#trying something i normally wouldn't with it

[quodo-brainrot]

I did an interesting thought exercise with this. Several people in the notes have already pointed out that Odo would have been super OP if he could flawlessly shapeshift into other people like the other Changelings can. (And in the course of the series, we see exactly why it's so OP.)

But! There is one interesting and hilariously simple weakness they could have introduced if they decided that Odo was that good.

Quark is on to something when he starts licking objects to try to figure out if one of them is Odo. You know why? Because Odo doesn't have a sense of smell or taste. I doubt he could replicate something that he can't even sense, so an Odo shot glass would almost certainly taste weird compared to a normal one.

The fact that Quark uses this strategy repeatedly suggests that it has worked at some point, even if we never see it on camera.

I believe that lacking a sense of smell would be surprisingly devastating to any attempts to masquerade as someone else.

Science and speculation under the cut.

As kids, most of us were taught that animals (especially canines) can smell a kajillion billion times better than humans can, but that's a pretty broad statement that has a bit of an 'apples vs. oranges' bent to it.

Humans are actually quite good at smelling the things that are important for us to smell... like each other.

I'm sure you've heard of how blind people are sometimes known to develop a much more keen sense of smell to compensate. Some become capable of identifying people based on scent alone.

Well, it turns out that we don't actually need to go blind to be really good at smelling each other, it's just that a lot of our scent processing is done subconsciously.

With all that in mind, I'm now envisioning a hilarious episode where Odo tries to mimic Rom and Quark just fucking instantly shuts him down because not only has Odo failed to mimic Rom's specific scent, but Quark can also hear that his heartbeat and breathing patterns aren't anywhere near accurate.

Figuring that maybe Ferengi are just an edge case due to their natural hypervigilance, Odo tries to mimic a human and finds that even the humans are suddenly suspicious of him - even if most of them can't put their finger on why.

To the humans, it's very much a classic example of being in the presence of an 'Alternate' - there's something uncanny about this person, but the explanation for why is juuust out of conscious reach.

I think it would be especially funny if humans and maybe Bajorans are the only races who can't really articulate why they feel suspicious. Almost every other race just immediately nails it with 'he doesn't smell right.' I feel like Cardassians would be especially good at it.

Even with this weakness, the storylines with the other Changelings mimicking people wouldn't necessarily need to be altered or removed. You could just write that they isolated themselves enough to avoid too much suspicion, or they simply used their authority to quickly shut down anyone who doubted them.

But poor Odo is absolutely no match for DS9's found family - they all know each other too well, to such a degree that the Station-Wide Polycule is a widely accepted headcanon. They're all so accustomed to the thick fog of pheromones hanging over Ops that they're going to immediately be suspicious when Bashir shows up smelling mostly of nothing (but also faintly of Quark for some weird reason).

Absolutely transcendent move from Star Trek to write a shapeshifter character who's kind of bad at it. You're like, "oh so he can impersonate other characters?" and they're like no he's not very good at faces :(

[endearng]

Doomed

Pairing: Spencer Reid x single mom!reader Summary: If you and Spencer had a nickel every time someone teased you after witnessing your interactions, you'd have two nickels, which isn't much — but it's weird that it happened twice. WC: 4.4k Warnings: Mentions of abandonment and I think that's it. Let me know if I missed anything. A/N: HI!!! I'm so obsessed with them... in a normal amount of course. I'm thinking about writing casually for them, who knows... Also,,,, who am I if not a morcia truther….. I hope you enjoy it! Feedbacks are always appreciated <3 neighbor!au masterlist | main masterlist

You were doomed from the moment he bid you goodbye.

"So, who's he?" Victoria inquired, a sly smirk on her face and a bashful expression on yours.

"Who's who?" You asked, trying to feign nonchalance.

She groaned playfully, "You know what I mean."

"I'm afraid I don't." You winked, sitting on your couch again, between the two women. Sex and the City was playing on the TV across from the three of you.

"You're acting like us as freshmen when the seniors looked at us—" she retorted.

"I thought we didn't talk about that," Jude deadpanned.

"You're 'I don't know what you're talking about' me? I thought we were friends!" Victoria poked you in the rib.

"Ouch! He's just a friendly neighbor, that's it." You said, trying to cut the subject. Jude looked at you suspiciously. "White wine time."

From Spencer's apartment, he could hear the sound of chatter, joyful laughter and opening bottles for the rest of the night. He didn't know how to feel by your invitation, now that he had calmed down after looking you in the eye for a moment, technically, all by yourselves. He would definitely feel inappropriate at a kid's birthday where he barely knew the people who invited him, but he thought that Olivia's gesture was amazingly endearing. What could possibly be more childishly adorable than an infant trying to help and making a 'mistake'? And what could possibly be more devastatingly endearing than a mother taking advantage of said mistake to make it right?

Spencer studied the card for a moment. It fit the palm of his hand, tiny and delicate. It had a different address from yours and the time of the party, all of it lovely handwritten, just like the letters from calligraphy practice notebooks. It seemed like Olivia put a lot of effort in trying to perfect her handiwork. It read:

Hey, it's Oli!

I'm turning six and I want to celebrate it with you!

The contents of the slip of paper were adorned by dainty drawings related to birthdays: party hats, cake, gifts, some decoration and so on. It suddenly dawned on him that he was actually becoming closer to the people he always thought lived a perfect life. His mind had a tendency to wander and, for a fleeting moment, he thought about what it would be like to be part of that perfect life.

Olivia was a perfectionist child. He saw the expected behavior of the age in her manners, but the care with her work almost made him think someone else had done it for her. Something told him it wasn't the case, though.

Secured by two magnets, he placed Olivia's birthday party invitation on his fridge. You know, just so he wouldn't forget it — he tried to convince himself.

Everybody knew about his otherworldly memory, but he decided to forget it purposefully.

"Good morning, good ghost. I didn't see you anymore." Olivia greeted as she saw Spencer in front of the elevator. You were just locking your door closed, hyping yourself up for the week ahead of you when you heard it and a shiver ran down your spine. This, whatever it was, was getting out of hand.

"Good morning, Miss Olivia!" He said, a sweet tone of voice. You melted. "It's true. It's been a while. I was here on the weekend, but it seemed like you had other plans." He stuck his hand out for her to shake. She did it in a heartbeat.

"I was with my grandma and grandpa. They took me to the movies and grandpa made me lasagna." She explained as you approached them, adjusting your bag and Olivia's backpack in each of your arms. "Did'ya get my birthday party invitation?"

"Yes, I did! Thank you for inviting me. But, you know, your mother probably needed the rest of them for the other guests." He said as the elevator opened. He gestured for you to enter it first, so you did it with a grateful nod.

"Sorry, mommy. I didn't mean it." Olivia looked at you briefly, ashamed that you would call her out.

"I know, baby, 's okay. Everyone has one now." You assured her with a light tone. Breathe. "Hi, Spencer. Good morning." You said as he joined you in the elevator.

He breathed out, "Good morning. Hi." He had a big smile on his face, standing right next to you, you both facing the door and Olivia in front of you. Internally, he felt like a puppy who had his owners’ undivided attention.

Olivia pressed the button to the lobby. You noticed a book in his hands. Courage. "So, what are you reading, Spencer?"

He gulped. Were you talking to him? It took him a moment to get a grip and realize that he hadn't answered you. Struggling to find the words and suddenly unable to remember what he was actually reading. "Me? I'm just re-reading one of Dostoievski's books. Notes from Underground."

"Dosto-what?" Olivia chipped in.

You looked at her, ready to tell her to not interrupt someone, but couldn't stop yourself from giggling. Spencer watched it fondly. "It's Dostoievski, baby. D'you remember that one book with the 'ugly' cover that mommy was reading the other day?" You asked her, air quoting the word 'ugly'. “It wasn’t ugly. It just wasn’t pink.” You explained it, looking at Spencer. He grinned.

"Yeah. You didn't read to me because it was work." She said, getting distracted with one of her braids.

"Are you a teacher?" He asked, intrigued.

"No. I actually work for a publishing company. Sometimes I have interesting content to revise." You said, a tinge of irony in your voice. He smiled at you, feeling comfortable enough to joke around him without the awkwardness of that first encounter.

The elevator door opened. Olivia jumped out. "I bet it's interesting," was the best he could come up with. Tongue tied.

“Yeah. It’s a good book.”

Like a fucking teenager, he watched as you left with your daughter. Your mixed laughter echoing in the lobby as Olivia spinned around while you carried the weight all by yourself.

He scolded himself for not remembering to offer you help.

Two days later, a few states over, Spencer sat on a chair at the conference room of the precinct they were working with. The case was exhausting and he just wanted it to be over, but it wasn't that simple. He waited for Derek Morgan — he was his ride that night back to the hotel they were crashing on. He was in front of Derek as he and Penelope talked, her image on the computer screen. The man's nonchalant tone was a riddle for her to unsolve — everyone else was aware that there was definitely something between them (an unspoken dictionary worth of words), even if their interactions were deemed as jokes. Penelope, feeling very shy, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked at her lap after a particular comment about her smile. As she did so, her eyes caught a glance of her watch. "Oh, shoot. I have to go," she murmured, relieved to have a way out of the exchange that had high chances of turning her into a nervous wreck. "I'm so sorry, handsome! Tomorrow is one of my friend's daughter's birthday."

A flash of disappointment crossed Derek's features. Not that she'd noticed. Instead of pressing her, he chose to say, "Need extra energy to keep up with the kids, babygirl?" Ah, there was it. The teasing tone. She was definitely imagining things.

"Not as much as I need to keep up with you, tiger," she replied with a wink, the dynamic between them quickly shifting back to the usual playful banter. Both of them wanted more than playful and far more than banter, but none of them had the courage to admit it, to be straightforward about it. Spencer understood it, really. Speaking made things too real. "But, seriously. I totally forgot to pick up her gift. Olivia loves reading, so I'll go to the mall. I'm glad I already bought it, so I won't get home late."

If he was a dog, Spencer's ears would have definitely perked up from how quickly he associated one thing to another. Could it be the same Olivia? Your Olivia? "Okay, mama. Be safe." Derek said.

"I will," she smiled as she hung up.

Idiots.

Maybe Derek was too serious about the "no profiling each other" rule they set.

"Let’s go, pretty boy," The dark-skinned agent stated. Spencer got up, grabbed his bag and made his way to the elevator with her.

As they chatted about nothing in particular, walking out of the precinct, he desperately wanted to ask him if she truly didn't see past Penelope's sudden shyness. It wasn't in his nature to do that, of course, but as Derek and Penelope were two of the most important people in his life, he wondered why wouldn't they be a thing by now, since they enjoyed themselves so much and were so open about their affections towards one another.

He was quickly ripped away from his thoughts when the man suddenly spoke up, “So, what's your deal lately, Reid? What's she like?"

The doctor choked on his own saliva, which made him cough like crazy. Derek laughed, but tried to help his panicked friend. "What was that, man?" he asked worriedly, once he saw Spencer had finally inhaled a gulp of air.

Face as red as a tomato, cough dying in his throat, "what was what?" Derek returned to his normal self once he noticed his friend was able to finally form a coherent sentence.

"You're gonna act dumb now that you almost died when I talked about her?" Derek questioned, teasing tone, "it was just a lucky guess, but I see you, Reid. You're daydreaming far too often for what's acceptable for the boy genius who's as focused as a laser beam."

Spencer looked straight ahead as they got to the exit. He should have cornered Derek first. "Why would you think it has anything to do with a 'her'?" He chuckled, nervous to be caught red-handed — even if he wasn't doing anything wrong.

Was it wrong to want? He felt like it was. All his life, really. Had no chance to want anything because either was a far too distant reality, person, happiness for him to grasp it or it was ripped away from him too soon, before he could even acknowledge what was happening inside him. That's why want was almost a foreign sensation for Spencer. He had been deprived of it for as long as he could remember.

"Because people get a little dumb when they're in love. At least, ordinary people do. Apparently, so do geniuses," he snickered, his mind also set on teasing Spencer.

Maybe it was dumb to reveal his secret, jaw dropping crush on his cute neighbor, but he wanted some sort of relief to that mess of tangled thoughts inside his head and the strange, to say the least, feelings brewing on his chest whenever he saw you. You barely knew each other. But he supposed it was yet another part of the want he wasn’t familiar with: it didn't need much and it took all consciousness out the door. It wasn't uncommon for him to feel like his heart was being ripped out of his chest whenever he was on the field, especially since he was often facing danger. The way the events were unfolding were scarily similar to his cases: he noticed you, made up theories based on your behavior and routine, and slowly, oh, so slowly, started to approach you. Not to put you away, but for more personal reasons.

What was different was the feeling in his heart, instead of the sensation of being squeezed painfully inside his ribcage, often leading to ragged breathing, now felt like it was being held delicately by a pair of caring, dainty hands. Either way, his heart was fighting in the frontline and relied on the other part to be calmed and saved. The least he could do was try to be careful, finally opting not saying anything to Derek.

"Just a lot on my mind lately," he chose to say, instead. Derek dropped the subject, too tired to press it further.

Olivia's party had come to an end an hour ago. You got to see old friends and talked until they got every single ounce of information about your life lately and so did you about theirs. Your daughter had enjoyed her party greatly, and hugged every. single. person. who came to wish her happy birthday and thanked them for being there. She paid little attention to the gifts, too focused on spending time with her friends, playing with them until the sugar rush wore off — all of them had a massive candy intake that day. You didn't spend much time with her, but she promised you that she would unwrap her gifts the next morning with you, the most adorable toothless grin on her face.

Despite everything flowing accordingly, all day long, your stomach churned with anticipation. You wondered if Olivia's dad would show up, since the day she was born was, quote, the happiest of his life. His parents did, and when you looked at them anxiously, his mother shot you a neutral glance. Not a word from his end was its meaning. Your daughter never asked anything about him during the day, which made you even more jittery. You feared she would have a breakdown at any time, so you paid extra attention to her.

It never came.

You had missed the deadline of a book chapter that you had to revise, too caught up on trying to balance everything in your life, so your parents told you they'd stay with her so you could go home to work and take her in the morning. Normally, you wouldn't accept it, but your father had decided you were too tired to wake her to go home, so you complied. Right after the guests left, you did all the steps of her night routine, except for the bedtime story — she was that tired of all the running around in the backyard. You were sure she would sleep all night long.

Once she dozed off, you stood for a moment in her grand-bedroom (she had come up with that and it kind of stuck with you). Your parents had decorated it while you were still pregnant. She needs to feel at home, was what your mother said when you walked in on them assembling her crib. You almost cried, overwhelmed with joy. Your fiancé, then, had rolled up his sleeves to help out. Oh, the irony.

Her room was full of photographs that held many memories of her six years of life. You could never imagine that you could love this much, let alone dedicate yourself so entirely to someone like you did for her. Even though it was hard and you often didn't feel like you were enough to raise her on your own, Olivia was a wonderful child and her gestures and overall behavior assured you you were doing a good job. The reflection brought tears to your eyes. You drove home by yourself.

Currently, in your apartment, it felt a little too big without Olivia in there — too many books, too many chairs, too much space on your sofa, too many toys scattered around with nobody to play with them. You sighed, deciding on going to the kitchen to make you a cup of tea — you felt like your brain was hammering inside your skull and you still needed to spend time in front of a computer screen. Going back to your small office to wallow in self pity and second guess yourself even as you read whatever material it was, you heard a knock on the door.

You checked your watch. 9p.m. On a Saturday.

Weird.

Through the peephole, you saw someone you truly weren't expecting. "Spencer?" You asked as you opened the door, surprise filling your being. "I didn't think you'd come, I supposed you were at work. I mean, sometimes it feels like you barely have a routine, heh. But, um, thanks for dropping by." You said, a little unfiltered. Not even five seconds in his presence and you were already making a fool of yourself in front of him.

He held a small bouquet of flowers in one of his hands and a gift in the other. To a stranger's eye, it seemed like he had missed your birthday and was trying to apologize for it. You blushed at the thought. He shut his eyes, sorry crossing his features. "I know. I'm sorry I missed it, even though I really didn't want to. You were right, I was away on a case." You smiled, dismissing his apologies and soothing his worries once you did so.

"It's alright with me. She was totally expecting you, though. Kept asking where you were for the first hour. Then she got distracted with candy," you told him, "so she's the one you're gonna need to apologize to." You joked.

"T—that's why I'm here."

"I'm just not sure if Olivia is old enough to get flowers," you said, face serious. His eyes went wide and it took him a moment to understand, but once he looked at your serious expression cracking, his shoulders shook with laughter, with you. If you had more attention, you'd seen the moment his ears turned red.

Your laughter died down. A beat of silence. "These are actually for you." He revealed.

You were stunned. "Oh," you said, suddenly at a loss of words. "Thank you so much."

He gave you the flowers and you gracefully accepted. You were mesmerized by them; colors swimming in harmony before your eyes and the scent making you feel dizzy. Maybe not the scent, but the emotions you were feeling with the surprise. He went out of his way to get you those flowers — it's safe to say that it had been a while since you felt that way. "I—I have no words, Spencer. Really. Thank you so much," your voice choked.

You looked at each other for a brief moment. You tried to show how much you appreciated his gesture. You grinned, trying to get out of that haze, "Do you want to come in? Oli's with my parents, so you won't be able to apologize today," you quipped, making room for him to enter.

"Yeah, I'd love to."

"You can place the giftbox on the coffee table." He went inside, toeing off his shoes in the small space you had before the living room. Once he was there, he saw you enter the kitchen to find a vase. He could see you from where he stood. "Make yourself at home. Do you want some tea? I have Earl Gray."

Your voice was distant as he took in his surroundings. "Yeah, I'd like it." He murmured as he looked around. Your walls were a light gray, adorned with pictures of you and Olivia, some people he assumed were some of your friends. The wall behind the sofa was entirely covered by a big bookshelf that went from one end to the other, filled with books and souvenirs from basically everywhere. The dark wood of the furniture complemented the light walls in a cozy way, some toys and kids books scattered around the floor. The apartment smelled like fresh printed sheets of paper and earl gray tea. You had a few indoor plants that looked well taken care of. Spencer was admiring your degree from Stanford, which hung on the wall beside the TV, almost close to the door.

"One of my biggest achievements. Besides Olivia, of course," you approached him with his mug of tea. Turning to you, he noticed through his peripheral vision that you had placed the flowers inside a vase and in your coffee table.

"Thanks," he said.

"So... are you okay?"

The question caught him off guard. What?

You smiled a little. "You always look kinda tired when I see you," you said, not thinking about how your words might be interpreted. Your eyes widened, realizing it. "I mean, no! Sorry! You're still pretty, don't worry. It's just— I asked because you might be going through something. Forget I said anything about your looks."

He would definitely never forget.

Spencer laughed, flustered, eyes softly gazing at you while you rambled like a madman. "I'm fine, thanks for asking. Sometimes my job is a little demanding and I'm forced to see some things that usually people don't even think exist," he confessed.

You bit your lip. "I'm sorry."

"You don't need to be," he retorted, "I have a great team to work with."

"I'm glad to hear that. Sorry I brought it up, you probably don't want to talk about work right now." You said, sipping on your tea.

"Yeah, you're right, again," he chuckled. "How was Olivia's birthday?" He tried a change of subject.

"That was actually the reason I was moping when you got here," you said, trying to force a chuckle. "It was nice, I guess. I was just on edge all day trying to anticipate her emotions regarding her dad, but I guess they never came. At least, not today." You beckoned him to sit with you on the couch, now facing each other directly.

"May I ask why?" He asked, tentatively.

"Why what?"

More hesitance. "Why wasn't he there?"

"From what I know, he moved away." You said, tone unreadable.

He worried that he was overstepping and wasn't sure that he would like to hear more about it. He was scared to find out unpleasant news, such as you still had feelings for him. "I'm sorry." Was all he could muster.

"Don't be. I have a great team," you repeated his words from earlier and he smiled at you.

His brain and tongue didn't seem to be working together that night, he was so avid to know more. "Did you always have support?"

"My parents didn't like the idea of having a single mother when they first heard it. It hit me hard back then, but then I realized it was better to be alone than to stay in an unhappy relationship, especially since Olivia was already in the picture." You said, setting your own mug on the coffee table.

"What happened?" Stop it.

He couldn't help it, he was too curious. It was his first opportunity to truly know the novel sort of family that you had. Apparently, not so much.

"He was distant before leaving. Someone else, maybe?" You asked, rhetorically, a crease between your eyebrows. "I never found out, but I don't want or need to, either. His parents absolutely love Olivia and they were there today, 's all that matters."

"You’re a very strong person."

"I have to be," you said, softly. "You’re a very good listener."

A rush of courage running through his veins. Deciding on not taking the road of unsaid things, like his friends were earlier. Don’t dance around the subject, take the opportunity. Dare. "And you're just as pretty."

The world stopped. You looked at him in disbelief. It didn't last much. A knock on your door. Scratch that: someone banging on your door.

You pinched your eyebrows together. Spencer stood up, almost as if he was doing something wrong. You looked at him, apologizing, "I'm not expecting anyone."

You walked to the door and he stood behind you, telling you he was going to let you be. You didn't want to and you were already chastising yourself from not trying to talk to him and focusing on your problems instead. You opened the door and in the threshold stood Penelope Garcia, gift basket in hands. Before you could speak, both of your guests spoke at the same time.

A mortified "Garcia?" from Spencer.

A surprised "Spencer?" from Penelope.

Finally, a confused "Do you know each other?" from you.

"Yeah. We work together." Spencer replied. "What are you doing here, Penelope?"

"What are you doing here, boygenius?" Her tone now was teasing, a cheshire grin on her face. You were acting confused, but you were loving to see Spencer so out of place.

"I... I was..." He trailed off.

Poor thing. "He came to drop Olivia's gift. We're neighbors." You explained, trying to save him from further embarrassment.

She glanced between you two, eyes full of mirth behind her glasses. "I'm here to do the same." She said, smiling as she handed you the basket, which you took carefully and thanked her with a side hug. "There's her present, sweetcheeks. I'm so sorry I couldn't be there, you know how much I miss you and Olivia. But I'm sure our genius told you all about it." Her sentimental words truly held emotion, but she turned her attention to Spencer once again. The opportunity was too good to let go.

Spencer looked like a fish out of water. You opened your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it. "Garcia, can we talk?" He asked abruptly. "I'm sorry, I have to go." He murmured in a much more soft tone to you.

He could never resume whatever was going on in there because he felt like he had been caught with his pants down.

You were so surprised you didn't even process what was your answer, forgetting to ask if Penelope wanted to come in or anything. "I—Okay. I'll see you, then." With a small smile and slight disappointment in your voice. He all but dashed out of your apartment and took Garcia, who had a mischievous expression on her face, with him. You closed your door and looked at the mix of flowers. A sigh escaped you. Damn, Garcia.

Spencer was escorting Penelope back to her car, ready to bury himself alive because he knew she would run her mouth and knew precisely to whom she would tell about it. And, of course, the endless jokes he would hear during the next few days. "Sooooo..." She trailed off, suggestively.

"I—don't want to talk." She opened her mouth, but had no success in talking. "Not. A. Word."

She entered her car and started the engine as he waited for her to go. But before she started driving, she yelled, "I knew you had it in you, Reid."

From your balcony, work long forgotten, you watched Spencer hide his face in his hands in utter embarrassment.

You were doomed.

[moodymisty]

Part 1

Author's note: I love him

Relationships: Mortarion/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mortarion's confession, NSFW flashback in the beginning with male masturbation, vomit (nonsexual and unrelated to NSFW scene), gross Morty body stuff, he has zero rizz

The repeated hiss of his respirator is heavy in the stagnant air of the hall, only occasionally losing its smooth crescendo and decline when his throat hitches. His breathing has never been normal- he stopped caring about that sort of thing long ago.

Pale eyes glance around again.

You should be here by now; But he spots nothing familiar.

Did you decide- to for the first time since he first cast his eyes on you- to disobey him? Did something else distract you?

His mind fills with imagery of you wandering off somewhere else, to someone else- and in an impulsive fit of doubt he decides that he would have one of his men drag you here if need be.

He could, and if anything the behavior would be expected of him. Encouraged. You don't make the Pale King wait.

But yet... He waits- patiently- eyes flicking to the entryway every twenty seconds or so. A primarch standing around like a beaten dog waiting for it's master.

Embarrassing.

Attempting to clear his throat Mortarion shifts beneath his clothes, feeling the way they almost stick to his skin. He bathed himself relatively recently by his standards- though instead of the stick of grime and dirt, it's the catch of dried sweat from no less than an hour ago.

He can still feel that sensation in the back of his head, the aftershocks of thoughts and actions forbidden. He hates how this one has lingered. They've all begun to.

His cock throbbed, leaking over his gaunt, pale fingers and making his shaft slicker- and the feeling even more pleasant.

He covered his face full of a warranted shame, grunting and huffing as he ground into his own hand like some sort of feral street dog. His knees cracked, his back ached- he imagined the callused give of his hand was warmer, wetter, tighter- squeezing around him. Pushing back. Trying to push him out; The difference in size too great. The way he was bent made the imagery more vivid, like you were pinned underneath him.

If he closed his eyes tight enough, he could just picture it, though the image was just out of reach- his fingertips ghosting the very edge but unable to grasp it.

He stained the fabric of his bed once he was done, shoving it into the fireplace to burn. No one will ever see the scattering of fabric that is yet burned, nor would they question it even if they did.

How much farther can he let himself fall? Enough that he's found himself overtaken by desires that he once thought were pointless- inconvenient and only satiated out of maintenance, desperate for something he knows he cannot have?

Maybe... Perhaps if he-

If you refuse him, he can abandon this entire pursuit- throw himself back into his work and give not a single thought to you again. You could leave The Endurance and he wouldn't even know you were gone, lost among an endless sea of pointless existences.

Because he can't... he can't keep doing this.

It's consuming his mind- You are consuming his mind.

You eat away at it like a disease bent on devouring him more than the poisons of Barbarus ever have; At least they never impeded with his mental capacity.

As you do right now- your soft eyes eat away at his dried, scarred skin like a flesh eating plague as you come to stand before him, and now his tongue feels as if it's made of lead.

He called you here- coming to you would seem too desperate- and your first words had been to apologize if you had offended him. A smart intuition, because you did offend him; You offended him by refusing to leave his mind, you offended him by refusing to leave him be in the sanctity of his warship, you offended him by offering him what he can only describe as pity.

But pity wears away; You've stayed, endured where your fellows left. For what reasons kept you going? Kept you here? He'd like to know.

"I," Mortarion hesitates for a moment. "I wish to speak to you about a particular matter."

This is it. He is just going to do it. Just get over this, and if you refuse? if you run away from him in fear or disgust? He's down his last remembrancer.

boo hoo. He never wanted them anyhow.

His rusty armor clunks against each other as he shifts. You watch him with expectancy, a soft look on your face that has Mortarion almost at a loss for words, if only for a moment.

He should take off his respirator for this.

It's clunky, gets in the way, he feels like it muffles his speech and baseline humans have trouble understanding him. Their paltry hearing, though it is fact. Though he's never remembered you having an issue with it.

He can feel your eyes watching keenly as he starts to unfasten in, accidentally tangling his hair a bit at the nape of his neck. He hears the hiss as it unseals, and he pulls it away from his face to fasten it to his belt. He feels ok, and takes on full breath of cool Terran air before opening his mouth to let the first unmuffled word pass.

But before a single word can leave his lips he instantly rips into a massive cough, covering his mouth with his hands. He feels spittle and blood from popped blood vessels hit his palms, and his ribs shift uncomfortably as he keels over. He can feel the way his lungs are ripping themselves apart, filling with blood and mucus. The next cough sends him to his knee, his leg plating hitting the ground hard enough to crack the tile beneath him.

He can barely make out your expression standing before him as tears prick the corners of his eyes, and another burst of coughs tear at his throat like the claws of a gauntlet.

You look horrified.

He tries with all his might to tense his throat and halt the hacking, but only manages to suck in just enough breath that it brushes the back of his throat and makes it all worse.

You take a step closer to him, but it's clear there's nothing you can do to help him.

"L-Lord Mortarion! Are you-"

From the incessant coughing his throat seizes up so much, his stomach muscles ache in pain, and he feels a familiar rising warmth in his face and mouth.

No. No no no no no-

Fulgrim's banquet feast from the night before suddenly rises in his throat, then his mouth, and before he can even try stopping it- it's running through his fingers and all over the floor with a disgusting splatter.

After harsh fit of coughing wracks his body, slowly feeling the ache in his chest of his lungs finally healing before it finally secedes; He wipes his eyes to see you standing and staring at him in shock, the primarch's dinner all over the floor in front of you.

Mortarion has had a long life; Longer that yours, by a decent margin. Embarrassment was never something he dealt with.

Now, he feels like he is quite literally going to explode. If the ground were to open up and swallow him, he would probably acquiesce to his fate with little complaint.

No one would miss him. Plus he's sure Garro and Typhon would manage just fine without him.

"Are..."

You look at him with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape. He can see your lips twitch as you try to find the words. He perhaps would understand if your little brain couldn't find any.

"...Are you ok?"

He doesn't quite know how to answer that question, honestly.

His lungs have degraded and rebuilt themselves enough to breathe this cool, poison-less air, and while he had anticipated some coughing, he failed to remember just how... Intense, it could get.

He should have known eating last night was a mistake.

You just seem worried, however- looking at him like he's going to fall right over hands outstretched towards him. You look at him like he's sick, but sick in a way that would could in theory help.

You take a step forward, much to his surprise; Though of course not close enough to risk slipping.

By the Throne- the half thought of that crosses his mind and he wants to cast his own head into his bedchamber's fireplace.

"I-" Mortarion lets out another brief cough; Of which thankfully doesn't lead into another fit. "I am fine."

He is fine- his lungs have adjusted and the air doesn't burn his throat, but you don't seem to take his words seriously. With the deftness of your thin fingers you unwrap the shawl around your shoulders, handing it to him.

"...Here."

He doesn't get what you mean by this at first, staring at the patterned fabric like it in some way offended him. You gesture it out to him again, and he then realizes you're offering it to him to clean up, of which he then begrudgingly grabs, before wiping the bile out of the corners of his mouth and fingers.

The soft fabric of your clothing now destroyed, he balls it up in his fist and holds onto it, discontent to ever dare try and return it to you soiled.

"Lets, lets get you something to drink. I would think you might need one right about now..."

You reach to grasp his hand- the clean one- and try to pull him along, of which he allows, surprisingly.

He lets himself get toted along by someone half his size; A pathetic sight.

He continues to let it happen until you find a serf you can order to get some water, and Mortarion can shirk off to clean his hand and face.

His mouth doesn't taste like bile anymore, at least.

When he sees you again after he's cleaned up, there's an odd look on your face. Your wring your wrists nervously.

"...You were going to say something?" You look at him expectantly, before clarifying. "Before you started coughing, you... You said you wanted to talk to me. What was it?"

He had.

He had wanted to tell you how he felt, and instead he had humiliated himself by coughing blood and vomit all over the floor. He displayed right in front of you that he is a broken, sick and decayed excuse for a man; He was built for death and war, not... this. The fact that he's even allowed himself to make a fool out of himself like this is an embarrassment to the entire legion and reputation he's crafted.

How you could ever look at him the way he so boldly, pathetically, desperately wishes when he- a primarch- just displayed what a vile excuse for a human he is?

Mortarion swallows thickly like there's a literal knot in his throat, before just turning around and walking away.

[spiraleyedpup]

Is there such a thing as a slow release or time delayed hypnotic trigger?

Like you slip a trigger into conversation, and after a few minutes I start taking off my clothes, not fully aware of what I'm doing...

During normal conversation I start forgetting words and losing concentration easily

You ask me to grab something from the kitchen, and after bringing it to you I get on my knees waiting for your approval

You thank me and pet my head and I've never felt happier

I try to say "you're welcome" but instead I bark like a good puppy, and in an instant I become your perfect mindless pet and plaything

Wouldn't that be fun?

[hvbris]

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

Violet raised her eyebrows. "Maybe I will ask them," she replied with a chuckle, nudging him playfully, "maybe I'll ask 'em how reckless you were. Cowboy Theo told me he rode a monster once, when he was a teenager. I wonder what kind of mischief you did." And while she doubted her dad would ever try something quite so brazen as riding a monster, maybe he used to be more reckless than he cared to admit!

She smiled. "Thanks, Dad. I hope too." And she had a feeling this potential boyfriend would have to behave himself if he wanted to be in one piece, as both her mom and her dad wouldn't stand for anything else.

While Violet was not completely reassured, she was still very touched by her father's words, and she wanted to believe he was right. That she would figure it all out. That everything would be ok. She leaned in to hug him tight. It was the first time in a long time that she had gotten to have a normal conversation with her dad (or as normal as possible, at least). It felt good to talk about school, and boys, and simple things like that.

He chuckled at her tease and watched her as she insisted she knew he was a good kid. She had met a version of him trapped in the ward and the other who was just starting out in his work in Delta Green, "Every life has different chapters to it," he said calmly, "I'm glad you think I was a good kid, but if you want the real juice you could ask your grandparents." He cocked an eyebrow and a smile at her, it was a long time ago and much had happened since.

Surprised that the response to the fire had been so harsh at the school, Theo's smile practically fell off of his face. How horrible. "I'm sorry they treated you like that, it's not fair at all and speaks volumes about them, not about you or Klaus." But they had friends in New York now, they could be and he thought they already were very happy in the city with him and Andrea.

Another chuckle came as she explained what she might have done if a boy had been dating other girls and she only found out at prom. Nodding his approval but he knew it would be hard for her to pretend she was innocent if the school ever brought it up. "That would be very satisfying to see, I'm sure. But I hope you're never in that position and that you instead have a nice boyfriend who behaves himself."

Unaware he had not totally reassured or convinced her that it was possible to manage and the consequences of such a balance were heavy to say the least. He thought her thanks was and confirmation were acceptance and he smiled at her again. "You're going to do just fine, Violet. You've got so much ahead of you, you've got this, all of it."

[seat-safety-switch]

In the criminal justice system, the people are represented by two separate yet equally important groups: the people who repair fences, and the people who let them fall apart. These are their stories.

When I moved into my house, the fence was in good condition. In case you're from a country that hadn't invented them yet, "fences" are an artificial construct of humanity meant to delineate the boundaries of property between two or more identical suburban houses. And, being part of your property, they are part of how you are perceived.

Here's the problem: fences are made out of flawed, human construction. Mine was (I think) made out of wood. When that wood rotted, the planks fell out, and maybe a couple posts stayed behind. Suddenly, passersby could see into my property, and see that I was not in fact a Good Person who was Trying Hard To Fit In. Not like themselves, who agonized over every missing flake of Home Depot Eggshell Blue on their own fences after a long, hard winter.

As things degraded further, with neighbourhood children wandering, confused, into my yard after not seeing any fence keeping them from doing so, by-law enforcement was summoned. The belief was that they would punish me for going against the grain, for letting my fence fall apart.

Unfortunately for them, my attorney, who spends most of his spare time writing erotic fan-fiction about our city's specific property-standards bylaws (don't ask to see them, they're really bad, and the main character is an obvious self-insert) was on the case. He actually made one of the bylaw managers quit rather than spend another hour on the phone with him. After all that stress, it turns out that while you can't have a bad-looking fence, you don't actually have to have a fence at all.

One delightful weekend of sledgehammers removed the last of the rotten planks and split posts, and my yard was now full of free-range 1970s shitbox Chryslers. A glorious moment for civilization.

Unfortunately, it didn't take long for me to realize exactly why fences are valuable: they keep the undesirable element out of your yard.

Only a few days after my triumph over the decline of mind-your-own-fucking-businessism, I noticed something strange in my yard. Tucked in amongst where I would normally have terrible cars, someone had parked a fully-intact Ford Galaxie, presumably thinking I wouldn't even notice. As if I could not give special attention to a vehicle that still has its hood and its trunk!

The haters won in the end: I was forced to go to Home Depot, that knurled-wood nest of knavery, and purchase the shittiest chain-link fence kit that I could find. No cost was too great to keep the Fordites away from my homestead, with their firestarting dodgy electrics and perfect paint.

[sirfrogsworth]

Now what?

Whenever I see Trump my brain thinks of my mom and I feel angry about how she died. I have PTSD and I'm actually in the process of seeking out a therapist to address it.

And until I can get some help, I guess I'm just going to feel that anger for a while. I was really hoping I wouldn't have to see or think of him again.

This is pretty bad. And it is really scary. And I hate that one man is capable of causing so much fear and anxiety among the people I care about.

I guess there is one thought I am trying to hold onto.

I recently talked about chronic illness and the "new normal." As illness progresses you sometimes have to accept a new normal and learn to adjust and adapt to it. And every time I was faced with a new normal I was convinced I could not adjust or adapt. But every time I figured it out and found a way to keep going.

I think we will adapt because we have to. We will fight because we have to. But we will need each other to get through this.

Look to your allies. Your friends and your trusted family. Keep those relationships healthy. Do the work to maintain them. Prioritize building and sustaining a personal support system over everything else. Do your part when they need help. Keep in regular contact. Keep the emotional labor as reciprocal and balanced as possible. And don't be afraid to tell them when you feel overburdened. Keep communication healthy so you both feel comfortable expressing hard truths. Open up to them so they feel trusted and make sure they feel comfortable doing the same with you. Try not to lean on one single person too much as they might get overwhelmed.

But also remember to enjoy your friendships. They are not there just to be your therapist. (An *actual* therapist is a good idea if it is feasible.) It's important to laugh and waste time together. Shoot the shit and bond over mutual interests. Or introduce them to your interests and teach them why you love what you love. Ask them about their interests and even if you don't completely get it, be happy that something makes your friend happy.

If you feel like you don't have a support system or it is severely diminished like mine, you'll have to do the work to seek out new people. I'm in that process now after losing my parents. And trust me, I know it isn't easy. I am really struggling to connect to new people. It takes a lot of energy and I haven't had a lot of energy to spare. But I know it is what I will need to help me adapt to the new normal. So I'm going to put in the effort and figure it out. I encourage you to do the same.

You will not connect with every new person. That's okay. Remember this is a process and it takes time. And don't beat yourself up if building your support system is slow going. If nothing else, you are learning and growing and developing tools to help you on this journey.

This community has been so kind to me. You all are a part of my support system. And I feel very lucky to have you in my corner. I love you and I care for you. I'm going to try my best to advocate for what you need. Helping others is another way to keep moving forward. A righteous sense of purpose is a powerful tool in the face of a new normal.

Please take care of yourselves as best you can.

Find your people if you haven't already.

Or find *more* people if you don't have enough.

You are in my thoughts.

[soultiesmingi]

so many thoughts on riding ateez' thighs

hongjoong would happen in his studio. you would sit in there with him at times, getting needy after long sessions. he would let you grind on his thigh while he worked, paying little to no attention to you and your soft breaths.

"you're so cute, you know that? so worked up you couldn't wait? hm?"

seonghwa would be while he was building his damn legos. he would be confused at first but then would get it after he seen you enjoying yourself. he would wrap his arms around your body to keep you close, your needy whines in his ear.

"i'm almost done angel, keep using my thigh baby. you sound so pretty."

yunho would be playing his video game with his headset on so he doesn't hear you walk in the room until you're climbing in his lap. it was normal for you to sit on his lap while he gamed, so when you changed position to straddle his thigh, he didn't react much until you started grinding. his eyes glistening into yours as your moans filled the room when you realize... his mic is still on.

"careful dolly, you don't want them to hear how pathetic my pretty little girlfriend is, hm? is that what you want?"

yeosang & you would be waking up from a nap, both of you smothering each other in light kisses before things got heated. you would lazily grind on his thigh, wearing one of his shirts which he adored. he guiding your hips slowly to draw out his favorite sounds.

"so pretty baby, so so pretty. keep making those noises for me and i'll give you what you want."

san would be straight from the gym his muscles freshly pumped, a sheen layer of sweat on his face, you couldn't help yourself to start riding his thigh when he would get home and sit on the couch to relax, and instead of guiding your hips for you, san would keep a hand on your throat with a solid grip, just enough to keep you where he wants you. san would bounce the leg you're sitting on right before an orgasm just to amplify your pleasure.

"could barely wait for me to get home huh? maybe you can ride my abs next, my needy girl"

mingi would just be getting home from some sort of event and would head straight to your guys' room to see you. you would be so excited to see him until he walks in... wearing a suit.... he would lay back on the bed against the headboard, while you squirming and trying to keep contained. he would notice this and tell you to get on his thigh, pulling your panties to the side before guiding your hips.

"such a messy girl, look at my pants baby - you're making such a mess. you're so pathetic."

wooyoung would doing something so domestic like cooking or cleaning to get you worked up and when he was done you'd ask for attention which resulted in you squirming and grinding on his thigh. he would tease you and stop your movements each time you were close.

"since you like me so domesticated, maybe i should make you a mommy? you'd like that wouldn't you?"

jongho would look at you with the most shit-eating grin as you grind against his thigh, he wouldn't touch you because he'd rather see you struggle to get off without his help. a couple of times he would record you - solely for his own enjoyment.

"i haven't even touched you and you're trembling.. poor baby. should i send this to the guys? so they can see how much of a whore you are for me?"

[the-silver-peahen-residence]

Both Megumi and him were now out here waiting for the man to lower his weapon. Though, he sweatdrops seeing it was a laser tag gun. He wouldn't ask why he has that but he remembers Daichi had one so.....he won't get into the question. As to hearing his question.

"Your still looking for her?" he asked.

"As he said yes. We figured you would have seen what took her given the chaos going on right now." Megumi said seeing the weapon lowered.

"Yeah…I did. But it was big…and it wasn't part of the main crew or heck…I've seen it before…I thought it was under development.." Said the guard.

"Huh, you seen it before and what do you mean under development?"

"Lets just say they were trying to 'fix and reboot' the prototypes here and see if they could fit them into the whole thing. Seems even that didn't work or something is going wrong....but....I'm also guessing your lady friend is...well, in the basement isn't she?"

"........She is. We are trying to save her along with Meko that was taken along with her but given the situation and the disturbing things happening it's hard trying to get to the basement." Megumi said.

"Hmmmm..that's true. After everything, no one can even get near the door to the basement anyway because those animatronics blocked or locked it off. No one can get in normally now thanks to it." the guard said. "Even if you used the key the owner has, it won't work now.."

Megumi said nothing but he was getting ready to do something or use his cursed energy to stop him when hearing they had a gun. He didn't move stopping his arms but that was a bit dangerous.

"Wait...don't shoot." Whether the man is bluffing or such, he won't take any chances. The man lets out a shudder breath, "Whose behind the door."

"It's us. The guys when we ask you questions about what's going on here." Daichi answered.

".......Then come out and prove it...." He said but Megumi looks to Daichi but he decided to prove it. He slowly keeps the bag but he goes to open the door to show himself holding his hands up. The man blinks to see only to remember. Megumi saw it was male security guard.

"Hold on...aren't you that kid from before?....But if your here then where is the other one?" he asked.

[nakylvr]

https://www.tumblr.com/https-lvesick/765820605716152320/aespa-their-kinks-%E1%B6%BB-%F0%9D%98%87-%F0%90%B0%81-%F0%9D%92%A9-otes-aespa?source=share

it would be so sick if you made a katseye version of this post with their kinks

ask and you shall receive 😋🫶 this was actually super fun lowkey

— THE KATS & THEIR KINKS

minors do not interact

SOPHIA ⚓️

EDGING - whether she's giving or receiving, she is a sucker for edging, more specifically to do it to you. she loves the tears that fill your eyes as she does it over and over again, telling you that if you be good then maybe she'll let you cum. do it to her and she is a begging mess trying to get you to let her cum, what a taste of her own medicine

MOMMY - both in and out of the bedroom does sophia adore you calling her mommy. she just cares so much about you and literally goes crazy whenever you say it, it gives her a sense of dominance that she enjoys quite a bit

SENSORY DEPRIVATION - it may seem random, but put a blindfold or ribbon around her head covering her eyes and she is 10x more vocal than normal, the feeling intensifying not being able to see. she would make sure you're okay with it before doing it to you, always so caring like she usually is

MANON 👑

PRAISE - manon is so big on praise no matter whichever one of you is topping or bottoming. she will constantly murmur into your ear everything she loves about you and how she loves you so fucking much. you praise her even a little bit and she's on her knees for you, easily going into subspace with your loving words towards her

OVERSTIMULATION - she love love loves overstimulating you to the point you're crying and pushing her off. she could fuck you for hours if she could, and she only stops when she can tell you're nearing passing out, giving the best aftercare possible

VOYEURISM - this one came to me like a vision i can't explain it. she wouldn't verbally say she totally gets off to watching you touch yourself, but god does she want to just sit there with you watching you do all the work yourself, telling you that if you are able to make yourself cum that then she'll fuck you

DANIELA 🛡️

DEGRADATION - she is big on degrading you when she has control over you, calling you her dirty little slut amongst other names that would hurt in any other environment, but she's never serious about what she says. now, if you're the one degrading her, she's constantly denying everything you say but the way her body reacts says otherwise, secretly loving it

DUMBIFICATION - she is such a sucker for fucking you til the point you can barely do anything except moan her name, and it's so easy when she's so mean when she doms :( but being the switch she is, she almost loves it more when you're the one making her mind go blank and become a fucked out mess

MARKING - for dani, she needs people to know you're hers, and that always ends in you being covered in any type of markings whether it's bruising hickeys along your neck or scratches down your back, and she's always telling you to not cover them

LARA 🗝️

BRAT TAMING - lara is the certified brat tamer despite being one herself at times, she doesn't put up with your brattiness and won't hesitate to fuck it out of you, she's so rough when she does it too you can't even try to respond as she grins wickedly at you asking if you're gonna be a fucking brat again :(

DACRYPHILIA - seeing you so overwhelmed with pleasure that tears well in your eyes is one of the biggest things that turns her on even more than she already is, just the fact that she's the one making you feel so good you're gonna cry has her swelling with pride, always kissing away your tears as they fall

ORGASM DENIAL - a way to break you if you're being a brat, but also just something she loves doing is denying you of your orgasms, and she's so mean when she does it over and over again til you're begging and crying for some kind of release, loving the way your body squirms around as she denies it yet again

MEGAN 🍒

BEGGING - poor girl is such a beggar no matter what you do, whining so needy for something, anything. she'll do it without you even asking her to, she's so shameless and knows you'll easily give in if she begs just a little bit, looking at you with big eyes hoping you'll give her what she wants

THIGH RIDING - on the chance that either you're too tired to do anything or purely trying to torture her, she'll resort to riding your thigh, but rarely can she ever get herself off even with you flexing your thigh every now and then, your hands on her waist pulling her back and forth, whining for you to just help her out :( poor baby

FACE SITTING - for megan, it's the only time she has "control" in the situation, but she is far from domming, she is still your subby baby as she uses you solely for her own pleasure, the pillow princess in her giving up halfway through and just rocking against your face as you take over

[rosenclaws]

Prompt list time!! I would LOVE a smutty #58 with sub!Eddie Alden getting railed by his 5"1 gf and being surprised at how much he likes it. (You can't tell me that Eddie wouldn't be down for at least trying pegging)

58 - “No one’s ever touched me like this, fuck.”

a/n: Full disclosure I have never written anything like this before and I'm not super into pegging myself BUT I will do my very best for you!! Please feel free to correct me or offer suggestions bc this is my first time writing this <3

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, sub!Eddie, pegging (strap on)

"Come on Eddie, you promised." You were crawling over him.

A pout on your lips and puppy dog eyes on full display. See you and Eddie may have gotten drunk one night and placed a bet at the bar below your apartment. He wins and he gets to tie you up, you win and you get to peg him.

Guess who won that night.

Eddie had never done anything like this and neither have you but you were always interested in it. Eddie usually likes to be in control, there's something tempting about giving it all up and letting you take care of him in such a personal way.

"I know baby, so eager." He kisses you softly, cupping your face as you sit in his lap. You grind your hips against his clothed cock.

"Shit." He groans as you sneak your hand below the waistband. He tries to switch positions but you snap at him. Your voice much more commanding than he's ever heard and fuck it makes him shiver.

"Lay down Eddie. Be a good boy for once." His eyes go wide as you press against his chest.

He doesn't fight it as you take control. Loving the feeling of being told what to do. He happily laps at your cunt when you sit on his face. Grinding onto his nose and taking every command and he doesn't even try to hide the whimpers when you take his cock in your mouth. Your mouth is a gift sent from the heavens he's sure of it. All of you is.

"Are you ready?" Your voice is sweet as you ask. He's on all fours and he can feel the cold touch of your lubed up fingers.

"Yeah baby," You kiss him gently as you slide a finger in.

He groans into your lips as you work him open. Keening at the praises your whisper into his ear. He needs to relax and you take your time making sure he is. Working him and whispering sweet words until he had given into the pleasure.

When he's prepped and ready you get the strap ready. It's on the smaller side but you can always work your way up. He's never felt this pleasure before. The lube is dripping down the strap onto his thighs.

The cold helps him calm down as the tip breeches his ass. He moans, burying his face in the pillows as you slowly slide in. His breaths come out in short puffs as you bottom out.

"Such a good boy Eddie, taking it so well." You run your fingers through his hair. Tugging at it and forcing his head back.

"No one’s ever touched me like this, fuck.” He moans loudly as you start to move. His back flexes as you grab onto his hips. What a sight this is. He's a disheveled, panting, moaning mess. Your normally cocky boyfriend is nothing but putty in your hands.

"Fuck fuck." He fists the sheets into his hand. You reach around and stroke his cock, adding more pleasure than he can handle. With a loud moan he comes hard. The veins in his arms popping as he grabs hard onto the sheets.

"Did so good for me baby, my pretty baby." You run your nails along his back soothingly.

Waiting until he's fully relaxed until pulling out. Eddie lays breathless on the bed. The warm fuzzy feeling making his head buzz. He smiles up at you when you climb back into bed. You pet his hair softly and kiss his forehead.

"You okay?" He nods and grins. Already planning on when you can do that again.

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Wednesday Adams having a mute gn!sibling who she has a soft spot for and is protective of?

Black Hearts

|| Wednesday Addams x mute!genderneutral!sibling

|| Warnings; reader is mute, sign language marked similarly to dialogue, Wednesday soft for reader and hinted at Enid, short drabble, reader referred to with they/them

|| Summary; when reader joins Wednesday and Enid for classes, reader helps Enid out on an assignment.

Requests open!

Started; November 6th

Finished; November 6th

~~~

One thing about you, you were mute. You couldn't talk. No matter what you or your family tried, you just couldn't. Which lead Wednesday to be extra protective of you in any school the two of you attended. Human or Nevermore. It didn't matter. She even specifically requested for the two of you to get roomed together. Of course, that ended up happening. And now the two of you shared a room with Enid Sinclair. Who was probably the most talkative girl you and Wednesday knew. At first it was really annoying, but now you both were a little more used to it.

It was a rainy morning at Nevermore today. You didn't have a class first period, so you slept in as much as you could before finally dragging yourself out of bed. Getting ready for the day. You got into uniform and had a snack from your stash. Before meeting up with your sister and Enid after their first class was over. As you joined them, you walked beside Wednesday. The two of you simply listened as Enid rambled on about social media whatnots. Frankly, you didn't care for that. Social media wasn't yours or Wednesday's style; but it was certainly Enid's. Wednesday shared a glance with you and you subtly signed something about how Enid didn't seem like she was going to be quiet anytime soon. That got a little smirk out of Wednesday, who nodded in agreement. Wednesday had made herself fluent in sign language when it became apparent that you wouldn't be able to talk. She was your translator. At least, while you were at Nevermore. Your family had taken the time to learn it too. Though even some of the teachers had started picking it up so they could better help you. Especially those who didn't also have Wednesday in their class the same time as you.

When you signed, despite trying to be subtle, Enid caught it and leaned forwards so she could see your hands better. She then looked to you in confusion, then Wednesday. Enid wasn't fluent in sign by any means. But she did try. It just took her a little longer to understand.

"What did they say? I think I caught something about quiet but I really have no idea what the rest was. What was it?" Enid asked, her rambling never stopping even for questions. Wednesday sighed and shared a glance with you. Deciding not to answer and change the subject entirely.

"Did you do the assignment for our next class?" Normally, Wednesday couldn't care less about small talk. But it seemed to be the easiest way to distract Enid from things she didn't need to know about. Plus, Wednesday wasn't sure if Enid would have gotten annoyed with the comment you'd made about her or not. Likely not, if anything it may have just dampened her mood. Something Wednesday didn't want either, though she wouldn't have admitted it even if you begged her to. She would rather do anything else.

"Assignment..?" Suddenly, Enid looked horrified. Wednesday raised an eyebrow. Knowing exactly why. Enid hadn't done it. You looked at Enid and smirked as you realized the same thing as your sister. You and Wednesday had worked on the assignment together, so you both had it completed. Enid had been on her phone during that time.

"For someone who keeps a blog about the school, you certainly do not seem to know much of what goes on in it." Wednesday commented, finding the whole thing amusing. Even you were grinning.

"It's a gossip blog, not an assignment blog!" Enid replied, panic in her eyes," there should really be an assignment blog, though. Some of us need it." She murmured the last bit," can I copy off one of you? Please? Please? Please!" She clasped her hands together in begging, Wednesday simply sighed while you rolled your eyes.

'Fine. You really should have done the work,' You signed. Then reached into your bag.

Enid titled her head," uhh, something about fine and work?"

"The agreed to help you." Wednesday explained briefly. Enid's eyes lit up as she engulfed you in a hug, making your whole body tense up as you looked to Wednesday. Wednesday grabbed Enid by her shirt collar and pulled her off you, but not with a lot of force. If anything she was pretty gentle about it. You felt relief wash over you as Enid was made to let go, she pouted but respected it. You handed your notes to her and she made the roughest, scrambled version of the assignment out there as the three of you walked to class. It wasn't pretty, but it would have to do.

As for class, it was pretty boring. Enid managed to get the assignment done and handed in while you ended up falling asleep half way through the lesson. Wednesday stayed awake for the both of you. Though she would never admit it, she didn't want you falling behind. She cared about you. Somewhere in that black heart of hers.

[caldella]

FR it was exactly what I was hoping would happen as I was guessing Blitzø would get possessed based on thst trailer clip.

I'm not sure if a normal being told people care about him wouldn't be enough for Blitzø esp. with his deep-rooted issues. Millie was supportive during his breakdown when he was at a low point he doesn't let others see.

And Blitzø always feels no one will value him if he's not providing something. He had no way to provide in that moment. He was helpless. Millie not only said she'd never hate him but proved she had faith in how much Blitzø cares for her and the others even when someone else was trying to prove it wrong.

One thing I loved about Ghostfuckers, other than all of it, was the fact that when the demon began possessing Blitz and jabbing at Millie’s insecurities claiming this is what Blitz thought of her, she did buy it at all.

Almost as soon as he began opening his mouth she called straight bullshit.

Look at her, she doesn’t looked bothered at all, she just looks annoyed that he’s wasting her time.

But it also means so much that she didn’t buy his bullshit, especially because as we can see from Blitz’s reaction here…

…he was so fucking afraid that he would end up driving his best friend away.

And with Blitz’s breakdown earlier in the episode about how he thinks he destroys everyone he loves, it is so important for his healing journey to see that someone is choosing to stand by him.

Millie is not at all blind to Blitz’s faults and she even calls him out on his behavior this episode, rightfully so he was affecting both her and Moxxie’s livelihoods.

But in spite of that, she clocked this manipulative nonsense because she knows Blitz. She knows what he thinks of her because he has shown her time and time again.

That demon’s words don’t mean anything to her, but Blitz’s does. And what are Blitz’s words?

No way was she ever gonna let that slimy fish demon make her doubt her best friend and override that moment and all the other great moments she has with Blitz.

And not only does that showcase Millie’s strength in that she can’t be easily manipulated, it’s also super important for Blitz to see that he had this positive of an impact on her because she has enough faith in his character and their friendship to not fall for that manipulative nonsense.

Blitz is stuck with her just as much as she’s stuck with him and I’m so glad he finally knows it.

[this-lovely-universe]

Lore drop: The bite that damn near kills you

"M!" She got shook, getting pulled out the nightmare "M!"

"Wha- huh- what happened?" She jolted up.

Dorothea was next to her. M assumed that she was the one shaking her.

The other girls were there too, all watching her with concern.

Brook came closer. "You alright?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

They all looked at each other.

'You were kinda screaming..." Finley said quietly.

SHIT

"W-what was I screaming?" She swallowed nervously.

"Someone called Willa."

"And?" M asked.

"You were muttering about someone biting you?"

"Oh god..."

"Um, do you want to share something with us?" Anastasia asked gently.

"You'll hate me." She shook her head, her hand subconsciously hiding her very first scar. "I'm a monster."

Brook sat down next to her. "Have you killed someone on purpose?"

"What?"

"Have you killed someone on purpose?" She repeated.

"No..."

"Have you assaulted someone?"

"No."

"Have you purposely cause someone harm?"

She shook her head.

"Great! You're not a monster!"

"If you haven't done those things, it's gonna to be pretty hard to scare us off."

She couldn't help the smile creep onto her face, but the little goblin in her head kept talking.

They'll still think you're a monster once you tell them

You'll scare them off

You're going to be alone again

Her smile flattered.

"M? Hellooo? Earth to M." Dorothea grabbed her attention again.

"Sorry." She said quickly.

"You were going to tell us something." Brook urged her to continue.

"Uh..."

"We're not going to judge you."

"Yeah, it's okay."

"No pressure tho."

All four of them were trying to be support, but it was coming out so rapidly that they were pretty much talking all at once.

It was overwhelming. It felt like M's hearing had been turned up to 10.

"I'm a werewolf!" She spat out, causing everyone to fall silent.

"...that's it?" Finley asked. "Dude, there's literal demons here. Demons. Plural."

"Yeah. You're a normal person like 98% of the time. It's like what, 12 hours a month you turn into a wolf? that's basically your period personified." Anastasia pointed out.

She just stared at them in shock.

They don't care... they really don't care.

Her eyes stung with tears.

"W-what?"

"Did you ask to get bit? Like, why would we care?"

"I don't know." She admitted.

"If anyone give you shit, we'll-" The next words out Anastasia's mouth would get someone banned from YouTube.

"That was graphic." Finley blinked.

"damn right."

M chuckled. "I'm glad we met."

"Us too, M. Us too."

boom bam reveal number one is out

not the exciting reveal but it's a reveal nonetheless

also like lore drop

@arisdaughter @childofthewargod @dianedantedominic @theorphicforest

@that-girl-cupid @ithacas-prince @daonedaonlyskh @hispanic-child-of-hermes @aria-pane @unhinged-waterlilly

@chaos-pers0nified @ariathemortal @i-was-never-sane @gaygirldoodles @smileyalater

@if-i-could-cry-i-wouldnt @startswithahell

If you want to be added, removed or if I forgot to tag you, let me know :)

[fibro-memes]

Fibro Fog Stories Please!

Ok, so I'm trying to do a little project to show my best friend (and all of you!) that fibro fog is something we all deal with, and doesn't mean something is wrong with YOU personally, no matter how ridiculous/crazy/important the situation is.

Soooooo can we all share our best/worst/craziest fibro fog moments??

I have two to start.

1. The moment that inspired this post....my best friend and I got pulled over today as we were on the way to register her car...because although we were right and it was November, it was actually November of last year and we totally spaced it. (We did a partial last year and forgot we wouldn't be all set til the next year like you normally are. Luckily the cop was very nice and believed us and let us go with a warning and we went straight to register it!)

2. Last year I was at a store looking around. I had a shirt on my arm I was going to buy. I looked around for awhile longer and then headed to the car. Completely forgot the shirt was on my arm and didn't realize it until I was back at the car. (And yes I went back in and paid!)

These stories just go to show it doesn't matter how important things are...brain fog doesn't discriminate. Anyone have more stories to share??

💜💜💜

[orangetintedglasses]

H-hey! MAYBE he just wanted Wolfwood to be happy and comfortable, and not suffer existing in clothes that were basically tatters at this point...! Getting to see what he looked good in was just a bonus--

He was a little too preoccupied to argue that, though. Leaning into the offered touch like a cat, not taking his eyes off his partner as Vash's expression fell into a sort of warm neutral-- where his mouth and brows were set and slightly tense, but his eyes still had some sparkle to them. Especially when they were turned up to Wolfwood. Concern, admiration, gratitude... they were all in there. They all ebbed in soft waves over their connection, too, like the ocean's tide crawling up onto the sands.

"I'm not worried about it, honestly." Vash said gently. It was pretty tempting to just... shift his hips a bit, sit on his knees and let his head rest on Wolfwood's leg, but the man was in pain, so he wouldn't. Really, Vash was just happy they were getting a moment in a room without a camera-- and while the jig was mostly likely up for him, being openly affectionate, even just to this degree, was what could really end up hurting them in the long run. Best to drink it up now while they could.

Having something to lose was something to be... exploited, especially to people working in the Eye. That was something even he knew--

"But you aren't a freak, Wolfwood." he added, eventually, and normally that would've come with his typical pout. The one with puffed out cheeks and furrowed brows... but Vash's expression didn't change. Not one muscle even flickered.

He also wouldn't elaborate further than that; he just said it like it was irrefutable fact and moved on, gaze drifting towards the strap of Wolfwood's bag.

"You brought water and stuff, right...?" though that 'stuff' might be full of holes by now, too. He gently pawed at the strap, trying to bring the bag towards him-- "if any of the supplies made it through that, you should eat something when you're feeling up to it. Maybe close your eyes for a few minutes after, I can keep watch."

Wolfwood, heavy as his body may feel, can't hold back the chuckle at Vash's concern for his clothes, of all things. The blood on his hands is, for the most part, wiped off or dry, so he brings a large palm up to the top of Vash's spiky hair and ruffles it lovingly before running his foreknuckle and tip of his thumb down his cheek.

"If we can afford to, sure. You just wanna dress me up like a kid would dress up a doll, don't ya?"

His thumb gently rubs at the soft skin beneath it as he weakly offers Vash a smile with tired, tired eyes. Serum or not, he lost a lot of blood just now. Exhaustion is unavoidable, even though he's, as the bandit so lovingly put it, a freak.

"I'm fine," Wolfwood starts, then realizes that it's the most pathetic attempt at a lie he's tried to perform in a long time. He hangs his head, sighs, then looks down at Vash again. "I'll be fine. I took a lot of damage there and lost a lot of blood, so I'm a little fatigued. Don't want our all-seeing friend seeing his 'hero' or whatever deal with side-effects from a stupid drug. Would much rather he sees me as... whatever he sees me as."

He cocks his head slowly, shutting an eye as he peers down at the Plant kneeling before him.

"Gonna have a hard time covering for your ass though. He knows I'm a freak; he just thinks you're an average engineer. Gotta hope he doesn't put two and two together."