#like that just adds to the stress to the point of you're worrying am i not going to get a good job because i havent got a summer placement

[itslookingback]

good night gay little people in my laptop

[monsterfuxkermarya]

Miķelis

Now Playing: Alkaline by Sleep Token

Length: 4,558 words, ~20-25 minute read

Summary: It'd be such a shame if I just left my terrace window open on a hot night to let the breeze in and some big, half human-half tentacle monster comes in through the window, clearly aroused, and sees my wet and loose hole and breeds me in my sleep. Noooo, I'd hate for that to happen!

kinda like doc ock but its natural//part of his body and he's more alien-like 😊

CW: vaginal fingering, masturbation, somnophilia, somno breeding, breeding, tentacle monster/monster sex, cervix penetration, oviposition, rapid pregnancy?, uhhhh idk I’m doing this in order of appearance lolz, egg laying I guess? Idk what you'd call it. also lactation? But it's not really milk, but I guess it's still lactation.

It'd be such a shame if I just left my terrace window open on a hot night to let the breeze in and some big, half human-half tentacle monster comes in through the window, clearly aroused, and sees my wet and loose hole and breeds me in my sleep. Noooo, I'd hate for that to happen!

It's really hot out here in the woodlands of Texas, and my little cottage on the edge of the woods just can't keep up and everything is hot. I don't live particularly close to anyone, so I can go around all day in scantily short dresses or just my lingerie and not worry about anyone seeing me. Some days I just put a little skirt on and skip the panties, just a skirt and a light top you can see my nipples through.

But anyway, it's that time of the summer where it's not even cold at night - you're lucky if it gets down to 80 now. So I go to bed with most of my windows open, hoping it'll bring more air through.

But I don't just go to bed that night, no no no. It was a hot day, I had a few stressful work calls, I need to relax. I've had a few glasses of wine with my dinner, and I have a little left to sip on, so I pull out a small bottle of lube and my rabbit vibrator, my favorite at the moment.

I sigh out a little in relief. I've needed this for far too long at this point. I lube up my fingers and push two in at first. It feels almost foreign with how long it's been since I've been able to give my pussy a little love.

I add a third finger and start trying to loosely separate them, stretching myself open slowly. The slight burn from being out of practice makes this all the more worth it.

I'm getting a little wetter at the provocation, I can't help but smile at the wetness growing between my legs. I think I can use my rabbit now.

I grab my little rabbit and get it in position, slowly thrusting it into myself for the first time in probably a month. I moan out for a man that isn’t there.

I turn up the speed on my vibrator, letting it sit in me for a second, I’m too sensitive to thrust it in yet. Even then, it still feels so good. I needed this. I move it around a little, gasping at the pleasure it brings. God, if only someone else were doing this to me.

I thrust it in faster, panting at the relief it brings. I’m almost at the edge, it’s almost there, I can feel it pooling in my stomach, oh god, oh god oh god oh-

I’m squirting on my fingers and my rabbit before I know it. It was all too much, but I still want more.

I should stop before I’m too sore to work in my garden tomorrow. I turn off and slowly pull my rabbit out, sighing as I get up to clean it. If someone else were here, I wouldn’t have to lift a finger for my aftercare. But here I am, I just fucked my own brains out with a toy and I have administer my own aftercare. How fun.

I wash it of my juices and leave it in the bathroom, I can deal with it tomorrow. For now, though, I lay back down and dim my flower lamp, dusting the room in a pink hue.

I must’ve been sleeping for a few hours when the looming creature creeps in through my wide open bedroom window. He’s tall, at least six-foot-five, dark green in color that fades to a light green at the end of his extremities, and he carries this musk with him; we’re miles from the ocean but I smell the salt and the sand when he enters my room.

But the big thing, though, is that it’s mating season for his kind. He’s been looking for a human to mate with for weeks, and the longer he waits, the more desperate and deranged he becomes. He needs someone to carry his clutch. Now.

And I guess I’m the first easy womb he’s found to harbor his clutch in.

He creeps over, silent and imposing, and looks down at my stretched hole. She played with herself, he thinks absentmindedly. He doesn’t care if I was stretched or not, his slick tentacles would open me up well enough for his eggs.

He growls as his need increases. He needs this now. He grows out two tentacles to wrap around and spread each leg by the ankles, leaving no room for a fight if I wake up. Two more grow from him and stretch out my arms. He gets closer, letting some smaller tentacles trail up my thighs and caress my love handles.

After mapping out my body, he wraps one large tentacle around my waist, keeping me in place as he moves to insert one questioning tendril into my loose cunt.

He makes a lewd sound at the feeling of my walls, excited to have finally found a mate. He thrusts in further, curling round and mapping my womb.

I think this is when I wake up - a rather slimy tentacle all the way in my pussy, pushing against my cervix, and all my limbs and waist being held down by these larger tentacles with suction cups rather than little pores that drip slick. I open my eyes, hoping this is just a dream. I scream when I see his shadowy figure above me, multiple eyes staring at me. A tentacle, small at the tip but quite large at the base - almost as large as the one around my waist - comes straight for my open mouth and shoves itself down my throat. It immediately starts secreting the same fluid that’s being pushed around in my womb, calming and clouding my mind, maybe this is okay. Maybe I do want this.

I have no say when the slick starts leaking from the corners of my mouth, and I have no other choice but to swallow. It’s warm - I think it warms to my body - and it’s sweet, like strawberries and chocolates sweet. Once those first drops are down my throat I can’t help but suckle on the tentacle in my mouth. It just tastes so sweet!

He slides a second, smaller tentacle into my wet pussy - is the liquid an aphrodisiac? I don’t remember going to bed or waking up this wet, I think to myself. This one gushes more of the liquid and helps to stretch my hole open with the other one to let more tentacles in. God, how many is he gonna put in me?

He slowly slides two or three small tentacles in at a time, I don’t know how many, but when he stops, I’m completely full and can barely move. Just as I think he’s finished with the tentacles, he slides one more in, but this one is different from the other ones in and on my body. This one’s cold, large, equipped with both pores and suction cups, and is rather round and larger at the tip, not tapered off like the others. I whimper at the fullness.

And then he starts moving them around, in and out, thrusting in at different speeds.

He finally makes a sound, he shushes me as the tendril in my mouth pumps out more liquid than before. I sigh at getting the sweet aphrodisiac in a larger amount.

I’m getting close, so so close. All of his tendrils are hitting each and every nerve I have, setting my entire body on fire with pleasure. I start moaning a little louder around the tentacle in my mouth, maybe he’ll like the vibrations.

He does. He love it. He starts excreting more of the fluid into my mouth and my womb, making everything hotter and my mind a little more absent. He thrusts all the tendrils in my womb a little harder, a little faster.

Just as I think it couldn’t get any better, I feel a small, completely slick tentacle prodding at my ass. It’s looking for entrance elsewhere. He prods in slowly, hesitantly, making sure he doesn’t hurt his brooder too much.

Once the tentacle is nicely and comfortably moving around in my ass, I come from it all. I’m moaning and shaking, taking in more of the aphrodisiac. Within minutes of me cumming it’s almost like it never happened, I want more from him.

I feel a few more tentacles slowly make way to be with the one in my ass, pumping me with more of his slick. God it feels so good.

He leaves one small tentacle out to play with my clit, he lets it circle and suck on my nub. Two more slither up my body, leaving a trail of slick as they move, up to my breasts. They lightly touch around and move to suction onto my nipples, and I moan loudly at the feeling.

Apparently, once all of his tentacles are where they should be, I’m too loud for him. He stuffs the tentacle down my throat a little farther and starts pumping more of his liquid out.

“Shhh, shhh, I got you, shhhh, shhh. You’ll look so nice brooding my clutch” he whispers. He’s got a heavy accent, but it’s not one I’ve ever heard. Almost like it’s from a language most don’t speak. I try to look into his eyes, but as he looms over me - blocking out most light - I can barely make out his dark sets of orbs. I hope I’m looking at him, I want him to know I want more.

The limbs in my ass and my womb start moving faster, dripping more and more slick into me as he grunts a little louder. The oddly shaped one starts prodding at my cervix - it wants entry.

Everything becomes too much again, and as I feel his tentacle breach my cervix, I cum a second time from him, moaning loudly at the feeling. I slightly push the tendril out of my throat with my sounds, and it recedes back out to his back.

I mewl at the emptiness, I didn’t want him to leave! He swoops in and crashes our lips together, his slick and our saliva mixing. His tongue - much like his tentacles - slithers it’s way into my mouth - feeling what his tendril was just seconds ago. Can he not feel with his tentacles? I’m sure he can, he grunts when I squeeze my walls around him, he acted in tandem with me. Maybe it feels different.

Just as he’s about to pull away, I feel the tentacle that breached my cervix start to expand, like it’s hollowing around something. And sure enough, a few seconds go by and I feel something plop into my womb, followed by another, and another and another and another-

There’s got to be at least 20 small plops that go by before I zone out, totally in love with the feeling. I look down at my stomach, watching it inflate. His hand reaches out to cup my womb, slowly caressing it and cooing at me. I smile at the feeling of truly being full for the first time in my life.

I zone back in when I feel the tentacles in my ass start to pull out, slowly and one by one as to not hurt me. He starts pulling out the ones in my cunt, too. I whine at being empty.

“Shhh, pretty girl, you won't be empty for long” he whispers against my ear, the only tentacle left in me is the one in my womb now. It’s still pumping, my stomachs still swelling.

When it stops swelling, he goes to tear it off.

“What, what what do you think you’re doing? Why are you cutting it off?” I ask. They’re the first words out of my mouth to him, my voice shot from the tentacle that was down my throat.

“It’s customary. So you don’t worry about the clutch inside of you, and they also have both parents with them.” He grunts out as he finally tears it off. He doesn’t bleed from it, I guess it is customary for breeding.

“Sleep, grow my clutch dear brooder. I’ll be back tomorrow.” He whispers as he gets up to leave. He uncurls the tendrils from my body and stands up from where he was on my bed. I whimper at being cold and alone now.

He circles around to the side and puts a tentacle back in my throat. I accept it immediately, letting it settle heavy on my tongue. It starts pumping out a different tasting liquid, this one tastes like how honeysuckle smells. I start nodding off to the taste of it.

I wake up hours later than usual, the sun is almost right above me when I wake up. It’s got to be at least 10:30 now.

The tentacle is gone from my mouth, but the one he cut off is still sitting in my cunt, fully extended to my womb. My womb is completely filled and extended, the skin taught from how many eggs are inside me. I see a small note, a pair of scissors, and a glass of water on my bedside table as I swerve to the side to stand up.

Don’t take the tentacle out, just cut it so it doesn’t impede your movement. I'll take it out when I get there. See you tonight.

-Miķelis

I smile, rubbing my large belly. I wonder what’ll happen tonight. I cut the excess off, leaving maybe an inch to grab it with, and throw it in the trash can by bed.

I stand up, hearing my knees pop and my back moan in pain from the sudden added weight. I guess I can't work in the garden today. There goes my Saturday.

I waddle to my kitchen to make breakfast, but I honestly don't have much energy to do that. All I want to do is get back in bed and snuggle up until Miķelis gets here tonight.

After breakfast, I go freshen up (get all the slick off of my body) and lay back down. I find a small little cup and a second note on my other bedside table.

Drink this about an hour before sundown, it'll make tonight easier.

-Miķelis

It smells nice, almost exactly like the first liquid he pumped into me last night. Maybe it is that liquid? Who knows, but I want to listen to him, so I turn on my other side and settle down.

I wake up again a few hours later, it's about two in the afternoon now. My stomach is larger, its moving a little, and I feel an insatiable heat in my cunt. I can't even reach my clit to play with myself. I whine in frustration, getting up to get my small bullet vibrator from the drawer. That'll do the trick.

"Ohhh, Oh my god! Miķelis!!!" I moan out when i squat down to the lower drawer where my vibrator is. Everything just moved inside me and everything hurts. The tentacle almost starts sliding out. I quickly grab my bullet vibrator waddle to go grab some panties to keep the tentacle and vibrator in place for when I lay back down.

Putting on panties is harder than it seems when you can't reach your cunt or see most of your legs for that matter, but once I get them on, I waddle quickly back to bed. I need this more than I needed it last night.

I push the tendril back in, sighing at the comfort it brings to have something so stable in me. I slide the bullet into my panties and turn it on, mewling at the pleasure it brings. Nowhere near what Miķelis gave me last night, but it'll do until he gets here.

As the bullet buzzes away, I go to play with my breasts. When my hands cup them, though, I notice they're a little larger than they were last night. They seem, I don't know, heavier? Like they're filled with something? Oh my god, oh!! What if they're filled with milk for our clutch? Do his eggs even need milk? Ooooh is that what's going to happen tonight? Is that why he's coming back?

I cum quickly when I pinch my nipples. They're so tender right now! I sigh and turn down the bullet, letting it go at a small hum on my clit. I go back to sleep.

When I wake up again, it's about 30 minutes before sundown, a little later than when he said I should drink whatever's in the small cup. The bullet turned off, so I turn it back on at the low hum it was at. It feels nice to have a small distraction.

I quickly swallow down whatever he gave me, it tastes like a mix of the strawberries and chocolate aphrodisiac with something else, not the honeysuckle, but something equally sweet. Raspberry? Jasmine. It think it's jasm-

My cunt starts spasming out of nowhere, and I've noticed a few things:

My stomach is at least twice it's size that was earlier.

my bedsheets have become extremely wet - as if I poured the entire ocean on them wet.

My breasts are leaking something that looks like milk

I think I'm contracting?

Do I start pushing? Do I take the tentacle out? He said not to take the tentacle out until he got here, what do I do what do I do?? Damn Miķelis, giving me the best night of my life just to leave me alone. But he's coming, he's just not here right now! That's all!

I'm writhing on the bed for what feels like days before I see that it's completely dark outside now. Miķelis should be here soon. Please show up. I don't think I can do this alone.

I whimper a little louder and feel the tentacle slowly start moving outward, something's pushing it out from the inside. I push it back in, I can't not do one of the two things Miķelis asked of me, I can't upset this man.

Just as I start crying, I see him in the corner of my doorway. He rushes in when he hears me in full.

"Shhhh, shhh shhh, dolly, it's okay, I'm here now. Let's move you to the bathroom dear, my eggs need to be hatched in water." He whispers as he holds me. He picks me up and coos silently on the way to my bathroom. How does he know the layout to my house?

He sets me down in the bathtub and starts the water. He lets it get to a warm temperature before closing the stopper and letting it fill. As it nears my breasts, he stops the water and helps me onto the large ledge.

"Oops, sorry dear, I didn't see you had panties on" he chuckles softly as he pulls them off. The vibrator falls into the tub -thank god it's meant to be submerged - and he turns it off and chucks it onto the bathroom counter. He does the same with my panties.

"I'm so happy you listened to my directions, dear, both for the tentacle and the drink. Women have tried to take it out before, it never does end well." he whispers as he rubs my belly. I whimper at his words.

The lights are on in the bathroom, and I finally get a good look at him. He is indeed tall, and only his tentacles - which I only see eight right now - are the dark to light green ombré. He's got dark brown hair, olive skin, and his eyes match his tentacles - one's dark green and the other's light green. He doesn't have a plethora of eyes like I thought, only two. Why did I think he had multiple sets of eyes?

The contractions start at a heavier pace now, and he pulls the tentacle out. He places it in the tub.

He coos at me and rubs my belly a little more, telling me it'll be okay. I hope it will be.

He tells me to start pushing, and I can't not listen to him. A tentacle wraps around my chest, just above my nipples to keep me upright.

I push, I feel them moving closer to my entrance.

A few more pushes, and the first small egg makes it's way to crowning. He slips a tentacle into my mouth and tells me to suck. A second one makes it's way to my clit and circles around it. I moan at the comfort his tentacles bring me.

The liquid starts pouring out into my mouth, and I feel myself loosening up as I drink up more of it. I hear the first egg plop out, followed quickly by the second, and the third, fourth fifth sixth seven-

At least 20 small eggs have slipped out of my loose hole before I start crying a little louder. How many are there? How many did he put in me?

It finally stops at 36, and I slump into his tentacles, letting him do what he pleases with my body.

By now, it's at least an hour after sundown, probably around nine or a little after. He carries me back to bed and lays me down, letting me catch my breath.

When I've finally caught my breath, I feel a slew of tentacles prodding at my loose cunt, not forcing themselves in yet, but asking for entrance.

I sigh around the tendril in my mouth. I try to say yes around it, he can shove them in me and make me his brooder again. He smiles, he got the memo.

I'm loose from last night and just giving birth to his clutch, so he easily slides three or more in at once. I feel the ovipositor tendril come in with a second bulk of them this time. It's already regrown? This one feels larger though?

"It regrows quickly during mating season. And you can take a larger clutch this time dear, you can take a larger tentacle for it. It grows with each mating session." He explains. I guess I looked a little confused.

A few tentacles ask for entrance at my ass again, and again, I let him in. There's still some entering my loose pussy, but not as many as there were earlier.

The remaining go up to cup my still leaking breasts, the tentacles immediately go to suckle on my nipples. Two more go to cup the underside of them.

I guess he doesn't feel the need to tie me up this time. I like that. I move my arms to wrap around his neck to get closer to him, I want to breathe his ocean scent in.

He smiles and puts a hand on my back to bring me in closer, the other on my neck to keep a good hold of me. He leans in to whisper.

"You are meant to be a breeder, dear. You'll take every single clutch I give you and won't let a single egg spoil. You make such a good brooder, sweetie. You're the best brooder I've ever had. You're my only brooder for this season, I swear to you. You'll be my only brooder for every other season.

What a good slut, deary. Taking all I give you and still begging for more. I couldn't help myself when I smelled your sex last night. You just had to keep your windows open, just had to tempt me. Now look at you, begging for a second clutch to take care of."

I whimper as I cum around his tentacles again, he just makes me feel so good. I can't stop myself this time, I feel myself adding to the wetness around us. I'm gushing around his multiple cocks. I hide my face in his neck as best I can with the tentacle in my mouth when he speeds up. I think the aphrodisiac numbs pain, too.

The tentacles in my ass move at a different pace than the ones in my cunt, and I whimper a little louder at the sensation. The tendril in my mouth pumps more liquid to calm me. God do I love the taste of it. Can't that be the only thing I drink for the rest of my life?

The tentacles in my cunt speed up, and I feel the ovipositor tendril make its way for my cervix again. Already? I can't complain, but it feels like no time has passed at all. But he doesn't move to breach yet, he simply straddles it there.

More and more of the liquid is pumping into all of my holes, he's pounding my cunt and my ass, and my mouth is full. It feels like I didn't just cum and I'm already cumming again. I'm gushing against him and I feel his smile even with my eyes closed. I whimper a little louder, everything alive with fire but dull at the same time.

He pulls out the tentacle from my mouth and moves to kiss me as the ovipositor breaches my cervix. I cry out loudly as it happens and he smothers me with the kiss. I feel the all the other tentacles still and the ovipositor start pumping eggs into me again. I sigh quietly, it already feels comforting and constant even if it's the second time. I smile into his lips at the thought.

The clutch he pumps into me is larger than the last ones, if only by a little bit. It still feels jarring, though. I don't think 36 will fit this time if they're larger.

I whimper at being full once again, happy at being at this point again. He pulls away from my lips and smiles at me, moving us back down onto the bed flat, letting a had move to my stomach and leaving the other to still rest at my neck. It moves to cup my jaw.

He stops pumping me to take his other tentacles out, slowly, knowing even though I like this, my body still isn't fully acclimated to it. Once they're all out, he again cuts off his ovipositor. I whimper at being empty again.

This time, though, instead of getting up and putting me to sleep, he shushes me and tells me he'll be right back. He comes back with a glass of water and lays down with me. Is he staying this time? Oh I hope he stays this time!

He holds the glass for me as I take small gulps, smiling down at my large belly. It's a little larger than it started at last time, god it's gonna be a bad night tomorrow if they're that big. But it's only gonna get bigger and more painful from here. Who cares, hopefully I'll acclimate.

He moves us around to spoon, moving his arms to be wrapped around my full belly. I smile at the gesture.

I really hope he does this all mating season.

I have wanted to write tentacle sex for so long, and this one could go on forever, but I mean it'd just repeat after this.

Not super edited, sorry for any mistakes

Again, if you actually got to the end of this, why don't you stay for a while? I got some other works in the making at the moment and chances are if you've found my posts you'll like the stuff i repost. Just a thought :)

Creds to @/cafekitsune for the dividers ♡

[hopeful-engineer]

🌞 Self-care vs. self-indulgence vs. avoidance

Sometimes it may be a hard to swallow pill, but there's a difference between self-care and self-indulgence:

🍭 self-indulgence: spending too much money on stuff you want, but don't really need, like clothes you'll wear twice and then leave in your closet, where all they do is take up space, books you'll never read, subscriptions you'll forget about

✨ self-care: saving money; planning your budget; buying less, but better quality; thinking twice, before buying something you want, but don't need: "Will I really use it? Do I have enough money to buy it, without worrying, that I won't have enough to buy something more important? I want it now, but will I still want it tomorrow?" (note: I didn't write "don't buy anything except necessities" anywhere. Buy the stuff you want, but do it consciously, plan it and think before buying.)

🍭 self-indulgence: eating fast food and unhealthy snacks; drinking soda pop, energy drinks, tea with a lot of sugar, or too much coffee; adding sugar to everything; drinking too much alcohol

✨ self-care: eating as healthy as possible; learning to cook; avoiding fast food, sweets, potato chips and other unhealthy snacks; reducing your sugar intake; drinking water, fruit juices, tea without added sugar; planning your meals; buying natural food (note: It doesn't mean "never eat anything unhealthy again, never add sugar to anything, never drink alcohol". You can treat yourself with some pizza, or sweets, or beer sometimes, but it should be a treat, not part of your everyday meals.)

🍭 self-indulgence: staying up until 3 AM to watch films/series, play computer games, browse social media, chat with someone, or even to do something, that doesn't involve technology, for example draw or read books; sleeping until 11 AM, because you went to bed too late; sleeping 12 hours at the weekend, because you slept 4 hours a day during the week; hitting the snooze button; laying in the bed for too long after waking up

✨ self-care: fixing your sleep schedule; waking up earlier; going to bed earlier; sleeping 7 to 9 hours every day; avoiding all-nighters; having a fixed wake up time and a fixed bedtime, the same every day, including weekends; getting out of bed immediately when your alarm clock rings (note: I know there are circumstances, that can mąkę having a fixed sleep schedule is impossible, or next to impossible, I also know in some situations it's totally normal to stay up late, like you don't have to leave a party at 9 PM just because you want to stick to your sleep schedule, that would be unreasonable. Do it the best you can under your current life circumstances, and remember, this is about everyday life, not some rare exceptions.)

There's also a difference between self-care and avoidance:

😨 avoidance: staying home all the time; not going to any events, because meeting new people is stressful; always declinig your friends' invitations

✨ self-care: not going to that big, loud party, because it's too overwhelming, but going to a pub with a few friends instead; inviting your friends to your home, when going out feels too stressful; declinig some invitations, when you don't have time and/or energy, but accepting others, when you feel better and have more time; gradually increasing the number of social interactions you have, to be able to meet new people with less stress

😨 avoidance: having no plans for the future; thinking, that there's no point in having any goals in life; telling yourself, that ambitions are generally pointless and hence you don't have to do anything and be good at anything

✨ self-care: having specific, short-term goals and an overall vision od your long-term future; knowing, what you really want to do and what you're good at, and sticking to these things; consciously choosing, what to learn and what to give up on, based on if it's important to you, not to other people; not distracting yourself with too many side plans, when you have one main goal; knowing, what is your passion and what is your ambition; knowing, that you are ambitious mainly for yourself, and only secondly for the society; believing, that you are capable of achieving your goals

😨 avoidance: not studying at all, because it takes time and energy; procrastinating until the last moment before the exam/test/project deadline; always talking the easiest way possible with no ambition beyond barely passing the exam/test; having no plan, no study schedule; never asking for help, even if you're failing, because you think asking for help is a shame, or you're simply too shy; dropping out of school/college because it's stressful

✨ self-care: knowing that you're studying for yourself, your grades don't define you and that real knowledge and skills are more important, than grades; focusing on these topics, that are important to you for your future studies/career, and being the best you can in these areas; being good enough to pass at everything, that isn't important for your future plans; planning your studying and starting early; taking regular breaks to avoid burnout; asking for help if necessary, but trying to do as much as possible and reasonable on your own; acknowledging that, despite the education system being flawed in so many ways, it also gives you many opportunities;

Of course, self-care includes bubble baths, eating cake, listening to your favourite music and slowly drinking tea, while watching the rain outside through the window and letting your thoughts wander, but these aren't only forms od self-care and definetely not the most important ones. Of course, sometimes it includes staying home with your cat instead of going to the party, sleeping in, instead of studying for an exam, because you're exhausted, or giving up on something, instead of trying again and again, but this should happen in some, specific situations, not be your default response. Real self-care should focus on improving your life, not escaping it or avoiding it.

This post doesn't mean, I'm perfect at all of these things. Actually I struggle a lot with many of them. This is a piece of advice for me, too.

[quinloki]

period sex and aftercare and /BUGGY/ are so big brained can i ask for those two plus dacryphilia with buggy and croco-baby and maybe a secret third character (your choice) if you feel up to it!!! Thank yooouuu!!! :o)

Alright, I got ONE MORE KINK ASK after this and I'll be all done with them \o/ Holy shit I can't believe how many asks I got for this (And how much fun I've had dealing with them.)

It helps a lot that I love kinks, kinky people, one piece characters, and learning/educating >.>

Alright we got Period Sex, Aftercare, Dacryphilia (the crying kink) - For Buggy and Sir Crocodile - and since you called him Croco-baby I'll add Donquixote Doflamingo to this.

I am surprised with as often as I feel like I've seen the crying kink pop up that I haven't already done it for ANY of these guy =O

And also yay \o/ AFTERCARE ASK \lol/

Go go alphabetical!

Buggy:

Period Sex - FUCK Yes - It's messy, it's red, it's kind of flashy actually, and Buggy loves it. You don't grow up on the most famous pirate ship in the world without being comfortable with all sorts of things. I feel like everyone under Roger's flag was, we'll say educated, and as such I can't see anyone from that crew being put off by menstruation.

Plus, orgasms are a cure for some, and there's one way to find out if it works for you to alleviate any cramping you may be feeling. You're going to be a complete mess by the time it's done though, Buggy's a little blood-lusty, surprisingly maybe, but he gets feral, and more so than with lipstick or makeup, he loves to "mark" you.

Aftercare - Oh god you don't even know - He is a terribly stressed clown, but I also think he's a big damned softie too. Buggy really is just as comfortable brushing your hair as he is ordering the crew around. Maybe more so, honestly. All that hair he has though, and that makeup he wears, the man's skin and hair care routines are on point as much as his eyeliner game. He will take care of you after every session, even if he subbing or bottoming some of it.

I think Buggy's desire to serve is almost as strong as Sanji's honestly. If you're an important person to him, he doesn't want to let you down, and he will devour your praises. But he's also The Captain™, and no matter what his role was, he's going to provide you proper aftercare.

Dacryphilia - No. - Sure sometimes tears happen. Sometimes you're so overwhelmed they slip out, sometimes you are chocking on the impressive package this man has. Sometimes tears happen, but Buggy doesn't like tears. He doesn't want to see you cry. If your makeup smears he wants it to be cause of sweat and pleasure and touch, not because you're crying. He's not even good at handling happy tears, let alone any other kind.

Buggy's more of let-him-do-the-crying-for-both-of-you type. He'd happily be the only one stressed to the ends of his capacity, than to have you worry. (Which probably worries you xD it's a bit of a cycle like that).

Sir Crocodile:

Period Sex - Yes - He doesn't mind the mess. The cause doesn't bother him. The only reason it doesn't rate higher is because it's hard to know if your period will heighten your pleasure or your pain - that lack of control bothers him, no matter how well or fast he can adjust accordingly.

He also doesn't see it as marking you the same way some others do. It's your blood, not his. It has a scent that isn't his or his cigars. If anything it's an annoyance because you should smell like him, and you shouldn't ever be hurt enough to smell like blood. You shouldn't be close enough to violence to even know what blood smells like, at least as far as he's concerned. But he'll soothe your cramps and discomfort in any way he can when it's that time.

Aftercare - Oh god you don't even know - As said before, Crocodile is all about control, and aftercare is required for control. You don't want to leave your little bottom/sub spiraling with all sorts of thoughts on their own. Whether we're talking toxic AU or not. Aside from the control though, he enjoys it. It's time to bond, to discuss, to connect. The more he knows about you the more control he can exert.

The more control you can hand over.

Plus, as beautiful as you are in his clutches, you're just as beautiful in his care.

Dacryphilia - FUCK Yes - Oh please cry for him. Sob in terror or pleasure or pain, he's not picky. Your face in tears is as lovely as your face contorted in pleasure. The only requirement is that those tears are his fault. No one else is allowed to make you cry.

As much as he will pull tears from you - and most sobs of pleasure as long as you're good - he'll kiss them away so sweetly. Brushing them aside so kindly, and with such praise.

Donquixote Doflamingo:

Period Sex - FUCK Yes - Not only is it a mess, it's a bloody mess. Doffy's a bit twisted and I can see him actually smearing the mess all over you while he's taking a break between railing you. He's not doing it so much to mark you, as he is to almost degrade you. He'll tell you how dirty you are, covered in blood and cum and tears - he 100% gets into degrading you during it.

Sometimes being on your period can make you more sensitive to pleasure, and sometimes it makes you more sensitive to pain - it doesn't matter as far as he's concerned. He'll get his pleasure at the least, and he'll enjoy turning you into a mess in the meantime.

Aftercare - Yes - Unless he's truly into you, don't take this as some kind of kindness. Aftercare is a good time to learn and bond, and for Doffy that generally means it's a great time to reinforce all his manipulations. It lets you think he cares (again, *maybe* he does), and pulls you closer into his grasp.

A truly skilled puppeteer doesn't necessarily hide the strings, he just makes sure you don't pay attention to them when you should be >.>

Dacryphilia - Oh god you don't even know - Cry for him, please. Crumble to pieces in pleasure, fear or pain - whatever it may be that you've earned at the point in time. If you're overwhelmed in pleasure he'll promise you such sweetness and devotion. If you're overwhelmed with fear he'll admonish you softly and forgive you magnanimously. If pain stains your face he'll have you begging for forgiveness, a forgiveness he'll bestow on you when he feels like it.

Perhaps after you've gone raw and hoarse from tears and begging.

Much like others who enjoy making their partners cry, it is a pleasure reserved entirely for him and no one else. Members of his immediate family may get an understanding pass, circumstances depending, but anyone beyond that is likely to be dealt with swiftly.

[666writingcafe]

A Reward (Part Two)

Content Warning: a MC-centered orgy featuring blow jobs

MC

One moment, I'm watching a movie with everyone. The next, I'm back on the bed I was on during Belphie's portion of my chastity test.

"Welcome back," Belphie greets me. He's sitting cross-legged across from me.

"What's going on?" I ask. "This isn't a surprise final, is it?"

"No, no, nothing like that."

"Then what am I doing here?" Belphie sighs.

"We've noticed how tense you've been the last few days and figured it was due to the emotional aftermath of the test."

"I mean, you're not wrong. I know it was designed to push my limits, but damn. It didn't need to be that fucking hard." Belphie chuckles.

"That's why we decided to reward you." That's the second time he's said "we", but the word just now registered in my brain.

"We?" I repeat. Belphie nods his head, smiling. There's no way this is happening right now.

"You mean all of you agreed--"

"Yep," he answers, interrupting my train of thought. "It was surprisingly easy."

"Belphie, I...I don't know what to say."

"Just tell me when you want to begin." I'm completely speechless. The fact that these guys are willing to play out this particular fantasy of mine is something I never thought would actually happen. It's part of why I resisted Asmo's charm for so long; I didn't want him--or anyone else--to think less of me for it.

"Don't overthink it, MC."

"It's not that," I tell him. "It's just...well...why is it happening here?"

"Diavolo was worried that your body couldn't handle the stress of this in the real world, so this is the next best thing."

"But this is only a dream." Belphie rolls his eyes.

"You're forgetting, MC: I can make this feel like reality. That includes leaving evidence that will still be there when you wake up. We're simply taking advantage of the nebulous nature of the dream realm to make this happen for you." I close my eyes, still feeling overwhelmed. Part of me considers having Belphie send me to another part of the dream realm that has rainbows or something less intense than this.

"It's okay," Belphie comforts. "You don't have to worry about a thing. We'll take care of you. I promise." I take a deep breath. The person that I was before the exchange program would have never agreed to do something this slutty. Not because I didn't want to, but because I was afraid of making a fool out of myself.

But I've grown a lot since then, and these guys seem to accept me, flaws and all.

"Okay," I whisper. I feel the bed shift. Moments later, I find myself up against someone's chest as Belphie's lips are on mine. The mystery person's hands reach inside my shirt and lightly slide up my sides, making me shiver.

"Relax," Lucifer whispers, planting a kiss on my temple. "You're allowed to enjoy yourself."

"We don't have to do this if you feel uncomfortable," Belphie adds. Opening my eyes reveals his face inches away from my own. "Just say the word, and we'll stop."

"Please keep going." I sound pathetic. Rather than tease me for it, however, the two men resume their actions. Their hands travel up and down my body as their lips focus on my face and neck. At some point, my shirt disappears. Whether one of them actually took it off or it simply vanished into thin air is anyone's guess.

Lucifer gets off the bed, and Belphie gently pushes me so that I'm lying on my back. Multiple hands and lips immediately begin roaming all over my body, reducing me to pants and soft whines.

"Aaaw," Asmo coos. "You're so adorable, MC."

"We've barely gotten started, and already you're a trembling mess," Satan observes.

"I..." Their constant touching is making me forget what I was even going to say. Something about me not being able to help it?

"Ssh," Simeon whispers. "You don't have to talk, MC. Just focus on us, okay?" I feel like I'm melting.

"Give them a moment," Diavolo instructs, his breath hot on my belly. "They're not used to having this much attention on them. They're probably overwhelmed." Everyone's movements stop as they look at me, waiting for a reaction.

"It's..." I have to really focus to get the words to come out of my mouth. "It's like my brain's turned to jelly."

"Is that a good thing?" Solomon asks.

"I think so. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I'm just not used to it, that's all."

"If I'd known you'd react like this, I would have made this happen a lot sooner," Belphie chimes in. "It's nice seeing you truly relax, MC."

"So, are you good to continue?" Beel asks. "Or do you need more time to recenter yourself?" I take another deep breath. I have a feeling I'll be doing that quite a bit this evening.

"I'm ready." With that, the men resume their touching, keeping a closer eye on my reactions to make sure I don't become overstimulated again.

"You're doing so well, MC," Barbatos praises. "Such a good little lamb." Hearing the compliment makes me whine.

"Oh yeah, I forgot to mention this to you guys," Belphie states. "Well, Asmo may have known already, but it seems as though our MC has a bit of a praise kink."

"Is that true, MC?" Mammon asks, rubbing his hand up and down my thigh. "Do you like being told how good you are?" I hum affirmatively.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of," Levi responds. "I have one, too. It helps boost my self-confidence."

"For me, they help me feel valued," I explain quietly. "They assure me that I'm doing the right thing."

"So, does degradation have the opposite effect on you?" Belphie asks.

"I mean, if that's all you're doing, then yes. I'd probably start crying. But if there are praises mixed into it, then it's not so bad."

"So, if I told you to take my dick in your mouth like the good little whore that you are, you wouldn't have a problem with that?"

"Oh, that got their attention," Asmo quips before I have a chance to answer. It makes sense that he picked up on that; he is the Avatar of Lust, after all.

"Then let's put it to the test." The other men move off me, and Belphie repositions the two of us so that my face is level with his crotch. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Satan, Barbatos, Asmo, and Diavolo all exchange knowing glances. They've all witnessed first hand how I react to having a demon dick in my face, and it's not by acting all shy about it.

Belphie makes the clothes on his bottom half disappear with a snap of his fingers, and without hesitation I wrap my mouth around him, gripping both sides of his waist as I begin moving up and down.

"Fuck!" Belphie hisses. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

"That was my reaction when they did that to me," Asmo responds. "Really threw me off guard at first. I didn't think they even knew how to give a blowjob, let alone be able to excel at it."

"It appears to become the only thing on their mind," Diavolo adds. "They won't stop until you've cummed completely in your mouth, and even then they might continue sucking."

"Hang on," Mammon chimes in. "You mean to tell me that you two received a blowjob from MC before the rest of us?"

"Make that four," Barbatos answers.

"Four?! Now, that hardly seems fair." I briefly stop what I'm doing to tell Mammon that I'd be more than happy to help even the score, so to speak, making him shut up and allowing me to continue pleasuring Belphie.

The next little bit goes by in a blur as I make good on my promise. Mammon's quite loud, Levi babbles incoherently the whole time, Beel mostly growls, and Lucifer and Solomon groan like the old men that they are.

But the one that stands out to me the most is Simeon. After making 100% sure that he's okay with me doing this to him, I go for it. The noises that consequently come out of his mouth are some of the prettiest I've ever heard. It almost sounds like he's singing.

My jaw aches when I'm finally finished.

"Our turn," Belphie states. The bed creaks as he gets on it, pushing me up against the headrest. He then grabs my legs and spreads them apart before positioning himself between them. The gaspy moan I produce when he begins pleasuring me with his mouth appears to be a kind of siren call, for everyone else resumes touching the rest of my body with their hands and lips.

I don't know how much time passes or how many orgasms I have. And yet I can't find it in me to care that much. There's only one word on my mind as they have their way with me: more.

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan

[toomuchracket]

stress relief (sweetheart!george x reader fluff)

first george fic, who cheered?! day 8 of promptober. a weird little (well, long) fluffy end of high school moment about exam stress, and hitting things and smoking weed and kissing your new boyfriend to make you feel better. i've absolutely not a clue what came over me while i wrote this. but i think it's fun. and i hope you lot do too! <3

you're stomping down the street towards your house when your phone rings. digging it out of your bag, your grumpiness ebbs slightly when you see it's george on the other end of the line. "hiya."

"hi, baby," comes the gravelly reply. george's voice is enough to send you into a fit of enamoured giggles anyway, but hearing him address you with the pet name - a recent development, a free add-on that came with the "girlfriend" title during the summer - has you practically skipping down the street. "how'd it go?"

the reminder of the horrible mock exam almost threatens to block out the enjoyment of talking to george, a black cloud over the sun. "fucking awful."

"doubt that," george replies. there's a shuffling sound in the background on his end; you know, even without seeing him, that he's moved to lean his elbow on something so he can adjust the phone and listen to you better. "but tell me all about it."

"it was just… bad. the questions were all worded so weirdly. felt so fucking thick trying to read them, g," you sigh, kicking at a stone on the pavement. "so obviously i've no idea if i answered anything correctly, because i couldn't fucking understand what they were actually asking, and if i don't pass this then i don't get to sit the actual exam, and then i've got no bloody chance of getting into uni."

your voice breaks on the final word, and so does the invisible dam keeping your tears in. despite doing your best to keep any sobs at bay, george immediately clocks that you're crying and goes into reassurance mode. "baby…"

"it's fine, i'm fine," you sniffle. "sorry, i know i'm being silly. how are you?"

"worried about you, angel. i don't like how stressed out this exam's made you feel, recently," george admits. "and i'm not letting you dwell on it from this point on, alright?"

"babe…"

"you answered every question, i take it?"

you frown. "i mean, yeah, but-"

"no buts, baby," george's voice is firm; it does something weird to your brain. that's new. "you answered every question in the paper to the best of your ability. don't try and argue with me on that one, angel. i know you did, because you never half-arse anything, and it's one of the things i lo-like most about you. and there's nothing more you can do about the exam, so there's no point dwelling on it, even if it was as shit as you say. yeah?"

you sigh. "yeah. you're right."

"i know i am," george's voice is smug, but it softens as he continues. "wish i was there to give you a hug right now, though, make you feel better."

"me too," you say wistfully, unlocking your front door and shrugging off your jacket before heading upstairs. "but i'll get one off you at the party tonight. or several. actually, i might not even let go of you the whole time."

you flop onto your bed, rolling onto your stomach and kicking your legs in the air as george laughs and says "i'm not gonna complain about that, babe. speaking of the party, what d'you want? matty's picking up in a bit."

"are you smoking?"

"was gonna, yeah. want some?"

"please."

"sweet. he says he's already got wine if you want it, too, but he'll get you vodka if you'd rather have that."

"no, wine's good," you say. "thank him for me, please, and tell him i'll pay him back later."

george laughs. "i've got you covered, babe."

you facepalm. "george."

"what? you've had a hard day. let me treat you."

there’s silence for a brief moment, as you ponder and then decide against debating with your boyfriend (even thinking about calling george that makes you smile); as stubborn as you are, george is ten times worse. if this was an in-person debate, a strategically-timed pout would give you the upper hand, but you'll never wear him down via phone.

"fine," you sigh dramatically. "thank you, babe. but you have to accept petrol money from me tonight."

"not a fucking chance. i have to drive past your house to get to matty's, anyway. he should be the one paying me."

you laugh. "if you're sure, babe. i'll get you back sometime, though."

"actually, there is something you could do for me tonight, if you wouldn't mind," george says slowly, voice deepening even more than usual. it sends goosebumps down your arms, and any and all sanity out of your head. "you could wear that top you bought at the weekend."

"the black one?"

"yeah," george's voice changes again; you can hear him blushing. "you looked really beautiful in it."

(his reaction when you'd opened the fitting room door last week had made you aware of that thought of his, but it's far nicer hearing him say it.)

"consider it done," you smile. "what time should i be ready for?"

"six? then we have time to get a maccies on the way."

"you do know the way to a girl's heart, george daniel."

george laughs. your heart flutters. "alright, baby. i'll see you in a couple of hours."

"looking forward to it," you smile, clicking your phone off. the goodbye feels unfinished, you think; the three other words you're too nervous to say to george seem to linger expectantly in your throat every time you talk to him, just waiting to be released from your lips to his ears. it's only been three months since you started labelling the relationship, but there were three of "dating" beforehand (following a two-sided drunken confession at matty's eighteenth), and another eight of crushing and pining preceding that - you know exactly how you feel about him. you just don't know when to tell him.

you nearly do, though, when he picks you up for the party later that night. after chucking your overnight bag in the backseat, you climb into the passenger seat and are immediately pulled into an absolute head-melter of a kiss.

george smiles as he pulls back from you. "hi, baby. you wore the top, i see."

"course i did," you grin in response. "have to keep up with you, don't i, gorgeous?"

"oh, shush," george shakes his head, cheeks pink. "right, let's get you some nuggets."

you clap, and your boyfriend laughs, a sound that continues from both of you as you make your way through the drive-thru and then to matty's. in between giggles and singalongs to the blink-182 album in the cd player, you feed george chips and chicken nuggets, the friday evening traffic stopping the two of you from being able to park and eat your dinner and still make it to the party on time. the vibe is in total contrast to your frustrated tears from earlier; now, doing shitty tom delonge impressions with your favourite boy in the world, you're ridiculously happy.

after parking outside matty's house, george turns to you before either of you can get out of the car. "listen, baby," he says softly, bringing a hand up to stroke your hair. "i know it's been a bit of a day for you, and i just want you to be alright - if you wanna go home at any point, tell me, yeah?"

your heart swells a little at his tenderness. you nod, pouting your lips slightly. "kiss?"

"gladly," george grins, lips on yours within seconds. like earlier, this kiss makes your head spin. 

unlike earlier, however, it isn't ended by either you or george pulling away; the two of you are so distracted by each other that you don't hear adam walking across the gravel towards the car. it isn't until he opens the passenger door that you pull away from george in fright, and then he speaks. "matty says no snogging in the driveway."

"tell him i'll do it in his fucking bedroom and see what he says then," george snaps. he kisses your hand. "sorry, baby."

"s'fine. hi, adam," you say, turning to your friend. "how are you?"

"betrayed, actually - you got a maccies and didn't ask if i wanted anything?"

"leave her alone, hann," george says, walking round to grab your bag and usher you out of the car. "she's had a stressful day."

"well, you're in luck, mate - oh, cheers," adam pulls you into a half hug as you pass him your final chicken nugget, and the boys lead you into the house. "matty found an unused piñata in the garage, so you can beat the shit out of that if it'll make you feel better."

"he just… found a piñata? just happened across it?" you ask, mildly bewildered (it's matty, after all), at the exact same time george ponders "what's he put in it?"

"he just found it, yeah. i don't know either," adam shrugs. "and he's literally put joints in it. no sweets. just weed."

interesting.

george nearly pisses himself laughing, while you, as is your wont, ask a sensible question. "won't the force of the hits knock the joints apart, though? like, genius idea to put them there in theory, but will it work?"

"only one way to find out, i s'pose, baby" george says. "here, let me put your bag upstairs. i'll meet you in the garden in a minute, yeah?"

your boyfriend kisses you quickly and hurries upstairs, while you follow adam out to the garden, stopping briefly to hug some of your friends hello. only ross and matty are outside, the former reaching up to attach a unicorn piñata to a tree branch while the latter shouts orders at him. "fucksake, ross, that's far too high!"

"he's right, unfortunately, ross," you chip in, wandering over towards them and slinging an arm round matty's shoulders. "do you really want either of us jumping with a potential weapon in our hands?"

"he already is a potential weapon," comes the grumbling from under the branch.

"taking that as a compliment, actually," matty shouts, steering you away from the tree and hugging you. "hi, darling. where's g?"

"stashing my handbag for me."

"ok, good, because i have news and you're the only person i can tell," matty spins to face you, inhaling deeply and clasping his hands together. "i think i'm in love."

"ok?" you put your hands on your hips, underwhelmed. "you've already told me this, remember? last month?"

"different person. that wasn't real, this is."

"right. and you're only telling me because…?"

"well, it's someone like you i think i'm in love with."

"a girl?" you smirk. "i guessed as much, mate."

"smartarse," matty huffs. "no. i mean, like, she's proper smart. and serious about it. she wants to study law at uni. i'm totally intimidated by her, but i fancy her so much."

he stares at you expectantly. you stare just as blankly back. "and?"

"and i need your help," matty all but wails. "how do i make her like me?"

bless him. you smile. "well, you're in a band. that helps."

"really? even for pulling geniuses like you and her?"

"not to be dramatic, but that day i walked into the music room to tell you lot to shut up and saw george drumming to brianstorm? life-changing," you blush. matty smiles, genuinely. "but also, just don't be a gobshite, yeah? you actually being quite sensitive is unexpected, and it's nice. really."

"ok. thanks, mate," matty pulls you into a quick hug. "i wish she was coming tonight. be a lot more fun."

"we literally have a weed-filled piñata. we're peaking with fun."

he laughs. "true. and i did only meet her today."

you raise your eyebrows. "wait - on the set of your mum's show? have you told denise?"

"do i look like an idiot? actually," matty shakes his head. "don't answer that. no need to tell me."

"tell you what?" george wanders over to the pair of you, hugging matty and pecking you on the lips. "what are you two gossiping about?"

"what we're buying you for christmas," you say smoothly. "and how amazing a gift i'm now obligated to get you, because you won't let me pay for my own bloody weed."

the boys laugh, and george kisses you on the head. "speaking of, ross thinks he's perfected the piñata height. fancy a bit of stress relief?"

"ew, george, not in my house," matty faux-retches, then grins. "kidding. come on, lovebirds, let's beat the shit out of a unicorn and get stoned."

"and other normal sentences he's said today," george murmurs in your ear, making you giggle as you follow your friend towards the tree.

as you near it, ross holds a cricket bat out to you. "heard you were feeling stressed. have at it, mate."

"thanks, ross," you take the wooden stick, turning it over in your hands before turning to look at the host incredulously. "who the fuck in your family plays cricket?"

"how should i know?" comes matty’s equally-incredulous reply. "just hit the horse, please, i need a fucking zoot."

"fine. here goes," you say. "actually, shouldn't we put something on the ground to catch the joints?"

"good point. here," george pulls off his hoodie and throws it on the grass; you're momentarily distracted by his biceps through his long-sleeved t-shirt. "give it hell, baby."

you smirk, closing your eyes and thinking of the awful exam paper from earlier. all the frustration and stress hits your nervous system like a tidal wave; practically vibrating with rage, you swing the bat and hit the papier-mache before you with a satisfying thwack, denting it. the boys cheer, and it spurs you on even more - within minutes, you've beaten the unicorn to a pulp, its contraband insides (mostly) intact on your boyfriend's hoodie, and your insides the most stress-free they've been in a long time.

breathless, you hand the bat back to a wide-eyed ross, who claps you on the back. "impressive, actually."

"thank you," you bow, the boys laughing as they scramble to pick up the joints. george grabs two for each of you and your hand simultaneously, leading you towards the cushioned loungers near the kitchen window.

he sits first, settling you gently on his lap before pulling a lighter from his pocket. you're suddenly extremely aware of the chilly october evening air, and shuffle around so you can half-lean against george's hard chest; you gaze up at him, all sharp jaw and heavy eyes with the joint between his lips. "is this ok?"

"s'perfect, baby," george smiles, hand tracing patterns against the outside of your thigh. he lifts it, though, to take the joint out of his mouth. "you wanna go first?"

you shake your head. george smoking is an incredibly sexy sight; you want a clear head the first time you see it tonight. the flickering flame sharpens his cheekbones in the most beautiful way as he lights the joint, and the way he draws them in as he inhales it is nothing short of stunning. but nothing compares to the way he exhales the smoke, head thrown back in pleasure and faint moans escaping his lips - your thighs clench ever so slightly as he does, which isn't helped by the way he looks at you as he passes you the weed.

he doesn't seem to fare any better while you smoke, though; your eyes close in contentment when the inhale hits your airways (and a little groan of satisfaction involuntarily leaves you), but you open them to find george biting his lip while he watches yours.

it gives you an idea. passing the joint back, you ask a favour of your boyfriend. "will you shotgun me, please?"

george hums happily. "absolutely, baby."

you shuffle so you're sitting directly on his lap, facing him. whether it's the crispness of the night or the weed or just george himself, you don't know, but you're more aware of this particular bodily position than ever before. there's an energy you can't quite describe crackling in the night air - anticipation, maybe.

whatever it is, you like it.

"ready?" george asks, joint halfway to his lips. you nod, loosely clasping your hands at the nape of his neck and leaning forward. he inhales, your mouth opens, he exhales, and you do your best to take in as much of the smoke as you can. 

even though you've been smoking properly for a little while now, the best highs are always the ones you share with george; he seems to intoxicate you more than the drug does. given how much longer he's been smoking, you'd be forgiven for thinking that he doesn't feel the same way, but the speed with which he quickly lays the joint in a nearby ashtray (thank fuck the healys are a family of smokers, by the way) and crashes his lips to yours suggests otherwise. the crackling in the air ceases, but seems to find a new home in your body; sparks seem to fly from your lips to your brain, overloading the organ until all you can think is george, george, george.

yeah, you love him all right.

[denimini]

Jimin & JK and their NY trip

Since I am already seeing sooo many people talking about the Jikook NY trip being "a company trip," I want to briefly just point out some things.

1. The trip wasn't just for filming content.

Jimin has always been the most considerate member in general. He would never burden one of his friends during their busiest times and add stress to their schedules just to film content, even if the company pressured him. He would least of all do it to JK, whom he loves a lot and whose health he always worries over. JM would never go to NY just to bother JK with filming. He went because he wanted to see JK, and probably he had some other schedule himself. The content was filmed because there was an opportunity for it and the timing was right. That's it.

2. JK wasn't forced to do anything.

JK had previously agreed to film the show. He was just surprised with the timing. Jimin isn't the type of person to force his friends to do anything, least of all when they are busy. Do you people really think JM would go "Hey, JK, I know you are super busy right now, but I'm coming tomorrow, and you're filming with me!" ?! Also, JK himself is not a person who can be forced into things. Jungkook is a man who does what he wants. If he didn't want to film, he simply wouldn't! Especially during his overseas schedule. For this show to happen, both of them had agreed. They both wanted to see each other and didn't mind filming a show, so they did.

3. Filming content doesn't make the trip not special, or Jikook's interactions during it insincere.

Jimin could have filmed with anyone if he simply wanted content. He could have done it with Namjoon (who was not busy at the time). Or with Tae. Or with Suga. Or with anyone. But he didn't. He wanted to do it with JK, and they waited for the opportunity and time for it. They met, and they obviously had a great time. Just look at JK's mannerisms when he talked about the trip, the way he smiled, laughed, and he was so animated and happy just recalling it. Upto 2023, almost all the content we ever had was official, company content, like ITS, Bon Voyage, Memories, etc, but it was always genuine. We should be happy that they decided to film because they did it for us!

[writingquestionsanswered]

Writing with Chronic Illness

strigiformthunderstorm asked: Could you advise on forming a writing routine with a chronic illness? I have several conditions that cause a lot of pain and fatigue, and working part-time takes up nearly all of my energy. I used to write daily but stopped while I was in "survival mode", and now getting in my head about the quality prevents me from writing. I've had success with creating multiple routines to accommodate my fluctuating symptoms, so instead of writing out a schedule, I'm kind of choreographing a dance. For example, right now I'm coming out of a flare up so I'm trying to think of adaptations like writing in bed, taking naps between writing sessions, and being less hard on myself about smoking for my pain while writing + just doing brain dumps if that's what I need to get into the flow of things. I'm also neurodivergent. I'm trying to get to the point I'm actually writing the book (instead of world building/planning) and am making consistent progress.

[Ask edited for length]

A few things that might help:

1 - Don't worry about writing daily or hitting specific word counts. Doing things to "move the needle" are just as important, even if that is doing brain dumps, researching, or looking for inspiration photos.

2 - Try to avoid making writing feel like a stressful activity that your brain will automatically want to avoid. The things you're doing are already on the right track, so continue to give yourself grace, give yourself positive reinforcement for anything that moves the needle, and doing what you can to make writing relaxing and rewarding.

3 - Many writers find that writing sprints are a productive way for them to get words on the page. So, for example, try setting a timer for 10 or 20 minutes (or whatever increment works for you) and write as much as you can during that time. Don't worry about quality (we'll get to that in a minute), just get the words down. Do this a few times a day, and it starts to add up quickly. You may also find that you gather momentum and are able to write more per sprint, sprint for longer periods, and/or include more sprints into your day.

4 - Focusing overly much on quality is probably a bigger obstacle for you right now than anything else. This is by far and away the biggest pitfall writers fall into. Remember: writing is a process that requires editing and revision. No one writes a perfect first draft. There's a reason we call them "rough drafts" and "zero drafts." There's a reason we self-edit and revise. There's a reason we use beta readers, critique partners, and editors. It isn't supposed to be perfect at the beginning. Imagine being a sculptor, taking out a lump of clay, squeezing it to shape it a few times, and then being livid because it isn't a beautiful sculpture. That's what you're doing when you allow your brain to be frustrated about the quality of your writing when you're writing a first draft. You're getting mad because your lump of clay didn't instantly become a beautiful sculpture. If you never let your lump of clay be a lump of clay, and something that looks more like a misshapen whatever rather than the thing you're trying to make, then you'll never get it to the point of actually becoming the beautiful sculpture. You have to let the words on the page be ugly before you can shape them into something beautiful when it's time to edit and revise. Have a look at the following posts for more:

Concentrate on Quantity at First, Not Quality Overcoming Embarrassment Over Own Writing Delaying Writing Out of Fear Worried About Writing Style

5 - As far as routine goes, you're actually already doing what I would have suggested, which is to utilize a variety of different routines that are catered to meet your needs in the moment. Doing the things you're already doing, plus what is mentioned above, will hopefully be enough to get you over this hurdle.

Sending you lots of happy thoughts and hope for progress! ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[scaramouche-writes]

Mini smutshot

Okay, like I promised here y'all go! (Feeding my children) And don't forget, requests ARE open. TW: Fingering, oral sex, raw sex, cunnilingus, degrading acts, and foul language, Scara's a bitch...per usual though. Also I am sooo sorry Kazuha's is short, I couldn't think of what to write for him. Enjoy, loves <3 Y'all have been warned. Don't come at me please 😭😭😭 2.1k words

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Scaramouche/Wanderer:

He was gone again....for work...you sighed. You felt very lonely. It was hard when he had to leave...sure you may have been used to it at this point, but you still couldn't help but feel a twinge of pain in your chest when you heard he had to leave. And to add onto the stress of worrying about him, and when he'd get home, you had to deal with a boss who severely underpays his workers, leading them all to be grumpy. You were supposed to get your paycheck today, and when you didn't, you marched straight over to your boss, who just shrugged and said. "Sounds like a problem that YOU need to take care of. Not me." And my god were you pissed. You were ready to break someones face in. This entire 3 weeks, it's been like this. Get up, go to work, get mistreated, go home, eat dinner alone. It was like that all the time. You were getting so tired and frustrated because of it all. It was just too much for you to take in. When Scaramouche FINALLY came home, he was exhausted and ready to just get wrapped up in your embrace. But you just denied him. You quite literally turned your body away from him, and face the wall, with your arms crossed over your chest....Sure it was petty, but you wanted him to feel the same way as you did, when he left you pent up, and by yourself. Annnnddddd let's just say Scaramouche didn't take that too well. He gripped your shoulders. "Hey, what the hell y/n?! Pay attention to me."

He waved a hand in front of your face "Hello. I'm talking to you!" He said clearly frustrated with your attempts at ignoring him. His deep violet eyes, clearly had a hint of desperation in them. "Fuck off." Was all you said to him, as you shoved his hands off of you. "What's your deal?" Scaramouche asked in a snarky tone "I DON'T have a 'deal' I'm fine" You snapped back "Really? Because to me, you're acting like a little prissy pants." You had already been feeling shitty, and when he said that, you lost it. You quickly snapped your head to face him, and slapped him across the face. The room was silent...the only thing that could be heard, was the slap echoing throughout the room. His head was forced to the side as you hit him. He slowly turned back to face you. Scaramouche looked pissed. Pissed as all hell. He roughly shoved you against the wall "You dare do that to me!?" He was not happy You only glared at him, which fueled the already tense energy of the room. "Don't act like you're everything just because you were chosen for a 'important mission'" You snapped back at him He got up real close and personal to you, so close that you could feel his breath against your lips glaring with his hate filled eyes. "You have NO right to lay a hand on me like that." He answered back. "Do not EVER do that again. Do you understand me?" He asked clearly not in the mood for games. You didn't answer him, which caused him to roughly grab your jaw in one hand, as the other held you to the wall "I SAID do you understand me?" He spoke clearly and loudly "No" You said back, just trying to push his buttons at this point...which he won't lie, it worked. You were severely pent up, and ready to piss him off so much until he fucked you dumb. He growled at you and pushed you farther into the wall. And then out of no where, he suddenly slammed his mouth onto yours. It wasn't pretty, or all that nice. It was sloppy and he kind of hit your teeth with his. His hands went under your shirt, and he started taking off your bra, as he smushed his body onto yours. Once the bra was off, all hell broke lose. Scaramouche rubbed your sensitive nipples in his fingers, twisting and pinching them. You let out a soft cry of pleasure into the kiss. When you moaned Scaramouche smirked wider. He grabbed a fist full of your tit and massaged it in his hand. You whimpered and whine, practically begging for more When he pulled away, he smirked at you "Do you really think you deserve this?" He scoffed "Because after what you pulled, I don't think so." His hands moved from under your shirt, to your ass, he roughly grabbed the piece of flesh in his hands and squeezed. His hands slipped under your skirt, and to your dripping heat. You weren't wearing panties.... "What a naughty girl" Scaramouche mocked "Well, there's only one way you get naughty girls to do what you want" He without warning roughly shoved his fingers into your cunt, and started pumping his fingers in and out of you, with no mercy. You let out a cry of pleasure, as your body begun to shake at the unexpected amount of pleasure that just went through your body, that felt oh so electrifying

Let's just say, you won't be going back to work for a couple of days....

-------------------------------------------------------------- Kazuha:

Kazuha was a quiet and reserved kind of guy. You did do quite a bit to try and get his attention though. Wearing lingerie Saying dirty things Sharing your fantasies Your wants and desires, But nothing seemed to be enough. You wanted more....and he just wasn't giving you his all. You wouldn't stop though. Not until you finally fix this little.....problem....of his. You had been accompanying him on his mission to help the traveler. Though sometimes it felt like he gave the traveler more attention than you. It was frustrating to say the least. You walked hours through different types of environments, and while all of them were pretty in their own way, none of them were as pretty as your white haired boyfriend. He was constantly talking to the traveler and it was no longer just frustrating. You were done with it. So done. And once you called him out for it, all he said was a soft "Sorry" And that was it. No plan on what he was gonna do to fix it, or any comfort. You had all just come back from the fight with the Shogun, and you were currently cleaning his wounds. You sat on the bed with alcohol in your hand dabbing the gash on his back/ You leaned forward, next to his ear and whispered "You gonna stop right?" "Stop what?" Your poor clueless boyfriend asked. You suddenly pressed on his gash, making his back go straight up, and he winced a little. "Hey...what was that for?" He asked still not sure what was going on "Well if you had just promised not to be so touchy with the traveler, we wouldn't have a problem, would we?" You asked switching your position so that you were practically on top of him. Tonight would be the night. Finally. You'd make him go all out. "I guess you care about the traveler more than me." You spoke. "Y-you know that's not true y/n....." Kazuha said a bit flushed at the sudden change of position. "Yes you do. You just love them and want to protect them more than you ever would with me." You said back. You two went on like this for a while. Back and forth "This happened and you don't love me" To "You know that's not how it is." Eventually he got a little fed up with your behavior and without much warning slipped his pants down and moved your panties to the side, slamming you down on his hard cock. You didn't get a chance to adjust before he started moving your hips for you. Kazuha bit his lip and let out heavy breaths. The suddeness of all the pleasure made you throw your head back and let out little groans. "Be quiet please." Was all he said, harshly, just also in a way that you knew he wouldn't hurt you. That night was a long night for you. But hey.....

You asked for it, right.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Xiao:

You liked tracing your fingers along his tattoo. Drawing over the shape of it. You liked to make him sit down after a long day out, and you like to play with his messy blue hair, and trace his tattoo. It was a long day for him today. He came back home, all tired and sore. You offered a massage, but he decline. You wanted to help, but didn't know how.... You even tried to get him to sit down so you could play with his hair, and trace his tattoo...like always, but he was not having it. "No thanks y/n" "Look, I'm not in the mood" "Can you just leave me alone" And that's where you find yourself now... Alone in your room, with your knees to your chest while laying against the headboard, and Xiao out in the hallway pacing....Why was he so stressed? And why did he have to be so mean about it too!? ...You were just trying to help.... You could feel a lump in your throat, and tears in your eyes, but you quickly sniffled and wiped off the tears, clearing your throat. It felt like forever in a day, but finally there was a sudden eager knock on the door. You sighed. It was probably Xiao....you didn't want to talk to him now....especially in fear of letting him see the state you're in just because of his words. It was pathetic....I mean he was just stressed, he didn't mean it....right? So why were you so upset? You couldn't figure it out... The knock rang throughout the walls again, "y/n?" "Can we talked please?" He asked, with desperation coming out of his tone. You could tell he felt bad by the guilt that was evident in his tone. "What?" You asked back to him bluntly. The door slowly opened to reveal a short guilt-ridden man. Xiao went in cautiously going slow to make sure you were okay with this. Once he realized you weren't gonna throw a fit about it, he walked in more and shut the door behind him. At this point you had laid down and turned away from him. You couldn't look him in the eyes....at least not right now. Currently Xiao took a seat on the foot of the bed. He gently rubbed your legs, and turned you over to face him "Listen.....I'm...sorry...I shouldn't have been so rude when you were just trying to help." Xiao said with an apologetic soft smile. You sat up in bed and hugged him tightly. "It's okay...I know you didn't mean it" Xiao gladly accepted the hug, and squeezed you back tightly, letting his hands go under your arms, and around your body to meet once again. You both stayed like that for a couple of minutes. Soon Xiao pulled away and planted a kiss to the top of your head. "I'm gonna make it up to you, okay?" Xiao stood up and pulled you to the edge of the bed, grabbing you by your ankles. He slowly hooked his middle finger in your pants, and pulled them down. He tossed the now discarded pants on the ground...somewhere. He slowly got to his knees and spread your thighs open. You blushed and on instinct, you tried to shut your legs, to which he rubbed your thighs and looked up at you with a soft gaze. "Relax.....I'll take care of you...Don't worry." He then slowly moved closer to your wet pussy. The suddeness of the situation couldn't help but make you horny. He gently spread your lips apart with his index and middle finger, he then gave your cunt a few kitten licks before attaching his lips to your sensitive bud, and sucking. Your hands instantly went to grip Xiao's hair, in an attempt to get more friction. You threw your head back and moaned loudly "O-oh go-d~ X-xiao, yes...yes please that feels so good!" You whined out. Xiao only smirked and sucked your poor swollen bud harder. You crossed your thighs around his back, pulling him closer, causing him to moan against your heat, sending vibrations up your spine. I'd say he made up for his mistake, wouldn't you?

[nevadas-night-time-novelist]

Auditor, Phobos, 2BDamned and Sanford with a reader that overworks themselves. Prioritizing work over mental and physical health, pushing themselves to their breaking point, skipping meals and only getting a few hours of sleep. I just need these four in particular to tell me to take care of myself and care about me argggh

Overworked reader

Audi, Phobos, Doc, Sanford

CW: bit of a mental spiral on San's end, ends well tho.

Burnouts a bitch man, don't wear yourself thin over shit, y'hear?

Auditor

"Are the chef's meals not to your liking?" You nearly jumped out of your seat when Auditor's ghostly whisper filled your ear. Casting your aching, tired eyes from your paperwork at the once hot meal, still arranged with care on the plate, completely untouched from the moment it left the kitchen.

"Oh, no. Of course not. They're good, don't worry." You offered him a weak smile. "I'll have it later, I just need to finish this up." Audi's eyes narrowed as you gestured meekly to your desk, piled high with reports, cloning records, casualty tallies, and other such boring admin work.

"It's cold." He grumbled, spinning your chair to face him, hands on his hips. "You're going to really hurt yourself and burn out if you keep pulling these awkward hours. Don't think I haven't noticed you slipping from our bed to come back to this. Did you forget how light a sleeper I am?"

Audi's stern demeanour dropped as your features fell, already feeling low because of how your body was struggling, now having your boss/lover add to that. "I just need to be able to keep up with you. What use am I really if I can't handle a fraction of the work you do?"

His hand rested under your chin, thumb delicately stroking your cheek. "You could never keep up with me, my flame, I was made to handle this. You're just a delicate mortal, you do more than enough without stressing yourself trying to level with me. Allow me to finish this later, mea vita, you are going to get a hot, fresh meal while I draw a bath for us, and after you will get the rest your body needs. That's an order, from your employer, understood?"

"Yes, but-"

He cut you off. "No 'ifs, ands, or buts,' You are going to hurt yourself, and I refuse to allow anyone to hurt you, even self inflicted pain. I, as your partner and boss, will clear this burden for you. When I asked for your best, I meant the best you can consistently handle, not this. You're not yourself, and I command you seek out that old self that I fell for and bring them back to me instantly."

Phobos

Being the director's lover had essentially no downsides, nobody spoke a bad word around you, people helped you far more than before, not to mention the adoration of the most powerful figure in the physical realm. However, that same man would often breathe down your neck, commanding you to stay by his side constantly.

Phobos relished in you, watching you, listening to you, being around you. He wished to be adored equally in return, however your work proved to be a distraction from him. He was... a tad obsessive, but how could he not be? He's a god, it was only right you'd devote yourself to him and him alone.

"Leave that alone will you? Your god requires your attention." A large clawed hand rested on your shoulder, the other pulling down his bandages from his mouth. "Your recent neglect of me is not going unnoticed, dear."

You rubbed your aching eyes, staring at a computer screen all day and most of the night irritated them. "I'm sorry Bo, but there's a lot of work that needs reviewing, I've got weeks of backlog to go through, and Christoff, Crackpot and Gonne have all submitted new reports today with pages and pages of intel to go through."

His hands wrapped around your middle, he lifted you up and took your place on the chair, resting you in his far more comfortable lap. "Bah, they're not worthy of your time. I'll command someone else to do it, the short fat one, whatever his name is. He enjoys paperwork and the like."

"Hofnarr is no doubt as swamped as I am." He took your face in one of his hands, his cracked and damaged lips pressing against your cheek.

"Someone else then, if it pleases you. Whatever it takes for you to spend time with me." You leaned into him, your back pressing against his chest, and he emitted a deep purr. "I am a god amongst men, dear, I don't beg for what I desire. I take it. And yet I allow you this honour. So please..."

Your stomach rumbled against his hand. "Harumph! Neglecting yourself as much as you've neglected me?! How dare you, enough is enough. I command you take care of yourself!" Phobos picked you up with ease, holding you level to his eye. To anyone else, he'd be holding them by their collar, or neck to meet his gaze, but with you, he was softer. A hand under your rump and the other on your back, supporting your weight comfortably.

"You are the lover of a god, think how pitiful it would look if I can't even take care of my equal? You stand above others, the right hand of my throne. Your duties have changed, lesser beings will take charge of them. Your only priorities are yourself and me, and the family we will create." Phobos snapped his fingers, and one of the guards at the door came forward.

"See to it that the chefs prepare your God's favourites, find someone to take their duties on and allow them to be truly indulged as they should be." Phobos looked back to you, his eye narrowing. "I will tear this world asunder for you, and build it up as you desire. I will give you anything your heart pines for, never again shall you be run ragged like this."

Phobos was self assured, a god of the highest order, surrounded by weaker, lesser beings. And yet here he was, begging at your altar. He wished you'd devote yourself equally to worshipping you as he did, and he would make damn sure that happened.

2BDamned

3 AM. Doc was in the kitchen, boiling some water over the stove. Hank has smashed the coffee maker earlier in the day, said he'd accidentally dropped the thing, yet couldn't explain the crowbar in his hands. Doc gritted his teeth, damn Wimbleton, making his hard job harder with their stupid thoughtless actions.

He had no doubt the fool had burned themselves on the machine and gone overboard against the poor helpless thing in revenge. Now here he stood, using the stove to make both his coffee and his snack. Instant noodles, his saving grace in the world. Easy to prepare, quick to eat, and filling.

With bleary, tired eyes, you wandered into the dim kitchen, hearing Doc grumbling to himself about 'Getting that moron to find another working machine or he'll have his spine inserted upside down next time.'

"Hey sweetheart." Yawning and setting your tablet down, you wrapped your arms around his midriff and leaned your face into his back. One hand pulled way from the stove, running down your arm before resting atop your hand, feeling the ring around your finger.

"You should be asleep, love." Doc murmured, his animosity towards Hank gone in the wind. You inhaled deeply, basking in his familiar scent.

"I could say the same to you, Kyle." He let out a soft 'Hm.', agreeing without agreeing. You were right, of course. "Debugging with Dei was going well, till he nodded off. San came by on one of his usual bathroom breaks and picked him up."

Doc poured the water into his noodle cup. "You want some coffee?" He took your favourite mug out of the cupboard.

"I thought you wanted me to sleep." You teased tiredly.

"You're my spouse. I know you well enough to know that's not gonna happen anytime soon, even if I would like it if you did." He tossed some powdered milk into the cups along with the beans. "We don't have any sugar left I'm afraid, or sweetener. It's become so scarce these days. Ration packages can't even supply a tiny packet anymore."

"I can get sugar anytime I've got you around." Doc smiled and turned off the hob, turning around to pull you into his arms. "Can I get some now?"

As far as you two were concerned, nothing else existed, everything except what was in both your arms was null and void. He tilted his head down slightly, lips catching yours softly. Butterflies fluttered in your tummy, they flared up every time your husband kissed you.

You rested your head on his chest, it was rare you two had a truly private moment together, as much as you both tried. Being enemies of the state was hard work, who'd have thought?

"You should really lay down dear." Your eyes fluttered open, and you looked up to him. You hadn't even realised you'd started dozing off in his arms.

"No, I've got work to do." You yawned, and Doc chuckled softly.

"You're really stubborn sometimes, you know that?" He picked up both coffees and his noodles. "Tell you what, grab your tablet and we can get cosy in bed together. Work can wait until later, I think we've overdue some private couple time."

Nestled in the crook of Doc's arm felt like the safest place in the world, even with coffee in your system, you couldn't help but fall asleep with him. Trust and love deep rooted, he was your sanctuary.

And damn it, he was going to get you into a healthier sleep routine.

Sanford

It'd been a couple weeks since you'd seen Ford, Doc had sent him off on recon work with Deimos and a splinter group from a faction allied with the SQ, they'd been on the other side of Nevada having heard whispering of something dangerous settling out there.

Two weeks of silence left you anxious, pacing around often, skipping meals and staying up into the early hours of the morning. Longing makes the heart sick, and a sick heart makes the body weak.

The only think you could do to keep your mind occupied was cleaning out the gun stash, checking over the stocked rounds repeatedly, despite the numbers never changing, cleaning already dirt and grime free steel.

A scrubbing brush in hand, you scraped at one of the many swords Hank had salvaged, violently jolting the bristles back and forth over either rust, or really crusted on blood just above the hilt.

Doc usually kept you in the loop of long jobs, sometimes you'd even be in walkie talkie range of your partner and could hear his voice. He could be hurt, he could be dead, you'd be none the wiser, and that was maddening.

Of course you weren't needy and dependant on him, that'd be too much, but just a sign he was okay would've been enough to give you peace of mind. It's the not knowing that drove you to dark places.

Bang!

You jumped in your seat as the front door slammed. "Baby, you here? I'm back." Dropping the blade, you got to you feet and rushed to the door.

"Sanford, you're okay?!" You leaped into his arms, and he caught you easily. Oh sweet security, your world had come home to you safely.

"Yeah babe," San leaned back slightly to get a good look at you, his loving gaze turning to concern. "uh, hope you don't mind me sayin' doll/stud, but you look like hell." His hands brushed over your hair. "...When did you last shower?"

Suddenly you felt rather embarrassed, it'd been a.... couple days at least. Probably about a week since you'd stopped properly taking care of yourself. Swapping meals out for multiple junk snacks, a fucked up sleeping schedule consisting of occasional naps but mostly anxious pacing and activity.

"Uhm..." That was an answer enough for him.

"Baby," Sanford rubbed his cheek, clearing off some dust from his face. "you need to take care of yourself." He sighed and took off his sunglasses. "Have you even been eating properly?"

You didn't meet his gaze. "Okay. Tell you what," He took off his dirty tank top and tossed it aside. "I'll pull out something from the freezer, shove it in the oven while we get a nice shower, and then we can eat and get some rest." Just being near him, hearing his melodic voice again was enough to bring you to a sense of normalcy.

Sanford was fine, he was alive, he was here.

"Things have just been a bit... off without you." You sighed, clinging to his frame, almost afraid if you let him go, he'd run off for another two weeks, or longer. "Sorry, it's just been a lot to deal with, not knowing where you were, if you were safe... It's been hard."

"I get it. I do, I really do," Sanford had his own experiences with deep depression, despite being the large stoic type, the horrors of war, what he and his friends had to do to get an advantage against everything haunted him. "fight, flight, freeze is a real thing, but you can't just shut down baby. You gotta keep fightin, keep yourself in good shape 'cause it's a scary world out there."

"I know. It's easier said than done though." Sanford pulled out a tray of his legendary frozen mac n cheese, you hadn't checked the freezer since he'd left, otherwise that would've been long gone. You didn't know how he did it, but it was godly each time he made it.

"I get that." He shoved the tray into the oven, flicking switches to heat up the frozen dish. "You gotta change how you think, baby." You watched him take off his bandanna, revealing his hair. Or lack thereof.

"You shaved your head?" Usually he'd grow out his hair, style it into long locs and keep them tied back and under his bandanna, but once in a blue moon he'd get bored of maintaining them, and shave it off to start again.

Sanford ran a hand over his scalp, feeling the small curls starting to reappear. "Yeah, easier than trying to keep it clean out there. Dusty as hell." His hands came to rest on your shoulders, turning you to the bathroom. "No bother, I've got your hair to care for now. I'mma spoil you rotten."

Years of caring for his baby siblings had taught the beefcake that just telling someone what to do usually didn't help, but doing it along side them helped solidify the action. He'd help you get cleaned up, get back to eating proper food and getting proper sleep.

He needed to fall into the routine too, sleeping rough in trucks was a pain in his back, and access to his comfy old bed would do him wonders to getting decent sleep again. A full belly and his favourite person in the entire world cuddling into his pecs definitely helped too.

Yes, he needed this just as much as you did.

[chrollo-lucilfers-chains]

Hiii I only read few of your posts about chrollo because I am stressed due to my exams 😔 but as soon as they are over I am going to read all of them because the ones i read are amazing!

But could I request a really sweet and gentle chrollo? 🥺 because there are so many yandere chrollo (which i also enjoy reading) on tumblr and so few of fluff chrollo like maybe chrollo who helps his s/o to relax and tell her that everything is fine? 🫂

And I also apologize for my bad English since its not my first language 💀

No worries love, I feel you with exam season...

You close the door behind you with a huff and groan, leaving behind a wet trail of water. Finally this shitty day will be over!

You'd went to a Cafe to get some studying in. Usually this works great for you and the buzzing environment helps you focus, but today was just not it. Apparently three families had decided that today would be the perfect day to have a family lunch and neither the kids nor the parents felt the need to be discreet about the incredible intricacies of their abismally boring private lives.

Coincidentally, on the way back, a sudden rainstorm had decided to make your day even worse, with making you soaked and you having to sprint home.

Now you just feel bad for not having done nearly as much as you'd originally planned for the day and you're cold and wet on top of it.

Sighing in self pity, you drop your keys into the little bowl at the door, relishing in the familiar quiet of your flat.

There is some light shining from the study so you make your way to the door. Peeking into the room your mouth forms a smile.

Chrollo is sitting in your beloved armchair, reading one of his books.

"Hello dear, welcome home," He says and reads one more sentence before tearing his eyes away from the page to look up at you with his steel gray eyes.

Before he can say anything else, you crawl on his lap and slump into his arms, burying your face in his chest with yet another dramatic groan of frustration.

He lets out a chuckle as you rub your wet face on his shirt.

"Hard day studying?" He asks, stroking your cold cheek with his thumb. You nod and wrap your arms around him in a tight hug. He pulls you closer as well and boops your hairline with his nose.

Slowly, the cold from you body begins to dissipate, wrapped in his embrace.

"I feel like I haven't done nearly enough for the exams that are coming up soon. It was just soo much and the cafe was soo loud today... " You sniff. "I couldn't concentrate at all!"

Chrollo listens to your complaining, while stroking your hair calmly. You look up at him and he smiles, quickly kissing your lips.

"I'm sure you did as well as you could, given the situation at hand. You've been studying so much the last few days too so don't worry. You'll be fine!"

He's so pretty in the low light of the study. Rain and the evening darkening the sky outside. Now that you're inside, it's quite the nice sound, to hear the pitter patter on the windows and the storm outside blowing through the street.

Listening to his sympathetic voice you smush your face back into his chest. He smells nice, you notice...

"I also got drenched on the way back," you murmur quietly and he laughs at that.

"Yes, I can feel that, dear. You're quite literally sitting on top of me." The hand on your waist squeezes your side as if to bring home the point that you're getting him all wet.

"Sorry." You bump your head against his peck with a smile, not sorry at all. But he only chuckles and pats your head in a gentle motion.

"It's fine. I was going to wash the shirt tomorrow anyways. Might as well add the pants and your clothes to that."

Your smile widens. Surely, your boyfriend is the best of all the boyfriends in the world.

Chrollo softly lifts up your chin to look at you. You blink at him and he presses a kiss to your ice-cold nose.

"We should quickly hop in the shower together, you know? For warming-up purposes only, of course." You snort and kiss him properly on the lips.

"Of course."

[erabu-san]

hello! im new here, so my apologies if you have already mentioned things im about to ask. also i don't mean to offend you, just curious

you ship cynilou if im not wrong. do you ship them bc you don't think nilou is underage and cyno isn't or do you ship them knowing it but not finding it a problem? why do you like them as a pair? and what's your opinion on hainilou/haikaveh/cynonari?

Hello ! (First i apologize for my english again hahaha write a lot again)

For me Nilou is a young adult 19 to 23 yrs old. (A bit like Tighnari haha)

I love them as pair because Nilou is like a fresh air for Cyno imo ?? I started to ship them when I learn Cyno's point of view about art, but also how he understands Nilou's passion (in Sumeru society/Akademiya era when art wasn't the best thing).

At first there are their dynamics, cute at the surface : sunshine x unexpressive, sun x moon

Then we learn more ! Cyno can sense Nilou's enthousiasm about dancing. And he understands Nilou pretty well :

Cyno about Nilou : "...It has become integral of her being." // Nilou's Hobbies : "My life is dance or dance is my life ... [....] Anyway, I'll just keep on dancing."

Cyno about Nilou : "I hope she will always be able to use the art she loves to bring happiness to other people." // About Nilou Dance and Wisdom : "... You don't have to understand what you're seeing to enjoy watching it. If I can use my movements to demonstrate the beauty and meaning of dance, then I'm happy."

I would also add that it is pretty cute from Cyno saying that she brings happiness while dancing because Cyno also watched Nilou's performance (in Kaveh's trailer for example). It means that it makes him happy haha !

Nilou (about Cyno) said she doesn't like interacting with people from Akademiya because they don't see art in a kindly way. But by her tone, she was positively surprise to learn that Cyno plays TCG ! There is a parallel between Art and TCG. What a coincidence because Cyno consider TCG like a form of art ! (For Cyno TCG is an art but for other it is just a card game... Nilou's could also understands Cyno's passion, and his point of view about art). Nilou's even did a buffet for Cyno (archon quest, return the post of General Mahamatra).

They were a cute interaction of them i dont remember well but- Nilou's asking Cyno to be more happy. Cyno answered by it is not question of being happy, and he has to work but she asked him to try to smile like her or smth like that and he said he would try. But that was so cute bahaha my cylou's heart was pretty happy 😭 and it is also cute because when you talk to Cyno after this scene when they enjoying all their meal, he said that buffet wasn't bad at all (he was a bit worried before) wHILE MAKING THIS FACE ????

LOOK AT HIM ALL SMILY ENJOYING MEALS WITH NEW FRIENDS HE MADE DURING THE WHOLE ADVENTURE 😢😢😢 And then after Sumeru Archon quest, we can see Cyno being more relaxed, rest, playing more and all. Like.. he is a bit a more accessible ?? I love the idea that, he really tried to be happy like Nilou recommended.

Nilou gives a lot of positive for Cyno, but it is also reciprocate.

In the archon quest, bro showing his biggest green flag : he is SUPPORTIVE. Telling to Nilou's to have more confidence on herself because he knows she has the capacity ! When you read Nilou's voiceline/do her quest, you can easily notice that Nilou is a bit stressed and is not sure about herself. And it is only HC but Cyno understanding how passionate Nilou is, how dedicated she is on her dance, is actually important !

I love seeing Nilou as independant woman (i just love independant woman). I am sure Cyno (also busy as he is) would respect it, but he would also be there for her because this man is caring (he would also assists to all her dance show). Nilou has also positive impact on Cyno, and might help him to improve his social life. Oh gosh I am sure she would gently and genuinely smile and listen Cyno rambling about his hyperfixation bahaha like during the event 😭😭💕

Why I love them as pair, it is because Cyno is my actual comfort character. And him being happy makes me happy ! Cyno can call Cyrus Lisa Tighnari Collei (my HC but Faruzan too) as family, he can call Kaveh Alhaitham Candace Dehya Faruzan Traveler and more as friends, and Nilou as lover sounds romantic in my ears.

About hainilou, it is cute but not appealing for me, I am neutral about it. (If i can add... all Nilou's ship are adorable. Wlw and mlw. Live laugh love Nilou!!!)

About Haikaveh, I enjoy the ship ! (My favorite flavor of haikaveh is a one-sided love alhaitham have for kaveh. Bitter-sweet, miscomprehension, sometime wholesome and funny moments, slow burn)

The romantic ship between Tighnari and Cyno makes me uncomfortable. I would be grateful if people could respect this when I said "don't tag my post as ship". (Thank you for those who are doing it !)

But them being friends/bro-mate is an actual comfort and it helps me to sleep well everyday ! That's why I prefer to use tighnari&cyno than ship name when I am talking about them

Hope it answers your question !! Have a nice day anon, don't forget to drink water ! 💕💕💕

[samssims]

Hi Sam! I was wondering if I could ask for some advice on how to make simblr fun again? I love storytelling (it's how I have fun with the game) but lately with writing posts and even in game, I just find myself stressing over if it's good/interesting enough or if I took good screenshots, if my writing is good, etc. I love this game and sharing my stories with this community, so it sucks to feel like this. Thank you sm ♥

Oh Nonny, how I feel this pain. I wish I had a sure fire answer to this but sadly there isn't just one thing that will work.

I will put some advice below for some things that have worked for me in my experience if you're interested in trying them out to try to find that spark again!

Now I have been on tumblr sharing my sims since 2013 so I have seen the community change a lot. Things change, people come and go, it's just the natural way of things. So a lot of the time your community can change around you and so a few years ago sims storytelling was really popular and it was the thing everyone was doing. And I mean everyone.

But now things have sort of fallen off or shifted and there is no shame in that for those who moved onto other things and hobbies. Sims storytelling, at it's core, is a hobby. No one is making money off of it (unless you write it all down and get it published in which case, hell yeah go you!)

That being said, finding your spark again is going to be finding what YOU like about storytelling in the sims.

So here are some tips you can try out in the game to keep it fresh and exciting:

Play the Game

The game has changed a lot and added a lot. It came out in 2014. It's about to be 10 years old. With expansions still being added. Honestly having a family where you can just play through what the game offers you can offer inspiration on how to use in game things for story related things later on.

I have found having a lowkey gameplay (for yourself or even for your blog if you are posting) is an easy way to stay active in the community while keeping things low stakes and casual for yourself while you work on finding your spark again.

Change Up your Post Style

Idk about you Nonny, but nothing gets me less motivated than having to edit photos. If I could just point, shoot, and post, I would have content coming out my ears. Which is what I started doing with my Princess Legacy. All I do is crop it. I add some things here and there but really it's all pretty much easy.

Now I have done it all.

Prose on photos.

Prose under photos:

Icons Only:

Gameplay Only:

And finally just cropped:

Now what is the best? That is personal preference especially for the project you are doing. However I have definitely discovered the crop method to be SUPER helpful.

It makes me not have to worry about the whole photo. Sometimes I have this SUPER awesome detail in the back of a photo but when I crop them I lose all that. Which is not good for storytelling lets be honest but does force me to focus on what is actually important in the shot.

Example: Here is the full cottage photo from above You can see that I cropped out a lot of the cottage in favor of being able to see the deer and swans as i thought that was more a cozy fairytale vibe than just the cottage itself. I lost a lot of this detail yet the point still came across.

TBH the paired crop photos also makes me cut out a lot of access photos if they don't have a pair. It's sort of made me realize how much I don't need to take screenshots of. Though I am definitely an overtaker of photos so I always have plenty to choose from. Sometimes I even queue them then look back and realize they aren't needed and delete. It's humbled me a bit.

I could break down every one of these posting styles but that's a whole other thing you didn't ask about.

TLDR of this section is to experiment with how you post. You can have a lot of fun with that.

If Something is Boring, Skip it.

Do you hate the infant stage? Age them past it. Do you hate the winter months in game? Set seasons to never have winter. Do you hate in game holidays ruining your plans? Delete them all from your calendar. Is it a crucial part to your story? Not anymore. Write around it. Or find some creative angles and dialogue to write over it.

Make the game fit you!

Follow the Inspo

Have inspiration to make a new sim in CAS? Do it! Want to make a whole new save? Have an idea for one scene that could start a whole story but you have nothing else for it? DO IT!!!

The game is supposed to be fun. If you have inspiration for a project, live in it. Have fun with it.

But Sam, what if only lasts 2 weeks and I never touch it again?

Me too, babes. Happens to me all the time. Own it. Keep it around in case you want to mess with it later. Have 10 million saves. It's your life and if it brings you a moment of joy to work on it, then it totally is worth it.

If you want to be like me: Be chaotic and post it too. Then private the posts later when you decide to never touch it again. Never delete tho. I always tend to regret deleted things.

Find Your Community

You should ultimately write and create for yourself, but find others who are doing it too! Lift them up as well! Use one day a week on your blog to give reblogs or shoutouts to your fellow creators and writers! It's all about lifting each other up and making friends who all have the same hobby as us.

Try New Challenges

A lot of my sims storytelling started from inspiration around legacy challenges. I loved to take challenge rules and figure out how to make a story around them. But remember: Rules are made to be broken. Especially in favor of a good story.

If you are working on a current challenge/story, find another to merge with it or to give yourself a heck of a fun plot twist. There are no rules!

Have Fun!

This is sort of the whole crux of it, right? And if you're not having fun then...

Take a Break

You are not beholden to your queue! Let it die out! Disappear for 6 months. Return when you want. Go play Animal Crossing or BG3 or whatever it is at the moment. Sims is a hobby. But it does not have to be your ONLY hobby. Let your brain rest.

In my case, whenever I leave the sims I am always filled with ideas and ready to come back in like 3 days.

This could also mean take a break from your save too. Maybe spend some time in CAS. Or in build mode. Or cleaning out your mods. You can still do sims things while letting your story brain rest.

TLDR:

There is no right answer for this, Nonny. I promise your photos are all gorgeous and your story is wonderful! But creativity like anything ebbs and flows so give yourself that grace to let yourself rest and just enjoy the game again, or enjoy time away from it! You deserve it you superstar creator!

[lhoandbehold]

What Does a 100 Hour Work Week in Animation Feel Like So I saw (and commented on) this post remarking on the working conditions on the new Spiderverse film which were less than stellar. I'm not surprised, I was literally talking to animator friends about how it seemed like it was a tough project even as the trailers were coming out. But I think we see news like this break all the time - ah a game got delayed. Don't worry. "Oh the dev team is working 90 hour weeks until it comes out". Red Dead Redemption infamously had a manager brag about 100 hour weeks. Some members of the team on Sonic the Hedgehog did 120 hour weeks to update the model to something with much less human-looking teeth. It's all very abstract. So I thought I might provide a little insight into how different workweeks feel for me. For context, I am an able-bodied high functioning person who is, by all accounts neurotypical, but who still struggles with overstimulation and needs a lot of therapy. If I feel this way, then imagine how someone disabled is faring under the same conditions, and consider how much of a barrier of entry this really is to the industry. Disclaimer: I'm going to be describing a not great work/life balance from a practical point of view. I work a lot. I try not to. I don't always get it right. Please don't think of what you're about to read as how you 'should' be working in the industry. Whenever possible, insist on your rights to rest and live a life outside work.

40hr week - What would be considered a standard workweek. Animation is a thinking heavy job, so I’m usually tired at the end of the week, but I do still have energy to see friends, do personal work, go for walks, work out. I would prefer a shorter week but it’s doable.

50hr week - Probably my personal average if we’re being honest. This is not always due to the animation job itself - for financial reasons, I usually have small sidejobs next to full-time employment and the hours add up. This week works alright so long as I plan them well. Mealpreps, using google calendars to make sure I'm carving out time for workouts, cleaning and a bit of rest.

60hr week - I have spent a lot of months this year pushing 60 hour weeks and let me tell you, I don't like it. I'm tired. Social life and personal projects go on the backburner. I'm less delighted, less inspired. I still work out, but less. Wrists begin to tingle, shoulders sometimes get more sore than I like. If I fail to mealprep I end up spending so much money on prepackaged lunches. I'm processing stress in my dreams, so I often wake up in the middle of the night and lie awake. Light brainfog starts kicking in. I'm more sensitive to things not going my way because I just don't have much energy left to problemsolve anything that isn't work.

70hr week - This is when I personally start considering a schedule to be 'crunch'. For some the number is higher and for some lower, but for me, a 70hr workweek starts to really fray me at the edges. I have time for work, the commute and sleep, and not much else. I try to get in workouts where I can, to avoid my RSI flaring up too badly. I am no longer seeing friends. I am no longer drawing for myself. I'm not reading books. Maybe I watch a youtube video over dinner. It's not a state I can (or should) sustain for very long. 80hr week - This is where I'm hitting my ceiling. I have done this on rare occassions. My personal max is 85 hours of work in a week, and the personal record of maintaining it was 4 weeks, and those weeks were a shitshow. Cannot recommend. Towards the end, my shoulder was on fire and I had recurring headaches. I was doing all of my stretches and still managing the gym, and somehow it was never enough to soothe the RSI symptoms I can otherwise usually manage. The should injury I got during that month still haunts me to this day.

And I cannot stress enough, I never made it to those famed 100 hour weeks. I honestly don't know how anyone manages anything above 60 for an extended period of time. I know people sleep under their desks to avoid commuting time cutting into work hours, but i just feel like the brainfog would render me incapable of making anything good or even passable.

[uglypastels]

eddie getting his wisdom teeth pulled !! you know what im talking about !!!

double combo deal with a request for a reader who is scared of the dentist so Eddie goes with her :)) hope you enjoy it. i am kind of about to pass out since its 2 am so this might not be perfect haha, but if anything that might just add to post-op Eddie

warnings: swearing, friendly teasing, pillow fight/playful hitting, in casual conversation the mention of sexual content [masturbation, oral] and innuendos. dentistry, the mention of getting teeth pulled out [obviously]. mention of deep anaesthetic.

masterlist // join taglist // inbox

It was no secret that Eddie Munson had a very… daredevil spirit. He also had a lot of curiosity that needed to be filled up, which ended up with him trying many things people would never even have considered in their wildest dreams. It was a miracle that he had not ended up in the hospital. 

Another thing about Eddie you should, and do, know. He likes to have a good time. And what an excellent time to be had if it's enhanced with a little extra. His go-to was weed, special K if he felt very adventurous (and bored), and he had dabbled in some other things. But there was one thing he still had not done. 

'You are insane,' was your immediate response to his newest suggestion. 'Like, actually, clinically insane.' 

'Oh c'mon, I think it's gonna be a great time, and you're going in already, so why not hit two stones with one bird.' 

'Two birds with one stone.' 

'Where has your imagination gone, y/n,' he sighed, leaning back on the sofa. You just stared at him, dumbfounded. 'Anyway, I already made the appointment, so, go cry about it.' 

'The fuck you didn't– Eddie!' you threw, no, actually, you just hit him with the pillow repeatedly. 'Why are you such a moron.'

'I'm doing you a favour here, missy.' he pointed at you, the joint hanging casually between his fingers. 'When you're up there, worrying about me getting high off my ass, you'll be too busy freaking out when he's drilling into you, so, hard.' He made some suggestive movements and emphasised groans to pull in the joke even better, which resulted in another hit with the fluffy pillow from you. 

'You're a moron, Eddie Munson.' you said every word between a hit until he stopped you by bringing his hand forward and catching the pillow mid-movement. 

'And you,' he blew the smoke out over your face, 'need to come up with some better insults.' His mind was set in stone; there was no going back. His idiotic plan was set into motion, 

And what was this plan?

  Well, you saw it all happen the following Thursday, when both of you skipped class, legally for once, and were sitting in the waiting room of the dentist's office. Your leg bounced around as Eddie looked through a magazine– a cosmo, unfortunately for you, reading some of the articles aloud for everyone else in the room to hear. 

'Tip number six, 6. "Don't let stressing about an orgasm ruin the fun:

''Masturbate clitorally to orgasm before having intercourse. If it is possible, let your lover masturbate you—" hey, I wasn't done with that!' He said as you ripped the pages out of his hands. 

'No, I think you were actually, Jesus, Munchie.' you put the magazine back in the rack of others, letting the pretty blue eyes of the lady on the cover staring right back at you. Eddie was giggling when you sat back down. 'Do you have no self-respect?' You hissed out now, feeling the need to compensate with silence for Eddie's boisterousness. 

'I'm not the one who put those things on display at the fucking dentist,' he leaned over and whispered back, but still quite loudly. 'Also, I'm hungry.' 

'Too bad.' You had told him to eat before, but no, his stubborn little ass just had to go against everything you suggested. And the smoke he joined right before getting to the dentist's office was probably not helping his appetite. God, this was such a bad idea. 

Not that you had anything to do with it. You were just an innocent bystander, trying to get their filling fixed. Meanwhile, the degenerate besides you had already gotten stoned out of his mind as he pregamed for what was to come. You didn't know if your nerves were coming from your own appointment or what Eddie was getting into. 

You had pulled two other magazines out of Eddie's grip before a door opened and a man in a white coat walked up, looking at his clipboard. 'Munson?' He looked up, finding Eddie raising his hand. No, but you were supposed to be getting your procedure done first. This wasn't right. 

'I'm sorry, but he had had an appointment at 4, while mine is at…' you checked the clock that read quarter to 4, 'well, now.' 

'Don't worry, Dr Fields will be with you shortly. You'll be in room 3, most likely,' the doctor said, leading Eddie to the door where a number 4 was written. Close enough. But you still wanted to protest. That was why you had come together, so he could support you while you then could watch over him as he burned up some more of his brain cells with this ludicrous experiment. 

Eddie turned around just before walking into the room, giving you a thumbs up. You smiled weakly and waited another few minutes for your dentist, Dr Fields, to show up with his little clipboard. Then, it was time to face your fears. 

The procedure went smoothly, thankfully. You lay down in the chair as they blinded you with the bright light for about ten minutes. You tried to breathe steadily through your nose, ignoring the taste of the gloves in your mouth. Instead, you concentrated on Eddie, who was in the room next to yours, getting his damn wisdom teeth pulled out. You could still not believe he was doing it, and for what? Just to feel how it is to be high on the anaesthesia. 

No, not entirely true. He had been recommended to get the procedure done, but it wasn't necessary… but it was enough for Eddie to take the opportunity and go for it. How often would this opportunity present itself before him again? 

Your mouth felt numb and sore at the same time as you thanked your dentist and got out of the room, kind of hoping Eddie would be waiting outside for you, but he was still in the procedure room. You could hear the machines whirring from inside. So, even though you had been done already and wanted nothing more but to leave the place, you stayed behind in the waiting room, counting down the minutes until that other doctor would come out and tell you to pick your Eddie up and get home. 

But time wouldn't move, or so it seemed, so you picked up a magazine– the same Cosmpolitan Eddie had been reading you– and flipped through the pages, ignoring the all-knowing glint the receptionist was giving you. That is not what you had been looking for. Instead, you wanted to see the personality quiz at the back.  

After figuring out that "yes, you do have to dump him", you put it away on the seat next to you and stared at the door. The feeling in your cheek was coming back. Not much later, and you could probably smile again correctly. 

And then you heard the machines stop making their awful sounds, and the doctor walked back out, almost surprised to see you as if he expected Eddie to step out of there alone. 

'Is he ok?' you got up, already prepared to walk in. 

'Yes, yes, of course. He might  still be a bit loopy, so don't be too rough on him for the next few hours.' 

'Right.' You could feel your mouth tug irregularly on one side as it was still out cold. But you walked past the dentist and into the room where Eddie was sitting. 

'Hey,' you said softly so as not to startle him, but this was Eddie you were talking about; of course, he would be the one to scare you with his loud call of your name. It made you wince, even. It was unexpected for him to see him have so much energy after that. 

'y/n, c'mere.' He waved his hand to you until you were close enough that his knee touched yours. He took your hand in his, swaying it broadly from one side to the other; his heavy lids covered his eyes that followed as your hands moved. 'How do I look?' He asked, looking back at you. There was no thought behind his eyes, which were big and hazy, out of focus. His smile was a bit misformed by what had been performed on his mouth, cotton pads filling up his cheeks, which distorted some of his speech.

'Puffy...' you suggested the word, not sure how else to describe him. But for some reason, well, a clear one, Eddie found it hilarious and started giggling, then laughing, harder and louder, until he had to stop because it hurt his mouth. 

'You think you're good to go home?' you asked him once his pain had subsided. 

'Mhm,' and to prove himself, Eddie got up from the chair. He wobbled around a bit, reaching out for your shoulder to hold on to, but he was stable. 'You know,' he giggled again, as if the pain had already been forgotten (which it most likely was), 'that guy drilled me so hard.' 

'Did he now?' you asked, giving him your best trying-to-sound-impressed voice and face while really you were just trying to figure out how you would get this half-conscious man into your car. 

'He drilled me good, y/n. So good.' Of course, he had said it in the middle of the waiting area you were passing through, making the people that had now taken your waiting seats stare at him (and, therefore, you in association) in horror. You tried to give them your most apologetic smile while escorting Eddie out of the building. 

'Please tell me you are at least feeling good,' you groaned as he pushed all his weight onto you. 

'Oh, yeah, I feel fantastic,' he slurred, and you could tell he wasn't lying. Mostly because his mind was so far gone by the anaesthesia that he probably didn't have the brain capacity to form lies, but also because he did seem to look good—all wild and free and happy like he usually did on a high. 

'Well, that's good to hear then,' you managed to get your carkeys and opened the door for Eddie, who slipped right into the passenger seat. He played with the belt buckle, getting it stuck around him a few times, but you helped with that too. 

'You're pretty,' Eddie said, to which you replied with a "you're welcome", as you had expected him to say something around the realm of a thank you.

'Sorry, I mean, thanks,' so you quickly recovered, going to the other side of the car to get in yourself and behind the wheel. 

'You're welcome,' he said. 'Sorry, I mean, thanks.' ah, so he was just repeating you; that wouldn't get old any time soon. Surely not by the time you reached the traffic lights at the corner of the building, about a minute later. 

'Eddie,' you'd say. 

'Eddie' would be his response to this. Until he didn't and started to repeat your name. 'y/n, y/n, y/nnn,' he slurred his words again, not clear whether it was because of his fatigue or the wooziness that came with the sedation. 

'What is it, Munchie?' you asked him, taking a turn. 

'This feels really good.' he said, head against the headrest, turned to face you as you drove. 

'Yeah?' it felt like you were about to have a repeat of the previous conversation in the dentist's office and that Eddie was about to start talking about getting drilled by that dentist, but no. 

'I'm really happy that you're here.' he said, shocking your system. As another traffic light turned red, you looked over at him. His eyes had gained some focus again and were looking straight at you. 

'Oh, of course, I'm here.' the lights turned green, and you drove on. 

'Good. Don't ever leave me, ok?' he started playing with his hair, mindlessly chewing it, which you could not imagine did not hurt him. 

'I'm not going anywhere, Munchie,' you promised him. 

'You better don't. What would I do without you?' 

'Maybe not get high on general anaesthesia?' 

thank you for reading

@spiderrrling @theglitterymess @dorianelizabeth @theletterhart @niyahwhoreworld @chatnoirfangirl1624 @fopdoodle1624 @pastel-abyss-x @ghoulsgraveyard @prettytoxix @lovesickollie @xbreezymeadowsmunsonx @ssanjuniperoo @nxrdamp @meaganjm @yourmommilf @mischiefmanagers @roseyykris @capybergara @brother-lauren @h0sh1verse @ghostlyreads @croweaterr @ladyapplejackdnd @bilesxbilinskixlahey @kbakery @sleeping-willlow @lizzylynch1 @liltimmyst @hellfire-state-of-mind @escape-in-time-x @miscelaa @sweetpeapod @the-a-word-2214 @eddiemunsonbby @wh0re4munson @eddiesdingus @zoeyquinn94 @munsonmunchies @overthewhiteclouds @wroteclassicaly @groupies-do-it-better @stitchity @celestialsxturn @hoe4eddiemunson @inanausomewhere @witchyrivers @scoops-harrington @fluffyharrington

[the-little-ewok]

Shift

Shift Steven Grant X F!Reader  (Implied future Marc Spector X F!Reader) Rating: T+ Wordcount: 3700 (ish) Warnings: Angst, nightmares, anxiety, mention of blood, and of course… FLUFF Summary: Marc calls you to calm down Steven after he has a terrible nightmare. But something isn't quite right with Marc either…

A/N: This takes place between Tilt and Balance when the reader is still only dating Steven. It can be read as a standalone fic. (It may seem like a slightly sad ending for Marc but if you read Balance it fixes it..) I am not a system, nor do I know anyone who is a system. This is based purely on my research, the show, and the information contained within the comics. Please forgive any offence.

_________

"Are you alright?"

"Marc?" You groan, rolling over in bed to look at the clock, holding the phone to your ear and squinting against the brightness of the flashing numbers. "It's the middle of the fucking night."

"I'm aware of the time. Are you alright?" 

"No, Marc, I'm not alright. You called me in the middle of the night!" You snap with a sigh. "What do you want?"

"I want you to come over." His tone is impatient, clipped and to the point, the same way he always is with you now. At some point, you must have said something wrong, did something wrong. At some point something shifted in him and gone was his annoying teasing, his occasional flirtations comments, the tentative friendship you had begun. You wish you knew how to fix whatever had broken, but when you ask, he always softens and sighs, "you didn't do anything wrong." 

Except you must have. 

"What do you mean?" You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration, tiredness still dragging your eyes down heavily. If Marc was well enough to speak to you, then you're sure Steven was at least ok. They did share the same body, after all. 

"Exactly what I said. Can you come here? Please. I wouldn't be calling if it wasn't important." The please is what really catches your attention. You can't remember the last time Marc said please about anything. It has you sitting up in bed, your heart fluttering with anxiety.��

"Marc, what's happened?"

"Steven had a nightmare, and he's stressed out. He won't listen to me that you are fine. I had to take over to stop him. He's got himself worked up. He thinks you might get hurt." Marc explains exhaustedly, and you can so perfectly picture his frown of worry. He's probably leaning against the kitchen counter, still dressed in Steven’s oversized sleep clothes, agitated and unable to keep still. You've seen him that way before, the first time you'd fallen asleep on Steven’s couch, waking in the middle of the night to him banging around in the kitchen. He wouldn't tell you what was wrong, so you spent the night sitting up, quietly watching him, while he quietly tried to ignore you until he finally went to bed.  

"I can't come to you right now. I'm not having him run through the streets like a mad man. Will you come here?"

"Okay," you nod, throwing back the covers and getting up, "I'll be there soon."

"Do not walk. It's dark, and I can't protect both of you right now." Marc instructs, before he suddenly goes quiet, hissing something in the background, at Steven you assume. Normally you would have argued with him, repeated once more that you can take care of yourself, and don't need anyone to protect you, but there's something in his tone that makes you stop, something you can't quite place. Maybe it's just that he's already worried. You don't want to add to that, for Steven’s sake. 

"I'll be there soon as I can."

You're already in a cab when you realise you're still in your pajamas. 

~

Marc answers the door and your heart drops into your stomach. His clothes are drenched in sweat, his curls messy and wild, his frown deeper than ever, his jaw holding so much tension it must be painful. Even so, he looks relieved at the sight of you, which in itself stirs worry in your belly. 

"Thank you for coming." He lets you into the apartment, shutting the door and redoing all the locks.

"Must be pretty bad for you to have called me over," you frown, hanging up your coat. "What happened?"

"Nothing. I've told him it's just a bad dream, but he insists that you aren't ok, and I'm struggling to keep him under control," Marc grits out. It's all too clear exactly what he means. Usually the switches between them are seamless, the blink of an eye, and they change, but it's like he's physically having to hold Steven back — fists clasped at his side's, his whole body rigid, his breathing carefully measured. You wonder how bad this nightmare actually was for something like this to happen. 

You aren't sure if Marc's strength breaks, or he just lets Steven take over, but before you can react you are bundled up into his arms. 

"Are you ok? You're not hurt, are you? He didn't hurt you?" Steven lets you go and starts patting you down, spinning you and checking you for injuries. It would be comical if you couldn't feel the way his hands are trembling, and see the way he has tears in his eyes. 

"Hey, hey, I'm ok." Grabbing his hands, you hold them tightly in yours, forcing him to stop obsessively checking you over. "Who would have hurt me? Marc?"

"Khonshu," Steven swallows hard, his eyes flickering over your face, evidently still checking that you weren't about to collapse with some grievous wound. "We should have come to you. I was-i was coming to you. Marc wouldn't let me. I tried to rescue you. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

Your heart breaks as his tears break free, his whole body trembling as he mumbles out apologies.

"Steven, it's ok. I'm ok," you reassure him, throwing your arms around him and cuddling him tightly. His fingers claw into the material of your shirt, holding you to him as he buries his face in your neck, his tears hot against your skin as he suddenly dissolves into heartbreaking sobs. 

"Oh, Steven,” you whisper softly, holding him tighter as you stroke his back comfortingly. “Must have been some nightmare. I'm ok though. I promise none of it was real."

"I know. I know," he mumbles against your skin, his quiet sobs finally dying down as he seems to realise that you're here and safe. "Marc said the same, but Khonshu… I didn't… It was so real. It was just like before…with Marc. When we… I always thought it was a dream." He lets you go to run a trembling hand through his hair. 

"Just like before. I just woke up somewhere, and you were there and he…the blood and gooey bits…" he trails off, shaking his head before he gets a look of determination in his eyes you've never seen with Steven. He's practically panting with anger as he grits out the words, "I swear he lays one bloody finger on you I-I…  I'll… I'll do something to him! He's having a laugh if he thinks he can come anywhere near you."

"Ok, ok, calm down." You rub his arms gently, waiting for his breathing to even out a little before you continue. "Khonshu hasn't come anywhere near me. And even if he did, I'm sure you and Marc would get to me first. I know it's scary, and it seemed real, but it wasn't. I'm right here, I'm ok and nobody is coming after me."

He seems to come back to himself a little, taking a deep breath and giving a nod at your words, gently taking your waist to pull you close against him again.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry. Sorry, I'm acting absolutely bonkers, aren't I?" He frowns with an almost bitter laugh. "Bloody acting like a lunatic. I'm sorry Marc called you. I didn't mean to worry you."

"You turning up at my door in the middle of the night would worry me more," you smile reassuringly, cupping his cheek and gently wiping away the remnants of his tears. 

"Yeah, suppose that's right innit. Wouldn’t want to piss your neighbours off either with the knocking," he pauses, tilting his head as he looks you over properly this time, "Hang on, are you in your pyjamas?" 

The heat spreads out across your cheeks, and you tug at the edge of your top, suddenly very aware of the mess you must look. 

"Marc panicked me and I sort of ran out the door, and well," you gesture down to your attire. "Didn't really think about it. I know I'm not very presentable."

"No, no," Steven repeats softly, "nothing wrong with you. You look amazing. You always do."

He takes your hands in his and squeezes gently, leaning his forehead against yours as his eyes flicker closed, "You look much better than you did being eaten alive by dead birds."

You decide not to tell Steven that his words are hardly a complement, deciding some things are better left unsaid in these circumstances. 

"Doesn't sound like that would be pleasant," you whisper, gently squeezing his hands as his thumbs stroke the back of yours. 

"It wasn't," he sighs quietly, before he finally lifts his head from yours. 

He lets go of one of your hands and cups your cheek gently before he leans in and presses his lips to yours. His kiss isn't like the ones you've shared before. It's nothing like the sweet tentative kisses he gave you on your first date, it's nothing like those that had a needy edge to them as you made out on his sofa earlier this week, nothing like the quick kisses hello and goodbye he gives you each day. There's an edge of desperation to it, a need to be intimate, to be close with you, to confirm you're real and safe. You give him all the time he needs, all the reassurance he wants in your kiss. You tangle your fingers in his curls as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close against him. 

When he finally pulls away, he keeps your body tight against his, burying his face in your neck. You feel his eyelashes brush against your skin as he closes his eyes. 

"I don't want to go back to sleep," he mumbles against your neck. "Never going to sleep again."

You can't help a tiny smile at his stubbornness, which is rare in its appearance, especially in your presence. 

"Ok you don't have to, at least not tonight. I'll make us some snacks, and we'll watch movies instead for a while, yeah?" 

He hesitates a minute before he finally lifts his head from your neck, his eyes wide and hopeful. 

"You'll stay a bit? You really don't mind?" 

"I really don't mind," you assure him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "I'm here as long as you need me to be."

~

It's the quiet padding across the floorboards, and the absolute lack of conversation that alerts you to the fact it's Marc, not Steven, who returns to you after he disappeared to get changed.

You keep your back to him as you quietly finish filling the bowls you have laid out with crisps and sweets, before you pause, biting your lip nervously. 

"You know, I think maybe you were a little bit worried about me too?" You tease softly, trying to ease the tension that suddenly seems to be sucking the air out of the room. You turn to face him, but he's not looking at you, he's staring out of the window at the full moon. It bathes him in a soft glow, outlining the slope of his nose, the sharp angle of his jaw, his deep set frown. You ignore the eruption of butterflies in your stomach, convincing yourself it's just because he looks like a version of Steven, your boyfriend, the man you've fallen in love with. Marc is a world away from Steven, and your heart is already given away, yet it still beats a little more unsteadily when he turns to you, his eyes glinting almost black in the dim lighting as he speaks. 

"Does it matter?" 

He tilts his head and takes a deep breath, going back to staring out of the window, continuing without waiting for you to answer. "Steven wanted you here, and he wasn't listening to me. Like I said, I didn't want him running around the streets. It was just a nightmare."

You get the distinct impression he's lying, but you don't say it. Your relationship with Marc is often strained enough without you tipping the boat all the way over. Yet it still knots in your belly, the impression he's hiding something from you. And when he sighs, running a hand through his hair, the knot only tightens painfully. 

"You know, we have the same nightmares sometimes? It's like being a character in someone else's dream. I couldn't control it or stop it. You were there and he just…" he trails off, shaking his head, deciding not to give you details. "Steven keeps it from you to keep you safe but, it scares us half to death that Khonshu…it doesn't matter. It's just a stupid dream."

Us. 

Your heart feels heavy suddenly, as though a weight dropped into your chest at his words. Whether he cared about you or didn’t, whether he admitted it or not, Marc was scared. Any threat from Khonshu was the least of your worries when you have the two of them to consider. 

You don't remember your feet taking you there, don't remember coming around the breakfast bar, stepping over the pile of books Steven always leaves in the way, the ones he's going to move, eventually. You're standing in front of Marc, your hand gently cupping his cheek, before you've thought about it at all.

You open your mouth, but then his eyes slide to meet yours, and all the words dry up. You stand still, his skin warm under your palm, his eyes holding yours, moonlight shielding you from the darkness. 

"Marc," you try again, your voice quiet and unsure, dropping your hand, suddenly conscious that you probably shouldn't have taken that step, "you don't need to worry about me."

"Steven needs you, so it's my job to worry about you by default," Marc responds, his tone flat as he takes a step back from you. It hurts a surprising amount that he doesn't want to be near you, and not for the first time you wish you knew what you had done wrong. 

"Will you stay with him tonight? Steven doesn't want to ask you to stay the whole night in case you say no. So I'm asking for him. You can sleep in our bed.”

You nod in agreement, and keeping your movements slow, take Marc's hand in yours. He stiffens against your touch, and for a second he gives you an almost pained look before his usual scowl takes over. Before he can pull away from you again, you step forward and wrap your arms around him. 

"Thank you, for looking out for Steven," you pause as you squeeze him gently, "and for worrying about me."

At first, he makes no reaction at all. He stands stiffly as though he's scared to move, before hesitantly, he finally hugs you back, pulling you close against him. It's familiar and different all at the same time. You're used to hugging Steven, you're used to the way he feels in your arms, but Marc holds himself differently, and suddenly it's like you're learning how to fit together all over again.

Marc leans the side of his head against yours as he sighs your name softly against your hair. It sends heat skittering across your skin and butterfly's erupting in your belly. Marc never uses your name. He never has, and you always thought he never would. You've been Steven's girlfriend for a long time now. He's always referencing you that way. The soft way he says your name shouldn't stir up the storm of feelings inside you that it does. You bite them down, trying to convince yourself your feelings are just getting mixed up. You already know you're in love with Steven — whole heartedly, hopelessly in love with him. You know this must just be a reaction to the fact in a way he is Steven, even though everything about him is nothing like Steven at all. 

"I'm glad he has you," Marc whispers softly. 

You open your mouth to answer, but he's already gone. You feel his arms go loose for a second before they squeeze you tight enough to steal the air from your lungs. 

"Oh, this is progress! You hugged! I told you Marc would soften again eventually. He just needs a bit of time, don't he? Now you can both go back to being friends! I mean, I don't know what he's been sulking about anyway. Think he's just been in a bad mood for well…ever. But I think we are over it now and things can go back to how they were before, yeah?" Steven babbles excitedly in your ear. 

"Yeah. I hope so." you nod quietly as he cuddles you warmly, still lost in the confusion of your feelings. If Steven notices anything is wrong, he chooses not to say anything, but it's a long time afterwards that he finally lets you go.

~

When you open your eyes there's light streaming through the window, you're wrapped in warm blankets, sleeping on soft pillows that smell familiar, and yet unfamiliar. There's music coming from the kitchen, quiet and drowned out by Stevens' out of tune voice singing along. 

"Everyday I wake up, then I start to break up…" 

You smile, sitting up in the bed where one of them must have put you. You remember feeling sleepy, curled up on the sofa, your feet over Steven’s lap, his arms resting on your legs. You remember closing your eyes for just a second, then, nothing.

"Steven?" 

He pauses singing at your voice, spinning around to look at you. He looks like he could do with at least three weeks’ worth of sleep and a comb. You suspect that he kept to his promise and hasn’t slept again all night. You make a mental note to make sure you try and get him to nap at some point today. 

Steven stares at you silently, making you fidget uncomfortably, reaching up to smooth down your hair and try to make yourself less sleep tousled. 

"What?" You ask softly. He blinks and shakes his head, giving you an apologetic smile. 

"Sorry! Just…bit mad innit? Seein' you, a girl, in my bed. I mean, you know, sleeping in my bed. Not just…sitting on it. I mean, you're sitting on it now, but you were sleeping. Not that I was watching you sleep, either! Not being a creep or anything," He gives a nervous laugh as you climb out from under the covers, padding across the hardwood floor to him.

"You telling me Marc's never brought a girl back here?" The question is out of your mouth before you realise that you don't actually want an answer to it, feeling the pinpricks of jealousy at the back of your neck. Though you have no right to deny Marc his own life and love, the thought of someone else in bed with them turns your stomach.

"Not since…not since we met you actually," Steven answers with a frown before he shakes his head. "Or any I remember, anyway."

His confession was an interesting one, but you decide not to examine it further. More than likely, you suspect Marc didn't want to upset Steven if he accidentally woke up with another girl in his bed. You can only imagine the way he might react and the utter panic that would ensue at having to explain it to you. The radio continues to play as you watch Steven make the tea, leaning on the counter to watch him affectionately. 

"Do you want to dance?" Steven asks suddenly, turning to face you.

"What?" You giggle in surprise as he turns the radio up now that you're awake. He holds out a hand to you, his grin as bright as it was the day in the museum when you invited him for a second try at your date. 

"I really like this song. Dance with me?" He asks again. Giggling, you put your hand in his.

He grins, gently pulling you against his chest, holding your one hand up with his, as he gently grips your hip with the other. Steven clearly has no real idea how to dance, although he makes a good go of some type of waltz around his flat, singing along to the radio, his voice out of tune and interrupted by bouts of both your laughter. 

"I like this, dancing with you," he smiles, holding his arm up for you to spin underneath it. "I like waking up with you here. I like doing everything with you."

"I like doing everything with you too," you smile, pressing a quick soft kiss to his lips as he pulls you back into his arms, swaying gently to the final bars of the music. "You know I’m happy to sleep over anytime you want me to,” you hesitate for a moment before adding, "or not sleep… if you’d prefer to do something else in your bed?"

He's quiet for a long moment, although his gentle swaying never stops as he flusters for a moment, and you worry you might have overstepped an unknown boundary. Steven had always taken things slowly with you, allowing you to adjust and take your time with everything, and while you might have come close to taking things further more than once, neither of you had seemed to have the confidence to take those steps before. Now you worry maybe you were asking for something Steven wasn't ready for.

Eventually, he swallows hard and nods a little too enthusiastically at you, the tips of his ears turning pink. 

"Alright, yeah. Yeah," he repeats with a nod. "Wouldn't mind that actually, you know, being in bed with you…not sleeping."

You bite your lip, feeling heat creeping across your own cheeks, your heart fluttering wildly in your chest as his fingers tighten just a fraction on your hip. 

"I wouldn't mind it either," you manage to whisper.

Whatever had passed for a fleeting moment between you and Marc last night was nothing. It couldn't be anything when your heart felt this full of love. There was no room in your heart for anything but the way Steven smiles at you. There's no room for anything but the way he kisses you. There's no room for anything but Steven when leads you back to his bed. 

It's hours later you find the post-it note, scrawled in hand writing that's not Steven's, shoved deep inside your jacket pocket. One sentence that starts the shift in your relationship with Marc.

Thank you for the hug xx

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