#Super clean code

[xnyu09]

Robin Volume 4 #124

[y2jiz]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀୨ ♡ ୧ ∿ ⠀⁺ ᝰ ⠀ʕ´ᴥ｀ʔ

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀    better⠀things⠀to⠀do⠀with⠀my⠀time ౄ

♡ @yeritos

[kagooleo]

been busy the past month but college completion is nearly upon me… by next week I’m gonna be a fish with a degree!!

[allmyandroids]

HE IS JUST LIKE ME FR 💕💖

[pabotofus]

young and he fine and he tall and he handsome

[neverendingford]

.

[victorluvsalice]

-->To Moonwood Mill! Yeah, I was thinking that I hadn’t been there for a while, and it might be nice to go and visit again and let Alice work on some werewolf stuff. :) They of course started their grand day out at the local library/gym, where they all grabbed a nice werewolf-related book to read for starters (and Coty got a little weak at the knees looking at Smiler. XD Apparently that high reputation is making them VERY attractive!). Having fulfilled THAT want, Victor then got sent out to the observatory to look at the sky for a little while; Smiler hopped on the computer to play games; and Alice –

-->Well, Alice just couldn’t seem to decide on what she wanted to read, as she kept grabbing new books, getting a few pages in, then putting them away and getting more. XD I’ve had days like that, girl. I managed to stop the vicious cycle and instead had her, Smiler, and Victor hit the gym for a while for a little working out – after all, Alice enjoys keeping fit, and it was a good opportunity to work on that skill too! She ran on the treadmill (taking a little spill when she tried to start a hill challenge a bit too soon) while Smiler did some boxing and some lifting, and Victor struggled his way through a session on the weight machine. I did my best to boost them up by adding the “Bracing Breezes” lot trait to the place (along with “Peace & Quiet” and “Study Spot” to reflect the fact that, well, it IS primarily a library), but I don't know how much difference it made this particular session. Victor and Smiler eventually got tired and wandered off to do other things – I let Victor rest with a good book while Smiler got put on “filling the local pet bowls” duty – and eventually I stopped Alice’s run as I could see she was getting hungry. The problem was, I could also see Victor was getting hungry – and while Alice could easily transform and hunt for food, Victor was kind of dependent on getting something someone had COOKED. I thus started looking around for a barbecue or something in the immediate area –

-->And then looked at the bar just across the street, went “you know what, those serve food”, and had them swap lots right after Alice had swapped into her beast form! *thumbs up* I sent her out to hunt while Victor and Smiler hit the bar (and I hit the lot traits in Build/Buy to add “Great Acoustics,” “Convivial,” and “Party Place” to give it the right vibes). Victor ended up ordering a Blue Steak and a Wrench, while Smiler got their typical Plasma Jane, and they ended up chatting with the other two Sims hanging out at the bar – Akshara and Camille. Everyone was having a very good time –

-->And then Camille pressed her fingers against her forehead and Victor ended up getting brain-zapped! Guess who is an alien in disguise! O.O And guess who did that autonomous “memory-erasing” thing I hate so much. >( Fortunately all it did was make Victor forget the little relationship he’d built up with her – if she’d affected Victor’s memories of his actual partners, I might have just killed her.

-->And then, right before Alice returned from her hunt, a completely naked J. Huntington III showed up. For no reason. And when I say “completely naked,” I mean that – he didn’t even have the censor on for some reason! I’m not sure what disabled it, but there was a lot of naked man-butt in front of the bar. The local Sims were appropriately “what the everloving fuck, dude.” XD Even Alice, who was a little distracted by the scent of freshly-"found" steak when she first arrived, found herself shocked by all the naked flesh on display after she'd eaten. Fortunately, Smiler managed to introduce themselves after a little confusion and get him to put on some cold-weather clothing. *shakehead* Sims, man. Dunno what to tell you.

[misspantymime]

Bat X Family (Prologue)

a/n: This is my first time posting my writing online and I'm super nervous. I'm working up the nerve to write something longer, so please enjoy this for the moment. I can't take credit for the idea, cause I got it from @p-seduonym, just so you know.

Anya Forger! Child! Reader x Yandere! Platonic! Batfam

You had the coolest family!

Your Papa's name was Bruce Wayne and during the day, he's a super famous billionaire! He owns a big company called Wayne Tech and it makes a lot of cool things and helps people.

But at night...

He's a super hero named Batman!

He protects Gotham from villains and keeps everyone safe! He's got a cool car and a bunch a gadgets and stuff and--

Oh, but he doesn't work alone, y'know? He's got a lot of sidekicks too!

Your Big Brother Dick used to be called Robin, but now he's Nightwing and he's lives in Bludhaven. He's funny and he can do a lotta flips and stuff. It's 'cause he grew up in a circus, before Papa found him.

Big Brother Jay was Robin too, but then he got hurt really bad. Now he's in Crime Alley and his code name is Red Hood! He has a motorcycle and a bunch of guns. Not silenced pistols, like the spies have in your favorite show, but they're still really cool!

Big Brother Tim was also a Robin, but he's Red Robin now. They sound the same but they're actually different! He's super smart and can hack computers! Babara can too, and her code name is Oracle.

Big Sister Cass is very quiet, but nice! She can dance really pretty and knows what people are feeling just by looking at them! She goes by Orphan.

Steph is funny too. She plays lots of pranks and smiles a lot. She lets you play with her clothes, even if they're too big on you. She's Tim's friend, but you like her too! Her vigilante name is Spoiler.

Duke is nice too, and he came to the house just a little bit ago. He has a thing called a "meta-gene" which means he has superpowers! He can control light and his name is Signal.

Damian is your big brother cause he came from Papa too. But he didn't always live with Papa. He used to live with the "League of Assassins". How cool is that? He can even use a sword! He's the new Robin now.

And you all live together in a big house called a "manor", with Alfred, who can cooks and cleans and takes care of everyone--

Oh, how do you know all this well?

Well...

...It's cause you're a physic!

But that's a secret!

a/n: soooo I like neglected! reader. But it's not really spy x family if there's neglect, right? This will be mostly fluff and slice of life.

[freshbakedbreadstick]

Of Traits and Closets - Stack x F! POC coded! Reader x Smoke

Elias "Stack" Moore x F! POC CODED! Reader x Elijah "Smoke" Moore

Summary: Stack was a bad influence on you, for sure. But you can't forget that Smoke was cut from the same exact cloth.

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Reader uses she/her pronouns and is described to have a vagina. Reader's appearance is not mentioned, HOWEVER, I wrote this with women of color in mind!! NO SPOILERS! Starts revolving around Reader and Stack, Smoke joins in at the end. Mentions of vaginal fingering, dirty talk, probably out of character because I STILL haven't seen the movie yet, reader wears a dress, lots of dirty talk, THREESOME, no incest between twins just sharing, usage of pet names (baby, angel, girl, etc.), breast and nipple play, groping, some religious mentions (in a comical way), Stack definitely likes to bite, unprotected semi PIV, sorry if I miss anything, brothers will be brothers.

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: Imma be honest with u all . . . IM NOT SUPER PROUD OF THIS 1 idk what happened i just . . . 😭 I've been editing it for 3 days n redoing it n it just feel it's weak but idkkkk I might be ovethinking it . STILL HAVENT SEEN THE MOVIE i need to REAL bad i just don't have the timeee ! ! Anyways need both of them❗️as always ENJOY BESTIES

(Pretend this gif includes them both bc there aren't that many with them I can find w/o spoilers 😭)

You loved your boys, you really did. Both of them had traits that you just absolutely adored. You could list them all... but it would take ages to get through all of them.

But, as an example... Smoke was the leader, calm and collected but so sweet. He was the one to kiss your tears away, cooing as his hands trailed over your skin in the candlelight.

But Stack, oh sweet Stack, he was the troublemaker... and fuck did you love him for this.

He was the one to tease you, pinching your sides, trailing his hands up to cup your breasts for the most brief second before rushing off snickering, grinning like a fool. He was the one to drip cool ice cream over your skin on purpose accident during a warm summer's day, cooing that he would clean it up for you only to run his tongue over each droplet, letting himself wander a little too far. He was the one to pull you away with a mischievous smirk, sneaking you off under his twin's nose... like right now.

"Come on baby, come on," he whispered, hand gripping your wrist as he tugged you along with him, feet light as he moved toward the closet.

You whipped your head around, halfheartedly looking through the shadows for a pair of eyes, ones that you know would click their tongue and shake their head at your actions. You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth when you saw nobody around.

"Stack," you whispered, voice whiny, "I don't know if-"

He pulled you into the darkness of the closet, making you gasp as you stumbled into the back wall, eyesight enveloped in darkness as he pulled the door shut. It clicked so softly closed, despite his rough pull, indicating to nobody that your bodies were sneaking away into it.

"Shhh, it's okay, it's just me," his smooth voice said, lifting at the end.

Your eyes were still adjusting to the darkness, but you could hear the sly grin he was, for sure, sporting in his voice.

His hands moved quickly, large and warm as they gripped your hips, pulling you flush against the solid bulge underneath his linen pants. You could only gasp and moan at the feeling, "Jesus."

"Don't take the lord's name in vain, now" he murmured with a small laugh at your audible eyeroll, hands sliding up your sides to the straps of your flimsy linen dress. Was it improper for a lady to wear such an item? Maybe, but it had been so hot lately that it was all you could bare to wear.

He touched it ever so gently, letting it fall slowly, almost comically slowly, down your shoulder. He chuckled, the sound rolling deep from his chest, as he watched your chest rise and fall through the cracks of light peeking in through the door.

"I'll be quick, baby, I promise. Smoke won't even notice..." he murmured, leaning in to lick at the saltiness of your skin from your bare shoulder blade to the junction of your neck, pressing a kiss there.

You took a shaky breath, skin erupting in goosebumps. With wide eyes and a bit back grin you gave in, moving your own hands to grip his button down, wrinkling the fabric between your fingers.

"You sure?" You whispered, voice slowly becoming slurred with need. He hummed softly, hearing the way your neediness matched his own.

Your fingernail gently flicked the buttons at the front, the sound of each click inaudible between your pants, his hums, and the wrinkling of fabric. Your action didn't go unnoticed, however... it only added fuel to his fire.

He brushed his tongue over his bottom lip, suppressing the shudder at your voice. He loved it when your humored him, matching his energy of trouble in your own way. It only made his cock throb almost painfully. He swore to himself that if he could die from a lack of stimulation, he would've died right here and now.

"Oh sweet angel," he rasped out, yanking the strap further down, finger trailing to pull the top down to reveal one of your breasts, "Grant me salvation..."

"Stack-" you murmured, cutting yourself off with a choked moan as his warm mouth suddenly enveloped your nipple, feeling it pebble against his wet tongue.

You flinched as he suckled harshly, humming eagerly at the way your body arched into his mouth, head falling back against the wall and hips inadvertently grinding into him. He bit gently, tongue coming to soothe the pleasurable sting.

"Thought you were so worried about my brother finding out," he purred as he pulled back, blowing air onto your abused nipple.

You jerked at the feeling, "Well if your gonna be like this, might as well give in..."

You both let out breathy chuckles, his hand moving down your hip to the hem of your dress. He took a second to toy with it, twisting it in his fingers, letting you feel the heat of his skin through the fabric, before sliding his hand underneath.

"I know you can't say no to me," he cooed, leaning in to kiss you. You could only hum, eyes shutting, hand coming to cup his cheek, brushing against his stubble.

His hand trailed up, fingertips grazing ever so slightly over your skin as he moved to hook his finger over your underwear, ready to slide them down in the painstakingly slow way he loved to do. It made your body shiver, pussy aching in anticipation.

But his hand... found nothing there, no little cotton strap, nothing. He felt his pulse quicken, knees nearly giving out as he suppressed the urge to fall to his knees and pray, burying his gratitude over having a girl like you in his life into your bare cunt.

But instead, he yanked himself away to look at you with wide eyes,"Dirty, dirty girl... no panties, no bloomers, nothing?"

You felt your cheeks flush. Despite planning this, you couldn't help but have a moment of brief shyness. Your teeth chewed your bottom lip, looking at him through your lashes while trying, and failing, to look innocent, "It's too hot for all that nonsense, baby..."

A partial truth. You couldn't help but think Smoke was right when he would tease, saying his brother was a bad influence on you, influencing you to do things like wearing low cut tops so that could lean over in front of each twin, giving them a quick eye full.

Or in this case, foregoing panties when the day slowed down and it got cool enough to bare skin to skin contact with one another.

His grin made his cheeks hurt, but he didnt care, he only cared about the way your voice rasped, making his cock twitch in his briefs, "You minx... you're just as bad as me..."

Eyes narrowing, free hand coming down to toy with the button on his fly, you whispered, "Oh no... I could never be..."

This made him shiver and growl, rushing in to kiss you again, teeth gnashing and tongue intertwining with your own, swallowing your moans.

It was a blur of heavy breaths and furious movements from here to the moment you were both pushing your clothes to the side, desperate to relieve the aching of your cores with one other.

Your fingers yanked his fly open so hard that the button flew off, clattering and rolling onto the floor. Meanwhile, his own hand bunched your dress, pulling it up over your chest to reveal your body to him.

He groaned at the sight, tongue swiping over his bottom lip and dark eyes trailing over every inch of you, "So pretty... and all for me..."

His free hand then came to roughly grip your thigh, yanking it apart just in time to see a small drip fall to floor between you. It glistened, almost taunting you both, on the wooden floor, somehow managing to be one of the only things to catch the light from the cracks of the door, nearly illuminating the embarrassing sight for both of you to see.

He let out a low whistle as your cheeks burned, "Have I been neglecting you, baby? Have I been ignoring this honeypot so badly that she makes a mess of our floors when she sees me?"

You suddenly cried out, feeling his hand let go of your thigh, rough fingertips brushing through your folds, from your slit to your clit, gathering the wetness onto his fingers.

"Need a taste," he whispered, voice rough and low, eyeing the wetness coating his fingers.

The look in his eyes was almost animal, the wild feeling coursing through his veins as his brain told him he needed to devour you right then and there. He needed to taste you, smell you, needed to have you imprinted in his mind and soul right then and there, it was unbearable!

But you on the other hand, you couldnt take it anymore. Youhad enough at this point, you were tired of the foreplay and the teasing touches and all the waiting. You were tired to the glances across the room, of the innuendos over the dining table, and of the practiced reluctance, you wanted, no, needed him now.

You let your hand snake under his briefs to grip his cock, hearing him hiss as his hand quickly moved to grip your thigh again. His other hand let go of your dress, moving to grip your hip, pulling you flush against him again as he rubbed circles into your skin.

"Take it out baby," he said lowly, "I know you can't wait. My girl isn't very patient, isn't she?"

You could only stare at him, chest heaving as your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, using your other hand to pull his clothes away, finally freeing him to the warm air of the dark closet. His bottom lip quivered, shiny with the saliva that coated it, parting as he groaned, heavy, aching cock no longer constricted in his pants. It felt so good for him, finally able to feel your hand around him, instead of his own palming himself in the bathroom as he waited for you to alone to pounce.

"Ohhhh see that baby?" He cooed, forehead pressing to your own, "Look at it, look at my cock. See how wet my tip is? You did that babydoll... all you. Make me so hard, want you so bad..."

His eyes shifted from your face down as you carefully ran your hand over his shaft, fingers tracing the bulging vein on the underside all the way to the leaking tip. He jerked his hips into your hand, letting you inadvertently jerk him off a small bit, the proximity allowing him to breathe in your scent.

"Need it," you whispered, voice thick and pupils blown wide despite the darkness, watching the desperation in his body.

"I know baby, I know..." he cooed, "Gonna fuck that pussy until your crying out my name."

His knee knocked your leg open, letting you slowly jerk his cock as he shifted your hips. Then... the head of his cock nudged right up against your clit. You both groaned, so loud at this point, but too drunk in the feeling of one another to even care about your little hiding game.

"That's right..." he panted, rubbing the head of his cock against your clit, "Juuuust like that. Needed my baby, needed her sweet pussy real bad too. My cock missed you, you know, missed his pussy real bad while i was out workin' for you..."

He was always so mouthy, one of your favorite attributes too. While Smoke was also quite talkative when it came to you, he preferred to whisper sweet nothings as you two made love, the slow deep rolling of his hips accompanied with his coos of how pretty you looked taking him pushing you over the edge every time. But when it came to Stack, he was brash and unashamed, telling you exactly how you made him feel in the dirtiest of ways. How he got that dirty mouth, you didn't know, but you at least knew which brother got their mouth washed out with soap more often in childhood.

You let him hook one of your legs over his hip, jerking your hips to match his movements are you ground against his cock. It was hot and muggy in the closet now, making your skin feel sticky but the sensation feel so much more intense. It made you lightheaded as your senses were overwhelmed by his touch, his voice, his scent, and everything him.

Your nose buried itself into the crook of his neck, listening to him coo to you as he pressed the head right up against your entrance, pushing it teasingly in and out.

You let out a choked gasp, feeling the way he would push the tip in for a moment, barely letting you feel the pleasure of being stretched over him, before pulling back out.

"Want it that bad?" He babbled, "My girl needs it so bad that she can't even handle getting just the tip? My brother neglecting you too?"

It was just you and Smoke home today, Stack was out running his errands and doing his work. And while it was not true that Smoke neglected you, he did have a tendency to get caught up in taking care of his buisness at home, focused on getting his work done before coming to press kisses to your neck from behind as you washed the dishes, bending you over the sink to say his thank yous for being so patient and hardworking around the house.

But of course, they were brothers and they were twins, a little friendly competition definitely happened between the two.

"This why you got me here?" You slurred, hips moving to chase him, but he only pulled away and grinned, "This an ego boost for you?"

"No baby, this is me showin' you that my brother makes love while I fuck-"

The door swung open.

You both gasped, scrambling for a second. It resulted in you jerking your head back and hitting your head on the wall, Stack tripping over his pants, which you didn't even notice had fallen to his ankles, as he stumbled away from you. He slammed his back against the other wall with a loud groan, the two of you flushed, mouths agape to see Smoke standing there, looking unamused.

His eyes raked from his brother, brow twitching as he saw him clamber to stand up, cock out and dripping. He then turned to you, legs shaking and breasts peeking out from where Stack had pulled the collar of your shirt down, chest heaving and skin shiny with a film of sweat.

The corners of his mouth twitched as his eyes locked onto the few droplets that managed to make their way down to the floor between your legs, staining the floor proudly.

"Taking too long," he said, drawling out the last letter as his eyes narrowing slightly.

Neither of you said anything or even looked away from the hulking frame in the doorway, air filled with the sound of pants and racing hearts.

Smoke shifted, hand moving to cup your cheek. It made you soften, feeling his gentle hold cradle your face so sweetly, skin smelling like the outside air he was in moments ago. His hand was cool to the touch, the temperature change against your cheek compared to the stuffy air of the closet making you sigh softly.

"You think I can't fuck her?" He said, not even bothering to look at Stack as his hand shifted to grip your jaw, tight. He maneuvered both of you around, pulling your back to his chest and making it so that his back was pressed against the wall you were just against.

You eyes made contact with Stack's seeing the way his cock twitched at the sight of your exposed breast and stunned face. He groaned softly as Smoke gripped the bottom hem of your dress, tugging it up to your neck.

You watched Stack's hand shake, arm twitching to inch toward his cock, eyes raking down your body. Then, the familiar jingle of a belt filled the air, making you still.

Smoke just snickered, eyes looking up and over your shoulder to see that his brother started putting a show for you, hand locked around his cock, lazily jerking himself off.

"Brother," Smoke said, making Stack jerk his head up, "I'll show you that I know how to fuck her."

And he sure did. Both did, actually. God, you really did love your boys.

[quarterlifekitty]

okay, I had been thinking about but after you commented on my post it’s just— [explodes]

maybe a weaknesses post with the CoD men on your monthly? I’m begging on my knees, I’m sure they (König) could fix me❤️‍🩹✨also thinking about how König probably refers to it as “strawberry week” (German euphemism for it) [explodes pt 2]

Maybe? Machveil. For you? Anything. Also, please look at my favorite period euphemisms, found while researching for this post:

ペリー来航 - Arrival of Matthew Perry

Le petit clown qui saigne du nez - The little clown with a nose bleeding

Weaknesses part 9: the red death

cw: period play, breeding mention, exhibitionism mention

Gaz grew up with a sister— he is no stranger to the ill tidings that come with owning a uterus. He’s a man that probably already has pads and tampons at his place for guests. And Gaz is the kind of son of a bitch who kinda likes it when you’re sick, cause it means he gets to spend time nursing you— so he loves your period. Picking up comfort foods, doing a bit of extra laundry, making sure your vibrator is charged. He calls it “Lady time”.

Soap is not very sympathetic in this matter. He finds it kinda funny, to be honest. He’ll still do anything you ask, but he has a condescending little smile on his face. Calls you his little ketchup packet. Tickles you, knowing it makes you gush a little. That said, he will eat you out during it. His doglike nature knows no bounds. Refers to it as being “on the rag”.

Ghost is like a knight in your royal service when you’ve got a rough menstrual. At your command in any matter, no matter the inconvenience, with no complaint. While he will fuck you and make you cum, it’s purely for your benefit. Blood usually reminds him a bit too much of work for it to be a huge turn on. But he does melt under the praise of “none of my boyfriends before would do this for me— they all said it was gross :(“. Makes him feel like a real man. He calls it Shark Week.

Price feels, in just the tiniest way, like resources have been wasted when you get your period. Like… you’re paying rent on an empty apartment (your baby chamber) when it could be full (with a baby). He’ll never say that, but it’s in the back of his mind. And if you loudly complain about being on you’re period a lot he’ll be like “I know a way to make it stop for a while :{)” (the curly bracket is his mustache). Like man, shut up. Also, blame it on being English, but he’s constantly offering tea for every single symptom. He calls it “code red”.

König. This is a sick man. He feels a bit bad about it, but he does like that your period makes you so slick, and so sensitive— he doesn’t even have to do anything to get you going before he fucks you. Despite his career, he rather likes the look of your blood all over his cock and splashing up his pelvis. And he gets super proud if he’s the first man to ever fuck you on your period. He buys you a big, expensive box of imported chocolate truffles when you’re having a terrible period. Calls it “Erdbeerwoche” (strawberry week).

Nikolai… patron saint of your helplessness. Thinks of your period as a part of his responsibility as your man. Happy wife happy life type of thing. He does a lot of cooking. And he keeps you perched on his thigh at every opportunity for as long as you can stand it. He’s got a hand dipping into your panties and playing with you throughout the day (his non dominant, but that’s never stopped him) while he works, relaxes, entertains guests (Price). Makes you cum until you’re a boneless mess, your blood soaked clean through his jeans. Calls it “Красная шапочка (krasnaya shapochka)” (little red riding hood)

[jaydove-writes]

Moving intro to pinned post so bio is less cluttered

~ he/him, cis, biromantic asexual, engaged to @starlightprincess98, (Planning to get married February 14th 2026) born July 12th 1997 (listed the year so I don't have to update my age every year) ****

Platonic soulmates: @aflairforthemelodramaticc and @translesbianfoxgirl

**** Formerly known as **** @princesssparkle42 **** @jaydovesworld **** Other blogs include **** @ask-skybluecmc, if you want to do some MLP OC RP **** @phoenix-of-grandeur, if you want to talk about your favorite games or mine (Though I also do that on main) **** @phiction-of-grandeur, if you want to talk about your stories or mine (Again I do that on main) **** @ask-the-felicity-crew, if you want to RP between your OCs and mine or ask me questions that I will answer as mine. The characters may or may not know they are fictional depending on when in the timeline you ask them.

****

@ask-simon-devlyn, same as the Felicity Crew, but centered around the captain, Simon Devlyn. On this blog Simon knows he's fictional.

**** I love talking to people and making new friends! I'm also creating my own story series called Starbourne. Wanna be friends in the gaming multiverse? Here are my Friend Codes:

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Steam: 111892045

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Nintendo Switch: SW-5163-5533-6136 ****

Musical Fandoms:

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Chrono Trigger

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Undertale

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EPIC

**** Show Fandoms: **** MLP **** Steven Universe **** The Owl House **** Amphibia

**** The Ghost and Molly McGee **** Sailor Moon **** Cardcaptor Sakura

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Infinity Train

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Spongebob Squarepants ****

More later

**** Game Fandoms: **** Any RPG that features Mario (Such as Super Mario RPG, the Paper Mario series, or the Mario and Luigi RPG series) **** Any indie game inspired by Paper Mario (Such as Bug Fables or Born of Bread) ****

Undertale and Deltarune ****

In Stars and Time

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Kirby

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Hollow Knight and Silksong **** Zelda (mainly just watching other people play them) **** Pokemon (see Zelda) **** Might add more later **** Book Fandoms: **** Percy Jackson et al **** Amari **** Serafina **** Might add more later ****

Webcomic Fandoms

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Homestuck

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Down to Earth

***** Donation Links

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Kofi

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Patreon

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PayPal

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Book 1 of my series, Starbourne, is FREE!! For the other books please donate $6 per book to one of the aforementioned links. I'm planning on making this a series of 9, but currently working on book 2.

Doing one of those note things for motivation (or notivation because notes lol)

25 notes - I do the dishes and clean out the litter box (done, for now... But these are Sisyphean tasks)

50 notes - I clean up around the house (I did a little cleanup, might do more later)

100 notes - I do a little work on my book (it still needs editing before I can publish it and write the sequel, but I'll do some work on that when my PC stops crashing)

250 notes - I start working on book 2 (or work harder on editing book 1 if it still needs it)

500 notes - I participate in artfight (in the first July after it reaches this threshold. I doubt it'll get there by this month.)

1k notes - I start working on a video game in the Starbourne multiverse. A small one, like Undertale is to Deltarune. I'm calling it Saturn Robe which is an anagram for Starbourne, like Undertale is for Deltarune.

2.5k notes - I start working on my dream game, Starbourne. The one that's the reason I started writing in the first place. (If the small game isn't finished I work harder on that)

5k notes - I dedicate my time to taking care of myself/my partner/my family, and working on my dream game.

10k notes - I become a god in the Tumblrverse (this will not happen)

If you want to know more about Starbourne, check out my other blog @phiction-of-grandeur and my community for more details. My askbox is always open if you want to ask me something.

Here's the first book now:

And here's a newer version of the first book, with (hopefully) better writing. It's gonna be longer than the draft above.

Here's the book on AO3 as well ^^

And here's my artfight link. It's new so there's nothing there yet. ^^^

Here's a game I made in Scratch back in 2012... I occasionally update it when I think of a new idea for an update. Feel free to ask me about Epic Kitty Hunt updates!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

What a Mess 1

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: thick!Bucky Barnes

Summary: Your new job isn't all that you expect. (maid AU – short!reader)

Note: hate me, baby.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You punch the code into the keypad. The instructions are in the app, under the corresponding address. It took you sometime to find the building, then a little longer to figure out how to work the elevator. As it stopped on the right floor, the grated door struck you with a glimmer of panic. 

Unlocked, you roll the door back to reveal the condo on the other side. Wow. It’s quite the place. Spacious. High ceilings, polished dark floors, tall counters. Well, everything is ‘big’ compared to you. The world is gargantuan in a way that makes you feel like a spec of dust. 

You set down your kit and roll in your vacuum. It’s a haul and a half and you felt a bit silly dragging it all up the front steps of the building. You always feel a bit ridiculous. Like you don’t belong. Even in a city so big that you’re invisible. 

You tap your earbud twice to turn the music up. You always keep one in to ward off the overstimulation of the New York chaos. It helps you through the hours of cleaning. 

You check the notes in the app. It’s a long list. The work isn’t new, just the place. They chose to give some of your old clients to newer cleaners and you took on the more particular ones. Zuli said it’s because you know how to get in and out without any hint that you were ever there. 

You start your cautious work. The client has included some very direct instructions. What you can and can’t touch. Alright, easy enough. You’re good with that. Details help. 

You get to the spiral staircase that leads up to loft bedroom. The instructions say to dust the railings and sweep the steps. It doesn’t really look like they need it but it can’t hurt. You’re paid to do the job. 

You start with the railings. Going top to bottom as you drag a microfibre cloth down the twisting ascent. You go back to the highest step with the broom, the task made awkward as the broom handle pokes through ceiling that would be the floor of the room above. It’s an interesting set up. 

As you bring the bristles across the metal step, a shadow shifts over you. The windows are tall enough to let the sky in. You ignore it until a voice startles you from above. “Got an extra cloth?” 

Your foot slips as a hand grabs the other end of the broom. You cling to the stick as another hand reaches to catch your arm. You squeak and look up at the man as he bends through the hatch door and keeps you from falling further. 

“Oh, I'm sorry,” you whittle out of your tight throat. 

“Careful,” he steadies you on the step until you get your balance. He lets go and steps back, standing above you as he looks down through the open hatch. “So, a cloth?” 

You tap your earbud to pause the music. You nod and give a wide blink. You turn and scurry down the spiral steps, dizzy by the bottom. You search your kit and take both the roll of paper towels and a microfibre cloth. You go back to him and offer both. 

You bat your lashes as you peer up at him. You know him. Well, you recognise him. The hair, the beard, the bright blue eyes. It's Bucky Barnes. What really gives him away are the metal fingers twiddling by his jeans. He bends to take the paper towel. 

“Thanks,” he rasps and walks away without another word. 

You don’t move for a moment. Then you set back to your work. You’re not there to ogle the famed super soldier. You have your list of tasks. You remember the underlined point on the list. Do not enter the loft.  

You make a slow descent down with the broom and gather the small cluster of dust in the pan. You dump it and begin on the lower floor. You get about halfway around the front room of the open-concept condo before the silence smacks you across the face. 

You hit play on your earbud. That’s better. You finish up with the sweep and start with the mop. You’re sure to use the gentle, unscented, all natural cleaner as specified in the app. You suppose a place this nice requires extra care. 

You bob as you clean, the rhythm of the music soothing your nerves. You can’t help by keep replaying your near disaster in your head. Imagine if you’d fallen down those stairs. That would have been painful and just as torturously humiliating. 

As you finish up, packing up your kit and tie up the trash bag to take out, you sense something behind you. You turn as you wait for the elevator to rise up and blanch at Bucky as he stands at the foot of the metal stairs. How hadn’t you heard him? 

He looks at you then around the apartment. You squirm, too tongue tied to speak. Better off that you don’t. Was that on the list? You can’t remember. 

“Looks good,” he says. 

His eyes meet yours and you flinch. His irises are a blue so bold and deep that they threaten to swallow you up like the sea. And the way he stands. His posture. He’s intimidating without trying. Or maybe you are a bit of a wuss. 

You press on your earbud, once more silencing the music. You wait for him to say something else. He doesn’t. He goes into the kitchen and opens the fridge.  

You hesitate and face the elevator again. Tension roils at your back as you hear the glass tingle followed by the hiss of a cap popping free. You push your shoulders up and lift your kit, hanging on tightly to the hose of the vacuum. 

He must deal with enough leers, he surely doesn’t need that from a cleaner. The elevator doors open and you step inside. You roll the vacuum into the corner and go to close the gate.  

Bucky appears at the threshold as he pulls it across himself. The whole time, his gaze doesn’t leave you. He hits the keypad on his side and the lock clicks before the outer doors roll across and block him from sight. You stay there, frozen, even as the elevator jolts into motion. 

Did you overstep? Miss a check on the list? You hope you didn’t mess this up already. You really hate starting all over again. You prefer to know what to expect than to have to keep guessing. 

[hy6erion]

Can I please- PLEASE request like a fluffy Jayce x reader…. I love this man feral as much as the next person but omg he has such good manners and is such a gentleman. Like obviously he’s popular in the academy but I wouldn’t be surprised if people fawn over like one time they bumped into him and he was super sweet about it. My brain can’t get rid of the idea of reader walking through the halls of the academy holding equipment/books- STRUGGLING. The things they are holding are too heavy or too tall for them to see over. When Jayce sees this he just can’t stand for it. When reader thanks him they comment on how sweet he is for helping and there’s just something about the way they said it that makes him need more. Jayce now finds himself glancing around when he should be paying attention to the important conversation just in case he sees them rounding the corner needing his help again. Wet dog coded man I just UGGHH- Sorry if this is boring as fuck I just can’t cook with prompts-

𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝?

𝐉𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✰⍣..𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐉𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧.

The Academy’s corridors always buzzed with movement, especially around midterms. A storm of students swept between classrooms with stacks of parchment, vials, and gear tucked under arms or magically levitating just inches from their shoulders. But even in that organized chaos, you stood out.

Not for anything dramatic—there were no explosions or golden runes trailing in your wake like some prodigious student of Hextech.

No, it was the way you struggled.

The stack of textbooks and equipment in your arms was too tall, teetering as you shuffled along, eyes completely hidden behind bindings and brass. A rolled schematic slipped a few centimeters out of place with every step. One wrong movement and you’d trigger an academic avalanche across the entire main hallway.

Jayce saw you out of the corner of his eye. He had been half-listening to a conversation about research funding—something he should care about. Professors, student body reps, all of them standing around in a little knot in front of the glass exhibit. But when you passed, laboring under a ridiculous amount of gear, your boot catching slightly on the lip of a stair—

He was gone before he even realized he’d stepped away.

“Woah—hey! Let me help with that” Jayce called, already reaching out to catch the top book before it tumbled.

You froze, startled, and then someone was lifting the stack clean out of your arms. Blessed weightlessness. You blinked through the space that had just been an impenetrable wall of pages and polished metal.

Jayce Talis.

Up close, he was even more golden than rumors suggested. Tousled hair, stupidly symmetrical face, and broad shoulders that made you acutely aware of how lopsided your bag was. He grinned, cocky but warm, holding your mountain of items like it weighed nothing.

“You were about two seconds from being buried alive“ he said, amusement dancing in his voice. “This for a project or are you training for a weightlifting competition?”

Your face flushed. “It’s—uh. Both? I mean—no. It’s for my Hex Design course. We have to submit schematics and physical models, and Professor Ghiren doesn’t believe in carts apparently.”

Jayce’s brow rose. “Ghiren? Yikes. That explains a lot.”

You laughed softly, and the sound tugged at something behind his ribs.

“Thanks“ you said, quieter now, but with a weight behind it that didn’t match the airy words. “You’re really sweet for helping.”

Sweet.

No one ever called Jayce that.

Brilliant? Sure. Talented? Absolutely. Arrogant? Frequently. But the way you said sweet—so genuine, almost in awe, like you weren’t just thanking him for help, but surprised by the kindness itself…

It landed somewhere deep in his chest. Settled there.

Jayce blinked, suddenly unsure of what to say. That wasn’t like him.

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, of course. Uh—want me to walk you to your lab?”

You gave a hesitant nod. “Only if it’s not a bother…”

“Not at all“ he said, already matching pace beside you. “You might need backup if Ghiren has you carting any more cursed prototypes.”

⸻

The whole thing took maybe ten minutes. Ten minutes of small talk, of you fumbling with your badge to open the lab door while Jayce carried your work like some personal bodyguard of academia. Ten minutes where he laughed at your commentary about your finicky prototype, and you—well, you smiled like you hadn’t expected him to understand what you were talking about. Like you were used to being brushed off.

When he handed the last of your equipment onto a cluttered table and left you with a casual wave and a “see you around” he told himself it was over. A nice moment. A good deed.

But—

Later, back at a student council meeting, his eyes flicked toward the door every time it opened.

Just in case it was you again.

Just in case you were overloaded, drowning in heavy boxes, needing a hand and smiling at him like that.

It became a pattern. Jayce would walk the long way to class under the pretense of “clearing his head”—but really, it was the hallway where he’d met you. He started recognizing the way your laugh echoed off stone walls, the exact squeak of your lab shoes. Sometimes you passed him in the halls with your head down, still juggling too many things, and his hand would twitch at his side, aching to take the weight again.

He didn’t even realize how obvious it was until Viktor elbowed him during a lecture.

“You’re doing it again.”

Jayce jerked his head back toward the front. “Doing what?”

“Looking for them“ Viktor said without missing a beat, voice dry. “Should I start building you a radar? Something to track when your favorite hallway gremlin is in distress?”

Jayce flushed. “I’m not—! I mean, I’m just—helping.”

Viktor hummed. “Sure. And I’m a seven-foot enforcer from Zaun.”

Jayce tried to ignore him, but it only got worse after the second time you needed help. He’d been in the courtyard, getting coffee, when he saw you wrestling with a crate of raw materials clearly meant for three people.

He crossed the entire quad in seconds.

“You again” he said, out of breath and smiling.

Your eyes lit up. “Jayce! You really are everywhere.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing” he grinned, taking the crate.

It was dangerous, the way you looked at him after that. Fond. Grateful. You didn’t ask questions, didn’t tease him about being famous, didn’t act like it was some passing favor. Just looked at him, said something like “You’re always so kind to me“ and smiled like he’d done something extraordinary.

Jayce could invent ten new technologies and he still wouldn’t feel as proud as he did in those moments.

⸻

Now, he doesn’t even pretend.

He lingers near the workshop halls when he knows your class is ending. Spends too long “testing” things on the lab floor just in case you walk by.

And when you do—

“Need a hand?”

Every single time, like clockwork. And every time, you let him. Your arms let go of the weight, and he carries it for you like it’s sacred. Like it’s the only thing that matters.

One time, you laugh and say, “You know, I think I’m starting to count on you being there.”

Jayce swallows hard. “Good. I want you to.”

You blink up at him.

“Want me to… what?”

“Count on me,” he says, too soft, too real. “Anytime.”

[luveline]

Hi lovely!!

Could I request a KBD fic centred around Beth and her being a little different? 🩷 I can’t remember but I think you’ve said before that you’ve written her autistic coded so I was wondering if you could do a fic that touches on that please! Being a girl who was also different and ‘weird’ and struggled to make friends it wasn’t just hard for me but my parents too so I feel like the dynamic between the reader and Steve has been portrayed so well and the way you write Beth is so so good

No worries if not! But if you get around to this then thank you in advance 🩷🩷

thank you for requesting ♥︎ —you and steve struggle to help beth, but you lean on him and he leans on you and beth eats her dinner in the end. mom!reader, 4.5k

You weren’t the most normal kid. Beth has some of your strange behaviours, but she has a whole new gallery of her own, too, and it’s just… You had Avery, and you had Beth, and you didn’t assume that Beth was somehow abnormal because she was different to her sister —who would that be fair too? But then you have Dove, and you realise that the things that Beth can’t handle are things that most kids can. It’s not so cut and clean as to suggest that kids can even be normal, they all have their quirks, but Beth needs far, far more support for things that should… well, they should be easy. Or that’s what everyone says. 

“Come on, my sweet girl,” you murmur, in that same place as last night and the night before, Beth in your lap, wriggling unhappily every time the spoon so much as leaves her plate, “just a couple more bites.” 

“I don’t want it,” Beth says quietly. She’s already crying, her cheeks wet and hot to the touch, t-shirt rumpled by a squeezing hand. 

“Baby, you eat this every night,” you say. 

You aren’t necessarily an expert, but you’re good at getting Beth to eat, even on her worst days. But for the last week she’s been declining, taking smaller mouthfuls, or trying to skip meals altogether. “I’m too tired,” she says, sniffling as you scoop a little mound of cheesy broccoli onto her favourite spoon. “I want to go to bed.” 

“Beth, honey, what am I supposed to do?” you ask. Steve clears his throat, and you wince. “Sorry, baby. I’m sorry. But you didn’t eat your breakfast, or your lunch. It’s really important that you feed your body, isn’t it? What if you get sick?” 

Steve’s hovering nearby, his arms crossed against his chest. You try to give Beth as much privacy as possible when you do this, because you know she’s ashamed of herself when Avery asks her why she can’t eat her dinner, ’cos it’s so yum, Bethie, daddy makes it the best, but you know Steve can’t leave. 

“I’ll eat breakfast tomorrow,” Beth says, a fat tear rolling down her cheek.

Fuck, it’s such a big tear that you push her dinner plate away and let your sleeve fall over your thumb, wiping it as gently as you’re able to. “Shh,” you say quietly, rubbing at her little cheeks until they’re dry. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. Did mom make you cry so much?” 

“I don’t want to eat it,” she sniffles. 

“Aw, baby, it’s okay. I won’t make you eat the broccoli and cheese.” 

Steve pulls the chair next to yours out slowly. He sits quietly. His hand is careful when he puts it on Beth’s small arm. “Hey, Bethie.” 

“Hi.” 

He smiles, but he's already super sorry. “You know what I’m gonna ask you, but you can say no, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

She sounds even sadder than he does. 

“Will you drink one of the milkshakes?” he asks, wiping at a new tear before it can reach her chin.  

Beth automatically hides against you. You tut under your breath, pity and love for her like a hand squeezing your heart as you wrap her into a proper hug. “It’s okay if you can’t, baby,” you say, though it isn’t, not really. You just can’t see her like this much longer. She’s boiling away in your lap, so overwhelmed that you’re lucky she hasn’t started scratching her neck —Steve hates it so much it brought tears to his eyes the last time she did it. 

“It’s alright, honey. Should we leave the kitchen?” You hold her face. “How about we go to mommy’s room? Would that make you feel better?” 

She sobs out a yes. 

“She’s not gonna be able to go to school tomorrow,” Steve murmurs as you gather her up. 

“I know,” you murmur back, pressing Beth’s shaking body to you. She’s getting tall like Avery, skinnier than you’d pictured, but she’s still super soft, plush cheeked, a weight in your arms as you push in your chair with your knee. “I’ll stay home too. I’ll…” 

“Call the doctor?” Steve mouths. 

“Yeah. Maybe.” You sigh, pressing your nose into Beth’s forehead tiredly. “Let’s go to bed, sweet girl.” 

“Thank you,” she says. 

“C’mon, Beth, it’s alright,” you say, half a lie. “Don’t worry about it. You tried your best tonight, didn’t you? You ate so much of your dinner even though you didn’t want to, ‘cos you’re my good girl.” 

Beth clings to your neck all the way to your bed. She refuses to be detached from you, even when Steve offers her a cuddle to give you a breather. It’s been hours of this, of her upset, and of you failing to convince her. She falls asleep between sobs, sniffling and shaky in your arms, and you don’t realise you’re crying until Steve’s wiping your cheeks with the same care he’d wiped at Beth’s. “It’s fine,” he murmurs.

“Sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” he says again. “She’s fine.” 

He climbs up onto a knee to kiss your forehead. 

—

The doctor doesn’t actually want to deal with it. “She won’t eat?” he asks you over the phone. 

“Nope.” 

“Nothing at all?” 

“Uh, she’ll eat fruit slices if we beg her too.” Your voice is scratchy with the admission. “A little of dinner, but only what she likes.” 

“So she can eat?” 

“It’s not–” You clear your throat. Steve rests an encouraging hand on your arm. “Not really that simple. She can eat, like, she can chew and swallow, but I can’t get her to finish anything. She just cries.” 

“Does she have a fever?” 

“No, she’s not sick. She gets like this sometimes, but I’ve always… we’ve always been able to wait it out.” 

“Right… is she lethargic at all?” 

“A little? She’s not eating enough.” 

“But she can get up? She can walk around?” 

“Yeah.” 

The doctor or assistant sighs long, slow, and it drives you up a wall. “Is she a picky eater?” 

“Extremely.” 

“The best thing to do is to tell her she eats what’s on her plate or she doesn’t get dinner.”

For a second, you’re so shocked at his answer that you can’t summon your own. 

“She’ll get hungry enough eventually,” he continues.

“I’m not going to let her starve.” Steve stiffens next to you. 

“It sounds like she is already. Kids do this, they test the boundaries because they’ve only now realised they have them. I guarantee you she’ll be eating normally by the end of the week, so long as you don’t bend to her every whim.” 

“That’s– that is not really helpful.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Beth won’t eat. We make her her favourites every night and she won’t eat it. Why would she eat something she doesn’t like later on? She doesn’t care that she’s hungry, she can’t eat.” 

“Let me talk to him,” Steve says.

“I got it.” 

“Let me talk to him,” he says again, taking the phone from your hand. 

Steve doesn’t shout like you’re expecting, but it’s a good thing, really. “Sir, hi, it’s Bethie’s dad… Yeah, it doesn't matter what she’s offered, or how little she’s eating, she won’t eat more than a handful at a time, and not for hours.” He rests his other hand on your shoulder. “No, no, it’s– I’m not asking you to admit her, we don’t want her back on the kids ward again this year– We want an answer. No. No, because this isn’t normal.” 

Steve’s brow screws up. 

“What’s he saying?” you whisper.

He holds up a finger

“No. No, she’s never…” He stares at your cheek. “We’ve never looked at that. No. And that doesn’t really answer us for what we should do today. She won’t eat today. She’s gonna collapse and then…” 

He rolls his eyes and offers you the phone. “Hopeless.” 

The doctor sighs across the line as you press the phone back against your ear. “Normal kids don’t need to be coddled into eating dinner, is all I’m saying.” 

“And it’s not helping.” 

“Clearly, Mrs. Harrington, you don’t really want my help. I’ve given you the solutions.” 

“We want her to see a doctor.” 

“Take her by Eskenazi general.”

You slam the phone down on the receiver. “Fucking asshole,” you scathe under your breath. 

“What did he say?” 

“He said to do what he said or to take her to Eskenazi. What did he say to you?” 

“He said she…” 

You duck your head. “Steve?” 

“He said she could be disabled, like– like she’s ‘touched’, he said, and a bunch of other jargon. But what the fuck ever, right? Dude’s an asshole.” 

“What kind of disabled?” you ask. 

“I don’t know, I didn’t know the word. He said we can get her tested.” 

You shake your head vehemently. You’ve seen how people treat one another when they���re different; you have no inclination to expose Beth to the world's judgment. “She doesn’t need to get tested, she’s just Beth. And– and if they won’t help me look after her then I’ll do it myself.” 

“…Maybe it could help.” 

“With what, Steve? So we have a word for her? She’s my Beth.” 

“Maybe knowing she’s different might help her to understand. Maybe it’ll… I don’t know.” He scratches at his scalp. “I don’t know.” 

You get where he’s coming from, because you’ve known Bethie was different for a while now, for years. You just can’t see how this will help her through dinner tonight. She’s gonna starve herself if you aren’t careful.

“I’m gonna go out and get more stuff,” you say, closing a hand around his fingers to hold. 

“Like what?” 

“She has these phases, right? So– so maybe she hates broccoli and cheese now, but she hated it before when– when she liked those little quesadillas you make. So I’m gonna go and get some tortillas and cheese and stuff and you’re gonna make that for lunch.” 

Steve holds your eyes. His are brown, and gentle, and pinched at you hopefully. “Yeah, okay. What else can we do?” 

Beth did not want to eat or even smell a quesadilla the last time Steve made them, but you’re running out of choices. 

“I don’t know.” 

He holds your eyes, unspeaking. 

“She’s different,” you concede quietly, “I just never wanted her to know that.” 

“I think she knows, baby.” 

You think about letting yourself burst into tears. Steve would let you. He’d hold you and kiss you and tell you that it’s okay —everything will be okay, you know that already. But if you break down Steve will make sure it’s hammered home. He’ll stop all the worry and heartache for a bit, just like he always does. 

“I’ll go now, while she’s still asleep.” 

Steve gives you a sad smile, as though he knows what you almost did. “Sure, honey. Take my car, okay?”

—

You bring back cheese and candies and enough chocolate to have each of your girls kissing up all night to a house that’s only just begun to stir despite the hour. Nearly noon, Beth lays wrinkled with her head in Avery’s lap. Avery plays with her hair, their own bubble of love you’re not privy too whispered into Beth’s small ear, while Dove plays with Beth’s socks. Even Wren seems to have come to understand that Beth isn’t feeling like herself, your littlest baby standing unsurely at the base of the couch, holding on to the edge for dear life as she babbles hellos. 

Steve sits on the playmat, ready to catch Wren when she stumbles back. “Hey,” he says. 

“Hey.”

“Busy?” 

“Weirdly busy for a Thursday morning.” You smile at your girls gently. “Hey, sweethearts. Good morning, did everyone sleep okay?” 

“Mom, come hug,” Dove says immediately, her voice still scratched by sleep. 

“I gotta put this away!” you coo. “But you can help lighten the bag a bit.” 

You give Dove a white chocolate bunny. Avery gets a milky truffle the size of her palm. Wren gets a chocolate yoghurt, and Beth gets a pack of kisses. “No pressure, Bethie.” You give Avery the kisses, rather than make Beth hold them, vindicated when the quick flash of dread on her face is replaced with relief. “You can throw them all away if you want to, but I didn’t want to leave you out.” 

“Thanks, mom,” she says. 

“Yeah, of course. I don’t even want the thank you, Beth, I just like seeing you smiling.” 

“I got the day off school too,” Avery says. “To look after Beth.” 

“How do you feel, Beth? Well looked after?” 

Beth manages a real smile. “Yes.” 

You put the groceries away and appear with one of Beth’s old favourites: raspberry yoghurt drinks. You don’t offer her one, only sit on the floor by Steve with one in your hand. You give it a shake and peel off the foil. Steve glances at you from the corner of his eye. 

“What you got?” 

“Raspberry.” 

“Yum. Sharing?” 

You take a sip and pass it to your husband. He drinks a little. “Wait, they’re nicer than I remember.” 

“You think?” 

Wren slams onto her butt, but luckily her diaper saves her bones and she giggles as Steve goes, “Oopsy daisy, what a clutz you are.” 

She leans back and stares at Steve with wide, baby-pretty eyes. ”Wen?” she asks. 

“Wren wants some?” 

Wren babbles. “Yeah!” she says eventually. 

Steve helps her into his lap, four babies later and still the most gentle guy in the world. “Ready?” he asks, pressing the lip of the yogurt to her mouth. “Here you go, Wren. That’s it, honey, good job. How is that, is that yummy?” 

“Can I have some?” Dove asks. 

“I’ll get you your own one,” you say, scrabbling up. “Don’t want all Wren’s spit.” 

Dove drinks hers in a long pull. Avery nibbles her milky truffle. Beth, surrounded by food, looks a bit sickly, and she’s quiet for the next hour. You take them all upstairs for baths they should’ve had last night and outfit them in blue loungewear to match one another. Beth doesn’t look any better for it. She’s sweaty as you sit her back on the couch, but she manages to smile when you tickle the arch of her foot between socks. 

With Avery playing on her tummy in the toy corner (or, the toy half), and Dove following Steve around in the kitchen, you stick Wren next to you on the couch and try to relax. Beth will eat if she needs to. And if she doesn’t, you’ll take her to the ER and sob yourself sick when they tube her. 

“Oh, Beth,” you murmur. 

“Oh, mom,” she says. 

You side-eye her. She’d said it with a smile, and she’s still smiling as she lays her face against your shoulder. 

“What’s funny?” 

“You sounded funny.” 

You let Wren crawl on your knees. She curls up with her face to your stomach, gurgling until you pet her back. “You sound funnier.” 

“Are you angry at me?” 

You frown at her. “No, never.” 

“Even though I wasted dinner again?” 

“You didn’t waste dinner yesterday, you just didn’t like it. Not your fault.” You follow the slope of her nose with your eyes. “Do you understand what that means, that it isn’t your fault? Me and daddy know you can’t help it. So it’s okay. And everybody stops liking stuff sometimes. I used to like apple juice, but when I was pregnant with you I had a glass of it that made me feel so sick that I haven’t had it since. Sometimes, we just change our minds.” 

“But I thought I liked it,” she confesses. 

“That’s okay. Daddy thinks he likes lettuce, but he has to pull it out of every sandwich.” 

Beth giggles, rubbing her face in your arm. “That’s funny.” 

Your face never looked so lovely as it does on Beth. Even though her eyes are swollen from all her crying the day before and her lips are crusty with toothpaste, she’s sweet. You scratch the toothpaste away carefully and wrap her up for a one armed hug, Wren underneath it, Beth’s arms snaking around her to return your cuddle. 

“I know it’s not easy, Beth. I don’t expect you to feel good right now. But if you want to talk to mommy and tell me what you’re thinking about, I can listen. Even if the feeling feels silly.” 

“I don’t want to…” She fades off. 

“Don’t want to eat dinner?” you guess. 

She doesn’t answer. 

“Beth, you don’t have to eat dinner if you can’t. The important thing is that you eat something. For now, it can be anything. If there’s one single thing you think you can eat, then I can get it for you, and I won’t… Beth, I just want you to know that it doesn’t matter what you need me or daddy or even Avery or anyone to do so you can eat something. I’ll drive you to New York if you think you want a slice of pizza.” 

“Why to New York?” she asks, her nose wrinkling. 

“That’s where they make it the best.” 

“I… don’t want you to be sad with me,” she whispers. 

“I don’t mind. You don’t make me sad, you know. I just want you to eat.” 

“Even if…” She looks down at your tummy, where Wren wriggles and snuffs. 

“Anything.” 

“Can I have honey ham?” 

You feel your eyebrows rise of their own accord. “Honey ham? Like daddy makes at Christmas?” 

She nibbles her lip. “Yeah.” 

“Okay.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes.” You take a deep breath, pressing your nose into her hair. “It doesn’t have to be for Christmas. I like daddy’s honey ham. Thing is, he’ll have to go to the store and get the ham and the honey so it might take a while. Is that okay?” 

“Can I have bread too?” 

“With butter?” you ask, too casual. Luckily she doesn’t notice. 

“Yeah.” 

“Like, a ham sandwich?” 

“I don’t want the ham in the bread.” 

“Okay,” you say, failing to hide your relief. It comes out in a sigh. “Honey ham and bread and butter. How about we pretend it’s Christmas and daddy can make the whole feast?” 

“Like, the potato’s and the sweet mash?” she asks. 

“Sure, if you want that. Even if you don’t want to eat any of it, it won’t go to waste. I love dad’s Christmas cooking.” 

She lifts her head to stare at you. “Really?” she asks again. 

“Beth, I just want you to eat, bubby,” —you sound as tired as you feel— “I don’t mind what you’re craving. I know it’s hard to eat food you don’t want to eat. It’s hard for you, you’re just a kid. You don’t get to choose. But I promise I’ll try my best when you’re feeling like this, okay? So– so no more crying at dinner,” you say, though you’re really pleading with her in a way, “‘cos I can’t stand seeing my lovely girl crying.” 

She shrugs off your loving but changes her mind at the last second, curling under your arm. 

“Can the ham be cold?” she asks quietly. 

“Yes. That’s no problem.” 

“Okay.” 

“Beth?” 

Beth tips her head upwards. 

“I know you’re different,” you say, holding her gaze, those baby wide eyes, “and you know you’re different, too. But it doesn’t matter to me or your dad, okay? I won’t get angry with you for the things that you can’t change. And… maybe, if you feel different in a way that confuses you or…” I don’t know, you think, grasping for the right words. “If it sounds like a good idea, maybe we can go talk to somebody. A doctor.” 

Her lips part. “Like Dr. Scandi?” she asks under her breath. 

Dr. Scandi is the paediatrician that treated her when she had her horrible flu, who she liked, because he was very tall and very quiet. “I don’t know. I just want you to know that you’re not alone. That I’ll try to fix things if they need fixing.” 

Beth is perhaps a little too young to understand what you’re trying to say, but, like she has ever since she was a baby, she softens at your tone. “I like talking to you,” she whispers. 

“I like talking to you.” 

Beth nods. You offer her a kiss. 

—

Steve makes his summer Christmas banquet and Beth, beautiful girl, eats three slices of bread with salted butter, and she eats every bit of honeyed ham that touches her plate. She even has a raspberry yoghurt after. 

Her empty stomach pangs at the sudden influx. Steve gathers her up and gives her one of his trademark post-dinner tummy rubs, her back to his front, the two of them in the bean bag. He rubs her stomach until she burbs, and laughs, and goes sleepy as a fieldmouse in a flower. 

Dove falls asleep before eight. Wren goes down at nine. And Avery, after a couple of minutes sitting with her legs swinging off of your thigh, asks to be put to bed as the sun’s going down behind the house. You turn off all the lights, lock the doors, and follow her to a still upstairs, Steve behind you with dozing Beth in his arms. 

“You okay, big girl?” you ask, pulling the sheets over Avery’s legs as she settles down. 

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” she says. 

“Thank you, baby. I was just stressed out about Beth, that’s it. I’m happy long as you’re all happy.” You raise an eyebrow at her. “Are you happy?” 

“I had a good day,” she says decidedly. 

You cuddle her, her shoulders shifting under your hands. She’s gonna get big soon. She’s almost at that age where they shoot straight up into teenagedom the second you look away, so you refuse to look away. “I’m glad you did, Ave. Thanks for looking after Beth today. You did a great job.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Want me to put a movie in?”

She beams. You shove FernGully in and sit with her for a little while things are quiet, smiling indulgently against her forehead as her eyelids start to flutter. 

“Love you,” you whisper.

“Love you, mommy,” she whispers back, her ‘you’ nearly lost, a stutter of a sound as she falls asleep against your side. 

You wait five minutes before easing out from beneath her. Her hair brushes her pillow, nose sinking into her buttery pillow case, breath rustling out of her as you pull the sheets over her shoulders and crouch by her bedside. You smile at her. Give her cheek a quick stroke.

“You alright?” Steve asks. 

His uttering is so soft you don’t startle, though you hadn’t known he was waiting in the doorway. Your answer is a hum as you stand, and his is a hand on your arm as he pulls Avery’s door closed and leads you to bed. 

With Wren moved to the nursery with Dove, you and Steve find yourself alone for the first time since the early morning. Things are quiet while you undress, though he does his usual routine and helps you with the tie on your pajama bottoms before going back to his own clothes. You pull the end of his shirt from his pants and slide a hand underneath it, feeling at the small of his back for stretch marks. Your finger bumps along them and up, until you're massaging at the space between his shoulders and he’s laughing under his breath. “Stop, stop.” 

“You okay?” you ask. 

He relaxes under your ministrations. “I’m fine. You know, I heard you talking to Beth, earlier. Not all of it, but most of it. When you told her she’s not alone, that stuff, I don’t know. I was so proud of you, even though you didn’t need that from me.” He turns his face to see you over his shoulder. You rub at a notch with your thumb. “I mean, you got her to eat. You always do.” 

“She would’ve had to eventually. You’re the one that made dinner.” 

“I don’t think she could’ve told us what she wanted if you didn’t give her all that patience.” 

You don’t ignore him, but you have nothing to say. You could tell him you love him, but he knows. Could say thank you, but you’re not confident you won’t cry, and you don’t want the headache. So you draw a pattern over his back with your fingernails, resting your mouth on his shoulder. 

“I love you,” he says. 

“I love you, too.” 

“I get if you’re, like, tired, and this is too much for now, but… this has been a lot. I just want you to know that you’re there for them and I’m here for you, remember?” 

“I know.” 

You don’t wanna talk, but you know. 

Steve forces your hand down as he turns to you, rings of  purple under his eyes doing little to hide how handsome he is when he smiles at you like you’re hanging the moon up right in front of him. He’s all gentled almond eyes and his deeply kissable nose. You let yourself trace the wrinkles in the corners of his mouth. Smiling, you press a kiss to one of them. 

“I’m proud of you, too.” 

He kicks your shin. “Get to bed.” 

“I’m busy.” 

He kicks you again and pushes you into bed. 

“I’m sorry about all of this. I know it isn’t my fault, but I,” —Steve kisses your nose— “hate seeing you like that. Like this. Want you to smile.” 

“I’ll feel better tomorrow.” 

He climbs on top of you, putting his chin on top of your head and his leg hooked on top of your hips, pulling at your back until you curl into him nicely; he’ll have to move the sheets before he sleeps, just it’s comfy puzzled in like this. 

“We gotta find out what’s really happening with her,” he says. 

That’s more tentative. He’s hugging you to distract you, and it’s doing the job. You don’t feel as scared as you did this morning when he suggested the same thing. “I know. What was that word he said, the doctor?” 

“Autist.” 

You’ve read about it before. “I heard it was just a boy thing,” you mumble. 

Steve lets his hand slip beneath your ribs. “Maybe there’s a girl version…”

You lift your head away to see him better. “You know, no matter how different she is, we’re all gonna be fine.” 

“I know that, I told you that.” 

“Just wanted to make sure.” 

He noses along your jaw. “Guess what.” 

“What?” 

“We didn’t brush our teeth.” 

You let out a string of long-suffering sighs, agonised. Steve laughs and presses a kiss to your open mouth, promising you taste as good as you look, though he won’t claim the same in the morning. 

[ducksido]

Can I request a yuu that owns a python for a pet? With Deuce, Ace, Idia and Cater. Yuu treats their python like their own child and even keeps the snake's shed as treasure. Scenario or headcanons please. Keep up the good work and make sure you're okay

General Yuu Headcanons:

Yuu lovingly refers to their python as “my baby,” “my angel,” or sometimes just “sweet noodle.”

The snake lives in a custom enchanted enclosure that mimics their natural habitat, complete with heat lamp charms and illusion spells for humidity.

Yuu keeps every shed skin in a labeled shadow box with dates like, “First full shed in Twisted Wonderland 💖.”

Yuu regularly hand-feeds the python (usually frozen mice defrosted and warmed up), sings to it, and lets it drape around their shoulders like a living scarf during strolls around Ramshackle.

Deuce Spade

At first? Terrified. He tries to be tough but jumps when the python flicks its tongue at him.

“W-Whoa! It’s not poisonous, right?? Wait—venomous! I mean—Yuu?! It’s on your face!!”

Once Yuu explains the python is harmless and even-tempered, Deuce really tries to be brave for their sake.

He starts reading about reptiles so he won’t seem dumb. Ends up knowing a lot about snake biology and even suggests better heating enchantments for the terrarium.

Secretly proud when the python seems to “choose” his lap to curl up on one day. (“Do you think he… likes me??”)

Treats the shed skins like sacred scrolls. Helps Yuu frame them like priceless art.

Ace Trappola

“Okay, but, like… you kiss that thing??”

Teases Yuu constantly about being a “snake parent” but also becomes very protective of the python after spending time with it.

Gets low-key jealous when the snake curls around Yuu but not him.

Tries to “bribe” the snake with warm hands and treats. It tolerates him. He pretends it loves him.

“This is our baby now, right? I’m the cool uncle. Wait—no—I’m the stepdad who earns its trust with snacks.”

Calls the shed skins “reptile receipts” but still helps Yuu clean and mount them. Makes jokes about selling them as “organic fashion accessories.”

Idia Shroud

Immediately fascinated. “Wha—waitwaitwait, is it a ball python? What morph? Can I scan it?”

Scared to touch it at first, but Ortho encourages him. Ends up spending hours watching it in its enclosure like a calming stream.

“It’s like watching a super elegant boss monster just vibe. This is peak NPC pet energy.”

He and Yuu geek out about terrarium enchantments. Helps code a temperature-monitoring glyph system with holographic status alerts.

Finds the shed skin beautiful and saves a digital model of it for art references. Makes a tiny 3D-printed charm out of one and gives it to Yuu.

Let’s Yuu’s python slither around his dark room because he likes how it glows under his gaming setup.

Cater Diamond

“OMG!! Is this your sss-sweet lil danger noodle? 😍”

Takes a million selfies with the python—filters, glitter edits, and all. Posts: “#NRCPetGoals #SnakeParent”

At first a little squeamish, but he sees how much Yuu loves it and warms up fast. Carries the snake around like a model accessory at one point.

Buys it a cute little hat. Yuu: “Cater no.” Cater: “Cater yes.”

Hypes up Yuu constantly for their care. “You treat this snake like a little prince/princess—it's adorable. You’ve got major ‘cool cryptid mom’ vibes.”

Helps Yuu design a memory album with each shed skin preserved next to photos of how the python looked during that time.

[liberaljane]

Reproductive labor is work -- typically designated to women -- that is required to sustain human life. It's unpaid, and is often invisible or unnoticed.

This includes tasks like cooking, cleaning, caring for children and more necessary to raise future generations. It's time to bring visibility to this labor, and acknowledge it for what it is: work. Far too many women and fems take on the bulk of household and domestic tasks in addition to having full time jobs -- also known as the 'second shift.' It's time to end gender inequality at home.

I was super excited to work with @Momcozy, who is working to provide comfort and companionship to parents from pregnancy through your child's early years. ❤️ parenthood is already hard enough, why not be comfy? their hands-free pump allow for on-the-go feeding and is designed with your body in mind.

There should be NO moral judgment given to how people choose to feed their children. Formula & chestfeeding are both valid. You have to do what’s best for you, your baby and your life

💚 Wanna try their products yourself? Momcozy is offering 10% off with code LIBERALJANE

* * Image description: Digital illustration of six parents doing different jobs related to chestfeeding. Around the circle shows, 'pumping, bottle warming, feeding, cleaning, storage and burping.' In the center there is text that reads, 'every mom is a working mom.'