their group gathered in one spot, taking turns on night shift duty. Many thought of them as one of the strongest teams for now. In-ho sighed deeply as he was woken by Jung-bae. “Your turn.” He whispered. In-ho only responded with a grunt getting up to take his place by (Y/n). In-ho looked over her figure. It honestly pained him to lie to (Y/n) of all people. While scouting for participants, he would collect all their data and reasoning for poor financial situations. He never showed favor or pity towards anyone until now. Why did it have to be her of all people?

“I can take watch by myself if you need me to. I want you to have all the rest. Especially for the next challenge… I am nervous to find out what it may be.” In-ho whispered. She gave him such a warm and loving smile. In-ho had not felt butterflies like this in his stomach in so long the feeling was almost foreign. The way her eyes would almost sparkle while gazing into his. In-ho felt his breath be taken away every time.

“No, I won't allow you to not have a partner. We agreed on pairs of two. I am going to be fine. I could say the same for you, Young-Il.” She gazed into his eyes and before anything else could be said In-ho leaned in kissing her deeply. (Y/n) gasped but did not pull back once his warm lips dominated hers. In-ho cupped her cheek before letting his hand trail down squeezing her beast. “W-Wait.” Her voice seemed weak from the desire but quickly In-ho stopped all his advances.

“Fuck (Y/n) I am so sorry if I hurt you.” His eyes showed nothing but absolute worry.

“Young-Il, you didn’t hurt me. I just. We cant I-”

“You love Gi-hun. Don’t you?” He asked.

She looked away rubbing her temples. “I am unsure who I like. I have feelings for you both but if we act out on them… If you or him dies I would never be able to get over your death, or is..” She leans against In-ho resting on his shoulder.

“I understand…I love you.”

“I… I love you as well.” (Y/n) whispered cuddling into him.

….

After the night the next game had started early that morning, and (Y/n) had not been expecting what was to come. As the game commenced it felt very intense making sure the groups had the correct amount of people in each room. They even teamed up with new players they clicked with instantly. As it began getting lower in numbers for each door (Y/n) became nervous. She felt Gi-hun grab her hand gently. “I got you.” He whispered. Once the merry-go-round stopped and the number was ‘2’ he instantly took off with her ultimately forgetting about any of the others. Even shamelessly (Y/n) did not even look back for In-ho. Once in the room the door instantly shut. The female leaned against the wall as Gi-hun was breathing heavily on the other side of the room, “Gi-hun, are you okay?”

Gi-hun did not bother to answer before walking over to (Y/n) and kissing her deeply. The female lets a shaken moan out as their bodies are pressed against each other. His hands hold her waist before lowering down her backside and cupping her ass. “G…Gi-hun, babe, we cant.” Her body was on fire for this handsome older man.

“You love me… I know you do.” He let you go resting his forehead against yours.

“I…I do love you. I have since the moment I laid eyes on you. I can’t be with you Gi-hun. I wont risk getting attached-”

“Is it because of Young-Il? Is that the true reason? I heard you both talking last night. I know you have feelings for him of some kind… I want to know if he-”

“No, my love it's not because of Young-Il… I care for you both but if I got too attached and lost either of you I… I wouldn't be able to ever move on.” When the doors unlocked she took his hand, “Talk later okay?”

Gi-hun nods walking out as their hand in hand. In-ho instantly noticed and sent a glare at Gi-hun who met his gaze with a stronger one.

…

(Y/n) was soaked in her friend's blood as she was on her knees. Gi-hun and Jung-Bae beside her on their knees. In front of them stood a man who organized the games. With a quick hand motion from the man in the black mask, Jung-Bae was pulled away. Gi-hun went to help but a gun was quickly pulled out.

“Don’t” (Y/n) begged, tearing up. Her eyes widen as the gun slowly is lowered.

“I love you (Y/n).” The Front Man whispered she glared into his eyes.

“I hate you.” She glared. In-ho took a moment before removing his mask. Both (Y/n) and Gi-hun gave his a look showing all their bundled up emotions. “You… are the Frontman. HOW COULD YOU!” (Y/n) cried loudly .

In-ho leans down, “My real name is In-ho, I joined yes, but I never expected to fall in love with you! Please… Let me have you before anything else happens… Gi-hun.” He turned to his friend who reluctantly nodded they both desired you and that over powered all current feeling. The triangle guard let Gi-hun free before leaving.

“Please lets forget about all of this. For a few moments.” Gi-hun adds agreeing with In-ho. What felt like eternity she agrees.

Gi-hun instantly pulled her against his frame smashing their lips together. In-ho kneels down pressing against her back side kissing up (Y/n)’s neck. The female moaned loudly into the kiss as her body is sandwiched between theirs. “Fuck.” She gasped as Gi-hun trailed down to the other side of her neck. In-ho proceeded to slides his large hands under her shirt cupping her bare breasts. Her nipples already were hard. “Ngh! (Y/n) whined as he pinch them roughly pulling her buds harshly.

“Take her shirt off.” In-ho growled.

“Slide her pants down.” Gi-hun adds. (Y/n) had no time to react before her shirt was being lifted and sweatpants pulled down swiftly. Once practically naked she puts a hand on their bulges rubbing both men. They let out a shaken groan each, Gi-hun’s voice held a submissive tone while In-ho growled dominantly. Their already hardening cocks were at full attention. Gi-hun’s leaking precum at the tip. In-ho leans his forhead against (Y/n)’s shoulder cock twitching as she worked both touch starved men.

“F-Fuck I’m close.” Gi-hun whined.

In-ho chuckled,” Baby slow down before he blows a load in your hands. Let us inside of you.”

“MMmm… But will b-both fit?” She asked inhaling as Gi-hun reached down feeling her soaking wet panties.

“Fuck you are soaked honey. Did jerking us off turn you on that much?.. Yes dear we will both fit.”

(Y/n) nods and spreads her legs, In-ho nods to Gi-hun, She arches, feeling both their cocks brushing her entrance. “AHH FUCK Gi-hun. In-ho!~” (Y/n) was held up by the men who began roughly thrusting into her tight and warm pussy.

“Fuck baby you are tight.” “Your pussy was made for your us.” “Going to fill you up.”

Both of their praises made the knot tighten inside of her. “FUCK!” She cried out as their cock meet the perfect rythem until she felt the euphoria hit all at once. Her pussy clams down making both men cum deep inside. The three now lay there panting in pleasure. (Y/n) closed her eyes.

“I love you both.” Her voice is strained. Gi-hun instantly responsed with a quick ‘I love you back’ .

In-ho sighed deeply kissing her cheek knowing nothing would be the same after this. He loved her too much.

[thiccpersonality]

5 Times Bruce Was Protective of His Pups (+2 Times They Were Protective of Him)

2: The Gala

Bruce doesn't really like parties, he's not prone to throwing them nor is he likely to go to them, especially with all the loudness, the music and...the people. Which is quite redundant to say as a party is made up of people--anyway, Bruce hates parties, more specifically: useless parties around people he either doesn't know or doesn't like-and for what? Just to watch and wait as the guests flock around him like birds to a lone breadcrumb? Just to wait on them to kiss his ass?

Plus, the omega doesn't need parties when he's got his hands full with a loud one named Jason, and in Bruce's unbiased opinion, his new pup is the best party he's ever witnessed.

An excited yip pulls Bruce from his brooding, the displeased scrunch of his brow smoothing out to look relaxed, his frown turning up to a happy smile at the sight of Jason posing in his new suit. "How do I look, B? Good you say? I know. Thank you." A humored rumble escapes from Bruce's throat, the sight of the pup's messily done tie causing the omega to frown and pull Jason closer to him. "You do look good, very good, great even. Your tie is just-" Bruce raises a brow at small teeth gently digging into his fingers, Jason growling in a way that he thinks is intimidating, but in fact is just adorably soft and squeaky...like a puppy trying to bark for the first time.

"But Alfred said I could tie it on my own. And I thought you said I looked good?"

At Jason's imploring look, Bruce just sighs softly in defeat. "Yes, very good, great even is what I said-"

Jason smiles and interrupts the omega again, nuzzling into the other's chest and looking up at him with satisfied baby blue's. "So...were you lying to me, mom?"

Those two words seem to do the trick for Bruce, the omega melting at the cute display and nuzzling his pup's head and neck. "No...I wasn't lying to you. You look really good, and I mean that. Your tie isn't bad at all-" he pulls away to look at the tie, beating down his instincts to clean the messy loops up in favor of smiling at it-"it just has character."

Jason gives a toothy smile and puffs his chest out proudly while patting the tie.

"His name is Rick Astley." 

Bruce can't help but to chuckle in surprise at the name, "You mean...like the singer, Rick Astley?" At Jason's enthusiastic nod, he decides to give the pup what he wants and ask him why choose that name. "And of all the names you could choose, you chose Rick becaaaause?"

"Because I never gave up on this tie!"

Jason smiles happily at the genuine laugh he pulls from the usually stoic omega-his mom. "I thought you'd like that one! I've been working on that since I asked to tie this thing myself. I'll be here on Thursdays." Bruce covers his mouth with his hand to hide his smile, it's something he always feels embarrassed about, especially as he's used to fake smiling anyway...he never expected to laugh this much when adopting children. "So, you'll only be here on Thursdays? I thought you liked this place enough to stay with me?"

Even though it's just a joke, Jason can't help but to get defensive at the mere thought of leaving Bruce's side, the death of his biological mother still too fresh in his mind and causing him to hug onto the omega's leg tightly. "I love it! I feel safe here and no one can take me away!"

The slightly distressed scent coming from Jason causes Bruce to churr softly, the sound immediately causing the younger to slump in relief, the boy's eyes closing at the feeling of fingers gently gliding through his hair. "Shh~ I know, Jay, I know. No one could ever take you away...I wouldn't allow it, you hear me?" A small knock on his bedroom door causes Bruce to sigh softly, "We'll be right out, Alfred-" he stops to turn to Jason, fixing his pup's hair one last time and holding back a smile at the child's displeased grumble at being doted on-"Are you sure that you're ready? You don't have to go out there if you aren't comfortable yet."

It's been something gone unspoken all evening, but Bruce knows Jason is nervous to go out there to people who are nothing like him. Especially as they are the same people who would turn their noses up at the sight of kids like Jay, thinking they are better than them just cause they have lavish lives and the money to flaunt around whenever, that's something the omega knows his pup has been cautious about ever since he told the boy he's hosting an event.

And it's with humor and corny jokes that the pup has been hiding behind this whole time, all to not let Bruce know just how scared this is making him.

Jason-as per usual-just smiles wide and straightens his suit jacket with small, clammy hands. "What? You just want to keep me all to yourself? I was born ready, B. Let's go!" Bruce watches his pup slip out the door and immediately show Alfred his tie with pride, desiring to desperately answer, 'yes', he wants to keep his baby all to himself because he's selfish and desperate in the presence of Jason's mischievous grins and sincere laughs, that he's greedy for that piece of light in his life. So desperate that he wants to hoard it all to himself like a dragon with its most prized treasure.

Because, if Bruce feels like he doesn't deserve a son like Jason, he knows that none of those suck ups out there deserve to even be anywhere near Jason's innocence.

————°————

Lois looks at her wristwatch impatiently for the thousandth time in a row, causing Clark to sigh exasperatedly at his friend. "Lo, no matter how many times you glance at the time, it won't make it go by any faster."

The female omega clicks her tongue impatiently, "No duh! But maybe if I do, our very special host might appear quicker?" She glances at her watch once more, looking back up expectantly towards the staircase. "Has he arrived yet? Do you see him, Kent? Why is he even taking this long-" Clark opens his mouth to respond but is cut off by Lois answering her own question-"I bet it's a power move, huh? He's doing this to show how we wait for him and not the other way around. Rich kids, am I right?"

Clark pushes up his glasses to distract himself from covering up the woman's mouth, his ears flushing in embarrassment on Lois's behalf at the socialites that look their way for her outburst.

"Shh! Be a little more quiet when...stating your opinion, maybe? And Mr. Wayne is only taking so long because he's introducing his new pup tonight, you know how protective he was about Richard Grayson. Why wouldn't he be about this one?" Lois softens at the mention of Bruce's eldest child, "Oh yeah...I forgot about that. Do you think this kid will be just as cute as the other one? I've heard some speculators say that this new pup looks similar to Bruce and Richard, they are convinced that our gracious omega host is the one actually giving birth to these pups himself and he just doesn't remember who the father is."

"Lois-" Clark grumbles in displeasure at the piece of gossip, doing his best to keep the alpha out of his tone-"Those are just rumors and gossip as far as you know--and, I don't want to hear about how 'I know his reputation'. Someone that dedicated to their kids surely doesn't sleep around that much."

At his friend's prolonged silence, he turns to look at her, blushing red at the raised brow he gets. "I-I mean...not saying that he can't not sleep around. I just-"

Lois snorts and pats Clark on the back, "Stop putting your foot in your mouth. You're up to the heel. And I get what you're saying, okay? I was only stating what I read and heard from different people, and despite how harsh I was with Bruce at first, after seeing him with his family...I don't believe those rumors anymore."

Clark rolls his eyes, "By: 'after seeing him with family,' do you actually mean, 'when I saw how the papers don't do his face justice?' That was when you started to not believe the rumors?"

Lois's impish smile is answer enough for Clark, the beta simply sighing the woman's name in exasperated fondness.

The two turn back to looking in anticipation at the staircase, Clark slowly frowning at realizing how casually Lois referred to Bruce, what is that about? But before he can turn to ask her about it, the crowd of reporters push ahead of them at the sight of Bruce Wayne, their cameras flashing and voices rising as they each try to get the omega's attention, Lois shouting above all of them towards Jimmy. "Push harder, Olsen, harder! Get the good spot!"

"Aaand I lost her." Clark watches as Lois claws her way to Jimmy's side, helping the timid beta make his way to the very front.

That's fine. Clark will patiently wait his turn until things are calmed down enough for him to approach Bruce without the fear of being pushed around...of course he can't be hurt, but the thought of accidentally hurting someone with his super strength stresses him out, so waiting the eager reporters out it is.

Luckily enough, the crowd seems to have learned some sort of lesson from the last incident when they startled the omega in the desperation to catch pictures of his new pup, the photographers standing at a decent enough distance as they snap their pic's, their eyes practically shining at the sight of the small pup holding onto Bruce's hand and curiously lifting his head to sniff out who exactly is in the crowd. Everyone grows quiet at the omega's protective glare being shot to the crowd, a tingle shooting down Clark's spine at the feeling of déjà vu the look gives him. 

Bruce ignores the loud click of the cameras as he bends down to whisper to the pup, his voice a soothing rumble. "Jay, do you want me to introduce you?"

Jason squeezes onto the warm hand in his own cool one's, stepping out from Bruce's side with a wide smile, his hands lifting to rest on his hips as he uses all the confidence he witnesses his mom having to lift up his nose to the sky as if he owns the place, as if he belongs here around everyone else. "Nice to meetcha folks! I'm Jason Peter Todd!" The crowd goes silent before pushing forward slightly to ask Jason questions, the pup posing for the cameras while Bruce looks on in a mix of fondness, pride and worry, he still doesn't trust the media fully after all these years. 

Vicki Vale manages to push herself forward at the same time Lois Lane does, the two glaring at each other before turning to smile at Jason sweetly. 

"A word from you Mr. Todd?"

Lois taps her foot impatiently at Vicki beating her to the request, the boy turning to them and sniffing at them curiously. "They put ya in a suit and suddenly you are known as Mr-" the pup holds his hand up in a 'wait' gesture, tugging on his suit and clearing his throat-"Please, ladies, Mr was my father. Call me Jason...or cute, I wouldn't mind the latter from you beauties."

Vicki and Lois look at each other humored, both remembering their professionalism even though they wish to ask the boy exactly who his father is.

"Well, these beauties definitely wouldn't mind having a word with you-" Lois looks up at Bruce with a relaxed smile-"that is...if your mom wouldn't mind us asking you a couple questions? I'm sure...Ms. Vale and I can share you for a couple minutes? Again, if Mr. Wayne doesn't mind?" Jason looks excited at the thought of talking to them, a questioning call slipping from his throat to easily catch Bruce's attention, the omega responding with his own answering chirp. "Jason? What's wrong? Is everything okay?"

The boy nods quickly, causing his waves to bounce wildly around on his head despite how many times Bruce has tried to smooth it down to something tameable. "They wanna ask me questions, can I go with them?"

Bruce stands next to his son's side, placing his hands gently on the small shoulders as he nods his head in greeting of the two women. "Vicki, Lois, it's nice to see you both here tonight-" his eyes rove over the women distrustfully, even though he knows he can trust these two with his pup, he still can't help the protective instincts that come about whenever anyone is near his kids-"I'm glad you could make it. You...want to ask him questions?"

Lois nods, "If you'll allow us to? I know you gotta make your rounds greeting everyone first, but, we were hoping to get a word from the new guy-" purple eyes search the room briefly before focusing back on Bruce-"Speaking of guys, where's Richard? The media would be eating him up about now, and I'm sure he could watch over Jason while we talk to him." The mention of the eldest Wayne causes Jason to pout, "He has these things called...responsibilities and obligations right now, for some reason? I asked him to come tonight but he's doing school stuff and 'friend' things right now."

Bruce chuckles at Jason quoting 'friends' and murmuring something about stupid older brother's, his hands gently fixing up the boy's hair as he speaks. "Well, Dickybird will be here for plenty future events, and do you really want him here right now? He would enjoy embarrassing you in front of everyone."

Jason blushes and bats Bruce's deft fingers away from his hair, "Yeah...just like you're doin' to me right now?" He grumbles in embarrassment, never knowing how to treat the omega's affections openly in front of other people, especially in this sort of crowd...he doesn't want them to think Bruce chose wrong when taking him off the streets, he just wants to prove how good he is and can be. "So, can I go with them or not? I can bring Alfie with me!" Bruce hesitates, sighing softly at the insistent tugging on his pant leg. "Pretty, pretty, pretty please!? With a Jason on top!"

Bruce raises an amused brow, "Why a Jason on top? You know it's usually cherry, right?"

The pup nods, "Cause you like me better than cherries. That's why." 

Hm...he can't exactly argue with that. Bruce turns to find Alfred, holding back a shout as the alpha materializes from thin air right next to him, smiling softly at his son. "Don't worry, sir. I'll keep a good eye on the young Master for you, shall we head along?" Jason squeaks happily and kisses Bruce's hand in thanks before tugging Vicki and Lois along, loudly asking about how his tie looks as they take their conversation to the dessert table.

As soon as the small group leaves his side, Bruce inhales deeply, preparing himself for the vultures he already knows will flock to him like birds to a worm. Smiling charmingly at the cameras, even going so far as to blow a kiss at another.

"Mr. Wayne, what is your eldest son doing tonight!?"

"Mr. Wayne, how attached do you feel to tonights event!?"

"Mr. Wayne, who exactly are Richard and Jason's fathers? Are they biologically related or only half?"

"Mr. Wayne-"

Their voices start to blend together as the stupid questions start rolling in. Now that Lois and Vicki took the professionalism out the room with them, Bruce curses his fate as he's left with only the gossip hungry leeches, not headstrong people like Lane and Vale who actually care about their work and-

Bruce blinks away the spots in his vision from the bright flashes at the sight of a very tall, very imposing man-reporter, maybe?-that is patiently standing behind the rambunctious media.

Hm...his curiosity has been piqued.

Especially as something in his chest scratches in familiarity at the sight of this random reporter-or who he hopes is a reporter-and his lost puppy kind of look. There's something that is oddly endearing about this man and Bruce wants to find out why.

"Excuse me ladies and gentlemen, but I would like to talk to..." Bruce draws out his words, making a show of his 'indecisiveness' as he looks over the group of reporters, biting his lip in thought as he evaluates them all, slowly reaching further back in the group until his eyes land on his target."You! The man with the-" he squints his eyes at the sight of elbow patches, scrunching his nose in distaste at the sight of elbow patches, who the crap does that anymore?-"elbow patches."

Clark adjusts his glasses on his face nervously, a habit he's taken to over the years that he finds oddly comforting when he feels embarrassed about something.

"Uh...me?"

Bruce smiles, flashing a bit of his omegan fangs as he does so at the nerves radiating from this man, looking more like a predator with its prey rather than the thoughtful host Clark thought he was. "Yes, you. Don't look around for someone to replace you, I want you and only you. What? Do you not want to talk to me?"

Clark flushes red at the words, and from the way Mr. Wayne's eyes seem to pierce into his soul with how...icy they look. Not in a bad way, but the color makes Clark feel like every inhale is like breathing in a breath mint, maybe and Altoid due to the strength of it? Ah! When did the omega get so close to him? Clark does his best not to breath in the shorter man's alluring scent, his face growing redder at the interested sniff the omega directs at him. "Well?"

Right.

Mr. Wayne is deserving of an explanation...I guess?

"O-Of course it'd be delightful to speak to you, Mr. Wayne. Do you have somewhere more-"

Bruce pulls away from him suddenly with a surprised look, shaking his head softly and messing with his shirt cuffs with an amused smirk stretching his lips. "Metropolis...I should've known that's where you'd be from. Though the people there are usually more forward, aren't they?"

Clark's eyebrows furrow at the comment, what's wrong with Metropolis? But before he can answer the question, Bruce cuts him off again.

"Like one Ms. Lois Lane, for example. Though-" icy blue eyes rake up and down the tall figure, his eyes stopping at the press badge clipped to the fashion disaster that is...Clark Kent's suit-"I detect a hint of farm boy in your tone? So, maybe not from Metropolis?" Bruce presses in closer to try and catch a scent from Clark, casting aside his growing disappointment as the man doesn't smell like alpha as he suspected, just mothballs and innocence.

"Smallville."

Bruce looks up at the beta, immediately regretting it as he's met with the deepest blue gaze he thinks he's ever seen on a person, do eyes even get to be that color?

It feels as if Bruce is looking into the night sky...not that he knows what that's like, living in Gotham and all. But, if he could, he could imagine it being like this, the reflection of light in Clark's eyes reminding him of twinkling stars up above.

Bruce looks away suddenly, cursing the heated feeling in his ears and spreading to his cheeks, he hopes it's not visible? Though with how pale he is...he can't imagine hiding the blush.

Well, this is stupid.

Bruce feels like abandoning his self proclaimed mission at his own reaction towards Clark, though...there really is something familiar about the other man, and he can't place his carefully manicured nails on it.

Fine. He supposes he can bring out the bit of professionalism Brucie Wayne shows sometimes, only because he has no desire to tease the poor beta anymore and definitely not because he's feeling shy. "Right...I've...never been to Smallville before. Why don't we talk about it more this way." Clark startles at the hand gently wrapping around his elbow and tugging him over to French doors that lead to a balcony, looking over his shoulder as the omega quickly searches for someone and scents the air before stepping outside.

Clark relaxes himself and allows his senses to spread out, his nose twitching frantically to smell exactly what Bruce did.

Expensive colognes, sweet smelling perfumes, natural scents coming from both alpha, beta and omegas alike-ah, there it is! Something slightly milky with a hint of baby oil and spice, a pup that's trying to develop their own scent but still in the puppy stage.

"Your son-Jason, that is-seems really sweet."

Bruce's scent turns pleased at the compliment, releasing Clark's arm and turning to give him a genuine smile that is all proud mama. "He is! And he's very smart too, he enjoys reading books that not even I read at his age, I'm very honored to be his parent." Clark feels himself softening up at the genuineness on the omega's face, at the love in his tone, that feeling from before growing stronger for some reason at the other's affection towards Jason.

"So, Smallville?"

Clark pushes up his glasses and smiles, "Yup! It's a small town, but it's peaceful and has genuine people in it, s'more than I could ever ask for."

At Bruce's nose scrunching up again-a little trait Clark is quickly noticing about the other that he's finding adorable-he can't help but to question the man. "What? Did I say something funny? I don't think growing up in Smallville is that funny, farms may stink to high Heavens, but they sure are fun and teach you the importance of hard work."

Bruce shakes his head and covers his twitching lips with his hand, "No...your accent slipped and is just...amusing? But in a cute way! You said 's'more', aren't s'mores those little snacks you squish between your fingers?"

Now it's Clark that looks at Bruce like he said the funniest thing. "Are you being serious? You've never heard of a s'more?"

The omega rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, "Obviously I've heard of them. I wouldn't mention it if I've never heard of it, Kent, I was just making sure I had it right-" his brow twitches at the full blown smile the beta gives, coupled with a deep chuckle-"I don't think that's funny. If I can't laugh at your farm life, you can't laugh at me for not having a s'more. After all, it teaches you the importance of eating healthy foods."

The offended gasp escaping Clark's lips causes Bruce to look over his shoulder for what could have brought out that sound, the taller pulling out his recorder and waving it in his face.

"You've never eaten s'mores!? I think that's worse than never hearing of one! You mind if I interview you about this?" Bruce huffs at the defensive tone, his chest being tickled with humor at the other wanting to interview him about a snack he's never had before. "I don't think I mind? But, shouldn't you reporters be asking me about tonights event? Getting the reason for it and why I hosted this specific one? Don't your people usually poke at me about my kids?"

Clark sets down his recorder after switching it on, raising an inquiring brow at the omega. "Is me asking you questions about your family something that interests you? From what I gathered, you hated my people asking you about your pups, almost just as much as you get tired of hearing us ask you are you dating Batman."

At Bruce's irritated grumble, Clark smiles and gently guides the other closer to the tape recorder, not noticing just how much the simple touch effects the smaller man.

"Good evening Mr. Wayne, thank you for inviting me here tonight and accepting this interview. There have been some crazy rumors out there-" Clark has to pause to whisper to the other about not laughing, his heart pounding at the happy scent wafting from Bruce-"that you've never heard of s'mores. Would you care to clear those accusations up?"

Bruce sighs softly, not believing he's playing along with this, but clearing his throat and answering with all the seriousness he can muster into his voice.

"Yes, Mr. Kent, I would like to address those rumors about me...because they just aren't true. I have heard of s'mores before, it's just that I haven't ever eaten them." Clark hums, "Would you care to elaborate on why that is? Some people out there would think you never tasting it as worse than never knowing about it, what do you say to those people who could possibly feel that way?"

"Hm? Are one of those people from the Midwest? Cause if so, I'd tell him that there's worse things in this life than me not eating junk."

Clark's offended, 'hey', causes Bruce to grin. "Well, if there happened to be some lovely gentlemen from the Midwest who felt that way, I think he would politely disagree with you...even though you are technically right-" The word 'technically' causes Bruce to sputter, "What do you mean by that!? You just said you-I mean, this man 'technically' agrees with me by you stating I'm right. He's been around animal sh-poop for too long, it's causing him to spew crap from his mouth." 

"Technically-" Clark smirks teasingly down at the smaller-"I said, technically. That's not out right admitting you are in the right." 

Bruce narrows his eye at the taller man's beautifully smug smirk, "Do you not know what the word technically means? Technically: according to the facts or exact meaning of something; strictly. That's what that word means, so, 'technically' you and this Midwestern-ahem-gentleman are agreeing with me."

Clark freezes at that itching feeling returning to his mind, the scratching feeling of close familiarity this argument brings to him.

There's someone else he knows that takes simple jokes like this and turns them into mini battles, but-"Kent? Hellooo? Did a chicken escape the coop in there?"

Clark frowns at the omega shutting off his recorder, "Why did you turn that off? I was interviewing you." 

Bruce holds the device in his hand, suddenly looking shy and embarrassed, his smile awkward as he fiddles with the metal tool. "Well, you were pausing for five seconds too long for an interview. And-" he glances away-"don't you think this was a bit silly of us? I'm not supposed to answer questions like this...no one even asks these kinds of things anyway, they're too...trivial for my work."

Clark steps closer to the omega, reaching out to grab the recorder from the shorter, finding himself daring enough to stay in the other's personal space while his hand rests in the smaller one. "Why is asking you about things you may enjoy trivial? Have you ever thought no one cares enough about the simple things you do? It makes you seem...more approachable, Mr. Wayne." Bruce feels like his heart is trying to fly out of his chest at how close they are, his cheeks growing a soft pink at the sincerity from the other. "I-I...I'm not usually supposed to be approachable, Mr. Kent. Not unless I want something."

Clark sucks in his gasp at how close Bruce's face is, it would be so easy to bend down and kiss those pink lips...but that wouldn't be professional, would it?

"And...what do you want from me, Mr. Wayne?"

At Bruce's shocked look, Clark gives a small smirk. "You didn't think I noticed you looking through the audience of determined reporters? I saw you already look at me before acting like you were indecisive about who you wanted to interview you. You were going to pick me the whole time."

Bruce purses his lips at being caught, though his inner omega is fascinated by how smart this potential mate random stranger is to notice such small details.

"What would Mr. Wayne say to the Midwestern man who wants to know what tonight's special host wants? Especially from a reporter trying to blend into the crowd."

Bruce can't help the entertained smile as-even though it's not turned on anymore-the recorder is pushed up to his mouth. "I...you were being still-" at the beta's intrigued look, he continues-"Do you know how rare it is to see someone who isn't trying to crawl all over someone else just to get the scoop on Bruce Thomas Wayne? You looked like the calm in the midst of a very bothersome, very loud storm, Mr. Kent. So...what I wanted was to...see who you are."

Clark stares down into icy blue eyes, being drawn further into the crystalline gaze, swallowing down the urge to call out to this wonderful omega with his own alpha and whispering softly instead.

"And did you find anything worth your time?"

Bruce's eyelashes flutter, "I did. You are a great conversationalist, Mr. Kent. If-if people from Smallville are anything like you, maybe it isn't so bad?"

The two seem to lean in closer to the other, their private bubble popping at the sound of boisterous laughter coming from inside. Bruce gasps and pulls away, both him and Clark blushing as the beta apologizes for being unprofessional, the whine being choked down the Wayne heir's throat from the loss of warmth as their hands separate.

Clark stands tall as the omega steps close again, his smile back to suave as he slips the recorder back into the suit pocket, his voice betraying how he actually feels as it's incredibly soft and hopeful. "You can keep this interview for yourself-" his finger taps the device now snug in Clark's front pocket-"And...maybe you can finish this interview at a better time? When I don't have to greet my guests, perhaps? I think I've kept them waiting on me long enough."

Lois's voice echoes in Clark's head about power moves and everything, his lips twitching up in amusement as he nods gently and leads the omega back inside.

————°————

Jason doesn't know how it's happened. One second he was being interviewed by two lovely women-his new friends-and then the next thing he knows he's somehow separated from them and doing his best to greet the guests while waiting for Bruce to return. 

Luckily enough for him, there's been a nice group of high class attendees that waved him over, their sparkling jewelry catching the pups attention. "Looky here, ladies, we have a lovely gentleman in our midst. And isn't he the cutest thing you've ever seen?" Jason stands taller as the group of older women assess him, their lips stretching into fond smiles as they stare down at him. "My name is Margareta Hewley, young man, though I prefer Margaret, Marge or Greta cause my name sounds like the alcoholic drink-oh! I got off topic. I may have forgotten your name already...but what was it, Johnson?"

Jason goes to respond, but a middle-aged woman with sandy blonde hair interrupts him with a frantic hand wave.

"No, no, no. You've got it all wrong, Greta. He said his name was Jensen, isn't that right, honey? My name is Dahlia Nugat, though it sounds a lot like the thing you put in-between chocolate bars."

The group of women burst out into a loud laughter, Jason growing increasingly amused by these women and how silly they are and how they make fun of their names. "Nice to meet you, my name is Jason actually-" the women 'ah' as he kindly corrects them, causing Jason to giggle-"But it's okay! Everyone makes mistakes."

A brunette reaches down to pinch at his cheek, "Well aren't you just so forgiving? It's very nice to see another one of Bruce's pups, he definitely has a type, doesn't he girls?"

Dahlia hums and leans closer to Jason, "What do you mean, Grace? This one has the most lovely shade of baby blue eyes I've ever seen." Grace sips at her champagne, nodding in agreement. "Of course he does! But that's not what I meant. He sure does pick a lot of strays up, doesn't he? Dearie, may I ask where you came from?" Jason swallows nervously as their attention is suddenly drawn to him, their smiles still open and inviting, like aunties scrambling to look at their favorite nephews new child. Though there's something in their gazes now that cause him to feel like he needs to stand a little taller as they question him, "Y-Yes ma'am. Bruce found-" the affronted gasps cause the pup to frown-"What? Did I...did I say something wrong?"

Greta waves a delicate hand. "Oh, of course not! Just...you were found? It makes it seem like you were lost, dear child. Did he not collect you from the adoption agency? He has lots of them due to his mother's bleeding heart-ah, rest her soul of course."

Jason furrows his brow in confusion at the term 'collect'. What is he? A trophy?

"Well, no...he found me on the streets. So, I guess I was kind of lost without him, though I knew my way around them!"

Greta, Dahlia and Grace share a look with each other. The sandy blonde looking him up and down before her eyes land on his tie, her smile returning at the sight of it. "Oh my! Look at this lovely tie, girls, isn't it cute? It has...character to it."

Grace raises a thin brow, "Is this character named Jason? The tie looks about as lost as he does."

It takes a moment for Jason to process the comment, the delivery of it was said so syrupy sweet and complimenting that he chirped happily, his mood souring slightly at the biting remark. "Hey! Bruce and Alfred said I could tie my own tie for tonight and even said it looked great."

Greta clears her throat to get her friends under control, "We only jest with you. This is how we...play around here, you're one of us now, aren't you?" At the boy's quick nodding, her smile returns full force. "There's a good pup! We are only recognizing you as a part of our...pack you could say. And sometimes packs tease each other in good fun, surely you must know this?" Jason looks down ashamed at the memories of his small, very broken pack consisting of just himself, his mom and his dad...there wasn't really any good fun in those times, so he doesn't know how it's supposed to work.

The women practically purr at the downcast look they receive for the specific question, itching forward in excitement as they practically smell the juicy story emanating off the child. "Jason? Why the long stare? Surely it isn't that hard to tell us if you had fun with your biological family."

The pup looks back up at Greta, his throat feeling tight as he tries his best to remain brave, neglecting the urge to look for Bruce.

"I...don't wanna talk about them. Y-You have any other questions?"

Dahlia croons softly at him, "Don't you fret your adorable little head. I'll just state the obvious here: you don't know how a pack works, do you?" She waits for the boy to shake his head, clicking her tongue when he does so. "Well there we have it! You don't know how a pack properly works, and we-as your kind new aunties-just want to make sure you know how it functions. And in packs, you share things about yourself with each other, I mean, you need trust in a family don't you?"

Jason bites his lip. That...is true, isn't it? And he has been working on being more open about his feelings, even the bad ones.

"Y-Yes, you do. But...I don't know h-how."

The three croon to him at the same time, drawing him in closer as they pat his head and back comfortingly.

"There, there, puppy. Being open and honest about these things is healthy and perfectly normal, even if it doesn't seem like it is. Since this question is bothering you so much, why don't we ask where your mommy found you?"

Jason inhales shakily, balling up his pants in his tiny fists as he calms himself. "U-Uhm...B found me in Crime Alley."

Grace looks at him in disgust, "Ew! Who would be in a place like that? And why would our Brucie visit there anyway? That place holds no good memories for him, his parents were murdered there." 

Jason feels ashamed from the intense reaction, the womens faces scrunching and curling up in disgust at the place he was born in. I mean, he can understand the aversion to wanting to be there, but do they have to be so...mean about it? However, he remembers Dahlia saying that being honest is normal, even when it seems scary to be so. But since he can't be truthful about the way he was actually found, he'll share a different kind of truth instead.

So, here goes nothing.

"I was born in Crime Alley. B found me on accident when visiting to help the folks down there...and I may have stolen something of his, but-."

The three women gasp, Dahlia literally clutching at her pearls while the other two jump away from him, a sharpness to their eyes that wasn't there before. "You mean...you are a thief? Are you sure you didn't just slip into Bruce's car and by his kindness he kept you?" Dahlia hisses out at him. Grace sniffles and lifts her head high, as if he's no longer worthy enough to look at. "First it was a circus freak and now a street rat? Where does Bruce find such creatures?"

Greta pulls out a handkerchief and wipes her hands on it, her lips curled up in absolute revulsion towards him. "I can't believe I touched it. And here I held out hope that this one was something...more?"

The women continue to insult Jason, causing the boy's eyes to grow watery as he tries to remember to breathe, maybe even apologize for whatever he did. He doesn't want to get sent away if Bruce sees and realizes he didn't make a good impression, he wants to stay, he wants to have this family so badly that it hurts. Nothing is worse than being alone, he'd take as much pain as possible if it doesn't mean being left alone with nothing but himself, and just the thought alone is panic inducing. "I-I wanna...s-stay."

The women turn their gazes towards the pup, their faces morphing into one of fear as they try to quiet him down, their smiles returning as they try to get him to calm down and breath. Their heads swiveling left and right in search of Bruce.

"I-I don't wanna go!"

Jason cries loudly, a sob ripping its way out of his throat as he attempts to wipe away the tears.

His head lifts instinctively in search of Bruce, his nose sniffing frantically for the omega and a whine cutting through the jovial mood and replacing it with the scent of distressed pup. There's only one person he wants right now and he doesn't see him, the memories of his mom clutching onto a pill bottle even in her death assaulting Jason suddenly, why did she leave him? They were supposed to survive together but she left and now Bruce-

Bruce?

Where's Bruce?

Where's-"M-Mommy!"

————°————

Bruce and Clark smile awkwardly at each other as they walk inside, Lois immediately rushing over to them and complimenting her fellow omega for how beautiful Jason is. "Thank you! He really is beautiful, isn't he? But, you do know I didn't actually give birth to him? I can't take credit for creating his beauty."

Lois rolls her eyes and growls at another reporter trying to interrupt them, straightening her deep purple suit jacket when they rush off.

"Why does it matter? He seems like a very sweet kid...and you took that sweetness in and-as far as I'm concerned-cultivated his kindness into something even more. You're good for him and he's perfect for you. Especially since he grew up in Crime Alley, you wouldn't imagine there'd come any good from that, hm?" Bruce blinks in shock at the other omega, "Jason...he told you that himself? That he grew up there?" The woman nods proudly, "Both me and Vicki...but it was a really nice interview. Especially when Vicki was called elsewhere-" she digs around in her inner suit pocket before pulling out a notepad and tape recorder-"Oh yes! I jotted down some extra notes in here and recorded our interview with Alfred's permission. I know how protective you are and thought that you'd like to take a look and listen over these? Contact me when you know what you want to be shared with the public, if anything at all."

Bruce feels his chest warm at the thoughtfulness, surprising even himself as he hands the notepad and recorder back to Lois.

"I...trust that you'll use good judgement? You don't win a Pulitzer for no reason, Ms. Lane."

Purple eyes shine in victory, an omegan call escaping her as she thanks Bruce and immediately gets distracted at Jimmy passing by them looking at his camera, Lois immediately hounding him to show her the money shots.

"Well, I guess you have to go find your son now?"

Bruce looks up at Clark and nods, sniffing the air quickly and smirking at the smell of his pup being around the whole room. He wouldn't be surprised if the boy tried his hand at talking to everyone in the room by himself, but before he can turn to go find his son, the scent of slightly sour milk stings the omega's nose. An ear piercing cry causing Bruce to instinctively turn towards the sound of scared pup, not just any pup, but his own.

"M-Mommy!"

An aggressive snarl is torn from Bruce's throat as he shoves his way past the guests, ignoring the pained cries of anyone unlucky enough to be in the way as he forces his way to where his pup is, his eyes narrowing angrily at the sight of the three women who constantly give him headaches at these sort of events.

"Jason-" Bruce trills-"it's okay, baby, it's okay. Move!"

The three women bare their necks in apology as they slowly back away from the Wayne's pup, the scent of their fear stinking up the room and causing Jason to react worse than before, his small hands squeezing onto Bruce's shirt as he gasps around his words. "D-Dont...go! I'm sorry!" Bruce wraps his arms securely around Jason, the different scents of alpha, beta and omega overwhelming him. His arms wrap tighter around his child as he snarls at the flashing cameras, the room descending into chaos as the media wants good pictures and certain attendees are  trying to send out their own soothing scents in response to the smell of a scared pup. 

Jason whimpers as someone shouts an inappropriately timed question, that being the last straw for Bruce as his omega takes full control and growls at everyone, even going so far as to start hitting at people in his protective state.

Pretty sure someone's camera broke.

"Get the fuck out of my home!"

The flashes stop suddenly at the sound of a feral and protective omega mother, the crowd has further incentive to keep moving when they see Bruce secure his hold on Jason and squaring his shoulders in preparation to start fighting anyone and everyone still in his nest.

"Mommy, d-don't give me away. I promise t-that I'll be good."

Gentle hands rub at Jason's nape to try and soothe him, his inner omega restless even though there's no one else he senses in his home but Alfred, Bruce whimpering pitifully as he nuzzles the boy's neck. "But you are good, you're so good, Jay. Better than I could have ever asked or hoped for, who told you that you weren't?"

Jason just whimpers and tries to scent Bruce's neck, whining at the equally distressed scent of his mom.

Why can't Bruce calm down? He's failing as a mother. He's just supposed to stay calm long enough to comfort his baby and then he can be furious, but something in him is shaking, snarling and fighting against enemies that aren't even here. His eyes flickering around the room for threats, covering Jason in his scent so no one can find him and take him away-

A strong hand cupping the nape of his neck firmly, but not without kindness, causes Bruce to melt with a whine against his pup.

"D-Dad."

Alfred softly shushes both Bruce and Jason, giving a couple firm rubs to induce the omega's serotonin, gently rumbling to the two and scenting them to soothe not just them, but himself as well. "There you go, Bruce. Will you both be alright while I head into the kitchen to prepare some warm milk?"

Bruce nods and nuzzles Jason, cooing to the pup as he hiccups softly. "It's okay, sweetheart. We'll go to my nest, okay?"

Bruce stands up with a slight stumble, petting Jason's fluffy hair softly as he rushes towards the steps, stopping in surprise at the sight of a frazzled Clark Kent, shocked at the fact he doesn't get too defensive at the other man's presence. "C-Clark? Why are you still here?" The beta looks down at Jason worriedly, sighing in relief at seeing the boy seems to be fine for the most part, though his nose twitches at the lingering scents of distress in the air. "I was helping to clear everyone out the house a-and I couldn't help but to stick behind even though I told myself to leave. I'm sorry, Bruce. I-I know that this is crossing some sort of line, but I just needed to see that you both were okay."

Bruce purrs softly in response to Jason shifting around with a whine, his omega not enjoying the fact his baby is feeling intimidated by the alpha, even if it is an alpha he feels comfortable with himself.

This time it's Clark that interrupts Bruce before he can say anything, "Look. Um...you're taking him upstairs, right? I-I don't want to go into your nest, but...can I...geeze-" he cards a shaky hand through his hair-"If it's allowed, may I escort you both to the room? I promise to stay in front so you can see me at all times." It looks like this situation isn't the only one to shake Bruce up, seems like it's startled the poor beta just as much as them.

Bruce slowly nods and gestures towards the staircase, watching cautiously as the man ascends the steps.

He continues to scent his pup with his now relaxed scent, gently massaging Jason's neck to relax the boy more while purring softly and peppering the sweaty face with kisses. "We're almost there, baby. You are so good, no one is taking you away from me, no one at all. You're mine and I'm your's cause we chose each other, and I would never trade that for anything."

Jason squeaks softly against the omega's neck, inhaling the familiar scent desperately as he slumps in Bruce's arms.

"Thank you Clark for making sure we got here safe. I'll just-"

The beta bends forward slowly to open the door for Bruce, his smile embarrassed for crossing into the omega's space again, his voice a quiet rumble as he speaks. "Your hands are full." Bruce hums in response, too tired to pay attention to the familiarity of this interaction as he quickly settles Jason down onto the bed, heading back to the open door and hesitating before closing it softly, a tired but thankful smile gracing his face as he whispers an extremely grateful, "Thank you."

The door softly clicks shut in Clark's face, his mouth hanging wide open as he realizes that Bruce Wayne is Batman.

————°————

It's late into the night, Bruce purring loudly at his pup's now milky and safe smelling scent. He can't find it in himself to sleep after tonight's events, so lying in bed cuddling with his baby it is.

A small, sleepy squeak escapes Jason, the boy twitching in his sleep, only being soothed by Bruce pressing kisses to his cheek and purring even louder. Why is it now that his mind chooses to think about the familiarity Clark Kent gives him, as if he's met him before? His sleep-addled brain sluggishly replaying every interaction between him in Clark, so much so that he starts to drift off to sleep.

However, the way the beta opened the door for him, stuck around for him and the pup, as well as announce that, 'your hands are full', is strangely uncanny to the way Superman stuck around for Richard and-Oh my gosh! Bruce opens his eyes quickly, any trace of exhaustion gone as he comes to the realization that Clark Kent is Superman.

"Hush, pup, I'm right here, it's okay." Bruce croons to the pup he disturbed in his surprised revelation, rubbing the boys back and cocooning the boy tighter into the blankets as he settles down to sleep.

(Here's the Link to Part 1: The Interview. I hope these stories are able to be enjoyed by someone? Either way, you guys are amazing. So please remember to stay safe, happy, healthy and of course lovely as always. 💛

P.S. The three rich hags views on Jason are not my own personal opinion of those in poverty or otherwise. They were written to be jerks/upsetting, so I hope I achieved my goal? I myself grew up in poverty and it sucks (absolutely would not wish it on my worst enemies), again, I just wrote them in the attempts of what rich people may think sometimes about those with less. Don't be like them guys! Be kind to everyone, okay? Alright, bye bye. 😘💛)

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Mitsuhide Akechi Sequel

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies.

Not a full translation. Not proofread.

Mitsuhide: "Let me hear that story as well."

Sasuke: "!"

(Mitsuhide!)

The moment I saw his face, my chest instinctively swelled, and a smile spread across my face.

Mitsuhide & Sasuke: "............"

(Wait, this isn't the time to be smiling!)

Mai: "Um, Mitsuhide, this person is my friend, and—"

Mitsuhide: "His name is Sasuke, and like you, he came from the future, correct?"

Mai: "Eh?"

Mitsuhide: "Apologies, but I overheard your conversation."

Without the slightest hint of guilt, he sat down beside me.

Mitsuhide: "Wearing such attire and sneaking into the castle must mean you're a member of a faction opposing the Oda forces."

(How could he deduce so much in an instant?!)

Sasuke: "Yes. I apologize for trespassing."

Sasuke: "Allow me to introduce myself properly. My name is Sasuke Sarutobi."

Sasuke: "And you are Lord Mitsuhide Akechi, correct?"

Mitsuhide: "Oh? You know my name, and you're still this calm?"

He narrowed his eyes, and the atmosphere suddenly grew tense.

Sasuke: "I understand I'm in a position where I can offer no excuses, but please allow me to say this one thing."

Sasuke: "Mai is my friend."

(Sasuke...)

Mitsuhide: "From the beginning, I had no intention of killing you."

Sasuke: "Huh?"

Mitsuhide: "Amidst a castle brimming with hostility, you risked your life to infiltrate enemy territory and rush to Mai's side."

Mitsuhide: "It would be foolish of me to use my sword against her beloved friend."

Mitsuhide smiled faintly and drew me closer.

Mitsuhide: "Thank you, Mai's friend."

(He seems to be stressing the word 'friend' a bit too much.)

Sasuke: "Being patronized by the famous Akechi Mitsuhide is one of the top five most miraculous experiences I've had since coming to the Sengoku period."

(Is Sasuke touched?)

Mitsuhide: "You seem like an interesting man, Sasuke."

After murmuring that with a laugh, his eyes sharpened once again.

Mitsuhide: "Mai, I learned about your condition from a letter from Kyubei."

Mitsuhide: "I'm sorry. I must have made you feel anxious."

Mai: "No, I'm just glad you came back."

(He must have returned to Azuchi immediately after reading the letter.)

Being this close made me realize how anxious I was when he was gone.

Mitsuhide: "Sasuke, would you mind continuing where you left off?"

Sasuke: "............"

Mitsuhide: "............"

(The atmosphere suddenly became heavy.)

As I watched them exchange wordless glances, my chest began to stir.

Sasuke: "From the looks of it, you may have reached the same hypothesis as I have."

Mai: "The same hypothesis?"

Mitsuhide: "............"

Mitsuhide fixed Sasuke with a piercing gaze.

Sasuke, accepting it head-on, nodded.

Sasuke: "First, I'd like to confirm the situation."

Mai: "Okay."

Sasuke: "The phenomena happening to you can be summarized in three points:"

Sasuke: "You're becoming invisible to others, your voice isn't reaching them, and the others can't touch you. Is that right?"

Mai: "Yeah, that's correct."

Sasuke: "However, you can still see others, hear their voices, and perceive them normally."

Mai: "Yeah."

(Hearing it laid out like this feels so surreal.)

Sasuke: "I believe these anomalies can be rephrased as follows: Mai, you are gradually losing the ability to interact with people living in this era."

(Losing the ability to interact...?)

Mai: "Does that mean I won't be able to connect with anyone around me anymore?"

Sasuke: "Yeah."

Mitsuhide: "............"

(That's almost like I'm a...)

Mai: "Ghost."

Sasuke: "............."

Mitsuhide: "Continue, Sasuke."

Mitsuhide, maintaining his composure, urged Sasuke to proceed.

Sasuke nodded and handed Mitsuhide the Travel Guide.

Sasuke: "Lord Mitsuhide, are you familiar with this book?"

Mitsuhide: "Mai has told me about it. It's a history book from five hundred years into the future."

Sasuke: "That's right. This book, however, has a peculiar flaw—the section following the Incident at Honnoji is completely blank."

Sasuke: "What happened that night was significantly different from the events recorded five hundred years later."

Sasuke: "The most crucial difference is..."

Mai: "That I saved Lord Nobunaga?"

Sasuke: "Yeah."

Sasuke: "That said, the cause of the historical alteration lies in the time slip itself. Mai, you're not at fault for anything."

Sasuke: "But if there's a significant difference between the original history and the current one, that would be it."

(He's right. Sasuke's explanation makes sense.)

Sasuke: "This might be an unscientific and utterly speculative hypothesis, but perhaps Mai is being rejected by this world as divine punishment for altering history."

(Divine punishment...)

Mitsuhide: "............"

[faghubby]

Little cocksucker

I am not sure how it grew but it started when I moved to Pennsylvania. My parents moved us out to a small town 30 minutes from even a gas station. I was 17 and hoped to be away at school in a next year. I had grown up in New York and the culture shock was insane. It had been months and I had no friends. Then I met Jack

Jack and I couldn't be different he had lived in this small town his whole life. His family owned a farm. And he looked like he worked his whole life on a farm. 6 ft tall and huge I swear he could of flipped a car if he wanted to. While I was 5' 3" damn most of the girls where bigger then me even my little sister. So when Jack invited me to go horseback riding I told him I didn't know how.

"Don't worry I will teach you" he assured me. He drove me in his pickup truck. I didn't even know how to drive and he had been driving since he was 14. Jack walked me thru how to ride. Giving me an older horse to ride.

"He is not going to go hard" he told me. Helping on to the horse. He watched as I rode around the field before he joined me. He then led me thru the fields into the woods. Before we came upon an old house in the woods. He stopped and helped me down. Grabbing my ass as he did. I was shocked but thought it just an accident.

"There aren't many girls our age around" he commented as he showed me around the old abandoned house.

"So I noticed" I told him.

"Have you ever been in a circle jerk?" He asked plainly.

"What, no" I told him.

"There are some of us who help each other" He told me pressing me against a wall. His hand cupping my crotch.

"Go ahead" he told me. Leaning in closer.

"I'm not" I told him

"Non of us are. Animals often do things when there is a shortage of females" he told me. I reached down and felt his hard cock thru his jeans. Holy shit was that all him? He unzipped his pants he wore no underwear his cock sprug free. I stroked him. He just held his hand against my crotch. His hand was able to hold not only my hard dick but my balls as well, while I needed two hands to hold him.

"You can be the female today" he told me as I stroked his cock. It was odd but excited me at the same time.

"There are a few of us, but no one speaks of it" he told me. I shook my head.

"I understand"

"Would you like to lick it?" He asked. I shook my head no but knelt and kissed his cock.

"No one says anything?" I asked.

"Top secret" he smiled as I took the head in my mouth. He kissed and licked but made him cum on the floor. He helped me back up his rough hands rubbed my nipples.

"We are going to have lots of fun together" he told me. He fixed his pants and helped back on the horse. This time not hiding his grab on my ass. I was worried and ashamed as we rode back to the barn. I couldn't even look Jack in the face. But caught myself thinking about his muscles.

The next day in gym class everyone seemed to be behaving different towards me. I wasn't the little funt outcast. Several guys "helped me"

"Hold the ball like this. Or stand with your feet apart " they showed me standing very close I thought.

When we went to change, Bill came up behind me.

"Jack says you joined our little circle" He smiled as he pulled off his shorts and boxers. His cock swinging free. I quickly looked away as he laughed softly. Jack started driving me home everyday. It was a week before he pulled down a dirt road. He stopped and pulled out his cock.

"I can't stop thinking about what a great job you did" he told me. I blushed and took his cock in my mouth. He was more forceful this time. Pushing my head. Gaging me encouraging me to take more. He finished in my mouth but I spit it out.

"It's time you met the rest of the group" he told me.

"Are you going to?" I asked looking down at the bulge ini my jeans

"Not my turn to be the female" Jack smiled not giving me anymore explanation. I rinsed out my mouth. Wondering if they expected more from the "female" . Jack drove me home.

"I am glad you are making friends paul "my mother smiled. she was folding clothes. I blushed a bit as I saw her fold her panties.

I was 17 never even kissed a girl but had sucked Jack's cock twice. I started to obsess over who the other guys where, what they would expect, where they all big like Jack? Was I just really small? I searched the internet. And found myself watching bisexual porn. I came across one with a man wearing panties sucking cock. I would catch glimpses of the guys changing at gym. I found myself looking at their assessment. And not the few girls in class. Was I gay?

"Should I pick you up around 7" Jack said as he came up behind me in the hallway. His hand cupped my ass. I blushed

"Sure"i said a bit higher pitch then I had meant too. I obsessed over what to wear. My hair and how I smelled. Should they want me to Smell like a girl? I grabbed a bag. And thru in a spare tee. Incase Jack came on me again. Should I wear panties? I had never wanted to but now? I decided against it and Jack was right on time. He drove to an old factory on the edge of town the place was huge. He walked me thru.

"No reason to be nervous" he told me. He lit a joint and gave me some. I had only smoked weed once. I got high on just two hits. I heard music as we got close. I saw Bill and Roger they handed me a beer. As Jack led me into a room. Pete was there. Sitting on a chair naked.

"You know what to do" Jack told me swatting my ass. I went to him. Jack left, Pete pulled me onto his lap. His cock now rubbing against my bulge. He kissed me. Long and hard his tounge darting around my mouth. I loved it. And relaxed in his arms. My hand reached down and stroked his cock. He stole the kiss and I slid to the floor and sucked his cock. It was smaller then Jack but bigger then mine for sure. Pete also came quicker then Jack. I didn't try and move I let him cum in my mouth.

Pete calmly got up and dressed as I took a swig of beer to cleat the taste. As soon as Pete left Roger came in. He was the tallest of them. Roger wasted no time he grabbed me and pulled me to his crotch he held my hair as he tried to face fuck me. But I kept gagging. And he would stop. He pulled out and came all over my face. I took off my shirt and wipped it off. No sooner had I done that when Bill presented his cock to me. Bill let me do whatever I wanted. I tried to do things I had seen in pornos I licked his balls. And cupped his ass as I sucked his dick. Almost taking all of him. He asked me wear I wanted it, I just sucked him harder and he came in my mouth. I swallowed it all down. Proud of myself that I was able too.

Jack came in offered me more pot. I was really stoned now. He stripped me naked. And pushed me to the floor, I sucked his cock my jaw aching. But the pot made me not care. As I sucked his cock he rubbed my ass. Then his fingers spread my cheeks I didn't stop. As his finger probed my ass. I moaned as he did. I don't remember much after that.

I must of passed out. I woke the music still playing. I got dressed and went back out. Pete handed me a beer. And another hit off a joint. I watched as they just drank beer and wrestled each other. Jack Sat down and pulled me to his lap.

"You are definitely the girl of the group" he told me his hand cupping my ass.

"What does that mean" I asked softly.

"You will do what girls do for us" he told me. Then kissed me. I was shaking as he then led me his truck and drove me home. As he dropped me off I hesitated. How did I look before I went inside. I was still pretty stoned. My mom was still up looked at me and smiled.

"You have fun honey" she asked

"Yeah" I laughed. I went to bed and passed out. Jake showed up at my house the next morning at 10. I was still asleep. My mother sent him into my room to wake me up. I woke to him sitting on my bed. His hand down my boxers rubbing my ass.

"Wake up sleepy head. I got a surprise for you" he told me. I came to and freaked jumping up.

"Shh, Jake whispered" he pulled down my boxers and stroked me a few times. He stopped

"Better get a move on" he told me and left. I jumped in the shower. As I rushed back to my room. I heard My mom talking to Jake. I couldn't find any clean jeans and rushed to the laundry room. I grabbed my jeans but next to them was a pile of my mother's things. I stopped I flipped thru and grabbed a pair of her panties and rushed back to my room. I slid the panties on they where simple cotton white panties but they felt so sexy. I finished getting dressed and headed out with Jake. Mom handing me an egg sandwich. On the way out the door. As soon as we where out of the driveway Jake handed me a joint. I took a hit and handed it back.

"You enjoyed last night didn't you?" He asked. I blushed and took another hit. Then laid across the old bench seat in his truck my head on his lap. I felt his hand slid down the back of my pants. He pulled over quickly.

"What are you wearing?" He asked surprised. I sat up and undid my jeans showing him my mother panties.

"You can" I fell silent I wasn't sure. But I wanted him.

"The guys will eat this up, they will rape you all day long" he told me. I was scared and excited.

"Can't it just be you" I asked in a meek voice. Sliding close to him my hand rubbing his hard cock thru his jeans. He started to drive again.

"Roger just wants to get off. Bill just goes along with everyone but Pete he wants the whol domination experience" Jack was telling me I pulled his cock out and stroked him.

"What do you want" I said softly.

"I you can never tell" he said. "I like girlie boys" he said now he was blushing. I went down and started to suck his cock. He pulled into a secluded spot. He finished in my mouth. I licked him clean.

"I don't know if I am gay or what. But I know I am attracted to you" I told him. He showed me some of the stuff he liked to watch on his phone. It was alot of twink porn. He didn't want a girl he wanted a little gay sissy to fuck. It turned me on as well. He had me pull down my jeans and he rubbed my ass thru my mother's panties. I was rock hard and throbbing. He had sent the guys a text saying we weren't going to make it. I wanted him to touch my dick but he was careful not to. He pulled me close and kissed me. I was going to explode.

"I want to fuck your plump little ass" he told me. I nodded. But we had no lube. He stopped and drove me to his house. I tried to act all non crazy with lust for him as he led me into a barn. He grabbed a tube of something off the shelf and led me up to a loft. The barn smelled so bad. But he grabbed me and practically tore my pants and panties off. Bent me over and smeared the tube all over my ass. I moment later he shoved his cock in my ass. I yelled. He didn't stop. Fucking me. I tried to be quiet as he tore my ass in two. He didn't stop until he had filled my ass with his cum. He half collapsed on top of me. His cock growing soft inside me.

He let me up.

"Did I hurt you?" He asked concerned. I smiled and kissed him my erection gone. My ass sore. I pulled my clothes back on. As we climbed out of the loft, A woman stood waiting.

"Dad not going to like this" she said. I timidly hid behing Jack. She then turned to me.

"Hi I'm Mary this idiot big sister" she told me. Offering me her hand. Her hands where rough and big. "Take your friend home and get back here we got work to do" Mary told him.

"I can help" I crackled. Still holding on to jack.

"Take him home" Mary told Jack. He led me to his truck and drove me home. He stopped and kissed me before we turned down my road. He dropped me off at the end of the driveway and I went inside to take a shower. Cum, lube and even a little blood was soaked into my mother's panties. I felt my asshole it felt huge. Nobody was home so I took a long shower. I noticed my mother's razor in the shower and shaved my ass. But I kept going I shaved off all my pubic hair as well and jerked off thinking about Jake. I went into my parents room after. I searched thru my mother's drawers. I felt so naughty as I looked thru her things. I opened a drawer full of very sexy lingerie. I was amazed my mother owned such sexy things. But also wondered if Jack would love to see me wear them. I took a black pair of lacy panties and ran back to my room. I put them on under my clothes. They rode up giving me a wedgie whenever I moved. I became accustomed to them rubbing against my sore asshole.

Jake would pick me up everyday and drive me to school. I tried to act like we were just friends. But I so wanted to kiss him in the hall between classes like the girls did to thier boyfriends. The guys left me be. I wasn't sure what Jack had told them. But everyday on the way home we would stop and I would suck his cock. And swallow his load. When I got home I would jerk off. It had been only a week and I couldn't take it anymore. I found myself sneaking into my mother's things again. Trying on bras and stockings. I loved the feel of all the soft fabrics. I shaved my legs and instantly regretted it. Knowing someone would notice.

Saturday night Jake picked me up. I wore little red panties under my jeans. As we drove off.

"I want you so bad" I told him almost climbing in his lap. He pulled over and grabbed the tube of lube. They used it to insemination cows. Shoving there hands inside them. I pulled off my pants. Showing him the pretty panties and shaved legs. He kissed me and bent me over the hood of his truck. He fucked me so good. Coming inside me again.

"You are mine now" he told me. I got dressed but he grabbed my shirt and cut it with his knife. I put it on and my belly showed. Then he yanked up my panties so the waist band showed over my jeans, I felt exposed as he drove to the party. Once there I didn't want to go. He dragged me put of the truck. Terrified I held his arm and his shyly behind him. I got alot of laughed and strange looks. Pete even smacked my ass. But one look from Jack and he backed off. We walked up to the keg to get a drink. And ran right into my little sister Terry.

"Holy shit" she spit out the beer she was sipping. Jake introduced himself when night was suddenly unable to speak.

"Jake, Paulie's boyfriend" he told her. She just smiled and introduced her date. Some kid Jake already knew. Terry walked up to me and pulled the waist band of my panties.

"Are those mom's she giggled. As he date walked her away with his hand on her ass. I spent the whole party clinging to Jake afraid to be away from him. It was after midnight when we left. Jake fucked me again on some little dirt side road before he took me home. I heard My parents in their room when I came in bit just went to bed.

I woke late to yelling.

"I don't care you where way past your curfew" my mother told Terry. I stumbled into the kitchen to grab something to eat.

"Why isn't Paul grounded then" Terry yelled.

"Your brother is older then you" my father said quietly from the table.

"You came home late, drunk with some boy we don't know" my mother continued. I wanted to stay out of this and went to leave with my orange juice.

"Paul's boyfriend knows him" Terry spit out. I almost swallowed my tounge. As my mother and father both stooped and stared at me.

"Terry you are excused" my father said. Terry stormed off.

"Paul we support you in whatever you choose" my father said softly.

"Jake is a very nice boy" my mother smiled.

"Jake?" My father said surprised.

"Of course it's Jake isn't it?" My mother said running her hand thru my hair.

"Yes, I don't know maybe it's just" my words drifted away.

"He should come for dinner either way" my father announced. I went and showered. Terry was in my room waiting

"Sorry I didn't mean I was just mad" she said

"I know it's okay" I told her. She hugged me and headed back to her room. A moment later my mother knocked I was still in my robe. She closed the door.

"You been in my things?" She asked.

"Yes, I am sorry" I told her.

"You can't go into my things" she told me. "Get dressed we will go out and talk" she told me. I got dressed. My mom drove for a long time. As we talked. We talked about being safe, and predators. Seemed like a dating talk like my dad had given me years ago. Just a girls point of view. Then she asked.

"Do you want to be a girl?"

"I don't know" I muttered.

"I liked wearing your underwear and I love how Jake makes me feel" I confessed.

"You too have had sex?" She asked. I blushed unable to answer. Just as we pulled into a shopping center.

"Your father gave us a budget but you can get anything you fancy" my mother told me. She led me straight towards woman's intimates. I was suddenly surrounded by pastel colors, lace and satin. I grew very shy.and my mother let me shop with my eyes, she watched and if I saw something I liked she would find it in my size and put it in the cart.

"You don't need one but do you want one" she whispered on my ear looking at bras. I blushed and my mother went and picked some out.

"You have to try one on make sure it fits" she told me. I couldn't but she grabbed some jeans and stuffed the bra in between and asked the women for the changing room. I tried on the bra, it fit I had trouble hooking it but got it. Another pair of jeans flipped over the door.

"Try these as well" my mother said. I tried on the jeans they fit odd. I realized they set lower. My mother had given my girls jeans. The first pair was too loose. The second fit better. I got more comfortable and excited to try things on. We left with two huge bags of clothes.

"Terry never let's me help her go shopping." My mother smiled. On the ride home I opened up about Jake exposing me at the party. And how he kissed me. Leaving out the sex parts other then to confirm we had had sex.

"You should go to school tomorrow in your new clothes then. Everyone already knows" my mother assured me. She even helped me pick out the outfit. A pair of tight fitting jeans with flowers on the rear pockets. With a pink tee shirt that had spaghetti straps with a white blouse over it.

"You could even wear one of your bras under it all if you wanted to" my mother told me.

The next morning I sat at the breakfast table wearing exactly what my mother had suggested minus the bra. But I did have a cute pink thong on. As Jake picked me up. I sat up against him as he drove my hand on his thigh the whole way. I walked with my hand wrapped around his arm through the school. He walked me to my first class and kisses me.

"Meet you right here" he told me.

"Paula" I told him and skipped into class. I got teased a little mostly by girls the boys to afraid of Jake. But I didn't care. We dated all year even going to prom together. Mom had gotten me the pretties gown. It was way to girlie but I loved it. I became a girl for the most part. Nails always done, my hair grew out some. Terry started dating a guy named Tom. And we would actually double date. So mom didn't worry. I couldn't get enough of Jack. His father disapproved but did nothing to stop us. We are about to graduate and Jake has still never made me cum. While i make him cum everyday. He will be going off to school it's only an hour away. I can't imagine a day without his cock.

[michaelmilligan]

The Jonmartin manifesto no one asked for but needed to get out

So, I've not been in the tma fandom for long yet, having only listened to it for the first time a few months ago. But from browsing the Jonmartin (and teaholding and jmart) tag regularly, it seems to me like most jonmartin shippers fall into one of these two categories:

They would find each other in every universe; or

It's a miracle they even got together in this universe

(Obviously, that's an oversimplification, and people who express one view in one post can easily hold a different view at another time - these are fictional characters we're talking about after all, and headcanons don't need to be consistent and can even contradict each other. This is just the general vibe I got so far.)

Anyway, I wanted to add my own two cents on the topic, because while I understand where both of these views are coming from, I think neither of them is ultimately correct.

(Putting the rest under a read more - be warned that this is NOT a spoiler-free post, so if you haven't finished listening to TMA yet and you want a spoiler-free experience, you probably shouldn't read this.)

So, before we get to my own opinion, let's first look at where the two options I mentioned above come from, shall we?

"They would find each other in every universe"

Obviously, this view is highly romantic - star-crossed lovers, finding each other again and again. It is both a good foundational basis for AUs, and a ray of hope in the face of the tragedy that is the tma finale.

Of course, concerning the finale, this is a rather different take than concerning AUs (since it would mean the very same characters finding each other again in a different world, not fundamentally different characters, shaped by said other world, also finding each other). And maybe when people express this view, they mean more the finale fix-its than AUs, though I suspect that plenty of people mean both.

It's a nice, comforting thought. And don't we all need some comfort after the finale? Yes, we certainly do. (Except for the people who read only hurt without comfort and angst, I guess. You do you, and I'm glad you're having fun, but personally I do desperately need some comfort, lmao.)

Is this view supported by canon though?

Cynical minds would say no, and personally I'm more inclined to agree with them, though as I've said, for me the truth lies outside of those two rigid stances (somewhere in between, I suppose).

I don't see much in canon which points to Jon and Martin falling in love under any circumstances/in any universe, especially considering their... let's say difficult relationships at the start of the show. But of course we must also take into account the specific circumstances in canon (more on that below) and interpretations vary, and I do very much enjoy AUs, so I'm certainly not trying to throw shade if you're on this side of the 'divide'.

Mostly, I think there CAN be other circumstances in which those two get together, outside the canon ones. (I'm writing a canon-divergent jonmartin fic myself, lol.) Let's get into that while we look at the other view, shall we.

"It's a miracle they even got together in this one"

Ah, the Martin-approved stance. One could say 'well, they literally said it in canon' and be done with it. However, that would require us to believe that the opinions of the characters are always true and correct, which. Lmao. We only have to listen to season 2 of tma to know that this is very much not the case.

And even if S5 Martin is not S2 Jon at the height of his paranoia, he's still very much a man shaped by his own life and experiences. I'm sure he would call himself a realist, but he honestly seems more like a pessimist to me. Which is understandable, given his life, and his association with the Lonely, which has often been (in my opinion accurately) compared to depression.

The thing is, Jon did treat Martin horribly in S1, and then he admittedly treated everyone horribly in S2. It was only in the course of S3 that their relationship got more, let's say, equal, with Jon no longer thinking Martin would be 'contributing nothing but delays'. (And then of course we have S4, which I LOVE even though it hurts me deeply. Then again, that's the whole show. And, obviously, S5 my beloved.)

So. Jon seemed to hate Martin in S1, while Martin was arguably already in love with the man. (Arguably. We do know that he acted catty to Basira in S2, so it's reasonable to assume that he started liking him at some point in S1, or even before the show started.) Then a lot of traumatic things happened, and they got together.

This means it must be the traumatic things that made them compatible, right? Just like Martin says in S5?

Well, one could see it that way. Jon certainly changed over the seasons, coming off his high horse and such. (In S5, he arguably gets back on it quite a bit, but then he IS the Eye's specialest little princess in a world that's literally ruled by it. And also he is slowly losing his grip on his own humanity. But I digress.)

And I do think that the trauma channeled a lot of those changes - the first time we see Jon being actually emotionally open (something he still struggles with over all seasons, because people don't just change fundamentally that quickly) is during Prentiss' attack on the Institute. They're in a situation where they might reasonably die (they even expect it, because they don't know that Elias is just rubbing his greedy little paws as he waits for things to get worse before he saves them with the gas).

I do think that moment could have been a big turning point for Jon and Martin, if it hadn't been immediately followed with the discovery of Gertrude's body, and Jon's subsequent descent into paranoia. Jon opened up, and also saw that Martin was rather competent during the attack, which could have led to them becoming closer, respectively having at least something like a normal work relationship.

But then Jon got paranoid and interpreted everything he saw negatively, including Martin's competence, which was twisted in his mind to 'What if he's just been pretending to be incompetent and is actually an evil agent out to kill the archivist'.

(Big sigh.)

Anyway, before I lose myself in the red string as well: Yes, Jon seems to 'mellow' over the seasons, especially with regard to Martin, at the same time that he's going through terribly traumatic events.

But does that mean that it's actually the trauma that's changing him and his relationships? Partly, certainly, but I would argue that trauma doesn't make you nicer or kinder. It might make you realise some things, but that doesn't mean that you can't realise those things in other ways.

And does it means that they couldn't have come together if they had met under different circumstances? Also not necessarily! I would even argue that the specific circumstances they met under were detrimental to Jon's first impression of Martin. And yes, this goes beyond the dog story.

So let's try and dissect their relationship from the start.

A theory of... something like nuance, or whatever

The starting situation

(Yes, I did have to use a Supernatural gif, thank you for asking. No, I will not apologise. <3)

Alright. So let's start with what we actually know about Jon and Martin's first meeting. Obviously, there's the dog story, though as far as I know that's not 'canon' because it wasn't actually in the podcast. I still like it, and think it adds another reason to Jon's behaviour, though I don't necessarily think it's necessary, because Jon already had lots of other reasons to tell himself that Martin wasn't worth his time.

1.1. Jon has issues. More at 11.

First of all, we learn throughout the podcast that Jon doesn't actually have any qualifications to lead an archive. He's probably 29 when the show starts (in 2016, going by the fandom wiki stating that he was born in 1987, which is reasonable given everything we learn about his age).

So, he's 29 and suddenly appointed, after four years of working in one department, to become the head of a completely different department. He does not have a degree that would give him credentials for leading an archive, nor are we told that he has ever even worked in an archive. For all we know, and that he knows, he is woefully underqualified. (This is also, I think, highlighted in S2 when Jon threatens to resign, only to then be baffled by Elias saying that he would be difficult to replace. Elias means something completely different than his skill set as an archivist with a lower case 'a', presumably, but then Jon doesn't know that.)

This means that Jon is in a highly stressful position, because he's trying to do a job he doesn't actually know how to do, while also trying not to let on that he doesn't know how to do it!

It doesn't help that Jon is also terribly scared of what all might be lurking in the shadows (or even in the light), as he himself admits during the Prentiss attack. He is extremely high-strung from day one, basically a wet chihuahua shaking in a slight breeze, while trying to seem like a strong bulldog.

We also know that Jon asked for two people to be his assistants: Tim and Sasha. They both worked in research, and Sasha also briefly worked in artefact storage, making them both qualified to help Jon with following up on statements. But I think more than their qualifications, Jon probably requested them because he knew and got along with them.

Imagine: Your boss tells you that he's promoting you into a position you're not qualified for and which you have no real clue how to do. Wouldn't you rather have people around you who you're already friendly with, and who are likely to cut you some slack if you're not perfect on day one? I know I would!

1.2. Elias is a little shit and I want to kill him with hammers (affectionately)

And then Elias transfers Martin.

I'm going off the dog story again, because again, I like it, and I think it does fit neatly into canon. If this story is to be believed, Elias neither asked nor did he tell Jon that he was giving him another assistant. He apparently simply told Martin 'you work at the archives now, congratulations' and then went back to his office to smile smugly to himself.

This is a VERY bad start for a working relationship, because not only does Martin come in unannounced, this also comes off as Elias not respecting Jon, or potentially even sending someone to report back to Elias (because Martin is the only one who doesn't have an established rapport with Jon).

Jon never verbalises this suspicion, so maybe this is too much interpretation on my part, but in any case it's cause for a lot of resentment on Jon's part, and since he can't exactly let it out on Elias (who is rarely there, anyway), he simply lets it out on Martin.

He finds reasons to do so, of course, insulting his work and all that. It's probably easy, especially in the beginning, because not unlike Jon, Martin doesn't have any qualifications to work in an archive! He worked at the library before, and we know that his degree is made up (which we can only assume Elias knows, considering he can know almost anything).

(I actually find the question on why Elias transferred Martin in the first place extremely interesting, and might get into that in another post. But this one is already too long, lmao.)

1.3. Martin is too nice, aka Jon has even more issues

This is mostly my personal headcanon, though I do feel it fits Jon's character - which is that he doesn't know how to deal with nice people.

Not kind people. Not friendly people. But nice people.

People who do things seemingly out of the mere goodness of their heart. Like bringing their mean boss tea when he never asked them to do that. Like being friendly even in the face of insults. Someone who constantly takes himself back in favour of other people and their opinions.

People like Martin is appearing to be. Appearing, because Martin isn't actually like that. He does have his opinions, and he could probably grumble up a storm in S1 about Jon, but Jon is his BOSS, and so he plays.

Martin also IS genuinely a nice person most of the time (when he's not on a revenge rampage, making his boyfriend murder people). He doesn't have to do nice things for Jon like bring him tea in S2. But he does. Because that's Martin's way of trying to reach out, to show other people that he means no harm (and that he can be useful).

(I also think that Jon's snappish behaviour, where Martin never quite knows what will set the man off, might remind him off his mum, but again I digress. :))

But I think Jon doesn't know how to deal with that, because even when he's not in the height of paranoia, he still suspects that people who are THAT nice (especially when they have no reason to be nice because he's being an arsehole to them) have a secret agenda. This is playing into what I said under 2 (the part that might be too much interpretation on my side lol), because if Jon suspects that Martin is reporting back to Elias, or is at least someone who would not be friendly if he found out that Jon doesn't know what he's doing, then he can't allow himself to relax around him, and he certainly can't allow himself to be lulled into false security (as Jon would think) around him.

Tl;dr on this point: I think Jon is wary of Martin's niceness because he thinks he might be fishing for gossip/anything he can use against Jon. And even if he isn't, Jon thinks he would be likely to use anything he learns against Jon, because they weren't friends to begin with, and Jon's behaviour has made them anything but that.

(We have to remember that this is the guy who says in S2 that he knows what it's like to 'lack the respect of one's peers', aka the kid who got bullied by at least one older kid, and likely had no or very few friends - plus he believes in the supernatural, which doesn't exactly lend itself well to getting academic respect.)

1.4. They were fucked from the start, your honour

Basically what the meme says, but yeah. The they were put in practically guaranteed that Jon would be wary of Martin, and that Martin would be trying extra hard to make friends with him, which in turn would make Jon even more wary/hostile.

And Elias made it worse, either knowingly or by negligence (not telling Jon about transferring Martin).

If we add the whole dog story to it... they were fucked. I do actually wonder if, assuming we take the dog story as canon, Elias actually somehow managed to set that up. Or whether he was at least cackling (sorry, smiling ever so silently, but smugly) in his office as it happened, or whenever he ended up knowing that it happened.

2. Yes, we've had one starting point, but what about second starting point?

As we have established above, the starting situation for Jon and Martin was... not ideal. So, would they have gotten together easily given a different starting point, like in a cute coffee shop AU?

Eh.

It's true that the specific situation they were in made it a lot harder for them to actually communicate and see each other as they are than it had to be. That doesn't mean that a different situation would have made it easy, though.

Their personalities still make it hard, though, as even without the added stress of a new job, Jon is still a little chihuahua shaking in the corner, who tries to make up for it by barking at everyone, and Martin is still the guy trying to approach him with treats and getting his hand bitten.

There are certainly specific situation that could make it easier, especially if Jon isn't scared as hell, and has maybe already learned that not everyone who does something nice for him wants to just pull on his strings. (Yes, I do think that the thing that makes Martin, according to Annabelle, suited for the Web, is the thing that put Jon on edge at the beginning. I don't know if this was intended at all, but it makes me cackle.)

The beauty of fanfic is that we can do whatever the hell we want. But I think the most fun thing an AU author can do is think 'What would have to happen, in this specific scenario, for these two to get over themselves and get together?'

Excursion: Martin, my beloved depressed blorbo who I am certainly not projecting on, haha

Because it IS both of them who need to get over themselves. Of course Jon's issues are the most obvious, and I've certainly expanded on them enough. But Martin also has a problem, and it's that he's constantly hiding his true feelings and opinions, especially anger and fear.

That makes sense, perhaps, in a workplace, though considering he's dealing with a walking, talking worm hive and a stalker boss... Let's just say it probably would have helped Tim, too, if Martin hadn't been so desperate to make everyone be friends again.

Because Martin is always TRYING to make everything better for everyone, but he's actually not helping anyone. Being nice to Jon and bringing him tea doesn't help battle his paranoia. And trying to tell Tim not to be so angry at Jon, and can't they all be friends, doesn't actually help Tim with his anger.

All Martin is essentially doing is making himself small and saying 'let's get along, pretty please' every now and then. I don't know if it would have helped if he had expressed his own fears and anger, and maybe Jon would have misconstrued that as well, too deep in his paranoia already. But at least Tim might have realised that he was not alone in all this. (His biggest problem, as he says in S2, is that he feels that no one has his back, which I think at least partly results from no one expressing the same anger, aka no one validating his feelings.)

Anyway! (Jon voice) Excursion ends.

3. (To the melody of 'What shall we do with the drunken sailor') What shall we do with these total idiots?

So, how ARE these two going to get together, if they're so woefully unequipped to deal with each other?

Well, first we need to give Martin a good helping of self-confidence. Then we need to kind of give Jon the same, since his problem ALSO is that he's unsure of himself, he just tries to make other people small to cover it up, instead of making himself small. (And isn't that a funny thing to do for someone who we know was bullied. To become a bully himself. Oh, the snake, biting its own tail...)

The easy answer is, of course: You can come up with your own version, get creative. <3

The more complex answer is: A lot of stuff, probably. Jon and Martin will certainly need time to get to know each other, and of course it depends on what situation you put them in to start. But there will be misunderstandings, and there will be hurt feelings, and I am going to soak it up all like a particularly slowburn-greedy sponge.

I feel like there are probably five million ways to get them together, and some might be cute and fluffy (if they go to therapy first, I guess, lol) and many will be full of tears. <3 (Jon voice) And I want to see them all on my desk by Friday! So get to it!

In all seriousness though, yeah, I think there's not one right way for them to get together (though canon did it well imo). But it's also a little more complex than we might give it credit to (very much including me).

4. So what now?

I don't know. I'm not your dad. Write a fic. Draw a picture. Put down your own thoughts on the matter. Or take a shower and clean up your room, young Padawan!

(Though actually, if you've read this post from start to finish in one session, what you should probably do is get up and stretch and get some water.)

And above all! And this is imperative.

Have a good day. <3

[readychilledwine]

what do you think prythian's food is like? Like how does the food differ in each court? Which one is known for spicier food? Or meat centric or veggie centric food? Summer would probably have more seafood right?

The Food of Prythian Headcanons

Warnings - Mentions of alcohol. While this is food based, it is based on the vibes of what I felt the culture of each court would be like in comparison to real places in our world. Some of these may be discussion worthy. We handle that in polite ways. Also, Liz thirsting over Helion's thighs.

A/N - The gif had to be Anime food. No cooking show makes ya girl hungry like anime food does. Welcome to the beginning of the requests being queue. Some of you have waited a very long time for me to get out of my funk. I cannot thank you all enough for that.

Spring-

Spring in my opinion would be French style foods. Why? Because of how SJM described the molten chocolate Feyre had.

I imagine Spring to have fresh ingredients that, combined with meats, make light but filling meals and vibrate plates.

I see Tamlin as the cheese board kind of guy. I think Spring would be filled with different cheeses from around the map and lands and people capable of telling you all about them and proper pairings.

Wine. I know we hear about wine a lot in Night, but I will never drop the headcanon that Spring is 7 course meals with different wine pairs as the meal progresses

Overall, I imagine Spring to be filled with dishes that are focused on fresh and quality. I think they'd have a wide variety of options for meats and game.

Ps, edible flowers. They garnish plates with edible flowers

Summer-

Hear me out, I think Summer would be a combination of Hispanic and Latin foods

Summer is seafood heavy, no doubt. Fresh catches served after flavorful preparations.

Summer isn't afraid of seasoning. Nor spice. I think in terms of getting your spicy food fix, Summer is your best options.

Access to fresh fish and summertime thriving fruits such as limes and lemons, naturally Ceviche is a very common dish to be served and a traditional welcome meal for guests.

Pazole would also be right up there with the incorporation of fresh peppers and produce to make it flavorful and impactful.

Alcohol pairings in summer also include fruity mixes. Tarquin is a margarita on the rocks baddie. I will die on that hill.

Autumn-

I'm hiding from how controversial this one might be. I was torn with Autumn because of how Eris and Lucien are written. I think the Forest House with the High Lord and his family do not eat traditional Autumn cuisine and try to separate themselves. So, for Autumn, I am torn but will be focusing on my gut instinct.

Autumn is English and Irish cuisines. Hearty beef stews, bangers and mash, Yorkshire pudding. Meals in Autumn are warm, heavy, and meant to be fulfilling at a price point that even the lowest income families can pull off. Spoiler, I 100% think Lucien and Eris are throwing down bangers and mash. Why? Because it feels right.

Breakfasts tend to have a variety on the plate. Eggs and sausage served over beans was an immediate one that came to mind for me.

I think game meat is also very common in Autumn, but farming is the primary meat source. Cattle, boar, and sheep would make up the majority of dishes with chicken being a last choice.

I think fish is potentially common in Autumn, but they are tinned fish central. And let's not bash tinned fish. You can do a lot with it and create meals for a fairly decent price.

Autumn is spiked cider country. Apples grown so rapidly here that they had to find a way to work them into their drinks. Mother bless the barmaid who asked for some rum and said to hold her mead. Apples since have been worked into whiskey, wine, vodka, and whatever else they could sell. Cinnamon apple whiskey is a personal favorite of Eris's. I asked him myself.

Winter-

Winter to me has very Slavic vibes. With it being so bittery cold, though, I imagine their diets are filled with soups and very heavy stews.

Winter is a season that would struggle with produce and with how I picture trade systems working in Prythian, I'll bluntly say it, Winter is the pickled everything part of Prythian.

Pickled fish, vegetables, and olives are all very common ingredients in meals and as snacks.

Root vegetables such as onions, garlic, and potatoes are featured in every meal. They're known to grow in harsh environments, and paired together can be a great base to a meal.

Game meat is common here. Venison, elk and some options that we may less commonly think of such as bear, fox, wild big cats, and rabbit

Drinks wise, like the foods, it is about warmth. Mulled wines, warm ciders, anything to keep their hands warm and bellies full.

Dawn-

It would have been far too easy to argue Dawn is 24/7 breakfast, but I think Thesan is very into cuisine that touched the homelands of his Court's population.

Dawn is heavily leaning to Japanese and Asian styled foods. Bright dishes, bold flavor, and full of experiments and experiences. I don't think there is a dull meal in Dawn.

Dawn is filled with brothy soups centering around rich cuts of meat, different styles of noodles, and an ever rotating flavor profile as seasons change.

Seafood is common in Dawn, but they're open to trying any form of proteins. Eggs are a favorite.

I think meals in Dawn vary from you feeling heavy and ready for a nap afterward to something light and refreshing. I think this variation comes with seasons and availability to ingredients.

Dawn is drinking a variety of things. Hard liquor with touches of fruit, hearty beers, plum based wines, and teas. Dawn is filled with variety in the beverages, all paired perfectly to compliment meals.

Day-

Helion and the Day Court had to be a Mediterranean diet. I won't apologize. She can't describe thigh daddy as wearing white togas, snake arm bands, and not expect me to decide he serves me my favorite cuisine post... thigh admiration.

I also feel this works well with the Day Court due to me picturing it as a similar situation where the days reach high grueling temperatures and Nights are made for dancing under the moonlight in anticipation of getting to see morning break and the sun begin to rise.

The Day Court is light meals during the day hours that center heavily around fruits, vegetables, and seafood kissed with notes of citrus. Nights are slightly heavier with touches of beef and lamb joining in.

Hummus. There's various hummus bowls at every meal, and each one is a different layer of flavor or spice. Helion ensures they are served with a variety of root vegetables, pita breads, or falafel.

Drinking is common, but beers are not. Even beverages are kept light in Day. Of all the courts, though, I feel the Day Court is heavily pushing water intake.

Night-

Full discretion. I wanted to break the Night Court into Velaris, Hewn City, and Illyria. Due to tumblr LIMITING MY CREATIVITY (jerks) i am focusing on Velaris.

Have you ever wanted to make love to your food or make love because of your food? If so, "Welcome to the Night Court."

I think Velaris doesn't necessarily have a region of food from our world, but instead, it is a melting pot due to the variety of citizens and walks of life there. One thing is always true, though, artistic expression is worked into food.

Velaris is known for gorgeous plates, high end cuts of meats, and things being extra. It is common to see edible gold leaf in Velaris.

Proteins wise, I think due to the melting pot, there isn't a common or most popular choice. Venison, beef, lamb, chicken, and seafood are all common. I do think Velaris leans towards roasted vegetables, though. Roasting them can bring out flavor and, most importantly, color. I heavily believe presentation is key here.

Chocolate dipprd fruits are a favorite, but dipped figs with a touch of sea salt are a go to dessert.

Wines. Prepare for wines with every turn. Full bodied reds, crisp whites, flirty rosé, and oh so bubbly champagne.

In short, food in Velaris is meant to make you feel something, to push boundaries and flavor palette, and to fill your tummy.

[kisolvetica]

Hello!!! Thanks for the tag!! <3 Didn't expect to be tagged to be honest but I'm glad I did get tagged! :D

Also I must say everyone who reblogged before me sounds like such cool people! :>

Last song: American Jesus by Bad Religion! At first I wanted to say a Bowie song because I was listening to it all day due to it having been his death anniversary but then my playlist thought to be like "I don't think so!" and played a different song I like. I am pretty much a person who listens to everything.

Favourite colour: Despite my layout having purple and blue as the primary colours, my favourite colours are yellow (especially the yellow daffodils have) and dark green! Obviously I also like my layout colours but I'd say green and yellow just feel so soothingly happy to me.

Last Book: I am currently reading Faust 1 by Goethe because my finals are creeping up and it's one of the books I may need for those lol. But I also enjoy the book quite a lot!

Last movie: The phantom of the opera! I watched it together with my mother one random evening last year and I haven't watched any movie since then. I do want to watch Nosferatu next, though!

Last TV show: My mother and I have started watching a lot of shows together (this includes DBDA but it was too gay to handle for her conservative mind and she noped out after the cat king was introduced) and the latest is "From" it's not really popular, I think, at least it doesn't have a lot of Fanfics but I did enjoy the first season. I am a little sceptical about how they always introduce a bunch of characters but I hope that they flesh them out! It does have sapphics though so that's a win.

Sweet/Spicy/Savoury: I do have a big sweet tooth but I think outside of snacks and chocolate I am more of a fan of spicy food? Like, if someone asked me whether I'd want a spicy or a sweet dish for dinner, Id probably be more inclined to choose the spicy one.

Last thing I searched online: I researched for a fanfic I want to write and so it's "Boarding schools in Edwardian Britain" (now take a big guess for which fandom!! It's so niche you will never figure it out /s)

Current Obsession: My obsession with Genshin and HSR is dying down quite a bit (let's face it, it's the fandom's fault) And now my focus is back on demons and Greek Mythology. I have the want to get into Athuriana literature as well but ugh I'm too busy for this. Outside of occultism and mythology, yeah, obviously DBDA. It hit me HARD and I'm not mad!!! ... Also my own OCs but that's something only I can fix.

Looking forward to: Graduation!! Yes, everyone is telling me that it only gets worse from now on (which,,, very promising btw) but I am so glad when I leave this school. At least at university I can choose a bit more of what I want to do. I am also gonna get a therapist which I am in dire need of and hopefully try to get gender affirming care at the end of the year. I already have a job lined up so the only other things I want to achieve this year is finishing up my driver's license and get the scholarship I applied for but that part is something I have no control over! Also, I might need to look out for apartments because of a reason surrounding my family situation but, well, I prefer living alone anyway. Just gotta see how I'm gonna support myself.

Ten people I'd like to know better: You know, I don't even know if I know the blog names of ten separate people or if they're even okay with me tagging them (what's the etiquette for that? I know that some other platforms were rather... nasty about it). So,,, if you come across this and you want to do this, I always like to read about other people's interests!! So pretend I tagged you, if we're mutuals or I follow you, I do know and like you, I am just an awkward person who doesn't know how to act with people :).

10 People I'd Like to Know Better

Thanks for the tags @gaiaseyes451 and @beerok23!💜!💜

last song: Gloria by the Lumineers

favourite colour: Red, like a deep luscious red that you know would taste good if you licked it. Don't act innocent, you know exactly what I mean by that. Red is a color that you just know tastes good.

last book: I am currently trying to read the Witcher series (per @lickthecowhappy's suggestion) so I am at the start of the Last Wish

last movie: Moana 2 (I have young kidsssss)

last TV show: My oldest is almost 10 which means she stays up late. Which also means I have so little time to watch adult things. So we've been watching the Office with her. I think I want to watch the Good Place with her next tho (I've never watched it!)

sweet/spicy/savoury: Sweet followed very, very closely by spicy. Habanero maple syrup is one of my favorite things on the planet.

last thing i searched online: How to explain a 10 year career hiatus in a cover letter (looking to return to work since having kids. It's been an interesting experience so far).

current obsession: Have not moved on from Good Omens, but recently realized that my obsession may be more in my own little connected universe of fics that I wrote rather than the actual canon at this point😳. I'm sure once we get that first glimpse of red and white hair that will change very quickly.

looking forward to: Going back to work and having a more established adult life again, honestly. I've been so lucky to be home with my kids while they are young, but I am ready. And figuring out how my newfound passion for writing is going to fit into that new life of mine. Another big year of change over here for me, and I am eagerly looking forward to how the growing pains are going to make way for something beautiful beyond.

ten people i’d like to know better:

@addledmongoose, @di-42, @afrenchwriter, @haemey, @eybefioro, @alwaystuesday, @katspause, @alphacentaurinebula, @shadesofecclescakes, @ochre-sunflower and whoever wants to do it (but also feel free to ignore!)

[mgghoney]

pairing// matthew gray gubler and reader || wc// 942

summary// you're surprised you're being rung first for once

"Your phone's been vibrating."

You look up at the girl, holding your flour-stained hands up as she laughs. "Answer for me?"

"On speaker?"

"Well I sure hope it isn't a stalker."

"It's a facetime."

"Can you prop it up on the counter?"

"Yeah."

"Is there a caller ID?" The other girl raises a brow.

"Some... white guy."

"Well, that makes one of two people." You nod as she answers, and you raise a brow when Matt's voice rings through.

"Well what do we have here?"

"Flour-stained hands that are about to smear the screen if you say something that could get us jailed." You wave, mixture stuck to your hands as the other girl turns around at the sound of a man.

"A MAN!?"

"Oh, my god. He's white too." She slaps a hand over her mouth, and Matt laughs.

"Who are you with?"

You introduce your friends, pointing to each one of them and motioning for another to come in, hand still working at the dough as the other girls look over to see him. He waves, and you hum. "This is Matt. He's my fourty-four year old white man best friend."

"Forever twenty one, excuse you." Matt corrects.

"Yeah, yeah, and I'm pushing fifty." You roll your eyes, squeezing at the dough.

One of the girls speaks up. "Did he dethrone white boy?"

"No. Matt's a man, unfortunately." You hum, staring at the dough. "I have him saved under fav white man."

"The dough's ready to rest. Go catch up with him." One of the girls shoo you.

"So you hate me."

"How'd you know?"

"Guess I'll just go kill myself, then." You roll your eyes, reaching to the side to wash out your hands.

"Hey, that's no fun." Matt hums. "Am I on speaker?"

"Yeah. I'll grab earbuds in a second." You nod, wiping your hands clean of the water.

"No rush."

You get your earbuds and settle on the couch, curling up.

"What were you guys doing?"

"Making dumplings. One of the girls wanted to try making them for the first time. I think you can tell just based off of..." You trail off, humming. "Why'd you call?"

"Wanted to see what you were up to. I've been at home these days and you haven't been calling." He hums.

"Yeah, I'm cramming in a handful of things before I start classes again." You look up at one of the girls on her phone and poking holes into the dough, holding back a laugh. "I think I overkneaded the dough."

"Hey, nothing a little science can't fix." He hums back. "You been alright?"

"Yeah." You raise a brow when you finally catch a good look at him, raising a brow. "Are you shirtless?"

"God forbid a man be shirtless in his own home."

"This is why you're not pulling."

"Don't be mean." He points, pouting. "Don't be mean."

"Sorry, dad." You roll your eyes, catching one of the girls staring at you. "If a rumor starts that I have a daddy kink you're gonna be reading my obituary very soon."

"I doubt it." He hums.

"Are you coming back soon?"

"I'll call you when I do. Do you wanna come grab me?"

"No car." You shake your head. "I'll pick you up on the subway, though."

"Not scared of my fans?"

"I think there's a fair chance that most people know you have friends anyway." You roll your eyes. "You been alright? Not too busy?"

"Not too busy at all." He shakes his head. "A short break."

"That's good." You hum. "I'm surprised you're not out wandering."

"I wanted to call to check if you're alright."

"I'm not home, but my family's fine. We're a little more south. I have... friends, and I'm sure you do too, who have had to evacuate." You rest your cheek on the back of the couch, staring at your friends.

"That's good."

"You alright? Family and friends?"

"A lot of friends have evacuated, but everyone's safe. Recovering won't be as nice, though." He hums.

"A lot of homes are going to have to be rebuilt." He sets you on the bedside, camera facing the ceiling as you look at your watch.

"Is it not dinner time for you?"

"It is."

"Did you eat already?"

"Went out with some friends."

"And you missed me?" You raise a brow.

"Yeah. Wanted to hear your voice. We haven't called in a while."

"I suppose so." You hum. "Missed you too. Can't wait to get you back here in the city."

"You'll be my first stop, promise."

"Awww..." You hold a hand to your chest, feigning comfort. "You say that as if you're not gonna book it to the indian place first thing."

"Hey, I'll be booking it and then you'll be joining me, obviously." He rolls his eyes. "How's the camera?"

"Clicking." You hum. "I took photos earlier."

"It's nice to think that I'll get a glimpse into your life outside of our calls."

"Hope my camera's serving its purpose too."

"It is. Always." He hums. "I'll let you go. I'm sure your friends have questions."

"One of them thought you were my high school classmate." You roll your eyes, humming.

"Which account did you change?"

"My discord." You watch as he picks up the phone again, waving at you.

"Tell her I'm honored."

"Oh, I'm sure you are." You hum, waving back. "I'll see you in a bit, Matt."

"Hey, you gonna come pick me up, yeah?"

"Of course I will." You smile. "I'll go with a pick up sign too."

"Then I'll be waiting. See you."

"See you. Love you lots."

"Love you too."