#and will always effect how you react to things

[dissolvedprincess]

imagine just having the freedom to have your hands all over frank castle. idk what it is but lately I've been really into tipsy!reader and frank, but just coming home from being out and him being in just a pair of sweats, being able to kiss and rub and trace every scar, every hair, HIS NOOOOOOSE. I fear we as a people don't talk about his nose enough it's genuinely perfection in my eyes. just that, being all pretty for frank while you get him worked up. depending on the severity of your intoxication he may or may not let it go further, also depends on how bad you're teasing him🤭

Thank you for this super fun request dear anon! This one turned out to be a favorite of mine and i hope i did your vision justice. Enjoy!!

Nobody but you

CW : 18+, female reader, intoxication, unprotected pinv, fluff, established relationship

(Not proofread)

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶

These fucking heels were killing you.

The room was spinning and you couldn’t find your goddamn keys. “Son of a bitch…” Your acrylic nails made it more difficult for your hands to effectively rummage around your purse. You start to frantically dig harder only to quickly pause as Frank’s voice echoed in the back of your head, “Hey come on— i’ll pay ‘em off for you. It’s nothing, i like doing this for you.”

The interruption granted you a moment of sobriety and it proved to be effective when your fingers curled around a familiar shape. “Hell yeah.”

You step inside to find the already dark apartment with only one source of illumination from the side of the couch; cascading the room with a dim, yellow light. Once the door closed, you brace your back on it and let out a relieved breath.

“I’m homee babyyy!” You call out, knowing Frank would stay up as long as he needs to make sure you arrive home safe from your bi-weekly hang outs with your friends. Though the intent on having a smooth arrival was interrupted by a shooting pain that went up your leg. “Ow! Fuck! Stupid fucking-“

“Hey sweetheart— whole lotta cursing there! You good?” Frank’s voice echoed from somewhere inside the apartment.

“My heels! Ugh. They’re hurting me.” You crouch down to fumble with the straps that was tightly wrapped around your ankle. “Pleasee God just this one time….gimme a break.” You whined.

“Need any help?”

“Nope!” You let out with an over exaggerated ‘P’.

After another failed attempt, you crumbled to sit on the floor in exhaustion, causing a small thud to echo in the room. As if a loyal dog, the noise quickly beckoned Frank’s attention away from his book, and before you could struggle by yourself further, you hear him padding towards you. Like clockwork.

Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, but you couldn’t deny the fact that you feel a spark of arousal in the pit of your stomach at the sight of him crouching in front of you. Frank looked freshly showered and he smelled so nice. The grey sweatpants he had on has always been your favorite. Although tempting, you could never tell him that; not when you could freely ogle at his bulge without him knowing.

Your eyes trailed from his hands to his flexing arms, working to gently take off your heels. He looked strong and untouchable in the white wife beater. The shape of it further emphasizing his prominent muscles.

“Frank…baby you don’t need to be doing all this.” You affectionately stroked the back of his hand with your palm.

“Quiet.” He gruffed. “I like-“

“Doing this for you.” You finish for him.

Frank’s dark eyes flicked briefly to meet yours in acknowledgment and he tried his best to downplay the smile that blossomed. “That’s right.”

“Soooo sweet, my Frankie.” You mumbled as your fingers raked through his cropped hair. “So handsome too.” He stiffened slightly as you sneaked the line in.

Frank doesn’t always react outwardly to things, he prefers to keep things close; never to let it be seen by anyone. Unfortunately for him, you make it difficult for him to do so. Especially when you make him all flustered and shy, like molten butter under the sun.

Frank cleared his throat as he placed your heels back on the shoe rack. “S’nothing.” You replied with a hum.

“Tell me what hurts.”

“I think my right leg’s crampin’ babe.” He then went to sit and pulled your leg over his lap. His hands were gentle as they massaged the tender area, but you still winced at his touch. “Let me know if i’m goin’ too hard.”

“No no, it’s good. Feels really good baby.”

You lean back on your hand and chased after his face with the other. Thumb coming up to swipe over a scar that’s formed on his cheek.

His hands trailed from your calf to your thighs, straightening out and relaxing your muscles. Frank wasn’t trying to start anything and you knew that. But how can you not get aroused as he inches to your upper thigh.

“Y’wanna know something babe?” You start, mind itching to distract yourself from his touch.

“What?”

“They talked my ear off about their shitty boyfriends, aaalll night. Apparently, all of ‘em hate listening to their girls—“ You pause to curse as he pressed on a tender spot.

“But they looove to just sit on their asses and fuck—they’re selfish pricks! Especially in bed. It’s a shame to hear my girls claim that there’s just no more proper men left in the world.” You frowned. Frank loves it when you go off on your drunken chatter.

“That so?” His tone amused.

You couldn’t stop the drunken giggle that promptly escaped, “Yep, and duh of course i disagreed. I mean, look at you!” You exclaimed with a roll of your eyes, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re like, the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Before you could catch Frank’s flustered reaction, “Also, do you remember Mia?”

He nodded, fingers still working their magic on your leg.

“She- fuck.” You held another laugh before continuing, “She swears the guy she’s dating has the smallest, tiniest micro dick. But- but, listen to this yeah.” You ramble as you waved your pointer finger to prove a point.

Frank smiled as he listened to you intently.

“They haven’t fucked yet. But she swears it cuz he has the skinniest nose she’s ever seen on a guy! Like isn’t that soo crazy!?”

“Wouldn’t know much about that sweetheart.” He then breathed out a small laugh.

In response, you put a hand on your chest and scoffed, face twisting in confusion, “Oh? Well well welllll Frankie, i beg to differ my love.”

Cocking a brow in amusement he threw a look your way and chuckled.

You narrowed your eyes, “Can you guess what she said next?”

He stopped moving his hands and rested them on your thigh instead, softly stroking up and down.

“Nope.” He uttered.

“How lucky i am that i have a boyfriend with a decent sized nose, that technically leans towards the bigger side.” You continue with a smug expression plastered on your face.

The both of you burst into laughter as you finished your story. Your heart ached as you watched him openly laugh, body shaking and struggling to contain himself. It’s a rare occurrence. Which is why you’re savoring every moment of it now. A small time away from the darkness that digs its claws into him often.

Bottom lip captured between your teeth, you smiled at him as your joined laughter naturally dies down. He leaned his head on the wall and threw you another look with a smile on his face. Both your eyes meeting to seemingly be stuck in a trance; silently communicating.

“Shit. All this talk about noses got me feeling horny.” You joked, body slowly shuffling to get on top of him and he welcomes it. His broad palm settled on your hips, affection fogging up his features. “I’m glad to hear my nose got you all worked up.” He shoots back with a sly smirk.

You giggled again before leaning in to lick the seam of his lips. He responds by sucking your tongue into his mouth; slowly. Equally savoring your taste. The kisses quickly deepened and the gentleness seemed to fade as soon as it started.

Your hips start to slowly move in his hold, testing the waters still. Eager to find out how far he’s willing to go. Frank’s answer was apparent as he helped you ground your pussy harder, pulling and pushing you along the length of his cock. The glide made easier by your own arousal that was starting to seep out of your panties.

“I’m so fucking horny Frank.” You mumble into his mouth. “I want you to fuck me.” Moaning softly against his mouth as you felt the head of his dick push against your clothed clit just right. He mindlessly start to massage your ass, leading your legs to wrap around his hips. He parts from you and leans back to voice out, “Hold on to me.”

He stood up and walks over to the couch, with you in his arms. You couldn’t help but suck dark marks into his neck as he’s walking. Teasing bites trace up to nibble on his lobe.

You expected him to dump you into the couch and fuck you into it. But you were pleasantly surprised to find him turning to fall backwards into it. The drop jostled your body slightly, causing you to press against his bulge. You rose up and threaded your fingers under the edge of your short dress and peeled it over your head. Leaving you bare in just your soaked panties.

Frank licked his lips and swiped a thumb over your pebbled nipple. “No bra tonight huh?” You feel his cock twitch under you.

You respond with a shake of your head, “Nuh uh. Best decision ever i think.”

“So beautiful.” He whispered and before you could say anything else. Frank cupped your breast and gave it a soft squeeze, running his thumb over a nipple, giving it a gentle pull. His lips suddenly came up to wrap around the other. You whimper when you feel him swirl his tongue around it with the occasional nibble.

Your cunt ached for more friction, so you plant your hands on his shoulders and you continue to grind back and forth on his erection.

Frank pulls off you with a pop to groan. Your teasing movements felt like torture, not fully satisfying. He could feel your wetness start to seep through his sweatpants. He tightened his grip around your hip to stop your grinding.

“Hold on sweetheart. Get up on your knees for a sec.”

You whimper and complained, “But you feel too good.”

“Do you want my dick in you or not?” He challenged, his own patience is wearing thin.

So you obliged. Struggling a bit to hover above him.

Frank got up slightly to push his sweatpants down. Not all the way, just enough to get his dick out, and you almost drooled at the sight.

He wasn’t wearing any underwear.

You let out a shaky breath as he thumbed your panties to the side; exposing your cunt to the cold air. Fingers slipping between your folds, feeling your wetness.

“Fuck baby. You weren’t lyin’ huh.” He then begins to push a finger into you, slowly dragging it in and out. Feeling out your walls and you bit your lip to muffle your noises as he pushed in a second finger. Leaving room for the slick noises of Frank fingering you to be heard.

“Shit.”

Frank shuffled closer and sucked your nipple into his mouth again, briefly this time; opting to lick up your neck instead. Softly nipping to leave his own set of marks.

“Frankie….” You whine, hand coming up to cradle his head.

His fingers were still thrusting rhythmically inside you, expertly causing you to arch further into his touch. But it wasn’t what you wanted.

“Frankieeee…Come on, put it in already. Please.” You attempt to pull off his fingers but his hand swiftly shot up to hold on to your waist as he jack hammered his fingers inside you.

“Fuck!” You yelp. His dick was so close, it was right there. Taunting you in all its glory.

He laid back to take your form in. “Not yet.” He growled.

“I want you to come for me once first.”

You threw your head back as you crumbled. He fucked his fingers into you harsher, palm now slapping against your swollen clit.

“Fffffuckk!” Your eyes roll back as you felt yourself cumming, giving yourself fully to the sensation. His fingers slow a bit as your muscles convulsed, giving you a semblance of a break.

“Atta girl.” He praised.

You closed your eyes and took ragged breaths as you came down from your high. Mouth still open to release soft noises of satisfaction.

Though your moment of rest was short lived. Your eyes shot open at the sound of something ripping.

“Frank!”

He threw what remained of your panties to somewhere around the room and was quick to grab hold of his dick.

“Breathe sweetheart.” He sighed out before pushing his whole girth inside of you in one swoop.

The stretch was imposing, but it was nothing you haven’t dealt with before.

With no time to waste, Frank starts to move in and out of your slick pussy and you tighten around him. Sucking him in, until his tip is lodged against your cervix. Always so deep in this position.

You collapsed into his chest weakly, body no longer strong enough to hold yourself up, and all you could do was take.

“Mmmh..Yesyesyes..fuuuuckkk..yesbaby. So fucking good.” You babble.

Frank fucked up into you just like you wanted, unforgiving and precise. Bottoming out at an angle that makes your stomach clench. His hands are suddenly on your ass to give it a few slaps. He groaned as he felt your cunt flutter around him from the act.

“Y’like that?”

You weakly nod as your drool seeps into his shirt.

He pounds into you harder now, the noises getting wetter, sloppier and stickier. With sweat running down his forehead from the exertion. So you aid him in his efforts to take you both to the peak and fucked back onto his dick to the best of your abilities. You’re sobbing, tears flowing out from the mind-melting pleasure.

You then feel his thrust start to falter. So you press into him, clawing at his shoulders, trembling.

“I’m gonna fucking cum.” He groaned into your ear and you swear the sound of him turns you on even more.

“Cum inside, fill me up. Please!”

You couldn’t tell how hard you were screaming. It felt like you lost control of your body, your voice, everything. It was all his to control, you had no say in anything.

With a final thrust of his hips, you reach your high. White sparks burst behind your lids as you came all over him. Frank kept his hand on your ass as he reached his own climax. Squeezing them roughly to make sure you don’t move a muscle as he pumped his cum inside you. Getting it as deep as it possibly could. Moaning as your cunt milked him dry.

To no surprise, his come was slipping down your thighs, your cunt already stuffed too full. Inconveniently dripping to his sweatpants as well.

“Damn. You’re getting me wet all over sweetheart.” He teased you fondly. Pushing you off his chest gently to take off his drooled-up shirt and letting you slump on his chest again now that he’s bare.

“M’sorry.” You mumble. “Can’t move.”

You felt a rumble in his chest as he chuckled deeply. “It’s okay baby. You’re good where you are.” He plants a kiss on your forehead as he wrapped his arms around you.

It took all of your strength to look up at him, “You make me so happy y’know that?” You murmured.

He looked down and his eyes soften at the sight of you. The corners of his mouth tipped upward at your statement.

“You do so much for me and i can only hope that i’m the same kind of person for you as well Frank.”

A heavy sigh flowed from him before he leaned over to kiss you.

“You’re much more than that to me sweetheart.”

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶

Pulled a goddamn all nighter to finish this one because it kept screaming and tugging at me to complete for you guys. I seriously don’t know if anything makes sense, will be checking everything again once i finish my morning run. Oh,fun fact the nose conversation was inspired by a real conversation that me and my friend had lmao, i thought it was hilarious and so on theme.

Anyway,thank you so much for reading! You guys make me so happy and remember that likes, comments, reblogs make me even more so!

[clouddyyneptune]

Waiting for Now (pt 2).

Summary: Joe makes sure he’s home early enough this time to hopefully catch you before you’re asleep, but he is pleasantly surprised to see an invitation waiting for him.

warnings: somnophilia, joe being joe, cunnilingus, oral (f receiving), implications of intercourse, fingering, and pet names.

(please let me know if you guys want a pt. 3!)

ever since joe came home one night to you asleep in bed, he couldn’t stop thinking about all the things he wanted to do to you in your sleep. he always liked to admire you as you slept. not in a weird way, no, of course not, but in a loving way.

you were such a breath of fresh air, and he could confidently say that seeing you after a long day at Mooney’s could make him forget about every awkward conversation at the counter.

joe purposely made sure he got out of work sooner than later, not wanting to risk the mistake he made last time.

joe made it home and locked the door behind him. the lights were already off, besides for the kitchen light, which you always left on for him when he got home late. he wasted no time kicking off his shoes, which then led to him unbuttoning his shirt while he made his way into the bedroom.

you were fast asleep, wearing one of joe’s crewnecks. you looked so beautiful, tangled up in the sheets of the bed, your skin peeking out from underneath. he wanted to wait a second more, to stay where he was and admire you for a bit longer, but his eyes widened slightly when he realized you hadn’t been wearing any pants. had you been waiting for him? did you purposefully go to bed knowing joe would see you like this? the thought of it made joe’s slacks feel tight around his thighs, his cock hardening. the effect you had on him drove him crazy.

quietly, joe knelt down on the bed, watching you as you made a small adjustment. he didn’t want to wake you, not yet, at least.

joe then began to slip off his shirt, placing it on the bed before he then leaned down to lightly tug on the sheets you were laying underneath. with little to no movement coming from you, joe pulled away the covers off the lower half of your body before he sighed, contempt as his eyes met your nakedness. not only did you not have pants on, but you had no panties either. with you being utterly bare beneath him, joe’s cock throbbed, arousal apparent. the moonlight’s gleam made you look ethereal, as though you were twinkling before him.

while your body adjusted to the change in temperature, you hadn’t woken up, only a small sigh escaping from your lips. this gave joe the invitation to continue. carefully, he maneuvered himself so his head rested inches away from your thigh, where his eyes then focused on your pussy. with a gentle touch, his hand moved to rest on your thigh, spreading your legs ever so slightly before he pressed a chaste kiss to your clit. you stirred in your sleep, your body reacting to the touch as your eyebrows drew together.

still asleep, but on the verge of waking up, joe licked a broad stripe up the folds of your pussy. confusion and pleasure arose in your body, as you now slowly opened your eyes to see joe between your thighs, a smile flashing across his face before he then wrapped his mouth around your clit, sucking.

your mouth opened, gasping as you quickly reached for him, for anything, as his soft lips continued to suck your clit. his hand on your thigh gave you a comforting squeeze.

“joe!” you moaned, thighs spreading wide for him as your hands now found their place on his head, fingers curling into his hair. “how… what..?” you lazily questioned, followed by a guttural moan escaping you without warning.

joe pulled away from you, his lips detaching from your clit as he quickly shushed you, “it’s okay baby, no questions needed. just focus on cumming for me.” joe then leaned down to press his nose up against your clit, his tongue swiping over your entrance. he tasted your arousal on his tongue, sending a message straight to his cock which continued to throb in the confinements of his slacks.

your body began to stir in bed, your back arching as your nipples peaked against the fabric of joe’s crewneck. your thighs trembled as joe looked up at you with those dark eyes of his, his head coming up from between your thighs before his fingers claimed the space. two of fingers collected your wetness, all while joe then began to sit up and slip his hand behind your neck, holding you so you could take his fingers.

“you look so pretty like this, honey.” he would comment, his lips connecting with yours as he enveloped you in a passionate kiss. the lingering taste of your arousal flooding your tastebuds. you couldn’t help but moan into him, his warmth comforting you as he then began to slide his fingers into your pussy.

it had been a while for you, but the stretch was delightful, and joe looked at you while you became accustomed to the intrusion. “there you go, baby, such a good girl for me,” he leaned down to place a kiss along your neckline, inhaling your aroma before his fingers began to move inside you, curling in just the right way.

joe knew everything about you, especially what it was you liked in the bedroom. he had no problem getting you to climax, which was often a struggle with others you had been with before. sex with him was always special, and joe knew that by the way you were unfolding before him, fingers curling in and out of you at a pace that was just enough to keep you teetering on the edge. “joe, i’m gonna cum, oh god yes,” you breathed, grasping onto his bicep. “please please please please.”

that familiar feeling growing inside you continued to grow as joe now moved his fingers faster. “cum, baby. i know you can.” he cooed, all while his thumb pressed to your clit, the last thing you needed to push you over the edge.

your eyes squeezed shut as your climax flooded your body, and joe was there to hold you while he helped usher you through your high. his fingers never stopped moving inside you, not until you squirmed, which signaled to him that you were overstimulated.

a sigh escaped your lips as you looked at joe, his pupils dilating as he gave you a warm smile. “good morning, baby.” he whispered, before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. you couldn’t help but smile, laughing with him. “it can’t be morning yet, silly. we still have the rest of the night.” you slung your arm around him, pulling him close to you as his nose brushed yours.

“indeed, we still have the rest of the night.” joe stated, looking over to the clock that read 11:43pm.

his erection still pressed against his slacks, and you hadn’t noticed the light throbbing against your thigh until now.

a sly smile appeared on your face, heat rising to joe’s cheeks as you placed your palm against his hard cock. “i didn’t know you had a thing for waking me up like that.” your hand squeezed the outline of his print, mischief in your eyes as you pressed a kiss to his lips, followed by another on his cheek. “you can wake me up like that anytime. i bet you were thinking about it all day at work, isn’t that right?” it was your turn to give him attention, and joe couldn’t help but lean into you, a strained groan escaping him. “been thinking about that ever since last week, baby,” he whispered, eyes fluttering closed.

before the sleepiness began to take over you, you lightly nudged joe over onto his back before claiming your place on his lap, straddling him. he smiled, eyes narrowing at your determination. “i guess it would only be reasonable that we make use of the rest of the night.” his erection pressed into your core, the texture of his slacks giving you just enough friction to grind against him.

joe seemed to ponder the matter in his head, his finger tapping at the corner of his mouth playfully. “why, i don’t think that’s a bad idea at all…”

[ilikekidsshows]

Whats with Marinette stans get so defensive and say the opposite of what cause and effect with consequences of her actions

Like I'll see someone say "Adrian should break up with Marinette after he knows the truth" and a Marinette stan would say "she's already feeling guilty why can't that be enough for you people? She'll loss her memories and give up Guardianship isn't that enough 🤬" like that opposite of consequences for her actions I really don't get these fans

like Adrian has right to break up with his gf (I'm still surprised they're together in the first place it generally makes no sense to me they won't last a year)

---

We’re just cruel and heartless for not considering Marinette's regret and her making herself upset as enough of a consequence for all of her actions. She suffers! She cries and throws up! She calls herself the worst ever and a villain! Clearly that means she's paid her penance like a good little Christian and anything more would just be punishing her needlessly.

No, but, I actually can't stress this enough that, against common ideas, a lot of offshoots of the Christian faith judge a person's morality not on their ability to be flawless and not sin but their ability to feel remorse and repent after having sinned. This, on its own, sounds like a good, nuanced take on morality because no human is flawless and incapable of hurting someone even a bit. However, in some variants of Christianity, “repentance” literally just means suffering in some way because you're not morally pure, and that suffering will make you morally pure. The most extreme version of this ideology is whipping yourself with a scourge called a discipline in literal self-flagellation.

Basically, a lot of cultures hold up a belief that you can pay for your misdeeds by suffering and that suffering means you’ve either done something to deserve it or are gathering good morality to get a stroke of good luck down the line. Most people are surprised when they learn you can get a chronic illness or become disabled without doing anything wrong, you're just born with a gene that leads to it. The crime, suffering and reward don't even have to directly correlate because this belief also includes a belief in some kind of cosmic scale that will measure out retribution and rewards accordingly.

“What does this have to do with Miraculous and Marinette?” you may ask and I’ll say that a lot of western media is culturally Christian, even as it doesn't preach Christianity to the viewer. This means a piece of media will model its morality on Christian concepts or will depict Christian holidays. Miraculous has two Christmas-themed episodes that revolve around Santa Claus, one of the most Christian things there is without going into actual doctrine. So, Miraculous the show can also maintain other kinds of culturally Christian ideas. The show itself treats Marinette making herself suffer as suitable penance for her actions. She is always instantly forgiven or vindicated when she verbally flagellates herself.

I can't know for sure that the Miraculous writers are Christian, but it's likely, and France, at least, is culturally Christian. Similarly, a lot of fans online are, at least, culturally Christian. This feeds into the discourse of what can be considered “just” consequences for Marinette. Those who think her feeling bad, her guilt and suffering, is enough of a consequence will see any take about how the other characters should reasonably react or how they should look after themselves, even if it means going against Marinette's wishes, as us wishing for Marinette to be punished, for the other characters to take revenge. To the people who think Marinette making herself feel bad means she has repented, Adrien breaking up with her to keep himself safe would be cruel, punishing her for a crime she already paid for with her tears of remorse.

The thing about actual relationships instead of mere ideology, however, is that Marinette feeling guilty doesn't help any of the people she's hurt, because that guilt will not stop her from doing it more. She's in absolute agony over her guilt for gaslighting Adrien, but she's still doing it, and will probably do it for the whole season at least. That doesn't help Adrien, who is being actively victimized at this very moment. It doesn't help the fact that he provably can't trust Marinette. Marinette feeling guilty doesn't fix that, because feeling guilty alone can't fix anything.

Taking accountability doesn't mean just feeling guilty or doing some penance. It means securing the safety and comfort of your victims, keeping them from further harm, not assuring yourself and others that you're still a good person because you feel bad enough for your moral failures. There is a reason “catholic guilt” isn’t used in a very complementary manner, because it doesn’t actually accomplish anything good by itself. The perpetrator feeling bad doesn’t do anything for their victims and no one who feels themselves irredeemable is going to try to improve.

[hopecorps]

the thing about buck "making everything about himself" is not Exactly True (and also not Exactly Untrue) but it IS a crazy look into eddie's psyche

i'm seeing a lot of people saying that buck doesn't make everything about himself, so it's frustrating to see eddie throw this in his face basically every time they have a fight. it feels cruel and unfair. kicking the man while he's down bc buck is already torturing himself by the time eddie gets to him.

and i wanna start by saying that i don't think buck is selfish. but i do think that he fails a lot when he tries to compartmentalize or ignore how he feels. he grew up unseen by his family and desperate to be loved. rejection is scary for him, even the thought of it. and while eddie's never outright rejected him, they've had the most consistent conflict out of any of his relationships because they mean so much to each other, so this character trait which is understandable is often hightened specifically with eddie, especially this past season

and i think this pisses eddie off in particular because he knows almost intrinsically how to push his feelings down and ignore them. he is guilty all the time and views taking any kind of care of himself as a moral failing. any indulgence is a sin.

AND he doesn't even really apply this logic to others long-term. whenever he's been frustrated about this or accused buck of being selfish there's always a moment when it's obvious he's 1. majorly deflecting 2. immediately proven wrong or 3. realized he was wrong and apologized.

so, when buck's emotions take over and he's acting from a place of fear, to EDDIE it reads as making it all about himself. to him, his biggest takeaway is that buck cannot think pragmatically. which IS TRUE. and it frustrates him because eddie is always always thinking about the consequences of his emotions!! to a FAULT by the way, because he never actually lets himself fully process his grief. it's why the whole kim storyline happened: he never got past the anger and grief of losing shannon because he was so worried about chris, when realistically what chris needed was for eddie to think about his own needs for once instead of assuming what other people need from him. but that's a really tough habit to break

longer meta below, i had a lot to say:

the three times we see eddie say this are during the lawsuit, during the fight before eddie moves to texas, and when eddie gets the job offer in el paso

during the lawsuit buck sues the department because he wants his job back and he is convinced that this is the only way he will get it. remember that growing up the only time he ever received love from his parents was after getting hurt. getting hurt and bobby reacting with concern instead of coddling made buck lash out. he can't think about how it will effect everyone else because he is so afraid of losing them and is convinced it's the only thing that will help.

and eddie NEEDS him. it's the first time in their relationship where eddie needed buck and he wasn't there. eddie is hurt and cutting and a little mean and in his eyes buck IS being selfish because eddie would never do something like that. and well duh. he's the runner

when eddie is moving to texas and buck handles it poorly he gets MAD. buck don't you realize i dont want to do this EITHER. buck how can you be upset about this i need you to be supportive because i cannot change my mind. i cannot comfort you because this also hurts me. buck you cannot think of this as me abandoning you because i dont WANT to but i HAVE to. buck why are you making this decision that i was FORCED to make about YOU. buck what about ME.

and of course. buck had processed it and thought about that and came back with the solution: i'm your renter. and it knocks eddie on his ass.

so then it comes to this last time: buck is upset about bobby's death, and he's deflecting. eddie gets a job offer and everyone knows that buck is going to be upset about it. which he would be. he already is.

bobby dies and some of his last words are telling buck that he can hold down the fort and eddie comes back for a couple of weeks and buck does his little assessment and determines that eddie is doing fine and that he doesn't have to worry about him. but eddie is going to leave again and leave For Good this time.

this fight is about the job offer, sure, and it's about buck's angst and grief and how he can't deal with it properly because bobby gave him a Job to do, and it's not about any of that at all.

eddie was grieving all by himself. he wanted buck to be there with him. he wanted buck to ASK. buck was so caught up in making sure everyone was okay and swimming in his own grief that he couldnt even see that eddie was drowning too. he scores his grief a 12 and sends him on his way.

so eddie says the thing that cuts deep because in these intense moments where he's frustrated and hurt and upset he STILL cannot understand why buck can't just stuff his feelings into a box the way eddie does. irrationally, he wanted the one thing that buck couldn't give him in that moment. that's why he apologizes later, because he knows he's wrong, and that he says things that hurt. he knows buck and he knows what buck carries and what kills him. he knows what bobby meant to him. it wasn't even about that!!!

i don't think that buck makes everything about himself. and i don't even think that eddie thinks he does either.

i think that eddie KNOWS that buck struggles with processing his own emotions enough to see how it effects other people. eddie doesnt process them either, but he Does stuff them down because how he effects other people is his top priority. i think this trait in buck really annoys him but i think it is also one of his favorite parts of buck and why they get along so well. buck is earnest and honest and open and eddie likes to read him. but i think that eddie wants to be read right back, and sometimes buck is just not able to do that.

i don't think that either of them were wrong in this argument. to be fair neither of them were right either, they were just both hurting.

and to be clear i think the assertion that eddie was being in any way abusive (emotionally or physically) is a gross (meaning complete and also frankly disgusting) misunderstanding of not only eddie's entire character but also buck's. they're honestly just two people who need each other and struggle with their emotions enough to really see eye to eye all the time. BECAUSE of the love they have for each other

[florenceandthejellybean]

Realising that no matter what you do you're still EXACTLY who your parents raised has gotta be one of the most defeating things in the world.

[tj-crochets]

Lately I'd been wondering if maybe my asthma was doing so much better since I stopped living in a place with fire season that I could talk to my doc about stopping my asthma meds, but uh. Accidentally tested that? My maintenance inhaler was empty for at least a day, possibly more, before I realized so I was using it but getting no meds and it turns out I was improved because my maintenance meds were working, so I started coughing again. Not super bad, but like if I had a nickel for every time I've accidentally ran a double-blind trial* on myself I'd have two nickels, and that's weird, right? *the other time was when I figured out I'm allergic to acetic acid, because I'd checked the ingredients of the individual serving of a pre-made meal from a store and it was fine, but I reacted to the family meal portion of it (after not checking it, assuming the ingredients would be the same), and the only thing different was the acetic acid.

[skrunksthatwunk]

"i'm not disabled" followed immediately by "i've got bad knees and a bad back" is certainly something to read 🤨 you know it doesn't have to be cripling for it to count, right...? it's not normal to be in pain after 15 minutes of standing. ableds can stand for, like, an hour at a time before they need to sit.

i know! i appreciate the concern, but i uh. dunno lol. genuinely i don't know. but i included the afaik ("i'm not disabled afaik" was the original phrase, though i'm not like mad at you for excluding it or anything) because i'm well aware that it's a possibility. it's hard to explain but there's a lot of little things that don't add up to much but are like. noticeable. like i would prefer to do most things sitting, if i could, as a matter of comfort. it would be easier for me. and walking isn't as bad as just standing. i've never been great at taking care of my body, and this has only gotten worse with time. it's hard for me to know what i should read as necessity and what i should read as preference, and how much weight to put on said preferences. like you said, i know it doesn't need to be "if i don't sit down i'm going to collapse" or anything, but where to draw that line between Definitely A Medical Thing That Affects Me More Than Other People and.. not that, i'm not sure. i kinda just thought i was a persistently slightly tired and low energy person, but it doesn't seem bad enough to be chronic fatigue, so...? is it related to the half-diagnosed. idk it's complicated depression (and yes in hindsight i probably should've counted that as disabling but whatever)? idk it's not a rabbit hole i've explored much at all is my point. but i know it's there and uh i guess this was sort of validating in a way anon so.. yeah? yeah👍

[himblebo]

I’m just. So interested in the relationship between grief and trauma and arousal and anger.

[snekdood]

ik we talk about "karma" in the sense of "whatever you do will come back to bite you", but in a more realistic sense it just means action. every action has a reaction, etc. which is why its incorrect to blame your god/gods for the way you're mistreated in life bc 1. everyone has free-will and 2. they dont have control over the wheel of karma (at least not in hinduism), so when you're mistreated, you shouldn't ask "what have I done to accrue karma in the form of mistreatment" you should ask "why do these people suck so much", lol. it's not your god/gods punishing you, its other people exercising their free will and choosing to use it in a way that makes them suck as human beings 🤷 dont let people get off the hook by blaming the gods or some sort of nebulous "karma" you cant pin down, blame the people for being pieces of shits, dont let them think they're not actors in this and are just dutifully mistreating you on behalf of the laws of karma, bc they aren't, thats not how karma fucking works.

[satori-runa]

—Come and love me

Summary: Mr.Crawling has different ways to love you.

Tags: Smut, Praise Kink, Cockwarming, Body Worship, Mutual Mastubation, Female reader, fluff, Spoilers for ENDING 04

Words: 1,8k

MDNI, ADULT CONTENT UNDER CUT

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Mr. Crawling is someone who craves the comfort of human touch, but he’s always considerate of your boundaries. No matter how much he yearns for affection, he puts your comfort first, often suppressing his own desires to ensure you’re at ease.

Still, he can’t help but get a bit whiny when you return after a long day outside. On the days when you ask him to stay home, he becomes lonely and restless, waiting impatiently for you. He often lies on your bed with his head nestled on your pillow, inhaling your scent to soothe himself until he hears your footsteps approaching the front door.

The moment you step inside and praise him for being well-behaved, he lights up completely. Mr. Crawling has a serious praise kink, and it’s evident. Mr. Crawling is practically addicted to your praise; it’s like his own personal drug. The second you open your mouth and let a sweet, honeyed word slip out, he’s already trembling with delight. He reacts instantly, a visible shiver of pleasure rolling through his body, mouth going wide as he drinks in every syllable. It’s not just about the words themselves but the way you say them—soft and genuine, like you really mean it. It makes him feel so loved, so needed.

He can’t hide how badly he wants it, how desperate he is for your approval. Even the smallest bit of praise, like a simple "Good boy," can have him biting his lip, his breath hitching as if you’ve touched him in the most intimate way. The effect is almost comical; his face flushes, and he looks like he’s on cloud nine, squirming slightly like he can’t quite contain himself. He craves it so deeply that he actively seeks it out, doing whatever he can to earn your compliments. Of course he deserves a treat for his good behavior.

The treat he prefers most is one he chose himself. Nothing satisfies him more than when you settle into his lap and cockwarm him, taking him by surprise as you sink down onto his length. The sudden feeling of you enveloping him never fails to draw out a choked gasp, his hips twitching up instinctively as he tries to control himself. He loves this position more than anything—the closeness, the intimacy of it. He holds you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded, his arms wrapped tightly around you, clinging as if you might slip away if he lets go. He’s reluctant to release you unless you explicitly ask him to; he’d keep you there forever if he could.

He savors the way your body fits perfectly against his, the softness of your skin against his cooler touch. He buries his face into your neck, breathing in your scent, his lips grazing your pulse as he shudders at the feeling of your warmth surrounding his cock.

He tries so hard to stay still, knowing you need this quiet moment of comfort, but it’s almost impossible for him. His hips shift ever so slightly, his cock throbbing inside you, and he can’t help the tiny, desperate movements he makes, even if they’re unintentional.

He can’t keep his hands to himself either. His fingers are restless, wandering across your body like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you. He takes moments to worship you, pressing his lips to your collarbone, your shoulders, any spot he can reach. His kisses are soft but hungry, lips parting as he drags his tongue over your skin, tasting the salt of your sweat. He lets out a needy, broken moan as his hands cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples, feeling them harden under his touch. He’s inexperienced, a little clumsy with his movements, but the eagerness behind it is undeniable. He’s trying so hard to make you feel good, his breath coming out in hot, ragged pants as he watches your reactions intently.

It’s not always sexual, at least not in the way he intends. Sometimes he just wants to feel you, to savor the heat of your body pressed against his, to revel in the way your warmth spreads through him. He loves the sensation of your skin against his own, the soft give of your flesh under his fingertips. But he can’t help himself; even when he’s just trying to hold you, he ends up teasing you without realizing it. His hips roll up slightly, and he groans low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your chest. He’s so sensitive, so easily overwhelmed by the feeling of you wrapped around him, that every little movement you make drives him wild.

He’s not practiced or skilled, and it shows in the way he fumbles, his touches uncoordinated but full of raw desire. He pinches your nipples a little too hard, a whimper escaping his lips when he realizes it, but instead of pulling back, he leans in closer, mouthing at the swell of your breast like he’s making up for it. His hands grip your waist, fingers digging into your hips as he struggles to keep himself from thrusting up into you. It’s like he can’t decide if he wants to savor the moment or chase after more, and it leaves him caught in this desperate, needy place that only you can pull him out of.

When it comes to mutual masturbation, it’s a different kind of intimacy, one that he’s hesitant about at first but quickly grows to crave. He hates touching himself when he’s alone, but with you, it’s different. You’re right there with him, your hand entwined with his, guiding him through the motions. He watches you, excited and breathless, his own hand trembling as he mirrors your movements. There’s something incredibly intimate about the way you both touch yourselves together, a shared vulnerability that makes his heart race.

He loves it when you talk to him through it, whispering sweet nothings, telling him how good he looks, how well he’s doing. It makes the experience bearable—no, more than that—it makes it beautiful. He’s not embarrassed when he’s with you: he’s not self-conscious or insecure. He’s just caught up in the moment, in the way your bodies move together, the way your breath hitches and syncs up with his.

When your hand finds his, coaxing him to stroke himself while you do the same, he whimpers softly, his fingers twitching against your palm. It’s overwhelming for him, the sensation of his own touch combined with the sight of you doing the same. He can’t stop himself from moaning, a needy, broken sound that escapes his lips as he watches you, completely captivated by the sight. "Me like you." You might whisper, and it takes everything in him to comply, the combination of your voice and your gaze making his whole body tremble.

You can tell how much he loves it by the way he leans into you, pressing his forehead to your shoulder as he touches himself with your guidance, whimpering in between. He’s panting, mouth open, like he’s too lost in the pleasure to look at anything else. The moment you reach out and wrap your hand around his, helping him stroke himself, he lets out a desperate moan, his entire body shivering as he clutches onto you. He’s a mess, but he’s your mess, completely undone by the shared pleasure and the feeling of your touch.

Mr. Crawling can be so eager when it comes to pleasuring you in return, that it borders on frantic. He doesn’t always take his time—sometimes, when he’s overwhelmed with excitement and craving you desperately, all of his usual patience flies out the window. He’ll drop between your legs, pulling you closer with a roughness that’s uncharacteristic for him, but it’s not out of aggression: it’s pure, unfiltered need. His hands are trembling as they grip your thighs, his breath hot and uneven against your skin. He’s already panting, like he can’t believe you’re letting him do this, and it makes him that much more impatient.

He dives in without hesitation, his mouth pressing against you hungrily, almost clumsily, as if he can’t bear to wait a second longer. His tongue flicks out, sloppy and uncoordinated at first, but it’s the urgency behind it that makes it so intoxicating. He’s lapping at you like a man starved, the sounds he makes—soft whimpers and desperate groans—filling the room. He’s inexperienced, but there’s something endearing about the way he tries so hard, so eager to please you even if he’s not entirely sure what he’s doing. He’s guided more by instinct than skill, following your reactions like they’re the only thing that matters.

He keeps glancing up at you, his face excited and yet almost pleading, as if he’s searching for reassurance that he’s doing it right. When he sees your pleasure written across your face, it only spurs him on. He loses himself in it, licking at you with a feverish intensity that makes it clear just how badly he needs this. He doesn’t bother with precision: he’s messy, licking you with broad, hurried strokes, his lips sucking at your clit with a desperate fervor. He moans into you, the vibrations sending little shocks of pleasure through your body, and you can tell he’s getting off on this as much as you are.

His grip on your thighs is almost bruising, like he’s afraid you might pull away. He’s whimpering into you, his tongue moving erratically, like he’s trying everything at once, too caught up in his own excitement to settle into any kind of rhythm. It’s overwhelming for him—the taste of you, the feel of your skin under his hands, the sounds you make when he hits a particularly sensitive spot. He’s panting between licks, his mouth never straying far from you, desperate to keep going even when he’s gasping for breath.

He’s a little too rough at times, sucking at your clit with a bit too much pressure, but the enthusiasm in his actions makes it hard to fault him for it. He’s learning from your reactions, his own inexperience showing through in the way he fumbles a bit, but it only adds to the intensity of the moment. When you tug on his hair, moaning out his name, he practically whines, grinding his face into you with renewed fervor. He’s almost overwhelmed by his own need, licking and sucking like he can’t get enough, like he’s trying to memorize every part of you with his mouth.

If you try to guide him, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging gently to slow him down, he lets out a frustrated, needy sound, shaking his head as if to tell you he doesn’t want to stop, doesn’t want to pace himself. He’s too lost in the moment, too eager to please, to care about taking his time. He’s devouring you like he’s afraid this is his only chance, like he’s desperate to prove how much he wants you, how much he loves being here, between your legs, giving you everything he can.

.

[odoraful]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 (𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬)

it's date night and the boys react to you wearing a new dress

⟡ content: zayne/sylus/xavier/rafayel/caleb x gn!reader; established relationship; complete & utter fluff; compliments & showers of affection; dresses are described (i had dress references that i thought would suit the boys' vibes hehe, but feel free to picture whatever dress you want!); ~0.5k words per scene

⟡ a/n: my first time writing for caleb GASP! it was very fun to write him but, admittedly, i don't own all of his cards (the struggles of f2p 😞), nor have i done all of his memoria/other content, so i hope i was still able to do him justice! 🥺

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 ⟡

Subconsciously, Zayne rose from his seat as soon as he saw you. His body somehow told him that appreciating you whilst sitting down was a horrible injustice. It was true, though. Standing gave him the proper vantage point to admire your outfit. The way the smooth white material draped around your curves and flowed down to your ankles, the fabric turning sheer near the hem. Blue watercolor-like flowers were scattered across the dress—the softness of it all made it seem like you were a walking dream. A silvery necklace rested against your collarbones, matching the teardrop gemstones that dangled from your ears.

You were still in the middle of adjusting your earrings when you walked out, not paying any mind to the effects your entrance had on your enamored partner.

Zayne’s lips parted, the air seemingly sucked from him. He blinked multiple times as if he were trying to see whether you were an illusion.

It was no trick conjured by his mind. You were real, you were his, and you were stunning.

Finished with your earrings, you looked up at him with a smile. It took every ounce of will for Zayne’s knees not to buckle and fall back onto the chair.

“I’m ready to go now,” you said, walking over to him, your heels giving a dull click against the hard floors.

“It’ll be a bit colder tonight,” was all Zayne could muster saying with most of his thoughts entangled by your appearance.

Your face immediately fell into a pout. With a disappointed sigh, you hung your head.

“Alright, I’ll go get something to cover up…”

Before your feet could even move to walk away, Zayne’s hands snaked around your waist. A short gasp fell out of you.

Beneath the thin fabric of your dress, you could feel the press of his cool fingertips. He held you in place with a firm grip, his body flush with yours. His lips brushed against the shell of your ear.

“Where are you going?” he asked, his closeness leaving shivers up your spine.

“T-to bring something to wear on top of my dress? You just said that it would be cold.”

His brows lifted, realizing the misunderstanding he caused. “I apologize. What I meant was I’ll bring my jacket for you to wear if it gets too chilly.”

Your stomach fluttered, though you didn’t know if it was due to the proximity of his body, his low voice, or his offer to keep you warm during the night out. You turned around in his grasp, meeting his gaze.

“There is no need for you to hide it beneath extra clothing if you want to show it off. You look beautiful in that new dress, my love.”

Now you knew exactly what caused those tingles in your stomach.

The direct compliments Zayne tended to give always affected you deeply. Combined with the nickname that rolled so effortlessly off his tongue, you were the one left entangled now. And he would admire you a thousand times more just to see that expression on your face.

”Perhaps I should change the color of my tie to match.”

“Dr Zayne wanting to do couple matching?” You feigned a gasp of shock, bracing a hand against his chest. “How unheard of!”

Zayne breathed a fond and quiet laugh. “Yes, I’ve been learning a lot of new things when I’m with you.”

𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐒 ⟡

“My, my, my,” Sylus sounded out as you walked into the kitchen. He chuckled in astonishment, the resonant sound warming your senses. “Don’t you look absolutely divine this evening?”

Sylus washed his hands at the sink and dried them off with a towel. He was in the middle of preparing dinner for the two of you when you made your grand reveal. Naturally, he had to stop everything to give you the attention you deserved.

“Do you notice anything different?” you asked innocently, hands tucked behind your back.

Sylus smirked. He rested his chin on his hand, indulging your theatrics.

“Hmm, let me guess… is it your hair?” he began, reaching out to tuck a strand behind your ear.

You tempered your expression, trying to remain neutral despite the corners of your lips curving upwards.

“Or… maybe your makeup?” he trailed his hand down to your cheek, lightly brushing against your skin with his thumb.

Sylus’ hand moved to rest at your back, guiding you closer to him. His gaze travelled from your head to your toes. 

“Ah, I know what it is.”

You were wearing an elegant black dress that reached your ankles—certainly fit to be in attendance at a high class function. The bodice resembled a corset, with faux boning running from the square neckline down towards the waist before disappearing before the skirt. Thin black straps tied off in ribbons at your shoulders. A necklace of silver and ruby dazzled under the warm lights of the kitchen. Contrasting with the rest of your outfit, rather than wear a matching pair of shoes, on your feet were your prized fuzzy slippers that you wore around the Onichynus base. Sylus could help but break into a smile.

Tonight’s date was a night-in after all, so comfort would be given number one priority.

“It’s this lovely new dress.” 

His compliment seemed to be amplified by the husk in his voice. You clasped your hands around his neck, pulling him nearer. 

“Correct!” you grinned. “It’s the one you helped me pick out, remember?”

He nodded. Two weeks ago you had gone clothes shopping together and stumbled upon this simple black dress. Sylus saw the way your eyes lingered on it, even after being alarmed by the price tag. You were prepared to say goodbye to it on the clothing rack. Little did you know, Sylus had already signalled to the shop assistant to have it wrapped up and sent to his home. 

“I do,” he answered, drawing small circles at the small of your back with his finger. “It seems we both have good taste.”

Your eyes darted away from his gaze. “I know you’re just making dinner for us, but I wanted to dress up a little.”

There was very little that could make the leader of Onichynus lose his composure, but the shyness on your face was enough to make him weak.

Sylus kissed your forehead. “Trust me when I say this, my dear, the gesture is greatly appreciated.”

He tilted your face upwards. Sincerity brimmed in his crimson gaze as he spoke, 

“You know you can wear whatever you want around me. Whether you dress up or dress down, you always look stunning.”

𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 ⟡

Eyes growing wide as porcelain plates, Xavier watched with awe when you exited the bedroom. He’d never seen you wear this dress. He didn’t even know where to look first.

The white fabric ruffled in two tiers around your thighs, with loose frills lining the neckline, accentuating your decolletage. It was shoulderless, with long sheer white sleeves that extended from the dress. To complement its shorter length, you wore white lace socks that ended below your knees.

It was the embodiment of flirty and sweet, only made more so by the twirl you gave him.

“You got a new dress,” Xavier observed.

He walked over to meet you, a smile blooming across his face as you toyed with the ruffles at your neckline.

“Mhm, I did! How do I look?”

Xavier ran his fingers down the sleeve, feeling the material. He trailed the length of your arm, the light touch leaving goosebumps in its wake, until he reached your hand.

“The color is just like starlight.”

Lifting your hand up to his lips, he gave your knuckles a tender kiss. It was almost a scene from a storybook—a prince boldly showcasing his affection for his lover. Though, rather than a castle, you were standing in his apartment on his blue striped rug. It didn’t matter. For you, it was a fairytale nonetheless.

“You look radiant,” he said, looking up at you with admiration and… something else.

Xavier straightened himself and inhaled. Unexpectedly, he leaned over and began unlacing his shoes, taking them off his feet. Your face contorted with confusion. Whatever he was doing now was a stark difference in tone from the previous moment you just shared.

“Xavier… what are you doing?”

He neatly lined his shoes up on the edge of the rug on the wooden floorboards.

“Can we change the date to just staying in?” he asked.

“Huh? Why?”

His answer came in the form of pulling you into a hug and collapsing on the sofa with you. You gasped in surprise. Cupping your face in both his hands, Xavier began to kiss you. Starting from your forehead down to your cheeks. In that fraction of a second each time he pulled away, he eyed you—your expression a mixture of surprise and delight, the way your chest rose and fell in that ruffled dress. He continued his affectionate ambush, his gentle lips leaving your skin warm and rose-colored.

“Xavier!” you cried out, bursting into giggles.

Though you had your hands on his shoulders, you didn’t give much resistance, letting your partner shower you with kisses.

“We’re going to be late for our reservation—mmph!”

He finally reached your lips, slowing his movements, letting himself savor the faint sweetness from the gloss you applied. You too almost got lost, brain clouded by the familiar and tempting sensation. Xavier felt your hands tap his shoulders and he pulled back to find your lips in a pout.

“You know we’re never going to leave if we stay like this.”

Xavier sighed resignedly. “Okay, okay, we’ll go.”

Nodding his head he rested his forehead on your shoulder, as if it took all his strength to move away. “I just couldn’t help it. It’s hard to resist kissing you when you look like that.”

𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋 ⟡

Being a denizen of an underwater kingdom meant Rafayel had seen many pretty sights in his life. But, none would compare to when he was looking at you. Especially now when you walked into his studio wearing a new dress. His lips curved into a smile, unable to contain the wonder on his face.

The dress was made of a taupe-coloured chiffon with red flowers and olive leaves patterning the fabric. From the open window of his studio, the light breeze made the flowy material flutter around your legs. The waistline ended just below the bust, with a heart-shaped neckline that gave the perfect space for your shell necklace (given as a present from Rafayel himself). Your white sandals tapped against the floorboards, ready for your evening by the beach. 

“Is there a special anniversary I’m forgetting?” Rafayel asked, placing his hands on his hips. “Why am I receiving such a lovely gift?” 

You chuckled, speaking with a playful lilt, “Sometimes there’s no reason for nice things to happen. I just thought I’d try on something new.”

He approached, holding your hands in his. The swirl of violet and pink in his eyes gleamed with splendour. “You look beautiful, like you just stepped out of a painting.”

“You can thank Aunt Talia,” you said. “She helped choose it for me when she visited Linkon.”

Rafayel shrugged, though, there was pride in his voice as he spoke. “It’s easy to pick when you have a perfect muse like yourself.” 

With his hand still in yours, Rafayel stretched his arm outward, creating distance between you two before leading you towards his chest. You twirled into his arms like a ballroom dancer, the skirt of your dress dancing along with you.

He wished he had something to record your laugh in that moment—the pure delight in your voice. Perhaps he could keep it in a seashell for him to hold to his ear whenever he missed you. More of your giggles erupted when he swung you out from him once again. This time, when he pulled you in, he braced an arm around your back, dipping you. 

His face was inches away from yours. He looked at the pink dusting your cheeks, the sparkle on your eyelids, and the giddiness in your smile. The statement remained true. No other sight could compare to you.

Lifting you back to standing position, he kept his arms encircled at your waist.

“The fabric of the dress flows just like water,” he commented. “And the colour compliments you so nicely.”

Rafayel appeared entranced, as if he was staring at a rare artwork sitting in an illustrious gallery. Studying your features with that same painter’s eye. 

“You’re giving me that look again.” You lightly poked the tip of his nose with your index finger. “Am I to be the inspiration for your next piece now?”

He shook his head in amusement. “Cutie, you should see the margins of all my sketchbooks.”

“You’re always an inspiration to me, every second of every day.”

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁 ⟡

Waiting for you to come out of your room made Caleb’s stomach flutter in anticipation. It wasn’t dissimilar to the very first time he tried flying. The sudden change in speed and altitude. That momentary weightlessness before everything dropped. He didn’t realise being at your apartment in Linkon City, waiting to see what you were going to wear for the night, would provoke the same feelings as being in a fighter jet. He covered his face with his hand in an act of controlling himself–conscious of the effect you had on him. 

The moment ended when he heard your door click shut. Caleb turned around from staring at the photographs on the wall to finally see you.

At a first glance, the dress was simple–made of a silky material with no embellishments, and two thin straps at the shoulders. However, in the light, your green dress shimmered with iridescence. The gold that shone through the fabric shifted with every step you took towards him, ever changing depending on where the light was hitting you. 

Caleb folded his arms, his eyes shamelessly wandering up and down. A slow and intentional gaze that ensured he could memorize the image he saw before him.

You were practically beaming at him, and his own heart leapt from his chest.

“I don’t recognize this from your wardrobe. Is it new?” His question came out almost breathless. 

“It is, how observant of you,” you chirped. “What do you think?” 

You took one more step closer until he could reach out and feel the material for himself. It was smooth and delicate under his touch. He let it slip off his fingers before looking back at you, completely transfixed. 

“You look gorgeous,” he breathed. The earnesty in his voice made your pulse skip. 

“You know,” Caleb circled around you, hands at his back. It seemed as though he wanted to admire the dress from every angle, “any person in their right mind would want to get close after seeing someone as cute as you.”

Without you realising, he had actually cornered you against your wall of photographs.

He placed his left hand against the wall beside your head, satisfaction plain on his face. You puffed out your cheeks in mock annoyance at Caleb’s sneaky position switching. Only you got to witness this mischievous, boyish side to him. 

“I guess I’ll have to keep a lookout tonight,” he whispered in your ear before kissing you on the cheek.  

“Don’t worry, I’ll stay right by your side,” you reassured, patting his head. 

“Mmm, that’s good to hear.” He leaned into your touch, lips curved into a soft, nostalgic smile.

“I remember you weren’t too fond of wearing dresses when you were younger.”

“That was a long time ago,” you commented, brushing your fingers through his dark hair to tidy it up. “Things can change.”

He caught your hand in his, interlocking his fingers with yours. Warmth radiated through your palms. 

“Then, I want to see you in more pretty clothes like this,” he said. “Let’s go shopping tomorrow, I’ll get you anything you want.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[inbarfink]

When talking about the distinction between Simon Petrikov and the Ice King,  it’s important to remember that originally, the Crown wasn’t trying to turn Simon into Ice King -

It was trying to turn him into this guy.

At the time, the Ice Crown - or rather the Wishing Crown - was programmed with Gunther’s wish to become Evergreen. So everything related to making the current wearer like Evergreen is a very direct result of the Crown’s Magic. The physical changes -

And the obsession with the name ‘Gunther’ -

And maybe some of the irritability and anger issues -

That is something the Crown is very directly forcing unto its current wielder. 

But everything else?

Ice King, personality-wise, was not much like Evergreen at all, or even like Gunther's view of him. And Ice Finn of the Farmworld Universe was also pretty different from the both of them.

At the time, I remember people assumed Ice Finn’s behavior is more indicative of what the Crown is actually trying to do with its wielders. That Ice King is so different because of Simon’s subconscious resistance against the Crown - while Finn’s much younger and dumber brain is a lot susceptible to the Curse’s influence to become some sort of mad world-conquering emperor of ice and snow. 

But, with the context of the Crown’s actual backstory. That doesn’t seem very likely anymore. I think what’s actually happening there is that the Crown is just trying to make its wielder an Ice Wizard on par with Evergreen (who was the Actual Goddam Ice Elemental) and that means pumping the wielder’s brain so full of Magic, Madness and Sadness to a level that is bound to overwhelm anyone.

And Simon’s and Farmworld Finn’s very different behaviors after putting on the crown is indicative, more than anything, of how their psyche reacts to Madness and Sadness in general. You know, Finn has a very proactive and kinda aggressive personality - and you add Crown-induced-Madness-and-Sadness and a compulsion to use Ice Magic as much as possible and you get all of…. this 

Meanwhile, for Simon, the compulsions of the Crown originally filtered exclusively via the language of protection 

As his madness always manifested as romantic obsession 

And using goofy humor to try and deny the pain he’s going through 

Because that’s how Simon’s mind specifically reacts to being flooded with so much Madness and Sadness.

That’s why there’s so many parallels between Ice King and the sort of mistakes and screwed-up stuff Simon does right now! He’s even kidnapping people again!

Because the Madness and Sadness of Ice King might’ve been induced by the Crown, but now Simon has plenty of personal home-grown Madness and Sadness inside him - and it’s no surprise that Curse-Induced or not, his mind reacts to it in a sorta-similar way. (Although obviously not as intensely, again, there was a LOT of MMS in the Ice Crown).

Now as for Ice Thing, and the fact that he seems to be actually rather well-adjusted under effects of his version of the Wishing Crown. I mean... not by the time of the 1000+ Era, but that’s literally eons in the future and also maybe more Gibbon’s fault. Even if the Crown will eventually take some sort of toll on him, for now he seems to be doing pretty well considering his wish. I mean, there's still some sort of Loss of Identity stuff going on

But everything we've seen of Ice Thing (in the present day, at least) shows him as a friendly and cheerful individual that gets along well with others. A far cry from how maladjusted every single wielder of the Ice Crown acted.

At the very least, if there's any notable amount of Sadness in him, we really haven't seen it yet.

There might be several factors here:

First things first, I should acknowledge the possibility that it’s just that Orgalorg’s eldritch brain is better at intaking all that MMS juice. That could play a part, but I think it’s probably more important, at least thematically, to look at the distinction between ‘I wish to be Evergreen’ and ‘I wish to be Ice King’. 

First in the sense that while Ice King was occasionally mean to Gunter at times - he was generally much kinder than Evergreen ever was for ‘his’ Gunther. So, like, pretty much the one Personality Flaw of Ice King that you can directly link to the Ice Crown’s attempt to mimic Evergreen is the occasional anger issues.

And how they relate to Gunther’s view of Evergreen, so grumpy and controlling and constantly saying ‘NO!’

(Both Finn and Simon’s demonstrable not-crown-induced trauma responses can make them pretty short-tempered as well. So I’m not going to say this is purely the effects of the Crown. It still probably plays some sort of factor at why the wielder of the Ice Crown is Like That).

And that is not a factor in how Gunter views Ice King. For him, Ice King was a doting and loving father figure - so if the Crown was ever trying to implement any sort of specific negative personality traits, this is absolutely no longer a factor. Because the original Ice Crown was a reflection of Evergreen’s abuse, and now Ice Thing is a reflection of Ice King’s fatherly love.

Which is, itself, probably an echo or remnant of Simon’s own strong parental instincts. 

Secondly, while the Crown was trying to make the Ice King just as powerful as Evergreen…. Ice King was obviously not as powerful as Evergreen. Because he was already a second-rate copy of the Ice Elemental’s power, and because Ice King was often just too doofy to use his powers correctly and probably because some remnant of Simon’s original sensible self is subconsciously holding his powers back.

Either way, being ‘like Ice King’ as Gunter sees him requires less Magic than being ‘like Evergreen’ as Gunther saw him - and therefore less Madness and Sadness. Leading to the wearer or, um, the eater being a lot more well-adjusted from the get-go.

And I think that the implication that Ice Thing has fused with the Crown, so there's never going to be another poor sap who puts on the Crown and gets Ice King'd. But if there is one somehow... at least the process is going to be less mentally detrimental that time around?

Maybe one day Simon could look back and appreciate how much he (or Ice King, or both of them, or however you want to look at the situation) is responsible for basically neutralizing the Crown that ruined his life in the first place.

[writeriguess]

Write me a fic with Katsuki x fem reader where you think he hates you but he actually has the biggest crush on you. Describe how it shows. No love confessions, reader is completely oblivious.

Hating Loving You

You were convinced Bakugo Katsuki hated your guts. There was no other explanation for his behavior.

Every time you walked into the room, his scowl deepened. His sharp crimson eyes would narrow in your direction like you were an annoying fly buzzing around his head. He never spoke to you unless it was absolutely necessary, and when he did, his words were clipped, laced with irritation. And God forbid if you ever so much as glanced in his direction during training—he’d immediately roll his eyes and turn away like the mere sight of you was offensive.

You didn’t understand it. You had never done anything to him. You were polite, you treated him just as you treated everyone else, and you even cheered for him during matches, just like you did for all of your classmates. And yet, whenever you so much as breathed near him, he acted like he wanted to launch you into the sun.

But what you didn’t see—what everyone else saw—was the way Bakugo Katsuki’s hands clenched into fists whenever someone else made you laugh. How his jaw ticked when Kaminari slung an arm over your shoulders, or how his explosions became just a little too aggressive when you excitedly talked to Kirishima after a sparring session.

You didn’t notice how he always ended up standing near you, even when he had no reason to. How he was the first one to react when you got hurt during training, barking at Recovery Girl to hurry up, his hands twitching with barely restrained worry. How his gaze softened—just a fraction—whenever he caught sight of you, before he quickly masked it with another scowl.

You missed how he always made sure you had a seat near him during meals, even if it meant glaring at someone else until they moved. Or how he always paired up with you during exercises, grumbling under his breath but never once letting you get the short end of the stick. How he paid attention to the little things—your favorite snacks mysteriously appearing in the dorm common room, your training gear always being placed neatly on your side of the locker room instead of in a messy pile.

You were oblivious to the way his ears turned pink whenever you smiled at him, to the way he shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away quickly, afraid of letting you see the effect you had on him.

But the rest of the class saw it.

“Oh my God, she has no clue,” Kaminari groaned one afternoon, watching as you waved cheerfully at Bakugo, only to receive an aggressive scoff in response. “How is she this blind?”

“She probably thinks he actually hates her,” Mina whispered back, snickering when Bakugo’s eye twitched at your obliviousness.

“She’s an idiot,” Bakugo muttered under his breath, scowling as you turned back to your conversation with Jirou. But the scowl didn’t reach his eyes, not really.

No one bothered to tell you the truth. They figured you’d find out eventually—when Bakugo finally snapped and did something about it. But until then, they were more than happy to sit back and watch the show.

[shiftingwithcha]

so...I shifted and I am freaking out !

Hello people! I hope you are all doing amazing! For everybody that is reading this and want to shift, I hope it gives you motivation!

So firstly y'all need to know that my DR is Stranger Things (season 3 because the mall looks fire). I have found this walkman from my dad like maybe a week ago and decided to listen to my Billy Joel mixtape. I bought those melatonin gummies and decided to try it out and I ate 2 of those as well.

WHAT I DID BEFORE SHIFTING:

So I laid down on my bed, my walkman in my hand and I close my eyes as I felt the gummies having their effects on me. I started to fall asleep and as the music went on I started to count and just feel my body and my surrounding as I was just focusing on waking up in my dr.

As I was trying to keep my focus on my music I slowly started to feel myself just melt in my bed and my music was slowly fading out and coming back but all of a sudden it just stopped, which at first made me so confused because it is supposed to be 45 minutes long and I then felt like I wasn't in my bed. I was elsewhere.

THE STORY TIME:

As I felt this weird feeling, I realised I was slowly waking up and someone was actually just shaking my shoulder. I opened my eyes and didn't feel my headphones nor the walkman in my hands. I turn to the person that was shaking me awake and it was Hopper (he is my dad there). He looked at me and it is AT THIS MOMENT THAT I REALISED THAT IT WAS NOT A FREAKING DREAM.

I looked around and I was a bit freaked out because this is clearly not like a freaking lucid dream nor a normal dream. He looked at me and basically just said: "can you get your butt up because Marie (my best friend there) keeps spamming the phone and won't stop calling until you wake up"

So I got up and freaked out a bit and Hopper noticed that and went: "are you good? You look disoriented". I assured him I was alright but in my head I was FREAKING OUT. I was happy he couldn't see how my brain was ticking in my brain because he would have been sooo worried.

I got myself ready and as I was putting my shoes on, Marie came and I got in her car. We were heading to the mall. I was so happy and still was freaking out how IT IS ALL FREAKING ALL REAL. I was looking around I was almost on the verge of actually pinch marie to see if she would react but instead I was just playing with the radio she had in her car and she was like: " what the hell are you doing? You know my freaking radio does not work so don't bother trying". And I was like: "Yeaaa yea I totally knew that already!!". (I think she was suspicious about something)

We then arrived to the mall and we just started to hang out and just shop around at the Gap especially and other store. We even took a look at the Radio Shack that they had and it just computer stuff but still hella cool (I kind of miss Bob). THE MALL IS HUGE. THEY ARE SO MUCH STUFF TO DO THERE IT IS JUST CRAZY.

Then Marie and I decided (mostly Marie) to go to scoops and guess who works there???? STEVE WORKS THERE AAAAH. I was totally trying not to freak out but it was hard not to. So basically we walked in and I was trying to keep myself concentrated on Marie and I went like: "Oh so Robin works here? I bet you only wanted to see her because you like her right?" I was basically teasing Marie with Robin and I waved at Robin. She is so so nice. And she waved back while Marie literally answered me: "okay stfu she is right there".

And then..I saw him...Steve freaking Harrington. He has the sweetest smile. If I was an ice cream I think I would have melted like RIGHT THERE ON THE SPOT. HIS SMILE IS SO PRECIOUS BUT ANYWAYS. We walked and he just always has this thing that he passes him hand through his hair all the time??? It is a bit annoying but his hair looks so fluffy as well.

We walked to the counter and Steve and Robin were just bickering about that stupid board with "you suck/you rule". But he just cut the conversation and talked to us saying: "Hi you guys want anything?" And I STAYED SILENT I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO ANSWER AND HE LOOKED AT ME AND SAID: "Oh it has been a while since we have seen each other ah!" AND I WAS JUST PANICKING RIGHT ONTHE SPOT AND I WENT LIKE: "oh yea.. you are right it has been a while!"

So after that he looked at us and said: "So maybe so cherry jubilee ice cream?" He was a bit fighting with Robin because I believe that since Robin also has a crush on Marie she wanted to serve us just so she could talk to Marie. And while marie agreed to it I said that I wanted to taste the blue ice cream which was "smurf's flavour" AND IT WAS DELICIOUS but he literally said like: "that is the one we sell the less because it has the worst flavour of all" and was like "I don't care I want this one" AND THE WAY HE SHRUGGED HIS SHOULDERS AND PULLED OUT HIS FREAKING SCOOPER MAN...I am a fan for this man.

So...I asked for one scoops only but he gave me 3 instead and I didn't had to pay omg like what??? What a gentleman. So I thanked him and walk to a table with marie and sat down my back facing the counter so I couldn't see them. And after we were talking about some random stuff with Marie I FEEL SOMEONE WALKING NEXT TO ME AND IT WAS FREAKING STEVE. I lightly tapped my shoulder with his index finger and went like: "oh yea..do you...know about that party tonight? Do you plan on going?" and I look at Marie and frowned a bit saying "Well I would love to, but I would only be allowed to go if Marie and Jonathan were going" So marie agreer to it as Robin was also gonna be there.

So I agreed on going and he was like: "Oh well can't wait to see you again!!" After we finished our ice cream and as I grab all my shopping bags he grabs one of mine and looks at me and say: "oh don't forget this one" and I went like: "Oh yea sure give it to marie thank you" I SWEAR I MUST HAVE SOUND SO DRY BUT I WAS JUST SO FREAKED OUT!

So me and Marie walked out and she brought me back home Hopper was not there because he must have been to work. Eleve was not there either and I still don't know where she was probably at Mike's. Marie left to go grab some stuff and as I settled down on my bed I was thinking about all the stuff that happened to far and I was thinking about shifting back so I could enjoy my next shift without freaking the fuck out.

so I shifted back and woke to my walkman but it was not playing anymore it was just turning.. SO THAT WAS JUST AMAZING AND I CAN'T STOP FREAKING OUT OF HOW REAL THIS IS AAAAAH.

[writingfromasgard]

Price's woman being an absolute terror for the boys. It's not that she's mean.. she's strange. She knows too much about topics she shouldn't. Price is too good of a soldier to let those details slip and he always said he never brings home work.

One day they're having a 'family' dinner, whiskey included. You're perched on Price's lap (because the boys are taking up the couch and your chair) and they're all watching a crime show you put on - NCSI.

You snorts, "that chemical doesnt even react that fast. It would take hours to even leave a chemical burn at its most concentrated levels.."

Ghost pauses, beer almost to his lips. "How do you know that?"

"It's basic Chem. It has a mild acidic effect but not enough positive hydroniums to be corrosive to human skin." You explained.

Gaz's brow raises next, "I never learned that."

Price chuckles, rubbing your back. "Doll, I think you watched a documentary on that. It's a bit above board."

"Oh." You pause, "well yeah, positive hydroniums are why things are acidic.. when the negative hydroxyls are outnumbers."

"You'd make a good demolitionist." Soap adds, grinning.

"I'd make a better serial killer." You laugh, taking a sip of Price's beer.

[raywhitfield92]

I might get a lot of hate for this, but I want Helluva Boss to explore the myriad of reasons cis women get abortions. I want it to be explored in a healthy way

Because I feel in the current climate (especially politically) people don't want to ever think of the possibility that a woman won't want children. Millie isn't happy about this news.

And I'd absolutely love for Millie to not tell Moxxie she had an abortion, I want her to feel guilty about it and talk to Blitzø about it, worrying that if Moxxie knew he'd hate her.

And I want Blitzø to convince her that because he loves her he would support her no matter what. And when she tells Moxxie he just says "it's your body so it's your choice, but next time let me know so I can help you through this."

Not all cis women want nor can physically have children. We need to talk about abortion in a much healthier way than the current climate allows.

Edit to add this:

Okay so while replying to someone it made me think, what if they tied this in to Stella's backstory? Very early on we see that Stella seems kind of distant towards Octavia.

If Stella is a woman who was forced to have a child when she didn't want one, her personality towards Stolas and Octavia becomes more apparent.

She spends more time with her brother than with Octavia.

she even calls her "an egg"

and "his daughter" instead of ever calling her Octavia or even her own daughter.

This could be a good way to explore how a person who was forced into a mothering role could act, and explains her distaste for Stolas' strength of actually doing something against the Ars Goetias authority.

Stella in this moment sees Octavia crying, but if we look at her eyes closely she isn't watching the television, she's looking at Octavia and smiling at the fact she's in pain.

Stella thinks she's proven here that it's impossible/was impossible to ever go against the status quo, that her wishes of ever disobeying the Goetia is futile and she's proven to Stolas and Octavia that it was always impossible.

I think a plot like this could really help the audience understand childfree people from a different perspective, and what  could happen if you force a person who wishes to be childfree to have a child.

She could even have been mentally unwell/unstable after/before giving birth, which effects how she reacts towards people.

We as a society need to stop pressuring people into doing things our grandparents did just because it's what is expected of you.

This whole show is about generational trauma and breaking free from it, so I can see the show going this direction if it chooses to.

What do you think of this idea, and of it tying into a possible Stella backstory?