#it hurts not seeing many people talk about it

[fairy-angel222]

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐃? 𓂃 ࣪˖ ཐིཋྀ⋆⭒˚.⋆༄

—gojo satoru x fem! reader

𓈒⟡₊⋆∘ your husband’s already given you two children, one more wouldn’t hurt right?

𓈒⟡₊⋆∘ cw: fluff, smut, breeding, praise, petnames, squirting, impregnation, dirty talk

𓈒⟡₊⋆∘ a/n: requested by anon, i loved writing this so much

Eight years.

You and Gojo had been married for eight years. Having met each other in high school, him being the one to get down on one knee the second you both had finished college. He knew you were the one for him ages ago.

That you were his from the moment he met you.

Some would say that you two were living the dream life, despite how young you both were. Gojo never hiding the fact that he was willing to spoil you day by night.

He loved you more than anything. And he never failed to show that through the many acts of affection. His favorite one being buried deep inside you as he whispered the sweet nothings into your ear.

The sex drive of your marriage was high, that was a fact. It was how you ended up with two children in the first place. Two girls who looked exactly like their dad, not even bothering to try with your genes. They had his complexion, his hair, his overly beautiful eyes. They had everything of his.

When you had your first daughter, most people in your life assumed she was an accident. Assumed that Gojo had simply “forgotten” to pull out.

They didn’t know how noisy you’d gotten that night, holding onto your husband tightly as you begged him to fill you up. Begged him to put a baby in you. You wanted to feel all of him.

Your second child was all him. Him begging to give you another one. To pump you nice and full with one more baby. And who were you to say no? You two were building a family and you loved it.

Four and two.

Those were your daughters’ ages, beautiful girls who looked almost identical to each other, obviously. You liked to call them and Gojo triplets. And it made his heart swell knowing that they were something you had both created. Together. Even though they clearly had a favorite already.

His daughters clung to him every second that he was around them. Refusing to let daddy go as your youngest sat in his lap with an adorable grin. Giggling softly as her big sister tied scrunchies into the soft bed of white hair.

“Mommy look! Daddy’s all pretty now,” she clapped, clearly proud of her work as she pulled lightly at the short ponytails.

You watched Gojo grumble under his breath, unable to hide his smile as he looked up at your standing frame. Cheeks tinted red when you laughed softly. “He is baby, he’s very pretty now. Looks just like you two.” Leaning down to peck both their cheeks with a smile of your own.

You yelped softly as you were pulled down, sat on the other side of your husband’s lap as he smirked. “You know who’s just as perfect as you two? Your mommy.”

Your older daughter hummed, cuddling into your lap with a nod. “You are very pretty mommy. Wanna look like you when i get big.”

You couldn’t find the words. As much as you knew that was impossible, it warmed your heart to the core. Especially when your other daughter nodded in agreement, fitting herself on you beside her sister. “You’re very very pretty mommy.”

“Thanks my babies.” You smiled warmly, an arm wrapped around each of them as Gojo wrapped one around you. “Now, you owe me a little kiss too.” He pouted. You giggled, pressing your lips to his in a short kiss before pulling away.

Neither of you wanting to hear the exaggerated ewww that escaped from your daughters’ mouths when you kissed for even a second too long.

You liked to think that you got lucky to have such sweet children. The kind that makes others actually want a child of their own.

—

You loved your life. Everyone could see that. But it had been way too long since you and Gojo were able to spend some alone time together.

It wasn’t your idea, it was his. And you couldn’t not give in when you allowed yourself to think about it. A weekend all to yourselves with complete privacy. A chance for you both to relax.

It was Friday, and you rung the doorbell to your dear friend Nanami’s house, a childish grin on Gojo’s face as he waited for the door to swing open.

Nanami raised a brow upon seeing you two, a cup of coffee in his hand as if you’d interrupted his peaceful morning.

“Uncle Kentooo!!” Two high pitched voices rung out. Little legs running to hug the blond man by his own. Nanami’s eyes widened momentarily, steadying the mug in his hand away from the two latching on to him.

A small smile gracing his face when they grinned up at him. “Well hello you two.”

Gojo grabbed the cup from his friend when your daughters started making upsie signals with their hands. Nanami picking them both up on either side of his torso, turning sharply on his heel as he asked them about their week.

“If that isn’t the sweetest thing I don’t know what is.” You giggled, Gojo’s hand on the small of your back as you brought in two pink princess bags. “So.. Kento-”

“We need a favor.” Gojo was quick to cut to the chase, Nanami not bothering to even watch him as he let small hands play in his hair. His emotions far from the bored expression on his face.

“I’ll watch them.”

“Thank you so much Kento. My parents will be coming for them tonight.” You smiled, the man only nodding with a hidden shrug. “You’re just lucky they’re nothing like him.” Pointing his head in the direction of the man sat next to you.

“Hey!” Gojo gasped in faux offense, “I’m awesome thank you very much.”

Nanami only scoffed. And you and Gojo stood up to give your girls a final hug and kiss to their foreheads. “We’ll see you on Sunday okay my darlings? Grandma and grandpa will come for you later yeah? Mommy and Daddy love you so much.”

“Uh huh, bye mommy, bye daddy!” They sung together, something else that they tended to do from time to time.

As you walked out of Nanami’s house, ready to go home and pack a few clothes, your head tilted. Confusion evident on your face when you looked up at Gojo. “Doesn’t he have work today?”

“Yeah but he adores them. He’d skip work everyday if he had to.”

It was true, Nanami was one of your biggest supports. He was always willing to take them off your hands for even an hour. He hated to admit it but he loved them like they were his own. He truly thought of himself as an uncle.

You found it adorable how serious he was until he was sure you left. Allowing himself to give into their tea parties and makeovers. He was one of the people you trusted most.

You knew that your daughters were in good hands for the day, especially since Nobara and Yuji would be there. Their inner children coming out whenever they were around your daughters.

—

Gojo had taken you to a hot spring resort nearly two hours away. One of the best that he could find.

You were in awe the second you stepped into the place. Never getting used to the amount of money Gojo was willing to spend on you.

The room was huge, and to say it was gorgeous was an understatement. But it paled in comparison to the view. The large steaming pools which were adorned with large marble sloped rocks and tall trees. The whole resort enclosed within mountains which seemed to touch the clouds. The sun setting behind beds of luscious green as the sky glimmered pink and orange.

It was perfect.

Snd the first thing you did after settling in was head into the heated waters. Breathing out contented sigh as you sunk neck down. Allowing the warmth to calm every last one of your nerves. The tension you didn’t even know you had in your shoulder slowing subsiding as you leaned your head back onto one of the large rocks.

“This is amazing.” You smiled, blinking your eyes open to look at your husband, who kept complaining that the area he was in was too hot. Not allowing himself to go any further than his legs until you pulled him into a hug.

Letting the water flow in place at your shoulders. Ignoring the over dramatic faces that your husband was making at the “heat”, simply resting your head in his neck as you relaxed in each other’s arms.

—

The tv blared ever so slightly as you cuddled into Gojo’s side. The coolness of the room unable to beat the warmth that still stuck to your skin. You had just got off a call with the girls. They were at their grandparents’ house. No doubt having way too much dessert before bed. Though they’d most likely get to stay up late watching cartoons.

“You know..” Gojo started, his fingers trailing soft shapes on your skin, “We should have another one.”

You lifted your head off of his chest, “I don’t think they’ll sell us drinks right now love.”

“I’m not talking about drinks.” Your stomach fluttered when Gojo turned you over, his knee in between your thigh as his lips ghosted over your ear. “I’m talking about putting another baby in you.” Allowing it to brush over your clothed clit.

Your lips parted in a whimper when he kissed down your neck. Swiftly pulling off your shirt to kiss at your chest, taking each of your nipples into his mouth while he fondled the other. Your hips bucking up into him when he began grinding his hips slowly into you.

You shivered when his lips touched your belly. Peppering it with small kisses as he hummed against your skin. “Let me make your belly swell.”

You moaned softly, nodding your head eagerly. “P-please.”

“Hmm, gonna give me a third one sweet girl? Gonna make us a pretty family of five?” He husked, kisses getting more aggressive as he trailed back up. His cock twitching at the little whimpers that you failed to contain when you made a noise of agreement.

“Mhm, ‘m gonna give you another one. Wanna give you another one.”

“Yeah?” He breathed, looking for that final bit of confirmation before his lips smashed onto yours. The kiss hard and needy as he worked on removing the rest of your clothes. His fingers dipping down between your folds with a groan. “You’re so soaked f’ me pretty.”

He ran his hand up your slit teasingly, rubbing tiny circles onto your clit making you whine out. “Toruu, no teasing.”

He chuckled, his thick cock prodding at your entrance as he lifted your legs to wrap around his waist. Your hands instinctively draping around his shoulders so that he was pressed into you. A loud moan sounding through the room as he sank into you.

You let a small mewl escape your lips with every movement of his hips. His thrusts gradually increasing in pace till he was hammering into you. Pulling his length almost all the way out before slamming it back into you.

Bright blue eyes met yours, your breathing getting heavier as your back arched off the bed. Nails digging into the skin of his back as you were rocked back and forth. Your husband’s thick cock stretching you out so deliciously as it repeatedly kissed your sweet spot. The position allowing him so deep inside you that he bulged lightly in your stomach.

“Toru, nngh— so good. Ahh.” You were getting noisy. Your cute babbles mixing with the loud echoes of his skin hitting yours. The mere force of his loving making it twice as loud.

You could only moan shakily as you pulled him even closer. Drool covered lips parting in sweet cries when your nails scratched down his back. “O-oh fuck. Ahhh.”

“Taking me so well. My pretty little wifey, can’t wait to see you carrying my child again. Fuck,” He grunted, squelching noises growing louder as your sticky pussy leaked onto your thighs and his. The whole roomed filled with your lewd sounds of pleasure as you both fell into each other. “Gonna fill you up real good baby. Stuff that messy pussy so full of my cum and watch that belly swell.”

Your legs trembled at his words, your hold on him tightening as the rhythmic slapping clouded your brain. Your vision blurring with tears as your stomach tightened. Every nerve along your walls being set on fire as you were fucked like you’d disappear in any moment.

Gojo’s sinking to elbows at the sides of your head for you to cry into his broad chest when you felt yourself nearing your high. “Toruu— so good Toruu, so g-good.”

“Hmm you’re close f’me,” he groaned, your pussy holding him snug as your body shook. “Shit, gonna make you a mama of three. Gonna give it to ya so deep— f-fuckk. Look at me when you cum.” He whispered lowly, your glassy eyes peeling open to blink up at him dumbly.

“Nngh— ‘m, a-ahhh, Toru ‘m so c-close.” You couldn’t think. Your brain unable to process anything but him and the way his cock was fucking into you so good. Your thoughts blanking out as you were engulfed by an indescribable pleasure. Mouth opened in a final cry as you fell off the edge.

“That’s it. Cum f’ me baby. Make a fucking mess on my cock. There you go— just like that.” His thrusts never slowed as a high pitched scream bubbled in your throat. Your body trembling uncontrollably beneath him as you let go. Sopping pussy gushing all over him just the way he liked it. His thrusts never losing their pace as you squirted with a continuous string of moans.

Your husband’s thrusts got sloppy. Head falling into the crook of your neck as he unknowingly slowed down. His thrusts hard and deep as he moaned into your delicate skin. Finding it adorable how your little mewls began to match his pace.

“Love this pussy so fucking much. Could pump her full of my cum every fucking day. Shit— here it comes baby.” His slow thrusts synced with his words, lips capturing yours hungrily as he buried himself deep inside you. Tip sat at your cervix’s entrance when his cock twitched. Spurts after spurts of the the thick substance flooding your insides with heat.

Gojo pulled away from you, a small string of saliva connecting your lips to each other’s. You stayed clung to him like a koala to a tree. Tiredly smiling up at him when he pecked your nose. “If we keep having children every two years we’ll end up with fifty grandkids.”

He chuckled, resting his forehead against yours. “So, what are we gonna name her?”

“Her?”

“You have only sisters baby, i don’t think it’s in your genes to have a boy.” He joked, both of you laughing as you thought to the truth of his words.

“I wouldn’t mind a boy,” You sighed softly, using your finger to brush away the loose strands of hair that fell over his eyes. “I think he’d look just like you.”

Gojo’s hand rested on your belly, using his thumb to rub over it softly. “I’d love either, only cause i’d know that i made them with you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “I love you so much.”

“ And I love you more than you could ever imagine sweet girl.”

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru #jjk x reader smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo

[admirxation]

Actress / Leon Kennedy oneshot

boyfriends dad!Leon Kennedy x afab!reader

summary: your boyfriend has brought you home to meet his father, but it turns to a non conventional meeting when your boyfriend goes to sleep.

cw: this fic contains cheating, I do not condone everything I write; this is just fiction where real people cannot get hurt, please read the warnings and continue at your own discretion // 18+ heavy smut (mdni), cheating, kissing, touching, tit grabbing, grinding, fingering (f receiving), finger sucking, degrading, unprotected sex (p in v), and creampie.

word count: 2.8k

thank you @valslullaby for this idea, my fellow older man lover, please check their fics as well they’re so good

When you told people you were going to college, the description and the idea of college tended to be romanticised, further enticing you to the whole ‘college experience.’ These conversations usually involved older people looking back on those former years through rose-tinted glasses and appreciating the simpler times, wanting to regress to that time when troubles weren’t as hard, where your biggest stress was getting an assignment in last minute compared to getting the rent due and food on the table for you and the whole family. The conversation tended to have them blissfully remembering how much they could drink and how they could handle the hangovers back then, remembering how easy it was to make friends in the same class as you and all they could do now was focus on a good credit score and getting on the property ladder.

But the conversation of college didn’t just come with remembering the good times; it came with some advice, some embarrassing advice you didn’t want to hear about—the sex talk. When you accepted your dream college's offer, the “be safe” talk was constantly repeated; you remembered how you wanted time to quicken and have the conversation end every time it started. You understood that they just wanted to keep you safe; after all, you would rather them tell you what to avoid than just outright forbid and have you get into some serious trouble—but who in their right mind wants to want to discuss their sex life with their parents?

The conversation consisted of the basics you already knew: you can say no anytime (obviously), make sure he uses a condom, watch how much you drink and who you’re going home with, the usual safety many people knew and practised. However, while you remembered it all in exact order to recite, you never thought you needed to use it when you entered the dorms since you didn’t have much luck when it came to your love life. That was until you met him—your current boyfriend.

You two were in the same class, him sitting next to you; it started with him acting stupid and you sharing your notes, compliments on how smart you are, later going to the same afterschool study sessions, then getting closer with every day that went past. At first, you didn’t think too much of it, thinking this would be a casual relationship that would end in the first semester, but then you started seeing each other more frequently; he was even buying you countless gifts that made you wonder what in the hell he was doing to afford it all. Then it turned to him meeting your parents; you tried not to admit it to yourself, but you wished that they wouldn’t like him, hoping to use it as an excuse to end things, but alas, they loved and approved of him, commending you for your “great taste” in picking a partner. You just smiled and hugged him that night as he gushed about his excitement about what they thought, but all you could think when nestled on his chest was: I’m forever stuck.

He was lovely and a nice enough guy, but something about him was off, maybe a touch of immaturity, not having much in common or just an outright lack of interest. Continuing your cowardly streak, you agreed to meet his father, wishing things would pick up after his first meeting.

The days rushed by when it came to driving back to his place, and you received constant text messages from your parents reminding you to be polite and make a good impression. A part of you was thinking about pretending to be rude and unlikeable, but you couldn’t bear someone thinking of you like this, especially an adult, after being raised to respect your elders, like most people.

You were quiet for the whole car ride, not sharing a single word, hoping he would perhaps disapprove of you—a girl could wish to get the easy way out.

As you two approached the front door, you heard heavy footsteps come closer and the clicking sound of a door unlocking. Later, you were in Mr. Kennedy’s gaze. You gave him a warm smile, watching his eyes widen as he quickly looked you up and down.

“Ah, it’s lovely to finally meet the mystery girl my son can’t shut up about,” he said, seeing your boyfriend roll his eyes in embarrassment as he entered his house. “Come in, come in.”

“Thank you, Mr. Kennedy,” you showed him respect.

“Oh, no need for formalities, just call me Leon… Mr. Kennedy makes me sound so old; I don’t need the reminder of how the years have slipped by,” you couldn’t help but let out a small giggle at his words; you never imagined his father to be like this, the way he described him didn’t fit the current person you were greeted with. Your boyfriend described how much he looked up to him, how he was his whole world and that he would trust his instincts; if he disliked something, he would dislike it; if he loved something, he would try his best to find a love for it. At first, you found it ridiculous how much he needed Daddy’s approval; you even told him he ought to just make his own thoughts. But standing there in his presence, you could understand; he had a gentle and subtle touch of influence in his stance, but also an overwhelming quality about him that made you want to follow his will.

Another thing you couldn’t deny was how attractive Leon was. You expected some normal military dad who was such a bore, but you couldn’t help but steal a few glances at the attractive older man.

For the whole night, Leon made you feel welcome, helping you with your bags and asking you for any refreshments you would like; your boyfriend mentioned how he hadn’t seen him so happy and eager for years; it must have been the presence of a lady, you thought. You forgot about the desire to have him dislike you; you even thought of continuing to ignore those feelings as nervousness in the relationship, but at the moment, you were so invested in everything Leon was doing and saying to you—you couldn’t describe the feeling he had over you.

As the night wore on, you saw your boyfriend’s eyes get heavier, but you were still wide awake as your conversations with Leon continued at the same pace as in the early afternoon, all the way to the late evening.

“I think I’m going to bed now; I’ll see you tomorrow,” your boyfriend gently kissed your cheek, automatically reciprocating it as he trudged upstairs back into his room, hearing the heavy door click into place.

Your heartbeat picked up when you noticed it was just you and Leon in the same room. You thought about all those thoughts you had when you first saw him, how you analysed his stature, how you looked at how his biceps filled the sleeves of his shirt, trailing down to his hands and how he used them in his manner of speech.

Whatever junk was playing on the television went on for a few minutes after your boyfriend had gone to sleep, and you noticed how Leon leaned back in his chair and listened carefully toward the bottom of the stairs, trying to hear if your boyfriend had gone to sleep already.

“He’s a fast sleeper,” you tried to break the silence. “I’m quite jealous of people who can hit the pillow and sleep -” You weren’t expecting to be cut off.

“Hmm,” a smirk played at the corner of his lips, making your curiosity peak. “You know, you’re a very good actress.”

“E-excuse me?”

“I know you don’t love him, gods, that kiss was pathetic… I know you don’t want to kiss in front of his old man, but that kiss was… plain… Does he really eat this shit up?” You were shocked how he saw through your facade; no one, not even your friends, who thought they knew you better than anyone, could see your true feelings. You felt anxious, like a cold spike that hung around your heart, that sensation in your chest; you were nervous about how he looked through, but in a way, relieved? Relieved that someone could finally see how you were walking on eggshells in your so-called ‘serious relationship.’

You sighed: “I’m sorry… Sir… I didn’t —”

“…Just because I’ve seen through your little act doesn’t mean I think of you differently.”

“Why? I’m kind of wasting your son's time,” you paused for a moment, “I didn’t mean for it to go as far; I just wanted something casual, and I—”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep at night, sweetheart, I don’t need to hear the excuse… I always knew… He showed me pictures of you… I was shocked he wasn’t making it up; in all honesty. A very pretty girl I thought, and I’m glad my theory was right.”

“You’re going to tell him when he wakes up?” you wanted to be prepared for when he would take the news, trying to talk to yourself and make sure you came clean until you heard Leon’s next words that curated a shake into your core.

“No, I think he can find out when he uses his brain… But I will say, this information does make me happy.” Your eyebrow peaked in interest, and you wondered what he meant. “It makes me feel less guilty.”

“For what?”

“Don’t play coy… I’ve seen how you’ve been looking at me,” you blushed as you swished your head to avoid eye contact, your heart thumping like an animal in a cage the moment you heard and felt him get closer, sneaking into the cushioned seat right next to you, placing his fingers on your chin and turning you to face him, “Don’t be shy now. I have to say I was excited to see that beautiful girl in the pictures; I’m quite glad she’s right in front of me now.”

“I, I, don’t think we-”

“Oh, now you’re a good person?” he teased with a taunting tone in his voice, slowly leaning back, “If you want me to stop, I will… just say the word, dear,” he tilted his head to the side, showing you he was hearing out for a ‘no’.

You couldn’t deny how much you were curious about what he was thinking. You were ashamed but also wanted to indulge in how Leon thought about you. You bit the bottom of your lip softly, slightly licking your lips as you briefly thought about what you were doing. You thought about the implications of cheating on your partner, for a little bit of fun, especially with his father, but that part of you couldn’t care about the right thing as you had Leon staring at you.

“Fine, I’ll —”

“No, wait… I don’t want you to stop,” you say in one breathless sentence.

“Hm,” he leaned in closer, placing his hand on your cheek as he brought you to his lips, “Just tell me when you wanna stop, darling,” he said as he pressed his lips onto yours for a moment, “and don’t worry… I’ll keep your little secret. For now.”

Your heartbeat continued to beat quickly, and you felt your blood rush through your body as you closed your eyes and got lost in his kiss; your lips brushed and glided against one another, and his tongue slid slightly in your mouth and smoothed over and around your tongue. You softly moaned into the kiss as your began to lose yourself even more, your fingers trickling through his blonde hair, feeling yourself drift into the experience as he pulled you closer as he placed his hand on your lower back and collided his body against yours, your arms wrapped around him as he slithered up to your chest.

His hand rose to breast, squeezing the mound that drew soft and whispered moans, continuing to meld into your soft plush as he continued to kiss you through your tender sighs; you instinctively moved your leg around his, making invitation for Leon for push you further into the sofa, not breaking from the countless interlocks and sensual touching. You felt him grind along your clothed pussy, feeling his growing bulge along your cores heat, pushing and rubbing against you as he continued to sway his hips forward and grind into your pussy that was already getting wetter the more the kiss and touches deepened.

He moved from your breast, grinding his index finger on your already hardened nipple, smirking at you not wearing a bra: “hm, you come prepared,” he said as you left a final strong squeeze and continued to graze down your torso, slithering to your core and lifting your dress up, placing a collective of his fingers along the wet patch of your underwear.

“You’re already soaked, you dirty girl,” he whispered in you ear, before leaving a subtle nibble on your earlobe that drew a deeper breath from your lips, arching your back into him as he continued to rub along your covered clit, squirming as his fingers went in perfect circular motions.

“Mm, fuck,” you moaned in a whispered hush, biting your lip as Leon stared at your core, no longer being able to wait as he wrapped his fingers underneath the waistband and travelled the material down your hips, staring at your glistening wet cunt as he discarded the cloth onto the floor, lost in thought as he proceeded to touch your heat, feeling how wet you were the more he circled along the bundle of nerves, your puffy clit stimulated more and leaving you to try your best to keep hushed tones.

“You’re such a beautiful girl,” he whispered to you, then proceeding to place his hand over your mouth, “now try to be quiet darling… we have a secret to maintain.”

He pushed his index and middle finger inside your wet hole, creating a catalyst for your widened eyes and drawing in air for a deep gasp as you felt his long fingers penetrate inside of your walls, feeling him pump in and out, using his thumb to press along your needy clit; your eyes rolled to the back of your head, exposing the whites and seeing a blurred vision as your walls tightened around his fingers, making his cock grow harder against his pants.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he expressed as he continued to pump his fingers, licking his lips as he felt and heard how wet you were, “and all because of me… easy to please a slut.”

Your breathing hitched into a tremble as he poked the right spots, a tingling sensation within you as you closed your eyes and got lost in his expertise before he slowly took away your excitement, feeling your hole flutter from neglect as you stared at him licking his fingers: “you’re a sweet treat,” he complimented as he wrapped his fingers around his trousers and glided them off, seeing his large member and feeling it slap against your pussy.

“Do you want this?” he asked as he positioned himself to your entrance.At first you nodded to which he replied: “be a good girl and use your words, or I’ll leave you squirming.”

“Yes… I w-want you, p-please L-“

“You can call me sir now.”

“P-please Sir. I need you.”

“Good girl.”

He slotted his length to slide into your aching hole, pressing the head of his cock against your walls before hitting the cervix with his tip; “god, you’re so fucking tight,” he groaned as he swayed his hips as he continued to fuck you.

Saliva collected at the corners of your lips, as your body swayed up and down as Leon pressed his hands into gripping your waist, pounding his length inside you and you trying your best not to scream out; oxygen felt scarce the more you gasped in need for him.

“Shh, shh, shh, try to keep that pretty mouth quiet darling,” he cooed as he continued to rock forcefully inside you, feeling a wave inside you about to erupt in motions.

Your eyelids fluttered as your walls spasmed around Leon’s large cock, feeling his balls slap against your ass, him lifting your legs around his neck to get deeper and bruising your delicate cervix even more.

Your blood rushed through your veins all at once, as you released a muffled and large orgasm trapped by his hand over your mouth, feeling your stomach coil up into a knot as you released and made a mess all over Leon; but he didn’t care, as he continued to push further and deeper as he watched your tits bounce to the rhythmic thrusts he gave to you.

Before you could recover from your orgasm, feeling your cunt continue to pulsate, you felt Leon’s movement quicken into rougher grinds; as your moans got more laboured and strenuous you felt him drape your walls with his hot cum, swimming out and covering your walls and pooling out, making such a mess.

In a moment of recovery, Leon stopped to catch his breath, keeping himself inside of you and watching you gasp for air, before dictating you: “Go clean yourself up, no one likes a messy slut.”

a/n: the partners dad leon fics are literally my favourite to write atm, and i’m glad to see so many people going feral over them hehe. just wanted to note that i am working on father in law leon kennedy series, and im thinking of not continuing the las plagas series as i don’t find myself or others liking it. thanks for anyone that reads and I appreciate and am grateful for all the engagement.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #smut #boyfriends dad!leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader smut #cheating leon kennedy #resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x you #fanfiction #leon s kennedy x reader #cw cheating #boyfriends dad #leon kennedy imagine #imagine #leon kennedy imagine smut #death island leon kennedy #death island #leon death island

[astonmartingf]

YOU'RE IN MY MIND, IM IN YOUR SHADOW ; FA14

fernando alonso x ferrari teammate! reader . . . after getting involved in a race accident with fernando, you're left with the repercussions of that crash

amgf accidents, crashes, and hospitals, it's just angst uhm yeah, it's angst, who compelled me to do this 😀🫵 literally no one ever but enjoy 👍 AHAHAHA. i bet you weren't expecting this but here you go

One blink and it all came crashing down.

Literally.

It all happens so fast, it's usually how it goes, one second you're trying to maneuver into a turn, the next you feel your teammates' front wing behind your back. And from then all you see was black.

"Miss LN? If you can hear us please blink your eyes." Wincing, you pull back from the glaring light in the room. Immediately the smell of antiseptic and bleach fills your nose, scrunching from the overwhelming scent wafting in the room.

You blink adjusting from the light, gulping at the dry feeling on the back of your throat, you don't attempt to talk. Closing your eyes, you shake your head, ignoring the questions as doctors and staff hover over your bed.

You knew better than to misbehave, it wasn't the doctor's fault, they were just doing their job, something you didn't do clearly as you got into a crash.

What a rookie mistake— you couldn't care less about the pulsating pain all over your body, knowing fully well they won't hurt as much as the blow of being dropped off by Ferrari.

You knew deep down they were going to choose him. Fernando Alonso, teammate, rival, lover.

Opening your eyes, you're greeted with fewer people in your room. Mainly your manager, physio, a few members from Ferrari, and Flavio Briatore. It only dawned on you what had happened.

You crashed onto Fernando Alonso, and right now his manager is in front of you. Just how long were you under? How much damage was done to the car? There were so many questions going through your head, mainly of Fernando, second of your career. What was going to happen after this?

"Where—" The dryness of your throat scratches back at you, coughing from the unexpected friction. You accept the bottle of water offered to you, it was only then you realized the sore and numb feeling of your body.

You gasp as the bottle slips from your fingers, leaving you staring at your manager, tears welling down your eyes. The feeling of vulnerability seeps through as you look away and stare at the pool of water beside you.

You watch your team tiptoeing around you, their eyes filled with pity. It's sickening. Lifting your blanket you catch a glimpse of the bruises littering your body, shifting in the bed your face scrunches feeling you back burning in pain.

Your manager holds a new bottle of water in front of you, this time with a drinking straw on it as you glance around the room looking for inkling clues on Fernando's whereabouts. Your thoughts trail back moments before the race.

Sneaking in his room beside yours, away from the eyes of the cameras capturing every moment of your rivalry. You still hold the warmth, the lingering feeling of his kiss before the race began. His words, whispering sweet nothing in your ears, replaying every moment before you stepped into your car. It was flashing in front of your eyes, it only scared you more.

He was nowhere to be found, and the silence around you only made it more frustrating, they could only stare at you with the sickening pity on their eyes. No one stepped in to talk first, the rhythmic beeps of the machine connected to your fingers supplying the only source of sound remaining in your room.

Pressing the button, all eyes turn towards the television. Coincidentally you're greeted with the familiar Ferrari Red on the screen, you notice your car turning on the familiar corner before being flipped in the air. It was only then you realized that you were watching Fernando's on boards.

Your eyes scan the news headline in red, "FERRARI DRIVERS' YN LN AND FERNANDO ALONSO INVOLVED IN A COLLISION DURING LAST WEEK'S GRAND PRIX." The date on the other side of the screen indicates the day of the week— it's been three days. Three days it took for you to wake up, with Flavio in your room it must mean one thing.

"He's in a coma."

The words the doctor said as you sat in a wheel chair, in front of Fernando's door. The smile on your face dissipates, frozen in front of his hospital room. Fernando wasn't awake yet. With shaky hands, you drop them off the doorknob, instead you push yourself back to your room.

You couldn't bear looking at him. It would be unfair to blame it all on him, but it hurts you more that he was the one who crashed into you, and look at what he had done. Not just physically, you're on the verge of breaking down every second of the day, tears pulling at the corners of your eyes and you couldn't say anything.

To your team, you were just mourning the loss of the race and points, but deeper you were worried about Fernando, he was your boyfriend for God's sake yet you couldn't do anything. You couldn't even defend him as rumors and articles slowly come out about the crash, with Fernando's ulterior motive making you lose points for the Driver's Championship.

You knew what they were saying wasn't true, but with the isolation and avoidance of the situation you slowly begin to spiral in the what ifs and question if there truly had been some power play before the race.

Fernando wouldn't do that to you? He wouldn't... And as the hours turn into days, your desperation for answers gets clearer by the day. You find yourself sneaking into his room, wishing nothing but to pour your heart out in tears, and crying yourself to sleep. But you couldn't.

You couldn't even let yourself be vulnerable for a second, because to them, you were rivals before teammates. You just sit and stare at him, watching as he breathes peacefully, unaware and no clue of the commotion he has caused.

You can't help but laugh at the situation you're in. Three years ago, you'd laugh and pray for his downfall, only three years later you would find yourself crawled up in his sheets, grasping for warmth, getting the last minutes of sleep before sneaking out of his hotel room and playing the character of his racing rival.

You smile to yourself, wiping the tears off your eyes, "I'm not mad at you. I don't care if you planned this, you could crash at me for the rest of the race, I'm telling you please wake up. If you blame me, I would take it, I'd take that, tell me you hate me. Tell me it's my fault, I just want you back."

By some stroke of luck, or that your prayers had worked Fernando woke up the next day. You woke up to the sound of whispers in your room.

You heard from nurses that the patient from 3314 had woken up. You find yourself preparing to meet him, looking forward to a nurse inviting you to his room.

What wishful thinking.

It had been days since Fernando woke up, yet you were still blind to his condition. Despite feeling better, and walking to and from the hallways you haven't heard anything about Fernando.

"Good morning YN, we're going to visit Fernando today." You raise your brows at Flavio's words, unsure of his implications. You knew of their close relationship, but you both decided to keep your relationship under the wraps— as tight as can be, that really there are only two people involved, you and Fernando himself.

The rest of the world only saw you as racing rivals and nothing more, which made you bitter given the situation. There was always an ulterior motive behind the interactions with you two, and even now, you couldn't believe yourself for staying away from him so long.

Maybe it's because you were focused on your healing, and the wishful thinking that Fernando would also keep you in his thoughts as he recuperated, albeit slower than you, you prayed that you would meet him soon, despite being placed two rooms apart, you barely saw glimpses of him, much to your dismay.

But maybe it was for the better, your mind immediately blanked out after his doctor spoke about his condition. His words pass through your ear and out the other, standing still with both feet glued in the same spot, hands growing sweaty and bracing yourself from the impact of his words.

"He— Fernando has amnesia? Is that what you're telling me?" Your voice is slowly thinning out, shaking away the tears building up your eyes, your heartbeat picking the pace as you're left to fully comprehend what the doctor said. Giving yourself little to no time to prepare.

You stop Flavio from opening the door, "Does he remember you?" You watch Flavio nod his head in confidence.

"I doubt he will forget you, you're his rival out there, he's been asking about you since he woke up."

Your ears perk up at his words, nodding to yourself. Of course he'd say that, Flavio doesn't know a thing. You let go of his hands, along with the nerves building up.

Trying to not let your excitement show, you follow Flavio into the room, matching his pace hiding behind his figure to hide yourself from Fernando. Flavio moves aside and you're struck, slowly taking in Fernando's state, the bandages no longer crowned on top of his head as you scan the healing bruises on his body.

"LN. You're here to pray for my downfall? I bet it was your recklessness that caused this crash." The coldness of his voice felt like water splashed all over your face, throwing you off.

Flavio instinctively moved you behind him, shocked at his hostility.

You stumble behind, lost in your thoughts, he hasn't called you that since you were together. You dare your eyes to catch a glance at his, it was no longer filled with the same softness he cast upon you when you're alone. Instead you were met with the cold glare in his eyes, "What are you staring at for? Think you can beat me now that I'm injured? You better watch your back LN."

LN. He hasn't called you by your last name for the last two years, not in public anyway. When you two were alone, it was always, amor— or some stupid nickname to set you off.

You deny the idea of him forgetting about you two, thinking if this was one of his games, a rather cruel one to play, but it wasn't as if you'd have it any other way. You look through his eyes once more, ignoring the clawing feeling in your heart, the pressing signals in your head to stop, but you can't help but try once more. Maybe this time, he'll realize and see it in your eyes. The relationship you have together, buried in the memories of your longing eyes. "Do you really not remember me?"

Fernando rolls his eyes with a 'tsk' "Now you're getting annoying, I told you LN, stop with this good girl act and get out of my room."

You don't need to be told more, turning your feet, you feel the room blur as your vision shakes, the ringing in your ear grows as you make your way to your room. Muffling the sound of your tears, you feel your legs weaken, back leaning against the door, shaking your head in disbelief.

Fernando was finally awake. Fernando survived the crash and is finally healing.

But this Fernando has forgotten four long years of history. Four years ago, back when all you were to Fernando was another rookie in his way, filled with hatred and not love.

#f1 x reader #f1 angst #f1 imagine #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso imagine #fernando alonso angst

[levyfiles]

some people are mad at steven for a moral issue, tbf. regardless of your thoughts on watcher’s streaming service he did still say he has racist and homophobic friends. he still goes to a homophobic church.

I absolutely recognise that you must have been recently introduced to The Pod Clip that the twitter teens who hate him preserved to break out whenever it's a fresh moment to rally hate against him, but I would advise anyone just receiving this clip from August 2020 being passed around with the angle that Watcher tried to hide this. I and many others were there and just know that I have a zero tolerance standard for people who show no remorse or growth when they uplift racists and bigots.

Mine and other fans who were startled by the statement hoped publicly that it would be an opportunity to clear the air for Watcher because the current political climate was just finally examining anti-blackness in everyone's biases and as someone who is mixed-African growing up in an Asian household, I know that anti blackness is and has been a normalised mindset in the Asian community.

But the thing is, months before this, Steven platformed Tammy and her colleagues to discuss how all of us can work together to stop Asian hate and one of the conversations I highlighte back then was how very clear Tammy was that allyship from the Asian community to the African-American community was tantamount to moving forward. That the us vs them rhetoric has and continues to be harmful for both parties. Ryan and Steven were very involved in this discussion and agreed wholeheartedly.

Having said that, the narrative around the podcast ep never had a chance to be discussed rationally. It really ended up skewed because Steven's response to the backlash from that clip was this

I hope that's legible to you. Many people who felt uneasy about what he said felt a lot better and his intention to say something at the top of the next episode would once again, unfortunately, get derailed because Twitter users (some who are particularly loud about loving and supporting Watcher yet constantly join in on the throng of bullying as soon as the tide turns) were adamant that they needed Watcher to post the clip and Steven's apology publicly on their youtube front page and on the main socials, to literally advertise it when the reality is that not many people were watching/listening to the podcast. For what reason would it be intelligent or good business practice to broadcast this hurtful moment so that more people could get hurt by it?

Watcher's response amid the harassment was to release a full podcast episode where they all discussed what they would do going forward to show that they are allies, not just by not being racist or homophobic but by being anti-these things. They showed that they cared about their impact. It was emotional and devastating to watch and by that time, we knew the pod was likely going to wind down. 2020 was already a miserable time and it was made worse because no matter what Steven or Watcher said at the time, the "stans" on Twitter wanted the man fired, they posted memes saying the world would be better if Steven Lim didn't exist, they wanted him shamed by his staff, and for Ryan and Shane to publicly disavow him. Many of these so-called devoted fans raided the server to yell about how Steven's alleged homophobia hurts them, most of them were white and pointedly talking over people of colour telling them "it's not your apology to accept!". It was a blood bath.

And I see waaaay too many of the same faces utilizing this completely neutral move--that of COURSE could have been executed better--to terrorize Steven, to make petitions to get him fired, commenting on his wedding photo telling him that Tammy should leave him, posting those same damn disgusting memes because you see, a whole bunch of people forgot how disgusting and evil this vendetta was to the point where even watcher's socials started to FOLLOW some of these genuinely mean-spirited individuals. They didn't give a shit about a movement or activism.

What kills me--what absolutely THROWS me--is that these same people expect to be able to return to interacting with the staff, attending live shows, buying merch and sending fan mail as soon as the hate tide winds down. All these people so concerned about a statement referencing faceless hypothetical racists and homophobes that Steven never named nor attributed any context for--as he was never given the chance--are so quick to dehumanize and caricaturize real human beings to their faces and they think this is a normal and acceptable behaviour.

You'll have to excuse me, as an older fan who has seen my fair share of normalised homophobia and racism in these communities, if I disagree.

#watcher #steven lim #discourse

[reneezsq]

haven

❛ !¡ pairing; neuvillette x gender neutral!reader.

❛ !¡ summary; through the hazy reminiscence of all that has been lost, the delicate affection consoled by the croon of the deceased one reappears, and it comes back like the billows swaying with the marine creatures.

❛ !¡ warnings; sagau, idk the genre tbh it’s sad but also cute at the end ?, not impostor!sagau but reader is not worldwide known as the creator.

❛ !¡ a/n; he smells like vanilla mixed with sea water, trust i’m hoyoverse.

He saw the coming and departing of many people. Immortal ones, who’s legacy has been lost with the time and that shall never come back. Mortal ones, who’s name has been passed down by their descendants, but the meaning has been lost through the myriad of different tales uttered in hopes of honoring them. Amongst them, he lost some people dear to his heart.

Many he does not even remember the color of their eyes, a laughter that he will never hear again, and that will be lost when the time will come to let them go of his mind. Some others have left a more prominent mark on his heart. His sorrows embraced by the waters themselves, and anyone that would dwell too deep would see just how much his only wish is to have one last word. For one, he never got to say goodbye, as she never really knew herself she would have done what has been done. She simply wished to appease the hearts. And for him, a companion that had stood by his and her side, a companion whose last question echo in his mind. He never really got an answer himself.

And with those, he can still feel the soft brushing of his hair. A hand soft and rough at the same time, laced with scars from the countless cuts that have been done to the world they had created, embedding it with love only to be destroyed little by little. He should have seen it coming — their departure, that is what he is talking about, — he should have prevented it. But how ?

How ? How could he have done such a thing when at the mere mention of their children dying at each other’s weapons, they shed tears. Painting those cheeks that tasted like summer with the pain of a parent. They were never really mad at anyone and anything, they had just lost the understanding and knowledge of what could be done by those they had created. They were a bit too candid on that field, believing that the golden age would remain as long as the grass was green, as long as the rivers were blue. It was all a lie, because even the gods of this world painted this beautiful dream with the red of their own veins.

And he was there. He cannot remember it all, if anything, the fact he is aware of the existence of such a moment is like having found a needle in a haystack. Because it is his past life that drowned in such warmth, not him. But he can still feel those moments, when the world hasn’t hurt them yet, when they were still his.

He found his own hair a nuisance at times, and every complaint on his end was shushed with a fugitive kiss that felt like the blooming of a flower in the heat of the spring. They would beckon him closer, and he would indulge this small trivial matter. A Sovereign and his Creator, basking in the golden hues of the dawn with the scent of rosemary and the fleeting protection of an everlasting love, like a flame that would never be extinguished. Even if a storm would have come, he knew back then that they would hold his hand and drown his worries in the deepest abyss he couldn’t even imagine.

And then, he would always feel it. Nails scratching his scalp with the tenderness of the moon kissing the sun. Those moments were as rare as an eclipse, they had duties and he did too, and when they found the time to love each other like they should, the next day would start, and with the fluttering of an eyelash, they would be gone with only a flower left for him to kiss. And they would come back when it wilted to love him a bit more, only to disappear another time, leaving him to love them a bit more as he waited. But, it was never the time to think of when they would leave, he preferred humming alongside them with the delusion that they would never abandon him.

He would always grumble when they teasingly stopped, letting him to plead for a bit more. And their arms would wrap around his neck, and he would grab their waist as he let his lips against this skin as soft and delicate as the clouds to convince them to show him again how much he meant in their eyes. And then, he would vibrate with sheer excitement and happiness at the pristine sound of their laughter. Like a siren trying to lure the captain in. Gladly, let him perish if he gets to hear that one more time.

During the days when they were a bit more weak, trembling hands attempting to braid his hair. They never admitted any weakness, but he could feel it all around him, and he could see it all around him. The birds were as quiet as a fish, as if daring to make them flared with a song too morose to make the atmosphere romancing enough. And when they would stop, to hug him and grab his hand tight, he knew that this crack on their skin was not an illusion. He had seen it in other immortal ones before they passed away, and he knew that it was hurting them. Even the almighty lacks the strength to duel the erosion. There was no point in fighting a lost fight.

Their last time, he knew it. He had guessed it was the last. Their eyes could not match the sun anymore, and it felt like the misery of the world was falling over him in an instant. Perhaps, he was the losing one from the start as he carried them all around Fontaine with the hopeless delusion that they would hold him a bit tighter, just this time. Strangle him to death, if they wish, he would indulge in any kind of destruction of himself if it meant they would remain in this world. Because Teyvat isn’t without the one that made it be. He isn’t without the one that loved him.

When they tightened their embrace, he felt no joy swirling in his heart. And his steps stopped dead as if he had become a tree whose roots were clinging to the ground deep below. It started raining. He never really felt the drops all over his skin and clothes, but he knows it by the last words they ever said to him.

“Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, don’t cry.”

That day, a part of him died too. They were freezing when he carried them to the streams, wishing that at least they could depart somewhere only the two of them knew. In his own fantasies, they were sleeping just a bit more deeply than usual, and he abandoned his jacket by their side to warm them up a bit. The last flowers they had given him were fully dead now, and it was his turn to have them some flowers. That way, they will know he loved them with all he had.

“Monsieur, is it all alright with you ?” His eyes met those of a small Melusine, standing proudly in front of him in her little uniform. He nodded and she knew he was lying, he only walked away after caressing her head, and she was left staring at the soaked scenery outside of the windows of his office. If only she knew how to console him, she had tried it all and he never gave any good answer. All that calmed him was playing with his hair in a certain way. Her and her sisters had to play with his hair, scratching his scalp, then stop to have him teasingly tickle them to continue. It was specific, perhaps he had gotten this habit from somebody else ?

His steps brought him to the shore, watching in the distance a scenery impregnated in his mind for a bit too long. He watched the waves come and go here for about the entirety of his existence, and the little marine creatures living there were no strangers to his company. They knew how well he enjoyed watching them give him some small shells that he would give back like a small funny game.

But this is when he heard it, the faint sound of shoes hitting against the sand a bit far away from everyone and everything. His instincts made him follow the noise like it was pulling him in, and he saw in the distance a figure basking in all the glory of the rain coming from above. They did not seem to mind it and were collecting some things on the beach like a child being given the authorization to do so by their parents a bit too used to this love of the water and all that came with it.

And he stopped a few feet away from this stranger, their eyes met his, and he could recognize the sorrows and happiness and pain and love he knew all those years ago. And he could have sworn that he was not in a dream. He wished that he was not in a dream, that this was a reality that was his and that he had found the one that he had lost, the one that had been his, the one that was his and that would remain as such for some more years. And with no sound, they smiled up at him, and the sun basked them in all the glory that was theirs.

Is this the meaning of coming back home after the storm ?

TAGGING:: @amxto; @dxmoness

#lumi.writes #neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x you #neuvillette x y/n #neuvillette x gn reader #neuvillette x gender neutral reader #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #sagau x reader #sagau #neuvillette sagau #sagau neuvillette #x gn y/n #x gender neutral y/n #x gn reader #x gender neutral reader #x reader #genshin impact #genshin neuvillette #genshin fanfic #genshin x you #genshin impact neuvillette

[x-liv25-jamieswife]

For the release of ttpd, can a girl get some sad Grayson hcs 😔✊ <3

sad grayson head canons

of course<3. i eat up sad tig hcs so i might make some for the rest of the brothers and avery (probably will). hope you like them! this one is going to be kinda dark (i like making my favorite tig characters suffer) so trigger warning for self-harm and suicidal thoughts/attempts. take care of yourselves, and try to talk to someone if you can. as someone who's been through a lot of shit last year, i can promise you things, at some point, start looking up (this might be corny, but i felt the need to say it) (i may be projecting in some of these cause i love making myself see myself in my fav characters if that makes sense).

grayson used to go out (like to the park or smth) and watch all of the kids playing with each other wishing he could be like them.

sometimes he gets so self-destructive he doesn't eat or drink water. he just lies in bed wishing he could magically die.

grayson heard the prochecy, the black dog, loml, and down bad from ttpd for the first time and started sobbing uncontrollably (so many other songs but yk, im not gonna write all of them down)

when he gets in those self destructive moods, he tends to piss people off/make people sad on purpose so that they'll get made and leave him (he secretly wishes that someone can see through all of his pain and be there for him)

very dark so trigger warning (even though i gave one at the beginning. you can never be too sure), grayson used to have scars on his ribs bc he would hurt himself. he never cut deep enough for it to actually scar permanently bc he 'has an image to uphold' according to tobias.

although swimming is a coping mechanism, it's also a form of self-harm for him sometimes. he swims until he can't feel his legs anymore, and sticks his head underwater for extended periods of time until he feels like he's about to drown.

i actually saw this in a conan gray interview, but he used to cross the street without looking left and right hoping a car would hit him.

he hears emily's voice in his head more often than he lets on. whenever he hears her voice, he'll press his nails so hard into his palms, they start to bleed.

he somehow managed to get his hands on some anti-depressant behind tobias' back and started taking them, but, sometimes, when he was especially suicidal, he would try to overdose on the pills. it never worked.

he's convinced himself that he deserves the pain he causes himself/the people cause him.

tobias knew about his unhealthy coping mechanisms but didn't do shit to help him bc didn't want him to 'soften up' making grayson think his grandfather thought he deserved the pain.

grayson will purposely make himself stay awake for days on end bc he doesn't think he deserves to get sleep sometimes (he needs to work. in his head, everything will go to shit if he doesn't)

sometimes he'll go swing on this swing they have in blackwood forest to feel like a kid again (it sometimes works)

he has this stuffed teddy bear nash gave him when he was a baby that he sometimes sleeps with when he feels alone (even though he'd grown now).

this one is extremely dark, probably the darkest one yet so tw for suicide attempt(ish its not really one).......... at the age of fifteen, he actually bought pills to overdose on and set a date (the 14th of may (really random)). he was going to off himself that day but didn't end up doing it bc his brothers dragged him out to play chess (idk, anything works). he said he'd do it some other day but never go to it. every year, on that day, he celebrates not offing himself bc he wouldn't have met the people he met and wouldn't have gotten to feel the happiness he now feels if he had.

he's convinced himself he isn't worthy of love (this one also applies to jamie, a lot of these actually do in my opinion, they're quite similar when you think about it. probably will make a post about this)

when he was a baby, he'd imagine his stuffed teddy was actually his mom when he felt the need to be held by a parental figure. it almost never worked, but he would always try again hoping it would magically start working.

he has panic attacks on a regular basis. ones where he starts pulling at his hair and stuff. he thinks he's going crazy after these, but avery reassures him he isn't (or nash, but i like the idea of avery being there for him as a friend/sister figure)

when he was younger, he used to ask people if they wanted to come to his house and play with him. they said yes but only bc he was rich. the second they'd step foot into his house, they'd leave him and start exploring.

this sort of goes with the hc i made that he denies himself food and stuff, but, when he gets cold at night and wants to lower the temperature, he'll force himself to stay in bed and take the blankets off to let himself suffer.

he secretly wishes people weren't so scared of him bc then he might have friends.

sometimes, he starts feeling so numb with everything he goes back to the cliff where emily died just to feel smth.

he's such a perfectionist he would cry whenever he got lower than a 90% at school.

it might not look like it, but he really cares about people's opinions of him and will do everything in his power to 'fix' what these people think is wrong with him.

whenever he gets mad at the world or at himself, he'll go to one of those places where you smash and break everything. when he's done, he makes himself sit in the mess and look at all of the destruction he caused (he sees this as him destroying everything in his life (like his relationships, etc))

to end on a brighter note, here's a happy grayson hc :)

when he was younger and wanted smth, he would jump with his hands clasped together begging for it with the cutest puppy eyes ever (i find this one really adorable and can literally picture it in my head).

not proof read so i apologize for any spelling mistakes<3. again, there are resources you can use if you ever need help. if you can, try to get a therapist, and, if you can't, talk to a friend/family member or call a helpline. things can get better. sending everyone lots of love.

#the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #avery grambs #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne

[lavenderstobins]

Thinking about egg Nancy who’s upset about Robin coming out a lesbian but can’t put her finger on why.

She’s not homophobic, and she wants Robin to be happy, but she feels sick whenever she thinks about Robin not wanting to date her because she’s a boy.

It’s not the thought that Robin doesn’t like boys. Not exactly. She likes Robin, but she could handle unrequited feelings.

It’s the thought that Robin doesn’t like boys, so Robin doesn’t like her. It doesn’t sit right, upsetting her beyond reason, and she doesn’t get it.

It frustrates her like nothing else. It’s a puzzle she can’t solve, the pieces refusing to fit together.

Then one evening, they’re hanging out at Robin’s house, her and Eddie and Steve and Jonathan and Argyle.

There’s a film on in the background but none of them are really watching it. Nancy’s lying on the sofa with her head in Robin’s lap, half-listening as Eddie and Steve bicker about something or the other.

She’s not really paying attention, more focused on Robin’s hand threading through her hair. Eddie says something about his biological advantage, whatever that means, and Steve starts insisting that it’s the opposite.

It’s only when she hears Robin’s name that she tunes back in to the conversation.

“Buckley!” Eddie calls, cupping his hands around his mouth. “You’re a lesbian.”

“Nice of you to notice,” Robin replies dryly.

“You can settle this. Who would make a prettier girl, me or Steve?”

She looks up, seeing Robin looking thoughtful. Both Eddie and Steve are watching her intently.

“Wheeler’d make the prettiest girl,” Robin says, causing Eddie to splutter and Steve to indignantly claim that isn’t an answer, Robin, come on.

Nancy doesn't care as they descend back into arguing. She's frozen, watching Robin, a strange feeling in her chest. She feels weirdly giddy and she doesn’t even know why.

The conversation moves on, but the thought stays in the back of her head for days.

Wheeler’d make the prettiest girl.

Easily, like that’s all there is to it. Had Robin imagined her as a girl? She tries to picture it herself, closing her eyes and imagining herself in her mother’s skirts, her curls growing out long. The girl in her head twirls, beaming, and her tongue dries in her mouth.

She could be a pretty girl, she thinks. Her heart starts pounding at the thought, and that scares her. The shiver that goes up her spine, the tingle of excitement—it’s almost scary enough for her to stop poking. She’s the firstborn son, the pride of the family.

She can’t just… change that. She has so many expectations to carry on her back.

Still, though, now that she’s started thinking, she finds herself unable to stop. She’s overanalysing everything. The way her clothes sit on her body, the way her face feels better shaven.

In the shower, curiosity gets the better of her, and she shaves her arms and legs. She cries in bed that night, running her hands over her smooth skin, a lump in her throat that won’t go away.

—

It’s Mike, of all people, she talks to in the end.

She’s not quite brave enough to have a conversation with Robin, not yet, and her mouth dries whenever she thinks about talking to the other boys.

They sit in the basement, just the two of them, and she tells him her problem, the way it hurts to think about Robin not wanting her.

Mike, to his credit, tries to cheer her up. “It’s not you,” he says helpfully, clumsily patting her shoulder. “Robin doesn’t like any boys.”

“I don’t want her to like boys,” she blurts out. “I want her to like me."

“But you’re a boy,” Mike says, sounding confused, and this, for some reason, is what makes her burst into tears.

Mike freezes, looking alarmed, and all she can do is sob harder.

“Uh,” he says, panic in his voice. “Should I get mom?”

“No!” she sits up quickly, scrubbing her face.

Mike’s eyeing her warily, like he could set her off again at any second. He probably could. She doesn’t know what’s going on with her.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffles. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Mike squints at her. She can practically see the cogs turning in his head.

“You’re not upset that robin likes girls,” he says slowly.

She shakes her head.

“You’re… not upset that she doesn’t like boys?”

She shakes her head again.

“You’re…” he hesitates, chewing on his lip. “You’re upset Robin… doesn’t like you.”

She nods.

“… Because you’re… not a boy?”

“I can’t just not be a boy,” she says miserably. Hearing herself say the words makes her feel sick, tears forming in her eyes again.

Mike, though, squints again. “Uh, yeah you can. Eddie stopped being a girl.”

She stops. “What?”

“Eddie stopped being a girl,” he repeats, then frowns. “Or—was never properly a girl, but stopped being one? I don’t—I think I’m saying it wrong.”

“Eddie used to be a girl?” The argument comes back to her head, Steve protesting Eddie’s logic of biological advantage.

Mike shrugs. “Something like that. You’d have to ask him, I dunno. but if he can be a boy, then you can be a girl, right?”

“I don’t…” she trails off, thinking about it. “I’m… I can do that?”

“I think so.” Mike sounds unsure, but shrugs again. “Why not?”

Her stomach flutters again. “You wouldn’t mind if I wasn’t your brother anymore?”

“It’s cool if you’re my sister. Just don’t go all ‘boy crazy’ like girls do.”

She bites her lip to hide a smile. “I’m telling Max and El you said that.”

“No, wait!” He scrambles up and she laughs.

She doesn’t say anything more on the subject for a few days, but it’s all she can think about. She can be a girl. She can be a pretty girl. She blushes at the thought.

She tries subtle things, at first. Keeps shaving everywhere. Stops trimming her hair shorter.

She tries on her mother’s skirts when she’s home alone, giddily twirling around, delighting in how they flow with her. She catches sight of her reflection in the mirror and sees a beaming girl looking back, euphoria surging through her.

The next time El comes over, she lets her practice makeup on her, watching as El’s tongue sticks out in concentration. It’s clumsily done, but she has to bite down on her tongue to stop herself crying when she sees the finished look in the mirror.

She’ll tell her friends soon, she decides. She doesn’t feel as afraid anymore, not now that she’s put her puzzle pieces together.

Secretly, she hopes Robin will call her a pretty girl again. Imagines the grin on Robin's face as she crows that she was right.

Tomorrow, she thinks, a small smile on her face. She’ll tell them tomorrow.

#my writing #st fic #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #steve harrington #eddie munson #mike wheeler #wheeler siblings #transfem nancy wheeler #trans nancy wheeler #ronance #trans eddie munson #transmasc eddie munson

[cosmic-kaden]

✨ This one goes out to the passionate self-shippers! It's me! and I see little to no love for us, it's always about being scared or shy/afraid so-

Shout out to:

The ones who get so excited that they can't contain it.

The ones who have to make rapid fire posts to talk about the thing /f/o that has them so excited!

The passionate self shippers who write fics and post them like it's going out of style just because you have so many ideas and you're so excited to share a piece of yourself with that world and your f/o!

The too full of love ones who have to gush all the time and unprompted, everything from long coherent tangents to the simple "post a picture and add lksdjflsdjlsj 'c-cute' underneath it!"

The ones who when they write they lean more towards the mundane style of writing, where nothing incredibly adventurous happens but you don't care! You just like existing with your f/o~!

The ones who will sit in their f/o's tag for hours and reblog gifsets and photos and be super excited and passionate in the tags!

The ones who get labeled as "silly" / "immature" / "Not serious" simply because we enjoy ranting and raving and celebrating our f/o(s) all the time!

You're not annoying for being passionate about your f/o(s) or your f/o's world.

you're not annoying for adding your friends to your tag list that wanted to be added. If they didn't want to read your stuff they wouldn't have asked.

You're not bothersome or annoying to anyone! You're passionate and people can tell how much you pour your heart and soul into something <3

Most importantly, your f/o(s) love your fiery spirit and passion! They never find it weird or annoying, they find it incredibly endearing and it makes their heart swell with love, knowing that you care so much about them!

You really make them happy, so never stop being passionate, no matter what people might say or think. If it makes you happy (and doesn't hurt anyone of course) then never stop being passionate <3

If none of this applies to you, you can rb it just don't derail it please. ;; || Pro/comship DNI this is not for you.

#I have been feeling bad mind thoughts and shitty anons so I really needed to reassure myself ^_^;;;; #ok 2 rb! #Spread the love!

[leidensygdom]

ENNU EPILOGUE RECAP!!

OKay! So, our campaign ended! Yesterday was the 81 session, and last one of it- Our DM did a wonderful job at running it. We basically got to ask them for the scenes we'd like to see, and the session was built around that. It's been three years, so it was wild to see it come to an end! Here's a recap tho (a lil bit more focused on my blorbos since they're the ones you know)

The epilogue happened two years after the campaign's end, with a couple of flashbacks going some time back

First scene was welcoming Blasma (one of the party members), who had been on a trip all this time to heal her soul at her grandpa's dubious laboratory. She's pretty okay currently- if we ignore soul healing is something theoretically impossible. Probably many questionable things happened there. Osten traveled with her to make sure she was doing okay

Next scene was her welcoming party. A bunch of shenanigans happened. Yxala tried so play cool aunt, got her a motorbike. They ended in somewhat odd terms and my girl was trying so bad to get her trust again

Pulsar and Tephra- each polycule's kids- appeared to be overall terribly adorable. Yxala talked a lot about her Sweet Potato. Tephra is Yxala and Relé's biological kiddo (as evidenced by the branched horns), 6 months old, and just one of these big hefty babies who is starting to munch on everything (here's a token of baby her, and what she's like grown up!)

we also got to see the closure of Mythannae, Yden and Jorven's polycule! Myth and Yden recovered their enchanted clothing business. They specialize in magical clothing adapted to specific needs- Like fireproof clothing for fire genasi, helmets with bag-of-holding like pockets so you can put them on with horns, that stuff. Jorven has now been working on music again. (For context, Myth was my previous character before I switched for Yxala!)

Blasma's player also had an epilogue for his previous character- she's a tired old lady, who is now joining another tired old lady to get in politics. An improvement, given they were cops before that

Centi got to resurrect the weird celestial wife of an old teacher of hers- Who had been snatched up by Sol Ascensus and transformed into a monster. I can't wait to show Niereva to y'all tho, she's a bit of a weird aminal (a mantis/naga-like aasimar)

She may have done a fucked up pact with a psychopomp tho-

We had Yxala's, Relent's and Uri's wedding, we knew that was coming! It took Urion a long while to recover from after the Deep Lab, and they still struggle a lot with that they did as The Onirist

We had a scene of Urion's recovery. Initially they didn't even want to come to terms with being Urion- They were The Onirist. Relé had a hard time forgiving them too, bc they DID hurt Relent a lot. Yxala was a bit more fine about it, even after having her heart carved out by them.

they're all going to therapy lol

There's actually a cult to The Onirist/Ataraxia now though! Some people loved the idea of a godly machine that could solve everyone's hurts and ailments, and they're asking for them to come back and fix the world. maybe the mind control microchips were fine, y'know

(uri isn't doing great about this)

We had the ceremony- Money and seeds are given to the partners as a sign of prosperity and life. They're gonna have a great garden.

The polycule drank (alcohol-free) wine imbued with each other's blood too bc ceremonies there go hard- (this one is seen as a bit more archaic)

And a major exchange between marrying partners is expected. They exchanged basses- They had them custom made many decades ago, with Urion's being based on clouds (after Relé), Relé's being based on fire (after Yxala), and Yxala's being based on bismuth crystals (after Uri's). Now Uri has the fiery bass, Relé has the bismuth one, and Yxala has the cloudy bass

Urion was the bassist for Demonwire, a group they were a part of with some other anarchist friends. This bass has a very long history and it's very significative. Yxala was a bit shocked.

After that, the wedding after-party took place. Blasma set a date with Osten- They didn't actually get romantically involved up until now (and it's probably gonna be very slow still gfhudhdgf)

I forgot to mention this but Urion and Relent are now involved with an organization to help the people who were affected by the Deep Lab and The Onirist's actions. Uri had a very awkward interview about it.

We had few other closure scenes here and there. Finding out two other npcs are marrying, the fact the weird undead guy somehow has a new kid, that stuff- and then we went onto the final one

Which was a concert by Demonwire. Urion played with them for the first time in 12 years, and gave an awkward speech, and it was super sweet and just a great point to end the campaign in!

With that, we're now set to go play the next campaign- Which will happen 8 years after this epilogue (ten years after the end of the major campaign events). I'm going to be playing Siegmund, one of Yxala's kids, and I'm very excited for that.

Yxala won't be doing any major stuff- She's gonna still go fight corpos in the streets and she's going back to the Mecha Derby (did y'all know she was a mecha pilot in a sports competition lmao. I'm working on her pilot fit, it's cool!). Urion is going to be back on Demonwire, mostly to raise funds for those hurt by The Onirist and Ataraxia, and will have a bigger role coming up- Specially given Siegmund's (and Vyxander, his twin) have a lot to do with that. Relent will also be doing some major stuff, but it will remain spoilery for a time. He's got some big things to handle!

I may have cried a bit at the end because it's been so long. I'm glad the characters won't be fully gone. Next campaign will have a lot more lore stuff to gush about- We're going to adventure outside the city, and meet people from all over the world. There's a country that uses souls in place of nuclear fission. It's gonna be wild! (And thank you for reading-)

#ennu #long post

[cy-cyborg]

Dealing with Healing and Disability in fantasy: Writing Disability

[ID: An image of the main character from Eragon, a white teenage boy with blond hair in silver armour as he sits, with his hand outstretched. On his hand is a glowing blue mark. He is visibly straining as he attempts to heal a large creature in front of him. /End ID]

I'm a massive fan of the fantasy genre, which is why it's so incredibly frustrating when I see so much resistance to adding disability representation to fantasy works. People's go-to reason for leaving us out is usually something to the effect of "But my setting has magic so disability wouldn't exist, it can just be healed!" so let's talk about magic, specifically healing magic, in these settings, and how you can use it without erasing disability from your story.

Ok, let's start with why you would even want to avoid erasing disability from a setting in the first place. I talked about this in a lot more detail in my post on The Miracle Cure. this line of thinking is another version of this trope, but applied to a whole setting (or at least, to the majority of people in the setting) instead of an individual, so it's going to run into the same issues I discussed there. To summarise the points that are relevant to this particular version of the trope though:

Not every disabled person wants or needs a cure - many of us see our disability as a part of our identity. Do difficulties come with being disabled? absolutely! It's literally part of the definition, but for some people in the disabled community, if you took our disabilities away, we would be entirely different people. While it is far from universal, there is a significant number of us who, if given a magical cure with no strings attached, would not take it. Saying no one in your setting would be disabled because these healing spells exists ignores this part of the community.

It messes with the stakes of your story - Just like how resurrecting characters or showing that this is something that is indeed possible in the setting can leave your audience feeling cheated or like they don't have to worry about a character *actually* ever dying. healing a character's disability, or establishing that disability doesn't exist in your setting because "magic" runs into the same problem. It will leave your readers or viewers feeling like they don't have to worry about your characters getting seriously hurt because it will only be temporary, which means your hero's actions carry significantly less risk, which in turn, lowers the stakes and tension if not handled very, very carefully.

It's an over-used trope - quite plainly and simply, this trope shows up a lot in the fantasy genre, to the point where I'd say it's just overused and kind of boring.

So with the "why should you avoid it" covered, let's look at how you can actually handle the topic.

Limited Access and Expensive Costs

One of the most common ways to deal with healing and disability in a fantasy setting, is to make the healing magic available, but inaccessible to most of the population. The most popular way to do that is by making the services of a magical healer capable of curing a disability really expensive to the point that most people just can't afford it. If this is the approach you're going to use, you also typically have to make that type of magic quite rare. To use D&D terms, if every first level sorcerer, bard, cleric and druid can heal a spinal injury, it's going to result in a lot of people who are able to undercut those massive prices and the expense will drop as demand goes down. If that last sentence didn't give you a hint, this is really popular method in stories that are critiquing capitalistic mindsets and ideologies, and is most commonly used by authors from the USA and other countries with a similar medical system, since it mirrors a lot of the difficulties faced by disabled Americans. If done right, this approach can be very effective, but it does need to be thought through more carefully than I think people tend to do. Mainly because a lot of fantasy stories end with the main character becoming rich and/or powerful, and so these prohibitively expensive cure become attainable by the story's end, which a lot of authors and writer's just never address. Of course, another approach is to make the availability of the magic itself the barrier. Maybe there just aren't that many people around who know the magic required for that kind of healing, so even without a prohibitive price tag, it's just not something that's an option for most people. If we're looking at a D&D-type setting, maybe you need to be an exceptionally high level to cast the more powerful healing spell, or maybe the spell requires some rare or lost material component. I'd personally advise people to be careful using this approach, since it often leads to stories centred around finding a miracle cure, which then just falls back into that trope more often than not.

Just outright state that some characters don't want/need it

Another, admittedly more direct approach, is to make it that these "cures" exist and are easily attainable, but to just make it that your character or others they encounter don't want or need it. This approach works best for characters who are born with their disabilities or who already had them for a long time before a cure was made available to them. Even within those groups though, this method works better with some types of characters than others depending on many other traits (personality, cultural beliefs, etc), and isn't really a one-size-fits-all solution, but to be fair, that's kind of the point. Some people will want a cure for their disabilities, others are content with their body's the way they are. There's a few caveats I have with this kind of approach though:

you want to make sure you, as the author, understand why some people in real life don't want a cure, and not just in a "yeah I know these people exist but I don't really get it" kind of way. I'm not saying you have to have a deep, personal understanding or anything, but some degree of understanding is required unless you want to sound like one of those "inspirational" body positivity posts that used to show up on Instagram back in the day.

Be wary when using cultural beliefs as a reasoning. It can work, but when media uses cultural beliefs as a reason for turning down some kind of cure, it's often intending to critique extreme beliefs about medicine, such as the ones seen in some New Age Spirituality groups and particularly intense Christian churches. As a general rule of thumb, it's probably not a good idea to connect these kinds of beliefs to disabled people just being happy in their bodies. Alternatively, you also need to be mindful of the "stuck in time" trope - a trope about indigenous people who are depicted as primitive or, as the name suggests, stuck in an earlier time, for "spurning the ways of the white man" which usually includes medicine or the setting's equivalent magic. I'm not the best person to advise you on how to avoid this specific trope, but my partner (who's Taino) has informed me of how often it shows up in fantasy specifically and we both thought it was worth including a warning at least so creators who are interested in this method know to do some further research.

Give the "cures" long-lasting side effects

Often in the real world, when a "cure" for a disability does exist, it's not a perfect solution and comes with a lot of side effects. For example, if you loose part of your arm in an accident, but you're able to get to a hospital quickly with said severed arm, it can sometimes be reattached, but doing so comes at a cost. Most people I know who had this done had a lot of issues with nerve damage, reduced strength, reduced fine-motor control and often a great deal of pain with no clear source. Two of the people I know who's limbs were saved ended up having them optionally re-amputated only a few years later. Likewise, I know many people who are paraplegics and quadriplegics via spinal injuries, who were able to regain the use of their arms and/or legs. However, the process was not an easy one, and involved years of intense physiotherapy and strength training. For some of them, they need to continue to do this work permanently just to maintain use of the effected limbs, so much so that it impacts their ability to do things like work a full-time job and engage in their hobbies regularly, and even then, none of them will be able bodied again. Even with all that work, they all still experience reduced strength and reduced control of the limbs. depending on the type, place and severity of the injury, some people are able to get back to "almost able bodied" again - such was the case for my childhood best friend's dad, but they often still have to deal with chronic pain from the injury or chronic fatigue.

Even though we are talking about magic in a fantasy setting, we can still look to real-life examples of "cures" to get ideas. Perhaps the magic used has a similar side effect. Yes, your paraplegic character can be "cured" enough to walk again, but the magic maintaining the spell needs a power source to keep it going, so it draws on the person's innate energy within their body, using the very energy the body needs to function and do things like move their limbs. They are cured, but constantly exhausted unless they're very careful, and if the spell is especially strong, the body might struggle to move at all, resulting in something that looks and functions similar to the nerve damage folks with spinal injuries sometimes deal with that causes that muscle weakness and motor control issues. Your amputee might be able to have their leg regrown, but it will always be slightly off. The regrown leg is weaker and causes them to walk with a limp, maybe even requiring them to use a cane or other mobility aid.

Some characters might decide these trade-offs are worth it, and while this cures their initial disability, it leaves them with another. Others might simply decide the initial disability is less trouble than these side effects, and choose to stay as they are.

Consider if these are actually cures

Speaking of looking to the real world for ideas, you might also want to consider whether these cures are doing what the people peddling them are claiming they do. Let's look at the so-called autism cures that spring up every couple of months as an example.

Without getting into the… hotly debated specifics, there are many therapies that are often labelled as "cures" for autism, but in reality, all they are doing is teaching autistic people how to make their autistic traits less noticeable to others. This is called masking, and it's a skill that often comes at great cost to an autistic person's mental health, especially when it's a behaviour that is forced on them. Many of these therapies give the appearance of being a cure, but the disability is still there, as are the needs and difficulties that come with it, they're just hidden away. From an outside perspective though, it often does look like a success, at least in the short-term. Then there are the entirely fake cures with no basis in reality, the things you'll find from your classic snake-oil salesmen. Even in a fantasy setting where real magic exists, these kinds of scams and misleading treatments can still exist. In fact, I think it would make them even more common than they are in the real world, since there's less suspension of disbelief required for people to fall for them. "What do you mean this miracle tonic is a scam? Phil next door can conjure flames in his hand and make the plants grow with a snap of his fingers, why is it so hard to believe this tonic could regrow my missing limb?"

I think the only example of this approach I've seen, at least recently, is from The Owl House. The magic in this world can do incredible things, but it works in very specific and defined ways. Eda's curse (which can be viewed as an allegory for many disabilities and chronic illnesses) is seemingly an exception to this, and as such, nothing is able to cure it. Treat it, yes, but not cure it. Eda's mother doesn't accept this though, and seeks out a cure anyway and ends up falling for a scam who's "treatments" just make things worse.

In your own stories, you can either have these scams just not work, or kind of work, but in ways that are harmful and just not worth it, like worse versions of the examples in the previous point. Alternatively, like Eda, it's entirely reasonable that a character who's been the target of these scams before might just not want to bother anymore. Eda is a really good example of this approach handled in a way that doesn't make her sad and depressed about it either. She's tried her mum's methods, they didn't work, and now she's found her own way of dealing with it that she's happy with. She only gets upset when her boundaries are ignored by Luz and her mother.

Think about how the healing magic is actually working

If you have a magic system that leans more on the "hard magic" side of things, a great way to get around the issue of healing magic erasing disability is to stop and think about how your healing magic actually works.

My favourite way of doing this is to make healing magic work by accelerating the natural processes of your body. Your body will, given enough time (assuming it remains infection-free) close a slash from a sword and mend a broken bone, but it will never regrow it's own limbs. It will never heal damage to it's own spinal cord. It will never undo whatever causes autism or fix it's own irregularities. Not without help. Likewise, healing magic alone won't do any of these things either, it's just accelerating the existing process and usually, by extension making it safer, since a wound staying open for an hour before you get to a healer is much less likely to get infected than one that slowly and naturally heals over a few weeks. In one of my own works, I take this even further by making it that the healing magic is only accelerating cell growth and repair, but the healer has to direct it. In order to actually heal, the healer needs to know the anatomy of what they're fixing to the finest detail. A spell can reconnect a torn muscle to a bone, but if you don't understand the structures that allow that to happen in the first place, you're likely going to make things worse. For this reason, you won't really see people using this kind of magic to, say, regrow limbs, even though it technically is possible. A limb is a complicated thing. The healer needs to be able to perfectly envision all the bones, the cartilage, the tendons and ligaments, the muscles (including the little ones, like those found in your skin that make your hair stand on end and give you goose bumps), the fat and skin tissues, all the nerves, all the blood vessels, all the structures within the bone that create your blood. Everything, and they need to know how it all connects, how it is supposed to move and be able to keep that clearly in their mind simultaneously while casting. Their mental image also has to match with the patient's internal "map" of the body and the lost limb, or they'll continue to experience phantom limb sensation even if the healing is successful. It's technically possible, but the chances they'll mess something up is too high, and so it's just not worth the risk to most people, including my main character.

Put Restrictions on the magic

This is mostly just the same advice as above, but for softer magic systems. put limits and restrictions on your healing magic. These can be innate (so things the magic itself is just incapable of doing) or external (things like laws that put limitations on certain types of magic and spells).

An example of internal restriction can be seen in how some people interpret D&D's higher level healing spells like regenerate (a 7th level spell-something most characters won't have access to for quite some time). The rules as written specify that disabilities like lost limbs can be healed using this spell, but some players take this to mean that if a character was born with the disability in question, say, born without a limb, regenerate would only heal them back to their body's natural state, which for them, is still disabled.

An external restriction would be that your setting has outlawed healing magic, perhaps because healing magic carries a lot of risks for some reason, eithe to the caster or the person being healed, or maybe because the healing magic here works by selectively reviving and altering the function of cells, which makes it a form of necromancy, just on a smaller scale. Of course, you can also use the tried and true, "all magic is outlawed" approach too. In either case, it's something that will prevent some people from being able to access it, despite it being technically possible. Other external restrictions could look like not being illegal, per say, but culturally frowned upon or taboo where your character is from.

But what if I don't want to do any of this?

Well you don't have to. These are just suggestions to get you thinking about how to make a world where healing magic and disability exist, but they aren't the only ways. Just the ones I thought of.

Of course, if you'd still rather make a setting where all disability is cured because magic and you just don't want to think about it any deeper, I can't stop you. I do however, want to ask you to at least consider where you are going to draw the line. Disability, in essence, is what happens when the body stops (or never started) functioning "normally". Sometimes that happens because of an injury, sometimes it's just bad luck, but the boundary between disabled and not disabled is not as solid as I think a lot of people expect it to be, and we as a society have a lot of weird ideas about what is and isn't a disability that just, quite plainly and simply, aren't consistent. You have to remember, a magic system won't pick and choose the way we humans do, it will apply universally, regardless of our societal hang-ups about disability.

What do I mean about this?

Well, consider for a moment, what causes aging? it's the result of our body not being able to repair itself as effectively as it used to. It's the body not being able to perform that function "normally". So in a setting where all disability is cured, there would be no aging. No elderly people. No death from old age. If you erase disability, you also erase natural processes like aging. magic won't pick and choose like that, not if you want it to be consistent.

Ok, ok, maybe that's too much of a stretch, so instead, let's look at our stereotypical buff hero covered in scars because he's a badass warrior. but in a world where you can heal anything, why would anything scar? Even if it did, could another healing spell not correct that too? Scars are part of the body's natural healing process, but if no natural healing occurred, why would a scar form? Scars are also considered disabling in and of themselves too, especially large ones, since they aren't as flexible or durable as normal skin and can even restrict growth and movement.

Even common things like needing glasses are, using this definition of disability at least, a disability. glasses are a socially accepted disability aid used to correct your eyes when they do not function "normally".

Now to be fair, in reality, there are several definitions of disability, most of which include something about the impact of society. For example, in Australia (according to the Disability Royal Commission), we define disability as "An evolving concept that results from the interaction between a person with impairment(s) and attitudinal and environmental barriers that hinder their full and effective participation in society on an equal basis with others." - or in laymen's terms, the interaction between a person's impairment and societal barriers like people not making things accessible or holding misinformed beliefs about your impairment (e.g. people in wheelchairs are weaker than people who walk). Under a definition like this, things like scars and needing glasses aren't necessarily disabilities (most of the time) but that's because of how our modern society sees them. The problem with using a definition like this though to guide what your magic system will get rid of, is that something like a magic system won't differentiate between an "impairment" that has social impacts that and one that doesn't. It will still probably get rid of anything that is technically an example of your body functioning imperfectly, which all three of these things are. The society in your setting might apply these criteria indirectly, but really, why would they? Very few people like the side effects of aging on the body (and most people typically don't want to die), the issues that come with scars or glasses are annoying (speaking as someone with both) and I can see a lot of people getting rid of them when possible too. If they don't then it's just using the "not everyone wants it approach" I mentioned earlier. If there's some law or some kind of external pressure to push people away from fixing these more normalised issues, then it's using the "restrictions" method I mentioned earlier too.

Once again, you can do whatever you like with your fantasy setting, but it's something I think that would be worth thinking about at least.

#Writing disability with Cy Cyborg #Long Post #Disability #Disabled #Disability Representation #Writing Disability #Writing #Writeblr #Authors #Creators #Writing Advice #Disabled Characters #On Writing #Disability in Media #Tropes #Disability Tropes #magic #fantasy #worldbuilding #magic systems

[hmshermitcraft]

Etho got bit not terribly long ago. He successfully convinced Pause and Beef to go on without him. The bite take a while to make someone undead, like, it has to kill you first and then it'll bring you back, so Etho's been getting weaker and slower and sicker over a few days now and he knows that it'd be detrimental to his friends survival if they stuck together until Etho but the dust. twice. So with a tearful goodbye he watched his friends continue on to their ultimate destination.

Problem being, Etho hasn't turned yet. He's miserable sick and missing a chunk of memory which makes him think that he's now a zombie, but he's not mindless or hungrier than usual or violent or anything. So what gives? Another thing, the infected pass him by. A few come over and sniff at him, some even including him in their daytime huddle piles. (He's pretty sure they do that to protect their eyes? They all crowd together and shove their faces at one another to cover their eyes, so. That's Etho's theory.)

So the infected don't mind him, awesome! that'll make travel so much easier! But! He can't really stand anymore. He has trouble breathing and moving in the day and it's even worse at night. He doesn't know how to make it better but he's sticking by a river so he at least has water.

He hears engines and laughter, he must be finally dying. (He's not)

It's Scar! Scar on a 4-wheeler electric solar powered wheelchair that looks more like an off road go kart than a mobility aid. The things decked out and to top it all off Scar's got a shotty that don't miss.

Scar finds him, introduces himself kindly, and then almost kills him because Etho looks dead as hell and can't really articulate words of any sort. Scar sees him, sick and immobile and in a great deal of pain, and thinks "ah yes, I shall take it with me" so he gets Etho up and wrapped in a sleeping bag and curled up sideways on his lap.

The journey starts slow, with Etho doing just. Terribly. The movement of riding on the chair makes him queasy and he's awkward talking to Scar when he has the energy to do so. Over time Etho gets a little better, being able to rest easy with the promise of protection helps him out a lot. He's sleeping a lot, which means Scar can go fast through the woods and down abandoned roads.

Etho gets strong enough to walk alongside Scar, though they both prefer to just cuddle the whole time to uh, "make faster progress". But he's doing good, and scars really nice, and it turns out that they're heading to the same place that Etho was originally, so the odds of running I to his friends are high.

Then they start smoochin, gods the first time they did that Etho nearly went into cardiac arrest. He got actually ill because he was feeling so many feelings that his body didn't know what to do, they both laughed about it, and scar gave him lots of kissies to get him used to it.

By the time they make it to the safe zone Etho can race scar through the woods on foot and is proficient at kissing, much to the surprise of a delighted pause and beef, who thought he was dead for sure.

-carrie

Sorry it's so long, I got 'carrie'd (hah) away

Etho still isn't sure what he is, or what this means for him. It feels like he went through the whole zombie process, yet... He's fairly sure he isn't a zombie. But he's not necessarily sure if he's unturned, either.

The zombies still don't bother him, which makes supply runs a whole lot easier. Even sitting on Scar means they don't get much more than a few curious zombies sniffing at them. He takes advantage of it to go out of supply runs as often as he can. He wants to make sure he's earning his place in this safe zone.

All four of them decided not to tell anybody about Etho being bitten. It's safest, they don't know how people will react and- they won't let Etho get hurt. They can't.

Scar promises that if they need to be, they'll be out of that compound. They'll make their own safe area, together. Scar promise.

#hermitshipping #ask #scar tag #etho tag #pause tag #beef tag #scartho #carrie anon #mod 🎀 #weekly theme: apocalypse

[cipheramnesia]

Dr. Stevenson would have had to take Athena when she was a very young child. Maybe four years old, give or take. It could happen so many ways but it would have been so very easy for her to put just a little pressure on one or two people to have CPS take custody of the girl. This is all just a dream, and Athena's whole life after that is one neutral colored room after another with a slightly different ergonomic office chair every few years, and her only solid memory to hold on to is a reflection of light off water. Sand and water, surrounded by big trees with branches all bent heavy and green. A half open, half broken rusty gate clinging onto a couple concrete pillars long bereft of their accompanying wall. Athena would hold onto that for dear life, treasure any little sliver of color from a light blue hoodie to a cheap pair of headband bunny ears to blue and yellow rain-boots. They would have accumulated over the years of the taped on monitors, blood draws, urine samples, hair clippings, annual spinal tap.

Sometimes she'd go days without food, or her room temperature would swing from frigid to boiling, then the big orderly and the phlebotomist with Dr. Stevenson's sharp voice over them all would come in. "Be careful," she'd snap out, slapping off hands that gripped too tight, never once spoken out of love or even empathy. "Don't damage her, we don't know if we'll ever find another one." The concern only spoke of a rare and treasured object, perhaps a Cartier wind up music box. The others calmed her like an animal, "easy girl, just a moment and it's over." Sometimes when there was a new phlebotomist, Athena got a small piece of candy. She never had the same one more than a few months. She'd try to savor the hard lollipop or drop of chocolate and ignore the sound of Dr. Stevenson through the hollow doors, "This subject is on a specialized diet to ensure consistency of results, you are not to bring any such personal items-" and it went on.

Learning math and reading and writing after a fashion, information provided by Dr. Stevenson with grudging irritation, but once in awhile short and tantalizing sidepaths of the personal. "These sides are you, much like you and the light, you control both sides with the shared information. Oh, nevermind. Figure it out yourself." Athena would never know what kind of a monstrosity Dr. Stevenson was building from her blood and their studies, only the day that something went terribly wrong, and Dr. Stevenson didn't come to see her anymore. The time she'd showed the room the light and it hurt Dr. Stevenson, she still came back a few days later, but this time she left and Dr. White started taking care of her. He was much nicer, but wouldn't let her have her room in the dark, and did not think all the work Dr. Stevenson had been doing was very interesting. Sometimes he would talk about Dr. Stevenson's huge promotion with a sure bitterness. He showed up with a younger girl he called Alice.

#girl bites god #long post

[joshhutchersonsgf]

Could you maybe write a male!reader version of cockwarming Josh while he games? If not it Can be gn too.

COCKWARMING JOSH (gn!reader version)

nsfw | mdni | gn!reader | switch!josh | cockwarming | cursing | praise | unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy) | creampie | pet names | having to stay quiet | brief handjob | josh says hachi machi once (i wanted it to be as canon as possible😭) | not proofread

an: so many people asked for this so 🫶🫶

OH MY GODDDD okay so it definitely would start off with him playing biotic wars waayyyy longer than he told you he would, leaving you frustrated.

you walk into your shared living room where (of course) josh is sitting on the couch with a pair of headphones resting on his ears. josh is yelling at the screen and throwing his hands up in frustration, readjusting the mic to talk to the people on the other side.

you smile at the scene in front of you, making a conscious effort to stifle any laughter that threatens to escape. even though you were annoyed, you still thought it was so cute how serious he was about the things he loves.

you walk over to the couch and sit next to him, hoping he would take the hint that you want to spend time with him. he turns to you for a moment and gives you a gentle smile, genuinely happy to see you. but as quick as he looked to you, he turns back to the screen and yells at his friends in anger, upset they can’t beat the level.

you throw your head back against the cushion in frustration and sigh, annoyed that he still won’t pay attention to you while you’re right next to him.

you knew how much he loved those games, and while you thought it was nice that he was comfortably sharing a hobby he enjoys with you, you wish that he would focus on you just a bit more.

you attempt to get up but before you can get anywhere, josh reaches his arm out and grabs your hand. he looks up at you with those brown, doe-like eyes and you swear you could fall in love again. you knew he was asking you to sit back down, but what was the point if he was just going to play that stupid game the whole time?

josh grabs the side of his headset and clicks a button, letting you know he muted it.

“come sit down on my lap, i missed you.”

your eyes widen at his words and you smile, surprised that he even noticed you get up. the first words to you since you came in here was asking you to sit on him lap? not like you were complaining though.

you crawl into his lap, careful not to block the view of the tv, and try to get yourself comfortable. you gasp when you feel something hard against your ass, and you have to stifle a moan when you turn around to see him smirking at you.

before you could say a word, josh turns on the mic and starts talking again, careful not to get too loud. he doesn’t want to hurt your ears, and you silently thank him.

you try to ignore all the thoughts you’re having of him, thinking about how hard josh is just from you sitting on his lap. it takes everything in you to not just rip his clothes off and ride him into oblivion, but after all, he is trying to play with his friends.

josh’s hips stir underneath you and you hear him gulp loudly. you knew how hard this was for him too, and you wanted to help him. you move your hips in circles a few times, perfectly against his hard on.

josh can’t help the groan that falls from his lips at your movements, but before anyone can ask questions, he covers it up by saying, “this is so fucking annoying.”

relieved that you weren’t caught, you move your hips back again, and josh shoots you a death glare. your hips stutter for a moment at his look, but then, you get an idea.

you get back up from his lap and he starts to ask you where you going, but he realizes exactly what you’re doing as he watches you slowly tug at the ends of your shirt.

you don’t break eye contact as you pull your shirt up, exposing your chest to josh. his eyes flick back to the screen, and he contemplates throwing the controller down and fucking you on the couch. his eyes then go back down to your shirtless body as you completely disregard your top, leaving it somewhere on the floor beside you.

josh gets broken out of his daze when loud shouts come from his headphones, and he quickly goes to turn it off. he turns off his headset, but before he could take them off, you say, “no, no. keep playing, baby.”

josh frowns and his eyes don’t leave yours, even though he really really wants to look down at your chest.

“what are you doing?” you ask, “aren’t you going to play?”

josh lets out a shaky breath and looks back at the screen, a feeling of anxiety running through him. he clicks the button on the side of the headset and turns it back on quickly, apologizing to the others for having to leave so abruptly.

you turn around and face the tv, careful to not block josh’s view but also making sure he can still see you, you bend down and pull down your underwear and shorts.

you turn your head over your shoulder and see josh practically drooling all over himself, and you smile at his reaction.

you step out of your clothes and turn back around, fully facing josh. josh lets out a shaky breath and heat rises to his cheeks. a pink hue lightly sits on his cheeks as he tries to find the words to say.

you look back at the tv and see josh’s character doing nothing, and you turn back to josh and cock an eyebrow. josh’s eyes widen and he quickly looks back at the tv, trying to focus on whatever’s happening on the screen in front of him.

while josh isn’t looking, you drop to the floor in front of him and rest your head on his thigh. josh’s breath catches in his throat and he tries not to look down at you, hands shaking slightly against the controller that sits in his soft hands.

if that game was soooo important to him, why was it so hard for him to focus now? you knew the answer to that question, but the thought still amuses you.

josh continues to play the game as best as he can, only sneaking a few glances down as he feels your hand reach up to his zipper.

the sound of his zipper sliding down makes him tense up, but nonetheless, he still focuses on the screen. you grin to yourself, thinking about how well he listens to everything you tell him to do.

you pull his pants down to his thighs as best as you can, despite him sitting down. your eyes widen in shock when you see the wet spot that has formed on his boxers, and you use your pointer finger to touch it softly.

josh hisses through gritted teeth at the feeling, and you smile thinking about how hard it will be for him to keep quiet. even though you love every sound he makes, you wanted to punish him for being on the game too much.

in all honesty, it really didn’t bother you too much, but it was fun to see him try his best to be quiet and focus on the game.

you pull his dick out of his boxers and take a second to admire it. the pink tip is leaking with precum, and it drips down the side of his dick. you spread the precum around his tip with your finger and hold the head softly.

it takes everything in him not to fuck up into your hand, but he knew he was better than that. instead, he tries to pay full attention to the game, despite the feeling of your hand moving up and down his cock at an antagonizing pace.

josh’s palms sweat against the controller as he tries to listen to the voices coming through the headphones, giving the best responses he could.

you wanted to sit on your knees in front of him and jerk him off until he came, but suddenly, you got a better idea.

you remove your hand from his dick and he frowns, looking down at you with confusion painting his face. you get off your knees and stand up, watching his eyes follow your body. his brown puppy dog eyes look so adorable right now, and you swear you could die on the spot.

you stare down at him and then at his dick that’s begging to be touched. you turn around and get in front of him, blocking his view from the tv and moving your body down.

you grab josh’s dick and line it up with your hole and slowly sink down on it. you have to bite your lip to silence any moans that may spill out of your lips, and when you turn around and see josh’s face, you know he’s struggling just as bad as you are.

every inch you take of him makes it harder to stay quiet, and josh has to cover his mouth with his hand. his controller sits loosely in the other one, and you stop moving down when you realize he’s not playing.

josh frowns but then realizes why you stopped, and takes his hand off his mouth. he moves his head to the side to see the screen, and you continue to sink down until his dick is all the way inside of you.

you lean your body back against josh and try not to think about his dick perfectly stretching you out. you grip his hands and bring them around your body, so he can still play the game while you sit on his dick.

josh sighs and grips the controller tightly, trying to ignore the feeling of your walls gripping his dick tightly. he mumbles a few words to the mic, not like you’re paying attention though.

as the veins along his cock graze your sensitive walls, you feel yourself getting more sensitive with every moment that passed. your vision goes fuzzy with tears as you watch the screen in front of you, seeing josh’s character run around and try to kill the biotics.

josh and his friends beat the level and excitedly yell into their mics, and you hear some muffled words come from the headphones resting on his ears. josh is rambling on about how excited he is and absentmindedly fucks up into you a few times, causing him to stutter over his words.

your mouth falls open in a silent cry and your eyes roll back in your head, the tears the sit at the brink of your eyelids spilling out.

josh pulls his lips through his bottom teeth as he tries to listen to his friends, trying not to stare down at the way your bodies are connected. he gives another quick thrust and you whine, though he’s quick to cover it up with a fake cough.

you hear the headphones click and josh brings his mouth to the side of your ear, then whispers, “you’re gonna have to be quiet if you want to keep doing this. can you do that for me?”

you nod your head aggressively and turn your head around to face his, studying his cocky demeanor. josh unmutes the mic and turns his focus back to the game, talking loudly to the other people on the line as they start a new level.

even though it was your idea, you won’t deny how badly you need him to fuck you. your hole aches with need as you tighten around him, and his breath hitches.

he gives an experimental thrust up into you once, seeing if you can stay quiet or not. you clap a hand over your mouth and whine, careful to muffle the sound so no one hears.

your body slumps against josh’s as you try not to make noise. josh’s hips move up to meet yours and he moans, but quickly catches himself and starts complaining about the game.

when the words “level complete” pop up on the screen, you sigh in relief. you silently begged josh to get off the game and fuck you. even though you wanted to punish him, it felt more like punishment to you.

josh quickly excuses himself and shuts off the game, ignoring his friends pleas to keep playing. he disregards the controller somewhere on the couch, wasting no time and gripping your hips tightly.

“missed you so much, baby,” josh coos, gently thrusting into you. he lets his mouth fall open and moans loudly against your ear. your body twitches against his and you whine, incoherent words falling from your mouth.

“you’re so tight,” josh groans, “feels so good.”

you whimper at his words and move your hips in circles around him. josh brings his lips to the side of your neck and sucks dark circles along your neck and shoulders.

you push your shaky legs to the ground and settle yourself, then pull up off his dick. you both whine at the loss and josh grabs your hips, trying to pull you down again. you line his dick up with your hole and use your legs as leverage to slowly start bouncing on his cock.

“hachi machi.” josh moans, and you scoff at his stupid choice of words. his dick is literally inside of you and the best thing he could say was “hachi machi” ?

you lift off his dick again and slam back down, then starting a rough pace. josh thrusts up harshly into you and your legs almost give out, and josh has to hold you up. josh grips your hips again tighter than before, and you’re sure there will be bruises by tomorrow.

josh picks your hips up and slams them down harshly over and over, and you can feel your orgasm rapidly approaching.

“i’m gonna—” you cut yourself off with a moan when he moves his hand up to your chest, pulling lightly on your nipple.

“gonna cum all over my dick?” he moans, abusing your sweet spot on your neck with his tongue. “i’m close too, baby.”

josh coos over the way you respond to his touch, and he gives more deep thrusts into your hole. josh’s hips stutter underneath you and you feel his warm cum coat your walls. josh is moaning so loudly you are sure the neighbors could hear.

that feeling of his thick cum shooting into you enough to tip you over the edge and you cum around his cock. josh pulls on your nipple, and your back arches against him.

you throw your head back, only giving josh more access. he muffles his loud moans in your neck as your tight hole continues to milk him dry, and you feel like your head is spinning. nothing comes out of your mouth but moans and whimpers as josh continues to fuck you through your orgasm.

his lazy thrusts slow to a complete stop and he pulls you into his chest. you both take a moment to catch your breath while he stays inside of you.

“thank you so much, baby. needed that so fucking bad.” josh breathily whispers, rubbing soothing circles on your waist.

you brace yourself on the ground and pull yourself off, and you both whine at the loss. you plop down next to him on the couch and sigh, leaning your body against his.

you and josh sit like that for a moment before he asks, “wanna take a bath to clean up?”

#josh hutcherson #josh futturman x gn!reader #josh futturman #josh futturman x you #josh futturman smut #josh futturman x reader #gn reader #future man #josh hutcherson is so hot pls #josh hutcherson smut #mike schmidt #derek danforth #billy burn #clapton davis #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #josh hutcherson is my man #five nights at freddys movie

[bluesmooon]

GOOD TASTE

carl grimes x reader

tags: fluff? maybe? idk i just exist

masterlist here!

─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ───

You’ve been alone for quite a long time. Maybe not technically because you’ve had Rosita, Abraham and Eugene, but you’ve felt alone for quite a while. You don’t particularly let it get to you though, you’ve always had some sort of entertainment to enjoy. It helped you stay yourself, the same person you were when this all started.

You traveled very far with your group, you’ve lost a lot of people however. Someone you stuck with throughout all of it was Rosita. She was one of the people who stayed with you after losing your family and the others of the group. Abraham was always sort of standoffish. He gave you advice and was aggressive with you when he needed to be. Yelling at you to avoid you getting hurt, all that. Eugene…he was just there. He was just…yeah, there. He was helpful when he needed to be though.

The four of you have met and parted ways with many people and many groups. It all changed when you met one group in specific. You’d met Glenn and Tara and you saw their determination to find their people. You’ve never met others that dedicated. Usually they would accept the fact that their family was gone, but they were different. Even after finding Maggie, Sasha and Bob, they wanted to look further.

You believed Terminus would be the end of it all. You thought your story ended there.

You were surprised to find out that this group of people were successfully able to find their way back to each other; they had such a strong love for each other that even after being separated tragically, they figured it all out. And they got you out.

You were now on the road, you’d been smart enough to hide your bag with all your entertainment inside on the outskirts of Terminus. You noticed a guy your age, Carl. He’d seemed sweet, but very worried all the time; he made you remember who you used to be after your family died. You didn’t feel like bothering him, he’d just reunited with his baby sister who he’d presumed was dead. So you let him come to you.

You were walking along the railroad, listening to music. Trying to process everything you’d seen at Terminus.

“Hey.” You feel a tap on your shoulder and you pull out the headphone in your right ear, turning to see he’d approached you. You smile. “Hi.” You pull your ipod out from your back pocket to pause your music. “Whatcha listening to?” He asks, pointing at the ipod as you shoved it back in your front pocket. “Uhhh just Everlong.” He gives you a curious look. “Foo Fighters?” You add, not realizing he didn’t know what you were talking about.

“Oh, yeah I know who you mean now. Sorry I’ve forgotten the names n stuff.” He smiles. “Don’t worry about it. Wanna listen?” You pull out your left headphone and stick it out to him. He looks at it and thinks for a moment before taking it to put it in his ear. You scoot a little closer to him so it’s easier to listen and you put the right headphone in your ear.

You turn up the volume a little and smile as you press play.

You guys walk like that for a while, just listening to music together peacefully. He smiles at you sweetly throughout, and you begin to feel less alone. Like you felt before. The group stops for the night and you settle into a tent with Rosita. You go and sit next to Carl around the fire and he seems happy you chose to sit with him. “Soooo what do you have in there?” He points to your bag. “Just stuff for entertainment, which probably isn’t that smart in hindsight but…maybe it is. I dunno.” You both giggle and you unzip your bag.

“Well I’ve got these, I’m not too sure you’re into comics but-” He cuts you off. “No way, you have Science Dog? I haven’t read this since- well since…you know.” You nod in response. “Yeah, yeah I know.” You hand him the comic and continue digging through your bag, grabbing Invincible and some Spider-man comics. “Wow, you’ve got good taste.” He says with a smile, flipping through the selection of comics you have. “Thanks.”

“So which ones your favorite?”

“It’s gotta be Science Dog.”

“Really? Same…reminds me of before.”

You guys blabber on about it for the rest of the night, eventually being yelled at to separate and go to bed by Rick after dinner.

It’s funny how a friendship can form from your “good taste.”

─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ───

a/n: so sorry about this ITS SO BAD not to mention how short it is, i’m so so sorry. ALSO would you guys call me a nerd if i told you i have a science dog shirt and the actual science dog comic? (i’m just a girl btw pls don’t call me a nerd) also hope u like the banner for these next three fics bc LAWD HES SO FINE.

#carl grimes #carl grimes twd #the walking dead #twd #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes x fem!reader #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes angst #carl grimes the walking dead #twd carl #the walking dead carl #twd fanfiction #fanfic

[buddiebeginz]

Rewatching that Zach Sang interview with Oliver makes me more convinced than ever that Buddie is coming. The question about Buddie was at the end of the interview and it didn't really feel like an organic question more like something maybe they were requested to ask about.

I mean why not ask Oliver what the future of Buck and T*mmy is considering he's the one Buck is actually dating right now? And like I said in a previous post about this Oliver could have answered this many different ways in an effort to not get people’s hopes up. It just feels like they're trying to get the audience ready for Buddie by talking about them so much. They talk about Buddie in pretty much every 911 interview about the show lately. This wouldn’t be happening if the intention was for Eddie to be straight and Buddie was never going to be a possibility. The focus would be exclusively on Buck and T*mmy and while they have gotten some focus because of Buck’s coming out and that’s who he’s dating there’s always stuff about Buddie and Eddie. Tim and Oliver and the rest know how popular Buddie is, if it wasn’t happening I truly think they’d try and distance themselves and Buck from that. Obviously you want fans to tune in but you also don't want fans expecting something that's never going to happen because people will just get frustrated and tune out.

They very intentionally made Buck's coming out connected to Eddie in such a huge way that if Buddie wasn't happening I find it next to impossible that not one person would have looked at the script especially for 7x04 and said hey maybe we shouldn't feature Eddie so heavily in this episode when so many people want to see these characters in a relationship.

Plus everything that Lou has been saying too leads me to believe he's not staying beyond this season. Like I know some of you really like him and like him and Buck together but nothing the show has been telling us and nothing the actors etc are telling us gives me the impression he's being set up to be a long term love interest.

I also think when you look at Buck in some ways he's almost the main character of the show. I know it's an ensemble show and I know more experienced actors like Angela Bassett and Peter Krause get a lot of attention but if you go back an watch earlier seasons a lot of storylines are from Buck's pov to a certain extent. Plus there isn't another character that we've watched grow and change as much as we have Buck. My point is considering Buck is such a central character of the show (and an extremely popular one at that) I find it highly unlikely they're going to just stick him with any ol love interest as his endgame ship. Especially now that Tim is back as showrunner he's expressed that he didn't really like some of Buck and Eddie's past relationships.

Oliver has also talked in interviews about how Buck is going to have to work at his next relationship and I don't see that as being with T*mmy. He hasn't really had to put any work into this thing with him. He liked T*mmy and now they're dating. Same as with any other relationship he's been in. Oliver literally said that is how all of Buck's relationships have been. He likes a person and he gets that person and he said this season that is supposed to change for Buck.

The thing that will be different I think is when Buck finally realizes he's in love with Eddie and has to deal with that. I also wonder if Buck is going to have to work to prove to Eddie he wants to be with him. Eddie has been there loving and supporting Buck for years but then you had Buck saying (last season) that Natalia (this women who he just met) saw him in a way no one else does. Which I think had to have hurt Eddie on some level.

I also wonder if Eddie, once he truly realizes his feelings for Buck will be hesitant to change their relationship. Eddie has historically chosen romantic partners he doesn't allow himself to get too invested in, I think so he doesn't have to be afraid of losing them like he and Chris lost Shannon. I also think that Buck actually dying for a few minutes when he was struck by lightning brought all of this up even more for Eddie. Buck has been the one constant in Eddie and Chris' life and I wonder how Eddie will deal with things as the relationship is changing. I think he'll be afraid of losing Buck and resistant at first so I see a lot of areas where the show can take things to have Buck be the one to fight for Eddie and for them to be together.

There's also the fact that Buddie parallels Bathena, Madney, and Henren all the time. The show has a history of these epic ships while Buck and Eddie have for so long been in these lackluster relationships that go nowhere with partners that are not their equals. The deserve to have a great love story every bit as much as the other characters and that's clearly with each other.

#sorry this got rambly just had a lot of thoughts #911! #buddie

[robotfuckerreal]

I need to talk about this so bad because I love starop so so badly. So viscerally. They follow so many tropes (good&evil, selfish&selfless, twink&hunk) but they are not ONLY opposites attract. They are so alike in so many ways as well. They have both been hurt by megatron, they were both born with predestinies (depending on the continuity), GGRRRRR I could ramble about them forever. I can make an entire list of how they as characters compare and contrast.

A lot of people that I find that don’t like starop as a ship only see it for what it is on the outside. I LOVE starop as a ship where Optimus prime doesnt try to forcefully convert Starscream and Starscream doesn’t reform to be an autobot just because it’s the ‘right’ thing to do or out of love for prime (because Starscream wouldn’t do that). Optimus prime ‘saves’ Starscream from his situation but can’t save him from who he is. Starscream is essentially taken out from an environment where he’s constantly being forced to fawn or nip at megatron so he’s not replaced and is instead given the opportunity to change and become something outside of what he was built to be.

Anyways sorry for the ramble I have robot autism

#transformers #starscream #optimus prime #starop #rant #ramble #im so sorry im autistic #I love this ship a lot #me and my wife tbh