#I'm very angry at myself for things that happened
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hiimhdere · 7 months ago
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Ever look at something you wrote/drew/sent in a weird state of haze and think "Jesus fuck man, why did you ever think that was ok?" but you can't really change the past so you just have to live with your actions that torment you until you can't deal with it anymore or are you one of the lucky ones?
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sepiamestus · 10 months ago
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It always rubs me the wrong way when people characterize atsushi as too much of a sweetheart. Like he IS a sweetheart but he's also snarky and sarcastic and most importantly he's very very angry. Do not forget this.
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spaceratprodigy · 10 months ago
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🎉 [ Art from 2022-2023 ] 🎉
Happy Birthday to my most favorite person in the world, the love of my life 🖤
I still can't believe this'll make our 10th year of being best friends and even more I can't believe we get to celebrate our 8th anniversary this summer 💖💕
Commission Info | Ko-Fi | My Links
#I was gonna type out more but I decided I didn't want to be too sappy and emotional on main#so much has happened in these past 10 years#I can't believe I made it this far I really did not think I was going to have a future#but I did and I do#I have the most wonderful partner who I connect with in a way I never thought was possible#I am capable of being loved I am capable of loving in return#I learned how to love myself and be unapologetically myself for myself#I lost a lot of people and some very much for the better#I've become so so much happier my god I never thought I'd ever know what this felt like#I'm still angry and numb and having to battle depression but I've grown I've finally become someone worth being proud of#I'm no longer letting that anger and grief and everything that comes with it take over#I can't believe I've actually become gentler and kinder#I can't believe I've actually made genuine friends with people who are nice and caring and supportive#and are actually happy to see me and not trying to take advantage of me at every opportunity I'm finally seen as a person#I can't believe I'm finally in a safe environment I don't have to be terrified anymore I'm not going to be hurt anymore#I can't believe how far I've come creatively bc of how much bf has supported my every passion wholeheartedly#he is the reason I have a drawing tablet he is the one who encourages me and cheers on everything I do#god I still don't know how I could ever in my life thank you enough for every goddamn wonderful thing you do for me#you have changed everything for the better none of this would have ever happened if it wasn't for you#it's always been you#I fucking love you#more than anything in this universe and the next#forever and always#my art#glad I listened to my first tag lmao
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ourceliumnetwork · 2 months ago
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it's hard to have a good day like, mentally and emotionally but a bad day physically.
it's REALLY hard to do that twice in a row but we're going to try.
#i'm not doing the bit this time sorry#the POTS has been POTSing all over the place and i had to take a shower#so what *wasn't* THAT bad before is now VERY BAD and i'm like...#i'm nauseous i don't want to eat anything i can feel the pain starting so i do need to eat SOMETHING so i can take meds#but the concept of both making AND eating food is daunting and also gross feeling simultaneously#my heart is just constantly pounding and i haven't had any caffeine yet today#so my concerns that it was the monster making my shower reactions worse is absolutely not the case#because i'm fucking sitting here shaking like i just survived a car crash all due to having#*checks notes*#woken up made my bed and taken a shower. that's IT. that is ALL i have done so far#and i am trembling and shaking and weak and nauseous like i'm in shock or something this is BULLSHIT#i think i'm hungry too is the other problme i don't know for sure due ot the aforementioned other factors#so i bet eating would help a lot here#god i hate this so much right now i'm so mad#i had to dream about my family and being ignored and there were WILD swings between feeling horrible and feeling like things were improving#and i wouldn't be shocked if the symptoms i was having in my dream were happening in real time in my actual body too#i hate htis i hate htis i hate this#water salt compression socks WHAT ABOUT WHEN THAT'S NOT ENOUGH HUH? WHAT THEN??? DO I JUST GOTTA LIVE LIKE THIS?????#*fuck* i'm so angry rn. and sad. i think i'm going to let myself cry and see what happens
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i-appear-misssing · 5 months ago
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I just had the horrible thought that I need to fall in love because having devastating crushes on beautiful, competent, authoritative women that I desperately want to please is exhausting and I need it to stop
#this one is straight so there's no room for delusion which is good#but my burning need to be her most favorite is eating me from the inside#it IS making me better at my job though#.......i mean i think so but what the fuck do i know#on friday night amongst the grueling psychosexual chaos that ensued a very smart guy that I LOVE said to me#i have no doubts you're gonna be a great psychiatrist actually#i traded a month with him to have another month with her#he's a phenomenologist she's a psychodynamic....ist? rival theories#I don't like most of psychodynamic theory.......so far#but i love the way she works and i can see how well it fits with her manymanyMANY patients and goddamnit i love personality dosorders#so i made the choice to go with her yes and im very torn casue i LOVE that guy and i wish i could become his friend like my bff from my year#also.......kind of dumb of me since I'd only soend two days a week woth her and the other three with very scary ladies#but I've been in scarier situation i can manage#and god when she praises me (silently obv she's only been forward about my merit ONCE and i almost pissed myself like an overexcited dog)#the endorphin rush is........man#but yes i need to work on this.......idk how to define it. closest i can get to explaining it is professional sub space#with strong aspects of praise kink#pathetic is what it is really#but hey if it makes me study harder who fucking cares right#I'm gonna be the smartest most intuitive fucking bitch amongst my peers so if I can't have her (them) carnally then goddamnit#I'LL HAVE THEIR PRAISE AND RESPECT AND ADMIRATION AT LEAST#........I'll be normal again in a week or two i just need to get over these next couple of days of....idk. inflammation i guess#yeah it's just like an infected wound right now#angry red throbbing hot pain#i know the drill it'll be better in a couple of days you just need to not freak out and let it do its thing#it's nice to be mature-r about emotional impulsivity and the shame that comes after an episode of deregulation#it really doesn't have to be a big deal even while it still feels like it#it still hurts but it's like......hour three of a tattoo. it's a bitch but you know it's gonna be over eventually and wriggling won't work#the only thing left to do is enjoying it all while it's happening or trying to#I don't think I'm doing a great job but what're you gonna do right
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eclarinet · 5 months ago
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same soup... different day
#hello it is sarah in the tags again#i feel like i tell myself i'll actually use this as a blog and then i forget and then i remember and then i forget again#venting ahead if that is not ur jam (talking to the 2 followers who actually see my posts)#i like tumblr because it;s so removed from my personal life that it feels really like a place i dont have to be anything for anyone#anyway i've been wondering if i should go back to therapy again but i feel like they might get tired of me because i keep bailing and comin#back like an addict lol like i swear i'll commit this time! sike. ghost be upon ye#anyway this time i'd come in for the big D#i don't like the floor it just feels closer to being six feet under and a bit like where i belong#i feel like a great number of things have happened in the past year and i've met all of it with a very lukewarm sense of dread and anxiety#its not even about feeling happy i dont even think i can feel shaken by anything. i feel like people see my apathy and think it's confidenc#anyway im not going back. they always say the same thing. can't do shit about shit life syndrome. and i don't want pills i'm so sick of the#isn't it something that i'm especially depressed the day before i start my new job? it's a tradition at this point. cheers#isn't it cruel that everyone in my life seem to put me on some kind of bizarre pedestal and no one questions my decisions or authority and#i battle with myself to figure out if i'm doing the right thing (no one will tell me the truth they are all scared of me getting angry)#was talking with a friend about how it'll be if i join their group project in a module we're taking soon.#and she's like well isn't it obvious? everyone will just listen to whatever you say and we'll end up doing well.#no one would challenge you because you're always right. and it's like.. yeah. i guess. okay. (hate that i know she's not wrong)#lol can u tell this is why house is kind of getting to me. learning lots of things about myself watching that man commit medical malpractic#anyway. i didn't ghost my therapist this time i remember now. she left the clinic lol she asked me to connect on linkedin. that was amusing#i always feel like the therapists here never know what to do with me and i kind of have to hold their hand a bit through my psyche#also they seem to be a bit at awe of me which is a bit annoying. and i know that definitely sounds like Issues but it's just like#ugh not you too. please stop i'm sick of it i'm sick with it. i don't want you to be inspired by my awful life and how i handled it#and i have nothing to say for it but... *gestures vaguely* of all of this
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auntie-histamine · 2 years ago
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just had a phone hearing to explain to the food stamps people that $23 a month in government subsidy is a fucking joke
spent 10 minutes laying out ALL of my medical expenses (which I estimate to come to around $1,700 in 2023) only to be told that NONE of my medical expenses count towards my benefit if I am not officially elderly or disabled
I was actually told "we need to decide if you are disabled" word for word
they said "this hearing does not decide anything, we're going to do an investigatory period," but they ALSO said "if you don't provide documentation from the SSA that you actually are disabled then no medical expenses will be counted"
I'm absolutely livid
$23 a MONTH for groceries
it's a fucking joke
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cubot · 1 month ago
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I am so irritable today it's not funny. Either I am doing the weird migraine tango (before another one? after what happened last night?) or something is up. There is no reason for me to be this unreasonably pissed off.
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forehead451 · 3 months ago
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stream of consciousness type deal.
#people's experiences of you will be so drastically different from what you're like when relaxing/unmasking at home and they'll be shocked#when you live together and you thought you let them see what you were like normally except most of the time theyve seen you at home its an#Occassion™ so ofc im gonna be alert and jumping around and talkative bc theres a lot happening and im really happy theyre there#and i can be still. but once they see me day after day exhausted and overstimulated its different bc i am different#i dont feel like i am but i am#and if they dont believe when you explain whats happening then shit hits the fan#for a while i did not understand why they were getting so mad at me at dinner#the other people there understand how i can be foggy or overstimulated and just need to eat and im happy to be there i just need to not look#at anyone or say much and im dizzy from working all day. i need to mash for a bit all ill be good. theyve been generous to take me as honest#when i tell them what im doing.#but a person who is not used to seeing me that way will start thinking im rolling my eyes at whats being said when im actually staring into#space or trying to refocus or trying to get my body to stay in itself instead of drifting off and they think im quietly judging and ik like#im so sorry but fr im not even listening to the group conversation and im not thinking anything negative about you im just gathering my body#i SWEAR. also its agreed that i take part in a group meal instead of isolating with my food bc i need to eat right now too#now that ive stopped working and im going to go back to working after this meal so. this is what i have to do. it is understood and you're#somewhat new to being here on a daily basis but I'm serious i just have to do this and im not being shady im just Something™#(aka exhausted/overstimulated/neurodivergent.) but when i get up with the gathered dishes without making eye contact im automatically angry#and im judgemental and manipulative and trying to control everyone's mood by making my problems everyone's problems with my sighing and eye#rolling. im like. again im not rolling my eyes im trying to focus my eyes. and im not sighing at whats being said im letting out the breath#i realized ive been holding bc im holding myself back from an anxiety rollercoaster drop bc im very overstimulated rn and i was asked to be#here to share meals and deal with it in front of everyone and you arent understanding that id be doing the same thing in private#nothing's WRONG im just OVERSTIMULATED RN and im pulling my body back and im not thinking anything about ANYONE in this room but im starting#to NOW bc you keep assigning meaning where ive told you repeatedly theres none and i get why you're interpreting it this way but i promise#thats not what im doing and your reasons for why im doing it are not accurate.
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inkskinned · 1 year ago
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what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?
i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?
a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?
in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.
girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.
there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.
for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.
something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.
is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.
most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."
a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.
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klara-rosa · 1 year ago
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anyway therapy was good today! I was very frustrated after last week's session. It was super uncomfortable and I wanted to cry afterwards (I have literally only cried twice during my entire therapy career). I actually told my current therapist that last week sucked and made me angry and we talked about it and she told me she really wants me to tell her this information in the future. And in general, today was a looot better and more positive and uplifting. We did an exercise in gratefulness and it really helped to kinda flip the coin and make you look at your life from a dofferent angle. I have sooo many negative self-beliefs and rituals I've accumulated over the years and sometimes I forget that a huuuge part of every one of my days is literally dependant on my own attitude and outlook on life in general. So I'll try and incorporate that exercise in my day to day life. Honestly, I left with such a lighter heart today than I did the last couple of weeks and that makes me happy 🥺
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incognit0slut · 8 months ago
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Stress Relief
You convince your husband to take out his anger on you when he comes home very tense.
Warnings: (18+ MDNI) dom!spencer, sub!reader, oral (f), reader in handcuffs so light bondage?, choking, unprotected penetrative sex, multiple orgasms, aftercare and domestic bliss because he’s still our beloved spencer
Words: 5k for 5k milestone celebration! TYSM ILY💘💘
A/n: I combined two requests asking for him to get all angry/frustrated because an unsub had a particular thing for winding him up (from anon 1) so he needs some kind of smutty release (from anon 2). You know who you are.
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You could tell something was off. 
A sense of unease settled in the pit of your stomach as the front door creaked open, and instead of the usual lively greeting from your husband, you were met with silence. It was as though he was physically there and yet you could sense his absence in the air. 
"Spence?" You called out, stepping out of the kitchen. When there was no response, you tried again. "Baby, are you okay?"
Your feet guided you down the hallway where you found him standing by the door with his back facing you. Even from behind, you could sense the foul mood he was in. His shoulders seemed more tense than usual, his hair slightly disheveled, and there was an edge to his movements as he closed the door with a loud thud.
"Babe?"
His response was brief, his gaze flickering towards you before quickly darting away, almost as if he were intentionally avoiding your eyes.
"Hey."
"Hey?" you echoed. "That's all I'm getting?"
When his eyes met yours again, you could practically feel the tension radiating from him. It was clear that he was angry, his usual calm demeanor seemed to be replaced by a subtle but palpable edge. There was a tightness in his jaw, a clenched fist by his side, and his usually warm gaze now held a hint of sharpness.
Only one thought crossed your mind whenever he came home like this.
"Bad day at work?"
He slowly nodded.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
He shook his head.
"Do you want a hug?"
He hesitated momentarily, his brows furrowing slightly as if debating whether to accept your offer. Then, without a word, he closed the distance between you. His arms enveloped you, pulling you close as he buried his head in the crook of your neck. Your hand instinctively found its way to his hair, fingers gently running through the soft strands.
"Oh, honey, you're so tense," you noted as your other hand trailed along his shoulder. "Is there anything I can help with? A massage? A nice warm bath maybe?"
You felt him shake his head against you, but you persisted, wanting to offer him comfort in any way you could. When your hand smoothed down his back, his hold on you tightened. When your fingers brushed the nape of his neck, you felt his warm breath caress your skin.
Then it happened—soft lips brushed against the spot under your ear, tentative at first, before growing more urgent. It wasn't the tender, affectionate kisses you were used to, but a different kind of intimacy that felt almost desperate. His lips nibbled and sucked gently at your skin and it became clear to you what he wanted.
"You want another kind of release, baby? Is that what you want?"
His lips momentarily paused against your neck, his arms loosening their grip around you before he rested his hands on your hips. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"Why not?" 
"Because—” he stopped, his grip on your body tightening. “Because I don't feel like myself right now."
You grabbed him by the shoulders, pushing him away just enough to see his face. "What makes you say that?"
Spencer held your gaze. How could he explain to you that he was on the verge of acting out his frustration? That he was so close to losing control? 
He knew how difficult he could be when anger took hold of him. In his younger days, he wouldn't hesitate to fire off sassy remarks and snarky comments, letting his emotions dictate his behavior. However, as he matured, he learned better to hide those emotions behind a composed facade.
But tonight felt different. Despite his best attempts to maintain his control, he could feel his anger slipping away, and it was unfair to burden you with it. Especially when you were offering yourself to him, so sweet and so pretty, when he knew love wasn't exactly what he could offer you right now. 
So he decided to release you, his grip loosening as he stepped back.
"Forget it," he muttered under his breath before turning towards your shared bedroom. Your brow furrowed as he walked away, leaving you standing there with your mouth slightly agape, bewildered by his sudden withdrawal.
"Spencer Reid," you called after him, your voice laced with a hint of irritation as you followed him. "I wasn't done talking to you."
He paused, his hand halfway to his tie before he loosened it with a sharp tug. You leaned against the bedroom doorway, crossing your arms as you continued to study him. His lack of response only fueled your growing annoyance, but you knew better than to escalate the situation into a fight.
Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you spoke up, your voice steady but tinged with frustration. "Honey, I can't help you if you're acting this way."
"What makes you think I need help?"
"The way you're wrestling with your tie gives it away," you replied, your words laced with a hint of sarcasm.
He shot you a pointed look, clearly unimpressed by your remark. "I don't need your help."
Your frown deepened. "Seriously? You're just going to shut me out like this?"
"I'm not shutting you out," he countered, moving around the room. "I just need some space."
"Well you're doing a pretty damn good job of it," you shot back, your patience wearing thin as you pushed yourself off the doorway. His jaw clenched, but he remained silent, his actions focused on undoing the button on his wrist now. You scoffed at his lack of response again.
"Oh, so now you're giving me the silent treatment?" When it seemed evident he was trying to ignore you, you pressed on. "Fine, keep your silence, let me do the talking."
His eyes flickered momentarily at you before he turned around, undoing the button of his shirt. You watched him quietly as he continued to avoid your gaze. 
"Spencer," you began, your voice softer now. "I know your job can be hard, and I know you're going through a lot right now, but shutting me out won't make it any easier."
“I've already told you, I'm not trying to shut you out."
"Then what are you doing?" you pressed. "I tried offering you help when you didn't want to talk about it. And the one thing I can help you with, the one thing I'm sure will help you relax, you refused." 
You let out a frustrated sigh, hating how much your voice wavered now.
"Spence... you—you didn't even want to have sex with me."
His shoulders stiffened at your words, finally turning to face you. "You think I don't want to have sex with you?"
You swallowed hard, feeling a knot form in your throat. "I don't know what to think anymore," you admitted. "You're giving me the cold shoulder, it’s hard not to take it personally."
The room seemed to close in around you, suffocating in its silence. Then, you watched as he began to walk towards you. One step. Two steps. Until his presence loomed over you, casting a shadow that suddenly made you feel small and vulnerable.
"I'm refusing to have sex with you right now not because I don't want to," he said, his voice dangerously low. "I'm refusing because I'm trying to protect you."
You frowned, confusion furrowing your brow. "Protect me from what?"
There was a moment of silence before he replied, “From myself."
You felt a knot tightening in your stomach, goosebumps forming on your skin as you struggled to comprehend what he was trying to say.
“I… I don't understand."
"I don't want to risk it. I'm afraid that if we... if we cross that line, I might hurt you."
"Spencer," you whispered in disbelief, as if his words were the most absurd thing you'd ever heard. "You would never hurt me."
He shook his head. "You wouldn't be so sure if you knew half of the thought in my head right now."
You faltered for a moment, taken aback by his words. Then your gaze involuntarily flickered down his body, tracing the lines of his open shirt and the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Your breath caught in your throat as your gaze moved lower, taking in the way his pants hung low on his hips, and the trail of soft hair leading downwards.
You swallowed hard.
"Tell me then," you challenged, your voice trembling slightly as you met his gaze again. "Tell me how you'd hurt me."
He studied you, assessing, calculating. "You won't like it," he warned.
"And what if I do?"
His eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of surprise flashing across his features. "You don't know what you're asking for."
"I know what I want."
He regarded you for a long moment, weighing your words carefully. Finally, he stepped closer, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, "You really want to know what I'd like to do to you?"
You held his gaze. "Yes," you replied. "Tell me."
His lips curved into a faint, almost rueful smile. With a slow, deliberate movement, he reached out and traced a finger along the curve of your jaw. "I want to use you," he murmured. "I want to feel you, to taste you. I want to make you scream."
You could feel the heat traveling through your body, a heady mixture of desire and anticipation flooding your senses. You reached out, fingers trembling as they brushed against his chest, feeling the heat radiating from his skin.
"I want to control you," he continued, his gaze darkening. "I want to tie you up leave you bruises, mark your skin. I want you helpless, begging for mercy."
He tilted your chin up, his eyes locking with yours.
"I want to see how far you'll go for me."
Your breath caught in your throat as you drank in his words, and you couldn't deny the heat spreading between your legs. "And what if I want that too?"
A tense silence settled between you. Then slowly, almost as if testing the waters, he wrapped his fingers around your throat, simply holding you there. "You don't mean that."
"Try me," you dared, holding his gaze. "Put your hand between my thighs and see just how much I mean it."
His grip around your throat tightened ever so slightly while his other hand hovered at the waistband of your cotton pants. You felt a jolt of anticipation as he slipped his hand inside, your breath hitching as the pad of his calloused fingers dipped inside your panties.
A soft hum of approval escaped his lips when the slickness of your arousal coated his skin.
"Would you look at that? Barely even touched you and you're already this wet?" A low gasp fell between your lips as he found your clit. "You really want this, don't you?"
You could only manage a whimper in response, your breath coming in ragged gasps. 
"Tell me," he insisted, his breath hot against your skin. "Do you want me to stop?"
Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to find your voice. "No," you finally managed to gasp.
With deliberate slowness, he trailed his fingertips lower, teasingly circling your entrance. He started with gentle strokes, keeping his fingers only on the outer side as you tried to bite back a moan that threatened to slip out.
“You dirty girl,” he muttered, and you feel yourself getting wetter as his finger continued to touch you teasingly. Then slowly, the grip on your throat loosened before his hand moved to cup your cheek.
“I need you to be sure," he whispered, "Because once we cross that line, there's no going back."
Your eyelids dropped lower as you chewed on your bottom lip, feeling the weight of his desire hanging in the air. It was a heady mix of uncertainty and anticipation, but one thing was clear—you wanted him.
You wanted him to use your body.
“Use me however you like,” you confessed. "I-I’m all yours.”
His lips were on yours in an instant. There was no mercy in his kiss, only raw desire and urgency. He kissed you as if he needed to breathe in your air, his lips moving desperately against yours, his tongue seeking entrance to taste you.
His hand then left your pants to cradle your face, holding you gently yet firmly as he explored every inch of your mouth, leaving you breathless and wanting more. Finally, he pulled away, his chest rising and falling heavily as he caught his breath. 
He looked down at you, his gaze intense, and saw the dazed expression in your eyes. Your touch, taste, and scent clouded his vision as you trembled in his arms, the soft sounds of your labored breath sang in his ears.
Mine, mine, mine.
"Now listen to me," he said, his voice low and commanding. "I'm going to leave you for a while, and when I come back, I expect to see you lying on the bed naked with your legs spread apart."
You swallowed hard, eyes slightly going wide. You felt his hand gripping your jaw.
"Do I make myself clear?"
You quickly nodded. "Y-Yes."
His grip tightened momentarily before he released you, his gaze piercing as he held your eyes for a moment longer. Then, without another word, he turned and left the room. 
With trembling hands, you began to undress, each piece of clothing dropping to the floor until you stood bare before the bed. The cool air prickled against your skin as you slowly climbed onto the bed.
You brought your feet onto the bed before spreading your knees apart. It felt weird, you had never felt so exposed and vulnerable, yet you couldn't deny the arousal pooling between your thighs. And then you heard him, his footsteps gradually coming closer and your heart pounded in your chest as you gripped onto the bed sheets.
His tall frame filled the doorway as he took in the sight before him, his eyes lingering between your legs. He watched your chest rise and fall, watched the way your legs fell apart even more as if you were offering yourself to him. Without a word, he approached the bed and stripped off his shirt. 
Before you could catch your breath, he stood over the bed beside you. "Put your arms above your head."
You hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of his gaze, but then slowly, almost instinctively, you complied, raising your arms above your head as instructed. You watched as he reached behind his back, and your heart raced as you glimpsed the glint of metal in his hand.
He didn't say a word as he reached for your wrists, securing them above your head with the cold metal of the handcuff, restraining you to the bed. The click of the cuffs echoed in the room before he stepped back, his eyes fixed on you with a predatory gleam as if he was admiring his handiwork.
Your pulse quickened as you lay there, exposed and at his mercy and you couldn't help but squirm under his gaze. He moved closer, his fingers trailing lightly along your skin, and you shivered, both from the chill of the metal and the warmth of his touch.
"You look so pretty like this," he murmured. "So helpless, yet so willing."
Your eyes followed his movement as his fingers moved to unbutton his pants. Then he was completely naked, and even though you had seen him like this countless times, the sight of his cock never failed to make your cunt clench in anticipation. He was thick and hard, with veins pulsing along its length and droplets of wetness glistening at the tip.
The bed sank under his weight as he positioned himself between your legs. You gasped when he leaned forward, the underside of his cock teasingly brushing against your wet folds as his lips met your collarbone. You bit down on your bottom lip as he kissed lower, stopping at your left breast, where he suckled on the supple skin just above your nipple.
His mouth latched onto your skin after taking a moment to try and keep himself from rushing into things. But he was a simple man. His lips worked precisely and diligently, and you watched as he left marks on your breasts, his teeth gently sinking into your flesh here and there, his warm saliva coating the faint markings.
The kisses left on your sensitive skin resulted in you whining for more. Spencer felt a rush of satisfaction like no other, his touches growing more urgent with each sound that escaped your lips. His tongue glided over your plump breasts, teasing and tantalizing, until finally, his mouth enveloped your nipple.
You squealed, squirming underneath him, and he smiled against your skin, his lips forming a knowing smirk as he continued to suck while his thumb flicked the nipple he wasn't focusing on. There was no doubt you would be left with bruises tomorrow morning.
Your eyes drifted downward just as he looked up, his gaze meeting yours, and you couldn't help but whine when the tip of his tongue circled your nipple teasingly. You reached out, craving the sensation of your fingers in his hair, only to feel the metal of the handcuffs digging into your skin.
"It's torture, isn't it? Not being able to do anything," he taunted with a laugh, shifting his attention to your other nipple. "But I guess that's the fun part.”
You whimpered as he softly bit your sensitive bud, and your back arched off the bed in response. He leaned back, admiring the marks he'd left on your skin.
"God, look at you," he murmured as his gaze lingered on your flushed skin, the swell of your breasts rising and falling with each breath. "I could do this all night."
Slowly, he lowered himself back down, his lips tracing a path from your chest down to your stomach. You squirmed, anticipation coiling tightly in your belly as his warm breath ghosted lower. His hair tickled your legs, and he took the opportunity to turn his head slightly to the side, immediately pressing a hot open-mouthed kiss against your inner thigh. 
You gasped as he sucked your skin into his mouth, teeth grazing over the flesh as if he was intent on marking every inch of your body. His lips continued to trail along your thighs but never quite reaching the place you craved him the most.
For someone with pent-up emotions, his movements were agonizingly slow. It was frustrating, the way he toyed with you, drawing out the anticipation until you couldn't bear it any longer.
"Please," you whimpered, the chains rattling softly against the headboard as you continued to squirm beneath him.
He paused, his hot breath fanning over your skin as he looked up at you. "Please what?" 
"Pl-Please touch me."
He kissed over your mound as he hooked an arm under your leg. His other hand reached for the heat radiating between your thighs before two of his fingers brushed along your outer lips, dragging your arousal along your skin. "Like this?"
You groaned as he kept on teasing you, stroking you with featherlight touches. “More," you pleaded desperately, almost pathetically. "Please."
His fingers stretched your folds, his gaze fixed on the glistening wetness, on the way your cunt clenched around nothing. "You're so pretty, you know that?"
"Spence..." you breathed out, feeling his breath achingly close to your heat.
He didn't respond with words. Instead, he lowered his head, his breath hot against your flesh. The minute his tongue touched you, you were already a writhing, whimpering mess. Your head began spinning, nerves and pleasure swooping into one big fuzzy mess in your mind as his tongue teased up and down your slit. 
"Oh my god," you whined the moment his mouth circled your clit before sucking on it, sending waves of pleasure along your body. And then, just as you thought you couldn't take it anymore, you felt his finger at your entrance, and without warning, he pushed in his digit, sending your head tilting back with a desperate gasp falling from your lips.
His groan reverberated against your skin as your walls clenched around him. He pushed his finger deeper, curling it inside of you as his tongue lapped at your dripping folds. With each movement, he pressed his face even further into you, relishing the sensation of your wetness coating his jaw.
Your eyes drifted downwards at the same time he looked up, locking gazes with him, and you let out the most filthy cry of pleasure. He held your gaze as his tongue quickened its pace, sucking your clit even harder as he added another finger inside you. 
Your mouth gaped open as you felt the delicious stretch, and you couldn't help but buck your hips towards his face. Spencer always had a fixation on pleasuring you, but not like this—it was never like this. He seemed desperate, almost possessive, as if he couldn't get enough of your taste.
He continued his relentless assault, his fingers pumping inside you with a steady rhythm while his tongue worked tirelessly on your swollen clit. The squelching sound of his fingers thrusting in and out of your dripping walla was so lewd that it made his cock stir against the bed.
You could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you, the heat spreading like wildfire through your veins. Before you knew it, your climax hit you hard, without warning, without mercy, and you were gasping his name over and over.
You shivered and trembled beneath him, tossing your head back even farther, squeezing your walls around his fingers and your legs around his head.  But he didn't stop or even slow down. Instead, he pulled his fingers out of you, only to push your thighs apart even when your legs were shaking uncontrollably.
"Stop moving," he ordered as he leaned in, tasting you all over again. He didn't care that you were a complete mess, that you were still reeling in from your climax, that you were trying to move back away from him. All he cared about was giving you the best pleasure imaginable, and he was intent on seeing it through.
"Spence—” you gasped when his nose brushed your clit. “I-I can't—"
He gently held your fragile body in place to prevent you from running away from his mouth. "Hold still and give me another one." 
How could you not relent when he treated you like this, so considerate yet so rough? You groaned, your eyes meeting the ceiling as you felt his mouth continue its relentless assault on your cunt. The sensation was overwhelming, yet despite your protests, you couldn't deny the building pressure.
Your muscles tensed. Your breathing hitched. You gasped for air. And just as the waves of pleasure threatened to consume you once more, you surrendered, letting out a pathetic cry as your body convulsed with the force of your climax.
His tongue lingered over your sensitive skin, savoring the taste of your release, before he finally withdrew, allowing you a moment to catch your breath. He then lifted his head, your juices glistening on his lips as he watched your heaving chest.
Spencer had never been so thankful for his eidetic memory. He took in the sight of your hands, bound above your head, the rise and fall of your chest as you panted, the tousled strands of hair framing your face. His gaze lingered on the way your legs willingly parted for him, your skin flushed and pussy swollen, all because of him.
It was a sight he wanted to etch into his memory forever.
You bit your bottom lip as his gaze lingered on you, feeling your body flush under his scrutiny. Then, as if something within him shifted, he reached for you, urging your body to turn until you were facing sideways, the chains rattling softly as you moved.
He settled behind you, and your heart quickened as you felt him grab your leg, lifting it in the air. With one hand gripping your thigh firmly, he positioned himself between your legs, his hard cock pressing against your slick folds. 
You could feel the warmth of his body pressed against your back, his breath ghosting over your neck as he leaned in closer. With a deep, guttural moan, he eased himself into you, every inch of him sliding effortlessly into your wetness. You couldn't help but arch your back in response to the sensation of being filled so completely.
"Fuck," he murmured, the curse slipping past his lips in a breathy whisper. It sounded foreign coming from him and yet it only encouraged you more. You pushed your hips back into him, meeting his slow, deliberate thrusts.
"Needed this so much," he confessed, his breath coming out in ragged pants against the nape of your neck. "You have no idea how much I've wanted you like this for so long."
Your head fell back onto his chest, completely enveloped in him—the scent of his skin, the warmth of his touch, the rhythmic movement of his cock thrusting inside you.
"Thought it was wrong of me to take control of you," he muttered, his breath hot against your ear. "But you're enjoying this as much, aren't you?"
You whimpered, unable to form words as the pleasure consumed you and you felt him picking up his pace. The room was filled with lewd noises of your wetness along with the sound of skin slapping against skin.
"You like being helpless like this? You like it when I fuck you while being cuffed to the bed?"
Your breath hitched at his words. His hand left your thigh, but only momentarily. The crack of sound pierced the air, followed by a surge of sensation coursing up your leg. The realization hit you like a bolt of lightning—he spanked you. 
And you liked it.
"Answer. Me," he demanded, each word punctuated by the rhythm of his thrusts.
"Yes," you managed to gasp out. "I-I love being helpless."
He let out a sound of pleasure as he released your thigh, only to tease your clit with his fingers. You gasped, your head thrown back as he applied just the right amount of pressure, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You felt the intensity building, the familiar coil tightening in your stomach as he continued to pump into you, his fingers moving fast against your clit.
You tried to speak and warn him about your upcoming orgasm but you couldn't even think properly. The squelch of his cock driving into you roughly rang in your ears and with a sharp inhale, you felt the tension within you reach its peak. Your muscles tensed, your breath caught in your throat, and then, with an explosive release, you cried out his name.
He groaned as he felt you pulsating around him, your walls gripping him tightly. He continued to move within you, riding out your orgasm as his thrusts grew harder, more urgent until he couldn't hold back any longer.
"I need to see you," he breathed as he pulled out of you. Then he flipped you onto your back, guiding one of your legs over his shoulder as he settled between your thighs once more. The change in position brought you closer, the heat of your bodies mingling as you met his gaze.
Without a word, he pushed himself back into you, the slick heat of your cunt enveloping him. You watched him through half-lidded eyes, feeling your body growing sticky, every inch of you glistening with sweat, but his gaze remained fixated on you, unwavering and intense.
"So pretty," he murmured, his hand finding your face and cupping your cheek, absorbing your features in the dim lighting of the room. "My beautiful wife."
You whimpered as he dragged his hand down your skin, thumb brushing over your lips as he felt your hot breath on his fingertip. He watched your eyes switch between widening and fluttering half shut while he began pumping into you.
Spencer couldn't keep his eyes off of you as you took his cock eagerly, your breasts bouncing each time he thrust forward, your mouth hanging open with your tongue slipping out of your mouth. A whine followed through as his hand moved down to your neck, practically holding you in place as his hips collided against your own.
He gave a slight pressure around your throat, and your head began to loll against the mattress, chin pointed in the air in pleasure. The squeezing sensation was now beginning to take over your body, spreading from across your cheeks, to your ears, and up to your eyes, tears pooling right at the corner. The feeling even reached your stomach, tightening and coiling with the signal of your impending orgasm.
Was this your fourth orgasm? Your fifth? You couldn't keep track; all you knew was the overwhelming sensation prickling your skin. The bed below you felt as if it was on fire. The metal digging around your wrist burned with absolute pleasure.
His thrusts grew more intense, each movement raw and unrestrained, as if he was pouring all his pent-up emotions into you. He seemed to lose himself in the moment, his grip on your neck firm but not painful, but it was enough to make you gasp, your body trembling with pleasure, eyes rolling at the back of your head.
You were instantly gone.
A filthy cry fell between your lips as another orgasm crashed over you, more intense than the last. At some point you were gasping for air, feeling your body going limp but he didn’t stop. His hips had a mind of their own. You could feel them beginning to move like they were possessed, with no regard for your pleasure, and in a way, no regard for his. 
“Oh god—fuck!” You cried, arching your back as much in this position.
He groaned and leaned in, his arms pressing against the bed on either side of you as he pushed your leg up to your shoulder. He tried to kiss you, but the force of his movements made it hard. Instead, his lips hovered just above yours, both of you breathing heavily and moaning into each other's mouths.
Eyelids drooped a bit too low as your mouth went completely ajar, exhaling weakly. It didn’t take long for another wave of pleasure to rush through your body. You convulsed beneath him, thighs quivering violently as you tried to angle your body away from him, the pleasure almost unbearable now.
Through the haze of your orgasm, you caught a glimpse of him throwing back his head with his eyes screwed shut. Then he finally groaned—his movements slowing, breath sputtering from his lungs as he exploded, pumping once, twice, three times all before coming to a halt, cock twitching inside you.
You watched the sweat bead down his forehead as you both worked silently to relax your bodies, pulses pounding in ruthless rhythm. With a deep, contented sigh he finally slid himself out of you before going through his discarded pants on the floor. 
After a moment, he returned to you and unlocked the handcuff from your wrist, the sound of the lock clicking echoing in the room. The chains fell onto the bed with a soft thud as he gently took hold of your hands.
“Are you okay?"
You nodded, offering him a reassuring smile. "I'm okay."
He pressed a tender kiss to both of your wrists, his lips lingering over your pulse for a moment. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked anxiously, his eyes raking over your body. "Was I too rough? Did I—""
"Spencer, relax," you whispered, you took his hand in yours. "I'm good. I promise."
"You sure?" he asked, his face still tight with concern.
"Yes, more than good. Just come cuddle with me?"
He hesitated, his eyes scanning over your body for a few seconds longer. After he seemed satisfied you really were okay, he lowered onto the bed beside you and you drew his head to your chest. Your fingers gently played with his hair, watching as he slowly relaxed into you, throwing one of his arms across your stomach. 
"Thank you," he whispered. "I... I think I needed that."
Your attention shifted to his face, happy to see his expression finally somewhat peaceful as he lay just above your breasts. His eyes were closed, the tension you'd noticed on his face when he'd arrived entirely gone now.
Gently running your fingers through his hair, you whispered, "Of course, baby. Anytime you need me, I'm here."
His lips curved into a small, contented smile as he nestled closer to you. "I love you."
A surge of warmth filled your chest at his words. "I love you too," you whispered back. "But are you okay? Do you want to talk about what happened at work?"
You felt him shift as he shook his head. "Maybe later. I just want to hold you right now."
You gently kissed the crown of his head before pulling him closer. Spencer sighed happily as he snuggled closer to you, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against your chest. He then reached over your breasts, his thumb trailing over the marks he had left on your skin. 
"I didn't realize you enjoyed that so much."
You shrugged the shoulder beside his head. "It's hard not to. I mean, I think I've always liked it when you're in control, and that doesn't only apply to sex."
He leaned back to look at you. "Really?"
You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "Yeah. Remember the first time we started dating and someone broke into my apartment?"
"How could I forget?" he replied, a frown tugging at his brows as he recalled the memory. “That was one of the scariest moments in my life.”
"Right. You thought some serial killer was targeting me when it was just a random robbery. But the way you handled the situation..." you continued, your voice softening. "When you took charge and made sure I was safe, I realized how much I trusted you. And I remember thinking, 'Damn, my boyfriend's pretty cool.'"
His frown melted away, replaced by a warm smile at your words. "You thought I was cool?" 
You chuckled, nodding as you met his gaze. "You're cool, smart, and hot at the same time," you teased. "What I'm trying to say is, I like it when you're in control because I like to depend on you. You make me feel safe and cared for."
His expression softened even further, a tender warmth filling his eyes. "I like it when you depend on me too," he confessed softly. With a gentle tug, he sat up, bringing you along. "Come on then, let me care for you now."
You looked up at him. "Yeah? What do you have in mind?"
"I think we both need that nice warm bath."
You smiled, already feeling the tension in your muscles ease at the thought of a soothing bath with him. "Will you wash my hair too?"
He pushed a strand of hair off your face, his heart swelling with affection at the look in your eyes. How could he resist when you looked at him like he hung up the moon for you? 
"Of course," he replied without hesitation. "I'll do whatever you want me to do."
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soshinysochrome · 3 months ago
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Pre-cut fruit/veggies as an accommodation
I'm going to go on a rant that's been building up for a long time but needs to be said.
I just watched a video from How To ADHD where they finally articulated what I've been trying to explain to people for a long time; that buying pre-cut fruit and veggies is an accommodation.
Because holy shit, do people get angry at people who buy things pre-cut, like it's some kind of moral failing deserving of the vitriol and abuse that it gets. And it always comes complete with people smugly declaring that they take the time to cut their fruit and veg themselves, like somehow that makes them better than people who don't.
Lets get something absolutely clear.
Yes, we know it would be cheaper to buy produce and cut it up ourselves. Yes, we know that the added packaging is more wasteful. And we know that other people are judging us for it.
But here's the thing, starting with the fact that "taking the easy way" is not a moral failing:
Pre-cut produce is an accommodation.
I have ADHD, depression and seasonal affective disorder (seasonal depression). One of these by themselves makes taking care of myself difficult enough, but very rarely am I battling just one of these conditions at a time. And when it comes to cooking or preparing food, my options are very often either to spend a bit more to buy pre-cut fruit or veg, or not eat fruit/veg at all. Because if I buy produce I have to prep myself, at least one of three things will happen: 1) I'm going to forget it exists until it starts to make the fridge stink and it has to be thrown away. 2) I'm going to see it every time I open the fridge, feel bad that I can't bring myself to prepare it, worsening my executive dysfunction and depression, and making it even less likely I ever will prepare it. 3) I'm going to buy it, put it in my fridge, remember that it's there and beat myself up until it expires for being unable to bring myself to prepare it.
When people rail against those who buy pre-cut, what those of us who rely on it hear is that you don't think we deserve to eat healthily because we can't do it ourselves. Which sounds about as absurd as telling someone with glasses that they don't deserve to wear those glasses because they can't see without them.
Rant over. Leave people who buy pre-cut alone.
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xxxpu55yslay3rxxx · 1 year ago
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So in other words, tumblr architecture enforces this shit lmao. This just verifies my crackpot theory that Tumblr rots your brain unless you are self aware about it.
Also I'd like to add, tumblr's commenting system sucks! Character limit that they don't tell you about, every single time you want to reply to anybody you have to tag them, making that shit look messy. Also for the fact that it just shows comments out of order sometimes. If ordered by latest first, you'll see recent comments on top sometimes even if you shouldn't.
Fuck it, let me be unhinged on the last line:
Tumblr ontologically fucking sucks!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Google+ was better!!!!!!!!!! the less this site acts like tumblr and more like good social media, the better!!!!!!!!
i think tumblr structurally encourages pissing on the poor
epistemic confidence: medium. (i always wanted to say that). this is amateur sociology and so should be taken with quite a bit of salt. this is absolutely a just-so story.
i think part of the reason tumblr and other similar social media websites have such a problem with misinterpretation is that conversational repair works differently than other forms of communication.
if you're talking in a group of people (over voice or over 'synchronous' communications like irc/discord that encourage short messages and paying attention) and someone responds in a way that indicates they misinterpreted you, you can interrupt them. and importantly, everyone else in the conversation hears you interrupting them. on a traditional forum with linear posts, you can't interrupt them, but anyone that reads all the posts (which, granted, isn't everyone) will eventually see your clarifying reply.
but on tumblr, if you make a post, X reblogs it with a misinterpretation, and you reply/reblog correcting X's interpretation, you have no way of notifying everyone that saw it from X; people generally don't go back and reread the notes on old posts, unlike forums where you'd typically read the threads you participate in. so the misinterpretation spreads.
and of course there's the whole 'screenshot this post to make fun of it' thing (which i'm not immune to, although i'm trying to do it less). it's obvious that screenshotting part of a post makes it even easier to misinterpret it, and i suspect that at this point for some people the mere presence of the "underwater" filter is enough to prime a "this is a bad opinion, i should disagree with it" reflex! and you can't go "hang on, that's not what i meant".
anyway. don't take this as like an iron law of social media or a thing that is definitely 100% true. but it's something i've been thinking about.
#nothing much to add but my venting senses saying I should. I'm holding it back for you OP‚ but am gonna do it in tags :3. Sovwy in advance#Fuck tumblr lmao. I genuinely feel like it's reblog structure is like a prison. The reasons are listed already in OP but gonna add more#Because tumblr reblogs 'add' to the post instead of being 'quote' in other social medias‚ it pushes agreement over contrarianism usually#That means the original idea/sentiment of a post get's boosted without it's ideas being challenged. That is bad epistemology#Nobody wants to be hit with the 'sorry my follower added that to your post' cake for even slight disagreements so better just parrot things#or they don't wanna get soft dogpiled by rando tumblr users so disagreements become minimal. It's why I think circlejerks happen much here#& let me tell you‚ that shit makes me MALD. People so smug here over “no algorithms 🥰” but really it's just that they socially enforce ...#... ideas through 'Tumblr culture' rather than the need for algorithms. Feels like a naturally enforced Hive mind at times 😡😡#Last thing: so other soc meds posting works like a nested function (quotes) while tumblr's reblogs function like a 'newline' script#and if you add to that script and people don't like it‚ they think you're ruining the script. So your part of the project gets cut/ignored#rant done 👍#Actually fuck it still angry that someone came up with this post before me#I've been making meta posts for months now and I was planning to make that great meta posts that discusses how the architecture affects...#... behavior here. Mad because I consider myself a tumblr outsider and I feel like the perfect person to make it‚ not a tumblr regular 😡#I realise this makes me look so unhinged 😔😔😔 but I don't care. Rant officially done 👍👍#OP Please don't block me for this‚ I am agreeing with you here mostly. I just tend to be very weird/passionate about this topic
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acewithapaintbrush · 2 months ago
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Saw @artsymeeshee hospital sketches of the sea grunks and thought to myself, is this finally my time to write some brotherly angst for these two? The answer is yes. Short but sweet, please enjoy.
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The first thing Stan becomes aware of is the noise.
A constant beeping right next to his ear. Loud and high-pitched and repetitive and unfortunately very familiar to an old grifter with bad luck like him. He would be a lot more annoyed with this sound if his last clear memory wasn't of roaring waters rushing past his ears, stealing his hearing and leaving nothing but white noise behind.
He'd rather take the beeping.
Next comes taste, which, ugh! He could have gone without that! The feel of scratchy sheets is not much better but it tells him that he is in one of the better hospitals. Believe it or not, the better the hospital, the scratchier the sheets. Ford should cool it with the mystical beasts and research what's up with that!
Speaking of Ford.
Stan keeps his breathing even as he slowly opens his eyes. The light has been dimmed in anticipation and he blinks a couple times at a ceiling that is painted a nondescript beige color. He looks at it for a moment and for some strange reason he suddenly feels a fierce urge to video call Mabel.
But first things first.
Stan slowly turns his head to the side which actually hurts. Don't they have him on the good stuff?
Just as he expected, there is his brother. Ford has squeezed himself into the same bed as Stan, facing his brother's prone form. Stan can't help but smile. His brother must have bullied the nurses into letting him stay. The bed is way too small for two grown men but somehow the genius has managed to practically fold himself into a compact ball, leaving enough room for all those fancy machines connected to the patient. One of his hands lightly rests against Stan's chest which he hasn't even noticed until now.
Ford's eyes are closed but he is mumbling under his breath, reciting one of his journal entries from memory.
Stan winces. His brother must be really rattled by this little mishap.
‘Great job giving the guy another thing to worry about, Stanley!’
“I think climbing into the hospital bed with the patient is against the rules, Sixer? You are not supposed to do that.”
He was going for levity and humor but his hoarse voice kinda ruins that.
Ford's eyes don't snap open. He doesn't gasp or jerk upright or anything like that. Instead he takes a shuddering breath and deliberately opens his eyes. They find Stanley immediately and there is not a hint of surprise in them. Stan wonders how long Ford has known that he's awake.
“Same to you,” Ford says and his voice is so flat it causes a shiver to run down Stan's spine.
“Hey, s’not like I planned for this to happen.”
“I would be very cross with you if you had planned falling overboard, Stanley.”
Ford's emotions still feel weirdly flat. He isn't even lecturing and scolding Stan for his reckless behavior, just presses his six-fingered hand against his chest and stares at him with those blank eyes.
“I'm alright.” Stan shifts so he can face his brother and, damn, those ribs are definitely cracked. He briefly wonders if that happened in the fall or whether someone had to do CPR on him and quickly decides that maybe he doesn't want to know. Close call. Much too close. “I'm alright, Ford,” he repeats as if that makes it true.
For the first time an emotion flickers through Ford's face. He narrows his eyes and for a moment Stan thinks he's angry but then a single tear runs down an unshaven cheek, immediately seeping into the pillow.
“I thought I lost you for good,” Ford whispers, voice tortured. “I couldn't find you. For the longest time. I looked and I looked and you were just… gone. I couldn't find you!”
‘Same to you,’ Stan echoes with a bit of a bitter edge, mind replaying thirty years of hunching down in a dusty basement in a matter of seconds.
But this is not about him and Stan is, no matter what some might want to tell you, not an insensitive asshole.
“You did find me,” he says. He doesn't actually know if that's true. The time after he fell into the ocean during that storm is still a bit of a mystery to him. All he remembers is the noise of the water and how cold he felt and a voice screaming his name, over and over, growing fainter with each wave crashing over his head.
But Ford needs some reassurance right now. And the best way to reassure Ford that Stan is alright is by proving his alrightness with a good, old Pines hug.
He lightly pulls at the hand on his chest and with a cut off gasp Ford immediately obliges, scooting closer until they are entwined with one another just like they were as kids when the nightmares became too much to remain separated by a bunk bed.
“You found me.” Stan repeats and ignores the tears soaking into his hospital gown.
‘That's what we do,’ he thinks with a content smile, eyes falling shut with exhaustion. ‘We always find each other again.’
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warmilikeit · 3 months ago
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Yandere Batfam x Camp half-blood (Neglected reader)
Dc x Pjo
Part 5
________________________
Diana is seething, she's filled with rage, the lies Bruce fed her?
"I'm very worried for their wellbeing..."
"I miss them very much"
"they're so young, I don't want anything bad to happen to them"
Asshole.
She kicked the door of the justice hall down, startling the kids who had gone back on patrol from trying to find (Name)
"hey what gives?" Flash asks
Superman raised his eyebrow "you left so suddenly, mind telling us where you've been?"
She looks at batman's sidekicks and then at him, while staring him straight in the eyes "the kid is dead" she says
"what?"
A silence washing over the entire room
"the lady who attacked your house, that wasn't an ordinary lady, in the eyes of mortals she may look normal, but in the eyes of divine beings... It's a monster, that monster was an empousa, a poisonous fire breathing monster who feeds on the blood of mortals and divine beings alike" Diana thinks about how she'll explain everything to J'onn later, but figure that he's probably reading her mind right now
Her suspicions are confirmed as J'onn nods at her
"your kid, (Name), they're a demigod, because of that they're a target for monsters, they're gone, eaten, sorry Bruce"
Crap Diana thinks, was she too harsh? She was just too angry
Ignoring the fact Diana just announced Bruce slept with a god, Superman placed his hand on Batman's shoulder "My condolences Bruce"
Everyone was giving their apologies to the bats
She didn't look at the widened eyes of batman's sidekicks, she noticed but chose to ignore the sound of Dick collapsing into a chair, she heard didn't pay attention to the footsteps of Damian who had to run out of the room
Cass stiffened up, she trembled as if resembling a cracking statue, Steph wants to cry, but she knows very well that she doesn't deserve to cry over you, Barbara just- it's like she just stopped working
As much as she feels so cruel right now, she knew it was the only thing that will keep you hidden, if not, they'll keep trying to find you
Green arrow crossed his arms, but it was clear he was disturbed by the death of a 12 year old kid "Diana, please elaborate"
"Bruce here, had intercourse with a god, that led to (Name) being born, monsters attack demigods, people who are half god half human such as myself, without proper protection monsters kill demigods easily, and (Name) suffered that fate, monsters attack demigods while they're young and tasty and leave them alone as they grow older, they don't feed usually on humans, just animals and demigods"
It seemed like Batman or more appropriately for this situation Bruce wasn't even listening, his mind still stuck at the announcement of your death
"If it'd make you feel better, you can take a break for a while... I know what it's like to lose family, we all do, let yourself grieve Batman, you might be a hardcore vigilante but you're still a father" (to everyone but name) Barry suggests
Starfire has been trying to calm Dick down, his breathing has become irregular and unstable, switching between deep and short breaths
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Jon runs after Damian, it looked like any second, the unbeatable demon spawn fell to his knees
"Damian! Are you okay!?" Jon asks
"I-i thought it'd only last a few days... Maybe a week if they're incompetent, or maybe months if we're unlucky" Damian started to cough
He took off his robin mask and took a deep breath "Since there was no body, I was fine, I thought they're okay, maybe a few injuries here and there, but they're alive so it's fine, but- the reason there was no body... Was because she was eaten- by stupid, how'd -" Jon didn't know what to do, between the both of them, Damian was the composed one
Then two of his siblings came, Jason and Tim
"what the fuck? Demon spawn?" Jason was surprised, and immediately glared at Jon, accusingly looking at him for making his brother this way
Jon put his up defensively "I didn't do anything, promise, I'm trying to comfort him!"
Tim knelt down with Damian "what happened?"
"(Name) is dead"
And suddenly it feels like nothing matters anymore
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"okay! And this'll be your bed!" Selina ended the tour of the cabin
Selena Beauregard, Daughter of Aphrodite, she was your sister, Gosh you have a sister! And she was nice! She wasn't like Cass who for some reason, closed her eyes everytime you tried to communicate with her
Barbara pretended to be busy, too busy, what do you mean you have to work? Didn't your workplace get burned down by two-face two days ago?
Steph- at least she was honest, she straight up told you she' didn't want anything to do with you
A guy with blonde hair and blue eyes walked out of the bathroom, a nice change from the black and blue eyes you're used to
"hey! You're our new sister! The one who was flirting with that Hephaestus kid-"
"Aster! (Name) Told me they were just friends and if they were flirting what's wrong with that? Love is love" Selena came to your rescue
Aster tilted his head confused with the way you're shifting "what's wrong?" He asked
"aren't people in Greek mythology who are named after flowers turn into them?" You nervously fiddle with your fingers
With that some of your siblings who are in their respective spaces burst out laughing and Aster is hugging you laughing whilst explaining that in Greek mythology "the people came first, not the flower"
That seemed to calm you down a bit, then another girl, whose name is Drew spoke up "so (Name) who's your mortal parent?"
You freeze up at this question but the other kids seemed normal about it
"don't worry (Name) it's some game we play, cause mom's standards are high, we compare mortal parents" Another one one your brothers said, his name is Castillo, he had a faded hair color of blue to purple that reminded you of Ramona flowers
(this is actually canon in Pjo, lmao)
He continued "my father was a famous k-pop idol" he bragged
A little girl then shouted "My dad was a model for Designer clothing!"
Selena rolled her eyes "So whose your dad (Name)?"
You didn't want to answer that, but at the same time- this is the first sibling playing you've ever been in, you're included here!
"my dad is Bruce Wayne... You can look me up on Google- but he, he really wasn't the best- umm dad"
"THE BRUCE WAYNE?" Someone gasps
"i thought his name was Brucie?"
You hear in the background
"I didn't know he was an asshole" Aster muttered
"come on bro, the guy parties all day and he's with children, how could you ever think that guy's a good father?" Castillo shrugs his shoulders
"that's okay (Name), a lot of mom's lovers are vain, taking it too seriously in their heads that they slept with the goddess of beauty, that's why mom stopped revealing herself, there are rare moments, but they're rare" another sister of yours says
You honestly feel so at home here...
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I'm now realizing that the "Neglected daughter" fandom is literally so small, I just saw like three of my readers in another fic I was reading XD
Let's support each other!!!! :3
Also the characters without description are canon characters, people who are actually in pjo
The one with descriptions are OC's!
So Drew and Selena are canon characters! :3
Callisto and Aster aren't
I hope you enjoy the chapter!
@wpdarlingpan @mountvesuvu @nathaly36 @delias-stuff @vanessa-boo @bat1212 @sadslasher13 @ellaprime7
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