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iwanthermidnightz · 6 months

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When I was 24 I sat in a backstage dressing room in London, buzzing with anticipation. My backup singers and bandmates gathered around me in a scattered circle.Scissors emerged and I watched in the mirror as my locks of long curly hair fell in piles on the floor. There I was in my plaid button down shirt, grinning sheepishly as my tour mates and friends cheered on my haircut. This simple thing that everyone does. But I had a secret. For me. It was more than a change of hairstyle. When I was 24. I decided to completely reinvent myself.

How does a person reinvent herself, you ask? In any way I could think of. Musically, geographically, aesthetically, behaviorally, motivationally. And I did so joyfully. The curiosity I had felt the first murmurs of while making red had amplified into a pulsing heartbeat of restlessness in my bars. The risks I took when I toyed with pop sounds and sensibilities on red? I wanted to push it further. The sense of freedom I felt when traveling to big bustling cities? I wanted to live in one. The voices that had begun to shame me in new ways for dating like a normal young woman? I wanted to silence them.

You see, in the years preceding this, I had become the target of slut shaming, the intensity and relentlessness of which would be criticized and called out if it happened today. The jokes about my amount of boyfriends. The trivialization of my songwriting as if it were a predatory act of a boy crazy psychopath. The media co-signing of this narrative. I had to make it stop because it was starting to really hurt.

It became clear to me that for me there was no such thing as casual dating, or even having a male friend who you platonically hang out with. If I was seen with him, it was assumed I was sleeping with him. And so I swore off hanging out with guys, dating, flirting, or anything that could be weaponized against me by a culture that claimed to believe in liberating women but consistently treated me with the harsh moral codes of the Victorian era.

Being a consummate optimist, I assumed I could fix this if I simply changed my behavior. I swore off dating and decided to focus only on myself, my music, my growth. And my female friendships. If I only hung out with my female friends, people couldn't sensationalize or sexualize that, right? I would learn later on that people could and people would.

But none of that mattered then because I had a plan and I had a demeanor as trusting as a basket of golden retriever puppies. I had the keys to my own apartment in New York and I had new melodies bursting from my imagination. I had Max Martin and Shellback who were happy to help me explore this new sonic landscape I was enamored with. I had a new friend named Jack Antonoff who had made some cool tracks in his apartment. I had the idea that the album would be called 1989. And we would reference big 80's synths and write sky high choruses. I had sublime, inexplicable faith and I ran right toward it, in high heels and a crop top.

There was so much that I didn't know then, and looking back I see what a good thing that was. This time of my life was marked by right kind of naïveté, a hunger for adventure. And a sense of freedom I hadn't tasted before. It turns out that the cocktail of naïveté, hunger for adventure and freedom can lead to some nasty hangovers, metaphorically speaking. Of course everyone had something to say. But they always will. I learned lessons, paid prices, and tried to… don't say it don't say it. I'm sorry, I have to say it. Shake it off.

I’ll always be so incredibly grateful for how you loved and embraced this album. You, who followed my zig zag creative choices and cheered on my risks and experiments. You, who heard the wink and humor in "blank space" and maybe even empathized with the pain behind the satire. You, who saw the seeds of allyship and advocating for equality in "Welcome to New York". You, who knew that maybe a girl who surrounds herself with female friends in adulthood is making up for a lack of them in childhood (not starting a tyrannical hot girl cult). You, who saw that I reinvent myself for a million reasons, and that one of them is to try my very best to entertain you. You, who have had the grace to allow me the freedom to change.

I was born in 1989. Reinvented for the first time in 2014, and a part of me was reclaimed in 2023 with the re-release of this album I love so dearly.

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine the magic you would sprinkle on my life for so long. This moment is a reflection of the woods we've wandered through and all this love between us still glowing in the darkest dark.

I present to you, with gratitude and wild wonder, my version of 1989.

It’s been waiting for you.

#taylor swift #1989 taylor's version #1989 tv #1989 tv prologue

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creative-caramel-coffee · 23 days

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The Spiders Sister - Chapter 1

Summary: Reader gets caught hiding out in the avengers tower. In the end it turns out for the best.

TW: non-sexual nudity, illness, fainting, swearing

Words: 4.1K

A/n: Super long first chapter

маленький паук – Little Spider

It defiantly wasn’t part of your life plan to be living with your bother again in your adulthood.

You had spent an excellent few months on your own having finally moved out of May Parker’s apartment, it had been perfect. Well … as perfect as life could be for a parker.

Then … you guessed it … parker luck struck again. There was a huge fight, one you had been itching to join but your brother, peter parker, had it covered. And since nobody knew that you sometimes wore the spider-man suit when peter wasn’t able to, it would all be over if two Spider-Man’s ended up fighting some of the weird aliens that had invaded New York.

You see, you and your brother had more in common than most siblings did. Peter parker had been bitten by a radioactive spider on a school trip as was known to a few people. But, at the same time, you had been eighteen and chaperoning the field trip.

When peter had snuck off to the side you had gone after him. When he was bitten, so were you.

But for now, you had decided to try and stay away from the superhero lifestyle. But when the itch came, peter lent you his suit so you could scratch it.

You had helped him refine his web-fluid and had your own web shooters as well as one of his old suits just in case. May knew about you and peter after finding out a while ago. However, peter and you had kept everything about your existence from the avengers so you could live a semi-normal life. At least for now.

But the day the avengers were fighting off the aliens, New York had taken some heavy damage. You had been running a small illustration business out of your apartment in queens. Your apartment … which was now levelled in the fight was gone. Along with your business.

Since you had moved out young, May only had one spare bedroom in her apartment which peter was occupying. Leaving the Parker’s with one option.

As peter had a room in the avenger's tower, you could stay there or with aunt may. Peter being Peter didn’t want to ask tony if he could stay in the tower for the unforeseeable future without arousing questions. So, you had been secretly living in the tower for about three days now.

Peter brought you food and had bribed Jarvis to keep your existence a secret. You had his old suit if you wanted to leave the tower, you could swing away instead of walking through the building and getting caught.

It was a pretty solid plan and it had been working pretty well. Until the day you got sick.

Peters' bedroom in the tower was on the floor with the other avengers, meaning you had to be somewhat quiet so Natasha, clint or the others didn’t find you. But it had begun to get colder out, and Peters old suit didn’t have a heater. It had been made before tony had found out spiders, including peter and yourself, can't thermoregulate. And swinging around New York without a heater in the nippy winter air had left you with a pretty nasty cold.

Unlike peter your powers didn’t give you super healing. In fact, your powers differed from peters in more ways than one. For one thing you had small fangs which you could retract, they didn’t do much, but they were cool, and peter was mildly jealous. Another thing was you had taken on aspects of jumping spiders as you could jump higher due to your super strength and some weird spider quality peter lacked.

Like peter the bit had given your excellent eyesight, increased metabolism, a lack of thermoregulation, the weird sticky thing, the spider sense and super strength and the allergy to peppermint. But due to sharing the suit anytime you went out as “Spider-Man” you had to refrain from using your own unique powers, so you didn’t give anything away.

The thermoregulating thing may have finally come back to bite you now that you were in peters old suit. After taking one of his patrols for him so he could finish his assignment and you could get out of his room in the tower, the cold had made you sick. Heres the thing about having a high metabolism when you don’t have an increased healing factor. It went one of two ways. Either you had flash colds which were taken care of quickly and at a much faster rate than the average human, or if it was stronger than your immune system, it was quickly made into a bigger problem than it should have been due to your body processing things faster and speeding up its strength.

Anytime this had happened in the past, due to not being able to go to a regular hospital, you had thanked the gods for May choosing a career in nursing. Though she had been able to treat you superficially with regular medicine and not anything made for super soldiers or spiders as that was a Bruce banner specialty that was unique to the tower's med bay. So, you often just had to ride it out and if things got really bad, peter would try and smuggle you some of his medicine out of the tower for you.

So, this is where you ended up. Curled up in Peters bed in the tower, stifling rough sounding coughs into his pillow and making a mental note to wash his sheets soon. You were doing your best to remain quiet and not alert either of the super spies to your presence or any of the other avengers. You thanked Thor that only you and peter had super hearing which meant you could usually tell if someone was in the halls.

Feeling miserable you buried yourself further into the sheets and shivered, it was so cold but in reality, you probably had a high fever. Your lungs let out a wheezing noise whenever you exhaled, and you were beginning to think maybe your asthma was back. Unlike peter you had not been so lucky as to have had it cured by the bite.

Your asthma puffer was one of the few things that survived your apartment being destroyed. As you laid in bed feeling awful you thought back to that day.

You thanked the gods you had been out at the time. You had gone to a coffee shop downtown with your sketchbook, laptop and usual things you took out, including a range of art supplies and of course your emergency puffer which peter had managed to smuggle out which had doses that worked with your metabolism.

You were broken from your daydreams as another harsh coughing fit wracked your body. From what you could hear nobody was in the halls, but you did your best to keep quiet regardless. The wheezing that trailed after each breath was getting worse and your lungs were feeling tight.

You had been trying to use the puffer sparingly so it didn’t run out because you didn’t know if and or when peter could get you another. But as drawing breath grew harder you made the executive call to use it. You rolled over in the bed and threw an arm down to fish around for your red backpack. Finding it you fiddled with the zip before your fingers wrapped around the cool plastic of the device. Tony being tony had insisted it have a Spiderman case thinking it was peters which ended up being rather ironic as it was fitting for you too.

You tried fruitlessly one last time to draw breath before achieving nothing but a crackling wheeze. Screw it. You uncapped the red lid and held it to your lips, propping yourself up on an elbow in an attempt to sit u straight to take it.

You exhaled and inhaled repeating it once more before drawing in a lungful of the super-medicine. Almost straight away you began to feel better. Your fast metabolism speeding up the medicines process.

Feeling like you could breathe again you replaced the cap and put it on the nightstand before curling up in the sheets again feeling cold still but also slightly damp from the thin layer of sweat that had been forming all morning.

You were dressed in spider-man pjs which had a thin t-shirt and long pants. You had considered getting up to grab one of peters hoodies to get warm or another blanket but the idea of standing up made your head spin.

You nestled back into the sheets and let your eyes fall shut despite it being almost midday. The curtains were drawn and so it didn’t bother you too much. You began to drift off into a semi-peaceful sleep broken by harsh coughing fits which were becoming harder to stifle in your half asleep and fevered state.

Meanwhile the avengers had just finished their morning training session, one which Peter had joined for once. Peter being Peter had barely broken a sweat and as a result had opted to hang out on the communal floor while everyone went o freshen up.

Stark had designed the tower well. With Peter’s bedroom being on the same floor as Natasha’s who was rather protective of her younger spider counterpart as well as Wanda’s, Yelena’s, Kate’s and a few spares. The rest of the avengers were a floor above.

At first peter had been a bit miffed about being on a floor of just girls but he ended up liking it a lot. And he had a second bedroom in the master suite with tony and Pepper which he proffered anyway. The one on the avenger's floor was more for if Tony and Pepper were away, and he wanted to be around the others.

Natasha was headed for her room after waving goodbye to peter who had settled down to watch more star-wars, when she paused in the hallway.

Retracing her steps she found herself stood outside peters bedroom door. Frowning she pressed an ear to the door and froze. Someone was inside and coughing. Knowing it wasn’t peter, nat carefully twisted the door handle.

Peter being peter had prepared for almost anything. As soon as Natasha had set foot inside peters room Jarvis had alerted peter of her presence.

Meanwhile Natasha peered into the dimly lit room. The lump in the bed was wriggling around and coughing. Nat was on high alert by now. She realised this person was ill but how had they managed to get in without Jarvis knowing? And why were they in peters bed?

She crossed the threshold and walked over to the bed. Taking note of the backpack on the floor and puffer on the bedside table as well as your spider-man pjs which had been a gag gift from Peter last Christmas.

Nat stood and observed for a second. Looking down at your flushed face which was burning with fever and the harsh coughs that were wracking your weak form.

Nat watched helplessly for a second unsure of how to deal with a sick intruder.

She hesitated before extending a hand to your forehead and feeling a very high fever. She sucked a breath. Despite being an intruder she had some ideas as to why you may have been here. Your likeness to peter wasn’t hard to spot. Yet. She was unsure.

Peeling of the blankets to get a better look at you, as she did you made a small noise of discontent and curled into a shaking ball still fever addled and half asleep.

Before she could continue the door opened and peter looked in.

“Uhh M-Ms Romanoff…” Peter said looking guilty as he stepped in and closed the door again.

“Peter, do you know who this is?” Natasha asked getting straight to the point. Peter hesitated and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Y-yes.” He said looking at your sick form with a frown.

“Peter.” She said crossing her arms. “Care to share whats going on?” Nat said as she headed for Peter’s bathroom.

“Um… She … she’s,, my sister.” Peter said unsurely. Natasha returned after a second and nodded. Now holding the first aid kit from peters bathroom in her arms.

“Anything else i should know?” She asked walking over to the bed and sitting down to rifle through the first aid kit.

“Petey?” You mumbled hearing his voice.

Peter seemed to break out of his trance and came to your side. “I’m here Y/n.” He said.

“‘S cold.” You mumbled making peter frown.

“Actually, I think she has a fever.” Nat said as she found what she was looking for, pulling out a thermometer from the kit.

Nat gently placed the thermometer under your tongue and turned to look at peter.

“Pete, you’re not in trouble but i need some more information.” Natasha said.

“This is Y/n. She’s, my sister. Her apartment was levelled in the last attack and so she’s been staying here ever since. She’s not a threat I promise.” Peter said almost tripping over his words in order to explain.

Before Nat could respond the thermometer beeped and she removed it to look at the small screen, drawing another round of coughs from you. Natasha rubbed your back with one hand while frowning at the screen.

“Peter… she should be dead. This says 106. There’s more isn’t there.” Nat said with some urgency as she began peeling the rest of the blankets off you in an attempt to cool you down.

“Ahh … yes. She had powers. Like mine. She … she wears the suit sometimes.” Peter said standing nearby and watching with a worried expression.

“Ok. So, she has spider powers? High metabolism, super strength, etc.” Nat said and Peter nodded. “Why hasn’t her healing fixed this?” Nat said feeling your forehead again.

“She doesn’t have it. Her powers differ slightly.” Peter explained as Nat cursed softly in Russian.

“Her fever’s still rising.” Nat said making a decision. “We need to cool her down fast before she gets too hot for her own good. Jarvis?” Natasha said and peter looked panicked for a second worried about more people finding out about you.

“Ms Romanoff-“ he started.

“Pete, we need to cool her down stat. I need some help.” She said and peter nodded still looking nervous. “Jarvis call wanda to Peter’s bedroom.” Nat said and peter relaxed slightly. Wanda was ok. She would be good for the situation.

“What are you going to do?” Peter asked.

“She needs a bath and I doubt you want to do that.” She said with a small smirk and Peter flushed for a second.

“Defiantly not.” He said shaking his head.

“Is there someone we can call? Someone who she’d be ok with dressing her once we cool her down. She may be sick but i don’t want to invade her privacy.” Nat said as she scooped you up from the bed and into her lap while they waited for wanda to arrive. You cough harshly again and wheezed making nat frown and look to peter.

“Asthma.” He said.

“Runs in the family huh?” She joked reaching over for the puffer on the bedside table.

“Uh… about that.” Peter said looking guilty. “Mine was cured by the bite. I need the puffers for her.” He said looking sheepish. Expecting Nat to be mad she grinned.

“You’re a good brother.” She said as she uncapped the device and pressed it to your lips.

“Exhale.” She instructed and by some small miracle you complied. When you went to inhale, she administered the medicine and told you to hold.

Recapping the device, she rubbed a hand up and down your arm. “Good job sweetie.” She said and felt you relax into her arms some more as you let out a breath.

The two sat in silence for another second before the door opened again and wanda slipped inside.

She was freshly showered, her hair damp and she smelt like jasmine and honey. She was dressed in a simple faded black t-shirt and grey track pants.

“Whats-“ she began before pausing, her eyes caught on you laid in Natashas lap half asleep.

“Wanda,” Nat said. “Meet Y/n. Peter’s older sister.” She said.

“Okay…” Wanda said looking lost before her expression morphed to concern as you coughed. “Is she ok?” Wanda asked.

“No. That’s why you’re here. Long story short, peter smuggled her into the tower, and she has spider powers and her fever is really high. We need to cool her down.” Nat said and wanda swallowed and nodded. “Peter?” Nat said turning to the younger parker.

“Yes?” He said looking up from where he had been studying his shoes closely.

“You never answered my question. Is there someone we can call to come and get her dressed after wanda and i bathe her?” Nat asked and peter blushed again and nodded.

“I can call May. It’s her day off.” He said and Nat nodded.

“You do that. Wanda and I will look after Y/n. We promise not to go further than her outer clothes.” She said and scooped you up into her arms. She headed for Peter’s bathroom with wanda trailing behind. You remained limp in her arms snuggled into her chest in an unconscious need for companionship.

Once the two redheads had you in the bathroom wanda looked at nat. “Now what?” She asked and Natasha smirked.

“Now we take her clothes off.” She said and gently she lifted your arms from where you were laid on the floor in her lap and pulled the spider-man t-shirt off over your head. Wanda blushed slightly at the sight of your red sports bra despite having seen Nat and herself train in about the same if not less clothes.

“You wanna help?” Nat asked with a grin that only served to make Wanda’s blush deepen. You squirmed slighting in Nat’s lap but stopped when she gently rubbed your arm after you buried your warm face into her stomach.

Wanda rolled her eyes in an attempt to feign nonchalance despite being way past that point.

She lifted her hands, and the familiar red glow of magic surrounded her hands. Her magic lifted your hips so Nat could slide off your pants. Wanda blushed again at the sight of your Black Widow boxers. Natasha however grinned at them finding it both adorable and very cute.

After a beat Wanda met Nat’s eyes again. “Now what?”

“We get her in the bath. She needs to be cooled down Asap.” Nat said hoisting you into her arms again as you wriggled, turning and grumbling into her chest.

“Not gonna lie she’s pretty cute.” Nat said and Wanda avoided her eyes as she used her magic to fill the bath with tepid water.

Natasha gently lowered you into the tub ignoring your whining protests and running her hands through your hair which seemed to calm you down as you relaxed again.

“So … now we wait?” Wanda guessed and Natasha nodded.

“Yep. Unless you really want to steal May’s job of getting her dressed again.” Nat teased making Wanda splutter slightly. “Im kidding.” Nat said. “I know what hot women do to your brain.” She winked and wanda slouched slightly.

After a second you grumbled and blearily opened your eyes, squinting at the two women.

“Peter is so dead.” You mumbled before letting your eyes drift shut again. There was a pause before wanda and nat both started laughing.

You groaned. “Peter!” You yelled before coughing again making Wanda and Nat frown. But before they could do anything the door opened to show a beat red peter with his hands covering his eyes.

“Yes?” He said in a small voice.

“When I get out of here, you’re dead.” You mumbled with a foggy glare sent in his direction.

“Hey. Peter did the right thing.” Another voice said from behind Peter.

“May?” You called. “Oh, wtf is going on right now.” You mumbled.

“Whats going on kiddo is that, once again, you failed to ask for help which landed you here.” May said entering the bathroom with a change of clothes.

“Nice to see you Ms Parker.” Nat said and wanda echoed.

“Please. Call me May. And thank you for looking after her.” May said and you groaned.

“I hate all of you.” You said hiding your face in your hands.

“Uh huh. Sure, you do.” May teased.

“It was no problem. Ms- May.” Wanda said. “We’ll wait in peters bedroom while you… yeah.” Wanda said before making a hasty retreat. Nat laughed and followed her out.

May gave you a disappointed frown once she had shut the door and turned back to you with a sigh.

“Honey.” She said.

“I know… I know.” You said still feeling like death but slightly less so. “Did the black widow and scarlet witch just really see me in my underpants?” You asked.

“Yes, and I serves you right for hiding illness … again!” She said as she came over, rolling up her sleeves and helping you out, practically holding all your weight for you as your head spun.

May frowned and guided you over to the covered toilet seat to dress you again.

Gently she began to towel you off and change you into fresh clothes.

“I can do it myself.” You whined but May shot you a look and you knew better than to challenge the angry Parker and you and peter had called her as kids when she was upset at you for something.

“Now, once you’re dressed you are going to thank those two for their kindness and your coming home with me.” May said.

“But-“ you began.

“No buts.” She said and helped you up, now fully dressed.

She helped you over to the door opening it despite still holding you up. The two of you shuffled into the room where Peter, Nat and Wanda were sat on Peter’s bed talking in hushed voices.

“Pete. I love you but I can hear everything you’re saying dumbass.” You said rolling your eyes and May lightly hit your arm.

“Right.” He said rubbing his neck. “Super hearing.” He nodded.

“I’ll add it to the list.” Nat grinned and you groaned before May jabbed you in the side and looked at the two girls.

You coughed at her actions making her frown but quickly got it under control for the sake of your already fragile image.

“Thank you, Wanda and Natasha, for helping me.” You said still leaning heavily on May. Now you had been standing for a bit the room began to spin. Your face went a shade paler making Natasha frown and stand. It was a split second before you stumbled, almost bringing May down with you in the process. Luckily strong arms wrapped around you, and you looked up into Nat’s pale green and worried eyes.

“Y/n?” You finally registered she was talking to you. “Y/n?” She asked again a little louder.

You let out a soft groan and she huffed. “Right. Up we go.” She said hoisting you into your arms and making the room spin again as you buried your face in her arm.

You felt her gently set you down on the bed and feel your forehead.

Distantly you heard May saying something along the lines of taking you home and the sound of Natasha arguing they were better equipped to help with your powers and sickness. May relented and you went back to dozing.

“What happened?” Peter asked from where he was stood by the door.

“Probably got too dizzy from standing up. Her body’s already trying to fight off sickness.” Natasha said and Wanda nodded.

“Peter? Don’t you have a super high metabolism?” Wanda asked.

“Yeah?” He said looking lost as May seemed to catch on.

“Y/n when did you last eat?” May asked and you groaned and buried your face in the pillow. “Well, that answers that.” May said rolling her eyes.

“Peter, do you have any of those energy bars that steve uses?” Wanda asked and peter nodded and headed for his bedside drawer.

He fished around and pulled out one of them and passed it to nat. She unwrapped it and shoved it into your hands.

“Eat.” She said and you made a groan of protest. “It’ll help.” She said in a softer tone.

“Fine.” You said sitting up against the headboard and nibbling on it slowly.

“Better.” Nat said and you frowned.

“You know you’re cute when you’re mad.” Wanda said looking surprised by her own words and blushing at Natasha’s knowing gaze.

“Get some rest маленький паук” Nat said once you had finished eating, and she begun to shepherd everyone out of the room.

PART 2

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dilfsonic · 1 month

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oh boy. seeing a very large Sonadow blog go out of their way to paint every single nsfw or suggestive artist in a nasty, nasty light in this fandom because they believe aging up is the root of all evil and not at all an extremely valid and natural thing that happens, particularly if you were a child when you got into this franchise and mentally were aging up characters in your head as you were getting older because there is nothing more natural than to want to see your favorite characters in new stages of their lives.

do they think the writers and artists behind Archie are p*dophilic freaks too for their “30 years later” arc that very clearly depicts that “everyone grew up and boned and had children with each other”?

absolutely laughable. I’m sure these people aren’t handling any story involving growing up or navigating adulthood well whatsoever, because god forbid characters ever age and experience age-appropriate change or stories as a result. sorry but I am extremely worried for your literacy if you take issue with this.

#anyway im literally dilfsonic so im sure the people who think like this have steered very very clear of my blog LMAO #but this is such a childishly black and white frame of thinking #I can’t help but be concerned that they would argue that ‘the curtains are blue for no reason’

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iwishf1wasreal · 1 month

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F1 Driver NSFW Profile: ✷ Lewis Hamilton ✷

smut ✷ 18+ readers only

I. Flirt. He’s a shy sort of suave. He wants to come off cool and laid back. Thank God he never has to worry if he’s dressed well. Lewis is all about eye contact, making sure to look over the frame of whatever sunglasses he’s wearing so he can hold your gaze. It’ll be hard for him to look away; maybe he’ll keep your eyes for as long as he can by looking back or walking backward. He’ll flash his million-dollar smile at you; make sure you know he’s noticed you too. If there are cameras around, he’s pretty much going to stand 40 feet away from you, but if it’s amongst the trusted inner circle or just the two of you, he is stuck to you like glue. When you first meet, he’s flirty in a relaxed sense; it won’t come across as him being particularly interested, just friendly. He takes his time sussing you out and getting a feel for you. But once he’s ready to make his intentions known, he’s laying on the charm. Making you laugh, taking any excuse to brush against you. II. Propositioning. Warm hands caressing down your back, spending a generous amount of time on your ass before smoothing down your calves. He’ll peck kisses anywhere he can reach, his endless brown eyes meeting yours as his lips roam your body. Lewis wants to seduce and be seduced. He likes kissing–[loves] kissing. Has a hard time having sex [without] kissing. He wants your tongue hot and heavy in his mouth. Lewis likes to tease too. If the mood strikes and you start to put the moves on him, he'll play dumb. Straight up pretends not to notice, wait and see how far you’ll go before you push him down onto the sofa and straddle him.

III. Libido. It’s relatively high, but he’s also creeping up to his forties. Don’t get me wrong, he has no trouble getting (or maintaining) an erection, but it takes him a bit longer to get him up and ready…especially if it’s a night after drinking. So, he doesn’t mind a bit of soft play, whether it's your mouth or the soft glide of your hand. He’s not too picky. He feels so much closer to his partner during and after sex. Lewis feels like there’s no other connection in the world like it and would probably even be down to try sex magic if you were into that kind of thing.

IV. Turn-Ons: tame & nasty. Tame: Expensive clothes. When you hold him close to whisper in his ear. Laughing with your head thrown back. A nice fitting pair of trousers. Pretty, fast cars. Private beaches and cabanas. Outdoor showers. Spoiling you. Facetime calls to show him what you’re wearing. Getting along with his mum and step-mum. Having inside jokes with his brother. Fitting right into a game of footy with his nieces and nephews. Musicality in any way, shape, or form. Shy silliness that he gets to draw out of you. Diamonds on bare skin. Nasty: When he fucks you so good you can’t even get out a moan, and it looks like you’re having a sexy exorcism. Pulling your panties to the side instead of just pulling them off. Lowkey always wants to get caught; fucks you with the windows of your cabana wide open, or herds you into the single stall. Tender love and care to his balls. When you tell him that his dick is the best you’ve ever had. Receiving unsolicited your nudes. Mutual masturbation. Lingerie sets with lace bras and satin panties. The way your ass kinda makes a heart-shape in certain positions of doggy. Titties in his mouth. Topless beaches with wandering hands. V. Self-stimulation. Ideally, he would be able to Facetime you, and you could figure out a solution together. He'll use a video if the timezone doesn’t permit that, and he’s not desperate enough to wake you or disturb you at work. He can still appreciate porn, but if he wants to finish, he’d prefer to do it to you. VI. Foreplay. He almost pays too much attention to foreplay. It’s like he’s in some kind of competition with himself to see how wet he can make you before he finally slips inside. As he’s come into adulthood, he’s realised how powerful the act of cunnilingus is. He has his own version of getting drunk off your sex, usually in the form of semi-incoherent philosophical babbles of how we’re all connected and how beautiful your pussy is.

VII. Rhythm. He likes to keep it fresh but prefers deep, unhurried sex. Taking your time getting to know each other and savouring the feeling of the two of you together. He’s not afraid to moan or let his nastiest thoughts roll off his tongue. Most often he’ll be asking how it feels, for you to be louder. He likes egging you on. VIII. How He Likes It He’s a classic man. Doggy has a special place in his heart. He likes plenty of other positions, too, of course. But there’s just something about getting to watch your ass shake as he disappears inside you. You bent over, wet and moaning and rutting back against him. Rarely do you get to feel like you have the upper hand on him–he’s got lightning fast reflexes, strength and confidence that often make you feel like he’s not even real. Except in the bedroom and he has your front pressed into the bed and you start to work to throw your hips back to meet his thrusts. He nearly busts right then and there every time.

IX. Location, location, location. A hopeless romantic, ideally, he’d have rose petals all over the floor and candles littering the entire place. But that’s not always feasible, though he still tells you it’s what you deserve. And though he’d deny it, ducking his head to hide the burning on his cheeks but the hot tub seems to hold a special place in his heart. To the point where his buddies will point and giggle at it the second you’re aboard a yacht for the week or they notice it on the balcony through the curtains. Somehow, they always seem to be one on your holidays or hotel rooms. And you both do you best to use it to the best of your abilities. X. Kinky. He’s open minded and easy to approach. He likes experimenting when he feels safe and he feels safest with you. Depending on the mood, he can be gently encouraging, complimenting and worshipping you into bliss. Or, he can be a little more demanding, a little less lenient and a little more mean. He’s good at playing. He likes playing…as long as you seem like you are too. Any fantasy you feel like trying, he’s all ears. Rarely will he outright deny you–about most things–especially sex.

XI. Bedroom aids/Toys He’s not stupid, obviously you use toys whilst he’s away or busy. He doesn’t mind adding them in with the both of you either. It really only took one time for him to watch your eyes roll back in your head after just two minutes on the second to highest setting. Lately, his latest exploration in the bedroom has involved plugs. Nothing gets his heart pumping blood to his crotch quite like when you bend over and reveal you’ve decided to surprise him with one. Something about the shimmer of something in your ass while he sheeths himself deep inside you feels like ecstasy.

XII. Cum. He can go for a while. He’s old enough where he doesn't need to lay back and think of England. He would prefer to finish after you though with the ferocity of your sex life, it’s quite literally always a competition to get others to cum first. Ideally, he’d finish inside of you but obviously sometimes that’s not always fisable. Though, more than enough times have you two snuck off for a quickie and you’re left uncomfortably wet in your panties after.

XIII. Pleasure reciprocation. Lewis loves to go down on you. Likes hearing all your moans and whines and any other noise he can get you to make. When his focus is on you and getting you to cum, he turns into an assertive yet gentle figure. He has plans for you, he’d like for you to follow them. But he’s not above giving into your desperation or gently teasing you for how worked up you get. He can teeter more towards mean when he feels like it though rarely can keep it up. By the time you’ve finished, he’s melted back into his true self. Making sure you’re not too far gone or nothing got too out of hand. Despite it all though, he makes you feel like he’s hungry for you. Like just the site of you or your body could drive him wild enough to cloud all his thoughts.

XIV. Bonus.

“I wanna show you something,” Lewis tells you, head down with his eyes focused on his phone. You approach him in the living room but don't make it to him before the TV on the wall above him blinks on. It shows the generic home display before it goes black again. But it's only for a moment. Then, a grainy, night vision video starts to play.

It takes you a moment to realise what is. It’s not until you hear the video playback what sounds like Lewis’ laugh. On screen, now in clear view of the camera, you dragged Lewis to one of the outdoor sofas. Suddenly, you recognize everything in the video.

It from the boat trip you took a few weeks ago, traipsing around Greece with some friends before Lewis had to get back in race mode for the foreseeable future. It was late, all your friends had gone to bed and the crew had been tipped heavily to give you some privacy on deck.

You’re standing there watching yourself, watching your mouth meet his and moan in pleasure. In person, you don’t realise he’s even standing behind you until a gentle hand on your middle startles you out of your gaze.

“You remember that?” he asks softly, with a small nod towards the TV. You nod, letting out a distracted ‘mmhmm’ as you keep your eyes on the screen. His other hand meets your other side, palms softly caressing against the t-shirt you wore.

Back on the boat, you had already pulled Lewis free from the confines of his joggers. You were on the floor, on your knees. Even with the state of the art speakers Lewis had installed, you can’t make out what he’s saying to you on video. Just the soft rasp of his voice as he eggs you on.

“How did you get this?” you ask, your throat dry. You had taken him into your mouth on the boat, Lewis throwing his head back in pleasure on screen. It was nice to see him–actually see what he looked like while you gave him head. Up close was one thing, but watching the effect you had on him has your insides somersaulting.

“I told you I’d have them get rid of the footage.”

Neither of you were stupid. You both knew something as risky as this would require some damage control but Lewis promised you he’d take care of it.

“Yes, but how do you have it?” you gulp after a particularly loud moan vibrates off the screen.

Lewis doesn’t answer you, just laughs softly as he moves to start placing kisses on your neck. His hands move from your waist, roaming over your arms, then your shoulders. The roughness of his skin against the softness of your skin feels euphoric. But he stops the motion all too soon, one his hands clasping over each of your wrists. In front of you, your past self is already mounting your boyfriend, his hands eager to expose your breasts from the bikini you were wearing.

Loud, lewd sounds fill the room, echoing off the TV and bathing the both of you in a symphony of your own moans. You can feel Lewis’ breath against your neck, his hands still holding your wrists. You watch as his hand slipped over your core, pads of his fingers finding the perfect spot to send you over the edge. The sight of it makes you hotter, your skin starting to feel clammy and stomach somersaulting. Instinctively, you lean further back into Lewis, trying to instinctually rut yourself against him for some kind of relief.

But he’s not taking any of it. Just tightens his grip on your wrists and moves so you can’t roll your hips back against him.

The sounds on the TV get loud. You can hear the sound of your bodies meeting amongst the huffs and moans. It doesn’t matter how much you beg, how pathetically you mewl at Lewis to let you do something. He doesn’t care. Doesn’t even really let you look at him. At best you can get is the cocky smirk and devious gleam in his eyes before he’s gathering both your wrists in one hand and fixing your gaze ahead by your chin.

Your heart feels like its beating out of your chest. Your skin is sticking to your clothes, working up a sweat from how hot you feel underneath your clothes. Lewis makes you watch the whole thing like that. Forced to watch both orgasms he gave you. Forced to listen to the defeated sigh of satisfaction Lewis gives as you pulled yourself off of him. Forced to watch the glistening trail of yourselves that even the shitty security camera could pick up sliding down your leg.

You don’t even have to move to tell how wet you are once the TV finally turns off. Looking (and feeling) like you’re in a trance, Lewis chuckles proudly and presses a kiss to your hair.

“Now, go upstairs. Take all your clothes off. And wait for me.” He says, pressing one more kiss to your temple. He pulls away just a touch so he can look you in the eyes. “But do not touch yourself.” He taps his pointer finger to the tip of your nose and pats your ass as your single to get moving.

You do as you're told and head upstairs. Meanwhile, Lewis gets working on some drinks for the pair of you. He only gets as far as pulling his mock-Tequilas from the cabinet before he hears what at first sounds like your phone going off. But the buzzing he hears through the upstairs floor doesn’t stop. He freezes in place to listen. The buzzing keeps going, far longer than any ringtone would.

As soon as he realises what you’re doing, he drops what he’s doing and makes a break for the stairs. You can hear him calling your name through the bedroom door as he takes them to at a time to get to you.

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton imagine #f1 x reader #f1 smut #f1blr #lewis writers are very good pls dont hate me if its bad thank u

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caligvlasaqvarivm · 4 months

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Wanted to ask, is Eridan's relationship with his dad ok? Like when Eridan was learning how to use his harpoon gun he seemed very much distressed and not enjoying any of it

The only real canon characterization we have of seahorsedad is that the version of him that's Cronus's lusus is "stern, fatherly" and that he ditches Cronus for Hussie, although that last one is mostly just a Bit so I don't really count it as characterization. He's also willing to go along with Eridan "doing something ridiculous," though, again, that's kind of a Bit and it's unclear how canon that is.

((cw for abuse and stuff beneath the readmore))

As such, pretty much anything I say is going to be pure extrapolation that serves my characterization of Eridan, and I can't really back it up with hard textual evidence. But, personally, I think Eridan believes his relationship with his lusus is "good" in the way that many children growing up beneath strict, emotionally neglectful, and even outright abusive parents do.

We know that Eridan has very few friends. He doesn't even really talk to half the people in their group chat, and according to Feferi, he's never spent more than a few days underwater, total, in his whole life. Add onto that that lusus murder (and, by extension, the culling of the orphaned troll) has been his duty long enough that he describes it is "the only thing i evver did," I think it's a reasonable assumption to make that he also has no IRL friends, aside from Feferi.

And to give an idea of how old Eridan was when he started having to murder lusii, here's how old Vriska was when she was expected to start feeding spidermom:

This, and the fact that Dualscar was called "Orphaner" because the job of feeding Gl'bgolyb was his even into adulthood (as he lived before the Summoner's rebellion and the removal of adult trolls from Alternia), and the fact that no one, including Feferi, ever shows any gratitude towards Eridan for performing the job, supports the idea that feeding Gl'bgolyb has always been a violet blood's responsibility. After all, Feferi makes overtures about not being better than other trolls, but she sure does revel in being royalty when she can get away with it. It'd be in character for her to not be particularly grateful to Eridan because she sees lusus murder as fundamentally being his responsibility, especially if he started when they were both REALLY young.

In other words, Eridan was expected to start murdering lusii (and by extension, other trolls) from the moment he was old enough to do so, which, judging by how old Vriska was when she started killing trolls for Spidermom, is not very old at all.

Also, given the lifespan of violet bloods, it's entirely possible - and my personal belief - that Seahorsedad was Dualscar's lusus as well as Eridan's. Even without that being the case, since it was always Eridan's job to hunt and kill lusii, the biggest possible culprit for inducting him into his role would be his lusus.

And let's be clear, I think the fact that having to murder lusii/trolls is the biggest culprit for what's fucked Eridan up the most. The pressure of having the safety of the entire race on his shoulders, the fear of Gl'bgolyb and what happens if he ever fails, and the guilt of taking lives (which we do know Eridan thinks about) have left him with genuine struggles caring about other people, a nasty martyr complex (which isn't unjustified), extremely unstable and negative emotions, shattered interpersonal relationships, and a deep, nihilistic sense of resignation towards his place in society. The latter has directly led to him attempting to embrace that place by tricking himself into thinking he believes in hemocasteist, sea dweller supremacy rhetoric - which his actions contradict - because, without the game's intervention, he had no other options available for him but to become a key figure in the imperial army, continue murdering other sapient creatures until he died, and watch all his few friends die before him, either when they got culled, killed on the battlefield, or purely dropped dead of old age.

And, like... a parent who does that to their child, even if we assume the absolute best (that Seahorsedad does genuinely care about Eridan), can't possibly have a fully healthy relationship with said child. And I think it's not unreasonable to assume that the best is not what's happening between Eridan and Seahorsedad, because Eridan's psychological profile is so fucked up that I highly doubt he was receiving much, if any, actual affection or support from his lusus. Personally, I think his lusus was "stern and fatherly" in the worst possible way - high expectations, no emotional warmth, and complete disregard for Eridan's psychological well-being, as long as he was producing adequate results.

Because Eridan craves attention, and has very little distinction between good and bad attention. He's naive and trusting to a fault, hardly ever suspects anybody of lying to him, and has basically no social skills. These all say to me that Seahorsedad is just, like... not giving him any emotional attention at ALL.

And poor Eridan is just 13 years old - still too young to fully realize how poorly he's being treated by people who are supposed to care about him. Like, yeah, he's completely obnoxious and exhausting to talk to, and you can't really blame Feferi or Kanaya for being sick of listening to him, but at the same time, some of the shit they do to him as a result is honestly just mean. Like Kanaya is just actually bullying him- training him up to be a wizard as a joke, shitting on him behind his back with Rose, making fun of him to his face - and yet:

He's just that fucking desperate for people to care about him and support him; I can't help but think he's just not getting that at home, you know?

So I think if you asked Eridan, he'd say that his relationship with his lusus was good, and that his lusus was proud and noble and stoic, and absolutely a great custodian, and there were no problems at all.

But I think if you were to dig deeper into their relationship, you'd start to hear worrying things like that Eridan never got to celebrate Twelfth Perigrees, and was instead dragged out to go lusus hunting because it was particularly easy to do so on that day. Or that his lusus had to pull the trigger FOR him the first time they ever went hunting, because his own hands were shaking too hard. Or that he'd be locked out of the hive every time he cried, until he stopped crying altogether. Or that he thinks he's never been sick a day in his life because he was never allowed to have an off day and not go hunting and now he's just used to ignoring any and all symptoms. So on and so forth.

He reacts EXTREMELY POORLY to Feferi saying she feels like she needed to look after him - more poorly than to the initial news that she was trying to break up with him:

And I think that's because weakness was punished in his household growing up. He wasn't allowed to be weak - he was nobility, royalty. He had duties, responsibilities. If he faltered, their whole race died. And when you consider the fact that "you have to kill things for the good of everyone you care about, all the time, constantly," is the abject lesson that's been hammered into him since he was old enough to walk and talk, the fact that he's so incredibly fucking adamant about murdering angels starts to be a little... sad. He's just stuck in that mindset. He doesn't know how to escape it.

So... yeah. In summary: his relationship with his dad is great!

#homestuck #eridan ampora

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wordy-little-witch · 2 months

Text

Brainrot is kicking in, work has me by the throat, I am so tired

Enter: self indulgent sillies

Shanks and Buggy both were kidnapped very often as children - be it by Marines, enemy pirates, Whitebeard on occasion, random ass guys targeting two unattended children, whatever.

They both have gotten so desensitized to it that they don't even get scared anymore. It becomes more "I'm not held here with you, you're stuck here with ME" type of situation.

Buggy is sassy, snarky, rude and sarcastic. Shanks pops in now and again with some completely out of pocket shit that sends Buggy into hysterics. Think that scene from Helluva Boss with Blitzø and Moxxie being kidnapped.

This complete lack of care extends well into their adulthood - Shanks because it's honestly kind of funny that someone had the audacity to try him, Buggy because sarcasm and sass is his defense mechanism.

Enter: Cross Guild.

Marines try an infiltration mission to Cross Guild, but they severely underestimated the organization. Mihawk was off island at the time, so they thought that the biggest powerhouse who could identify them via observation haki was gone. Buggy notices immediately both because his haki is oversensitive and he's gotten scarily good at reading body language. Crocodile, when informed, proposes they give the squadron what they want with interest.

A series of unfortunate events lead to Buggy and some of the crew shackled and in the plaza. Buggy's got seastone cuffs on wrists and feet both, and has failed to mention the mini transponder in his hair piece. The Marines made the mistake of cuffing him behind his back, thinking it would limit his knife skills. They don't know that Buggy's anxiety and paranoia has lead to him having a secret pin in his boots specifically to pick locks.

Buggy then proceeds to roast the men with all he's got while he works.

The others present are both confused and fighting laughter as the commanding officer gets more and more pissed off before he finally backhands Buggy dark enough to split his lip. Then a hand clutches his throat, lifting him slightly. Buggy splutters. The marine grins, a nasty thing, demands Buggy apologizes, complaining about the blood on his white sleeve. Buggy tries to speak and can't from the lack of air.

"Oh," the officer coos, "what is it? Finally going to beg forgiveness?" He loosens his grip just enough for Buggy to get some air, lowers enough for the other to go on tiptoes to get a strangled breath. Buggy cracks an eye open, a smile blooming on his face.

"H-Harder, daddy~"

The Marine drops him in disgust.

No matter what they try, Buggy has a come back. Crocodile is listening in, and Mihawk, upon arriving back, has joined him to avoid the navy presence. They're both a bit stunned, a little intrigued, and mayhap rethinking some preconceived notions of the clown.

Especially when there's sound over the transponder snail, a little clink, thump, a shout, and something wet.

"Well," Buggy's voice carries over. "Who's next? Come on, I haven't got all day, you already made me miss two appointments, you dull Neanderthals."

There's a sound like a sword being drawn, a war cry, and Buggy chuckles. "Ohh. You're stupid, huh? That's okay, Buggy likey dumby~"

Turns out even in seastone cuffs, even in twice as much as a typical pirate or criminal wears, Buggy is more than capable of taking out a squadron. He uses his surroundings to his advantage, fighting dirty and taunting them playfully, much to the admiration of the other's present. One cuff is off his wrist, but three more are still on him, cutting off his powers. He still manages to not get cut until the near end.

Even then, it's because one of the stragglers tried attacking his chained subordinates. Buggy gets a cut to the cheek, mild and harmless, maybe needing stitches, but he's furious. "No no no," he grits out, "You're playing with me right now." A stolen sword sinks into an opening with ease. Buggy leans in close. "Don't you ever fucking touch my children. Understand?"

No response. Buggy shifts the sword. There's a scream.

"Understand?"

"Y-yes..."

"Yes what?"

"Y-yes... s-sir."

Buggy snorts. "I was looking for your majesty." Then he yanks the blad up and out, leaving the body to slump to the ground. He turns to the few remaining. "Well?"

Buggy handles it on his own, the followers are even MORE fanatic, and Crocodile and Mihawk are facing a sudden and unexpected paradigm shift while watching Buggy happily eat a bowl of ice cream, kicking his feet happily and simply vibing like it's a typical Tuesday afternoon.

#buggy the clown #buggy headcanons #one piece #cross guild #cross guild polycule #competent buggy #badass buggy #oversensitive observation haki my beloved

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 4 months

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AITA for not supporting my best friend? (tw: suicide mention, sexual stuff)

so I(24 F2M) and my best friend Kat(28 F, not real name) used to date for 12 years, so a pretty long relationship and pretty much all of our teenhood and adulthood so far. We've lived together since I turned 18. About six months ago Kat left me for someone else she'd met, Carla(26 F). It was a nasty breakup but we made up and decided to remain best friends afterwards. I'm still very heartbroken over this, but I've tried to sit it aside for Kat's sake. Kat has since moved out to live with Carla but we still live close to each other and spend a lot of time together.

Our entire relationship, physical affection was a low. We tried having sex, but it ended up not working out and we refrained from doing anything else. A few years into living together we started sleeping in separate beds, and there was no kissing or cuddling. That was fine, I didn't want to pressure her into doing anything. The instant Kat and Carla started dating, she would not stop talking about how much she wanted to fuck her, hold her, and kiss her. Now that they're living together, it's all I hear. All of our conversations tend to be about Carla one way or the other. And that's fine, everyone needs a friend to chat to about their life, it was just hard for me to balance all this while still nursing a broken heart and feeling inadequate for being inexperienced.

I tried to tell Kat that these conversations were making me uncomfortable, but it made her angry. She was upset that our relationship had degraded to the point where we couldn't speak frankly about what was on our minds, and that I understand. I let her resume in earnest. I admit fault in this - after we broke up, I basically became a shut in. I have severe depression and I've attempted multiple times before, so I stopped communicating altogether for a while out of grief. I wasn't there for Kat when I should have been.

I ended up having a psychotic break that long story short ended in an attempt, and landed me in the hospital. Kat and Carla came to see me and sat with me for a while, and the conversation turned to their plans for marriage and children. Carla left for work and Kat continued on without her. I wasn't in the best state of mind, and I snapped at her that I don't want to hear this right now and that Kat constantly talking about her relationship with Carla with me wasn't helping me out. I didn't explicitly say it played a part in my attempt because I didn't want to send the message that I would have killed myself if Kat left me(it was multiple compounding reasons that resulted in the break that led to the attempt), but I may have sent that implication regardless. Kat seemed hurt, and I apologized and asked to be alone.

She then blew up at me, cursing me out, saying I was a horrible friend for not supporting her in her life and plans, that I was the one I she could trust and now she can't tell me anything because I'd react this way. It devolved into an argument where I admitted to her that I can't stand her talking about Carla so much and that while I understand if she chose her over me, I was still mourning the future I had with Kat and needed time to grieve. Things calmed down, Kat said she understood, and we had a few talks in-between nurse visits that eventually turned back into her talking about Carla in sexual detail. I just accepted at the time, but once I was discharged and tried to go back to living my life, I stopped talking to Kat more and more. She still leaves walls of text messages about her and Carla that I now ignore.

Where I might be the asshole: Ignoring Kat and getting upset about her trying to share her life with me post breakup. I don't like how I behaved and I should have supported her more than I did. She was in a period of her life where she needed me and wanted someone to share her joy with and I tried to take that away from her. I also might have implied that I attempted due to her leaving me for Carla.

Where I might not be the asshole: I wasn't in my right mind for a great deal of this, and Kat could have been more gentle with me when I was recovering from the attempt. I wouldn't outright call her an asshole for her behavior, I don't honestly think she did anything wrong - I agreed to talking with her about her life and supporting her, she was only utilizing that. Carla has absolutely nothing to do with this otherwise, and she's actually quite nice herself.

So, am I the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #suicide cw

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bogleech · 9 days

Note

We know that new Arthropoids can be made by fusing an individual human with an insect specimen. But what does this process actually look like?

Is it fast, slow? Gradual or sudden? Uncomfortable? Do you hole up in a cocoon, or do you keep going to work? How much of the person's identity is retained - and who opts for a thing like this, anyway?

P.S: thanks for answering my Mortasheen questions!

In the earliest concepts for the Mortasheen world it was exactly like "The Fly;" you just get zapped in a machine and instantly fused. It kind of still works that way but it's more complicated. It still works on normal humans, but it's more commonly a Sectilian, a lineage of metahumans who are the keepers of the tech itself and already born with countless Arthropod genomes. When they near adulthood they begin to undergo a nasty metamorphosis and even form into a fleshy cocoon, which will die unless it can be fused with just the right species of Arthropod. They know which one they're "meant" to fuse with as it begins to haunt their dreams more and more throughout their youth. If successful they'll emerge from the process with part of themselves "swapped" with the bug, like the original Fly.

This retains their entire mind, and they have a permanent mental link with the counterpart bug, which now has some of their parts, and naturally lives as long as they do. It's just kind of a remote extension of their body.

If they were not a Sectilian (some other metahuman, or a regular human) or they're paired with the "wrong" Arthropod, then they become a fully merged hybrid monster, like the newer Fly

Arthropoid monsters are mentally much less human, with only fragmented/dim memories of their former life overwhelmed by appropriate new directives such as "spin webs to catch food" or "hide inside dead trees," though they'll generally still be loyal to anyone they were close to before.

Arthropoids can also mate, reproduce and make little baby versions of themselves, so the vast majority that exist are not the products of fusion, but fusion IS necessary to create an entirely new "species line" for them. Mortasheen is a setting full of mad biologists so there are plenty of people who would do this for the sheer scientific discovery of it or because being a big bug under a big rock just sounds like a cool life. Becoming the first member of an entirely new monster variety also has some mystique to it, so even among Sectilians it's not always seen as a "failure." They may resort to it in order to live when they can't find the right personal bug, or they may prefer it because full Arthropoids are physically a lot more powerful/dangerous and they want to be able to protect their family clans. Current official art of 2 Sectilians compared with equivalent Arthropoids:

#mortasheen #art

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radiance1 · 7 months

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Rearing all the way back to my I think first eastern dragon Danny au post? Yea the first one.

So, we'll say that Clockwork never reversed the Nasty Burger explosion, leaving Danny devastated. The Observants feared he would turn into Dark Danny, but he doesn't, instead he throws his all in everything that's been going on in the ghost zone under Pariah's absence.

There was nothing tying him to humanity anymore, so he shed his identity as Daniel Phantom, and was reborn anew as Danny Phantom.

The Eternal Prince of the Ghost Zone.

He threw himself into everything there was to know about being a prince, etiquette training, learning the history of the Ghost Zone (which isn't really that important since there was only ever one ruler for a long, long time.), connecting with the high society of the ghost, etc, etc.

So he's shed his time as a child and forced his way into adulthood, face cold and regal like the ice he controls, and endless majesty with his draconic features, multiplied even further when he transforms.

Surprisingly, Vlad easily and willingly submitted to him (not through combat) after Danny made the phoenix his Duke, the Nasty Burger explosion must've hit him hard as it did Danny, then.

Then he's summoned to another dimension, a ritual meant to summon the Ghost King, and usually it wouldn't work, since Pariah Dark is sleeping. But since he came into power as Prince, it decided to do the next best thing and pull him along.

Unfortunately, however, he couldn't go back for some reason. So he just, had to stay here until he found a way to go back, and the cult wasn't anything that great, just wanted the usual power and riches in exchange for the souls of others and the like.

Then a group of humans broke in, fought the cult, and whatever being they were expecting was probably not him, and yes, he gets it. Pariah Dark is a terrifying man, so he wouldn't do anything to the ones that did a double take at seeing him in the circle. Then he just, left.

There was a lot of differences between this world and the world he remembered back where he came from and before he cut out humanity. For one, there were Superheroes and Supervillains, another was that magic was apparently a common thing (mostly in heroes or villains) and that there was people called 'Metas' walking around living day to day lives.

So having to hide his draconic features wasn't something he had to do, so he didn't. Though he did, for the first time in a while, become human again, first thing he noticed?

He was hungry.

Second thing he noticed?

He was very exhausted.

Third thing he noticed?

He had no money.

Well he had some, but he didn't think that other dimensional currency would work well here. So he'll admit, he did steal a few food items here and there with his ghostly abilities, and was enjoying human food when he ran into a kid.

Literally.

He was eating his last burger and walking around, looking at the city around- Fawcett if he remembered correctly from overhearing- and ran into the kid. Who looked similar to him with the black hair and blue eyes, really, someone was chasing the kid and he didn't ask any questions before grabbing him by the arm and phasing them through a few walls to get away.

Unfortunately, such things left him even further exhausted than he already was. It seemed that never sleeping in the Zone finally caught up with him, and he feel asleep on the kid.

That child was Billy, who was questioning who this Meta was and currently panicking before realizing that they just fell asleep.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #Looking back on it #I believe old me might've been a little bit unhinged in his ideas.#But then I remember that he posted another version of that idea and I go #Yea #That tracks.

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helly-watermelonsmellinfellon · 28 days

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Leaving out how shitty of person Sakura is and how she literally never grows up. She was nasty at 8, nasty at 16, and continued to be nasty in her 30s when she became a parent...

People who genuinely don't like Sakura aren't sitting there disparaging her body, hair, or forehead. They're calling into question how her one goal in life was to become the wife of a boy she continued to disrespect for years. How she didn't take her job seriously and put her team in danger because of it, despite no one forcing her to become a ninja. How she continues to treat her own friends and even her daughter terribly.

Emotions?

You mean where she consistently invaded someone's personal space, refused to take NO for an answer, and then made his trauma about her contrived feelings?

Or how she invalidates everyone else's feelings in favor of her own and manipulates even her child's father, so he won't learn the truth of her behavior at home?

Ideals?

You mean the obsession with her looks and not training until Sasuke and Naruto almost die in front of her?

Or how even after that she didn't start taking things seriously until Sasuke left?

Or what about when all her character growth vanished because she got the chance to see Sasuke again and just stopped being helpful in the canon story and went back to being selfish and rude?

Dreams & Goals?

You mean the desire to be Sasuke's wife regardless of how many times he's pushed her away, told her she was annoying, and avoided her?

Or how her obsession with him was so intense she had to try and guilt trip him in the middle of a war for the sake of the world, into confessing non-existent love to her all because SHE claimed to love him?

Or how she was so attached to being an Uchiha wife that she wears his mon like a badge of honor on all of her clothes when he can't even force himself to wear it or even return to the village to see her and his kid.

Relationships?

You mean where she got the guy in the end, but still decided to be a sob story who did everything alone and then complained about getting no help?

You mean where she was hoping with everything in her being, that her new teammate would insult her supposed best friend too so she would be just as hurt?

Or is it how her obsession with a guy was so intense that she drugged her entire team and left them unconscious in enemy territory just so she could go off to see him to 'kill him' but still needed her drugged teammate to come and save her from being killed by him instead?

Or what about when she broke off her first ever friendship over her obsession simply because of hearsay?

Or what about when she taped her picture over the picture of her husband's friend, and then got angry because her daughter found out and dared to ask questions about it, so she threw a super punch at the space by her kid's feet and took the whole house down in the process?

Or what about that time where she was heavenly pregnant and decided to charge into a very dangerous situation, all for the sake of pride and not being left in her teammate's shadows as usual, and then literally put herself and her unborn child at risk?

Abilities & Strengths?

You mean how her stans try to act like she's surpassed her master by 17, and is better than every other woman in the series when she keeps getting curb-stomped and still needs to be saved by everyone else?

Like, no one is arguing that she hasn't improved as a ninja, cuz it's pretty damn obvious she did, but when y'all sit there being like, 'she's a goddess and Hinata sucks!' are you really being truthful? The enhanced punches aren't helping her all that much so all she's got is healing and even then, she's still not the best at it by adulthood. And she hasn't exactly made a name for herself as she never got out of her teammate's shadows... because she wasn't serious when it mattered.

Y'all brag about how 'Sakura won' when comparing her marriage to Ino's as if Ino isn't in a happy relationship. As if Ino doesn't have a good family unit and that Sai isn't a good father. Sasuke won't come back to the village and only talks to Naruto. Sasuke has never kissed Sakura but HAS kissed Naruto and a Dinosaur of all things. Sasuke didn't even know what his daughter looked like when he met her. When Sakura got stabbed while standing beside him, he didn't care, but when it happened to Naruto he asked after Naruto's well-being. Sakura got the guy she always salivated over, but she didn't actually win anything.

Your consistent need to degrade Hinata and Ino as characters to 'prove' that Sakura is somehow better than them, is also sus. Objectively, they have more character growth and better motivations, and while they might not be super strong and can't punch a house to smithereens in a tantrum, they're far better characters and have better relationships with the people in their lives.

But yeah. People not liking SH for all of these things that make up her character, means they are misogynists.

#anti sakura haruno #anti sasusaku #the irony of trying to act like you care about how ppl treat female characters when your whole account's filled with Hinata and Ino slander #like congrats on your activism there pal

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dutiful-wildcraft · 11 days

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TW: disordered eating, food insecurity

Soap grew up as a chubby boy, his whole family was really, stalky with healthy layers of fat over there bones, a combination of lifestyle and just plain ole genetics. It was a point of pride from his mam, who fed them potatoes and rice and pastas, easy and cheap carbs to keep her babies bellies full despite their struggling income.

Johnny, who'd never felt bad about it until school, where his peers teased him for his soft rolls and clothes that fit him just shy of too tight. Johnny who scarfed down all the food on his tray at lunch and never wasted a bite.

It broke his heart more to see it aimed at his sisters. His beautiful sisters, with their sweet round faces and kind smiles. The same sisters who shared his bulky shoulders and soft tummy, who gave the warmest cuddles and best advice.

Soap who started to bulk up and become leaner to beat anyone's ass who dare insult them again.

Soap who still has stretch marks on his thighs and belly well into his career, stripes he still wears with pride.

Gaz who has a food aversion from a childhood filled with obsessions over carbs and calories and sugars. His gran and mum, who were viciously concerned about their own figures when he was just a boy.

Gaz who lived in an “ingredient household.” Gaz who had to sneak food in the night for fear of punishment. Gaz who's snacks were nasty protein bars or meal replacement shakes. Gaz who was trained to look at every food label and compare nutrition facts, who cut his food into tiny pieces, or ate only in a certain order. (Chugging water makes you feel full he'd learned) Gaz who started checking his body and weight multiple times a day.

Gaz who still struggles despite trying to repair his relationship with food well into adulthood. On base, chugging an energy drink and eating a granola bar for breakfast isn't blinked at. Not eating at all doesn't look suspicious when out in dangerous operations.

Soap learns to refuse Gaz when he innocently tries to offer up the rest of his dinner in the mess. Ghost who peels off all the nutrition labels on the food when he grocery shops for the team. Price who makes sure they both stay fed when together on ops.

Ghost who had been scrawny his whole life. Little Simon who's ribs were visible, who's skin bruised like a peach. Who ate what little they could scrounge up but still saved some for his mum and Tommy.

Simon who is averse to food textures, who struggled to choke down whatever meager meal that was put in front of him.

Simon who's stress and anxiety chronically made his stomach hurt, made putting on weight nearly impossible, made eating what was put in front of him miserable when he knew his father would beat him if he refused to eat the broccoli that made his stomach churn.

Simon who got a job at the butcher shop as soon as he could. Who packed home the trash cuts so he and his family could have something of substance.

Simon who was turned away from the military the first time because he couldn't meet weight requirements.

Simon who gorged himself on meat and rice until he wanted to vomit, just to force some weight on.

Simon who learned to chew fast and swallow quickly with the disgusting textures of military gruel.

Simon who now eats the same meals for breakfast, lunch and dinner everyday on base without fail. Simon who still cant bring himself to waste a single thing put in front of him, regardless of if it pains him to do so.

#Price is just doing his fucking best trying to get these men to eat right #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #call of duty #task force 141 #disordered eating #soap mactavish #ghost cod #soap cod #gaz cod

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rongzhi · 6 months

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Hi Wawa. I'm SEA diaspora Chinese and like many east asians I'm lactose intolerant. Not that I knew what that was until I was like 17. When I told my parents hey it's not normal for dairy to make you feel like that, they just said but milk is supposed to do that.

A mainland Chinese friend also said oh yeah my parents think milk is healthy because it makes you 'expel' all the bad stuff in your body.

So is this milk is a delicious cleansing tonic belief common among Chinese people?

Psh I've never heard anything about milk as a cleansing power lol. My parents didn't even really eat straight up dairy before immigrating to the U.S, and you'll find that dairy products have not really become more widespread in China until recently. Something like 90% of East Asians develop lactose intolerance in adulthood (that's what happened to me; I became lactose intolerant in my teenage years after like two years of not really eating dairy).

My parents are also lactose intolerant but neither of them were under the impression that dairy was a colon cleanser or anything lol. It was more like "oh milk is healthy for you.... but watch out!", like in a "yah brazil nuts are tasty but if you eat a lot, all your hair will fall out and you might die" type thing. After I figured out what lactose intolerance was, I forcibly switched my mom over to lactose free milk and make her take lactaid for heavy creams. I think even a lot of Americans don't really know that dairy is not ~just supposed to~ make you bloat and vomit or get diarrhea or something (the same can be said about a lot of other food sensitivities like toward fructans, allium, gluten etc).

Anyway, to ramble a little more, in my experience, back just a couple of years ago, even sliced cheese was pretty hard to find at a Chinese store, and it was like a tiny expensive little pack in the foreign foods section at a big supermarket. Chinese people generally eat fermented dairy products like suannai (yogurt drink), or soy/grain milks. My parent's generation (1950s ish) didn't have dairy growing up and a lot of my older relatives think it's nasty/rank/sour and is the reason white people smell weird. The people I've seen nowadays seem more aware of lactose intolerance (i.e, "this is an adverse side effect" vs "that's just what happens") and the correlation between consuming a lot of dairy and sitting on the toilet for like an hour lol. I don't think it's really thought of as healthy BECAUSE it makes you empty your bowels. It's the bone health myth that Big Dairy pedals.

#text #answered ask #i think my mom did mention she tried like some kind of milk based product from one of her tibetan roommates when she was in yunnan #or something #but then she didn't have it until she moved to the u.s and she thought it was gross for a really long time #panickingstudent2

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flowerandblood · 3 days

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I don't like many of the authors' decisions here – sometimes their tropes, sometimes their choice of how they present events, dialogues, sometimes their characters, relationships between them or their appearance. It's not a bad thing. I have a right to feel this way.

But I would never tell them about it. Not because I don't have the courage to do it but because it would give them nothing, nothing good. You criticise when someone asks for it – when someone doesn't, then you should keep quiet.

Why? Because perhaps someone does not want this criticism and it's their right too. I, for example, don't care and I don't want to know how much someone dislikes something in my work. I don't need the fake appreciation of others, just as others don't need mine.

If I don't like someone's stories, I just leave them alone. God bless all of them! Write and be happy.

No one here is an oracle or judge, and some people feel that way. If you don't like what the authors are writing and their choices, give them a holy peace or else all you'll achieve is that they'll be discouraged from writing – they'll think: maybe nobody wants to read this after all, look at my characters, maybe it's pointless, maybe everyone thinks about me and my writing this way.

Sowing doubt and passive humiliation is very popular here for some reason and I find it incredibly annoying. People don't know when to shut their mouths and when their private opinion to which they are, after all, entitled hurts others, making them uncomfortable.

Our right to free speech should not cut someone's wings and mock them. This is an expression of disrespect and basic culture.

Not everyone has to want to change, to develop if it is not their profession but a simple hobby.

Anonymity does not make malicious gibberish sound any smarter, and a large audience or reactions under posts does not make anyone entitled to post an opinion in which they criticise works of others for their choices.

"Why do you write with only small letters? It's so annoying. This character would never do this, are you dumb? Aemond would never betray his family! Oh nooo, next Visenya on a big dragon? Why these OC's are so boring? Reader insert is just for you because you are desperate to fuck. Why do your OC is fat? Why do your OC is slim? Why do make your OC look like this, why won't you try something new? Why do you put Alys in your story as a third wheel when she is Aemond's real love interest?"

Shut. The fuck. UUUUUUP. GOD.

You say – you don't agree, don't read, I have a right to my opinion. Well, I say: your right does not absolve you from thinking about the feelings of others.

You are hypocrites. You cry and make a hiatus when someone sends you a nasty anon writing that you write crap, but you devote 2,000 words on your blog to why a certain trope doesn't make sense, why other authors don't have a right to make their OC's look the way they want.

What you write is not private, it's public. Who are you writing it to? Is it an expression of your frustration? Those you write it about can read it. They may feel very, very bad about it, they can think to stop writing at all or make themselves to do something against their will. But that's not your concern anymore, right?

Taking responsibility for your own words only when it's convenient for you is an expression of immaturity and that's what I see in this fandom – most people here are afraid of adulthood and the clash with it. Because in adulthood everything we do has consequences to face.

But it's easier to say that we simply have the right to express our opinion, no matter how hurtful and unfounded it may be.

I want to be clear – I will see anyone reblogging or write this kind of posts – I will block them. Even if I like you, if you are with me for a long time. I don't want to see this kind of toxic behavior on my wall ever again. Enough is enough.

#hotd fandom #gibbering about others oc's #gibbering about aemond x strong niece trope #gibbering about readers inserts #gibbering about smut in the fics #shut #the fuck #upppppp #plz #writing #writing advice #writing fandom #writers #criticism #writers on tumblr #fandom

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cowgurrrl · 5 months

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Don't Let This Darkness Fool You

Summary: Joel's journey to sobriety [1.1k]

Author's note: idk how i feel about this

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, ANGST, TW ADDICTION, misuse of drugs and alcohol, mention of Sarah's death and Ellie's time in FEDRA school, chronic pain, symptoms of withdrawal, Joel trying to make peace with his past, happy ending

The first time Joel goes to a meeting, he sits in the back and says nothing. He watches person after person get up and talk at the front of the room like it's the easiest thing in the world. He doesn't move. He can barely breathe in the musty church rec room as he listens to their stories and finds pieces of himself in each. The survivor left to carry on when everyone else died or left; the bereaved parent; the ruthless dealer shaking down clients to make ends meet; the addict.

Joel never felt the need to examine his relationship with substances. He drank and smoked and made bad decisions as a teenager and into young adulthood, which is partly how he became a single parent at twenty-two. After Sarah was born, he didn't have the time or energy to party anymore. Sure, he had a beer or two here, but never anything close to a bender. He always had to wake up for work and make sure Sarah got to school on time. He would just be setting himself up for failure if he drank heavily.

Then Sarah died, and nothing mattered anymore. The FEDRA doctor gave him a bottle of painkillers for the stitches on the side of his head, and he never thought twice about it. At first, it was manageable. A drink here, some pills there. His kid had just died. He was allowed to grieve however he wanted to, or that was his reasoning, at least, when it became harder to get under control. He would go from being fine to the throes of withdrawal and back to the hazy stupor that rendered him incapable of function. It was a cycle. One that Tess and Tommy hated, but he was always sober when they needed him to be, or he tried to be.

That entire year spent with Ellie, he was more scared of what would happen if he did touch the stuff than if he didn't. His objective was no longer how fast he could get his next fix. It was how fast he could get Ellie fed or somewhere safe. When they finally settled in Jackson, he felt like he could relax without the help of a neat whiskey or a handful of menacing white pills. He was good. He kicked his nasty little habit that followed him for decades and cold turkey at that. He was fine. Until the trauma from the previous twelve months finally caught up with him.

His back was permanently fucked up from falling off the horse in Colorado. He got horrible headaches, which were probably the result of one too many hits to the head and neck. His wrist clicked in pain every time he moved it too fast, and he couldn't sleep. The Jackson doctor cautiously prescribed him anti-anxiety medication and painkillers. And goddammit, if those little pills didn't make him feel the tiniest bit better. He could feel the spiral start again but was too scared to voice it or ask for help.

It wasn't until that night when he stumbled home drunk and a little high after a patrol shift and found Ellie doing homework at the dinner table. He slurred an apology, and she eyed him like a dangerous stranger when he sat across from her. They got into a fight. Joel doesn't remember what it was about, but he remembers going to bed feeling stone-cold sober even though the alcohol was still thrumming through his veins. In the morning, Ellie admitted that she hated when he drank because it reminded her of the FEDRA soldiers loudly coming home from QZ bars. Drunk men with authority and weapons are enough to scare anyone, let alone a little girl. Joel promised her it would never happen again, and he fully intended to keep his promise, but he'd be lying if he said it was easy to quit.

His hands shook in pain for the first few days, and he constantly felt sick. He was sweaty and irritable and uncomfortable. It didn't help that the other patrolmen would ask him to join them for a drink after patrols. He almost folded once. He was almost over the threshold of the Tipsy Bison before he doubled back and ended up at Tommy's door, crumpling in on himself from pain and withdrawal. It was Tommy who mentioned something about the drug addict's anonymous support group. "I'll even come with ya." His brother offered as he rubbed his back like Joel was a fussy infant instead of a grown man.

So, that's how Joel found himself white-knuckling his way through a DAA meeting with Tommy at his side. Tommy assured him that everything said in the meeting was privileged and couldn't leave the church doors. Joel was safe to say anything, and he would receive support. Still, he was so scared. He just sat and watched. It would take two more months of tears, sleepless nights, and fighting temptation before he found the strength to walk down to the front of the room.

"Hi, my name's Joel and… I'm, uh," he stumbled. "I'm an addict." He shared the bits of his story he felt comfortable sharing, but his hands wrung nervously the whole time. He was waiting for the room to turn on him or for the world to end (again), but it didn't. He said the worst things about himself and everything was… fine. "I just… wanna do better for my," he breathed deeply. "For my Ellie." He awkwardly thanked the group and moved to sit back down when the group leader, a kind-looking woman named Shawna, stopped him.

"How long have you been sober, Joel?" She asked softly, and he cleared his throat.

"'Bout four months, ma'am." He said, and she quickly turned to grab something out of her bag. Before he could ask what she was looking for, she pressed a dented circle into his hand and smiled.

"Now, it ain't as pretty as the ones back in the day, but you should be just as proud." She said before encouraging the group to applaud Joel. He felt silly receiving the praise, but when he sat back down, he couldn't ignore how much better he felt.

He didn't look at what Shawna gave him until after the meeting. He thought it was a personal thing he should see only when alone. He waited until his boots were off and he was comfortable on the couch before fishing the wonky thing out of his pocket and looking at it. It was obviously made from scrap pieces of metal, and the engraving was all wrong, but the words "4 months sober" still made him beam with pride. Joel stared at it for a few minutes before walking upstairs to Ellie's empty room and scribbling a note on her desk.

When Ellie gets home from studying with Dina and Jesse, she finds the coin on her desk beside a note in Joel's blocky handwriting. It reads, "Every single one is for you. It's all for you."

#joel miller angst #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fic #joel tlou #tlou angst #the last of us angst #the last of us fic #joel and ellie

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