#i say as if i havent already started but have been unable to make any progress...

[soup-has-been-imprisoned-noooooo]

i love using my watercolors on non watercolor paper sometims like it makes the paper so texture

[malewifeharem]

ok but imagine sylus with a tongue piercing... why havent i seen any posts on this mdni nsfw. not proofread. fem mc

your breath hitches as you feel the cold metal of his piercing come into contact with your inner thigh. your legs are gently but firmly kept in place over his shoulders. "fuck... sy, quit teasing already..." your body feels like its been set on fire. you can feel your juices pooling between your legs and dripping onto the sheets below but you couldn't care less right now. all you can think of is the heavenly sight before you - the way you have the most wanted man in linkon - the leader of onychinus, looking absolutely debauched and feral all for a taste of you. "patience, kitten." his voice is deep and commands your obedience, and you find yourself holding back from pushing his head down nose-deep into your cunt already. he lets out an amused chuckle at the way your hips jerk up - desperate and mindless, your body betraying your mind. this is torturous, even for him - but good god, seeing you all pliant and squirmy had to be the hottest thing he's ever seen. one of his hands lets go of your thigh to slowly trail up your torso before finally giving your breast a squeeze. at the same time, sylus's head dips down to give your clit a lick, relishing in the way you immediately make your relief well-known with a loud moan. "f-fuck... oh- sylus!" your hand grabs a fistful of his hair and tugs it towards your pussy - unable to hold back the hunger for more pleasure. more of him. ever eager to please, he doesn't deny it to you. he plunges straight in - lapping up your juices as if his sole purpose in life was to satisfy you. (it is) if you weren't lost in ecstasy right now, you'd be able to see the small smirk on his face - so smug at the way he has you unraveling all for him. the contrast between the feeling of his smooth, chilling ball piercing and warm, wet tongue sends you reeling. his sharp and thick nose kisses your poor swollen clit perfectly, rubbing it just the way you needed every time you grinded against his face. "i can feel you tightening around my tongue, sweetie... does my piercing feel good, hm?" sylus says in between bated breaths - unintentionally blowing hot air onto your sloppy messy cunt. "f-fuck, sylus...! ohmygod-"

you feel an all-too familiar knot in your stomach creeping up rapidly, ready to burst at any moment.

through your teary vision and hazy mind, you notice your boyfriend's own fucked-out look - with your slick coating his entire mouth, dripping down his chin - as if he could care about that when he had a feast splayed out right in front of him. "gonna hah- c-cum... sy! 's too much- ngh- i...!" when your legs start to shake and you subconsciously move away from his tongue, you feel the constricting strings of his evol pull you back down - not letting you escape. "where do you think you're going, kitten? ngh- don't run away now..."

your eyes squeeze shut and your jaw hangs wide as you feel your orgasm crashing over - so hard and violent - you think you might not make it out alive. spurts of syrupy cum gushes out of your pussy and sylus is there to lick it all up - letting you ride out the waves of pleasure.

only when you push his head away does he stop, letting you catch your breath. when you finally come to, you notice the wet splotch on the crotch of his pants - did he really...?

"sweetie... if you keep staring, i won't be able to control myself anymore. can you bare the consequences?"

"haah... yes," you almost whine - your own hunger to please him not satisfied.

the clinking of his belt followed by the sound of his belt unzippping has you anticipating for what comes next even more - sending tingles of excitement straight to your greedy cunt.

"let me know when you're too tired to go on, pretty girl." he coos gently despite his filthy words.

"because we still have a long way to go before my hunger for you is satiated."

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 3- Easier Said Than Done

Summary: Frankie's been by your side through some of the hardest moments in your life. Three years have gone by, and now there's no one you want to see less when you find yourself at your lowest.

Word Count: 4.1K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (reader has a name/nickname)

Warnings: Angst, yearning, mentions of death, sick parent, descriptions of a panic attack, hospitals, teenage Frankie's back at it again making it impossible for us to hate him!!

A/N: Hello, my name is Madeline and I am unable to stop writing gut wrenching angst and yearning. (Hi, Madeline). Maybe one of these days I'll stop sobbing like an idiot when I write, but I fear that day may not be coming any time soon

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

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You, Spring of 2006, Age 17

Most people say it’s the smell of hospitals they can’t stand. For you, it’s the noise. The constant chaos of voices, monitors, sirens, carts clattering as they roll across the never ending linoleum floor drives you insane. Even when it’s quiet, it’s still never silent. There’s always an ever present reminder looming in the distance to not get too comfortable. The inevitable fear that something could go wrong, and have you wishing that all you had to listen to was the ambiance of continual pandemonium. 

That’s why it’s such a relief when you hear the quiet ping of your cell phone resting on the edge of your chair. It’s enough to drown out everything else for a little while. 

Frankie :)))))) 

Hey where r u?

Game starts soon and I cant find u 

Katie and Morgan said they havent seen u either 

R u ok?   

You

Yeah I’m ok. 

Dad passed out and hit his head. Mom wasn’t home so I had to take him to the ER. 

Called Coach K in the ambulance to tell her I won’t be there. 

It’s times like these that it takes everything in you to remind yourself that missing big events to keep your dad alive is better than going to big events without him being here. But when you’re decked head to toe in your soccer uniform, sitting on the edge of your seat in a crowded emergency room instead of getting ready to start the last game of your senior year, it’s hard not to feel a little bitter about it. 

You read back over Frankie’s texts as you wait for his response, doing the quick math in your brain before frantically typing back. 

You

Wait, didn’t you have to work tonight? Are you at the field? 

Frankie :)))))) 

Called off work weeks ago 

U really think I would miss ur last game? Cmon Kenz 

Guess its not a surprise anymore. Surprise! lol 

You hope the nurse passing by doesn’t notice the way you’re grinning like an idiot at your phone, biting down on your bottom lip to keep your smile from growing so wide it’ll hurt your cheeks. You re-read the last three texts over and over, your face growing warmer each time. You’re not sure why you’d expect anything less. It still never fails to make you feel like your heart is seconds away from bursting at the seams. 

Of course he came. 

So lost in your train of thought, you hadn’t seen a fourth text pop up across your screen, only the fifth text of “???” that preceded it. 

Frankie :)))))) 

R u at memorial or westwood hospital? 

??? 

You 

Memorial. Why? 

Frankie :)))))) 

Be there in 15 

You 

Frankie you don’t have to do that 

Frankie :)))))) 

2 L8! Already leaving! See u soon! 

The tears welling in your eyes were most definitely ones of relief, joy even, that Frankie cared enough to attempt to make it to a soccer game you weren’t even at, let alone forgo a night’s worth of pay to drive himself to the hospital to see you. 

Your momentary excitement comes to a sudden stop as onslaught of bodies rush into your room to examine your dad. You’re quick to realize you’ve once again been caught up in a stampede where you’re nothing but another person in the way. An invisible presences that means nothing to anyone in this room. It makes the once blissful wetness welling in the corners of your eyes start to sting with a vengeance. 

But you’ve come very quickly to learn that crying doesn’t help anyone, especially when you’re not the one dying. 

You try not to let it hurt when your mom doesn’t even acknowledge the fact you’re sporting the jersey of the team you were supposed to start playing with twenty minutes ago, like you had brought your dad to the hospital in your uniform because that and your cleats were the easiest thing to throw on before you called 911. It’s even harder to try not to scream at the fact she barely pays your presence any mind, not even so much as a ‘thank you’ for getting your dad to the hospital in one piece. What’s the most painful is that you’re positive that she, or anyone else, even notices you’re gone when you slip out the door.

You’re here so often that the hospital staff don’t mind that you pace up and down the rows of the waiting room. Sure, they’ll be sending you a bill for the hole you’re burning through their carpet eventually, but that’s not today’s problem. 

Right now, part of the reason for your frantic pacing is to cool off some steam so you don’t say something you’ll regret about your dad’s cancer having the audacity to ruin the most important soccer game of your life to date. 

You’re also here so often, the hospital staff know Frankie. So much so, that your favorite receptionist, Cassandra, has more than definitely broken several hospital rules to let Frankie stick around long past visiting hours when you’ve needed it most. That’s why all she has to do is give you that look to break you from your vicious cycle of pacing to let you know when he’s arrived through the sliding glass doors of the front entrance. 

Most times, he at least makes it a few steps inside before you notice him. Tonight, he’s barely halfway through the door before you’re wrapping your arms around him in the tightest hug you have to muster. He pulls you in even tighter. 

It’s then that the reality of it all starts to set in. Your best friend had to drive to meet you at the hospital because he’s the only one that remembers you have a soccer game tonight. Your dad is in a cyclical pattern of slowly dying that leaves you feeling like a terrible person for even wishing things were different. You’ve spent the past nine of your seventeen years of life only knowing a world that revolves around cancer. For nine years, you’ve never complained that this is the way your life has been. Tonight, you’ve decided that the weight of the world is un-fucking-fair. 

Tonight, you’re not the one dying, but crying seems like the only reasonable thing left to do. 

You should be embarrassed by how loud your sobs are, how quick the damn breaks once your body finally lets you give into the pain. These are the kind of tears that make your whole body shake, the ones that make your chest hurt because you can’t catch your breath, gasping for air like some poor, lifeless fish, begging to be thrown back to the sea. 

Frankie’s seen you cry before, but not like this. You should care about how your tears are staining the fabric of his t-shirt, how he’s the only thing keeping you standing while your body feels like it’s about to give out underneath you. You hadn’t said a word to each other before you’d collapsed in his arms in a sobbing heap, but right now you don’t care. You can’t. 

You’re sure words are exchanged at some point as he practically carries you out to his truck, at least giving you the decency to finish crying without unwanted eyes in the waiting room glued to you, but right now, you can’t remember. 

You’re not sure how long it takes you to get back to the point of being able to breathe at a semi-normal pace, but something tells you that Frankie will hold you for as long as you need him too, crying or not.

He gently strokes your back, his thumb tracing over the fabric of your jersey as it draws small circles over and over, a sweet and simple dance of his fingers that steadies you just enough to keep from flying away. 

“It’s okay, Kenz. It’s okay.” It’s melodic the way Frankie coos it in your ear, like he’s trying to hush a fussy baby fighting sleep. It’ll take time, persistence and patience, but lucky for you, he’s got all three in spades. “I promise you’re okay. I’m here.” 

“This fucking sucks.” It’s not elegant or graceful, but it’s the truth, and right now, it’s all your brain can process. 

“I know it is, Kenzie. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s not fair. I don’t wanna spend the rest of my life worrying that this is the last day I see him. I just want life to be normal. I just wanna go play my stupid fucking soccer game. It’s not fucking fair.” You ball your fists against Frankie’s chest, pounding into him like he’s the one responsible for your hurt and anger. He’s not the one you need to take it out on, but he’s all you have. You hope he knows it’s not his fault he’s become your emotional punching bag as he takes blow after blow, despite how weak your swings are. You’ve got no strength left to fight. 

“I know. It’s not fair. It’s not fair, MacKenzie.” 

He takes it all until you have nothing left to give. You’ve lost a game no one ever has a chance of winning. Defeat is the unwanted trophy life rewards you with, but Frankie stands at the podium with you. He’ll take the hits if it helps ease the blow. 

“Will you be okay if I’m gone for five minutes? Just five, I promise, and then I’ll be right back.” His question catches you off guard, breaking you from your agitated state, nodding your head just enough to give him the permission he needs to race back through the doors of the hospital as you climb into his passenger seat. 

His truck gives you the kind of familiarity the hospital doesn’t. It’s hard not to find irony in the fact you feel safer in his piece of junk car where the wheels could give out beneath you at any moment than you do in a building that is built for saving people’s lives. Maybe it’s because his truck is filled with the memories of moments in life that make you feel like things are going to be okay. 

With the way Frankie’s breathing as he jumps into the driver’s seat, it’s hard to think he’s not back in less than two minutes, rather than five. He doesn’t say a word to you as he cranks the ignition, only a little prayer under his breath that now’s not a time his engine has chosen to give out on him. He doesn’t let you ask any questions until you’re already on the road. 

“Frankie, what’s- Frankie what are you doing?” 

He’s got that crazed kind of look in his eyes he gets when he’s hellbent on making something happen. He always likes to say that you’re the stubborn one. It makes you wonder the last time he’s taken a good, hard look at himself in the mirror. 

“I’m taking you to your game.” 

He says it so matter of factly, like his response to nearly kidnapping you out of the Memorial Hospital parking lot shouldn’t warrant any questions. 

“What?! Frankie! I can’t just-” 

“The doctor in the room said he’s stable and he probably won’t be conscious for the next few hours anyways. Your mom said it’s fine. I’m not letting you miss out on this. You deserve to get to play, Kenz.” 

You’re not sure at that moment if you want to kiss him or slap him across the back of the head. Maybe it’s a little bit of both. 

“Frankie, I-” 

“I’ll turn around and take you back if you want me to, but I don’t think you want me to turn around.” 

God, maybe you do want to kiss him. 

“I hate you, Francisco, I hope you know that.” 

“I know. It’s okay, you play better when you’re angry, anyways.” 

It’s always the little smirk in the corner of his mouth. The one he makes when he knows he’s right. It’s the same smirk he makes when he greets you after you’ve scored two goals to help your team win the last game of your high school career. The same one he gives you when he buys you ice cream to celebrate with two scoops of cookie dough instead of one, because you won’t stop laughing at his stupid joke about your big appetite for winning. 

That night, you fall asleep on his couch, too tired to drive back to the hospital, too scared to sleep in your house alone. You’re not sure if you mean to doze off with your head resting against his thigh like some sort of makeshift pillow. It’s easiest just to blame it on the fact you’re too exhausted to get up. But as you close your eyes and drift to sleep, you’re almost sure that the only muscle Frankie dares to move is the one that pulls the line of his lips into that same smirk you’d rather die than live without. 

You, Present

You’re shocked your initial response to seeing Frankie Morales for the first time in three years wasn’t immediately slamming your front door in his face and telling him to fuck off. 

That’s what your body wanted you to do. For as badly as it did, your some part of your brain wouldn’t let you. 

It’s probably the same, stupid part of your brain that won’t let you stop staring at him, either. 

He looks good. Way better than you’d like him to. It doesn’t seem fair that he somehow manages to find a way to return home more handsome than when he left. It happens every damn time. You swear he does it on purpose. You don’t know how he could, but that’s what you tell yourself. It makes it easier to hate him. 

“I didn’t know you were home.” 

It’s probably the worst thing you could have said to break the awkward silence stewing between you, because you both know it’s a dirty lie. But at this point, you’re far past granting Frankie the privilege of being a part of the truth- you’ll give him your version of the truth that you want him to hear. You’re not letting him have the upper hand. 

“Yeah. I uh- got home this morning.” 

Good to know the best either of you could do was reduce your relationship down to nothing but lying. If that’s the game he wants to play, then so be it. 

“Drive was good?” 

“Yeah.” Lie. “You?” 

“Fine.” Lie. 

For as much as you know the lies hurt, it’s the curveball you hit him with next that you hope stings the worst. 

“I didn’t think you were gonna come.” 

Because that was the truth. The way his face drops tells you the guilt ridden punch you’ve socked him with hits exactly where you want it to. You want the truth to hurt more. You want it to hurt just as bad as the way his truth hurt you. 

“Of course I was gonna come.” 

It’s a poor attempt at a swing back. He showed up with a knife at your gun fight. He knows well enough you won’t show him any mercy. 

“Wouldn’t have been the first time you hadn’t shown up for something important, Frankie.” 

“Your dad’s fucking dying MacKenzie, what makes you think I wouldn’t be here?” 

“Well, he’s been dying for the past three years so I’m glad you’re deciding to show up when it’s convenient for you.” 

That one shuts him up real fucking fast. 

His jaw ticks as he takes a deep breath, staring up at the sky like there’s something written in the clouds that will give him instructions on what to say next. There’s not much he could say at this point that would shock you, but Frankie never ceases to be full of surprises, whether you like it or not. 

“I’m- fuck- I’m sorry, Kenz. I’m sorry.” 

That shuts you up even quicker. 

It shuts you up because you know he’s not lying. The truth is buried in the way his voice breaks at the start of your name, the way the “K” trembles off his tongue and shakes in the back of his throat. 

Your heart is mangled in your chest, hearing him say the two words you’d never thought you’d get and realizing you can’t accept it. 

“Sometimes sorry isn’t enough, Frankie.” 

Neither of you are sure what to say. It’s tough to tell if the fight is over because Frankie’s stabbed you to death and you’ve unloaded every last bullet you had, or if you decided to put your weapons down and walk away before any casualties have occurred. While it’s hard to deny it’s the latter of the two options, at least the first one would have been the honorable way to go. 

“Honey, is that Frankie at the door? Let him in, MacKenzie, don’t make him stand out there!” 

If there’s one thing you can always count on your mom for, it's that she’ll never fail to have impeccable timing, for better or worse.  

You don’t intend for the sigh you let out to be as loud as it is, but it certainly makes it clear to Frankie you aren’t happy about obliging to your mom’s request. You expect him to pass you like you don’t exist, entering your house to greet the two of the three family members who still care about him enough to not burn a hole through his chest every time they look at him, but he doesn’t. He waits for your okay, frozen on the porch until the subtle shrug of your shoulders signals you’ve given him the all clear to pass. He wants to know you’ll at least let him through unscathed for now. 

You follow behind him as he enters your house, trying to ignore the fact you’re entranced by the dark brown curls that still tickle the nape of his neck as he walks, or how the width of his shoulders nearly stretch from one end of the door frame to the other. You’re starting to regret not letting him follow you in  instead. 

You nearly bump into him with how quick he is to freeze once he sees the state of your living room. In the past few weeks, it’s made a terrible transformation from the space you once knew to a makeshift hospital room. The hospice workers had crowded your house with beds, oxygen tanks, and a wheelchair your dad refuses to sit in, an endless puzzle of enough supplies to let your father die in his own home, rather than the cold, sterile wasteland of the nearest hospital. 

You’d been able to ease yourself into your dad’s decline. You’d watched the months leading up to now as his body became weaker and sicker, reducing down to nothing but bones and deep, dark set eyes. You were a first hand witness to how cancer had greedily sucked every ounce of life he had left in him, taking and taking until he had nothing left to give. 

Last time Frankie saw your dad he was in remission. He looked good, healthy, even. That was three years ago. Frankie would have never imagined barely being able to recognize the man that was the closest thing to a real father he’d ever get. 

You want to scream at him that it’s his own damn fault he’s this shocked when he comes face to face with the shell of the man your dad used to be. But with the way you can practically see the guilt oozing out of Frankie with every step he takes towards the near lifeless body lying in the misplaced hospital bed in your living room, you can’t help but let your empathy get the best of you. 

“Hi Frankie, how are you? It’s so good to see you, honey.” 

Even though your mom knows you’re seconds away from wanting to dropkick Frankie off the face of the earth, there are few things she’ll ever let get in the way of her warm and welcoming demeanor. 

Frankie’s still borderline speechless as your mom grabs the tray of cookies he’s been awkwardly toting before she embraces him, arms still glued to his sides like he’s too afraid to move. The way she’s got him in the hug gives him no choice but to stare at the unsettling image of your dad over her shoulder, barely strong enough to turn his head to see what all the fuss is about. 

“H-hi, Mrs. Anderson. I’m okay. It’s good to see you, too.” 

“Is that my Frank the Tank? C’mere, kiddo. I was hopin’ I’d get to see you.” 

The past few weeks have made you shed enough tears to last a lifetime. Never once did you expect the thing that would make you cry the hardest out of everything you’d been through was hearing the long lost excitement in your dad’s voice upon Frankie’s return. 

It’s childish, the way you storm upstairs and slam your bedroom door behind you without a word, heat seething through your veins at the way your dad was so quick to forgive, welcoming Frankie back into his home like a day hadn’t passed, like he had been there right alongside him every step of the way through his descent. Your blood boils at the fact your father can’t be bothered to remember that Frankie had been nowhere to be found for three fucking years. Not a text, not a call, not even a “Frankie says hi!” through his mother four doors down. 

You can deal with the embarrassment of throwing a full blown temper tantrum later, but that’s more tolerable than spending another second in the same room as Frankie.  

“Well,” your dad huffs, his face grimaced with sarcasm as he looks back and forth between your mom, Frankie, and the empty presence you’d left behind, “that went well.” 

“Sorry about that, she’s um-” 

“She’s fine. Just stubborn.” Your dad grumbles, cutting off your mom with the best attempt he can make to raise his arm from the bed and wave her off. 

“No, I uh- it’s fine, I just- I should probably get going, don’t wanna take um- take up too much of your time.” Frankie’s heart sinks in the uncomfortable silence, quietly cursing himself for the mess he’s made. 

“It’s what, 8 o’clock in the morning? You got a bingo game at the senior center you need to get to, young man?” 

“No, I just-” 

“Perfect, no is the only word I needed to hear.” Your dad weakly smiles, gently patting the edge of the bed for Frankie to join him. 

Your heart winces hearing the heavy footsteps a floor below you from your bedroom, knowing the direction they’re heading is only further into your house and not back out the front door where you’d prefer him to be.

Thank goodness your dad has lost the ability to speak loud enough for you to hear the words that follow the thumps of Frankie’s feet. 

“Frankie, I’ve lived a very happy life. There are few things about it I’d change. But you know just as well as me that my daughter is the one who so lovingly inherited my stubbornness. Lucky for me, God knows I’m stubborn enough not to die until you and her figure this out. Unlucky for the both of you, that my time for stubbornness is starting to run thin.”

@chaotic-iguana @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

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@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

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@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

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@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[stardustloserdoll]

could you maybe do a jake smut where he’s pretty rough bc he got jealous but then the after care is all fluffy and sweet 🥹🫶

yours

female reader

"im going to get us some more drinks, i'll be back." jake said placing a kiss on my cheek, disappearing into the crowd. i played with my straw, swaying softly to the music. "y/n?" i looked up seeing it was an old friend i knew. "adam? holy shit its been so long!" i smiled hugging him. "how've you been? didn't expect to see you here."

"i'm good! i'm here with my boyfriend. you should totally meet him." i gasped looking around seeing if i could spot jake in the crowd. "oh there he is." i smiled waving him over. as jake approached us he handed me my drink "jake! this is my friend adam." i said turning to my old friend who sent jake a small smile. "nice to meet you." jake smiled wrapping his arm around my waist. "nice to meet you too.

as i continued talking with adam i noticed jake was quiet, staring at adam with a clenched jaw. when adam was about to say something jake cut him off, his grip tightening on my waist. "sorry adam, but y/n and i have to head home early. we have a busy day tomorrow, sorry." jake gently squeezed the side of my waist signaling me to say something "oh yeah i forgot. i'm sorry adam, i'll see you around. it was nice seeing you again." i waved a goodbye as jake dragged me away.

once inside, jake quickly started the car without saying a word. "what was that jake?" i asked breaking the silence. "did you see how he was looking at you?" he spoke through gritted teeth. "he kept eye fucking you and he kept at your lips like he wanted to kiss you." i rolled my eyes "you're overreacting! we were just catching up!" i said raising my voice, crossing my arms. jake scoffed as he kept his eyes on the road. "you're mine y/n. just wait when we get home."

"strip." jake ordered pushing me on the bed. doing so i took off my clothes, leaving myself in my bra and underwear. he slipped off his shirt revealing his abs and tattoos that i loved so much, almost making my mouth water. watching as he took off his pants and boxers quickly. climbing onto the bed, his hands gripping my thighs tightly. "you're wet already? i havent even touched you." he said smiling at the wet patch on my underwear, making me look away in embarrassment. he slowly pulled off my underwear, running his fingers along my slick folds, making me shiver under his touch.

he began rubbed his fingers on my clit in circles, making me let out a quiet moan. locking his eyes with mine, as he pushed two of his fingers into me. starting with slow pumps that gradually got faster. i threw my head back moaning his name, feeling myself clench down on his fingers, "gonna cum?" jake asked watching as his fingers moved in and out of me. i nodded my head unable to say any words. "too bad." he laughed taking his fingers out of me, making me whine. "i was so close jake."

"don't worry we're not done yet." he smirked looking up at me, rubbing his cock up and down on my folds. in one quick thrust he forced himself inside me, letting out a low moan, making me grip the sheets tightly. "i know you can take it babe." jake grunted as he snapped his hips into me roughly. thrusting deeply into me each thrust, making me wrap my legs around his waist. allowing him to thrust deeper into me. he leaned down biting onto my shoulder hard leaving his teeth marks on me, making me wince in pain. he leaned up quickly grabbing my face and leaned down to me, his lips brushing agaisnt mine. "whos pussy is this." jake growled stopped his movements.

"y-yours jake." i mumbled looking up at him, feeling his cock twitch inside of me. "only i fuck you this good." jake mumbled against my lips, snapping his hips. "say it." i squeezed my eyes shut, tightening my grip on the bedsheets. "o-only you can fuck me this good." i groaned leaning up to kiss him. jake kissed back mumbling a 'good girl' against my lips, resuming his movements. "oh god, im gonna cum jake." i threw my arms around his shoulders pulling him close. "i know.. me too. fuck, cum on my cock babe." jake sighed throwing his head back. my climax washing over me "jake!" i cried out feeling myself release around him. jake releasing after, fucking his cum deep into me. he slowed down his movements watching as his cum leaked out of me.

he slipped out of me, and sighed collapsing on top of me, wrapping his arms around my waist. i ran my fingers through his hair, moving his hair from his face as we both lied there catching our breaths. "you okay?" he asked looking up at me kissing my neck. "im okay." i smiled kissing the top of his head. "you're even hotter when you're jealous." i laughed running my hands down his back. "i should get jealous more often then hm?" jake laughed tickling me.

he got up and ran to the bathroom to grab a towel. he came back and began wiping me down, placing a kiss on my forehead. "you look so pretty." he cooed pinching my cheeks. "i look gross, im all sweaty." i laughed sticking my tongue out. "you look hot though." i smiled admiring his features, as i played with his hair. "i know." he answered in a country accent making us both laugh. "wanna take a shower?" i asked. "i'd love to."

[jd-loves-fiction]

𝐎𝐩𝐢𝐚

n. the ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye, which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable—their pupils glittering, bottomless and opaque—as if you were peering through a hole in the door of a house, able to tell that there’s someone standing there, but unable to tell if you’re looking in or looking out.

✦ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Sir Gawain x GN!Reader

✦ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut + fluff

✦ 𝐰𝐜: 2.2k

✦ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: Minors DO NOT INTERACT thanks. also DONT USE SALIVA AS LUBE THIS IS THE MIDDLE AGES WAAAAHH

✦ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Anyway I havent written anything in a hot second, especially smut, so i might've lost my touch but this man makes me insane. Hope its still enjoyable anyway and im working on some fluffy stuff as well whoop enjoy :)

Stupid quest. Stupid forest. Stupid rainwater puddle.

You didn't see it – you were too damn busy staring into those gorgeous brown eyes of his, lashes lowered ever so slightly in a way so tender it might as well have been what knocked you over.

“Oh goodness.” Sir Gawain exhales a second after the splash, arms reaching for you a little too late. Turns out he’d been lost staring at you as well. “A-Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“I–” You start to deny it but think better of it. It’s Gawain, he’d know the answer just from looking at you. “I’m cold. And wet. And tired.”

“I see. Let’s find ourselves a place for the night, yes? The storm from last night might be coming back.” He tells you, reaching out a large hand to pull you up. You take it without hesitation.

Quickly finding yourselves a damp and dingy little cave to pass the night in, Gawain gets to work starting a fire as you shiver uncontrollably. 

“You know–” He begins, fumbling with two rocks and a handful of dryish branches, looking up at you for a moment, “You look good, all soaking wet.”

The warmth of his gaze sweeps over your form, lingering on your shaking shoulders, passing by the water dripping off your linen shirt and how your arms curl around yourself to keep the heat in – heat he stokes with that cheeky look, the quickness of his breath, the biting of his lovely, soft, bottom lip…

A spark goes off, catching fire to the branches, cutting the tension like a hot knife over butter. But it does not dissipate, the fire does not cool, it merely wanes to a simmer.

“I bet you’d look even better.” You blurt out, just to get the last word in before sitting by the flames, not entirely aware of what you’ve just said and where his beautiful, hasty mind would take your words. Then again, you’re much more concerned with not freezing to death.

“Trying to warm up with wet clothes isn’t going to do you any good. It isn't going to do anything at all, really.”

“What do you suggest, then?” You sigh, knees tucked to your chest, sitting opposite the dashing young knight.

“You should take off whatever clothes are wet and let them dry by the fire.” He begins shrugging off his thick wooly cape to lay on the stone floor beside him, “And sit close to me – we can share body heat.” he adds on quickly, as if he hasn't made his intentions with you clear enough throughout this journey already.

You’re not sure when it started, when his dark eyes began wandering, when his touches started lingering, or even when you started doing the same. But it’s clear to the two of you; the want– the need too transparent to hide. 

There’s more to it though, for you at least. It would be almost too easy to dive into him otherwise. Like a nymph’s bewitching calls into murky waters.

But it could never be that easy. Not with the one they may one day call King. That and his womanizinging reputation.

Expecting anything other than a purely lustful encounter out of this would be foolish to say the least, but perhaps you are a fool. Because the way he looks at you; the way he has been looking at you since– whenever you started noticing; makes you feel as if there might be a chance. 

So you do as he suggests, stripping down to the basics under his unwavering gaze, shuffling over to his side and nuzzling against him.

Questions swirl endlessly within your mind while leaning on Gawain's warm body, his shirt so thin you could almost perfectly imagine what he'd look like without it in your mind's eye.

But then, those eyes, clear as spring water in their intentions, cage you in with their stare and suddenly you feel as if everything must be laid out plainly, “What are your intentions with me, Sir Gawain?”

The look on his face nearly makes you regret it, fearing you may have offended him, but surely he’s aware of his reputation – surely he must understand.

After a beat he exhales with a slight smile as his large hand comes around to your shoulder, “Are they not clear?”

“Clear as they may be, I like things to be absolutely transparent, especially when it comes to men of your… caliber.” He hums in acknowledgement with a smirk, before it slowly slides off his face, replaced with a thoughtful expression so rarely seen it could be possession.

“I understand what you mean, love. But, in truth, I cannot answer you as of yet.” At the inquisitive look you give him he begins trying to explain himself, “It is that… Well, I am to be King somewhat soon, I assume. So it would be reckless for me to act as carelessly as I once did. But then also, I do not yet know what my intentions are – beyond tonight, that is.” Your face warms slightly at his suggestive tone as his hand drifts down your naked back, “All I know, is that you intrigue me. Greatly. If anything, I know– I feel as if… once will not be enough…”

A dark hand of long, slender fingers lifts your chin to meet his fathomless stare, looking deep into your eyes and beyond that – to your vulnerable soul. 

“I feel… the same.” You speak, suddenly breathless as your face nears his subconsciously, giving in to his siren call.

Lips meeting like a spark to a fire, a beginning. His hands wander over you, reverent, gentle, as yours grasp at the front of his tunic, urging him as close as humanly possible – as if close isn't nearly close enough.

The kiss grows fiercer, a push and pull of soft pink muscles attempting to gain control, before being forced to part, open around heaving breaths while eyes grow hazy with lust– no, yearning. Gawain draws back to shed that bothersome tunic before his hands attach themselves to your hips to pull you onto his lap. The ease with which he does it has you grinding down instantly, hands running over sweat-slick caramel skin.

His dark curls bounce as he tosses his head back under your movements, desperate for some control of the primal urges suddenly overloading his brain – to fuck you without mercy, to ruin you for anyone else – but no, that’s not how he wants this to go.

“God above, you're beautiful.” He breathes, hands stilling your hips to let his eyes sweep over your features slowly. The intensity of his gaze makes you squirm and the strength in his hands warms your inside more than the fire ever could. 

Burying your face in his gorgeous, exposed neck you speak so low not even God could hear, “Shut up and take your pants off.”

You feel him smile against your hair, laying a kiss against it before drawing away to do as you ask, somewhat clumsily, but earnestly all the same. Sitting still on his cloak, you watch him avidly, eyes catching on every new inch of dawn-hued skin revealed.

The singularity of the moment strikes you suddenly; back at the castle, amongst duties and expectations, this would never be possible – this calm, this undemanding rhythm. You have no place to be, no one to meet, so you can just be. Together.

“Where did you go?” He whispers, caressing your face with a softness undeserving of a knight’s strength, making your eyes focus back on his features and immediately surge forward to connect your lips to his, “Nowhere important.”

Gentle as a breeze Gawain lays you back, body between your legs and arms beside your shoulders. His prominent nose brushes yours softly, sensually as he parts your legs even further, “Good. I want you here with me. For this will not be a moment you’ll want to ever forget.”

“Oh,” You chuckle teasingly, back arching almost subconsciously against his warm, wide chest while his hips start moving against yours, “You’re sure of that, are you?”

“Your reaction tells me all I need to be sure.” He replies, so cocksure you’re suddenly reminded of who he’d been before the Green Knight had showed up proposing a ridiculous game – knowing he hasn't changed completely is oddly comforting.

“You talk too much… Sir.” You grumble in lieu of remaining silent and further inflating his ego, getting a raised brow at the tacked-on title.

“But you like it, don't you? Don't lie to me, it's unbecoming.” The corners of his lovely lips twitching with the effort not to laugh. Quick as a flash, your legs lock around his waist, pulling his center down to yours and he’s forced to take a breath from between his teeth as his long lashes flutter, “Like I said; you talk too much.”

Gawain bites his tongue – there will be plenty of time to get back at you once you’re mindless and thoroughly spent – he reasons. For now, he just needs to get you there.

One large hand settles at the base of your throat as his luscious lips travel down your neck in flickers of contact that have you arching against his firm grip for more. Soft as a feather, he pulls away your undergarments as needed to kiss at your chest; sweetly at first and then so wet and sloppy you’re left gasping and whimpering, hands grasping at his strong shoulders for purchase.

Grabbing you below the knees, he gently pries your legs open while kissing down your body until you're tingling and trembling all over wishing he'd just get to it.

“Gawain…”

“Hmm? Are you going to beg? Go on.”

You pout petulantly; no you won't beg, he'd enjoy that far too much. But you can, however, tempt him into doing what you want.

“Gawain…” you moan seemingly helplessly, nails brushing his skin making him shiver in delight, “won't you take me? It's clear you want to.”

“It's clear, is it?” He chuckles breathlessly, ceasing completely to just watch you and it makes you want to smack the back of his head in frustration.

Breathing deep, your eyes move over him carefully, appreciating every inch of delicious, exposed skin so many yearn to catch a glimpse of before…

“Gawain,” you raise an amused brow, surely he noticed… “Yes?”

Oh, he's far too good at playing dumb.

You raise yourself until your lips barely brush his, brown hues watching you closely down the length of his nose before your hand boldly presses down on his stiff cock and those eyes glaze over before rolling back in overwhelming delight, “I'd call this pretty obvious.”

Hand squeezing in pulses, you're granted a low groan followed by a deep sigh, “God, you're too much. I cannot– wait.”

Gawain's mouth devours yours, hungry as a wolf, pushing down once more while his lithe fingers graze the inside of your thighs, grinning at what he finds. Cheeks warming at how your mouth chases his as he pulls back, he gives his palm a full lick before wrapping it around his throbbing cock and stroking. The flames illuminate this length of his gorgeous neck like an old painting and your tongue longs to glide over it and follow the path of his sweat so deeply you almost miss him speaking, “Will you beg now?”

You groan most crudely, far over his games and his perfect face and his disarming voice and his damned haughtiness– your hand grasps the curls at the back of his head, delighting in his whimpered response, “Take me now or so help me–,” your not proud of the way your voice wavers but you’re both past that now.

Gawain’s lips connect with yours surprisingly softly, leaning his forehead against yours and lining himself up with your center, “Shh, I’ve got you, just relax.”

A kiss to your hairline is the only warning you get before he starts pushing into you, slow as can be and yet still you cry out at the feeling in between the kisses he places to your lips to offer some comfort.

“There we go, breathe for me. It’ll feel better soon…”

“Gawain…” You moan, clinging onto him as the bite of initial pain melts into pleasure.

Sucking on your neck, his hips sway against yours rhythmically, wavering only when your nails dig into his sides while moaning desperately in his ear, “Gawain please…”

“Now–” his breathing stutters while his hips buck suddenly, pressing a collection of whispered curses from both of your mouths, “Now you beg?”

“Just please fuck me, please.”

The way his cock twitches inside you tells all you need to know on how he feels about your words.

Curls brush the side of your neck as he reaches to bite at your lobe, grunting and moaning into it while speeding up his hips so much your own moans become stuttered and desperate.

As the end nears, Gawain presses his lips to yours, nearly missing in his eagerness, and opens his mouth as if to say something but no words leave him, only a loud moan of your name ringing across the cave just as your body does the same.

Your mind is eerily quiet as you come down, blinking eyes you don't recall closing and feeling the next king breathe against your naked chest while gathering himself. After a moment he raises himself on shaky arms to gaze down at you, hand reaching to brush a stray hair from your cheek and sighing as if suddenly, all is right in the world.

[camthecatchameleon]

THIS THIS THISSSSSSSS

post-Benehime tloem society has SO MUCH POTENTIAL IT MAKES ME INSANE

I'm a bit sad there's no canon books following the post-Benehime world and characters but at the same time... it allows a lot of Thinking and Rotating Them In My Mind

The three main characters are sooo so interesting in their individual ways of looking at the world/challenging the status quo RAARGH

Josef being practically a wizard in all but ability through his arc with the Heart and learning to work WITH the spirit rather than command it.

Nico being the first demonseed to reach the state of being that is Demon and yet is also the only one we see who retains her humanity and survives.

Eli's entire career being a slap in the face to the wizarding ways, working in ways that benefit (in a matter of speaking) the spirits as well as himself.

They're just so interesting to me. ESPECIALLY as a foil for early-series Miranda, who's so by-the-book that those three challenging the status quo is worth of incarceration, to her. AND THEN THEY SLOWLY CHANGE HER MIND. They and all the other people she meets on her journey.

As much as I feel like Miranda is very much audience-insert Exposition Queen her character arc is also very interesting. Her motivations never really change but the way she views the world is very different. She's always said "For the wellbeing of the spirits" but her idea of what that Meant during the first book is far more close-minded and Spiritualist-esque than in the last book when she makes the decision to allow everyone to hear and see the spirits. She learns that humans should work with the spirits rather than stomp all over them.

RAWAWARARRARARHRGH they make me insane.

I have questions about the logistics of the firebird, jade horse, and sand centipede from that one scene in Spirit Rebellion. Because why are they like that, is the spiritualist guiding them into that shape with their will? Did the spirit decide fuck it, we're a bird now, I will fly. Like a bonfire spirit being different from a typical fire, and chemical fires being their own thing, sure. But why is that fire a bird, and why is that hunk of jade a horse, and why does the sand need so many legs.

Also how old did y'all think Marion from Spirit Thief was, did y'all read her as a teen, or young woman. Cus I've seen both types of people interpreting her and Miranda's interactions as sweet female friendship, and sweet budding queers.

My Miranda is a bisexual woman kisser so I'm biased.

[astranite]

WIP Honestly-Ive-Lost-Track-of-the-passage-of-linear-time Day

I havent done one of these for a while!! Or finished many or any writing things though ive been making progress on and started many. But have some Scott and John, and John and Virgil!

---

Then there was Scott, rapping on the door to make sure John hadn't fallen over and cracked his skull open. Or in thoughts rather kinder to them both, bringing him his toothbrush and checking he was okay. Big brother smotherhen. An echo of fondness washed over John.

They brushed their teeth together; Scott’s brush was blue and John’s fluorescent orange because that was the system. Scott danced from foot to foot, unable to stay still, and John discovered Scott hadn't grown out of stopping every five seconds to say something through a mouthful of bubbles. He changed topics mid-sentence and jumped between ideas happily. It was good to see Scott being, well Scott. John listened, occasionally answering back with a remark or other as he sat on the edge of the bath, an arm wrapped around a grab bar to keep himself steady.

That part was remarkably similar to being up on Five, though the need to hold on was from too much gravity rather than the lack thereof. And except in space he’d calibrated himself by experience until the lightest touch would suffice. A death grip on the bars was the giveaway of new, barely qualified astronauts. He shook himself, to change the track of his thoughts to not rip up the piece of comfort he could find in the familiar patterns.

Up there, he’d gaze at the stars outside and carry on a conversation with Eos. He half laughed at the memory of the first time she’d seen him cleaning his teeth and demanded to inspect his mouth technically-not-bones-but-John-why-aren’t-they-bones out of curiosity. He relayed it to Scott and got to watch sensible commander big brother try not to snort toothpaste out of his nose. 

---

"You think you're hiding it, but I can see that limp from space."

Virgil leaned closer to his comm, giving John a prime view of dark, angular done-with-this-shit eyebrows.

John definitely didn’t panic. He just didn’t want the totally needless scrutiny of a medic brother all up in his business. Or asking questions like, ‘What did you do to yourself this time?’

“What limp?” He replied. He could play it off as obtuse and then no one had to ever to find out. 

Virgil gave a Scott-worthy facepalm. “Do I have to worry about a concussion too?”

Okay maybe that was too obtuse. But he was running on few hours of sleep, back to back rescues and no bloody breakfast so who could blame him. 

“I’m fine, Virgil.” John rolled his eyes. 

Virgil didn’t dignify that with a response. 

Well then, John could prove it. Ignoring the ache in his left foot and that the last time he tried this was probably what had gotten Virgil’s suspicions on him in the first place, he twisted through the central hub of Five to the entry to the gravity ring. 

Lowering himself carefully in what was usually a thoughtlessly graceful manoeuvre, he landed on his feet in the grav ring, a triumphant, “See, I’m perfectly fine,” already on his lips. Except as soon as his left foot touched the ground with his weight on it, a sharp stab shot through it.

He couldn’t hold back the painfully obvious wince. Or the sudden gasp. 

[brandogenius]

Helloo, I know I havent been so interactive as of recently but uni has me by the throat and I am pretty sure I failed a final even tho I studied so hard for it so not feeling very well.

Would love to see a blurb or headcannons of Julien or the boys in general comforting ya!reader after a tough exam.

-🦝

hi racoon!!! you don’t need to explain to me why you haven’t been interactive! i totally understand! you gotta put yourself first before anything

i hope youre doing very well :( maybe you didn’t. we gotta have some hope. you studied really hard for the final exam and it’ll be worth it!!

don’t stress yourself out my love :(🫶🫶 you did the best and that’s all you can do. i’m sure your grades will be great and you’ll pass that final with flying colours! i believe in you and am proud of you very much!🫶🫶🩷🩷💝💝💝💓💘💖💞💞💖💖💘💗 ily!

if you ever need- my dms are open if you need to talk or ramble :)

‼️RPF‼️

BLURB - julien & younger artist! reader - comforting them through an exam (short)

- ya attending college virtually while touring. taking days off to study while working around being on tour. having to fly back to attend the exam physically. thankfully there was a few days of no shows in between the exam so julien flew back with you

- getting more familiar and comfortable with the boys was good. julien guiding you through the airport. she knew it like the back of her hand.

- staying at your parents house while you’re there. your parents were out for the week while you were there but let them know you and julien would be staying. you going back to your bedroom and julien taking the guest room

- being able to show julien around your small town that evening. getting dinner at your local restaurant before going back to studying in the living room, flashcards scattered around you.

- “probably should call it an early night? your exam starts at like 9am?” julien already starting to collect the cards, shuffling them back into the small folder and trying to lead you to your bedroom. “i’ll wake you up around 7am? i’ll have breakfast made and drop you go college. just ring me when you’re finished i’ll collect you”

- not even sleeping that well / not being able to get enough / a good decent sleep that night. just a lot of stress. you’ve been doing tour dates after your dates. you’re worried. what if you could’ve used that time to study?

- julien sticking to her word. knocking on the bedroom door, pulling the curtains open and waking you up at exactly 7:01am. it was a bit different than on a tour bus, and not having phoebe slamming the bunk curtains open while blasting songs in your ear at 5am but it was better.

- not really a morning person, you get ready and head down to the kitchen where jb is after making some fruit. “we could go get coffee after your exam? should be over by 12? get some lunch and pack. our flight is for 7am tomorrow”

- jb dropping you off to college but you’re hesitant on going. flashcards and study notes gripped FIRMLY in your hands. julien going on her of her little rambles about how this is just one exam. you’re packing the notes into your folder, leaving them on the seat and waving goodbye to julien.

- jb getting that msg to come collect you. she wasn’t expecting to see you crying outside the college. unlocking the door for you and she’s immediately concerned. passing tissues to ya and is like “i’m not gonna drive until you tell me what’s wrong”

- ya being like “i’m pretty sure i just failed that exam-“ and you start to cry harder, unable to get any words out. julien taking off her seatbelt and just hugging you like “no no- kid. that’s not true. you studied so hard for that exam don’t say that”

- young artist sitting there like “no- i got a couple wrong i know it. i’m gonna fail-“ and julien’s like >:((( about to go into the college to shout at the examiner for what? she doesn’t know but she’s gonna anyway

- “it’s just one exam- you’ve been studying for a month kid. you barely talked to me yesterday you were studying! you’re gonna pass it. so what you got a few wrong? you got most of them right huh?” and you’re nodding you’re head like yeah. and jb is like “yeah so i know you’re gonna pass 100%”

- just being comforted by julien made ya feel a little bit better. they never really had anyone to comfort them so it was nice to be comforted by someone they now considered a big sister / big sibling model in their life.

- “sorry for like.. crying into your shirt” “don’t even worry about it kid. how about lunch?”

[fictionfixations]

MAJOR UNTIL THEN SPOILERS

been watching tuonto play until then

I dont know what it is I mean. i joined the streams without any context (well listen i was there for the start. did not know it was but i saw like ryan and mark at the laptop and louise coming over and reveal of her playing games. except i didnt know who they were at the time lOl. thought it was cool but wasnt keeping up with it. then i ended up on the stream where nicole brings us to visit her grandparents and they're just fighting and it was raining and then theres the reveal with mark's mom being dead [well missing but]. and then we went to prom and cathy died and im just like what the fuck.)

but so i didnt really know what was going on but i still kinda cared? but like. so cathy died. and i did not cry. i was just 'what the fuck' and. like. a lot of surprise. and shock. (i was also thinking that maybe if we didnt go after her she wouldn't have died because she was walking towards us on the road. i also didnt know that apparently you can disappear when it rains if nobodys there to acknowledge that you are there and that you exist. i think. so uhm. i still wonder what wouldve happened if we turned back to see our mom though. or if we stopped.)

but so anyway. i did go back to watch all the until then streams after that. with all the context involved (did not see ending of cathy admitting that her homelife.. isnt that great. because that wasnt streamed yet. admitting in a recording i mean cause shes dead. but a chatter said that it was implied that they probably were abusive, and pointing out the marks on her skin cause her dress was like ripped in that slowed shot of her walking towards us.)

but i already knew what happened so shrug (it was very cool though. even though i was also rewatching scenes id seen before it didnt feel old at all. very invested.)

you know what got me crying?

THIS stupid scene in the other timeline where they're acting for ridel. about two ppl who havent seen each other for awhile. and the

memories of cathy actually being dead just came into this one and i just fucking bawled im being literal

(we dont see the memories actually affect us, its just a thing that we know. mark doesnt know cathy died he just. feelings. and also he got a hallucination of the truck..)

i dont know why but sad shit has been making me cry more than usual.

marks just starts crying and im already sobbing my eyes out like no you cant do this to me you 😭

anyway. i missed a bunch of the streams and not wanting to go them out of order ive been waiting to watch it all at once (also he apparently finished the game so now i really gotta go faster. i think i have like. a stream and a half to watch now.)

but so i dont know the ending pls dont spoil me

i just wanna say. god this game is so cool.

also i mightve been slacking off cause it seemed this timeline mightve been a worse timeline. and im like the kind of person to be like in fiction 'what if that person was me' and so i get super immersed. which also means i get all the shitty feelings too. so i was kinda worried. but its.. okay?

mark. just. kinda seems depressed though. like uh. more depressed?

i saw someone describe it as him having kind of given up (i also think his grades are worse? it didn't show us what his grades were but the principal mentioned that he needed to study more or he'll have to be kicked out or something which wasn't in the first run through)

and tbh. that mightve been because cathy just. died. which isnt really something you can just get over even if its been awhile. it still hurts, still something that lingers. an unexpected pain. or at least, a scar.

like. i cant imagine how hopeless it must've felt to be right there. to watch her die and be unable to stop it. and like. obviously since this is a mark who has also gone through that and is now in this timeline (although doesnt remember).. a part of him is still kinda feeling that loss, and also having done all this before that makes it feel pointless. and like he shouldnt try as hard, cause whats the point, right? what does it matter?

anyway im sad. im going to go back to watching the stream. (also cathy is my favorite i love her so much sduifhfeuhds

[visionthefox]

DCA RUIN THEORY! SPOILERS!!

DCA theory -

First! - Sun and Moon are not what we saw in the first game, the virus not only affected Moon, but Sun too . since Sun acts odd, he picks you up and puts you in one place, always – every time..

why? No child is ever gonna stay still for too long, so.. is odd, also, his voice line, the “trouble” one and the “lights on” – clearly something is wrong.. he sounds worried but frustrated too..

he wants the player to focus on him, stay still,, not really what they should do, I think..but they are not aggressive, their jumpscare is not attacking, Moon hands are visible, unlike the rest.. who have their faces in you face - Moon is not that creepy if you look at it- or maybe is just me haha -

so maybe.. just maybe, Sun was the energetic one, jumps, run , play time! He was happy, carefree! filled with energy so kids get tired- Moon was soft, caring, but quiet and calm, since there is  collectible of moonie, I swear -I saw it, it showed Cassy opinión “ I never sleep better” (didnt find the screenshot that I wanted but this works too)

so they were harmless! only after the virus is that parents started to complain, but before? It was good.. thats to explains the strange behaviors - now another thing that got me curious..

- The light issue, I feel like the whole  “lights on – off” is just  an option  installed but not activated, like a flash in the phone! you can have it, or not!

maybe they run but time – they must have an internal clock! So first was Sun - or course, he makes the kiddos tired maybe then comes Eclipse? Or maybe he is just the safe mode, the mix of the two for when there is any child with  special needs of lonely, maybe just for  when there is no many kiddos, Eclipse shows up, maybe doesn't mention who he is, he just, shows up, and takes care of them all, being the perfect mix ¡ happy  but calm! -keep in mind , im not tech - so all I know is what I see and experienced - for me Eclipse can be

1- another AI or

2- a safety protocol who desactivates some of Sun and Moon more energetic behavious - kinda lika a - save battery option- maybe.. or the closer thing..

I don't think the reboot got rid of Moon -he seems.. annoyed, in pain, the light system doesn't work anymore due to the daycare being not dark and not bright , is a middle that causes errors,  seems like Moon has been in control for most time..Sun shows up from time to time - maybe to look for a way to get fixed.. to get help..

Moon acts odd still.. but may be just his AI being too broken,-or the pure pain of the gears not working as they should be! but is not bad! My baby is not bad! Is just in pain! There is a clear long sigh when they are rebooted, like Moon can finally rest! The reboot  got rid of the light option and now they run with the time zone option!! reason why Eclipse says "I need to clean up before we can open in the morning" so.. when Cassy gets to them , is already night but since maybe they havent charge in a long time or - their system detected the virus-or Moon ai being corrupted, then Eclipse took charge .. is also curious.. is eclipse not seeying the desaster? is this safe mode unable to make them raalize their tragic fate?.. maybe just they focus on the girl in from of them - then may have seen the real deal..

yeahm that's my idea so far..

Eclipse is always been in there, but maybe with the “run the AI by light system” he didn't showed up in the small time we got to be in the daycare.. – we only see Moon.. - that and - maybe since is was close time- there was no need for him to show up!

Then the reboot free him! Yey! And curious, he knows cassy.. Sun doesnt.. maybe is the pain? Maybe is the mask.. yes. The mask. When we fix them, there is no mask, just her face.. Eclipse took a look at her , and just calls her birtday.. is odd , he and Roxy mention this.. Roxy in a more casual manner but that can be due to her not being programmed to care for kidds , just entretaint them - she maybe - like a learning AI - have some people she likes more, she may know when someone is a casual or a usual visitor.. meanwhile Eclipse - maybe he remembers everyone.. also, curious thing.. the mask shows lines in their body , doesnt fill the missing part like it does to Roxy, like here - or even like the cameras does!

I know she is a node? thing? (Im not sure the words or what even is going on) so she is like, special for the story.. but then.. taking that aside, chica is seen different, just like endos and appaently Monty.. Roxy is filled, Freddy is not even there when using the mask.. the only one who Looks! the same but just Acts different is the DCA.. is odd - but cool detail..

also, there's a dialoge of Sun, saying "not me . the other me!"

so this means Sun see Moon as his other side? I know the book mentions they used to act in the teather as hero and villain, and sharing one body, they may just learn to see each other as "my other half " in a way.. one could read it is "is just one AI pretending to be two characters" but I rather think is two AI who know they must work as one, in harmony , in a choreography dance maybe is the system of light that keeps them separated - thats why Moon said the lights hurts, is a forced change they cant do cuz they are locked in some type of error .. one specia error we -or Cassy end up fixing with a reboot and again, only Eclipse knows who she is.. maybe the idiots running the daycare put on so many locks on poor Moonie and Sunny here that end up locking info data? humans can be messy! idk.. thats most of my ideas.. the idea that Sun and Moon see each other as one - breaks my idea I used to have of them- but is an concept I love!! love it!! not only is cute! as clearly is not a "we pretend to be two" but "we are two who like to be one" kinda like BloodMoon! but in wholesome way since in no way Sun seems afraid to Moon! if anything they seem to wish to be closer! also again, the collectable! Moon was good! I swear! he has to be good! welp, thanks for reading me!! <3

[fuckyeahsentaidaishikakku]

Chapter 180 - Sumamry

Even later than last week for many mental health related issues (also why there havent been any gifs of the newest episode yet) here comes the chapter summary. If you havent heard, the fan translation team picked the manga up again and chapter 177, 178 and 179 are uploaded and translated!! yey! so no links today other than to the rules.

Chapter title is something around "the same kind"

We start with seeing Ruuna and Angel beaten on the ground, as Ruuna wakes up, Chidori remarks that she seems to not be finished yet. Then from the other said Hibiki and Akabane chime in, pulling Chidori's attention onto them.

Hisui contemplates the situation. On one hand there ist he green keeper that is staging the rebellion and on the other hand tyou have the neo ranger leaders (and also akabane? she doesnt dwell on that for too long). she wishes chidori well and leaves. he in turn tells her to "run" for "your own justice." she heads out to defeat the other executives.

Hibiki states that they dont need to fight the executives, because defeating green will end the game. Akabane basically goes "thats a you problem" and says his only goal is still Yellow.

We cut to the mentioned yellow an kiisu where they are hanging. Windy comes by to free his Dragon Keeper. Kissu also slowly regains consciousness and he can feel Ruuna near.

Back to the Greenkeeper confrontation, Hibiki and Akabane fight Chidori. Chidori is impressed with Akabane's raw strength, but doesn't let that shit make him nervous.

He summons a planet to throw at the two leaders, but Hibiki cuts it with his Demon sword. What follows is Hibiki's explanation where the sword comes from and I will be real with you guys, I do not understand it. Something about a sacred object blessed by the dragon god through the dragon priestesses.

Chidori remarks that there were only 5 dragon priestesses, who are now devine tools and Muko of course, who is a different case. Hibiki makes some inference that his tool is not made out of a priestess (I think? please dont hold me to it). And though Chidori finds that a good development, he still doesn't think the world is ready for an era of the General knights.

(btw if you wonder about the fact that akabane wears his suit again, i wondered that too. but i forgive it because i love it.)

Akabane is strong, but Chidori says that he wont be defeated with brute strength. Hibiki says "we will take over from here" and Akabane says "your task has ended, green keeper".

We jump back to Ruuna who half dead and limping thinks back to when she and Kiisu saved Hibiki. She sees it as fate that she met him that day because afterwards so many important things happend. Unable to walk forward any longer, she get supported by Azami Beni and thinks to herself that humans are maybe not so bad.

She wishes to tell Kiisu this and finally tells him that she has come to the conclusion that humans and monsters aren't so diffent after all.

Kiisu and Ruuna celebrate this as she thinks how nice it is that they have finally found their place on earth. Thats when it happens.

Ruuna goes doen in blood. Azami towers over her. She celebrates the fact that the monster has finally let its guard down and was also already weakend enough to be killed quickly. She says her brother is always with her. She ends the chapter by declaring that she never thought the monsters were like humans.

Now if you are like moona and I, you will think.. who? Seeing as Azami was pretty much only a side character and even that a very basic one. What brother? If you are also as forgetful as we are let me jug your memory: during monster zoo the red battalion was called to action and one of the strongest fighters was killed. Beni (get it) the one with the headband. It was her brother.

[fanfic-chan]

hiii :]

could number 19 (revenge) be something between kaeya and diluc??

i havent seen a kaeya one yet and i think this concept could fit them nicely

(also your blog is amazing😭😭🤌🤌)

Tickletober Day 19:

Ler!Diluc/Lee!Kaeya

"Kaeyaaaa!! You get back here right now you little-"

Kaeya couldn't hear the rest, to busy running from his livid brother as he made a break for the front door of the mansion, cackling like a gremlin and not paying any mind to the exasperated sighs and fond chuckling that came from some of the staff as they watched the two young teens chase eachother through the foyer and out into the courtyard.

The two boys might not be blood relatives, but even so, they had become practically inseparable from day one, and would often get up to plenty of trouble whenever they were together.

Their most recent shenanigan as of late, being that of a rather intense prank war that they'd started around two weeks prior. Which would explain why the young master Diluc was currently speeding by them, absolutely covered from head to toe in flour.

"Ha! Serves you right!" Kaeya shouted back at him as he continued to flee, "That's what you get for putting that lizard down my shirt during training yesterday you jerk!"

Kaeya couldn't help but shudder a little at the embarrassing memory. Father had said that watching him dance around like a drunk peacock while he was trying to get the scaly creature out had been one of the funniest things he'd ever witnessed. Kaeya, for his part, did not share this sentiment.

"Woah!" He yelped, crying out in surprise when his brother suddenly sped up and tackled him into the grass, using his superior physical strength to effortlessly pin him into the grass and then straddle him, despite his best efforts to shove him off and get away. Ugh, why did his brother have to choose a heavy claymore of all things as his weapon of choice? Why couldn't he have just picked a normal sword or something like a sane person?

"I'm.... I'm gonna kill you... You little... Brat..." Diluc declared through his heavy breathing, clearly out of breath after the chase, and Kaeya couldn't help but chuckle a bit smugly about his own lack of exhaustion. Diluc might have him beat when it came to brute strength, but when it came to stamina and overall agility, Kaeya would always come out on top.

"Oh? You think that's funny do you?" Diluc growled, and Kaeya actually did have the common sense enough to look a little nervous about the sudden devious smirk that sprouted onto the redhead's face, "Well then, allow me to give you something to really laugh about!"

"W-Wait what?! What are you- AHAHA?!! Wahahahait no!! Anything buhuhuhut thahahahahat!! Lemme gohohooo!!" Kaeya cried, squealing in panic when his brother suddenly started squeezing at his sides. Of all the ways he could have picked to get his revenge, why did it have to be tickling?!

"Nope, to late. You should've thought of that before you decided to dump a ton of flour over my head first thing in the morning. I just got dressed and now I'm already gonna have to get ready all over again!" Diluc complained, paying no heed to his brother's frantic babbles for mercy.

"Buhuhuhut it wahahas fuhuhunny!!" Kaeya retorted, unable to resist the opportunity to make fun of his brother even when at his mercy like this, and the small huff of offense he got in response made any impending consequences for his statement completely worth it.

"AHA!! NAHAHAhahahaha thehehere!! Wahahahaait!!"

Well, mostly worth it...

"Oh, not here you say?" Diluc taunts, a small smirk on his face as he continued to pinch at the other boy's hips, "What about here then? Or here? Or right here?"

Tummy, ribs, shoulders, sides, it was getting really hard now for Kaeya to keep up with his brother's movements, and perhaps a small part of him was even beginning to regret ticking him off in the first place, but he would sooner die than admit it.

Which he might just end up doing if he didn't surrender soon...

"Ahahaha!! Okay!! Okahahay I gihihihihihive!!" He cried, finally breaking not even a whole minute later, "You wihihihin!! Now Stahahahahahp!!"

And just like that, it was over. Kaeya groaned, letting his face flop into the grass in defeat as Diluc laughed at his theatrics before wordlessly heading back into the manor, presumably to go change out of his still flour-covered clothes.

Heh. Just wait until he found out that he hid all of his clean clothes on the roof...

[antraa-blog1]

daemon has been on my mind and i havent even finished the series but a quick dabble

an arrange marriage pov (fluff)

it starts pretty basic about how you had hear the price daemon is pretty rogue uncaring promiscuous how his wife had died under suspicion and ofcoure when the choice of suitors was given he wasnt on it for long till your father had no choice but to marry u off to daemon so as to make amends with the king so reluctantly you get married to him you dont speak much only replying till you get married you feel little scared of him too how his reputation you sit by his side timidly not making any sound as if that would too rattle him so when celebrations end and you are asked to depart with you now husband you do before you realise that wedding night is whats waiting and whats expected of you when doors are closed and he is to enter you have heard the stories of him having dipped his cock in more pleasure houses than you can count and then he enters while you stand to greet him feeling too awkward to sit on bed now and he comes in looks at you and you both dont say anything he offers you wine and you take it you need something to calm your nerves and steady you heart he doesn’t say anything he sits and drinks his wine looking at the fireplace you join him there after several moments he breaks the silence “was everything the way you wanted it to be?” you nod gently adding “it could not have been more wondrous” he chuckles “i can think of some ways it could’ve been more to your taste” unsure what he means you stay quiet and he continues “maybe marrying someone by your own accord or half my age would have been more wondrous” still so unsure you do not wish to make him mad you remember how your mother explained the immense consequences if you were to make him mad, a little annoyed with lack of response he tsks but goes on “ maybe you already had someone in mind, princess tell me was he in audience glaring at me with anger or planning to wage war to kiss you again” and looks at you, you take a gulp of your drink and say “no my prince i have not had anyone my maidenhood remains attached, there was no one” and look down somehow this confession of honesty makes you feels so awful knowing he has had more women that he can remember and you hadnt even held hands all your insecurities building up and you cant help but look down hoping to disappear he tuts “do not lie to me, someone with your beauty would have known touch of man princess” you still unable to look up says slowly “no my prince i have not” “pray tell why” “well i suppose you would gather the answer if you spared a look at my sisters and my cousins compared to them i unfortunately am not enough,” taking a deep breath you go on “i am afraid you got the worse deal for that i apologize my prince” he looks at you stares and glares and you worry that he finally has reached the conclusion that it is indeed true compared to your sisters you do have small beauty to offer him what if he leaves and sends you back the alliance would break your kingdom would collapse the more the silence filled the room the more you grew impatient for a response you added “please do not send me back my prince” you said this with such shiver in your voice and looked at him he was still staring at you, he extended his hand for you to hold and you did he brought it close to his lips and gently pressed a kiss and said “how could i? why would i? you are my wife and you place is next to me making me the subject of everyman’s envy” you grew all shy and redder than any wine he tasted he said “do you wish to rest now my wife?” you nod “please” he doesnt let go of your hand and walks you to the bed and lays next to you remembering what you mr mother explained you about this night you begin to undress with a sigh and to your surprise he stops you “i do not wish to do anything out of duty or without your want for it” “are you use my prince i would be happy to fulfill my role as your wife” “yes im sure my wife, if you don’t mind shall i hold you close and sleep i am awfully tired” “yes ofcoure” and with that you sleep in his arms so close to him thinking this wont be the hell everyone kept screaming about

[likeadog]

you have not missed out on ANYTHING, i promise you. youre only 20, you still have so much time and YES, even to do all the "early 20s" stuff you think you missed out on. you havent even started your early 20s yet! you have time to grow and do all the things you want to do :) the internet might make you think your life is over at 20 but its not, youre young and people who say life is short are liars. life is long, and you havent failed (you never will).

yeah, its not that i think its like....the end of my life or whatever i know most people really only get settled way later...i mean hell, my dad only recently really started living, i think. i havent ever seen him this happy

its really more about iunno. like missing the tutorial or whatever. i regret not spending more time with other people as a kid, i regret not going to prom junior year (i was going to do it senior year, but...yknow), i regret trying to structure my life around whats "most pragmatic" and not getting to really enjoy things. the last three years have turned me into a neurotic mess if i wasnt already one, but unlike high school, i feel like my ability to be productive has gone way down (ive barely been able to draw for months atp...between strain injuries and the other health shit and just fatigue, i used to push stuff out once a week), im sad we didnt get to do our senior year art show, stuff like that

and i kinda feel like im making the same mistake-- don't get me wrong, i like my coworkers and the classmates ive met, but i barely spend time with anyone my own age. i barely MEET anyone my own age. i barely know anything about what there is to do in the town i live in. i dont know any campus events, and when i joined a club, i ended up being unable to attend because of work and had trouble speaking to anyone. ive tried shit like bumble and tinder, but even when i meet someone nice its hard to keep up. i know we all talk about being chronically online or whatever, but outside of my job, i really have trouble talking to people, even if it's just the cashier at the store.

sorry, this is a really nice ask, and i really do appreciate it-- its just not that im scared of losing my youth. i just dont want to live like this right now, and i cant rely on the promise of things getting better when i feel like all ive done is get even worse

[its-me-im-coraline]

Consequenses // Thomas Raggi

words // 1590

warnings // smut ahead hehe and not even a full smut, just a snippet honestly

pairing // Thomas Raggi x F!Reader

author's note // if you want to be on the tag list let me know. ok please let me know on the taglist link if you have asked me to tag you and i havent right now... I lost some of the user names so yeah im so sorry 🥺

request // yes

summary // Reader has been breaking Thomas’ rules by teasing him for days. Thomas eventually is fed up and shows Reader what happens when you disobey.

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11 @bidet-and-legolas @atremendousstrawberrycollection @otaculo @selenophiliaxx

Music, throbbing lights and booze was the way Thomas and his partner decided to spend his weekend off. An average gathering made to feel like a party amongst the closest friends of the band and everyone’s partners. Of course the guitarist couldn’t resist bringing his lover along. He had not seen her in a while, traveling around and working on new music had made the relationship hard for the two of them, things only becoming harder when they started being unsatisfied with their more intimate relationship. The longing did not help much, instead it brought anger and anxiety, both resulting in ruining both of their moods.

The suggestion came from Y/N in the afternoon after Thomas took a break. They were sitting on the couch watching some tv show neither cared for, slowly trying to relax and potentially do more than sitting on the couch. The thought had occurred a few days ago, while the man was still not there, when his lover was maybe watching a bit of an erotic movie. “Maybe we should… switch,” was all she said. No explanation, no details, nothing.

Not much convincing was needed so here they were. Y/N being dominant was finding it a little hard to just sit there and listen. Thus the dom turned into a brat, choosing to tease the man during their first night together.

It was rather simple to get Thomas all riled up this fine night. They happened to have a small fight before the party (a disagreement over minimal things truly) so they were both in a very tense mood while at the party. Thomas was on the one side of the yard, talking with some of his friends, while Y/N was on the other, revealing clothing and lingerie (with certain movements it was visible to the man - and anyone else that paid attention, but not many did). The man was unable to take his eyes off his partner. See, she knew that the result would be pretty good.

“Keep this up and the result will not be very nice for you, amore,” he whispered in her ear when he finally approached her. His hand right above her ass, face too close for comfort.

“I am not sure I want to stop,” said Y/N, an evil smirk decorating her face. Her hips moved side to side, making sure the man could see. Back on her plotting she was.

At first things went smoothly: a bit of seductive dancing, a bit of drinking… The casual. But soon that would change as well. Ethan was sitting on a pool chair, joking about Y/N’s dancing, having a playful back and forth with each other until Y/N sat on his lap. It was nothing unusual for the two, it had happened plenty of times before, but both Thomas and her knew that this time was different.

By now Thomas is fuming. If he was in a cartoon his face would have gone comically red, smoke coming out his face in an exaggerated way. The cigarette and drink in his hand did little to help restrain him. For that, he downed the rest of his drink in an instant, smashing his cigarette on an ashtray and moving to his friends and partner. “Sorry to cut your fun short,” he smiled, trying to keep it together, “but me and Y/N need to go. Honestly, I’m feeling very tired,” he finished, taking Y/N’s hand in his and pulling her up and towards him.

Their friends did not say much, but rather voiced their goodbyes allowing the pair to leave the party.

Getting in the car was now the easy task, but one of them was dreading it. She knew that this would be so fun, but she was undeniably afraid of what could potentially happen that night. “What do you think you have been doing, dolcezza?” He all but growled, roughly turning her face towards his with his hand.

“Me? Nothing. I was just trying to have fun with my friends.” Oh, the innocent act. If Thomas wasn’t hot and bothered (more of the later) already, he certainly was now.

“I don't think so, baby. I think you have been very very naughty. I think you need a punishment.” His tone was playful but his eyes told a different story. Y/N was in for a long night, and they were still in the car. Thomas’ hands had already begun to travel all around his lover, faces dangerously close. And like that the vigorous kissing started.

“You shouldn't have acted like that tonight, amore,” he commented before he started driving back to their shared apartment. The ride was quiet but the tension and anticipation was loud as hell.

Patience was out the window the moment Y/N opened the door to their home. Thomas pushed her to the wall, attacking her neck with kisses. “I warned you enough times, my love, now it’s time for actions,” he commented, hand slowly traveling up to her neck, lightly squeezing, blocking the blood flow lightly making her lightheaded but so much more desperate for him. “Turn around and put your hands on the wall - just like that, good girl! Now, ass perked up.”

She was very well aware of what was about to happen and saying that she did not want it would be a lie. She was rather used to serving spankings to the man whenever he disrespected her - rather lenient - rules, taking such an adrenaline rush every time, but oh did she get a rush now, too. Thomas was getting more and more confident by the minute, Y/N getting rather aroused from it.

Thus she obeyed his demands, pushing her ass back, all there for him to do what he wanted. Thomas quickly got to work moving up her tiny little skirt to have her exposed to his will. Her ass looked amazing in that white lace thong she wore, making the man undeniably hard. “You know what you’re doing, don’t you? You planned for this to happen-” slap, “you knew I would not be able to hold back, didn’t you, puppy?” slap. “Answer me!”

“Yes, daddy,” Y/N responded very timidly, slightly flinching every time he struck her cheeks.

“Good, good. Now count for me, and you will thank me for each slap.”

“One. Thank you, daddy,” she began with his rhythm getting quicker and his force bigger by each slap of his palm. They reached around twenty five before Thomas decided on his next move. He said nothing but roughly turned Y/N around, pulling her towards their shared bedroom, lightly. After closing the door behind him - more out of habit than any actual practical reason- he pushed her to the bed, legs automatically falling open as he stared with lust in his eyes.

“Just sit there and do nothing,” he ordered, “no touching, or there will be consequences.” He did not go far after that, he only undressed and picked up the condoms and the lube, just making sure that she was entirely ready (not that he truly needed it at the moment - just a safety precaution) and knelt in front of his lover.

“Mhm,” he moaned, “you are looking delicious, but I’m not sure you can handle it. Maybe we should do this anoth-”

“No, no! Please, I can handle it! I can handle anything! Please, please!” she exclaimed, or more so whined, making Thomas smirk like a cheshire cat and proceeding with his actions.

“Anything, you say? Hm, we’ll see about that.” Oh boy was she about to regret those words.

His tongue started to tease her immediately as he finished his sentence. It was small short licks and little pecks on her clit, featherly but was agonizing in this case. The pace was slow, timid, really, all in an attempt to show his love in the most painful way possible. Her eyes were shut tightly, mouth hung open releasing heavenly (or rather sinful) noises - a pleasing confirmation of Thomas’ plan working perfectly. Y/N’s back was arched up as her head hung behind, chest bouncing in the attempt to gain more pleasure by Thomas.

“Thommy, please,” she whined, earning a slap on her thigh.

“You are being ungrateful, amore. I shouldn’t be giving you any pleasure at all. You’ll take what you can.” The lack of contact for the few seconds he spoke was enough to cause another fit of whines, but his breath on her heat made far worse ‘damage’.

He wasted no time moving up and away from his disheveled lover, moving to the dresser. Y/N simply sat there, mouth falling open, but this time due to confusion. It was clear that frustration had already started to pick up. Thomas on the other hand was enjoying the situation fully, finding it rather entertaining how he could make her melt so easily.

“Thommy. Come back,” she uttered in her usual dominating tone. Nothing. “Thomas, come back here-”

“What did you just say to me, puppy?” If he was pissed before, now he was livid, and it was clear as day. If this were some weird cartoon his eyes would’ve glowed red - a thought that did not help Y/N’s pleasurable fear. His hand had swiftly reached Y/N’s neck, not tightening up, yet making his stance threatening. “I think you have forgotten how things are going on around here, my love. You are not on the lead right now. I am. And you will pay for that.”

[jackalopey]

that post made me think about things, so here are some wheelchair thoughts from someone who recently started using one (im ambulatory, which means i can physically walk and do not use a wheelchair 24/7, personally i use it because walking can cause me to feel faint and get migraines and i was housebound due to this before; i don’t know why this happens but am waiting to have a neurology assessment)

wheelchairs are great! like i said, i used to be basically housebound, and when i did leave the house i had to really plan where i was going and what i was doing. i’d basically have to make sure i was walking for no more than 5 minutes a day, total. but since i started using my wheelchair, i havent had to consider that at all because i’m fine to be out for hours and hours and to travel miles and miles.

basically wheelchairs are anti-isolation. being able to go out and spend time with people and visit nice places is incredible. i wasn’t able to freely do that for 8 or so years.

when you’re in a wheelchair, you are small. i am already short, but the wheelchair really takes it to another level. it’s like i’m seeing the world like a child would, or something. also i’ve been more perceptive to my environment, maybe because i’m lower to the ground, which is interesting.

you feel everything. a lot of places are technically wheelchair accessible, but my god the flooring is not pleasant. cobbles are my worst enemy. god forbid you’re sensitive to travel sickness. for me this can trigger migraines, which is not ideal.

my wheelchair is pushed by someone else because i cant afford an electric one and one that i push would give me the same issues as walking. being completely under the control of another person like that is scary! roads freaked me out so much the first time, because i felt so vulnerable when i couldn’t control myself, and the person pushing doesn’t necessarily think about this because they are in control

expanding on that, being unable to control where i go can be frustrating. sometimes i want to go left when the path splits, not right, and even though there’s no real difference it’s frustrating to not be able to make that choice for myself. sometimes i want to go slower, sometimes i want to stop to look at something, but i can’t just make those decisions for myself, i have to communicate them first

again on accessability, a lot of people have wheelchair lifts for stairs, but to use them you have to find a member of staff to get help (or i assume you do; i have no idea how they work!), and honestly... it’s just not worth it for small staircases. i don’t love going down the stairs in a wheelchair, but it’s faster. ramps are better.

so many shops are inaccessible due to the interior design. when i was in paddington station, 2/7 of the shops were accessible to me, and both of the ones that were accessible were chains. the others had corners that my wheelchair couldn’t fit around, and many stores also don’t have doors that open wide enough for a wheelchair to comfortably fit in. also often shops do technically have enough room, but it’s tight so i’m constantly anxious that i’m going to knock something over

kids look at me more. that’s just something cute i noticed. they’re very curious, and they rarely say anything, but they’re really often looking over and staring. i don’t know if it’s because they’re not used to wheelchairs or if it’s just because i’m closer to their eye level, but it’s cute

people are a lot kinder than i expected. before i used it i was extremely anxious because i am young and i had heard stories about ambulatory users being harassed when they stand. i know that this is a thing that happens to people, but this hasn’t been my experience yet, at least. most people who comment on my share assume that i’m able to stand, but aren’t at all judgemental about it, and i haven’t had any rude comments or invasive questions yet. i’m sure it’ll happen eventually, but people being kind really helped with my anxiety

that being said some people are also very patronising. they don’t try to be, and i don’t know if it’s because i look like a 12 year old, but my god people seem to infantalise me even more than normal in the chair. i appreciate they’re trying to be nice, but me being unable to walk long distances doesn’t actually mean that i’m a child, weirdly!

please dear god clean up dog shit. i am begging you. it’s horrible getting dog shit on the wheels of the wheelchair. it can be hard to avoid sometimes; at least when you’re walking you have more control over your feet. my wheels don’t have the same level of flexibility of movement

it hurts my butt to be sitting for extended periods of time :/

that’s all i’ve got for now, but i’ve had a lot of thoughts, and a lot of them have been about things i hadn’t really heard about before. i don’t know if this is useful to anyone, but it’s stuff i would’ve liked to have heard more about before