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fandom-go-round · 6 months

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Realizing They're in Love: Reader x BG3

Warnings: Implied Internal Trauma, Personal Relationship Issues, Gross Stuff like Falling in Love

Astarion:

He argues with himself for a long time before love comes to mind. It’s bad enough that he’s starting to like you but love? That’s just going to make things even harder. Astarion feels like the more he tries to talk himself out of it, the worse it gets. You corner him after dinner one night and he smiles, turning up the charm. You ignore his nervousness, giving him a simple wooden box. He immediately fills with dread; you want something. Of course you do. He’s not expecting there to be a book inside, the next one in the series he’s reading. You assure him that you don’t want anything in return, giving him a gentle smile before heading to your own tent. His heart thunders in his chest, fingers trailing over the cover. He’s not in love, Astarion tells himself as he goes to start the book. He can’t be but… if he is, it’s not the worst feeling in the world. Not with you.

Gale:

He’s not against falling in love per say, Gale just isn’t looking. Honestly he’s not. This is more social interaction than he’s had in years and he’s not trying to fuck it up, thank you very much. That doesn’t mean he can’t forget himself, especially when you start asking him questions about magic. Gale loves magic most of all and he only realizes he’s been ranting after twenty minutes. He winces, scolding himself mentally and turns to you. You’re both sitting on the floor of his tent, sipping tea in the early afternoon. He fully anticipates that you’re going to half awake, bored to tears and doing something else. Instead, you’re staring at him with rapt attention, eyes bright and small smile on your face. When he’s silent for too long you ask him to keep going, asking if he’ll keep explaining. Gale is more than happy to continue, something warm in his chest. He hopes that you’ll keep looking at him that way even after he stops talking. And you do.

Halsin:

Loud barks and hoots draw Halsin’s attention, the druid looking up from his papers. You’re a bit away from camp, Scratch and the owlbear cub playing with you. The three of you are chasing each other and wrestling, the cub slamming into the back of your knees. Halsin watches you go flying before laughing and grabbing the cub as best you can. You half swing him around, Scratch barking as you send his friend flying. The owlbear cub gives a roar, rolling through the grass and you laugh, chasing after the dog now. Halsin can’t help but smile; you’re so kind of everyone around you and he enjoys that you can relax. He hasn’t been ignorant to the feelings developing in his chest, just focusing on different things. The warmth he feels only grows as he watches you and he vows to talk about it. Halsin is sure he recognizes the looks you send him; he just needs to find the right time.

Karlach:

She realizes she’s in love after a tough fight. Her blood is still pumping and she wants more enemies to show up so she can have an excuse to go wild. You’re joking around with Wyll on the other side of the battlefield, the warlock turning to say something to you. You offer a smile and begin to hike up the slope and trip. Karlach watches in slow motion as you land hard on your ass, sliding down mud straight into the river. Wyll is frozen on the edge of the bank and she quickly makes he way over, worried that you’re injured. By the time she gets over there, you’re laughing loudly, head thrown all the way back. Her heart skips a beat; you’re covered in blood and mud and all sorts of gunk but all she can see is the right smile on your face. She’s in love.

Lae’zel:

Lae’zel doesn’t call it love. It’s admiration, respect for your skills. There are very few people she would follow verses leading herself and she admits that you’re good at it. She also enjoys the sex and that’s always a bonus. The sun is just beginning to go down and you stop on the edge of a cliff to watch. Lae’zel turns to scold you (the group needs to get back to camp) but she’s struck by your figure. You look like a painting, noble and steadfast. Your face is determined but not tense, taking in the sunset. There’s something in your eyes, something softer than she expects and it takes her breath away. She swears to herself and turns away, missing the affectionate look you send her. She’s doesn’t call it love, even if deep, deep down she wishes she could.

Shadowheart:

Night has finally fallen on a long, long day. Shadowheart is thankful that you’re the one with her on first watch tonight; your silence isn’t looming as she prays and the sound of sharpening blades is soothing. There isn’t the need to fill the silence with noise and it feels calm in a way that’s unfamiliar. Usually she finds the night comfortable but cold, like an winter breeze. You’re like the night but warm, a balm on an open wound. She smiles as she watches you, not looking away when you meet her eyes. You smile and she’s filled with affection, even as her hand throbs. The pain is worth it; you make her feel truly seen.

Wyll:

You’re crouched by a small cave, voice low and arm outstretched. The group had just finished a fight, a camp overrun with bandits. Wyll scowled to himself, looking over the bodies strewed over the ground. The people had been innocent and he wished he had been faster. Movement catches the corner of his vision and he turns, watching as, slowly, a child comes out of the cave. They’re covered in dirt and blood but you smile and they take you hand. Wyll can’t the stop the soft look from coming onto his face as you begin the check for wounds. The world can be a dark place but you give him hope; it’s more than he deserves.

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the-fog-system · 1 year

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actually considering just unfriending 98% of everyone from back home/[cult] because if i have to see another picture of all my “friends” out hanging out and having fun and cutting up with [redacted] i’m gonna actually freak out and it’s gonna be bad. it’s one thing to ~know~ everyone doesn’t care about what happened to you, but to then also have to see her face on my timeline at minimum once a month? i’m sorry but i rly don’t think i can’t do that to myself anymore.

#i just don’t think anyone understand how bad it FUCKING HURTS #for people to comment on ur stuff and say they support you and believe you and then do that #like for fucks sake i know i’m not important to anyone now especially not at home #or at least not in the position to cross my friends minds often #but to know what happened and still choose to do that idk #and maybe it’s because i haven’t been more vocal about specifics and what actually happened publically #but i’m sorry i can’t #i’m not one of those people that can just post their trauma to make people see #but also at the same time why should i have to do that?#i’ve talked about this for over 6 years now and still no one gives a fuck #im sorry this is mainly a vent i’m just rly upset

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outofbinaryspace · 2 years

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#I have many thots going on #I just I know I should get into therapy #bc I have a lot of trauma #and I don’t feel that I can talk to anyone about it #because I don’t want to upset them and/or add to stuff they’re already dealing with #but I can’t stand the idea of therapy #all I hear is fucking anabel’s voice saying you should get therapy and that you’re a good person while crying her eyes out #as if she was the one that just spent two hours being told she was toxic and everyone was uncomfortable around her #I hate that that whole shitshow still hurts me #I hate that whenever someone asks if there were any problems #I tense up expecting everyone to say I was a problem #I hate that I want to know how my ex is doing #if hes experiencing any regret #if he’s realized how fucked up that was #and I hate that I want to know because I still fucking care about them all #I want to know if Marshall is okay #I want to know if anabel figured out why she didn’t like me #the real reason #not just all the petty shit she listed that didn’t make any sense #I hate so much that I care about those stupid assholes #and I especially hate that I just want to talk to Matt #to know for sure he ended it just because anabel didn’t like me #it’s been several months #why am I not over it #why do I still think about this #and the worst part is I can’t even wish it didn’t happen #because if it didn’t happen I wouldn’t have met Nathan #and then I wouldn’t have met my current group of friends who are all so fucking nice #and communicate #and are so understanding

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blckbrrybasket · 2 months

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ᯓ★ 𝐆𝐚𝐳 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

MDNI

SFW

- Gaz listens to Childish Gambino!

- Gaz LOVED scooby doo growing up and velma was his favorite.

- Gaz takes selfies or mirror pictures of himself but doesn’t send them to anyone. He keeps them as a confidence boost on his eyes only tab.

- Gaz LOVES reality TV. He can sit down and binge almost an entire season of some reality show. On leave when he isn’t catching up with people he’s catching up with what he missed on the bachelor.

- Gaz is an expert at finding out information and loves gossip if he isn’t the subject of it. Even if he is this man has so many comebacks stored up no one dares start a playful argument with him for fear of being ripped to shreds…except for Soap.

- Gaz likes to read and often shared recommendations with Ghost, they both like thrillers. Soap makes fun of them for it yet Gaz always shoots back with a variation of Soap not being able to read (Soap never learns and always goes to make a joke about it again)

- When Soap laughs at something immature Gaz tries to stand there like “🧍” and act mature, but the moment Soap lets out a hyena laugh/snorts or if Soap bumps into Gaz, Gaz loses it and starts laughing

- Gaz is the type of person to swat people or grab onto them when laughing really hard. He has almost peed himself when laughing.

SFW (serious)

- If Gaz has a dream where it feels like he’s falling he shoots out of bed and panics. It’s one of the bigger lasting effects of him having fallen out of two helicopters. He still gets phantom pains on his body sometimes, but the biggest one is from the trauma of his harness catching him cutting into him.

- Gaz is super in tune with his emotions and is quite open minded. He’s generally flexible, aside from plans changing last minute.

- Going off of that one of Gaz’s biggest pet peeves are plans changing at the last minute. He and Soap have had countless arguments over Soap changing stuff at the last second.

- Gaz has OCD, i’m not sure who started this headcanon but I completely agree with it. If you look at him closely you can see him swiping his hands over his pants once, twice, three times. If someone interrupts his compulsion he has to takes deep breaths before restarting. Consequently he’ll randomly go silent when talking if he has to focus on finishing a compulsion.

- Gaz is a mama’s boy and was raised how to treat women respectfully. He can go from having a great relationship with someone but the moment they something bad about women he will never like them again. He’s a proud feminist!

- Has a thing about towels. Gaz can’t use them more than once or twice because he can practically imagine all the germs that are on the fabric. Even if he is 100% clean coming out of the shower it doesn’t get rid of the thought.

NSFW

- Not vanilla, but not a huge freak.

- He’s usually up for trying something once to see if either of you like it. If not it’s no sweat off his back, at least he learned what you do and don’t like.

- There are lines he draws though. He doesn’t like anything that involve bodily fluids. Gaz prides himself on being a clean guy, but with his OCD (and kind of being a germaphobe) he can’t do it. As well as blood, to him he sees it enough on the battlefield, he wouldn’t want to see it on you. Gaz could only imagine if you were hurt.

- That’s not to say he doesn’t like a bit of man handling though. Gaz is a strong man and he knows it. His favorite thing to do is to drop you on the bed and watch you bounce back up. Trying to crawl to right yourself is a hard feat since he almost immediately pounces on you.

- He will 1000% hold your wrists above your head and while in your ear. Gaz says the dirtiest shit in bed. It comes naturally to him. He loves seeing you relax before his eyes at the sound of his voice alone.

- Wouldn’t be opposed to a threesome as long as they know you’re his partner and not theirs. He wouldn’t do it so he could have another person fawn over him. Gaz would do it to worship you. Once he’s in a relationship with you there only is you for him.

- Second easiest to get hard out of 141. If you push on his chest/shoulder/abdomen to get him to sit back down his blood will immediately flow south.

- Loves when you take what you want from him. Definitely a switch and would beg on his knees in front of you if you wanted him to.

- Gaz LOVES worshipping your body. Some degradation here and there, but ultimately he can’t help but spout off compliments when he’s buried in you.

- Will definitely send you pictures when deployed. He doesn’t do it to tease you and not let you cum, he wants you to cum to them. Gaz didn’t curate all those pictures for them to go to waste.

- Aftercare expert. Everything is tuned to you specifically. He’s had a few partners and with each he paid attention to what they liked most. Expect a warm bath for you to relax in, followed by food you love, a show on that you’ve been binging, all available on your bed so you can rest how you want to.

- His favorite parts about sex is the foreplay and aftercare. Sorry not sorry!

#call of duty x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x you #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #kyle gaz x reader #kyle garrick headcanon #gaz headcanons #call of duty x you #cod modern warfare #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #call of duty #kyle garrick x reader #task force 141 #call of duty modern warfare #headcanons

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nicromancytarot · 28 days

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WHO IS COMING INTO YOUR LIFE ROMANTICALLY?

This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to try another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.

I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I don’t change for these readings and I do not fake readings. I would tell you the cards I got but I pull like 20-30 cards each reading and that just slightly a strenuous task to write them all down lmao.

PICK A CARD READING

I asked my spirit guides what you need to know about the next person who is coming into your life romantically, pick a pile and find out what they had to say!

Pile 1 ———> Pile 2 ———> Pile 3

PILE 1

This person is embodying the energy of the king of cups, they are giving off much more masculine energy, this doesn’t mean that they are a guy, however this person is more in tune with their masculine, leadership side. When you meet this person, they will be going with the flow, allowing life to take them wherever, and coincidentally they will find you.

I am getting the feeling that this person is new to most, if not all of you. So I’m not seeing any exes or reconciliations in this pile.

This person seems to have been going through something which led them astray or possibly ended in them getting hurt, for some this may have been a breakup.

Around the time that the two of you meet, they’re going to act like a taster for you, they’ll give you these little moments with them, which leave you waiting for more, yearning for them to allow you in some more, but you only receive a drip, a dribble of what they could actually give you.

They’ll keep this going on for a while, keeping you interested and guessing, during this time they may have you lined up as an accomplishment or trophy, they may still have feelings for an ex, and have you as a second option.

It will take a while to get out of the situationship and bring yourselves to something more committed and long term, honestly I’m seeing around 6-8 months of no label.

All while it can absolutely end well, it can give you what you desperately want in a relationship, the agony and anticipation may turn to be too much for you.

For those of you who choose to walk away from this without letting it grow or become anything more, you are making a good decision, you’re embodying the queen of wands energy, you don’t need anyone to define you or make you any more worthy than you already are.

For those of who choose to stay, be careful of your heart, make sure to protect your dignity and don’t let this person get you down, you can build something beautiful with a lot of patience and determination, however you are always ok to walk away.

PILE 2

A lot of you are getting over something at the moment, I’m unfortunately getting an ex, someone from your past who I’m not too sure that you received closure from when you last saw or spoke to them.

I do see this ex coming back into your life, if they come back during mercury retrograde, dawg bin them, we are in no need of negativity during this time! However, for those who do not come back during this current moment, either you will contact them, or they will contact you. I do see that a lot of you have some stuff to talk out with this past person.

The closure conversation won’t exactly go to plan, you may be sucked in by their drama, trauma dumping or a poor attempt to get you back. I do feel as though you will entertain this situation for a little, perhaps not too long, but long enough for some emotions and feelings to arise again.

However on the other side of things, you have someone completely new, someone who is willing to give you things that this past person wasn’t able to supply for you. This person is coming in hot and heavy, they will be very direct about what they want with you.

I feel like you��ve always been the one to make the first move, or admit your feelings, this person will turn your life on it’s head, they will be honest, direct, real and just very straightforward about what they desire.

They may say something along the lines of not wanting to be with you until you’re over your ex, this could be a drunken confession where you try to tell them that you are, and they tell you you’re not. It will either end up with you crying into their hands as they cradle your head, or some hot and heavy make out session lmao.

This person is willing to wait for you, they will be on the sidelines for as long as you need them to be. It doesn’t seem like they will be letting go easily.

The ex person is giving me twin flame vibes, meanwhile the new person is a soulmate.

So it’s either out with the old and in with the new, or out with the new and back to the old.

The choice is yours.

PILE 3

You guys seem to have gone through some type of break up as well lmao, something which forced you to let go of someone that you cared a lot about. If it’s not a relationship, then it’s a situation that had you up at night upset and stressing.

During this time there was this one person that you would confide in, this person was there to rub your back while you cried, and tell you that everything was ok.

They watched you through your healing journey, helping you become one with yourself and your expression once again, help you build yourself up until you felt comfortable in your own skin. This person is a people watcher, especially when it comes to you, they’re observing to the point of writing down every little thing about you, you could ask this person the colour of your eyes, or how many freckles are on your face and they would be able to answer without a second glance. They know you like they know themself.

This person may call you their flower or petal, you may have a flower relating name, something to do with how delicately they view you, you’re like a piece of china to them, one wrong touch and you’d break. They don’t want to break you.

They metaphorically stand by your bedside as you sleep, protecting you from every scary dream, or any unwanted negativity that could come your way, they want nothing more than to protect you and keep your safe, it’s their purpose.

You are Barbie, and they are just Ken. (No gender affirmed)

This person will wait for the right time before making their move, and when they do, they will resume leadership and continue to look after you for as long as you allow them to.

This person will love you like you have never been loved before, they will caress every inch of your skin as though you were sculpted by the Gods, they want nothing more than for you to be theirs, and them to resume being yours.

Because they will always be yours.

#tarot #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #tarot witch #free tarot #tarot reading #tarot cards #pick a card #pick a pile

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luveline · 2 months

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jade baby I was wondering if you could do a hurt/comfort with Steve, but the reader comforting steve while he deals with his hearing loss after all the times he got beat up and stuff? Maybe he’s frustrated and she makes him feel better:’)

ty for requesting <3 fem, 1k

Steve’s eardrum was weakened after multiple traumas to the side of his head, but it’s the strangulation of vines in the Creel house that finally gives him permanent hearing loss in his left ear. Matter of time, the doctor said.

He pretends it doesn’t bother him. He doesn’t wear the hearing aid he’s fitted for, he doesn’t go for his follow up appointments. Steve acts like he got better just like everybody else did (sort of). He doesn’t care about taking his shirt off at the pool, ‘cos you all have scars from your time in the upside down, but he doesn’t talk about his ear.

“Woah, that kid can make a wave,” he says, squinting against the sunshine, his legs still wet from swimming.

In the pool, Dustin and his friends play an aggressive game of Marco Polo. Max sits on the side with her feet in the water shouting Polo’s that only serve to confuse him, Lucas beside her laughing and trying to curve his own shouting with his hand. Dustin throws his arm out at them and soaks their swim shorts in retribution.

“He’d be winning if they stopped messing with him,” you say, sitting on the lounger next to him and passing him one of the drinks from your bag. It’s still cold. “When’s Robin getting here?”

“Uh, she’s with Nance.”

“Oh, gotcha. When is she coming?” you ask, a little louder.

He must have missed a couple of words and assumed you asked where she was. He frowns, turning the can of original coke you’ve given him over in his hand.

“Steve?”

He looks up, turning himself to you more squarely. “Yeah?”

“Do you know when Robin’s gonna be here?”

He presses a finger to his ear. “You just asked me that, huh?”

“It’s okay. I’m just wondering.”

“Uh.” He ruffles his hair, face angled down to the floor. “I don’t know. Half an hour?”

Steve isn’t easy, he’s not promiscuous (anymore) (and who cares if he is?) but he loves flirty attention, and he’s a friend in need. Also, you have a huge awful crush on him even if you won’t admit to it.

You put your hand on his knee. “Half an hour for you to kiss me stupid, then.”

He lifts his head. “You wish.” He smiles at you all smug as he covers your hand with his. “Half an hour? I could rock your world.”

You both laugh and move your hands back to your sides. Your skin feels warm where he’d held it, you can’t help smiling, but it’s obvious it hasn’t really taken his mind off of the problem. Your ruse ran out of steam too quickly.

Steve looks down at his chest. “I’m sorry. It must be annoying, repeating what you’re saying all the time.”

“It’s not.”

“Come on, I know it’s the worst.”

“Steve, it doesn’t bother me. You need me to repeat what I said, or you need me to talk louder sometimes, so I’ll do it. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” he says, “I should just wear the– the hearing aid,” —his voice goes low with embarrassment— “and stop inconveniencing everybody.”

“You’re not an inconvenience, Steve.” You tilt your head gently toward your shoulder, palm up on the chair between you. “Steve, I think everybody would agree with me when I say that we don’t mind. It’s up to you. If Max doesn’t wanna use her cane, you don’t care, do you? You just let her use your arm. It’s the same thing. Or, it feels like the same thing for us when you don’t use your hearing aid.”

He winces.

You really don’t like the look of it, unsure if you’ve said the wrong thing. “Well, I could learn sign,” you say.

“What?”

“Sign language? We could learn how to sign, and then you don’t have to wear the hearing aid, n’ you don’t have to worry I’m repeating myself.”

“You’d do that?”

“Yeah,” you say, smiling in bemusement. “Of course I would. And it would help anyways in places like this.” You gesture to the tens of kids shouting and splashing in the pool. “There’s so much noise. I can barely hear myself sometimes. And imagine the shit we could talk at the movies–”

“Thank you,” Steve says, surprising you with his arms suddenly reaching out. He kisses your cheek as he pulls you in, and he rubs your back gently, his face pressed to your hair. You hug him back and his arms tighten around you.

“You’re welcome,” you say. You haven’t even done anything.

“Seriously,” he says, giving your back a good scrunch with his hand.

It’s worth it for the scrunch alone, but you really mean it. Of course you’d learn to sign for him, you’ll do anything he needs you to do if it’ll make him more comfortable with coping with this new change. You smile into his naked shoulder, the smell of sunscreen under your nose, his hair tickling your ear.

“Oh, god, are you guys serious?” Robin asks. “When’s the wedding?”

“Should’ve started with the joke,” Steve says, putting his chin atop your head rather than pulling away. You turn just enough to see Robin from the corner of your eye.

She raises her eyebrows. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, just swapping out best friends for the better model.”

“I resent that, Steve, but I choose to forgive you because I’m in a good mood and Nancy made sandwiches.”

“My mom made them,” Nancy says from behind Robin's shoulder, looking down at the brown paper bag she’s carrying.

They turn away from you to call the kids in for lunch. “What did she…” Steve says.

“Her mom made sandwiches. I’ll get you a PB and J before Mike claims them all,” you promise.

He smiles a line, nodding at you appreciatively. When you turn away, he brings a hand to his ear, and he doesn’t hate himself for something he can’t help.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington scenario #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

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slut4thebroken · 1 month

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Second Chances

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Emmett x reader

Summary | Emmett takes advantage of your kindness and hospitality.

Warnings | Smut, 18+, non con, emotional manipulation, praise, guilt tripping, very large age gap, painful sex, first time, breeding, crying, bro has hella trauma fr.

Words | 2.5 k

Notes | Direct result of my Emmett brain rot (Also two fics in one day??🫣)

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

“Here you go.” You smiled, handing the steaming mug to him.

“Thanks.” His voice was quiet as he took it from you and held it in his lap.

“What’s your name?” You asked, sitting down next to him, hoping you weren’t intruding too much. He paused for a moment, seemingly debating if he actually wanted to make conversation with you and give you “personal” information about himself.

“Emmett.” He finally said.

You gave him your name and watched as his eyes dragged down your body, taking in every inch of you. With a blush, you cleared your throat and looked away for a moment to gather your thoughts. “Are you sure you don’t need anything else? Are you warm enough?” He looked over you again with a neutral expression that made you squirm a little.

“Actually I’m still a little cold. Is there anywhere I could go that’s inside?”

“Oh- yes! Of course.” You said quickly as you got to your feet. “My parents will be out of the house for another couple of hours so you can use some extra blankets and maybe lay down on the couch for a while.” You smiled. He didn’t return the expression as he stood up and followed you for a couple minutes until you finally walked up a porch to the front door.

“Okay, let me just grab another blanket and then I’ll start the fire place as well.” You ran off to retrieve a blanket and when you came back, he was sitting on the couch looking around the room.

He gave you a small “thank you” after you handed him the blanket and you could feel his eyes on you as you walked forward, then kneeled down in front of the fireplace. “You live here with your parents?” He suddenly asked, almost startling you.

“Yeah. Since there’s three of us, we got our own place. A lot of other people had to share.” He hummed in acknowledgment and you finished up with starting the fire before turning around to face him, finding his eyes already on you. “Can I get you anything else?”

“This is more than enough.” He said softly.

“Okay… Well, I’ll let you rest. If you’re hungry I can try to make something?” You offered with a kind smile.

“Actually I’d rather talk with you.”

“Oh-” You said, eyes widening in surprise— He didn’t seem like the kind of man who would want to make small talk with a stranger. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. It’s been a while since I’ve talked to someone like this.” You hesitantly got up and sat down next to him on the couch.

“Like what?” You asked curiously.

“So loud… and about things other than survival.” His voice was still quiet, but this time there was a bit of a solemn undertone to it.

“Oh.” You bit your lip, trying to think of what to say, but not really knowing how to approach this. “You never… had anyone to talk to about normal stuff? Surely it wasn’t all survival.” You can’t even imagine what he must have experienced. When he suddenly looked away and clenched his jaw, you realized that you might’ve over stepped. “I’m sorry, that was— I shouldn't have pried…”

“It’s fine. I had a family, but they’re gone now.” He still wasn’t looking at you. Taking one last sip from the mug, he leaned forward, then placed it on the coffee table.

“God, I- I’m so sorry.” You said quietly.

“It’s silly, but… I miss being able to hug them— to hug people.” He finally looked at you again, this time with a sad smile. “I remember the last time I felt someone’s touch… 11 weeks ago.” That must have been when his family died…

“Would you like a hug?” You offered nervously, hoping you weren’t too bold again. He studied you for another moment before nodding.

“That would be really nice.” Once you had his approval, you moved closer and wrapped your arms around him, letting him do the same even though his wet clothes were starting to dampen yours. He let out a quiet breath and relaxed into the embrace. “Thank you… I’ve been so lonely.” He whispered, making you frown.

“You won’t have to be anymore. The people here are very kind, you’ll make plenty of friends.”

“I can tell.” His voice was a little amused now and he pulled back just enough to look at you. “If it’s not too much trouble… could I hug you a little more?”

“Of course.” You said instantly, then let out a startled sound when he lifted you onto his lap so you were straddling his thighs. You thought he meant more as in for a longer period of time, not.. this…

“Thank you.” He said again, pulling you closer and burying his face in the crook of your neck. You were stiff for a few seconds, still trying to process this new development, but finally you relaxed into him and hugged him a little tighter. “I’ve almost forgotten what it feels like.” He whispered against your neck.

“To hug?” You wondered, trying to understand.

“Yes. But also the gentle touch of a woman.” A blush took over your face and you cleared your throat awkwardly. “You know, my wife… I was with her when she passed.” He said quietly. You were already dreading where this was going, not sure you could handle learning about any more of the pain he’s suffered since the start of everything. “I had a really hard time understanding and accepting this… but she said she wanted me to move on. To be happy again.” One of his arms stayed wrapped around your upper body, but the other moved a little lower, pulling you closer so your hips were also flush with his.

“Emmett…” You said quietly, trying to pull away, but he just tightened his grip and you finally felt the bulge pressed up against your heat. You tried not to gasp at the realization.

“Shh… It’s okay. I just— You look so much like her…” You had no idea what to say. You’ve never been in a position like this before. “I’m sorry.” He suddenly pulled away and you stared down at him in confusion. “I’m sorry. I don’t deserve this. Not after everything I’ve done— everything I didn’t do.” Your lips parted, but no words could come out for a moment.

“You deserve feeling safe and cared for. Everything you had to do was for the sake of staying alive.” At least you assumed it was. Honestly you have no idea what he’s done. “And it’s not your fault— what happened to your family. You did everything you could.” You said softly and he started shaking his head. “Yes. You can’t blame yourself, Emmett. Maybe that’s why your wife said that to you before she passed… because she knew how much you’d struggle with it.”

“You remind me of her so much.” He said through a choked sob, making you freeze. You had no idea he’d get so emotional. Not knowing what else to do, you just pulled him back into the hug and held him tightly. “That’s exactly the kind of response she would’ve given.” He croaked. In response, you just hugged him even tighter.

“It’s okay…” You whispered. “I’m so sorry, Emmett. No one deserves to go through what you have.”

“It hurts.” He cried, making your heart ache for him.

“Tell me what you need. How can I help?” You said quickly, not wanting to see him like this any longer.

“Can I— can I kiss you?”

“What?!” You choked out, making him pull back to look at you. The tear tracks on his cheeks were far less than what you thought they’d be, but maybe they just wiped off on your dress.

“Please. I miss her so much and… god you look exactly like her.” He whispered, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek.

“I…” You’ve never kissed anyone before. Are you really about to give it away to a stranger you just met less than an hour ago? “Emmett…”

“I know I don’t deserve it— I know. But I just… it hurts so bad, I can’t take it.” He all but whimpered, making your hesitant expression melt into something softer and more sympathetic.

“…I’ve never kissed anyone before.” You admitted quietly and you swore his eyes darkened, but it was too hard to really tell.

“I know I’m asking far too much of you— I know I don’t deserve your kindness,”

“Stop saying things like that.” You frowned. “You deserve kindness, you deserve to feel loved, just like everyone else.” He stared at you for a moment, his eyes still glossy with tears, then he was suddenly leaning forward and capturing your lips in a kiss. You let out a muffled sound of surprise and brought your hands to his chest, trying to push him away. In response, he snaked his hand around your head to grasp your hair, holding you still as he moaned quietly.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled against your lips. You let out another startled sound when he suddenly threw you off of him so you were laying on your back on the couch. Before you could move away, he was crawling over you, kissing you again as his hands roamed your body.

“Emmett-” You tried to say as you continued pushing his chest, but he was too strong. “Stop!”

“I know.” He panted before snaking his hand down your stomach all the way to the apex of your thighs. He slipped under your dress easily and roughly cupped your sex, making you whimper.

“Emmett, please stop.”

“I will. I will— I just need this. I haven’t been with a woman in so long…” He whispered. “I promise I’ll be fast.”

“Please don’t,” You whimpered, already feeling tears brimming in your eyes.

“I know. I’m sorry.” His hand suddenly left your body to open his pants and free his cock, then he was pulling your panties to the side and lining up.

“Please! I- I’m a..” You sobbed, trying anything to get this to stop.

“I’ll be gentle.” He promised, then faltered and added, “At least… I’ll try to be.” When you felt the head of his cock drag through your folds, your body went completely rigid.

“Please! Emmett, please don’t,” You cried, still trying to push him away.

“Shh…” The blunt head of his cock was against your entrance now, pushing as hard as possible, trying to fit inside you. When he finally breached your opening, his hand slapped over your mouth, muffling your shrill scream. “Oh— fuck… I'm not gonna last.” He moaned loudly, letting his head drop down for a moment. The tears in your eyes were finally falling and you sobbed almost violently behind his hand. Your crying only got worse though when he continued pushing in.

“Almost there.” He whispered and you let out an anguished sob in response. It felt like you were being ripped open as he continued pushing deeper, a lot farther than what you could comfortably take. “Good girl… Just a little more.” Your body was trembling from the pain and you started clawing at him, trying anything to get this to stop. But he was undeterred. When he finally bottomed out, he let out a low groan that was overshadowed by your cry of pain.

“I know… I’m sorry. Fuck, you feel so good. Just like how she felt.” He whispered. “I think she’d be happy that it’s you.” He gave you a small smile, then slowly pulled out until only the tip was inside before forcing it back in.

“Please!” You cried, the word coming out muffled from behind his hand.

“God- your cunt is so good.” He groaned, picking up the pace, making you cry harder.

“Stop! Please…” You whimpered brokenly.

“I know, baby. I’m almost done, I promise.” He said breathily. You tried kicking your legs, thrashing under him, pushing him away, but he was too strong. “Just a little longer, you’re doing so good.” He removed his hand, but before you could scream, he was kissing you again. This time, he shoved his tongue passed your parted lips, licking into your mouth in a desperate, almost feral manner. That, along with the fact that you couldn’t focus on this kiss because of how hard you were crying, made it incredibly messy and sloppy and wet.

He snapped his hips into you, chasing his orgasm as he kissed you like he’d never be able to kiss anyone ever again, making it feel like you could barely breathe. Mostly because of the kiss, but also because of how overwhelming the pain of the stretch was. He continued kissing you and his facial hair felt scratchy against face, only furthering your discomfort.

“I’m close.” He whispered against your lips. At least it was almost over. “I haven’t filled up a cunt in over a year.” He practically growled, making you stiffen again.

“N-no… Emmett, please don’t. Please pull out.” You begged desperately, trying to speak coherently through all of the crying.

“I thought you said I deserve this? That I deserve to finally be happy after everything.” He frowned, making you falter.

“I didn’t mean… this.” You choked out, not sure what else to say.

“I know…” He said quietly, letting his eyes flutter shut. “I’ll try to pull out.”

“Emmett, please. You have to,” He leaned down and cut you off with another kiss as his thrusts became even rougher.

“You’re such a good girl…” He murmured against your lips, breathing heavily as he neared his release. “So good. I’m gonna make you mine. I’ll take care of you, just like I took care of her. But we’ll be safe this time...” You shook your head, unable to do anything else. “No monsters, no illness— It’s gonna be perfect. We’ll even have some boys, yeah?”

“No,” You sobbed, quickly feeling defeated. You couldn’t stop this no matter how hard you tried. “Please, Emmett… I just turned 18, I- I can’t…” He moaned quietly when you said that.

“Shh. Yes you can. I’ll help you, baby, we’ll do it together.” You shook your head in disagreement as you continued to cry. “Fuck,” He choked out, eyes closing again. “Ready?”

“No— no, Emmett… please. Please pull out!” You yelled, making him curse under his breath. With one final groan, he forced his cock all the way in, pushing up against your cervix uncomfortably.

“Oh, good girl.” He moaned, lazily rutting into you as he rode out his high. “So fucking good. So tight… milking every fucking drop.” He said proudly, making you cry harder at the verbal reminder that he just came inside you.

“Emmett…” You whimpered, feeling his cock twitch inside you.

“Thank you.” He said through a breath. “Thank you so much.” He almost sounded like he was about to cry in relief and that made you falter. This man has been alone for weeks, just haunted by the memories of his family with no real outlet or source of comfort. So when someone finally offered him some… he jumped at the chance immediately. You probably would’ve done the same, had you lost your entire family.

“And I meant what I said. I’m going to keep you safe this time, I promise.” He said quietly, reaching down to feel where his cock was bulging your stomach— where a baby would be growing soon enough. “All of you.”

#emmett smut #emmett aqp2 #emmett a quiet place #emmett x reader #emmett x you #cillian murphy

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procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics · 9 months

Text

snowfall

summary: when she’s young and in between foster families, she meets a scrawny kid named Simon. Simon sits to the side while the other kids play, and she gives him her sandwich. When he leaves, forced to go back to his dad, she feels bad for him.

Then, when she gets older, she realizes that Simon was the lucky one. He made it out.

notes: based on the song snowfall, bc I’ve been listening to it and thinking about this fic a lot lately

warnings: mentions of abuse, human trafficking and childhood trauma. Violence. Allusions to smut? Afab!reader

taglist: @majesticwren @obsessiveformiyatwins (hmu to be added to any taglist!)

masterlist | requests are OPEN!

You’re back to square one, where you always end up when a foster family lets you go. A big, grey house that was built in the sixties and not once painted afterwards, that’s square one. Makeshift beds and damp rooms, showers that smell of piss and food that has the consistency of cardboard.

The house is so terrible on the inside that everyone flees into the parking lot, a barely better place to be. In the dirt-poor areas of Manchester, it’s all anyone can ask for. The younger kids play with chalk or run around, chasing each other, while the ones your age pass cigarettes and other stuff to each other.

None of you know each other’s names, but you’ve all seen each other in passing. Kids that were left on their own, that don’t trust easy won’t talk to each other either. Not really.

It’s rare to see a new face, so the teen sitting off to the side while the others talk catches you by surprise.

He’s massively tall already, but scrawny as hell, his hair in the awkward stage between short and being grown out. His eyes flit around, meeting no one else’s.

“Haven’t seen you before.” You greet, and he barely looks up. You offer him your name, and he pauses before he responds.

“Simon.” He says finally. There’s a short silence, broken by his rumbling stomach, and you hand him your sandwich without thinking twice. You’re not a big fan of tomatoes. He hesitates, inspecting it before he takes a bite. He barely nods as you tell him you don’t like tomatoes, and you doubt he even heard you.

“What are you doing here? Never seen you before.” You attempt, trying to make conversation. He shrugs in response, and you don’t pry further.

Simon sticks to you like glue in the days afterwards, a silent shadow that towers over you. Timmy, a kid that joined a gang after feeling overly confident, tries to approach you twice, but apparently, Simon’s glower is more intimidating than his stature.

After a week and a half, a social worker interrupts a game of Uno between you and Simon, pulling him away for a conversation. That usually means one of two things: going home, or going to a family of strangers.

You never get to find out which one it is, because Simon doesn’t say goodbye. You tell yourself that he made it home, or at least made it out. He seems like the type.

***

Against your hopes, and in line with all odds, you don’t make it out. Bouncing between foster families leaves you frustrated, angry and alone. A recipe for disaster, and you know it. Two years after Simon left the grey house that smelled like a germaphobe’s nightmare, you did as well.

Barely eighteen, with no one to back you up and not a single penny on your name, that went to shit quicker than you might have thought, and you found yourself exactly where you did not want to end up: the crime scene of Manchester.

It started off with little favors. Timmy convinced you. He said it wasn’t hard to sell drugs. That you’d only have to do it a few times, and then you’d have enough money to start yourself off with a real job. Something honest.

Something that would finally get you some real security. A sense of permanence.

Over the years, little favors turned into bigger favors.

Timmy, of course, didn’t know batshit about anything, and he certainly did not care to look into things more than he had to for you. And by the time your idiot, barely not-adolescent brain realized that, you were in too deep.

You’d done everything wrong, because selling drugs for a few days ‘wouldn’t hurt anyone’.

That was how you ended up as the cliché character of anti-everything prevention movies they showed you, back in the grey house. Abused, beaten-up, trafficked, sold, and not even out of your twenties.

Each time you thought about it, you wanted to laugh at yourself, to try and stop yourself from missing the gray house and the exhausted social workers that weren’t paid enough to care for any of you.

Just this time, you couldn’t go back to the gray house. You weren’t a child anymore. This time, people came for you to make sure that you’d pay them back what you owed them. Technically, what Timmy owed them.

They, whoever they were, took you away from Manchester, the only semblance of home you’d ever known. You found yourself in an abandoned cargo hall, freezing cold. From what you could see, it was snowing outside, the chill creeping inside. The girl next to you was out like a light, either from drugs, exhaustion, the cold, or a combination of all three.

You could make peace with the fact that you would never get out. You could just accept it, like you’d accepted everything else in your life. A voice in your head screamed that it wasn’t fair, and it felt like that scream was becoming more and more real. There was a ridiculous notion in the back of your mind, telling you to get up.

It bled into the screech from the gates of the cargo hall, protesting as they were opened. Your captors pointed their guns, but thick, white smoke filled the building, and you felt yourself become suddenly sleepy.

The last thing you saw were shadowy figures storming the hall, gunfire ringing out, smoke filling your nose and mouth.

***

When you came to, the smoke had dissipated, but you were still in the cargo hall. A group of men in camouflage walked around the hall, checking the men that were lying on the floor. One of them approached you and the others.

Almost automatically, you slinked backwards, out of his reach, but he gave you a soft smile.

He was young, too young to be in a place like this, with a sweet expression on his face that felt too saccharine to belong in the midst of this violence.

“I’m Gaz.” He said. “I’m with the British army, and we’re here to take you home. Are you hurt?”

Varying reactions came from the people around you, and you felt yourself numbly nodding. Home. Had a God heard your prayer and then decided to turn it into a joke?

The doctors arrived a while later, taking a look at everyone that had been with you. Some of the girls around you were drug addicts, and going into withdrawal was never pretty. The cargo hall quickly filled with the stench of vomit and cold sweat, but it meant that you got the time to look at the men that had stormed the hall. A gruff man with sideburns, a Scot with a mohawk that was chattering away with Gaz and-

He was hulking, a mountain that wore a skull instead of a face. You’d never met someone like him in your life, but he paused when he saw you, and you knew that he’d seen you before, this behemoth of a man.

***

It takes two more days before you’re back in England, but it doesn’t feel like a homecoming. Some of the girls have people waiting for them, parents, children, boyfriends, girlfriends to run into their arms and hold. Some are like you. No one comes, and they leave on their own.

You want to follow them. You can’t go back to Manchester. You’ll only return for your papers, if those still exist, and then you’ll leave.

You’re about to finally lift your feet from the cold, concrete floor when you feel a pair of eyes burning into your back.

Turning around, you see it’s the one they call Ghost. He’s standing off to the side, and it reminds you of something. You can’t figure out what it is, even though you try so so hard to just remember.

“Thank you for getting us out of there.” You blurt out, and he looks like he wants to say something, his jaw almost cramping together as he makes a tiny movement. You think it’s towards you.

“I owed you for the sandwich.” He says. The shrug looks forced, and you know that he can’t bring himself to say something more honest. “No tomatoes, of course.”

The seconds it takes you to understand seem to tick by outside of your brain, like a clock hammering with each moment passed. Then, your jaw falls slack.

“Simon?” you ask, too loudly, and the Scot named Soap snaps his head around to stare at you.

He doesn’t reply, and he doesn’t have to. You recognize his height, his eyes, the awkward standing off to the side so suddenly that it hits you like a fucking train. How couldn’t you see it before?

This is Simon. The kid that-

“You left without saying fucking anything!” you accuse, and you’re sure the others think you’re exes.

He just nods, and that almost infuriates you. But he made it out. He made something of himself, and you have to respect that. It’s all you want, always slipping away from your grasp, and Simon got it. Carved it out for himself, by the looks of it.

And finally, after an eternity, Simon steps forward and holds out a bag with the yellow-and-green subway logo on it.

“Hope you like it.” He mumbles, and it’s an almost adorable gesture. There’s no tomatoes, as he promised. Someone remembered something from your childhood.

You take the bag, and then you take the step separating you and hug him tightly. Are you overstepping a boundary? Is he going to push you off roughly?

He doesn’t hug you back, but he does allow you to wrap your arms around him (or, as much as you can do that with his new size).

His teammates stare, but you don’t let go. Not for a while.

“You got a place to stay?” he asks, when the others have gotten over the shock of your interaction. There’s genuine concern in his eyes, and a part of you hopes that you’re special in this, because you helped him too. Somehow.

“McDonalds is always open, and I’ve got…” you reach into your pocket, finding a crumpled note. “Enough for a large drink.”

He shakes his head. He offers his apartment, his home up to you and you should say no because he could traffic you, or rape you, or hurt you just enough to make you drag yourself back to Timmy.

You get into the car with him, and your mind screams danger. Your gut’s feeling alright though, so you ignore it.

The first change beyond the obvious of his massive frame that you notice is that he’s gotten even quieter. While you drag yourself up the dark staircase with some effort, he stays true to his name, not a single scrape coming from his combat boots.

In the apartment, he switches on the light, and you take in the spartan interior. A small kitchen, a sofa, a TV, a coffeetable with a mug still on it. No dinnertable, but three pictures on the refrigerator.

A young boy, a woman that reminds you of the younger Simon (maybe his mother?) and his teammates. Gaz, Soap, the older guy, two men that you don’t recognize, standing in scenery that looks almost tropical.

He lets you stare, before he quietly shows you the bathroom. You let the lock click behind you, even though you know that wouldn’t make much of an obstacle for the person he’s become.

You shower as quickly as you can, slipping back into your underwear. You hesitate for a moment, and then you grab the big, fluffy bathrobe hanging over the towel rack. Someone had vomited on your shirt, and you refused to put it on again.

The robe was too big for you, black with white skulls on it, and you highly doubted that Simon had bought it for himself. Maybe the Scot that cracked jokes with, or rather at him, had bought it for him and he’d caved to using it.

When you walked out, Simon was pulling clean sheets over the bed in his bedroom. He lifted his head when he heard you, and even through the balaclava, you knew he was lifting a brow at you.

“You’re wearing Soap’s bathrobe.” He commented.

“Someone vomited on my shirt.”

Simon did not reply, but he did turn around to rummage in his closet, throwing you one of his old shirts. You went back into the bathroom to put it on, and decided to not comment on the fact that it looked like a midi dress on you.

He closed the door behind him when he went to sleep, and the click of the lock felt a little insulting to you. Yet, you couldn’t expect him to trust you.

Sleep did not come easy to you, and when it did, you only had nightmares.

After a particularly bad one, you woke up with a start, only to find yourself face-to-face with one of your captors, face hid behind a balaclava, and you screamed.

Only after a few moments did you realize that it was Simon.

Between your panicked apologizing, and his nervous tea-making, it took a while for either of you to speak.

“I’m sorry for not telling you I was leaving.” He said finally, sitting across from you on the sofa, and still managing to take up three fourths of it.

“You didn’t have to. You didn’t know me.” You replied.

“I clung to you.” He said under his breath, as if it was an admittance of weakness.

“I liked it. Made me feel less alone.”

Your hands found each other in the dark, his fingers curling around yours and you swore that you could feel his heart hammer in his wrist.

“I don’t want to go to Manchester alone.” You whispered. It was an admittance of defeat.

“I’ll go with you.” Simon replied. He had no incentive to.

In the dark, it didn’t feel as preposterous or dangerous to move closer to him. He stilled when your knee bumped against his leg, and you held your breath, waiting for his rejection.

It didn’t come, only a shaky breath from Simon that gave the smallest of hints about how he was feeling. His hand was still holding yours, warm and a little rough, but it felt real. It made you move closer, to try and lean into his touch.

His hand slipped from yours, and for a moment, you thought that you’d done something wrong, but then you felt it on your waist, and Simon pulled you onto his lap. Your hands flew to his chest to steady yourself, and you could feel his hammering heart beating under his shirt.

Simon was so massive that he engulfed you, drowned out everything around you, and you loved it. There was nothing but him, and that didn’t scare you. It made you feel unfathomably safe.

He hugged you suddenly, a mirror gesture to what you’d done at the airport, his thick arms wrapping around you, pulling you even closer, until your lips were almost on his and he looked up at you with something in his eyes that you couldn’t place, because no one had ever looked at you like that.

You couldn’t help kissing him. Slowly, asking, almost begging, you peeled up the lower half of his balaclava, waiting for him to tell you to stop. Instead, even in the darkness, you knew that the stubble on his jaw was blonde, because it was impossible to forget someone like him. Your lips found his and it felt so right that your hands snaked up to his jaw, cradling his face in the hope that he’d know you cared for him.

Simon returned your kiss equally as hungry, demanding the air you breathed from you, his embrace swallowing you, and you wanted to give it all to him. Your hands shook as you reached to slip them over the band of his sweats, still unsure if he’d reject you, or let you do it.

Cautiously, your hands slipped under his t-shirt first, his skin feeling like it was burning in comparison to your cold fingers, warm to the touch, and safe.

“I thought about you a lot.” You admitted between kisses. “Wanted to know what happened to you.”

Simon stilled at that, his gaze shifting, warping from one unreadable expression to another.

“Nothin’ good.” He replied finally. You felt like an idiot. Like you’d just ruined the moment.

“I’m sorry.” You said, because you had no idea what else to say. His hand found yours, and you felt like whatever was going to happen to you, it was going to be okay.

#simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon 'ghost' riley x you #cod: mwii #cod x reader #cod mw2 #ghost cod #ghost cod x reader #ghost cod x you

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five-thousand-loaves-of-bread · 10 months

Text

see more and more “entire life told/thought i high function but actually am just very high support need” (autism context) and get more and more annoy at that

everytime see everytime click into page and everytime realize by “very high support” (yes see multiple include the “very”) they mean comorbid anxiety depression cptsd trouble make friends because people think “weird” bullied lose speech need remind shower need remind things (but able do and if no remind after a while will do) trouble school trouble job etc am forget.

and all that hard struggle yes no deny. deserve all the help and am not say it easy.

but it not “very high support need.” not even “high support need.” have higher need than what nondisabled neurotypical society expect you to is not “high support need.” yes, know many people do this because want validate self and past and trauma. but. not need be high support to be valid or to receive support. not need be high support for past trauma & past neglect & past not get support to be valid.

and. it water down definition of “high support need.” kick actual high support need out. us who extra vulnerable because need physical help most or all bADLs. need constant 24/7 supervision to be alive to not accidental harm self or die. need medical services for stuff people (include these people) take for granted, like just be able communicate, walk (yes many high support need autistic people struggle with that even without specific physical disability dx), feeding, etc. no awareness of self or other people or surroundings or danger. need 24/7 behavioral support. experience explosive emotions that even terrify self self no understand and cannot control behavior so destructive. many very high support, if not get support they literally die. not exaggerate. that how high of support they need.

(and even debate about whether should write this list. because. unless you high support yourself or experience these same amount yourself or close to someone who is or give care for them, very high chance you not get degree of symptom am talk about. plenty autistic struggle emotional regulation, for example. some struggle with severe intense lose control explosive behavior, include some level 1s. but unless you experience it self or read lot lot lot lot about & by people who do, found that average person include average autism community person not know what am mean by explosive emotion.)

it not “gatekeeping” or “call fake.” it me get frustrate at people misuse medical term that used describe extremely vulnerable population, who rely on other people to keep basic alive, many us have trouble or have limited language communication or have none at all, we need keep medical term describe us because many us cannot explain cannot list you our support need, either because long or private or make us feel awful or literal no communication/intellectual ability.

by validate self you harming us. “well it just one person identify themself not affect you [eye roll].” no, not just one person. but even if just one person, people around them see, and think, oh, that high support need, that very high support need, am educated. and that spread. and actual high support need people like am describe are ignored people don’t think they exist.

please. talk about own experience. no matter “there people more struggle than me.” am not say cannot. am not say “look at these actual struggles yours mild shut up.” it autism spectrum, there spectrum of experience. there more than “no support need” vs “high support need.” there things in middle. even low support need—that just mean low compare to other autistics. not “your support need your trauma not important.”

but please. remember us. leave our terms alone.

#actually autistic #actuallyautustic #high support need #loaf screm

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stealingyourbones · 1 year

Note

*slowly shuffles a wooden box of finger bones towards you* so I have two ideas for you

So, what if ghosts like, really screw with video technology, so it all kind of looks corrupted at all times- so when Danny starts recording like a blog of daily like in amity park (maybe as a way to cope with Trauma) and he posts it, maybe people outside of amity could think it’s all just like, an ARG or analog horror- if you want to go with dc/dp here, tim could be trying to solve a nonexistent mystery

For idea two, do you know ab the mystery flesh pit? If you don’t it’s basically an unreality where a gigantic super organism is turned into a National park and it’s then shit down when the organism basically coughs in its sleep and destroys a lot of stuff-( also be warned, there is a lot of body horror involved in this, so if anyone’s sensitive to it maybe don’t look at any content!) so maybe Giant Danny is taking a nap and some villains find the GIANT GHOST TAKING A SLEEP and decide to hook him up to be used as like, a battery or Lazerus pit (if you go the route of his blood being lazerus water) and the heroes get involved trying to figure out what’s happening

oh man that would be so fun. Danny just takes a little school project 10 minute documentary of the town and doesn't think too much of it when he submits it to Youtube so he can send it to his teacher.

A week later and every ARG/Analog Horror nerd on the planet has heard about this brilliantly well produced video called "Amity Park"

Now knowing this, He decides to have some fun. He takes ominous shots of mundane Amity life and splices them between the more normal scenes of himself and his friends having fun and hanging out.

He amps up the uncanny level. Throughout all of his videos, he starts to tell a slightly dramatized version of his life, not the Phantom stuff, but his life as a Fenton.

The whole world watches in awe and delight as this refreshingly new Analog Horror channel posts nearly twice a week with some of the most stunning CGI that they've ever seen. I mean 'c'mon, Sentient food. A child living in the house of two mad scientists who casually mention dismembering and destroying ghosts at the dinner table. An honest to god crazy scientist lab with a massive portal to this 'Ghost Zone' just in their basement?! Yeah, whoever made this has an absolutely incredible imagination. (Some people are even dissing it since this GZ really just feels like a warped version of The Backrooms but it's fine, it's unique enough that it makes up for it.)

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I am a hoe for any and every topic that Wendigoon talks about in his videos so I very much so know about the Mystery Flesh Pit. (Video is linked but be warned; Benji isn't joking when they say that it's a LOT of body horror.)

I'd like to propose that Danny isn't even on earth, he's on a different planet that has collected his blood and harnessed his core for energy on a massive scale, helping create and produce items that benefit their world greatly.

To Danny, Their mining, harvesting, and energy draining efforts are the equivalent to bacteria moving around his body. He's so massive that this civilization isnt impacting him in the slightest.

The JL get called because this strange planet superorganism is now moving and it's causing the destruction of an entire civilization.

They fly over to the planet and they notice something very very wrong with the shape of the planet.

First and foremost, the two eyes spanning the equivalent width of Texas that stares up at their ship is new.

#sorry if this makes no sense yall im so tired #danny phantom #dp x dc #dc comics #writing prompts #dpxdc #dp x dc prompt #bones replies #benjis-art-and-reblogs #homie i could kiss you ty for somehow mentioning my favorite ARG/funky worldbuilding work of all time

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