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deaths-wife · 2 years

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**Fruits basket (2019) ending spoilers!!**

I iwas. i was nOT prepared for the ending of fruits basket. The speech Tohru's mom gives in the death flashback?? about living and growing old?? the fact Kyo watched her die??? oh my god Akitos arc?? she was so lonely that whole time?? every single character in that goddamn show has. so much. trauma. send them ALL to therapy PLEASE. I kin Isuzu which is. honestly worrying. and specifically in that scene where she finally accepts Tohru's help and just??? sobs on her????? wow. WOW. AND MOMIJI!!! I honestly wasnt prepared for him to grow up so much in s3 like physically and mentally that poor lil bunny :(( there was a serious lack of Uo-chan and Hanajima in s3 tho ngl bc i absolutely adore those two bitches (Uotani reminds me a lot of Beidou from GI i think bc of the hair, voice, and bad bih attitude so my sapphic ass dEFINITELY has a type oops)

anyway im so glad that everyone got their happy endings but. ngl that show has forever changed me and i will forever love it and ill miss that ill never get to watch it for the first time again. everyone in it grew so much, helped eachother, forgave people, it even addresses when Isuzu doesnt want to forgive Akito when most of the other Sohmas do (understandably, Akito damaged her SO much)

anyway have some of my favourite fruits basket quotes:

"Sure, the idea of forgetting does make me sad- but if that's what it takes, I'll grin and bear it... I do have one thing to ask you- if I forget you, please befriend me again?" - Tohru Honda, S1E2

"People like me cling to kind people. We seek them out. We leech them dry. That’s why I won’t involve anyone else in this. It’s better if I go it alone. I’ll keep running alone. Nobody has to understand me. It’s easier if they hate me. It’s better if I’m all alone. That’s what I decided, and I intend to stick with it. I decided I wouldn’t cry." - Isuzu (Rin) Sohma, ?

"I hate this. This is why I didn't want to get near her. She's that type of person. The type of person who makes me feel this. I wanted to burst into tears. I wanted to run to her, let myself lie in her lap- and surrender my heart to her. I wanted to whine and complain about my weakness. I couldn't do that. People like me lean on, yearn for- and take advantage of kind people.. I'm sorry! I'm going to lean on you- I'm so powerless- I'm so weak. I don't know what to do anymore, I don't know!" - Isuzu (Rin) Sohma, S2E19

"It's scary to be by yourself. It's scary to be- on your own." - (to Isuzu) Tohru Honda, S2E19

"Come on carrots, I don't get what you are so embarrassed about. It's not like I'm asking you to pick up panties for her or something. Jeez." - best girl Uotani :3, ?

"When somebody is important to you, there are times where it can be hard, times when where they may feel lonely… but in the end, it's worth it. Happier, sad, together or apart, my weakness will always be.. Tohru." - best girl Hanajima <3, S1E21

"Just as no matter how hard you try to keep it away, despair will attack you again and again. In the same manner, hope will return to you. Again and again." - Kazuma (Senpai/Master) Sohma, ?

"Even if the world doesn’t need us, we live for the people who do." - Kyoko Honda, ?

"I never thought I’d be praised. I never thought that day would come. I’m imperfect, warped, defective…and yet here is someone who’s praising me." - Machi Kuragi, ?

"If I keep trying, then someday… I’ll be strong enough that those memories can’t defeat me. I want to believe that there’s no such thing as a memory that’s okay to forget." - Momiji Sohma, ?

"I knew it. I knew it all along. Just as there’s rejection in this world, there are people who will reach out to you." - Kyo Sohma, ?

"When did I start thinking stupid, sappy things like that? And why? It's almost like… I'm…" - Kyo Sohma, S2E9

"She must have known that if she let go… I would never return. If I slipped through her hands, I'd be gone. And no one would be able to bring me back. She didn't erase all my pain or offer to solve all of my problems. She didn't fix everything that was broken. But that's not what I needed anyway. Not really. What mattered most was that… she stayed." - Kyo Sohma, S2E9

"I wish I could’ve lived my life without making any wrong turns. But that’s impossible. A path like that doesn’t exist. We fail. We trip. We get lost. We make mistakes. And little by little, one step at a time, we push forward. It’s all we can do. On our own two feet." - Yuki Sohma, ?

"I think it’s true what they say…crying, unexpectedly, does make you feel better. Without shame, like a child. When you get older, you forget about that. It’s not easy to have a good cry anymore." - Hatori Sohma, ?

"You've been sad- miserable- and so very lonely." - (to Akito) Tohru Honda, S3E9

"No- I'm scared! I don't want this! I was promised- so much more! This world- where no one needs me, where everyone's a stranger- I don't want it... No! It's too late! Don't you understand that? This world is unrecognisable. There are no promises, or bonds- no hope of eternity. I'm scared. I can't live surrounded by strangers- alone. Without any guarantee that- I'll be loved? I can't." - Akito Sohma, S3E9

"The second I cry, you'll decide you've had enough. If I complain, you'll get mad. You'll stop liking me- and throw me out of your life!" - (to Tohru) Akito Sohma, S3E9

"Akito- please, don't cry. It's alright. Everything's alright, the scary times are over. You made it." - Tohru Honda, S3E9

"I'm begging you please, do what I cant. Protect my baby girl... Sorry, honey. I guess this is goodbye. I have to go- but I pray that you'll be happy. I pray that your years will be full of people who love you. Live the kind of life you can be proud of in the end. Even if you make mistakes, or take the long way around. Live so that- when it's your time to go- people will say; "You fought well." Have lots of happy times, and sad times, and everything in-between. That's how I want you to grow old." - Kyoko Honda, S3E12

ok thats it, promise.

ik like no one will read this post so its mostly for myself but if anyone out there in the void also enjoys fruits basket- pls take this offering xoxo

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theduuude43 · 2 years

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She can’t sit still in this manic state of rambling. It’s almost hypnotic. The swaying of her shoulders and lulling tone of voice. This is the 6th patient I’ve seen today. I thought working with the mentally ill would be more gratifying. I really want to help people. Sadly, most don’t want help. I drift off into my own thoughts while casually nodding and encouraging Manic Momma to tell me more. I think about the life I only live in my head. A place where I’m free to just be me. No judgment. No wagging fingers telling me I’m a sinner. A place where I am The Dude. Don’t get me wrong, most people would look at me like I should be the one in the chair; incoherent psycho-babble spewing from a motor mouth. But if it’s in my head and never spoken, I can continue with the façade of loving husband and doting father. A pillar in my community! Church leader! It’s amazing the lengths I go to make sure the real me is locked up tight. Ungodly amounts of psychotropics poured into my soul every day help to keep the Jekyll and Hyde manageable. Oops, she stopped talking. I tell her she is so brave for seeking help and letting it out. The obligatory banter of scheduling her next appointment and I walk her to the lobby and then head back to my office. I shut the door and pull out my phone so I can watch the pornography that consumes 70% of my free time. I watch straight porn and gay porn but my favorite is trans porn. Compilations of psychedelic flashes of beautiful women with giant cocks! My pants get a little tighter and the lace panties I’m wearing rub just right to make the whole ordeal dangerous. I could have to get up at any moment if my boss calls me. I know I would enjoy my life better if I could just be who I am, but I’m a coward that has become complacent with the easy life of conformity. Fear of becoming destitute crippling my sense of self. This fear is slowly slipping away though. I’m a middle aged man with the knowledge that some time I will die and that time is speedily approaching. I want to be who I am! I pop another Wellbutrin and calm my loins to go call my 7th patient today. On the bright side I’m meeting with Gerardo and he has severe schizophrenia. It’s always fascinating how his world and mine are so similar but he is seeking my help. If only he knew that he could find his answers on the internet. I would be out of a job so I keep that to myself. Ah, yes, he has been seeing demons again. My brain flashes to my fantasy of being a Prince of Darkness with an aura of evil flowing through everything around me. I guess I should start paying attention to this patient so we can adjust his medication to make his symptoms more manageable. His medication will never be as high doses as mine…

To be continued….. #trans #porn #shorts #evil #mentalillness

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dccomicsimagines · 3 years

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A Loooooong Time - Wally West x Reader

Requested by Anon - Can you write an imagine where the reader hasn't been touched or had any intimate time with Wally for a loooooong time and she wants to know why and Wally confesses that he's afraid to hurt her during sex cause he can get a little too fast? Thank you!

***

Wally pressed you back against the wall. His lips sealed to yours. You ran your hands up and down his back before slipping your fingers under his shirt to touch his bare skin. He moaned, vibrating slightly under your touch.

Three, two, one and Wally was suddenly out of your grasp. “Sorry.” He was on the other side of the room with his back to you.

You sighed in disappointment and frustration. “It’s okay.” You bit your lip, watching his hands vibrate as he looked out the window of your apartment. Gathering your courage, you cleared your throat. “Is something wrong, Walls?”

“What? Something wrong? No.” Wally laughed too hard. A fake laugh. You wrinkled your nose.

“Come on, Walls. We can’t go more than a minute of kissing before you run away.” You wrung your hands. “Is it because what happened last time we...got farther?”

Wally turned to look at you, eyes wide, face flushed. “No. I couldn’t be upset that I hurt you. No way.” A hint of sarcasm slipped into his voice.

You rolled your eyes. “Wally, you didn’t mean to hurt me. You just moved a little too fast for me, but we can try again. You don’t have to be afraid.”

“(Y/N), beautiful. I can’t risk it again.” He looked back out the window, leaning against the frame. “Hurting you was the worst thing I have ever done.”

“Now you’re being overdramatic.” You went to his side and took his hand. “The worst thing you’ve done is mock my cooking skills.”

Wally snorted. His hand limp in your grasp. “Making me laugh isn’t going to work.”

“Then what will work, Wally West?” you said with a smirk. “I miss you.” You looked at him with wide, wanting eyes. He choked on his breath.

“No!” He jerked away from you. “I’m sorry, (Y/N), but no.” He grabbed his coat from the bed. “I’m heading home. I’ll call you.” A gust of wind hit you as he disappeared from your apartment.

Your shoulders slumped, sinking down to sit on the floor and hugging your knees to your chest. “Wally, why?” Tears threatened to fall from your cheeks, but you kept them back. You wouldn’t pity yourself, not when Wally clearly needed to get over his fear of hurting you.

***

Wally’s heart was in his throat as he zoomed to the med bay on the watchtower. “Where is (Y/N)?” he demanded, skidding to a stop when he came face to face with Martian Manhunter.

J’onn blinked before gesturing for Wally to lower his voice. “They are resting for now. We want them to stay the night.” He stepped aside. Wally rushed through the doorway, going straight to your bedside.

You looked ill. Monitors beeped quietly around you. Wally frowned at the IV in your arm and the blood bag attached to it. He gently took your hand. A throat cleared from the doorway. Wally glanced over to find Dick standing there. “What happened?”

“(Y/N) took three bullets.” Dick bit his lip, moving to Wally’s side somewhat nervously. “They were protecting some kids.”

Wally’s hand tightened around yours. You shifted slightly in your sleep before relaxing again. “I told you to protect them,” Wally said harshly. “You promised me you wouldn’t let them get hurt.”

Dick sighed. “Walls, I can’t be everywhere at once. (Y/N) knew the risks and they will recover.” He bumped Wally’s arm. “Besides, you could have protected them yourself if you would have came with us.”

“Don’t start that again. I’m angry enough that you took (Y/N) with you.” Wally sat on the edge of your bed, studying your face. He brought your hand to his lips, kissing your palm.

“Try to get some sleep, Walls. It won’t help (Y/N) if you stay up all night,” Dick said, slipping out of the room once he saw he no longer had Wally’s attention.

Wally stared at you for a long time, counting each breath you took. He almost had a heart attack when he got the call you were injured. Why were you always getting hurt? At least this time it wasn’t by him. He swallowed hard.

Time passed, his eyes struggled to stay open. After a mental debate with himself, he carefully laid down beside you. You shifted closer to him, sighing in your sleep. Wally froze, panicked before forcing himself to relax. Resting his arm on your hip, he fell asleep with the comfort you were safe.

***

You felt a heartbeat against your cheek. Wally’s cologne tickled your nose. You took a deep breath, ignoring the pain that floated through your body. Opening your eyes only a little bit, you smiled when you saw the warmth you felt by your side was in fact Wally West himself.

Joy filled you along with contentment. This was the first time in a long time that Wally would dare cuddle with you. “I should get hurt more often,” you whispered to yourself before closing your eyes again and enjoying yourself.

***

“Wally, I can walk, you know.” You wrapped your arms around his neck as he carried you to your apartment.

“I know, but I don’t want you to get overtired.” Wally blushed, giving you a tight smile. You nuzzled his neck, giggling when you felt his pulse throb against your nose. “(Y/N).”

“Wally.” You smirked at him. He grumbled, bumping your apartment door open with his hip. “Thank you.” He set you on your couch.

“You’re welcome.” He sat beside you, leaving a wide space between you. “Are you in pain? Do you need your pain meds?”

“No, I’m good.” You smiled at him and took his hand. “Just sit with me.”

Wally shifted uncomfortably, but stayed where he was. Silence fell between you. It was peaceful. You closed your eyes, relaxing. Wally’s hand stayed in yours. Suddenly, Wally’s stomach growled, breaking the silence.

You laughed. “Hungry?” you asked, opening one eye to look at him.

“Always,” he chuckled. “Do you want Chinese? I can have it in a flash.”

“Sure.” You bit your lip. Your heart soared. He was almost like the Wally you first fell in love with. “You know what I want.”

He got to his feet and started to lean down to kiss you. You leaned up to meet him when he suddenly hesitated, eyes wide. A frown pulled at your lips, pleading with your eyes for him not to regress into his self-doubt. Wally’s eyes shined and he slowly leaned down to press his lips against yours. You didn’t move, too afraid you would scare him off like a rabbit in the woods.

“I’ll be back soon.” He pulled away too quickly and was gone with a gust of wind. You sighed contently. It was progress.

***

“Ouch, ouch, ouch,” you mumbled as you bent over to turn on the facet of your bathtub. The water ran. You ran your fingers under the stream, testing the temperature. Once it was warm enough, you stood back up. “Ouch, ouch, ouch.” You moved to get out the bottle of bubble bath, gasping when it hurt your wound. The bottle fell to the floor.

Wind rustled your hair as the bottle was suddenly in Wally’s hand. “What are you doing? You’re supposed to be resting.”

“Yeah, but I feel gross.” You blushed, taking the bottle out of Wally’s hand and dumped some into the tub.

“Babe, how are you going to get into the tub? Or get undressed?” He blushed redder than his hair.

“I can manage.” You rolled your eyes. Bending down again, you gasped in pain. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” Wally helped you up. “Let me help you.”

You ducked your head to hide a smile. Wally’s hands shook as they moved to your shirt. “Thank you.”

Wally hummed. You shivered as the cloth of your shirt slid against your skin. He pulled it over your head gently. You hissed slightly. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.” A smile pulled at your lips when you saw Wally’s eyes roamed your bare chest. “Like what you see?”

Wally’s face turned as red as his hair. “Always.” He smirked. Slowly, he dropped to one knee to pull off your pants. “I missed this.”

“Me too.” You ran your fingers through his hair. “Maybe you could join me in the bath like we used to?” He looked up to meet your eye as he tugged down your underwear. “We won’t do anything, because I’m not able to move the way I would like to, but I just want to be held by you, Walls.” A tear slipped down your cheek. “I thought I was going to die.”

Wally swallowed hard. “When I got the call, I almost vibrated my phone to pieces.” He hesitated for a moment. His face pressed against your stomach. “You scared me.”

You closed your eyes, enjoying the vibration of his mouth against your stomach. “I know.” You glanced at the bathtub. It was dangerously close to overflowing. “I think we should get into the bath, huh?”

Wally smiled, getting to his feet to pick you up in his arms like you were the most fragile thing in the world. “I think we should.” He stepped into the tub and sat down with you in his lap.

You gasped. “Wally, you still have your clothes on.” You laughed hard enough to hurt your healing wounds.

“Oops.” He looked down at himself in genuine surprise. “I got distracted, but this is fine. You’re comfortable, right?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” You snuggled into him. “I love you.”

Wally kissed your forehead. “I love you too.”

***

Weeks passed and you healed. Wally stayed with you the entire time. He didn’t shy away from touching you, even going so far as to sleep next to you. It made you feel like you were on the top of the world.

Wally’s confidence grew. You saw it in his step and in the way he kissed you. The insecurity that had haunted him for so long was slowly disappearing.

“Keep your eyes closed, babe.” Wally’s hands covered your eyes for a second before disappearing. You laughed, delighted.

Things moved around. You heard a lighter flicking on and off. “Wally, was that a lighter?”

“Maybe.” He chuckled, coming back to your side and leading you toward your bedroom. Your heart skipped a beat. “Okay, open your eyes.”

You timidly opened your eyes to find your bedroom lit by candles and the bed covered in rose petals. “Oh Wally.” A huge grin grew onto your lips as you looked at him. He blushed, standing there shirtless. His hands vibrated, revealing how nervous he was.

“I want to try again if you’ll have me.” He smiled sheepishly, finally meeting your eye. You smirked at him.

“Always.” In a move so quick that you almost caught him off guard, you kissed him hard and knocked him back onto the bed. He laughed and kissed you back. You finally had your Wally back, and you will argue he was better than before.

#wally west #wally west x reader #wally west imagine #kid flash #kid flash x reader #kid flash imagine #dc comics imagines #dc reader insert #young justice imagines #yj imagine

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bamfdaddio · 3 years

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X-Men Abridged: 1980 - The Dark Phoenix Saga

The X-Men, those enduring mutants that have sworn to protect a world that hates and fears them, are a cultural juggernaut with a long, tangled history. Want to unravel this tapestry? Then read the Abridged X-Men!

(X-Men 132 - 140, X-Men Annual 4) - by Chris Claremont and John Byrne, John Romita Jr. and Bob McLeod

Go on. Name a more iconic X-Men panel. I’ll wait. (X-Men 134)

If you were born in 1980, you were born under the sign of the Phoenix. This means you will have great hair, but you’ll also be absolutely corrupted by power. Don’t worry, as long as you don’t consume any stars and/or galaxies, you should be fine.

This year hits the ground running, introducing Emma Frost, Kitty Pryde and Dazzler in one fell swoop. The White Queen is the first of the Hellfire Club to make her move, but Phoenix is quickly able to dispatch of her, as you can read here.

Cyclops, worried that the rest of the Inner Circle will soon come in for the kill, decides to abscond to Angel’s Aerie in New Mexico to throw their pursuers off their scent. Jean decides to make the most of it and has sex with Scott on top of mesa. (Kinky!) She also shuts off his uncontrollable destructo-beams, nbd. This somehow inspires Scott to go from reactive to proactive and lead an ill-advised charge straight into the Hellfire Club on the night of their big ball… soirée... thing. Call it a Hellfire Gala-avant-la-lettre.

Fine, he might have been inspired by the raw power of the Phoenix. She’s the biggest gun on their side and, if there's one thing you can be sure of, it´s that reliable powerhouse Jean won´t switch sides in the middle of battle.

Oh wait, that's exactly what she does.

As soon as they enter the Hellfire Club, Jason Wyngarde, who reveals he’s actually Mastermind, takes control of Jean, finally turning her into the Black Queen. With the power of the Phoenix and the patriarchy on their side, the Inner Circle makes short work of the X-Men. They consists of:

Jason Wyngarde, aka Mastermind.

Sebastian Shaw. Often shirtless. The Jeff Bezos of mutantkind. Has the ability to absorb kinetic energy, which means punching him only makes him stronger. (Colossus and Storm figure this out the hard way.)

Harry Leland. Ability of mass manipulation, which has got to be one of the dopest powers ever. Uses it to dunk Wolverine three floors down into the sewer.

Donald Pierce. 25% robot, 100% asshole, 100% useless in taking out X-Men, 225% the worst.

Wolverine is the only one who escapes, resulting in another iconic image:

Apparently, this picture is solely responsible for the fact that Wolverine became the face of the X-Men in the zeroes. It also lit my cigar from the other side of the room. (X-Men 132)

Needless to say, stabbing ensues.

Meanwhile, Shaw pontificates what he wants with the X-Men. He means to use them as guinea pigs to isolate the X-Gene, which he’ll then reverse engineer to give everyone (with money) super powers and all of a sudden, I want Shaw to do a team-up with John Sublime. Jean is not all there, however: she’s trapped in the astral plane, cultivating a cruel streak a mile high.

And suddenly, Jean-turning-evil is not all that funny anymore. (X-Men 133)

Cyclops traverses the mental link he shares with Jean to confront ‘Sir Jason’ and challenge him to a duel. Guy can’t catch a break: in Jean’s mindscape, he is stabbed and he promptly collapses in the real world. Ruh-roh!

Wolverine, meanwhile, has done a passable impression of the Bride against the Crazy 88 in Kill Bill, and he interrupts the Hellfire Club and their gloating. That’s when Jean resurfaces as well, snapping out of her voluptuous Victorian fantasy and, playing a dubious tango with everyone’s trust issues, switching sides once again. The Phoenix is like the golden snitch: as long as your team holds it, it’s enough to win.

Colossus snaps Pierce’s robo-arm, Shaw gets punted through a floor and Leland uses his powers to increase Wolverine’s mass - just when Logan is jumping on top of him. Oops! Should have made him lighter than a feather, Leland.

Jean, meanwhile, is doing her own passable impression of the Bride and goes on what the advertisements would refer to as a ‘Roaring Rampage of Revenge’. (Oh, she roars, and she rampages, and she gets bloody satisfaction.)

This is what happens when you fuck around and find out, Jason. (X-Men 134)

Phoenix makes Mastermind’s mind touch the infinite. His tiny human mind can’t cope. And, just like me when I’m at Pride and surrounded by a bevvy of shirtless gym bunnies, he becomes a dribbling mess. A shell with nothing inside. For those of you paying attention: this is where your Lit teacher would shout “dramatic irony” and underscore Emma Frost vs. Storm on the chalkboard.

This is also the moment where she officially Breaks Bad.

We see powerless people become heroes all the time. The reverse, where the angel falls? That happens far more rarely. I think that is the reason this story was so shockingly effective in the eighties. The reason why it’s still so effective? I think because, like the One Ring, you can read the rise and fall of the Phoenix in a myriad of ways. Is this a victim, reclaiming power? Is this a woman, trying to rise in a man’s world? Is this someone who was always buttoned up, daring to embrace her own power, her sexuality, her dangerous side -- only to get promptly beat down? The ambiguity of the narrative gives it strength, which is why I think it keeps resonating even now. This counts especially in the X-Universe, inherently designed to appeal to the underdog.

Anyway, the X-Men try to flee, but it’s too late. Jean can’t hold it in any more. She explodes in Phoenixesness and vaporizes the X-Men’s aircraft over Central Park. Relishing in her power, Jean easily defeats her friends, before flying off into the galaxy.

In the Avengers mansion, Beast gets the report that the X-Men are trashing the Hellfire Club. Ignoring his duties as an Avenger, Beast chooses his old family and hops off to investigate on his own.

The report, by the way, comes from Shaw, who knows when to turn tail and cut his losses. Among the confused, scared refugees of their party, he begins working a politician on the importance of a Sentinel program. That politician? Senator Kelly. Remember that name.

Jean can’t talk, she’s doing hot girl things. Nomnomnom that star system, sis. (X-Men 135)

Originally, Jean wasn’t meant to die. This one panel, the one showing the inhabited planet, is the reason why she eventually does: Jim Shooter, editor-in-chief, felt Jean shouldn’t be able to get away with a literal genocide. Claremont and Byrne, who had planned to strip Jean of her powers at the end of this, had to change the end of their story within days before it went to print. Additionally, this stoked the adversarial fire between the two: Claremont claims that he hadn’t originally intended there to be an inhabited planet, but felt his hands were tied when Byrne drew one. I wonder how true this is, considering how embedded it is in the narrative, but that’s neither here nor there.

The Phoenix’s genocide alerts the Shi’Ar - and therefore Lilandra - to her presence. Lily says that Galactus is nothing compared to the Phoenix: he merely eats planets, she will consume all that exists.

A hungry Jean, meanwhile returns to Earth, not sure what she’s looking for. She pays a visit to the home of her parents, but when they warily come to greet her, she can’t help but read all the innermost thoughts of her family. Nothing is secret, nothing is sacred. (Imagine knowing all those little thoughts your parents had about you, all those little terrible human things they did in their life. Imagine knowing all their sexual fantasies. Brrr.) It sours the Phoenix against them and she is about to start familicide to her list of sins, when the X-Men attack!

Nightcrawler slaps a psionic scrambler designed by Beast on her, but she’s still too strong. Wolverine tries to end her, but he isn’t ruthless enough to do the deed. When the scrambler overloads, Scott tries reasoning with her, appealing to her love. This causes the Phoenix to waver and Charles Xavier (airdropped in by Warren), bolts Jean telepathically.

Drinking game rule for the Phoenix saga no 6: shout “ca-caw” and take a sip every time the raptor appears. (X-Men 136)

Xavier feels Jean helping him out from within the Phoenix and together, they slowly trap Phoenix in the same sort of energy-matrix as Jean did with the M’Kraan-crystal. The Phoenix finally lays dormant, the X-Men have Jean back and Scott, overwhelmed by emotion, sort of awkwardly proposes to her. Happy Ending! And then, pulling the rug out from under our feet, the X-Men (including Beast and Angel) are whisked away.

They appear in front of Lilandra. The Shi’Ar hold Jean accountable for her planet-killing ways and Lilandra orders her Imperial Guard to take her away! But Charles invokes an ancient law with the same relish of someone who invokes an obscure board game rule against the person who is about to win: he demands a trial by combat.

The rules are easy:

X-Men win: Jean lives

Shi’Ar win: Jean dies.

The trial will be on the dark side of the moon. The Shi’ar are way too strong and, one by one, the X-Men fall, until only Jean and Scott are left. In their last stand, Jean loses control and becomes the Phoenix again, wiping the floor with the Imperial Guard. Technically, they win, but she knows now.

Suicide by abandoned-machine-of-a-long-forgotten-civilization-on-the-dark-side-of-the-moon. (X-Men 137)

She dies. Phoenix dies. The X-Men lose. Scott, bereft, leaves the X-Men.

One detail I love is the holempathic crystal that Lilandra bestows on Jean’s parents.

Without becoming too maudlin, the idea of this is beautiful. A condensed image of a person you love, one you can touch when you feel memories slipping away so you can remember who they were. (X-Men 138)

And with that, season 2 of the X-Men ends. Without Cyclops and Phoenix, the X-Men have to readjust. While Beast returns to the Avengers, Angel takes up residence in the mansion again. He confesses to liking most of the new X-Men, except Wolverine. (To be fair, Wolverine is an acquired taste.) Kitty Pryde also formally starts attending the school and slowly, the Jean-and-Scott-shaped void is filled.

Patriarchal Charles is thrilled to finally have a new teenager in the house who will hang on to his every word. It’ll be like the sixties all over again! (X-Men 139)

There are so many beautiful touches in the few panels:

Wolverine calling Charles ‘Chuck’

Nightcrawler getting drinks (and a beer)

Most amazingly of all, Storm becoming the leader. (I give Chuck a lot of flak, but this decision is Right.) Not just because Storm is the best X-Man for the job, but also because she was a black woman leading one of premier Marvel superhero teams for, what? The better half of a decade? The eighties had barely started, so this was a big fucking deal.

Storm also takes up a motherly role for Kitty, who takes up her suggestion for a codename: Sprite. (This after Kitty rejects Charles’ suggestion of Ariel, which is only fortunate, considering that name would soon be associated with redhaired mermaids.)

The rest of the year is dedicated to two adventures, both of them starring Kurt. The first is depicted in the annual: on Kurt’s birthday, he receives a mysterious package with a mysterious figurine that mysteriously explodes in his face. Professor X calls guest star Dr. Strange for aid, who deduces that his soul has been stolen. What follows is a quest to regain Kurt’s soul in an adventure that feels a little too I just read Dante’s Inferno, check how smart I am.

Hell is a little too pedestrian and boring, though we do get a King Minos hitting on Kurt and Ororo. A man of wealth and taste indeed. Anyway, at the end of this side quest, it turns out all of this was a convoluted revenge scheme concocted by one Margali of the Winding Road. She turns out to be Kurt’s (adoptive) mother, who’s getting revenge for Kurt killing her son.

Kurt, racked with guilt, reveals he had no choice. Stefan had always feared the darkness in his soul and he’d made Kurt pledge to stop him if he should ever succumb to it. After Stefan killed a child or two, Kurt had no choice but to end him. Stefan perished and Kurt was blamed for all of the murders, having to flee an angry mob.

Margali forgives him, with some help from Jimaine, Kurt’s foster sister. In a twist that is a little too soap opera for my tastes (and I watch Riverdale), Jimaine turns out to be Kurt’s squeeze, Amanda Sefton. I’ve always disliked this twist, and not just because of the incesteous vibes: I like the idea of Kurt dating a regular lady who is into him despite his appearance and his being a mutant. Making Amanda Sefton his sorcerous half-sister dilutes that message a lot.

The tail end of 1980 involves Wolverine going to Canada so Wolverine can make amends with Alpha Flight. Kurt joins him, ostensibly to flirt with Aurora, but in fact this shows that Kurt and Wolverine are establishing a rapport. A deeper friendship.

In a pretty paint-by-numbers adventure, Wolverine, Nightcrawler and the worse half of Alpha Flight take down a Wendigo. We don’t get Northstar or Aurora, but we do get more Snowbird, who can change herself into Canadian animals, with the danger of being consumed by her animal side.

We get this delightful panel out of it:

Scared Nightcrawler almost makes me forget how full of shit Jimmy MacDonald is, considering last time Kurt saw them, they tried to kidnap the fuzzy elf. (X-Men 139)

This whole arc is meant to show the softening of Wolverine. Not only does he share his name with Kurt (well, sort of: “Logan, is that your name?” “Yup.” “You never told us.” “You never asked.”), but when they fight the Wendigo and Snowbird turns into a white wolverine to deal the final blow, he talks her out of being consumed by her vicious animal nature.

The year ends with two details worth mentioning:

The Canadian government dissolves Alpha Flight, which I can only find a prescient move that highlights their good taste. A realistic note I like is the minister referring to the mutant problem as ‘an American problem’ even though they employ the Beaubier twins. Wankers.

Fred Dukes escapes prison to join the New Brotherhood of Mutants!

We’re now entering a run of the X-Men which I haven’t read much of yet, but Freddy mentions he was helped by some lady lawyer. That’s gotta be Mystique, right?

I can barely contain my glee.

Ugliest Costume: Despite that godawful hooded thing Kitty wears, I have to give this to Dazzler. There’s no salvaging that costume: I’m sorry, but she’s wearing a disco ball around her neck. It's a boot from me.

Best new character: Emma Frost. Fight me by the bike rack near the parking lot if you disagree.

Turns evil: Jean Grey, famously so.

What to read: X-Men 129 to 137, the Dark Phoenix run.

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anonymous-tals · 3 years

Text

Oops, I projected my mental health issues onto a fictional character that is similar to me. Time to write fanfiction, I guess!

TW: Eating Disorders. If you are struggling or are in recovery from an eating disorder, here’s a big ol’ trigger warning. There are no numbers or specifics about anything but it does center around Brad Bakshi of the show Mythic Quest struggling with his eating disorder.

This is not in an attempt to glamorize eating disorders(not that I wrote anything that would but just in case someone misinterprets this). Eating disorders are not cute or quirky. They are serious illnesses that lead to death. If you are struggling with an eating disorder, you deserve recovery. Please reach out for help to a trusted adult.

National Eating Disorder Association 1-800-931-2237

One last trigger warning for eating disorders before we begin! I hope the writing isn’t trash. If you have any critiques, feel free to comment them. I hope you enjoy the story(if this is cringey, future me, you have permission to murder me right now):

Brad’s eyes opened, squinting as he tried to adjust to the harsh lights. He looked around the room, confused as to where he was. After a couple of seconds, he identified the room as a hospital room. There was a lady sitting on a chair by the door reading a book. Adjusting himself, Brad slowly sat up, his head aching as he did. The lady perked up as she noticed Brad had awakened.

“Oh! You’re awake!”, she said, calmly, putting down her book.

“Where-Where am I?”, said Brad.

“You’re in the hospital, sir.” Brad looked around the room. The walls were a cool green. Typical nature photos shuffled through on a tv that was mounted on the wall in front of his bed as it waited to be used. There was a thin door that he guessed was either a bathroom or a closet. Brown cupboards lined the walls. He moved his arm only to notice there was a tube attached to it.

“What the hell happened?”, he thought. The previous day, or what he presumed to be the previous day, had been foggy. Well, pretty much everyday lately had been a blur.

“I’m going to go tell a nurse you’re awake so we can do weights and vitals.” A pang of fear struck him at the sound of the word weight. Someone else was going to see what he weighed. His thoughts were racing.

“Just take a deep breath.”, he thought. He tried to calm himself down by looking around the room. He noticed there was a card on the counter beneath the cabinets. Curiosity got the best of him and he stood up. Stars popped into his vision and he steadied himself before making his way to the counter. The tube was just barely long enough for him to reach it. The cover read, ‘Get well soon!’. Brad walked back to the hospital bed and sat on the edge of the mattress. “I wonder who it’s from?”, he thought, opening the card. “I can’t believe you are in the hospital! You appeared so healthy. Get well, soon, motu.”

“Brad Bakshi?”, a nurse called from the doorway. He looked up, tossing the card into a trash can by the bed. The lady who had been sitting in the room with him walked in and sat down again, opening her book. “Hello, I’m Amanda Armstrong and I’ll be your nurse today. Do you know why you’re here?”, she said.

“No.”, Brad replied, shortly.

“Well, you were brought here by…”, she looked down at a clipboard she was holding. “...Ian Grimm? Does that name sound familiar?”

“Yes, he’s my boss.” Brad kept his voice calm but his heart was starting to quicken. Memories from the day previous began to surface.

“Well, he said you had fainted while walking up a flight of stairs.” Brad’s calm demeanor cracked as the memories flooded back.

“Oh...yah. I remember that.”

“Yes, well, you got a concussion. Thankfully, it isn’t too bad.”

“When will I be getting out?”, Brad said, shaking away his feelings of anxiety.

“Well, let’s take your vitals first and then we can discuss that. Come with me.” Brad followed Amanda out into the hall. They didn’t walk for long but the environment made him feel uneasy. There was something surreal about it. Or maybe it was the fact that he felt a little light headed that made everything feel a bit off. “We’ll be in here.”, said Amanda, opening the door. Brad entered the room, surveying his surroundings. It looked like a typical room for check-ups. Amanda made her way to the computer sitting on the desk and started logging in and opening a file. “Ok, let’s do your vitals. I’m going to ask you to lay down and stay still, please!” She walked over to the wall where a weird machine stood. “I’m just going to put this on your arm, if you’d roll up your sleeve for me.” Brad rolled up his sleeve and she velcroed what appeared to be something relating to blood pressure. “Ok, I’m going to need you to answer honestly. Have you had any feelings of depression or sadness?”

“Excuse me?”, said Brad, startled, sitting up.

“Please lay down, Mr.Bakshi. Begrudgingly, Brad lay down.

“Why on earth are you asking me this?”, said Brad, frustrated.

“Well…”, she hesitated. “Ok, I’m going to be direct with you here. Your boss reported that you hadn’t been eating much and you have been appearing to be quite fatigued and dizzy. Right now, we’re doing your vitals to see what we’ll need to do.”

“Are you implying that I have an eating disorder? I’ll tell you right now that I don’t.”

“Well, the lanugo is telling a different story. Now, please, let’s go through the questions.” The nurse asked the questions while doing the vitals despite Brad giving short, passive aggressive answers.

“Ok, time for weight and height.” Brad's heart quickened.

“Do we have to?”

“I’m going to have you turn around. You won’t even see it!” He stepped onto the scale as he tried to hide his growing panic.

“You fat idiot. If you restricted more, maybe you wouldn’t be so anxious right now. You wouldn’t even be here, I bet! You fat, stupid, fatty-”

“Ok, you can step off!” The nurse's voice interrupted his thoughts and he stepped off the scale. Ok, let’s do your height.

She measured his height and then went over the computer and input the information.

“Ok. So, here’s what we’ve got going on here, Mr.Bakshi. Your vitals are showing symptoms of anorexia and so is your BMI.”

“BMI is garbage.”, Brad said dismissively.

“Well, that doesn’t disregard any of the other information. I can’t force you to do anything since you’re an adult but I would highly suggest going into inpatient care.”

“For the last time, I don’t have an eating disorder! Sorry, I care about my health! I thought losing weight was a good thing!” The nurse sighed before closing out of the tabs on the computer.

“Well, you can think it over during the next couple days. You’ll need to stay here to make sure your head is okay.” Rolling his eyes, Brad scoffed.

“Fine, whatever. My decision won’t change, though!”

They headed back to the room and Brad sat down on his bed. He stared at the tv. It had just faded to a picture of a monarch butterfly on a purple flower. His gaze travelled across the room until it fell onto the card he had thrown in the trash can.

“I bet I wouldn’t even get diagnosed with anything. I’m too fat. I need to be thinner. I’m not even that bad. I need to be that bad, though.” Just then, a sharp knock on the door halted his thoughts in their tracks. Brad looked up to see David standing at the doorway with a balloon and a gift bag.

“Great, just what I needed.”, said Brad, sarcastically.

“Nice to see you too, Brad.” Brad rolled his eyes in response. “The office was really worried about you! You sure took a tumble. Anyways, here’s a balloon! And a gift! Courtesy of your friends at the office!”

“Interesting. I didn’t consider you guys as friends.”, Brad replied coldly.

“What do you want me to say, then? Huh? Courtesy of everyone you annoy and pester?” Brad looked away, not responding. He was finding it harder and harder to keep his emotions hidden underneath.

“Listen, David. I don’t care about you guys and you guys don’t care about me and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“I’m sorry we’re decent enough human beings to care about other people.”

“Pshh, you don’t care about me. You just want to feel good about yourselves so you can feel like you’re a decent human being. So you can stop pretending you care about me because you don’t, ok? No one does.” His emotions were slipping through. He could feel his eyes welling up but he wouldn’t allow the tears to fall.

“Come on, Brad. Of course people care about you! Your brother for example! He’s a great guy! He threw you that awesome birthday party, remember?” Brad sat still, not responding. “Earth to Brad, anyone in there?”, David said, giving a small laugh.

“Shut up!” Brad shouted loudly, causing David to wince. “My brother is a horrible person. He has gone out of his way to ruin my life. In fact, he is ruining my life right now.” His voice cracked as a tear broke through.

“Brad, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize-”

“Just leave, ok? Please just leave.” Brad’s heart began to beat faster. “You idiot.”, he thought. “You let him see that you’re weak. You are weak. You’re just a fat, weak, pussy.” His breathing was getting quicker and quicker. The room started to spin. It felt like everything was happening all at once. Just then, he felt a hand on each of his shoulders.

“Take a deep breath, ok?”, said David. Brad hesitated before taking a deep breath in and letting it out. “In, 2, 3, 4. Out, 2, 3, 4. In, 2-” Slowly Brad began to calm down. He opened his eyes, not even realizing that he had closed them. “Better?”, asked David, taking a step back. Brad looked towards the window, avoiding eye contact, wiping the tears from his face. He tried to think of something witty to say but he was too tired. They were both quiet for a bit before David broke the silence. “Well, I have to go but I-”

“Stay. Please.” Brad didn’t break eye contact with the window.

“I...I guess I could stay.” David pulled up the chair that the lady had been in earlier. They sat there in silence for a while before David grabbed the remote for the TV. “Are you good with me putting something on?” Brad stayed quiet. “I’ll take that as a yes!” He scrolled through the small selection of movies before choosing something and relaxing into his chair.

…

They sat there for a while. Movies played while David talked about what had happened at the office that day. Poppy and Ian created an obstacle course to see who was better. Not better at one specific thing. Just better in general. Brad didn’t respond but every once in a while, a small smile would crack through.

“Well, it’s getting late so I think I should actually get going.”, David said, standing up and started walking out the door. Just before he left, Brad spoke.

“Thank you...for staying and all.” He, once again, wasn’t making eye contact.

“Of course, man. It’s no big deal!” There was a pause before Brad spoke again.

“They want me to do an inpatient program.”

“Oh? For…” David trailed off.

“Yah…” Brad started fidgeting with the corner of the blanket on the bed. “I don’t know what to do. Whether I should go or not.”

“Well, I’d say you should do what you think would benefit you best.”, said David, taking a couple steps towards him. Brad was silent.

“...Thanks, David.”

David gave a small wave as he walked out the door. Brad sat there awake for a while, unable to sleep. He sat there, listening to the sounds of the hospital through the door. A woman, presumably a nurse, poked her head in the room. “Would you like to order dinner?” Brad shook his head and the nurse left. He then spotted the gift bag that David had brought. He picked it up and removed the tissue paper stuffed in at the top. Inside there was a pig plush and a card. The plushy was adorable and very soft. He pet the pig plush, enjoying the soothing texture, before placing it in his lap and moving onto the card. It was your typical get better soon card. On the inside, there were either signatures or little get well messages from everyone. It seemed like the pig plush was Jo’s idea. Brad leaned over and placed the card on the side table next to his bed. He looked at it for a minute before grabbing the pig, getting under the covers and falling asleep.

#brad bakshi #brad bakshi fanfic #is this cringey? i can't tell.#mythic quest fanfic #mythic quest

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ladyloveandjustice · 3 years

Text

Wonder Egg Priority: Post-Mortem Spoiler-riffic Thought Dump (Repost)

Since I accidentally deleted the old post, might as well!

Quickest Summary: After her friend commits suicide, Ai Ohto enters a world where she’s promised if she protects the souls of other teenage girl suicide victims from the monsters that embody the horrors that drove them to their deaths, her friend will come back to life. During her journey, she meets three other girls fighting to save their loved ones and begins to form a bond with them.

Yeah so. This show. Sure had potential. The subject matter was dense (self harm, suicide, abuse, marginalization, transphobia, corrective rape, sexual assault, mental illness are just the beginning of the list of issues depicted), the animation was beautiful, and I’m someone who truly loves stories where one wrestles with symbolic and fantastical representations of social and psychological issues, who loves a magical twist on heavy struggles, it was catnip for me initially. The issue of suicide/depression/trauma/suicidal ideation and how it interacts with girlhood and adolescence is something that really hits close to home for me. It was clear from the beginning the show had so much potential- the system run by these creepy robot guys exploiting girls trauma and convincing them if they racked up enough wins like a video game they can, y’know, undo suicide is a fascinatingly fraught and rich set up that could have the potential to say powerful thing about the social systems that entrap us, Utena-style. It was also clear that the show had potential to fall apart under too many ideas and horribly mishandle the heavy subject matter and end up being another story by that enforces harmful myths and stereotypes about girls. BOY HOWDY GUESS WHICH ONE IT CHOSE.

The show has some genuinely powerful moments in early episodes (I’d say episode 7 was is maybe where you’d want to stop if you wanted to watch the show and get some enjoyment out of it) and the girls it introduces were all immediately fascinating and had some fantastic moments and the potential to be such great characters- unfortunately, it squandered pretty much all of that by the end of the show, when it introduced a brand new antagonist and a whole host of sci-fi concepts at the last minute with no space or ability to actually explore any of it. (A ROBOT IS SUPPOSEDLY MAKING GIRLS COMMIT SUICIDE Y’ALL IM SERIOUS). The girls who’d made progress on their character arcs were all abruptly retraumatized in a way that felt cruel and didn’t serve the story because again, no time to explore it!

Importantly, one of the central driving mysteries of the show- why Ai’s friend committed suicide- had the most disgusting, insulting answer it was possible to have. I’m not going to bother to dance around it- we had a teacher who was framed extremely creepily the entire show. He crossed definite lines- he drew paintings of his female students and submitted them to art competitions and drew a picture of Ai, in particular, AS AN ADULT WOMAN (???), with the title ‘latent heat’ (which is as one reviewer put it is the absolute worst thing he could have called it my soul wants to leave my body), and told her she would be hot like her mom (who he was dating) when she grew up. Those aren’t even red flags okay, that’s like….like…Akio Ohtori’s red car has pulled up in the station (I’m just making Utena references to cope shhh).

Ai’s central conflict was she had a crush on Sawaki but also was suspicious he might be a creep who did something to her friend Koito to contribute to her suicide. The conclusion is, nope, Koito is actually KER-AY-ZY and was in love with Sawaki and when he rejected her she falsely accused him of raping her while threatening to jump to her death and but OOPS that silly girl slipped and died! Oh and she’d totally done this before, driving another man to suicide with a false accusation, because this show supposedly exploring the issues of teenage girls is officially pivoting to “yeah but what about the adult men they’re the REAL victims of those malevolent fifteen year olds” now.

Of course we get this all from Mr. Sawaki, Koito doesn’t get a voice or to tell her side of the story here, because who the fuck cares about that I guess! We just accept Sawaki’s word- Ai doesn’t question it, Koito doesn’t get to say anything because she got amnesia or whatever when she got bought back to life and Ai can’t talk to her and Ai also specifically says she was wrong for being suspicious of a teacher made of red flags. I cannot overemphasize how fucked it is that this show is essentially saying young girls who get bad vibes from adult men (or hey, adults in general but this show only cares about men!) shouldn’t like, listen to themselves and be cautious. What a truly dangerous message to send.

(Also, if Koito made such a fuss, why did Ai never hear about it when she got back to school? It should have been pretty obvious whether she fell vs jumped to onlookers if Sawaki could apparently tell, why did no one say that to Ai? And when he was dating her mom did Sawaki bother to mention “oh yeah your daughter’s best friend, who died, you know the reason she’s a traumatized shut in right now, well she accused me of rape and then that’s why she fell to her death but I promise i did not rape her also she totally fell she didn’t jump :) I did hug her once which was definitely inappropriate considering what I apparently knew of her history but im a nice guy i swear :) anyway I’m so down to date you and be part of your family I’m sure it will help your daughter recover this a great idea”. Imagine a mother listening to that story and being like “yeah this is fine”.

In the Anifem podcast covering this trashfire, Cy Clewis, who taught in Japan, mentions how when she was teaching there, she heard of a teacher who was caught recording elementary school girls in the bathroom, and he didn’t even lose his teaching license, he just could no longer teach in that city. In a world where these kind things happen, where men still easily escape consequences, THIS is the story show told to tell, and I just want to emphasize how fucked that is.

So yeah, I could talk about other aspects of the show, (the way characters like Momoe and Kaoru in particular are handled is something I encourage you to seek out trans takes on, listening to the anifem podcast is a good start! But hey, at least this picture is super cute I’ll always like it:

LET YOUR FLAG FLY MY GUY)

But does it really matter. That one issue pretty much represents how hard the show fell apart and how utterly it fails in caring about its teen girl characters (plus two teen trans boys) and the reality of teen suicide, how utterly it falls apart in both emotional and narrative logic. I’m tired, so the only other thing I’ll say about I find interesting about this show is it COULD be a study in directors, writers and animators clashing. Nojima, the writer, went on record saying he truly DOES believe teen girls don’t commit suicide for the “logical’ reasons men do and are more impulsive (i know, i hope he steps on a lego, DON’T QUIT YOUR DAY JOB AND GO INTO PSYCHOLOGY), yet the director might not. The animators framing Sawaki as super creepy (Atelier emily goes into it very well) and including a lot of depth to a clumsy story may also be them either having different ideas or actively disagreeing with the writer’s vision.

And let’s not ignore how the show was a disaster for it’s poor animators and it’s possible staff may have even been hospitalized. I should mention this was a 13 episode anime with two recap episodes (one of them being 25 minutes of the 45 minute special that was released three months after episode 12).

Basically, the egg is on everyone’s face, and I feel so sorry for everyone involved (except Nojima because he’s pissed me off). I hope things get better for the anime industry and future ambitious projects like this value the health of the staff and stick their landing.

#wonder egg priority #reviews #my reviews #anime overview #winter 2021 anime

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crown-anon · 3 years

Text

@hearts1ck my beloved

November 1st

CW: explicit; more CWs under the cut

format: one-shot

people: GeorgeNotFound

pronouns: he/him; reader has male anatomy; more specifics under the cut

edited 14 March 2021

anonymous asked

consider. okay. CONSIDER. consider masochist george. okay?? okay. okay LISTEN.

I think I have a problem with gimmicks also. because. because. ever since strawberry milk george, I. I have not stopped thinking about strawberry flavored lube. because! listen okay hear me out.

(this is absolutely 110% a response to discovering that you share a birthday with him. what of it?)

I know everyone likes pillow princess george and. that's okay. that's FINE. these are not mutually exclusive.

george looking up at you with The LookTM wearing some pink strawberry milk lingerie. not even lingerie really! just something cute like that

& him being like. "I know you love me 👉👈 but I need you to fuck me like you don't"

so I was. thinking. that brat george is the exact kind of person to say (playfully & consensually) "but I don't wanna give you head, I just wanna fuck >:(" after you've got him worked up, maybe from teasing him throughout the day, or edging him a little. but you still need some type of lube. so you go to apply the first bottle you see and he's pink when he asks you "😳 is that ... strawberry ... ?" and you're confused like ??? bro you just asked me to fuck you into next week why're you interested in the flavored lube

but. but listen. he would get so enthusiastic about it. at first it's just "maybe I can stand to eat them out just a little bit before ..." and then after you come the first time it devolves really, really quickly into the need to just. take care of you. and it stretches on until you've come three or four times, and you're still shaking, and he's just. completely gone in subspace

hmm ... george climbing up onto your lap when he's done with you, going in to give you a kiss, and he tastes like strawberry. and he ends up moaning right into your mouth because he's been so horny but so? understimulated?? that he outright jumps as soon as his dick grazes your thigh. it would only take a couple stuttery grinds before he's finishing on both of your stomachs

and he's just so cute when comes, or when he bites down on your shoulder to keep himself quiet. and it's your birthdays. so, you decide you'll give him a reason to cry. and he'll finally get put in his place! it's a win-win for both of you!!

istg every time I send you an ask I discover something new about myself. you. you have made a dreamteam simp out of me. I am but a shell of the man I once was. I think I should thank you? [👑]

hearts1ck

i say this nearly every time you send stuff in but...... by god you own my soul. all of it. this – i – first of all, the implications of masochist george losing his fucking mind when you’re rough with him? guhhhfjklgjgf. and ,..d,,f,,, ,, ,, george in pink lingerie. i. i . a... pink satin slip maybe or .... ohghfd; oh my god those. that cat panty/bra set. im ascending im losing my brain as i type this i cannot –

okay im back on earth. he’d get into that rhythm and settle like liquid while he gets to work on you, and his subspace face is so self-satisfied and nearly smug so he’s just having the time of his life,,, and he makes such a loud noise when his dick twitches against your thigh and maybe... JUST MAYBE he whimpers extra watery when you drag his hips to grind against where you’re wet and dripping/your spent cock as if he’s the one who’d get overstimulated by it. when he finally leans away, eyelids heavy, you gently fit your hand over his jaw and ask, “did you even ask? it’s one thing to come without permission, but not even caring to ask? georgie, i might just be offended,” and he whines “green”s against your neck before you even check-in

and because u made it abt both of our birthdays ,,,, spanks for each year we’ve been alive methinks ??? and then the scratch down his ass gets him hard again and he’s so embarrassed by it, ,,, , ,, ,, ,, ,, ,

also thank god you’ve joined the george boat. i’m so proud of myself for hopefully being part of the reason you got dragged over here HJFKDHSKD

#👑 anon #(my beloved) #keep #anon thoughts: george #redsick #SHAWTY WANT THE WHOLE CREW SHAWTY BAD

as soon as you said birthday spanks I decided I had to write more about this. and I was going to leave more snippets in your askbox like the fucking gremlin creature I am, but then my thoughts started. actually having structure? and then I started writing it. and I tried to do homework and write on study breaks only but. I just kept coming back to this. this is the polar opposite of writer's block. I think I'm cursed or something. so here I am rushing to finish this so that I may rest in peace!!

yes I've been writing nonstop since I sent you that ask. what of it. what the fuck of it.

when I said I discover something new about myself every time we interact, I. I'm serious. I think I might be insane or something. I'm way too sadistic. you'll see. what the fuck is this? what the fuck did I just write??

this would have done so much critical psychic damage if I had posted it on November 1st in real life, but mental illness says I can't let my horny thoughts rattle around in my brain for that long. so!! it's you guys's problem now xoxoxo

I'm not fucking proofreading this. love you though 💗

I did end up proofreading actually. oops! looks like posting at 23:00 isn't always a good idea.

November 1st

CW: explicit, anal (kind of vague), bondage (collar + leash), corruption, domspace (I think??), edging, handjob, humiliation, masochism, oral, praise, sadism, spanking, subspace, swearing. I call George a whore and a slut at least once. and also, George calls yellow at one point. this one kind of surprised me so just. Be Careful. I cannot believe I wrote this. I don't know where this came from.

format: one-shot

people: GeorgeNotFound

pronouns: he/him; I use the word "sir;" reader has male anatomy; I use the words "cock," "dick," and "head;" reader can ejaculate

—

dawn shines through drawn curtains, illuminating the tile floor and your robed figure reflecting off it. batter sizzles in the skillet as you flip the last pancake over. this side looks golden brown, like honeycomb or caramelized sugar. that delicious, freshly-baked fragrance mingles with scented candles. it's perfect, you smile. he's going to love it.

you lift the pancake with a spatula, stacking it on top of the others on his plate. you bring it to his seat at the table, along with the butter, the syrup, the honey, the jam…and you go to pour him a drink.

"hey baby," you greet warmly to the sleepyhead rubbing his eyes in the entryway, still clinging to a pillow. his hair's a mess, only wearing socks and a sweatshirt that reaches down past his thighs. you reckon he'd only just crawled out of bed.

"morning…" he yawns, stumbling past you to take his seat.

"milk?" you ask, he only nods. "did you sleep okay?"

he hums affirmatively. "I…can we…"

one track mind, you joke inwardly. but you don't blame him. "of course," you open the fridge.

you hear him pause. "…is it too early for that?"

"no, no!" you give him a lighthearted laugh. "I kind of expected it, to be honest…I want it, too."

he's silent under the noise of you rummaging through the fridge. "I—"

"sorry—it looks like all we have is strawberry milk. is that alright?"

"yeah…yeah, that's alright. I…actually…wanted to try something new." you shut the fridge, he's fidgeting in his seat.

"hit me with it," your expression is gentle. you pass his cup off to him, but he holds his hand over yours a little too long, looking up at you.

"fuck me like you hate me."

you don't know if it's hearing him swear, or the way he said it so calmly, or how he closed his eyes and swallowed hard before his tone could dip down into something lower. but like a match in an torrent of gasoline, suddenly you're burning up.

you only realize you're staring when he bites his lip and looks down. you start to say something, but the words don't form.

he laughs nonthreateningly, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. "is that a yes?"

you laugh with him. "I…yes, absolutely yes." you turn back around to make your own stack of pancakes. "you should eat first, though."

"what?" he teases. "will I need the energy?"

you smile. "yeah. I think you will." you can practically feel him open his mouth in protest, but he stays silent after that.

and it stays mostly silent while you cook your pancakes. you hear the clinking of his fork on his plate, but it isn't very disruptive. it sounds like he's hurrying to finish his food.

when you go back to the table with your own platter, he's already done eating. he's red down to his neck, fidgeting with the hem of his sweatshirt, looking at you expectantly. you spot a pair of tassels peeking out from under it, just below his hip bones. is that…

he pulls the hem up just a bit, holding your gaze. he smiles, apparently satisfied watching your face heat up.

"I—you should go…go get ready," you manage. he gets up before you even finish your sentence, only stopping to give you a quick kiss on the cheek.

except it isn't quick, when he slides his hand down to rest firmly on your collar, and leans in to trail kisses down your neck. "a-and leave that on," you stutter.

he pauses, just under your jaw. "leave what on?" he murmurs.

your breath catches, you shut your eyes. "whatever the fuck it is you're wearing under there."

he's hardly grazing your skin, but you can feel how hot he is next to you. it takes all of your willpower not to shiver.

he pulls back quickly, only his hand lingering. "I don't know what you're talking about." and just like that, he disappears into your bedroom.

you reach up a hand tentatively to your collar, hot to the touch. I'm in way too deep, you decide, and force yourself to take a bite of your food despite your nerves.

—

"that," you hiss. "that fucking outfit. that."

"oh, this?" he bites his lip, hooking his thumb in the keyhole. "this's just what I went to bed in last night."

"fuck you. we both know that isn't true."

he tugs gently on his top, pulling it a little to the side. "what's the big deal? can't I wear something special for my birthday?"

"it's special, all right," and you leave it at that, opting instead to slot between his legs where he sits waiting on the edge of the bed. you bring up a hand to cup his jaw, brushing your thumb across his cheek. you'll never get enough of the way he looks at you, like you're intoxicating.

…? you frown.

"is something…missing?" he perks up instantly at "missing."

"what…?" he chooses his words carefully.

"the collar—your collar. where is it?" you turn away to start going through your bedside table, but the way his lips quirk up into a sly smile isn't lost on you.

that's lube…that's a vibrator…where the fuck is it…? "w-what collar?" he stumbles over his words.

your mind jumps to say, the collar that came with that outfit, or I know you know what I'm talking about, but you won't give him the satisfaction. you decide to speak a little darker, only a firm "George." you hear him swallow.

"w-well," his voice is shaky, "you only told me to leave on whatever I was wearing under my shirt. and…I wasn't wearing that collar at breakfast…s-so technically…"

you stop looking immediately. you turn to take him in, legs crossed, stance confident, but expression showing uncertainty. you can see the regret on his face. "get up." he takes a shallow breath. "get up."

"I'm—"

"don't I'm sorry me," you snap. "you look for your fucking collar on your own."

he slips off the bed, looking ashamed, but starts digging through the drawer all the same. "I really am sorry," he murmurs. you take his place sitting on the bed. he finds what he's looking for rather quickly: a simple white leather collar with a bell, and a leash. he hands them off to you shyly. "um, here…"

"good boy," you praise. "kneel."

he shuts his eyes and does as he's told. you can see the bliss wash over his face just at being ordered around. his lips part a little as he lets out a heavy breath. if only I knew what this would do to him, you muse, I'd have done this ages ago.

you fasten the collar, revelling in how he shivers at the gentle sensation of cold leather hanging around his neck. you leave it a little bit loose, but still comfortable, and hook the leash in its place. he sits obediently still on his knees, looking deep in thought.

"Oh, I know what I'm gonna do to you," you bait. "how old are you today?"

"mmm. twenty-five." he looks down.

you smile, holding tight onto the leash. "I'm gonna edge you. twenty-five times."

he flinches away immediately, yet hums in pleasant surprise when the leash snaps taught. the bell jingles stiffly. "no way. that's way too much."

"I think you should've thought about that before you wore that to breakfast," you decide, tugging a little. he's caught off-guard and stumbles forward, stopping himself by leaving a clumsy pair of kisses on the inside of your thigh. the metal and leather feel refreshingly cool against your feverish skin. "we've got all day, baby."

you expect to hear some kind of protest, you're crazy. or a playful taunt, I'm better off doing this by myself. but he knits his brows and openly moans at the thought. "all day…" he repeats.

he looks up at you, almost pleading, and you can hear the resignation in his voice when he whispers "alright."

"get up here," you command. "on top of me." as he climbs up into your lap, a little too eagerly, you add, "and take your dick out."

you shrug your robe off your shoulders while he's working on his panties, and without thinking, you ask, "color?"

he stops, leaving his head poking cutely over the waistband. he looks up at you again. "…what?"

"um…color," you explain. "like, how are you doing? is this okay? I don't actually want to hurt you. uhhh…green means good, yellow means slow down, and red means stop."

he stifles a laugh. "you're such a nerd. I'm okay."

"alright." you blush a little. "we can stop whenever you need to. this is for you…" you think of something horribly unsexy to say. "…birthday boy."

now he's really laughing, with his whole body. you think the way it makes his collar jingle is cute. "oh my god. shut up. just shut up," his expression turns serious, and he drops to a whisper, "and fuck me."

that got you hot again. you pull him by the leash into a kiss, you bite his lip, you eat him up. and you grab the both of you together with your other hand, you moan in tandem. you can feel how you took him by surprise in the way he twitches under your thumb, the way he leans into you with his whole body. you part from the kiss and he leans back on his heels, panting hard, holding on to your shoulders for support. you can feel him shaking a little.

when you move your hand all the way up the first time, you squeeze both of your heads gently, and he practically falls into you. muffled in the crook of your neck, he begs, "god, do that again."

so you do. again. and again. what was a string of stuttered breaths turns into a single broken moan as you jerk the both of you off. when you think you're getting close, you let go of yourself to focus all your attention on him.

"fuck, sir," he whines—hahaha, that sir made your cock leak a little. he shut his eyes tight. "I-I-I think—I think I'm—"

just like that, you stop, and he goes slack, practically laying on you. but he doesn't grind back, or even move to touch himself. that won't last very long.

you let him come back down, knowing edging takes a lot out of you; maybe even more so than actually coming does. slowly but surely, his breathing steadies. you rub between his shoulderblades affectionately, still trying to ground yourself, too.

once you've found your voice again, you question, "are you gonna count for me?"

he makes a sound against your skin, somewhere between excitement and fear. "…o-one." you revel in how fucked-out he sounds already.

"one what?" you prod.

he seems at a loss, like he's forgotten himself, what he said. after a minute or two of pondering, he catches on. "…sir."

it's your turn to moan. your dick jumps at the honorific, still mostly untouched against your stomach. "good boy." and you dive back in. twenty-four to go.

—

it's noon. you're working on nineteen. and your partner's getting much more…expressive. he's started biting his hand to keep himself quiet, but he's still…

"I-I—oh fuck, I'm—fuck, I-I'm—I'm—" he whimpers through his teeth. and he yelps, whole body shaking, bell jingling incessantly, when he comes all over your hand and stomach.

you take your hand off him immediately, and this time he does try to reach down, ride through it, but you grab both his wrists to stop him. he grinds down uselessly against your thigh and your dick. although you're still hard, and only a hairline trigger away from coming yourself, it doesn't stop you from keeping this brat in line. you only bite your lip and close your eyes.

he leans his forehead against yours, moving in to give you a kiss, but you push him away.

"did you never learn how to fucking count?" you growl.

he winces. "I-I-I-I'm…I'm sorry—"

you scowl at your hand, covered in come. "here, slut," you raise it up to his lips. "clean this off for me."

he tears up a little, but takes your fingers into his mouth all the same. pretty quickly, though, he spits them back out.

"it doesn't taste good…" he complains.

"oh? oh, it doesn't?" you mock. "but it felt good, when you came without my permission, like a cheap fucking whore."

a couple of tears spill over, roll down his cheeks, yet he says nothing, only moving back in to lap his come off your hand. you can see it in his expression that he's not very happy about it, but he doesn't protest further.

"is this good enough, sir?" he asks, when it seems that he's gotten it all. it looks clean enough, you agree. you grab him by the chin, hooking your thumb in his mouth. you don't even have to tell him to suck.

"you come without my approval again, and it's over. you can go back to playing minecraft—or what-the-fuck-ever—with your friends for your birthday. do you want to sleep on the couch, Georgie?"

if he wasn't crying before, he's definitely crying now. he doesn't shake his head, but he circles your fingertip with his tongue enthusiastically, as if to say, I'll be good, I'll be good this time, looking up at you doe-eyed.

"bend over for me," you demand. "across my lap."

he does so immediately. he slips a little bit while he's changing positions, you hear the bell ring, and he scrambles to correct himself. he settles with his ankles crossed and his head in his hands, propping himself up on his elbows. you feel a little bad, you admit, but you won't budge; he has a safeword, you trust that he'll use it.

"let's try that again," your tone softens. "I want you to count for me, okay?"

he nods.

you pull his panties to the side, pause briefly, and bring down your hand with a satisfying smack.

"ohhhhhh—" he moans, jolting a little. "—holy shit, did you just spank me?"

your stomach drops, you go to rub him gently where you just hit him. "is that okay—?"

"it's hot, it's so hot, fuck," he shifts in your lap. "um, sorry…one."

seriously, something about hearing him swear awakens something in you, every time. you're fired up. you spank him again.

"mmm—two…" is he…? "three…"

you pause to massage his ass again, and to speak. "you're…you're hard again, aren't you?"

you didn't even spank him yet, but he lets out a moan. "fuck, I—I just. I want you. I want this. so, so much."

you wonder if this is actually the same George who was fidgeting with his pillow in the dining room this morning.

"you're so bad, getting turned on by something like this," you tease. he only moans in response.

"four—five—six—seven…" he chokes out. "it's starting to sting…"

you take a break, kneading the skin where your angry red handprint is starting to take shape.

"eight…nine…but god, it hurts so good…" he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. "ten…"

at ten, you linger for a moment, holding a handful of his ass. "does it?"

"yes—yesyesyes," he buries his face in the pillow, and shivers. "fuck, eleven…twelve…"

you pull his panties down to his knees, and switch sides. he lifts his hips up, so I can reach him better, you guess. you don't miss the telltale glint of a butt plug, but you'll get to that later.

"thirteen—fourteen—fifteen—sixteen," he moans between slaps. he's gripping the pillowcase so hard his knuckles are white.

in this new position, the way he jumps with every hit makes his cock brush against yours just right. fuck, you're still hard from earlier. this time you're the one who whimpers.

"seventeen, eighteen," he pauses, breathless. you pull gently on his leash, he arches his back and moans, "n-nineteen." his bell jingles.

he grinds down, just for a moment, and the friction is delicious. you're a little dizzy, you think you might've thrust back. you both sigh at the feeling.

"…t-twenty…see? I-I can count…I'm a good boy…I'm good for you…aren't I?"

"you are," you murmur, but you aren't sure he hears you. "you're so good…"

"twenty-one—twenty-two…I-I feel like I haven't done anything right today…twenty-three…"

"…George…?" you hear a muffled sob.

"twenty-four…" he mumbles.

"George?" you start to get concerned. he just keeps crying. "hey…" you whisper. you gently prompt him to turn him over; the pillow's a little wet. you pull the panties off all the way, and get him out of the bra, which had a little stray come on it. you help him sit up in your lap, and pull him into a hug.

"am I really just a whore…?" he asks brokenly.

"you've been so good for me, baby. you've done everything I've asked." you wipe his tears away with your thumb. "are you okay?"

"but I—" he coughs. "—I came too soon, I came without your permission…"

you kiss his hair, and hold him to your chest. "you've been so patient. I'm proud of you."

he finally wraps his arms around you. "I-I'm sorry."

"nonsense," you reassure. "your comfort takes priority. are you okay? color?"

"I…" he searches for the words. "I dunno. yellow? I…that hurt, I think. being…degraded?"

you comb through his hair with your fingers. "I understand. thank you for telling me. I love you."

—

you stay like that for a minute. you grab him a snack and a drink, but for the most part, you just enjoy each other's company, tangled-up together. you don't bother putting your clothes back on.

it's later in the evening. you're straddling him, peppering his shoulders with kisses, and he's giggling underneath you. he turns over to give you a short and sweet kiss.

"baby?" he says, looking expectantly.

"what is it?" you sit back on your heels.

he hesitates. "…I wanna keep going. from earlier."

you're serious again. "are you sure you're okay?" you grab his hand, bringing it up to kiss his fingertips. "I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm alright," he assures. "I remember you promising me an all-day thing, though."

you blush, a little surprised by his forwardness. "of course. I think…I…" you laugh. "I wanna fuck you."

"yeah?" he smiles, leaning up close. "show me how much."

you hold his jaw while you kiss him, biting his bottom lip between your teeth. he tastes like the coffee and cream you made him earlier. you feel his breath hitch. he reaches up to hold your shoulders.

you pull back. "hey, blow me first."

"what? why?" he giggled.

"it's been a couple hours, I'm not hard anymore," you coax. "I thought you liked taking orders?"

he cringed. "but come tastes gross!"

you slid off him and hopped off the bed, opening the drawer. "suit yourself. you get to watch me jack off, then."

"fine by me, I think you look good when you masturbate."

"ohhh, I forget, you're too blissed-out to pay attention to how I look when you're getting fucking owned."

"I am not!"

"you are too!" he sticks his tongue out at you.

you open the lid, pouring a little on your hand, a little on your cock. it's translucent pink, seems a little fragrant. you give yourself a couple of strokes with a sigh.

he's quiet for a second, then, shyly, "um…is that…strawberry flavored…?"

you bite your lip. "I thought you weren't gonna give me head?"

"I was just curious." it's a weak lie, but you say nothing.

your eyes are shut, but you can feel him moving around a bit on the bed, you hear his bell ring a couple times. you feel a hand on your thigh, so you decide to peek. and holy shit.

your partner's made his way to the floor, on his knees between your legs, holding his leash in his mouth, his fucking mouth, what the fuck. his thumb's rubbing circles on the inside of your thigh. the half-lidded look he's giving you should be criminal.

"you—I thought you said you wouldn't…" you can't find the words. you reach out and take the leash from his mouth. you see your hand shake in front of you.

"I'm just watching…" he whispers, looking up at you, mesmerized.

you're only able to get a couple of pumps in before he's joining you, hand over yours as you get yourself off. just the extra sensation of somebody else's touch is enough to make you bite back a moan.

"fuck—!" you jolt when he licks a stripe up the underside. he mouths over the head, jerking you off on his own now. you move to grip the sheets in one hand, his leash in the other. and you come without warning. you see it end up on his hand and your stomach before you shut your eyes tight.

he's quiet while you're coming down, just helping you ride it out, giving you kisses on your thighs. when you look back down at him, he's got two of his fingertips in his mouth, licking them clean. he stands up abruptly, it startles you a little. you see his bell ring. and he grabs you by the hips and leans down to your midriff.

"…I don't think I cleaned you off all the way earlier…" he breathes, and he starts to lap up the mess of his and your come that's been on you since this afternoon.

what the fuck. why is this so hot? why is he so hot? all too soon, your spent cock twitches in interest at your lover. he cups it with a hand, smiling against your tummy. you're so sensitive it hurts. you think you mean to say something, but nothing comes out.

"hmm…?" he bites his lip. "you still want some more?" all you can do is whine. at this point, you don't know if it's in protest or invitation.

you don't get the chance to find out either, because fuck, he's really going down on you now. you don't know what the fuck he's doing with his tongue, or where his gag reflex went, but at this rate you're gonna come again.

"George—George, baby, I—slow down, I-I'm—" you plead. his leash slips out of your hand, you tip your head back.

he swallows.

—

the last thing you remember is coming harder than you ever have in your life. you think you held him by his hair. you might've fucked his mouth a little. he's never let you come in his mouth before…fuck…

it's nighttime now. he's riding your thigh, got one of his legs slotted between yours. the friction between his knee and your overstimulated cock feels embarrassingly good. you're so dizzy, all you can articulate is a loud moan. you don't sound at all like you remember. his bell keeps ringing and ringing and ringing as he grinds against you.

he leans down, one arm holding your hip, the other keeping himself propped up. he bites your shoulder, hard, hard enough to bruise. he comes on both of your stomachs.

"George," you beg. you're losing your voice.

"mmmmmmsir," he slurs. "fuck me."

"George, I…" you don't know what you're saying. the end of your sentence turns into a whimper.

"you need me to get you hard again? you need me to rile you up?" he turns to kiss your jaw, feeling around for your dick. "like this?"

"George," you sound urgent, until he squeezes right around the head, and you forget what you were saying. you're pretty fucking close to forgetting who you are entirely.

he sits up on top of you, grinning. "love the way you say my name, sir."

that name. all it takes is the way he says that fucking name and you're ready to go again. you flip the two of you over, so that you're towering over him instead. "you still didn't. fucking. ask me. if you could come."

he giggles, a little crazed. he hooks his arms around his knees, hugging them to his chest.. "so what? so what? you gonna fuck me 'till I behave?"

"yes," you reach down, "I think I will." and you pull out the butt plug he (probably forgot he) had in all day.

"fuck—" he sobs. you watch his dick bob. precome drips into a pool on his stomach. "—green—green—so fucking green."

you're still sensitive from coming twice—you're pretty sure he is too. you lean down to give him a kiss, you moan into each other's mouths. he tastes like strawberries and his and your come. it is a little gross, you admit. but he's so tight and so fucking cute that you can't bring yourself to care. you part, and there's a line of salvia connecting the two of you.

"wait—" you say, but it comes out like a growl. "roll over."

he gets on his hands and knees, reaching back and spreading himself open for you. fuck.

you fuck him like that, holding the leash tight, loving the way he arches his back into the bed. the bell on his collar jingles incessantly.

you spank him, one last time.

"th-that's twenty-f-five—oh, fuck, sir," he growls, clinging on to the blankets for dear life.

you pin one of his hands in place and reach down to touch him. he starts laughing again.

"mmmmmmay I please come, sir? I—fuck—I'm so close, soclosesoclose," his breath stutters, you can hear the breaks in his voice. he buries his face in the blankets.

I'm close, you think, but the words don't make it out. "you're so good—you're so fucking good—come for me—fuck, come for me."

—

you're a mess. there's some drying solution of come and lube on your stomach. not to mention whatever the fuck's going on with your hair. your robe is discarded haphazardly on the floor. you think you've got a hickey, but you can't remember where.

actually, you're both a mess. he's also covered in come, sweat, and lube. he's got a red ring around his neck where you pulled him by the leash a little too hard. he's just covered in bruises. he clings to your arm, still fast asleep. you both passed out pretty quickly after…whatever that was, but you got back up a couple hours later. it doesn't look like he did, though.

actually, your whole bedroom is a mess. a blanket or two ended up discarded on the floor. there's an empty bottle of edible lube somewhere around here. your kitty lingerie set, still dirty, somehow ended up hanging in the closet. the first time you woke up you were both cuddling with a butt plug that you misplaced in the heat of the moment.

you don't think you've ever seen him like that. you can't even put it into words. you've never spanked him. he's never called you sir. you've never come in his mouth. he's never…begged for you like that before. you've never been so exhausted after coming that you both just, just fainted.

you feel lightheaded, and dead tired. you know you both must have gotten back up and gone at it at least a couple more times, but it's blurry, you can't remember. all you know is your vibrator's missing, and you feel…unusually empty, like you do the morning-after getting railed a little too hard.

last night…what the fuck happened last night?

you contemplate getting up, slipping your arm out of his embrace, pulling the covers back up around him, leaving to make breakfast. you're kind of disgusting, several hours after sex without cleaning up properly. you want to get yourselves some washcloths, maybe take shower together, or run him a bath. you know he's gotta be way more sore than you are.

you catch yourself staring, lost in thought; he just looks too cute when he's very clearly roughed up, but still sleeping soundly. and with the way he wanted…the way he needed you yesterday, you don't think he would want to wake up alone.

maybe it's okay if we sleep in a little longer.

you stroke his hair and whisper, "happy birthday, baby boy."

—

edited 14 March 2021

#limeade-zest #georgenotfound x reader #george x reader #george davidson x reader

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youllgetawayeventualy · 3 years

Text

We All Owe Britney Spears An Apology:

"2007 belonged to Britney Spears. The year that saw the world's most famous singer get pushed from her pedestal with a throng of thirsty paparazzi waiting below. That year, against Britney's will, her personal life became public property. We were welcomed into the life of an icon on a downwards spiral without her permission; asked to comment on it, make up our mind on whether the world's most beloved pop star was worth saving... If we were to take everything fed to us by tabloid media at the time at face value, we would be led to believe that she was a victim of her own making - brought down by her actions rather than the ones of those who stalked her every move."

"Spears has come to represent something - something important enough that it keeps rearing its head. As has been pointed out, she emobides the disdain in which this culture holds its young women; the desire to sexualize and spoil them while young, and to degrade and punish them as they get older... What happened to Spears this weekend (VMA 2007) was actually pretty hard to watch - a gross example of exactly how much malicious satisfaction we get out of the embarrassing weakness of an addictive, postpartum, out-of-control mess of a human being... She was hired by MTV to attract viewers eager to see her make an ass of herself... Sarah silverman took the stage after the performance, she sated the public's appetite for girl on girl evisceration, unfunnily identifying Spears as a 25 year old who's "already accomplished everything she's going to accomplish in her life," calling her sons "the most adorable mistakes you ever will see,"... It was spectacularly painful, mostly because it violated one of the rules of dirty mean comedy: don't shared your talons on the weak. Imagine Spears' having come off a stage where she had been invited to humiliate herself only to hear a crowd roar in whooping, derisive appreciation for the woman narrating her breakdown... Spears, it seems, two children and five years of self abuse later, no longer pleases the public with her house glass shape... Sure, she looked better in a bikini than probably 98 percent of the Americans sitting on their couches and howling at her, but she was no longer porn star perfect"

"Pushed into show business by a striving mom, molded into a confusing vamp-virgin and told to sing songs about being hit while wearing a schoolgirl outfit... Offered no moral structure or opportunity to build a personality of her own... A victim of grotesque class expectations that chucked her back into the cheetos-and-trucker-hats ghetto as swiftly as erotic expectations plucked her from it"

"Just what this world needs is another trailer trash baby from a trailer trash mama"

"Oops, did she do it again? Reproduce that is"

"Sympathy is lacking from most conversations about Britney's body, babies, and mothering. Also missing is responsible discussion of possible mental illness, emotional distress, medication side-effects, or that Britney might have needed help."

"I noticed her hair was gone. I remember asking here, 'why do you shave your head?'" She replied "It was, you know, 'I just don't want anybody, anybody touching my head. I don't want anyone touching my hair. I'm sick of people touching my hair.'"

"Britney Spears was a symbol for her entire public life. And, even in her seclusion, we can’t stop seeing her as something more, and less, than simply a person... life, as teen-pop blank slate or isolated object of devotion, would be a lot for any person to have endured. Both in one lifetime makes Spears both a fascinating living document of how our culture treats those we purport to love, and a deeply sad case."

"She managed, for just about one second, to embody every contradictory message about female worth out there - wholesome, but sexy, but pure, but dirty, but "girl next door," but glamorous - and we venerated her for it. Then she slipped up, and we took great joy in tearing her to pieces. See? She's actually having sex now! See? Her innocence was an act! Look! The girl we encouraged to be an unthinking, largely unspeaking body didn't turn out to be a nuclear scientist! My God! Her body is capable of gaining weight! SHAME, SHAME. At a certain point, Britney Spears lost her worth, in the public eye. When she had children, gained weight, lost the fascination of the new. When she became a grown-up; when she became publicly known as a flawed, suffering person instead of a cartoon; when she stopped pretending to be a fantasy."

#Britney spears #Britney #free britney #Britney 2007 #2007 #Vma 2007 #Gimmie more #Mental health #post partum depression #Addiction #Framing Britney spears

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amariaamaris · 3 years

Text

Of Changes and Revelations

I got this idea from the other Marvel and TVD crossover that I did, it is going to be (hopefully) very different. I hope it comes out well and that I do it justice... I’m already working on a second part, I felt that this was getting a little to long! Please let me know what you think and if there are any grammar/spelling/punctuation things that need fixing. Constructive criticism is always welcome. This took me forever, there were so many roadblocks and questioning myself on if I actually wanted to write this. Thanks to my sister pushing me and my imagination running wild with promises of what I can do in the future with this... I decided to go through with it... so enjoy!

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After it’s all said it done; after Esther failing in killing her children, Bonnie’s mother being turned to break the link, Abby bailing (again), Klaus forcing Bonnie to break the spell Esther did... The expulsion of magic that resulted inadvertently saved Finn’s life, knocking out the scooby gang in the process (including most everyone in the town). While also setting fire to anything flammable within the radius of the town (leaving only a select few homes and buildings untouched). It’s safe to say all the white oak is gone... along with multiple buildings.... (oops?) The poor trees are all fried, though luckily they have strong bark, so they’ll survive (it also helps that Bonnie helped to heal them).

All of it coalesces and brings Bonnie to locking herself up in her grams house for as long as she pleases with no acknowledgement of the outside world. She had methodically gone through the house and unplugged the internet, tv’s, shut down her phone, and all other electronics. She just wants to be left alone, Bonnie is exhausted; she’s tired of being used, abused, and taken for granted.

She had found a boundary spell in one of the grimoires to keep those with ill or selfish intent off her property and the fu- away from her (especially certain vampires). In the middle of the week Bonnie left her grams house and went to the school. At the beginning of the week she set up this time to test out of high school.

Bonnie made sure to blend in with the crowd to not be spotted by her “friends”; they may have not seen her, but she definitely saw them. She took the test within three and a half class periods and got the hell out of there. Bonnie drove away like a bat out of hell and made it back to her grams house as fast as she possibly could. She had completely moved into her grams house throughout the one after another of the supernatural shit show that she now calls her life (or rather did call her life). Not like her father was ever around for her to bother staying in his house.

The plus side of testing out of high school is that she can go and get whatever she needs without being worried about being ambushed by her “friends” or the Mikaelson's. Bonnie has also decided that she is going to take all the time that she needs to spend on self-love, working with her magic to learn, and embrace it joyfully. She also has been spending time in meditation and speaking with all of her ancestors. For once in her life, Bonnie Shelia Bennett has finally decided to be selfish and damn the consequences.

Little did she know that her new change would go right along with a huge change that will flip her world on its axis and bring up deeply buried memories.

————

Rudy Bennett knew that this day would come, he knew that eventually they would hunt him down. After all, he did abandon his post, he cut off all contact and went rogue. In doing so, also kept his child away from her culture and her people. He knows that if they find out about her and his lack of parenting, that would sign his fate.

Rudy couldn’t hide his shaking hands as he poured himself a drink and promptly chugged what was in his glass. He did decide that he wouldn’t run or hide, he was going to wait for them to come. He just got done pouring his second one when the lights flickered off; causing a shiver of fear to run down his spine, he could also feel sweat on the back of his neck.

When the lights flickered on, there were two Dora Milaje standing on the other side of his desk. Still as stone holding their vibranium spears, with the king and his cousin standing in between them. Both in different black panther suits (armor?), causing Rudy to gulp. Rudy could feel more sweat break out on his skin as he warily stared at his king.

“D’Kadi Dzube, you’ve been missing a long time.” Rudy or rather D’Kadi watched as both the men tapped on their collars and watched as the mask melted away and showed their faces. Rudy could hear his blood rushing to his ears as he felt himself pale a little. “You were once my father’s most trusted war dog. Then one day, you disappeared without a trace. Just a few months ago we found you... we also found some very interesting information. D’Kadi Dzube you have a daughter that you hid from your people. From my understanding you have been neglecting her as well.”

Rudy could hear ringing in his ears and the blood rushing through his body, he could imagine that he looked white as a sheet. Everything was blurring and before he knew it his eyes were rolling and he fell into darkness.

————

Bonnie could feel something coming to the depths of her bones, it would cause her to pause as her hair would stand up on its ends. Which would lead her to looking out the windows, but there was nothing there. It got to the point where Bonnie decided to add an extra warding to the house rather than the property. Evidently to keep anyone away from the structure of the home, while still being able to enter the yard (only if they pass the wards on the property that is).

Bonnie had started a cute little herbal and vegetable/fruit garden in her backyard, along with some landscaping spanning around the whole house. Along with flowers on both sides of the pathway walking up to the house. Bonnie has never before felt this free and happy. That doesn’t change the fact that she still feels a phantom twinge of pain when she thinks of how her friends haven’t even tried to come visit her. Not. A. Single. One.

Hell! Even Klaus showed up! Not that he could get on the property and it’s not like he was checking up on her... but still! Bonnie lets out an annoyed huff and shakes her head as she focuses back on her plants at the front of the house. She tries to work through her agitation; at her friends, the Mikaelson’s, the Salvatore’s, her parents, her grams for not teaching her from the beginning, at herself for not being smarter and wiser, and Bonnie might as well add the world to the list to.

She very quickly finds herself falling into a flow of taking care of the plants as everything washes away. Bonnie has found that in many instances doing something like this puts her in a meditative trance that helps to center her. Two hours pass with Bonnie working on her plants, when she hears a car drive up and park on the curb.

Bonnie allows herself to slow down in her landscaping work, but doesn’t turn around - even as she hears the car doors open and shut. She can also hear strangely accented voices talking, both male... but she can sense more people with them. Hearing them coming closer makes Bonnie glad that she chose to wear a wide brimmed straw hat that belonged to her grams (she’s rather not have people recognize her before she can tell whether or not they are threats).

“Excuse me? Are you the daughter of Rudy Bennett and Abby Bennett....” She freezes, but gives no answer. Bonnie can already feel her magic gathering, ready to motus the hell out of all of the people behind her. Receiving no answer, the people behind her exchange looks, “Granddaughter to Shelia Bennett?” Bonnie feels her agitation spike, causing her to rip off her dirty gardening gloves and throw them to the ground.

Bonnie turns around to look at them, noticing two men that look like cousins, two bald women that have what look to be tribal tattoos on their heads, and a random white man wearing clothing far heavy for how warm it is. Bonnie can practically feel her magic crackling at her fingertips and through her hair. “That depends on who is asking and why...?”

One of the cousins move to step forward, but upon seeing the look on her face, thinks better of it. Though, that didn’t stop him from kindly smiling at her, “My name is T’Challa, this is my cousin N’Jadaka, these two women are Okoye and Ayo, and this is James Barnes. I would like to speak to you about your father.”

Bonnie studies all of them and then flicks her eyes back to T’Challa, before she can respond with something biting, she hears whispers upon the wind. She allows herself to slightly tilt her head to listen better. After a few seconds Bonnie focuses back on T’Challa and the people he brought with him. “I’m not interested in talking about the sperm donor that calls himself my father. I could care less what type of underground cultish mafia he got himself into. If he owes you anything make Rudy deal with it, his problem’s aren’t mine to deal with.”

Bonnie quickly makes her way onto the porch of the house - without turning her back on them (she doesn’t have a death wish) - already knowing that whoever these people are, they aren’t going to let her off easily. N’Jadaka, the man with weird bumps all over his extremely musc- no! Bonnie quickly mentally shakes herself as he snickers with a smirk on his face. “I don’t think I have ever heard someone call people from Wakanda a cult or mafia. The little kitten does have a point cousin.” He runs his tongue over his teeth, “She should be wary, she knows nothing about her father’s history. “

“N’Jadaka...” T’Challa gives him a sharp warning look, not noticing Bonnie moving to open the front door to slip inside. “Where do you think you’re going kitten? We said we wanted to talk that’s what you’re going to let us do!” He moves to go onto the porch, but feels like he hit a brick wall, N’Jadaka also gets a nasty zap throughout his entire body. Causing him to hiss slightly in pain as the group takes notice of the wind picking up and hissing whispers upon the wind (not that they could make out what they were saying). They do notice how Bonnie seems to understand exactly what is being said upon her head whipping around to face the road. All of them watched as she ripped off her hat and lightly tossed it onto the porch swing, they heard the sharp angry hiss escape from her as her green eyes darkened.

The group from Wakanda evenly spaced themselves out as they turned upon hearing a car door slam, they all watch as a long blonde haired young woman walked around the car and onto the property. “Bonnie! Where have you been? We have all been trying to get a hold of you, you haven’t been at school, you haven’t been answering your phone or showing up to practice! We’ve been worried! Honestly Bonnie Bennett you better have a good reason for completely cutting all of us out of your life... who are these people?!” Bonnie stares at Caroline for a few seconds realizing that her chest no longer hurts when thinking of her ex-friends. In fact Bonnie realizes with sudden clarity that there isn’t pain when she thinks of her friends, only white hot fiery fury and looking at Caroline only makes her annoyance and fury rise at the audacity that she had to show up to her grams house unannounced at her house, at her sanctuary.

“Who they are is none of your business Caroline, in fact they were just leaving, like you will be. I’m not particularly in the mood to talk to people that ruined my perfectly peaceful day by arriving unannounced.” Turning her attention to the curious onlookers Bonnie continues “I don’t care to talk about Rudy and whatever shit show he’s gotten himself into,” looking to Caroline “and I don’t want to be forced to listen to lies! I’m well aware that none of you have noticed my absence up until a couple days ago. I’m also aware that none of you actually care for me, all of you just see me as some weapon to be used. Well I’m done being your sword and shield. I want all of you the hell off of my grams property. Do whatever you want with Rudy, it’s not my problem and I want nothing to do with it. Caroline you and the rest of those assholes can shove your lies and demands up your asses. I’m not going to be your quick fix to problems you brought on yourselves. Grow the fuck up and deal with them yourself! Now get the fuck off of my property!”

The front door slams viciously behind Bonnie, whose screaming voice still echoed in the air with whispers following it, the group from Wakanda all had their eyebrows almost to their hairlines. While Caroline’s jaw was dropped almost to the ground in shock and hurt. “You should leave Care-o-line, you’re no friend of hers.” N’Jadaka’s voice quickly pulls her out of it and brings up her misplaced righteous fury. “Oh, really, I am her friend. Who the hell are you? From the way it was looking none of you are friends of Bonnie’s! I’m her best friend!! You had to have done something to upset her, she would have never said something like that or treated me that way! All of you are the ones who should leave!”

N’Jadaka moves to step forward, but James puts his hidden vibranium arm in front of him and says only one thing in a harsh warning tone. “Erik...” Causing Erik to suck on his teeth for a second then back down. While T’Challa steps forward with his hands up in the universal sign of peace. “Miss...” Caroline huffs out her answer to his silent question, “Caroline Forbes!” He immediately gives a soft smile, “Miss Forbes, I believe all of us need to leave Bonnie alone for the time being. If it makes you feel better we will get into our car first, but we will only be leaving after you drive away. She is important to our people and I will not risk something happening.” Caroline works her jaw as the gogs in her brain slowly turn, her eyes sharpen for a few seconds, but she quickly gives in and slowly, dejectedly nods.

None of them notice the whispers on the wind that one small young Bennett witch listens too as they all drive away, with a contemplating look in her eyes.

————

The next day has Bonnie working in the backyard harvesting the herbs, vegetables, and fruits that she needs. Bonnie gives absolutely no reaction to N’Jadaka’s presence as he walks around the back of the house. “You know it’s seen as extremely rude to not only invite yourself to someone’s house, especially not knocking on the front door.” She has to hide her slight smile upon hearing him huff out a laugh, “I’d love to knock on your front door kitten, the only problem is... I couldn’t seem to get on the first step.” Bonnie can sense the question in his words, but chooses to ignore it and continue her work. She can feel him watching her and gets quickly fed up witch a harsh huff Bonnie stops what she is doing, stands up, and turns to face him.

She has to give herself a few seconds to get accustomed to the height difference between the two of them, to put it simply... he dwarfs her. Not only in height, but in sheer muscle mass, she averts her eyes to try and hide the affect he’s having on her. Bonnie decides to chalk it up to the fact that she hasn’t had any direct human contact for a while. “Look N’Jadaka...” “Erik” His interruption causes her to blink, “What?” Erik let’s out a quiet huff while a smirk plays along his lips. “My colonizer name kitten, is Erik. I’d rather go by it than N’Jadaka... has a lot more pride in it than my other name does.”

Bonnie quietly mouths colonizer with a confused look, but decides that they can come back to that later. “Fine! Erik... just...” Bonnie let’s out breath and frowns as her eyes play across the plains of his face and the outdoors. “I don’t know why... but my ancestors like you and they say that I can trust you. Now I’m going to do something that I never do... I’m going to trust my ancestors.” She allows herself to walk up to him and look him directly in the eyes “and if you ever... and I mean ever break that trust. I will personally find a way to kill you, slowly, painfully, and only when your begging for mercy will I kill you... got it?” While she was talking her finger was poking him in the chest to help emphasize her words with a sickly sweet smile upon her face.

Erik gives a slow smile knowing that he shouldn’t find himself turned on by her threat, but he is. He allows himself to carefully grab the hand she was poking him with and holds onto it. Erik chooses to ignore the quiet gasp that escapes her lips... for the moment “You got it kitten, would you like me to explain what you were very unwilling to talk about yesterday with my cousin?” He watches completely fascinated as her eyelashes shadow her eyes while she thinks it over, when she looks up and focuses back on him, she gives a hesitant nod. “Okay, but your helping me with my garden... if we have to talk about something that I would rather never have to think about again, your going to be useful and help.” Her words pull a sharp laugh out of Erik, as he grins and gives a nod in acceptance.

Once she quickly shows him what do to and what to look for, they start working. As they work he explains everything to her, everything hidden from her, everything that her father has done... everything. It completely shatters her, it obliterates everything she thought she knew about her father and his side of the family, everything she thought she knew and understood about herself; it sends her completely into orbit. She doesn’t even realize that she is crying, nor does she realize that she is raging at Erik and upon his body. Her fists swinging to hit his chest as her magic angrily swirls around them. Bonnie feels as though she is shattered into a trillion shimmering atoms being carried away upon the wind. She can’t tell if she will ever find herself... how can she? Bonnie doesn’t think that she can gather the exploded pieces... how can she find them? They have scattered to the wind getting caught in the trees, falling to the streams of water to be carried and caught elsewhere. Bonnie can’t even feel Erik tightly holding her as he somehow carries her inside of her grans house. And eventually, much later into the night, he helps to pull her back together, but for now. He try’s to help hold together what little is left of Bonnie Shelia Bennett.

As her true name echoes through her entire being...

Ahnika...

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I hope you enjoyed it, please let me know what you think. The second part is on its way! Peace, love, and joy!

#thevampirediares #black panther #bonnie bennett #rudy bennett #t'challa #n'jadaka #dora milaje #crossover #james buchanan barnes #white wolf #non canon

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kim-chann · 4 years

Note

How would the guys take care of a sick s/o? Also I love your writing !!

Thank you! :)

Thank you for 100+ followers!! 💕💕

Also, do you guys even like lengthy headcanons? Should I shorten them?

Osomatsu: Please do not rely on him, I beg of you. Osomatsu won’t even notice that you were sick in the first place. He would be confused, ask you to hang out with him, being completely oblivious that you cannot physically succumb to his wishes. Once you tell him that you’re sick, he’ll be like, “Really? Oh... I didn’t know. You should make it more obvious, S/O-chan/kun!” As you’re in your bed, your face red, and clearly ill. What a dumb ass.

But Osomatsu would try to make you feel better because “that’s the man I am!” He would go to the grocery store to get some canned soup (cause he doesn’t know how to cook homemade soup), but gets distracted by all the other snacks and buys everything else but the soup.

When he arrives, he’ll realize that he didn’t buy the soup, “Oops, my bad...” He’ll rub the back of his head as you glare menacingly at him. You would really need to take care of yourself for the matter, but his only useful thing for you is to get you water and entertain you. But overall, he’s useless.

Karamatsu: This man will go to the full extent to make you good soup. He’ll first make sure that you’re comfortable in bed before he leaves to get the ingredients. You would have to stop him before he travels all over the world just to get some ingredients for your soup and tell him that the local grocery store would do just fine.

“Heh,” He whips off his sunglasses, “An angel like you should deserve such a divine meal to remove the devil's curse--”

“It’s just a fever...” You would beg, “Go to the local market, please...”

In the end, he would go to the market for your wishes and get the expensive ones. When he arrives at your home, he would start cooking immediately. Surprisingly, he’s actually not bad of a chef! When he serves you his soup, he’ll put on a smirk while he watches you eat. But on the inside, he’s a nervous wreck, not sure if you’ll like it or not. Maybe he should’ve traveled around the world to get you fresh ingredients--

“It’s good!” Praise slips out from your mouth.

His soup is actually good (believe it or not lol)! He would be so happy that you approve of his cooking skills. It boosts his ego.

“Eh? Karamatsu-kun? Are you crying?”

“N-Non, non, my dear! My eyes are just sweating!”

“Sure...”

Choromatsu: He would scold you at first before he properly takes care of you. “Honestly,” He sighs, placing a wet rag on your forehead, “How reckless are you to get sick?” You would explain how you got sick and he’ll just chuckle at your reasoning, “Take care of yourself, next time, okay?” He’ll ruffle your hair and sit next to you, his arms crossed.

He would stay at a distance from you because he doesn’t want to get sick, but wants to make sure that you’re well attended. Choromatsu would occasionally ask if you want anything and would get it immediately. It’s very sweet and expected of him as the most “responsible” in the Matsuno family.

However, his cooking skills are shit. Literally. He can’t cook. He burns the soup. How the hell do you even burn soup?! You would send him to the grocery store to buy some canned soup because you can’t risk having food poisoning instead of having a simple fever. That wouldn’t be good, no sir. When he comes back, he would heat the soup for you and feed it to you if you’re too weak. After that, he’ll make a mental note to practice cooking for you and himself. He didn’t know his cooking skills were that bad.

Ichimatsu: Ichimatsu-sama. Ichimatsu would be worried that you have a fever and would try his best to aid you. He doesn’t know how to properly take care of someone, and every time he tries to remember his knowledge of taking care of someone with a fever, all he can remember is him making his brothers call him, “Ichimatsu-sama.” The thought made him embarrassed if he asked you to call him that. He felt an urge to make you call him that but immediately backed out because that would be embarrassing and would possibly affect the relationship.

So he tried what he can, placing cold rags on your forehead and checking your temperature every so often. He would just cook simple Oyaku (rice porridge) and would feed you if you need it. If you’re a bit better he can make you some Onigiri shaped of your favorite animal to make you smile again, “Here,” He places a plate on your lap, “I made you (favorite animal) Onigiri...” He’d subconsciously smile when he sees your gleaming face when you eat his food.

He won’t be very expressive when taking care of you but would be attentive to you if you need something. Just like Choromatsu, he would stay in the room where you’re resting and even take a nap when you’re sleeping. He’s a sweet caretaker!

Jyushimatsu: He would suggest making duplicates of himself and making himself smaller so he can fight the bacteria in your body, but you’d immediately refuse. He’d put a sleeve to his mouth, “Eh? Why? You won’t be sick anymore!” He would be confused about why you rejected his offer but would get over it quickly. You’d have to give him instructions on how to take care of you. Once you tell him to get some soup from the market, he’ll say, “Hai!” And suddenly come back with a can of soup. You swore you didn’t have any in your cabinet. Did he teleport? Nobody knows...

Once he heats your soup, he’ll come in your room with some medicine and some wet rags, it’s a bit surprising that he knows some things about taking care of an ill person. When you ask, he’ll say, “Ichimatsu-niisan used wet rags when we were sick!” But he won’t make you call him, “Jyushimatsu-sama.” (Probably). He would be a decent caretaker but he would just entertain you more than take care of you. But he’s trying his best, give him some credit.

Todomatsu: He would research how to take care of a person. He would search up, “How to take care of a sick person without making contact.” Todomatsu’s a bitch and he doesn’t want to be in the same room with an ill person because “I’m a neat freak!”

He can’t really stand it but would get you some soup (bought from a local restaurant or grocery store) and leave it out of your room for you to pick it up. He’ll be wearing a mask every time he approaches your room, thinking you’re in quarantine in there. He would stay near your room if you need to call him, but he prefers for you to text him if you have a phone.

If you don’t he’ll just be near your room and request that you make a loud sound or shout for him if you need something. Todomatsu won’t enter your room, so the only time you two talk is by talking through the door. It can be really annoying when he can’t hear you and you’d have to repeat that you said over and over again. He won’t be the best caretaker, but he’s just attentive to your needs. So I guess he’s okay... I think?

#Osomatsu-san #osomatsu san #osomatsu #karamatsu #choromatsu #ichimatsu #jyushimatsu #todomatsu #osomatsu san hc #osomatsu san headcanon

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jpegjade · 4 years

Text

Song prompts: Spencer

Song: Too Far Gone - Sir Sly

Warnings: loneliness and yearning and fluff and talks of mental illness ((barely touching on it tbh but we’ll come back to that in a different episode folks)) also this is long as fuck (oops sorry mom) so be prepared for a long one.

________________

Spencer watched the fan spin in the dark for the past hour, although it didn’t feel like that long. It felt like eternity. Hands folded on his chest, he tried to focus on his breathing for a while. But the more he focused on his breathing, the more he noticed how quiet everything was outside. While he typically enjoyed silence after a long day, there were nights when he couldn’t stand being alone in the silence. There were nights like tonight where all he wanted was for the silence to be filled with another set of lungs expelling air. He wanted anything other than to be alone right now, especially right now.

“Hello?” You said, groggy. It was god knows what time when he called to wake you up. He hated that he woke you up but you always reassured him that he wasn’t a bother. You would rather lose a little sleep and have an excuse to take a nap later than for him to lose sleep and feel alone. You knew what it felt like to be alone and when two people found each other, there was no going back to that place.

“Hey, darling.” He said into the phone. Even half asleep, your heart melted. His voice was so soft, so small. You could immediately tell something was wrong, but it wasn’t a nightmare. This type of softness was reserved for a different conversation. “Can’t sleep?” You said, already flipping off the cover to roll out of bed and get your version of a “go bag,” as Spencer once explained to you. “Yeah...” He said, trailing off. “Be there in a few.” You said, swinging open the door.

You didn’t have time to react when you smacked right into the middle of his chest. “Oof.” He said, instinctively grabbing onto your arms so you didn’t fall over. You looked stunned, and hald asleep, when you came to the relization of what was happening. “You’re here?” You asked, although you didn’t mean to have it sound like a question. It was obvious that he was right there but you didn’t know why. You always went to his place, whether he called you or you called him. It was just how it worked.

“Yeah, I thought I’d come to you for once. I missed your...” He looked around the dark room. “You. I just missed you.” He said, not even bothering to try to be clever. You dropped your bag and grabbed onto him. His rigid shoulders relaxed after he let out a big sigh. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in tighter. You just stood there, enveloped in each other for a moment.

“Let’s go to bed.” You said, begrudgingly letting go of him. He nodded his head and rubbed his eyes with a sweater paw. You pulled your excessively tall friend to the bed, leading him in the darkness, and you both climbed in slowly. He paused for a second, ditching his sweater and handing it to you as he got into bed. Like many nights before, you slipped it on and gor into bed. You didn’t need to lights on to attach to each other like magnets. The two of you had done this so many times, so many horrible nights, that you just new what worked best.

“What’s brought you here tonight, Spence?” You said, listening to his heartbeat. It was faster than it should’ve been. You knew because you knew his resting heartbeat and he was far from resting right now.

“Can I ever be too far gone for you to save me?” He said, his fingers lightly dragging themselves up and down your back, absentmindedly. He was trying to slow his thoughts but they were racing and even in the dark, you knew that he was thinking.

“No.” You said, not missing a beat. There was a quiet pause and you heard his heart speed up a little bit and his breath hitched. He was trying to stay calm. “You know why? Because you don’t give up on anyone. So why would I give up on you? Especially now, when you’re just getting back on your feet. It’s okay to not feel your best or be on top all of the time. You can be elated or catatonic and I will be there, Spencer. Now, you want to tell me what’s going through that head of yours?”

He kissed the top of your head, his hand continuing to lazily make its way up and down your back. You were getting sleepy but you had to fight it. This was important, to both of you.

“The headaches are back...” He said. “I don’t think it’s going to be fixed as easily as before. Between that and the nightmares about...” He inhaled a shakey breath, slowly letting it out. You reached up and wiped away his tears with the sweater that was incredibly too large for you. “But I shouldn’t talk about that right now. God, it’s basically 3 in the morning. You have work in a couple hours... Here, come closer.” He said, feeling your body relax as it grew heavier. His arm was going to be asleep in the morning but as long as you were still there, he could care less.

“You can say whatever is on your mind. I’m here for you, no matter what it is.” You knew that he was right but you also knew he was trying to hide his emotions again.

“They all leave...Or they get taken away from me. I just want stability. I want to know that I can count on someone to be here. I don’t even know if I can count on myself to be here and present when I don’t know if I’m... It’s passed down. And I thought I saw...” Shadow figures. Spencer had mentioned this to you before, causing him to go to the optomitrist.

“Baby. Listen to me. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere but possibly to sleep because damn, you’re comfortable and this sweater is soft.” You chuckled and heard him chuckle lightly. It wasnt forced. You heard the bass in his voice. “Yeah,” he started, “I knew you were going to steal it when I bought it so I really bought it for you and just put my scent on it.” He said, giving you another kiss on the top of your head.

“We’re going to get you figured out, Spence. And for better or worse, your best friend is right here. I’m right here. I will always be right here because you’re my person.” You said, wincing. “You’ve been watching Grey’s Anatomy without me.” He said, knowing. He had his suspicions earlier but you confirmed it.

“Okay, okay!” You heard him laugh a little and you relaxed. “I’ll rewatch with you after work tomorrow. Or today. I’m not sure. But only if you promise me that you’ll trust me to be here. Because I’m not going anywhere. Except to your bed tomorrow because mine is a little small for someone so long and lanky.” You said snuggling up to Spencer one last time.

“I trust you with my life...” He said, trailing off. The room was silent until you heard his soft snores filling the room. You always tried to wait him out when it came to tough conversations because you knew that he would just continue to think while you slept. “Spence, if you can hear me, squeeze my butt.” You whispered to him, just to test it. He didn’t move.

“I love you, Spencer Reid.” You whispered, closing your eyes. You had never said that out loud before but it had a nice ring to it. You would have to tell him when he woke up, if you ever got the courage...

“I love you too.” He said before nodding off to sleep again.

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #spencer reid imagine #oh my god im so lonely

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