#but genuinely that is the worst sensation i have ever felt

[heybobbygirl]

I was trying to chew on my phone case and my teeth scraped against my phone by accident and after hearing the noise it made I think its safe to say I will kill myself

Just gonna go straight out the window into oncoming traffic

(/J OBVIOUSLY I PROMISE I AM COMPLETELY FINE)

[ame-perduexx]

Astrology Observations🦋

*as always* take what you want, leave what you want

*based only on my personal experiences with people with these placements*

🧚🏻cancer venus: if you've ever felt love from a cancer venus then i hope you know how special it can be. does it feel like love-bombing at times? sure. But i find it beautiful how unabashedly they throw themselves into someone they like. can it be suffocating to someone who isn't fully ready to commit? sure. but its impossible not to root for them.

🧚🏻taurus venus: wonderful, incredible, sensational style sense. thrift shop royalty. impeccable taste. can look good in anything - simply because it looks like a carefully curated outfit when in reality it took them probably 5 mins to throw together.

🧚🏻gemini venus: attracted to people who show them endless fascination. enjoys playing questions games to get to know people. knowing someones favorite color or season may seem pointless but they genuinely find a person's answers interesting.

🧚🏻as a fixed sign .... i have found i clash the most with cardinal signs. they infuriate me to no end. I enjoy the dynamic nature of mutable signs more.

🧚🏻Leo sun/moon: listen....even when you meet one and they tell you: "i'm like the most un-leo, leo ever! I hate being the center of attention!" they are LYING. either to you or themselves or both. i understand why taurus get the bad rep for being stubborn but leo's are stubborn in the way they believe they fully are the best person in the room at all times....which in a way i am almost envious of them? they have a kind of self-love that is unflinching.

🧚🏻virgo suns: make extremely well bosses. are very diplomatic and fair in how each worker is treated and never takes anything personal.

🧚🏻Sagittarius suns: for some reason.... the ones i have met and been around (ones who all identify as women) present themselves as extremely proper and pious in social settings. they love to be seen as the most put together one - especially in work-place. quiet in work environment ... but will talk your ear to death if you're sitting next to them at a dinner party

🧚🏻*trigger warning for SA* 🧚🏻scorpio placements. particularly sun,moon and mars. experience deep sexual trauma. over and over and over again in their life. started at an early age. continues to be taken advantage of throughout their lives. easy for them to associate self-worth with being sexually desired in a negative way. doesn't trust a person if they seem innocent at first, it always turns into some form of a violation.

🧚🏻gemini placements: listen to more lofi style music or instrumental. music without lyrics.

🧚🏻gemini moons: i know i've said this before in a post, and its a common understanding with gemini placements, but they genuinely are extremely talented with foreign languages. learn them quickly. hear them spoken for a while and can pick it up naturally.

🧚🏻moon opposite saturn: i'm so sorry. i know how hard it is. the depression, the anxiety, the constant self-doubt. you are truly your own worst enemy. i'm sending every person with this placement all my love.

🧚🏻libra sun & moon: have i ever truly had a deep convo with these placements? no. do i still love their company? yes. but it tends to feel surface level with them. they are not talented in expressing their thoughts in a spoken or written way without it sounding....childish. maybe its just me .... either way they would still be the first person I invite to my party. they make me laugh. maybe it's their childish naive view of the world i love. maybe I wish i could see it that way.

[vasyandii]

I'm kicking my feet I love your oc Vernon! Let me pry though: have Vernon and AM ever kissed, or will they ever kiss? Also does AM enjoy the sensation of Vernon close to him or when she touches him, like in your art of her using him as an AC LOL

AAAAH Howdy howdy!! I'm so glad you like Vernon as I've worked real hard on her! Thank you so much for the ask! 💞💞 I will be answering these in reverse order!

VernonAM 🏺🖥️

Does AM enjoy the sensation of Vernon close to him/when she touches him?

I like to believe AM's come a long way with being touched. When he first transferred his consciousness over to his body, it was sensory overload. The WORST kind.

Everything was too loud, too quiet, he could smell EVERYTHING, everything was too hot, too cold, not hot enough, his mouth felt dry even with the saliva he had, how much it hurt feeling the air in his lungs, HE COULD FEEL HIS EYEBALLS IN HIS SKULL. It was like being born, it was awful. Like Nietzsche said; "To live is to suffer."

Vernon sat him down, trying to calm him since this is technically the first "human" she's seen after 109 years.

AM could feel every fold of his clothing rubbing against his skin, every microscopic fibre stabbing his skin. The residual warmth from Vernon touching him to sit him down so he wouldn't collapse caused AM to start screaming, sobbing.

Because he had no mouth (roll credits) prior to this, he didn't know how to use it to form words. He couldn't articulate what was wrong in his fit of screaming and tears.

And so his body went limp not 10 minutes after. He got out of there, telling Vernon that it's the closest thing he could compare to the torture he put on the other five. Vernon had to convince him to come back again or she'd tear the damn body apart and eat it.

It took months, baby steps of getting him adjusted in being a man. They spent weeks on smell, touch, and heat before they would even consider movement. It was tough on Vernon's end, smart as she is, she's a terrible teacher, asking AM to leave her alone for a few hours or days, lashing out when he's in such a vulnerable state.

But Vernon persisted, and finally AM got to hold her comfortably. Fast forward to now, AM has grown quite fond of the sensation of touch and touching things just for the sake of it. They could be sitting and he'd have it so their shoulders are touching.

AM is fond of Vernon's touch, that's the only time she's gentle (despite her words) with anything that might have the possibility of breaking. He enjoys her softness and warmth; How protective she is of him. AM can't articulate genuine care since his hatred for humanity is still there, but he's grateful, even despite his taunts.

Have AM and Vernon ever kissed? Will they ever kiss?

They kiss often, those two degenerates. It almost makes me jealous how often they kiss (D1 hater over here).

Vernon's technically kissed him before, just to get him comfortable, but it's never on the lips or near his face, usually his wrists and knuckles. Exposure therapy along with affection, basically. He didn't try to kiss her back until he was fully prepared to.

After fully adjusting to his new body, AM was finally able to kiss Vernon. He wasn't very good at it his first attempt. It was more similar to AM headbutting Vernon than an actual kiss.

Having a body gave way to a new emotion; embarrassment. Since he's now technically on the same level as her (in height as well, he's a lil dude) he was embarrassed that his first attempt didn't go as planned. When he didn't have a body, there was nothing to be judged, but now he does.

After brushing it off as him being curious and just feeling like headbutting her, AM didn't attempt to kiss her on the lips until he was sure he was ready.

Their proper first kiss was quite nice.

If you made it this far, thank you for reading my mad man words! I tend to ramble a ton, so if there's anything you'd like for me to clarify, feel free to tell me!

[upon-a-starry-night]

Number Neighbors Pt.19

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary:  When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

----

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was that you couldn’t move your shoulder. The second was the intense throbbing that made your shoulder seem like it was trying to be the drummer of a teenage boy band.

Your attempt to get up is futile as the action causes a burning pain to shoot through your arm and you end up flinging your head back onto the pillow in frustration. Sighing, you throw an arm over your eyes to block out the bright fluorescent lights. Fluorescent lighting is Satan’s worst creation and your eyes already burned from all of your uncontrollable sobbing last night so it only made things worse.

What time even was it? How long have you been out? 

You spot your phone plugged in on the nightstand and are surprised when it turns on when you grab it. There’s a sizable crack across the screen but other than that it seems fine. You had been so sure last night that you’d have to get a new one but I guess the Gods felt bad for giving you more trauma.

The first thing you notice on your lock screen is Nat’s contact photo next to a notification that reads ‘2 missed calls’. That message has you slamming the phone down on your lap as you recount the sound of her ringtone blaring amidst the commotion.

As if sensing you were awake your phone chimes with a message and you slowly turn it over to see Nat’s contact once again. You slide open the text and reread her worried frantic texts from last night before reading her most recent one. 

           Nat🔪:

Nat🔪:

How are you holding up Y/n?

It’s the most serious a conversation has felt with Nat in a long time and your immediate instinct is to make a joke and ease the tension in your chest but Nat is genuinely worried and you want her to know you’re okay.

Y/n🍦:

I’m okay.

I’m stronger than I sound Nat, I promise

Nat🔪:

I don’t doubt it Y/n.

The immediate response has you huffing out a laugh and the tension in your chest eases as you remember that this is Nat you’re talking to. Nat who you never feel on edge when talking to. Nat who would never judge you. Nat who worried about you so much that she called you despite it being the last thing you thought she’d ever do. Your Nat.

Y/n🍦:

Yeah you should see the other guy 

The eye roll emoji is the only response you get and you can almost picture the way she’s shaking her head at your antics, fighting off a smile that slips through anyway. It gives you a warm tingling sensation in your body- aside from the painkillers- and the lull in your conversation allows you enough time to think about last night. 

More specifically the sound of her ringtone in your ears for the first time. As much as you enjoy the playful banter you two always fall into, you find that you can’t bring yourself to ignore addressing what happened this time.

You have a feeling Nat knows that too.

You struggle to find the right words, not wanting to come off too strong, and eventually settle on a simple straightforward confrontation

          Nat🔪:

Y/n🍦:

You called.

You figured the response would take a little bit like it usually does when the two of you talk about more serious topics-usually regarding the two of you meeting- so you set your phone down on the bed and close your eyes. Exhaling a long slow breath as you allow yourself to really process what happened last night. Nat doesn’t give you a chance however, as her response is immediate and you find yourself picking your phone back up seconds after you’d put it down.

Nat🔪:

Of course.

It’s about the kind of answer you expected from Nat, vague as always, but you’re determined to at least hear from her what you already know.

Y/n🍦:

Why?

The two of you both know you’re not just asking why she called. You're asking why now? Of all the times you begged her to let you hear her voice, of all the times you’ve been more than miserable and having an anxiety attack and she never called you once until now.

You almost want to be a little bit angry but your curiosity overrides your anger.

Would she call you again now that she’d already done it twice? You almost voice the question when she responds again

Nat🔪:

I suppose…I care about you more than 

I care about keeping my identity a secret

It feels like something you’d read in a superhero novel and yet still, your heart flutters at the confession. And for a second you let yourself think of the possibility that Nat might like you back.

You almost laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Two people who have never met or even seen each others faces slowly falling for each other. 

What were the chances that someone like Nat was only one number away from yours? There’s something almost…poetic about it. You didn’t know if you believed in destiny but this sure as hell was one wild situation. 

Y/n🍦:

I…care about you too.

More than I probably should hahaha.

The admission is terrifying but you need her to know. You’ve spent too long yearning for her thinking that what you felt was one-sided and now you had to tell her.

Y/n🍦:

I wish I could’ve heard your voice last night.

We were so close…

Inhaling shakily, you type out your next message, mentally crossing your fingers. Your wound throbs and your heart pounds and you wonder briefly if this is what it feels like to fall in love.

Y/n🍦:

Any chance you would call again?

Your message stays seen as the seconds tick by slowly, the clock on the wall in your hospital room slowly moves its hands as if to taunt you. The room is silent and it feels as though all the oxygen has been pulled from your lungs. You finally inhale a sharp breath when a sound ricochets off of the pale blue and white walls.

Her ringtone.

You almost don’t believe it, staring at the screen again the same way you had last night -but your senses quickly catch up to you and you screenshot the screen before clicking the accept button. You were not about to pass up this opportunity again.

Both sides of the call are silent for a good while before you finally speak up, your voice more breathless than you’d expected “Nat.”

“Y/n.” The world stills for a moment. Her voice is soft and distant, albeit a little strained like she’s trying to hold something back. It’s got a little bit of a rasp to it and immediately you find yourself blushing. Her voice was so… “I got you something” 

Before you can question what she means there’s a knock on the door and the phone hangs up. You’re more than a little disappointed at how brief the call was but as her words process in your brain, you look up to see a nurse entering with a bright smile and a large bouquet of your favorite flowers.

“Glad to see that you’re up sweetheart. How ya feelin’?”

You and the nurse converse about your condition, how your wound feels, how to treat it, and when you can be discharged, throughout the conversation your eyes keep drifting back over to the flowers the nurse placed on your side table. They brighten the whole room just by being there and you unconsciously feel yourself smiling when you look at them. The nurse notices that when she places your painkillers on the table next to you with a glass of water, a knowing smile crosses her face.

“Well someone sure wants to show off,” Your gaze snaps back to the woman and you tilt your head in curiosity, the nurse inclines hers toward the flowers “Sending you such a large bouquet like that, I got so many looks bringing it up here”

The two of you chuckle and you think it’s just like Nat to show off. Although this gesture just seems more sweet than anything.

“You’re a lucky girl, seems like your girlfriend really loves you a lot” You blush, covering your face with your hands to hide the silly smile that formed at her assumption. You really should deny the claim but… is it so bad if someone believes it’s true? 

Instead, you let yourself divulge in the fantasy, peaking through your fingers, you make eye contact with the nurse and shyly nod

“Yeah, she- she does” It doesn’t feel like a lie when you say it and the thought of getting sent bouquets from her more often because she’s your girlfriend makes your stomach warm.

The nurse checks your vitals while you’re stuck in your daydream and gives you one last wink as she exits the room. The feeling in your chest confirms your feelings and you find yourself opening up another message, Leon’s contact photo popping up.

You send him a message saying he was sweet and you appreciate everything he’s done for you but he’s not someone you can see yourself falling for. You feel kind of bad but you’d feel worse stringing him along while you have feelings for someone else. 

He replies immediately, saying he’s a little disappointed but understands and that he hopes you find someone who treats you right. A tension eases in you that you didn’t even know you were holding. He was a good guy. Maybe you two can stay friends.

As you put your phone down again you lean your head back against the wall. When staring at the bright fluorescent lights becomes too much you close your eyes, picturing Nat like you’d done so many times before. You take the gray pajama pants she told you she wears and add the red T-shirt she sent you a picture of, picturing the hair the waiter described as you add in the sound of her voice. Her face still feels fuzzy in your head but you don’t mind as you replay her voice over and over in your mind.

Turning your head, you stare at the flowers with a soft, wistful smile.

You can’t stop thinking about Nat, she sounded…. Stunning.

Pt.20

A/n: That phone call was actually not in the original storyline but it felt right to add when I was writing this chapter~ Starry

---Taglist--

@marvelwomen-simp @cd-4848 @wandanatlov3r @rebeltombraider @ctrlamira @fxckmiup @aliherreraaa @natsxwife @la-douler-ne-finite-jamais @romanoffsgal @moistblobfish @natashaswife4125 @elenimoris @how-to-disappearrr @screechcat @toouncreativeforausername @ordelixx @autorasexy @blacklightsposts @vmpnano @jono723 @sylencr @saraaahsstuff @autorasexy

[fafnir19]

The Bargain

I noticed Maya's agitation for the past few days. She seemed distant, lost in her own thoughts. Concerned, I finally mustered the courage to ask her what was wrong. "Maya, what's been bothering you lately?" I asked, my voice filled with genuine concern. She sighed deeply, gazing down at her hands.

"Tristan, I made a foolish mistake," she confessed, her voice trembling. "I... I summoned a demon to help me pass my exam." My heart skipped a beat. Summoning a demon? That was risky business. "Did it work?" I asked cautiously. She nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. "Yes, I passed the exam, but now... now it's time to pay the price." My heart sank, a mixture of sadness and fear flooding my emotions. "What... what's the price?" I stammered, fearing the worst. Maya shook her head, avoiding my gaze. "I... I don't want to talk about it."

Determined to help her, I searched through Maya's belongings and found the summoning materials she used. With trembling hands, I summoned the demon she had called upon, Incedis. A swirl of dark energy appeared before me, materializing into the form of a demon. Incredibly muscular, with fiery red skin and horns that curled elegantly above his head, Incedis gazed at me with piercing crimson eyes. "What do you want, mortal?" he bellowed, his voice booming and menacing. "Please," I pleaded, my voice shaky yet resolute. Summoning all my courage, I looked Incedis in the eye and said, "I'm willing to serve you for a week in the underworld if you release Maya from her debt." The demon laughed, his voice filling the room. "A week? Very well, Tristan. Your sacrifice amuses me. We have a deal." Excitement and trepidation coursed through me as I shared the news with Maya. Maya stared at me, her eyes filled with disbelief. "You did what? You're going to serve in the underworld for a week?" I nodded, determined to show Maya that I would do anything for her. "Yes, I made a deal with Incedis. He agreed to release you from your debt." Maya sighed, a mixture of frustration and affection evident in her voice. "Tristan, I appreciate you trying to help, but my debt was merely my favorite handbag. I never wanted you to go through this."

Days passed, and the agreed-upon time arrived. A magical portal opened before me, and without hesitation, I stepped into the unknown. As I emerged in the underworld, I couldn't help but notice a strange sensation. I felt stronger, more agile than ever before. Then I saw them—horns protruding from my forehead.

Incedis appeared beside me, his menacing aura unyielding. "Well, well, Tristan," Incedis purred, his eyes flickering with amusement. "You look even more tempting with those horns." He ran a finger along one of the spiraling horns that had grown atop my head, sending an unexpected jolt of arousal through my body. Startled, I took a step back, my face flushing. "What... what was that?" Incedis chuckled darkly. "Seems like the underworld has bestowed you with a few gifts, Tristan." He winked impishly before leading me off to my first task. As the days passed in the underworld, I found myself assisting lost souls in their journey to their interrogation rooms. It was a somber task, but the work itself was relatively straightforward. However, on the second day, my duty took a seductive turn. I was restrained in a chair and shown films of powerful men while Incedis stood behind me, caressing my horns. The sensation sent waves of pleasure coursing through me, building towards an explosive climax. But just as I was on the brink, Incedis would remove his hand, leaving me panting and unsatisfied. This ritual continued on the third day, leaving me both frustrated and bewildered.

But on the fourth day, everything took an unexpected turn. While standing at the gate, a handsome CEO of a large corporation entered, catching my eye. As my body responded with a familiar stir of arousal, Incedis noticed and smirked. "No need to return to the room from the previous days this afternoon," Incedis hissed, his voice dripping with wicked delight. "Congratulations, Tristan. You're officially gay." My mind spun in a whirlwind of confusion and betrayal. But amidst the storm of emotions, one thing remained clear - my determination to prove Incedis wrong. "G-gay? No, that can't be right," I stammered, my voice quivering with denial. "I have a girlfriend, Maya." Incedis laughed, a wicked sound echoing through the underworld. "Are you sure about having a girlfriend, Tristan? See for yourself!" With a flick of his wrist, Incedis conjured a swirling mist that enveloped me, revealing a startling image. Maya, entangled in passionate embrace with my supposed best friend, their bodies moving in rhythmic synchronicity.

The image cut through me like a thousand knives, pain and anger blending into an explosive mixture. "Maya," I whispered, my voice tinged with hurt and betrayal. "How could you?" Incedis licked his lips, relishing in the chaos he had birthed. "Seems you've been mistaken about having a girlfriend, Tristan. And perhaps you're also mistaken about not being gay. Let go of those mortal attachments. Embrace who you truly are." My fists clenched at my sides, my body trembling with conflicting emotions. The world around me blurred as my sight narrowed to focus on Incedis. "No," I hissed through gritted teeth. "I won't let you define me. I won't let you take away my identity." Incedis smirked, unfazed by my defiance. "Very well then, my stubborn mortal. Come with me." Confusion seized me as Incedis snapped his fingers, I found myself dressed in tight leather and silk riding pants that clung to every curve of my body, a velvet shirt open to the waist.

The very fabric seemed to whisper against my skin, igniting a strange and illicit fire within me. I looked down at myself in disbelief. "What is the meaning of this?" I demanded, my voice laced with frustration. "What have you done to me?" Incedis led me through the twisted corridors of the underworld, until we reached a grand temple.

I stood in the dimly lit temple, surrounded by flickering candles that cast dancing shadows on the walls. The air was heavy with anticipation as I faced the demon standing solemnly before the altar, his eyes glowing with an otherworldly fire. It was at this moment that I hesitated, unsure of what I was about to agree to. "Do you want to be a demon of lust and desire for eternity?" the demon asked, his voice reverberating through the room. "If so, seal your agreement with a moan." I opened my mouth to refuse indignantly, to reject this twisted offer that would condemn me to an eternity of debauchery. But before the words could escape my lips, Incedis sensually caressed my horns, causing a wave of pleasure to course through my body. A gasp escaped my lips, and I felt my resistance crumble. Incedis smiled wickedly, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "That's it, Tristan. Give in to your deepest desires." My mind was clouded by an intoxicating cocktail of pleasure and confusion. In that moment, the realization hit me like a bolt of lightning – perhaps my own desires were more complex than I had ever allowed myself to believe. And perhaps, deep down, I yearned for something different, something wild and untamed. As the demon's touch lingered on my horns, I felt a dark hunger stirring within me, a craving for unimaginable pleasure. I tried to fight it, but with every stroke of Incedis's fingers, my resolve crumbled further. Was I truly giving in to temptation? With a voice filled with both mischief and power, Incedis whispered in my ear, "Seal your agreement, Tristan. Embrace your inner demon." The pull was too great, the allure too strong to resist any longer. In a moment of surrender, I let out a moan, a sound that sealed my destiny. The demon before me nodded, a sinister smile playing on his lips. "Welcome, Tristan," Incedis purred. "Welcome to your new existence."

As the words echoed in the temple, the room seemed to shimmer and warp. Reality twisted around me, and when the haze of change cleared, I found myself standing in a different realm. The colors were vivid, the air crackling with an electrifying energy. I had become a demon of lust and desire. My first task awaited me, beckoning me towards a new purpose. I was to enter the dreams of straight men and engage in gay activities with them, to awaken desires they had never known existed.

This was my new reality, a path filled with temptation and forbidden pleasure. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what lay ahead. There was no turning back now. I had become a creature of the night, a vessel for desire. And as I stepped into the swirling dreamscape, I couldn't help but feel a stirring of excitement, a thrill of anticipation. My journey had taken a dark turn, leading me down a path I had never expected. But in this new existence, I would discover truths about myself that I had long buried. But for now, my focus was on the task at hand. The demons within dreams awaited, their secret desires ready to be uncovered. And as I took my first step into the ethereal realm of untapped longing, I couldn't help but wonder – how deep into the abyss of desire would I allow myself to sink?

[pedropascallme]

Hi...

Can you please write a pedro×reader?

Pedro can't sleep and they stay up by the fire place just talking and kissing

AN: I altered this ask slightly but not by much. I feel like it's a little rushed, but I hope you like it <3

After waking up, unprompted, for the fifth time, Pedro rolled over in bed to find it empty. Sitting up, he could read the clock on the far side of the room. 3:27AM. Fantastic.

He willed himself up, deciding that perhaps sleep just wasn’t in the cards for him tonight, and meandered out of the bedroom. The downstairs light was on, and he felt inclined to see if that was where you had gone, walking carefully down the steps, squinting so as to see the stairs better without the help of his glasses. He felt a subtle guilt nipping at his heels, worried that he had forced you out of the comfort of your shared bed after hours of his tossing and turning. Maybe he was catastrophizing, but he felt it would be only logical for you to be at least minorly pissed at him for keeping you up.

“Querida…?” He spoke softly, continuing to tiptoe across the living room. Worst case scenario, you were asleep on the couch and he would be waking you yet again—this time with more purpose. 

“I’m here.” You perked up at his voice, having not heard him come downstairs. He shuffled over to the couch, leaning his body on yours. 

“I woke up and you weren’t in bed.”

“Were you worried?”

He laughed, “No. You can hold your own.” You smiled, looking distantly into the fire place where embers burned.

“I just couldn’t sleep.”

“I’m sorry I was moving around so much, I should’ve slept on the couch, or—”

“What?” You turned to him, confused.

“I was—I kept waking up and if I jostled you, you could’ve sent me downstairs.” Pedro, now also confused, looked back at you. You laughed to yourself, amused by his thought process: Why would you ever want to kick him out of bed?

“Pedro.” You spoke flatly, but still smiled, “You woke up, reached for me, and then fell back asleep a few times. If anything, you were a comforting factor in my inability to fall asleep.” For a moment the two of you stared at each other, loved up and giddy, and then a look of confusion befell him once more.

“Why’d you leave then, querida?” He seemed almost hurt. You wrapped yourself around him, arms reaching his back.

“I thought I was bugging you.” It was an honest answer, “I thought…I dunno, I was on my phone, I thought I was waking you up.”

“Not at all.” You both looked back into the fireplace. “Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Don’t leave the bed.”

“You sound worried.” You teased. He scoffed and played with a strand of your hair.

“No…I—a little, maybe. I just like knowing you’re close to me.”

“Even when neither of us can sleep?”

“Especially when neither of us can sleep.” He squeezed your sides and you squirmed away from the ticklish sensation. Pedro pulled you closer. 

“I won’t, then. I won’t leave.”

“Good.” He slumped over you, brushing his lips over the crown of your head as he spoke. “Want you near me all the time.”

“Me too.” You suddenly felt the lack of sleep catching up to you; maybe it was the comfort your boyfriend offered, or the warmth of the fire, but your eyelids began to feel heavy. “I’m near you now.” It wasn’t meant as a reassurance, in truth it was just the only thing your tired mind could think to say, and the fact that it was said with so much love and trust behind it was because it was how you genuinely felt. 

“You are.” Pedro pulled you tighter to him, now equally as tired as you. The sun came up just as the two of you fell asleep in your position on the couch.

[anaalnathrakhs]

okay, since you said more requests are welcome: 13. and/or 30. for a Mick ship of your choosing would be sweet <3

one 13. Drunken/drugged/sleepy confessions and 30. Only one bed, coming right up

I hear your heart beat to the beat of the drums

700 words Rated G probs Tommy/Mick

also on ao3 for ur reading comfort

“Don’t fall asleep.”

The voice was the only bridge left between him and reality. 

“You have to go home, c’mon.”

Oh the dulcet tones, oh the velvety flow. 

“You can’t do this,” the voice slurred. “That was my bed, man.”

“Sure I can.”

“No you can’t.”

Mick put his best effort into shrugging. His shoulders rose directly into the couch cushions, and his spine woke up again, but that was the price to pay. 

“Move over, I’m not sleeping on the ground.”

“Should’ve thought about it. Before.”

Tommy rummaged near the couch. He could hear the sound of his steps, hurried, unsure, but he couldn’t see anything. His eyelids weighed a million pounds. So much he could never open them again. Already sleep crept up on him again, heavy as lead. Tommy would find something else. He always did. Mick let the pathetic ripped cushions absorb the ache in his back (nevermind tomorrow) and the vague sensation of nausea that he was used to ignoring.

Finally comfortable.

That is, until a sharp and bony asshole wormed himself on the thin strip of fabric that was left between Mick and the abyss beyond the couch.

“Move the fuck over,” he muttered through the haze. Halfway muffled into a forearm, not his own.

“Should’ve thought about it before.”

So that didn’t fall in deaf ears. He could hear the self-sufficient smirk. How proud he was of tormenting his own guitarist.

“Go find somewhere else to crash.” 

“No,” Tommy sighed, nuzzling in the eviscerated armrest above Mick’s head. “The one and only night I don’t go off with a girl, you steal my bed.”

“That’s not your bed,” he could only answer. A peaceful slumber was so near, just beyond his fingertips, and he couldn’t reach the sweet black hole of bliss because he was boxed in an angular hug with the worst chatterbox he had ever met. A solid headache rooted behind his eyes started making surface.

“Yes it is,” Tommy yawned. “Vince locked the room.”

“Sleep on the ground, then.”

He usually bit back these kinds of comments. Not that they didn’t deserve it, but he’d rather not get booted from the band before they could do anything of value. It just wasn’t worth the argument. Well. It still wasn’t, but fuck that. He wanted the couch to himself, not an elbow in his ribs.

“Dude, you’re so mean to me.” He could hear the pout in Tommy’s voice.

He debated answering. What, though? What could be answered? Yeah, he was mean. Loud, rude, and aggressive. His spine was starting to hurt from the contrived position Tommy had shoved him in, against the back cushions. It was way too late, and way too many drinks for that. He closed his eyes harder.

“You don’t wanna be nice and share with a friend, Mick?” he poked the shoulder that was nearest.

“No.”

“Aw, you don’t like me,” he was sounding way too pleased saying that. The kid had something in mind. Some devious plan. “I thought you were cool, man!” He sighed, but Mick would not mistake a setup for some kind of genuine sadness. Tommy wasn’t even capable of thinking people didn’t like him.

“I was on the couch first.” That felt safe to settle on. And efficient. Goal-oriented. 

“And that was my couch first,” Tommy protested. 

“Finders keepers.”

“Piss off,” he said, and as he said it, his hand began absentmindedly running up and down Mick’s back. A gentle touch, almost something he would’ve believed Tommy incapable of.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he raised his voice the best he could, drowned as he was between couch and man, “don’t fall asleep here.”

“I told you that,” Tommy yawned again. “You move if you want. ‘m staying.”

Mick groaned. His voice was sounding too low, too slow, for him to have any hope. Tommy would sleep here no matter what. He was well and truly stuck.

“Love you, dude. G’night,” Tommy settled his chin atop Mick’s head, the buzz of his voice in his throat right next to Mick’s ear. But despite that, his fingers dancing lightly along Mick’s back didn’t stop. His other arm slid up a little, nestled comfortably between the two of them. His breath slowed down, deep, steady, rhythmic. He radiated warmth.

Something was amiss, but for the life of him, Mick couldn’t focus. Sleep was catching up.

“Love you too, dude,” he murmured while he still could. 

Tommy hummed gently in response.

[fandaniel]

okkk posting a draft of cherry and fandaniel thing. its not nsfw but like. leading to it. its a scene before sex probably. ive posted a few things from it already.

He prodded at the roasted beef on the plate with his fork, the flesh was overly tender, falling apart at the softest press of his fork. There was an unfamiliar hunger growing in the pit of his stomach that felt misplaced. Things once dead shouldn’t be so tempting.

“I spent the day preparing it for us,” Fandaniel gave him a knowing look across the table, as if tempting him with his eyes. “Please, don’t hurt my feelings by not giving it a honest try. You might come to like it, my dear.”

Cherry gave him a glare for a moment, before straightening his back, he wasn’t here to pick a fight when there was information he could gain, and so much to lose if he didn’t play politics with this ascian. Clearing his throat, “I don’t eat meat is all, sorry to offend.” He twirled the goblet of wine the host across from him had poured for him, fainting interest in the alcohol. “Is this imported?” There was a role to be played before he could pry on intent.

There was a small bit of sourness on the hosts face as he leaned into the velvet backing of the chair, a theatrical sigh left his mouth, all the time with the dramatics. He was the worst ascian Cherry had the displeasure of talking to, nothing seemed genuine, it was hard to tell where he began and where he ended with his acting. “I am a terrible host for not asking a preference for dinner, but it was so hard to get you alone, completely alone.” His voice lowered to a sonorous tone. “Grateful though, the savior of humanity, the hero of this tale, could indulge me with a night. I will hold this memory dearly.”

“Mhm,” Cherry mumbled during a cursory sip after inspecting the wine for any poisons or other methods of foul play. “Why did you invite this get together, again?”

That seemed to spark his interest as he leaned forward and rested his arms on the wood table. “We both want something with this arrangement, Warrior of Light. You want, no, need to know more about me, isn’t that correct? To get an idea of how to stop me?” He smiled like a fox with a rabbit in his teeth. “You were special to a man I share the memories of. Disgustingly special. You don’t remember him, but I remember you, of all your qualities and accomplishments.” Something was mixed in his words there, something bitter, despite the praise. His eyes briefly flickered downwards. “Surely, you want to know more, your mind is magnificently curious, it is simple to see.”

For what little he knew of Fandaniel, this was off kilter for his tightly knitted mask of personality, causing Cherry to stare at him temporarily, scrutinizing every detail. “You seem genuine.” “Oh, you hurt my heart with your words! I have only been genuine.” “Liar.”

There was a pause in Fandaniel’s wit as he let out a cold chuckle, “I am reaching my hand out, Warrior of Light, can’t you see it in your heart to catch me and embrace me?”

That feeling in the pit of his stomach again stirred, Cherry reached for his glass of wine to find it empty, must’ve finished it without thinking. The gnawing sensation that he was going to do something uncharacteristic of a heroic man, to behave on self interest, something he had tried to work out of him over the years.

“At least tell more information than that, I’m not rejecting anything. It’s unfair for you to say such things without explaining.” Not that you have ever explained yourself in a manner that is rational. Cherry reached for the wine bottle in the center, only to be met with Fandaniel’s hand meeting his own.

“No need to drink so hurriedly.” His hand was soft against Cherry’s scarred and battle worn hands, his voice was more off putting to him than usual, it was all too soft. “I want you to remember as well, all the details.” Fingers interlocking each other. “His name was Hermes. You would have liked him, I believe. But he was a dour man, despite living in paradise, but he had you, well, a unsundered you, at his side to ease his disposition.”

He was too fascinated at his tale to take care of their hands interlocking, or that his heart seemed to pick up speed, to pick at his hosts brain was of the most importance. I have heard from other ascians’ something of my soul being familiar. Confirms my suspicions. “Why would you hate living in something you’ve described as a paradise?” “To everyone else, but everyone is blind to truth, suffering, that the only way to remove pain is to remove it at the start.” Fascinating.

“I’ve come to my conclusion.” He chimed in, reassuring his self appointed truth, in that there was no changing.

“I didn’t think I had any foothold to change your mind on the matter so easily.” And Cherry was not a fool to mistake a crack in the door as an opening. “And that, my darling, is why I’ve always liked you so much.” Fandaniel cooed, rubbing his thumb against the back of Cherry’s hand, paying attention to running over healed scars.

“I think I’ve given you a good taste, something to ease some of your endless hunger of knowledge.” Fandaniel lifted Cherry’s hand to hover over his lips with an impish expression. “While I don’t feel a connection to that man, I do feel something special with you, and I know you feel a draw between us. If there was someone I would want to experience pleasure with before ending the world, it would be you.”

A hero shouldn’t act in such a manner, so many of those look at me for guidance in this world, but I never agreed to be looked towards for morals or to be an idealistic person to be. Yet, the hunger he spoke of was identical.

“Don’t muddy my feelings with talking about the world ending.” “My apologies, my prince. I wanted to make my vision clear, a night of pleasure for us both, and then we continue on our paths.”

Fandaniel kissed the knuckle of Cherry’s hand, gesturing for forgiveness. He needed to decide, quickly, either to run away with the information he has gained or to confront his own feelings of neediness. Just a taste. “Then, it’s agreed upon.” Impassively speaking, as if it was business as usual.

[pupkou]

MEDICAL TW AND GROSS TMI ABOUT THE BATHROOM (only sharing so people don’t feel embarrassed/alone/ashamed if the same thing happens to them)

NOTES ON DAY 4:

today was by far the worst pain day

i think the prescription pain medicine (hydrocodone) i was taking was helping with the pain on my chest but making me have really awful migraines so i stopped taking it today and i dont plan on taking it again

i had a TERRIBLE migraine all last night and all day today which sucked cuz i could barely open my eyes and then my grandma and uncle invited themselves over so i had to talk to them for like an hour -__-

my throat doesn’t hurt anymore and it doesn’t feel like there’s any gunk in there anymore :)!

still feeling very very itchy on my back and sides and upper chest that isn’t bandaged

the sensations on my chest are getting really weird

i keep getting weird chills and cool sensations out of nowhere

on the left side it feels like there’s a buzzing bee in my chest every few minutes and then on my right side i don’t feel anything

my left side also hurts way more than my right

my drains aren’t draining much anymore, i think we only emptied them once today and barely anything came out. it’s less bloody every day and more yellow/clear

my stomach also hurt like CRAZY today, probably genuinely the worst it’s ever hurt in my life, it felt like i was being stabbed over and over again while having period cramps at the same time. i took one of the stool softener pills to try and help get some of the pain out because when i took one the other day it helped but 🥲

TMI GROSS at one point i felt pressure building up in my stomach and it felt like i was being stabbed again so i farted since it was hurting so horribly bad LOL and i ended up shitting myself LMFAOOOOO 😭😭😭😭

i got cleaned up and then back in bed at this point because i was sooooo embarrassed and done with life because i had to ask my mom to wash my blanket and clothes 😭

but my stomach kept hurting really bad so i would scramble to get up and to the bathroom any time my stomach would feel weird just to not be able to go at all -__-

i laid down in the dark for a while because i still had a horrible migraine during this until i realized it had been like 8 hrs since my last pill

so i took some excedrin migraine and laid down for a bit and it helped me feel like 10000x better and i was able to eat for the first time today!!! i had some cereal and it was delicious B-]

i’m still having a really hard time regulating my temperature so i have two fans and a blanket on me to balance it out 😭

my hair is so greasy and my armpits are so sweaty and i’m SO ready to shower once i get my drains out .

my arms are very weak still and it’s hard to open things with caps/doors/drawers, even the soap dispenser and flushing the toilet takes a lot of strength from me

[mistletouchunderthetree]

i know it’s very Haha Amber Did A Silly but last night was genuinely so terrifying that i feel like im going to be traumatized by it. i can’t stop thinking about how it felt like i was burning all over and burning inside my brain and i didn’t know where i was or what i was doing and my thoughts were racing in a way ive never experienced and i legitimately believed i was having a stroke which turned into one of the worst panic attacks ever which just reinforced the thought that something was wrong because my hands and legs started tingling and they had to put a freezing ice pack on me to break me out of the panic attack and once we figured out “oh she’s just high out of her mind” and i knew i wasn’t dying then i was able to calm down and just deal with the sensation of not knowing What The Fuck Was Going On. but there was a long moment that i literally thought “im having a stroke and im going to die if an ambulance doesn’t get here NOW, why is my sister in law calling my MOM and not 911” (i think that’s when i started screaming, idk its a blur. they said i screamed a lot) but i can’t get that Feeling out of my mind, of like, im dying right now and there’s nothing i can do about it. genuinely one of the most terrifying experiences of my LIFE but like i said it’s being framed as a case of Amber Did Something Stupid As Usual instead of taking me seriously about how scary it was

[send-up-my-heart-to-you]

in honor of world mental health day heres my story below the cut :)

kinda hard to talk abt this cause its somewhat triggering and ik theres gonna be ppl who think im just an emo 15 y/o, but i swear im not tryna be dramatic. im tryna make peace with my past, and also show others that despite everything, you can make it.

also, im tryna show that healing isnt all sunshine and daises. theres the good, the bad, and the ugly. you can and will survive it all

tw: sewerslide attempt, abusive parents, self harm, violence ig ?

ive died two times in my life so far.

the first time, it was my parents who killed me. december 31st, 2020, ~1.15am. i remember dragging across the hallway in my house, a throbbing sensation in my thigh, the mark already turning purple. i walked past my younger sisters' room, where my cousin was sleeping over with them, and i remember climbing into bed, hugging my pillow, crying against the pillow. that night, it was my innocence that died. my childhood happiness, per se. i remember swearing to myself in those final moments before darkness that id never forget that day. december 31st, 2020, ~1.15am.

the time between my two deaths was filled with barely anything other than self loathing. i remember trying to set goals for myself, reasons to live. i tried out new hobbies. i was never able to meet those goals, and all the hobbies bored me.

i met some of the best people ever during that time. i also met some of the worst. i might sound dramatic, cause im young and impressionable, but the people i met during that time genuinely shaped who i am. i dont wanna act like im an old soul or anything, cause im sure that in a few years imma look back and think, "shit, i was really immature." but i matured faster than others my age. i found myself faster, found things i liked, found love, found out i hated being in love.

and then i died again.

this was a recent death. june 22, 2023. my mental health had been deteriorating for months prior – i still have scars on my arms.

it was a slower death compared to the last one. i started dying at around 4.00pm. it went on for an hour before the pain became unbearable and i confessed to my parents. i didnt want to go to the hospital, i was scared of what theyd do. i threw up seven times before giving in at about 8.00pm. they took me to the hospital. i was told told me i was lucky to be alive, that my liver was still functional. i didnt feel lucky. i felt like death wouldve been less painful. my head was spinning

i died in that hospital bed, at ~9.40pm, with my eyes wide open, my mom sitting near me. my thoughts at the time were along the lines of this:

im quite literally a child in the eyes of the world. ive done nothing. i have a psychology exam tomorrow. i have a book im halfway done writing, and a new story thats been brewing in my head for months. but if i die now, ill never get to finish any of that. ill never succeed. ill never be able to spit in the faces of the girls who bullied me, of the teachers who doubted me. why would i do this to myself? why would i rob myself of that chance?

so i died. but not the same way as last time. this time, it was the poisonous me that died, the me that whispered in my ear that my life would amount to nothing, that everyone else had it better, that you either succeed or you dont.

and when i died the second time, something happened that didnt happen the first time.

i was reborn.

at the time of me writing this, its been less than four months since my rebirth. in those four months:

i decided to change the world somehow. not necessarily by finding the cure to cancer or anything, id be satisfied if it was just a cute lil video i made going viral. as long as theres someone out there who i changed

i finished about six chapters of my book

i began writing the story that had been brewing in my head

i started lifting weights to make myself feel better abt how i looked

i got closer to god. stopped missing prayer

i moved schools, leaving behind both bullies and friends

i started focusing on my studies

i tried to fix my relationships with my parents and my siblings

dont get me wrong. none of these are completed. im still an extreme case of nobody-ness. i havent finished writing either of my stories. i still skip out on working out a lot i still only do the bare minimum in terms of religion. im still struggling to catch up in school to make up for my three years of burnout. my relationship with my family is still kinda weird

and i still feel like im dying sometimes. its not like i changed overnight and all those suicidal thoughts and feelings of drowning just disappeared when the sunrays came up. theres still a lot of issues in my life.

but i have faith in myself. in my ability to change the things that can be changed. in creating happiness where theres room for it to be made.

and if finding happiness a losing battle?

well, ill fight like its the fucking boudican revolt.

[raphieeee]

CW: talking about scars and trauma, burns, Pyrophobia (I think that’s what it’s called…?)

For as long as any of them knew him, Casey Jones always wore big and baggy clothing. Not one of his paint stained hoodies ever went past his wrist or were rolled up, nor were his tacky denims jeans ever left with rips as he always stitched them together with messy black cotton.

None of them thought anything of this, even when they all realised at various moments. It was just one of the many things that made Casey Jones so, well… Casey Jones.

But then the tar incident happened.

It was a simple mission, stop some purple dragons from messing around at a construction site that they were using as a cover for their latest batch of weapons. Leo was even relaxed enough to make a few genuine jokes, something that always made them feel safe even if it had the side effect of a little cringing.

Casey and Mikey had been chasing after these two goons who had been caught with their pants literally down and were fumbling over the place. One of them knocked over a heated container that had tar in it, which ended up getting on Casey’s arm but thankfully he had enough layers to be safe.

Instinct still took over when the threat of burns settled into his mind and he ripped his hoodie of as the heat started to get to his skin, flailing a bit as the sleeve caught slightly on his shirt and he ended up ripping that off two in his panic.

He was cursing up a storm about loosing his second favourite hoodie, trying to focus on that and not the feel of heat, when he realised that Mikey was staring at him with a slack jaw and wide eyes that were quickly gathering tears. Confused, Casey had walked over to him before stopping suddenly as realisation settled in. Right as it did, Mikey’s lip started to wobble as he held back tears.

Casey couldn’t stop the growing panic attack even if he was at home alone with his favourite show and a dozen teddies around him and four air coolers on max.

Mikey had seen it, and he one thing he wanted to hide for all eternity.

Across the left side of his body, from his thigh up to his back and over both shoulders, were his burns. The skin was marred and twisted, both looking thin and so tough as it’s shaped wobbled and twisted, some pale while others seemed stuck on a pink like hue. His left side was the most visible to Mikey, and was also the worst, as it was where the skin of his armpit struggled to keep its flexibility and shape as scar tissue took over it. It was where you could see that he he fire touched his arm and dripped down and down, the source of over ten years of pain, physical and mental.

Casey sobbed as he tried and failed to cover himself, almost screaming when Mikey stopped him from putting the still tar covered hoodie on. Casey only allowed him to as he realised that the threat of more heat was bad enough.

It could have been minutes or hours, most likely mere seconds, but soon the others were rushing around the corner at the sound of the commotion.

Casey would forever be grateful to his leader for his quick thinking. While the others stared in shock, Leo ripped off part of a tarp and wrapped it over his body, careful to not actually put pressure on his body.

Him and Raph took Casey home, both of them letting him sob and whine like a child as memories and sensations took for this mind all while the feeling of being stuck in a pedestal with a hundred lights and millions of eyes watched him and whom sick.

Raph cleaned up the vomit, Leo ran a cold bath.

Casey Jones felt like his world was falling apart yet at the same time he felt a relief like no other when his best friend and his most trusted teacher didn’t bat a single eye. They stayed by him as he sobbed and even as his skin was visible.

Casey was scared, but he was also safe. Safe from fire, safe from tar, safe from judgement.

Safe with his ninja turtles.

[bonesandpoemsandflowers]

Hi! I saw ALW’s Phantom of the Opera live a couple of days ago and I haven’t been able to stop consuming Phantom content ever since, which is why I happened to read your interpretation of Leroux’s Phantom of the Opera, and the post is so well thought out I really felt compelled to send you an ask. It’s so hard to find a good book commentary in which Erik is not depicted as the worst man alive or the sweetest angel who did nothing wrong.. I’ll definitely be going through your tags in the next couple of days!

I hope this doesn’t come off as inappropriate, just wanted to say I absolutely love your take on the character, I don’t usually see interpretations I actually like or agree with!

Have a good day 🫶

nonono this was SUPER cool of you and I really appreciate it! and I'm sorry my tags are a mess and you can't find all my Erik thoughts in one place.

I find the current dominant fanon on poto to be...frustrating. It's a bunch of people engaging in the most shallow, deliberately bad faith reading, rehashing the same tired ass takes. I'm off reddit now but for a few months there I had a lovely time on the poto subreddit, with, like, one good reddit friend who was, like me, an adult age fan of gothic literature in general, and we were constantly batting theories back and forth for why the culture is like this--and why only the English speaking portion of an international sensation is like this. We ultimately concluded that some people are just saying shit for the clout, but also the show brings out a TON of repression in people. We are convinced that some of the loudest, most irritating, most condemning voices are the ones also reading absolute filth on a03.

Some people are attracted to Erik and cannot handle the reality of that. It's easier to not admit you like something you "shouldn't," and pop culture has not come nearly as far in this way as it thinks it has. There's a lot of internalized hang ups and even shame about liking something that is, on some level, portrayed as potentially dangerous. Something powerful. Some people are still hung up on power = bad, lust after someone powerful in whatever way as indistinguishable from lust for power = bad.

And some other people are genuinely repulsed by the fact that Erik is canonically physically ugly, and they can't live with the realization that they're that shallow. Therefore: Erik must just be a fuckin loser lol and it's all his fault. And this is where some frustrating distortions of Christine's character happen, imo. The contemporary audience can't handle a female character who is anything but free of judgement. Christine is a perfect angel, a good girl, therefore any hesitation about Erik means that EVERYTHING IS HIS FAULT EVER.

But it's also frustrating, too, like you say, when Erik is seen as a perfect little blorbo who's done nothing wrong in his life. The point of it all, imo, the actual point of gothic horror et all assorted genres, is that the suffering is real and it matters and the actions can still be terrible. The character can be both a monster and a martyr.

And maybe it's just that those ideas are too complex for everyone to hold at once. Erik is absolutely a victim and he's not WRONG about how his face is the problem, and of course that would make anyone bitter. But Erik just as absolutely does some terrible things. It's all very understandable, imo--as long as the audience knows that understandable doesn't automatically mean justifiable.

And he's just such a powerful figure, in and out of his story, and also tragic and so Romantic and so romantic, and it drives me crazy that people reduce him to textbook normal male loser.

Like, don't apply your real life filters to fiction, you guys! Erik is not a normal guy! He's brilliant! He's different! That's why there's such fun tension in story--he's got a lot to offer; it's just also very very complicated.

AND THE MOST FRUSTRATING PART IS THAT IT WASN'T ALWAYS LIKE THIS. The stuff that the phandom seems to think is essential and obvious is not essential nor obvious! Broadway carried the show for decades on the strength of mostly women who were mostly obsessed with the Phantom! That's just the reality of it all.

Or, no. The MOST frustrating part is how some people accuse you of internalized misogyny for being sympathetic to Erik. As if reducing all media to the standard of "does the female character choose the Good Husband?" isn't wildly patronizing.

anyway, preaching to the choir, etc...

getting back to important things, CONGRATS ON SEEING IT LIVE FOR THE FIRST TIME! It's such an experience and so deliciously definitive. Do you mind me asking who you saw? I love looking up new cast members and hearing their takes and quirks.

[serenefig]

So you know that prompt from @dire-kumori (https://www.tumblr.com/dire-kumori/716392823136616448/time-travel-au-where-michael-goes-back-in-time) i shared a wip Wednesday of a while back? Unfortunately I'm not certain I'll ever finish it due to interests changing (curse you ADHD hyperfixations). So! Instead I'll post what I have for the writing as well as my plot notes in a reblog.

Fair warning this was not going to have a happy ending for anyone. I planned to have this set up as a stable time loop.

Content Warnings for: child death, child murder, body horror

If I'm missing some warnings let me know and I'll add them here and the tags.

~*~

Michael was so very very tired. It was nearing the end of his shift and he could not wait for this nightmare to end. Here he was stuck doing actual work for a pretend Fazbear Pizzeria that wouldn’t even last the day. It was Saturday; almost time for the “Big Party”. He knew Henry had some form of plan to end it all, but what it was he didn’t know. And if he were honest with himself, Michael didn’t care to know. It was easier that way. And it wasn’t like he didn’t have contingency plans.

He wasn’t certain if Henry knew who he was. The “interview” was a farce at best, and clearly negligent. If it weren’t for the murderous animatronics, Michael might have even let himself enjoy being a manager. There was something freeing in running a half-decent Freddy’s. But no, he was here for more reason 

His alarm went off, signaling the end of the day. The tension drained from his body, barely listening to Elizabeth. Soon, he thought. He was ready for this “big party”.

[LINE BREAK]

Was this heaven? A dream? Another step in his long line of failures? Michael expected to be fully dead. He expected to be rotting in whatever hell his father ended in, suffering side-by-side for all eternity. And yet, here he was. Here Michael lay, in a wooded area devoid of buildings, and a familiarity in his soul.

He wondered how he ended up here. Where his skin once melted onto burning metal, now soft grass tickled what little sensation he had left. It was a habit now, taking stock of his body and decay. How much of him was still left, and how much he would need to replace.

Wriggle the toes and the fingers, twist the joints, flex the small amount of muscle left, feeling the scrapped together endoskeleton push and pull against his body.

Some of the tension left Michael. It seemed there was no loss of movement. He slowly sat up, wincing at the crackling of his burnt and rotten skin. There would be little he could do to patch his skin now, he had to be careful. He had to stay human enough.

He wandered, albeit slowly, out of the wooded area. It was difficult, remembering how to walk. 

[LINE BREAK]

It shocked him to see a younger version of himself, even more so see him laughing and genuinely at that! He watched his  (ex-)friends wave goodbye, leaving the younger Michael by himself. He remembered this day. It was one of the last times his friends were actual friends. Back before his friends used him for Fredbear Diner freebies, before his siblings’ deaths. Back when his life was simple and the worst thing he knew was the occasional swat on the back.

The elder Michael felt fury in his bones, and the urge to rip it all away. This must certainly be hell, as his 13-year-old self had no right to laugh, to not know fear, to genuinely enjoy his time outside of the house instead of using it for an escape.

There stood the boy who let so-called friends dictate his newly teenaged life.

Step

There stood the boy who took his anger and fear out on his kid brother.

Step

There stood the boy who, instead of protecting his family, let his sister die and directly caused his brother’s death.

Step

Soon he was behind his younger self. How the young Michael didn’t hear his older self shamble behind him, the elder didn’t know, but clearly his stench was enough to draw attention as his younger self turned around.

All the self-loathing and disgust that he felt every time he looked into a mirror surged to the surface. How dare he be unblemished. How dare this child live for all the horror that he would come to cause. If it were not for Michael, Elizabeth would not have been snapped up by Circus Baby. If not for Michael, Evan’s head would have never been crushed between Fredbear's jaws. If not for Michael, perhaps his father would never have found Remnant. (But that was a lie, and he knew it. William had created the Funtimes to kill long before Elizabeth stepped in front of Baby).

Michael shoved his younger self to the ground and straddled him. He watched his own hands wrap around this young Michael's throat, feeling as if they had moved of their own accord (how long has it been since Ennard piloted his body, since they left bits and pieces of endoskeleton inside him), and squeezed. Time stood still.

He felt disconnected from the scene before him, and yet he reveled in the sounds his younger self made. In the feel of his remaining skin being torn as the younger Michael clawed at them in an attempt to gain air. God, he really was his father’s son, wasn’t he?

It disgusted Michael how, in this exact moment, it was the most alive he had felt since his brother’s death all those years ago. The haze of his depression had turned sharp, and for the first time in a very long time, he was acutely aware of his actions. Michael found it difficult to let go. To let this young child go where he would be a catalyst for all that went wrong in the family. There was no blood staining the boy's hands yet, but there would be. So he kept squeezing, putting all his weight both rotted and left behind animatronic into killing. And for the first time Michael was glad that his tear ducts had rotted away. 

Soon, too soon, the younger Michael’s struggling got less and less, until eventually he stopped moving altogether. It wasn’t enough for the elder. He was still so angry at himself, and at the world. Michael kept squeezing and squeezing until—

CRACK

It all went dark.

[LINE BREAK]

Bad End (true): There comes a time when a person must admit defeat. Michael had been in this loop for what felt like eternity. He had no idea how long it had been since the fire. And if he were honest with himself, time itself held no meaning to him anymore. He had tried so very hard to change his history— their future. Yet it seemed it was all for naught. Elizabeth was still taken by Circus Baby. Evan was still bitten by Fredbear. Mike was still scooped.

There was a brief period of time where he had set fire to each establishment as they popped up, but each resulted in another loop. Always starting in that clearing, always watching his younger self. And Michael, well, he never knew when to give up as a child. That had not changed. So he watched, and he waited.

Finally, after a long and isolating 100-some odd years, Michael watched as the labyrinthian location went up in flames. He slowly joined the others in the inferno, hoping, praying that he could finally rest. Knowing that the other Michael would likely start his own time journey soon. Perhaps he would break the vicious cycle of death and misery that followed the Aftons.

It was not for him to know, and he was okay with that.

And at long last, Michael Afton was finally reduced to ashes.

[LINE BREAK]

Alt End (good end???): Killing William actually work and the family is safe and no else dies the end

[cbk1000]

So, I'm going to do a long post on my health issues because I haven't really gone into much detail, and there’s a Lot, and maybe this will help someone else. Under a cut, not for anything graphic, but just because this is long as fuck.

I'll note first that for at least a year, maybe longer, I've been having really bad fatigue and brain fog, like struggling to concentrate and not fall asleep at my desk in the middle of the afternoon kind of fatigue. I have to drink a cup of coffee or two before I write just so I can have enough caffeine to get me through a couple of hours of wording. I blamed it on my poor sleep, which for about the same amount of time has been really bad: trouble falling asleep no matter how exhausted I am, waking up multiple times a night, and always waking up feeling extremely tired. Turns out these are all common signs of iron deficiency, which I didn't realise at the time.

Back in February one night after working out I suddenly had a weird sensation in my throat. It felt mildly swollen, and my tongue felt kind of tingly/numb. Nothing like this had ever happened to me before and I assumed it was a mild allergic reaction, though I was confused because I hadn't eaten anything new and I couldn't think of any new environmental exposures that would have done it. I take a Benadryl; no change.

It's after normal office hours, so I decide to have Mr Jenn take me to an urgent care clinic to give me something for the inflammation in case it gets worse.

Doc asks me the usual questions about what I ate, feels my throat for swelling, looks in my mouth, etc. Throat is maybe a tiny bit red, but looks pretty normal. He says just to cover all the bases and because it's going around, he's going to test me for strep.

Strep culture comes back positive. I am genuinely shocked because I have had strep before, it was the worst sore throat of my life, and I felt super sick. I feel fine, aside from the weird feeling in my throat, and it doesn't actually hurt, it's just an uncomfortable sensation. Doc says I probably just caught it early.

I start antibiotics, some prednisone for the inflammation, and also my period. (Which I didn't think was relevant at the time, but looking back I believe it was.)

I feel fine; just a teeny bit run down, but I'm on my period and I have strep.

A few days after starting my period, I start feeling a little worse. Not terrible, just generally Not Well. I ask Mr Jenn if he'll do the grocery shopping (we usually go together) because I just don't feel up to it.

It's a long holiday weekend thankfully, so I have more time to get back on my feet before returning to work. I spend the weekend chilling on the couch with Mr Jenn watching movies. I don't feel absolutely wrecked, but I don't feel well enough to do much more than lie on the couch watching movies.

Tuesday I go back to work. I feel pretty crappy: shaky, weak, just generally shitty. I try to push through but only manage a couple of hours of work and then clock out and take a sick day. I'm concerned because I'm 7 days into a 10 day antibiotic course at this point, and I should be almost back to normal, not feeling way worse than when I started. I decide to lie down and see if I feel any better.

I start feeling AWFUL. So poorly I call Mr Jenn at work and ask if he'll come take me back to urgent care (I don't have a primary care doctor at this point) because this is completely abnormal and I should probably make sure this isn't some complication of strep.

Go back to urgent care, doc feels my throat and looks in my mouth; throat looks fine and he's not seeing any indication the strep is worse. He tells me to stop the Prednisone; some people can have a gnarly reaction to it even during a short course. He also advises me to get my thyroid checked out when I'm able to get established with primary care, because that could potentially be causing some issues.

I go home and spend the day on the couch feeling violently nauseated and ill.

I work a couple of hours a day the next few days, but can't manage much more than that. I'm not feeling nauseated anymore, but I'm very weak and shaky and can't even sit up for long because I feel so crappy.

Friday I'm feeling a little better; but then Saturday I notice I'm having some heart palpitations. It's not super bad, but it's never happened before and I'm very fit with no history of heart issues so I was a bit concerned, but just kept an eye on it.

Sunday I'm having bad tachycardia. My heart is racing when I'm just standing at the sink trying to wash my face. I'm feeling incredibly weak and overall terrible. One of the urgent cares in town has an EKG machine and will do cardiac assessments, so I decide to go there because I'm trying to avoid the hospital if possible.

Urgent care turns me away because the doctor on duty that day isn't comfortable handling cardiac issues, so I have to go to the hospital to get checked out.

I'm so weak I have to hold myself up on the front desk when checking in. I am too weak to stand without holding onto it for support and genuinely feel like I'm dying. I honestly cannot remember the last time I felt that horrible.

Hospital runs a bunch of labs, and does several imaging tests to check for a heart attack and pulmonary embolism. After a couple of bags of IV fluids my heart rate drops to normal and I don't feel back to normal, but I do feel far stronger. Doc says he can't find anything, but that doesn't mean there isn't something to find, so come back if I develop different symptoms or it gets worse.

I lay around on the couch Sunday and Monday.

Tuesday morning I wake up at like 2:00 shaking and feeling horribly weak. I decide to drink some Gatorade and eat some Saltines and see if that helps.

It doesn't. I've gone out to the couch to eat and drink so I don't disturb Mr Jenn, who is still asleep in the bedroom. Seamus is keeping me company, though, so there's that. I go back and forth about what to do. I feel genuinely awful.

I get dressed and wake poor Mr Jenn up at 4:00 and ask him to drive me back to the hospital. My heart is pounding again and I feel like I'm about to keel over.

Hospital doesn't want to redo the imaging tests because it's unlikely anything has changed there after a couple of days (and I had a normal EKG), but they run some more labs including a mono test and give me some more fluids. Doc is stumped. Says maybe it's some kind of virus doing this. (I have been tested for Covid, mono, and a couple of flu strains and all tests have come back negative.) I am discharged.

I update my boss because I took another sick day Monday and let her know I won't be able to work Tuesday either. I am absolutely exhausted when I get home and pass out for three hours, wake up, and feel like I could sleep a million more.

My boss is a former ER nurse and is super concerned about my heart rate and that I feel poorly enough to keep calling out sick, because that’s not like me.

Over the next couple of days she has me check in with her every couple of hours. She has me noting down my symptoms in detail and also making sure I'm eating every hour even though my appetite is poor and drinking plenty of water as well as electrolytes. That way if I have to go back to the hospital I can show that none of these issues are caused by dehydration or blood sugar issues from not eating.

Electrolytes help my heart rate a bit; some days it's almost back to normal. I don't feel as bad as when I first went to the hospital, but I'm still very weak and poorly and it's a struggle to keep my heart rate down.

I start getting terrible chills every day. Like, cold-to-the-bone, can't warm up even under a pile of blankets or in a hot bath. I never run a fever, but the chills are every day and last several hours usually. I always sleep with the fan on even in winter but can't run it now because I'm so cold all the time.

My heart rate goes back to 140+ bpm standing at my sink washing my face. I'm also having shortness of breath and chest pain at this point. I update my boss, and she says she thinks it's time to go back in. She offers to meet me at the hospital to help me advocate for some tests that might find something (she wants them to do an echocardiogram, which is an ultrasound of the heart, and blood cultures).

Hospital runs some more labs, and does an echo. Doctor says structurally my heart looks good, but he's seeing what might be an indication of pericarditis (inflammation of the sac around the heart). It causes a brightness in that area, and while that can sometimes be caused by flashback on the monitor, he says that coupled with some of my symptoms makes him comfortable giving a presumptive diagnosis of pericarditis. Standard treatment is a week of high dose ibuprofen for the inflammation, and I'll also be put on acid blockers to protect my stomach.

[glittertomb]

(There’s a fun exercise for expelling negative energy in bold font at the bottom if you don’t have the time or energy to read all of this)

I’ve been trying to live my life by the seasons more… such as shopping for seasonal crops, decorating my home festively, changing my altar with more regularity, following the moon and different celestial periods more carefully, celebrating holidays and practicing rituals instead of letting them pass me by, preparing myself and my space for upcoming changes, and fully immersing myself in different activities for the current weather… ✨so✨I decided to have a little Mabon celebration last night even though I’m in the middle of a chaotic move and torn between three places.

I spent all day methodically cleaning and preparing my new space, which was both coincidental and intentional because I’m unpacking boxes and cleansing myself of stuff I don’t need and organizing the things I do need in an aesthetically pleasing but functional way. And when I tuckered myself out I went into the backyard (yay, I finally have a yard 🥺🙏🏻) to commune with nature and eat wild apples while keeping an eye on my exploring housecat. Then I made an eggplant, cauliflower, bok choy, ginger, and green pepper stirfry to enjoy with my sister and her boyfriend (and he made onigiri which was so so tasty), and we drank witches brew and watched the live action One Piece and it was really cozy and cute. But now I’m getting to the part I’m really excited to tell you about! It starts out a bit sad but gets good, I promise.

I have a lot of old trauma that’s manifested itself in awful ways into my body such as chronic pain, chronic nausea, vagus nerve issues, and crippling anxiety, and all of this has recently culminated into the worst my health has ever been. Unfortunately, I was so deep in medical debt from surgeries, doctor appointments, medications, natural remedies, coping devices, therapy appointments, and disorder testing for almost 10 years (which sadly amounted to neither answers nor reprieve), that I couldn’t afford more care or to take time off so I could try to heal, so I was not only still suffering but feeling completely hopeless. On top of all of that, I just went through half a year of horror because I moved in with an old, dear friend who turned out to not be so dear as I thought and he was manipulative, moody, narcissistic, codependent, judgmental, filthy, and disrespectful of my boundaries, so my hair was falling out in clumps due to stress and I wasn’t taking care of my body because I was genuinely afraid to use the bathroom, kitchen, and other living spaces. This friendship loss was really discouraging because I’ve had to let go of both of my best friends this calendar year as well for reasons I don’t want to go into, but let’s just say that they were both habitually selfish, inconsiderate, and emotionally immature, so even though I love them and miss them terribly I had to move on. As if that were not enough, my job was taxing physically, mentally, and emotionally, and was not respecting my scheduling or disability boundaries, and because of staffing issues I felt obligated to work these ridiculous 12+ hour shifts because no one else could or would. All this to say that I felt like a broken-down, miserable, rotten, and weary version of myself and had lots of bitterness, hopelessness, negative energy, and old trappings to release myself from; so moving into a new space right at the change of the seasons would be a perfect time to do it!

What I decided to do when I went back home after dinner was write a list of things I wanted to expel, and I encourage you to do so as well! This can be bad habits, old mentalities, feelings of self-doubt, relationships that no longer serve you, just anything that’s holding you back from the life you want to live. I noted where I would experience sensations in my physical body as I wrote these things down (for example, as I was writing to you above about these friendships, I felt an ache in my chest and a burning sensation in my arms and throat), because that’s where the body is internalizing these feelings and where you’ll have to do extra work in the release process. Now it’s time for the fun part!

First, I played Shake it Off by Taylor Swift and danced, focusing on literally shaking off the old energy from parts of my body where I was experiencing negative physical sensations. I think this song is a great place to start because you can feel pretty silly doing this at first, but the whole vibe of this song is “who cares about looking silly and who cares about what the haters think”. I’m kinda my own biggest hater and have a ton of self doubt, so I actually had to go for a second round of this song until I started feeling comfortable enough, and hey, that’s okay!

Once I got into the grove, I played Dust Me Off by Tilly & the Wall and continued to dance, shake my body, and dust off all the sadness, fear, doubt, anger, hurt, and anxiety that I’ve been holding on to for so so so long. I’m allowed to forgive myself for old transgressions. I’m allowed to move on from ancient painful memories. I’m allowed to put down old habits, feelings, friendships, and places and open myself up to new ones!

Now that I was really releasing, it was time to get spiritual with Shake it Out by Florence Welch. I shook, I spun around, I flailed, until I cast off the “devil on [my] back” and let myself sway to the end of the song. It was cathartic, it was healing, it was soothing, it helped me work off that cookie I had after dinner, and afterwards I had a really wonderful sleep and woke up feeling more empowered to take on the day.

It was such a good exercise that I wanted to share it with everyone and I will definitely be revisiting it next time I’m feeling stagnated, overburdened, or depressed. I’m going to continue in the spirit of Mabon today with a little bit of tea, meditation, and maybe even decorating my altar with some early-autumn leaves, so don’t feel like it’s too late to try this just because Mabon was technically yesterday. 😊🍁🧡

And p.s. Feel free to message me other songs about shaking out the old or dusting off bad feelings. I’m inspired to make a playlist.

P.p.s. It’s in a little bit of a different vein but I just remembered Sweeping Spell by Faun Fables, which is about sweeping out old energies and cleaning up your home while you prepare for the dark season. 🧹🧹🧹

P.p.s.s. I first learned about releasing trauma through physical movement when reading The Body Keeps the Score, but that book is a bit tiresome and the author is a problematic old man, so I will post a list of better books to read on the subject soon 💜💜love yous and I hope you experience more peace after doing this!