#ill make a post on how they fucking complete each other

[profoundmakerdreamerss-blog]

I hate, hate golden trio bashing fics. They have such a ride-and-die friendship like bro they raided a bank together then fled on a dragon they stuck together through so much — while having fights like normal friends do, but the best thing about them? They get back together. No matter what. Thus, coming out of a literal war in one piece, together; if that doesn't tell you how much they love each other then I don't know what to tell you.

#they would die for each other #they are so damn loyal to each other that it's kind of scary #and it is valid imo #like i wouldn't be surprised if they come out of the war being codependent #honestly that would be least of their worries #golden trio #hermione granger #harry potter #ron weasley #harry james potter #i can list all the things they did for each other and i will one #ill make a post on how they fucking complete each other #because they do #one isnt better than each other #they are better #and they are happier together #u dont gotta compare #the golden trio

[gavis-bettel]

ok but i have never seen a google docs receipts/c4ll0ut that wasnt at least 30% the stupidest god damn shit ive ever seen someone make up

#yes this is about the current... fiasco. #like yeah supporting h. p in this day and age when it is extremely common knowledge just how bad The Author is can lead you to a pretty #solid conclusion. thats valid in this case. #maybe not calling them a full on t3rf but they are at least apathetic towards tr ans ppl enough that it doesnt bother them #not that thats excusable either and it absolutely might be related to the way that t/er/fs can get away with as much as they do on this site #but i wouldnt go slapping that label on someone without knowing their exact po/litics slash opinions you know? #the um. Historical References in a.ot are not quite so widely known so i think that ones a stretch on the other hand #i think its not too hard to believe that someone whos in that fandom and doesnt see much from people who are in the venn diagram of both #anime and social just1c3/act1v1sm might have that stuff go over their head especially if theyre not that far into the story #disclaimer i do not know if the person in question is this is purely hypothetical but basically im saying its probably a bit of a stretch #to call this person a full on fucking n*zi for being a fan of this One Thing that was at one point the biggest anime on tumblr #however the thing that made me make this post was the zero brain cell take of calling someone a p*******e for drawing ag3d u p child #characters for sh1p art. i saw it. it was two characters standing next to each other. calling someone a literal fucking p3d0 for that is #completely fucking insane. a 100% nonsexual drawing of two characters Just Standing There. #especially when one character canonically has a crush on the other like? am i getting this right? #it makes you a P3D0PH1L3 to see a ch1ld character with a crush on a classmate and think #oh thats cute what if they were a little older and she liked him back? ill draw them standing together blushing #like the first two accusations were already blowing things way out of proportion in my opinion but that last one turns this from #'okay its a little bit of a stretch but i can see your thought process' to 'you straight up made this up based on absolutely nothing #bc you wanted to make them seem like an even worse person than the stuff they actually did do implies so you pulled out the p word card' #this is like. rabid twitter teen behavior lmao and i dont think ive seen the post that got all this started #but if they made those same three accusations then yes that is absolutely h4ra55ment and should be grounds for deletion imo #if it wasnt then it was definitely an overreaction by 5t4ff but given the years of hatred theyve gotten and the fact that tu/mb/lr users do #tend to just believe c4ll0uts like this without looking into it themselves and forming their own opinions and also dogpiling on ppl #i think that regardless of how much of it was true and how much was jumping to conclusions or straight up untrue #a c4ll0ut is generally seen as an invitation to h4r4ss the person in question so. its kind of tough to say what the right call might have #been esp since any attempt at addressing it would be seen as defending the aforementioned ideologies/actions regardless of #whether or not theyre actually not true #from the Zero Brain Cell crowd at least and those are the ones who are dogpiling regardless #star emoji

[autismserenity]

know someone who enjoys horror stories? share this one! it's true!

hahahahahahahahahaha aarrggghhhhhhhhhh 3,000,000 deaths due to COVID-19 last year. Globally. Three million. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. The reason people are still worried about COVID is because it has a way of quietly fucking up your body. And the risk is cumulative.

I'm going to say that again: the risk is cumulative.

It's not just that a lot of people get bad long-term effects from it. One in seven or so? Enough that it's kind of the Russian Roulette of diseases. It's also that the more times you get it, the higher that risk becomes. Like if each time you survived Russian Roulette, the empty chamber was removed from the gun entirely. The worst part is that, psychologically, we have the absolute opposite reaction. If we survive something with no ill effects, we assume it's pretty safe. It is really, really hard to override that sense of, "Ok, well, I got it and now I probably have a lot of immunity and also it wasn't that bad." It is not a respiratory disease. Airborne, yes. Respiratory disease, no: not a cold, not a flu, not RSV.

Like measles (or maybe chickenpox?), it starts with respiratory symptoms. And then it moves to other parts of your body. It seems to target the lungs, the digestive system, the heart, and the brain the most.

It also hits the immune system really hard - a lot of people are suddenly more susceptible to completely unrelated viruses. People get brain fog, migraines, forget things they used to know.

(I really, really hate that it can cross the blood-brain barrier. NOTHING SHOULD EVER CROSS THE BLOOD-BRAIN BARRIER IT IS THERE FOR A REASON.) Anecdotal examples of this shit are horrifying. I've seen people talk about coworkers who've had COVID five or more times, and now their work... just often doesn't make sense? They send emails that say things like, "Sorry, I didn't mean Los Angeles, I meant Los Angeles."

Or they insist they've never heard of some project that they were actually in charge of a year or two before.

Or their work is just kind of falling apart, and they don't seem to be aware of it.

People talk about how they don't want to get the person in trouble, so their team just works around it. Or they describe neighbors and relatives who had COVID repeatedly, were nearly hospitalized, talked about how incredibly sick they felt at the time... and now swear they've only had it once and it wasn't bad, they barely even noticed it.

(As someone who lived with severe dissociation for most of my life, this is a genuinely terrifying idea to me. I've already spent my whole life being like, "but what if I told them that already? but what if I did do that? what if that did happen to me and I just don't remember?") One of its known effects in the brain is to increase impulsivity and risk-taking, which is real fucking convenient honestly. What a fantastic fucking mutation. So happy for it on that one. Yes, please make it seem less important to wear a mask and get vaccinated. I'm not screaming internally at all now.

I saw a tweet from someone last year whose family hadn't had COVID yet, who were still masking in public, including school.

She said that her son was no kind of an athlete. Solidly bottom middle of the pack in gym.

And suddenly, this year, he was absolutely blowing past all the other kids who had to run the mile. He wasn't running any faster. His times weren't fantastic or anything. It's just that the rest of the kids were worse than him now. For some reason. I think about that a lot. (Like my incredibly active six-year-old getting a cold, and suddenly developing post-viral asthma that looked like pneumonia.

He went back to school the day before yesterday, after being home for a month and using preventative inhalers for almost week.

He told me that it was GREAT - except that he couldn't run as much at recess, because he immediately got really tired. Like how I went outside with him to do some yard work and felt like my body couldn't figure out how to increase breathing and heart rate.

I wasn't physically out of breath, but I felt like I was out of breath. That COVID feeling people describe, of "I'm not getting enough air." Except that I didn't have that problem when I had COVID.) Some people don't observe any long (or medium) term side effects after they have it.

But researchers have found viral reservoirs of COVID-19 in everyone they've studied who had it.

It just seems to hang out, dormant, for... well, longer than we've had an opportunity to observe it, so far.

(I definitely watched that literal horror movie. I think that's an entire genre. The alien dormant under ice in the Arctic.)

(oh hey I don't like that either!!!!!!!!!) All of which is to explain why we should still care about avoiding it, and how it manages to still cause excess deaths. Measuring excess deaths has been a standard tool in public health for a long time.

We know how many people usually die from all different causes, every year. So we can tell if, for example, deaths from heart disease have gone way up in the past three years, and look for reasons. Those are excess deaths: deaths that, four years ago, would not have happened. During the pandemic, excess death rates have been a really important tool. For all sorts of reasons. Like, sometimes people die from COVID without ever getting tested, and the official cause is listed as something else because nobody knows they had COVID. But also, people are dying from cardiovascular illness much younger now.

People are having strokes and heart attacks younger, and more often, than they did before the pandemic started. COVID causes a lot of problems. And some of those problems kill people. And some of them make it easier for other things to kill us. Lung damage from COVID leading to lungs collapsing, or to pneumonia, or to a pulmonary embolism, for example. The Economist built a machine-learning model with a 95% confidence interval that gauges excess death statistics around the world, to tell them what the true toll of the ongoing COVID pandemic has been so far.

Total excess deaths globally in 2023: Three million.

3,000,000.

Official COVID-19 deaths globally so far: Seven million. 7,000,000. Total excess deaths during COVID so far: Thirty-five point two million. 35,200,000.

Five times as many.

That's bad. I don't like that at all. I'm glad last year was less than a tenth of that. I'm not particularly confident about that continuing, though, because last year we started a period of really high COVID transmission. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. Here's their data, and charts you can play with, and links to detailed information on how they did all of this:

Here's a non-paywalled link to it:

https://archive.vn/2024.01.26-012536/https://www.economist.com/graphic-detail/coronavirus-excess-deaths-estimates

Oh: here's a link to where you can buy comfy, effective N95 masks in all sizes:

Those ones are about a buck each after shipping - about $30 for a box of 30. They also have sample packs for a dollar, so you can try a couple of different sizes and styles.

You can wear an N95 mask for about 40 total hours before the effectiveness really drops, so that's like a dollar for a week of wear.

They're also family-owned and have cat-shaped masks and I really love them. These ones are cuter and in a much wider range of colors, prints, and styles, but they're also more expensive; they range from $1.80 to $3 for a mask. ($18-$30 for a box of ten.)

#covid isn't over #covid 19 #disability rights #disability advocacy #wear a mask #covid conscious #covid cautious #mask up #wall of words #public health #health care

[inkskinned]

im gonna start a fight; and, at the same time, i need you to take this in the most good-faith way possible, but:

videos that involve body-checking and intentionally (and uncritically) show a mealplan of an unhealthy number of calories are just a revamped version of pro-ana food diaries.

and yeah, i know there's arguments. i address some of them under the cut. but at the end of the day, we're just coming back to romanticizing mental illness; we've just found a better platform for it.

this is already something we've done. we knew it was wrong and tried to stop it. and tbh. it just wasn't enough.

there are people who argue "well, what if you have an eating disorder, you can't help it if you don't eat!" except that as someone with an ED; we are not infants. we know what we're doing. part of having an ED is that you are like, maybe too self-aware. even if we can't help our own food choices, we don't need to fucking romanticize the disorder - something we've been warning you about since 2013. there are hours of setup, filming, and editing that go into these videos. they do not happen to fall into place randomly. there is a reason they are pieced together to be beautiful, bright, inspiring.

there's this woman who pretty much only posts daily plans under a normal amount of calories, and everyone defends her saying but it's better than nothing! and i'm like. except she opens those with images of her showing off her body and provides no context in the video or caption that suggests that she believes what she's doing is unhealthy. she has hundreds of thousands of followers on a platform designed for young kids and teens. i refuse to believe that by accident her content just happens to be cheery advice on "healthy" versions of starving.

for any other symptom of mental illness, we would be incredibly enraged by this kind of placid acceptance of a "tips and tricks" fast-start guide. imagine if people posted pink & pretty videos saying "best places to cut yourself" as if it was a fucking storytime. we, as a society, are so fucking fatphobic that we would rather accept blatantly harmful displays of self harm than admit that we are obsessed with a hyper-thin body type.

i am not suggesting someone never talks about their disorder. i talk about mine. actually, it's a plot point in my book.

here's the difference: i recognize it's a fucking mental illness. i am very careful to never mention a specific weight, eating pattern, or calorie plan. i always make sure to position it as something that ruined my fucking life. i do not put cheery music in the background and hearts and sparkles over my worst moments. i do not film it in bright light. i do not start each passage with an image of a thin body followed by "here's how to look like her."

eating disorders should not be framed as aspirational. and the problem is that society worships the "after" image, so long as you don't get too sick. there is a reason so many people who quit being "influencers" will later admit - i wasn't eating well that whole time; an obsession with food was completely destroying my life.

we let any uncredited, uncertified person write the most backwards, fucked up shit about how to get the body you desire! because the underlying, secret belief is: well, at least they're thin! and the real thing that fucking gets me each time - they make fucking money off of it. their irresponsibility and societal harm literally pays off for them.

"why do you care so much." "don't like it don't look." "so what if people experiment with new ways of thinking of food?"

thank you for asking. we're about to get extremely personal. it's because when i was 18 i discovered "thinspiration"/"thinspo." and it absolutely influenced, shaped, and codified my pre-existing eating disorder. i went from having some troubling habits and traits to being incredibly unwell within what felt like a matter of days. there were actual pages designed to train me on how to have an ED correctly. it was all so suddenly easy. i was sick; and the nature of the illness meant - i wanted to be sicker.

it takes an average of 7 years for a person to fully recover. i know this personally - even now, 10 years from the worst of it, i still fucking struggle. i am so much happier now and i eat what i want and i literally don't think about food at all (19 year old me would shudder) and yet - i still fucking know the calories of plain toast with butter.

an eating disorder is one of the deadliest types of mental illness. over 1 in 4 people with an ED will attempt suicide.

and i'm sorry. i just do not see the exchange rate of "high rate of engagement" versus "the value of a human life."

#and there's something else in there about like .... #tbh once i got over something like 1k followers #i stopped being specific about my ED for a REASON. #yes on ur personal locked blog that u use like a diary go ahead etc #but we are OBVIOUSLY not talking about that. we're talking about the sheer NUMBER of people i could be talking about #in that one paragraph. that you and i probably were thinking about 2 different influencers #bc they get to say that they're just posting FITNESS and if it's FITNESS it's OKAY and im like #jesus christ lord almighty #every person in recovery from an ED: this is incredibly dangerous holy shit do you know how much this would have triggered me #each of these ppl: how dare you!!!!!!!!! i am only harming those who WANT to engage with my content!!!!! #their followers: leave them alone !!! they can't help that they make an hours-long choice to frame their disorder as if it was #fucking cottagecore !!!! #like girlie this person needs THERAPY #again! i didn't even have that large of a following before i IMMEDIATELY deleted any specific mention of calories food etc #bc i recognize responsibility and i didnt EVER want to even ACCIDENTALLY encourage this #and im not even GETTING PAID FOR THIS!!! #aND THEY ARE!!! #something something something they know this content makes them money #they don't give a SHIT about u babe

[obey-me-headquarters]

My “Lucifer accidentally wearing a vibrator to RAD” post is one of my favorites and it’s an idea I often come back to in my mind. And I guess I day dreamed a new “version” of it?

So basically, the fic starts the same, with Lucifer accidentally going to RAD wearing a vibrator and you unknowingly edge and overstim him the entire day. Only when the day ends instead of going home and getting fucked by you, Diavolo calls him in for a suprise council meeting.

Diavolo found out a budget suddenly didn’t work or something. So now Lucifer has to sit in Diavolo’s office with him and Barbatos and go over the budget and brainstorm ways on how to fix it.

Only the vibrator is still going off, and sitting down means it’s pressing into all of his sensitive places. And after an entire day of getting his pussy played with Lucifer is sensitive beyond belief.

Yet Lucifer can’t ask to go home because that would be suspicious, so he’s still there, in front of Diavolo and Barbatos, squirming in his seat as his orgasm builds and builds. Trying so desperately to pay attention and participate in the conversation but struggling as the vibrator presses into the sensitive hood of his clit.

It’s even worse as he can’t seem to cum, the vibrator, while making him sensitive, also made his body used to it. And he can’t quite reach the peak his body keeps leading too. Getting so close that it makes his thighs shake, his pussy dripping, but never quite surpassing it.

Lucifer being locked in a battle of wills, wanting so desperately to cum but also not wanting Diavolo and Barbatos to realize what’s going on.

But of course, the two notice something is wrong. Barbatos is too attentive of a butler to not notice when someone is feeling unwell, and Diavolo has known Lucifer for thousands of years. Yet they don’t seem to quite grasp what is bothering Lucifer, as they ask if the prideful demon is feeling unwell.

Diavolo offers to postpone the meeting to a later date, and suggests that Lucifer goes home to rest. But Lucifer denies any feelings of illness, knowing that if he were to stand that the two would see how his pants cling to the chair and the puddle of slick he has created.

So the meeting moves on, only now both Diavolo and Barbatos keep a careful eye on Lucifer. And this is when they start to notice exactly *how* Lucifer is being affected. How his flush face and squirming is not a sign of illness, but of arousal.

I also headcanon (or, at least, make canon in my fics), that Lucifer, Diavolo, and Barbatos all routinely fuck. It’s, like, a friends-with-benefits situation because none of them can admit their actual feelings for each other. Until you come along. So this is way less dubious consent lol.

Anyway, the two of them notice, and share a look of “we’re totally going to dom and tease the fuck out of Lucifer” (a normal look the two of them share.)

So Barbatos offers to give Lucifer a shoulder massage, stating that the stress of managing his brothers must be getting to him. Lucifer tries to resist, insisting that he is quite alright, but Diavolo leans over his desk, his sleeves rolled up, his eyes full of mischief, and says that Lucifer should listen to Barbatos.

And Lucifer loses the fight, allowing the butler demon to caress his shoulder blades. Now at least he has an excuse when his moans of pleasure slip through.

Still, Lucifer is unable to cum, still being edged to hell and back as his body refuses to let him topple over. The idea of work or paying attention has been completely abandoned as Lucifer is now grinding his hips into the wet plush seat, desperately chasing an orgasm. His thin slice of pride being the only thing stopping him from reaching down and shoving his hands into his pants.

Luckily he doesn’t need that to finally topple over, as when Diavolo whispers into his ear - how he got from behind his desk to suddenly right next to him, Lucifer will never know - his voice low and commanding to finally let go and cum, Lucifer’s body forces himself over the edge.

Lucifer doesn’t normally squirt, while his pussy drips out precum at a steady rate, it is actually very rare for him to actually squirt when he cums. Yet this time his body has no trouble spraying in his pants, wetting his already drenched pants and soaking the chair and desk.

Yet, like the rest of the day, the vibrator doesn’t crease. It still buzzes away in him. After returning home to the house of Lamentation you completely forgot to ask Lucifer about the remote, leaving it in your bag as you tossed it on the floor, leaving it on the already very high vibration.

Lucifer now squirms in full, his legs stretching out to thump uselessly against the floor as he tries in vain to get away from the vibrator. Barbatos has stopped massaging Lucifer’s shoulders to hold him against his chair, stopping him from getting up.

Diavolo watches, amused and very aroused by Lucifer’s antics. He thought Lucifer came into the meeting room today wearing a vibrator, but he finds it curious that he’s not currently turning it off after his orgasm. Instead the prideful demon is desperately pawing at his soaked crouch, like he’s trying to remove the vibrator, but he’s unable to get a good grip on it.

Diavolo asks where the remote is, and Lucifer stutters out his situation. How he accidentally came to RAD wearing the vibrator, how he’s been edged and made to orgasm, how he’s pretty sure that you have the remote. Diavolo swallows heavily at the idea of Lucifer being tormented for the entire day. Mentally noting that he will have to do the same one day, maybe as a punishment for Lucifer.

With his own hands Diavolo reaches down and tears off Lucifer's pants and underwear, and Lucifer only whines weakly at his uniform being ripped to shreds. The sight of Lucifer’s pussy - dripping, a deep red, and abused - sends both Diavolo and Barbatos groaning.

Even the normally quiet and unassuming butler is overcome with his desire to torment Lucifer even more. To play with him until he’s screaming and sobbing, barely able to moan out full words.

Diavolo growls, deep and primal, the kind of growl that tells Lucifer that the prince is going to let go of all his princey etiquette and fuck him like the demon he is. And he wastes no time, as he reaches down to play with Lucifer’s pussy.

His hands only ghost over Lucifer’s labia but it’s enough to send him into hysterics. His hands shot out to drab Diavolo’s arms, but Diavolo is already so much more stronger than him and Lucifer is weak on account of all the orgasms he already had. So it takes no effort for Diavolo to continue his assault.

His fingers gently grazing up and down the abused flesh, like he’s apologizing for all the torment he’s going to put his pussy through. Lucifer weakly begs Diavolo to take out the vibrator, as it is still buzzing against his tender clit, but Diavolo only shushes him. His hands land on the opening to his pussy, where the other section of the vibrator is already buzzing away.

The toy is not nearly as big as any of the dicks Lucifer has taken, so Diavolo doesn’t hesitate when he pushes two of his fingers alongside the toy. Lucifer gasps like he’s been wounded, his back straightening as he tries to throw himself out of the chair. But Barbatos is still behind him, and he’s still holding him against the chair, barring any movements.

Diavolo’s fingers explore Lucifer’s tender pussy, spreading it even wider and pressing against all the spots that makes Lucifer scream. He moves the vibrator away for a movement to play with Lucifer’s g-spot. The sound Lucifer lets out when Diavolo presses firmly against it can’t be described as a sob or a scream, as it’s more of a desperate wail.

Diavolo notes how puffy his g-spot has gotten, the constant stimulation against it all day enlarging it and making it all the more sensitive. The prince spends a few movements playing with it, studying it as it pulsates. Until he can’t take it anymore.

“Barbatos.” Diavolo growls, and the butler immediately knows what he is asking for.

With strong hands he lifts Lucifer up and manhandles him into position. His stomach lay across the desk with his legs tip toeing, barely able to hold his weight up. Luckily Barbatos is there to hold him in place, his strong hands pinning Lucifer against the wood. Diavolo settles in between Lucifer’s thighs as he kneels on the ground. His hands wrap around Lucifer’s thighs to grant him easy access to Lucifer’s pussy, and to stop him from closing his legs.

With his teeth Diavolo removes the vibrator, earning a soft “thank you” from Lucifer, who hasn’t quite grasped why he’s laying across the desk or what Diavolo intends to do with his vulnerable pussy. It doesn’t take him long to figure out though, not when Diavolo leans up and wraps his lips around Lucifer’s clit.

“No no no no no no,” Lucifer whines as he struggles against the sensation. But he’s firmly locked in, Barbatos keeping him from squirming and Diavolo’s hands around his thighs allowing him easy access.

Slowly, like he’s testing out the waters, Diavolo’s tongue circles Lucifer’s clit. Feeling at it pulsates and shakes against him, like it too is trying to get away. But Diavolo doesn’t heed it’s request, instead he pushes onward, moving up until his tongue catches on the hood of Lucifer’s clit.

“Diavolo, no.” Lucifer tries to be firm, but it comes out more like a desperate sob. Lucifer knows that he’s way more sensitive when his clit is pulled back from its hood. That all it takes is a few swipes and he’s coming on a normal day. He doesn’t know if he'd survive if Diavolo’s tongue were to attack him there.

But Diavolo doesn’t seem to care about Lucifer’s survival, he just wants to taste his cum. So he moves his arms around until he can grasp Lucifer’s pussy with one hand. And slowly, ever so slowly, he pulls Lucifer’s clit away from his hood.

Before wrapping his lips around his clit and humming.

Lucifer sees white. His ears are ringing. He’s pretty sure he’s not even breathing, or if he is, he’s most likely hyperventilating. He squirts again, but Lucifer isn’t sure he’s even conscious, so he can’t tell.

He’s not sure how long Diavolo’s lips stay locked around his clit, it could be for a few minutes, or could be for a thousand years, all he knows is that he’s been forced to again and again and again.

Until suddenly it stops. Lucifer’s vision clears as he feels Diavolo pop off of his clit, there’s still some spots around the edges, but at the very least he’s able to get a full breath into his lungs. Distantly he feels Diavolo stand up, and a part of him hopes that means that it’s over, but another part knows what’s coming up.

He hears the sound of a zipper opening, and he knows his fate is sealed before Diavolo even slams his hips forward. His whole members bottoming out in an instant inside of Lucifer. The force actually sends Lucifer forward by half an inch, but it’s just enough for him to become flush with Barbatos’ crotch. He notices that Barbatos is hard and dripping through his pants for only a moment before Diavolo is pulling back and slamming back into him, ceasing all cognitive thought.

After a few moments, Lucifer’s brain slowly comes back online, and he can do something about Barbatos’ little problem. With shaky hands he reaches up and tries to undo Barbatos pants, but the shifting motion of Diavolo’s thrusts and his own weakness stops him from making any real progress.

Luckily Barbatos notices his struggles, and bats his hands away to replace them with his own. Swiftly he removes his pants and underwear, only pausing momentarily when his lower half is fully nude.

Carefully he cups Lucifer’s head into his hands and tilts it upward. Sharp eyes meet pleasure filled ones, but Barbatos can tell there’s still a spark there. A sense of cognitiveness that tells him that Lucifer isn’t doing this out of blind, lust filled passion, but that he chose to do this.

Quietly Barbatos reaches behind him and opens a portal and grabs a noise maker out of time and space to put into Lucifer’s hands. Lucifer nods, understanding what he’s supposed to do with it if he needs to safeword, before he leans forward and wraps his lips around Barbatos’ dick.

After that, the three of them get into a steady rhythm. With Diavolo’s thrusts sending Lucifer forward, face fucking him into Barbatos’ member. Lucifer loves scenes like these, where he’s nothing more than a conduit for his doms pleasure. Like it doesn’t even matter how much he sobs or shakes or cums, they’re not done with him until they cum.

And it doesn’t take long for either Diavolo or Barbatos to reach their peaks as Lucifer’s pleasure filled moans already did half the work. Barbatos cums first, shooting into Lucifer’s throat and face as he backs up. Diavolo tries to last longer, wanting to savor the feel of Lucifer’s pussy around him, but Lucifer cums as Barbatos teases him about the mess he made on his face, and the force sends Diavolo spilling deep inside Lucifer.

As the three of them catch their breath, Diavolo manhandles Lucifer so he’s sitting flush against his chest. And Lucifer is too boneless to even worry about soiling Diavolo’s uniform.

After a few moments Lucifer feels like he gained some of his energy back, and leans up to kiss Diavolo, which the demon prince happily returns.

“We should work on the budget now.” Lucifer states firmly, as if his voice isn’t currently wrecked from the face fucking.

Diavolo chuckles against him, “I hardly think you’re in any state of mind to worry about budgets, Lucifer.”

Scowling, Lucifer turns to him with a rebuttal on his lips. But it dies when Diavolo’s hand pressed firmly against his clit, sending delicious aftershots of pleasure throughout him.

“Th-the budget needs - ah - needs to be done.” Lucifer forces out.

“And it will be done, just not by you.” Diavolo says with a smile.

Before Lucifer can ask what Diavolo means by that, or notice Barbatos stepping away, Diavolo kisses him. Lucifer sighs happily into the kiss, mentally shrugging off the idea of finishing the budget. If Diavolo wants aftercare to last a little longer, then Lucifer would let himself be cuddled.

Diavolo has no such plans to drag out aftercare, in his mind the scene hasn’t even ended yet, but he thinks it would be best - or most assuming - if Lucifer remains unaware. So he allows Lucifer to turn his brain off and close his eyes, not even noticing when Barbatos hands him the still buzzing vibrator.

Silently, Barbatos ties Lucifer’s hands around his back with his belt, and Lucifer is too relaxed to even comprehend what’s going on. That is, until Diavolo shoves the vibrator back into his pussy, setting it against the underside of his clit and g-spot.

“Wh-what, Diavolo!” Lucifer cries out as he tries to take the toy out of himself, but his bond hands stop him.

“Shhh, shhh, it’s ok. I’ll still work on the budgets, don’t worry.” Diavolo says as he takes the paperwork that was shoved off the desk by Barbatos.

Lucifer tries to reply that is not what he meant, but suddenly an orgasm hits him and he can only moan.

Wrapping his arms around Lucifer, Diavolo picks Lucifer up and gently places him under the desk, so he’s straddling one of his legs, forcing Lucifer’s legs to stay open. Diavolo pushes Lucifer’s head into his crotch, right now it’s just to keep him close, but later it would give Diavolo access to Lucifer's mouth so he cockwarm him or face fuck him.

“D-Diavolo, Barbatos, please.” Lucifer whines, shifting against Diavolo’s leg. But the motion only sends the vibrator in deeper as it presses against Diavolo’s shoe.

“It’s ok. Just be a good slut and take it. After all, you’re the one who put it there in the first place, right?” Diavolo replies, giving one last pet to Lucifer's head before he focuses on his paperwork.

#obey me #obey me smut #obey me dom!diavolo #obey me dom!barbatos #but not to you #actually the reader isnt really into this sorry lol #this is just Dom Diavolo and Barbatos fucking Sub Lucifer #love how this turned into ideas to a whole fic lol #my post #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #obey me barb #obey me Barbatos #obey me dialuci

[hillbillyoracle]

How to Create Downtime Menus

As a lot of my posts are, this one was inspired by a conversation with my partner. She seemed to think some of my ideas were helpful so I thought I'd write them up and share them here.

I use a combination of these ideas to do two things - redirect myself when I get stuck doomscrolling/freezing/obsessing and redirect myself when I'm stuck on the "must be good, must be productive" hamster wheel and can't seem to stop doing chores until I'm fucking exhausted or have pushed/hurt myself. Knowing you need to stop is one thing - knowing what to do instead is another.

Not all of these will work for every person at every time. Pick one or two that seem interesting and give them a whirl.

Habit of the Month

This is a small habit I can do in about 5-10 minutes a day. These are sometimes habits that I want to audition for my lineup or just want to focus on as a way of rebooting a given area of my life. Physical habits have been things like stretching, a walk, putting on moisturizer, drinking water, making tea, etc. Emotional habits have been things like stream of consciousness journaling, bullet journaling, recording myself venting, etc. Spiritual habits have been things like meditating, altar work, reading sutras, tarot readings, etc.

If I'm stuck in a loop and I haven't done that task yet, it serves as an easy win that feels moderately meaningful to accomplish. This is easier to do than longer or less interesting tasks.

Side Quests

These are little challenges I'd like to accomplish that are 100% fun and completely optional. They are specific and can me completed within a given time frame - usually a month. They usually aren't the most meaningful to keep them more fun and so I'm not letting myself down if I don't opt to complete it.

They've been things like:

The Minor Expert Challenge - read three books in one subject

The Kanopy Critic Challenge - use up all of my Kanopy credits that month

The Regal Freegal Challenge - download all the albums/songs I can on Freegal that month

The Monthly Playlist Challenge - create a playlist of the month where each song represents something about each day of that month; like a playlist diary

The Reverse Tarot Draw Challenge - pick/list a tarot card you best think represents each day of a given month or other time period; like a tarot card diary

The 100 Words Challenge - learn 100 words in a foreign language

As you can see, I prefer things that are pretty low energy friendly so I can work on them on days I'm super tired. Just little chronic illness things.

Alphabet Lists

I use these for my cleaning routines actually but I also have been trying them with my downtime. The way it works is you list out the alphabet and choose one self care or hobby task you'd like to do for each. They don't have to start with the same letter, it just serves as an easy way to limit how many you pick and keep track of what you've done. It's satisfying to cross off the whole list.

Tasks I put on these are things like

A - paint my nails

B - crochet a charity hat

C - write 5 letters for Letters Against Isolation

D - send a letter to a friend

E - play a solo rpg

F - play a solo board game

G - complete a puzzle

etc

They're fun tasks I'm not currently doing as often as I'd like but chill enough that it doesn't matter when precisely I do them more often. I try to pick tasks that are roughly 30 minutes to an hour long though some definitely take longer. I like to complete these roughly monthly but I try to complete a whole list before I start it again. Anything I just did not feel like doing and kept skipping gets scratched out and I rewrite a new list with new item to replace those. And I start again.

Whenever I'm like ugh I don't know what to do with myself, I try to pick at least one thing on the list and give it a try for 5 minutes. If I don't like it after that I can just put it away and pick something else.

10x10

10x10 lists are a different take on a similar idea. It's a list of 10 things you'd like to do at least 10 times in a given time period. Mine tend to be on the seasonal or annual timescale but maybe you're intense and prefer a monthly one. If I don't complete them in a given time period, I just continue with it until I'm done. Better to complete it on an altered timeline than not at all.

For me these tend to be slightly bigger tasks that take a little more planning or energy. I'm not totally sure why I use them this way since you could definitely use them for smaller tasks but that's just the space they occupy for me.

So examples of what would be on my list would be things like:

Grab a hot chocolate from the coffee shop (x10)

Complete a PokemonGo event (x10)

Have a spa night and watch a movie (x10)

Do something extra nice for my partner (x10)

Try a new game (x10)

Find a geocache (x10)

etc

Filing up a little 10x10 grid is pretty satisfying. Much more so than anxietying myself into my bed for the equivalent amount of time.

Seasonal Bucket Lists

I really enjoy making these though I really struggle with the current season (Spring) given my allergies. There's this idea my partner has told me about in DBT where you try to recall positive moments to help "build a life worth living". I think seasonal bucket lists are really good at helping with this for me. I look back on the seasons I made these lists way more fondly than the ones I didn't.

They generally center on seasonal activities I don't want to miss out on. So for summer that's stuff like going for a night swim/skinny dip, getting 5-10 good cloud photos, playing a yard game (like cornhole), seeing a street concert, etc. I also try to take pictures of those (if they don't already involve them) so I can reflect on them later and enjoy the residual happiness.

Conclusion

The point of these isn't to overwhelm you with options. It's just to have enough ideas prepped that you can find something no matter your energy level or time you're working with.

Remember - rest and enjoying yourself is necessary for human health. Folks how get good rest and experience flow states more regularly tend to heal better. People who spend time on what they enjoy are often more enjoyable to be around.

It's never a waste of time to make yourself happy.

#life advice #adhd #love a good list

[agi-ppangx]

💭don’t stray from me

pairing: vampire!seungmin x human!reader

warings: talking about dying, cursing

an: alright, this request took me wayyy to long to write, but here it is !! i got inspired by number 5 from this post by @saraswritingtipps (i hope it's okay i used it !!) also, my 🐺 anonnie, i hope you'll be satisfied with this drabble >< wrote it at midnight with energy drink in my hand, but i hope you'll like it nonetheless<33

“why didn’t you tell me?” seungmin asked, his eyes fixated on the floor. you shrugged your shoulders, remaining silent. 

your relationship with seungmin was rough to say the least. since the very beginning he seemed distant, even though he swore it was just his façade, but deep down he supposedly cared. the problem was that you didn’t feel it. you knew creating a bond with someone like him would be difficult, but you still hoped you could do it. 

“you know we shouldn’t keep secrets from each other,” he continued, not daring to even spare a glance towards you. “i was planning on telling you. just not yet,” you finally spoke, your shaky voice barely above the whisper. a single tear fell down your cheek but you were quick to wipe it. you didn’t want to be perceived as someone weak. your body may’ve been, but you surely weren’t. “what do you mean “not yet”? then where did you want to tell me, huh? on your deathbed?” seungmin shouted, finally turning to you. his eyes were red and filled with tears which were threatening to cascade down his face and you swore your heart broke right then and there on the sight.  “minnie…” you started but he interrupted you. “you’re dying and you didn’t even tell me!” he exclaimed. “you didn’t tell me,” seungmin repeated, much quieter, as if the gravity of the situation had finally reached him when he said it out loud. he was looking you deeply in the eyes and you didn’t even know what to say to him. you just sat there, completely defenceless. “i’m sorry…” you simply whispered, your eyes wandering around the room in order not to look into seungmin’s eyes. “i just thought it would be for the better, you know? it’s not like we’re close after all, so i thought you didn’t really want to hear about my struggles. and you'd forget about me eventually.” he scoffed at your words, visibly offended. “we’re not close? what the fuck, yn? i thought there’s something between us, i thought we both feel the same about each other.” you exhaled loudly at his words. he paused for a moment and then spoke again. “how long have you known about your illness?” he asked, taking your hand in his. you shook your head. “i don’t know, a few months i guess?” you responded. he fell silent again, gathering his thoughts and each passing second was like hell to you. he suddenly hugged you, pulling your head into his chest. it was then when you broke down and started sobbing uncontrollably. his skin was cold under your touch, so unbelievably cold, but it still managed to soothe you and make you feel safe. “i thought you didn’t like me, like at all,” you uttered into his shirt. he backed off slightly and looked down at you. “you’re kinda right, i don’t like you,” he said and you looked at him, terrified that your gut feeling was right. “i love you,” he added and it made you cry even more. “ i love you and it pains me so much at the fact you concealed your illness from me.” “i’m really sorry, minnie, for everything” you mumbled, burning your face in the crook of his neck. “it’s okay, just promise you’ll be honest with me from now on, alright? i wanna know when you’re struggling, when something hurts you and how can i help you to feel better. we’ll get through it and you’ll be okay.” you nodded weakly. “you know it’ll only be getting worse, right? soon i won’t be able to walk.” “then i’ll be happy to carry you everywhere you’ll want me to. just please don’t stray from me anymore," he simply said, sealing his words with a soft, yet passionate kiss, into which you happily melted.

taglist: @lynlyndoll @iyenbread @flooo71 @skz-streamer @inniescandy-01

let me know if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist❤️

feedback and reblogs highly appreciated🫶🏽

#skz #stray kids #stray kids headcanons #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz au #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #skz comfort #stray kids comfort #skz angst #stray kids angst #skz x reader #skz fluff #kim seungmin #skz seungmin #stray kids seungmin #seungmin fluff #seungmin angst #seungmin comfort #seungmin imagines #seungmin scenarios #seungmin x reader

[hotsingledragon]

HIHI I AM IN LOVE WITH UR WRITINF OMG. especially the most recent request AHHH!! was enthralled when I saw reqs were open!

can u do something with a REALLY jealous miles where he just fucks reader silly or he’s frustrated and takes his anger out on her iykwim? also could u put in an aftercare scene if that’s not to much to ask for, i ADORE how you portray miles as a big softie for his lover and i want more fluff with him

hi, omg, this is SO overdue. i got carried away! hope you enjoy <3

jealous/frustrated miles quaritch

recom miles quaritch x recom fem!reader

word count: 3k

warnings: smut, rough piv sex, exhibitionism if you squint?, biting, tiniest mention of blood, spanking??

Deja Blue celebrates a successful mission in the recreation room. it’s relaxed, just a small gathering amongst the squad, though Miles Quaritch is rarely one to mingle. so he remains posted against the wall, drowning out the squad in front of him. he stares blankly, disinterested at the RDA screensaver on the television that phases through images of pandora’s landscapes and bridgehead city.

but his attention will stray when your twinkling laugh fills the room. miles will watch you in your playfully animated movements and that smile that rounds your cheeks. miles expression rarely leaves a scowl, but it softens in the slightest as he observes you from his post.

you’re just being friendly, it’s your first mission as a freshly recruited recombinant, and you want to celebrate. conversation comes so naturally for you- you’re smiling and laughing and so unaware of the perverted looks Fike, Brown and Wainfleet and are giving you. they’re sharing glances and snickering like children, each of their lame innuendos falling on deaf ears.

when the conversation shifts, miles’ ears perk as fike very loudly makes a crude pass at you. it doesn’t land- there’s an awkward silence for about three seconds before lyle and brown struggle to hold in chortles of laughter, and you can only frown in embarrassment.

now there’s an even angrier scowl cracking over miles features, and he glares at sean with wide eyes that are flooding with rage. if the colonel were a rational man, he would just cut the guy off with a sharp quip and dismiss the whole team for trials. but he’s not, he’s fucking pissed off.

so instead, Quaritch is pushing off the wall, quickly approaching in big strides until he spins fike in his chair. miles snatches the loose collar of his shirt and rears back in a punch that crashes into the left side of his face. there’s an audible crack of bone.

Fike yelps, turning everyone’s attention and the room erupts in shock. in an instant, it goes eerily silent as the team recognizes their colonel in an ill sodden mood.

Quaritch hauls fike closer, looking down on him with teeth bared. he’s absolutely livid, cropped ears pinned against his head, his tail high and thrashing behind him.

“i don’t wanna hear none of that shit comin’ out of your mouth ever fucking again, private.” quaritch hisses at the soldier before knocking him back. fike is dazed, cradling his broken nose as he flops into the rolling chair. miles turns, looking over the squad.

“every single one of you fucks needs t’find something better to do than running your god damn mouths. dismissed!” quaritch barks at the team, sure to make eye contact with the three offenders.

you move to file out out of the room with the others when the colonel catches your arm, completely halting your steps.

“not you, corporal.”

his grip on you is tight and unrelenting, pressing so firmly into your flesh that you think it might even bruise. your eyes flicker to meet his gaze, a furrow to your brow

miles is already looking down on you, harsh and fierce. he’s so visually striking up close, eyes glowing and features downturned a deep frown

you blink at him and lick your lips nervously. you recover quickly, nodding curtly with your eyes lowered. the colonel doesn’t let go even as the automatic doors quietly hiss shut.

the air is silent for all of three seconds before quaritch is roughly pushing your shoulders, forcing you to catch yourself against the large table. he’s on you in a heartbeat, pinning you flatly on its surface. his long limbs capture you easily, and you hiss in frustration. the nerve of him! you thrash under his steady hold, grabbing and kicking at him.

“excuse me! what the fuck?! you-“

you’re cut off as his palm pushes against your mouth.

“y’better watch that tone, missy.” quaritch warns you.

your protests are mumbled as you push at his shoulders and chest, you even lick his palm to get him off you. the colonel doesn’t budge

“y’really wanna do this right now?” his voice raises, eyes piercing into you.

his expression sends a clear message. you take a steadying breath through your nose, silent but glaring.

“that’s what i thought, now shut up an’ listen. flirting with the squad ain’t part of the deal, you understand?” forefinger pointing in your face

“flirting!” you try to mumble behind his hand, squirming in disbelief because you would never flirt with those guys. gross.

Quaritch shakes his head in doubt. “don’t act like you weren’t. y’know you did wrong, n’ now you’ll face the consequence.” the colonel says lowly, his hungry gaze floating from your heaving chest to the frustrated wrinkle between your brows. his eyes flick between yours, capturing the shift from agitation to mild curiosity. he finds the smallest, yet brightest fleck of desire in your amber eyes, too.

miles is replacing his palm with his slick tongue shoving into your mouth. he takes your wrists, single-handedly pinning them above your head and slotting his body against yours. he dominates the kiss, mouth sliding roughly over your own. he even nips at your bottom lip, puncturing the soft flesh. he groans at the metallic taste of your blood on his tongue.

you’re both spread out, bodies almost too big for the table you lay on. miles grinds into you purposefully, half hard and working his dick right over your center. it’s torturous with the layers of fabric between you, and you push your hips up to meet his own, kissing him harder.

miles growls, then he’s rucking your tank top over your chest. he groans in approval when exposing your breasts. quaritch will bite and suck on the soft mounds, marking you. his teeth will sink into your flesh, indenting your skin. the sting of it is followed by his rough tongue licking flatly over the punctures. it’s a stark contrast to his fingers tickling over your ribs. you huff out a breath of air, a small sound you cannot hold in any longer.

then quaritch pulls away abruptly, standing above you.

“don’t move. that’s a fuckin’ order, squeak.” he commands in his deep american drawl.

you can only look up at him with hooded eyes. “yes, sir” you hum. you let your body arch teasingly, pushing your chest out into the chill air and wiggling your hips cutely.

your belly swims with the perceived praise of his chuckles, the sound purring and warm. he’s even grinning, his hands falling to his hips as he takes in every bit of you splayed out for him. his eyes linger over your face, enjoying how flustered you look already with blushing cheeks and eyes swimming with lust. his gaze travels to your chest, your nipples peaked after his sensual assault. then he’s following the curve of your hips, and he’s awfully offended by the rough fabric of those tiny little shorts you wear all the damn time.

his fingers hook into the waistband, pushing to reveal thin lace covering your cunt, adorned with a cute little bow under your navel.

“well, look at you, corporal. who are you wearin’ these for, huh? private fike? prager?” he asks, somewhat teasing you, tracing under the hem before letting the elastic snap against your hip. he won’t admit it, but there is a part of miles that genuinely wants to know. he bites his lip.

you fluster and shake your head vigorously, pouting at him. “no sir… i-i just like how they look, do you like them?” you wonder, a mix of embarrassment and want making you blush to your chest.

quaritch bunches the delicate lace at your hip, and you gasp as he rips it from your body. it stings, chafing the soft skin between your thighs. he smirks as your tail wraps around your calf, a new habit of yours when anxious.

he stands to his full height, heavy footsteps echoing in the large recreation room. you’re suddenly reminded where you are, where the walls are mostly glass, and the chances of someone passing by are 100 fucking percent. you panic a little, eyes darting to the sliding doors then searching for quaritch.

“colonel? um, could we make sure the shutters are active?” you hope.

your eyes follow him even if he doesn’t spare you a glance, his own eyes trained past the glass. the colonel’s heavy footsteps halt when standing directly behind you, and you’re forced to tilt your head back and watch him upside down.

he’s looking down at you, cradling your jaw. “you’ll be alright, hon’. now open your mouth,” he taps your cheek twice.

you’re nervous now, a little hesitant as you move your jaw, sticking your tongue out flatly.

“atta girl” miles rumbles, lightly slapping your cheek. his nimble fingers fall to work on his belt. the metal clanks loudly and you breathe in anticipation, your gaze drawn towards the straining bulge just inches in front of you.

quaritch makes quick work of it, humming as the zipper passes over his hard length.

his cock nearly hits you in the face, the way it bobs and stands in front of you. it’s thicker than any dick you’ve ever witnessed, longer too. it’s swollen to a pretty shade of indigo, a healthy pink at his tip. he’s beading with precum, and you watch as it gathers and trails alongside the vein gracing the underside of his cock. your mouth goes dry, and you swallow thickly.

“keep that mouth open, girl.”

you obey, stretching your jaw even wider as quaritch guides his leaking tip to your mouth. he’s soft with it at first, guiding his tip into your mouth and you hum at the salty taste of him. you kiss the tip sweetly, then begin leaving your wet tongue over his shaft.

the colonel hums. “you’re good, darlin’, take some more.” and you nearly gag as his length touches the back of your throat. you recover and find your rhythm, taking more as you bob your head.

eventually miles will be fucking your throat, grasping at your breasts as if they give him leverage to thrust into you.

“fuckn slut, can’t get enough of my dick down your throat, huh?” he growls, sending a series of quick slaps over your tits.

but you’re liking this too much, so he gets mean. he’ll shove inside your mouth, unmoving and letting your throat lurch tightly around his cock.

then miles will begin to touch you. you whine around his length when he pinches your nipples, calloused fingers rolling over the sensitive buds. he smacks the plump flesh of your breasts, and his fingers lightly trail to your soft center, touching your folds lightly before landing a quick slap on your pussy. it makes you jolt, your hips twitch and that earns you another slap.

“i gave you an order, corporal. quit fucking moving.”

and miles just keeps fucking your face. the the feeling’s too much, you’re gagging harshly and pushing your palm against his thigh to slow his thrusts, to no avail. he’s thoroughly using you, and you’re unable to do anything but simply take it. you remind yourself to breathe, trying to bob your throat at the same pace.

“there ya’ go, good girl,” quaritch moans, his syllables drawn out in pleasure. he lets two fingers push through your wet slit, running back and forth from your clit to your hole. you moan around him, and quaritch groans with satisfaction

“you’re so wet, it’s filthy. you gettin’ off on bein’ used like this? dirty girl,” quaritch smirks in a lustful haze. he’ll rub you quick and fast over your clit, making you squeal around his dick.

he’s hunched over you when he comes, letting a groan erupt from his chest. he pulls back to watch his seed slipping past your lips. you’re ruined, coughing and heaving for breath, eyes filled with tears and mouth so pretty and swollen.

“turn and face me,” quaritch would command you lowly. you pick yourself up,

your naked form agile, beautiful, flexible as you sit on the edge of the table. miles stands tall in front of you, eyes running wildly over your body and you watch him expectantly.

suddenly his hands are on you, holding your hips and lifting you off the table and your feet plop onto the cold ceramic floor. then quaritch is twirling your shoulders- pushing your chest against the table. it’s only moments before his dick slides into you, and it’s almost too much. there’s no going easy, just the sudden plunge of his dick into your body. it stretches you wide; a deep, burning ache inside of you. you pinch your eyes shut, waiting for the sensation to melt into pleasure.

“cmon, you can take more than that,” miles taunts. his palm presses right between your shoulder blades, pinning you as he delivers a series of long, deep thrusts. again, you remind yourself to breathe

“that’s it darlin’, loosen up for me. so fckn tight around my cock-“ he grits behind clenched teeth, picking up to a steady and delicious rhythm

his cock keeps pressing into that sensitive spot that nearly blinds you with pleasure. your eyes roll into your skull and you whine pathetically

“those virgins wouldn’t know what to do with you-“

miles’ abdomen presses against your back, leaning over you and biting the elongated cartilage of your ear. his hand takes your hip, angling you to take him even deeper and it makes you cry out, squirming under him.

“-wouldn’t know how to fuck this little pussy,” he mutters, his cheek presses to yours. you’re whimpering with every deep thrust, his cockhead ramming into your quivering insides.

miles tongue curls to catch the salty tears spilling over cheeks, caught in the feel of your tight spongy walls and the sweet sounds that fall from your parted lips

“workin’ me up, baby. gonna make me come inside that tight cunt-you want that, huh? want me to fill you up?” he growls into your ear, gripping your hips tighter.

you try your best to nod, cheek pressed into the table and hiding your whines behind your bitten lips.

“none of that, now. lemme hear you.”

then miles fingers are stuffing below your hips, smacking your clit before rubbing tight fast circles over the sensitive bundle.

your drawn like a bow with its arrow ready to fly, muscles quivering and aching for sweet release. your pussy is so tight around quaritch, locking around him to a point where he can no longer pull out of you, can only grind deeper into your slick heat.

“damn, kitty, you’re fuckin tight! you gonna come?” miles asks you mockingly, slowing his circles on your clit to match his lurid thrusts.

“yes sir!” you whine, broken moans clawing out of your chest

miles’ cheek presses to yours again. “tell me how good it is. tell me how good i’m fuckin’ you n’ how bad you wanna come.”

“s-so good! sir-i’m coming!” your sentence choppy with your cries of pleasure.

the bow inside of you snaps, and you scream with pleasure as you’re flooded with the hot sensation unfurling in your belly.

“that’s it, sugar, there ya’ go.” quaritch moans. your orgasm lasts so long, drawn out as miles keeps pushing into your cunt at a wild, fiery pace. he continues to rub across your clit, pressing harder when you attempt to squirm away

“i’m the only one allowed to have you like this, got it, squeak? no one else.” the colonel grinds behind his teeth, beginning to lose his rhythm as he fucks into you.

you can only cry out, your voice raw from the pleasure miles draws out of you. you’re shaking with overstimulation, letting these poor little whimpers fall from you plump mouth.

“shit! go on, honey. let everyone know who you belong to. you’re mine, now,” quaritch grits out. his grip on you is bruising, thrusts growing erratic as he chases the ache in his lower abdomen.

miles begins to let out his own breathy moans, rocking into you until he’s buried to the hilt. he grunts with a last few thrusts, and you whimper weakly at the feel of his cum spurting inside of you.

—

his body covers yours entirely, heavy as he comes down and settles his forehead between your shoulders. you slump against the table, hiccuping to catch your breath. quaritch is no better, breathing heavily against your back. you feel the tired ache through your body, and you’re grateful when miles pulls out of you. miles lifts himself, still holding your hips.

quaritch takes a moment to admire your form slumped against the table. your eyelashes are wet with tears, cheeks flushed and swollen mouth taking in stuttering hiccups of air. your hair is disheveled, bangs sticking to your skin and his eyes follow the braid that twists down your back. he follows the taper of your waist to your plump bum, and he can’t help but reach and squeeze at your flesh. he spreads you, watching his cum leak from your hole.

he notices your wobbly knees, smirking to himself. he finds your shorts, sliding them up your thighs and to your waist. he pulls your top to cover you properly, scoops you up in big arms and carries you towards the lounge

his hand splays across your back as he walks. “did good, kid, took it like a champ.” he settles into the cushions, pulling you across his lap. you tuck yourself into his chest.

“m’sorry if i was a bit rough on ya,”

there’s a beat of silence, until he finishes with “y’seemed to like it though,” he quirks, brows raising and letting out a dry chuckle that reveals his pink tongue and sharp canines.

you snort and roll your eyes playfully, hiding your face in his shoulder. he’s glad to see your reaction, he laughs and plants a kiss on your hair before resting his head on top of yours, cheek presses against your soft raven hair

you’re both silent for moment, your eyes flutter tiredly as miles’ fingertips run back and forth over your thigh.

“goddamn dickheads, let ‘em try sayin somethin’ stupid like that again. i won’t be so nice. fuckin’ morons,” quaritch grumbles, pouting.

notes: OH MY GOD. i’m so sorry, this is long overdue! ive been in a huge personal transition- job promotion, moving, all the things! and i wanted to do you justice with this request. i tend to characterize miles as a little softer than he actually is, and i hope i captured him a bit better this time around! hope you enjoy sweet sparklingenvy. always happy to see you in my inbox!

#miles quaritch #colonel miles quaritch #recom miles quaritch #miles quaritch smut #avatar 2009 #atwow #atwow smut #miles quaritch x reader #my work #i love requests!!! #send me more!!!! #avatar the way of water #avatar miles quaritch

[chris-continues]

Unconventional, Unusual, and Unapologetically Yours

Inspired by this text post I made!

In which you enter a relationship with an unfamiliar creature.. yet he’s the sweetest person you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.

TAGS: @beanibon @vashfantasy @h4venpha @lune010

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

Available on ao3!

NOTES: I cranked this out in like less than an hour I think. Uncanny Vash makes my fingers type like the fucking wind LMAO- ALSO I MIGHT DO PT2 <33 ^^lmk if you don’t want to be tagged! Some people asked and I know others like uncanny Vash a lot, so I thought you’d enjoy. I tried to add a bit of creature Vash as well, please feel free to comment/reblog if you enjoyed! And lmk any ideas you have :D

Your boyfriend deviated from what one would call the standard partner. 

Well, not that such a thing was negative. He was by far one of the most beautiful people you’d ever seen, that much you noted from your first encounter. An abandoned warehouse, where you’d been forced to do an odd job when tight for cash. “Get a photo of the infamous Humanoid Typhoon!”, they said, giving you directions out of town. The warehouse then had appeared nothing short of shady, with its shabby walls, unfamiliar state, and a slight mildewy smell you weren’t too fond of. 

That would soon change, becoming your safe haven, as you recalled how you’d met. 

Your tentative steps inside, phone flashlight beaming as you explored for a good few minutes before- “Ah!” You jolted, the wide smile of a tall man, startling you. He apologetically waved his hands before you, attempting to reassure you, “Aw god, I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to scare you!” 

“It’s uh, fine, yeah.” You cleared your throat, turning your flashlight down slightly, “Who are you?” “Vash.” He chirped, quite literally. “And you?”, he offered his hand, ever so charming. If you recalled correctly, his pupils dilated a bit too much at the touch of your hand against his.

Humanoid. Not human.

It took you an embarrassingly long time to connect the dots, your attempt to search for the man of the hour futile (or successful, depending on how you viewed it). Searching for any extending corridors, or perhaps a hidden room. His company was originally slightly unsettling, as he was a stranger just tagging along for the ride, but he had no ill intent and with each sweet remark you found your night to not be a complete failure, swearing you’d return next weekend, same time to find the Humanoid Typhoon together. 

It turned into a game of stalling. 

Searching the same wall as last week, fingers tapping at the eroding wood of the building. His fingertips had brushed yours a handful of times as he blamed it on the darkness, a slight squeak leaving him each time, and maybe it was your fatigue riddled mind but you almost swore a slight glow emanated from him each time. 

After the 3rd week of searching you really didn’t care about finding this Typhoon guy anymore, figuring he was just some urban legend. Why did you keep going? For Vash, of course. He was a great listener, funny, and seemed to enjoy your company, and you really enjoyed his, and by god were you absolutely horrendous when it came to romance. So continued your pining of poking and prodding at an abandoned warehouse at the late hours of night. Too nervous to ask for his number (you found out later he didn’t have a phone), too shy to initiate anything further. 

Aha, until one night. 

Your searching had become less investigative of the building and moreso of each other, legs crossed and sitting in the middle of the warehouse with music playing from your phone on occasion. Discussions ranging from god knows what, each interesting in their own right. What confused you was that something as mundane as you telling a story in which you got your neighbors mail left him at the edge of his seat, but you simply chalked it up as him being a good listener and eager to engage in conversation, (that being partially true). Exhaustion creeped at you one night though, your horrendous sleeping habits having caught up with you as you rested your head against the derelict floorboards and gazed up at the ceilings. 

Vash had a habit of humming to fill in silences, and much like the rest of him you found yourself inexplicably drawn to it.. So sue you for being soothed to sleep by such a thing.

He didn’t tell you until much later, but that night he’d let his hand graze the back of yours, feathers peeking from beneath his jacket with the slight bumps ever so comforting against your skin. You let out the cutest hums, rolling just a bit closer to him.

His breath caught in his throat, as he let himself touch your hand just a bit more. His long, inhuman tongue laved over his several rows of sharp, unnatural teeth in a fidgeting motion. His pupils expanded, admiring you. You always appeared a bit nervous or tense around him- of course that diminished over time, he noted, but why were you so nervous? God, he hated being like this sometimes. To be.. A normal human companion of yours was something he found he craved. Every week, waiting for you in this dingy, subpar hiding place..

You were the highlight of his week. 

He had to hold himself back from instinctively curling into your side, wrapping his lanky limbs around you and allowing his vertebrae to extend to his full height.. Several feet taller than you. He wants to engulf you whole, keep you forever close and cherish you with chirps you couldn’t possibly understand. 

When you awake, he lays beside you. His body is as stiff as the wooden planks lining the warehouse floors, glancing at you as you finally make a move.

You scoot an inch closer.

His breath hitches in his throat. 

He can feel a draft making its way through the building,your body shivering as you shift just a bit closer.

“You.. are you cold?” He hesitates, arm stiffening as the fabric of his jacket meets the sleeve of your shirt. 

“Yeah, kinda..” You murmur, eyes darting away from him then back to him- god, you could stare at him and never tire of it. 

Your arms are pressed against one another, his fingers- wait, they’re uncharacteristically smooth, toying with the end of your sleeve. Oh god. The cutest guy you’ve ever met and he’s- oh god- you’ve dreamt of this more than you’d care to admit, hugging a pillow to sleep most nights, mind drifting to the cute guy you meet every weekend outside of town. 

Your fingers graze his once more, breathing pausing once more.

He intertwines his fingers with yours.

You think you’re going to die.

He chirps happily, and with your curiosity getting the better of you, you can’t help but ask, “What’s that noise mean?”

He blinks owlishly, sheepish smile crossing his face, “Oh uh, I don’t know really. It just.. happens?”  

“Ah, mhm. That’s fair.”

You peek down to your intertwined hands, only to see-

“Vash?”

His mouth gapes open to speak, and you get another peek of his- oh god, now that it’s morning you can see better.

Rows upon rows of his sharp teeth. His mouth forcibly staying together in one piece rather than three. Unnaturally long limbs. Feathers sprouting from him. 

“You.. you’re not human, are you?”

Oh god. He scared you. He’s so ugly, and you’re frozen, backing away slightly- “Oh my god you’re not- are you?”

The Humanoid Typhoon.

“Yeah. I.. I am.”

It takes you a moment to collect your bearings, mouth agape. “You.. you  never planned to hurt me, right?” Your eyes are wide, hands in your lap as you now sit up, legs criss crossed. 

“God no! Never! Oh god, I'm so sorry.” He buried his face in his hands, hiding it from the peeking rays of sunlight peering through the wood of the warehouse. “I don’t try to hurt anyone really, it just.. happens.” He swallowed thickly, “You can leave, if you’d like. I won’t hold it against you.”

You shake your head adamantly, “No, no I trust you. Just surprised me is all. I’ve never seen anything like it, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Vash.” Your hands fidget within your lap, “I enjoy your company and you not being human won’t change that.”

He peeked at you from his fingers, pupils dilated. “..really?”

You nodded. 

He certainly didn’t appear very convinced, but as you offered one of your previously fidgeting hands out to him.. he took it. Hand much larger in yours, inhumanly smooth- you found upon closer inspection he had no fingerprints. 

You stayed like that for god knows how long, until you checked your phone, “Shit! I’m sorry Vash, I’ve got to-” Aw god, his face, he was so cute..

“I’ll return soon.”

He walked you to your car parked outside. 

Your next few visits were a lot more different. He never directly said it, but before long you started staying the night, pressed close to one another, easing closer and closer to one another with hesitant touches. His eyes pleaded for your company each time you left, a small pout forming on his lips. 

You hated leaving him each time. 

Your first kiss was sweet, clumsy, and absolutely adorable. Just like him. 

He laid atop you, the world’s best weighted blanket, wrapping his unproportionate, lanky limbs around you to pull you flush against him. “I like you Vash. A lot.” You admitted into his hair quietly, shyly kissing the crown of his head. He chirped excitedly, a few clicks escaping him as he shifted to have your eyes meet, lips peppering pecks on your cheeks, jaw, and the corners of your lips. 

You both were too nervous to initially confess, just basking in one another’s company. 

“Like you too.” A series of inhuman noises escaped him, elated by your flustered giggles. 

He almost felt bad for temporarily silencing you with a shy and quick peck to your lips. His eyes widened, before going in for another. 

Another, another, another, purring contentedly as he pressed closer to you in hopes to mold you both into one. 

Your hands tentatively reached to cradle his face, grinning into the dorky kiss you two shared. 

Now though? You glance at him, wrapped in a mini nest you two share atop your bed. He nuzzles into your neck, teeth gently nibbling at the flesh as the rays of morning peek through your bedroom window. His legs hang off the bed with how tall he is, but he couldn’t care less.

Is it unconventional? Sure. Unusual? Most definitely.

But you’ve never been more happy than you have with him.

#chris writes #uncanny vash #Vash the Stampede #vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #Trigun #trimax #tristamp #Trigun Vash #vash trigun #tri98 #trigun 98 #trigun stampede #fluff #Trigun fluff #tristamp vash #vash tristamp #monster cuddler #monstercuddler #fanfic #drabble

[azaarchiive]

ᥫ✦azariah’s solar system

notes: hi guys, this is just something for origination and practicality l. i do take suggestions btw! open to anything except noncom, bodily fluids (except for the white one) or anything glorified abuse or anything of the sort. pls submit smth wanna prove im a good writer. proper rules list will be coming soon tho.

Haikyuu

semi eita

• holiday girlfriend - ON HOLD

- you were one of semi’s many flings every time he flew to (country), always waiting for him with open arms. what happens when he comes back to a baby bump? (series)

hinata shoyo

• only the elite

- y/n is stinking rich and shoyo is the complete opposite. what happens when y/n oddly falls for him despite her equally rich friends and boyfriend and introduces him to the fucked up life in hiroo (series)

oikawa tooru

• blackout

- a cute little fluffy one shot about a blackout in your neighbourhood and what you both do to pass that time

MHA

• fanfic bakugou vs real size

- katsuki finds you reading a fanfic about him (one shot)

JJK

gojo satoru

• be mine?

- satoru is never second, so why aren’t you with him right now? (one shot) (valentine’s special)

• countdown

- your new year was welcomed with a kiss from the one and only gojo satoru. womaniser of the east quickly sees the damage it’s caused and starts to generate a little white lie pertaining both of your marital status to try and salvage both (mostly his) reputation. (smau) (series)

TO BE MADE: theres quite a few spoiler alert

unlikely paring; atsumu miya

• “being blamed for a school fire and going from the it girl to an arson freak is not ideal. the school luckily scavengers its losses and it rebuilt but something seems different, especially after a dead body is found. now you have to team up with the only guy that knows you’re innocent despite him being your biggest victim since middle school: atsumu miya.”

soo, what do we think? :3. y/n is a massive bully but changes her ways for the better fr, atsumu, suna and osumu are stem nerds. series

gangsta paradise; oikawa tooru

• “you’re a sweetheart who moved into a ruthless and dangerous area and you just wanted to make friends, who knew that ‘friend’ would turn out to be a gang member? it’s not like you did.”

gangsta oikawa (lol), sweetheart y/n. series

back to me; suna rintaro

• “you and suna had just broke up, after three long years it was over, at least you thought it was. what, you thought suna was gonna let you go that easily?”

i mean i wouldn’t call him toxic but i guess that depends on what you think. this is truly just a funny little fic about him trying to get you back. series

write it in your blog; bakugou katsuki

• “you are the most successful journalist in the whole of japan! and you’re only 22, however your whole blog is based on your hatred in the hero society, especially bakugou katsuki. which only grows when you post about a highly confidential case which you have hot evidence about and he turns up at your house.”

heheh reader is rich in this but bakugou is even richer. series

on his birthday; todoroki shoto

• “in which you died on his birthday and he’s learning how to cope with it”

idk whether i should make it into a proper series or just a long ass fic

i hate this place; kiyoomi sakusa

• “your friend group is toxic as fuck yet you find solace in someone who arguable better than the rest.”

don’t know whether to make the friend group ocs or haikyuu boys. long ahh one shot

before it happens; osamu miya

• “osamu sadly took his own life, yet you have a chance to save him by going back in time and stopping him. through that, you fall back in love with him despite dating his best friend rintarou.”

meh idk i’m not exactly feeling it but maybe when i start writing it ill like it more. might be a long ahh series.

FACE2FACE; akaashi keiji smau

• “you and akaashi have been texting for a couple weeks now, yet have never seen each others faces. when the training camp roles in you have no choice to face him… but instead you don’t and pretend your a whole different girl.”

black reader, ideally has the boho, earthy aesthetic and believes in tarot readings/astrology! (sorry to anyone that doesn’t believe in them :(( ) series.

tell ur boyfriend; gojo satoru

• “satoru and y/n have a one night stand and he can’t get his mind off of her, satoru just had to have her. not like that would be a struggle- he gets whatever he wants- who cares about her boyfriend! who happens to be toji fushiguro… as well as his child’s biological father..”

no-curses au, collage au, spoilt gojo fr, he takes care of megumi who is around 7

ever after high x jjk

• it’s literally just that, royals and rebels with curses in the mix

rebel(lol)!reader x itadori

• series of their dynamic, how the got together and what their relationship means to them.

y/n is like that one kid that just never does the school work, is always in trouble and is always late

detective!gojo x lawyer reader

• murder mystery series with love in the mix heheh

i am not creative enough to make my own cases so i will be ripping off of mr monk (if you know, you know)

#authors #haikyuu #haikyuu x you #hq x reader #black reader #haikyuu x black reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu oneshot #hq drabble #masterlist #jjk drabbles #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk spoilers #mha #mha x reader #mha spoilers #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu sorcerer #jujustsu kaisen x reader #my hero academia #my hero academy fanfiction #my hero fanfic #my hero headcanons #bakugou katsuki #semi eita x reader #miya atsumu

[chromations]

The Robert Plant post that's been on my mind since the jimmy post.

EDIT: tumblr fucked up and deleted half the post AND put it without tags. Now complete

It's easier to write about psychology I relate to. To dive into something so clear, so easy to point out the faults of. Writing Jimmy's story was easy. What I'm writing now is less than.

This is how Led Zeppelin impacted Robert Plant. As usual, feel free to add, and the rest is under the cut. This is gonna be sad (and long)

Anyone can spot how, now, Robert reflects on his Zeppelin days with disdain. He doesn't perform nor relate to the majority of his Zeppelin songs anymore. Of course, just as the rest of the band, he's sick of the press asking for another tour. Another reunion. Another reminder of a dark spot in who we see as the golden god.

What happened?

What *didn't* happen?? At first, Zeppelin started out and grazed the sun. And the sun had been spun for years, so to speak. Popularity, sex, riches, women, freedom, *music*. Who wouldn't want that? Of course, there had been the lyrics written by a guy in his early 20s, the many meanings eluding and warping to the ears of the listener. There was criticism over the different lifestyles, tear gassing, police raids, there was Jimmy and Lori. Even recounted by Jimmy Page (Through the On This Day feature), they'd perform in Memphis, only to be stopped by a man with a gun when they'd wanted to perform an encore.

Still, each life had its faults. Robert would write Sick Again's lyrics with the groupees in mind, with the underlying sadness for what Lori had gone through.

Come 1975, and the wax starts to melt. Jimmy starts on heroin at some point during their tours that year. After Plant's family flies out, he and Robert vacation in Morocco. After, in Greece, Robert is driving with his family, and they get into an accident: Almost fatal on Maureen, a broken ankle + elbow on Robert, and bruises on the kids. Back in England, they'd receive care... Only for Plant to have to leave England due to his tax exile. He'd spend the time in a wheelchair, writing and developing Presence. Achilles Last Stand, about his time in Morocco with Jimmy, previously called The Wheelchair Song. Tea For One, about the loneliness and despair on tour, of being away from his family. For Your Life is about a friend of Robert's who had been heavy in drugs. Quote from faroutmagazine, it's reflected that Presence was "a cry from the depths"/"a cry of survival"

Presence is often shat on for what's perceived as a lackluster, boring, rehashed album. While I see where these statements come from, Presence happens to be my favorite album.

In 76, Presence is released, and in the same year, Zeppelin's concert film The Song Remains The Same, to make up for the canceled tours in pursuit of Plant's recovery.

1977 comes around. American tour. Everyone's unsure if the band will perform the same after such a hiatus, but it works out. Mostly. Page, as in my other post, is emotionally unavailable, to say the least, in his own struggles. The band in total is still imbibing in heavy drug usage (JPJ, however, more discreet with his use and not to be found in embarrassing situations), but the tour breaks records, a heavy hitting comeback.

Icarus falls, the zeppelin crashes.

Come summer, the third leg just there, and Robert gets the call: Karac Plant, his son, passed while he was away. The cause had been an unknown stomach illness, and he couldn't have even been there for his son. Gut wrenching. Karac was 5.

Tour canceled, and the last time Zeppelin played North America, Plant flies back home with Bonham and Richard Cole at his side. Jimmy and Peter Grant remain in America, while Jones takes time for vacation. During his time of immense grief, Plant heavily considered quitting music all together to be a teacher, as he just wanted to be with his family. While everyone else was off flitting about, Robert says John Bonham was the only one really at his side for the entire process. Out of the members of Zeppelin, Bonzo was the only one attending Karac's funeral at Plant's side. The darkest, most heartbreaking moment of your life, and your friends aren't around (Of course Bonham was, of course he was around. They were best friends). Jones had said, later, with what Elvis dying, all he knew was that he (Robert) should have his space. Lacking etiquette and not knowing consolation shouldn't mean you (in context, Jones and Page) lack the ability to be there for your friend, though.

Robert never fully got over Karac's death. I wouldn't blame him. He wrote multiple songs over the years honoring his son (All My Love, Blue Train, I Believe).

In addition, he would have a talk with himself, in which he would quit drugs. Quote below.

After everything of 1977, the future of Led Zeppelin became uncertain. Just about silence for a long time, while Plant went through the grief process.  About 1977, he says: “[it was] the year it all stopped for me. Nothing could make it all right again and nothing ever will.” 

"During the absolute darkest times of my life when I lost my boy and my family was in disarray, it was Bonzo who came to me."

Finally, Page and Bonham convince Plant to stay in music, to stay with Zeppelin, when Jimmy told him to take a break until he's ready, and that the band is nothing without Robert.

Zeppelin returns in 1979, though the light has dimmed. Jimmy and Bonham lose themselves further. If you take a look, In Through The Out Door is largely about Robert's feelings once more. When recording and writing, it's often said that the band had split in two: Sober (Plant and JPJ) and not sober (Page, Bonham) . While Plant and Jones wrote and composed, the other two would fail to show up on time, sometimes even at all. As previously mentioned, All My Love and I'm Gonna Crawl are tributes to Karac. In The Evening is about the struggles and stress faced even through his stardom and wealth.

Carouselambra tells the story of Zeppelin's fall. From kings, gods, to rust. In particular, it details the loneliness and betrayal felt by Plant after his band mates failed to be there for him.

"Where was your word, where did you go?

Where was your helping, where was your bow?

Dull is the armour, cold is the day

Hard was the journey, dark was the way, way

I heard the word, I couldn't stay, oh

I couldn't stand it another day, another day"

In particular, "Where was your word, where did you go?" struck with me.

The rest of the album is filled with lighter, story centered, and explorational songs. Plant knew that while Zeppelin was there, it was nearing its end. Come Knebworth, a great show, but Robert is different, you see it in his eyes. The naivety, the innocence, the belief that he could have it all, has faded.

And nobody else is the same at knebworth, either.

Fast forward a year and John Bonham dies, god rest his soul. Led Zeppelin breaks up. Robert loses his best friend and son in the span of 3 years.

Icarus burns. The zeppelin crashes.

Robert distances himself from the rock scene, exchanging most of his heavy vocals to explore different genres of music. He shies away from Zeppelin, but the public is calling for more. An encore. A reunion. Each one goes wrong, between being too stoned and ill timed, the improper rehearsals, the matter not being taken seriously.

Page and Plant starts and Robert finds himself back in his old shoes, polished and new. He enjoyed it this time around, digging up unreleased material and playing it "Unledded."

The masses want more. The golden god, playing the same old tune and having to visit the same old wounds of life. They want the sun to shine like it had been touched again, but the sun shined differently back then. The public dooms him to the same old song he's been fighting to escape, but the song doesn't remain the same, the song has changed.

He's still beautiful. Still Robert Plant. But he's not the same as he was, he's not the bright, young boy performing Stairway to the crowd for the first time, or 50 playing as Page and Plant. He's past that.

December 10th, 2007, O2 Arena, London. He says good evening. One last show. Jason Bonham on drums and backing vocals. John Paul Jones, keyboard and bass guitar. Jimmy Page, electric guitar. And himself, Robert Plant. A legendary show, honored to Ahmet Ertegun.

After, Jones and Jimmy want to continue with a reunion. Robert doesn't, won't. He has a solo career. He's fought to free himself from the golden boy he was. This isn't him anymore. These aren't his songs.

He grows disconnected from his songs of Zeppelin, a lifetime ago. He grows to hate stairway, until it's 2012 at the Kennedy Honors Center. Heart performs Stairway to Heaven with a choir and Jason Bonham. Robert tears up, seeing his best friends son out there. In that moment, he grows to appreciate Stairway: Only if it's sung by a younger voice, though.

The media wants more. The people want more. They will always want more, it's never enough, but he can't sing a song that's lost its meaning to him.

Robert Plant is a man of many times. The golden god we know of now is eternally different from who he was. I will always love him through all walks of life, each and every stage.

#robert plant #led zeppelin #tw child death #i guess

[dickheadcanons]

Your brain is literally gynormous. Do you think Damian's and Dick's relationship is paternal? Because, as someone who has actually had to raise their sibling (do not recommend) it looks more like a guy that had too much in his plate trying to be the best caregiver he could, but not really being a parent, if that makes sense. I feel like the idea of him wanting to adopt him feels like kind of a retcon, couldn't really see it in the og run. But of course, it could be because it's not exactly the same as my experience (abusive father, incapable mother, yknow the drill). What do you think? All your posts are so good.

Also while you're at it, what do you think of Dick as a parent? Some elseworlds have played with the concept, and main continuity did something too with Olivia but T*m Tayl*r fucked that up too. I also wonder how Damian would be as a dad, but I don't think I've ever seen any stories with it.

omg anon thank you and thank you for asking!! this is literally one of my favorite topics!! i was thinking about making a post on this and now you gave me the excuse for it!!

Long story short, I don't think that “parental” is a binary thing. I mean, I know several bio-parents who are just guys with too much on their plates, trying to be the best they can, you know? And people can see parent figures in all kinds of relationships that aren’t blood or traditional moms/dads, especially with people who didn't know each other from birth. There are a million ways to be parented, and a million ways to act as a parent.

The way I think about it is, is Dick Damain's John Grayson? No, I don't think so.

But is Dick Damian's Bruce Wayne? Yes. Totally. Absolutely.

More under the cut bc I have a lot of thoughts.

I think to talk about Dick and Damian, we have to start with Dick and Bruce. So much about Dick and Damian is a reflection of the original Dynamic Duo, and I think that's very much the case with this element as well. From the start of their very long comic history, Dick and Bruce have been dancing around their relationship. We get early comics that say they're "like" father and son, we have Bruce saying he couldn't care about Dick more than if he was Bruce's son, but we also have places where they call each other their best friends, where they act more like brothers, etc etc.

When it comes to who our parents are, I think there is the responsibility, and the result. Certain people have the responsibility, the duty, to be our parents, and sometimes (because death or illness or being shitty people), they aren't able to meet those responsibilities. That never removes the responsibility; they don't stop being the parent. But they aren't able to create the result of us becoming good stable adults. That's where other people can step in, where the parental figure appears, and those are the people that we actually point to when we say "they made me the person I am today."

In fandom, we see a lot of Dick not wanting Bruce to replace his father, of him asking not to be adopted. I think this is a fine characterization that works with who Dick is, but Bruce is actually the one to say that he is not going to replace Dick's father. He says it completely unprompted, too. This is withholding the responsibility of being Dick's parent from Bruce, keeping him at a distance and reserving it as an honor for someone who can't hold it anymore, even as Bruce demands responsibility for literally everything else about Dick.

And I think that it's very telling of what Bruce's idea of a father is. The thing about having a dead parent at a young age is that the person of your parents is still tangled in the role of parent in your life; Mom is mom, not Martha, and because she's dead, the image of both Martha and "mom" is frozen. For Bruce, the relationship of father and son is frozen in the relationship of specifically his father and him. Of course Bruce is not Dick's father; Bruce himself is so different from what his conception of a father is. And as a fellow son, for Bruce, someone who just got back from 7 years abroad studying to be Batman, for whom the nearly 20 year old wound is still fresh, the idea of even wanting another father doesn't make sense, particularly for a boy that Bruce identifies with so hard that he becomes the third person ever to know who Batman is.

This looming memory is even worse when it's Dick's turn to be Batman. While Bruce looks at Dick and sees the memory of his own loss, the shadow of his own grief, Dick is looking at Damian and seeing Bruce. Dick knows very well who Damian lost; Dick is grieving what Damian lost more than Damian is. Bruce couldn't conceive of replacing a father, but Dick is struggling to imagining himself replacing Bruce at his job, much less who he was in his personal relationships.

But even if Damian isn't Dick's responsibility, Dick doesn't hesitate to care about Damian's future. "Who's going to save him if we don't?" At the start of the DickBats era, Dick isn't looking at Damian as a family member, really. He's looking at Damian as a victim, abet a very involved, very dangerous one. It's how Bruce looked at Dick too, before he had any reason to know that this kid would become something more to him. But, like Bruce, what Dick does to save Damian is bring him into the thing that is most precious to him; Batman. The mission. Saving people. A way to live in the world.

I know saying someone is the Batman to their Robin is like, a joke at this point. Something unbelievably cheesy. But you google "iconic duos" and Batman and Robin are one of the first responses. There's a reason for the joke. So imagine you are Robin, and your Batman is dead. And you have to go and find a new partner. Dick making Damian his Robin is heavy, just as heavy to me as adoption papers. Bruce made Dick his partner without any idea of what that meant. Dick, and the audience, had 70 years of expectation on what Dick and Damian could be. Dick making Damian Robin was a very specific claim, far stronger imo than just claiming him as a son would have been.

Because, to be honest (and speak to your other question), I don't think Dick thinks a lot about being a parent. I don't really think it's that important to him. Dick is a leader, a mentor, he deals with a ton of teenagers and kids through his vigilante work, he goes to Tim's sidekick parent's meetings and takes Jason skiing and more than that, he's also young. He's in his 20s. He should be at the club. I think he probably thinks he'll have kids in an abstract way, but it's not something he's looking for, consciously or unconsciously. He's not searching for connection, or to fix his mistakes or his past, the things that lead Bruce to adopting sidekicks. He'd be a great dad, and I think we see him being pretty good with his Elseworlds kids, but Dick is a very practical person, and him taking a kid in (vs finding somewhere else they can go) is not really the practical choice.

Except for one kid. There's just been one kid with legitimately no where else to go, where Dick is truly the only option, because going home meant only bad things for him. Dick made Damian part of his family in the ways that mattered to them both in that moment. With their lives, adoption doesn't really make a huge material difference on custody (if Damian wanted to leave, Dick couldn't have stopped him; Damian has access to basically unlimited money and can feed and clothe and wash himself. and possibly already has a phd.), and Dick wanted Damian to choose, anyway. If I recall correctly, Dick says he didn't think about taking Damian with him until Bruce comes back. He thought about taking Damian with him, thought that Damian might be better with Dick (his partner!!!!) than even with Bruce, his dad, the person Dick loves so much, only in the face of them being separated.

Meanwhile Damian, for all his blustering about how Dick needs to "earn" his respect, warms up to Dick startlingly quickly. For Damian, who had never known a father, who in his initial run hadn't even known his mother for more than two years, whose other male family is Ra’s al Ghul, his father is Batman. Even in Tomasi's kinder depiction of Damian's childhood, Damian only knows the Bat. And when he meets Bruce, the first thing he expresses is disappointment. Bruce the man is underwhelming and then goes and dies. So much for the mythic hero!

And then he meets Dick. Who manages to teach Damian something, who doesn't discount his skills even when he's wrong. Who proves that he is better at being Batman than Damian, and shows that he wants Damian around. And, even more importantly, who doesn't die. Dick is stable in a world constantly in flux. Damian screws up a lot in that run, and he leaves for long stretches of it, but Dick is always there when he gets back. There's no blame here, but the truth is that Dick is the one who stays.

Bruce was Damian's father, but what does that mean to someone whose never met a father at all? Bruce might have tried to connect with Damian before he died, but he doesn’t do it in a way that works. He doesn’t give Damian trust, he doesn’t encourage him in the ways Damian finds important…the first person to do that is Dick. Dick gives Damian responsibility, makes him part of the team. It could be argued that Damian didn’t deserve it, but we’re not talking about deserving. We’re talking about what worked. It sounds like as good an idea as making a tiny 8 year old acrobat a sidekick, but it undeniably worked for both Damian and Dick. Does that mean that either of these relationships were parental in the way that we think of it in the real world, in the way that a child psychologist would say is good and healthy? I have no idea. But they are the most parental in the absence of any other parents, and I think that means a lot.

Unfortunately, we don't get to actually see the dissolution of Dick and Damian's partnership. DC conveniently skips over showing us Bruce coming back and Dick becoming Nightwing again; preNew 52, Dick is still Batman with Damian even when Bruce returns, and in the New 52, he's been Batman "Before" and we don't really see the end, just a vague aftermath. But if it did take that kind of change to make them realize their relationship had a flavor of "parent and child", had the makings of something like a father and son, well, they'd just be following in the original Batman's footprints.

#asks #dick grayson #damian wayne #bruce wayne #this is a fucking essay #batman meta #And I didn't even manage to talk about John #Sorry John #I think there is the more traditional caregiver side of parenthood #the part that makes sure the kids are fed and dressed and ready for school #but the magic of comics is that none of the bat characters really need that and damian in particular is not receptive to it #They kind of regress Damian to it a bit after the supersons era #but he is extremely assured while Dick is batman #he doesn't need a parent in the caregiver way he need a parent in the believes in you and gives you somewhere to call home way #it just turns out that its really hard to have someone love you and watch out for you and get super invested in your development #and not think of them in some kind of fond paternal way #also i may need to make a real post about dick and children because i dont know if i was really coherent here lol #also if there are any issues that show something i missed lmk #i have definitely not read everything

[baby-xemnas]

PLEASE TALK ABOUT THE LUZO SABAODY/2 YEAR TIMSEKIP STUFF IM BEGGING YOU

oh its so much....its So cute that u know that panel where they step away to talk like "hey where did the bear guy send you to? 😄" its so casual for what a heavy event it was, and how hard what came after had been.....but i kinda love it you know it's not unrealistic to be like haha its fine NOW so we can laugh and have fun and relax and smile again....just like lawbepo hug on zou - bepo is SO happy to see law that he instantly forgets and forgives all the fear and pain law made him feel, it doesnt matter its over!!!

its the same with luzo at sabaody reunion they are all grins and "i cant wait to rediscover you, I'll enjoy learning how youve changed bit by bit, ill savour it like a good meal" long looks. Because its Safe they are together again and they both, they ALL worked to become stronger so they can stay together, so luzo have that sexy confidence about it and instead of regretting the wasted time they think "nothing can separate us now"

and its CRAZY cuz they've been through so much. from the absolute horror of the initial incident, to the pain of finding out what happened to luffy at marineford and zoro going insane because he isnt there for luffy. luffy going through that and not wanting to live afterwards but being brought back Because he has zoro and the others - no doubt in those tears of love and gratitude there was a mix up of guilt for considering offing himself because it would mean hurting THEM. he is very sorry, it passed.

so reunion is So full of joy and comfort Despite that horrible baggage makes it all the more beautiful for them to feel So Light as they fall into each other like: there you are, my love, my home, isnt it amazing how we sync up so effortlessly again - its pure happiness

not only both of them worked and changed and became so much stronger to be able to stay together, not only did they endure so much pain for each other's sake (others' too but u know. its fucking luzo) they also both discovered a facet of their love that only distance could give so theyve matured with it too

its Nuts

zoros devotion got formed under pressure of kuma fight and his training like a diamond. as ive said i love post ts zoro being a shameless trophy wife/bodyguard who is So openly proud to be a dog its DISTURBING (positive. appreciative)

if luffy was possessive before he somehow becomes Worse much to zoros happiness. But luffys determination to be great to reach his goal is inseparable from his greed and selfishness, and that includes zoro, its crazy really because greed usually implies large quantities but with this its intense greed focused on one person (because zoro is luffys only lover and he wants no other. zoro is the best) which makes it Suffocating. in a way even the fact that "thought of zoro saved me from giving up" kind of = zoro is mine completely, its a batshit logic but thats not unusual for luffy -

luffy doesn't want to become king alone - he wants to do it with zoro and the others, his goal is his life, he is nothing without them and it just so happens that zoro is most important there, not making others disposable just cuz they arent sucking his dick but zoro is zoro, zoro was always different, zoro is the most HIS out of this group of people who will die for him

and they all came back...and zoro came back.. it's like by doing that they signed a second new and expanded unspoken contract between them that yes you are our captain Yes we will see you through the end etc

and luffy is so giddy that zoro is there ..not that luffy doubted him but he really feels like celebrating

😊😊😊

(sorry this ended up being a scattered train of thought and i didnt even talk about them fucking but i did cry typing it up if that helps cuz i love them...)

#one piece #luzo #anonymous

[hlizr50]

It's been a long time since I posted something here...

So how about a Fourth Wing oneshot????

**SPOILERS FOR FOURTH WING!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!**

Read on AO3

Violet Sorrengail.

But it couldn’t be.

She was supposed to be a scribe, safe and sweet and sequestered in the archives. A girl — young woman — like her would be broken by the Riders Quadrant. Hell, seeing how small she was, the Parapet alone could be lethal.

Did Brennan know?

Xaden looked the youngest Sorrengail over, appraising her from head to toe as he struggled to maintain that mask of calm. She was so petite. Thin. Her body was clearly lacking the years of training that the other cadet hopefuls had completed: even the slightest among them was lean with muscle. Violet Sorrengail’s body was that of a scribe, and the wing leader could only wonder what had changed.

Had she decided to honor her late brother’s memory?

Did she feel a pressure to follow in the footsteps of her sister of her mother?

Or did she just have a death wish?

Regardless, she was fucking exquisite. There was silver winding through the braided coronet that crowned her head, drained of color from the illness she’d suffered as a child. Xaden’s fingers twitched with the desire to feel the silver strands between them.

Fuck, life just got a lot more complicated.

“Sorrengail?” His voice rumbled with his best intimidating growl.

When she stepped forward her crown didn’t even reach his collarbone. She was tiny , but she still lifted her chin and fixed him with a stubborn glare.

Adorable.

Little Sorrengail nodded once, but didn’t speak. They were locked in a moment of grim recognition, and Xaden saw the hate that darkened her pretty hazel eyes. He could imagine why.

“You’re General Sorrengail’s youngest.” It was less a statement and more of an accusation. It would be expected that he would loathe any connection to the general with the same intensity that burned in Violet’s gaze. And though this was a massively unexpected circumstance, he had too many secrets that had to be kept.

“You’re Fen Riorson’s son.” The girl lifted her chin a little higher — a show of bravado, though she held her body so rigidly he thought she might snap in half.

What the fuck was she doing here?

Xaden took a deep breath. “Your mother captured my father and oversaw his execution.” And his mother’s. And the parents of all the other marked ones.

And it would have been all of the children, including himself, had he not thrown down his desperate deal. He would carry the marks of that burden until he took his dying breath, but it would be worth it to give them all a fighting chance.

“Your father killed my older brother.” Oh, if she only knew. “Seems like we’re even.”

“Hardly.”

Not even fucking close.

Xaden made a show of trailing his onyx eyes down her torso, judging her with a barely-contained sneer. But his scrutiny yielded some interesting results. A scaled leather corset hugged her ribs, highlighting the curve of her hips.

“Your sister is a rider. Guess that explains the leathers,” he quipped. 

“Guess so.” She stubbornly held his glare, so determined to stand up to him and establish her strength. The marked man couldn’t help but appreciate it. That hubris may well save her life in the quadrant. Or mark her doom.

The thought made his whole body go rigid as he clenched his fists.

“You all right?” A new voice drew his attention. It landed on a young woman with smooth, brown skin and rows of short braids atop her head. The newcomer looked between him and Violet, though her concern appeared focused on Sorrengail’s obvious discomfort.

“You’re friends?” He asked, hackles rising. Trust was dangerous in the Riders Quadrant, and Violet Sorrengail was out there making fucking friends.

“We met on the stairs.” The girl’s dark eyes hardened as she straightened and squared her shoulders.

Picking a side.

A few stone steps and they were ready to trade blows for each other. How cute.

Looking her over, as well, his gaze landed on her feet. Two mismatched boots. When his eyes slid over, he found Violet’s shoes in a similar state. One pair of boots was standard issue for riders — obviously from Mira Sorrengail. Xaden cocked a brow and looked back up at the tiny woman with the silver-streaked hair, lips twitching.

“Interesting.”

Taking obvious offense to his expression, Violet lifted her chin another inch. Any higher and she might dislocate something. “Are you going to kill me?”

What an odd question.

Rain roared in a deluge as their gazes clashed, speckled hazel and gold-flecked midnight. The water soaked her through almost instantly, leaving strands of chocolate and silver sticking to her brow in delicate curls as droplets fell from the tip of her pointed nose.

He wanted to catch them with the tip of his tongue.

A scream shattered the air, drawing the women’s focus to the parapet. From the corner of his vision he saw what had ripped horrified gasps from their lips: the blonde boy had fallen. Violet’s friend was yelling as her hands flew to her mouth, but Xaden’s attention was intent upon the flush of Sorrengail’s paling cheeks and the twist of those dainty fingers.

She was so lovely, even in that moment. The flecks of color shimmered in those wide eyes, her devastation only highlighting her beauty in the midst of hell. Someone so bright and clever and hopeful didn’t belong in the Riders Quadrant. It would destroy the light that warmed him, even then.

It was wrong. So incredibly wrong.

But Xaden channeled the wrongness into something he could use. He let it fan the flame of ire within him as Violet Sorrengail turned back to face him. All she would see would be a scowl, cold and calculated, with a glimmer of devious knowing.

“Why would I waste my energy killing you when the Parapet will do it for me?” He forced his lips to curl into a wicked, cruel smile. “Your turn.”

He could only pray to see her on the other side.

~~~

“Riorson? What are you—“

“We have a big fucking problem.” Xaden shouldered past Brennan Sorrengail into the dim amber light of the tiny room. His quarters were small, even by the standards of Basgiath.

But what did a dead man need with a large bedroom?

“We must, if you’ve flown here mere hours after the crossing.” Brennan’s grin was mischievous as he made his way to his desk chair. The marked man paced the length of the floor, likely wearing a valley into the smooth stone.

The eldest Sorrengail was the opposite of Xaden Riorson in so many ways. Where Xaden was serious and intense, Brennan was carefree, always wearing an easy smirk that was reflected in the playful glint in his hazel eyes. Somehow, in spite of everything — his mother’s deception, his father’s death, the need to live in secrecy away from everything he’d ever known, including the two sisters he adored — the demons never seemed to creep into his gaze. Brennan was happy to be where he was: skilled in combat and poised to make a difference in the world.

But… this news might crush him.

Rubbing his hands over his eyes, he took a breath that burned his lungs with dread.

“Violet crossed the Parapet today.”

Xaden’s expression must have been grave, because Brennan’s face fell and his eyes widened.

“W-what?”

“I stood face-to-face with your sister before she stepped out onto the Parapet. She was wearing a rider’s leathers — I’m assuming from your other sister.” Xaden ran ringers through his tousled hair in the silence that swallowed the two young men. Everything felt tilted and wrong, as if the world was shifting beneath them and they had no power to stop it.

The oppressive quiet stretched between them for what felt like hours.

“It can’t be. That doesn’t make any sense.” And there it was, the darkness that Xaden rarely saw in his comrade. The shadows darkened his eyes as his brows furrowed, trying to understand. “She’s been studying to be a scribe since she was a child. She would never have dreamed of riding dragons. She’s not… built for that.”

“I know. I don’t understand it, either. Based on everything you’ve told me, there was no reason for her to be there,” Xaden answered, crossing his arms over his broad chest. His focus remained upon his friend, whose expression morphed from confusion to concern… to a cold fury the marked man had never seen on the handsome face.

“It has to be my mother’s doing. There’s no other explanation.” Brennan looked up at him, eyes glinting like shards of ice. “Violet is smarter than Mira and me put together. If she became a scribe, she would find out everything that our father suspected and then some.”

The implication was staggering. Infuriating. Xaden scratched at the stubble dotting his chin. “By forcing Violet into the Riders Quadrant, with almost zero preparation, she’s condemning her to almost certain death.” How could a mother do that to her child? How could anyone want to extinguish the fire of that clever, beautiful woman? It made his gut churn as his teeth clenched.

The next moment, Brennan was upon him, his hands gripping his shoulders like a vice. “Xaden,” he murmured, wide-eyed gaze wild with desperation. “You have to protect her, Xaden. Please. Promise me you’ll take care of her. Promise me she won’t die there.”

The crack in his friend’s voice might as well have broken him, as well. This was all so wrong. So terribly complicated. Of course, Xaden had been contemplating how to keep Violet safe the moment he met her at the Parapet. But how was he supposed to protect her if she hated him? If he was supposed to hate her? Nobody could know that he’d been enamored with her, simply from the stories her brother would weave about her.

Nobody could know that the real thing was even sweeter and brighter and more exquisite than he could have ever imagined.

“Promise me, Xaden. Promise me I’ll see my sister again.”

The marked man lifted his hands and placed them on Brennan’s shoulders, comforting him with his strong hold as he nodded once.

“I swear it, Brennan,” he rasped. “On my life.”

#I don't know who to tag for Fourth Wing fics #So let me know if you want that #Fourth Wing #Fourth Wing spoilers #xaden riorson #violet sorrengail #fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing fic #xaden and violet #brennan sorrengail #the parapet #xaden pov #xaden x violet #violet x xaden #He falls first #smitten ASAP #smitten before they even meet #fanfiction #fanfic #my fanfic writing #my writing