#thinking of my sister too I know it'll be even harder for her

[trans-yllz]

for someone who Hated going home for the holidays, first christmas post mom death is proving uncharacteristically upsetting

[arpicityandneed]

Imagine being Loki and Thor's sister, very sheltered and destined to one day be sent away from Asgard for a political marriage of some sort. They've both always been a little miffed about this arrangement, but they cope by taking all of your 'firsts' before you go.

18+ Dark Content. big brother!Loki, big brother!Thor. tw incest, creampie, dirty talk, spit roast. Cuckolding.

You grew up to be the most delicate flower the kingdom had ever seen, beautiful, kind, sheltered, and protected by the royal guard and your brothers until you were dependent upon them for everything.

They didn't mind.

Thor would stop mid feast if you needed him to read you a bedtime story, and Loki used every ounce of magic he had to make illusions that made you giggle and laugh.

But the threat of your marriage hung over all over heads like a death sentence. Especially once they learned you'd be leaving Asgard for good once you were married.

"Father, you must reconsider. How is she to exist outside these walls without us, married to a brute?" Thor argued to the AllFather while you slept soundly a few nights before you were to be sent off. Your new husband had made no effort to hide that he only saw you as a way to have heirs from a powerful bloodline.

"Their family has old blood Thor, old enough even our family recognizes it. It is a good allyship and that's final." Odin stared down his son ominously, and Thor felt his blood boil.

"If I may, Father, at least allow us to escort her to her new home. Give her some comfort at least." Loki spoke quickly, knowing if he didn't there would be another eye lost and not from his father's face.

Odin considered, for a moment before nodding tightly.

"But this is the last I am to here of this matter."

~

"I don't want to go. I want to stay with you. I wish I were marrying you and Loki instead." You wailed, fully sobbing as your brothers held you close after telling you what your father had said.

"Don't cry, little one. Please don't cry," Thor begged as he rocked you.

"It'll be alright sister, I have my magic. No one will keep us from you no matter how far apart." Loki tried to convince you but it just made you cry harder, clinging to his hand as Thor cradled you against his broad chest.

"No, b-because he'll own me. I'll be h-his and he'll get to make me b-bear his children..." Thor's jaw clenched and he looked to Loki quietly. It was easy enough for Loki to guess his brother's thoughts after hundreds of years, but for once Loki was in complete agreement.

"What if we put a child in your belly first?" Loki murmured as he brushed his thumb over your knuckles. For the first time since they'd told your about Odin's words your crying died down a little.

"Really? You'd do that for me?" You looked between the two of them with wide hopeful eyes, squeezing Loki's hand tight.

"Of course we would. Your ours, always have been and always will be." Thor's deep voice was gentle but completely serious. You wiped your tears, sitting up a bit taller.

"I'd much rather have your babies than his. I love you both, so very much." It was simply the truth, one the three of you all knew.

"Then let us show you how much we love you, sister."

~

The hours had blurred. What had started with gentle kisses and soft touched had long since devolved in hazy, animalistic sex.

"Another." Thor's massive hand slapped down on the fat of your ass, his cock pounding into your gushing insides relentlessly. Loki was groaning as you practiced deep throating him for the second time that night.

"Good technique. I think dear sister, fuck that's good, we've made you into a whore." Loki sounded pleased, Thor only growled in warning. They'd had this argument several times as the night wore on.

"Am I too lewd brother?" You'd asked when you'd demanded they teach you how to make them cum with your mouth so they could use you at the same time.

"Not at all, I quite like knowing you have some whorishness in you. Just needed to be nurtured." Loki purred as he kissed you, deeper than before. You heard a loud CRACK! and looked up to find Thor breaking the arm of the chair he'd been resting in.

"If that man touches you like we have I'm killing him. Allyship, war, all of it be damned. If he touches you I'm burning his kingdom to the ground." It wasn't a bellow like his normal good natured threats, this was quiet and deadly serious.

"Yes, yes. Only for us. Or Thor will kill your future husband." Loki laughed as he tugged on your hair forcing you down the last few inches until your nose was buried in his pubes. When you merely blinked up at him all pretty and wet eyed he barely got out a warning before he was coming down your throat.

You gasped for air when your brother released you. You'd lost count of how many loads you'd taken from them both, but each one made you feel greedier. You wanted to drown from the inside until you were marked irrevocably and their claim on you was undeniable.

"Breathe love, Thor give her space-" Loki combed your hair away from your face, trying to look in your eyes and check that you're okay.

"No!" You moaned as you fucked yourself back on your brother's girth shamelessly. "M-more, don't want to stop. Not till it t-takes. Please? Please please please," You begged shamelessly as Thor groaned and fucked you through his orgasm, each spurt squelching out around his cock onto the drenched sheets.

"Shh love, you know how Loki worries. We won't stop until you're with child. We promised didn't we?" Thor kissed your shoulder as he reached around to tease your clit, his fingers growing slick the more he played with your nub. "Because the only children you'll be having are ours."

"Even-"

"Even after you're married to that oaf, you'll still be good for us won't you?" Loki placed two fingers under your chin to make you look at him, your eyes glazed over and adoring.

"Yes."

[crafty-butch]

Embalmed

A short story by me (tw: body horror, self-harm kinda)

Did you know embalming isn't actually that common, worldwide? I didn't. Sure, there are some famous exceptions–looking at you, pharaohs–but embalming random schlubs is mostly a US thing. Plenty of religions ban it outright. Islam, Judaism, several branches of Christianity…

Bear with me. I promise I have a point.

Anyway, I've got no opinion on what God wants us to do with our corpses. I've never been religious. I'm still not, weird as that sounds. But I'm with Islam, Judaism, and several branches of Christianity on this one. Just skip the embalming and bury the body before it starts to rot. It'll be easier for everyone, on the off chance someone decides to bring them back.

No, this isn't a joke. Look, I'm not saying it's likely, okay? I know the stats. Less than twenty confirmed resurrections in the last half-century. Maybe twice that many ambiguous cases. Actually ambiguous, that is. Just because someone is flaired “unconfirmed” on r/Resurrected doesn't mean there's a chance in Hell they're legit. So, yeah, I get it's unlikely. But let's jump back to embalming real quick.

You know how it works, right? At least vaguely? Blood goes out, formaldehyde goes in. Well, that's step one. Step two is sucking all the non-blood fluids out of your body cavity and swapping those for embalming fluid too. They also sew your mouth shut, stuff some cotton in you to stop any leaking–I could go on, but I won't. Like I said, I don't have any issue with embalming from a treatment-of-the-dead-body standpoint. I'm not trying to make anyone feel bad for embalming Great-Aunt Edith, here. I'm just saying, if the dead body becomes an alive body, you can see why there might be some issues.

Yeah, yeah, I know what you're going to say: “It's magic, dumbass.” And, yes, it is. That's why waking up with your mouth sewn shut and your body stuffed full of formaldehyde doesn't immediately kill you again. Doesn't make it fun, though.

Okay, maybe I shouldn't focus on the mouth thing. I'm sure it's happened to someone, but my sister cut the stitches out before she brought me back. She was thorough like that. I just feel like it's easier to picture, you know? Mouth won't open and hurts when you try. The rest of it's harder.

I don't blame my sister for not dealing with the formaldehyde. I know there wasn't much she could do about it. If she'd had more time, I'm sure she could've come up with something, but once you've dug up a body, you're kind of on a (ha) deadline. If someone sees you, you're done. So I get it. I've had a lot of time to think it over, and I'm still not sure what she could've done better. Other than just letting me stay dead.

I don't want to sound ungrateful, but…maybe I am? A little bit? I know that's an awful thing to say. It's not like I wanted to die. That's not what this is about. It's also not about how super amazingly great the afterlife is. Sorry to disappoint, but I have no idea. I don't remember anything between the hospital and waking up on the grass with a chest full of embalming fluid. Does that mean there's nothing after? Or did coming back just give me amnesia? No idea. I leave that one to the philosophers.

My sister probably would've had an opinion.

She was always…

Let me tell you about my sister.

She was great. I'm not saying this because of what happened. She really was incredible. Almost perfect. One of those people who's so smart and so kind and so beautiful and so goddamn humble but not so humble you can even accuse them of humblebragging, to the point where you can't help but hate them a little for making you look so fucking shitty in comparison and then you feel like the biggest bitch in the world and that just makes you hate them more.

Okay, maybe she wasn't quite as perfect as all that. After I came back, I learned some things. Turns out she was just as much of a fuckup as me, in her own way. She was just better at hiding it. But I never met that version of her. In my memories, she's still just Little Miss Impossibly Perfect. I wish she'd told me about any of it. Maybe…

No, that isn't fair. Why would she tell me anything that could get her in trouble? Maybe I would've hated her less, or maybe I would've just gone and told our parents. Even once we grew up. Would I really have been able to resist knocking her off that pedestal? I'd like to think I would, but come on. Look how I'm talking about her. And that's after she sold her soul for me.

If you're thinking right now that the world probably would've been better off with her instead of me, you're not the only one. Don't worry, I won't take it personally. Or maybe you're not thinking that at all. I've been told I project onto other people.

Maybe you're just confused about why I'm talking about her in the past tense. After all, it's not like selling your soul kills you, and you've probably never met someone unensouled. Or maybe you have, and you know exactly why I'm talking like this. Probably not, though. There are a lot more unensouled than there are people who were resurrected–people sell their souls for all sorts of reasons–but there are a lot more fakers too. Pro tip: if someone claiming they sold their soul gives any sign of caring about literally anything, including whether you believe them, they're lying to you.

So, yeah, she's still here. I know I keep saying it, but I'm not religious. I don't think my sister is burning in Hell while her empty husk sits up here, and if you ask me, that's just a real convenient excuse not to help the person who's still right there in front of you. Whatever a “soul” actually is, there's clearly someone here.

Sorry, I might be preaching to the choir here. And I don't want to sound like I think every religious person thinks that way. I just made the mistake of talking to my parents this weekend, and I'm still a little mad. Or a lot mad. Look, I know I'm getting off topic. Just, real quick, I want to explain.

She's still my sister. I'm not denying that. I keep saying she was this or she was that because she's not really any of those things anymore. She's not cruel, but she doesn't care enough to be kind. I'm sure she's still smart, but she doesn't actually want to use her smarts for anything. She barely eats if I don't pester her into it. I don't think she'd have an opinion on what my lack of memory says about the afterlife anymore. But, hey, maybe she would. Maybe I should ask.

Anyway. None of this is really my point. My point is, waking up next to your own open grave is freaky enough when you're not choking on formaldehyde. It took weeks before I was mostly bleeding blood again. (Yeah, I checked. Don't judge. You'd be curious too.) I coughed up embalming fluid for months. My insides still don't feel quite right. I could get them checked out, but I'll be honest with you. I don't want to know. I haven't been anywhere near a doctor since I got back.

I know, you don't think this will happen to you. No one you know is the right combination of smart enough to wade through all the bullshit to figure out how to revive you and stupid enough to go through with it. And you're probably right. But I thought that too.

[smellslikemultifandomimagines]

hi can I request a smut or blurb of Jason where the reader is Starfire’s younger sister (Jason’s age ofc) and there is something about her that Jason can’t resist and he can’t stop thinking about her especially during training then he eventually gets frustrated and does something about it

[❤︎] pairing: Jason Todd x starefire!sister!reader [❤︎] warnings: [❤︎] word count:

requests are open🖤 request guidelines✨ 🌻masterlist🌻 smut night masterlist 💦

JASON KNEW YOU WERE OFF LIMITS. Kory had made that very clear from day 1 of you living in the tower. While she could appreciate his skills in the vigilante world, she would never trust him to be with you. Jason knew that, Dick knew that, hell even Rachel sided with Kory. Jason wasn't to be trusted around you.

But there was certainly a fire in you (no pun intended, of course) that kept Jason on his toes. He first noticed in one of the first training sessions you had with Gar, Jason and Rachel. Your skills in martial arts blowing them away immediately. He quietly paid attention to you, taking mental notes on that you liked and didn't like.

At first, he found it cute that you were oblivious to his flirting. Though, you were warned by pretty much everyone, that Jason was a massive flirt. But as more time passed, the more he couldn't stop thinking about you. He wanted, needed even, to be with you. It was odd, he thought, that you are the only one in his house that keeps him level headed. You weren't even together, let alone close enough friends, so how do you manage to do that?

Training got even harder too, the more you pinned him to the wall or the floor, or even did that to the others, the more infatuated he got.

"That's it. I'm gonna ask her out," he tells Gar. The two had been talking about you about the better of a half hour now. Of course Gar noticed Jason's little crush, and he told Jason that it wasn't long before everyone else figured it out too, that is, if they haven't already.

"Dude, you can't. Kory-"

"I couldn't give two shits about Kory right now. I can't keep waiting around for [y/n] to make a move on me, so why-"

"It's a dumb idea."

"I don't care."

"Well, don't tell you I told you so if Kory finds out," Gar throws his hands up in surrender.

"She won't find out," Jason tries to argue, but failing. Even he could see how weak of a point that was. He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, "She consumes my every thought. This obsession, this - I don't even know what this is - it's too much. Of course you'd never understand, I mean-"

"Hey, who said I've never had a crush before?" Gar defended himself with a slight chuckle.

"You know what I mean," Jason rolls his eyes. He flops down on his bed, a heavy sigh running out his mouth. He rubs his face in his hand again before standing up. "Right, well I'm going to blow off some steam."

Jason stops in his tracks when he sees you in the training room, looking as flawless as ever. Your hair's a mess, strands coming out of your bun from every angel, sweat glistening over your forehead and chest, tired hands gripping the sword as you try another trick.

"Hey," you smile at him, noticing his presence. He can barely get a word out, so all he can do is give you a small wave. "Wanna train together? I've been trying this new thing, and I think it'll work better if I actually have someone else here," you laugh charismatically.

"Uh, yeah, sure." You've learned not to take Jason's tone too seriously. There's no point in getting upset over an angsty, brooding guy. Jason was cute though, there's no doubt about that. Rough around the edges, sure, but over the last few months that you've been here, you've gotten to know him better. A lot more than he thinks.

Jason grabs a sword and positions himself to get ready to fight. The two of you start sparring, swords clinking together from contact. As impressively good as he was, he seemed distracted.

With a flick of your wrist, you easily caught him off guard and made his weapon drop from his hand. “Everything okay? You don’t seem yourself?”

“What makes you say that?” Jason rubs the back of his neck, his eyes boring into yours. He needs a plan, and he needs it now. If there’s any time to ask you out, or at least try to, it had to be now.

“Your footings off. Your footing is never off,” you stand closer to him, a hand on his shoulder. It was a simple gesture, really. A sign that meant he could trust you no matter what. But the sensation jason felt all over his body was too much. He pulled away, not wanting too, but his body seemed to do it for him. Almost like your touch caused a knee-jerk reaction. Your brows not together.

“Jason-“

“I like you, okay! I know Kory’s sworn me off as the bad guy, but you-you’re just so-“ he couldn’t even put into words on how to describe you. Your eyes softened, hands cupping his checks as a soft, flattered laugh slips your lips.

“Took you long enough.”

[dee-in-the-box]

so. thought a little too hard about my headcanons for Dsaf 3. and now i'm a bit sad. so now y'all get some!

Jack listening to Henry's tapes and getting about...five more reasons to want to tear that man to shreds. at lest three of them involved Dave. the other two involve Dee and himself.

Dee first coming out of her box in The Flipside looking like the Puppet, but then shifting into looking like herself again when she sees Jack. and then shifting into the Puppet again when the fight starts. just. my Dee shapeshifting headcanon <3 (basically, after she died, Dee could shift her ghostly appearance into being either the Puppet or a ghostly version of herself)

Jack looking at Blackjack and just seeing a younger version of himself, frozen in time. this young man in his early twenties, his whole life ahead of him, who had all of that ripped away from him cruelly. his sister. his brother. himself. all by the same man. reduced to a snarling ball of rage, who wants nothing more than to rip Henry to shreds where he stands. the only reason he hasn't done so is because he's been convinced that doing so won't truly set him free. when Fredbear told Jack that, despite the souls desiring vengeance, killing their killer would not set them free, Blackjack took that to mean that it wouldn't set him free either. he's been stewing in his rage and grief for decades, neither feeling ever subsiding in that time. if anything, his rage has only increased. he lost everything because of Henry. why wouldn't he be angry? and so, if everyone else must move on, and leave him there to guard Henry and make sure he doesn't cause any problems, alone, then he will.

Jack finally helping to set him free, looking his younger self in the eyes and saying maybe that means that killing Henry is the one thing that will set him free. and even if it isn't...well, he needs to be dealt with, anyway. what if he gets out and causes problems again? just...Jack looking at Blackjack and feeling both like he's looking at a window into the past, yet also like he's looking at a different person entirely. because he and Blackjack are separate people, technically. but it's also him looking at himself.

Jack holding Dave's hand as they confront Henry, and squeezing it a little bit reassuringly. Dave tightening his grip as he gets more stressed.

Peter's death in the Henry fight being the thing that makes Jack say that their anger pushes them harder, and Dee's death leading to the line "We're gonna fuckin' FLAY you alive, Henry!" from Jack...like. just imagine how enraged he probably sounded, seeing Dee go down again. do you think it reminded him of the day she died? the day he went back to the diner to find her and bring her home, only for him to keep calling out for her and looking for her as the horror dawned on him that he couldn't find her? do you think that's what was running through his mind?

Jack and Dave reaching the end, and jack admitting that he can't go with them. Blackjack interjecting that...there is something they can try. no guarantee that it'll work, but it's worth a shot. Blackjack can try to fuse back together with him; not necessarily the same thing as shoving someone's soul back into their body, which is a big no no, apparently, but maybe a piece of him will break off, and it'll become Jack's soul. maybe them fusing will trick the universe into thinking Jack has a soul. who knows, but hopefully it'll work. and it does. Jack, by some miracle, gets his own soul out of this in a way that'll allow Blackjack to still exist. he also gets Free Afterlife Top Surgery™, because at this point he deserves it. he's been through so much shit.

at the end of the fire, Jack just looks at Dave and Blackjack and says "Come on, guys. Let's go home."

i just. aaaaaaAAAAAAAAA-

also, some Afterlife headcanons for y'all:

Peter: "Jackie, with all due respect, you have the weirdest taste in men." Jack just hanging out with Dave in the corner: "Peter, wtf-"

Steven just immediately laid down on the floor of the Afterlife and slept for a while. he was. So Fucking Tired.

Jack: "Okay, therapy circle time-" Dave: "Absolutely not, we don't have time to unpack all that." Jack: "Dave, we have nothing BUT time to unpack all of that-"

Peter and Caroline reunion <3

[noa-de-cajou]

Yavana belongs to @thal-ent

October 24th, 2013

I don’t want to talk. I don’t want pity. I don’t want you to help me.

I wake up in a cold sweat.

It’s not the nightmares. Just the memories. Which is worse, somehow.

The room is too quiet. Too big. I’m used to the bunk beds, to sleep on the top one because I'm too tall and knock my head on the frame all the time, but to knock it on the ceiling anyway. It got me giggles from Jacek and Tobiasz below, from Lucjan snuggled up next to me, from the twins in the other bed.

Now the mattress is too large for one person and there's too much space between me and the ceiling. I’ve always dreamt of having a space to myself, just to myself, yet now I just want to be crammed up in that tiny room again. Like I'm a baby who never grew up.

But I keep growing. No matter how much I pull on the sleeves of those pajamas, they don't even reach my wrists. I’m already taller than Mr Sadowski even though I'm not even half his age, he keeps joking about it to try and make me crack a smile. It never works. Maybe if I just don't react, it'll make him stop.

I don’t want to talk. I don’t want pity. I don’t want you to help me.

A scream startles me awake again. A baby’s. Celestyn’s. Just like it startled me back to my senses last month.

It didn’t matter then, that I might be in danger. The only thing that mattered was protecting my brothers. I couldn’t let him kill them too.

And look where it got me.

I’m exaggerating. It could have been worse.

Could it really have been worse?

… I’m not gonna be able to fall back asleep again. Might as well get up.

I’m careful to not make the floorboards creak too loud. The apartment didn’t have floorboards, just tiles. Made it easier to be quiet. Not wake him up when he was passed out drunk in front of the TV.

With the Sadowskis, it's different. It’s late, I just don’t want to wake them up. They probably won't even be mad if I do. Mrs Sadowski will probably even ask me if everything's okay, if I need anything, if I want to maybe call my older brother even if it's the middle of the night, and it will irritate me and I'll refuse dryly and she'll just nod and go back to sleep.

I don’t want to talk. I don’t want pity. I don’t want you to help me.

I make my way downstairs. I’ll just fix up a snack and watch some dumb nightly TV show and try not to think about how Kamil bawled and clung to my arm when his own foster parents came to get him.

The kitchen lights are on. Shit.

I contemplate going back to my room. But I remember the emptiness and the silence and it makes me nauseous. So I step into the kitchen and rehearse the lines I already know by heart.

I don’t want to talk. I don’t want pity. I don’t want you to help me.

It’s Yavana. Just my luck.

I've been avoiding her. I just can’t bear to talk to her in class, it makes it too real. I can't bear to see her at dinner every evening with her sister, either. It reminds me too much of what I was robbed of.

Guess I can’t avoid her anymore.

She jumps a little when I enter. I don't blame her. I’ve learned to move quietly, after all.

“Oh… Hi, Simowiet. Can't sleep?”

I just nod. My jaw is clenched shut as the words try to tattoo themselves on my tongue.

I don’t want to talk. I don’t want pity. I don’t want you to help me. I don’t want to talk. I don’t want pity. I don’t want you to help me. I don’t want to talk. I don’t want pity. I don’t want you to –

“I was about to make tea. Do you want some?”

...

There’s no pity in those eyes. Her smile doesn't hide any either.

She just looks… tired.

I gulp. It's a little harder to, suddenly. My eyes burn a little. I lower my head so she doesn't see me crying, even if I'm not crying yet.

I don’t want to talk. I don’t want pity. I don’t want you to help me.

But I do want tea.

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

She smiles again and turns back to the kettle.

“Okay. I have apple cinnamon, berries and lemon here. Which one do you want?”

“Apple cinnamon.”

“Alright. Coming right up.”

“Thanks.”

I sit down at the kitchen table, she boils the water. And when it’s done, she sits too and we drink our tea in silence.

It’s the first time in a month that silence hasn't felt heavy at all.

I don’t want to talk. I don’t want pity. I don’t want you to help me.

And neither do you.

[misteria247]

Have you ever thought of Leo giving Mona Lisa the “If you hurt my little brother…” talk after she settled on earth and she and Raph started going out more regularly?

Hmm if I'm gonna be honest not really, given how Leo's like, he'd want Raph to be happy and he knows that if he gave a shovel talk to Mona it'd probably make him upset. Leo does however observe Mona to see what her intentions are and whether she's really serious about his little brother or not.

Much like how he obversed April and Renet whenever they'd interact with Donnie and Mikey, he'd do the same to Mona Lisa. He'd watch her and Raph's interactions, ready to intervene should things go south. However he quickly figures out that she's just as crazy about the red clad turtle as said turtle is about her and he doesn't think too much about their relationship afterwards. He instead let's them be, happy to see Raph looking so happy and light for once, instead of being weighed down by the things that he's gone through. Seeing Raph smile and laugh whenever Mona's around reminds the eldest son of the days before their lives went to hell. Back to the days when Spike hadn't become Slash and how Raph hadn't experienced the emotional hurt that he'd experienced later on in his life. When Raph and Mona are super serious Leo would then try to get to know the salamander, wanting to get to know the woman who might one day become his sister in law.

Years later when Raph and Mona Lisa get engaged, and Leo, Donnie, Mikey, April and Casey have officially bonded and accepted Mona Lisa into their tightly knit circle, Leo will invite the salamander to have some tea with him in the dojo. Mona would join him, a bit hesitant in a way seeing as how the blue clad turtle was a lot harder to read than his family and her fiancee. The two would sit by the large tree quietly, sipping their tea and just soaking in the silence between them. It'll be then that Leo would speak up, drawing Mona's attention towards him and say to her:

"My brother Raphael is the strongest person I know, but even the strongest people need someone to help support them as well. For my whole life I've done my best to help him and support him just as he's done for me. And now that he's grownup and met you he's not needed me as much as he used to. So.......I'm leaving him in your care, sister. Please take good care of Raph."

And Mona she'll listen the entire time, her gaze soft and somewhat touched. She knows that it's hard for her lover's brother to trust others, knows that he's protective of those he calls family, herself included. And while it hadn't been said out loud Leo had given Raph over to Mona's care a long time ago, yet at that moment it was much more official now. Leo was entrusting her with Raph's happiness just as he entrusted Raph to her happiness. Mona would give him a small smile and reply:

"It would be my greatest joy and happiness to do this. And I'll spend the rest of my life doing just that, so don't fear for him. He'll be okay Leonardo."

And they'd fall silent once more, the words needed to be said now spoken and Leo feeling more lighter than he had been knowing that Mona Lisa would have Raph's back just as Raph would have hers.

[queer-advice-hotline]

Hi Synn! I already thought your name was cool just looking at it, but then I actually pronounced it and I was like 😮 so awesome. Anyway, not the point. I need help :(

Okay, so I'm queer and transmasc 17-year-old Ohioian living with conservative parents. While Ohio may have many problems, the process of starting hrt as an adult and changing your name and legal sex seem relatively painless. I intend to see planned parenthood on my 18th birthday about starting t. I'm also going to start my legal transition within that week.

HOWEVER. Small (huge) problem. I'm not out yet, as queer or trans. My birthday is in mid May, and I want my parents to have at least a little time to process my gender stuff before I start transitioning, so I want to come out around a month beforehand (I'm too scared to do it earlier than that). I also want to come out as queer before that. They'll have a much easier time with the queer thing than the trans thing, and coming out as them separately with time in between would certainly be easiest. When my sister came out as a bisexual, it took about six months for it to just be normal. We are WAY past that point. I know it'll take less time with me since they've been through it before, but still. The clock is really ticking and the longer I wait, the harder coming out as trans will be.

Two problems. One, I'm not ready. I've been trying to convince myself to come out as queer for about 6 months now, and I'm just so scared. More pressingly, however, is that now is a VERY bad time to come out. My dad, the much more accepting of my parents, is away almost constantly taking care of his sick mom. The only reason he'll stop is to get and recover from a surgery he has to get in the next couple months. Between him not being here to help my mom through this and the high stress situation of his surgery makes me feel like throwing the queer bombshell right now might not be the best idea. But we don't even know when the surgery will be yet.

I'm really nervous about the whole thing. I want to make this as easy as possible for them, but I let my fear push me past my window of opportunity and now I have to wait a long and unknown amount of time to tell them I'm queer. If push comes to shove, I AT LEAST have to be out as trans by May 3rd and out as queer by mid April. But I don't know if even that will be long enough removed from the surgery stuff. I know there isn't really anything you can do, or I can do really, but I'm scared :( help?

Trying to force yourself to come out doesn’t seem to be helping you, so step one would be to take a step back and stop making it seem like this hard deadline you have to meet. I get that it can seem stressful, since you want to transition as quickly as possible, but I don’t think you’re going to get anywhere by trying to rush.

You said your sister has already come out, so reaching out to her for support may be helpful to you. She may be able to provide some tips, or even be there with you when you do it to support you.

As for fearing a bad reaction, I know his may be hard to hear, but waiting to come out until you’re financially independent may be more helpful, in case things go badly. Coming out as queer may be alright, and if you want to do that, go for it. But seeing as your parents haven’t had any experience with a child of theirs being trans, you don’t have a guarantee on how they’ll react. You can always start by talking about a “trans friend” you have. You can also mention a trans celebrity or anything like that to see what their reaction will be.

If you are absolutely dead set on beginning your transition when you turn 18, it will be possible to hide it from them for a while, to give yourself time to adjust to the change, but then you run the risk of them finding out before you want them to.

Since you said your father isn’t home much, maybe telling them over text will be easier for you, and you can have your sister or any queer friends you may have help you word it or be there with you when you send it. If you decide to have a face to face conversation, having someone else could still be helpful.

[the-fiction-witch]

The highway Girl

Media Bright Star

Character Samuel Brawne

Couple Samuel X Reader

Rating Smutty

Concept Highway Robbery

Smut Riding / humping / Sexy / Fondling/ semi non consentual

I was fearful sitting in the small black coach on the plush red seats, my bags all close to me.  I should be happy after such a good season of performance and my wages in hand enough to last me until our performances spark up once again once summer is over. Even though we were far into spring it was still dark, stormy and grey causing the sky to loom low often letting loose small showers. And of course that caused what little roads we had to fudge up with thick cakey mud from the periods of spring heat and spring storms constantly wetting and drying the dirt and clay. There were times between here and home that had cobbles or stone and that was, believe me, a welcome change even if it made the bumps much harder to sit through. It wouldn't be long till I was home to see my mother and my sister's as well as the house. Especially after the long season in hotels and small apartment rentals it'll be nice to be at home in my own bed. 

However being so close to home meant what little sunlight we had was gone, the roads nothing more than muddy paths lined on either side by thick unforgiving forest. 

And that's what caused my fear. I knew of those who linger in the dark to cause chaos by the time you saw them it was already too late. So I kept my valuables close and my eyes peeled. Just as it began to rain again, suddenly we stopped and I assumed we were once again stuck in mud but the door to the coach opened to a figure all in black pointing a pistol at me immediately I put my hands up to surrender they forced me out to stand beside my driver in the thick mud and I got a better look.

They had tall black boots, black tights, their body hidden below a black cloak and hat but a long braid of y/h/c hair came far down their back. A black horse stood blocking our path.

they pulled back their cloak and I was in utter disbelief it was - a woman! And she was pretty damn beautiful. In a tight black dress short enough that it didn't even hit her knees, with a leather corset around her waist, A silk violet mask across her eyes concealing her identity with a dark purple lipstick to match. "Your money or your life empty your pockets" she demanded holding out her hat upside down offering us to fill it my driver did as she asked handing over some coins he had "both of you" she demanded turning her attention to me I sighed and emptied my pocket of change "all of them" she ordered I really didn't want to simply emptying another pocket of my pencil and odd little trinkets but she was smart, smart enough to know I was holding out on her. "You must think your coach needs a new set of paint, I'll be happy to send your blood all over that nice red interior. Now I'll ask you again empty your pockets and I'll let you live" she says 

I sighed and emptied my pockets of my watch, my coins and anything else I had rattled around. Which seemed to please her and I was happy she didn't want to look any further given I had a year's wages in my bag.

She counted it all up from her hat and smiled returning the hat to her head "thank you very much gentlemen, I'm sure you understand I can't lingerie all day" she smiled coming closer giving my cheek a kiss leaving a kiss of her violet lipstick there before she climbed on her horse and scampered away into the woods. 

"Well congrats Mr Brawne, you just got robbed. By the violet highway girl too" my driver chuckled

I was beyond fearful, to be honest I was kinda shitting myself. But also kinda excited. It's a weird emotion. Like I had vampire bats in my stomach. I had to go to the nearby town to do some postage and such but there was only one way in and one way out meaning I had to take my horse alone down that same road I was robbed on mere weeks ago. And just in time a storm had come over creating a dark misty day. I was scared of being robbed, especially alone but part of me was kinda excited to see her again. 

I made sure to step carefully through the trees watching all around me in hope to keep myself alert while also watching to make sure nothing spooked the horse. I jumped suddenly as I headed a pistol shot echo across the sky the horse got scared but luckily I managed to keep him settled 

"Whoa whoa whoa" I told him "it's okay, probably just a farmer" 

"Guess again" her voice smirked as I felt the cold business end of a pistol against my temple. It was still warm against my skin meaning she was the one who just fired. She wore the same as last I saw her "Hummm I believe we've done this merry dance before. Your money or your life if you'd be so kind"

"No. You just fired. So you don't have a shot in there" 

"Don't I?" She smirked moving her pistol away and firing up into the air she did in fact have a shot and that scared my horse so much it threw me off into the dirt and bolted back towards town she climbed down from her own horse which a sly smirk she got a knife from a holster on her thigh and pressed it to my neck "your money or your life, please" 

"I don't have any money." I told her 

"Don't you? Let's just see about that" she smirked forcing me up and my face into the tree she took a tie from her dress and bound my hands behind my back so I had no hope of escape or of resistance. She kept me there as she searched my pockets. I had to admit as demoralizing as it was to be restrained and forcefully searched. It was… kinda fun. Feeling her hands slipping in my pockets and digging around for anything she could find often rubbing on the cotton fabric that concealed our skin from connecting, especially when she did the front pockets of my trousers given at points her hands were pretty dangerously close to … intimate areas. And she found my new watch.

"What's this then?" She smirked

"Fine but that's all I have on me" I told her 

"I'm not sure I should believe you. You'd be surprised where people hide things" she Cooes pinching my butt 

"Madam!" I yelped in shock 

"Your adorable Samuel" she giggled

"S- how do you know my name?"

"I know more than you think" she Cooes "where is all your money then?"

"On the horse that just bolted" I sighed 

"I see. And we both know one little watch isn't enough for my trouble" she warns turning me to face her

"Please. Please. Please don't hurt me"

"you have very nice clothes Samuel" she Cooes "remove them" she demanded 

"W-What?" 

"Remove them If you'd be so kind" she smiled holding the knife to my neck and untiring my hands I knew I didn't have a choice unbuttoning them and stepping out she happily took them and folded them over her arm "your jacket too" she demanded I sighed but did as she asked slipping my jacket off and handing it over immediately I tried to use my shirt to cover everything of me given I had my shirt and my long John's and that's it I was already getting very cold "very nice thank you" she Cooes 

"Their hardly worth anything it won't be worth selling" I told her 

"Hummm… your right" she smirked "well then it seems we so have a lot of options"

Why did I say anything I could have just shut the fuck up and this could have been over by now, she forced my arms behind me again and forced me to walk into the woods away from the road tugging her horse behind her I was convinced she was walking me deeper to the woods to shoot me and leave me for dead and soon enough we reached and clearing and I felt her pistol on my shoulder "sit" she demanded I did my best not to panic doing as she asked sitting in the grass 

"Against the tree" she says 

So I moved back to lean against the tree, I'm going die. She's gonna shoot me. Or hang me. Of knife me. I don't wanna die I had some much stuff I wanted to -

She came over pistol in hand but she kicked of her tights then sat on my lap her legs either side of me her pistol still in hand as she moved closer and pressed her lips to my own at first I was in utter shock as she pulled back 

"Uuuuuuuhhh" 

"Stay quiet or I'll blow your brains out" she warns 

"Uuuuuuuhhh okay" I nodded 

She smirked and began to push herself Against me hard grinding on me intensely so much so my eyes rolled back and my jaw dropped feeling her moving so harshly on me as soon as I got hard she used it to her advantage riding on me with the fabric between us until she smirked and gave my cheek a kiss “Pleasure, we’ll have to do it again sometime” she smirked before she got up took my stuff got on her horse and headed off into the woods 

“Uhhhh….fuck” I sighed 

[krikeymate]

Part 2 of the Jason and Greg AU please and thank you!!! :D

Someone else has saved me from trying to figure out how this all goes down, love you, folks. Part 1 here.

Jason leaves Sam to stew overnight. Her fear and desperation will only enhance the movie, make the kill more delicious. Greg pops by in the early hours of the morning to savour the scene himself.

Tara Carpenter, alone and helpless, taped to a bolted-down chair. There's no escape for her. The perfect victim, damned for being loved. Her story will be a tragedy, and people will eat it up. Greg brushes her hair back from her face. Their perfect little victim, the little sister. Jason runs the knife lightly across her cheek, it's so sharp that even the slightest pressure splits her open. He savours the blood that begins to leak. He wants more, to see how much blood her body holds, to see how much she can take... but Greg is side-eying him, pulling the knife away. "We need her alive," he says. "Do we?" Jason replies.

They take more pictures, this time on their burner phones. The picture quality isn't as good, it doesn't quite capture the beauty of the display, but needs must. They don't want to be caught, they don't want to be tracked. They have to finish the movie.

~

Quinn's father was less than useless. What good is the police if they can't even track one phone?! Her sister is all alone out there, at the mercy of some psychopaths. They could have done anything to her, they could be doing anything to her... she could be... no. No. Tara's alive, she's fine, she has to be. They won't- This is about Sam. They won't kill her, they want Sam. Oh god, Tara doesn't even have her inhaler, and she's missed two doses now. Sam's worst nightmares are unfolding before her very eyes.

This is her fault. She should have- she should have tried harder to convince Tara to stay in, she should have supported her better, maybe then Tara wouldn't constantly be hiding from her, trying to escape from her. Maybe if she had just been better this wouldn't have happened.

Sam can't stop looking at the picture.

She's spent the entire night roaming the streets, interrogating drunk partygoers, screaming at Chad and Mindy for letting Tara out of their sight after they promised they would look out for her, yelling at the police to do something. Sam's exhausted, and the sight of her father in the mirror is only the cherry on the cake. He doesn't even say anything, just stands there and stares. There's something in his eyes that says it'll be ok. Sam hates how it reassures her. Her phone rings.

"Hello, Samantha. I hear your sister is missing, I hope she's ok."

"Fuck you."

"Well, now, that's not very nice, is it? And here I was, calling to offer my help."

"Now listen here yo-"

"Nuhuhuh. You listen to me. We're going to play a game, Samantha. If you win, you get your sister back. If you lose, well, I guess she'll need to lose something too."

~

Jason and Greg think they're so clever, those stupid little boys. Bailey knows all about their secret little phones, their plans, the little games they're playing with Sam and her friends. He wants to get it over with, take his revenge on Sam and be done with it, but Ethan and Quinn convinced him to wait. They say it's better this way, that they can swoop in at the last minute and get our revenge while those two do all the dirty work and take the fall.

It's perfect.

~

Sam stumbles into the shrine still splattered in Chad's blood. She played their fucking games, she sacrificed three fucking people for a picture, a clue, a trail to her sister. But she's here now. She has to be here.

There's a figure up on the stage, slumped in a chair, and Sam doesn't think twice before running to it. There's a voice in her ear saying it's a trap. She doesn't care.

It's Tara, oh god, it's Tara.

Sam rips the tape off her mouth and taps at her face, begging her to wake up. There's a number of shallow cuts across her face and shoulders, down her arms and legs, rips in her shirt that hide more underneath. There's so much blood, it's everywhere, but she's breathing, her heart is beating. She's ok, she's ok, right?

Tara gazes up at her with half-lidded eyes. She mumbles something that Sam thinks is her name, and Sam throws herself forward to wrap her arms around her, choking back the sob that threatens to escape. This has been the worst 24 hours of her life.

She pulls back, fingers grazing against her sister's cheeks, searching her eyes. She finds pain, confusion, and relief.

Sam leans back and begins to cut at the tape around Tara's wrists. One is free when a scraping noise draws her attention.

A figure in a Ghostface costume and mask walks slowly from the side entrance, dragging their knife across the wall. Another walks through the display room, up to the stage.

"We've been waiting for you, Samantha," the Ghostface in the display room speaks.

"Well, here I am. Would have been here sooner if you didn't want to play stupid games," Sam replies, covertly dropping the knife into Tara's lap.

"Oh they weren't our games, but they certainly were stupid. Still, I have to give them credit, they were creative. I've always admired creativity."

"They?"

"Jason and Greg, of course. The ones who took your sister, who lured you here. That was all them. But don't worry about it, they're going to be punished for it. Well, Jason will. Greg's in a few too many pieces to take accountability for his actions."

[izzy-b-hands]

I know everyone on here only knew her via my occasional posts about work (back when I worked at the clinic in ND), but I wanted to post a small something about Pam, in honour of her passing today.

Pam had been at the clinic longer than any of us. And she was truly one of those employees that helped keep things running. She knew each doctor (but the MDs in particular, always the pickier and more needy than the ODs) like the back of her hand, in both scheduling requirements and overall likes and hates and needs. At first, she scared the ever-loving fuck out of me. She could be gruff, and occasionally outright mean, though I will always be grateful to her for the kindness she showed me compared to other trainees. Some of that may have come at first because she knew/worked alongside my mum for a few years prior to my being hired, but in time I found out that she simply did like me. Appreciated that I wanted to work hard and be better at everything in my life. Understood that life hadn't necessarily been kind or fair to me or my family and understood that well, because it hadn't been to her either.

Occasionally she'd be gone from work due to her Crohn's, and other chronic issues, and that was only what she'd tell you about. The implication was that, while she overall was quite happy with how things had ended up, there had been a lot of rough shit in between that had toughened Pam up a lot. It made her seem impossible to get to know to some, but I can say it was worth the work. Underneath the shell she'd had to grow to get through, there was a very kind, understanding woman who genuinely wanted the best for those she saw as doing their best in a world that's not easy for anyone to live in, even in the best of times and circumstances.

I admit, we did all encourage less than ideal parts of each other. She smoke too much and drank too much (and during the time in my life when I drank, we overdid it on her favourite long island iced teas more than once during happy hour after work.) But it helped to deal with things as work at the clinic got harder and things changed, unfortunately for the worse both for staff and patients (but I digress on that. The place is still running with Pam and I and many others gone, like any other privately owned rural clinic. When they're one of the few places open for care, they always straggle on no matter what they do to anyone else.) None of the above mentioned changed how fucking hard she worked though, and how she'd put her own job on the line to help out coworkers and patients alike whenever the chance arose.

That said, we helped get each other through the rougher days, and she gave me fantastic life advice in the times in between. Advice that finally helped get me out of ND, in fact, when it became clear that living there was no longer safe. Some of her best bits that I've engraved into my head are: 'there's always another job out there, another place to live, another person to meet that might be a friend to you. Don't let despair override your chance at something better, kinder, or easier. Take the treats that you can in life, whether that's a good drink or a favourite food or outing (she enjoyed the casino herself.) Don't worry too much about overindulging, because the time here is too fucking short anyway for it to matter in the way you think it will. Live your life, and feel it all in full, because it'll go by you faster than you expect.'

So tonight, with Housemate, I'm going to try and take her advice. I'm going to let myself be sad and miss her. I'll let myself be sad that it happened the way it did (barely a few days in hospice, from a cancer that it seems she didn't know about until very near the end. I only hope they had good meds to help her not hurt so much and that they let her have a few drinks and cigarettes if she wanted them.) We'll eat a good dinner, with food and drink that we like, and we'll look to see what we can send for flowers to her funeral (her sisters and nephews, I'm told, are doing their best to set it all up, but aside from that and past coworkers, I don't know if there's much of anyone else left to go to it or send anything. The least I can do to thank her for treating me with kindness and care when others didn't is to send flowers, I think.)

And I'll have a little, non-alcoholic, toast to her life and memory. May her memory be a blessing, and may whatever there is after this life be kind to Pam. She deserves that and more.

[oliviaamendola]

[ 𝕥𝕖𝕩𝕥 ] - 𝓉𝑜𝓂 & 𝑜𝓁𝒾𝓋𝒾𝒶

tom: do we come to the reality that friendships as adults is just another area in out adult lives that we have to figure out? i do miss the days when you could just say you liked someone's shirt on a playground and they become your best friend. i try to be but you're kind and i can't overlook that. it takes a lot to be kind these days. it was lovely to see you in berlin, love. did you have a good time getting to be a part of the culture? it fascinating to be at a proper oktoberfest. when i tell you that mia loved getting to meet you, i truly mean that. she absolutely loved your little family and that makes me realize we need to get together more often. care to make this a monthly thing? now that would be hilarious to see! went the opposite direction on the skills but how lovely your house would be when he's older and can play music for you all. christmas carols on the piano? i may have to crash your holidays. i have a feeling that scarlett and mia will be running over these boys before they even know it. i can only send pictures if you promise to send me them in return because this smile? why are they always so precious when they don't have teeth? pure gums. she's got a beauty to her then and i have no doubt that she gets it from you. would you say that weston looks more like danny then? i can see the similarities in their features. oh, i would never. besides, we all get overly emotional about our kids. they're our greatest treasures, least that's how i see it so you're fully warranted to go off about how much you adore them. they're yours and the best parts of you, yeah? has it been nice having kids close together? i tend to think about having more kids, now more than i ever have because mia is getting closer to being one but... it's mental thinking about her growing up and being a big sister eventually. i know that i'm ready but i just need the greenlight from nat since she's the one that calls that shots. she had a relatively easy pregnancy with mia but i want her to be ready more than anything. one of five? ah, one more and i am so i do get it. are you the youngest? oldest, like me? how has the season been going for danny?

Liv: it's just harder. when you're a kid, you see your friends every day at school or in the neighborhood. when you're an adult, your friends could be all over the world so it takes actual effort to keep the friendship. which i don't hate at all, because the people who want to be in your life make that effort. it doesn't mean you talk every day, but effort is effort in my eyes. what's the sense in being mean? feels like a wasted effort in my opinion. germany was really fun! i'd never been before so it was amazing to be there during such an iconic time. big fan of the dirndl. have you been before? aww, what a sweetheart! mia is stunning and you might have a little model on your hands. can we? i could kiss her cute little cheeks all day long and scarlett loved having someone a little more alert than her brother to play with. if you ever want to come to vegas to catch a game, let me know. though i wouldn't be offended if vegas is the last place you want to visit 😂 my entire family is musical – we all sing and play at least one instrument. danny has a nice voice and plays the guitar, so it's really not an option that these kids will be musical in some way. you're more than welcome to crash any time, especially if we're in rhode island because christmas there is nothing short of pure magic. of course! you don't have to ask me twice considering my camera roll is mostly of them. and you better be sending mia pics in exchange! aww, thank you. obviously i think she's gorgeous but it's nice hearing it from an unbiased source too! a little bit! his eyes are darker, but he reminds me a lot of scarlett so it'll be interesting to see if he grows more into his amendola side. ideal for me, because a mini danny would be the cutest thing! hopefully they're the best parts of us. it's all any parent wants for their kids, right? i've enjoyed their close age range. it's hard right now because they're both so dependent on us but i think that they'll be close when they're older. and it helps that we're still on diaper duty with scarlett so we didn't get spoiled with having to go back to them. i've heard that's the worst, haha! one is still little, but there's no right or wrong way to go. you have to do what's best for you and your family, and sometimes it just happens and it's a nice surprise when it does. whether mia is one or eleven, she's going to be an amazing big sister! smart man to realize it's your wife who calls the shots! every pregnancy is different too. scarlett was a fairly quick birth and weston came twice as fast, which was slightly terrifying but not at the same time since we had already been through it once before. you're the oldest? how old is your youngest sibling? no, i'm right in the middle – the neglected middle child, which speaks so much to my personality haha! @tcmhcll

[batboyblog]

thank you so much. your words are so sweet and thoughtful, you are a very lovely person for taking your time to talk to a stranger online when you had no obligation to. you're incredibly kind.

it's incredibly funny that you mention challah specifically, because one of the things i did after learning about grandma's story was researching a lot more about jewish customs in eastern europe. in doing so, i learned about babka. it's a bread with chocolate rolled into the dough, something i grew up eating - mostly my mom's version, but when we visited my grandparent's house grandma would make it for us with crushed walnuts. i loved it so much as a kid one of my first worries when my teeth started changing was 'how am i gonna eat grandma's chocolate bread now'. We called it chocolate bread, because up until the point of my research I had no idea it was called babka, or that it was a jewish desert from eastern europe. i keep catching these little things our family does that i thought nothing of until now, and that i keep learning are jewish customs. i have no idea how grandma managed to keep the recipe for it, she was so young when she migrated. maybe it was her sister, she was 4 years or so older. and to think that it survived to me and my cousin is striking. grandma is very old now, so i dont want to talk to her about this and risk upsetting her or making her sad, and i wish id had their brother to talk to - from what our aunt says, he was a lot more open about being jewish, albeit not about having fled Poland. So this has been a unique conversation for me. Thank you for letting me open up.

What you say about learning touches me. I want to learn more, to keep learning about this and to do so before Grandma passes on. She and her siblings were so brave, it's an honor to even think of having that story with me.

i hope you know deep in your heart that your words have given me a warmth like none other. thank you.

I love babka! and it is amazing they kept the recipe (and wonderful)

if you like cooking/baking I'd recommend picking up King Solomon's Table, Honey Cake & Latkes: Recipes from the Old World by the Auschwitz-Birkenau Survivors, The Book of Jewish Food, Modern Jewish Baker by Shannon Sarna, Jew-ish by Jake Cohen

any ways on your grandmother, in the last few years my 3 living grandparents passed away in their 90s and I miss them very much. I found each of them much more interested in telling their stories, talking about people who died before my parents were born. This was particularly true after my grandfather's older brother passed and my grandmother's sister. I think we as people have a need to share and an obligation to speak of the dead. I don't know her, but I hope you get to talk about this or at least some part of it, ask whose babka recipe it is, did her mother teach them both? or just her older sister who showed her? or was it their big brother? were they bakers in the old country? I know it gave my grandmother a great deal of comfort when she got Alzheimer's to share photos of her parents with us and tell their story before it was too late, I think focusing on the end of the story is maybe a mistake, she had a life before that and I hope maybe she can remember it for what it was, good.

We're all running out of time with them, every year they do The March of the Living, a march between Auschwitz and Birkenau, in 2019 the march was lead by 70 survivors, in 2022 the first post-Covid march, just 8 and people are saying it might be the last that has any... time is running out. When they're gone, it won't be gone, but our ability to... touch it, to see past horror to find the people the real people, it'll be so much harder

oh I'd also recommend Born to Kvetch, Just say Nu, and Rhapsody in Schmaltz by Michael Wex since at a guess Yiddish was your grandma's first language.

any ways good luck with all this, I do think you should talk with your grandma, just be sensitive in how you do it

shalom and good luck.

[pervertfemme]

just want to make my big sis proud! wanna learn from you, i'll do anything to please you sis!! whatever you want. can't wait for you to teach me how to kiss! teach me how to make a woman feel good. even if i get a girlfriend, you're gonna be all i think about. how well you touched me before her, how easy you made my tcock throb. i'll forever be reminded of my big sister.

getting a lil ahead of myself. hope u don't mind. :3

Okay okay hear me out because now I'm just thinking of manipulating and exploiting an innocent little brother </333

Every time you take your testosterone, your big sister is there to help you. She claims she's just "looking out for you, supporting you through your transition." If you do t-shots, she's there to make sure you "don't mess it up" and do your injections right. If you can't do it yourself, she does it for you. After all, safety is important. You're both adults but maybe your parents actually even told her to supervise you for that reason, because you can never be too careful. (Little do they know...)

Every time you take it, she gives you a new "reward" to groom you into associating testosterone with arousal because you're doing something good for yourself, even if the shot hurts a little or swallowing a big pill is uncomfortable.

SOMEONE has to teach you about girls, so you don't go around "breaking girls' hearts," and it may as well be her. First, she makes you kiss her. Even if you do nothing wrong, she pretends you suck at it, just so she can kiss you more.

Then you get to see her tits. She even lets you touch and squeeze them. You don't wanna gape at a girl like an idiot the first time you see her naked, do you? What if you hurt her feelings and make her cry because you're just too stupid to do or say anything?? You don't wanna embarrass yourself like that, do you? (You jerk off to the thought of her tits later that night. How soft and supple they felt in your palms).

You can't help but feel like you'd get in so much trouble for it if anyone found out, but your little routine with her continues. With the next T dose, she sucks you off for the first time, telling you how "lucky you are" and that you'd better keep taking your T so your cock can keep growing. But it's fine for now, she says, because it'll get bigger in her mouth.

And when you finally do get a girlfriend...? Oh, she's not going to let you forget who made you into the man you are.

Asking you out of the blue one day, "So, have you fucked her yet?" And you sputter, denying it. I mean, after all the times she's ranted at you about the fact you "have to be a gentleman," you haven't exactly gone that far yet.

She convinces you into practicing with her. Grinds her ass on you through your jeans in those slutty shorts of hers until she can hear you breathing harder. And then she makes you fuck her the way she likes it. Maybe you keep that girlfriend, maybe you don't... all you know now is that you'll never cum harder than when you're inside your own sister.

[christiewryte]

oc asks that reveal more than you think (responses!)

1 Morn: Mother told her she was too old for stuffed animals when she was 8.

1 Fahda: Handed hers down years ago, but misses them sometimes.

2 Morn: Oh, plants are easy. She can handle plants, no problem. Plants are routine. She can do routine. Pets... she's never had a pet. She thinks she could handle one fine. They're mostly a routine, too, right? Children... well, as long as they're old enough to be obedient, she should be fine?

2 Fahda: Oh goddess, no, do not hand her a plant. She will forget entirely about it by day 5, latest. Kids and critters she's fine with, they can both remind her when they need something.

3 Morn: "Oh, well, Fahda's... um... well... Where to start... She's... well, gorgeous, obviously, you have eyes. And cool, and creative, in... a violent sort of way... but... What really gets me is... she's so warm. She's like a warm blanket that throws itself on me when I come out of the rain. And bundles me up, and makes me feel safe, and warm, and... wanted... and... known."

(i.e., "She can fix me.")

3 Fahda: "Morn... She reminds me of the ocean. Vast, and deep, and dark. She's mysterious, and full of terrifying things I could only see in my nightmares. But I keep feeling this force pulling me deeper, and deeper, until there, under all this horrifying pitch and bone there's this wet, shivering little puppy, and I just want to gut anything that would lay a finger on her."

(i.e., "I can fix her.")

4 Morn: No one knows, and no one ever will, because she has never, and will never, wear red.

4 Fadha: Hell yeah, she's straight fire in red. Especially whenever she's got her hair dyed that good fiery orange she likes.

5 Morn: Oh, clots, she wasn't prepared for this. Um, uh, does she have to? Like, in an official capacity? Okay... (crudcrudcrud...)

5 Fahda: Short and sweet, Cheers to whoever earned it!

6 Morn: The only person she found harder to refuse than her ex was her mother. Not that either of them were giving "advice," so much as ultimatums.

6 Fahda: Her sister and godmother have her ear for anything. The old drillmaster never offers input on anything unless it's worthwhile. Her bestie's about 50/50, her squire's a brat. Anyone from the upper crust is totally tuned out.

7 Morn: "As the future queen, I must be absolute, incorruptible, and penitent. I'm... working the 'absolute' part."

7 Fahda: "I'm a sexy, badass outlaw-warrior-princess, and yes, that was only three, I hyphenated."

8 Morn: Intrigued until she hits a wall for too long, then crumbles to frustration easily.

8 Fadha: Has no patience for puzzles... unless you frame it as a competitive game.

9 Morn: Sapient >>> Sentient > Living > Inorganic, but BOY is it honestly starting too high for sapients. Like, to an actually problematically self-sacrificing extent.

9 Fahda: Develops deep sentimental attachment to things, but still sees a separation between sentient and nonsentient.

10 Morn: Either 5, or, like 30. Everything was simpler when she was 5, and surely she'll have her life figured out by the time she's 30, right?

10 Fahda: Eh, maybe 23-ish? Get a few more years training and experience under her belt, and she'll be even more unstoppable than she already is, but honestly she's never felt any pressing desire to be any age than she's been in the present. Not since she was 8, anyway.

11 Morn: Save. The village is very efficiently self-sufficient, but it'll be good to have something to fall back on in an emergency. The Red Ears always need additional funding for their work, too.

11 Fahda: SPLURGE!! ...about 10%, then invest the rest into the clan. We need equipment upgrades, building materials for housing improvements, so much for medical care for both our people and our horses...

12 Morn: There are books with romance in them???

12 Fahda: Every story's better with a little sauce.

13 Morn: Her mother taught her obedience, shame, and magic.

13 Fahda: Her mother taught her about equality, and now to read and write in three languages. Her father taught her to be kind, and lots of card games and variant rules. Her godmother taught her to strike with intent, and a finger-training exercise to use for stimming.

14 Morn: All pleasure is guilty.

14 Fahda: That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard.

15 Morn: Bodily functions and malfunctions, like using the bathroom, menstruation, and getting sick. All massive time sinks people only put up with because they have no choice.

15 Fahda: Anything to do with the upper crust that isn't robbing them.

16 Morn: Money isn't what's stopping her from dressing differently.

16 Fahda: Dresses and armor. Almost all of her armor is cuir bouilli if not soft leather, and while that mostly works for her, she would kill for some steel gear to supplement. A chain shirt would be a good start, but oh boy, what she would do to get her hands on a lame breastplate.

As for dresses, she's never had a real fancy dress since she was a little girl, the kind that only comes out for real special occasions, or when you've just gotta leave that special someone breathless. Maybe one of those ones with the shimmery fabric that seems to dance when you move, or the risque ones with the daring cutouts or sheer sections.

Oh! And replace her entire wardrobe with silk and cotton. Nice, lovely, smooth silks and soft cottons that don't make her feel like she's breaking out in hives every time she gets dressed.

17 Morn: Kids make her feel responsible, and she has enough of that on her plate already, thank you. She's trying not to think too hard about the day she inevitably needs to produce an heir.

17 Fahda: She loves playing with kids and is happy to look after them in the short term, but wears out of patience if their actual caregivers aren't prompt about taking them off her hands when they're supposed to. She looks forward to parenthood in the unspecified future, but isn't about to put a time frame on when.

18 Morn: Tongue, but build up to it.

18 Fahda: Not opposed, but needs warning.

19 Morn: Flashcards and studyplan review until dawn, ride the stress high through the event, then crash hard as soon as pencils are down.

19 Fahda: That's what all the training you did up until now was for. It's called the "calm before the storm" because you should be relaxing and letting all your tension drain away so you go into the fight fresh and clear.

20 Morn: Pigeons.

20 Fahda: Not exactly something that no one else likes, but she appreciates light, soft, and smooth textured clothing far more than anyone else she knows. Fahda is extremely sensitive to certain textures, and a lot of common clothing materials are unbearably uncomfortable on her skin, wool being one of the biggest offenders.

21 Morn: Her ex literally dumped her, cursed her, disappeared for 3 years, betrayed their people, practiced dark magic, arrested her, drugged her, scheduled her for execution, stabbed her, planned to release an eldritch abomination for revenge, and Morn was still holding onto hope until the bitch tried to kill her for like the third time.

21 Fahda: Has dumped people for chewing with their mouth open.

22 Morn: Has some trauma around pet names from her ex. Fahda has special permission for therapeutic purposes. Doesn't usually do petnames herself, but fell into using a common one from Fahda's mother tongue as one of the first terms she successfully committed to memory once she started trying to learn.

22 Fahda: Nicknames anyone she doesn't get an actual name for within moments of encountering. Sometimes they stick. Calls Morn "Storm cloud," after her pretty gray eyes and stormy disposition. Loves whenever Morn calls her by hers.

23-25 Morn: Stability, charity, safety.

23-25 Fahda: Novelty, honesty, possibility.

26 Morn: Talent is a ceiling that no effort can pass, however heartfelt.

26 Fahda: You've gotta have both if you're gonna make it, but effort's definitely more admirable.

27 Morn: Forgiveness. I have no right to hold anyone to higher account than myself.

27 Fahda: Vengeance. Some crimes are unforgivable.

28 Morn: *blushes and hides face* "Sh-shut up!"

28 Fahda: *smirks and leans into her* "I didn't say anything~."

29 Morn: Has literally been cursed with the same recurring nightmare every night for the last three years from her ex, reinterpreting their breakup as a betrayal on Morn's part with generous eldritch abstraction.

29 Fahda: Doesn't remember her dreams, but has a vague sense she often dreams about the night her mother and father died.

30 Morn: "I'd be happy if it could just pay off the burden of my foremothers. To be granted a clean slate... sigh."

30 Fahda: "Like, legally, or emotionally? Because if legally, I'd gut the Goat and decorate his palace ramparts with his entrails like festival garlands. Emotionally... I guess I'd chew my sister out for all the things that piss me off about how she runs the clan."

[cordelianewman]

No, you haven't, but I'm just saying that you can't start now. Too late, not that I think you're going to, but figured it's kind of one of those -- let me point out the obvious. Wait till you have to pull out more blonde hair out of the drain because Rosalyn's hair is getting longer and it's just as blonde as mine. Maybe every once and a while I could get along with going outside and letting you keep me warm in between since I don't see us taking long to grill the steaks. Mainly because we'd be grilling a burger or hot dog for Rosalyn since she's not quite up to chomping on a whole steak yet. She likes a few bites but that's about it, nor is it enough to keep her belly filled. It's only a matter of time before crushes are going to happen, even at a young age. She likes dancing, a lot, she also really enjoys gymnastics, and that will keep her busy if she's always doing that. Men are assholes, but not all men, but it's something we're inevitably going to have to deal with when she comes home and says she likes a boy from kindergarten and then says she loves a boy, even though she won't have a clue what that means, but will be going off of seeing us in a healthy relationship. It'll be cute, and you will not be attempting to strike the fear into a five year old when that time comes. Nor sending her older brother to do just that either. You don't have to worry about that, he signed his rights away all too easily, he has no plans on coming back for her, and you don't have to worry about coming up against walls that will suddenly make everything harder. It's selfish that I wish I could just legally put you on the birth certificate and let you be the father, but given later in life, depending on health she has a right to know, I know that we will have to be honest. You haven't, and honestly, I loved being pregnant with her. Okay, I grumbled but I was on my feet working two jobs, I was tired, but it went really well. I have ultrasounds and photos I can show you if you're interested. Aside from needing the epidural everything went smoothly, so I'm not really worried about pregnancy other than how difficult it might be getting pregnant the older I get. You'll always make sure I'm safe and healthy, but you also have to be calm. We may only get one shot at this and I want you to enjoy this, ever moment of it. When it happens. I can talk to my doctor, see what she says about coming off birth control, I don't want to do it this near the wedding in case it could mess with hormones without discussing it with her first. I mean.. not necessarily, there are techniques of taking temperatures and tracking cycles to make sure you're not having sex when you're likely to get pregnant. It's a natural form of birth control, apparently. Something I can talk to the doctor about, I will make an appointment this upcoming week or next.

Kellan will survive it's not like he doesn't end up baking the blueberries into delicious muffins to sell, so he can't be that heartbroken! Is that what he's into blondes? Because I have a few friends who are blonde. Or is he a brunette? Red head? I'm just saying I have friends of all kinds. I would like to enjoy our honeymoon, and I can get a leave from school due to it, but I want to celebrate Colton so I'm figuring after the fact. I get it, but kids at this age feel like they're much more grown up then they are. I mean, I hate to be the one to point it out but I was fifteen when we -- you know... decided we were ready for those adult steps. I'm not saying we should encourage it, of course, but we need to be more level headed because it's not something you want to traumatize him with or embarrass him. Think talking to him together might be good, or I can talk to him first and then you come in and we talk together, set some ground rules. Mainly because I get there's always chances it could happen, but in our house, there's rules to be respected. If he's watching his sister there's no sneaking off with the girlfriend to get handsy, Rosalyn's safety comes first. There's also just general respect for his body and her body. So maybe, going at it from that way and it will hold him off for awhile longer. If not, thinking bribing will work? No sex until after eighteen and you'll get so much money for a car or something? Maybe not the best idea but I'm thinking off the top of my head here.

Okay, but basically what I said still applies -- have I ever complained about you? Other than your cold feet pressed against my calves all night, or when I have to pull long blonde hairs out of the shower drain, but I've even come to love those little things about you. I think you actually would come out in the cold to help me grill if I offered to wrap my arms around you and give you one of those great big, enveloping bear hugs and not let you go, though, that's the catch. But don't worry, the food won't freeze, I'll be sure to get it back to the house, safe and sound. No frozen steaks. I'm already having a midlife crisis over one of my kids, can we not bring the idea forward of Rosalyn having a crush on football players, please? Maybe she should just stuck with dancing, she likes dancing, right? Unless you tell me she's got a crush on someone in her dance class, and then I give up. I know, logically, I know that. But I also know that men are stubborn, and assholes are, well, assholes. And I just had this thought in my head that he would fight it just for the sake of fighting it, argue tooth and nail that he suddenly needed to be in her life, but I'm… I'm really glad that he's not, as awful as that sounds. I know that you will. And when the time comes that we need to tackle those big conversations with her, we will. I just want her to always remember me as the dad that tucked her in at night and helped her groom Beanstalk and let her watch Bluey late at night when she couldn't sleep. If I've achieved that, I've achieved everything. I don't think I've ever really asked you about your pregnancy with Rosalyn. I … don't even know if I've seen photos of you pregnant, now that I think about it? I'm sure I have, I'm pretty sure you have some here in the house, but I'm not really sure it ever registered in my mind as 'oh, hey, that's Cordelia, pregnant,' you know? But good, that's good -- that it was good, I mean. That… does make me feel a little better. And I know you wouldn't hide anything, I also just don't want you to be afraid to tell me things, because I want to work through it with you, step up and do what I have to do to make sure that you're safe and healthy. And try not to freak out, too, I know. It would, I guess we should probably both do that. If we… are serious about this -- and I don't mean trying tomorrow or something, I just mean, do you think you should come off of birth control now? Give your body time to adjust? God, I'm going to have buy condoms.

I really feel like we should probably not call the fruits children anymore, because it's going to get both of us in trouble when he finds out about all of the metaphorical situations we're putting his blueberries through. Oh, okay, good point. I'll stop my slow dancing with you and yell 'yo, Brooksie, the blonde hottie in the pink dress,' across the dance floor, that's very couth, very appropriate wedding behavior. Either after his birthday or immediately after the wedding, it depends on where you want to go and how long you want to be away for, but either way, we'll make a big deal out of his birthday. I mean, if he's not still grounded. I know. And I'm sorry that I haven't been the most level headed, I'm trying. I'm just starting to realize exactly how my dad must have felt inside, he was just better at not showing it outside. He's only fourteen, baby, he's a kid. I want him to be a kid, I want them both to be kids, you know? I'm going to talk to him, sit him down and have an honest, open discussion about what's going on, but… I don't know, part of me thinks -- maybe he would feel more comfortable, or maybe it would be more beneficial if you talked to him, too? Or maybe if we both talked to him, together?