#it’s not even always abt fatness either like

[weed666]

need to get away from the ‘trans ppl with skinny anime characters as their icons that use skinny anime characters in all their trans memes and only reblog skinny anime art’ section of tumblr and find more of the ‘trans ppl who appreciate body diversity and art of trans ppl that actually looks like the trans ppl i know irl and not like a conventionally attractive model’ section. where r y’all at. pls for the love of god help me get me out of here i’m fighting for my fucking life where is the fat hairy transgender art i can’t take this anymore

[golisopod-mutual]

did you spend your entire youth feeling lonely; alienated and othered from your peers for an indescribable, unknowable reason that seemed to just be some intrinsic thing about you, specifically. or were you normal

[solarlunarsstuff]

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩

☆ Headcannons With Mike Schmidt ☆

Synopsis: This is basically abt Mike Schmidt cuz yes- (sfw and nsfw).

Tw: Dacryphilia, thigh riding, fingering, fluff n smut, switch!Mike, switch!Reader, manhandiling, orgasm denial, squirting, dumbification, and cuddling.

A/n: Abby also catches the bus in this lil drabble, ots also short I'm sorry :(, anyway. Enjoy this breedable man's hdcs!!! ♡♡

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

(SFW HDCS)

☆ First of all, you've both been friends for years, he had given you the keys to his house for the purpose of trusting you

☆ You got up early to check on him, but by that time Abby had already gotten to school by the bus

☆ You both would cuddle in the morning before he left for his agonizing night of work

☆ You would also cook for the poor man so he wouldn't be left on an empty stomach

☆ You've always remembered to give him goodbye kisses before he would start the car

☆ Once he got to work, he would always keep a picture of you in his wallet, either way, he loved how pretty you were

☆ Mike would slowly eat his lunch made from you.

☆ Every single type of affection you did to him would make him melt

☆ And once he got home he would shower you with kisses

☆ On the lips, hands, neck, anything would work for him as long as you were in his protective arms

☆ He even got a bit risky at the dinner table where Mike, Abby, and you.

☆ Mike would rest his hand on your thigh while you both would listen to Abby talk about her "friends" and drawings

☆ Abby started to stick on you, drawing you and Mike holding hands with some colorful background

☆ Mike has always loved you, ever since he saw you in preschool

☆ He may still be a bit nervous around you but still yet, he lived for your love

☆ He would often give you hugs from behind when your cooking with his bedhead, tank top, and sweats

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

(NSFW HDCS)

☆ Morning sex, all the way

☆ It's like you'll come to his house and he would act all needy and would beg for you to ride him

☆ This happens so much that you started to go dumb over his dick

☆ You would obviously agree and lose track of time and he ends up late for work

☆ Mike is so obsessed that near the end of his shift he would call you to check in but it would end up in phone sex

"Yeah, lemme' hear that fuckin' cunt-fuuuuckk"

☆ He would breathe out while his throbbing cock was laying in his calaused hands

"Go on. Finish f' me? Mhmm, that's it..."

☆ Mike would walk you through it and cooed at any noise that came out of your body

"Shiiiit- can't wait to break that fuckin' pussy when I get home.."

☆ Ohh boy, you knew he would absolutely fuck you up

☆ You also knew that when he gets home from shifts, he would get a bit madder each night

☆ You didn't mind, like at all.

☆ Mike was drilling his dick straight into your puffed up cunt, not letting up to let you breathe

☆ You've told him so many times that when he comes home mad you get a bit worried but he brushes it off

☆ Besides that, he loves when you take control too

☆ Having him not shutting up when he was being to loud

☆ Grabbing the opportunity to shove your panties in his mouth

☆ Mike is so far into bliss that he lolled his tongue out to let you spit in his mouth

☆ He calls you whore, you call him slut. Either or you both love degrading each other

☆ Even if he's not in the mood he'll let you hump his thigh so it's not as messy

☆ But it ends in him finger fucking you

"Aww, poor baby wants my fat cock in her? Well to fucking bad, deal with it you fucking whore.."

☆ Mike was the person that had founded your G-spot, making you squirt everytime but sometimes wouldn't let his poor baby finish :(

☆ He would always lick and suck it off of his fingers and helped you wash up

☆ He was the one that made you want more

☆ Mike Schmidt was the only man on earth that could make you come as hard on and around his cock

《☆♡☆》

[lovebugism]

i have a lot of nightmares and shake a lot when nervous. could u maybe write something abt a reader that goes through similar issues, and eddie comforts them and tries to make them feel safe? u can do whatever u like with this, i just need some fluff! :]

as someone who also has frequent nightmares, this was very self-indulgent heheh i hope you like it :D — eddie calms you down when you have a bad dream (hurt/comfort, established relationship, cw for mentions of panic attacks, 1.2k)

Eddie didn’t know he loved you until now. Like, right now.

He’d always had an inkling, at the very least, but he didn’t know for sure until he got you into his bed — bare-faced and swallowed whole in an oversized t-shirt older than you are. You share a single pillow with him despite having your own, leaving your noses mere inches apart. His tired eyes go a bit cross-eyed when he looks at you.

Despite his heavy head and heavier eyelids, he doesn’t want to stop looking at you. He doesn’t want to stop talking to you, either. He doesn’t want to fall asleep at all ‘cause he’s scared he’ll miss you too much. 

And that’s when he realizes that he’s head over heels, completely, utterly, and hopelessly in love with you.

“You asleep yet?” he whispers into the dark bedroom, lit only by the streams of silver moonlight slipping through the curtains.

You shake your head against the pillow you share with him. “No,” you mumble — voice thick with exhaustion, eyes fluttered shut.

“Good,” Eddie replies, shifting on the mattress until he melts further into it. Your cold feet entwine with his warmer ones. He exhales a contented sigh through his nose. “Me neither…”

You can’t be entirely sure who dozed off first, but you know for certain you wake up before he does. 

3:47 A.M. blinks at you in bright red numbers on the nightstand. The witching hour greets you along with a rapidly beating heart, thrumming hard against your ribcage like it’s trying to escape from its confines.

The nightmare was a vivid one when it painted the backs of your eyelids, but you can’t really remember it now. You think that might be worse. Now you don’t know why you’re so scared — you just know that you are.

Fear, that’s all you can think about now, as your body trembles with a heavy, ice-cold feeling. Fear. Panic. Dread. 

The nightmare fades. Eddie’s body, warm and comforting next to yours, becomes a much more tangible thing. But you just can’t shake the feeling it left behind. The bad dream clings to you like smoke and swallows you whole before you can blink.

You shake with the longing to hold the boy beside you. If only you could clutch onto Eddie like a life vest, or a life-sized teddy bear, maybe then you could soothe your racing heart. But you know you don’t want to wake him, just like you know you don’t want him to see you like this — so torn up over a stupid bad dream.

You sit on the edge of the mattress and try to calm yourself down. The attempt is futile. You end up with a tight chest, a pounding heart, and two cheeks damp with fat tears. 

After no longer than five minutes of trying to stave off a panic attack by yourself, do you notice the bed shifting behind you. A wide palm smooths over your trembling shoulders a second later.

Eddie squints at your shivering silhouette, trying to see you better through the darkness and bleary haze of sleep. He finds you slouched over and clawing at your chest like something’s wrong. Your choked-back sobs and quiet sniffles aren’t any less concerning.

“You okay?” the boy slurs as he sits up behind you.

“‘M sorry,” you blurt, voice wet with emotion. You don’t know exactly what you’re apologizing for. You just feel like you should. Through hitched breaths, you manage out, “I didn’t— I didn’t mean to wake you— I’m sorry.”

Eddie shakes his wild head in response. The mattress squeaks under his weight as he shifts closer to you. “It’s okay. I woke up on my own,” he tells you, even though that’s not exactly the truth. “What happened, huh? Are you okay?”

You sniffle and try to respond through feeble gulps of air. “It was just a bad dream. I’m okay—” you blubber through tears, breath catching halfway through.

With his palm pressed to your spine, Eddie can feel each of your rattling breaths as you fight to drag them in. It makes his own chest ache. Your panic is his own.

“Breathe, baby, c’mon,” he urges gently as he slips in beside you. With one hand over your trembling shoulder, he slides his other over your heart. The delicate organ patters with an inhuman vigor against his palm. 

“Gotta calm down, sweetheart,” he murmurs against your temple before pressing a kiss there. “‘Fore you heart explodes on me. Breathe, babe. You’re okay.”

Your swelling throat tightens. “I don’t feel good,” you confess through tiny whimpers, ‘cause you don’t know how else to tell him it feels like you’re dying. You put a cold, trembling hand over one of Eddie’s — the one gently cradling your heart — and fight to stay grounded.

The boy’s brows pinch with concern. “Do you feel like you’re gonna be sick?”

You think for a moment. Then shake your head.

Eddie rubs a hand up and down the length of your back. “You’re doing good, babe. Just keep breathing for me. That’s it.”

He pulls you closer, embracing you despite the awkward angle. Your shoulder presses into his chest as your head nestles between his jaw and shoulder. You rest there until it no longer feels like you’re fighting for each breath. Until your ragged sobs turn into mousy sniffles.

The first thing you think to do after you’ve calmed is apologize.

“‘M sorry,” you murmur, thick with leftover emotion.

You feel his head shake against you, untamed curls tickling your skin. “Don’t apologize. It’s okay.”

You snivel. “I feel like such a baby…”

“Everyone has bad dreams, babe. That’s life,” Eddie tells you with a lighthearted laugh. “I can’t count how many times I’ve slept on the couch after having one just so I could be closer to Wayne. Like, that’s embarrassing.”

“No, it isn’t,” you argue with a scrunched nose, cracking a small (but no less sincere) grin.

Eddie smiles at your smiling. He squeezes your shoulder with a gentle hand. “Wanna talk about it?” he offers, watching as you visibly ponder the question. You shake your head in response. He nods in understanding. “Wanna go back to sleep?”

You shake your head again, much less hesitant this time. You’re too scared to shut your eyes for longer than a blink now — lest the nightmare threaten to plague your mind again.

“Wanna sit in the kitchen with me while I make us some hot cocoa?” Eddie offers then.

You nod slowly, pursing your lips to the side of your mouth to hide the smile pulling there. You can’t help but beam, though, when he smacks a kiss to the warm apple of your cheek.

“C’mon, sweet thing,” he urges as he rises from the bed, pulling you gently with him. He guides you out of his bedroom with a warm hand cradling your smaller one. The quiet trailer fills with the sounds of creaking floorboards, bare feet shuffling against carpet, and Eddie’s tender voice.

“I’ll even pick out marshmallows from the Lucky Charms box to put in your cocoa—” he says before a yawn cuts him off. “—‘Cause that’s how much I love you.”

[meowpupp]

This is probably a bit more self indulgent, but imagine if owner!Price decides if pup!Kyle is trained well enough to be a good boy, he trusts that he can leave him with puppy!reader

Kyle and her having the whole day to just themselves, imagine her just wandering around the couch to find the other hybrid laying on the bed just staring her like he wants to eat her <3

Being the ever so kinder one of the two, willingly spreads her legs for him, and he treats her nicely for once leaving her surprised 🥰

Other self indulgent ideas,, Hybrid pup!Kyle would probably scare off all the other hybrids from trying to sniff her sweet scent or even nip at her tail— Can’t have such a sweet thing ruined by some other mutts (Price probably trained him well for that too)

I LOVE this whole ask, but I want to focus on the second half because it's just so AHHHHGG

tw://hybrid smut, breif mention of noncon (1 sentence abt grinding), knotting, CHUBBY READER PER USUAL, unedited 😭😭

price who knows you're a pretty girl. he takes pride in it, making sure both you and gaz are well taken care of. you're precious, and he treats you as such.

but price isn't stupid either. he knows that when dumb street mutts pick up on your sweet scent, they cant help but drool and pull at their leashes. it's partly not their fault, a pretty young thing like you? prime age to carry a pup or two of your own? he has to keep you on a tight leash, or else you might just be bred by some big, mean mutt at the dog park.

everytime he takes you out, let's you off leash, you always end up being bullied. other dog hybrids twice you size nipping your tail, your ears. they push you to the ground, grinding their tents against you. they can't help it! your fat hips are perfect for breeding, and the short skirts price has you in are all too easy to push up.

half the time you come back from the park frazzled and overwhelmed. poor cunt all slick n wet as your body craves to be fucked. those are the times price lets you ride your toys. the fake knot is your only relief, even if the silicone isn't nearly as thick and long as price.

but then kyle comes along. a mean looking hybrid. he's tall, broad and lean. he was born to guard and protect, which was awfully convient for price.

the other pup is practically stuck to your side. like a bodyguard, he's never out of sight. once glance from him and most other hybrids scamper. he rarely has to get aggressive, but when he does, it's downright terrifying.

kyle flares up, shoulders taught, teeth grit. he can't help the deep growl that ripples from his chest. he pushes you behind him, and if Price wasn't there to call him off, he'd rip the other mutt apart.

but it doesn't stop there. the whole day he's on edge. he can't help it, his entire world is you. you're his mate, his pup, his girl. and the thought of someone else shoving their cocks into your tight cunt, fucking you full? it makes him feral.

price has found that there's only one way to help calm kyle down. letting him fuck his cum deep in your woumb. the pup practically snarling and growling into your neck, fingerprints leaving marks on your hips as he practically muals your neck. he can't help but knott you, pumping you full with so much cum is practically makes your tummy bloat.

marking you his. ensuring no other mutt even glances your way.

taglist! (I'm sorry I forget to do this all the time) @titaniasfairy @notalwaysa (?)

[rizsu]

tartaglia post please............. my ginger princess.......... stop posting abt genshin and start writing.......... 😔

+ love, ‘su: smth smth tar-tar-taglia lover of snezhnayan queen ﾉ childe insists you like being called ‘doll’

“seriously, you’re fucking dead.”

“no, i’m fucking ajax—ouch!?”

a firm kick to his shin was all it took to shut him up. it’s to be expected that even a crazed battle man like him couldn’t resist the pain of heels. well, to be precise, being kicked by someone wearing heels.

you’re familiar with childe, much to your dismay. you’ve always gotten into squabbles with him when you two were younger. it’s extended to your adulthood. as if your fathers being the best of buds weren’t enough, they mistook your hate for the boy as young love. elder people and their beliefs will soon bring the nation into shambles.

“you must bully him because you like him, right sweetie?” your foolish father would tease you, nudging your mother’s arm.

childe also wasn’t free from the teasing. his younger sisters would often sing a song, suggesting romance between him and the girl he swore to believe is a man.

see, you two aren’t enemies, but you aren’t friends either. you both just happened to have a dislike for the other. if you were good at something, he’d be better. if he were good at something, you’d be better. to him, you’re like a roach that refuses to die. to you, he’s like a fly that won’t stop buzzing.

perhaps this is what both your families saw. you two were so similar that it caused rivalry. the fathers, however, saw this as an opportunity. what better way to connect the best of buds than to become in-laws? it’s a picture-perfect plan! a plan that didn’t require the consent of the two parties involved because they foresaw the fat “no.”

that is how you were left with him in a room alone. you’re not sure if you’re going crazy because of the annoyance, but you are pretty sure you heard a chair being dragged to lock the door from the outside.

you rushed home from an outing with friends due to an emergency call from your father. next time, you’ll remind yourself to not answer any of his calls. your outfit is now being wasted in the guest’s room.

“what?” raising an eyebrow, childe looked at you up and down, observing your appearance.

“oh, did you get dolled up for me? how sweet of you but i’m not— fuck.” he held his tongue, hissing at the pain of yet another kick.

“i did not get “dolled up” for you, okay? don’t be an asshole,” you spat, crossing your arms.

childe laughed the pain off, stretching his arms as he turned his back to you, walking to the lovely bed your mother prepared for him.

once he got comfortable, he turned on his side, propping his head up with his hand.

“you can stand there if you want, or join me.” patting the space beside him, he teased you. childe’s aware of how annoying heels can be to stand in. he has sisters and a mother — he never hears the end of it.

unfortunately for you, your pride bested you. you held your head high, refusing to lay on the same bed as him.

...unfortunately for you, childe’s also an asshole that can turn people’s words and their meanings around.

“so you’re standing there because you don’t want to ruin your outfit? my, you really got dolled up for me.”

hook, line, and sinker. you took the bait. thanks to his provoking, you kicked the heels off, practically stomping to the bed. you laid on your back, keeping your arms folded across your chest.

“hi, doll.” a sickening voice laced with honey spoke.

“fuck off.” a fitting response.

“no. i don’t want to.”

however, childe will always be childe. he cannot “fuck off” because you want him to. he will continue to fuck on and bear the consequences later.

“but if i fuck off, who’s gonna see you dolled up again? how cruel, doll,” he faked a cry, wiping the invisible tears.

“stop calling me that!” you ordered, furrowing your eyebrows at the nickname.

“haha, no.”

you didn’t respond. instead, you closed your eyes. maybe some sleep will help.

or maybe not.

bold of you to think you of all people can get even a minute’s rest when he's around. he’s not childe if he doesn’t extend an arm to poke your cheek — multiple times.

you refused to yield, so he carried on. since the poking won’t work, he fiddled with your earrings.

that, too, didn’t work. he’s running out of things to do with his hand. perhaps it’s time to up his game.

shuffling closer to you, he leaned in to your ear, readying himself to whisper nonsense to disrupt your so-called slumber.

“psst, i’m gonna tell everyone you like being called doll.”

“don’t you fucking dare.” your eyes shot open immediately, looking at the perpetrator with disgust.

“look at that, you woke up!” he cheered, smiling at you. “my, my. you really do like being called doll…”

you took a slow blink, coming to the realisation that he’s going to do whatever he wants. whether it’s calling you “doll” or becoming the bane of your existence.

[semperamans]

hi!! ur lil blurbs abt benny are sooo cute its sickening!! so i wanted jump on the train and send in a benny request!! ok although benny isnt loudest of the club and kinda keeps to himself, i think it makes him super observant and aware of wants going on around him

so imagine his girl is kinda clumsy and doesn’t pay as much attention to her surroundings compared to benny, or in a deep convo with friends she made in the club (bc we know she’s a YAPPER) but benny is always running around so she won’t accidentally hurt herself on a table corner or place her hand down on some broken glass OR protect her when he sees something fishy and needs to act fast

basically “baby proofying” things so he can keep her safe😣😣 and maybe his girl catches up on it at some point and tries to “get hurt” but he’s alr a step ahead bc he loves her BAD:((

love ur page and so exited to read more!! also love the gracie pfp its so cute:))

hi bby! :’) thank you so much for your cutie words <3 you’re a doll, i mean it!

this!!! is!!! so!!! cute!!!

you ARE benny’s baby so of course he’s going to go above and beyond to protect u :( he notices you’re always hitting your damn hip on the sharp corner of the bar, so one day he comes in with sandpaper and a bucket of paint that hasn’t been cracked open since before either of you were born. “benny, the fuck are you doin’?” “nothin’” bc it really is nothing to him. it’s just second nature. it hurts you, so he’s going to take care of it. so he sands the point down to a dull curve, slaps a coat of paint on it, and viola, the only hip bruises you’ll have are the ones he puts there.

“y'ever notice how benny doesn’t let you out of his sight?” you’re so drunk you can’t remember the name of the girl to your left. is it wanda? wilhelmina? whatever it is it’s pretty and you feel awful that it’s slipped your mind, but she’s a new hang-around (totally besotted by cal). “i mean it,” she says, stubbing out her cigarette and pointing to you. “that man looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky.” sure enough you make eye contact with benny the moment you lift that pretty little chin. he blinks slowly, almost cat-like, before an easy smile spreads over his pink lips. pretty. he's so pretty and you've just gotta tell him. unsteady on a good day, you're an accident waiting to happen when you're tipsy and benny knows. suddenly the smell of his aftershave flurries around you and he's there. you could have sworn he was just at the pool table but now he's at your side, taking your elbow gently in his large hand, brushing the hair from your sweaty cheeks with the other. "benny," you hum, nuzzling into his palm and jesus christ, it only fuels that protective fire even more. "wanted to tell you a secret." "oh, yeah?" he's still holding onto you but bends where you can press your lips against his ear with ease "tell me." and so you do, over and over in one cherry-wine scented murmur. "think you're so pretty, benny so so so pretty. jus' wanted you to know that i like when y'take care of me when I'm a little drunk and just always. y'just mean so much to me so so so much. thank you." you're pawing at his shirt, practically preening in his ear and yeah, he's going to take care of you in some other ways tonight but for now he just takes your chin between his thumb and index fingers, plants a fat kiss on your forehead, and smiles down at your flushed face. "you don't gotta thank me, baby. c'mon. how 'bout some water?"

[driaswrld]

what was i made for? — gojo satoru and geto suguru.

wc : 1.3k

summary : reader and the boys go through the aftermath of the star plasma vessel incident, which leaves reader questioning just how much things have changed and if there's even a way to move forward from here.

part of : the star paradox collection.

notes : this is readers pov of how things are going, and im hoping to do satoru and suguru's own parts as well bcus this really fleshes out the dynamics in the trio. also, the tsr collection will dive into more of this in terms of character analysis for the sake of the au - but i won't kill y'all with too much angst. yet. IM KIDDING CHILL!!

other : jjk szn two spoilers! mentions of toji incident, mentions of hickeys, reader dissociates, rs label is undefined (they're literally dating without knowing it bye) yes im also having thoughts abt barbie goodbye. @kfmcykdy gets the privilege tag today <33

current casette : what was i made for? - barbie, the album.

The summer of ‘06, everything changed.

It started days after the incident with Riko.

You’d been sitting on Suguru’s bed, back leaned against the headboard as he smoked a cigarette, shirtless and flat on his back, head leaned over the edge of the bed.

More often than usual now, Suguru smokes.

Satoru makes fun with it all in good faith most times and takes a few drags from the stick himself before coughing out the smoke.

He’d say something along the lines of him and Suguru being the first to kick the bucket, leaving you behind — one from lung cancer the other from diabetes, cause truly, there’s nothing in this world living and breathing that could kill them.

Suguru would say, he isn’t afraid of death. And if he goes out, he wants it to be because you and Satoru smothered him in his sleep.

Everything’s changed, hasn’t it?

“It’s raining,” he murmurs, a puff of smoke leaving his mouth. Subconsciously, you lean forward a little to inhale it, chasing him. Always chasing.

Because if Suguru is smoke and Satoru is fire, what are you? If they’re the strongest, what are you? “Satoru forgot his umbrella.” You finish for him, like you’ve taken residence in his mind.

Suguru hates it. But his existence, it’s yours and Satoru’s isn’t it?

There’s a hickey adorning the base of Suguru’s throat, another trail of marks covering his collarbone. If you looked lower, you’d see more of you and Satoru embedded in his flesh. But even now, you can’t move your eyes below Suguru’s neck. So you look away entirely.

Too many times these past days have you looked straight at him, and have your mind transported back to the image of him bloody and bruised, caked in crimson from the edge of his shoulders, across the expanse of his chest down to the curved line of his pelvis.

It's funny how now the scar is shaped like a star.

That day, you’d just returned from a mission, a day later than your arrival was scheduled for. Your bag clattered out of your hand the moment you opened your dorm door. Drops of blood in dried trails led from the doorway to your bed, to the bathroom then back.

He came to you first, and you weren’t there.

“name.” Suguru whispers, and when you look over to him again, he’s sitting upright and looking at you. “Where’d you go just now?” He asks, and a chilly feeling blossoms on your skin. But it’s not from the rain breeze wafting through the window.

If I tell you, you’ll hold me.

And if you hold me, I’ll shatter in your arms.

“Just daydreaming.” You say and he looks at you, one brow raised slightly. Suguru leans to the side and flicks the cigarette butt through the open window.

He doesn’t ask. Maybe because he knows if Satoru asked him, he wouldn’t say it either.

Everything’s changed.

“Okay,” he says and Suguru, your beautiful Suguru — “name.” He calls to you again, except this time it comes out softer, more like a plea.

His body shifts atop the sheets, curling into a fetal position, the side of his cheek resting on the fat of your thigh. “Don’t go too far away from me next time,” he whispers, your fingers sifting through his dark hair.

Two days later, Satoru leaves for a mission in Shinjuku.

He wakes early, knocks on your dorm door twice, slides a note under the door with a thin packet of powdered candy taped to it.

You don’t get out of bed to pick it up. Satoru thinks you must be tired again. You look so tired these days.

When you finally wake up, it’s afternoon.

Suguru is home from his own mission, and he makes you a cup of tea, kisses your cheek and heads to his room.

Lately, the thing you and Suguru have most in common is that you sleep. All the time, sleep. You wonder if it’s for different reasons.

Then later, the clock in the corridor of the dormitory building strikes nine.

You hear Satoru’s shoes against the hardwood floors and you look over your shoulder from where you’re seated on the common room couch, some cheesy romcom playing on the tv.

“Yo.” Satoru smiles, white plastic bag rustling in his grasp when he pushes his sunglasses up to rest in his snowy hair. You smile back at him, and despite yourself, your gaze goes back to the tv, the soft lighting hiding the furrow of your brow.

Does he not notice?

No, it’s not that.

“Did you eat already?” He asks, setting the bag down on the coffee table in front of you. Rather than sitting beside you on the couch, he pushes the plastic bag to the side and rests his weight there on the coffee table, one leg crossed in an ‘L shape’ over the other.

His collar is high, even though it’s hot out.

Maybe, if you didn’t know him enough, all these things would sneak past your gaze.

Everyday, every new detail, every new scar whether physical or not, gnaws at you like a disease stirring your insides.

Satoru won’t say it, but he doesn’t like when anyone touches his neck anymore.

He used to love it, when Suguru would kiss his nape, when you move the soft strands aside to cut his hair. When the tip of Suguru’s nose tickles his adam’s apple, or when you lick a stripe at the bottom of his throat.

Limitless. Infinity. Invincible.

Until it isn't.

“Yeah, Shoko brought over takeout,” you say and the glow of his blue orbs don’t really feel like Satoru right now.

If this was a month ago, you’d laugh at yourself for thinking that. When is Satoru never Satoru?

But, has everything really changed?

You want to reach a hand out to him and unzip the top of his uniform, maybe then he could breathe a little easier. But why?

Why do your fingers tremble in your lap?

Something inside of you feels like your fingers will be met with a barrier. And if you try to touch him now, with a barrier between you two, it will kill you again.

More than the sight of his near lifeless body ever could.

“name?” He tilts his head to the side, and your eyes dart back to him, unaware that you even looked away in the first place.

There’s a sound of static from the tv just as your eyes meet his, and the two of you rise from your seats at the same time —

Who’s chasing who this time?

There's a scar there on his neck, you know it. He hasn't given you the chance to look at it for longer than a few seconds — Toji is burned into his flesh.

Or rather, a reminder of his weakness is.

Satoru opens his mouth to say something. But he isn’t as easily read as Suguru sometimes.

His emotions are clouded by more complex emotions. When Satoru feels, he feels everything.

He comes in a box with one hundred different user manuals in different languages that no one knows. Suguru was a translator, and you, a scribe, committing him to memory. But even then —

Why won’t you say what you feel, Satoru?

He clenches a fist by his side, like he's holding back, his gaze drops from yours and he walks over to the tv, knocking the top of it a few times to get it to stop glitching out. In between that he whispers, “I brought noodles — somen for Suguru and the cold soba you like…”

Satoru looks tired, he falters in his stride.

Strength, huh?

The air around you feels cold with the weight of his cursed energy, no matter how thin and how much he tries to regulate the flow, you can feel it.

You would know him blind.

How long have you been seeing everything in the world but us?

You’ve never wanted to cry more in your life.

“I’m sure Suguru could eat,” you whisper back, voice a little hoarse. Suguru is probably asleep, or pretending to, like he does sometimes, just so he doesn’t have to see Satoru after missions like this – where he’s trying so hard. So hard to do more, to be more.

And you don’t see it, but you have a feeling Satoru’s heart is breaking in two. Why?

Why are things so different no matter how hard we try?

“Yeah? I have a dvd of that movie we never got to watch somewhere under my bed—”

Maybe.

Everything’s changed.

But maybe, things need to change.

[erzva]

⟡ general Jason todd headcanons and how i view and portray him in my works cw. soft gentle clingy needy desperate touch starved jay

‎

…

i need to start off with certain stereotypes/ways in which he gets potrayed sometimes that i hate with every fibre of my fucking being :

he’s not some aggressive horny flirty asshole jock. he’s grown and too old for that hs bs. like literally he would think of that behavior as annoying, disgusting and stupid

and he’s most definitely (and i can’t stress this enough) not a yandere kidnapper or a stalker or any of that weird bullshit (if you wanna write stuff like that do it but it’s ooc)

he’s literally so caring and sensitive and he would be so gentle and soft. he’d be rather awkward and wouldn’t exactly know how to go about his feelings for someone.

he knows what its like when no one cares and when you grow up in an unstable home or on the streets so he has compassion for outcasts, children, women, non-cishetmen and animals

he’s canonically a nerd. he’s literary and he used to like going to school and learning. ppl always get him and tim mixed up bc tim hated going to school whereas jason wished he wouldn’t have had to drop out

also obviously very much an intersectional feminist ! he’s read all the books abt it and is actively working against his indoctrinated misogyny

he loves all women but he has a soft spot for woc, fat/chubby/muscular women, women with big noses, you name it. just women who don’t fit the stereotypical beauty standard in general

he’s scared and ashamed of how needy and clingy he actually is. he knows himself (unfortunately) and it’s not something that he can just get rid of. it’s pent up from early childhood bc he never got enough love and then from after his death bc of all the shit he had to go through with bruce.

this side of him will haunt him until he dies- again. he can’t change it but he sure as hell won’t embrace it either. it’s a secret he wishes he could take to his final grave. actually- deep down he wishes he would find someone who understands and accepts him the way he is and someone who he can trust to be himself with.

!! aroace-spec , bi (women+)

he is secretly so incredibly desperate.. desperate for love, intimacy, being understood and accepted, desperate to be touched and hugged- loved.

he’s just so touch starved, he doesn’t even know what it feels like not to be. what it feels like to be loved or happy. to be content. how to not feel like something is missing.

he needs someone to take care of him bc he just does a very poor job at that.. also it feels nice being able to just shut off and not having to think about anything

he wants to be hugged and caressed

gentle touches

he loves forehead kisses and headpats or just your hand on his head and in his hair

he wants to kiss you passionately and deeply

prefers making out and hugging/cuddling over sex tbh

all he wants is to lay in bed or sit on the couch hugging someone who truly loves and accepts him and never let go

switch with a sub/bottom lean

i think it goes hand in hand with him having a sub lean but he’s attracted to strong dominant people. preferably someone who’s a switch too

everybody knows this already but he LIVES for praise

praise him and he’s in heaven. you’ll literally get him to do anything if you praise him. want him to give you head? just be a little clingy and loving, telling him how much you love him and how good he always makes you feel and he’s already dropping to his knees taking off your pants.

definitely a service / pleasure dom

if you’re fem/afab :

eating you out is his favorite thing. he goes in like it’s all or nothing (to him it is). no penetration if you didn’t cum at least once from his tongue.

he loves it when you ride his face and use him to make yourself feel good. there’s not a single thing he likes more than seeing you on top of him.

he loves watching you go from humming and gently playing with his hair to breathing heavily and tugging on his hair- to whining, moaning and grunting while grinding your pussy into his face deeper and faster to finally reach your high

also loves it when you ride his dick. being able to relax a little and just look up at you feeling good because of him makes him moan so much

he’ll also pull you down a lot when you’re riding him just to hug you and hold you close and to hear you breathing and moaning into his ear

he’ll thrust up from under you as fast as he can just to catch you off guard and see your face in pure bliss. he loves it when he makes you cum in this position.

he also loves missionary and the mating press

you know he’s close when he starts holding you close and mumbling/whining your name over and over again

if you’re male/amab :

he loves giving you head and eating your ass and wants you to use him. it really gets him going. it’s bc of his incredibly patent inferiority complex and feeling like he’s a good for nothing piece of shit

he also likes being the one that penetrantes you though. he’ll start begging for praise even though he’s the one topping saying things like “tell me i’m a good boy, tell me i’m your good boy.” “tell me how good i make you feel” “please just tell me i’m doing a good job.” “wanna make you feel good.” all while his big tall frame is hovering above you and ramming into you

a whimperer. he whines and moans a lot, shamelessly. he grunts and groans too. especially when he’s a little bit too frustrated or stressed. and he shamelessly breathes heavily during sex. any noise that he can make will escape his lips. all in all he’s just incredibly vocal and he doesn’t care if people can hear.

he really likes handjobs. preferably with you sitting in front of him so he can look up at you but he also likes it when you’re sitting behind him and you say things in his ear while kissing his neck or cheek and sucking on his earlobe

but he especially loves it when you’re sucking him off and fingering his ass at the same time. add a little praise and you’ll have him whining, whimpering and even crying. he’ll be a mess

he often gets teary-eyed during sex because of how sensitive he is. and i mean both his body and his feelings.

he wants and needs someone who'd accept him for who he is and wouldn't wanna change him. someone who shares the same morals as him and doesn't have a problem with him being morally grey.

he would want someone he doesn’t have to explain everything to. he knows it’s toxic and not really fair but he hates having to put his thoughts into words. he’s not really good at it.

so he needs someone who’s observant and pays attention to details. maybe even someone who can read body language. just so he doesn’t have to go through the uncomfortable experience of having to say that he’s needy and broken out loud.

he wants someone to pay attention to him and figure him out so well that he doesn’t have to ask for things and you instead know what he wants and needs at certain times and just give it to him

he gets pissed and sighs while rolling his eyes when he’s showing clear signs of what he wants and you’re not picking up on it.

it took great cruelty to make him this gentle. but to an extent he’s grateful for it because he now knows exactly why it’s so important to treat people kindly and gently.

…

[ovaruling]

i genuinely dont care abt the fight for men to be gnc bc so much of it still depends on femininity, a construct invented BY MEN to oppress women and limit us in every conceivable way—physiologically, financially, socially, psychologically. so much of it still depends on aesthetics, on visuals, on fashion, on appearance, on affectations and mannerisms and perceptions lifted (and often exaggerated) from usually the (male!!!!) media’s idea of the “well-performed woman.” it still depends on being perceived with some degree of “object” in mind. there is always still an aspect of submission or limitation in mind whenever and wherever Femininity is distinctly championed.

whereas—the fight for women to be gnc is literally the opposite. it’s the fight for us to just be. to not have to add anything where expected—makeup, jewelry, high heels, long nails, long hair, large breasts, multistep skincare routines, varying degrees of cosmetic procedures—or subtract it where society desires the subtraction—our body hair, our comfortable clothing, our attitudes, our skills, our strength, our fat stores, our appetites, our intelligence, our boundaries. it’s the fight for us to not have to drastically change our bodies or our posture/the way we sit or the pitches of our voices or even just down to the volume and pattern of our laughs. it’s the fight to exist as we are. to not have to sacrifice time, money, health, energy, effort, and agency in the expectation that we will obligingly wear our shackles and tell ourselves it looks hot idk. it’s the fight to not have to be our own obsessive compulsive voyeurs solely in order to perfect the inevitable future experience of being voyeured by others.

basically i just literally dont care abt men who think they are gods gift to rebellious activism by wearing something from the womens section of the store lol like i will not be drinking in encouragement of more femininity in any form on either sex. i care abt women being treated as people when they like. dare to interview for jobs without makeup

[pha55ed]

Everything I Know Abt Love || JMM21

type :: fluff tw/cw :: dumbass painfully oblivious!reader (their so me-coded) summary :: reader has been crushing on pepe since they were children, but is trying to get over their crush with a different driver. but that's impossible because it's fucking josep maria marti.

request :: can you write smth with pepe marti :D was thinkin something along the lines of the song “everything i know about love” by laufey. heavy mutual pining with an eventual confession and pure fluff <3 ur page is so nice and ur writing is so so so good 🫶 (AHH thank you so much! <3 you're so sweet!)

liked by jakcrawford, christianmansell, sebastianmontoya, and 82,000 others

yourusername : Alexa, play So American by Olivia Rodrigo

yourbestfriend : YOU GOT ICECREAM WITHOUT ME???

yourbestfriend : wait a minute... 🤨

yourbestfriend : IS THAT A MAN....???

yourbestfriend : IS THAT P...?

yourbestfriend : Noooo girl i need to update you so bad

jakcrawford : Your flavor looks like charcoal dust LMAO

yourusername : it looked purple under the store's lighting 😭😭

christianmansell : where's my thank you???

sebastianmontoya : what... 😀

pepemarti : same... 😀 sebastianmontoya : im coming over christianmansell : wait why??? sebastianmontoya : YOU CAUSED THIS YOU IDIOT

The date with Jak was sweet, almost perfect. He picked you up and called you beautiful, gifting you flowers. The entire time he was respectful, listening to you, and making you laugh. He was cute too, curly brown hair and an adorable smile. Everything should led to you liking him. Yet you couldn't.

The entire time you were still stuck on Pepe. Thinking about how Pepe would have gotten you flowers, but in your favorite color. How Pepe's hair was much softer despite being shorter. Not to mention that Pepe's smile is your favorite thing ever. It's not Jak's fault, he was lovely in every way possible. But you just couldn't imagine loving anyone else beside Pepe.

You grew up with Pepe, meeting at 11 year olds from watching your brother in karting. The rest is history. You met his friends and quickly formed a quad, with Pepe, you, Sebastian, and Christian. Throughout your entire childhood, you had a fat crush on him. But you could never tell if he liked you back or not.

But to Chris and Sebastian, it was painful to watch you both. They could tell that you both liked each other, maybe even loved each other. But you both were so awkward with each other that it seemed like you were friend-zoning each other.

Like for example, Chris and Sebastian tried to set you up both up by making a fake hangout. They planned a whole day of going to the beach and eating dinner, only for them both to get "sick" last minute. So it was just you and Pepe alone for the whole day, going to the beach and a fancy dinner.

Yet you guys still managed to turn one of the most romantic scenes into the most goofy and awkward. Collecting seashells, seeing who can hold their breathe longer underwater, and making a mess at dinner like you two were just clumsy and awkward best friends. When in reality, both of you were on the verge of a heart attack every time you accidentally touched.

So now you were stuck, alone in your room. Torn between either moving on or sticking with Pepe.

You barely had any time to think to yourself, because the very next day you were forced to attend the boys' Racing Sponsor party. Although you never liked going, it was fun with your friends and the food was always amazing. The only major cons was that the party was filled with business people trying to network and get new sponsors, but they usually left you alone once you just said you were a friend of the drivers.

So now instead of being alone in your room, with your thoughts eating away at your brain - you were alone at the large dining table. Seb promised to stay by your side, but he was pulled away by his engineers to try and talk to a fancy gasoline company so they could sponsor him. Chris also promised to stay besides you, but he was also forced away to go to a special engineering company. Pepe and Jak were also busy doing a ton of interviews and connections, they were very sought after.

You sighed, unable to help but just sit in your boredom as you picked at your food. Now you were wishing that those annoying business men would try to talk to you again just so you have something to do. Using your phone wasn't an option either, 1. because it's rude to do and 2. because your dress didn't have pockets so you stupidly gave it to Seb to hold onto.

But just as you were about to count the petals dead floral centerpiece in front of you, Jak sat next to you. Fuck, you thought.

"Hey!" He said, wearing a black tux just like everyone else in the room. "You look so bored haha"

His small chuckle was charming and cute, he was so "boy-next-door" coded. Jak's curls were a bit more defined and his suit had almost no imperfections on it. He obviously paid deep attention to his suit. You watched as he started to fiddle with his tie slightly as he sat next to you. It was clear he was a bit nervous around you, trying to put up a good first impression still.

"I can't lie, I am a bit bored." You say with a smile at his attentive nature. "I'm just waiting for it to be over so we can all go out and play games at Chris's house."

"We?" He asks, quoting you before connecting the dots as to who 'we' was. "Oh! You, Pepe, Chris, and Seb, right?" Jak tilts his head slightly, like a dog.

You simply nod, taking a mental note of how much of Jak resembles a golden doodle. One of the cute golden doodles, not the ones' with ugly human eyes. You wanted so badly to like him. It wasn't like you weren't aware of how cute and sweet he was. Yet your brain just wouldn't allow yourself to feel a spark between you two.

"Well uh, would it be okay if I joined?" Jak asked nervously, looking in your eyes.

Before you could answer, you felt a hand on your shoulder. Although you hated how embarrassing it was to admit, you could already tell who was touching you just by the fingertips and vein on the back of the hand: Pepe Marti.

"NnnnooOOO!" Pepe said, making you want to laugh but you knew it would hurt Jak's feelings. It was clear he had quite a few drinks, most likely due to the businessmen always pressuring the drivers to have a few shots. Mainly so they could take advantage of their drunken state and get them to sign any deal they wanted.

"Oh uh..." Jak sat their awkwardly, looking at how close Pepe's body was to yours despite him hovering above your chair. "Hi Pepe,,,"

"Hi JAK!!!" Pepe said, quite loudly, "Or should I say JAK - ASS!!! Hahaha,,, ha..."

Pepe's entire fucking head and neck turned to you, trying to see if you laughed at his awful joke. When he sees that you didn't laugh, his smile instantly died. You could tell that he was cringing at himself.

You knew you needed to get Pepe out of the room, before he does anything stupid. So you quietly excused yourself from Jak, apologizing for Pepe's lame joke. Although Pepe was perfectly able to walk over to you and Jak, all of the sudden he began to act as if he's never walked in his life. So he clung onto your waist, using that as support while you both exited the party.

It didn't make much sense for him to hold your waist for support. Holding onto your shoulders or even your head would make much more sense - but he insisted on holding your waist. But you weren't going to complain when he hand perfectly fitted there. And you definitely weren't going to complain when he was pulling you closer to his body on instinct, as if he was a magnet attracted to you.

You struggled to get his tall body into your small car. But you did it. Now you had to struggle with getting the buckle on him. Not that he's fat, far from it, he's quite lanky and lean. The struggle came from the fact that Pepe was insisting that he should drive. That the man should always drive the woman home. He even drunkenly giggled and said, "If I driveee, then we couldd kiss at red lightssss!"

He said that while looking up at you with a shit eating grin. As if he was trying to see if you would blush at his joke, which you did. And as if his cute giggle and smile weren't enough, he did a stupid little fist bump in the air after making you giggle, as if it was an accomplishment. He has never ever been this flirty with you, making you unsure of how to handle him.

You can't help but laugh even more at his stupid acts. And from your laughter, Pepe finally sat still for once. He was stuck in his seat, staring at you, completely star struck. His big dark eyes starring up at you while you giggled, he looked as if he's seen the Northern lights. His lips were slightly parted, mainly because he was tired from fighting you away from buckling him, but also because his breathe was genuinely taken away from his lungs.

And that's when you felt something click in you.

At that exact moment, when Pepe was looking up at you with big puppy eyes and kissable kips - you realized that you would never ever be able to replace Pepe. You would never be able to settle and date Jak just to move on from Pepe. Because in one single moment of Pepe barely saying anything, he made you feel more cherished than Jak did within your entire day. Because in one single moment of Pepe's eyes staring in yours, you felt your heart pound faster than it ever did when Jak gently held your hand at night.

You knew you needed to tell Jak soon. Although you knew that you and Pepe weren't an item yet, you were determined to get him to be yours. And for the first time within almost a decade - you felt as if you had a chance with him.

As you dragged Pepe behind you, you safely managed to get him up the stairs and into his apartment. It was a cozy place, with tan and beige furniture decorating the place. There were photos hung up of his friends and family, shelves filled with comic books and gifts from fans. It felt warm, homey despite it not being your home.

Due to Pepe's strong grip on you, as if he was glued to you, you were forced to throw him roughly onto his couch. You sighed out of relief from finally getting him to settle down. You were beat, ready to go sleep asap. Meanwhile Pepe was the exact opposite. He was still giggling and giddy despite there being nothing funny happening.

His smile was permanently on his face, but you weren't complaining. As you slumped down next to him, you could still smell the alcohol in his breathe. He lazily threw his hand on your thigh, looking at you before saying "You're so farrr".

The lazy grip he had on your thigh quickly turned into an overpowering grip, as he easily pulled you all the way close to him. Even though he got what he wanted, you being right beside him, his hand didn't leave your thigh. You were left in shock, never ever seeing this side of him. He's been drunk around you before, but never this drunk. You're lost on why he felt the need to get so drunk today, especially when he knew being drunk was a huge no-no at sponsor parties.

When Pepe saw your eyes widen, he instantly copied your expression. His hand left your thigh in a flash and he scooted away from you by a foot. "I'm sorry, did you not like that???" He asked, his words not slurring as much.

"No no, it's okay." You said as you looked at him, his shoulders relaxing at your words. You wish you could say the same, your shoulders were killing you now from having to bring Pepe up a whole flight of stairs.

Rolling your shoulders didn't help the ache, making you slightly wince at the soreness. Pepe, despite still being drunk, could tell it was because of him. He looked guilty, scooting a bit closer to you.

"I'm sorry," He said softly, the most gentle you've heard him all night. "I shou' have gone home on my own."

You shook your head, "Definitelyyy not, you would have crashed your car into a family of five or something."

"Better than hurting you," He said almost in a whisper. You watched his face scrunch up. He let out a light burp and threw his head back onto the couch. "God I feel awful already."

On instinct, you were about to get off the couch and get him some pain medication. But Pepe's arm shot out, blocking you from getting up.

"Not physically." He says, "But,,, mentally."

You tilt your head slightly, confused at what he meant. He looked into your eyes, able to tell that you had zero clue at all what he meant. A sigh left his lips, as if he was tired despite him being the one that got dragged up a flight of stairs and a ride home.

"I'm sure you'll feel awful physically soon." You say, "But why do you feel hurt, mentally?"

"I just," Pepe's voice was stuck, unsure of how to word himself. He let out a few murmurs but it wasn't actual words. You weren't sure if it was the alcohol making him unable to speak or if Pepe just didn't know how to word what he was thinking. You were assume it was both.

He knew he wouldn't be able to outright state what he was feeling, so instead he opted for questions. "(Y/N), be honest with me." You nodded, shifting in your seat to face him. His tone sounded serious. "How do you feel about Jak?"

You assume he must have felt awful mentally for his rude jokes to Jak. "Oh, Jak is cool. If you're worried about your joke to him, I'm sure he'll just brush it off."

"Are you close now?" Pepe asks, completely ignoring your answer to his question. "After that date you guys had, seemed like fun." He says, his eyes not looking at yours. As if he was too scared to make eye contact with you.

"Um, it was fun. But I mean, I didn't feel a spark or anything-"

"Don't lie."

You were frozen, unsure of what to say. "I'm not lying...?"

"I see how you laugh at his jokes, how he looks at you, how you smile at him." Pepe says slowly, "Do you think you like him?"

His tone was so serious that you were caught off guard. But you knew the answer to his question now, thankfully you realized it this night. "No, I think we're just gonna be friends. He seems super sweet and nice, but not for me-"

"Then who is for you?" Pepe asks, this time looking at you. There was no smile on his face, instead a look of investigation. A look that seemed as if he was trying to put a mask on, to protect his feelings from getting hurt.

You knew the answer to this question to. But you weren't able to say. All you were able to do was stare into Pepe's eyes, watching them soften as he looked at you. You swallowed and broke the eye contact, feeling too intimate to keep staring into his dark eyes.

While you were looking away, Pepe scooted back close to you. Your knees touching. Although your head was still turned away, too flustered to look at him and unwilling to give him an answer. Pepe was staring right at you, his entire torso turned towards you to examine your whole body and features.

You didn't want to turn your head around and face him. You could tell that if you did, your faces would be only a few inches away from each other. Close enough to make your breathes touch each other faces. Although you were trying to look away from him, his hand gently reached for your face. There was no pressure in his grip, instead it was lightly guiding your head to face him.

Now your faces were close, eyes locked in, and bodies only a few inches apart. You looked at him, holding your breathe in fear that it stank from eating. His eyes and face were no longer tense, it was soft and looked as if he was pleaded. It looked as if he about to beg you for something, which he did:

"Please, please say it's me." He said in a whisper.

[lakesbian]

Hi, I just want to clarify that I don't mean this as an accusation but as an honest question; but when you and others on your posts are talking about narrative bigotry in Worm you talk about the racism and homophobia (which I agree with) but you also talk about fatphobia/fat characters being universally handled poorly, and I would love a breakdown as to why this is. With regards to Piggot when she was initially introduced I was thinking from how the heroes thought about her in their POV chapters that she was going to be the fatphobic stereotype of "soft and uncool but mean/unpleasant, disgusting fat civilian who doesn't know real courage and heroism like the thin, attractive heroes", and was pleasantly surprised when she got a lot more nuance than that, and also turned out to be very courageous and militaristic in contrast to the stereotype of "fat = cowardly and doesn't know real survival", with her flaws more lying in how she goes too far in that direction. In general the problem I typically see with how I see fat characters represented isn't just that they have flaws, but that they are never allowed to be "cool". They might be laughably dumb or they might be smart, but in a "loser nerd" way, never in a "clever scheming competent leader" kind of way. If they are negative/mean/evil characters, the emphasis is always on their venal, base qualities like gluttony, greed, and just being a jerk, they are never an "evil is cool" character with flaws like pride or a philosophy that is thoughtful and intended well but goes too far. So in that respect I thought Piggot was well-written, well besides. being literally named Piggot which is cringe but I could excuse as setting up the expectation of a stereotype to later support. And the only other character I remember being described as fat, Gregor the Snail, I have no memory of being any kind of problematic stereotype, though I don't remember him and his chapter that well either. So could you explain why Worm writes fat people badly/fatphobically?

this took way too long to answer because it's like. Well it's a simple answer but also this is a very long ask. so there's more to unpack. the short answer is just that literally, like, virtually 99.99% of the times a fat character or someone being fat is mentioned in literally any wildbow novel it's with palpable disgust. regardless of who the narrator is. it's obvious even with taylor but pact really hammers this home because blake is characterized in a way that indicates he should never be randomly judging someone's weight or appearance and he's still constantly written as observing whether or not someone is "fat." and it's in italics, like it's a slur or some grievous insult. like we're not even at the point of being able to analyze how wildbow writes specific fat characters here due to there are almost none of them and anytime fatness is mentioned it's in the context of it being stated in the same tone as if the narrator was observing someone picking their nose and eating it. like the loathing is Palpable. pay attention to how the phrases "fat" or "obese" or "morbidly obese" are used the next time you're reading a wildbow novel. you'll see what i mean.

as for the specific characters it's like. i think this post has everything icould think to say about gregor already in it, which as you will see is not very strongly opinionated. i mention piggot in it also. i don't remember enough abt either to just wax abt them at length but fundamentally it's that there's nothing particularly Strongly Good about either of them--not doing the "soft lazy uncool glutton" schtick is, like, bare minimum, and neither of them are very far above the bare minimum, and they're in a story that consistently does infinitely less than the bare minimum. there's gonna need to be more than a fat character Having Characterization before we can say that worm isn't wildly fatphobic

[taeiris]

okay guys here’s my crazy unsupported st5 theory that is mostly just me projecting my need for madwheeler bonding and drama and angst also byler duh

disclaimers: i never make theories so this is extremely messy probably, i know jack dookie abt writing shows i think of this as my own little version of what i would think would be very cool to happen, if this has loop holes dont ask me anything bc idk either

OKAY LETS GET ON IT

so first things first here is what i am taking into consideration for the theory to happen:

• mike pov, self reflection and introspection (he is gay and in love with will byers okay)

• madwheeler bonding, theyre both complex n misunderstood

• the upside down isnt just one dimension, i came up with this bc of how different the ud looks now

compared to when henry arrived.

to me theres like an umbrella dimension (yellow one) and others under it (blue one/hawkins ud, the void, etc)

this is also lowkey supported by the silly boobie diagram the writers posted abt

OKAY PREPARE FOR THE WORD VOMIT

in this silly theory of mine, a new dimension variant of the ud will be revealed in season 5, serving as a parallel to the void. this is where max is

OKAY another thing is this is also heavily based on those “leaks” that were going around twitter (for me at least) earlier when the strike first started. i remember a few of them claiming that we would get a deeper insight into mike and his own things, so this is my interpretation

this would serve as another vanishing, not really bc its shorter, but this time mike will be getting stuck in this other dimension, eventually finding max BOOM madwheeler serve

i mean look at them. the potential is insane

ANYWAYS

this dimension is like a combo of all the other ones, picture it like the hawkins ud, with the void’s wet floor maybe

lets go back to the fact max is here, this is her coma nightmare, its like this purgatory dimension vecna put her soul in

in this dimension inhabit your ghosts

this overwhelming, haunting, tormenting realm in your mind where you are constantly confronting all your bad memories, maybe this is kind of how vecna keeps max under his grasp, no happy memories allowed

okay so, mike gets there. how? when? i dont fucking know this is honestly just word vomit fanfiction to me

at first hes confused, scared but mostly confused, picture him screaming for wills name (the parallels) at first it’s empty and eerily quiet, but as he accepts it, the ghosts start coming in.

he gets BOMBARDED with these bad memories, some of them he cant even remember because come on, bro is always neglecting his internalized feelings/monologue in fear of what they say about him

this is where we get his pov on the whole will and eleven situation, amongst other things (like the way he’s constantly stressed thinking about the safety of the people he loves)

for a moment we see him break, bc these ghosts are LOUD and MANY

but it stops

max is here, she’s like “MIKE?”

“MAX?”

shes been here for a fat minute, she knows how to handle these ghosts in fact shes been going thru them one by one ever since, because shes done hiding. and she suspects that the only way to get out is by confronting them.

max saves mike from his ghosts, explains that this place is seemingly a purgatory with levels of memories and ghosts to overcome

this is how we get our madwheeler bonding we so graciously need, as they are part of eachother ghosts since theyre so similar it makes the other mad

this is how our complex misunderstood characters are broken down, explained to the audience, while also discovering the mystery that is this new dimension where at the finish line they might just figure out how to defeat vecna.

because they will

after overcoming the ghosts they find the place that vecna didnt think they would reach as he was so sure they would break and collapse on their own madness

think of it as how el found the source in season 3

or how max found vecnas lair after running away in dear billy

except this place is vecnas actual mind, they can see hear and feel what vecna is thinking, his plans and everything

mike wonders how will feels being able to feel this all the time

will feels this all the time

will is always connected to this piece of vecnas mind, to this source

he can always hear vecna

until he suddenly hears max… and mike and theyre calling for help

theyve figured out key clues on how to defeat vecna, and they have an idea on how to get out. this is how will’s connection comes in handy

mind walkie-talkie

maybe thats what this theory should be called, idk

-

so thats how we get our byler confirmation, madwheeler bonding like never before, mike focus, and the key to defeat vecna

at least in my head

i know this was messy and all over the place but it was very fun to explain and drop all my thoughts ive been vomiting on the gc for months now

let me know what you think, what you would add, if theres anything you think will support this theory?

its all just a theory, for fun! pls keep that in mind

thank you if you’ve read this far🫶

[madeofcigarettes]

I wanna share this cause i dont seem people talking about pretty much fully recovering and then relapsing again

So when i was in full deep into my eating disorder as much of you are which you know what it looks like i was obviously looking back at it really miserable just thinking about food 24/7, having nightmares about food, insomnia, loosing friendships and things like that, that are always the hardest part about having an ed, but then i just started recovering not even because i waned to, but because i just couldn’t keep doing it anymore, which makes me feel kinda invalidated abt my eating disorder, but almost every day of those 6 months where i had this extreme hunger that made me feel like a pig then getting to a point where i could eat anything without looking at the calories, or tracking my daily intake and when i had something that showed the calories in the package just turning it around and avoiding it, not weighting myself, when i was feeling kinda better, there wasnt a day i didn’t miss ana, seeing how much weight i gained (went from 108 to 135 in the span of abt 3 month) i was so miserable too and i hate looking at myself, i hate not being able to wear cute outfits, i hate feeling like i have no purpose, no reason to get out of bed, didnt even wanna go out cause of how much i hate my body, and in those moments is when i missed ana the most. I really feel like i either need to pick being miserable but loving how i look, or being free and hating how i look and thats the hardest part because now i dont feel like i can get myself to loose weight in a healthy way cause i know whats the quicker route and i feel like theres never gonna be any recovering.

Also i just started going to the gym again and i eat what i like and what i crave but i only eat once a day and i dont eat like really big portions, and i feel like this could be a better route for me, im liking it so far but ik its gonna get progressively worse even tho i wanna loose the weight in maybe a healthier way this time, i just know i dont wanna be fat anymore and you guys always give me the motivation that i need but idk well see how it goes.

[mychlapci]

I feel like it’s a crime that there is next to nobody talking abt TFA Bulkhead getting the pounding he deserves. He seems like the type to be a virgin probably since no Autobot wanted to fuck him. He deserves to be absolutely ravaged by either his teammates or by a Decepticon like Blitzwing

Even better if it’s Megatron and he gets turned into a ditzy whore for Decepticon spike lol

EXACTLY. poor Bulkhead, still a virgin when the 'Cons get a hold of him... They don't understand why, after all, a big, heavy bot is very attractive to decepticons. Megatron absolutely takes a turn at that valve, shows the poor little autobot how good a spiking can feel...

We gotta sluttify Bulkhead. Make him a pretty, fat whore for decepticon spike. Juicy valve always out, nothing but transfluid on his mind, he enjoys being ravaged and pleasured and touched. And he deserves it <3

[reyalvr]

oki i have a req now !! can u make a fic of #18 and #19 with tsu'tey and reader (i have a big fat crush on him) where they're on a date night laying down somewhere just cuddling and enjoying the moment. while cuddling, reader confesses that they've dreamt of having a family before, meeting and being mated with tsu'tey and just indulging with all the love they have at that moment but then also shares to him that they're scared that it'll get taken away from them soon and that sometimes it feels too good to be true (either bec of sky people or for other reasons). hehe its straight up fluff with a hint of angst but you can add more details abt their family status like are they just newly mated or are they already established for n years with kids or with their standings in the clan (olo'eyktan/tsakarem) and etc.

ps. specifically wanted #18 cause i get lucid and prophetic dreams too and they happen way too often for my liking -🐬

SEE YOU AGAIN.

୨⎯ in which feelings and thoughts are confessed. ⎯୧

genre┊ fluff, slight angst

pairing┊tsu’tey x fem-omatikaya!reader, tsu’tey x tskaha-mo’at’ite!reader 

wordcount┊2.4k

warnings┊ slight movie spoilers

author’s note┊ AHHHHH i love this request sm it’s so cute !! as always, feel free to listen to the song recs i added since these are the songs i listened to while writing this teehee … simon franglen put crack in ‘happiness is simple’ istg 

song recs ┊ see you again, happiness is simple.

Tsu’tey had many sides to him; fierce, strict, and even cold. But there was a side to him that was unknown to most of the clan. It was the side that had captured your heart, the side that had made you so irrevocably in love with him. 

Gentle. 

You watched from afar as Tsu’tey played with the children by the river, their giggles and laughter filling the forest each time he splashed them. Most knew him as a ruthless warrior of the Omatikaya, even more so after the recent destruction of the sky people. He was recognized as one of the finest hunters your clan had seen in years, his skills and talents surpassing most of the men his age. 

But you knew him as him; kind and patient Tsu’tey. Even in your younger years, he was always softer with you – like he had some built-in switch in him everytime he interacted with you. Needless to say, the match between the two of you was fate. 

Tsu’tey’s voice roared as he found two of the kids hiding behind the rocks, each one encircled by one of his arms as he carried them. They laughed even harder as he spun them around, the other kids coming up to him with fake attacks. 

“Now!” One of the girls yelled to the group as the sounds of little feet splashed loudly towards his direction. 

“What is this! Have I been ambushed?” He said, a mocked expression of surprise painting his face. 

Though your husband was a mighty warrior, not even he would be able to withstand the strength of energized children. He fell back into the water, the kids in his grasp landing on top of him as the other children continued to surround him. You couldn’t help but laugh along with them as you finally made your way to them. 

“Oel ra’un! You have bested me, you sly hunters!” He said in feigned desperation. 

The children yelled in victory as he moved to sit up properly, his smile gracing his features. He ruffled one of their heads, the small child giggling as he did so. The girl who had led the ambush spotted you then, her eyes lighting up as soon as she saw you.

“[Y/N], [Y/N]! Look, we have defeated the river demon of the forest!” She exclaimed, her fist pumping up as she continued to wield her makeshift blade. 

Tsu’tey turned slightly, clearly surprised to see you here. He was not upset, though, as you were already aware of these excursions he had with the village children. He smiled even wider, glad to have your lively aura grace the younglings. 

“I see, ma’evi.” You said, stroking your head as you looked down at your defeated mate. “How very noble of you, the village is safe!” 

Tsu’tey only stared at you as you spoke, his smile never faltering. You held your hand out, pulling him up out of the water. Once he was stable, he pecked you quickly on your temple as his hands came up to stroke your back. The children cringed at his affection, and you only laughed. 

“It is getting late, ma’eveng.” Tsu’tey paused to let go of you momentarily, crouching down to be level with the little ones. “You must return to the village before Tsahik scolds me.” 

Their groans of protests and pleading whines made your heart melt; you were always swayed by children and the light they brought to the harsh realities of life. You almost pleaded with them, almost begged Tsu’tey as well if they could play a little longer.  

But you knew he was right, the children needed to be back soon before it got too dark. The forest was home to many beautiful things, but it was also home to luring dangers. They all looked up at you, their eyes wide with childlike wonder. You only nodded in agreement with Tsu’tey’s orders, and they finally gave in once they realized they wouldn’t be able to persuade you. 

You waved them off as they started making their way back, their disappointment fizzling away as quickly as it came. You felt Tsu’tey grab you by your waist then, a more intimate gesture now that the kids were gone. You smiled at him, your ears pinning back as you made yourself comfortable in his grasp. 

“I didn’t know you were coming, yawne.” He said, stroking stray hairs away from your face. “I have a persona to live up to, you know.” 

“Persona of what? Being the river demon?” You teased, and he nudged you lightly. 

“You know what I mean.” He said with a knowing tone. “I cannot let you have such leverage over me, I am the Olo’eyktan-in-waiting!”

You laughed at him as you moved to place your hands on his shoulders. He was as dashing as always, even more so in the warm light. 

“The children love you, that is not leverage.” You replied seriously, though you knew he was only joking. “It is admiration.” 

He only hummed before he closed the gap between the both of you. His lips were so plush, so soft. It felt like heaven every time he kissed you. His passion engulfed you fully, and your hands came up to cup his face as he moved to wrap his arms around your lower back. When you finally pulled away he pouted, and you stroked his bottom lip with a smile. 

“Come,” You said as you stepped back, arm outstretched for him to take your hand. “I want to fly tonight.”

Flying on your own was always an exciting feeling, but flying with your mate was something entirely else. It was an experience that you wished upon everyone. The sky people would call it love, but it was more than that. Txasunu was what best described it; to do something you enjoyed tremendously with the person you loved greatly. 

Your laughter filled the night sky as you sent Tsu’tey and his banshee a gust of wind, flying under him to avoid his own retaliation. You sped forward, sending him yet another blow. 

“Skxawng!” He yelled, though you knew he meant it lovingly. 

You looked back at him through your visor, your fangs showing as you beamed brightly. You swerved upwards then, flying over him as you were suspended upside down. Tsu’tey had never gotten used to your skill as a rider, and he figured he never would. Amazing would not even begin to describe you; you were brilliant. 

He laughed as he finally moved to be level with you, the both of you spinning around each other before dipping back down to fly over the hanging vines that connected the floating mountains. You yelled out into the air as you both made it over the rocks, your laughter never fading. 

His hand gestured for you to follow him as he yipped, and you quickly flew to the direction he had pointed to. He was ahead of you now, navigating the both of you up to one of the grass plains that grew atop the mountains. He landed swiftly, and you followed soon after. 

He held you by your waist as you hopped down, his grip secure so as to not let you slip. You thanked him quickly before removing your visor. You could see clearly now, your eyes adjusting to the darkness of your surroundings. The grass glowed as you stepped on it, illuminating your movements. 

“That never gets old,” You said, spinning out of his hold. “How is it that my father chose you as Olo’eyktan-in-waiting when you can’t even beat me in flying?”

“Because Eywa has blessed you with abilities so strong that it leaves you unbalanced.” He smirked at you, grabbing your arm to pull you close to him once more. “Your father chose me to balance you out.” 

You smiled at him before he pulled you down to rest, his back leaning against one of the smoother rocks. You sat in between his legs, your back pressed up against his broad chest. He let out a heavy sigh once you were comfortable, wrapping his arms around you. Your hand went up to hold one of his arms, your thumb tracing small shapes on his skin. 

“Now this,” He breathed out. “This never gets old.”

You laughed lightly as he nuzzled your neck, his lips pecking your shoulder. 

“You are awfully affectionate today,” You paused to tilt your head up to him. “Not that I am complaining, though.”

He chuckled lightly against your shoulder, still peppering kisses along your skin. Your heart was happy in this moment, the solace of being safe in your mate’s arms quelling your tensenes away. You leaned further against him, closing your eyes as you matched his breathing. 

Though you were recently mated, your bond with Tsu’tey had stretched back all the way to when you were still young. He was never good with expressing his feelings – his real feelings. You were aware of the expectations his parents had set for him, and you always did your best to relieve him of the weight of it all. 

He did the same for you, just not outright. But anyone who knew him knew that he only had eyes for you, and that he would quite literally go to hell if it meant that you would be safe. You were grateful for him, grateful to the Great Mother for allowing you to meet someone who cared for you as much as you cared for them, if not, even more. 

Now that you were one with him, you felt it was your duty to make sure he was free from shame, free from the torment of never being good enough. None of it mattered to you anyway, in your eyes he would always be perfect. You kissed the inside of his forearm, right on his pulse. 

And while your efforts seemed to have worked to keep him steady, the suppressed concerns within your own heart had started to take over your mind once again. 

“Tsu’tey?” You whispered. 

“Hm?” He replied, his head now resting atop yours. 

“Can I tell you something?” You looked up at him, watching him as he still kept his eyes closed. 

“Anything, yawne.” He whispered back.

“I dreamt of this once.” You said softly, your hands still holding onto his arms. “Dreamt of being with you.” 

He looked at you now, confused. “Why would you have to dream? Surely you could not have doubted my promises to you-”

“It is not that, ‘Tey,” You reassured, turning your body to face him fully. He did not let go of you, only adjusting his arms to rest on your lower back. “It’s just- I was afraid. And I still am, sometimes.”

“What is it that troubles you?” His confusion was now replaced with concern. “Tell me and I will do everything in my power to stop whatever it is.”

“I believe it won’t be that simple, yawne.” You said as you shook your head slightly. “My fears concern the sky people.” 

He hissed at the mention of the demons, infuriated by the fact that they have been clouding your thoughts. You sat upright then, grabbing his hands to place them on your lap. His lips had formed a slight frown, his expression troubled by your worries. 

“This fear has been brewing inside of me for so long, Tsu’tey.” You said, your tail laying flat as you confessed your feelings. “The day I lost Sylwanin, my baby sister, I was changed. I thought I was going to lose everyone to the sky people – I thought I was going to lose you.”

He sighed as he moved to hold your face, his eyes looking deep into yours. You had no tears in your eyes, only a pensive look as you continued to tell him your thoughts. 

“I pushed these fears away by dreaming, dreaming of what life would be like without the sky people – without all this tragedy.” You said, your hand coming up to grasp his wrist. “I dreamed of a lifetime of happiness with you, dreamed of having our own family one day.” 

“[Y/N], please hear my words as I say this,” His expression softened. “You do not need to dream, because I am here. I promised your father that my sole purpose to the Great Mother is to make sure you remain happy, remain safe.” 

Your heart swelled, a wave of relief washing over your senses. You knew deep down that it was pointless to worry about such things, but still it troubled you. Nobody could ever be sure of what the future held, not even your own mother. The will of Eywa was absolute, and it could be cruel just as much as it could be divine. 

But you didn’t linger on your worries for much longer, finally smiling once again. You leaned forward to kiss him, relishing in his comfort. He was gentle with you, his hands moving to rub your back as you held his face closer to you. The scent of the forest still lingered on him, fresh and earthy. 

You pulled away to rest on his chest, one of his hands coming up to caress your head. You heard his heartbeat then, steady and strong. You laid a hand directly on top of his heart, and he held it as you soothed yourself of any more troubling thoughts. 

“So,” He said, breaking the peaceful silence. “A family, you say?” 

You smacked him lightly as you laughed, your spirits lifted from the dull emotions you had been feeling only a moment ago. 

“Yes, a family.” You said as you stared up at him, a smile gracing your lips once again. “Two children, if we are lucky.”

“Oh, we most certainly are.” He replied almost immediately. “Our first born will be a strong Olo’eyktan, I am sure of it.”

“Or Olo’eykte.” You added, already firm on your decision of succession. 

He hummed, smiling as he did so. “Of course. A girl would be a fierce leader – just like her mother.”

“And a boy would be a mighty warrior.” You said, still beaming up at him. “Just like his father.”

He held you closer, and you felt content – you felt at home. You yawned then, your body starting to succumb to your tiredness. He rubbed circles on your hand as he lulled you to rest with a melodic tune; his songcord. 

“Sleep, yawne.” He said quietly, his own fatigue starting to take a toll on him as well. 

You felt yourself smile once more before you finally drifted off, his voice the last thing you heard before falling into a restful slumber.

“I am here.”

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