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#it's just frustrating to see people not get it
faetreides · 1 day
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🎾 - #LOVE ON THE FLOOR !!
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cw: unrealistic public sex on a tennis court 💀 (it’s nighttime and no one else is there), college era, afab reader, gross friends to lovers, strip tennis, soft dom!art x inexperienced!reader, vaginal fingering + titfucking + brief analingus (afab reader receiving), implied (soft) obsession & toxicity like art would marry you tomorrow, teasing (towards reader), nipple sucking (m receiving), art putting in overtime to hit on oblivious!reader, reader is so comically unaware pls just roll with it and suspend your disbelief, mandatory Patrick™️ mention, 3.5k of pure need, art’s so horny in this like 😔 (+subtle implications of him either being a manwhore or a porn addict, as a little treat), lowkey canon typical mind games, unedited
this was requested by a bot looking blog that i had to block but the idea still slapped! combined with an ask for inexperienced reader
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Art Donaldson sees your instagram story that’s only a repost of a Ethel Cain song and tries not to click his heels together. It’s not like he’s happy you’re clearly going through something, but if the story is a result of what he thinks it’s a result of… then he’ll comfort you through it however he can. With his words, his tongue, babying you in the bath and washing your hair, etc. Just getting to be intimate with you at all is an opportunity he’d never turn down.
Suddenly you’re bursting into Art’s dorm like a bat out of hell, tears dotting your waterline and lower lip wobbling. His heart lurches and leaps in equal measures, his backwards cap feels like it constricts around his head as he resists the urge to fidget with it.
“He… he didn’t show up!”
Art shoots up and gets off his bed, rushing to you and rubbing his hands up and down your arms, “What are you talking about?”
He gives you a lingering hug and passes you some of your favorite fast food that he always keeps in the little fridge in his dorm. Somehow knowing that it’d be just what the doctor ordered, you’re so lucky to have such a caring friend. You two haven’t left each other’s side since you bumped him on the first day of class, bringing a clice to life by spilling your coffee all over his polo. Sometimes you still lie awake at night and cringe at yourself, trying to assure yourself that he’s stuck around your awkward ass for a reason.
You’re hiccuping through your story while munching on your chicken sandwich, “Mark acted so exicted yesterday, and now he’s stood me up. I waited in front of the café for an hour, people were staring…”
Art eyes you from his position on the bed, crowding against you due to the size and having half of his torso glued to your back. He doesn’t giggle at the adorable way you get frustrated when the pickle in your sandwich always slides out in between your teeth during a bite, but he thought about it! He reaches up and brushes his fingers against your hair, wanting to just touch it more than move it.
“I don’t know what to tell you, he’s an idiot and you’ll move on. It’s not like he’s the only person in the world.” He grumbles, not quite pouting as he hooks his chin on your shoulder.
“Okay now you’re just grumpy because I beat you at uno.” You tease, gesturing to the scattered pile of brightly colored cards on the bed.
He’s definitely made you feel better though, he always does. You both finish your food and Art stands up from the bed to grab his tennis bag. He pulls you up too and winks, saying that you can’t beat him at everything. You ask what he’s doing and he only grins, telling you to come with him. You nervously glance around as you’re pulled to race through the halls to the court. There’s a simmering feeling weaving in and out of your tightly intertwined fingers.
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Art lets go of your hand to drop his bag on the ground, leaving your palm feeling strangely cold without his warmth.
You’re still not sure you should even be out here, you know that you’re definitely not allowed but Art seems to sense your hesitation because he rushes towards you and cups your hands in his.
“Hey, it’s okay. You’re not gonna get in trouble or anything, y’know that?” He chuckles, gently knocking the tip of his nose against yours. “Look up for me, the moon’s really pretty tonight.”
You follow his lead and tilt your head back to gaze up at the goregous crescent moon high in the oil colored sky. You don’t notice that he’s looking at you instead, that he doesn’t say that the moon reminds him of you but he feels like the one orbiting around you instead of the other way around. Luckily there’s not a cloud in sight, just a floating city of stars with a glowing center. Art lightly pulls on your wrists, clearly wanting your attention back on him, so you comply.
You’re not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but you don’t miss the odd glint in his eyes as he narrows them slightly.
His eyelids crinkle as he smiles charmingly, “Don’t you trust me?”
You answer with your heart, “Yes, of course I do.”
He beams at you and explains the rule of the game he dragged you all the way out here to play. It’s just like a regular game of tennis so you really shouldn’t sweat it, he says. His expression shifts when he makes a show out of being unable to look you in the eye when he tells you the special rules, knowing full well you can see him try to tamper down a self satisfied laugh. Whoever scores gets to pick whatever piece of clothing the other takes off, and the loser of the game has to get completely naked if they aren’t already.
Your cheeks warm and you gawk at him, “Isn’t it weird that you’ll see me… like that?”
“So you already know you’re gonna lose, huh? And it’s not like i haven’t seen most of it before.” Art laughs, not bothering to hide the blush on his face. “You’ve seen all of me, anyway.”
It’s true, you usually laze around in nothing but your underwear and that’s been the norm for you two. Art’s no different, he’ll change in front of you and will literally walk around butt naked around your dorm. More often than not, he’ll answer the door in only a towel around his waist and sitting on his hip bones, no matter if it’s one of your other friends or a project partner. You're constantly having to text the other because you forgot that you left your toothbrush behind. You’ve never had a chance to be embarrassed by it. It’s been like that for the longest time and anytime you’ll tell Art that your friends keep asking if he’s your boyfriend, he’ll just reassure you that you guys are just really close. And isn’t that a good thing?
“Besides, I think this’ll help get you out of your shell.”
You’re embarrassed at the reminder of how inexperienced you are. Sure, you shouldn’t have a whole thing about it or whatever, but it just is kind of alienating from other people your age to not be able to say you’ve done what they’ve done. And you would’ve been able to have some stories of your own if you could manage to hold down a date. But tonight isn’t supposed to be about you wallowing, you’re supposed to be having fun. Even if the sight of your best friend in tight fitting sporty clothes makes your pussy throb.
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You giggle nervously when he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you, swaying you from side to side before moving his grip up to your arms.
“Relax, i’m just checking your form. Being close to you is just a bonus.” He winks and presses his stomach up against your back.
It’s so cheesy, the situation and the pose. But you lean into his touch and pretend to care about how he’s showing you the right way to hold a racket and all that, he doesn’t even really care if he’s being honest. It’s romantic though, and he can’t resist the opportunity to get a taste of what it’d be like to pin your body down with his weight. He guides you through a few “practice” swings and then throws a two finger salute at you as he jogs around the net to his side of the court.
It’s your serve, and despite you being very much a beginner, you get the first point.
Art stands there expectantly, cocking his head to the side and bouncing on his heels in anticipation. You honestly didn’t consider that you’d actually be telling your best friend to take off his clothes for you, but you’re new thing is taking shit in stride, you guess.
“So, what’s it gonna be?” He shouts and hovers his fingers around the collar of his polo, ready for you to say the word.
You take the coward’s way out, “Your shoes.”
Art frowns but obeys the rules, swiftly unlacing his sneakers and tossing them to the side. The court’s not so rough that it’d be hell on his feet, but he’d do it for you even if it was all a bunch of jagged rocks cobbled together. The game goes on with Art scoring the next point, and then the one after that. He has you discard your necklace, one of those cheesy half heart ones that matches with one he has, and your shoes as well. He doesn’t wanna scare you off, but he knows what he wants to have you take off for him.
You score the next time, down goes his pants. Without them, few things are left to the imagination. Every time he’d walk around you naked you’d always keep your face firmly glued to your phone or something. But being faced with the very… detailed outline of his bulge through his underwear, that’s another thing entirely. It looks so long against his thigh it might as well be a third leg. There’s already a little wet spot where the tip must be.
You must’ve been taking too long to ogle him, because Art yells at you to “Focus on the game, yeah?”
You’re lucky it’s not a cold night when he gets the next point and has you take off your pants, which are really just glorified shorts. You unfasten them and shimmy them down your legs, letting them pool around your ankles and kicking them away from you. You haven’t shaved today, but you know that Art doesn’t care about that sort of thing. He’s made sure to tell you as much many times when you complain about how much your back hurts after you get done with it.
Art takes his sweet time dragging his gaze down your legs, already imagining bringing them around his waist or over his shoulders. Your panties are so cute too, cupping your pussy so closely that he can see the shapes of your puffy lips from all the way on the other side of the court, a “camel toe” or whatever you call it. He thinks it’s so hot, but you’re shy about it, asking him to see how you look in jeans that are a size too small. He always does a thorough inspection.
Whoever scores next wins the game, and you’re too busy trying not to fall on your ass to put any effort into it. It’s not a real game away, and besides, it’s not like anything has to happen when the loser completely undresses. Out of the corner of your eye you see Art’s dick twitch in his briefs and you get so distracted that you freeze and miss the neon yellow-green ball hurtling past you. Art whoops and cheers as you process the fact that you lost.
“You know what that means.” Art grins from ear to ear. “Make a show out of it for me.”
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You don’t even mind the staring, it’s such a common thing that you’d be more pissed off if he wasn’t looking at you at all. The way his eyes devour every inch of bare skin and drop of sweat that you earned during the game. You pull your tank top up and over your head, leaving you in just your bra and panties. Your bra isn’t a frilly thing, you wear it mainly for support, but Art can’t seem to tear himself away from the view of your pushed up tits rising and falling as you breathe.
You…. don’t know what to do now, the big appeal of the game is over, you awkwardly laugh it off and bend over to pick up your clothes. Art shakes his head to snap himself out of his horny fever dream and races over to you, latching onto your wrist and stopping you from getting dressed again.
“You’re supposed to take it all off, remember?”
You drop your clothes, noticing that he still doesn’t let you go.
Heats fills your cheeks as he steps closer, delicately sliding his fingertips up the inside of your arm and around your back. He plays with the hook of your bra, gazing down at you with a look full to brim with unknown intent and purpose. He doesn’t do something as bold as unlatching it right out the gate, no, he just stares into your soul.
“I remember.” Your eyes drop down to his lips, and that’s when you know it’s over. “Can’t exactly do it myself if you’ve already got one foot in the door.”
You’ve gotta know when to fold ‘em, and all that.
Art softly smiles and loops his fingers under your bra strap. You have to remind yourself to breathe, but you don’t really get much of a chance to. Before you can stop yourself and think with your head, you’re canting up to press your lips to his. Art immediately kisses you back, chuckling into the kiss when you gasp as he expertly unhooks your bra with one hand.
In the blink of an eye, you’re flat on your back on the court, Art having hastily thrown his shirt under you while you were tangling your tongues together. He presses an array of wet open mouthed kisses down your body, paying extra special attention to the trimmed patch of hair at the top of your mound.
“Smells so good, ‘s cute, too. It figures you’d have the prettiest pussy I've ever seen.” He coos, dragging a lone finger down your slit before gently pushing it inside.
You gasp, wrenching your eyes shut tight at the intrusion. He takes good care of you, slowly sinking his finger in to the knuckle and sliding it in and out of you. He gradually adds more fingers as the minutes pass. Your walls throb around him, and if Art were a weaker man (like the guy you almost went out with) he would’ve said fuck it and plunged his dick into your cunt in one smooth stroke. But you deserve the best first time possible, and all the distractions he’s used have helped him be patient enough to refrain from humping you like a dog.
“You’re okay, you can take it. It’s nothing compared to what this pussy’s going to be taking later anyway, baby.” He hums and nuzzles his nose into where your inner thigh meets your mound.
As he’s languidly thrusting his fingers into your puffy pussy, Art strains his neck to lap at your ass. He holds one of your fat cheeks in his free hand and spreads you open, diving in to suck on the puckered hole between them. He sharpens his tongue and jabs it into your ass, his cock throbs when you let out the sweetest little squeals at the squelching and throaty noises he’s making. He can feel your hole unfurling with every slurp and suck, something that only makes him increase the speed of his long fingers in your pussy, maintaining a breathtaking steady rhythm.
Eventually his poor leaking cock can’t take anymore grinding into the ground, so Art crooks his fingers and (albeit a bit cruelly) jams them into your sweet spot. The velvet grip of your pussy strangles his digits like a dream, you’d take dick so beautifully. Your eyes fly open and your throat spasms around a mangled moan. He pulls his fingers out of your soaking wet pussy, smirking up at you as he sucks them try like a professionally trained whore. Your clit receives a loving kitten lick as an apology for neglecting it, and with that Art hovers over you at an even eye to eye level again.
“Holy shit…” You pant and flick his pebbled nipples, absentmindedly rolling them around with your thumb. “Are we really doing this?”
“Yeah, we are.” Art sighs, his head falls back as you duck down to suck his nipples into your mouth, the saliva you lathered them with dripping down your chin. He grabs the back of your head and pushes your face into his chest, arching his back.
“Relax, I bribed security and told them to fuck off for the night.”
That doesn’t concern you as much as it should, you’re too transfixed on Art wrenching your mouth off of his pecs and moving to straddle your chest.
“Can you push them together for me?” He breathes hard and grinds his weeping cock against your tits, mesmerized by how his precum makes your skin glisten.
“Oh, fuck.” He groans when you do, making quick use out of the delicious new friction the little pocket provides. “Thanks, honey.”
You keep staring at the tip of his dick, loving the little peek you get of it as he fucks your tits and it pokes your chin. You don’t even realize you’re doing it but you let your mouth hang open, angling your head down so his cockhead pecks your tongue at the end of every thrust. You make sure to lick every drop of pre cum away as it oozes out of him, looking so nice against the flushed pink skin of his tip. Art groans when he finally summons the strength to watch you do it, the sight hurtling him over the edge before he has the time or vocal ability to warn you.
His thick load jets out to land all over your tits, half of it on the lower half of your face. You’re almost sad it didn’t get high enough to clump your lashes together, it would’ve made for the perfect contact picture. Oh well, maybe next time. It’s amazing, the switch you’ve made from the shy friend to the writhing slut underneath him. You blame it on the honest to God sweet taste of his milky white cum, surprisingly making you think of the pineapples he always snatches from your plate when you eat at school together.
(Another painstaking effort made just for you, love)
It’s a miracle you get back to his dorm, some of your clothes are swapped and put on incorrectly and you both didn’t clean up at all. As soon as you reach the door, Art practically shoves you inside and onto the bed. He gets so frustrated with having to get your clothes off again that he just rips them right off of you, promising to take you to the mall tomorrow (or whenever he lets you leave the bed) to buy replacements. You literally couldn't care less if he shackles you to the wall, you need him to rearrange your guts so badly, you’d kill for it. Should you be having deep conversations about your feelings and what the future will look like? Absolutely, but your clit is clouding your sense of rationality and you don’t mind that right now.
“Do you even know how much i’ve wanted this? To fuck you so hard that we end up attached at the hip?” He bites, breaking away from your lips to suck bruises down the column of your throat. “We can have a baby- please have my baby, fuck!”
There’s something so weirdly romantic about the leftover scent of the court combined with the twinkling stars outside. Art’s moans and hands scrambling to pin you down so all you have to do is take it, you’re doing things all out of order, but this was always going to happen sooner or later. Art is a clumsy manipulator but he’s so handsome… you find yourself agreeing to every frantic declaration flying out of his mouth as he spears his long cock into your sopping wet pussy. You claw red lines into his shoulders and back, and Art nearly creams on the spot. The sting and the fact that you’re so out of it, you’re marking him up, are crossing the wires in his brain. His taut thighs burn with the effort of fucking you so far into the mattress.
You’ll get to cum four more times than he does, and by the end of it you’ll wish you never came at all. Your soul’s goikg to be so far away from your ruined mess of limbs that you won’t notice the sacred promises being muttered into your sweaty hair or pay attention to your phone being out on Do Not Disturb. You’ll be right where you should be, inevitably molded around the shape of his dick and branded by all the love bites that litter your body. You’ll think you passed out during most of them, but you’ll give him a loopy smile, hook your pinky around his, and let yourself melt away.
It feels as if your walls are still clenching around a dick that’s no longer buried to the hilt in them.
“I love you”’s are for early mornings with coffee and pancakes. Gloating to Patrick will be for hours before then, Art blocking him when you’re deep asleep and unable to mend the growing rift between them.
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taylorswiftbutsimp · 3 days
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Written In The Stars
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Jing Yuan x Wife Reader
Genre: Fluff
Warnings ⚠️: Reader is called wife, Dad jing yuan, reader and yanqing have a close relationship, family, Abit dramatic, slight angst-Fluff, mentions of deed
To avoid confusion yangqing is green and jing yuan is blue
Author’s note: dilf jing yuan that’s it he got me hooked from day one🫶
“Its so thoughtful that Qingni asked the palace of Astrum to help her for Mother's Day this year” you mumbled, which Fu Xuan clearly heard and that made her eye brow raise.
 
It was a nice day to begin with the streets of xianzhou luofu filled with flowers displayed for people to buy and the huge sale for chocolates and gifts.
Which leads you here today with Fu Xuan drinking tea at Starkiff Haven, drinking tea by the bridge, where Mr. Xiyan also shares stories.
She doesn't think it's a good sign when she sees a slight pout on your lips, and you've been sighing so many times that she's lost count.
And how you keep mentioning todays agenda mother’ day.
Just a few hours ago, you dragged her off to the divination and asked her for a stroll to clear something in your mind.
You didn't speak about it but instead looked at the flower shops and families that passed by with sad eyes. 
Fu xuan felt bad
“Did something happen at home with the general? ”She asked, hoping to get this off your back and rant it open to her.
As your mood went unpleasant, the teacup returned to the saucer with a loud thud.
"It's just some men are very ignorant and suddenly they don't have time for you" you exclaimed out to Fu Xuan.
"But I guess it can't be helped afterall we all grow apart" you grumbled again before wrapping it up and thanking Fu Xuan for her company, even though you dragged her.
She watched as your form dissapeared from the crowd. Normally, she wouldn't engage in the affairs of the general and his wife.
But perhaps she could turn your day frowny to bright-eyed. She only needed to give someone an earful of scolding, and Fu Xuan knew exactly who it was.
———
Tracking down the general was the easiest thing considering all he does is stay in one or two places. She might thank Lan for giving the luofu a laid-back general.
"Jing Yuan!" She huffed and gave the general a frustrated look, shocking the general who was finishing the last pile of papers of the day.
"I must be in deep trouble lady diviner what do i owe the pleasure-"
"How can you be so neglectful to your wife!"
Neglectful? Was that how you felt over the previous few days? Is that why you stayed up all night and wait for him?
though perhaps he has been busy and forgot his husbandly duties, but he did greet you last night before dozing off and greet you earlier this morning with roses and a delicious breakfast in the garden, which you appreciated and smiled at him.
What has he done to make you this sad and cause the lady diviner this angry.
"I spent the morning with my wife, diviner fu, and waited until the clock struck 12 to greet her. Did I miss anything?" Jing Yuan was puzzled.
———
You walked till your feet ached, seeking to clear your mind from today's event, which couldn't be helped as you went by others who acknowledged today's agenda
Well i guess it can’t be helped
Perhaps ending this night with a warm bath and a glass of wine wouldn't hurt. You deserve it. You patted yourself on the shoulder before walking back home.
Something feels odd. There were rose petals around your home and a few lighted candles. The lights were turned to a warmer tone to suit the ambiance.
"Jing Yuan, are you home?" You spoke before following the trails of roses when you got no response and entered your shared room with your husband.
There lays the dozing general partly naked, one hand holding a bottle of wine and the other holding two empty glasses.
“Yuan what is this?” You asked strangely looking at your husband. You knew he was a romantic guy, but he wouldn't generally do this type of thing at home.
Especially if yanqing is near
Oh boy, he walked in on you two doing the deed and didn't speak to either of you for a day straight.
"Shhh, my beautiful wife, how about you relax yourself and let me do all the work?" The white-haired man spoke standing up and handing you the bouquet of flowers sitting on the bedside table.
"Yuan, you didn't have to do this. You already spoiled me enough today with the breakfast at the garden, not to mention you bought me gifts" you smiled, tucking his fluffy hair behind his ear.
That bewildered the man in front of you. If you were so pleased today, why did Fu Xuan upsetly scold him for an hour straight and tell him to step up his game with you.
"What's with the long face, Yuan?" You said, tilting your head, wondering what he was thinking.
“I thought you were mad at me”
“Yuan why would i be mad at you?”
"Lady Fu Xuan visited me this afternoon after you had tea with her” he said, soothing your face so that you could make eye contact with him.
"Yes, I recall texting you that beloved” you murmured.
"She said you were saddened by today's event; do you want me to host a big party for your wife?" Jing Yuan questioned with concern, his hands leaving your face and tracing little circles all over your back.
"No, it's not that I wasn't able to make it clear to Fu Xuan before; it has nothing to do with you, dear; you treat me so nicely, why would I be angry at you?"
"Nevertheless, my wife, I apologise if I make you feel neglected. Please tell me, wife, and I will fix myself for you" Jing Yuan said as he kissed your knuckles and nibbled your wrist.
A deep flush appears on your face, followed by his name and a light scolding for him. Oh, Jing Yuan, he knows what he's doing.
You watched as he sat down on the bed and pulled you to sit on his lap, burrying himself at your neck. "Now that I know you're not upset at me, may i know what's got you riled up, wife?" Jing Yuan mumbles at your neck before glancing at you and giving your chin a peck.
"Now that you mentioned it” a slight pout appears at the corner of your mouth. "Yanqing" you chirp.
"Yuan, have I been a bad mother?" Your voice is pleading and your eyes are getting glossy.
“My wife you will never be a bad mother infact our yanqing adores you-“
"Stop sugarcoating Yuan, if he adores his mother so much, he should be making me a card or saying happy Mother's Day mom" you ranted tiredly before pressing your forehead on Jing Yuan.
"I'm just saying we're losing Yanqing, and who knows if he still sees me as his mother" you whisper, a tear forming in the corner of your eye.
It was silent, but it felt nice to have the love of your life hug you and soothe the sobs you let out, never telling you to stop.
———
Jing Yuan put you on the bed an hour after you cried out to him about your worries. He makes sure to speak with Yanqing in the morning, but tonight his main focus is on you.
He watched as you dozed off on the silky pillows, your face a little swollen from sobbing, but Jing Yuan adores every version of you. And he wouldn't have it any other way.
A small knock on the door interrupted his thoughts, snapping him back to reality. He carefully stood up, making sure not to shift the bed and wake you up. 
There he is the mastermind behind your tears yanqing
"Oh" Yanqing said, not expecting Jing Yuan to open the door. "Oh indeed my child, do you need anything?" He chuckled quietly.
"Is Mom there?" I made a card for her as promised, and I won't stop giving her cards for every occasion." Yanqing stated clearly unaware of the circumstances.
"Yuan, who is there?" You questioned, voice sluggish. You seemed woken up by the conversation, and he then opens the door slightly for you to see Yanqing.
"My baby" you sat up fast, watching him make his way to you and giving you a card he drew with the words "Happy Mother's Day" written on it.
"Happy Mother's Day, Mom," Yanqing said, hugging you warmly "I thought you forgot about me”
“Never mom i love you more than the general”
“You do know i’m here yanqing?”
———
Bonus:
Jing Yuan yawned, sitting on the floor, his head resting at the corner of the bed. He watch as yanqing take his bed space while you two slumber warmly.
"Maybe next year, Jing Yuan” he whispers to himself. They say jealousy is a ugly thing.
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lilislegacy · 2 days
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It kind feels this fandom babys Percy and forget everyones been through things even Annabeth. She gets treated like shes the cause of some of his pain and therefore they shouldnt be together? When the guy would be depressed without her.
warning: i’m about to thought vomit. a lot.
RIGHT?? i try not to talk about it, but sometimes the way the fandom mischaracterizes and misunderstands percy really bothers me. the fact of the matter is: a lot of people want percy to be someone he’s not. and don’t get me wrong, i love that people have their own headcanons, but percy would hate the way people portray him in the fandom. and yes, it annoys me how people villainize annabeth in the meantime. they make him out to be this sensitive little guy and her this super mean toxic girl. when in reality they are complete equals. which is… the whole point.
percy has his insecurities, and he is super sarcastic and silly (largely in his head), but he’s a super strong and badass guy. he’s canonically very tough and intimidating. he has real human feelings, has big mood swings, and even gets emotional at some times (usually with his dad), but he’s not a sensitive guy, by any means. this is the same dude who’s been kicked out of every school, including military schools. he’s dealt with bullies and monsters and villains his whole life. he doesn’t get hurt or offended easily. and annabeth has been through just as much shit. it’s different, but it not “more” or “less” than he’s been through. and for some reason people don’t like this, but annabeth is the sensitive one in the relationship. she cries easily, she gets offended more easily, she feels and shows her emotions a lot more than percy. and that does not make her weak. and it’s the truth. so when people make her out to be this cold toxic person, who hurts little poor sensitive percy, it’s frustrating. it’s so wrong. they are both extremely strong. annabeth is percy’s biggest source of joy and comfort. she does not abuse him or degrade him.
no, their relationship is not perfect. neither of them are perfect. annabeth can be too prideful, and can tend to feel superior to others, but it’s just because she’s so intelligent. she’s aware of it and she actively works on it. in COTG, percy said whenever she gets excited about her day at school or proud of her accomplishments, she stops herself and asks about him instead. she knows she can be prideful, and wants to make sure percy knows she values and respects him. and percy, along with being impulsive, can be very insensitive. yes, it’s true. he is very loyal, but that doesn’t mean he’s always sensitive and considerate of people’s feelings. we see it so much, especially in battle of the labyrinth when he was an asshole to annabeth. some of it is because he can be very oblivious (no, not dumb), but some is just because of who he is. but he’s aware of it and actively works on it. like when he gave nico that big apology in heroes of olympus, and apologized to leo about calypso.
they are not perfect, because they are real. but they build each other up and love each other unconditionally. percy does not need people to protect him from annabeth. annabeth protects him more than anyone else. she takes care of him - physically and emotionally. and he does the same for her. they’ve been through a lot of crap, and they both help each other through it. they are partners. they are equals. neither are weak, and neither are toxic.
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wndaswife · 2 days
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it’s the end of the school year, and a bunch of people from your year are going out to a bar to celebrate. cheerleader!wanda doesn’t expect you to come, because you were never really into the big events, which she liked about you. she n her friends always seemed to be in the middle of them, and it was with you that she realized she enjoyed finally getting away from it and just being with you instead
but you do attend with some of your friends, surprisingly, and that girl wanda saw you with at your performance at the restaurant a few weeks ago. you probably didn’t want to speak with her, and so it was only through a mutual friend that she might have a chance. but you don’t have any mutual friends, so wanda can’t see any way to be able to come up to you naturally. so she watches you through the night, watches you laugh and talk with people that aren’t her. she doesn’t know what you’re talking about way over there, or how your semester went, or how you know that girl you came with
unbeknownst to her, you’ve been occasionally watching her from across the bar — watching her get drunker, way more than she can hold, and downing shots ridiculously fast. wanda’s friends don’t really care as much as they should, or as much as you thought, for it had been them that told you wanda had been cheating on you for the first month of your relationship, and that she had been dared to go out with you, in order for her to spend more time with them again. but they don’t care. it frustrates you watching as wanda becomes far too drunk to keep herself up, and you end up approaching her while her friends were off elsewhere
you leave the bar with a very drunk wanda, telling her stubbornly that you’re bringing her home. she has her arms around you the whole way back
“you’re so pretty, y/n,” wanda mutters into your shoulder while looking at you through hooded eyes as you help her take her jacket off at her place. it kind of makes you ache. she asks for you to stay once you’ve taken her makeup off and got her into some new clothes. she’s holding your hand while tucked under her blankets, asking you to please stay and take care of her for longer
just then, wanda’s roommate comes back and you can hear her keys jingling in the door. “i’ll let agatha know, and she’ll take care of you, okay?” you tell her. wanda releases your hand in defeat. but the sight of her laying in her bed looking up at you — it just makes your chest hurt. you lean down and kiss her forehead, pulling her blankets up to her chin before leaving and carefully closing her bedroom door behind you
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pixiiipie · 2 days
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As someone who’s desperately into subby boys I love your stuff. If you find the time would you write something for Rafayel? I love that fishie. 😩
mirror fucking | sub rafayel
includes: dom!reader | gn!reader | strap-on used | blowjob (receiving) | pegging (giving) | handjob (barely mentioned) (giving)
sorry this is so long and it takes a little while to get going!! i’m trying to work on a more to the point writing style but i can’t help waffling TT
i don’t know too much about rafayel atm so i hope i wrote him decently for you | and thank u so much <33! i love writing subby boys so i’m here to deliver to you all
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it was common for rafayel to suddenly disappear like this. these long periods of silence usually meant that he was busy working on his next piece but he’d always send you the occasional message when he was thinking about you or felt lonely. with you in his life, it was hard to continue as he used to. he’s so needy.
this time however, his messages were less frequent and when he did message, he seemed uninterested. either he was incredibly focused or his painting wasn’t going well. worrying a little, you decide to drop in on him by surprise to give yourself piece of mind but also because you missed him dearly.
———
walking into his painting room, you admire all the works of art surrounding you but only one was worth looking at. sat at the top of his ladder, rafayel stared at a blank canvas silently muttering to himself. the setting sun’s rays streamed through the windows and made him appear otherworldly. you let out a content sigh full of love. “hey, what are you doing here?” rafayel asks, finally noticing you.
“getting a strong sense of deja vu” you say with a laugh. blocking the canvas from his sight, he turns to you giving you his full attention. “if i fall, do you think you can catch me this time?” he teases. “of course princess.” you retort back. rafayel smiles but it doesn’t feel sincere. he looks distracted.
“come down my love.” you say, holding the ladder for him and extending your hand to him. rafayel sighs and nods slowly making his way down and taking your hand when he reaches you. seeing your expression, he already knows what you’ll ask him.
“i need a new piece for this exhibit i’ve been invited to but… i just can’t think. i’m going to tell them i can’t do it.” rafayel says, avoiding your gaze. bringing a hand to his cheek, you gently move his head to face yours and give him a chaste kiss. you feel his body relax with your touch and as you pull away, he chases your lips desperate for more. rubbing your thumb over his cheek, your heart melts seeing your boy like this. he leans into your hand and holds it there with his, silently begging for you to stay with him.
“the more you force yourself to make something, the less chance you have being successful.” you say but quickly continue before he can cut in with a remark “you’re going to burn yourself out even more and become frustrated. art block is a killer you just need to direct your attention elsewhere.” your other hand wraps around his waist and massages small circles into it.
“i… i really need to make something new. people will get bored.” rafayel quietly says moving his head into your neck and surrounding himself with your scent- comforting him. pressing a quick kiss to his neck, you start shuffling over to his floor length mirror with him still attached. such a baby but you loved how he felt so safe with you. “how about,” you whisper, tapping him to get his attention, “you do a portrait? or even a self portrait you haven’t done one of those in a while.” rafayel slowly lifts his head up, glances at himself in the mirror and goes back to his hiding place. all his motivation had gone and you could tell his self esteem was struggling as a result.
“oh my love.” you say, running a hand through his hair, “i love the cool tone colours you use and the dreamy/underwater look you make so effortlessly.” with your encouragement, he lifts his head again and watches your eyes in the mirror. “those are my favourites. just look at all the colours you could include especially…” you say as you pull him into another kiss “…when i do this.” and gesture at his flushed expression. “that’s my favourite colour.”
his heart couldn’t take it anymore. this was the perfect distraction. oh he’d forgotten just how much he’d missed you and your touch. all he wanted now was to feel you and for you to look at him. “please… oh darling touch me more please.” rafayel begs pressing his forehead against you. with a smile, you snake a hand down to softly squeeze his ass which made him gasp. “woah… getting handsy already.” he tries to say in his usual teasing tone but it comes out more breathless than he’d liked.
“how about, to help you get started, i show you some anatomy references you could use?” you say gesturing to the bag your brought. rafayel could only nod, wondering a little to what that could allude to but letting you go to fetch it. he was left standing breathing heavily and a ‘problem’ forming between his legs which his was quick to attempt to hide. you didn’t reveal what you had brought until you were stood next to him again. “on your knees.” you commanded, motioning with your eyes and taking what you had brought out from behind you. your strap on.
his eyes never left yours as he knelt down infront of you. rafayel patiently held out his hands to help you adjust your harness and kissed your legs all while doing so. “you know what to do now.” you say, playing with his hair with one hand before taking his chin. “of course.” he says with a smile but a little shaky. obediently, kisses the tip before licking long strips up the sides. you loved watching him treat your strap like a real dick. “mm you’re so big” he said with a sly smile. then, inch by inch, he slowly worked his way up your strap so that his nose touched your abdomen. he tried so hard to please you even if you couldn’t strictly feel pleasure from this. he was adorable to watch as he tried every trick in the book to not gag but his teary eyes betrayed him. such a show off.
such a good boy.
“you look so beautiful right now, my love. look” you say and point at the mirror. flicking his eyes to his reflection, rafayel saw just how desperate he was for you. on his knees as if you were his god. he took this opportunity to show off and kissed down the shaft before taking you in the entire way and moving up and down moaning the entire way (which were half fake and half from his attempt of his trousers rubbing against him).
“can you fuck me now? please? it’s been so long.” he begs, rubbing his cheek against your strap. “on all fours sweet boy.” you say, bending over to kiss his forehead. rafayel tried not to appear excited and instead put on a little show of taking off his trousers and bending over for you. “hello pretty boy.” you say as he stretches like a cat to try and tease you. kneeling beside him, you trace your fingers down his body and hook onto his underwear before slowly pulling them down. he shivered at your motion. you reach a hand around for him to coat your fingers while the other flicks his dick causing him to gasp. “d-don’t tease.” he says half confident and half whiny. “sorry but you’re too cute. this won’t take long” you say as you begin to push your fingers into his hole.
rafayel tried to be patient but you’d worked him up too much and it’d been too long. “mmghh that’s enough… i-it’s good.” he moaned weakly grabbing your wrist, “haah- oh goddd please i need youu.”
“okay then if you say so.” you half warn. nothing would be able to change his mind now and to be honest, you wanted this badly too. you really wanted him to feel good. “but one condition baby,” you align yourself with his hole making his try to push his hips back, “you can’t stop looking at yourself.” and with that, you start to slowly push in holding onto his hips. as you did, you grabbed him by the chin with one hand and made him look at himself. “aww what i pretty boy i have hm? you look so beautiful taking my dick like a good boy.”
the praise feels electric but having to look at himself the whole time was embarrassing! he wanted to look at you more. “ohhhhh- mghh-! feels gooddd s’gooodd” rafayel babbles trying to not let his eyes flutter shut. as soon as you bottom out, you start thrusting and aiming for his sweet spot carefully watching him. you bend over his body and leave little kisses on his neck as well as making sure to suck on his ears. they flared red and his moans became whines. “hnng-! c-carefulll sensiti-ivee.” so cute.
“don’t forget to keep your eyes up darling. that’s my pretty boy.” you whisper in his ears which made it increasingly difficult for him to focus on anything you were saying to him. “ohhhh fffuck hnng-!”
“aww look at what a gorgeous boy i have i’m so lucky. not only that but he’s so talented isn’t he?”
his head was so foggy he couldn’t handle it all. he burned at all of your praise and couldn’t stop his noises as you targeted his prostate. “isn’t my handsome boy so talented rafayel?” you ask again. his name sounded so perfect coming out of your mouth. he wished you would keep talking to him your voice was intoxicating. “mmnnn-! yesh y-yesyes.” he whined as he struggled to keep himself upright.
“yes what, my love?” you tease, increasing your pace and biting his ear slightly. “tah-! talent ‘m talente-eddd mmmgghhh gooodd.” rafayel was barely looking at himself now and instead his head hung low as he focused all his strength in holding himself up. it didn’t matter he’d done so well and he was probably weak from shutting himself in for so long. “that’s my hardworking boy. i’m so proud of you, rafayel.” you kissed his cheek, a hand coming round to stroke his dick. the added stimulation was too much!
“clo-oseee c-cum cahnn i?” he slurred, his hips unintentionally started slowly trying to match your thrusts to get him closer. “of course, you’ve worked so hard and done so well. you deserve the world, darling.” you praise him and kiss down his spine. it didn’t take long after your sweet words that he came over the floor and almost lost his balance if you didn’t hold onto him.
rubbing his hips, you slowly pull out and discard your strap on the floor. shuffling around, you sit in front of rafayel and support his upper body against you. “did that help you great artist?” you ask after a little while, moving his hair out of his eyes.
“mmmnn i got quite fuzzy… can’t remember much i might need to look at my references again.” he says teasingly. “oh wait… these clothes… i don’t like the colour they won’t work. maybe you should take them off next time.”
despite his remarks, he nuzzled into your neck, whispered thank you and started whining all over again.
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obeymematches · 2 days
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MC acting oblivious!
since you're accepting hcs now, how about an mc whos a big tease/bully (aka mammons worst nightmare lol)? im quick to realize when someone has a crush on me and when i like them back i turn into the biggest tease on earth until the other person confesses. im good at acting oblivious so its always "wait, they cant possibly know i like them, right??" poor, poor souls lmao. so im wondering how the brothers+undateables would handle an mc like that! keep up the great work! 💕
Hi, good to see you again !!! <3 
okay i love this so much lets go ! 
Lucifer: 
Okay so in his case it’s mentioned several times that he is in love with the MC so this ain’t just some crush he’s being teased about but that’s one of the reasons why he loves you so much.  
He is rather guarded emotianlly as his pride isn’t going to let him just fall for anyone. But once he does he is not going to deny it!  
Lucifer is someone who will ask you out on a date without a warning. The only thing you might notice beforehead is that he spends suspiciously lots of his time with you. (by a lot in his case I mean something in between 30 and 60 mins every second day. he’s a busy man) 
Him: My schedule is tight today but I would like to spend time with you, MC, would you care to join me at a confectionary?  MC: sounds like you’re very busy, are you sure about that? 🥺 Him,  slightly offended but still lovingly: Yes, MC. Let me express myself better... would you please have a date with me today? MC: oh....um-
Mammon:
● oh god, oh jesus, oh no
● We all know The Great Mammon has a hard time admitting his feelings out loud, with words, bluntly.
● So the way I see it, the situation is about to be Awkward As Hell.
● Mammon is clearly sweating, butterflies occupying his entire stomach, he fiddles with his nails.
● Him: So MC, I was thinking- I mean I'm thinking- wanna go skating with me tonight?
MC: Oh that's a very romantic idea- but I think friends don't just go skating, you know.
Him: Friends??! I don't wanna be just your friend MC-
You: Then? Then what?
Him: Goddamn I- I just want to be yours- Jesus ya are makin' it so difficult MC, it is not easy as is!!
Leviathan:
● ahh the frustrated face he makes through this conversation isn't just a facade. He really is stressing right now.
● Him: MC.... there is something I must tell you. And you only. Please listen and don't tell anyone!
MC: Don't worry Levi, I too hate people who gossip-
Him: No it's not like that. I have a desire in my heart that I must share with you as you are the most special person I ever met and I can only hope you feel the same way for me and- I feel so embarassed but I've been meaning to ask you this- would you be my partner? My player 2?
MC: well if you wanted me to play you could have just said so like you always do-
Levi: What?? Is that what you understood? No MC you don't get it! Ahhh I knew I shouldn't have asked you my chances with you are close to zero-
MC: Wait Levi I'm so sorry-
Satan:
● You could tell he was acting different these past couple of days. He was texting you more, he offered to spend more time with you- it was obvious he likes you.
● He knocked on your bedroom door and as you liked him just as much as he liked you, of course you let him in.
● I think you acting like you don't know what's going on turns him on? Like he know you ain't stupid. He knows you like him at least a little bit too, otherwise he wouldn't be here talking with you.
● Him: So MC, are you free now?
MC: Well, it depends on how you define "free" I think.
Him: Oh quit it please.
MC: I would if I knew what you were up to right now-
Him: Alright. You are going to make it more complicated, I see. In this case, meet me at 4PM at the common room. Please. I'd like to take you on a date if you're free.
MC: Inside the house? Weird if you ask me-
Him: ...... you are right actually. Let's meet at the park then. Don't be late.
Asmo:
● Again he would absolutely love you acting like you noticed nothing when he couldn't be more clear about what he wants.
● He knows this game though & he is quicker than you are.
● Him, cuddling you: So MC I have been thinking about us....what are we?
● MC: We are.... the best. Me, a human, and you, a demon.
Him: Nooooo, you know that's not what I meant!!!
MC: Well I don't know what you mean Asmo. Aren't we though?
Him: Aren't we what? A human and a demon?? Ahhhhg stop playing with me MC!
Beelzebub:
● Ohh babe is going to believe you actually don't know what' going on-
● I think he'd find it funny when he realizes you were just acting like such-
Him: MC. I like you.
MC: Okay, I like you too. That's why I'm your friend.
Him: Yes we are friends I know... but to me you are the first person I want to talk to if anything happens, good or bad... you are on my mind all the time, no matter what- I haven't felt like this in my entire life- you are the most special person to me, MC.
MC: Ohhh... I didn't realize-
Him: I only went out with Mammon yesterday because I thought... I was hoping you'd be there to, that you'd join... I just wanted to spend more time with you. But you weren't there. Let's go somewhere together today- I mean, if you want to-
Belphegor:
● MC you are about to annoy him to deatg to be fair.
● Depending on his mood he might join you though!!!
Him: So human- I mean MC. Let's hang out today.
MC: We already do.
Him: I meant as a date, stop playing stupid.
MC: I don't like being called stupid. Is this how you are asking me out on a date??
Him: See I knew you knew what I meant!
MC: Why would you ask me on a date though, aren't we just friends?
Him: .....
Him: We could change that- I want to be your one and only.
MC: Well if you are my one and only friend I might get lonely when you're too busy for me though-
Him: Stop it don't say another word. Are you coming today or not? MC? You listening?
MC: you just asked me to shut up-
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senawashere · 3 days
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We're on this together... (Chapter II)
Bradley Bradshaw × fem!wife!reader
Summary: Is it harder for you? Or for Bradley?
Warnings: infertility,mentions of miscarrige,mentions of hospital,mentions of getting pregnant,mentiones of ivf. Mostly angst.
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'We are on this journey together and we will never separate. I love you."
January 3, 2023.
Everyone,mostly you, could see how much Bradley loved childrens. Babies, toddlers, teenagers, it didn't matter, he loved them.
Ever since you married, you had admired how he treated them, how he made them laugh, how they played, and how his eyes lit up at the high-pitched squeals they made when he threw them in the air. He would catch them again. And again.
He... was born just for this.
That's why you were trying so hard to give him what he wanted more than anything in the world; a baby,a kid of yours.
He searches hundreds of websites for you on ways to increase your chances of getting pregnant, checks your ovulation time, changes your diet... he does the impossible and you both still can't succeed.
You couldn't make your husband happy. He hated this sentence.
And the worst part is, he's not the only one waiting for you to have his child, everyone is doing it, all of your friends are having their second or third kids and you were still... not pregnant.
One day, you were criticized among your friends for not having a flat stomach. They said something as a joke that you might be pregnant, but it wasn't like that.
Just because you dont have a flat belly doesn't mean you're pregnant, right?
Your tears feel familiar on your skin now and when you were sure Bradley is gone you were crying all over the house, you couldn't let him see you like this, it's not fair when he gave you everything and you couldn't give him something so simple.
It's that simple. Right?
You don't want help, you can do it on your own, you know he can or so he thinks, he keeps busy every day trying not to think about it, but it's inevitable, you can't do that when it's something he wants so badly.
You were doing your usual work on laptop, trying to get rid of the thoughts in your head, even if only a little, you were scrolling through your e-mail box while slow jazz was playing in the background, writing down what you needed to write and dealing with the files you needed to handle.
"A young man fell into the base today! We walked around the hard deck and drank soda's. He was with for a while we had a lot of fun, but I think he misses his aunt y/n. I love you baby.💞"
The text came up with a picture of your husband with Jake's son, three of them smiling and Bradley holding some soda cans in his left arm and the right one is holding the boy's shoulder. It was beautiful and made your heart ache, a small smile appeared on your face,the voices and pain in your head seemed to be over, at least for a mimute, and you replied to the message, "I love you two!! Say hello to Jake for me.💓💓"
You stared at the picture for a few seconds, forgetting about the task in front of you.
The smile on Bradley's face was genuine, and he was holding the little boy with incredible familiarity, as if he already knew how to hold a child even though it wasn't his own.
Your phone hit the wooden table with a loud thud and you brought your hands up to your face, feeling tears of frustration falling from your eyes.
No, you were not jealous of them, in fact, you were very happy that they were pregnant with the third one, but why couldn't you?
This was unfair.
While God gave people the chance to have so many children, why couldn't you even have one?
And the saddest problem was,you.
Bradley was perfectly healthy, he could get a different woman pregnant, but he couldn't get you.
The house was quiet, unlike your head, thousands of things were going on every second.
You left your spot and went upstairs to take another pregnancy test with some hope.
It came out negative. Like always.
January 18, 2023.
You throw the four pregnancy tests you took ten minutes ago into the trash can and you hear Bradley sigh as he sits on the bed, hiding his face with his hands. You sit next to him.
“We just have to try harder.” He said, lifting his head to look at you and placing his hand comfortably on your knee.
“What does 'trying harder' mean?” you asked,with a hint of you wobble voice from the emotions. "We do this every day, especially when I'm ovulating, when I..."
"Baby, calm down." Bradley tells you and he just snorts in annoyance.
"Maybe...we could go to another doctor?" He gets down on one knee as if he's proposing, but you stand up and look at him as if he had three heads.
"Why should I go to the doctor? There is nothing wrong with me, we will have this baby, I know. Sooner or later." you exclaimed.
He stood up and took your hands in his, stroking your wrists.
"Of course we will, I have no doubt about that. But—it's better to know more, you know?"
"We're going to have this baby, Bradley. I am going to."
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Uh oh-
I AM SO SORRY FOR THIS CHAPTER BEING SO SHORT😭😭😭 and bad news it is progressively gets more sad.. And there is going to be timeline-
I'm tagging people who might be interested and some mutuals:@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @callsigns-haze @greenorangevioletgrass @teacupsandtopgun @roosterforme @floydsglasses @lyn-js @its-dee-lovely @its-the-pilot @friedchips94 @hardballoonlove @topguncortez @hangmanapologist @bradshawsbaddie @shanimallina87 @djs8891 @themusingofagothicsoul @els-marvelvsp @promisingyounglady @the-romanian-is-bae @mamachasesmayhem @jessicab1991 @iefitzgerald-blog @charcole-grey @waterriseslew @desert-fern @promisingyounglady and if you are not comfortable please tell me!!
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furiousgoldfish · 3 days
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Traumatized people are often advised to 'keep it under control' and 'find a way to contain it', and I always felt it was a fault of mine, if I freak out, or panic, or have an anxiety attack, or can't stop shaking or shivering. Now that I no longer have extreme bouts of panic, I'm starting to understand how much fear, panic and pain I contain within myself every day.
If I'm in a place that makes me anxious, I stay still, I do nothing. If I'm panicking, I will modify my behavior to the point where nobody around me will be able to see and realize that I'm panicking, I will seem happy, and pleasing. If I'm experiencing intense rage or frustration, I will shut down and won't respond or interact with anyone until I figure out what is a reasonable and logical thing to do. I am containing everything, constantly. And it's only a part of what I've been containing and keeping under control, I used to contain terror every day. I am used to circumstances where I had to act normal under threat of violence, threat to my life, every single day. I had to walk around like nothing is wrong while I was dissociating so heavily I couldn't tell if the world was even real. I was blaming myself if there was a momentary lapse of control, if the panic I was containing for months leaked out of me a little. The thought of not being able to keep it down terrified me.
I blamed myself for not being able to keep mountains of fear, grief, anger and panic under a guise, which a human being is not supposed to do. Our reactions of fear, panic and rage are there in order to point out that something is deeply wrong, that we're unsafe, that our circumstances need to change and we need safety, now. Keeping that shit contained and controlled is trying to bypass human instincts, fighting against human nature, and I did that, we all did that, because it was the only thing we were ever told to do with it. We'd be punished for anything else, threatened for any other kind of response that isn't containing and keeping it down.
And now when keeping it down is no longer humanely possible, because we did it for so long we wore our entire spirits down, now we get told we need to do more of it? More of pretense that things are fine, more of guilt and shame for not managing to be a closed human container of panic and pain? We were never supposed to keep that much in. Keeping all that inside and learning to control myself taught me to be what I am right now, keeping any inconvenient emotion down only so I could break down in private, or try to keep it down indefinitely, because I don't know any other way to live anymore. Fighting against my own instincts and fawning at others is just who I am now, and it's not who I'm supposed to be. Panic is supposed to be loud and alarming, pain is supposed to be heard, people are supposed to react with offering safety and change of circumstances that led to this. Not telling the scared, pained and panicked people to 'keep it down'.
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picturejasper20 · 2 days
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Lets talk about how Danny Phantom loves to push the idea of ¨these two characters must be together because destiny said so¨ and the implications of it!
Okay, for starters there is quite a lot of fans that agree how Danny and Sam gets forced into the show, specially in Season 3. They don't have much development in their relationship around the show because it was a 2000's Butch Hartman show and things have to keep the *status quo*
We know that Marmel wanted for more Valerie and Danny development but he couldn't for continuity issues and probably because Hartman wasn't fond of the ship. It took around 20 episodes for Valerie to have another episode about her since breaking up with Danny in ¨Flirting With Disaster¨.
I say that it makes a lot of sense of why Valerie and Danny's relationship didn't last long in this context because Danny was still keeping secrets from Valerie and still involved a lot of lying- not exactly the best condition to be dating with someone. So the best solution is for Valerie to learn who Danny is, and then after things get better, they probably can start getting into dating again, right?
Well, sorry, you can't see any of that because this happens in the very last episode of the series, we don't get to see how Valerie reacts to it and it doesn't matter because now Sam x Danny is canon!
Lets talk about that ring:
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What bothers me is how, while this episode is about Danny being into Valerie and dating her, the ring that Jack gives to Danny has the name ¨Sam¨ on it. It is like the universe in show is screaming at Danny and the audience ¨See these two are the endgame! Haven't you realized it yet? Well, we are leaving you 100% clear with this¨.
Sarcastic Chorus made a video talking about the show keeps hammering you again and again that Danny and Sam are ¨meant to be together¨ by having characters commenting how everyone can see that except Danny and Sam, who it isn't clear why they don't tell what they feel to each other. He talks about how it gets really frustrating because nothing is exactly happening, people are just waiting for something to happen.
Let's move to ¨Double Cross my Heart¨ we have Gregor/Elliot and Sam falling in love with each other. They seem to share a lot in common, being into similar things. Danny keeps thinking that Elliot is an spy from the GIW and he is after him. I could get into the implications of Danny stalking Sam in this episode, but the one thing i want to focus on is that by the end of the episode it does get revealed that Elliot had been faking to share similar interests to Sam and was lying to her about who he really was. Was it because he was a spy from GIW? Nope! It was because he was tricking her into falling in love with him.
What frustrates me about this is the implications this episode gives: ¨If anybody else that likes Sam that isn't Danny, then that means that they are faking it! Danny is the only one who can love Sam and everybody else is trying to trick her¨. It is such a bad message and it sucks a lot for Sam to find someone that is a lot like her and then the writing go ¨sorry, they are a faker¨.
At least for Danny and Valerie made sense because it wasn't intended to work in that context, in ¨Double Cross my Heart¨ it just does dirty to Sam by spitting back in her face any chance of liking someone else that isn't Danny.
And episode that leaves a similar bad taste in mouth to me is Masters of All Time.
I have talked about this before, that in the alternative timeline Vlad and Maddie end up getting married together. Because they didn't want the kids in the audience to think about the implications about how Vlad might have been happier and not turned out evil from the proto lab accident, they had to make human! Vlad go against most of his previous established characterization of his regular self (like not allowing Maddie to use ghost gadgets for some reason) and be an abusive caricature of himself.
It couldn't be that maybe Vlad and Maddie didn't work together well, they have to leave obvious that no, Vlad is the terrible option and that Maddie and Jack are meant to be together. So much so that it said by the characters in the episode!
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See, the writers made human! Vlad a piece of shit to leave clear that Maddie can only marry Jack. Because destiny told it so! It isn't like Jack and Maddie are their own people and they can choose whoever they want.
Yeah, Jack and Maddie have to get back together so Danny and Jazz don't become non-existent, but it find it so dumb that they made human! Vlad a weird ass copy of Disney Gaston instead of just writing it in a way that maybe these two clash being a couple. It could be that Maddie finds Vlad nice but Vlad is too busy always working or he isn't as fun as Jack was. Then Maddie realizes that she wants to be with Jack instead.
While having some fun elements, Masters of All Time is an episode that gets dumber and with more weird implications the more you think about it. And telling us that Jack and Maddie have to be together not matter what is one of the reasons.
I just dislike how weird this series is about how ¨destiny told these two characters have to be together¨ and not treating the characters as something they choose to do. It is also weird how this seems to apply to the female characters, in how Sam and Maddie, the moment they like someone else that isn't Danny nor Jack, then it turns out that person has to be abusive or be faking it. Itis like the show says they ¨belong¨ to Jack and Danny and they can't be with anyone else because then it would be bad. It is as a whole pretty frustrating
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moodymisty · 2 days
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AAAAAA COULD YOU PLEASE MAYBE WRITE SOME CONTENT OF DAD! ROBOUTE WITH HIS S/O AFTER THEY HAVE KIDS? I WOULD BE SUPER MEGA ULTRA GRATEFUL!! THANK YOU!!
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[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]
Author's note: Here you go, enjoy some cute dadboute content :3
Relationships: Roboute Guilliman/Fem!Reader
Warnings: None really other than the implication of a dangerous pregnancy
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“So, where is the little lady?”
Sanguinus crosses his arms casually over his chest, ignoring the sound of weapons clanking against each other. Guilliman does much the same.
“She is in our quarters resting still. The medicae insisted bedrest after he was born.” Sanguinus takes his words seriously, he was one of the only people Guilliman confided his worried about you in. However he also smiles, which Guilliman finds odd until he speaks.
“I imagine it must be a bit frustrating, having to be away from them.” Many of the Primarchs have struggled to contain their jealousy regarding Guilliman’s love, but Sanguinus is kind; He doesn’t doubt he’ll find someone soon.
“Believe me, I would much rather be there than here with you lot.”
Sanguinus smiles wider.
“Horus and Russ both have wandered off, I’ll keep a secret if you want to go see her.”
Guilliman doesn’t need it to be kept a secret, but knowing that Sanguinus will keep the other Primarchs at bay so he can enjoy a moment with his new son is more than appreciated. He gives Sanguinus a nod and takes his leave, the angel's eyes lingering on him for a few moments before looking away.
Each step closer to his quarters makes Guilliman just that bit more relieved, until he sees you in bed. Your child rests in your arms, asleep while you work on something on a dataslate. The medicae had specified plenty of bedrest for you as your body recovered, and he’s relived you’re taking it to heart.
He had also specifically said not to sleep with you for a while, nor get you pregnant until you were completely healed, which had embarrassed Guilliman greatly.
Hearing him enter the massive room you look up, setting the dataslate aside to give him your full attention. You do so gently to avoid shaking the baby in your arms, who does little more than make a few grumbles as you shift.
“You’re back soon, did things end early?” He comes closer and shakes his head, after kneeling at the side of the bed.
“I left for a moment to see you.” You smile, but it's coated in over-exaggerated suspicion.
“The Guilliman I know would never miss or skip out on a meeting. You must be an imposter.”
You seem in bright spirits joking and teasing him, but Guilliman knows well that the child of a primarch nearly killed you- and that you’re still more than likely in pain. He leans down to gently press a chaste kiss to your forehead.
“Perhaps I have been. And the others were none the wiser.”
Guilliman looks down at his child in your arms and gently moves his hand close, brushing a knuckle across his cheek.
"You should come back in an hour or two when he’s up to eat and put him back to sleep,” You say, and Guilliman gives you a sour look that makes you giggle.
Quite quickly you’ve learned that Guilliman’s voice seems to put your child right to sleep, something you’ve endlessly teased him about. While his voice is something you'll never tire of in its deep and dulcet tone, he can quickly become drone and monotonous depending on subject matter.
“Let me get a copy of this months expenditure for the Ultramarines and I’ll return to read it.” You would ask him to hold his child, but you know he’s still nervous about it. He’s still so small; Guilliman worries about his strength. You don’t push it, but you know he’s showing his love in other ways.
“Quite the bedtime story,” You look up at him as he cups his hand around your child’s side.
“You jest, but in my youth my father or mother would tell me about old Macraggian wars before bed.” Guilliman's eyes look away from his child for only a moment to see you scoff.
“Old battle tales are a bit different than a spending document, Roboute.”
Guilliman can’t help but soften his face. He’s so used to hearing his family name or titles; Guilliman, Lord Guilliman, Lord Primarch. He enjoys when he hears you say his name with such softness.
A knock on the door startles you, but you know Guilliman had heard whoever it was coming well before.
“Lord Guilliman? I apologize for the disturbance Lord Dorn is asking for you.” Guilliman sighs.
“I will be there momentarily.”
He looks to you and reaches a hand up to cup your face. You lean into it, smiling and enjoying the warmth of his palm against your skin. Leaning in he presses a kiss to your lips, and stays perhaps longer than he should have. He can hear you contently sigh until he pulls away, and leans to give a kiss to the top of his sleeping son’s head.
“You keep resting. Both of you.”
He looks harshly at you, almost scolding you preemptively. He glares at you as you roll your eyes, but there’s no true discontent behind his expression.
“Love you too, Roboute.”
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norman-fucking-reedus · 14 hours
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HE ATE MY HEART (I LOVE THAT GIRL)
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gif by @corvidcrossbow
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IM SO FUCKING EXCITED TO FINALLY HAVE SOMETHING TO POST ON HERE AND ALSO TO POST SOMETHING TO THIS SONG
Vamp!Daryl has rotted not only my brain but the community. I am not sorry at all for the plague I'm spreading and I hope that it only gets worse.
So I've been doing some research on it, and I really like the idea of mixing the Blade universe w TWD, I did some more research on the different types of vampires (its kind of a lot so if you want you can go read abt them here!) To basically summarize, there's people, daywalkers (half vamp-people), walkers, full vampires, and then Revenants (half-walker half vampire, basically just another way to die)
This also makes it easier for whenever Scud becomes my next vampy victim
AUUUGH I NEED MY HOT SEXY NEEDY VAMPIRE MAN WHO JUST WANTS TO DRINK ALL MY BLOOD SOMEONE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE FUCKING PLEASE
also I am working on reqs yes I am, I have one scud fic that is dirty and nasty and should be getting posted soon. also I may not be on tumblr as much as I used to be because GUYS I am now employed yes that's right I got off my computer, went outside, interacted with people, and got a job #gangshit
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It had been over a week since Daryl had eaten, and over two since he had left to go out on the community's monthly supply run.
As he stumbled through the opening gates, he felt like he had been through a war. His body was wracked with exhaustion, weakness, and hunger. The air was thick with the strong scent of blood, and he couldn't keep himself from groaning painfully when he was bombarded by Carol and Rick asking where he had been, what had taken so long, and if he was alright.
“No! M’not alright dammit” He barked at them in frustration after being asked for the third time if he was alright, his voice laced with irritation and discomfort. Carol couldn't help but notice his pale and clammy appearance.
Her forehead creased into a frown as she tightly pursed her lips, giving Daryl a scolding look that made him uneasy. With a tone of concern, she asked, "I'm worried. When was the last you fed?"
The man's face twisted in discomfort as Rick and Carol stood in his space. He scoffed and muttered, "Not recently, m'fuckin' starvin'" The longer he stayed, the more his head spun and his vision blurred, causing the corners of his eyes to fade into a deep red color. His stomach churned uncomfortably, and he could feel his teeth starting to ache.
Rick observed Daryl's malnourished skin, staring at how he was almost transparent. His eyes were screwed shut as the sun harshly burned his sensitive orbs, and he was gripping the strap of his crossbow so hard that his fingers were starting to turn red.
"You should go see Y/n," Rick said, eyes fixed on his friend. "She should be back home and she's been asking about you. I think she misses you." Daryl's body tensed at the sound of your name, and a sudden chill ran down his spine, causing goosebumps to rise on his arms. He tried to hide his reaction, but Rick's sharp eyes didn't miss a thing.
Daryl's head drooped weakly as he could only manage a feeble nod. Rick and Carol had stepped off to the side for him, offering their silent support. Carol placed her hand gently on his shoulder, her grey hair falling across her face as she did so. Rick, with his stern expression, gave Daryl a look that he knew meant there was no room for argument.
His senses were already heightened to an extreme level, almost at an overload as the sun was abnormally bright, almost blinding him, and the heat was scorching his skin. The texture of his vest was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, causing his already aching teeth to grind against each other. He could feel his razor-sharp fangs digging into the tender skin of his bottom lip, further adding to his discomfort.
His senses were already heightened to an extreme level, almost at an overload as the sun was abnormally bright, blazing down on him with a blinding intensity, making it difficult for him to even keep his eyes open. He could feel the heat searing his skin, causing beads of sweat to form on his forehead and trickle down his face. He noticed the way that his vest rubbed uncomfortably against him, the fabric clinging to his skin and making him feel sticky and irritable. His already aching teeth began to grind down against each other, and he could feel his razor-sharp fangs digging into the tender skin of his bottom lip, further fueling his pure discomfort.
Each step he took in the direction of your house was tiring and heavy, his dirty, muddy boots slapping against the ground as he dragged himself through the streets, promptly ignoring any strangle or judgy looks that were thrown his way. He didn't have the time, let alone the strength to even bother paying them any mind. His stomach churned as his overwhelmed nose couldn't help but pick up the sickeningly sweet smell of blood.
It forced him to quicken his pace, trying to get just as far away from the public eye as he possible could. He didn't want to be looked at, didn't want to be stared at. He just wanted to get inside as soon as fucking possible and just tear off all his goddamn clothes. A ping of hope struck through him when he could see your familiar house only a short distance down the road, having to hold himself back from flat-out sprinting the rest of the way there.
Though it was only about a thirty-second walk, it had been the longest in his whole entire life, and walking up the small steps of your porch was like something out of a nightmare. He could disgustingly feel the material change in flooring when he stepped off the pavement and onto the creaky wood, the sound grating against his now way too-sensitive ears. Dear god, would someone fucking help him already?
Of course, as if on cue, the red front door to your house swung open, but instead of being met with a friendly face, he was met with the barrel of your gun.
"Daryl?" You questioned as you lowered the weapon slightly, a smile stretching across your lips once you had confirmed who was standing and dicking around on your porch. "Daryl!" You fully dropped your defensive position, stuffing the weapon in the band of your pants as you prepared to throw yourself at the man, halting when you finally took in his ruined appearance.
His breathing was labored, and it was hard to keep himself upright on his own two legs, forcing him to lean against the wall by the door. "Hey doll"
You scoffed at him in disbelief, "Don't you dare even "hey doll" me, mister! What the hell happened to you? Get in here right now" Grabbing the front of his vest and pulling his heavy body inside, Daryl groaning as each movement caused pain to his body, slumping against the door when you slammed it shut.
He couldn't be happier when he felt you prying the buttons of his stupidly itchy vest off, him shrugging it off as well as his crossbow, clattering down on the floor and probably chipping the metal further.
"Jesus Daryl, you look fucking terrible. Did you feed on anything at all out there?" You purse your lips as you analyze and checked his unnaturally pale chest, letting out a surprised hiss at the burn lingering on your fingers tips from where you had brushed them against the skin of his shoulder
Daryl groaned as you directed him to sit on the couch, the short steps from the front door already leaving him utterly winded, almost dripping in sweat as he wheezed each breath of air.
“‘Wasn’t much… ‘wasn’t much out there” He spoke breathlessly, head spinning and his stomach loudly churning when you stood in fromt of him.
When you extended a hand out to cup his face, he tightly gripped your wrist with a shaky hand. “Don’. Please don’” He didn’t want to feed from you, not like this, not in a state where he couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t absolutely drain you.
“Daryl” You whispered softly, frowning slightly as you started taking your shirt off, and he wanted to scream at your stubbornness.
You straddled his lap and gently brushed the hair sticking to his forehead off, his blue eyes starting to tint red as the smell of your blood was strong, right in his face. “I don’ wanna”
“I know you don’t sweetheart, but you’ll die. What am I gonna do if you die?” You cupped his face, forcing his gaze onto yours. He whimpered slightly at your touch, his whole body sensitive and reactive.
Daryl shivered when you combed fingers through his hair, hands curling around your hips when you directed his head to your neck. “I trust you, more than I even trust myself” You whispered soothingly into his ear, and he almost wanted to cry.
He could smell the blood coursing through you like it was a burning candle, and his mouth was uncontrollably watering. His fangs were sharp and heavy, aching with the need to sink into your skin, which is exactly what he did, groaning against you at the first drops of blood, not wasting against another second before he was greedily taking mouthfuls.
It was so good, so warm and fresh, sweet and bitter. Daryl had drank lots of blood before, and yours was easily his favorite. He craved it during his time out there, not just because there was a serious lack in wild animals, but because it was addictive.
He squeezed your hips, soft and pillowy in his buzzing palms as he could feel himself starting to get hard in his pants, the more blood he swallowed the more drunk he got.
It made you feel good to watch his natural tan color fade back, his scarred back no longer a ghastly pale. You ran your fingers through his hair, occasionally curling your fingers and gripping the dark locks to grind down against his now-straining cock.
Daryl made soft, small sounds as he fed, each roll of your hips making each gulp of your blood taste so much better. His senses were at an all-time high, overwhelmed and at an absolute edge. He couldn’t help the way his hands pressed you down on his cock, hips desperately jerking against you as he could feel himself getting closer and closer, his head spinning in a blood lust haze.
He was so close, so very fucking close. His sharp claws had made themselves known, and you jolted when they painfully curled into your flesh, hips sputtering and slightly faltering in their movements. Daryl had no problem picking up the slack, almost fucking you right through his pants from how hard he was rutting up into you.
It was just all so much, his whole body on fire with pure arousal as he sighed around a final mouthful of crimson, trembling from his core as his orgasm washed over him, pressing your clothed cunt against him as hard as he could, making his already fuzzy mind draw a complete blank, a loud groan tearing from his throat that caused his fangs to slip out from where he had punctured the skin and drop his head against your shoulder, whimpering softly as he held you down.
You scratched his scalp comfortingly, feeling a little woozy from the amount of blood he had taken. He hummed against you as he started to come down from not only the high of his orgasm but bubbly buzz from his feast.
“Feel better?” You asked in a quiet, sleepy voice when Daryl’s tongue cleaned the drops of blood that had leaked from the small wounds, coating the area in his saliva so that it could heal.
He nodded as peppered you in appreciative and apologetic kisses, pulling you flush against his bare chest by wrapping his arms around your back, claws retracted and replaced with blunt nails. “M’sorry fer hurtin’, ya”
“Instead, you should be sorry for not feeding yourself, mister” You said as you shook your head, pinching his side as you got a bit upset again. “You know it scares me shitless when you do that”
“I know, I know. M’sorry for tha’ too” Daryl grumbled, feeling fatigued as well now that his tummy was full and satiated. His body was still weak and needed rest, now yours did as well considering he had taken a lot more than usual. “I’ll make it up to ya’” He said as he pushed himself up off the couch, grunting as it was a lot harder with tired muscles and one hand keeping his woman wrapped around him, adding a second once he was finally standing.
You giggled at that, arms hooked around his neck. “And just how will you do that?”
“Got a real good idea” Daryl smirked, hoisting you up as he ascended up the stairs to your shared bedroom, hungry for something else that was much better than blood.
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I started writing this a few days ago I think this is the quickest I've written something
Vamp!Daryl is an absolute need. I'm loving every single post I see of him and I love watching the disease spread faster than fucking covid I jump for joy when I see someone I don't even know talking abt him is this what fame feels like is this what its like to be famous am I fucking famous
yes you do want more of this so go read more
Bloodthirsty @dixons-sunshine
Bite me @mydearestdaryl
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thalialunacy · 2 days
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[for the @calaisreno May Promptadoodledoo; land o Goshen, this was a tough one, so thanks for sticking with me]
(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) 12: family (13)
Breach imminent
MH
Sherlock groans, shoving his phone between couch cushions and drawing a sleeping Rosie closer to him. 
'Bad news?' John asks from his chair. He looks over his reading glasses at where Sherlock is curled around his daughter, and feels affection sting so hard in his chest that he absently rubs at it.
'The worst,' Sherlock answers sullenly
John runs through the likely options in his head, then goes with his gut. 'Your parents are coming to town?'
Sherlock opens his eyes and stares at John, his expression full of surprise, then affection, then shammy casualness. 'I have been a good influence on your deduction skills, clearly.' 
John chuckles. 'That, or your brother advised me to clear my calendar and clean the flat.'
'Meddling queen,' Sherlock mutters into Rosie's hair. Then his phone pings again. 
I haven't told them.
MH
John doubles down. 'He knows, I take it? About our… development?' 
'You are doing very well today.' 
'Feelings, Sherlock. I'm good at people and their feelings.'
'Yes, yes, that's why I keep you around. Of course he knows; I let him keep the surveillance up in the stairwell in exchange for having none in here.' 
'Ah.' John had suspected as much, though admittedly he had not considered it at the time of the first (very unplanned) tryst. 'Has he told your parents?' 
'Apparently not.' 
Silence stretches. They've come a long way, but John feels too keenly the risk/reward scenario here, and is undecided.
This time it's John's phone that pings. 
It's up to you, of course, but rest assured: they would be inordinately pleased. 
MH
John's eyebrow quirks. 'Your parents like me?' he finally says, going for casual but missing, and he knows it. 
'You're very likeable.'
'You know, from anyone else that would be a compliment.' 
Sherlock doesn't answer beyond a grunt. It's somehow safe to have this conversation in this arrangement, with the comforting stretch of the room and the gorgeous sleeping toddler between them. They're connected, but not so much as to overwhelm. 
'How much time have we got, do you reckon?' John asks, almost to the air.
'Far too little,' Sherlock grumbles.
'Right, but from you that could mean three months.'
'Yes, well, seeing as your birthday is in two weeks, but tis the season of primroses so they have to schedule us in between, I'm surmising it to be about three hours, in actuality.'
John snorts. 'That's a bit harsh.'
'No, no, they're beautiful primroses.'
'Hang on,' John says suddenly, running back through what Sherlock has said. 'They know when my birthday is?'
'Of course.'
'They care when my birthday is?'
'Don't be daft.'
'I'm trying, but they hardly know me. And what they know of me is not altogether flattering.'
'I said don't be daft.'
John can't stop a frustrated noise. 'Then explain it better.'
Sherlock opens his eyes, considers him for a moment, then he breaks eye contact and buries his nose in Rosie's hairline. 'They know of my affections for you. And that's enough for them.'
John's breath deserts him for a moment. 'Sherlock…'
'Don't let's make a big thing out of it, please.'
John wants to laugh. It's already literally the biggest thing in his life. 'Alright,' he says instead. 'But... let me be the one to tell them, yeah?'
Sherlock goes very still, not lifting his gaze. 'You'd be amenable to that?'
Sod this, it's been long enough. John shunts his reading glasses aside and stands, listening to his bones crick as he crosses and crouches in front of the two most important people in his orbit. 'Yeah, course.' He presses his lips against Rosie's forehead, then Sherlock's, without hesitation. 'Try and get rid of me.'
Sherlock finally, finally meets his eyes, and John feels so much he wants to tackle both of them and just cocoon for a little while. Tell the world to bugger off.
So, of course, there's a knock at the door. Sherlock groans, and Rosie's face scrunches up in the universal expression of, "How dare you wake me up, you rude creature."
'Three hours?' John says while scooping his daughter out of Sherlock's embrace. She needs a change. Maybe he should use that baby magic and let Sherlock's parents do it, he thinks with a grin.
'I am not in control of all variables, unfortunately,' Sherlock mutters into the sofa, where he's pressed his face.
John's mouth curves into a smirk as he heaves up (bloody hell, getting older is not for the weak) and turns towards the door. He wishes fleetingly that Sherlock was behind him, in solidarity if nothing else.
Then, suddenly, he is, his mouth pressing against Rosie's sleep-rumpled cheek over John's shoulder. He doesn't turn to John, but he doesn't have to. 'Into battle?'
John nods, then reaches for the door.
[❤️]
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gin-juice-tonic · 2 days
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I've been thinking a lot about gender identity and stuff lately, but to my shame I’m not the most educated person when it comes to lgbt related stuff. Every time I try to search it to learn more I end up freaking out and clearing my browsing history because of the feeling of being watched. I know I’m being unreasonable, but it’s stronger than me. I don’t have anyone to ask about this kind of stuff. Everyone around me is negative about lgbt, I grew up among this negativity. I’m afraid to ask my online friends because I don’t want to seem ignorant or stupid. What have I decided to do? Send an anonymous ask to a stranger about my concerns (sorry about that), whose blog helped me to accept the fact that I might not be who I though I was at the first place. It feels more safe. Back to the point.
As a teen I used she/they pronouns and a different gender-neutral name online for years. I still do it as an adult and now I realise that “she” was more like a compromise for me because it was what I used to be referred as for my whole life, but didn’t feel quite comfortable with. So it’s they/them for me, I guess. Okay. I’ve always preferred to not be related to any gender, but now I see that there’s more to it. I might be a nonbinary, but what if I’m actually an agender? I also consider the possibility of being a genderfluid because one moment I wear a dress and think that it looks good, and the other moment I cry in front of a mirror because of the idea of wearing it. So yeah, it depends on my mood. I don’t know how it works. I’m just so confused. The only thing I know that I’m not comfortable with being referred to as a female anymore. I’ve never really been.
Admittedly, as someone who is binary trans, I do not have a lot of knowledge in this area. I do know what it’s like to not know what you’re “supposed to be” though. And I know it can be frustrating and scary to be lost in trying to figure out your own identity. 
I asked some of my friends, who are nonbinary and genderfluid themselves, and the first thing we all have to say is you should allow yourself more kindness. I am sorry that you grew up around so much negativity. But I want you to know that it’s both okay to feel afraid but also okay to not know everything. If a friend is going to treat you badly for asking questions, they’re not a very good friend. 
One of my friends says the part you said about “making compromises” resonated a lot with them a lot, so you aren’t alone there. As for how you feel in a dress, clothes do not equal gender. You can like how you look in a dress without any of it having to do with girl-ishness. I suggest you try to think about why you like it when you do, and why you don’t when you don’t. My friends also suggested trying other clothes you can express yourself with. Think about why you like them, or why you don’t like them. (Of course, sometimes the answer has nothing to do with gender. I like athletic clothing because they make me look sporty, which is a neutral thing. But it’s good to know what parts aren’t related to gender at all too.) That extends beyond clothes too, any part of your presentation that you think you can play with without getting yourself into danger, you should. 
It’s tempting to feel like you have to scramble to figure out a label. Especially when advice and other people you can talk to can feel sort of “grouped” under them. And there’s a lot of knowledge to be gained that way for sure. But there’s a lot of knowledge to be gained just in figuring out what you do and don’t like. What makes you feel bad, what makes you feel at ease, what makes you super excited. You‘ve got it nailed down that you don’t like being called a female, that’s not a bad start! 
If your friends are people you think are good and kind, I would suggest reaching out to them so that you can explore things a little more with them, considering they know you better than I would. I know it's scary, but there's nothing wrong with not knowing things, and I hope they'd be aware of that too. And even if you call yourself something now and explore more into it, there's no harm if in the future it doesn't fit so good. There's no wrong way to be a gender, and more importantly there's no wrong way to be you.
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ryuichirou · 3 days
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I’ll start with some news.
I am currently locked out of my twitter account. We did everything we could to try to get it back, but no matter what happens, it will most likely take some time.
I don’t like bringing attention to this kind of stuff because we have tons of other things to talk about which are more important than some toddlers trying to obliterate us for 1000th time (frankly I would rather talk about the colour of Leona’s butthole), but this time it’s kind of serious and important. We don’t know what’s going to happen next, but for now I wanted to say that if we won’t get the account back in time or will lose it indefinitely, we will have to ask for your help. I am sorry for that in advance.
Also, if you were discussing/working on commissions with me via DMs there, please email me or contact me via any other platform as soon as possible. Just in case.
Mass-reporting is wild, eh?
I am rambling a bit, and I didn’t really want to complain, because I know for a fact it would give satisfaction to some people, but you know? I am going to complain: it sucks ass. It happened at the worst time possible and it happened over nothing (literally, the art that got it was a Todd/Wallace non-sexual piece that got too many likes for children’s liking). I don’t care if people don’t like us, I don’t care if they gossip with their girlies about us, all I want is for them to leave us the fuck alone and let us do our thing in peace. Imagine being so unbelievably boring and so incredibly unlikeable and unable to make meaningful connections not only with other people but also with any kind of media that you just have to go out of your way to ruin things for others because this is the only thing that makes your immature brain produce something that even remotely resembles joy. Because your own pathetic self is so deeply insecure and constantly frustrated at yourself that you just have to create an illusion of control over someone else to feel important. I can’t even call it a troll behavior – at least trolls are funny sometimes. This is just someone who hit a midlife crisis at the age of 16 and made it my problem for some reason.  
And yet, it’s okay. Even if we end up losing our account, it’ll be a huge disappointment and it will hurt us tremendously, it already did. And it’s scary to think about this scenario, and it’s difficult to talk about how, if it happens, that it’s going to be okay. But eventually we’ll get over it and build ourselves up again, just like we did before several times. And these clowns will still be boring, unlikeable, lonely and very likely shit at drawing.
So yeah. Take care of yourself and block everyone who seems suspicious on sight. It’s not a panacea, but certainly is helpful.
Alright, time to talk about Leona’s butthole (not really, but we will talk about SebeMal, and it’s even better) 💪
Anonymous asked:
Seeing Vanitas made me curious about something: did you ever read Pandora Hearts? I think for a lot of people that series went hand in hand with Black Butler as the main "victorian aesthetic mangas" from the late '00/early '10. Gothic lolitas really had it all back then..
Ohh you’re so right Anon, it was the ultimate late ‘00/early ’10 aesthetic! Boys in vests with bows/ties, crosses and rosaries and traumatic and problematic backstories lol I really miss it sometimes. What an era.
I personally haven’t read/watched Pandora Hearts, but Katsu did! But it was even before we met… So my only association with this title is that Katsu’s old username was “ozbezariusnya” 🥰 Oh, and that Gilbert (?) looks very cute, but let’s be honest, of course I would think he is cute.
nebula-ryuu asked:
Regarding my question, I mean if the Malleus and Sebek ship has a dynamic or a context 😅😅 a background or a story. I have a certain feeling about what it is like but I don't want to affirm anything hehe
I don't know if I made what I said better understood, in any case I can explain it again, no problem 🙏
Oh! Thank you for clarifying!
As for our background for shipping them, we just really really love loyal characters that are a bit unhinged about their loyalty and love/obsession. So we didn’t even have a choice, they stole our hearts… and Malleus is very interesting in his interactions with Sebek too; he is annoyed by him sometimes, but he tolerates a lot and teases him.
As for the ship itself, we tend to think that in addition to Sebek being loyal and obsessive with Malleus, he is also deeply in love with him ever since he was a child. He is conflicted because he really wants to be his lover, but also thinks that he isn’t worthy. Malleus is amused by Sebek and allows him to do much more than he probably should. Actually, I think I talked about their dynamic in this post!
I hope I understood you correctly. Thank you for your question! And if you have any more questions, please let me know.
Anonymous asked:
would Lilia and Azul ever fight over who gets to have Idia?
Replied here! Thank you for your question, Anon.
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etherealspacejelly · 3 days
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does anyone else find it really difficult and frustrating trying to infodump to people? like. either i just get going and they change the subject or they seem really uninterested, or they dont understand that i dont want to talk about the Facts about my special interest i want to talk about my Opinions and the way it makes me Feel
someone will be like oh hey infodump to me about doctor who. tell me some doctor who facts. and im like. ok thats great and i appreciate you encouraging me to talk about it but. i dont Know that many facts off the top of my head. what i Want to tell you about is how there are so many Ruby and Rose parallels and that the use of puppets for the Meep and the Goblin King and the Stooky Babbies was really cool because practical effects give the actors something physical to react to so their performance is more engaging and believable and how the platonic relationship between the Doctor and Donna is especially compelling to me as an aroace person and and and
you know??
but they expect me to be like. idk. rattling off facts about the series and the writers and the episodes and its like. no!!! i dont want to tell you exactly how many episodes the weeping angels have featured in i want to tell you that Blink was really creative in its story telling because it barely features the Doctor at all!! and the scene where Sally talks to the recording and the conversation finally makes sense is so cool and interesting!! and we really get to know these characters over the course of just one episode and then we never see them again!!
its just so Frustrating because i want to infodump so bad all the time but i hate feeling like im boring people or that im infodumping Wrong and i always end up being the person everyone infodumps to because im a really good listener but when i do it i always end up either talking to myself or writing about it on tumblr.
i just. idk sorry for the vent im just kind of upset because i was really excited about the new doctor who episodes and a friend invited me to talk about it and just. ended up asking if theres ever been a character with my brothers name because there was one with my sisters name and now im upset because i dont know!! and i dont care!! thats not what i wanted to talk about!!
ugh
i think i might be on the verge of a meltdown and it feels so stupid but. this Always happens
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cb97percent · 2 days
Text
「Screw It」 · Chapter 2
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HIS SECOND THOUGHTS ➥ Chris is supposed to 'let loose' at the biannual depravity festival a.k.a the Sigma Kappa mixer.
➥ The author chooses not to issue tags for everything that takes place in this work to preserve some element of surprise where applicable. By continuing, you accept to proceed at your own risk. Read full disclaimer here.
➥ Installment of The Red Lights Chronicles
⚠ — Discussions of virginity (see masterlist for more)
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“How the fuck is everyone so natural at this?” Chris quickly scanned the large room, his face contorted in mild shock.
The entire place was buzzing with laughter and varying levels of sleaziness. People talking to one another way too closely, dancing a bit too intimately, licking salt off each other’s necks and what have you…
Then you had the Holmes-Watson duo at the secluded corner of the bar, looking way too serious like they were discussing politics over brandy in the late 1800s.
“Did you notice how the guys are exchanging their dick game testimonials?”
“WHAT?! No?”
“That’s because they don’t!” Jisung slid another shot glass towards his friend and raised his for a toast, “Everyone’s just following their instincts, my man. It’s called thinking with your dick.”
It was frustratingly easy to tell someone (not) to do something, wasn’t it? Oh, don’t worry about it. Change your perspective. Don’t let it get to you. Turn a blind eye. Don’t be depressed. 
Actually doing it, though? Goddamn monk patience right there.
It wasn’t like Chris was incapable of assigning the driver’s seat to his reproductive parts. If anything, his mind was way too preoccupied with it, but strictly when he was alone rather than in public functions like this. A force of habit to be ‘proper’. Every time he was about to get physical with someone, that same footage installed itself in his jumbotron inner-mind theater like a cruel foreshadowing of what was about to go down. 
Getting scarred once isn’t enough? Try the latest Christopheresque methods of self-torture for a chance to win a gift card!
In conclusion, no, he couldn’t figure out a way to ‘not let it get to him’.
He was trying, and god fucking knows he wanted to remove that bothersome splinter buried six feet under his façade, but something always seemed to conveniently get in the way.
This one’s too chatty. That one’s on TikTok. This one thinks it’s okay to say ‘irregardless’. That one wears too much lime green.
As if any of that was fundamentally important for sexual chemistry. But he couldn’t help it. 
The more time passed by, the bigger his inadequacy complex grew since he wasn’t able to, quote, ‘stack up those XP points when he could.’ Now it seemed too late like he missed some important deadline, and the whole thing was a piece of gum stuck to his shoes, continuously faltering him and making cringeworthy noises when he walked.
You. Suck. You. Suck. You. Suck.
Maybe pursuing doctoral education was just a massive overcompensation on his part, who knows? 
“It’s not rocket science, man, just…” Jisung mimed something that was supposed to be his soul leaving his body, “Let loose.”
“Let… loose,” Chris echoed his words while zoning out, but his mind was simply not cooperating with him to be present, “Shit! I needed to revise my syllabus.”
“My god you’re a nerd,” Jisung looked at him in utter disbelief, then sought help from Minho behind the bar, “Ares package. Make it two.”
While ten shots of Wet Pussies were being prepared, he examined Chris’ distracted face. Channie boy was like this for as long as Jisung knew the guy. Stubborn. Headstrong. Latching onto everything he could find to repair his pride. Of course it didn’t mean shit to be a virgin regardless of where you were in the adult timeline, but instead of admitting how much it was bothering him, Chris was pretending to be at peace with it. That was the frustrating part. And if he weren’t spectacularly failing at it, Jisung wouldn’t even consider dragging his ass to every social gathering he could find, but simply talking to the man did not seem to be working anymore. This bootleg immersion therapy was his last resort before he brought up the alternative of escorts again and risked getting punched in the face.
Or worse, another seminar on the ethics of sex work.
“Stop sabotaging yourself,” Jisung slapped him on the shoulder, “Just enjoy the moment for once.”
Why, I’d love to see a step-by-step demonstration of that, Chris wanted to loudly roll his eyes but pumped the brakes at the last second. He wasn’t even mad at Jisung. He wasn’t mad at anyone actually. The only person he loathed with a burning passion was himself for making a huge deal out of something that was supposed to be so damn trivial. He raised his shot for a silent toast and downed all five back to back to take all the residual edge off.
He didn’t want to fucking think anymore.
“She seems cool,” Jisung nodded towards a girl surrounded by what looked like the distant cousins of the Kardashians.
“I don’t think so,” Chris immediately protested, “Looks like she would livetweet it.”
“How about her?”
“GOD no. Too much Slytherin energy.”
“How is that even—?”
“Not the Lestrange kind. Pass,” Chris leveraged Jisung’s one weakness, “You know what, I thi—”
“Fucking stop overthinking this, or I’m gonna risk it all and slap the shit out of you,” he held onto Chris’ broad as fuck shoulders and harshly shook him, “Tonight we’re letting loose. Say it, what are we gonna do?”
“Let–Let loose.”
“With feeling.”
“Let loose.”
“DIG DEEP!”
“LET LOOSE!”
“Can I be a part of that?”
The duo was startled to death when they heard an unfamiliar voice next to them, not to mention right in the middle of a mortifying pep talk. The commandments of Wingmanism dictated doing the preliminary eliminations on behalf of your bro, immediately prompting Jisung to turn on his radar.
Looks? Check. Locked phone? Check. Lack of lime green? Check. 
Without giving Chris the chance to make a dumbass argument, he approved of this candidate and nudged the prospective coupling of the night towards the couch. When he turned to the bar again, he heaved a huge sigh as if he had just put the kids to bed.
“Still trying to get him laid?” Minho asked with a faded sneer.
“I’m gonna die with my eyes open if I depart this world without seeing it,” Jisung hyperbolically gestured, but one look at the gorgeous cheekbones in front of him, and his whole entire personality changed, “But more importantly, whatchu doing later tonight?”
“Damn, they don’t do pleasantries where you’re from?”
“Come on, you like me,” he leaned forward, the smile on his face impossible not to reciprocate, “Why do you drag me around so much? I’m obviously simping for you.”
“You realize I’m holding a sharp object.”
“That’s your version of batting eyelashes. Everybody knows that.”
As much as he wanted to keep the psychotically stoic mask, something about the quokka dude was just plain irresistible. Careful not to give a hundred percent of what he wanted, Minho let out a snort and darted his eyes away.
“Ask me again in two hours and we’ll see.”
Jisung triumphantly slammed his hand on the bar top, scaring the shit out of his porcelain prince, then disappeared into the crowd to mingle with some of his friends.
Meanwhile on the blue corner, Chris was midway through one of the most intense mental statistics of his life.
The girl in front of him was a total ten. He knew a couple of guys who would murder him in cold blood just to get with someone like her. One needed to have inoperable astigmatism not to notice she was encouraging him to… well, let loose. Her body language was clearly indicative of willingness. Touching his arm, playing with her hair, laughing at a genuinely unfunny joke—if he made a move now, she would leave with him. 
Ergo, p < 0.05. Possibility of score: 97%.
“Do you think we can take this somewhere… more private?” the nameless girl finally brought it up herself when Chris failed to mention anything remotely evocative of sex. It was a simple yes or no question, but he was choking harder than B-Rabbit in 8 Mile.
She was objectively so damn hot with the kind of body you would brag about in locker rooms. That was supposed to be his focal point, but he was having trouble focusing on her words, let alone being turned on. All he could think about was how this conversation couldn’t be any more boring, and he had endured a finance lecture once. Nothing was ever going to come out of bedding this girl tonight. Even her perfume smelled like the looming regret of the morning after. 
There had to be something fundamentally wrong with him at this point.
Uh oh, do something. She’s getting closer, DO SOMETHING!
“OKAY, I’m gonna go,” he jumped to his feet, giving no fucks about providing a reasonable explanation, and almost booked it towards the front door.
“Chris?” Jisung called out after him with slight concern, but Chris had half a mind to set fire to this place. Everything, everyone, all of it was suddenly too much.
“Later, bro.”
Only when he reached the safe bubble of his home did his heartbeat slow down to a normal rhythm, letting him heave a half-relieved half-disappointed sigh behind that closed door. Shower was the least of his priorities at that moment—he went straight to his room, got naked, threw himself to his bed, and started scrolling through his phone to find something to jerk off and sleep.
Art, art, gif, gif, art, text post, incorrect quote, gif, gif, art…
Then…
bassboostedjiscake reblogged: Closeted sluts living under a rock, check out my girl. Creaming guaranteed 🍦
Jisung was the horniest guy he knew, so if he dropped this on Chris’ dashboard, it must have been at least worth taking a look. He clicked on the profile thinking he was going to be greeted by Jisung’s newest favorite ‘adult content creator’ posting semi-nudes, however—
🌶️Oni @scovillescale I like pizza. And creating sexy universes.
Sexy… universes? 
The fuck did that even mean?
After scrolling through a bunch of Q&A posts, he got to the cream of the crop. Technically, yes, this was an adult content creator, but not in the format he was used to. Finally noticing what he was looking at, Chris couldn’t contain the scream bubbling up in his throat.
“This is goddamn 2D porn!”
If it weren’t for the fact that he was bored and horny that one night, he probably wouldn’t have been at this exact part of the Internet, but he was, and for a man who thought animated porn was high art, this blog was a fucking gold mine. 
His worlds had collided.
Shortly after, he found himself deep into the rabbit hole of this Oni person’s body of work. Artwork being pretty was one thing, but the story? So captivating that he couldn’t put his phone down.
“BUT WHAT HAPPENS NEXT?!”
The last time he startled himself with his own voice was probably when he was reading one of those original choose your own adventure books. He stayed up till 3 a.m. binging one story, completely forgetting to jerk off until the very last sex scene, which depicted the female lead riding her love interest at the back of a car while choking him. The orgasm he had to that?
Fucking sublime.
Once sufficient blood started flowing to his brain again, he immediately hit follow, then fervently typed a message.
Anonymous asked: HOLY SHIT I mean it as the highest compliment possible, but I came so hard reading this. Your style is awesome and you got an instant fan. Can I be your 🍍 anon?
He didn’t even think twice before hitting Ask with the orgasm high, but all of a sudden, he remembered Jisung’s wording in that godforsaken reblog.
Closeted sluts living under a rock, check out my girl. 
My girl.
So he had just told a woman at three in the morning that he masturbated to a story she created and that he came so harfwnekjfnwfnw THAT WAS SO FUCKING INAPPROPRIATE!
Chris wanted his bed to swallow him whole, beside himself with how mortified he was. He only meant to convey his admiration, completely skipping over the fact that he wasn’t talking to one of his online bros. God, the disrespect… There was no way to edit this goddamn digital owl, let alone delete it before this turning-sex-into-art goddess saw that.
His fast-forwarded panic monologue was cut short barely a minute later. He saw the reply post on his dashboard, and it made his heart jump in his chest for no reason. 
Someone was online. At this hour.
Thank you for being so awesome! Also you got taste. Pineapple pizza slaps! #🍍 anon
The amount of relief he felt for not being called an uber creep was enough to knock him to sleep. He reread the message at least five times before putting his phone down.
“She likes pineapple pizza?” he chuckled to himself stupidly in his bed.
What a goddamn scandal.
He clasped his hands under his nape and replayed the night in his head one more time. His talk with Jisung, the encounter with the nameless girl… Some things did come naturally to some people, and Chris always found himself panicking when he tried doing the same.
Maybe he just wasn’t meant to experience some things in this life.
“Why couldn’t you be at the party tonight?” his smile trailed off into a disappointed sigh while looking at the dark screen of his phone.
⥊ TO BE CONTINUED ⥋
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AUTHOR'S NOTE
For every Minho with a pudding, there is a corresponding Chris with a pineapple. I don't make the rules.
Oh, wait, I actually do.
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「© 2021-2024, cb97percent · No translations, rewrites, or reposts permitted」
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✉ Enjoyed this? It would be cool of you to reblog so that my work can reach more people.
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