#and i was like no my period is completely regular it doesn't need to be regulated so i want to know what is going on

[thecommunityoftrustworthysinks]

i very strongly believe that menstrual conditions are underresearched and undercared for, and that frequently doctors will prescribe birth control before fully researching the problem, and in doing so ignore necessary diagnoses and alternate treatment plans, often to the detriment of their patients

but i always hate talking about it with certain types of people because it's like

birth control is a good thing and people can go on it for literally whatever reason they want i am pro-people using birth control for anything from just to have sex to literally saving their life, i also simultaneously know that there are health conditions that may not be helped by birth control that need attention they're not getting in our current medical climate because of both historic and current misogyny in medicine

(this is sparked by a conversation i just had with my catholic roommate, not vaguing anyone or anything)

#x #this is also something i personally have experience with because when i went to the doctor for my life destroying periods the first thing #they said was to try birth control #and i was like no my period is completely regular it doesn't need to be regulated so i want to know what is going on #like once we figure that out i'll consider any of your suggested treatment plans but please actually figure out what the fuck is wrong with #me #and it did turn out to be something not often successfully treated with birth control so #like just please understand nuance like #certain medications are not good for every condition i want people to be able to explore their options AND I STILL BELIEVE SAID MEDICATION #IS NECESSARY

[sanctus-ingenium]

we need to talk about Inprnt.com

Following a really good post with more screenshots and evidence by @dynasoar5 i'm going to talk about my own experiences with @inprnt and why I am about to put my shop on indefinite hiatus from Monday the 14th of August.

First of all I'll say that since starting my print shop last year it has been a significant help to me financially - I was able to not worry about affording car insurance or motor tax (together commonly over a thousand euro) when I bought my first car, for example. I am immeasurably grateful to anyone who chose to buy one and I treasure all the pictures I've been sent of my prints hanging up on people's walls. Right now they are displayed in a real (if small) art exhibition in my home town.

(top right print is not from inprnt though)

They're great prints. Never had any complaints about them. But here's what's going on behind the scenes.

Earlier this year, around March or April, Inprnt sales started increasing in regularity. I'd made as much as $600 a week during previous sales when I made proper promo posts here, but with this increase in regularity, I felt that I couldn't make promo posts every single week. And then one day, I'm not sure when tbh, the sale just never ended. It just didn't stop having that "Ending soon! 15% off your order" banner at the top of the site. Right now it says "Final Hours: $5 Worldwide shipping and save up to 35% off your order!" and not even for a second do I believe in this final hours bullshit. It's been 'final hours' for weeks now. Months, even.

Why is this a problem? Well, how tf am I meant to make a promo post for a sale that is always "ending soon!!" and then never ends. One week it'll say "this weekend only!!" and then when the weekend is over, the sale banner just changes its wording and the sale doesn't end. I can't promo this, it makes me look like a liar and a skeevy salesman by association! It makes the site look like it's 1 week from crashing and burning, and the site owners are just scrabbling to suck as much money from artists as possible before they drown.

And they are sucking money from us. To peel back the curtain, Inprnt money can only be transferred to my paypal account 30 days after the sale is made, just in case the order is cancelled and refunded. This means I used to make one withdrawal every couple of months, when there was enough build-up of money to make it worthwhile. It also forbids withdrawing any sum under $50 btw. I would make a withdrawal request and then, after a 10 business day wait, it would reach my Paypal account.

Not anymore! The past few withdrawals have taken over a month to complete. They are straight up keeping my earnings from me for longer the agreed period. This was my last fulfilled withdrawal:

Note the date.

Almost two months.

And here is the latest withdrawal request that still has not been fulfilled.

It's coming up on 1 month and if the pattern continues, it could literally be November or December by the time I fully clear all sales.

So what's going to happen to my print shop? Because my art is currently being exhibited with a QR code linking to the shop, I can't close the shop this week. Instead I will close it on Monday the 14th of August, next week. That means that on the 14th of September, I can withdraw all of the remaining money without having any left over. My account balance will go to 0 and stay there. Although I'll de-list my prints I will leave my account there, because at the end of the day I don't want to leave Inprnt. It still offers the best artist margins and as I'm now unemployed after graduating, the additional support is such a load off my mind. So this is a chance to wait and see - if they improve their services, I'll happily re-open.

It's a big deal to me because selling prints is sort of my ideal life as an artist. I never had the attention span or self-discipline for commission work and I found that it left me creatively stagnant. I always want to try new things, new concepts and ideas, and being able to think "yeah, people will like this as a print" while I experiment is honestly very reassuring. And I know that in going on hiatus, it'll break a lot of "buy a print" links in my circulating posts. Oh well lmao. If you want to buy a print right now - go ahead, it might be your last opportunity. Another way to support me would be to check out my ko-fi for once-off donations or some nice sketchbooks/comics/book samples you can buy, or subscribing to my Patreon.

As of right now, Inprnt owes me $381 (the unfulfilled request submitted above for $186.60 and my current standing balance of $194.80 which takes 30 days from each transaction to clear).

#it's so god damn insulting u know. even redbubble threw its shitty payouts directly into my paypal asap #inprnt

[ssaaaronmontgomery]

Inconveniences

Warnings: Smut, periods, reader is a bit self conscious about periods and period sex, please let me know if I missed anything!

Word count: 1K

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

A/n: I was in the mood for period smut and accidentally made it fluffier than I intended to but that’s okay. There may be some errors because I have not read over it yet but I will when I have more time.

Tags: @greg-montgomery

This post is nsfw minors DNI*

"Wait Aaron.  No we have to stop." Aaron was on top of you and starting to pull your shirt off before you stopped him.  "Is everything okay?" He looks at you slightly concerned.  He's searching your face for something.  "Everything's fine I just- I can't-" you let out a sigh.  "We just can't have sex right now is all." He sits back.  "Honey if you don't want to have sex it's fine.  We don't need to do anything." "It's not that I don't want to, because believe me I want to, I'm just I'm I just-" you trail off and look away.  Clearly embarrassed about something.  

He puts the pieces together now.  "You want to but you're on your period aren't you?" His voice is soft and he tilts his head to the side a little.  You give him a shy nod.  "I'm sorry Aaron.  I didn't mean to mislead you or anything.  I just forgot about it until you went to take my shirt off and I guess I just panicked a little." You stare at your hands as you fiddle with your fingers.  "You don't need to apologise.  We can just cuddle and watch TV if you want."  He's being so kind and understanding which you're not used to.  This happened once before with someone else and they were completely disgusted and annoyed because they thought they were going to have a good time.  

He moves to lay down beside you and face you.  He can tell you're embarrassed.  But he can also see that there's something else going on in your head.  "There's something else bothering you isn't there?" He brings his hand up to brush a strand of hair away from your face before smoothing his thumb over your cheek.  You sigh again and look over at him.  "You're just being so nice about it and I feel bad because I gave you the impression that you would get to have some fun tonight.  And now you're probably disgusted with me." You continued to fiddle with your fingers.  It's his turn to sigh now.  "Sweetheart why would I be disgusted by you because you're on your period?  It's completely natural.  And I see much more blood in my job on a regular basis.  Your cycle doesn't bother me.  You do know that I keep hygiene products here for you in my bathroom right?" 

This surprises you because no you didn't know about that.  He never mentioned it before.  You furrow your brows at him.  "You do?  Since when?" "Since you started spending the night from time to time about four months ago.  I figured you might need some at some point." He's so considerate you're practically looking at him with heart eyes because he's so sweet.  "I promise it doesn't make me uncomfortable at all."

That makes you think.  You look down and see he's still about half hard in his sweats.  "It's not a turn off for you?" "Not in the slightest.  Is it for you?"  "Well no.  But I thought you wouldn't want to do anything once you knew.  Someone else said they thought it was gross and didn't want to after I told them." You looked back down still a bit embarrassed about that encounter even if it was years ago.  "If you're open to it I'd love to make you feel good Sweetheart." He moves his hand to rub up and down your side.  "But I don't want get any on you." You move your gaze back to his.  

He looks away momentarily as he thinks.  "I think we can work around that.  I wouldn't mind it but if you're not comfortable with that we can try something different."  "Like what?"  He smiles and moves back on top of you.  "Tell me if you want to stop at any point okay?" You nod.  He kisses you deeply and you move your hands to tangle in his hair.  He moves his to gently grope your breasts.  He figures they might be extra sensitive so he's careful with his movements on them.  "Can I take this off?" He questions as he grabs the hem of your shirt.  You nod again and he pulls it over your head.  

He starts kissing your neck.  Slowly moving down to your chest and he wraps his lips around one of your nipples making you suck in a breath.  He's trying to get you worked up again.  And he's doing it very well.  He does the same to your other nipple and once he thinks you've had enough he moves back up to kiss your lips again.

He starts rocking his hips into yours.  His clothed cock pressing right against your clothed pussy.  You gasp at the sudden movement and bring your legs around his torso.  He starts grinding harder against you.  You're moaning into his mouth and he's swallowing each one.  You try your best to move your hips with his and he buries his face in your neck to nip and suck there as he groans.  

"Is this okay baby?" He mumbles against your skin.  "Yes.  Yes Aaron it's good.  It feels good.  Can you go faster please?" He obliges and you're moaning louder than before.  Your back arching off the mattress.  "Aaron please.  Please please." Moving against you even harder and faster you quickly come undone shortly followed by Aaron's hips stuttering as he groans loudly into your ear.  

Aaron kisses you again.  It's slow and messy.  Tongues moving together and saliva mixing.  You both pull away panting and he presses his forehead to yours as the two of you come down and catch your breath.  

"Was that a good compromise?" He asks still a bit breathless.  "Yes it was a very good one." He gives a small chuckle and kisses your forehead.  "Please don't be embarrassed about anything Honey.  Especially not this.  Not with me.  Let's get cleaned up and then we can snuggle yeah?" He's running the back of a finger over your cheek again.  It's a comforting touch and he knows you love it because you always lean into it.  "Yeah." You smile at him and he helps you to the bathroom.  

Once you're both back in bed and snuggled up he turns the lights off and the TV on.  Soon enough you've both drifted off in peaceful sleep completely wrapped up in each other.  

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner #hotch #criminal minds #hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds fanfiction #cw periods #cw period sex #aaron hotchner fluff

[pippin-katz]

He Likes You

I was just thinking about this line and how meaningful it is, because it truly is.

Hunith has literally known Arthur for a couple days, but she can already read him incredibly well. Not only does she deduce that he cares about Merlin, she specifically says he likes him.

What’s the difference? Why does that matter?

Think about what you imagine someone behaves like when they like something or someone. They’re usually pretty happy, smiling, and they say good things about it. When it comes to typical behavior, it’s easy to tell when someone likes something.

Merlin likes doing magic, and he shows it when he can:

Think about Arthur though. He doesn’t seem to like anything when you use those behaviors as the evidence. The viewer knows it’s just Arthur’s personality, but from a complete outside perspective, he doesn’t appear to like anything.

He doesn't truly smile that much. He makes fun of everyone he's close to, sometimes even going too far with Merlin in particular.

This is how most people would expect him to act if he likes someone:

But he doesn't act like that on a regular basis. He rarely ever actually smiles like that, and especially not around people.

When he smiles normally, there's an undertone of cockiness or superiority that comes with being the prince and having to behave a certain way in front of others. It's not quite genuine. (The first episode is the perfect example of that.)

Or it's not even really a smile. He's not frowning, and you can tell by his eyes that it's a positive expression, but he's not showing a full smile to indicate that he's really happy.

OR he's got his "public face" on; it's sort of blank, but it changes slightly depending on the context. It's a guarded/doubtful/slightly annoyed look, but it's not a full frown that implies a bad mood. He uses it when he's in court with Uther, when he's bickering with Merlin, and when he's thinking. It's sort of his resting expression.

Uther does the same thing, where he's not really smiling, but you can tell it's a positive expression.

The thing is, you don't need to like someone in order to care about them. Plenty of people care about the wellbeing of people that they don't actually like.

Perfect example: Merlin and Gwen wanting to help Uther despite both having justifiable reasons to want him dead.

So liking someone isn't the same as caring about someone, cool, but what's the big deal with Hunith's line about Arthur? He obviously cares and likes Merlin, why does this matter?

Hunith doesn’t witness any behavior from Arthur to indicate that he likes Merlin, other than helping out his village. But:

This is an absolutely true statement. Merlin may be in denial that Arthur would actually like him, but he’s not wrong at all. Arthur earlier in this very episode voiced his desire to help anyone regardless of where they live. He helps people throughout the show in ways that don’t benefit him: Mordred as a kid; the woman in the tavern who was being harassed; Guinevere when Elyan was captured; the old woman about to be burned at the stake.

Hunith, however, can see through all of that.

What do you do when you like someone?

You care for their well-being

You think of them fondly

You enjoy their company

You want them to be happy

Arthur likes Merlin. He thinks of him as a close friend. He wants to make him happy, and to keep him safe. He wants him around. And Hunith figures this out from a couple days of observing them.

My mind starts to run around, because I wonder what Hunith saw in Arthur during the short period she spent with him that told her that he liked Merlin. His father didn't understand why Arthur cared about Merlin even when he saved his life twice.

It makes me so curious of what Hunith was thinking. You know what they say about mothers always knowing.

#merlin #merlin bbc #bbc merlin #merlin thoughts #uther pendragon #hunith #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #merthur #medieval husbands #two sides of the same coin #the once and future fandom

[weirdsociology]

Distractions (The Mandalorian, E)

Title: Distractions (6.6k)

Series: Part one of Creed, a non-linear series about Din Djarin and his favorite... distraction. 

Description: An artifact from the Mandalorian's past leads to trying something new - and remembering the past.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader

Content warnings: Explicit sexual content, sex toys, fingering, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, oral sex, penetrative sex, implied violence, spit, a touch of size kink, light manhandling, very mild D/s in all directions because we love a switch in this house, no betas we die like men, canon what canon

Tropes: hurt/comfort, idiots with feelings, angst but it all works out in the end, the helmet stays on

Author's note: I blacked out, I don't know what happened, and frankly I'm embarrassed that the first fanfic I've written in 20 years is kind of fluffy and not significantly more insane. This little offering is canon timeline-agnostic; I just wanted to give our armored dumbass a happy ending. Please don't think this reflects my personality, I am spiritually covered in the blood of my enemies at all times. Also there is one small bit of truth from my personal life in here and I'll give you a hint: it wasn't flashbangs, it was bayonets. This one is for @tarabyte3 who got me excited about what fanfiction can do again.

***

Sometimes, it's hard to sleep in hyperspace. A ship this old doesn't have the automated circadian rhythm programs that dim the lights according to species preference, and all the daylight bulbs are second-hand, their blueness dimmed by repeated use. Darkness is in plentiful supply, but that's only half the equation of an artificial night. You do your best, careful to check the time reads on the navigational display, and adhere to a schedule as much as you can. It helps give structure to long periods of transit, and you know that ten years from now, your body and mind will thank you for being careful to guard their rest.

The Mandalorian, by contrast, doesn't have a diurnal cycle as far as you've been able to tell. His sleep patterns are pure anarchy, having nothing to do with mood or physical need. Sometimes he'll spend a week getting no more rest than a few brief, truncated minutes on the ground after trekking in harsh terrain. Sometimes you'll go looking for him after a quiet stretch in flight and he'll be in the bed he calls his rack, completely dormant for the next fourteen standard hours. You don't know how he does it. He lives like someone who fully expects to die before their body has enough years to register protest - which on the one hand makes you anxious, and on the other you find it hard to blame him for.

Still, despite all your attendance to regularity, there are nights - times - when you can't sleep. Especially when you are headed past the Outer Rim, and the length of travel means nothing to do except read and watch holovideos you've already seen and eat stale food and exercise in cramped, artificial repetition. Nothing new to look at, nothing new to do.

Which is how you end up awake at this hour, dressed in nothing but your bandeau and shorts with goosebumps pebbling your legs as you lean over one of the big crates in the cargo bay. You're digging through the thermoplastic case that holds the Mandalorian's personal possessions, looking for one of the old holonovels you're sure he has stowed, when you find it. A smooth, round black cylinder with a cap on each end. At first, you suspect it's yet another esoteric firearm - but then why isn't it in the weapons locker above?

Curious, you gingerly remove the cap from one end. Life on the ship has taught you to be cautious about any unfamiliar object. You don't know if it's normal Mandalorian living style to have to shove aside a mountain of electronic flashbangs when looking for clean blankets, but it's certainly normal for this one.

What's inside isn't like any weapon you've ever seen. The cylinder is filled with something soft and yielding, silicone or plastisilk you think, and it gives disconcertingly when you brush a thumb over it. There's a small bore in the middle about the diameter of your finger, but the polymer feels like it would stretch. It's textured near where the cap would fit, small ridges inside and a gentle flowering of protuberances around the borehole. Almost like -

You stand up, unsure whether to blush or laugh, and snap the cap back on. You've certainly found something new this time; something that might help break the monotony of space travel if you approach the topic - and Mando - correctly. If you're right there should be something else nearby, something that would make this a little more... usable.

There is. A discreet bottle, neatly wrapped in plain paper.

You take cylinder and bottle and step out in the corridor from the bay, checking the location of your fellow crew. Mando is not in his rack or the lockers, which means he's in the cockpit. The Child is in his usual nest. It's late, and the kid should be asleep for a long while yet. You jam the - the toy, you suppose - and the bottle into one hand and climb your way up the ladder, half appalled at your boldness and half delighted at the thought of making your Mandalorian squirm for once. You're secretly hoping to catch him out, tease him with the evidence of his private sexual habits, a friendly nip around the edges of his Creed. 

"Look what I found," you say as you approach the pilot's chair. His head is turned away from you, bent over something in the navcomp, his long legs in front of him as stretched out as they can be in the small space. He hums an acknowledgement and takes a moment to finish entering something before he looks over his shoulder. You offer the cylinder to him flat across your palms, like a knight offering a loyal blade, which you hope is both funny and at least a little charming.

It doesn't work. He's still looking at you. You wave it in front of him instead, resisting the urge to waggle your eyebrows. The helmet drops to consider the cylinder, then you. "I'd forgotten I had that. Where did you find it?"

You stop, hands still outstretched. "Forgot-- your crate in the cargo bay, but... is this what I think it is?"

Mando can't raise his own eyebrows at you, but his chin twitches upward in the way you've learned to interpret is the same thing. "Do you think it's a cock sleeve? Because it is."

"Is that what you call it?"

"I've always been less concerned about what to call it than how to use it," he says. He's fully turned to face you now. The conversation is not going as you imagined. You flush and he gives you an appraising look, taking in your half-undressed state.

"Isn't that... Against your Creed?" How does he do this. How does he always turn the tables. How is it you're the one quailing under the calm scrutiny of his helmet. You'd meant this as a good-natured ribbing, not a come-on, but suddenly you're picturing what you were decidedly not thinking about earlier - Mando, years ago, alone in his rack or fresh from a hunt, with his beskar still on and his arming jacket rucked up, screwing the toy down onto himself with his fist. The thought makes heat pool between your legs. It also makes you a little melancholy. Suddenly you want to fuck him and hold him in equal measure.

"You weren't always here, you know," he says calmly, honest and unembarrassed as he is shockingly honest and unembarrassed about everything to do with sex. He reaches for you, captures your wrists, pulls you further into the cockpit and down into his lap. You thrill as always at his casual possessiveness, his desire to be close. At the breadth of his shoulders under your hands. "The Creed isn't against pleasure, only distraction. Sometimes it's more distracting to make your body suffer than to give it what it wants."

"Like me?" you ask. It's a joke that once would have stung, an echo of your first night together - you are nothing to me but a distraction from my work - but it's an old wound, long since rubbed over by the smooth edges of time and shared affection.

An amused huff through the modulator. "Like you," he agrees, and though the helmet dampers every inflection you now know, where once you only imagined, the statement is fond.

***

You'd been traveling together for months, a reluctant passenger paired with an unhappy custodian. It had been weeks since the first time the tension between you rose to the breaking point, pulling his hands to you like a gravity well. You were now fucking the Mandalorian regularly, enthusiastically, and, at least to you, inadequately. Regardless of how well you took him, how perfectly he fit when he slicked and stretched his way into you, your heart hammered the same rhythm: no room, no room. His attitude toward you had made that abundantly clear. There was no room for you in his life, on his ship, in his Creed. You were his... distraction. That's all.

You mostly ignored it. When you were working or hunting, you barely thought about it. You pushed the thought down and stored it away to keep from slicing yourself on its sharp edges. But there were moments when it pressed forward again, tumbling out of the drawer of your heart in disarray. The Mandalorian was behind you or over you or under you and you were crying out the name you knew him by even as your blood rushed in your ears demanding more. Not more sex, not more of the heavy punch of his hips against you or the feeling of his hands in your hair, but more of him. You wanted him. You wanted everything.

You wanted to know what it kriffing meant when he called you his distraction.

And sometimes, after you had been fucked within an inch of your life and left lying on your bunk or still pressed against the weapons locker, it hurt a breathtaking amount.

You were pretty sure the Mandalorian was not unaware of how he affected you. Beyond that first epithet which became routine, he was not intentionally cruel. Away from the heat that flared between you and his resentment at his own inability to ignore it, he was considerate and distant and respectful. Unfailingly polite. You loathed every moment of it with a growing bitterness that threatened to replace food and sleep. It reminded you of the time you'd run into a recruiter after she’d turned you down for a job. Sorry kid, you had your chance to convince me and you blew it. Except Mando, being Mando, had never given you a chance at all.

It was worse when you fucked. For weeks, you had resolved over and over to put an end to his careful handling of you. Better an angry rebuttal or cold silence than... whatever this pitiful halfway connection was. Next time he approached you with that weight in his step or crowded you into a corner, too close, you would force his hand. You knew that was the time to do it, when you had his full attention and the bargaining chip of your body. You'd seize his wandering gaze and stare into the helmet: "Why do you call me a distraction?"

You had told yourself this a dozen times. But his practiced fingers were already slipping inside you and all you could do was whine as his modulated voice, sounding not quite human, breathed a word that meant nothing to you in your ear: Mesh'la, mesh'la, mesh'la.

***

You had entreated him to show you how he used it, before you joined his crew. Before, as he drily puts it while running a gloved hand up your thigh and teasing along the waistband of your shorts, he had a far superior array of options. Now you're mostly naked in the dim light, seated between his spread legs, his helmet tipped against the headrest as he leans back. You're watching the arched column of his throat, watching his gloved fingers wrapped around the cylinder and most of all, watching his thick cock disappear into the plush expanse of the toy. He's hard but not fully erect, probably because you refused to touch him until you got to see him touch himself. Not that you needed to threaten - you both know that Din, and it's Din now, in the privacy of the cockpit with both of you partially undressed and warmth radiating from him, will deny you nothing where his body is concerned. Except, of course, his face.

His cock is stirring to full attention, and you suspect it has more to do with your rapt gaze on him than his own ministrations. It's a novelty for you to watch him for once. The way you two fuck, he normally has the better view, pulling back to see your cunt swallow his length and hear you moan in gratitude. He likes to watch you touch yourself while you're speared on him, chasing your own orgasm as you clench. He likes to see your thighs tremble when you ride him, and your face when he makes you come too much. "One more, mesh'la, one more for me, let me see you," he'll croon, as one hand worships your sore clit and the other bats away your arm as you try to bury your face in the crook of your elbow. Din likes to watch anything that shows him how good he makes you feel.

Your Mandalorian might be on to something, you decide. Watching certainly has its appeal. You can hear the soft slide of the toy, see the tension in his forearms and his stomach even through his tunic, his breath through the helmet fast but even. He looks gorgeous like this, a warrior half-undone for your enjoyment. You slide the palms of your hands up his thighs and run them lightly along the bare skin peeking through where he's partially shucked himself of armor and clothing. His breathing alters a little, hitching as your skin makes contact with his.

"How does it feel?" you ask, watching the steady rise and fall of the cylinder. You idly trace a finger up his groin and along the sensitive skin just under his sack. He hisses, and you twitch in response to the noise you know so well, your cunt giving a little spasm as if to remind you of its needs.

After a moment, Din answers your question. "Tight, but not warm. Better than nothing but... Like a ration bar when I have a meal right in front of me," he adds pointedly, and one booted foot slides between your folded knees, leather rubbing along the seam of your sex to make his point clear. "I like that you like looking at me, but we could have bought a mirror instead. I could be fucking you in front of it right now."

Your cheeks warm as you think about it: Din, arching over your back, holding your chin, making you watch your own face as he nudges the head of his cock into you. You don't know how you'd feel staring at yourself like that, but your cunt twitches again, letting you know that more important parts of you fully approve of the concept. The helmet has dropped back down. He's observing your reaction. You file the idea away for later. "I like seeing you like this, though. Did you really never use it after you met me?"

A chuckle. "Oh, I used it. Before... when you were first here. I used it so much I think I did permanent damage."

A little shiver of heat winds up from the base of your spine. This is new information. But he's not done. "Which is why I should be allowed to show you how much I appreciate you, not this plastic junk." He makes a show of slowing down, grinding up into the toy and letting out an exaggerated groan. You know he's still watching you closely, waiting for his cue.

You give him a wicked grin. "Sometimes... it's more distracting to make your body suffer than give it what it wants." Din groans for real in response, but you have other things on your mind. "Back before... when you... were you thinking of me?"

He makes an uninterpretable noise. "Oh no, mesh'la, I wasn't thinking of you. Only of your hips. And your hair. And your tits. And your ass. And your cunt, and if I could get you wet for me, and what that pretty mouth would look like around me, and how you'd sound when I put my cock down your throat."

"... Fuck," you say breathlessly. What started as a flutter has become an aching, empty pulse. "Fuck, Din," and you lean forward, bringing your face almost close enough to nuzzle where he's still sheathed in the toy, breathing in his scent. It has the unintended effect of driving the tip of his boot further into you, a solid mass pushing on the thrumming bundle of nerves between your legs.

When you first started doing this, he said very little to you. You could read nothing in his body except desire and frustration, both of which he extinguished in the furnace of your sex. Later, after Mos Eisley, when anger was no longer the single note of your shared existence, he talked to you constantly. The man of few words outside the ship became the man of many words when he was buried inside you. He told you what he was going to do to you, what he wanted to do to you, how good you felt and what you did to him. He talked like he was trying to construct a gilded cage of words you wouldn't fly away from. You had been dumbfounded by the change, shy and unsure, unable to find a way to reassure him you had already stooped to his lure. Part of you was afraid that if he knew the truth - that you'd have him any way he wanted, silent or talkative or babbling in Tuskan sign - he would stop. He hadn't, but the stream had slowed. More deliberate, less frantic. Somehow even more indecent.

He's being indecent right now, timing the strokes of the toy with his words. "I wanted you every morning and twice at night." Down. "I couldn't think - could barely shoot straight." Back up. "I wanted to bend you over the crates and fuck you until you felt the same." A slow slide back down. "Fill you up with me until you cried, until you knew you were mine, until that sweet cunt wouldn't want anyone else." Up, until just the tip of him is still out of sight. He's losing his even tone, the modulator turning gasps into static. "And then I did fuck you, and it got so much worse. You let me pull you open and put my cock in the hottest, wettest place in the galaxy and-- are you really going to come on my boot instead of letting me fuck you?"

You come to with a little start, pulled aware by the abrupt shift in subject. There's dampness under you, and you realize you've been rocking back and forth on his boot, rubbing the folds of your cunt against the worn leather, and moaning into his lap while he talks. It feels so good to be here, sitting at his feet as he strokes himself for you, hearing the jagged details of your shared past transformed by pleasure. The scruff of the boot against you, the bite of a seam into your tenderest flesh, the smell - steel and old smoke and hot sand - so uniquely Mandalorian it has you panting for him.

"Din," you breathe. "Stop -- stop. I want to feel you."

That's all it takes. The toy is gone in an instant, he's off the pilot's chair and dragging you upright and his half-bare hips are against yours, crowding you into the console. His cock is painfully hard against you, already smeared with precum and the lubricant that makes someone of his size using a toy like that even possible. You realize with dizzy delight that this is going to be one of those times where he fucks you without preamble, pushing his way in, making you feel every inch of his invasion. The pleasurable burn of your cunt adjusting to his girth will be revenge for making him use the toy - a revenge he knows you will enjoy.

More leather, this time at your mouth. The feel of his glove as he curls his fingertips under your chin. "Spit," he commands, and you do.

"Good girl. Now turn around."

***

It was after the first time he'd had you in the cockpit that you'd found the courage to ask. It had already been one of the worst days of your life, what more was there to lose? You were so numb there was no cliff you wouldn't jump off, no risk you wouldn't take. If you asked and the answer was indifference, well, it was just one more pain to add to the litany: your cracked lips, your shredded feet, your bruised ribs, your bloodied hands. And soon, maybe, your broken heart.

Mando had left, as he always did, after you were done, leaving you on the steel floor mostly naked and entirely without the desire to stand on your own. You told yourself that you would simply sleep there, if you had to, rather than getting back up on your cut soles. After all, you'd slept in worse places recently. Though you'd meant it to be fierce the thought sounded pathetic even to you.

The sound of boots climbing up the ladder interrupted your self-pity. Mando had not only come back, he had come back with a box: the medkit he kept in a crate in the cargo bay. He knelt beside you on the floor and started to lift you to him, one hand on your back and one hand under your knees. It was close and familiar in the worst possible way, like the fuck wasn't, and you made a hoarse inhuman noise and tried to kick him. You slammed a broken toe into a beskar vambrace instead and then you screamed for real.

He was patient with you and you hated it with every aftershock of white-hot rage in your body. You struggled even once he managed to get you up in his arms. After a bad moment where you thought you might actually try to bite him, he stopped attempting to haul you down the ladder and dropped both of you into the pilot's chair abruptly instead, pulling his hands away like you'd burned him. "Hey, it's me, just me, the one who's on your side," he'd said, attempting a touch of humor, and strangely it was the buzz of the modulator, so unlike the voices you'd been hearing for the past few days, that had incrementally slowed your galloping heart.

The medkit was in reach and at first he was gentle but even that was too much. You pulled away without leaving the chair, putting distance between you and that damned helmet. All you wanted was to rest, except you were afraid of what you might have time to think about if you did. There was a tense minute as he resumed his work with gauze and tape and bacta spray, but even in your exhausted state you somehow felt him make the decision to stop trying to be tender. He took your cue and bandaged you with impersonal efficiency, like you were a soldier in his regiment or a fellow Mandalorian. It made his touch tolerable, and you were so tired you almost resented him for it.

By the time he was done, you were nearly asleep. You heard the click of the medkit closing and, calmer now, a little more returned to yourself, braced for him to lift you down the ladder. But he surprised you by making no move to get up, resting his hands on his legs, around you but not on you. You could tell he was waiting for something but not what. Maybe it was something from you, but you were all out of give. It was his turn.

Another moment of silence, then momentary confusion as you both spoke at once:

"I have to tell you so--"

"Mandalorian, why are you--"

He stopped. You pressed on. "Why are you always calling me a distraction?" Your tone was flat. You sounded like you could be asking about the price of power cells.

The helmet twisted. This was clearly not the direction he expected your post-coital, post-triage conversation to take. "Because you're distracting."

You thought anger might be the only thing keeping you upright. "Not good enough. What the fuck are we even doing here? Why did you come after me? You told me we were done, that you didn't owe me anything. You could have left me there and pocketed the bounty for yourself. They would have let me go once they convinced themselves I didn't have the information.” A lie, but he doesn’t need to know that. “That doesn't sound like I'm just a distraction."

"I said you're distracting, and you are. That's different." You were sure he was being pedantic but your tired brain couldn't keep up with Mando at his most evasive. "You're not just a distraction. I don't make a habit of coming back for-- distractions."

Coming back for was a polite euphemism for the amount of killing Mando had done in the past few hours. None of it mattered to you if he was doing it because of his damned Creed. Maybe none of it mattered at all. Maybe you had kept your mouth shut for nothing. Your chest hurt and you had no idea if it was because of your ribs or because of your heart. You kept going.

"It makes no difference if I'm a distracting fuck or something worth coming back for or a kriffing bantha, Mando. I'm still..." Exhaustion made you blunt. "I'm still against your Creed."

He made a noise that could have been agreement, or negation. "The Creed is not against pleasure. Or companionship. Only... distractions." He sounded like he was reading out of a textbook. You'd heard it all before. You had wrung everything out of him you could about his Creed, because you wanted to find somewhere to fit. That was all he'd ever said.

He surprised you again. "Distraction is a-- it's not easy to describe. It's not as simple as wasting time or effort. Distractions are... things that pull you from your orbit without returning value, like a comet disrupting a planet's path around a sun. Too many and you begin to drift away from the tribe, the Creed, the things that make you a Mandalorian. You lose yourself chasing what streaks past you, already gone."

That little speech was probably the most words you'd ever heard Mando say at once, and there was too much there for you to process in your wasted state. You latched on instead to the thing that seemed most personally insulting, given how you'd been spending your time the past few days. "Maker, Mando, do you think that's all I am, a comet? That you'll turn around one day and I'll be gone? Do you think I did-- what I did– what we did– for fun? Do you think that's all you are to me?"

There, you had said it. Or at least implied it. Your cortisol response gave one last death rattle and suddenly you found you could sit up a little straighter, could feel your pulse in your throat. Your feet ached.

There was a long silence. 

Then the Mandalorian sighed, and in that sigh was more defeat than you'd ever heard after a hunt gone wrong. The sound seized you and squeezed your breath as it stuttered in your chest. When he spoke, it was low, tired, and edged with brutal honesty. "No mesh'la. I don't think you're a comet. Not after... today."

And that, somehow, was what did you in: his surrender. The first acknowledgement of what you had endured for him and what you'd done together and what it meant between you. You dropped your face into the filthy duraweave of Mando's shoulder, not caring if you caught the edge of beskar beside it. Something boiled up in you and you weren't sure what it was, only that you snapped your mouth closed hard over a noise like being struck and fisted your hands in his tunic. All the fear you'd put aside came slamming in, the torrential wave presaged by an empty beach. You drove yourself as close as possible to your Mandalorian and shook as though a blaster bolt had found its home in your brain after all.

When you knew where you were again, you found you had shifted - or he had shifted you. You were curled between his legs, your arms still around his neck, your face against where his cheek would be in the cruel parody of a kiss. You froze for a moment, anticipating the helmet to feel hostile against your lips, but it was only Mando, the smooth silver of him that you'd come to know and expect. With sudden resolve you drew back an inch or two, away from the spot where your  mouth left a sliver of fog. Your heart beat in your ears, marching steadily onward toward its inexorable conclusion. You had always known what you needed to do for both your sakes', and now you even thought you knew the bargain that could make it bearable.

"Mando," you whispered. "If that's the way it is, I wouldn't... I would never ask you to go against your Creed. I couldn't."

The warrior under you was so still you feared he might not respond at all. Then he blew out another long breath and put his hands around your waist, impossibly solid against you. It was the second time that night he'd reached for you with gentleness and, leaning against him, you could nearly imagine what it would be like to feel safe again. It would have been so easy to sink into shared delusion. But you owed him something more.

"I couldn't," you said again. "You couldn't. We could never-- it would never be right between us. I don't want that." You were certain you were crying by then, silent tears racing down your cheeks. "But please... I'm not ready yet. I'll leave tomorrow. Please, please... just give me tonight."

The hands on your waist spasmed, gripping you so hard that for one deranged instant you thought he might throw you down on the steel and fuck you all over again. He did the opposite and hauled you painfully upright, stood you in the tight space between his knees and the console. You winced when your abused feet took your weight. His own posture and the set of his shoulders told you absolutely nothing. He was still holding you like a lifeline.

"No," he said. After everything you'd done it was absurd that one word could make you want to crumple to the floor again, but you stayed upright, nails digging into the console for support. "I won't give you just tonight. I know you. You walked into that warehouse for me. You were so afraid for me you couldn't be afraid for yourself. You bled-- you killed-- because you hoped it would buy me time. I know you. Now you're offering– this. I refuse. You're not a Mandalorian, but your courage puts ours to shame. Who would I be if I returned your loyalty so little of my own?"

"Mando, what are you saying?" You were so numb with exhaustion that you weren't sure you had it in you to hope. You tried to keep your gaze steady, but you knew your eyes were wet.

"Stay with me," he said quietly. You did crumple then, your knees turned to water, and only his grip still on you kept you standing. "Stay with me, and let me prove my honor to you."

"Yes," you breathed, and that was all he needed. He hauled you to him, pulling you down, until your chest was pressed to him as he ran his gloves frantically over your neck, your shoulder blades, your hips. You rested your forehead against his, against the blood-warm beskar, and waited. You wanted nothing more than the feeling of his hands on you but you were so tired. "Will... will the tribe understand?"

A pause. He slowed, but did not stop, tracing soothing heat across your body. The blank faceplate tipped up to gaze out at the desert night. "Some will. Some won't. It doesn't matter. How I feel about you can't be against the Creed any more than my helmet. You can't turn a thing against itself." His head was still turned away, looking past the canopy to the starless sky outside. "You aren't a distraction from my Creed, mesh'la, and you never have been. You're part of it. You make me a better... a better Mandalorian."

His hesitation did not go unnoticed. You heard what he didn't say: a better man.

***

The problem with having sex in the cockpit is that when you want - no, need - to lay down afterward there isn't quite room for both of you between the chairs. Also, the floor is that textured, anti-slip steel they use for gantries, which pokes uncomfortably into bare flesh. You end up squashed together, half on top of your Mandalorian, letting his still partially-armored back take the worst of your combined weight as you roll on to your side and throw one leg over him, pillowing your head on his pauldron. It's not ideal, but after the three orgasms he pulled out of you with as much dedication as he'd ever chased down a bounty, you don't really have a choice. Going down the ladder in your current state might actually be the thing that kills you.

Din is still breathing hard from his own climax, sought only after he'd made you so sensitive that he'd had to put a callused palm over your mouth to keep you from shrieking and waking the Child. He'd started, as you thought he would, by pulling off your flimsy shorts and shoving the thick head of his cock into you with no preparation other than telling you to bend over the console and stay quiet. You'd cooperated, knowing that the position put his mouth conveniently close to your ear, and were rewarded with that smooth modulated voice telling you he was going to make sure you never made him use a toy again, never want his cock in anything but you. He told you he was going fuck you so thoroughly you'd beg for him to let you come on his cock. He'd started rough, his pace matching the coarseness of his words, and you'd bitten down your whimpers at the stretch. 

But Din knew you far too well to let you off so lightly. Fast had turned to slow and deep, caging your hips with one forearm while skillful fingers lightly circled your clit, never giving you quite enough pressure to get you where you ached to go. Then you had begged, and he'd almost given in: pulled out of you abruptly, replacing his cock with three fingers after ripping off his gloves. You'd come so hard Din had groaned at the feeling of you clenching around him, your legs trembling uncontrollably, but even that wasn't what you were hoping for and he knew it. He'd coaxed you to a second orgasm by turning you around and crudely shoving his knee between your legs, making you ride the textured cuisse on his thigh. He'd insisted you work for it, rubbing yourself against him and leaving streaks of arousal on the beskar, and that was less satisfying still. Only after you'd gotten yourself off did he ask you what you wanted, and by then you were so needy, so desperately raw and sex-drunk, that all you could do was whine, "You-- please, Din-- you." The sound of his name seemed to shred whatever last bit of composure he had left, and he'd pressed into you harder than ever as your hand dropped to provide the friction you'd needed. You'd come apart with him buried deep, your cunt gripping him like a vise, and he'd followed not long after, your name on his lips as his cock twitched and softened in you.

The nice thing about steel floors, you decide, is that they're easy to clean. You can feel Din dripping out of you and you're pretty sure you're going to leave a wet spot. You’re also pretty sure that the cylinder rolled under one of the consoles and is still jammed there, but that's a problem for later. You pull yourself even closer to him, enjoying his warmth in the shared quiet, watching the strange false light of hyperspace dance outside the canopy.

You don't notice that Din’s turned his helmet to you until he speaks. “Another 26 hours and then we’re off this boat.” He sounds relaxed, pleased both with your current configuration of tangled limbs and the prospect of no longer being confined to the ship. “Felucia is a jungle world. Plenty of frogs for the womp rat to chase.”

You grin. “Or eat. How long are we staying? Are we dropping in somewhere civilized or staying off the radar? And who are we even after? You didn’t show me the puck yet.”

“Off the radar, and this one’s a solo job.” You start to protest, but he stops you. “Really. The contact says he’s holed up in a cave in the middle of nowhere. We’ll set down in the nearest open spot, then it’s half a day overland to the hideout. No point in you coming, nothing for you and the kid to do but get wet and feed the gnats.”

After space travel, a hike doesn’t sound unpleasant, but you know he’s right. There’s no reason to go to the extra trouble of packing supplies for two more when it’s a straightforward retrieval. At least you and the Child will get to explore your landing site. You can do your work outside in the open air, and if all goes well, Din will only be gone a day or two.

“Hey,” you say softly. “You’ll come back, right?” It’s only half a serious question. You trust your Mandalorian. You’ve trusted his competence and drive and ability since the moment you met him, and have learned to trust that his desire to return to you is real. Still, you always ask. It’s a private ritual between you, something soft built over top of hard truths. 

You think of the times he’s left you. To work a job or on a hunt or sometimes just for the cold, hard recesses of his mind where you cannot touch him. Once, although you try not to remember it, for a black and shaking depression that terrified you both. Most of all, you think of that night, on Mos Eisley. The crunch of sand under his boots as he turned away. The glimpse of beskar through the door. The feeling of his hands on your battered ribs. His voice, very tired, I don't make a habit of coming back for distractions.

"Of course I’ll come back, mesh'la." You’ll never not thrill to Din’s electronic baritone calling you beautiful. "How could I do anything else? You're part of my Creed."

***

series masterlist

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfic #the most interesting part of mando is how his creed doesn't constrain him specifically but requires him generally #star wars #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #this ones owes a lot to a lot of other excellent writers #thank you all for sharing your talents with me #long post #pedro pascal

[max-nico]

Sonic World Building Headcanons

For the soul

Any fic of mine that you read uses all or almost all of these Headcanons btw

Covering your hands and feet is the equivalent of covering yourself for decency. It's taboo to talk about what someone's hands look like if you've seen them before

Fingerless gloves give the same vibe as micro skirts and sheer tops with nothing underneath

All (or at least most) Mobians/anthropomorphic animals start off showing a lot more animalistic traits. For example, young children might sniff each other in greeting or get territorial over their bedroom or house

Children who go to school get taught to use their "grown up instincts" and essentially get trained to be "normal"

There are Mobians who are outliers of course, Knuckles for example grew up secluded on a floating island. Over the years he's learned how to fit in better with the general populace but he still comes off as very naive, or not mentally developed (I probably should just say what autistic look like to neurotypicals huh)

Shadow would be an even more extreme example since he's literally an alien

Because of this, kids aren't allowed to move up a grade if they're smart enough to test out, like Tails. If they did that, they would miss crucial developmental skills specifically targeted toward their instincts

Different types of Mobians need different types of diets. For example, spider Mobians can't have mint period. Whether artificial or real. Unless they had been fed little bits of mint at a young age to build up the immunity by the time they reach adulthood

In the comforts of their own home most Mobians fall back on their animalistic traits. Like cat types purring in the sunlight or bird types preening their feathers

It's rude to refer to people as their species. Not like, super offensive, just rude. (Ex. Shadow refers to Sonic as "hedgehog")

Most Mobians aren't one type of animal, most are mixed between two or more. For example, someone mixed with a jackal and a raccoon. Which one they get referred to depends first on appearance, so sometimes children don't get classified until three or four. If they truly look like a 50/50 split between the two species then they get DNA testing done and are referred to as whichever one is higher

The village Tails comes from is a small village completely comprised of Mobians from the canidae family, small villages being completely one animal family is regular, but cities being this way is unheard-of

Sonic is a famous hero and does have a heavily filled bank account. Not because he asked of course, but because of public outrage when he off handedly mentioned he doesn't get paid for saving the world

Off topic, but Tails manages the bank account because he uses the most of the money. Inventions aren't cheap. Any bills they have are on auto pay so they don't worry about them.

Most Mobians are left handed

Okay, I don't really like humans in the Sonic world. If I had my way the Robotniks would be robins, Maria would be a mixture of hedgehog and bird in a way that's off putting to Mobians but we would think looks cool, that being said she'd be classified as a hedgehog

Anyway, this is not the case and humans do exist. In my head there're three different planets, one with humans, one with Mobians, and one with humans + Mobians

That being said, I think space travel isn't a super regular thing for Mobians to do but it's not unheard of. It's probably just super expensive if anything

Aliens are still fucking crazy to them tho

Some companies/governments (like GUN) span across two or more planets

There's generally a lot of animosity between Mobians and humans but in like a modern day racism (specism??) way and it is not the Mobians fault

Money also works differently Mobians (don't ask me how it works tho I got no fucking clue man), and a lot of the time Mobians just exchange favors for favors

Character Headcanons pertaining to world building

Reiterating: Sonic is famous and gets money transferred to his(read Tails') bank account. Tails village is full of dingos, foxes, jackals, wolves, coyotes, even some dogs.

Most of Sonic's friends are pretty loaded tbh. Obviously team rose, team dark, and team Sonic make the most money, but you know.. details

Very few things tip people off to Shadow being an alien. Like yeah he has canines but he might just be mixed species? He's right handed but some people just are so that's normal. Yeah he might hiss in public but you don't know his life. Maybe he can't control it.

I headcanon Amy as a hedgehog/echidna mix, but she simply looks more like a hedgehog in the face and body, but her quills are what really give her mixed heritage away (I am projecting)

Depending on which continuity you're looking at, Sonic was taught to control his instincts either from an orphanage, his uncle, his mom, or some secret 4 thing I'm forgetting.

He doesn't teach Tails about the whole instincts thing, but Tails has always been in a rush to grow up. He's smart and observant, he's the king of repressing them instead of learning at a slow and more natural pace that won't hurt him in the long run

Cream and Amy are the most socially competent by a longshot. Rouge could be if she, first of all, didn't spend so much time with Shadow and Omega, and also didn't find it funny to act like she does.

Okay, that's it for now. If I think of more I'll reblog the post with another headcanon, otherwise please add your own. I love headcanons, please let me add them to my arsenal. You're welcome to message me or go to my asks box as well as long as your nicest to me <3

I'm eventually going to do a post detailing what I think social media is like in the Sonic world.

If you have any headcanons put them in the tags, reply, or my ask box ! Any character you want me to focus on ? Message me, or hit my ask box ! Suggestions are always welcome .

#sth #sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #i have the mic #shadow the hedgehog #amy rose #sth headcanons #sonic headcanons #sonic fanfiction #sonic fandom #sonic #knuckles the echidna #rrraarrrrr i love them all so much i love sonic the hedgehog come talk to me about it right now rrrrrrrreeeerrrr

[welldonebeca]

Trust Your Doctor (1)

Masterlist

Nancy squeezed her bra strap tightly as she waited for someone to call her name.

The front room was completely empty after the last lady - a pregnant woman - had gone in, and left over five minutes ago.

And yet, Nancy hadn't been called.

The room was in complete silence, so much that was just making her grow more anxious than ever before in her life.

This was the first time she was at Doctor Winchester's office alone. All times before, Mum was just by her side.

Right now, though, she was going to go in alone. She was an adult, after all.

It was a little weird to have a male gynaecologist, but he was highly recommended by her mother's doctor, and was covered by her insurance.

After turning eighteen, she didn't feel the need to go back for quite some time. But now, she was thinking that maybe it was time to get on birth control. That meant that she needed to see her doctor again.

Doctor Samuel Winchester.

"Nancy Sousa?" she heard, and looked up quickly, finding a green-eyed man staring at her.

A nurse in blue scrubs was standing in front of her, looking at her with a little smile on his face.

"I'm Nurse Dean Winchester, are you Nancy Sousa?"

The little brunette's eyes stared at him in awe. She didn't know nurses ever came out this pretty.

"Uh..." she mumbled. "Where do I go?"

"I'll take you," Dean smiled.

She nodded slowly, a bit surprised.

Didn’t they have a specific person at the front desk for those things? 

Why did the nurse have to come to get her?

And his name…

He threw her a look, and Nancy felt her face burning hot as she blushed. 

"Call me Dean, sweetheart," he told her.

She nodded. 

"Mister Dean," she corrected herself. "I've never seen you around before." 

He raised his eyebrows at the question. 

"I'm new," he told her. "Got the job because of my brother, Doctor Samuel."

She looked down at her own hands. Of course. To be this good-looking, he had to be related to doctor Winchester. 

"He told me about you," he said, sounding like he was smirking. "You're even prettier than I thought."

Nancy looked at him with wide eyes, surprised and flustered.

"I'd stare at your pussy for free, and Sammy is paid to do that," he chuckled. "Lucky guy."

She choked on her saliva, shocked, but before Nancy could say anything about it, the door to the doctor's office opened, revealing doctor Winchester. 

"Thank you, Dear," Samuel said quickly. "Come in, Miss Sousa. I was waiting for you."

Nancy stepped through the door with her face still on fire, and sat down quickly in front of the large white desk in the room.

"I hope I didn't make you wait too long," Doctor Winchester shot her a charming smile. 

"Not really," she mumbled. "Uh... the nurse...."

"My brother," he pressed his lips together, looking bothered. "He didn't get the memo that he doesn't have quite that charming of a personality."

She giggled a little, and Sam grinned. 

"I suppose your mother is waiting outside?" he asked, writing something down on his computer.

Nancy shook her head, pushing her hair behind her ears. 

"No, sir, it's just me today," she mumbled.

Doctor Sam hummed a confirmation.

"Of course," he said simply. "A young woman like you needs her privacy." 

She nodded, agreeing. It was a little scary to do this, but he was right. She was an adult now, and should consider herself and be treated as such.

"Alright," he looked away from the screen. "Is there anything you're worried about? Any pain, any lump?"

Nancy shook her head. 

"And your period?"

"As regular as always," she assured him.

He hummed positively again. 

"Any pain during sex I should be worried about?"

She shook her head. 

"No pain and no sex," she mumbled. 

He hummed a little, looking a little intrigued.

Nancy waited for him to say something about that. It was normal, right, for her doctor to be asking her about her sex life? He was her gyno, after all.

"But I'm dating someone," she said, a little too quickly. "And I may need birth control. Soon."

Doctor Samuel raised his eyebrows, and though he was wearing a mask, Nancy could see he was surprised. 

"Well, it is very wise and smart of you to come to me before you do it," he said, finally.

Nancy exhaled, forcing herself to relax.

"Yeah, I... I wanted to make sure I'm doing the right thing," she mumbled.

Doctor Samuel nodded. 

"And are you sure you know what you're doing?" he asked. "That you want to do it?"

Nancy frowned, looking at him, though it was hard to read his expression under the mask. 

Why was he wearing a mask? Wasn't she supposed to be seeing his face before the physical exam? 

"I... I don't know?" she stuttered.

He rested his hands on the desk between them, and she couldn't help noticing how big they were. 

"How long have you known this guy?" he asked. "I mean, I suppose it is a guy, that is the only sort of relationship that demands you to get birth control."

She nodded, a little embarrassed. 

Yes, it was a guy. She had been dating him since before graduation, she trusted him a lot now, he was both her friend and a really good boyfriend. 

"I mean, it's been almost a year?" she answered, confused. "It's enough right?"

Doctor Sam sighed, moving to the computer again and writing something down.

"And do you want the pill, an IUD..." he listed. "Maybe an implant?"

Nancy looked in his eyes, realising he wasn't so sure about the last one. 

"Which one is quicker?" she mumbled. 

"The pill," he told her. "It's the one I recommend the most for someone in your age group."

She nodded slowly. 

"You know, it is the most comfortable one in terms of pain and management..." he listed. 

That made her frown, confused.

"Pain?" she asked.

Sam confirmed, looking a little worried. 

"Well, you know... The insertion and the adjustment period of the IUD and the implant are really hurtful," he told her.

"Oh," she sighed. 

Nancy sat back in her seat. 

"And with the pill, you just have to remember to take it every day," he said, looking like he was smiling with the way his eyes were squeezed.

She nodded, and he chuckled. 

"And if you forget, you'll get a little bum in the oven," he giggled.

Her cheeks heated up in response, and Nancy clenched her hands at the hem of her dress. 

"I should put on my gown," she realised.

Doctor Samuel nodded. 

“You can go behind the curtain,” he told her. “I’ll just write you a prescription and meet you there in a minute.”

Nancy shot him a confused look, but hurried up when he raised her an eyebrow. 

She distinctly remembered how he usually left the room and only came back once her mother told him she was ready. Maybe undressing behind the curtain was the norm, and he was just trying to accommodate mum before?

The short brunette tried to be quick, undressing in a hurry while she listened to him typing something down in his computer, and put the ugly gown on before folding her dress and underwear, placing them on the chair.

“Are you ready, Miss Sousa?” he asked, and she could see his silhouette as her doctor rose from his seat.

Nancy’s eyes widened once she saw him on his feet. She had never realised how tall and strong he was before. 

"Yes, sir."

She watched as he walked around the door and took the things that were supposed to keep her feet up, and swallowed down, a little nervous. 

Doctor Winchester slowly pulled the side of the curtain facing the wall open, and looked at her with soft and sweet eyes. 

“Lay down, please.”

. . .

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#welldonebeca's trust your doctor #sam winchester #doctor sam winchester #sam winchester smut #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x oc #sam winchester x reader x dean winchester #sam winchester x oc x dean winchester #dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x oc #dean winchester x oc smut #dean winchester x oc x sam winchester #dean winchester x reader x sam winchester

[tragantia]

I've been thinking about the 2nd part to my 'Severen during your period' headcanons, aaand the gremlin man himself has taken possession of my mind and won't leave me alone until I write this. Will I succeed at purging Severen from my system? I don't think so.

Also, I know people normally post warnings and stuff, but Severen is his own warning imo.

Severen Van Sickle – NSFW headcanons

As a bi woman, I have the authoritas to say: yes, he´s a bi king. Big bi energy. Doesn´t actually care about what's what, if he likes it, he's gonna get it. Does it have a penis? Great. A vagina? Cute. Both? Fangggtastic. Count him in, darlin'.

That being said, he loves tits. Could spend hours biting, licking, sucking. Play with his too, he likes it and can cum just from that if you're good.

In the same line as Lestat during TVL, I do think in the past he would have found men to be more appealing than women, simply because he would have had more of a common ground with them, and would have found them more interesting. He would still have had sex with women and gone to brothels regularly. But a real emotional and sexual connection? It would have taken a really unusual lady to achieve that.

Which brings me to... Being from the Wild West, he most likely lost his virginity in a brothel, or at least with a prostitute. Unless you count those times when he was still on his early teens and he and another guy would play with each other, almost innocently, trying to see what's what and how it feels, but knowing very well they can't get caught.

He's got a nice dick, not massive but long and thick. Definitely knows how to use it. Has nice big balls too, loves it if you play with them, he himself will caress them if you're giving him head.

He's hairy, it's sexy, and he knows it. Doesn't wash himself much, he likes his natural smell, and likes to smell himself on his partners as a way of showing ownership. He prefers his partners soft and freshly shaved – may even shave you himself and then eat you out.

He knows what he's doing. He's a pro. Even before being turned, he was nothing but an hedonist, and pretty much lived to do risky shit, drink, gamble and fuck. He's easy to sleep with, but difficult to keep. He can fuck you so hard and good that you'll cry, both from pain and pleasure.

He has no shame. I can think of very few things he wouldn't do when it comes to sex, and even then he may try them once to see what it's like. Also he has like, 1000 kinks. I think if he likes you, everything has the potential of becoming a kink. Pretty feet? He's suddenly into feet.

Also really into dirty talking: if he's so crude on a regular basis, you can imagine the kind of filth that comes out of his mouth in the bedroom. Also LOUD.

BLOOD KINK. I don't think I need to explain. He loves to bite his partners, but this leads to them turning... so he is sure to kill all of them afterwards. The other ones have susprised him in more than one occasion naked and completely covered in blood after his last date got out of hand – again.

If he's turned you, this escalates to a whole new level. He's constantly biting you and drinking from you, even when you're not having sex. He loves it too much, and it makes him feel close to you. It's also a sign of ownership – no one else can bite you like he does. So, sadistic: pain is pleasure.

Also a masochist. If you drink from him, get ready for the most pornographic moan you've ever heard – he's gonna cum hard.

PERIOD KINK. Again, no comments needed, but how can he resist when he catches the sweet smell coming from your pussy? Smells like delicious Christmas dinner to him.

He's a dom through and through. He likes to chase, flirt and seduce, and once he's got you trapped between his body and the mattress (or in the nearest surface) he's gonna let you know who's calling the shots.

Saying this, he does have a very playful side, and you could easily seduce him into letting you do all sorts of naughty things to him. If it feels good and it's depraved, he's all for it.

He will be his asshole self and taint you, mock you and bully you through the entire thing though. It's part of his charm. If you manage to shut him up and make him a moaning mess, he would find it sooo hot.

Will fuck you everywhere and anywhere. If there's an itch to scratch, there's a way.

If you don't have a penis, he may let you use a strap on him. Plus points if he rides you making cowboy noises. You know he would make yeehaw noises during sex. C'mon. You ride him? Yee. He rides you? Haw. 100% would refer to himself as a bronco, and to his partner as a mare etc as if already seen in other fics.

He's very dominant, but I think he has the ability of being very silly during sex and still make it really fucking hot. He would make you laugh and two seconds later you're crying and screaming from how hard he's ruining you. The only time when he'll be completely serious is if he's hate-fucking you or marking territory. Also, spanking? Yes, please?

Why can I see him fucking with his sunglasses on?

Loves to eat you out: he eats pussy, dick and ass like a boss. It's not just how experienced he is, he genuinely likes it so much he's simply really good. The way he moves his mouth and tongue is absolutely sinful. 69? Say no more.

Adores it when you give him head. Easily his favourite thing alongside with drinking blood. He will let you get comfortable and then grab your head and face-fuck you. Will take his dick out and slap your face with it, then spit on you, calling you names and making you carry on. Please swallow his cum and kiss him, he loves to taste himself in your mouth.

Filthy. Loves cum swapping. Will make you squirt if you can, then cum inside you, then lick it all up as he eats you out, moaning like the sex crazed maniac that he is. Loves to cum all over you, and doesn't like it when you wipe it off.

A bit of a breeding kink, even if he's unable to get you pregnant. Loves to cum deep inside you and tell you how he's filling you up, how good your pussy or asshole is milking him, what a good girl/boy you are for him.

Won't. Leave you. Alone. Always trying to rile you up for another round. If he's not having sex, he's thinking about it most of the time (like that Buffy episode when she reads Xander's mind lol).

Unashamedly likes porn. He's mostly into dark BDSM material, the kind of thing that was hard to come across in the 80s. Still, if one day you're in a city with an adult cinema, he's dragging you in and you end up giving each other a handjob as you watch the film. He loves it if you're shy about it, he's gonna ruin that innocence.

Exhibitionist. He loves people to see him having sex. He's good and he's hot, he likes to put on a good show. He would also like to take pictures and make short films with you if you're up for it. He once took a video of his partner jerking him off from behind until he came all over his chest and balls, he genuinely thinks it's the hottest thing ever and would soooo post it online if he could.

I think he had a threesome with the pick-up truck ladies before killing them. So yeah, into threesomes and orgies, and will love giving orders to his partners and having them horny for him, answering to whatever he wants them to do. It's all about the power dynamics. Very territorial with his partner if he has one, though. Won't like anyone else to touch them.

But, nothing beats the blood. Vampires are of course sexual creatures, but Severen legit gets hard every single time he feeds.

Loves to watch you being aggressive and brutal. If he watches you feed, get ready because he's gonna show you just how much he's enjoyed the show.

Very touchy and cuddly. If there is an emotional connection, he will pull you to his chest and cuddle you as he smokes until you fall asleep. Can get very soft after sex, but ooonly if he has a partner. If that's not the case, it's feeding time.

He's basically terrible and so much fun. Would be the best sex in your life – if you survive, of course.

I need Holy Water after this. Was this too long? It probably was too long. Now I'm gonna go and cry myself to sleep because I can't have him in this life 😌

#severen #near dark #severen van sickle #near dark 1987 #bill paxton #severen x reader #severen van sickle x reader #severen headcanons #severen near dark #slashers #vampire

[active-mind-15]

I was playing Sky: Children of the Light recently and thought about the Teiko gang + Kagami playing it together

Before I start with my headcanons, I'm sure some of y'all don't know what Sky: Children of the Light is, so I'll explain briefly.

Sky is a social adventure game where you play as a child from the now-desolate Sky Kingdom. Through exploring the seven realms of this kingdom, you restore the light back to the remaining spirits while unraveling the lore of the kingdom and figuring out what happened to it and where all the people went. You can play this game solo if you want to, but it's best played with friends. You can also play with up to eight friends on one server, and the Teiko gang + Kagami is exactly eight people, which works out perfectly! So this post will be me talking about the type of players I think all of them would be on Sky and what type of hijinks I think they'd get into if they decided to play on the same server. The rest will be under the cut. Enjoy!

KUROKO

Very diligent about playing Sky on a regular basis but doesn't play super long sessions unless he's playing with other people. Totally fine with playing by himself since he likes to wander the maps and find quiet secluded places to sit.

But sometimes he also "people watches" in the game and categorizes people based on how they play Sky. Ever since he started people-watching for basketball, it translates into pretty much everything he does, so social video games are no exception.

But when he's taking a break from solitude, he's helping moths (a term of endearment for newbies in Sky) navigate their way through the game and complete quests. There are probably a few he befriends and sees from time to time when he opens Sky, and he kinda feels like a proud parent each and every time he runs into them and sees how much they've leveled up.

Since he's an avid reader I would think he'd be a big fan of worldbuilding and lore and so I think he'd really like exploring the lore of Sky. He follows the official Sky pages on Twitter and YT to keep updated.

In terms of what Kuroko would look like in Sky (since you can customize your Sky kid's outfit and hair), he would dress very simplistically. His fit would almost always be something from the regular accessory constellations. Nothing flashy or out of the ordinary. The only non-default accessory he consistently wears is a pair of sunglasses he got during one season (a season is a period where you can do limited-time themed events and be able to get special cosmetics and emotes). He's pretty frugal in-game, so even though he has a fair number of candles (the in-game currency), he doesn't spend it that much. And the things he spends it on are small accessories and other trinkets.

Somehow, his Misdirection translates into Sky as well because most people really don't notice him, so it's pretty difficult for him to open special doors that require the help of at least two people. That's why he always befriends people who notice him. He knows that they've got his back and he's got theirs.

In Sky, you can also leave messages for other players to read. They usually take the form of paper boats or cranes you can place in any body of water in Sky, and you can write whatever you want on them (within reason of course). So, I can imagine Kuroko would always leave encouraging messages for others like "Don't give up!" and "You can do it!" Those messages always get so much attention, but nobody ever knows who writes them.

KAGAMI

Is almost never on by himself. Most of the time, he's online when Kuroko is online and they do quests together.

Since he's more of an infrequent player, he's often confused about certain aspects of the game and will need Kuroko to help him out.

He likes the game for the pretty scenery and nice music but doesn't really engage with it on a deeper level since he's not super informed about The Lore™. As a result, he's constantly asking Kuroko for explanations as to why certain things in the game are happening.

The rare times he is on by himself he's kind of awkward in navigating the maps and making friends. I would say he's more of a moth than anyone on this list, which means that whenever he's by himself, other players feel more inclined to help him out, which is how he kind of gets adopted by multiple different players. He would log into Sky and check his friend constellations to find that multiple people have gifted him light (you need light to be able to forge hearts which are a more valuable type of in-game currency that buys you more extravagant cosmetics compared to candles).

I would say he often gets sidetracked while doing quests. He'd see somewhere that he hadn't explored and drop everything to go check it out.

The way his Sky kid is dressed is a mixture of regular and seasonal cosmetics that he's managed to snag. He always tries to make himself look cool on Sky, so he cares a little bit more about his appearance because of that.

He is perpetually broke on Sky. Almost always less than 10 candles to his name. So when the time comes for him to buy a cosmetic that he really likes, he's constantly having to hustle last-minute and collect enough light around the kingdom to forge candles.

KISE

Either plays by himself or with the rest of the gang however he much prefers company and is not above pestering the others to come online and play with him.

Also a regular player because the game is cute and fun for him. He probably plays it a lot while he's on break during a modeling session or during lunch breaks at school.

He knows the basic lore of Sky but doesn't go any further. He's not one to create theories like that because he also kinda takes it at face value.

He's the type to unlock all the nodes in his friends' constellations so he can do cute things with them (unlocking friendship nodes means you can initiate gestures with friends like high-fives, hugs, piggyback rides, and more).

Because he's so used to being followed and chased by fangirls due to his modeling career, he likes the anonymity of Sky because it gives him the freedom to approach and chat with other players as an equal.

He is the flashiest Sky kid out of everyone. If he's not grinding to get all the seasonal cosmetics, he's using real money to splurge on some of the cosmetics you can't buy with in-game currency. The others sometimes are embarrassed by how much he sticks out, but Kise never lets that deter him from being the most fashionable person on the server.

He also likes leaving messages in paper boats, but they're usually generic messages like a "hi!" with a bunch of emojis. Anyone in the gang who finds his messages will screenshot them and send them to Kise via text to let him know that his messages have been spotted.

MIDORIMA

He plays this game on and off, but when he's on, he's on.

He usually plays with other people since he's more likely to play if there's a group session, but it's not uncommon to catch him doing quests by himself or simply just exploring parts of the map he's never been to before.

He strikes me as someone who'd be super deep into Sky lore and making his own theories. But his tsundere ass would pretend like he's not into it and swears that he only got this game because Kise and Momoi begged him to, even though there are too many occasions of other people in the gang asking if he wants to join them to do daily quests and Midorima responding that he's already done them, and everyone wises up that he likes the game far more than he lets on, but they don't call him out on it.

He only bothers playing with actual friends. He doesn't really interact with other strangers on the server. So, if he's on Sky by himself, he's truly just doing everything alone. Any nodes unlocked in his friendship constellation are unlocked by other people in the gang. He'd rather die than use his candles to unlock a hug emote with any of his friends.

Since there's a set limit to how many candles you can forge per day (there's a limited amount of light you can collect across the seven realms to forge candles and it refreshes daily), he takes note of where the biggest/most candles are and remembers that if he needs to forge a bunch of candles in a hurry but doesn't have time to collect every single fragment of light across all the realms.

In terms of what Midorima's Sky kid would look like, he'd be dressed very smartly. No matter what outfit he has on, he always seems to look like a scholar of some sort. Even his hair is well put together. He's not one to shy away from seasonal cosmetics, but they're not the over-the-top outfits like Kise would have on. He dresses a lot more modestly like Kuroko but not in that "default setting" sort of way.

He sometimes hoards spells (in Sky, you can purchase/be given spells that can allow you to give your Sky kid temporary boosts or powers like recharging your wings faster, making you taller or shorter, or even giving you a different outfit. These spells can also be shared with friends if you hold their hand while activating them.) He sometimes uses the outfit spells as a test run to see if something looks nice on him. And if it does, he'll save up enough candles to buy the real thing.

AOMINE

Very infrequent player. He'll log on once to wreak havoc all day before disappearing for weeks at a time.

He never plays unless someone else in the gang is also online. Especially if it's Kuroko.

Doesn't give a fuck about the lore at all and because he plays so infrequently he never has any idea what goes on.

He also doesn't have that much winged light (the more winged light you collect the more energy you have to fly) but somehow he manages to explore just as well as everyone else in the gang. It's kind of impressive.

He has no problem charging into the more dangerous areas of Sky. In fact, it would be better to say he likes to get himself into danger on purpose for that sweet, sweet adrenaline rush.

In terms of what his Sky kid looks like, I would say he also has very default accessories like Kuroko, not because he prefers them but because he's so infrequently online that he never earns enough seasonal candles to buy specially-themed accessories. However, trust and believe he will still make do with what he has. He seems like the type of person to prefer all the goofiest-looking cosmetics like beards and bushy eyebrows. It almost annoys the others how unserious his Sky kid looks at all times, but he never pays them any attention.

Sometimes when he's bored he'll try and exploit glitches in the game to see what they do or to try and get into an inaccessible area of the map.

MOMOI

Another frequent player. She loves this game DOWN. After school, she likes to get cozy in her room and hop online.

She enjoys playing both by herself and with the rest of the gang, she's not biased toward one or the other.

She really enjoys the lore of Sky and does things like analyze the appearance of each realm so she can make theories. I bet she has a notebook where she keeps track of all the lore and her interpretations of it. She exchanges theories with Kuroko a lot. Also Midorima, too, but he'll pretend like he's not interested in it.

She mainly likes to play with the rest of the gang but she's not opposed to making friends with a couple strangers on the server here and there. Sometimes if nobody from the gang is online, she'll do daily quests with these other players and sometimes add them to her friendship constellation.

You will never catch her broke on Sky. She does regular candle runs to replenish her earnings (going on a candle run means you travel through all the realms and collect all the available light so you can forge it into candles. You can typically earn about 20 candles in a day if you do a full candle run). She is probably the most consistent with gifting friends light and hearts, too. She's also the best person to ask about upcoming seasons and other Sky-related info since she follows the developers and the official Sky page on YouTube and Twitter.

Her Sky kid is the prettiest out of everyone's. Since she's such a frequent player, she has a bunch of seasonal cosmetics that she loves to alternate between. Every time the others see her, she's in a new outfit. She's just constantly decked out to the nines. She and Kise sometimes coordinate their outfits.

She has accumulated a lot of placeable props in her inventory (placeable props are decorative or functional items you can place on the ground in Sky. They could be anything from a cushion to a swing set.) She also loves to make shared spaces (shared spaces are little shrine areas that you can create and decorate as your space using props you have acquired. These spaces can also be accessed by other players). Her shared spaces are always cute and well-decorated. She likes to create them in secluded areas of the map so she and the rest of the gang can just hang out in those spaces together away from everyone else.

MURASAKIBARA

Not a super frequent player but more active than people expect. I peg him as a fan of cozy games.

Most times he prefers to play with other people, but sometimes he will have days where he'll just go off by himself and get up to God knows what.

He loosely follows the lore but doesn't really care about theories the way some of the others do. He doesn't really play Sky to think too hard about anything. He mainly just plays it to take his mind off other things.

Candle runs are so much work so sometimes he waits for others in the gang to come online before doing them for the sole purpose of holding onto their hands in-game and letting them do all the work on his behalf.

He loves accepting gifts of light and hearts but almost always forgets to return the favor. Kise complains about it the most.

His Sky kid is surprisingly well put together. When choosing hairstyles, he'll always go for the longer-haired ones out of habit. He sometimes likes wearing the pigtail hairstyles, too. In terms of cuteness, his Sky kid is second only to Momoi's. You will never catch him lacking when it comes to outfits.

He likes to antagonize Kagami when Kagami shows ignorance in something related to Sky. A simple "Huh? You didn't know even this much?" would be enough to send Kagami spiraling for ages. It's a very hilarious sight to see walls of text above the head of Kagami's Sky kid as he argues with Murasakibara through the in-game chat function.

AKASHI

Another unexpectedly frequent player. It's a refreshing change of pace from his busy life.

He has fun playing solo and playing with friends, and it astounds the others what he can get up to when left to play alone. He could probably tackle some of the more dangerous realms singlehandedly.

He is another person big on lore and exchanges theories with the other lore fans of the squad, focusing on even the most minute details of the map and the characters to make inferences. Sometimes he'll think of theories that the others hadn't even remotely considered. He also follows the official Sky page for updates, too and will (along with Momoi) be one of the first to know about new Sky-related info.

He has the best control of his Sky kid while flying out of everyone. He's just really good at maneuvering tight spaces or windy currents. Also really good at diving. The others never have to worry about him if they're traveling around the map. It's actually them who have to keep up with Akashi.

He's not one to officially befriend a lot of other players per se, but he does use the common areas scattered across the map to talk to people sometimes. He enjoys the idea of being able to approach whoever without worrying about people being intimidated by him. Being able to just be treated as a regular person feels nice.

His Sky kid is always dressed so stylishly. Not too flashy like Kise but not too proper like Midorima. Akashi lets himself get creative with the outfit coordination. He especially loves the different masks you can wear and loves collecting those the most.

You can also have instruments in Sky that are actually playable, so during group gaming sessions, he likes to sit down and play songs for the squad. You can either go buy the sheet music you can unlock through constellations or you can just play whatever random notes you like. Either way, Akashi finds a way to entertain his friends.

HOW WOULD THEY ALL PLAY TOGETHER AS A GROUP?

First of all, Akamomo as the canonical activity planners of their friend circle would be the ones to reach out to everyone for availabilities so they could arrange a group gaming session.

Most of the time they do full group sessions during new seasons where maybe new parts of the map are unlocked and they all get to discover it together.

Aomine is usually the one who puts everyone else's safety at risk in the more dangerous realms. There are a few realms with dark dragons that knock winged light out of players if they spot you, and Aomine sometimes deliberately provokes them. Most of the time he isn't able to dodge, which leaves everyone else to grab his winged light for him after he gets knocked out.

Sometimes Murasakibara disappears mid-game to go grab snacks so you'll see his Sky kid just snoozing while he's inactive.

Kuroko, Momoi, Akashi, and Midorima have fixations on cave paintings in Sky and will sometimes spend several minutes going back and forth on theories and interpretations of lore.

On occasion, after all of their daily quests are done, they like to find secluded parts of the map to just chill and talk. They like utilizing Momoi's shared spaces for that specific purpose.

Sometimes Kise manages to convince everyone to coordinate their outfits,

Kagami constantly has to be saved by the Teiko gang members when he runs out of energy to fly, and it humiliates him to no end. Especially if Aomine ends up saving him because he hates owing Aomine favors.

Kuroko loves using the high-five emote a lot, especially with Kagami and Aomine.

Kise refuses to go into scary parts of the map unless someone holds his hand in-game.

Aomine will sometimes break off from the group and come back holding a crab that he picked up from who knows where.

Akashi is the one who scopes out an area for potential danger first before letting the others start wandering around. If he feels like somebody in the group is about to be in danger, he'll start calling out to them to come back.

Midorima is constantly shepherding the others whenever they get distracted from doing their daily tasks. He will always make his annoyance known whenever the rest of the group is not doing what he thinks they should be doing. He sometimes enlists Momoi for help.

All in all, they're chaotic as fuck when they play altogether, but they admit that it makes everything all the more fun.

#okay i've written enough i need to get outta here #i'm falling asleep as we speak #but at least i can finally take this out of my drafts #ive had this post in there for at least a week #but after this i may add more sky cotl headcanons on a different post #because this was fun #i love talking about knb and video games they would play #anyway i hope yall like this #sky children of the light #sky cotl #kuroko no basket #knb headcanons #kuroko tetsuya #kagami taiga #kise ryouta #midorima shintarou #aomine daiki #momoi satsuki #murasakibara atsushi #akashi seijuro

[peter-quill-is-so-fine]

Pairing: Quill x (GN) Reader

⚠️ DISCLAIMER ⚠️ : THIS FIC IS ABOUT PERIODS. THE READER WILL BE REFERRED TO WITH EXCLUSIVELY THEY/THEM PRONOUNS, BUT THEY DO HAVE THEIR PERIOD IN THIS FIC. WOMEN ARE NOT THE ONLY ONES WHO HAVE PERIODS.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1K

Plot Summary: Y/N gets their period and turns to Peter for help.

Y/N was in despair.

They had entered the bathroom, only to realize it was, once again, that time of the month. Of course, since they were no longer on Terra, they had trouble keeping track of what day it was there. Since the times on the planets they visited with their fellow guardians of the galaxy were completely inconsistent, they were more focused on molding their schedule to fit into the planets they visited than on when their period would show up. When they realized it had come back, all they could think was, “Already?” Then it hit them. All of their period products were in their room. What were they going to do? They couldn't get up to go get them, otherwise their- by some miracle- spotless underwear would be ruined. They could always use toilet paper, but it was never truly effective. The idea hit them like a train on a track (yes, that was on purpose.) “Peter!” they yelled out.

Their best friend in the whole entire galaxy, Peter Quill was the only one they trusted to enter their room. Lucky for them, he just happened to be in the next room over. They waited, rather impatiently, for him to yell in reply, but no reply came. “Peter Jason Quill!!!” they shouted, hoping he'd notice they used his full name. “Don't call me that, Y/N M/N L/N!” he retorted almost instantly.

“Peter, can you do me a favor?”

“That depends on what it is, Y/N.”

“Can you come here?”

“You want me to come into the bathroom with you?”

“NO. Just- come here, man!”

Silence followed Y/N’s command, and footsteps came right after. They heard Peter speak, now at a regular volume. “What's up, asshole?” Y/N hesitated, trying to find the right words to explain the situation. “Well… I can't really get up, but I need something from my room. Can you get it for me? Please?” they pleaded. “Well, that depends on what it is,” he replied. “It's under my bed. In a box. It's wrapped in orange plastic. Don't open it, just hand it to me” Y/N instructed. “Well… alright.” Peter said as he walked away.

Y/N waited. Even though they trusted Peter, they couldn't shake the feeling that he'd mess up somehow. It wasn't that they thought Peter wasn't capable of getting it right, it was… well it was that. They waited anxiously for his return, as what seemed like hours passed. He returned, opened the door, and stuck his hand in, holding the pad. Y/N breathed a sigh of relief, and put it on.

“What is that thing, anyway?” Peter asked Y/N as they left the bathroom. “It's a pad,” they replied casually. Peter gave them a puzzled look. “What the hell is a pad?” he asked. “It protects your clothes when you get your period.” Y/N explained. “OH! I know what those are!” he exclaimed, seeming excited to know what Y/N was talking about for once. “My mom explained them to me!” he clarified, grinning. Then it dawned on him how his mom will would always be in pain when she had them, and how she explained that they were usually very painful. His grin vanished almost instantly.

“Wait- are you okay? Do you need anything?” “Aww, I'm okay, dude,” Y/N reassured him. “It just hurts a little bit. That explains why I was in pain all morning, now doesn't it?” they joked. Peter did not find it funny. He cared deeply about Y/N, and seeing them in pain just about broke his heart. “No. Come on, I'm going to take you to your room.” he deadpanned. “Wait, wh-” Y/N was cut off by Peter, as he grabbed them by their waist and lifted them up before they even realized what happened.

“Okay, do you need anything else?” Peter asked after he had put Y/N in their bed, and gotten them water. “I didn't need anything in the first place, Peter.” Y/N replied coldly. They were still in shock from getting carried by Peter. There was something about it that made them feel like they were going insane. They were blushing the entire time, and Rocket making fun of them while they were on the way didn't exactly help.

“Come on, let me take care of you. Please?” he practically begged. “Well… fine. I don't need anything else, but… can you stay?” Y/N wanted him to stay, more than anything. They liked it when the two of them were together like this. They loved being with all of the guardians, but there was something different about being with Peter. They couldn't explain exactly how, but they knew they liked it. It was the kind of different that would make even those who despised change feel open to it. Even though the guardians are all the same when it comes down to it, he felt different to Y/N somehow. When they asked that question, Peter, who was frowning at the time, smiled. It was nice to feel wanted. “Well, of course!” he answered.

They had been talking for what felt like minutes, but was actually hours. One thing led to another, and eventually they were laying side by side, laughing at each other's jokes. Y/N yawned, and Peter looked at them almost lovingly. “Well,” he sat up, looking down at Y/N. “I should go, you're tired and you need your rest.” he told them. “Noooo…” they whined, their tiredness becoming more prominent by the minute. “Please stay, Pete.” Y/N pleaded. Peter laid back down in defeat, and almost instantly felt Y/N wrap their arms around him. It made him feel warm. The kind of warmth you would feel after coming home to freshly baked cookies. At first the sudden touch made his whole body stiffen, but then it was as if he melted into it.

He had never felt this way about anyone before. Not about any of his friends, not about any of the people he'd slept with. He didn't know what this feeling was. All he knew was that it was new, and he liked it. But, of course it was platonic. Like advanced friendship. Right?

(A/N: don't you just love it when people are oblivious to their own feelings? I don't. But it's fun as hell to write! ☺️)

Part 2 here

#gotg #peter quill #star-lord #peter quill x reader #star lord x reader #peter x reader #i wrote this exclusively in lines at disneyland. #start clapping. /j #period fic #fluff #yeah. i referenced dog days #yeah. “advanced friendship” is also a reference.

[hummingbird-hunter]

Anyone who has ever said stuff like "culture outside of politics" in regards to russia and spreading russian art/media/music/etc. — kindly, educate yourself.

If you refuse to educate yourself, kindly go fuck yourself.

First of all — a little bit of history lesson. Russia is an imperialist state. Always has been. Over the course of its history (russian empire, the ussr, whatever names it held at any given time period) russia has colonised countless Eastern European and Central Asian nations. Over 90% of russian "culture" is culture stolen from those nations. Ivan Aivazovsky, Kazimir Malevich? The artists I bet you thought were russian? Yeah, they're Ukrainian; and that's only two I can name off the top of my head.

But sure, let's say the art you're sharing is really russian; what's wrong with sharing some art? The war is just the politicians fault, and can you imagine if someone had tried to "cancel" British culture like this for all the atrocities they've done???

Well, I'm sorry, I can't seem to remember Britain committing any genocides in 2023. Use your head — you're you're using the same "separate the art from the artist" argument — there is literally no way to do it if the "artist" is alive and profits from it! And russia does profit: of course there're music and movies and video games, profits from which are literally going to help create weapons to kill Ukrainians; but that is already obvious. No, I want to tell about how russian "culture", "art", things that don't bring them money still are helping russians in their invasion.

It's all about popularising and media presence; it is about making you believe that politics are completely separate from other aspects of life; it is about gathering sympathy for "poor russians" whose government is at fault, and they're just people: with history (colonizing), culture (stolen), their lives (which are, apparently, worth more than the lives of Ukrainians).

It's about spreading the propaganda that regular people are not at fault, that it's the government, that it's only one man responsible for the entire war, that real people are against it! And the more you believe that — the more you begin seeing russians as being victims instead of oppressors, and the more you begin to undermine Ukraine's fight for our lives — "how can we sanction russia, there are poor people living there", "how can we give Ukrainians weaponry, they're killing russians!"

Here's the thing: russians are not against the war. They're not afraid to revolt because they're scared for their lives. They're the ones in tanks, with guns in hands shooting civilians and bombing hospitals. They're the ones sitting in the comfort of their homes writing on social media how Ukrainians deserve to be raped and murdered simply for being Ukrainian (you don't see a lot of that — it's in russian. But a lot of Ukrainians know russian, so we do. We share it, too, for you to see it — but you don't want to)

And those "apolitical" russians, who don't claim to support the war, you know what they do? They take "aesthetic" photos of Mariupol — a Ukrainian city, completely burned down by russians. They call it "doing whatever they want in their country"

Even the most "liberal" "anti-war" russian doesn't think Crimea is Ukrainian.

But of course, you don't want to listen. You want to pretend that russians don't protest because they're scared for their lives, and you want to continue to consume russian media uncritically, because you think that if russians will have to face consequences for their crimes, then you, American or British will have to do so as well.

You should be thinking "my country did terrible things, that's why we need to learn from our mistakes and don't let anyone else do those things", but instead you're thinking "my country did terrible things and experienced little to no consequence, that's why we should let other countries do the same!", and it shows.

#russian invasion of ukraine #russian imperialism #russia is a terrorist state #war in ukraine #ukraine #russia

[bubuslutty]

Arthur (inception)

character taste test

warning: nsfw (x gn reader)

okay I watched the movie and read like 2 fanfics so far on ao3. but what's worse is that this happened while I was on my periods and I was going feral and I think I imprinted on Arthur and Eames??? ? but mostly Arthur for some reason cuz I had this weird dream of the actor before watching the film. like I have only seen him once in this random movie as background noise while I was on holidays but I still managed to dream abt him and it's terrifying. 

this is going to be horny because that's what I'm feeling tonight. so buckle up, ladies. 

Arthur.

The most memorable thing about him, to me, after his beautiful face and voice, is how he works. He's good at what he does. He's smart. He knows what the hell he's doing. 

And maybe in some universe, I think he's also the same way in bed. When he's in a mood. I'd like to think he'd laugh and giggle a bit with his lover while they're making out and half naked, y'know. If they actually love each other and not just regular fuck buddies. 

But then he'd try to wipe his smile away from his face, he'd wanna be serious about this, so he tries so hard to stop giggling so he can focus on opening his lover up on his fingers. 

"Alright, that's enough. Let me do my job." He says, trying not to grin. 

But also, what if he's extra moody, what if he's a bit mean? Then what? 

Then Arthur would play his lover like a fucking guitar. He's not going to waste any time teasing them or anything, he's going to dive straight in, use his hands, mouth, cock, toys, whatever’s needed to reduce his darling to a whimpering, shaking, drooling mess. 

And what if they cried a lil? Overstimulated and completely out of it while he still speaks to them in that gentle, yet stern voice? "Look at me. How do you feel? Can you tell me how you feel?" 

He'd deffo wipe his lover's tears away while gently shushing them, will already have a box of tissues close by, wiping their face and giving them little kisses right after.

But also, I think he can be lazy in bed. You know, he's out there, doing jobs to get that bag so he can come back to his penthouse, sleep in for half of the day or more to recharge because he's just so fucking exhausted. And when he wakes up, he loves having his lover close so he can reach them, just pulling them in with his hand wrapped around their wrist. 

And then he's going to give them slow, slow kisses, all over, while telling them how cute and lovely and beautiful they are, cupping their cheeks while they're sitting on his lap. And when he's done, he'll pull them in, whisper in their ear how he'd like to fuck them. 

"Let me fuck you, honey." 

He'd probably hug them close to his chest while they ride him, will buck his hips a couple of times, just touching them and groping them all over, practically just allowing himself to be used like a toy even though he asked to fuck them, he sure isn't doing much fucking. But it doesn't really matter because his lover is obsessed with his cock, just gasping and moaning while he's panting and whispering unintelligible words in their ears, maybe he's praising them for being perfect for him, maybe he's telling them how grateful he is to have such a wet tight little hole to fuck into waiting for him at home.

He cums with his head thrown back, eyes screwed shut and his Adams apple bobbing. Then his eyelids droop and he yawns, ready to go back to sleep, sweaty and sticky with cum. His loved one is still on top of him, his cock still buried inside them. And if they somehow haven't came as well, Arthur lays on his back and drags his lover with him, chest to chest, stomach to stomach and he reaches down their body, over the dip of their waist and the swell of their ass to reach their wet hole to shove his finger inside and make them cum against him. 

When they cum for him, he gives them one kiss on the forehead, sucks his own fingers clean and goes straight back to sleep, all filthy, sticky and naked with no care in the world. 

During those days, Arthur is lazy, allowing himself to just exist without having to worry about anything while he recharges to go back out there in the real world and risk his life for thousands of dollars so he afford a penthouse above the clouds and city.

a/n: that's all I have for now. how did I do? :))

#bubuslutty writes #Arthur #Eames #arthur/eames #arthur #arthur inception #Arthur (inception) #Arthur x gn reader #inception fandom #inception #inception project series #eames inception #inception fandom is the best fandom #inception fanfiction #Arthur (inception) x reader #Arthur (inception) x y/n #Arthur (inception) x you #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #inception 2010

[vintage-tech]

further thoughts on old sewing machines

I've read the replies and comments on the thing I reblogged about sewing machines and planned obsolescence / "they don't make 'em like they used to." You know me, I have more words to offer, and the basis here is the people saying "damn, I want one", "wow, how can I get one for reasonable?" and "you can get parts?" Read on...

First, let me show you what my friend sent me yesterday in a text. She was so jazzed that she wanted me to see it, and she doesn't even know I run a blog like this.

So here you see a White trundle sewing machine from the late 1910s to early 1920s. You can also see that it was either taken very good care of or completely restored, or both, and you have little doubt in looking at the first picture that it'll put together a prom dress or hem your cuffs at a moment's notice, and this isn't just a museum piece. In the below, I'm not just talking about the big ol' centagenarians, I mean pre-1990 Singers and everything inbetween.

You ask: Where can I find a hardy old sewing machine? The obvious answer of antique stores aside, you can find them in thrifts. Not necessarily Goodwill because they're capitalists who have tried to get away from furniture and heavy stuff, but most of the others have them and I warn you that you may have to cut a bitch (or be cut) if one shows up at Deseret Industries. I wish I still had the photo of the time a now-departed St. Vincent de Paul near me had TWO different White models on the floor, each for less than what some people pay for Starbucks in a week, and my memory says that if they didn't spin like a top right that second a couple hours with household products and maybe a Google search plus shipping time would have these things in a functional state your great-grandmother would approve of. It's a regular thing that I go into thrifts and there's a sewing machine case on a low shelf near the electronics that is older than your mother and twice as reliable.

You ask: How much will this set me back? Depends upon where you're shopping. Obviously antique stores will have them for more than thrifts, and sometimes you find them at estate sales (again, expect to cut a bitch) for either an antique price or a "take it away" solid price. Consider it a great day if you spend $10-$25 to get this off someone's shelf and out of someone's life.

You ask: Repairs and maintenance, what about that? I don't know a lot about the mechanics but the older they are, the simpler they get. Resources are out there on how to fix problems (books and YouTube videos) and obtain parts, and professionals exist who live to do both. You probably know someone who has machine sewed for decades; you could ask them for insight on how to get things back into shape. People in comments on that post named some sources for replacement parts after others said they were stymied by trying to find the doodad they needed.

You didn't ask: You seem to have some passion about this despite not being a sewing machine owner or user. What machines did you grow up with? My sainted grandmother had a 1960s Singer 401A. (Photos are NOT of her machine, I nabbed them from teh interweb.)

My mother still has and uses periodically her 1970s Singer 758. (Again, not my photo and I haven't seen hers out when I've visited lately.)

#vintage #antique #sewing machine #technology

[cloudwhisper23]

Hello there! So, I'm still settling into my first year of college (oh boy) and I've determined that the time allotted in my schedule is too much for a normal part-time job. That being said, I do have spare time, it's just not in good places for me to get my homework done as well. I want to do well with college, but I also still need an income. So!

I am going to try doing commissions. They'll be written, of course. Fanfiction or fiction, whichever you prefer, but I'll get into more detail below the cut.

What can I request?

I'm a member of a few fandoms here on tumblr, and I've actually written fanfiction for Five Nights at Freddy's (of all options, I have the most experience with this one), Bendy and the Ink Machine, and Hollow Knight. I'd be willing to also try writing for Ace Attorney, Six of Crows, Stardew Valley, and Supernatural, since those are some of the fandoms I'm most familiar with.

I am experienced in writing plenty of regular fiction as well, so don't be shy about asking me to write stuff about OCs or just a general idea you had and wanted to see written out on the page. Just make sure you give me a prompt for what you'd like to see!

I can also do poetry. I don't write it as often (which is why you rarely see it on my blog), but I tend to write in free-verse, which is a fancy word for saying I don't follow poetry rules. I can follow poetry rules, but it'll probably take me longer to complete a poem.

I won't do 18+ content though. Sorry, but if I'm going to test that boundary, it'll be in my own time. Commissions are for the things I'm comfortable writing, and 18+ isn't that. So I will refuse to do any of that.

What about romance? Is that something you're comfortable writing?

I don't have full confidence in my ability to deliver good romantic stories right now. I can do a really slow burn, and I'm decent at romantic tension, but that tends to be more open for readers interpretation. You can request romance, but if it's not up to your standards, I apologize in advance.

What is your writing like?

I feel like this one kind of explains itself, but in case it doesn't, I have pieces of my writing scattered around two blogs and an Ao3 account. The blogs are @cloudwhisper23 and @cloudthenightguard, and the Ao3 account is under CloudWhisper23 as well. On both blogs, my writing tag is #cloud writes, which hopefully will make it easier for you to search for samples of my writing on both.

What about pricing? And expected time of delivery?

I write short stories on a 1,000+ basis, with the minimum being $10 USD, but I won't do more than 10,000, and I'd appreciate if you tipped me more than that (But you don't have to. I get that other people may not have much extra to give)

Poetry is a bit different though, and I'd be more willing to do it at $5 USD, but I'd prefer to write in free verse.

Payment will be done through PayPal, or Ko-Fi but depending on requests, I may be willing to consider other alternatives.

Naturally, the timing of delivery will depend on several factors. Obviously the shorter works are ones I can get to people in shorter periods of time, but depending on what I'm writing, it'll be a bit of experimentation on my part for certain things. I cannot promise an estimate without knowing what I'm meant to be writing. Certain things require further research, or knowledge about characters that I simply don't possess. If it's an OC issue, I'll ask directly, but as for more fandom based characters, I will likely do my own research.

If you have any questions I haven't covered, feel free to DM me or send an anonymous ask!

I am human, and I can't promise that I will think of every question you'll possibly ask. So please, if there's something you're not sure of, let me know so I can try to work through it with you. If you're not sure what you want, but you do know that you want something, we can brainstorm together to figure out what works best for you!

#cloud speaks #writing commissions #commissions

[saetoru]

About that entitled ass post about x reader, op was definitely wrong but a small point was made.

I agree with your response but I'd like to add that, unless you've stated that certain characteristics or features will be present in reader, certain kinds of ambiguity is necessary, especially in appearance.

To make a character completely void of any backstory or personality is just bad writing period but to add an appearance is a little ...

As a black reader, reading about certain things that are supposed to reflect the reader is genuinely disheartening. I'm talking about things like referencing imagery of lighter skin (such as refering to readers skin as pink, pale, creamy, etc) or something like a character running their fingers through the reader's hair or having a hair washing routine that can be done in the time it takes to have a regular shower. I know with people with big bodies, having descriptions of small, light bodies is also disheartening.

Bc, once again, unless it's been stated that those are a part of reader's appearance, it's a little unnecessary bc it shows that although it's x reader it's definitely not for us.

I don't expect writers to write about specific events or characteristics about different cultures and such bc that can also go south REAL quick if you aren't properly educated or aware but a little diversity never hurt anyone

I know that some people do this out of genuine dislike of darker skinned/bigger people but I know most people do it out of genuine ignorance.

Unfortunately, you cannot bring up including people who don't fit typical beauty standards (pale/light skinned, long straight hair, thin/slim bodies) without people telling you that not everyone has to cater to you.

But the thing is, we're not asking you to cater to us; we're just asking you to include us in your vision of reader. You don't need to add specifics of everything regarding different races or cultures but you don't need to add specifics that exclude them.

And then when we go to create our own stories that do envision us, we're met with so much hatred and backlash about it like that one deleted comment on op's post.

I'm sorry for ranting about this but it so frustrating sometimes when people don't understand this. I brought up something similar to this topic once before and got death threats in my mentions for weeks (that's why this is anonymous)

ALSO, I'm not accusing you of any of the things I've mentioned in this ask. Based on what I've read from your work so far, the reader is actually someone you can enjoy reading about without feeling excluded when appearances are mentioned

Btw I adore your rich boy gojo series and would love to continue reading your work ❤️

im afraid you missed my main point and also, u are talking to someone who is literally a POC so i am definitely not in need of a rundown of how important it is to write reader in a manner that does not perpetuate western beauty standards. writing a reader that is inclusive for people in a manner that doesn't solidify western norms is important, but writing a reader that is an all encompassing fit all type of thing in terms of personality and decision making is not

its not that their point ab mistagged gn! readers and white/western physical features weren't valid—it was, but it was sprinkled in their main point that writing reader with personality is an oc and is not belonging in the tags and writers should focus on writing generic hcs instead. they used the issue of race and gender and other minoroties to support their idea that readers have to be ambiguous from all fronts, and that is a very twisted way to use actual real issues to justify your tantrums ab not liking dialogue or what the reader chose to do. my point that i was trying to make is that writers are entitled to write however they please as long as they tag what features of reader are set there. if they mistag that, then yes, that is something you should bring to their attention (politely) because then it misleads ppl to think this fic includes them. but that also is not done through a rant in the tags because that does not belong in the tags

quite frankly, to pair racial and gender representation issues as comparable to not aligning with the choices a reader takes to develop as a character and to put those two on the same boat takes away from the issue of inclusivity. inclusivity of a reader does NOT equal to how they think, process, feel, and progress in the storyline. not fitting in with the actual character of reader is incomparable to racial representation issues and misgendering tags and etc. the latter are REAL issues. the first is simply complaining bc u did not see urself in a plot

the actual problem with their rant was that they were using REAL issues to justify entitled complaining and that is why i did not validate them in that. yes writing reader as white and not tagging it is an issue. yes giving little to no thought to poc readers in writing is an issue. yes mistagging something as gn! while using gendered terms is an issue. but they should not be the backbone to an entirely different argument that essentially censors people

#it’s not that ur points are wrong or that ur invalid for ur thoughts #ur very right #except i do not need those things explained to ME bc i AM a poc and i have my own multitude of experiences to draw from #and having someone explain the poc experience to me makes me feel quite invalidated #i’m more than happy to explain my point to you but pls do not come to my inbox hoping to educate me how poc ppl feel #bc i’m VERY well aware how poc ppl feel #as i am one myself

[c00kiejar]

This song...

I've never really made a proper post before, just shitposts and the occasional art thing. I want to make one to properly express how I feel right now and why this song represents it perfectly. I will warn you first, however, that this mentions a certain YouTuber who was recently completely destroyed on Twitter and my personal experience as a viewer, and may delve into some not-too-happy thoughts

Still here? Let's dive in

It all starts way back when I was still a kid. I was navigating the wonderful site known as YouTube, trying to find videos on videogames and, specifically, I think it was Super Paper Mario. I had no idea how to beat Chapter 2-3 (the Ruby debt one), and I needed help. That's when I stumbled across a YouTuber called Chuggaaconroy (a.k.a. Emile). The way he provided all the information I needed in one video was exactly what I needed. I couldn't subscribe to his channel because I didn't have a Google account, so I just periodically checked his channel, eventually learning he uploaded every day at 5 PM, perfect for younger me. I'd watch his videos when they came out, loving every single one. I eventually discovered his collab channel, The Runaway Guys, and loved that channel even more. He, Proton Jon (Jon) and NintendoCapriSun (Tim) entertained me for YEARS with their content. I even branched out into Jon's streaming community, becoming a semi-regular artist on the booru for a time (you can still find my stuff there under the name TehSm1tty. Not my best work, but I still like some of it). Years come and go, and I have my fair share of mental health troubles, but I'd always find Emile, Jon, and Tim there to brighten my days.

Fast forward to sometime last week. I've been pretty inactive on Twitter aside from my alts, but I decided to see what was popping on main. I log in and get recommended a post with the hashtag "WeStandWithChugga". I had no idea what was going on, so I looked into it. I won't go into detail here, but the jist of it is that Emile was a total creep to many women and even drove wedges between himself and good friends because of this weird behavior. There's a lot more to this than just that, but the point is that it shattered my view of him. I knew he was pushy and that always kinda annoyed me, but the extent of it broke me. For a few days now, I've been having a rough go of it. I mean, my childhood YouTuber just got outed as a complete creep and has some serious allegations of being at least a lolicon, at worst a pedo. I've been down and out for days, and it just wouldn't stop. That is, until I found out that Tim has a Reddit account. I never knew this (or, well, maybe I did and just forgot. Idfk), and was amazed to learn that Tim's been keeping Reddit updated on what he's able/willing to share. Turns out Emile's getting the help he needs at a legit mental hospital and that he's ok. That's what made everything stop. Hearing he's ok. After all the shit Emile has done, he's still a human being and doesn't deserve to have the whole internet turn on him in a fraction of a second. Hearing a fellow human is ok made me feel better. I'm not letting him off the hook, and I do not believe he should ever be forgiven for what he's done, but if he is willing to better himself and become a better person, I am more than willing to believe in that Emile.

Now to come to roughly 40 minutes ago. I decide to boot up Satisfactory and play a bit, but I have no idea what to listen to while I do. I put on a song but quickly get bored of it, and then I see "OMORI | Do You Remember? | Extended" in my recommendations. I put it on and instantly, as if I were splashed in the face by water, I wake up and feel better. I was still stressed about everything going on (I'm set to go to college in September, AND my folks are headed to Mexico in about a week, so I'm stressed from those too), but with the first note on the piano, everything faded. All my swirling negative emotions were replaced with a somber peace. I'm still hurt by the last week's revelations, and I'm never going to truly recover (who could?), but I'm moving on. I think my comment on the video describes how I feel best; "The sad yet peaceful feeling this song evokes in me... It's pretty much how I feel today. I feel at peace... or, well, mostly. There's still pain, and there always will be, but I can move on and I'll live. In the future, I'll look back on this last week and feel sad, but that'll be in the future when this is all over with for good, so I can also look back at before it and be happy that those good times happened. Nothing will ever be the same, but such is the way of the world. Saying goodbye is saying hello to the future, and we all need to do that eventually. Who knows what the future may hold? I, for one, can't wait to see. Hello future, and goodbye sadness".

Chuggaaconroy was an inspiration and a light in the sea of darkness for so, so many, and these revelations have snuffed the light he provided out. What I hope is that Emile takes a long, long break from the internet to become the person we all believed him to be, to truly become that bright light in the dark, rather than just another dark figure holding a flashlight. I don't hope for that as a supporter of him as I don't support who he is right now (as if I haven't said it enough), I hope for that as a fellow human who only wishes to see everyone become the best version of themself.

I think this post was exactly what I needed. I've finally gotten everything out in a cohesive (maybe?) and healthy manner, and I'm ready to become my best self. I will be beginning work on YouTube videos tomorrow, and will hopefully be posting Thursdays at 5 PM (in honor of DatPags whom has not uploaded in a long time).

To anyone who finished reading this post, thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. Please, go become your best self, but do not do so by putting others down. Better yourself and acknowledge your flaws, overcome them, and do not repeat Emile's mistakes. Learn from those around you.

Yours truly,

Cookie_Jar of Tumblr dot com

#music #peaceful yet sad #twitter drama #youtuber #omori #moving on #the end of an era #chuggaaconroy #the runaway guys #trg