#reason for basic side view

[bobberto-gloops]

musty dusty side view of javier

[self-made-purgatories]

Kirk (saunters over to Spock's station, drapes himself over the chair and console, rolls his hips and lands in that cunty fuck-me contrapposto pose): "absolutely normal workplace conversation"

Spock (gets a little twitchy and nervous, stares directly at Kirk's cock): "absolutely normal answer to workplace conversation"

Thirty-seven minutes later:

Captain's Log: MY BRILLIANT PLAN HAS WORKED

[obeymeow]

nightbringer lesson 14 FUCKED ME UP in several ways but primarily I've spent the last 48 hours making myself sad over the solomon backstory we got. specifically I have, for no reason, latched onto that one chapter in the Kids event where baby solomon cried because he felt so guilty over being responsible for that spell. and that just feels a touch more depressing in context

[omarwolaeth]

Might write up a new chapter for Heartbeat Program. maybe

[swoo0zy]

wander is DEF fucked emotionally i jyst didnt feel like fitting 2 paragraphs into 1 image also. comeduc effect ig BUT YEAH I SIGN UNDER EVERY WORD

this is starryeyed to me

[johnnyinmysilverhand]

bumble and anessa could have some side lesbianism going on if they weren't so focused on revenge and killing

[bootycallin]

BRING IT BACK.

basically; vi, who delivers the most lethal backshots known to man

cw: wlw. men dni. g!p! vi. unprotected sex. doggy. degradation if you squint. swearing. brief spanking. a lil ass play. implied overstimulation? mention of creampie but she cums on ur back lol. vi's down bad. briefly proofread. this is a lil short i'm sorryyy

a/n: can you tell i was excited? anyways, sevika fic coming soon. if you saw this before i apologize, i fucked something up on the formatting and had to redo it.

NSFW UTC

vi is the type of girl that likes seeing your face when you two have sex, for a multitude of reasons. for example, she likes seeing your pretty face twist in pleasure whenever she sheathes her cock fully inside of you, but she also likes keeping the eye contact. it makes sex all the more intimate, and vi prides herself in being a considerate lover. she always wants to make sure you're doing fine, and your expression is a good way of doing that.

but no story has only one side. and, neither do you, and she fucking loves your backside as well.

"shit," she groaned, growled, untamed and feral, giving ravenous, rough thrusts in and out of your sopping hole. barely gives you enough time to even moan, each thrust ripping a gasp from your throat, taking the breath away from your lungs. she's laser-focused on the way your pretty cunt swallows her girth, greedy, clenching around her so fucking tight, like your pussy never wants to let go. one hand on your waist, the other on your ass, landing a hard smack that makes you whine.

"look at that," vi grunted, grabbing at the yielding skin of your ass cheek, admiring the skin plushing between her fingers. never once does she stop, pace unrelenting. "taking my cock so well. so fuckin' pretty, baby... fuckin' love taking me from behind, don't ya? huh, princess?"

she smacks your ass again when you don't respond immediately, sending your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"yes, viii..." you replied, in a strangled mewl, hitching your head to the side to look back at her. and fuck, if she didn't have the most fucking smug face in the face of the planet.

"yeah, fuckin' looove when i hit it from the back, don't you, babe?" vi scoffed. grabbing at your waist tighter so she could pull you back into her cock in time with her thrusts. she was in so deep, the angle making it oh-so easy for her to reach the deepest spots inside you, the tip of her cock kissing your cervix repeatedly, as bruisingly as she would kiss you.

"fuckin' love this pretty ass. shit, look at 'er," her hand just can't seem to stop squishing and squeezing the skin of your ass, running over it, feeling you up. you knew vi liked your body, but you didn't know she was this much of an ass woman.

in her defense, it's such a good angle. she's always noticed your butt, but she doesn't usually focus on it. she likes seeing your face when you fuck, but she could get used to this view. your face down, your ass up, meeting her pelvis with each thrust, how you whine and whimper at the tickle of the little red hairs that trail down her tummy and cover the base of her dick, same hairs that get slowly wetter with your wetness and hers mixing, balls smacking against your clit in a dizzying fashion.

you don't even notice her hand wandering, thumb straying, 'til it's right over your rim, prodding at your puckered hole. you keen, a hitched gasp coming from the back of your throat.

"vi, what the-hah!—"

"shhh," she shushes you, not really even giving you much of a choice but to shut up, another harsh thrust that hit right against your cervix, making you burrow your face into the plush of the bed, you two connected on every level. she starts grinding into you instead, keeping herself as deep as she could, tip practically smushing against your insides.

"it's okay, baby," she muttered, leaning down, her front nearly pressing against your back. "you'll take me, right? please, baby, gonna make you feel sooo good."

how can you deny when she asks so sweetly? a little hum of approval is all she needs to hear.

suddenly she pulls out. a smirk graces her face when you whine, a string of slick and pre connecting your cunt to her cock in a filthy scene.

she spits right on your hole, licks it just to see you squirm. her hand moves to her cock, letting out a shaky sigh as she wipes her thumb over her slit, gathering the pre-cum that built on her tip. when she feels it's enough, she aligns herself with your pussy, her thumb circling your rim. she watches as you wince when she begins dipping her thumb in, pushing her cock inside of your cunt at the same time. the simultaneous movement makes your eyes roll, unconsciously relaxing so she can push her finger in easier.

"viii..." you try to run away, but she keeps you still, grabbing tightly at your hips. you're clenching around her so tight she can barely even move.

"shh... just relax, baby. fuck, you're so tight..."

she nearly moans when your warmth envelops her digit completely. your cunt's fucking strangling her, clenching repeatedly against the base of her cock so tight she swears you're gonna cut circulation.

her next movement are robotic, drawing back from you only to slam right back in, a loud smack reverberating in the room. you swear you can feel her in your guts. she's so deep, her thumb now filling your other hole. you’ve never felt so full, and fuck, you love it.

"vi-iiii,” her name drawls out like string from your throat, the only coherent thought that you're forming being about how good it feels, how good she feels. she's also only thinking about you, about how much she wants to fill you to the brim, fuck you full of her again and again and again until it's engraved in your mind thoughts of her. 'til you're ruined, and it's engrained in that she is the one that fucks you this good, the one fucking you dumb.

"mmh? yeah? i'm listenin', baby," she's teasing. she loves how you get all huffy when she does. she knows you can't speak, not when she's pounding you into the mattress like she wants to mold your pussy for fit her cock. she spreads your ass to get more access, and fuck, the view might just be from heaven. it's obscene and so pretty and so fucking hers.

soon, that familiar knot is forming in your stomach, growing impossibly tighter each thrust. you cry out, hands hopelessly grasping at the bedsheets, your thighs spreading on instinct, back arching. vi tuts behind you, mean.

"nuh-uh," she nearly growled, grabbing your waist and pulling you right back onto her cock with a grunt. "you were beggin' for it, don't run away, you can take it, yeah?"

"vi-ii!!" you let out a pathetic cry, muscle memory only making you bounce right back against her. "shi-shit— s'much..!"

"oh, but you're taking me so well, baby," she praised, but it somehow managed to sound dangerous. vicious. "fuck, pussy's swallowing me up whole. look at her, clenchin' round me, doesn't want to let me fucking go."

her last word's punctuated with a sharp smack to your ass, and oh she relishes in the way you sob, knowing that has to leave a painful sting, which she soothes with her palm.

"vi, close...! 'm- 'm close!"

"me too baby, fuck," she groans, adjusting herself just so she can fuck into you better, her cock moving inside you, tilting at an upwards angle that makes her rub right against that little spot she knows turns your brain to mush. "gonna cum for me, yeah? make a mess, c'mon, c'mon..."

your orgasm hits you like a goddamn truck, back arching like that of a cat's. if her hand didn't hold you up by the hips, you would've collapsed by now. you're leaking, your cum leaving a creamy white ring around the base of her cock, a vision she wants to be drawn into her grave so she'll never forget it. she groans, her hand lets go of you, letting you lay back down while she supports her weight on her free hand.

"fuck, fuck," she grunts in her own needy way, reminiscent of a dog with how she pants against your back, bending so she could be closer, smelling your hair. shes close, and she only gets closer when she hears your whimpers, hips still smacking against your ass as she chases her own orgasm.

"shit!—"

she finally cums, pulling out just in time to release all on your back, squirting a pretty white string right where your spine sat. she hissed a desperate string of curses, something she does to spare some dignity and not outright moan like a slut (you've told her you like when she moans, but damn it, she's the one with the cock. plus, it's not like you can't hear the whimpers in the back of her throat. not slick, violet).

her face buried into the space between your shoulder blades, she strokes her cock a few more times for good measure, collapsing on top of you when her own legs start shaking and she feels like she’s been milked dry.

you're panting, her weight over your body, sticky skin against sticky skin, sweat and cum mixing. she could care fucking less that your back's covered in her cum, and she's pressing her chest to it. if anything, she likes it. loves how her skin sticks to yours, how she can barely tell where you end and she begins.

"mhm," vi hummed, removing her thumb from your hole, huffing out a little laugh when you whimper. she wraps her big arms around you, hands smoothing over your skin. she leaves a few kisses down the back of your neck, before licking a long line over your spine, scooping up her own cum with her tongue.

"vi—“

before you can ask, she turns you around, kissing you, tongue shoved into your mouth. all you can taste is her, her cum and your sweat and just sex. you have no problem swallowing, much to her pleasure, a dumb, lopsided grin tilting her mouth up.

"let's do that again," she muttered, kissing the slope of her neck. her cock sits heavy on your lower stomach, hard. "wanna cum inside you this time."

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 © bootycallin on tumblr. do not copy, translate or cross post without permission. ᛝ

[mahgyu]

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓 ──── 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

Gojo’s aftercare is a chaotic mix of overwhelming affection and genuine tenderness. He’ll kiss every inch of your body like he’s blessing it, whispering filthy praise between laughter and teasing. He insists on carrying you to the shower—even if you can walk—and stays glued to your side afterward, feeding you snacks in bed and stroking your hair like he just saved your life with his dick. And honestly? He kind of did.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

Gojo’s obsessed with your thighs. He grabs, squeezes, bites—treats them like his personal stress relief. He loves burying his face between them, overstimulating you until your legs tremble. On himself, he’s cocky about his hands. He knows exactly how to use them—whether it’s choking you lightly, holding you down, or fingering you with obscene precision.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He cums a lot. Like, a lot. It’s thick, hot, and he loves making a mess with it. Seeing you dripping with his cum, struggling to catch your breath, is the highest form of satisfaction for him. He’ll paint your stomach, your boobs, your back—or fill you up and make you stay like that. He gets off hard on the idea of you walking around with him still inside you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s definitely jerked off to your voice memos or texts when you’re away—sometimes in risky places, like the Jujutsu High rooftop or a meeting room. He also has a video of you sucking him off, saved in a hidden folder on his phone. He watches it way more often than he admits.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

Oh, he knows what he’s doing. Gojo has confidence for a reason—he’s had his share of partners, but no one’s ever driven him crazy like you. He reads your body like a damn book, adapts on the fly, and always, always makes you come first. He’s a god in bed, and he knows it.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He’s a sucker for doggy style, watching your ass bounce as he pounds into you makes him feral. But he also loves reverse cowgirl, just to lean back and enjoy the view while his hands roam all over your body.

G=Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s playful as hell. Sex with Gojo always has moments of teasing, smug grins, and cocky comments. He’ll crack a joke mid-thrust just to make you roll your eyes—then fuck you hard enough to make you forget how to speak.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Despite his chaotic energy, Gojo is deeply affectionate. His kisses are desperate, his touches linger, and he holds you like you’re the only thing grounding him. He might joke around, but you feel how serious he is in the way he worships your body like a temple.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He jerks off often, especially if you're not around. He’ll use your panties, your pics, or even replay voice notes of you moaning. He doesn’t hide it—he gets off on being shameless. If you catch him, he’ll smirk and invite you to join in.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Gojo’s kinks are wild: he’s into teasing, power play, public risk, praise mixed with degradation, and especially overstimulation. He loves watching you cry from too much pleasure, telling you how good you look ruined on his cock.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Everywhere. Literally. A classroom late at night? Done. His office desk? Absolutely. The back of a car? Why not. But his favorite? Against the mirror, so he can see your face and whisper in your ear how wrecked you look.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Your voice, your scent, the way you look at him with need—everything turns him on. But what really pushes him over the edge is your confidence when you take control. Climb on top, talk dirty, show him how much you want him—and you’ll see Gojo beg.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

He’s adventurous, but he draws the line at anything degrading or cruel in a way that feels disrespectful. He’ll call you names in bed, sure—but if you ever looked genuinely hurt or uncomfortable, he’d shut everything down immediately.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving? He adores it. He’ll eat you out for hours, smirking while you shake. Receiving? He’ll make a show of it—head thrown back, groaning loud, praising your mouth like you’re divine. He’s loud, filthy, and always holds your hair gently.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Gojo’s pace depends on the mood. He can be slow and sensual, drawing it out just to watch you beg, or fast and brutal, fucking you like he’s starved. Either way, he always keeps you on edge, never letting you fully know what’s coming next.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He’s obsessed with quickies. Before a mission, during breaks, even in hallways—he gets off on the adrenaline. He’s fast, rough, and cocky, whispering "this’ll hold you over" before disappearing again, leaving you trembling.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He lives for the thrill. Gojo will absolutely finger you under the table or pull you into a hidden hallway to fuck you. Public teasing? Constant. He wants to get caught, just to see you bite your lip trying to stay quiet.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Insane. He can go for hours, back to back. Three, four rounds minimum. He doesn’t stop until you’re crying from overstimulation, legs shaking, brain fogged—and even then, he’ll ask, “One more?”

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He owns a small collection—vibrators, plugs, even a remote-controlled toy he loves using on you in public. He’ll watch you squirm, completely innocent on the outside, while you beg for mercy in his ear.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s the king of teasing. Gojo will edge you until you’re sobbing, fingers deep but refusing to let you cum until you beg properly. He whispers the filthiest things, licks you until you're right there—then stops, smirking. Pure evil.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Loud. Moaning, groaning, breathy curses—Gojo lets it all out. He wants you to hear how good you’re making him feel. And he’ll talk through it, too: filthy praise, cocky comments, and shameless begging for more.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He’s into recording your sex tapes. Nothing fancy, just his phone propped up somewhere. He loves rewatching them when he’s alone, especially the ones where you’re on top, riding him like you own him.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Off the charts. Gojo is needy. He craves sex often, but it’s not just physical—he needs to feel you, to connect through touch, skin, heat. When he wants you, it consumes him. He’ll drop everything for you. Every time.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He’s clingy afterward. He won’t sleep unless you’re curled up on his chest or spooning you tightly. He hums soft little sounds, kisses your shoulder, and whispers dumb shit until he finally passes out with a stupid smile on his face.

Did someone ask for another one?! 🤭 Give me suggestions for who should be next. Here’s Nanami’s version

©mahgyu | I do not allow adaptations, translations, or copies of my work.

[dilf-docs]

It Always Leads To You

dbf!joel miller x younger fem!reader

summary: it's been a year; now you're back. how can joel be so sure of those old summer feelings in your eyes when there's a new hand holding yours?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, toxic relationship, cheating and infidelity themes, mutual pinning, kinda dark!joel, smut, p. in v., pussy pronouns, oral (f. receiving), fingering, manhandling, lowkey forced creampie, ANGST, the taylor swift evermore (2020) references go wild, happy ending cause y'all weak asses voted for it and i love to keep my citizens happy!

word count: 5,199 words

side note: my joel miller era is alive and breathing after this tlou re-watch i'm doing my brother swears it's for him but it's mostly me and my fic/womanly reasons, yes we love gaslight girlkeep girlbossing in here gotta say, finding inspiration for this amidst my wattpad duties and christmas movie marathon was harder than i thought lol. was it worth the wait? please like, comment and reblog to let me know! it's based on this request (they're still open btw!)

part: I / II

Holidays linger like bad perfume.

Your eyes wander through the streets: the roads you've got to call home, the ones where you grew up. They're familiar, but so foreign, it's hard to believe they're the same ones where you scrapped your knees at ten and kissed Joel just last winter. It's as if both timelines, your life, feels more like two separate lives, miles apart.

"Hey, you okay?" tender, from the driver's seat; you're still getting used to the soft.

There's a reassuring smile your way, his hand finding yours to give it a squeeze. You notice his palm is the same size as yours. It fits perfectly, but there's a ghost of what it feels like to have it all wrapped up, looming over your itchy palm like all the yearning's a joke.

You nod. "Just tired. That's all"

He sighs. "If I wanted you to lie to me, I would've just asked"

"I'm not lying" you defend yourself as his pickup truck parks on the sidewalk.

He makes a funny face, and you laugh.

"I'm serious, Nick" your lips purse, a thing you do when you lie, yet he still hadn't noticed, like Joel. "Don't worry"

He doesn't look that convinced, so you take off your seat belt and grab his hand.

"C'mon. Mom and dad must be waiting for us"

"Hey" Nick calls you out.

"Yeah?"

"Who lives there?" and he's pointing behind you.

It's his. Joel's house.

"A friend of my dad's" you answer, dryly.

It was last december when you stood there in his porch, begging. It feels like time has stopped ever since, and you're still right where he left you.

"So will he be here?" Nick asks. "You know, since he knows your dad"

"Don't think so" you shrug, "he's got better things to do anyway. Bitter old man" comes out, with more venom than intended.

"Oh! Alright, sorry for asking"

You come back to your senses, realizing you've shared more than you should.

"No, I'm sorry. It's not that important; let's just go inside"

Your mom and dad greet you as soon as you cross the door. Last year, you'd basically fled away before New Year's, with a poor excuse and a broken heart. They both greet you as if nothing happened, although you're sure they remember your tear streamed face coming back from Joel's house, where it all ended.

As your mom corners Nick with kisses and embarrassing questions, your dad whispers to you:

"Joel asked what happened" you quirk and eyebrow, "wanted to know why you left"

"Eh, it's not important" you try to dismiss. "Definitely not as important for a guy like Joel to know"

"What is that supposed to mean?" your dad inquires. You often wonder if they knew.

"Nothing" you laugh nervously. "Listen, why don't you go and meet Nick, yeah? Did you know he likes fishing too?"

The distraction works with your dad; the same can't be said about you.

There's conversation flowing, but through the snow covered window, your eyes keep glancing back to his own. The view is dark, and you ponder if he's fled as well, the town plagued with memories too painful to reminisce.

You can still feel his hands roaming your body, the lust filled gaze that hid warmth. Every time he touches you, you have to remind you he isn't there: that the lips that kiss you, don't taste like his, that the hands that hold you, aren't big as his, and that the face that looks at you like they'll never choose another, is one you haven't learned to love yet.

Joel's memory cuts like thorns: they sink their teeth into your heart, that bleeds with that blood-colored sadness you're all too familiar with. He's poisoned you. But-- isn't it his love also the antidote for this disease he's gave you?

You abruptly stand up, plate half eaten.

"I-I need some air"

It's cold outside, but you don't care. All you want to do is sit on the porch, and drop some tears, something you can do inside too, but the fear of your muffled cries being able to be heard stops you.

You walk towards the stairs, to sit there like you do on summer days, yet there's now a difference: the snow. So you end up slipping, falling with your butt on the floor.

You yelp, embarrased although no one can see you.

"Need help?"

That you're wrong, apparently.

You don't even need to raise your view to know who that voice belongs to: you know it like a record, spinning in circles on your head.

He offers his strong hand your way, and although the cold wind hits your face, you're back to spring on the cabin: wet feet, bright sun and beating heart.

"I can get up myself" you reject his help, pushing the hand out. You keep avoiding his gaze, so you don't see how he's reacted, yet you hope he feels bad about it.

You walk up to the front door, and it takes you a while to realize he hasn't left yet. On top of that, it seems like he's following you. Just what you needed.

"What are you doing here?" you question, but your tone sounds like you're offended.

"Your folks invited me over" Joel answers, "Says they got a special guest"

"Yeah" this time, you do look back, finding him to be much closer than you thought he'd be. Yet you stand tall, defiant even. "It's my boyfriend"

You savour the way his expression falters, before the stoic façade takes over again.

"Boyfriend?" Joel scoffs, as if you just told the funniest joke ever.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" you bite back. "What? Think a pretty girl can't get a new man?"

"Never said I'd doubt'it" he clicks his tongue. "Y'a could get any man you'd want, sugar"

Ironically, the only man you want stands before you.

"Right" you chuckle dryly, "I think it's kind of funny of you to say that"

Joel's eyes bore into yours, a clash of emotions circling in his chocolate orbs.

"Y/n-"

"Don't" you stop him. Then sigh, defeated. "Let's just go inside"

As soon as you both arrive on the dinning room, your parents both greet Joel. Then, they introduce him to their guest, just as promised.

"Joel, this is Nick, y/n's boyfriend" your father speaks. "Nick, this is Joel, a dear old friend of mine"

Nick, as the gentleman he is, offers his hand. Joel accepts, but you can see the barely desguised displease behind his eyes.

"Wow, strong grip" Nick comments before joking, "you can let go now, I'm not going anywhere"

The hidden meaning of his words, whether intentional or not, hit Joel in the face. It's obvious by the way he backtracks, letting go of Nick's hand.

As you sit again, Nick leans to your side and whispers.

"Is this the guy who lives in the house across the street?" you nod. "Thought you'd said he had better plans. But, see? I told you: no plan's more important than coming to your house"

He's always making jokes, trying to make you smile, but it's done the opposite now. The food has gone cold long ago, yet you cut through the meat with a violence so palpable, even your mom tells you to slow down.

The nerve of Joel, showing up to your house like it's nothing, talking to you like he's unaware of his spell on you, acting like Nick is some sort of competition when he pulled out of the race himself a winter ago.

"So, Nick. How did you two meet?" your mom adresses him, eager to know details.

"It was at a party, actually, through mutual friends. Not a very spectacular story, that I know. What's funny is, she asked me what hour it was. And what did I say?"

"He didn't answer my question. Instead, he said: For you, I'm available any hour" you answer.

Your parents laugh, but Joel remains quiet. You wonder what he's thinking.

"You know" looking at Nick while cutting the steamed vegetables a little too agressive, "y/n actually hates parties"

"Joel" you warn through gritted teeth.

"Really? I didn't know that!" Nick seems so genuine, Joel can't help but hate him. He looks at you, concerned "You didn't tell me"

You can't believe he would rat you out like that. The appropiate word isn't hate, and you don't know how to describe it, but parties aren't really your environment; if you can, you'd choose to be anywhere else.

He'll pay for that.

"Joel" you seethe, an ugly smile painted in your features, "did you know Nick knows how to fish?"

It's a direct jab at him. He feels stupid for letting you get to him. The inferiority complex towards some random guy he just met, years younger, is actually laughable.

"I like-" Nick wants to add on that.

"Well" Joel interrupts, looking at you. "You never taught me like ya' were s'pposed to"

"You never cared to learn" you reply, acidic.

He sips his drink, trying to hide the smirk that's formed on his lips. You can't shut up, and he loves you've stayed the same.

"That means I've got some classes to take" Joel leans back on his chair, relaxed like he's won this round. "Just tell me when"

The tension cuts like the storm that's just formed outside.

"You should stay over, Joel" your dad offers when he takes a peak at the climate, "it's too dangerous outside"

Joel seems indestructible, like not even a snow blizzard could pierce through the rough old man. But he agrees, much to your dismay.

It's probably midnight already, and all you've done is toss around the bed. Nick peacefully snores next to you, and you envy how easily he falls asleep. You've always find it hard to sleep, the nighttime plagued with too many loud thoughts that fill the silence.

You get up carefully, heading downstairs for some water. You sip with tranquility when a noise jolts you from your sit.

The wooden floor creaks, making you aware you're not alone anymore.

"Can't sleep?"

You don't answer, seeing his sturdy figure emerge from the shadows until the dim moonlight shines over his aging features. Silence settles in. Outside, the wind howls, bumping against the windows with violence, like your heart does now against your chest.

"Not much of a talker, are you?"

"There's nothing to talk" cuts your response through the thick tension, the air suddenly suffocating.

You take another sip, but the tremble of your hand doesn't go unnoticed by Miller.

"Right" Joel sits next to you, on the kitchen island. "Won't even look at me, sugar? You've got eyes" his voice drops, "use 'em"

"What are you doing, Joel?" you ask looking at him, tears threatening to spill, making your bright eyes shimmer with pain.

He gets up abruptly, like he's woken up from a trance. He's seen his own pain on your eyes, and he hates it.

"Joel?" you ask again, demanding but softly.

He can't answer. Instead, he leaves.

"Goodnight, y/n" voice raw, many emotions boiling, hidden on the inside. It hurts.

If you hadn't changed, Joel too stayed the same.

A goddamn coward.

Two days have passed since, and now it's Christmas Eve.

You kneel, putting the presents under the tree. Normally, your parents would have much more people around for the holidays, but thanks to the storm, it's just them, Nick, Joel and you.

"I'm gonna miss Mrs. Stone's cookies" you pout, "I wish she could be here"

"It's a big loss for tonight" your dad sighs. "Next time, yeah? Christmas will come again faster than you think"

You nod, still absent as he walks away.

"Hey" Joel pops up behind, seemingly from nowhere.

"Hey" you reply, voice laced with tiredness just at the sight of him. How will you manage to survive until New Year's? You have no idea, the task harder if he's staying in the same house as you are.

"Put this in there, will ya'?"

He hands you a box, neatly wrapped up. What stands out the most is the silver bow on top. Your stomach drops: it's your favorite color.

"Y-yeah" you stammer. When the present falls in your hands, you notice it looks like Joel did it himself.

"Didn't know you were capable of nice things" you whisper. There's no anger in your voice, only loss.

"I'm trying" is what he says, before leaving you alone. Until then, you realize he had been touching you, the skin where his hand was on your shoulder burning.

Dinner goes by swiftly, conversation flowing easily courtesy of Nick and your father, who both have in common the love for talking. It may be your brain messing with you, but his eyes never leave you, fixated on your every move, savoring when your lips open and take a bite; when you lick them afterwards, salt in your mouth he'd love to take off in a movement of his tongue. The ghost of your lips haunts him, cruelly playing with his yearning now that he's got you across the table. It's a few centimeters, really, but it feels like you're miles away: and it's his fault. You're no longer his, and he's reminded of it every time your boyfriend kisses what he once had.

Now it's time to open the presents, and you excitedly raise your hand to go first.

"Alright, sweetheart. You know I can't deny you anything" your father beams, "go ahead. Choose any present you'd like to open first"

Joel's eyes are on you, and you know he's desperately waiting for you to open his first. Maybe partly in courage, maybe partly in fear, but you choose Nick's first: something safe to start with.

"That's mine!" he chirps, and Joel mockingly imitates his kid-like joy under his breath.

You unwrap the present, finding a small box inside.

"Please, don't be another box" you joke, and he laughs.

"You think that low of me? Please"

You keep unwrapping and find a bag. The bag has a small tag that reads: Gotcha.

"Nick! God, you're so corny" you tease as you open the bag. Inside, there's a velvet box, and by the looks of it, you can tell it's jewelry. You gasp, pulling out a silver charm tied to a silver thin chain: it's a marlin fish. "Nick..."

"I know. Marlin isn't your favorite fish, but that's all I could find" you get up, wrapping him on a tight hug. Aware you've got an audience, he leans and whispers "I knew fishing was special to you, because of your dad and childhood. Maybe now" he takes it from your hands, carefully putting it around your neck, "it can also be our special thing"

Joel sees the scene unfold in front of him, his grip tight on the cloth of his jeans until it's white. His jaw clenches at the affection display; all he sees is red.

"What about that one?" your mom points out Joel's present. A pit of nerves forms in your stomach. "I don't remember seeing it there"

Before you can grab it, your dad moves faster, examining the box on his hands.

"It's Joel's" he makes a pause, "for y/n"

You pretend to be shocked, and you can tell Nick tenses at your side.

"You didn't tell me you were close"

"Used to" you correct quickly, despite the knot on your throat. "Not anymore"

"He still got you a present, though"

You don't get to answer because your dad leaves the box on your lap.

"Open it" it's soft but feels threathing for some reason, "I'm curious"

Joel's resting hands tremble as much as yours while you open the present. You reveal the simple white box under the wrap, opening it up.

Your voice comes out shaky as you call his name. And he can see it: the muffled laughters on the shed, the warmth of the cabin's fire, the fogged up windows of his car, the bruises on your tits and that voice, so vulnerable, he can see you on his porch, saying those three words that terrified him so much, his solution was breaking your heart.

"What is it?" your dad asks.

"It's a scarf" the fabric tickles your fingers that wander through the loose strands.

You remember it all too well.

"Oh, it's vintage!" your mom comments when she sees the worn-out aspect.

But just as your affair with Joel, you keep the secret of it's real owner.

"It's perfect" you mutter, remembering better times: ones where he'd wrap the scarf colored as the leaves on the ground around your neck, covering bruises he'd just made while you joked you'd steal it, and Joel would say he'd just let you, that it looked better on you anyway.

You've forgotten the good, so used to thinking of Joel at your worst, like a punishment to endure and sink your shipwreck even deeper. You felt lost, replaying memories that seemed stuck on a loop. Since last december, all you've known is pain; creeping up through the cracks in your fleeting happiness, one you've tried to find to no avail. One day, past the curses and cries, maybe there'll be happiness. But as for now, that day seems terribly far.

As he sees your teary gaze, Joel often wonders were it went wrong. When did hurt was all you had for him in that gaze of yours he can't bare to look that long, not before he's reliving all those seasons by your side, replaying his footsteps on the snow, grass, water and fallen leaves, trying to find the one where it all went wrong. The torture he now wears like a second skin, his agony painted words addressed to the fire of a house that feels so empty and alone.

"We should continue" your dad speaks over the silence, "there are still many presents left"

The night moves slowly, and the scarf you've chosen to wear is now suffocating around your neck. But you can't take it off. This is the closest you've been to Joel on a year; it still smells like him. As the presents run out, you excuse yourself early to bed, only to wake up again in the middle of the night. You want to pee, so you exit your room and walk to the bathroom, your bare feet against the cold wood sending shivers down your spine that only seem to augment when you walk past his door, next to the bathroom. After being done, you splash some water on your face, as if that would make some sense get to you.

"What are you doing?" you ask yourself in the mirror. Your tired reflection stares back at you, in silence.

You open the door, ready to go back to bed when a hand covers your mouth and shoves you inside.

"Don't scream" your cries go muffled against his hand, the calloused digits pressing against your soft skin, "wanna wake 'em up?"

You shake your head, so he lets your mouth free.

"Joel" you call out, but he's facing the door, his back all you see. No sound can be heard, aside from his uneven breaths.

"I'm sorry" he says, and then you hear the small click of the door's lock.

"What the hell?"

This time, he faces you, but his movements are so quick you don't register his lips on yours until it's too late. He kisses you like a starved man who hasn't had a meal in years, eating you out while your body acts up on it's own, the urgency embarrasing even.

"No" you pull back. Your mind screams in guilt at how much you want this, and that's all you can hear aside from his ragged breaths.

"No?"

"It isn't fair"

"To lover boy out there?" he teases, "I know he ain't treating you right, or ya' wouldn't look me the way ya' do"

"Don't, Joel" your tone is icy, "Nick treats me better than you ever could"

He laughs, darkly. "You know I ain't meant that" he corners you against the sink, the material cold against your bare legs; you don't sleep with nothing but an oversized t-shirt, despite the weather.

"Riddle me this, sugar: if he treats you so well, why are you so fucking wet?"

Your heart beats so fast you fear you'll die. He gets closer, his hot breathe prickling against your ear.

"It takes a man to please a woman" he tucks a loose strand behind your ear, "and I ain't leaving my baby displeased"

His fingers pull down the panties until your clit is exposed.

"Look at 'er" he traces a teasing finger over the puffy skin, coated on your slick "missed me, didn't she? Gonna treat 'er so good, she won't ever feel lonely again"

He softly kisses your neck, the trepidation and regret tying your stomach in knots.

Joel teases your needy core with his finger.

"Tell you somethin', sugar" Joel finds it hard to hide his adoration, "I missed 'er too"

He stares into your eyes while pushing two rough fingers inside your cunt. You bite your lip, holding back your moans.

"Need summ help?" he kisses you roughly, smirking when he feels your shaky breath against his lips. He pushes them in and out faster, making your walls squeeze tightly around his fingers.

"Did he ever have you comin' this fast? I'ont think so" he whispers against your neck. You whisper his name through labored breaths, making a smug smile adorn his features. "Good girl"

He proceeds to kneel down, despite the creak of his bones. You see him leave a trail of kisses down your thighs, your legs opening wider in response. His tongue gives rapid flickers against your sensitive bud, aware of the lack of time. He slurps the pulsing cunt, his head moving back and forth while he sucks, coating his moustache on your juices. Joel goes back to the quick movements, tongue knowing your spots and twisting fingers as aid, causing your back to arch.

"Fuck" you curse as you come, gripping the sink a bit too tight.

Joel then pulls away and places his fingers coated in your arousal in his mouth and licks them. He sees the obscene display in the fogged mirror, satisfied.

"Goodnight, sugar" Joel bids goodbye like it's nothing, kissing your lips that taste like you. "Still as sweet as ever"

It's New Year's Eve.

"You're leaving?" you sound so sad, Joel can't help but scoff. In the end, he'd stayed long after the storm had passed, your father arguing holidays weren't meant to be spent alone. So he stayed.

And now, Nick is leaving.

"I'm sorry" he apologizes for the millionth time, "but granny is sick. I don't know if she'll make it another year, so say the doctors. I would love to stay, really, but I have to be with her"

You understand, having lost your grandad years ago. But that doesn't mean you're okay with it: Nick leaving means a clear path for Joel, who didn't stop with him sleeping next room, and certainly won't now, despite not having interacted with you since he ate you out on the bathroom.

He pulls you into a long hug and a kiss that doesn't feel the same anymore. "Will you be okay?"

"Yeah" you nod, "I'll miss you though"

"Well, I'll be all yours when you get back"

You smile but it doesn't reach your eyes.

"See you, y/n. I love you"

Your lips purse after you utter those three words back.

Later at night, the house is filled with guests. The lively environment is restored, and you feel less confined to Joel's claws, so many faces to speak and distract yourself with, compared to Christmas and the past couple of days. You clutch the marlin charm tightly, mind busy wandering to places it shouldn't. Joel stares at you from across the room, eyes trained on you as he sips his drink calmly, like he's won; you don't know why he's keeping score if he already knows it. You wander off to the kitchen, and Joel follows you.

"You have to stop" you speak as soon as he enters, aware he would follow you.

"I ain't do shit"

You turn around, facing him. "Bullshit, Joel"

"Tell me, what'd I do?" he comes closer, and despite your erratic heart and fear, you stay still; challenging.

"You did this, Joel" his expression falters for a second, the weight of last december's crimes dawning on him. "Don't try to make me feel guilty"

"I ain't. That wasn't your fault" he sighs, breath dragging long like a cigarrette. "But this" he motions with his hands the reduced distance, "this it is"

Your breath hitches.

"We can't keep doing this, Joel. Nick doesn't deserve it"

He pins you against the counter with force, gripping the skin of your wrists until you're sure you'll get a bruise. Joel's eyes darken at the thought of your frail and soft body under his rough figure and belly, his strength and your weakness making the job of putting you under his will, so much easier.

"Don't say his name" he whispers, his breath laced with alcohol, "he ain't here anymore. Ain't nothing to stop me now, right, sugar?" Joel purrs as he steps towards you, taking your face in his hands before starting a heated kiss, making you stumble.

This was so wrong, but it felt so right, the missing pieces falling like dominoes.

He was your pain divine: you needed his hurt to bleed and feel alive again. Maybe the red of the blood and the blue of your sadness could paint your darkest grey skies with a happiness you've craved since you lost him.

"Tell me to stop" Joel whispers, tempting like a devil as he kisses down your neck, littering it with hickeys.

"Don't"

Next thing you know, you're excusing yourself upstairs and then Joel goes missing too, both inside of your bedroom.

Your dress was the first thing to go.

"Wear it for me?" you're about to answer, lips pursing, but he cuts you off, "and don't lie, sugar. Don't get too used to the bad girl schtick"

"I only wore this dress so you could take it off"

He kisses you desperately, legs wrapped around his waist while he carries you to bed, and the memories of your first flood you as he drops you down to your back, watching the way you bounce. He has you just like he wanted: moaning his name while he leaves tender kisses on the soft bare flesh.

"Joel-" you gasp. Despite the chatter downstairs and music, you try to remain low as he wraps his lips around your nipples. He then moves to your breasts, covering them with his kisses and hickeys. He hadn't touched a woman ever since you left, the feeling of the rosy innocent skin on his rough teeth making him loose all common sense, the real thing even better than what he would try to conjure when he fucked himself in the bathroom at the memory of you.

He groans when he feels your hands roaming over his back, nails digging on the scarred skin.

"Someone's eager" he teases, seeing your damp underwear. "Is this 'cause of me?" you don't answer, too busy removing the cloth, only for his strong fingers to grab you and stop you. "Don't be shy, answer baby. We got a whole new year, yeah?"

"I need you Joel" you whine, not laughing at the joke "cut the crap"

He pushes you gently back down to the bed. "So needy sugar, want me to help ya'?"

You eagerly nod, making him laugh. But there's no mock, only love behind the sound.

"Will you let this old man take care of ya', pretty baby? Just use your words, and I'll be all y'rs"

"Do it, Joel. Just do it"

You gasp as your folds begin to be prodded open by the fat head of Joel's cock. You curse, feeling him push in just the tip, the sweet burn of your walls welcoming his size making you grab his arms that stand at the sides of your body, caging you in.

His tummy pushes against your stomach as he adjusts himself, his weight sinking your body on the creaking matress.

"'S just the tip, ready for the whole thing?"

You needed him, all of him.

"Yes, Joel. I want you" You say and he pushes in slowly, feeling his cock fill up every empty space that craved for him.

You squeeze your eyes shut as his hips roll back pulling out about halfway before rocking back in. His sloppy thrusts pick up a familiar pace that makes you moan and beg for more, head falling against the sheets as his pace speds up until he's fucking you senseless.

Joel's brain goes blank at the sight of you creaming on his dick and the obscene sounds leaving your pretty mouth. Did he really give this up? He'd definitely go back in time and slap the fuck out of his past self, because there is simply nothing better than having you under him, screaming his name like that's all you can ever say.

"Does he fuck you like this, huh?" Joel angles his hips, resuming his brutal pace. Your body jolts with each snap. "Is he enough for you?"

"Yes" his stomach drops, dark eyes now hesitant, "but he isn't you"

He pushes himself back in, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately.

"Tell me you'll leave him, y/n. Look me in the eyes and tell me who ya' really belong to"

Your eyes snap open at the possesiveness clashed with jealousy that drips from his sweat-soaked lips.

The confession falls easily, as meant to be. "Yours, Joel. Always was and will be"

He could cum just at the sight of your loving doe eyes.

Downstairs, the countdown begins, but in your room, all you can hear are his soft groans and your pathetic whimpers, and if the people would stop shouting, you could probably hear the squelch of your dripping cunt sucking in his girth with each thrust.

After a few more erratic thrusts, you feel his warm cum fill you up. Joel was always obsessed with how his cum seeped out of you and around his cock. Without thinking, his rough fingers push deep in you, making you yelp as he makes sure he isn't wasting a drop behind.

The countdown ends, and fireworks erupt outside as your head rests on the crook of his sweat covered neck.

"I love ya', sugar" those words you thought you imagined that one time, now real, so goddamn real his voice quivers and eyes get tearful with grief, "'S okay if ya' don't say it. I just wanted you to hear 'em. 'M just tired of wastin' my time"

He wraps your lips with his with tenderness you had only dreamed of. There is still a lot to talk and heal, but this time, his arms hold you like a promise. And you let yourself believe it.

Y/n's New Years' purposes: 1. Break up with Nick 2. Try to explain this seasonal mess to mom and dad 3. At last, try to be happy

cr: divider by @kodaswrld / gif @tomshiddles

[prettypieck]

ᴄᴀᴍ ɢɪʀʟ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Xavier x Reader

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: cam girl reader and her sweet friend Xavier who sheepishly agrees to sleep with her for 'content', but ends up fucking her so good that it starts to look a little too real on camera

ᴀ/ɴ: This is my first time posting on Tumblr, so please go easy on my writing lol. I also wrote this at 2am hehe. 3.6k words purrrr.

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Xavier, Xavier smut, love and deepspace smut, MDNI!, backshots.., fingering, idk what else to put

It was one of those days... you counted through the tips you earned at the local cafe you worked at and realized you were short to be able to pay your rent this month. You throw yourself on your couch in frustration, it was time to do your little side hustle again, except the side hustle isn't actually that little. You log onto your account on your phone and see all the money you were making from your previous videos, if it wasn't obvious, you were a cam girl.

It was something you started about a year ago, you would only film solo on your bed with all the different toys you owned. However, you noticed recently that your views were beginning to tank, maybe you needed to do something different to bring the attention of your audience back.

You quickly post on your account about anyone having any suggestions for your next video. Immediately, responses begin to flood in with people recommending the same thing: film with someone. With the amount of responses you were getting, you would be able to pay rent for next month as well.

You throw your phone on the couch and stare at the ceiling. Fuck. Who could you film with? Who would actually be down for that? You close your eyes and think about your options. But you startle when you hear a loud thud coming from the floor above you and then it hits you.

Xavier...

Your sweet neighbor and dearest friend, maybe he wouldn't mind, but then again he's so reserved and quiet you don't know if he'll even say yes to it. You grab the pillow next to you and scream into it from embarrassment of something you haven't even done yet.

Fuck it, asking him is better than getting evicted. You get up and smooth down your outfit and try to be presentable before heading up a floor to his place. Your heart goes a million a mile as you raise your hand and knock on his door.

You stand and wait as you hear shuffling on the other side, he was coming to the door. When it opens, Xavier stands there with his ruffled hair and rubs the sleep out of his eyes.

"Y/N," he says in his soft voice, "come in." He opens the door wider and lets you in, you rub your arm and walk in. Why were you acting like you've never been in his apartment? You wanted to smack yourself to stop being so shy about asking this silly question. Maybe you need to ease into it...

"Hey Xavier, what was that loud crash I heard earlier," You ask as you walk to his couch and take a seat amongst all his plushies that he had. He walks over after closing his door and picks up one of the plushies off the ground and raises it to show you, "this is the reason."

You follow him with a look of confusion as he also sits on the couch as well, stretching his arms back behind the couch. He lets out a chuckle at your puzzled face, "I guess the plushie we won last week at the arcade together isn't happy in my home, I got up after my nap to grab some water and tripped on it."

You laugh at that, Xavier was always tripping and falling. "Maybe the plushie would rather be with me, I'm the one who got it out the claw machine after you basically wasted all our tokens," you tease him and at that he rolls his eyes playfully.

"Be my guest," he yawns again and raises his arms above his head in another stretch and that's when your eyes begin to wander. His plain white t-shirt just slightly stretched at the collar rode up when he raised his arms and you can see his abs underneath. Your eyes wander even lower where he's manspreading and you notice his grey joggers, and your throat goes dry at the obvious bulge right in the middle. Woah, he was packing. You snap out of looking when he stops and looks over at you, "What's wrong?"

You blink at him twice, "what are you talking about?" He tilts his head slightly, like he's analyzing you, making you more nervous. "You're really red, are you feeling feverish?"

You flush even more at that, why can't you control yourself. "No," you inhale sharply, "actually- I came here to ask you something." You grip the end of your shorts in nervousness and your eyes look around before you finally have the confidence to look at Xavier again. You see he hasn't moved his gaze away from you, he blinks and waits for you to continue speaking. You flush at his undivided attention, Xavier used to be shy when you guys first became friends, but now he has no problem holding your stare.

"Uhm, so you know how I work at the cafe," he nods at that and you continue with a sigh, "well... sometimes I can't make the rent, so I also have a second job and it's online. I make content and I was wondering if you could help me with it."

Xavier's eyebrows come together like he's thinking about something, "...content? What kind of content?" It seems like he's not following what you're saying, you feel like you're corrupting an innocent soul who clearly doesn't dabble in this kind of stuff. Suddenly, you feel like aborting this mission.

"You know what, never mind," you say quickly as you get up from the couch to leave, but you barely make it a step away before Xavier grabs your wrist. Your body is hot in embarrassment, but you turn to look at him still seated on the couch, he looks at his hand on your wrist before looking up at you.

"I'll help you."

You blink once and then you blink twice. "Really?" He nods and you sit back down on the couch when he tugs on your wrist lightly, you liked that Xavier was willing to help, but you needed to be honest about what he was getting himself into. You close your eyes for a brief second and then blurt it out, "I'm a cam girl."

It's deathly silent and you keep your eyes shut as your face flushes once again. After what feels like a minute, you open your eyes and Xavier is staring at you, but this time just as flushed as you are. You can't help yourself when you begin to ramble to help save this situation, "I understand if you don't want to be the one to have sex with me, especially on camera, even though your face won't be shown. I've always done everything on my own. This is also new to me, I just couldn't think of anyone else that would be willing to help me-"

You stop when Xavier interrupts you, "I'll do it."

"Really?!" Another nod from him and you throw yourself at him for a hug. He catches you as you say a million thank you's.

Eventually you are back in your apartment that same night after your shower to prepare to film with Xavier. You gave him a time to come over earlier and were now wearing your best lingerie under your robe and had done your hair and makeup. The camera was set up in your bedroom, you decided it was best to film and post the video later rather than be live. You were afraid Xavier would accidentally show face and you wanted to avoid the awkward parts with him being out there on the internet.

Finally, there was a knock at the door and you go answer. Xavier was dressed casually and you watch him as he looks down at you and then your robe before his ears flush and he looks away for a second. "Hey," you breathe and he gives you one of his small smiles as he enters your place. "Hi."

He takes off his shoes at the entrance and follows you to your bedroom. You glance at him, "are you ready?"

He smiles at you again, "yeah, are you?" You laugh a little at that, before nodding. The next five minutes are spent with you adjusting the camera while Xavier sits in the middle of your bed awkwardly, you were making sure to just show him from his neck down. Once that's set you click record and walk over to your drawer and pull out one of your vibrators.

Xavier follows your every move as you move towards him and take off your robe in one quick motion, leaving you in only your underwear and bra. He feels like the breath left his lungs as he trails his gaze down all of you and back up. You are beautiful. Perfect. He couldn't believe he was going to be able to hold you like this, touch you like this.

You crawl onto the bed and get comfortable between his legs as you look at yourself on the camera monitor. You were much smaller than Xavier, so your whole body and face was in view. "Here," you tilt your head back to look at his face as your hand holds out the vibrator to him. He flushes when he looks at it and then back to you, but you feel yourself pulse when you see the slight heat behind his eyes.

He takes it from you before hesitantly asking, "Can- Can I touch you?" Your heart races in anticipation as you nod at him.

Your body lights up with goosebumps when you feel his left hand trail up and down your waist. You guys hold each other's gaze, as you relax back into his chest. Your eyes drop to see him put the vibrator down next his thigh and he raises his right hand to gently grab your jaw. His thumb caresses your face as he stares at you, and his gaze alone makes you feel damp between your legs and he hasn't really touched you like that yet.

He continues his gentle rubbing and then his hooded gaze drops from your eyes to your mouth. You don't remember whether it was him or you to initiate it, but you guys begin making out. It's gentle, sensual. His lips are soft and every so often his tongue begins to peak through and you allow him in. Your tongues begin fighting for dominance and the kiss begins to get a little more heated, you reach your right arm over to the back of his neck to keep his mouth on yours.

Your body tingles as he hums into the kiss and breaks it to look into your own heated gaze before going in for another kiss. While this continues, his right hand reaches down to your thigh and he rubs it before moving your legs to be against his spread ones. This leaves you open right to the camera and you gasp lightly when you feel the slight breeze against your damp underwear.

Your body slightly jolts when you feel something rubbing against your clothed sex. You break the kiss this time and look down to see Xavier rubbing the vibrator up and down your sex before you throw your head back against his shoulder. He takes the opportunity to kiss your exposed neck and shoulder, as his left hand goes up to squeeze your breast through your bra.

You can't stop the hums and pants that leave your mouth before you can't take the teasing anymore, "more." "More?" Xavier leaves another kiss on your neck before looking down at your flushed face. "Then beg for it."

Your breath hitches, was this really Xavier? Your quiet friend who is the sweetest person you know asking you to beg him. But your body is so heated you actually listen to him, "Please, I want more. I want you."

You watch Xavier as he groans at your words before diving in for another kiss, this time you feel his hands at the waistband of your underwear as he pulls them off. You raise your hips and then your legs as you help with sliding them off. You keep your legs parted and when you guys break away from your kiss for the third time, you can't help but watch Xavier's face. He looks into your eyes before he looks down and groans again, "Look at how pretty you are."

"Touch me, " you beg with a pout on your face, "please."

Xavier wastes no time in tossing the vibrator to the side as his hand reaches between your legs and his finger grazes between your wet folds. "You're soaked," he says into your ear and your eyes rolls when he rubs on your clit for a quick second before going back down to your entrance, teasing you with his middle finger.

Your hips roll in attempt to get his fingers to fill you up, and when he finally finishes teasing you, he sinks one of his digits in. Your eyes roll back with a light moan and when he pulls the finger back out, he eases back in with two this time. One of your hands grips his thigh while the other holds on to the bicep of the arm that's in between your legs. Your hand nor your vibrator would have felt as good as his hand did.

Xavier was reaching spots inside you that had you writhing against him and moaning. He kept talking you through it, "you're doing so good baby." You feel yourself clench around his fingers at the nickname and he hums at that. "You like when I call you baby?"

You can't stop yourself from nodding your head. Your high was coming so fast, your panting louder as your body began to shake. Xavier clearly noticed this, pulling his fingers out at the last second to rub them against your folds, purposely avoiding your clit. You groan out in protest and he shakes his head at that, "Use your words baby. What do you want?"

You have no shame holding his gaze when you speak, "I want you to make me cum. Please."

He smirks at you, "good girl."

You don't expect it when he plunges his fingers into you and begins a deep pace that has you back on edge. Your moans get louder and your nails dig into him when you finally reach your climax.

You feel like you had the life fucked out of you, but it was hardly over. Xavier brings his hand filled with your juices to his lips and sucks them clean. That makes you only want him even more, and you get on your knees in front of him. Reaching the hem of his shirt to help him take it off and then the next moment you're both naked and making out once again.

You both can't get enough of touching each other everywhere.

Xavier positions you on your hands and knees in front of the camera. You both moan when he begins to rub himself against your folds. None of you seemed to care that he wasn't even wearing a condom, you just wanted him inside you already.

"I want you inside me," you whine and Xavier hums in response, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you push your hips purposely back into his and feel the head of his cock dipping in. He lets out a grunt before tightening his grip on one of your hips and then slowly begin pushing in.

Your mouth falls open as your face scrunches up while he stretches you out inch by inch. Xavier was definitely more on the larger side, so you needed time to adjust. You can't help but let out little whines and pants, before turning your head around to look up at him from behind you. He felt like he could come just like this, the look on your face enough to send him over the edge.

"You're taking me so well baby," he praises as he finally bottoms out inside you.

At some point, you can't remember how many times you've came already. Xavier was relentless, changing the pace each time he made you cum.

“Look at the camera,” Xavier grunts hoarsely as he grabs your hair and pulls your head back. You let out a moan as you lift back to rest on your forearms, arching your back and looking at yourself on the camera. 

You looked more fucked out of your mind than you usually do in your typical content. You could see the skin around your eyes turning red from the tears, the blush on your cheeks and the way your reddened lips hang open with drool threatening to spill from the corners. And this is all due to the cause of one thing.

“X-Xavier,” you can’t help but moan out his name, knowing you’re going to have to cut that part out later to keep his identity a secret. He groans in response, his thrusts not stopping their pace, you feel him kissing your cervix with each one. He pulls out slightly more than halfway and then goes in with a grind at the end of each one. 

“Yes,” he’s breathless, “yes, baby.” You stare at the his sculpted body from behind you through the camera, biting your lip and whimpering as you can only see his mouth hang open. The rest of his face cut off from his height on his knees and the fact that this is how you’ll keep his identity a secret when you post it. But it’s hard when you can feel his name on the tip of your tongue once again, you want to chant it like a mantra. You want to see him.

Fuck it. 

You shake your head slightly and feel his grip loosen on your hair, and you turn your head around to look at him. The sight of him alone has you clenching around him and your eyes rolling, he was glistening with sweat and the look in his hooded eyes was darker than you’ve ever seen. His damp hair stuck to his forehead. Upon seeing your face as well, Xavier couldn’t help but moan, his brows furrowing, and he grips your hips tighter. You looked so beautiful like this, just like this for him. 

You begin pushing yourself back into him again to meet his thrusts halfway and your mouth hangs open once again. Both of you held eye contact, not bothering to even remember that the camera was still rolling with your face not in it. 

“Xavier you feel so good,” you slur your words as you feel so drunk off of every thrust he gives you. His dick was touching places you couldn’t yourself. Xavier was thinking the same thing, your pussy was sucking him in and he felt its pulse with every movement. The way you moaned his name made him even more feral. You felt what he was feeling and now he was never going to let you go. 

“Fuck it,” he says under his breath and you gasp as he suddenly presses forward and his chest is against your back. He wraps his bicep around your neck, using his elbow to prop him up as the lock around the front of your neck has you facing towards the cameras once again. 

“Like that,” you moan loudly as he continues to pound into you, squeezing your neck and face in his arm. Xavier’s face was showing in the frame now, he no longer cared to hide while fucking you for your content. This felt personal now. 

You can feel his breath in your ear as he pants and grunts right next to it. Yet you still can’t take your eyes off him on the monitor, watching him turn his head to nip at the shell of your ear and you can see his smirk forming as he makes a ‘hmph’ sound. 

“Like this,” he grunts as you feel his other arm reach down under you and find your clit. You squeal at the sensation added with everything else and if it weren’t for Xavier pressing you into this position, you would have collapsed. 

“Mmhmm,” you hum as he works you better than you can do with yourself and your toys. 

“Look at us baby,” Xavier’s head is right next to yours on the frame, both of you flushed, “we’re perfect together, this pussy was made for me. Gonna fill you with my cum and you’re gonna take it like a good girl.”

He accentuates the last two words with two hard thrusts. All you can do is choke on your own words as your vision goes white and you feel your walls clench around him. He lets out a groan of your name before you feel the warmth of his cum filling you up.

You both are panting and sweaty as you guys collapse and lay there for a second. You feel like you can't move. Xavier kisses your shoulder before getting up and clicking the end of the recording on the camera. He walks out of sight before coming back with a warm towel as he gently helps clean you up.

Xavier goes back to being the sweet man he's always been. And as he comes back into bed to cuddle with you, you realize you guys aren't going to be just friends.

[massivechildtidalwave]

Its a terrifying scene. The camera angle revealing parts of a science lab straight out of hell. Kitchen knifes and scalpels lay dripping on a table.

On the dissection table- because thats all it could be- lays a small child. Small but noticable gills on the neck, the occasional fleck of scales and webbed fingers mark them as merfolk.

Viewers watch on in horror as the table is bloodied. A steady incision made in the left leg. The Justice League had been contacted but there was no indication they would make it in time to help.

A large Bang! went off in the background of the video, clearly catching the duo off guard. The man turned to his (wife?) with a weird moniter in his hands going off the charts and with an excited yelp they both took off running up the steps that were just barely in frame behind them.

A few long moments later, two teens sneak into the lab. The boy rushed over to unchain their parents 'test subject' while the girl kept watch.

Freshly released limbs had bloody wounds rubbed into the pinned down areas and quiet whispers of empathy were only just picked up by the audio. One of the viewers pointed out that the boy himself had scars in similar places.

The boy picked up the kid and the trio quickly slipped away out of camera view. Soft thuds mark their escape from the house, seemingly unaware of the Livestream their parents were apparently trying to make.

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

The story makes international news and leaves everyone on high alert. Government agencies scramble to prove they had no connection to the couple, the GIW undergos mass arrest when their names Maddie and Jack Fenton come up on their payroll. A channel is made to document any sightings of the kids.

The first one is posted after a day. It's security footage from a fast food restaruant. Four teens- the two from before plus a goth and someone named ''Tucker''- along with the comparitively tiny Mer sit in a booth. ''Tucker'' and "Sam'' argue about possible dietary restriction before seemingly ordering one of everything. There is soup, and a burger, the largest cup filled with water they could find in the back, chicken tenders and salad.

When the server goes to deliver everything, the four watch them like hawks, understandable given the previous day.

(Did any of them even know Half the world knew what went down? )

(Did any of them know how Aquaman was taking the news of one of his subjects being injured like that? )

( Did any of them realize that their choice to protect the kid was one of the main reasons war hadn't been declared yet on the human race?)

Jasmine is heard softly encouraging the tiny Mer to eat something, anything and eventually the soup is downed and apparently liked enough that she gets up to order more.

Right before they leave, while under the relative safety of a roof, they swap the bandages wrapped around most of the kids leg and arms and slowly tell them about future plans despite the fact that they probably can't understand the language.

(Jasmine points at a laptop screen filled with a view of the ocean. "We" she circles the group with her pinky "are going there to get you home." The atlantian can't speak english but the way their eyes light up and they relax further into Sams side shows they understand the basic message)

(The sight- of the child definitely scared but trusting them enough to get so close- helps calm the atlantians with access to the internet. Somewhere Aquaman finds himself able to breathe slightly easier.)

[harmonysanreads]

As far as carrying you is concerned, Phainon is an all-rounder. He can do the princess carry, the piggyback, the ‘throwing over the shoulder like a sack of rice’, the parcel-carry and whatever other forms of this practice are there. But, his favorite has to be making you sit on his left shoulder and holding you still with the adjacent hand. So that his right hand can be free in case of him needing to use his weapon. You get a nice seat and good view of your surroundings and he gets to hold you while having a route for emergencies. Win-win in his book.

Mydei prefers hauling you up on his right shoulder and picking a brisk pace to... wherever you're going. He reasons that it's faster and more efficient — especially if you happen to be in a situation that involves running. If you voice out the discomfort factor of this a few times though, he'll switch to keeping you balanced on his right arm, a one-hand carry basically. As it happens, his left side doesn't attain many comfort-points due to his armory and he isn't ignorant to that. However way he carries you, he'll prioritize swiftness, efficiency and your comfort.

You carry Anaxa. I mean, can he... carry himself? Granted, the scholar doesn't look the part and in his current state, probably doesn't have much stamina to carry around another person. However, I'd like to believe he's much physically stronger than he looks like — observing the way he handles his gun. He prefers cradling you, so that you won't fall face-first into the ground, like a stack of books almost. So, the closest candidate is a princess carry. But is definitely a bit awkward as he isn't used to it.

[foxy-eva]

Sweet Dreams

Summary: You fall asleep on Spencer on the way home after a long case

Request: Tired Reader and Spencer who are just co-workers with a lot of chemistry. Reader accidentally falls asleep on Spencer while they’re on the plane after a really long case

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Category: Fluff 

Content Warning: none

Word Count: 700

Masterlist

A saccharine smile was painted over your face when you found your seat right beside Spencer on the plane. There were many seats still available but his nearness was so tempting that you couldn’t resist. 

Softly, you asked, “Mind if I sit here?” 

“No uh… Not at all,” Spencer mumbled, already overwhelmed with your proximity. 

The heat your body radiated warmed Spencer’s skin, making him yearn to feel even more of it. Ever so slightly, he leaned closer until his arm was almost touching yours. Basking in your nearness was everything he longed for, what he dreamed about at night and what kept him going through all the hardship of his job. 

Something so seemingly small as you unintentionally brushing over his hand when taking a file from him had the power to fuel his reverie about you for weeks. He wondered if you had already noticed how often he sought out your company throughout the workday. Certainly the rest of the team must have caught onto it by now. 

They were profilers after all. 

Derek sat down across from you, smirking at the man beside you when he noticed the rosy shade on his cheeks. “Shut up,” Spencer whispered before he even had a chance to say anything. 

Turning your head, you looked at him with confusion written over your face. “What?” you murmured.

“Not you,” Spencer clarified and you decided against asking more questions. 

The last case had been exhausting and you were glad you could finally relax for once. Leaning back further into your seat, you quickly noticed the harbingers of sleep approaching. Spencer watched from the corner of his eyes as you closed yours, content to finally see you at ease. 

He focussed back on the book in his hands until he felt a pleasant pressure against his arm. Already asleep, you found his side to support your body. Just a few seconds later your head dropped to his shoulder, having him freeze in his place. 

Breathing in your heavenly scent, Spencer started to feel drunk and he didn’t want to lose your nearness again. He didn’t dare to move and prompt you to wake up, so he just kept still even when his body began aching from the immobility. It didn’t matter, not when you seemed so comfortable like that. 

Your hot breath tickled Spencer’s neck, making his skin break out in goosebumps. Even if it was a silly thought, he still hoped that this moment would never end. How could he ever recover from finally feeling you pressed against his body?

“Loverboy,” Derek teased. “Don’t you wanna turn that page?” 

Spencer realized he had been staring at his book for many minutes without reading a singular sentence. He couldn’t care less. Turning his head, he dared to look at you. His heart began aching at the view of you curled up in your seat and leaning against him in an attempt to find comfort. 

Then, your body slightly jerked and you woke up, quickly realizing you were basically cuddling with Spencer. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled, your voice heavy with sleep. 

Despite your body’s objection, you attempted to sit up straight. That was when you felt Spencer’s hand grab yours. 

“Stay,” he softly spoke. “Please.” 

His words were so surprising that you were sure you must have been stuck in a dream. There was no reason to argue when he seemed so inviting and you were still so, so weary. Nodding, you leaned closer to him again once more. 

As if it was the most natural thing in the world, Spencer lifted his arm to wrap it around your shoulder so you could comfortably curl into his side, having your head rest against his chest. 

The sound of his heart beating against his ribcage could only be described as erratic but you didn’t mind. You were very familiar with the feeling of having your heart almost jump out of your chest whenever you were close to him. 

It was a comforting thought to know he felt the same way. 

Thank you for reading! Please like, reblog and leave a comment to show your support and help me stay motivated to write more stories!

Taglist: @adoredfromafar @grumpyy-bearr @frickin-bats @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @xserenax-13 @alexxavicry @samuel-de-champagne-problems @evvy96 @reidsbookclub @lover-of-books-and-tea @nomajdetective @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @castiels-majestic-wings

[hoshigray]

Request! Geto never had to worry bc reader basically never interacts with guys. That 3we until he saw her hugging her male coworker and now he has to put her in place if ykiwm😋

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: oh yikesss, possessive sugu incoming, oof. lmao this is lowkey like the one i did for my kinktober, but what the hell

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - canon divergence; Geto is a jujutsu tech sorcerer - shibari; rope bondage (cross-chest box tie, frogtie) - sex toys; use of a vibrator - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - pleasure denial - mild possessive behavior - pet names (angel, baby, pretty girl, my love, sweetie) - cameo: Gojo - mention of drool/saliva.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.3k

“Hahhh…ahhaa, Sug’ruu, I can’t…Mmm!”

“Aww, are you feeling well, my love? You look awful.”

And whose fault would that be?

Geto removes his jacket to put aside one of the chairs of the many desks. He stretches his sides and cracks his neck, releasing a massive sigh after a long inhale. He’s now relaxed that he’s back in his classroom. 

However, he isn’t the only one here. Someone he knows is here with him — waiting for him to return. And Geto’s lips curl into a smile once he looks down to see someone on the cold wooden floor.

You were in nude form, clothes sprawled to the side of you. A long red rope contorts around your body, binding your arms behind your back with your wrists tied together. Your thighs and ankles were restricted together; the red ropes tied the leg together to that of a frog-like position. And a red blindfold covers your line of sight. You were whining and writhing in this bounded position. Why? 

Geto slowly walks around you to take in the view, noticing that the vibrators he placed on your body were still where he had left it. Your nipples had a vibrator taped on to each, and the buzzing noises made Geto’s skin crawl. There was another set of bullet vibrators buzzing down south. Three white wires are connected to a remote lying on the floor, and they seem to be stuffed inside the wet entrance of your chasm. So, five vibrators are teasing your body all at once. What a hell. 

He comes down to your level, bringing you up with a hand to lie on his propped knee, and your breathing so low and hushed. “How are you feeling, angel?” He lifts the blindfold to have you peek at him, noticing your eyes are puffy and wet. Poor thing was crying for him.

“Sugu…” You called him by his nickname, a tool in hopes of getting on his good side. “Can you…please…”

Dark eyebrows raise, “Please what, pretty girl?” He shields your eyes again and slithers his hand down from your chin to your neck, and he loves how your breathing lessens when he approaches your breasts. He pulls off one taped vibrator to free the bud. For a moment before he blows on it, “What do you want from me?”

“Can I—Ohh!” His tongue flicks your nipple; it’s so sensitive and sore! “Can I please…cum…?”

“Ahh, what a dirty girl,” Geto chuckles to you as he kisses your mound, his hand now traveling further down to the three wires on the floor. He gently pulls one, a loud noise of one vibrator bumping into another. “You were doing so well being patient for me. I have one more meeting, baby; why can’t you wait after that?”

Your breathing gets shaky, leaning towards his frame to get through. “Because...Mmmm, I want you to make me feel—Ohh…! Good...”

“Is that right?” More laps around your nipple before he sucks it in. “You want me to make you feel good? Not Satoru?” You gulped at the mention of the other’s name, feeling Geto’s intense, indigo gaze on your face. 

In all honesty, Geto admits he can be a jealous man — especially regarding you, his sweet angel. The reason why you’re in this situation is because your partner saw you hug another man yesterday. Satoru Gojo, the dark-haired man’s best friend of all people! Granted, it was because you were only giving a gift of sweets to the tall sorcerer because he came back from a terrible, dangerous mission with Geto. And the white-haired fool, oblivious to personal space as always, brought you in for a hug as he thanked you for the bag of sweets you handed him. 

Putting his hands on you did make Geto unpleasant, yet this was Gojo we were talking about; the guy acts like personal boundaries don’t apply to him. However, what did upset the man more was you reciprocating the embrace with a cheerful smile — a smile only Geto was to bear witness to. It twinged his heart – cliche, but it did. You toyed with his feelings, and he had to correct you for such behavior. 

The man increases the intensity of the vibrators inside your cunt, and your body jerks unexpectedly. He then slides a finger inside your vagina to play around your walls with the toys, and you have to remind yourself not to scream as his fingertips scrape the velvet texture. “You hurt my feelings, sweetie,” he listens to your whimpers get higher and higher as he increases the speed of his finger. “You know I’m not one for sharing — especially with Satoru.” 

“Hahhh, Sugu’uuu, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—“ You press your lips together to suppress a moan once Geto takes your nipple back into his mouth, pushing the nub to the roof of his mouth and skimming it with his teeth. A sharp gasp escapes your frame at the addition of another finger inside you, and more tears well up from how much stimulation is happening. “Nmoohh, please, I won’t do it again…”

“You promise?” He whispers into your ear, slowly removing his fingers to increase the intensity of the vibrators inside you. Those same fingers now go to your clit where he swipes in slow circles, and you nearly choke on your spit. “Tell me, who’s my favorite girl?” 

“Mee! I’m y’re favorite…!” Despite the ropes tightening around your ankles and thighs, your lower half still jolts to his touch on your delicate pearl, trying to sway your hips to move with the friction. 

“And who’s your only favorite man in this world?”

“You, Sugu!” Oh, the way you desperately said his nickname was so pathetic to hear — so sweet. He couldn’t stop the sneer from flourishing on his face. “You’re my favorite—Mmmph! Always…”

Good girl. “You wanna come so bad, baby?” His thumb and forefinger rub against your clitoris, evoking cute squeaks to fly out your drooling mouth. You nod hastily; that’s not what he wanted, so he pinches your clit. “Words, pretty girl, words.”

“Yessh, please let me cum, my love…!” Now that’s what he wanted to hear, being all cute and pitiful for him to grant you what you’re craving. And you can feel it coming, your nerves heightened with the climb of your orgasm.

But then, you sense his fingers gone from your clit, the cold air occupying their absence. Instead, he puts the vibrator that once teased your nipple back and rests your figure onto the cold wooden floor once more. Your brows screw together with quivered lips, “No, pleaseee! Don’t leave me again!” You whined.

Too late, he was adorning his jacket and heading out for the sliding door of the classroom. “I’m sorry, angel, but I gotta get to this meeting first. Don’t make too much noise while I’m gone, okay?” God, you pulled his heart the way you helplessly laid there. “Don’t give me that look, my love. I’ll be right back when it’s done.” He steps outside and closes the door behind him, swiftly locking it while checking for his surroundings.

And it was a good thing he did, too. Because right around the corner came his best friend, Gojo, the blindfolded sorcerer, retrieving the raven-headed other. “Yo, there ya are, Suguru! The meeting’s about to start; don’t slack off before Yaga comes for our heads.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” he walks alongside his companion, heading to the other side of the hall. 

“Hmm, by the way, where’s Y/n?” The white-haired man inquires while scratching his ear. “I haven’t seen them since this morning.”

Geto hums to the question, the shrug of his shoulders to seal the deal. “They felt sick all of a sudden, went to go see Shoko to check.”

The taller sorcerer tilts his head with a scoff. “Who said you were a good liar?”

“You’re one to talk.”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.

[filurig]

CONSIDERABLE LINDWURM REVAMP ... id always intended for them to be like some extant member of a very early ophidian family but they just looked like grass snake but feathers and four limbs for some reason. So now we have been made more silly. more info i couldnt fit into the sheet...

the mentioned integrated lindwurms in troll and tomte societies have now existed in them for a while - and the ones that have a longer history, actually have a slight genetic difference over solitary lindwurms, which affects them in that they have more gregarious tendencies. troll/tomte integrated lindwurms often have very different cultures than independent lindwurms, however, even they also have a more "casual" attitude towards their young, often having them be cared for by troll "serpenthandlers"

culture is sort of carried over in independent lindwurm populations through occasional interaction and the "bachelor groups". bachelor groups are actually often led by an "elder", or an elder couple of lindwurms who no longer breed. interactions are often still sparse, but elder lindwurms tend to be more open to interaction and often provide guidance and experience to them when prompted.

their spiritual beliefs often base themselves on the idea of the "mother serpent", whose eyes are always watching - the sun and the moon. it is believed that she flies across the sky during the cycle, slowly "spinning", with each full revolution being a whole day/night cycle. the sun and moon are the right/left eyes. so basically whether its day or night depends on which side of her body is facing the earth. im kind of generalising their religion here because while there are local variations this is the "base" they usually build on. tomte/troll acclimated lindwurm cultures usually integrate some of their religious figures as well, but the Mother Serpent remains the highest deity for them even then. the journey of the mother serpent also informs many lindwurms' view of raising young. kind of still figuring this out lol but essentially they believe that any personal "guiding" influence on a growing young lindwurm is going to make them veer off the "proper" path and mess up their development, most likely resulting in the young lindwurms never "evolving" from their more basal, serpentine state. again, the young lindwurms look a lot more like true snakes, scales and all (i did doodle this but it looks sketchbook crap so might doodle it some other time properly and make it its own post lol). this is why while troll/tomte acclimated lindwurms don't care about "raising" their young, they also are very particular in how trolls/tomtar raise them for them - in that they want no personal intervention and socialisation, basically just let them be little noodles in some enclosure. they do think its important for their young to encounter dangers and also take down live prey, so those are also requirements. like setting off a fox in their enclosures and only feeding live prey that the baby gets to hunt. if the baby gets hurt then that is what the forces that led the Mother Serpent to evolve wills (or somethang)

courtship among lindwurms often involve funny displays from the males with their eyes and moving their head around to show off their crest - not 100% sure how they go about it but it def looks silley as hale!!

while they dgaf about the babies generally, they are fiercely protective of their eggs.

very large as adults (basically as "tall" as an average human when "standing" like the gray one in the picture) but start out very, very small, about as big as a grass snake.

high mortality rate when young, they have relatively large clutches because of it. when the eggs hatch the couple just kinda fricks off a bit waiting for the young to leave

[star-anise]

Currently getting my socks clean blown off by Rethinking Narcissism, by Dr. Craig Malkin. Which I found, in a roundabout way, from this video on Midsommar, grief, and narcissism.

Tonight I woke up from a nap and accidentally took my morning meds, so I'm going to be up for a few hours because of the meth. In place of sleep, I'll try to roughly sum up some basic ideas proposed by the research the book is based on:

That traits of "narcissism" like entitlement, grandiosity, and feeling special are not inherently toxic. There are times and places they are appropriate and beneficial. If you show up at a hospital with a gunshot wound to the chest, you should not sit and wait to be seen after people with earaches and coughs. (Actually, medical systems are designed to prioritize people with more urgent needs, and you qualify under that system. You are special and are deserving of different treatment than those others, which is why making your needs known, even insisting on it if you're not listened to appropriately the first time, is an extremely good idea. It keeps you from bleeding to death on the floor, and keeps the hospital from getting its pants sued off by your heirs.)

It is more useful to view "narcissism" not as an inherent immutable personality trait, but as a cluster of coping mechanisms. As previously stated, there are times they are exactly the right coping mechanism for the job. However, people we call "narcissists" tend to cling to these ones even when they become detrimental to themselves and others, often because they lack other ways of regulating their emotions and getting their needs met. And that is something they can change, if a person is willing to put in sincere and difficult work. It is not usually fast change; it's a matter of years, not weeks. But a skillbuilding approach turned Borderline Personality Disorder from an immutable curse to a fully treatable (though not quickly treatable) condition, and there's a lot of hope that it can do the same for Narcissistic Personality Disorder.

Meanwhile, there's an opposite end to the narcissism spectrum, and it is also pathological and destructive to hang out there all the time. It's an aversion, or even a resistance, to expecting yourself or other people to treat your own feelings, thoughts, ideas, needs, or preferences as important. For Greek mythology reasons, its proposed name is Echoism.

Unfortunately, because most of the damage echoism does is, by its very nature, localized to its sufferer and their own personal relationships, its downsides aren't often talked about. In fact, it's often seen as an ideal moral state, a kind of altruism or saintliness everyone should strive for. As a pathological coping mechanism a person is trapped in, though, it's often more a fear-based reflex than a conscious and deliberate attempt to achieve some real and specific good. It's not actually as beneficial as being able to recognize your needs, desires, positive aspects, and areas of competence or excellence, and bring them forward in your relationships with other people and yourself.

To me this has all been a cross between a gut-punch and a cool, sweet drink of water. There have been other ways to describe echoism over the years, but this feels like the most concise and useful one I've seen in ages.

It specifically puts its pin down in the middle of the moral debate a lot of people struggle with—"What right do I have to put myself forward? What hope do I have of being seen and accepted? Isn't it better not to burden anybody else?"—and says that the problem is not feeling in touch with either side of the equation, but specifically, the inability to move from one part of the spectrum to another when it's merited by circumstances.

When I was a child, I thought Echoism was the answer. It was my ideal. I thought it was what would get me the love and acceptance I wanted, and would keep me safe from the pain of rejection or not being understood. I had no idea it would actually, in fact, be the primary cause of alienation and loneliness for the rest of my life.

Now I'm so deeply thankful I couldn't fully achieve it, in practical terms. As hard as I tried to erase myself, there were always things I loved too much to suppress. I still found ways to express and discover myself in the books I read, the stories I wrote, the intellectual work of school and the experience of pursuing hobbies I loved, my ambitions to be helpful even when they demanded I stop being selfless, and the relationships where I felt safe enough to experience love and acceptance even if I didn't think I deserved them.

There's this question I found a while back that echoed in my bones: Who am I allowed to be around you? Because that's what I felt like, as a child. If I wanted to engage with other people and minimize my risk of harm, it was my job to bend into a pretzel and fit the shape they wanted. And thank god, thank god, thank god, I couldn't fully do it. Despite everything, there were parts of me too strong and bright to lop off completely to get my arms and legs inside the carriage. I was able to take care of myself and let them grow in secret until I found social places I could let them out again. Despite myself, I found ways to grow and thrive, well beyond the trauma that said I shouldn't have.