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#endorphin Pain killer
bodyalive · 9 months
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[Leila L'Abate]
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scarefox · 1 year
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The straight forwardness, not shyly talking around the subject, is such a nice fresh breeze I miss in regular BLs so much. Also the different views and experiences. Alone in this short talk 👌
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larchraven · 10 months
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libingan · 2 months
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period sex with ghost???? sign me tf up!!!! it’s been such a long time since i last wrote any fanfiction, so forgive me if it’s dogshit im just rusty
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a loud groan escapes you as you doubled over, another wave of pain rolling through your lower abdomen. pressing a hand against your stomach, you feel the familiar dull ache that had become a monthly companion.
they weren’t that bad earlier in the day, but by the afternoon, that faint discomfort had transformed into sharp, persistent stabs that made it difficult to concentrate on literally anything else.
you’ve tried pain killers, heating pads, every distraction you could think of, but even the slightest of movements exacerbated the cramps, sending jolts of pain through your body.
simon, your loving boyfriend, had been trying his goddamned hardest to help you through this. eventually, after one particularly bad outburst from you — which he won’t hold against you, you were in pain — he opted to stay still, letting you cuddle up against him as you groaned out in pain.
unbeknownst to you, simon had been on his phone, searching up more ways he could ease your suffering. he scrolls through each website, seeing the same results over and over and over again.
that is, until, he sees the words ‘an orgasm can alleviate menstrual cramps’ on his screen. for a moment, simon just… stares at his phone. he’s not against the idea, but considering your earlier outburst, he’s unsure of how he’s going to bring it up.
in the end, he decides with a simple ‘fuck it’ and speaks, “says here orgasms can help relieve your cramps,”
you blink up at him in surprise, knowing the implications behind your lover’s words. “does it?”
“yeah, it does.” he flips the phone over to show you his screen, letting you read the article yourself.
something about endorphins… “feel good” chemicals… natural pain relief…
“…we’ll make a mess.” you say.
“i’ll get a towel.” simon replies.
“don’t you think this is… well, gross? i mean, it’s blood…”
“is that a serious question?” simon asks with an incredulous expression, raising a brow at you.
upon seeing your embarrassed expression, simon lets out a sigh, placing his phone done on the nightstand. “listen, love, if you don’t want to, and you think this is gross, we don’t have to do it. all im saying is that im more than willing to help you out.”
you let out a sigh of your own, biting the inside of your cheek as you mull over simon’s suggestion. your cramps hurt like hell, and if orgasms really do help…
“i’ll try anything once, i guess…” you mumble, and simon wordlessly gets off the bed to grab two towels from the closet.
simon spreads both towels on the bed, on top of each other, beckoning you to lay on it. “took two, just in case one isn’t enough.” he explains, crawling over to you.
“are you sure this is okay with you, si?” you ask, reaching up to gently cup his cheek. simon instinctively leans into the palm of your hand, pressing a kiss to your wrist. “should be askin’ you that, lovie. this okay with you?”
“if it helps get rid of these damn cramps, fuck yes.”
that’s all it takes for simon to lean in, one hand slipping behind your nape to pull you into a deep kiss. his free hand slides downwards, tugging at the hem of your shirt, eager to slip it off. the two of you pull away from each other to make quick work of discarding your clothing and throwing them to the floor… or wherever they end up landing.
simon takes a moment to appreciate your body, eyes raking up and down, the tip of his tongue darting out to lick his lips. he gently grabs onto your thighs, pulling them apart to leave more space for him to settle in between. “gonna take these off, okay?” he says, hands moving to toy with the waistband of your panties.
“okay, okay, take them off,” you mutter, legs instinctively shutting the moment you’re left bare. simon clicks his tongue at that, pushing your thighs apart once more. “you hidin’ this pretty pussy from me?”
he gazes down at your cunt, feeling a rush of heat flow through his veins and straight to his cock. simon lets out a low groan, parting your lips apart to expose your sensitive bud.
simon wastes no time and dives right into it, licking a flat stripe on your clit, flicking his tongue against the sensitive bundle of nerves. he revels in the way your legs twitch, the breathy whines that leave your lips.
“simon… simon, oh…” you moan, hands tangling in his blonde hair, holding his head down. this only encourages simon, wrapping his lips around your clit, lightly sucking on it.
he keeps his eyes focused on you the entire time, watching the way your chest heaves and how your back arches into a perfect bow. the sight of you completely lost in the pleasure has his cock throbbing and he can’t resist grinding against the sheets with a few grunts.
simon knows you’re close with the way your legs start clamping down his head and how your hands tighten around his hair. he places a quick kiss to your clit before pulling away, eyes gleaming with his desire and need for you.
a needy, high-pitched whine escapes your lips, but simon softly shushes you, promising a world of pleasure if you behaved. “be patient, love, gonna give you what you want in a bit.”
he reaches out to the nightstand, opening a drawer to take out a condom. simon quickly rips the wrapper with his teeth, hastily rolling the rubber around his cock.
with a careful hand, he brings his hand down to grab the string of your tampon, slowly pulling it out of you.
“jesus…” you muttered, face scrunched up in disgust as simon grabs a few pulls of tissue paper, wrapping it around the tampon and tossing it somewhere he can’t really be bothered to care about.
“simon! if that stains our carpet, i swear to god…”
“i’ll clean it up later, damn it…” simon grumbles, one hand grasping his cock as he positions himself against your entrance. “you ready?”
you sigh, wrapping your legs around simon’s waist. he takes that as a sign to keep going, slowly pushing his dick into you.
“jesus, fuck…” he curses, hissing as your warm walls envelop his cock so deliciously. “so fuckin’ tight…” simon murmurs, leaning towards you, lips finding their way to your neck.
once he bottoms out, simon takes a moment to enjoy the feel of you around him. “feels so good ‘round me, love,” he whispers, nibbling gently on the sensitive skin on your neck.
“move, si,” you nudged him, and simon wordlessly obeys.
he starts off with slow, shallow thrusts, letting you get used to his size before gradually picking up the pace.
simon glances down, admiring the red ring around the base of his dick, the blood staining your labia and a bit on the inside of your thighs. a low groan escapes him at the sight, hands holding onto your hips as he readjusts himself, fucking deeper into your cunt.
“makin’ a bloody mess on my cock, love… literally…” he teasingly whispers. you had half the mind to smack him for making such a joke, but with the way his cock fills up your pussy so snugly, you can’t find it in yourself to do so.
“s-si! feels—feels s’good!” you mewled, head thrown back in pleasure, your hands twisting around the sheets below. sex with simon is always good, but right now? you feel like a virgin being touched for the very first time.
simon reaches down to draw circles on your clit with his thumb, groaning as your gummy walls clench down on his cock. “y-yeah? you gonna come for me, love?”
“yes, yes, yes, please-!” you moan out, eyes squeezed shut. the additional stimulation on your already sensitive nub brings you closer to edge, and you’re damn sure simon can tell, especially with how your sounds seemed to have increased in volume.
“come, let go for me,” simon pants, his own orgasm fast approaching. “come on, love, come on,” he coos, his hips stuttering as he circles his thumb faster.
that’s all it takes for you to tip over the edge, eyes rolling into the back of your head, mouth hanging open as a loud moan erupts from your throat. your walls clamp down so tightly on simon’s cock, drawing his release out of him.
simon gently takes his hand away from your clit before laying on top of you, crushing you with his weight.
“how do you feel? still cramping?” he asks, burying his face into the crook of your neck.
“no,” you reply, lifting a hand to gently scratch simon’s back, “thank you,”
no words are exchanged after that. just you and simon basking in the afterglow. that is, until, you remember the fact that you’re still on your period.
“you’re cleaning everything up, simon. this was your idea.”
simon pulls away, exhaling a heavy sigh. “yes, ma’am,”
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a-killer-obsession · 3 months
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Ache [Heat x Reader]
🔞 MINORS DNI 🔞
Your muscles are aching, and Heat offers up his naturally hot hands to massage away the pain.
CW: mutual pining, smut and fluff, massage with a happy ending, Heat is shy, oral (reader receiving), p in v sex, creampie, afab reader, gn pronouns
WC: ~2.5k
Masterlist || AO3
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The other commanders watched you with concerned curiosity as you leaned over the table to present a newly drawn map, only to audibly wince in pain and retreat. You weren't sure if it was all the fighting recently, or if your mattress needed replacing, or if maybe you were just getting old, but your muscles had been aching recently. You'd taken pain killers, you'd had hot baths doused with salts, hell you'd even tried jerking off to get that natural endorphin rush, but nothing seemed to help the deep tissue pain in your shoulders and back.
“You good [y/n]?” The captain asked in a teasing tone.
“Yeah, sorry just,” you rolled your shoulder in the joint and rubbed at the muscle that ran over your shoulder blade, “sore, is all. Muscles been aching recently”
“You taken pain killers and all that?” Killer asked.
“Yeah, nothing seems to help,” you sighed, resigning to sit down and let someone else move the map to the middle of the table, “it's fine, I'll go get a massage or some shit at the next island, I'll be fine”
The other commanders looked at you with scrutiny, but they knew better than to accuse you of being too weak to work through it, even if they all wanted you to rest.
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A few hours later and you were returning to your room after a hot shower in the shared bathroom, hoping it would ease the pain. The hot water helped for a while, but like clockwork you were sore again by the time you got out. Your door was slightly ajar as you approached, and your mind immediately jumped to anger that someone was snooping around in your shit, only for your mood to one-eighty to confusion when you reached the door and found Heat sitting nervously at the end of your bed. He startled as the door creaked fully open, jumping to his feet and looking at you like a deer in headlights as you stood in the doorway in a towel, another wrapped around your wet hair.
“Sorry! I uh- I knocked, but you weren't here and uh, the door was open and um,” Heat babbled, looking anywhere except at you, “Killer said I should help you, with your sore muscles, cos um- cos I have warm hands, he uh- he said that would help so I was just waiting for you to come back”
You were a little taken aback by the sudden word vomit, his hands raised in defence, or perhaps in example that yes in fact he did have warm hands.
“So you're here to… give me a massage?” You questioned, finally stepping into the room and closing the door behind you. Curious, curious. Killer knew you liked Heat, but did he also know something about Heat that you didn't? Or was Heat just trying to be a good crewmate? Either way, Killer was right; Heat ran immensely warm thanks to his abilities, and his hot hands on you would definitely help with the pain.
“Alright then,” you hummed, surprising Heat with your easy acceptance of his offer, but even more surprised when you removed the towel from your head, then opened the other and laid on the bed with the towel only draped over your ass. His breath hitched as he realised he was completely alone in a closed room with you, and you were completely naked under that small strip of fluffy fabric. “Well?” You asked after laying there for a moment and hearing no movement, “come along then, my shoulders are fucking killing me”
“R-right,” he stuttered, climbing onto the bed and kneeling next to you. His hands hovered unsurely for a moment before they finally met your soft skin, a small shudder running through each of you at the contact.
His hands ran the small distance to your shoulders, wrapping around them and kneading the muscles with his warm hands, making you hum against your arms where they were crossed in front of you, your head resting on them. The pressure was uneven though, he was clearly inexperienced, you wondered if Killer had given him a bootcamp lesson before sending him this way for him to know how to move his hands at all.
“Heat, sit on my thighs,” you suggested, “you'll be able to put more weight into it, more evenly”
“Oh, okay,” he mumbled back, shifting carefully and straddling your legs, hovering awkwardly above them, gotta leave room for the holy spirit I guess. His hands returned to your skin, the pressure now more even just as you had hoped.
You both stayed silent for a while, Heat's hands working their way down your back, working through the muscles and kneading his warmth into them. It felt incredible, not just because the pain was easing, but because you'd wanted Heat's hands on you for so long, they felt just as good as you'd hoped. A moan suddenly slipped through your lips as Heat encountered a particularly tightly wound knot in your muscle, and his hands quickly pulled away, thinking he'd hurt you somehow.
“Nooooo,” you whined, “put em back, harder”
Heat almost died hearing you tell him to go harder, and his dick definitely listened. He struggled to not let out his own sounds as he found the knot again, working it with the heel of his palm while you moaned underneath him. A small fuck escaped him, and was not missed by your ears. It sent electricity straight to your core, knowing that touching you was affecting him as much as it was affecting you, if not more given your moans. You couldn't help them, his hands just felt so damn good.
Knowing it was having an effect on him, you decided to play it to your advantage. Heat was usually so reserved, if you ever wanted him to make a move on you this may well be your only chance. His hands continued to move as the knot came loose, but you didn't let up on your sounds, letting out small whimpers and sighs as his hands moved down, till they reached the towel where the curve of your ass began.
“My legs hurt too, Heat, will you massage them?” You asked sweetly, so very innocent, voice laced with honey.
“Of- of course,” he shuffled down the bed, now kneeling at your feet. “Your… whole leg?”
“Mmm… feet too,” you purred, bending a leg at the knee so your foot hovered in front of him invitingly. You heard a small whine escape him as he took your foot delicately, his thumb tracing over the skin on your sole before pressing in. His other hand worked at your other foot, both hands working in unison. He could have touched your feet forever, god he wanted to, but he didn't want to arouse your suspicion that this was anything more than him just helping you, he didn't want to spook you by making you realised that he loved touching you, and he longed to do more. Fuck, so much more.
His hands worked their way up your calves, pulling more moans as he found a new knot in one, working through it diligently with both hands before returning to working on both legs at once. His hands moved up and up, fondling your plush thighs, his dick throbbing in his pants as the towel was slowly pushed up and he realised if he moved your thighs just right he could get a peek at your folds. His hands met the apex where your thighs met your ass, his thumbs dangerously close to swiping against your labia, god if he just went one more inch.
Not wanting him to stop, you reached back and pulled the towel away, revealing your juicy ass, bare and begging to be touched. His hands were still again, staring at the curve of your rump, and you looked back at him and batted your eyelashes. Shit, that look alone made him want to drop his pants and fuck you brainless. Shaky hands moved further up, taking your ass with two large hands, gathering the flesh and squeezing as you let out a moan, and he let out a stuttered breath.
“Mmm… Heat,” you mumbled, raising your hips from the bed, your legs parting just a little, revealing your slick centre to him. “Touch me more, please”
“Fuck,” he breathed, more audible this time, as his thumbs swiped experimentally against your labia, tugging them and spreading them open, revealing just how fucking wet you were. “Fuck, fuck”
“Touch me~” you whined, raising your ass higher, spreading as far as you could with your legs trapped between his.
He ran two fingers between your folds, gathering the slick on your cunt and rubbing it between his thumb and fingers, admiring the silk. You looked back and watched him put the fingers in his mouth, sucking the juices from them, his eyes shut and his brows furrowed, groaning as he tasted you. When he looked back at you his eyes were pitch black, blown out with lust and need, and it made you moan and arch your back for him, inviting him, begging him to take more.
Fistfulls of ass in each hand, he spread your cheeks wide and dove his mouth between them, letting out a long satisfied groan as he swiped his tongue through your wet cunt. You made a high pitched keen and buried your head in the pillows. Damn walls broken, he touched and groped at you freely, hands running up and down your legs, over your back, under your slightly raised torso to fondle your breasts and tug on your pert nipples. He lapped and sucked at your clit, your hips bucking and rolling on their own will with the pleasure, one hand travelling back up your soft stomach to replace his tongue with his thumb so he could bully the hot wet appendage inside you.
“Oooooh fuck, Heat,” you mewled, “oh that's so fucking good”
He rolled your clit between his fingers as his tongue thrusted in and out of you, impossibly hot against your inner walls, moist breath pooling around your asshole as his nose pressed against it. His tongue was so thick and strong, his fingers rolling around your clit and pulling your coil tight till you couldn't take anymore and it snapped without warning, every muscle in your body going taut then loose as you shuddered and moaned into your pillow, clawing at the sheets while he continued to eat you out. He never ceased his efforts, not for one moment, till you finally relaxed and let go of the sheets you'd been pulling tight on. Your abdomen fell flat to the mattress, panting and whining while he admired your ass and ran strong hands up your thighs.
You weren't done though, you were aching for more, aching to feel him inside you. You reached back, trying to feel for him, using the heels of your feet to push him towards you till his clothed erection was flush with your ass. You let out a needy whimper, pressing back against him, his whole body seeming to shudder at the motion.
“Want you-” you whined, clawing blindly at the waistband of his pants, “pleaseeee~”
“I- I can't,” he groaned, grinding against your soft flesh but refusing to let himself take that last step.
“Why, why?” You nearly cried, so desperately in need of him, confused and hurt at his unexpected rejection.
“Because I can't just do that and go back to just being friends,” he admitted, a sadness to his voice, “I want to so badly, I can't- I can't just have you and forget about it tomorrow”
“So don't,” you whimpered, “please Heat, please, I want you so bad. I've wanted you for so long, please”
“You have?” He stilled, his breath held tight in his chest, his cock throbbing painfully, screaming to be buried inside you, “you… you want me? Like that?”
“Yes,” you cried out, “please Heat, please, take me, I'm yours”
Before he could let his mind get away from him with doubt, he pulled his pants down enough to let his cock spring free, and he pressed the tip to your weeping entrance. Your hips raised and wiggled as much as they could with him straddling your thighs, searching him out, trying to take him in.
“Please, please,” you whimpered, “yours, only yours”
He let out a low whine as he sunk inside you, and you buried your face in the pillow again to muffle the loud moan that escaped you. “Yes, yes, yes, yes,” you mewled as he started to thrust in and out of you, your tight walls pulling and pulsing around him, warm and wet against his aching cock. It was taking everything in him to hold back from immediately dumping his load inside you, letting out whines and grunts against your back, as he alternated between pressing his forehead to it and kneeling straight up to fuck you with his full strength.
“Mine, mine,” he groaned against your back as his posture faltered once more and his hot breath made sweat bead on your skin. “Fuck, gonna- gonna cum soon”
“Hnnng, cum for me Heat,” you moaned, your coil pulling tight at the mere thought of Heat filling you with his seed. He could feel the fluttering of your approaching orgasm and doubled his efforts, his thrusts erratic and desperate and deep as he bit down on his lip hard enough to taste iron in an effort to keep himself from cumming before you. He didn't have to wait long though, your pillow muffling the mighty scream you let out as your walls clamped around him, his legs shaking and his balls throbbing as he suddenly let out his own stuttered groan and painted your insides white, his movements not letting up as you milked him dry, every last drop spilled deep inside you and forming a creamy ring around his cock where it met your cunt.
Not until your inner muscles loosened did he finally let up, collapsing against your back with his cock softening inside you, hands either side of your waist to support himself from crushing you. You made a swift motion to pull your body forward and release him, rolling over to lay on your back and pulling him down by the neck to crash your lips against his. The scars on his lips grazed pleasantly against your soft pink mouth, his tongue devling in and rutting against yours, tasting yourself on his wet appendage as it explored every inch of yours.
He pulled away to breathe, both of you still panting, lowering himself to bury his face in your shoulder, your arms pulling him flush against you and fisting in his hair, scratching his scalp soothingly and making him whine.
“You really-” Heat huffed, his breath tickling your skin, “you really want me? For more than just sex?”
“Yeah, I do,” you purred, nuzzling into his soft blue dreads, relief washing over you in your afterglow that you finally had Heat in your arms, and he wanted you, “I have for a while”
“Does Killer know?” He asked curiously, “Is that why he sent me in here?”
“Yeah, he knows,” you half laughed.
“Fuck,” Heat snorted, “now we're gonna have to name our first born after him”
“I hope not,” you laughed as Heat rolled off you and pulled you with him to lay on your side, and he admired the way the skin around your eyes crinkled when you grinned, “Killer is an awful name for a toddler”
“Thank god you agree,” Heat smiled back, the scars on his face stretching with the muscles, his eyes twinkling with mirth, “little baby Killer, that's just asking them to be born with swords in their hands”
“Oh GOD,” you laughed, unconsciously closing your legs and cringing at that mental image. Heat erupted in a fit of giggles, that turned into another round of hot, muscle soothing sex. The rest of the crew didn't see either of you for the rest of the day, though they certainly heard you both.
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samkerrworshipper · 11 months
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losing | leah williamson x reader
lol i based this off of a sermon that i listened to this morning lol so enjoy! also loosely based off a multitude of requests i’ve been sent x
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You’d never felt more heart broken in your life than you did in this moment. Looking out at a crowd of people you didn’t know, a crowd of people that were feeling a fraction of the disappointment you were. You’d collapsed to the grass as soon as the whistle had blown, your heart shattering into a million pieces on the pitch. You’d worked your ass off, your whole team had worked their asses off, and yet you’d still fallen short, it still wasn’t enough.
You couldn’t even really make out the crowd, the overwhelming disappointment that was covering your lungs and clouding your brain stopping you from being able to feel anything besides your own body, the feeling of your stomach dropping, the feeling of your lungs breathing in cold air that burned in your throat and the pure dread that you could feel in your heart with every pump that it did, the disappointment in yourself spreading throughout your whole body through your veins and blood. You’d never failed like this, hell, your debut for the Lionesses had been the home Euro’s, where you hadn’t lost a single game. You were the youngest Ballon D’or winner, you were a golden boot winner, you were so much better than this, your team expected you to be better than this, Sarina expected you to be better than this.
The tears streaming down your face hurt, they hurt to push out and they hurt dripping down your face. The burning sensation of the cold wind mixing with the liquid dripping down your face steadily. Second was always the first to lose. That was something your parents had always told you growing up, no matter what sport you were playing, second place is always the first to lose, and there is nothing worse than losing. You’d never really been a loser per say, your debut senior team had been Barcelona, who were soaring in the Champion’s league, every week was a victory. You’d hardly lost with the Lionesses, and the one game that you’d never been able to comprehend losing you had, you’d lost.
A few minutes went by, of you lying by yourself on the pitch, you could hear the Spanish team celebrating, the women bathing in their victory. That was about all you could hear, the feelings of disappointment being enough noise for your ears. It was like that for a little while, your brain busying your body with enough thoughts, but then, when the adrenaline started to wear off and the real effects of the game started to set in you felt it all come crashing down. Suddenly you could feel everything, from your teammates crying a few metres away from you, the Spanish women celebrating, to the crowd that surrounded you. Everything was too much for you, the tears on your face, the oxygen in your lungs it was all too much, you couldn’t be here, you were a failure, a disappointment, a burden to the whole team. Your tried to stand up from the pitch, but you were humbled by the fact that you had just played a whole 90 minutes of football and on top of that you’d been on the receiving end of a slide tackle that had managed to hurt your ankle, enough that you probably shou;dn’t have stayed on, but it was the World Cup, you would play with a broken leg if you had to. The adrenaline and endorphins had been enough of a pain killer, but now your body was cold and no longer riding on it’s high, everything hurt, from the hair on your head to the stabbing pain that was shooting up your leg from your ankle.
Your feet squelched in the grass as you limped across the pitch, making your way over to the team huddle that was congregating. Your boots long forgotten, laying somewhere on the pitch, they didn’t matter, nothing mattered any more. You let Georgia and Alessia wrap their arms around you in the huddle, you tried your hardest to listen to what Sarina was saying, but it was clear her words were falling on deaf ears, all of you girls as equally gutted as each other, you could hardly stand on your ankle, you could hardly think, let alone really take in the words of the Dutchwoman. You were supposed to win, supposed to be here to make your parents proud, to make everyone proud, and instead all you could feel was the overwhelming fear that you’d let them all down, that instead of making them all proud like you were supposed to, you’d failed them.
You were taken from the group to do the presentations, the silver medal around your neck just another reminder than you had lost, another reminder that you’d fallen short. Lucy and Keira tried to give you a hug, the same with a lot of your Barca teammates, but you weren’t in the headspace, you had to remind yourself to breathe every few seconds, you didn’t have the capacity to do much more than that.
Georgia lead you back to the changerooms, tears leaking from both of your eyes as the two of you made your way down the tunnel, the both of you just eager to be away from the cameras, away from everything. The change rooms were silent, the only sound to be heard was the very faint noise of the music coming from the Spanish rooms, the only sound that could be heard in the locker rooms was the sound of crying, coming from a series of people, sobs filling the air. You managed to limp your way to your cubby, pushing yourself into the space and folding into yourself, your whole body giving out, this wasn’t how it was supposed to be, this wasn’t how this whole month was supposed to end. You’d given everything for this world cup, and yet it wasn’t enough, it was never going to be enough.
A few of the vets came over to comfort you, Millie, Rach, Lucy, Keira. All of their words though, meant nothing to you, you were a failure, as far as you were concerned you’d failed them and it was killing you.
You stayed in your cubby, unmoving, unmotivated to do much more than pray that a random black hole would appear and suck you up right now. It didn’t. Instead you stayed shivering, crying in a mixture of sadness and pain. You stayed that way, until a certain injured England captain sat down in front of you, her eyes soft and a few dried tear tracks on her face.
“Hey sweetheart.”
Her voice was so quiet, so soft, so gentle. You pursed your lips, you didn’t deserve that, didn’t deserve her kindness.
“Leave me alone.”
Your voice was weak, and any of the aggression you were trying to direct towards the woman was lost in the insecurity you were feeling.
Leah leant down to your toes, her warm hands clutching onto your freezing toes and warming them up slightly.
“C’mon, the bus is about to leave, let’s get you back to the hotel.”
You shook your head blindly at Leah and she frowned, she knew it wasn’t going to be an easy job trying to get you out of here, Millie and Rach had warned her that you were gutted and that even their words hadn’t been able to get through to you.
Leah leant down, collecting the majority of your things from your locker and throwing them into your kit bag. Once she was done she looked back at you, acknowledging the fact that you had not moved a centimetre from where you had been before her ministrations.
She sat down as close as she could get to you, her hand falling to your bare knee cap and squeezing it.
“I know you don’t want to leave, but we have to, I’ll come on the bus with you if you want, and I’ll stay with you tonight, Georgia can room with Less and Tooney for tonight.”
You nodded at her quickly, you needed Leah tonight, you didn’t necessarily think you deserved her but you would take her offer up.
“C’mon then, let’s get you on the bus.”
Leah lifted her hand off of your knee, offering them to you as an assist to get you standing. You took them, allowing Leah to lift you from the bench and putting you on your feet. Your groaned almost immediately, the shooting pain across your ankle chilling you to your bones. Leah lifted you up by your armpits, slinging one of your arms around her shoulder to lift the pressure from your sore ankle. She stopped your sliders down on the floor, allowing you to step into them before beginning the walk out of the tunnel and towards the bus.
The bus was close to silent, all of your teammates piled in. There was a lot of crying, a lot of sleeping and a lot of wide eyed and quiet girls. You slid into a window seat, Leah following you and sitting beside you on the aisle. Her hand fell to your thigh, you didn’t say anything, didn’t look at her, just kept your eyes on the city as you drove through it on your way back to the hotel.
The mood was quite similar as the team made its way off the bus, all of you slumped over and slugging your way through the lobby up to your rooms. As soon as Leah closed the door behind you everything broke for you, everything you’d been feeling for the past few hours came crashing down on your like a freight train. Your ankle hurt. You were a failure and you didn’t deserve anything that Leah was trying to give you.
You’d let her help you out of your uniform, and even though she’d seen you naked thousands of times and studied you more intimately then anybody else, standing in front of her nude whilst she fished through your suitcase for clothes was so raw. It made you feel like she could feel and read all of your thoughts, it was a kind of vulnerable that you’d never been exposed to before. You shivered in front of Leah and if she took notice she didn’t vocalise, she was almost clinical in her job of redressing you, no stray eyes or hands, she gave herself a job and she achieved it fairly quickly.
Once she had finished you collapsed onto your bed, tugging for the shitty hotel duvet and pillow as your comfort. Leah slid onto the bed beside you, lying down on her side next to you, her hand coming up to rest on your face.
“I love you no matter what, I know this sucks, I know it’s rough but you played so well sweet and you couldn’t have done much more, it just wasn’t meant to be.”
Leah’s words stung, you weren’t used to losing and she knew it, especially not at this magnitude. You had never experienced losing a important game on a national level, you’d never experienced losing a grand final and you were still only 21.
“I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve for you to love me. I lost, we fucking lost, I could have tried harder, could have centred those shots, could have done better. I don’t deserve any of this, Sarina should fucking fire me, I was hopeless on the pitch.”
Leah’s face deflated, the accolades that you already had accomplished were insane, you were one of the best players in the world, and you were only 21. You were running with the big girls, and a lot of the time she forgot that, forgot that you were still only a kid.
“Y/n, you did the best you could, and you were exceptional on the field, you couldn’t have done anything else. Win or loss you are deserving of love, no matter what happens you are deserving of love. You are only 21 sweetheart, 21 and you have already won two champions league finals, a home Euro’s and a Ballon D’or, not to mention the golden boots and other awards you’ve accumulated. You are beyond what anything would have ever expected, you are exceptional and Sarina knows it, everyone on the team knows it. Without your goals and efforts this tournament the team wouldn’t have gotten as far as they did, you deserve to be loved for that and also for being you.”
You couldn’t help the tears that begun to steadily resume their flood down your face, Leah reached her hand up, wiping the tears and opening her arms to you.
You threw yourself into her arms, rejoicing in the warmth and support it provided. Leah was your captain, she was your bestfriend but she was also your girlfriend, something that you’d missed so much over this tournament. She was right, you were still only 21 and spending a month away from the woman, only seeing her after games or on days you had off. Sarina had told the team that she wanted no distractions, and you were never going to disobey her, but it had taken a part of your heart being away for Leah so long, normally you were glued to her side.
“Why do you love me when I failed, why do you still love me when I fucked up?”
Your words were spat out between sobs, sobs that were falling into Leahs shoulder, the space of her body you’d chose to find solace in.
“I love you no matter what sweet, I know that’s hard to believe, but no matter how much you fuck up on the pitch I will always love you, I will always be here for you, rain or shine you are my everything and that’s all that matters.”
Leah’s words were solid, she knew how much you needed her affirmations, that you brain was betraying every piece of self worth she’d tried to instill in you during your time together, when you’d gotten together you’d been a shell of a player, a kid with a whole lot of talent but absolutely zero confidence in herself. She’d tried her very hardest every single day to prove to you how worthy you were, and she’d had a lot of advancement with you,but there were bad days, bad moments, setbacks. This was one of those setbacks, one of the moments where the olderwomens heart broke for you, broke for the fact that your parents had been so hard on you from such a young age, that they’d made you feel like you only deserved to be loved when you were succeeding. It aggravated her, watching as you fought with yourself every single day to convince yourself that you were deserved, that you were worthy of being loved and cared for.
“We lost.”
You words were hardly words, mere broken syllables that Leah managed to piece together, it was significantly difficult considering all your words were muffled by her hoodie, but she managed.
“I know, I know and it sucks. We’ve got the nations league coming up though, there’s that. Or the Olympics next year, and the next World Cup and Euros. You have such a bright future my love, this is only the beginning.”
She heard the way you deflatedly exhaled into her hoodie, your body was well and truly spent, tired and overworked to the bone. Leah knew that, knew you’d been stringing yourself thin and she was so glad that she now had you in her arms, that she could look out for you now instead of observing how much longer you had left before you burnt yourself out, now that she had you though she wouldn’t let it happen, she would make sure that you were looking after yourself.
“Go to sleep honey, you’re tired, you need your rest with the early flight in the morning.”
She was right, in all of this you still had a 8am flight home. A flight that you’d hoped you’d still be on your high for, instead of being an all time low on.
“I love you Leah.”
Your words were murmured against her chest, your body finally relaxing against her own, making Leah happy that you were finally allowing yourself to be vulnerable with her.
“I love you too my sweet, my little superstar, so perfect just for me.”
She pressed her hand to your cheek, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your forehead and then a quick peck to your lips before angling your head back into her neck, your head finding comfort among the bony expanse.
“I’m sorry.”
Your words were murmured hotly against her neck, your breaths slowly evening out and becoming slower against her skin.
“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, you are perfection my girl and I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you if I have to.”
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wellthebardsdead · 2 months
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So saliva contains a pain killer that is stronger than morphine and has an antidepressant compound in it but we don’t produce a lot of it otherwise we’d be high all the time, it’s called opiorphin and scientists believe it may be a leading cause of comfort eating.
But-
Would this translate to monsters in dnd? Specifically Vampires, and Incubus/succubi?
I imagine it’d work for a full vampire better than a spawn but upon biting their prey their salvia would act as both a numbing and calming agent for said prey. Making it over all easier for them to hold onto and take down stronger and bigger individuals.
But for incubus/succubi, their saliva acts as an aphrodisiac and an over all drug to make their chosen target subservient to their desires. I imagine they’d produce high levels of this chemical to flood their brains with endorphins and because there’s only so much getting their genitals going can do to control them.
So. All this to say, Raphael will not let Haarlep kiss him, in this essay I will-
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jacenotjason · 9 months
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Bob's Endings - Class of 31 AU
(theres art here I swear dont leave) Alright quick explanation: The class of 31 au doesn't have a cohesive timeline. It has multiple endings and possibilities depending on the characters choices. There are technically 6 endings (out of 12 currently, though I do plan to write more!) involving Bob:
all the characters die
they all survive
only one dies (x4)
these are all the endings where they're murdered. I drew them and gave them a little monologue to go with it like it was a Class of 09 ending. anyways enjoy!!
obvious cw for blood, death, cursing.. all that
RADFORD:
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“Have you ever been cold? No, like really cold. So cold that it’s painful. So cold, your fingers turn purple. So cold, your palm gets frozen to the metal floor and you tear off your skin pulling it off. Yeah, that was fun.
Okay, listen, I thought the freezer was a good idea. I was high as hell on Xanax, and when we were all running I knew I couldn’t get far. I could hardly see my own feet, so hiding was my only option. I had two options, the freezer or the garbage chute. I shut off the freezer before I hid in it! Then, it was more like a… moist closet than an actual freezer.
When I heard Bob walk passed it, but not open the door, I thought I was so lucky. Then, the freezer made this sort of… aching sound? I heard the fan turn on and realized he knew full well I was in the freezer.
I don’t know how long it took for my body to actually shut down, I just realized that I couldn’t see my breath anymore, because I wasn’t breathing. I couldn’t move, either. Bob watched the whole thing like it was a cinematic masterpiece. The little window on the door frosted over after a while, but I knew he was still out there.
I’m the reason my friends got away. I was putting on a show for the cannibal and they all found an exit. They don’t even care, I know they don’t.”
STREBER:
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“Woow, who would’ve guessed? Spending the night in a creepy mansion to play Fuck, Marry, Kill after a cannibal escaped prison was a bad idea?
..[Streber drops the bimbo accent]
I’m kidding. I don’t sound like that.
Dying wasn’t that bad, honestly. The pain of getting my arm ripped off only lasted a second, and it was a little fascinating. Once the adrenaline faded, I mean. It was such a mindfuck. I could still feel my arm attached to me, but I could see it in his hand. It’s just a psychological thing, a ghost limb I’m pretty sure, but fuck it threw me for a loop. I bled out fast, the world went dark and then I was dead.
But.. man, what a shitty way to die, right? In a slutty vampire outfit in an abandoned mansion in a shitty town after saving the lives of guys I don’t even like. Assholes owe their lives to me.
I guess this is a good time to get stuff off my chest. Last words, regrets? Hm…
I regret giving Radford bulimia back in high school. Actually, no that was Kevin’s fault, never mind.
I… regret coming to this house in the first place. No, that doesn’t count.
I regret shoving Kevin off the balcony. Yeah. I saved his life, lost mine, and I bet that apathetic mother fucker doesn’t even care. He’s probably upset that he dislocated his arm, but hey, at least you’re still alive!
It’s probably weird to hear me say big words, huh? Hahah...”
ETHAN:
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“ ‘The ultimate possession was, in fact, the taking of the life. And then... The physical possession of the remains.’ Ted Bundy.
…I love that quote.
In a way… Murder is a little flattering. If I could speak or move... I’d thank Bob. Life was boring, my death was interesting. It was straight out of a movie.
I was running, and then the platform of my boot awkwardly folded over, causing me to collapse to the floor. My ankle wasn’t even that bad, but I acted like it was completely ruined. I even did the horror movie thing where you scoot away backward, while the killer slowly approaches you, knowing he’s got you cornered.
I was so giddy with endorphins. As much as I wanted to pretend to be scared, I couldn’t help but laugh. I wasn’t scared, I was overjoyed. Like.. like… when you reach the height of a rollercoaster and you know the big drop is coming… Like when you hang upside down on the monkey bars and feel the blood rush to your head! Singing together with all your friends, all our voices cracking in sync as we reach the hallelujah chorus! Bowser casting his big fucking ring of fire and knowing full well you're not going to beat this boss right now but you’re gonna fuckin’ try anyway! Watching my little sister graduate middle school! Halloween!!
Feeling the cold steel plunge into your abdomen.. feeling your blood drip onto the floor and knowing it's never getting out. Hearing that your body was never found, and only you and your killer know where it is…
It’s flattery. It’s empowering, it’s art… on a certain level, it’s so fucking rad…
..
I’m glad the others got away. I was the only victim... I was special.”
KEVIN:
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“Watching your dad kill himself kind of fucks you up.
I don’t know what happened. I just.. Stopped running. I wasn’t tired, I wasn’t cornered, I just… stopped running from him.
When he found me, I just stared at him. His whole sadistic thing just disappeared… He stared at me, too. If I had the energy, I probably would’ve opened my arms in surrender, but instead, I just stood there with my arms to the side. He got the memo, though…
We were inches apart, and I wasn't scared. I wasn't scared of the murderer looking straight into my eyes.
What fucked me up is just how upset he looked. A murderer, a cannibalistic murderer was staring into my eyes and he looked terrified of me.
After that, he sort of…nudged me against a wall. He didn't shove me or grab me, he just sort of waved me against it and I followed. He slit my throat easily. It was a quick slash, and I was dead. It didn't feel like this was for him. He didn't kill me because he wanted to or because he wanted to eat me. Maybe that's how it started, but it felt like… a mercy kill.
He didn't do anything with my body, either. He let me slide to the floor, then left.
I hope there are therapists in the afterlife.. or like a 4chan message board I can rant on, because what the fuck does this mean.”
one day i will have the courage to share the ending doc ok today is not that day
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aloeboba · 1 year
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Heating pad
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A/N: I'm backish but todomomo has been on my brain this whole year and I'm miserable so I have brought an offering.
Synopsis: Momo can't seem to get rid of her cramps so Shoto volunteers to snuggle
Fluff / University AU / Domestic / Periods / No quirks
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"Momo, are you still cramping?" Shoto asks after a little while of quiet studying, pulling out the pencil he had slipped behind his ear and beginning to scribble something down on a note card beside his laptop, focused on his work.
A soft groan sounds from her place on the bed. "Yes."
He scratches his head with his pencil, looking over what he wrote. "And did you take the ibuprofen I gave you earlier?"
"Yes."
Shoto leans back in his desk chair, hands behind his head as he slightly rocks back and forth. "And you're not feeling better at all?" He turns in his chair to look at Momo and his heart softens at the sight of her snuggled up in bed in one of his hoodies and unfortunately feeling immense pain.
"Oh, I don't know what's wrong with me." Momo groans and covers her eyes, lightly rubbing them with the palms of her hands. "It's been long enough. The pain killers should have kicked in by now..."
He blinks slowly and purses his lips, raising from his chair and approaching the side of the bed. "I've read that endorphins can help get rid of cramps." He lightly touches her knee over the comforter.
"Yes, I've read that, too." Momo replies, still rubbing her eyes. "What do you suggest?"
Before she can open her eyes again, Shoto has quickly and comfortably snuggled up beside her, wrapping his arm over her torso and his body heat already warming her up.
Momo's lips form into a small 'o' shape but she doesn't resist the cuddles or close proximity. He raises his head and kisses her cheek and nestles his face in the crook of her neck. "I mean, it's worth a try, right?"
"And if this doesn't work, we'll go on a walk or something. Exercising is supposed to help as well." He inhales the smell of her hair; roses. Like always.
"Right." Momo weakly nods her head with a small smile.
Her body tenses when she feels another cramp in her abdomen and Shoto feels this, quickly moving his hand down to her lower stomach, brushing his thumb over it for a moment and kissing her cheek again. "You'll be alright." He whispers with a small but encouraging smile.
His hands were either weirdly hot or cold and luckily today they were running hot, like a personal heating pad just for her. Momo let's out a small laugh before musing. "You're the best heating pad..."
Shoto quietly scoffs, pressing his body a bit closer to hers. "I'm your best everything."
She closes her eyes, humming an amused little laugh to which he responds by kissing the side of her head and tracing slow shapes onto the lower part of her stomach. "I guess you're right." Momo finds his other hand and squeezes it affectionately. "...I can't promise I won't fall asleep and I don't want to keep you away from your tasks so if you feel like moving, you can."
"I need a break so it's fine." He presses his cheek against her shoulder. "You sleeping isn't going to deter me from staying. I'd much rather be right here with you than anything else."
Momo turns her head and kisses the top of his head with a content smile. "Then I guess it's okay..."
He nods his head, closing his eyes with her until they both nod off to sleep.
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AO3
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more splatoon au stuff
also if youre going to reblog this please leave me silly things to read/opinions/whatever tf you want. they make me happy
-callie is scared of fucking everything and nobody that she is very close to and shares an apartment with uses this to their advantage and scares the shit out of her because that would be mean and not nice
-marie has more undyne vibes. shes kinda violent but not all the time obviously
-agent 3 (any pronouns, usually they/them) probably dresses like batman
-nobody really knows agent 4 (he/they). he just kinda hangs out and doesnt talk to anyone
-neo (any pronouns) is hyperfixating on pirates. he thinks they are so cool
-callie tends to mediate a lot because marie likes to be mean and people dont like that
-marie is exactly one (1) more traumatic event from becoming a serial killer. i may have overdone the mindfucking with her
-you know how agent 3 got partially sanitized? you know how sanitization removes emotions? yeahhh theyre partially emotionless. callie is really worried and marie kinda resents them because they wont tell her whats wrong and if they dont tell her whats wrong she cant fucking fix it
-agent 4 may or may not have been consistently snapped at during splatoon 2 by a very nervous and angry and generally distressed marie
-sanitization is performed by literally coaxing the emotions (which happen to come in silly little humanoid spirit things that are scientific anomalies in about 17 different ways, ill get into it later) out of a person. the coloring is mostly for differentiation
-unsure exactly how its done but probably something to do with putting the victim into a coma and turning on old drama movies.
-the little ghosties are a whole species and theyre mutualistically symbiotic with inklings/octolings and theyre essentially souls and they have juveniles/adults and all that fun stuff, theyre still being discovered. they feed off of endorphins
-they usually come out when their person dies and if theyre away from people for too long theyll dissipate and also die. or you could just beat the shit out of them that works too
-they are thick liquids that stand up for whatever reason. people cant break their surface tension
-they cannot differentiate between physical and emotional pain
-they also have the potential to travel to different universes on accident when leaving their people
-also captain cuttlefish and octavio are both dead lolll
anyways bye i hate you
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The tv show Dexter is my Roman Empire
I absolutely fucking love the show Dexter and its title character but I’m on my rewatch and ooooohhhh my gosh it pisses me off so bad especially with knowing everything that comes next. And you wanna know why? Because Dexter Morgan was done a terrible disservice. And look I know you have to have conflict to have a show and I love it for the complexities I’m probably reading too far into but its so frustrating to see it all go down. Which if your like me is how you get sucked into wanting Dex to come out on top and get his justice but then New Blood comes in and wakes you up and you’re like left like …. whoa.
Let me explain-
* Disclaimer: this is my personal interpretation of the character of Dexter Morgan in the tv show Dexter, I am in no way a licensed therapist or psychologist but I am neurodivergent and diagnosed with Borderline Personality (potentially ADD and OCD but we’ve yet to explore those in full) and my view is heavily influenced on my own experiences with mental health. This is also not a “oh we should give all bad people a chance” post this is on Dexter specifically thanks *
Before I started my rewatch I was always on how Dexter frequently expresses that he has no emotions or does not have the typical range someone who’s “normal” would. He often thinks on emotionally difficult situations as trivial and he cannot put himself in someone else’s shoes. But he is not void of emotions. He very clearly cares for Debra, Rita, and his children. When Brian is a threat to Deb’s life he is incredibly protective of her, when he’s forced to kill Brian it so visibly upsets him, going through therapy and coincidentally unlocking painful memories, Brian’s death leading to a nervousness that hurts his ability to kill, the pain of losing Rita and his son being left the same way he was as a child, etc etc
Now you might say hey these are all negative emotions but there’s plenty of examples of positive as well. Anytime he receives closure and is put at ease, endorphins released from his addiction to killing, spending any time with his children (I fully believe its not an “act” especially the longer he’s with them), feeling like someone sees and understands him for who he is and accepts him despite all his flaws (the absolute most painful imo), etc etc
A lot of these examples come from the first season alone (also that I’ve seen twice, I’ll update perhaps as I continue) where he has so much potential for healing that I believe gets ripped from him more and more as the show goes on.
It is my firm belief that Harry groomed Dexter to be a serial killer and enabled his negative state of mind therefore ruining any chance at healing from trauma and dealing with a clear neurodivergency he exhibited for whatever sick sort of fantasy he had and could act out through his adopted son. And it pisses me off to no fucking end.
Constantly we are fed as a core foundation of the show and main character that Harry Morgan is who “helped” Dexter live the life of a serial killer. He taught him how to get away with numerous murders, how to avoid police suspicion, how to channel his desires, how to dispose of a body, and most importantly how to fake being like everyone else. He didn’t give Dexter a true chance. You don’t look at a damn child who kills an animal and think “oh he’s gonna be like that for forever so let’s either get rid of him or teach him how to do it safely” (but if you do- fuck you dude), no, that’s a CHILD and in Harry’s case one he KNEW came from a horribly traumatic background. You see a child clearly struggling and you help them. You don’t look at them and tell them that everything they have ever done wrong is part of an evil they will never be rid of.
Dexter looked up to Harry. Dexter and Deb both saw Harry, as most children do their parents, as some super being who knows all and could never do wrong. So when an idol looks at you and tells you for so many years that you are a monster and there is no cure to this darkness inside of you? You believe them. It becomes your identity. Because surely they know everything so why would they be wrong? Why would you question it? You go along with what they say to do and the only relief you get from your trauma is the destructive way you are taught to express it. In Dexter’s case that is taking a life. It doesn’t help that Harry hid so much from him. It doesn’t help that he made Dexter feel as if he was alone instead of getting him proper help and not taking advice from a gosh damned therapist that also grooms children into being serial killers.
Get him into taxidermy or even encourage bloodwork from an earlier age, teach him to be a coroner or mortician or euthanasia tech. Get him someone to listen to how he feels if you can’t do it yourself so he feels heard and seen so he doesn’t grow up thinking that his problems are terrifying so he must bottle them up because no one can handle them. Dexter spends so much time feeling so alone when all he needed for years was someone to just listen to him and not be afraid. And it’s honestly so damn sad as someone who spent so long feeling similarly.
I mentioned I have borderline personality and while I don’t often experience the rage commonly associated with it I do heavily experience depression and anxiety frequently as a result of struggling to understand my connections with others. Similar to Dexter I encounter hardships with empathy and I constantly second guess my relationships with everyone to the point it was so bad in junior high and high school that I began to believe that no one would ever understand me and I would need to keep my thoughts bottled up. I struggled with intrusive thoughts that ranged from self harm to sexual whether it was of me or of others. I find dead things and anatomy fascinating as well as how graphic deaths can occur interesting. I’m not phased by certain things people deem so morbid. Until I got therapy to accept myself and my interests and understand that I am not my thoughts I felt crazy and weird and like I was a square block in a puzzle box. So it is heartbreaking to see Dexter treated like a monster.
I love how New Blood went and I love that Dexter died. I don’t believe as much as I feel bad for him that he “deserved” any sort of happier ending in fact I feel like it fit the story very well. And I above all absolutely loved that Harrison broke the cycle. The show to me overall is terribly tragic and it’s difficult to watch at points because of the statements i have made. But I do love it. It’s very entertaining. Very thought provoking.
And to those who find themself in similar thought patterns to myself or even relating to Dexter as I do- you are not your thoughts. You are not too far gone and you are not any sort of monster for thinking those things. You are cared for you are loved you are seen you are not alone.
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babblingeccentric · 1 year
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I never actually got to writing the smut for the piercing kink prompt yesterday, but I hit my word count for the day and that's whats important. So take this sfw snippet and I'll try and finish the rest at a later date.
Kinktober Day 4: Piercing
You join the crew with a few ear piercings, a helix, a rook, a couple rings in your lobes. Impressive for your island, but nothing compared to much of the crew who are festooned in metal and ink and artful scars under the fishnets. 
You get a delicate stud in your nostril after your first big fight, going down to the cleanest of grubby tattoo shops at your next port. The needle crunches through the cartilage and the endorphins leave you smiley and floaty as you haul anchor to depart.
You show it off at dinner, getting a thumbs up from Killer and various slaps on the back and compliments from the rest of the crew. Captain glares at the new stud though, leaning close and tipping your chin with his huge hand before he finally pronounces it “not terrible”
It’s weird, and kind of possessive, but the Kidd Pirates are weird and kind of possessive so you don’t think anything of it. 
However, he does the same thing the next time you get pierced on shore leave. Another nostril stud this time on the opposite side on the advice of the guy who had done the first one. He had said you had a symmetrical face, perfect for matching piercings on each side. 
This time, after examining the golden stud in your nostril, Kid scoffs and tells you to “take that shit out.”
You protest, telling him “Fuck you! I paid good money for this shit- I don’t care if you don’t like it!” as you kick at his shins.
“Are you fucking kicking me in the shins like toddler?” He asks incredulously as you finish your tirade by flicking him off. “Have some fucking pride. You’re a Kidd pirate. At least punch me or something.”
You ignore that and yell “I paid 8000 berri for this jewelry!” at his retreating back.
Turning around Kid sneers and tells you “You got scammed”
“It’s 16 karat solid gold- I got a deal!” You snarl.
Kidd laughs outright at this, “If that’s solid gold then I’m the king of Mariejois!”
Quincy turns from where she’s leaving the mess and corrects him “Mariejois doesn’t have a king. It’s just got the five elders and world government employees in charge.” 
“Doesn’t matter” Kid says “the point is that’s not fucking solid gold”
“How do you know?” You ask
Raising his hand, you feel a tug on the new stud sending a shock of pain and something else you don’t care to examine rustling down your spine. 
“Solid gold isn’t magnetic.” Kidd says dryly as he leaves
Hop lets you switch it out with one of her old studs, it’s a little long but it's better than letting the hole close up.
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derangedanomaly · 3 months
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Did you know? Tears contain a natural pain killer which reduces pain and improves your mood. It's actually an endorphin, which is why you can tend to feel better after a good cry
- random fact anon
Oh! So that's why...
I should cry more then. 💀
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wint3r-h3art · 2 years
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Can I send some thirst too? Cause I'm an Injured Girly with a fucked up ankle and I have to use a crutch to get around until I can walk normally. Namor imo is totally one to dote on his injured lover to make sure they heal properly :( ❤️ i mean, he'd still fuck their brains out ❤️ with love ❤️ to make them forget the pain hehe ❤️🫡🥴
Any thirst is welcome 💛 also I’m so sorry about your injury. I hope you recover soon 💛
He would be the type that worry and fusses over his lover not feeling well. Probably to the point where he makes you stay in bed all day 🥺 but of course, the greatest pain killer of all is to just rail you to another dimension 🤭
(I mean sex does release dopamine, endorphins and oxytocin—the happy chemicals that your brain likes. Dopamine is known to reduce pain, so takes this lil info as you like 😌)
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jasons-baseball · 2 years
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“I would cry if I could but it does no damn good” - You Gotta Die Sometime (Falsettos - William Finn)
OVER ANALYSIS (Mentions of HIV/AIDS)
A common symptom AIDS is dehydration, meaning that this line could be taken literally to show off how the infection is affecting Whizzer. He is so dehydrated he physically cannot cry. Crying releases endorphins, it serves as a natural pain killer and mood stabiliser. If Whizzer cried relatively often before becoming dehydrated it could be incredibly upsetting to have no emotional release. Emotions are less stable when you are dehydrated so Whizzer would be experiencing emotional distress far past the way he normally does without an emotional outlet.
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sortinets · 5 months
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What’s the best cure for a headache?
fun fact: orgasms can be used as pain-relief, when you orgasm your body releases endorphins which are considered natural pain-killers
...but you could just sleep, drink water and take some meds
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