#Vision Function in Learning

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

thinking abt ward's interrogation again, or, specifically the leadup to it, when they're talking abt whether arthur can fight, and.

yknow, i wonder if john's ever actually processed how hard it is for arthur to do all this shit blind. not, like, in an emotional sense, they've talked about that already, that he misses his vision, i mean on a practical level. john's never even had to walk around normally in a human body as a fully sighted person. idk if he even has the context to imagine what it would be like to have to do all that shit while working solely on incomplete live audio descriptions and having to pretend he can see the whole time. arthur doesn't tend to make a big deal out of that aspect of it, really, so i feel like john maybe just assumes it's easy without really examining that assumption at all.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

a mode & style of communication serving purposes & potentially being learned though it's also supposed to be fully "natural" to those using it & then promoting it based on just those contexts while also acknowledging the context of "this is a requirement as an aspect of broader hierarchal systems" only to dismiss it. well Small Talk (still only a normal enough kind please. no Dumping no communicative styles beyond the content spoken which is Weird. & you certainly must speak) is important & actually it has functions & actually you can learn to be better at it & i'm autistic myself & i learned myself & i'm treated less worse than i otherwise would be if i hadn't so checkmate "requiring everyone do 'small talk' is ableism"ists

[projectchampionz]

Explore These Exciting DSU Micro Project Ideas

Explore These Exciting DSU Micro Project Ideas Are you a student looking for an interesting micro project to work on? Developing small, self-contained projects is a great way to build your skills and showcase your abilities. At the Distributed Systems University (DSU), we offer a wide range of micro project topics that cover a variety of domains. In this blog post, we’ll explore some exciting DSU…

[daveinediting]

The idea I'm trying to get on its feet comes with built-in drama regarding who we are, what we are, and how we are. At the heart of this drama's a question: does learned knowledge matter?

Is there a difference between reading, summarizing, and analyzing Shakespeare's "A Midsummer Night's Dream"... versus prompting for a summary and analysis then reading that?

Is there any point to putting in the mental work that's usually prescribed by teachers and professors the world 'round?

Hmmm.

I'm gearing up to say the answer's an emphatic YES, only...

While my creative process is based on imagination, on designing in my head... in order to manifest that vision, if I don't know how to do a certain thing...

I look it up.

Hypocrite much?

So there's that.

That, however, is what dumped me onto the path I'm currently on. The one that's comparing how my brain naturally works to how it might work if I outsourced a lot of what I'm using it for now.

So I already put a lot of thought into how my brain works because understanding that's helped me to be better at doing what I do. Editing. Composing. Sometimes motion design.

I have a process that's based on what I know about me. It's a process that continues to be successful, repeatable, and seemingly inexhaustible. So my concern definitely seems legit.

I trust this process completely.

My bias, then, because of my experience, because of my conclusions, is that the knowledge we onboard sculpts us, defines who we are, what we are, and how we are. 

The 500 billion dollar question, of course, is...

Which knowledge?

Which knowledge sculpts us?

Because obviously (to me) I don't onboard all knowledge. I choose what I onboard and what I collect on the fly, as I need it, in real time.

So yeah. Which knowledge...

And how much of it?

[nanamisdollie]

corruption kink with rin? pls >_<

sweet bf rin corrupting his cute gf⋆ 𐙚 ̊.

smut, mdni. characters aged up!! cw: degrading, corruption, dubcon!!

“keep your legs open. i’m not telling you again.”

rins tone was gruff, his lips grazing your thigh while he held your legs apart. everything had happened so fast; one minute you were telling your sweet quiet boyfriend about your day and the next you were pushed back onto the couch, skirt flipped up and panties around your ankles.

all you had said was it had been a long day and rin was straight to wanting to help you relax however he could.

you learned pretty quickly into your relationship with the soccer star that he was obsessive. he got addicted to things and once he decided he wanted something, he was gonna have it. thats exactly how he was with your cunt.

“mmph- don’t be s-so rough”

“shut up. let me stretch your little hole…gotta prep it before i can use it properly”

your breath is shaky as you sit up partially. you push him back by his forehead making his dark hair fall out of his face, his teal eyes locking with yours.

“m’ not ready yet rin…”

you made it clear you were a virgin a few months into seeing each other. he didn’t have much of a reaction, just shrugged it off and went on with whatever you two had been doing.

when you did begin taking things to another level, he was always soft. he praised you in his own unique way, would press kisses to every part of your skin he could, carefully push a single finger inside of you, eyes never moving from you; like missing just one of your reactions would ruin the whole experience.

lately though? something had changed with him;

hands slipping up your skirt to grab ur asscheeks when you went out together, ‘honey’ swapped out for ‘needy girl’, lingering touches that screamed i need you. maybe it was stress, maybe he was just too pent up, you didnt know but you didnt question it. not when he knew how to circle his thumb over ur twitching clit just right to have you cumming in minutes.

“still? come on, dont act dumb. i know you want it” rin sits up from between your legs, his clothed hips slotting against your bare hips. your cunt fluttered, drooling onto the couch feeling the bulge in his sweats against your skin.

“just want you rinnie~”

that did it.

maybe it was the stupid nickname he hated or that sweet tone of voice you only ever had with him. maybe it was the fact that you wanted him, only him. whatever it was made a flip switch.

“yeah? want me?”

swiftly two cool hands grip the backs of your thighs and press them to your chest. a choked whine was the single reaction you could give before his clothed cock is pushing against your folds. his hips rut into you at an agonizingly slow pace that contradicts the grip of his hands. his tip is pressed flush against the dampening grey fabric stopping him from using you properly, barely pushing into your tight unused cunt.

“youve got me now dummy-“ wet lips press to your temple “-you feel that? gonna fuck it into you raw next time, hows that sound?”

your brains barely functioning, too much at once but its so damn good. high pitched whimpers with every roll of rins hips, tongue lolling from parted lips. maybe you did need his cock…

“huh- you need it? fuckin’ knew it”

shit. you said that out loud? were you that fucked out from just this? was just the feeling of your sweet boyfriends mushroom tip violating your hungry cunt enough to have you babbling out your own thoughts?

“yesyesyes- fuck! need it, need you!” drool falls from the corner of your mouth as he attempts to bend you further in half, one of his hands grabbing your skirt and pushing it up so he can get a better view of the mess you were making

dark hair falls into your vision while his hips begin to work harder to get both of you off. rins breathing consists of strained whines and huffs, his eyes still locked on where the two of you meet.

“gonna ruin you- fuckk- wanna make it..make it so no guy can ever use this pussy- ngh- besides me. all fuckin’ mine“

the warmth in ur lower stomach is building with every word he throws out. you dont care if theyre icky, you dont care if theyre mean, you get it now. you want him to ruin you.

“pleasepleaseplease!” you huff out a whimper “m’ all y-yours, ruin me- mmph- please rinnie!”

his hips stutter with a choked sob. then you feel it; something sticky seeping through the fabric that had been humping into you. rins head falls into your shoulder while he catches his breath, mumbling incoherent words against your skin. when he finally sits up and sees the finished mess on not only his pants but your lips he is lowering himself back between your aching thighs to get a taste.

“did it get inside…?” you sound worried as you question him, bottom lip pushed out in a pout

“gonna have to check” his thumbs push your folds apart, getting a good look at your pulsing hole. he presses a gentle kiss to your clit followed by another kiss to your cunt “don’t worry; ill clean you up if any did…cant have you getting knocked up before ive even fucked you properly”

tysm for requesting ^.^ i heart rin so much ohmygod. i never have thought about him being into corruption so i hope i did it some justice!!

[astrow1zar6]

Astrology Observations~44

Capricorn risings have A LOT of sex appeal. Their serious nature makes them look smart asf and hot. They can be pretty arrogant though.

Scorpio moons are usually really passionate about music and make the best musicians. (It’s no surprise why most famous artists have this moon sign). Example; Beyoncé, Lady Gaga, Miley Cyrus…

Venus in the 7th house synastry is the best 7th house placements to have with a partner imo. (Especially if the man is the Venus person) he will literally kiss the ground you walk on.

Neptune in the 1st house is beneficial for attractiveness and magnetism but bad in terms of stable mental health. These people usually go thru so much. This placement can be very mentally/emotionally exhausting. They thru a lot of identity crisises (Atleast you’re hot though).

Pisces suns/mercs jump to conclusions A LOT. They are either spot on or completely delusional lmao (usually it’s a good 50/50😭).

Cancer sun/risings have very round circular head shapes (like the moon).

Leo Venuses are abnormally good at drawing & art from what I’ve noticed. They also have very good fashion sense. They look very expensive in general even if they don’t come from a lot of money.

People with Taurus in the 12th house tend to use people for their money & material goods. I notice this is a big leech placement when underdeveloped. I’ve seen people grown asf with full time jobs & still expected people to pay for them. Especially if you’ve emotionally betrayed them they can guilt you into giving them things.

Pisces moons are surprisingly very hard headed at times & usually don’t learn from past mistake’s quickly. I love this placement but I notice a lot tend to make pretty poor life choices if not properly guided.

Having Saturn & Jupiter in the same house can be very odd to have. I have mine both in the 4th house and although I was raised very poor I had a lot of rich family who would take me on vacation with them and go to other countries… so even though I was poor i experienced a lot of things most poor people never experienced. We also had big family gatherings but at the same time we were all very emotionally distant from eachother and just got together to try uk. We all had a shitty relationship with each-other but we cared enough to really try and act like a functional family. Also my family started off very small when I was young (Saturn influence) (me my mom and my grandma and uncle) then got really big as I aged (Jupiter influence). I had to grow up very fast when I was young because of my financial situation(Saturn) but I was very favorable in my family so my rich family was usually very supportive in helping me and my mom (Jupiter). It’s such a push pull effect with Saturn & Jupiter in the same house (one house restricts the other expands). Lmk your guys experience with this in the comments!

Saturn in the 3rd house people had a harder time communicating with others & usually struggled in academics. Could’ve needed extra help growing up. This gives a similar vibe to having a Merc in retrograde imo.

Having a Libra rising in a composite chart can be so annoying for the people around (especially if the people around you are single) you guys will be attached at the hip & usually get along so beautifully as a couple. But this can be a big PDA placement and can give a bit of tunnel vision where u ignore everyone in the room but your partner. Also if you’re not together with this placement you could be used to people saying “you guys would look cute together!”. But 9/10 if u have this placement with a person you definitely felt some typa way about them at some point 😏

Virgo placements either talk up a storm and are very loud and vocal or they are so quiet and struggle with severe social anxiety no in between.

The most selfish childish person I ever met had a Sagittarius sun with a Leo moon. They will make everything about them ALL THE TIME.

I notice a lot of sag suns came from pretty well off families or rich families.

Taurus risings tend to be into dying their hair weird colors (like pastel pink, bright blue ect).

8th house synastry is only hot when the attraction is mutual.. but when it’s ONE SIDED it literally feels like you’re dying internally constantly. I fell in love with someone where my moon, mars, ascendant, & Jupiter was all in their 8th house… when I tell you that was the closest to hell I think I’ll get to in this life. The mind games & jealousy are so severe. You won’t even recognize yourself with this synastry, you’re more likely to do things you’d never thought you’d do and behave in ways you never thought you’d behave. It’s especially worse when you have an empty 8th house yourself, just so uncomfortable and you feel crazy 24/7. -10000/10 do not recommend 😭 make sure the attraction is mutual with this cuz it’s not for the faint of heart.

On the other hand 5th house synastry is soooo fun. This is the best house synastry imo (yes over the 7th house!). You find each-other genuinely super funny and enjoyable to be around. And the crush feels like you’re in a movie🥺🥹 it’s not overwhelming or too intense just very pleasant.

Having harsh synastry with Saturn/Venus (square, opposite) it can feel like you are meant for each-other but not in this lifetime:( they feel like the “person that got away”.

When a Scorpio Venus has a crush on you they will get jealous of anyone who tries to get close to you or has the potential to get closer to you than them. Even if it’s a family member they will treat the other person kinda poorly. I’ve seen this with the rising and mars as well but Venus is usually more severe. (This is usually if immature however).

Taurus mars never admit when they’re wrong.. even if what they say is so incorrect they will usually not listen to reason that goes against theirs. This is probably the most argumentative mars sign. Good luck getting these people to ever apologize to you.

Mars in Aries are usually naturally super toned, they really don’t have to work out much and they will be so buff istg (ESPECIALLY their arms!!!!) they gain muscle very easily.

Libra placements can be super obnoxious when they are single. They never stfu that they’re single and don’t have a partner 😩 I’ve seen this with the Venus and Mars the most. These are the types that are always sharing statuses on fb about “why am I single” “lonely for the holidays” ect. Like can somebody date them so I don’t gotta listen to this all day?😭

Don’t argue with someone with a mars in the 3rd house… you will not win.. they come with all the receipts 👀 this is lowkey a big lawyer placement. These people are not the one they will put you in check QUICKK. (Especially with an Aries, Scorpio or Taurus mars).

[fairyminnie444]

understanding your EGO so you don't let it hold you back anymore 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

The logical part of your brain that insists that your circumstances make manifestation impossible is simply your ego trying to protect you from disappointment or the unknown. Here’s how to deal with it and redirect your thoughts:

1. Understand the Function of the Ego

• The ego is not your enemy; it tries to keep you “safe” within what you already know.

However, it does not understand the unlimited power of imagination or the truth that you create your reality.

• Thank it for its concern, but remind yourself: “I am more than my circumstances. My beliefs shape my world.”

2. Reinforce the Idea That Circumstances Don’t Matter

• Circumstances are merely reflections of your inner state. They have no power of their own unless you give them power.

• Repeat to yourself:

• “My circumstances do not determine what I can manifest.”

• “The impossible to logic is inevitable to my power.”

• “I am the creator of my reality. My desire is already is mine.”

3. Use Logic to Your Advantage

• Even science supports the idea that our thoughts and beliefs influence our reality (neuroplasticity, law of attraction, quantum physics).

• Tell yourself, “If I can imagine it, I can create it. The physical world responds to my imagination.”

4. Treat Logic as a Passing Thought

• When logical thoughts appear, observe them as if you were watching clouds in the sky.

• Think, “Oh, there’s my logical mind trying to take over again. That’s fine, but I choose to believe in my vision.”

5. Practice Faith in Imagination

• Affirm, “My imagination is more real than 3D. 3D always follows my 4D.”

• Remember: if you persist in imagination, 3D will inevitably adjust to reflect that.

6. Challenge Limiting Beliefs

• Ask yourself, “Where does the idea that this is impossible come from?”

• Most limiting beliefs are learned over a lifetime and can be unlearned.

• Replace beliefs like “This is unrealistic” with “My imagination creates my reality.”

7. Embrace the Discomfort of the New

• It’s normal for your brain to resist the unfamiliar. See this as a sign that you’re growing.

• Tell yourself, “It’s uncomfortable right now because I’m becoming a bigger and better person.”

Logic tries to keep you in familiar patterns, but your imagination is more powerful. Whenever logic tells you it’s impossible, remind yourself that circumstances don’t matter, and that 3D is just a temporary reflection of what you believe. Persistence in your desired state is all that matters!

[stillnaomi]

most western socialists have a very low level of socialist consciousness. they've learned that capitalism is exploitative and unstable, and how a socialist society could function better, but the idea of socialism they have in their mind is one of advanced socialism: there's no state, no poverty, and no money. it doesn't include the necessary adjustments to being under constant siege from the capitalist world. it doesn't include the problems that any society must face as it develops its economy in the middle of the global capitalist system. it doesn't take into account the history of the countries involved but demands instead that they meet the socialist's pure vision. they take their ideal and compare it to real world socialist projects, which are still early in their development, and reject the project for not matching up to their vision. the construction of socialism is messy and happens in real countries, with complex histories and complex current challenges. demanding purity means rejecting the only real world struggles for socialism that actually exist

[aakeysmash]

prompt:

reader getting injured because she slipped in the shower, sukuna has to help her get to the hospital, where reader gets some pain meds making her kinda high. she confesses to him while being high

content: fluff, crack. reader is in the hospital and blood is named but there’s no gore. yuuji and sukuna are siblings. i love sukuna and i need him in my life so bad… someone PLS be my sukuna

“So, just to be sure: one margherita for me and one with sausage for you?” Asks you Yuuji while putting on his shoes.

“Yup,” you answer, popping the p. “Can I just have a quick shower while you’re gone?”

“Uhhh, sure, let me go ask Sukuna,” your friend tells you smiling and rushing up the stairs of his home.

You and Yuuji have been best friends since forever. You remember the first time you both cried your eyes out at the park in kindergarten because a lizard had just eaten the ladybug you had been watching for half an hour. Since that moment you’ve been attached at the hip, your homework filled afternoons in high school turning to pizza nights when both of your work schedules allowed you to now.

“Big bro said sure,” comes Yuuji’s voice from the end of the staircase.

“I did in fact not say that,” growls Sukuna from behind him. Sukuna is the same age as you and Yuuji, but he always seemed older. Sometimes wiser, but sure as hell more annoying than his brother. Hotter, too, but that’s a topic for another time.

“I didn’t ask you to join me, big boy,” you say sarcastically, fake smiling. He crosses his arms, leveling you with a bored look.

“Yuu, if you aren’t fast enough you’re not going to find her corpse when you get back,” he tells his brother, still staring you up and down. Yuuji sighs, tired, then opens the front door.

“Make sure to not kill each other. I have a shift after this, stop bickering. You two act like siblings more than I do with you, Sukuna,” he reprimands you both. You and his brother roll your eyes at the same time, then you push him out, closing the door in his face. You turn around and find yourself face to face with Sukuna's menacing grin.

“You have 5 minutes before I come knock at the bathroom door with a kitchen knife, doll.”

You’re scrubbing yourself clean with a random pine body wash you found in the shower when the playlist you put before entering the stall stops. You’re annoyed, because now you’re forced to listen to Sukuna’s ugly songs from the bathroom wall (that he’s blasting just to annoy you), so you try to reach your phone. You’re on your tippy toes, not wanting to get out completely, when you trip and fall since you didn’t wash the soap away from your body. You bump your head on the sink in front of the shower, hard, and you muffle a whine. You close your eyes as hard as you can and open the shower head with the room spinning inside your skull.

“Don’t open your eyes, don’t open your eyes or you’ll fall… fuck, it hurts so bad,” you tell yourself while you speed run the end of the shower and blindly put your shirt over your head. It’s not the first time you've bumped your head on something, you were a crazy kid, so you’ve learned to open your eyes only when you physically can’t function anymore or you'll start seeing stars immediately. You barely get to put your pants on when you notice your forehead feels wet, and you didn't even wash your hair. As you get out of the bathroom wobbling you touch your head. When you open your eyes, you see blood on your hand. The room spins. You barely have time to look up and watch Sukuna coming out of his bedroom frowning before seeing black dots in your vision.

You try opening your eyes, but they feel so heavy. Your body feels rather stiff. What's this smell?

"Oh, she's waking up," a female voice softly says from somewhere next to your right.

"Thank you, miss, I got it from here," a rough voice responds.

"Make sure she drinks a lot, and keep a couple of painkillers near you. The scans show she doesn't have any internal damage, but she hit her head pretty hard. She's going to have a big bruise for a couple of days," the female voice continues. You hear the man making a sound of affirmation.

There’s a brief pause. "Your wife is very lucky. It's not every day that a man takes a woman up four flights of stairs by simple arm strength," the woman concludes sweetly, getting out of the room after he responds with a grunt and closing the door behind her.

"Your ass is lucky I lied or they wouldn’t have let me in, dumbass. Open your eyes, I know you're awake," the voice you now recognise as Sukuna says, getting closer. You try opening your eyes, managing to focus your gaze on him. Everything feels so fluffy, apart from your throat. You cough, and you think you see him rolling his eyes before getting you a glass of water and sitting beside you on a chair. You gulp it down, still feeling fuzzy, then you blink a couple of times.

You gape at him. He's cute. “You look funny,” you say, poking his cheek. He’s so squishy. Like a little mochi. A little mochi filled with strawberries. Strawberries and cream. He slaps your finger away, and you put on a hurt expression. He huffs.

“Why am I here?” You ask. The more you look at him, the more heads he seems to have.

“You fell in the bathroom,” he says, straightening up from the chair and covering your right leg with the duvet the hospital gave you. You raise an eyebrow at his gesture, and he just rolls his eyes again. “Don’t want you to also catch a cold. Yuuji would kill my ass.” You just hum.

“I caught ya when you already fainted. Yuuji came back home and panicked, but he couldn’t back out from work, so I was stuck with your ass. Took ya here but the elevator broke down. And I ate your pizza, by the way. All this is gonna cost ya 200 dollars, cash,” he lists, sprawling back onto his chair, deadpan.

Silence engulfs the both of you, and you don’t know what to say. You heard what the nurse said and you are searching for a way to bring it up, but the words in your mind are all scrambled. It’s probably the morphine that you realise they gave you, IV still attached to your left arm. You open your mouth to say something along the lines of “I’d like to thank your gym membership for this,” but instead the words that leave your mouth are-

“I’d like you to be my husband.”

His eyes snap to your widening ones. “Wait that wasn’t what-“

“Huh?” He just replies, dumbfounded. You panic, waving your hands in the air between you two.

“No, what I meant was- like- thank you for getting me up here- can you stop looking at me with your weird 16 eyes?- not that you aren’t attractive! You’re super hot! But that’s not- oh god,” you whimper, rubbing your face, noticing how you’re just making the situation worse. You prepare yourself for his snarky comeback, closing your eyes, but everything is silent.

Suddenly, you hear him snort. You crack your eyes open, touching the big cotton gauze they put on your forehead. You must be hearing things. It’s definitely the morphine, there’s no way Sukuna is actually laughing.

“Yes, I’m laughing, doll,” he says, chuckling. You widen your eyes.

“I said that out loud, didn’t I?” You cringe.

“Yeah, you kinda did,” he responds, smirking. You groan.

“Take me out to dinner first, damn,” he yawns. You jut your bottom lip out, frowning and giving him your middle finger. Then you register his words.

“You’d come? I mean, if I asked you out.”

“Well, if you’re paying,” he responds, shrugging. That’s still a yes, isn’t it?

He ruffles up his pink hair, black t-shirt straining across his bicep. You can’t contain the urge to poke the muscle.

“Stop touching me like I’m made of play dough, doll,” he sighs, slightly less annoyed than 5 minutes ago.

“Would you let me play with you if you were made of play dough?” you ask, words a little slurred, still poking his arm, and he flexes it. “Don’t show off,” you mumble.

“You’re even weirder when you’re drugged,” he grins. He kinda looks scary, though. If you didn’t know him, you’d piss yourself by looking at his sharp teeth.

“But would you or would you not?” You whine, dragging out the last word, letting your hand fall next to you. He misses the warmth of your hand, so instead, he just puts his on your thigh. To be warm, of course. The room is so cold. Yeah. Definitely because of the missing heat.

“Yeah doll, I would.”

[astrologydray]

Mercury Sign Intelligence Ranking (From Sharpest to Softest Thinkers)🧠✨

Note: Everyone has strengths in different kinds of intelligence (emotional, analytical, spatial, linguistic, etc.). Mercury in Pisces may write the most moving poetry. Mercury in Capricorn might write the best business plan.

1. Mercury in Gemini

Keyword: Mental Gymnastics

This is Mercury’s domicile, meaning it functions at full strength here. Sharp, witty, fast-talking, and excellent at multitasking. Absorbs trivia like a sponge. Thinks in hyperlinks.

2. Mercury in Virgo

Keyword: Precision

Also in domicile and exaltation. Analytical, detail-oriented, and mentally organized. Masters systems, edits flawlessly, and thrives on logic. Their brain is a high-speed filing cabinet.

3. Mercury in Aquarius

Keyword: Genius-Level Pattern Seeker

Independent thinker, visionary mind. Thinks ten steps ahead and outside the box. Often “ahead of their time” — the rebels and inventors of thought.

4. Mercury in Scorpio

Keyword: Psychological Sleuth

Obsessed with depth. Highly intuitive and investigative. Can detect lies, read minds, and process information beneath the surface. Strategic thinker with razor focus.

5. Mercury in Capricorn

Keyword: Strategic Planner

Thinks long-term. Practical, grounded, and goal-oriented. Absorbs knowledge through structure and discipline. Excellent at putting ideas into action.

6. Mercury in Libra

Keyword: Diplomatic Logic

Highly intelligent socially and verbally. They weigh perspectives and speak with poise. Great debaters, lawyers, and artists of articulation.

7. Mercury in Sagittarius

Keyword: Big Picture Thinker

Philosophical, adventurous, and open-minded. Not always detail-oriented, but sees overarching meaning and vision. Brilliant storytellers and educators.

8. Mercury in Aries

Keyword: Quick and Blunt

Snappy thinkers. Acts on impulse and trusts instinct. While not always reflective, they’re sharp, decisive, and quick-witted in arguments.

9. Mercury in Leo

Keyword: Creative Communicator

Thinks with flair and heart. Loves storytelling and spotlight communication. Not the most logical, but brilliant at inspiring and performing.

10. Mercury in Taurus

Keyword: Slow and Steady

Learns at their own pace. Strong memory and focused attention, but slower to process new ideas. Excellent at mastering one subject deeply.

11. Mercury in Cancer

Keyword: Emotional Intelligence

Learns through emotion and memory. Not always linear, but intuitive and empathetic thinkers. More subjective, but deeply wise in a nurturing way.

12. Mercury in Pisces

Keyword: Dream Logic

Highly creative, imaginative, and intuitive — but struggles with linear or rational processes. Their intelligence is spiritual, artistic, and symbolic rather than logical.

[rainydetectiveglitter]

Astro Notes

🌞 Sun in the 6H — The Sun in the house of labor, illness, and service directs your vitality toward structure and hard work. You are driven to find purpose and recognition in environments of routine and functionality. This position speaks of leadership through service, but there is also a call to rise above being underappreciated or overworked. Your life path is defined by crafting stability in often overlooked spaces.

🌙 Moon in the 8H — The Moon here ties your emotional life to themes of shared resources, death, and deep transformation. Your instincts are heightened when dealing with the unseen or emotional undercurrents of others. You might feel a constant tension between security and uncertainty, but this grants you a unique ability to rebuild from loss. Subtle emotional mastery develops as you navigate hidden realms of intimacy and power.

🗣 Mercury in the 5H — Mercury shines in this house of pleasure and creativity, giving you a lively mind for joyful expression. Artistic, romantic, or recreational endeavors thrive under your ability to weave intellect into fun. You communicate with wit and charm, making you skilled at teaching or storytelling. Romantic pursuits may unfold around shared humor or stimulating conversations.

💖 Venus in the 6H — Venus in the house of duty brings grace and charm to your daily habits. You value harmony in work and practical environments, often excelling in professions related to wellness, aesthetics, or partnerships. This placement makes it easy to form positive collaborations, but you might need to guard against becoming overly attached to routines or acts of service as your only source of pleasure.

🔥 Mars in the 6H — Mars here energizes and agitates themes of labor and routine. Hardworking and disciplined, you tackle challenges with focus but may face conflicts in work or health-related areas. This placement thrives in environments demanding precision and endurance but can push too far into stress or burnout. Success comes through learning to channel your drive without depleting your energy.

💫 Jupiter in the 4H — Your foundation is imbued with abundance and expansion. A fortunate home life or strong cultural ties may support your growth. This placement often points to a joyful upbringing or a prosperous inheritance, whether literal or symbolic. You feel most fulfilled when nurturing your roots and creating a sanctuary for yourself or others.

⏳ Saturn in the 8H — Saturn brings gravity to matters of shared wealth and the mysteries of life. You face karmic lessons in accepting the limits of control in financial or transformative circumstances. Through steady diligence, you develop mastery in managing the boundaries of resources and intimacy. Inheritance or debts, both literal and metaphorical, may present challenges that ultimately forge resilience.

⚡ Uranus in the 7H — Relationships are avenues of change and awakening. Your partnerships often involve unconventional dynamics or sudden turns, pushing you to redefine connection and freedom. You may be drawn to partners who challenge societal norms, and you inspire those around you by modeling individuality within commitment.

🌊 Neptune in the 7H — A dreamy quality surrounds your unions, blending love with ideals and sometimes illusions. This placement highlights spiritual and creative partnerships, but discernment is key to avoiding disillusionment. True fulfillment arises when connections allow for shared higher vision without losing clarity or authenticity.

🗝 Pluto in the 5H — Creative and romantic expressions carry depth and intensity. You experience transformation through your pursuit of joy, often finding that the most meaningful moments come after profound change or loss. Whether through art, children, or love, you approach these areas with a powerful magnetism that leaves lasting impacts.

🦋 Chiron in the 3H — Early struggles with communication or learning fuel your eventual mastery in these areas. You might serve as a guide to others, offering wisdom on finding one's voice or bridging divides. Vulnerability becomes a strength, making your insights resonate deeply.

🌿 Ceres in the 10H — Your nurturing gifts influence your public reputation or career. People see you as a caretaker or a provider, often turning to you for support in times of need. Professional fulfillment lies in roles that allow you to nourish others or grow something meaningful.

🛡 Pallas in the 8H — Your strategies shine in the realm of transformation and shared power. You excel at navigating complex emotional or financial terrains with clarity and ingenuity. This placement suggests a gift for guiding yourself and others through shadow work or difficult but necessary changes.

💍 Juno in the 4H — Deep commitment to home and family defines your partnerships. Your closest bonds are shaped by shared roots or a mutual goal of creating emotional security. Marriage or long-term unions may play out with themes of loyalty tied to domestic life.

🔥 Vesta in the 9H — Your dedication to truth and exploration defines your life’s sacred purpose. Whether through higher learning, spiritual journeys, or philosophical pursuits, you treat these endeavors with reverence. You are fueled by a desire to seek and embody wisdom.

🌀 Node in the 5H — Your destiny pulls you toward embracing joy, passion, and creation. Past tendencies to focus on group dynamics or intellectual detachment are now transformed through personal, heartfelt expression. Growth comes through tapping into your ability to inspire through love and art.

🐍 Lilith in the 10H — Lilith's placement here marks your public image with raw, defiant energy. Others may view your career or reputation as unorthodox, even rebellious, and you might find yourself challenging the expectations society places on you. This is a powerful placement for claiming authenticity, but it may come at the price of being misunderstood. Through embracing your unique vision, you become a force others cannot ignore.

🍀 Fortune in the 11H — Prosperity flows through your connections with groups and shared ideals. Alliances and friendships often lead to unforeseen blessings, with luck arising when you collaborate on collective endeavors. Engaging with like-minded communities opens doors to fulfillment and opportunity.

[cimmanonrowl]

Eat Your Young pt.1

Part Two | Masterlist

It was a blessing when you were offered a job to look after a kid named Jack. He is a good one– smart, funny, a little cheeky but obeys you nonetheless. His father was all the same— Mr. Hotchner. He pays really well and on time, and made sure that after his arrival from Pakistan, you finally learn to accept your hidden desires.

Pairing: aaron hotchner x nanny!reader

Theme: smut heaven

Contents: age gap, oral fixation, oral (f) receiving, cum play, overstimulation, squirting, creampie, unprotected, rough sex, dom!aaron, daddy kink, powerplay: boss/employee dynamic, pussy-eater bearded aaron.

You were supposed to find Jack in ten minutes. 

Ten minutes maximum, you told yourself. That is the only reason why you confidently agreed to play hide and seek with that hyperactive, sugar-high of a child. Just ten minutes.

Now you couldn’t breathe in panic.

“Jack!” your trembling voice echoed down the hallway as you peered through rooms you had ransacked just three minutes ago. “Jack, please. Where are you, honey?”

Nothing.

The heavy sound of your frantic steps pierced the silence as you bolted downstairs, feeling even more lightheaded as the gnawing anxiety grew harshly and clawed at your insides. The silence reverberating through every corner of the house felt extremely taunting. Yet, with the rush of worry you feel for the kid, you couldn’t bring yourself to think of anything else.

Your chest hurts, your mind racing with every horrid scenario, each thud echoing in your ears as you rush to the kitchen. Shortly after you were hired and joined their little family, Jessica told you everything she felt you needed to be aware of. And you knew what Jack had to go through as a kid. He and his father had gone through terrible things you weren’t even sure it was possible to handle.

Warm tears now flooded your eyes as you desperately scanned every nook and cranny— he was not under the table, not inside the empty kitchen cabinet, nor behind the dining room curtains.

“Jack Hotchner!” you tried keeping the tremor out of your voice, making yourself sound assertive and annoyed as an attempt to scare him, yet your panic still found a way to lace at each word. “This isn’t funny anymore, Jack! I’m telling your dad!” 

You darted to the living room, ripping aside the couch cushions and peeking behind and under every piece of furniture. Now your breath comes in shallow gasps. With each movement, the very memory of his mischievous giggle haunted you, ringing inside your brain.

When you realized the kid wasn’t there, you sprinted again upstairs, taking two steps at a time. Your mind continuously raced with possibilities. Did he sneak out? Is he hiding in the attic? The basement? Jesus Christ, did you even lock the front door?

You throw open the closet in the hallway, pushing aside winter coats and a pile of boxes. “Jack! I’m serious! Come out!” 

Desperation edged even closer.

The bathroom door swung open with a creak as you pushed through the room. But to your horror, it was all empty, too.

You staggered back to his bedroom with quick steps. Your very last hope. You flung open the toy chest, rummaging through the chaos of plastic dinosaurs, action figures, and Lego blocks. Still nothing. It didn’t even cross your mind that a kid as old as Jack wouldn’t fit in a small wooden toy box; your mind was too frantic to think logically.

“Jack! Where are you?” you dropped to your knees, peering under his bed, your vision blurring with unshed tears. “Please, Jack, come out!” 

You stood by the window and started biting on your nails— a habit you developed when you’re too anxious to function. You clutched your phone tightly as you hugged yourself, fingers trembling, contemplating to finally dial for help. From the window you observed that the garden looked empty as always, the back shed had always been locked, and you couldn’t see anyone behind the bushes— Jack was nowhere to be found. 

The dread is almost paralyzing, a heavy weight pressing firmly on your chest.

And just as you made up your mind to go outside and check properly, your phone vibrated on your hand. Blood drained on your face as you glanced at the screen and read the familiar name on the caller’s I.D.

Mr. Hotchner.

Jack’s father. Your employer— who also happens to be a big shot FBI agent. If he learned that you lost his son in a hide-and-seek game, no matter how warmhearted, accommodating, and considerate that man is of your needs and well-being, you get this nagging feeling that you might end up floating on a river somewhere with no leads of any kind or prime suspect to consider.

You rubbed your eyes as you accepted the call, your doom at the same time. “H-hello?”

“Hey,” Aaron’s voice crackles through the line, distant yet filled with warmth. “Just wanted to check in. How’s Jack doing?”

Your throat tightened as you listened. 

“Mr. Hotchner…”

“Yes?”

“Mr. Hotchner…” your fingers gripped the phone tightly as you let out a strangled sob. “I... I can’t find Jack. We– we were playing hide and seek, and now he’s gone. I’ve looked everywhere,” warm tears flowed down your cheeks as you continued, your voice trembling. “I’m sorry. I’ve been l-looking… I swear. I’m really sorry.”

There’s a moment of silence on the other end, and you can almost hear Aaron’s heartbeat sync with your frantic pulse. You braced for the incoming screams, expecting him to ridicule your incompetence. After all, you’ve always thought of Mr. Hotchner as someone who never hesitates to pinpoint someone’s inefficiency. Maybe today you’ll have enough luck to prove your theory.

But in a calm voice, Aaron Hotchner said softly instead, “Alright, I need you to stay calm for me, sweetheart. Are you sure you checked everywhere?”

“Y-yes, sir,” you sniffed quietly in relief, rubbing your nose and the tears streaming down your face. “Everywhere. The cabinets, the cupboards, h-his toy box…”

A brief silence fell with that, and you bit your lip in embarrassment. “His toy box? You don’t suppose he’s gonna fit in there, do you?” Aaron sounded like he was trying not to laugh. What a silly, little girl.

“T-that’s not the point, sir!”

“Did you check the front door? Is the back door locked?”

“Yes. I always make sure to lock it.”

“Have you checked my office then?”

“N-no…” you drawled in confusion, frowning as you went back to biting the edge of your nail. “Should I?”

What kind of question is that? Why would you even go there? That’s the only room in his house that you don’t welcome yourself. Mr. Hotchner may have never told you so but you’re fully aware of all the confidential documents he’s storing inside. You can’t afford to be thrown in jail for obstructing a case because you have mistaken a case file as trash and thrown it out.

“It’s worth a look. Jack likes playing in there when I’m working,” Aaron’s tone suddenly shifted, his voice turning quiet as he started with his order. “There’s a wooden crate beside my desk, check that first.”

You hesitated. “But, I don—”

“Just check, sweetheart, please,” Aaron interrupted, gently but firmly as always. “I trust you.”

The sincerity in his words cut through your anxiety. Aaron trusts you. So you took a deep breath and nodded to yourself before stepping out of his son’s room.

“Jack, you really scared her. You know you’re supposed to come out when you’re called, right?” Aaron’s firm voice filled the kitchen moments later.

Jack glanced at you as if feigning confusion. As you know him well, he was obviously thrilled with the chaos he caused. You sat beside him at the kitchen table, eyeing the little devil while you prepare your own food, listening to his father’s reprimand. Jack’s legs swung back and forth under the table, excitedly munching on a sandwich wrap you made for his lunch.

“I was just hiding, Dad. It’s hide and seek, that’s what I’m supposed to do.” Jack’s small brows furrowed like his father’s as he looked down at his plate.

“Yes, I know, buddy,” A soft sigh rang audible through the line. “But it’s just a game, you can’t hide so well that no one can find you. It’s important to keep everyone safe, especially when I’m not there.”

Jack’s lower lip jutted out even further. “But that’s the point of the game, Dad. Players need to hide well.”

“Yes, buddy, but what I’m saying is…” Aaron sighed again, struggling to weave a perfect explanation for his son. “Everything fun should be done in moderation. You scared her, and me, because we thought something bad happened to you.”

“I’m sorry, Dad.”

“Thank you, buddy, but I don’t think I’m the one you should be apologizing to. You made her worry.”

“I...” Jack stopped chewing, looking at you with wide, innocent eyes. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to win.”

The scolding seemed to have hit its mark, and you reached over, ruffling the little guy’s hair. “It’s okay, honey. Just don’t hide so well next time, alright?”

Jack stared at you and nodded solemnly, but then his pout deepened. “Dad grew his beard. I don’t like it.”

You suppressed a smile, glancing at the phone where you could see Aaron’s face on the screen. Despite the grainy connection, you can see the dark shadow of a beard on his jawline. 

Aaron chuckled at what he heard, the sound of his deep voice humorous. “I had to, buddy. It’s hard to shave here every day.”

Jack shrugged as he took a big bite of his food. “You look like a bear.”

“What?!” Aaron said incredulously.

“You should shave, Dad. We’re gonna look like Masha and the Bear when you come home.”

You bit your lip to hold back a laugh, shaking your head.

Only if you were asked, you’d say how the full beard really absolutely suited Aaron. Now he looked rugged— a stark contrast to his usually neat and well-kept appearance. Regardless, he seemed to look even more handsome and manly. And God, he looks so fucking hot he should be put behind the bar.

But well, it’s a good thing no one bothered asking your opinion; how are you supposed to answer in front of a kid, anyway?  

You’ve always admired this man, that’s for sure. He and his neatly ironed suits, clean-cut hair, and authoritative nature had always been an incredible sight to look at— but this new look?

This.

This makes you think of lewd things in broad daylight.

“Well, buddy your best friend doesn’t seem to mind it,” Aaron caught your eye through the screen, a small smile playing on his lips. 

Crimson red dusted on your cheeks with the teasing, but you managed to smile back. “Uhuh, it’s not so bad, Jack. Maybe you’ll get used to it.”

Jack scrunched his nose but didn’t argue any further. Instead, he picked up his sandwich again and took a big bite. You shook your head in amusement, holding Aaron’s gaze on the screen briefly before you had to look away because...

That damn fucking beard.

“Alright, I also have to grab some dinner now,” Aaron said after a few beats of silence. “Jack, be good for her, okay? She might run away if you continue scaring her. We don’t want that, do we?”

Jack nodded, still chewing. “Okay, Dad. No more.”

“I love you, buddy.”

“I love you, too, Dad.”

“And you,” Aaron’s voice softened even more as he addressed you, a soft crinkle present in his eyes. “Thank you. For everything.”

You could only nod, and smile, and look away as your heart pounded against your chest. “No worries. Keep safe, Mr. Hotchner.”

He gave you one last look, his eyes filled with warmth and something you couldn’t decipher, before the call disconnected. With a sigh, you looked back at Jack, who was already reaching for a second sandwich wrap, mumbling about how his father would soon end up like Hagrid.

The soft click echoed in the quiet house as you closed the door behind you. You slipped off your high heels, groaning and wincing in pain, before dropping your keys into the bowl on the console table. The house feels emptier than usual, with Jack spending the night at his Aunt Jessica’s. It was a setup that she and Aaron agreed on before; to let Jack stay overnight every Friday and go home by the afternoon the next day.

As you make your way down the hallway, it doesn’t escape your notice that the kitchen lights are open. You weren’t expecting anyone to be home, not at this late hour anyway, and the sight stopped you in your tracks. Burglar was your first thought.

So naturally, you took several tentative steps closer, peeking around the corner.

Surprise flickered across Aaron’s features as he noticed you, quickly masking it with a strained smile. He was standing by the kitchen island, a half-finished bottle of brandy open.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice rougher than how you remembered months ago, “I didn’t know you’d be back so soon.”

“I should say the same to you.”

You had no idea he’s coming home today. His travel-worn face was illuminated by the warm kitchen light; a glass of amber liquid swirls in the rock glass in his hand. While his eyes were shadowed with something unreadable, never leaving yours. 

You manage a small smile in return, though it feels heavy. “But yeah, the date ended earlier than expected.”

Not just the date but your entire evening hadn’t gone as planned, and you can still feel the weight of disappointment tugging at your shoulders.

Aaron nodded but didn’t say anything about it.

Silence settled between the two of you. His eyes flickered to the drink in his hand, while he took a slow sip, as if buying time. You didn’t dare glance away as you stepped further into the kitchen, leaning against the counter in front of him.

“I didn’t know you’d be home today. How was your trip?” you asked, genuinely curious but also eager to fill the void.

He shrugged, setting the glass down with a soft clink. “Busy. Tiring. The usual.” His gaze returned to you, lingering a moment too long. “You okay?”

The concern in his voice was unmistakable. You nodded, but the gesture also felt hollow. “Yeah, just... you know, one of those nights.”

Aaron’s jaw tightened slightly, and he looked away, staring into his glass. “Want to talk about it?”

You hesitated, not sure if you’re ready to unpack the disappointment just yet, and also considering the fact that he must be tired from his flight. But there’s something in Aaron’s presence that you always found comforting, you just had to go on.

“Maybe later,” you said softly, wandering your eyes around until it landed on the wine shelf. “Can I join you?”

He nodded without hesitation, watching you in silence as you grab a bottle of wine from the rack. Aaron’s eyes met yours again as you settled back, and for a moment, something flickered in their depths— something that makes your heart skip a beat.

Aaron’s eyes were focused on you as you set the bottle on the counter and reach for the corkscrew. The maroon silk of your dress catches the light; it was a simple one, nothing too flashy nor revealing. Just enough to accentuate your figure and compliment your skin well. You don’t understand why heat licked your neck as you became aware of Aaron’s eyes lingering on you.

With a soft pop, the cork comes free, and you pour yourself a generous amount. You took your own seat on the barstool. And with your slow movements, the maroon dress clings to your form, highlighting your curves in a way that makes Aaron’s breath catch.

He tried to look away, but his apprehensive eyes kept returning to you.

“There’s a practice game this Sunday. Jack will be happy to know you’ll be watching,” you cleared your throat, eyes focused on the alcohol swirling around the clear glass.

Aaron took a slow sip of his drink, trying to collect his thoughts, but his gaze kept drifting back to you. The dress, with its silky sheen and soft drape, made you look not just elegant but breathtakingly sexy- a fact that Aaron is finding increasingly hard to ignore.

“Yeah, I’m planning to surprise him tomorrow. Maybe we can pick him up early from Jess? Then we can grab a lunch outside.”

You gave him a smile. “Sure, sounds nice.”

As you settled deeper into the conversation, your attention narrowed down to Aaron. He’s leaning against the marble counter, the soft kitchen light casting a warm glow on him. His beard was slightly thicker than you remember, giving him an almost roguish look that you couldn’t help but find incredibly attractive. And hot.

He’s so hot.

He was clad in one of his work shirts, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing strong forearms. The shirt fits him well, emphasizing his broad shoulders and the hint of muscle underneath. Even the veins running through the surface of his arm were visible. 

The sight makes your heart flutter, and you found yourself admiring the way he looked tonight, with a brandy glass cradled in his big, calloused hand. You wonder how it would feel to have those strong hands grip you tightly, his fingers playing with your pussy, his lips on your neck.

“So,” Aaron’s voice snapped you out of your reverie, “how was the date?”

You took a sip of your drink, the question making your chest tighten again, but you answered lightly. “It was... okay, I guess? Not what I anticipated, though.”

His eyes are on your face, but they keep flickering to your dress, tracing the line of your collarbone, the soft curve of your shoulder. “What happened?”

“He was nice and all… but I don’t know…” Aaron nodded as you struggled recalling the events of evening, and you can tell he wants more details. “It’s just awkward, as always.”

“Did you go anywhere special?”

“We went to that new Italian place downtown. Dave said the food was great so I wanted to try…” you swirl the wine in your glass, watching the dark liquid catch the light. The movement makes the dress shimmer, and Aaron’s gaze follows the motion, almost mesmerized. “I just thought it’d be better, you know? It’s our third date, anyway.”

Aaron’s gaze softened, and he took a sip of his drink. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks. Well, that’s what happens, I guess,” You smiled, feeling a bit more at ease.

“Yeah,” his eyes traveled from your eyes to your lips, then back to your eyes. “But it doesn’t make it any easier.”

You both fall into a comfortable silence, the tension from earlier slowly dissipating. Aaron’s eyes lingered on you before finally, he spoke again, his tone light but his curiosity evident. 

“Did he at least appreciate the dress? You look... incredible tonight.”

A blush warmed your cheeks, making you giggle to yourself. “He did compliment it, but I don’t think he noticed much beyond that.��

“He’s an idiot then,” Aaron said quickly, the words slipping out before he could stop them. Then he looked down, a hint of embarrassment coloring his features. “I mean, it’s a beautiful dress, and it suits you really well.”

The compliment made your smile grow wider.

“You’re looking pretty good yourself,” your cheeks heat up as quickly as you realize what you’ve just said, but you don’t think you have to take it back. “Pakistan’s that rough?”

“You could say that,” Aaron’s eyes flickered with surprise and a touch of pleasure. He straightened slightly, a small, almost bashful yet equally beautiful smile playing on his lips. “I’m pretty sure Jack will volunteer to shave this beard off.”

“But it suits you…” you murmured mostly to yourself, your eyes tracing the line of his jaw and the way the beard added a certain depth to his features. “He’s just teasing you.”

Aaron chuckled, running a hand through his hair, a gesture that draws your attention to the subtle flex of his muscle. “Yeah? I wasn’t sure if it was too much.”

“No, it’s perfect,” you replied, your voice softening. “Makes you look... distinguished.”

He took a slow sip of his brandy, his eyes never leaving yours. The intensity of his gaze makes your pulse quicken, and you find yourself caught in the moment, drowning in his presence and the wetness slowly pooling in between your thighs.

“So you like it?”

Oh, you love it. “Yes.”

Aaron stepped a little closer, settling beside you as you glanced up at him from your seat. The scent of his perfume, mixed with the subtle hint of brandy, filled your senses. His eyes flickered down to your lips, then back up to your eyes.

“Tell me about your date,” he said, his tone teasing, but there was an edge of something more in his eyes.

“There’s not much to tell,” you said with a laugh, your voice catching slightly. “It was just... dull and boring.”

“Dull? How so?”

“Just…” you bit your lip lightly, shaking your head as you smiled up at him. “You know.”

“I can’t say I know, doll. Use your words.”

Your heart raced but you didn’t look away. Instead, you stared back at him with the same intensity, blinking through your eyelashes almost innocently. “He… he doesn’t make me feel like you do.”

A beat.

Your heart drummed wildly against your ears.

And Aaron’s eyes darkened with the invitation.

“And how do I make you feel, angel?” he whispered softly.

“Like you actually want me.”

“Which I fucking do,” he leaned in, his breath slowly mingling with yours. “More than you know.”

Aaron’s hand moved to your waist, his touch light but possessive. Your heart pounded wildly as you stared into his eyes.

“Show me then,” you whispered back, your voice trembling with anticipation.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” you breathed, your lips just a hair’s breadth away from his.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tantalizingly slow and deliberately teasing way.

“Aaron...” you whined, your voice heavy with need. “Please...”

“What do you want?”

“I don’t k-know…”

His grip tightened on your hips, his voice rough and demanding. “I think you’re lying, pretty girl.”

“Aaron...”

“I said,” he asked again, gruffly this time. “What do you want?”

“Want your m-mouth on me, Aaron, please...”

A quick swipe of his tongue wetted his lower lip, and a satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Good girl.”

His hand tightened on your waist, drawing you even closer. And all you knew from that second is the feeling of his hot breath against your skin.

“Aaron-” a low growl rumbled from his chest as your fingers tangled through his hair, pushing him even closer to your dripping cunt. “Tha- God, that feels good…”

Aaron hummed lightly, running the calloused pad of his palm on the soft surface of your thighs, feeling the bumps rising on your skin along with your pleasure. He darted his eyes to your face with his mouth still on your cunt, his lips nibbling your clit, watching you breathe heavily while containing the whine caught right in your throat.

When you propped onto your elbow and met his gaze, you could barely register the drunk look on his eyes.

“I’m c-close…” you whispered, pleadingly so. “Aaron… please…”

You didn’t have to say anything else. The contrast between the softness of his lips and the coarseness of his beard creates a heady, intoxicating burn. The rough graze of his beard against your inner thigh sent shivers down your spine, making you arch your back, forcing yourself closer to his mouth, to his touch; even closer to his heat.

You have never been treated this way– never had a partner who takes pleasure in pleasuring you. The warmth of Aaron’s breath fanned through your clit as he licked and prod his tongue on your entrance, feeling the burning scrape of his stubble with every movement. It’s both gentle and painful, enough to make your skin tingle and your heart race; chasing the heightening pleasure and your incoming orgasm.

“So good, doll…” he whispered roughly, encouragingly, his attention focused only at you. “Fuck, it’s so hot.”

He leaned away only for a moment, straightening his back as he quickly unbuttoned his shirt. In the blink of an eye, the sight of his muscular chest and soft stomach salivated you. You’ve known he’s hairy, but now that you saw the dark trail of hair on his abdomen down to his…

Aaron looked smug.

“Dirty girl, like what you’re seeing?”

You hummed hoarsely. “Want you, please. D-daddy?”

Aaron groaned at your words. And you noticed how his palm flew to the obvious bulge on his pants, squeezing his aching cock as if your words hurt him. Or pleased him, you don’t know. All you registered was the faint satisfaction in his smile and the glint of hunger in his piercing eyes.

He ran his palm on your thighs lovingly. “Cum on Daddy’s mouth first. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

Although he posed that as a question, you knew it was an order. And who are you to defy him when he generously licked through your folds and sucked on your clit like a starved man? He’s not devouring you like relinquishing his final meal; instead, like you are the very first meal he ever tasted and cannot get enough of. He eats you like someone will take you away from him. But even if they do, he wants to make sure it’s his mouth and big cock you’ll crawl back to.

The world seemed so far away as you let yourself drown in the pleasure, all while Aaron occasionally fucks his tongue in and out of your needy cunt.

“Close, angel?” he asked before spitting on your pussy and swirling his tongue on your clit. “You taste like heaven, baby.”

You nodded dumbly.

“You’ve no idea how many nights I fucked my fist to this thought.”

Your release inched closer, roused by his deep groans and heavy breathing. You were not even past the vulgar image of him spitting on your cunt when you felt one of his fingers gently swiping through your wetness, his touch light as a ghost, and you shuddered as you realized what will come next.

You gasped and moaned, and grabbed a fistful of his hair on both of your hands. “Need you n-now, please… enough…”

“Just one, angel. Just give me one on my tongue,” he demanded, his eyes dark with need. “You can do that for Daddy, right baby? I’ll fuck you good later, I promise.”

You clenched around his finger as he slowly slid into you, then out, slowly gaining rhythm and speed that reflected your racing heart. He thrust in and out, and in and out, until he decided you could take another finger, then another one. You’ve never felt so full, but good God if you say you didn’t fantasize about getting fingerfucked by your boss, you’d be sent to hell for lying.

He nibbled. He sucked. He licked. His fingers never once stopped assaulting your wet, squelching cunt. With every drag of his fingers and swipe of his tongue, you could hear a deep growl rumbling through his chest. And his eyes watched you, taking in the way you writhe in pleasure, the way your thighs tremble, and how your eyes welled in tears.

“Please… p-please…” you whimpered pathetically, your fingers tightening on his hair. “C-close, ‘m so close… daddy…”

“Cum for me, sweetheart. Come on, be a good girl.”

“D-daddy!” you screamed loudly when his teeth grazed your now sensitive clit.

“Fucking cum for me. Make me proud, angel.”

Your eyes rolled at the back of your head as your orgasm ripped through you. His words grew distant as it happened, showering you still with lewd praises: how good you taste, how warm and tight your cunt would be, and how he expects you to take his big cock.

“S-stop… A-” you trashed away from his grip. “Too m-much. D-daddy, no! Stop! S-stop! Too much!”

His fingers continued abusing the sensitive nerves deep inside you, groaning loudly as your walls tightened around him. “A little more, sweet girl. One more for Daddy…”

“N-no–” Tears slid down your cheeks in overstimulation, feeling the rough drag of his fingers inside your tight cunt and his lips on your clit. “Oh, g-god! I’m close again… D-daddy! Don’t s-stop, p-please!”

“Good girl, angel. Look at you... that’s it, baby.”

He trailed wet kisses along your skin as he moved upward, kneading your tits, lingering a bit longer on your hardened nipples. You haven’t gone down from your last orgasm when you already felt the tip of his cock prodding at your pulsating cunt.

You whimpered weakly, not fully aware of your surrounding anymore.

“Hey, hey…” you heard Aaron whisper, his voice soft and gentle, caressing your face lovingly as he observed your expression. “Good? Do you want to stop, sweetheart?”

You shook your head. “I will kill you if you stop.”

“Ah,” he let out a hoarse chuckle. “Yes, Ma’am.”

His pace was slow at first, achingly so and deliberate. But it didn’t last long. From laying on your back on the cold, marble kitchen counter, you found yourself bent over on the kitchen table, with Aaron’s girthy cock ramming in and out of your cunt. And all you could do was take it, moaning loudly to Aaron’s satisfaction.

“Fucking hell. Should’ve fucked this pussy long before–” he rambled deeply from behind, pistoling his hips at a brutal pace. “You like this, huh? You like Daddy fucking your tight pussy?”

You bit your thumb as your legs trembled, but you didn’t answer.

And that’s when you felt it.

A harsh slap on your ass.

“Answer me, you fucking slut,” he drawled in between heavy breaths. “Did I fuck you dumb, huh?”

“Y-yes–” you struggled to say, trying to keep your legs steady amidst the intense waves of pleasure. “G-good… so much…”

Aaron barked an amused laugh. “Fuck. You sound so cockdrunk.”

With each thrust, you felt the familiar coil tightening on your stomach. Your words were muffled as you tried to warn him, and all that came out of your lips was a high-pitched whimper. 

Aaron’s grip on your hips hardened. “I’m c-close. Where should I cum, angel? Inside? Should I cum inside?”

“C-close…” you echoed mindlessly, not understanding a word he said.

“Do you want me to fuck a baby inside you?”

“Yes… y-yes… inside, Daddy, please....”

Tears streamed down your cheeks when you felt Aaron’s hot cum spill inside you, his thick cock throbbing. You trembled against him as you reached your own climax, your lips drawn to a silent scream as he expertly rubbed your clit through your orgasm.

“One more. Can you give Daddy one more, sweet girl?” you heard him whisper encouragingly.

With a strained moan and eyes shut tight, you finally let out a gush of release. The force was so sudden Aaron had to pull out and watch his own cum drip down your thighs. His eyes widened a fraction as he stared at the pool of wetness glistening on his kitchen floor.

And fucking hell, that felt so good.

Aaron didn’t waste a second and quickly knelt behind you, separating your weak and trembling legs carefully before running his tongue on your spent and dripping cunt. You shivered at the feeling of his beard scratching the back of your thigh but you let him, enjoying the feeling of his tongue following the trail of his own release that drips down your legs.

“Too m-much, Aaron. Please…” you plead softly, sighing as you felt his fingers spread out your pussy.

“Just a taste, angel. Can you push out more of my cum?”

He keened and hummed as he gathered his own release on his tongue. And before you even know it, he was already kissing you, watching his own cum and spit reach your waiting tongue as you innocently glanced up at him, a far-gone look on your face.

“You’re such a sweet girl,” he whispered later on as he gently laid you down on his warm bed, now wrapped in his old, oversized t-shirt and newly bathed.

He placed a chaste kiss on your forehead, and cheeks, then nose, before kissing you lovingly on the lips. “Rest now, sweetheart. I’ll take you on a proper date tomorrow.”

For tag list request, here.

Your girl finally got her energy back after taking 4 pills of Vitamin B. LOL. Sorry for the long wait! Anyway, as always, likes, reblogs, and comments are highly appreciated. Hope you're having an incredible day and drink your water! (PS. Do you guys know I just realized I can reblog your reblogs with comments? I'm so dumb.)

Tags: @kimstills @readergf @downbad4reid @gghostwriter @elhotchner @pastelpinkflowerlife @the1boss @roseydoesypoesy @khxna @hangmanscoming @apollolynx98 @its-just-me-chey

[disaster-writer]

Tear You Apart

Pairing: Dabi x Reader

Summary: Someone in the League of Villains has been drugging you and doing things to you, and you were going to find out who

Word Count: 6.5k

Rating: X 18+

Warnings: Dark fic, smut, noncon, dubcon, masochism, sadism, drugging, mentions of exhibitionism/vouyerism

Minors DNI

There was a cockroach on your bedroom floor.

Your bedroom that was technically a small storage room with only a small futon and a lamp.

It was staring at you.

So you stared back, as your tired eyes tried to adjust to the blurry cockroach that sat no more than five inches from your face as you lay in bed.

You felt like you were hit by a truck.

The cockroach glowed in the sunlight that filtered into the room… you were lucky enough to end up with a window at least. Even if the moonlight never did reach far enough into the far corner of the room, leaving your imagination to run rampant in the middle of the night as to what lay within those shadows.

Though, you don’t think your imagination held a light to your reality now.

The room was spinning, you had to keep adjusting your eyes to the disgusting insect in front of you.

You pulled your bedsheet back ever so slightly, your arm broke through the cocoon of blankets you had wrapped yourself in. Slowly you reached your arm out, pointer finger outstretched, and neared the bug. 

You touched it.

Almost immediately the fucking thing scurried, flipped, and chirped over and over again, running rampant all over the floor. Until after what would be an angonizingly long two minutes for the insect, it died.

Each organ shut down one by one, its little body physically unable to function with the amount of pain a single stroke of your finger caused it.

You pulled your arm back into your cocoon and you stared at the dead cockroach.

You don’t remember taking off your gloves last night. That went for the hoodie you always wore to bed… that went for your pants… that went for your underwear.

You also don’t remember drinking anything last night.

But you were hungover.

Your head wouldn’t stop spinning, you felt like you were going to throw up, and everything just fucking hurt. But the general soreness from the hangover didn’t overshadow the burning, throbbing pain that came from between your legs.

Which meant it had happened again.

You felt your eyes watering, burning tears stinging at your tear ducts.

The first time you tried to chalk it up to falling into bad habits again.

Getting black out drunk was no stranger to you. It had always been easier to turn to the bottle than learn how to control your quirk. It dulled your senses, lessened the harm you could inflict, made you forget what it was to be an outcast of society.

It was safer for everyone that way.

But ever since the broker found you, selling you sweet visions of the future. A future you could help fight for by teaming up with the League of Villains. You had fallen hook, line, and sinker. You quit your vices.

But even if you had decided to drink the night away, that didn’t explain the blood and what you could only assume was dried cum that caked the inside of your thighs.

It was even on your face and in your hair.

That’s what had sent you reeling.

No man, woman, animal, or insect could touch you without immediately doubling over to writhe in pain.

So who the fuck managed to put their cock in you.

You had been so caught up in the how that you never stopped to think about the who until now.

You didn’t want to think of the only logical explanation.

One of your comrades was drugging you and raping you in the middle of the night and now that it’s happened twice, there’s no denying it. No more denying what was clearly in front of you no matter how fucking insane or impossible it should have been.

A choked sob clawed at your dry throat.

Joining this ragtag team of villains was the only thing that ever gave you a sense of purpose in your waste of a life. 

You had nothing.

A father that blamed you for your mother’s death. Telling you that all the unending pain you caused her was the reason she put that gun in her mouth. Out on the streets by fifteen, left to mug people with your quirk just to get by. Getting caught by heroes left and right left you with a criminal record. Alcohol had been your only sense of comfort.

You couldn’t leave the League. You can’t go back to that life.

You don’t know how long you laid in bed covered in those dried fluids and waiting for the world to stop spinning, all you knew was that the sun was setting by the time you forced yourself up and your bladder was fucking killing you.

You extracted your naked body from your cocoon, side stepping the dead roach to gather your clothes from last night that were scattered everywhere.

You pulled your thick black hoodie over your head and your black sweatpants up, hiding the blood and cum so that you could properly take care of it in the bathroom. 

You put your gloves on and pulled your hood up and left the room.

~

“She’s alive! No she isn’t!” Was the first thing that greeted you when you had left the bathroom.

”Hey Twice,” you mumbled, trudging past him and to the bar. You sat down.

Sitting hurt.

You barely looked around the room. You didn’t have to see to know that the entirety of the League was hanging out in that bar. These days it seemed you all were just sitting on your asses and twiddling your thumbs, waiting for the opportunity to make a move.

”Would you like a drink?”

You looked up tiredly to Kurogiri who stood behind the bar and shook your head, the amount of sugar in the mocktail you had Kurogiri make for you sometimes would probably make your pounding headache worse, “Water’s fine.”

You folded your arms on the bar counter and buried your face into them.

You didn’t want to be here with any of them right now but going back to your bedroom with those disgusting stains all over your futon also made you sick.

Either way you were trapped.

You didn’t mind the idle chatter from the others though. You could hear Mr. Compress and Spinner talking behind you in the booth. Twice was on the floor with Toga and from the sounds of it was playing around with his quirk and random items from the bar. Kurogiri talked to Shigaraki to your right of the counter and to your left was a normally brooding Dabi.

One of them had raped you.

You heard a ‘clink’ next to your folded arms, and found Kurogiri placing your water in front of you.

”Thanks,” you mumbled, grasping and raising the glass to your dry lips.

You gulped down the water quickly, draining the glass. You were so, extremely dehydrated.

Placing your glass down you looked to the side, only to find Shigaraki staring at you from behind ‘Father’s’ hand.

Shigaraki always fucking stared.

’The fucking virgin just wants to fuck you. Probably wants to see how long he’d last before you make his dick fall off’

That’s what Dabi had told you after watching you shift uncomfortably in your seat under his unwavering gaze your first night there.

You couldn’t deny he was suspect number 1 on your list.

You pulled the drawstrings of your hood, putting your head back down.

”Where were you this morning. We had a meeting.” 

Fuck— now he was talking to you.

”I had a rough morning,” is what you replied with, words muffled by the fabric of your hoodie.

Your heart beat picked up, beginning to hammer in your ribcage as you heard him stand up.

He was moving closer, sitting himself in the seat next to yours.

He had said nothing for a few long beats and the uncomfortable proximity of his body to yours made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

”Someone was in your room last night.”  

It felt like the air was knocked out of you. 

You slowly peered up at him through your hood, finding Shigaraki watching in sick satisfaction as if he just caught you red handed.

The accusation hung heavily in the air as you tried to find the words. Was he self admitting? Or did he see something? Did he know who it was?

But he continued before you could respond.

”You told us no one could touch you without your quirk activating but you’re fucking all night and missing meetings in the morning. You lied to us.”

“No—“ you blurted, perhaps slightly too loud. You leaned in closer, “I—I don’t— it’s not my fault,” you panicked, “I don’t know what’s happening— I would never lie to you about something like that, please. The League is all I have.”

He eyed you and the tears that brimmed in your eyes. His scrutinizing gaze unwavering from your face as he decided whether or not to believe your words. 

“Fine,” he muttered.

”Do… do you know who it was?” You asked softly, still not completely sure it still wasn’t him to begin with, but if it wasn’t and he did know…

”You don’t know?” He asked, suddenly starting to scratch at his neck.

”No.” you replied, quickly wiping a tear that fell.

He was about to say something when someone cut in.

”Would you just leave the crybaby alone.”

Dabi.

“I’m not a crybaby,” you muttered, finally leaning away from Shigaraki, barely sparing Dabi a glance. 

Shigaraki started scratching with his other hand now, which meant Kurogiri was near, ready to talk him down from whatever ledge he was currently walking on.

”Yeah, sure,” he remarked sarcastically.

You should just go back to your room. You don’t think you can handle talking to someone else that could possibly be violating you.

Unlike Shigaraki, Dabi barely spared you a glance and rarely talked to you. And although he seemed to be more mentally there than some of your other teammates, you wouldn’t put it past him to hurt you.

He still had a cock after all.

Kurogiri refilled your glass.

”Thanks,” you muttered again, taking a sip.

This was too much. Too suffocating. You needed to be alone even if that meant seeing those stains on your bed.

You stood back up, taking your water with you.

”I’m going back to bed.”

With that, you left the room ignoring the stares and the ‘boos’ that followed after you from Toga for leaving so early.

You’d work with them but for now, they couldn’t be your friends.

Not until you found out which of those fuckers had touched you.

-

You isolated yourself after that.

You went through the motions. You did what you were supposed to. You did the quirk training Shigaraki’s master required of you. You went to the meetings. You tried finding new recruits now and then.

But you stopped hanging out with the others and you only spoke to them if it had to do with business with the League.

Toga and Twice seemed to be the most broken up about it, you had been the closest with those two prior to everything.

But the more you were left with your own thoughts the more everyone became a suspect.

Even Toga. She was a shapeshifter and even if it was unlikely, the fact that she even had the ability to transform into the others set you on edge.

And what if Twice was making clones. You knew he didn’t make clones of himself but what if he made that one exception. Or what if he made a clone of one of the others without them knowing and the clone was the one that raped you and Twice killed it after so not even a real person attacked you and you’re just losing your mind in front of everyone and they have no clue as to why-

‘What if, What if, What if’

You were losing your fucking mind.

You weren’t really even sleeping at night, three hours at most. You were too scared someone was going to sneak in. Whoever it was was clearly somewhat resistant to your quirk and your only line of defense you ever relied on was useless.

But you also refused to leave. You had run from every one of your problems your entire life. You weren’t about to do that here. You needed this— a purpose for your life. Hope for a better future.

You needed a plan.

You needed to figure out who was hurting you. How they were drugging you. How they were touching you.

You had just as much of a right to be here as the rest of them and you weren’t going to be trapped in fear.

You just needed a plan.

~

Dabi sat at the end of the bar, off in his own little world, away from the others and their bonding. Away from their talks about nothing that wouldn’t matter in the end anyway. 

It had been another fucking useless day, just a bunch of “villains” sitting around and hanging out.

His own efforts have proven fruitless, everyone out there was trash and finding new recruits was becoming harder and harder to find with each day.

Cyan eyes glanced at the group, some holding careless smiles and laughing, others brooding in their own little minds as well.

They were all there except you.

You hadn’t around them much these days but slowly and surely you had been coming out of your room more and more again. 

It seemed like you were starting to let your guard down again.

But right now you were busy in that old warehouse the League found for you to quirk train. 

Your training in particular was a cruel affair that he’s had the privilege of sitting in on once or twice.

It was more torture than anything else. Trying to see just how much pain you could inflict on unwitting strangers that had been swept off the streets for that reason and that reason alone.

He couldn’t be sure if you enjoyed it or not. Your face always passive and indecipherable in those moments. But you’d do it anyway. You did whatever ‘ol crusty and his master asked of you.

It pissed him off how willingly you followed after that fucking virgin.

It also pissed him off seeing how much Shigaraki enjoyed that.

Dabi sighed, raising his glass to his lips and taking a swig of the drink.

You’d be back any minute now and you’d be tired, exhausted even.

Maybe you’d want to have a quick drink with the others before heading to bed.

His jaw tensed at the thought and he drained the rest of his glass.

Or maybe you’d go straight to hiding in your room again. Barely sparing a glance or a few words with anyone.

Fuck.

He may have overdone it last time. 

But the sight of you beneath him, his hands spreading your thighs wide open, watching his cock thrusting in and out of your tight little cunt— each barbell pierced into his cock disappearing and reappearing one by one while you babbled whatever came to your inebriated mind, tits jolting with every thrust— it was too much. And Fuck— the way it hurt, every nerve ending a live fucking wire—

”Hey guys,” you mumbled tiredly.

He didn’t even hear the door open.

The others greeted you as he watched you approach them in his peripherals. Some greetings more animated than others, in Toga’s and Twice’s case specifically.

”How was quirk training!?” Toga asked with a toothy grin.

”Fine,” you mumbled, taking a seat at the bar next to Compress.

”Would you like a drink?” Kurogiri asked per routine.

”Yeah, surprise me. Just no alcohol,” you nodded, making Toga cheer, happy to see you spending time with them again. “Don’t get too excited. ‘M not staying up for long, I have more quirk training tomorrow morning so I’m going to bed after this one.”

”Aw boo—,” she grumbled. “No fun.”

”Hey, how’s the gun feel by the way?” Spinner asked.

”Still getting the hang of it, but it feels good. Thanks again.”

”Yeah, no problem.”

The conversation shifted as Twice started telling stories of his more adventurous exploits when he was younger. And there was Shigaraki eye fucking you again.

Dabi watched from the corner of his eye as Kurogiri made your drink.

Weeks had passed since that last time he visited you. Kurogiri had made you only four drinks since then.

And Dabi watched patiently as he poured in each ingredient.

But it was tonight that he used the pineapple juice.

You were the only one in the League that drank the pineapple juice.

He watched him place the glass down in front of you. 

He watched you take a sip.

A grin pulled on the corners of his mouth.

From here on out all he needed to do was wait. And Dabi was nothing if not patient. He had to wait for you to finish the drink, wait to hear you tell everyone you were tired and going to bed, and finally wait as each and every member of the League turned in for the night.

Usually by the time he could sneak into your room you were peacefully asleep. Never expecting Dabi to rouse you from your sleep, surprise taking your features every time.

Tonight was no different.

Just like clockwork you were the first to retreat to your room for the night… but not before draining your glass.

Fuck— he was getting excited.

One by one, each of his comrades decided to call it a night.

First Shigaraki and Kurogiri, then Compress, then Toga, Twice, Spinner…

And that made one.

Dabi cleared his throat, choking back the excited giggle that threatened to escape and climbed to his feet.

It had been too fucking long since he’s been able to indulge like this. With not much else to do these days he had been left with his own imagination and hand for too long.

Like a moth to a flame he found himself at your door, silently pushing it open and slipping inside.

His eyes nearly glowed in the dimly lit room as they landed on your curled up figure, laid peacefully on your futon, fast asleep.

Moonlight was the only thing to illuminate the room.

His cock throbbed, it was painfully hard as it had been for almost an hour now, precum smearing his boxers no doubt.

He palmed himself through his pants as he walked towards your peaceful form, pretty face becoming clearer the closer he got and the more his eyes adjusted to the lighting.

Unceremoniously, he collapsed to the floor, sitting down in front of you, no more than five inches from you. He watched your chest rise and fall with each of your breaths.

Carefully, he picked up a lock of hair and tugged.

You stirred but were far too drugged to wake up from the action.

He dropped the lock, fingertips now reaching for your face— your cheekbone, gently brushing them along your warm skin.

His breath hitched, little electrical shocks started in his fingers and danced up the length of his arm.

”Fuck, got my fucking cock throbbing, crybaby” he panted huskily, “Time to open those pretty eyes of yours now,” he said, giving your shoulder a shake.

“Hmm,” you whined.

”Wake up,” he said again, a harder shake this time.

You blinked your eyes open just slightly, before shutting them again.

You gave a confused hum, “Dabi?” You mumbled.

”That’s right crybaby.”

”What’re—why,” you slurred together.

He pushed your shoulder back— you were so pliant that he was able to effortlessly maneuver you onto your back.

You continued to mumble, trying to make sense in your drug addled mind as to why Dabi was in your room. All the while he was climbing onto the mattress and spreading your thighs as he settled between them. He tugged you down slightly, hooking your legs over his hips and pressing his clothed cock against you.

”Miss me crybaby? I’ve sure missed you,” he grinned, grabbing your gloved hand in his own and guiding it towards the tent in his pants, “See.” He exhaled breathily, using your hand to grasp his cock.

You tried opening your eyes again, waking up a bit more.

”Wha’s happenin’” you murmured, fingers wiggling in his hold as you tried shifting beneath him.

He only hummed, saying nothing as he lifted your hand up. He grasped the middle finger of your glove and pulled.

And just like every other time, your eyes shot open.

”No,” you whined.

”Yes,” he hissed back, pulling your glove completely off and discarding it to the side.

”Can’t touch,” you pulled your hand back and he let you cradle it to your chest. Instead shrugging his jacket off and pulling his shirt off before tossing them with your glove.

”Yes you can,” he grabbed your wrist, placing your hand on his abdomen.

Specifically on the deep purple scars.

Pain radiated from the surface of skin you touched, deep into the tissue. A shockwave of hurt burst from the center of his body, outwards.

His head fell back as a guttural groan clawed its way from his throat.

He ground his cock into you as wave after wave of pain wracked his body.

It was then that your sobs reached his ears.

He dropped your hand but the pain lingered blissfully, though it was dull.

“Fuck.”

The first touch was always the best. 

He grinned as he gazed at your tear stricken face.

”Let’s get you out of this,” he said, tugging your hoodie up.

You struggled but were too weak to stop him, every muscle in your body relaxed from the drugs.

You babbled nonsense, he didn’t even bother to try to make sense of what you were saying, just like every time before. Besides, the blood rushing in his ears was distracting anyway. 

You had no bra on, making his fingers move to the button of your jeans, fumbling with it as he eyed your tits heaving up and down with each of your breaths. He finally yanked them off your legs, along with your panties.

“Why are— does it hurt?” You continued to mumble, “How.”

“Hah—“ A laugh escaped Dabi. Tonight you seemed more concerned about hurting him rather than him stripping you down naked and getting ready to fuck you. “Wanna remember how good I can make you feel?” He asked, fingers now finding your wet cunt, stroking between your folds. That familiar, irresistible pain resumed in his hand as he pet you.

You gasped and wriggled, trying to move up the bed and get away, but the new grip on your hip prevented you from doing so.

Dabi’s head was reeling, pain and pleasure clouded his mind.

You were the only fucking girl that set his nerves ablaze in such a way. If it wasn’t for his vengeance set in a different, higher place he thinks he would never leave the bedroom with you.

Two fingers pressed into your cunt and slid in, making you squeal.

”Dabi no—“ you sobbed, continuing to wriggle in vain. “Why—“

“Shh,” he hushed, “Don’t think, just feel,” his thumb found your clit and rubbed tight little circles into it.

”Stop— I never— I’mma virgin.“

He barked out another laugh.

”You haven’t been a virgin for over a month now crybaby.”

You whimpered and cried, turning your head into your pillow as your voice became higher and higher pitched the longer this went on.

His free hand stroked your body, feeling the curve of your hips and the dip in your waist before gripping your breast. He then dived for the other, latching his lips around your nipple, pain sparking in his lips and tongue and the parts of his chest that brushed against you.

He continued to suck and tug on your nipples as his other hand continued to work you between your legs.

”Why, why, why—“ you cried, “Dabi why.”

”Because you’re mine you fucking idiot— now cum already.” He growled against your breast.

Your back arched as if his voice held any actual authority, and you came. Tears streaking your face with each spasm of your cunt.

When you came back down to earth you were a shivering, sniveling mess.

”See,” he sighed, “That wasn’t so bad now, was it?”

You sniffled, keeping your eyes squeezed shut.

”None of that,” he pulled the hand from between your legs and cupped your face, fingers digging into your cheeks as he smeared your fluids against your face. “No pretending you’re somewhere else. Open your eyes.” You blinked them open slowly, “Good.” He hummed, smacking your cheek lightly and sitting back up.

The pain you inflicted had finally turned into a duller thrum throughout his body. 

Meaning he had to fuck you now for his next fix.

He sucked your sticky wetness from his fingers before undoing his belt then his jeans.

He pulled his cock out, the feeling of it brushing against you making you inch away.

”See that baby?” He grunted, tilting his head back as he stroked his cock and cupped his balls, “You’ve got me so fucking pent up. Makin’ me wait almost an entire month.” He looked back down to you, eyeing you up like an animal. “Ready for my cock crybaby~” he taunted.

The words had fresh tears spilling down your cheeks.

”I’ll take that as a yes.”

He tugged you down by the hips, cock nestling between your folds. He gasped out and jolted at the sensation in his cock. 

There was no separation of the pain and pleasure you inflicted on him. It was one. Indivisible. 

And so much better than anyone else could ever offer.

He gripped his cock and lined it up at your entrance, heart beating rapidly against his ribcage.

His breathing came out hard and laborious, chest rising and falling dramatically as he psyched himself up to push into you.

That initial thrust would have him cumming. It did every time.

Fingers bit into your hips.

“1…” he growled, “2…” he shut his eyes.

”3.” Said the voice behind his ear.

Dabi’s eyes snapped open in time to see the bullet lodge itself between your eyes.

Your dead body turned to sludge, melting beneath him.

His ears rang as the unmistakable feel of a barrel of a gun pressed itself against the back of his head.

You held the gun, standing over Dabi’s kneeling figure.

As the ringing died in both yours and Dabi’s ears, the deafening silence became louder.

Bile crawled up the back of your throat as you looked over his shoulder.

His cock was still hard.

You cocked the gun, the little ‘click’ shattering the silence.

He sighed, shoulders slumping as he pushed his head back, leaning into the gun’s barrel.

”Maybe…” his raspy voice started, “I underestimated you.”

”I could kill you,” you replied coolly, “I should kill you.”

”But you won’t. I’m a pretty big player in all this League of Villains shit and you know that,” he started turning slowly, looking over his shoulder, bathing his profile in a bluish moonlight and illuminating the sick grin he wore, “So what exactly’s the plan then? Huh, crybaby?”

He was taunting you.

You set your jaw tightly and genuinely thought about pulling the trigger.

The nickname made you sick. You thought he was just being an asshole to you in the bar a few weeks ago when he called you that… you wouldn’t have thought it was a twisted little nickname he gave you after assaulting you.

”I want to talk.”

He scoffed, turning around, gazing up at you as he sat leisurely on your futon. He didn’t even bother to tuck his cock back into his pants. “I didn’t come in here to talk.”

”But that’s exactly what’s going to happen asshole or I’m going to tell Shigaraki—“

”He already knows crybaby. He watched.”

You faltered, face completely falling, “He- he what?”

Dabi grinned maliciously at you, “I let him watch last time, especially since you were such a good girl for me the first time I stopped by, taking my cock so well. I figured since he has such a hard time keeping his eyes off you then I’d really give him something to look at.”

“So,” you began shakily, “When he was interrogating me at the bar for missing that meeting—“

”Oh he knew why. He had been jerkin’ it to you the entire night.”

Fuck— tears were starting to collect in your tear ducts.

You blinked quickly in an attempt to hold them back.

You were just so fucking weak. How was it that you found yourself in progressively worse situations your entire life.

Joining these guys was supposed to mean something.

”Why,” you swallowed, gun shaking in your hand, “I thought we were supposed to be teammates.”

”I’d argue that we’re more than that now,” the words felt sinister, making you grow sicker by the second, “Do you want to know what the first thing I thought when the broker introduced you?”

You stayed silent, you didn’t want to play into this little game of his.

”I thought ‘now what cruel motherfucker would make someone that looked like you but wasn’t allowed to be touched’? But then,” he leaned back on his hands, nearly presenting his cock to you, “Once I was balls deep in that tight little virgin cunt, and you were shaking and crying in my arms I realized that you were made for me. I am the only man in this world that can fuck you. Your cunt belongs to me.”

Shit, shit, shit

”Don’t feel too bad though. This isn’t a one way street. I’ve never had pussy that’s made me fucking shake before, and that’s all you crybaby. You’re the only one that can offer me the kind of pain and pleasure that makes me forget about every crappy thing in my life.”

He was getting in your fucking head. 

“You’re insane.” You muttered hoarsely, throat suddenly dry, gun shaking even more in your hands.

”Well, what sane man would want you?”

You don’t know what possessed you, the weeks of anxiety? All the pent up anger he had caused?

Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. You threw the gun across your little room and lunged at Dabi.

He wanted to feel pain? Then you’d show him what actual pain feels like. 

Your inebriated body couldn’t access the full potential of your quirk.

And you hadn’t been quirk training for nothing.

You tackled him to the futon and landed in the muddy remnants of your clone, straddling his waist as you placed both your palms against his bare chest.

Dabi’s hand flew to your wrists as… as a groan left his throat. It wasn’t a scream or a wail, it wasn’t what you expected. And the pinch in his eyebrows was anything but anguish.

His palms were hot but he wasn’t using his quirk to push you away.

You had seen and heard looks of agony and suffering on people more than you’d care to admit, but this was not that.

You pushed against his chest harder, against the deep purple scars and seams of his body, digging your fingers into the stapled flesh and drawing blood.

”Fuck— that’s different,” he groaned out, “Why’s it different.”

”Why aren’t you in more pain,” you snapped, “I’ve made grown men kill themselves after only brushing against my arm just to end their suffering. What the fuck is wrong with you!” You screamed into his face.

He only moaned in response.

Which was when you had realized he had reached down when you weren’t paying attention. He reached between the gap where you had either leg on either side of his body and was fisting his cock. He was jerking himself off while you were hurting him.

A disillusioned laugh escaped your throat, broken and choppy.

This was absurd.

This went against everything you believed about your quirk while growing up.

That your entire identity surrounded the fact that you inflicted pain and everyone and anything would always see you as the villain because of that. You were meant to be avoided and feared, never wanted or desired.

You were losing your goddamned mind.

”You’re a fucking freak,” you suddenly laughed louder at the realization, watching him drag his fist over his cock, the metal barbells of his Jacob’s ladder glinting in the moonlight. “You walk around here all tough and moody, acting like you’re better than everyone else but you’re just as fucking crazy as the rest of them.”

“You’re just as sick,” he choked out with a laugh of his own, “Watching me playing with your clone. You listened to her cry and beg me to stop and you just watched.”

”Shut up,” you hissed. You knew it was wrong, you had promised her you’d stop him before he touched her inappropriately, but when he started you couldn’t bring yourself to end things. 

A twisted part of you wanted to watch and it made you fucking sick.

Just as what you did next made you sick.

You reached down between your legs and grabbed his cock yourself, pushing his own hand away.

He threw his head back, letting out an even louder groan. You could tell this one hurt more than the hand on his chest and it made you smile knowing he was in pain no matter how much pleasure he got from it.

You started jerking him off yourself, listening to his heaving grunts and groans with every stroke of your hand. You paid no mind to the piercings in his cock, if he liked the pain then he could deal with any snagging.

He started tugging on your shirt, pushing it up higher. His hands pawing at your body until one reached your bra, pushing it up to grab your tits.

Your mind felt like it was splitting. You didn’t want him to touch you but you didn’t want to stop him.

But the nail in the coffin was when he tangled a hand in the back of your hair and tugged you down.

He was kissing you.

He tasted like burnt flesh and cigarettes.

His tongue forced itself past your lips and brushed against your own in broad strokes.

You didn’t pull away, you only kissed him back with equal fervor, biting his lips and letting him stick his tongue as far back into your mouth as he wanted to.

You moaned into the kiss, a moan that had been swallowed by his mouth, sending a flutter of excitement in the pit of your stomach.

He broke the kiss. Glowing cyan eyes boring into yours, “Ride me crybaby.”

You sat up, pulling your hoodie over your head and quickly undoing your bra, throwing them to the side as Dabi pulled at your pants.

You smacked his hands away, standing up to work them down your legs yourself before landing on top of him again.

He hissed at the pain as you touched him with a newly exposed body.

You ignored him, grabbing his cock and lining it up at your entrance. You sunk down slowly, adjusting to the size and the feeling of the piercings entering you.

But it wasn’t fast enough for Dabi because he was grabbing at your hips and pulling you down forcefully onto his cock.

You shook and cried out from the pain, collapsing against his chest as you sucked in breath after breath.

But Dabi shook harder from underneath you, pained moans of your name leaving his lips. You watched in curiosity, ignoring your own throbbing pain from between your legs as he started panting, body going slack.

You started laughing, you were pretty sure the fucking freak just came, ”Did you just—?” 

”It’ll get hard again, just start fucking moving,” he grunted, grabbing at your hips.

So you did.

You had no idea what your were doing so you just did whatever felt good, and grinding your clit against his pubic hair felt really good.

The feeling of his cock getting hard inside you again made you dig your fingers into his stapled flesh once more, drawing more blood.

”Shit— ride me better,” he hissed.

”I don’t know how—“

“Shut up,” he spat, holding your hips in a bruising grip as he bent his knees to get some leverage and began to thrust into you from underneath.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped. You had never felt anything like this before.

The next second he was slipping his arms around your back and switching your positions, slipping out of you but you had barely any time to process it as he slammed back into you as he was now hunched over your body.

You yelped at the brutal pace he set, hips pounding against yours. You could feel his balls slapping against your ass and every piercing dragging in and out of you.

Your high pitched, breathy moans mixed with his own deeply pained and pleasured grunts. The sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and all the lewd wet noises that came with every thrust made you blush deeply.

Next he was yanking your leg up, hooking it over his elbow, allowing him to reach deeper inside you.

You threw your head back, “There,” you breathed out.

You were getting close and Dabi could tell by the clenching and unclenching of your cunt. He snaked a hand down and found your clit, rubbing tight circles into it.

“Cum crybaby, show me this cunt belongs to me.”

You fucking hated that nickname. And you hated his entitlement.

You wrapped your hands around his throat, listening to those pained noises that were starting to make your head spin.

He fucked into you even harder.

Everything went white. 

You were cumming and then he was cumming, the two of you shaking in each others arms.

He had slid out with a hiss, collapsing beside you, careful not to touch you.

You stared up at your ceiling, listening to his pants. You turned to look at him.

He really was shaking. 

You reached over and touched his chest, grinning at the now truly pained reaction you got.

He activated his quirk making you hiss and pull away, cradling your now burned hand to your chest.

It was quiet for a few beats.

”Why are you able to touch me?” You finally asked.

”The doctor that put me back together said my pain receptors are fucked.”

”Oh,” that actually… made a lot of sense.

You looked back to him again. Eyeing his profile, following the slope of his nose and the subtle pout of his mouth. You looked at his scars, how the deep purple skin was being held together to his healthy skin by staples. You stared at the swollen seams where the skin was connected.

You were beginning to think he had it wrong.

He was actually made for you.

-

Tear You Apart Prequel (Dabi x Reader x Shigaraki)

Deleted Scene

————————

Requests open

[redbird-tf]

Harmony

Sam winchester x younger sister x dean winchester

(More sam focused)

Summary: the brothers still had lots to learn about their sister, like the weight of her favorite harmony

Word count: 1.2k

Notes: the harmony i think of for reference

Warnings: angst, mention of death, violence

To say it had been a tough day would be an understatement it had been a tough few months. You were having a hard time adjusting to finding out you had two brothers, Sam was struggling to step into the big brother role, and Dean seemed to be doing the best out of the three. Of course, Dean was shocked, but he had been a big brother for years. The only thing Dean struggled with was the guilt and anger that you had been in this life alone for years.Hunting together was also proving to be a challenge. Dean and Sam had teamed up for years, but your independent nature often clashed with their established rhythm, making hunts more difficult. It would take time before you could truly function as a team.

If the boys had learned anything about you it was that harmony you were always humming. It wasn’t from any song the boys recognized, but it was the same every time you hummed it. Sometimes they’d hear it even when you weren’t around, because of how ingrained it was in their mind. Right now it was serving as the source of Sam’s annoyance. “Y/n i can't focus with your humming” Sam snapped from the passenger seat. You were lying in the back half asleep and hadn't even noticed you were humming. You let out a huff, abruptly grumbling out a half-hearted “sorry” which seemed to irritate Sam more as he slammed his book shut. “You know what? I've had it up to here with you.” He exclaimed turning to face you. “What did i do!?” You shouted back sitting straight up. “UH, the bruise on my face!” He mocked pointing at his black eye. “Thats not my fault!” You rebuttal, furrowing your brows “It wouldn’t have happened if you had just followed the plan” he countered “Your plan didn't work!”

“Alright, enough!” Dean’s booming voice made you both fall silent. “We all messed up, alright? Now knock it off.” He stated firmly. The car stayed silent, but he could see you two exchanging glares from the corner of his eye “Stop looking at each other” Dean commanded, and in sync, you both slouched back with your arms crossed. “Why do I always gotta be the frick’n mom” dean mumbled under his breath.

———————

“This it, Sammy?” Dean questioned pulling over. Sam looked down at his map “Route 46, the last spotting of a vampire was here” Sam stated stepping out of the car. “Got the dead man's blood?” Dean asked watching Sam sling the bag over his shoulder. Sam nodded leading the way into the woods. “I've never seen a vampire before” you whispered to Dean to prevent Sam from hearing you. “Well their not easy…” Dean paused seeing the flicker of worry in your eyes “Dead man's blood is about the only thing that will kill them, and they come in packs…but so do we” he explained trying to ease your obvious concern of messing up.

“Over here” Sam gestured for you to catch up. “Thats it?” You asked quietly, eyeing the old barn “There's only three in there” Sam said lowering his binoculars. You watched as they prepared their knives by dowsing them in blood, “be careful with that,” Dean stated handing you a dagger. You all crept to the back of the barn and snuck in through a cracked window. You dropped in a bit louder than intended, prompting Sam to shush you, annoyance flashing across your face. Tiptoeing over to the sleeping vampires. You loomed over them, waiting for Dean’s signal and when you got it, you pushed your danger hard into the vamp. He scratched hard into your arm but you held firm, only pulling away when you were sure he was down for good. You turned to your brothers “That was easier than expected”

You quickly realized you had spoken too soon as your body slammed violently intk the ground and your vision became a red blur. A burning sensation spread across your face and loud noises overwhelmed you, causing you to scream out for your brothers “i can't see! I can't see anything!” You cried in pure terror. The last thing you heard was sams voice drawing near before everything went black.

——————-

“It's been over three hours Dean” Sam's voice wavered while he paced back and forth. “She’ll be fine” Dean reassured him, adjusting the bandage covering your eyes before leaning back in the chair at your bedside. “What if she hit her head too hard?” Sam stuttered out. “She's fine,” Dean said sternly, though part of him was trying to convince himself. “We should take her to the hospital,” Sam insisted, balling his fist. “And say what, Sam? My sister got scratched across the face by a vamp” Dean explained the harsh truth. Sam sighed looking down at you, his lip quivering. “I'm gonna grab a beer,” Dean said, rising from the chair knowing he couldn’t hold it together much longer.

Once Dean had left, Sam knelt by your side and took your hand in his. Guilt gnawed him, knowing the last thing he did was yell at you for something as simple as humming. What's worse is that he knew you hummed to comfort yourself. A detail he had picked up on over the months. He’d watched you hum yourself to sleep, after hunts, or when the world felt overwhelming. Sam bit his lip feeling his eyes begin to gloss over. How could he have been so cruel? How could he call himself a big brother?

He closed his eyes and began to hum the familiar harmony, seeking his own solace within it. “Mom?” Your voice rang, barely louder than a whisper. Sams's head shot up “Y/n” he breathed out. His body flooded with Relief. “Sam?” You became confused as you abruptly sat up. “Woah, easy there,” Sam said placing his hands on your shoulder to steady you. “I-I can't see” stammered, panic creeping back in. “I know. You got hurt and we had to stitch you up. I can remove the bandage if you want” he explained gently in an attempt to soothe you. You nodded and Sam began to slowly unravel the bandages. You looked around and saw the bunker walls surrounding you, your eyes beginning to uncontrollably water.

Your figures brushed over the stitches on your face, tears beginning to well in your eyes. Your reaction was making Sam nervous “We did the best we could, it shouldn’t scar too bad” he tried to reassure you, but You stayed silent, your gaze dropping to your lap. “I thought i died, i thought..” you paused, “i thought you were my mom” you muttered. Despite the circumstances, a small laugh escaped Sam's lips “Why would you think that?” He asked with a slight smirk. “You were humming her melody” you stated blankly. Sams's smile dropped, and the guilt he didn’t know could grow any larger, grew “y/n, I'm sorry…i didn't know” he apologized, moving to sit next to you. You could hear the sincerity in his voice, but you couldn’t muster the strength to look him in the eye.

“She's awake?” A voice shattered the tension as Dean rushed to your side, unintentionally pushing Sam aside. He embraced you tightly “you gave us a scare there, kid” he breathed out with a chuckle. You mumbled a sorry into his shoulder before pulling away to meet sams gaze. The eye contact took him by surprise and it took him a moment to gather his words “y/n, I'm sorry for snapping at you, you didn't deserve that.” He watched as your gaze softened, but continued to press on“And…i won't hum that again, i didn't know” he explained lowering his head. You shook your head “No Sam, it's ok. You do it perfectly and…” he gazed up at you again, seeing a smile tug at your lips “It's comforting” Your tender tone washed away the heaviness in his chest. Sam mouthed a thank you, taking your hand in his as his thumb glided over your knuckles.

“Did i miss something?” Dean questioned glancing between you and sam, a hint of frustration that made you both laugh. “No no…i just” Sam stopped, taking a moment to appreciate the happy version of you that had replaced the distressed one he’d seen just moments before. “I'm just learning what it means to be a big brother” Sam expressed with a wide smile. Dean rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah, then you can watch her while i get some shut-eye” he said, giving Sam’s shoulder a light pat. Sam tried to rebuttal, but Dean cut him off “you wanted to be the big brother, welcome to the job,” Dean teased. He shook his head until he felt you lean into him. He glanced over seeing how you relaxed against him. This is the brother he wanted to be.

[cripplecharacters]

Do you have tangible advice on *how* to research different disabilities for writing? How to find specific blogs beyond searching the name of the disability on Tumblr, forums, websites with good info, etc? I see a lot of advice that is basically just "research the disability and talk to people who have it" but with how Google has gone down in quality, I'm not sure where to look beyond the surface level info (plus how to find people with the disability who are willing to share niche details/answer really specific situational questions). Thank you for everything you do on this blog!

Hey!

I'd say that you should break the research process into a few steps.

First, figure out what you should actually look into. Think about the genre, intended audience, and role of the character. A background character in a comedy meant for elementary school kids and a main character in an adult romantic novel will have two different approaches. You don't have to (and probably shouldn't) overdo a character that doesn't need it - otherwise it can end up feeling like some sort of disability awareness PSA, and that's probably not what you want.

With that in mind, you can start the actual research. I think that the websites of organizations/foundations for people with that specific disabilities are the best, since they cover a lot of things from many different angles. They are also usually written in simpler language than medical websites (which are also great, but I get that not everyone can understand those, not everyone's fluent in English, etc.) and have more tangible advice for "how to function with XYZ" essentially. It also can give you a glimpse of what your character could specifically struggle with, especially in case of a recent disability - medical pages often won't talk about insurance problems, interpersonal issues, or actually coping with the new state one's body is in. Check the FAQs, or the most commonly visited pages, stuff like that to get an idea on what's important. For example, these are some of the most concise explanations of how someone with a complete spinal cord injury at a specific level might function and what they might need. Something like this can be a good start to figure out where your characters "is", so to speak.

Some organizations for common disabilities might also have some sort of "media representation" page that's made specifically for writers. UK's Down Syndrome Association has one, Face Equality International has one, Phoenix Society has one, US Foundation for the Blind has one, etc.

This alone is more research than the vast majority of writers bother to do. If you actually understand:

what the disability is,

what symptoms it has,

how those affect your character in day-to-day life,

how to avoid the most common offensive stereotypes,

you are doing better than a lot of published writers, to be honest.

Okay, but what can you do to make it even better:

Since at this step you know what symptoms your character has and which ones you will actually show to the audience, you can start researching them one by one.

Here you might have to go read some medical studies, and learning how to get information out of those is a skill that needs some practice. But it is necessary to figure out if your blind character's vision loss is more likely to be total with no light perception or 20/200 (and, to figure out if your character's eye condition even causes blindness... because I've seen "blind characters" who are blind from eye conditions that... do not cause vision loss) so that you can actually research appropriate accommodations or aids.

Knowing specific symptoms will be even more helpful if your character's disability isn't very common - symptoms are very rarely tied to just a single disability, and you might have more luck researching a completely different one. For example, if you can't find info on something related to being a unilateral arm amputee, try searching for solutions that hemiplegics use. Not all will apply, but a lot of this stuff will be the same.

Make sure you understand what you do or don't do with those symptoms. There might be treatments, there might be some lifestyle changes to be done, there might be some strict limitation that you will have to put on your character for them to make sense. I think it's better to fit the character concept to the symptoms that you want and not the other way around - if you do the latter, you might find yourself writing an essentially abled character or a disabled character that is just inconsistent. Not every disability will be compatible with every role or concept, and there's really no point in trying to put us literally everywhere. If you really can't find a solution for something you need the character to do, it might mean that there just isn't one.

Once you figure out the technical stuff and have all the "dry" information laid out, start seeking the real life equivalents. Start widely at first so that you can narrow it down later, not the other way around (unless you don't mind changing the character around a lot). If you have already done a lot of technical research before, you will have more specific questions (which are easier to answer than "how do I write a disabled character").

Look up daily vlogs and day-in-a-life videos on youtube from people with that disability (and don't be afraid of only very-low views count videos popping up as that's almost inevitable - there are very few big disability youtubers, so try giving the smaller ones a chance). Watch interviews where people with that condition explain how their daily life is, how their disability affects it. SBSK is one of the best IMO. Check out AMAs on Reddit. Read personal blogs (you can generally find some by just putting "living with Name of Disability blog" into search). There's a ton of people who sincerely want to help others understand the realities of living with their disability and name their stuff accordingly so that it's easy to find.

At this stage you should have a decent idea of how the disability affects your character both in the technical sense, and in the more practical one.

Try to write out their average daily routine - from how they get up in the morning to when they go to sleep. Try to actively think "how would they do it" - how would they get from their bed and into their wheelchair, how would they dress up, how would they commute to work, how would they communicate with others, how would they get from point A to point B. If you realize that you're suddenly stuck, you now have a specific question ("how to put on pants with no hands", "how do totally blind people use computers", "shower accommodations C5 SCI", whatever) which is much easier to research than just a vague awareness of Not Knowing how your character functions in general. All of these questions have been asked before - newly disabled people will be going through them in their real life, and they use the same search engines and same social media as everyone else.

If you get this far, you're doing quite great! I'd say that this is enough effort to make a good and complex disabled character that's important in the story, though maybe not the POV character.

For a POV character, if you aren't disabled, you probably need a sensitivity reader/consultant.

There are a lot of those in writing spaces already - a lot of disabled people write themselves. If you just drop a "I need a sensitivity reader for XYZ" and use the general writing tags, there's a high chance you will get a response (assuming the XYZ in question isn't something very rare and/or so severe it would prevent someone from using the internet in general).

You can also try the disability's tag (don't get discouraged if it's not used a lot, a lot of people lurk without posting anything themselves) since you're looking for a real person and intending to pay them (very different from abled writers randomly posting their blorbos in disability tags).

Some of the places where you can try looking are r/SensitivityReaders, WritingDiversely, FireflyCreativeWriting, even sites like Fiverr could work. I've also heard some good things about Facebook writing groups, but I don't have any personal experience with them.

You can also always reach out to an association for people with the kind of disability you need - tell them that you are a writer and are looking to pay a sensitivity reader to help you, and they might be able to refer you to someone who would like to do that.

Another thing would be to keep intersectionality in mind - if your character is disabled, but otherwise part of the majority in every other sense (in NA or most of EU: white, rich, Christian, cisgender, straight, non-immigrant), you will have less things to consider than if your character has the same disability but is also a Polynesian transgender immigrant. If any intersectionality is particularly important to what you're writing, you should include that as well (you can also work with multiple sensitivity readers to try and get as close as possible).

My last advice is to only seek out sensitivity readers if you're able to pay them a fair amount for their work. Don't ask people to work for you for free (which is probably obvious, but a ton of fanfic and whump writers on Tumblr seem completely unaware of this).

Technical tips:

For specifically avoiding AI slop, I recommend putting [before:2023] after whatever question you put in, it will filter all results made after 2022, eliminating 99% of AI nonsense (works for images too).

If you're constantly getting a specific kind of wrong result, use [-ThingYouDon'tWant] after the input, it will remove everything that contains it.

If you're not getting a specific result, put the word you need in quotes ["Word You Need"] and it will force only the results who use that specific phrase/term to appear.

So if you're trying to find a blog about living with quadriplegic cerebral palsy as an adult and can't find any relevant searches by putting just that into the search, try ["cerebral palsy" "blog" quadriplegic -parents -spinal -SCI] and you should get more relevant stuff.

That's how I generally try to approach research for writing and I would say I've had good results (including now). Researching is a skill that requires practice unfortunately, at some point you can simply tell when a resource is bad or good since you've looked at so many already.

Follower input is welcome and encouraged :-)

mod Sasza

[lieslab]

Tell me you love me, come back and haunt me

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: og8 X gn reader

Summary: You've spent so long caring for your members and going out of your way to make their lives easier, but without nurturing them all the time, you don't know who you are.

Genre: 9th member AU

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Requestee, I wrote what you asked and listened to too much Coldplay in the process. Taking care of people is important, but let this also be a sign that your mental health is also important and when you're taking care of others, twenty-four-seven, it's easy to forget yourself. Please take a break <3

_ _ _

Spending the first years of adulthood nurturing eight other guys wasn’t something everyone could say they did, but you could. Having been there from the first moment you all debuted, the nine of you experienced everything together. The good, the bad, and all the chaotic moments in between. As time unveiled itself, there was only a single minor problem, you didn’t know who you were outside of that. 

You didn’t think much about it until an interviewer asked you the question mid-interview. “What do you do outside of Stray Kids?” You laughed at the beginning, but as he waited for an answer, your laughter faded, and you were left with silence. What did you do outside the group? What did you bring to life outside of it? 

Your entire identity had been swallowed up by the group for so long. You were one of the organs, helping Stray Kids run. Life was pretty simple. Learn your dance moves, try your best to record the songs, film content, and smile when life feels hard. Put on a brave face at the airport. Remind Chan that he doesn’t have to work himself to the bone. Comfort Seungmin when he’s overusing his voice because he thinks it’s not good enough. 

Tell Felix to stop turning so hard amidst certain dance moves because you’re worried he’ll hurt his back again. Keep Han and Jeongin in line. Remind Hyunjin to get up every morning. Provide snacks to Minho mid-lesson because he studies Japanese so hard, you’re sure his vision is blurred and a headache forms. Make the protein shake for Changbin, preferably right before he gets back from the gym, because you’ll have to go to the studio and he’ll barely have time to shower, let alone make a protein shake. 

Nobody held a gun to your head and made you do anything, you just did it because that’s all you knew. The guys always needed something and you never minded doing things. You didn’t mind being the one to do the dishes. Planning out extra long grocery lists to accommodate everyone because you knew when the other dorm found out you were making something, they’d want some, too. Eating out was too expensive with nine people. Cooking went farther and created leftovers. 

So what did you do outside of Stray Kids? Who were you through the years and years and years of training and debut process? You were a people pleaser. As the oldest member, you had to make sure everyone functioned. They all looked up to you. You weren’t the leader, but staff members reminded you over and over and over again over the years. 

The truth? You didn’t know who you were outside of the group. The guys grew up, but their needs didn’t change. Maybe it was your fault for chasing after them all the time. You never let them morph into their own people. So like needy children, they clung onto you. Perhaps, they took you for granted, not seeing an issue with letting you do so much on your own. 

Both thoughts, you wrestled with them. Was it your fault? Someone else’s? You didn’t know. Not anymore. You just knew that after that interview, you had a lot to reevaluate and do. You liked being part of Stray Kids. You found comfort in the group, but there was always exhaustion. You never thought it was fair, but you didn’t complain about it. 

In that single interview, your perspective flipped on its head. The things you never minded doing, you started to mind. As you dipped your hands in dirty sink water, your jaw clenched. In the living room, Jeongin, Seungmin, and Felix played on some fancy new gaming system. You wanted to be right there, taking in all the action, too. Instead, you were up to your elbows in bubbles and water stained pink from pasta sauce. 

You scrubbed dishes a little harder. Placing them in the dish drainer, thuds sounded, you were more forceful than normal. Ceramic plates clang together. Cups stuck to one another and your annoyance grew. Off to the side, an analog clock ticked. The red second hand ticked and made its way around the clock again and again. 

Time ticked by faster than you wished it would have. Seconds slipped into minutes, minutes into hours, hours to days, and then they slipped into months. Repetitive. A never-ending cycle that never stopped. Time marched forward, but for you, you felt frozen and rooted into a preconceived mold you couldn’t shake. 

How do you let go of your identity and shape yourself into someone new? What if you don’t know who you really are? What happens then? So much life, a thousand paths to pick, every choice unveils a new one, and yet, you feel paralyzed. 

Staring at the foamy suds on your hands, you blinked rapidly as a burn came. As you listened to the jovial cheers and laughter, you felt more and more lost. People were part of something and you weren’t. Why did it feel like being little again? Back when you jumped and grinned, approaching a group of kids, asking to play with them, only to be cast away due to an ailment you couldn’t see.

You finished cleaning the dishes, trying to brush it off, but the feeling still stung. 

~ ~ ~ 

“He took my t-shirt!” 

“He stole my hoodie!” 

Changbin and Jeongin bickered back and forth. Jeongin’s oversized shirt sat wrapped around Changbin’s torso. A dark hoodie sat high above Jeongin’s head, holding it just out of reach. It’d been a chaotic morning and a headache formed behind your left eye. 

Your fingers worked rapidly as you tried to lace up your shoes. Sitting back on the beige couch, you knew you should have kept your dirty shoes out of the living room, but you were in a hurry. “Can the two of you stop arguing and figure it out? Changbin, give him back his shirt. Jeongin, give him back the hoodie.” 

They turned into toddlers, unable to handle simple arguments themselves. Your fingers fiddled, trying to tie your shoes evenly. When you didn’t lace it tight enough, you tugged at the strings, and you tried again. More bickering came from the hall. 

“I don’t have a clean shirt!” 

“Yes, you do!” 

“Nuh-uh!” 

“I just finished the laundry last night,” you called out. “Everything should be cleaned.” 

“Then where are my clothes? They’re not in my dresser, like they usually are.” 

“You probably ate them,” Jeongin grumbled. 

“Get your ass over here, so I can put you in a fucking head-lock!” 

“Suck my-” 

“Enough!” You snapped from the couch. “Can’t the two of you figure it out? We’re going to be late and neither of you are helping!” 

“What am I supposed to do if I can’t find my clothes?” Changbin whined. 

“You’re stretching out the arm holes on my favorite shirt!” 

“Shut up, I’m doing you a favor, pipsqueak.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut and rubbed your temples. “Maybe I put your clothes in Hyunjin’s room instead. I don’t know. I was so tired last night and I-” 

About that time, Hyunjin came out of the bathroom fixing his hair. “Oh, that explains it. I wondered when I got more clothes. Changbin, your stuff is probably shoved on my closet floor. I didn’t bother putting anything away, there’s no time.” 

“MY CLEAN CLOTHES!” He cried out, rushing to Hyunjin’s closet. 

“Changbin, give me back my goddamn shirt, you jackass!” 

You couldn’t listen to any more complaints, so you got up, and left the dorm, slamming the door shut harder than you should have; the entire time, you felt your headache morph into a migraine. 

~ ~ ~ 

“Are we seriously having tacos again?” Seungmin asked. He crept up behind you, staring over your shoulder. In a large pan, ground beef sizzled with seasoning. 

You paused, with the salt container mid-pour. You spun around, so you could face him. “What’s wrong with tacos? I thought you liked tacos.” 

“I do, but-” 

“But, you’ve made them once a week, for the past three weeks,” Minho finished for him. He appeared in the kitchen and tugged open the cupboards. “No offense to you, but it gets a little boring after a while.” 

You didn’t move. Instead, you stared down at the ground beef with slumped shoulders. “I thought you guys were okay with tacos,” you mumbled. “You all said you really liked them.” 

“We do, just not when we have them all the time,” Seungmin responded. He reached over and patted you reassuringly. “You’ll probably have a bunch of leftovers. Minho is going to make something else for us to enjoy.” 

Your heart burst and oozed out the bottom of your stomach. You twisted the knob of the stove to ‘off’ and stepped back. Minho looked over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing?” 

“I’m leaving.” 

“You’re cooking.” 

“Not anymore.” 

“Oh, come on. Don’t be so sensitive. It’s nothing against you, don’t take it personally.” 

“Fuck off, Minho!” You spun around, storming past Seungmin, and disappeared back toward your room. 

The pair listened as you slammed your bedroom door shut. Minho sighed, shut the cupboard door, and approached the meat. “I guess I can use this for something. There’s not much seasoning in it yet, so I’ll make it into something else.” 

“Is it just me, or have they been moodier, lately?” 

“It’s not just you, we’ve all noticed it.” 

“Is something wrong with them?” 

Minho shrugged and picked up the wooden spatula you were using. “I’m not sure, but I’m sure we’ll be told when they’re ready.” 

“You really think so?” 

“At least, I hope so.” 

~ ~ ~ 

When the washer stopped working, it was your final breaking point. You shoved in a load of your own laundry at nearly midnight. After spending so long doing a few previous loads, everything was all set for your own load. You were out of underwear for the next day, so despite your exhaustion, you had to do a load. 

With half-lidded eyes, you shifted the knob to the right settings, added the soap, and pressed the start knob. Instead of starting up like usual, a loud shrill noise started, the agitator jerked, shoving the washer out from the back wall. You yelped and jerked back, grabbing the side of your hip that the edge of the washer hit. 

“What the hell?” You uttered softly. You reached out, shoving the machine back into where it was supposed to go. You knew you should have upgraded to a better washer, but it wasn’t something you thought you needed. Your last fancy washer took a dive and you were given this one by one of the staff members. 

There wasn’t anything wrong with it, they just wanted to modernize. Not everyone liked bending over the edge of a washer, nearly standing on their head, just to get their laundry from around the agitator. You shut the lid and waited, hoping it was just a one time fluke. 

Water spewed over the inside, soaking your laundry soap laced clothes. Your hands stayed on the side of the machine, bracing yourself to hold tight if things went wrong again. All seemed okay, so you spun to leave, and that’s where things went wrong. 

Mid-spin, your foot acquired warm water. You jerked back, glancing down and that’s where the issue came from. A small puddle started to grow from beneath the machine. It drenched your socked feet. You cursed and rushed away to find a towel. 

You reappeared to loud thuds, the machine moved out from the wall again. Heavy thuds, a jerking agitator, and an unfamiliar knocking noise. You tried to jerk open the lid, but the lid locked. You shoved the towel to the floor, trying to soak up as much water as possible, but more water came out. For whatever reason, the machine wouldn’t stop running. 

In a panic, you pressed the knobs, but the machine jerked harder. You yelled again and shoved the machine back. Anger from the past few days blended with frustration over laundry. You were so tired and nothing was going right. None of it was fair. 

In your fit of anger, you jerked your foot up, and slammed it into the front of the washer. A loud cry spilled from your lips and you tripped over the wet towel. With a loud thud, you hit the ground with tears in your eyes. A door swung open and footsteps rushed in your direction. 

Chan appeared with messy hair, black basketball shorts, and a white t-shirt. He blinked, taking in your tears, and soaked shorts. “Hey, what happened? What’s going on?” 

“It’s all stupid,” you weakly uttered. “I’m trying to do my laundry, the washer broke, my underwear are dirty. I’m tired. Nobody ever thanks me for trying to keep things straight around here. I’m sick of all of it.” 

“And now I’m here-” you gestured to the puddle beneath you. “I’m soaked in soapy water that’s full of dirt. I just want to sleep and I-” 

Chan grabbed the edge of the dryer and slowly crouched beside you. “Easy, it’s okay. We don’t have to figure it all out right now. Let’s get you cleaned up and taken care of.” 

“I don’t have any clean underwear, these are soaked.” 

“I’m pretty sure Felix just bought a new pack two days ago. Knowing him, they’re still unopened and brand new. Deep breaths and I’ll go get you a pair. Why don’t you head into the bathroom and get in the shower? I’ll take care of this.” 

Your head hung, defeated that you couldn’t take care of the problem. Exhaustion from the day’s events hung over your head like a storm cloud. You pawed at your puffy eyes and wandered into the bathroom. Chan disappeared out of sight and left you alone. 

In the bathroom, you stripped your dirty clothes. They landed on the bathroom floor with a wet thunk. The scent of laundry soap stuck to your shorts. You felt the liquid against your legs and it made you itch. In the shower, you turned the water warm and let it relax your muscles. 

A few minutes later, a gentle knock pulled you from your worries. You wiped water from your face and turned off the water. “Come in.” 

The door creaked open to reveal Chan. You remained covered by the curtain. “Just like I predicted, Felix didn’t touch them. I grabbed you a few pairs. We’ll worry about the rest of it tomorrow. Don’t worry about the washer. If you need clothes for tomorrow, you can borrow mine. Here’s a pair of your pajamas.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Do you need anything else? A cup of tea before bed? A midnight snack?” 

“I don’t think so.” 

“If you need anything, you know where to find me.” 

“Thanks, Chan.” 

“No worries. Sleep tight.” 

“You, too.” 

He disappeared, leaving you alone with the sound of water dripping from your naked body. You reached back, gently massaging your shoulders, and sucked in a deep breath. You really wanted a hug, but for now, you’d just keep that to yourself. 

~ ~ ~ 

The next morning, you woke up to everyone sitting scattered around the living room. You weren’t sure if you were dreaming, or not. When you squinted for a third time, Han raised an eyebrow. “Can you see?” 

 “Why are you all here?” 

“Because we need to talk,” Chan piped up. 

“About?” 

The guys all glanced at each other, but Felix was the first to break the silence. “We’re sorry. We rely on you for a lot of things and-” 

“We’re ungrateful,” Hyunjin added. “We didn’t realize it until Chan woke us up this morning. We’ve grown so used to you doing things for us, we’ve taken advantage of your kindness.” 

“And from now on, if you still want to cook us food, we’ll eat it without complaints,” Minho said. 

Seungmin nodded, “not a single one.” 

You stared at them, letting your eyes linger. “Where’s Changbin?” 

“Right here! I was folding your laundry. Chan and I went to the laundromat earlier this morning, so we could clean your clothes.” He appeared in the living room with a laundry basket full of folded clothes. 

“And don’t worry about the washer, we already ordered a new one,” Chan smiled. Both of his dimples poked out, causing your heart to melt. 

“But in all seriousness, we’re going to try and be better and you won’t have to do things alone like laundry, dishes, cooking and cleaning and…” Jeongin frowned. “Now that I say it all out loud, you really do sound like Cinderella.” 

A weak smile appeared on your face. “You guys don’t have to apologize for things. It’s not your fault I take on too many responsibilities.”��

“But you shouldn’t have to suffer exhaustion alone.” 

Han stood up, slowly approaching you. “Just as you’re there for us, we want to be there for you as well. You’ve taken care of us for so long, we should be taking care of you, too.” 

“You all really know how to hit me right in the feels before eight in the morning.” 

“Group hug?” Felix offered. 

You laughed and nodded, letting your arms expand towards them. He squealed and rushed towards you, wrapping you in a hug. “Have I ever told you that you’re my favorite member?” 

“They can’t be your favorite member, I folded the laundry! They’re my favorite member!” 

“Sucks for both of you,” Minho came closer, trying to pry between Changbin and Felix, “neither of you can be their favorite member. That spot’s reserved for me.”

“Nuh-uh!” 

“You wish, jackass.” Seungmin grabbed the back of his shirt, tugging him back. He slid into the spot instead, nearly knocking you over.

“Kim fucking Seungmin!” 

“Whoops.” 

As the guys all bickered, trying to hug you tighter, you glanced up. Across the way, Chan looked at you with a quiet fondness. Your eyes met his and you could only mouth one thing, ‘thank you.’ 

He responded by coming over with a grin, wrapping his arms around as many members as he could, and squeezing everyone tightly; you included. 

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