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clusterbuck · 18 hours

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"Visiting them at their place of work" for buddie :3

Calling it the shift from hell might, in hindsight, be overselling it a little bit. It’s mostly just… annoying.

They keep getting called out for things that end up not actually being calls.

There’s a fire in a public park, but it turns out someone just had an incident with a birthday candle, and the whole thing was stamped out between someone calling 9-1-1 and the 118 actually getting there. Buck vaults out of the engine, already half-reaching for the hose, and stops like he’d slammed into an invisible wall when he sees the small, scorched-out circle of grass. It’s not even smoking anymore.

There’s a patient who got stung by a bee and went into anaphylactic shock, but by the time they get on scene all that’s left is an overzealous passerby. “I told her I called an ambulance,” he said, “But she stabbed herself with her Epi-Pen—”

“—Injected,” Hen mutters.

“—And called herself an Uber.”

Buck sighs.

There’s a report of a missing child, only three blocks from where they are, and they race to the scene with lights and sirens blaring only to find the mother clutching her son and crying tears of relief. It turns out he’d just been hiding behind a planter, watching an army of ants march by with their bounty from the nearby food court.

And Buck isn’t mad. Of course he isn’t. He can’t be mad about a child not being missing.

But he is, however, full of adrenaline with no place to go, which might be clouding his judgement a little as he texts Eddie this is the shift from HELL.

Then the radio crackles, and they’re off again.

Three non-calls later, there is a decided tension in the air as they pull into the app bay.

“Did anyone say the q-word?” Chimney asks. “There’s something wrong with this shift. Come on, fess up, we won’t bite.”

“Much,” Hen mutters, as all eyes turn to Ravi. He holds up both hands in protest.

“Not me,” he says. “I learned my lesson the first time. Promise.” Then he frowns. “Does anyone else smell… cheese?”

Chimney rolls his eyes. “Nice try,” he says. “We’re going to get to the bottom of this, you kn—”

“No, wait,” Hen says. “It kind of smells like—”

“Cheese,” Buck agrees, trying to figure out where the smell is coming from.

Behind him, someone’s phone lets out a camera shutter sound. He turns to find Hen aiming her phone at him, thumbing at the volume button but not looking the slightest bit contrite.

“You’re sniffing the air like a literal dog,” she says, shrugging at him. “I figure Eddie’s gonna get a kick out of it.”

Heat flares across Buck’s cheeks, and Hen grins. “You ever going to do something about that?”

“I—” Buck says, and dismisses each of the seventy-three things he could possibly say in response. Because—

“Guys,” Chimney says from outside the engine. “It’s Eddie.”

Buck scrambles to his feet and out of the engine. It’s Eddie could mean any number of things. Eddie could be hurt, or dead, or—

Or standing at the loft railing next to a towering stack of pizza boxes.

Which makes a lot more sense.

“Heard you guys could use some lunch,” Eddie calls out. Then his eyes land on Buck, and his face cracks into a smile Buck is already starting to think of as home. Any lingering annoyance at the morning they’ve had melts away, replaced with a warmth that floods through him in time with the racing beat of his heart.

Ravi cheers, and they jostle and elbow each other on the way up the stairs. Everyone descends on the pizza boxes, but Buck joins Eddie at the railing.

“Hell might have been a tiny bit of an exaggeration,” he admits.

Eddie laughs, bumping his elbow against Buck’s and sending shivers radiating from the place they touched.

“I know,” he murmurs. “I checked with Maddie. But it sounded annoying, so—”

Buck swallows any other words Eddie might have intended to say.

It isn’t the first time he kisses Eddie, but it can still be counted on just his two hands. He’s still learning the way Eddie fits against him, the current that runs through him when their lips touch. He’s still surprised by the way Eddie’s hand fists in the front of his uniform, like now that they’re finally this close he never wants to let go again.

Buck grins, and feels Eddie’s mouth curve in unison with his.

“To be clear,” Chimney calls out, somewhere behind them. “I also appreciate the pizza. But I will not be doing all that.”

Buck laughs, holds his middle finger up in the vague direction of Chimney’s voice, and kisses Eddie again.

send me a blossoming romance prompt 🌸

#911fic #buddie fic #leothil #ask emma #emma writes #hiiiiiii don't know what this is but it is etc etc

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sweetbans29 · 3 days

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Little Ones - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: When talk becomes reality - baby edition (based on THIS request)

Warnings: Caitlin with kids is a warning - fight me, the photo is form when she was a Hawkeye, fic is when she is with the Fever

Word Count: 1.9k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Okay but CC with kids is such a mood - she is just as cute (if not cuter) than the kids!

"Will you marry me?" Caitlin says while she is down on one knee, The two of you took (at least what you thought was) a spontaneous trip to the eastern coast in the middle of the night to go watch the sunrise. Now here you are, sun on the horizon, standing in complete shock in front of the love of your life, her down on one knee asking you to marry her.

"Yes." You say as Caitlin, with shakey hands, takes the ring out of the box and places it on your finger. Her touch is so gentle as her hands continue to shake with now-settled nerves and pure excitement. Once the ring is on your finger she jumps up, wrapping her in your arms and spinning you around. As she does, you let out the most beautiful laugh she has ever heard and yell 'We're getting married' at the top of your lungs not caring that the world is still asleep. Caitlin didn't think she could, but she fell more in love with you at that moment.

As the two of you drive back, you can't stop looking down at the ring that your now fiance has gotten you. It's so much bigger than any ring you ever imagined would live on your hand.

"It is so big," you say, eyes still in awe and heart still swollen from the events of the morning.

"You deserve even more," Caitlin says as she places a hand on your thigh, giving it a little squeeze.

You go silent as you continue looking at the stone. The two of you are still in college and if you are honest, it sort of scares you to think about you walking around with something so valuable.

Caitlin senses your shift.

"Hey," she says in the softest tone. "We can get you something smaller if that would make you more comfortable."

She knows you all too well. You were never the one to wear a lot of jewelry and the times that you had put something nice on, it was always something simple and dainty.

But you also know her well. This ring is a declaration of her love for everyone to see. She is proud that everyone knows you are hers and wants the world to see. You would never take that away from her.

"No, no. I absolutely love it. I was thinking just maybe something temporary while we finish school. Like one of those rubber ones that athletes wear - just so no one jumps me and cuts off my hand for this in that parking lot or something." The second you say it, the two of you burst out laughing.

"You would think about someone cutting off your hand," Caitlin says, continuing to laugh.

"Hey! There are some crazy people out there and this is worth a pretty penny," you say, eyes still glued to the ring.

You hear Caitlin mumble something along the lines of 'try 50 pretty pennies'. Your head whips around to her and she just gives you a shy look.

The two of you decide that you will get a silicone ring to wear while you finish out college and then switch back to the ring Caitlin got you, with the exception of date nights and family events.

When you get back to your college town, you guys stop to get some food. You ask her all the questions about when she started planning when she got the ring, and everything. She told you everything you wanted to know down to asking your dad for his blessing over one of your school breaks. You sit there amazed, taking in every word, not believing she is the one you get to spend the rest of your life with.

*6 months later*

Caitlin is at practice with her team one winter afternoon when the conversation presents itself yet again. Cait is now in her first season of the WNBA and has fit into the Indiana Fever perfectly. Everyone loves her and they have slowly been getting to know you.

"Did you see that Jess and Nick are expecting?" NaLyssa says as they are in a circle stretching. "They just announced they are going to be having a baby boy."

Everyone in the circle is sending NaLyssa dagger looks knowing the can of worms she just opened is one that Caitlin won't stop talking about.

"Awww, that is so cute!" Caitlin says with unmatched excitement. "You know, I can't wait to have a little one - just imagine them running around in little Fever gear and coming to all the games. It would be the cutest thing," Caitlin says and then proceeds to go on about how much she wants kids and can't want to have little mini-Caitlins running around.

"What if they come out as little versions of your lady?" Erika says. "They would also be pretty cute running around here."

"Don't get me started on if they are little versions of her," Caitlin says with pure excitement. "I would never be able to say not to them!"

When they are done stretching, they head into a cardio practice. Every break, Caitlin brings up something kid-related - how cute they would be, how she would teach them any sport they want, how she would want to make them proud that she is their mom. It gets to the point where the team walks away when Caitlin begins talking on the subject. Everyone with the exception of Erika, who has taken Cait in both on the court and off. She toughs it out and listens to Caitlin ramble about someday having kids. She is also the only one on the team that knows Caitlin and you are engaged. So she feels it is only fitting she let your girl ramble on about how someday family.

*18 months later*

Caitlin's 3rd year in the WNBA and she is still on fire. She was named both Rookie of the Year her first year as well as MVP - only the second to do that in the history of WNBA history.

The team is pretty much the same, with the exception of a few trades and added rookies. Erika and Lexie are still closer than ever to Caitlin on the court.

The conversation of kids comes up again when Lexie mentions her little one has started teething.

"Isn't it the worst?" Caitlin says. "You just hate seeing them in pain and you can't really do anything about it."

"I know! I just want to cuddle him but he is super fussy and is running warm." Lexie says. "It is heartbreaking."

"Right?" Caitlin says, which earns some looks from some of the other girls on the team.

Practice ends and everyone goes home for the day. A few days pass and Lexi brings up her son again.

"This whole teething thing has been terrible for our sleep schedule. Miles is up every hour and will not stay down," Lexie says while looking exhausted.

"Have you tried freezing fruit and putting it in any of the fresh food feeders for him? It might help with keeping his gums soothed." Caitlin says.

"I will have to try that!" Lexie says and thanks Caitlin for the tip. Nobody outwardly questions why Caitlin knows that but there are a few that give her quizzical looks when she offers pretty spot-on advice about a teething baby.

Once again, they end the practice and head their separate ways.

The following day is game day. The team all arrive in their own game-day attire. Caitlin walks in and goes to her locker. As she is going through her stuff she looks everywhere for her shoes.

Erika walks over. "Everything good CC?" She asks as Cait is looking through everything she has.

"No, I am somehow missing my shoes," she says as she scans through everything again.

Just as Caitlin is about to call you, Erika passes her her shoes. Caitlin mumbles a thank you and finishes getting ready.

The team heads out to warm up. The crowd is going crazy as it is one of the final games of the season. The team is warming up and Caitlin feels like there is something off. She finishes warm-ups and realizes she isn't wearing her headband to keep her fly-aways out of her face. She curses and then hears a familiar voice.

"Caitlin!" You try to get her attention, a little girl attached to your hip.

"MAMA!" Your little girl screams at the top of her lungs.

Caitlin can't help but smile as she makes eye contact with her little one. The smile on your child whenever she sees her mama is unmatched. Once you are close enough, you set your baby down and she goes running (waddling) over to Caitlin.

"Hi, little one!" Caitlin says as she picks up her child and attacks her with kisses.

You make your way to them and hand Caitlin her headband. "You forgot this," you say.

"Thanks, babe," She says as she gives you a little kiss.

Caitlin sets your little one down and she just looks up pointing at Caitlin's team. Caitlin lowers to her level and points at them with her.

"You know who they are," Caitlin says to her little one. Her little one claps with a smile. You come up behind her and scoop her up, knowing Caitlin needs to get back to her team. You give a little wave to Cait and your little one waves at her mama.

"Bye Mama!" she says continuing to wave her little arm from side to side.

Caitlin is still on a little cloud nine after seeing her little one before the game and that they brought her the one thing she needed that she completely forgot that her whole team was huddled right next to her.

"Mama?" Aliyah asks with a shocked expression.

"YOU HAVE A KID???" Erika comes barreling over in disbelief. "SINCE WHEN???"

"Well by the looks of her little one, looks like she is about a year and a half," Lexie says with a smile on her face. "Is that why you know so much about teething babies?"

"Ya, she has been on and off teething for a while now," Caitlin says with a little blush tinting her cheeks.

The team is all hooting and hollering as their coach calls them over to huddle before tip-off.

Caitlin wears a smile for the entirety of the huddle. It's not like Caitlin and you were trying to keep it a secret, it was mostly to keep her out of the eye of the media. But she was happy that the news was out to her team. It just means there are 14 other women who can speak into her daughter's life and love her.

As the team takes their place on the floor, Caitlin looks up to where you normally sit in the stands. It is the first time she sees you and little one in the crowd together.

When you notice Caitlin looking up at the two of you, you look down at your baby and point to her Mama. The little one begins to wave at Caitlin with a big smile. Caitlin smiles and blows her a kiss.

Caitlin begins to lock in to the game and wipes her shoes. She gives one final glance over to you and thinks, 'Ya, I can get used to this'.

AN: A little different but I really like how this turned out! I hope you do as well. And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark imagine #caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark masterlist #wnba

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beskarandblasters · 1 day

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I Don't Wanna Keep Secrets Just To Keep You

Part Three of Time, Wondrous Time

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Cooper Howard Masterlist | AO3

Series summary: You’re California Crest Studios’ newest production assistant, getting the opportunity to work on the hit movie, The Man From Deadhorse. But when you meet the movie’s lead, Cooper Howard, you fall head-first into a secret affair. Enter a war, a cryogenic freezer, and a two-hundred-year time jump. And yet despite all that, you just might run into him again.

Chapter summary: You come to terms with your feelings for Cooper. Later, you share an intimate moment at The Man From Deadhorse cast party.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied and wears a dress + makeup, unspecified age gap, jealousy, drinking, dub con/consent under the influence, !!! sweaty Cooper !!!, hair pulling (Cooper’s), oral sex (M and F receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, pull out method, cum swallowing, praise kink, pet names (sweetheart), angst, no use of y/n

That one fateful night led you headfirst into a secret affair. The first night could’ve been nothing but a fluke, a one-time slip-up as a result of a poor decision. But it’s really the second time that confirms the undeniable attraction you two have for one another. The affair lasts through the rest of the shoot. You fall into a routine of getting together at night after the workday is done, always in his trailer and never on weekends. It always ends with you two lying with each other, talking about life. He shares his misgivings about his wife and her job at Vault-Tec. He’s a paranoid man but based on what he told you, you can’t blame him.

As the end of shooting draws near, you form a pit in your stomach. A sense of dread and longing looms over you. What if you never have nights like these again? What if this is your first and last production working with Cooper Howard? And now that the end is in sight, you realize you have a serious problem…

You’re head over heels in love with him. It’s driving you crazy, craving a man who will never truly be yours. You want more than just his midnights. You want his mornings, his weekends– you want him all the time. In the countless nights you’ve spent with him in his trailer, he’s shown you colors you’ve never seen before. It makes you sick, thinking about the hold he has on you.

But you wouldn’t trade it for anything else in the whole world.

It’s the last day of the shoot. These past couple of months have flown by. You thought by now you’d be upset to lose your sense of community. But the truth is, you never felt like you were fully integrated into this environment. You joined the crew about halfway through the production when there were already pockets of established groups and cliques. It’s ironic to think about, the leading man being the only person to welcome you with open arms. You never expected him to even give you the time of day and yet here you are, sharing secrets under the cover of night, sweaty limbs intertwined paired with labored breaths. Those nights were fleeting moments of bliss. You wish you had appreciated them a bit more. And now that the shoot is wrapping up, you’re not sure when you’ll ever get moments like that again.

After a long, hot, tiring day, Emil finally calls wrap. Everyone is packing up when Emil calls everyone for an announcement.

“I know it’s been a long day and you all want to get home to your families but I just have an announcement I’d like to make,” Emil says. “This has been a long shoot, a lot longer than I intended it to be, and to celebrate I’m having a party for the cast and crew Saturday night at seven. If you need my address, find me before you leave. Thanks, everyone!”

A party for the cast and crew.

You get butterflies in your stomach, thinking about the possibility of seeing Cooper outside of the studio. You can only assume Barb will be there, too. But it’s worth hearing his voice and seeing his smile, at least one more time. Saturday can’t come soon enough.

You make sure to get Emil’s address before hanging back like you always do. You’re not sure if you’ll get to see Cooper in his trailer again. You can only hope since it’s the last day. But you’ve never talked about what will happen to you now that the shoot’s wrapped up. A sinking feeling in your gut tells you that your relationship will end after tonight.

You wander aimlessly while you wait for Cooper, reminiscing on your time here and most importantly with him. You turn and glance over your shoulder, watching as Cooper walks towards you, out of costume and in his regular clothes. You smile when you see him but he doesn’t match yours, his mouth forms into a tight frown.

“Everything alright?” you ask as he approaches you.

“I can’t stay tonight.”

“No worries,” you lie, already fighting the urge to cry.

“Something came up with Janey.”

“I hope everything’s okay.”

“It’ll be fine. She’s just sick and Barb has some big meeting with the executives at Vault-Tec tonight. Babysitter’s not available on short notice.”

“Sounds important.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“You don’t have to apologize. It’s not your fault.”

“I’ll see you on Saturday, sweetheart,” he says, turning and walking away.

“You’re going?!”

“Of course I am!” he calls over his shoulder, walking to the parking lot.

So much for one last time together.

The shoot wrapped up on a Thursday so luckily you only had to wait a day before Saturday rolled around. After spending an exorbitant amount of time on your makeup and outfit, you head to Emil’s house. You’re wearing one of your favorite dresses, a color that compliments your skin and hugs your body in all the right places. You pull up to Emil’s house, a huge mansion in the hills, overwhelmed at the sheer size of it but also expecting nothing less from him.

His house is packed with everyone from the studio, letting loose over cocktails and cigarettes. For a minute, you feel like a deer in headlights, anxious about who to talk to and where to hang out. You spot Cooper across the living room, talking with a group of people you recognize. But you’re not comfortable enough to go over there and insert yourself in the conversation. To your delight, Barb isn’t with him. But before you get too excited, you remind yourself she could be elsewhere in the house.

You get a drink from the wait staff in the kitchen and hang out in the corner of the living room, sipping your drink and awkwardly waiting for the perfect moment to swoop in. But you’re pulled from your pining when a man approaches you, drink in hand and wearing an uneasy smile. You vaguely recognize him. You’ve seen him around on set but you couldn’t place his name or what he does at the studio.

“Hi,” he says, awkwardly.

“Hi.”

“I’ve seen you around on set.”

“Likewise.”

“I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Dan,” he says, holding out his hand.

You reluctantly shake his hand and tell him your name, letting an uncomfortable silence fall between you two.

“Actually, I… I wanted to tell you something else.”

“Shoot.”

“Well, I’ve always thought you were beautiful, and I…”

What’s he saying turns into white noise as your gaze fixates on Cooper again. To your surprise, Cooper’s looking right at you with his jaw clenched. Could he possibly be… jealous?

You look back at Dan who’s silent, waiting for your response. You blink a few times and say, “That’s sweet of you. But I’m not looking for anything right now.”

He opens his mouth to speak but before he can, you say, “Would you excuse me for a moment? I need some air.”

You push past him and make a beeline for the glass door across the living room. But before you can step outside, Emil stops you.

“Hey! I just wanted to give you something,” he says, setting his drink down on a shelf and reaching inside his pocket. He pulls out a small envelope and continues, “Open this when you’re alone later.”

“Thanks,” you say, taking the envelope from him and putting it in your purse.

“Is everything alright?”

“I’m okay. I just need some air. Thanks, Emil,” you respond, sliding past him.

You head into the backyard, sitting on a lawn chair by Emil’s pool. The prospect of another man confessing his attraction to you just sends you further into Cooper’s arms, confirming how badly you want to be exclusive with him already. But you also wonder what could possibly be in that envelope Emil gave you. You go to open it but a voice stops you, an unmistakable voice.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

You look up at him as he places a hand on your shoulder. He’s wearing concern all over his face.

“That guy wasn’t bothering you, was he?”

“No,” you shake your head. “It’s just a little overwhelming in there.”

“What do you say we go somewhere more private?”

“Where?”

He gestures across the pool with his head. You glance in that direction and spot a pool house, turning and looking at Cooper again with a smirk on your face.

“You go first. I’ll meet you there.”

“Is Barb here?”

“Nope. She’s at a Vault-Tec dinner.”

Perfect.

You walk over to the pool house, creeping the door open and poking your head inside, just to make sure no one’s inside. It’s bigger than it looks on the outside. You opt to turn on a lamp rather than the main overhead light. You don’t want to draw any extra attention. A large sectional sits in the middle of the room, complete with a bar cart at its side. You toss your purse on the couch and turn to peek into the bathroom, finding a full-blown sauna.

Cooper joins you and closes the door to the pool house, putting a hand on the small of your back.

“Impressed?”

“Uhh, yeah. This is wild.”

“Wanna use it?”

“Really?”

“Mhm,” he says, turning up the dial.

He starts taking off his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt. Before you get undressed you ask, “Are we going to get in trouble?”

“Hell no.”

“Are you sure?”

“Would you stop worrying so much?” he says, hands gravitating to your waist and pulling you close. He leans in and whispers in your ear, “Strip for me. Now.”

“Yes, sir,” you breathe, turning around so he can unzip your dress. You peel off your clothes and kick off your shoes as the small wooden room heats up. A warm, earthy scent fills your senses. You look at him, his belt undone and his pants hanging low on his hips.

“You’re gorgeous… But I’m sure you’re sick of me tellin’ you that all the time.”

“Are you kidding me? I’ll never get used to it,” you say, sitting on the bench.

He gets down on his knees, pulling your thighs apart with his hands. Without warning, he dives face-first into your cunt, licking one long, slow trail up your entrance. A shiver runs down your spine as you take a deep breath, the woodsy aroma filling your lungs. You look down at him and find him staring directly at you. His tongue swirls around your pussy before he latches his mouth onto your clit, sucking with more and more pressure. He moans into you as he works you up to the edge. You reach between your legs and run your hand through his hair, gripping his locks as you teeter on the brink of orgasm. You tug on his hair every time his tongue hits a particularly sensitive spot. He’s already slick with sweat, forehead glistening in between your legs. Your moans and whimpers grow louder and stronger, coming out as choked-up sobs as he pushes you over the edge. Waves of pleasure wash over you, your cunt clenching around nothing while your thighs close around his head. He laps up the remnants of your release before sitting on the bench next to you, swiping his fingers across his jaw to collect the rest of your spend and popping them in his mouth.

You trade places with him, sinking to the floor on your knees. One of your hands cups his balls as the other wraps around the base of his already hard cock. You waste no time taking him in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock over and over again. He throws his head back and curses under his breath, bringing a hand to your face and caressing your cheek. You flash your eyes up at him, watching him go crazy for you. His jaw is slack and his pupils are wide, adoration written all over his face.

Just when you think he’s going to cum, he grabs your face and pulls his cock out of your mouth, “Not so fast.”

You stand up and turn around so your back is facing him, taking it upon yourself to sit on his cock. He curses again, wrapping his hands around your waist and playing with your nipples as you bounce up and down.

“Such a good girl. Bouncing up and down on my cock like a fuckin’ angel.”

“Only for you.”

“That’s right,” he responds, letting one of his hands leave your waist to deliver a swift slap on your ass.

Between bouncing yourself on his cock and grinding your hips back and forth, you’re well on your way to your second orgasm. Your wetness seeps out of you and coats his lap, making it easier to grind against his lap. With one last motion of your hips, you cum around his cock, feeling truly full. You lean back against his chest, both of your bodies hot and drenched with sweat. Aftershocks of your orgasm rip through you, making you shudder. His hands roam up and down your body, leaving no part of you ignored. But he can only hold off his orgasm for so long. He grabs your hips and coaxes you to get up, ordering you to get on your knees again.

“On your knees, sweetheart.”

You face him with your mouth open, tongue sticking out as he strokes himself. Soon enough, he’s coming into your mouth with a guttural moan. You swallow his release before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You crawl into his lap and wrap yourself around him, always listening for his wild heartbeat. Both of you are completely covered in sweat, but it’s not gross. It’s a pleasant aroma of his natural scent mixed with the woodsy fragrance of the sauna. It’s a scent you could get addicted to if you’re not careful enough. He strokes your back, kissing your head and whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

Tilting your head, you look up at his face. “Were you… jealous of that guy earlier?”

“Who? Dan?”

“Mhm. You look like you would have punched him right then and there,” you tease.

“No one flirts with my girl.”

Those two words. My girl. That’s all you wanted to hear him say over these past few months. But then reality settles in. Dan doesn’t know you’re Cooper’s girl.

You think about where you are and remember that you’ll have to leave the pool house separately. You remember that he can only call you sweetheart in secret. You remember that he’s just… not truly yours.

The affair’s been fun and all but it’s just been placating you from what you’ve been craving this whole time– exclusivity. You want to be more than his dirty little secret. You want his Friday nights and his Sunday mornings. You want to eat dinner with him every night. You want to go on dates. You want to walk red carpets with him and listen to him gush about you in interviews. You want him to show you off.

“Sweetheart? Are you okay?” he asks. He must’ve sensed you going abnormally still and quiet.

You pull back and look at him, worry written on his face. What you want to tell him is on the tip of your tongue. But you can’t bring yourself to do it.

“I’m fine,” you lie.

“Okay,” he says, cupping your face again. “We should probably get showered and dressed. I have no idea how long we’ve been in here.”

“Right,” you nod, pulling yourself off of him no matter how hard it is. You reach for your clothes and walk into the shower. He does the same and turns off the sauna. You turn on the water, letting steam fill the walk-in shower before getting inside. He gets in with you, chest pressed against your back. He grabs the bottle of shower gel and creates a lather in his hand, rubbing it up and down your body as you relax. He’s careful to not ruin your makeup like a true gentleman. Once you’re clean you do the same for him, washing each other in comfortable silence. The end looms over your head but you choose not to focus on it. You choose to focus on the few fleeting moments you have left.

He turns off the water and grabs a towel, helping you dry off and get dressed. And soon enough, you’re both dressed again as if what happened in the sauna never occurred, except for your makeup that’s a little sweat-ridden. Before you part ways he kisses you, soft and sweet, telling you good night before slipping back out into the party.

You grab your purse off the couch and remember the envelope Emil gave you. Now that you’re alone you open it, finding a handwritten card that says;

Just wanted to say thank you. You really saved our asses with this production. As a token of my gratitude, here are two tickets to The Man From Deadhorse premiere.

-Emil

The two tickets slip out of the card. You glance at the date and see it’s not until January of next year, four months from now. Regardless, that was nice of him. When you signed up to work on the film you never thought you’d be able to attend the premiere. Your stomach swirls at the thought of seeing Cooper all dressed up on the red carpet but then it sinks when you remember he’ll be with Barb.

You shove the envelope and the tickets back in your purse, glancing at the room once more. Once you turn off the light, you leave the pool house, dragging your feet as you walk back to your car. The reality of the situation is sinking in now– that was probably the last time you’ll see Cooper for a while. And maybe it’s the alcohol or the post-sex hormones talking but you could break down and cry at any given moment. But you don’t give in until you’re alone in the comfort of your car, cursing the man who welcomed you with open arms on your first day on set.

End note: This series is five parts now because I’m an indecisive idiot 🤧🤧 This is also some of my favorite smut I’ve ever written?!?!? And thank you to @clawdee for beta reading and telling me I needed to make Cooper sweatier 😏

If you like my work, consider supporting me on Ko-fi 🤍

Check out the series playlist! 🎶

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics

Dividers: @saradika-graphics

Tag list: @widowmakerow @bisasterbisexual @wowitsem @vegetarianvamp @celestial-vomit @ghoulsimper @anyzandy @justfoxymuffins @hobnob2020 @fallout-girl219 @ipostwhtifeel @awhoresjourney @the-faceless-bride @birdieofloxley @raviolisenpai

#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x f!reader #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul smut #the ghoul x you #the ghoul x f!reader #fallout #fallout fanfiction #cooper howard #the ghoul #time wondrous time

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sysmedsaresexist · 2 days

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Changing mindsets, from a Real Anti Endo™️

The Release of the (Pro/Endo) Golden Goose

I hope everyone from all sides will give this important, heartfelt post a read.

It's likely something you'll want to be aware of if you have a vested interest in syscourse and the validity of endogenic systems. Please give this a chance.

It's been almost three years since I started my blogs. Wow. I've been on tumblr a hell of a lot longer, but I really wasn't involved in the system community. I started out firm and loud. I probably inadvertently fakeclaimed (I went into this with the rule that I would NOT directly tell anyone they were faking, it was a boundary that I knew would ruin me socially if I crossed it, but I'm sure I probably did without meaning to), I name called and made fun of people and things. I was disrespectful to people. I invaded tags to get my message out there, though I was quick to stop once I realized I was making the tags unusable for the community I claimed to want to protect.

I learned very quickly what was appropriate and what wasn't, what I could get away with and what I couldn't. It started to become a numbers game, influenced by the risk of the post.

I made a lot of friends and a lot of enemies, and I amassed a following of over 2k. More people have come and gone from my little community than I ever thought possible. People made fanart of me, and I cherish those so deeply. I have over 300 asks because I struggle to delete the ones thanking me.

And the more I was thanked, the nicer I got, the more thanks, the nicer I got, rinse and repeat until I had trouble NOT empathizing with pro/endos. The more I was willing to listen, the more legitimate sources I came across that disproved my original ideas about consciousness. The people sharing the sources were more respectful than I thought they'd be. Things were starting to look a bit cloudy.

I talked to my colleagues about how they, as therapists, would handle some of these endos in their practice, and while their belief in the concept varied, kindness and attempts to understand was the consistent answer. When had I lost that kindness and understanding that had driven me to that field to begin with?

Colleagues, yes. For those who don't know, I have a degree in social services and counselling (plus three other degrees). It's why the current situation with the antis turning on me is so funny. I still can't get into the mindset of some of these new anti endos, I just can't imagine justifying that level of cruelty. I had lines that I wouldn't cross, and I didn't think people could be worse than me.

... That might have been a trauma thing, looking back on it.

So I got desperate.

I spoke to the actual doctors who wrote some of these papers all of us are quoting. Everyone was arguing the meaning of the words, so I went directly to the source.

Dr Colin Ross, who wrote about endogenous multiplicity in the 80s. I told him everything-- about plurals, non-traumagenic systems, syscourse, what was being debated, how I and others interpreted his words, and what I wanted to learn.

Was plurality only trauma based?

And back and forth and back and forth we went, with me asking over and over again in different ways, NEEDING to hear that it was.

But I never got that answer. He meant what he meant. He said what he said and he meant it.

That plurality was not only found in the aftermath of trauma.

And I said nothing to anyone because I couldn't reconcile it.

Don't try to read between the lines, I assure you, there isn't some hidden meaning to be found there. I can't share all of the messages because some contained personal information, but my final response will tell you all you need to know.

(It did NOT, in fact, make sense, and it took me three years to "rethink my paper" that endogenic plurality wasn't possible, I did not win that conversation, it was a dying stance that was not supported)

I've been accused of paying too much attention to my follower count, but I can't really help it. It's really scary when you make a post and see a sizeable drop. It means a lot of different things. My posts have less reach and support. I've upset people. I've done something wrong. My community is leaving me.

I'm in a weird spot, where I'm blocked by so much of the pro/endo community that I have nothing to join, and the anti endo community, who I still wholeheartedly support, continues to leave me for -checks smudged writing on hand- being too nice??

Misinformation about DID is a massive problem, and it's why I still consider myself anti endo and support that community. I relate to them in such a way that I'll always gravitate to and empathize with them.

Or at least, that's what I thought.

At this point, though, how can I not be pro/endo when Colin fucking Ross says it's possible?

I've already written about how I'm really struggling with these labels, and I love the people that have stuck around while I struggle to figure this out.

I hurt when I see the people that once supported me leave.

My (online) world is shrinking. Literally.

That's scary.

When you've watched so many turn away, you start to wonder, with every post, where is the line where the rest are going to leave? Is it this post?

I just want to be me, us, we want to laugh at the stupid crap people say, system or not, I want to talk about my disorder, I want to combat misinformation, I want to have productive, fun conversations about ideas and concepts with people who disagree and have different interpretations. I want to play devil's advocate and get people thinking. I want to be able to comment positivity and kindness on any post I see, I want to feel comfortable talking to more people about their ideas. I sympathize with anti endos, I relate to CDD systems, I still firmly believe that CDDs and plurality are different, unrelated concepts.

My priority will always and forever be the CDD community first and foremost.

However, I am a hypocrite. I have gone straight to the horse's mouth and failed. I've seen so much research that I finally get it. I'm grappling with holding on to this conversation with Dr Ross, wondering what harm I could have prevented if I'd gone public with these emails earlier.

Since when has being open to change been a bad thing?

Since when has showing respect to lived experiences been a bad thing?

What am I? What label describes this?

How do I go forward from here?

What are you going to do with this information?

I promise you, hate isn't the way forward.

#syscourse #not syscourse #pro syscourse conversation #anti endo #pro endo #anti plural #pro plural #debunk #endogenic safe #system safe #pro system

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apomaro-mellow · 3 days

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Family Planning 2

Part 1

When he got home that evening, he called both Tommy and Carol to let them know he wouldn’t be able to pick them up the next morning. All in service to the big reveal tomorrow. The fake stomach had been smuggled out of the theatre department and only now did Steve take it out, alone in his room.

He put it on with surprising ease and looked himself over in the mirror, snickering to himself. Then he put a shirt over it and widened his eyes at how realistic it looked. His arms slowly wound around to cradle his stomach. He let himself imagine that it was actually his, that it was actually his and Eddie’s.

“Yeah right”, Steve scoffed, like he was trying to convince himself as he took it off.

The next day, Steve was having breakfast with his parents when he heard someone pull up to the driveway. Not just someone. It could only be-

“Who is that?”, Steve’s father Richard frowned at the van out front.

“That’s my Home Ec partner. Gotta run!” He gobbled the rest of his cereal, put his bowl in the sink, kissed his mother’s cheek and then ran out the door. Once he got in the passenger side, Eddie took off, not even waiting for him to have his seatbelt on.

“Jesus, why are you in such a rush? Is that anyway to treat someone who’s expecting?”

“Sorry, just excited”, Eddie said, putting the pedal to the metal.

Steve could understand. He was kind of feeling a buzz too, but he wasn’t about to admit it. On the way to school, he worked on slipping the fake belly over his real one.

Eddie wasn’t exactly a virgin. He’d messed around a couple of times before. But even so, seeing Steve’s bare torso, his belly button and happy trail, he kept from swerving only just because he was turning anyway. He kept his eyes on the road, resolute, after that. What a stupid way to die, ogling a guy who’d never given you the time of day. Because of his focus, he didn’t get to see Steve’s new look until he parked.

It looked so…natural. He swallowed, eyes moving slowly up his body to meet the omega’s.

“Are you ready?”, Steve asked.

Eddie grinned. “It’s showtime.” He got out first and then went over to Steve’s side, clearing his throat before he spoke. “Watch your step, baby.”

Steve’s ears burned at the pet name. They had made this grand plan, pretending to be expecting parents. But he hadn’t really visualized what that would look like in practice besides the dropped jaws of their peers. Eddie held his hand out to help Steve out of the van, all part of the show. And when he finally stepped out all the way it was like he could hear the hush come over the parking lot.

Everyone who caught sight of them was trying to do the mental gymnastics to make sense of what they were seeing. Eddie snickered as he put an arm around Steve’s shoulders, enjoying the spectacle. They walked passed a few cars before getting to Tommy’s truck, where he and Carol were leaning against the bumper.

“What the hell am I looking at?”, Carol said, eyes bugging out of her head.

“This has gotta be some kind of joke”, Tommy glared in confusion.

And even though Steve was their friend, their befuddlement kept them from approaching. As it did to others. Everyone just stared on. Only a few knew that they’d been paired for the Home Ec project. Plenty knew about the lunchroom incident but didn’t exactly know how Steve was involved. Eddie walked Steve to his locker and only then did he take his arm off his shoulders.

“Time for Papa Bear to bring home the bacon. Don’t miss me too much.” He bent over to kiss Steve’s false belly and then skipped off. For all his bravado, there was a part of him that was nervous that Steve might think he went too far. Best to get out of whopping distance in that case.

No one had ever kissed his stomach before. But then again, Steve supposed no one had a reason to. Even though he hadn’t really felt it, the place Eddie kissed tingled all the same. He quickly checked himself before going off to class. It wasn’t like he liked the man. They’d barely spoken to one another. Maybe he was a little easy on the eyes, nice hair anyway. But the man’s fashion sense left a lot to be desired.

Steve’s thoughts were cut off when his homeroom teacher choked at the sight of him. Everyone else in the room stopped talking. Steve entered with his head held high but for a moment he wondered if this was how it would be if he actually got knocked up. How long would it have taken him to show? Would people stare this much? He vaguely recalled a girl last year who got pregnant. Of course, she dropped out and Steve had no idea what became of her until he happened to see her at the grocery store, carting a pup along.

She seemed content. Although he now realized he had no idea what happened to the person who sired her pup or who they even were. The double standards had always been apparent to Steve but even more so now that he was stepping into that role.

At some point during class, he started resting his hand on his stomach. It just felt natural. And then he began to rub it. It wasn’t hard to imagine it was all for real. It was just hard to wrap his head around having a baby himself. Steve had never gone steady with anyone. What kind of alpha would he eventually be with?

The thoughts ran through his mind for the remainder of homeroom, when Eddie showed up to come and ‘pick him up’.

“Did my two darlings miss me?”

“It wasn’t even half an hour”, Steve rolled his eyes. He was aware that Eddie didn’t attend his own homeroom because that was usually when he went out to the abandoned picnic area to sell his party favors. Bring home the bacon, indeed.

Eddie escorted him to his next period, which he shared with Carol and Tommy. Of course, they were already there and before the period officially started, they grabbed Steve and made an exit. Loitering in the halls when they should be in class wasn’t out of the ordinary, especially for a teacher that droned like Mr. Parsons, but he could tell this wouldn’t be their usual hang out session.

“What’s the deal with that?”, Carol cut right to the chase, pointing at his torso.

The hallway was empty, everyone either in class or loitering elsewhere. Steve just shrugged while smiling. He knew jokes like this weren’t their thing, which is why he didn’t bring it up before the reveal. They were more into the kind that were at other’s expense.

“It’s just a gag. And a way to not fail Home Ec this year.”

“Did Munson put you up to this?”, Tommy crossed his arms.

“He came up with the idea but clearly I had nothing against it.”

Carol’s face was green. “You look ridiculous. What if people actually think you’re pregnant?”

“Then they’d be stupid”, Steve said. No one went from flat stomach to showing in a day. It was such a change that his shirt almost didn’t fit him.

Tommy shook his head. “You had like, one detention with him and he’s got you all flipped around, doing his bidding.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “It’s not like that. And it won’t even be that long. We’ve got a plan.”

The rest of the day went by with the same gawking and staring that had begun in the morning, especially when Eddie sat at Steve’s table during lunch. If looks could kill, he would have been double dead by the way Carol and Tommy were glaring. Steve paid their attitudes no mind and treated it as if Eddie always sat there.

At the end of the day, Eddie took Steve home and he took the belly off on the drive back. They looked at each other, rather pleased with themselves.

“I can’t believe the looks on all their faces”, Eddie beamed.

“I think some of those jaws are still on the floor”, Steve said.

“Ready for the big climax tomorrow?”

Steve took a breath. “As I’ll ever be. Think this’ll actually get us back on track for the assignment?”

“That or we get suspended. But! Engels won’t wanna deal with me for a whole other year and you’ve got the untouchable quality of being on a sports team, so they’ll probably let us off with an essay.”

“God, I hate essays”, Steve rubbed his face. “Why makes us write five hundred words when I can say it in like 12?”

“You think five hundred words is a lot? That’s adorable.”

Steve scowled at him and Eddie gave a very dramatic wince. To the point where he fell back against the driver side door with his hand to his heart.

“There it is! The Royal Evil Eye!”

“Shut the hell up”, Steve scoffed.

“If it makes you feel any better about our situation, I don’t mind helping you with that essay. We’ll probably be spending many afternoons in detention after tomorrow.”

Steve didn’t know when the prospect of such a punishment didn’t seem like such a drag anymore. With Eddie around at least it wouldn’t be boring.

“It’s the least you can do”, Steve said as he opened the door. “If you’re gonna be my alpha, take responsibility.”

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

The next day started the same but this time, both Eddie and Steve were a little nervous. Yesterday was like a pre-show compared to what would go down today. They had Home Ec today and if their teacher hadn’t heard about Steve’s new predicament, she’d find out the moment they walked in.

Steve skipped homeroom that morning, going with Eddie into the theatre department where one of Eddie’s friends, Gareth, was helping them with this final stunt.

“Okay, are you guys really sure you wanna do this?”

“Just tell me you got it rigged to max pressure”, Eddie said.

“Dude, the whole classroom is going to be a splash zone”, Gareth assured him.

“How do you know how to do all this?”, Steve asked.

“You know those guys who do effects in horror movies? That’s gonna be me one day.”

The period for Home Ec came and Ms. Engels’ eyes got wide watching Eddie walk in with his arm around Steve’s waist. There were snickers coming from the other students as it was clear she had NOT heard that they had a bundle on the way.

“Just what do you two think you’re doing?”

“By my watch, I’d say arriving to class a full minute early”, Eddie said just as the bell rang. “Oh, mine must be a little fast.”

“You were told to show that you can handle the responsibility of parenthood”, she began to scold as they took their seats, this time right next to each other.

“What’s more responsible than this”, Steve said. “I’m all ready to become a mother.”

She glowered. “Teen pregnancy is a serious issue.”

“Then why don’t we learn anything useful?”, Eddie challenged. “All this school has taught us is ‘don’t have sex, oh but in case you do, here’s a bag of flour’. How does a bag of flour teach us anything about babies?”

“I’m calling the principal”, Ms. Engels said, going to the phone on the wall. “Detention will be the least of your worries.”

Eddie stood up. “Careful, you don’t want to put stress on my Stevie. He’s due any minute now.”

“Principal Woolsley, the Munson boy is at it again. I need you in my room this instant.”

“I’m warning you”, Eddie said.

“Are you threatening a teacher!?”

“Eddie!”, Steve gasped. “That baby’s coming!”

“Oh you’ve done it now Engels!”, Eddie shook a finger at her and then helped Steve to stand up like he was actually going through labor.

The rest of the class watched on, engaged in the spectacle. Eddie went right over to Ms. Engels’ desk and in one sweep, brushed everything off her desk and onto the floor. There were gasps and shrieks and guffaws and Eddie lived for it as he brought Steve over to lay on top of it.

“Okay, honey here we go. Just breathe and push with me.”

“This is completely unacceptable!”

“And push!”

Steve’s face only showed glee as he pretended to push the baby out, waiting for Eddie’s cue. He really was some kind of showman, hamming it up for his audience. He waited for the tension in the room to rise before he went around to Steve’s front, peering between his clothed legs.

“I think I see a head! It’s time to really push!”

A few heads craned like they’d actually be able to see a pup crowning when Steve was still wearing his jeans. It was the suspense of whether or not something, anything would come out. Eddie went back to Steve’s side and held his hand, grounding him. Steve took a breath and they let Gareth’s work explode.

Right into Mr. Woolsley’s face.

The tomato sauce was pretty thick, filled with chunks that would’ve been a pretty good stand in for viscera. But even through it all, they could see the man’s red face. His voice was scarily even as he spoke.

“I’m calling your parents.”

Part 3 coming soon

Tag Team

@marklee-blackmore @aol19

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #omegaverse #a/b/o

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1lovehanni · 1 day

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Fun in Fanmeet (Minju of ILLIT)

Minju x Male Reader (Y/N) Wort count: 2087 words Summary: A fan meeting leads to a fun experience for you.

You have been a fan of Minju ever since RU next; the way she has the visual and talent of a perfect idol is what captured your heart.

She has a unique voice, is a wonderful dancer, has a great personality, and lastly, has a gorgeous visual.

She indeed has such K-actress beauty that if she had pursued her acting career rather than her idol career, she would still flourish.

You’ve been playing the Super Real Me album 24/7, thinking of how this group started from being a nobody to a hit with their title song Magnetic. Eventually, a fanmeet has been announced in their official Twitter account. Reading through it, you saw a chance of having a one-on-one conversation with a member, but it was a random draw during the event. Nonetheless, the important part is to attend your favourite group and meet Park Minju. After the 150th album you just bought, you finally got a ticket for the fanmeet. A week has passed, and the day of the fanmeet is here. You’ve dressed as well as you can. You arrived early to the venue and chatted with some fans. And patiently waited for the fan meet to begin.

After some time, a staff member walked to the stage and announced that the fan meet was about to begin. Excitement rises in yourself; you're about to see Minju in real life. A loud cheer as the members each slowly walk. Yunah was dead gorgeous; same with Iroha and Moka. Then there’s the cutest Wonhee, but your eyes fixated on your princess, the queen of your dreams, the one and only Minju. The flower crown on her head makes her an angel that comes down from heaven to save you. Nonetheless, the fanmeet is starting with their hit song Magnetic. After that, they introduced themselves. Doing challenges, literally being themselves. Two hours have passed, everyone still has the energy to cheer, and the girls are still entertaining. But every event has to come to an end; eventually they draw the winner for the one-on-one convo. Since there are a lot of fans who attended, you thought that there's no chance you can win one, let alone win for Minju. But as the staff was picking the winner for Minju, they called in the person, but they had already left, so they redrawn again. This time, luck had come to you when they called your name.

Y/N is selected for Minju; please come right to the stage. You're dazzled by the announcement, and fans near you congratulate you for winning. You followed the instructions to come near the stage. They gave the five winners an envelope with the time and place where they could have a chit-chat with the idols.

For you, the time is from 10pm to 12 midnight; you thought it's kind of late for a fan meet. It feels like a date for you, which isn't a bad thing but suspicious nonetheless. And the meeting place is private, which makes sense since it's a one-on-one conversation. Arriving at the place, it seems so empty—just 2 bodyguards and 1 staff member. You greeted them and handed them the invitation. Welcome Sir. Y/N, congratulations! Enjoy your date with Minju. ? Huh, did I hear you right? They didn’t talk after that. You entered the place and saw a table for two with a couch right next to it. You didn't mind the place, but suspicion arises since you haven't heard anything for the past 5 minutes. Walking to the door, you noticed the bodyguards and the staff left. You heard footsteps walking toward the door. You instantly hide as if a murderer is on you. The door opened, and a girl walked in. Where’s the guy? Minju said,Umm hi! "Shock.” OMG, why are you there? Ugh, I thought someone was about to kill me. So you won the draw? Yes, I did. I am Y/N, btw, and sorry to startle you. Haha, no worries; it kind of seems like a dark place, right?

Yes, it is.

You two casually just talked to each other for half an hour. You noticed she texted her staff to bring the food. This is fun—she said, Oh, yeah, different from a normal fan meet. Yeah, um, I just noticed my staff for the food; I'm getting hungry. Are you not? Oh, before I got here, I had already eaten. The staff knocked on the door to deliver the food for the two of you. Thank you! Miss Minju, text again if you need something. Both of you munch the food the staff delivered, and deep inside of you is screaming as to how you got to eat with Minju.

After eating, she asked, Do you have a girlfriend or something? No, not at the moment, but you did have? An ex? Ye That's perfectPerfect? Well, I don't know if you're keeping up all this time. But you haven't just won a date with me; something else is better. Something else? Think Y/N; you're running out of time. Your head is full of confusion; you cannot think straight about what Minju just said. A lot of things are going on in your head. As you think, she stood up and got to the couch. Well, if you can't think of what I am referring to, you won't experience it. This just added to your confusion. Minutes passed, and you still can't think of what she's referring to. But then it hit. Is she giving a massage perk? I think I got it. Finally, you got it! But shouldn’t it be a flat bed rather than a couch? Huh? What? Are you thinking of massaging? Well, I can’t think of any. Ugh, you're too innocent but cute too. I like you, Y/N. But this isn't okay; it’s not massaging. Well, it involves massaging, but in a special way, and you're the massagist. Huh? Me? Are you saying random things? Did the food make you think less? Shibal, I can’t take you anymore. It’s so simple yet you can’t get to it. Sorry, it’s just my first time, okay? I don't usually go to Fanmeets. It’s my first time too. Ugh, fine, since you only have an hour with me, I’ll do it. What are you going to do? Have fun, fun with you. Ugh, Y/N, I want you to fuck me here. That’s the prize you won; you won me for 2 hours, babe. What are you on? Are you really Minju? She then pinned you down on the couch, like the captured food of a predator.

This is what you won; I am your prize. So get it now before your time runs out. Min... Minju, I don’t see you like that; I like you but not like this. Why are you so cute? You're making me regret this.What? She then slowly removes her clothes—the white dress and her safety shorts—leaving her in her underwear. You're perplexed by the sight you're seeing. She then goes close to you and unbuttons your shirt. Please be gentle, you said to her. She mirks, going for your mouth. Feeling her dessert to you. You just follow what she desires in you. You alright, she asked. Eyep, I am fine. Strip me, touch my body. Y/N, you earned it. Okay, just like that, good boy. You have a silky smooth skin, Minju. I never imagined this. You’re really my fan, right? You mentioned you watched me in RU next Yes, I am Alright, I am gonna suck your dick now Um, okay, I’ll be gentle, I promise She takes off your pants and briefs. Showing your hard cock to your favourite idol She was shocked by the length and girth you have. Wow, you're so big.

Thank you, I guess.

You gasped from the way she grabbed your rod, spitting on it as a makeshift lube. Slowly jaculating your dick. You are in ecstasy as seconds pass; you feel like you’re going to cum from just a handjob. Ugh, Minju slows down a bit. Am I reaching it already? I guess it's because of me. She slowed down a bit, but this time using her mouth. She kisses your tip, slurping her own spit on it. Tasting your pre-cum is like juice. She then takes it and swallows slowly, inch by inch, in her mouth. How is she good at this? You asked yourself. You thought this was why they'd debuted; they probably got used by the higher-ups. But you cleared that in your mind; you just thought of what is happening at the moment. Slurp.” Hmmm, I love your cock, Y/N. Its so big and juicy. I am glad you like it. I am getting close to it. She swallows all of it while looking at you, having the begging eyes like she's not satisfied. Alright, time to fuck me now, Y/N. You’re special since this is my first time with a fan. Are you not a virgin anymore? She nods, then gets up to align her freshly shaved pussycat with your dick. You feel your body losing strength as it enters the heavens of Minju. Oh my god, you’re so tight. I can’t believe I am inside you, Minju. Just like that, do you like it? Yes, I am getting comfortable now. That's what I want to hear. Now bring me your game. Yeah, fuck me all you want. She's in a cowgirl position on top of you, having the sight of a goddess and her small, cute tits. You moved your hips up, trying out how to fuck a girl.

I am not good! That's right. You’re hitting my G-spot. The face she’s making fuels you. The cute, innocent-looking Minju is now a cute, hottie, sexy girl, wanting to be fucked. After a minute, she told you to change positions. Ugh, maybe doggystyle? I don’t know my position. Hmm, do you want to see my face? Then I’ll lay here and insert it while looking at me. Alright, you did what she said; you have a full view of her from top to bottom. Now, deep in this state, you just want to taste every part of her. You carry her legs to your shoulder and lick her toes. Wow, getting bold, good boy. Just like that, lick my toes. You get close to her as your body starts to lose some energy; getting this close to her wants you to kiss her. You tried to get it, but she avoided it. Um, sorry, no kissing yet. Oh really, my bad. No, I want to cause you’re cute, but that's one of the rules. Okay, Another change of position led both of you to lay down on the couch. This time you can only see her back, but your cock is still in her. Ugh, like that, Y/N, I am going to stop. You want me to stop? No, she shouts, Okay, okay, continue to fuck me like this. You continue to go inside of her, eventually feeling that her walls are getting tighter. Hinting that she's cumming.

Yes, ughh, ohhhh, yesss, just like that, I am cumming, babe. I am about to cum too, Minju GOOD. Yes, cum inside me. Yes, you can cum in me. YES, just fucking cum in me Okay okay OHHHHHHH, Yes cum in me baby. Ugh, this is so good. After cuddling inside her, both of you were just silent on the couch. She then hugged you and kissed your cheeks.

Don't tell them I kissed you, okay? Okay, I won't. Hmm, how about we do this sometime again, but with no time restriction? You down? For real? Yeah, I like you, Y/N. Maybe we can do more. Oh, alright, give me your number. She then gets dressed, giving you a wink. She looks like nothing happened, but the atmosphere in this small corridor is screaming sex.

I had fun. Did you? Yes. Hopefully next time you win again, haha. Well, I will try. Alright, I’ll call you later. Okay. She then left as the time with her ran out. You stand outside thinking of the things that happened today; not only did you meet Illit and Minju, you have just had the best experience a fanboy has ever had.

Hmm, what happened to the other four guys? Fin. A/N: A late Birthday smut for my girl. Is this the first Illit Smut here? Not proofread cuz I am lazy. Also it got fucked halfway in terms of formatting.

#park minju #illit minju #illit #smut #male reader #fan meeting #illit x male reader

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frozenjokes · 1 day

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I’m Really Sorry About The Whole ‘Crush On My Alter Ego’ Thing, But We Could Still Totally Make This Work

Grian woke up early to a harsh alarm as he had every day since Scar’s.. confession..

The sun hadn’t even risen yet, but it probably would in an hour or two, so Grian wasted no time getting right on his morning routine. Which is to say. Doom scrolling for at least an hour before actually getting up. Though before choosing one of many social media platforms to waste his time with, he checked his texts, expecting to find a meme or work schedule change from Cub, and instead:

Good morning sunshine👊👊👊👊👊!!! ❤️ Time to get ready for another day of stopping crime and KICKING ASS👉👊👊‼️⚡️⚡️⭐️✨✨💥💥💥💥 I would say I hope you slept well.. but I KNOW you did and that your going to have a certifiably SLAY DAY⭐️💥⭐️💥⚡️⚡️⚡️ I just wanted YOU to know that your killing it (👊👊👊👊👊👊) and you’re awesome and very cute😳 like cUtEgUy you know and everyone loves you❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️Me included!! Can’t wait to see you today🫵🫵👊👊🫡💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥 *dhoots arrow* HOTGUY

It went on for quite a bit longer, but Grian had seen enough actually, and consequently was no longer inclined to stay awake. This would be a problem for future Grian.

Future Grian was not very happy with past Grian when he woke up a few hours later, stumbling in his disoriented state to the kitchenette for coffee. Cub was at the kitchen table scrolling through his phone, and once Grian had the presence of mind to interrogate him, he pulled up the text, shoving his phone in Cub’s face.

“What is this. Did you have something to do with this? Did you write this for him? That’s probably something you’d do. What’s your prerogative here?”

Cub took a long moment to read, a small smile creeping across his face before outright laughing, “Oh, this is great.” Cub gently took Grian’s phone to keep reading, adjusting his glasses, “It just keeps going. How long do you think he spent typing this?”

“I don’t know! I don’t care! What the hell am I supposed to do? Why is he even texting me in the first place?”

“I’m failing to see how this is a big deal. He’s probably just sorry about the Micah thing and this is how he’s chosen to express that. Oh- here. ‘You don’t have to worry about seeing Micah again because I killed him. He’s gone.-‘ several explosions emojis ‘-I also tried to kill HotGuy but when I brought it up to one of my buddies who’s in with the higher ups he said No No Definitely Not Do Not Bring This Up To Anyone Else Ever For Your Own Safety so I’m feeling a little bit more insecure about my place in the world but that’s okay! I mean I know my life has always been in the hands of government doctors but I didn’t actually think through those implications until right now. You know me though, I’ll just keep doing my best! HaHa!’ Oh god. That’s a lot more text with very few emojis. Do these things not have character limits? I don’t think he’s okay actually. This just keeps going.”

“The- Okay, how am I supposed to be upset at him after you just read all that out to me? This is not fair. Can we just put that aside for later because how the fuck am I supposed to look at Scar in even remotely the same way after Micah- You can not possibly understand, Cub, I told Micah everything. We like- connected! And it was just fucking HotGuy the whole time! The guy I can’t fucking stand!”

“Out of costume I think he prefers you just call him Scar.”

“Okay. Sure. Fine. Scar fucked my brain! How can he even expect me to look at him the same way! He just let me think for all that time he was a different guy! Do you know how crazy that is? He talked shit ABOUT HIMSELF constantly! He tricked me!” Still, after a whole week to think about it, Grian couldn’t make sense of that. That he had met someone, made a real connection with a real person, but he hadn’t, not actually, because all of it was a facade. It was just Scar. But it didn’t feel like just Scar- it felt like Micah. Micah, who was just an act. Micah who he’d never see again. And maybe that hurt the most. That he’d lost someone like that. That he’d lost a friend. Someone who he thought might be able to be more than a friend.

“If it helps I think he has serious enough issues with his identity that he was not just ‘Scar but playing a character.’ Micah was a different person to him, I think.”

“Yeah.” Grian’s shoulders sagged, the idea not much of a comfort, “That. I got some idea of that. He was asking me a lot of questions about alter egos when-“ Grian cut himself off to groan loudly, “This is so stupid. This is so stupid. He needs to go directly to therapy for weeks at a time so I don’t have to see him for at least another month.”

Cub shrugged, “Maybe it would be good for you to see him. Maybe you should go in today.”

“How would this help me.” Grian glared, but Cub wasn’t looking up, still reading-

“I don’t know,” Cub said, setting Grian’s phone down on the table to return his focus to his own coffee, “I just kinda want you to.”

“Seriously.”

“I do. You’ve both been a bit of a wreck all week, maybe this’ll clear the air. And unless you plan on never speaking to Scar again, which is not practical for your work or your home life, you’re going to have to tear the bandaid off at some point. If he wants to apologize, you should let him say what he has to say at the very least. You don’t have to forgive him.”

“You- Are you in on this? I think you’re in on this.”

“I didn’t know about the text. Honestly, the majority of that message comes off as very.. in the moment. I don’t think that was planned. But he has a plan. No idea what. He wouldn’t tell me. It’ll probably be funny though.”

“So do you want this to fix me or do you want to laugh at me?”

Cub waved a hand dismissively, not looking up from his coffee. “I want to laugh at Scar.”

“Great.”

“You should go to work though.”

“I know your motives, Cub.”

Cub only shrugged. “Yeah, but I’m also just curious. I want to know what he does. Don’t you? Wouldn’t it be sad if he planned some sort of big I’m Sorry event for you and you never showed?”

“This is extremely appealing to me.”

“But then you’ll never know what it was. Or if it even happened at all.”

“Scar will text you.”

“He might not.”

Grian scoffed. “If you want to see what Scar has done so badly then you can go and see it for yourself.”

“You think security would let me in?” Cub looked a bit too excited by that idea, the kind of expression that crossed his face holding Great Intention. Always a terrifying look on Cub, and definitely not something to be encouraged lest he get himself arrested.

“I don’t know. Probably not.”

Cub deflated (a great relief), but didn’t budge on his prior sentiment. “You should go.” Grian rolled his eyes.

“Well I am going, I want to go, but I'm not trying to see any of Scar. If he wants to talk to me he can chase me down. I’m not playing into anything he has planned.”

“Oh,” Cub blinked, then looked back at his phone, “Great. My job’s done then.”

“You are in on this!”

“I maintain my innocence. Hope it’s a good day though.”

“It won’t be.”

“If you say so.”

Grian rolled his eyes, taking his coffee off the maker and heading back to his room. He dressed in his underclothes, grabbed his bag, then headed out with a passing goodbye. Cub’s focus was elsewhere anyway, getting ready for his own work. One day Cub would be able to quit that damn job. Now that Grian had he means, he was going to make sure of it.

…

With the ample warning, Grian made sure to steer completely clear of his and Scar’s offices. He intended on lingering here as little as possible, only dropping in to change and collect a radio.

Apparently Scar had anticipated this.

“Well hello there!”

Grian didn’t catch more than a glance of him before slamming the public office door closed, but had to open it again seconds later because what the fuck was Scar wearing.

Scar had laid himself out over the center desk, dressed head to toe in the most garishly abhorrent green crop top, booty shorts, and sparkly jewelry Grian had ever seen all on top of his uniform. ‘IM SORRY’ was written across the chest in neon pink fabric marker chicken scratch, a miserable failure at matching CuteGuy’s colors. The entire outfit clashed so horribly that Grian couldn’t help but stare, for a moment too long apparently because Scar took this as an invitation to continue speaking.

“CuteGuy! I had a rose for you, but you took your sweet ass time getting here and I got bored, so I ate it instead. You know how there’s rose flavored candy and shit? Does not taste like the flower. Would not recommend. Actually!” Scar rolled over onto his stomach, kicking his legs, and Grian choked on a snort when he saw the text across Scar’s ass said ‘WHORE.’ “I was trying to spit it out, you know, and I’m pretty sure my saliva is purple now. It turned my water purple. I might have poisoned myself.”

Grian found himself stuck between bafflement and a laugh, but he refused to show Scar he was any amount amused by this display, his voice stilted in suppression when he finally spoke. “Give me. A radio.”

“Sure thing!” Scar plucked one off the dock, spinning it in his fingers before tossing it across the room. Grian caught it, turning on his heel to leave. “Hey! Where are you going?”

Grian didn’t feel the need to answer, shutting the door behind himself as he went, but it wasn’t long because he heard the tip-taps of Scar’s boots behind him, not running, but certainly trying his best to catch up.

“Did you see my message this morning?”

“I saw it.”

“Did you see the part where I asked to take you to lunch?”

“No.”

“Do you want to go to lunch then? Later, obviously. You don’t even have to go with me!”

Grian scoffed through a chuckle, rolling his eyes. Ridiculous. “No thanks.”

“I thought so. That’s okay! Maybe another time! I’m going to go now, but it was nice to see you, CuteGuy!”

Grian frowned, not responding or turning around. If Scar wanted to dress like an idiot, that was his prerogative. Grian wasn’t going to be the one to stop him. He had actual work to be doing.

…

Grian liked how often he got to fly in this line of work. CuteGuy the villain didn’t fly anywhere; he laid low, he scouted the streets from roofs of buildings, he stuck to the shadows. ‘Grian’ didn’t fly much either, not without a reason. Sometimes he’d fly just like anyone would go for a walk, but he liked doing something, he liked having places to go. As much as he loathed superhero culture- and the whole damn city for that matter- he loved this.

It wasn’t unusual for a crowd to gather at the scene of a fight or crime, but maybe Grian should have known that a crowd this large, this dense, was a red flag. It had been a couple hours since he’d set off into the city, so his guard was down, he was in the zone. He had just assumed someone was hurt. That people were trying to help or panicking. Clearing the crowd revealed otherwise.

Scar was laying on the sidewalk, still wearing his clashing clothes, signing a book from a fan before shooing them away while looking distinctly like the two of them were in on some sort of inside joke. He.. didn’t have his legs.

“CuteGuy!” Scar swooned, drawing a gloved hand across his forehead, “I have fallen and I can not get up! I need a handsome and capable superhero to assist me!”

Grian cringed, but despite the majority of people having backed up, no one seemed to actually have left, encircling the both of them in a tight barrier. Scar knew plenty well how their fans felt about the two of them, (Grian had stumbled upon some.. choice pieces of fanart before) and he’d never miss an opportunity to tease under the scrutiny of eager eyes. Though, there was something beautifully normal about that; the teasing, the invitation of banter. The kind of normalcy you long for, even when things aren’t well. (Even when Micah was never real, even after you lost a friend.)

“You’re plenty capable. This is a severe waste of my time.” Grian flapped his wings, not intending on leaving, just needing more space from the onlookers.

Scar watched him carefully, delight dancing across his face when he realized that Grian was going to stay. “Well of course, of course, but going all that distance walking on my hands? No no, I don’t think so! I don’t even want to think about the kinds of calluses I’d get! And it would take hours.”

“Serves you right. Did you make sure that call only wired to me?” Grian huffed, making a grand show of his annoyance since Scar couldn’t see the roll of his eyes. And.. well.. he couldn’t quite help himself with the crowd. Everyone gets a kick out of dramatics sometimes. “Where’d your legs run off to anyway?”

“Oh! Funny story! The Goat took them.”

“You paid him to do that?”

“That would have been a really good idea! But no. He just happened to see me, and after laughing at me for like ten minutes he said ‘iF yOu aRen’t uSinG thEsE tHen I wiLL’ like he does, you know him. It was a little ominous actually. I’m a bit worried. My doctors are going to be pissed when they find out, so personally, I would rather be delivering this news with legs in hand.”

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah. It’s not ideal. If it wasn’t already clear, I’m going to need help getting them back.”

“I hope you know how unbelievably a ‘you problem’ this is because I am not helping. Good luck hunting him down. First I’d recommend calling someone to bring you your chair.”

“No!” Scar jolted upright, proving just how capable he was of not laying pathetically on the concrete, “I want you! Look, look at me. Listen. Close your eyes.”

Grian made a face, scoffing to hide the hint of amusement that was threatening to show in his expression. “Do you want me to look at you or do you want me to close my eyes.”

“Listen. Imagine. HotGuy and CuteGuy: Dynamic Duo-!”

“This sounds awful.”

“-I’m up on your shoulders, we’re infiltrating The Goat’s home base together! You’re punching bad guys and I’m shooting my bow from above-“

“And how do you think you’re going to hang on, huh?” Grian interrupted, tapping his foot.

“Obviously I’d-“ Scar moved, seeming to realize too late he didn’t have the legs he was planning on using. This did not deter him, a sharp smirk splitting his smile, “Velcro!”

Grian snorted despite himself, “Yeah. That’d be perfect, wouldn’t it. I foresee zero issues.” With a great irritation that gripped him out of nowhere, Grian was suddenly aware of other voices, the crowd, speaking loudly amongst themselves. Someone started to chant his name. Another chanted ‘Velcro!’ That caught on much faster. Grian flapped his wings far more aggressively when the crowd began to close in, hitting civilians out of his personal bubble, but this didn’t seem to be very effective, anxiety crawling under his skin as the attention started to be too much. Scar seemed to notice, but despite his efforts to control the onlookers, they were too rowdy, too caught up in their excitement to listen.

“Goodbye.” Grian hissed, straining to be heard, and Scar half-shrugged, a possible attempt at apology.

“So that’s a no, then? You’ll fetch my legs at least, will you?”

“No.” Grian beat his wings hard, forcing civilians out of his way and prepping to take off.

“Oh! Okay! Have a nice day then!”

Grian was gone before he could hear another word, before any other body could brush the backs of his wings. Anger painfully out of proportion boiled in his stomach, spilling out and staining the rest of his insides in its pulsing fire. He wasn’t angry at Scar. Well. He could certainly blame Scar, luring him around and speaking like that, stoking the fire of fans who adored the both of them, but Grian hadn’t minded the show, he hadn’t even cared all too much that he’d been tricked, not when the resulting interaction felt so.. normal. He liked an act. He liked being CuteGuy. So why was he so upset? And maybe that was it. He was just angry for no reason, and that made him angrier, because despite everything, despite trying so damn hard, he was still broken.

He could punch someone about it. He wanted to punch someone about it. Cub wouldn’t want him to.

So he flew instead. Flew like he liked, fast and far and high until the air was too thin, then let himself fall, playing games with his life as he hurtled through the sky before catching himself under spread wings and doing all of it over again. Eventually he got tired. Eventually he had to stop. But the aftermath of a senseless episode still buzzed under his skin, nearly as unpleasant as the burn that caused it. Grian could feel it. He could feel it under his skin. He wanted to tear it out. He wanted to fly, exhaust himself until he couldn’t feel anything at all, but he was too tired, so instead he found himself gliding to Cub’s workplace. He didn’t know where else to go.

“CuteGuy-“ Cub’s manager was frightened by his sudden entrance, stumbling through the front door aggressively enough to rattle the attached bell into senseless noise.

“Hello Diane.”

“How do-“ but Grian cut her off with a frustrated groan, not caring to listen as he dragged himself to the back. Cub looked even more startled to see him than his manager did, though surprise quickly melted into concern when Grian collapsed into a pile of cardboard boxes. He grunted. They were not as soft as they looked.

“Ah CuteGuy, friend of HotGuy who I am friends with and know for this reason- it’s fine Diane, it’s fine, let me just- I can handle it.” Grian heard the soft arguing from the doorway, but didn’t care to say anything. He didn’t care to think. He just wanted to be better.

Eventually the door closed.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Cub’s hand flew to his shoulder and Grian viscerally cringed, lips parting in silent discomfort until the hand was swiftly drawn back, “I’m sorry. Do you need me to call an ambulance? Are you okay? You’re not okay.”

“I’m not hurt,” Grian mumbled, narrowing his eyes against Cub’s panicked expression in his peripherie. “Angry. Stupid.”

Cub jolted in his recognition, gears shifting immediately. “Scar, then. Was it Scar? I mean, I can’t say I haven’t been keeping tabs on the news- social media, the like. I’ve seen more than a few videos- people are going kinda nuts over nothing in my opinion but- It was too much. I’ll tell Scar to stop bugging you, he’ll stop.”

“It’s not Scar. I don’t care about Scar.”

Cub made a bit of a face, enough for Grian to tell he wasn’t so sure about that, but Cub didn’t voice the thought, instead asking, “What happened?”

“Nothing happened. Nothing.”

“Is- I’m struggling a little with the tone, man.”

“I don’t know! I was fine, I was kinda having fun and then I just wasn’t and out of nowhere everything just sucked and I was so mad and that’s not supposed to happen to me! Nothing happened and I wanted to rip out my hair and punch things and I didn’t, but now I just feel stupid! Why is my brain so fucking dumb.”

Grian let his head drop, face down in a pile of cardboard, but Cub didn’t move, intense in his silence. Eventually he sat down, right on the floor. “I need to break these down anyway,” he hummed, almost subconsciously as he leaned to grab something off his desk. The next couple minutes were filled with the sound of a boxcutter against tape and cardboard. It wasn’t awful.

“Do you want to know what I think?” Cub asked, not much more than a whisper. Not like he was sad or anything either, just focused on the task at hand.

“Okay,” Grian mumbled, the word coming out entirely indecipherable as anything but a noise of assent.

“I think you were nervous this morning. I think maybe you had an alright day, but got overwhelmed near the end. You can be having a good time and still get overwhelmed. There were a lot of people around you from what I could tell; it looked kinda claustrophobic.”

“But I didn’t- I didn’t care. It was like a switch in my brain just flipped! No build up!”

“Sometimes that’s how it happens. Sometimes there is build up and you just don’t notice until it’s too late. It’s not always so simply defined. There’s not always a reason. And there doesn’t have to be. You’re not regressing because you had a bad day, Grian. You’re not stupid.”

“I feel awful.”

Out of the corner of Grian’s eye, he saw Cub nod. “Yeah. I get it.” Cub continued with the boxes and Grian didn’t speak, only shuffling a little to grant easier access to the few he was laying on. But Cub stopped almost abruptly after breaking down one box, the room blanketed in a meaningful silence. “Have I told you yet? How damn proud of you I am?”

The question jolted Grian out of his daze. He didn’t know what to say. How to respond. “I haven’t done anything.”

“Of course you have. You’ve been dealt a pretty shitty hand of cards, but you haven’t stopped working with them. You haven’t given up. And you have your moments, you have bad weeks, bad months, but you still pick yourself back up at the end of today. I think you’ve grown. I don’t think Grian from a couple months ago would have walked away from the crowd and taken his anger somewhere better. I don’t think Grian from a couple months ago would have come to me. I respect you, Grian. You’ve come so damn far. I’m proud of you.”

Grian shook his head. “I haven’t done anything. It’s all you. I don’t pick myself up at all, you’re just pushing me back on my feet.”

“I haven’t known a single person that overcomes any of these kinds of challenges without support. That doesn’t make you any less capable, Grian. You’re still standing on your own two feet. I am proud of you.”

Discomfort burned in Grian’s chest. Cub didn’t get it. He didn’t understand. “It’s all for you. I’m only here because of you.”

“Having a strong motivator doesn’t discount all the hard work you’ve put in for yourself. You want to be better, Grian. You give your blood, sweat, and tears to make it happen. I’m not just dragging you along. You go to therapy and work your ass off. You keep track of your meds. You make the decision to walk away when all of you wants to haul off and kick someone’s shit in. You do it. You. And maybe most impressively, every time you fail, get arrested, relapse into old behavior, you peel yourself right off the concrete and try again. And there’s nothing harder than that. So that’s why I’m proud. That’s why I will always be proud. You’re a good man, Grian. You’re good.”

Grian didn’t know what to do with that. A soft chill rippled through his form, shaking him in his entirety despite its gentle nature. All of him felt so heavy. His lungs were full of lead.

“Can I have a hug?” A meek question, but he didn’t care.

“Of course.”

Cub’s touch sent another wave of coolness riding through his veins, contracting his muscles, making him sick and heavy and limp. And then, slowly, a steady march that began in his chest and spread outward; warmth. A soft, perfect warmth. The kind of love that could make anyone believe they were something to be proud of.

#hermitcraft #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #hotguy #grian #cuteguy #cubfan135 #scarian #desert duo #convex #convexian #hermitshipping #hermitfic

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sherlock-is-ace · 1 day

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Just some thoughts about DID Holmes in Sherlock & Co.

I need to preface this by saying I don't have DID, all I know about it is from reading and hearing people who do have DID talk about their experience. I can be wrong, I don't mean any harm by it and I encourage people to correct me (just please be kind).

Ok so in the Sherlock & Co. canon, Holmes has DID, amongst a variety of other things, which is a new and interesting thing to explore with this character. I'm not sure if we'll ever see it explored in the show, or if it'll just stay a part of a long list of what makes Sherlock neurodiverse. But I've been thinking about it and I'd like to dump my thoughts here.

I think it makes absolutely perfect sense for Sherlock Holmes to have DID. Even in the ACD canon, Holmes isn't known to have had a good childhood and a good relationship with his parents. Jeremy Brett liked to think Holmes didn't see his mother until he was like eight years old. Lots of neglect, coupled with the struggles of being a "difficult child" because of his perticular cocktail of disorders (ADHD, ASD, SPD, DMDD and ODD), is just the perfect recipe for repetitive childhood trauma that could very well develop into DID. There's no question in my mind that it was a good decision (at least an interesting one) to give Sherlock DID in this adaptation. And that got me thinking about how much he probably struggled with it.

I chose to believe that Sherlock achieved final fusion years before he met John. That's what makes the most sense to me. We know he's got official diagnoses for these things, so it would make sense to me that he got professional help for his DID as well. And based on his personality, and his need to be in control and know all the information available to him, I think final fusion would be the result he would have seeked, as opposed to functional multiplicity.

Now of course one can't logic their way out of neurodiversity, and one can't just logic their way into final fusion. But what works and doesn't work has to have some connection to the way someone is, and I think Sherlock Holmes would have worked his ass out in therapy to achieve final fusion because I think it would have been a horrible time for a man like him.

I'm thinking about how he would handle the amnesia (we know his views in memory and identity), the loss of control when a different alter fronted, the confusion of "waking up" in a completely different part of town, disassociating in the middle of important (or interesting) tasks, etc. etc. I also think that perhaps, his addiction could have been a result of a persecutor alter.

As someone who struggles with communication because of his autism, I think perhaps that could also affect Holmes' communication with his alters. I genuinely don't know if that could be a thing or not, I've never met anyone who had DID and autism so I'm not sure how correct that assumption is. But if that communication was also a struggle, it would explain why functional multiplicity wouldn't work as well.

And I don't know, perhaps we'll have more glimpses into Sherlock's past in the podcast, and we'll learn more about his DID diagnosis, perhaps he hasn't achieved final fusion, perhaps he very much still struggles with switches and memory loss. We don't know, but I do hope we get to explore it more! It ads a new layer of complexity to the character that we haven't seen in other adaptations, and I really love that!

We know that Sherlock Holmes is always neurodivergent, whether that is explicitly diagnosed in canon or not. The whole point of Sherlock Holmes as a character, from ACD canon to any modern version, is that he doesn't think like everyone else. That is literally the definition of neurodiversity. To take that away from Holmes is to destroy the character. But what this adaptation did, by giving a name to each and every trait of Holmes is very interesting and I hope they can handle it well! So far I've been very pleasently surprised by the way they have handled Sherlock's autism. It is very much a part of him and it informs his actions, but it is not all that he is. And maybe it's because Joel Emery's daughter is autistic so he has more knowledge about it than the other disorders, but I still hope we get to see more of that as well, especially Sherlock's DID.

Alright that's all kdjfhg

As I said, I don't have DID so take everything I said with a grain of salt. But if anyone has thoughts they'd like to share please come talk to me! :D And if anyone has DID and wants to share their thoughts about Sherlock & Co. thought the lense of someone with the disorder please do! I'd be very happy to read about it. (Also my ask is always open if anon is more comfy)

#lemme know if i should put a ''under the cut'' on this because i might be too long #but also feel free to completely ignore it lol #sherlock & co #sherlock & co meta #is it? idk #sherlock holmes #angel talks

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nevesmose · 2 days

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I don't know anywhere near enough about Sanguinius to metaphorically crochet him into a little finger puppet for my primarch fics but how about a little baseless speculation about him and Fulgrim? Please note that this is all based on how I view them in the universe of my silly little stories and is in no way a claim about knowing how they are in canon / lore.

I would probably a) portray Sanguinius as a genuinely sweet adorable cinnamon roll too precious for this world and b) have Fulgrim utterly loathe him because of this.

I tend to write Fulgrim as being a pleasant and charming person who, deep down, is about 50% a deeply broken overthinking ultra-perfectionist and 50% really jealous and vindictive. Please understand that this isn't me saying he's just evil and always was because it really really isn't. It's entirely possible for someone with these traits to function perfectly well in society and not be a bad person in any meaningful sense.

However.

One of his formative experiences as a primarch was almost losing his entire legion due to the Blight corrupted geneseed that almost wiped them out right at the start.

He had to build them up himself from nothing with the constant threat of annihilation both in the sense that "if I fuck up a war and lose however-many thousand Astartes in a terrible accident on the double-ended dildo planet I have no reserves or replacements" and also "every use of our geneseed is a gamble against the horrific mutation coming back and destroying us all over again". In that context the solution he turns to, and the only one that probably makes sense based on his prior experience on Chemos, is perfection.

Make no mistakes, ever, anywhere, because the cost of failure is incalculable, even if it means committing science-treason so you can purge all weakness from your own space dudes. It's not a desire for perfection based on arrogance, although he is of course immensely arrogant in a lot of ways, but one motivated deep down by fear.

People like to clown on Fulgrim based on Jaghatai's infamous "I hear you do strange things to your warriors 😂👌" sick burn, but to be honest, viewed from his context, what Fulgrim's doing is somewhat understandable.

That is if we assume that the Khan isn't just making a cheap insult but rather is implying he knows a lot more than would be preferable about Fabius dicking around with Astartes genetics in order to detect and eliminate carriers of the corrupted gene-seed so that the III Legion, one of the smallest of all numerically, can still survive. And then a lot of other things too because, like Fabius could believably say in one of the weirder McNeill stories, forbidden science is akin to the ancient Terran delicacy known as Pringles. Once you pop you can't stop.

With that in mind it feels like a lot of Fulgrim's post-heresy actions, not just the snake orgies but the general distance and lack of care for his sons, comes from revelling in just finally being free of that level of stress and pressure weighing down on him at all times. Even Perturabo doesn't withdraw from the Iron Warriors that much and he's a dick.

Anyway, back to pre-heresy days. He has all this going on and then in comes Sanguinius with his giant fucking angel wings who everyone loves and who turned his legion into One Direction (not really but you know... perceptions vs reality and no one in this setting actually communicates with one another since they'd probably have a lot in common regarding fears of being mutants etc)

It's the kind of thing that I think would feel like a dagger in the heart to someone like Fulgrim. Directly highlighting and literally embodying all of his fears about mutation and imperfection and yet somehow appearing to get away with it while he has to exercise constant control and do horrible things simply in order for his legion to exist.

So for that reason I think he would absolutely hate Sangy and do everything he could to undermine him.

"Oh no, brother! I've accidentally spilled this entire Big Gulp cup of bright red Tizcan wine all over your beautiful white wings, and only moments before you were due to make a speech to ten million people about how wonderful the Imperium is! Let me help you clean it up."

And then he pulls out a Looney Tunes sized bottle labelled Fabius's Finest Molt-O-Matic Guaranteed Feather Remover and starts spraying it on him.

#he had the Big Gulp cup brought all the way from an ancient Terran dig site just so he could spill as much liquid as possible at one time #fulgrimposting #fulgrim #neves rambles #wh40k #warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #horus heresy

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moonlitcomet · 2 days

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I think what makes gildedguy and the dragon of mar such an interesting and wonderful story to me is the intense emotional depth within it. It is, without a doubt, a tragedy - the main antagonist is tragic, he's a character you connect to personally before the end of the animation. He's a character you want to help, but is doomed by his existence and his past.

[spoilers and lots of disconnected thoughts below]

And he's a character who our MC tries to help - but gets refused every single time, from the day they meet to moments before Mar dies. Mar is a sympathetic character but has lost himself in his own evil, and refuses to accept that he could change for the better.

He isolates himself - and seems to accept Gildedguy into his life as a potential new friend. Maybe the only friend he's had in decades. The amount of time they spend together, and the amount of time Gildedguy spends trying to help this man, is really what makes Mar's end such a huge gut punch.

A lot of people are criticizing the ending of story 8 as Sable killing Mar "for no reason", which is not only tone deaf but also completely misreading the entire story presented to them. This story was never going to have a good ending, but with the story being told from Gildedguy's perspective, we were given a twinge of hope that maybe just maybe he could send Mar on the path to self-improvement.

Mar has been evil, and has been pillaging and killing people for probably decades at this point, what with how huge his gold hoard and skeleton collection is. He is too far gone, in the sense that he has resigned himself to the idea that he could never improve. Us, the viewers, having an idealistic approach at a story that could only end in pain and suffering for at least some individuals involved, gives us more expectation and more pain when the realization hits you:

You can't save everyone.

Some crimes are just too severe to be forgiven, and even if they aren't, some people are just too lost in their own self-hate to accept your help. Mar's crimes have overtaken him to the point that he can hardly exist, or even look at himself, without retreating inside the dragon that protects him and is his vessel of violence.

Having such little things - such tiny twinges of hope and beauty - set off such a deep evil in you that you resort to lashing out and violence, is a sign of someone filled with hurt, pain, and tragedy. It's a sign of someone who is past saving, despite how much you want to save them.

Gildedguy was the knight in shining armor, he spent four months building this massive machine to protect the people he cares about - Mar included. He opened himself up to this man, he tried to connect with him on a personal level in a moment of vulnerability, showing his face and trying to make himself seem like less of a threat.

And yet, even to the end, Mar still refused him, which led to his demise.

Gildedguy is a hopeful, whimsical person who wants to befriend and help just about everybody he comes across. He connected to Mar on a personal level the day they met, spending time together and sharing food. He could see a little of himself in Mar, they shared laughs and smiles, and a deep-seated regret and pain.

And he feared a little bit, for who and what Mar is.

But even still, he was willing to look past what he saw in himself, and continued being kind to Mar, in a rare act of genuine kindness that I doubt Mar has ever seen.

This leads well into how much Gildedguy tries to help his new friend throughout the story, and how tragic it is that Mar had to die. Gildedguy related to him, but not in a way that could save his friend. And despite how Gildedguy saw himself in Mar, the same could not be said for Mar seeing himself in Gildedguy.

Ultimately, that is why Mar could not and would not accept the help. He couldn't think of anyone else who'd really, truly be able to handle the evil and pain that he goes through and inflicts upon others. He has no hope for himself. He has no life or color.

He is just a broken, tired, dead-inside man who knows nothing else aside from the dragon he hides inside.

And Gildedguy slowly came to this realization as the story went on. He didn't know what Mar had done when first meeting him. But he came across the hoards of gold, the skeletons, the stolen treasure, and the people he's stolen away and doomed to death and saw just how much harm Mar has done to the world around him.

In the end, he resigned himself to the fact that Mar did not want to be saved, as much as Gildedguy wanted to save Mar.

He accepted his death, as painful as it was in the moment.

#mine #gildedguy #i have SO Many thoughts about this animation y'all i am Energized

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jocelynscrazyideas · 2 days

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Could have been you | John Marino x Reader

Summary: have you ever felt the pain of waiting for your lover? And waiting and waiting until you walk in, and see them not with you anymore?

Warnings: language, might not make sense, mention of death, murder .And lmk if I missed anything!!

A:N- sorry this was rushed, this was requested and I forgot to write it under the ask, sorry!!

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Everyone knows John’s college nickname. The “female orgasm.” How great. I mean it’s true he’s so good at what he can do in bed, but everyone knowing it? Yeah no.

“Oh my. Seriously? Still?!” John whines out as we walk out of an Italian restaurant. John, Dawson, Nate, and Jonas brought their girlfriends to our dinner. It was nice, each man payed for their couple and we all split the check. I ordered carbonara and cheese toast. John ordered in a plate of lasagna with lobster on the side. I hate seafood, so I refused to share food with him today.

“Are you and y/n going through something?” Nate asked John when the wags went to the bathroom.

“Are you and John fighting?”Jess, Nate’s girlfriend had asked me. “Nate asked me to ask you. But you know that if you need to, our home is yours as well.” She lets me know that I’m always welcome, which we’d both know that Nate is saying the same shit to John.

“thanks, and jess… yeah we are fighting but it’s nothing serious .” I don’t feel comfortable talking about what happened with me and John, so I just walk back without the girls.

I’m quite literally drunk. I’m still walking back to the table as I see John walk up to me. “Here’s you drink baaby.” John hands me a tall glass with clear vodka in it. I’m not going through anything, it’s just I haven’t felt so angry at the love of my life before.

“Thank baby.” I say as I sip on my vodka. It’s bubbling, like a lot, but I’m drunk so I don’t think anything of it. “Mhm.” John hummed between his lips in ageeement.

“Let me walk you to the car. The guys payed, and are waiting for the girls to leave the bathroom. We’re heading out. Okay? Back home it is.” John lets me know our plan to stop at the gas station before we head home.

I feel sick. I bend over to throw up in front of our car. Or so I thought was our car.

I wake up at this home. Not mine. I turn over in this bed I’m laying in, and I see a man with curly hair, brown eyes, and a deep envy smile. He’s looking at me as if his gong to kill me.

I scream out for John. I’m scared, I start to cry, I feel air in my throat, it’s lodged in in my chest and I grasp for air as I get up and run. I’m wearing my nice red silk dress that I slipped on last night for our dinner.

“Who are you?” I whimper out as the curly headed man stomps over to me. I’m at his front door, which won’t open, I’m terrified.

“You know me. You love me.” He answered

“I don’t know you.” I responded, I’m sure he can feel my fear as I speak. Y back is pressed up against the white door, I feel pounding on my back.

“Open the hell up!”

John?

That voice sounds like John. He needs me.

You know that jerk of energy you get, as if you’re falling off a cliff in a dream, or if you’re getting shot. Yeah. Well I woke up from that jolt of fear.

I’m not myslef. I see this white void. I walk into it, but as I’m standing in the fields of flowers I walk back into the white light. I see everyone staring at me. Except, I’m in a casket.

“I love you. I know you thought he was me. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I said before you left me.” John pleaded, tears in his eyes, he seems drained.

What happened?

My stomach drops.

“Y/n Marino was pronounced dead, as of Tuesday, March 19 2024.” A news broadcaster had reported my death.

No. That’s not right. I’m right here. I’m staring right at my Johnny.

“I miss you.” John says as he stares up into the sunlight orange skies, he knows my favorite thing is to watch the sky get lit, or to darken by the minute. Stars start to poke through the sky as he looks up.

“I love you John.” I whisper. I try yelling at him telling him how much I miss him. But my coarse voice is the same as I was before I died.

I died that night when I woke up in that strange man’s bed. Last thing I rember was being terrified, pressed up against the door, feeeling John pound into the dooor waiting for it to open.

He had tracked my phone to this address. John walked in to the apartment room to me dead, blood pooling around my body. The man had shot me. Stabbed me. And right in front of my lovers eyes.

but the true reason why I got so mad at John that night. Well it was because he and I have been trying for a baby, I’m engaged to him. I wanted a baby. Our wedding was taking place in April, so I would only be about 4 weeks pregnant, if the wedding had happen.

I had given a a few miscarriages on the way if getting pregnant.

“I don’t want a baby. Not anymore.” John had told me, right when we entered the restaurant that night.

His nickname was a waste of my time. “The female orgasm?” Yeah no.

Its to late. I’m dead, and dead with my baby inside of me, and no one knows.

#jocelynscrazyideas #hockey #nhl #johnny hockey #john marino #nhl fic #hockey blurb #🍇🍇🍇#njd #new jersey devils #john marino x reader #quinn hughes #jack hughes

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