#i do not need these responses anymore how can i communicate that to my body?

[hearties-circus]

I!! Hate!! Random!! Hunger spikes!!!

[boothillssugarmomma]

Steel Here

(Boothill x Fem!Reader)

cw-: Body dysmorphia, slight talks of hating themself, other than that fluff fluff

🎀 authorsnote: Rn I'm feeling like my body isn't great so I used this fic to sort of get it out! And it actually felt great!

please don't steal my work!

Taglist🎀HSR Master List🎀Other Lists🎀

Boothill’s quietly sitting in his room that you begged him to have on The Astral Express. As his girlfriend you've been trying to get him to stay around more and he adores it.

But it also gives him more time to really think...and he doesn't know if he likes that part.

Ok...he hates it. He hates that fact that he has to see himself when he passes a mirror, he hates it when he feels his cool steel against his face, he hates how he can't feel your hugs...

Boothill stands and looks in the mirror, flexing his mechanical arms softly and glancing over his fake abs. He shakes his left metal leg and sighs.

He hears the small mechanical noise of his bedroom door and looks over to it. He smiles softly as he sees you.

“Hey sweet thang...” He shoots you a warm smirk, trying to cover up what he was doing as he quickly sits on his bed. You glance over at the mirror and back to him. Piecing it in your mind what exactly he was doing. “What do ya need hon...?”

You're silent as he asks. No response as you just blink. Your eyes communicate to him that you want him to tell you what you saw.

Your boyfriend sighs a little. Placing his head in his hands and closing his eyes.

“Don't gimme that look...” He breathes, obviously frustrated as he looks back up at you, “Fine...I'm startin' to wish I was me again...I don't want this body anymor'.”

"Oh honey..." You whisper softly as you sit next to him on the bed. You place a hand on his back but remember he won't even be able to feel it...

“See...now would ya look at that...?” Boothills voice drawls, he places a hand on your thigh and sighs as you shiver at the cold metal. “I...guess this is ma' life now..." He scoffs softly. "Can't even curse...it's all 'muddle fudger' this and 'fork that' and 'son of a nice lady'..."

"Boothill sweetheart..." You whisper as you lean against him. "Don't say that..."

Boothill hesitates on resting his temple against your head, he doesn’t need his body reminding him that part of his ridiculous body is only metal.

But he doesn’t know what else to do to comfort himself. He’s frustrated to the moon and back, frustrated at being in this body he doesn’t want.

“I don’t think you understand, darlin’” Boothill whispers. “I miss the me I once was. I just… don’t feel quite like myself anymore…”

"You're still...my Boothill..." You pull away gently and grasp his cheek.

The corner of his lips quirk upwards at your words, but the warm touch and caress of your hand on his cheek still doesn’t feel the same. He wishes of his could feel the same kind of texture he once thrived from and took for granted in his human skin...not just his face.

It’s almost...cold to him.

“You’re the only one who can remind me of the old me that’s still lyin’ somewhere underneath this piece’o’junk body.” He murmurs.

"It's not a piece'o'junk..." You imitate him with a smile. "Boothill... you're amazing just the way you are..."

There you go smiling. If there’s anything that’s capable of changing his mood for the better, it’s you.

Boothill gives you a chuckle. “Look who’s sweet talkin’ who now,” his voice is a bit more lighthearted than previously. “You’ve gotta stop bein’ like this darlin’. You’re gonna make me blush.”

You smile softly and kiss his cheek. "Honey...look at me..." You take his face in your hands. "I love you..."

Boothill smiles, feeling your lips press against his cheek. His hands find their way to your wrists, gently caressing them and wishing he could feel your skin. He knows it's definitely a lot warmer than the cold of his steel.

“You’re a real charmer, y’know that?” He says, his voice low and amused. “I don’t reckon I can look anywhere else when ya say things like that.”

"Now...how can we make you feel better?" You hum softly in his ear.

“You have no idea how bad I want that...” Boothill replies with a grin. He pulls your face closer to his and whispers into your ear. “But you’ve got to keep those sweet words of yours comin’.” Boothill’s voice is low and seductive. “I’m starvin’ here, darlin’.”

"Pamper Queen tonight aren't we?" You laugh, placing your hand on his chest.

“Only for my darlin’.” He teases, placing a hand over yours and gently rubbing his thumb against your skin. Boothill’s other hand caresses your cheek. “Let’s be frank; you’ve gotten me spoiled rotten, and I ain’t mad about it.”

Your face contorts into a look of pure thought. "Here...since you give me massages sometimes..." You get up and walk over to his closet.

Boothill’s curious as his gaze follow your movements, hands resting on the arm rest. He wonders if you’re looking for something specific.

“Whatcha lookin’ for, darlin’?” He asks, tilting his head to rest his cheek on his metal palm, fingers pressed against his chin.

"How about we polish your metal?" You pull out some wax and a waxing machine.

Boothill’s expression changes into something resembling a mix of disbelief and shock, then into amusement as he bursts into laughter. He had an expectation for what you were going to do, but this wasn’t it.

“Is that a euphemism for something I’m not gettin’?" He jokes, his laughter trailing into a playful smirk as he watches you closely.

"Well...I don't know the equivalent of a massage for cyborgs!" You whine playfully.

Boothill chuckles as he playfully rolls his eyes at you. “Oh, I’m certain a few people out there would call this ‘metal maintenance’ or something.”

He then rises to his feet. “And I wouldn’t mind havin’ ya give me a good ol’ metal maintenance, darlin’. But I hope you know I’m ticklish in some spots.”

"How are you ticklish..." You murmur and plug it into the wall.

Boothill chuckles again, crossing his arms as he gazes down at the metal machine in your hands. “I’m ticklish ‘round my neck and behind my knee, believe it or not. I ain’t kiddin’.”

He walks over to you and stands before you, a grin spreading on his face. “I’ve got a feelin’ you’re gonna use this as a weapon against me, aren’t ya?”

"Phantom tickles on the knee I guess..." You hum and fire it up. "And it's NOT a weapon..."

“Aww, shoot… and here I was, thinkin’ you’d give me a break.” He quips, shrugging his shoulder and letting out a small chuckle.

In truth, Boothill is a little excited for you to polish him. “How are you at polishin’ machines, darlin’? Cause it ain’t gonna be clean if you don’t know what you’re doin’...” He teases as he glances at the polishing machine, then back at you.

You hesitate and cough. "I'm...great?" You quickly get to work before he can question anything.

Boothill raises a brow as he eyes you with a small, amused smirk. He has a feeling you're definitely not good with these machines.

“I’m sure ya are.” He teases, a small, playful chuckle falling from his lips.

While Boothill initially stands still, he can’t help but feel a little ticklish as he can feel the machine polish the outer surface of his thigh. “Careful with that…”

You giggle softly as you keep polishing his metal body. You slide up to his neck and carefully polish it.

A soft, amused chuckle leaves Boothill as he can’t help it. Your gentle polish on his neck is a little ticklish, which causes him to tense up from the sensation. He’d definitely describe it as ticklishness. He rests a hand on the back of your head as you polish his neck, caressing the underside of his fingers against your skin.

“Oh, what a sight to see. I’ve got my pretty lady polishin’ me to perfection.” He teases.

"D-Don't distract me or I'll move!" You whine.

“Distract you?” Boothill murmurs, his lips tilting into a small smirk. “I’m just complimentin' you.”

He gently moves your chin with a finger, guiding it to meet his gaze as he gazes down at you. “And don’t move. I like the way your beautiful eyes look when you’re focused on me.” A tease disguised as a compliment.

You freeze as your heart pounds in your chest...which was not the best move because the polisher slides right off him and shoots at the wall.

A small gasp leaves Boothill when he watches the polisher slide off him. But then he bursts into a hearty chuckle, his hands resting on his waist. His eyes are closed while he laughs, and when he’s done, he glances at the wall where the polisher’s been launched into.

“That wall didn’t do nothin’ to deserve that, darlin’...“ He teases through stifled giggles.

"Y-Yeah well...you distracted me!" You whine before sitting in his lap.

Boothill pulls you onto his lap and rests his chin on your shoulder, his arms naturally wrapping around your waist. As you lean against him, he can see the machine embedded into the wall from the corner of his eye. He shakes his head and laughs again.

“You’re a feisty one, aren’t ya?” He teases, nuzzling his face to the crook of your neck and trailing his lips against your skin.

"It's not like I did it on purpose..." You mutter into his hair.

Boothill lets out another chuckle, feeling the warmth of your breath against his head. “I know you didn’t.” He murmurs, letting out a low sigh that’s a mix of contentment and relief.

He gently presses his cheek to the top of your head, his fingers gently rubbing your waist. “I’m just teasin’ ya, darlin’. You wouldn’t hurt a fly. ‘Sides, look at the bright side.” He adds. “At least the machine didn’t land on my toes.”

"You don't even have toes!" You blink and roll your eyes.

Boothill’s expression turns into a grin as he laughs, pulling you closer to him. “See? Told ya you’re the feisty one.” He teases, tilting his head to kiss your temple. He places another kiss on the top of your head, savoring the feeling of your warmth against his.

“Maybe I don’t have toes.” He begins, placing another kiss on your cheek. “But this body’s got everything else ya need.”

"See that's my Boothill..." You smile warmly. "Don't think of yourself the way you were before...and if you do...let me know?" You whisper.

As he hears your words, a soft smile forms on Boothill's face. He places a hand on your cheek, gently stroking the side of your face as his other rests on your waist.

His eyes look deep into yours with affection, and a corner of his lips quirks upwards. “That's a mighty good offer ya’re givin’ me here, darlin’. But I’d rather you stop me from thinkin’ like that before I could.”

"Now that is a better plan..." You smile before leaning in to kiss him.

Boothill’s eyes flutter to a close as your lips press against his, a warm fluttering feeling erupting in his chest. The kiss is slow and tender, and he melts against your touch as he pulls you a little closer and into his embrace.

Once the kiss ends, Boothill opens his eyes and sighs, feeling calmer and a lot more pleasant than before.

“You’re way too good for this broken ol’ geezer.” He whispers affectionately.

"Boothill...honey... you're not even old!" You laugh softly and nuzzle against him.

Boothill lets out a low chuckle, his hand gently caressing your skin as he leans into your touch. "You sure about that, darlin'? I feel like a relic with all this metal on me."

He glances down at his metallic hand, flexing his fingers. Then, he looks back at you with a smile. “But as long as you’re tellin’ me otherwise, I guess I ain’t.”

"That's what I thought~" You press a kiss to his forehead.

A smirk spreads on Boothill’s face as he watches you kiss his forehead. He lifts a hand and gently caresses your face, his thumb rubbing your skin.

“Ain’t you a precious one?” He muses, his grin widening as he gazes at you. “I reckon I ain’t that old after all.” He adds, his teasing tone laced with an affectionate edge. “What gives you the right to be so adorable?”

"I'm your girlfriend, it's my job!" You smile warmly.

Once again, Boothill’s gaze falls into yours, and he feels a flutter in his chest at your words. He rests a hand on your waist, caressing your skin with the back of his cold metal fingers.

“You’re right,” he murmurs, a warm smile spreading on his face as he nods. His eyes lock with yours, and he lifts a hand to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“And I reckon you’re doin’ a real good job at it, darlin’...” He adds, his voice low, warm and affectionate.

"Y'know... I'm always going to be here..." You smile. "Hey, hey!" You start to giggle. "I'm 'steel' here..." You joke.

Boothill lets out a loud laugh, shaking his head as you throw in a joke. He takes your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours, lifting it to his lips and planting a kiss on your knuckles.

“You’re real clever,” he murmurs, his eyes crinkling at the corners as his smile grows wider. In all honesty, he appreciates the effort you’re putting into cheering him up.

“Ain’t a doubt in me that you’d always be here for me, darlin’.”

You kiss him one more time. This time more passionate and love infused. As you pull away you smile. "I'll always...be here..."

The unexpected passion in your kiss catches Boothill off guard and leaves him breathless. As you pull away, he lets out a low gasp, his grip on your hand tightening just a little.

When you declare your promise, he presses his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he lets the moment sink in. He feels a wave of warmth wash over him, and he whispers back.

“I’ll be here for you, too, darlin’...”

🎀End🎀

[bunnwich]

It's Supposed to Be Fun

(a letter to my friends in the twst fandom)

I've been wanting to make this post for a while and these thoughts may seem scattered but I’m gonna try to express them. 

Lately, I have seen many friends and moots that either are leaving the fandom or feel guilty over not having posted in a while or losing interest in twst. On the other side, I also have friends being harassed.

This a reminder to remember why you joined this community to begin with. I know that keeping up with the fast-moving pace of fandom and comparing ourselves to others, can skew our perspective on these things.

It’s supposed to be fun. 

Why do we post art or write? Sure, partly for recognition, there's no denying that. But, why do we create, I mean really? For enjoyment. Not for others, not to be “popular” FOR JOY.

So, whether you’re dealing with people critiquing you or feeling guilty about not creating. My question is this: Why waste so much of your time on something that makes you miserable?

Did it stop being fun? Why? Haters? Loss of interest?

To my friends who feel guilty for not creating and not sure if they lost interest in twst: 

Don’t feel guilty. At one time, the creation of your twst content was natural. It's what you did for fun with friends or for yourself. Revisit that mindset and think - if creating twst content now will bring that same joy it did before.

If the answer is no, then maybe it’s time to pivot. It’s okay for interests to fade. It doesn’t mean that time, memories, or the friends you made are lost. Connect with your friends, we will understand! We still love you! It's not a race there's no time limit, just pick up were you want to. Draw fanart of old events or OCs.

To my friends who have been harassed: 

I say this with sincerity…. People who harass others over fictional characters are fucking losers.

Like… There’s no other eloquent way to encapsulate it. I’m starting to not care for the reason anymore - If you harass or be shady to others over a ship or fictional character. CONGRATS! YOU ARE A LOSER.

We all join fandoms as a hobby, for fun. We’re all just kids in the sandbox playing pretend again… and if you are the type of person to go up just to “kick the doll out of someone’s hand" or make commentary on how “their way of playing is wrong." You’re a loser. I have a life outside of twst, we all do. Someone saying my ship is wrong or cringe is just so laughable to me. We have to make fun of these people more for being so goddamn lame.

Imagine being so unhappy that when you see someone having fun you HAVE to comment on it. By all means, if it gets you through the day...talk shit to close friends or even post about it on your own blog. (THAT WAS ALWAYS ALLOWED.) Don't bother creators directly. Don't be a loser. I sure see tolerance leave people’s bodies when they see a fandom opinion they don't like. (And this is coming from someone who has lots of opinions on these things! But that's why I always put the disclaimers that, hey this is just MY opinion.)

Discussion is one thing, unhelpful comments are another. We shouldn’t give these people the time of day. Curate your online space. Yes, when you post things online you are subjecting yourself to scrutiny. But, we as creators need to stop letting these people have power over us. Period. We do this for free!! FOR FUN. The best thing you can do is create shamelessly.

Delete weird replies, block whoever you need to do to rid yourself of these people who have nothing better to do. Keep your peace. It’s supposed to be for fun. You don’t owe anyone a response.

The twst fandom is like a little family to me and I guess I feel protective over the people in it?  I have made many friends and memories because I joined it. And even dispite a handful of the negative experiences (AKA: A couple of “losers" that I’ve had to deal with.) I’ll always look fondly back on this time.

The key for me has always been to just…create for myself. I originally made bunnwich for me and one friend to make fun little arts about our Yuu’s and now I get to have lots of friends to share it with! I’ve transitioned from an OC blog to probably more of an Oc x Canon blog…but I don’t care tbh. I just…draw what I feel like. I know there are people who probably dislike me for that or feel strange about my content and that’s fine. I’m still gonna keep drawing it, loser.  

And I just want you guys to do the same, twst or not.

I can’t forget that all my followers and friends are a bonus, if I had never joined tumblr I’d still be drawing the silly shit I draw in peace. And while yes, I do want to grow as an artist and sell more merch and keep growing... I can’t forget my initial excitement for this silly little game. I like to talk about it. I like to write about it. It inspires me.

It’s supposed to be fun. Please remember that. I know it can be discouraging to have others being shitty to you. Or going through a creative drought. But, try not to let this stop you from creating what you love.

[mustainegf]

‘86 james taking your virginity but its sweet morning sex :(

OKAY I KNOW THIS REQ IS SO OLD AND IVE REWRITTEN IT SO MANY TIMES, I FINALLY THINK I COOKED UP SOMETHING REALISTIC AND EQUALLY YUMMY!!!!

𝐈 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ¹⁹⁸⁶

I gently woke to his heartbeat in my ear, firm hands safely holding my waist to his body. I hum tiredly with a smile, scooting closer to James' warmth.

It felt too good, me all tangled up in his arms like this. And here I thought that would never happen.

So instead of moving, I just lay there staring at the ceiling, smiling.

"Mmph... baby.." James grumbled, shifting slowly beneath me, our bodies still clinging together.

He tucked one arm around my back as he brought his other hand over top of me, which he rested against my forehead for a second.

"Good morning, sleepy head." His voice was a little bit rough. My smile widened. "I love you," I whispered. I couldn't help it. I had to tell him. "I love you so much." He made a soft sound in his throat.

I exhaled happily, slowly kissing his neck. I always loved laying with him like this in the morning.

Then, without warning, something poked into my inner thigh. I froze. But it wasn't painful. It was... warm? I frowned, unsure what to think or do. And then suddenly, it came to me. Of course.

Because it couldn't be anything else, right? I took a deep breath and said through my teeth, "James?" His response was more of a grunt. I swallowed and continued, "You're hard." This time, he actually did chuckle.

"And your point is?" he asked, sounding amused. I paused, trying not to laugh myself, but realizing the predicament we were in. We weren't naked; but we also weren't exactly fully clothed either. And I could feel a lot through just the fabric of his briefs.

Which meant I knew exactly how hard he was.

That didn't make me uncomfortable though. In fact, I loved the feeling of his hardness pressed against me. God, it was so hot, thinking about us doing things like this.

So the only thing I could really say was, "I'm getting harder too." I heard a slight pause before he spoke again, his voice deeper than usual now. "Are you?" I teased, a blush creeping up my face.

I smirked, knowing full well that he was already listening to every word I was saying. He huffed.

"You know damn well I am," he said. My cheeks flushed, my smile widening even more.

I reached down between my legs and found the tip of his cock, tracing a line along its length. I let out a satisfied sigh. "Mmm..." James let out another low growl. "Baby, I thought you weren't ready?"

he asked. "It's fine." I mumbled, shyly blushing. "I mean, I am." There was a long moment where neither of us moved or spoke. A mix of nervousness and anticipation settled inside of me.

"What if I don't want to wait anymore?" I asked quietly. This time he didn't respond at all. I stayed completely silent, waiting, hoping. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, James pulled away from me.

The chill in the air stung as he leaned forward and took my chin in his hand. His eyes searched mine, almost pleading. "How sure are you?" he asked softly. "I can wait until you're 100 certain."

His gaze softened as I watched him speak. "But if you don't wanna-" My lips parted as I quickly interrupted him. "No! I want to." I was practically begging, trying to communicate how bad I needed him.

All the uncertainty I'd been feeling about this decision melted away. I wanted this, I needed this. With him. Now. Not tomorrow, not next week. Now.

Right now. "Please..." I whispered, letting go of his hand. James nodded, finally understanding. He lifted himself off the bed and reached down, pulling off his boxers.

His cock sprang free and bounced a little with the movement. I stared at him, fixated. He looked incredible.

The tip glistened slightly with precum, perfectly poised and ready for whatever happened next. My eyes trailed down his toned body. Yeah sure, I'd seen him naked before, we'd been dating for a few months now, but this is the first time we'd actually be having sex. Or me at least.

James grabbed a condom from his drawer and rolled it onto his erection. When he finished, he turned back toward me. "Come on," he urged, reaching out for me.

I nodded and sat up, reaching down under my shirt to pull off my panties. James watched intently as I removed them. Once done, I laid back down on the bed, spreading my legs open wide.

His view drove him crazy, immediately dipping down to gently kiss my clit. "Mh!" I whined, not expecting the sudden feeling.

He chuckled. "That ok, baby?"

"Y-yeah, it's good. Just keep going," I moaned. He grinned against my skin and kissed me again. "Whatever you say."

I shivered at the sensation. This felt better than I ever imagined it would. I squeezed my thighs together around his head and he groaned, clearly enjoying my reaction.

"Oh yeah, that's perfect." he hummed, sending delicious vibrations across my entire pelvic area. I whimpered at the intensity of the pleasure he gave me. "Good girl..." he praised me. "So fucking wet."

I moaned, loving the compliment. The way his tongue slid over my pussy made me squirm uncontrollably. Everything felt so amazing.

His mouth was everywhere, licking and sucking. I held tight to the sheets below me, unable to hold myself still anymore. I had never felt this good.

After a while, he stopped eating me out and moved up higher. His mouth hovered above my earlobe, and he started kissing me there. Each kiss sent shocks straight down into my core. I bit my lip as he continued, desperately trying to remain quiet. It was no use though.

"It's okay baby, don't feel bad about those pretty little noises," he hummed, kissing down my collarbone.

Oh god, it felt so good. My body tensed with excitement as he continued kissing me lower, working his way towards my tits. When his mouth finally closed around one of my nipples, I couldn't help but arch my back.

He only sucked for a short while before pulling back, his mouth making a wet popping noise against my nipple. I felt a little nervous as he slowly began to position himself between my legs.

"Ready?" he asked, staring deep into my eyes. I smiled and nodded. He placed his hands on either side of me, leaning in to give me a quick kiss.

His hips pressed forward slightly, nudging the tip of his dick against my entrance. I tensed up. "Just relax, sweetie. Take a deep breath." His words were soft, gentle.

As I did exactly what he said, he pushed forward slowly. I gasped when I felt the pressure of him stretching me open. The slow progress was agonizingly pleasurable.

It wasn't long before I could feel his length fully inserted inside of me. James let out a low groan, holding himself still for a moment. "Are you okay? We can stop if you need too." I shook my head.

"Just... just give me a second..." I whimper. James took my cheeks in his hands, caressing my skin with his thumbs to comfort me, doing his best not to move whilst seated inside me.

I felt him throbbing gently within me, the sensation causing my own arousal to spike. A tremor ran through me as I instinctively tightened my inner muscles.

"Oh fuck... shit." I heard James whisper as he clenched his teeth, fighting hard to stay put. I knew how much effort it took for him and I loved him all the more for it.

"Sorry.." I giggle, knowing my clenching must have him going insane. "You can go now, just... be gentle."

He grunted in response, seeming to understand the task ahead. Carefully, he withdrew until just the tip remained. Then, he pressed back inwards, causing me to release another small moan.

He repeated this process several times, each time sliding further inside until he reached bottom.

With every thrust, I wriggled my hips underneath him. Soon enough, he found a steady rhythm.

Up and down he went, filling me over and over again. The sound of our bodies meeting was exhilarating. James leaned forward, placing his palms flat on the bed on either side of me.

Our foreheads touched and he looked me right in the eye. "How does that feel?" I couldn't speak, words failing me at this point.

Instead, I simply nodded frantically, completely overwhelmed by everything happening at once. He grinned proudly. "Good." The speed increased as his thrusts became harder. "I'm so proud of you... doin' so good."

I whimpered and arched my back. James kept pumping slowly into me, pushing me into the mattress with every stroke. My breasts bounced gently with the pace.

"Keep going baby, keep being a good girl," he panted into my ear. "Are you good to keep going? Need a break?" He asked gently, sweat trickling down his forehead as he continued with gentle pumps.

"I-it's okay... please don't stop..." I whimper, taking one of his hands in mine, clutching it tight.

"Gonna—fuck—make me cum..." James groaned, his head falling into the crook of my neck, focusing what was left of his energy.

I felt him pulsing inside me, sending jolts of pleasure throughout my whole body. I lay there beneath him, completely spent. Even after he pulled out, I still felt full.

My pussy throbbed, demanding more. "That was amazing," he whispered, wiping some hair from my face with a loving touch.

James groaned and reached down to slip the full condom off of his pulsing length. He quickly tossed it in the trash before turning back to me with a smile. However, my fingers are still working at my clit.

"What are you doing, can't help yourself, huh..." He mumbled sleepily. I blush. "I haven't cum yet..." I whine.

"Baby, you should a said something," he chuckled, dipping back down between my legs again. "Let me help."

He wasted no time in finding my clit, circling around the sensitive nub as my fingertips slipped from my body.

I spread myself wide for him, keeping my eyes shut tight as his tongue swirled around my swollen bud.

His lips wrapped around the fleshy hood and he sucked firmly. Instantly, a wave of pleasure washed over me.

My knees bent and I threw an arm over my face, stifling a scream. He started to suck even firmer, using both hands to pull the flesh taught, driving me wild.

"Fuck James! Stop, I-I'm gonna cum!" I yelp desperately, grinding my crotch against his face.

James made a loud, satisfied 'humph' noise into my soaking cunt. It sent shivers down my spine.

One last flick of his skilled tongue across my clit and I collapsed back onto the bed. I laid there, quivering and panting like a dog, staring up at the ceiling.

I hear James chuckle and get up from between my legs, pulling me up by my waist. We end up in a sloppy pile of limbs in the bed, kissing slowly.

James finally breaks away from me and sits up, patting my leg. "Come here..." I shuffle up the bed and crawl over, wrapping my arms around him.

James embraces me tightly. So here we lay, naked, breathing slow, tangled and sweaty. I took in a deep breath of his smell, kissing his cheek gently. "Thank you, Jamie..."

"Was it good? Hope I could satisfy my girl," he smiled, scoffing teasingly.

[yujinnieswifeu]

Hi I loved your bully wonyoung x gp!reader. I wanted to request a part 2 to it only if your up for it of course.

a/n: gonna combine these two requests since it’s kinda the same thing :3, and yes i can def write a part 2 to that hehe, thanks for requesting anons, had fun writing them 🤭 (someone needs to teach me how to align things properly in tumblr thanks🚶🏻‍♀️)

pairings: g!p fem reader x Wonyoung

warnings: smut, reader has a penis, Y/n cums inside Wony, Wony spitting inside of Y/n’s mouth (just once🥹)

Link to part 1:

———————————————————————————

When Wonyoung said she was not going to be as easy as the previous time, you did not expect her to keep her promise. So here you were now, in her bedroom, your hands and legs bound to the bedposts as she plays with your red and throbbing cock. “P-please can’t take it a-anymore…ahh!” You cried out for the millionth time, Wonyong has a magic wand in her hand as she tortured you to no ends. She only smirks deviously, enjoying the way your body jerks when she drags the tip of the magic wand onto your now swollen and angry tip, your breathy moans and babbles music to her ears.

“Fucking desperate bitch.” She mutters, finally pulling the vibrating toy off you. You let out a whimper, hips jerking slightly from the harsh stimulation and endless edging. “W-wony-” “Don’t call me by my name whore, it’s mistress to you, understand?” She cuts you and you nod your head desperately, pulling at the binds around your wrists as you let out a pained cry. “I-i want to cum so b-bad please!” You begged, she just chuckles at your desperation, swiping her phone out from her back pocket to capture your messed up state. “So pretty like this..” she mutters to herself, watching how you were struggling against the binds.

“Aww, is it too much for you?” Her voice was laced with faux sympathy, pouting as she nears you. You could only muster a whimper, watching as she drops her skirt to the floor, noticing how her panties has clung to her bare pussy, a damp spot between her legs. She was enjoying this as much as you. She drags her panties off slowly, satisfied when she sees you squirm on the bed. She hovers over your face this time, her hand moves down your stomach to the base of your cock, wrapping it over her fingers. You couldn’t help but jerk your hips, moaning as your eyes rolls to the back of your head at the stimulation, you were so sensitive at this point. “Move again and i’ll stop.” You whine out in response, tears prickling at your eyes as you reluctantly obeyed.

“You know what to do right pup?” Her nickname was driving you insane, the throbbing between your legs only intensifying. You start to give her small licks, watching how her breath hitches, how she has bit her bottom lip, trying to suppress her moans. “T-that’s right, good puppy.” She mocks, moving her hand up and down slowly over your cock, it makes you moan, the vibration adding to the pleasure. “Fuck, i guess your mouth is only good for one thing huh?” Her hand leaves your throbbing member, and your whimper comes out muffled as you eat her out.

Instead, her soft and slender fingers finds purchase in your hair, riding herself over your face. You could feel yourself getting even harder at the sight, letting her use you as she pleases. “F-fuck, i’m going to cum...a-ahh!” Wonyoung body jerks as she comes all over your face, you moan against her, feeling yourself being brought over the edge without any stimulation, your body shuddering underneath her and she realises what has happened. “Fuck…you really are such a loser aren’t you? Cumming without me touching you even.” She rasps out, now sliding herself off you instead, going down to where you had cummed all over yourself.

“Be my slut hm?” Her eyes locked onto yours, like a silent communication, you bit your bottom lip nervously, your cheeks turning red. “Aww, did what i say make you all flustered?” She faux a pout your way, and you only whimper in response, squirming at the restraints still. “Answer me and maybe, i’ll untie you…depending on the answer of course.” She gives you a wicked smirk, one that could make any other stranger shiver with fear, but it only makes you throb harder for her. “Y-yes..” You stutter, feeling your cheeks turn hot at the thought of being her plaything. And she didn’t really give you a choice either. “That’s a good slut.” She grabs your jaw, her face hovers yours. “Open.” Wonyoung orders, and you obey her, parting your lips as she spits into your mouth. “Swallow.” Her voice was lower than usual, watching as you swallow obediently. She could definitely get used to this.

“Since you’re so good for me…i’ll let you lead this time.” She undoes your binds, and almost instantly your hands were on her, pushing her back against the bed, your head in her hair as you take a deep breath of her, her scent evading your senses as you whine against her neck. “Can i please put it in?” You asked so nicely, so how could Wonyoung even refuse. Her hand goes down to stroke your cock that was covered in your pre-cum and cum from earlier, causing you to jerk a little, your brows furrowing as you moan against her skin. “Didn’t i say you can lead this time hm?” You shiver at her words, it all sounded too good to be true, but even if so, you would take the chance.

Without another word, you slipped yourself inside of her, you hear her let out a groan at the stretch, her fingers at the back of your neck as she brought your face to hers, kissing you deeply. It was the first time Wonyoung showed you affection, and to be honest, you liked it. “I-i need to cum soon!” You cry out, already near your high from all the edging earlier, and feeling even more sensitive as her walls flutters more around you, she brings your hand to play at her clit, and you moan at how wet she was for you. “Gonna c-cum! C-can i cum please mistress?” It comes out desperate, your hips moving in a sloppy manner as you near your orgasm. “F-fuck yes, come inside of your mistress..!” Wonyoung orders, feeling your hips stuttering as you cum inside of her. Your fingers rubbing circles at her clit and the feeling of your cum inside of her makes her cum as well, a whimper falling past her lips as she drags her nails over your back.

You had your face buried into her neck, inhaling her scent mixed with the smell of sex, not pulling out yet. She took this time to catch her breath, her fingers in your hair comfortingly. “I…i was serious about what i said earlier.” She mutters, feeling you shift as you look up at her, the back of your head resting against her shoulder. She tries not to smile at how cute you looked at that moment, realising she might have just fallen in love with you, this you, and she could get used to it. “You mean….uh..to be y-your slut?” You murmur the last part, feeling your cheeks heat up again, and she giggles.

It was genuine this time, how she looked at you, she was being real. “That too of course, but i mean..maybe..i want to get to know you more.” She says plainly, it wasn’t usual of her to be so nice to you, and since she was your bully, or used to be, it was even harder to believe this was even happening, but it was. You set that thought aside for now, noticing how it was Wonyoung’s turn to turn red, but instead of teasing her, you gave her soft kisses along her neck, burrowing your face into her neck. “That sounds really nice.”

[hisui-dreamer]

wooden charms

Pairing: Floyd Leech x gn!reader

Synopsis: His beloved Shrimpy has been avoiding him, oh what is an eel to do?

Tags: miscommunication, comfort, fluff, Floyd calls you shrimpy, jade leech is a good man<3, bot proofread

Word count: 1.3k+

Notes: floyd fluff! this eel has been occupying my mind since the camp event started hahaha

i don't love the language in this fic, so there might be changes made here and there every time i have an epiphany lol

Floyd sank into the worn-out couch, his lean figure spreading out lazily across the worn-out cushions. Dishevelled strands of teal hair cascaded untamed over his forehead, casting a shadow that mirrored the clouded thoughts in his brooding eyes. Beside him, Jade maintained an impeccable posture, emanating an aura of refined elegance.

The two settled into the plush seats of the Mostro Lounge's VIP room, their weary bodies finding respite in its luxurious embrace. It had been yet another day consumed by the relentless demands of work, leaving Floyd's nerves frayed and restless. The dim lighting cast an ethereal glow, but it did nothing to quell the tempest swirling within Floyd.

A heavy sigh escaped Floyd's lips, his voice tinged with a touch of melancholy. "Jade," he whined as he nudged his brother. "I dunno what's gotten into Shrimpy lately. I don't get it, they used to be all over me, like a little fishy clingin' to my side. But for a while now, they keep saying they’re busy and can’t spend time with me. But then I saw them hanging out with the Guppy! What's the deal?"

Jade, ever the diplomat, maintained his business-like facade, though his eyes hinted at a deeper understanding. "Floyd, relationships can be like that. It is rather odd that the prefect has been avoiding you, but I'm sure they're just extremely busy. It’s to be expected given they’re the headmaster’s errand runner…. And Epel is a first-year student, so it is likely they would study together. Just be patient, I'm sure they’ll come around."

But Floyd's eyebrows only furrowed more at Jade’s words. "But it feels like they’re ignorin' me completely! What in the world has got Shrimpy so preoccupied? It's drivin' me crazy..." he complained, absentmindedly running his hand through his messy hair. "I miss Shrimpy…," he murmured, his voice quivering with unspoken pain.

Jade's voice softened, trying to reassure Floyd. It wasn't often that he saw his brother so vulnerable. "Well, if you genuinely think something is wrong, I think you should confront them. Humans always stress that open communication is crucial in relationships," he suggested softly. "Ask them what's going on with them. Let them know how you feel. You won't change anything if you don't try to understand them. Perhaps there's a deeper reason behind their distant demeanour that you're unaware of."

Floyd sat still, absorbing Jade's words, his calm understanding offering a soothing balm to his troubled soul. He nodded slowly, the weight of their conversation sinking into him. "I guess you're right, Jade," he replied, his voice carrying a newfound determination. "I need to go talk to Shrimpy. I can't take this anymore."

The vibrant ambience of the restaurant clashed starkly with the sombre storm brewing within Floyd's soul. The cacophony of the customers' chatter and laughter grated against his raw nerves, an unwelcome intrusion on his troubled thoughts. Every incoming order felt like a burden that continued to weigh him down. With each passing moment of his arduous shift, he felt the urge to go and squeeze someone intensify.

He had desperately wanted to find you and have a heart-to-heart talk. However, Azul, ever the entrepreneurial mind, had devised yet another business venture to propel the Mostro Lounge's profits. And now, Floyd found himself trapped in a whirlwind of responsibilities, with hardly a moment to rest as he navigated managing a fresh batch of unfortunate souls who were just so useless as servers.

"Can you just hand me the damn plates already? I don't have time for this," Floyd muttered through gritted teeth, his words oozing with impatience and exasperation. The weight of his fatigue lent an edge to his voice, underscoring the strain he endured.

But then, like a ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds, you walked through the restaurant's entrance, piercing through the clouds of his irritation. Floyd's eyes widened, a wide grin stretching across his fatigued face, erasing all traces of weariness.

"Shrimpy!" Floyd exclaimed, his lazy drawl transformed into an exuberant melody. Ignoring the bustling crowd around him, he darted towards you with infectious enthusiasm. "You're here! Did you miss me?" He spoke eagerly, closing the distance between you.

In a surge of affection, Floyd enfolded you in his embrace. His arms wrapped around you tightly, fearing you’d suddenly disappear. Soon, he sensed your tapping on his back, a gentle reminder that his hugs were too strong and you struggled to breathe. He reflexively released his hold, though he remained intimately close.

"Hahaha, I missed you too, Floyd," you laughed, unable to resist his endearing antics. The sound of your laughter erased any trace of the weariness that had burdened him moments before.

"I've missed you too, Shrimpy. I haven’t seen you in so long!" he giggled, before remembering what had troubled him and pulling back. "You kept hanging out with Guppy and ignoring me!" he accused, a hint of lingering frustration colouring his words.

"Oh, Floyd, I'm sorry," you murmured, reaching up to delicately cup his cheek. His face instinctively leaned into your touch, melting at your warm touch. "I had something to do, and I needed Epel's help, but I promise I can spend more time with you now." The warmth in your voice carried the reassurance he longed for, gradually easing the tension between you.

At your words, Floyd visibly lit up with a flicker of excitement and relief. "Really? That's great!" he exclaimed, a joyous sparkle igniting in his eyes. "Now I have Shrimpy all to myself again!" With a burst of enthusiasm, he grasped your hands and shook them.

But then, his attention was drawn to the peculiar texture beneath his touch. Floyd's gaze shifted to your hands, his eyes widening as he noticed the bandages delicately wrapped around your fingers. A flicker of anger kindled within him, fuelled by a potent blend of concern and protectiveness.

"What happened to your fingers, Shrimpy?" Floyd's voice trembled with a mixture of anger and worry, his brows furrowing.

You gathered the courage to explain, recognizing the need to calm his simmering anger before he took it out on someone. "It's nothing serious, really," you began, your voice gentle yet tinged with a hint of defensiveness. "I just... I wasn't careful enough. I know it looks bad, but please, don't be angry. It was purely accidental."

Floyd's anger began to wane, replaced by a cautious curiosity as he leaned in, eager to understand the circumstances surrounding your injuries. His tone softened as he asked, "What were you doing that hurt you? Tell me, Shrimpy."

A sheepish smile graced your lips as you reached into your pocket, retrieving a meticulously crafted wooden shrimp charm, intricately carved with precision and love. "Well," you began, a touch of uncertainty in your words, "I wanted to make something special for us, something that would remind you of me when I’m not around. I thought maybe phone charms would be something you would always carry around, so I made this," you explained.

With a deft and fluid motion, your other hand retrieved your phone, revealing a dangling eel charm attached to it. "See?" you whispered, a hint of vulnerability lacing your voice. "I know it’s not the prettiest, but we can match, Floyd."

As Floyd's eyes took in the shrimp and eel charms, his features softened, his anger dissipating like a receding tide. A surge of affection and understanding washed over Floyd, and he reached out to carefully take the wooden shrimp charm, his fingertips brushing against yours as he did so.

"Shrimpy," Floyd spoke softly, his voice filled with newfound tenderness. "I had no idea... This is so cool! You made that for me?"

You smiled at his reaction. "Yeah, I don't really have enough money to buy fancy gifts, and handmade gifts are always more heartfelt, don't you think?"

He encircled you in his embrace once more, this time more delicate and loving. "Thank you, Shrimpy," he murmured, his voice carrying a depth of emotion. "I’ll keep your Shrimpy charm safe."

As he drew back slightly, you noticed a slight pout gracing his features. "But please don’t avoid me again, okay?" he whined, before mushing his cheek against the top of your head.

"It's unbearable without you," he murmured.

[blaydie]

ᥫ᭡ A (FAKE) DOCTOR’S ORDER — “It’s just a cough.” Aventurine x Dr. Ratio (MLM)

Word count: 1.3k

Contains: MLM, Aventurine x Dr. Ratio, ill Ratio, Aventurine caring for Ratio, not-so-subtle flirting, affection, kissing, cuddles, caresses + more.

A/N: The Aventio/Ratiorine brain worm made me write this. Art cred: @/meronppaii (X)

It was a usual day for Aventurine. After all, he’s always willing to push his luck to see how far he can get. Forcing open the handle of Ratio’s office, he prepares to chime his usual greeting until his eyes meet with a seemingly unconscious torso resting atop the somewhat cluttered desk.

“What the— Are you—” Aventurine pauses, immediately looking around to assess the situation. “Veritas. It’s not funny.”

Despite several attempts of communication, there was still no response. Not even a murmur. Rushing over to the body, his hands fumble as he searches for a pulse. Ratio stirs, a low grumble escaping his lips. Aventurine scoffs, instinctively retracting his hands as Ratio forces himself up straight. 

“Well? What was all that about? I thought you were dead.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m—” Before he could finish his sentence, he began uncontrollably coughing, spluttering on his words.

“You look awful. Should you be working like this?”

“It’s just a cough.”

“A cough. Right. There’s no colour on your face. I’ve never seen you look so sick before.” Aventurine leans against the desk, moving the scattered paperwork into the correct piles. “You should get some rest.”

“I don’t need you telling me what to do.” Ratio sneers, snatching away the work documents from Aventurine who was likely to have already destroyed their order.

“I’ll get you some tea then.” 

“Don’t bother. I’m sure that wouldn’t help anyone.”

“You know I’m capable of doing things, don’t you? I’ve taken care of myself from a young age. Who do you think looks after me when I get ill?”

“…” Ratio rubs his forehead, recognising his wording may have come across as too snarky. “I don’t like sugar in my tea.”

“I wasn’t putting sugar in it anyway.” Aventurine sighs, a lengthy exhale as he heads towards Ratio’s kitchen. While he won’t directly admit it, the occasional belittlement does sting—like a gash straight across a bare chest. All he wanted to do was help, after all.

An herbal tea intended to soothe clogged sinuses was in the process of being concocted. Whether it be the flu or a cold, it should help ease his airways and prevent further mucus buildup. The tea was steaming, perfected to the best of his ability. Taking the mug, he returns to Ratio’s office, placing it on the desk.

“Thank you.”

“I thought I’d never see the day.” Aventurine snickers, pulling a spare chair to the opposite side.

“This doesn’t—” With the mug hovering by his mouth, Ratio hesitates to take a sip.

“I know. It doesn’t smell good—it doesn’t taste good either. It’s not supposed to.”

With Aventurine’s eyes glued to him, he takes a deep breath and sips the tea. Unbeknownst to him, it wasn’t as bad as he was anticipating. It was drinkable, to say the least. Despite the warm liquid soothing his throat, the chesty cough persists, making the dull ache in his throat grow stronger.

“I was coming to ask you if you wanted to go out for a drink, but it looks like that will have to wait for another time. Shame.” Aventurine taps a pen against the desk, revealing the doodles left in the corner of Ratio’s notebook. 

“Were you? Or was that part of something you had planned?”

“Oh, how hurtful, Veritas. Can I not take a good friend out for fun anymore?”

“You always have something planned. Do not act coy.”

“Fine. But, the offer for drinks is still on the table. When you’re feeling better, of course.”

“I’ll consider it.” Ratio places the mug down, rising to his feet. His hands clutch the desk, veins protruding as his grip hardens.

“Do you need any—” Aventurine stands, reaching out to stabilise Ratio’s hunched body. A hand swats him away, leaving him standing there unamused.

“Look down.” Ratio speaks, suddenly dishing ominous orders out.

“Where exactly?” Aventurine’s eyes scan Ratio’s lower half, darting from his crotch to his sandals.

“Do you see?”

“See…?” Aventurine cocks his head aside, still unsure of what he’s intended to be looking at.

“I have a pair of functioning legs. I don’t need any assistance with walking.” Ratio brushes past Aventurine as he hobbles towards the door, his forehead pressed against the frame when he eventually makes it.

“You…” Aventurine pinches the skin between his brows, placing his hand in the middle of Ratio’s aching shoulder blades. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Lacking the energy to protest, he grants Aventurine permission to guide him to the bedroom. Now inside of the elegant room after navigating through the winding hallway, Aventurine strides towards the bed, unwrapping Ratio’s arm from around his neck. That’s until he was met with a slight issue. No matter the amount of strength he exerted in trying to pry Ratio’s arm from around him, it wouldn’t budge.

Suddenly, the two bodies topple down onto the mattress. Flustered by the abrupt tumble, Aventurine attempts to scramble from atop Ratio’s body, but the arm remains locking him in place.

“You’re not talking. Do you want me to play doctor or something?” Aventurine gazes down at Ratio whose expression remains unchanged. Somehow, that sight heightens his nerves.

“I feel unwell.” Ratio’s finger twirls around the longer strands of Aventurine’s hair before travelling down his face, cupping his cheek.

“Here, let me check your temperature.” Sweeping back Ratio’s hair, he plants his palm flat against his forehead. “You’re warm.”

“That doesn’t work when your hands are cold. I’m bound to feel warm.” Ratio chuckles, a sweet sound carrying no malice. Redirecting Aventurine’s hand, he leaves it resting on his chest. “You aren’t doing bad. It was a fair try.” 

“You’re being too kind. Are you sure you’re not the one with a secret plan?”

“There is no plan. All that I’m stating is simply the truth.”

Aventurine’s eyes glimmer, his lips curving up as Ratio’s sincere praise replays in his mind. Though they often butt heads, it’s hard to deny that the connection between them exists. Neither one of them is that unintelligent. The ability to suppress their emotions, however, is something they both lack. A force too powerful to combat.

Much like the gem, Aventurine had a beautiful glow to him. His facial features create a composition that works in perfect harmony. Ratio would never admit that though, not outwardly. Perhaps he’ll make him work harder if he wishes to find that information out. He knows he is far more than capable.

Drawing closer, Ratio’s breath ghosts Aventurine’s face. His eyes are locked onto his lips which had been freshly moistened. He wasn’t stupid at all. Closing the distance, their mouths join. Ratio’s breath hitches, readjusting his position as Aventurine leans all of his body weight down. It was always so intense with him; nothing ever starts slow.

Nipping at Ratio’s bottom lip, Aventurine’s tongue meets with his, deepening the kiss drastically. If Ratio wasn’t hot previously, he certainly was now. The heat was radiating from him, causing Aventurine to tug at his own clothes for some air.

Eventually pulling away, Aventurine’s chest rises and falls rapidly, his pupils blown out from the intimate experience shared. His eyes travel down to Ratio’s hands which are gently massaging his hips, thumbs swirling circles across his skin as they slipped under his clothes. A cough sounds out, snapping them both back to reality.

“Wait. Won’t I get sick too?” Aventurine wipes his lips clean, although the action is already irreversible. 

“It’s likely. I’ll take care of you if that’s the case.” Tugging him down by the arm, Ratio traps Aventurine in an embrace, one of his legs wrapped over his. Within seconds, he senses his body relax, his cheek resting on the mess of blond hair on top of him. Aventurine’s heartbeat slows—all feelings and thoughts are overwhelmed by burning compassion. Although he cannot see his face, Ratio can picture the soft expression, regardless of the lack of evidence. “Stay with me tonight.”

[burr-ell]

I'll preface this by saying that I don't by any means begrudge anyone their own personal headcanons or interpretations, but I kinda have to get it off my chest that I'm personally not very comfortable with significant deviations from canon character design on CR, and I really tend to side-eye people who have declared their fanart to be "better".

And sure, some of that is because i'm a cranky old bastard. But some of that is that I also have an animation degree and have studied character design. Creators generally give artists a fair amount of input as to how they want their designs to connote the characters' personalities—not just in terms of clothing or hairstyle, but in the overall shape of the silhouettes and body structures. And in the case of CR in particular, that's coming from a place of much closer familiarity with the characters because the creator is actually going to be embodying them for a fairly long period of time, so when the fan response is heavy deviation from that, I think it can feed into some unhealthy fanon perceptions and projections.

Like, for example, it's not so much that I think fanartists are "disrespecting the creators" or whatever when they keep giving Imogen a sweet little round face and big hips/breasts and cute circular glasses, but I've also studied shape language in art. You're communicating something when you design her this way; if a character's silhouette has a lot of circles, visually that connotes being friendly, sweet, and cute. The person who first suggested drawing her with glasses explicitly said they thought it would look cute—and no shade to them! They can like whatever they want!

But canonically, Imogen is a woman in her 20s who's been dealing with unanswered questions, abandonment, loneliness, and sheer exhaustion from trying to hold back and control powers that she never asked for—and who simultaneously uses those powers even when it isn't necessary if she thinks it'll help her achieve a goal or prove a point. She isn't unfriendly, and she wants to do the right thing, but she's also someone who's consciously chosen to keep to herself for most of her life, and yet simultaneously she's quite adept at persuading and deceiving people. I think we're meant to pick up that sense of world-weariness and cynicism from her angular facial features and thin frame. That's...kind of just how character design works.

I think the trend of disregarding the official art and giving her softer features has had an impact on the perception of Imogen as a character. I see a lot of views of her that really remove a lot of her agency, treating her like she's only ever been a victim of circumstance who's never put a foot wrong. Some fans got pushback for pointing out that it really wasn't cool for Imogen to openly contemplate whether or not the Ruby Vanguard might be right in front of three people who were killed by Otohan, insisting that imogen was just dealing with a lot right then. And yes, she was, but that doesn't mean that the way she was dealing with it doesn't say something about her as a character. I don't know if I'd call it coddling, necessarily (even though perhaps there are some very coddling takes I just haven't seen), but there seems to be some resistance, in some circles, to the idea that Imogen isn't a put-upon martyr. And in those same circles, round friendly-looking glasses-wearing Imogen abounds, to the point of editing the official art itself to "fix it".

Truth be told I'd be willing to bet that the rounder cuter Imogen actually came about because of the initial impression of her, given how much fanon at the start of c3 revolved around poor baby Imogen with her scary nightmares needing the wiser, worldlier Laudna to comfort her and kiss it better, but those visuals also proliferated rather quickly and well beyond past the point where that fanon was feasible anymore, and I think both aspects of that fanon ended up informing each other. It's not lost on me that the rounder and cuter-looking Imogen performs the literal function of sanding down her harder edges.

And like I said, I'm not here to be needlessly negative toward what other people want to do. If you want to draw the characters differently to their official art, I don't think either the cast or the artist are especially offended by it. But I personally dislike it, in part because I think some of these trends are a way for fans to claim a certain amount of ownership over the characters, whether they intend it or not. And the ultimate outcome of that is that when creators inevitably assert their ownership over a deeply personal story in a way that fans don't like, the backlash is much stronger than it reasonably should be, which is something I think the CR fandom has seen often enough not to continue doing as often as it does.

[indigovigilance]

This has been eating at my brain for 5 minutes, but why does aziraphale wear reading glasses sometimes. Is it for aesthetic? Is it their eyesight? Help

Hi @electronicturtlepaper, thanks for the ask! I gave this some thought, and I propose four reasons that Aziraphale wears reading glasses:

Aziraphale imagines himself having a 50-year old human body

He likes doing things the human way

They are integral to his enjoyment of art

He uses them to communicate with Crowley

Expanded arguments and evidence, as always, below the cut:

Aziraphale likes to imagine that he is a 50-year old human.

I think there's a little bit of a tendency to think of the ineffables as being superhuman. They are, but not the way Superman or Wonderwoman are. We get the best illustration of this in S1E6 when Crowley is driving through the M-25 inferno:

Crowley has something no other demons have, an imagination. Right now, he's imagining that he is just fine, and that a ton of burning metal, rubber and leather is a fully functioning car.

We know from this Season 1 scene that Crowley's imagination manifests reality; in this particular instance, it is to defy the laws of physics, to keep his body from discorporating and his car from falling apart.

Even though the way it's being used feels "super," we can see how the mechanic of "imagination manifests reality" could be used in the exact opposite way by someone who likes to think of themselves as a homely, affable pillar of the community that has owned the bookshop on the corner for as long as anyone can remember. We see other ways this manifests, like not being able to keep up with Gabriel while jogging:

He could think of himself as a battle-ready soldier, but he doesn't. He thinks of himself as someone who likes culture, good food, and fine clothes; cardio doesn't really play into that, so his corporeal form manifests accordingly. By the same token, he's an avid reader, and as far as his Whickber Street neighbors are concerned, has spent all day, every day reading books for the past no-one-knows-how-long; how would he not need reading glasses?

By sheer power of imagination, Aziraphale has manifested himself into needing corrected vision.

Aziraphale Likes Doing Things the Human Way

Keep in mind that this is the angel who absolutely did not fool Nefertiti with a single caraway seed and three cowrie shells, but he sure did put his whole entire soul into learning prestidigitation from the best human magicians of their day, and took French lessons so that he could ask his aunt's gardener for a pen.

Wearing reading glasses to read is part and parcel to a 50-year-old man running a bookshop. Miracling himself some Lasik eye surgery would be cheating, just like using a miracle to make the farthing vanish in a sleight of hand trick. In order to do something the human way, all the normal human handicaps must apply, including myopia.

Aziraphale's Enjoyment of Art is Enhanced by Wearing Glasses

I also think that Aziraphale considers wearing eyeglasses to be an integral part of the human experience of the joy of literature; reading a novel without peering at the page through silica lenses framed by metal wire would be like eating sushi without dipping it in soy sauce. The experience would be incomplete.

But, then again, look at this dork:

He's wearing his glasses to listen to music. Clearly this isn't necessary or even helpful (but as someone who has taken off their glasses so they can listen better to somebody, I can assure you it's very human). So this tells us that Aziraphale's glasses are, among other things, his "I'm enjoying art right now" accessory.

This is further reinforced in the following beat, when he's opened the door, and he's not wearing his glasses anymore:

So sometime between turning off the gramophone and opening the door for Gabriel, he took off his glasses to signal that he has quit shastakovich.exe and is returning to "normal adult responsibilities" mode.

Aziraphale Uses His Glasses To Communicate

...and we know exactly who he learned this from: @goodomensgifs credited for this wonderful gifset, hereafter incorporated by reference because my computer is so mad at me rn and can't handle loading gifs.

Crowley uses his glasses to communicate his emotions a lot. He uses them to show vulnerability. He uses them to show contentment. He uses them to threaten. He uses them to show that he is wounded and defensive. He uses them to demonstrate that he is or is not willing to talk. Aziraphale has learned from the best.

The first time we see Aziraphale leverage his lenses this way in Season 2 is when Crowley returns to the shop after their fight about Gabriel. When he's alone, waiting for Crowley to return, Aziraphale isn't wearing his glasses:

but quickly puts them on when Crowley walks in the door:

Quite a few analysts have published metas on equivocation (@cobragardens and @ao3cassandraic, maybe we should start using an #equivocation tag? Because this is becoming a recurring topic), which I incorporate here by reference. Crowley and Aziraphale have had to learn to communicate without saying a lot of things out loud, and glasses are playing a role in that.

By putting on his glasses, Aziraphale has just put up a big "I'm feeling hurt and defensive" sign; at the same time, Crowley takes his glasses off, to signal that he's ready to talk. Aziraphale peers through his glasses while he's pretending to ignore Crowley, reinforcing that his glasses are assisting him in demonstrating his umbrage.

Aziraphale finally takes his glasses off to tell Crowley that his "you were right" wasn't a good enough apology:

At this point in the conversation, the angel is allowing himself to be more vulnerable and show just how upset he is.

This evidence is taken from limited samples, but it fits with the general dynamic of the characters observed elsewhere.

Thanks for the great prompt, I never would have done this exploration otherwise but it was very rewarding.

Good Omentober!

~~~~~~

If you liked this, you may like:

Clothes + Equivocation = Romance by @cobragardens

The Colors of Crowley by @cobragardens

The Golden Lion by @cobragardens

Angel Pinky Rings by yours truly, @indigovigilance

...and any fan is welcome to drop an analysis request in my askbox!

[peripaltepsy]

BEWARE OF "body mod advices" - they can be dangerous and LETHAL.

(this post was about a deactivated blog but extends to any possible future blog like it)

edit3 since he deactivated: Red told me in the DMs that he WILL be more careful about all this risk stuff, I believe he is going to do better. Im sure he's a good person and he also was extremely civil in the DMs. Since he's not here to defend himself anymore I'll gladly take his side and say that despite this mess, all Red wanted to do was indeed reduce harm and potentially save lives. Good luck on all your endeavors, Red, I wish you a beautiful and successful career and that you have a great positive impact in the atypical dysphoria community, both on and offline. I don't know how my post truly impacted you, I'm so sorry if you're feeling bad. You acted the best way you possibly could.

Second, if Red comes back, DO NOT HARASS HIM, let him be himself and don't let his past hold them down.

Third, all my points still stand for their deactivated blog and any potential body mod tips blogs in the future. Please everyone, take care, stay safe.

Past edit: DONT HARASS any possible blogs like hers, just REPORT and spread awareness, (also don't make the same mistakes as me: TALK TO THEM FIRST)

Past edit: minors please interact with this post, forget my bio for this one

Past edit: editing editing the post since I talked to Red and he isn't bait. I definitely should have talked to them in DMs first. I sincerely apologize. So sorry Red! To those reading, don't make the same mistake as me, ok? Always talk to people privately first, I genuinely fucked up bad. This mistake of assuming others intentions, can traumatize them. If I were in Red's shoes I'd be traumatized. So yeah, I fucked up bad.

Their intentions are genuine but my point still stands that its extremely dangerous and can't qualify as harm-reduction / end edit note

alright, I'm not transid/radqueer but you guys need to REPORT AND WARN OTHERS of these accounts as soon as they appear. Do not entertain them, no matter how desperate you are to transition. You can become a victim of dangerous charlatanism.

LONG POST AHEAD, VERY IMPORTANT NEVERTHELESS

Archive to what i'm about to post

Red claimed to be "a non-professional surgeon, planning on getting better with practice." Bad move!

Red has told me he's pursuing a medical degree and won't actually do non-qualified surgery.

.

Red: "The blog is centered around an idea of "extreme" body mods that I would like to explore further, [...] things like breaking and re-mending bones, creating new joints, replacing skin, etc."

My point: the road to hell is paved with good intentions, and your blog was unsafe.

.

To any possible counterarguments: "But they (people following/asking advice) know the risks!" That's victim-blaming. Red gave himself the responsibility to give harm-reducing advice, but he didn't do a good job.

"But I know the risks!" You can't possibly know the risks because Red doesn't know either or "kinda knows" but has not properly informed his audience, it didnt give sources, oversimplified their advice and failed to provide accurate information about risk. Or gave plain misinformation.

Again I'm not transid, I can't possibly imagine what you're going through in order to try anything at all to feel better, including trying experimental surgery not legally available or not researched at all. However, please please please do not become a victim of medical deceit or whatever tf it's called. Even if the blog owner tries their best to be reliable.

They might sound confident, but they do not know what they are saying, what they're telling others to do.

.

Ask: "How would I make my skin gray without tattoos?" (DO NOT SHAME THIS USER BTW)

Red: "[...] I assume you want permanent grey. To do this, it's pretty simple, although it'll take a lot of time. Basically, what you want to do is to constantly be exposed to lots of silver. Any product with silver in it like specific lotions and skin creams. also fish, milk, mushrooms, and whole grains tend to have silver in them! So tldr, consume lots of silver!"

STOP!!! DONT FOLLOW THIS ADVICE!!! DONT OVER-EXPOSE YOURSELF TO SILVER!!! "Silver toxicity causes argyria. Silver toxicity occurs when too much silver is in your body." <- from a simple research on "too much silver in blood"

THE RESULT WILL BE ARGYRIA. EVEN IF YOU DO IT SLOWLY, YOU ARE BUILDING UP A HEAVY METAL IN YOUR BODY. THE GREY SKIN IS NOT PRETTY NOR WITHOUT GRUESOME SIDE SYMPTOMS.

Yall. Anything in excess will fuck up your body, including iron, vitamins, and silver.

To whoever asked Red, I don't know your mind, but I'm sure you'd love to live a happy life with grey skin! You'd love to have a body you're comfortable with and looks rad as hell! But you wouldn't be able to enjoy it if you're deeply sick with ARGYRIA, WHICH IS WHAT RED'S ADVICE WILL GIVE YOU!

.

Ask: "How do I get darker skin without going too dark? I’m pale and burn easily, I just want a color similar to Lin Manuel Miranda" (AGAIN DONT HARASS THIS USER)

Red: [...] "expose yourself to the sun more! As you do this, you'll get tan which will protect you from future burns and make your skin slightly darker, do this enough and you can engineer your skin to be as dark as you want!"

THATS MISINFORMATION! Yes you may tan to get darker (Lin's tone may or may not be achievable to you) but one: it's not permanent unless you're constantly going out; two: SKIN CANCER!!!! DONT OVER-EXPOSE YOURSELF TO THE SUN!!!! USE SUNSCREEN!!

TO ANYONE SEEKING A MUCH DARKER TONE: YOU CAN'T "GO AS DARK AS YOU WANT TO" BY TANNING. Just look at people who have lived their whole lives outdoors like farmers! White people can't tan to black! There's a limit to how tan you may get! Are you seriously gonna risk skin cancer for an impossible thing???

.

Red: "Self amputation is really dangerous! You should learn how to use a tourniquet, that way, you can stop the bleeding! [...]" WHERE ARE YOU GETTING YOUR SOURCES, RED?

If anyone reading this is seriously thinking of amputating themselves, and will not change their minds no matter what, please just have someone immediately drive you to the hospital. I do not support such operation and you can still die or get horribly sick even with your best precautions, but you better receive actual medical attention and stay alive rather than trying to heal it yourself. Because what you'll most likely get from following Red's advice is DEATH FROM BLOOD LOSS. Again, if you absolutely cannot get rid of this dysphoria with therapy, or manage it at least, or have a doctor do it for you, I still would NEVER suggest you do it yourself, but IF you end up doing that then at least please go straight to the hospital instead of trying to heal it yourself.

.

Red: "do not try and break your own bones to make modifications! [...] Get another person (Like myself) to help you with the bone breakage instead."

NO ONE KNOWS WTF THEY'RE DOING. YOUR FRIEND DOESN'T. RED DOESN'T (as they advertised in the post). NO ONE IS GOING TO GET MODIFICATIONS LIKE THIS. NO ONE IS GOING TO BE HAPPY. EVERYONE IS GOING TO BE EITHER IN PAIN, RISK OF HORRIBLE INJURIES OR TROUBLE WITH THE LAW. FUCKING AROUND = GUARANTEED BOTCHED OPERATION.

Also, now that Red has clarified she won't perform surgery until having an actual degree, you can't really go to her XD

.

Red: "Some advice for surgery [...] This one's important, make sure your patient is strapped down and properly sedated, if they move, even slightly, you risk hitting a vital artery or organ, if you do hit an artery, don't panic, this is why you learned how to use a tourniquet! if you hit a vital organ though, odds are you won't know how to fix that, so be extra careful with abdomen and face surgery!"

Thats still promoting medical malpractice, mutilating and potentially killing friends, dangerously downplaying surgery so much, this is not harm-reduction

.

Ask: "I want to be blind in one eye, but more-so in the sense of extreme but not total vision loss. I want to do something permanent in the future!" (AGAIN DONT HARASS THIS USER)

Red: Well, a simple fix to your problem is just get some calcium hydroxide in your eye and wash it out a few minutes later, this should lead to permanent, extreme (but not total) vision loss in that eye. Keep it in too long and it can cause total vision loss so be careful!

Ok so, it's great that you're trying to come up with alternative ways for users not to kill themselves by gouging their eyes out, but you've still failed to give them the full picture

From a quick search "calcium hydroxide in the eyes": Exposure to the skin can produce burns, painful irritation and necrosis, and exposure to the eyes may cause severe pain and vision loss that can be temporary or permanent. If calcium hydroxide is exposed to the skin, contaminated clothing should be removed, excess amounts of the chemical should be wiped off and the affected skin should be flushed repeatedly with water. Victims of calcium hydroxide exposure to the eyes should flush their eyes with water continuously for the first 15 minutes, but all cases of external exposure should receive immediate medical care. Inhaling calcium hydroxide through the nose or mouth can also cause immediate, painful and potentially life-threatening complications. Throat and nasal passages may become painful and swollen, and the swelling may restrict airways, making breathing difficult or impossible. If the calcium hydroxide particles are carried all the way to the lungs, this may further complicate breathing. Victims of this type of exposure should be taken immediately to a fresh air environment, and emergency services should be contacted right away. Administration of oxygen and emergency respiratory assistance may be required.

.

Red (answering an ask): "the question shouldn't be what DO people replace their skin with, it should be what CAN they, after all, just because it's never been practiced or very rarely practiced doesn't mean it's bad or impossible! Of course, my personal favorite skin substitutes are rubber and red velvet, I am also a big fan of stainless steel."

(Don't promote such an operation). THIS OPERATION IS BAD AND IMPOSSIBLE TO SUCCEED. SKIN CAN ONLY BE REPLACED WITH SKIN. SKIN IS A LIVING ORGAN. ANY OTHER SUBSTITUTE WILL CAUSE YOU TO LOSE BODY PARTS OR DIE.

YOU KNOW HOW PEOPLE WITH TRANSPLANTS NEED LIFE-LONG MEDICAL ATTENTION SO THEIR BODY DOESN'T REJECT IT? HOW TF WILL YOU DO THIS WITH FUCKING RED VELVET?

YOU WILL FUCK UP YOUR BODY'S IMMUNE SYSTEM A THOUSAND DIFFERENT WAYS.

ANYWAYS. CROSSTAGGING FOR REACH. PLEASE EVERYONE REBLOG. THIS IS SERIOUS SHIT.

[findmeinthefallair]

Hunter's Possession Scenes and the Theme of Enmeshment

The usual warnings: explorations of trauma and abuse ahead.

Enmeshment happens when there is the lack of boundaries and lack of defined roles in a family system, and the party with more power, usually the parents/caregivers, prevents a child from becoming their own person independent of the family (this is called individuation or differentiation). Enmeshment leads to a low level of individuation/differentiation because the kid will suffer negative consequences if they try to do so. Which sucks, because we need to become our own person in order to truly love and be loved.

Belos requires Hunter to follow a strict script

and only operate within the confines of the role of Caleb (more accurately, how Philip wants Caleb to be...so, not the real Caleb, though Belos has told himself that's the true version of his brother).

Amity went through similar with Odalia and has been in the process of breaking out of it too. I notice Luz and Willow also get a bit close to experiencing it with their parents: Camila initially getting Luz to conform, Willow's dads initially not allowing her to be on the Plant Magic track. But I need to make the important distinction where I think Belos and Odalia (with Alador enabling Odalia's behaviour while also being abused by her) really crossed the line, because they don't even allow the kids under their care to express their thoughts. They flat out dismiss whatever isn't fitting into their agendas, whereas I can trust that Camila, Gilbert and Harvey, who wound up remorseful about their actions and changing, at least allow their kids to voice their opinions safely and they are the kind of caregiver that'll at least say e.g. "I understand that you want X, but ______".

In enmeshment, the toxic parental figure does not know (or refuses to know) the boundary line where their own being ends and the being of their kid begins: this can lead to issues such as a parentified kid who has to manage the parents' emotions for them. Very sadly, this can also be why when these kids are well into adulthood, they are still terrified of their parents and regress into the same child-like responses they had as kids in their toxic parents' presence.

In the show, I think the two visual concepts that most strongly convey the concept of enmeshment vs. trying to break away from it, are Hunter seeing Belos in the mirror and Belos taking control of his physical body:

Parental figures who are enmeshed with their child feel that their kid is them, has to be them, with the same desires, feelings, beliefs, perspectives...not a separate person. If not, the parental figure's own sense of security feels threatened. So if the child tries to create needed space or establish that boundary line by putting up resistance in any form, you get a tantrum/begging/manipulation/other toxic response from the parent (example: Hunter mentions wild magic in front of Belos and is physically threatened), which then aggravates the child's anxiety and wears down their mental health.

The parental figure takes up more space than they should have in the dynamic, while the kid is boxed in more and more. Obviously such treatment is hazardous and puts an awful strain on the person in the relationship who has less power.

Which brings us to Belos getting desperate enough to possess Hunter.

A.k.a. peak enmeshment, as Belos did not have any proper grip on his 'nephew' anymore, and turned things up to the max to exert control by literally inhabiting his physical being, giving him no choice but to do his bidding in the most forceful way possible:

Put simply, you aren't you when in the midst of enmeshment. The worse the enmeshment, the more imposing the control of the toxic parent/caregiver. And wow when I first saw this scene unfold before my eyes, I immediately thought of how powerfully this concept was being visually communicated via fiction. So unnerving. The crew and of course Zeno Robinson have been so good at bringing his enmeshment-related behaviour to life onscreen. E.g. the contrast below...Hunter cracking under the terror in the first few days of truly breaking out of enmeshment in the left-side frame below, versus the right-side showing his post-possession (very literally translated as post-enmeshment) grief which was so painful that simmering, volatile anger rose up in him to keep the pain at bay:

This gentle, kind-hearted kid never wanted this. The worst thing about going through that and resisting it by running away from the coven and the Isles, was that it culminated into losing his best friend.

His way out of the loneliness and isolation of enmeshment was finding his tribe and leaning into it for support and healthy closeness. There couldn't be stronger symbolism for the tension in Hunter's whole arc, between isolation (the abuse he suffered) vs. feeling like part of a family (a healthy "tribe") than this:

Wolves. Loving, nurturing pack animals. Who "make great parents". Yet we have the phrase "lone wolf" since wolves do occasionally navigate part of life on their own. Hunter is drawn to wolves because it strikes him right away, he sees himself (more accurately, the deepest desire of where he'd love to be) in the way such creatures usually live.

And the bonds in his pack became mighty. Hunter succeeded at building trust with the Hexsquad, getting nearer and nearer to the core of himself - while Belos didn't have a single trusting relationship with anyone and sunk lower and lower, getting further and further from himself as his self-deception only got worse. Hunter built up what can be referred to as "emotional equity" in his relationships, and he's so inspirational especially in the uncertain, risky early stages of doing this:

It's like repeatedly depositing into a bank account (both sides in a relationship need to do this, in a manner that both can agree on as fair) and building up the amount in said account with positive experiences and investing effort and time into the relationship. Various difficulties and conflicts that come along will take small or big chunks out of that bank balance. More serious incidents will obviously threaten to break the relationship apart and empty the account or send the balance into the negative. The bond between Hunter and his friends was strong enough to withstand the eventual traumatic loss that they all suffered:

In fact, he was already putting up a quiet resistance in Belos's absence (I'm relieved Belos didn't require that he be escorted on every single mission or be surveilled all the time in his own room, which would've granted him no privacy to express such thoughts), shortly after we saw him get unmasked:

Unfortunately, wrenching yourself free from the violating nature of enmeshment comes at a physical and emotional cost. It can no doubt be a long journey, an injurious experience, damaging one's sense of discernment of who to trust. It doesn't magically become bright and easy post-enmeshment because grief, confusion, emptiness etc are still present, just in different forms. Hopefully it is the intensity of all that which is reduced and well-managed.

The hope is that Hunter does not feel any impulse to want to over-isolate and hurt himself with concerning self-deprecating thoughts and engage in concerning behaviour (which could be a parallel to how he wanted to dig his own grave in Eclipse Lake), especially as he is still processing the moral injury of harming Flapjack and threatening the others while possessed.

[yueisyum]

Don’t Think About It

genre🧣friends trip au, enemies-ish (not really) to lovers?, needed an excuse to wire for this sexy man, fluff,

pairings ☃️ drunk conflicted donghyuck x conflicted reader

warnings ☃️ borderline smut/⚠️ dry humming. Groping. And making out.

info ☃️ hello! Please if you are a writer reading this please please please!!!! Tell me if you see anything I could improve. Or even if your not a writer. If you have an opinion share it! That would be greatly appreciated! 💪🏽😚

synopsis - your friends go out to find a ice skating rink to rent for the next day. all your college friends who will be joining later on. But while they are gone, your stuck with donghyuck, the idiot you’ve been secretly eyeing for a while now. He finally informs you on his recent conflicting thoughts.

🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊

“Are you out of your mind?” you ask pressing your palm against his forehead to check for an unusual temperature, in response to his ridiculous suggestion. “Only for you” haechan teases. Grabbing the hand you have placed on his head and pulling you towards his body in one swift motion, the space on the couch between you got significantly smaller. God you forgot your supposed to hate him. “Haechan-“ you’re ready to scold him when he only pulls you closer “mh?“

Both stuck in some sort of trance you try to respond without stuttering. “Hyuck… Wh-what are you…“ you Fail to communicate in this position. “Your checks are red, you okay princess?” He teases placing his other hand on your forehead, mocking your previous actions playfully.

You look at him. His eyes flicker from your lips to your eyes. “You’re drunk” you fought back, the urge to kiss him grew with very breath. It looks like he was holding back too, and you hated how giddy that made you feel. “And you’re.. so pretty like this” you sit there in shock, not knowing how to react. Looking anywhere but his eyes, which were desperately trying to meet yours again. You don’t think you could find it in you to look at him anymore.

“And you smell so good” he continues. You don’t try to fight his grip when he pulls you until you’re sat cradling his lap and his head buried in the crook of your neck. How did we get here so fast- Your hopelessly trying to fight back whimper but fail. You feel him grin against your neck. “You sound so beautiful”

“Hyuck, You are drunk” you tried you best to sound stern but it came out with a gasp. He was basically kissing your neck now. He takes note that you haven’t actually ask him to stop. Your arms come up to place them at his shoulders. But your still not exactly pushing him away. If anything you pulling him closer.

“So?” Finally responding to your statement, now you can try to have a conversation with him. “So you’re not thinking straight hyuck” you try to explain. “I’m never able to think straight Around you y/n” he replied. Only making this so much harder for you. Ignoring the feeling between your legs and the feeling of HIM growing between your legs, you slightly relax against him“-please keep saying my name” he whined. You pause just for a moment. Do you really want him to stop? Is this just because he drank too much? Or is he actually interested in getting intimate with you… No, no way, not haechan… he’s just drunk that’s all-

“I think we sh-“

“Don’t think about it love. Do what your body wants”

His hands slightly lift up your hoodie to rest at your waist, griping slightly every so often, it’s driving you crazy. His lips move up your neck to your ear. “I can feel a pulse down here. I bet you’re clenching around nothing hm?” His hand lightly tapping your lower stomach area. But you know what he was implying. He slowly slides one hand down your shorts, and with your underwear. Your hands move to his chest to push him away from your now sensitive neck and ear. He looks straight at you, after feeling the wetness he caused. His fingers slowly play with your folds. “Let me make you feel good y/n” grabbing your arms taking them from his chest and putting the around his neck. You don’t resist- you don’t want to move. You want him so bad. He places his hand at your hip bringing you closer, grinding against his bulge. “You are so stressed, this trip is supposed to help you relax, let me help you, yeah?” it’s ironic considering the reason you are stressed in the first place is because haechan is the definition of difficult. You two never got along. However that doesn’t seem true now, considering your position. your face was so close to his, your noses almost touching. “Tell me I can kiss you” it almost sounded like a demand. You nodded immediately, wishing he would hurry up and kiss you. “Say it”

sadistic bitch.

You pause for a moment gathering yourself. “Haechan, if you don’t kiss me in the next three seconds I will actually hate you” he let a laugh escape him, Slowly moving closer. His eyes trained to your lips. When your mouths where connected, he takes the hand that was giving you friction and moved it to the back if you neck pulling you closer. You whine into the kiss at the loss of contact. His lips were soft. Just like you would’ve imagined(have imagined). Feeling the warmth from his body against yours. Your hands rest on his shoulders. He felt so gentle and needy, you wanted to give him everything. He licks your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You decline, pulling away suddenly, Hearing footsteps and quiet chatter outside the door of the Airbnb. It took him a minute to process what just happened. “Someones coming”

He hears too. Turning to the door, they are knocking, must have forgot the key? “Why are they back so soon?” He wonders, with a blank but annoying expression in his face, Your panicking now. “Haechan they’re going to have a lot more questions then you, if they see us like this” he turns back to you with a smirk “I don’t mind-” “-I do!”

You move you body off of his to run to the door opening it to mark and Johnny. They look up with the key in their hands. “Sorry I thought I lost it, it was in my back pocket, we brought take out!” He laughs embarrassed. “Don’t worry, so where there any spots for tomorrow?” You ask moving to make room for them to enter the Lodge. “Yeah. There was one for 1:45 to 4:45, is that ok?” Johnny asks turning to you after placing there bags on the counter. “Yep, sounds good”you follow them into the kitchen area “ice skating is going to be so fun!” Mark chimes in. “Sorry for leaving you with this idiot.“ Johnny jokes, motioning his chin towards the boy you left sitting in the couch. continuing to take the fast food out. You laugh awkwardly. You and haecahn never really got along well. it was a very entertaining love-hate relationship. It was all fun and games but sometimes he really did get on your nerves. but that’s the same with all your friends.

You turn to him, with Johnny’s back turned and mark left the room. He was looking at the floor in frustration. He was about to get everything he’s been wanting since you two have met. He looked at you. A pillow placed above his lap to hide the prior activities.

“Did you have fun here? I see you started dinking without us” he teases. Johnny looked to haechan now.

He looks away from you with a teasing smirk. A stupid attractive smirk. “Of course I had to, nothing y/n says, is entertaining unless I’m drunk” you all laugh. Trying hard to forget what just happened so you would continue the night normally. “Ima take a shower” haechan announced. He need to take care of his… problem. He walks down the hallway where mark disappeared to and you turn back to Johnny who was looking straight at you with a VeRy knowing look. Your eyes follow his body until he disappears into the hallway.

You jumped at the glare he had on you. Johnny was the only one who knew that you had feelings for that idiot. “What” you ask defensively. “What? What!? Y/n he has a boner, your all giddy and awkward, he keeps looking at you like he hasn’t eaten in days ready to pounce. And you asking me what!?” You smack his arm for being so loud and blunt. He laughs at your stared face.

“I knew he had the hots for you since the day you two met” He said clearly proud of himself. You sack him again and this time it actually hurt. “How could You know?” You scoff embarrassed “He so obvious y/n your just oblivious” he could’ve told you that a while ago, but he wanted to watch it all unfold, and that was definitely happening this winter trip.

You cover your face with your palms in embarrassment “this is going to be a long trip”

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.154 Didn't see it coming

Mama gives us quick hugs when we arrive, then rushes upstairs to get back on grandma duty. Alessia has never been sensitive, so I'm not surprised she isn't trying to help Mama during her time of need. I hope, at some point, she'll start considering others' feelings and needs before her own. I know better than anyone how important fitness is, but I haven't done my morning yoga in weeks, and I go for a jog when I can. She's not a child anymore. She can't stay in the pool all day while Mama takes care of everything. What will she do when Mama's gone? Instead of dumping the responsibility on her, she needs to learn how to do motherhood and get those trade secrets from an OG while she can.

Since Desiree hadn't met her cousins yet, and the point of this visit is to spend time with Mama, I take her upstairs to get acquainted. She doesn't know who they are or what she's doing in this house, but she seems to enjoy the coos and babbles from the other babies. Breanna is chilling on the play mat, so I set Desi in the empty crib, and for once she doesn't fight or cry. She actually smiles. Is she communicating with her cousins? Perhaps this is the beginning of a beautiful alliance. Mama asks me to watch them for a few moments while she tends the garden, so of course I agree. There's an odd calm in the room. I don't think I've ever been around when all three triplets were satisfied. Grandmas are so magical, I tell ya. I take a moment and gaze at them. Just like Des, they are getting too big too fast. Bre and Arvin might look like their no-good daddy, but they sure are beautiful. Lex is Alessia's mini me. Did she name him that because it sounds like her name?

We didn't eat breakfast because I wanted to get to the house as soon as possible, so I go downstairs to put something on the grill. I don't know why, but I've been really into the grill lately. Maybe that whole man and fire thing has some truth in it. Mama had changed her clothes and hadn't made it to the garden yet, so we walk downstairs together. Well, I go down first and she follows, rather; she's a lot slower these days. As I head out the door, I tell her I'm going to put something on the grill. "Okay. I love you," she says. There's something a little extra warm and fuzzy in that one. Even though she says it all the time, it seems kind of odd for her to throw that in there, so I turn around to say it back. I expect to see her shining face, instead, I see the life oozing out of her.

I stand there for a moment, shocked by my mother's lifeless body on the floor. I did not see that one coming. Like, at all. I'm not ready! Why did it have to happen so soon?! I mean, I know "soon" is a construct of my own mind, and it's just her time, but still! Seeing that hurt. It really really hurts.

"LESS!!!"

The grim reaper shows up, looking like we interrupted his beach vacation or something, and I beg him to give her more time because she has four young grandchildren, and she is a full-time caretaker of three of them. My sister needs her. I plead. I implore. I grovel. When I'm out of reasons for him to revive her, he pulls out his tablet and scrolls through the names, taps on her profile when he sees it, and reads the details of her life. It must be an interesting read because he lets out a "hmmm" now and then, giving me hope he finds something that will convince him not to take her away.

"She's had quite a life," he said, making me even more hopeful. "But my hands are tied. She has no unfinished business. It's her time to go, dude."

Less finally comes in from outside as he tells me this, looking every bit as shocked as me. Sophia starts bawling immediately.

"Sorry for your loss, folks," the reaper says. "Now, if you would excuse me."

He gently side steps us, inching towards Mama's body, and a panic runs through me. I can't watch this. I can't watch him take away my mom's soul, so I rush to the living room to let him destroy what's left of our family.

[innitmarvellous]

Part 2 of my ace contemplations - Part 1 can be found here - or more like: more whining, haha. Sorry.

First off something more general: I'm happy about the responses I got on the original post, but I think it's a bit sad that there isn't a hashtag or something for people who want and need the support of the aspec community here on Tumblr (without having to join a special forum or sth). Because it seems that while the community is quite active, it's mostly for sharing memes and snappy textposts and stuff, and less about more helpful things and discussions. I'm not saying the memes etc are wrong and shouldn't be a part of it too, but idk, I just wish there would be more of an actual community bond, if that makes sense? To help the people who aren't yet at the stage where they can view their identity as something great, people who are still struggling and are reliant on online communities for that kind of help.

Because for all the talk about the very active Tumblr aspec community...I personally haven't seen and benefitted much of it, apart from the memes etc. And I hope I'm not the only person who don't just want to agree with meme posts and would wish for more. Or am I just unfortunate? Looking in the wrong places? (In short, where are the nice supportive ace people of Tumblr? I'm desperate here...well, kind of.)

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Something related to the books I mentioned in the original post:

these books are all written from such an US-centric, university-educated and creative business viewpoint. And that's just not my world at all, as an mostly unemployed European with crappy education.

Like, one time it was mentioned that aces always look out for each other and how great that is. And yeah, sure. It is. It would be great, but what about the people who aren't part of that lucky network or community? People who possibly haven't met another aspec person in real life? They are missing that kind of support, and maybe it would be the one thing that would make everything easier.

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Another thing: I found the probably supposed to be inspirational stories from other aces in the books rather disheartening. Yeah, fine, so person XY found their perfect partner by luck, despite whatever made them think it would never work out, yadda yadda. Good for them, but that's not gonna happen to me, right? I'm not gonna strike that jackpot and will find someone who accepts me as I am. Maybe I'm just a really, really spiteful person, but stories like that don't inspire me or show me what's possible for me personally in any way.

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Well, yeah, I never encountered that. Like, truly never. That's one thing where I'm very ace: I don't get what's supposed to be sexy about a (mostly) naked body. I understand a appeal of a open top button and bit of chest being visible or something like that (lol that sounded so stupid), but the body being in full view? Nah man, put on your shirt again before you catch a cold, lol. (And it's not just guys actually, but people of all genders, if I'm honest.) I should probably add that I absolutely don't mind seeing anything like that, it just doesn't do anything for me.

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I guess my takeaway from all the reading I did isn't like for other people who don't feel wrong or broken anymore when they find out there are other aces out there. Even after knowing a lot about it I still feel like some crucial part of me is missing, and I could be more than what I am if that were possible. But then again, there isn't really a possibility for change, so I need to do my best to accept this. I just wish I had it easy one single time...why is basically everything about me so hard to accept? lol

Idk, but if I ever manage to convince myself that inevitably dying alone one day (and spending the time until then alone too) is a good thing, then I'm sure I'll be able to do anything. Now I only need to figure out how to convince myself and that's where it gets difficult, lol.

Being both aspec and too dumb/awkward to make friends is such a curse tbh 😓 And I can't even become a crazy cat lady because I'm bad with animals too, ugh...

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In connection with the previous bit, I'm kinda envious of that way of thinking. Would make things much easier, I assume. And it's great if it worked for her, but I on the contrary would find it quite painful if I look back at my in a sense similar life.

---

And to counter all the hopelessness a little bit - we're supposed to do that kind of thing, I guess - I tried my best to come up with some positive points, although I take them with a grain of salt myself.

- Well, it does give me an explanation for whatever is going on with me. (Although I only need that explanation for myself, since I seem to give off so much sad loser energy that no one ever bothered to ask me whether I want a boyfriend or kids. They just look at me and think "nah, that's obviously impossible for her". Which is oddly funny yet a little bit hurtful... ^^')

- I'm kind of glad that I never actually have to hug people or cuddle with them since I hate physical contact so much, lol. Doesn't matter if it's platonic or not. Remember when everyone missed being hugged during the pandemic? Couldn't be me :D

- I guess someone who is a rather bad person with way too many negative traits like me shouldn't be on the dating market anyway, so it's a plus that I'm no relationship material. Although that's more of a plus for others, not so much for me, lol. But it is a plus in the sense that everyone I would fall in love with would be unattainable for me anyway, so it's good not to be tempted in the first place.

- Idk, that's about it, I think? Maybe I forgot something, but I believe that's the gist of it. Kind of sad, but I tried, haha.

[pineapplerightsideupcake]

how do you as a bisexual come to terms with the fact that the trans community has literally made homophobia much worse. ppl are proudly being openly homophobic and when you dig deeper it’s actually the “queers” and transgenders who think kids can transition who they have a problem with (not all of course but a good chunk) I believe ppl who wouldn’t otherwise be homophobic are being homophobic bc of the trans community. I use to really struggle w internalized homophobia, and still do, it was only this past year where I came to terms w it and told my sister/close friends. I wish it could be just a normal thing to be gay and you’d be left alone, I believe we were on a trajectory for that. But now things have gotten worse, and thanks to the gender nonsense, openly bigoted ppl (especially religious) are being praised and promoted. All this bc of trans activism. I don’t even care anymore about what they do to themselves, but the damage they’ve done to actual gay ppl is insane and we’re already facing the backlash. I’m not sure if we’ll ever live in a world where being lgb isn’t a big deal.

Honestly? I think the benefit of pushing 40 is that I have a wider lens through which to view activism. And I feel the same way about LGB rights as I do about women’s rights.

Which is to say, every time a big gain is won, there is backlash. There are parts of society that get worse as the culture tries desperately to adjust around the new changes.

Men today are more porn sick and sexually aggressive than 20 years ago. In some ways. People are polling less positively about the LGTBQI+ but how much of that backlash is really directed at the LGB? Are polling groups even bothering to distinguish between LGB and “queer” people?

Let me tell you what life was like as a bisexual teen in 2003. Let’s go back 20 years and I can tell you the world has changed so much for the better. 20 years ago gay rights activists started really making headway towards civil rights guarantees. Suddenly middle Americans had to confront that gay people were among them and not just haunting bars and bathhouses. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such rigid gender norm adherence as I did back then. Men couldn’t wear pastels or purple or pink. Guys got called gay for having a messenger bag. There is an entire episode of “Friends” about it. Sussing out the Gays Among Us became obsessive. Emo culture was a direct response to how frantic straight people were to appear duly heterosexual. TV shows still depicted us as degenerate freaks if they depicted us at all. A few HBO shows that were soft core porn more than anything and Will and Grace was all anybody had. Shows like Xena and Buffy got away with lesbians because men said out loud that hot women kissing was fine. These were the early days of straight men having open lesbian fetishizes. We couldn’t get married. We could get fired for being gay.

For women there was no movement to normalize our natural bodies. I’d spend hours shaving myself smooth. Not wearing makeup was unheard of. Cellulite wasn’t even a word I knew let alone knew was normal. There weren’t a million online resources teaching women that vaginal discharge is normal and I grew up thinking (as did many others) that it was a private shame.

And as far as MeToo stuff? It’s easy to feel defeated in the moment but nobody was using the word ‘consent’ in my day. Men getting women drunk was a joke. Men pushing for sex was a joke. Men calling a woman that had one too many dates or boyfriends a slut was normal. Three of my male friends pinned me down on several occasions and took turns rubbing their dicks on me to completion.

The therapist I told said I “needed to work on my boundaries”. The word rape never even entered my mind. Rape was something a stranger with a knife did. It wasn’t something your best friends did to you and then laughed about. It isn’t something you submitted to because fawn and freeze are real fear responses. No one told me my friend forcing my hand down his pants was abuse because I continued to go over his house, didn’t I? No one told me about red flags or cycles of abuse.

And the older women you told rolled their eyes. What I endured was so mild compared to many other women. Men forcing themselves onto women was just normal.

I can’t tell you what it means to me to see so many young women calling it out. Refusing to stay in a bad situation. Refusing to date entirely sometimes. Women sharing red flags and advice to stay not just safe but thriving.

Don’t get me wrong- the current gender movement is regressive and dangerous. I’m not saying it’ll all work itself out. Activism is constant work but things ARE getting better. They really are, even if sometimes it doesn’t feel like it. 💜

[simplywghost]

He's just a ghost (part 1?)

After Johnny's death everything changed within you, around you and even in the world, nothing looked as colorful anymore, your family was not as happy and everyone felt the absence of your brother.

Time went on slowly, every week felt like hell because how do you really get over a loss? And people were nice, they gave you hugs and words of encouragement that were filled with nothing but good intentions, but you doubted you could ever recover from this, he was your family, your role model and the light of everyone who knew him.

On the other hand, your family and your home was not the only place where absence paid a visit, it also walked through the barracks and his captain's office, it hugged his teammates and although everyone was painfully used to losses... this one was different, it felt more heartbreaking.

Ghost hated to admit it but his mind wandered to memories of his mate, of that accent that he repudiated and now tried to reproduce in his mind, of the jokes that did make people laugh but he never allowed himself to laugh, which felt bad now. He was a nostalgic man, he lived in the past although he did not like to relive those moments.

And he felt alone, maybe that's why he was encouraged to open the letter you sent him under another name with fingers numb from the cold and assumed that the person writing had already sent letters to members of the army, his full name was written next to his unit. He ran his fingers all over the paper that had been crumpled a little from the stack of other letters, it was kind of cliché but it was the best way to communicate when there was no signal.

“I don't really understand how to start a letter, in fact I have never known, even though I have written so many, I didn't study the reason very well either.

Maybe I feel alone, I don't know, what I have known for quite some time is that I am sad and writing makes me forget a little how monotonous and gray my life has become.”

Ghost looked at the window for a moment, his hand reaching for the old wood of the cabin where they spent the night, thinking for a moment that the feelings of the person who wrote to him coincided with his own, his vision was lost for a moment in the darkness and the snow before returning to the letter.

“Is the army as depressing as they say? I can't come to grips with the reality that blood and death is a lifestyle that people choose by choice, it's selfish, your loved ones worry and fear for your well-being while you flee from the tranquility of a comfortable life."

Simon had to stop to chuckle. “I have no loved ones, darling.” He muttered as he shook his head slowly and settled on the floor as best as he could, his back resting against the wood that creaked with every movement and the musty smell was seeping through his mask into his lungs, how was it possible, with so much snow?

“What I want to say is that I don't understand how you can carry the weight of death on your shoulders without it driving you crazy, it's too much and I get exhausted just thinking about it.

Maybe I need help, for you to allow me to see with your eyes to see if I learn to cope with what I feel now.”

He bit his cheek, his eyes lowered to the end of the letter, where there was a mail address just in case he wanted to respond and the initial of a letter that he deduced was random.

Ghost let out a sigh, it was early morning and his eyes hurt, burning from the amount of time he had spent awake, his body was numb from the cold despite all the layers of clothing that covered his skin, however he managed to stand up and lazily look for a piece of paper that was in decent condition to answer.

It didn't matter who he was, what mattered was that he had an address to send the response to and that he too felt the loneliness eating away at his brain like a virus, he felt exhausted and hopeless, Soap's death had been so unexpected... well, like everyone else's, it was part of the job.

There was a piece of paper in one of the kitchen drawers and he grabbed  it along with a pen that looked about to give in, but trying was what he should do and he doubted it, he had not written a letter for a long time and although he did not consider himself a bitter old man, he never had much to say.

“The army is often not only an obligation but also an escape for many who do not find a home in their house, it is sinister at first, I am not going to lie. There are daily situations that make you wonder if you want to continue there and even if you feel like you are made of iron, many things change you forever.

Time gets you a little used to all the mess and you find yourself unable to feel the same level of terror that you felt as a newbie, which is worse because it often led me to wonder what was I becoming.

I could never spend too much time thinking about whether I feel alone or scared, it's probably what caught my attention the most about the job, it doesn't stop for anyone, it doesn't let us stop to think if it's what we want or not".

His hand hurt from writing so fast and he dropped the pen once he finished, it was a little short but he wasn't used to sending letters, he didn’t have a big family, he wasn't a lover, a son, a father, he wasn't anyone, just a ghost.

He walked slowly back to the window and collapsed on the floor, letting out a sigh and feeling the heaviness of fatigue, closing his eyes. He would sleep badly and wake up sore, but that was better than not sleeping.

The next morning they all left the cabin to a place a little fuller of civilization and he was able to send the letter by mail to the address you left him. He didn't know when it would arrive as it was never a quick process, but he found himself longing for the response. It was the only way he had to feel connected to the outside, so he limited himself to asking questions that might make you simply not answer anymore.

And just as Simon imagined, the letter was in your hands fifteen days later, you read it with tears in your eyes because although his personality and Johnny's were not even remotely similar, he reminded you of your brother, because the 141 was part of him and his essence.

That was precisely the reason why you were talking to him through letters, because you needed to feel connected to someone who was no longer there and your only connection right now was Simon, it was strange, not him but this whole situation, you had met Ghost only once and you felt intimidated, his cold gaze under that mask was so hard and emotionless, he really lived up to that nickname, he was like a ghost.

You sighed, sitting on the kitchen chairs and looking out the window, the weather outside was merciless, the snow was destroying everything in its path and you could no longer see the floor, that weather reminded you of your childhood, the layers of thick snow covered the cars and yet the discomfort of humidity was more present than the cold.

You got lost in thought with the letter in hand before looking at it again, praying that this mysterious man would return safely from deployment, you imagined that he, like you, had felt the loss, so now part of you and of your pain was with him.