#this was so good I loved the build up so much!!

[woninggg]

Distraction—崔胜澈

You tag along to the gym with Seungcheol, but you’re more interested in watching him than actually working out(NSFW)

"Come on, you're just gonna sit there?" Seungcheol whined, tossing his towel over his broad shoulders.

You looked up from your phone, your eyes lazily tracing the contours of his muscular body as he moved through the empty gym. The overhead lights bounced off the sweat that beaded on his skin, creating a teasing glow.

You bit your lip, contemplating his question. The gym was not where you had planned to spend your afternoon, but here you were, tagging along with your boyfriend.

"I might just do that," you replied, smiling coyly. The coolness of the air conditioning kissed your skin as you leaned back on the bench. You knew it annoyed him when you didn't participate, but you also loved teasing him and who are you to resist. "Or maybe I'll just watch you."

Seungcheol rolled his eyes, but you caught the hint of a smirk. He knew you weren't one to pass up the opportunity to admire his physique. He grabbed a set of weights and began to do some bicep curls, flexing dramatically as he did so. You couldn't help but laugh.

The sound of metal clanking against metal filled the space as he continued his workout, his movements precise and rhythmic. Each flex of his muscles made you want him more.

The gym was the perfect stage for his performance, and you were his devoted audience of one. The scent of sweat and iron mingled with the faint scent of his cologne, making it even harder to ignore the heat building between you.

Seungcheol finished his set and approached you, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. "You still don't want to join in ?" He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

You feigned innocence, looking up at him with a smirk. "I'm having a good time watching."

"Is that so?" He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. "Maybe I can find a way to make it more interesting for you."

With a swift motion, he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his defined torso. Your gaze followed the trail of dampness that had soaked into the fabric, and you felt your mouth go dry. The muscles of his abs rippled as he tossed the shirt aside, and you had to resist the urge to reach out and trace the lines of his body with your fingers.

"Better?" he asked, a smug grin spreading across his face.

Your eyes roamed over the expanse of his bare chest, taking in the way the light danced across his defined abs. You nodded, trying to keep your voice steady. "Much."

He took a step closer, the warmth of his body washing over you like a wave. "Good," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "Because I've got a little surprise for you."

With that, Seungcheol leaned down and scooped you up in his arms, the sudden motion making you let out a giggle. He carried you over to the nearby yoga mats, his biceps bulging with the effort. You squealed in surprise, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively as he placed you gently on the ground.

"Now, you're going to get a better show" he said playfully, the glint in his eyes told you that this was still all a game to him.

The coolness of the gym floor met your back as Seungcheol laid you down on the mat, his fingers tracing the line of your collarbone before retreating. He grabbed a pair of dumbbells, the metal cool against your palms as he placed them in your hands, trapping you. Your heart raced as he positioned himself over you, his bare chest mere inches away. The smell of sweat and cologne grew stronger, making it difficult to focus on anything but the heat of his body.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Seungcheol lowered himself down, placing his hands on the dumbbells. Your breath hitched as his fingers brushed against the sensitive skin of your neck. "Ready?" he whispered.

Before you could respond, he pushed off the ground, his body hovering above you as he began to do push-ups. Each time he descended, the pressure on your chest increased, sending waves of sensation through your body. You could feel the muscles in his arms tensing and releasing, as he moved up and down. Your eyes remained locked on his, fighting the urge to look below the waistband of his shorts, where his boner was becoming increasingly obvious.

You watched in awe as Seungcheol's muscles contracted and expanded with each push-up, his eyes never leaving yours. His breath grew heavier, and he started calling your name.

"Look at you," he murmured, his words coming out in short bursts as he continued his exercise. "So beautiful, watching me like that."

"Come on, baby," he panted, his voice low and gruff. "Let's see how long you can keep those pretty hands to yourself."

The sound of his voice, thick with arousal, was like a siren's call, making it impossible for you to ignore the ache that had started to build between your legs. You felt your own body responding, your nipples hardening against the fabric of your gym bra, and your pussy growing wetter with every passing second.

"Fuck, baby," Seungcheol groaned, his eyes darkening as he stared into yours. "Your tits look so good in that bra." He paused mid-push up, his body hovering just above yours. "I bet you want me to touch them, don't you?"

Your breath caught in your throat as his words painted a vivid picture in your mind. Your hands, trembling gripped the side of the mat, the dumbbells long forgotten. You watched in a haze as Seungcheol's body moved above you, His skin was slick with sweat now, droplets beading and rolling down his chest, landing on your skin."You like watching me, don't you?"

He murmured, his eyes hooded with lust. The sound of his voice was like a caress, sending shivers down your spine. Each time he went down, you felt his cock brush against your thigh. You wanted to touch him, to feel the weight of him on top of you, to have his hands all over your body.

"cheol," you whispered, your voice thick with need. "Please."

He paused again, his body hovering just above yours, the heat from his skin setting you on fire. "What do you want, baby?" he asked, his voice a gruff whisper.

Your eyes traveled down his body, taking in the sight of his arousal straining against his shorts. You bit your bottom lip, your heart racing. "I want you" you murmured, the words coming out as a desperate plea.

The sound of his breathing grew harsher, his abs tightening with each word that left his mouth. "Look how hard you're making me," he murmured, his eyes flickering down to the bulge in his shorts.

You couldn't take it anymore. You reached up interlocking your arms behind his neck, pulling him down into a messy kiss. The taste of his sweat mixed with the mint of his gum was intoxicating. His mouth was hot and eager, devouring yours as if he had been starving for it.

He groaned into your mouth, his body still moving rhythmically above you. The sensation of his cock sliding against your side was driving you wild.

Seungcheol's smirked, as he shifted his position slightly, the head of his cock now pressing against the side of your hip. "You want this, don't you?". He began to do push-ups again, each one slower and more deliberate. "You want to feel me inside you, don't you, baby?"

Breaking the kiss, you managed to get out, "Take these off." You nodded towards his shorts, the urgency in your voice clear.

Seungcheol chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours as he stood up, his abs flexing as he did. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts, pulling them down slowly, revealing his thick, hard cock.

Seungcheol's breath hissed out as you took him deep, your tongue swirling around the head of his cock. The sound of his pleasure spurred you on, and you began to bob your head, taking him in and out in a slow rhythm.

The taste of him filled your mouth, the salty sweetness making you moan around him. His hands found their way to your hair, his fingers threading through the strands as he guided your movements.

you got on your knees, gazing up at him, your mouth watering at the sight. You wrapped your hand around the base, feeling the warmth and power of his erection. You leaned in, taking a moment to admire the way the tip was flushed and glistening with pre-cum before taking him in your mouth.

You felt his muscles tighten as you took him deeper, your cheeks hollowing out as you sucked. His hips jerked slightly, and you knew you were driving him wild. The grip on your hair grew stronger, his breathing becoming more ragged with each stroke of your tongue. The veins in his cock throbbed against your lips, and you could feel his heart pounding through his cock.

You looked up at him through your lashes, watching the way his eyes rolled back in pleasure. The sight of him losing control was incredibly arousing, making you want to push him even further. You swirled your tongue around the sensitive head, teasing the slit before taking him back into your mouth, your teeth lightly grazing the underside.

Seungcheol's grip on your hair tightened as you deep-throated him, his hips bucking in response. His moans grew louder, echoing through the deserted gym. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, punctuated by his ragged breathing. You could feel his cock twitch and pulse in your mouth, a sign that he was close.

The salty taste of his pre-cum grew stronger as you sucked and licked, your hand moving in tandem with your mouth. You could see the muscles in his thighs tightening as he fought the urge to come. It was a power play you both enjoyed, you pushing him to the edge and watching him struggle to hold back.

Seungcheol's hands tightened around your hair, his knuckles turning white as you worked him over. The head of his cock hit the back of your throat with every stroke, and you felt a thrill of satisfaction knowing how much he enjoyed it.

As you worked him with your mouth, one hand still stroking him, while the other slid up his thigh, feeling the muscles quiver beneath your touch.

Seungcheol's eyes locked onto yours, a silent plea for you to keep going.

You moaned around him, the vibrations adding to his pleasure as you increased your pace. His hips began to move in time with your mouth, his cock sliding in and out of your wet lips. You felt the tension in his body build again, his muscles coiling tighter and tighter. His breaths grew shallower, his chest heaving as he neared climax.

Seungcheol's body stiffened, and his breaths grew erratic as he approached the edge. You could feel his cock starting to swell in your mouth, his precum flowing more freely, he was close you wanted to watch him come apart in your hands.

You pulled back slightly, letting just the tip rest on your tongue, teasing him mercilessly. His eyes snapped open, meeting yours, and you could see the desperation in them.

The sound of his pleasure filled the empty gym, bouncing off the walls and echoing back to you. You felt a thrill of power knowing that you were the one causing this strong, in-control man to lose his composure.

"Please, baby," he panted, his voice strained. "don't do this to me"

With a wicked smile, you took him in again, sucking harder and faster.

You didn't stop, the vibrations from his voice adding to the delicious tension building in your own body. You could feel your own arousal seeping through your gym shorts, the fabric growing damp as your pussy ached for his touch.

With a final, desperate thrust, Seungcheol pulled out of your mouth, his cock bobbing in front of your face. "I'm going to cum," he warned, his voice a low growl. You nodded eagerly, your eyes never leaving his. You leaned back slightly, tilting your head back, giving him the perfect view of your tits as you waited.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned, his voice strangled with pleasure. His legs quivered, and his abs clenched as you swirled your tongue around the head of his cock. "feels so good"

Seungcheol's hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it rapidly. With a loud groan, he came, thick ropes of cum shooting out and landing on your chest. The warmth of it made you gasp, your nipples tightening in response. You gasped as he painted your tits with his release, the sticky liquid coating your skin.

You sat back on your heels, watching the last of his orgasm pulse through him. His breathing was harsh, his body shaking with the aftermath of pleasure. You reached up with a trembling hand and touched the sticky mess on your chest, bringing your finger to your lips and tasting his release. The salty taste made your eyes roll back, and you couldn't help but moan.

"Fuck, baby," Seungcheol breathed, as he watched you lick your finger clean. The sight of you tasting him was too much for his still-sensitive cock, and it twitched with renewed interest. He stepped closer, his chest heaving with each breath, and you felt the heat of his body envelop you once again.

"Let's go home," you murmured, your voice a seductive whisper that sent a shiver down his spine. "I think we've had enough of a workout here."

Seungcheol's eyes widened with surprise, but the hunger in his gaze didn't fade. He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself as he took in the sight of you on your knees, your chest covered in his cum.

"You're insatiable," he murmured, a hint of awe in his voice. "But if that's what you want..." He stepped back, letting his cock slap against his stomach as he reached for his shorts, making you bite your lip, You knew you'd both want more once you were home, but for now, you needed a break from the intense atmosphere of the gym.

[uncle-fruity]

I really want to underline some truth:

I am a better activist and a more energetic and enthusiastic participant in the issues I care about now that I've stopped believing the guilt trippers and have involved myself in activism on my own terms.

I get to decide what I do and do not care deeply about. That's not another person's place to tell me what I think and feel -- especially if it's a complete stranger. I know myself better than they know me.

I get to decide what is too much for me. I set my own boundaries and priorities. Other people might not agree with me, but they can die mad. I'm not their soldier to recruit, and what I do with my time and energy is my business, not theirs.

I know my body and my limitations better than anyone else. The people who truly love me and support me trust me to manage my ups and downs and do not assign a moral status to me when I take care of my needs first. Especially over time, they know that I will be back and ready to help out as soon as I'm able to. When I'm less able to participate, the people who love and support me take care of me and make sure I know they're there for me.

I am no longer doing activism in any real way online. At most, I try to provide some education and some emotional/mental health support. If you look at my Tumblr, you won't see even half of what I deeply care about. Part of that is a growing sense of internet safety, and another part of that is that there is very little I can do online that's going to make a difference. Another part of that is when you post stuff as a reaction or out of a sense of obligation, you're more likely to spread misinformation, especially if you don't take time to verify the information (which can be genuinely difficult if you don't know how to do that). I fell into that trap a fair amount when I was so guilt ridden that I was terrified to be seen as a Bad Person.

Which brings me to this major point: there will always be people who are quick to judge you and quick to make you out as a Bad Person no matter what you do. In someone's mind, you are probably already a Bad Person. Does that actually make you a Bad Person? Does someone else's definition of good and bad line up with yours, and does it matter? Have you considered that the person calling you a bad person might be a bad person by your standards? Who has the right to strictly define morality in the first place? Regardless of the answers to those questions, you don't have to let other people define you. And the guilt trippers are doing substantially more harm to the cause than people who are trying to rest for their emotional and mental health. I don't think that makes them bad people, but it does make them bad at community building, which is a fundamental necessity for activism.

My advice, if you really want to be a good activist, is to kill the part of your brain that tells you you aren't good enough and don't deserve rest until you are. No one can do it all. No one is a perfect activist or a perfect person. You need to have a clear idea of what your priorities are and what your capabilities are. You need to seek community and, as OP originally stated, joy. It's not just you who needs something to fight for or who needs breaks, your community needs it too. If you overwork and constantly retraumatize yourself, you will eventually hit burnout and you will not be able to help at all for much much longer than if you had just taken a break or made time for the good things in life when you first needed to. You also run the risk of creating a culture where no one else feels like they deserve rest and eventually burn themselves out, too. Then where does the movement go when all its activists are too stressed and tired and having a crisis of morality to do the work? The movement goes to die, is where. Sure, being angry is valid and important, but if that's all that's keeping you here, you're going to find that anger is not sustainable and will eventually give way to extreme depression when you realize that anger alone does not fix the many problems of the world. Your anger and guilt will kill a movement so much harder than indulging in a little positivity and rest from time to time.

Oh, and me? Now that I've gotten out of guilt trippy and frankly abusive online activist spaces, I am so much better at doing activism that matters. I organize a queer art group. I attend meetings to discuss problems and try to find solutions. I have more energy to educate myself and others. I can do more direct action. All of this is stuff that I literally had no space for while I was suffering from the burnout those online spaces caused that I now have space for because I decentralized social media in my life and especially in my activism.

Please. For your own sake and for the sake of the causes you care about: take a break. Have a rest. Do something fun. This is me telling you directly that the people guilt tripping you are being inappropriate & rude at best and literally abusive at worst. It is okay to forget them and live your life in ways that serve both yourself and others. They have no power to send you to Hell, I promise.

Sorry about the rant I'm just SO sick of this "we have to be on all the time never look away if you aren't upset about politics and traumatizing yourself watching people die on Twitter you're wrong and complicit and evil" like I know things are fucked and we need to stay angry but we can do that while also taking a minute to crack open a cold one with the boys or have gay sex or get tipsy at the line dance, we HAVE to have joy to remember why the fuck we're refusing to give up in the first place. Fight like hell for your loved ones and then also go home with them to smoke weed and drink sweet tea and make biscuits covered in honey and butter please, please don't deprive yourself of joy, you're allowed to be happy BEFORE the work is done. You're allowed to be happy.

[loveemagicpeace]

🧚🏻‍♀️Astrology Notes🌊

People with 1st house placements are really good at presenting themselves. You are very good at expressing yourself. For ex.: Jupiter in 1st house- You have a lot of wisdom and knowledge. People like to listen to you. They see you as someone who is smart and has a lot of knowledge. It gives you confidence and a sense of freedom, especially in terms of how you look. You can be very careless, and you don't care what others think of you. Uranus in 1st house- u have unique approach to life and in a way that u look or dress. Sun in 1st house- u will always shine no matter what and u can also be in a spotlight a lot. You have a certain pride that you carry with you. Saturn in 1st house- You have a lot of maturity and things you've experienced. U can have sometimes hard time to express yourself. Mars in 1st house- Your energy is very noticeable. You are almost never afraid of anything.

12th house Synastry -Sometimes it feels like the person is reading your mind and sometimes they do exactly what you think. You sometimes feel like the person is taking something away from you. Example: you're watching a podcast in the evening that you really like and the next day that person posts the same podcast. There's always some kind of connection between you that's hard to explain.

Aquarius Venus-I often see them getting divorced or having unpredictable relationships. But divorces with this sign are quite common, in fact they are much more so than with someone who has Venus and Capricorn (they are very serious and cautious in love and it takes a long time to actually open up and build a life with someone). Aquarians can sometimes be more reckless and at the same time open to new things and if they feel the energy then they will quickly enter into a relationship. They also know how to get over someone quickly. Life goes on and so do they.

Sagittarius moon-they usually always have a belief in something whatever it is. They like something they can emotionally connect with. They will usually always look for a way that will fulfill them emotionally and give them some meaning. And they take a long time to get over something emotionally even if it doesn't seem that way. The trick with them is that they don't show that much emotion on the outside, so people often think they are very chill and cold.

2nd house is house of inner feelings, comfort, luxury, music, movies, food, what kind od food u love to eat. People with many planets here are more devoted to food and wanting to be comfortable. And they like to take the easy way out. They don't like to walk or do something for too long. They don't like to change their environment.

7th house stellium means there are many things you have to find out about yourself here. You can spend a long time searching for your personality. Thats why u can actually come off as a fake a lot of times. More than someone who has 12th house placements.

Countries ruled by Scorpio: Bavaria, Morocco, Norway, Syria. The places it rules are usually muddy streams, quiet ponds, swamps, vineyards, operating rooms.

Countries ruled by Libra: Austria, Argentina, China, Egypt, Japan, Tibet. The places it rules are harbors, golf courses, the tops of buildings, lobbies, closets, tables.

Countries ruled by Aries: Bulgaria, England, Denmark, Germany. The places it rules are hilly, dry, fireplaces, ceilings, hearths, rooms in the east and prominent corner buildings facing east.

Countries ruled by Cancer: North Africa, Netherlands, Paraguay, Scotland, New Zealand. The places it rules are: streams, springs, lakes, laundries, kitchens, homes.

If you want to sleep well, you can look at your 12th house and the moon. Because that will tell you where you will sleep better and which side is good when you sleep. Moon in Cancer means you’re highly sensitive to emotional and environmental changes. You likely sleep best when you feel safe, emotionally nurtured, and in a cozy, familiar environment. If something is emotionally off, it can disrupt your sleep, leading to vivid dreams or even insomnia. Mars in the 12th house, which means your sleep isn’t always restful. Mars here can create restlessness, active dreams, or even sleep disturbances because Mars is an action-oriented planet placed in a house of subconscious energies. Your dreams may be intense, symbolic, or even feel like past-life connections. Fire Moons (Aries, Leo, Sagittarius)-Might wake up in the middle of the night, especially with intense dreams.

Mercury in the 12th – Overthinking before bed, talking in sleep, or receiving messages through dreams. Jupiter in the 12th – Spiritual or prophetic dreams, dreams of foreign places or guides, may wake up feeling inspired.

People ruled by saturn have one side that is devish not meant in a bad way. But if you hurt them you will face the other side of them. Many people do not know that capricorns are very strong and that they can also be vengeful but their revenge is silent.

A lot of people when they have north node transit in 11th house & south node transit 11th house -they delete social networks or use them less. At that moment, you often feel that it is not something you connect with anymore. I also often notice that gemini rising & sagittarius rising delete social networks because they want to live their lives differently. Also, many people with virgo rising do not connect as much with social networks.

If you have Venus in Gemini you must have an intellectual rapport with someone before your affections begin to blossom.  Basically, you have a lighthearted attitude toward love. Intense, heavy emo- tional commitments are like an anchor around your neck.  This position of Venus also stimulates a careless and free hand for spending money.

Venus in Leo are able to attract warm feelings on the part of others. You are extravagantly affectionate and generous, buying expensive gifts for those you love and praising them to the skies in front of other people. Needless to say you are drawn to the world of theater, and many of you are blessed with superb creative gifts. Though self-indulgent and pleasure-seeking, you are capable of making a great self-sacrifice for the happiness of some- one else.

Jupiter’s position in your chart indicates how outgoing and genial you are, whether you attract money and possessions, and in what career you will have the most luck.  Jupiter signifies the good things that come to you easily and with little effort. Jupiter can also be too much of a good thing, for its influence can make you extravagant, lazy and luxury-loving, profligate with money, and blindly optimistic. If things fall into your lap too easily, you never develop strength of character or spiritual wisdom.

Jupiter in Cancer-You are imaginative and sympathetic, and do well in creative pursuits. Old things have a special appeal to you. Anything involving food and drink also brings luck; many of you make successful chefs, restaurateurs, and cookbook writers.

Jupiter in Leo- You think big, are ambitious, and have a penchant for grandeur and extravagant display.  In professions where this is useful, such as the entertainment industry, the world of fashion, and high-powered selling jobs, you are predestined to succeed.

Jupiter in Aquarius- You usually find good fortune through your friends and unexpected opportunities. You are also endowed with a special aptitude for music. Many Jupiter-Aquarians become well known in that world. Aquarius is also the sign of the future, and as a native of this Jupiter position you tend to be successful in professions of the modern era— television, computers, electronics, aviation, and the space industry.

Jupiter in Pisces -are singled out for success in social or religious work, politics, and philanthropic organizations. Work that involves travel over water brings other opportunities into your life. You also have a deft touch with animals, would make a fine veterinarian, and many of you have lucrative businesses breeding horses, owning cattle ranches, and raising cats and dogs for show .

Uranus in 2nd house-You tend to have an unusual source of income or your money oppor- tunities pop up suddenly and unexpectedly. Antiques, curios, and collectibles are lucrative for you.

Jupiter in 2nd house-you tend to make money easily and have a talent for financial dealings. Other people are attracted to your expansive ways and you often benefit through social contacts. Traveling or the travel industry is another source of wealth for you.

Moon inn 3rd house-You tend to think emotionally and have a strong imagination. You dislike routine and your life is marked by many short trips. You have a good memory, often change your opinion. But you can also be very moody.

Sun in 4th house-You take pride in your home and family; from the time you were young you had a deep need to establish roots. One or both of your parents was a dominant influence in your life; in some cases you had to struggle for independence.

Mercury in 4th house-Your home is often a place of study or work, and the work you do may lead to changes in your residence. Your parents and early home life stimulated your curiosity to learn.

-Rebekah🧜🏼‍♀️🍀

[classjezter]

Y'know, everyone's talking to Baby OP and giving him illicit treats, but how's everyone else managing? We saw all the initial reactions, and know about their dynamics with sparkling Optimus, but how are they holding up? Optimus becoming a baby during wartime is probably rough for having to shift responsibilities on top of hiding and taking care of a tiny child. They could probably all use some goodies too

Hi! I like you videos btw :) as to your question:

The Autobots are stretched thin. They were already in a full-scale war before and now they have a troublemaking sparkling to take care of. To manage both their duties and taking care of baby Optimus, they take shifts watching him (takes a village to raise a child put literally). There’s always at least one Autobot on ‘Optimus duty’ while the rest keep up with patrols, defenses, and battle strategy.

More about every specific bot below cut cause this got a bit long

Elita was a strong leader even before the war, but now she’s been forced to take on Optimus' responsibilities while also keeping him safe. She’s stressed, constantly dealing with managing the Autobot faction, and Decepticon attacks (all while making sure nobody outside their small circle discovers the secret). Still, she loves Optimus no matter what, and seeing him like this makes her fiercely protective over him

Outwardly, Wheeljack acts like his usual self, making jokes, keeping up with his work, taking sparkling duty like a champ and definitely not acknowledging the guilt eating at him (This mess is partially his fault, not intentionally of course, but that doesn’t make the weight on his spark any lighter) But when he’s alone, it gnaws at him. Every time he sees Optimus being adorable, being so vulnerable, it’s just another painful reminder. He’s overcompensating by throwing himself into work, trying to fix the problem while also building safety measures for their tiny leader

Jazz is really good with Baby Optimus. His easy-going nature and energy make him a great playmate for the kid (although he sometimes struggles with the actual taking care of him part, but he tries). That doesn’t mean Jazz isn’t aware of how much trouble this is. He knows they’re barely holding it together. The Decepticons will notice eventually, and when they do? They’ll probably be in serious trouble. But until then, Jazz just focuses on keeping the kid happy, and keeping morale up for the team

B-127 adores Baby Optimus. He’s always been close to Prime, and now that Prime is small, Bee has kind of become his big brother. They play together, and he loves carrying OP around, but sometimes he misses the real Optimus. The one who led them, who reassured them, who always had a plan. This tiny version of Prime is sweet and fun, but it’s just not his Optimus. He never says this aloud, though. Instead, he focuses on keeping Optimus safe and happy, hoping that one day, they’ll get him back to normal

Ratchet, as not only a medic but the Autobots' chief medic, has seen a lot in this war, but this? This is a whole new kind of problem. Ratchet spends half his time while on sparkling duty running scans on Optimus, making sure the transformation into a sparkling didn’t do any permanent damage. Despite his grumpiness and wariness, Baby Optimus has got him wrapped around his tiny finger, he loves the kid and constantly gives him treats. But deep down? Ratchet worries not just about Optimus, but about all of them. If the Decepticons ever find out, they’ll be completely vulnerable

Prowl is all about strategy, discipline, and efficiency. So, at first, Prowl treats Baby Optimus like a tactical problem. Keeping up a war effort and hiding a baby Prime? Nearly impossible. And it doesn’t help that Optimus refuses to stay out of trouble. He didn’t want to get attached, just solve this situation as soon as possible, but of course Optimus eventually won him over. Despite everything, Prowl is doing his best to keep things running smoothly. He knows they can’t afford to fall apart, if they do, the Autobots are doomed. He’s keeping them together through sheer force of will. But Primus helps him, if he catches Optimus stealing another one of his datapads, he’s may lose it

No one expected Ironhide to be good with sparklings. Even as one of the oldest miners he never really had much interaction with sparklings, at least not ones this young, but somehow things just clicked for him. At first, he wasn’t sure how to handle this. Optimus is his leader. His commander. The best Prime Cybertron has ever had probably. And seeing him as a helpless little sparkling messed with him. Despite this (after some light research) he becomes a great caretaker, he knows how to take care of a sparkling: He instinctively rocks Optimus when he’s fussy, he knows how to hold him properly (unlike others, Jazz knows what he did), he keeps track of feeding cycles, etc. And if anyone even thinks about hurting Optimus, they’re getting the biggest cannon in Ironhide’s arsenal to the face. No one messes with his little charge

In summary, they’re all struggling a bit lol, they need energon goodies too sometimes

[specsthesecond]

🃏👑🃏

You were married off to the king as a young noble woman. The arrangement was rather rushed in your opinion, not that anyone asked for it. The king only needed a show wife, a quiet but present symbol for the kingdom and you suited well enough for that.

He didn’t need a wife for pleasure, he had plenty mistresses for that and he seemed to be in no rush for a successor. You suspected it was because he had no intent to hand over power to anyone else anytime soon. Although, that's just what you assumed, others never blamed him for it. You were always the target of the hushed whispers and silent accusations of infertility, unruliness or even infidelity when it came to the subject of an heir.

The people's gossip aside, it was an easy marriage. You didn’t have to share a bed with a man you didn’t love and you didn’t have to raise his children. Many more deserving women would kill for such a life, which only made you feel worse about the utter discontent you felt. It was the loneliness, mostly. Such a privileged life and yet not a single companion in the world to share it with.

The king and his advisers only speak to you when they need you to make an appearance as queen. Their orders always dripping with condescension and near mockery. They’ve made you smile and wave for hours, waltz until your feet blister and recite a holy text’s worth of pompous poetry but this most recent ploy was particularly concerning.

You sit on your throne next to your husband, hands in your lap, staring at the colourful figure in front of you. The bells on his ridiculous hat jingle as he bows his head so low they almost touch the marble floor. Quiet chuckles emit from the nobility crowding the massive ballroom and the unease in your stomach only builds.

When the jester picks his head back up, you can’t help fiddling even more with your dress, just like your husband's advisers have scolded you not to. The jester silently stares with a sheet white face, big red grin painted across his mouth. You want to shrink under the jesters stare, the blue diamonds painted over his eyes make his gaze feel piercing.

The king grins when he catches your nervous gaze.

“Do you like your surprise, my love? I thought you could use some cheering up lately. As did my advisers.”

He chuckles, looking over at the old men in the corner of the room. They smile back, amusing in a joke you're not a part of.

You just nod your head as politely as possible. You don’t know what's happening, but whatever they have planned can’t be good.

The jester skips up to where you and the king sit. He gives an exaggerated curtsy to the king, earning a laugh from him and the various nobility.

The bells jingle as he springs back up and steps closer to you. He stretches his hand out, you stare at it and then back to your husband.

“The fool wants a dance, my dear. Give him a dance.”

You try to hide the apprehension on your face and reach for the jesters white glove-covered hand. He doesn’t squeeze or pull you up like you expected, instead he holds it gently, waiting for your next move. You rise from your throne and cast one more glance at your husband, who only offers a self-satisfied grin in return. This whole time all they've wanted from you is a perfect queen and now they want you to dance with a fool?

The jester walks you to the middle of the room, encircled by leering nobility. He places your hand on his waist before dramatically correcting the mistake and placing it on his shoulder instead, looking bashfully to the audience who snicker at the joke. He takes your other hand in his and gives you a little nod before the musicians starts playing and he guides you into step.

Now obviously you know very well how to dance, you enjoyed it quite a bit when you were little although, now it’s just become another part of your queenly duties. Did any of that even matter now? Now that it’s clear the king and his peers see you as just as much of a joke as the man you’re waltzing with.

Your deep thoughts are broken when said man unexpectedly twirls you in a dizzying circle. You flail slightly in your surprise but you’re brought back into his arms just as quickly to continue your steps. You fully focus on him now and you wonder what his features look like under that gaudy clown makeup. Even in the bright chandelier lights of the ball room, you can’t make out the colour of his irises. Earlier, you thought they were hazel but now it seems they're an impossibly dark brown.

The dark pools look as if they could swallow all the colour from his face and your own. Actually, has he blinked even once during this dance, or at all for that matter?

You’re not sure if it was your mistake or the jester’s but you step on his foot and he suddenly pulls away from you. He clutches his foot and jumps up and down in theatrical pain. The room bursts into laughter, bellows and cackles. These elite men and women delight in the humiliating performance you’re both putting on for them. It takes everything in you not to cave right there in the middle of it. Why are you being humiliated when you've done nothing wrong?

While the jeering continues, you try your best to steel yourself, replacing the need to cry with spiteful compliance. If they want a dance, they can have a dance.

You curtsy at the jester, offering an apology and hold your hand out to him. He looks around and then points to himself. You can’t help but smile and nod your head.

He takes your hand and when the music starts back up again, you step in time to the beautiful melody. You try and put your full attention on the jester, not anyone else in the large room, which proves to be quite easy as he is by far the most interesting person present. You can just make out the small smile under the red painted grin, his relaxed eyebrows under the bright blue diamonds, the crook of his pointy nose.

While moving in sync, you become almost lost in trying to map out his face under the make-up. You look for imperfections in the face paint but can’t seem to find a single smudge or brush streak, in fact the paint looks impressively even, like it’s a second skin.

It truly does feel like its only you two and the music, for the first time in a long time you feel wanted by someone else.

But when the king grows bored he demands new entertainment.

He motions for the musicians to stop their music and you’re brought back to reality. The jester bows for the crowd, he gestures to you and you offer a little curtsy before being escorted back to your throne. Form there, you watch the rest of the strange performers routine. He juggles an impressive amount of miscellaneous items, he folds himself into ridiculous positions, walks on his hands and generally makes a fool of himself for the crowd.

You watch in delight, though your husband doesn't seem as interested as he was before your little dance.

You think about the jester all the way back to your courters that night. You think about him as you slip on your night dress and slide into bed, and you think of him as you stare up at the ceiling for possibly hours. There is too much on your mind, the fun of watching the jesters performance has subsided and thoughts of what this means for your reputation and position in the court remain constant. A sigh leaves you as you lift yourself up and open the doors to your balcony.

You lean on the balcony ledge and stare out at the starry night sky, not even the strange jester can distract from the humiliation ritual you were just a part of. He could have been in on it for all you know and you're just naive enough to think he was being kind to you during the whole thing.

A shuffling sound from behind you makes you turn your head and it takes you just a split second to register the very colourful jester standing in the corner of your balcony.

The screech you let out is smothered by your own hand. You clutch the edge of the balcony, staring at the slender man who puts his hands up, waving apologies while moving his chest as if laughing, nothing comes out of his mouth. You clutch your heart, breathing quite heavily as you stare at him bewildered. You look around trying to discern where he could have come from, and how you only now hear his bells jingle as he waves his hands, still apologising.

He steps closer and stands tall in front of you, he’s much more imposing than you remember him being. He holds up one finger and then mimics a waltz. His head bows low and he holds his hand out for you to take. He’s asking for another dance but is there really much of a choice at all? Has this also been planned? If you say no, will he just leave? Do you want him to leave? The dance you shared was the most delightful time you've had in so, so long

You stare at him for a good while, he stays with his hand outstretched, bent over at a near 90 degree angle, not straining even a little. The longer you wait, the more uncomfortable you feel in his unwavering presence.

Against your better judgement, you reach out and touch his gloved hand. He curls his fingers around yours and stands upright. You let him bring your hand to his shoulder, place his hand on your waist and step closer. This time is different from the last time. Now it really does feel like his attention is only on you, not with the other guests, not with the performance. It should be frightening, but you find no malice in his eyes, no ridicule in his demeanor.

As he steps into motion, you begin a slow waltz in the small space of your balcony. It's slower than in the ballroom, it's more intimate. While you dance with this complete stranger, your thoughts run rampant, you second guess your judgement again and again. Maybe the kindness you sense from him is a ruse. Maybe he is here on behalf of the king, setting up another degrading show. He could even be an assassin, come to rid you quietly in the middle of the night.

You would deserve such a fate for giving in so easily. You slowly spin in his arms and this time you don't hear the snide laughs of the nobility, just the sounds of the night. Both of you step in time and you let him guide you to the edge of your balcony. You hold your breath as he dips you over the ledge. Your eyes squeeze shut and you let out what could be your last breath ready for him to let go and let you fall.

But he doesn't let go, your grip on his shoulders never slips. You open your eyes, a bit blurry from wetness but you can make out his face, because it's right in front of you even though you're bent over the balcony far enough that your feet have left the ground. You stare back at his unrelenting gaze. In the dim light of the moon his eyes look even darker than before and something new swims in the deep black of his pupils, something sad.

They are lidded as they examine your face, your entire being. His hand on your back presses your chest further into his until you're sure he can feel your rapid heartbeat through your very flesh.

He lifts you upright again, turning you away from the ledge and out of harms way. You’re still chest to chest, he’s so close but you can’t feel him breathe. Your wide eyes stare up at him, trying to discern his expression. Your breaths are short and your grip on him hasn’t let up a bit.

He brings his hands up to your cheeks, the warm fabric of his gloves on your cold cheeks has you easing into them far too easily. His eyes examine every inch of your face while his thumbs stroke your cheeks, you can just barely see the frown on his lips behind the painted smile. He brings your face closer to his, slow and methodical, making it very clear what his next move is. You’re not sure if this was due to his own hesitation or to give you time to pull away, regardless you let him inch closer and closer until his lips grazed yours and you finally feel him breathe out one long breath.

The kiss is deep. Despite being slow and gentle, it still forces a struggled breath from you. You would’ve thought he tasted like paint but he doesn’t, he’s warm and inviting. It’s nice.

Your eyes close, surrendering all hesitation to the stranger in your arms. Fingers dig into the fabric of his puffy striped sleeves as your body melts further into his. You quickly learn to breathe through your nose, out of necessity and unwillingness to part from his affections.

You let him work your mouth open, slipping his tongue inside. The feeling is so foreign, you can’t help but whine. The backs of his fingers flutter over your throat and you shiver.

His tongue fills your mouth, sliding along yours and savouring your taste. The wet muscle reaches far into your mouth, farther than you thought normal but your experience is slim and you don’t have the awareness to fully question it. It’s overwhelming. Your knees tremble and he lowers you both to the cold stone floor. His tongue reaches into your throat, a feat you know is impossible.

You’re too lost to even think of the implications of this, as you gag and convulse around the thick muscle in your throat that no longer feels like a normal tongue. He reaches so far, your eyes roll back, your lower region warms uncomfortably and you forget how to breathe. You tap his shoulders quickly, a plea for air, and he retreats from your throat. He holds you as you cough and heave, wiping the spit from your chin.

You look at him with the an expression full of shock and fear and bewilderment and every other emotion shooting through your fuzzy mind. His expression is hard to discern but he seems both amused and sad.

He stands and brings you up on shaky legs. When he starts to back away, you panic and clutch his hands tighter. You don’t know what you were hoping for. That he would stay? That he would spend the night with you?

His face is full of what you hope is longing and not pity, you know what pity looks like. He holds you close in what you know is a goodbye embrace. He presses his forehead to yours and he places one last short kiss on your lips. Its playfull and very much not what you’d consider a proper good bye kiss. You search his gaze and you’re met with rather boyish mirth, lifting your spirits slightly. Maybe this isn't goodbye then?

He winks at you and takes your hand, spinning you around once, twice and three times before he lets go. When you rebalance yourself and look around the balcony, there is no sight of the jester. It's just the pitying sounds of the night and your only other witness, the moon. Like he was never there at all.

[agentpeggycarterrogers]

She loved how he moved faster and harder when she praised him. His lips felt so good, and she felt so full of him, and she loved how it felt to have him thrusting inside her. God, he was perfect and knew every move to make her come undone beneath him. 

“Nor I of you,” she gasped. “Love you so much. Always.” 

She felt the building of intensity, as she climbed up higher, higher toward her climax. She moaned into the kiss and held him against her as she rolled her hips into his thrusts. 

“Yes, love, more of that, more of this. You’re so wonderful.”

@steven-g-rogers

Peggy gasped with each deep thrust. They fit so perfectly together; they always did. Body, heart, soul. In life and in bed. “God, yes, my love.”

God. He felt so good. He was going to leave a mark on her skin, but she didn’t care. This was their honeymoon, and she didn’t mind that he loved her so much to claim her. Besides, his lips on her body felt so wonderful.

“Oh, yes my darling. My perfect husband.”  

[gojo-mochi]

Telling JJK men “I’m not putting my minecraft bed next to yours tonight”

TW: Sweet/Simple. Mild Suggestive on Toji's part

Gojo:

Dramatically falls to his knees, tears, snot, all the works. Threatens to jump off the highest block in all the lands. Kidnaps your pet wolf or favorite farm animal and tells you that he’s “taking the kids and leaving.” Would loudly put on sad music as he plays right next to you, digging in the mines underground very, very slowly. Not even using his best equipment, just a shitty stone pickaxe because he thinks that makes him look more gloomy in your eyes. Would talk out loud to all the animals you own about how he misses you and how “Momma” is mad at him. 

Geto:

Looks flabbergasted that you would even utter something like that to him. Hits back with “Well, I’m not gonna put my bed next to yours!” Like he was the one to said that in the first bed. Quickly goes to make a very elaborate Minecraft House so he can brag about how comfy and deluxe it is in front of it. Makes a grand tour of showing you the inside, which ends at the bedroom which he decorated to the nines. A sly attempt to somehow make you jealous enough so you would come crawling back to him so you could live in this new fancy mansion he made (in a video game)

Nanami: 

Have a heartbroken look on his face right after you said that, and you immediately regret it. Would take his bed out of the house first so your character can still be in there; would move his bed down to the basement or another building. Goes on a journey to pick up some flowers or lure in a new pet dog/cat/parrot to win back your love (he never lost it). You put your beds back together in less an hour and played the rest of the night, all snuggled up in Nanami’s lap as you watch him tend to the farming. 

Choso: Is also heartbroken by your words. Stops playing the game and looks at you like a kicked puppy. “Does that also mean that I can’t sleep with you in our bed tonight?” (He’s talking about your real-life bed). You don’t know whether or not you should tease him further or just say that it was a joke all along. If you decide to tease him further and double down on your words, he would spend a whole day in secret, building something to show you in the game world. A whole field of flowers or a statue of your in-game character as a show of good will. 

Toji:

Not really into the game that much but plays it because you like it. So saying that doesn’t really bother him until you say it also applies in real life, then that will get his head to turn. With his eyebrow raised and his arm crossed, he looks at you and asks, “Are you really going to go down this route?” You fought hard to keep a straight face and nodded. “If you take it back now, I will forget this all even happened, last chance.” Toji uncrossed his arms and placed his hands on his knees as he got into position to start chasing. You glance at your escape route (the door) and suck in a breath. “You’ll never catch me alive.” And with that you ran. You sprinted out the door as fast as you could, screaming for your life as Toji chased behind you.  You don’t get far before he catches you and throws you over his shoulder, pinning you down to your shared bed, and making you regret your words from earlier.

[bnyf]

╭﹕୨୧﹒ yandere pirate x willing mermaid reader ♡

┊ warnings : yandere content and themes, unhealthy behaviors, relationship and relationship dynamic, suggestive, stalkholm syndrome, kidnapping, size difference

���﹕୨୧﹒ authoress note : requested ♡ still having trouble writing smut but i'll get there! thank you anon for requesting apologies for how long this took ^_^

greedy fucking man. so, so greedy. he's so manly too. such an earthly being with all his earthly cravings. him and his men, moving from island to island to plunder every village and kingdom of it's golds, treasures and riches.

god, men were such pleasure bonded creatures. men are greedy.

and yet you admired them, and yet you loved them, wanted to be like them, walk in their shoes. you had no idea just how cruel men were. but you were about to find out.

you'd always swim up to the surface to watch humans, to study and observe what they were like. sure, your father had told you all the tall tales about how horrible humans were, yet you choose not to believe him. foolish.

worst yet, you wanted to be like those beings, which scared your father and made him ban you from going on the syrface again. but when did a dumb little fish like you ever listen to the echos of the back of the hallow head of yours? better yet, those who know better like your father?

exactly. that's why your now his property.

whomst? you may ask? the very same greedy pirate, that barbaric man, that your father warned you about.

you were not supposed to be on the surface, espcially at night. but you wanted to spy on the pirates who'd crashed in for the night. pirates don't usually park there boats up on land but when they do, it's probably to plot a raid.

and then little ole you got carried away, trying to steal a few goods from the humans when you were shamelessy caught by no other than the crew's captain. a large, muscular, bulk of a man. his eyes gave everything away though, those dark orbs held nothing but humanly desire and evil in them.

"well, well, well," his barren of a voice rumbled from his chest, speaking to you in a low tone. "are you lost, little mermaid? shh, it's alright dear, i won't hurt a sweet little thing like you. i promise. but, i won't return you either, since you're in my territory, you belong to me. finders keepers, amiright?"

he snatched you up like nothing and dragged you even further away from the ocean. and you helplessly wiggled in his grasp. from then on, he ordered his men to build a little portal fish tank, just good enough for you to fit and swin from point A to point B.

you were restricted heavily, being only allowed to see him and speak to him. any crewmate who dares hold any sort of interaction with you would be slaughtered mercilessly and their body thrown overboard. to say the captain was infatuated with you would be a mere understatment. that man wanted to curl up into your mind and preoccupy it 24/7.

you were treated like a pet. fed, bathed, and completely taken care of, all your needs and wants were meet each time, all you had was to do was say it and he'd present it. he has too much gold, jewels, diamonds, lavish silks, treasures, ect. anyways. he doesn't like sharing but now with his littld mermaid darling here? he might as well rip out his heart and present it to you. he wants to share his entire life with you, and hopefully you'd want that too right?

his words like poison, his calloused hands that have killed to many to count always wrapped around you, those insane eyes drinking you down like a gold glass of water on a sunny day, and his long beautiful unkept hair, braids messt and all tickling your face.

his voice made you wonder if he were a siren in disguise.

"have you had enough for the evening darling? or is your appetite insatiable like mines?" he cracked a chuckle, his lips touching your ears. that man did not care if he was wetting his clothes everytime he had to get phsyical with you. and that meant two things actually, if you know what i mean~

you of course noded. at this point you've accepted this and have become completely compliant. you were strange to him. sure. women would fling themselves at him, he had no qualms with getting laid but you? you were confused, then curious, now complaint and it made him wonder if you wanted this all along.

it made him confident actually. he didn't hold back to be weird, touchy or crazy over you. because you liked it, right? you loved when his hands roamed your body, when he explored you, his crazy words like "if you dare look at another man on this boat i'll punish you serverly... after i've killed that motherfucker of course."

and

"you belong to me, you're sole purpose is to bear my children, entertain me, and enjoy all the amazing pleasures this world has to offer. do you understand? if you do, say 'yes husband'."

and you did. you nod in agreement to him and uttered those words like it was nothing. he loved you for that. he didn't have to do to much to break you, you were already broken to begin with.

but he wanted to see just how far gone you were... so, one lovely midnight, after a harsh day of pirate work (read: plundering, killing, raiding, conquring all that belonged to him, rightfully.) your beloved husband took you to the sea for the first time in ages, watching you seemlessly swim about as your scales on your tail shimmer like diamonds in the pale moonlight, and that beautiful iridescent color shines through it, as though it's almost transparent. he can see through your lower half a little like an angel fish.

he only marvels at your wonderfulness. but when you swam up to him, placing your hand on his beating chest and looking up at him with nothing but love and admiration. something in him just... snapped. you were so much smaller than him, most your body mass being your tail. his strong arms reach for your waist his mind was going insane with lust. a beautiful being like yourself had such feelings for him despite the fact that he kidnapped you and kept you away from society.

was it stalkholm syndrom?... well, whatever it was now he knew for sure you were just as insane as him and it wasn't just fear why you were complyubg to him.

there was no formalities whatsoever. not even a plain subtle kiss, he straight on kissed your lips and stuck his tongue inside your mouth. a wet, messy make out session before you'd feel his length poking you.

it will be an entirely long night for you both.

[wlwsoccerfics]

Building a Home(GraceClintonXTooneReader)

Warnings: sprained ankle.

Summary: you and Grace are working on making the House you brought a Home.

You currently stood in the livingroom, putting in new flooring. Yes you did it yourself cause you were quite Handy when it came to building stuff.

"Babe? Are you sure you don't need help?" Grace asked you from the doorway. Your older sister Ella standing next to her. She was texting Alessia. Her best friend and your England teammate.

"No i got it Love!" You told her, giving her a thumbs up.

"that's very attractive! How you build everything and repair it!" Grace let you know.

"keep it in your Pants, Girls." Your sister said, you flipped her off.

"Love you too, Ella!" You just replied and chuckled softly.

"for real, tooney your sister is really talented. can't believe she did basically everything around the house herself!" Grace answered.

"you are so in love. It's cute!" Ella spoke up.

"both of us happily in love! Good for us!" You told your sister and she nodded her head in agreement.

"true!" She said.

Grace watched you, smiling.

"can't believe i get to marry you soon!" Your fiancee admitted.

"better believe it! I don't just fix stuff for everyone! Just Family, Close Friends and the love of my Life!" You told Grace.

"okay tune it down a bit! That's a bit much. Even for me!" Ella stated and you chuckled softly.

"you are at our place! So stop complaining. You can just leave, you know!" You let your sister know, teasing her.

"but it's lonely at home. My other half isn't there!" She said.

"we know. You keep telling all of us! You even complained to Lessi about it multiple times!" Your fiancee told your sister. Your sister decided to ignore what was just being said.

"also it wouldn't make sense for me to leave and go home cause the three of us have practice in like an hour." Ella answered.

"let me just finish the last few pieces i have already cut out and then i will get ready for practice so we can drive to the training grounds!" You told both Ella and Grace. Turning your snapback around on your head so it was backwards before going back to work.

Grace and Ella went to the kitchen.

"i can't believe my sister build this. It's a career path in case she ever doesn't want to Play football anymore!" Your sister said. Grace was really proud of you.

" it's perfect. She enjoys to build and to repair and i love to decorate! Works out perfectly!" Your fiancee stated.

"it does indeed." Ella answered. The two discussed the kitchen Layout a little more before you showed up in the doorway ten minutes later.

"i will get ready now so i can drive us to practice." You announced, walking over to Grace to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. You then walked upstairs.

You quickly got dressed for practice. Grace and Ella were already dressed for a while. They grabbed their bags when you came back downstairs and walked to your Car. You locked the Front door of your Home and got into the drivers seat of your Car. Ella in the backseat and Grace was being your passenger princess like most of the time.

You were listening to Reneé Rapp. Cause you really loved her music and you had the rule that the driver could choose the music.

When you arrived at the training grounds your parked the Car and the three of you walked inside. Running into your captain Maya and Leah on the way in.

"hey Love Birds, Hey Ella!" Maya said, smiling at the three of you.

"hey you!" You replied.

"how is the House renovation coming along?" Leah asked.

"it's going great! Y/n is quite fast." Grace told them.

"my sister has Talent, i must admit!" Ella stated.

"probably hurt your Ego to say this!" You said teasingly. She playfully shoved you.

"hey Tooney, don't hurt my future wife!" Grace told your sister.

"If you need help let me know!" Maya offered.

"i am happy to help as well!" Leah let you know.

"i will keep that in mind! Thanks for the offer!" You replied.

You got changed into your Football cleats before walking out to the trainings pitch with the others. Holding hands with Grace. You two didn't mind the teasing you received from your teammates.

Practice was going well until Grace slipped and clutched her ankle. You kneeled down in front of her.

"baby, don't try and stand up." You told her, examing her ankle. Your sister informing the medics to come over and Check on you.

"it doesn't Hurt so bad!" She told you. You sighed softly.

"Babe it looks sprained. Better safe then sorry! Let the medics check you over, please!" You said.

"okay..." She replied, holding her ankle. The medics took her inside to exam her ankle. You followed them.

Grace indeed had a sprained ankle and got a walking boot for the next two weeks just to be sure. You made sure to take care of her and let her rest while also finishing up the livingroom renovations.

Oh and not to forget that you two were planning your Wedding.

[hemlock-dreams]

Hiii loving everything so far

I have a silly question. In the previous posts you write about wade and peter not having intimacy with others for various reasons and that's why they kinda sexualized fighting and violence. My question is: how? I find it hard to get this idea, I mean I know bdsm is real, hurt and pleasure and all, but they obv don't go to level of our boys. How does one hypersexualize violence?

sorry if it's kind of confusing

Good night ^^

It's actually less about BDSM practices and more about association and conditioning. (cough Pavlov) One of the most common pieces of advice you can get in regards to building habits is to create rewarding associations between actions. You can, to a certain extent, trick your brain into connection emotions and action together just by pairing them up.

Peter can't engage in sexual contact with people. And adrenaline and fear are known causes in creating arousal. Every time he has a good fight, his body feels high from all the adrenaline and excitement. Maybe one day, after a good fight, with his body thrumming from all the leftover jitters- he gets off. It's not even because he's necessarily horny, just to get rid of the extra steam.

Then he does it again. And again. And again- until he starts associating the act of fighting and being hurt with sexual release. Maybe he even starts chasing fights because that's the only way he can get off without pressure of performing and feelings of guilt and fear from his powers.

It's not a healthy coping mechanism for the lack of intimacy, for sure, but it's safe.

For Wade, it's both a coping mechanism and a way to regain control of his life. His entire body is constantly in pain, and lets be real, his mental health is a shitshow. Even doing regular things like masturbating probably comes with a big heap of chronic pain. Over the decades, it would be impossible not to link them.

And most people can't stand Deadpool for a regular relationship. The closest he gets to consistent physical contact is probably through fighting. His entire life is pain, and he's getting hurt anyways- But if he goads people, if he pisses them off enough to swing his way, then he can get hurt on his own terms. He doesn't have to wait to be dealt (another) shitty hand, he can rig the game.

That feeling of finally having control of his circumstances is the biggest turn on.

So his hypersexualization of violence is actually more emotional than physical, unlike Peter.

And ofc, obviously, these are fictional characters so we can push these feelings to the extreme. (I don't think most people can condition themselves to liking being stabbed, no matter how much they microdose on stabbings lmaoo.)

Hope this helps!!!

[lostintransist]

The Boys' Home | Part 6

*If you asked to be on a tag list and you haven't been, please ask again. Somtimes I think Tumblr eats my comments.

Part 1 | AO3

You loved them. Swear to any God you love your boys but FUCK! Sometimes the urging from childhood, the lizard brain screaming for peace, made it really hard to not lose your mind at them. All four of your boys were whining, fighting, and being a general nuance to each other and you. The grocery store would never be the place for them to fight like this.

Once a week during the summer you had to make a grocery run. Four growing boys at home every day meant they roved through any accessible food like locusts. If your local store offered pickup you would pay a decent amount to use it. It would save you from days like this.

Seth, at eleven, should have known better than to let Darren, at six, cause him so much distress. But being a preteen is a bit like being in hell so who knew how much he could hold back the yelling? Darren also fought with Sam, also six, and Reggie, ten.

Frankly, they all needed a nap and would argue they didn’t. The full moon incoming tonight helped only to fuel the chaos in their small bodies.

They had argued over who got to sit where and then during the drive over Reggie looked too long at Darren who screamed about the offense. Sam had started screaming that Darren was being too loud and then Seth tried to make them stop, by yelling. The nitpicking and annoyance at the others existing continued into the store. Halfway down the freezer aisle and that much closer to freedom. Glancing down at your list you curse in your head— you forgot about the milk and butter you needed. Of course, those marketing masochists had to put them in the back corner of the building.

As always you made note of where your boys were in relation to each other, the cart, and any other customers. Not many people in the freezer section today; a teenager who slowly read labels through the glass, two old men, shock white hair figuring them to be grandfather age, and the one man in a hat who ran numbers on the calculator on his phone.

Pushing the cart, and all four boys who have lost the privileges of walking without holding on, just beyond the freezer you needed you turned your focus away for two hells-damned seconds. No sooner than the blast of chilled air cooled against your skin than the yelling started.

The crinkle of the vegetable bag below your fingers did not drown out the sound of a different plastic screaming and small, roundish objects hitting the ground. Side-stepping and slamming the door shut you held back the yell by the thinnest of margins.

“Boys!” The mom voice came out in full force. “Enough! Clean up every grape you spilled.”

Four panicked faces stared up at you.

“Now!”

They scrambled to pick up each of what now appeared to be one hundred-plus tiny fruits rolling away in every direction. Movement had you looking up from the offending mess you see every man but one disappearing around the corner. You would call them cowards but you were interrupted.

“Powerful mum voice you have there,” John remarked as he watched your boys pick up every grape flung wide in their tomfoolery.

Glancing at your new neighbor you gauge the sarcasm as low. The tilt of his brows reads more as impressed and slightly annoyed than anything else.

“It’s a talent. My mom voice is stronger than my teacher voice.”

When Sam lifted a handful of grapes, bad intentions in his eyes, you let out two quick hisses of air. All the boys paused and glanced at you. Everyone but Sam turned back to their task as they realized they were not the child in trouble. Eye contact with your boy and a quick head shake were enough of a redirect to avoid further problems.

“Never could quite figure out how my mum could call us all to order so easily. Watching you do it makes me wonder which is stronger, my captain voice or your mom voice.” John has now joined you as the boys scoop and deliver their mistreated goods back into the bag.

A light smile drifts over your lips, even as your chest remains tight.

“I bet the mom voice would work well on your Johnny, and probably Kyle. Jury’s out on Simon,” you wink when John catches your eye. “Bet if I caught you with it I would get a reaction though.”

John let out a belly laugh, big enough to drift. An older woman toddled past the other end of the aisle. Well guess the conversation would be town-wide by desert.

“You know what? I’ll take your bet. What are you offering?”

The boys were nearly done. Thinking fast you blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“If I win you agree to man the grill for the neighborhood meetup you can make it to. Next one is in two weeks.”

They were always hosted at your house, which is fine but that meant you were in charge of the grill. Mostly you were in charge of the grill because the last time any of the men had touched it they left it so gross you banned them from touching it again. You hated cooking meat. It freaked you out that everything might not be fully cooked.

Folding his arms John nodded slowly, as if thinking it over.

“Seems like a good offer. If I win I ask for deserts for our next poker night.”

A fair offer. Equal in labor, skill, and expectation as to what you would demand as your winnings.

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” offering John your hand, you shake on it.

“Got a good grip there teach,” he patted you on the shoulder.

Something about that interaction tickled your brain. But as the boys were finally finished cleaning up the mess they had made you needed to leave it.

“Good. Hands on the cart,” you fired off the command.

“But mom!” Seth cried, affronted in only a way an eleven-year-old can be.

“But Seth!” You whined back before dropping into a deadpan expression. “Kid we have two things left to grab. You can grab the cart or I can ask John here to take you home.”

Neither looked terribly impressed with the option. They made eye contact before Seth grabbed the wire of the cart with a sigh.

John lifts a brow at you.

“Welcome to small towns John. You can and will be used as punishment by other people’s parenting,” you reply with a shrug and a grin. “Alright boys, let’s go.”

He chuckles behind you as you push your full cart and the four dour-faced children who want nothing to do with the buzzing lights of the store. Once the milk and butter were secured the boys convinced you to buy some popcorn. Shareable snack acquired you were able to direct the chaos toward check out.

This step moved fast. Seth and Reggie both scampered to the end of the second conveyor belt and bagged all the groceries the cashier sent their way. Darren and Sam touch every fucking thing within their limited reach until you threaten them with getting put in the cart.

Mary Ann is your cashier today. She had been one of your students two years ago, passing math and even taking online math courses through the community college two towns over. Her dad, Richard, talked about her going off to a fancy college once her associates were done. You had offered to write her a letter of recommendation if ever she needed or wanted it. Mary Ann was a good kid. She might now be twenty but until you were dead, she would be one of your kids.

“Heard you snapping at the boys in the freezer aisle. Everything going okay?” Her hands don’t stop moving even as Mary Ann asks the question.

The eye roll is unstoppable.

“The hooligans need a nap,” Darren and Sam start to protest but you ignore them and finish your sentence. “There was an incident with the grapes. We got it all cleaned up though.”

“Oh good,” Mary Ann scanned the last item and tapped a few buttons on her side. “Your total is—”

She got cut off by Reggie wailing like a hot brand had been taken to his ass.

Slamming your card against the reader you cursed the heartbeats until it beeped. Reggie was now screaming for you and Seth was yelling. Once the awful beep that always made you think your card declined sounded you were snatching Sam and Darren by the hands and snapping at Seth and Reggie to ‘push the fucking cart and if you don’t quit screaming in here.’

The violence of their voices continues. Reaching the van you turn it on, plug in your phone, turn on the most bass-heavy song you can find in a short glance, and up the volume. Seth and Reggie climb in first, to the way back followed by Sam and Darren who click themselves into their booster seats. They all know that if you are turning on the bass it is to drown them all out and screaming will do nothing but cause you to roll the windows down and turn the volume up even higher.

Was it good parenting? No. But it kept you from wrecking the fucking van so it wasn’t the worst choice you could make. Loading the groceries in the back you give in to your anger a tiny bit and slam the door closed. Angrily stalking the cart back to the corral and sending it careening in also helps a bit.

Parenting is the hardest thing you’ve ever done, and most of that comes from confronting your own damn issues. Sometimes though? It is hard because it’s hard to be near a person learning to be a person.

Each child is given a bag or two to take inside and deposit on the counter before they are free to disappear into the woods or up to their rooms. The absence of them in your space and face lets you take the deepest breath and scream into your hands. The small bones shake from the force of your yelling.

“Okay. You can do this. Fuck, the full moon is tonight and then you should get your children who don’t hate that someone breathed near them back.” Taking another deep breath you start putting everything away, still talking to yourself. “We can have chicken nuggets, mac’n’cheese, and salad. Popcorn and a movie before bed and then a large glass of something for me.”

Face in the freezer as you rearranged everything to fit as Simon’s voice from outside scared you into a shriek.

“Do you always talk to yourself?”

Boys Masterlist | Masterlist

@leahnicole1219 @harperstyles @sigynxlokiwifelover @fluffysmiko @lily-bug3 @demothers-empty-blog @literallegendicon

[bunni-v1]

May I ask your advice on something? I want to make a cookie that will be loved by shadow milk and I toss and turn the idea in my head thinking about his loneliness, but his arrogance in assuming most cookies aren’t worthy of his time makes it difficult. It leads me to building the cookie to be bigger and more powerful/elaborate than him so he immediately recognizes it, but that’s unsatisfying for me. I’d like them to be ordinary, clever of course, observant, and quick witted to not only keep up with shadow milk, but to even outpace him at times in a verbal sparring match. But most ordinary cookies don’t really fit the bill. They usually either worship or fear him depending on personality and self awareness. Both are good and what he needs/uses, but you can’t really be friends with a tool. Makes it hard to think of an ordinary cookie that might have caught his attention. I liked your analysis of what getting close to him pre corruption was and he’s a more viable candidate, but even he on some level looks down upon ordinary cookies that know less and don’t live as long. Namuwiki and regular wiki categorize his corruption as both an obsession with his own power as well as loneliness in a truth that broke him. I think the truth that did so or that at least planted the seed of corruption was: that cookies/people don’t care about the truth. He states as much so many times to pure vanilla to weaken his resolve, his dedication to truth. How cookies willingly/happily turn from the bitter truth to embrace a sweet lie. How cookies were more interested in listening to him speak than what he was really saying. It’s a one two punch realizing the cookies around you don’t really care about the thing that makes you you. And if they do it may only be for selfish gain, not for knowledge in itself. And the real rub is the reason they don’t care is often times due to some form of ignorance or stupidity. I mentioned this to a friend irl and she said,”oh he got bullied before he got corrupted. 💯” Which made me think of the cookies before his fall, who maybe took for granted that 1. The font of knowledge even exists and 2.That he would willingly and happily answer their questions truthfully forever and 3. Would never lose his patience. Because how much do you want to bet that the illusion from the sugar free road he taunted pure vanilla with, the woman yelling at him saying “tell us where to seek healing! Tell us how to be healthy to live in wealth and happiness! Use your power! Share your power with us! Do it if you truly care!” Were words from a cookie in shadow milks past? How many refused to seek the truth themselves, wishing no demanding he provide it for them. And criticizing him if/when he either refuses or lies, like bratty children. “Nothing but empty promises. All a lie.” Give them! Cookies who were so ignorant and stupid wanting to take away the thing that makes him him. Because that’s all he is isn’t he? His power his soul jam. Neither he nor anyone else it seems has seen him beyond his abilities. To who he is as a cookie.

Which is just another layer to his isolation, but all of which to say. Maybe the ordinary cookie who just happens to be curious, innovative, and above all patient and kind is his only balm against such words. And maybe that cookie crumbles under the weight of their deceit. Maybe that helps crumble his resolve. After all the main thing hes running from, the big lie he tells himself is that nothing bad ever happens to him. Because how could it? He’s a god, he’s all knowing, but not all powerful. Thoughts?

I think Shadow Milk's fall is the most interesting, because it could quite honestly be either he fell first or last. I'm a bigger fan of the him falling last theory, because it's very interesting to see how he would react to his friends becoming beasts and realizing he too will shortly.

With the new costume's story we can get a better look into him, and he's a lot like PV. Patient, kind, gentle, intelligent, and more than willing to share his knowledge with cookies. With such knowledge, he is very separate from other cookies. He knows and understands things that other cookies could never dream of.

That much knowledge will weigh on your being, even if you are a god. Especially if it's all you're supposed to be, a fount of knowledge for cookies. I think he does enjoy sharing his knowledge and the truths of the world. He cares for his cookies. How could he not? they are innocent and freshly baked, full of fear and confusion. His knowledge is meant to soothe them.

But, cookies fear what they do not understand. When they start asking harder questions, and he gives them the truthful answer, they don't like it. They lash out and deny the truth, and he realizes they would rather live in a lie than bear the truth. The fact that, even if it's unintentional, the very cookies he loves and cherishes are rejecting him... well, it would devastate anyone.

Shadow Milk Cookie became a beast because he was rejected by his people. He became the embodiment of lies to become what they wanted, rejecting the truth to show them the error of their ways. This is what they wanted, right?

I think that's why he needs a partner who challenges him. They can't just accept everything he does as okay. He doesn't want or need someone who just sits there and affirms him like his minions. His partner needs a backbone and a strong moral compass, the confidence to look at him and say, "Absolutely not."

They also need to have the awareness that he is the master of lies. They need to be able to see through his lies and illusions by themselves because he can't hold their hand all the time. He has this deep aching need to be seen, though he doesn't acknowledge those feelings. They have to be able to crack his shell by themselves and show that they care, and only then will he open up to them.

It's certainly not an easy feat for a normal cookie, but if Ginger Brave and co. can do it, I'm sure his partner can also do it. It takes a special cookie to get the master of deceit tripping over himself, after all.

[pineconepie]

This is all so amazing but I have to have some more of Vincent talking care of us especially what happens with his mob and stuff like if he’s out how much defense does he know on you and if so how many of them are around our finger by our 2 meeting?

This isn't exactly what was requested, but I still like the way it turned out :3

TW: Mentions of violence, parental/platonic yandere, infantilization

...

You hold Vincent's hand as he steps out the limousine, gently tugging you along with him.

When he mentioned bringing you to his office and workplace, you had no clue what to expect. So far, most of what you've seen matches the theme of Cryo and their various properties and establishments - mostly sleek black and white, with hints of blues and grays thrown in here and there.

You look up at the building nervously, but he doesn't seem too worried about it at all.

In fact, he looks rather excited for this visit. "You'll love it! We have lots of nice stuff here," he reassures you. "I'll hire a babysitter for you soon, but for now I want you to stay with Dad some more before we separate too much."

Babysitter, huh? Well, it makes sense given how protective and controlling Vincent acts around you. Not that you'd complain too much, you're well fed and generally content, besides the occasional panic session.

He smiles widely, putting his hands on your shoulders and guiding you into the lobby area.

The walls are painted a light cream color, the floors tiled grey.

There aren't any windows on this floor, just doors leading elsewhere inside.

There are several men and women walking around wearing suits and carrying briefcases or files. A few glance at you curiously as they pass by, but otherwise they keep focused on their tasks.

They all move aside quickly upon noticing Vincent approaching with you, however. None of them want to get in your way or risk upsetting the boss by holding up traffic.

That must mean these people really respect him, or fear him.

Probably a little bit of both.

Either way, it gives you chills thinking about what kind of person could command so much authority without even raising their voice once.

Then again... You suppose that's part of being in charge of a massive organization like Cryo. Anyone who steps out of line gets dealt with accordingly. No questions asked.

A woman approaches him briskly. "Good morning, Mr. Brewer," she greets politely, bowing her head slightly as she does. Her gaze flickers to you briefly before returning back to him. "How may I assist you today?"

"Just making sure my kiddo settles in nicely here." Vincent pats your head affectionately. "Come on, munchkin." He guides you down the hall.

Everyone stares at you openly now, curious about the newcomer. You try not to pay attention, focusing instead on Vincent and where he leads you. Eventually, you arrive in front of an office door marked 'Mr. Vincent Brewer.'

Inside is an enormous space filled with expensive furnishings and decorations.

Huge bookshelves line one wall; another contains a large fireplace surrounded by comfy armchairs. The ceiling itself seems to stretch upwards forever, ending somewhere far above your head.

On the opposite side of the room sits a desk piled high with papers and other items that look like they belong to important meetings. A huge map covers most of the surface. Behind it stands a window overlooking the city below.

"I made sure the mini fridge is stocked full of juice boxes and snacks," he tells you, gesturing to the corner of the room. "Only the best for my baby."

You blush and rub your arm. "I-I'm not a baby..."

He smiles at you sweetly, booping your nose. "Aw, yes you are, sweetie. But its okay! You don't have to worry about anything anymore." He then scoops you up in his arms and rocks you back and forth, making you giggle. "See? You try to act all tough and grown-up sometimes, but deep down you just wanna be babied, right?"

"...shut up," you mutter into the fabric of his shirt.

He hums softly and continues to sway you back and forth for a few moments longer before finally setting you down again. Then he takes your hand and leads you towards the couch near the fireplace.

"Here's some blocks and crayons and stuff." He sets a box of toys on top of the coffee table, along with a coloring book. "I have lots of important paperwork to do, so play quietly and let Dad focus on work, okay?"

You nod obediently, already reaching for the box.

Your fingers brush against plastic bricks and cardboard books before pulling away again, grabbing hold of some colored pencils instead. You start drawing random lines and shapes onto blank sheets of paper, enjoying yourself more than you'd like to admit.

Meanwhile, Vincent sits down behind his desk and begins sorting through various documents, scribbling things down whenever he needs to jot something down.

Every now and then he glances over at you, smiling warmly each time.

When you finish scribbling aimlessly across the page, you glance up to see what else you could do. The idea of sitting still for hours while listening to Vincent shuffle through papers is boring beyond belief.

You wonder how much you could annoy him if you truly acted the child he's so keen to treat you like.

You crawl into his lap, giggling when he jolts in surprise, looking down at you.

"What are you doing, cutie pie?" Vincent asks. He wraps one arm around you protectively. His grip tightens slightly as he leans forward to get a better view of your drawings. "Drawing pretty pictures for Dad, hm?"

"Yep!" you chirp, smiling brightly up at him. "Wanna see?"

His expression softens further as he nods. "Yeah, sure! Come on, up ya go." He lifts you higher onto his chest so he can see everything clearly. Then he examines your artwork closely for several seconds. Afterward, he gives you an approving nod. "My baby is so talented! That's beautiful. Didn't know I was in the same room as an artistic prodigy!"

Your face heats up at the compliment, feeling embarrassed yet oddly pleased at the same time. "T-thank you..."

He ruffles your hair affectionately and sets you back down again. "Why don't you draw some more? Maybe make Dad a picture too?"

You were hoping he'd be annoyed with you, but he looks more happy than anything, even with how busy he must be right now.

Oh well.

Maybe next time.

You continue to doodle idly for a while longer. You find yourself wanting to push the envelope with Vincent's patience, see how much he'll allow before it becomes too much.

But then he stands, adjusting his tie. "I got a quick meeting to attend," he says, offering you a sad smile. "Wait here. I'll come check on you and bring you lunch after."

Disappointed, you nod, frowning as he pats your head and walks towards the exit.

The door closes behind him with a quiet click. Only then do you slump against the cushions of the chair you sat upon earlier. Now what will you do?

You return to your doodles, deciding that this is probably the best way to pass time while waiting for him to return.

Once you get bored with those, you wander around the office. You poke around his desk drawers, finding nothing interesting there besides the usual stuff like pens and pencils.

You sift through folders of documents, but its hard to understand any of it, since there's loads of big words you don't know and lots of numbers involved. You end up staring blankly at pages full of graphs showing lines going upwards and downwards, wondering how anyone could ever read such boring stuff without falling asleep halfway through.

When that gets boring, you go to the door, turning the knob, expecting him to have locked it behind him.

However, much to your surprise, it opens easily.

So either he trusts you won't run off while unsupervised, or he simply forgot to lock it due to distraction.

Whatever the case may be, it means you have access to explore the building freely...

With excitement bubbling in your stomach, you quickly step out of the room and shut the door carefully so it doesn't make a noise.

Oddly enough, you don't want to try escaping, even if the chances were in your favor.

You take the elevator up a few floors and look out the window.

The view up here... It really is breathtaking. From where you stand, you can see miles and miles away, watching the sky shift colors as clouds drift overhead.

"Oh, poor thing. Are you lost?" a gentle voice coos.

You turn to see a man who looks slightly younger than Vincent, with long dark hair and grey eyes. He wears a suit, but he has several bandages wrapped around his hands.

"N-no! I'm just..." You pause, unsure what excuse to use. "...I was exploring."

He frowns. "Is that so? I'm Trenton. What's your name, little one?" He kneels down, even though he isn't much taller than yourself.

Why is everyone so insistent on treating you as a child?! But you can't deny, it does make you feel smaller. "...(Y/n)."

Trenton blinks for a moment. "Ohh, you're Vincent's child! Oh, wow. I can tell why he dotes on you, you're adorable. What on earth are you doing here? It's dangerous and I know for a fact Vinnie wouldn't allow it."

Another group of people come over, before you get the chance to even reply.

"Woah! Why's a kid here?" a man with short messy hair asks.

"That's Boss's kid," a woman in a pinstripe suit remarks. "We shouldn't mess with them. He won't take kindly to us interactin' with them."

Suddenly, you feel tiny amongst these tall adults surrounding you.

Trenton notices your anxious expression. "That's just Quinn, don't mind her. Oh, and this is Phoenix."

"Heya, squirt," Phoenix greets. He ruffles your hair. "We should probably get them back to Mama Bear's office before he notices. I'd rather not have all my limbs broken today."

"Mama Bear?" you ask in confusion, tilting your head.

"The Boss," Quinn replies shortly. "Our new little code name for him."

"Because of youuu," Phoenix croons, pinching your cheeks. "Boss treats you like his baby cub. I think it's cute, personally."

"Okay, leave (Y/n) alone," Trenton scolds. "Come on, I'll lead you back downstairs." He holds out his uninjured hand for yours, which you accept. Not like you have much of a choice.

"I can come with you guys!" Phoenix exclaims. "And so can Quinn, right?"

The woman sighs. "Well, it beats working."

As the four of you begin descending the stairs, you look at Trenton's bandaged hands. "What happened?" You don't even realize its rude until you say it out loud. "I'm sorry if that was personal..."

He chuckles. "Aw, it's okay. It's fine." He stretches them out, examining the wounds beneath his cloth wrappings. "Just some... accidents in the workplace." He smiles faintly.

Phoenix elbows him roughly in the ribs. "You didn't tell em the best part! About the fork!"

"I don't want to traumatize the poor thing!" Trenton exclaims. "You know Vincent would kill me."

Quinn smirks. "The story behind it was pretty funny. Some bastard thought he could break in and steal some documents, but good ol' Trent here managed to take him out with a single fork. Very gory, very bloody. I sat and watched the entire thing. The best part? It was a Hello Kitty-themed fork."

Trenton glares. "It was actually Keroppi. Get your Sanrio characters straight next time."

She rolls her eyes dramatically.

You frown. "T-that's awful... is the intruder okay?"

Phoenix laughs loudly. "Pft— Hell nah! Boss had us kill the dude. None of us really like killing, but it comes with the job."

"I like it," Quinn shrugs, earning another glare from Trenton. "What?! Don't get a job here if you're squeamish about killing."

Trenton sighs, then notices your terrified expression. "I know that's probably scary... but we only kill the people who deserve it." He offers a small smile. "Don't worry, sweetie. We won't hurt you." He narrows his eyes at both Phoenix and Quinn. "Now please, they've already been traumatized enough. Let's talk about happier things, shall we?"

They hear yelling as they get closer to the hall you remember Vincent's office being.

"Someone had to see them! Are you all stupid?! They're so small, there's no way they got far! Fuck! Check the cameras!" Vincent bellows. "If they aren't found in the next ten fucking minutes, you're all dead!"

"Ohhh, someone messed up big time," Phoenix says under his breath, glancing over at you. "Lemme guess - you left while he went somewhere?"

You swallow nervously and nod.

"(Y/n)! Baby, where are you?! Please don't do this to me!" Vincent cries from afar. His tone went from livid to desperate in the span of just a few seconds. "Please, angel, if you can hear me, come back! Where are you?!"

Trenton grimaces. "This is the most upset I've seen him since... ever." He glances at Quinn and Phoenix. "I think you guys should leave if you don't want to face his wrath."

"Good plan. Seeya, squirt." Phoenix gives your shoulders a reassuring squeeze. "Bye, Trenton. Good luck."

When you finally reach Vincent, he's panting and pacing back and forth, gun in hand and eyes crazed. He looks genuinely terrifying right now.

"(Y/n)?!" He sprints over immediately, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. "Oh, oh thank god. Are you okay? What happened? Are you hurt anywhere?" He starts patting you down, searching every inch of skin for injury. "Where have you been? Do I need to kill someone?" He kisses your face all over, squeezing you impossibly tight in his embrace. "God, don't scare me like that!"

You glance at Trenton, silently pleading for help.

Trenton clears his throat. "Boss... I found them wandering around, they got lost. They were looking for you. Everything is okay."

Vincent stares at him, still clutching your trembling body tightly. "Is that so?" Then he returns his attention to you again. "Baby? Is that true?"

You hesitate, because that's far from true, but lying would probably spare you from his anger. "I got worried. You were gone forever." You bury your face in his shoulder, hoping he'll feel pity for you. "Please don't be mad at me... or Trenton."

Vincent sighs heavily. "Oh, pumpkin... It's alright." He kisses the top of your head lovingly. "Sorry I left for so long. I'll call my driver to pick us up early, then we can put this all past us." He leads you back into his office, passing Trenton a grateful smile. "Thanks, Trent. I'll buy you a new set of Keroppi silverware."

"...that would be appreciated."

...

"Boss's ride is here, where is he?" Phoenix tilts his head.

"In his office. I'll make sure he's okay," Trenton says.

Quinn and Phoenix follow. Trenton knocks gently and cracks open the door to check in on Vincent and his kiddo.

On the couch, you're sleeping soundly on his lap, a blanket draped across you and Vincent cradling you like you're the most precious thing in existence. Probably because to him, you are.

"Aww," Phoenix coos, leaning on the doorway. "Mama Bear and his cub!"

Vincent shoots them the middle finger, but they can all see the amusement barely hidden on his face. "Don't you three have somewhere to be? Get out before you all get demoted."

Trenton stifles a laugh. "Your ride is here, Boss."

"Hmm." He carefully scoops you up, rubbing your back soothingly when you stir awake. "Shhh, shhh, its okay, munchkin. Just me and Trent. And Phoenix. And Quinn, for some reason. Go back to sleep." You fall unconscious again, instinctively nuzzling closer to Vincent.

You hate to admit it, but you feel safe.

[dduane]

Hi Diane, I really want to sell my writing independently, rather than through Amazon, and you're one of the only writers I know who does. Do you have any advice for setting up something like ebooksdirect, or is that something that requires specialised knowledge and an existing readerbase to be feasible? (no worries if you can't get to this question, I know you get a lot)

Off hand I'd say that Ebooks Direct would not work at all if I didn't already have a readerbase* that knows what I do. So if you don't already have that, I'm not at all sure I can recommend this particular style of going indie (or hybrid-indie).

It's also a lot of work running your own online sales space. And in terms of server space, website management, and so forth, it runs into pretty serious money, over time. Which (from month to month, freelancing being what it is) you can't always be sure you'll have. Plus it takes up valuable time that you could also be using to write, and which you will always grudge having to spend. Around here that means "On average, an hour or two a day..." —and then to the people who say "That doesn't sound like much," one adds "... for fifteen years." ...Those hours pile up.

If you're just getting started, what I would strongly recommend is that you build your sales as best you can on one or more of the online platforms—obviously choosing the one(s) least objectionable to you—and at the same time work to build a mailing list to whom you can regularly market your work via newsletter. Much further down the line would be the time for you to think about a bookstore of your own... by which time (who knows?) the independent publishing field may have done what it loves to do, and changed shape once again into something none of us could have predicted. (Insert eyeroll here.)

In any case: good luck with your marketing... but much more importantly, with your writing! Because an online bookstore has to have something in it... and something that people like to read. Let creating that writing be by far your first and most important concern. :)

*I should really correct that to say "a number of readerbases", as due to the no-internet state of the world prevailing during my first couple decades' work, most of my readerships are very "siloed" and tend to know me for only one thing. The Star Trek readers tend not to know about the LGBTQ adult fantasy: the Young Wizards readers tend not to know about the very assorted MCU and DCU fiction, and so on, among all the possible permutations of I-never-knew-she-wrote-any-of-THAT!. It's almost as if nobody ever goes to one's website to find out whether their favorite [insert genre here] author does something else besides what one already knows them for.

Meanwhile, I'm just grateful for the many who remember my name, :)

[delightfulhidingnook]

His Best Knight, The Queen

(Dark Cacao Cookie x reader)

Chapter 2

You were right, both the Milk and Coffee Village were very grateful to Dark Cacao cookie for vanquishing the dragons, he didn’t stop there either, with your help, you both stopped an invasion from the Licorice Sea in the Milk Village.

“That village must be struggling if they keep coming back over here to beat this nearly dead horse of a town, ugh, we just barely began recovering too.”

Sweetie barked as if agreeing.

“Oh yes Sweetie, you were such a good boy, who’s a scary, flesh-eating puppy, you are, yes you are.”

Dark Cacao Cookie seemed to stare into the distance, you noticed this and were about to ask what was on his mind before being interrupted by the high pitched voice of a child.

“You guys should build a big wall.”

This voice belonged to a very tiny Oat Milk Cookie, accompanied by his twin brother Almond Milk Cookie. As usual, they startled you, having had a talent to seemingly appear out of thin air.

“AH!! I’m gonna put a bell on both of you! Anyways, I already started on a wall, just never got around to working on it that often because I’m always so busy.”

“What wall?” Asked Almond Milk as both siblings synchronized their confused head tilt.

“Whaddya mean what wall, it’s right over there.” You pointed to a very small pile of stone that seemed to be falling apart.

“That’s not a wall, it’s a pile of old rocks.”

“I like it, it’s like a metaphor for our broken society.”

“Or perhaps a cry for help, are you clinically depressed Y/n Cookie?”

Your eyes widened, where the heck were these kids parents. “Alright enough, I’m perfectly fine, go back to your mother.”

The children ran off giggling and you turned back to Dark Cacao, his expression blank and unchanged.

“Oh, uh, those are the twins, Oat Milk and Almond Milk, they’re creepy, but they don’t bite, most of the time.”

“I see, they seemed, unsettling considering their village was under attack not too long ago.”

“Oh yeah, honestly I think it’s just the cyanide they were baked with, if anything, invaders should be more afraid of them. But besides that, how about we continue that wall.”

“Hm, you mean start it.”

“I did my best and I don’t want to hear another word unless it’s encouraging.”

“I encourage you to face the fact that what you have there is very much not a wall.”

You see a small smile form on his face, was he holding back a laugh, oh you were gonna show him alright. You crouch and pick up some soft icing snow, packing it into a ball before throwing it at him, hitting his sword out of his hand. He keeps his small smile and picks up his sword, the two of you beginning your work, there were people occasionally offering their help as well as they were passing by, which was very kind. Slowly the wall was coming along very well, the construction was even bringing people together, you soon decide it time for a good break, a good portion of the wall was done. As you turn to Dark Cacao, you notice he’s already distracted himself in a game of fetch with Sweetie, the giant cremewolf wagging its tail as it returned with the thrown stick. You laughed as you approached them.

“I’ll get us hot jelly stew, you’ll love it, my own secret recipe.”

Dark Cacao nodded before attempting to wrestle back the stick from Sweetie, looks like he was now up for a game of tug of war. It doesn’t take you long to return with a large piping hot pot of stew, you set the pot down in the snow, causing it to melt its surroundings. Sweetie, having still been in a game of tug of war with Dark Cacao, suddenly let’s go of the stick, causing the warrior man to fall backwards as the wolf made his way towards the pot of stew.

“Oh my goodness, Sweetie sit! Are you okay?” You laugh as you walk over to Dark Cacao and help him up.

He nods as he takes your hand, you pick him up, helping him steady himself on the snowy ground, man, his purple eyes really were absolutely gorgeous, you wish you had eyes like that. You’re both broken away from your thoughts as you hear a clang of metal, Sweetie was trying to get into the pot.

“Sweetie!! No! Bad boy!!” You walk over and open the pot, shoving away Sweeties face with your elbow as you served the stew in two bowls.

“Okay now the pot is yours.”

Sweetie wasted no time shoving his entire muzzle into the pot of, now-warm, stew while you walked over and offered a bowl to Dark Cacao which he took. After one bite, while hardly expressed on his face, he was absolutely in love with the food, the flavor, the texture, everything was perfect.

“You’re a good cook.”

“Aw, thanks, it’s just a little something I picked up with the help of the people in the villages.”

“Well I’ll be, if it isn’t Mister serious face.” You turn and see a large and muscular woman with two pink buns in her hair, she looked so pretty and it sounded like she knew Dark Cacao, friends perhaps?

“Hollyberry, what brings you here my friend?”

“Oh, I was just doing some exploring, my kingdom is just a ways down south of here, you should visit, bring your pretty girlfriend too.”

You choked on your stew and Dark Cacao, though his facial expression was unchanged, the color of his cheeks radiated a deep red as he blushed, eventually you managed to dislodge the jelly from your windpipe after a few coughs.

“I’m not- we’re not- together!” You chuckled nervously.

“Aw that’s too bad, you’re absolutely gorgeous.”

“Aaaaawww thank you, you’re gorgeous too, the names Y/n by the way and that giant hog snout-deep in a pot over there is my cremewolf Sweetie, I would also like to say that I personally, would still love to swing by your kingdom once the wall is done.”

“Oooooohhh, I’m Hollyberry, a friend of the grump you got there, is this your kingdom?”

“Oh no no no, I could never be a royal, I’m more knight material at best, heh.”

“Really? Well now I’ve gotta see for myself, let’s spar, if you win, I’ll call in some construction to help you get this wall done in no time flat, but if you lose, well I’ll still call in construction, but then you both gotta come back to my kingdom so we can get absolutely wasted on redberry juice.”

“Absolutely not.” Dark Cacao turns away from Hollyberry.

“Well good thing I’m not asking you, I’m asking her.”

You nod your head, seems like a win-win, plus you’re almost always open to new things.

“Sure, I will admit though, maybe I’ll let you win just to see what redberry juice tastes like.”

“Oh my goodness, your tongue is untouched by the goodness that is redberry juice!! You better give me your best cuz now I’m really gonna kick your butt and drag you to my kingdom!”

“For your own sake win Y/n.” Dark Cacao said.

You went and grabbed your bow and arrows, this was gonna be too easy, all you had to do was keep your distance. You stand a good distance away from Hollyberry and, on Dark Cacao’s mark, you both were going to have an exciting battle.

[minorlyatfault]

❝𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐘, 𝐈 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 !❞ j. todd x f!reader

i run in & turn on the lights,

run my hands to his short, black hair,

"i love you, harvey, i don't care."

𝓦arnings: grammatical errors. the joker & his stupid, ugly, rusty, stinky crowbar.

𝓝otes

001. weejendn reached 200!!9#$($(#($ ohmygods THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU..DNDSSKJS

002. SCREAMING

003. idea ws by @/rob1nzex because i don't tolerate jason todd angst. ZzldaLSVR MEANLONE

004. ppl r prolly annoyed w my works bc most of them r js comforting j. todd. IMSORRRIRYDHDJ i js lobelobelobe comforting j. todd

jason returns home earlier than he normally does. not because the streets of gotham are somehow safer▰just because he's tired. his body is weighed down as he locks his bike in the garage of his apartment building. the night air is chilly, nipping at the edges of his jacket, but he doesn't even notice. he should eat something. he should wait for you. but he won't.

he pulls himself up the stairs, unlocks the door, & enters his apartment. it's nothing like the manor, where there is always someone awake, where the floors creak under the weight of too many bodies, where alfred would make him eat before he could do anything else. here, it's just him.

well, sometimes.

your keys aren’t by the door, which means you’re probably at work. jason’s aware of that, so he doesn’t wait around. he tosses his helmet onto the couch, shrugs off his jacket, & heads straight for the bathroom.

the shower is hot, but he hardly flinches. he washes himself off, zoning out as the blood(his & others' mostly others')rinses away down the drain. his fingers dig into the bruises along his ribs, seeing how painful they are. not bad. he's had worse.

then he dries off, puts on a pair of sweats, & flops onto the bed. the sheets are cold. though, they wouldn't be if you were here. but you're not, so he goes to bed early.

he shouldn't. he knows what happens when he goes to bed too early.

jason doesn't dream much▰at least, not about anything good. tonight is no different.

the crowbar swings.

his ribs crack.

joker's laughing, & he's down on the floor, choking, blood in his lips. he struggles to get up, but his arms refuse to move. every part of him aches. he can't catch his breath▰

the joker swings again.

& again.

& again.

again.

again. again. again. again.

jason jolts awake. screamed. his muscles shaking wildly, his breathing clipped & harsh. his heart thudding in his chest, & he feels sure he still feels the memory agony of the crowbar digging into his skin.

the room is black.

quiet.

no one runs in to turn on the light.

jason lets out a deep breath, his body still shaking, & runs a hand through his short, black hair. it's okay. it's okay. it's okay. he's accustomed to this. he can do it. he’s used to this. he should get used to this. he▰

the door opens.

light comes into the room.

jason doesn't have time to move before you barge in, wearing your hello kitty pajamas, you look like you just came out of the shower. when did you arrive?

"jay?" you're whispery, but urgent, as if you're not sure he won't disappear on you if you're too loud.

he doesn't move. he just blinks at you, still trapped between the past & the now. he didn't expect you. he didn't expect anyone.

you sigh, moving closer, & before he can tell you anything, you move in & ran your fingers through his hair, just as he'd done moments before. your touch is soft, cautious, centering. like he's some delicate art that's meant to be in a museum. jason's shoulders relax a bit, as if the burden of his own head is just a little less heavy with you around.

"you're okay," you whisper. "you're safe."

jason swallows. his throat is tightened he wants to tell you something, but all that gets out is, "you weren't supposed to be home yet."

you give a soft laugh, continuing to run your fingers through his hair. "i got off early." you pause before continuing, "are you okay?"

jason laughs harshly, turning away. "yeah. just a nightmare."

you don't appear to believe him, but you don't press. you sit down next to him on the bed, your hand still in his hair, letting the silence remain. jason allows you to.

for a moment, neither of you speaks.

then, softly, jason says, "i don't understand why you stay."

you blink. "what?"

his jaw tightens. "you're too good. & i'm just…" he takes a harsh breath, shaking his head. "i don't know. i don't want to mess you up."

your brows furrow, but your voice remains soft. "jason."

"i mean it," he grumbles. "i don't want to▰taint you. you should be with someone▰"

"say 'better' & i'm gonna hit you," you cut in, & jason looks at you, taken aback. you're frowning at him now, but not angrily. it's more frustration. sadness. you're upset.(no shit)

you, once again, let out a sigh & reposition so you're facing him correctly. "you ever seen a pomegranate?"

jason blinks. "what?"

"a pomegranate," you say again. "it's messy. red & kinda violent-looking when you open it up. if you're careless, it stains everything. but if you take your time with it. if you're patient, it's sweet. worth it." your thumb traces lightly over his temple. "you think you're just a mess, jason. but you're not. you've just never been handled right."

jason looks at you.

you look back.

for a moment, you wonder if he's going to fight. perhaps he's going to sneer, roll his eyes, inform you that you're wrong. but he doesn't. he simply looks… exhausted.

he slowly exhales, his eyes closing as he leans into your touch, & your heart breaks.

you shift your position, now lying beside him, still running your fingers through his hair. "i love you, jay." you whisper. "i don't care that you think you're messy, or broken, or whatever else your mind is trying to make you think. i love you, i'm not leaving. mess me up all you want. taint me. you're worth the mess.”

jason doesn't answer immediately. but eventually, his hand reaches for yours, interlacing his & your fingers together.

"…okay," he whispers.

you smile, laying a kiss on his lips.

"okay."

© minorlyatfault, 2025.