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topazadine · 2 months

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Avoiding therapy speak in writing

I think we all know by now that therapy speak is irritating and unrealistic, especially if you are writing in a fantasy world that doesn't even have modern psychology.

Part of the reason that it is so annoying is that it is the definition of telling instead of showing: characters are just plainly informing us of their feelings rather than making us work for a better understanding. It's cheap and boring. Instead of making your characters seem like complex individuals with their own hangups and difficulties, they seem like plot points programmed to tell us things.

But obviously, you want to put these people in situations and have them talk about it! How do you do that without sounding maudlin? Here are some options.

Listen to real arguments/conversations

I cannot stress enough how important it is to listen to how actual real human beings talk to each other during heightened emotional states. They don't have to be nasty abusers, and they don't have to be perfect angels, just everyday people doing their normal thing.

Of course, I'd hope you're not seeing people argue all the time, but if you do happen to see it, listen carefully and notice how people actually address their problems. Think back to tough conversations that you have had, even if you wouldn't classify them as arguments. Consider how people acted and reacted to one another. Notice how normal humans talk about issues outside of therapy, even intelligent and emotionally evolved people.

I've had years of therapy, and even I do not talk in therapy ways about my issues when I'm talking to my family or friends. It just feels cheesy and fake outside of that particular setting - plus, it freaks other people out and can seem kind of manipulative. Try talking like that in a real conversation and see how uncomfortable it is. You'll understand why avoiding therapy speak is important.

Consider the character's own hangups

Just as everyone has their own unique speaking style and mindset, so do we all have our own argument styles. These are often informed by our pasts and upbringing; they are as varied as our own histories. However, there are a few different options.

Someone with a happy upbringing may be more assertive and willing to address their problems because they had that demonstrated to them as children.

A spoiled child will grow up to be a demanding adult who refuses to give any quarter.

Those who got yelled at a lot as children may shut down and fawn to avoid getting hurt.

Someone who grew up in a violent household may mimic that behavior and get incredibly aggressive when upset.

Individuals whose parents didn't teach them emotional regulation will lash out and get loud.

Manipulative people may stay very calm and gaslight the other person, or they may get hysterical to garner sympathy and make people focus on comforting them.

Someone who has gone to therapy may revert to their original argument style, or they may imperfectly apply what they have learned in a way that feels a bit unnatural. They may start out with rage, then force themselves to calm down through grounding techniques.

People who have been coached through previous emotional outbursts could demand a time out, then fail to actually calm themselves down.

Some may refuse to acknowledge they are upset and insist, in increasingly forceful terms, that they are fine.

Others may get quiet or crack a joke to ease the tension, but it doesn't really help.

Keep each confrontation short

IRL, emotional confrontations are generally not that long. They don't go on for hours and hours, though it can feel that way. No one is going on and on about their feelings and sharing every little detail of how they feel (at least not that I know of personally, maybe other people are different).

Even the worst arguments I have had, the real nexus of the argument was maybe an hour or two, though the fallout lasted much longer. I'd say there was an hour maximum of real, active confrontation, preceded or followed by hours/days/weeks of simmering frustration.

Why? Because arguments are exhausting. You don't have the energy for that in the heat of the moment. Yes, feuds and fights can last years, but each actual confrontation is short.

For longer, more serious issues, hash it out over a few sessions rather than all at once. It's rare to get everything out of the way immediately unless the characters already have a strong, loving relationship.

Show incongruencies

Especially for more reserved people, they will likely have their emotions leaking all over the place but won't actually say anything. As such, focus on body language while keeping the conversation more focused on the plot. For example, Character A might be crying but still trying to argue their point about whatever is going on.

Address physical complaints instead of emotional ones

In many cases, people will use "I'm tired" or "I didn't sleep well" or "I'm not feeling great" as shorthand for whatever is actually bothering them. It relieves pressure by not making them talk about upsetting matters while still addressing their discomfort in some form.

You should also consider the fact that some people can't connect physical sensations to feelings, so they may genuinely feel ill and not really understand why. This is especially common in people who can't emotionally regulate or have been through trauma.

For myself, I tend to somatize my feelings, so I might not feel upset, but I will feel physically sick. My stomach will hurt, my chest will get tight, or I'll get a headache, but my emotional state will seem calm. This isn't all that unusual, and many people experience this to different degrees.

As such, you can have your character say that their stomach hurts, or that they have a headache and can't discuss this anymore, or that they need to go lie down because they're dizzy. If we know they're relatively healthy, this can be a clue that they're getting overwhelmed but either cannot pinpoint their emotions or don't want to discuss them.

Let characters advance and retreat

A lot of the time, someone will address a scary emotion and then retreat again, sometimes over a period of hours, days, or even weeks. This is normal: most of us don't have the emotional fortitude to forge ahead through something difficult all in one go. Character A may say something vulnerable, then change the topic, laugh it off, say they're done discussing it, or even leave the situation.

Leave emotions partially unaddressed

Again, it's rare for someone to spill out everything they're feeling all in one go. As such, have Character A address the most important thing - or the least important, depending on their level of emotional maturity - and let it be done for then.

They might say their small piece, but when someone tries to probe deeper, they don't have an answer, or they get "stuck" on that one emotional level and cannot go further.

If Character B keeps pushing, then they may get incredibly upset and push back, or retreat.

Have Character B point out the feelings

Works especially well if the other character is a close companion or a parental figure. Often, people who know us really well will have better insight into our emotions than we do. Or, we might have good insight into our emotions but are still too afraid to open up. Having Character B point out the issue gives Character A grace to be more honest.

I can't tell you how many times I've been really upset, so I've distracted from the issue by getting angry about something completely different. Then, my mom will gently point out that I'm not actually crying about my new plastic cup being broken or whatever; I'm actually upset about XYZ. In that moment, I realize I've been caught out and admit that yes, that's what I'm really upset about.

Have Character A address it with a third character

Who among us hasn't gone to someone else to talk about our feelings? Having a third party serve as a sounding board is normal. Sometimes, Character A will feel such catharsis from this conversation that they don't address it as thoroughly with Character B.

Of course, you can use this to your advantage and create more tension if the third character gives bad advice or is biased.

Remember that just because the third party responded well does not mean that Character B does. You also have to avoid omniscience and remember that Character B wasn't privy to that conversation.

Have one confrontation be a stand-in for a larger one

I always think about the "The Iranian Yogurt Is Not the Issue" post when I think about this. Often times, things like not doing the dishes or whatever aren't actually the big deal: it's lack of boundaries, communication, or respect. A minor argument can be shorthand for a larger one that is too challenging for the characters to tackle.

This isn't just creating drama for the hell of it, though; it's about exploring the larger issues without making the characters lay it out on the table. A good reader will be able to see it's not about the Iranian Yogurt as long as you set up the relationship well.

Currently, I am writing a story where Uileac and his sister Cerie go to rescue Uileac's husband, Orrinir. On the way there, Uileac idly comments on how he wonders where a waterfall comes from because he's trying to distract himself from thinking about the fact that his husband is kidnapped and possibly dead.

Cerie, being pretty wound up too, starts arguing with him about it because she's like "why is this relevant? We're kind of too busy to think about geology right now!" Uileac gets annoyed at her for being so aggro, and she gets annoyed at him for being so irreverent. Both of them are upset about something completely different, but they're too scared and panicked to actually address that, so they release their frustrations by complaining about waterfalls.

Those bad vibes have to go somewhere, but neither of them are very good at talking about their feelings (though very good at stuffing them down). As such, they take the pressure off by sniping at one another. You've probably done this too, when you get into a dumb argument about something absolutely pointless because there's something you don't feel strong enough to discuss.

There's also the fact that if you're mad at someone about something but feel it's too stupid or petty to discuss, that frustration will leak out and everything else they do will annoy you, leading to a bunch of irrelevant arguments.

Use "reaffirmation" gestures

I talked about this in a different post, but after an argument, the "make up" stage doesn't always involve going "ohhh I forgive you" and big hugs and kisses, especially when the two characters aren't emotionally mature.

Instead, Character A makes gestures that reaffirm the relationship. This could be offering to do something Character B needs, making plans for later, or changing the topic to discuss something the other character cares about ("how are your cats doing?") etc.

Note that these "reaffirmation" gestures aren't the same as the cycle of abuse. This is more when two characters have had a difficult emotional conversation but aren't really sure how to continue being emotionally open, so they revert to something safer that still shows they care. They're not over-the-top gestures either, but more a special attention to something the other person loves. Knowing what the other person loves also demonstrates the depth of their relationship.

As always, I can't tell you what to do with your writing.

You are the crafter of your own story, and if you want people to talk like therapists for whatever reason, that's your choice. However, we want characters to feel like real people, and most real people don't lay it all out on the table every single time they're upset. If they do, they might be trauma vomiting, which is icky in and of itself.

Healthy communication isn't always perfect communication. People can have strong, loving relationships and still get things wrong - we're human. Having people calmly and rationally and easily talk about their feelings every single time is not only kind of boring, but it also feels weird, because unless we're primed to discuss those difficult topics and know we're perfectly safe, we're not going to do that.

People don't even do that in therapy, where they are paying for the service of talking about their feelings! Therapists also don't always do that IRL!

We're humans, and your characters need to feel like humans as well. That means letting them be imperfect communicators and using context clues rather than making them do all the work for the reader.

If you liked my advice, consider purchasing my book, 9 Years Yearning, for $3!

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thegnomelord · 11 months

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sof and cute hcs of eldritch reader trying to learn how to people (and maybe some raunchy ones about learning how human "mating" works) hhhhnnnngggh

Imagine Learning To Be Human

CW: SFW and NSFW First TF141 with SFW, then NSFW headcannons, sexting, masturbation, sex toys, morning after (no sex), sexual nudity, nonsexual nudity, implied poly141. GN reader, 500-900 words for each blurb, so somewhere around 5.5k words. Imma be quiet for the next week or so as I prepare for an exam so I'm feeding ya'll :Dd

Imagine SOAP— It's safe to say you're not the best with expressing what you think, especially not in this hollowed out corpse a tiny fraction of your consciousness inhabits. The more you try, the less human your attempts come out, only remembering that humans don't bend that way or don't do something after you've done it. You find yourself gravitating to Soap because he is the opposite of you, so open and responsive like an open book.

Imagine; observing Soap as he tries to piece together the fragments of a bomb, muttering curses under his breath as if the object had just called football 'soccer'. He's so concentrated he forgets the rest of the world exists, oblivious to you sitting across from him. But that's not a problem as it gives you a chance to watch and try to mimic what his face does; the slight hint of teeth as he nibbles on his lip, the furrow of his brows, the tenseness of his jaw pulling on his throat muscles…

You try to mimic every emotion he goes through as he tries and fails and succeeds and fails again to fit the pieces together like a jigsaw, but the hardest one to do is that smile of his. For some reason you just can't get it right, lips pulling back too far, teeth too much on display and brows too furrowed so you end up looking like an old savage.

Then as if to spite you, Soap looks up at you and immediately snorts. "What're yea doin' there Bonnie?" He coughingly laughs as your facial features return to your statue like state.

"Trying to look like you." You huff; at least you can do that correctly.

"Oh, look strapping don't I?" He snorts, doing what Ghost calls 'fishing for compliments' (though you're unsure how one can fish for abstract ideas).

"No more than the rest." You shrug and see him roll his eyes, though the corners of his lips are still quirked up, a hint of teeth on display and vestiges of dimples framing his mouth. "How do I do that?" You ask and motion to his face.

"Do what? Smile?" You snorts, already beckoning you over like you're a dog. "It's easy."

You lean across the table, tilting your head to indicate confusion but leaving your face a blank canvas. It takes all of your presence of mind not to give an earth shattering purr when his hands cup your jaw, distant stars quivering as his blunt nails scratch at your throat for a blissful second.

"Here," His thumbs settle at both corners of your lips, putting gentle pressure until he pushes the flesh back and up in a way that's natural to the skin suit but not you. "There yea go." He grins and pulls his thumbs away after a few moments, grinning when you hold the expression.

"Now yea're as dashing as me." He chuckles and you two must look like utter buffoons just grinning at one another; you wouldn't have it any other way.

Imagine GAZ — You're not exactly alive, technically you're the antithesis to life and existence, so to you, simple rules like eating or sleeping are no more than chalk guidelines after a rainstorm. Gaz doesn't subscribe to this idea, he's always trying to get you to indulge in these human comforts and you always allow him, even if it does include eating more things in a week than most of your kin have consumed in a millennia, if that.

Imagine; wandering the halls on a lazy Sunday morning, no drills to run or missions to prep for, and being drawn to the communal kitchen by the sound of boiling water and banding pans. You find Gaz cooking breakfast for the boys; he's the only one who can cook (according to him) seeing as Price seasons his food with hope, Ghost burns everything into coal and Soap's not allowed into the kitchen after he'd tried to make tea in the microwave (which Gaz had later asked you to exorcise).

"Mornin'." Kyle yawns and smiles at you, dressed in shorts and one of your 'lost' shirts. You do your best to replicate his expression. "Help me, yeah?" He asks and nods his head at what he's cooking.

Your expression falls back to neutral. "You'll need to show me how." You admit as you get next to him.

"Not a problem," He chuckles as he shifts behind you, pressing his chest flush with your back with his hands hovering over yours. You feel his warmth when he rests his head on your shoulder, his hands firm and steady as he shows you how to chop tomatoes and sausages, how to hold the knife correctly and pulling your fingers back when the blade draws too close to the flesh, talking you through it until you can do it on your own.

After that he leaves you to your task as he almost dances around the kitchen, stirring a pot here then putting the kettle on there and so many more little things while you remain where you are because you, by nature, are slow; to adapt, to age, to change.

But you do it for him.

"Those look great." He grins when you're done and then herds you in front of the cooking pans, and you're a little apprehensive about the bubbling oil when he dumps what you'd cut up into the pan. But his warmth is at your back again, steady hands guiding you on how to cook the food without burning your skin and leaving you to it when you catch on.

Then you feel a tug on your shirt, his presence once again next to you, but this time he's holding a piece of sausage on the end of a fork, a hand beneath it so it doesn't drop, "Hey, taste this for me."

You contemplate arguing you can't actually taste food the same way he does, but he gives you a look that has you letting him feed you. Though it tastes no different from everything else, from his hand it may as well be sweeter than ambrosia.

"Tastes good." The way he brightens up at your words makes the food only taste sweeter.

Imagine GHOST —You and him are similar in some ways, you both prefer to stick to what you know, who you know. It's harder for you to contain what you are inside your flesh body when there is so much life around you that every additional heartbeat pulls at the edge of your cold existence. So you stick to close to the people who's warmth has grown so familiar it's indistinguishable from the burning starts making up your real body.

Imagine; attending a celebration held by both TF141 and Los Vaqueros after a mission gone well, loud music and lewd lyrics blaring in your ears as men drink like teenagers at their first frat party. You're in a more secluded part of the bar next to Ghost, both of you nursing drinks while you watch the rest act like fools.

You're a little confused when you see Gaz and Soap move in a strange way, grinding against one another and pressed so close you'd think they're trying to mate, their hands roaming the other's body so roughly you're surprised no pieces of clothing come flying your way.

"Got a free show for my drink." Ghost chuckles next to you.

"What are they doing?" You finally ask when you can't contain your curiosity.

"Dancing." He answers and swallows the last inch of booze in his cup, setting it down on the bar. "For fun." He adds, already expecting the line of questioning, as if that's supposed to make you understand.

"They just look like they're trying to mate." You point out, receiving a long sigh in return.

"How 'bout I just show you." Before you can say anything he nicks the cup of untouched alcohol in your hand and swallows it all down in one go, putting the empty cup next to his before grabbing you by the arm and pulling you outside through the back entrance. You go along with him, but you're confused when you catch Soap's eyes and he wolf whistles at the two of you.

The world outside is calmer than the busy bar, the air much colder; closer to what you are. You turn to him once he lets you go, tilting your head and furrowing your brow to convey confusion. "So…what do I do?"

"Just follow my lead." A gravely chuckle escapes Simon as he closes the distance between you two, his rough hands settling on your waist as he begins to slowly rock both of your bodies along with the music, though his movements are more contained than what you'd seen, a steady push and pull compelling you to follow him.

"Why is this different than what Soap and Gaz were doing?" You ask, clutching his shoulders in return, your forehead almost resting on his chest as you look at your feet so you don't step on his toes.

You feel his chest vibrate as he chuckles, "They set a low bar." He rumbles and his hand moves to your jaw, tilting your head up so you two lock eyes, the intensity in his brown irises drowning out the sounds of the bar. "Eyes on me."

You nod. Your eyes stay firmly on him as you sway together to a tune he hums, finding a common ground in the way your cold and his heat mixes together. Above you millions of your eyes peer down at him, for as vast as you are, for this moment your attention is on him.

Imagine PRICE — He can tell how tired you are, not physically but mentally; having to communicate and understand people without the use of a mental link, when even the most complex ideas can be conveyed easily, was starting to fray the edges of your control over your human body. He decided to do something about it.

Imagine; Price taking you and the boys fishing to a remote cabin next to a lake. Knowing you don't sleep he pulls you out by the lake at the ass crack of dawn, having you watch as he sits down on the dock, his pants pulled up to his knees so he can dip his feet in the water while he sets up the fishing rods.

"What are we doing?" You ask but follow his example and sit next to him, the cool water of the lake similar enough to the cold abyss your true body resides to calm your nerves, though you're unsure of what to do when he gives you the fishing rod.

"Fishing." He says as he shows you how to cast out the line. "You look like you need it."

You don't argue with him and just try focusing on fishing, letting him teach you how to watch the line to see when something takes the bait and when to reel it in. You’re unsuccessful your first few attempts, and you have half the mind to just jump in and wrangle the fish in the lake with liquid abyss, but he stops you.

"Catching isn't the point." He says as he smokes his cigar while he takes an old boot off your hook. "It's about relaxing, the fish are just a bonus."

You let out a low sound that vibrates the water, but you settle next to him and cast out the line again. You don’t know how long you sit there next to him, your sides touching with the fishing rod sitting loosely in your hands. After some time you manage to yank out your first fish, and you certainly don't gloat when you pull a few more fish out of the lake while he only pulls out seaweed, but the look of pride in his eyes makes it even better.

Any prospects of catching any more fish are dashed when Gaz and Soap wake up and take running jumps into the lake, scaring all the fish with their splashing. "Like school boys." Price remarks as Ghost comes up to you both, offering beers as he sits down on your other side.

"Summer vacation, captain." Ghost says and slips into the water, and you realize this is calming; in the way you haven't felt before, doing something familiar like watching Soap and Gaz trying to dunk each other in the water but feeling like you’re right there with them, laughing alongside them when Ghost scares the shit out of them by lunging out of the water.

“See sweetheart? ‘S not hard.” Price hums, adjusting his hat though his shoulders are already reddened from sunburns. He offers you his cigar and you accept it, breathing in the nicotine and smoke despite not having lungs or a circulatory system to be affected by it, before you give it back. “Taking it easy is good for you.”

You nod your head, content to sit next to him until something tugs on the line of your forgotten fishing rod and you scramble to reel it in. You give a small grunt as whatever is on the hook struggles, "Yank on it." Price tells you and you do, nearly toppling on your back when you finally win the tug of war. You blink as you look at what you've caught.

A Speedo.

"Well would you look at that." Price chuckles.

Judging by the way Johnny's suddenly bare assed and throwing obscenities in Gaelic your way, you assume that it's his.

“Caught a big one there.” Ghost notes, not yet laughing but his shoulders shake with silent laughter as he slaps Soap's cheeks (of his rear).

He yelps, confident enough to be naked in front of all of you, but not shameless enough to where his cheeks (on his face) don't redden from the way Gaz cackles and wheezes with laughter so loudly he nearly drowns. You give Johnny back his trunks before he can drown Gaz but, maybe you should fish any more.

NSFW:

Imagine SOAP— If anyone ever asks Soap why he would ever send a dick pick to an ancient god, he'll blame anything and everything; on being stood up, on loving himself a little less, on mixing up the numbers, in being black out drunk…

Imagine; him being stone cold sober when the thought invades his mind and he spends the next hour trying to take a good picture: in front of the mirror, on the bed, no clothes, some clothes, the list of positions goes on. He doesn't want to come across like he's compensating by just holding his dick in his hand like some cunt; as silly as it is, he wants the picture to actually tempt you, to make you feel something, though the question of if you even can doesn't cross his mind. He ends up with a picture of him on the bed, the tip of his hard cock peeking out from beneath the band of his boxers.

He won’t admit he holds his breath when he sends the suggestive picture to you alongside a ;) , watching the text bubble appear and disappear multiple times before you just leave him on seen. He deflates and has half the mind to delete the picture and chuck his phone to the other end of his bed but he’s stopped when he gets a message from Price.

‘My office. Now.’

Turns out you were with Price when you saw that photo and without a second thought had shown him it and asked what it meant. Granted Price had seen more than just his dick, but he was less than happy about Johnny sending you unsolicited dick pics.

You quiz Soap for nearly an hour, stone faced and unbothered while he gets redder with every question (what can you send, what not to send, how much to send, etc.) and he gets the impression that's how his ma' felt when she gave him and his sisters 'the talk'. “So, yeah.” He clears his throat, whole face feeling hot. “Don’t do it ‘lest yea’r asked or yea like ‘em.”

Thankfully Price finally lets you go when you’re satisfied with his answers and Soap can’t scamper fast enough out of his office with his whole face in flames.

He deletes the photo soon after but you've already burned it into your memory where it will outlast the stars, and the idea to reciprocate festers in your ageless mind like rot until you find yourself in front of your mirror after a shower. You play with the phone for a long time, snapping a few blurry close up shots of your face while you attempt to change it from the front to the back facing camera.

It takes even longer to figure out what to send as Soap wasn't that clear with his answers. Your siblings give you pointers, and first you attempt to take a picture of your most private part — bones snap as your rib cage splits open into a maw, vines full of eyes wrapping around your ribs like ivy as tendrils of darkness unwind just enough for the anti-light of your very essence sucks up all the light in the room — but the mirror cracks and your phone just shuts off with a pitiful whimper.

After fixing the mirror you end up doing what you do best; you mimic one of the statues you'd seen the Greeks make, the towel wrapped just along the V where your thighs connect to your pelvis, exposed from the waist up with your skin still wet. Your body isn't as demure as the muses that sculptor had used, but you hope Soap will appreciate it as you snap a few more photos and send them to Johnny with the same ;) he'd sent you.

Soap nearly chokes on his spit when he gets the photo, all the blood in his brain flooding south as his eyes rake over every exposed inch of skin, every curve and every dip in the muscles making him drool and cock harden and he's racing to your room before you even have the time to turn your phone off.

Imagine GAZ — For all of your pitfalls and misunderstandings he likes the little hints of inhumanity in your speech, in your mannerisms, in knowing you could be anywhere and anytime but you choose to be next to him. He couldn't imagine himself being enamored with an ant, yet you hang on his every word like he's revealing secrets you don't know, making him feel special; he feels so bad when his thoughts of you stop being innocent.

Imagine; He tries to keep things respectful, but his imagination runs wild when you do the simplest things. Bend down to tie your shoe? He's checking out your arse from the corner of his eyes. Stand behind him? He's suppressing a shiver just imagining your body draped over his in post-coital bliss. Check his skin for injuries? Gaz has to bite his lip to keep from begging you to touch all of him, to explore his body. Work out? Kyle's lucky if he doesn't start drooling imagining going over and licking the sweat off your skin, of feeling your muscles tense beneath his tongue while you continue to work out with him between your legs.

When he can't think of you without popping a boner he ends up having to compromise before the shame eats him whole. He goes on a random porn site; he usually prefers just using his imagination but when his mind keeps circling back to you he has no other option, and his conscience gnaws on him when he ends up finding a porn star with similar features to yours. It's not wrong if he's wanking off to a different person, right?

Heat's already burning in his stomach when he slouches in his chair, his back to his room and one earbud in his ear. Shame continues to eat at him when he's both delighted and disheartened by the fact the porn star sounds nothing like you, that his bones don't shiver like they do when you talk.

He keeps the volume low and instead focuses on rubbing and squeezing his cock the way the porn star does to a second actor, and he can't help imagining what you'd sound like; high pitched and whiny? Husky and low? Completely silent or animalistic? The idea of pulling sounds of pleasure out of your throat has him leaking. His head lolls back and he moans as he squeezes the base of his cock, his eyes open just enough to blur the fine details on the porn star's face so you two become indistinguishable.

His heart stops when you burst through his door, a random question leaving your lips before your ears pick up the moans and slick sounds coming from his direction. You're next to him in an instant, looming over his chair and caging him in with your eyes stuck to the screen. "What are you watching?"

"Get out!" He yelps and tries to push you away but it's like trying to move a mountain.

"Why does that human look like my vessel?" You persist, "And why are you watching humans mating when you told me it's wrong?" You tilt your head, luckily not seeing his hand on his hard cock, the porn reflecting in the blacks of your eyes.

“It’s on the net it’s different! People upload it for others' pleasure and-” He sputters and cuts himself off when he registers your words, freezing in place and that accidentally gets him to squeeze the head of his cock.

Your pupils widen like a cat’s when you hear the little moan escape his chest, your head automatically dropping down to see where his other hand is. "Oh,” is what comes out of your mouth when you see his hard weeping cock. “Can I?” You ask, making an odd motion with your head.

He thinks you're asking to leave and nods. "Yeah-" Gaz wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole, his cheeks burning red like he's a lobster in a pot. “-can you pl-please leave-”

He wheezes when your cold hand suddenly wraps around his cock, your hold firm and just at the edge of pain but still making him throb. A few more eyes spread across your skin to see him while you watch the video still playing on his computer, giving his cock a small pump and shaking the stars with your purr when he moans.

"What are-" He neck nearly snaps to look at you, a shiver raking his body and another moan escaping him as you squeeze the head of his cock, your skin like ice yet it makes him burn with arousal.

"Watch." You order and turn his head with your free hand so his eyes are back on the screen. You don't know why he's watching a fake 'you' mate when he could just ask you, but you know one thing; the person on the screen is competition, and by the way you roughly stroke his cock until he's whining and leaking like a tap, Gaz can tell— you don't like competition.

Imagine PRICE — He never imagined he'd need to have 'the talk' with a god; sure, you may understand how sex works, but you're hopeless in understanding the nuances of it all. If someone doesn't directly say 'let's fuck' you assume any touches from them, even groping, is just them being friendly. It makes his blood boil, seeing you be taken advantage of like that.

Imagine; You're in the bar with the boys and Price is a couple of drinks in when he sees being felt up by a stranger and you're oblivious to his advances. A green eyed monster nips at Price's heels and he doesn't notice when he puts himself next to you, 'accidentally' shoving the other guy back with just his bulk. His presence, his demeanor, and the few harsh words spoken in a clipped tone has the other guy scampering off.

He doesn't remember much after that, only the way you'd looked at him — with the intensity of a ravenous void, like he was a bright star you wanted to devour.

What wakes him isn't his clock, but the rays of sunlight gently streaming through the curtains. He groans as he registers the awful ache behind his eyes before he even has a chance to open them. He feels his bed shift and his eyes snap open automatically, he nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees you laying on your side as you stare at him.

"Jesus!" He jumps up, nearly topples over from the sudden vertigo but your steady hand on his shoulder keeps him upright, making him realize he's nude.

"He's not here." You shrug and as you sit up his sheets pool around your waist, making him realize you're naked from the waist up, though he doesn't want to think if you're naked naked. His fists clench when his eyes roam over your exposed body against his will, settling on the various hickeys decorating your shoulders and neck.

His heart sinks. "What…what happened last night?" He asks and doesn't want to know the answer, his stomach churns with shame.

"Oh, uh, you got drunk, I got you home, you started kissing and biting me." You say, tracing the numerous hickeys and indents of his teeth across your human form like they're medals. "Then you pulled me into your bed and wouldn't let me go. Then you passed out." You say as if nothing's wrong, and even if no sex happened it's little consolidation to the fact he took advantage of you.

“Why didn’t you stop me?” He asks as he takes a shaky breath, shoulders hunched up around his ears and eyes downcast, bile burning in his stomach.

"Why would I?" You tilt your head and shift positions to face him fully, the sheets falling away to reveal you are naked naked. "I may not understand you fully, but I would have stopped you if you did something I didn't want."

Price hates himself for how he can't tear his eyes away from your body. "But you let me." He insists and tries to get you to see reason, to be as angry and disgusted with him as he is with himself.

“Yes.” You are growing annoyed as well, silently cursing the frailty of the human mind; things would be easier to explain if you could just use mental communication… “You are less than insects to my kin.” You sigh and move to straddle him before he can get away, pinning him under you. “You are a sun to me.”

Even calling him a sun doesn’t do him justice; suns die out like firecrackers when your immeasurable body passes over them, when you devour them, him, you want to keep, to protect, to wrap in your cold abyss until he’s warm and safe.

He sucks in a breath, the gears in his head turning as he tries to understand. “What?-”

“Can I touch you?” You ask, your hands respectfully on your thighs as if you’re not pinning him in place with your weight. There’s a dark intelligence in your eyes, the same ravenous void staring at him behind the black of your eyes. You are not a child, you are a god.

"Why?" He sucks in a sharp breath as he breathes in your smell, the scent of dying stars and burn ozone tickling his lungs. "You don't have to." He says weakly, because what would anyone, god or not, want with him?

"You left marks on me, I want to do the same." The way you say it makes him think of godhood; not the bleak madness you are, but the type humanity romanticizes. Your lips part as if you're thinking of marking him, bits of oblivion staring back at him from the darkness of your throat when he looks too closely at your mouth.

He submits so fast. "C'mere then," He pulls you close by your head, kissing you like he's trying to steal your ichor, his body burning hot when your hands grip him tight enough to leave moon shaped bruises in his skin — the first of many you intend to give him, until you've marked him as yours and yours alone.

Imagine GHOST — Ghost prefers to show you rather than spend hours trying to explain things to you, he's more stricter with you when you try to do things you're told not to, both for your and everyone's safety. You never do quite learn.

Imagine; Ghost recently confiscated your phone when you tried to see what humans thought about you, or what they imagined you and your kin to be, on a website called 'Rule34'. Ghost had snatched the phone out of your hands before you could even click the link. After a week he gave you the go ahead to take it back, but got called to run a drill so just said to go find it.

Now, you've been told not to go rooting around other people's belongings, but while searching for your phone you'd fallen back into your old habit and snooped around until you found a small box in the bottom of his dresser. Thinking nothing of it you opened it and found…something. A lot of somethings; handcuffs, rope, weird egg shaped thing, a weird tube with a hole in it that squished like a stress toy but had a cunt molded at one end, but what drew your attention — was the dismembered black cock in the middle of the box.

You and all of your kin scratched your collective heads over the thing you now held in your hand, you'd been under the impression humans didn't carry around body parts anymore so you were stumped why Ghost had a dismembered dick and balls in his dresser. Besides the pitch black color and flat base it looked so realistic and the way it flopped when you turned it in your hand made you feel the same way humans did when seeing you.

So you got up and wen to ask Ghost about it, the thing held out in your hand when you found him with the rest of the boys. "Ghost, why do you a have body part in your closet?"

Your question made them all turn to look at you, Ghost made a strange sound like a strangled dog while Gaz and Soap fell over laughing and Price shielded his eyes with the rim of his hat.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell.” He snarls and before you know it he’s stomping over to you and dragging you by the front of your clothes, “What I tell you about snooping?”

“I couldn’t find my phone,” You try to argue but don’t struggle and just let him drag you somewhere like you're a kitten until you find yourself in his room with the door firmly locked behind him.

"Right." His tone makes it sound like he doesn't believe you, his rough hand pushes you down on his bed and he yanks the thing from your hold. “You want to know what this is for?” He asks and holds the the cock with the head pointed at you like a knife.

You nod your head and try to rise up but he pushes you back down, you're not even sure where he gets the handcuffs from but there's cold steel around your wrists before you can notice it. It's his order to "Sit and watch." that actually keeps you down, and you see the corners of his eyes shift to denote a smirk. "Do what you're good at."

You don't blink as you watch him disrobe until he's only wearing his mask, and your surprise is obvious when he sticks the thing on the floor and it stays up right. "This," He growls and sinks to his knees on the floor, a towel under him, "Is a fuckin' dildo." He reaches over and takes a small tube, squirting viscous liquid on his fingers. "You don't ever take it out of my room. Got it."

He leaves no room to argue and you rapidly nod your head. You find yourself breathless as you watch him reach behind himself and you don’t even notice how a bit of your oblivion leaks from your pores and spreads across the ground like spiderwebs, eyes blooming in the small pools all around him so you can see the way he roughly pushes a finger into himself, your hands clenching as his rim flutters around his large fingers.

"What is it for?" You find your voice, the sound ringing like the inside of a dead star the longer you watch him roughly stretch himself, pushing two then three fingers into his ass.

"Fun," He chuckles and feels so powerful when your eyes have all but turned black with hunger you've yet to notice. "It's a toy, for adults." He pulls his fingers out and squirts more liquid on the dildo, before sinking down on the toy in one fluid move that leaves him hissing at the stretch, his rim fluttering around the thick base.

Something about the way the toy is of a similar color to your real body has you wriggling beneath your human skin, the air vibrating as you groan and try to reach out to him, wanting to cover him in your body and have all of him feel all of you.

"No." Just one word has you sitting back on the bed like a dog, a pitiful sound rumbling across the void as you can do nothing but watch. "This is what you get for snooping." He's so smug with the way he has such control over you without even touching you, his thick thighs tensing as he slowly bounces on the dildo, "Now watch. Maybe if you're good I'll let you touch me."

You'll do whatever he says so long as you get to feel him.

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karlachismylife · 7 days

Text

A Spot of Lunch || The Queen of the Clan pt.4

CW: fem!chubby!reader, stalking, animal aggression (no violence)

Paranoia wasn't something you have ever associated with the vast grassy planes of sunlit savanna. An unsettling feeling of being constantly watched, followed, stalked seemed more suitable for the claustrophobic confines of a big city with its tall concrete walls and sleepless eyes of neon signs and late night windows peering blindly into the darkness - or maybe even a cold, isolated cabin among winter woods, with howling wind and creaking floorboards eerily masking the steps of whatever was looking through the frosty glass planes from the other side.

An open space full of busy with their own survival wildlife and sun burning every little patch of shadow anyone could hide in never crossed your mind as a place for a worry of unwanted following.

And yet you felt it.

You've learnt to distinguish this creepy sensation of being watched by something from the constant presense of your crew's cameras and curious looks of the animals. Even coming face to face (from afar, obviously) with the lion pride that was your main target for the documentary and attracting their attention left a different aftertaste - sure, you did feel like prey looking into the big eyes, adorned with a nature-given eyeliner, twinkling predatorily at you from the muzzle of a huge feline partially covered by the tall grass, but it still was just an animal watching you and gauging if you and your weird pack of two-legged companions were a better dinner option than an antilope.

What watched your back when you were sorting through your footage in camp or unloading the rover for another static filming, didn't feel like an animal.

"Well, we didn't even have that much visitors in camp for the last few days, so I'd say we're pretty safe," Kir, the shoulder you're used to rely on at this point, listens to your concerns carefully as he accepts heavy equipment from your arms - you reached a suitable place to have some food, so a temporary camp is being prepared. "Besides, we're always staying together out here, right? I'll look after you for now. Let's see if you still feel this shadow of yours when we get back to homebase, and then we'll look for a solution again. Maybe it's just the savanna getting to you, city cookie."

You scoff and roll your eyes at him, but his reassurance helps shake the unpleasant feeling from your scruff a bit - Kir has a point, the crew is being careful about animals and it's not like there are any other humans in these parts nearby, so you'll probably be alright. Definitely feels nice to have someone who doesn't simply dismiss your concerns and is ready to take more precautions if the initial ones fail to work.

"Maybe it's a heatstroke or something," you mutter awkwardly, now almost ashamed of how serious you make it all sound when no one else is having such problems. Kir immediately turns around, a big duffelbag on his shoulder, skin glistening with sweat, and gives you a disapproving look.

"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that. This isn't a hike outside your hometown, every concern you have is worth looking into. Better be overcautious than become someone's dinner, especially when you're already a total snack," finally having gotten you to smile, he winks and hurries to the main camp. When you reach the others to set up your lunch break, a hat lands on your head - you lift your eyes, almost covered by it, and of course, it's still Kir, wiping his forehead with a smile. "No heatstroke for you, cookie. Go have some water."

The hat is a bit sweaty on the inside, but it keeps the sun away better than the scarf you couldn't tie properly this morning.

As you all sit around in the shadow created by a lone acacia and chew on your not so bad meals - apparently, veteran participants of these trips have experience not only in getting close to animals unnoticed or navigating vehicles through uneven sandy terrain, but also in making quite the unappealing looking canned food taste good - quiet human chatter mixes together with the birds calling each other out and little chirping mice sneaking around your camp in timid curiosity. A fit of laughter bursts here and there. Your worry melts into nothingness in the heat, you feel safe as you look at your crew.

These people are doing what they love, and you notice that the dull apathy that was eating at you to the point of taking a break in your studies slowly steps away. Surprisingly, your impulsive idea turned out to be not so bad - maybe you'll take additional courses when you return, to be able to move here, work at the sanctuary, watch-

"Psst, look," a gentle nudge makes you stop digging into the little bowl you have with your mighty fancy teal spork (your 100% recycled plastic pride and joy), and you look up to where Kir points with his chin and puckered lips. "Even I recognize that snout already."

So do you, of course.

A wide, happily grinning, sniffing vigorously at the direction of your temporary camp, round-eared snout with a thick mohawk of a lush mane.

"Finally brought a friend," chuckles Kir next to you - and he's right, shoulder to shoulder with your old pal Stinky stands another hyena, spotted so generously that its fur seems almost brown, as does its shorter, but even thicker than Stinky's mane. Pure elegance shines through the stance of its long legs and the whole form, especially compared to its bulky mate.

And there they are - the most enchanting, heart-stealing, soul-charming dark eyes you've ever seen an animal have.

"Shit," you nearly choke on the corn you forgot you had in your mouth before swallowing anxiously, and try to muffle your coughing, afraid it might scare the animals away; but instead they only tilt their heads in an adorable way and watch as you scramble to shove your food bowl into Kir's hands and grab your camera.

It takes you less than two minutes to sneak to your bag (not the one that was sprayed - that one is banished to lay alone next to a rover far, far away from where you eat, God) and grab the camera, but when you turn back, both hyenas seem to have lost all interest in you and your camp, rolling around together in the patchy grass and partaking in a ritualistic play.

Subtle breaths of warm wind bring over quiet growls and occasional sassy cackles from the scuffle, nips and paw slaps exchanged in equal amounts. The sight is nothing short of adorable: two members of one of the most dangerous species on Earth tossing each other around like playful cubs, almost as if they're fighting over-

"Hey, look, they've got something!" One of the other camera operators points out gleefully with her spoon and you close one eye, focusing your camera on the pair. They definitely are fighting over some scrap, and just as you zoom in on their scowling mouths, Stinky jumps to its feet, yanking something that looks like a piece of hide in attempt to wrestle their toy from the other one's maw. "Hey, can you see what it's about?"

You hum, squinting as you meddle with the settings - it's quite hard to make out what it is, some brown-ish rug, stretching between two pairs of powerful jaws, clenched and pulling in a simple game of tug-of-war. Just as you take a series of quick shots, that dark, lean hyena also gets up and twists its neck, trying to snatch that thing from his broader mate - and it rips.

In your lense you see loose strings hanging from the ripped edges of the torn toy.

"Huh, looks like a piece of cloth!" Curious, you zoom in some more, taking several fine portrait pictures of Stinky's big, displeased-looking snout. Its ears flatten a bit as it shakes its head, sand flying off the fluffy mane and landing on the dark hide of its buddy. The latter seems to be much more content with the end result of the playfight, already lying back on the warm ground comfortably, long frong legs crossed in an effortlessly graceful way and half of the desired prise being chewed enthusiastically before it's dropped with a yawn. "Maybe someone lost a scarf? No pattern though..."

You point your camera at the unbelievably stunning dark-furred hyena and take more photos, almost holding your breath at the beauty of the animal resting on the dusty ground. Its slightly lazy gaze slowly trails over the surroundings and then lands on you.

And then, you swear, it winks at you.

You press the button on your camera automatically, capturing this moment for you to stare at later, when you'll start doubting your own sanity. A lopsided smirk stays on the hyena's muzzle for a second longer - and then it's gone.

"What the hell..." you mutter under your nose, lowering your camera with a dumbfounded look and stare at the embodiment of innocence the cheeky fluffball is now. Almost as if they both heard you, Stinky perks up too, and you finally notice that whatever they were playing with is now hanging off its pleased snout shoved through a neat round opening in the material. So it's definitely something man-made. A shirt that's been shredded by predators' teeth until only the collar or a short sleeve remained?..

You shudder at the thought about how the hyenas got their sock-clad paws on the thing and what happened to the owner. Maybe it's just been discarded after researchers used it to wrap a hyena's head when they darted and collared one of them. Or it just fell out of someone's backpack on the bumpy road. Or...

A loud whoop interrupts your heavy thoughts and your eyes snap back to the furry menace, only to find it clearly posing for you, slumped over its pal's back and resting its chin between the other's fluttering ears. Surprisingly, the darker - maybe you'll call it Chocolate, it seems almost toothrottingly sweet from afar - hyena doesn't seem to mind much, waving its tail with a black brush on end languidly and laying still until you take a few pictures. Even though the rag Stinky can't seem to let go clearly gets in its eyes no matter how many times it tries to brush it away with an endearing ear movement.

Of course Stinky just drops its toy altogether on Chocolate's head the second something else attracts its attention - the way it perks up and loses that trickster grin, looking directly behind you, startles you, but almost twisting your neck to look over your shoulder proves futile. It's just Kir.

"Sorry to ruin your fun, cookie, but we'll have to get moving in a few, thought you'd want to finish your meal," he sighs with an apologetic smile, clearly not immune to the cuteness of the hyenas himself, and hands you your bowl, immedietely earning a growl.

A growl much closer than you'd expect from where your visitors stayed.

You jump, nearly dropping both your camera and food, and quickly turn back to see both hyenas, tails and manes belligerently fluffed up, just a few meters away. Kir steps in front of you immediately, shielding from the animals, but it seems only to aggravate them more.

Maybe it's not the brightest idea you get, but your adrenaline-high brain offers you a memory of Stinky obeying when you raised your voice at it.

"Stay down you two! Shoo! Get back!" Leaning around Kir's muscular shoulder, you wave with your spork at the unfriendly couple.

Somehow, it works.

They almost look upset, tails slowly hanging down and ears lowered - they even lean their whole bodies to the ground as they back away. Stinky is clearly more reluctant, and you would be melting at the sight if your heart wasn't still racing after the scare.

"You get back too, Stinky. Or I'll sign every picture of you with your nickname in all the wildlife magazines!" Perhaps it's your tone making the animals nervous, but Chocolate suddenly lets out a short giggle. Still feels nice to have someone appreciate your humor, especially when it earns him a nip at the scruff from Stinky, finally distracting him from you. "And you don't laugh at Stinky! What, you think there won't be enough of me for the both of you? I'll make fun of every fucking four-legged menace if you keep growling like that!"

An barely started new scuffle between the two stops abruptly, two pairs of huge wet eyes looking at you with almost human perspicacity. Remembering too late that a direct stare can provoke an animal, you avert your gaze, but it's unnecessary: even from the corner of your eye you see both hunched figures slowly gaining speed as they further away from the camp.

"What, you a hyena whisperer now?" Kir lets out a subtle relieved breath and you par his back gratefully, exhaling yourself. "Probably got scared of me because of my size... well, now that's you've proven your dominance, how about you finish your food? I'll pack everything for you, so don't rush."

Still glancing over your shoulder in case the predators come back, you mutter your thanks to Kir and nod at the other members of the crew who praise you for keeping your cool against the animals again.

"Didn't know they teach you that in school nowadays," jokes one of the older scientists with some canned food juice staining grey stubble around the corners of his mouth. "Good job, kid. Hyenas are all about hierarchy, if you show them you're more dominant, there's little they can do. Just maybe don't get into actual fights with them, you know?"

"Not planning to," you chuckle and finally get back to your food. While you chew absentmindedly, wandering around the camp being taken down, your legs bring you to where your slightly rough (and fluffy too, to be fair) around the edges neighbours left their tattered toy.

Just a weird shaped brown cloth, punctured in several places with the deadly weapon hyenas carry in their mouths and with clearly manufactured seams. That round hole Stinky utilized also has neatly finished edge, like clothing would have.

Huh. Weird. Somehow that chewed up and slobbered snippet looks familiar. Can't really quite put your finger on it though.

Part 3 | Part 3.5 | Part 5

Series masterlist | Main masterlist

A/N: Please, don't use any of this story as a guide to handling any animals, wild or not. Although I try to use real documentaries and stories of hyena whisperers as a reference to how hyena-human interactions can look like, it's still fiction. Use actual guidelines provided by authorities as to how to behave in contact with stranger animals.

Tagging:@elaineiswithyou-blog @creepingeva @my-halo-is-a-little-broken @sillymanjaro @ihatethinkingofnames10 @ravensfeatheruniverse @yaminax @ljh861 @darkangel4121 @ginger-n-coco @grey-shadow6475 @cryingpages @mothsdrabbles @mc-glare-is-king @vixxie22 @aldis-nuts

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radiance1 · 1 year

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An off-shoot to an off-shoot!

Danny left the human world for the Ghost Zone, as the Crown Prince he has quite a lot of responsibilities, much more than he would like in all honesty.

He barely even knew there was a high society of the Ghost Zone, some of which he has met and others he's just questioning the existence of.

He was already tired of the amount of marriage proposals he was sent and had to sort through, and there was still 3 more mountains to go!

He was honestly looking forward to the calls from his two best friends when he was finally able to get a break from his duties as prince. Never has the sound of his friends' voices felt oh so sweet.

Sometimes he visits Sam when he managed to convince Pariah, or when there just wasn't any work to be done. He tried to visit Tucker too but, when he tried to leave Amity Park he just... couldn't???

There was something just, stopping him. He couldn't leave, like some kind of barrier that prevented from moving even smidge past the line.

He just left it be.

He heard about Tucker being a villain and decided he wanted in. But since he couldn't leave the boundary of Amity Park for whatever reason, he needed Tucker to plant a series of tidbits of knowledge that'll allow people to summon him.

Tucker very obviously agreed.

But they decided to have a bit of fun here. Tucker- who now goes by Daedalus as his villain name- has history with the Ghost Prince, who is the 'hero' to Daedalus' villain.

Daedalus does not like Phantom and constantly tries to neutralize him, which is a far cry from his usual non-lethal tactics. While Phantom, on the other hand, considers Daedalus to be his best friend and closest consort and often ignores said attempts of neutralization or plays it off.

So Tucker left behind bits and pieces of the knowledge to summon the Ghost Prince in random parts of the city, which are discreetly yet highly guarded. Then overtime certain people began to find those bits and pieces and Daedalus, in regard to such an event has notably gotten more panicky and worried.

With each and every sighting he's in he seemed to be searching for something and used the chaos he brought to search for it. To which the heroes have been taking notice of.

They think that he was searching for something to use for his next plan or something.

Then the Justice League got word of a group of cultists looking to summon the Ghost Prince to take over the mortal world, which they obviously couldn't let happen. So then they locate and find the group of cultists (and as usual in these ideas) they fail to stop the summoning in time.

But as the summoning circle was shinning and the room got colder, someone unexpected showed up.

Daedalus. (Imagen he's in the floaty chair thing that Eggman uses constantly)

Who, surprisingly. Is just a 16 year old. (This takes place in the second year of Sam's little isolation thing.)

Who then proceeded to get irritated and screamed at the cultists about how they managed to find the necessary components to summon that he specifically split into pieces to avoid this situation happening!

Then the Ghost Prince pops into existence, who then calmly looked around the room and then into the sky, his indifferent, cold expression faded away into a bright beaming expression and then went:

"Daedalus! My best buddy!"

And then had to dodge a blast from said villain. Then they proceeded to have a battle, quite- no, very lethal on Daedalus' part and not so much on the Ghost Prince's part.

It was... reminiscent of a dog and cat, really.

Until in the midst of said fight Phantom exclaimed his woes about the Ghost responsibilities and then Daedalus just kinda, stopped trying to kill him and then made Danny explain what problem he has and then gave him the solution to said problem and goes back to fighting.

The Justice League feels like they should intervene here, but they also don't know if they should.

Said problem was solved by Daedalus getting hungry and proposing to stop the fight to go and eat at a food place he knows that's very good. Phantom agrees, claiming that he hasn't had human food in ages and then they go and eat and forget about the Justice League.

Who then questioned why the Prince of Ghosts and the villain that a few of them has been fighting are literal children.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #danny phantom #ghost prince danny #tucker foley #justice league

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beatingtheouijaboardallegations · 4 months

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forever tired of our voices being turned into commodity.

forever tired of thorough medaocrity in the AAC business. how that is rewarded. How it fails us as users. how not robust and only robust by small small amount communication systems always chosen by speech therapists and funded by insurance.

forever tired of profit over people.

forever tired of how companies collect data on every word we’ve ever said and sell to people.

forever tired of paying to communicate. of how uninsured disabled people just don’t get a voice many of the time. or have to rely on how AAC is brought into classrooms — which usually is managed to do in every possible wrong way.

forever tired of the branding and rebranding of how we communicate. Of this being amazing revealation over and over that nonspeakers are “in there” and should be able to say things. of how every single time this revelation comes with pre condition of leaving the rest behind, who can’t spell or type their way out of the cage of ableist oppression. or are not given chance & resources to. Of the branding being seen as revolution so many times and of these companies & practitioners making money off this “revolution.” of immersion weeks and CRP trainings that are thousands of dollars and wildly overpriced letterboards, and of that one nightmare Facebook group g-d damm it. How this all is put in language of communication freedom. 26 letters is infinite possibilities they say - but only for the richest of families and disabled people. The rest of us will have to live with fewer possibilities.

forever tired of engineer dads of AAC users who think they can revolutionize whole field of AAC with new terrible designed apps that you can’t say anything with them. of minimally useful AI features that invade every AAC app to cash in on the new moment and not as tool that if used ethically could actually help us, but as way of fixing our grammar our language our cultural syntax we built up to sound “proper” to sound normal. for a machine, a large language model to model a small language for us, turn our inhuman voices human enough.

forever tired of how that brand and marketing is never for us, never for the people who actually use it to communicate. it is always for everyone around us, our parents and teachers paras and SLPs and BCBAs and practitioners and doctors and everyone except the person who ends up stuck stuck with a bad organized bad implemented bad taught profit motivated way to talk. of it being called behavior problems low ability incompetence noncompliance when we don’t use these systems.

you all need to do better. We need to democritize our communication, put it in our own hands. (My friend & communication partner who was in Occupy Wall Street suggested phrase “Occupy AAC” and think that is perfect.) And not talking about badly made non-robust open source apps either. Yes a robust system needs money and recources to make it well. One person or community alone cannot turn a robotic voice into a human one. But our human voice should not be in hands of companies at all.

(this is about the Tobii Dynavox subscription thing. But also exploitive and capitalism practices and just lazy practices in AAC world overall. Both in high tech “ mainstream “ AAC and methods that are like ones I use in sense that are both super stigmatized and also super branded and marketed, Like RPM and S2C and spellers method. )

#I am not a product #you do not have to make a “spellers IPA beer ‘ about it I promise #communication liberation does not have a logo #AAC #capitalism #disability #nonspeaking #dd stuff #ouija talks #ouija rants

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queenendless · 4 months

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CRIMSON

A/n: I legit don't know how to title this piece. Inspired by @xo-romiiarts and their artwork.

Also Guns for Hire by Woodkid fits this piece so listen to it while reading this or any song that gives dark!GoGe vibes.

CW ⚠️ : 4.7k worded piece with DARK MATURE themes/depictions of murder/genocide, teen dropouts/runaways, angst, hurt/comfort, romance/fluff, already established poly!teen!GoGe x fem!teen!curse seer!reader, set in an AU where the guys did go through with it ... you have been warned. ⚠️

Cause #261 and fanarts of Gojo saying yes to Geto have given me the push to finally get this out. I have been working on this since September of LAST YEAR SO I hope yall enjoy this.

And I'm working on a pt 2 to this set a few months to a year later of the aftermath. Cause Lord, Clan Head Gojo x Cult Leader Geto x Reader but they're dark now kinda I wanna explore in my own way. With them kids. Their kids. And scene.

*DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, COPY, EDIT, PLAGARIZE, AND OR STEAL MY FANFIC WORK. Rather if you enjoy my fan work, then reblog, like, comment, n follow pls n thnx u.

"You're late, Suguru."

Indeed he was.

"No … I guess you got here fast. There are several Star Religious Group facilities in the city, after all."

Something felt seriously off the moment the snowy-haired sorcerer raised his head.

"Satoru? Is that you?"

The look in his eyes … practically radiating their potent rebirth … a stark contrast to the fading scuffs of blood running down the left half of his face, down both sides of his mouth, weariness evident.

"What happened?"

This was not his Satoru. This one … had seen hell first hand. In a twisted way, they both have today. Literally at death's door.

"I see you already saw Shoko."

"Yeah, she healed me. I'm fine now."

And yet, a long sleeved uniform arm slipped out from under the sheet, swaying a bit til staying still as a lifeless corpse would be.

"No … me being safe doesn't help anything here."

Not when he failed to keep their promise to Riko-chan. She was ready to walk away from the merger with him. Choosing to live for herself rather than follow her pre-chosen fate. Yet, fate had other plans. A cruel one, at that.

"I screwed up. You're not at fault." Gojo sounded so blunt, so calm … willing to accept all the blame for their greatest failure yet.

"Let's head back."

An eerie ringing began penetrating Geto's hearing as the clapping kept going. He chalked that up as an explanation as to why he thought he misheard Gojo's next words.

"Suguru, should we kill these guys? The way I feel right now, I doubt I'd feel anything about it."

As the form of Gojo carrying Amanai's draped body was being overshadowed by the pure white radiance of the smiling clapping cultists, Geto's morality dilemma prodded his mind, unable to meet Gojo's gaze.

"No. There's no point. It looks like there are only common believers here. The masterminds who know about our world have probably fled already. And unlike with the bounty, they won't be able to talk their way out of this. The organization had problems to begin with. It'll be dissolved soon enough."

Geto, standing in the pure white room of morality, starkly contrasted Gojo as he brushed past him and stood in the crimson room of immorality.

"No point, huh? Does there really need to be any point to it?"

Does there need to be a rhyme or reason for them to act on this? Ideally yes. They may be above the laws in most cases, but even sorcerers can't enact vengeance on regular humans. Unless they were curse users or even like the Sorcerer Killer, they couldn't lay a hand on them.

Realistically?

Right now?

The clapping grew louder, mocking him. Antagonizing him.

Gleefully celebrating her death and their own damaged, traumatizing failure.

Geto's left hand curled into a fist.

His morals were conflicting with his personal feelings; his fist shaking in restrained emotion.

His almond eyes, weariness tainting his eyebags, finally looked up.

Out at the clapping, smiling crowd.

"It's very important that there is. Especially for a jujutsu sorcerer."

Even the cruelest scum of the Earth get away scot free, never facing retribution. Darkness grew underneath him, outstretched to reach their seemingly untouchable light, as his fractured moral code made way for his true inner self to finally show its true colors.

"But not us …"

Gojo stiffened. Slightly looking back over his shoulder, peering inside the open doorway, his radiating Six Eyes turned on at the darkened gaze of Geto's eyes slightly looking back in return.

"Not today."

Rage and distraught guides him.

He would right this wrong.

To the bloody damn end.

Now triggered by those firm, final words, Gojo's heightened state strengthened as he set Amanai's body down gently on the hallway floor, the anger he didn't feel on her behalf in his rematch against the fallen Zen'in man was finally making its appearance, intertwining with an unhinged drive for chaos in his blood as a twisted gleam overtook his lips.

Survival of the weakest. Discouragement of the strong. That's how society should be; one where jujutsu sorcerers protect non-sorcerers. That's what he always strived to uphold despite his inner demons. But now… they as sorcerers still failed in the end.

Riko-chan, Kuroi-san, the weak but good ones, now dead by the orchestration of these unforgivable heinous —

"Monkeys." Having seen that monkey assassin's standing corpse himself on his way inside; decimated and dripping with bloodied spilled guts, made Geto wish he could deal the killing blow himself back in Tengen's domain.

This would have to do, feeling ready to puke when he uttered the same word as that scarred mouthed bastard, wincing as the shadowed hole he summoned released his newest curse.

The same cursed worm draped over his shoulder, opening its mouth to pop out the handle of a cursed tool, one Geto pulled out as swiftly as Gojo began ascending to heights unbound, slicing the cursed energized blade through the air as tears sprung from his unforgiving dark eyes.

"DIE!"

Those monkeys' glee changed to confusion then bursting out in waves of panic as the blade grew in length the more Geto spread his cursed energy into it.

Several heads got sliced sideways, splattering blood over some's prime white apparel, kicking off the shrill hysterics.

In an instant, Gojo blips out of sight only to plow through a row of them scurrying ants in his way like the cursed speedster he had become.

Blown off head chunks.

Fists jutted right through their torsos right and outta their spines.

Setting off carnage filled piñatas left and right.

Trained on every weakling in his sight, Gojo's uniform grew darker as more blood seeped further in with each blow.

Reappearing as he grabbed a randomly chosen neck, snapping it in two with ease, before blocking a panicking one that tried socking him from behind, glowing eyes narrowed in as he clenched their fist before ripping their arm right off with swift ease. Their tortured screech is heard one moment, the sound of bones crunching in Gojo's other hand the next.

Through hatred fueled adrenaline, Geto cleaved in them guts to match the mutilated limbs that rolled across the crimson spreaded floor.

Those attempting to flee were squandered as the force field of Limitless smooshed them, splattering the now cracked dented walls; minced red.

Many more sunken noggins soared in the air, sprinkling red from on high.

Screams and splatters became the symphony of Pandemonium.

Flinging the chain around the neck of one, Geto swung them like a chain and ball, crushing many others against the walls.

Those petrified hideous faces get their brains ruptured out; globby chunks vomiting out by mere cursed thought.

Many rammed right into the glass window ceiling, sending cracks racing in its wake, the pure white sunlight becoming a neon red.

Shards of glass rained down, deflected by Limitless as the pair found themselves back to back, watching with callousness as many were skewered like porcupines.

Limbless lumps of lifeless flesh plastered every inch of the once pristine interior from every wall, crevice, and even the ceiling had scarlet drenching it.

Their haggard breaths and sweaty burning faces aside, their dark craving for retribution still lingered in them both.

It wouldn't be enough.

Not until every last member was eviscerated.

Dismissing the worm, Geto scanned the room, trembling at the grotesque aftermath.

His cerise painted hands hung limply at his sides.

Amiss the madness, their residuals were there.

Fortunately they knew to an extent how to hide them. However long those held out, they couldn't waste a moment. Any longer than that spent here meant capture followed by immediate execution.

Feeling himself moving by a firm grasp tugging on his hand, his light headed state transitioned to a frigged one over what they had just committed. The solid squeeze of Gojo's sizzling hand helped pull him further out of his own unsteady mindset.

"Satoru …" He internally felt revolted at having those monkeys wretched blood covering his skin.

"Suguru."

Through the path of red, his closest friend – his ally in genocide – turned to him with cherry-red streaking his unbuttoned jacket and the collared white undershirt, for his glowing – exhausted – eyes were scarred with the brutal truth. Reaching his stained, steadfast hands out for that stained lost face, Gojo rested his forehead against Geto’s, staring into those stricken eyes of one of his most greatest treasures.

"Come with me. Let's get away.”

Blood trickled down from the ceiling, spilling along their hair, staining their faces, but both couldn't care less as they sealed it with a kiss. Lost in the bloody euphoria, relishing in one another's warmth.

The new taste of searing iron overtook the repelling flavor of cursed spirits, overwhelming the pair as Geto clawed at Gojo's back and the latter's hands massaged the former's supple cheeks, bringing muffled moans outta them both.

It feels right … anywhere … as long as it's with each other. It's just right.

Wherever they end up, whatever it may be, may it be nowhere near here whenever whichever sorcerers would be sent to investigate this now scene of massacre.

Once partners in sorcery.

Now partners in crime.

What a send off for them, the newly dropouts.

The clapping halted.

The ringing faded.

Their hearts felt lighter.

But something still felt off.

Someone was missing.

"Y/n." Geto's eyes opened to stare into Gojo's as they parted lips. "We can't leave her behind … we can't …"

Knowing their cursed seer partner probably foresaw the bloody chain of events that had recently just transpired in the last few hours. But knowing how abrupt they can be, maintaining and willing them into your mind’s eye was still a burdening struggle, ergo you being left behind at school for tiring training.

The heavy fog of bloodlust and tension between them lifted for now Geto's eyes lightened at sensing that familiar presence. He knew Gojo sensed it as well, for his glowing eyes followed his lead, taking Riko back in his arms, the duo raced to the surface outside.

You had ran outta the car that dropped you off down the street. You gulped to stifle back the bile at the gory sight of the fallen Zen’in still standing; the bloody puddle reaching for you now.

Your gaze averted once you spotted them coming out, hurrying over, your stomach churning at how scrapped up and red they appeared, but your empathy outweighed the disgust as Geto caught you in his heavy weighted grasp.

The fear in Geto's eyes mingled with confusion and concern. "Y/n … I … we –!”

Gojo’s eyes slanted as you kept your face hidden. "Did you get a vision?”

Your shaky nod against Geto’s chest paired with your ashamed tone. “I was too late … I,” An anxious pause of silence stretched between you three. “Shoko told me where you were headed after healing you … then came another one … of course you two would get Riko’s body back …”

They waited for the heart shattering blow. The final nail in the coffin. You shunning them away, cutting ties immediately. Rejecting them for their heinous act. Fleeing away in horror to Jujutsu High, reporting their sorry asses and ousting them as traitors. All the above — !

“The system would have let these zealots slip through the cracks. They … their assassin … they all deserve to rot in hell for what they've done … all because of Tengen … Kuroi and Amanai have been avenged.” Your callous tone kinda threw them off a tad bit.

Geto gulped. “You … You're okay with it?”

Your head finally rose up, the glossy layer to those e/c eyes sparkled from the sliver of sunset. "I know I can't make up for letting you all down … and no amount of apologies can redeem my blunder … but I can do this at least. I'll bring her back to the school, back to Kuroi-san. They deserve to be laid to rest together.”

You reluctantly pull away from Geto’s warmth; uncaring about the red stains smearing your clothes now, to take the wrapped up body as Gojo gently passes her into your arms, melancholy heavy on your face but the strength of resolve aiding you in carrying her. “My place is with you two. Always. Now more than ever.”

Geto’s eyes pricked with burning warmth; your willingness to stay despite everything, as he kissed your temple. “We should be apologizing to you.”

“There's still more of those facilities in the city left standing. We're not finished just yet.” Gojo's voice spoke doom for their upcoming targets, a stark contrast to his own kiss to your forehead being so sweet.

“They all need to go. Every single one of them.” Geto clenched his veiny hands, determined to see this through to the end. “We will return for you. If you wouldn't mind packing our things for us by the time we show up …”

You nodded, sadly smiling. "Don't keep me waiting too long.”

Their brisk nods to you paired with smooches to your cheeks were all you were given before you watched them holding hands then warping away.

The driver stayed silent as they drove your contemplative self, keeping her cold self close to your warmth, back to school for the last time.

°•○•°•○•°°•○•°•○•°°•○•°•○•°°•○•°•○•°°•○•

The sun had set.

Crimson painted the sky.

A young girl's life ended by a gunshot to the head.

Two young teens, forced to face the cruel reality of their lives through near death.

The Star Religious Group Headquarters.

House of the Children of the Star.

Their monotheistic religion spent worshiping their absolute God; Tengen.

Crossing the wrong sorcerers, nearly costing them their lives in the process at the hands of their hired assassin; the Zen'in clan failure.

Their facilities left as ruins scattered in ruble, collapsed craters layering the grounds, red painting the toppled stone and marble.

The trauma of near death, failing to keep their promises to protect their friends' lives, and losing to a physically gifted human … their pride as the strongest duo now tarnished.

Retribution.

Selfish desires made to fruition.

With Riko-chan now gone, the assimilation was now void.

Tengen-sama had evolved.

The barrier hiding the school's location was weakened and easily spotted by the Six Eyes.

You solo carried Riko to the morgue, spotting your senpai and fellow kouhai watching you from the distance, ignoring your driver hurriedly running to inform Yaga-sensei of the turn of events, but only making eye contact with Shoko as she was standing out front by the entrance, already expecting you, prepared for the worst.

You two stayed silent, understanding exactly just from seeing the acceptance in your gaze.

Seeing the covered bodies laying side by side on the tables, you prayed over the mother daughter pair, believing the guys would stop by to do the same, hopefully.

As you just finished zipping up one of three duffle bags meant for each of you in your room, you felt the ripples through the Force that is cursed energy.

The fuse was lit. The air pricked with sparks as those two set off a chain reaction.

You could visualize the facilities up in flames.

“You really are idiots.” Shoko leaned against the open doorway, smoke in her disapproving frown. “To think they'd go this far … and you're bailing with them.”

“My whole world ended when I lost my mom. My dad was a broke ass deadbeat. Then I was discovered, brought here and met you all. You became the family I needed … so I thought that was enough. But those two … they're my everything. We ride or die together. You can join us or stay here. That goes for you two as well, ya know.”

You felt Haibara and Nanami hiding behind the wall before joining Shoko in the sliding doorway. By the looks on their faces, the news spread like wildfire.

“If I go with you guys, then the higher ups will force my sister to take my place.” Haibara frowned at the guilty truth.

“Rules and regulations keep us in line, as much as they suck.” Nanami sulked.

“Those old cods view us all as disposable tools. We're not heroes. We have our own ideals, desires, lives even. And if it means I may die down the line because I choose to walk away, then I'd rather die with freedom than serve them as their obedient lapdog.” You spoke devotedly.

“I don't get it.” The blunt tone and her aversion to eye contact made you realize how left out Shoko still felt that her two crazy guy friends were willing to leave them – leave her – behind.

“It'd be nice to have you by our side Ieiri … but I know you still have Utahime to consider.” You grinned at seeing the tiny pink tinted rise to her cheeks.

“You're our classmates! To have you and our senpai be branded as curse users, I don't want to have to fight you guys!” Haibara's angry tears made your heart waver. Your own eyes burned with cursed energy.

The static film reel of seeing your guys getting savagely brutalized, Riko and Kuroi's murders, even further down the line … glimpsing Haibara scarred and pale and so damn still —

“You're still our friends. Always.”

Even with glistening chibi eyes and stubbornly pursed lips, Haibara realized you had made up your mind, reaching Nanami's hand to squeeze and be his anchor.

“It's not a crime to be a kid, but the accumulation of life's little despairs make you become an adult. Remember that.” Nanami understood that much, knowing the guys are capable of setting the world on fire when pushed too far. Like so.

Blinking back tears yourself, you nodded. “If you ever need us or change your mind, you know how to reach us.”

Throwing the duffle bags outta the window before jumping out yourself took them all by surprise. Jutting their heads out, they were relieved yet anxious spotting Geto's manta ray cursed spirit flying away, the bags and you safe across his lap and wrapped up in his arms.

His crestfallen gaze back at them was the last sight of him they received when they also spotted Gojo floating on high, gazing at them with melancholy, the living example of Nanami's parting words to you.

Knowing deep in your intuition they snuck into the morgue to pay their final respects to Riko and Kuroi before retrieving you, you kept quiet about it, trusting them wholly to catch you as well.

On that day, everything changed.

On that night, there was no turning back.

But to both yours and Geto's surprise, the boldness of Gojo as he landed right by you both on the manta ray and grasped Geto's shoulder, his suggestion for a hideaway took your breaths away.

The empty private home – one of quite many – belonging to his family's clan; this one gifted solely to him. Even as fugitives, making such a bold choice to hide there, Gojo sure is a wild child.

Wading in the waters of the giant tub to wash away the blood, flushing the pink tinted liquid down the drain, then filling up the tub once more made way for some scented oil that helped elevate the tranquil vibes.

“You're certain?” Geto scrubbed his shoulder length sudsy hair, brushing his wet locks.

“The clan has too many spots all over Japan. We crash here tonight, take what we can to sell for cash in case the geezers fry our bank accounts, then high tail someplace new. Like say, I don't know, overseas?” Gojo's lax assurance transformed him into a chibi in Geto's point of view; resting his head and arms back against the tub's rim.

Almond eyes darkened, catching the scar stretching from Gojo's lithe neck, across that toned chest, and stopping by his hip poking out of the bubbly water.

Exhaustion smeared with piqued intrigue and guilt in those blue eyes spotting the X shaped scar on Geto's sculpted chest.

Red tints colored their faces as pleased sighs left their lips at the warm water loosening up their stiff muscles, fingers weaving through each other's slick hair, bringing their faces closer, brown meeting blue as they stared longingly at each other.

The unique connection ergo magnetic attraction was evident. From clashing freshmen to still bickering but budding sophomores. And now, as fresh genocidal dropouts, they both looked like they aged a lot.

The contrasts, the similarities, their yin yang dynamic.

That and the fuzzy warmth was getting to them.

“I'm really glad you're alive.” Geto nuzzled his nose against Gojo's.

“RCT for the win.” That albino pecked the corner mouth of his raven.

Their tired giggles relieved the tension.

Brushing their bare dripping shoulders together, lips connected, initiating timid soft touches. Drool connected their heated tongues, their heated breath fanning one another's face, oh so close, wanting more.

Your hums of content grabbed their attention as you waded over to them, watching your round cheeks blowing soapy bubbles into their faces.

Running your hands down their scars made your lips tremble at the agony they went through. Entrapped in their arms, you hummed as their lithe hands caressed your supple smooth skin for they were touched by your gingerly layered kisses along their tender marked flesh.

Toru's yawning broke out, worrying you and Sugu who suggested you all start drying up. Toru was the most exhausted being actively awake using Six Eyes for 3 days straight.

But you all were, mentally and emotionally.

The electric dryer rumbled as your wet uniforms swirled within. The AC hummed in the backdrop.

Duffle bags left open as you three laid in the enormous bed, you three snuggled in close on the center.

Setting up a small simple altar in honor of Riko and Kuroi in the room gave you all some peace of mind, especially when burning some smoky incense to cleanse the place. To pray and hope that their souls were in a better place than the hell they're stuck on called Earth.

“I detest humanity. Swallowing cursed spirits made from the worst parts of their very existence for so long confirms that. Killing those cultists put my mind at ease … as horrible as that must be to you.” Suguru's weary gaze shifted to meet Satoru's now unsettlingly calm ones as they laid atop the bed beside each other, clad in just boxers, with you splayed across Satoru wearing just a large tee you all shared just cause.

“You've been feeling this way for a long time, then.” Suguru flushed as Satoru weaved his hand through those silky obsidian strands, free from the metaphorical shackles of his usual restrained bun. “I'm sorry I didn't realize it.”

Suguru's cheek nuzzled his wrist, breathing in Satoru’s cozy scent. “I never wanted you to. Or anyone for that matter. These are my own feelings to grapple with.”

Satoru's messy cat hair shook, tickling Suguru's face, closing his stinging eyes to let them rest for the moment as their foreheads touched. “Well, now, we'll carry that burden together.”

“We're branded as curse users now … we're on our own from here … and you're fine with that?” Sugu was skeptical for the most part.

“I never held hatred for anybody before … not even over Amanai's death … but I always knew my life would be spent as a living weapon for jujutsu society … a monster. And now that I've crossed the line … there's no coming back from that … but I'd do it all again …if it mended the pain you felt inside. I just … I don't want you suffering in silence anymore. I never want to leave you behind.” That soothing voice of his cracked.

Suguru was breathless seeing red in those reopened agonized eyes.

“Still … I took advantage of your heightened state and let my emotions cloud my judgment. I'm supposed to be the moral compass … yet I'm no better than those monkeys … and you nearly died because of them … I'm sorry Satoru … I'm so sorry.” Water hit Toru’s skin as the choked up weeping of his best friend smothered his shoulder.

“Hey, hey. I'm here, aren't I?” Keeping an arm wrapped around his partner, Satoru smooched the crown of Suguru's precious noggin, being tickled by those loose bangs in the face, shushing him and kissing that pierced ear of his. “And even you need to cut yourself some slack and lean on others too, ya know. And realize … you can't get rid of me that easily. You're stuck with this monster for a long time, Suguru~”

That possessive, enamored voice compelled Suguru to peak out and witness those lovesick eyes; the polar opposite to the tunnel vision of the reawakened Satoru Gojo that approached him with Riko-chan in his arms, struck right at his core.

The soft warm lamp on the side table paired with the sliver of moonlight between the curtains transformed their eyes into mini galaxies. Their own universe even to dwell in and share together.

“Hmm.” He brushed back Satoru's locks to spot the scar on his forehead and kiss that booboo. “You've never been a monster to me. Just a goofy idiot.”

Elated chuckles hit his giant lobed ears as his resident goofball pecked his blushing nose. “Your goofy idiot, smart ass.”

“Awwww~”

Flinching at that familiar voice, the guys directed their flushed gazes to you; your cheek mushed against Toru's pillow chest, fawning over them with your e/c eyes, round with sparkles and hearts set a glow in ‘em.

“I agree with all the above. Don't mind me. Just get it on with the yaoi goodness.”

“How subtle.” Suguru's eyes crinkled with mirth.

“She's got good taste, though.” Satoru's feline grin followed, rolling you both over to smush you in between them, pecking your forehead. “Period.”

You frowned. “All the apologies in the world can't make up for me letting you two down today.”

“Nonsense.” Suguru disagreed as the back of your head cushioned in between his plush pecs. “Having you here with us makes this shitty day much better.”

“We all screwed up.” Gojo griped before it became a longer deeper yawn.

Your eyes glowed a moment before dying down, alerting them and reminding you. “Time for you to sleep. Cause we got a lot of shit to think over on how to move forward. For all of us.” His exasperated sigh was met by your chaste lips as you leaned up to kiss him; him returning it to suck them up.

“Yes ma'am.” His pouting turned to a dopey grin; growing wider when Suguru kissed him goodnight too. That finally conked him out, breathing softly, when Suguru's hand wrapped around your side, turning you to lay on your back so he could see you properly; eyes clad in guilt of his own.

“Y/n, in no way should you feel responsible for what happened. That assassin would have killed you too if you had gotten involved. If we lost you as well …” His forehead met yours, letting you kiss him slowly, pulling him in to relish your personal taste. “My hope is that they're in a better place now.”

“Me too … My visions are just as much an omen as they are an aid. In this world there are no guarantees for a peaceful living … but I believe in you two … no matter what … and I know in my heart this is worth it, risks and all.”

Your honest smile made him grateful for accepting him, despite all that's happened, his tears hitting your face in response so you kissed his tears away.

“Thank you, Y/n.” His whispers met your lips as you two got caught up in another kiss when you two grunted in surprise as Satoru flipped you both over, smothering you two under his precious heat.

“‘M love you both, mmh so much.” He mewled, sleepy eyes peeking open to drowsily smile down at you two.

“Satoru, we can't breathe.” A red faced Suguru wheezed out.

Satoru languidly laughed, “My bad.”

Thankfully, you three were able to get some shuteye that night.

They're your whole world now.

Deep down inside, they know they're both monsters, for that day brought the truth to light of their dark potential.

But they're your monsters.

Your empathetic, devious, passionate monsters.

And as far as the truth goes, you too are just the same.

Three of a kind, indeed.

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theobsessedcookiefan · 4 months

Text

..I just had an idea thanks to a Steven Universe audio lmao-

Short scenario of a what if!!

❀•°•═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════•°•❀

✧─── ･｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

What if y/n instead of being a young witch was one of who created Blueberry Milk Cookie?

✧─── ･｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

It had been a year since you became friends with one of your creations, the cookie holder of the virtue of knowledge, it was amusing to you how he would make space in to come to your castle, you didn't mind, it was nice to have the company of a little guy who was interested in everything you did, and you had time to admire your work, work that took years of practice and fail, the clothes took you more time than you expected and they turned out to be such a perfect match to his personality. It was perfect, everything was like you planned it to be, or so you thought.

- "I've been working on a new spell for a month now." - The blue cookie's voice interrupted your train of thought while you were writing notes to make sure the next cookie you baked would turn out perfectly, no accidents this time.

- "Really now?" - You asked, sounding like he just made a big revelation, you knew he liked magic yes but he usually just followed the instructions, you've never seen him make his own spells before. - "Yes! It would be an honor to show you what I've learnt from your books." - Blueberry Milk spoke with a hint of admiration on his voice as usual when talking to you. - "I want it to be a surprise for you as well, can I try it?" - You nodded your head and backed up a bit to give him space. He started to mumble some words and then a golden light started to surround his body, it was almost hypnotizing to see. Sadly nothing happened after that and he looked at himself, looking as confused (or maybe disappointed) as you.

- "I-It didn't work.. I'm still not a human.." - You couldn't help but laugh at his words, the confusion transforming into amusement once more as you tried to contain your giggles. - "What?! Pfft- You c-can't become a human, you're a cookie-" - It was as if Blueberry Milk's heart just broke hearing your words, but he shook his head to try and regain his composure. - "I know! That's the problem, I'm just a cookie!" - But before he could add something else you spoke with a smile, you didn't understand how someone who was made so perfectly would want to become a simple human. - "That's not a problem you silly! I love cookies, you're all so funny!" -

How could he look at you after you saying that, it made his face flush deep blue in embarrassment as he tried to make you understand his feelings, fidgeting with his fingers. - "Look- this past year has been great.." - You couldn't deny that so you nodded, letting him continue. - "But I'm getting worried about the future.." - Thinking that was his only worry you spoke cheerfully. - "Oh! You can always consult my crystal ball, it's the perfect solution for that!" -

Now it was getting hard for Blueberry Milk to speak clearly, you always talked like his worries were no big deal.. As if he wasn't a big deal; this time he spoke without thinking clearly. - "I'm starting to wonder if you.. Respect me?" - The tone of his question was almost pleading, begging for you to say yes, that you did respect him! But only another muffled laugh came out of you, covering your own mouth to try and keep quiet, how were you supposed to take that seriously? It was almost as if he was joking. - "Oh you're hilarious Blueberry Milk!" - You said as tears of laughter escaped the corner of your eyes, it didn't felt well for the small one though, who started to panic at your laughter. - "Y/N please!.." - He pleaded again, trying to get your attention once more. - "Can you just.. Talk to me for one second like a normal cookie?!" - He finally exploded, clenching his fists as he shouted at you, his voice sounding weird, distorted even, that made your laughter stop immediately. - "I'm not a cookie Blue. I thought-.. You knew that.. That's not how it works.." -

✧─── ･｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

End of scenario.

✧─── ･｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

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#cookie run #cookie run x reader #shadow milk cookie #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom #cr kingdom #thewitchandthehero

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devilish-yuki · 1 year

Text

Since the Obey Me brothers are so attached to their MC and every single one of them have a animal form, why not turn into that animal and sneak out MC when they're at their school / work?

Mammon

That man has it easy, since he can turn into a crow that couldn't suppose any big danger since he can fly and more. Mammon could easily come through your classroom window one day, scaring everyone away in the process, and bring you whatever silly thing he got along the way. Did you know that crows, like parrots, can imitate human sounds? Well now you know Mammon even as a crow would speak to you.

— Look human! I found Lucifer's credit card, let's hang out after ya class / shift!

— Mammon, get the hell out of here.

The rest of the day he refuses to leave and remains either on your head or on your shoulder, occasionally asking for cuddles.

Leviathan

Now, now, Levi has things a little more complicated, since he's a snake so the only way for him to visit you in his animal form would be to travel through the water pipes to get to you, so imagine one day you minding your own business and hearing a terrified scream followed by another scream saying "A snake!"... What are the chances that a snake will enter the building? In any case, you know without proof or doubt that it's Levi.

— Don't hurt him! He's my... pet? Yes!

To avoid problems with your class / workmates, you decide to just apologize and get as far away as you can just to "scold" Levi for appearing like that out of nowhere, his answer? Get inside your clothes and spend all day with you hissing and moving when he's uncomfortable.

Satan

Yeah no, there's no way he's going to turn into a freaking unicorn, so he very wisely decides to be a cat! Of course! Very agilely he manages to follow you from home to your school / work without being discovered, he even successfully infiltrates inside the establishment! You only realize his preference when you hear many people try to call him saying "kitty!", then you turn around and as if it were a beautiful movie like reunion, Satan runs towards you and jumps on you only for you to catch him and start to purr.

— MC! I didn't know you had a cat!

— Me neither...

— What?

Satan is a micro celebrity around your class / workmates, everyone takes pictures of him and petting him... obviously failing in this, he is a surly cat that only allows and demands that you pet him and give him your full attention.

Asmodeus

Another one that wouldn't turn into his designated animal is obviously Asmo because "scorpions aren't cute enough" so what does he choose? Simple, a cute lop-eared bunny. Unlike the others, he tells you that he will go with you and gives you a nice bag to carry him in it.

— Your bunny is such a cutie! I love him.

— Sure, just... don't look at him in his eyes for too long... I don't want you to get charmed.

Unlike Satan, Asmo does enjoy the attention he receives and even, in his bunny way, asks you to change his clothes and does tricks! So all day he tries to get everyone's attention and when your teacher / supervisor tries to reprimand you for having him, he just charms them.

Beelzebub & Belphegor

Beel is a fly and Belphie is a cow and, although naturally they could be together in their animal form, I don't think it would be very convenient to take a sleepy cow and a hungry fly with you, so they are both a pair of cute ferrets. The way to get to you is by getting inside your backpack without you noticing, you discover them when you go to look for a snack to eat and you realize that there are only 2 furballs in the pocket, one sleeping and the other eating what was left of the snack.

— Awww Beel! That was my snack!

— Eek!

— Come here you both.

The rest of the day they spend in your pockets and table sleeping together or playing with each other, from time to time Beel will ask you for food nibbling your finger so get ready to spend money.

Lucifer

Lucifer doesn't care sneaking into your school work in his human form so why would he be using his animal form? ... I don't know, the planets aligned or something, besides, the only reason he would meddle in your day would be because his brothers are doing something with you that he does not particularly like. Don't be surprised if you're with one of the brothers (pets) and out of nowhere a black peacock shows up ready to attack.

— MC is that... a peacock !?

— No.... that's the devil himself.

Luci would not stay the whole day with you because he's a very busy man, but if you ask him, he could open his train (tail) to impress your class / workmates. At the end of the day, as always, he will pick you up in his human form and by car, he hates it when you go home alone.

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rebeccathenaturalist · 1 year

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Existence Value: Why All of Nature is Important Whether We Can Use it or Not

I spend a lot of time around other nature nerds. We’re a bunch of people from varying backgrounds, places, and generations who all find a deep well of inspiration within the natural world. We’re the sort of people who will happily spend all day outside enjoying seeing wildlife and their habitats without any sort of secondary goal like fishing, foraging, etc. (though some of us engage in those activities, too.) We don’t just fall in love with the places we’ve been, either, but wild locales that we’ve only ever seen in pictures, or heard of from others. We are curators of existence value.

Existence value is exactly what it sounds like–something is considered important and worthwhile simply because it is. It’s at odds with how a lot of folks here in the United States view our “natural resources.” It’s also telling that that is the term most often used to refer collectively to anything that is not a human being, something we have created, or a species we have domesticated, and I have run into many people in my lifetime for whom the only value nature has is what money can be extracted from it. Timber, minerals, water, meat (wild and domestic), mushrooms, and more–for some, these are the sole reasons nature exists, especially if they can be sold for profit. When questioning how deeply imbalanced and harmful our extractive processes have become, I’ve often been told “Well, that’s just the way it is,” as if we shall be forever frozen in the mid-20th century with no opportunity to reimagine industry, technology, or uses thereof.

Moreover, we often assign positive or negative value to a being or place based on whether it directly benefits us or not. Look at how many people want to see deer and elk numbers skyrocket so that they have more to hunt, while advocating for going back to the days when people shot every gray wolf they came across. Barry Holstun Lopez’ classic Of Wolves and Men is just one of several in-depth looks at how deeply ingrained that hatred of the “big bad wolf” is in western mindsets, simply because wolves inconveniently prey on livestock and compete with us for dwindling areas of wild land and the wild game that sustained both species’ ancestors for many millennia. “Good” species are those that give us things; “bad” species are those that refuse to be so complacent.

Even the modern conservation movement often has to appeal to people’s selfishness in order to get us to care about nature. Look at how often we have to argue that a species of rare plant is worth saving because it might have a compound in it we could use for medicine. Think about how we’ve had to explain that we need biodiverse ecosystems, healthy soil, and clean water and air because of the ecosystem services they provide us. We measure the value of trees in dollars based on how they can mitigate air pollution and anthropogenic climate change. It’s frankly depressing how many people won’t understand a problem until we put things in terms of their own self-interest and make it personal. (I see that less as an individual failing, and more our society’s failure to teach empathy and emotional skills in general, but that’s a post for another time.)

Existence value flies in the face of all of those presumptions. It says that a wild animal, or a fungus, or a landscape, is worth preserving simply because it is there, and that is good enough. It argues that the white-tailed deer and the gray wolf are equally valuable regardless of what we think of them or get from them, in part because both are keystone species that have massive positive impacts on the ecosystems they are a part of, and their loss is ecologically devastating.

But even those species whose ecological impact isn’t quite so wide-ranging are still considered to have existence value. And we don’t have to have personally interacted with a place or its natural inhabitants in order to understand their existence value, either. I may never get to visit the Maasai Mara in Kenya, but I wish to see it as protected and cared for as places I visit regularly, like Willapa National Wildlife Refuge. And there are countless other places, whose names I may never know and which may be no larger than a fraction of an acre, that are important in their own right.

I would like more people (in western societies in particular) to be considering this concept of existence value. What happens when we detangle non-human nature from the automatic value judgements we place on it according to our own biases? When we question why we hold certain values, where those values came from, and the motivations of those who handed them to us in the first place, it makes it easier to see the complicated messes beneath the simple, shiny veneer of “Well, that’s just the way it is.”

And then we get to that most dangerous of realizations: it doesn’t have to be this way. It can be different, and better, taking the best of what we’ve accomplished over the years and creating better solutions for the worst of what we’ve done. In the words of Rebecca Buck–aka Tank Girl–“We can be wonderful. We can be magnificent. We can turn this shit around.”

Let’s be clear: rethinking is just the first step. We can’t just uproot ourselves from our current, deeply entrenched technological, social, and environmental situation and instantly create a new way of doing things. Societal change takes time; it takes generations. This is how we got into that situation, and it’s how we’re going to climb out of it and hopefully into something better. Sometimes the best we can do is celebrate small, incremental victories–but that’s better than nothing at all.

Nor can we just ignore the immensely disproportionate impact that has been made on indigenous and other disadvantaged communities by our society (even in some cases where we’ve actually been trying to fix the problems we’ve created.) It does no good to accept nature’s inherent value on its own terms if we do not also extend that acceptance throughout our own society, and to our entire species as a whole.

But I think ruminating on this concept of existence value is a good first step toward breaking ourselves out first and foremost. And then we go from there.

Did you enjoy this post? Consider taking one of my online foraging and natural history classes or hiring me for a guided nature tour, checking out my other articles, or picking up a paperback or ebook I’ve written! You can even buy me a coffee here!

#nature #natural history #ecology #wildlife #animals #environment #environmentalism #conservation #existence value #deep ecology #science #scicomm #environmental philosophy #climate change

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moronkombat · 1 year

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i'm in the mood to embarrass a boy ☺ how about hcs for reptile around his crush! and he can't stop subconsciously having his tail twitch in excitement or do some happy growls or even worse when he's talking to them his tail automatically wraps around their leg or waist and he basically jumps outta his skin when he realizes he's doing that hehehe i like to imagine his "human" form has some lizard parts to it like his tail or some claws/scales 🦎

let's do some blushy syzoth!!

When Syzoth has feelings for someone he is excited to see them. Even the smallest of encounters go a long way for him

Eyes light up and his smile widens and...what's that sound? It's something murmuring? It's Syzoth very very lowly bellowing which sounds very similar to a purr

Sometimes he'll gaze at the object of his affections with a dream like gaze. Without noticing he'll begin to purr and bob is head up and down just like the other Zaterrans do back home to show their interest

Problem is, his partner is unfamiliar with such customs so, to them, it appears he is nodding at your repeatedly while you talk to him. You think he is quite the enthusiastic listener

Syzoth will also get very low to ground, as low as he can possibly get before pushing his arms and legs up to lift himself. This to is him seeking out your favor. Unfortunately, his actions mirror pushups and you think he is simply very athletic

He is confused as to why you are understanding his attempts and he beings to take it as you are not interested in pursuing a relationship with him

While he is saddened by this, he does not cut ties with you. Syzoth is not the type to do so in haste. He enjoys your company and will continue to do so even if he longs for more

Still, his feelings get the better of him at times. You'll be standing next to him, talking about something, anything really. Syzoth will listen to whatever you have to say

His eyes smile as he looks to you enchanted. He is lost in the words you give to him that he fails to notice the appearance of a rather large tail waving back and forth

Syzoth's tail will sway back and forth as he listens to you. His thoughts are filled with you and you alone and his body speaks them

The tail curls around your leg so very lightly and you notice before he does. Laughing a bit and pointing you his gesture

Emerald eyes blink and then fly open in shock. Turning his head and there would indeed be a tail curling around your leg

He begins to stammer out apologies, whipping his tail away and hidden once more

But then you calm him and tell him it's quite alright. You even say that you found it very endearing and did not mind it at all

Syzoth's blush glows brighter and brighter while words continue to trip over each other

You merely smile and tell him not to worry, that you don't find his natural features unsightly

And Syzoth is happy to hear this and once again his tail moves. It goes wrapped around your waist and you do not mind this

Perhaps there is a way mix your two cultures' affection styles?

#mortal kombat #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat fanworks #mortal kombat headcanons #mk1 #mortal kombat x reader #syzoth x you #syzoth x reader #syzoth #mk reptile

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abbyromanoff · 1 year

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Can I request an omegaverse where R is a beta but when she meets Alpha! Agatha, R’s body changes and become in omega! R?

Please 🥺

SAY YES TO HEAVEN

PAIRINGS: Agatha Harkness x reader

WORD COUNT: 1,832

WARNINGS: ABO universe, smut, car sex, handjobs, breeding, multiple orgasms, creampies, marking, possessiveness, praise, degrading, think that’s all :))

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Agatha never intended to fall in love with someone like you, someone who wasn’t part of her kind. You were a beta, failing to fit in with the majority of society and often finding yourself as an outcast to most, but that only seemed to make your girlfriend fall harder.

You tried to understand what her role as an Alpha meant and the fact that she was destined to be with an Omega, something you weren’t but now wish you could be. She wasn’t like any of the Alpha’s you came across, she cared about more than sex and saw you as a human being, not just a piece of meat to use and throw away once she was done.

But eventually, over the course of nine months, you noticed changes in your body. It started out small when you noticed a growing heat in your lower region, but you assumed it was natural. Then when she was stroking your face, her fingers pumping deep inside of you, an almost purr-like noise left your gaping mouth. You could tell the effect it had on her as well, she had been waiting to hear her partner release such sounds of pleasure.

Then came the need, it was more than ever before, even looking in the woman’s eyes caused a throb to erupt on your clit. What was happening? You didn’t know, which meant you did the only logical thing and visited your doctor.

Agatha offered to take you to the appointment after you informed her of your emotions and physicalities as of late. She had been sensing it too, your smell felt like it was pulling her in, and the urge to claim you as hers only grew.

“It’s going to be alright, my love. If anything happens I’ll be right there with you.” Her words and sweet smile seemed to ease the shaking of your leg before a knocking was placed on the door. The older woman stepped through with what seemed to be an irritated look, she must’ve had a long day, you thought.

“So, tell me, Y/N, what seems to be the problem today?” Came her voice after a few minutes of small talk. A blood-pressure pump was wrapped around your arm and had been squeezing tighter and tighter, cutting off your circulation before you slowly gained it back after release.

“Well, uhm,” Agatha gave you a reassuring look. “I’ve been noticing- the both of us have, actually that there seems to be a change in my body lately and I don’t really know what to do or what it could mean.” You explained, receiving a hum from the doctor as she continued to type on her laptop.

“Mm, and your wife here- is she also a beta?” You blushed at the title she gave your girlfriend and noticed she shared the same reaction.

“Uh, my girlfriend is not a beta, no. She’s actually an alpha.” Her eyebrows rose before shaking it off, but you were used to the reaction, it wasn’t considered normal to see a pair like you together.

“Alright, I think it’s best if I perform a thorough exam, just to be safe. Why don’t you take off your clothes and I’ll be right back.”

The rest of the exam went considerably well, but it almost pained your partner seeing the professional place their hands on your body, on her body. You were hers, it felt almost predatory how much possessiveness could be caused by such a small act.

But when the painfully long wait finally came to an end, you were greeted with the news you had been starting to expect, your body was developing to match your mate’s, you were forming the traits of an omega.

“There’s nothing wrong with it, it’s actually much more common than you think.” The doctor tried to persuade you, but your mind was still swirling a mile a minute. When earning nothing but silence from your end, Agatha spoke for you.

“Uh, thank you, Miss, we appreciate your help.” She left with a nod and the two of you soon left after her, Agatha secretly smiling to herself as she opened the car door for you.

“You know, it’s really not that bad if you think about it.” There were barely any cars in the parking lot besides yours, most likely because they were nearing closing hours.

“Are you really that upset about this?” She didn’t understand why you kept your head in your hands while leaning forward, did you not want to be her omega?

“I’m not upset, I’m just-” You couldn’t finish as a small whine left you, not quite quiet enough to slip by her listening ears.

“Then tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, baby.” She tried to bring herself closer to you in hopes of getting a hold of you, only to feel your lips being placed on hers in a hurry. You used both hands to grasp harshly at her cheeks, already starting to climb over the dashboard as you found comfort on her lap.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I’ve just been needing you so bad this week. I’ve been thinking about how nice it would be to have your marking, to finally be your omega.” You kissed hastily down her neck and near her jawline, letting yourself leave purple hints that some may suspect were bruises, luckily, purple was her favorite color.

“And then she told me what I’ve been waiting to hear, and I knew I just needed to have you as soon as possible.” Your arms wrapped around her shoulders as your hips started a grinding motion, all previous nerves disappearing as you got lost in a trance of overwhelming pleasure.

“There- someone could see us…” She mumbled, not being able to stop the moans that flew out of her. You were coming in perfect contact with her length, she was becoming just as desperate as you.

“I don’t fucking care, let them see. I thought you wanted people to know I’m yours, has that changed?” Your head was thrown back as her hands came in contact with your waist, causing the pace you started to quicken to her liking.

“Don’t fucking tease me, Y/N.” The way your name spilled out of her mouth in a haunting whisper sent shivers down your spine and caused goosebumps to erupt over your entire being. Your chuckle drove her mad as she pressed her mouth against your exposed neck, leaving stains of her lipstick across the layers of your skin.

“Or what? You’ll fuck my brains out, hm?” Your nimble fingers trailed down to her pants that were harboring a small wet patch. You reached for her belt and untangled it loosely, tossing it in the back before unzipping her khakis. She decided to help you and lifted her hips before lowering her bottoms, her erect cock coming to show and you nearly drooled at the sight.

“I need you inside me so fucking bad, you have no idea.” You stroked her rapidly, feeling her pre-cum drench your hand.

“That’s it, just like that.” She whimpered soundlessly, almost inaudible.

“Oh, yes! Y- you’re doing such a good job, such a good fucking girl.” You smirked teasingly before leaving a lingering kiss on her lips, letting her chase back in hopes of feeling you once again.

“Aren’t I giving you enough? Or is this not enough for your greedy little cock?” You fauxed a pout of sympathy, laughing to yourself when she thrusted into your enclosed hand.

“Awh, it’s so cute seeing you like this, so needy and distressed. I think I know how to fix that.” You brought her fingers against your inner thigh, slowly dragging it closer and closer to your heat. Feeling you through your tight jeans wasn’t enough, she felt as though she would die if she couldn’t feel you.

“Get in the back,” She stated firmly. “Now!” You nodded, a sudden act of submission that brought you by surprise. She followed soon after, smiling as you started discarding yourself of your clothing.

“You’re so perfect, and all fucking mine.” Her lips wrapped around your nipple, the bud hardening the harsher she sucked.

“Spread your legs for me, sweetheart.” It wasn’t a request as it was a statement. Her mouth fell upon your neglected breast as she lined herself up with your entrance, there was no need for foreplay as you were already dripping, it nearly brought shame seeing just how wet you were.

“Please, please- ah! Oh, God!” Her face contorted into pleasure as your warmth surrounded her, she felt like she was going to collapse at any given moment.

“Shh, the only one who gets to hear your moans is me, you got that?” You nodded, unable to form words as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Her head stuck in your neck as she cried, sensing her orgasm approaching. The previous acts only edged her further, but now with your walls clamping around her, she knew there was no hope in stopping herself.

“So fucking tight! Oh, fuck, I-I’m gonna cum inside you. Can I cum, baby?” You could hear the pure want and desire looming in her breath and knew you couldn’t deny her.

“Yeah, just- please cum inside me, I want your pups, Aggie.” Your breasts were pressed together and your legs wrapped around her ass, pressing her closer into you in hopes she’d be able to thrust even deeper.

“C’mon, Alpha, give me your pups.” Her release emptied deep inside of you, causing you to groan in satisfaction. She painted your walls white and you enjoyed every second of it, and so did she.

“You feel so good, I need more.” She didn’t halt her movements, no matter the overwhelming shock that coursed through her veins.

“You’re gonna cum with me, okay? Can you do that for me?”

“Y-yeah.” She pulled herself up and grasped onto your hips, pulling you in even further as your legs clenched even tighter around her.

“You see that? That’s how deep I am inside of your needy little cunt.” She pressed against the bulge appearing on your stomach with a wicked grin, pulling you by the back of your neck so your vision lined up with her. You moaned at the sight, reaching out to interlace her hand with yours on the newfound interest.

“Shit, you’re so deep.” There was no warning when her cum shot deep inside of you, some oozing out and dripping down to your butt. You took it as permission to let go, soaking in the orgasmic state you shared.

“This is all I’ve ever wanted, my love, you’re gonna look so precious carrying my babies.” You connected your lips in a hungry kiss, refusing to pull away until you both were gasping for air.

“I- I don’t think I’m gonna be able to stop, you don’t know how badly I want to mark you right now.”

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x reader smut #agatha harkness smut #agatha harkness x female reader smut #agatha harkness x reader fluff #agatha harkness x reader angst #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness #agatha harkness fluff #agatha harkness x female reader #agatha harkness x you

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withacapitalp · 9 months

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Starry, Starry Night Pt 1

Happy birthday dear friend!!! @thefreakandthehair Lex you are a pillar of the fandom, an amazing writer, and just all around one of my most favorite human beings. I'm so so lucky to get to call you one of my best friends and I hope this fic puts a smile on your face!! @stevethehairington and @hbyrde36 thank you for betaing and for encouragement!!!!

Read it on ao3 instead here

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

Steve was asleep at the counter.

Again.

Robin placed another VHS precariously on the top of the pile surrounding him, making sure to adjust it so it wouldn’t fall. A copy of Secret Admirer had toppled down half a dozen boxes when she placed it without care earlier, and Steve had almost woken up just from the sound. She had worked her way through all of the romantic comedy returns and was halfway through the horrors already, and the pile was up to Steve’s waist.

Her working theory was that she would be able to get all the way through the action movies before Steve was completely covered in tapes.

Part of her wanted to feel at least a little bad for fucking with him every single time he fell asleep. After all it wasn’t like Robin hadn’t fallen asleep on the job herself once or twice, and Family Video wasn’t exactly the hardest job in the world. Now that they lived in a veritable ghost town, the store was lucky to get even a handful of patrons every day.

Apart from her own boredom, there wasn’t really any reason to mess with him or try to wake him up.

But there lay the crux of the problem. Robin and Steve had gotten their jobs as one so they could spend time together. Not so Robin could get stuck watching her best friend drool on the counter she would inevitably be forced to clean before they closed tonight.

So, tape fort.

Robin’s theories were almost immediately dashed though, because just as she placed her fourth copy of Rosemary’s Baby down, Steve stretched out his arms, knocking directly into the wall in front of him and bringing that entire cluster of VHS cases down on his head.

“Ow! What! Why?!” Steve shouted, jerking upwards, startling as the rest of the tapes surrounding him began to tumble to the floor.

Robin snickered to herself as she watched the melee, hopping up onto the counter next to where he had been lying his head and beginning to gather up the failed remnants of her experiment.

“Good morning Dingus,” She sang, lightly tapping him on the top of the head with Ghostbusters, “Did you have a good rest?”

“Robin,” Steve groaned, covering his face with his hands and heaving an absolutely ginormous sigh, “Why?”

“Hey, this is your fault,” Robin protested, putting the stack of tapes to the side and sliding to the floor to start grabbing the rest.

“My fault?” Steve repeated, sliding his fingers away from his eyes so he could glare at her while still hiding his face.

“This is the fifth time you’ve fallen asleep on me this week, Dingus,” Robin said, giving him a look as she waved a VHS around her head, “Look at this place. Look at how boring it is. I need enrichment, I’m like a tiger in a zoo.”

Steve lowered his hands, raising a brow and silently judging her for a second before grumbling and joining her on the ground.

“What? Was making paper clip crowns and hiding M&Ms in my pockets not enriching enough anymore?” Steve asked rhetorically, referencing the other things she had done this week during his impromptu naps as he collected the rest of the rom-coms.

“Nope.” She replied, popping the p as she stood, tapes in hand, “Five times, Stevifer. Five.”

“So?”

“So, it’s only Wednesday!” Robin shouted, walking around the counter and towards the shelves, knowing Steve would be following close behind with his own stack. “Is Eddie really still that excited about getting you in his bed every night?”

“You would be the first person to know,” Steve said, wagging his eyebrows and looking far too smug for Robin’s tastes.

That much was true. Steve told Robin everything. What he had for breakfast, any weird customers that came in while she wasn’t scheduled, the stupid things the kids said, and, to the chagrin of both Eddie and Robin, anything and everything to do with his sex life.

And god damn it did her best friends have a lot of sex.

“Okay, so it’s not Eddie keeping you up,” Robin said, a small pit beginning to form in her stomach. She had hoped it was just them fucking like bunnies and Steve needing to recharge during the mornings, but now she was pretty sure it was the other thing, and that was a lot worse.

There was no quick fix for that particular problem.

“You wanna talk about it?” Robin asked softly, turning towards her best friend and trying to be as gentle as allowed.

“Not really,” Steve said, keeping his eyes on the shelves and avoiding her gaze.

Okay, so not gentle. Trying to get Steve to open up was a weird careful tightrope walk between being gentle enough to lower down his guard, while also being firm enough that he didn’t feel like he was being treated like a child. So far Robin was the only one who managed to succeed most of the time, but even she stumbled on occasion.

“You know I don’t mind covering for you, but you can’t keep this up, Dingus,” Robin tried, nudging their shoulders together as she did, hoping that a little extra physical contact would open Steve up even more, “It’s not healthy, and they’re not worth it.”

Wrong thing to say. It was like she could physically see the walls coming back up around him.

“I’ll be fine, Robin,” Steve said, the forced nonchalance in his tone hurting her almost as much as it was definitely hurting him.

“You’re not sleeping again,” She stated plainly, putting it out there for both of them to see. Steve flinched at her words as if she had physically struck him.

“I’m just…still adjusting,” He tried.

Adjusting was still figuring out how the oven worked at Eddie’s new trailer, or trying to find the best routine for sharing the bathroom in the morning. Adjusting was planning work schedules, learning how to live together, becoming used to each other's rhythms.

Whatever was happening here wasn’t adjusting.

“Steve, It’s been almost a month since…” Robin started, trailing off as she tried to find the right words to help him.

Steve already had them.

“Since what, Robin? Since my parents kicked me out?” Steve interrupted, his voice hard and angry as he forced himself to meet her eyes, as if challenging her to try and find a kinder way to say it.

That wasn’t a challenge she was planning to take on. There was no making this better.

“Yeah, since your parents kicked you out,” She repeated, refusing to meet his level of emotion, knowing that would only make Steve even angrier. Sure enough he pushed away from her, stalking over to the counter and furiously punching returns into the computer, a storm cloud of rage swirling around him.

“Steve-”

“God Robin, will you just drop it?!” Steve snapped.

Robin leaned ever so slightly back at his sudden shift and Steve let his eyes slip shut, hanging his head low and taking a slow deep breath. The anger drained from his face, leaving behind only barely there frustration, and a longing that his parents didn’t fucking deserve from a son that was far too good for them.

It wasn’t exactly a shock when Richard and Diane showed up and told their son to pack his shit and leave, but that didn’t make it any less painful for Steve. Robin had never had any faith in them, but for some reason Steve did. He expected his parents to love him just as much as he loved them, and he had deluded himself into thinking that they had only ever done the things they did to try and make him better.

Letting go of that couldn’t be easy, but it was also one of the few things about Steve that Robin felt she would probably never fully understand.

“Please.” Steve whispered, Robin’s heart breaking at the pain in his voice, “I just don’t wanna talk about it, Bobbin.”

Rather than answering she rounded the counter, pressing her body into his side and leaning her head against his shoulder. Steve adjusted to fit her automatically, two becoming one as she let Steve breathe into the pain instead of ignore it.

“Were you at least having a good dream?” Robin asked, her voice slightly muffled by the soft sweater Steve was wearing, wishing she had a way to help him.

“Oh yeah, it was great,” He said with a soft laugh, “I was lying back on a mountain of pillows while Eddie was using his massive thick-”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll be forced to smother you next time you fall asleep at work,” Robin groaned, sticking her tongue out and gagging as she pushed Steve away from her. She hammed it up for extra effect, but she couldn’t hide the smile on her lips as she listened to Steve’s laughter.

He hadn’t laughed as much in the last few weeks, and Robin hadn’t realized how much she missed the sound. It reminded her of everything good, all the stuff they hadn’t really been able to do since he moved in with Eddie. Burning breakfast together, dancing around the house in their socks, even trying to muffle their giggles in her bed so they wouldn’t wake her parents, looking through the skylight that was above her bed at the stars…

Huh. Maybe she did have an idea of how to help.

“Now that you’re awake, I’m going to take my break,” Robin said in a faux casual tone, stretching and trying to hide the Cheshire cat grin overtaking her face.

“You built a tape fort around me because you were annoyed I fell asleep and you were alone, so the first thing you do when I wake up is go hide in the back alone?” Steve complained, turning back to the computer and restarting the returns he had begun.

“Love you too,” Robin said, pecking his cheek as she practically skipped towards the breakroom. She closed and locked the door, pressing her ear to it for a second just to make sure Steve wasn’t eavesdropping before almost bolting over to the phone in the corner, punching in the number for the Thatcher’s Tires and bouncing in place as she listened to the dial tone.

This was a great idea. One of her best.

“Hey Pete, it’s Robin. Can you put Eddie on the phone?”

Part two is coming tomorrow!! If you want to be tagged say it in a reblog!!

#stwgdailyprompt #steve harrington #stranger things #st #eddie munson #steddie #steddie ficlet #st drabble #steve and eddie #robin buckley #stobin #Platonic stobin #robin and Steve are besties #and as besties #robin has an obligation to fuck with him

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