#the ability to love. the ability to be loved back
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retroaria · 2 days ago
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Hello! I'm not sure if you write for Karasu from Blue lock but if do you can I request first time hcs for him? If you don't write for him, Sae works too :D
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✶ first time!
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itoshi sae + karasu tabito x fem!reader
a/n: i definitely wanna do these for all the other guys after my event ends!
˗ˏˋ written for aria’s 1.5k follower event! ˎˊ˗
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➜ itoshi sae
when you and sae first started dating he was quick to try and initiate sex, feeling a bit confused if you were to tell him you wanted to wait.
once you are ready to have sex with him he plays it off like it’s no big deal but he secretly is fighting back his own excitement.
it shows in his eagerness to have you undressed beneath him. he takes your clothes off like a savage and immediately aims to mark you up, kissing and nibbling at your skin as his hands graze your body up and down squeezing and gripping at certain areas. sae is the kind of guy who gets off on the feeling of soft clean skin, so he takes his time appreciating your entire body.
normally he’d be more rough, but for your first time he decides to be a bit more gentle with everything. instead of eating you out like a madman he laps at your clit with a leisurely pace and curls his fingers into you slow but still striking.
he’d fuck you in standard missionary so he can moan softly in your ear and have you moaning in his. also likes to nibble at your neck and jaw.
his pace is at a comfy medium. he just doesn’t have it in him to make his thrusts slow and steady, but he enjoys slowing down a bit if only for the ability to make each thrust hit hard against your sweet spot to ensure your nails keep digging into his shoulders and biceps the entire time (his favorite fucking thing omg).
pull out > condom, unless you ask him to wear one which he would be fine with but he prefers not to. keeps his cock snug between your walls for as long as he possibly can. when sae’s close to orgasm he fully nuzzles his face in your neck and wraps his arms underneath you to pull you impossibly closer. he isn’t a loud moaner but his soft low groans are like audible porn.
sae’s aftercare doesn’t feel like he put in a lot of effort but it’s still good bc he basically just has you do all the stuff he would want to do himself after sex. shower, water, snuggle up.
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➜ karasu tabito
he’d be so patient if you wanted to wait for the relationship to get more serious! he’s a player for sure but when he’s locked in he’s locked in.
he would want to make it a romantic and intimate experience for you, but he wouldn’t go all out. he’d take you on a beautiful date before hand and he’d run a nice bath for you after, sweet but not too sweet.
loves foreplay omg don’t get me started.
i headcanon him as a beast in the sheets but on the low he loves slow sensual sex. wants to kiss and lick your entire body, have his face smothered between your legs for as long as possible, rubs his cock between your folds so long he almost cums right then and there before stopping himself. loves the way you whimper for him as his tip glides back and forth against your sensitive clit.
he’s got a cheeky smirk on his face the entire time, even while his eyes flutter shut as he slides his cock between your warm wet walls for the first time.
this might be an odd opportunity but i feel like for your first few times with him he’d really amp up the dirty talk and probably drop it later into the relationship unless you happen to really like it lol. he’d drop himself down so he can speak directly in your ear, telling you how good you’re taking him and how incredible you feel wrapped around his cock between his low groans and thrusts.
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look at me trying out new themes!! :D
mdni divider creds: @adornedwithlight so cute :3
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mercurycft · 1 day ago
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𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐑 — 𝐀𝐖𝐅𝐂
## reader x awfc !!
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hi all!! finally releasing this, which is in honour of jonas finally pissing off away from our girls and our team! i hope you enjoy! love always, RGx
warnings: angsty team x management arguments, mentions of mental health!
3.6k words.
“i’m sure the team will be buzzing with joy this evening after tonight’s win, but how are the girls and yourself taking the recent and surprising departure of a lifelong gunner?”
“yeah, as you said we’re all pleased with the result tonight - it was a great match with a good side and i think the score reflects the determination we took onto the pitch with us.” you watch as beth pauses, like she is searching for words that will do her feelings justice. “she was the best of us, not just the team but the best of us and our friends. i think she was and is destined for great things, but life and people unfortunately happened to get in the way. but i’m happy, we’re all, happy for her.”
you've known beth long enough to know when she is lying and it pains you to realise how the tone of her voice drops at the mention of you. it stings momentarily, but you shake it off and allow pride to take over you as the camera pans to the rest of the team taking their victory lap.
you find yourself smiling absentmindedly at your phone, having sat through the entire match with your eyes glued to your phone - watching your girls on the pitch from your home, instead of beside them for the first time in years. your stomach filled with a cocktail of emotions that you can’t seem to process at this very moment. a toxic mixture of sadness and despair, twisted and twined with anger and hatred for what the situation had become.
its been two weeks since your statement went out, three since you made the decision and four since the argument. in an ideal world, it wouldn’t have gone this way - you would’ve stomached your feelings for longer and swallowed your bubbling anger, bit your tongue and carried on as usual. but for some reason, you just couldn’t.
------
1 month ago.
a 3-0 win should be celebrated. it should fill you with joy and overwhelming excitement - but it doesn't. instead, it fills you with nothing but anger and resentment for the club you once loved, you used to love. in place of congratulations and pats on the back, is a lecture. a plethora of critiques and corrections despite the effort and conviction everyone had shown.
you and the rest of the girls stand huddled in a group in the locker room, stood in an agonising silence. your hair is still wet, from the sickly british rain that decided to visit, your face still tinted red and your chest still heaving.
you tune out to jonas' voice, watching absentmindedly as he paces ahead of the group - volume above his usual decibel as he tears into the group, pushing further and further. you don't listen, allowing your mind to wander. no one dares talk back, instead choosing to take his words. you, however, fail to be as nonchalant as them - swallowing the bubble of anger in your throat and biting your tongue to the best of your ability.
your mind is brought back into the tiled room at the snap of your name from the front of the group. you look up to be met with jonas' eyes on you - his eyebrows raised and seemingly awaiting an answer. "what?" you mumble through gritted teeth, eyes locked on his.
"do you care to fill the rest of us in on what is so important besides my feedback right now?"
you shake your head, matched with a sarcastic looking, sickly-sweet smile and lift your hand top gesture towards him. "oh please, carry on."
"i dont appreciate your attitude," he quips back, screwing his facial features together, feining disgust.
"whatever," you scoff, rolling your eyes and peeling yourself away from the bodies beside you - now overly aware of their eyes on you.
"i'm out." pause. "i'm going to leave, and have a glass of wine and celebrate a fucking win." you turn away from them, too busy to take off your kit and instead scrunching your clothes and belongings into your kit bag. "which by the way, is what we should all be doing! instead of standing here taking shit because he didn't like how we were moving on the pitch!"
there was a shift from him, and a deep red tint crept up his neck as he shot daggers at you from across the tiles. “i do everything for this team! maybe once in a while, it would be nice for you to do the same if you think you know better! please, do tell us, what makes you think you have done anything of significance for this team? for arsenal!”
it changed, then. the small shred of sympathy you had, the small shred of guilt - gone. ripped from inside you and splattered across the walls of your home stadium locker room. the girls around you seemed shocked at his words, confused and unsure of what to expect next.
you paused. taking a deep breath and halting your shoving of clothes and shoes into your bag, and turning to face him directly through the sea of red and white kits in front of you.
“what do i do, for this team?” the question sounded almost broken, like you couldn’t actually believe he was playing this card. you searched for the answer deep within yourself for a few seconds, allowing the hurt to build in your throat and fuel the fire burning deep behind your eyes and in the pit of your stomach. your eyes flicked over each of the faces now looking at you and a small smile teased at the corners of your lips as you looked at their concerned expressions.
after a few more moments of silence, you inhaled deeply and began. “i’ve given my life, to this club. to this team. i put in the work, i trained day and night in the academy, until i was enough for the senior team. and when i made it here, i made a difference. i stepped up when kim was out, when leah was out. when laura first moved here, i took her in.” you paused, taking another shaky breath, cautious of the tears held back by nothing more than your water line. “i don’t expect you to give a shit. but whilst you were too busy tearing this team down. katie for her aggression, kim for her captaining style, leah for her rehabilitation, viv for her performance, beth for her drive, lia for training hours and every other fucking player in this building. i was building them back up, i was trying to make this right.”
silence fell over the room, and you shook your head. “im done.” you all but whispered, slinging your bag over your shoulder and moving towards the large doors leading away from the locker room. “i can’t do this anymore, this club is my home - and i will not watch you tear it down.” you shoved the door, a single teare slipping down your cheek the second you heard the door swing back on its latch and close again. you didn't stop to say goodbye to the familiar faces in the building, instead, with your head down and focused on the floor beneath you - you walked straight into the carpark, got into your car and drove home.
as you drove away, the weight of your decision settled in your chest. you couldn't believe it had come to this, that you had walked away from the team you had poured your heart and soul into. all the emotions you had been burying for weeks and weeks on end were now uncontrollable, tears streaming as you contemplated your actions but you knew you couldn't bear to stay in an environment where your efforts were belittled and unappreciated.
after a 40 minute drive, you found solace and refuge in the familiar walls of your apartment. the silence enveloped you as you sank onto the sofa, reaching for your phone. you hestitated in pulling it out of your bag, unsure of what may be waiting for you when you unlock it.
but still, you did, heaving a deep breath when your screen lit up with a message from beth. her words expressing concern and confusion about what had transpired in the locker room. as you read beth's message, a mix of emotions washed over you - relief that someone cared enough to reach out, but also a pang of guilt for leaving without saying a proper goodbye. to her, to any of the girls in the room. you quickly typed out a response, skipping over the details of your motives - instead opting for a light hearted message, apologising for your abrupt exit and apologising for not controlling your temper.
minutes turned into hours as you sat there, staring at your phone, the weight of your actions heavy on your shoulders. you hadn’t moved, still sat in your jacket and kit, boots still tied to your feet. the sound of a familiar notification pinged through the room - like it had been doing on repeat since that first message from beth, and you saw more messages popping up from your now ex-teammates.
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1 week later - 3 weeks ago.
the days blurred into a week as you settled into a routine without the training sessions, team meetings, and the constant thoughts of upcoming matches that used to consume your time. you found freedom in the quiet moments alone, the weight of expectation now lifted off your shoulders, a sense of liberation starting to bloom within you. you finally felt like a person, not just a player.
you had been speaking to the girls everyday, each of them keeping you up to date on life behind the scenes of the club. the drama and tension seemed to have escalated in your absence, with rumors swirling about disputes between jonas and some of the other players. your decision to leave had sent shockwaves through the team, but it also seemed to have sparked a newfound sense of unity among everyone.
it was a miserable london evening when you got your first unexpected visit, darkness just creeping across the clouds when a knock at the door interrupted your law and order binge.
to your surprise, standing on your doorstep was leah, with a hesitant smile on her face.
a flood of questions and uncertainties raced through your mind as you stood frozen in the doorway, unsure of what to say or how to react to her unexpected visit.
"hey," leah began, her voice soft yet laced with underlying tension. "uh, can I come in?"
you hesitated for a moment, the inner turmoil evident on your face as you considered whether to welcome her inside. finally, you stepped back, wordlessly opening the door wider to allow her entry. leah entered cautiously, taking in the familiar surroundings of your apartment with a mix of nostalgia and apprehension.
there was a palpable tension in the air as you both stood in the living room, the silence stretching between you like a taut wire. you shared the quiet for a second or two before leah spoke up, her words carefully measured. "i know things have been rough lately... for all of us, you especially, i wanted to come here and talk, clear the air maybe?”
you studied her face, searching for any hint of insincerity, but all you found was genuine concern etched in the furrow of her brow. with a sigh, you nodded, gesturing towards the couch for her to sit. as she settled on the edge of the cushion, you perched on the arm beside her, like you used to.
"i just... i wanted to say that i'm sorry. sorry for not speaking up before, for not standing by you when things blew up. i let my own fears and doubts cloud my judgment, and i should have been there for you, we all should have been there for you."
her words hung heavy in the air, mingling with the unspoken tension that had plagued your relationship for months. you could sense the sincerity in her voice, the raw vulnerability that she rarely showed to anyone.
“i appreciate it, but it wasn’t your fight, le.”
“your fights are our fights, you’re one of us, you always have been. you always will be”
you gave her a half smile in response, and moved closer to her on the sofa - opening your arms to her. she mirrored your smile, allowing your arms to wrap around her and hers around you.
after a few moments, you pulled away, looking at her directly. “thank you, for coming round. and for looking after me for all these years. but i think,” you paused, sniffling and turning your attention to the fabric of the sofa below you. “i think its time,”
she nodded along with you, taking a deep breath before smiling at you. “if that’s what you want to do, then do it, and we will support you. i promise.”
“i don’t know how to tell the girls, i haven’t seen any of them since i left. i don’t want them to find out through social media,” you rambled.
“we’re all meeting at mine tomorrow, why dont you come along? i know they want to see you, and i think you deserve a night to relax with us - gunner style.” you share a laugh at her comment, agreeing to see the girls. a small shred of anxiety tore through the depths of your stomach, but you shook it off; determined to do the right thing.
the next day seemed to fly by, seeming to disappear from you as you spent the hours doing odd jobs - attempting to distract yourself from the uneasiness gnawing at your insides.
now, you find yourself outside leah’s flat. she said 7, but you underestimated the traffic at this time in this part of the city - so you’re late, as per usual, and composing of yourself on the door step. after a deep breath, you raise your hand to knock.
once, twice, then the door flies open. a smiley young aussie waiting to greet you, her arms immediately around you and pulling you tight to her frame. “jesus, i missed you,” she whispers into your shoulder. “i missed you too, k.” you pull apart and she grabs your hand, pulling you from the now closed door and into the living area. it’s littered with everyone you know and love.
they greet you like nothing has changed, arms wrapped around you and whispers, comments and remarks of support. you slip into the group like you never left.
after you’ve eaten, and have returned to the living area, you stand up - allowing everyone’s eyes to fall on you. you take a deep breath, smiling at them then looking down at your thumbs. you twiddle them and enterlock your hands as you search for the best way to say it.
“i wanted you to hear it from me, that next week, a statement will be released. a statement explaining my temporary contract termination from arsenal. i love you all, like my family. i don’t want any of you to feel like any of this is your fault, but i just feel like i’m at a different point in my life right now - a point where my views, and the clubs managment’s views no longer align. i can’t jeopardise my mental health, for people who can’t seem to put me, or my friends, first.”
you say it in one, your mouth and words moving faster than your brain can comprehend. you finish with a shallow breath, looking up to the group. they take it well, a few of them shedding tears at the offical loss of their friend and teammate, others hugging you and sharing comforting smiles. you know it needs to happen, but this is the part that kills you. leaving behind your family, your people.
the night draws to an end and you begin saying your goodbyes, promising to keep in touch and arranging plans to meet up soon. as you start making your way out of the room and towards the door, kim pulls you aside. you can’t read her expression, a sickening mixture of sadness and happiness for you.
“i’ll miss you,” she says softly, reaching out to squeeze your hand. “but I know you’re doing what’s best for you. just don’t be a stranger, okay?”
you nod, feeling a lump form in your throat as you hug her tightly one last time before heading out the door.
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1 week later - 2 weeks ago.
3pm. your phone dings with a notification from the arsenal woman’s football club instagram and app, giving you and thousands of others the news of a new and important post. you hover your finger over the notification, hestitating.
you open it eventually, propping your phone up as the video loads onto the screen. you cringe at the sight of you, expectant of whats to come.
“hi gooners, it’s so nice to sit down and speak to you. this year marks my 15th year at arsenal, if we’re taking it all the way back to my first academy scouting when i was 8. i have nothing my fondness and admiration for this club, these people and this community. to be apart of this team and to watch the growth of woman’s football has been an honour and a pleasure i will forever be grateful for. when i think back on my years here, i have nothing but happy memories. memories of friends, of wins and of losses, of meeting fans and selling out stadiums. some of these things we never believed would be possible, but you, every last one of you, have made it possible. after 15 years of my life dedicated to the game, i think it’s time to take a break. temporarily and indefinitely, i will be taking a step back from the club. thank you all for your unwaivering support, it means the world to me. this is a special club, which remains my home. but my health and wellbeing needs to be my number one priority. thank you.”
you watch as the video comes to an end, and the messages, comments and likes begin. you switch off your phone after a few minutes, tucking it under a cushion on your sofa and resuming your show - tuning out the constant buzzing.
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present day.
you watch until the live recording of the match ends, you watch all of the post-match interviews, with nothing other than a smile on your face. when the stream finally does end, you feel like you can breathe again, switching to your messages app and drafting a text into the groupchat to congratulate the girls on their win. you press send, then abandon your phone beside you somewhere on the sofa. paying it no mind and you lean back into the comfort of the cushions and pillows surrounding you.
as you sink deeper into the softness, you let out a content sigh, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. you close your eyes and let the sounds of the television fade into the background, relishing in the quiet of your own thoughts.
you dozed off, allowing the safety of sleep to engulf you for a few hours. you lay peacefully until the doorbell rings, jolting you awake. you groan in annoyance, wondering who could possibly be bothering you at this hour. you reach for your phone as you stand, 9pm. reluctantly, you shuffle away from the sofa and make your way to the door, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.
as you swing open the door, you are met with a pair of familiar faces that brings an instant smile to your lips. beth and viv, stand on your doorstep with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"surprise!" beth exclaims, holding up a bottle of wine and a bunch of flowers. "we come bearing gifts. can we come in?"
you step aside, allowing them to enter, still slightly taken aback by their unexpected visit. they both breeze past the threshold, only stopping for a moment to give you a hug before making themselves at home on your sofa.
“i didn’t know you were back in london, viv!” you exclaim, watching her set the flowers on the counter. “and shouldn’t you be out celebrating?” you ask beth with a laugh, shutting the door and joining them on the sofa.
“there’s no where we would rather be, mijn liefje.”
its the later end of midnight when you all start to tire, spread across the sofa and floor with eyes barely open and focusing on the movie playing.
“do you guys want to just stay here tonight? i don’t wan’t you driving home tired.” you say through a yawn, stretching your back out and turning to look at the both of them cuddled up beside you. both of their eyes closed and chests rising peacefully. you smile to yourself, moving to grab a blanket from the basket beside you and cover them both up. you switch off the tv, turn off the big light and make your way to your bedroom.
it isn’t long before you’re asleep too.
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the next morning you wake to a persistant buzzing sound, your phone rattling on your bedside table. notifications from twitter and instagram flood your lockscreen, along with messages from the arsenal groupchat and from distant friends.
your eyes are just barely open when you reach for it, giving your eyes a moment to adjust before looking at the screen. you swing yourself off the bed, feet finding the cold of the floor as you pad through the flat until you find beth and viv.
they’re awake, both sharing the same expression as they look at you in the doorway between the two rooms.
you begin to read from your phone. “we can confirm that jonas eidevall has resigned from his position as head coach of our women’s first team and leaves us with immediate effect.”
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megamindsecretlair · 1 day ago
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Make Me Weak, Part 2
Pairing: Sex Therapist!Terry Richmond x Sub!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, mentions of depression, anxiety, and description of sex acts and sexual issues. Hair pulling, PIV, condom use. Power imbalance, Shy!reader. Dark!Terry. Dom!Terry, AU Terry, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some. I'm not a therapist and while I do not make light of therapy, this is purely for my own fun. Please seek real medical attention when necessary.
Summary: You followed Dr. Richmond’s instructions to the best of your ability. You spent so much time in your mind that willingly descending into your body was an experience that opened your eyes to how much you had neglected. Your second session forces you to confront more truths than what you were ready for. 
Terry reaches some conclusions of his own as he tries to shake whatever is ailing him by disappearing between Tasia’s thighs. Yet his mind is on you, on your thoughts and words. During the second session, he can’t help but push you beyond your limit.
Word Count: 5,018k
Part 1 | AO3 Link
A/N: I'n back babbyyyy. I got so inspired reading so many lovely fics. Plus the encouraging asks really helped. I had TOO much fun writing this and you will not hurt my feelings if you don't want to read this one. However, I must tag to keep my taglist updated. Forgive me, my loves. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.
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You
Hot steam rolled out from the shower as you set it to your desired temperature. You faced yourself in the mirror, thinking over Dr. Richmond’s words. You supposed that there was some truth to what he had told you.
Most people did start by exploring their own bodies first. It must be so easy for guys. Close the door, grab some lotion, and rub one out. Girls on the other hand…your life was constantly spent in a state of panic.
Panic that anything on your person would make your mother snap. Harsh criticisms hidden behind “just talkin’ shit” that Black people liked to hide behind. You were too sensitive to jokey-joke with when you weren’t able to reciprocate. It’s not like you could talk about your mom. It’s not like you could throw insults back in her face and tell her to take it in stride.
Panic that you could be caught or exposed at any point. You were a grown woman, yes. You were also taught to believe that you needed to act as if someone was watching. You believed there was some kind of life after all this and so wouldn’t it stand to reason that someone or something would be looking at you? Or worse, someone would come flying through your door because your family lacked boundaries? 
Panic that you didn’t know what lay on the other side of an orgasm. How would you feel? How would you look? Surely something like that changed a person. Feeling that rush of relief for the first time had to be special. Had to be amazing. Otherwise, why would anyone ever be obsessed with sex? 
Panic that you’d never reach that peak and fall over. Never feel that rush of euphoria that everyone talked about. Porn, books, friend groups. You always felt left out and you didn’t want to anymore, dammit. 
You watched yourself in the mirror as steam overtook it, inch by inch. Until you were only staring at your eyes and the disbelief written all over your face. Would this even work? Were you wasting your time? 
“I need total, focused commitment from you.”
Dr. Richmond’s sultry voice skittered along your naked skin. Goosebumps raised on your flesh from the cold air moving through the house. You would be focused. You would be committed. This was something you wanted so badly, you were fucking desperate. 
So you took deep, measured breaths using the Box method a previous therapist told you about. You inhaled for a count of four, held for four, exhaled for a count of four, and then held it for four. You repeated the process, doing a full body scan. 
You focused on your head, starting with your scalp. You focused on your forehead, feeling the tension melt away and your eyebrows start to relax. You hadn’t even realized that you had it scrunched.
You brought your attention to your eyes, unfocusing them, and allowed them to close. You repeated the process, breathing the entire time, settling down into your body when your mind wanted so badly to escape. To flee. To leave the Horrors. 
When you felt your mind drift, you didn’t chastise yourself. You continued to breathe, focusing on your breaths until you continued with your scan. Your body relaxed fraction by fraction. Your shoulders lowered from up around your neck. Aches and pains became more prominent. 
Your belly expanded and you sighed. You hadn’t even noticed how often you clenched your stomach, never allowing yourself a full breath. You always had to be on edge. Never knew where the next danger was coming from. What new fresh hell you would encounter just around the corner. 
By the time you reached your feet, you felt more relaxed than you had in a long time. Your body prickled with your newfound awareness. Steam caressed your bareskin and you quickly hopped in the shower, letting the warm water cascade across your body.
The water felt different on your body. Each droplet may as well have been a tiny earthquake, popping all over your skin and making you tingle. This…wasn’t too bad. 
You lathered up your facial scrub and gently moisturized your face, soothing the stiff areas. Your jaw popped as it loosened and you moaned from the relief. 
How long? How long have you spent outside of your body? A stranger to it? A foreigner to this vessel you carried around? Had you truly loved your body when you were so alien to it? Or had you just learned to layer on the armor and pretend? 
God, you felt like crying. With one session, Dr. Richmond already had you re-thinking your entire life. Like the answer was there in your face the entire time and you just needed him to shine a light on it. 
You rinsed your face while you grabbed a washcloth and lathered up with your favorite soap. You added body wash and then took your time trailing the washcloth around your body. Starting with your neck, you worked your way down to your chest. 
You took your time feeling the rough cloth against your smooth, watery skin. You rounded the washcloth across your nipples and they beaded under the slow torture. Oh, this was new. This was very nice. 
You were focused, letting the water act as a sound machine, lulling you into a further relaxed state. You followed the washcloth with your hand, moving over and under your areolas and nipples. You pinched your nipples and gave it a tug. You gasped from the responding tug in your pussy.
You moved on, remembering Dr. Richmond’s words about not making it sexual. But fuck, how could you not? 
Heat flushed beneath your skin that had nothing to do with the hot water on your body. You washed your back and then moved lower, skirting your throbbing pussy and washed your legs and dug the cloth between your toes. 
On the way up, your fingers glided around your mound, your hips pushing forward. Your breathing turned rapid, feeling yourself getting more and more excited. Your brain turned to mush, retreating from your actions. Like it wanted to picture something else. You shook your head, and started up with your Box breathing again.
You stopped mid-shower to reorient yourself and get yourself back into that zone of ultimate calm. If Dr. Richmond were there…
You focused on what he might say. There was no rush. There was no rulebook for this sort of thing. There was no reason to chastise yourself. There was no test to pass or box you had to check in order to achieve an orgasm. You just needed to relax, dammit. 
Slowly, achingly slow, you went back to that calm. You continued lathering up your body and then rinsed the soap off. You repeated the process, adding more soap to thoroughly wash your body. To enjoy the feel of the cloth and water and soap on your skin. On your body. 
“This is the only body you’ll ever have so it’s time to think beyond simple body maintenance. Admire your body.”
This was the only body you would ever have. It was time you stopped treating it like the enemy. 
You turned off the water and then got out. The chill air hit the water on your back and you shrieked and shivered, quickly drying off. You went through your nightly routine, taking care of your teeth, face, and deodorant. You sat down on a decorated stool in your bathroom to apply your lotion.
As instructed, you looked at your body. Every mole, every scar, every bump, and every wayward hair. Being in your body was weird to say the least. You had to disassociate to survive your childhood and you never learned to drop those defenses. Your body never realized that it wasn't at war anymore. Or perhaps it was and this was battle fatigue. You were so damn tired.
You massaged the lotion into your skin and then slipped in your panties. You pulled on an ankle bracelet you got while visiting New York once and it made you feel extra pretty, so why not. You turned on your bedside light and pulled out a notebook.
You started a new entry and wrote about the sensations and revelations you experienced. Some of it you would discuss with Dr. Richmond and some of it was never leaving your grave. It felt good to get it all out, uninterrupted.
Sometimes, venting to someone else just gave them room to talk over you. To steer the direction back to them. Brooklyn was like that. In an effort to relate, she ended up taking over the convo and made it about her situation. Then you ended up comforting her about her issue and never feeling truly heard about yours.
In a journal however, you pretended that you were just relaying it to a friend. The type of friend who allowed you to speak. To get your jumbled thoughts out without getting mad or trying overshadow you. 
Done, you collapsed against your bed as if every ounce of strength left your body. You breathed through it, allowed your body to rest for a moment. The hell kind of voo-doo shit did your therapist put you through?
Immediately, warning bells went off in your mind. Surely, you would be whisked away to some super important task around the house. Surely, your phone would ring with some awful accident you had to attend to. Surely…nothing. You were drained. You had nothing. 
You had just enough energy to put the journal up, turn off the light, and drift off to the deepest sleep of your life.
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Terry
Tasia bounced like a porn star on Terry’s dick and it wasn’t doing a damn thing for him. He felt himself getting soft the more Tasia shuddered with her pleasure. At least one of them was having fun. 
Maybe he rushed this. Too intent on getting you out of his mind that he hopped immediately into Tasia’s warm heat and didn’t consider that there was no substitution. He knew it was irrational to be drawn to you so fast. After only one session. He was conflicted on that front, but it went beyond just looks. 
Your case, your assessments, your willingness to try, and your obvious smarts was a cocktail shooting through his veins and turning his body liquid. The perfect sub was dropped into his lap and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
And as a man used to getting his way in the bedroom, it stuck in his craw that he couldn’t have you. That it wasn’t your pussy that his dick disappeared inside of. Would you moan loudly? Were you shy in the bedroom? Were you enthusiastic? 
What would your mouth look like taking the full length of him? How far down could you suck him? Did that same determination translate to the bedroom?
Tasia grunted beneath him as his dick rose back to life, thoughts of you turning him harder than a brick. He could build a house with how hard he was at the moment, picturing the curves on your body. The natural handles in your waist for his big hands to wrap around. To hold.
He moaned, picturing it all so clearly. His thumbs would dig into your back. The sounds you would make. His hips jerked just thinking of pounding into you. No mercy. You weren’t some fragile flower. Your insightful thoughts were like a mirror to his own. He wanted to explore with you. And the fact that he couldn’t had him pulling Tasia’s hair back.
“Call me Dr. Richmond,” he commanded.
“Yes, D-Dr. Richmond,” Tasia moaned. It was starting to piss him off. 
“Softer,” he said.
“Yes, Dr. Richmond,” she said, bringing her voice lower, softer. It was nowhere near your voice, but it’d do for the fantasy he concocted in his head. He didn’t have time for any extra tricks tonight. He just needed to get to the other side of his nut. 
He closed his eyes and thought about your case. He wondered if you were doing as you were told. He wondered how well you would take commands in the bedroom. If he even had to give commands at all. If you’d instinctively know what he needed when he needed it. Tasia used to know that. Tasia used to have him out of breath. 
Now…she was a beautiful girl with deep mocha skin, a cute face, and wide expressive eyes. She was like a little doe in a meadow somewhere. He was attracted to the overall softness of her and of her body. The natural way she seemed to know what he needed. 
Perhaps it was him that had changed. His tastes. He was no longer interested in a casual sub-relationship. Perhaps he wanted a more permanent sub. One he could explore every single nasty fantasy with and never get bored. He was getting older, getting into his early-thirties without a significant partner.
And that was what he wanted. A partner. An equal. Someone he raced home to see or spent his days thinking about how he would break her and put her back together like a puzzle box. 
Terry groaned and came into the condom, gripping Tasia’s asscheeks for dear life. It was one of the hardest climaxes he ever experienced. His release triggered hers, causing her to fall forward as her pussy gripped his dick. 
He pulled out and immediately disposed of the condom, coming back to help clean up Tasia. 
“That was…different,” she said, using the word in place of something else. He didn’t want his reputation to slacken in that regard, but hell, this whole thing had been a mistake. He still made sure she came twice before he did, but he usually put more oomph into his sexual exploits. 
He usually had Tasia popping her pussy on his face, or contorting her like a pretzel. Now…he was just over it. Over trying to impress someone that wasn’t permanent in his life. That he couldn’t play with whenever he wanted. He was no longer excited at the prospect of making many women cum. He just wanted to make one cum over and over again. He wanted to collect each one like trophies. 
Terry grabbed Tasia’s hand and kissed the back of it. “Forgive me. Tonight should’ve probably been a gym night,” he said. He smiled for good measure, but it was a close-lipped smile.
“Oh, I’m not complaining. That dick still know how to rock my world,” she said. She stood up, pulling on her sweats and sweatshirt, and slipping on her sneakers. He sat down on the bed and watched her, not feeling an ounce of desire. 
She leaned over and grabbed his chin, making him look up at her. “You take care of yourself and whatever or whoever got you in this funk. And if you need more relief, you know my number,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said with another close-lipped smile. Tasia had been one of his longest play partners, he’d be sorry to see her go. She smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek, showing herself out. 
Terry sat in his fancy bedroom in his fancy house, staring at the empty archway Tasia disappeared through. His mind and body told him that he was ready for something more. Something tangible. Something he could hold and never let go. He only hoped he found it soon.
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You
You clutched your journal to your chest as you sat in Dr. Richmond’s office. Nothing about it had changed except the man himself. He chose to wear a cream colored outfit. A soft, oatmeal colored sweater and khaki pants with white sneakers. His gold rimmed glasses flashed every so often from the light overhead and you couldn’t help catching every single thing about him. If only to distract you from your racing thoughts.
It was one thing to live in your body when you were in the comfort of your own bathroom. Your mind escaped once more, retreated to the safest place you knew. Your knee bounced with nervousness. 
“You don’t have to share if you don’t want to. This is a safe space. It’s your space. You get to decide what we do here,” he said. 
You closed your eyes to the sound of his voice. If he wasn’t so damn helpful, you’d ask for someone else. Literally, anyone else. But he was the first therapist to give you a glimpse of the other side. You wanted that more than you were embarrassed.
“No, I want to share. I need to share,” you said. You licked your lips and then cracked open your journal. You skimmed over things you didn’t want to reveal just yet. Too embarrassing for a second meeting, of course.
“I think…I think my mind is safer. I am constantly on alert that I’m “doing the right thing”, as opposed to what actually makes me happy,” you said. 
When you didn’t say anything, Terry leaned back in his seat. He rolled up his sleeves, revealing the golden brown of his forearms. Your mind emptied of any other thought until he cleared his throat. “Can you expand on that?” 
You looked up into his eyes before heat rushed to your ears. You looked back at your journal, focusing on that rather than his lush, pink lips. 
You told him more about how you reached this conclusion. That there was a standard for being Black that you never quite achieved. That at any moment, multiple mobs of people were coming for your Black card. Or, you were constantly trying to over-achieve at school. You had to work twice as hard, had to be the smartest in the class, because if you came home with a B, your mom went on a long rant about being stupid and never achieving anything real in life. Or how everyone praised you at work for going above and beyond and then got mad when you couldn’t sustain it. You were constantly on the lookout for someone else’s standard.
“I have so many fucking voices in my ear, telling me to do this or do that. And I fucking hate it. Which is wild considering that that’s what I seek in a sexual partner,” you said.
Dr. Richmond smiled and nodded. “Your mind is trying to re-contextualize your upbringing. Being submissive is actually about putting yourself in the position of power. A dom is only as good as how well he treats his sub. It’s about the ultimate act of trust on the submissive’s part,” he explained.
“Yes! And how can I trust that someone isn’t going to…take what I say or want and abuse that or make fun of me for it?” You asked. You played with the corner of your journal, not willing to look at Dr. Richmond. You didn’t need to see the pathetic pity in his steel blue eyes. 
“You have to stand resolute in what you want. You have to recognize that pleasure and sex is about give and take. Trust and acceptance. The right partner isn’t going to make fun of you, abuse you, or rush you,” he said. 
You sighed and leaned back on the brown sofa. You felt like you were chasing a unicorn. What kind of guy was willing to be dominant and care about your needs? Reassure you when you needed and took control when your body sent massive panicked waves at him? Took care of the trust you were placing in him to help you relax and cum? While also being physically attractive to you and have you be attracted to him; not a chubby chaser, not a creep, and not an abuser? 
It was impossible. Hopeless.  
“If you’re comfortable, tell me more about what you found,” he said.
You took your mind off of your dream mystery man. When the fuck was it going to be your turn? 
You scanned your journal once more, noting the sensations about actually living inside your body. “I think when I feel an orgasm approaching, I get scared. And that could be part of why I’m blocking it, but even when I’m alone, I don’t know what it feels like. Or…”
“Or…?” Dr. Richmond prompted. 
You grimaced. Fuck, this was so hard to put into words. Too hard to expose yourself like this. But did you want to reach your sixties, seventies, never having a true orgasm? Never finding your way to actual release? 
“Or, there’s no way to control the orgasm,” you said.
Dr. Richmond nodded. “The goal isn’t to control it, you know,” he said. 
“I know!” You groaned and stood up. You thought better on your feet. Or maybe when you had something to do, you were better able to regulate the jumble of emotions inside of you. No wonder your emotions were all over the place. You spent too long disassociating, too long in your mind and not enough in your body. 
“What benefit do you get from being in control all the time?” The scratch of his pen on the notebook drew your attention to him. To his pretty face, dark eyelashes, and push lips. You watched as he wrote in his notebook. Watched the lines and planes of his gorgeous face. His short curled afro. 
“If I’m in control, if I never look weak or stupid or incompetent, then I win. I win at life. And all my bullies, from school to home are all wrong. There’s nothing wrong with me because I know what to do. I know what to say. I’m not an alien,” you said, taking a deep breath at the revelation.
Whatever your insurance company was paying him, they needed to double it. You admitted things you never had in the past. Your previous therapists attacked your problem sex first, focusing on different methods you could try. Some wanted you to describe, in detail, whatever you did to get yourself off. Safe to say they weren’t practicing ever again. 
“Do you believe there’s something wrong with you?” He asked. He leaned back in his seat, giving you an unflinching stare. His face gave away nothing, revealed nothing, as you thought through his question. 
“All the fucking time. Why else do friends keep leaving me? Or guys don’t want me? Or my mom is…my mom,” you said. 
“Have you considered that you aren’t the problem?” He asked.
“How could I not be? I’m the only common denominator,” you said. You flopped back onto the couch but it wasn’t that soft. It thudded under your weight and you took a deep breath. Fuck, you wanted to cry. Tears pricked your eyes, turning them hot and itchy. You refused to cry in front of this man. 
This strange, quiet man who seemed to read you like one of the many books on his bookshelf. No wonder he had so many degrees. He could drag a full confession from a mute. 
“That may be true. But, bear with me, consider that you aren’t the problem. If you take yourself out of the equation, what are you left with?” He asked. He leaned forward on his desk and the sudden intensity of the question made your mind blank.
You had…nothing. No explanation, no back up. You were used to making yourself the problem. The issue had to be you. If it wasn’t you…
You shrugged your shoulders and looked away from him. The silence stretched on, so quiet you could hear the quiet tick of the clock on the wall. 
“Don’t shy away now, dig into it. If it’s not you, then…?” Dr. Richmond prompted. 
The question only seemed to make you clamp up. Your tongue swelled. Your throat constricted. If it wasn’t you, then what? Everyone was incapable of giving you what you wanted? Everyone just had an agenda against you? Please, that was narcissistic as hell. 
Dr. Richmond stood up from his desk and took off his glasses. He pulled out a drawer and retrieved a glass cleaner cloth. He cleaned his glasses and walked around the front of his desk.
“Consider, for a moment, that other people have deficiencies as well. That people congregate in groups because biologically, it’s safer. We seek groups to be in and when we can’t find one, we tend to think that we’re the problem. That we are outcasts, getting left out to defend ourselves. But all that means is that we haven’t found our group yet. You’re trying to fit a round peg into a square hole. You don’t belong with the squares, so no, you won’t fit in with them. 
“The same goes for sex. Everybody has their preferences. People have their kinks, their needs. When those needs aren’t meant, society teaches us to look at our own deficiencies rather than someone else’s. Perhaps the man you need sexually is far different from the men you take to bed,” he said. He waved around his glasses as he spoke, drawing attention to his massive hands. 
Seriously, they were huge. Like two lion paws that could strike down someone with one hit. He held his glasses by the frame, waving it around delicately as he spoke. You were still paying attention to his words, but fuck…he was unreal. 
“But how do I find the man that I need sexually?” You asked.
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Terry
Terry inwardly groaned as you asked him that. Plenty of suggestions came to mind, each too crass to suggest. How could he tell you to go into another man’s arms? How could he send you to another man to unleash that hidden hellcat within you and he wouldn’t get to experience it? 
He needed to end this. End this before it even began. He placed his glasses back on his face and crossed a line that he never thought he would. “I think we have more work to do to adjust the way you think about sex before we get into how you attract what you’re seeking. In fact, I’d suggest you abstain from sex until we get deeper into this,” he said.
“Abstain?” You snorted and he fought a smile. Your face showed absolute disgust, like the mere thought was abhorrent. 
“Abstain. From what you’ve told me and what’s in your file, you jumped from overcoming your initial thoughts and reluctance about sex right to jumping into bed. Without really, truly exploring yourself first. Kids explore their bodies all the time right? They grow conscious of themselves and start thinking about hey, my equipment is different from someone else’s equipment,” he said.
You couldn’t help but giggle and it caused him to smirk in return. Yes, it was silly. Talking about sex was silly. But it was true. “And as you start to notice people that you’re attracted to, you start to grow conscious of hormones in your system. Brain chemistry. All the fun stuff that goes into attraction. You start to touch yourself more, explore your preferences through porn or books or experimentation.”
You cringed when he brought up experimentation. He tilted his head. “Did you go through an experimentation phase?” He asked.
You closed your eyes and sighed as if it were the last question you wanted to answer. You completely fascinated him. He had no idea what would come out of your mouth next. How you would respond to certain questions or ideas. 
He snuck a glance at the clock, he was nearing the end of the session. He flexed his jaw. This was so damn irritating. By the time you were willing to open up, it was time to end it. He wished he could carve out a month of sessions to get you to lower your defenses and let him inside. 
“No? I grew up in the wrong generation. All everyone thought about was sex and while I did too, no one was checking for the fat Black nerds unless it was a prank. And I saw everything as a prank. I was always getting pointed at, made fun of, stared at. Jesus, being exposed fucking sucks! So, no, I didn’t experiment. There was no one to fucking experiment with. 
“And it wasn’t like I could go ten feet from my mom without her up my ass about where I was going. Claiming she just didn’t want me to get snatched when all she really wanted was just to control me. To not let me end up like her. Young and pregnant,” you practically yelled, spewing way more vitriol than he expected.
He figured it was a sore spot for you by the way you grimaced, but he hadn’t been expecting…that. Again, he balled his fists thinking of every person that ever let you down. Every person that was supposed to uplift you, guide you, help you, all dropped the ball in teaching you about self love.
Every experience every kid was supposed to have was denied to you. Instead of being asked out with interest, with sincerity, boys treated it like a prank. He was wild in his youth, he wasn’t always nice to people, or he went through life like a little gremlin. But he liked to think he mellowed somewhat in high school. Treating everyone with respect. From the nerds to the jocks. He didn’t know what not trusting people’s words felt like. Like everything that someone said came laced with poisoned barbs ready to sting. 
“This is so fucking stupid,” you whispered. Your lip trembled but no tears fell down your face. 
Fuck, even now you were trying to hold everything in. Control a natural response to something painful. “When was the last time you cried?” Terry asked.
You stood up and snatched your purse and journal from the couch. “Session’s up, right?” You asked. You avoided looking at him as you rushed to the exit. The faux glass door clanged against the wall as you threw open the door and left, steps echoing on the linoleum flooring. 
He stared at the door as it lazily swung back and he wondered. And he pondered. 
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Wheww, need more? The Secret Terry Richmond Files | Part 1
Taglist: You guys, ya'll gon make me cry with this taglist! Thank you!
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snapdrag0n · 8 hours ago
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Everybody saying martin and yes. Yes. Of course I agree. Duh. It's also kind of the curse of being a VERY complex, VERY famous fictional character who also goes through a lot of change during the story and whose character arc includes him being misread and misunderstood by others.
But it's still frustrating because it's so obvious. Tma does a great job at depicting how people's perception of Martin is VERY wrong. People SAY things about him and afterwards, Martin SHOWS you that assumption was completely off - sometimes immediately after! Jon assumes Martin is incapable? Mere episodes later Martin has worked so hard that he got locked in his house for 13 days and still, the first thing he does as he's freed is make a statement. Jon starts recognizing his ability to be "almost cunning" soon after -- he's seeing the real Martin.
In s2-3 Tim is convinced all Martin wants is an idyllic reality where everyone is happy and nothing bad ever happens. Tim assumes Martin wants an escape, when the ENTIRETY of s3 is Martin being nearly the only one to actually face what is happening -- HE's making the statements and researching them on his own, not Tim, as bad as it makes him feel. And when Elias tells him his devotion is to a person who treats him quite badly his answer is "yeah, I know". Because he DOES. People keep assuming Martin doesn't stand up for himself, but it's the opposite -- Martin knows EXACTLY when someone is mistreating him and manipulating him, and he usually uses that. Why else would he have been so strongly considered for the Web? Elias's first idea was to destroy Martin's image of Jon -- but he can't, because Martin ALREADY knows. That's when he hits way closer, to his parents and his mother, the one topic that's actually still a sore subject for him. And yet, after all that, he immediately gets up and gets back to business, his plan having succeeded. He gets back to work. Martin's ability to manipulate a situation to his advantage is CONSISTENTLY shown and NOBODY SEEMS TO SEE IT both in the show and outside of it.
And s4 oh s4. To me it's peak Martin season because everything he's been trying to push against becomes too strong for him -- and still he perseveres and proves everyone wrong. Here, the concept of him knowing he's being manipulated and using it to his benefit is central to his arc and consistent until the end -- everytime you think Peter might have finally gotten him, Martin reminds you he knows EXACTLY who he's working with, and beats him, even when the Lonely has nearly completely got him (then there's Jon pulling him out, and him finally, finally getting back all that love he's given, all that caring. But that's another story. I love jmart)
And s5 has a lot of him, and I could go on and on, but I'll just say this. You probably don't realize just how much Martin manipulates the situations he's in so that what he wants can happen, and it's not obvious in s5, but he's actually doing it with his relationship with Jon -- not in a bad, actually manipulative way, mostly, but in the way you would if you saw your partner go through what Jon went through, become what Jon has become. Martin pushes Jon to get out of his guilty mindset. Martin convinces Jon to get out and try to make it better. If you still don't see it: do you realize that in the finale, despite Jon betraying everything they'd organized, what happens is STILL what Martin wanted?
It might be unfair to call it manipulation: it's not. Martin, at his core, loves immensely, and that's something any fan sees. What many people don't truly understand is HOW Martin loves: he doesn't love carelessly and selflessly (except in the very beginning, maybe). Martin loves very, very carefully. He adores and loves and takes CARE of it. He's stubborn, hard, and resolute in the face of it. He will not sit and take it. He will love actively and he will fight for it.
Worst pain
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exhaslo · 2 days ago
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Kinktober Day 28- Miguel x F!Reader: Dirty Talk
Summary: Miguel wants to try something new in your relationship.
Warning: MINORS DNI, SMUT, dirty talk
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It had been over a year since you and Miguel had started dating. The two of you were nearly inseparable. The two of you had met at Alchemax and soon came to enjoy each other's company. The chemistry you shared was unique.
Eventually, you pieced together that Miguel was Spider-Man. Once that secret was out, there was not much holding the two of you back. You would help him with the best of your abilities, just as long as he was honest with you.
Miguel was a stressed man. You were happy to calm and ease his worries. Best way was with sex. Miguel had the stamina to go on for hours. You always joked that it would not help with stress, but Miguel always said otherwise.
Tonight...Miguel said that he wanted to try something new.
"You look exhausted, Miguel. Want me to set the bath first?" You offered as Miguel entered your place through the window.
"Not yet," Miguel sighed heavily, taking his mask off and embracing you with a deep kiss, "I would like to destress first."
"Hehe, such a brat," You teased, "So, what did you want to try?"
"Hmm," Miguel had his suit disappear as he hovered over you on the bed, "I'm going to say a lot of bad things, mi amor (my love). Just remember I don't mean it."
"Ahhhh, dirty talk," You chuckled, taking your pajamas off, "Want me to call you, Daddy?"
"Hn,"
Miguel grunted softly as he captured your lips in a deep kiss. His hands groping your body as he placed himself between your legs. You could feel Miguel's erection as he rubbed his dick against your damp panties.
"What a naughty girl. Already so wet and I barely did anything."
You shuddered towards his words, finding this rather exciting. Miguel being mean to you while having sex might be a good idea after all. Gasping softly, you arched your back as Miguel started to rub against you rougher.
"Aye, mi putita linda (my pretty little slut). Want my dick that bad, huh? Want to be my fuck toy?"
"Mhm, yes~" You cooed.
Miguel chuckled as he ripped your panties off with his talons. You gasped, glaring towards him.
"Miguel! I just bought those!"
"Did I give you permission to speak?" Miguel asked with a raised brow.
Leaning down, Miguel started to gently bite your shoulders. He knew he couldn't bite down fully or his venom would paralyze you. Perhaps that would be something for another time.
"Tell me what it is you want." Miguel demanded as the tip of his dick poked at your throbbing hole.
"Mhm..."
"Speak. What does my pretty little fuck doll want?" Miguel taunted, biting your shoulder again.
Who would have thought this was so hot?
"Your dick," You begged, shaking your hips slightly, "I want your dick."
You gasped as Miguel gave you what you wanted. He threw your legs over his shoulder and inserted his large dick into your pussy. You moaned at the feeling of being stretched out, ready for another long night of passionate sex.
"So tight. Just for me," Miguel groaned as he started to thrust his hips into you, "Tell me, (Y/N), what are you good for?"
"Ah~ Hah~ Y-Your dick!" You cried out, his fast pace already making a mess of you, "T-To please you!"
"Your slutty pussy belongs to me. See how well you're sucking my dick in? So fucking naughty," Miguel chuckled.
Your core started to burn as Miguel kept insulting you. His rough thrusts matching his harsh words, making you wet with each one. His grip was tight against your waist, making sure you wouldn't squirm away from his thrusts.
"Fuck, look at you. A horny mess. Tell me, you like how my dick destroys you, right?"
"Y-Yes!" You moaned, flinching as you felt your orgasm appraoching.
"That's right. Keep sucking my dick with these tight lips. You're going to drink every last drop of my cum, right (Y/N)?"
"Yes! Yes!"
Miguel's dick was abusing your pussy. His tip kissing your cervix as his balls slapped against your burning core. You felt his dick twitch inside you as your orgasm began to wash over you. Crying his name out, you moaned breathlessly as he unloaded inside you.
"Tired already? I'm no where near done with you."
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You were on your knees, face pressed against the pillow as nothing but moans escaped your lips. You lost track of time and the amount of times Miguel has cummed inside you. His pace was still ongoing, but you were losing stamina.
"Done already?" Miguel questioned with a slap of your ass.
"Hn~"
"Your pussy is still begging for more. Let me guess, you want to get pregnant, do you? To have my baby?" Miguel chuckled, his hips thrusting faster, "You better not spill anything after this load, (Y/N). Si lo haces, no tendré más remedio que convertirte en mi basurero de esperma. Convertirte en una madre muy pronto. (If you do, I'll have no choice but to turn you into my cum dumpster. Make a mother out of you really soon.)"
You couldn't even understand what Miguel was saying. All you felt was your body give into one more explosion of pleasure as you saw stars. You swore that this was the moment you entered heaven, since you couldn't think anymore.
Miguel panted heavily as he held onto you for a moment longer. His dick finally falling limp after cumming inside you again. Slowly pulling out, Miguel was careful to lay you down. You body twitched as you slept soundly.
"Aye, my lovely (Y/N)." Miguel whispered, kissing your head, "You spoil me too much."
Getting the shower ready, Miguel returned to retrieve you. His eyes wandered your body, admiring his work. So many of his marks on you. Focusing on your cunt, Miguel's lips twitched into a smirk as his cum started to flow out of you.
"I owe you an apology after this," He chuckled, carrying you into the bathroom, "Perhaps after I get you pregnant."
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Hope you enjoyed!!!
Kinktober 2023 Masterlist
Kinktober 2024 Masterlist
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nochepsicodelica · 6 hours ago
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NSFW
Under the covers sex with Toji where it would literally just look like a shaking lump of blankets if it weren't for the sounds of moans, pants, grunts and the thump thump thump of the headboard hitting the wall. It's so hot and humid due to all the movement, the combination of your body heats, and the heavy breathing, but it's a reasonable price to pay for being allowed this level of intimacy.
You can barely see each other, but your ability to feel is your greatest advantage in this close quartered space. You can feel Toji's tacky skin firmly pressed against yours as he rocks both of you on the bed and Toji can feel the warning scratches of your nails on his back. You can feel every inch of his length as it nestles deep inside you with each of his thrusts and Toji can feel the way your walls attempt to suck him back in every time he reels back. You're able to absorb every praise he murmurs into your ear, while Toji is able to indulge in the sound of your sweet, sultry giggles when he starts sucking on your neck. There's an endless fountain of deep kisses loaded with your moans, Toji's deep groans, and your mingled heavy breaths.
The moment belongs to both of you. There are no fears or worries. It's just you and Toji, loving on each other, under a blanket in the dark. When you're on the brink of being entirely consumed by pleasure, Toji gives you all the encouragement in the form of hasty, needy touches and kerosene-fueled kisses that are laced with words that strike you like he's compelling you to cum. Not even ten seconds later, he's following, groaning and muttering curses into your neck with his entire body shuddering as he ruts his release into you.
You both just lay there like that for a few minutes as you wait for the room to still again, for your breathing to calm down and for your hearts to stop thumping in your ears. Once everything has settled, Toji pulls away from your neck and pokes his head out of the blanket. His hair is a mess from the constant rubbing of the blanket on his head, some of it is stuck to his forehead due to how much he's been sweating. You're on the same boat, so coming up for some air is nice. He leans forward and pecks your lips once, twice, and when you stay waiting for a third one, he admires your pout and smirks, before giving it to you.
Quiet sighs are released from you and Toji, when he finally pulls out. He tosses himself on the bed and pulls you into his side with ease, slinging his arm around you as you rest your head on his chest. From there, it's dirty, yet, affectionate murmurings, and soft laughter to help ward off sleep until you've showered and changed the bedding.
284 notes · View notes
squiddy-god · 2 days ago
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Giggling kicking my feet thinking about this
⚠︎slight spoilers for homicipher⚠︎
Ok ok so like,,, Mr gap (derogatory) seems to have more of an ability to wander, especially if his newspaper article is anything to go by
So I'm just thinking like,,, giving him a grocery list lmao
Mainly hair dye, because as a guy who loves to dye his hair, having gray hair is actually a massive++ cause I save on bleach lol
So either fumbling through words until you get too "me desire human thing... Human thing 'hair die'" and then proceeding to fumble until he finds the right things
Or finding a box of hair dye in the trash pit™ and showing it to him
This would obviously lead to shenanigans lol, I can think of a few with this arrangement ;
Teaching hairdresser to do hair dye <3 get that salon quality 💅💅💅
Mr chopped and Mr crawling going ∩( ✧Д✧)∩ every time you dye your hair a different color
One day gappy brings you dye that was your original hair color, que a very happy, very conflicted Mr silvair. One one hand, very pleased that this has recovered some of your likeness, on the other sad™ because now everyone is reminded of when you first came down here
Back to the silly- because there aren't really words for color if you want something specific you have to get creative
So for the most part it's random what colors you get
Until gappy brings you like splat red box dye...
Just about no one liked that lmao, especially Mr crawling who nearly had a heart attack
Yk who love it tho? Mr scarletella obviously :)
Also having Mr gap steal clothes for you and showing them to bride for inspiration
She would love Pinterest 😔
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redflowersociety · 2 days ago
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Reacting to you getting hit on - Mouthwashing HC
Includes all characters. Pretense of you being their partner (excluding Swansea, though he is included).
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Jimmy
He is beyond pissed off. Both at the person hitting on you for coming anywhere near what’s supposed to be his, and at you (as if it’s your fault for being perceived). He curses the person out, making it clear to them and everybody around that you’re HIS partner. He makes a show of it in front of this stranger to repair his ego after the event. He’s the type of guy to drag you away, and forcefully make out with you within eyeshot of the person. He made a point to push all the right buttons to get you melting into his touch and meeting all his demands. He knows how to get you subservient, and that fact reassures him of his control.
After this, though? Expect him to be extra insecure for the following days. He’s completely convinced that you’d try to wriggle out of his grasp given the chance, and he just couldn’t let that happen. So he doesn’t let you go out the house without him, and when you both *are* out, he’s always got a hand on you, never allowing you out of his grasp. He needs both you, and everyone around to know that you already belong to somebody: him.
Curly
Curly trusts you. For him to settle with you, he must have a connection strong enough to reassure him that he won’t be used for his kindness, so of course he trusts you. He watches as you gently turn down the stranger, standing by but never once moving his gaze off of you two (mostly you). If he notices the stranger doesn’t take the first no, he steps in. He doesn’t mean to make you feel like a damsel in distress in need of saving, but he can’t bring himself to stand by and watch you get harassed. He promised to himself he wouldn’t stand by instead of protecting those he cares for, so he won’t.
Overall, it doesn’t stick with him in a negative way. Instead, your handling of the situation reassures him that he’s your only interest.
Post Crash
Although he has the same mentality as pre-crash Curly, there is an extra piece: He is horribly insecure of his appearance, and all that it represents. He shared to you the events that transpired on the Tulpar as a way of holding himself accountable. Every moment that passes, the guilt and hatred of his body plants seeds of doubt into his mind: Anybody is more attractive and could provide for you better than him. His past with Jimmy doesn’t help these feeling either.
So, it’s safe to say that the situation sticks with him. It makes it harder for him to accept reassurance. It takes a long time, and a LOT of reassurance for him to move on from it.
Daisuke
Daisuke is completely trusting of your love for him, but not of his own abilities or accomplishments. So, when he sees a guy with expensive jewelry or a well-kept appearance trying to get your number, it stings his heart. It’s not jealousy, as he knows that he’s the only one you want: it’s shame. He feels shameful that he can’t the perfect guy for somebody so perfect (you).
It’s not hard to notice that he’s feeling down when you hurry towards him after the interaction. You pull him somewhere a bit more private and cup his squishy cheeks, asking him what’s got him so upset. He hesitates for a moment, but soon leaves his emotions in your hands with the tears in his eyes that he just can’t manage to keep back.
He’d spill his guts to you about his worries, how he feels inadequate. You would have expected this, seeing how hard he tries to impress Swansea for approval. With a whole heap of kisses all over his face and neck, and soft spoken reassurance and words of encouragement, he’ll be back on his feet in no time.
Anya
Anya struggles to accept that others may see her for more than her body. So when she sees a woman with a more conventionally attractive body or face than her own hitting on you��� she can’t help but feel a twinge of fear. Watching you reject the stranger kindly, however, reassured her again: she knew you weren’t that kind of person. You were never that shallow.
If a man happens to approach you, and won’t leave you alone, Anya pretends to be your sister or something similar to try to drive the man away. Safety in numbers, as they say. She’ll pull you away, and when times get desperate, it’ll be the first time you found out Anya never leaves her home without pepper spray!
Generally speaking, seeing you hit on doesn’t make her jealous or anything! She just wants you happy, letting your actions do the job at reminding her why she decided to give her heart to you.
Swansea
Who you share time with isn’t Swansea’s concern, he’s not your dad (or at least that’s what he tells himself)! But, if he did catch a glimpse of somebody making you uncomfortable…? Yeah, he’s stepping in and intimidating the shit out of the other person. Like hell he’d let some creep treat you that way when there’s something he can do about it!
If he caught you flirting back with someone, knowing you’ve got a partner… he’d definately be dissapointed.
Unless your partner was Jimmy. If it’s Jimmy, he’s hoping this stranger plays their cards right.
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ot8xbangchansgirlsblog · 3 days ago
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𝕃𝕦𝕟𝕒 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕟𝕖 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕨𝕠 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕣
Warning: Angst/mention of death/Blood/MPreg/MxM
A/B/O dynamics:
Omega (Han, Felix, Y/n)
Beta (Hyunjin, Seungmin, I.N)
Alpha (Chan, Changbin, Leeknow)
The series might traumatize you. I really hope you guys like it and enjoy it.
Summary - Request; I've just been reading your A/B/O series and it's so so so good. I was wondering if you would accept an ot8 request where their omega gets in trouble with another pack and Straykids are really worried?
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
"Would you like to see Han and Felix?" Hyunjin asked softly, his voice gentle as she rested against his chest. She had just gone through an intense session of cleaning her wounds, and the exhaustion was evident on her face. Her omega side, still unsettled, wasn’t allowing her to heal as quickly as she would have liked.
"C-can I see Han? I’m not sure about Felix," she murmured, glancing up at him, her eyes a little tired and distant. Hyunjin’s hands were slowly running through her hair, his touch tender and soothing.
"Why not Felix?" he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion as he studied her face. The uncertainty in her voice had him puzzled.
"I’m not ready to see him... just know that," she said quietly, avoiding his gaze. Her voice held a firmness, but it was clear there was more to the situation that she wasn’t ready to share.
Hyunjin felt a small shift in her scent—although it still carried that faint offness, it grew even more sour, tinged with something he couldn’t quite place.
"Alright, we don’t have to talk about it," he said softly, understanding that pressing her wasn’t going to help. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, the warmth of his lips offering a small comfort. He definitely knew the reason behind her reluctance—it was the pregnancy. He could piece it together now, the signs, the subtle shifts in her behavior. She was still processing it all, and he knew it wasn’t something she wanted to discuss just yet.
He kissed her forehead again, then slid his hand down to her lower back, rubbing soothing circles against her skin. His movements were slow and calming, trying to ease the tension in her body as she lay against him. He could feel her drifting, her body growing heavier with sleep.
"Rest now," he whispered softly. "I’ll be here when you wake up." And with that, he continued to gently caress her back, waiting patiently for her to fall into a peaceful slumber.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
"How is she doing?"
"She's gone back to sleep, Hyung," Hyunjin replied, his voice quiet as he closed Y/N's bedroom door behind him. The soft click of the door echoed in the stillness, but it did little to ease the heavy tension hanging in the air.
"Has she asked for anyone?" Leeknow’s voice trembled slightly, his posture stiff as he glanced anxiously at Hyunjin. His eyes were still a dull gray, and his concern was written all over his face. He hadn’t even tried to calm his own alpha down, knowing it would be pointless. The stress was too much, even for him.
"No, she asked for Han," Hyunjin sighed, rubbing his temples as they walked down the corridor, hand in hand. "Her wounds are taking a long time to heal. That's my worry," he continued, his tone weary and filled with concern.
"Do we need to bring one of the Umma's from the village?" Leeknow asked, looking up at the beta with desperation in his eyes. While Hyunjin was known as the best healer in the pack, the village grandmothers had been the ones tending to their kind for generations—long before Chan had taken over. They were old now, retired from their duties, but Leeknow would do whatever it took. If it meant tracking them down, he'd do it without hesitation.
"No, it’s okay, love," Hyunjin answered, giving Leeknow a soft look. "I can handle it. I just need to go through the ancestral scrolls and find something stronger." He knew that his own abilities had limits, but he was determined to make it work.
"This is serious, Hyunjin," Leeknow’s voice softened, his expression solemn. "Werewolves don't lose pups. If you need help..." He trailed off, his eyes searching Hyunjin's face, trying to gauge the weight of the situation.
For centuries, werewolves were known to have the strongest blood. Miscarriages and abortions were unheard of—something they all took for granted. This was a new, terrifying reality for Hyunjin. He’d never faced something like this before.
"Leeknow, I said it’s okay," Hyunjin snapped, his voice suddenly sharp. "Don’t question my abilities." He growled, stepping back from his alpha, frustration and fear bubbling beneath the surface.
"Hey, watch it," Leeknow’s voice darkened, a quiet warning. No one in the pack—especially not a beta—ever stepped up to him like that. Hyunjin's lip quivered at the reprimand, and finally, he broke.
"I’m sorry, Hyung," Hyunjin whispered, his shoulders sagging. "This is just so messed up. She's broken, completely... and she's slowly rejecting our bond. If she completely rejects us... we could—"
"No," Leeknow interrupted sharply, pulling Hyunjin into a hug. His arms wrapped tightly around him, trying to offer comfort. They sank down onto the bed together, Leeknow gently massaging Hyunjin’s scalp as they sat in silence. "Don't say that," he whispered, his voice cracking with fear. "We just need to find a way to get Chan in there without her... without her freaking out."
"She won’t allow it, she doesn't even want to see Felix because of the pup," Hyunjin said, his voice heavy with defeat. "Her omega is already convinced we did nothing to protect her. Don’t you feel it, babe?" He looked up at Leeknow, his eyes filled with sorrow. The burn in their marks was unmistakable—the sign that one of them was suffering deeply. In this case, it was Y/N.
"I know," Leeknow replied, his voice calm but tinged with sadness. "We’ll be okay, Hyunjin. We just need to figure out a way to keep Felix away for now." He wiped a stray tear from his cheek, trying to stay strong for both of them.
Hyunjin nodded, his hand absentmindedly rubbing the new tattoo on his arm—a symbol of the new life entering their pack. "I don’t know how she’ll handle seeing him. And he can’t seem to stop begging to see her," he said quietly. "I’m second in command, but right now, it feels like I’m failing," Leeknow sighed.
"We’re in this together," Hyunjin reassured him softly. "We just need to distract him—take him down to the streams or the village to play with the kids, or get him to do some charity work. Anything to keep him occupied."
"Yeah," Leeknow agreed, his voice low. "Right now, he's out shopping for the baby with I.N." He let out a small sigh. "At least he’s not here making things worse."
A heavy silence fell between them, thick with unspoken fears. They were still going to be dads, even though they had just lost one of their pups. The harsh reality was settling in—life had to move on, whether they were ready or not.
"Are Chan and Changbin Hyung back?" Hyunjin asked, trying to focus on something else, anything else.
"No," Leeknow replied. "They went with the hyungs to track and hunt the rogues. They told me to stay and watch over everything." So that was where Chan and Changbin had disappeared to—off with the elders, tracking rogues in the forest.
"Alright," Hyunjin said, standing up and stretching. "I’m going to go check on her again. If you find Han, tell him to come, but only if he's strong enough." Hyunjin let go of Leeknow's hand slowly, his fingers lingering for a moment.
"Okay," Leeknow said, his voice firm, though still quiet. "Be strong for me, okay? I’m just down the stairs if you need me." He gave Hyunjin a final look, his aura shifting to something darker, more protective.
"Okay, Hyung. I love you."
"I love you too," Leeknow replied, his voice soft but steady.
When Leeknow finally found Han, he was in the kitchen with Seungmin, both of them busy preparing food for their mates. The smell of freshly cooked dishes filled the room, but Leeknow wasn’t focused on that. He had something important to say.
"Hey, Hannie?" Leeknow called out, his voice soft but urgent.
Han immediately looked up, his large eyes filled with hope and concern.
"Yes, Hyung, is she okay? Does she need anything? Do you need anything?" Han stopped what he was doing, his full attention now on Leeknow, worry evident in his voice.
Leeknow paused for a moment before responding, his own heart heavy with the weight of what needed to be done.
"Babe, I think it's time for you to go try talking to her," Leeknow informed him gently but firmly.
Han's eyes widened, and he took a step back, shaking his head slightly as panic started to creep in. "Are you sure? Is it not too early? What if she panics? What if I make it worse?" His hands were shaking, his chest pounding with nerves, and he felt the pull of his omega instincts—loud and demanding.
Go. Go. Omega needs us. Mate needs us. Now.
Han's eyes flickered gold, his omega taking control, the familiar surge of instinct filling his veins.
"She needs you, Han. She needs an omega by her side," Leeknow said, his voice calm but filled with quiet conviction. "I believe in you."
Han didn’t hesitate any longer. His omega instincts were too strong, and his heart ached knowing Y/N needed him. He quickly gathered his thoughts and began to pack away the food, giving Seungmin a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving for upstairs.
The walk to her door felt like an eternity. His mind raced, unsure of what to say or do. He grabbed anything he could find—clothes from different rooms—knowing he needed to build a nest for her. He was determined to make her feel safe, to make her feel loved.
When Han finally reached the door, the room was dark, the only light coming from a dimly lit lamp on the nightstand. Y/N was in the center of the bed, Hyunjin holding her close, his hand gently stroking her hair. Han stood there for a moment, gathering his thoughts, before Hyunjin looked up at him and nodded, signaling for him to come closer.
Y/N stirred as she felt a new presence in the room. Her senses were sharp, and as soon as she caught the new scent—one that was familiar and comforting—her heart skipped. She didn’t know what to expect. The fear of rejection still clung to her. She was certain that they might hate her now, that they might blame her.
When her golden eyes met Han’s, all her worries seemed to collapse. Without thinking, she bolted upright, her hands reaching out toward him. The moment their eyes met, her tears began to fall freely, her body shaking with the weight of her emotions.
"Hannie," she sobbed, her voice breaking as she reached for him. "Please... I don’t know if you’re angry at me... Please don’t hate me."
Han’s heart shattered at the sight of her, her vulnerability hitting him harder than he expected. He wasted no time. Without a second thought, he crawled into the bed beside her, throwing the clothes he had gathered into Hyunjin’s hands. He wrapped his arms around her, scenting her gently but urgently. He wanted to erase any trace of the pain and trauma still clinging to her scent, to make her feel safe and loved again.
"I’m sorry," she whispered, her voice hoarse as she clung to him, desperately needing his presence, his comfort.
"Shhh," Han murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "There’s no reason for you to apologize. This is not your fault." He cupped her face gently, staring deep into her eyes, his own eyes filled with sorrow. "I’m so sorry this happened to you," he whispered, placing a tender kiss on her forearm. All she could do was cry. She had missed him so much.
"I love you," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, but the weight of the words was clear.
"I love you too," Han replied, his voice firm and full of resolve. "Forever, okay? I’m never letting you out of my sight. Whoever did this to you... I hope Chan Hyung rips their head off and keeps it as a trophy."
Y/N couldn’t help but let out a shaky breath, her scent slightly souring as she pulled him closer. "I’m okay now, Han. I promise," she whispered, trying to convince herself as much as him. "As long as I’m back home, that’s all that matters now."
Han’s heart twisted with guilt. She wasn’t angry at them, wasn’t holding any of this against them. She was trying so hard to stay strong, even though it was clear that she was breaking inside. He just couldn’t understand why she wasn’t angry with them for not protecting her, for not doing more. But right now, none of that mattered. He just wanted to hold her. He just wanted her to feel safe.
He pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair, allowing himself to just feel her. "I’m not going anywhere, Y/N," he whispered.
"I'm sitting right in the corner if you need me," Hyunjin said softly, his voice laced with concern as he sat quietly by the door.
Y/N sniffled, her eyes swollen from the tears she had cried. She looked up at him, her face twisted with a mixture of exhaustion and vulnerability. "Hyunjinnie, go get some real rest," she urged, her voice gentle but firm. "Eat something, take a hot shower, and nap. I promise, I’m right here with Han."
Hyunjin shook his head, his eyes soft but unwavering. "Y/N, I told you I wouldn’t leave."
She sighed, her gaze softening as she reached for his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. "You’re not leaving," she assured him, her voice growing steadier. "I’m right here with Han. You’ve been working nonstop, looking after everyone. Please, take care of yourself; I promise nothing will happen."
Hyunjin stood still for a moment, taken aback by how calm and composed she sounded now. It gave him a flicker of hope, but the worry still gnawed at him. He felt the weight of everything, the endless worry and exhaustion, but hearing Y/N speak so firmly made him feel a bit more confident in leaving her alone for a while. Still, he hesitated.
"Okay... I’ll be back in a bit," Hyunjin finally said, his voice a bit strained. "Han, if anything happens, call me." His eyes lingered on Y/N one last time before he leaned down to kiss both of them on the forehead.
"I will, trust me, Hyung," Han reassured, his voice calm but filled with an undercurrent of concern. Hyunjin gave one last glance to the pair, the tension in his chest easing slightly. As he exited the room, he felt a small sense of relief knowing Y/N was opening up to Han. That was a step in the right direction.
Once the door clicked shut behind him, Han let out a slow breath, turning back to Y/N. His voice softened, almost a whisper, as he gazed down at her. "Baby," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "How come I can't feel you in the bond anymore?" The question had been haunting him for hours, and now it was out in the open.
Y/N’s eyes flickered, her breath hitching as she looked up at him. The bond between them had been a silent connection, one that had always been there, pulsing with warmth and reassurance. But now... it was nothing but a cold, distant feeling.
"I don't want you to feel my pain," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Felix is pregnant... That would put a strain on him, and I just can't handle the alphas right now. I don't want to deal with all of it." She closed her eyes, trying to keep herself composed, but the ache in her chest was impossible to ignore.
Han’s heart ached as he gently ran his fingers through her hair, his touch soft and soothing. "Oh, but you know that Chan and the alphas never meant to hurt you," he said quietly. "They’ve been beating themselves up over it, not forgiving themselves for what happened. They’ve been looking for you nonstop, Y/N."
"I don’t want to talk about it," she whispered, shaking her head, her body tense against him. "Haven’t I been through enough?" Her voice trembled as she nuzzled her face into his collarbone, seeking solace in his scent.
Han paused, the weight of her words sinking in. "Yes, you have," he said softly, his voice filled with guilt. "I’m sorry." He held her close, his heart heavy with the knowledge that she was still carrying the weight of everything that had happened. "But you’ll have to face Felix eventually," he said, his tone gentle but firm. "He’s been really worried about you."
Y/N stiffened at the mention of Felix, her hands instinctively moving to her stomach. The emptiness that had settled in her chest the moment they lost their pup seemed to fill her again, like an overwhelming wave of grief. "I’m just not ready," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I can’t bear to see him carrying our pup."
Han’s heart clenched painfully at her words. "Our pup," he corrected softly, as though trying to remind her, to ground her in the reality that they still had a future, that they still had each other. "Don’t forget... you’re still the mother of that baby." The words felt heavy, but they needed to be said.
Y/N shuddered, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks as she turned her face away from him. "Han, please... enough," she pleaded, her voice trembling with the weight of it all. "I can’t take it."
"Shhh," Han whispered, pulling her closer into his embrace. His heart was breaking at the sight of her distress, and guilt gnawed at him for bringing it all up. "It’s okay, get some rest." He gently rubbed her back, trying to comfort her. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I know I’ve made it worse."
The guilt in his chest was suffocating, and his omega instincts were furious at him for making her cry, for causing her even more pain.
"Please... be patient with me," she murmured, her voice barely audible now as she drifted into a fitful sleep, the exhaustion from everything weighing her down.
Han stayed still, watching her with pained eyes, his hand resting gently on her back. As she slowly drifted off, he kissed her forehead softly, his heart breaking in his chest. "I’m so sorry," he whispered to her, his voice full of love and regret. "I’ll be here. Always."
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
"Where's Han?" was the first question I.N asked when they all sat down for dinner. His eyes quickly scanned the room, but the empty seat beside him didn’t go unnoticed.
"He's upstairs with Y/n," Hyunjin answered, clearing his throat, trying to keep his tone casual.
"He's with Y/n?" Felix perked up immediately, his eyes widening in surprise. "How come? Did she ask for me?" His voice was hopeful, almost eager, but it was clear he didn’t fully understand the situation.
Hyunjin glanced over at Lee Know, seeking some help in explaining the situation. Lee Know, sensing the tension, stepped in.
"S-she… uh, right now we just don’t want to overwhelm her, so we sent Han in to check on her," Hyunjin said, his voice faltering slightly. He couldn’t help but feel a sharp pang of guilt in his chest for lying, even if it was to keep things calm.
"Oh..." Felix frowned, his shoulders slumping. "Can I go in next?" he asked, his voice filled with concern, his food now completely forgotten. The worry in his tone was impossible to ignore.
"How about we finish dinner first?" Lee Know interjected smoothly, "Then we’ll see if she’s awake."
Felix nodded reluctantly, but let out a sigh of frustration. "Okay, that's fine. I just really hope she’s okay," he muttered, looking down at his untouched plate.
"How was shopping?" Hyunjin asked, eager to change the subject and distract everyone from the tension surrounding Y/n.
"It was okay," Felix replied, though he seemed distracted. "I just wish you guys could’ve come. I wonder when Chan and Changbin-hyung will be back," he pouted, poking at his food absentmindedly.
"Eat, babe, you haven’t been eating," I.N scolded softly, noticing how little Felix had touched his meal. Felix let out a tiny whimper, not expecting to be called out.
"I’m not hungry…" Felix mumbled, his gaze shifting from his food to his mates.
"Eat," Seungmin teased, his voice light but firm. "I worked hard on this."
Felix couldn’t help but smile, the teasing tone breaking through his mood. "Okay, for you, I will," he replied, taking a small bite of his food, though his mind was clearly still elsewhere.
The room went silent again as everyone fell into their own thoughts, the tension still lingering like an unspoken weight.
Suddenly, Lee Know’s posture stiffened, and his chopsticks clattered to the table as he stood up abruptly. His instincts were on high alert as he felt the bond feel heavy. His alpha was urging him to go outside.
Someone was on their territory.
"They’re home," he said, his voice sharp with urgency.
Without waiting for anyone else, he bolted for the door, his footsteps echoing through the house.
"Hyung wait up!" Hyunjin was right behind him, and the rest of the group slowly stood up, following in a mix of confusion and concern.
When Lee Know reached the driveway, his eyes went wide. He saw Chan and Changbin coming down the path, both of them covered in blood, their faces exhausted and drained. Their clothes were torn, and it was clear they had just been through something rough.
"What the hell?" Lee Know gasped, rushing to support Chan, while Hyunjin quickly stepped in to help Changbin.
"What happened?" Hyunjin asked, his voice tight with worry, his hand resting on Changbin's shoulder to steady him.
Chan gave a weary glance at his mates, blood dripping from a cut on his arm, but his lips remained pressed into a thin line as if he wasn’t sure whether to explain or keep quiet. The silence between them only deepened the worry growing in the others.
Lee Know glanced at Hyunjin, his expression grim. "We need to get them inside," he muttered, helping Chan to steady himself as they slowly made their way inside. The rest of the group followed behind, trying to make sense of the situation but knowing it would have to wait until later.
"we killed them."
well...fuck.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
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doodlesfromthebird · 13 hours ago
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I'm just going to establish that the large boy is Mattheus and the willowy halloween gremlin is Kassian. sO. THERES A FACT.... Kassian has ghostly powers, including a limited ability to phase through objects. He can't phase mundane clothing on his back or other people. He phases through walls so often he forgets which doors are "pull" or "push". Theres typically a bit of confusion when he HAS to use one. MORE FACTS UNDER CUT!
Mattheus' super strength developed as a child and it was a difficult thing for him to control. He accidentally broke a bone in one of his brothers hands when playing and he felt so awful he wore oven mitts on his hands for a week, as if it would lessen the effects of his strength
Mattheus loves olives and Kassian loathes them entirely, so whenever offered some he'll give them to Mattheus. Kassian will finish whatever sweets Mattheus can' if the sweets are too rich.
Kassian has unnecessarily swoopy cursive for handwriting. Mattheus has very sharp and scratchy, large print. (His "S"'s all look like lightning bolts. It's very cute.)
Mattheus is the tallest person in his family. He's 6'5" (almost 200 cm) the second tallest is his brother, Torin at 5'7 (abt 173cm) by a few cm. Mattheus towers over everyone in his family.
Kassian is allergic to the entire season of Spring. Pollen is constantly assaulting his sinuses, he gets eaten alive by bugs, and he swears the springtime sun gives him hives. (it doesn't, he's being drama queen)
Neither of them get much of an opportunity to do artsy hobbies, but Mattheus is fairly skilled in pottery and ceramics, and kassian likes drawing flowers and dabbles in candle-making.
they're both monster-hunting partners that specialize in exterminating a very particular kind of monster. Kassian is a mage that specializes in dark and illusion magic where Mattheus is a fighter that specializes in two-handed heavy weapons. They're very good at it.
Yes, they've done the thing where Mattheus does pushups and Kassian sits on his back.
Kassian is very open with his expressions, (he's my muse for intense expression drawing) and body-language. He's very theatrical, but he's easily embarrassed and quick to shrink in on himself. Mattheus is outwardly very stoic but is actually very passionate and softhearted.
Mattheus is what people in their world call a "young god". It's a very demigod inspired concept, where god-like traits are given to humans via gods/guardians as a sort of "blessing" if a particular family was favored by a divine being, or if the human themself was favored. Mattheus (and his sis Mainara) was blessed by two sibling gods because they favored his mother's side (long story, but in short they both had the hots for his grandmother) to which his parents were like..."uh thanks i guess??"
Kassian is the kind of person who doesn't give pencils back/puts empty containers of food back in the pantry when he's done. Mattheus drinks milk out of the carton and sneezes unnecessarily loud. Both can cook, but they both wait til they have no clothes left to do laundry.
The way they fight relies on a sort of linking of mind and energy (the closest I can think of is "drift compatibility") in a way that grounds the other as sort of an anchor. It balances Kass's sensitivity to spiritual noise and Mattheus's grounded and focused nature.
Kassian easily picks up on hidden magical frequencies mattheus can't, and Mattheus's senses are heightened to "real world" sounds and smells Kassian can't detect. Mattheus is a good strategist/planner/tracker and Kassian can slither into places to scout.
Mattheus loves all animals but especially dogs. Big dogs. Kassian is a little skittish and hesitant around living things smaller than him, but typically likes quiet animals like cats and rabbits. Big animals love HIM though and he's been knocked over by many a large dog/creature
Kassian is 25 (December 24th) Mattheus is 23 (August 30th) [he often gets "you're a lot younger than you look" I think if you get to know him a little bit and the first impression of his height & strong features fade, you kind of see he still has a boyishness to his face]
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sunnywalnut · 10 hours ago
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THANK YOU.
Tbh I did not expect you to actually respond and add to this post, but I am THOROUGHLY grateful you have. But I also would like to inform you(and anyone else that's uncertain about their ability to repost this)
Self diagnosis is valid.
Being officially diagnosed is a luxury.
Often one that is usually only given to those that show extreme or undeniable traits. And even then, you still could be denied.
I was 12 when I was diagnosed with autism. People have known something was "off" since I was 4.
I was able to feel the sideways curves in my spine and see that my shoulders were uneven before I got diagnosis for "mild" scoliosis at 19, after living a life complaining of back and rib pain.
I've felt my joints, all the way from my fingers to my toes, all fall out of place since I was 10, often times having to have my own mother massage my knees back into place so that I could walk, and even spraining my ankles simply going upstairs. All of which fell on deaf ears for the entire 20+ years of my life despite countless professionals, from muscular skeletal to rheumatoid specialists and even physical therapists confirming that I have hEds and possibly early signs of rheumatoid arthritis. And yet they still cannot diagnose it because they "can't treat it"
And the reason I say all of this is because I used to worry the same thing. If maybe by claiming this diagnosis as my own, that somehow I was doing something wrong. Or taking something away from someone else. However, I want to let you all in on a little secret.
If you're actively experiencing symptoms, you're not faking it.
You might label the symptoms wrong, yes, but that doesn't mean that they're not there. People get officially misdiagnosed all the time! Because a lot of medical things have a bunch of overarching symptoms that overlap! And you could have so many things going on all at once!
And sure. You're not a doctor. So you might miss something or assign too much importance to it, but that's fine! You're allowed to make mistakes!
Unless you are actively pushing a harmful narrative or making life harder for them, you are not taking anything away from those who are officially diagnosed.
Wear your headphones in public, ask your friend to lower the music, buy a shower chair and lie to the cashier telling them it's for your grandma, pick up a super fluffy stuffed animal just because the texture is calming, take a look at the cool little canes at the thrift shop, do whatever helps you.
There's enough headphones and shower chairs and weighted stuffed animals for the rest of us to enjoy. You're not wasting anything that you find useful. And also, sometimes your friends are just slightly deaf and used to feeling the bass shake their entire car. It's okay to tell them that you're not.
It's okay to ask for some help bringing your groceries out to the car.
It's okay to ask someone to repeat what they said a third time.
It's okay to ask if you can see something again to make sure that you understand.
It's okay to tell people you'd rather not be touched right now.
It's okay to tell people that you want to be touched after telling them previously not to!
It's okay! And this even goes for nondisabled people too! Please reblog this post, even if you have nothing to say or add. Because maybe then, it might find it's way to somebody else who needs it. Whether that be a friend or loved one, a beloved moot, a follower, or just some random homie who comes across it by chance.
Even if you just like the way things are said, or think that the words are nice, that's more than enough reason to throw this post on your blog.
So go for it.
Press the nice shiny button.
Be an ally.
I dare you.
Local PSA: invisible disability does NOT mean you can live your life like a "normal person" invisible disability meant that if a stranger looks at you in public they wouldn't know what's going on.
Like if a wheelchair user were to decide to run into a corner store to grab a candy bar because they know that their legs can last that long without, the cashier wouldn't know.
Or someone with "mild" scoliosis walking upright through their shoulder leans slightly to the left. Maybe they just have bad posture. The lady in the next isle thinks to herself.
The person with EDS or POTS or whatever sort of condition wearing compression gloves out and about. Perhaps it's a fashion statement?
Or what about the people with intestinal issues? They can look like "normal people" too.
You never know what someone is going through.
You never know what they might need to survive or if they're on the edge of a flare up or even if they are currently going through one just by one look.
I think both disabled and non disabled need to realize this. You're not "no longer disabled" because you can "live without" disability aids. They're there to help you. To make your life easier. If living without a cane is going to make it more likely you'll fall over and hurt yourself, use the cane.
If you need to sit down to do dishes or cut vegetables because you need to save your legs for taking out the trash, sit down.
If you need a shower chair because you don't know if you'll pass out, use the shower chair.
People are going to judge you regardless for multiple reasons out of your control.
I'd rather they judge you while you're being safe.
You don't need to struggle to be "normal."
You can just be you.
However that looks for you.
Use your disability aids.
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rizsu · 17 hours ago
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ꪆ୧ ── WISH UNATTAINABLE ┊ A MERE DREAM ﹑ HSR ⤿ starring: boothill ◟ sunday ◟ dr. ratio.
꒰ a player's mission ﹢ ding! quest(s) unlocked. to obtain a reward of 100 stellar jades, knock yourself out with missions involving your favourite! don't get caught up in the dream though.
𖧷 · love, ‘su: i clearly had an idea & needed to jot it down before i forgot about it (old draft i wrote when i js was fresh into hsr bear w me 😢)
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COSMIC SPLENDOR AND MERITED PRAISES ⟡ siobhan’s revealed that someone's here for you, insisting for you to not be a killjoy and come meet him.
“drink's on me sweetheart, knock ya'self out,” boothill slides the cocktail at you, giving his signature smirk as its free side dish.
you're not quite sure what you expected, but boothill being a bartender wasn't one of them. actually — it's believable when you think about it.
when siobhan sent you those messages, your mind went to either gallagher or aventurine. (un)fortunately, your guess was wrong. you are now a taste-tester and subjected to subtle flirting? a win is a win.
boothill puts a hand on his hip. he mixed the drink gracefully with siobhan's aid, it's bound to be perfect — hopefully.
“what's it called?” you asked, turning the glass around to appreciate the red and orange ombre. it reminds you of someone, but you can't put a finger on it.
“didn't think that far into it.” he shrugs. “you can name it, sweetheart.”
“i can name it sweetheart?”
“no, i meant... well, why the fuck not.”
you're sure you heard a disappointed sigh from him. maybe it's the alcohol? whatever, it tastes good. the drink's sweet, but it leaves a bitter aftertaste — if that makes sense. it's so sweet that you keep sipping, yet it's so bitter that you're reminded it's alcohol and not juice. a perfect balance.
gently placing the glass down, you slid it towards boothill, “another glass please, gentleman.”
“right away, darlin’,” he accepts your request, refilling your glass with the sweetheart special. this time, he adds a little edible glitter in the mix to spice up the aesthetic.
the glass is once again slid back to you. the only difference is a shine to the liquid. the new beauty to it can make even argenti fall to his knees to worship it (he worships anything beautiful).
“it's so good i can kiss you for it,” you mindlessly reply, licking your lips from the excess liquid.
goodness, do you want him to overheat? is the way to defeat a galaxy ranger a compliment without thought put into it?!
“pfft— uh— well—” he sputters, unable to form a proper sentence yet.
a few coughs later, he regains his ability to speak, “it's just that good ain't it, darlin’?”
“you're the best and i need you in the express to make fifteen of these,” with desperation in your voice, you lean over to hold his hand. it's cold, but not cold enough to make you back away.
“i'll be right with ya!”
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THE INTERPRETATION OF DREAMS ⟡ you received an anonymous message urging you to come to penacony. it felt like a scam, but the messages were too prim and proper to be one.
hmm, something isn't right. you can feel it in your bones. either you're experiencing side effects of being on cleaning duty, or you're being hunted down. has your excellence finally exceed you to the point where you've appeared on someone's hitlist? maybe.
staring at the message on your phone, you squint at it before moving your head away. you must be careful or else you'd be affected by its ominous energy.
there's only one logical decision to make: find dan heng and let him decipher a possible hidden code in the messages.
“dan heng, i need you!” you exclaimed, opening his room's door with a force that should only be reserved for battles.
“did you clean your manners out too?” sighing, dan heng closes the book he's reviewing.
“i think i'm being kidnapped,” ignoring his snarky comments, you enter his room, showing him the pile of messages.
> Hello, (y/n). I trust that you've been well during your trips.
> Have you decided on whether you'll return to Penacony? If not, I hope that you come soon.
> There is something I wish to do with you.
> Meet me at The Reverie Hotel 10 system hours from when you reply. I shall accompany you directly instead of a regular staff.
> That is all. I'll keep the conversations for our meeting.
you shake your head, hugging your body in attempts to shield yourself.
“see! there's no way that isn't someone out to get me.”
dan heng falls silent. clearly, this is someone you've met before, but who? they haven't left any name, let alone a profile icon. there's only one way to find out and that's to reply.
“hand me your phone, i'll reply.”
...
have you been deceived? is dan heng in on this too? why would he reply? suspicion dominates over you. you slowly back away from his side.
“damn... they really do say your enemies are close.”
“that's now how it... whatever. just give me the phone so i can ask for their identity.” his tone's laced with disappointment. he's not surprised, but boy was he wrong for thinking you matured.
being left with no other choice, you surrender your phone and safety to him.
< Sorry, who are you?
< I'm sure we've met though.
“they're typing...” he mutters, leaning into your side so you can see the screen too.
> My apologies. I forgot to set my account.
> This is Sunday, head of the Oak Family.
“sunday?!”
“sunday!?”
this time you both were taken by surprise. out of everyone in penacony that would've sent you a text, he was the least expected. dan heng shoots you a pitiful look. he's pretty sure sunday's still on your hitlist.
“i am not going.”
“it's rude to ignore someone's request.”
“dan heng,” you began, folding your arms across your chest, “you can't make me go.”
in response dan heng simply nods. he walks out his room and into the main area. you're not sure what he did, but he came back to you lounging on his bed in five minutes.
you were already comfortable, with one knee up and a foot on the knee. you expected him to come back, but not with a trusted adult.
“are you serious?”
“himeko, (y/n)'s ignoring someone's request to meet.”
one corner of his mouth moves up. he knows he won this battle. snitching is the way to go, always.
and that's how you're now standing besides sunday. all stiff with nervous laughs, praying to whichever aeon that he doesn't use the telepathy punishment thing on you. it's game over and restart if he ever dares to.
sunday's as poise as ever — with a hand behind his back, he observes the view of oti mall below. it's bustling with life; the noise is enough to do all the talking. truly a one-sided comfortable silence.
“so... how's life been, sunday?” you tread carefully with your question and behaviour. you don't even make eye contact.
sunday smiles slightly, “it's been busy as ever. this is probably the only moment of peace in my schedule.”
and it's silent again. how do you continue a conversation with a bigshot? you ran your mouth with the supreme guardian of belobog but god forbid you're with the head of the oak family. scary.
cold sweat drops. you have got to keep the conversation going or you'll lose your mind in seven minutes.
“been getting into gambling with the slot machines lately. what about you?”
perfect. ten out of ten. a penacony-related addiction.
“i see you've picked up that ipc stoneheart's behaviour.”
okay, maybe it wasn't that perfect. and was that disappointment?!
it's silent again. you steal a glance of sunday and it did not help. he has a relaxed expression on his face. his chest rising and falling with every breath. is he truly comfortable with the silence? you're dying here.
a sigh leaves you. why not just speak your mind.
“to be honest, it's a little uncomfortable being so silent. i feel like i'm being watched by that large eye in the mall.”
sunday's head turns, his expression slightly changes.
“apologies, i did not notice. would you like to take a walk together?” he suggests, holding his palm out to you.
you place your hand in his, trying to hide the smile. you're finally going to do something instead of standing like an npc.
“yeah, sure.”
after your approval, you basically re-toured penacony. he even took you to his office. that's not even the biggest part. the huge wow factor here is that you were hand-in-hand with him. yes, hands intertwined with the most handsome man in penacony. someone should be jealous.
although his hand was gloved it still counts. the gloves are thin anyway — it was basically skin contact. had you known beforehand that sunday's hand was this manly you wouldn't have even complained to dan heng.
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COSMIC SPLENDOR AND MERITED PRAISES ⟡ herta bothered you to return to her station, insisting that she needs your help. you reluctantly agreed, but didn't expect to meet the doctor you've been hitting on.
> Come. I need to experiment on you.
< Excuse me?!?
> Aeon stuff.
< Which Aeon is it?
< Herta?
< Hellooooo... Anyone there...?
> [Automatic reply] Hi, I'm currently unavailable, and won't be contacting you later.
< You've got to be kidding me.
> [Automatic reply] Hi, I'm currently unavailable, and won't be contacting you later.
a heavy sigh leaves you. new day, same old herta demanding your presence and going off the net. well, it's been a while since you've revisited herta's space station, and it doesn't hurt gaining new knowledge on aeons. hopefully it'd be quick... and that screwllum's there as well. out of the three, screwllum's the sole one that's gentle.
once you stepped foot in her office, you stepped right back out. seeing someone you've been avoiding to reply to their messages certainly isn't a good thing. the chances of the man you were testing your charisma on being with herta is low — incredibly low — but never zero.
“come here, (y/n).” a voice filled with authority calls for you who's standing to the side of the door.
you purposefully chose that position; since the doors are automatic, they'd immediately open if you were directly in front of it.
“no, thanks!” you yelled, preferring to stay where its safe from confrontations.
inside the office, herta folds her arms. the clock is ticking, and she doesn't want to lose interest before she can glimpse the secret of at least one aeon.
“just go get her. what're you standing there for?”
with a tone as blunt as that, ratio feels slightly offended, but he can't argue. she's right, he can simply bring you back inside the office.
confidentally walking towards the door, he steps out and immediately turns his head left. it was as he calculated: you were right there leaning against the wall, trying your best to act nonchalant while ignoring his obvious presence.
“don't act childish.” disappointment laces his voice, his folded arms shows it, too.
“whatever do you mean, doctor?” you smiled.
ratio's having none of it. he moves his position to stand in front of you, forcing you to look at him instead.
“your behaviour then and now is childish. get back in the office.”
“cut me some slack! do you think the courage i have over text translates to real life?” your defenses raise, poking his chest to enforce your point. “you're intimidating and handsome, dude. give me a break.”
a silence follows. the kind of silence that indicates you said something you definitely should've kept as a thought. nervously, you move your eyes to look at ratio's. the eye contact doesn't last long — like you said, he's intimidating (and handsome).
“tell me something i don't know.” ratio breaks the silence, grabbing your finger off his chest. “but that's not the point here, is it? we have something to do.”
mood: ruined. it's common knowledge to anyone who's been in a conversation with ratio that he's well aware of his visuals. compliments are nothing new to him — it's a shame he didn't act the way he did in your daydreams.
“gosh, you're so annoying.” a voice of defeat.
grumbling, you straightened your posture, making your way back to herta's office. ratio followed behind, observing the you walked. has someone walking always been attractive, or is it just because it's you? a question that he'll be pondering on until he finds a suitable answer.
“hey. you guys took too long. i don't wanna do it again,” herta complains the second she saw you two walk in.
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thefusioncelestial · 2 days ago
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Mix 8: The Rugged Pop Star
Anonymous asked:
Hello, Love your stories and I love the merge thing. Now, you see, I've got a huge crush on Charlie Puth and I was wondering if you could merge me with him? That would be awesome to be able to live that. I'm a pretty tall guy, kinda hairy on the chest, black hair and dark brown eyes. I wonder what I would look like after.
Can you help me? Your price will be mine!
Another successful show for the mega successful pop star:
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Life is good, life is perfect, it would be.
Charlie found out about prowlers: celebrities born from jealous people forcibly assimilating the target of their ire & living the dream they worked so hard to obtain. He himself was almost a victim to this after a typical LA party. Some preppy kid wanted his fame for himself. Charlie knew that something had to be done. He needed a defense against this phenomenon.
With his money & connections, he able to find out how others are doing it. His heart sank. He would only need to do it once, but he would need to assimilate another. This would give him a natural defense against predation attempts on him, like a vaccine. But who? He would be taking away someone's right to live their life independently & of their own free will.
He heard of stories of celebrities losing it all, after choosing a member of their management team, it meant duties as a star in their field & the behind the scenes work load. He didn't want a super fan, the result could be extreme levels of narcissism, and that has ended the careers of many or destroyed their ability to form relationships.
"Here's your coffee sir," the intern chimed. He was tall, had black hair; lots of facial hair. His clothing choices hid his build, but he seemed a little skinnier than Charlie. Charlie had his choice. He would scope him out first.
The intern was a fan of his, but never confronted Charlie or tried to get an autograph. He was able to separate his own desires from his work. A strong work ethic. He didn't have any outwardly noticeable social media either, no mention that he works for a mega star. A strong work ethic, mature, and not using him for clout. Charlie could dig further and find a more perfect candidate, but he was shaken up. If it were not for the taser gun, someone else would be living his life, and Charlie would be stuck in them forever.
He called this intern to his dressing room. He didn't know what Charlie wanted, maybe to complain about the coffee, but he was happy nonetheless. After he came to the room, he was sat down by Charlie.
The intern was nervous at first, but Charlie explained the situation. He couldn't believe it, Charlie Puth wants me to be a part of him! The intern looked back at his life, university graduated, aside from his job as a part of Charlie Puth's crew, a new addition mind you, he had nothing remarkable going on. That is why he never blasted his job online: he wanted to keep this one. So he worked his hardest & kept his head down. And now he might be mixing his body & mind with his idol.
The intern agreed when Charlie was done. Charlie sighed that this was necessary & thanked him. He informed him that he wanted to do this now. The intern was shocked, now? He blushed. Ok, so be it. Promotion to Charlie Puth.
Charlie went and locked the door. The last thing he needed was for someone to walk in and get grabbed by his transforming self & adding to the result.
Charlie pulled out a flask with red liquid and drank it. He sat down in another chair. He hesitated. He apologized again and with his right hand bid the intern to come.
The intern, overjoyed, took off his shirt and jeans, revealing boxer briefs. He was about to go commando, but Charlie stopped him from doing that.
All they needed to do was touch skin and then press hard into Charlie. Let the process handle the rest. The intern was taller, and had a build similar to Charlie, only more cut. He was hairy too. Like all over. It was intimidating, no going back. Time to invest in better razors.
The intern got on his knees and then pressed his head against Charlie's chest. His head started to go in.
Charlie felt pressure, and a wave of liquid flow into him. Then pleasurable sensations. He didn't let out any moans or groans except from heavy breathing through his mouth. He didn't want to express the pleasures from assimilating others. Even if they consented. His face showed discomfort, like he was going to cry. And then it hit him.
As the intern entered, he liquidized. Within a few minutes his entire being was a slurry of liquid masses swimming throughout Charlie's body. The underwear fell the to ground. The intern entered Puth's brain, his mind. Charlie felt everything the intern was feeling, and so did the intern. As their minds merged, they reconciled their differences. Charlie's apprehension went away, he was at peace. His face changed to calm. He looked as if he was sleeping in the chair.
The mental traits that didn't become a dominate part of Charlie's mind went into his subconsciousness. From the intern's prospective, he was floating in an peaceful abyss. He would hear Charlie's thoughts, feel what he felt emotionally & physically, see what Charlie sees, and on occasion push Charlie's decisions in one direction or another; just a little. He was Charlie Puth now, small part of the whole.
Charlie's body was rife with activity. The liquid mass of the intern moved through out, looking like big lumps under beneath his skin. Pulsating fast and randomly.
The intern's dna latched on to Charlie's. Puth's new dna then fired off. The mass began to settle and in act new changes. Charlie could feel each one, but all he could do was open his mouth wide open & clutch his hands to the arm rest of the chair he was sitting in, and crunch his toes.
He could feel muscles pop, and in other places, his skin constrict. His bones stretch. His hair darken. And then his face morphed. As if a layer of skin toned smooth clay was covering his face, the intern's facial traits settled in. It was if the intern was a sculptor, and with care & precision molded his new face, dyed his hair.
The intern was a hairy man, and when the merger was focusing on his face, hair started to erupt all over. But as if Charlie was standing next to his new body, as if with a pair of scissors, began to cut away the hair. The body & facial hair began to shrink. Finding a happy medium between Charlie's original bare skin & the intern's wall of hair.
The process was over. Charlie let out a deep exhale and closed his mouth. He opened his eyes.
He was a new man.
But what has he become? Can he still sing?
He looked at the dressing room mirror.
He was taller, and more muscular. He wasn't fat or overweight beforehand, but the intern gave him that push. A six pack was more visible, but he kept his mass. His arms were more vascular. Was he a pop star or a bodybuilder?
His arms and shoulders grew too, a thicker neck. Did he really merge with someone, it felt like he just went to the gym more or dieted better. His brushed his hand against his chest.
Body hair?
He had hair on his forearms, on his chest and abs, and in the face. Sideburns that connected to his new beard & mustache. His hair was darker too, & more voluminous.
His mouth was smaller, and his nose moved more upright, but the lower mouth generally followed his original shape. His ears & skull were longer. But his eyes? A mix of his and the intern. More the interns. The signature cut above his right eye was gone.
He wiped his face, scrupled his hair.
The intern's personal history. It was melded to his. He knew partly why he was big now, his was practicing judo beforehand.
He wanted to feel the fresh air now with his new body. He changed into the underwear & shorts of his fusee and then went outside for a jog:
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It was exhilarating. He was stronger, faster, had more stamina. He could see why people get assimilated. But this is it. No more. Too many, and the original me will be gone & buried. A monster hunger for more power.
He went back to the dressing room and used the secret shower within. He changed his clothes. Everyone addressed him as Charlie. No one knew the difference. When he asked for the intern & described him, no one knew what he was talking about. Scary.
He went to his vocal coach and tested out his singing voice. He sounded more mature, but kept his perfect pitch abilities. And now he could kick butt too.
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ahamkara-apologist · 2 days ago
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okay disclaimer: ik that categorizing female characters as the 'mom friend/figure' is a legit disease in fandom caused by general misogynistic views of female characters, and it's something that personally greatly irritates me bc its not only awful to do, it also tends to ruin the characters its put upon. ESPECIALLY in D2, which is outstanding in its cast of strong female characters
however. in the case of Eramis, I do believe that the fact that she was a mother and is a genuinely caring, nurturing person at heart is something that is a deeply important core part of her character, as well as thematically important to the future of the Eliskni moving forward. It's important because in her case, I believe that her motherly inclinations are why, pre-Witness-whispering-through-the-Darkness, Eramis was such a successful kell- because unlike some other kells who sought a future for the Eliksni via domination, her main focus for them was to create a haven for her people that could be defended from Lightbearers. Riis-Reborn wasn't something to sniff at- it was the closest thing to an actual Eliksni city in a very long while. What got her was her trauma of the Whirlwind and her desire to destroy the Traveler to level the playing field for everyone involved- trauma that the Witness preyed upon in order to get to us. Like a parasite, seeking its secondary host. Eramis certainly is not the only Eliksni who lost her family during the Whirlwind, but I think that her specific brand of anger is closest to that of a mother lion whose cubs are in danger, and is lashing out in a furious fight-or-flight reflex at anything that she perceives as a threat. It's just that in this case, her 'cubs' were the Eliksni as a whole, and the threat she perceived before the Witness started torturing her was the Traveler.
I also think that her relationship with parenthood also makes for a very interesting character contrast to Misraaks (aka the other successful kell viewed as a source of hope for the Eliksni), and helps to set them up as antiparallels to each other. Eramis was a gentle, nurturing mother with a reverence for the Traveler who turned into the bitter, cunning warrior we see now when she lost access to her wife and children; Misraaks was a fearsome, ruthless pirate before he became a father, which gentled him and turned him towards being more pious. Eramis represents the old ways, and offers hope to the Eliksni who cannot bear to cohabitate with humanity; Misraaks represents a change in the tide, and kells the open-minded Eliksni who are willing to lay down their arms to live among the humans of Sol. Misraaks is of Light (change, forgiveness, moving forward), while Eramis is of Darkness (memory, control, looking back). They're opposites in every way except for the fact that both of them were/are amazing parents, and I'd argue that their ability to nurture and overlook others is what led to their success as kells.
Most importantly, however, is their relationship to Eido, who represents the future of the Eliksni. Misraaks was her father, and he did his best to raise her to be kind and openminded, but he also shielded her from the horrors of the past a little too well. She's outgrown that, and now that she's strong enough to handle said horrors, Eramis has been acting as a mentor to fully introduce her to the tragedy of what she lost and why elder Eliksni are so angry about it- and I don't think that she would have been receptive to Eido attempting to talk to her if it weren't for the fact that under all of her prickly armour, she's still that nurturing person at heart. It's her desire to care for others and to see a better future for her people that has kept her going despite her having no hope for herself, and it's that loving heart that has saved herself and her people from utter destruction at both our hands and Fikrul's- because if she didn't look at eido and go 'oh this child is the future of our people and i must protect her with my life', then both her and the rest of House Salvation would have been marked for death. And now here she is, continuing to care for Eido even as her father declines by telling her stories about Riis and helping her track down an apothecary to try to cure him, despite her not believing in his ways. I don't think it's entirely because she used to be a mother, but...I do think that it's playing a huge role in it.
(I also think it's personally fascinating to see how someone who used to be known for being a doting, sweet mom to her hatchlings and a caring mate to her wife can turn into someone who's a terrifying warrior on the battlefield and a cunning, politically saavy ruler, but even then, that doesn't surprise me all that much- if you've got a dearth of experience wrangling hatchlings, then being kell of a house is basically just wrangling a bunch of grown-up hatchlings. Same principles, just upped a level or two in complexity.)
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wheelie-sick · 2 days ago
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my experience with lupus cerebritis 🧠⚡
I was reading about lupus cerebritis (cerebritis= brain inflammation, lupus cerebritis = brain inflammation caused by lupus) trying to figure out if that's where my stutter could have come from. I stumbled across some stories from people who have experienced lupus cerebritis and it inspired me to try to share my own
a big part of cerebritis is memory loss, short term, long term, everything just vanishes. it feels so normal when it happens. that's a big thing with cerebritis for me. my mental state was very altered, everything that happened felt as if it had always been that way. sometimes I could logically acknowledge that it hadn't been this way, that it was new- sometimes I was bluntly forced into this knowledge over and over and over again as I normalized it in my head. other times my brain justified it in warped ways. I was living in a different reality.
I know that at the time there were gaping holes in my memory, things I shouldn't have forgotten. I remember one thing that stuck out- my graduation. I tried to remember my highschool graduation and I just couldn't wrap my head around it. it was as if it was hidden behind one of those bathroom you can't see but the light comes in windows. I could see the vague blur of what happened but I couldn't grasp it. just out of reach. I regained this memory later, I don't know if all of them came back. that's the problem with memory loss, you don't know what's gone.
this memory loss left some very permanent holes in my memory of that semester of brain inflammation. I am missing a lot. this recounting is going to be inaccurate on account of what's gone and what's warped.
the biggest feature of my cerebritis was psychosis. cerebritis drove me deep into a psychotic break.
it started off gradually, a creeping fog that shrouded the world. I don't remember where it began, I don't think it's possible to put a dot on the timeline and say "here! this is where I became psychotic!" it turned into a nightmare that would result in a failed semester of university. what started with mild delusions that people were following me and that I was on a watchlist turned into hiding under my bed with my blinds closed living off of ramen I had stockpiled because I thought the FBI was staking out my dorm room. I heard whispers coming from the corners of my dorm room. I isolated myself from my friends because I thought they were part of a mind reader society that would kill me if they knew that I knew about mind readers.
anxiety & paranoia are part of cerebritis
my writing ability was heavily affected by both my psychosis and cognitive issues. when writing essays I'd get the feedback that my writing was confusing, hard to follow, and made no sense. I once was one of the top writers in every class but now I was falling behind into last place.
lupus cerebritis is not just psychological and cognitive, though. I had gotten a wheelchair about 5 months before my cerebritis really kicked in. I ended up using it nearly full time, in part because of pain and fatigue caused by my untreated lupus but also because I would have bouts of severe balance & coordination issues. I would have trouble standing, I could not walk to the bathroom down the hallway. my body did not want to move the way I told it to.
eventually I got a diagnosis of lupus and was able to start treatment. after failing the conservative treatments I was put on a biologic. within a week I started returning to reality. my balance issues started to fade, my memory started to return. it took a total of 3 months to truly come down from the flare. it took a while to fully realize what had happened. I wasn't diagnosed with cerebritis when I was initially diagnosed, it took a follow up appointment where I explained what happened to be told that cerebritis was likely the cause.
I still live with some of the effects of my cerebritis and my immune system still loves to go after any part of my nervous system. I still have balance issues, I have peripheral neuropathy and a cranial nerve disorder, I still have brain fog and memory loss. brain inflammation leaves a lasting impact. it doesn't just go away and there's always a risk of it coming back.
reblogs welcome
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actuallybridgetjones · 2 days ago
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so long (worst!wolverine x reader)
warnings: +18 minors do not interact, smut, fluff, female!reader, worst!wolverine, change of events, after d&w.
a/n: hi! since d&w got on disney+ i just had to rewatch it and had this idea. please note that this is my first fic ever and that english isn’t my first language. also, i can’t write wade accurately so here is my messy attempt. sorry in advance for any mistake (or if this seems to messy) and feedback is much appreciated. love, carol ♡
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you and logan had a life together, both teacher at charle's institute. your relationship with him blossomed through late sleepless nights in the kitchen, when you listened to the older man, appreciating the little he shared with you everyday.
it was evident that you two grew close as each day passed. after lingering touches and stares, stollen kisses in empty classrooms, you eventually got together and boy, were you happy.
you had it all, you knew each other like the palm of your hand. you were logan's harbor and he was your safe haven. you saw how he would get when the nightmares were too much, feeling the urge to drink his worries away. you saw his flaws and his sins and still you stood by.
that's what made logan wonder at first. it made him wonder how a girl sweet and kind like you wasn't terrified by the thought of him. he would often even wonder what kind of good thing he did to have you only listening to him in the first place.
so, when that tragic night came, logan got reminded of how he didn't deserve any good, how everything of his always had a way to be taken, ruined. he was coming home from the bar, a solo mission went wrong, he decided to stop to drink it away before collapsing in your arms. he knew you would be home, you were always home.
until you weren't.
he got to the mansion to find it filled with dead bodies, jean, scott, storm, hank... everyone, it was a blood bath. logan's first thought was you. running into your shared bedroom, he searched, spent days looking through the damn corpses but there were no traces of you, nothing for him to mourn over.
logan turned to alcohol and self hatred, his healing abilities now appearing as a curse, as if nothing was hard enough to numb him from the pain of it all.
the day wade (or whatever was his name) came in saying that he would take him out of there, logan didn’t even flinch. if he didn’t have you, there was nothing holding him back to his timeline.
here he was now, storming in to help deadpool, the guy who gave him a second chance, stoping cassandra with the time reaper. his mind was filled with memory of the journey he had gone through, but not only.
through his head flew images of you. your smile, your eyes, your small almost unnoticeable freckles, the way your nose scrunched when you laughed and the way your cheeks always seemed to turn a warm pink shade around him. images of you underneath and on top of him, holding him or sleeping tightly in his embrace. memories of slow mornings tangled on each other and late nights spent panting.
after all was safe and sound, after wade’s world was no longer endangered, logan gave himself a second chance too. he let himself be friends with wade, agreeing to live with him until he figured something out. he always did.
wade, cheery as ever, took logan to his building, wanting him to meet blind al, the so infamous roommate. after climbing up the stairs logan feels a perfume he hadn’t felt in years. he turned to see you shuffling through your keys, trying to enter the apartment. you didn’t even have to turn his way.
it was you.
logan stood frozen, trying to figure out if this was another one of life’s tricks to him.
“peanunt, that’s y/n, she’s a sweet girl, but you’re literally drooling you nasty dog” wade says, and that’s when you turn to the two men, hearing your name coming from the mouth of your chatty neighbor.
the sight in front of you made your heart stop. was it your logan? could it be? or was it just another nightmare about the love of your life, just for you to wake to an empty cold bed?
your brows furrow as you look at him. he was older, thinner even despite his still very defined muscles. you were sure this was your logan from the way he looked at you, his hazel eyes seeming worn over but with the same love inside of them.
“lo-logan?”
“y/n?”
your breath hitched on your throat as tears fall down your face. you run to logan, wrapping your arms tightly around him. if this was a dream, you wanted to hug him for one last time, to atleast try to feel his embrace, his touch.
logan hugged you back, bringing your smaller body to his chest as he crouched to whisper, crying too. “is this really you? y/n, oh god”
you pull your head back to look into his eyes, meeting his hazel orbs.
it was your logan.
“i-i can’t believe…” your voice comes out shaky, small even as you look at the man. dirty, rugged and with stains of blood everywhere, but he was your man.
“oh darling… god darling girl” his voice is small too, contrasting with his own appearance. you wrap your arms securely around his neck once again, crying in pure bliss as his large arms came to wrap around your waist.
“i missed you so much” you say between sobs against his neck. “how-how did you get here?” he asks, finally finding all of his worries dissipating in your embrace.
“on the night of the attack… a portal opened and I came here, I had no idea how to go back, how to go back to you lo-” you say almost out of breath, feeling his hand now softly combing through your hair.
logan pulls back to look at you in the eyes, his fingers brushing softly against your cheek as he whispered “beautiful” and brings his lips to yours.
there’s no point in denying the hurry of the kiss, the desperation and the longing cursing through your veins. of course there’s always someone to wreck the party.
“peanut? honey? am i missing something or are we starting to make out with greasy strangers in the hallways now?” deadpool’s voice interrupts.
logan grunts and turns back to him, giving him a glare. “she was, is, the one i told you about” the wolverine says surprinsingly soft.
you smile and add shyly “he’s the one i told you about”, logan looks at you tenderly, a reminder of the love still in him. the love that he had burried deep down after that night.
“honey? you had no will to tell me that THE MAN YOU WERE FUCKING NASTY BACK IN YOUR TIMELINE WAS THE WOLVERINE?” wade adds excitedly.
you and logan both roll your eyes, you blush and turn to your neighbor. “i don’t know if he was going up to meet blind al, but i’m going to keep him for the night”
“don’t make too much noise”
before you pull your long lost lover inside with you into your apartment he turns back. “hey, wade… thank you”.
after that he was on you, door closed as he pinned you against it, arms wrapping around you, your own traveling down the hoodie he was wearing. your lips meet in a searing kiss, his tongue not taking much time in entering your mouth, joining your own in a slow and long known dance.
this was home.
“my bedroom his down the hall” you say between kisses and logan pulls you to wrap your legs around his torso, bringing you to your own bedroom. once you’re there he lays you against the bed gently, taking off his hoodie and moving to remove the tank top you were wearing, nothing underneath.
“what a fucking sight” he whispers, the rough tone contrasting with the love his gaze held, his eyes turning a deep shade of forest greeen now. reaching down, he kisses your neck, bitting and nibbling on the tender skin under his mouth.
"i- i need you logan" you say gravely, voice filled with need and passion. you remove your jeans and panties, laying bare under him now. "what a sight, princess" he hums against your hear, letting out a soft groan as he feels your desperate hands fumbling with his pants.
not longer after that, logan was moving inside you, his movements desperate as your manicured nails dig into the flesh of his back. his hands travel sloppily down your body, massaging the soft skin.
"i love you logan, i love you" you manage to say between moans, head thrown back in pleasure as you feel your high approaching. his hips grew more erratic, your words making his need grow "you'll be the death of me darlin' " he says between pants.
you feel the familiar stretch of his large cock on you, the familiar pleasure his calloused hands bring you. but you also see the depth of his eyes. the love and longing they carry. he shifts, now kneeling as his hands grasp at your hips, tight enough to bruise.
from the new angle it all feels too much and you can't even begin to process it until it's happening. "oh logan..." you almost scream in pure bliss, your whole body convulsing as your eyes roll to the back of your head, your juices spilling all over him.
the sight is too much for logan as he cums inside of you, the feel of his warm seed filling you up, making you squirm. he collapses on top of you, his hands anchoring his body as he looks you in the eye, still inside of you. "i love you so much princess"
you can only smile, new tears threatening to roll down your cheeks as you looked at the man that was, is, everything to you. in that moment you know it'll be alright, and he knows, feels it too.
as long as you've got each other, it'll be alright.
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