#i miss when my body allowed me 2 treat it like shit

[tamagotchikgs]

i just woke up n i feel so bad both mentally and physically i dont know whats going on

[yawnderu]

She Wants Me Dead - Miguel O'Hara x Reader | Part I

I support women's rights and wrongs.

cw: toxic situationships, pathetic Miguel O'Hara, femme fatale reader, suggestive situations.

1 2 3

I love her so bad but she treats me like shit.

Miguel knows it's wrong. Hell, he has known from day one she was never someone anyone should ever get involved with. Oh, how he wishes he was strong enough to lock her up and throw away the key that held his love for her.

Oh, take this veil from off my eyes.

''Hey, big guy.'' His body tensed up when he heard the voice coming from behind him. His heart aches. He hates when you do that, showing up all smug as if you don't disappear for days, contacting him only when you need him.

''I missed you.'' He barely glanced down at you, noting how you always appear to make yourself smaller, even more adorable. Your soft, small hands running up and down the muscles on his back before your arms wrap themselves around his waist.

''... why do you do this to me?'' Is all he can ask, turning around and leaning down as he picks you up with ease, your legs wrapping around his waist while your arms hold his neck for support, face nuzzling his neck as you take in his scent. He closes his eyes, trying to focus on anything but the way your body fits perfectly on his.

''Do what? I like you— You're the best.'' A soft kiss is delivered to his jaw and he flinches slightly, breath hitching and neck growing rigid as you keep brushing your soft lips against it. He hates how his whole body language changes to show a degree of submission to you. He, the Spider-Man 2099, a 6'9 beast of a man who can tear through anything with his sharp claws and talons, becoming absolute putty under the hands of a villain much smaller than him.

''You know... You're the only superhero I like. Not only because you give me money— I mean, a big part is because of it, but you also look cool.'' You praise lazily, knowing he'd love any compliment coming from your lips.

''You know what? ... You're my favorite villain.'' I hate myself. His body is still tense from holding you so close, yet he can't help but want you, despite all he knows about you. Despite the way you use and abuse him. His voice is husky, but it's true; he's completely under your spell. A soft snicker comes from your lips, instantly making him roll his eyes.

''How much do you need this time?'' He changes the topic. He has a feeling and he knows you'll ask for a big amount of money, but he wants to hear you say it. He already pays for your lifestyle, yet somehow that's not enough for you, so he bends backwards to please you and avoid anything that can make you angry, upset, or leave. He has the money for it, anyway.

''Hmm... Just around $3000.'' You shrug your shoulders and look up at him with the same cat-like grin that makes his knees weak every. single. time.

''Just three grand?'' His shock is clearly feigned, yet you still snicker softly and his eyes lose a tiny bit of the edge in them. ''if it'll make you shut up for another 10 minutes, I'll give it to you.'' He shrugs his shoulders, acting uninterested as if he wouldn't lose his shit if you actually didn't talk to him for 10 minutes after your return.

''After that, I'll stop for a while. I'm not your cashcow.'' He adds as an afterthought, giving you a sharp look.

''You're not?'' You ask teasingly, voice laced with mirth as your lips brush against his neck again, planting a kiss right on his pulse. ''What if I do this, papi?'' Your tone is seductive, voice barely above a whisper. Miguel nearly stumbles back in surprise, plump lips parting slightly before he regains his composure. It takes everything he has in him to stay still, allowing your warm tongue to lick a clean line across his neck, muscles tensing up under the warm mass.

''You little—'' He can't even finish his sentence, your lips latching onto his neck after his suit disengages just enough to give you space to kiss, sucking on the previously covered skin as you leave your mark.

''Little what...? Little slut?'' You tease, gently licking the mark you made before starting to make a new one right below, being mindful enough to make sure that body part will be covered by his hologram suit.

''... Yes.'' He gasps softly in surrender, a low moan escaping his parted lips as he holds you even tighter, his fingers digging into the fabric of your clothes. He can feel his entire body shake from his knees up.

''When will I get the money?'' You finally let go of his poor, now marked up neck, looking up at him with the same smirk that he sees on his dreams and nightmares.

Miguel takes a second to catch his breath, looking around to make sure no one is near his office before he replies to you. ''When do you need it? Today? Tomorrow?'' His tone is even and businesslike now that he regained his breath.

''Today would be great.'' He brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear, internally slapping himself yet wondering how someone so beautiful could be so evil. So shamelessly manipulative.

''You'll have it by tonight.'' He confirmed, his voice firmer and his expression serious as he looked down at you, still carrying you like you weight nothing— and for a man his height, you don't.

''But it'll be the last time. I'm not giving you any more money after this.'' He adds while looking at one of his monitors, afraid to look at you in fear of his resolve wavering.

''So I'll have to ask another man for money, Miguel...?'' Your tone is controlled and dangerous, though he can hear you feigning sadness at the news. Your hand holds his cheek, thumb right below his high cheekbone as you force him to look at you. ''What if he wants something else from me?''

Miguel bites his tongue and clenches his fists. God fucking dammit. He knows better than this. He hates when you make it all about you, and he hates how he falls for it every single time, as if he didn't know all your tactics by now.

''... Fine. You can have your money.'' His voice is rough, almost a growl, yet he knows better than to argue.

''You're amazing!'' You praise, arms raising slightly as you fake excitement, as if you didn't know he'd relent anyway. He rolls his eyes, a huff of air coming out of his nose as he gives you an unamused look.

''I'm doing what any good man would do, mami.'' Keep telling yourself that. ''And I'm not amazing, I'm a dumbass.'' He knows full well he's being played by you, that you'll turn those comments on him and use them as ammo, yet he doesn't care. The truth hurts either way, so he chooses to ignore it, he chooses to ignore the little voice in the back of his head and he chooses to love you.

''I'm serious.'' You give him an honest smile— something totally different from those teasing and smug grins you give him when you get your way. Just a pure smile that shows you're having fun with him, in a good way.

His gaze softens slightly when he realizes how honest your smile looks, the way it reaches your eyes and lights them up like stars he could gaze at for eternity, yet eventually the sun has to rise, this time in the form of the harsh reality.

''I see right through you, muñeca. I know your game.'' Miguel says, not rudely and his words don't hold his usual snark.

''It was never a secret.'' You shrug your shoulders, clearly not affected by him knowing you're playing him like a fiddle.

''Never said it was.'' The corners of his lips pull up in a subtle, knowing smirk as he looks down at you. ''But you should know that even without all the manipulation and the games... I'd do anything to help you. I'm a sucker for you, mami.''

''You'd do anything for me?'' Of course that's all you got out of his sentence.

''... Obviously not anything. I draw certain lines.'' He answers with pure honesty, trying to make it seem cool despite having you so close to him. ''But you know me. It doesn't take much to get whatever you want out of me.'' My heart is more yours than mine.

The corners of your lips tilt up into the smirk he knows all too well, yet you don't reply, simply staring up at him with your head slightly tilted to the side, examining his features like you have him under a microscope.

''You could have any woman... so why me?'' You ask curiously, the question that has been eating at your brain finally leaving your lips.

''Why not you?'' He turns the question to you, eyebrows slightly raised as he gives you a knowing look before elaborating. ''You're smart, charismatic, beautiful... Why any other woman when you have it all?'' You hum in acknowledgement, thinking about his words.

''Is it tiring? Loving me?'' Your tone is much more honest this time, as if you're deep in thought. His heart fills with fake hope as he sees your honest expression.

''Tiring? No...'' He replies in a whisper, voice rough for a moment as he thinks about it. ''No, mami, but it's hard.'' He matches your honesty, adjusting you so you're more comfortable as he carries you.

''I know you use me, but I still love you either way. It drives me crazy.'' He admits with a soft chuckle, a small smile on his lips despite the hurt in his eyes, showing you just how honest he's with you.

[redbird-tf]

Never leaving

Jason todd x (platonic) reader

Summary: Jason finds out you've gone missing following the escape of Joker. He won't allow the Joker to inflict on you what he suffered. Jason won't stop at anything to bring you home.

Word count: 950

Warning: angst

Jason was furious. he had just found out the Joker escaped Arkham again, but surprisingly that wasn't the main reason for his rage. You had gone missing three days ago. the whole bat family had been looking for you but not a single one had bothered to bring it up to Jason, typical. He had quite the altercation with Batman due to the fact.

“Why didn't you tell me!” He yelled throwing his fist in the bat’s direction. “It’s not like youre around much Jason” Bruce stated grabbing his wrist, Jason pulled back “This is different. You know me and y/n are closer,” he said through gritted teeth. “And jokers back, with her missing, and it's been a week. A goddamn week!” Jason screamed “We are doing our best Jason, i know what you-“Bruce was cut off “And you know if anyone can find him, it's me!” He pounded on his chest “And you'd be out of control!” Bruce shouted “And the last time you decided to do things your way with the Joker, i died. I won't let you do that to y/n. She doesn't deserve that”Jason put on his helmet and sped out of the batcave on his motorcycle

Jason wasn't very close with any of the bat's adopted family but you were different. You met Jason on a mission months after being taken in by Bruce. After that day you asked who he was and his story, and instead of being disappointed you understood. Apart of you agreed with the way he did things but the other half didn't want to disappoint Batman, he understood. You started spending your patrol nights with him and despite his hard-ass personality, you grew closer. You were the only one who treated him like true family. You were his little sister and he'd die all over again for you.

He didn't know what scared him more, you being dead or being alive with the Joker. Jason searched endlessly and picked up a pattern the Joker had left behind. He was holding you at a warehouse, originally clearly. Jason pinned the location and drove as fast as he could. When he arrived he kicked down the door storming into the dark room “You're going to ruin all the fun!” That to happy voice called. “Step out joker!” He yelled pulling out his gun. “Boo hoo, I've nearly gotten to teach her any manners” The joker stepped in front of Jason. Jason wasted no time knocking him on his ass. “Where is she?!” Jason demanded. “Now why would i tell you that? Don't worry I'll return her like new… like you” The Joker started to laugh. A loud bang was heard with silence following. Jason had killed the bastard with no regret.

Jason searched the warehouse calling your name, worry grew with every passing second until he reached the back where he found a locket door. He docked the door off its hinges and entered the room. “Y/n!” He screamed seeing your body weakly curled in the corner covered in blue and red. “Jason..” your voice rasp “Don't speak,” he said placing his jacket over your body as most of your suit had been ripped off. “It's my fault, i went after him alone” you began to cry “None of this is your fault! Now please be quiet and let me help you,” he said grabbing your shoulders. He bandaged what he could and hoisted you on his back, piggyback as he began to walk out.

“Shit” he mumbled seeing the batmobile in the distance. It stopped in front of him and Batman wasted no time making his way in front of Jason “You're late” Jason stated in a monotone voice. “What happened?” Batman asked “Same thing that happened last time, but i stopped it” Jason replied. “You killed him?” He asked “Don't worry, killing him the last 2 times didn't last long” Jason said with annoyance. “Y/ns coming home with me,” Bruce said holding out his arms. “I don't think so,” Jason said making his way to his bike “She needs medical Jason!” Batman yelled “I've learned,” Jason said throwing a mean glare. Jason sat the both of you on his bike wrapping your arms around his waist. “Y/n?” Batman questioned in a stern tone. “Jason..” you said weakly turning away from Bruce. Jason saw the hurt on his face “Call if you need anything” he said to Jason before turning back “Sure”

You groaned regaining consciousness, when you tried sitting up two hands softly pushed you back down onto the pillow “Stay down” a voice called. You slowly open your eyes seeing Jason stitch up your leg. He finished and softly placed down your leg “you might feel a little groggy from the anesthesia” he explained “Where are we?” You asked “My safe house, your safe here.” He said pulling the blanket over you. “Jason, he told me what he did to you…” Jason sighed tucking in the covers “Don't worry about me” he replied standing up. “I'll leave you to get some rest” he turned around but was quickly stopped by your hand wrapping around his wrist.

“I don’t wanna be alone” you whined “I'll just be across the hall” he explained removing your hand “Please Jason, don't leave me now” Your voice cracked and your eyes displayed a fear he knew all too well. He sat at the side of the bed. “I'll be here when you wake up,” he said whipping away your tears, you gave a weak smile before allowing yourself to drift to sleep. Jason gently took your hand into his, caressing his thumb over your knuckles, “i won't ever leave you”

[peakyswritings]

Meet the Ferrante Family

It’s incredible that in less than two weeks it’ll be a year has passed since I posted the first chapter of Heart, Body and Soul. Thank you so much for those who have stuck with me despite the slow updates🤍

Finally, I made a post with the face claims I found for the Ferrante family (although Nina doesn’t have one yet). Are most of them from the Godfather movies? Yes. Do I regret it? No. And note that a great number of aunts, uncles and cousins are missing, but I decided not to introduce them since they are not relevant to the story.

Nina Ferrante is the OC from my ongoing Tommy Shelby x OC series Heart, Body and Soul.

NINA’S FAMILY

Vincenzo and Maria Ferrante

Pietro, Salvatore and Nina’s parents

Vincenzo Ferrante: he runs the Italian side of the business. He’s the oldest brother (older generation). Despite being a very traditional man, he has a soft spot for his daughter that leads him to give her a bit more freedom. In fact, Nina’s the only girl in her family who was allowed to finish school.

Maria Ferrante: she’s a conservative woman, very religious and apparently meek.

Her mother had spent her whole life convinced that all she was born to do was to take care of someone else, without ever being able to make a single decision for herself, or voice her thoughts, and that conviction was too deeply rooted inside her to be eradicated. (Excerpt from CH.6)

However, there’s more to her than she lets on.

Pietro and Salvatore Ferrante

Pietro Ferrante (on the left): he’s the oldest of the Ferrante siblings, and he’s expected to become the head of the Italian side of the family business after his father. He fought in the war and almost lost an arm in combat, and sometimes it still hurts. After the war, he built walls around him.

Pietro, the older one, had almost lost an arm in combat, and even though two years had passed, sometimes it still hurt. But in exchange for the arm, the war took something else away from him. There seemed to be nothing left of his once caring nature, and his innate attention for details had turned into a urge to have everything under control. (Excerpt from CH.5)

Salvatore Ferrante (on the right): he’s the middle child. He fought in the war and returned with a deep scar on his face.

As for Salvatore, the war had enhanced the restlessness that had always distinguished him. He was angry, easily triggered, spiteful. And now he had a deep scar which crossed the left side of his face, making his expression appear even more grim. (Excerpt from CH.5)

Nina Ferrante

Nina Ferrante: she’s the youngest child and only daughter. Her fiery nature and unusual views make her a bit of an outcast in her family. She’s believed to be a witch by many of her cousins and other girls from the village. She rather enjoys the rumours.

There was nothing soft about Nina. She was all sharp edges and searing looks. […] She was outspoken, and defensive, and angry. Angry at her family, whose judgmental stare burned on her skin. Angry at her mother, who had wanted her different since the moment she had drawn her first breath. Angry at her father, who still treated her like a little girl who knew nothing of the word. Angry at Tommy Shelby, who thought he could just barge in and state some claim over one of them. (Excerpt from CH.2)

However, behind the mask, she’s extremely sensitive, and feels everything deeply.

Winston

Winston: Nina found him when he was just a kitten, and took him in without a second thought. He’s a little shit, just like his owner.

AGNESE’S FAMILY

Mario and Rita Ferrante

Agnese, Rosa and Sofia’s parents

Mario Ferrante: he’s the youngest among the Ferrante brothers (older generation) and runs the Italian side of the business alongside Vincenzo.

Rita Ferrante: she’s Agnese’s mother, and has a love-hate relationship with Maria Ferrante. They care about each other in their own way, but are stuck in an endless competition.

Agnese Ferrante

Agnese Ferrante: she’s Nina’s cousin, and the one Tommy is expected to marry. She’s considered the most beautiful girl in the village, she’s soft and kind and probably the only one of Nina’s cousins who doesn’t ostracise her. Being the oldest child, she feels responsible for her sisters. She knows she needs to get married, cause she has no brothers and if something were to happen to her father, which is likely, considering the family’s line of work, they’d have no protection. Of course their uncles would take care of them, but it wouldn’t be the same.

Rosa and Sofia Ferrante

Rosa Ferrante (on the left): she’s the middle child.

Sofia Ferrante (on the right): she’s the youngest child.

OTHERS

Antonio Ferrante

Antonio Ferrante: he’s the middle child of the Ferrante brothers (older generation) and runs the English side of the business. He has two sons, Alfredo (the oldest) and Angelo (the youngest), who are expected to run the English side of the business after their father. Their mother passed during childbirth. No face claims for them yet.

THE SPINIETTA FAMILY

The Spinietta family is another Mafia family who operates both in Sicily and New York. There’s a delicate balance of power among the Spinietta family and the Ferrante family, and they’re struggling to keep the peace. Spinietta has two sons: Vito (the oldest) and Stefano (the youngest). They didn’t fight in the war thanks to their father.

They walked around as if they owned every street, every shop, every person; as if everything was owed to them, because they had money and power. (Except from CH.5)

Stefano Spinietta

Behind the courtesy and the charm, Stefano is actually a monster. He has been obsessed with Nina for years, and recently started pressuring her father into arranging a marriage between them.

Stefano Spinietta was a disgusting person. He was the son of one of her father’s business partners, the boss of another mafia family, which operated both in Sicily and in New York. In the last few years, Stefano had been very clear about his intentions towards Nina, and he had taken too many liberties with her, to the point where she had found herself in the position of putting a knife to his throat. But the threat didn’t have the intended effect; if anything, it only made him more relentless. (Excerpt from CH.3)

Stefano still has a scar on his neck from that episode with Nina.

-

Heart, Body and Soul taglist

@zablife @queenofshinigamis @raincoffeeandfandoms / @justrainandcoffee @call-sign-shark

@kmc1989 @babayaga67 @kmhappybunny240 @diorrfairy @mariaelizabeth21-blog1

@gaslysainz @brummiereader @loverhymeswith @fairypitou @prettywhenicry4

@mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @woofgocows @girlwith-thepearlearring @goblinjnr @outlanderuniverse

@citylights31 @neonpurplestars89-blog @red-riding-wood @evita-shelby

@look-at-the-soul

General tag list:

@iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella @caelys

@lucillethings @peakyxtommy @queenofkings1212 @lyarr24 @kmc1989

@call-sign-shark @jomarch-wannabe @ce1iat

@red-riding-wood @optimisticsandwichgladiator

Tommy Shelby taglist:

@50svibes

[renozman]

BIG JJK SPOILERSSSSSSS LIKE REALLY BIG

This is for the may death never stop you JKK x MHA fanfic by Slexenskee

So it’s 1am for me and I can’t sleep, so I decided to write the idea that’s been sitting in my head for AGES. This all came to me when I realised character heights.

For info:

Hawks: 5’8

Dabi: 5’9

Gojo: 6’3 (!!! Never realised he was that tall)

Endeavor: 6’5

((Ps I’m a sucker for height difference. Through anything (romantic and platonic relationships, if there’s a height difference happening I eat it up).

[Later realised I think I got a thing for tall characters]

So to set the scene.

1) everyone close to gojo is semi aware of his past life, or more that there’s something more to the man that’s kinda other worldly.

2) Some big fights happened, like I mean the level BEFORE the final level big fight.

3) Someone’s hit gojo with a quirk that’s reverted him back to his old form that kinda is his body healed with scars from his death

Now gojos been hit into rubble, so no one can see him, and no one can see his new (well old??) form.

Everyone’s trying to collect themselves, contact help since the villains have fucked off somewhere, and just trying to do damage control (which is hard with busted radios everywhere). Hawks hasn’t been able to find Gojo and he’s worried just a small bit (cos gojo is so strong he can defend himself against anything, but also hawks can’t help but worry for his love).

Hawks quickly meets up with Yui, who he had dumped Eri onto when he had to quickly join the fight.

Him and Gojo had taken Eri out as a treat for the day, later running into Yui when shit went down.

They are trying to collect themselves, figure out what to do about Gojo missing; when suddenly, through the dark of night that’s just being lit from the city lights a man appears from no where.

He’s tall, well built, carrying himself like he’s tired, he’s wearing white baggy pants, a tight black shirt ripped at the bottom ( exposing the thick scar that seems to wrap around his waist), and scars covering the whole of the top half of his body (based of a fanart I’ve seen somewhere, with Gojo having healed). He looks familiar to all of them, but yet alien.

None of them react towards the man just standing there, with him almost standing at Endeavors height. Hawks asks who he is; this causes the tired man to falter a bit. The first to actually move is Eri as she runs at the man with her arms open, tears in her eyes.

“Satoru!”

The man crouches down so that she can run straight into her arms. (Gojo was worried something had happened to her during the big fight). He brought her in close, allowing her head to hide itself into his neck.

Hawks can’t believe it for a moment, but then he sees it. Past the scars, the different height, the different build (his Gojo is more skinny and leaner, while as the old Gojo had to build muscle quickly while locked away [ps I don’t read jjk, just get heavily spoiled a lot. So pls just go with the flow of what I’m saying]), Hawks is able to see that it’s Gojo Satoru, the man he loves.

He later becomes ashamed at himself for not noticing is sooner then Eri.

He quickly runs over to join the small hug.

Yui watches from afar, eyes widening in shock

____

So then only a few hours after that, they have found themselves at Endevours agency. They had managed to contact the other heroes and inform them of the chosen meeting spot, agreeing it was best to move onto the next plan with this big shot villains who are on AFO level.

Of course endeavour is the first one there. He sends Gojo a questioning look:

“What, don’t recognise your own son?”

That gets him slow widening eyes, and shocked silence.

Then the detective and Eraserhead arrive. The repetitive confused silence of them trying to see where they seen this tall scarred man before:

“Are you guys serious. I don’t even look that different.”

Slow widening eyes. Shocked silence.

After that Gojo had found scrap paper to write his name ‘Gojo Satoru’ proudly on it, then stuck it to his shirt with a safety pin. Sitting right on his chest. He sat down back with a huff, and crossed arms (hawks tries so hard to not stare at them. It almost feels like cheating when his man looks like someone else).

Then Deku and Shoto herd themselves in. Shoto looks at Gojo, then his name tag, opens his eyes slightly, almost opens his mouth in shock before he regains his composure. He nods and goes to sit down.

Deku isn’t as quick. His eyes had scanned around the room, at all the people seeming to talk about the event. When his eyes fall on Gojo, he just squints them; he starts mumbling some gibberish about recognising him from somewhere.

Gojo slowly moves one hand out from his arm pit (Deku watches the moments just as slowly), and moves the hands to point at the name tag.

Realisation hits, his eyes widen. Shocked silence. For a difference, Deku blushes (he felt a hint of his old crush return, but he went to squash it quickly).

You get the idea. A lot of people arrive, some not noticing Gojo, while others do and repeat the above process of freaking out over the hot, tall, muscley man brooding in the corner whose clothes are half falling off.

When all might had walked into the room and came to the same realisation, he was almost spewing blood.

For everyone (except the obvious people who ain’t attracted to gojo) the scarred covered man looked very different from Gojo (eyes and hair aside); but he was just as hot (gojo causing crisises again).

That’s all I can be bothered writing for now, might write more later.

The main idea is JJK!Gojo looks very different from MHA!Gojo. I’m going off memory from how Gojo been looking in the latest manga updates of him, which had him drawn bulky (which I love). JJK!Gojo is taller, has a more masculine features happening, bigger bulk, scares all over top half and such.

I def wanna up my drawing skills so I can show u guys how I’m imagining Gojo sitting and sulking, with his horrible name tag just there.

It’s now 1:52 so ima just upload this without looking over it and checking spelling. Thank you and good night.

[phantom-fleetways]

I loved your neo chaos sonic au

If it's okay to ask could you tell us more about it👀👀

Oh! Of course!

Frankly I haven't done much world building for it, since I have other AUs who are utter attention whores and life just LOVES to make me unable to draw for some stupid reason or another. But I do have some simple concepts I would love to share! If you feel like you can bare my aimless rambling, feel free to read the rest under the cut.

First off, setting. Generally speaking, Neo Chaos Sonic's timeline takes place after the events of Season 2's finale and the early portion of season 3's episode one.

But instead of Building Alpha Grim Sonic after a lot of dilly dallying on Nine's part, he decides to fight fire with fire. (And maybe he's a little scared of being alone, although he would never admit it.)

So he rebuilds Chaos Sonic instead. And to insure that he'll be able to beat Sonic, Nine decided to give him untethered access to the Paradox Prism.

This of course leads to Chaos Sonic deeming his normal build being to... Easy to deal with. And he is allowed a modicum of freewill by Nine. So who is he if he does not ascend to godhood to ensure the plan's execution? It's gonna be a temporary upgrade. And Nine did give him full access to the Paradox Prism.

Leading to this beautiful outcome!

It's a MAJOR upgrade. And it comes with a hip skirt! And who is she to go against a hip skirt?

After choosing a new form of befitting of his newly born Goddess status, NCS decides to make the Grim their perfect little paradise. Their powers are simple, as she is all powerful but not all knowing or anything.

NCS can change their appearance however she sees fit. Although due to his vanity, he mostly stays hedgehog robot shaped. And generally before war is brought to her doorstep, she just stands about as tall as NMS would. So they definitely Tower over Sonic and Nine easily. They also can pool liquid metal off of them and when the liquid metal touches the ground, they become Grim Sonic Troopers. All of which seem to reflect different small aspects of her personality. Also she has glitter beams and shit. He's a magical girl, they gotta have their glitter attacks.

After a while of their new arrangement, NCS stops referring to Nine as either "Best bud" or "Sir". And starts calling him Martyr or Prophet. Treating Nine as a prized possession and less like a friend or even someone they wish to protect and keep happy.

Nine isn't initially concerned about this though. Since he's certain that they are still loyal to him. Which is true, he is. But ultimately that loyalty does not outweigh her natural selfishness.

I believe that inevitably, there will come to pass a point where Neo Chaos Sonic decides to "sacrifice" Nine to herself. If only to make Sonic run a fool's errand. If you know ANYTHING about the ending of KH3 and the whole "Save the 7" segment with Riku? Like that. (For those who don't know, imagine Nine floating above an altar of some sort with his body partially transparent blue.)

I don't really know if Sonic and Co from prime would succeed, since I really just designed Neo Chaos Sonic for the sake of designing him. But I would say that in order to take down Neo, Sonic would need to brace the abyss™️ to find Shadow's missing Chaos Emerald. Since I'm a wedger a bet that Shadow would be logically able to use Chaos Control in the prism that Neo Chaos is using to power themselves. Buuut in order to do that, Shadow would have to get close enough.

There is the possiblity that allowing Sonic to shatter himself would fix everything too. But ultimately I have no clue cuz I just haven't thought far yet.

Overall, the AU is very shallow at the moment. And seeing as I have other far more complex AUs I'm working on, it might be this way for a while. So, I'm sorry about that! But I did enjoy rambling a bit, albeit a bit aimlessly.

I just really love this design and I really love how pretty they came out! Neo Chaos Sonic is a treat of a concept to me, since I adore Neo Metal Sonic. Favorite flavor of Mets to be honest. And I figured a Neo form for Chaos Sonic would do them good!

[arctic-hands]

Long ass post about being a sick and disabled child with pediatric imposter syndrome and inattentive and flat out ableist adults ahead. It got ahead of me but there's nothing I want to cut. No I'm not putting it under a read more. Look at my post, boy.

I wonder if my childhood fascination with wheelchairs was based in the chronic pain and exhaustion I was feeling even by the age of seven.

In second grade we had a "disability week" (tho I wouldn't be surprised if they had called it "differently abled" but I can't remember for certain) where we had disabled adults come to speak to our (allegedly) able-bodied class and the school as a whole. The ones i remember were just explaining the disability and a simplified ways to treat it and things like it's rude to stare and such. Not too too glurgy in that out of context...

...but the memories about it are def tainted by the fact that any kid who was sick or disabled was forced to give presentations on their medical conditions to "educate and de-stigmatize" the students.

This wasn't part of Differently Abled Week, we were just forced to present when we just got diagnosed or whenever the condition got noticed by anyone. The first one i saw was in first grade as a fifth grader gave all the individual classes a presentation on her diabetes. I was forced to give one in third grade after I came back from being dramatically rushed to the hospital after my heart started beating so fast and hard that you could see it thru my shirt, and after about a week out of school in another hospital in the bigger city two hours away because my hometown hospital wasn't equipped to treat pediatric cardiac problems. My third grade presentation on supraventricular tachycardia was well-received, and the school was sympathetic because all my classmates and teachers were like omg this angelic little child has a heart condition and everyone was scared that I might die 😢

... Next year's fourth grade presentation on I Shit Too Much Disease was less well-received, even as I tried to self-censor the inherently disgusting details. To add to that, my SVT had been corrected (for a few decades, it appears to be coming back after 2) by an ablation in late third grade, so the Scary Heart Explodey (not really) Disease had been tied up neatly and I was free to live as a Normal Child. But Crohn's disease was something else, something relatively new to the lexicon in the early millennium and I constantly had to explain my health to strangers as the unwilling IBD Ambassador of the town. This would be and still is life-long and particularly hard to treat (my Crohn's was once compared to brittle diabetes in the way it never did and still doesn't respond to treatment), and the sympathy of the ableds is fickle and short lasting. Even just a year after my Diagnosis, my teachers stopped caring WHY I was missing school and sleeping all the time and in the bathroom too long and only saw these as delinquent behaviors to be punished, and my classmates no longer had sympathy for the perceived special treatment I barely got and were convinced I was faking it all for attention

Anyway I'm digressing, but I did need to feel the need to give context to my school's attitude towards sick kids. Back to Disability/Differently Abled Week

...We were allowed to play with mobility aids. Yeeeah. To de-stigmatize of course, totes not to keep us occupied. At one point we played with wooden beads of different shapes to make "hearing aids" and microphones in the style of the day, and each class was allowed one wheelchair, two sets of crutches, and a few arm slings for kids to be assigned to use for half the day.

I had seen these before. There were only a few sick kids in my school and none in mobility aids, but 7 year olds do have some life experience in being in the outer world, and my hometown was a city and not insular, so I had been exposed to disabled people before. My grandmother's best friend was an old lady with a basic prosthetic foot and used a cane, and she was patient and i daresay a little proud to show it off when i was really little and we'd go to have tea/hot chocolate with her and i stared in fascination and asked innocently offensive questions. At seven I hadn't been diagnosed with SVT or Crohn's yet and my intense and agonizing leg pains had been dismissed by my pediatrician as a hysteric and melodramatic little girl's response to "growing pains" (I've stopped growing but still feel them, I'm just used to them enough after thirty years that I barely notice them unless my legs are touched). I knew about broken bones and as someone who still had potent memories of toddler ear infections that were bad enough to send me to the E.R, I had even taken a few rides in wheelchairs.

But being in a wheelchair constantly was a new experience for me, especially as this was a manual wheelchair that you pushed yourself with the big wheels in, not the hospital kind that nurses push for you. The thought of never having to use my legs was an intoxicating thought, and I had childhood delusions of being strong and muscley enough to be able to handle maneuvering it with my scarily emaciated noodle arms.

Aides were assigned by last name down the list, and the teacher just arbitrarily decided which one you'd get. My last name is fairly down the list, so I waited the better part of a week to get assigned, all the while eyeballing the wheelchair enviously as my classmates assigned to it got to play disabled in it. I wondered how to pop a wheelie in it (for the record, my immediate reaction to being given roller skates on my fourth birthday was to immediately try to do a trick jump off the porch and landed hard on my ass with miraculously intact bones and face). But mostly I was fascinated by the thought of never having to use my legs for an entire half a day. I kept my composure at school so not to be labeled a crybaby, but by the time I got home I sometimes couldn't even focus on Pokémon because my legs were too agonizing and I'd be crying. My parents were sympathetic enough to my leg pains that they bought me hot water bottles to sooth my knees and tried to get me to take my mind off it by meditating the pain away (I'm too bipolar to focus in meditation even then but everyone's reaction to my bipolar is another long ass post in the making). But they didn't care enough to advocate for me against my pediatrician, even as he ignored all my other dramatic symptoms that were beginning to become un-ignorable. It took until my heart emergency for any adult (ily Dr. Stein, my pediatric cardiologist who immediately realized I needed more help than just for SVT) to notice the misery I was in and get me the right help (ily Dr. Maizle, my first pediatric gastroenterologist and the only one who actually listened to me when i said some of the meds felt worse than the disease).

Anyway I was assigned crutches when my name was called and i nearly did finally snap and cry at school. Nearly. And the crutches (basic under armpit ones, not forearm crutches) sucked. They were painful in my armpits, they weren't adjusted to my height properly, and I fell a few times because I was trying to swing both my legs at the same time because BOTH my legs were in constant agony and I was trying to alleviate my body's pressure on them both. I had a miserable time "pretending" to be disabled, but I was the only one who complained about the crutches and so I went ignored, setting up the theme for my childhood.

This fascination with wheelchairs stuck with me and as I became a bigger kid and my body just piled on more illness and pain, but despite all that my legs were technically functional so I kept my yearning for a chair quiet for fear of being offensive (didn't know what appropriation meant back then but that was the feeling) and an actual attention seeker like my classmates accused me off. Sure, I was sick and constantly in pain, but at least I wasn't actually "stuck in a wheelchair". Could be worse. At least it's not cancer, after all.

It got to the point that by middle school i was having idle fantasies about being grievously and dramatically injured to the point I lose my aching leg(s) and thus was finally granted a wheelchair. In my darkest moments I wondered how much pain doing it myself would be in the moment, but the thing that snapped me out of crippling (I use that word deliberately) myself was that I genuinely love the feeling of sand beneath my feet and the way beach sand (I wouldn't see the ocean until my twenties, but the artifical lake we went to had sand) felt in between your toes and how my feet didn't ache so much as the hot sand conformed around them. I still kept this quiet because I knew it was crazy and was beginning to realize that I as a whole being was crazy, but I didn't want to be treated as crazy so I kept my fantasies secret.

I've lost the point I was trying to make as I ramble on about these physically painful memories but I'm going to end by saying lmfao I've been using a cane for my pain (to not great success tbh) and have been told I'll prolly need a wheelchair in the next few years. My trepidation about this is totally devoid of any "be careful what you wish for!" karma and everything to do with how infamously inaccessible the Atlantic Coast of the United States is for mobility access. The buildings are all old and pretty and no one wants to ruin the aesthetics of the rowhomes and the shops (except the liquor stores, make of that as you will) don't want to put in the money to add or replace the stairs getting up to the shops with ramps.

This is really dumb even before I started using aides, because EVERYONE can use a ramp while only SOME people can use stairs. And that's not even the end of it, if you manage to get into the shops the aisles are too small to get even a folding chair in between, and no one wants to put in the extra work to rearrange the store to cater to those seeking "special treatment". For years I thought the A.D.A had a grandfather clause that said historical buildings didn't have to adapt unless they renovate and that's why the older cities on the East Coast are the way they are. Nope, that clause doesn't exist. But no one is willing to enforce the A.D.A except SOMETIMES for federal buildings. Even some medical facilities are on stairs with no ramp. Baltimore IS in the middle of a years-long A.D.A lawsuit, but it's only for the absolutely abysmal sidewalks that prevent wheelchairs from going over them at all and makes it treacherous for canes and crutches. I see people in wheelchairs on the road more than I see them on sidewalks because it's the only way to get a wheelchair to move. Baltimore drivers are legitimately and legendarily terrifying. I wouldn't even want to ride a bike (were I still able) in the bike lanes, let alone wheel myself IN a major road. This is going to be a terrifying experience here, unless something very much changes and soon. But will the abled leaders care enough even if they're under lawsuit? I don't feel optimistic. But what choice do/will I have? It doesn't HAVE to be hard, but it WILL be because ableds don't care enough to make even the slightest change to make it easier for EVERYONE if it takes even the slightest bit of effort. See: their collective response to covid

[dead-loch]

FIC: Missing Time

Okay, I cannot believe Deadloch has dragged me back into fic writing. It's been a DECADE. Um. So yeah. I don't fully know where this is going, I'm just following my stupid lil heart. I'll post it on AO3 soon and link it when I do. Happy to hear from people but also I haven't written anything in, yes, a decade, so be kind and all that. This is unbeta'd, the AO3 version may be slightly different once there have been edits. Just a little teaser to hold myself accountable.

Missing Time - I'm really interested in those 2 months prior to Darwin, where the town of Deadloch seemingly picked itself up and brushed itself off. Healing, learning, unlearning, all that fun shit.

"So, Collins. Were you always into women, or was it something you had to work on, like a muscle?"

"I recommend everyone give it a try at least once, see how you go."

"Ah, yeah? I’ve done stuff."

"Oh, that’s good. You’re halfway there."

—

Eddie half-carries Dulcie back to the Haddick Farm, where the women have been joined, finally, by some of the Carnage Bay cops. As soon as Dulcie’s weight has disappeared from her shoulders, courtesy of Cath, Eddie can feel the effects of an adrenaline crash begin, her teeth rattling in her skull as she shivers violently. She takes a stumbling step back, allowing Cath and Dulcie some privacy, only for both women to grip her arms and reel her back in, into the warmth between their bodies. She can feel Dulcie starting to shiver, too, likely the pain from her wound making itself known again.

The three of them stand in silence, breathing and trembling, as an ambulance arrives. They watch as that cunt James is wheeled into the back of it and Eddie can’t stop herself from smiling. She chokes out a laugh, hiding her face in Cath’s shoulder.

“I shouldn’t be so happy to see someone hurt,” Dulcie whispers, biting her lip to hold back a smile. “Are we terrible people?”

Eddie snorts. “Nah,” she whispers back. “We’re… what’s the word. Traumatized. Can’t be held accountable for anything right now. We’re not in our right minds. And that fuckwad had something coming to him, the way he’s been treating Big Eyes.” Eddie squints and catches sight of Abby, watching her ex-fiance yowl like a particularly angry cat as a paramedic slams the ambulance door shut. Once James is out of sight, Abby deflates. “Just a sec,” Eddie mutters, and both Cath and Dulcie immediately let go of her so that she can make her way over.

“Big Eyes. You okay?” She asks, and Abby starts, eyes going impossibly wider, before breathing a sigh of relief once she realizes it’s just Eddie.

“Ma’am,” she exhales, eyes darting over to Dulcie and Cath in the distance. “Oh my god, what happened? Where’s Ray? Are you okay? Do you need—“

“Breathe, Big Eyes. Everything’s fine. Ray… well. Ray’s dead. Went over a waterfall. Impaled on a sharp piece of wood like a fuckin’ kebab.” Eddie feels it hit her all at once and she stares into the middle distance. Feels herself shut down. She doesn’t realize that Abby’s speaking again until she feels someone grip her shoulders and she looks up like she’s been pulled from a trance. Abby’s hands are on her shoulders, strong and sure. “I’m okay,” Eddie mumbles, shaking her head. The adrenaline crash is really hitting her now and she’s cold, freezing, and she wraps her arms around herself to stave off the worst of the shivering. Abby looks at her steadily but doesn’t say anything else.

They stand there like that, Abby’s hands on her shoulders and Eddie’s arms wrapped up around her middle, until Dulcie and Cath approach them. Eddie forces her mind back to the present as a gaggle of cops start watching their little huddle, and she knows they’re going to come over here and fuck everything up any second now. She knows better than to expect any apologies from any of them. She knows better than to expect that they’ll even admit they were wrong, in every possible way there is to be wrong. She holds her breath as one of them takes a hesitant step towards them.

Before he can get very far, though, Commissioner What’s-his-dick is striding over, his hat under his arm, his face scrunched up like he’s bitten into a rotten lemon. “Fuck me,” Eddie mutters, bracing for impact.

“Connell, Radcliffe,” the commissioner barks, and Eddie feels Abby tense and Dulcie’s hand—she thinks it’s Dulcie’s hand— grab her by the scruff of her polar fleece, like she expects Eddie to go charging. “What’s going on here?” He demands, voice booming, and Eddie realizes how much her head fucking hurts, and she shuts her eyes against it like that will shut him up.

Several people start speaking at once. Abby, Dulcie, and Cath, a cacophony of sound that has Eddie flinching away and bringing a hand up to her ear. Fuck. She’s got a piercing pain behind her eyes, all of a sudden, and she’s still fucking shaking like a leaf.

There’s a moment of silence and Eddie knows that if she opens her eyes, everyone will be looking at her. She grits her teeth and after a long second, peels one eye open. Before she can tell them all to get fucked, however, one of the Carnage Bay boys is jogging up to them and intercepting the Commissioner. She recognizes him as one of the Steves.

“Sir,” Steve number who-fucking-knows says forcefully, putting himself between the commissioner and their huddle. “I can debrief you.” He shoots a glance at Dulcie, and then Eddie. She’s not sure what’s happening, and for a second she doesn't think his ploy is going to work. The Commissioner's face is a startling shade of red, visible through the darkness.

"The men are in the barn," Steve says, and the Commissioner allows himself to be distracted by this. Eddie would roll her eyes if they didn't feel like they were going to pop right out of her head. Steve nods at them before pulling the other man away. Eddie stares after them. When she turns to look at Dulcie, she looks bowled over.

“What the fuck just happened?” Eddie asks, surprised despite herself. Dulcie shakes her head, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

[chalkrevelations]

So, I’ve been catching up on podcasts about TLOU during the commute to and from work or while I’m running errands. And I’ve developed this habit that I subject spouse to on a regular basis, which I call “Today On ‘How Dudes On Podcasts Are Wrong About The Last Of Us.’” And this week, I just feel really strongly about a couple of things re: Ep 8, and so all y’all get to be subjected to this week’s installment, too.

(I definitely need to go back and watch all of the show again, because I feel like it’s going to unfold beautifully on a second watch, but I don’t actually have the patience to wait until I get all the way around, back to Ep 8 again, before hashing through this particular stuff, so fuck it, we ball.)

I just feel like I’m listening to a lot of guys 1) being weirdly precious about the cannibalism and 2) missing the point of the cannibalism.

I mean, all of this is with the caveat that I realized a long time ago, I’m kind of missing the automatic cannibalism squick that most people have. I’m not down with killing people specifically to eat them, and I wouldn’t particularly want to eat another person, but I do appear to be more pragmatic - at least theoretically - than about 96.5 percent of the population about the idea that dead bodies are meat, that living people take precedence over dead people, and that if you’re in a starvation situation without other options and Joe next door kicks it, as long as he wasn’t carrying any communicable diseases, I don’t have a lot of practical or ethical compunction about you looking at Joe as a source of protein. All that being said, I’m listening to people acting not only like the cannibalism in Ep 8 is some freaky weird shit - which it is! don’t get me wrong, being in a situation where your only option is to eat people is inherently fucked up! - but that it’s a narrative choice that illustrates a moral and ethical vacuum in this group of characters, which completely misses the point? I’m hearing things like the fact that they didn’t immediately butcher the horse while people are neatly strung up for storage shows that they’d rather eat people, and how voraciously they were eating their “venison” stew shows how they are indelibly marked and changed by eating human flesh - even when they don’t know, I guess - and I’m like, no, they’re HUNGRY. They’re literally starving. That’s why they’re sucking down that stew. And I’m sure they’ll get around to butchering that horse as soon as David’s done terrorizing and molesting Ellie, which brings me to my first point:

The cannibalism is not what makes these people monstrous. What makes them monstrous is that they allow David to openly prey on children the way he treats Hannah and Ellie. What makes James monstrous is that he knows their raiding party attacked Joel and Ellie without provocation and Joel killed their guy in self-defense (don’t start none, won’t be none, m’fkr), and yet he still wants to revenge-obliterate Joel and Ellie. What makes David monstrous is the way he preys on the people in his care and particularly on the children in his care, like Hannah and Ellie. “Freaky cannibalism” is not what makes any of these people monstrous, it only means they’re starving and desperate. What makes them monstrous is their other behavior, that they could control, unlike starving to death if you don’t eat Jim-Bob when he kicks it and all you have otherwise are three cans of stewed tomatoes for a group of 25+ people.

Also, I realize I’m coming at this with hindsight because I’ve finished the season, but particularly if you’ve played the game, I feel like you should see this coming: The narrative point of the cannibalism isn’t about these people at all. It’s not even really about David. The cannibalism is about Joel. Joel has to see those bodies strung up in the back of the steakhouse, Joel has to understand that David and his group are - in Ellie’s words - cutting people into little bits, Joel has to understand that this is likely what they’re going to do to Ellie, and Joel has to see that he wasn’t able to rescue her from that, that he failed her again, that she only survived because she saved herself. Joel has to see those bodies stripped down to meat because it literalizes what’s going to happen in Ep 9, when he wakes up in the Firefly facility and Ellie is gone, and Marlene tells him she’s already headed into surgery - they’ve washed her, prepped her and are getting ready to expertly butcher her, to kill her and strip her down for parts, cut her into little bits, just like those bodies he saw hanging back at Silverlake would be, just like Ellie would have been if she hadn’t saved herself. He’s failed her again and again and again, he told Tommy, back in Ep, what? 6? 7? He fails her again in Ep 8, and she is fucking traumatized. You think he’s going to fail her this last time, if he can help it?

And that’s why, sure, people can argue the ethics of his actions all they want, but the overall story is so very VERY narratively satisfying, because Joel was never going to do anything other than what he did, and that’s what the story is ABOUT. This is the most cohesive story I’ve seen, on a character level, in a LONG damn time.

But I do think part of the ethical argument of whether you do or don’t agree with Joel’s decision should be informed by the fact that David’s group and the Fireflies are paralleled in Ep 8 and Ep 9. Maybe Ellie would have said yes to Marlene, but Marlene didn’t ask - she doesn’t care any more about Ellie’s consent than David did. Is Ep 8 repulsive because it’s happening in the back of a steakhouse and Ep 9 OK because it’s happening in an operating room? You’re going to be all “Ew, cannibalism, beyond the pale” when it’s about desperation and survival, and the meat is (usually, at least) already dead anyway, and a lot of other people would starve to death if you just let it rot, but you’re OK with Ellie, who’s still alive, being butchered to keep other people alive? No - to maybe keep other people alive, because this is all hypothetical, the Fireflies don’t even know if it will actually work? So, if it doesn’t work this time, how many teen-aged girls are you willing to butcher on a possibility? At what point does it become too many? Do we rebuild the world on the bodies of dead teen-aged girls? I submit this is part of the moral calculus that has to be considered at the end of S1, and it’s put into stark relief by what we see in Ep 8.

And that is the point of the cannibalism.

[a-sentient-horax]

November 27, 2023 - Part 2

So I've been asking my boyfriend about what he sees, because he's an honest, third party observer with 5 years of context for this woman and her family. One thing that he said is that he felt like she was acting, like constantly. Which makes sense because (as I told him) it seems like my mom has a vision for how every event in her life should look every time it happens, and it has to like, go a certain way exactly how she expects it. My boyfriend called it being the actor and director at the same time. For example, when we were at dinner, my youngest brother asked her a pretty innocuous question. I can't remember what it was but it was something like "Mom, I want to be a fisherman one day!" We were at a seafood place, there were cool fish things all around us, he's a nine year old boy who just saw a fishing rod and went 'hell yeah.' In response, my mom turned her entire body towards him and like, held his hands in hers. She looks him right in the eyes and in a very serious, slow, incredibly emotive voice she starts talking to him about being a fisherman. "Well [my brother], you would have to work on a big boat, do you think you'd like that? And you'd have to be at sea for weeks and weeks, and most fisherman use a net, not a rod." And on and on in a very serious conversation. It's as if she needs every conversation with her children to be a perfect, manicured, core memory where she is a wise, perfect adult giving them life changing information and advice.

And in a way I feel guilty. I laid into my mom before I cut her off, told her what a horrible monster she was for treating me and my siblings the way that she did. I said awful awful things to her (granted, they reflected my genuine emotions in how I felt about her parenting and how it affected me). But I worry that now she is taking it like, every moment could be the moment that she fucks up so bad that one of her kids decides they hate her. Except I remember her talking to me the same way she talked to my youngest brother, so it's something she picked up before I left and before my sister attempted su*c*de. Also it's like, not what my complaint was. I didn't hate my mother because she flippantly answered my questions without giving much care to what she was saying, I hated her because no matter what I did, it was never enough and I was constantly met with over the top, excessive, controlling punishments that were communicated to me via screaming. I was not allowed a childhood, or allowed to try new things or make mistakes without being met with getting my friends taken away from me, losing my privacy, or being bombarded with petty guilt and irrational outbursts. It's like she missed the point. I don't know. I don't know how I'm supposed to feel about her, and I don't know how I feel about her.

I will write more on my siblings later, but my mother has totally consumed my thoughts while she was here and even after she has left.

The other person on my mind is the Creep. He and I have a project that is due in two days, then I can pretty much finally be rid of him (thank God). He didn't come to class today, and I doubt he has done his part of the project but honest to God I don't care anymore. After this class I am going to finish the homework I have due tonight, and then just work on our project. I genuinely don't care at all if I have to do the whole thing over the next two days I want this weirdo out of my life forever and I cannot wait for it to be done. Our final in this class is next Wednesday and seriously after that I think I will just never talk to him again. I'm hoping to just turn off read receipts for him only and soft block him on everything. I think he sort of knows this is coming by now, or he should, considering how cold of a shoulder I've been giving him.

He's been like, doing this thing where he tells me all the scary shit he's going through right now. The roommate he paid to come down to Texas with him is mentally unstable. He knew this and still brought him to Texas promising to pay for him to live. As it turns out this roommate doesn't always act exactly how Creep wants him to, so he doesn't like him anymore. He lives in a bad neighborhood where there are gunshots and crime, and since he grew up rich he is scared and bought a gun. After I told him I do not want to talk about guns at all, he continued to bring the topic up, now he says he's bought a gun, and he's also texted me that he misses me and I hope I know I'm loved. Again, after I told him I don't like when he uses those kinds of words with me. He's a boundary pusher and frankly I am not the one. Again, after each time that he has pushed my boundaries or done or said something I explicitly asked him not to do, I have gotten colder. For example, he said that he loves me platonically a month or two back. I told him I dont really feel comfortable with that. So he said it again immediately. I told him that I really don't like that he said it again. He said it AGAIN immediately after, and finally I told him to stop. Then when he tried to reel it back "Oh I just thought you wanted..." I just stopped texting him. And now it's like, he's trying to push my boundaries over and over again and when he does I talk to him less and less. I don't understand what he thinks is going to happen but what IS going to happen is we are never going to talk again after this project. I don't care if he learns his lesson or not, I want to get rid of him. My biggest fear is my boyfriend finds all the weird texts he sent me and like, goes ballistic on this guy, or that it affects our relationship somehow. And as I've said before, it's incredibly hard to explain to a man that this sort of behavior from guys is something that I've dealt with my whole life and it's just going to keep happeneing. There are so many creeps and I'm going to have to put up with all of them. It's dangerous to me, to my career, and to my ability to socialize if I don't deal with this in the subtle way that I am: giving him the cold shoulder until I can block him forever.

I also fear that my boyfriend would see the weird texts and take it as a self-esteem hit or something. That like, other guys are texting his girlfriend weird things and he can't so anything about it or I don't know. The last thing I want is for this Creep to also make my boyfriend feel weird. I just hate that he is in my life. I can't wait to wipe him from my phone and move on to healthier friendships.

[loved2]

221122

I’ll just say this month has been heavy as fuck.

My life has been so imbalanced since my birthday (oct 29) which has been frustrating to say the least bc i was very hopeful my birthday would bring more ease and just open up more paths for me. I’ve been putting in so much work this year and i feel more stagnant than ever at this point. It feels like all that work, time and energy has been put to waste. To make it worse, i’m very burnt out atm so i can’t even work on getting this sorted out lmao. Lost everything at the beginning of this year (literally) and it’s insane how i am continuing to lose things i didn’t even think were possible :s.

Anyway i’m so tired of changing, transforming, healing. But there’s no way around it i guess. I’ve been getting so many messages from others about the heavy energy atm. I’m hoping this new moon will lighten things up for us 🤍 I’m not going to recommend to work on yourself for the rest of the year or to complete the rest of your goals/plans or whatever. Just give yourself what you need. Even if it’s sitting around doing absolutely nothing. Let’s stop figthing to feel fulfilled and going after things that will give us temporary satisfaction. Listen to your body. Be kind to yourself. Let go of those fucking people if they’re weighing too heavy on you. Stop trying to be perfect or to “fix” yourself. Stop ignoring your emotions bc you’ve got shit to do. Maybe we just need to release everything instead of constantly taking on more.

Something that keeps coming up for me this week is “the body keeps score”. It absofuckinglutely does. Let us treat our bodies with grace please. With an influx of external energies the best we can do is be strong in our mind and body. The rest will come when it needs to. Let us be present. No more fighting for the future or concerning ourself with the past. It literally doesn’t fucking matter. What are we even here for if not this exact moment.

This time last year i was at my lowest of lows (seems to be a pattern lmao). I listened to Jessie Reyez - No one’s in the room (which i’ll recommend to anyone who will listen) everyday and journaled about it. I was taking 10K steps everyday bc i was going insane lmao. Helped me lose weight which i desperately wanted gone either way so i was happy about that. I was high almost everyday which allowed me to gain so much clarity. I built such a strong sense of self and i finally felt like i knew myself again. Also helped me to start planning for 2022 which went so well bc i started early and clearly knew what i wanted. So that extremely low period ended up giving my exactly what i needed.

This time around its different. I’m sober. Substances don’t give me the clarity i seek anymore so i don’t even do it for fun. I’m too tired to go on walks. People keep messing up my schedule and i can’t really say no bc of difficult (family) circumstances. Finally made some friends then realized these girls are just not a fit for me. Work is so draining and i have creative block. Healing is so heavy and it feels like its getting worse instead of the other way around. My health is terrible eventhough i’ve taken it so serious this year and got lots of consults. Even holistic healing isn’t going well. My family treats me like a slave and also doesn’t notice i’m crying for help but when do they ever lol. There is nowhere i can escape to. Not even my mind. I’ve been praying but it seems no one is listening. I wish my mother was still alive. My meditation practice feels so empty for some reason for the past 2 months. There is a lot to fix to say the least lmao. Either way i’m still optimistic about all of this. I don’t feel like venting everytime i come on here and i hate dropping all of this heaviness here so i’ll end it with this. I miss this space so much and i think i’ll come back soon. I’m using these 30 days to get back to myself in some way. I don’t know how it’ll go. Not working is not an option atm but atleast i’m not putting any deadlines for myself for the first time this year. No routine or plan or whatever. I’m just craving some shadow work maybe eventhough i do that all year long. Maybe a different approach this time. Also discovered i have a BAD food trauma which i need to get sorted out asap. I might also have magnesium deficiency bc no way i’m this depressed and tired. Also breaking ties with anyone who needs to go as if i have any ties to break at all. Doing whatever the fuck i feel like i guess. Trying to eat well. Hoping my meditation will go back to normal. Lots of journaling. Mirror work. Crying. Maybe i’ll do some reading if i can find the time for it. Baking, cooking. I’ll be spending most of day outside like last year but with my puppy this time 🤍 I’ve tried everything so this is my last hope lmao. I’m positive. I’m wishing you all the best my angels. Happy new sag moon, may this bring the expansion we’ve been waiting for 🐚 Btw my puppy’s name is Jupiter lol and her bday is nov 25! My little baby is turning one in a few days. I am going to cry. If there has been one highlight this year, it’s certainly her.

[kunstundpolitik]

Placing pieces together...

Can there be good second parts?

After a breakup that didn't kill me but stop hurting because he came back... we are back at place one and the thing that goes through my mind is.. can second parts be good?

After something around a month without eating, he offered to feed me one day and we started seeing each other again. For me it was love and for him it was probably sex....

The days went by and every time he would start giving me more and more of his time, he wouldn't leave my house for over 3, 4 days and I was feeling in heaven and at the same time I was having my shit together and controlling my jelousy because of course no exclusivity deal was signed...

I started to fell for him again and then after a trip he made with his friends when he was back and the feelings that were bottling exploded after that we decided to give a new try to the relationship ...

I was again the "official woman" but so many girls on instagram were a constant fear to me that he wasn't 100% in like I was, I started to loose my sparkle little by little and accept the crumbs that he once again started to give.

Empathy made me hold long into a relationship where I was giving but not reciving... changes were made but trust was at some point lost...

Substance abuse is never to take light and I started to feel the effects of the substance abuse from my partner, disrespecting me everytime he was high, lack of energy when he was not and just taking more and more of me everytime. He broke my trust and I broke his... I played al the time by his rules, and little by little let go of friends that were there for me for a long time, specially male friends because that would make him feel insecure until one day it happened.... I oppened pandora's box... Discovered that me saying hi to my friends was nothing compared to what he was doing behind my back, and I changed I just wasn't the same...

I tried to hide it and to deal with it, I wasn't eating, I wasn't sleeping, I wasn't happy .. and I was willing to go through hell until my body said STOP! So my body rejected the man I've promised my everything, and that was the moment that he walked away....

At first I felt peace that I haven't felt in a while and while day passed by I would be on a rollercoaster of emotions crying at parties or clubs, at the park, wherever it would hit me and within 2 weeks a new girl came by... his dream come true... an asian woman with big tits and big ass everything I am never gonna be...

I feel betrayed and disrespected, I feel sometimes that I don't want to keep moving forward, but some other times I remember that I was the only guilty of allowing myself to be stepped over and over again.

I don't know where am I standing now, and I don't know where to go from here, but I know that at some point I will understand this lesson and move on with my life...

The man before him told me once that I deserve only the best and that I am a gorgeous woman and need to be treated like that... I feel so sorry that I forgot....

I hate to be always the one ending like this while people go and live their best life... but I'm happy for them...

I really will miss my ex, because I got to see some pureness in his heart that I don't think he is even able to..

The last two partners I had, even though one was sort of only a fantasy ... have made the biggest changes of personality I've had in my entire life... and I can't be anything but grateful for what we had...

Finishing a relationship always leaves you thinking... about former partners... and I wish I had the nerve to reach out to you, maybe someday I will... and if I do... I just hope you answer.

Anyway just ranting here for myself...

[kaddyssammlung]

BPD / C-PTSD / bad relationship dynamics in Sleep Token lyrics - Part 2

Part 1

TW: mental health stuff

The Offering

“You've got diamonds for teeth my love”

Reminds me, again, about how we put our favourite person on a pedestal. And see them as perfect.

“This is a given, an offering In your favour, a sacrifice in your name”

This makes me think about how you end up doing everything for your favourite person. The person you obsess over and you can't be without.

You do everything for them. The fear of them leaving you is so big that you end up sacrificing yourself for them.

Levitate

“And I can tell you won't remember my cracking bones”

And how you love like weapons kill.....

Reminds me about the amount of abuse that I was able to take in without even realizing what it was.

Dark Signs

“Where I was raised, there was no streetlights just pitch black and passing headlights”

I can relate to this. I have a feeling we both grow up surrounded by darkness.

“Most days you reach for safety”

I really feel this line. All of those self-destructive behaviours related to BPD that give you a strange feeling of safety. Or the feeling of being still here on this planet. Because most of the times I just felt gone...dissociated and empty.

“Remain calm, forget that you know me”

My damn ex-boyfriend used to say this to me a lot. “Just forget that you know...forget that we ever met.....you will leave me anyway..” I can see now that he must have had BPD also. Of course I can't confirm this. But I get what he was saying. I thought the same thing.

“And I miss the man I was the moment we left off”

I wish I could say this but like I said...I don't remember a version of myself that I can go back to.

“I won't break and bend to my basic need to be loved and close to somebody”

I did break and bend to my basic need......

It's wasn't a basic need for me, I needed this to have meaning and it was what kept me alive.

“And would you call asking for answers tear my arms off”

Everything depends on what your favourite person does and when they don't respond to you in any way then I would “tear my arms off”.

Higher

“And I know we instigate go back and forth lacerate”

One day I love you the other day you are dead to me. It's not that complicated, okay?!

Okay....it does make sense. I know that it doesn't but that's how it was or sometimes I still catch myself feeling like that.

“And we are exhausted by all this pretending we just can't resist the violence”

Makes me think about my ex-boyfriend again. He lost his shit very fast but so did I. Violence was answered with more violence....let's just leave it at that.

“but each time we battle the blood and the fury takes us a little higher”

First you fight and then you sleep with someone to make up for it...

Not with my ex-boyfriend but with my ex-girlfriend. That relationship was not that bad, though. It was not healthy but not as abusive as the one with my ex-boyfriend. (I just want to say that I'm not bi. I was always a lesbian but so desperate to be with someone that I ended up with a guy. Yeah...things happen. I was an a*shole but so was he.)

Take Aim

“And it sends me shivers How you love like weapons kill”

Because I needed someone to keep me alive. I think that's the best way to describe this feeling. I can understand how this did not look like love from the outside but it felt like love for me.

“Break me apart”

You don't care if someone breaks you apart. As long as you are not alone they can do with you whatever they want. You allow them to treat you like that because you are so afraid that when you don't then they will leave you.

“and you make me hate myself make me tear my body make me yearn for your embrace”

Well...everything that I just said.

Give

“I'll tear the fibre from the filament … I will be watching for your enemies ...”

This whole songs...well....I will do everything for you. Even if this means that I have to suffer but I will do everything for you and please forever stay and may you never leave!

(No I'm tearing up....this is a lot)

“give in again”

That irrational fear of abandonment leads to controlling and obsessive behaviours. And what ends up happening is that you start fighting and then someone gives you the silent treatment. But all you want is for them to “give in again” and let you come back to them.

Gods

“You want to watch me bleed because I bleed so well”

All of this is kind of a cycle of abuse. This can only end by becoming aware of it and understanding what you are doing why you are doing it. At least that's how I see this at the moment. I don't want to end up emotionally abusing someone because I'm scared that they will leave me. Of course they leave when you act like that. Damn it....

Sugar

“and you play a twisted little game but I know in a way you need to complicate”

Get out of my head, Vessel! It's called “testing”. Let's say someone invites me to something and they really like me. Then I say “no” but I actually want to go. I just say “no” because I want to know how they react. Are they like “okay” or are they more like “I neeeeeeeed you to come...please, please, please”.

Say That You Will

“Well I live to guess your sorrow”

I was not able to talk about was going on. I did not really understand it or was fully aware of it. I was aware of it to some extent but also I had trust issues. It's only very recently that I fully understand where my trust issues come from and the role that early trauma plays in all of this.

“You've got me up in a frenzy again”

Losing my shit within seconds or in more clinical terms: being impulsive, does look like a frenzy. It really does

“let the impulse to love and the instinct to kill entangle to one”

I'm kind of trying to erase the instinct to kill.....

Blood Sport

“You're still my weapon of choosing”

I really do turn humans into weapons in a way...did turn them into weapons.

“I wanna be forgiven I wanna choke up chunks of my own sins”

I really do feel like I hurt so many humans....

“Let me pay for my arrogance”

I cheated on my ex-boyfriend with a classmate, female classmate. I slept with her one day. We watched movies and then ended up in my bed.....

No he does not know that to this day.

“I made loving you a blood sport I cant win”

I just feel this.....

I just spent too much time writing this. Now I feel weird.

That's it for today....

[robertdowneyjjr]

hello i love you

1. Mit!boys where rhodey brings tony to an arcade or fair or smth and tony’s like !!!!!!!! bc he’s never been to one before! you can play games for hours? and win prizes?? for playing games???? rhodey you have to win me the biggest fluffiest one 🥺

2. rhodey introduces tony to coffee. not on purpose! he’s trying to help nurse tony’s hangover or he’s accidentally picked up the wrong order from the coffee shop on campus so tony just drinks it and the results are. disastrous

3. i am a suckerrrr for italian!tony so tony digging out maria’s special recipes to impress rhodey and later steve

4. tony has a v stressful week/month and steve treats his man with a bubble bath and a massage and scented candles

hiii i love you too and i adore every single one of these prompts omg 🥺 i’m gonna write the first one for this ask but i’ll eventually tackle all the rest in separate posts!! 💖

---

“Oh my god, is that a carousel?”

Tony stops in the middle of Boston Common, causing Jim to walk into him and almost drop his ice cream cone. He looks at where Tony is pointing, and sure enough, there’s a carousel. Before Jim could answer, Tony grabs his arm and starts dragging him over to the ride.

“Come on!”

They end up riding the carousel six times, Tony insisting they stay on so he can hop on a different seat each time. He’s like a kid discovering something new for the first time, and Jim later finds out that’s exactly the case.

“I was never allowed to go to any fairs or amusement parks,” Tony explains over pizza. “Howard always says I have more important things to do than to play around in a park. I don’t know, I guess that’s the cost of being a child genius. You miss out on a few things growing up.”

Jim narrows his eyes at that. Every time he hears another anecdote about Howard Stark, his urge to punch the man grows stronger. He wipes his hands on a napkin, and with it the unpleasantness of hearing Howard’s name. As Tony changes the topic and starts telling a story about his last run-in with their building’s superintendent, Jim starts brainstorming.

---

For their next long weekend, Jim finishes all his assignments early and drives them almost two hours along the coast to Palace Playland in Maine, a beachfront amusement park and arcade that’s been around since the turn of the century. He came here with his family once a few years ago, when he was a sophomore in high school, and he’s looking forward to sharing the experience with Tony. He watches as Tony shuts the car door and takes in the sight before him, eyes wide and bright and entire body twitching with barely contained excitement.

He gets them both tickets and returns to where Tony is standing near the entrance, studying a map of the park.

“So, where do you want to start?” he asks.

Tony points to the pirate ship. “There! We’re going to try all the rides first, and then the arcade.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Tony grabs Jim’s hand, ushers them through the entrance, and runs towards the pirate ship where a line is just starting to form.

---

Four hours, two corn dogs, three funnel cakes, and one snow cone later, they’re finally ready to head into the arcade.

They step through into the 20,000 square foot space where all the games are located and Tony pauses, taking it all in.

“Holy shit.”

His eyes land on the giant prize counter that lines one wall of the room, then he turns back to Jim. “We can win those? By playing games?”

“Yup.”

“Well then what are we waiting for? Rhodey! I want that giant stuffed platypus. I need it. Show me how good you are at skeeball and get me that platypus!”

Turns out, Jim is garbage at skeeball. But between the two of them, the sheer amount of options in games they have at the arcade, and the three hours they spend there, they manage to rack up enough tickets for the stuffed toy and more.

At the end of the day, they walk back to where the car is parked, Jim holding the bags of prize candy and knickknacks they’ve won while Tony hugs the stuffed platypus to his chest. The toy is so big that Tony has to angle his head around it to see where they’re going and Jim has to keep a hand on Tony’s elbow to guide the way. Tony bumps into a couple cars before they make it to their own, where he straps the platypus safely into its own seat in the back like it’s his child.

Before Jim could start the car, Tony leans across the centre console and flings his arms around him, squeezing tightly in a hug full of gratitude.

“Best day ever,” Tony says softly. “Thanks for bringing me here, Rhodey.”

“I’m just glad I could make you happy, Tones,” Jim responds, stroking gently between Tony’s shoulder blades.

“You always do.”

[i-cant-sing]

Hey I have a yandere erasermic obsession. I don’t know if you do angst but what if they were punishing reader and she gets really exhausted and passes out. They think they killed her, I know this is dumb and you don’t have to do it if it makes you uncomfortable-🍓 anon

Yandere Erasermic punishing reader

I've missed these two a lot😭

Anyways, enjoy! Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Yandere Erasermic:

"Hey! I'm home! How are my darlings- Shou? You okay?" Hizashi asked as he entered his home. He was looking forward to spending time with you and the hero, but judging by the pissed off look on Aizawa's face, it didn't seem like happening.

Aizawa was taking deep breaths, his eyebrows furrowed and face contorted into a scowl. God, what did you do now? Hizashi couldn't help but wonder that, as he slid onto the couch next to his husband.

"What did she do now?"Hizashi asked, resting his head on Aizawa's chest as his arms wrapped around him.

Aizawa closed his eyes in annoyance, his own arms engulfing Hizashi as he let out a huff. "She's so ungrateful."

Hizashi lightly chuckled at that, waiting for him to continue. "You know what she did today? She tried to escape. Again. I don't know how she got the code to unlock the main door, but she opened it. She barely made it 2 steps out the door before I pulled her back in. I was taking a shower and she thought she could make a run for it. " Aizawa runs a hand through his hair, but Hizashi suddenly caught it. He looked at his husband's hand, it was turning a nasty shade of purple, and was red around the knuckles, slightly swelled. "Shou, babe... what happened to your hand?"

Aizawa exhales deeply, closing his eyes, trying to control his anger. "Our sweet little darling happened. After I got her back in, I told her to apologise. You know what she did? She spit at me, screamed all kinds of profanities. When I took her down to the basement to chain her up, she tried attacking me." Aizawa clenched his jaw. "I was only going to leave her there for the night. But what she said to me next... Hizashi, I lost it. I punched her." Hizashi's eyes widened. He knew Aizawa wasn't one to lose his temper easily, he knew he wasn't one to resort to violence immediately. So the blonde could only wonder what in the hell did you say to him. "Shouta... what did she say?" He asked softly, almost afraid of the answer himself.

Shouta looked at his husband, trying to calm himself when he told him what you barked out. "She said...she said that she wondered how UA let... let creeps like us around kids." Hizashi's eyes widened. If there's one thing he knew about Aizawa, it was how deeply he cared about his students, treating them like his own children. He prided himself in being their teacher, and so the nerve of you to even say something so disgusting like that, Aizawa was bound to snap.

"I cant believe she'd say something...so horrible. I'm so sorry, Shou." Hizashi whispered, nuzzling Aizawa's neck. The pro hero only grunted. "Whatever. I think it'd be good if she stays down there... for 2 weeks. Yeah that'd be good. And no dinner tonight either. I don't want to put up with anymore of her bullshit." Hizashi only nodded, but then caught another look at his hand and he stood up, pulling Aizawa along with him to the kitchen. Hizashi pulled out a bag of frozen peas and started applying it on his bruise hand to reduce the swelling.

As the two ate dinner, Hizashi couldn't help but worry that if Shouta's hand looked like this from the punch, then what did the receiving end look like. He chose to remain quiet on that matter, not wanting you to ruin the night anymore.

The next morning when Aizawa woke up, he went downstairs to the kitchen to find his husband. Hizashi who was almost done plating up, greeted Aizawa with a kiss. "So, should I take this plate down to our baby bird?" Hizashi asked, already knowing Aizawa didn't want to see you yet. You had really hurt him. Shouta nodded as he took a sip of his coffee. "Be right back." Hizashi pressed a kiss to his lips before going to the basement.

Hizashi opened the door to the basement, walking down the stairs, hoping to see you greet him like the angel they know you are deep down. But when he got down there, he saw you were still asleep on the floor, your limbs still bound to the chains. Your face was turned away from him and Hizashi wasnt sure if he wanted to see the damage that was done to your face.

Hizashi just called for you. “Love, I’ve brought breakfast! Eggs and hashbrowns! Your favourite!” When you didnt respond, he just sighed before placing the plate on the floor. Your chains were long enough to for you to reach it, and while Hizashi wished nothing more than to feed you himself, he knew you needed to be punished.

As he went up the stairs and out of the basement, he couldnt help but feel a sense of dread creeping up on him.

“Do you think she’ll be sorry after her punishment?”Hizashi asked his partner.  Aizawa rolled his eyes. “Unlikely. But she’ll learn to think twice before she says stupid shit like that.” Hizashi chuckled, but secretly hoped that would be the case. He got up from the couch where he and Aizawa sat. “I’ll go get her plate.” They were done eating 2 hours ago, but still waited for you to finish up because they know how stubborn you are.

When Hizashi walked down the stairs, he wasn’t surprised to find your plate untouched. You would always do that the first few days, before finally succumbing to your hunger. Pointless, really. But what disturbed him was how you were still in the same position he had seen you in 2 hours ago. And it was coming to him how still you looked, he couldn't see your body moving a single muscle, he couldn't see if you were breathing. 

Hizashi walked towards you cautiously, waiting for you to jump up and scare the crap out of him. But his breath hitched when he finally saw what had happened to you. 

A big bruise had formed on your cheek, swelling and taking all the shades of the purple, blue and green. But the worst part was seeing the blood and a clear liquid dripping out of your nose slowly, forming a pool around your head.

He turned you on to your back and started shaking your shoulder. “Darling? Wake up, baby. Its me. Baby, wake up.” But your body remained unconscious. He started tapping your cheek, only then noticing you weren’t breathing. All the alarms went off in his head. “SHOUTA! COME DOWN OVER HERE!” 

Shouta rushed to the basement, wondering what stunt you pulled now. But seeing your limp body in Hizashi’s arms, blood coating your cheeks, he knew something terrible had occured. Aizawa ran towards his partners, looking at your bruising cheek. “She’s n-not breathing. She’s not fucking breathing, Shou!” Hizashi sobbed as Aizawa took your wrist in his hand. His blood ran cold when he found no pulse. “What are we gonna do?! She’s dead! Our baby is dead!” Shouta blocked out Hizashi’s voice. They both cant be panicking right now. Aizawa turned to his partner. “Hizashi. Bring her up. I’ll get the car out.” He commanded. “H-hospital? Shou, its too late-” Hizashi cried out but Aizawa gave him a stern look. “Bring her up. Now.” 

They got to the hospital in fairly record time, passing you over to the doctors while Aizawa made up a story of how they found you in an alley. Only after the doctors left them alone did it dawn on Aizawa how serious the situation was. He killed you, didnt he? You would still be alive if he hadnt hit you. How could he ever claim to love you when he hurts you-

Aizawa shook his head, he could wallow up in his guilt later. For now, he needed to comfort his husband and pray that you make it through somehow.

A few hours later, the doctors had given them an update on your condition. You made it, barely. Something had hit your face and damaged some part of your brain, causing there to be a very slow heart beat. But you're all okay now, since they brought you in time.

When they were allowed to finally go in, thats when Aizawa finally broke down. Seeing you unconscious, knowing he almost killed you, it got to him. Hizashi wanted to console Aizawa, but he couldn't bring himself to leave your side. Hizashi pressed soft kisses to your temples, wiping his tears that fell on your cheek, while Aizawa stood to your side. He wanted to hold your hand but he was afraid to hurt you again. As the duo sat by your side, they made a silent promise to never hurt you again, at least not physically.

After that incident, you'll never be left alone. The two are always breathing down your neck, drowning you in love, looking at you with even more fondness; obsession and protectiveness swirling in their eyes, right there with guilt.

Aizawa would never apologise, but that doesn't mean he's not sorry. You would often wake up to him looking at your bruised cheek with worry, caressing it so gently, as if he'd break you. He'll be a lot more demanding with physical affection, always wrapping his arms around you, forcing you onto his lap and tucking your face under his chin as he cards his fingers through your hair.

You didn't think Hizashi could be anymore overbearing, but you were proved wrong. He'd panic if you were out of his sight for more than 5 minutes. Always worrying, paranoia creeping up on him when you're not in the same room as him. And when he would finally find you (mostly in the bathroom), he'd check you all over for injuries, not trusting your assurances.

Punishments aren't violent anymore. They're humiliating. Pulling you in their laps and feeding you by hand, talking about you as if you're not there, making you take baths with them(not showers because they end too quickly), making you sleep with them, naked.

And the couple won't lie, but this form of punishment seems to be far more effective. With how quickly you turn docile, folding in on yourself as if you could hide from them... its cute.

But hey, its better than getting beat, right?

[quindolyn]

hi love! I’m in love w ur blog, Could u do a marauders smut w an obedient sub james and a bratty sun reader and like punishment w dom remus and james? (sorry if that was confusing)

She’ll Never Learn || Poly!Marauders

Word Count: 3612

A/N: I kinda like this piece, we’ll see. In the course of writing this piece I was delayed a good hour because my laptop died on me and I broke my charging cable earlier today so that’s a whole shit show and I had to finish this on my school computer. That’s how much I love you guys. And a special thank you to everyone who bullied me, I still procrastinated for another 1-2 hours after that.

Warnings: face slapping, words like stupid and slut used, male penetration, exhibitionist kink, dom/sub, degradation, poly obviously, i’m tired please tell me if there’s any that I missed

Masterlist

Part 2

The fact you couldn’t do it was half the fun. For you anyways, the whole thing seemed to make James nervous, he’d broken a few rules here and there before but never had he been so conscious of the disobedience he was about to take part in.

“Our Daddies are gonna be mad if they catch us,” James grumbled as you pulled him up the staircase to the boy’s dorm, dragging him by the sleeve of his school issued button-up. 

Had he put up any resistance he would’ve easily been able to cease your assent up the staircase, his body strong and toned from Quidditch but he didn’t, he allowed himself to be pulled up the stairs to the dorm room he shared with Sirius and Remus.

“Well neither of them have to know, now do they?” You asked him as you opened the door to their dorm which they kept tidy for you, knowing that you couldn’t stand mess.

As you kicked the door closed behind you and toed off your shoes you caught a glimpse of the boy’s face as he studied your form unabashedly as you started expertly undoing the buttons on your top before shrugging it off your shoulders and letting it pool at your feet.

“Come on Jamie,” You cooed mockingly as you strode towards him, his eyes glued to your breasts, “If they don’t know about this then we can have fun, it’s so hard with them sometimes isn’t it, with them getting in the way?” You watched his Adam’s apple bob as you played with the scarlet material of his tie, teasingly tugging on it. 

“But if they find out-”

You cut him off by pulling him down by his tie, melding your lips with his, though he was considerably taller than you he bent all the way down to kiss you, becoming pliable in your hands as you ran your fingers through his raven tresses.

Lacing your hands together at the back of his head, interweaving your fingers with his fluffy curls you pulled slightly, resulting in the man’s mouth to open as a gentle groan tumbled from his lips. You smirked into the kiss, knowing that you had won as you backed yourself up towards one of the beds in the room, you allowed yourself to sit when your knees bumped up against the mattress. 

“Want this off,” You muttered, clumsily working on undoing his tie until you were able to pull it off of him. “This too,” You said, already starting on the top button of his shirt.

Having pushed the pesky garment off of his broad shoulders you took a moment to run the palms of your hands up and down the smooth muscles of his muscled chest. Goosebumps rose under your touch as he leaned in towards you.

“Good boy,” You murmured, throwing your head back against the pillow, knowing that the praise would do just the trick to convince him to break the rules with you. Corrupting him, now that was also a part of the fun for you, little old Jamie would’ve never fathomed doing something like this if you hadn’t convinced him, there was just something so undeniably hot about the way you could so easily manipulate him. The way that with two simple words we was a whimpering mess with his mouth latched on your nipple.

You whined as he lifted his mouth moving it to the other nipple both at the loss of contact and then the new found stimulation.

James didn’t hear the opening and the closing of the door from behind him, too focused on sucking on the delicate flesh of your tit but you did, Remus and Sirius had caught you. Smirking to yourself you realized that if you worked the next ten or so seconds correctly you would be in for a treat. 

“Jamie!” You moaned, dramatically thrusting your chest up into his mouth, “Feels so good when you suck my tit Jamsie, making me so wet.” Deciding laying it on extra thick was only going to help your mission: you wrapped your legs around James’ waist and started thrusting your hips into his. 

“Can you believe these two?” The dark haired man asked his partner incredulously, “Did you give them permission to do this?”

At the sound of Sirius’ voice James jumped off of you, a guilty look gracing his face as he immediately dropped to his knees in front of them, not even wiping the spit from his mouth.

“No Pads,” Remus responded, his eyes on James rather than Sirius, a frown took over his face as he moved his gaze to your half naked form, “Did you?”

“Nope,” Sirius replied, popping his p as he stuck his hands into the front pockets of his trousers, lazily sauntering over to where James sat subserviently on the ground, “Thought you were my good boy Jamie, what happened?” He asked in a sickly sweet sort of voice that had James in a puddle at his feet and you rolling your eyes back in your head, not noticing Remus’ piercing gaze set on you. If you paid close enough attention, the tension radiating off the man was suffocating but Remus had always been able to blend into his surroundings, making it all the more startling when he pounced.

James’ response came in the form of a pathetic little whine as Sirius turned his face up to meet him with his index finger, the boy was malleable in the other man’s grasp. 

“Come on, answer Daddy’s question, don’t be a brat,” At the very mention of the word brat James’ eyes snapped up to Sirius’, that was his worst nightmare, being a brat, failing either Sirius or Remus. It terrified him, and Sirius knew James like the back of his hand. 

“M’sorry, m’so, so sorry I didn’t want to break the rules but (Y/N) said that it would be okay, that we wouldn’t get caught and then she kissed me and-” He rambled, his hands nervously tumbling about each other in his lap, his gaze never wavering from Sirius.

“Pathetic slut,” You swore, stalking off from the bed to where Sirius stood in front of James, “You were just as into it as I was, both of us broke the rules don’t try to back out now, don’t be a bad boy Jamie.”

You opened your mouth to continue but you were cut off by a sharp slap to the side of your face as Sirius’ hand met your cheek.

“Ow,” You whimpered, clutching the side of your face in your hand as you glared at Sirius, taking a step back towards the bed, “What was that for?”

“Oh don’t act stupid, you know that you get punished when you break the rules Puppy. And calling James a bad boy,” His eyes softened as he tore them from you, moving them to gaze down at the boy who still knelt at his feet, “You’re not a bad boy are you Jamie?”

He shook his head silently, eyes locked onto Sirius’.

“He’s acting like one, throwing me under the bus,” You grumbled, still rubbing the side of your face. 

“Did anyone say you could talk?” Remus questioned you, his voice oddly calm as he strode towards you, in no time at all reaching your body.

He raised a hand to the side of your you were clutching, coaxing away your hand to replace it with his own. He ran the palm of his hand over the flesh before pulling it back to bring it against your face, more harshly than Sirius had.

The action pulled a whine from your throat as your flesh was abused by the calloused palm of Remus’ hand. In a second he had adjusted his hand so that it was gripping your jaw, using his hold on you there to tug your entire body closer to his person.

“You really expect us to fucking buy that,” He squished your cheeks together harder and harder with every passing second, “Jamsie has always been our best boy, you on the other hand Puppy, you’ve got a bit of a bratty side to you.”

“It’s not fair,” You tried to wiggle yourself out of Remus’ grasp, moving your hands to grapple at his wrist, trying to pull away from him but he was unmoving, not only being much taller than you but much stronger than you, your efforts were in vain, “He broke the rules too, he’s not your good boy he’s a fucking slut!”

“That’s it!” Sirius’ voice rang through the dorm, still positioned next to James who still sat on the floor now with his fingers entangled in the other boy’s dark curls, “On the bed, now.” His command left no room for argument as Remus let go of your face, but you just stood there, not moving until he gave you a not so gentle nudge towards the bed you had previously been seated upon.

You had to stop yourself from trembling as you sat upon the bed, it wasn’t that you were scared. No, this was exactly what you had hoped for, you were giddy.

“If anyone here is desperate, puppy it’s you, look at this,” Sirius sneered, pushing your legs apart so that your bare pussy was on display, just as you had forgone a bra you had decided to go without panties, anticipating this moment. “No panties,” He tutted, crouching down so that he was level with your pussy as he boldly ran a finger through your sopping folds, “You planned this didn’t you?” HIs eyes darted up to meet yours and with a single glance he knew.

“Course she planned it, Pads,” Remus chimed in from where he leaned against the frame of one of the other beds, “Are you just now figuring that out? Our puppy thought she could break the rules and we’d make her feel good, thought she’d enjoy her punishment.”

As his words washed over you you felt a wave of disappointment, they weren’t going to give you what you wanted.

Sensing your disappointment Sirius recaptured your jaw in his hand, “Don’t pout baby, you’re gonna take your punishment like a good girl, yeah?”

Putting on your best “James face” eye wide and pleading, lips pushed out in a small pout, head cocked to the side you extended a single hand to grope at Sirius’ crotch, squeezing his clothed member in the palm of your hand.

“Daddy,” You begged, knowing that you were breaking another rule, touching them without permission. 

Remus rolled his eyes and was at your side in the blink of an eye, wrenching your hand away from Sirius’ bulge, “You know you’re not allowed to touch without permission,” He scolded as though he was bored with your insolent behavior. “Did you forget?”

“No, Daddy,” You shook your head looking up at him as Sirius’ adjusted so that your head was turned towards the other man.

Remus’ hold on your wrist tightened, “Oh, so you just decided to break the rules?”

You stuttered, not quite sure how to answer his question, “I-I…”

“That’s what I thought,” He spat, letting go of your wrist so that it could land on your thigh, not bothering to look over his shoulder he spoke to James, instead keeping his eyes on you, “Jamie, can you pull up the armchair for me?”

Rushing to obey, James squeaked out a small “yes” before pulling the aforementioned chair to the foot of the bed before redirected by Remus to place it by the side of the bed. You couldn’t help but ogle the boy as he moved about the room, well developed muscles rippling under his skin as he stretched and twisted his body.

“Up,” Remus ordered you with a flick of his wrist towards the chair you were pulled from your seat and dragged to the chair by some invisible force. With another flick of his wrist you were positioned to his liking, legs spread and thrown over the arms of the chair, arms linked together behind your back and as you tried to tug yourself out of that position you found you were immobile. Remus and his fucking talent for wandless magic.

“I’m uncomfortable, Daddy,” You trilled, trying to move in your seat and failing tremendously. 

“What did we say about talking?” Sirius scoffed at you undoing the buttons on his uniform shirt one at a time until he was able to shed his clothing.

“Jamsie, could you grab me a vibrator, the purple one?” Remus asked as he too rid himself of his shirt.

Being the dutiful boy he was, James promptly handed Remus the small clit vibrator who idly played with the switch, turning it on and then back off for a few seconds before his stern gaze lifted to your form and a small smirk graced his face. 

“Pads?” The werewolf turned to look at the boy, “You wanna do the honors?”

Sirius grinned like an idiot as he slid the toy from his lover’s hand, slipping it onto your clit before turning it on, placing a light sticking charm on you as to ensure the toy would stay put. 

“No cumming unless we say so, do you understand Puppy?” Everything about him from the tone of his voice to his eyes mocked you as he spoke, letting you know he was having way too much fun with this.

You managed a small nod but couldn’t help but jolt at the sudden pleasure that coursed through you as the vibrations of the vibrator stimulated your clit. If you had been physically capable you would’ve bucked your hips up but that being impossible left the pleasure to only fester more as the itch to move intensified the ecstasy setting deep in your bones.

Being so distracted by the stimulation on your clit you almost missed as Remus took James’ face in his hands and meshed their lips together, pushing his tongue into the smaller boy’s mouth, Remus dug his hands in his hair. The moan that James released as Remus tugged on his locks must’ve made Sirius feel left out because in a second he was behind the two boys tugging Remus’ face away from James’, interlocking his lips with the taller man’s, he replaced Remus’ hands in James’ hair with his own.

“Daddy,” You whined, not addressing either of them particularly just wanting attention. 

“Shush, they’re giving me attention right now,” James said to you, looking to the other two boys for approval at his show of dominance.

Remus granted such, pulling away from his kiss with Sirius to extoll him, “Good boy Jamie, putting Puppy in her place.”

Getting the approval he craved at all times a gigantic grin cracked across his face, “May I touch you Daddy?” 

“Yes you may, good boy.”

Not wasting a single second, as eager as ever, James lunged towards the larger boy, attaching his lips to his pulse point, gently sucking small marks that bloomed in brilliant shades of blue and purple along the side of his neck.

The distinct clink of metal drew your attention to Sirius where he stood undoing his belt allowing him to drop his trousers, leaving him only in a pair of dark grey boxers which proudly displayed his prominent bulge. 

Sirius didn’t even spare you a glance as he moved back towards the pair, pressing his erection against James’ back while shamelessly groping his firm ass. James threw his head back onto his shoulder, abandoning Remus’ neck as the erection pressed into him and the hands on his ass overwhelmed him.

“Want inside him Rem,” Sirius groaned while he laved his tongue up and down the expanse of James’ neck, “Need inside of him,” He corrected himself.

“You think you’re ready for us Jamie?” The lycanthrope murmured in his ear, “Are you ready to take our cocks.”

Despite your most valiant efforts a moan escaped from your mouth at Remus’ words, watching James get fucked was one of your most favorite things, he was so beautiful stretched out on one of their cocks, a sobbing, moaning mess as he was split in two. But usually you got to touch him, or Remus, or Sirius, or at the very least yourself. 

The idea of not being able to touch yourself was absolute hell. Throw in the vibrator attached to your clit and your explicit order not to cum you were absolutely fucked as pleasure began to simmer in the pit of your belly, making your orgasm seem less and less far off.

You watched, practically drooling, as your boyfriends disrobed allowing their hard cocks to spring out against their stomachs, each distinctly different from the other but completely mouth watering in their own way. Your boys were perfect, all the way down to the tips of their pricks but something about seeing them in all their perfection and not being able to touch them made you a surprising mix of angry and turned on. Especially when you considered that it was them who had put you there, tied up and horny.

“Can I join Daddies, pretty please?” You begged as you watched James situate himself on the bed on his hands and knees, pushing his ass back towards Remus who was settling in behind him. “I’ll be a good girl I promise!”

“You wanna be a good girl?” Sirius mocked, pumping his cock in his hand to get it harder.

You nodded your head pathetically, giving Sirius the best puppy dog eyes you could muster with the haze settling into your mind.

Remus spoke before Sirius could, his eyes focused on the pool between your legs, “Can’t take you seriously when your pretty pussy is on display for us like that, makes you look almost as pathetic and desperate as you are.”

You groaned at the degradation, turning back to Sirius, even if he did agree to free you you would still need to convince Remus but it would at least be a start.

“If you wanna be a good girl you’re gonna sit there and be quiet while you watch us fuck Jamsie.”

Feeling defeated you wished you could drop your head into your hands, but the full body bind that had been placed on you made it hard to so much as blink.

You watched, despite yourself really, with bated breath as Remus pushed into the warmth of James’ opening, having used a lubrication spell to prepare him. The moan that the boy released went straight to your pussy and made it hard for you to think clearly as you watched him drop from his hands to his elbows before Sirius helped him back up so that he could push his cock into his mouth.

Screw waterboarding, this was a special kind of evil, cruel and unusual. With every sound of skin slapping against skin, the wet gagging noises that came as Sirius forced his cock further and further down James’ throat accompanied by the vibrator still stimulating your clit, it had your body going into overdrive to work to suppress your oncoming orgasm to the point where is was painful.

Before either of your three boyfriends showed any signs that they were even close to their orgasms you were screaming, “Please let me cum, I’ll be a good girl I promise please! I’m so sorry, please forgive me!” 

You sounded piteous.

“Shut up,” Remus threw at you as he picked up his pace in thrusting in and out of James, drinking up his moans like they were the only things keeping him going.

“Please, I’m gonna cum I can’t stop it please!” You cried out, tears rolling down your face at the effort it took you to suppress your climax. You weren’t lying, your orgasm was approaching you without remorse and no matter how hard you tried to fight it, it was by far a losing battle.

You held on for as long as you could, trying to use the lights and sounds in the room to tether you but before you were completely overwhelmed by the pleasure boiling up in your stomach and rising up your spine you screamed, “I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry Daddy, wanna be your good girl!”

As most of your orgasms were this one was absolutely overwhelming, flooding your senses with pure, unadulterated pleasure until all you could focus on was the warm feeling that washed over you and the ache in your cunt as the vibrator continued its assault against your pussy.

The added stimulation made it harder to come back as your climax subsided and the noises and voices that had once sounded muffled, as though you had been under water were clear as they reached your ears.

The first thing you heard as the fog began to lift from your head was a familiar but far off voice, “She’ll never learn will she?”

“Doesn’t look like it.”

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