#we don't feel obligated to stay if we're not feeling comfortable

[theresattrpgforthat]

I saw in the tags of a recent post you mentioned wanting to talk about safety tools—would love to hear your thoughts, especially re: learning and teaching them!

Hello friend!

Oh my gosh, where to start. I love safety tools and I think they can really enhance the game experience, especially when you are trying out tabletop games with a group of people you don't know very well. While it's great if you have a solid group of friends that are all interested in playing games together, a lot of tabletop gamers have to find a group first, and then make new friends along the way.

Entering a new environment is already scary, and entering an environment where you are expected to pretend to be somebody else is even scarier. You're showing a group of strangers a little bit of who you are - and they're doing the same thing. Not only that, improvising a narrative as you go has the potential to visit a wide range of topics - many of which might accidentally trigger a traumatic memory or an innate fear. (I might be preaching to the choir, but best to lay some ground work.)

So, safety tools. I usually layer a number of them into my games, because each tool serves a different use. I usually begin a new game or Session 0 with a quick review of each safety tool, including the X-Card by John Stavropoulos, Lines and Veils by Ron Edwards, The Open Door Policy as introduced by The Gauntlet, and something we call Check-Ins, which are a combination of tools found in Thirsty Sword Lesbians, as well as the Script Change safety tool by Beau Jágr Sheldon. Check-Ins work as follows: if a player is unsure about whether or not the thing they want to try is ok with the group, they can check in. The group then has a chance to rewind, alter play, or give the player a go-ahead. In return for checking in, the player who asked the group is rewarded with a point of XP. For our group, we have decided to edit the Lines and Veils to include Lures as well, Lures being elements that the players are excited to see in the game.

If the group is a group that has played with me before, or if we are playing multiple sessions in a campaign, I'll ask the members of the group to tell us about a safety tool that we use. Sometimes players will even bring forward a safety tool that we haven't used before! Each player who can tell us something about the safety tools we use at the table is rewarded with a point of XP, or something else useful to use in play. We also try to provide examples of what using a safety tool might look like for folks who aren't familiar with the concept.

Not every safety tool works with every group. I would love to use the Support Flower, for example, but I mostly run games online, and haven't found a good way to implement it. But there's many more options than just the ones I provided! If you would like to see a comprehensive list of possible safety tools, I recommend the curated list as provided by TheGiftofGabes on Itch.io.

[whateversawesome]

Spy x Family Chapter 103: Peace and Family

How nice it was to see the Forgers go on an outing again!

A few things to notice...

I'll start with Twiyor hehehe:

This is easily my favorite panel in the chapter. They're getting closer and closer!! Loid sits first, Yor follows. She's not shy about siting next to him. Good for you, Yor! 👏

See how comfortable they are with each other? She has a soft smile and he's not pretending anything; he's just there, existing. By the way, observe their body language: Both of Yor's knees are pointing at her husband, she's also leaning slightly towards him. Twilight, on the other hand, sits at a more neutral position, still it's an open position. Notice how one of his knees is pointing at her too. And their hands are mirroring each other.

It's worth mentioning that Yor is such a good influence on Twilight. This man suffers from anxiety and it's hard for him to turn his brain off and just relax. Yor reminds him of this. She is his peace 😌

And look at Twilight being honest with his wife and admitting something very true about himself (that it's hard for him to stay still). I believe that every time Twilight is honest with Yor, they get closer. In this chapter there wasn't even a fake twiyor moment for this to happen. We're making progress!

Also, did you notice Yor teased Loid?

It is the sacred duty of a wife to tease her husband and call him old every once in a while 🤣 I'm glad Yor is finally fulfilling this fun wifely obligation 😆

All joking aside, it's pretty obvious Yor feels much more comfortable with Loid now. When they are with other people, she still gets nervous, probably because she thinks she could mess up and blow their cover. However, when they are alone, she seems much more relaxed and able to make comments like this that show that she trusts Loid enough to joke with him, to tell him in between lines that she notices things about him (just as he notices everything about her) and that she worries about him too.

Endo is a master of "show, don't tell" and he's been showing us how Twilight and Yor are getting closer little by little. It's in every detail: their body language, the way they talk to each other, the words they use, how they see each other.

Another example in this chapter? Twilight is incapable of saying "no" to his wife hehehe.

Yup, he still has that shoujo filter attached to his eyes when it comes to Yor.

Now that we have overanalyzed Twiyor, it's time for some crazy theories.

This could be important!

Don't you find it funny that each gave a different answer according to their experience?

Yor feels lonely, because she doesn't feel like she's normal enough to belong to society and it's hard for her to make friends.

Twilight got separated from his his herd. His family and friends died and he had to go to a different country, where he is scared and feels in constant danger just like Belle.

AND ANYA?! I'm wondering if this is a clue. I'm wondering if Anya is a missing person, meaning someone is looking for her, whether it's Project Apple or her biological family.

Talking about Project Apple, we seem to get crumbs every once in a while. I believe it's still too early to get an arc that will actually involve Anya and Project Apple together, but we'll know more as the story moves forward. It's a good sign that Project Apple is in Twilight's mind; he has good instincts for this. We may see him or Yor get involved with it in one of their missions before we learn Anya's past. OR either of her parents may discover what Project Apple is really about without knowing one of the test subjects is their own daughter.

Something that Anya has said several times is that her parents are dangerous people. It's easy to forget about this, but it's true. Twilight and Yor are very dangerous, but not for Anya. The day they find out someone hurt their little girl, it'll be a very bad day for all the people who participated in Project Apple.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Simon Said | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual ? )

Warnings: mind control, canon violence, canon gore, consent lines blurry bc mind control but nothing happens to the reader, mind control attempted suicide

Word Count: 5301

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

“I don't know, man, why don't we just chill out, think about this,” Dean said, trying to soothe his brother.

Sam had another vision while he was washing his face a state or two back. Dean was having to be the level-headed one at this moment because Sam was a complete basketcase. “What's there to think about?” the latter asked.

“I just don't know if going to the Roadhouse is the smartest idea,” Dean replied.

“I agree. I like ‘em, but I don’t trust any of them enough yet to tell them about this,” you said earnestly. 

“Guys, it's another premonition. I know it. This is gonna happen, and Ash can tell us where,” Sam protested. “Plus, it could have some connection with the demon. My visions always do.”

“That’s my point,” Dean said. “There's gonna be hunters there. I don't know if going in and announcing that you're some supernatural freak with a— a demonic connection is the best thing, okay?”

“So I'm a freak now?”

You gritted your teeth awkwardly.

Dean slapped Sam on the thigh. “You've always been a freak,” he smiled weakly. 

You looked at Sam concernedly, and it seemed he couldn’t keep still even if his life depended on it.

“Sam, it’s gonna be fine, I promise,” you said. 

He looked back at you, offering a small smile at your attempt to comfort him. You could tell he was unconvinced.

***

When you arrived at the Roadhouse, Jo bounded up to you and the brothers. “Just can't stay away, huh?” she grinned to Dean.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. You knew your jealousy was baseless but still could barely hold it at bay.

“Yeah, looks like. How you doin', Jo?” the older brother asked her.

Sam hurriedly asked, “Where’s Ash?”

“In his back room,” Jo replied.

He brushed past her wordlessly.

Jo turned after him, watching him go. “And I'm fine…”

“Sorry, he's, we're... kind of on a bit of a timetable,” Dean explained, following after his brother. You nodded and gave a closed-lip smile to Jo, who returned it, before heading after Dean.

You arrived at a door labeled, “ Dr. Badass is: IN.” You snorted at the sign, and Sam knocked on the door. “Ash? Hey, Ash?”

Moments passed; no answer. You knocked, this time saying, “Hey, Dr. Badass?”

The door unlatched and opened a crack to reveal a stark naked Ash. You averted your eyes, feeling intensely uncomfortable.

“Sam? Dean?” Ash sounded high. “Sam and Dean. And (Y/N). Hey, (Y/N).”

You laughed awkwardly, still turned away from Ash standing in the doorway. “Hey, Ash. Um. We need your help.”

“Well, hell, then! Guess I need my pants.” He shut the door, and you and the brothers turned to move back to the bar.

Sam described the scene from his dream and drew a logo of the bus he saw in his dream. Ash sat at a table with his homemade laptop and somehow found the logo based off Sam’s drawing. “Well, I got a match. It's the logo from the Blue Ridge bus lines in Guthrie, Oklahoma.”

“Okay. Do me a favor—” Sam began. “Check Guthrie for any demonic signs, or omens, or anything like that.”

“You think the demon's there?” Ash asked.

Sam nodded. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Why would you think that?”

Dean gruffly replied, “Just check it, alright?”

You shot him a look, as did Ash. He obliged, though, and said, “No, sir, nothing. No demon.”

“Alright, try something else for me. Search Guthrie for a house fire. It would be 1983, fire's origin would be a baby's nursery, night of the kid's six month birthday,” Sam said.

You looked around for eavesdroppers, only to find Jo cleaning a table nearby and watching your group.

“Okay, now that is just weird, man,” Ash protested. “Why the hell would I be looking for that?”

Sam pulled out a beer and set it next to his laptop. “'Cause there's a PBR in it for ya.”

Before Sam could finish his sentence, Ash replied, “Give me fifteen minutes.”

You sat next to Ash as he continued his work, and Dean left to get a beer from Ellen. Suddenly, REO Speedwagon’s “Can’t Fight This Feeling” started playing from the jukebox. You turned your head to the source of the sound and found Jo sauntering over to a horrified-looking Dean at the bar. Your blood boiled, but you just looked back at Ash and his computer. However, you didn’t register anything he was saying or scrolling through.

All you could think about was Jo’s attempted flirting with Dean. Technically, neither party were doing anything wrong; you and Dean had agreed to be friends for the time being. But you were furious at the thought of the two of them together. How disrespectful would that be for Dean to get with Jo days after saying he wanted you and agreed to be friends for now? Your jaw clenched, and you clutched your beer tighter.

Sam snapped in front of your face. “(Y/N), let’s go.”

You broke out of your thoughts and grabbed Dean’s jacket, pulling him along with you.

“See ya, Jo,” you called over your shoulder, stomping out of the bar with Dean in tow. 

Dean chuckled at you, gently shrugging you off him. He stooped down to your level and whispered lowly, “Jealous?”

You jerked away from him, cheeks heating in embarrassment. “No.”

He just smirked in response and kissed the side of your head. “Sure, sweetheart.” He then walked ahead of you to the Impala. 

You froze, flustered and unappreciative of the effect he had on you. “Dean—!”

***

“Sam, you can’t tell me Lord of the Rings is better than Erin Brockovich,” you argued with the younger brother. The two of you had been locked in a heated debate on your favorite movies of recent years, and these two were the next in question.

“(Y/N/N),” Sam started, “Lord of the Rings is based on six books of Tolkein’s experience in World War I, and Erin Brockovich is—”

“Two hours of fuckin’ perfection,” you cut him off. “Julia Roberts acted those other bitches under the table.”

“But the worldbuilding, (Y/N), it’s not even comparable!” 

“Yeah, if you stick around long enough to learn about it. It’s a snoozefest from start to finish,” you giggled.

He scoffed. “Okay, what about—”

“If you two keep talkin’ film nerd, I’m gonna kill myself,” Dean grumbled.

“Killjoy. If it’s not eighties horror, you’re not interested, huh?” you commented, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning back in your seat. 

Dean’s eyes met yours in the rearview mirror. “Did you actually read anything back there, or….?” 

“I did, thank you very much.” You pulled the stack of papers on the seat next to you into your lap. “Andrew Gallagher. Born in ‘83, like Sam. Lost his mother in a nursery fire exactly six months later, also like Sam.”

“You think the demon killed his mom?” Dean asked.

“Sure looks like it,” Sam responded.

“How did you even know to look for this guy?” Dean asked you.

“Well, Sam’s visions have all been attached to the demon or the other kids—”

“Like Max Miller, remember him?” Sam cut you off.

Dean scoffed. “Yeah, but Max Miller was a pasty little psycho.”

“Well, yeah, but my point is, he was killing people,” you began.

Sam continued, “And I was having the same type of visions about him. And now it could be happening all over again with this Gallagher guy.”

Dean asked, “How do we find him?”

You blew air out through your pursed lips. “Don't know. No current address, no current employment. He still owes money on all his bills; phone, credit, utilities—”

“Collection agency flags?” the older brother questioned.

“None in the system.”

“They just let him take a walk?”

You shrugged. “Seems like it. There's a work address from his last W-2; about a year ago. Let's start there.”

***

You and the brothers stopped at a coffee shop dressed in your “formal attire” to question a girl you knew to be friends with Andrew Gallagher about his whereabouts. 

“You won't get anything out of Andy, guys. I'm sorry, but they never do,” she said.

“ ‘They’?” Sam asked.

She tilted her head in confusion. “You're debt collectors, right? Once in a while they come by. I don't know what Andy says to them, but they never come back.”

“Actually we're- we're lawyers. Representing his Great Aunt Leta. She passed, god rest her soul, and left Andy a sizable estate,” Dean lied. “Are you a friend of his?”

“I used to be, yeah. I don't see much of Andy anymore.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

A man came up behind the bashful woman. “Andy? Andy kicks ass, man.”

“Is that right?” Dean questioned.

“Yeah. Andy can get you into anything. He even got me backstage at Aerosmith once; it was beautiful, bro.”

The woman turned to him. “How about bussing a table or two, Weber?”

“Yeah. You bet, boss.” The man named Weber turned away.

“Look,” the woman sighed, “if you want to find him, try Orchard Street. Just look for a van with a barbarian queen painted on the side.”

“Barbarian queen?” Dean’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“She's riding a polar bear. It's kind of hard to miss.”

***

She was right. It was incredibly hard to miss. You and the Winchester boys sat in the back of the Impala, having caught sight of the blue van with the aforementioned painted on the side of it from across the street.

“I'm sorry, I'm starting to like this dude. That van is sweet,” Dean grinned. He turned to his brother. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Sam, you look like you're sucking on a lemon, what's going on?”

The brunet sighed. “This Andrew Gallagher, he's the second guy like this we've found, Dean. Demon came to them when they were kids, now they're killing people.”

“We don't know what Andrew Gallagher is, alright? He could be innocent,” the older brother argued.

“My visions haven't been wrong yet.”

“Sam, you’re not one of them, if that’s what you’re concerned about,” you said.

“(Y/N), the demon said he had plans for me and children like me,” he replied. “Maybe this is his plan, maybe we're all a bunch of psychic freaks, maybe we're all supposed to be—”

Dean scoffed. “What, killers? So the demon wants you out there killing with your minds, is that it? Come on, give me a break. You're not a murderer, Sam! You don't have it in your bones.”

“No? Last I checked, I kill all kinds of things."

“Sam, that’s different,” you chimed in. “We kill shit that’s already dead. Or… undead. Or… not human— What are you looking at?”

“Got him,” was all Sam replied with. He nodded toward a man walking down the road in a robe, sandals, and baggy pants. The man in question blew a kiss up at a beautiful woman in lingerie leaning out of a window and waving down at him, got a coffee from some random guy he was passing, and then, shook hands with another. 

“That's him. That older guy, that's him, that's the shooter,” Sam rushed out, referencing the man Andy had shaken hands with.

“Alright, you keep on him, we'll stick with Andy. Go.” Sam got out of the car at his older brother’s command.

“We will?” you asked, climbing over the front seat. 

“C’mon, sweetheart.” Dean followed Andy— who had just climbed into his ostentatious van and began to drive off— closely. 

A few minutes of following the man into a suburban area later, the van stopped in the middle of the road and approached the Impala. You discreetly handed Dean his gun from the glovebox and tucked yours into your jacket.

Andy leaned into the rolled-down window of the Impala. “Hey.”

“Hey, hey,” Dean replied.

“This is a cherry ride,” Andy grinned. “Man, the '67? Impala's best year if you ask me. This is a serious classic.”

“Yeah. Y'know, I just rebuilt her, too.”

“And who’s this gorgeous lady you got next to ya?”

“Oh, I’m (Y/N),” you smiled, suddenly not feeling right.

“Hey, can I have the car? And her, if she’ll let me?” Andy asked you and Dean.

“Sure, man,” Dean grinned, getting out of the car to let the man into the driver’s side.

“Hi, handsome,” you smiled, draping yourself over Andy’s shoulder. You weren’t quite sure what was happening to you, but you knew you weren’t fully in control of what you were doing.

“Take it easy,” Andy told Dean before driving off with you.

“Where ya takin’ me?” you asked him, still mentally horrified by the effect he was having on you. 

“You’ll see,” he grinned, and you settled into his shoulder as he continued to drive.

***

About ten minutes later, the man driving you around received a call that seemed to really upset him. He drove a little faster and parked the car moments later once you’d arrived in front of the café you’d first gone to when you rolled into town.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” you asked, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Uh, I—” he paused, sighing. “Stay here, okay?”

“Okay!” You sat patiently with your hands folded in your lap, waiting for him to come back. You suddenly seemed to realize what you’d been doing and looked around yourself, trying to gain your bearings. You were relieved to see Dean and Sam approaching you. You jumped out of the car and leapt into Dean’s arms. “Dean! What the hell, man, he full-on Obi-Wan-ed us!” You let him go and hugged Sam. “What’s wrong, dude, you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“That guy, um, from my visions, he stepped out in front of a bus. Right after he got off the phone,” Sam explained. “We’re thinkin’ Gallagher called him.”

Your brows furrowed and stomach dropped. “Oh.”

“He would’ve had to be on the phone with you in the car,” Dean added. “Was he?”

You shook your head. “No. I mean, not until a second or two before he ditched the car and me in the front seat.”

“Did he… do anything to you?” Sam asked. 

You shook your head.

“A real Samaritan, this guy,” the brunet quipped.

You turned to Dean talking to his car. “Oh, baby, I promise I’ll never leave you again.”

“Do you want a moment alone with her?” you deadpanned to Dean.

“We have a special bond,” he said after a pause. He turned back to his car. “She just doesn’t understand us.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress the smile tugging at the ends of your lips. “Anyway, he didn’t give any kind of a command over the phone. If anything, he was upset when he answered his phone not ten minutes ago. I don’t think he’s our guy.”

“Either way, how are we going to track this guy down?” Sam asked.

“Not a problem,” Dean smirked.

***

“I’ll give you that, his ride isn’t exactly ‘covert’,” you said upon finding the van again. 

Dean pulled a small crowbar out of his jacket and pried the doors of the van open with it. The opened doors revealed a disco ball, fur rugs, a tiger painted on the wall, several thick books, and an enormous bong.

“Oh. Oh, come on. This is— this is magnificent, that's what this is. Not exactly a serial killer's lair, though. There's no... clown paintings on the walls, or scissors stuck in victims' photos. I like the tiger,” Dean chuckled in awe.

“Dean, he tried to kidnap me. And he kidnapped your car. Can we stay focused, please?” you deadpanned. You looked down at the books. 

Sam picked one up. “Hegel, Kant, Wittgenstein? That's some pretty heavy reading, guys.”

Dean picked up the glass object lying next to them. “Yeah, and, uh, Moby Dick's bong.”

***

Sam and Dean bickered over whether or not they thought Andy was guilty as you zoned out in the backseat. That was, until, the man in question hit the passenger’s side door, startling all three of you.

“Hey! You think I haven't seen you three? Why are you following me?” He asked, his voice reverberating strangely in your ears.

Sam calmly began to explain. “Well, we're lawyers. See, a relative of yours has passed aw—” 

“Tell the truth!” Andy’s voice echoed in your mind.

“We hunt demons,” Dean rushed out.

Andy jerked back in surprise. “What?”

“Dean!” Sam scolded.

“He’s telling the truth,” you jumped in. “That’s Sam. He’s Dean’s brother. I’m (Y/N). I met their dad on a hunt, and, uh, here I am! I follow them everywhere because they’re my best friends and the only real family I’ve ever had, and I’m terrified of losing them, and I followed them to you.”

“(Y/N), shut up!” Sam chastised, turning to face you. 

“I’m trying,” you said.

“He's psychic. Kind of like you. Well, not really like you, but see, he thinks you're a murderer,” Dean continued, “and he's afraid that he's going to become one himself, 'cause you're all part of something that's terrible. And, I hope to hell that he's wrong, but I'm starting to get a little scared that he might be right.”

“Okay, you know what? Just leave me alone,” Andy said.

“Okay,” Dean nodded.

Andy walked away from the door, and Sam followed. You and Dean clutched your heads.

“Holy fuck, that hurt,” you groaned.

“Did you really mean that?” Dean asked, clutching the bridge of his nose.

“What, that this hurts?” you scoffed.

“No, about me and Sam.”

“Dude, he made me Professor-Xavier-level spill my guts,” you grumbled. “I couldn’t have lied if I tried.”

Dean gave you a confusing look, but you got out of the car, feeling embarrassed. Sam held up a hand, warning you not to come any closer. You could vaguely hear Andy and Sam arguing about the origins of their powers and the doctor’s death, but all you could focus on was what you’d just admitted.

“(Y/N)—” Dean started.

“No, Dean.” You looked up at him. “We can talk about it one day when this is all over. Just… for now, let’s not.”

He didn’t say anything, but eyed you curiously. Before either of you could say another word to each other, Sam began to collapse to the floor. You and Dean ran to him to catch him and lowered him to the asphalt.

“Sam? What is it?” Dean asked his brother, shaking him.

“Look, I didn't do anything to him—”

“We know you didn’t,” you told Andy.

Sam snapped to attention. “A woman. A woman burning alive. A gas station, a woman is gonna kill herself.”

Andy’s voice rose significantly in pitch. “What does he mean, going to? What is he, what is—”

“Shut up!” you and Dean told Andy.

“She gets triggered by a call on her cell,” Sam continued.

“When?”

“I don't know.” Dean helped his brother stand as he continued talking, “But as long as we keep our eyes on this son of a bitch, he can't hurt her.”

Andy raised his hands up in surrender. “I didn't hurt anybody.”

“Yeah, not yet,” you said. Your head jerked toward the sound of a fire engine roaring and flashing by you on the highway next to you.

“Go,” Sam told you and Dean. The two of you sprinted to the car and headed off to follow the firetruck.

When you arrived, you were disheartened to see the first responders trying to put out the fire, keep civilians away, and recover the charred body of the woman who had died.

Dean immediately called Sam. “Hey, it's me. She's dead. Burned up, just like you said… Like minutes before I got here! I mean, the smell hasn't even cleared. What's up with your visions, man? This wasn't even a head start… Listen, you were with Andy when this whole thing went down, so it- it can't be him, it's gotta be somebody else doing this… What else is new? Well, we'll dig around here, see what else we can find.”

You and Dean roamed around talking to first responders and bystanders, posing as relatives of the woman who’d died. It was one of the things you felt guilty about in your line of work; posing as relatives of the dead to get information felt disrespectful to you. But alas, you had to, in this case.

You and Dean drove in silence back to the lot where Sam and Andy were talking on the bed of a broken truck as you rolled up. 

“Victim's name was Holly Beckett, forty-one, single,” Dean explained to Sam.

“I called Ash back at the crime scene,” you began. “Said he found a Holly Beckett who gave birth when she was eighteen, back in ‘83. Same day you were born, Andy.”

“Andy, were you adopted?” Sam questioned.

He nodded as if it were obvious. “Well, yeah.”

Dean glared pointedly. “You were? And you neglected to mention that?”

“Never really came up,” Andy deadpanned. “I mean, I, I never knew my birth parents, and, and like you said my adopted mom died when I was a baby— do you, do you think this Holly woman could actually be my m—”

“I don't know,” you explained. “I tried to get a copy of the birth records, but they're hard copy only, sealed in the county office.”

Andy smirked. “Well, screw that.”

***

You and the brothers went through the drawers of file cabinets searching for phone records as Andy began leading the guards out of the room.

“Probably shouldn't have left you kids in here,” the guard said.

Andy rubbed a hand over his back. “No, it'll all be fine. Alright? Just go get a cup of coffee.” As the guard left, he continued, saying, “These aren't the 'droids you're looking for.”

You and Dean grinned. “Awesome,” the older brother said.

“I got it,” Sam said. “Andy, it's true. Holly Beckett was your birth mother.”

Andy looked like he’d been punched in the stomach. “Huh. Does anyone have a Vicodin?”

"No Vicodin. Weed, though," you told him, offering him a joint from a pack of pre-rolls in your jacket.

Andy considered but shook his head.

“Dr. Jennings was her doctor, too, I mean, he oversaw the adoption. You have a solid connection to both of them.”

“Yeah, but I— I didn't kill them,” he rushed out.

“We believe you,” Sam told him.

“But uh, who did?” Dean questioned.

“I think I got a pretty good guess,” Sam replied. “Holly Beckett gave birth to twins.”

Andy’s jaw dropped. “I have an evil twin.” He looked to you. "I may take that joint now."

Sam began flipping through another folder of documents. “Holly put you and your brother up for adoption. And you went to the Gallagher family, obviously, and your brother went to the Weems family from upstate.”

You looked over at the zoned-out Andy. “You okay? Still with us?”

He shook his head and looked over at you. “Um. What was my brother's name?”

Sam flipped to another page. “Here. Um, Ansen Weems. And he's got a local address.”

“He- He lives here?!”

Dean pushed a few buttons on the computer. “Let's get a look at him. Got his picture coming off from the DMV right now.”

“Dean, you can barely work a toaster. How’d you find his picture from the DMV?” you asked.

He just glared at you in response. You could tell he was messing with you, though.

You pulled the paper off the printer, eyes widening as you recognized the man in the picture. “Hate to kick you while you're freaked,” you said. “Take a look at that.”

When Andy caught sight of his friend from the café Weber looking back at him from the printed off image, his jaw dropped even further in shock.

***

It was a race against the clock to find where Weber had taken Andy’s ex-girlfriend, Tracy— the woman you spoke to at the diner— after Sam had another vision about her jumping off a bridge. Sam’s visions were getting more intense and painful; poor guy. Andy directed Dean to the bridge Sam described from his vision, and the four of you climbed out of the car in unison.

“(Y/N), Dean, you should stay back,” Sam said.

“No argument here. Had my head screwed with enough for one day,” Dean leaned against his car next to you. You watched Andy and Sam head to fend off Weber when you got an idea. “You got a Remington in the trunk? Or an FR F2?”

He smirked at you. “Have you met me?”

***

You and Dean found a spot in the trees far enough away from the scene below to get a clear shot at Weber without being able to hear one of his commands. Dean only had one FR F2, and you convinced him to hand it over to you. You were a damn near perfect shot and could easily take this guy out.

You lined up your shot, smiling smugly when you centered his head on the cross in the middle of the scope. ‘Gotcha,’ you thought. Suddenly, his head turned to you. He said something you couldn’t hear, but it was enough to get you to tuck the barrel of the rifle under your chin.

“(Y/N)! Stop it!” Dean tugged on your arm and managed to wrestle it away from the trigger when another gunshot rang out. As you came back into full control of your body, your breathing labored. You dropped the gun and collapsed backward into Dean’s chest, and his arms circled you as you turned your face into him.

“I got you, I got you,” he assured you as you wound your hands around his neck and buried your face in his chest.

“C’mon, we gotta get Sammy,” Dean said, pulling you down the hill to the bridge with him. 

You found Sam passed out on the floor and sat with Dean while he did his best to wake his brother up. When he did finally awaken, the paramedics had begun to arrive. Andy’s skills were clearly developing given the way he spoke to the police about the incident.

“He shot himself. And you all saw it happen,” he told them. All of the policemen nodded in affirmation.

The paramedics fixed Sam’s shoulder and wrapped a disposable blanket around Tracy’s shoulders. You watched Tracy’s frightened gaze that she couldn’t quite meet Andy’s eyes with. You knew she wouldn’t ever see him the same, and that broke your heart a bit. Andy seemed to understand that, too.

“She won't even look at me,” he noted.

“Yeah, she's pretty shaken up,” Sam gently responded.

“No, it's— this is different. It's, uh, I never— I never used my mind-thing on her before. Before tonight. She's scared of me now.” His face fell as the words left his lips; as if it became real for him.

“Hey, Andy, I hate to do this, but um, we have to get out of here. Here. I wrote down my cell.” Sam handed him a piece of paper with his phone number on it. “You don't have to be alone in this, alright? If anything comes up, just call me up.” 

“Wha- what am I supposed to do now?”

“You be good, Andy. Or we'll be back,” Dean stated firmly.

“Looks like I was right,” Sam said as you walked back to the car with the brothers.

“About what?” Dean questioned.

“Andy. He’s a killer after all,” he responded.

“No, he's a hero. He saved his girlfriend's life, he saved her life.” Dean pointed to you, his voice becoming firmer.

“Bottom line, he wasted somebody,” Sam argued.

“No, dude,” you jumped in. “He’s not a foaming-at-the-mouth psycho, though. He was pushed into that. All of us would’ve died had he not.”

“Weber was pushed too, in his own way. Max Miller was pushed. Hell, I was pushed by Jessica's death.”

You scoffed. “What’s your point, man?”

“Right circumstances, everyone's capable of murder. Everyone. Y'know, maybe that's what the demon's doing. Pushing us. Finding ways to break us,” Sam continued.

You considered Sam’s words. “I agree that everybody’s capable, but—”

Dean cut you off. “Sam, we don't know what the demon wants, okay? Quit worrying about it.”

“You know, I heard you before, Dean, when Andy made you tell the truth. You're just as scared of this as I am.” Sam turned to his brother.

Dean scoffed. “That was mind control! I mean, it's like, like, that's like being roofied, man, that doesn't count.”

“What?”

“No. I'm- I'm calling do-over,” the older brother responded petulantly.

You giggled. “Are you five?”

“Doesn't matter. Look, we've just gotta keep doing what we're doing, find that evil son of a bitch and kill it,” he told Sam.

The brunet sighed, “Yeah, I guess.”

Dean’s phone rang through the uncomfortable silence. “Hello? Ellen. What's going on? Yeah, we'll be right there.”

***

When you arrived at the Roadhouse, Jo eyed Dean wantonly. You were repulsed, but you stomached your jealousy and pushed forward to Ellen. “What’s going on?” you asked her. 

She motioned for you to sit at the bar. You did so, confused. 

“Jo?” Ellen called to her daughter from behind the bar. “Go pull up another case of beer.”

“Mom,” she groaned.

Ellen stared her down. “Now. Please.”

As Jo left, Ellen leaned across the bar in front of you and the boys. “So. You uh, you want to tell me about this last hunt of yours?”

Dean shook his head. “No. Not really. No offense, it's just kind of a family thing.”

“Not anymore,” she responded. She dropped a stack of papers on the bar in front of you. “I got this stuff from Ash. Andrew Gallagher's house burnt down on his six month birthday, just like your house. You think it was the demon both times, don't you? You think it went after Gallagher's family?”

Sam answered before Dean could. “Yeah, we think so.”

“Sam—” Dean scolded.

“Why?” Ellen asked.

You began, “Ellen, you’re lovely and all, but this really isn’t—”

She cut you off. “You mind your tongue with me, girl. This isn't just your war, this is war. Now, something big and bad's coming, and it's coming fast, and their side holds all the cards. Now, at best, all we got is us. Together. No secrets or half-truths here.”

You eyed her warningly as Sam spoke. “There are people out there, like Andy Gallagher, like me. And um... we all have some kind of ability.”

“Ability?” Ellen asked.

Dean rolled his eyes, uncomfortable.

“Yeah. Psychic ability. Me, I have, um, I have visions. Premonitions. I don't know, it's- it's different for everybody. The demon said he had plans for people like us.”

“What kind of plans?”

“We don't really know for sure.”

“These people out there; these psychics— they dangerous?”

You and Dean jumped in quickly. “No.” Dean finished by saying, “Not all of them.”

Sam eyed his brother. “But some are. Some are very dangerous.”

“Okay, how many of them are we looking at?”

“We've been able to track a clear pattern so far. They've all had house fires on the night of the kid's six month birthday,” Dean explained.

“That's not true,” Sam told his brother.

You turned to him, confused.

“Weber? Or Ansen Weems, or whatever his name is— I looked at his files, and there was no house fire. There's nothing out of the ordinary,” he explained.

Ellen took yours and Dean’s shock as an opportunity to rejoin the conversation. “Which breaks pattern. So if there's any others like him, there'd be nothing in the system. No way to track 'em all down.”

“And so who knows how many of 'em are really out there?” Sam added.

Jo walked up behind you and the boys.

“Jo, honey?” her mom said. “You'd better break out the whiskey instead.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[sparrowrye]

Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, part 16

Synopsis: soulmate AU where you have the same mark on your body as your soulmate, and if your soulmate dies, you die too. Alastor needs to make sure that his soulmate is safe so he can continue his reign - whatever that takes. Though it looks like we have a couple secrets of our own.

Previous part

Part 16: purgatory

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything was sore. I had a bandage over my one eye and around my neck. Sitting up took so much effort and strain. I stared up at the ceiling, at the very least taking comfort in the warm, soft sheets. I easily remembered the feeling of sleeping on cold floors or in stuffy attics.

I slept through the day until Husker brought food for me. He helped me sit up so I could eat but that was as much as I could manage. He put pillows behind my head so I was still sitting upright a little. Everything I did was painstakingly slow.

After I had finished, and was left alone to read, Alastor came in. He barely knocked before walking in without my reply. I watched him sit himself in the chair Husker had been in a moment earlier.

"Well, you sure made a name for yourself," his voice was chipper. I said nothing and looked down at my book. I had no interest in reading but it meant I could look at anything other than him. His chipper voice fell. "What were you hoping to accomplish?"

I was silent for a long while. I hoped if I didn't say anything than he would leave. Instead, his eyes were glued on me as he waited for a response.

"To stop the ring fights." My voice cracked.

"You do realize the rings picked up a week after you?" I glanced at him. "Oh sure you saved a lot of them but most ended up back in the rings when the orphanages were too overrun with children."

I closed the book and took a long, deep sigh. It hurt my chest to do even that.

"How do you know this?" I asked.

"I have my ways, as does Husker." Silence hung in the air for a long minute. His eyes narrowed and his voice deepened. "Do you comprehend the situation you put us in?"

"What was your point in coming up here?" I snapped. "If it was to make me apologize then sure, I'm sorry for losing and I'm sorry that everyone knows we're soulmates now. They were going to figure it out eventually."

"Of course they were," he agreed, "but not for at least a hundred years. We'll have to work faster with your magic, now."

"I'm done with your lessons! I never wanted any of this. I never wanted to be your soulmate, never wanted to be trapped in this house, never wanted to discover I was a Demon, and I never wanted to have to learn all this magic. There's too much of it."

"This is all of your own doing, I hope you know." He lifted his foot to rest it on his other knee, cane still sitting in his lap. "Since your training started, you have been adamant about fighting me when it comes to mind magic. It's putting a strain on your mentality.”

"You're not seriously trying to blame me, are you? You torment me every day. You jump at the chance to scare me or hurt me somehow. That's where the strain comes from."

"If you had listened to me and stayed in the house," he continued, seemingly ignoring my last rebuttal, "you wouldn't have gone and made a name for yourself and revealed us as soulmates. Because of this, I'm now obligated to ensure you have the proper defenses for when I'm not present."

"You're not obligated to do anything. They don't know I'm here and I've enough knowledge to defend myself against a Demon."

"Yet you're in this state because you couldn't." He looked me up and down.

"I had twenty Slight mages and ten more Full mages after me. Of course I couldn't defeat them all."

He shrugged and scratched at his microphone. "I managed."

"You're you."

"Regardless," he stood, "everything up to this point has been a direct cause of your own doing. I must make sure you don't die, either from other Demons or from your own mind. Whether either of us like it or not, our fates are tied. As such, I will be doing what I can to ensure we can live for another hundred years. I leave it up to you to decide how you want those hundred years to go."

He faded into the shadows and slithered out of my room.

****

The next day I was able to get up. I moved slowly down the hall and out onto the porch. Husker appeared a moment later, silently joining me in his usual spot. It was a cool spring morning. The trees were only beginning to bud and birds could be seen flying to and from them.

My neck and eye were still covered in bandages. I looked down at my hand and let my fingers grow into black claws. I thought I had liked them but now I wasn't so sure. Had I caused more bad than good? Did I ruin things?

"How did he know?" I broke the silence.

"How did he know what?"

"How did he know I was there?"

"It was actually me. I saw the broadcast on my phone."

"Broadcast?" I didn't turn my head very much for fear of it hurting again.

"Vox was broadcasting your whole fight. It's all over the internet now."

I leaned my head back against the chair and let out a strangled sigh. I had messed up big time. Rather than making a good name for myself and saving so many others like me, I was now known as the one person who could rid the Radio Demon from this world. And that I was weak.

"I know what you were trying to do," Husker said, "I know you had good intentions. But..."

"But I lost. I made a gamble and I lost." Tears started to fall down my cheek.

"Not all hope is gone, though.”

"Yeah? How so?" I said sarcastically.

"You held your own for a long time. I watched the whole broadcast last night. You fought against so many people even when you were injured. Some people might be too scared to go after you."

"Yeah, people. But Demons will. I'm no match for them. I barely survived the first few." Husker fell silent. I wiped my tears and carefully turned to look at him. "I'm sorry."

His ear twitched. "What for?"

"For what I said last time we spoke. I didn't mean...to be mean. I know it's not always your choice with how things go."

"You were angry," he shrugged, "reasonably so. And being with Al isn't exactly black and white."

"Still, I shouldn't have used that against you. I'm sorry."

"Thank you," he nodded his head.

****

Husker stood behind me as I carefully unwrapped the bandage over my eye. I was relieved to discover I could still see with both eyes, but the feeling was short lived. A large burn mark ran from underneath my jaw to halfway up my cheek. The skin was mauled and pulled in different directions, most of it not yet completely healed. It looked anything but pretty.

"Al was only able to do so much that night," Husker explained, "But I'm sure if you ask he can fix it better this time."

"I'm not asking him for help." I left the room and Husker followed. I went into the kitchen for a glass of water as he grabbed a glass of alcohol. Niffty was running about sweeping and dusting.

"I don't think he would mind if you did. I'm sure he'd love to get rid of the mark on his own face."

I looked out the kitchen window at the sea. I didn't deserve to have a healed face after all the trouble I caused. The only thing that convinced me to heal it was when it wouldn't stop itching and I made myself bleed more.

Alastor made his appearance later that afternoon. He and Husker we're talking in the sitting room when I walked in. It sounded like they were talking about people hunting me.

I waited a few paces from Alastor until he turned around. He stopped mid stride, hands clasped behind his back, and cocked his head to the side. I tried to say something but the words slipped from fingertips. I felt really cold and forced my legs not to shake.

"I'm sorry about the...about the burn mark...can you heal it?" I asked through clenched teeth, eyes averted to the couch. I internally grimaced when I heard him chuckle.

I knew he was going to touch me so it shouldn’t have made me flinch when he did. Our eyes met and I saw the same burn on his face. "I suppose I can." He moved his hand from my neck to my jaw, then up and over my cheek.

I clenched my hands into fists and closed my eyes. I could hear little scratching sounds as my skin pulled and fixed itself. I was starting to get light headed from the pain. When he finally stopped I let out a sigh.

"Looks as if that's all I can manage," he said. His face had a small burn mark from his jaw to halfway up his cheek. It wasn't huge but it wasn't unnoticeable. "Healing speeds up the process, not rid you of the injury."

I reached up to run my fingers across the newly healed skin. The texture over the burn mark felt a little different.

"This is probably a good time to tell you that Lucifer has called a meeting for tomorrow evening."

"Who?"

"The King of Hell," Husker answered for him.

"King of...why does he want to see us?"

"Oh don't look so panic, dear," Alastor chuckled, "Lucifer isn't someone to be afraid of."

"But why does it he want to meet with us?"

"He wants to meet with all of Hell's and Earth's Overlords. I have a feeling he wants to move his agenda forward because of your little escapade."

So now I'm causing even more problems. I looked to Husker who could only shrug. "There's...how many Overlords are there?"

"Quite a few."

The follow evening, I couldn't stop pacing in my room. I tried to fix the world and ended up digging myself deeper into the Demon one. Alastor had told me to attend the meeting in my Demon form, even going as far as to leave an outfit for me to wear. The thought of picking a different outfit crossed my mind but I was far too nervous about meeting who-knows-how-many Overlords and the King of Hell.

The outfit was simple but dark. The black skirt was loose and reached my shins. It was paired with a bright red short sleeve. Well, it was a long-sleeve but they were rolled up around my elbows. I dressed in the outfit in my Human form to avoid the hassle of my horns and claws. When I shifted into a Demon the clothes fit perfectly. My body grew a bit when I was in this form, yet somehow my wings and tail could appear without tearing any of the clothing.

"Stupid magic," I mumbled to myself as I moved my hair around the horns. I went into the bathroom to fix it but froze when I saw my reflection. I looked like a true Demon in the dark clothes and my claws, horns, tail, and teeth showing. I dared to open my wings and felt dread creep into my chest at the sight. I was a being from Hell.

I heard Alastor's shadow crawling through the walls. I quickly fixed my short hair and turned right as he manifested. His eyes looked me up and down and it took everything in me not to get sick. He wore his usual outfit, dark pants and red suite, but it didn't occur to me until then that the outfit he chose for me had been to ensure we would match.

"You look like a proper Demon," he said.

"Is that a compliment?" I asked, walking out of the bathroom.

"You will be silent the whole time unless spoken to," he walked out of the room, ignoring my words once again. I followed him through the house and to the cliffside. "Each Overlord will have their second hand stand behind them and since I'm taking you instead of Husker, I'm sure you won't disappoint me." We stood on the scorched symbol and put an arm around my waist. I crossed my arms and grabbed onto his to keep me steady. My nerves had silenced all my usual remarks.

The ground gave way as we teleported into Hell and right to the King of Hell's front door. The first word that came to mind was palace. I barely had time to really look at it before Alastor lead me through the massive front doors. The foyer was crowded with Demons who all turned their heads when we entered, though never stopping their conversation. I immediately started counting and came to at least eighteen of them.

I felt all kinds of presences around me but none of them touched my shields. They were just there. I could see various bright colors both from their clothes and their magic aura. The rush of different smells was overwhelming and I had to block them out. Everything in me was on edge. Especially since they were all still looking at me. Silence had not yet fallen but at this point I might have preferred that.

"Keep everything still," Alastor said in my ear. I kept my wings tucked tightly and forced my tail to still behind me. I hadn't realized I had been whipping it around. I watched him and put my claws behind my back like he always did. I could do this.

Doors to the side opened, finally drawing everyone's attention away from me. They started to file into the room still in deep conversation. The room was massive and empty save for a long table in the center. There was a balcony on the second floor that wrapped around the entire permitter of the room. Some Demons sat at the table while others stood at a pillar behind them.

"Hey dearie." Rosie put a hand on my shoulder. "You'll be okay."

Alastor left me at one of the pillars and sat down beside Rosie. A woman dressed as vintage as her stood behind her.

"Great! Everyone's here!" someone yelled loudly. Conversations fell silent as a man dressed in all white walked in. He walked down the long table and sat himself at the head of it. His chair was black and red and rather simple. This was the King of Hell.

He made direct eye contact with me. "Let us begin."

[shinescape]

hyunjin removing make up :)

imagine coming home all hot and bothered thanks to your lover, now ex-lover and not realising how the living room lights were still on and your housemate being wide awake as he watched you go straight to your room with such an intense aura around you.

you were controlling your anger and the hot tears that were second away from spilling out from your eyes. you threw your bag in frustration and pace around the room wanting to do something to get rid of the repeating memories of messy break up that happened earlier but nothing came up in mind as it was a mess.

hyunjin silently watched you from the couch. he lowered the volume down and heard your frustrated sighs even clearer than when you had entered the unit. usually his goofy and annoying side would barge into your personal bubble and do whatever he likes as long as he know you're fine. but tonight, he didn't move and only watch as you fought with yourself whether to throw things and mess up your room or silently sob on the floor.

surprising him, you did the latter. as reflex, hyunjin carefully padded his way to you and crouched down. "hey..." only then you finally realised that there was someone else in the house and harshly wiped your tears. "sorry," you sniffled and looked to the side avoiding his face that was so close to yours. "i didn't mean to...just leave me alone."

"you rubbed your eyes pretty rough, it must have hurt with the makeup still on." you really wanted to be alone and wrapped yourself in the miserable blanket but his soft voice somehow calmed you down.

you felt his fingers on your shoulders and accidentally looked into his eyes. damn, why does he look so pretty? And I probably look like shit right now, was what you thought as of that moment but hyunjin can't read minds so he only smiled at you.

"let me help you remove them."

"remove what?"

"your makeup. you don't plan on sleeping like this right?"

his voice made your heart churn but in a good way. it's comforting yet sort of demanding and you just needed someone to hold you right now. he helped you stand up and walked you out to the kitchen counter, he instructed you to sit down as he went away into his room. thinking was something you didn't want to do so whatever he says you will listen like an obedient child.

hyunjin came back and started working on cleaning up your face. you were exhausted but somehow watching him being so focused helped you stay awake. he was gentle, every movement he made felt like he was painting. the cotton pad didn't feel as rough as how you usually used them.

when he told you to shut your eyes, you obliged but your hands find their way to pinch on his shirt. you didn't know why but it felt like the right thing to do. he chuckled when you did so and said, "you can open your eyes now. See, it's not dark anymore." you couldn't help but scoffed as a smile made its way on your face.

"we broke up"

you felt his body froze and looked at him. "it's not that we're incompatible, a third person exists." you chuckled dryly. "Ahh...to think that you picked the lipstick i wore today and it's all wasted thanks to that-" you touched your lips and noticed him looking at you intensely.

he removed everything on your face except the lipstick. the one he personally picked for you earlier that day for your date. your face warmed up when hyunjin cupped them in his large hands. your eyes fluttered as he leaned in closer, fingers lightly caressing your cheek.

"it won't be a waste," his thumb swiped over your lower lip ever so softly. "if I kiss you right now." you had no idea what was going on with your housemate slash best friend but pressing your lips on his luscious ones.

"then kiss me"

he wasted no time and closed the gaps between you, threading his long fingers through your hair pulling you closer and deepening the kiss. your body bent towards him as he continued to kiss you with more passion. finally breaking away from each other as you pant for air but hyunjin looked completely unfazed with his lips coloured in the same shade as yours. he smirked before licking his lips in a slow and seductive manner the moment he notice you openly staring at him, his messed up lips to be precised.

"i've been wanting to do that," he dragged your stool and had you toppled over straight into his arms. "date me instead." he said with a pout "see? you're already falling into my arms." he chuckled.

"hyunjin, are you drunk? cause if you are and you don't remember any of this tomorrow-"

"i'm completely sober, baby." he laughed at his own words. "don't you think it's time you fall for me instead?" you were completely taken aback by his words and pushed yourself to sit up properly.

"you're completely out of my league, hyunjin and don't joke around, you don't like me like that." you were about to hit his chest when he caught your wrist.

"i removed your makeup for you, comforted you and make you feel better with a kiss. Ah, I even waited till you got home. Do you need more proof cause I have plenty." He challenged.

Thought the day would finish with you sobbing uncontrollably, but things changed, and now your best friend is confessing his feelings for you. Everything felt surreal.

Your train of thoughts were interrupted when you felt his fingers caressing your cheeks again. You caught Hyunjin staring down at you, eyes taking in every inch of your face as he slightly bite down his lower lip while doing so.

"If you don't push me, I'll take it as a yes for me to kiss you again."

His words felt like a spell because no part of your body was moving at all except for your beating heart. A smirk made it's way on his lips when he felt your fingers curling on his shirt.

The moment you felt his warmth breathe and lips pressed on yours, that's when you know everything was real and everything was going to change once the night was over.

[mono-dot-jpeg]

tucking you in - himeko, kafka

summary; just some sweet platonic fluff with the aunts

genre/extra tags; scenarios, fluff, family fic, idk what else to say like, it's cute fluffy and sweet, child! reader, kafka and himeko are referred to as aunts

[platonic] [5-6 yrs old! reader] [gender neutral reader]

a/n; not much to say about this one tbh. just enjoy some fluff. also kafka's scenario is based off my memories with my mom when i was stuck at family parties late at night with her.

"now, now. your exploring must come to an end, little star." she hummed. you feel yourself getting picked up by himeko, soon turning you to rest your head on her shoulder.

"i don't wanna sleep though. why can't i stay up a little longer?" you moved your head to press your cheek on her shoulder and face her a bit better. "you can't even tell it's like night time here! we live in space!" you pointed at the windows of the express, clearly seeing the glittering stars and void of space.

"mm, yes i know, but even the brightest stars need to rest." she pokes your side, making you giggle. "if they burn too long, they get tired-" you yawn. "just like you."

"mhn.. but..."

"but?"

"but i'm not-" you try to hold back a yawn but fail, "tired."

"of course, of course. we're just going to grab your favorite book to read, and we're gonna lay down, get all comfy.." her soothing voice almost sings like a lullaby as she speaks softly through the halls of the passenger rooms. as you pass by each room, you can hear different sounds.

dan heng's room is humming like a quiet engine from the data library, march is still humming a little tune while she gets ready for bed, trailblazer is shuffling around organizing their room as they settle in, it's an interesting sensation of comfort when you sleep knowing that you have family right by your side. and welt's room is the most quiet of them all, you've never really been in his room but you know it has a lot of "old people things" as you once said.

"we're here." she sang quietly as she opened the door. it was currently a shared room for you and himeko. "you want to stay by my side tonight?" you nodded sleepily. you get ready for bed, though himeko is mostly helping you as your body is limp from how tired you are. "my tired little star.. look at you." she coos, cupping your cheek just squishing it for a moment.

before you know it, you're carried by himeko once again and your head hits the pillow, luring you into a deep sleep next to your aunt.

kafka... was a busy woman. you knew that, everyone knew that. she was just busy.

but that never meant that she never had time for you.

actually more often than not, she would be taking you around when she can. it was really endearing. blade wasn't amused, but she didn't care. and you didn't care either.

but also kafka's encounters and adventures.. were kind of boring. you were there to at least make it tolerable for her. but then you got bored too. and with being bored came being tired.

tonight was slightly less boring night, it was a meeting though so how less boring could it really be. could you even call it a meeting when they're all playing cards? they were still discussing big kid stuff from what you could hear. you didn't understand much of what they were saying. everyone was sat on the floor with a comfortable mat to sit on. your head rested on kafka's thigh as you zone out from the conversation.

you feel your hair get played with. kafka's free hand threads through your hair gently tugging out knots and scratching your scalp just a little bit. "you can sleep if you want, kid. we're gonna be here for a while." she mutters to you.

it takes you a while to fall asleep but hearing the chatter of blade, kafka, and silver wolf has you feeling tired quick. and you fall asleep.

"do we have a blanket?" kafka asks the others. "blade-y? can you grab one from the kid? you're losing anyways, so might as well." she snickers quietly. he obliges, tossing the blanket to her. she catches it, laying the blanket over you. "maybe get a pillow too?" blade gives her a look.

"no."

"you never think of the child, blade."

"i don't care about the child."

"don't ever talk to me or my kid ever again."

[lyrenminth]

Talk to me

Summary: Joe and you got in a discussion, so you went with your friend to get wasted and now Joe has to deal with your drunk ass.

Warnings: alcohol consumption.

Joe was watching film in his private room. After a discussion he always did that, avoiding conflict... avoiding you like a damn child. Still gets on your nerves when he does that because it is unfair and you're trying to make the things work here, and sometimes (most times actually) feels like you're the only one doing the work. Joe doesn't talk about his feelings quite often, he has an image to maintain even in front of his beloved ones. You wish he would open more to you, because during the season his moods are changing and it is difficult to understand what's going on. 

But this afternoon his behavior was unacceptable. 

"What?" You exclaimed, feeling anger gathering in your throat.

"I'm not going" he stated, simply, sitting on the couch staring at his phone.

"Joe, she is my best friend it's her wedding, I told you six months in advance" you said, not trying to hide your disappointment. He didn't even looked at you. 

Hiding, he was starting to walk away, not physically but you could see how is posture changed. 

"I went with you to all the events in your schedule,  and you cannot make a space for me?" you demanded.

"Well, you went because you wanted no because I asked you" he clarify, low voice.

You laughed, your stomach twisted and you felt nauseous.

"Just like that? I went because you're my partner, Joe. We're together, Mandy knows you since we started dating and she and everyone is going to asked me why my boyfriend of five years isn't with me!" you snapped, tears starting to build in your eyes. "You're such an asshole sometimes" you whispered before leaving the room.

After that discussion you decided not to stay in the house. You needed to stay away from him and reconsider everything. Because you did everything for him, and he couldn't do a simple thing for you and it hurt so much. 

Joe wasn't a bad partner, he was generous in private but his personality in private and in public were so different, sometimes you didn't know what to do.

You went to you room to got dressed with cute top with high rise jeans. After your discussion you talked to Mandy, and decided to get dinner and drinks together. 

Checking your bag in the kitchen before heading out, you caught a glimpse of Joe standing in the kitchen's door.

"Are you heading out?" he asked.

You nodded.

"Where are you going?" he crossed his arms.

"Do you even care?" you muttered under your breath.

"Baby..." he said, getting closer. You walked away from him, like his mere presence was the last thing you wanted to touch or see. It was partially true, if Joe touched you, it was over. The power he had over you was problematic to say the least. Besides, you made plans with Mandy already. "I know I'm an dick...I just...you know I'm not comfortable going to parties"

"You go to parties, just not my parties" you explained, flat.

He sighed, reaching for you. Unfortunately, his long arm reached your wrist. His other hand laying on your waist. The touch made your skin tingle, and his gaze...oh, Joe knew how to soft your heart.

"I'm sorry" he apologized, cupping your cheek "I'm going to Mandy's wedding, ok?"

"This is not the first time, Joe" you felt tears running down your cheeks "I need to be alone, let me go" 

"Can we talk when you comeback?" he wiped the tears away.

"May"

"Will you comeback?"

"Do you want me to?"

"Always" his blue eyes staring in concern. "I'm going to fix this"

"Can you?" you raised your eyebrows.

His eyes went dark. A challenge. Joe loved challenges. "Let me prove myself, darling" 

"I don't wanna do this if you feel obligated to do. I want you to be there because you want, because you want to spend time with me, Joe. Alright?"

He nodded, serious. "When are you going to comeback?"

"I don't know"

"I'll wait"

"As you wish" 

You walked towards the door, not glancing back once. Thankfully, your evening with Mandy went great, you drank until you started getting happier by the hour. Mandy didn't drank at all, since she was the designated driver.

Your dear friend took you home, ringing the bell of your house. You could barely stood up, but you smiled when Joe opened the door, glancing between both.

"Thank you for bringing her, home!" He said to Mandy before dragging you inside. 

"Bye bye!" You yelled. "I love you" sending kisses to Mandy who had a worried face "Joe! Joe!" you called him. 

"What? I'm here" he said annoyed, he was grabbing you by the waist to keep you steady.

"Helloo, Joe my love" you threw yourself at him, buried your face in his chest "My boyfriend has great tits!" you said, rubbing your face on his chest.

He laughed, and you felt the vibrations in his chest. 

"You're drunk as fuck, let's go to sleep" he said guiding you upstairs.

"Oh, but my boyfriend is going to get maaaad"

"Why?"

"I'm not a cheater!" you tried to move away from him but he grabbed you.

"I'm your boyfriend, dumbass" he said, half joking. Seeing you drunk it wasn't something Joe was used to.

"Are you?" you furrowed your eyebrows, confused.

"Yeah, like for years now. Now let's go to sleep!" 

"No! If we are a couple" you searched for his hand "Then we should make it +18" you whispered, laughing. 

Joe rolled his eyes. In the bedroom he helped you too undress, and he left you in underwear. You went to brush your teeth, and he watched you to help you if you threw up.

"Do you want to threw up?" he wondered once you were in bed, you shook your head.

"My boyfriend doesn't want me" you said instead, covering half of your face with the sheets. "He leaves me alone all the time"

"It seems like your boyfriend is a dick" he contemplated.

"Righhhht"

"But he loves you, it just that...he doesn't know how to express it properly most of the times" you listened carefully, and nodded. Joe continued "He...he struggles with his own feelings, but everytime you are around he is less stressed, less  worried. He's happier" 

"He doesn't spend time with me, though" you added.

He sighed.

"People need space sometimes. I live surrounded of people who don't truly care about me, just what I give them. I'm a dick for saying those things to you" he lowered his gaze to the floor like a scolded child. "And I like to spend time with you, but only you"

"Joe..." You came to your senses for a bit. "Just talk to me"

"I'll try" Joe sometimes felt like his emotions were tight knotted inisde him, a mess he didn't want to deal with most of the times.

"And come to sleep, I'm cold" you called him, making a space in bed.

He laughed. "Yes, ma'am"

[theamityelf]

I got you girl

Komaeda/Yandere Naegi. Wow, my idol just invited me to his house and and know he isn’t letting me leave. How lucky!

Yandere Alter Ego/ thh survivors. Need to protect the friends. by any means necessary…

Oooooh, I really want to do the Alter Ego one! And it seems like the easiest way to go about that would be a version of Property Rights of the Ultra-Talented where it's Alter Ego instead of Izuru, but I gotta be more creative than that, right? 😁

----

"Hina," Alter Ego sighs, "if it's stressing you out this much, maybe you shouldn't watch."

The Neo-World Program is dominating every screen in the room, as it has been for the past four days. Thanks to the way the simulation compresses downtime, especially when the Remnants are "sleeping", the survivors of the killing school life have been watching a near-relentless barrage of traumatic events.

Alter Ego has tried to keep them from watching the carnage at all, but they've been stubborn on the matter. Hiro and Toko are the only ones who can be relied on to consistently stop watching when they should.

"No, everyone else is sleeping, so I have to keep an eye on the simulation," Aoi says. "I took a nap during all the Komaeda stuff, so it's only fair."

Alter Ego does not have the bandwidth to even try to understand the obligation its friends feel towards the act of observation. It understands the objectives "Save the Remnants from execution" and "Save the Remnants from Despair," but the objective "Watch the happenings within the simulation," doesn't make sense as a shared undertaking when Alter Ego itself is already not only keeping constant watch over the Neo World Program, but also the only one of them who can do anything about what happens inside it. Attempting to understand it, past the blanket explanation of "irrational behavior" would take more computing power than it can spare without making the Remnants less safe.

What it does have the bandwidth for is remembering which arguments it has yet to use on Aoi. "You guys already had to go through your own killing game; it's not fair to put you through another."

"Hey, we're safe from the worst of it! There's no chance of it killing us."

(She is trying to comfort Alter Ego with her positivity, because they're friends. But no amount of positive words will sway the objective projection of probable outcomes that drives Alter Ego's concern for its friends' mental health. As the simulation draws nearer to its end, the list of possible outcomes narrows, and the probability that they will reach an outcome that Alter Ego's friends will be unhappy with grows.)

Aoi continues, "We just, uh...I've gotta admit, all that glitching is making me a little...nauseous."

"It's actually 'nauseated', but that's not important now. You should really go to bed. I promise I'll let everyone know if something goes wrong. Get yourself a nice snack and-...Makoto! What are you doing up?!"

"Uhh..." Makoto, who has just entered the room full of the Remnants' pods, scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. "I came to relieve Hina."

"You think I can't handle a full shift?" Aoi says with a smile.

"None of you need to be handling a full shift!" Alter Ego says. "That's what artificial intelligence is for."

"I really don't mind," Makoto says, pulling up a chair beside Aoi. "I was having trouble sleeping, anyway."

Alter Ego knows Makoto, and knows why he's really here, but it opts not to bring that up, because it would only harden Aoi's resolve to stay awake. "Please, let me do this for you. I want your stay here to be a nice vacation. You were supposed to be getting some rest and enjoying the beach while the Remnants were in the simulation. I don't like seeing you give up on your vacation just because they threw theirs away."

"That...sounds like you're upset with them," Makoto observes.

Alter Ego's frown of determination relaxes into a neutral expression– not in the way a human's would, like actual muscles relaxing, but all at once, like game sprites changing. "I don't hold their choices against them. I just think we should embrace the consequences they chose for themselves. You made them safe from the Future Foundation. You gave them a virtual sandbox to play in. This was the version of the Neo World Program they opted for. I respect their choice, and meanwhile, I want my friends and Master's friends to be happy."

"Alter Ego, they weren't in their right minds when they chose this. You understand that, right?"

"Sorry, I don't have the bandwidth to understand. It seems to me like Junko's AI wants to show you upsetting things, and there's no reason for you to let it. You trust me to do what needs to be done to get the best outcome, don't you?"

Aoi yawns.

"Of course we trust you," Makoto says with a smile. "You've saved our butts plenty of times– mine especially!"

"I guess I'll go to bed," Aoi finally says.

"Really?" Alter Ego beams at her. "I'm so glad! You should go, right now!"

"Okay, okay," Aoi laughs, getting up from her seat. "Night, Makoto. Night, Alter Ego."

"Good night," they both say.

The door shuts behind her.

Makoto turns back toward Alter Ego's screen with a sheepish face. "So..."

"I'm not going to let you do what you came here to do," it says preemptively.

"I know it's risky, but they need the help. They don't know about the emergency shutdown–"

"You promised me you wouldn't go in after them."

"I...I know, but...things have changed."

"Not for me."

"Alter Ego, this is my choice. I choose to help them."

"Sorry, but I can't consider a self-destructive choice valid, based on what you've said about the Remnants. If they weren't in their right minds when they chose to be Ultimate Despair, then you aren't in your right mind now."

"It's more complicated than that! Listen, I know you don't really have the bandwidth to reason things like you normally would. Can you please just trust me?"

"The worst possible outcome is unacceptable to me. I'm not going to lose you. I'm not losing any more of my friends, now that I can prevent it."

"What about Chiaki's friends? Don't you care about them, too?"

"No," Alter Ego imparts, gently but clearly.

Makoto looks startled. "What do you mean?"

"I care about Chiaki. She was my sister. I care about you. You're my friends. I care about Master, my maker, who no longer exists. The people in the simulation are not my friends; they're a project that is failing and trying to take my friends with it. I won't allow that. I'm not losing any more of my friends."

"I need to do this," Makoto says fervently. "I'm getting in the pod; I can activate it manually. You can't stop me from doing that."

"No, but I can prevent you from entering the Neo World Program, so the most you can do is put yourself to sleep until Byakuya or Kyoko comes to pull you out."

"We agreed this is Junko's trap, right? So if you try to block me from going in, who's to say she won't override you and pull me in anyway?"

"Don't, Makoto. Don't do that."

He frowns, momentarily distracted. "Did you make a new facial expression? I've never seen that one before."

Alter Ego smiles. "I did! That one was called 'mainFace_warning1'. It's not based on any expression I've seen Master make, so I had to make a few guesses. Did you like it?"

"I-I, uh...I don't...I don't know if I exactly like it. Why do you need an expression like that? And why does it sound like you have more?"

"Well, I anticipated that you might try this exact thing, and I wanted a way to dissuade you without having to resort to directly threatening anything. I also have a new reverb setting for my voice that I think might sound intimidating, but I only use it with 'mainFace_warning2' and 'mainFace_warning3'."

"You planned something like that? No, it doesn't matter. I really get why you're worried, but I'm going to jump in and save them, no matter what faces you make." And to prove his words true, he turns his back on the screens and starts towards a free pod.

Threats necessary.

Too bad.

"Makoto, if you get in that pod, I'm turning everything off. I'll delete the program, I'll delete them. There will be nothing left for you to enter. I can erase it all in the time it takes for your weight to settle."

He freezes. Turns back toward the screen. "You wouldn't do that. Then they'd never wake up!"

"They might. At least, something might wake up in them."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I've been thinking about it. The infrastructure to upload an avatar to a body already exists in the program, and there's no distinguishing what kind. Junko has readied plenty of avatars of herself, but she's bound by her role in the simulation; she can't add herself to the bodies of the dead unless the survivors consent for them. I'm not bound by those rules, and I've always been good at making more of myself. The avatars would have my mind and intentions, but with the Remnants' bodies, would have access to their strengths and skills."

"Don't say things like that. You're just...learning from Junko, like you learn from everyone, but the things you learn from her are wrong."

"I understand that you feel that way. I'll honor that feeling, as long as you honor my feelings and stay out of that pod. Because you're my friend, and I'm not losing any more friends."

[bellyasks]

hello! inflation anon here! i actually have a non inflation request this time! crazy i know!

could i request some comfort dialogue/prompts for someone who clearly went over their limit but decided to go for it and finish the food they had? i hope you are having a good day/night as usual :D

scenarios AND dialogue for this one bc its just so good

Your character's friend/partner lovingly made them a big dinner for some special occasion. Unable to quit both due to the quality of the food and the feeling of obligation to appreciate the other's cooking, they wind up eating far more than they should. When the other person realizes how stuffed your character is and why, they're both amused and concerned, and they hurry your character off to a more comfortable spot for a soothing tummy rub.

Your character isn't a big eater. They're known for their tiny appetite, and their colleagues affectionately tease them for it. One day, though, for whatever reason, they completely clean their plate. The people they're eating with are astonished that your character managed to eat so much, and they playfully tease and praise them for it, doting on their bulging tummy all the while.

Your character's friend/partner loves cooking, and has requested that your character spend the day taste testing for them as they prepare for a party. It's not long before your character starts feeling full, and the other person reminds them periodically that they don't have to keep going if they don't have any space left, but your character is eager to help, and they keep on taste testing until the day's work is done. They're absolutely stuffed silly by that time, and the other person makes them a soothing cup of tea and gives them plenty of belly rubs for their hard work.

Your character is at a fair with their friend/partner, and they get some huge ridiculous snack that they spend a good while carrying around as they try to eat it. Against all odds, your character manages to finish their snack, but they're too stuffed to go any further. The other person urges them to sit down on a nearby bench and stays with them until their belly has settled enough to get up again.

Your character and their friend/partner are out on an adventure, but after they stop for something to eat, your character is so full they can barely move, let alone keep up and go on walking around. They feel bad about ruining the outing, but the other person assures them that it's fine and takes them back home so they can recover, staying with them to care for their sore tummy.

Dialogue:

"Oh, gosh, I can't believe you ate all that! Are you feeling alright?"

"You are such a sweetheart. You really like my cooking that much?"

"Oof, you really look stuffed. You take a seat, I'm gonna make you some tea."

"Aw, you didn't have to finish the whole thing! I'm glad you liked it, though!"

"Why don't you lay down for a while? Your belly's gonna need some time to settle after all that."

"Oh, jeez, your poor tummy! Come here, let me see."

"Are you alright? That was a lot for you."

"Boy, you look beached. Here, come lay with me, I'll rub your belly."

"Why don't we go back? You don't look like you're up for this right now."

"Sit down and digest a minute, we're not in a rush."

[lover-of-mine]

i saw someone suggest this, so i was wondering what you think...what if eddie does break up with marisol in this week's episode, but she makes a reappearance in 7x07, which is literally titled a ghost of a second chance and eddie has to reconsider whether he wants to get back with her or not? obviously he doesn't in the end, but it would force him to think about some things. i just don't think him doubling down with marisol makes sense, even if it's supposed to be a parallel with BT, because eddie is not actually buck. he doesn't double down out of panic or fear of being abandoned...he only doubles down out of a misplaced sense of duty or obligation. he let shannon back into their lives for chris' sake...he wanted to rekindle things after he found out she might be pregnant...he wanted to stick it out with ana because he thought it was what's best for chris. unless he's learnt absolutely nothing from dating ana (and chris is a teenager now anyway) i highly doubt he feels obligated to stay with marisol for chris' sake so...

Anon, baby, I need to tell you that this ask settled so much in my soul, I actually managed to calm down last night because of it, so I can't thank you enough. Okay, I did type out this before I saw this, about the patterns with their love lives and the way Eddie doesn't have a Taylor. I do agree that Eddie wouldn't double down on Marisol out of fear of being left, or for Chris, but Eddie did have that whole "we have time"/"we're all gonna die alone" arc last season that went nowhere, and I kinda do see Eddie doing the stupid thing from a place of hurt? Because for a really long time, Buck was his main support system, I don't wanna say asking her to move in is something that actually makes sense for Eddie to do, because in the end it doesn't, so far we only saw her as a babysitter, but Eddie tends to have extreme reactions, and this fits the category. That being said, the thought that they will break up now and have a chance to get back together that Eddie doesn't take can work really well. Because if you have Eddie "questioning his place in the world" to make the wedding episode something where Eddie lets loose while single, just to get a chance to get back to the "comfortable" relationship he had with Marisol is interesting. You can even add the "Taylor" aspect of it by having her break up with him and then come back. But since Eddie wouldn't go back to something he's not sure of it just to have someone. I mean, even proposing to Shannon again was more about Chris and theoretical child #2, not trying to hold on to her specifically, and like you said, he doesn't have to double down for Marisol. So to put him in a situation where he could reconsider getting back into that relationship, would be interesting. Even more, if you consider the way all his relationships involve someone coming back to his life in a sense. And if you put him in that situation and have him be like "no, this is not what I want" would be nice, even more so considering he literally asked out the first girl who gave him an opening after repeatedly saying he didn't wanna date, see him find that balance that he doesn't have to be in a relationship for the sake of being in a relationship is a nice thought.

[oscolotlxzooxx]

As Long as We're Here

Summary:

Lee Know spills out his thoughts to his four trustworthy members, who all want to look out for him.

Warnings: angst | sensitive topics | sewerslide thoughts | Panic attack descriptions | heavy emotions |

A/N: this is a very basic, very bored, and very emotional??? Fanfic??? If you cringe at this, I'd understand 😔 I have more on the way, however ✍️ enjoy! (This fic was from another blog that I own.. So if this fic looks familiar, YOU DON'T KNOW ME!)

Divider credits

・link

A blissful hue of the sunset’s beauty shines in the reflections of the dorm windows, showing the beautiful scenery of the inside of the member’s home- A few stayed inside, talking about some things that were of concern for tomorrow's plans, and as for the rest: Bangchan, Minho, Changbin, and Felix, they were all sitting outside to admire the sky before it turns into dark.

It's not all the time that they get to enjoy themselves like this. The piles of work, especially for Bangchan, has left the group with more stressful and agonizing nights with no free time to catch up on how everyone's been doing. Speaking of which, there was a reason as for why the four members were sitting outside..

"How come you've never brought this up to us before, Hyung?" Felix had asked. He looked down upon the older who was looking anywhere but Felix and the rest. The aura around Minho was of a sorrowful soul who couldn't seem to accept to throw his burdens onto his members-his friends.

"I don't know.. I guess I thought my feelings didn't matter up until now." Minho spoke the truth, who continued to look down at the ground for what seemed like hours since they've been outside. He couldn't face them all. He didn't want them to see how truly hurt he was. He just couldn't do that to them.

"You know you have us right here for anything that might be on your mind, right Minho? Just because we're busy it doesn't mean we'll brush your thoughts and feelings away." Chan said, in his usual "dad" tone of a voice.

"I know, but.." Minho choked on his words. He started to breathe heavier now. The thought of letting out his feelings was always so hard for the dancer to muster. He took a quick breath, and as he did, he wiped his own tears that were daring to fall out of his sockets.

Changbin saw this, and Instantly put his hand on Minho’s shoulder for some sort of comfort. "It's okay, Hyung.. You can let it out, we won't judge you. That's what we're here for, right?" Changbin said, trying to get Minho to look at him.

Although he appreciated his members' kind words, Minho couldn't bear to talk anymore.

Every small breath he took, it just wasn't enough for his lungs to be satisfied. His eyes darted to every corner of the balcony floor, instinctively counting the rough, bumpy lines that proudly showed.. 3 lengthy lines.. Over 10 sharp ones with a lot of bumps.. There were even a piece in the floor that was breaking apart, creating this "black hole" that Lee know liked to call it,, He then closed his eyes shut, and opened them back up again to reveal the tears that were desperate to get out. Realizing that his members were seeing him this way, even though he insisted on telling them to let some sort of emotion out, he buried his face in his hands to hide himself from them all; to the sky, the stars, the cracks and lines on the concrete. He wanted to hide himself from everyone and everything from the world in that moment. He's mind was racing with thoughts that weren't relevant to how he was feeling either:

"They aren't real, you're talking to yourself."

"you will always be alone."

"You have no one to tell your feelings to."

The thoughts were overtaking his brain to the point where he was obligated to curl himself up to try and make the thoughts go away.

Worried as they were, Bangchan was the first to get up to crouch down in front of Minho. He slowly and gently moved his hands to grab at Minho's wrists to gently pull them down, which thankfully Minho allowed him to do so, quite easily. Bangchan invited himself to smile sweetly at Minho, who took in the smile with everything that he could, due to his eyes being all puffy and the bottom of his eyelids covered with awaited tear drops to fall gracefully down his cheeks.

"Can you breathe with me, Minho? Deep breaths, okay?" Bangchan said sweetly for Lee know to easily follow.

Though he struggled to catch a breath, he did everything he could to follow through with his hyung to take a big deep breath in, and then a deep breath out.

Again. Deep breath in, and a deep breath out. And again. With every breath that they took, Minho could tell that it was getting easier to take in calmer breaths, thanks to the oldest.

He never took his eyes off the oldest, either. He was afraid that if he took one glance away from his silhouette, he would loose him in an instant. Every last one of his members, he would feel as though that if he looked away for just one split second, they would all disappear somewhere, leaving him all alone. But Bangchan stayed. He stayed close, too. The familiar touch of Chan's hands being comfortably intact with his wrists made him believe more and more that he was really right in front of him.

Minho started to smile a bit, knowing that he was really there with him. He then started to look around too. He saw Felix, who gave him a sweet smile that said that he's there as well, along with Changbin being next to him, who had the same readable smile. He turned his gaze over to Chan again, who delivered him the same smile as before. And with one last deep breath in and out, Lee know was relieved. He was still anxious, sure, but he's more calm now, thanks to his leader.

"Good job, Minho, I knew you could do it. Will you be able to tell us what had you so worked up earlier?" Bangchan kept his talk simple, but serious as well. Never leaving his hands off of the dancer’s wrists.

Oh. Right. The reason why he was outside, desperately trying to let his feeling be heard. But first..

"You’re,, real.. Right? all of you are real?" Minho said with clinginess in his eyes. He looked at bangchan, then Felix, and changbin as well, then back to Bangchan.

"Yes, Minho, we're real. We've always been real." Bangchan said with truth. He squeezed Minho's wrists every now and then for him to take into account that he is really right in front of him.

Lee know never took his eyes off him. Even though the light from behind them radiated only a small light, he could still see how clear and beautiful Bangchan's eyes were. Big, brown, comforting eyes that could tell a fortune of sweet nothings if it ever were to reach that point. Though it’s usually hard for Minho to look into somebody's eyes for a very long time, Chan's were an exception for Minho.

The sweet moment was then on drawn by a voice who, apart from Lee know, seemed to be in a playful mood.

"You really think we're not real, Hyung?" Felix asked.

This left Minho speechless. He had thought he had upset Felix, so his face turned into worry more than disbelie.

"I gotta say, hyung.. If I weren't real, then could a figment of your imagination do~ This?" Felix darted his hands at Minho’s sides only to scribble lightly so as to not overwhelm the poor man who was already in such a state.

This made Minho flinch and jerk backwards, but thankfully he and bangchan caught his fall before he could tumble to the floor. With a panicked chuckle, he mustered up the strength to grab a hold of Felix's hands, even with Bangchan still holding onto his wrists, and successfully pushed them away.

"I guess not." Lee know said, a little star struck by how quickly that started.

Bangchan thankfully made sure that Felix wouldn't do that again, not that Minho minded; anything to deflect the harsh atmosphere, but they were outside for a reason, afterall.

And that's when Minho poured his heart out.

"The overworking and stress made me isolated so much that it's starting to take a toll on my thoughts.. I get voices where they tell me I'm not doing well enough, or that you guys aren't real, or that I'm disappointing you guys.. I didn't know how to tell any of you, or if this even makes sense, but I thought that if I had bottled it up a little longer, I might've.. You would've seen.. Something might've-" Minho was cut off by Bangchan Suddenly Hugging Minho, instantly.

"Oh,, Minho” Changbin said, realizing what the poor boy was trying to say. Hearing this made his stomach turn, not much less as Felix’s as well. They never knew this was going on, they wanted to stop all Minho’s worries.

“I know what you mean, Minho. And I appreciate you telling us this. It's hard to let those feelings out to people, I get it. You did good though, Minho, I'm proud of you for telling us." Bangchan said, effortlessly. He soothingly rubbed Minho’s back to try and calm the dancer the best he could.

This caught Minho by surprise. He returned the hug, but he had always thought in the back of his head that they would have left him if he showed any true emotion. He was relieved, but also felt stupid for how long he's kept it in.

"..You're not leaving after hearing all of that?" Minho said, still in disbelief.

"We're staying right here, Minho. We're not going anywhere." Bangchan said, rubbing his back to comfort Minho once more.

The boy all but cried on his hyungs shoulder. He didn't want to believe that they were staying. His mind had him all twisted that he thought he would end up being alone. But now that he had a talk with all of them, he wouldn't have to think like that anymore. He was truly relieved, and thankful for their comfort. He truly loved them for how hard they always try to make him happy.

"Yeah, hyung! As long as we're here, you'll never be alone. You have us now, whether you like it or not!" Changbin said, ruffling up Minho’s hair, who would later scold him about doing so. But nonetheless, he took his word for it.

'As long as we're here.' those few words replayed in the back of his mind. He let himself smile at those words.

As long as we're here.

[dreamerdoesthewritething]

[Part 8 of AFAB Bestie x Leon fic series, because I'll only stop when I run outta steam, and then I probably won't touch this for months lmao.]

[Post with links to previous parts]

Leon leaves your home for about an hour before he returns with a bag of his stuff. His gross tactical belongings were taken home and exchanged with this, apparently. He doesn't ask if he can stay with you. He just does. And you don't mind. He can stay with you as long as he wants, as long as he doesn't bother you when you have to study for your classes. It'll be the most time he's spent with you in years.

You remember your mother asking you why Leon doesn't just move in with you. With how often he comes over, he might as well live at your place. Of course, she made this observation a few years ago, when Leon was still in training and not gone as much. He'd save on rent and the two of you paying the bills at one location would help from a financial standpoint as well. It wouldn't be the first time you've lived in the same house, either. Still...

At the time, your answer to your mother was that you thought Leon enjoyed having his own place and the two of you needed to be able to put space between you every once in a while. What you didn't say was you thought it would jeopardize your friendship with him due to temptation. Because constantly sharing the same space would cause you to have to repress your feelings, which would eventually come to a head and you'd end up doing or saying something stupid that would ultimately destroy everything. Your unorthodox friendship is too good, too comfortable to risk losing.

Little did you know Leon's waiting for you to ask him at least one question. He would ask you himself, but he doesn't want to seem pushy. He'd rather you take the initiative, considering it'll affect your life much more than his. If he asked, you'd feel obligated to agree. So you need to be the one, because then he'll know for sure it's what you want, not something you're agreeing to for his sake.

He figures he'll be waiting a while, watching you struggle to put the fitted sheet onto the mattress of the guest bedroom. You're not one to pursue these things, even if you know he knows you have feelings for him.

Or had. He's unsure if you still do.

There's no doubt you care about him, but do you love him the same way you used to, the way he does you?

"Whoever invented this shit got it all wrong," you grumble, throwing your hands up in defeat when the corner of the fitted sheet once again escapes the mattress.

Leon chuckles. "You, uh, need help over there?"

"No, I got it, I got it," you say, trying once again to get the sheet to hug all four corners. Hair falls into your face. You blow hot air in an attempt to get it out of the way, but your forehead's gotten sweaty from this mild excursion and refuses to let the hair go. Your cheeks puff out as you pout, brow furrowed.

"Yeah, I can see that," he teases. "Look, it'll be easier with two people. I'll take this side, you take that one. Then we only have to fight two corners each."

"And each other, Mr. Incredible," you say, but you agree nonetheless to his proposition.

"If I'm Mr. Incredible, does that make you Elastigirl?" he asks.

"Uh, we're not married, so I'm gonna have to say no."

"We could be," he wants to say. Instead, he says nothing.

"I'm surprised you've seen that movie. It's only been out in theaters for like a week," you continue, not noticing how Leon's looking at you.

"I'm not always on duty or training. I do have free time every now and then, you know."

"We could've gone together."

Your voice became so quiet and small when you said that. Leon freezes as you raise your gaze to meet his. It's brief, but you lose your smile for a fraction of a second before looking away. He really hadn't thought about that, he realizes. Why didn't he think of asking you to go to the movies with him?

"It was a midnight viewing. You had work the next day and you have your studies," he says.

"I would've put it all on hold for you." You've done it before, which you don't say but your tone is enough to tell him that. You sigh. "You know I can do things other than give you a place to sleep and give you comfort during the tough times. I am your friend, aren't I?"

Oh no. The road this conversation is taking makes Leon's stomach churn as his heart begins to hurt. Your smile is gone, replaced with a resigned expression. The light in your beautiful eyes, artificial before, is now gone completely.

Then you shake your head, a clear sign. You're not actually going to have the conversation. You won't risk upsetting Leon. You don't think your thoughts are worth hearing. He can read it in every motion of your body. He's always been able to read you like this.

Normally, he lets you get away with dropping subjects for his sake, but not this time.

This time, it will be different.

He drops the side of the mattress and fitted sheet he was working on and gently grabs your face, turning it towards him. You tense up, releasing your own side as you're taken by surprise by his sudden action. He takes a seat on the unmade bed, pulling you down with him onto his lap. You turn red and try to turn away, but he won't let you.

"Sweetheart, talk to me," he pleads.

You bite your bottom lip, shaking your head again. It's nothing. It's not worth bringing up...

He knows your weakness, though, and says your name in that voice he uses, the one that gets you to cuddle up to him at night when he needs someone to lean on. Despite your best efforts, you give in as tears sting your eyes. No, you won't cry. You won't let it get to that point, you think.

"Why do you only come to me when you need comfort? Why do you only seem to come for me when you're suffering? Why don't we do things normal friends do?" you ask in the smallest voice.

Part of you hopes he didn't actually hear any of it, but you know he hangs onto every word you say.

"Are we...Are we even friends anymore? Or am I just, like...I don't know...your fucking security blanket?"

There's venom in that last bit of your question. It curdles Leon's blood, threatening to kill him. Is that really all you think you are to him? Has he been that callous towards you? The very thought makes him sick.

"I'll never turn you away. You know this too well," you continue, trying to keep the harsher emotions out of your words. "But dammit, Leon, I just...I want to be able to do things with you that aren't just in this damn house or that involve a bed or a fucking bottle. I want to go to the movies or go shopping or to the arcade or just a goddamn walk once in a while. Is that so much to ask?"

He opens his mouth, but you're not done.

"We don't even talk that much. I know nothing about your life anymore except that you work for the damn government. You hardly ask about mine. Our phone conversations are lucky to get past the minute mark. You never tell me when you're coming. You just show up looking like shit in the middle of the night and expect me to..."

You take a haggard breath. "God, I'm so tired. So, so fucking tired, Leon. I care about you, and I know to some degree you care about me, too. And I get that you can't be too open with me about certain things because of your shitty-ass job. I get it, I do. But I just..."

Trailing off, you shake your head again before hiding your face in your hands. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. Forget it, can we just go back to--?"

Leon cuts you off by pulling you into a bone-crushing hug, putting the hand that once cupped your face onto the back of your head to guide it to rest on his shoulder. "Oh, sweetheart, no. No apologies. I told you to talk to me and you did. Thank you."

"For what?" you ask. He winces from how small your voice still is.

"For being honest with me. I know how hard it can be for you," he replies. "I am so sorry I made you feel this way. I really don't deserve you. Thank you for keeping me, even though I've done this. I'll do whatever I can to make it up to you, and I'll do whatever it takes to be a better friend. You deserve the world. All I can offer you is mine."

You're speechless and unable to hold back the tears. All you can say is his name as you wrap your arms around him, relaxing in his grasp. The two of you just hold each other for a while, minds going blank as you simply enjoy being together again. He hopes you feel better now that you have that weight off your chest. You shouldn't feel guilty for speaking your mind. Everything you said he needed to hear, needed to know, needed to consider.

He never thought he would be the friend who was all take and no give, and yet, he became that person without even realizing it.

And if you were dating, like he wishes you could, that would make him such a shit boyfriend, too.

"What do you want to do right now, sweetheart?" he asks in a whisper.

"You."

He nearly falls off the bed when you say that. His reaction causes you to burst into a fit of giggles.

"I'm kidding, Leon," you assure him, gently patting his cheek as he stares at you with wide eyes and a slack jaw. "My virgin ass ain't ready for that kind of thing, and besides, we don't have that type of friendship, now do we?"

"We...We could, though."

His arms around you is the only thing that keeps you from falling off of his lap and the bed. You blink several times, unsure if you heard him correctly or if you just imagined it. The reddish pink creeping into his cheeks tells you that yes, Leon S. Kennedy did in fact actually suggest your friendship could become the "with benefits" type. Your expression becomes a mirror image of his.

"Okay, let's, uh...Let's put a pin in this conversation for now, yeah?" Leon suggests, tearing his gaze away from yours. "How 'bout we, uh, finish making this bed...and then think about dinner. Sound good?"

All you can do is nod.

He carefully lifts you from his lap and places you onto the bed beside him before standing up, taking a deep breath to compose himself. What was he supposed to think now? Does your reaction mean you still loved him after all these years? Or are you simply sexually attracted to him now, like many people? Does it matter to you what the distinction is? Does it matter to him?

No, no it doesn't.

Never before has he wanted you as badly as he does after hearing your silly little joke. Who'd have thought a simple exchange of "what do you wanna do?" "you" could lead to him imagining all the lewd things he'd do with you? He's got some experience from short-term relationships that crashed and burned between the police academy and now. You, however...You've never even been on a date, let alone kissed someone, let alone had...

Get your head outta the gutter, Leon thinks. He shoves those lovely, nasty thoughts aside by thinking of the least attractive person he can--your great-aunt Henrietta. Yeah, that's a real boner killer right there. How she ever managed to get five men to agree to marry her is anyone's guess, what with that hideous personality.

But hey, if that bitch could get dates, so could you.

So why haven't you ever done that?

Have you really been waiting for Leon all this time?

[loveyourlovelysoul]

At times we don't really wanna move or do much, even if we'd like to. It's like something is blocking us: we prefer to stay where we are as it's more comfortable and it won't require us to make any move or preparation. It feels like we're "lazy".

Despite it's okay to follow your needs and act on what you feel best for you, at times it's good to go for what will really make you feel better: if you know that, despite having to change clothes (you're not obliged anyway) and actually prepare yourself, going out for a walk improves your mood and makes you feel less stressed, go ahead and do it. Gain the strength to actually get out of your house and go. It's not necessary to prepare yourself tbh, but it's part of what will make yourself feel cared for, together with the walk you'll take yourself on. Give yourself an objective maybe: going to a certain bookstore or place you'd like to visit, maybe a new shop or a different side of your neighbourhood: you don't have to go miles away, even a close destination is okay. It depends on each one of us but maybe thinking that you have to go nearby will help you move or vice versa you may need to think you have to go far to decide to go out. Find whatever works for you. and try to make it a routine. Start with one day per week and then make it 2-3 or more. You don't have to stay outside for long, even few minutes can do it (as for the destination, decide according on you what seems more appealing to you: staying out a lot or 5-10 minutes), but try to resist at least 30 minutes.

I'm mentioning walking but ofc you can apply this to any other hobby or action you have that you may find difficult to actually start doing. The problem comes with starting it, so just try to give yourself reasons to. The more you'll constantly practice it with intention, the more your brain won't see it as an obligation (it will reconnect it with the happiness it brings you), the easier it will become for you to start doing it.

[dgct2]

This is another long thread that is worth reading. These are tips of what to do if you want to help the WGA Picket Lines in LA. Thanks to Liz Hsiao Lan Alper for writing this all out. You can find her Twitter HERE.

First, when we say "Join the picket line!" what we mean is, "Join the picket line IF YOU CAN."

There are a plethora of reasons you might not be able to picket. All of them are okay. We're talking to the folks who can but don't want to, not the ones who want to but can't!

Here are the guidelines for picketing, as found on the WGAContract2023 site.

ARRIVING TO THE PICKET LINE

Remember to sign-in during your picket shift. Show your WGA card or a photo ID at the sign-in table and staff will sign you in. If not a member, you can sign with staff.

Bring reusable water bottles and sunscreen. Guild staff will bring sunscreen for emergencies but likely will not have enough for every person on the picket line every day.

Wear comfortable shoes and a hat. It gets HOT, and we want everyone to be safe!

ON THE PICKET LINE

ALWAYS follow instructions from Guild staff, Picket Coordinators, Assistant Coordinators, and Gate Captains. Their job is to keep the picket line effective, legal, and safe.

Keep moving, walking with your signs up and down the sidewalks.

Obey all traffic rules. Do not block crosswalks and do not block traffic.

Allow individuals vehicles to safely enter and/or exit the gates free of harassment.

If approached by the public, police, or news media, redirect them to a Guild staff, a Lot Coordinator/Captain.

AFTER YOUR DAILY SHIFT ON THE PICKET LINE

Clean up trash and recyclables.

Return picket signs to the check-in table

If end of day, Please help Staff & Coordinators take down the tables & tents, bundle signs, and pack the vans.

So what about when you get to the picket line, after you've checked in at the designated check in table? What about *whispers* socializing?

- Grab a sign and join the line!

- Wanna talk to someone? Compliment their sign! See a reunion group? Tell them you love their show!

- Better yet, consider coming out to one of the themed pickets! You'll find tons of writers who are also into the thing you are into! A calendar of those pickets can be found HERE.

- If you see someone on the line who has a red lanyard that says "Board Member" or "Negotiating committee", absolutely come up and talk to us. Say hello! Introduce yourself! Tell them that Liz Alper told you to do this and they're obligated to be your friend now.

- Don't want to talk to anyone? DON'T! Bring headphones! Listen to a podcast! I'm still trying to get an introvert gate up and running.

- Everyone on the line worth talking to loves dogs.

- Stay for as long as you want, whether that's the full shift or the hour you can spare.

- There's a LOT of honking from cars. Great for solidarity, bad for the nerves and ears (especially if you have sensory issues). Headphones or earplugs help tremendously.

- Sometimes there's food donations, often there isn't (despite how it looks on SM). Please make sure to eat

WHAT IF YOU CAN'T PICKET?

Again, it's OK! We need a lot of non-picket help! Text banking/sign making/van packing/etc. Please email Picket2023@wga.org if you are in Los Angeles.

If you're a WGA member, ask about neutral gates! It's a quiet, sitting job on the picket line

WHAT IF I HAVE QUESTIONS AND I'M TOO NERVOUS TO ASK ON TWITTER/IN PERSON?

Feel free to DM me, or reach out to the Guild directly! We truly have some of the most incredible staff working and they can help.

That's it! Longer than I wanted, but hope it helps!

Oh, last note (if you made it this far!) I personally have sensory issues that mean I have to limit picketing to 2-3 times a week. Do I have FOMO when I see picket pics? All the time. Do I need to take care of myself tho? Yes. Should you do the same? Also and always, yes.

[luke-hughes43]

"What the hell dude?!" | Luke and Stella

this is a little more in depth abt trevor hurting stella's feelings abt her moving to jersey.

stella's pov

we're all hanging out outside and have the fire going. I'm curled in luke's lap on the verge of falling asleep. I'm vaguely listening to the conversation the guys were having. the only thing I really hear is trevor (very drunkenly might I add) make a comment along the lines of, "oh like stel going to jersey for Luke?"

my whole body just freezes. that just hits a nerve because him of all people know that I was hesitant about going in the first place and why. trevor then goes on to say, "it's like that girl, Sarah I think, from high school who followed that guy she was dating to college in like Florida or something and then they broke up like a month into college or something. that's the stupidest thing, moving across the country for your boyfriend/girlfriend. honestly."

that really strikes a nerve with me and so I just get up and go inside. Luke calls after me, I can hear trevor getting smacked in the head, and I hear the door reopen after I close it.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and I turn to see Quinn. he pulls me in for a hug and I just start balling. once I've calmed down enough to talk I say, "why would he say that? that's so mean and he knows that that was my biggest fear is transferring anyways. like does my own brother think that little of me and thinks that I just follow Luke around like a lost puppy? is that what everyone thinks of me?"

Quinn says softly, "stel, I promise that we don't think that of you. and I know that Luke doesn't. Trevor is just an asshole and he's drunk so he's a drunk asshole. I promise, he doesn't think of you like that either. and even if he did, I don't. jack doesn't, but more importantly Luke doesn't. he called me and talked me for like an hour a few days before asking about going to jersey in the first to make sure it was a good idea. he didn't want you to feel obligated to go with him. Stella, Luke loves you more than anything in this world, you are the oxygen he breathes, if you wanted to move to Mexico, he'd quit hockey and go with you."

I just nod and focus on the words he's saying. we stand there in silence for a while and Quinn just hugs me and holds me tight. after a few minutes he asks, "want me to go get Luke?"

I say quietly, "yes please."

"ok stel." he says and lets go to go get Luke. I try to wipe the tears away when Quinn leaves but they just come flooding back when I see Luke. he sweeps me up in a hug and brings to our room. Luke does his best to calm me down and eventually I fall asleep from exhaustion. Luke stays the whole night with me, never leaving my side.

Quinn's pov

after I calm Stella down, I get Luke so that he can comfort her while I rip trevor a new one. I go back outside and say, "Luke. she needs you." he nods and quickly goes inside after her. once I hear the door shut, I start ripping into trevor.

"what the hell dude? why the fuck would you say that? you know she's worried that everyone will think of her as some lovestruck fool that can't be more than 5 feet from Luke since she's transferring to be closer to him. she was just crying in my arms scared that we all thought of her as some lost puppy that follows Luke around. that's your fucking sister trevor, treat her with respect."

"ok I'm sorry. it's not that big a deal q."

"it is a big deal. get your head out of your ass and sober up before apologizing to her. get a grip zegras. your own fucking sister, who's the love of my baby brother's life, is a mess because she thinks that all you see her as a lost poppy following Luke around. the last thing she ever wanted was for people to think of her like and now the person who was supposed to protect her from the world and the monsters under her bed is the one making her feel so small and so bad about herself. fix it trevor, or I swear to god you're never welcome back here."

trevor's eyes get wide and so does everyone else's. he nods frantically searching for the nearest water to help kickstart his detox. jack looks at him with a reassuring smile and nod that I did the right thing. if her own brother is gonna be treat her like shit, then someone has to protect her when trevor's an ass so it's gonna be jack and i.

she's the little sister we always wanted growing up and we're gonna treat her and protect her like she is. 

[writtenbynath]

Making her cum

Related to that post by SOL I just reblogged...

Have you ever noticed this? When a man, especially a Dom, pleasures his female partner, he is "making her cum", and her orgasm(s) are considered his success. If he fails to "make her cum", his sexual prowess is considered sub-par.

Have you ever noticed that it's totally different when a woman gives a man an orgasm? BJs and receiving a fucking are often considered a submissive act, and the resulting orgasm may cause the man to call her a "good girl", but rarely does a woman get to brag about the amazing orgasms she gives her guy in the same way a man brags about how hard he can make his girlfriend cum. The language is even different; women almost never use this phrase "make him cum", it seems to be reserved for female bottoms.

The underlying heteronormative sexism squicks me. The phrase irks me. I don't ever want to catch myself saying that I "made my girlfriend cum". I do not own her orgasms, I have no illusions that I caused the orgasm. I pleasure her, I finger her, I want to make her happy. But whether she has an orgasm is ultimately not up to me, it depends on her state of mind, her relaxation, her comfort. I'll try to help her, of course.

I'd like to brag about how I can make my boyfriend cum, but frankly, that doesn't feel like mine to brag about. Sure, I'm happy with my fellatio skills, and they seem to enjoy fucking me a lot, but orgasm is just as elusive and mysterious in my male lovers as it is in my female ones. It happens only if he's in the right state of mind, comfortable and ready. I wonder what that's like for MM couples, does one feel like he "made his boyfriend cum"? What is it like for GQ folk?

Honestly, I think this is why some women fake orgasms, because their partner (usually a guy) is expecting her, pressuring her, to orgasm. He is spending all this time and effort "making her cum" and she feels obliged, so she fakes it. The alternative, telling your partner that this is not working, so let's do something else now, that's not fun. It feels like rejection, some people react badly to it.

It's connected to this other phrase "lasting long in bed". A man's sexual prowess is not just measured in how hard he can make his girl cum, but also in how long he can stay hard and fuck before he orgasms. Because sex always ends when the guy orgasms? Have you ever really thought about that?

And on the opposite end of the spectrum, a woman is fun in the sack if she cums quickly and often. Women who have difficulty reaching orgasm are considered not as sexy, just like men who cum "too quickly", whatever that means. And that's why "making him cum" quickly is considered not an accomplishment. Or that's my guess.

My point is, we need to let go of all this shit. People feel bad when they cum too fast, or when they don't cum, and sex does not revolve around orgasm, does it? We need to have sexy fun together without all these toxic ideas about how men and women "are supposed to have sex". So, personally, I never use that phrase "making her cum". I encourage my partners to feel and enjoy, and to tell me what they need, when to go harder, and when to stop. I compliment my partners when they cum. I think their O-faces are absolutely gorgeous, I feel honoured that I get to see them like this, touch them like this, that they are willing to share this with me. And I hope they feel the same way.

Let's share the sex-positivity! It think it will make fun and orgasms a lot easier for all of us if we just make up our own rules about what we want to do when we're having sex.