#that it can be kind and healing and helpful

[dinosaurwithablog]

More gentle, wiser, and stronger...

[mosabsdr]

🙏 We’re Holding On – Your Kindness Can Make a Difference 🙏

Hello, my name is Mosab, and I live in Gaza with my family. Every day here is a battle for survival, and I’m reaching out with the hope that someone will hear our story.

The war has shattered our lives in ways I never thought possible. We have lost 25 family members—people we loved, people who were part of our everyday life. Their absence is a wound that never heals. Every moment is a reminder of what we’ve lost. 💔

Our Reality Right Now:

💔 No Stability, No Work – With no income, every day is a fight to make it to the next. 📚 Dreams Put on Hold – My family once had hopes for a better future, but now survival is the only goal.

How You Can Help:

Even $10 can make a difference in our lives, helping us afford food and essentials. If you can’t donate, simply sharing this post can bring awareness and support. Every share is a chance for kindness to reach us.

Why This Matters:

Your support is not about fixing everything—it’s about giving us a moment to breathe, a bit of hope to hold onto. In a world that feels like it’s forgotten us, even the smallest act of kindness reminds us that we’re not alone.

Thank you for taking the time to read this. Your kindness, no matter how small, gives us the strength to keep going. We appreciate you more than words can express.

With all our gratitude, Mosab & Family ❤️

[colossrat]

Marvel is old. Like, not just bcs he is a entity of zillions of years old Billy was born and imprisoned for several years in a relatively conservative time full of prejudices.

When the time bubble pops and the League finds out about it, they expect Captain Marvel to be some kind of very close-minded, militaristic guy who will find the new generation full of sins (They don't know that in Fawcett there is so much magic, different species and queer entities that it is impossible to really be a socially backward place. They also don't know that the captain is a guy who doesn't like the police very much and his favorite sport is beating up nazis)

And well, finding out that the guy you thought would give you headaches in the modern age is actually super happy about it is kind of shocking Batman already had several slides ready to give the captain a lecture about respect

Marvel: Oh my gods, I found some pamphlets about these pride parades. Mr Batman, can I take this weekend off? I would love to go with my brother there!

Batman: Your... brother?

Marvel: Yes! Well, my whole family. We were part of some protests for the queer community in my time, but we were not part of any since the bubble. He liked the idea, but he's too shy to go alone, so me, my brothers and sisters wanna go with him to support him!

Batman: ... Of course, I will arrange for someone to take over your monitor duties

And next week there are several news about how the new-old heroes appeared on pride parade.

They help with things like free water and snacks distribution, first aid for minor injuries, they ensure that no homophobes try to start a fight, they don't let it turn into a mess and in general they also participate. They are practically all painted in colorful colors, their capes are personalized, some of them are dancing, others are further away taking care of the environment. Marvel does some magic tricks, makes rainbows appear in the sky and all that And they absolutely shower the green-suited superhero, aka they bro, with support and love. Vicki Vale and Cat Grant are dying to know why

And things like this just keep happening. Is there a protest in Asia about feminism? The Shazam family will be there, Mary and Darla protesting while their brothers stand around staring at anyone who wants to intervene. Community centers for homeless charities? captain will appear to call the public, ask for support and do some tricks to please the rich Donations to hospitals? They are all out there distributing news, asking anyone who can help, to help. A movement for teacher salary justice in Brazil? They are already there to help Or are movements taking place to preserve Brazilian flora? because of the criminal fires happening in the Amazon? They are there again, using their magic to heal what was hurt, put out what burned and protest, demanding more attention from the government. Do they want to take away land from indigenous tribes? They're going to have to go over the captain first. News broke about high levels of trash in the ocean. But Aquaman barely has time to deal with it himself, he sees his co-worker there with his family gathering pieces of trash and separating them for their own disposal, using spells to separate chemicals and water pollution. Is Gotham suffering from polluted air? The captain will gather a bunch of clouds and sprinkle them with some magic, and his raindrops will gradually purify the air for the people Is a police officer being cleared after attacking a teenager? no no no, marvel will be in front of the police station in the morning along with a bunch of civilians wanting justice Does a police car, or any car in general, have a sticker that supports some kind of tyrannical movement? apology for the Nazis? to an oppressive government? a prejudiced joke? Oh man, you better be ready for dawn with every part of this car missing, probably being sold illegally and having the proceeds sent to charity The fact that the captain calls the police bastard pigs was a shock, some got defensive and such, others thought it was great. It was a slight headache for the Justice League when it came to the media, but it's not like the government liked them before The movements in Brazil are there because im brazilian, raised by a teacher, there was no way to avoid it. Billy come to brasil <3

[carisa-ironfell]

If you're going to church just for the "sermon" and want to get pissy about getting "lectured" instead, you're not actually listening to what's being said (or your pastor isn't saying the right things) and you definitely aren't going to church for the right reasons. It's just autopilot at that point, just a pointless ritual that doesn't mean anything. And I know this from experience because that's WHY I stopped going to church. I wasn't getting anything useful out of it, and the environment was taxing my mental health instead of helping me heal. I wasn't growing, I was just miserable and angry and bitter.

The point of church, as I've always understood it ever since I was little, is to connect with the other members of your community and help each other learn and grow and continuously become better people, to follow Jesus' teachings and LOVE people. You go to church to LEARN, and when needed, to be guided back to the right path by your pastor and/or your peers. That's literally their job. For example, most of Paul's writings. (Paraphrased: Y'all are acting crazy, stop doing that. Here's how to fix it.)

You don't have to agree with others' choices in order to love them, and something that a LOT of Christians seem to miss is: if you're not getting through to someone and you can't change their mind, let it go. The seed is planted, and there's a chance that years down the line, God will speak to that person and they'll be ready to listen. Shouting in their face (literally or figuratively) is only going to make them get defensive and shut down and push that time further away.

Anyway. No one who claims to be Christian or any kind of servant of God should be rejoicing in mass slaughter. And I've had to listen to "Christians" rant about how great and amazing the nightmare in Palestine and other Middle Eastern conflicts are, and it makes me sick. Whether you agree with them or not, people don't deserve to die like that. And if there's a member of a church who tries to implore the president to do something positive about that whole disaster, don't get pissed off with them, because they seem to understand the teachings better than you do.

I don't really consider myself Christian. I want nothing to do with that (generalized) group of people, because I have yet to meet any of them who make sense to me and can help me grow. I believe in God, I do my best to act in ways that reflects Him, but until the church starts shaping up and actually behaving with love and compassion instead of hatred, I'm not involving myself with them. It's dismal to watch and it makes my heart ache. And I can only imagine God probably feels the same way in a lot of cases.

I wasn't expecting to say this much ._. Uhh, sorry if anyone actually reads this lol Be safe and well! With love, Reggie 🤍

The lack of self-awareness is truly astounding.

[bunji-enthusiast]

thought of another request !! (Obviously platonic, love being used in a more parental manner bc yk,, found family)

so, doey is one of the few toys you managed to save and bring back home. He unfortunately has a anxiety meltdown from being outside for the first time in years and reader having to comfort him, talking to him softly and holding him in their lap while he just sobs bc it's so much at once,,

They're like "shh, it's okay, i know, love, i know.."

Idk if that would make sense for a one shot 🙏

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐫

Sypnosis [Being outside for the first time in years can take a special toll on a person, especially if that someone is Doey in particular.]

Character [Doey]

Note || I believe I understand what you mean, correct me if I don’t lol.

The day had been quiet, almost too quiet. The toys, having found their way to your home after months of struggling for survival, were finally beginning to settle in. The factory was far behind them now, the haunting memories of the place slowly fading into the recesses of their minds. The Safe Haven was a place where they could breathe again, feel safe. You, having escaped the nightmarish grip of the factory, had taken it upon yourself to provide for them, to help them heal. You had promised yourself that no matter the cost, you would make sure they were never subjected to the horrors of the factory again.

But even in the safety of this new home, some wounds never healed. You watched as Doey, the plump dough creature, sat at the corner of the living room, his normally playful demeanor replaced by something more distant, more uncertain. His eyes—holes in his head, just faint shadows in the dim light—seemed lost, unfocused. He was far from the carefree toy who had led the Safe Haven group with bravery and kindness. No, this was a side of Doey you had never seen before, and it was clear that something was wrong.

You walked over to him, kneeling down so that you could meet his gaze. He flinched slightly at your approach, and you noticed the subtle trembling in his yellow and orange arms. You had seen toys face the horrors of the factory, but nothing quite like this. Doey had always been strong, calm, a beacon of hope for the others.

But today, that strength had crumbled.

"Doey," you said gently, your voice low and calm, "hey, what’s going on? Talk to me."

Doey's mouth, that simple line of dough, quivered slightly as he took a deep, shuddering breath. He could barely hold it together, his usual bubbly nature drowned under the weight of something far more sinister.

“I... I’m not sure I can do it anymore,” Doey muttered, his voice thick with emotion. It wasn’t like him to sound so fragile, but you recognized the desperation in his tone. “I’ve tried. I’ve always tried... But it feels like no matter how hard I try, I’m just going to fall apart.”

You frowned, reaching out to place a hand gently on his arm. The warmth of your touch seemed to help, though Doey flinched at first. He wasn’t used to being touched like this, not in such a vulnerable state. You could see his struggle, the fear of being broken, of losing himself to the horrors of his past.

"Hey," you said, your voice steady despite the situation, "it's okay. You're safe now. We're all safe."

"But I don’t feel safe," Doey whispered, his eyes downcast, avoiding yours. "Every time I close my eyes, I see... I see them. The factory. The screams. The things I did... the things I couldn’t stop. And now I can’t stop feeling like I’m just one bad thing away from falling apart. What if I’m just a... a toy? A toy made to be broken? What if I’m not strong enough to lead them, to keep everyone safe?"

You could feel the weight of his words, the burden he was carrying. Doey wasn’t just a toy to you. He was a friend, a confidant. His strength was a shield, not just for himself, but for all the toys in the once Safe Haven. And now that shield was cracking.

You knew that the other toys were counting on him, but even they didn’t know the full depth of the struggle he was going through. Doey was made up of the memories and personalities of three children—Kevin, Jack, and Matthew. Each piece of him brought its own light, its own shadow. And while Matthew's kindness and gentle spirit were a dominant force within him, there was also the fiery temper of Kevin, and the deep yearning for something lost within Jack. It made Doey... complicated.

"Doey, listen to me," you said softly, but firmly. "You're not alone in this. You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to keep going. And we’re all here to help you. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself.”

Doey's right arm—yellow and thick—shuddered as he reached up, his hand going to his face, his body folding in on itself as though he could hide from the world. A soft sob escaped him, and your heart ached. You had seen him lead, seen him face danger with a brave face, but this... this was something entirely different. The weight of the factory’s horrors, the responsibility of being a leader, had taken its toll.

"Doey, it's okay to feel broken," you said, your voice trembling just slightly now. "We all have our broken pieces. But that doesn’t mean you can’t still be whole. You’re not just a toy. You’re not just the past. You’re Doey. You’re the one who stood up for all of us. You showed us what it means to keep fighting. And we’re not going to let you fall now.”

Doey looked up at you, his doughy face streaked with tears—tears made of the very clay he was formed from. You could see the conflict in his eyes. The fear of what might happen next. The anger bubbling up from deep within, the fiery Kevin side of him, just waiting to lash out.

But you didn’t let him retreat. Instead, you gently cupped his face in your hands, the warmth of your palms pressing against his cool, doughy skin. “Doey, I’m not going anywhere. I’m here. We’re all here.”

A long moment passed, where Doey simply breathed, shuddering in your hold, trying to steady himself. Slowly, his trembling ceased, his body slowly relaxing into your touch. There was still an undercurrent of fear within him, but you could feel him starting to regain control.

“I... I don’t know if I can lead anymore,” Doey said quietly, his voice still uncertain. “But I... I don’t want to let anyone down.”

You smiled softly, your hand brushing his long orange arm. "You don’t have to lead alone, Doey. We’re all here for each other. Here—it’s not just you. It’s all of us, together."

His yellow and orange arms hung limply at his sides for a moment before he slowly, carefully, wrapped them around you, his stubby red legs shaking beneath him. His embrace wasn’t strong, but it was filled with a sense of quiet gratitude. He was fragile, yes, but he wasn’t alone.

And that was enough. For now, it was enough. You’d be there to help him, just like he had helped so many others before.

"Thank you," Doey whispered, his voice muffled against your shoulder. "I’ll try. I’ll try to be strong. For them. For you."

And as the two of you sat there in the quiet of the room, surrounded by the other toys, you knew that, despite everything, Doey would find his way. Because sometimes, strength wasn’t about never breaking—it was about finding the courage to put the pieces back together when everything felt like it was falling apart. And you’d be there to help him do just that.

[scoupsakakitty]

Beautiful | idol!Hoshi x idolxReader | angst, fluff

Tw: weight loss, not feeling enough

The rain poured relentlessly, blurring the neon lights of Seoul into streaks of color as Hoshi stood outside the apartment building. His fingers clenched around the umbrella handle, though he wasn’t sure why he had bothered bringing it. He was already soaked, and something about the cold seemed fitting.

He hesitated before pressing the buzzer.

Silence.

Then, a static-laced voice: "Who is it?"

Hearing her voice after all this time nearly broke him. "It’s me."

A long pause. Too long.

"Go home, Soonyoung."

He swallowed. "I just want to see you. Please."

"Don’t you have something better to do? Like catching a flight to Japan?" she said bitterly.

"I’ll take the next flight," he replied without hesitation. "You’re more important."

More silence, then a click. The door unlocked. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and stepped inside.

Y/N was thinner than he remembered. The weight loss was noticeable even under the oversized hoodie she wore, sleeves pulled over trembling fingers. Her once-bright eyes were dull, lips slightly chapped, the kind of exhaustion that no amount of sleep could fix settled deep in her features.

Seeing her like this made his chest tighten. This wasn’t the Y/N he knew.

"You shouldn’t be here," she said, voice barely above a whisper.

Hoshi ignored the warning, stepping inside fully. "I had to see you. I had to know if you were okay."

She let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through her tangled hair. "Do I look okay to you?"

No. She looked like she had been barely holding on, like she had been drowning in something she couldn’t escape from. And the worst part? He hadn’t been there to pull her out.

"I’ve been watching you… on stage, in interviews, award shows. You’re disappearing, Y/N. You’re hurting," he admitted, voice raw. "Your friend reached out to me. She’s worried. And she thought maybe… maybe I could help."

Her eyes flashed. "And what? You think you can just come back and fix me? That your presence will magically make things better?"

"No," he whispered. "But I can be here. I can hold you up if you let me."

She scoffed. "You left, Soonyoung. And now you want to be my savior?"

"I never stopped caring," he said, his voice shaking. "I never stopped loving you."

That was the breaking point. Her lips trembled, and before she could stop herself, she collapsed into his arms.

"It’s so hard, Soonyoung," she sobbed into his chest. "No matter what I do, there’s always something wrong with me. I’m never pretty enough, never talented enough. Always too much or too little. They find every flaw, every mistake. The pressure is… it’s crushing me."

He held her tightly, rubbing soothing circles on her back. "Y/N, listen to me. You are the most beautiful person in the world. And not because of how you look. You are beautiful for the way you think, for the sparkle in your eyes when you talk about something you love, for your ability to make people smile without trying."

She clung to him, her breathing ragged.

"I am proud of you," he continued. "I am proud of you for trying, even when it hurts. I wish I could tell you when you’ll finally feel okay again, when your head will be above water, but healing isn’t something you can time. It isn’t something you can measure. But things will get lighter, little by little, as you break through the weight on your shoulders. Keep facing what you need to face. You are getting closer every single day, even if it doesn’t feel that way. And I hope you start to believe that you are worthy of everything you want in this life. You deserve to be adored and cared for in every way your mind, body, and heart long for. You are effortlessly beautiful. You are the embodiment of beauty. Don’t let anyone tell you differently."

She sniffled, pulling back slightly to look at him. "Why do you still love me? After everything?"

He smiled sadly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "The only feeling stronger than my love for you is the ache that comes with missing you. I love everything about you. Maybe too much. But how could I not love that smile, that laughter, those eyes, that passion?"

Her breath hitched, fresh tears pooling in her eyes.

"I hate you," she whispered, voice trembling.

"I know," he said softly, pressing his forehead against hers. "Hate me all you want. Just let me stay."

She let out a shuddering breath and, after what felt like an eternity, nodded against his chest.

Soonyoung held her, his arms tightening around her fragile frame, and for the first time in months, she let herself lean into the warmth she had been missing.

Outside, the rain kept falling, washing away the past, making room for something new.

[holycowboytiger]

Callsign: KIA

Taskforce 141 grieving a fallen member who died alone on a solo mission

GN!Reader

Reader uses Callsign: Teeth

They really should've seen this coming, they should've known, should've held you closer, should've spoken to you more before the mission, should've just,,, been there, before your death.

They knew the mission was dangerous, but it was like you knew that you weren't going to make it back, in the week leading up to your departure you'd been all over them, non stop talking and encroaching in their routines, more than you usually would, smile on your face as you asked for them to settle in to watch a movie before they all turned in for the night.

Sitting with Simon as he made tea, watching Johnny as he trained, forcing your way into Kyle's room so he can sing to you,, or so he can play the guitar and you sing along with him, as horrible as you sounded, you were still there.. and offering to help price with paperwork, practically begging to be close to him, for the limited time you had left.

Truly,, you were well aware that you weren't coming home after this mission, this was the final one, the one that would be on your paperwork that would pronounce you KIA, the one mission that would wrench life from your cold grasp.

They should've known when you hugged them all tighter before getting on that plane, they never should've let you go, they shoul'dve went with you, despite commands protests, they shouldn't have left you alone.

Sent off with a bunch of rookies, lamb to the slaughter, you looked around on the plane at the faces that would soon have grieving mothers weeping, fathers wondering what they did wrong, sisters, brothers, asking why? why them..

it became even more obvious to you that death was on his was to you when the moment you touched down bullets started to fly, confirming half of your team dead before you even got a fighting chance, rushing past enemy lines and into buildings in hopes for five minutes of cover, until the door would be breached and you would have to find a quick escape before they made it into the room you were trying to grasp yourself in

you knew it was hopeless when you entered another house, another room without a window, you heard the door being kicked in and your heart dropped.

you have never feared death, you only feared what it would do to the people around you, how your team would process your permanent abscense

you wondered if there was another side, if you would go to Heaven or Hell, if God was a cruel man with an iron fist, or if he forgave sinners with a hideous soul, with blood drenched hands such as yourself, as you heard the bells of death that were the enemies footsteps ring closer, you made your last call back to base, your final message..

''This is Callsign: Teeth from taskforce 141, radioing in to report,,,, myself, KIA''

truthfully there was so much you could say, so much you kept to yourself, you wanted to tell your friends, your family how much they healed you, and how much you would miss them, and tell them, especially Price not to blame himself for sending you off, you wanted to cry and tell them how scared you were, how you didn't want to go yet, how you still had so much you wanted to see, your bucket list was still full;

You hadn't volunteered at an animal shelter yet.

You hadn't met your favourite artist

you hadn't swam with dolphins

you hadn't had enough time to do anything, you were going to die young, having lived a life unfulfilled..

But as the door of the room you were in was breached and the enemy raised their guns, you found yourself accepting the cursed fate, tears still streaming down your face as you prayed that God was a kind man.

you had once feared the ocean, it was so vast, unpredictable, so deadly, but in these moments, the cold embrace of the waves felt more welcoming that the embrace of death, maybe, in another life, you wouldn't join the military.

Maybe you'd go to college, study marine biology, and meet a grumpy professor who cared too much, constantly extending deadlines for you, have a roommate that was brooding, and intimidating , but that took care of you when you were sick, meet a jock who was strangely obsessed with fireworks,, comparing them to explosions and maybe you'd meet a music major, who wrote his own songs and who sang to you when your head was too loud with anxious thoughts..

in another life,, but not this one.

In this one your grumpy college professor was a man by the name of John Price, and he was your captain, and he was not coping well with your death.

he had turned to the bottle for answers, drowning himself in the numbness it gave him, he relived your last moments with him, and he kicked himself over and over again for approving this mission, even if his command would had fought him tooth and nail, even if he could have risked his career, you'd still be here. John finally considers retiring after your death, thinking of settling down near your hometown, and visiting the places you rambled on about, wringing the memory of you dry.

Your brooding roommate was your teammate, and his name was Simon Riley, and your death was cutting him deep.

He wasn't sleeping, or eating, he was barely functioning, he didn't speak for weeks after he heard the news, and even now he was incapable or forming full sentences. Simon had lost people before, he knew what it was like, but- something about your death brought him to his knees. He visited your grave, nightly, and that was the only time he would speak.. to you.

You were usually the one who filled the silence and Simon was the one to listen...how times change right kid?

He would scold, shout and give off at you about everything you did wrong, how you could've made it out, and by the end he was a blabbering mess of sobs and muffled cries as he begged it to be a joke, he begged you to appear infont of him and smile, hitting him over the head for being stupid before guiding him inside, and making him tea so he could finally sleep....

The firework obsessed jock, was Soap, Johnny MacTavish, your brother in arms,,, and in all senses of the words, your brother- even if not bound by blood, and he was in denial about your death, he still believed that you would walk through the doors and laugh at how sad they all are, claiming that they really ''did like you after all''... but he knew you weren't that cruel. He knew death was.

He'd never been through such a big loss, he'd lost men, teammates, but never friends,,, not his bestfriend.

Johnny brings himself to near insanity in his denial, he used the fact that you were able to send a message and that there was no body as his solid proof that you were still out there, but as he watched the life drain from the taskforce, and as he went through your room, cleaning it out for..someone else.. keeping most of your belongings to himself, he slowly started to let go of his doubt.

The final nail in the coffin was when he had to call home to let his mother know that you were no longer coming home for the holidays, and as she wept over the phone, it took everything inside him not to scream, trying not to picture you empty seat at his dinner table on Christmas.

Johnny still keeps your photo in his wallet, he wears your jacket, uses your headphones, he still keeps you around, even when your gone..

That music major, was your good friend and teammate Kyle Garrick, and he had never felt so lost in his entire life.

Kyle knew that a death like this would happen, it isn't his first time losing someone on the field, granted, the teammate was alot less close to him, but still, radioing in his death felt like a sin- a curse so could it should not grace his lips. although, nothing would beat your official KIA message, and how you had to pronounce yourself dead, nothing crushed him more than how tired and scared you sounded, knowing that death was knocking at your door.

Kyle turns to his music, he writes song after song about his grief, never having the nerve to actually preform them, knowing he'd wreck himself, knowing he couldn't get past the first verse...

He wrote one song he was able to play to its fullest, with the title being your name, and instead of it being about your death, it was about you, as a person, about your eyes, your skin, your teeth, your laugh, your warmth, your flaws, about your humanity.

The Taskforce will never function the way it did again, you, had left a gaping hole in their foundation, as the years pass, your memory fades from the barracks,, but it shines through the cracks, your favourite mug remains in the cupboads, your favourite movie was still religiously played on Sundays, hell, your favourite food was still in the fridge..

They will never get over your death, but they can learn to live with it,, its what you would've wanted.

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

Hey. I hear you. And I understand why you think this is an empathetic or thoughtful response to have to OPs point but I'm gonna push back just a bit.

For many people, that's WORSE actually than you taking the time to cultivate a healed relationship with your actual home-land. It can be DEEPLY disrespectful to the people forced from their land on your behalf to assert that your guilt and shame is enough to alienate you from that which was STOLEN from them.

My wife and I have this circular talk on occasion where she has to remind me sometimes "my entire history was taken from me and the closest I could ever come to having any of it back is guesswork and a semi-appropriative (in her experience of how this plays out for her, not an inherent judgement on others) relationship with the cultures that MIGHT be hers. We both have "stolen homes, genocide, and forced relocation" in our history, but where I get periods of record keeping and cultural exchange to anchor me to my past, my wife doesn't, and that was inflicted on her family ON PURPOSE by people like my OWN family ancestors. She has shared with me before how hurtful the idea of unattached alienation from the land can actually be for someone with nothing BUT connection to physical land itself to help her make meaning of her history, and even that is rarely accessible.

So if this is true, consider challenging it a bit. Why do you think that "two wrongs make a right" here where if you hate your people publicly enough you won't have to actually do the painful work of exploring and reconciling your relationship to land, power, and shared social connection? Why would you rather abdicate all responsibility for your relationship to these things than truly undermine the "us vs them" mindset on display in this kind of conversation?

You aren't more righteous for hating what your ancestors did, and OPs ask had nothing to do with your shame. Why did you feel it appropriate to center those things in a close-ended response that decentered the actual experiences being discussed in order to narrow the scope down to a black and white immaterial stance?

I understand these may feel like aggressive questions, but I am asking them with care and openness here, because I know I've needed that in the past when shame was blinding me to the ways I was being cruel or dismissive of the pain others chose to share with me.

the reason that white Americans going "I'm going to move to ___" during all this insults me so much is not bc I care whether they leave or go. I think it bothers me deeply bc it shows such a... Lack of attachment to the land that so so SO many people suffered and currently suffer for.

The indigenous peoples here were mass murdered for centuries for their own land. My people were brought here in chains for centuries, then bred like they were lower than animals, just to work this land. People of color here and abroad suffer just to maintain this place's spot in the global hierarchy.

A lot of BLOOD went into this soil that y'all's ancestors wanted so fucking bad, a lot of privilege (whether you want it or not) was built through so much suffering for you to have. And as soon as the going got tough, your only comment was "well, I wish I could settle somewhere else now". 😐 It just is truly a slap in the face, that y'all don't even care that much about what was committed for you to stand where you are.

And maybe if people acknowledged that privilege more I'd be less mad, but no. They claim to not even know 😭 like all right then

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

back to life. l Joel Miller

Summary: an attempt to return to normality

Warnings: angst, a little bit of smut (+18), lots of bad emotions, tw: depressive episode; Tommy, Maria and Ellie; violence

A/N: it's a hard time for me. but I found a moment to write this. sorry that I'm still stuck in this series, it's comfortable for me

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

The next few days were really hard. Joel felt like every cell in his body was hurting him, even though it was you who had been through so much. The wounds were healing, the bruises were fading, but you were quieter and less visible. If it weren't for his willingness for you to take a bath, which Joel thought was the best thing for you, you wouldn't have gotten out of bed at all.

But Joel experienced something else during that time. In addition to fear for you, he encountered incredible human kindness and empathy. The people of Jackson seemed moved by what had happened. Soon, when Joel was on his way to the clinic about his collarbone, an older man who owned a bakery pressed a fresh loaf of bread into his hands and said with a smile that it was for you. 

Mrs. Russo appeared at the door the next evening, bringing with her a few of your favorite dishes. "I guess you don't have the head for cooking now. Take this, she's been enjoying it so much lately!"

Rory and his mother also showed up, and the boy handed Joel a bouquet of the first spring flowers, which he placed next to your bed. The small smile on your lips was worth everything.

Almost every afternoon, Ellie would sit with you, telling you that she absolutely needed help with her homework. Joel thought she was exaggerating and that she certainly didn't have that much to study for, but you were starting to get involved. Evenings were for the two of you, though.

Sometimes Joel would play something on the guitar, feeling your eyes follow his fingers as they struck the strings. He hadn't done it in years, but for you he'd pulled from his memory many of the songs he knew. Or he'd read books aloud. His warm, low voice carried through the bedroom, and you'd listen, clearly soothed by the sound.

Your bubble had to stretch, though, and it happened one evening. Joel came back later than usual, and then he convinced you to go downstairs. He led you out to the terrace and showed you something he had made for you. A wooden bench, very carefully crafted, with ornate armrests and fancy decoration. He had been working on it for a long time.

"It's so beautiful outside. I thought you might like to have your own place." he said, a little worried when he saw the tears in your eyes and your trembling lips. "You can spend time here, bask in the sun, read if you want."

"Nobody has ever done anything just for me." you said quietly.

And before he knew it, you kissed him, so truly. He hadn't felt the real you in a kiss for a long time, and now you were with him. In his strong arms, you were like a fragile creature, but Joel felt happy that you had achieved so much together. He believed that everything would be fine.

From then on, everything slowly began to change. You spent more time outside, and sometimes you went with him to the stables to take care of the horses. After a few days, Tommy and Maria invited you for dinner, and you showed up there too. When the dance was in Jackson, you went together, although you seemed hesitant about it, but Joel managed to talk you into a few slow dances with him.

"I want to take her out of Jackson," Joel stated when he and Tommy met up at the Tipsy Bison for a drink one day, "Just one day. We'll take the easy way out."

Tommy nodded, "It would do her good. Can she handle it?"

"She's tougher than we think. I can see she needs to get outside of those walls, even though she's still scared."

"And you're going to let her?" Tommy shook his head in disbelief, "What did she do to you, bro?"

"I miss her, you know... She's physically there, we sleep in the same bed, we eat together, we live together. But she..."

"I can see it in her eyes. What happened to her changed her... It would change anyone."

Joel took a sip from his glass. He didn't want to tell his brother that you hadn't slept together since then. No, Joel wasn't complaining. Your relationship had never been just about sex. But he still didn't know if he would scare you if he initiated it. You were sensitive and delicate, and although he knew you loved him, you didn't take that step yourself.

That day the weather was beautiful. The spring sun settled in the sky, and the forest and the surrounding area were beautifully green. You walked together, close to each other. 

Joel told you what had changed in the area recently, that the attic in the permanent barn on the other side of Jackson had caved in, or that he had seen a family of foxes sneaking past the camp during a patrol. He spoke as if you had been sick for a week, not completely cut off from life for almost a month.

You felt good, especially since he was next to you, and the care and tenderness towards you emanated from him. You wanted to go back to him, completely, but you weren't sure how to do it. Every day, every attempt, cost you a lot of strength. Guilts of conscience were churning inside you.

"I'm sorry, Joel." You finally said when you stopped at the edge of the forest.

Joel looked at the horizon, trying to see if the area was still safe for you, and turned around, surprised.

"What are you apologizing for, darling?" he asked, taking a step towards you.

You seemed so small to him, as if many things were pressing you to the ground at once, and you were barely able to stay on two legs. You looked at him as if you were about to cry.

"For everything." you finally answered "For having to take care of me. For every day that is so hard for you. I wish things were like they used to be... I don't know if I can. Maybe... Maybe..."

"Don't do that." he interrupted you, approaching you and taking your face in his hands "Stop here. What happened to us, what happened to you, is neither of our fault. But we'll deal with it, right?"

"How? I thought I was strong, but this..." you closed your eyes, and tears flowed from under your eyelashes. Joel patiently wiped them away with his thumbs "I keep wondering... Every shadow, every rustle makes me tremble. I've become nothing but a problem for each of you."

His strong arms wrapped around you and pulled you tightly to his chest. You snuggled into Joel with all your might. His arms were your shelter, the beating of his heart soothed yours. If it weren't for him, you would have fallen to pieces a long time ago.

"You don't even know, silly, how many people care about you and want to help you. They ask about you every day. You're not the problem, but you can't be strong all the time either. Believe me, I know what I'm talking about, because I tried to be. You and Ellie hold me together. Now it's our turn, we won't let you fall apart." He kissed the top of your head and sighed deeply "You don't even know how much I love you..."

It was late when you got back. Your clothes smelled of forest and wind, just like Joel's. You felt tired, but you were also a little lighter, more confident. He saw it in your eyes and promised himself that soon you would go out together again outside Jackson. 

However, Joel was most surprised when he felt your arms wrapped around his waist as he stood in the shower and the streams of hot water washed his body. You clung to his back, so gently as if you were afraid he would push you away. But Joel kissed your hands, and then turned around and looked at you with such love that you had never seen in his eyes. 

So you surrendered to this moment, because you wanted to, because it was him, because you wanted to feel alive again. 

And when you felt his cock moving deep inside you, when his lips caressed your neck, and the cool tiles imprinted on your back - only God knew how much life flowed in you again.

"Sorry, I wouldn't keep you from your work if it wasn't so important."

"Don't worry, the laundry will definitely wait for me." you chuckled as you and Maria headed towards the building that served as the city hall or headquarters in Jackson.

It was already late in the evening, Joel hadn't come home yet, and you were busy with the usual household chores. The following days were somehow easier and you were happy to have your strength back.

You went inside and Maria led you to the back. You noticed a few men in the rooms, who were also taking part in patrols. They seemed strangely tense to you, but Maria quickly drew your attention to herself.

"Listen, this could be an unpleasant experience for you." she said, her hand stroking your arm. "But we have to be sure."

"What do you mean?" you asked, frowning. "Did something happen? Something with Joel or Tommy?"

Maria shook her head, then pushed the door open and nodded for you to enter. It was a dark room and you noticed that the curtains were drawn tightly and the only light came from the lamps placed on the walls. In the middle, three men sat on chairs, they were not residents of Jackson. They seemed strangely familiar to you, but you couldn't...

Someone said your name and you noticed Joel and Tommy standing nearby.

"What's going on?" you asked quietly. "Who is it?"

Tommy cleared his throat. "We've been following them for a few days. We suspect that they attacked you. You, Sam and Anthony. One of them had Sam's private things."

You looked at the men again, now you understood. And they must have recognized you too, because they twitched nervously. Two of them looked away, trying to avoid your eyes, but one of them was staring at you wildly.

"I know that pussy." he muttered, a smile twisting his face covered with thick stubble "I thought you died in the woods. You're a smart bitch."

There was a loud impact, it was Joel who hit the man without thinking. His head tilted back, but after a moment his quiet laughter filled the room.

"Is that your pussy? How was I supposed to know that it already had its owner?"

"Don't you dare talk about it like that!" Joel growled and wanted to hit him again, but Tommy grabbed his arm.

He looked at you carefully. "Is that them?"

"He recognized her!" Joel hissed furiously "That should be enough!"

"I need to know!"

You weren't fully aware of it, as if your body had made the decision itself. Your head twitched in confirmation. That was enough.

"Get her out of here." Tommy ordered.

"Joel! No!" you groaned, but someone's arms grabbed you and forcibly led you out of the room. The door slammed shut with a bang. Even though you didn't see it, you knew what was about to happen.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @somedayheaven @underneath-the-sky-again

[runninriot]

when it's love, it lasts forever

another fill for my @steddiebingo card

prompt: mixtape | rated: T | wc: 1.733 | tags: post Vecna, established relationship, romantic fluff, reminiscing about the past | also on ao3

   “Oh my God!”

Eddie’s stunned voice filters in from the other room, causing Steve to stop what he’s doing. He sighs, feels mocked by the piles of clothes still scattered around the room, waiting to be organised into the newly put up dresser.

Steve cracks his neck and rolls his shoulders, trying to ignore the dull ache in his muscles. He is tired. Exhausted from the long drive, physically drained from loading and unloading the van, from carrying boxes and furniture – there’s so much that still needs to be done, which is why he hates to leave his task unfinished.

But curiosity wins, so he walks into the living room to find his boyfriend sitting on the floor with his back turned, surrounded by boxes he was supposed to unpack. Instead of him stacking up the bookshelf like he said he would, it seems like something else must’ve caught his attention. Not that that’s new; Eddie gets so easily distracted sometimes. Steve doesn’t mind, has long since learned to keep up with his boyfriend’s antics – he’ll get there eventually and a little distraction doesn’t hurt anyone.

   “What you got there, babe?” Steve asks when he walks closer, trying to look over Eddie’s shoulder to see what’s gotten him all excited.

   “I can’t believe you still have that.”

Eddie blinks up at him with big, round eyes that have gone all soft, revealing the small treasure he’s cradling in his hands.

It takes Steve a moment to recognise it but when he does, his heart does a little flip.

   “Oh.”

He crouches down to get to Eddie’s level, can’t help but smile when his eyes catch the familiar drawings on the paper inlay peeking through the plastic case – the two bats in the centre, one with nails and one with wings; a heart in the top left corner with their initials in its middle, and a scatter of flowers to fill the empty space. Eddie’s handwriting at the top, ‘THIS IS MUSIC!’ screaming back at them in bold letters.

   “Of course, I kept it,” Steve finally says after clearing his throat, feeling oddly sentimental now. “I kept all of them. Everything.”

It’s true. Steve has kept every little piece of memorabilia he collected over the years. From the movie theatre ticket stub of their first unofficial date to the little note Eddie had left after spending the night at Steve’s for the first time. From the faded and wrinkled flyer of the first Corroded Coffin show Steve ever went to, to the mixtape in Eddie’s hands.

Maybe he should feel embarrassed about it, but instead of making fun of him for being such a sap, Eddie just smiles, eyes so full of love that Steve’s insides turn into a mushy, gooey mess.

   “This one’s my favourite,” he confesses, stroking a thumb over the case whose scratched surface shows all the signs of passing time and overuse.

   “It was all I listened to for weeks.”

He’s not even exaggerating, knows every song on the tape by heart from listening to it on repeat. Played the cassette so many times it’s a miracle it didn’t break, unwind or outright combust.

   “God, I remember how nervous I was to give it to you. So scared you’d hate it.”

Steve remembers, too, can see it so clearly before his mind’s eye.

After spending months in physical recovery – after Death had unsuccessfully tried to snuff out his life – Eddie had finally gotten the all clear from his doctors. ‘I’m as good as new,’ he’d announced when he entered the Harrington home, a six-pack of beer in one hand, joking about being ready to get drunk on his first sip after having been forced into abstinence for so long.

Eddie and Steve had become quite close during their time of healing, when everything kind of seemed on hold while Hawkins slowly came out of the state of shock it had been trapped in for months.

For the most part, people had thankfully remained unaware of the true horrors, eating up the highly dubious cover-up stories they’d been fed by the government. But Steve and Eddie and their little band of misfits had a lot of coping to do. Kept holding on to each other, finding strength in the support of their tightly knit circle of friends to deal with all the shit they’d been through together.

Despite everything, Steve would be lying if he said that he wished none of it ever happened because without it, he never would’ve learned what true happiness feels like. Would’ve never gotten to know Eddie the way he had after the almost-end of the world.

It was then, in their time of dealing with the aftermath of their final war against hell, something had started to sprout and bud inside of Steve.

Something that grew and kept growing until it was in full bloom, impossible to ignore anymore. Until, with a bang and a crisis and a lot of emotional support from Robin, Steve finally realised that what had blossomed over time, was actually love. Love born out of trauma and friendship and trust and survival.

They hadn’t talked about it then, that day Eddie came to celebrate his newly recovered life with him. But even though his own feelings had yet to be formed into words to be spoken aloud, Steve had noticed a shift in Eddie’s demeanour over the course of their growing closeness. Had this lingering impression that maybe he wasn’t the only one having to deal with a riot of unsorted, confusing feelings.

He could sense how nervous Eddie was that day. Could feel the crackling tension between them when they were sitting side by side on the back porch, brushing fingers when passing their shared cigarette from one to the other.

    ‘Got something for you,’ Eddie had said after finishing his beer, cheeks red, eyes cast down to where his right hand kept playing with the pocket of his jean vest.

   ‘What is it?’ Steve had asked in return, sounding breathless for reasons unknown to him at the time.

That’s when Eddie retrieved a cassette from his pocket, a mixtape he said he’d made just for him, with songs that reminded Eddie of Steve and songs he wanted Steve to listen to because they meant something special to him. And all Steve could do was stare. Stare and wonder and hold his breath, scared of opening his mouth, of possibly saying something he’d regret. Not realising how long he must’ve stayed quiet. So long in fact, Eddie started to pull back the hand holding the tape.

   ‘It’s- it’s stupid. Sorry.’

After weeks of fighting himself, Steve couldn’t hold back any longer. Couldn’t fight the urge anymore, the overwhelming need to break down the last remaining barrier that had kept him from finally telling Eddie the truth.

Only he didn’t say what he wanted him to know and instead, balled his fist in Eddie’s shirt to pull him in, crashing their lips together without warning. Kissing him in a way he’d hoped would be enough for Eddie to understand what he was trying to tell him. Pouring all his feelings into every press of lips, letting love spill from his tongue.

Love Eddie reciprocated in a way that was almost too much for Steve to handle – unashamed and unfiltered, confessing his feelings like it was the easiest thing to do.

That night, after Eddie had gone home, Steve lay in bed, not asleep but with his eyes closed, listening to the mixtape Eddie had made for him. Letting the music take him back to the moment in the Upside Down, brushing shoulders with the frazzled, doe-eyed man on the run – ‘Ozzy Osbourne? Black Sabbath? He bit a bat’s head off onstage?’ – laughing at himself for how clueless he’d been about so many things.

Steve has learned a lot since then. Not only about the seemingly endless list of things Eddie’s interested in but also, more importantly, he learned so much about himself.

   “Wanna listen to it while we ignore the mess and get to the good part of finally having an apartment to ourselves?” Eddie winks at him, the mischievous glimmer in his eyes telling Steve everything he needs to know.

   “You mean jumping into our new, giant bed so you can cuddle me until I fall asleep?”

   “Something like that, yeah.”

Tomorrow, Steve will be mad at himself for letting Eddie seduce him with his dorky charm, when he wakes up to the chaos of all the boxes still unpacked. And Eddie will be mopey as hell when he realises that they haven’t even recovered the coffee maker and cups from whatever cardboard prison they’re still stuck in.

But right now, none of that matters. Not when they’re kissing and touching each other to the sound of the music that means so much to both of them, memories locked in songs, every beat of drum a matching tune to their hearts’ rhythm. Sating their hunger for flesh and that deeper kind of love. Holding each other close in the comfort of their intimate bubble of you and me while Eddie – Van Halen, not Munson –  strums his guitar and sings along to the voice of Sammy Hagar, filling the background with a song that feels like it was written for them.

    How do I know when it’s love?

    I can’t tell you but it lasts forever.

    How does it feel when it’s love?

    It’s just something you feel together.

Later, when the music has long stopped and Steve allows sleep to slowly take a hold of him, he remembers the words and silently agrees. Love isn’t something that can be categorised into how or when or why. It’s something you just know is there because you can feel it in every part of your being. It’s something you can share through touch, and show through little things, and express with words – but even without all of that, there’s no doubt that their love, just like the song rightfully claims, is made to last forever.

It’s the essence of Steve’s existence, the one thing he can always hold on to, no matter what. This love for a man whose appreciation for life – after almost losing his fight against death – makes every day extra special. A man who constantly reminds him of how beautiful life is, and continues to make it so.

[biteyoubiteme]

rosé

yeonjun x fem!reader warnings:🔞!!! tw:stepcest, don't like don't read!, vibrator use, no penetration, mentions of biting/teeth used, panty-fucking, prob forgot some sorry wc: 2.2k an: uuummm so look away I guess I still wont take requests for this kind fic and im not tagging my usual taglist so :p pls don't read if you don't like it

“You have to be joking,” your hand is still caught on the doorknob, frozen in place as you take in the sight of your childhood bedroom. Half the space was covered in boxes, labeled in the sideways handwriting of your step-mother. But everything else was frozen in time as the day you had left for college, frozen as the last holiday you had been back, ugly Christmas sweater thrown at the edge of your bed. Even the lone mattress on the ground from where a cousin had spent the weekend was waiting to be slept in. 

And that is where Yeonjun stood, his chuckle caught between shock and humor. He was holding a half-drunk bottle of rosé, the cap still screwed on the cheap glass. “You're not very good at hiding things,” he shakes the liquid enough to draw your eyes to it. 

“Going through people's things is childish,” you mutter, tossing your bag next to the bed, “shouldn't you be in your own room?” 

It wasn't new to see him around the times that you visited, he lived only a town over, closer than you had stayed when the two of you had dispersed from home. He wanted to stay close to his mom, loved to rub it in your face when you came back that he was the better child. Your parents hadn't gotten married until the last year of high school, too soon for you to really find a connection with your new step-mom in a way that yeonjun had found with your dad. 

“They turned my room into a gym,” he kicked at the boxes littering the space, “they haven't gotten around to clearing out yours but it's going to be the guest room from now on,” 

“No-” you groaned, falling back on your bed, “I don't want a roommate for the weekend, I wanted relaxation,” it's not that you care they are changing things around but it was less appealing to have to know every time you came home you would have to spend it in the same room as any cousin, family member, or, like now, stepbrother.  Some selfish part of you hadn't liked how changed everything had become since the added members in the house had become permanent, your room had stayed yours, and if you had anything left of before it was this. 

“You don't want me around? I'm good company,” you can hear the dip in his voice, the low murmur of it making you shiver. You sit up on your elbows, rolling your eyes at him. 

“Don't take that tone with me,” but it's weak, the both of you know it, testing the line drawn in the sand every time you two had the opportunity. Spending time in such close quarters didn’t help it in the slightest. The two of you had agreed, or you had told him, that you wouldn't push it further than the teasing, and yet… 

Yeonjun’s lip lifts in a smirk, just high enough to show his teeth, calling your bluff. You remember that hazy period in time when the two of you didn't have to keep apart, fumbling kisses shared at a party, hands finding places neither of you wanted to pull away from. It was only a few weeks later when you were told about the engagement, the shock was a bucket of ice water thrown over the two of you. Suddenly flirty glances in class turned to frozen glares and when you moved in that last year together it had felt suffocating. It had been a mix of teenage annoyance and rebellion to avoid him, and you did in the short few months you spent in his company. 

Then you had both gone to college, two separate universities on opposite sides of the city. It had been easy to ignore him but easier still to find it in you to heal the indifference into tolerance. But then you found yourself at a party, the lights low and his smile just like this one now. You couldn't blame drinking, couldn't blame anything except the fact that you wanted to kiss him again, needed to devour him in the way that he had consumed your mind anytime you thought of him. 

You had been the one to stop it before it had gone too far, in the backseat of his car, grinding on him, still chasing his lips even as you said ‘We have to stop’ his soft reply of, ‘We should’ without either of you pulling away. It had been on your mind every time you saw him again, especially now. 

“Fine, but I want a thank you, I found all your contraband that you wouldn't want them to find when cleaning your room out,” he lifted the bottle again, “how long did you have this stashed in the back of your closet?” 

You had forgotten all about the bottle, less so about most things sitting in your closet, drawers, or under the bed. You had moved out your important things, anything left was by mistake or unimportant. “Who cares we are adults, a little rosé is nothing to worry over them finding,” 

“And this?” you didn't know what to expect when he lifted his hand, another lone bottle of some other drink you forgot about was nothing to worry about and yet it wasn't that. There in his hand was a slim vibrator, pink and a foreign sight in his grasp. 

“Yeonjun-” you whisper shouted, the two of you were alone in the house, the bedroom all the way up in the attic space. But it felt like you couldn't scold him loudly, your face flushing, heat spreading all over you. And he chuckled, shoulder shaking as he flicked his finger over the button to turn it on, the soft buzz making you clench your thighs. “Put it away,” 

“Should I? I charged it and it would be a shame not to use it, if even a little bit,” he stalked closer, slow like a prowl, already having his sights set on eating you alive. “And you already look like you want it on you,” you watched the way his eyes flickered down to your thighs, rubbing together as you tried to deny that they were doing so. 

“We said we wouldn't,” you whisper, hands twisting in the sheets as he leans down nose so close to bumping yours, breathing in the same air. 

“We said we shouldn't, that never stopped us before,” the last syllable is pressed right to your upper lip, the ghosting of his mouth like sweet temptation against yours, “and all I could think about since the last time was that we shouldn't have stopped, because now you're all that's ever on my mind and you're never even around to rectify that,” he leans in closer, on hand bracing beside you on the bed while you try to keep even a hairs distance from falling into his trap because once you slipped up and found yourself caught you knew you wouldn't even try to escape. “Just one kiss, please,” 

“Just one-” You couldn't even get the words out before he was on you, pressing his mouth to yours, seeking to consume you. Your hands shot out, pulling on his shirt locking him in place as he fell on top of you hardly even trying to keep his distance but you wouldn't even give him that once his lips were on yours. The two of you worked so well together, every little touch was sending sparks up and down your body. You opened your legs instinctively for him, wanted him to fit against you, slot himself in your personal space even if it was only for the length of one kiss. But that wasn't what it was, this wasn't the simple peck but a feast of pent-up want and need reduced to a single moment as if you hadn't indulged before. 

He was hot and hard, grinding against you until you were gasping into his mouth, sloppy kisses now working down your throat as he nipped at your skin, teeth looking to find every sensitive spot you had. He wanted to devour you even if he shouldn't, and you were no better. It didn't matter if you said just one kiss, the two of you knew what it meant, you had said it before and you had him on the verge of finishing untouched in his jeans but he would finish this time, he wanted to reach that spot with you. 

And you wanted it too, not caring about your previous intentions as soon as he was pressed so close to you. He reached his hand down between you two, vibrator on as he pressed it right against your clothed clit, the vibration muffled with all the fabric and yet you gasped, hips bucking up to meet the sensation. “Oh,” his open-mouthed kisses warm against the skin on your throat, your hands sliding up to his hair, twisting your fingers in the strands. He pulls away for only a second, hands falling to the waistband of your pants, needing to get them off of you. “We can't-” 

“Please- I just wanna see how wet you are for me,” he begs, forehead pressed to yours feeling your nod more than seeing it. He pulls your pants clean off, leaving you in the nearly transparent white panties you have on. Yeonjun groans at the outline of you clear as day as the fabric clings to you. He doesn't hesitate to press the vibrator right back over your clit. You try to snap your thighs closed, the one less layer making it so much harder to not react. 

His free hand comes out to trace over your cunt, fingers circling up and down as you throw your head back, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Now look at that,” he runs one finger between the fabric of your panties and your aching center, the digit coming away slick as he lifts it to his mouth to taste, your brows scrunching together as you try to hold back your whine. It's a drawn-out moan that comes from him, “You taste as good as you look,” he presses the vibrator harder on your clit, “let me fuck you- please-” 

“We shouldn't-” you try but it's caught in your throat when he clicks up the vibration, free hand back to running up and down the outside of your panties. 

“Please,” he whispers like it's ripping him apart, not being able to sink into you when you look this good. He presses his pelvis closer to you, his bulge perfect for your grinding hips to try and find a steady pace on. “Please,” he lets his hips drag along with the word, your lip caught between your teeth as you try not to cry out but it's impossible to deny him, especially when he's promising to not put it in, and you know if you say no he will stop and if you say yes you wouldn't stop him even if he did try to do more. And all you wanted was more. 

You nod, needing more of him, needing to feel something more if anything at all. He pushes his hand into his pants, tugging out his cock, veiny and slick with bubbling precum, wrist working to give it a few loose drags. You're whimpering at the sight, wishing to say to hell with not having him just fuck you into the mattress. And you almost do say ‘fuck it’ the second he presses his tip right to your covered entrance, the slick of your panties only causing him to slip, the length of him rubbing over you. 

“I won't- I won't,” he's screwing his eyes closed, shaking his head as he convinces himself more than he's telling you. Just brushing against you, feeling the vibration hitting right under his tip as he grinds down on you makes it so much worse. Every sound he's making is desperate and whiny, echoing in the room as he presses his free hand into the mattress, keeping you pressed down and in the circle of his arm. He can't control the way his hips move, just chasing the high of wanting to be in you and the feel of you so close and yet so far. 

He tries to press his tip back in, properly fucking into your panties even if there is little give before he's back to slipping and grinding back down on your cunt, clicking up the vibrator until you can feel it sending sparks all over your body, the ache in your belly turning into a blinding light before you tremble, tugging him closer to you as much as you can get. “I'm- I'm cu-” It's only a moment before your orgasm crashes into you, your body trying to pull away from the vibration and yet being stuck in place with the weight of Yeonjun over you.

And he doesn't stop or pull away, whimpering as he jerks, cock twitching right before he's spilling ropes of white all over your stomach, t-shirt a mess of it. It's not until he pulls away the vibrator, clicking it off, that he's stopped the slow dribble of cum from shooting out. 

Both of you are breathing hard, Yeonjun's face now pressing into your neck to try and hide, hips still moving, languid as he softens. “Never again,” you try to say, but both of you know the truth, especially when you're running your fingers through the hair at his sweaty temple. 

“Of course, never again,” he mutters but he's leaning right back in to kiss you. 

taglist for those who asked lol @beomiracles @beombunni and im tagging the wonderful @thetxtdevil bc she is the one who came up with this idea and gifted it to me ily mae thank you so bad-

[semisasseater]

I TOLD YOU LIKE A MILLON TIMES ─ se-mi

⤷ With you everything will be alright

| pairing : gf!se-mi x fem!reader | genre : angst if u squint, comfort, romance, fluff | warnings : mentions of past abuse (emotional & physical), trauma recovery, soft intimacy, themes of healing | summary : after escaping an abusive relationship, y/n struggles to accept love and care. Se-mi, her new girlfriend, is endlessly patient and gentle— y/n finally learns what love is supposed to feel like. | wc : 612 | authors note : before some of you horny hoes are like “why didn’t you add the smut🤓” well you horny whores it’s because i also got a smut request that honestly can be a part 2 of this cause i wanna edge yall! and because im running out of fic ideas. idk im very sorry ive been a sad bitch. not proofread

if you enjoyed likes or reblogs would be amazing! feedback is appreciated also requests are open!!

You never thought you’d feel safe in someone’s arms again.

After what your last relationship put you through—the bruises, the fear, the exhaustion of doing everything alone—you didn’t think love could be gentle. That it could be kind. That it could be anything other than survival.

Then Se-mi came along.

She was never loud in the way she loved you. She didn’t demand things from you, didn’t make you feel like you owed her something just for existing. Her love showed itself in soft gestures, in quiet moments, in ways that made you realize just how much you had gone without.

Like tonight.

You sat on the edge of the bed, fresh from the shower, the scent of your shampoo still lingering in the air. A towel draped over your shoulders as you absentmindedly ran your fingers through your damp hair, feeling the knots you didn’t have the energy to deal with.

Before you could sigh in frustration, Se-mi was there.

“Let me,” she murmured, taking the brush from your nightstand. She climbed onto the bed behind you, her legs bracketing yours as she gently gathered your hair. The first stroke was careful, deliberate. No tugging, no impatience—just the slow, rhythmic motion of the bristles smoothing through your hair.

You closed your eyes, leaning into the sensation. No one had ever done this for you before.

“You okay?” she asked, her voice quiet.

You nodded. “Yeah… just not used to this.”

Se-mi hummed in understanding, continuing her slow work. “You should be,” she said simply. “You deserve this.”

Your chest ached at her words, at how easily she said them. Like it wasn’t even a question.

After finishing, she set the brush aside and kissed the back of your shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you dressed.”

You let her help you into your clothes—something that once would have made you feel weak but now only made you feel cherished. She smoothed your shirt down over your skin, adjusting the hem before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

When you were with your ex, you had to be strong because no one else would be. But with Se-mi, you could just… be.

She held your hand when you went out together, never pulling, never leading—just grounding you. She paid for things without hesitation, not to control you, but because she wanted to. And when you were at a party and your chest started to tighten from the noise, she didn’t ask questions.

“Do you wanna leave?” she always whispered, her fingers warm against yours.

And no matter what, no matter where you were, if you nodded, she would take your hand and walk you out the door like it was the easiest decision in the world.

Because with Se-mi, it always was.

Love wasn’t supposed to be something you survived. It was supposed to be something that held you, that made you feel safe.

And for the first time in your life, you truly believed that.

Because Se-mi loved you in all the ways you had been denied.

And she always would.

@semisasseater

[cyberstrm]

-> sweet and scarred

dr greg house x gn!reader

cws: mentions of surgery, healed surgical scars, house being house, slightly spicy making out

a/n: mouse bites

you watched greg get changed while you sat in his giant double bed. you had just got back from your seventh date, and things were going very well. he was funny, kind, with a hint of angst which definitely intrigued you. you'd met through your friend Allison, who had invited you to a charity drive for the hospital she worked at, and met greg. although she had warned against involving yourself with him, you couldn't help it, and the next thing you knew, you were going on dates with your friends boss and slowly but surely, falling for him.

"you alright?" greg's voice cut through the silence, now in a tshirt and joggers. he limped to the edge of the bed, but didn't sit down.

"y-yeah, sorry. just lost in thought." you replied, smiling. you started taking your jacket off, slightly nervous. "thanks for letting me stay the night"

"what kind of gentleman would i be if i let you walk home in the rain?" he asked rhetorically. "here, you can sleep in this"

he chucked an oversized grey tshirt at you.

"thank you," you smiled.

"i'll be on the couch," greg mumbled, "goodn-"

"stay," you said quickly, unsure where your confidence had come from. "i-if that's okay," you felt your cheeks grow hot.

"sure" he replied, wondering round to the other side of the bed and lying down. "you can get changed, i promise i won't look," he shut his eyes with a comical and exaggerated squeeze.

you chuckled, and quickly stripped and slid into the tshirt. you chucked your clothes to the floor, making a mental reminder to not forget them tomorrow. as you changed, you ran a hand over your stomach, feeling the scar tissue under your palm.

truthfully, the reason you had attended the charity drive for the hospital with allison was because two years ago that hospital saved your life. the emergency surgery you required had left you with a large abdominal scar. you felt quite neutral about it, but when it came to dating and intimacy, it was a source of anxiety.

you laid on your side, looking at greg, who still had his eyes shut.

"you can open them now" you giggled. greg blinked his eyes open, and turned in bed to face you. his eyes scanned you, lingering at your bare legs.

"suits you," he mumbled, not taking his eyes off you.

you were both silent for a few moments, before greg moved his hand and gently put it on your waist. his thumb stroked your skin affectionately, making your stomach flutter. his hand wondered, first to your ass, then back up to your hips, waist, lower stomach. as he inched towards the scar, you flinched.

"don't," you muttered, grabbing his hand.

greg's eyes narrowed, and you saw a flicker of his diagnostic curiosity in his steely eyes.

"why" he asked, but his hand didn't move or continue moving upwards. you could tell he wasn't asking 'why' because he wanted to overstep your boundaries, or was angry that you hadn't let him explore, it was more that he was just incredibly nosey.

"because i said so," you laughed, moving his hand and placing it gently back to your waist.

greg sighed. "i know you had surgery"

"what?" you replied, suddenly feeling quite exposed. "how-"

"i searched your medical records," you replied bluntly.

"wh- you what? jesus, that's such an invasion of my privacy!" you exclaimed, sitting up. you felt anger burning in your chest. maybe allison was right, maybe you shouldn't have got involved.

"i'm sorry, force of habit" he said casually, still lying down. when you didn't reply, he sighed again. "but you're right. it was an invasion of your privacy. i'm sorry."

you took a deep breath. at least he already knew, which saved you the effort of explaining. besides, allison had warned you, and it's not like your medical records were that interesting besides your surgery.

"it's okay. just...ask next time. don't go digging around."

you lay back down, facing him.

"you don't have to hide it," he said, looking into your eyes.

"hide what?"

he rolled his eyes. "your scar,"

you blushed, both from not getting what he meant and the idea of him not caring was both incredibly sexy and incredibly nerve wracking. you didn't say anything.

"i'll show you mine if you show me yours." he smirked. you thought for a moment, and nodded.

you both sat up, and he rolled up his joggers on his left leg. on his thigh was a shallow pit, like part of it had been scooped out. it was a slightly different shade that the rest of his skin. you could see the stitch scars, little dots circling the wound.

"wow..." you mumbled to yourself.

"you definitely can't beat me in the 'ugly scar' competition." he teased.

"it's not ugly, greg. it's a scar. can i..?" you nodded towards it, moving your hand towards his leg.

he thought for a moment. "be...be gentle." he said quietly. you'd never seen anyone look so vulnerable.

you caressed it gently, running your fingertips along the scar. you could hear him breathing shakily, and pulled away.

"thank you, for showing me." you whispered. you laid back down and leant on your elbow, and greg followed, looking slightly frazzled.

"give me your hand," you asked, and he did. you gently lead it up your shirt, and onto your stomach, where the scar was. you removed your hand and let him roam freely. he slowly lifted your shirt, and you were left unable to hide anything.

he leant down and kissed your scar, repeatedly. up and down the raised flesh, softly and with purpose. he kissed your entire stomach, down to your hips, and back up to the scar. you felt breathless, and if you weren't blushing hard before, you definitely were now.

"so beautiful," he mumbled to himself between kissing your skin.

he stopped and raised his head, before kissing your lips. he wasn't rough but he certainly wasn't gentle. he was hungry for your lips. before you knew it, you were straddling him, kissing him heatedly.

his hands gripped your hips, thumbs circling your skin gently. he occasionally stroked your scar, letting you get used to his touch.

you pulled away, breathless.

"w-we should probably get some sleep." you panted, looking at his bedside clock that read '1:56 am'.

he lightly grabbed your neck and pulled you in for one last kiss, before you hopped off and laid down.

"night, greg,"

"g'night."

[truelotus]

Hello, I really liked it💜💜

I don't mind if you ask, My beloved Aizen

It was a deal that Aizen had to defeat Yhwach. And they bring her to him. He makes her pregnant and carries his child.

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧

Character: Sosuke Aizen

Warning : Vaginal Sex, female reader, pregnancy, unprotected sex, missionary, dominant aizen, submissive reader, dirty talking + more

The head captain, Shunsui Kyoraku. Had come down to the muken prison. To make a deal with one of the most notorious criminal.

The soul society was at an unimaginable loss right now, they were going to need help. He had no shame coming to this man for help, he was more ashamed of the deal he was about to make with this man.

“I’m not asking for you to fight for the soul society, but.. if you did. I’m willing to bring her to you.”

This caught Aizen’s attention, he wasn’t shocked to learn that you were still alive, but the fact that he could see you once again.. it brought him to pure joy.

Sosuke Aizen had little regrets, but his biggest regret would have to be getting himself sealed away to muken prison. Sealed far away from you.. he thought about the actions he did but never once felt guilty about anything. What he really did feel guilty about was leaving you out there alone.

Maybe it was a selfish thought of his but, he wished that you too, could be sealed away with him.

“I see.”

Aizen stepped forward, “Though I cannot say I am fond of your use of her in this manner. The opportunity to see her once more, leaves me with little room to refuse.”

Shunsui chuckled at his words, “I’ll go fetch her for you then.”

You were in the middle of healing somebody with your kaidō skills, you are very skilled with kaidō so instead of fighting you were healing everyone you saw was injured.

Just then, you could hear footsteps approaching behind you. You quickly turned your head, afraid that it would be an enemy.

“C-Captain Kyoraku!” You were surprised to see him here, not fighting at the front lines.

“Ah, hello my dear. It seems that you are really putting yourself to work.” He said as he watched you heal the wounds of the person.

“Yes! I’m doing the best I can to keep everyone alive.” Even though all your friends and comrades were all fighting, leading themselves to death or getting hurt by the quincies, you still had a smile on your face.

Because no matter what happened to them, you would be able to heal them and bring them back to their feet. That is how much of a talent you have with kaido, you were trained by Unohana after all, it is no surprise how well of a healer you are.

“I thank you Y/N, unfortunately I’m going have to stop you. There’s someone I want you to meet.” For some reason, you felt that it wasn’t going to be good.

You swallowed the lump in your throat while stopping your kido. “If it is who I think it is, then I am not coming with you.” You picked up the now healed person, carrying their body somewhere where they’d be safe until they woke up.

“I’m afraid that you have no choice Y/N, I made a deal with him.”

You could feel your heart drop to your toes, a deal? what kind of deal?

“What kind of deal did you make with that man..” You balled your fists up, nails digging into the skin of your palm. Afraid of what he might say next.

“That if I bring you to him, he’ll do his part on helping the soul society, and bring down Yhwach.”

The head captain was just going to throw you at him? While knowing your traumatic experience with him?

You once loved that man, but now with the help of Byakuya Kuchiki, head of the Kuchiki clan. You were slowly moving on. And even Byakuya was beginning to move on from his past lover..

You’d restart your whole process if you saw Sosuke again, you’d hurt Byakuya too..

“I refuse.”

“You leave me with no choice!” Suddenly Shunsui disappeared in front of you, but then he appeared behind you. He picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder.

“Let! kick go! punch of! kick me!” You kicked and punched him while he carried you over his shoulder, eventually you stopped when accepting your faith, you were now mentally preparing yourself to see him again.

Sooner or later, Shunsui carefully and gently placed you on the ground.

You could feel him.

He wasn’t touching you.

But you could feel his eyes staring you down..

You didn’t dare to look up at him, you looked down at your feet, fiddling with your fingers. You can’t look at him again, you’d be under his spell once again if you did.

“You hold your head quite low, my dear. Why not raise it so I can gaze upon that beautiful face I so dearly miss?” His tone was smooth and calm, his voice was as charming as ever.

Your body moved on its own, you tried so hard to stop yourself but you just couldn’t resist.

Slowly, you raised your head up, meeting his gaze. Your hands were now to your chest, your hands were balled up together.

“Sosuke..” You muttered out, you knew everything was over for you when you made eye contact with him. You were once again wrapped around his finger.

“Now that I’ve seen you.. I can be at ease now. Do not fret my dear, I’ll save your precious seireitei.”

You and Sosuke had just gotten your new home in the world of the living, you will be staying with him here so keep him tamed. It was really all thanks to Kisuke Urahara.

He developed a device that could restrain half of his power, but for it to fully work, Sosuke needed to live in the world of the living. So, central 46 agreed that he could finish his sentence there but someone needed to keep watch on him, Shunsui Kyoraku spoke out and suggested that it should be you.

So here you are, in a nice cozy home. With Sosuke Aizen.

It’s been so long since the last time the two of you were alone together, and knowing Sosuke.. he was going to take advantage of the opportunity. The two of you were in the bedroom, unpacking.

“Isn’t this place lovely Sosuk-” He had come up behind you, interrupting your sentence. You could feel something hard rubbing against your behind.

“It’s been a while since I’ve last slept with you, you don’t know how much I’ve missed you.” You could feel him leaving kisses around your neck, you could feel his hand slipping under your shirt, reaching to your breast.

“You’re too much sometimes Sosuke..” You were just about to push him off until he pushed you onto the bed.

Oh wow he was really going for it hard

You saw as he undressed himself, throwing his clothes on the ground. When he saw you still fully dressed, he took matters into his own hands and began to rip off your clothes. This man was starving for you.

It all happened so fast, you didn’t stop him from undressing you because you were too busy at starring at his hard cock, you could see it twitch when he removed your panties.

He climbed onto the bed, he was hovering over your body. You looked beautiful under him, he loved and missed seeing your beautiful face all flushed up under him.

Right now, he wanted nothing more than painting your walls white with his cum, he doesn’t know what got to him but he had the sudden urge to fill your pussy to the max with his cum, to make sure that you will carry his child. He wanted to see you pregnant with his child.

“I want to see that pretty little cunt filled with my cum, I’d love for you to carry my child.” Without any warnings, sosuke slid his hard shaft right into your glistening cunt.

Your walls sucked him in, his eyes were focused on yours the whole time when he began to push his cock in and out of your cunt.

But he couldn’t help by looking at your bouncing breasts, they went up and down with each thrust he did. He dug his nails deep into the skin of your hips, it was almost too much for him.

Oh how he missed you..

He was pounding your walls soo good, you could see him biting his lip to resist himself from moaning.

But he couldn’t hold himself back, you could hear him grunting as he pounded himself faster into you.

He was hitting your good spot with each thrust, he lowered his face to meet with yours, forehands touching. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pushing him so he could be further into your cunt.

He smashed his lips against yours, it was a sloppy kiss but it felt incredible still. You missed him and he missed you. You parted your lips to let out your moans, so he could hear of how much of a good job he was doing.

His tongue slithered into your mouth, tasting you. The both of you moaned into each other’s mouths.

Your back arched at how good his cock was feeling you up, your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

It wouldn’t take long for him to finish inside of you, he then imagined your pussy being so filled with his cum that it spilt out of your pussy.

And that little scenario set him off, he came inside of you, you could feel his warm sees filling you up just nicely.

He stayed like that for a few seconds, but he didn’t remove his cock from you..Instead he continued thrusting into you, your walls were filled with his cum yet he continued to fuck your pussy.

The cum swirled around your walls with each thrust he made, he was going to make sure that you ended up pregnant. So he continued to fuck your cum filled pussy.

He was going to fuck your pussy until he simply couldn’t cum anymore for the night, you were going to milk him dry.

It was certainly going to become a long night..

You were putting breakfast on Sosuke’s plate and onto yours, you made sure you added extra on yours.

You were now eating for two, you needed to give your child as much nutrients as possible so they could become a healthy and strong baby.

Just then you could hear Sosuke sneaking up behind you, hugging your figure gently. His hands rested on your now round belly.

He didn’t think you could look even more beautiful, but when he noticed your stomach growing from carrying his child, he appreciated your beauty even more. Your beauty really was like a gift from the gods.

“How is he holding up?” He said as he rested his chin on top of your head.

“He seems to be doing just fine, I realized that he kicks more whenever he hears your voice.” Sosuke hummed as he then felt a kick from your stomach.

“You know you really shouldn’t be overdoing things, you need to rest more. Leave everything to me will you?” He said as he removed himself from you, dragging you away from the food so you could sit down and he could serve you breakfast.

“I know I know.. But I can’t help it!”

He chucked and moved your hair from your forehead, leaving a little kiss on it.

Maybe this is what he longed for, to have a family. The idea of being a father never interested him but when he had that sudden urge that one night, he couldn’t help but smile at the thought of having a family with you.

“Please, Let this husband of yours take care of you and the baby.”

Hm.

Yeah this is definitely where he wants to be at, he wanted nothing more than this now.

He can’t wait for the day he sees his child in your arms.

[these-detestable-hands]

It's been a bit since I've interacted with octopath so my stuff on these ships may be a little rusty but I'll argue for them anyway.

Castitio (Castti x Partitio)

Before the game even came out, I thought they'd be a silly couple. Lady who doesn't remember and guy bursting at the seems with kindness. I think they're got a neat dynamic, with Castti teasing him a bit but they get along and are friends. Some post canon hcs I have are that Partitio would help Castti set up an organization that produces medicine and teaches about it cause he loves her and he's got the funding anyway. Also I do think being exposed to the poison rain twice did stuff to Castti so I like to hc she's disabled post canon, being a wheelchair user due to muscle weakness, having very little lung capacity and CPTSD. Also not a disability but she has eczema-like purple splotches on her body. Sorry I needed an excuse to quickly mention my disabled Castti headcanons. While they're engaged, Partitio and Floyd work on completely renovating a house to accommodate all of Castti's needs, so like low counters she can reach while on her wheelchair, only one floor, wide doorways, blackout curtains so she can sleep during the day, etc. Castti keeps insisting that she doesn't need that much help and that she's navigating normal houses just fine but then she'd see all the accommodations in their new house and bawl for hours. She'd work less and take it easy post canon. Listen I just think they'd be a really cute couple. Castti patches up your broken arm then her husband comes in and starts cracking jokes and talking about affordable public transportation. I feel like I'm also forgetting a lot of stuff but oh well. I've got a few fics for them posted on ao3, account name: BigOrangeOnion

Ophikari (Ophilia x Hikari) (I also call them The Radiance (hollow knight reference and it makes sense for an au))

OKAY SO this ship started out as an au when the ot1 travelers were added to ot2 for that update last year. Basically, post canon, Hikari visits the arena whenever he's in Montwise. This time, he goes and there's some omega powerful warriors fighting ruthlessly and with no concern for themselves. He realizes it's because they've got some kinda of curse, similar to him with the shadow (I THINK that's what it was called).

So Hikari starts working on figuring out how to free them because their current existence seems miserable. The first he manages to free is Ophilia, by using light magic near her. The light magic makes her briefly remember who she was but it's enough for her to snap out of the mind control that she's been put under. She talks to Hikari and explains that her and her friends were mind controlled by a very weak but not quite dead Galdera, in attempts to conquer and gain more power so he could heal himself faster. So the two of them start working on freeing the other travelers together.

Along the way, they ofc fall in love. I don't remember an awful lot about them unfortunately but I implore anyone reading this to write stuff for them :]

Here's a little drawing I did of them together. I'd include Castitio drawings if I had any but I am not big on drawing ship art unfortunately.

H'aanit x Cyrus x Castti (in a QPR!!! :3)

So this is probably the one I've explored the least purely because I never really shared it with anyone. I keep it to myself because of the amount of hyper specific and sad headcanons. But basically it was an au where I'd just mix and match travelers n stuff. Like just putting different travelers in different continents with weird team compositions cause I'm a big fan of aus and crossovers.

One of the ones I liked the most is where Castti leaves Solistia by herself to explore post canon because she's not very close with the other travelers and self isolates a little. This au starts out kinda sad cause of the focus on my hcs for various characters' mental illnesses. H'aanit is initially traveling alone but Castti joins her and they're a relatively quiet but very effective and productive duo. Later, Cyrus, Olberic, Primrose and Ophilia join. They all have their problems to work through and get through them together.

Castti has to deal with self worth and realizing that she's more than just the team healer.

H'aanit has always had anxiety around losing Z'aanta, which is really bad throughout the entire story so Castti often ends up calming her down during panic attacks and they get really close because of the mutual trust there.

Idk exactly how to describe Cyrus' problems but he's really jumpy and nervous and a little bit angry all the time because of being accused of, y' know, sleeping with a student. Yeah no I never understood why Cyrus wasn't that angry about it, even when I first played the game at age 10.

I think Cyrus is just dealing with the new found rage he constantly has. He had anger management issues as a kid but worked through them and they're just now coming back cause he's been thrown out of his home and people he used to be friends with think the worst of him and he's got no one but this new friend group he hardly knows. You get it.

The story is the three of them (and Olberic, Ophilia and Prim, but this post is about ships so I'll talk about them another time) as they deal with their mental health issues. Through helping each other with these very personal problems, they become very close and eventually decide to be in a qpr together. I think they'd just live relatively quiet lives in S'warkii cause Cyrus is too upset to return to Atlasdam and Castti isn't too keen on going back to Solistia after falling head over heels in love with two people in Osterra.

I don't remember way too much for this au unfortunately. I think they should all cuddle and finally get a good night's sleep for once cause no way a single one of those bitches sleeps well with the crap they see and have experienced.

Sorry I wrote so much. Here is a little drawing based on an Olberic chapter 2 travel banter and the most important H'aanit fact.

I miss octopath yapping with people so uh yknow what! We’re gonna play a game!!

Explain in the notes what y’all’s favorite ships are and why you like them!!!

Only rules are

1) do not explain why everyone should think your ship is canon, as that is not the point of this post 2) do not put any other ships down bc that is also not the point of this post 3) ALL games are included (yes including cotc) 4) ANY SHIPS ARE ALLOWED!!! GO NUTS!!!!

[bunji-enthusiast]

(𝐃𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲) 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐈𝐭

Characters [Kissy Missy, Huggy Wuggy, Doey The Doughman]

Note || request: idk if you're taking requests but can you possibly do small fic of kissy, huggy, and doey getting affection for the first time by y/n / the player? Platonic head kisses, hugs, that sort of thing.

Why, yes my good fellow fan. I actually loved this, omfg.

— Doey The Doughman

As an ex-employee of Playtime Co., you couldn’t shake the weight of your past. The haunting memories of the factory lingered in the back of your mind, yet there was something much deeper pressing at your heart. You had seen so much suffering over the years, and now, among the few survivors in this grim new world, you couldn't help but notice the vulnerable ones. Doey, especially.

The plump dough creature had been a beacon of hope for so many, but behind that friendly, playful demeanor, you recognized a burden. He held his group together, sacrificed his time, energy, and emotional well-being for those under his care in The Safe Haven. Even when it wasn’t necessary, he put on a brave face, especially with the overwhelming responsibility of leadership. You could see it in his eyes, that exhaustion. You suspected that he had once been a child under that appearance, his innocence hidden beneath layers of experience far beyond what a creature like him should bear.

For someone like Doey, affection was something foreign, something he rarely got, especially in such a harsh environment. Leadership had made him strong, but at the cost of his own peace. That was something only an empathetic soul like you could truly understand. You knew, deep down, that he needed care and compassion as much as anyone else. And though it was strictly platonic, affection might be the very thing that could allow him to heal — to feel like something more than the leader of a group of survivors.

One evening, after a long day of coordinating plans, you approached Doey in the quiet of the Safe Haven. He was sitting on a makeshift bench near the fire, his long, colorful arms resting at his sides, and his eyes fixed on the dim glow. His yellow, orange, and red dough belly pattern of three bendy arms seemed to ripple with the firelight.

You could see that he was tired, maybe even a little lonely, his mouth set in a soft frown. Without thinking, you moved closer, and a gentle but firm hand rested on his shoulder. He blinked, startled at first, before his eyes softened.

"Doey," you began softly, your voice uncharacteristically tender. "You’ve done so much for everyone. But you’ve been carrying this weight alone for too long."

He didn’t respond immediately, his hollow eyes looking at you through the holes in his doughy face. But there was a subtle shift, a small recognition that the burden he carried wasn’t unnoticed. You could feel the tension in him as if he was silently giving himself permission to let down his guard, just for a moment.

You kneeled beside him, reaching up to gently pat his head, careful not to be too forceful. The blue clay of his doughy scalp was soft, cool to the touch. He blinked again, this time with a hint of surprise, but you continued, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head, a silent promise of care. The warmth you felt in the moment was something you hadn’t realized you needed, and perhaps, neither had he.

As you leaned back, Doey’s long orange arm slowly lifted, hesitating before it rested on your shoulder in return. You could tell he was processing the moment, unsure of how to respond, but you knew it wasn’t the kind of affection he was used to. He was a leader, after all — strong, unyielding, and often alone in his role.

But here, in the dimly lit corner of The Safe Haven, there was a quiet kind of peace. You could see the tension in his body gradually melt away. He needed this. He deserved this. After all, even the strongest of leaders were human, even if their form was a strange, colorful dough creature.

"Thank you," you murmured. "You don't have to carry it all on your own, Doey. We're all in this together."

For a moment, Doey said nothing, but the subtle shift in his expression spoke volumes. His holes, the makeshift eyes, softened as if a weight had lifted. And then, in a rare and tender gesture, he leaned toward you, wrapping his long yellow arm around your shoulder in a gentle embrace.

The warmth of his body, though made of dough, felt oddly reassuring. The hug wasn't tight or demanding, but it was everything he needed — a small, quiet moment of affection and support. It wasn’t about leadership, or strength, or the mission. It was simply about being there for each other.

You could feel his breath — or perhaps it was the absence of it — as he pulled away just slightly, his eyes meeting yours. "You're right," he finally said in his soft, humble voice. "I... I haven't been good at asking for help."

You smiled, giving him a reassuring pat on the back. “You don’t have to ask. Sometimes, it’s okay to just let others help you."

As the fire crackled in the background, you stayed close by Doey’s side, offering him the rarest of gifts — a moment of respite, of care. Just for tonight, he didn’t need to be a leader, a beacon of hope, or the one who carried the weight of so many. He could simply be Doey — the dough creature who deserved love, affection, and the safety of knowing someone had his back.

And for you, it was a reminder that even in the darkest of places, sometimes the best thing we can offer one another is warmth, care, and affection — the simple things that make us human, or in Doey’s case, something more than just an animated being. Something deserving of a gentle hug and a soft kiss on the head.

— Huggy Wuggy

It had been a long time since you had last seen Huggy Wuggy. The factory, now eerie and abandoned, had its haunting air, but there was something... different about it now. The silence that permeated the air had always felt oppressive, but as you ventured deeper, a strange sense of sadness washed over you.

The towering blue creature loomed before you in the dimly lit corridor. Huggy Wuggy stood there, as if waiting. His large black eyes stared at you, reflecting the remnants of something broken, something lost. His tall, slender frame seemed so out of place in the sterile halls of the factory, but it wasn’t his presence that made you pause—it was the unmistakable loneliness that seemed to emanate from him.

The thought had crossed your mind many times, especially after the encounters you had witnessed between him and others in this factory. Huggy Wuggy had been part of a long-lost project, a toy designed to spread love and affection, but something had gone horribly wrong. The violence he once displayed, the frenzy he brought upon anyone unlucky enough to cross his path, wasn’t his doing. It was the Prototype, manipulating him, turning his purpose of affection into something much darker.

You had made a decision—one that surprised even yourself.

The truce, strange as it was, had to mean something. The creature before you had been twisted by forces far beyond his control, but there was still a trace of the original Huggy inside. You didn’t want him to be just another victim of whatever twisted fate had led him down this path.

“Hey, Huggy,” you spoke softly, your voice breaking the quiet tension of the room. Huggy’s head tilted slightly, as if trying to understand what you were doing here.

You took a cautious step forward, your heart racing slightly. You had no idea how he would react. He had been hostile before—ferocious, even. But this time felt different. There was a hesitation in his movements, a kind of vulnerability that hadn’t been there before. Perhaps, after everything that had transpired, Huggy had found the small, flickering ember of his former self.

You slowly raised your hand, offering him an open gesture—an invitation. Huggy’s large yellow hands twitched, the velcro straps on his palms shifting as he examined your hand cautiously. His face, though monstrous and alien, held a certain curiosity now, as if unsure whether to accept or reject the kindness you were offering.

Gently, you stepped closer, placing your hand on his outstretched arm. It felt surprisingly warm, almost organic. Huggy froze, and you could feel his body tense as if ready to pull away. But you didn’t back down.

In a move that could have been considered a gesture of trust, you leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on the top of his head. It was a simple act—one that might have seemed odd to anyone else, but it was something that felt right in that moment. Huggy, the once terrifying creature, stood still, unsure of how to process the affection.

After a long pause, something shifted within him. He let out a low hum, almost as if responding to the touch. His large black eyes blinked slowly, as if digesting the sensation, and for a brief second, it felt as if time had stopped. The hostility that had once radiated from him seemed to fade, replaced by something almost... grateful.

You pulled back slightly, watching as Huggy lowered his head, almost as if in acknowledgment. It wasn’t much—just a small sign that the creature, so often feared and misunderstood, had been longing for the kind of kindness he had been created to offer.

Huggy’s response wasn’t immediate, but it wasn’t hostile either. Instead, he took a step closer, his large frame towering over you. He didn’t try to grab you or threaten you. He simply knelt down, lowering himself to your level. And then, with a gentle motion that seemed so foreign to his nature, he wrapped his long arms around you in a hug. It was awkward, almost clumsy, as if he wasn’t entirely sure how to hold you without causing harm. But it was there—a gentle, almost tender embrace.

You held on for a moment, a quiet smile creeping onto your face. This—this was what Huggy had been meant for. Not to be a monster, but to offer comfort, to be the source of warmth and affection he had been designed to be before everything had gone wrong.

It felt like a small victory. The kind of victory that didn’t come from defeating an enemy, but from giving someone, or something, the chance to be seen as more than what they had become.

Huggy’s large head nuzzled gently against your shoulder. Despite everything that had happened in this twisted factory, in this place of nightmares, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace.

“Thank you, Huggy,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him. “You didn’t deserve any of this.”

For a brief moment, the factory seemed less ominous, less dangerous. Huggy, the creature who had once been a source of terror, now simply wanted to be understood. And for once, in this forsaken place, you understood him.

You stepped back from the hug, your hands resting on his shoulders as you gave him a reassuring smile. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Maybe, just maybe, Huggy Wuggy could find his way back to the love he was once meant to give.

As you turned to leave, you glanced back one last time at the towering blue creature, now seemingly at peace, standing alone in the quiet, broken factory. The path ahead of you was uncertain, but for the first time in what felt like forever, you knew there was a chance for redemption—even for Huggy Wuggy.

And in the end, that was all that mattered.

— Kissy Missy

The factory loomed around you like an old, haunted memory, every creak and groan a whisper of its long, forgotten past. The shadows seemed to stretch for miles, the dim flicker of lights casting eerie silhouettes against the walls. But amidst this endless labyrinth, there was something — or rather, someone — you couldn’t shake from your mind.

Kissy Missy.

When you first encountered her, she had been a tragic figure, caught in the aftermath of violence and destruction. She had once been part of something grand, a cheerful toy meant to bring joy. Yet, years of abandonment, trauma, and violence had altered her. Despite her kindness, there was a depth of sadness within her. She had seen horrors that no one should have to bear, and now, she wandered the empty halls, looking for solace in the rubble.

You had grown fond of her over time, not just as a comrade in this strange and dangerous world but as a friend. And you knew, perhaps more than anyone, that even the toughest souls needed affection sometimes.

That night, as you walked through the cold, empty corridors of the factory, your thoughts turned back to her. Kissy Missy was injured. You could see the physical toll the factory had taken on her, the scars on her body from an unknown attacker, and the burns marking her face. But there was something else, something you could sense. Her spirit, too, had been wounded, battered by years of loneliness and violence.

You stopped in front of her quarters, the heavy door creaking as you pushed it open. She was there, slumped against the far wall, her large, dark eyes tired but still holding a glimmer of something — something hopeful, something good.

She didn’t notice you at first, her gaze distant. But you didn’t need to say anything. She’d always understood. Slowly, you moved toward her, kneeling down to her level. For a moment, you simply gazed at her, taking in her delicate features and the softness that still remained beneath the layers of pain and exhaustion.

“Kissy…” you said gently, your voice carrying the weight of unsaid things. She turned toward you slowly, her gaze meeting yours with a quiet recognition. She didn’t smile, but there was a flicker of relief in her eyes — she had been waiting, perhaps without even knowing it, for this moment.

Without thinking, you reached out, your hand softly resting on her shoulder. The warmth of your touch was met with a long, almost imperceptible sigh from her. It was as though she had been holding her breath for too long, and finally, someone had come to release her from the tension of it all.

You didn’t speak, not just yet. Instead, you simply gave her a gentle squeeze, a comforting touch that she had long since forgotten. Her eyelids fluttered, and she leaned into it, just slightly, her head dipping to rest against your hand.

The gesture was so simple, yet in it was everything. It was the kindness she hadn’t known in years, the warmth she had been starved of, the affection she so desperately needed but never dared to ask for.

Without a word, you stood up and moved behind her, pressing your palm against the back of her head, urging her forward into a soft embrace. You could feel the tension in her body, the slight tremble as she tried to stay strong, but she gave in. She allowed herself to be held for a moment, to be taken out of the nightmare of the factory, even if just for a brief while.

It was quiet — just the two of you in that forgotten place. You could hear the faint hum of the factory’s systems, the distant echoes of machinery, but none of that mattered. What mattered was that, for once, Kissy Missy wasn’t alone.

As you stood there, holding her, your mind wandered to all the things she had gone through. The years of isolation. The horror of the massacre. The unrelenting loneliness. It was no wonder she had become the way she was — strong, silent, fierce in her resolve. But beneath all of that, there was a heart that longed for connection, for love, for someone to show her that she still mattered.

You kissed the top of her head gently, a small gesture of affection, your lips brushing the soft, pink fur of her hair. It wasn’t romantic; it was something deeper, something more human. It was a promise — a promise that she wasn’t forgotten, that she wasn’t some abandoned, discarded thing left to rot in the depths of the factory.

The slight weight of her head against your chest was a silent confirmation that she understood. You weren’t going to leave her alone in this place. You wouldn’t let her carry the burden of her past by herself.

For a long while, you stayed like that. The world outside seemed distant, and all that mattered in that moment was the fragile creature in your arms. You could feel the subtle rise and fall of her chest as she took a deep, steadying breath, and you knew, for just a fleeting moment, she felt safe.

When you finally pulled back, you didn’t leave her side. Instead, you sat beside her, your shoulder against hers, offering your presence as a reminder that she wasn’t forgotten. She looked at you, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, there was something resembling peace in her eyes.

In the quiet of that factory, you promised yourself that no matter what horrors lay ahead, Kissy Missy would never face them alone. And that, for all the trauma she had endured, she could still find a little bit of warmth, a little bit of comfort in this broken world.

You didn’t have to say it aloud. She knew. And for now, that was enough.