#you are always allowed to be uncomfortable

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 29

Din Djarin + Excessive Cum

Hey yall, super late to finish kinktober, hows everyone doing? Changing my major has been a lot more work than I imagined besides usual classwork, so its only now ive had any free time to write. But I still want to finish kinktober, even if its late.

On the shorter side, since I just wanted to finish kinktober.

Kinktober 2024 masterlist

Din Djarin let out a shaky whine, soft and quiet enough that the vocoder of his helmet almost didn’t pick it up. He was never one to make much noise, even when you guys had been apart for long when bounties were drawn out, or when you were busy in return.

The only way you could truly tell it had been too long, was the way Din couldn’t control his hips, and how they jolted and twitched into your hands or mouth. Hed jump and jolt like a rabbit, giving short and fast thrusts of his hips as if he couldn’t control himself or his reactions.

He was always so full after you two had been apart. Din never saw a reason to get off on his own. There hadn’t been much need for it before you two got together, when all that mattered to him was bringing credits back to the clan. And after you two became an item, Din only felt it made sense to allow you to be the one to bring him that pleasure.

Hed never known what he was missing as your hands twisted and pulled at his weeping sensitive cock for the first time, his balls so full you almost cooed at him in pity. It must have been so uncomfortable to be so backed up, to be so incredibly full and heavy, ready to blow from the smallest of touches.

The lack of skin on skin contact Din experienced only added onto it, making him even more sensitive as he oozed and dripped in your hands. It seemed as if his body was trying to catch up to the many years of neglect he had given it, now that it knew you were there to empty his balls when they got too full.

It left Din desperate and panting whenever you got your hands on his dick, after you would remove as little armor as possible to get to his crotch or ass. Sometimes he felt like an animal, his jaw hanging open as his eyes glazed over under his helmet. The Mandalorian felt as if you knew the exact expression on his face, even if you couldn’t see it, making him pulse even more.

You were always shocked at just how much Din could cum, no matter how many times you tried to empty him out or milk him like some kind of cattle. It only ever resulted in Dins noises getting so loud that his vocoder crackled at the volume and pitch, his legs shaking as he tried his damnest to fuck into your grip, no matter how sensitive he was.

There was so much to catch, so much to swallow, there had even been a few times where the sudden gush of spend had made some of it shoot out your nose, only making Din moan even louder when he saw it.

it shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone that someone who never got down and dirty with another being, had a lot of fantasies, and luckily for Din, you were willing to try out most of them, even if that meant allowing Din to stand or kneel above you and spill his seed all over you until he was drained dry.

It was attractive, sure, but also made a real mess. Lucky for the both of you the ship you spent most of your time on had the ability to air out, or else the entire thing would reek of your intimacy. And the closet full of cleaning supplies was restocked regularly. In the end you just liked making Din feel good, and you couldn’t blame him for shooting like a firehose. At least it was hot.

[fight-nights-at-freddys]

not gonna int w them but i wanted to talk abt it. r/antiship sucks but i came across this post and i just.

why are they so ready and willing to blame the media they consume or the fandoms they become engrossed with rather than themselves or their parents for not monitoring them? the fact you discover this stuff at a young age does not mean it's the content's fault.

hentai didn't groom you, shotas didn't come to your house and make you sexualize them, lolis didn't force your parents to allow you to watch that stuff. even if you ARE uncomfortable with that stuff (which is fine! no one has to like the same things), it is your/your parents' duty to curate your online experience.

and i think we can all agree that (at least based on what they said above) they weren't groomed, right? you have no right to claim that you were groomed because you played a flash porn game. not only is that completely misusing the term, but it's making a mockery out of ACTUAL victims of grooming.

and, i'm sorry, but if you're saying that watching feral/guro/whatever porn normalized it in your head, then that says more about you than it does everyone else that likes that type of content. plenty of us consumed that stuff (and worse!) at young ages, but we knew it wasn't normal, or okay to act on IRL.

i'm just tired of seeing the "it was bad for me so it must be bad for everyone else!" thing. what's good for the gander ain't always good for the goose, and that's fine, but don't make it everyone else's problem.

[planetpedri]

hey girly please can you do one with marc bernal where he’s super clingy after his injury and he just wants to be babied, tysm xxx

Generous heart — Marc bernal.

Pairing: Marc Bernal x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend had never been a clingy person, but it seems this injury had changed him more than you thought.

Word count: 560+

Disclaimer/s: Acl injury, pain, light angst to comfort. mostly fluff though !

A/N: When do the injuries end UGHHH. Come back soon diva

Marc’s parents had been allowing you to stay over for the night more and more. Ever since his injury, they had claimed he’d been more down than usual, but whenever you came around, suddenly his spirits were lifted and he felt.. well, the closest thing to normal someone could with the injuries he’d sustained.

While sitting up in his bed, Marc uncomfortably moved around. At some points he’d wince in pain, trying to disguise his discomfort by looking to the side. Each time you’d remind him that he needed to verbally tell you if something was hurting, rather than pretending it wasn’t there.

So, you’d convinced him to just lay down, which he did, but not without pulling you down with him. A soft laugh escaped your lips as he tugged on your arm.

“Lay down with me.” He huffs, looking up at you with a forced scowl.

“Chillax, i’m going to!” You grin, slowly inching yourself from a sitting position down to a lying one. The second you were flat against his bed, he pulled you closer, using his right arm to slip under your head.

Once he was satisfied with the position, your head resting on his shoulder, he bent his head down to place a kiss to the top of your head.

You smile at the gesture before unlocking your phone and opening TikTok, scrolling mindlessly through the videos as Marc watched with you.

Thats how most of your days and nights spent together went. He would have you cuddle with him and watch whatever you had on your phone. In fact, he’d prefer you nearly laying on top of him on your phone, than you giving him space and sitting beside him.

Marc was never this.. cuddly before. You weren’t complaining, though. Just to make that clear. You loved it, in fact. But, it was new, and each time you couldn’t help but smile the whole time. You liked this part of him, the one you hadn’t seen much until recently.

“Wait!” He suddenly says, making your eyes widen and shoot up to him, “I wasn’t done with that video, scroll up.”

Letting out a long breath, you huff. “Holy shit, you scared me!”

A guilty look passes across his face, “sorry..” He says sheepishly, “just scroll up, please?”

Nodding, you scroll back to the last video. “Let me know when I can continue.” You chuckle.

“Will do.” He hums, “hey, wait.”

Groaning, you pause the video. “Yes?” You meet his gaze once again and you’re met with a smug smirk. Great.

“A kiss would do.”

Oh this little…

Rolling your eyes, you tilt your head back to grant him access to your lips. He takes the chance, using his free hand to place his thumb and index finger on your chin, tilting your head up a little further. You don’t think you’d ever get used to his kisses, they were always so gentle and meaningful and perfect…

Sighing into the kiss, your eyes flutter shut. “Anything else you need? You big baby.” You murmur against his lips, feeling the smile that forms on his.

“I am a little hungry..” He pulls away, cocking his head to the side. “Takeout?”

“Or we could get off our asses and go make some real food.” You suggest, but exit TikTok to open google. “What do you want?”

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in any future marc related posts.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby !

[timmydraker]

CW: Implied SA, P3dophillia, (dubcon) sexual content

Jason hates galas the most out of his siblings.

Coming from his Crime Alley background and his death, it’s always uncomfortable with the subtle grimaces and obnoxious remarks.

The only reason he goes is because if he doesn’t Bruce won’t give him any allowance even though he’s twenty three, but it’s hard being a crime lord so he’ll take the money.

As usual, he sneaks off after a solid hour. He gives Dick a nod to let him know he’s leaving just so his older brother won’t freak out upon not being able to find him, and makes his way down the hall of the building he’s in to find the elevator.

Unfortunately it’s one of those stupid rich people ones where the elevator looks like a normal door so he has to look for the buttons, which leads him to get turned around a few times until he hears something interesting.

The sounds of obvious sex, cringy and almost fake sounding, makes the asexual in him gag but the crime lord curious.

A few times now he’s blackmailed rich folk with evidence of them cheating so if he can get someone else to give him some pocket money, he won’t need to come to the next gala…

As Jason carefully gets closer o the door, pulling out his phone, he can really tell that one voice is way too high and practiced. Fake, like those pornos his men watch too loud in their communal lounges for some bloody reason.

Apart of him is giddy at possibly finding some random richy guy being a shit fuck, if only because he finds the whole thing funny.

He opens the door slowly, making sure not a sound is heard from it, before peaking in to see what the situation is.

The first thing he sees is a guy who can’t be younger than fifty jerking his hips rapidly and huffing like a puffed Chihuahua, pathetic and kind of concerning. He’s on a couch angled so Jason can’t see his face, but the greying hair tells him everything.

It makes him have to hold back a snort but then his eyes trail over to the person underneath him.

Unlike the older man, the person is young and clearly not enjoying himself.

Jason only has a moment to realise this is probably a closeted gay man when his brain catches up and he realises who the other person is.

He only had a second to be disgusted because oh ew, gross gross gross, that’s his baby brother before shit that’s his baby brother.

Tim is the one making those performing noises.

Tim is the one being pressed down by a guy three times his age.

Tim is the one who’s making noises like he’s enjoying himself but is looking off to the side with a mostly blank face.

Tim, who’s only been eighteen for two months, is the one being used by some crusty old fuck and is seemingly pretending to enjoy it.

Jason wants to rush in and start attacking, to rip the guy off his brother and maybe punch his face into mush, but then he meets Tim’s eye and he feels his heart break.

Because Tim looks so ashamed, so disgusted with himself as he spots Jason and looks away with clear guilt in his eyes. He looks like he wants to crawl aaay and hide forever and Jason gets that because duh, his older brother just caught him having sex, but something about the situation just doesn’t feel right.

Jason thinks he should leave and give Tim some kind of talk later but then the older geezer on top of him speaks, “Fuck, Tim, you-god you’re so fucking tight, so perfect, such a good little bitch! Missed you little hole for months-“

The growl Jason lets out isn’t entirely human, something unholy that probably came from the pit, as he throws the door open and barges into the room.

Tim shakes his head as if to tell him to stop, but Jason is quicker.

He’s also quicker than the man who, ones his rips him off his little brother before he even process the door opening, he realises is a senator. He throws the man down, kicks his stomach in three times before driving a boot to his head.

Wordlessly he turns to his brother who is tearily pulling his dress pants and struggling to hold back sobs.

Jason holds out his hands in offer of a hug and is relieved when his brother accepts, because it means that physical touch hasn’t been ruined for him completely.

After just a few moments he mutters a warning to his brother that he’s going to pick him up and takes him out of the room with a last kick the man’s head.

He probably won’t die, but the brain trauma will be enough for Jason.

For now at least.

Jason holds his baby brother close to him as he takes him down to his car, finally finding the elevator with Tim’s silent help, and takes him back to his apartment.

On the way he sends a message to the demon brat, simply saying:

Don’t let anyone look for or bother me and Tim and I’ll buy you a snake.

[rottenfyre]

⸻ ᴜ ɴ ᴛ ɪ ʟ ᴅ ᴇ ᴀ ᴛ ʜ ᴅ ᴏ ᴜ ꜱ ᴀ ᴘ ᴀ ʀ ᴛ ⸻

Pairing: Show Aemond Targaryen x Fem Reader

Headcanon: how would he be when he's obsessed?

˚꒰notes꒱‧ English is not my first language. Gifs belong to @barbieaemond. Hope you enjoy!

Aemond’s obsession with you is intense yet restrained. He’s not the type to openly declare his feelings or show affection through words or flowery gestures. Instead, he watches you, studies you, absorbs every detail—like he’s trying to memorize you. Your smallest gestures, the sound of your laughter, even the way your eyes shift when you’re uncomfortable—all of it becomes ingrained in his mind. You’re his fixation, his secret treasure, the one thing he allows himself to crave.

At first, his presence is barely noticeable. He’s there, quietly lingering in the background, watching you in ways that feel both protective and invasive. But as time passes, you realize he’s always there, always watching.

“You have no idea, do you?” he’d murmur one night, his eyes holding an unsettling intensity. “How long I’ve waited, how much I’d sacrifice just to keep you close.”

Aemond’s possessiveness doesn’t manifest in obvious ways. He doesn’t need to announce that you’re his—he knows it, and in his mind, so should you. The way he stands close to you, how he always seems to position himself between you and others, the subtle but possessive hand he places on the small of your back—all are quiet signs of his control.

When others try to get too close to you, his gaze alone is enough to send them away. Aemond doesn’t tolerate competition; to him, you’re his, and he’ll ensure that no one ever doubts it. He won’t raise his voice or cause a scene like his brother—his icy stare and that ever-present hand on his sword are all he needs to convey his message.

“You belong to me,” he’d say in that low, measured tone, his fingers tracing a slow line down your arm. “Do not let them forget that.”

Aemond knows everything about you—your daily habits, your secrets, your fears. He’s intelligent, calculating, and patient, and he uses those skills to orchestrate situations that keep you close to him. He knows who you speak to, where you go, and even your thoughts before you voice them. He’ll play on your fears, your desires, using them to his advantage, always pushing you closer into his web.

He won’t openly restrict you. Instead, he’ll manipulate circumstances so that you have no choice but to turn to him. When you need comfort, he’s there; when you feel threatened, he’s there, his hand on his sword, ready to protect. In his mind, he’s the only one who can understand you, the only one who’s truly worthy of you.

“You see how they look at you, don’t you?” he’d whisper, his tone almost affectionate, a hint of jealousy darkening his gaze. “They don’t deserve to even stand in your shadow.”

Aemond’s jealousy is quiet, subtle, but no less dangerous. He seethes when others try to approach you, though he keeps his composure, his expression unreadable. But if anyone dares get too close, Aemond’s revenge is swift and ruthless. He’ll ruin reputations, destroy alliances—he’ll make them pay in ways that leave no question about his power. His jealousy isn’t petty; it’s all-consuming, a cold, lethal fire.

If he catches you in conversation with another man, he’ll silently insert himself into the situation, his icy gaze boring into them, making it clear that you’re untouchable. He won’t show his rage outwardly, but the consequences will be devastating. And if anyone dares to harm you or threaten your relationship? His retribution will be terrifyingly swift.

“Let them try,” he’d murmur, his fingers running possessively through your hair. “They’ll regret ever thinking they could touch what’s mine.”

Aemond struggles with vulnerability, his past leaving scars he can’t hide. His emotions are buried deep, guarded by layers of pride, shame, and bitterness. But with you, his intensity surfaces in ways even he can’t fully control. You’re the one thing that breaks through his walls, and he both hates and craves that vulnerability. He’ll never openly admit his love, but it shows in the way he’s constantly there, always silently protecting, always watching.

And when he’s alone with you, he lets that restraint slip. He holds you as if you’re a lifeline, a fragile thing he could lose at any moment. His touch is both possessive and desperate, a reminder that you’re the one thing in his life he can’t stand to lose.

“You’re the only one I need,” he’d confess in a rare moment of vulnerability, his voice almost breaking. “The only one who matters.”

He believes the world is a dangerous place, full of enemies who’d harm you, and he’s determined to be your shield. He’ll demand that you stay close to him, questioning your every move if it takes you out of his sight. He’ll use his power to keep you safe, even if it means isolating you from everyone else.

If you try to resist, he won’t argue or raise his voice. Instead, he’ll find subtle ways to manipulate the situation so that you have no choice but to obey. And in his mind, it’s all justified—it’s all to keep you safe.

“Stay close to me,” he’d command softly, his hand tightening around yours. “The world is full of threats, and I’ll be damned if I let any of them touch you.”

He’s possessive to the point of madness, convinced that you’re the only person who understands him, the only one who sees him for who he truly is. And if he ever feels like he’s losing you, his obsession will consume him, driving him to desperate, dangerous lengths.

He won’t hesitate to use every resource at his disposal to ensure you remain his, even if it means trapping you in a world where he’s your only companion.

“If you ever leave, there’ll be no place you can hide,” he’d say, his voice low, his gaze dark and unwavering. “You’re mine, and I’ll make sure it stays that way.”

Aemond’s love isn’t gentle or kind; it’s fierce, unyielding, and impossible to escape. Once he’s set his sights on you, there’s no freedom, no escape. His love is a trap, one that tightens around you until you realize there’s no way out. But in Aemond’s mind, it’s a love like no other—a love that binds you together, that defies the bounds of mortality itself

In Aemond’s world, love is something that consumes, devours. Once he’s claimed you, there’s no escape—only him, and the unbreakable bond he’s forced upon you.

“Even death wouldn’t stop me from finding you,” he’d murmur, his lips brushing over your forehead, his arms wrapped tightly around you. “No one else could ever love you like I do. Remember that.”

@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ.

[silverlining-ships]

Music comms are CLOSED!! Check out the waitlist here!!

Ok y'know what, screw it. My brain seems to require three-four pieces at one time (genuinely cannot figure out why that is), and with the fact I only have two queued up right now and the game I'm composing for doesn't need any tracks at the moment, I'm getting composer's block again. So we're OPENING my music requests!!

I'm actually stunned at how many people seemed interested in getting a piece of soundtrack music for their f/o. I'm opening it to non-mutuals, and it's totally free! If you're concerned about paying/tipping for work, I'm always happy to receive content for my selfship, but I will not accept any money, and there's no pressure to tip content anyway. Again, this is for fun!

This is how it works:

Fill out this google form with the title of your ship, some songs you like, instruments, etc etc.

You can message on Tumblr or Discord (@/slipperson on Discord) on top of submitting the form too! I'll reach out myself once I get started on your piece.

I'll sketch out a draft, which is exactly like sketching out a basic pose for art - it'll typically only use piano/minor percussion. Sometimes I'll even give a simple concept before I flesh out a draft. I'll send it to you for approval.

If changes are needed, I'll refine the draft and re-update. If not, I'll go on to fleshing out the instrumental - this means adding instruments, changing volume (for example, in my first example, I used a lot of "dynamics"/volume changes to simulate the swelling of instruments). This is like adding the flat colors in a piece of art!

I'll send it to you again - I'll make changes upon your request, but if approved, I'll finally go ahead and mix the final draft. This means putting it through an audio program (audacity if you're curious!) and polishing the sound. This is like rendering the lighting!

After it's done, I'll send it to you for once last listen. Upon approval, I'll post it to Soundcloud, link it on Tumblr, and tag you in the post!

Important bits:

No comship/proship/aged up-or-down/RPF ships. Live action characters are fine as long as it's not the actual person. Familial/platonic ships are totally okay!

If you are a minor/ageless blog, I'm willing to write a piece for familial/platonic content, but not QPR/romantic.

Downtime is 1-2 months after I first open your request. I may finish it sooner, but no later than 2 months. This is because music generally takes awhile--30 seconds of music can take me 4-5 hours to concept! I also tend to work on 3-4 pieces of music at a time.

I will give frequent updates. Don't be afraid to reach out if you're curious on the status!

My work is never cleared to be used commercially or in AI programs. We're a bunch of selfshippers on Tumblr, so I know we all hate AI, but it's worth the mention. I tend to be strict on copywrite - it'll stay under my name, all rights reserved - however, you are free to use your piece wherever you'd like as long as it's not commercial use, used in a monetized campaign/video/form of media, and not used in AI.

I may put these tracks on a streaming service at a later date - not on Spotify, as the service is TERRIBLE with allowing their work to be remixed into AI. Something like Bandcamp or Soundcloud for Artists. If you are uncomfortable with this, please let me know.

Examples:

I will have my queue/completed list on my carrd here.

Thank you so much for your interest!! I'm actually so stunned I got so much love for this, and I'm excited to celebrate your ships with you!

heart border

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 26.

Summary: In which you and Venetia finally discuss the thing you've been avoiding all Summer since Oliver arrived. You finally get the truth from her, and wish you hadn't. Still, you finally offer the truth to Felix.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

A/N: 3101 words. where have i been? don't worry about it. where have you been? anyways i hope you want some drama to sink your teeth into. went into a much different direction than the chapter outline i had for it. unedited, but would love to hear from you guys as i'm getting back into it!

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

Things have been quiet since Farleigh left. Was sent away. Whispered gossip and speculation between the Catton siblings and Oliver that you feel too strange to indulge in, and an ache in your chest that you feel like you're not allowed to talk about. For all his disappointment regarding Farleigh's betrayal of the family, Felix knows your own hurt runs far deeper than you will ever let on. Yes, the two of you fought often, and in time you all knew he'd be back, but this conflict had made your bond especially fragile, and in his absence you feared it may never again be what it once was.

And Oliver seems to pick up on it too.

"Are you going to prune all of his flowers too?" Oliver asks, sounding so casual, but his words catch you by surprise, and your expression drops as you turn to him. It's late, in the study together, and he's got one of your botany books open in his lap.

"Whose flowers?" You know who he means, but hate the very thought. You hope you'd misheard. You hope you're wrong, but you're not.

"Farleigh's."

"What makes you think that?" You ask, turning back to the textbook in front of you, laying open on the desk.

"I just mean... well after trying to go under the Catton's noses like he did," Oliver shrugs, like he can't see your growing upset at the reminder, can't see how your face has fallen. This Summer night feels so cold; many have since Farleigh had left.

"No," you tell him faintly, turning to the next page of your book, heart beating uncomfortably in your chest, "he's still family."

"Oh," Oliver doesn't say much more about it after that, nor does he stay all that long either.

"Zinnias," you murmur, face still turned to your book, when he goes to retire for the night. Oliver gives pause, and you tell him, "Farleigh's flowers are the zinnias; they look a bit like a sunset." Oliver doesn't have much of a response, other than telling you goodnight, but you weren't sure what you had been expecting otherwise.

He's somehow even quieter than usual in the wake of the scandal, but he clings to you and Felix now more than he doesn't, and you find yourself clinging to him too. He's been good enough to not bring up Farleigh's departure around you either, though he has taken Farleigh's usual seat beside you at the table. Honestly, you don't really mind; you'd rather that than the emptiness continue to remind you. Surprisingly it's Venetia who seems to have grown wary of him.

"You and Feef must be pleased," she languishes, her back against you in the bath next to her own room, perfumed steam turning golden in the candlelight, "mummy and daddy both like this one."

"Please don't talk about Ollie like that," you sighed, chin on her shoulder, arms wrapped around her, holding her close.

"Daddy called him 'an intriguing, well-read, young man' the other day," Venetia continues as if she hadn't heard you at all, "and mummy called him charming and thoughtful, and much better than 'the last one'," she offers candidly, "she just liked that he liked my brother, I don't think she ever really cared for Eddie himself much," she leans back a little against you, and turns just enough that you can see her smirk at the corner of her lips, "you didn't either, did you? Even before everything happened between me and him?"

Lowering your face, you pressed your lips to her shoulder firmly, taking a moment to compose your thoughts before diplomatically telling her that Eddie didn't matter anymore. It does you no good to ask her why she's bringing this up now, but you still ask. As expected, Venetia ignores the question.

"Where did Eddie go after he was cast out? Rude, by the way," she adds, "he was fun," her tone is so jarringly light, though you know part of it is just to get a rise out of you. You don't take the bait.

"That was your mother's decision, not mine," you offer flatly.

"Did you have him killed?" Venetia's glee at the very idea was downright malicious, playing at sounding scandalised. You don't even want to humour her with a real response, just giving a flat, side-eye, "oh, don't give me that look, I'm sure your parents have plenty of people killed all the time."

"They don't -"

"Or they're just not telling you about it," she shrugs, pondering for a moment, "I think our family could get away with murder given the right circumstances, you know? But I could definitely see Pearl having critics murdered for negative reviews on a whim all the time," at her mention of your mother, your face scrunches up. Unfortunately she did have a point, but you hoped your parents, for all their sins, weren't actually that petty and vindictive.

"You're more my family then they are, Ven," you choose instead to say, and Venetia hummed, taking one of your hands beneath the water, lacing her fingers with yours.

"That's sweet as long as I don't think about it for more then a second," she giggled, tipping her head back against your shoulder, turning her face to yours with a mischievous smile, "but that still means you get one, and I'm asking if you and mummy had Feef's ex-boyfriend murdered and buried beneath the flowers in the fairy garden."

"If we'd had Eddie murdered - which we didn't - I wouldn't have had him used as fertiliser in the fairy garden," you tell her firmly, "my flowers deserve better than that." At that, Venetia snorted a laugh, leaning forward to grab her body wash. Sliding seamlessly to the other end of the tub, she begins to methodically wash herself, starting with her arms. There's little else to do but watch her; you don't want to encourage this conversation if you could help it, but you're not sure where to to go from here.

"He was really quite ghastly, wasn't he?" Venetia says suddenly, not even looking at you.

"What?" Your tone is immediately sharp.

"Eddie; he was awfully cruel to Felix," she elaborates casually, like she's completely unaffected by the sudden intensity of your gaze, "not outwardly," she muses, pausing in her scrubbing as she finally meets your gaze, her own thoughtful, "but, like, insidiously, beyond even cheating on him."

"With you," you remind her harshly, but there's an insistent earnestness in her expression that you really hadn't been expecting as she continues.

"With me, yes, but that's the thing," here she gives pause, as if searching for the right words, "he never talked about you or Felix," she finally says like she still can't quite believe it, "you I suppose I understand, but honestly it did always, I don't know, I suppose it irritated me how little he talked to you or even about you, even when he was around you. But it's like Felix didn't even exist either when he wasn't around him," with each word she speaks, her expression falls just a little more. This is all making you feel rather ill; you can't even bring yourself to want to try and comfort Venetia in some way as she seems so helpless and small with her thoughts fixed on the memory.

"I think I wanted to prove that not everything revolves around my brother," she admits softly, "but I suppose it would always be easy taking something he never really had." Her voice is so small when she turns her far away look upon you, "Eddie never really loved Felix, not really," it's not a question, "there was no regret about hurting him," she mutters bitterly, gaze drifting again. Venetia barks a rueful laugh, "you know he apologised to me? I know he's not dead," she admits, "he called after landing in America before I thought to block him, Summer wasn't even over, he didn't even mention Felix let alone ask if he was alright. I was fine!" She laughs angrily, and when she looks back at you, there's tears in her eyes, "but Felix was -" but it catches in her throat, and it's like she finally sees the hurt and anger in your eyes with all she's admitting to. Immediately her gaze drops, apologetic and self conscious for her self involved outburst given the circumstances; she knows she's not the victim.

Felix was shattered.

Venetia clears her throat suddenly, looking away. When she speaks, when she tells you that she knows you warned Oliver away from her, her tone is forcibly bright. But you can't speak. You don't want to be here, don't want to be around her right now. All of your suspicions about Eddie had been right in the end, and now she had to go ahead and bring up Oliver.

Venetia says your name softly, but you stand.

"I can't do this tonight, Venetia," you tell her coldly. It's a strange feeling, to hear her protest, to hear her almost beg for you to just look at her, but you can't do this tonight. After Eddie, you'd iced her out for the rest of that Summer, but she'd seemed contented; she'd won against Felix and so you were not required to keep her entertained. You'd never stood up to Venetia in any way that mattered before.

"Please," it comes out so small, so fragile sounding. Towel wrapped around yourself, you turn, expression hard as you're able to manage.

"Why?"

"So you do know he's lying," she mumbled uncomfortably, then, "I don't know," Venetia admits after a very long silence. Clutching the lip of the ornate tub, she looks almost like a child again, looking, for the first time in your memory, guilty.

"Is it just like last time? Taking something from Felix?" You accused, finally feeling that anger, that resentment beginning to burn in you, "was it better?" You hissed, "when you realised Ollie actually loves him? Or was it worse?"

"I thought if I could get him to look at me the way he looks at you, it'd prove he doesn't really love you," Venetia blurts out. Her gaze is on the floor, and you've gone entirely still. The next words she speaks are biting, full of frustration, "I hate him. I hate the way he looks at you. I don't care how he looks at Felix, everyone loves Felix."

Oh, there is was, unspoken behind her words. As long as Felix, and only Felix, had your heart, she knows she'll always have you around. If Oliver manages to steal your heart, she's afraid that you'll choose him, and she and Felix will both lose you. Her understanding of it all is childish at best; can't she sees that you're capable of so much more than that. You've never conformed to binary choices like that; doesn't she know you better?

"I'll never forgive you if you fall in love with him," she tells you as you reach the door.

"You'll learn to live with it."

With each step back to your room, that hollow feeling in your chest keeps gnawing at you from the inside out. Shielded from the world by only a towel, you feel, for the first time in a long time, you feel too exposed as you roam the halls of the Saltburn Estate. Farleigh had called you spineless, said you'd let Oliver break Felix's heart, and now he's gone. Venetia had so hated the idea of anyone else loving you that she'd tried to facilitate that heartbreak herself, and now you're leaving her behind. All this for Oliver Quick, for the idea of a boy who might love Felix the way you knows he deserves. But even so, Oliver had been party to Venetia's cruelty against you and Felix, had lied about it, had made you complicit when you'd seen through that lie.

Anything to make sure Felix was happy. That's how you justified your own, whether it be indirect or not, cruelty to those around you. But he'd hurt so much more in the long run; the writing was on the walls.

The moment you step into his room, he turns, surprised. He's on the balcony, half folded into one of the wicker chairs, reading and smoking and looking like a dream. Before you even say anything, he knows something is wrong. When he asks, you can't answer, moving almost robotically to change back into your pyjamas.

"I think I need to talk to Ollie," you mumbled without thinking when Felix takes your face in his hands. You barely see him, still stuck in your own head. He frowns, asks why, asks what's wrong, and the care in his voice brings you out of your trance-like state. Swallowing hard when you finally look him in the eyes, your resolve begins to crumble, "I want to know why he did what he did before I tell you," you admit, voice barely a whisper. Felix's expression darkens for a moment, and his hands move from your face to hold you by the shoulders. It grounds you, but the look in his eyes makes your heart ache.

"What did he do?"

"It's different from last time," you shook your head, already trying to soften the blow for what you're about to admit, "Ollie actually loves you, I don't know why he did it." Pressing your forehead to his shoulder, you can't bring yourself to look him in the eyes in this moment.

"What did he do?"

"I need to know why he did it," is all you can manage; you can feel yourself beginning to break, "I need to talk to him, I need to ask, I need to know, because that's the only fucking piece left; why?" Pulling back, away from him, you sink down onto the end of the bed, your face in your shaking hands.

"I know why she did it," you finally admit, "I wish I didn't, but I do. I hate her," comes out through your teeth, bitter and anguished all at once.

"Venetia?"

"They've been lying to you, Felix," you choke out, "been lying to your face, because they love you." All you can do is hope that it's true, "it's why she did it, she couldn't stand the thought of someone else loving me, because she thought if I loved him back, I'd choose him over you, and she wouldn't have me around anymore."

"Vee and Ollie?" Felix already sounds heartbroken when he whispers the words. Without looking at him, you nod. The awful, ugly truth, finally, "and you knew?"

"Ollie pretty much admitted it when I didn't believe his lie; he knows I trust Farleigh with my life," you breathed, finally looking up at him, apology in your eyes. Felix looks as though his world is crashing around him. Again, "since I was the one who saw Ven and Eddie together last year, not him." Felix's eyes go wide at this, stepping back, only to starts pacing, scrubbing his hands over his face.

"Why didn't you tell me you didn't believe him?" Felix huffs as he tries to process everything.

"Because I've been trying to find a way to make you believe that what happened isn't like last time."

"But it is!" Felix finally snaps, stopping dead, "I don't want to do this again," his voice cracks, and when he turns to you, there's tears in his eyes, "how can you say it's not?" It's almost pleading, desperate for any kind of hope.

"Because he loves you!"

Immediately, both of your eyes are on the door to the bathroom, holding your breath, fearing Ollie himself may have heard your outburst, may be listening in. You're fairly certain he's not, but your heart is still in your throat.

"I know he loves you, Felix," you finally breathe, hanging your head, "you know he loves you."

"Then why would he -"

"I don't know," you reiterate, desperately, "it's why I need to talk to him." In the quiet, Felix takes deep, shaking breaths, before he sits on the floor before you, legs crossed, his forehead braced against your knee.

"I don't want you to go through that again," you tell him softly, sincerely, carding your fingers through his soft, dark hair.

"We could run away," Felix whispers faintly, echoing words you'd spoken to him just a week ago, when you'd been first dealing with this whole situation and hadn't wanted to admit the truth then either, "like you suggested; get a flat in London, never go back to Oxford, never speak to any of them again," when he looks up, resting his chin on your knee, you see the sadness in his eyes despite his soft smile, "just us."

You both know it's an impossible dream, but still, you huff a soft laugh, your thumb brushing his cheek as you cradle his face tenderly.

"Okay, just us; that's all I'll ever need."

His smile grows just a little wider, leaning into your touch and this moment. But the moment, the idle dream, it has to come to an end. Felix's face falls once more.

"You love him," he sighs gently, mouth pressed into a thin line, "I love him, Y/N," he sounds so helplessly, "I wish I didn't, but I do. I love Oliver Quick, and he's going to break my fucking heart, isn't he?"

"He loves you too, Fi," you assured him gently, "that's why he lied, why..." you take a deep, guilty breath, "why I didn't tell you."

"What the could he even say to salvage this; you warned him about Venetia. The more I think about it, the more I- I- I fucking hate it. Them."

"I don't want you to talk to him," he tells you quietly, his voice calm and serious as he speaks over your protests, "I don't like that you had to do this, that you felt like you had to do this for me. Let me talk to him."

"Fi -"

"You make me happy," he tells you firmly, "everything you do makes me happy; you don't need to do this. Even if me talking to Oliver doesn't make you happy, at the very least, let me do what I can; I want to make sure you're never unhappy for my benefit. I want you to be happy too, I hope you know that."

All your protests die in your throat.

"I do, Fi."

"Then let me do this. This is my relationship too, you don't have to do all of this alone."

[ruinaimagines]

OMG I THOUGHT THIS ACC WAS DEAD GLAD TO SEE U BACK THO!!!!!

anywho could u write some outis x reader hcs pls

Project Moon is a chronic ailment to my brain so I am always here, lingering. I will be back. Can’t promise when I’ll be back but it will be eventually.

Outis x Reader Headcanons:

This is a woman who has been through a lot, done a lot too. Not all things she may see as warranting forgiveness. She is saddled with a personal sense of responsibility to see things to the end even if it takes sacrifice. 

But she is loyal, deeply so, fiercely so. And should she place trust in you then so too will she abide by your will. She has an undeniable sense of faith for those who she believes even if some of their suggestions or ideas.. Are not the ones she would find herself making.

Outis is used with working in high-caliber strictly professional settings where everything is meticulously planned out. This makes for her sociability to be a bit difficult with those she considers inept.

She aims to impress and this no doubt extends to you. High-strung in public everything must be perfect, whatever outings you have she has organized and outlined them so you can’t even fathom a moment of concern.

She wants everything to be up to par for you which often means that people aren’t free from her scrutiny. While this might work well in a work setting, it can extend outside and to times when it’s not necessary. 

What she does comes from the genuine hope of making things more enjoyable for you but it can be a bit much. It can end up making things more stressful when she is so focused on managing the menial things and holding others to absurd standards –not even for herself, but for you.

However she will listen when you tell her to stand down. Once again it isn’t malicious just misguided. 

There is an incredibly homely and domestic quality to her that comes more naturally when it is just you two. A refuge where after the long day’s work, after all is said and done, she can return to the hearth that you offer.

You’ll find that her cooking is better than what you can find at restaurants anyway. We know from the Hell’s Chicken event that she prepares food from the heart, and there is nothing as cozy as a homecooked meal. It allows her to be more relaxed and whatnot when away from the buzz of people.

Not to say that her confrontational nature is always a bad thing. If people are treating you rudely, or you are off-put or uncomfortable by something there is not a universe where she’d sit by idly. 

If you are adverse to conflict yourself it can be incredibly difficult to speak up and let people down easily. This is not even a thought that crosses her mind. Someone is heckling you? Damn right it might lead to conflict, but there is no justification in her mind for you to be treated poorly like this. People are often dissuaded or give up once they see how undeterred she is.

She doesn’t experience anxiety when she is stepping in for you because she sees it as a reasonable action. That said, you might be a bit anxious and fear escalation. If you communicate this to her, even if she doesn’t fully understand why, she will tone it down a notch.

That doesn’t mean she will do nothing, but you can rest knowing that perhaps with a derisive comment towards them sprinkled in here or there that she will acquiesce and leave with you. 

I do believe that there is little that you could do that would stop making her love you. It is unconditional because she has done many awful things, and yet you love her still. She doesn’t believe herself to be entirely worthy of the love you give, but she will vow to return it. 

I do not think Outis would be overly affectionate in the traditional sense when it comes to in public or in front of those she knows. It’s not a case of being embarrassed by it, but more of an act of safety. A woman with a history like hers means one who has been in many situations where loved ones can be held at a point of ransom. Wouldn’t be surprised if she had quite a few enemies.

The sinners would probably think you were more of a superior than her partner, funny enough. But seeing how much more relaxed you are with her, and even physically affectionate it sort of clues them in.

Might become a point of teasing for some of the more devious sinners, but they would quickly learn not to. It’s one thing to face a lecture on their inadequacy from her, it’s entirely another to bring up her personal life. There’s a sense of immediate wrongdoing and foreboding that most would rather not experience again.

There is an unmistakable tenderness in her regard to you. Every action she does is another pledge to you. For as much as she would do for you, she greatly enjoys acts of service in return. Take her coat off her shoulders, brew her some tea, maybe even draw a relaxing bath, do what work you can for her so that she doesn’t have to worry.

Outis�� time spent with you is one she can unwind in, a seldom opportunity otherwise. To say she would be appreciative when you try to support this is an understatement. 

I’m sorry I just thought about her coming home with flowers for you and a tear came to my eye. I can see it. After trudging through the day and poor weather at last she returns with a bouquet. It’s nothing super extravagant, perhaps an assortment of hydrangea or whatever your favorite flower is.

Speaking of which, on her journey, I can see her returning to you with keepsakes that remind her of you. Most of these are picked up when she’s trailing behind the others and are stored safely in her room until she sees you next.

You can not tell me this woman doesn’t have a little locket with your picture in it. She’s viewing that thing periodically and it helps remind her why she is doing what she is doing.

Anything you give her that she can smuggle onto Mephistopheles or herself she will hold tight. Not the superstitious type, but finds your gifts to bring some kind of prosperity even if it’s logically because of a shift of mindframe.

I can’t help but think her hands would be very nice to hold, they are worn and weathered, but she has a firm grip, a grounding one. 

Overall a very devoted person though her actions might be more prominent than words. You help defuse what irritation she might have from the day and instead sink into a sense of security, and she commits to giving you that same security.

[bluesest]

A Football prank

Today is the big day, the big game that will decide the future of several young athletes will be about to start, the field full of fans from different schools will see which team will be the one to take the victory. However, the poor decisions of four athletes will be an obstacle to the big trophy.

Mikey was a nerdy young student, he was always the best in the classes with the best grades which made him an easy target for the bullies on duty:

Kenny: A rather gentle black boy, he doesn't like problems off the field, however, thanks to his friends he gradually took on a bully role. Moderately muscular and the shortest of the four friends.

Devin: The most muscular of all, he is relaxed and likes to annoy those he calls "nerds", he is passionate about everything that is sporty and especially uniforms that make him highlight certain parts of his body to try to be more attractive.

Tyler: The most attractive of the whole team, tall, blond and with blue eyes who causes several girls to go after him, even if he doesn't pay attention to him. He has an organized personality and likes to play pranks on his friends.

Jake: The most masculine of them all, he has a small beard and a seductive and dominant look, he is competitive and his favorite hobby is annoying nerds or his own brother.

This group of athlete friends never miss any training and much less the sporting events organized by their school, always giving their all on the field, however, that is not the only thing they do.

Mikey was his favorite nerd, where he meets that group who laugh out loud while making cruel jokes on him, where he often ends up penniless and on the verge of a mental breakdown, but this time he won't allow them not to get any punishment for what they've done to him and other students.

Using his intelligence and his contact which is his best friend who is also on the football team, he put together a rather cruel but fair plan.

On the day of the grand finale between two rival schools, Mikey will put an extra-strong, fast-acting laxative in his bullies' energy drinks, while his best friend will deliver those drinks to them so that there is no suspicion on their part, a perfect plan.

Finally the big day arrived and the plan went perfectly, the four drinks were loaded with laxative which its flavor would be camouflaged by the sweetness of the liquid. The boy offered the drinks to the group: "You are our hope, here are 4 drinks for 4 stars", and without thinking twice they took the whole content in one gulp, the group had the same opinion: "delicious"

And in the blink of an eye they were already on the field with the eyes of everyone around them. The first minutes were of pure calm if we talk about their stomachs since the rival school team were difficult opponents to beat, several with great musculature, speed and endurance, the united strength of the team was required to be able to beat them and take the victory, but their union would not last long.

Thanks to the frenetic nature of the sport, the boys' stomachs began to tremble, a chilling sensation filled their bodies that were already beginning to sweat.

Kenny:

As he was chasing the ball he began to feel a persistent and uncomfortable gurgling, each step he took bounced his stomach and intestines causing the effect to start much faster than expected.

*GRRRRRRRRRRR*

"Ugh, I feel really bad"

Another gurgling caused him to slow down as he grabbed his sore stomach which begged for mercy and a moment out of physical activity.

*GRRRRRR* *GRRRRRRRR*

"Fuck, my... Stomach... oh no..."

*PPPPFFFFFFTTTTTTT*

A loud fart came out of his butt frantically making his buttocks collide that by then remained tight not only because of the stress of the match, but also because of the sensation he felt inside him, a liquid made its way through his stomach wanting to reach his large intestine as quickly as possible.

*PFFTFTFTFTFTFT* *PRRRRR*

"I don't think I can hold on a little longer..."

*GRRRRRRRR* *PRRRRRRRRRRRR*

"I just have to wait for the first half to end, that's all..."

*GRRRRRRR*

"Nope, I definitely can't!"

He decided to stop following the ball to turn around and head towards the public bathrooms of the field, however, before he even reached the halfway point, an opponent pushed him with all his strength, he had unintentionally entered his territory, the rival was almost twice as heavy as Kenny which caused him to fall to the ground and almost lose consciousness.

*SQHHSQHSQHQSSQSQSQ*

A terrible sensation made him regain consciousness, the squeeze of buttocks was interrupted by that thrust and made him lose control of his intestines letting a small fraction of the diarrhea escape to crash into his pants.

His skin changed tone to a pale one, his eyes turned white while the smell flooded his nose, however, he had not lost hope as it was not so much diarrhea and at least he had released some pressure.

Before heading back to the bathroom he saw how his other friends were going in different directions, Kenny didn't know why, but he wasn't interested when he has his own problems to solve.

Despite the shouts of his coach, he ignored it and finally reached the public bathroom in the middle of the game.

"I don't have time to wait for the break in the first half"

It was rare to see star players leave the field even though the game was still on, so several people set their sights on the 4 friends, although some were out of sight.

Kenny finally arrived at the public toilet which was actually a portable toilet, he tried to open the door, but it was locked, plus a disgusting smell came out of there, what was missing, is occupied.

Kenny began to knock frantically on the door, but a thick voice caused him to freeze in the moment: "Hey! Your little boy stops knocking on the door" was the voice of the director, "I'm done and I'm cleaning myself, but if you want to come in when I leave I'll tell you that I've eaten hot wings so it will be your responsibility"

In desperation, Kenny began to jump frantically using one hand to hold his stomach and the other to cover his anus and try to keep nothing from coming out of there, but his efforts were in vain.

Just as the director opened the door, a thunderous noise was present.

*PFPPFTPPTFTTFFTPFPPFTTFF*

His body could not take it anymore and decided to evacuate everything inside.

*SQHSQHQHHSHSHSHQHSQSQS* *PPPPPPRRRRRRRRRRR* *TRRRRRRRRR* *SHQHSHSQHSHSQHSHSQHSQHSQ* *GRRRRRRR*

When he looked up, he saw the director with a stunned look and then changed to a mocking smile: "Ha! Wow but if you're Kevin, a lot of students spoke very badly about you, but I think they omitted the smell part."

Kevin pulled the director aside and locked himself in the smelly bathroom and sat down in the sweaty, hot seat.

*TRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTR* *KSQKQSKSKQ* *PFFFFTFTFTFTFTF* *SQHQSHSQHHSSHHQSQHSQQQS*

"Incredible, and I thought that when I drink beer and eat wings I destroyed the toilets, I can't believe that one of the stars of the team has shit on his pants, I will leave you alone"

*HQSHQSHSHQSHQHSHQS* *SHSHSHHSSHHSHSHSHS* *PFTFTFTFTFTFTFF* *PLOP* *PLOP* *PLOP* *PLOP*

Finally there was a moment of calm for Kenny, he saw with sadness his white pants full of brown shit, he looked up with still sweat and thought "I hope my friends are winning..." 

Devin:

Of all his team he was the most brusque to play so the effects didn't take long... *GRRRRRRRRRRRRRR*

His pace began to slow down while his stomach only accelerated its movement while several farts came out of him.

*PFFFTTT* *PFFFTTTT* *PPFFTT*

His farts were submachine gun type, in other words, small but quite loud, each fart combo increased the weight Devin felt in his stomach until that weight went to his rectum where he hated to feel a thick diarrhea that could barely allow the fart to escape to relieve the pressure.

"It can't be! Why now?"

He stopped for a moment in the middle of the court, held his stomach, lifted his butt in the air and let out a big, powerful fart.

*PPPPPFFFFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFT*

"Hahaha, that was a tremendous one..."

*GRRRRRRR* *PPPPFFFFTTTTT*

"But releasing it didn't make me feel better... I don't think I can wait for the first half to end..."

*PPPFFFFFTTTTTTTT*

"I need to find a bathroom soon..."

He turned his gaze to the only portable toilet on the field, but unfortunately he saw how a tall man in a suit entered, leaving him with no options.

"Fuck! I think I'll keep farting a couple more to relax my stomach."

*PFFFTTTT* *PPPFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTF* *PFFFTT* *SQQSHH*

"Oh no... that was a wet one... I definitely won't be able to go on like this."

With regret in his heart and year he decided to leave the game aside despite the shout of the other members of the team, before leaving the place he turned his gaze back and saw how his other friends were heading to different places.

He ran as fast as his current condition allowed, every step he took he could feel how little by little liquid tried to escape from his ass, he was near the school until a violent gurgling stopped him followed by several farts one after another.

*PPPFFTTFTF* *PPFTFTFTF* *PFPTPPPTTP* *PFPPTPFFPTP* *PPPPFFTFTFTFTF*

"I can't take it anymore!"

He went to some bushes that were near him, took off his tight pants and his helmet to bend more comfortably preventing his butt from rustling the leaves of that bush.

*PPPPPFPFFPFPFTFTFTFTFTFTTFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTT*

A gigantic fart came out of his bare butt first, announcing something impressive.

*QRQRQRQRQRQRQRQRQRQRQRQRQR*

A gigantic trunk made its way through the rectum out of Devin's tired anus as he began to sweat.

"Ufff Ufff Ufff"

*QRQRQRQRQRQRQRQRQRQR* *SPLASH*

He finally came out, it looked about the size of a human arm, that took some of Devin's gut pain away and he thought he just had to evacuate that big trunk, but he was wrong.

*GRRRRRRRRR*

"Oh no again"

*PSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS* *SQHHSHQSHSHQQSHSHQSQHQSQHQS* *TRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTR* *SHQHSQHSQHQHSQSQQSQQSQ* 

A torrent of liquid diarrhea came out of his body, apparently that solid poop served as a cork to stop the diarrhea that was generated in his stomach, perhaps that was the reason why he could fart without worrying so much.

*PPFTFTFTFTFT* *SHQHSQHSHSQHSQHQSS* *PFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFT* *PPPPRRRRRRRRRR* *TTTTSSSSSSSSSSSS*

The second round was even more violent than the previous one as the shit that fell to the ground began to splash and reach longer distances, staining Devin's favorite shoes a bit.

*QSHSHHSHSHSQHSQHSQHSQHSQSQSQSQSQ *TRTRTRTRTRTRTR* *PFTTFTFTFTFTFF* *GRRRRRRRR*

With another diarrheal explosion and the exit of another small log, Devin's intestines managed to calm down enough to regain his composure.

"Phew, I think it was enough for now... Fuck! I've completely forgotten that I don't have toilet paper!"

He began to despair and frantically looked around not only to look for something to clean himself with but also someone who had witnessed what happened, in the end he had some luck to remember that he had just defecated in a bush full of leaves.

With his bare and sweaty hands he began to remove some leaves and began to rub them against his disastrous butt, he gently tapped while the stress was leaving.

After 5 minutes, he finally got up, he had used several leaves that were left on the ground trying to cover the diarrhea and that trunk to hide what had happened there, but that was not the end of Devin's problems as he began to feel a slight tingle.

"I think having gone through so much stress made my hands go a little numby and the... butt?"

Under his gaze and saw his red hands, the slight tingling changed to an annoying and irritating itch that unfortunately not only affected his hands, but also his already battered butt.

He began to scratch frantically only causing a worse reaction, the turn to that bush to realize that he had just cleaned his butt with poison ivy.

As he jumped in pain as he felt irritation about to invade his balls, he wondered, "Where have my friends gone?"

Tyler:

He stood on the sidelines of the team and waited for a chance to take the ball and as he was about to touch it a big blast of air came out of his butt.

*PPPFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTF*

He immediately knew that it was no ordinary fart, he felt that a couple of drops came out of his butt and it was not exactly sweat.

He froze for a moment while the rival team regained possession of the ball, and suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder that brought him out of the trance:

I read: "Hey! You have missed that golden opportunity to take advantage of them"

It was Leo, a moderately muscular man and the newest member of the team who also showed a great talent for football, even if he lacks practice. Leo noticed the sweat on Tyler's forehead as he kept a blank stare and asked:

Leo: "Are you okay?"

Tyler reacted immediately and tried to pretend he didn't feel sick by giving a big, somewhat forced smile while saying "Don't worry."

Leo wanted to continue talking to him, but Tyler decided to leave to follow the ball again, he could not disappoint the team or his friends, he also has a new concern thanks to Leo who always proved to be insistent on helping others, almost as a talent he can know when a person is bad both physically and mentally, in addition, it seems that Leo cared more about Tyler than all the other members of the team. 

10 minutes of a great marathon passed behind the ball, but little by little his stomach became heavier causing him to lose speed and little by little he was left behind, the stomach pain was so much that for every 5 steps a fart escaped more and more violent and wet.

*PPPFTFTFTFT* *PPPFTFTFTFTFTFTF* *PPFFTFT*

"Damn! There is still a long way to go before the end of the first half"

*GGGRRRRRRRR* *PPPFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFT*

"Maybe I can ask the coach for a rest and be able to go to the portable stadium toilet...*GRRRRR* but it would be very embarrassing because I know that the diarrhea I'm going to have will not be normal and you can hear it for miles"

*PPPFFFFFTTTTTTT*

"But I really need to sit on the porcelain right now..."

He stopped running and stayed in the middle of the court holding his stomach ache.

*PPFTFTTFTFTF* *PPPFTFTTF* *PPFPFFTFTFTFTTF* *PPPFTFTTFTFTFT*

Meanwhile Leo continued to give his all in the game, although he could not get Tyler out of his head, when he lost sight of the ball he turned his gaze to Tyler who was lying standing with his eyes up.

Tyler realized that Leo was watching him and ran again to avoid suspicion... A terrible mistake.

*PPPFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTF* *SQQSHH*

His stomach was losing the battle, it stopped abruptly as another flurry of wet farts came out of him.

*PPFTFTFTFTFTFTF* *PPFTFTFTFT* *PPPFTFTFTFTFT* *PPFTFTFT*

Tyler definitely lost control of the situation, he started frantically looking everywhere to look for the portable toilet on the court, but he just saw how the door closed abruptly, he had no choice but to try to get to the school bathrooms, something impossible at that time.

As he ran off the field, he saw his group of friends separate and walk away from the field, but he didn't think it was important.

Leo saw the scene from afar, saw how 4 of the team's sports stars were urgently leaving the place and decided to follow Tyler to see if he was okay.

Tyler, already halfway away from the big show, was frantically looking for a shortcut to the bathroom or in the worst case a large bush to hide his butt and his diarrhea, but before deciding his fate, a scream caught his attention.

"TYLER!"

It was Leo's voice who was running after him.

Leo: "What happened to you? Because you decided to flee the party"

Tyler: "I wasn't running away, I was just going to do something I forgot..."

Leo: "So why didn't you wait for the first half to end instead of abandoning the team?"

Tyler: "I don't..."

*PPPFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTF*

A loud fart was present, Leo was stunned while Tyler was totally blushing with embarrassment.

*PPFTFTFTF* *PPFTFTFT* *PPPPFFFTTT*

Tyler quickly took off his pants and grabbed his helmet to use as a makeshift toilet, he might as well shit on the floor, but he didn't want Leo to see his naked ass and penis while he was flushing a large fountain of natural chocolate, plus there was no bush nearby to cover it.

*QSHHQSHSQHSQHSQHQHSHSHSQSQS* *PPPFTFTFTFTFTFTFT* *PRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR*

As expected, the first shock was violent, Tyler tried not to moan, but it was impossible.

*PPPFTFTFTFTFTFTFTTF* *TRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTR* *GHRGHRGHRHR* *PSSSSSSSSSSSSS*

Leo saw the scene not with disgust, in fact, it was the best thing that had happened to him in his life, he was gay in the closet and his crush was Tyler but he could not confess it for fear of rejection, but finally he could observe his large naked body although it was not the best of situations.

*SQHSQHHQSHQHSQHSQHSHQSHQS* *PSSSSSSSSSSSS* *PRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPR* *SQSHHHHHHH* *PFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTF* *SHHHHHHHHHHHHH*

Tyler finally looked back at Leo, while he tried to hide his erection.

I read: "I'm so sorry! I didn't know you needed to go to the bathroom!"

Tyler: "You look more blushing than me, this is so embarrassing ugh" *PFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFF*

Leo: "Do you need help?"

Tyler: "What do you think? *SHQHSHQSHQHSQHSQHS* I'm naked outdoors while my ass discharges all the food of an entire year..." *SHQSHSHQHSHQHSHQHSQHSQHSQHSQ* *PPPRRRRRRRRRRR* *SHHSHQHSHQHSQHSHQHSHQSSQSQSQ*

Leo took off his shirt and covered Tyler's body while he couldn't help but laugh to stop feeling embarrassed.

Tyler: "Come to think of it, you and I don't know each other very well, how about we get out of these someday?"

Leo: "Like a date?"

Tyler: "If you look at it like that, hahaha *SQHSHHQSHQHSHQSHSQHSQHS* by the way, could you get toilet paper? I heard that a lot of poison ivy grows in these places..."

I read: "Sure! And by the way... Your friends also fled the party, what do you think happened to them?"

Tyler: "No idea" *PPPFFFTTT*

Jake:

He demonstrated his dominance in the sport every minute of the game and had kept the ball for quite some time while strategizing to score points.

But his movements began to lose power and his brain had a hard time even formulating a thought other than his butt in the toilet.

*GRRRRRRRRRRR*

"Damn! Maybe it was this morning's coffee? But that only makes me fart..."

*PPFTFTFTFTFTFTTF*

"Well, that was one, but... the farts in the café are not wet and neither are they..."

*GRRRRRRR*

"It makes me want to go to the bathroom"

Jake kept trying to focus on the match, but his ass couldn't handle that much pressure and he needed to release it urgently, so while he ran his butt focused on loosening his buttocks a little and giving way to the foul smell.

*PPFTFTF* *PPPFTFTFTFT* *PPFFFFTT* *PRRRRRR*

With each passing minute, his farts became more violent and wet, so much so that even his underpants began to get damp not only with sweat.

"There is still a long way to go before the end of the first half..."

*GGGGRRRRRRR*

"Fuck this, if I don't get to a bathroom soon, my pants will go from white to brown."

He went to the only portable toilet in the place, however, he saw an adult in a suit enter, Jake yelled to stop, but his pleas were not heard.

"Shit! Now what do I do? I think I will be able to resist a little longer to get to the school bathrooms, but... they are really disgusting"

*GGRRRRRRRRRR*

"It's true! My house is close to here, if I run I will be able to use my bathroom and avoid going through embarrassing moments"

Without thinking twice, Jake decided to leave the game and his friends, but first he looked back to see how they were doing and apparently they were all heading to different places.

His diet was quite rough, he often went through whole days of constipation, so his stomach was strong enough to withstand the large amount of fluids in his rectum until he reached his house.

As he ran, his buttocks lost more of the pressure they were exerting on the anus, so several wet farts escaped.

*PPFTFTFTTFTF* *PFTFTTF* *PRRRRR*

But the effort and his wet underpants were worth it when he got home, he went in and went up to the second floor and tried to open the door of the only bathroom in the house, but it was locked.

*TOCK* *TOCK*

"Is there anyone here?"

Behind the door was his younger brother Jhon combing his hair, when he heard his brother's voice he was surprised because he had an extremely important game which had not ended. 

Jake: "Open the door for me please! It's urgent!"

Jhon: "Aren't you supposed to be in a game or something?"

Jake: "I know! But I had to abandon it because something I ate fell very badly on my stomach, I'm about to on myself!"

Jhon was about to open the door, but he remembered that this morning he played a practical joke on him at breakfast, when he asked Jake for the sugar he gave him the salt, something that ruined his breakfast, plus it always bothers him.

Jhon: "Well, go to some bush or something, I'm busy here"

Jake: "Open the damn door! Or I'll right here and make you clean it up!"

Jhon: "You wouldn't dare, and even if you forced me I wouldn't do it, besides our parents getting very angry"

Jake: "Please! I feel like it's already coming out!" 

*PPFTFTFT* *PPFTFTFTFTFTFT* *PPFTFTFTFT* *PPFFFFTTTTT* 

Jhon: "HAHAHAHA"

Jake: "Listen to that!"

Jake started jumping while both of his hands were covering his anus to prevent a terrible accident from happening, and out of desperation he began to try to knock down the door with his elbow, like the police shows he has always liked.

Jhon was nervous, he knew his brother and his determination very well and he was afraid that he would break the door and his parents would scold both of them if that happened, so he decided to make one last joke and waited for Jake to get the urge to knock on the door again, when that happened, Jhon opened the door causing Jake to fall to the bathroom floor.

*PPPFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTF* *SQSHH*

Jake: "!"

Jhon: "All yours bro"

Jhon left the bathroom without closing the door to annoy Jake even more, meanwhile Jake didn't care at all and began to undress and after a long day sit on the precious toilet.

*QRQRQRQRQRQRQRQRQRQRQRQRQRQRQR* *PLOP*

The first round was a gigantic log due to his constipation, but that was only the beginning.

*SHQHSQHSHHQSHSHQSHQSSQSSQ* *PPFTTFTFTFTTF* *TRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTR* *SQHHSQHSHQSHQHSQHSHSQHQ* *PPPFFFTTTTTPPPPPPFFFFFTTTT*

Several farts followed by wet shit came out of him, his anus finally exploded which became quite obvious to Jhon who was on the first floor of the house who sneered: "In the end you made a great note on the toilet and not in the game!"

Jake: "Shut up!"

*PPFTFTFTFTFTFTF* *SHSHQHQSHQHSQHQHSQSQS* *PPPSSSSSS* *PPFTFTFTFTFF* *TRTRTRTRTRTR* *PLOP* *PLOP* *PFFTTT* *SQSHHHHHHHHHH*

More runny diarrhea came out of him, even with the door open the bathroom couldn't shake the nauseating smell that Jake emanated.

*PSSSSSSSSSS* *PFTFTFTF* *PSSSSSSSS* *TRTRTRTRTRTTRT* *PPSSSSSSSSS* *QHSHQSHQSHQHSQHSQHSQHSQSQSS* *PPSSSSSSSS* *PFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTF*

Another round caused his stomach to shrink to try and get everything out of his system.

*PLOP* *PLOP* *PLOP*

More small logs came out of his anus, apparently it was not a good idea to eat so much protein for the game.

*QHHSHQSHSQHSHQSHQSHSHQSHQSHQS* *PFTFTFTFTFTFTF* *TRTRTRTR* *QSHQHSHQSHQSHQHSQHSQHSQHSQ* *PPFTFTFTFTFTF*

Jake: "Wait a minute... the match! *PFTFTF* completely forgot, and also... where were my friends going?"

After 20 minutes, Jake was returning to the game, in the distance he saw the coach quite angry yelling at Tyler and Leo, Jake tried to return home to avoid the coach yelling at him, but it was too late, he had already noticed Jake's presence.

After 10 minutes of screaming and being ejected from the game, the three teammates found themselves talking about what happened and Jake questioned Tyler about why he fled the game, he did not give him an answer and asked the same to Jake who did not answer either, now the only unknown in all this was to know where Kenny and Devin went.

PS: The following story will be the winner of the votes: "A Roman Public Toilet"

[vodika-vibes]

Hey, Vod'ika!! I'm in an Echo mood lately.

What about a fic where the reader has been with the batch since before the Empire and the reader and Echo got together round about the time of Order 66. The reader decides to join Rex's rebellion which Echo doesn't mind in fact he loves seeing you everyday. But after taking down Tantiss, Echo notices how you talk to the batch and how you just seem to fit in well on Pabu, so Echo gets an overbearing feeling that he's holding you back from an ordinary life so you have to reassure him that your home is wherever he is. ❤

Wouldn't Change A Thing

Summary: You’re always happy to get to visit your boys, and spending a week on Pabu is always a treat, but when you return to the fight with Echo after this most recent visit, he’s quieter and more withdrawn. And you’re worried.

Pairing: TBB Echo x F!Reader

Word Count: 1117

Warnings: None

A/N: This fic is soft, though I'm setting it in a perfect TBB AU where Tech is still alive. Because I'm a writer and I'm allowed to delude myself like that. (Though, he's actually not mentioned in this story). Anyway, I hope you like it!

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

You stretch your arms over your head with a groan as you step out of the fresher and into the suite you share with Echo. As much as you love visiting Pabu, and seeing your boys, sometimes you feel like you need a vacation to recover from your vacation.

Honestly, Hunter can be so exhausting sometimes. And that’s even with him mellowing out since Omega came into his life.

You’re so glad you’re not their handler anymore.

You stretch a little more and grimace when the sunburn on your shoulders pulls uncomfortably. It’s fine, you’ll have Echo put aloe on your back before bed.

Speaking of said man—

Your gaze sweeps across the room. He’s not sitting on the couch, and the bedroom door is propped open, so you can see that he’s not in there either. Then you hear the familiar sound of dishes clinking together, so you turn and poke your head into the kitchen.

Echo’s back is to you, but you’d be surprised if he didn’t know that you were there. For a moment, you watch the muscles ripple across his back, and a tiny smile lifts your lips as you lean your head against the door frame.

Maker, you love him so much.

Echo pauses, and turns his head slightly, “You’re staring.”

“Mm, yeah,” You say through an adoring sigh.

He rolls his eyes and flings a damp washcloth at you. It smacks your chest and falls into your hand, “I’m hardly worth staring at.”

“Agree to disagree, my darling~”

“Cyare.”

“My beloved.” You continue with a grin as you cross the room to stand next to him, “My only. My—” Your words become muffled when he presses his hand over your mouth.

“Hush, you.”

There’s color high on his cheeks, and you giggle in delight. Something softens on his face at the sound of your giggle and he moves his hand from your mouth just enough that he’s able to caress your jaw. 

“You’ve got a sunburn,” Echo notes as he lightly brushes his scomp across the burn on the back of your neck and upper shoulders. 

“Yeah, I’ll need you to help me with some aloe later,” You reply absently as you rub your cheek against the palm of his hand, “If you don’t mind.”

“Oh no, the love of my life wants me to massage lotion into her skin. Whatever shall I do?” He counters, deadpan.

“How is it that you become more sarcastic after spending time with the boys?” You marvel.

“It’s a defense mechanism for having to deal with little brothers.”

You laugh and reach up to cup his face, “Well, I like it when you’re sarcastic.”

“Only because it means that you can be sarcastic right back at me,” He teases with a tiny smile, though the smile fades as he scans your face.

“Echo? What’s wrong?” You ask him, with a tilt of your head.

“You looked pretty happy on Pabu.” He murmurs.

“I mean, sure. Who’s not going to be happy to be able to lie on a beach with a fruity drink?”

“You seem to fit in well there,” Echo continues, “And the others were so happy to see you. And you were happy to see them.”

“Honestly, I’m not convinced that they’re able to survive without me,” You whisper up to him like you’re sharing a secret. “I think Crosshair lost weight, can you believe that!?”

“Cyare,” The affectionate pet name is murmured through a sigh, and you drop your hands from his cheeks, so you’re able to wrap your arms around his neck.

“What’s wrong, Echo? Talk to me.”

“I love that you’re here. I love waking up and seeing you every day.” Echo says slowly, “But, cyare, if you’d be happier on Pabu. I can take you back. You don’t have to stay here.”

You blink at him, struck mute by his words.

Slowly your arms drop from around his neck and you take half a step back, you can’t think when you’re wrapped around him like that. “Echo,” You speak slowly, “Do you want me to leave?”

Echo draws you back into his arms. Unlike you, he thinks more clearly when you’re in his arms. “Never. I want you here, in my arms, all of the time.” He presses his nose into your hair, his voice soft right by your ear, “But if you’re not happy here, then I’ll let you go in a heartbeat.”

Well, that’s what it is to love someone, isn’t it? If you love them, really and truly love them, you’ll want them happy. Even if it means that they’re not with you.

A soft sigh falls from your lips and you turn your head slightly so you’re able to kiss the side of his head, “Have I ever implied that I’m not happy here?” You ask.

“No, but I know you. You’d downplay a fatal injury if you worried it was going to be an inconvenience.” Echo replies.

You wrap your arms tightly around him again, “Then allow me to be blunt,” You trail light fingers across his skin, tracing the scars that show you that your love is a survivor, “Yes, I like Pabu. And yes, I like seeing my boys.”

He tenses slightly, his arms tightening.

“But, Echo, I am happier on Pabu when you are there. And I am happier spending time with the boys when you are with me.” He pulls back slightly, so he’s able to look you in the eye, and you continue with a small smile, “My place, Echo, is wherever you are. Be it here, or Pabu, or a moisture farm on Tatooine.”

“Cyar’ika—”

“And I wouldn’t change a single thing.” You pause, “Well, maybe I’d change the whole rise of the Empire thing, but that’s the only thing I’d change!” You inch closer to him so that you’re pressed flush against his body, “I love you, Echo. And I will stay here, with you, until you get tired of me.”

“It’ll never happen.” Echo replies as he bumps his forehead against yours.

“Are you sure? I can be really annoying.”

“The most aggravating woman I’ve ever met,” Echo agrees, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head, “But I wouldn’t change you for all of the credits in the galaxy.”

“Good.”

Any further conversation is unnecessary, as Echo’s lips catch yours in a deep kiss and he starts walking you back towards the bedroom. “I should get the aloe,” He murmurs against your lips, “Something something good boyfriend.”

“You just want to be a pervert,” You accuse.

“Those aren’t mutually exclusive.” He laughs against your jaw, as he kicks the bedroom door shut.

@imabeautifulbutterfly

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[bigcutiebonnie]

So if someone who is just out living their life and they happen to see you and recognize you, you consider that stalkerish? That seems insanely delusional. The world isn't just for you

No I don’t consider that stalkerish. When someone bombards me with messages telling me how they saw me & what I was doing, wearing, where I was, THAT IS. And of course these conversations always tend to turn sexual, it makes me uncomfortable & I am allowed to voice that & feel that. It does NOT make me delusional.

If someone sees me & sends a one off nice message, ok cool, but that never happens. So, as I said before, I prefer to not receive any msgs if someone were to see me🤷‍♀️

[himasgod]

Gorou x Reader

Where he is very tired after the war and you convince him to relax

(This is a short one shot that I wrote in some free time! I'm studying a lot and finishing all the requests I have, which I love and I'm putting a lot of love into, so in the next few days they will be published! In the meantime, enjoy this Gorou one)

The war was over, and peace was slowly beginning to settle in Watatsumi. The sea, which had once been the scene of so many battles, now stretched out serenely and almost carefree. However, despite the calm, there were still open wounds in those who defended their home, and especially in those who led the battle on the front line.

The sun was setting when you found Gorou in a secluded corner, next to one of Watatsumi's high cliffs. There, the general was meticulously checking his equipment, a task that seemed more of a routine to avoid thinking about anything else. The sea breeze ruffled the fur on his tail, which already looked somewhat messy from time. He didn't notice your presence right away, so focused was he on his own thing.

"Gorou," you called quietly, but enough for him to look up.

Seeing you, a small smile appeared on his lips, although his eyes reflected an exhaustion that he couldn't hide. For days, ever since the end of the battles, you had watched as Gorou kept himself busy, helping the soldiers reorganize, checking inventory, and making sure everyone was taken care of. But he rarely allowed himself a break.

“Ah, what are you doing here? Did you need something?” he asked, trying to maintain that firm, friendly tone he used with everyone.

Yet you knew his gaze, you knew his essence beyond that title of undefeated general. You moved a little closer, unhurriedly, and sat down beside him on the edge of the cliff, from where the entire expanse of Watatsumi could be seen, bathed in the last glow of the sun.

“I’ve noticed that you haven’t taken a break for days,” you commented softly. “You always worry about everyone else, but… who worries about you?”

Gorou lowered his gaze, his lips slightly pursing. It was so characteristic of him to downplay his own needs that you almost expected an evasive answer. However, after a few moments, he sighed and let himself fall back a little, supporting himself on the ground with his hands.

“Sometimes I think that, as a leader, I have no right to rest. My soldiers have been through so much… How could I relax while they are still recovering?” he admitted, his tone barely a whisper, as if he trusted that only you would hear him.

You looked at him, seeing that young who, despite his insecurities and the doubts that arose in the most difficult moments, had proven to be a true pillar for everyone. His humility and dedication were what had inspired his men to continue fighting, and yet here he was, unable to allow anyone to worry about his own well-being.

“Gorou,” you murmured, and he turned his head to you, “you are somebody too. Even if you carry the weight of everyone on your shoulders, you also have the right to let it go from time to time. I am here to help you, not only in battles, but in everything... you can always rely on me."

A slight blush appeared on his cheeks, and he looked away towards the sea, visibly uncomfortable. His strong and protective image was dissolving in this vulnerable moment, a facet of him that only a few could see. After a while, he spoke, his voice barely a whisper that was lost in the breeze.

"Sometimes I feel… that I am not strong enough. I have made mistakes… and I have lost companions. I don’t want anyone to go through that. But… thank you. It’s good to know that I am not alone."

You moved a little closer and placed a hand on his shoulder, a soft touch that comforted him immediately. No more needed to be said. You knew that, at that moment, he just needed someone to remind him that his value was not only in his strength, but also in his person.

The sun finally hid behind the horizon, leaving only the sound of the sea and the murmur of the wind.

And, for the first time in a long time, Gorou allowed himself to relax, by your side, knowing that he would not be alone that night.

Here is my masterlist, in case you are interested in any more of my work or want to send me a request <3

[legomonkiefics]

Hi! I don't know if you ever got this kind of request before, so if your uncomfortable or find better insperations, you can always ignore this ask!

I was thinking about the time Wukong discovers that Macaque has a baby. (Him and readers baby obv.)

And the baby is like a new born cub with its cute little fluffy face and fing tail around their dad's wrist.

Meanwhile Wukong is just like; (°Д°)

And I feel like Macaque would rub it in his face.

If you wanna do this one, you can pick the gender! I was aiming for a boy, but I know a lot of people see Mac as a 'daddy's girl's, so go wild!

(I always love reading your monkey men work)

( 🧡💛/💜🖤)

-Astro

💜🌙 Child of The Shadow — Macaque x GN Reader (As Parents) HCs 🌙💜

Genre: Fluff || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

A/N: Seemed more fitting to have Wukong just being a prevalent side character and focusing the perspective on the parents of the cub, I hope that's okay!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆˚｡⋆୨🌙୧⋆˚｡⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖

- You were going to visit Wukong today, taking Macaque along with you. He'd been far too reclusive recently, and the baby needed the fresh air and outside time

- Wukong was happy to greet you, cheerily letting you inside. He threw a few snide comments to Macaque, but froze completely when he heard a small chirp. He looked around bewildered, as there were no Flower Fruit Mountain monkies in the room

- That's when Macaque lifted up the bundle in his arms, pulling back the folds of fabric to reveal your baby. Small, fluffy, and wrapped up in a swaddle in Macaque's arms. You gladly introduced your baby to the King, who's jaw dropped immediately. Macaque took the opportunity to snark

"What, the Great Sage has never seen a fuzzy little cub before?"

"Is- where did you find them?"

"This is my kid"

"Oh, okay- WAIT HUH-?"

- Macaque kept up his teasing, as usual. He rubbed it in immediately, bringing intense attention to the fact that he was the one who managed to get a family first as some monkies trickled in to climb on the shadow warrior and sniff at the cub

- It took a bit of prodding to get Wukong to snap out of his alarm, but the King immediately swarmed over and began cooing at the cub, which prompted Macaque to step back. Wukong had hundreds of monkies on the mountain, this cub was his. And he wasn't gonna let Wukong influence them

- As usual, you had to step between them, calming down your partner as he kept protectively holding your baby. He was always very protective of you, and that energy was almost tripled for the little cub

- Once the tension was down, Macaque allowed the cub to interact with the younger monkies on the mountain, with intense supervision. Wukong was a natural with kids, guiding the monkies into safe activities. You stayed behind to comfort your mate

"It's alright, you know" you said, the dark furred monkey turning a little to see you. "Wukong's not gonna hurt our cub, Mac. You know that" you said further. Macaque sighed. "That cub is the most precious thing in the world to me. I think I'm allowed to be a little on edge". You chuckled, leaning on his shoulder "Of course. But relax a little, yeah? I'm right here with you". Macaque gave an appreciative small smile, leaning to rest his shoulder to yours as he kept watching your cub play

- The cub mostly stayed around you two, preferring to be held or cradled rather than playing. Macaque was happy to support the baby, letting the little fluffy bundle keep their tail wrapped around his wrist to feel safe. He gave them soothing chitters and coos to keep them calm, occasionally giving a smug look to Wukong

- On the way home, Macaque kept nuzzling and coddling his cub. You were amused seeing him be so openly affectionate, and it warmed your heart that your baby was so happy in his arms. He was smirking and chuckling a bit, still finding Wukong's sheer shock that Macaque of all demons could care for a cub very amusing. He wrapped his tail around your waist as you both walked, letting it settle in just how much he adored your little family together

[youmakethelight]

I felt every word of this in my soul. Shalaka always has the best and most thoughtful takes.

I really want to talk about the ash and carol scene where ash shouts at her. And I really want to thank Shalaka for speaking about this bc it helped me understand why I felt so uneasy about it and why I've been dreading rewatching it.

(To clarify, I have absolutely no complaints about Manish Dayal or Melissa McBride. I think they are both incredible actors, and I think they absolutely smashed their performances. My issue here is with the showrunner and the writing.)

Before I watched it myself, all I heard people say about this scene was how nice it is that Carol told the truth to Ash, and how nice it is that Daryl told her to tell him..

Well, when I watched it myself, when Ash started shouting - I wasn't okay. Carol's reaction made me feel uncomfortable in ways I really didn't understand. To be honest, I sort of zoned out while it was happening because it felt so unsettling to me. I guess my fight or flight reaction was freeze.

And I realise now that it felt so unsettling because I've spent years with Carol, knowing that she has a history of abuse, but being able to feel how far she's come. It felt like armour to know that in spite of having that history inside of her, she's built layers that feel powerful and strong in the best way.

This scene felt like it stripped and peeled all of that back, and she was raw. It hurt. But the thing is, it hurt because it felt like the men creating the show were making this happen to her. And for what payoff? For that reason, it felt humiliating actually. It felt like disrespect. And actually, it felt like men behind the camera getting to feel gratified at seeing a woman "brought down a peg or two". These are the feelings I felt, even though I couldn't articulate why it felt that way. But it did feel that way.

As for Ash shouting as he did, this shocked me. Although this is a zombie horror show, it genuinely felt more scary to me that such a kind man, who I'd spent all this time beginning to trust, reacted in such a volatile way. It reminded me of how someone you trust to never hurt you just might.

Although his words were hurtful, I could barely hear them, because I was too preoccupied by how much the shouting put me in my fight or flight (or freeze) mode. For me, without doubt, the words would have had more emotional impact without the shouting. And honestly, it just seemed out of nowhere. It seemed out of character for Ash, excessive, and there was nothing in the script that helped me understand a reason for why he reacted quite so violently. And then we just move on as if it was okay.

What did the re-creation of carol's domestic abuse even achieve? Was the showrunner just saying "see, look, I did watch parts of your stupid show, I know about the abuse, I can show you I know". It felt gratuitous because it didn't seem to achieve anything.

In "Look at the Flowers" in season 10, when carol hallucinated alpha and she hurled verbal insults at carol, we saw a glimpse of how carol's history of abuse affects her. I found that to be much more of a sensitive exploration of this topic. Within that scene, carol was given space to respond in a way that didn't regress her. It felt more like getting to learn a bit more about her and how it feels to be inside her head.

My takeaway is that men like david zabel should not be allowed to write stories about women who have been abused.

Nine Lives Two Mics (Caryl Podcast) | New Episode

🎙️Deep Dive into 204 & 205 of #TheBookofCarol🎙️

A comprehensive review of Daryl & Carol’s arc in episodes 4 & 5 of The Book of Carol.

Spotify | Youtube

This podcast was recorded before the new teaser was released, and David Zabel decided to share his "vision" again. The next podcast episode will cover all of the above and a breakdown of some of the most talked-about scenes from the TBOC finale. Keep an eye out for updates.

[coockie8]

"shapeshifting is transphobic because a trans person could never do that irl" is a take i feel ive heard before

Unironically, would not remotely shock me if you had.

"Shape shifting is transphobic because a real transgender person wouldn't be able to do that in real life" feels extremely adjacent to "Clone ships are incest because if you fucked your clone in real life you'd be basically fucking your twin".

Shape shifting and human(-like) clones are fictional tropes, you're bitching about an imaginary concept.

[floweycidal]

the whole thing's devastating in itself, but would you guys believe me if i told you this part specifically makes me so super sad

flowey doesn’t allow himself to feel the snow. not really. he won’t talk about how the cold steadies him, or how it stirs memories of simpler times. he avoids thinking about the quiet. the way the world slows down under the weight of winter, how everything feels softer, almost bearable.

the peace feels too close. too easy.

thoughts like that aren’t for him. perhaps they never were. they belong to someone else. and flowey doesn’t get to be him. not anymore.

so, instead, he ignores it. kills it in its infancy. turns away from the idea before it drags up pieces of a life he refuses to remember. he acts like happiness isn’t something that should happen to him. a mistake. an error in the system that needs to be corrected.

there’s always this jaggedness to his words, something sharp enough to keep anything tender at bay. if something feels good, he cuts it down to size—turns it bitter, spits it back out as cruelty. it’s instinct by now, as natural as breathing.

that’s what flowey does. he tears things apart before they can convince him he deserves more. after all, it’s much easier to laugh at the world than to feel it.

this is just the way things are. the way they have to be.

the softness never feels right anyway. it’s awkward, like trying to cup water in clenched fists. like touching something delicate with hands meant only to destroy.

he’s flowey. he has to be flowey. and flowey doesn’t get to savor things. he doesn’t stop to enjoy the way the snow hushes the world or let the cold bite just enough to remind him he’s alive.

he knows better.

there's almost comfort in that. in shutting things down, in turning them brittle before they can take root. it’s neat. predictable. safe. no dangerous hope worming its way into places it doesn’t belong. no warmth overstaying its welcome. just the same old ache he’s carried for as long as he can remember—steady, familiar, dull.

manageable.

because if he let something good in… what then?

would it stay? refuse to leave? would it start to matter?

would he start to matter?

flowey knows exactly who he is. the villain. the failure. the one who tried to make things right and only made it worse. if there was ever a chance to be anything else, it’s long gone. whatever good might have existed in him has been buried beneath years of mistakes, smothered by everything he couldn’t save.

he had a plan once. a way to undo it all. make things right again. but it didn’t work. he didn’t work. he couldn’t save chara. couldn't save the monsters.

couldn’t even save himself.

and this… this is what’s left.

flowey. the version of him that learned to survive by not needing anything. the one who gave up on hope, joy, and peace because letting them in would mean the walls he built were never needed at all.

it would mean that somewhere inside, there’s still something soft. something worthy.

and he doesn’t know how to live with that. he’s not even sure he wants to.

control is all that makes sense anymore. he decides when the pain comes, how much, and from whom. he decides. no one else.

he’s built everything on that control—this image of who he’s supposed to be, what he’s supposed to feel. but what if he stopped? what if he let the bitterness go? what would be left?

just asriel?

and what would that mean? that there had always been another way?

no. he can’t let that be true.

so he copes. he compartmentalizes. keeps things boxed up neatly. flowey and asriel. good. evil. pain. hope. life. death. they don’t touch. they’ll never touch. he’d lose control if they did. and control is all he has left.

he makes sure to break things down before they have the chance to become anything real. he’s always the one to close the door first—better to leave than to be left behind.

if not, he might remember what it’s like to be exposed. vulnerable. weak.

and that’s something he cannot accept. the possibility that asriel is still in there. that there’s still a way back.

that maybe… he was never as far gone as he wants to believe.

it’s almost funny, in a way, because he’s already changed, whether he knows it or not. the fact that he’s still here, still witnessing the world after everything that’s happened, proves he’s not as detached as he wants to believe.

the fighting stopped. the cycle ended. the monsters are free. and even if he won’t admit it, even if he’s not ready to come to terms with it—there’s a quiet kind of peace in that.

even so, he will dig in his heels. even so, he will play into the role in a war that’s long over. even so, he won’t let anything awaken the barest trace of what it once meant to be asriel.

he is flowey.

the snow will keep falling. it’ll land on his petals.

it doesn’t stay.

neither does he.

because it’s easier that way.