oda died. chuuya has no idea.
babe, i'm back. ... hey, what's going on?
i'm leaving.
you're what? 'samu, did something happen?
stop fucking using that tone. or my name.
what the fuck? can you explain?
explain what?
everything?!
you knew it was only a matter of time. i don't know why you act surprised.
you don't wanna talk about it?
no.
...where to?
none of your business.
but osa- listen, you swore you wouldn't- ever-
i didn't swear shit to mafia.
...fuck no. that's not how you talk to me, you fucking piece of shit.
get off of me.
you're leaving me too! you swore shit to me!
you're nothing more than one of my mistakes.
i know you're lying, fuck, what's gotten into you?
i'm not lying, i can't bear even looking at you now.
but why? dazai, it's unfair to-
oh, and you're always fair to me? i know you're seeing someone else.
...who? tell me who told you that and i'll rip them apart, because it's fucking bullshit.
you're bullshit. all of you. it's your nature. quit playing the victim.
this is ridiculous-
and what are you gonna do about it? beg for me to stay? again? aren't you tired?
you know what? i am. because saying shit like that out of blue is too low, even for you.
i need to pack my things, get out of my-
who's blood is that? the hell is-
mine! it's mine cause i felt uneasy! stop sniffing around, you're not helping!
this doesn't look like- like- you know, there's too much of it, dazai, i don't understand-
you don't need to understand, chuuya, please, stop trying to get closer. you're not special. i'm not gonna take you with me so we can run off into the sunset.
but you can't do it completely on your own, god, are you even here with me?
i'm the one thinking critically right now. i can get killed otherwise, and i'm not gonna be alone.
...you can't just throw it at me like that. can i at least know when it started?
when what started?
well, your falling out? i guess i should've seen it coming with the way you hated introducing me to literally anyone.
i'm not here to fight about it with you.
but you accused me of cheating first thing i came in, idiot!-
i'm not- i was talking about him.
who? ...odasaku? ... fuck, i'm sorry for assuming- whatever, you do realise he's not gonna be here for you forever?
...chuuya, please.
i'm not trying to scare you off and obviously i'm not any better but-
please stop. some... people were here, but they left, and it's not so bad. it's gonna be fine and we're gonna find the best place to hide, i don't care what you think of it, we're gonna be- fine-
honey... i didn't mean to make it worse, it's o-
no it's not! you know nothing about me or my friends, i'm begging you- just- fuck off-
i know it's hard and-
don't touch me! ... god, just go away.
...so you mean it.
yes. i fucking do. now leave. you can get suicidal and stick around this burnt house as long as you want later.
...fuck you. i can't stand you anymore.
oh yeah? news to me.
yeah, cause i fucking loved you! i put everything i had eating me from inside away and stayed with you up untill this point. i made my whole life evolve around you. jesus, i even grew my hair for you!
uh-huh.
and guess what! i never fucking liked it this way. i barely got anything out of whatever we had going on. you didn't even wanna give it a name. cause i'd eat it up. and i did.
right.
fuck, dazai, can't you have a heart for a minute?
yeah no, not around someone who thinks of me as crazy, but thanks.
i don't- what the fuck are you talking about?
all the... nice treatment you gave me was always based purely on the fact that i'm fucking broken and that you should fix me. not only it's incredibly fucked up, you also just can't. you always play god here and there but you don't carry the power of one, not even close.
now, i didn't even-
chuuya, please. i'm asking kindly. i can easily get it over with, but i don't think it'd be either rational or pleasant for you.
...just like this?
yeah. just like this. if you can't accept that you're not needed, then you earn all the hostility. i'm done with all this shit. let us both finally have peace. ... that look doesn't exactly evoke peaceful feelings in me.
i... i have so much to say, to- to ask before- and there's not enough time- huh, it seems like it's never the time. i don't know if i should waste my chance, though.
i mean, if you realise how useless all of our conversations ever were...
...
woah. okay. ... one last question.
if you promise to never talk to me again, go on.
...did you- it's hard not to- ...well, i know someone died. i just have to know, are you the cause?
yes and no. unfortunately, i didn't get to kill anyone this time. but i'm also at fault. great one. i'm at hurry. so may i be excused? ... you better not show up in my life later on. not necessarily because you're so distractive, it's just the way it- it has to be. have fun around here, but be cautious. you never know where your line's gonna end. or when you're gonna lose someone. i guess it would be even more heartbreaking to you, 'normal people'.
wait, are you saying-
i thought you stopped bothering me. ...nevermind. do whatever you want.
i can't believe you're doing this to me.
please, move.
dazai- baby, i was only trying to-
now, you shut it and let me go or i'll slit your throat with this shiny thing. ... cool. oh, and... your letters or anything like that will never reach me. we have nothing to discuss. nothing that is worth the effort. i also think you said everything you wanted to. ...thank you- for, uh, not whining too much. see you in hell.
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hi! i saw ur post where u mention age change with loa and could u talk more about that? cause i just turned 20, but i wanna be 17 again just so i can experience teenage things (i had depression and extreme social anxiety my whole teenagehood). i wanna feel young and do things right, apply everything i know now to this time in my life cause i can't help but feeling so old speacially since i have zero "firsts", like i'm 20 and no first crush or first kiss (ik it's not the end of the world, but i want back the expirences i was stolen from). i don't wanna over-explain myself nor trauma dump on u, but basically i just wanna start over yk? i know nothing is impossible to loa, truly know, but this one wish makss me insecure cause that will mean i was born in 2007 instead of 2004 and my old classmates werent really my classmates which is okay cause i never liked them but instead i had different ones that i don't know? i don't know if i'm making sense here, sorry to be asking u these things but ur the only person i've seen talking about age change so i'll be very thankful to anything u have to say to me. hope u have a good day :)
This ask unironically made me frown, like so hard, knowing that manifesters like you have to ask if starting over is okay because of the heavy misrepresentation and misunderstanding of manifesters and shifters who age change.
My love, OF COURSE you can. I cannot believe we have come to the point, on the interent as a whole, that people feel that they need to ask permission on what to do with THEIR LIVES, because the all high and mighty LOA police feel like they have the right to dictate what others should and shouldn't do with their lives.
And God forbid you don't obey them because then they'll throw every derogatory name, they'll diagnose you with every mental illness they want to insult you with (that they don't even understand), they'll assume that utmost worst about you, and take to their side of the community to shame you infront of them all. It's genuinely appalling.
Which is why I finally reminded myself a couple years ago that these people are not my mum. I have free will to do what I want with MY LIFE and whatever they say are nothing more than opinions that I can literally choose to listen to or to ignore. I refuse to fall into the trap of giving power, MY power away to outsiders and let them control me because real talk now, what are they actually going to do? At the end of the day they can cry, shout, rip their hair out on camera an tell me how insne I am for not having the same views as them, but none of that's stopping me from sleeping with their mum AND dad in another reality
Long story short, my answer is yes, you can start over and change the year you were born hun. You can do whatever you want because this is your call. Do what YOU want, not whatever the LOA police deems acceptable by their beliefs
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Whenever someone give me a little handwritten note or a letter, I keep it in my wallet or between the pages of my favourite books forever.
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Something I've seen a couple people saying is that they want to make sure that Laudna understands that she's not the only one who has been through trauma. But like. Laudna is not the only one who needs to learn that lesson. Actually, it's not even that Laudna needs to learn that she's not the only one that's been through trauma at all, because they're all very aware of what they've all been through. This became an inevitable confrontation when Laudna decided to let Delilah back in, though, and after rewatching the scene, I actually think the only people who managed this situation correctly were Imogen* and Ashton.
Orym and Laudna are both more focused on their own pasts with the sword and not thinking about each other. Orym should have talked to the group and come to a decision with them about using the sword and Laudna should have talked to him about it instead of trying to steal it.
*my feelings about this are still up in the air don't read into this too much
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some men are textbook villains fr
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my hot take about descendants is that NONE of the core four were ready for a relationship until maybe like, the third movie (rant in tags)
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ANYWHO goodnight tumblr i'll be back on the art grind tomorrow i think 🙏
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I hate that I literally just do not trust any of the older folks in my family to do right by anyone
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I'm very much a, "fuck yeah and fuck you, I don't need validation! I'm me, cunts!" kinda fella, but sometimes I could use support.
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ur post abt the roommate. wow the audacity of white ppl never fails to amaze me. they rlly only perceive the world through their lens and think if someone hasn’t established themselves in their community they’re a nobody. u had to find out abt kanye west due to a white woman prevalent in ur community? what does that say abt u more than anything? it’s so funny how they rlly think poc success relies on whether they’re relevant enough to white ppl. it makes me understand now why a lot of them will be obsessed with and hype up artists like tyler the creator, since 90% of his audience are white. i experienced this first hand at one of his concerts earlier this year.
It def changes the narrative a lot, but I'm also white and I was really shocked, too. I knew it was possible, but I never really thought someone would be so blatant (and intentional, too) in their cultural deafness and blindness about a topic that's not only easy to understand but also... important?
Like... idek know what to say. The fact that there are (white) people out there who have never had to challenge their worldview, even with different styles of art and music... to the point where distinct history, at the very least, isn't even remotely important? Or considered at all?
Not only does it touch upon what you say about it reflecting poorly on them (which, BIG FACTS) but also... you wonder how that's something to even defend or take pride in. It's pure stupidity... and overall just hard to watch, someone having the nerve to so wrongly but confidently have opinions about a topic they never even bothered to learn about.
And exactly as you say about TTC, too. We were just talking in one of my education classes, about how culture can be alienated at the exact same time society starts to accept it. Like, who is truly benefitting from making something mainstream? Not that this is inherently/automatically bad, per se, but when art, music, food, etc, becomes popular at the expense of the people who made it and who it was made FOR... what's really going on? Definitely nothing mutually beneficial, that's for sure... and ESPECIALLY not if this version is the only thing shared, valued, and understood of the culture.
Like Kanye West at the VMAs vs. the impact of his entire discography, for example.
(though it's funny, I said to my roommate, "haven't you heard about stuff like this in passing?" and she deadass said "no."
What. The. Fuck.)
But yeah. People will really value one famous white lady who makes nothing but mediocre love songs about her own life over popular and meaningful expressions of black experience... and then say they aren't racist.
It is depressing. Lol. But thank you for this! I agree + appreciate the insight SO much.
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(1)Learn the rules before you break them + Gather proper references
(2) Understand what you want to break and how
(3) Can't do it? Find someone who can
(4) It's going to look really bad for a while
(5) Have fun with it!
(1) -Yes, I am that kind of artist. Yet, not in the conventional way. I encourage people to go in guns blazing when it comes to drawing something new, then coming out analyzing what they know, and what they need to learn more of right away.
-Here, I broke down the anatomical pieces of Nour and Narinder's face with the same labels so you guys can understand this weird invisible pattern that I follow in my work. Doing this with any animal you're attempting to draw greatly improves your line confidence when drawing different face shapes. Also understanding the biological function for why animals look a certain way helps you keep consistency.
(3) Time to throw any artistic guilt you have for heavily referencing people's art OUT THE WINDOW and start ANALYZING PEOPLE'S WORK YOU WANT TO BE LIKE✨ I've always done this, having a reference of someone else's amazing work right next to my own drawing so I can try and understand how they make their magic work! No shame, no embarrassment, nada. Pure, unadulterated will and spite that I would be just as good as the artist who made me so motivated and happy with their work! I couldn't figure out how to make Nour's face both sheep-like, and humanly expressive, so I looked at a LOT of Zootopia and old Disney art for help!
(2) With how I draw narilamb, I'm still working on it (as you can see) but I wanted to break Narinder's face to be fluffier and slimmer, while Nour's face would be shorter and flatter. If you look at it for too long, it's absolutely going to look weird, in the way that if you look at Anna from Frozen for too long she starts looking really weird. The anatomy isn't meant to be correct or consistent, it's meant to convey the emotion and energy I want out of the characters in that moment. If you're able to properly get that across, then you don't need to think about how broken something looks, as long as your eye is happy enough to trick your brain into thinking what you're seeing is canny.
(4) Yeah, I hate this part too. It's going to look like shit at first. I can't even look at my art from a few months ago when I was figuring out their designs... God, so fucking ugly. If it weren't for the shittiness of those drawings, I would have never gotten here! Wading through the "trust the process" stage always really sucks, but it's absolutely worth the relief of when you finally get something to look right.
(5) Art is work, yes. It's stressful, it's long, it's straining, its draining, it's exclaiming, blah blah blah. But, I try to keep my art FUN. If I find my artwork becoming slow as I depressingly drag my pen over my tablet, I'm failing. You MUST keep spirit and life in your work. The spirit of emptiness or the life of sadness can have a very meaningful place in art, but those can only exist with keeping work light, easy, and fun! If you're stressing how a specific thing looks or how you can't get something to look right no matter what, FUCK IT. Draw something to bring the flavor back in your work! I'm kind of rambling, but just, HAVE FUN!✨️ Be messy, scream, laugh, slash canvases, throw paint, smash sculptures, tear apart books, GO CRAZY
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That’s what friends are for - M. Sturniolo
Best friends to lovers
Part 2 here
Paring: softdom!Matt x innocent!Reader
Contains/warnings: manipulation, inexperienced reader, fingering, oral(fem receiving), loss of innocence kinda, pet names, aftercare, no p in v
Summary: You go crying to Matt after a group of ‘friends’ laughed at your innocence and inexperience. So Matt decides to help you…
——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————
You were hanging out with a group of friends, everything’s going fine. There are laughs, jokes, questions, you felt very comfortable.
Until someone asks. “Where is the weirdest place you’ve touched yourself at?” You frown your eyebrows confused by the question. While other people start answering, restaurant bathroom, school, work, library, pool, etc.
“What about you?” Someone asks looking at you.
“Me?… I- what do you mean by touching yourself?” You shyly ask.
They laugh. “Come on, y’know what I mean.”
You stay silent. The whole group laughs at your silence. “No way you don’t know what we’re talking about.” Someone says.
“You can’t be that dumb.”
“You’re such a prude.”
“Oh god, she’s actually that innocent.”
Your eyes blurring with tears at the comments people are throwing at you. You don’t understand anything, you don’t understand why are they this mean to you. You quickly grab your things and storm out of there. You don’t wanna go home, but you can’t stay on the streets crying. So you decide to go to your best friends house, Matt. His house is just a couple blocks away so you walk there.
By the time you get to his house tears stop falling out of your eyes. But it’s clearly that you’ve cried, your red eyes selling you out. You knock on his door.
He answers the door, his warm smile immediately putting you at ease, even in your emotional state. His eyes flicker to your reddened eyes he tilts his head slightly, concerned by your state. “Hey there, sweetheart. What's wrong?” He softly asks with concern.
“I- I’m so sorry to show up to your house like this, it’s just that… tha-.” You can feel yourself start to cry again.
Matt quickly pulls you into a heartfelt hug, letting you cry on his shoulder. “Hey, hey, it's okay.” He murmurs softly, his hand gently rubbing your back. “No need to apologize, you can always come to me, you know that, right?”
You nod but continue to cry on his shoulder. He continues to hold you, waiting for you to calm down enough so that you can talk about what happened. Once your sobbing subsides a little, he gently guides you to his couch and sits down next to you.
He wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you closer, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "You can tell me anything, you know that. So go ahead, what happened?"
“I don’t wanna talk about it…” your voice breaking a little bit as you say that.
"Okay. That's fine too. You don't have to talk about it if you don't feel ready yet." He squeezes your shoulder gently, offering silent support and comfort. "How about we just sit here for a little while?"you nod as he says that.
Some minutes go by, you’re completely done crying and your breathing is back to normal now. “They all laughed at me…” you suddenly say in a quiet voice.
He frowns, listening. "Who laughed at you, sweetheart? And why?" He asks.
“We… we were all hanging out, it’s was all good. We were having a good time until someone asks…” you start explaining.
"Asks what, love?" He gently prods you to continue, keeping a comforting arm around your shoulders.
“Someone asks, ‘Where is the weirdest place you’ve touched yourself at?’” You say.
His expression and posture changes completely from comforting to protective. He pulls you in even closer, scowling. "And what did you say?"
“Nothing. I didn’t say anything. Everyone was answering until someone asked me… I- I told him I didn’t understand the question.” You answer shyly.
His grip on you tightens, eyes flashing with a mix of anger and concern. "Fuck. Those bastards." He mutters under his breath. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself.
“They all laughed at me and called me a ,prude? I think. I don’t remember the word.” Your vulnerability showing in your voice.
"I don't care what they said, you re not a prude." He gently tilts your chin up to meet his gaze.
“What’s a prude?” You ask him.
He brushes his thumb across your cheekbone, a soft smile on his lips. "A prude is someone who is overly conservative or modest, especially when it comes to sex or relationships. They think you're naive or inexperienced because you didn't answer their crude question." He cups your face, looking into your eyes.
“… what did their question mean?” You ask. Matt could see your innocence through your eyes.
His eyes widen and he sighs heavily, his thumb still rubbing soothing circles on your cheekbone. He looks down, realizing that he may have to explain something uncomfortable to you. "It's a question about masturbation, okay? Touching yourself in a sexual way."
“Oh, like … sex?” You ask innocently.
He lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head at your innocent assumption.
"Not exactly, love. It's more about pleasuring yourself, especially when you're alone." He pauses, considering how much to reveal. "Sometimes people touch themselves in private, for pleasure, to relieve tension.”
“Ohhh… I’ve never done that.” You say quietly.
His eyes flicker with surprise, but he quickly masks it with a neutral expression. "Oh. Really?" He looks at you with new eyes, as if he's seeing a different side to you. "That's okay, it's your choice. Everyone has different levels of comfort when it comes to sex and sexual activity" He reassures you, sliding his hand down to rest on your shoulder. "But, there's nothing wrong with it if you ever feel like giving it a try."
“Does it… feel good?” You ask with curiosity.
He chuckles, a soft, warm sound. "Yes, it can feel very good.” he admits with a smile. "You feel a rush of pleasure, a release of tension and stress. Some even say it helps with sleep." he explains, his eyes never leaving yours.
You pay attention at his word, your curiosity growing every second. “Have you done it?” You ask innocently with curiosity.
His smile turns into a soft chuckle again as he looks away, clearing his throat. He seems a bit hesitant to answer, but eventually meets your gaze again. "Yes, I have. It's a normal part of life, love."
“Mmhh” you answer.
He leans in closer, his breath tickling your ear as he whispers. "What is it, sweetheart?“ His hand slides down to rest on your hip, fingers tracing gentle circles on your skin. "You're thinking about it, aren't you?" His voice is low, a husky whisper. "Wondering what it would feel like…” His eyes narrow slightly, studying your reaction, noticing the subtle hitch in your breath and the way your cheeks flush. He leans in closer, his voice lowering to a husky whisper. "You're...interested, aren't you?”
You nod slowly, feeling a little shy. “But.. I- I don’t know how to…”
His soft smile turned into a smirk. “Shhh, don't worry.” He reassures you. "I'll teach you." His hand moves from your hip to your waist, pulling you closer to him. His other hand reaches up to gently cup your face .“I'll be there to guide you through it all."
“Mhh… I don’t know” you say feeling nervous and unsure.
His smirk grew wider. He leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose. “Trust me.” he whispers, his hand sliding from your waist to gently rest on the small of your back. He pulls you even closer to him, leaving very little space between your bodies. "It's just you and me, okay?" He can be very persuasive... "I promise to make you feel good." he whispers.
He sees you thinking about it still feeling unsure.
He watched you hesitate, "What's wrong, sweetheart? Don't you trust me?" He asks feigning a sad expression. “I just want to help you.” He says pretending a disappointment voice. “That’s what friends are for.” His eyes sparkle with mischief. “And we’re friends, aren’t we?”
“… of course I trust you Matt, you’re my best friend. I just.. I-“
He watched you stutter, his grin growing wider with every passing second. He knows he had you exactly where he wanted you. "Then let me help you. We are best friends. And best friends do...well, all sorts of things together." He says with a little chuckle. He can't help but find your innocence and nervousness adorable. He loves how you don’t what his intentions actually are. "I've been planning this moment for a long time now." His hand moves up to your face again, lightly brushing away a loose hair from your cheek. "I know what's best for you, I promise. You can trust me."
“You promise it wont hurt?” You softly ask. You still feel very unsure but you want to show him that you trust him and that he is your best friend.
He looks into your eyes, studying your emotions, and sees the hesitance and worry in them. "I promise, sweetheart. I wouldn't do anything to hurt you," he had to keep you calm. He couldn't afford you pulling away from him now. “It might feel a little strange at first, but trust me, it won't hurt. In fact, it will feel amazing.”
You nod as he says that, you really love Matt as your best friend. So you accept not wanting to ruin your friendship.
He knew he had you right where he wanted you - vulnerable and willing, trusting his every word. "That's a good girl," he cooed, his voice dripping with approval and affection. He takes you to his room and lays you on his bed. His eyes are filled with lust and desire. He gently caresses your arm, his fingers trailing down slowly, sending chills running up and down your body.
He watches your reactions closely, gauging your level of comfort and arousal. Seeing you shiver at his touch, he knows he's making progress. His hand slides from your arm to the hem of your shirt, fingers dancing teasingly along the fabric. "First, we need to get you out of this." His hands slowly lifting it up your torso. He fully takes off your shirt revealing the lacy bra underneath. He admires your body for a few seconds. “Fuck” he murmurs.
He takes your hand and guides it to his crotch, his fingers intertwining with yours as he presses your palm against the hard bulge in his pants. "See how much you affect me, sweetheart?" he murmurs again, his breathing growing more every second. You let out a small gasp as you feel is hard bulge.
He watches your face as you feel his hardness through his pants, your small gasp and the way your eyes widen slightly. “Ah, you feel that?" He whispers in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. “Don't be shy," he whispers, urging you to stroke him gently. He moans lightly at your touch, his eyes closing in pleasure. "God, you drive me crazy." he says, his voice filled with a husky warmth that makes your stomach flutter. "You like that, sweetheart?" He continues to press your hand against his crotch, loving the way your innocent touch makes him feel. He says as he leans down to kiss you deeply while caressing your breasts over the bra. He reaches around your back and undoes the clasp on your bra. He gently tugs the straps down, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. He leans in, taking a nipple into his mouth, sucking and nibbling on it gently.
“Mmmh” you let out a whiny moan feeling his tongue against your hard nipple.
He savors the sweet, innocent sound of your moan, his tongue swirling around your sensitive bud as he sucks gently. "Mmm, you like that don't you?" He murmurs, the vibrations of his voice against your sensitive skin sending another wave of pleasure through you. He continues to tease and taste your nipple, his other hand massaging your other breast, making sure to give it equal attention. After a few seconds he moves one hand down to your thighs, gently caressing them as he makes his way upwards. "You're so beautiful, sweetheart."
With a gentle but firm grip, he pushes up your skirt, making space for himself to touch you more intimately. As his hand inches closer to your core, you can feel the heat building between your legs, aching for more of his touch. His hand finally reaches your panties, his fingers grazing the fabric over your slick folds. "Fuck, you're so wet already," He gently rubs your clit through the fabric of your panties, applying just enough pressure to make you squirm in pleasure.
You bite your lips and let out muffled moans.
He smirks at the sight of you trying to stifle your moans and he loves knowing he's the one causing such delicious chaos. With a smirk he knows you can't see, he slowly lowers his hand, pulling down your panties as he does. When he fully took your panties off you automatically close your legs feeling embarrassed.
His eyes light up as he sees your instinctive reaction to expose yourself, a mix of shyness and vulnerability. "Don't be shy, baby. I want to see you, all of you." He gently spreads your legs apart. He leans down, his breath fanning against your slick folds, making you gasp, his eyes devouring the sight of your bare, glistening sex.
You close your eyes, your breathing gets heavy, you bite your lip harder. All because of the feeling of his hot breath hitting your core.
He slowly exhales against you, the heat making you tremble despite the lack of direct contact. "You're so responsive, it's a fucking turn-on." He reaches up and gently runs a finger along your slit before pulling back and bringing that finger to your lips, gently pressing it against them. "Open your mouth, my love.”
You stay paralyzed for a few seconds, but then decide to do what he says. So you open your mouth looking at him with your innocent doe eyes showing confusion.
He chuckles at your look of confusion. Seeing your innocent, confused expression makes him smile. "Don't question it, just do as you're told," he whispers, his voice low and commanding, and slowly slides his finger into your mouth. He groans at the sight of watching you as you taste yourself for the first time. He guides your tongue to his finger, coating it with your saliva. "Good girl. That's it, sweetheart. Suck on it” he says before taking it back into his own mouth and sucking off the slickness.
You watch as he takes his finger out of you mouth soaked with a mix of your wetness and saliva. He pushes it into his mouth savouring you. You feel your pussy clench around nothing as he does that.
His eyes darken with lust as he sees your reaction to his actions. He groans, savoring the taste of you on his finger. "Fuck, you're delicious," he says hungrily. He can't help but press his palm against your pussy, feeling the heat radiating from between your legs. "You're so fucking wet, it's dripping down your thighs." His eyes flicker up to meet yours for a moment before he leans forward and uses that wet finger to circle your clit.
“Mmhp Matt.” You squirm and moan.
"What was that, princess?" he murmurs. He continues to circle your clit slowly and gently at first, but he increases the pace as he sees you squirm and moan, the wetness from your own arousal making it easy to glide. His other hand moves to gently grip your thigh, applying gentle pressure to spread your legs wider for him.
You cover your mouth with your hands trying to hide your moans and whimpers.
He chuckles at the futile attempt to muffle your sounds, clearly enjoying the way you struggle to contain quiet. He continues to pleasure you until he hears you stifle a moan behind your hands. "Don't hide that beautiful sound, sweetheart.” he murmurs, pulling your hands away slowly and bringing your fingers into your mouth instead.
You suck on his fingers for a few seconds before he pushes them out. “I want to hear you scream my name," he says urgently, his own voice husky with desire. He moves down between your legs and replaces his fingers with his tongue, licking and sucking your clit.
“Mmh oh god Matt.” You desperately moan.
"That's it, princess. Say my name." He presses his tongue firmly against your clit and hums, sending a wave of pleasure through you. The vibrations make you arch your back as he holds onto your thighs, keeping you spread open for him. He smirks against you, feeling you growing wetter against his tongue, which is clearly loving the taste of you, as he is using his fingers to part your folds even more so that he can have easier access. "You taste so fucking good, princess. I could spend hours tasting every inch of you," he murmurs against your pussy, continuing to lick and suck your clit while he slides one finger into your wet pussy.
“Ahh Matt.” You moan in pain and pleasure, feeling his finger stretching you out for the first time.
"You're so fucking tight, princess. Does it hurt?" he coos, his tongue never leaving your clit. “Mhm” you nod. "Relax, princess. Just breathe," he coos, feeling your tightness around his finger. He slowly pumps it in and out, letting you get accustomed to the feeling. You keep letting out moans of pleasure and pain. He smirks against your pussy, pushing his finger deeper, crooking it to hit your g-spot. He could see the mix of pain and pleasure on your face, which made him push his finger in even deeper. "You're so tight.” He says slowly adding a second finger to the first one.
“Matt…Matt mhh.” You whimper in pain.
“Shhh. You're doing so well," His fingers curl inside you, stroking that sensitive spot, applying gentle pressure making you gasp and buck your hips. He lets out a low groan, feeling your walls clench around him. "Fuck, you're gripping me so tightly.” He groans. "You're being such a good girl, just try to breathe." He presses his tongue firmly against your clit, giving it attention as well.
Your moans of pain turn into moans of pleasure after a few minutes. “Mmh mhhp.”
He smirks against your pussy, pleased with the shift in your moans. His fingers continue to pump in and out, curling and stroking that spot inside you that makes you quiver. He adds a third finger, gently stretching you further, feeling your tight walls accommodate him. "You're doing so well, taking my fingers like a good little slut." He continues to finger fuck you, making sure he's hitting your g-spot repeatedly that makes your breathing becoming erratic and your legs tremble. His tongue doesn't leave your clit, applying different kinds of pressures as he continues to suck. "You taste like heaven." He says, his fingers pumping in and out of your tight pussy, curling and stroking that sensitive spot inside you. His tongue continues to flick and suckle your clit, making you feel like you're going to explode any moment.
“Mmh Matt … ahh I-”
"You're almost there, aren't you?" He can feel your pussy starting to clench and flutter around his fingers. His fingers curl and stroke hard across your g-spot, making sure you're right on the edge. He sucks harder on your clit, flicking his tongue in response to the way you clench around him. "Cum for me, darling." he growls against your sensitive clit, feeling you quiver and shake around his fingers. He pumps them faster, curling them deeper inside you, hitting that spot that makes your legs tremble. Suddenly he slips another finger into you, making you see stars. "Come on, princess, scream for me.” Before you could finish, he suddenly pulls his fingers out of you and replaces them with his tongue. He flicks his tongue against your g-spot, feeling it quiver beneath his touch. His fingers now focus on your clit, pinching and rolling it between his thumb and index finger.
You finally cum. You come undone is his mouth and fingers. You let out a scream of pleasure as you do.
He pulls back his fingers and removes his mouth from your pussy, leaving you quivering. He smirks at you, his fingers coated in your juices, licking them slowly, his eyes locked onto yours.
You look at him, your body still quivering a bit, and you’re trying to catch your breath.
He watches you breathe heavily, your chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. He reaches up to brush a strand of hair out of your face, his hand lingering for a moment on your cheek. "You're absolutely gorgeous when you cum." he says with a satisfied smile. He admires your glistening pussy with a satisfied smirk. He leans in close and whispers in your ear, "You taste amazing, princess." His free hand moves up to your chin, gently guiding your face to meet his. He leans down and kisses you deeply, letting you taste yourself. His tongue slips in and out of your mouth with ease, mimicking the movement of what he was just doing to you. He gently strokes your quivering inner thighs, his fingers leaving trails of heat. He pulls you onto his lap, guiding you to straddle him. His erection is prominent against his pants, straining against the fabric.
You rest your head on his chest feeling tired.
He wraps his arms around you, holding you close. He runs his fingers through your hair and presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head. He can feel your heart still racing from your intense orgasm. "You okay, princess?" He murmurs softly, his hand gently stroking your back.
“Mhm” you nod softly.
He lifts your chin up to meet his gaze, his fingers tracing your jawline. “Good." He says with a small smile. He moves you off of his lap and lays you down gently on the bed, his body followed yours before he wraps you up into a spooning position. His hand comes to rest on your waist as he presses a gentle kiss to your shoulder. “Did it feel good?” He asks.
“…Yes.” You answer.
He lets out a soft chuckle, nuzzling his face into your neck, leaving a trail of kisses along your sensitive skin. “I love hearing that.” He murmurs before placing another kiss against your skin. He rests his hand against your stomach, pulling you closer. He starts to gently move his hips, pressing his erection against your ass as he grinds gently.
“Matt..” you softly say.
He stops moving his hips, his hand stilling against your stomach. He kisses your neck gently, then whispers against your skin. “Yes, princess?”
“…thank you.” You say.
“No need to thank me, doll. It’s my pleasure.” He says with a small smile that you can feel against your skin. He turns you around to face him, his hands cradling your face. He presses a soft kiss against your lips before pulling back and looking into your eyes. He sees the exhaustion and pleasure in them and can't help but smile softly. “You don't have to thank me, princess. I’m your best friend, right? I would do anything for you, that’s what best friends do.”
He tilts your chin up, his thumb gently stroking your lower lip. He watches as you cuddle closer in his arms. His breath ruffling your hair and his hips gently moving, grinding against yours. But he stops himself before losing control. "We should probably get you cleaned up and in some comfortable clothes, huh?" He suggests, his voice still soft and soothing. His hand drifts down to your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Why don’t I run you a warm bath?”
“Can we stay here, in bed?” You softly ask feeling tired.
He smiles softly, his thumb continuing to stroke your lower lip. "Of course, princess. We can stay right here." His other hand still on your thigh, he gives a gentle squeeze, his thumb rubbing small circles on your skin. He pulls the covers over you both, tucking you in close to his side.
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Tysmmmm for 150 followers 💕 this is insane. Love you guys so much 🩷
Might do a part 2 of this… with actual p in v
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Tag list: @mattsturniololover1 @immattsslut @stonermattsgf
Tags 🏷️:
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About a trending Discord warning:
TL;DR: Discord is NOT making "Find your friends" enabled by default. You're probably not giving Discord your contact information without your knowledge. Their UI choices just suck.
There's a warning post going around by a person I'm not going to name, as I don't want people to dogpile on them. That is NOT the goal of this post, and if you DO harass anyone because of what I write, then you're a garbage person with garbage habits that needs to throw those habits in the garbage.
Rather, my goal with this post is to educate about a Discord feature that's not being represented properly.
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Supposedly in the new mobile update, Discord added this ""NEW"" feature called "Find your friends", and then they enabled it by default. This feature allows users to use their smartphone contacts to search for their friends on Discord. It also enables others to be able to find you in the exact same way.
Obviously, this would be MASSIVELY dangerous from a privacy perspective.
Imagine if someone had relatives that use Discord. In a scenario like that, those relatives would have an easy way of finding the accounts of family members. And in some home situations, online anonymity from relatives could mean the difference between having an outlet and not having an outlet.
I'm also pretty sure I know some folks with alt accounts (you know who you are). And if Discord was somehow able to cross-reference all your contacts with the Discord accounts you're logged into, that would be DISASTROUSLY EMBARRASSING, to say the least.
So I totally understand how concerning this would be if it turned out to be true.
The thing is, it's not.
The person who made that warning misinterpreted THIS page:
This is the new "Add Friends" page for the Discord mobile app. Obviously, a page to help you add friends. There's a big 'ol window at the bottom showcasing Discord's "Find your friends" feature.
Now, this feature is actually NOT new. It's been around for a long time. But there's a very subtle change that happened with the new update. Take a look at how "Find your friends" used to look:
It starts by giving you a banner at the top of your friends list, telling you that this feature is available. Then when you click on it, it takes you to a page with UI elements that look awfully familiar.
It's pretty clear what happened. In an effort to condense down their friend-finding functions into one menu, Discord took the "Find your friends" setup menu and tossed it in with all the other ways to contact friends.
But by doing this, Discord has made this setup window confusing. It's not immediately obvious if the "Find your friends" feature is ON and running, or OFF and waiting to be activated.
Maybe it would have helped to make the blurple button read something like "Sync contacts" instead of "Find friends". At least then, you could tell at a glance that nothing has been sync'd yet. (Or y'know, maybe just stick to "Grant Permission". That was working just fine before.)
So it seems the OP:
Looked at the "Find your friends" setup menu that Discord hastily slapped into the "Add friends" page
Noticed the checkbox that read "Allow contacts to add me"
Saw that it was already marked
Then assumed that it must be some kind of tucked-away setting that was left ON by default.
To make this abundantly clear, "Find your friends" only works if you opt-in.
That checkmark allows you to tell Discord you are okay with people finding you in this manner. Unchecking it makes it possible to use "Find your friends" without others being able to find you the same way.
It doesn't get set up on your device until you press the big blurple "Find friends" button. Even then, you still have to add your phone number to your account and verify it via a 6-digit code sent via SMS.
After that, you have to give Discord permission to access your contacts via whatever phone OS you use.
You have to be pretty deliberate for any of these functions to start.
I won't say it's impossible to set it up on accident. It's a strange world, and stranger things have happened. If you want to, go check your app permissions to make sure you don't have contact permissions enabled for Discord. It's always good to be sure. But rest easy knowing that you probably don't have to worry about it.
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In my opinion, I think that anyone who reblogged that warning should consider reversing those reblogs.
Honestly, I also think the OP should just delete their post instead of repeatedly adding amended reblogs to it. At the end of the day, the core of that post was misinformation and misguided assumptions. There's no real reason to keep it up.
Besides, I'd rather pin Discord on things they're ACTUALLY guilty of. Like designing a new UI that's widely mocked. And making things 10x more confusing for the end-user.
Here's Discord's official "Find your friends" FAQ page:
https://support.discord.com/hc/en-us/articles/360061878534-Find-Your-Friends-FAQ
I hate to beg, but I'd appreciate if people would reblog this post. I fear that the warning post is gonna steer a LOT of people to believe a lot of things about Discord that are logically and functionally not true.
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Hi, good morning/ afternoon/ evening. I've probably read all of your work on LnD, and I love them all. If it's not too much, can I request like the boys getting a call/update from MC after a disastrous wanderer attack on the city after not being able to contact them?? If possible, established relationship😅 ... thank you for your time!
im glad you like all my writing for them!! im so aefjaweofaw please give me the next main story update - also theres lots of references/imagery of death so if youre not chill w that i will see you tomorrow [salute] - theres also some very very slight references to their myths!! it feels a little ooc to me but thats bc. i think theyd be a little ooc when faced w a tragedy like this!! i hope you like it anyway <3
Zayne holds his breath every time a new patient is admitted. The hospital is busy with all of the patients that are coming in with the disaster, a mixture of those hanging on and people running up to him because he's the closest doctor in the vicinity to confirm death.
He volunteered himself to do triage because he was convinced that he'd be able to stop you from dying, that if you came in through those doors he'd be able to separate his love for you from the mind that studied all those nights but that's impossible - he only got here because of you.
His mind runs circles around himself, almost separated from his body as he tries to figure out why you weren't there. Hopefully it's because you're fine - you don't need medical attention or the medics on site were enough for you. However, he knows there's an equal chance that it's just because a doctor onsite was able to confirm your death and now you were in some bag, stored away with the others waiting for him to come identify you.
When he finally gets a moment to himself he obsessively checks his phone, praying to something that might take enough pity on him to listen at the very least that you'll call him. Minutes turn to hours as he's called back to work. Silence is a commodity now as he's stuck in the theatre, only able to go home after he's exceeded the legal amount of hours he's allowed to work in one night.
The long turned cold water hits his muscles as his mind wanders in the quiet of his home. You still haven't called - nobody's called. He understands that surely, all of you are busy but he's been there when the calls have had to be made. To hear the sobs on the other side of the phone as a squad captain confirms the death of another hunter as they softly ask if they'd like to see the body. He's also seen the calls when the bodies are far too mangled, a sight that no loved one should have to bear. He's waiting for it, almost falling in his haste to grab his phone once it finally rings.
Your number pops up, the letters of your name taunting him as he tries to answer it. He's about ready to throw his phone on the ground from the water on his hand refusing to make picking up the call an easy feat.
"Hello?" Zayne asks, an uncharacteristic shake in his voice.
"Zayne! I'm okay!" you say, voice sounding a little weak but definitely better than he could have ever anticipated.
"Zayne? Honey? Hello?" you ask when you're met with only silence, now beginning to grow anxious yourself. You knew he must have been busy - you were too - and you thought he was safe. He should have been, you'd heard no reports of the hospital being attacked.
"You're alive," he chokes out, falling to his knees.
"Of course I am! Things have just been chaotic so I haven't had enough time to call you until now," you explain, continuing to talk to him.
You hear rustling on the other side of the phone, trying to get his attention again before he cuts you off.
"Where are you right now? Home?"
"Oh - yeah I'm on leave now. Most of us who were in active duty are to let his recuperate. How come?"
"I'll be there soon."
He hangs up immediately, leaving you a little stunned. You decide to clean up a little, having nothing else to do really until he comes over. Zayne never acts this impulsively so you assume that the day with no contact really wore on him.
Once he arrives you open the door for him, planning to apologise for the lack of contact when he almost throws himself at you. You hold him back just as tightly, a little shaken yourself as you close the door after him. You realise that for whatever reason he's soaking, unsure if you should confront that but you decide to ignore it.
He leads you right to your couch, too exhausted to even find your bedroom as he buries himself against your chest. It's not the normal way he lays with you - typically he likes to hold you - but you know not to bother him now. You can't deny you were worried about him too, knowing he probably put in a bunch of overtime at the hospital.
He holds onto you tightly, measuring out the beat of your heart. It's the only way he can remind himself that you're still alive, that the two of you have one more day together.
Xavier has never felt like he wanted to die more than in this moment. One minute you were running with him, trying to stop the Wanderer from attacking the group of civilians the next you're totally gone. Logically, he knows you're most likely fighting a Wanderer by yourself and you can handle it but somewhere he's convinced you'll die without him at your side. You've proved yourself more than capable but he worries about you all the time - he knows how to fight these things, he's been fighting them for far longer than you have - and if you died here he'd have no more reason for living.
He practically goes beserk, tearing into each and every creature with the hopes that one of them can take him to you. With each failure he starts to spiral, standing atop a pile of rubble as he watches the recovery teams start to spread into the city. It practically took an entire squadron to force him to go home, promising him that he'd be the firs t to hear once they found you.
You were diligently following Xavier when you noticed another Wanderer going after a child. You knew that he'd panic once he couldn't find you but you couldn't just abandon them. You tried to tell him you'd be splitting off but over all the screams and screeches he couldn't hear you and you couldn't waste any more time trying to get his attention.
You were able to defeat the Wanderer but not before sustaining an injury that made it too difficult for you to continue active duty, taking the child to a safe spot and staying with them until help arrived. You ended up passing out from the pain shortly thereafter, waking up a day later to Tara in your face heaving a sigh of relief as she called for a doctor to come check on you.
Your body was simply fatigued and after an extra day of monitoring and ensuring you were receiving everything you needed to make sure you wouldn't collapse again when you get home. You nod, knowing what procedure is at this point. You reach out for your phone once the doctor leaves, knowing that Xavier must be worried out of his mind.
You're right, of course. He's laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling as he waits for someone to call him. He saw the scale of disaster this attack was, knows that everything is absolutely awful and he's not the only one waiting for news but every minute that passes is another minute you could be trapped, praying that he's coming there to save you.
He decides to ignore the strict orders he's gotten, suiting up to go help the recovery efforts. He was going bad staying in bed all day, unable to get a wink of sleep as pictures of your suffering flash across his tortured mind. Working on pulling valuables and any remnants of life is depressing on a good day but right now it's downright torturous. He can't help but think that the next thing he pulls out is going to be your hand, severed far from your body.
When his phone rings everything disappears. He quickly picks up, steeling his expression to avoid making things worse should someone look over at him. He doesn't even notice who called him, just hoping that it was someone with news.
"Oh! You picked up fast. Are you just sitting at home then?" you ask casually, so casually he thinks it's almost cruel. How could you act so nonchalant about the fact that you held his life in your hands, that you are the only thing in this world he can bear to wake up for?
"No, I'm helping the recovery efforts despite orders. I...it was too quiet at home," he offers as an explanation and you hum. He can imagine you nodding, tapping your chin as you think to yourself.
"If you missed me you could have just said so," you tease, hoping that the ease in your voice will make him relax.
"Of course I did. Is that even a question? Are you able to take visitors?' You know what, doesn't matter. I'll just wait there until you are. I'll see you soon love."
He hangs up quickly and you know that he'll appear in the hospital within the next two seconds with that uncanny ability of his. You straighten yourself out a little, knowing that you were injured but not wanting to look like a total mess.
You can hear his footsteps running up to your door, slamming it open as he catches his breath. You've never seen him out of breath before - maybe he's much more tired than you initially thought.
"You made it," you laugh, making a slight sound from the impact of him practically jumping at you, holding you tightly as he buries his face into your neck.
"I was worried about you," he says softly, looking up at you. "I thought you'd been hurt, badly. And I wasn't there to protect you."
You sigh, helping him sit down into the chair at your bedside. You offer him your hand which he holds gratefully, never taking his eyes off of you.
"I know. I'm sorry. But look, I'm okay now, aren't I?"
He ignores the pain in his chest, trying not to imagine how heavy your hand would feel in his if you really had drawn your last breath. That weight is far too familiar to him, haunting his every thought in the hours that passed between then and now.
"You are. And I'm going to make sure you stay that way," he promises.
Rafayel didn't even know there was an attack until far after it. He knew you were working and that sometimes, you'd accidentally go MIA. You'd already texted him before your mission anyway and then he got drawn into another project of his and completely lost track of time. It's not until the next day that he finally sees his phone and the message from Thomas telling him not to come into the city for supplies for a day or so.
He immediately starts looking through articles, scouring pages that are constantly updating the death toll in search of your face. He curses himself for not paying attention earlier - every minute he wasted on some stupid was another minute you could have spent at Death's door, all because he allowed himself to forget that nothing matters if it's not you.
It's obsessive the way he looks through all of them, calling your phone non stop all the while. Every time he gets sent to voicemail he feels his breath get knocked out of his lungs, resorting to blowing up your phone with texts. When it's clear you aren't replying he grabs his keys to drive into Linkon despite Thomas' suggestion, knuckles white on the steering wheel as he heads to the hospital.
Even in all the chaos people can't help but stare a little as Rafayel makes his way to the counter, demanding someone tell him where you were. He's really trying not to be a brat, promising you that he'd be nicer to people but when it's your life on the line everything is up for debate. He goes through any and every possibility, figuring out what he can do to guarantee your survival.
Unfortunately for him, he gets escorted out. Jenna tries to calm him down, telling him that he'd be the first to know if they had any updates on you. Right now everything was just far too messy to know anything about anyone and there was a good chance that you were just being treated at a different hospital than usual due to the high causality count. He doesn't take no for an answer and manages to strong arm the name of the other hospitals you could have been sent to, starting up his car again right as his phone lights up with your name.
"What do you think you're doing not answering your phone?!" he yells, making you flinch.
Rafayel's never been mad at you, certainly not to this extent but you know that it's because he's anxious. He immediately catches himself too and you hear it, catching the sound of his hands against his steering wheel as he takes a deep breath.
"I'm sorry. Just - where are you?" he asks, sounding so exhausted that you feel like crying.
"I'm okay Rafayel," you say instead, adding the name of your hospital. He's immediately driving over as you talk to him, keeping your voice even.
"I was split up from the group is all, then triaged at a different hospital. I'm fine though - I managed to just sprain my wrist from overexertion so I'll have a sling for a bit-"
"You're staying with me then. I'm not having you stay alone with a broken wrist. Knowing you you'd do something dumb and make it worse," he scoffs, trying his best to drive safely to see you again. You don't bother to correct him, knowing that's the least of your worries.
You fall quiet, not sure how to respond. Rafayel has always been good at masking how he feels, rarely showing you what he's hiding behind his mask. Now he's an open book, making it clear that nothing will be okay until he sees you again.
"Okay," you agree, leaning further back into the pillows of your hospital bed. "They wanted me to be released into the care of someone if I could anyway. That's why I was calling you - that, and trying to return all your missed calls."
"Thank you," he says so quietly you barely hear him over the sound of his car.
"Of course my love," you say just as softly. "I knew you'd worry as soon as you saw the news."
Another moment passes between the two of you. Rafayel thinks his heart fell out of his chest - or it would have if it was still his to hold. Instead, it's beating firmly in your palm, only able to do so under your affections.
"Rafayel, I'm really fine, I promise. I'm just hungry. Let's get something for dinner, yeah?" you offer, hoping to redirect his energy.
"Yeah," he replies, exhaling deeply.
"Anything you want my beloved. Just name it and it's yours."
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Would you be willing write a Remus fic about that super blue moon that is supposed to be happening??
like maybe it’s so so bad for him and he takes it all out on reader and she’s really sensitive and you can go from there lol
that’d be great love but it’s okay if not, thanks!! <3
thanks for the request! decided to make this with our Black!sister reader since we've been having fun with her <3
Remus Lupin x Black!reader who he takes out his Super Blue Moon frustrations on [1.6k words]
CW: Remus was being mean/rude to reader but we don't really see the angst... just the consequences of the angst, hurt/comfort, big brother Sirius having absolutely NONE of the nonsense!
“Hey moons, have you seen my sister around lately?” Sirius asked nonchalantly as he entered their shared dorm room; noticing immediately the tension in Remus’ shoulders as he positioned his body away from the door.
“How should I know?” Remus muttered darkly. “I’m not her keeper.”
And though Sirius had tried to be cool when he first realised his baby sister and best friend had less than platonic feelings for each other and vowed to stay out of their relationship, there were unfortunately some things that Sirius couldn’t let slide.
“Did she eat all of your chocolate?” He asked calmly, causing Remus to roll his shoulders in an attempt to pacify himself.
“No?”
“M’kay.” Sirius agreed as he put his school books in his trunk. “Did she throw your books into the Black lake?”
“Sirius.” Remus hissed warningly.
“Did she tell Snape to sneak out after curfew to the Whomping Willow one night so that he would come face to face with Moony, only for James to have to fight you off of him as Snape ran for his life? Oh, wait, that was me.”
“Fuck off, Sirius.”
“No thanks.” Sirius huffed as he closed his trunk with a thud. “Well, if she hasn’t done any of those things, why are you treating her like such an arse?”
“I’m not treating her like anything, Pads. Stay out of it.” Remus nearly growled as he stood abruptly from his desk and moved towards his bed.
“Shan’t.” Sirius refused, following his friend across the room. “You chose to date my sister, you have to deal with the consequences.”
“Great bloody choice I made.” Remus muttered petulantly, yelping when a book hit him in the head.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” He hissed as he looked at Sirius who was staring him down defiantly.
“If you know what’s good for you, Rem, you will never speak about my sister like that again, got it?”
Remus seemed to relent as he laid back on his bed and pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to bring his boiling anger down to a simmer.
“I’m the first to admit that Black’s are not often a good bunch, but if a Black could be perfect, she’s about as close as they would come. And I don’t like seeing her this terrified.”
Remus sat up at that, narrowing his eyes at his friend in confusion. “She’s not terrified of me.”
Sirius shrugged in disagreement. “She tenses every time you walk into the Great Hall and can’t seem to make eye contact with you, which usually only happens after a crucio or two from mummy dearest.”
Sirius watched the fight leave Remus almost immediately as he looked down at his lap in shame. “She’s…sensitive, Rem. We all are, we-” Sirius cut himself off as he stared unseeingly at the stone wall behind his mates head. “We can’t handle these kinds of moods as well as some other people can; tension and anger always led to pain and punishment growing up.”
“It’s not her, Pads.” Remus whispered.
“I know it’s not. Somewhere deep down she might know that too but…”
“I know.” Remus offered, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “It’s this…this fucking moon, I- it’s driving me barmy.”
“I understand that, but you can’t take it out on her; it’s not her fault.” Sirius offered gently before retreating from the dorm to allow his friend to digest what he said; he may not like the fact that his best friend and sister found their way to each other, but he also knew that both of you deserved to be happy. If he could help you both achieve that by being supportive, well, supportive he would be.
。.。:+* ゚ ゜゚ *+:。.。:+* ゚ ゜゚ *+:。.。.。:+*゚ ゜゚ *+:。.。:+*゚
Remus felt shame course through his body as he walked through the library in search of you.
Between his senses being heightened this close to the moon, the additional magic at play with the super blue moon, and the fact that he knew you were a creature of habit and had a table you often frequented, it didn’t take him long to find you.
“Mind if I join you?” He asked quietly, feeling his heart crack painfully when you did, indeed, flinch at the sound of his voice and sat impossibly straighter in your chair.
“Okay.” You whispered in response, not looking away from your book as he moved to sit across the table from you, though he could tell you were no longer reading as your eyes remained glued to one spot.
“I’m sorry that I’ve been such an arse, Dove.”
“It’s okay.” You said quickly, still not looking at him.
“No it’s not.” He argued softly.
He watched your jaw tighten as you repositioned yourself in your chair in obvious discomfort.
“It’s this moon.” You explained breezily.
“Which isn’t your fault, and I shouldn’t be taking it out on you- dove, can you look at me? Please?”
He watched your throat constrict as you stole yourself and brought your eyes up to his. They were glossy, but not like you were about to cry - glossy like you were hiding, like you were occluding.
He hated it; hated that you were hiding from him, hated that you felt like you had to hide from him, hated that he made you feel like you had to hide from him, hated that you even knew how to hide inside your own mind at all.
“Dovey, look at me.” He repeated gently in hopes that you’d let the walls down, daring to reach a hand across the table in invitation.
He watched as your eyes flit to his hand and back up again and he tried to keep his face neutral; no pressure or force as he let you decide if you were willing to trust him.
You placed your hand in his, but kept your gaze pointed at your joined hands.
“I know better than to let my moods affect you, sweetheart. I’m sorry.” He pressed sincerely.
You scoffed and moved your gaze to one of the rafters above you. “I’m not some delicate flower you need to tiptoe around, Remus; I can handle a bad mood.” You shot back defensively.
“I know…” He whispered as he rubbed circles on the back of your hand with his thumb.
He knew you weren’t a delicate flower; on the contrary, you were one of the strongest people he’d ever met.
You gave the entire Hufflepuff house a run for their money on who was the most loyal wix in the castle. You always looked out for your brothers, constantly playing referee, devils advocate, and a surrogate parent for the two young Black boys. You grew up making sure Sirius never acted too outlandishly or brought too much trouble onto himself, making sure Regulus wasn’t completely beaten down into nothing and grew up to be a semi-decent boy, and taking the blame when you were unable to do either of those things.
And to top it all off, you put up with him; a foul-mouthed, poor, Welsh, anger-issue riddled boy who didn’t deserve you.
“Baby, look at me, please.” He begged, reaching forward with his other hand so he was holding your one in between both of his.
You turned your gaze to him and it seemed to be taking everything in your power to hold his gaze.
“I’m so sorry, my love.” He whispered, bringing your hand to his lips to press a kiss to your fingers.
Your eyes tracked the movement before flitting back up to his.
You offered him a curt nod and chewed on your bottom lip. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” You whispered, eyes turning glossy for a whole new reason.
Remus made a pitiful sound from the back of his throat and stood to move to the chair beside you, never relinquishing his grasp on your hand.
“You didn’t upset me, dove, I was just upset. And an arse; don’t forget the part about me being an arse.”
You offered him a wet chuckle at that as you sniffed, returning his hold of your hand and giving it a squeeze.
“I hate not being able to…help, to take any of the burden off of you, to make it at all less painful for you.”
“You do, sweetheart, you do. By being here, and being with me, and being patient even when I’m an arse, okay?” He insisted, punctuating each reason he was grateful for you with a squeeze of your hand. “I don’t deserve it but I’m so lucky to have you.”
“You do deserve it.” You murmured, bringing your eyes back up to his.
And he couldn’t help himself, really; he had always been powerless against the pull you had on him and this time was no different as he closed the distance between the two of you to press a lingering kiss to your lips.
“The point of all this,” Remus said as he broke away from you and bumped your nose with his, “is that you didn’t deserve to be treated the way that I treated you this week, and I won’t let it happen again, okay?”
You gave him a sad smile and gave his nose a bump in return.
“How mad was Sirius?”
“Fuming.” Remus admitted immediately.
“Did he throw a pillow at you?”
“A book.” He corrected solemnly, earning him an astonished look from you.
“Oh…you crossed a line.”
Remus nodded abashedly. “Honestly? I think it might be harder to get him to forgive me than it was to get you to forgive me.”
Remus relished in the surprised laugh that bubbled out of you at that, and he vowed to never ever let another moon cause him to go this long without hearing it again.
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“Autism isn’t a disability”, “it’s just a difference”.
I am of lower support needs. I hold down a (part time) job. I have travelled around my home country. I live alone.
At work they complain about my speech. I’m too quiet, they say, “barely audible” is the words used at my autism assessment. My voice is all monotone, and it needs to be more expressive. I get this complaint every week for a year straight, until my manager gives up. I don’t attend trainings because I forget and find it overwhelming anyways. My coworkers form friendships, and I watch them talk, wondering how they make it look so easy. I get a new manager, I tell her I find the work socials too overwhelming to attend. She tells me I can just say I don’t want to come. I don’t know how to tell her that I desperately want to, to be like the rest of my coworkers, instead of constantly being the one sat on the sidelines.
I come home, and I can hear my neighbours again. The niggling background noise messes with my head, and I meltdown; I throw myself on the floor, I hit my head on the ground repeatedly as I scream and cry, tear out my hair and scratch my arms and face. When I complain, people tell me that I just have to accept that neighbours make noise, that I should just ignore it, or block it out. I am the problem, the one overreacting. I put in earplugs and it hurts and I'm crying again. I wear headphones but I can't handle the noise for that long.
I have reminders set for everything. Every chore, no matter how big or small. My phone beeps at me, reminding me that I need to wash the dishes. If I don't go now, then tick the little box on my phone to say I did it, it won't get done. My home is almost always a mess despite this. It's not just chores either. I won't think to wash, dress myself, brush my teeth or hair, without those reminders. And unless someone actively prompts me to do so, I will do those tasks "wrong". I haven't changed my underwear in a month, and I'm currently aware that's a problem, but within the hour I'm going to forget all over again until I'm next prompted.
I can't sleep without medication - it's not unusual for autistic people to have messed up circadian rhythms. Without my medication it's hard to even tell when I'm awake and when I'm asleep. When I was younger and at school I slept through so many lessons, and when I have my mandatory breaks from my sleep meds I sleep through every alarm I set. I want to work full time some day, and I'm terrified of what my sleep issue will mean for me then.
I don't travel independently. I don't travel anywhere alone, always with someone or to someone. If to someone, I have assistance the whole way. I find it embarrassing sometimes. Yes, I have a job that requires a certain level of intelligence. No, I cannot get on a train by myself. If I am not shown To The Train, To My Seat, I will be unable to travel.
Last time I travelled, I was left alone at the station for ten minutes. I stayed rigid and sobbed the whole time. I was overwhelmed. It was too loud, I didn't know where I was or where I was meant to be going, and until the assistance person came back I couldn't do anything because for some reason I cannot understand it.
I spend a lot of time trying to explain to people that despite my relative competence, I am unable to do many things. Why can I understand high level maths but not how to get on a damn train? No fucking idea.
"Autism isn't a disability" most severely affects those with higher support needs, and this is absolutely not to take away from them. But for fucks sake, autism is disabling.
Maybe you personally are extremely lucky and just find you're a little "socially awkward", or just find some textures painful or nauseating. Maybe you would be fine with just a couple of adjustments.
But for a lot of us, even lower support needs autistics, it doesn't work like that. I will never sleep properly without medication. I still have the self-harming type of meltdowns as an adult, over things that are deemed as being "just part of life". I live alone but have daily visits from family - if I'm left fully alone I forget all the little daily things one is "meant" to do. I had speech therapy as a child to get me to the "barely audible" "mostly correct" speech. I don't mask, I'm not really sure how I would to begin with.
I'm not unhappy with being autistic. It's just who I am. Life would be easier if I were neurotypical, but I also wouldn't be me. I just wish those luckier than me could...stop saying it's all chill and not at all a disability.
Because yes, socially, I am "awkward". I obviously don't make eye contact - I stare down and to the side of whoever I speak to. People think it's weird or creepy or a sign of disinterest. My autism assessor wrote down about how I often use words and phrases that don't make sense to others, even though they make perfect sense to me. In my daily life this means I'm frequently misunderstood, and have to try explain what I mean, when what I mean is exactly what I said, and the true issue is that what I mean just doesn't make sense to others. I gesture, at times, but again, my gestures apparently don't make sense in relation to what I'm saying. I take things literally, I have almost no filter, and I can't explain how I go from topic to topic.
And yes, I do have sensory problems. Sometimes people, including others with sensory problems, tell me that "sometimes sensory issues have to be tolerated", and I wonder what they think of as being sensory issues. I'm sure they do struggle, but if I say I can't handle a touch, I mean you will need to forcefully hold it against me for me to touch it more than a second and it will make me meltdown. If I say "I can't eat that", I mean that I am unable to swallow it, that I will gag and choke and inevitably spit it back out, as much as I try. If I say I can't handle a noise, I mean I'm so close to a meltdown and my meltdowns are a problem for everyone around me.
But yes. Autism. Not a disability. Just a fun quirky difference.
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