#i hope this is articulate and easy to understand!

[auau5n]

my family is having a hard time understanding what feeling like a boy is/ what it means to be trans. they're supportive, but they can't understand what defines being a girl/boy/nonbinary, or feeling those ways. so! if you could put in the tags or comments what it means to be trans/cis to you and explain that to the best of your ability, that would help me a lot. also reblog for greater reach of course. thanks for the help guys :]

[aeide-thea]

i get a little on my high horse sometimes abt the way in which cishet+ culture will sometimes (usually implicitly) link, hm how to put this, gender hypersaturation with attractiveness—like, dialing up the level of eg Manliness gets framed as inherently also dialing up someone's level of sexiness

this has always seemed totally nuts to me, as someone frequently attracted to very effeminate men+ and very androgynous women+

but i definitely do kind of frame my own self-criticism in terms of like. 'failing at masculine model of attractiveness, failing at feminine model of attractiveness, guess i gotta just go sit by myself in my miserable little mudpit'

which is like. literally what even, self. like. is 'thumbing my nose at all binary standards' not. the nominal objective actually. and yet!!

[mstase]

— ; ASTROLOGY OBSERVATIONS

mercury-venus people usually possess nicely shaped, plump, and rosy lips. their voices are soothing and pleasant to listen to, and they have a charming and articulate way of expressing themselves. 🤌🗣️

people with moon-neptune aspects feel emotions more intensely and get easily hurt by the slightest things. their emotions are like sponges, soaking up feelings from around them because their emotional boundaries are not as clear. it’s crucial for them to develop healthy ways to handle emotions and set boundaries to navigate their feelings.

i have never met someone with mars-pluto who isn’t deeply committed to their pursuits. these people exhibit a fervent and determined approach to their hobbies, goals, and preferences. very intense when passionate about something. 👺

people with venus in 4th house are so sentimental, which they express by taking photos and collecting things that hold significance to them. these individuals find joy in revisiting cherished memories, often feeling a strong sense of nostalgia and fondness when reminiscing about the past.

aries risings are so easy to spot, imo. their goal-oriented and driven personalities are so noticeable. they always effortlessly carry themselves with a sense of confidence, even if they aren’t feeling that way. also, they have the body goals and can seem to be everyone’s type. 👠

i feel like people with venus in 10th house are more inclined to keep their romantic relationships private and not show off their partners in a flamboyant or public manner. there could be a preference for a more reserved and discreet expression of affection, aligning with the conservative traits associated with capricorn.

also, they value their reputation highly, and as a result, they may be sensitive to criticism. the fear of negative judgment or criticism can affect them emotionally, leading them to be cautious and selective in how much they disclose about their personal life in public settings.

jupiter in 11th house natives are so lucky when it comes to friends. they have a natural ability to gain favor and support from others, especially within their social circles. their optimistic and generous nature can attract friends who are willing to help them in their personal and intellectual growth

natives with saturn-ascendant may naturally have a serious or contemplative facial expression, which can lead others to assume they are upset or mad even when they may not be. 🤷🏻‍♀️

pluto in 7th house people have *major* trust issues, often stemming from deep-seated experiences of being used or witnessing toxic relationships, particularly within their family or home environment. this placement can make them psychologically inclined to analyze and understand someone on a profound level before forming close connections.

mars in taurus individuals tend to exhibit a slower pace in their movements, including walking. these individuals may find comfort in taking their time, preferring a measured and persistent stride over hurried or impulsive actions.

this is really short but i hope you enjoyed reading it <3 @mstase

[atticrissfinch]

You're a Mansion with a View (joel miller x fem!reader) (18+) | oneshot

pairing: daddydom!joel miller x fem!reader summary: After a rough day, Joel gives you exactly what you need. warnings/tags:  [18+ MINORS DNI] established relationship, light ddlg dynamic, dom/sub, daddy!kink, softdom!joel (who even am I), oral (m & f receiving), unprotected piv, referring to reader’s pussy as her “kitten” ig if that squicks you, this is like really soft and fluffy d/s idk what happened word count: ~2.2K | ao3 a/n: coming out of a little writing rut and wanted to try and get something out! Shout out to @javier-penas-wifexx420 for a request they sent to my inbox featuring a completely submissive reader in a ddlg dynamic (i'm hoarding the real ask in case i want to write something a little more ~spicy for it since this is so light 😌). But I hope y'all enjoy a little softer dom!joel 😊 Masterlist | Kofi

You’re already on your knees in the foyer, stark naked, by the time Joel’s key is rattling in the door. 

You don’t always do this. You like to surprise him every now and then, and he likes the surprise. 

When he successfully unlocks the door and opens it to see you, supplicant and willing on the floor for him, and you see the anxiety and stress melt off his face into an expression of warmth and affection—that’s what you do this for. That alone makes it worth it. 

And he doesn’t disappoint; he never does. He stares at you with that awe and wonder, like it’s the first time. He kicks off his boots and presses the door shut. 

And then he’s in front of you, tilting your chin up with reverent tenderness. “Hi, babygirl.”

A smile breaks across your face and your eyes flutter closed as he strokes your cheek. “Hi, daddy.”

“You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you, baby?”

“I try, daddy.”

“Well, you succeed.” 

Your heart surges at the praise, and you feel a prickling start in your eyes. 

His thumb fusses with your bottom lip, smoothing across it and pulling it down just to let it pop back. “Why this today, baby? You need me?”

You ease your eyes open and nod up at him and his creased brow. “Yes, please.”

You can go over the details later. About how shitty your day was, how out of control your own life is feeling around you. You just want to focus on this. What you can control. Or, more suitably, what Joel can take off your plate for you. The way you trust him implicitly, give yourself over to him so he can care for you in a way no one else ever has, ever could. 

He nods his head back in understanding, the backs of his fingers tracing up the side of your face until he’s petting down your hair with a steady hand. “It’s okay, babygirl. Daddy’s here for you. I’m gonna make it all better, alright?”

You rapidly blink out the tears forming in your eyes as you nod again, leaning into his touch. “Thank you, daddy.”

“Let’s go to the bedroom,” He guides, helping you to your feet and pulling you in close to him with a solid, sturdy hug. “It’ll be okay,” He reassures again into your hair. 

“I know.”

Once you’re in the bedroom, he prompts you to your knees again, this time on the much more forgiving carpet with a pillow underneath them. 

“Are you gonna make daddy feel good?” He asks, sliding his belt from his jeans and unfastening them. 

“Yes, daddy,” You reply, second nature this far into your relationship. Almost everything is yes daddy or no daddy when you’re like this. No pressure from him to articulate cohesive, flowery responses. Just affirmatives and negatives. Easy. 

He allows you to turn off your brain and just be. Just do as he says with one unified goal: make him feel good. 

You couldn’t care less about yourself, your own pleasure—although Joel does. He never leaves you out to dry. But you never ask for it. He just knows, he’s always known. Like his sixth sense is knowing what you require that you never verbalize, or maybe that you don’t even know yourself. 

He’s hard and thick as he strokes himself tantalizingly in front of you. “Come get your treat,” He encourages, his voice already going deep and raspy with his own arousal, “Get your reward for being daddy’s good girl.”

He never has to tell you twice. He says it, you do it. You know some submissives like to argue, like the back and forth of the power struggle. That’s never been you. You derive the most pleasure from the thought of his unwavering hand above you, driving you to do exactly as he desires. You think you won the jackpot with Joel, with a man who never takes advantage of your submission and always shows appreciation and humility at your choice to submit to him. 

He does get rough, and he does like to use you, but never in a manner that is unwelcome. You’re two sides of the same coin. He’s the head. The brains for both of you. And you? Well, you’re the tail. And you both like it that way. 

You take him in your mouth with an eagerness that has him laughing breathlessly above you. “Oh, you needed this, huh, princess? That’s all you need, isn’t it? Just daddy’s cock.”

You moan around him as you sink further down on him, working the base with your hand. You love how he fills you, love the gentle, yet unyielding hand at the back of your head as you move on him. He coaxes you deeper until he’s tickling the back of your throat, far enough that you have to remove your hand for him to feed you more of him. 

“That’s it, pretty girl,” He moans as your throat relaxes around him in well-practiced precision. “Always take me so fuckin’ good. Little throat was made for daddy’s cock, wasn’t it?”

You choke briefly on it as your lungs claw for air, but you force them into their own kind of submission in your efforts to please Joel. You can feel your throat pulsing around him in desperation until you at last detach yourself, your saliva clinging in slippery strings to his shaft and your breath rushing back in harried and refreshing. 

“Good fucking girl, baby. Now back in. You know.”

And you do. You’re already halfway down his cock again when he says it. His hand tugs at the hair shy of your scalp as he feels your throat wrapping around him again, gripping him like you never want him to leave. Never want to allow you to come back up for air. 

His hips buck into you, smashing your nose into his hip bone as he claims you like he has hundreds of times before. You know precisely when he’s getting close, because his thighs beneath your hands begin to shake. 

He yanks you off to save himself from shooting down your throat, his fingers forming a vice at the base of his cock and behind his balls to stem his release. “Fuck, babygirl. Throat is so goddamn tight. So fuckin’ wet. Every fuckin’ time. Never get used to it.”

You beam with pride, shining and messy with your own spit and tears, pressing a wet, sloppy kiss to his hip as you gaze up at him like he hung the moon just for you. 

You’re scrambling onto the bed as soon as he directs you, your pussy drenched and begging for him between your legs. His broad shoulders spread your thighs, hooking them over his shoulders as his face greets your glistening heat. 

“All this for me, babygirl?” He teases, running a knuckle over your throbbing clit and through your slick folds. And as much as you want to watch him work, the flood of pleasure you derive from that single motion has your head flopping back against the pillows. 

“Yes, daddy,” You whimper as you feel his tongue slipping between your lips, “All for you. Always.”

“That’s my girl,” He mumbles before closing his lips around your clit and preemptively strapping an arm across your waist, already anticipating the way your hips always strain to get closer. 

“Fuck,” You whine breathily, your hips twitching into his mouth as his tongue flicks at your bundle of nerves, already spiraling you close to the edge. And as he reads your body, he tapers off, diving his tongue back down into your folds in broad strokes. You shiver as your climax evades you, but you don’t complain. Joel knows what he’s doing; he always does. 

The tip of his tongue penetrates your hole, and a heavy sigh breaks free from your chest. He fucks you leisurely, and even through your tightly shut eyes you can feel his own burning holes through you as he winds you up. 

His thumb rubs tight circles over your clit as he fucks you open around his tongue, and you’re teetering on the edge again. You feel your core tightening, and he’s not letting up. Even though you know what his answer will be, you know to ask anyway. 

“Fuck, daddy, can I…can I please…please come?”

His breath is hot on your cunt as he green lights with a “Yes, babygirl,” and plunges his tongue back inside you, his thumb on your clit shoving you headfirst into your orgasm. You feel your pussy pulse around his tongue as you throb under the ministrations of his hand, your fingers diving into his hair for purchase on something to ground you. 

Your hips thrust into him in aftershocks, hindered by the arm still thrown around your waist. “Daddy, please,” You whine as the sensitivity takes hold and Joel’s mouth sucks kisses up and down your cunt. You can feel his smile in his actions, finally relenting when he deems you’ve had enough. 

“Just such a tasty little kitten you’ve got, babygirl. You know I can’t help myself,” He says, his chin perched on your hip with a smug grin. “You need daddy to fuck this little kitten too?”

“Yes, please, daddy,” You whimper, tugging lightly on his hair. 

Joel only leaves the bed long enough to strip himself down before rejoining you, guiding you onto your side and molding himself into you from behind. His hand parts your thigh upwards and he positions it into the crook of his arm, spreading you open for him. 

His mouth sucks kisses into your neck as his hips grind against your ass, the slick head of his cock gliding between your bodies. His nose outlines your jaw up to the shell of your ear. “Put daddy inside it, babygirl.”

A pitiful whine escapes at his words. Your hand slithers between your legs, reaching back to grip his cock behind you. You free him from between you and notch him at your opening. Joel grunts in your ear as the tip breaches your hole, rocking his hips forward teasingly. 

You sigh at the stretch—and it’s always a stretch, as big as he is—and give yourself over to him. 

As if you were ever your own since you’d met him. 

“That’s so good, baby. So tight around daddy.” He pushes himself all the way in with one continuous thrust, burying himself into you with a devastating intensity. The gasp that leaves you has Joel exhaling a light, groaning laugh. “Does daddy feel good, babygirl? Does he fill up your kitten nice and full?”

“Yes, daddy,” You moan, your hips already seeking him out, trying to suck him in deeper. “Need you, please.”

“I know, baby. Daddy needs you, too,” He moans as he begins to fuck into you with hunger and heft. “Need to be so. Fucking. Deep inside you, babygirl,” He grunts, punctuating his words with his hips. 

Your head tips back to rest on his shoulder in a silent cry as he spreads you open wider, snapping his hips into you as he pants into your ear. 

“Kitten takes me so fuckin’ good. Gives daddy exactly what he wants, huh? Opens right up for me.”

“Yes, daddy,” You keen, your hand flying to grip his hair and pull his face into your neck. 

“Oh, fuck, daddy’s gonna come right inside your kitten, babygirl. Gonna flood that little pussy with my load, fill you so full.”

“Fuck, yes, daddy,” You whine, desperately grinding your hips back onto him, meeting his thrusts. “Please come inside me,” You beg, your breath hitching as his teeth scrape at your skin. 

“God, you beg so pretty for daddy. Get ready for it, baby. Gonna—oh fuck,” He chokes out as his hips slam into you again and again, groaning out his release and flooding you just as he promised. Just as you crave constantly. 

Even after his climax has long receded, he keeps you plugged, full of his cock and his come. Giving you time to soak him in, feel him inside you physically the way he is emotionally at every other second of the day. Your leg slips from its temporary home in the crook of his elbow and hooks around his leg behind you, urging him forward as if he could get any closer to you than he already has been. His arms clutch you to him around your waist, your feet tangled together, your heads craned to satisfy the lazy drag of your lips against each other’s. And you just exist for a few blissful moments, unable to extract one of you from the other. 

“Daddy loves you so fuckin’ much, you know that, baby?”

Every ounce of tension, every trace of stress, evaporated in the presence of those words. 

“I know, daddy. I love you too.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Not right now.” Not in this perfect moment with him. Not with him inextricably attached at every square inch of your body. Maybe later. Much, much later. When he’s fucked another load inside you. When the sweat has dried on the sheets from whatever number of orgasms he sees fit to pry from your overstimulated pussy and vibrating thighs. 

And he kisses you again because he doesn’t need you to say any of that. He just knows. 

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[pinksugarscrub]

O Sweet Juliet

Tom! Peter Parker x fem! reader

Art by @froggheadd Scenario by heihei.edits on tiktok (Thank you again! 🩷)

Warnings: idiots in love

Words: 946

~

“Pete?” 

Your voice so soft it's barely above a whisper. Peter immediately perks up and drops his pencil. Like he's been waiting to hear your voice. His eyes search yours as he smiles.

“Yeah?”

“What’s this?” 

Scooting your stool closer you ignore the loud squeak it makes across the lab's tile. Peter meanwhile slides his study guide away to the edge of the desk to make room for your textbook, English. 

The pages contrast the formulas and theories Peter has been studying for over the past hour. 

Normally the two of you would use a timer to keep from overloading your brains. But with finals coming up and an important mission soon after, you had to cram as much information as you could. Ned would also have joined but declined under the excuse his Lola needed him.

He really was your wingman when it came to Peter. You did however, owe him a cartilage of web fluid to mess around with for missing today's study session.

You trace your finger along stanzas before finally reaching line fifty-two. Reciting it before referring back to the essay prompt for your last paper.

“I understand Shakespeare was using pathos but how exactly does that connect to this?” 

Peter leaned over you and despite the close proximity he felt so far away. His chin almost resting on your shoulder as he scanned the text. Romeo and Juliet, a “classic”. What? You can't help it if MJ degrades the play every chance she gets. 

“Well…” He licked his lips before pulling away. Flipping through the pages as he continued. “The story is about love being blind, right?”

You nod as you look at him quizzically but still with enough patience that you don't interrupt. 

“Young love specifically.” Peter finally stops on the prologue. Sticky notes littered in the margins much like the rest of your textbook. Definitions and context mostly.

“Shakespeare sets up this narrative from the beginning.” 

The rest of his words fall on deaf ears as you admire him. Peter hasn't noticed that when concentrated, he taps his foot incessantly. Biting his nails as he articulates his next thought. His lashes fluttering remind you of how jealous you are over them.

“So…” you clear your throat as you look back to the textbook. What little words you did catch clicking together like cogs. “By setting up how completely infatuated they are-”

“-their deaths become the payoff,” he completes. Smiling even brighter as he notices that look of understanding flashing in your eyes. One he's seen all too often when you work on Stark tech.

He thinks you're just as bad as his mentor when it comes to your inability to take breaks. The restlessness you get from not being able to solve a miscalculation that leads to midnight coffee runs to the seven-eleven around the corner. Not that he's complaining. If anything, he hopes you'll get the craving for something sweet so he can whisk you away. Have you all to himself without the prying eyes of the other avengers.

Peter's quite aware Tony is hovering through the surveillance cameras. He wouldn't even be surprised if the rest of the team was watching them like their own personal home movie. Frankly he's tired of getting teased, especially by Thor.

“Ok…Ok so-” You shift closer and Peter feels his heart lurch in his chest. It's like you affect him so much his own body can't take being near you. 

Would you mind if he peppered kisses along your cheeks when it gets too cold? Hold your hands as he stares at you like you're the most precious thing in his life.

He sometimes wonders if you feel the same way but with how easy you seem to make these interactions he thinks not. Maybe you know enough that these teasing touches are a way to torture him.

“-the scene where they first meet. That's the main foundation for how the reader sees them as a couple.”

Peter nods as he tries not to lean in and kiss you. His eyes dancing between your lips and the pencil you keep chewing on.

“Being star crossed lovers heightens the effect and makes us root for them,” you mumble,“and again is why their deaths are so effective at evoking pathos.”

“Right,” he chuckles.

You lean back but not to far. Stretching your arms over your head as you look down at the mess of notes and candy wrappers you made on Tony's desk. If anything it's to hide how hot your cheeks feel.

“Cool, thanks Pete.” You sneak a glance at him with a quick smile before quickly doting down the major points of your conversation. Ignoring how your heart races once he finally looks away.

“Of course,” he hums. Mind lost on the homework he was doing previously. All these numbers mean squat when you're sitting next to him. His grades would absolutely suffer if he had to share more than one period with you.

Peter must have reread ‘what is the missing angle?’ a dozen times between looking over at you while you admire his reflection through the lab doors.

And Bruce…well Bruce just smiles against his coffee mug as he sees your hand reach out for Peter's under the desk. He hopes you like the anniversary gift he helped Peter pick out.

Somewhere Thor is handing over his stash of pop tarts while Natasha grins over her newfound prize. She gives it until prom season when Peter will have no choice but to ask you out on a date while Tony says it'll be less than a week because that's when the mission is. Adrenaline does something to you y'know?

[marigoldsandbuttercups]

maybe s/o seems quiet, calm and even shy at times, but it turns out that they used to work as a stripper and they were super famous and made a lot of money. s/o stopped because they were afraid that because of their non-standard work, the skellies would want to leave s/o. For Ut, Us and Uf.

love your blog☺️

Woah That's A Cool Job, Bro

(Why thank ya, friend. I really appreciate that 💖)

Sans: "huh," he starts out, and doesn't really elaborate much on it. You can hear him chuckle as he watches you try to figure out just what he meant by that. And as much as he would like to admire the way your face looks as you think, he knows this is a serious topic. He takes your hand, touch as gentle as the wind itself before pulling you just a little closer to him.

What? Can't a guy have a nice cuddle whilst talking about his relationship?

It's easy for him to disarm you, to have you relax because he really doesn't want you to feel like you're walking on eggshells around him. He looks calm as ever as you explain but you know better, from the way his touches linger on you and how his eyelights never stray from you. When it's his turn to speak, Sans isn't really much for words, but he makes it known that he's always rooting for you. Once he's in love, he's all in, and he will always show that, one way or another.

Papyrus: Not offended in the least bit. If anything, he would have a deep fascination with your job and how you work. He's into it, the flair, the dramatics, the legs! He thinks it's Very Cool™. Papyrus isn't one to really judge people by their personality, especially when he's had experience of people doing the same to him. Sure, he'd be surprised but it's more so good surprise because... He wants to know more about you, after all.

He'd also be surprised when you express your fear to him, understanding that the way humans and monsters view certain things differently is very much at play here. Papyrus also doesn't care how long you've been together, if it's something you wanna do, he's ready to support you and you will never experience any judgement from him. (Your workouts are gonna be super fun btw, he had Plans™)

Blue: After you tell him, he kinda just... Goes quiet for a bit. It worries you, rightfully so as you find it hard to properly discern his expression. But he moves a step closer to you and holds your hands, first assuring you that you never have to be afraid to tell him anything. Blue would want to make it known as soon as possible that he will be by you no matter what, your safe space, your pillow to fall on.

But he also assures you that he trusts you, anything you want to do is for you to choose but he will support it so long as you're safe and happy. That's all that really matters to him in the end since, well, it's one of the reasons he fell for you anyway, the fact that it's you. (Also would probably point out the pretty outfits you have and if you'd model for him-)

Stretch: Definitely do not tell him while he's eating or drinking because he will choke. He would then panic and say he didn't choke because he was angry or anything like that, he was just... Very surprised. And he is! He just gets extremely flustered at the idea of you doing literally anything (boy is whipped I tell ya). It takes him a while to completely articulate his thoughts because he wants to tell you that's so cool but also wants to tell it's okay and that you're so awesome and-

There's a lot going through his mind, and you're sat there in dumbfounded silence as you watch the orange hue begin to cover his entire skull. But! He does eventually gather his thoughts and tells you that.. Hey, he thinks you're an amazing person and he's loved you far too long for anything like that to get in the way. He trusts you, and he hopes you trust him as much.

Red: "that's hot-" and he stops upon seeing your face and chuckles. He holds his hands up in defense before moving a little closer once you're a little more relaxed. He starts small, holding your hand before explaining what the culture is like from where he is. He's not the best with words, but Red does succeed in getting his message across, that being:

It is your life, you have the right to decide what you wanna do and what you don't wanna do. But whatever it is you choose to do, he's got your back, no matter how "out there" it is or whatever. You want it? You got it and Red will absolutely make sure that you can depend on him for supporting you. (still will tell you it's hot af tho)

Edge: You think he's judging you but really that's just his resting face. He's a little surprised by the fact that you're so... Unsure of telling him. He voices this concern, because to him, these kinds of things were rather normal in the underground. Whatever it was, as long as it was a means to survive. He takes this a little too seriously, not that it is a bad thing, but it can be rather daunting when he's staring you down as you're both seated on your couch.

And the whole thing kinda... Makes you laugh a little.

Perhaps from how nervous you are, from how overly invested Edge is, but.. it's.. Touching. He's rightfully confused, and huffs when he finds out why, feeling a little shy.(but you would never catch him admitting that lmao). The dramatics only last for a while before you gather your thoughts and explain and Edge is.. Very gentle about it. It's one of those moments that make you understand just why you fell for him, how he makes sure that you understand that he would never, ever judge you for that. He respects you, and he will respect the choices you make as long as you're okay.

[thecameronchronicles]

Nothing But Trouble

TW: Threesome. Smut. Language. Degrading language. Praise kink. Dom!Rafe. Dom!Topper. Cheating. Slight dubcon.

*SERIOUSLY A FILTHY LITTLE SMUT

SUMMARY: Topper and Rafe make you theirs after being unable to fight it for another minute. 

WORD COUNT: 2800

REQUESTED

🤍Dark!Topper and Dark!Rafe blackmailing JJ’s kook!reader girlfriend???

Nothing But Trouble

As easy going as your boyfriend JJ could be, he had one simple rule. 

Stay away from all Kooks.

His reasons ranged from the clear envy his birthright deprived into the worry he had for any of your remaining innocence to be tainted. And yet, all you ever saw were the smiles from those harboring trust funds behind those grimaces. Parties and events you were excluded from as you were not full Kook or full Pogue. Stories you'd hear from Sarah and Kiara about those infamous parties had piqued your curiosity more than reminded you of your boyfriend's warning. 

And you should have listened…

"Not sure you can handle this stuff…" Topper teased as he stole the hard liquor you'd set at the bottom of your cup. But in truth, you wanted to find the quickest way to forget about JJ's cruel words. Usual kindness and protection had been altered into insecure and cruel words of how you were practically broadcasting yourself. Even as Kiara and Pope tried to remind him of how his job was to remind you of his compassion, he ended up storming off and leaving you the talk of the party. Which was why you'd crafted this makeshift cocktail in hopes of salvaging the night. Ignorant to the plans they had for you. 

"Must have quite a tolerance to put up with those pogues all the time…" Rafe explained at your back, your body in tremors at the idea of his close proximity as his reputation set you to chill. Where Topper was known as possessive and even articulate, he was reserved enough to be contained. But Rafe was unhinged. In every way you heard about JJ. And yet, JJ was hurtful. He was selfish. At least he had been tonight. And since he left you behind, even after promising never to do so, you entertained the conversation with the two boys with such dangerous reputations. After all, what harm could a conversation do?

Somehow beyond your emotions and the need for a distraction, they convinced you to play Beer pong. An innocent enough game that acted as a test to your allowance. It began with Topper leaning over you and whispering jokes about your opponents. But ended with Rafe's hand draped over you as you were led to the pool house, having pulled you here under the guise of needing further libations. 

"I don't get it…" He explained while leaning over the mini fridge and removing the small liquor bottles that would be found at any chosen mini bar. 

"You're one of us…and yet you're…wasting your time with a pogue?" Your attention came to the locking mechanism sounding out behind your back. You realized quite quickly of your predicament. With only a light buzz, you were well beyond coherent enough to understand. With a raging pulse against your chest, palms wet with perspiration, and eyes shifting for a secondary exit, you were at their mercy. 

"I-I want to g-go back…" But as you attempted, the hope of using a sugared cadence to remind them of this being a mistake, you found Topper to lead you to the couch. 

"We just want to talk…Make sure they're treating you right…" Although his words and tone seemed genuine enough, there was something dark in his eyes. The same in Rafe's as he handed his friend a drink before taking down his own. 

"Because after tonight, we saw how he doesn't deserve you…" Topper's hand came to your knee. A few instances throughout the game of Beer Pong had made this almost normal, almost caring.

 Almost. 

But as your stomach twisted to know this was anything but pure and sweet, you shifted away. 

"Couples fight…." You validated, shrugging even if the pain remained. 

"But you deserve to be cared for." Rafe took the space on the couch beside you, his hand higher on your thigh as his lips at your neck. Your body electrified by the taboo presence that you could only give in to it. If you attempted to fight, Topper had worked your focus to him. His fingers pulling your jaw to face him. 

"Let us take care of you…Remind you that you're a Kook. You deserve to be fucked like one…" To this, Rafe's fingers were already beneath your skirt. 

"She's too tense…" Rafe groaned, his second hand brushing your breast. Your nipple hardening enough to pebble beneath your suit. 

"Let us make you feel good, baby…like you deserve…" But as you allowed it for a moment, Topper's hands gluttonous at your hips and rival breast that Rafe had taken interest in, you recalled how this was wrong. It was bad. It was-

"Oh!" You gasped, Rafe's finger at your clothed clit. 

"Bet he takes advantage of you, doesn't he?" Rafe almost seemed to growl into your neck. Half lustful and half annoyed at the sole thought of JJ. 

"No, he…he's good to me-"

"If he was good to you, he never would have left you alone…" Topper reminded. 

"Never know someone's intentions…" He smirked, your skin slight by feeling it form closer to your ear. 

"Don't worry, we'll take good care of you…" Rafe grained, pulling you over his lap in a straddle as Topper was behind you. As you attempted to fight them, their hands convinced your worry away. 

"Please…"

"This isn't the part where you beg…not yet." Rafe explained as Topper pulled the cover of your suit loose until only the fabric of your bikini remained. He teased the straps and clasp at your back that Sarah helped close earlier that night when you left The Chateau as the thought returned you to your convictions. 

"Stop worrying about those pogues. They don't deserve you…If you're too tense, you won't be able to enjoy this…and we want you to…" Topper reminded, leading two careful fingers to your chin to pull you back to look at him. One of those miniature bottles set at your lips. 

"Swallow…" He asked sweetly, a grin breaking his content expression.

 "Practice for later…" Your mouth dried as you choked on the whiskey, the burn making you breathless along with those words. Anything you'd ever known about sex had come from JJ. The thrill of your relationship with him having been enough to grant him the privilege of all of your firsts. And yet, this paled in contrast to his touch. All because it was two of the most prohibited of men to show such interest in you.

 Interest they'd never shown until tonight. 

"I can't…" You choked out as Topper and Rafe paused to look at each other. 

"Stand up then…" Rafe explained, standing up and forcing you more than allowing you to take the stance on your own. Once pulling away, you were suddenly left more vulnerable. Your hands moved quickly over your torso to cover what you were certain should have been left for JJ. 

"Use the shower in the back…then we'll take you home. He probably doesn't want you coming back smelling like us…" Whether it was the care he seemed to offer or the chance to be away from them to clear your mind from the mess their joint presence and focus made of you, you agreed. 

"I'll run it…" Rafe disappeared for a moment as you were left with Topper. It was only a moment, but it was all it took to notice the way he'd looked at you. 

"The pogues hate us because we can afford all of those little things they can't…" He explained, finishing the contents of his drink and leaving the drink on a table's edge before moving to a picture on the wall. 

"Cameras are among them." You narrowed your eyes, completely confused to what he meant. It was only once he'd revealed the portrait of a rather beautiful landscape was a ruse to divert attention from the surveillance system beneath. 

"Wonder what JJ would think of you doing this…" He rewound the tape for you to witness how you had allowed yourself to be touched. 

"Of course, we can't have JJ seeing you this way now can we? You don't deserve that…" Rafe now returned, the sound of the shower echoing from his back. The door left ajar with the breath of steam following behind him. 

"You're such a good girlfriend to him. I bet you even get him off before he takes care of you, yeah?" You blushed, details of such things meant for only your boyfriend. And yet spoken by them, sounded decadently sinister. Like chocolate you knew would make you sick. 

And yet you wanted a taste. 

Just one…

"Bet he doesn't know what he has…" Rafe began as you looked to the monitor, both boys watching just how you watched yourself. The way you observed yourself had them looking to each other with wide grins of approval. 

"We could always show him…what he's missing…" Your eyes shot to Topper. 

"Let him see how he should be touching you…How he should make you feel…" 

"Please…it was a kiss…I didn't even…no…" You took a step back, feeling Rafe's hard chest stopping you. His fingers wrapped around your upper arms keeping you in place effortlessly. The lift of a scoff felt at your back made you shudder. He found humor in you discomfort. And it was only the start…

"Or…we could make you feel good…Give you something to consider…" 

"She's already shaking…" Rafe explained to Topper as he observed you, taking in every detail of hoe your body was affected. Even more so as he moved closer. 

"You're gonna be ruined, I'd save your energy…We have a long night planned for you-" Rafe's hand rode to your neck, keeping you in place. 

"But you're already making a mess for us, aren't you? The kind of mess it takes more than one person to clean up…To appreciate…"

"Maybe she isn't that wet…" Rafe shrugged, his second hand testing your lips, down to your nipples, before motioning to the shower. 

"Easy fix…" Before you could object, you were pulled over Rafe's shoulder and taken into the bathroom. The cold counter beneath your knees did nothing to Topper's touch as Rafe stood at the edge of the shower. 

"It's hot enough…".

"Not yet…" Topper teased. 

"Come on…" Rafe held his hand out, the signet ring catching your eye as you recalled the chill it left on your torso through the drawing made since you were alone. 

"I want to uh…" 

"You wouldn't want JJ to see that…say such mean little things you don't deserve, right? You deserve to be taken care of…to feel good…and the best part is…" Topper moved closer, tracing your lips with his own. 

"He doesn't even have to know."

"Unless you leave…Then we'd have to tell him…" Rafe was now shirtless, trunks remaining on a the water trailed down his back and gathered at his feet. 

"To defend you…tell them all those little noises you made-" Topper began. 

"How your neck tastes…how it feels in my hand…and that's before I'm even inside of you-'

"Just let us…Nobody has to know…" Topper spoke again as he pulled your hand between your legs. 

"Man, if she starts, I'm gonna have to go first…" Rafe warned, nursing the bulge forming beneath his seam. 

"You have any idea how you torture us? Just give us a little…for not showing your boyfriend…" 

"Slowly-" Rafe interjected. 

"She's probably used to coming quickly with him…that won't be the case tonight…" He smiled through his words as your fingers moved into the bottom half of your suit. As he made this direction, your eyes shot to Rafe. His body already heaving, only pulling away when noticing the tie of your suit made loose. 

"Fuck…she's so wet…Making more of a mess than I thought…let me help." Topper was on his knees, your legs pulled over his shoulders as he was savoring you before you could object. 

"Look at me." Rafe ordered. 

"You must be sweet…I can't wait to have a taste…" He licked between his lips. 

"You better not come though, sweetheart…This was MY idea…I get to feel you come first…" But the way he spoke contradicted Topper's motions. Although slow, thorough enough to feel that familiar pull of your lower stomach. 

"Ah…" You winced to the sudden suction made between his teeth. This sound motivated him to accelerate. 

"Slow down, she's gonna come-" Rafe spat. 

"She's so fucking sweet." Topper groaned between his motions as your tension directed to your thighs as you rode in to him. A palm flat to the counter and the other running through his hair. 

"Jesus, you look even better like this…" Rafe explained as you rested into the mirror behind you. 

"Get in here. Let's clean you off…" Rafe groaned as Topper pulled back, hesitant, but dripping down his smirk. 

"My turn." Rafe spoke over your shoulder as you were guided into the shower. 

"No touching. That's my job now…" His foot kicked your ankles apart. One hand through your hair and the other moving from your hip and to your core. 

"I don't want you holding back. Let Top know what he's looking forward to." He pulled your hair tighter until the back of your head rested on his shoulder. 

"Don't insult me." You groaned to the swipe made between your lower lips. The instant his ringed finger brushed your clit, you shivered. 

"You're already so sensitive…Won't take too long now will it?"

"Next time, I get to start-AND finish…" 

"Next time?" You gasped as he sunk a finger into you. Teasing and experimenting to your response to him. Every raised breath acting as the plea to continue. 

"Turn around." But with trembling thighs and guilt, you hesitated. This hesitation making him more aggressive. Your body forced against the wall formerly before you. 

"But you need to relax. Otherwise you're only gonna be in pain…" He pushed his body completely against you. Enough to feel his breath as it raised his chest and the erection hard against your stomach as he towered over you. 

"And I don't mind…" He directed you towards Topper, his cock now in his hand as he was in the midst of a half stroke before smirking at you. 

"But he likes them to scream in pleasure…" You were forced to your knees. 

"But I want you to cry for me first. Need to earn it a bit. Then we'll take care of you…But he got to have a taste…now it's your turn." His eyes blew wide with lust. 

"Please me, sweetheart. Just a bit…" His cock was exposed to you, trunks forgotten at his ankles. 

"Don't look at him!" Rafe charged as you looked to Topper in hope. Of more. Of less. For freedom. For release. For salvation you thrived being so close to, not truly wanting it.

"This is my turn! Make it worth my while and I might let you come…" He taunted, his thumb teasing your bottom lip. 

"I'm sorry…" His tone seemed sympathetic. For a moment, he seemed empathetic. 

"You're gonna be in a lot of pain after you take me. A shame you won't be able to scream for me…but you'll make it up to me next time…" He thrust himself into your throat. 

"Breathe through your nose." He instructed. 

"Open your throat." Topper grunted, his strained tone explaining his close release. 

"Yeah…yeah, just like that baby ..shit…" Rafe's palms hit hard to the shower wall, "More-"

"Easy, man-" Topper warned. 

"Touch her-" Rafe growled. "I wanna hear her." Topper lowered to you, fingers at your sex. 

The abundance of his fingers contrasting JJ's usual kindness forgotten to his cruelty. Two fingers at once, pumping quickly as you clenched around him. 

"More!" He belted, your body used as a midpoint between pleasure and pain. The stretch Rafe made of your throat and that of Topper's fingers pulled you to an edge. An edge never ventured to prior to now. One deep enough to set your guilt but frightening enough to pull something else. A fear. A fear of their reluctance. Of them denying you. 

"There we go!" Topper smiled. 

"Shit!" Rafe pulled you off of him. 

"She's gonna come. She's fucking coming-" Rafe explained, scoffing in that patronizing tone you now knew well. Your body arched as he watched you, Topper groaning and smiling as he favored you coming undone because of him. But it was short lived as you came quickly. And hard. 

"Good. Now we can really have fun…"

TAGLIST: @hopebaker @drewspisces @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4tangerine @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @onmykneesforrafe @jjmaybanksangel @phildunphyisadilf @mashdan0916 @belcalis9503 @infatuatedharleys

MASTERLIST

RAFE CAMERON MASTERLIST

2ND RAFE CAMERON MASTERLIST

TOPPER THORNTON MASTERLIST

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[rebouks]

Previous // Next

Juniper: Daddy… Noah: Juni? Juniper: Why doesn’t Robin like me? Noah: Who said he doesn’t? Juniper: He’s a’sposed to talk to me! Noah: He’s just.. shy. Juniper: My friend Maisy said he’s weird. Noah: Well, maybe you should tell Maisy to be nice. Juniper: [gasps] Daddy-.. I did do that, I tolds her off! … Alma: So.. how’re you finding life at school? Are you having fun? [Robin frowns deeply, he most certainly is not] Alma: It was a long time ago now, but I didn’t like it either. [Robin raised a brow; grown-ups went to school?] Alma: What don’t you like about it? [Robin sucks his thumb thoughtfully, if he were more articulate, he’d say it was painfully overwhelming; he wasn’t] [Alma scoops Robin into her arms and waits for a reply, gazing at him intently, but kindly] Robin: [whispers] It’s too loud… Alma: I bet it is. [Holding Robin close, Alma smiled ruefully] Alma: Life’s not gonna be easy for you, kiddo. [Robin wore a look of confusion, far too young to know what Auntie Alma was banging on about] Alma: Let me guess, you prefer the peace and quiet of being alone? [Robin nods] Alma: But it’s not that you don’t like people, it’s just easier being by yourself-.. because it’s calmer, right? [Robin nods more fervently this time, that sounds about right; finally, someone understood!] Alma: You’ll understand one day, and when you do, you come and talk to Aunt Alma.. okay? Robin: Okay… [Alma gave Robin a quick squeeze before setting him down. Though unlikely, she hoped that he’d remember their conversation as the years went on, but she didn’t want to push him. He’d come to her when he was ready]

[teejaystumbles]

Against all odds (Part 5)

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

(this continues directly after Part 4, Hob reads the rest of Dream's entry)

Negligence and luck were my saviours in the end. I managed to escape and take my revenge. I have recovered my tools of office and my power. I am free. And yet I feel like part of me is still trapped inside that basement, as unconnected to the world around me as I was before, but in a different way. Before I was captured I felt, if not above then distinctly separate from humanity; I resented that my existence depends on them, on you. I felt detached, outside of what should be intimately familiar to me. Now I am able to recognise that, but to overcome my reluctance to embrace humanity more is still a struggle. I know that not all of you are like Roderick Burgess but the fear lingers, despite logic telling me there is nothing to fear. I know my function is to serve them and my imprisonment caused great harm to many. I see now why I cannot go on like I used to. I hope that you might help me with getting to know humanity again, as you have so many times before. I confess that in my mind you had stopped being simply a human and therefore outside of how I judged humanity. You might have worried I might look down on you, but in fact I have long since seen you as someone apart from the humans I tend to. For that I am sorry, because you are just as deserving and in need of my attention as everyone else. Your perspective was supposed to help me understand humanity better, to grow closer to humans and I failed to learn my lesson. I only grew closer to you, while completely ignoring that you are human and failing to extend my feelings for you onto the rest of humanity. I was supposed to listen to you and learn what it is like to live a human life, but I did not internalise the lesson. I hope that with time I will become able to value human lives in their entirety and show others more respect and compassion. This will not come easy to me after nearly a century spent in a cage at the hand of a human, but I will try.

I apologise, Hob. All this will not make much sense to you because I have still not told you who I am, and I still wish to do so in person. Suffice it to say that you have already glimpsed the truth and noticed changes that are related to my person and what happened to me. Feel free to guess, my friend, but be assured that I will give you my name soon. Maybe then you will understand the scope of all I’ve relayed to you.

I have laid myself bare for you, my friend. I do not think I could have articulated half of this had we talked face to face. Admitting to my faults and insecurities does not come easy to me. My ordeal has left me with some conditions that I did not know I was capable of suffering. As you already know I am struggling with being in enclosed spaces, and I feel especially reluctant if there is a lot of glass. I also do not enjoy being close to humans I do not know, although, as you well know, I know everyone. This is limited to certain aspects of their person, though, and does not include mind reading. Therefore I find myself apprehensive of their goals and possible actions, which is why I prefer to keep my distance. I know that these fears are not logical and that I should be able to “shake them off” - yet I cannot, and I do not know for how long they will impede me. My greatest fear I have so far not articulated, though. If I tell you my name, will you still look at me the same way?

The words stop without a farewell and Hob drops the journal with a choked sob, his eyes wide and watering. He wants to howl. He refrains for the sake of his neighbours and simply slumps to the floor beside the fallen book. It’s still open and Hob rereads the last line through more and more tears welling up. He makes a sound like a wounded animal and gets back up on his knees, searches for a pen on top of the desk and then immediately launches into writing a reply right there on the floor.

My friend, my dearest friend!

Why would you think that I would ever look at you differently? You are more dear to me than anyone else and knowing your name and who or what you truly are will not change that! I believe I have been privileged to get to know you over the few times we met, and even more through these letters we have been writing. Even if your name was Oberon, or Hades, or hell, even Lucifer! I would not look at you differently, except to ask you why you lied when I first guessed that you might be a demon. I don’t think you would ever lie to me, though. Whatever you are, I have thought about it and puzzled over it since I first met you, so you know that the only way I would look at you if I finally got to know your name would be with awe and curiosity - the same way I have always looked at you. You are endlessly fascinating to me and I cannot believe you would think that I might change my opinion on you because of something as unimportant as a name. I already know you, dear stranger, with or without it. So I say, don’t tell me unless you truly want to. Don’t think you owe me a name or explanation. I do not need it. All I need is you, and our conversations. 

Hob pauses his writing and lets the pen drop from his fingers, drawing a shaky breath and rubbing his eyes. He wishes he had planned this better, thought about what he would write before starting, but in the end it’s maybe best to give his stranger this excessive honesty. Hob has a bad feeling about his friend’s entry simply stopping and what he probably needs is immediate assurance. So this is what Hob will lead with, and address the other issues afterwards. He means it, too. He doesn’t care who or what his friend truly is. He’s Hob’s friend, the oldest and best he’s got, and he’s determined to keep him, no matter what kind of being he turns out to be. “My sister, Death.” That's what his stranger wrote, Hob remembers and flips the pages of the journal back, rereading the first part of his friend’s entry. Roderick Burgess tried to summon Death, and got her brother instead. Death’s brother. His friend is Death's brother. What could that possibly make him? One of the four horsemen? Pestilence, or Famine? War seems unlikely, somehow. Actually none of these fit his stranger, Hob thinks and shakes his head slightly. He gets up and sits at the desk, the journal open in front of him. He doesn’t quite know what to write next and so he drops the pen and goes to wash his face and make himself tea, trying to collect his thoughts in the meantime.

When he returns to the bedroom he finds he cannot write more without mulling it all over first. He feels empty, the horror of his friend’s ordeal growing more and more clearer in his mind. He doesn’t know what to write besides “Please let me hold you. Please let me make you smile. Please let me love you.” None of that seems even nearly appropriate to tell to a traumatised person that is probably not even remotely attracted to him. What his stranger needs now is a friend (well, actually a therapist, but Hob will do his best), not a clingy lover like Hob.

He goes to bed and leaves the journal open on the desk. Maybe when he wakes up he’ll be able to find the right words. He falls asleep to thoughts of prisons made of glass, his friend stuck inside, looking mournfully at him.

Hob dreams of the White Horse. He wears his modern clothes but the Inn looks like it did in 1589 and with a smile he sits down at the lavishly decorated table, ready to host his friend. When Hob looks up his stranger is standing a few feet away on the other side of the table. He looks like Hob saw him in his bedroom, although his hair is a bit wilder and his black coat looks longer and is speckled with stars. Hob smiles at him and gestures at the spread.

“My friend! Sit, eat! You must be awfully hungry!”

His stranger frowns and takes a cautious step closer, looking at the table laden with food, then back at Hob.

“You offer me sustenance, my friend?”

I offer you everything.

“Of course,” Hob exclaims, “this, and more! If there is anything I can give you, I will! Please, only ask and I will try and find a way to get it for you.”

Hob wants to stop talking but he can’t seem to stop the words. “Be it food or drink, or hugs, or kisses - everything I have, my heart, if you but ask, is yours.” He blushes, knows that his eyes have grown wide in shock and still he cannot stop looking at his friend, staring at him in open adoration. Brother of Death, brother of Death, his mind keeps shrieking at him and Hob feels his smile crumble in dread as his stranger does not visibly react to Hob’s words at all. Too forward, too honest! Fool, you dare, he chides himself and bites his tongue when he feels more words on the cusp of breaking free.

His stranger does not acknowledge Hob’s words, he slowly picks up a strawberry and takes a delicate bite. His dark eyes do not leave Hob’s for even a second, though. Hob feels heat pool in his belly and bites his tongue harder until he feels blood well up inside his mouth. He opens it and a drop spills out, staining his lips as red as the strawberry is staining his friend’s. His stranger’s eyes are black from side to side now, gleaming in the low light like pearls. Hob blinks and suddenly the man is right in front of him, reaching out until his fingertip gently brushes the drop of blood from Hob’s lips, the next moment he is standing at the other end of the table again, a half-eaten strawberry staining his fingers. Hob feels lightheaded and grips the table to remain upright. What is going on? This is the strangest dream he’s ever had. The voice of his friend is suddenly coming from everywhere, reverberating inside Hob’s head.

“I accept your offering, dear Hob. I promise to cherish it…and treat it with utmost care.”

Hob wants to ask what his friend means but he feels very tired all of a sudden, despite knowing that he’s already asleep. He feels himself sink back into what feels like soft cushions and the room darkens around them until all he can see are two twin stars twinkling in his friend’s eyes. Then there is nothing but darkness, and sleep.

Part 6

[hazbinfallinginaspiral]

Extremely self indulgent but, may I ask for something with Vox X a Reader who's having a really bad chronic pain day, to the point where they need Vox's help doing normally easy daily tasks that day, and Vox reassuring them that he loves them and they're not a burden to him?

Basically some feel better Vox hurt/comfort fluff for the soul lol Please and thanks! 🙏

Your wish is my command, anon 🧑‍🍳 I am so sorry if I got anything wrong this is my first time ever writing something like this, I hope it’s good

I wake up to the familiar ache coursing through my body, every joint screaming in protest as I attempt to move.

As the sun peeked through the curtains, I felt the familiar pang of dread wash over me. Today was one of those days – a day where my body seemed to conspire against me, engulfing me in a whirlwind of agony from the moment I opened my eyes.

I try to push through, summoning every ounce of willpower to get out of bed, but my body feels like it's made of lead. I glance at the clock, realizing I've barely slept again, the pain a cruel companion even in my dreams.

I tried to move, but every muscle screamed in protest. Even the simplest tasks felt like climbing a mountain. I reached for the painkillers on my bedside table, but my hand trembled, unable to grasp them.

"Vox," I called out weakly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Within moments, his concerned face appeared in the doorway. His eyes softened as they met mine, understanding the silent plea for help.

"What do you need, love?" he asked, his voice a soothing balm to my frazzled nerves.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I struggled to articulate the overwhelming pain coursing through my body. "I... I can't do it today. I need your help."

Without a word, Vox crossed the room and knelt beside me, gently cradling my hand in his. His touch sent waves of comfort coursing through me, easing the sharp edges of the pain, if only for a moment.

Vox rummaged through my closet, trying to find something comfortable and easy to put on. I sat on the edge of the bed, feeling defeated by the simple act of getting dressed. Every movement sent jolts of agony coursing through my body, as if each limb was weighed down by invisible chains. I was frustrated, to say the least.

Vox knelt beside me, his warm hands enveloping mine, his touch grounding me in the present moment. "Let's take this one step at a time," he murmured softly, bringing my attention to the task at hand.

I nodded weakly, struggling to hold back tears of frustration. This was all so stupid. I hated it.

With infinite patience, Vox began the arduous task of helping me dress. Each movement was slow and deliberate, his touch feather-light as he eased clothing over my aching limbs. He didn't rush or grow impatient, instead offering words of encouragement with every tug and pull.

"You're doing great, love," he whispered, trying to calm me down. "I'm right here with you, every step of the way."

Despite the relentless ache tearing through my body, Vox’s words did help. It didn’t change the fact that my body felt like it was being torn to shreds with every move I made, but it was comforting. He was trying, and he was helping me, and that was good enough.

As the final piece of clothing slipped into place, I felt a sense of relief wash over me. It was a small victory in the face of overwhelming pain, but with Vox by my side, it was a little more bearable.

Sitting at the kitchen table, the aroma of my favorite meal wafting through the air, I couldn't help but feel upset. Again. Everything was a reminder of how much pain I was in, I couldn’t help but feel small. The simple act of eating had become a Herculean task, my hands trembling as I struggled to lift the fork to my mouth.

Vox stood by the stove, a look of quiet determination on his face as he plated the meal with care. His eyes met mine, filled with understanding and unwavering support. "I made your favorite," he said gently.

As he approached the table with a steaming plate in hand, I couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude wash over me. Despite the overwhelming pain tearing through my body, Vox had gone out of his way to make this moment special.

With infinite patience, he settled into the seat beside me, his presence a comforting anchor in the storm. "Let me help you," he said softly, reaching for the fork with steady hands.

As he guided the utensil to my mouth, I felt a mixture of frustration and gratitude swirling within me. How had something so simple become so daunting? It was stupid, really, having to be fed like a child. He wasn’t looking at me like one, though. He was still treating me like any other person. I supposed that was good enough.

With each bite, he offered words of encouragement, his voice a soothing melody in the chaos of my mind. "You're doing great, love," he whispered, noting my begrudging compliance.

As the meal drew to a close, I couldn’t help but give him a half hearted smile. I felt bitter, still. Upset my body had betrayed me like this. I had to deal with pain everyday, and it had the audacity to crank it up to ten? Ridiculous. As upset as I was with my body, I couldn’t help but feel grateful for Vox’s help. He was truly amazing, staying by my side with endless support and patience. I couldn’t help but feel bad that he had to put up with me.

The rest of the day passed similarly, until I was sitting, hardly keeping myself together. As tears welled up in my eyes and fell down my face, I couldn't hold back the overwhelming flood of emotions any longer. The frustration, the pain, the sheer exhaustion – it all bubbled to the surface, threatening to consume me whole.

Of course, Vox was there in an instant to help. His arms enveloped me in a warm embrace, his touch a soothing balm to my frayed nerves. "It's okay to let it out," he murmured softly, unsure of what to do, really. We’d done this a million times, but it didn’t make it any better.

As I poured out my heart, voicing the frustrations that had been weighing me down, Vox listened with unwavering patience and understanding. He didn't offer empty platitudes or try to fix what couldn't be fixed. Instead, he simply held me close. Oddly enough, it was more comforting than I’d have thought.

"You're so strong, darling," he said softly, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "I'm here for you, okay? Whatever you need, I’m here."

With Vox by my side, I felt a sense of relief wash over me, as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Despite the relentless onslaught of pain and frustration, I knew that I was not alone. He had been there with me all day long, helping me through it all.

[quietlyimplode]

Dearest Anon; thank you for your kind gift of no ads. I can’t quiet articulate on what it means but know I’ll try and find a way to pass it forward.

Whilst you mentioned it wasn’t needed, I wanted some way to say thank you. So, what follows is some Clint/Nat hurt/comfort and them taking care of each other. I hope the rest of the week greets you kindly. And if it doesn’t know that I’m rooting for you. 💜💜

secret languages.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: blood/dissociation

.

“Tash,” Clint whispers, “come on, we’re almost there, one foot in front of the other.”

Blood drops from her fingers and she focuses on his words.

“Yeah. That’s it,” his words dutifully guiding her forward.

“Come on, two more steps.”

She takes the final step to his loft and looks balefully at him.

He knows words won’t come easily and even following instructions need to be broken down into manageable components.

His body feels so heavy.

Clint feels like if it wasn’t for her, he would be just crashing on the couch with the fallout from the mission.

The bruise on his left cheek darkening and gravel rash on his thigh smarting.

He leads the way, unlocking the door and guiding her inside.

She stops once through the threshold, unsure of her movements.

Grabbing a towel from the pile of washing he’d never put away, he lays it strategically to cover the sofa.

“Sit,” he commands softly.

She doesn’t even watch as he moves around; her vision tunnelled as she drops blood onto the wooden floorboards.

Taking her hand, he guides her to sit on the couch.

He doesn’t think it’s a concussion, likely not anything permanent.

Clint hopes not anyway.

Squatting next to her, he unzips her top.

There’s a moment where he thinks she might resist, instead she closes her eyes, and blocks him out.

“Sorry, I should have said,” he tells her, and helps her take her suit off her shoulders down to her waist.

She shivers.

Clint stands and puts the heater on, grabbing a blanket to place over her legs, another towel and the suture kit.

“Nat, I need you to tell me when it hurts okay?”

Even as he says it, he knows she won’t.

She looks at him, but he thinks it’s only because he’s spoken.

Only in a bra, she shivers again, and he apologises, placing the blanket over her lap.

The cut runs from her shoulder to her elbow, weeps; the bruising on her face is accompanied by swelling, just like his.

Clint wants a shower, and wonders if she wants one too. He feels sticky and can smell his sweat when he moves.

“I smell,” he comments on a whim, hoping for something, anything other than unfocused eyes.

He hates it; but he understands it.

“Okay,” he says under his breath, “we’ve got this, just some stitches and maybe some painkillers, then a shower and bed, okay?”

He says it like a checklist himself, like it’s that easy, but he knows that it’s not.

The small kit for stitching is ready next to the sofa, and he reaches for it.

Poor fine motor skills and a tremor in his hands makes it crash to the floor and Natasha flinches.

“Sorry, sorry,” he mumbles, picking it up.

He focuses on her, trying to gauge what and how’s she’s feeling but apart from being nonverbal, her body language gives nothing away.

“Okay, Nat, I’m going to wipe the blood okay? The towel is scratchy.”

Clint wipes it down, the wound not too deep but almost instantly refilling with blood.

“Now, this will sting, it’s the alcohol wipe,” he says as he dabs a small bit then looks up.

No reaction.

Eyes watch the wall.

He tries to give as much information as he can, and likewise it almost helps to ground him.

The piercing of her skin with the hooked needle makes his face contort; and even though it’s met by no reaction, he still hates that it’s him that’s hurting her.

“Okay, it’s started,” he narrates.

“Hook… tie… snip,” he tells himself, doing the action and then looking up to check again.

She’s watching now.

It must hurt.

Or at the very least pierced her subconscious.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, and then looks back down the the wound.

“Maybe four to go,” he tells her.

“Nat? Does it hurt?”

Clint glances at her back, his gravel rash from being dragged by a motor bike seems nothing to the staircase fall down a fire escape.

He’d watched in horror, but she’d just gotten up and ran, motioning for him to do the same.

Gas in the building, their escape had been quick.

Hers had been frantic.

He’s not even sure if it touched her, but the fear was real.

“Nat, does it hurt?” he asks again, three stitches to go.

On the last stitch, he ties it off, wipes it down again, then stands to get an ice pack.

As he stands, she vomits everywhere, just missing Clint.

“Fuck,” he swears.

He grabs her and pushes her to the bathroom, the smell overpowering, as he wonders just what was left in her from their meal the night before.

He sits her on the toilet, handing her a bin.

“Do you still feel sick?” he asks.

“Nauseous?”

She stares into the bottom of the bucket.

There’s an increase, only slightly, in her breathing.

Clint catches it, hoping it doesn’t escalate to a panic attack. He wonders if it means she’s going to vomit again.

Was it the gas? Or holding it together whilst he stitched her arm?

He turns the heater on.

“H..” the word doesn’t pass her lips, but the attempt does.

He nods at her her attempt.

“Yeah?”

Eyes searching, she finds his and breathes forcefully through her nose.

“Hurts,” she huffs, and looks down at the bucket, vomiting again.

“Okay.”

He leaves the room briefly, and finds the painkillers, the little packet holding big promises.

Taking it to her, he punches one out into her hand, and then gives a glass of water.

She shakes her head.

Clint knows.

He always knows.

“Watch me.”

He pushes out another tiny tablet into his own hand and downs it with the water.

He hands it back, and motions for her to do the same.

In a state like this, he gets it, and his effort is rewarded by her copying his actions.

He just hopes she doesn’t throw it up.

Two tasks down, it’s just the shower and bed.

They can do this.

He can do this.

Removing the puke bucket from her hands, he tells her to stand.

She does without thinking.

He wants to get ice on her face to decrease the bruises, he wants to be in pyjamas, he wants this day to have never have happened.

“Does anywhere else hurt?”

The question is redundant, as she doesn’t answer or even acknowledge it.

“Okay, shower,” he murmurs.

“Socks off, pants off.”

He almost doesn’t expect anything to happen, but she moves at his request.

Clint nods.

He turns the shower on, the hottest it can go, hoping it can help heat the room.

Undressing alongside her, he winces at his his own wounds, the drop of gravel onto the floor makes him think he should probably clean it, just like he did for Natasha.

He ignores it.

The shower will help.

Steam fills the bathroom.

He doesn’t think.

She grabs him, breath caught in his throat.

“No,” she squeaks, “not…”

Gas

Her words get lost again, as scared childlike eyes stare at him to help.

Clint can’t move quickly, his muscles sore and tired. He gets to the fan, and switches it on, sucking up the steam and making the room loud.

“It’s okay,” he assures, “it’s nothing, it’s the shower.”

She sits back down, breathing heavily.

“It’s okay,” he says again, “it’s the shower.”

He gives her the glass of water, thinking maybe it will help to ground her, but this time, she can’t take it, hands gripping her thighs.

“Come on,” he sighs, “quick shower.”

She shakes her head.

“I can’t.”

Torn between pushing her and honouring her request, Clint sighs and gets in the shower, watching her through the glass.

He sees her, holding herself together, and he hurries himself as much as he can.

Feeling like he can’t move quickly enough, he hurts himself in his roughness.

He swears.

It’s enough for Natasha to stand and come to the glass to check on him.

Attempting a smile, he tries to reassure her.

He opens the door, to say something and she follows him in.

She looks at him.

Really looks this time, and raises her hand to his bruised face.

Water hits her arm and pink water streams down the skink.

“Such dangerous lives we lead,” he says softly.

She avoids water on her head and he lowers the shower head so he can control it.

He washes her gently, then she takes it off him and does the same.

Clint is thankful she’s coming back.

He sighs heavily, feeling the pain pulse in his leg, as she gently cleans it.

“Think it’s time for bed,” he murmurs.

She nods, switching off the shower.

He moves to open the door.

Pulling him into a hug, Natasha hopes she conveys everything in it.

For taking care of her.

For getting her home.

She leaves first, passing him a towel, and then one for herself.

It’s slow, the descent to bed.

Natasha cleans her vomit.

Clint wraps his leg.

He passes her some juice and she takes it gratefully.

Finally, bed.

He crawls in after her and feels himself sink into the mattress.

“Mm’sorry,” Natasha says into the darkness.

He moves his body closer to hers, and touches his feet to hers.

“What happened, Nat?” he wonders out loud.

“What made you… go?”

There’s nothing for a while.

She sucks in a breath.

“It hasn’t been like that in a while… I thought… I was worried,” he finishes.

She’s silent, trying to find the words.

“There’s a room, in the Red Room, I think it’s what it’s named for. They use it and release red gas; it makes you hallucinate your greatest fears. Today...” she pauses.

“It smelt the same.”

His body stiffens.

The gas, whilst not red, had been visible, the smell permeating the world as they escaped.

He understands.

“I get lost,” she whispers. “But I know what’s happening, it’s like words are too hard and even telling myself what I need to do takes all the brain power and focus, but the alternative is worse, if I let go, if I just give in and don’t do anything, I lose time.”

Clint reaches for her hand.

“Trauma changes shape, but doesn’t really leave, huh?”

Natasha scoffs, a low release of air.

“Isn’t that just the story of my life.”

She rolls to the side.

“Thanks for stitching my arm, and getting me home,” she whispers,

“I got you,” he whispers back.

He shuffles closer to her.

“Wake me, okay? When the dreams… arrive?”

Neither of them are stupid enough to believe that that dreams won’t come.

Natasha rests her head on his chest.

“Yeah,” she yawns.

“I’ll try.”

.

[ctitan98official]

Alcina’s long lost child au part 2

Alright, part 2! Read the first part here! Let’s get into it!

The fireplace in the bedroom warmed your weary body. Alcina had done an excellent job wrapping your injured leg and then had a maid bring some hot tea for you to drink.

You stared at this fascinating creature. She was easily over 9 feet tall, and yet your very stare had her shifting uncomfortably in her seat. The confident woman from just before was long gone.

Alcina cleared her throat before speaking (Probably to break the unbearable silence). “Are you happy, Y/N? Do you have… any family? I always dreamed of you coming here to find me, but… I… Only wanted the best for you. I hope you know that.” She began.

You looked down at the mug in your hands. You didn’t want to blame her, but your life had been far from easy. Never adopted. Never had a real family… Aging out of the foster system sucked. “Well,” You began carefully. “Um… I’m not gonna sugar coat anything. I grew up as a bit of a loner. I never had a family.” You said, unable to meet Alcina’s gaze.

Alcina felt her heart break. Tears silently streamed down her face. This wasn’t what she wanted for you.

“To be honest, I liked to think that my birth parents just didn’t have the means to care for me. It was… Easier that way. It made the idea of them seem pretty selfless, but-” You gestured to the gilded fixtures and luxurious room. “I can see money and resources are not a problem here.” You ground out. You tried not to sound so bitter, but Alcina had 3 daughters who lived with her. She clearly had the time and love to devote to them. Why not you?

Your words cut Alcina to the core. You really must hate her.

Alcina’s silence kind of agitated you. “So… You seem to love your new children a ton. I’m happy for you all. I should leave.” You said.

You were feeling very angry and didn’t want to say something you’d really regret. You knew coming here was a bad idea from the beginning… What a waste.

You wince as you painfully rise to your feet and prepare to leave.

“NO!” Alcina all but shrieked and stood to her full height.

The amplitude of the sound hurt your ears and you flinch from Alcina’s sudden movements.

Alcina put her face in her hands and sighed in frustration at her reaction. Why was it so hard to talk to you?! She had been waiting for this moment ever since she gave you up.

“It’s not like that at all… I know I did the right thing!” Alcina says, talking more to herself than you.

You lash out.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!” You suddenly scream. “You can’t just say you had good intentions for me, send me off to live in fucking shitty situations my entire life, and then want me to immediately forgive you for it!” You vent. You feel tears stinging your eyes. You didn’t realize just how much you had repressed your anger and hurt all these years.

You cover your face with your hands, desperately trying to not cry in front of her.

Alcina can’t stand to see you so upset. She’s got to do something. She takes a deep breath to calm her nerves. “Okay, Y/N. If you hear what I have to say and it doesn’t change the way you feel, I will understand. But, if you find that you’d like to know more… I’ll tell you everything. No matter how painful.” Alcina offers gently.

You huff. Damn it. Now you NEEDED to know what she would say next. “Alright, I’m listening.” You say and sit back down in the chair.

——————————————————————————

A few moments later, Alcina is able to articulate what she needs to say to you. “You were… Most assuredly planned, and wanted, my darling.” Alcina begins.

Wait, she planned on having you?

“I hadn’t adopted your sisters yet at that time… But… They come from unsavory backgrounds as well.” She said tightly, thinking of the pain all of her children have gone through.

You feel a twinge of guilt from being so jealous of the sisters earlier.

Alcina’s face becomes pained. “I had a very… Complicated relationship with your other parent. I constantly craved her approval but I rarely got it.” She said, laughing sadly.

Your ears perk up at this. Another parent??

“What was her name?” You ask, enraptured by Alcina’s story.

“Miranda.” Alcina says. You catch the sadness and… Anger as she says her name.

“Did… Did she do something bad?” You ask in confusion.

Alcina once again nodded, but this time she could not help the growl that escaped her. Why did everything have to hurt so much? It simply wasn’t fair.

“She’s the reason you had to send me away…” You concluded.

“Yes,” Alcina said softly. “For your protection, my love.”

You clenched your jaw. You were starting to hate this ‘Miranda’.

Alcina could sense you were getting upset, so she pivoted and continued on quickly. “Well, one night, your mother proposed that we have a child together-”

You were about to go apeshit. “Did she-?!”

Alcina held up a hand, knowing where you were going. “It was consensual, Y/N.” She said.

This eased your fears, but only a bit.

“Miranda was a brilliant scientist and devised a way for her DNA to fertilize one of my eggs.” Alcina explained.

Your eyes went wide in astonishment, but you didn’t want to interrupt.

“I immediately accepted. I always wanted to feel what it was like to carry a baby within me.” She said, giving you a fond smile.

You felt your heart warm at Alcina’s words. It seems she really did want to have you after all.

“Our relationship got better while we were trying to conceive you. It seemed that she had finally begun to care for me like I did for her… And, well, I became pregnant with you very quickly.” Alcina says with a laugh and a faint blush. “Your mother was absolutely shocked. She couldn’t believe it worked so fast.” She says.

“So… What happened? I mean, how did things go wrong so quickly?” You ask.

Alcina sighed, moving onto more unpleasant memories. “Once Miranda found out I was pregnant… Things changed between us. She insisted on doing all sorts of testing on me. She was completely consumed with her experiments and by the time you were ready to be born, I knew she was going to use you for something awful.” Alcina looked sick as she told you this.

“What?” You asked in confusion.

“Your mother… Had walked this earth for a very long time, Y/N. She had a daughter a long time ago who passed away due to a dreadful illness.” Alcina tried to explain as best she could. “Miranda was under the delusion that she could somehow bring her back through science and… She began experimenting on people.” Alcina revealed.

Your jaw dropped. Good Lord, human experimentation?? She sounded like a war criminal. It made your skin crawl to know that she used Alcina like this and planned on using you as well.

“Thankfully, by the end of my pregnancy, Miranda was busy in her lab and went for days without coming to check up on you and me. I went into labor, by myself, and soon after, you were born.” Alcina couldn’t help but smile adoringly at you. “Y/N, you were the most beautiful and precious person in my life… I couldn’t let Miranda take you. I had to get you out of here.” She whispered. As she looked at you she began to sob. She wondered how different both of your lives would have been if you had been able to stay with her.

You felt your heart shatter. Alcina had been through so much. She really did give you up to protect you… You felt hatred toward your other “Parent”. She ruined both of your lives, and countless others.

You decided that this was enough sharing for the day. You were both emotionally exhausted. You climbed off your chair and timidly hobbled over to her before you hugged one of her legs.

Alcina looked to you and gasped at your affection. She softly rubbed her fingers through your hair. She needed to show you how much she loved you. It had been too long. “May I… Hold you, Y/N?” She asked through her heartbreaking cries.

You nodded quickly. This is what you wanted all along…

Alcina reached down and picked you up gently, so as not to hurt your leg, and brought you to her chest.

You sighed in contentment as she held you. This felt right. Her warmth, her smell, her voice… She really was your mom.

“Everything will be alright now that we’re together.” Alcina told you, kissing the side of your face and idly rubbing circles on your back.

Soon, the gentle thumping of Alcina’s heartbeat and the quiet reassurances she whispered in your ear put you right to sleep.

The horror of past transgressions seemingly couldn’t touch you while Alcina held you…

Masterlist

[etirabys]

It's very sweet about CS Lewis to idiotproof Paradise Lost against atheists. He didn't have to do that. He was a Christian writer in a Christian society and I assume he could have gotten away with just talking to other Christians about it and ignoring annoying people who wrongly read subversion into Milton. Instead he gives us a Christianity 101 chapter in A Preface to Paradise Lost and says, "this is the theological canon of the church, and here is how Milton hews to it again and again".

So now I think I understand Christianity. Maybe?

CS Lewis, explaining the canonical beliefs: Everything in nature is intrinsically good. Bad things happen when conscious creatures become "more interested in itself than in God", or assumes it can exist independently of God, as when Milton's Satan says that he is "self-begot".

me: Just for fun, let me enumerate the possible answers to 'who begot us?' – (1) conscious supreme being – e.g. Christian God, (2) our parents – e.g. Confucianism, (3) the self, (4) the weight of human history – humanity co-creating itself by maintaining a matrix of culture, (5) Nature – non-conscious but still revered, e.g. planet worship / I hecking love science, (6) null answer – non-conscious material processes.

Lewis: God knows in advance that some conscious entities will voluntarily make themselves bad and also knows what good use He will make of their badness. As [Milton's] angels point out, whoever tries to rebel against God produces the result opposite to his intention. At the end of the poem Adam is astonished at the power 'that all this good of evil shall produce'. This is the exact reverse of the programme Satan had envisaged in Book I, when he hoped, if God attempted any good through him, to 'pervert that end'; instead he is allowed to do all the evil he wants and finds that he has produced good. Those who will not be God's sons become His tools.

me: That's such beautiful cope! I've heard the badly-articulated versions of that Christian belief but it turns out I'm unprincipled and like it when you, Charisma Stat Lewis, say it.

me: It's also hard not to speculate that this belief is more adaptive in a world with e.g. a 50% child mortality rate.

Lewis: Also, The apple wasn't magic. THE APPLE WASN'T MAGIC. The only point of forbidding it was to instill obedience. The disobedience was so heinous precisely because obedience was so easy.

me: it was a shit test

Lewis: The Fall consisted of man's disobedience to his superior and was punished by man's loss of authority over his inferiors – chiefly over his passions and his physical organism. "Man has called for anarchy: God lets him have it." After the Fall, understanding ceased to rule and the will did not listen to understanding.

me: okay so what about the physical organism

Lewis: Man used to control his erections before the Fall

me: what

Lewis: That's right. No accidental boners. No morning wood. No dead bedroom subreddits. You can clench your fist without being angry and you can be angry without clench your fist. The will controls the fist. The sexual organs used to be like that.

me: That follows splendidly from "man was punished by the passions overruling the will" and yet I wasn't expecting that at all. Probably because I'm female? I annotated your "the will did not listen to understanding" with "we didn't have akrasia before the fall", because akrasia is a big problem for me. But being horny isn't.

me: I mean, obviously some women are really horny and causes them to act in unwise ways, and some men aren't horny. But "single men under age 25 are the most societal-problem-causing demographic" is well known, and even outside that age range, men seem to be, like, "cursed with horny" in a way that requires managing & makes them miserable on a day to day basis... so it makes sense that male interpreters would identify that with the Fall. It's conceptually congruent in a way "the Fall caused childbirth to be painful" isn't.

Lewis: Anyway, the Fall – people overcomplicated it. The apple is just an apple. It's not an allegory. The Fall consisted of Disobedience – doing what your superiors told you not to do – and resulted from Pride, which is forgetting your place. This is what the Church has always taught. Milton states it in the very first line of his poem and all his characters reiterate it from every possible point of view. Don't read false emphases into Milton! This is what he is saying: obedience to the will of God will make you happy and disobedience will make you miserable.

me: Well, obviously you know that your modern reader doesn't like this. You're pleasantly cognizant of atheist readers who are into self-governance and equality.

Lewis: The modern idea that we can choose between hierarchy and equality is not quite right. The real alternative to hierarchy is tyranny. If you will not have authority you will find yourself obeying brute force.

me: I simultaneously have a suspicious-resistant feeling and the perception that, when people in my milieu disagree with this, your view is the baseline from which we deviate minorly. Any form of functional social arrangement is going to have something that looks like authority and obedience.

Lewis: Understand this: Milton's poem belongs to a hierarchical conception of the universe where everything except God has some natural superior and everything except dead matter has some natural inferior. Superiors should rule over inferiors. When Milton protests an instance of rule (he was against the monarchy of the Stuarts) he is disagreeing that the Stuarts are superior while still thinking that hierarchy is cosmically good. The justice or injustice of any given instance of rule depends wholly on the nature of the parties, not on any social contract.

me: I have little respect for Confucianism because it strikes me as so overtly a system of thought with no internal merit or wisdom on the micro, whose only function is to make society run on the macro. (I'm sorry to say "only" there, because that's a big function.) What you describe has the same feel. This isn't a great label for it, but I'd call both Confucianism and Christian hierarchy 'biological philosophies', in that of course this is the philosophy that materially deprived apes who want both power and stability would equilibriate on: a system of subjugation and cope. The hierarchical conception itself is "understanding ceasing to rule".

Lewis: [Lewis would doubtless totally own me. But he doesn't directly address this in anything I've read by him, and I can't simulate him in enough detail to generate his response.]

[goron-king-darunia]

Eggtober Recap and Masterpost 2023

Untitled Egg Poem Egg Yolk Splattered in a chipped bowl, Limitless potential Broken like the dawn.

Scared of wasted sunrise, Scared of loving white lies, Yearning, Wanting to breathe free.

Prison within a prison, Living without living, I am spinning, toiling, burning, Breaking, sifting, praying, learning, Nothing blooming Nothing growing Tears.

Crackling insanity, A song that boils within me A rhythm Setting me in stone.

And I'll claw in Like dandelions, Vines, like yeast and mold I'll make a mark one day, you'll see.

Rooted, I'll grow my thorns, It's not my fault for being born, Sorry if My laughter is too loud.

I'll make a reverie of mechanical monotony No more apologies Just me. Insects and wriggling larvae, Eggshell like lead paint chips, Star dust doesn't choose its shape.

Pigment from wilted roses, blood spilled by mistake, I refuse to ever break.

Not again.

Eggtober is over. We did it~ The poem doesn't really speak to a current state of mind. Just a pattern of maladaptive thinking I grew up having, being the weird kid. People like the rough edges a lot more when you grow up, I've found. Makes you interesting. Or maybe it's just easier to find your people when you're unapologetically strange online. And I like that Eggtober sort of embraces that. It's not a super serious Inktober challenge. Just a bunch of weird people drawing weird eggs. And I mean that in the best way. People expect there to be a "why" a lot. "Why eggs?" And sometimes there is a why. Sometimes I draw eggs to express something or to symbolize something. But sometimes there is no why. Sometimes it's just because an egg is easy or fun or comfortable. Sometimes an egg just feels right. Sometimes it's just to make something. Doesn't have to be poetic or meaningful. Sometimes you just draw an egg, and that's all it is. And I think a lot of discomfort around art is that everyone expects there to be a why, and if you don't have a why, then your art doesn't deserve to be seen. "Why do you like gorey stuff, kinky stuff, weird stuff? If you can't explain, I'm choosing to believe you're a freak and should be disallowed from creating." And I'm lucky, I think, to not be that popular. I don't get asked these sorts of things. But I see it happen to other people. And sometimes I get it. An answer to the why pacifies. I get uneasy with horror the same as everyone and I pacify it by reading the wiki and learning the secrets and understanding the why. But I think we need to get more comfy making up our own why, or get comfy with the knowledge that sometimes there isn't a why. Sometimes the little brain goblin decides there is no why. They just like the weird little eggs. And that's okay. And I think the reason we make up for other peoples' "why" should maybe stop being "because they're a weird little freak that likes degenerate things." Because yeah, maybe they are. But it's not a bad thing. And the world is a lot more interesting when we accept that we don't always know the why. And the why isn't always as simple as that.

I dunno. I'm rambling a bit. But I'm grateful to everyone that showed up and participated and shared and liked and just... enjoyed existing where the thing happening was lots of eggs and the "why" was just "why not?"

Hoping every one of you has a nice glass of your preferred warm beverage and stays nice and toasty for the rest of the year. (Shout out to the southern hemisphere folks if there are any. May you guys have an iced beverage of your choice and stay nice and cool for the rest of the year.)

Lots of thoughts about Eggtober 2023 and no good way to articulate them, but suffice it to say that having a loose amount of structure like this is very good on my garbage ADHD brain. If anything in the collage catches your fancy, here's the posts in order from the top left to the bottom right. May the rest of 2023 be sweet. I can't wait to see everyone again next year! And don't eat too much Halloween Candy at once, even if it is those yummy gummy fried egg candies.

Eggtober 2023 Posts in Order: (Unfortunately I didn't learn about the speedpaint feature until day 6 😢)

Eggtober 1st: Fried Egg on Green Eggtober 2nd: Lemon Fried Egg (Both Versions) Eggtober 3rd: Fried Egg Cake

Eggtober 4th: Poached Eggs and Asparagus Hollandaise Eggtober 5th: Sheet Pan Fried Eggs Eggtober 6th: Raw Egg (Both Versions)

Eggtober 7th: Painted Egg Eggtober 8th: Rice Crispy Eggs Eggtober 9th: Chocolate Souffle Eggtober 10th: Hot and Sour Soup

Eggtober 11th: Flan Eggtober 12th: Fried Eggs and Bacon Eggtober 13th: Ramen Eggs Eggtober 14th: Tiger Skin Egg

Eggtober 15th: Fried Egg with Berries Eggtober 16th: Cheesy Baked Cream Eggs Eggtober 17th: Mushroom Quiche Eggtober 18th: Cipriani Cake

Eggtober 19th: Pavlova with Strawberry Jam Eggtober 20th: Deviled Egg Eggtober 21st: Hard-boiled Egg and Mayo Eggtober 22nd: Scrambled Eggs with Cheese

Eggtober 23rd: Omurice Eggtober 24th: Shrimp Fried Rice Eggtober 25th: Uovo in Raviolo Eggtober 26th: Image of Fried Egg on Jack-o-lantern.

Eggtober 27th: Tea Egg Eggtober Eggtober 28th: Monster Eggs Eggtober 29th: Korean Egg Bread Eggtober 30th: Fried Egg on Magenta in the Stlye of @quezify

Eggtober 31st: Fried Egg on Burger Eggtober 31st Bonus: Egg Creature from SNOBBISM

Special thanks to my bae, @actualaster for the love and support, @hannikka for the encouraging words, @lady-quen for the ongoing collab, and @quezify for being the best host. Love you all! I am putting the King Sized Reese's and KitKat candy bars in your metaphorical Halloween bags.

[leejenowrld]

Hi love, I just wanted to pop by and say how much I loved My First and Last. It’s been a while since I really felt satisfied after reading a fic <3 I also think it’s cute how you’re allowing us readers to explore more into Jeno & y/n’s relationship! I do hope one day you’ll create a master list so it’ll be easier for us to get back to them since I know you’ll be creating a bunch of one-shots and responding to scenario requests. If it’s not too much to ask, I’d really like to see how Jeno cares for her when she has a moment of insecurity/anxiety attack (.◜��◝) Thank you for blessing us with this fic once again, I’m looking very forward to reading more from you!!

heyyy!! thank you so so so much !!!! glad you enjoyed it. and same <3333

tumblr has shadowbanned me so i’m very upset and madraww and frustrated but i’ll let you know how jeno reacts are to her anxiety :) if you want an actual one shot of it i’m sure to do it in the future (when i’m not shadow banned)

so for yn it does happen quite regularly, she gets very stressed and doesn’t deal well with pressure or when she’s under pressure. a few times jeno can sense she’s gonna have a panic attack (cus he knows her really well, like the back of his hand) and it’s really fucking sweet he is able to prevent it before it happens :(( it’s like a magic power of love. he does this by calming her down before her nerves can take over, he’ll comfort her and reassure her that everyone will be ok :(( he’ll use reasoning, like for example she used to stress a lot about assignments and exams and he’d just point out the facts to her, eg you’ve done so much revision, you never fail anything, and it works !! he helps the issue get to the back of her mind. and an easy one, lmao he just kisses her and holds her, she forgets everything and the world melts around lol

but when it does happen. and it does. so if he’s not there she’ll call him over or text him and he comes asap, he drops everything and goes over to his girl immediately.

he’ll immediately bring her into his arms and just holds her close, the warmth of his body and his heart beat against hers helps her loads. he also likes to trace soft patterns on her back with his fingers

a kiss on her temple or forehead, whispers of sweet affirmation

he creates a nice environment, dimming the lights, lighting a few candles, and playing her favourite songs

his gf is a psychology major so ofc he knows a few breathing exercises and stuff like that! he will guide her through synchronized breathing, his breath aligning with hers, a way of him telling her that he will always be there for her

he lights her fav candle and scents

he just listens! like he fr just nods and hums as she explains herself. she tends to ramble and sometimes not make a lot of sense because ppl can get like that when they’re feeling a lot but he never shows that he doesn’t understand her point :(( he just listens to her and makes her feel heard. and also if she isn’t making sense, because he knows her so well he can always understand what her point is, he helps her articulate her feelings, he’ll be like “oh so you mean this”

he alsoooo will help her do what’s right. like say she’s stressed cus she’s arguing with her friend, he’ll listen to her and make her feel understood (cus she always is in the right lol like my girl never does no harm, she doesn’t cause any shit)

their communication got iffy in the one shot but now it’s one of their strengths :D

[valriety]

SDV: Bachelor Words of Affirmation HCs~!

Post Type: Fluff, SFW, Platonic/Romantic x Reader, Cursing, Mentions of Family In Sam, Alex, Shane and Seb, Minor Angst.

Characters: Sam, Elliot, Harvey, Alex, Shane, and Sebastian.

GN Reader (You/Yours).

Hiya, here's some HCs for ya! I didn't really mean to, but some of these honestly turned out a little sad? Especially Shanes, I just think it would be a big source of inner struggle for him tbh. But, I hope you like these! Lemme know what you think :D

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Sam:

Usually pretty good at getting his feelings across.... except for when he has to say it. The enthusiasm is there! But his delivery is off, and he gets sidetracked - either unknowingly, or because he's anxious about what he wants to say.

Someone will be mid conversation with him, when suddenly - without warning - he'll start talking a mile-a-minute, stuttering through all his words and making multiple semi-related side points, before finally, he says what he wanted to say.

He's a bit starved on the recieving end? Unfortunately, affirmation and verbal affection isn't made a big deal out of in his family - especially on his parent's end. So, instead he'll usually get a lot of it from Abigail and Seb. The three of them are all pretty close, having known eachother for ages, so they know exactly what makes eachother happy :,)

When you become friends, get prepared for the endless questions about your farm and it's upkeep that he's about to unleash upon you. He's thinks you're so cool for it, and isn't shy about letting you know.

Tries so hard to be one of those cool and confident friends, who sorta adopts you and teaches you about fitting into the valley. His effort.... is uh, noted...

If he has a crush on you, he starts trying really hard to stand out, by showing you just how much he's listened to and learnt from everything you've said - even if it was just in passing. Wants to see the efforts of your hobbies, and will think it's pretty neat no matter what it is. Gets super excited about your music tastes.

Has the same reaction to any compliment ever. Gets all blushy, and has this goofy grin on his face as he reaches a hand to rub at the back of his neck. Cannot make eye contact for the life of him. Gets even more flustered if its you too <3

Elliot:

Natural talker. Probably came out of the womb a master of knowing about social cues and articulating feelings lol.

He compliments everyone, at anytime, and on everything. But somehow, it's never excessive? Can be subtle or overt with it too. Loves when it gets reciprocated,

Amazing at giving advice too. He's just one of those people, y'know? He's approachable, easy to open up to, and never judges, so a lot of people come to him when they need a second opinion.

He's a bit of a rock in alot of his relationships... which is a lovely thing to be, and he loves being someone others can rely on! But, it gets a little overwhelming for him sometimes, and he has a hard time taking his own advice. Just wants someone he can rely on.

He's already in your corner by the time you become friends, after all, he can relate to you! Elliot knows what it's like being new to the Valley and having to navigate fitting in, so he understands that having to build the farm from the ground up must be an incredibly hard thing to do. He thinks you're amazing for it, and makes sure to let you know.

So helpful if you're anxious about meeting others and making new friends, reassuring you that they'll like you just as much as he does, and giving you hints as to what they like.

If he develops a crush on you, then he'll start being a little more romantic and flirty when it comes to his affirmation. Not subtle about it either - he likes you, and he's not ashamed or shy if you figure it out.

Writes poems for you all the time, and would love to read one of these for you whilst playing his piano for backing <3

Harvey:

Despite how shy he can sometimes get, he's actually pretty good at this! His job requires him to be able to give helpful, level-headed advice, but he also just kinda has an affinity for it. Affirmation comes easily to him, so at this point, it really just comes down to whether or not he has the courage to say it.

Another person who is very easy to open up to and has good advice - though, he's also just a very good active listener, recalling minor details about things that had been said even in passing. Is one of the only people who Shane trusts enough to talk about what's going on for him internally.

Has an amazing support on the recieving end in the form of his co-worker, Maru, and when neither of them have any work to do, they'll take a break and talk over a cup of coffee - giving eachother ample time and space to talk, and their piece.

Is not at all starved for compliments, recieving praise almost everyday from his friends and patients. Everyone's very grateful for him and all that he does.

If you're friends, he plays a very subtle and supportive role. Notices a lot about you, including the stuff you say, but also the physical stuff - like if you seem to be tired, or in pain. Always makes sure that you know he's there for you, if you ever needed him to be.

If he has a crush on you, he tries his best not to let it affect anything about the way he affirms you. He cares about you alot, so he would hate to change things or shy away simply to avoid being as flustered by you.

Starts making an effort to compliment you on the more personal things, like how pretty you look in your outfit, or how happy it makes him to see how happy you look today. Gets so embarrassed when he does this <3

Alex:

Ooh, definitely not his strongest point, that's for sure. He just doesn't often really get the urge for it, and even when he does, he struggles with finding the right words for it.

Amazing at it when it comes to the physical stuff though! He knows alot about physique and discipline, so if anyone's looking for tips with training, building stamina, or even just need someone to be enthusiastic about it with them - then he's your guy! 10/10 hypeman and personal trainer.

Very close with his grandparents, and while he does struggle a bit with letting them know how he feels about them sometimes, it's not as difficult for him as it is with others. Recieves a lot from them on the reciprocal side, so he's not really too starved for it on that front, though he does wish for a similar sort of relationship with some of his friends.

Another one of his strong points, is that if you're friends, and he has something to say, he will say it. He likes your outfit? He'll tell you. He thinks you look like you've gotten a bit stronger lately? He's letting you know right now. His delivery may be a little off sometimes, and it may not come out exactly the way he meant it - but he truely does means well.

Once he realises he has a crush on you, he realises that he may have been holding out with the compliments he wanted to give you in the past - often watering them down or moving on because he didn't really know what the right words were.

He's trying to be more patient and trusting of himself, after all, he knows he has the words, he just needs a bit more time to think and be sure about them. Does his best to express how he feels to you from now on <3

Shane:

Another one of his weak points. For the most part, Shane prefers to be left alone by others, so he tries not to go against the grain, in case others get the wrong idea.

Secretly though, it's not that he's bad at it. He's not dense, and can admit that the people around him honestly are pretty cool sometimes, or that the way someone dressed looked good on them recently. But he'll move on from those thoughts quite quickly, and he certainly won't say it.

Shane likes to believe that he doesn't need anything like that for himself. But really, it's actually something that he desperately craves - latching internally onto even the smallest of comments whenever he recieves them, even if he externally shows distaste for it.

Doesn't trust himself to give advice, so usually just tries to listen instead if he ends up in those situations. Harvey is probably one of his only reciprocal relationships in this regard, and though it's only really in private that they talk, Shane reckons somehow they understand eachother quite well.

It takes a while for Shane to get used to people, so if you become friends, just be patient. He might be a little stand-offish about any compliments or affirmation you give him at first, but he can't deny that he doesn't crave that sort of platonic intimacy with someone, and eventually he'll start easing more into it. As you grow closer, he might even reciprocate.

If he did develop one, then by the time he realised he had a crush on you, he'd probably be a lot more comfortable with affirmation. Looks out for you in his own way, listening to your struggles, and offering to help out where he can, even if it's just to lessen the load.

He writes you letters sometimes. Mostly about what he struggles to tell you, but also just about how thankful he is for you. He's never sent one though, hiding them away in a drawer instead. Thinks he'll read them to you eventually, at least, when he feels a little stronger <3

Sebastian:

Sebastian is pretty quiet and attentive, content with being on the sidelines, and just sorta... observing. He's also blunt. Like, really blunt... and a bit angsty, which is what most people tend to expect from him.

So when he does speak up, to give a compliment or reassure - whatever it is, it usually comes as a bit of a surprise to people. Because he's very sparing with his affection, saving it for only those who he's closest too, and because he'll say the sweetest, most thoughtful things as if it were simply just common sense.

He's not close whatsoever with his family, and he's especially closed-off from Demetrius. But at least with Robin and Maru, he does recognise how hard they work, and attempts to put in a little effort every now and again.

Sorta helpful with advice? He tends to keep to himself, so he doesn't have too much transferable knowledge, but he's very good at listening, and he's even better at helping others to work through their feelings. Is usually the first person Sam or Abigail go to when they need a bit of reassurance.

People tend to be a little intimidated by him, so he's a little starved for verbal affection. He tries to be content with it.

If you're friends, it may take him a little while to speak up to you, but he'll be really happy if you notice something about him - especially if it's about his work, since he's so used to other's dismissing it. Thinks it an absolute joy to hear you so kindly affirm his efforts like that, and finds himself feeling a lot closer to you after that.

If he has a crush on you, I can see him getting really sentimental with some of the things he says to you when you're alone together. Flirts alot more too, though sometimes he'll play it off as a joke.

Offers to take you on rides to all sorts of places, and flirts seriously with you when you get there, way more than he usually does too. He's also a little shit (/affectionate lol), so he thinks it's amusing if he manages to make you flustered <3

A/N: These were kinda difficult ngl! But I had so much fun with these - especially Shane and Sebastian. I think those two especially would have the most unique experiences with this love language, so I had a lot of ideas for them and really tried to play into it :) - Lemme know what you thought!

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