#or like have good gut health whatever that means

[blkwag]

[heeliopheelia]

LACY (p. jay)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

includes: oral (f receiving), fingering, crying, insecurities, soft dom! jay, praising, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, hate comments

word count: 3.4k

synopsis: 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘫𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧-𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩

guts event masterlist ⋆♱✮♱⋆ main masterlist

Looking at your phone makes you want to throw up. 

“out of literally everyone he pulls… that? gotta be a joke”

“jay deserves sm better”

“if that thing got a chance with him that means i’d be unstoppable”

“pls tell me this is a joke”

“girlie gotta have a crazy head game cuz ain’t no way lmfao”

As if you don’t feel bad enough about yourself already. 

Ever since the photo of you and your boyfriend coming back from a date leaked to the internet, there’s been nothing but a ridiculous amount of hatred directed towards your clueless self. 

In the morning Jay’s text saying please stay offline today baby was enough to make your stomach churn without even knowing what was actually happening. And against his words and your common sense, your fingers instantly went to the first better social media app on screen’s your homepage.

And so with every single comment put out on the internet, you feel your confidence and self-worth slowly crumbling down until they have eventually worn you out and you’re nothing but a sobbing mess ever since the morning. Your head hurts from all the crying yet the slightly masochistic part of yourself doesn’t let you tear your gaze away from the screen.

Maybe it’s because deep down you’ve always felt like you’re not good enough to be dating such a man as Jay, and the insecure thoughts he’s worked so hard to bury six feet underneath your feet have just resurfaced once again. 

Knowing he’s surrounded by almost literal embodiments of the beauty standard on a daily basis and then having to come home to a plain nobody like you can’t be good for no one’s mental health, that’s for sure. 

“Baby?”

The lump stretches your throat too painfully for you to make any other sound than the whimper you let out, and soon you hear Jay’s footsteps approaching your suffocatingly silent room.

“Are you there, love?” 

You press your trembling lips together and nod your head, trying to force yourself to stop being so emotional for once. The last thing you want him to do is deal with… this, whatever your current state is. 

“You’ve been reading the comments,” he points out quietly, but not with accusation – only worry. His heart squeezes with desperation to somehow make you feel better, yet you take his silence as a sign of disappointment in you. 

And somehow you can’t bring yourself to look into his eyes, too swallowed by shame. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper eventually after a couple beats of silence. Your head drops lowly onto your bunched up knees. “I just had to see it myself.”

“Hey, no more twitter, no more instagram – no more,” Jay pleads softly as he carefully takes your phone out of your weak grasp and sets it on the bedside table, only to thread his fingers through yours and intertwine them together. “Don’t do this to yourself. Please, stop crying, beautiful. They don’t deserve your tears, hm?”

A sob rips out of your throat and echoes through the silent room, simultaneously breaking your boyfriend’s heart in two. “It’s just… I-,” you’re unable to finish your sentence with the hundreds of thoughts running around your mind, not giving you a moment of peace since hours ago.

“I know nothing I say will make you feel better now,” Jay whispers, shuffling closer on the bed until his chest is pressed against your shoulder and he envelops you in a protective embrace. He presses a warm kiss to your temple. “I love you. I hate to see you like that, honey.”

You nod your head, sniffling loudly and choking on your own sobs. “I love you too,” you cry quietly, moving your head to rest against his chest. “I just don’t feel good with myself right now.”

Jay hums. His hands blindly reach to your face to wipe your tears away, fingers gently caressing your damp face. “I know.” His words are muffled by your hair as he nuzzles his face in it. “I’m sorry.”

You can clearly hear the violent beating of his heart from your position and the insides of your stomach twist with sadness because you know well he’s blaming himself for everything. He promised to protect you at the beginning of your relationship, forever and always, and yet he’s failed at the one thing that should’ve been of the highest importance to him.

He felt conflicted about his job more times than he would like to admit. The constant restrictions, always having to watch his words and actions, the almost non-existent privacy – it was tough, annoying, but he could take it. 

But he’s never hated being who he is more than he does right now. Seeing the person he loves the most, the person who holds his entire world, being in such a miserable state because of his job makes him feel just so helpless.

Swallowing his self-pity, Jay soothes you as gently as he can. His fingers thread through your hair, waiting patiently until your heavy sobs turn into hiccups and eventually small whimpers. 

“I chose you, YN,” he finally says softly, hand pushing the hair sticking to your face away as the other one cups your cheek and brings you to look at him. “I chose you and I’d choose you over everyone else. It’s always going to be you. Always.” 

You blink your lashes heavy with tears, cheeks stinging from the excessive amount of them that has dropped down your face. He nudges your cheek with his nose before pressing a gentle kiss to your brow bone. This tender gesture and his words finally allow the smallest smile to appear on your lips. 

“There’s my pretty girl,” Jay giggled. His arms wrap tighter around you before he lifts you up and pulls you onto his lap. “You know, it’s okay if you don’t fully love yourself yet, I can do it for the both of us for now, baby. Please, believe me.” 

You nod your head, now choked up for a whole different reason. You let him lean in and join your lips together in a sweet kiss. His knuckles caress your cheeks and chin as he plants a chain of pecks on your swollen mouth.  

He tries to break the kiss but you don’t let him get too far away, pulling him back in by his neck and crashing your lips together again, this time more desperately. Jay’s fingers slip into the loopholes of your pants, bringing you closer and closer until there’s no space left between your chests. 

The hushed I love you’s coming out from both of your mouths, his warm lips sucking a kiss after kiss on yours, his hand that drops down and sneaks underneath your top to linger over your skin – you’re becoming dizzy from the overwhelming love you’re being given.

“I’ve achieved everything because of you, love. I am who I am because of you,” he breathes out into your lips, forehead bumping against yours. One last time, he kisses the whatever is left of your tears away, then goes back to your hungry lips. “I’d give you the world if you asked me to. Let me take care of you, like you always do for me.”

With a strong move, he pulls you off his lap and lays you down on the plushy bedding. You shiver when the warmth of his body leaves you, only to catch your breath when he drops to the ground with the dull sound of his knees hitting the wooden floor. 

His warm hands rub your thighs soothingly, palming your inflamed skin before his lips follow their lead and pepper small kisses all over them, gradually traveling higher. You can hardly breathe from the tension, impatiently waiting for his every next move, the exhaustion in your body making you feel everything tenfold. 

The whisper you let out is strangled because of the prominent tingling in between your thighs. “I need you, Jay.”

With a hum of acknowledgement, he unzips then takes off your pants along with your underwear, discarding the clothes somewhere on the floor blindly.  Breath hitches in your throat when he leans forward and finally buries his face between your legs, lips softly grazing your warmth.  

His hands push on your inner thighs, holding your legs wide open as he leans down and presses a kiss to your pussy. A jolt shoots through your body when his teeth brush over your clit before he ducks his head down and engulfs it with his warm mouth entirely.

A shiver runs down your spine when his tongue runs flat against your clit, another but longer lick following right after. Your fingers clench on the duvet beneath you as you pant and whimper with every move that he makes. 

Jay’s thumbs circle and press on the smooth skin on your thighs, he himself humming and grunting into your pussy as he slurps you up. 

You’re perfect, so perfect in his eyes, yet the angle is still not satisfying to him, constantly searching for a better access to your quivering hole. Suddenly, his arms wrap around your knees and he swiftly lifts your legs further up, almost folding you in half as he sinks his mouth in your wetness again, groaning at how much better he can eat you out now. Properly. 

A loud moan ripples from your throat and you jerk in his hold violently, not expecting him to just manhandle you like this. You’re just there, mind blank and eyes fluttering shut when Jay pushes his tongue into your hole, fucking and stretching you with it as best as he can. He’s being so loud with it, so nasty that you can’t help but surrender yourself to him completely, losing yourself to him over and over again. 

Two of his warm fingers circle your weeping hole before letting them sink inside slowly, gently. With the addiction of his nose brushing over your clit, his tongue never halting its movements and now working in harmony with his fingers, you’re barely responsive. 

You mewl and whine breathlessly, sweat starting to create a thin layer on your worked up body. Jay pulls away to take a breath and admire your blissed out face, long fingers curling up, and he ducks his head to cover your sensitive thighs with marks and bites. 

“Aah, s’ good,” you slur out, arching your back off the bed slightly. 

“Yeah? You like that, baby?” Jay asks, sucking one last hickey on your inner thigh before moving back to your needy cunt. You can only hum in agreement, the noise quickly turning into another string of moans and wails as you feel your approaching high. 

Jay cranes his neck to get to you at the best angle, one that will help you reach your climax the fastest. He didn’t even realize when his now hard cock started rutting against the bed slowly, only focused on you and you only, restraining his own pleasure. 

You open your mouth to warn him of your incoming release but before you can do that, Jay speeds up the movement of his fingers and has you coming within a second, a loud cry of his name on your lips serving as honey for his ears. 

He drags his face away from your glistening pussy to take a look at your face.

You’re so beautiful, so perfect, soft and all his.

“My prettiest,” he murmurs, planting a bunch of kisses against your thighs and stomach before lifting himself on his arms and crawling to get you to face him, laying breathlessly beneath him. 

He lowers himself to kiss you right on the lips, the slick from his face smearing against yours slightly but you’re too far gone to pay it any mind. 

“I love you,” is all you’re able to choke out in a whisper. Jay smiles and brushes his nose against yours, kissing you once, then twice and thrice before letting you fill your lungs again. 

“I love you more.”

And as much as you want to protest at first, you realize that he might be actually right. There’s no doubt of your feelings or devotion to him, you gave him your entire heart a long time ago, entrusted him with all you are and had enough faith in him to never make you regret your decision.

But no one loves like Jay does. His love is pure and raw, coming from the depth of his heart and overshadowing all other feelings you’ve ever harbored to another man. 

That’s how you also know that no matter anything you’ll always end up together, overcome everything. 

His gentle hands grab the bottom of the t-shirt you’re wearing, his actually now that he takes a better look at it, then lifts it up, revealing your perky breasts to him. He plants kisses against them, simultaneously unzipping his pants and kicking them down to the floor. His boxers are discarded next and you help him unbutton his shirt with your shaky fingers. 

“Make me yours,” you say into his lips once you’re done with that, hand pressed against his cheek. 

Your words are enough to send Jay’s patience out the window, and he’s lifting your leg to hook it over his waist before sinking his hard cock inside you, your walls instantly sucking him in to the hilt. He groans at the warmth that engulfs him, squeezing him so tightly he can barely move. 

Your heart pounds in your chest, blood rushing to your cheeks at the intimacy, his eyes boring into you lovingly. Because that’s what he is. Utterly, hopelessly lovesick. 

His chest heaves above yours for a moment as he lets you adjust and relax around him before settling for a slower and deep pace. Your breaths get ragged quickly, listening to the filthy squelching whenever he pulls out of you only to sink in further each time. 

“See, baby? It’s all good now,” he rasps, sweaty hair beginning to cling to his forehead because of the stuffiness in your bedroom. “You don’t need anyone else. Only me. I’ll take care of you.”

“Only you,” you repeat after him, watching his eyes sparkle and eyebrows furrow.

He lets out a chuckle, out of breath. “Good girl.”

His hold on you tightens as he fucks into you, his large hand slipping to the back of your head and pressing your face to his neck. His thrusts grow faster, more erratic and messy, and the only thing you’re able to do at the moment is whine desperately into his skin and wrap your other leg over his hips, thighs clenching his sides even tighter.

You feel better. You feel heavenly. You feel loved.

He bullies his way so deep inside you that you feel as if on the verge of blacking out. It’s so good. You’re pretty sure you’re going to leave a drool stain on your boyfriend’s toned shoulder once you pull away from there as you’re just unable to close your mouth for a second, too fucked out to have any control over it now.

“Can I go a little faster, sweetheart?” Jay asks.

You whine into the junction of his neck. “Mhm.”

And so he does, his touch growing in intensity as well. He lets go of your neck and your head falls back onto the pillows and you finally get to look at his face, expression so soft and tender, and a stark contrast to the way he fucks you. 

Your stomach sets ablaze with every loud clap of his hips against yours, his precum making a mess on your thighs. 

“Fucking hell,” he moans lowly, not being able to get enough of the doe-eyed look you’re giving him. He didn’t know it was possible, but he thinks he loves you even a little more than yesterday. 

The sloppy sound of your wet skin colliding with his ricochets off of your bedroom’s walls and your eyes water again – this reason completely contrasting to the earlier heartbreak. Jay is here to kiss all of your tears away, his warm lips tracing your cheeks and collecting every salty droplet that falls on your skin. 

You throw your head back, nails digging into his shoulder blades. And then he reaches down with the one hand that’s not holding you, pressing his fingers on your swollen clit and rubbing circles on it, making you grow lightheaded again. 

His never ceasing thrusts keep hitting your g-spot, without even giving you a second to breathe. 

“J-Jay,” you whimper, voice wet and small, and he knows exactly what you want to communicate to him. 

You fall apart in his arms as your orgasm hits your sensitive pussy even harder this time, making you squirt with a shallow gasp for air. You feel completely owned by him at the moment. 

Jay’s eyes roll to the back of his skull for a hot minute, his cock aching and twitching as your walls spasm and squeeze him mercilessly. He buries his face in your neck now, nibbling under your ears and panting heavily against your skin.

Jay cums hard, probably harder than he ever has before – all because he knows he’s fucked you so good you can’t stop shaking in his arms. His own thighs begin to quiver a little as he ruts his emptying cock into your warm pussy, filling you up so nicely.

It’s the choked up wail that leaves your throat that spurs him into pushing more of his throbbing length into your sensitive self. His warm cum fills you to the brim, seeping slowly onto your thighs, yet he keeps snapping his hips against you slowly. “That’s it. Take it, baby. Take it all.”

Your lips part and when he pulls away from your neck, he immediately slides his tongue against yours. His kisses are sloppy and hot and wet but that only pushes you even further into the state of bliss, completely losing your mind for the man above you.

Your back is arched, making you press your chest into his forcefully as you jolt and twitch from overstimulation as he pulls out his soft cock out of you carefully. 

Jay’s lips press to your temple warmly with a soothing intention. You try to catch your breath, body sweaty and clammy just like your hair. Yet you look just as pretty as ever to him. His prettiest girl. 

 He collapses onto the bed next to you and lets you cling to him for as long as you want to, holding you tightly to his chest and drowning you in praises and compliments. It’s only when he notices that your eyelids are growing heavy that he gently pulls you away and up from the bed, steadying your wobbly self on the rug beside your bed. 

You look at him in confusion, eyes misty and tired and he can’t help but giggle and kiss you one more time. “We should probably take a shower first,” he flicks your nose when you scrunch it up slightly but then you nod your head.

When you start walking into the direction of the bathroom, goosebumps spiking your skin despite the hot temperature in the room, you turn around and frown when you notice that Jay has stayed behind you.

“You’re not coming, love?” You ask but he shakes his head. 

“You go first, baby. I’ll be right there in a second.” He nods his head to the ruined bedding. “Gotta change the sheets first.”

You flush as you take in the mess you’ve both made. “Right,” you mumble and then disappear behind the door. 

When you’re both showered and back in the bed together, you’re propping yourself on your elbows, trying to reach the switch of the lamp on the bedside table. You don’t get far when Jay’s arm wraps itself across your torso and brings you back down, right into his chest.  

“Stay,” he mumbles, nuzzling his face in your hair.

You giggle quietly but give in and lay comfortably, half on the bed and half on your boyfriend. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Jay hums lowly. “I mean forever. Stay with me forever.”

You look at him, eyes slightly widening despite how tired you are, and his words take your breath away when you realize he’s dead serious. You’re at a loss of words, looking at the man by your side, stunned, yet he only smiles lazily and brings your hand to his lips to press his warm lips against your knuckles.

“Marry me.”

Lacy, oh, Lacy, I just loathe you lately

And I despise my jealous eyes and how hard they fell for you

Yeah, I despise my rotten mind and how much it worships you

taglist: @luvkpopp @yannew @hoonxclsvly @jongseongslvr @beomgyusonlywife @starggukies @koizekomi @ineedsomezzz @starl1ghtsinthedark @enhastolemyheart @seokseokjinkim @parksunghoonsgf @skzenhalove @somekpopshiteu97 @enhypens-hoe @alpha-mommy69 @jwnzlvr @wondipity

permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @dilucsleftshoelace @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @yoongspi @nichoswag @s00buwu @mon2sunjinsuver @goreconsumer @i4kt @heehoonsnemo @seongslutt @criminalyun @kissestojapan

note: i actually really like how it turned out xx

[mortalityplays]

Forgive me if I'm mistaking you for another person, but I remember you speaking at multiple points on the unsustainability of free social media services (I think especially in response to the cohost collapse?), and I'm curious on what your thoughts on bluesky are so far. I'm not an expert on the subject, but from what I've read previously it seemed like they were on track to be financially sustainable, but I don't know if the recent floods of users has thrown those projections off. Sorry if I'm mixing you up with someone else on my timeline, in that case just ignore me.

bluesky will almost certainly follow the same trajectory of monetisation => bloat => enshittification => decline as every other major platform built on venture capital and user hoarding. it's a terrible model that only works in the short term as a mirage for attracting funding and making founders look good for a year or two before they sell.

you can see the same effect in the decline of all the subscription box services that came into vogue just before covid: they feel great to use for as long as the initial injection of venture funding lasts, because the purpose of that funding at that stage is to attract users and impress the next round of funders with how pleasant/intuitive/efficient/ethical/good value the service is. that's the stage where they're handing out freebies and bowling over influencers, and every ingredient in the box is fresh and high quality and locally sourced. wow what a good deal, what a great system!!! why hasn't anyone done this before? the answer is because it's unsustainable by design. they rack up good reviews, sign on a billion new users, attract new funding from a bunch of much more credulous investors, and then gut all of the expensive parts. portions get smaller, ingredients get worse, packaging gets flimsier, prices go up, freebies turn into "5% off your first 9 boxes when you invite 3 friends", and customer service vanishes.

with social media (and platforms like discord) the logic is the same, it's just a little less glaringly obvious to the end user because they're not coming home to leaking packages of rancid chicken on the doorstep. bluesky has an advantage over tiny operations like cohost because it was founded by a billionaire making a point for the sake of his own image. it got a really significant chunk of startup funding, and the owner had existing connections and rep in the space to attract more. That's why it has survived the goldrush period, why it still feels good to use, and why users who have been burned so many times before are finally accepting it as a stable, reliable option. It's still in its venture capital honeymoon phase where the only thing worth spending money on is making the service attractive to users.

What I expect we will see next, with another mass influx of users from twitter and new funding from a rogue's gallery of tech venture sickos led by Blockchain Capital is a strong ramp up into monetising that userbase. They've already been pretty forthright about how they plan to do this, and I think it's a solid roadmap of how Bluesky will bloat and decay over the next few years:

this is a huge lol. don't worry, we're not going to hyperfinancialize the social experience through NFTs. the thing even crypto freaks started feigning amnesia about a year ago. real "our health conscious sodas are 100% arsenic free" messaging here. They know perfectly well that rubes users are suspicious of their typical 5 dimensional tech finance chess games and are patting our hands about last week's bogeymen so nobody worries too hard about whatever 'decentralised developer ecosystem' just happens to be helmed by a bunch of crypto guys. this definitely means something good and based and not a google-like single sign on user data harvesting operation.

This is the same shit that's currently rotting the floorboards of discord. Bluntly, there is no way to run a platform on this scale without gating functionality behind paid services. Discord has been squeezing free-tier file uploads and call quality etc. down steadily and cranking up subscription costs over the last year or two, throwing in chaff like animated avatar frames to try and justify the user cost. They're also doing the same misdirection thing again here, pointing to Thing We All Hate to deflect from thing we might not like very much when they do it. Booo elon booo we all hate elon!!! wait how do we feel about subscription models again,

watch out for this to kill porn on bsky like it has killed porn on every other social platform 👍 boooo we hate elon boooo stupid idiot and his 'everything app' booooo wait why do you need my tax information, what's that about mastercard,

Look, we are all aware social media is a money pit. Let's not forget dorsey was looking to sell twitter in the first place, long before elon's very public plunge into total online derangement. Subscription services are not going to plug the hole, so we are gradually going to see more and more spaghetti thrown at the wall while early funders shuffle cards and do their pyramid scheme bit bringing in stupider and stupider investments. this is the window in which bluesky will be temporarily worth using for us, for the idiot public, the poorly rendered crowd jpegs in the background of their venture capital MOBA. it's in their interests to slow and pad the decline as much as possible, because that is how they get maximally paid.

Given the scale of the money involved, and dorsey's weird ego investment, I think bluesky will probably manage a controlled drift for a good few years before it gets really bloated and painful. and by then we will all be so used to the *checks notes* decentralised developer ecosystem that we'll just be posting through it, watching another generation of columnists call another collapsing platform 'their beloved hellsite' and passing around that meme about not getting out of our chairs no sir until idk we all get on a fediverse neurolink alternative to stick it to the elongated muskrat and our brains pop peacefully in our sleep. which I guess is the closest thing to viability any social media platform can achieve.

anyway diogenes the cynic is also on bluesky

[grison-in-space]

you know what else fucks me up about the US election? one of the things that has left me reeling in bewilderment and grief this month?

I'm a scientist, y'all.

That means that I am, like most American research scientists, a federal contractor. (Possibly employee. It's confusing, and it fucks with my taxes being a postdoctoral researcher.) I get paid because someone, in the long run ideally me, makes a really, really detailed pitch to one of several federal grant agencies that the nation would really be missing out if I couldn't follow up on these thoughts and find concrete evidence about whether or not I'm right.

Currently, my personal salary is dependent on a whole department of scientists convincing one of the largest and most powerful granting agencies that they have a program that is really good at training scientists that can think deeply about the priorities of the agency. Those priorities are defined by the guy who runs the agency, and he gets to hire whatever qualified people he wants. That guy? The Presidential Administration picks that one. That's how federal agencies get staffed: the President's administration nominates them.

All of the heads of these agencies are personally nominated by the president and their administration. They are people of enormous power whose job is to administer million-dollar grants to the scientists competing urgently for limited funds. A million dollars often doesn't go farther than a couple of years when it's intended to pay for absolutely everything to do with a particular pitch, including salaries of your trainees, all materials, travel expenses, promoting the work among other researchers, all of it—so most smart American researchers are working fervently on grants all the time.

The next director of the NIH will be a Trump appointee, if he notices and thinks to appoint one. NSF, too; that's the group that funds your ecology and your astroscience and your experimental mathematics and physics and chemistry, the stuff that doesn't have industry funding and industry priorities. USDA. DOE, that's who does a lot of the climate change mitigation and renewable energy source research, they'll just be lucky if they can do anything again because Trump nigh gutted them last time.

Right now, I am working on the very tail end of a grant's funding and I am scurrying to make sure I stay employed. So I'm thinking very closely about federal agency priorities, okay? And I'm thinking that the funding climate for science is going to get a lot fucking leaner. I'm seeing what the American people think of scientists, and about whether my job is worth doing. It's been a lean twelve years in this gig, okay? Every time the federal government gets fucked up, that impacts my job, it means that I have to hustle even harder to get grants in that let me support myself—and, if I have any trainees, their budding careers as well!—to patch over the lean times as much as we can.

So I've been reeling this week thinking about how funding agency priorities are going to change. I work on sex differences in motivation, so let me tell you, the politics reading this one for my next pitch are going to be fun. I'm working on a submission for an explicitly DEI-oriented five year grant with a cycle ending in February, so that's going to be an exercise in hoping that the agency employees at the middle levels (the ones that know how to get things done which can't be replaced immediately with yes men) can buffer the decisions of those big bosses long enough to let that program continue to exist a little while longer.

Ah, Christ, he promised Health & Human Services (which houses the NIH) to RFK, didn't he? We'll see how that pans out.

I keep seeing people calling for more governmental shutdowns on the left now, and it makes me want to scream. The government being gridlocked means the funding that researchers like me need doesn't come, okay? When the DOE can't say fucking "climate change," when the USDA hemorrhages its workers when the agency is dragged halfway across the country, when I watch a major Texan House rep stake his career on trying to destroy the NSF, I think: this is what you people think of us. I think: how little scientists are valued as public workers. Why am I working this hard again?

This is why I described voting as harm reduction. Even if two candidates are "the same" on one thing you care about, they probably aren't the same level of bad on everything. Your task is to figure out the best person to do the job. It's not about a fucking tribalist horse race. A vote is your opinion on a job interview, you fucks. We have to work with this person.

Anyway, I'm probably going to go back to shaking quietly in despair for a little longer and then pick myself up and hit the grind again. If I'm fast, I might still get the grant in this miserable climate if I run, and I might get to actually keep on what I'm trying to do, which is bring research on sex differences, neurodivergence and energy balance as informed by non-binary gender perspectives and disability theory to neuroscience.

Fuck.

[720am]

M A S T E R L I S T

for losing as much as possible in a short amount of time (cuz we are all desperate), from me - a biotechnologist, who relapsed (the demons never leave)

the tips i am about to share with all my girliepops are all based on science and work; if you have any other tips, feel free to share in the comments, so we can have all the tips in one place!

• eat your meals from smaller sized plates, to trick your brain you are eating more

• cut up your food into small pieces

• chew every bite at least 10-15 times, until it is a purée consistency; this way you will be eating slower and give your brain more time to realise you are full

• sip water with a lemon slice between your bites

• focus on eating vegetables and protein, limit carbs

• drink a lot of water, and I mean a lot

• add lemon slices to your water to make it have some flavour; also the lemon juice in water before your meals will help reduce the glucose spike => less insulin released from liver => less absorbed glucose from carbs/sugars/starches => less fat on your body

• move for 10 mins right after eating - walk, do calf raises, some light movement so all the glucose can be used before getting stored as fat on your body

• drink tea - green tea, detox tea, whatever tea, without a sweetener

• do not drink diet sodas/colas - or any kind of liquid that is not water/tea - these are useless calories, why would you do that to yourselves?! even if it says 0 cals - this s#it is so bad for you, and the carbonation makes you feel bloated like a god damn whale! ditch the diet sodas girliepops

• implement some kind of movement every day - walking, pilates, yoga, dance workouts, resistance bands workouts or stretching

• do not weigh yourself everyday - due to hormones our weigh fluctuates every day and this will just make you feel bad if you lose and gain 1-2 legs everyday depending on your menstrual cycle, water weight and so on.. weigh yourself every 2 weeks.

• do not drink fruit juice - this is such a scam; hear me out: how many oranges does it take to make 1 glass of orange juice? around 3. can you eat three whole oranges in one sitting? i bet no. then why would you drink 3 oranges? when you make fruit juice, all the fibre and the pulp is removed, leaving you with just the juice with all the sugar in it (in the form of glucose and fructose) so you are basically drinking pure sugar, which turns into fat… just eat your damned fruit, instead of drinking a bunch of empty calories

• take red cranberry supplements - they are usually taken for UTIs, but the red cranberry has diuretic effect, and will make you pee your water weight out; please do not take more than 2 pills and remember to drink plenty of water so you don’t damage your kidneys!!!!

• take probiotics - this will ensure your gut health stays good while restricting foods, so you don’t end up constipated and bloated

• i personally do not eat dairy products (i am lactose intolerant) - they are full of hormones from the cows, give you acne and inflammation, and the protein in it is not worth it considering the amount of fat these products have; skip the dairy if you can

• if you drink a lot of coffee, remember to drink plenty of water! coffee has a diuretic effect and if you are not drinking more water, it will make you retain whatever water is in your body, leading to water weight gain

• if you end up binging, do so mindfully - do not give in to all the food, just have a piece of chocolate, not the whole chocolate bar; have a piece of cake, not the whole cake; then get back on track and try to exercise as much as possible to burn the excess calories

• i think this is obvious but let me say it just in case - in order to lose weight, you have to be on a calorie deficit - meaning you burn/use more calories than you consume; but!! here is the trick - you have to maintain low calorie diet, do not ⭐️ve for more than 2 days, as this will f#ck up your metabolism - your body goes into fight or flight response, meaning everything you eat after f4sting will remain on your body as a reserve of food, in case you end up ⭐️ving again; so have your veggies and protein (chicken breasts, white fish)

• keep yourself busy so you don’t think about f0od - study, work, read books, journal, whatever it is, your day has to be full of activities do you can forget to e4t

• reject offered food - say you already ate / yr not hungry / you are allergic to some ingredient / you have a bad migraine and this will make it worse / or take the food and say you will have it later and just give it to someone else (pls don’t throw in trash, do not waste food)

• when eating with family / boyfriend - place food in a smaller plate, cut up food into very small pieces and eat very slowly and chew every bite for a long time, sip water between every few bites, then say you are full and cannot eat anymore / that you ate a bit earlier and yr full

• when eating, eat your veggies first, then your protein and eat the smallest amount of carbs - always leave leftover carbs in your plate

• do not eat any snacks - no cereal bars, no cereal, no chips, no crisps, no crackers, no salty sticks, just do not eat snacks!

• if you feel like eating - drink water first, then have veggies (cucumbers, carrots, tomatoes, radishes, etc) or fruit (apples, citrus, any kind of berries)

• if you are having breakfast - always eat a savoury breakfast - eggs, avocado, veggies etc; never eat a sweet breakfast - cereal, croissants, pancakes, etc, this will spike up your glucose levels and all that sugar will turn into fat; a sweet breakfast will make you feel tired and exhausted all day, leading you to eat more

• wear a waist trainer - do so for no more than 8hrs a day; this will also help you have smaller portions of food, as it won’t allow your stomach to expand

• do not purge - this is very bad for your teeth and overall health; the stomach acid is very strong and every time you purge, your teeth are getting damaged; just don’t overeat in the first place and have self control!

this is all i have for right now; if i think of anything else, i will add later / make another post; if you have anything to add to this list - go ahead and do so in the comments below

remember, stay safe xx

[sunny-mercya]

Ours not Yours.

Poly!Billy Loomis & Stu Macher x Male Reader

Fandom -> Scream 1996

Requested by -> @jaythes1mp

Masterlist

Billys rage of jealousy was at a boiling point and ready to burst into anger. Throwing some fists or perhaps even gutting someone sounds more than pleasing appealing to Billy right now.

Slamming his locker shut, Billy turned his head to the side, taking a narrowing glance at the group a few meters ahead of him.

Tyler Gillery, one of the school main jocks, was the sole reason of Billys displeasuring anger. The teen was next to you, couldn't keep his hands off—one was always placed on your hip, as if you belong to him—from you. How Tyler could bring a laugh out of you, with his stupidity of jokes, how he managed to make you smile—the genuinely one with radiating happiness and love—and overall keep you from them, your actual boyfriends.

Billy scoffed, shoulders his bag and walked towards them. Bumping hard into Tylers shoulder, ignoring Sidney and Tatums confused faces and whatever they are about to say. Billy wasn't in the mood for their girlish complaints. He thought about pulling you along and away from them, but Tyler had a good grip on you and by god—that smug arrogant smile Tyler gave him, was making Billy even more furious.

«Damn, whats up with Billy? He looked mad.»

«hah, he's just being a silly moody mopey» joked Tyler, laughing boastfully and well too loud.

You elbowed Tyler in the rips, hard enough to have his grip loosen on you. Facing him, you gave him a frown. Tyler, in a mock surrender, holds his hands up, taking just a few steps of distance from you.

«chill, was just a joke, pretty boy.»

Your frown deepens, turning more into a scowl. Taking your bag into your hands, you gave a short goodbye to Sidney and Tatum.

«Hey hey, we're still going to do some studying later?»

«Maybe. If you're not being a silly asshole moody mopey.» your reply was flavoured with a disdain—biting bitter curtly—in your tone.

You liked Tyler. You too were acquaintances, counting him to a friend level, in and outside from school. He's a good guy by heart, but sometimes he can be a unnecessary mean little shit.

~~~

Stu grinned. Amused by Billy's little fit of jealousy and upcoming bloodlust towards Tyler. Stu gets it, really, seeing you constantly with Tyler—all friendly and almost lovely dovely—gives him too a rumbling of jealousy, but his and Billys jealousy were two different things.

Stu's jealousy was subtle, more of a teasing and hovering near you. Holding your hand for a week and showering you with compliments and jokes.

Whilst Billy's jealousy was a merciless possessiveness. Brooding glares, keeping you at hips bay, always near him and at the end of the day, marking your body with visible love bites and making your body limp in his hold.

«Ya know, rumours has it, that the Nurse office is at this time unoccupied and how about we give [Name] some health check up?» Stu's grin got wider, licking over his lips, leaning against some lockers.

«I'm this fucking close to gut Tyler out. The asshole had the actually audacity to have his filthy jock hands on [Name]'s hips.»

Stu only hummed in agreement, that he was listening to his boyfriend angry ranting. Being on a lookout for you, to catch you in his arms and "kidnapping" you into the nurse office. Doing it in school is a thrilling thought of excitement.

~~~

Billy and Stu hadn't meant to go this far. Didn't mean to cover your skin with so many love bites—bruising your skin into a purplish bloody hue, leaving marks, visible, of teeths all around every inch of your body—decorating your skin with it as if you were a trophy.

They both felt almost guilty about it, once they saw how dazed—one the verge of passing out—and shakily you are. Almost though.

Billy and Stu laid with you on the medical-bay bed, cramped together and with you in the middle. Prepping you face with kisses and showering you with praises till you dozed off into a short nap.

It was entirely your fault, that they had to go such length. This could have been avoided, if you didn't have acted so naughty.

For 2 whole weeks you have ditched and kinda avoided them, to hang out with Tyler—doing school projects or something like this. Leaving your boyfriends for themselves and it was getting on their nerves.

You were theirs, their precious little darling. You are Billy and Stu's priced possession. They will kill for you, if it means to protect you.

If they could, they would have collard you up, showing everyone who you belong to—even though they all know by now, that you're the boyfriend of Billy and Stu. Though since they couldn't do that, Billy and Stu have settled for a far better idea—giving love bites, the ones which would fade after weeks.

~~~

Exhausted with sleep, you limped through the empty school corridors. Billy and Stu walking on each side next to you, one holding your hand and the other your bag.

A pleased smile full of smugness and overconfidence on their lips. You rolled your eyes, muttering something about being impatiently needy under your breath. Honestly, they could have waited till you were at home, but then again, your boyfriends liked to be experimental (risky).

«Boys, once we're home you're gonna get me some Mcdonalds and KFC,»

«'course babe, everything you want my prince!»

«Yo, [Name]!» Tyler called out for you, jogging towards you, once he saw you stepping outside the school. He ignored the glaring stares of Billy and Stu, thinking about challenging them—too see who could win you over more, even though Tyler knows that you're already in a relationship with the two—but he always liked a good match or gambling.

Tyler stared at your neck, gulping his spit when he saw the amount of hickeys on your neck. Tired and disheveled you looked and Tyler wonders what you three has done and somehow he knew what you did, but didn't want to imagine it.

Because Tyler knew all too well that you belonged to only Billy and Stu. They have made that more than once perfectly clear.

«Are you....uh still up for some studying?»

«No, sorry, maybe tomorrow perhaps. I'm about to fall asleep any second soon,» you shook your head, mumbling out another apology to him as your eyes threatened to close themselves again. Staying awake was hard and the more you walked around the more exhausted you gotten.

«You heard [Name], maybe tomorrow Tyler. Now, if you so kindly would piss off now»

Tyler nodded, watching how Billy put an arm around your middle, pulling you close to him and giving Tyler—like he has done before—a smug grin.

There might be no killing tonight or in the next few weeks, but that doesn't mean Billy and Stu wouldn't give Tyler a good fucking scare anyways.

[suguru-getos]

fractures // geto suguru x f!reader // chapter 5

masterlist // summary: the reader is depressed as fuck, going through it yall 😔 suguru finally decides to let her go because he could only take in so much without causing irreparable damage to his own mindset about monkeys. // warnings: angst, comfort (yeah geto sama became suguru for a moment), mentions of fucked up mental health.

hurts… hurts when you didn’t go to the invite suguru had for you, to walk with him in the gardens. its embarrassing whatever your condition is right now. forced to sit amongst everyone who loathes you & hates you for lunch. four days… four days are left now. last night had been bearable, you didn’t accept geto’s offer to join him in the gardens for a walk, and didn’t sleep out of the anxiety of him hurting you. hurts… his grip on your psyche hurts.

it seems detrimental to engage in a conversation amongst a group of people who clearly think they’re better than you. hate you just because you’re weak perhaps. before you realize, you’ve ended up gazing and glancing at the plate. tears flowing from your eyes and a weak sniffle escaping you.

mimiko & nanako glanced at the wounded deer they all have kept in their den. you. “she’s crying.” nanako pouts, you look so beautiful to her she wishes she could just be your friend honestly. though, she doesn’t have the guts to confront suguru about it. “sickening…” manami scoffs, looking at you. “stop crying and stop making the lunch unbearable, i can barely stand your monkey stench.”

monkey stench…

you wonder what that even means. suguru, is awfully quiet. he’s just observing you as you desperately try to wipe of your tears. “be grateful you’re given food at all. waste of space and fucking breaths.” manami snarls again, “or should i beat the shit out of you again just like when i did when you tried to slither out like a pest?”

so much hatred… these people held so much hatred it was eating you apart. scatching you, hollowing you to the very core. you don’t want to be hurt anymore. or maybe they better do a good job at it and hurt you enough so your heart stops.

“that’s fine,” suguru hums, “just focus on the lunch manami.” his words sound like an order. something no one can stand against. it was weird, how it somehow helped you feel the slightest of a shield against their sharp jaws.

you could barely finish the lunch, the food’s taste wasn’t the issue exactly. it was the environment. gently leaning the plate away with more than one-third of the food finished, you get up to leave. no one says anything to you. weird… these people feel weird.

another day passes, and suguru’s affect on you has lessened beyond imaginations. he just lets you be. you wonder why is there a change of heart like this. does he plan to kill you directly? why hasn’t he just hurt you like he usually does? neither have his lackeys. it’s eerie, how you sleep on the bed today, just like you did yesterday night & stare at a wall. the dark circles in your eyes have been daunting. you look like a sack of flesh forced to be alive. it’s unbearable. you wish it would stop. you wish your brain would stop it…

desperate- you gasp and get up and off the bed instantly. hands clutching at your scalp and tugging at your hair with a whimper as you scream cry. everything that’s happened to you so far reminds you of the hell you’re forced in. how geto suguru makes you feel, how you immediately wish this was just the biggest nightmare you’ve ever lived.

suguru… can’t sleep either. it’s weird. his mind is just not working how it should. that’s always been the problem with him. he’s always been someone who’s unfit to be a sorcerer. he cares so much. that’s why he couldn’t stand his comrades & his own friends dying because of filthy monkeys who create those very curses. then why is his heart being torn apart brutally at the sounds of you crying. why is he taking a walk right ‘outside’ your door. this makes no sense. why is he being partial to you? to check his resolve, he’s killed seven monkeys today. all those who should have been useful but weren’t. then there’s you, tearing him apart just with the sound of your sniffles. is it because you’re beautiful? no- that’s not it. it’s just because he doesn’t know where to place you in his self righteous scale of morals.

you need a breath of fresh air, and when you lurch forward to your bedroom door and open it, you’re left aghast when you see geto sama standing in front. you lean back a few steps. blinking rapidly to see him clearly with the foggy vision you hold due to your tears. “i- i- wasn’t - i wasn’t trying to run.” you babble, observing him. watching his feet, his face. “please believe me i wasn’t trying to run- i was just trying to have some fresh air.” you explained yourself, sobbing out at the bone chilling fear.

“please please please — “ you fall into your knees at his silence, face covered with both hands as you break down. “please don’t hurt m-“

suguru just looks at you, eyes softening, his own eyes glazed at your torment. his little monkey pet. “i believe you.” he hums, walking towards you and crouching. he doesn’t need to necessarily touch you. but he does anyway. holding the back of your head and forcing you to lean against his chest. soft pats on your head as you cry out. he is silent. saying anything seems insolent. he can’t really do anything but hope you quiet down with that. why is he even doing this… he doesn’t have time to think through it. it’s impossible.

no… you’re changing him. he can’t have you do that. you can’t change him. that’s impossible. he has a goal to meet. he has to erradicate all the monkeys in this world to make sure sorcerers can live freely. he can’t be sympathetic for a fucking monkey—

“i’ll let you go tomorrow.” he hums, and your eyes widened, what is he even saying? “your parents will give the money within three says, i can’t stand you crying out everyday like a bad omen in my own house.” he hums, watching your facial expressions change to one of pure shock. “you understand? now don’t make me change my decision by crying anymore.”

you desperately nodded, wiping your tears over and over and over like a traumatized child. it is heart breaking really… maybe when he’s without you, and away from you, he would get back the losing and faint sight of his goal.

the next morning, you wake up, groggy as ever. whatever happened last night seems like a fever dream. you don’t even have the energy to think it was reality. maybe geto was tired of you crying and screaming & wanted to shut you up temporarily. yeah, that’s what it seems like at the end of the day. you drag yourself to the bathroom, and take a shower. thoughts jumbled up in the brimming brain fog. you’re tired, your mind & body are unable to keep up with the rapid anxiety you have burning within you.

“good morning.” you blink when you hear geto’s voice while combing through your hair. “morning.” you respond, gazing at him through the mirror. “let’s go.” he raises a brow, watching you, scanning you. maybe you will smile…

maybe… he will see you smile for the first time ever. he’s spend a few hours yesterday night trying to imagine how pretty you would look when you’re smiling brightly. when your lips curl up… do you smile with your eyes? would they squint up? how would you look? he can’t wait but want to see you blossom like that. pathetic really.

“yeah.” there is no response apart from that. you’re dreading this. you don’t know if you would be able to survive when you’re out of here. the fear that’s been instilled inside you wouldn’t just go away like that. as heartbreaking as it is, your body has given up for now.

and that’s exactly what happens. everything passes in a haze. the echoes of multiple footsteps as you walk to the estate gate & sit in the car, eyes fixated at your nails and scratching them up throughout. you don’t register anything until you actually reach home. a faint beep sound is the only thing you hear and the faintest echoes of your parents crying and hugging you. your friends visiting you in the coming next few days and weeks. everything is nothing but a faint echo. you feel like you’re drifting apart, losing a sense of reality. you don’t remember how long it has been since you’ve been back. or if your parents gave suguru the money anyway, or if you are still dreaming about this whole thing and stuck in the geto estate. maybe you died when he carved the word “monkey” in your arm and these are the last bits of delusional memories your brain has in store for you before finally pulling you into slumber….

depressed, numb, and done for. you are done for.

[khristie16]

Blindfolded Desires

about: playing truth or dare on a college party with the least favourite person in the entire universe can lead to many things. warnings: alcohol, games, kissing, charles is mean, reader hates his guts Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

You were sitting comfortably on a red sofa in one of those rooms filled with smoke which was very common for the college background you find yourself in for the past year. You started your degree last year and you still somehow didn’t get use to the so called college lifestyle. But so be it, now you’re sitting there with your classmates on a typical Tuesday night, because all of you don’t seem to care about your studies, just you, but secretly, because everything out there spreads fast as a lighting.

You have to be grateful to that to one of your female friends who is not so much a friend anymore who just cannot shut up about anything. And she thought telling everyone you’ve slept only with virgins had to be something incredible and fun to talk about. Like no shame, it was never intentional in the first place. But what was definitely intentional were those words your least favourite person had to brag about.

He called you a mama shelter. Anytime he saw you somewhere he chuckled at your persona and you didn’t even have to hear him! Not a sound and you knew what was going on in his head. You hated his guts before but thanks to your friend, she made him a bigger enemy than he was before.

So there you were, on a stupid party with stupid people but your best friend Nicole. You’ve known her the whole life since you were little kids and you two were so similar finding the same interests in life and pursuing the same study major was not a surprise to anyone. You were at this party just because of her and all of those people around were friends of her boyfriend Jack. Jack himself was a nice guy but his friends were a group of douche bags. Including the guy, Charles. The mama shelter guy. You have to say you really must love your bestie friend when you sacrifice your mental health for her. She would feel bad to know only Jack here but no one else.

She was the same private person as you were. But Natalie sitting across the room was the person who loved gossips and in the begging of your studies here you thought she will be a good friend, and you used to overshare a lot, that’s why everyone know about your damn sexual life.

You reseated on the couch to get more comfortable as the game called truth or dare started. Seriously, no more dumb game you could play but hey, this is college and don’t forget there are douche bags around you who initially came up with this idea.

As you snorted out a little bit more than intended you catch a glimpse of stare from Charles. He is devilishly smiling at you and you just furrow your eyebrows at him being disgusted by even looking at him. As you look away, you see other guy taking the bottle and spinning it around. You’ve heard giggles of Natalie as she was all so thrilled about this game. You swear to god if you only knew what a gossip girl she was you’ve never declared even your name in front of her. Voluntarily.

The bottle spin to Charles. You were starting to totally zoom out, absolutely unbothered by what he will choose and how it will continue. But someone above you had different plans about your evening apparently since the guy called your name.

“Hey you scared?” You annoyingly looked at the guy with a look of not getting whatever he was implying. He laughed out loud and looked back at Charles.

“Truth or Dare?”

“Dare.” The guy looked at you again and stared straight to your eyes.

“Let YN unbutton your shirt only with teeth.”

You widened your eyes at him and if you had some food in your mouth, it’d definitely got stuck in your throat. “WHAT!?”

“Oh come on, it’s not like no one there knows about your skills.” The laugher of Natalie filled the room once again and you suddenly knew.

That b…… you should have never talked to her! Oh my god, what else you told her? You should keep the recorder on from now anytime you are near her so you can track about everything you said in front of her.

“Unless you were lying and it’s not true.” You gazed back on the guy and a little smile spread across your face.

“I don’t have to prove anything, plus it’s not my dare. It’s Charles’s.” You arrogantly laid back on the sofa with a wicked smile and facing everyone with a smirk on your face.

“You’re right, but unless you want me to do whatever it takes to get you there because I have to accomplish the dare, we’re gonna be here for a long long time. It’s your choice, mama shelter.”

You pointed your eyes at him and was in disbelief of what he was saying. It’s totally clear all of this it’s just to make fun of you. You hated it. You did. But to chicken out was something you hated more. You were a competitor, you always wanted to win. And this game was hard to win with the actual circumstances. But you don’t back off. And entertaining the idea of fighting with Charles for god’s know for how long, you decided to cooperate.

You used your hands to help you getting up from the couch and taking slow steps towards Charles that was sitting in one of the chair on the opposite side of where you were sitting. He was smirking, having this arrogant look on his face. But you played it cool. Even though you were burning fire inside. You’ve had an experience with this, a true one, you were good at unbuttoning anything with your teeth only. And you are smiling already for showing them how it’s done.

You got on your knees and laid your hands on his knees that were wide open for you. Charles liked the view, a little too much for his own sake but he didn’t know yet by this second. You on the upper hand got to the business without any distraction. You didn’t even bother looking at him, for you it was the shirt that was having your full attention, not him. And he was getting slightly irritated by the fact you didn’t even give him a glance.

In no time you were done with your hands still on his knees. As he got bare in front of everyone with every button opened, you put all of your weight on his knees and got up.

“You know, you’re old enough to let mama help you with buttons.” You span on your heel and walked to your place.

“Well I’ve heard you like helping out small boys.” You were losing it. You wanted to turn around and bong his head to the wall next to him. You were getting so sick of him and Nicole knew it. She started worrying about you as you saw it in her eyes. You sat down and looked annoyed more than ever.

“Well that was interesting to look at.” You started zooming out again to get out of this place and get somewhere else with your thoughts. You’ve heard someone calling you from afar until Nicole shook your shoulder with a worrying voice. “YN?”

You looked into her eyes and asked her confused what’s going on. “You’re next.”

You were supposed to pick truth or dare but neither of this was in your liking. But you knew you have to play, so you decided to change it a little bit.

“I will do dare if I will choose the dare.” The other guy laughed at you and looked serious afterward if you are actually joking or not. You weren’t joking.

“You cannot do it. You will choose something dumb.” You raised your eyebrows at Natalie and imagined how you smash her head with a frying pan.

“Oh I believe it’s not dumb. I will blindfold myself and I have to guess who kissed me.”

There was a silence in the room for some time but purely because everyone was taken away by your idea. You always appeared you will hurt anyone just by looking at you, none has to be said about if someone would actually try to talk to you. And now you were making a suggestion about kissing. It didn’t take that long when guys started to make all of those cringe sounds of approval and thrill. You rolled your eyes at this and took your jumper next to you to blindfold yourself. Either this or anything else that would be picked by these idiots. You had to remind yourself once again before fully committing to that.

As the darkness displayed, you waited for anyone to come and kiss you. The first person was okay. Nothing amazing. The second one was the worst kiss you’ve ever head. It was like kissing a fish. The third one was rather absent, you didn’t even feel if he was doing something. The fourth one was rather different. It was intimate and sweet. But the last one, that was intense. It was hard, it was passionate but oh so laid back. You wish you could come closer and hold the person’s neck to prolong the kiss. You even think you made a silent moan to the person’s mouth. But before you could get your hopes up, it was done and you were ready to take off the blindfold.

You blinked fast with your eyes to adapt to the lights in the room and as you were scanning the room, you couldn’t find any difference in people’s posture. You so hoped you will catch it and it will help you to tell who was who, but it’s like everybody predicted your move and everything seemed the same.

You stopped looking around and started guessing. It showed up that you didn’t get anyone right. You weren’t surprised but you really wanted to know who was the last one. As you sat back down on your place, Nicole looked at you apologetically. You looked at her back with the evidence of question for her and she just smiled shyly. As if she was trying to tell you someone stole your favourite book and it cannot ever be found again.

You decided to let it go for now because clearly she wasn’t planning to talk about it in front of everyone. You just hear Natalie giggle and you found out she was looking at you in the same moment, you wondering what’s going on again. You pushed yourself off the couch and went to the back of the room to get a refill.

As you were thinking about how Nicole could pay you back big this time with this disastrous evening, you felt a warm presence next by your side.

“Enjoying yourself?” It was Charles. Minding his business refilling his own cup.

“Yeah. Sure.” You responded dryly. This was the last straw you could take, dealing with him even more as if the previous thing wasn’t enough. Someone really hate you up there. “Didn’t seem like that to me.” He turned his body to you and looked at you with deadly stare. You searched for an answer in his eyes but couldn’t find any. He made a step toward you so he could lower his lips to the side of your left ear.

“By the way, being this desperate for a kiss is not sexy.” The vision in front of you started blurring and you felt the blood getting to your ears. All you’ve heard was a quiet chuckle in your ear and footsteps disappearing from your space.

[transmutationisms]

serious question but do you personally believe there is a way to approach psychiatry in a way that uplifts and upholds patient autonomy and wellness or is the entire trade essentially fucked haha. Btw this is an ask coming from a 3rd year med student—with a background of severe mental illness—who is considering a residency in psychiatry after receiving life-saving care in high school pertaining to said conditions. (I have peers who have been involuntarily hospitalized and treated horribly in psych wards, with approaches i patently disagree with, but was lucky not to experience. I don’t like modern american medicine’s approach to mental illness; “throw pills” at it to “make it go away” ie. a problem of overprescribing, inadequate and non-holistic approach to mental health, and i feel a lot of that can be attributed to the capitalistic framework. I also def agree with you that so much of what can be considered normal human responses to traumatic events/normal human suffering can be unnecessarily pathologized—a great example being the whole “chemical imbalances in the brain is the ONLY reason why im like this” argument that ive unfortunately fallen hard for when i was younger and am still currently dismantling within myself…and like dont even get me started on this field’s history of demonizing POC, women, LGBT, etc). Like i deeply love my psych rotations so far, and i utterly feel in my gut that this is the manner in which i would like to help people—a lot of whom are just like me—but im wondering if there is a way to reconcile these aspects in a way that one can feel morally okay participating within such an imperfect system, in ur opinion… ngghhhhhh i just want to be a good doctor to my patients…

(ps i love all ur writing and analysis on succession!! big fan mwah <333)

i don't mean to sound unduly pissy at you, specifically, but i do have to say: every single time i've talked about antipsych or broader criticism of medicine on this website, i immediately get a wave of responses like this, from doctors/nurses/psychs/students of the above, asking me to, like, reassure them that they're not doing something immoral or un-communist or whatever by having or pursuing these jobs. and it's honestly frustrating. why is it that these conversations get re-framed around this particular line of inquiry and medical ego-soothing? why is it that when i say "the medical encounter is not structured to protect patient autonomy or well-being," so many people hear something more along the lines of "doctors are mean and i wish they were nicer"? why is it that it's impossible to discuss the philosophical and structural violence of academic and clinical medicine without it becoming a referendum on the individual morality of doctors?

i'm choosing to read you in good faith because i think it's possible to re-re-frame this line of questioning to demonstrate to you the sorts of critiques and inquiries i find more interesting and more conducive to patient autonomy and liberation. so, let me pick apart a few lines of this ask.

"is the entire trade essentially fucked?"

if you're thinking of trying to 'reform' the project of medical psychology within existing infrastructures and institutions, then yeah, it's fucked. if you're still assuming that affective distress can only be 'treated' within this medical apparatus (despite, again, no psychiatric dx satisfying any pathologist's understanding of a 'disease' ie an aberration from 'normal' physiological functioning) then you're not challenging the things that actually make psychiatry violent. you're simply fantasising about making the violence nicer.

"I don’t like modern american medicine’s approach to mental illness; “throw pills” at it to “make it go away” ie. a problem of overprescribing, inadequate and non-holistic approach to mental health, and i feel a lot of that can be attributed to the capitalistic framework."

i hate when i talk about psychotropic drugs being marketed to patients using lies like the chemical imbalance myth, and then pushed on patients—including through outright force—by psychiatrists, and the discussion gets re-framed as one about 'overprescribing'. my problem is not with people taking drugs. i am, in fact, so pro-drugs that i think even the ones administered in a clinical setting sometimes have value. my issue is with, again, the provision of misleading or outright false information, the use of force and coercion to put patients on such drugs in order to force social conformity and employability, and the general model of medicine and medical psychology that assumes patients ought to be passive recipients of medical enlightenment rather than active participants in their own treatment who are given the agency to decide when and how to engage with any form of curative or meliorative intervention.

'holistic' medicine and psychiatry do not solve this problem! they are not a paradigm shift because they continue to locate expertise and epistemological authority with the credentialed physician, and to position patients as too sick, stupid, or helpless to do anything but receive and comply with the medical interventions. there are certainly psychotropic drugs that are demonstrably more harmful than others (antipsychotics, for example), and some that are demonstrably prescribed to patients who do not benefit from them and are even harmed by them. conversely, there are certainly forms of intervention besides pharmaceuticals that people may find helpful. but my general critique here is aimed less at haggling over specific methods of intervention, and more at the ideological and philosophical tenets of medicine that cause any interventions to be imposed by force or coercion on patients, then framed as being 'for their own good'. were suffering people given the information and autonomy to actually choose whether and how to engage in any kind of intervention, some might still choose drugs! my position here is not one of moralising drugs, but making the act of taking them one that is freely chosen and available as an option without relying on physician determination of a patient's interests over their own assessment of their needs and wants.

"so much of what can be considered normal human responses to traumatic events/normal human suffering can be unnecessarily pathologized"

true, but don't misunderstand me as saying that drugs or any other form of intervention should be forcibly withheld from those who do want them and are made fully aware of what risks and harms seeking them could entail. again, this would still be an authoritarian model; my critique is aimed at increasing patient autonomy, not at creating equally authoritarian and empowered doctors who just have slightly different treatment philosophies.

"dont even get me started on this field’s history of demonizing POC, women, LGBT, etc"

ok, framing this as "demonisation" tells me that you're not understanding that, again, this is a systemic and structural critique. it is certainly true that a great many doctors currently are, and have historically have been, outright racist, trans/misogynist, ableist, and so on. framing this as a problem of a well-intentioned discipline being corrupted by some assholes is getting it backwards. medicine attracts prejudiced people, not to mention strengthens and promotes these prejudices in its entire training and practice infrastructures, because of its underlying philosophical orientation toward enforcing 'normality' as defined by 18th-century statistics and 19th-century human sciences that explicitly place white, cis, able-bodied european men as the normal ideal that everyone else is inferior to or failing to live up to. doctors who really nicely tell you that you're too fat are still using bmi charts that come from the statistical anthropometry of adolphe quételet and the flawed actuarial calculations of metlife insurance. doctors who really nicely deny you access to transition surgery are still operating under a paradigm that gives the practitioner authority over expressions and embodiments of gender. the issue isn't 'demonisation', it's that medicine and psychiatry explicitly attempt to render judgments about who and what is 'normal' and therefore socially 'healthy', and enforce those standards on patients. this is not a promotion of patient well-being, but of social conformity.

"i deeply love my psych rotations so far, and i utterly feel in my gut that this is the manner in which i would like to help people"

let me ask you a few questions. you say that you like your psych rotations... but how do your patients feel about them? is their autonomy protected? are they in treatment by free choice, and free to leave any time they wish? are they treated as human beings with full self-determination? if you witnessed a situation in which a patient was coerced or forced into a certain treatment, or in which you were not sure whether they were consenting with full knowledge or freedom, would you feel empowered to intervene? or would doing so threaten your career by exposing you to anger and retaliation from your higher-ups? what higher-ups will you be exposed to as a resident, and then as a practicing physician? could you practice in a way that committed fully, 100%, to patient autonomy if you were working at someone else's practice, or in a hospital or clinic? could you, according to current medical guidelines, even if you had your own practice?

when you say "this is the manner in which i would like to help people", what do you mean by "this"? can you define your philosophy of treatment, and the relationship and power dynamic you want to have with any future patients? is it one in which you hold authority over them and see yourself as determining what's in their 'best interests', even over their own expressed wishes? have you connected with patient advocates, psych survivors (other than your friends), and radical psychiatrists and anti-psychiatrists who may espouse heterodox treatment philosophies that you could consider? do you think such philosophies are sufficient for protecting patient autonomy and well-being, or are they still models that position the physician's judgment and authority over that of the patient?

"im wondering if there is a way to reconcile these aspects in a way that one can feel morally okay participating within such an imperfect system"

and here is the crux of the problem with this entire ask. you are wondering how to sleep at night, if you are participating in a career you find morally distasteful. where, though, do your patients enter into that equation? do you worry about how they sleep at night, after having interacted with a system of social violence that may very well have traumatised them under the guise of providing help? why does your own guilty conscience worry you more than violations of your patients' bodies, minds, and basic self-determination?

i can't tell you whether your career path is morally acceptable to you. i don't think this type of guilt or self-flagellation is fruitful and i don't think it helps protect patients. i don't, frankly, have a handy roadmap sitting around for creating a new system of medicine and health care that rests on patient autonomy. affective distress is real, and is not something we should have to bear alone or with the risk of having violence inflicted upon us. what you need to ask yourself is: how does the medical model and establishment serve people experiencing such distress? how does it perpetuate violence against them? and how do you see yourself countering, or perpetuating, such violence as someone operating within this discipline? what would it mean to be a 'good' actor within a violent system, if you do indeed believe that such a thing is ontologically possible?

[smytherines]

I think about Curt's thought process on the staircase all the time. Did he think that Owen fell, was fine, got up and walked away and decided to be evil? In One Step Ahead Curt says things like "what happened to the man I knew?" And "you've lost your mind." This version of Owen is so different to the person he knew that Curt can't bring himself to say Owen's name after the reveal. Not even once. But what does he think happened to Owen?

Technically the Joey Richter tweet about Owen being captured by the Russians and then bailed out and nursed back to health by Chimera to "groom him for future work" is not canon, as it isn't established in the show. But he is one of the three writers, one of the Tin Can Bros, so if anyone knows what happened to Owen after the fall, it would be him. It's sort of a close enough to canon situation.

And realistically... I mean I'm not going to get into the details, but prisoners in the USSR were not treated kindly. We're talking about abuses so horrifying that a lot of prisoners simply did not survive them. So we have Owen, severely injured in the fall, having had a building explode on him, being held captive by a country he just dealt a significant blow to by destroying their weapons facility. The absolute best case scenario is that they don't treat his serious injuries. The worst case scenario is... much, much worse. The kind of thing that can absolutely break someone.

And then Chimera comes along and offers him a way out. Offers to fix his broken body and give him back his freedom (or some semblance of it at least). But their assistance doesn't come for free. He has a debt to pay. And given his injuries he probably can't do the sort of physically demanding work he did as a spy. But he can torture people. He can kill people. He is very good at killing people.

He can't be Owen Carvour anymore, that man died when he fell, when his body broke, when the man he loved left him for dead. Chimera is there during his long healing process, whispering in his ear- this is what your partner did to you. This is what the country you served did to you. This is what being a spy did to you, and wouldn't it be nice to obliterate the whole fucking institution? Wouldn't it be nice to live in a world without agencies, without spies, without secrets?

I imagine that on the staircase, Curt is thinking about how the man he loved, the man he grieved for four years, tortured him. That Owen hated him. That Owen wanted to kill him. That Owen is a monster now, and the kindest thing to do is to put him down. And it isn't until Owen's lifeless body is in front of him that he sees the burns, the surgical scars, the physical devastation of the fall, and starts to understand what happened to the man he knew. That's when he becomes fixated on taking down Chimera. He can't undo what he did, not in 1957 and not in 1961. But he thinks that by taking down Chimera he can make it matter. He can make it right. He has to keep going until he makes it right.

And the more he learns about Chimera, the more he learns about Owen's time with the Russians, Owen's injuries in the fall, Owen's life as the Deadliest Man Alive, the harder he pushes himself to defeat Chimera. Except every new piece of information he learns is like a knife to the gut. His conscience burns at him. He sees Owen everywhere, all the time. Beautiful visions of him, horrifying visions of him, waking, sleeping, wherever he goes and whatever he does. And Owen was right- Curt can never catch up to them. He tries and he tries, but he fails. Whatever promises he whispered to Owen's body, he can't fulfill them. And he knows it. He knows it right up until the moment he dies.

[hailsatanacab]

For the prompt ask game!

9. Sleep deprivation and/or 37. Secret Relationship and/or 40. Identity reveal/major secret reveal

(I selected a few so you can chose the one that resonates the most.)

For any DPxDC characters. <3

*emerges from a google docs, covered in blood and panting* i did it... it is done.

thank you for the prompt!! because i love a challenge, or because i can't stop myself, i went and did all of them!! for everyone!! everyone is sleep deprived and everyone is revealing secrets ^^'

Danny/Tim, mentioned Jazz/Jason

(๑•́ ₃ •̀๑) enjoy!! prompt ask game

kid napping

“Red Robin, sound off. Status?”

“All good here, Oracle. Everything okay?”

It’s been a slow night, never a good sign. Pent up energy itches under his skin and he stretches when he stands, preparing for whatever Oracle is going to throw his way. It’s going to be something, he can tell.

“Good.” Relief briefly colours her voice answers, before she becomes serious again, keys clacking away in the background. “There’s been a report from Agent A. It appears that one Timothy Drake has been kidnapped and is being ransomed for five million dollars and a helicopter. I’m tracing the call now.”

“A helicopter, too? Kidnappers these days, used to be they just wanted their money and that would be the end of it… a fucking helicopter, wow.” Red Hood scoffs, and Red Robin can’t help but join in the laughter over the comms.

“Doesn’t exactly sound like these are the brightest tools in the shed now, does it, Hood? Wonder what poor schmuck they’ve got instead.” Nightwing says, slightly out of breath. 

The smile slips off Red Robin’s face and clammy, cold dread shivers down his spine. A stone settles in his stomach. He wets his lips and clears his throat. “Oracle, can you pull up the CCTV on my apartment near WE? Any closer to tracing the call?”

“Still on the trace, they’re using a jammer. Agent A is cooperating so they should phone back soon, which will help.” she reports, falling into silence as he finds the video feed.

“You know who it is?”

“I hope not.”

It’s tense, he taps his feet on the rooftop, fingers tightening over his grapple as he fights the urge to fly off the roof and check for himself. It better not be him. Please, dear God, don’t let it not be him.

“What are you thinking, Red Robin?” Batman growls through the comms. Red Robin can hear the wind under his words, whipping fast as he no doubt makes his way over to his position.

“I had a, uh, a friend coming over tonight. From behind, he… he could be mistaken for Tim Drake.”

The jokes fall silent, the comms growing serious as they pick up on his tone.

“Well, fuck.” 

“Eloquent as always, Hood.”

“Shut up, bat-brat.”

“You were right, Red Robin, it looks like it was your… friend they caught, instead. About two hours before the call came in. I’m following their van now, I should have the destination soon. In the meantime, it looks like they’re heading towards the docks.”

Red Robin throws himself off the building, shooting his grapple as low as he dares to get the fastest swing he can. 

They have Danny. 

Worry gnaws at his gut even as gravity pulls it into his throat with another swing.

Danny is… And Red Robin means this in the nicest way possible, but Danny is fragile. They haven’t talked about it, but RR knows that Danny has health problems. Something plaguing him since he was young, that’s landed him in the hospital more than once. A weak heart, far too slow to be normal, possibly chronic fatigue—he’s always so tired, falling asleep anywhere he can.

Sometimes, he doesn’t even need to put his head down. Once, when they had gone to the corner store to get some popcorn to enjoy their movie (which Danny had explicitly and repeatedly promised he wouldn’t snore through this time), Danny had rested his head on Tim’s shoulder while they were waiting and he’d just… gone. On his feet, asleep, just like that.

He’d laughed, when Tim woke him up. Apologised. Said Tim made him feel safe enough to fall asleep just about anywhere and—

Red Robin grits his teeth and corrects his course as Oracle updates them with more precise coordinates.

Tim had carried him home that night, piggy-back for four blocks, but by the end of it, he wasn’t tired at all. And that’s another thing, Danny’s just so light. It’s concerning.

They never did watch that movie, but it’s a night that Tim can’t help remembering fondly all the same. They’d ended up rewatching some old sitcom that Danny’s seen countless times but Tim’s never really bothered with, Danny drifting off to sleep again and Tim eventually following him, because… sleep is easy with Danny.

It’s the same for him, he thinks. He can’t explain it, but he feels safe enough to sleep with Danny, too.

He needs to be alright.

“So… Is this friend just a friend? Or a friend friend?” 

“A friend, Nightwing. Now hurry up.”

He’s not in the mood to play these games, not now. There’s a reason why none of them know about Danny, and this is one of them. His family, as much as he loves them, are just too damn nosey for their own good.

“You know that doesn’t answer my question at all.”

“Then why don’t you ask something intelligible, rather than continue with your childish antics?” Robin snarks, and for once, Red Robin has to agree with him. Or, rather, he’s grateful for the distraction that it gives him.

Tim has secrets. He’s sure that Danny does, too, and so far—aside from the standard background check he always runs on new friends and friend friends alike—he’s done very well to respect them. He just can’t say that his family would do the same.

They can be overwhelming, to say the least, and Tim has tried his best to protect Danny from that.

Only to fail to protect him in every other way that it counts.

“How long have you guys been ‘friends’?”

“Nightwing, save it, please.”

“What’s his name?”

He ignores him.

Red Robin lands on the building first, thank goodness. He wastes no time in finding a skylight that can be pried open fairly quietly, slipping inside without a second thought.

“Wait for backup, Red Robin, that is an order!” Batman says, when he lets them know he’s in.

“Negative, Batman. I’m getting him back.”

“Red Robin!”

He weaves silently through the desks on the second floor of the warehouse, always moving, always keeping a trained eye on the shadows around him.

When he reaches the stairs, he hears voices.

“Looks like three of them, armed. The-the hostage is tied to a chair in the middle of the room, he…” Red Robin takes a steadying breath. The person has a burlap sack over their head is slumped to the side, from where he is, Red Robin can’t see if his chest is moving. There’s blood on the floor. “He needs medical assistance. Another two on the northside entrance.”

The comms explode in admonitions, everyone pleading with him to stay where he is, to wait for help, but fuck that. With a tap, he switches them off and he can finally, just about make out the words of the kidnappers as he creeps down the first few steps.

“—shouldn’t he have woken up by now?”

“I don’t know, man, you’re the one that hit him! Do you think he’s—”

“No! I didn’t even hit him that hard, I swear!” the man cries, holding his hands up in surrender. “I just couldn’t take any more of his stupid jokes!”

If there was any doubt in Red Robin’s mind that they picked up Danny by mistake, it’s gone now. Yeah. If you get Danny, you get his stupid jokes, too.

He creeps closer. 

There’s some storage crates between him and Danny, if he can get behind there without being seen then that leaves him in a good position for when whoever’s next in takes out the guys at the front. He can’t do anything without them gone first, not without risking them taking shots inside and endangering Danny.

The man that hit Danny circles round behind him and grabs at his hands.

“What are you even doing, Pat? Who gives a shit, leave him alone.”

“I’m just checking! I just gotta see!”

“Fuck’s sake, guys, who cares? We just gotta get our money, that’s it—”

“And our helicopter!”

“And our—”

“Shit, I can’t find a pulse! Shit, Frank, I killed him, I—”

Jason told him once that when the Pits overtook him, he used to see green. Instead of blacking out, he’d be swimming in that putrid Lazarus colour and he’d slip into that rage and bad things would happen.

He’s heard of people seeing red, too, but really, he thinks that’s more of a literary device.

Tim doesn’t see anything aside from his targets.

A barrage of birdarangs take the guns from the guys at the front, the three around Danny startling badly enough that the guy that kil—that’s behind Danny—stumbles, losing his footing.

Only one of them shoots.

Amateurs. 

There’s a round of curses on the comms as the shots come through. Oracle must have turned them back on.

“Fucking hell—Nightwing and I are at the front, Red Robin, don’t worry about them.”

Red Robin’s barely listening.

He spins, kicking the largest guy in the stomach hard enough so that he doubles over, wheezing. Following through the movement, another kick lands on the side of his head and he’s down. 

The second one, Frank, gets his wits about him and raises his gun, spraying wildly. He’s a shit shot, going wide in panic, and Red Robin simply ducks and rushes forward, keeping low. Tackling the guy, he grabs the gun off of him and uses it to smash him across the face, once, twice, three times, before he stops moving.

“Oracle, get police and paramedics on scene, now.” Batman says, the displeasure in his voice evident. “Red Robin, Robin and I are coming in from the top.”

Pat hasn’t even made it up off the floor yet, scrambling backwards, fear plain on his face. 

Red Robin stands, breathing heavily, gun still in hand.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to do it! Please—please, don’t, please!”

Red Robin doesn’t kill.

Well, no, Red Robin doesn’t normally kill.

No, that’s not quite right, either.

Red Robin has killed. Red Robin will more than likely kill again. Red Robin sees no problem with killing.

The gun is up, pointing towards the guy without any real thought about it.

Footsteps rush behind him, the familiar heavy footfalls of Batman and Robin, so he doesn’t bother turning around. The gun follows the guy as he keeps pulling himself backwards, snot and tears mingling down his face.

“Red Robin,” Batman says, softly.

It’s always weird hearing Batman’s voice like that. It’s not the first time, obviously—Batman can’t use his scary intimidating voice on victims or children, after all—but having it used on him is weird. 

“Breathe.”

“He’s dead. They killed him.”

If hearing Batman’s voice was weird, Red Robin can’t even recognise his own.

Distantly, he realises he’s dissociating. There’s a tightness in his chest, it’s hard to breathe, a growing buzz drowns out any noise in his ears and he can’t think, he can’t—

A heavy hand squeezes his shoulder, jolting him out of his thoughts. Batman reaches around and gently removes the gun from his grip, and Tim feels the instant loss of it. He should have done it, why hadn’t he done it?

Robin takes care of the last man, his crying cut off by a swift kick to the head. Nightwing and Red Hood join them, zip-tying the men on the floor and starting to drag them back to the entrance of the warehouse one by one.

No one says a word.

Shrugging off Batman’s hand, Tim moves towards the chair.

Shaking, he takes a deep breath and removes the sack. The small part of him that was left hoping it wasn’t him, it couldn’t be him, please dear God let it not be him, shatters.

Even dead, he looks peaceful.

Tim’s seen death. He’s no stranger to it, he’s seen what it can do to a person. There’s some blood coagulating over his eyebrows, but otherwise, he looks peaceful. Is that comforting? That he didn’t suffer?

Danny’s head lolls to the side as the sack comes completely away, his hair flopping over his eyes. Tim’s been on at him to get a haircut lately, he thinks it’ll be nice tidied up a bit, just on the sides. It’ll get rid of that permanent bedhead. Help him with job interviews, he’s got to be thinking about that now that he’s in his last year of college.

It’s about the only thing that’ll hold him back, Tim thinks. Danny’s brilliant. Any employer would be a fool to turn him down because of his shaggy hair, but employers are stupid so it makes sense to put your best foot forward and—

Tim falls to his knees.

Fuck.

He’s dead, he’s really—Danny’s skin is horribly pale, cold to the touch. Gone is his bright, cheerful smile. 

“Danny, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, I—” 

He stops himself with a deep, shuddering breath. He can’t break down here, he can’t, he can’t, he can’t.

Instead, he tips forward to rest his head in Danny’s lap, arms curling around himself. They were too late. They got here as fast as they could and they were too late.

 “Danny, I’m so sorry…” he whispers. “I… I love you, I love you, I’m sorry.”

Dimly, he can feel the others standing around them. Someone crouches down beside him, resting a comforting arm over his back, but he doesn’t turn his head to see who it is. He squeezes his grip on Danny’s legs tighter.

“Come on, baby bird. Let’s—”

They’re interrupted by a huge, honking snore as Danny jerks himself awake.

Tim’s head snaps up, staring at Danny with wide eyes.

“You were asleep?” Red Robin springs up, several different emotions rapidly flip flopping through him.

“Wha… What?” Danny heaves a yawn, blinking blearily down at him. “Sorry, I’m just… they were shit kidnappers, man, really boring. Honestly, worst abduction yet.”

“You were asleep? I thought you were dead!”

“Not mutually exlusive, you know.” Danny says through another yawn. He rolls his neck around with an almighty crack and glances at everyone. “Didn’t think I’d warrant the whole Bat brigade, though…”

“The kidnappers thought they had Tim Drake.” Batman supplies, while Red Robin tries to work through the emotional whiplash.

“Ah, makes sense… wait.” Danny sits up suddenly, squinting at Red Robin. “Did you say you loved me?”

“No, of course not, why would I—”

“Tim? Is that—are you—are you Red Robin?”

“Everyone, hold the fuck up!” Red Hood shouts from the other side of the warehouse, having finished securing the perps to a streetlight outside. “Double R is dating Danny fucking Nightingale?”

Well, there goes his identity… Oh, who’s he kidding, Danny’s smart. There’s no way he could have salvaged that. This was not how he thought the night was going to go.

“Cranberry, is that you?” Danny twists in his chair, somehow delighted to see Red Hood rescuing him, too. “I thought I smelled you lurking about!”

“Shut it, you little shit. Since when were you dating this dweeb?”

“I’m sorry,” Red Robin pleads, hands in the air to try and slow down the onslaught of information and insults, “you two know each other?”

“Cranberry?” Nightwing echoes, looking as lost as Red Robin feels.

“Yeah, Cranberry—The Cranberries—zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie. Obviously. Also he’s wearing a big, fuck off red helmet.”

“Yeah, sure, makes sense.”

It’s about the only thing that does.

“And please don’t call my boyfriend a dweeb, Cranberry. Especially when he just said he loves me for the first time.”

“He only said it because he thought you were dead.”

“I am dead, so it counts.”

“Only half, so I’d say that puts you at a solid ‘like’. Tim’s—and savour this, Tim, because I’m only going to say it once—Tim’s intelligent, so I’m sure he’ll come to his senses soon.”

Danny just throws Red Hood such a shit-eating grin. A level of feral that Tim’s only seen before in Damian. 

“That’s what I used to say about Jazz, too.”

Hood scoffs in offence, and to be honest, Tim’s not sure where he should go from here. What the hell is happening, how do they know each other?

“Come on, is anyone going to untie me or am I really meeting your family mafia-style?”

“Do it yourself, Slimer.” Red Hood laughs, crossing his arms.

“Ugh, you suck so much. I’ll fucking slime you, just you wait. Can’t believe Jazz even likes you, I preferred it when she was dating Johnny.”

And then, without Danny doing anything other than muttering obscenities at Red Hood, the ropes fall to the ground. In one swift motion, Danny stands up and stretches himself to his full height of 5’6.

“All of you need to explain, now.” commands Batman, and honestly, Red Robin’s very much on his side of it.

“I can’t believe it… Jason and Timmy are both in secret relationships? That’s… How come no one told me?” Poor Nightwing sounds the most shocked out of all of them. He turns to Damian and clasps onto both of his shoulders. “You’re not secretly dating, are you, D? Please tell me you’re not, please tell me you’re single, please?”

Of course, Robin just clicks his tongue and pushes his hands away. Really, Red Robin doesn’t think that Nightwing’s in any danger of that happening, he’d be surprised if anyone could stand Robin enough to actually date him.

He shakes his head and turns to Danny, who’s staring right back at him, worry clear on his face.

Fuck, he... He's alive. He's really alive.

Tim pulls him into a bone-crushing hug, fingers buried deep in his NASA shirt. Tucking his face into the crook of Danny's shoulder, he laughs wetly with the joy of it. He's alive. He hasn't lost him. He's safe.

“I’m sorry I haven’t told you before now, starshine, but…” Danny breaks the hug and softly pulls away from him to rise on his tiptoes to place a kiss his cheek. The skin burns cold where his lips touch. “I love you, too. Also, you’re gonna wanna sit down. This is going to be a lot.”

[satancopilotsmytardis]

I have a kink for the ask! Free use?

The best part about being an omega, Dabi has come to learn, is that when he has an alpha like Tomura Shigaraki, he never has to prep before he can have his knot deep inside of his body. By all accounts, he should have tried to rip his mate's throat out the second he asked if he could have sex with him whenever he wanted, regardless of whatever Dabi might have been doing prior to that. That's how his father treated his mother when he was trying to knock her up with Shoto, and she wasn't exactly a glowing picture of mental health and his parent's relationship hadn't had a single aspect to it that he wanted to emulate with his lover. But Tomura has trained him to try things at least once and to talk about them a lot beforehand so that he could make an informed decision about things instead of just going on his gut reaction all the time because his instincts were the only thing that kept him safe for a long, long while. 

But he's very glad that he gave free use a chance, because that means while he's sitting, bored, on their couch, trying to pretend to care about the voter polls Trumpet submitted for them to go over next meeting, Tomura just walks into the room, catches the back of Dabi's collar with his newfound strength quirk, and hoists him up. Dabi yelps, fumbling, but ultimately the file goes scattering across the ground and coffee table, before his chest hits the wood too. He can't even try to push himself up before his lover is moving over the couch so that he can get behind him as quickly as possible, shoving the rest of Dabi's coat up around his arms before he reaches for his belt. 

"Spread your legs, firefly." His voice drips with heat in a way that helps all of Dabi's blood rush lower and makes his hole start to drip immediately as well. He whines, spreading his legs as wide as he can as he helps his alpha get his belt and pants open as fast as possible when he grinds his cock against his hole through the fabric. "Such a good omega for me," his mate nearly purrs as he pulls his pants and underwear down low enough to expose him. "Don't even need to warm you up before you're wet. Nothing but a set of drooling holes, isn't that right?" 

"Yes, Alpha," He's breathlessly aroused when he says it, trembling when he hears his mate's zipper pull. Omegas have fought for a long time to not be used like this. He fought his designation his whole life. But he'll be his mate's eager fucktoy whenever he gets the chance if it always feels so good when his thick, long cock sinks deep inside him before the last syllable is even off his lips. 

[just-a-creep-babe]

Grand Opening

(Jeff the Killer x Red) (OC)

Commissioned by @falling-electricxangel -- tysm, I hope you enjoy! And happy birthday to that special someone!! 😉💝💌✨

Masterlist: x

Requests are closed but commissions are open!

Rain patters down the mansion’s large double-arched windows

It’s dark and gloomy outside, as it has been for the past couple of days now, with no signs of it slowing down or stopping anytime soon

For the first few days, the rain had been pleasant; it was calm and peaceful, and the constant drumming of water against the roof made for some nice ambient sounds

But it was starting to get old, and at this point, you’re craving some kind of action

In an attempt to distract yourself, you hum softly as you wander through the vacant halls

Surely, you think, there must be some kind of mischief you can stir up~

Without necessarily meaning to, your aimless wandering brings you right down to your boyfriend's room

Door open just a crack, you push it all the way open to reveal Jeff hunched over his monitor, too engrossed in some first-person shooter to notice you

You roll your eyes with a smile

Leaning against the doorframe, you wonder how long it’ll take him to realize he’s being watched

You idly count the seconds ticking by, watching as he unloads a cartridge into another player, and you have to hold back a laugh at the obscenities he hisses in his concentration

He manages to kill a few enemies, but then another player sneaks up on him and unleashes an onslaught of bullets when he least expects it

The screen turns red and he panics, button-mashing like his life depends on it

But even despite his frantic efforts, it doesn’t take long for his health to drop to zero, and he’s quickly met with the dreaded Game Over screen

"Fuck! Fucking shit! I'm gonna cut your fucking guts open and piss in them, you little twerp!"

He throws his controller down and spins around in his chair, only to finally realize he's not as alone as he once thought

You can't help it any longer; you burst out laughing

"Oh my god—you're such a nerd!"

You laugh so hard that tears form in your eyes, and you have to double over and clutch your stomach to stop it from cramping

"Tch," Jeff clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Laugh all you want, that guy was hacking"

His comment only makes you laugh even harder

By the time you’ve gathered yourself, you realize Jeff has his arms folded over his chest and he doesn't look nearly as amused as you are

"I'm glad you're so entertained watching me die," he huffs sarcastically

"Aw, c'mon,” you coo playfully as you approach him, "don't be upset. You'll get 'em next time"

It’s a half-sarcastic, half-genuine comment that leaves him just vulnerable enough to let you sit on his lap

When you run your fingers through his hair, he grunts, and he seems to relax into your touch

"You're lucky I like you," he mutters, "And you're lucky I'm such a good boyfriend, to top it all off, too"

"Aw yeah?" you tease, nails scratching at his scalp, "I'm that lucky?"

"Mmh, that's right,” an unexpected smirk finds its way to the scars in his cheeks as he hums, “You're damn fuckin' lucky, because I'm the best thing you'll ever be able to lay your hands on. Ever"

You snort

"Oh yeah, you think so? You think you're that good?"

He hums again

"Yep. You wanna know how I know I'm that good?"

You arch your brow

Even though it somehow feels like he’s about to trick you into something, you still take the bait and ask

"How?"

"Because I know just what you like and just what you need"

It's your turn to huff sarcastically this time

"That so?"

"Yeah, that's right, sweets. I know you're just about bored out of your mind right now, and I know you need to get out of the mansion after being cooped up for so long. Isn't that right?"

Your ears perk up, suddenly liking where this might be headed

"And," Jeff continues, "being the best boyfriend I am—the best boyfriend ever, might I add—I've decided; I'm taking you to the aquarium today"

"What?! Really!?"

With a smug, self-satisfied grin, Jeff hums

"Mhm, that's right. There's a new one opening in a few weeks not too far from here, and I've blocked out my whole schedule to take you there today. Aren't I just the greatest?~"

"Wait—what? Today? Didn’t you just say it’s only opening in a few weeks?”

Jeff snorts, rolling his eyes

"What? You're telling me you're too chicken shit to break in a little early for our own personal, private grand opening?"

He flashes a dangerous sharp-toothed smile, one you've come to grow so fond of over time, and you find yourself returning a mischievous grin in response

“Oh, I’m so in"

The trees provide decent cover from the rain as you trek through it, and once in the city, you huddle with Jeff beneath an oversized umbrella to avoid getting drenched

There aren't many people milling about in this kind of weather, but the umbrella also helps conceal your identities—just in case someone might recognize you

It isn't long before you end up standing in front of a large vacant building on the outskirts of the downtown neighborhood

The building clearly isn't new, but it's been renovated and expanded to fit its new role, and it gives the whole place a very quaint, rustic kind of charm

You hum appreciatively as the two of you make your way up the front stairs

You act natural, just like you belong, when you check the front door

And when it's, inevitably, locked, you discreetly creep around to the back of the building

The emergency door is also locked, but neither of you lose hope as you spot a window hatch with an old-fashioned locking mechanism

Jeff presses his shoulder against it, testing the lock, and when he realizes he could break through it without shattering the glass, he pushes against it

"Wait—" you stop him before he can force it open, "what if it's alarmed?"

Jeff pauses for a moment to consider his options

But then he shrugs, pushes against it, and rams his shoulder into it

The lock jostles, wood creaking uncomfortably, and with another hard push, the mechanism gives way and the window pops open with a thunk!

Both you and Jeff look at each other

A tense beat of silence passes as you strain your hearing for any kind of alarm system

But when you hear nothing except rain pitter-pattering onto wood and concrete, Jeff gives another shrug

"Oh well, we'll just make a run for it if we hear anyone coming"

With that being said, he climbs through the opening, then reaches back to extend a hand

"How romantic," you tease

As soon as you're in the building, excitement starts bubbling in your veins

"What do you think we should see first? Think they've gotten all the fish in yet?"

"They fucken' better. C'mon—" without letting go of your hand, he starts leading you deeper into the building, "I wanna see if they've got piranhas"

The space you came in through seems to be some kind of employee access

There's a door to the left, a breakroom to the right, and then a long corridor up ahead

Jeff leads you through the corridor without hesitation

And even though it's dark inside the building, you can still see relatively easily, especially with the emergency lights scattered around the place

You walk by some open storage rooms, and with a quick glance inside, you spot various tank-cleaning equipment and different decorations like rocks and plants

The hallway turns, and as you follow along its path, that's when the smell hits you

You gag, pressing the sleeve of your oversized hoody to block your mouth and nose

"The fuck is that?" you cough

Living in the mansion with the kinds of people that cohabit the place, you've grown quite accustomed to foul odors—but this, this is different

Even through your clothes, the smell seems to seep through, and no matter how you try to breathe, it's like you just can't avoid it

Jeff sniffs the air and grimaces

He spots a room off to the side that's sealed off with a thicker, heavier-looking door, and he nudges his head toward it

You both approach it and, surely enough, the smell grows even worse

Jeff, however, doesn't even hesitate to turn the handle and push the door wide open

As soon as he does, the cause of the smell becomes obvious

Dozens of freezers line the interior of the room, each and every one of them filled with dead fish and visceral mush behind their frost-covered windows

There's a large sink off to the corner, which is still stained red with fish guts, and even despite the various cleaning products littering the room, it still reeks

"Oh my god, that's fucking horrible. Close the door, I don't think there are any piranhas in there"

Jeff snickers at your reaction

"Of all the things you've seen and smelled in your life—fish guts are where you draw the line?"

"There’s enough nasty shit at the mansion as is—I'd rather not have to deal with this sorta thing outside of it too!" you retort with a hiss

It almost looks like he’s about to tease you further, but with a chuckle, he shuts the door close with a firm click

You exhale in relief

“Christ, that was horrible”

Eager to put some distance between the stench and yourself, you continue through the corridor until it leads to a set of wide double doors

Jeff pushes it open, and it gives way to the main room of the establishment

And it’s absolutely massive

A reception area with a wide counter stands at the front of the room to greet guests

Posters and decorations are half strung up around the place, the other half still littering the floor and waiting to be put up

Even the ceilings are high, with banners and plastic fish hanging down to give the impression of being submerged underwater

But what immediately catches your attention is the entrance to the exhibit itself

Neither of you say anything, but you’re thinking the same thing—last person to make it there loses

You both dash through the room as fast as you can

The distance isn't all that far, and you both took off around the same time, so there’s no clear winner

But you still rub it in his face that you were faster—because of course you do—and he still argues that he was faster—because of course he does

Your bickering is only cut short when you notice what kind of room you're in

"Woah"

It's only about one-third of the size of the main room, but it's infinitely more impressive

Because instead of walls at the back, there are dozens of massive floor-to-ceiling tanks, each and every one of them filled with countless different species of fish

The tanks have faint lights in them, which almost seem to make them glow, and the way the water refracts the light casts waves against the walls themselves

Combined with the sounds of the rain still pattering against the building, the whole thing makes you feel like you're in one of those dreams you used to have as a kid

It’s almost surreal

You walk to the center of the room and spin around to see every tank at once

And it feels like you're floating, like you're underwater but you're still breathing

Seeing the exhibit without a crowd only makes it all the dreamier

And since they're not constantly getting stimulated by a swarm of guests, the fish seem perfectly at ease

They swim freely near the glass, with none of them hiding or shying away from you

It's one of the coolest things you've seen in a long, long time

You're so absorbed in taking it all in that you don't even notice Jeff isn't paying the exhibit too much mind

Because the only thing he's looking at is you

You rush up to one of the tanks to get a better look at some of the species

A school of colorful fish swims aimlessly among some dark green aquatic plant

The light from within the tank bounces off their scales, and they almost seem to glitter like gemstones in the dark blue water

When you turn your head, you find a long, almost serpent-like fish weaving through the water in the next tank over, and you don't even hesitate to race up toward it next

You don't know if you're merely imagining it, but as you watch it, its eyes almost seem to follow your movement, like it's equally intrigued by you as you are by it

"Hey look," Jeff's voice suddenly snaps your attention back to the room, "this one kind of looks like you"

You turn to see what he's talking about

He's standing next to a tank on the opposite side of the room, and as you get closer, he points next to him

A flat-looking reddish orange-colored fish swims around near some rocks

It somehow has an angry-looking expression, and the way its mouth bobs open and closes almost makes it look like it's complaining about something

You snort

"Funny"

You turn around to look through the tanks again, this time, in search of a fish that resembles your boyfriend

Bingo

"Look Jeff," you call out to him as you walk up to a different spot, "found ya"

You point to what just might, respectfully, be the dumbest-looking fish you've ever seen

Its eyes are wide and empty, like it doesn't have a single thought in its tiny little fish head, and it seems to bob around with absolutely no awareness of its own existence whatsoever

The more you stare at it, the funnier it looks

And when Jeff walks up next to you, you burst out laughing at his expression

The fish also seems to take notice of Jeff, and for a second, the two almost look like they're both confused by one another

"A fish-brain looking at a fish-brain!"

You burst out laughing again

"Ya think you're so funny, don't'cha!?"

Done getting ridiculed, Jeff grabs you, picks you up, and tosses you over his shoulder like a sac of potatoes

"Hey! Put me down!"

You laugh even harder as he smacks your ass, then starts walking off to god-knows-where

"Help! I'm getting kidnapped by a fish-brain!!"

Another smack! has you dissolving into another fit of laughter

"I'm bout to turn you into a chum and eat you if you don't behave!"

"...Promise?"

Smack!

You giggle as he carries you through the room

And you let yourself get carried into another corridor before he eventually sets you back down

The layout of this new room is strikingly different from the last

It's long, but it isn't very wide, and instead of the exhibit wall being separated by a bunch of small tanks, there's a single large tank at the back with a bunch of chairs facing toward it

It doesn't take long for you to notice it; you're standing in front of a tank of predators

"Holy shit"

You step up closer and press your hands up to the glass

Sharks

They're big

Scratch that—they're massive

Long, sleek bodies that move effortlessly through the water, they're pure displays of strength and grace

They're beyond impressive

It's almost like staring at dinosaurs; impossibly old and powerful and utterly deadly

Deeper into the tank, two smaller sharks, which you assume to be younger, playfully nip back and forth at one another

And even though they're considerably smaller than the others, it's still impressive to see their rows upon rows of sharp teeth jut out whenever they open their jaws wide

You lean in closer, the tip of your nose nearly touching the glass to get a better view

There are so many of them

And the tank is, thankfully, huge; it's big enough to comfortably fit about half a dozen sharks, from the looks of it

You're scanning the water in an attempt to find every specimen in the exhibit, when one of the bigger sharks takes an interest in you

It comes up close to the glass, fully facing you, and you swear you can see countless years of wisdom in its eyes as your sights meet

You're so engrossed in the contact that you fully jump when a pair of hands wrap around your waist

The warmth of Jeff's body presses against your backside, his head coming to rest on your shoulder

"I think," he hums, "if we were any kind of fish, we'd both be sharks. Fast, strong, and fearless. Top of the fuckin' food chain—perfect killing machines"

A shiver dances along your spine

You don't know how long, exactly, the two of you stay there, appreciating the beauty of the ancient apex predators before you

If it were up to you, maybe you'd stay there forever

But when you hear a noise echo from somewhere further within the building, both you and Jeff freeze, and you know your time at the aquarium is just about over

"Shit" you hiss, and then you motion in the direction opposite from where the sound came from, "Come—this way"

You expect him to follow along, but instead, he stops you in your tracks by grabbing hold of your arm and turning you to face him once more

"Why run?" he asks gruffly, and as if to prove a point, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his knife

You purse your lips

"Jeff..." you hesitate, your eyes flickering nervously behind him, "there's going to be a grand opening soon, right?"

"So?"

"So I don't want this place to shut down because of a murder; I don't want it to get a bad rep, and I don't want it to lose funding because people are too scared or superstitious to visit"

He seems to contemplate your words, and when he realizes how much this means to you, he gives in with a huff

It's all the response you need as you take his hand and start guiding him through the exhibit

You wish you could stay and enjoy everything the aquarium has to offer, but you know it's only a matter of time before whoever came by realizes you broke in—and you're still inside the building

Rushing through one corridor brings you to the next, which brings you to another room that leads to another hallway

You can almost swear you're starting to hear the echoing of footsteps behind you

You eventually push through a set of double doors, and without meaning to, you audibly gasp at where you've ended up

The gift shop!

Jeff groans

"Red—no! We don't have time!"

He grabs your hand and pulls you away, much to your dismay

"Just—just one quick peek. I'll make it fast, I promise!"

"If you don't want these guys behind us to end up as fish bait, we gotta go—now!"

You're about to protest again when you hear the footsteps getting closer, the sound now accompanied by two voices talking in a panic

“Fine, fuck it,” you mutter

You rush to the exit door, ignoring the various toys, candies, plushies, and trinkets trying to tempt you from every angle

And you successfully make it to the door, where you push it open and escape scott-free

Or, at least, you would, if the damn door didn't jam as soon as you pressed against it

"Fuckin' shit—ain't no feckin' way!"

You jostle the handle this way and that, trying to force it to give, but it's like something's jammed in the mechanism

Somewhere far off behind you, you hear an unfamiliar voice mention something about cops

"Red—the fuck is taking so long!?"

You can hear the impatience and annoyance in his voice, but you can also hear that faint twinge of stress permeating through as well

"It's—it's fucking jammed or something—give me a second!"

"We don't have a second!"

You hear him move behind you as he hisses the words—and you assume he’s going to lock the other door to the gift shop

And right as he's coming back, something seems to snap! off the lock, and the door finally gives way

You stumble out without a moment's hesitation, and Jeff quickly follows after

Your pursuers don't follow once you're outside the vicinity, but it isn't long after that you hear the cops racing by in the direction you were previously escaping from

Both you and Jeff share a look, and then you both laugh with a familiar rush of endorphins that comes from narrowly avoiding the police

By the time you make it back to the mansion, having left the umbrella behind in a panic, you're both drenched

But you're still high from your trip, so you don't even care

If anything, it just makes it all the more memorable

"God," you start as soon as you're through the mansion doors, "I'm gonna need a nice hot shower after all of that"

You twist the edges of your hoody, and watch as a bunch of water trickles out of it, which makes you chuckle

"Agreed," Jeff hums, and when you look over, you can't help but laugh at the state he's in

He looks like a wet kitten; a miserable, angry, wet little kitten

He clicks his tongue

"Ya like laughin' at me, don't'cha?"

You yelp as he grabs you and hugs you, and then he's spinning you around in his arms and he doesn't let you down until you're screaming for mercy between fits of laughter

It's only when he sets you back down onto your feet that you realize there's something strange and lumpy tucked away in his hoody

"The hell do you have in your shirt?"

He grins, like he thought you'd never ask

And then he pulls out a small plushie from underneath his clothes

"Oh my god, no way!"

It's the cutest thing you've ever seen; a small blue shark with a big, pointy-toothed smile on its dorky little face

"Managed to snag it last minute while you were fiddling with the door," he explains

And as soon as he hands it over to you, you hug it to your chest and give it a big squeeze

Even damp, it's still one of the softest things you've ever laid your hands on

"You like it?" he asks

"Of course I like it, I love it!" you exclaim, "How'd you manage to hide it from me the whole time we were getting back"

He shrugs, then holds his arms out for another hug

"Because I'm just the damn best boyfriend ever, aren't I?~"

[candywife333]

Red Riding Hood

"Scary" wolf hybrid Namjoon x red riding hood chubby reader

Inspired by Cupcakke's new song "Little Red Riding Hood"

Triggers: cursing,, period sex mentions

Debating on a part 2

Blood hell! It was already 7:00 in the evening and it had gotten so dark out, I had hardly kept track. I was supposed to go to grandmother's house to deliver a batch of double chocolate chip cookies that I had just made.

Period cramps were the worst, and the only way I could fight them was by eating so many chocolatey foods that I felt like throwing up. I usually have horrible pain like someone stabbing me with a sword fifty times in my gut as I squeeze out blood clots the size of blueberries😣. I know, my life is an entire travesty.

It's as thought my body was punishing me for not being pregnant😭. Whatever I guess, such is life. I ceased my philosophizing and grabbed a raggedy red hoodie , holes and loose strings all over, that had seen better days honestly. The main reason I planned to wear it is so that, just in case I leak, it is long enough to cover my butt. Therefore, it would almost be as though..........I never leaked.

Grabbing the basket of delectable baked goods, I started walking onto the cobblestone path to grandma's house. I was second guessing my decision to go to her house because it had gotten way darker than I was expecting it to get. And, my period cramps had started up again, slicing me up internally like a guillotine.

As I cringed in pain and felt the cold sweat trail down my temples, I still persisted in walking at a faster pace so I could make it to her house in at least half an hour. The old biddie lived out there in the middle of nowhere ready to be stabbed by a bloody serial killer. It is as though she saw all the horror movies and still decided to have a death wish. Swear on my mother, I loved that old lady. But sometimes she just acted so senile you could question her sanity.

I mean what business did she have living out here in the middle of nowhere, being a living, walking health liability? As I continued musing, I failed to notice the shadow lurking behind me in the growing darkness of the night. I was startled , almost dropping my basket when I heard a deep, rather seductive voice rumble out, " What are you doing here in the dark, pretty girl? Are you lost in the woods"?

Now, correct me if I am wrong. I usually don't judge people. But did this dude have a health condition? Or was he big-foot? Because he was the hairiest human being I had ever seen in my short life---and mind you, I know its a little TMI, but I grow hair on my butt and one day, to my great consternation, I even found a hair on my bellybutton😱. Yeah, we can freak out about that at a different date. So you see, I know what hairy is. But this man doesn't look hairy, he looks almost as though he is covered in fur. A 6 foot dude covered in fur. Worthy of the Guiness book of world records if you ask me. And he stank like five hundred period pads on a vacation in the Bahamas.

Chiding myself for being such a judgmental b****, I said in a confused manner, " Do you need anything Sir? Because I have a place to be, and no, I am in fact not lost. But if you push me a little further , in the rather sensitive state I am in right now, you might........find lost yourself..........if you catch my drift". He gasped , looking rather shocked, "Little lady, are you implying that you will make me disappear---that you will kill me"?

I continued walked at a faster pace away from him as I spelled out in a curt tone, " I can neither confirm nor Deny Mister".

He was really testing my patience right now. I am leaking like the bloody niagara falls and he's trying to interrogate me. Like what the eff did he want from me right now? When I had places to be. Is this how men flirt? Because he was doing a horrendous job at it. He was messing with the wrong b** right now. I am not in the mood for this tomfoolery.

He trailed after me at an equally hurried pace, "Are you not scared of me? Worried that I will kidnap you"? I groaned as I kept walking, huffing out, "If you had that many guts you would've just done it by now dude. Why make threats when you can just do it? Actions speak louder than words. And right now, your actions are telling me that you are a wimp".

He seemed rather affronted, eyebrows wiggling together in a menacing frown as he bit out in a menacing tone, " Did you just call me a coward, young lady? Do you even know who you are dealing with"?

What an irritating numbskull?!!Couldn't he see that I had places to bloody be?😡🤬

I turned to him one last time, taking a cursory glance at his hairy ass and hairy legs. This man did not keep shaving as a priority. "Look bruv, you are doing the most right now. Now, I am not one to mince my words--so I will tell you in the politest way possible right now, since as you can see---I was brought up with etiquette and manners".

I took in a deep breathe to calm myself as much as I could, "Your ass stank like a hundred buckets of sardines left out to dry on a hot summer's day. You talk too much and I am hemorrhaging into my butt crack, which is right now defying all laws of physics. I feel nauseous looking at you, as I am bleeding to death. The least you could do is leave me alone, so I can deliver these gosh darn abominable cookies that I should've just eaten and period pooped it out myself". I started sobbing and crying, so saddened by how much this fool was holding me up ....on my period....in the forkin' darkness.

He looked utterly shook at my monologue. Frozen in place as I continued moving away, weeping into the night, bleeding torrentially as I ran away . Mother fu*** couldn't even give a girl a lift to the place she was going to go. He failed at even being a proper kidnapper. I mean what was he even good for if he couldn't even be a good criminal??

______________Finally at grandma's house🍪_________

I finally got to this old b****'s house. Almost bursting a blood vessel in my forehead. Why the f did she have to live so far away? This is odd, her door was already open. Strange. She never did that. Very uncharacteristic of her. She was all about safety and keeping windows, doors locked --- as though that was going to save her ass from dying in the middle of nowhere.

Pondering upon the morbid nature of my thoughts, I walked in absent-mindedly through her cottage till I got to her living room. There she was, wrapped in a blanket sitting on the rocking chair. She looked rather thick, if you get what I mean. I don't remember her packing on this much weight, or being this tall. She was known for being frail. Something was up.

Maybe she decided that thick thighs save lives or something and started fattening herself up. Who knew the body positivity movement affected grannies too? "Grandma, what are you doing on that chair? Did you have dinner yet? And why is your door open"?

As I got closer and closer to the chair, whoever it was sitting on there, looked less and and less like a grandma, and more like wolf. I froze, confused. What the hell was that on the chair?

The thing on the chair started cackling as the blanket fell to the floor. I yelled in indignation, my patience for life finally cooked to smithereens "WTF ARE YOU DOING IN MY GRANDMA'S COTTAGE YOU HAIRY CREEP? DID YOU EAT HER"? The hairy man I had seen in the woods was dressed in my grandma's nightie , looking at me hungrily -- as though he were a starving waif who saw tiramisu for the first time in his life.

He drawled out in rather disgruntled, irritated voice, "Your grandma is on vacation in Bora Bora little lady. She left me to watch her house. Did you not receive the text last week from her"? I huffed out, annoyed at the blase tone he was using with me, "you freaking liar" as I checked my phone. As he had said, the old biddie had texted me last week about her vacation, and it had gone into my spam.

I straightened up, feeling a little bad for yelling at him. "Then why are you dressed up in her nightie dude? Are you into cross dressing or something"? He looked even more irritated than he did before, eyes shining with frustration as I continued, gesturing with my hands ,"I won't judge you for it. We are totally pro LGBTQ in this household you know".

He suddenly got up from his chair and snatched me up by my waist. He smelled way better than he did before, faintly of lavender as he laid me up on her bed. Wait, her bed? Whoa, Whoa. What the hell. This becoming 365 days way too quickly.

I squeaked out in confusion, "What the hell you doing man? I am on my period. You can not squeeze and manhandle me like that. I WILL LITERALLY SQUIRT ON YOU LIKE A KETCHUP BOTTLE"!! He paused for a second, looking like he was going to die of laughter. As he collected himself slowly, he warbled out, " Look, I am not trying to manhandle you. It's just that I am a straight man who is just in his werewolf form. And you are judging me when I am on my rut".

I bent my head, questioning him, "AND what's that supposed to mean? You get hairy and horny"? He nodded, as though it was all self explanatory. I seethed , metaphorical steam coming out of my ears, "Look dude--I see that you are babysitting my grannie's cottage and you are on your rut, but what does that have to do with you following me, wearing a nightie , and acting like an overall creep"?

His eye twitched as he bit out in an exasperated tone, " I fell into a pile of rotting salmon at my friend's fish farm and came to your grandma's cottage , that I had to check on anyway for the night, saw you ambling down the path and wanted to make sure you were safe in the dark, and then washed off all of the scent ---realizing her nightie was the only clean thing I could wear. That is why you are seeing me here".

I sniffed, astounded at his rather logical explanation, "Fine, then elaborate to me, why you called me pretty lady"? He scoffed, guffawing ,"You mean to tell me, that you are offended that I called you pretty lady? How am I supposed to know that you are on your period and are having a horrible mood swing. I ain't telepathic".

I stared at him, ready to fight him. Yes, he was supposed to know that i WAS ON MY BLOODY PERIOD, BECAUSE HOW COULD HE CALL HIMSELF A WOLF OTHERWISE ? "hOW COULD YOU NOT SNIFF THE BLOOD SEEPING OUT OF MY VAGINA, YOU FOOL"?!!!

He yelled out in panic, " Of course I can SMELL IT WOMAN!!! IT'S DELECTABLE AND YUMMY! BUT I'M TRYING TO AVOID SNIFFING IT FOR YOUR OWN SAFETY , SO I DON'T RUT YOU AND MAKE YOU MY MATE!!! STUPID GIRL, CAN'T YOU SEE THAT I'M ALMOST GOING TO SNAP"?!!!

I settled down, exhausted and almost yawning from this tirade, "You could just ask if you want to eff me you know? I wouldn't mind".

He stared at me in confusion, "Woman, you are unhinged and if I wasn't so desperate, I would walk away. But since I have no choice", he threw me on his lap bringing his arms around my plush waist to make me sit upon his length "Let's get this over with".

[frvnkcastles]

DISAPPEARING YEARS ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: When you get a diagnosis you’ve been dreading, Frank is there for you.

Warnings: Unspecified illness, feminine nicknames, hurt/comfort

Word count: 894

Author’s note: A short but sweet one inspired by That Phone Call from your doctor that confirms what you’ve been expecting. I remember what a gut punch it was to be told I have C-PTSD, and then another one when I was told it was causing psychosis in me, but most recently I got a not-so-nice physical health diagnosis that made this lil fic happen. It sucks. But at least we’ve got Frank, right?

Frank’s hand was heavy but steady in yours as you sat on the edge of the bed with your phone raised to your ear. As soon as it had rung with your doctor’s name blinking on the screen, it had been as if the world had slowed down to nothingness, like everything else was on pause except the bad news you were awaiting. And one look was all it had taken for Frank to take your hand and grip it tightly, silently promising that he was there for you no matter what your doctor would have to tell you.

When a tear escaped your eye and trailed down your cheek, Frank was quick to wipe it away with his thumb, right before he pressed a kiss onto your shoulder and left his chin resting there. The way he attached himself to you was borderline clingy, but he needed you to know he wasn’t leaving your side, needed you to remember the good you had — he rarely saw himself in such a flattering light, but right now, he acknowledged he had the power to keep you going and give you strength. So, he made it his mission to invade your senses from gentle kisses to soft touches and quiet whispers to assure you were doing wonderfully.

It was almost funny how quickly the phone call was over, how your doctor had given you world-stopping news and then just wrapped it up like any other call. But indeed, within minutes, you found yourself dropping your phone onto the mattress and then looking over to Frank who stared back at you with expectant but loving eyes.

”It’s… it’s what they suspected. Just… confirmed it for me. It’s an official diagnosis now”, you whispered after licking your dry lips. You took in a deep breath, and with your face twitching as you tried to avoid crying, you looked away from Frank who was allowing you the time to get it all off of your chest. ”I know we saw this coming, but it just feels so—”, you tried, but like a tidal wave, the first sob broke through you and you lifted your hand to your mouth.

”Hey, hey, shh”, Frank reacted instantly, assuming his turn to speak, and with tender hands he weaved you into a tight embrace that squeezed all the ugly cries out of you.

”I just don’t want to deal with this”, you hiccuped, and still shushing you, Frank nodded against your head and massaged firm circles on your back.

”I know, sweet girl, I know. Hell, it ain’t somethin’ anyone wants to hear. But you took it like a champ, y’know that? You’re a fuckin’ badass”, he insisted, his gravelly voice filled to the brim with love and sincerity as he went on, ”I’m amazed by you every time. I mean it.”

You let your eyes fall shut and felt the tears pour down in response. Still, even as they wet the collar of Frank’s shirt, he was unmovable; constant and reliable as he held you tight to his chest. He didn’t falter for one second, didn’t make you doubt his affection for you as he began to softly rock you side to side.

”You’re right, you saw this comin’. Don’t make it any easier, I know. But in some way, you’ve been preparin’ for it, yeah? We looked up things to make it better together, ’member? You got this, baby. You absolutely do. You have what it takes to get through this, and shit, you know I’d do anythin’ for you. So whatever you need, I’m here for ya”, Frank assured, not even an ounce of hesitation in his voice. The words mixed with the warm embrace made the world seem a little less cruel, and with whatever courage you had left, you mustered a nod.

Sniffling, you leaned back just enough to look at Frank, a small smile impossible to resist when you saw his dark eyes fixated on you and his lips curved up in a hopeful way. ”The doctor did say a lot of kisses and cuddles might alleviate the symptoms”, you pointed out matter-of-factly, and the loud laugh you got from Frank made it all seem worth it.

”That right?” Frank grinned before leaning in to kiss your forehead, followed by your nose, cheek, jawline and finally, your lips. It was long and sweet and warm and safe and you wanted to live in it. ”Won’t catch me denyin’ my girl some lovin’”, he promised before kissing you once more, this time in a way that took your breath away with the heated connection between your lips.

Giggling, you dropped your head against his chest and sighed. ”This all seems a lot less sucky when I have you with me”, you admitted, and with a quiet chuckle, Frank dipped his finger under your jaw and tilted your head up so he could give you a knowing look.

”That’s how I feel about every day, sweetheart. You make life worth livin’. And that’s why I’mma make sure you enjoy waking up every day, too”, he promised, his forehead colliding with yours as he breathed you in.

”This may be a bad thing, I know, but we’ll have lots of good ones. I swear”, he added, and with a quiet nod, you gave him a smile.

”I believe you, Frankie.”

[dumplingprincessextraordinaire]

I’m going to give myself some time sit on it and think more, maybe look for more perspectives and info on it but as of now, my gut reaction to pro paraphilia stuff is kinda “ummm idk about that” at the moment. To be clear y’all aren’t on my DNI list, I’m just iffy/nervous about it. Because my comfort and acceptance currently goes toward FICTIONAL taboos (hence my proship stance) but people who have attractions toward irl beings that can’t consent …. Yeah even if you’re anti contact I don’t know if it’s a good idea to advertise that you’re still supportive of them as people. But idk. Maybe “paraphilia” isn’t as scary as it sounds.

But recently a pro-para blog followed me (I won’t be saying names because they didn’t harm me and also backed off when I asked them to not interact with me) and told me straight up they were a map (I don’t even like that word, would rather just call them pedos to be honest) but were anti contact. Like okay, it’s great you’re not hurting anyone but to be honest I still don’t want pedos or people who are attracted to real animals anywhere near me.

Yes, to be fair, not EVERYONE uses darkship or kinks as a coping mechanism but let’s be honest, a lot of us still do. I use darkship and lolicon stuff to vent and explore what I’ve been through as a teen. So seeing people in the proship community saying “well I still support people with harmful paraphilias, just not contact” STILL makes me very uncomfortable?? Scared?

And on a greater level even just beyond me, I also think it’s going to make it ten times harder to advocate for proshipping. I mean it’s already kinda hard to explain that pro/darkshipping is ultimately harmless and non-toxic, but yall advertising being “pro” for anything to do with irl attractions (harmful attractions, to be clear) MAKES IT EVEN HARDER AND FRUSTRATING WHEN CONVERSING WITH NORMIES/NONPROSHIPPERS.

Lastly, when it comes to people struggling with irl attractions that are dangerous or sexual disorders in that category, I don’t necessarily know if it’s our place? Like yeah we can debate and advocate all day long for expressing fiction freely and anti-censorship but most of us still aren’t mental health professionals and idk if we should be putting out a stance on shit like this. I mean. Irl people with dangerous, harmful attractions to irl potential victims.

I hope this post didn’t come across as mean or attacking anyone because I don’t want it to. I think I have a few propara moots following me (I’m only just now kinda learning what it is) so if y’all can educate me, the comments and reblogs are y’all’s place to do it. Maybe this whole propara thing isn’t even as big in the proship community as it looks or maybe “pro para” isn’t even as scary as I’m seeing it currently. Im open to opinions and education what not. But ofc personal attacks and stuff will be blocked!

Edit:to be clear—I still don’t want irl pedos or zoophiles to interact. But propara blogs in general may, as I’m not saying that automatically makes someone pedo/zoo/whatever else is harmful.