#oxygen debt

[furnituremontana]

#the neighbourhood #long ride #oxygen debt #grizzly bear #headwind #solo riding #cumulative fatigue #half way #half way there #you're on your own

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 30 || The Breakdown

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, & semi-heavy angst.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 3.7k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——FREEZING COLD AIR slaps against the exposed skin of your body as the man carries you outside.

The exposure to such a sudden chill made your arms tighten around his neck, holding onto him so desperately even as you both continued to kiss.

Gojo's hands were warm against the underside of your thighs, holding you carefully whilst he walked with you. Your back soon made contact with the cold exterior of his car for a moment, the contact making you gasp and shiver within Gojo's grasp.

A hand left your leg for a moment and you felt your body shifting around in his arms. The man held you up with one arm, still kissing you fervently, as his other hand worked to open his car door.

You were inside the backseat of Gojo's car before you even realized it, letting out soft hums into his mouth as he made out with you.

You didn't even hear him shut the door behind you, so consumed with the way he kissed you like there was no tomorrow.

Groan after groan left his lips, the sound flowing right into your parted ones. His tongue was warm and wet over yours, both of your breaths shared in heavy pants against each other as the kissing progressed.

Gojo was on top of you, his sounds fading from groans to moans as he completely lost himself in the feel of you. And you took in every second of it, tasting the mint that's always on his tongue, savoring the soft moisture of his lips slipping over yours again and again.

When he finally breaks the kiss, it's only for a second, a heavy string of saliva hanging in between the two of your lips.

Gojo croaks out your name, his voice husked and lost with emotion, "I love you," He whines, his voice strained as he struggles to catch his breath, "Love' everything about you. Your face, your voice, your kisses, your touches, anything and everything that's you-- I love it, I love you."

You pant heavily, trying to figure out what to make of his confession. "S-Satoru, I-"

"If you're in love with my kisses," Gojo whispers, lowering himself to you once more. His lips brush over yours as he speaks, "Then I serve no other purpose than to do just that."

His lips, so wet and so damn soft, like pillows you'd love to lay your head on, they simply mold into yours yet again. You can feel his heartbeat pounding in his chest against your own, his body flush with yours in the back seat of his car.

You move your lips over his, slotting his lower lip in between your teeth and clasping it hard enough for him to whine completely unashamed.

With low-lidded eyes, "Satoru," You utter as you release his lip, "You can't just-"

"I need to," He whimpers, his voice cracking suddenly.

Air gets caught in your throat, "W-What?"

Your eyes fully open and you take in his expression completely.

Gojo's face was completely flushed, bright red and pink decorating his cheeks. His breaths came out so heavy, so shaky. You watch the way he inhales, hearing the sniffle that suddenly follows that last slip of oxygen into his lungs.

Your hands go to his face, cupping his cheeks in your palms, "Look at me," You whisper, your brows furrowed in reaction to the pure distress on his face.

He doesn't, he refuses to, keeping his gaze low and not wanting to lift them to yours. Gojo shakes his head and his voice is so small, "I c-can't..."

"What's wrong?" You whisper, "I don't understand, w-why are you so... emotional all of a sudden?"

"You said..." He takes a moment to get it out, trying to keep himself together, "Y-You said you loved the way I kiss you so, I just want to keep doing that."

"You can't kiss me forever just because I love that about you."

"Yeah I can," He argues, smiling just barely, "Til' you tell me to stop... I just... I liked the way that f-felt. To hear you say you love something about me, it makes me... you make me whole, sweetheart."

"Satoru I don't understand."

"We're the same, y'know..." He suddenly says, his voice breaking again, "We both want someone so terribly bad but our situations prohibit us from getting that person."

"You could've prevented all this though..."

Gojo sniffles and you feel a drop of wetness slide down his cheek and slip against your palm. The man was crying? Why?

"S-Satoru?"

He finally raises his sights up to your eyes, that beautiful blue gaze of his clouded with water as tears soak his eyelashes and slip from his waterline. "I'm sorry," Gojo chokes out, his voice shattering under your gaze, "I'm s-so fucking sorry."

God damn the way your eyes grow teary at the sight. "W-Why are you apologizing? Satoru what's wrong, just talk to me-"

He sniffles and his expression breaks, he breaks, "I'm sorry for loving you, f-for doing this to you, I just..."

You're biting back your own tears as best as you can. Seeing this man so sad in front of you is heartbreaking. And to make it worse, you're just confused. Is it regret he's experiencing? Or is there something else?

Tears are streaming down his face, wetting up your hands. You open your mouth to get something out to the poor man but he's leaning in toward you again.

His eyes shut and his lips press against yours so delicately that it's almost as though the connection was never made. You move your hands to his chest and carefully push him off just a little bit.

"Kissing me isn't going to fix or explain anything, Satoru," You whisper, your voice running so gently into his ears.

Gojo keeps his eyes shut and you tilt your head at the man.

"Tell me what's wrong," You hum, "Please? I'm just confused right now and I want to understand you. W-Why are you crying-"

"Run away with me," Gojo suddenly voices out.

You stop talking, completely thrown off by his sudden offer.

You scoff, just barely, "What? Run away with you? Where? Why-"

"Anywhere." He says, his eyes lift to yours and you're met with the gaze of a broken man. "Just leave this city with me."

You give him a comforting yet confused little smile, "Satoru why would we just leave together? What are we running from-, no, what are you trying to run away from?"

"Everything," Gojo claims, "J-Just leave with me. We can forget the l-list, forget my debt, forget all our troubles, and i-it'll just be me and you."

"I... That's insane... What about the life I have here, hm?" You ask softly, your voice alone bringing him comfort. "My friends? My family?" Choso, though you don't say his name aloud.

He's quiet for a second, a long second-- a moment even. Gojo just looks at you, eyes dull and tired.

His mouth eventually opens but his lips are quivering. You watch the way his eyes gloss up again and you can feel the stress exuding off the man.

Gojo shuts his eyes, allowing his tears to flow again before dropping his head down into your chest. Finally, he just allows himself to break down.

"I'm sorry, i-ignore me," Gojo sobs into you, his voice is so heavy with emotion, so thick and choked up with his crying.

You've never seen a man cry like this before and you don't know what to think or do for a moment. Your hands are a little shaky but they eventually wrap around him, one stroking the back of his head and the other rubbing his upper back.

You can't say anything other than a sweet, "Shh, it's okay," To the man, having no idea what's going on in his mind or why he's crying.

Gojo shakes his head and he mumbles something into you, something you don't hear and you don't ask him to repeat.

A thousand questions are running through your head. You have no idea why a simple phrase such as 'I love the way you kiss me' had driven this man to this point. Where is this hurt coming from? What's really going on?

You know there are a lot of questions he avoids answering but amid it all, it's so clear that Gojo is going through a lot more than he lets on. How deep does his debt really go? What about it has stressed him to this point where he's crying into your chest and holding onto your smaller frame like you're the only thing keeping him together?

You wish you could understand it all. All it'd take is for him to explain some things to you, that's all you want.

Part of you hates how soft and sympathetic seeing him like this makes you-- as if he's not the same man who's explicitly expressed that he'd expose video evidence of you toying with yourself to the school and even threatened to ruin your life with the exposure of your acts done with Mr. Fushiguro.

Even with all that he's put you through, none of it matters when he's crying into you. Gojo's fingers are curled into the fabric of your dress, his knuckles gone white with how hard he's gripping onto you. His breathing is ragged at he's just letting his tears flow down onto you, releasing all that he's held in for god knows how long.

Every now and then, the man would croak out another broken and distressed 'I'm sorry', repeating the phrase like it's the only thing he knows how to say. You're stuck in a state of wondering if you should believe his apology.

Sure, he's crying and being completely vulnerable but an 'I'm sorry' isn't the 'you don't have to finish the list'. You're not looking for apologies, you crave freedom, and Gojo's yet to give you that.

So above all, his emotional breakdown does nothing more than confuse you to a new degree.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Gojo cried for maybe thirty minutes before he got a hold of himself. You felt awkward cooing soft words to him as he did so, saying things like 'it's okay' even though everything was far from okay.

When he stopped, your hand still rubbed the back of his head and you comforted him by running your nails through his white locks, weaving your fingers through it, and calming him down. His head had turned to the side, cheek pressed snuggly against your breast as his, now dull, blue eyes stared at the car seat.

He was resting on top of you but you didn't mind, his body felt warm against yours. Gojo's breathing took a while to calm down but when it finally did, the most you heard from him was a sniffle.

You didn't know what to say and neither did he so the two of you just lay there for quite some time.

Sounds of people walking by the car would be heard every now and then, muffled chatter and drunk laughter filling your ears.

Gojo's eyelids hung low after the crying he just did, his eyes puffy and red and his face flushed with emotion. He didn't want to look at you, he felt so ashamed of himself for breaking down in front of you, like he'd exposed a part of himself to you that he never intended to.

After some time of playing with his hair, you so sweetly called his name, "Satoru?"

The hum he lets out is low, tired, and beautifully deep, "Hmm?"

You lay your hand flat atop his head, "Are you okay?" You whisper.

Gojo swallows, "I'm jus' fine, sweetheart." He mumbles extremely low.

"You uh, you don't seem fine... at all," You point out.

Normally he'd smile at your concern but the man was so utterly drained that he couldn't even force one to his face. Gojo's expression remained void of anything, eyes almost lifeless, and the rest of his face completely drowned in sorrow.

"M'fine," He grumbles, "Ignore me."

Gojo then uncurls his fingers from your dress, his knuckles gone almost sore from how tightly he'd clung to you. His hands go to the seat of his car and lay flat against it, soon working to push his body up and off yours.

The movement allows a woosh of air to skim up along your body as you simply peer at Gojo with pure confusion and concern in your eyes.

He holds himself up but doesn't move away just yet, turning his head in the opposite direction and avoiding looking at you for even a second.

You stare up at Gojo's side profile, spotting the redness around his eyes, cheek, and nose and seeing the evidence of his cries. He looks so tired and lost above you, so much so that you instinctively reach a hand up to his cheek.

Gojo's dull eyes shut at the contact and he melts, no, dissolves into your touch, his cheek pressing into the palm of your hand and a heavy but shaky sigh leaving his lips.

"Satoru," You whisper, his eyes squeeze themselves closed even further as if that'll drown out your voice and he moves a hand over yours.

Gojo turns his face, finally facing you, but keeps his eyes shut. He tips to the side a little and kisses your palm softly, nearly desperate.

"You uh," His voice is husked, "You weren't ever supposed t'see me like this..." Gojo whispers, voice cracking slightly amid his words.

You frown, "Satoru-"

"Please," He begs, his eyes squeezing a bit more as his brows twist up almost in pain, "S-Stop saying my name like that..."

"Like what?" You ask.

He shakes his head, "I don't even know..."

Your thumb swipes under his eye, ridding his skin of the remnant tears, "What's going on inside that head of yours?" You whisper curiously, taking in his depressed appearance.

Gojo draws his lower lip into his mouth, biting back another breakdown. "A-A lot, sweets..." He murmurs, his eyes still shut.

Another one of your hands goes to his face and you pull him down to you slightly, completely cupping his moist face in your palms. "Talk to me," You requested in a sweet and comforting tone.

Gojo shakes his head to decline and your frowning furthers.

"Please? Or at least open your eyes and look at me." You hush out.

He swallows hard, "I can't..."

"Why?"

"M'ashamed, sweetheart." Gojo admits, "Never' wanted you to see me like this."

"There's no need to be ashamed, 'Toru," You nickname suddenly, the sound going straight to his heart, "You're human, it's okay to have feelings and be stressed."

He heaves out a shaky sigh, "I m-missed that-," He chokes, nearly breaking down all over again.

His eyes crack open but they don't meet your face, quickly glancing off to the side to avoid eye contact.

You grin, "Missed what? The nickname?"

"Mhm," He nods gently within your hold.

Your thumbs slide under his eyes and even up and slightly over his eyelashes, wiping all the wetness from his face with care.

"Don't get used to it 'Toru," You whisper teasingly.

For the first time in a while, he cracks a soft smile, "No promises, love."

His face gets closer to yours as you pull him down even more. Gojo has to shift himself so that he's propped up on his elbow but he still refuses to look at you.

You bring your lips up and kiss the tip of his nose, "Look at me."

He finally does, lazily dragging his dulled blue eyes over to meet your gaze. Gojo looks like he needs sleep more than anything, his eyes evident with sadness as redness coats the area that's typically white.

You give him a smile, "That's it," Your voice is low in a whisper, "Good boy."

Gojo sighs and he can't help the lazy smile that spreads across his face. A quiet weary sigh leaves his lips, "Did you just praise me?"

"I did." You say simply.

"Tryna' make me feel better?" Gojo asks with a raised brow.

You flash a sheepish smile, "Is it working?"

He shakes his head, "How am I not supposed to love you when you're like this?"

You furrow your brows and he goes on to explain.

"I'm treating you like shit and yet you go out of your way to make me smile jus' cause' I shed a few tears?" Gojo scoffs, "You're far too kind, y'know that?"

"Listen, I don't know why you cried like that or why you got so emotional and I have no hope of getting an explanation out of you but," You caress the side of his face and sigh, "I didn't like seeing you act so..." Your eyes narrow, "Distraught."

He swallows, "I'm sorry."

"I know you are." You hum, "Whenever you're ready to open up to me and tell me the truth about what's really going on, I'm all ears."

"I wish I could tell you," Gojo replies.

"Why can't you?"

"It'll make things worse."

"How?" You ask, so desperate for some kind of explanation.

He turns to kiss the palm of your hand, "You'd hate me a whole lot more."

You frown, "Satoru unless you've killed someone I love, I don't think anything could make me hate you any more than I already do."

He chuckles and rests his eyelids, "True but, I've already dug a hole for myself. I think it's about time I put the shovel down."

There he goes with explaining everything but what you need him to. What the hell are you supposed to make of his words?

"Right..." You sigh.

Gojo opens his eyes and then moves to sit up, resting on his heels as you too shift around.

"Can you forget this ever happened?" Gojo requests.

You chuckle, "Satoru, you just sobbed into my chest like a damn baby for half an hour, I can't just forget that."

He shrugs, almost playfully, "Sure you can-"

"You asked me to run away with you." You recall, "And you started breaking down from the moment I said I loved your kisses. I'm not gonna be able to stop thinking about that, let alone forget it."

Gojo swallows down the lump in his throat, "...I was just... I've been stressed lately and hearing you say that made me..." He shrugs, "I dunno, break?"

"No shit." You scoff, "But if you're not gonna open up to me and explain why you just broke down, then I'm not gonna forget this."

Gojo nods understandingly, silently agreeing with your words. It's only fair after all, he should be explaining himself right now but he can't.

With a long and heavy sigh, "When it's all over," Gojo begins, "Like, wayyy after it's all over, and I mean like years after, I... I'll tell you everything."

You blink, "I have to wait years for you to explain this to me??"

"I mean, only if you still care by then..." He mumbles.

You scoff lightly, "Whatever it is, it better be really important and mind-blowing."

Gojo shrugs, "It'll be up to you how you wanna interpret it."

Okay, whatever that means. You're unsure what to do with his claims. Years for an explanation? You have to wait years to understand why Gojo has tormented himself by blackmailing the woman he claims to love?

It sucks to be in this situation and you're simply dying to know what's truly going on. There are far too many questions and you idly wait for the day it'll all be revealed.

Until then, you guess you have to return your focus to the list. And then after that, you'll be off to Choso...

Right?

That's what you still want, right?

Surely the night you just spent with Gojo doesn't change anything... You're definitely not seeing Gojo any differently, right?

Okay well, maybe you can feel your hatred for him fading. Only a little bit though, he's still blackmailing you after all.

But, he does spoil you and his full confession has left a lasting impression on you. You're not sure if the bar is low or high at this point. If you don't hate Gojo anymore then what's become of your standards?

You tried to act like his tears and emotional breakdown don't change anything but it does-- there's no way someone who was so hellbent on exposing you just confessed his unwavering love for you and then sobbed in your arms after you told him you loved one thing about him.

You gave Gojo a glimpse of reciprocation and he became so utterly vulnerable, revealing to you just how weak you actually make him. That effect you have on him is dangerous, too dangerous. There is too much missing information to the situation for you to easily continue hating the man.

A true asshole would not act like how Gojo just did.

These thoughts pester you for the remainder of the list, questions swirling through your mind at any given moment.

So much so that you nearly forgot that you have to meet with Sukuna next week. Then, after him, you'll have to wait another week to meet Nanami. And who knows how long it'll take you to actually seduce Nanami...

But after all that's done, Gojo promised to get you with Choso. And that's exactly what you think you want but now you're conflicted.

Would knowing the truth about what's really going on with Gojo change your feelings for him-

Okay, what the hell is wrong with you?

Have you lost your mind?

Did you really forget who the hell you're dealing with??

Gojo Satoru has threatened you multiple times into doing things you wouldn't normally do. That man has made it very clear that you're nothing more than a tool for him to use, did you truly forget??

He probably just had that outburst to distract you...

Right?

...

Okay, you're conflicted beyond control.

Do you really hate Gojo? Is he just fucking with you? Were the tears fake?

There's too much to think about and none of it will be explained to you any time soon...

GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ITADORI SUKUNA ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???

NANAMI KENTO ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: ???

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

#the f*ck list #the fuck list #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo x reader #choso x reader #toji x reader #nanami x reader #sukuna x reader #naoya x reader #geto x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #nanami kento x reader #choso kamo x reader #kamiverse #kamiversee #smut fic #jjk smut #gojo smut #geto smut #choso smut #toji smut

[d10nyx]

paint the town red

ft. pyramid head x fem!reader

cw: 18+ content, dead dove, snuff(i think it counts for written work idk), big size difference, stalking, murder, physical injury, heavy non-con, gore, blood, violence, p in v, monster fucking

a/n: i'm so nervous to post this idek why 😭😭 um it's very dd:dne so proceed with caution! i lost followers after the cannibalism fic lets see if it happens again lmao

word count: 1k words

You've been running for so long that your lungs burn. In the distance, the loud screeching of the metal of that creature’s weapon grating along the concrete is the only thing letting you know he’s still hot on your tail. There's a heavy thumping of footfalls as he follows you, seemingly aware of every move you make. No matter how fast you run, he always seems to be close by, never faltering in his chase.

The fog is endless. The air is thick and starved of oxygen, making it harder to breathe and worsening your fatigue as you try to escape. You should be thankful for the creature's noise, as you can barely see two feet in front of you. You'd been drawn to this town, and now it would not let you go. Not until you had paid your debts - it appeared the Executioner himself would be the one to claim the price.

One wrong turn was all it took. It was so easy to get turned around in the fog, and you find yourself growing uneasy as an eerie silence settles around you. You can feel his presence, even if you can no longer hear him. There's an unmistakable terror that rises within you when he's nearby, like your subconscious can sense him even when there's no sign of him. The heavy thuds of his footsteps stop, and your steps falter as you try and figure out where to go next.

You didn't get the chance to make that decision.

You hear the familiar screech of his blade dragging along the floor right behind you, but before you can run, a strong arm settles around your waist, dragging you back against the hulking figure. He doesn't speak as he grabs hold of you, but you can hear the heavy breaths coming from underneath his large, triangular helmet.

You try your best to fight your way out. No matter what you do, he doesn't flinch. His breathing doesn't change. There's not a single sign that you're even hurting the thing. You kick back against his legs, hard enough that if he was human, his knees would give out. You claw, scratch, punch…

Nothing works.

He drops his weapon, and you don't stop panicking. He's no less intimidating without it - his hulking figure is a looming presence over you, and you're sure that he could snap every bone in your body without even trying. You scream as loud as you can, your throat turning scratchy and your ears ringing at the sound.

It doesn't matter. Nobody's coming to help you, and the creature only gets more excited by your torment. When you feel the evidence of his excitement, your blood runs cold.

You can feel his hardening cock pressing against your back, and you know any attempt to fuck you would kill you. It was long, and probably thicker than your forearm. You beg for him to let you go, plead until your voice grows weak. It just watches with sick satisfaction, waiting for the moment you give up and go limp in his arms.

In one fluid motion, he's got you pinned to the floor. His hand is harsh against the back of your head, slamming you hard enough against the ground that your nose breaks, blood pouring out steadily. You scream in agony, and the thing behind you lets out a pleased grunt, reaching under his bloodied apron to free his cock.

It ignores you as you beg for him to stop - to just kill you. His large hand rips right through your jeans and panties, leaving just enough access for him to push inside of you. It grows increasingly frustrated as any attempts at entry fail, eventually deciding to stop playing ‘nice’ and just thrusting his hips forward as hard as he can, tearing right through you.

Your throat is raw from how much you're screaming, your fingers clawing helplessly at the concrete below you. Your thighs are coated in a wet substance, which you vaguely register must be your own blood.

You're sure you're going to pass out soon. The pain has your body going numb, your body growing slack underneath him as he begins to thrust. Your mind tries to go somewhere else, but it's impossible to ignore the intrusion. Your stomach bulges grotesquely, the outline of the monster's cock visible even as he pulls back before slamming back in.

Your pulse weakens as he forces himself further inside, thrusting as deep as he can manage. You're barely conscious, bleeding and drooling all over the concrete beneath you. His thrusts falter slightly, and you feel a flicker of hope that this would all finally end.

Hope that is quickly ripped from you as soon as he grips your neck from behind, his hand squeezing your throat and cutting off all your oxygen. Good things don't survive in Silent Hill, and you should have known your brief respite wouldn't last. You raise your hands to try and pry him away from you, but it's no use. He's too strong, and you're too weak, only seconds away from passing out.

His thrusts resume, knocking you forward jnti his vice-like grip on your throat. You hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye to your family. No one would know where to look for you - you'd just become another body lost to the horrors of this town.

Your chest heaves as you struggle to take in breaths. Your body consorts unnaturally as he starts to tug you back into his thrusts, a sickening crunch echoing in the air before he drops you back to the ground, your lifeless body thudding against the concrete.

The pain finally stops, the release of death smothering you like a warm blanket. The Executioner peels away from you, your blood joining the other victims’ on his apron. His punishment has been delivered, and he returns to stalking the town of Silent Hill, his knife dragging along the floor with that sickening sound echoing through the fog.

#dead dove do not eat #dark content #pyramid head #pyramid head smut #pyramid head x reader #pyramid head x you #red pyramid thing #silent hill smut

[anexperimentallife]

Interracial US family w/ disabled autistic dad and toddler needs to get to the US for medical treatment

(New post because the old one was getting LONG with the updates. Details are under the "read more" to save your dash, with updates in the notes.)

TL;DR: If I'm going to live long enough to watch our daughter grow up, we need to get back to the US and get set up in a disability-friendly place where I can use my medical benefits.

Although I was already disabled (autism, adhd, and spine, joint, and head injuries), my health was stable--until four bouts of COVID left me immunocompromised, and utterly destroyed my health (including damage to my heart, blood clots that damaged one eye, neurological and joint issues, etc.), and although we started off fine, we've been hammered with one crisis after another, both medical and financial, that no one could have predicted.

Until we have enough to get back to the US, a chunk of whatever comes in has to go towards medical care that can't be put off, so the sooner we can reach critical mass on that, the better.

If you can help, or reblog, or share the links on other platforms, we'd be grateful!

The "Donate to Little or None" Paypal donation link takes the lowest fees, I think. (Kept the same link from when we were fighting to get our daughter's birth certificate fixed so we could get her citizenship affirmed.)

Then there's Ko-Fi:

And my little sister started a GoFundMe for us!

EDIT: The donation links above still work, but I removed the GoFundMe link.

IF YOU WANT ALL THE DETAILS SEE THE "READ MORE."

(There's more in my "rob gets medical" tag if you want a blow by blow account of how we got to this point over the past few years, but this is the gist.)

HOW IT STARTED:

I moved to the Philippines six years ago, after the deaths of my adult sons, in part to make my disability payments stretch further. Shortly afterwards, I was joined by my now-wife @thesurestthing (also from the US) for what was supposed to be a visit, but which turned into a permanent arrangement.

After I got a contract to license an old story for a mobile game (which tripled our income*), we found out we were having a baby, which was fine, because despite my disabilities (autism, adhd, two spine injuries, traumatic brain injury, a herniated esophagus, joint issues, etc.), my health was stable, and thanks to the contract, we were fine financially as well.

HOW IT STARTED GOING DOWNHILL:

Zoey's pregnancy was complicated, requiring two hospitalizations, and our daughter's birth was complicated, too--requiring a C-Section--which tripled our hospital bill. A few weeks after our daughter was born, the aforementioned contract was canceled without warning. THEN, when we tried to register our daughter's birth with the US embassy, we discovered an error on her birth certificate that left her stateless, and which took nearly two years, all our savings, and a fundraiser (thank you, generous people!) to resolve. Combined with medical expenses, that left us in a lot of debt.

A brief summary of went else wrong (leaving a lot out for brevity's sake):

I got COVID three four times during all this, became immunocompromised, and developed a slew of other medical issues (heart damage, eye damage and temporary facial paralysis from blood clots, persistent infections, a worsening of my joint issues, neurological issues, etc.) as a result of Long Covid.

I've had to be hospitalized a couple of times, undergo surgery, and was on an oxygen machine twice--once for an entire month, while I was bedridden. As of 24 January, 2024, I'm still recovering from my fourth bout of covid, which started at the beginning of October 2023.

There's a lot more, but you get the idea. COVID has completely wrecked my health, including tearing up my immune system.

And yes, I'm as fully vaxxed against COVID as one can be in the Philippines, with all available boosters, but again--I'm immunocompromised, plus they don't have the vax for the newest variant here yet. Zoey is vaxxed, also, and as a result, her bout with covid was extremely mild. El isn't vaxxed yet because they won't give the covid vaccine to kids under five here, but she's been able to share Zoey's antibodies from breast-feeding--which is apparently a thing.

The only way we can see for me to stay alive long enough to watch Eleanor grow up is to get back to where I can use my Medicare and VA benefits**.

WHY SO MUCH MONEY?

First, while we're still here, we need to pay for whatever medical care can't be put off. Plus, since I'm now immunocompromised, we have to get LOTS of vaccinations before we have to spend 24 hours or so in crowded planes and airports.

Second, we're going to be arriving with only what we can carry with us on the plane, and we'll need to get into a place near a VA hospital that I can easily get around in while I'm recovering from surgeries and getting various treatments. We'll need to pick up some secondhand household goods, and some kind of used transportation (because, you know, it's the US, where you kind of need a vehicle to get around).

We'll also need enough on top of my and El's disability payments to get by for a couple of months while Zoey looks for work. And all this is while we're still paying off the debt from the stuff I mentioned above.

So we're figuring that unless we catch some very lucky breaks, it'll probably cost between 20K and 36K altogether.

(We can't simply stay with friends when we get back, because literally every single close friend we have in the US with extra room and who lives close to a VA hospital has cats--to which I have a severe anaphylactic reaction. As in my entire respiratory system shuts down, and I have to be rushed to the ER to keep from dying; this has happened more than once. The only way I can be around cats is if I'm on immunosuppressants, and my immune system is ALREADY compromised, so I CAN'T do that.)

So again, if you can kick in, or reblog, or post our crowdfunding links (or the link to this post) on whatever other platforms you use, we'd appreciate it.

(*When I told social security about it, they said I could keep getting disability, too, because licensing IP rights didn't count as work income, and since it was a Moldavian company, it also fell under a special tax clause for getting paid by a foreign company while living overseas, so no taxes on it, either. )

(**VA benefits--I was a cold warrior in 1980s Germany. It was less than forty years after WWII, there was a lot of sabre-rattling--some of it nuclear--and we were there as a deterrent to prevent in Germany the kind of thing that's happening in Ukraine right now. Disclaimer because I'm tired of people accusing me of "invading" folks in the early 1980s when I was a dumb, heavily propagandized pre-Internet kid fixing generators in Europe. I wouldn't join today even if I could.)

#rob gets medical #mutual aid #medical fundraiser #long covid #repatriation #my face #baby el #zoey

[cooliestghouliest]

THE MIDDLE BEDROOM

PAIRING: established Billy/Reader relationship, bff!Eddie is a Peeping Tom

TAGS and C/W’s: this is basically just smut (which means 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), pining undertones, oral (f!receiving), Billy's filthy mouth, SPIT, Eddie's a pervert but Billy's kinda setting him up so really Eddie is just advantageous, m!masturbation, unprotected PiV

WORD COUNT: 3.4k+

A/N: hi, my friends!!! this is a rewrite/repost and has been edited for a (hopefully) smoother, more enjoyable read. basically, i’m trying to revamp everything i’ve published in hopes that an inspiration bug crawls deep, deep inside me and just fucking explodes, leaving only creativity and motivation to replace all of my blood and oxygen. it’s almost 2024, who needs to bleed and breathe anyway??? please remember that likes are greatly appreciated, but comments and reblogs are what make the writer’s world go round. :-) <33

—

It happened at Rick Lipton's annual Halloween party. '86, baby.

There were many nameless faces wandering about the bungalow, all in varying states of sobriety. Eddie only recognized a handful of people, one of them being Billy Hargrove... and the other being you, Eddie's best friend, but also Hargrove's drop-dead, knock-the-fuck-out gorgeous girlfriend.

Eddie had overheard someone guess that you were dressed as a witch. Someone else guessed that you were dressed as Stevie Nicks. With a shrug, you'd answered, "Those are the same thing," like it was the most obvious certainty in the entire world.

You were in a sheer black off-the-shoulder maxi dress, the form-fitting fabric tight in all the right places. There was a long, gracious slit down the side that ran from hip to foot. When you moved in a certain way, Eddie could see that you were wearing black suede thigh-high boots, a little kitten heel clicking against the hardwood floors as you walked.

Right up to him.

"Hi, Eddie," you'd greeted with a smile, eyes wide and welcoming. You swirled the train of your dress a bit, swaying along to some Joni Mitchell song playing in the background. "Happy Halloween."

Eddie didn't get the chance to answer, though he was sure he'd have ended up stumbling over his words anyway, because you just looked so pretty tonight. He was only able to return the smile before Billy appeared beside you.

"Hey, man," Hargrove prompted, Eddie watching as the honey blonde rested lucky fingers on the small of your back. The other palm extended to clap Eddie on the shoulder a few times. "You bring it?"

"Yeah, it's just... uh..." Eddie dug his hand around in the front pockets of his jeans, then in the back pockets of his jeans, then eventually found what he was looking for in the pocket of his denim jacket, bypassing a broken button to reach for the little baggie in question.

As he was about to pull it out, Billy’s hand gripped his forearm, halting him. "Not here," Hargrove instructed. He stepped an inch closer to Eddie, voice lowering to just above a whisper. Eddie had to dip his head forward to try and hear the blonde over the music and commotion around them. "Come upstairs. Like fifteen minutes. Middle bedroom." At Eddie's confused expression (they were at a Halloween party thrown by Hawkins' most profitable drug dealer, for fuck's sake -- who the hell would care about a little coke?), Billy fashioned him a grin, stepping back. "Don't need everybody knowing my business and shit, ya know?"

Eddie guessed that was a decent enough explanation, so he shrugged the absurdity off. He'd always thought Billy was a little weird, anyway. And coming from Eddie Munson, the biggest fucking weirdo of all, that characterization spoke volumes.

After that, you and Billy disappeared. Eddie had followed the tail-end of your dress until you were lost in a sea of strangers, then decided to try and push the rest of the weed he had onto other partygoers, wanting to leave tonight with his current debt to Rick paid and his lunch box full of fresh goodies for the new month ahead.

It was exactly fifteen minutes later that Eddie began his ascent of the stairs to Rick's second floor. He weaved in and out of groping couples, stepped over sleeping Lettermen, and gave a tight-lipped smile to a group of girls that stumbled out of the bathroom and slammed right into him. He stepped to the side, giving them the right of way, before crossing the hallway to his destination: the middle bedroom.

The door was shut, so Eddie knocked. Waited a few seconds, then knocked again.

Still with no answer, he took a large step back, surveying the other doors around him to verify he hadn't gotten turned around and was in fact standing in front of the right room, which he was.

Eddie huffed a sigh. He glanced around the hallway again, checking to see if maybe Hargrove was just running late, but there was no blonde mullet in sight.

Figuring Billy must have been inside and was just... busy or something (actively ignoring him? suddenly gone deaf?), Eddie brought his hand to the knob to twist it and enter.

The room was mostly dark. Not exactly pitch black, thanks to a streetlight seen through the big bay window, but still dark enough that Eddie needed to blink rapidly several times to adjust his eyes to the new lighting.

His immediate thought was that Billy must have either forgotten to meet him up here or had ditched the party entirely and left the dealer packing with a now homeless dimebag of blow.

Off to the right, however, was a thick slab of pale-yellow light emanating from a partially closed door. It was the bathroom, which Eddie knew from sleeping in this very bedroom more than a handful of times since first meeting Rick Lipton a few years back.

And that’s when Eddie started to hear it.

Or, as he would soon come to find out, hear you.

He had at first mistaken the quick, soft breaths of air for sounds of pain or distress, which was why he'd begun inching towards the bathroom in the first place.

But now, standing in the shadow of the ajar door, he was able to peek inside. At the sight before him, Eddie felt his eyes widen, and a prickling warmth started to spread throughout his body.

Those were definitely not sounds of pain or distress.

Billy sat kneeled in front of where you were currently spread out on the bathroom counter. Your knees were hiked up towards your chest, your dress laying in a heap on the ground, and you were left only in a bright red bra. And those goddamn suede thigh-highs.

He should have walked away right then, he knew that. He was going to, really, but then you arched your back, your head falling lax behind you, and the fucking obscene moan you let out had Eddie biting down so hard on his bottom lip that he tasted blood.

How was he supposed to leave now?

He couldn't help himself.

You were just... you.

Thoughtful, generous, creative. You went out of your way to ensure no one ever felt judged or left out; you were known to drop everything without debate in order to help anyone who really needed it; you let him host Hellfire in your basement when the club needed a new location in a pinch, and even helped him plot twists in his campaigns.

Truly, Eddie had a very hard time seeing what you saw in that prick Billy Hargrove, but that was something to ponder at a later point. Because right now, Eddie was getting to see you in a position he'd only ever dreamed of seeing you in.

When would he ever get this chance again?

Eddie refused to think too deeply into this, deciding to pretend he didn't have a moral compass for a bit. It was probably bad. Likely even made him a pervert, but he'd been called much worse, so he figured he'd just add this one to the list now, too.

He wasn't exactly sure how he was going to be able to face either one of you again, but his feet just weren't working when his brain tried to tell them to move, and now his cock was starting to fill out the confines of his jeans in a way that had him seeking the relief of the doorframe, his hips acting of their own accord, finding a slow, rocking rhythm.

Billy had his palms splayed out on either side of your inner thighs, holding your legs open. Eddie quickly grew irritated that he couldn't see exactly what the blonde's tongue was doing. He thought that if he couldn't be the one with his own face buried against you, he wanted to at least have an unobstructed, close-up view.

He wanted to see Hargrove's lips wet with your slick, wanted to watch them wrap around your aching clit and suck until you tried to push him away. If Eddie could, he'd hold your arms down while Billy devoured you, wanting you to feel so much pleasure it was borderline painful.

He was pulled out of his fantasy by the sound of Billy's voice, raspy and teasing. "Love when you give me this sloppy fucking cunt," he said, the words themselves demeaning but his tone singing nothing but praises. Billy lowered his head back down, giving you a few long, loud licks.

Eddie knew he himself could be theatrical, but Billy Hargrove was dramatic in his own ways, and it did certainly seem like the blonde loved to hear the sound of his own voice. Apparently, eating pussy and its associated noises fell under this umbrella of Hargrove Histrionics.

Billy pulled his head back to spit several times on your well-loved cunt. Eddie didn't dare to blink as the other man brought two fingers to spread your lips and spit again, this time with your hardened nub as target. Both him and Billy watched intently as the saliva dripped slowly down your slit, past your empty hole, and leaked off of you entirely to darken an already present wet spot on Hargrove's blue jeans.

And fuck, you loved it.

With each assault of Billy's spit, you let out faint little gasps (fucking cute, Eddie had thought), body jolting at the contact, your eyes fluttering open and shut as the moisture filled in every curve of your core.

"So fucking messy, aren't you?" Billy taunted, his free hand moving to palm at his clothed length. Eddie was relieved to see Hargrove finally begin to touch himself, honestly impressed at the self-control the blonde had to disregard his pleasure and focus solely on yours. "Makes it feel so good when I finally fuck this thick cock inside you," he continued, unzipping his jeans as he stood. "You think this pussy's ready to soak me?"

Eddie felt like his skin was boiling. He wished he could eliminate some layers. Or all layers, preferably.

You were staring earnestly up at your boyfriend, a desperate pout on your face as you nodded in vigor. "Please, Billy," you begged, and Eddie couldn't take it any longer. He needed to fist his cock raw, having had enough of this grinding against the wall bullshit.

At the same time Billy dropped his jeans, Eddie did the same, pulling himself out of his boxer briefs. He muffled a groan of relief by biting down on the knuckles of his free hand, his other wrapping around the girth of his dick and just squeezing. He didn’t want to give in before Billy had gotten inside you.

The blonde sure was taking his sweet fucking time though, only wetting his length by sliding himself repeatedly between your lips. You were whining, and Eddie could tell you were trying to angle your hips in such a way that it would trip Billy up and he would slip inside. Good girl, get that fucking cock, Eddie thought, impatient and eager to cum, but not wanting to do so without first catching a glimpse at what you looked like stuffed and fucked full.

"Hmm, I dunno," Billy provoked, tapping his cock against your cunt with loud slaps. "Feels really good just like this, baby. Maybe I'll use the outside to fuck myself instead, cum all over this pretty little pussy, make an even bigger mess. You want that?"

You and Eddie both shook your heads at the same time.

You gave a grumble of annoyance (more of like a testy whimper, really) and brought a hand up to slap playfully at Billy's chest. "Fuck me, Billy," you demanded, your voice throaty and yearning. You dropped the hand at his chest to circle his cock, wrapping delicate fingers around his own and helping to stroke. "Need it inside."

"Oh, you need it, greedy girl?" It appeared he was going to listen to you, much to yours and Eddie's respite, because he lined himself up against your hole with one hand, the other moving to wrap around the nape of your neck. "I didn't know that. I gotta give my girl what she needs then. Can't have anyone thinking I don't take care of you."

Finally -- finally -- Eddie watched as Billy took one thrust to bury his cock inside you completely, the blonde releasing a loud, lewd moan. Eddie gave his own throbbing, sweat-slick length the same treatment, fucking into his fist from tip to base until he felt his tightening balls press against his twitching fingers.

You looked better stretched open than Eddie could have ever imagined -- a natural flush glowed on your skin, your bottom lip tugged tight between your upper teeth, your brows furrowed deep.

Your eyes rolled back as Billy began to move, a satisfied moan escaping your lips at the pace he was setting. The sound, contented yet desperate, was music to Eddie's ears. He wanted to record it and hear it on loop -- as a wake-up call, an afternoon pick-me-up, a bedtime lullaby.

Your hands moved to rest on either side of the surface of the sink below you, supporting your weight as Billy rocked into you with long, languid thrusts. Eddie tried to match Hargrove's pace with the stroke of his hand, envisioning it was his own cock giving you exactly what you needed.

You must have felt fucking good to be buried deep inside of, because Billy, always with something to say, was awfully quiet now.

He watched the other man's face through the reflection in the mirror, saw as Billy's baby blues fervently took in the sight underneath him, knowing he himself would be donning the same expression if positions were switched. Eddie knew Hargrove was admiring your perfect tits bouncing with the force of each thrust, knew he was lost in the dissipated doe-eyes that stared back up at him like he hung the fucking moon, when in reality he was just feeding your cunt some very well-deserved cock.

When your mouth dropped open unprompted, your pink tongue sticking out as far as it could go, that was the beginning of the end for Eddie. Both men knew exactly what you were asking for. Hargrove smirked approvingly at the sight before him, and he slowed the speed of his hips for better accuracy. He gathered as much saliva in his mouth as he could before leaning over you, parting his lips and letting gravity do its job.

Once your mouth was filled, Billy brought a hand to your jaw, forcing it shut. "Don't swallow," he instructed, his thrusts no longer slow and unhurried, but now posthaste and unrelenting.

Eddie could feel the familiar tingle in his lower abdomen, alerting him that his release was maybe a minute away. He fleetingly realized that he was going to have to very quickly clean his upcoming mess and get the hell out of the room before he was caught, but his attention was reeled back in when he heard a series of deep, breathless grunts.

"Okay, shit... spit it out now, baby," Billy was muttering, speech rushed, his head dipped to stare unwaveringly at where your bodies connected. "Oh fuck, spit on my fucking cock."

Eddie watched as you leaned yourself forward, angling your head down to release the spit you'd been holding in from your mouth, just adding to the noisy wetness between your legs.

And that did it. The visual — someone as soft and sweet as you doing something so filthy — had Eddie's toes curling in on themselves in his gym shoes, his hand pulsating around his cock to mimic a clenching cunt as he fucked himself into it. His release spilled out over his fist, dampening the ground below him and the bathroom doorframe. He saw stars.

Billy had followed Eddie right off the brink, muttering praises and obscenities interchangeably as you both came down from your highs. "Listen so well, dirty fucking girl. Always make me cum so hard, fuck, this pussy's so fucking full of me right now."

The sound of the quiet giggles urged out of you by Billy's tickling kisses on your neck were what brought Eddie back to the present reality. He wasn't back at home watching the hottest fucking porno he'd ever seen -- no, he was actually standing in a dimly lit bedroom, covered in his own cum, having just spied on his best friend while she got railed by her boyfriend.

Shit.

Eddie's moral compass came back with a vengeance. He cringed as he rubbed his sticky fingers on the inside of his band tee to clean them, not wanting anyone to catch a glimpse of crusty white as he made his getaway. He found a towel in a laundry basket and wiped away any remnants of his release from the wall and floor, then tossed it back into the hamper.

Not even able to glance back into the bathroom, his skin now heated from shame and embarrassment rather than arousal, Eddie buttoned up his jeans and hurried out of the room, ready to try and forget that all of that just happened.

About ten minutes later, he was perched against his van about a block from Rick's, where he'd parked. He was smoking a cigarette, having finally began to cool off and calm down. If he tried hard enough, he was sure he could convince himself this was all a really vivid hallucination, and maybe he'd be able to compartmentalize his moment of perversion that way.

He just needed to stay away from the two of you for a little while.

But then, because of course...

"Munson!"

Eddie quietly groaned, taking a deep drag off his cigarette to quell his already rapidly growing nerves from just the sound of the other man's voice alone. He turned to face Billy, plastering what he hoped was an easygoing grin on his face.

"Hey, man," Eddie greeted, his voice surprisingly steady.

Billy held his hands up in a 'What the fuck?' kind of way, brows furrowed. "Thought we had a plan," the blonde replied, stopping just a foot away from the tall metalhead. One side of Hargrove's mouth lifted. He looked predatory. Eddie fought back a hard swallow. "Did you even come upstairs?"

"What..." Eddie's brain went blank at the question. Or was it an accusation? It definitely sounded like one, but Billy didn't seem mad. The blonde was just staring at him expectantly, waiting for an answer.

"Y'know," Billy continued. "Because I told you to meet me in the middle bedroom? For the coke?" What had started as the slight of a smirk had turned into a full-blown grin on Hargrove's face. "You good, Munson? Lookin' a little spooked.”

To this, Eddie sobered his expression, shaking his head. "No, just like, busy night, that's all," Eddie answered lamely. Maybe Billy really didn't know. Maybe Eddie was just hyper-paranoid about having been caught that he was reading too deeply into this. After all, wouldn't Hargrove have been pissed to find out he'd been spying? Wouldn't he already have Eddie pinned against the van, spewing threats? "Lotsa deals. Kinda forgot about yours, my bad. Here, lemme get it..."

Eddie began digging around in his pockets, having forgotten again where the coke was. He blamed the alarms of anxiety going off in his brain (thoughts like fuck, he probably knows, which means she knows, and now she's gonna fucking hate me plaguing him).

But Billy said, "Don't worry about it, I'm good. Got my energy hit a little bit ago." The blonde then looked like he had remembered something, and began looking in his own pockets, "Shit, actually. Ya know what? I have something for you."

Eddie was sure the look of confusion on his face was readable. This whole night was turning out to be a fucking fever dream. He didn't think anything else could happen to make it any more surreal.

And then Billy was reaching his hand out to give Eddie something, that I-know-something-you-don't smirk present again, and Eddie took it without looking. He just wanted Billy to walk away so he could go crawl into the back of his van and smoke himself stupid to avoid any and all realizations and repercussions.

"See you ‘round," were Billy's parting words and Eddie just nodded dumbly, mute, and watched him go.

Once Hargrove was out of sight, Eddie opened his hand. At first, it just looked like an unassuming wad of fabric, maybe a sock or something, small compared to the size of his palm.

Eddie unraveled it, holding it out in front of him, and then very quickly tossed it inside his open passenger window, eyes darting around to make sure no one had seen what Billy Hargrove had just given him —

The matching pair of panties to your bright red bra.

#billy x reader #billy hargrove x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #mungrove x reader #billy hargrove smut #eddie munson smut

[yinyuedijun]

hi I am testing out whether or not I'm shadowbanned. however I don't want to spam the main tags w irrelevant posts so I am offering this snippet from art of the bedchamber part 2 \o/

tw soggy sfw danheng (pre-1.2)

Dan Heng remembers when he assumed his human form for the first time.

It is a difficult scene to forget: the wreckage of an IPC ship, engulfed in the red glow of emergency lights. A robotic voice signalling the steady loss of hair: Attention, attention, the system had blared in a pleasant, sunny tone. Attention to all passengers. The Altair has experienced irreparable damage to its seal. There are 120 minutes until complete oxygen depletion. Please make your way to the lifepods. The Vega is on standby to receive all survivors. Attention, attention.

The PA system said nothing of the vengeful ghost who’d wrought all that destruction—both upon the ship and its passengers. Probably everyone who could have made such an announcement was dead.

Yinyue Jun, the wraith had called him, mara-poisoned eyes shining as his gaze fell upon his features. The same features that Dan Heng was now studying in the broken mirror, fragmented by cracks running through the glass. Dan Feng. Sinner. You’ll never escape your karmic debt. You'll never escape your punishment. I’ll find you whenever you are, no matter how far you run. Even if I forget everything else of my mortal life, I'll never forget your face.

His face.

Dan Heng had never seen much of his own face in the darkness of the Shackling Prison, but he'd been strung up and whipped for its likeness. Punished for whom it once belonged. This is simply the weight of your karma from your past life. It was you who buried your beloved. It was you who nearly destroyed your homeworld. It was your fault, Dan Feng, that she died. How could you do that to her? To your friend? High Elder, do you know how the Vidyadhara suffered for your pride? It is you who is at fault for the deaths of so many of our kin. You, you, you. This is what you deserve, Yinyue Jun, for your arrogance. it matters not if it was your past life, it matters not if you're now a child, you have no right to shed those tears—

Seeing his face—Yinyue Jun's face—for the first time then, with its gleaming irises, its jadeite horns, its otherworldly glow—

—Dan Heng hated it.

His features were a curse, one not unlike the powers he'd inherited. You should never be allowed to roam free, Dan Feng. You cannot be trusted with the powers of a High Elder. Not with how you lost control in your last life.

You are a danger to us all, Dan Feng.

This is what you deserve.

Dan Heng was eager to sculpt a new face for himself. Relieved to lock away his powers. Anxious to paint into existence a dream he’d long imagined as a child. The dull green of his eyes, the short clip of his dark hair, the only hint to his past a cinnabar stroke along his lashline—these were features he’d long envisioned for himself growing up in the Prison, devouring countless novels about worldly life on the Luofu. All those stories about human men and women, leading quaint and romantic lives unfettered by destiny. All those tales about mortals far removed from his existence as a disgraced High Elder.

Looking like this—plain, unassuming, without the marks of a Vidyadhara elder—Dan Heng could pretend to be one of those mortals. He could act like he'd never felt the bite of shackles in his wrists. Like he'd never felt the burn of a welt slashed across his back. Like he'd grown up in sunlight, not the darkness of a cell.

He could act as if he were in control of his own destiny.

It would be impossible, of course, to truly entertain these delusions. But he still likes to imagine it every now and then—particularly with you, nowadays. He thinks of it when he stares at your reflections in the mirror in the early morning, brushing your teeth side by side. He thinks of it when sees the photos that March 7th has taken of the two of you, pinned up conspicuously on your bedroom walls. He especially thinks of it when he catches himself looking at the selfies that you always insist on taking with him—which is very often, given how you like to snatch his phone and update his lockscreen with them.

To the uninformed eye, all of these scenes make the two of you look like a simple, human couple—one right out of a novel.

Dan Heng thinks about this most often: a normal life with you, in which he is not burdened with the title of Yinyue Jun. In which there is no chance of staining your future with the transgressions of his past. In which you’ve never once been hurt because of his relation to Dan Feng, and where you will never be hurt again.

If paradise is but a dream, he thinks, gazing at the contours of your soft expression, then I wish to sleep forever.

dividers by @/cafekitsune!

#its largely unedited i hope thats ok #dan heng x reader #hsr x reader #x reader #yueshuo.fics #hope thsi shows up

[thefiresontheheight]

"...while these [corporate re-education] programs have shown evidence of marginal positive effects (Meredithe et al.) and continue to be employed (Kine-Veck), they ultimately run into the same limitations as A.I. on interstellar hauls infallibly loyal to those possessing their security codes. That is, once outside effective communication distance companies cannot rely on any positive reinforcement. For this reason, it has been suggested that re-education instead focus on loyalty to the rest of the crew, rather than loyalty to the company." - A Proposal for Use of Romantic/Sexual Re-education on Interstellar Haul Crews, Delivered to the Board of VeckQwenZemco on New Armstrong, Mars, 2998 CE. *** The divorce come down and turn around was brutal. One moment your brain and biochemistry and hormones, all carefully wired by the re-education modules, make you fully believe that you have long been in a deep, committed, passionate relationship with the six to eight other people on the haul. You look at them and even though you know you'll only spend a few weeks of subjective time with them, maybe a month or two on a longer job, only a brief window out of cryo and not lagged by relativity, even though you know what you gave the company your written consent to do, your brain still loves them. Then you pull into orbit over Eridiani, or Luna, or wherever, you probably bang one last time, say your tearful goodbyes, and spend the next few weeks crying like you just lost the love of your life as the chemicals wash out and the deprogramming modules hit. The moment is over. But time spent on a company station meant time wracking up debt for oxygen, water, food. So, still on the come down, Reade looked for a course, signed the wavers, gave her consent, grabbed the meager belongings that had gotten her through seven of these hauls, now dating from over forty years ago given the time lost to cryo and near-light travel. File down to concourse-E. Begin again. "Here for the haul?" the skinny low-g kid of her in the line said. "Um, VeckGreenQwenZemco 3043-28897?" Reade sized them up. New kid. First haul. She could smell it on them. In a few hours she'd probably love them and have her brain inventing all sorts of bullshit justifications for the neurochemical feelings the company would induce in her in order to improve team cohesion and morale trillions of miles away from anyone else. In a few hours she'd love them for their optimism, their smile, their cheery attitude and all the questions. But not yet. Right now, still awash in the last break up, Reade savored the simple joy of being a miserable bitch. "Kid," she said, with a malicious grin, "you're gonna love me in a bit. But you're still gonna remember this so I want you to get a good earful of it before the re-education. I'm fucking hate you and hate that I have to do this and if I could I'd throw you out a fucking airlock." She pulled her headphones on and cranked the volume. It hurt, in her chest, and the least she could do was make someone else hurt with her. That freedom, at least, she had for a few more minutes.

#my writing #science fiction #original fiction

[jpitha]

You have to understand.

At least at first, I didn’t mean to do it. I had just gotten out of College, a kid with a degree in History and an eye watering amount of debt. I made the mistake of telling the professor I did early 21st century historical reenactments for my summer job and he let me take on a titanic amount of debt for historical realism. I’m not sure who I owe the money to, since we live in a post scarcity society, but I sure worry about repaying it, so I have that going for me. Extra points for realism.

After I graduated - with an ulcer from stress worrying about the debt, another point for realism! - I was bumming around the orbital looking for a way to earn some quick cash and I realized how I could put my degree to use. Everyone has everything provided for them by the government because - after the Unpleasantness - we figured out that was easier and cheaper than giving everyone on the planet a gun.

But that means that everyone has mostly forgotten how to keep an eye out for scams. Who is going to scam you anyway when you all have the same access to cheap and easy housing, food, and Space Cocaine?

People who have mountains of debt due to historical accuracy, that’s who.

I set up shop right outside the exit from Customs on the station. Rubes-er People from all over the Galaxy would come, hellbent on seeing the sights of my planet and before they could hit up the Cøffee Haüs they would find me.

I started small; ran a couple of three card monte tables, but without a partner, convincing people they could win without them actually winning was tough. I hacked a janitorbot into being my assistant and soon enough I would have a crowd watching.

This, while effective was incredibly boring, so I changed to my plan B and just started making fake supplements. For maximum compatibility across all of the galactic species, mine were pure carbon (to absorb toxins you see). This increased who I could sell too without worrying (too much) about inadvertently poisoning anyone.

A few people were sad I moved away from scamming people with cards, but they became my first ‘partners’ in selling my supplement. I had to actually explain how a Ponzi scheme worked though, nobody remembered. I told them about how so long as they found more suckers underneath them, they wouldn’t be left holding the bag and it took off like an oxygen accelerated fire.

There was also an oxygen accelerated fire, but that can’t be traced back to me.

Three weeks later, I was the richest human in the Galaxy. Honesty, I didn’t even know where everyone even got the money, I thought we had eliminated it, but here I am, rich as hell. I feel a little bad about it, but if I admit the whole thing was a ploy to pay off my student loans, I worry that they’ll turn on me.

I still haven’t paid off my loans either. I don’t think I can swing the payments and the payments on my Super Dreadnought. Did you know they’ll build anyone one so long as you put the deposit down?

Anyway, do you want to get in on an incredible deal on the low effort world of supplement sales?

#writing #sci fi writing #jpitha #humans are deathworlders #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #humans are space capybaras #humans are space australians

[joels-darlin]

Nightmares

Pairings: post-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY!! (minors DNI), mentions of anxiety/mental health, mentions panic attack, smut, fingering, grinding, unprotected P in V (keep it wrapped!!), creampie, pet names, dirty talk, riding a cowboy, teasing.

Summary: After waking up from a nightmare Joel helps you find comfort in a way you never thought was possible, all thanks to stealing his favourite flannel.

Word count: 2047

Authors Note: My first time writing smut and of course I had to do my man Joel Miller. I also think this might be my longest one shot to date so yay to smashing goals. Hope you all enjoy! I definitely enjoyed writing it. Feedback is appreciated ♥

As always a huge thankyou to @ladybess-a03 for the help and support on this one, forever in your debt. Also, I finally did it woo!!! ♥

Also posted on AO3.

Every night was the same; broken sleep, pounding heart, waking up in a pool of your own sweat. The vivid memories of those you loved dying in front of you at the hands of raiders and infected. Bleeding profusely or torn apart limb by limb. Horrific images forever ingrained into the cells of your brain.

Gasping for air, you woke with a fright, bolting straight up into a sitting position, lungs burning, breathing deeply to force some oxygen into them. Beads of sweat trailed down your face leading to the uncomfortable burning sensation behind your eyes. A brief scan of the room told you that it was still dark outside, dead of the night, the only light source coming from the old street lamps of Jackson which painted a yellow hue across the walls of the bedroom.

“It’s okay, you're safe, here in Jackson, with Joel and Ellie” you thought to yourself, the words circling around your head over and over again, trying desperately to console your anxious and terrified form. You gripped the now sweat soaked sheets in any hope of grounding yourself, feeling the smooth of the material against calloused skin.

After a few minutes of composing yourself, breathing returning to normal, you turned to the right, your eyes landing on Joel. He was lying on his side, facing towards the wall, clutching a pillow. The sheets draped loosely around his naked torso; quite the sight, you had to admit. The sounds of soft snores that left his lips signalling that he was having a peaceful night's sleep for once.

There was no way of getting back to sleep after that, the dream was far too vivid to even consider closing your eyes again. Feeling defeated you stripped the sheets back, careful not to disturb your sleeping partner. Making the conscious decision to grab one of his flannels that hung over the bedpost, throwing it over your frame, which was only covered in a vest top, the scent of him wrapped around you like a comfort blanket burying your nose deep into the fabric.

It was dark when you stepped out of the bedroom, your eyes squinting with adjustment. Reaching out you followed the curve of the walls with your fingertips, finally grasping the edge of the banister, carefully retreating down the stairs one step at a time and into the living room. The couch being your final destination. ────────

“Darlin’ what are you doing down here?”

You flinched in panic at his voice, close to dropping the book you were buried in as a distraction. Closing the cover, making sure to mark the page, before placing it on the coffee table. Turning your body facing the doorway where he stood, you locked eyes with Joel briefly.

“Couldn’t sleep. I-I, erm…well…I had a nightmare. But I could ask you the same thing?” you said, hoping that your questioning would have him glaze over your admittance to another nightmare.

“Hold up, a nightmare? You should have woke me” he said. You shrugged.

“You looked peaceful, and I didn’t want to disturb you”.

“Oh sweetheart…”. He approached, taking the seat on the couch next to you. Feeling the warmth radiating off his body, you hopped into his lap, strong muscular arms wrapping around your form. You lay your head in the crook of his neck.

“Next time, please wake me. Don't care if I’m dead to the world or not, I panicked when I woke up to an empty bed” he spoke softly into your hair. “Now…you wanna tell me about it sweetheart?” he asked.

“Not tonight too vivid, but I don’t know if I will sleep at all if I recount it” you mumbled. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Maybe another time, hmm?” he asked, and you nodded in response. “I’m never getting this back, am I?” he chuckled, pulling at the hem of his, (no, your) shirt.

“Nope” you responded, emphasis on popping the ‘P’, leaning in for a chaste kiss. Joel captured your lips as you pulled away, kissing you deeply for a few moments.

“I like seeing you in my clothes though, it’s…hot” he whispered, brushing his nose against your chin, moving down to place soft kisses at the exposed skin of your neck, nibbling on it lightly. There was only one way this was going, you could feel the pool of desire starting to well in your lower stomach, evident that your thin sleep shorts were now flooded in hot, wet arousal.

“Joel…” you whined, trying to send him a clear message that you wanted, no, needed him. Besides, it’s not like you were likely to be able to sleep now…

“M’yeah, baby…I know…I know,” he mumbled between kisses. Detaching your lips for a brief second, you took control. Pushing off of his lap moving to straddle him, legs either side of his hips, skin making contact with the soft leather of the couch. Moving your arms around his neck, fingers threading into the hair at the nape of his neck, eliciting a soft moan from Joel.

“God damn, baby girl, you will be the death of me,” he spoke breathlessly. Foreheads touching, his deep brown orbs shone in the dark room with lust and desire, boring into yours. He leaned in virtually smashing his lips against your kissing you passionately.

Completely focused on his lips it took you by surprise when moved his hands up the back of your top, the feeling of the warm, calloused skin against yours causing the ripple effect of goosebumps across your body. He continued, hands now traversing around the front of your top cupping both your breasts, squeezing gently, causing you to moan into his mouth. Taking both your nipples rolling them through his thumb and forefinger, lips detaching and your back arching involuntarily at his touch. Jesus, this man.

Two could play that game. Grinding down on Joel’s lap, his hard bulge protruded through the thin pyjama pants that adorned his lower body.

“Fuck darlin’…” he moaned in response as you continued to grind against his aching length. The friction was so good that you were hurtling towards your own peak.

“You have two choices, cowboy, take me to bed or take me here” you whispered into his ear in a sultry tone, dragging your teeth over his earlobe gently. Joel thrust up in response, rolling his hips into yours multiple times.

“Won’t make it…upstairs…here…now” he stuttered. “Lift up for me” placing his large hands at your waist he guided your hips up so you were hovering over him. In one swift motion he lifted his own slightly, sliding his pyjamas off so they pooled at his ankles. Glancing down you drunk in his thick, hard cock which was glistening at the head with pre-cum. A wave of desire pooling in your stomach at the sheer sight of it.

“Now you are too overdressed for my liking darlin’. Let's get rid of these clothes…the shirt…that stays on though” he growled forcing your gaze up towards him. Taking a fistful of your shorts in each hand he pulled the fabric tearing at the seams as he ripped it from your frame, doing the same with the vest top until you were completely bare; just the flannel hanging from your shoulders.

“Joel…my-” your words were interrupted as he forced his lips against yours again, tongues tangling going to war in the battle for dominance. “Don’t care…will…get…more” he grumbled between rough kisses.

“Please…” you whined, body aching for his touch. It was only when he reached between your frantic bodies that you gasped, head thrown back in pleasure at the contact. His fingers swiping through your folds collecting the arousal that pooled at your entrance.

“So wet for me darlin’ god damn” he growled, dragging his fingers up to circle your clit. He was teasing at this point and it was painful wanting nothing more that his hard length inside you. You continued to moan loudly as his long, slender fingers toyed with the sensitive bud, every nerve in your body standing on end.

“Gotta make sure you are ready for me though” dropping his head into your neck biting and sucking on the skin there driving you wild, his tongue glancing over each mark as if to soothe. Removing his fingers from your clit, whimpering at the loss, traversing down. Lazily tracing two fingers at your entrance before sinking them inside you in one movement, making you moan loudly.

Joel knew what made you tick. The two of you spending countless hours between the sheets exploring the depths of each other bodies. So it was no surprise when he curled his fingers slightly, instantly grazing that soft and sensitive spot inside, knowing exactly it’s location every time. Starting to pump his fingers in and out at a slow pace, the sheer sensation from his thick fingers nearly sending you tumbling over the edge. Only the sounds of your moans and him working away at your hot, wet core filling the room.

“Need you…please” his thick fingers withdrawing from your entrance at your plea’s.

“Lift up darlin’” obeying the command and lifting your hips once more.

There was something enticing about watching him, taking his hard length into his fist and giving it a few pumps before aligning at your entrance. Teasing once again swiping the head through your wet folds and nudging the sensitive bundle of nerves, moans tumbling your lips. Taking matters into your own hands and not wanting to waste anymore time you sunk down on him, full to the hilt, both moaning in unison.

“So tight darlin’ made for me” Joel growled hands moving now to your hips, gently grabbing at the skin there.

Steadying yourself you start moving up and down bouncing on Joel’s thick, hard cock - starting out with a slow rhythm. Feeling the tip of his length hitting just the right spot of your cervix with every movement. Core burning with white hot desire, in this position you were definitely not going to last very long.

Joel dips his head, lips skating over the skin between the valley of your breasts, leaving a trail of wet kisses. You moan, loud enough that the neighbours definitely heard, as he takes a nipple into his hot, wet mouth. Tongue circling around the sensitive bud, it peaking in response.

The muscles in your thighs are burning. But the sheer desire of Joel splitting you open with his cock supersedes that and you continue picking up the pace slightly - hurtling fast towards your climax. Chanting his name like a prayer.

“m’not gonna last darlin’ so—fucking—good” Joel groans hands moving down from you hips to your ass, kneading the supple skin gently. Leaning forward to connect your lips together in a passionate but breathless kiss as you continued to ride him.

He could tell you were getting close, movements getting sloppier by the minute, walls fluttering around his length and he wasn’t far behind either. Taking one of his hands from your behind, traversing round to your front, fingers glancing lightly over your sensitive clit for a few strokes. Lips detaching from his in a instant as you screamed in pleasure.

“I’m gonna—” not getting the chance to finish the sentence before your climax hit quick and hard. Back arching, head thrown back, Joel’s name tumbling from your lips. Swearing you could see stars littering the insides of your eyelids.

In the same moment Joel’s strong arm wraps around your back as he thrusts his hips up to meet yours, length twitching inside your tight cunt as he painted your walls with hot, sticky cum. A throaty moan leaving his lips.

Your labored breaths were the only sounds in the room, both taking a moment to come down for your highs. Body aching, core in particular still fluttering with pleasure, still full to the hilt with him. Moving to lean into the crook of his neck

“That’s one way to get rid of the nightmares I guess” you smiled, whispering against the sweaty skin beneath your lips, pressing a soft kiss there. He chuckled, broad frame shaking beneath you “Anytime baby, anytime”.

#pedro pascal character fics #joel miller fanfic #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel tlou

[shychick-52]

Gyro has really had a huge impact on a lot of people's lives in DuckTales. And sadly, he was so overlooked (by both the characters and the production crew)...

If it hadn't been for his OxyChew supplying Della with oxygen, nutrition, and water, she never would have survived to make it back to her family; the Ducks really owe him a huge debt of gratitude. It honestly bothers me how ungrateful Della was; I mean, I get how horrible it must've been to suffer the taste of black licorice for a decade (and to have the taste permanently stuck in your mouth after that), but c'mon...

In 'The Most Dangerous Game... Night', if Gyro hadn't shown up with his shrink ray and interfered in the Ducks' game night, Louie- who was questioning how he fit into the family- might not have discovered his talent of seeing all the angles, and how that contributes to the family on their adventures, and how he could use that talent to someday have his own successful business like Scrooge.

If Gyro hadn't created the armor in the first place (before it became the Gizmoduck armor, back when it was still known as Project Blatherskite and was supposed to be Gyro's ultimate project and solution to regain control over his inventions after they always turn evil), Fenton never would have discovered that his passion for helping others- which he still always loved doing as a scientist, even after becoming Gizmoduck- could also extend to being a superhero. And Gyro actually gave him the new-and-improved model of the armor in the end, which he specifically built for Fenton (self-contained, using Fenton's brain as the core processor this time); granted, that was on Scrooge's orders, and Gyro still thought Fenton was a danger to himself and others in the suit, but the point stands.

If Gyro and his technology hadn't helped Scrooge get back his gold Rockerduck stole (Gyro happened to be stuck in the Old West with his Time Tub, which was a fortunate coincidence), Scrooge wouldn't have gotten that part of his fortune or that part of his legacy.

Gyro took Manny on as an intern and gave him his own name- and yes, Frank Angones indeed confirmed he got his name from Gyro, which likely explains why Gyro actually remembers it- allowing our favorite Headless Man-Horse to become more of a normal guy with a normal life like he wanted, instead of just an evil supernatural creature or 'freak'.

Gyro played a huge part in helping disable the Solego Void before Donald could be erased when Bradford threw him in!

As @sometimes-they-come-back-237 pointed out in a very similar Gyro appreciation post (which I think is such a fun coincidence, and it's so cool more people agree), he saved both Della and Donald, and he deserves a raise (and more respect by Della)!

#ducktales #ducktales 2017 #dt17 #gyro gearloose #fenton crackshell cabrera #della duck #louie duck #manny the headless man horse #scrooge mcduck #donald duck #character analysis #I had this post scheduled to be reblogged with the new examples before I saw that other post XD

[hanilessa]

Hiiii can i rq a platonic tartaglia with a child!reader. like imagine the fatui kill her parents cause they were in debt and try to kill her too so she runs and while she’s running she bumps into tartaglia? tyy

i feel like tartaglia would protect her cause she wasn’t at fault for the debt

` Author’s notes: hii, darling! thanks for your request <3 i'm sorry i kept you waiting. i hope you enjoy reading!!

` Characters: Childe, fem!reader

` Warnings: mention of cruelty

You were completely lost. Feeling like a small and powerless person in this cruel and frightening world was completely unbearable. You trembled as you hid behind large wooden boxes, sincerely hoping no one would find you here.

The furious downpour darkened your thoughts even more, the cold water hit your fragile body like a whip, making you tremble with cold and fear. You didn't know where to go. Thoughts tangled like a ball of yarn, you looked around in the hope of finding at least someone who could help you.

With bare feet you walked along the cold stone of the road, and sharp stones dug into your small legs. It was hard, painful and scary, but you promised your parents that you would survive, no matter what.

You should have moved very quietly, because the Fatui followed you from your home to the port to demand that you pay the debts that your family had.

You were still a young child, and you couldn't earn money yourself. The only thing you could do was steal bread and fruit from the market while the merchants were distracted by other customers. Therefore, you had nothing to pay them.

Sniffing, you carefully made your way through the narrow passage, heading for the rescue ships, which will probably take you to a place where you can start a new life. Heavy drops hit your face, mixing with salty tears, and this makes it very difficult for you to move forward, but you try not to give up.

You catch a glimpse of the ship's mast and a sigh of relief escapes your lips as you make one last dash to run up to the ship, when suddenly your arm is grabbed and roughly pulled back.

A frightened scream escapes your throat as a Fatui soldier, grinning wryly, unceremoniously lifts you off the ground.

"Gotcha!" Fear crawls through your body like a snake that coils around your neck, blocking access to saving oxygen.

You try to resist, squirming in the strong grip of a soldier, but your strength isn't enough to resist an adult trained man. You're just a child after all.

"Please…" Tears flowed from your eyes in streams, all your strength gradually dried up. "Let me go…"

"You must pay your price." The soldier answered you and took out his weapon, but he was interrupted by an explosion of the hydro element, which knocked the weapon out of his hands.

It was very unexpected, so the taken aback a soldier loosened his grip, and you fell to the hard ground, painfully hitting a stone.

"It's you who must be the ones who will pay the price." A menacing voice was heard from the side, and you gathered your last strength to raise your head and see who was your savior.

Not far from you stood a man in gray clothes with a red mask on his face. His ginger, wet hair swayed in the wind, and this set him apart from the gray and gloominess. You clenched your fists in fear.

"S-sir?" The soldiers stepped aside in fright, moving away from you at a decent distance.

An unfamiliar man with a mask on his face pointed his bow at the soldiers and said, "You have a minute to disappear from my sight, or you will be the next to experience the power of my bow."

The Fatui soldiers trembled and hurried to obey the commander's order, and you could watch them scatter headlong in different directions. When all the voices and steps finally subsided, you turned around in fear to an unfamiliar man who was slowly approaching you.

You tried to crawl away, scared and trembling, but you ran into a stone wall. There was nowhere to run. When the man noticed your actions, he tried to calm you down, letting you know that you no longer need to be afraid.

"Hey, darling, you have nothing to fear anymore." He removed the red mask from his face and you could look into his eyes. The blue azure of his eyes met you with incredible tenderness, and for the first time in a long time you were able to feel some relief.

The man held out his hand to you, and with slight hesitation you put your small palm into his strong hand.

"Let's go, I must feed you well."

#tartaglia x reader #childe x y/n #childe x reader #tartaglia x y/n #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #tartaglia imagines #childe x you #childe imagines #tartaglia x you #genshin men x reader #genshin men #genshin impact imagines

[gooseloverfiction]

Hug

Ken x Reader

A bit of a comfort with Ken <3 Word count: 569

The door slammed loud after you. It wasn’t really your intention but anger brewing up all day now was close to boiling over. And the lock in the door was jammed again. 

You went straight to your bedroom, throwing your shoes on the way there. 

The bed seemed like the perfect place to hide from everyone and everything. You slipped the coat off your shoulders and let it fall to the ground, hiding under the covers. 

It wasn’t long before the bleached head peeked inside. 

“Darling? Are you okay?” Ken’s voice was gentle, when he came closer to your bed. 

“I’m fine Ken. I’m just tired. Just leave me,” you mumbled from your hideout. 

But he could hear the tremor in your voice. You weren’t fine. 

You’ve heard a click of your door and hugged yourself tighter. This day was nothing but failure. First your car broke just as you came to work. Brakes were stuck and the whole car with them. No one was able to help you, so you had to leave it there, calling for help, letting it be towed. 

The rest of the day was just a mix of stress, worry and work.

You had to ask your colleague to take you home, which you hated. You didn’t like to be in someone’s debt. Especially if you couldn’t repay it right away.

Deep in your thoughts, you didn’t even hear Ken coming back. 

Mattress next to you dipped and the cover from your head was lifted carefully. Ken looked at you with a smile, showing a mug.

“I’ve made you your favorite tea.” 

“Thanks, can you put it on the nightstand?” you asked, turning away from him. His brows furrowed. He couldn’t let his baby be all sad and mushy. 

Putting steaming hot mug away, he slipped under the cover, not listening to your protests. He pulled you to him and snuggled you into his big form. He nestled your head under his chin and hugged you tight. 

“Ken…” you started, trying to free yourself. But his big, muscled arms held you with force. 

“I won’t let go of you until you feel better. And you know I can hug you forever, right? I love to hug you. And kiss you, and make you feel good,” saying that, Ken started to put kisses on your hair, putting his hand under your clothes, resting it on your stomach. 

You closed your eyes and sighed with shaky breath. It was pointless to even try to fight with this man. You let your body melt with his, putting your hand on top of his, entwining your fingers. 

Finally, ready to face Ken, you turned (with some struggle) around in his arms and he put his big hand on your face, cupping all your side in it.

“Hey there,” he whispered, kissing the tip of your nose. 

“Hi.” Your voice was hoarse and you felt on the brink of tears.  

Ken had to see it because he quickly leaned and kissed both of your eyelids, peppering your cheeks with feather-light touches. He kissed your lips, lingering there until you finally hugged him back. 

You pulled out when you were close to fainting from lack of oxygen. 

Seeing your smile made Ken's heart swell. He always wanted you to smile. And he felt proud of himself he could make you do it. You snuggled into him, already feeling better.

#ken x reader #Ken #ryan gosling #x reader #barbie the movie #comfort

[screamingseeker]

DARK WATERS

merformer megatron x marine biologist!reader

If you knew what was waiting for you when you went into the water that day, you would've stayed in and start packing to go home.

But there were only a few weeks left of your summer research trip left and the Troian Isles were home to the one of the most unique ecosystems in the world. It would be a crime not to spend as much time in the water as possible.

So, armed with your trusty underwater camera, you hopped into the old speedboat tied to the dock and sped away from shore.

You slowed down just before you were out of swimming distance from the docks. You had learned the hard way to keep close to land.

You tossed the anchor overboard and while it made it's way to the ocean floor, you suited up in your fullbody swimsuit and oxygen tank, complete with goggles. You sat on the edge of the boat and let yourself fall backwards, quickly descending with the extra weight of the tank.

You reached the ocean floor. The coral reefs glittered in the sun and colorful fish swam around you in every direction, but you paid special attention to a small octopus that moved towards you on the ocean floor.

It was curious, but kept it's distance and you didn't try to get closer to it. You took several photos and lost your in your favorite place in the world.

You didn't even notice how much time had passed until the water became darker around you and you looked up to see a purple sky.

There were no sharks anywhere near the Troian Isles, but as a rule of thumb, it wasn't a good idea to be in the water at night. So you put your camera's strap around your neck and swam up towards the surface.

By the time you pulled yourself back onto your boat, the sun was dipping below the horizon and you took a moment to just admire the view. Purple and orange hues painted the sky, slowly being overtaken by a deep blue.

You really were lucky to have gotten the chance to spend your summer here.

You grabbed the steering wheel and turned the boat towards the docks, speeding away as the sun set behind you.

The boat reached the dock just as night fell. You securely tied the boat to the dock and were just about to get off when you noticed something in the water.

Below the dock, something gray and shiny shape was thrashing around.

It must be a dolphin, you realized in horror.

You immediately shrugged off the oxygen tank and dove into the water before it even hit the floor. Swimming blind, you followed the warped sound of the dolphin moving until you felt sleek skin beneath your outstretched hand. You also felt the netting holding it down.

You reached for the knife strapped to your hip and the dolphin thrashed harder, which made it that much harder to make sure you didn't hurt it as you cut away at the net.

You could barely see in the dark, but you felt the net give way and you gave it some space so it could swm away.

But it stayed where it was.

You realized much too late it was too large to be a dolphin.

It looked at you and red eyes glowed in the dark water.

You gasped and water filled your mouth and nose, immediately making you scream in your mind. You needed air. Kicking your legs, you fought your way to the surface and away from the creature, but you were already lightheaded and black spots were filling your vision.

You were going to die with water in your lungs and no one knowing where you were.

Claws suddenly hooked into your arms and you screamed as you sped upwards, exploding out of the water and landing hard on the dock.

Sea water burned as it rushed out of you, nearly making you throw up from gagging so much. You just laid there, grateful for every breath and once you had the strength, you lifted your head to look back at the ocean.

Unblinking red eyes stared up at you, the rest of the creature's face hidden in the water.

You stared at each other for several moments, your heart pounding in your ears.

It spoke.

"I am in your debt." It said in a low, rumbling voice.

Before you could get a word out, it's head dipped below the water, disappearing into the dark. Like it had never even been there.

You should've just stayed home.

#merformers #megatron x reader #transformers x reader #transformers imagines #back on my merformer bs #the time is almost upon us #so send in those merformer requests folks #fic: dark waters #the troian isles

[anexperimentallife]

Help a disabled, neurodivergent, interracial family get back to the US for medical treatment

After three bouts of COVID and other medical issues over the past six years here in the Philippines, my health has deteriorated to the point at which I'm worried I won't get to watch my little girl grow up unless I can get back to where I can use my Medicare and VA benefits for various surgeries and treatments.

Unfortunately, even with all y'all's help, @thesurestthing and I are still in debt from the two-year ordeal of fixing our daughter's stateless status, so we can't do this on our own. My little sister started a fundraiser for us, and there are a couple of other ways to help, as well. If you can't help, please reblog. Thank you! (The PayPal link takes the lowest fees, but whatever works for you is best!)

If you want more details, they're under the cut:

Six years ago, while still grieving the deaths of my adult sons and a painful breakup, I moved from the US to the Philippines with just what I could carry, in large part because it's actually possible to survive here on the pittance US disability pays. I had kind of given up on life and figured I would sort of drift off eventually. I wasn't going to kick my own bucket, mind you; I just wasn't going to try very hard to keep living. And I figured I'd just pass away someplace beautiful.

Soon after I got here, though, @thesurestthing (also American) started messaging me from the states, told me she was going to come to the Philippines and be my girlfriend (even though I told her no at first), and eventually joined me here. We had a baby under lockdown, and got married.

So now I had something to live for. (And most of y'all know the drama with the error on El's birth certificate that left her stateless and took almost two years and a lot of money to get fixed.)

But I have had health scare after health scare over the past few years, including three bouts of COVID (some of you remember the month I spent hooked up to an oxygen machine), two bouts of pneumonia, a persistent two-year foot infection that took surgery to clear up (and is going to require another surgery to keep cleared up), damage to my heart and scarring in my lungs from long covid, a literal hole in my throat that is growing bigger, a spine injury, joint injuries, osteo and rheumatoid arthritis, a traumatic brain injury that affects my memory and concentration, adhd, bipolar disorder, autism, and other issues.

(Not even getting into the dental stuff--Hope to be able to get that done before we go back, here where it's cheaper, because Medicare doesn't cover that.)

I'm terrified that I won't be alive to watch my little girl grow up unless I can get someplace where I can use my Medicare and VA health benefits.

An old friend of mine is a social worker and on the school board in a small Minnesota city with its own VA clinic, and has offered to help us get settled in there, but we still have to find a place to live (suitable for a couple that includes a physically disabled adult, and who have a toddler), some basic household goods, some cheap used transportation, and need to survive for a couple of months while Zoey looks for work.

Given our situation in general and the fact that right now my disability is our only income, we're probably looking at having to pay at least six months (or possibly an entire year) of rent up front in order to get anyplace to lease to us.

We can't stay with friends because every single stateside friend we have with a spare room also has a cat--and I have an anaphylactic allergic reaction to cats, meaning that I will literally die if I'm around a cat for too long. I've had to go to the ER because I slept in a room that had a blanket in the corner that a cat had momentarily lain on. The only way I can be around cats is if I'm on massive doses of immunosuppressive drugs, which, well... The whole issue here is that I keep getting deathly ill, so suppressing my immune system even more is a non-starter. Oh, and Fel D 1, the protein secreted in cat dander, saliva, and waste, can stay even on hard surface for up to two years, and even longer on porous surfaces.

Again, if we weren't still in so much debt from El's birth certificate debacle, we might be able to do this at least mostly on our own. But as things stand, we can't do it on our own. We need your help.

If you read all of this, thank you very much. And again, if you can't give, please reblog.

For more medical details, check my Rob Gets Medical tag. For more details about Eleanor's birth certificate saga, check my Baby El tag.

#rob gets medical

[toxinellebug]

Shadybug’s Paris Headcanons

Paris is not the “City of Love”, it is the “City of Progress”.

Many of those old fashioned buildings from a bygone era have been torn down and replaced with buildings that are more practical than aesthetic or factories.

Plastic is fantastic, the Seine is super polluted (and there is a rumored crocodile living there so citizens are advised to stand clear) but after getting rid of some useless parks, Project Oxygen has already started to improve Parisian Air Quality.

There is no ice-rink.

Admission to the Louvre is ridiculously expensive, and several pieces of art and historical artifacts have been locked up in the archives because it was determined that they were detrimental to public welfare and could incite anarchy. (In reality, the Supreme has locked away anything that is related to previous holders of the Miraculous).

There is a strict curfew and Martial law upheld by the Enforcers under the decree of the Supreme.

As such, there is no need for elections or mayors.

Socialism is prohibited.

This means that Libraries are not free; you need to fill out paperwork and pay a membership fee to gain entrance, and pay a separate rental fee for each book you rent, and the late fees are horrific. The selection of books available is limited as any material deemed to promote dangerous ideas has been strictly banned under penalty of law.

Fire and rescue services are not paid by tax payers, they are paid for by the people who need saving, as such, nobody is willing to go into financial debt over a cat stuck in a tree.

But thanks to the Supreme, there are no more wars, no debates over politics or religion. The world can focus on technological progress. Banning dangerous items has greatly reduced all crime, and Enforcers carry out punishment swiftly and efficiently.

Disobedience is not tolerated, because disobedience leads to civil violence and disruption, which leads to anarchy.

But if you are obedient and work hard, it is possible to move up in the world.

Freedom is a small price to pay for World Peace.

No one knows where the Supreme’s headquarters are located expect for a few elite, and no one knows if the Supreme is one person or a group of people.

But the Supreme guides the world and has lead everyone to prosperity. The Supreme cannot be questioned.

The Supreme defeated the Nazis, the Japanese, and even the Soviets.

Any radical or terrorist groups are swiftly eliminated by the Supreme.

There is no such thing as miracles. Keep your head down, mind your own business, fall in line, and strive for your own success, do not be weighed down by others or allow yourself to fall victim to misleading liberal and socialist ideals and propaganda that will lead to civil unrest. The obedient are always rewarded for their efforts. The impoverished exist due to laziness or criminal intent and are to be avoided. Those who ask for help expect free handouts and wish to leech off the hard work of upstanding citizens; they must be shunned.

Nobody does anything without adequate compensation. Never trust a “free lunch”, it may be poisoned.

Pigeons are disease spreading vermin and every effort is being made to exterminate them.

The Supreme began to suspect that whomever stole from him is hiding out in Paris after certain impossible “miracles” begin to happen in the city.

But the Supreme can’t show weakness and allow those who have sworn loyalty to know that he was robbed. Can’t risk them getting greedy and trying to steal from him as well.

He needs someone naive and inexperienced, someone who can be easily tempted and manipulated into retrieving the stolen Miraculous and keeping their mouth shut about it.

Who better than emotionally unstable teens, angry at the world, and bitterly determined to keep their business secret from adults who could never understand their pain? Teens who have no wealth or power of their own to change their lives and achieve their desires. Teens who would be too prideful or too afraid to admit their mistakes when things go wrong? Teens too oblivious to how the world really works, and could not care less for the consequences of their actions, even if it means slowly destroying the city in order to lure out a man who is determined to play “Hero”.

And, should they prove useless, it would be easy to take their miraculous back and let their bodies deteriorate, along with any and all secrets of magic jewels.

After all, it is hardly newsworthy if some Baker’s daughter suddenly “dies from an incurable illness”, and the Tragedy of a teen model “disappearing”, either as a means to escape the pressures of fame or a desire to join their mother in the afterlife is both entertaining and distracting, the Media will eat it up like candy.

This is the World that Betterfly/Hesperia wishes to change.

#miraculous paris #miraculous world #miraculous fandom #shadybug #miraculous ladybug #toxinelle #griffe noire #claw noir #The Supreme #Kwamis #Gabriel Agreste #Adrien Agreste #marinette dupain cheng #Hesperia #Betterfly #mlb s5 #miraculous #miraculous paris special #miraculous world paris

[notmorbid]

still born.

dialogue prompts from still born by guadalupe nettel. this book deals directly with infant loss / illness.

nothing will happen to you while i'm here.

in friendships like ours, there's no room for hypocrisy.

they say that violence begets violence.

the more we love a person, the more fragile and insecure we feel because of them.

if you disappeared, a part of me would go with you.

i can't take any more of you.

can i bum one off you?

what was it like to live with ____?

i didn't come here to argue with you.

i've got you to love. i don't need anyone else.

can you talk? i need to tell you something.

it's a long story. you'll need to pay attention. do you have time now?

did you just get back from school?

i just went for a walk around the block.

why don't we go to the park this afternoon?

i talk to myself, too.

did anyone tell you what happened?

what did i do wrong?

there's nothing like looking at a lake to calm one's thoughts.

do you mind if i smoke?

i promise you i won't leave until it's better.

the city is full of dangerous people.

i can't imagine what it would feel like to be in your place.

there's no word for a parent who loses a child.

did you used to play in the street when you were little?

it's not healthy to wallow in pain.

what should i have done differently?

i can't keep explaining it over and over again.

talking about it made me feel better.

anger is nothing but a screen for avoiding pain.

you're totally unreadable.

you're smoking again?

being a mother means being worried about someone else all the time.

love and common sense are not always compatible.

some music fuses with our selves, we've listened to it so much.

cohabitation is one of the hardest experiences to survive.

i wouldn't mind a vodka tonic.

some people are more awake at night.

what did you used to like doing before you shut yourself in?

i don't want kids, even adopted ones.

you forgot how to be happy.

there's nothing for you here. go away.

it's easier to blame others for what we can't tolerate in ourselves.

you look like you've gone back in time.

you can spend the day with me.

it's not right, but sometimes it's worth doing.

what i want is for you to stop meddling in my life.

i need to know so i can help you.

it's as if ____ needs to suck my life force to grow.

all i feel is worn out.

normal mothers don't think those kinds of things, do they?

i'm not sure 'normal mothers' exist.

you'll judge me. you always do.

there are people who consider misfortune an infectious disease.

we tend to see our mother's mistakes as the source of all our problems.

you're always questioning the past.

if you don't leave home, you suffocate. if you go too far, you lose oxygen.

from hereon in, anything that happens is a bonus.

i'm here to help you, not to fight you.

i like to say things straight.

there's always a way to renegotiate debt.

i can't believe you hid this from me. it's like staying quiet when there's a fire in the house.

you're not on your own. we're a family now.

i ask myself why you stay sometimes, too.

are we going to stay like this for the rest of our lives?

blood ties don't guarantee anything.

the biological family is something that's been imposed on us. there's no reason we should settle for that if it doesn't work for us.

i can't stand being in my head.

is it your voice in your head, or someone else's?

what do you do when your thoughts bother you?

you've got space inside you where you can go and hide.

we have the children that we have, not the ones we imagined we'd have.

what could someone so young know about despair?

don't leave my side for a minute.

i feel like an absolute worm.

do you think you'll be able to fall in love again?

don't be nervous. whatever has to happen will happen. no one gets out of that.

#rp meme #ask memes #inbox memes #rp memes #ask meme #rp prompts #inbox meme #sentence starters #families