#if i really was lying and just lazy or if i actually had mental health issues then during thd extension i got really bad toothache and coul | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

diffenbachiae · 10 months ago

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hi lizzie. do you have any advice for someone who is very much not on their own side

yes!!! for me it was 3 separate pieces all kind of coming together over the course of the past few years. the first 18 years of my life were a long stretch of ‘if i can just make it to adulthood and out of this house it’ll all be okay’ and once i made it i was very quickly realizing that everything was not, in fact, okay. some of this might not be as relevant for you if you aren’t someone with c-ptsd but for me this is what helped!!

1) If everyone else is a person, you have to be a person too. Things that apply to all people must be true for you as well.

that’s where I had to start because that’s where my self-esteem was- it was really hard for me to convince myself that i deserved to eat, let alone that i deserved friendship, love, or affection. i would have myself come up with Rules for All People. all people deserve enough food to fuel their body. all people have inherent worth without needing to prove anything. all people deserve friends who treat them well. this really helped me confront the hypocrisy in my own brain and helped me see how flawed my own perspective of myself is- it’s really hard for me to think of myself as a person automatically and it’s much easier for me to come up with things i think are true for all humans and then logically i Must be part of that group.

2) Nothing will get better unless you try / you have to trust yourself.

dude i wasn’t even trying for such a long time. i think that a big part of this was my obsession with rescue/found family stories as a kid- i expected a safe loving adult to swoop in and save me and teach me how to be a person and obviously that never happened, but i didn’t realize the fantasy persisted. i wanted my friends to let me tearfully confess my childhood and have that magically make it better, i wanted a picture-perfect significant other to scoop me into their arms and erase my childhood… this isn’t to say that talking about your loved ones with your feelings doesn’t improve things, but that mental health recovery has to be an individual journey at the end of the day. you have to want to get better and work at it. part of this for me was working on not lying to myself. i would think ‘it’s okay that i’m laying in bed for 12 straight hours today, i’ll get up and clean tomorrow’ all while knowing full well i wasn’t gonna fuckin do that for a second. it was always tomorrow, next week, next year, things will be different, but then i wouldn’t take any action to make things different. i started to practice telling myself i would do things and following through. this feels really silly to type out bc it sounds so simple but self-discipline was one of the biggest skills i was lacking and teaching myself it has made a HUGE difference. it’s really hard to learn how to make yourself do things you don’t want to do but if you start small and ramp up it’s way easier.

3) You’re allowed to have fun.

everyone in this goddamn world will try and convince you you can’t have fun and it makes it so hard to stay on your own team. shame is a really powerful weapon of control and it’s so easy to start to internalize it until you feel guilty about EVERYTHING. guilt about eating food, what kind of food, if it was too much food… guilt about rest, about oversleeping, about productivity… idk i feel like there’s a million rules to follow about what my life ‘should’ look like and none of them seem quite that focused on the enjoyment of that life. i started to try and practice looking at my choices with less judgement and more focus on enjoyment. sure i can spend five hours on tiktok and then tell myself i’m lazy and terrible because of it but that doesn’t actually do or solve anything- i’m beating myself up because i feel like i should. what’s more useful is to think ‘did i enjoy that time genuinely? do i even remember any of the videos i watched? did i do that because i get joy out of it or because it’s easier than being bored?’ tiktok is my example because it’s the app i most easily fall into using out of habit and not enjoyment, but i also genuinely really enjoy tiktok when i use it in a specific way (crochet inspo, rewatching my favorite covers of songs… instead of just the FYP)

this ended up being really long rip i hope it’s useful to you anon!!!! please keep in mind i’m not a mental health expert of any kind i am just someone who is too poor to afford therapy and has spent countless hours reading books and online resources in an attempt to not feel like a pit of sadness on a day to day basis lol. please feel free to send me more asks or message me if you want to talk more (this goes for anyone reading this as well!!!!!) ✨💖💖

#also the first step is deciding you want to live. which is a whole thing in and of itself.#if you’re still making that commitment please know that i want you here with us!!!#personal tag #this was very cathartic to type out ngl

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basilleaff · 1 year ago

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vent / about my trust issues in relationships and my past relationships

trigger warnings: gr00ming (being a victim of it) and that’s kinda it. I’m really really scared rn about my relationship I guess, but I know I’m just being paranoid because of my past experiences and

I know my current partner loves me but sometimes I just feel like they’re lying and just really convincing, I feel like they’re just saying that so they can gain my trust and then manipulate or gaslight me, no matter how many times they tell me they love me and say they aren’t lying I can never be 100% sure about their true emotions and intentions. I consider my self to be emotionally intelligent, I’m pretty good at reading people emotions and I often find myself guessing what other people are thinking but there are a few people I find difficult to read, my s/o is one of those people and not fully knowing what they’re feeling or thinking makes me worry a lot. The one I love most has the most control of my emotions because i am most vulnerable with them they can impact my emotions so much. If my partner were to do anything to hurt me or even threaten to leave me they will impact me so much because of how much I love them. I know I’m just being paranoid and it makes sense why. I had an almost 2 year long relationship with someone who never loved me but didn’t want to hurt my feelings so they lied to me for 21 months and waited for me to lose feelings so that when they told me they never actually loved me so I wouldn’t care that much 😃🔫 and then like half a year after after we broke up I started to gain feelings for my older friend and then I got gr00med by him but what happened there is way too much for me to explain and I don’t really want to explain that right now… but the main point about that is the day he left me I vented to him about my fear of abandonment, and how afraid I was that one day he would leave me because I really loved him (I know I shouldn’t have but I did.) Even though I told him how scared I was that he would leave me he left me. 2 hours after I vented about it he left me. He blocked me and we didn’t speak for months. when he unblocked me he told me he had did it on purpose because playing with my emotions was fun. I won’t be explaining that situation any further. (Also both of these relationships were online and very sexual, these relationships are also partially why I’m hypersexual ☺️🔫 DO NOT ONLINE/E DATE) these are most likely why I’m so paranoid and I’m just so terrified that something like those situations will repeat with this person and I’m also afraid of how badly I’ll be effected by it if it did happen.

I just really had to say all this somewhere without bothering anyone. I don’t know what to do and I don’t know if I should ask for advice. I mean I know my s/o loves me but I can’t help but think she’s lying or has some secret plan to destroy my mental health to the breaking point the same way my gr00mer did. (Sorry for any bad grammar I’m lazy and tired. I’m not gonna fix it)

#vent post #vent #trust issues #relationship vent #abandonment issues #anxious attachment

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sl-ut · 3 years ago

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nsfw alphabet

RUE BENNETT

a little peek into y/n and rue's sex life.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Rue is a bit of an oddball when it comes to your sex life. I feel like earlier on in your relationship, she might be a little awkward both during and after you two fuck, and she would probably just lay there with you and only speak if you were to ask her something. Later on in the relationship, however, Rue is a lover of pillowtalk. She loves the domesticity of laying together in the nude and just talking about everything and anything, especially when she’s sober. When she’s high, she definitely just passes out afterwards, which is yet another reason that she’s trying harder to stay sober.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of their and also their partner’s)

As strange as it might sound, Rue loves your stomach. She loves the way you always squirm as she places kisses all the way down to your pelvic bone, and she loves how much confidence it gives you. She’s honestly obsessed with you, and there’s nothing that she loves more than seeing you in a good mood when she knows that you’re feeling good about yourself. Additionally, our girl is 100% a titty lover, and I will not be taking any questions. If she’s not kissing your belly, she’s leaving little bite marks and bruises on your breasts, and nothing turns her on more than the sight of your puffy, swollen nipples after she’s been sucking on them.

Rue really struggles with her own self image. With as much strain that she puts on her own mental health, it would honestly be more surprising if she wasn’t dealing with some sort of body dysmorphia. You always assure her that she’s so beautiful (and you’re obviously not lying), and as much as it helps in the moment, she still struggles to pick one part of herself that she really loves. However, Rue does really like her hair. She loves the way it looks when she actually takes the time to put some effort into keeping it from getting too matted, and she really likes the way that you wind your fingers through her curls and tug on them when she’s going down on you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Rue has a tendency to squirt (oops). She’s always really sensitive whenever you’re touching her, and after making her cum at least twice, she can’t help but let her cum spray out onto your face. She can’t say that she doesn’t enjoy it, either, she really likes the shocked look you get on your face everytime and the way that you stare up at her with innocent eyes as your face literally drips with her cum. She also prefers to have you cum either on her tongue or on her pussy, but she’ll honestly let you use whatever part of her that you want.

D = Dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs)

It’s no secret to anyone that Rue’s been struggling with her addiction, and she knows that it’s absolutely out of the question, but she’s always wanted the two of you to get high together before you fuck. She would never think to offer you any sort of narcotics, but she thinks that sex would be so much better if the two of you smokes a joint beforehand (or during).

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Rue is really inexperienced. She wasn’t a virgin when you met, but she’d only really had sex a handful of times, and they were all with guys. She would be really glad if you were able to guide her through your first time together, but it’s okay if you both fumbled through it too. It’s a learning experience!

F = Favourite position

Rue is pretty lazy when it comes to sex, so she usually likes it when she’s able to lay down or be reclined in some sort of way. I definitely read Rue as a bottom, so she likes it best when you sit on her face or when she just lays between your legs. She’s also a fan of scissoring, but usually when you’re on top or when you both do equal amount of work.

G = Goofy (are they serious in the moment? are they goofy?)

Rue is always in a silly goofy mood when you twos be fucking. Usually, one of you ends up falling off of the bed or hitting your heads on the bed frame by accident, and you’ll always end up in a fit of giggles before you’re both moaning messes again. You both found it especially funny the time that she tried to talk dirty, but you somehow didn’t get turned off by her awkward description of what she wanted to do to you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes?)

If any of you are out here with the idea that Rue is hairless down there, you are sorely mistaken. This girl isn’t defined by her gender, nor does she feel the need to conform to any sort of societal norm. Plus, this bitch is honestly just so lazy that she doesn’t mind that she has a little jungle in her pants. She would probably trim it a little when she knew that there was a special event coming up, like your birthday or anniversary, and she might even take better care of her pubes once she was clean, but I still can’t see her shaving much. She also doesn’t care about how much hair you have, and she would never complain about you (she thinks you’re a goddess), though she might have a small preference for at least a landing strip or a small patch of hair, she thinks it makes things more primal and natural.

I = Intimacy (how romantic are they in bed?)

Rue isn’t very romantic. She definitely tries at times, but I hate to say that it usually ends in the two of you having giggly or downright raunchy sex, there’s no in between.

J = Jack off (how often do they masturbate)

Rue doesn’t touch herself very much. She genuinely isn’t much of a sexual person, and until she started dating you, sex wasn’t really on her mind. I feel like she would do it on occasion, like if you were to send her a nude or a flirty text, but she is otherwise more than happy to wait for you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

She definitely has a praise kink, she loves to hear how good she’s making you feel, and how beautiful you think she looks. Her self esteem always boosts so much after you two do the dirty. She also been wanting to ask you about wax play, but she hasn’t mustered up the courage yet.

L = Location (favourite place to do the do)

Rue likes her bed. It’s the most comfortable and you’re least likely to be caught there, but she also really liked the time that you snuck underneath the bleachers after a football game to fool around a bit.

M = Motivation (what turns them on?)

Rue is no better than a man in the sense that she’s dtf at the sight of your tits. After discovering her fascination with them, you made it a habit to flash her at the most unexpected times, which always resulted in Rue getting her knees a little dirty.

N = No (something they won’t do, turn offs)

Rue would never want to share you. She hates the idea of someone else imposing on the moments that always felt so special to her. Similarly, she would absolutely die if someone caught you two going at it. Honestly, she could probably be convinced to at least try something that you suggest, even if she is a bit sceptical about it, she knows that you wouldn’t intentionally do anything to hurt her or make her uncomfortable.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Rue really loves to please you. She feels so good about herself after she makes you explode on her tongue or fingers, but you are also really talented in that department. She would never say no to you going down on her, but she does prefer to give.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual)

Things with Rue are typically pretty slow and casual, nothing between you two is taken too seriously and she definitely likes to keep things light and flirty in the bedroom, though there have been occasions where one or both of you is so desperate that the bedframe left a dent in the wall.

Q = Quickie (their opinion on quickies, how often, etc)

Rue doesn’t like quickies. She doesn’t hate them, but she would definitely prefer to take things slow in the bedroom. Quickies feel way too informal for her liking, and she wants everything to feel special when she’s with you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks?)

Rue’s not very risky. She likes what she knows, and though she’ll definitely try new positions or ideas that you suggest, she always prefers ol’ faithful.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go? how long do they last?)

Rue could fuck you for about thirty minutes or so before she needs a break, but she would be down to go for another round after you’re both rested up.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on their partners or themselves?)

Rue doesn’t use toys on herself, but she does enjoy watching you bounce up and down on the long purple strapon that you bought for the both of you. She’s let you use it on her a few times, but I feel like she prefers the idea of skin-to-skin contact over skin-to-silicone.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

You’re definitely more of a tease than her. She doesn’t usually think too much about sex unless you bring it up first, or if she’s really horny, but even then she would just casually let you know that she was going to make you go blind for a few minutes.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

Rue’s actually pretty loud when it comes down to it. She can typically subdue her moans, but if you were to nip at her clit or maybe poke around that forbidden second hole, she would let out a much louder cry out of sheer surprise.

W = Wild card (random headcanon)

Rue really likes when you wake her up by touching her. With anyone else, it would be a violation, but she trusts that you’re just trying to make her feel good and genuinely enjoys the surprise of opening her eyes to the sight of you rubbing your clit against hers. Sometimes she even smiles, reaches for your breast, and then just goes back to sleep. She’ll always be awake again by the time that you’ve got her cumming, though.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Rue takes a little bit to warm up. She usually isn’t ready to just drop her pants, but if you make it clear that you’re horny, then she’ll be ready to go after making out for a bit, and she’ll usually go down on you to amp herself up.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Rue could pass out literally immediately after sex. She really likes to just hold you and maybe talk for a little, but then she just wants to sleep to regain all of that energy she’d just lost.

MY WORK IS, UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCE, TO BE REPOSTED OR SHARED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION. I HAVE NEVER GIVEN CONSENT TO MY WORK BEING SHARED, SO IF YOU SEE ANOTHER ACCOUNT POSTING MY CONTENT PLS LET ME KNOW.

#rue bennett #female reader #imagines #reader insert #x reader #euphoria #hbo euphoria #euphoria hbo #euphoria imagine #euphoria season 2 #hbo series #rue x reader #rue bennett x reader

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muffindaddystyles · 3 years ago

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Summary: Y/N's feeling icky about her body, but Harry loves her to bits and pieces, through thick and thin, in health and sick — and he always waits for her to come back to him.

TW: Body dysmorphia.

Y/N's healthy.

All she sucks in is having a sane sleeping schedule due to her UNI otherwise she eats natural goodies, cook and bake home because it comforts her more that way and she works out every evening to stay fit.

Sometimes though, she’s lazy and lacks behind which’s proper humane but deep down it effects her and her mental health more than she admits and she isn’t able to start over again – it mostly happens after her periods.

Harry loves her the way she’s.

Even if she’s clumsy, bumbling, procrastinating, overly enthusiastic to mend her life at 3 am, snotty and sloth-y in her periods, confident and positive around people, kind and loving whenever she comes to meet him, whiny and cuddly when she’s sick, jealous and grumpy with his attention not on her —- he loves her in every way possible, to rivers and to sea his love could never stutter for her ever.

He loves how she’s not overly toned, having soft squishy spots which Harry undeniably wants to admire and kiss shamelessly amount of times -- like -- her plummy pretty thighs that Harry likes to nestle his head in-between making her wriggle and squirm under his grasp, her overly cute tummy that Harry dies to pepper sweet adoring kisses and petal his lips round her belly button, everytime they’re cuddled up his bicep’s always looped her around her tummy to feel it rising up and down in calm rhythm, and oh! her tender titties, they’re actually his favourite babies and he loves to fondle them in his big calloused palms brushing his thumb over the sensitive perky nub and basks in the glittery whimpery mewls of hers.

He loves that she’s curvy and gives zero fucks if she’s skinny or not.

He thinks his baby’s perfect.

So perfect he actually feels the bubbling of devotion and affection filling to the brim of his heart’s chambers and leaking out and upon his ribs tickling him.

Y/N's his person and he worships her with his whole heart.

From some days though, she’s feeling devastatingly insecure about all her things Harry’s in love with and she has no-control over it how much she tries.

Harry’s observing that all with optimism (one of his great quality's that like a lion sly about his prey, he keeps an eye on everything but pretends otherwise). He has his intense gaze fixed on her when she’s taking a look of herself in the mirror for rather too long, running her hands down her body and practically shuddering.

He glances from over his laptop and drops everything he's doing watching her go monkies, sweating buckets and over exercising than her usual time.

He brings her closer and infront of him, pressing her to his chest and coiling his forearm around her shoulders whining a, “Baby..!” when they were brushing their teeth and despite of standing beside him and teasing him occasionally like she usually does she stuffs her face into the crest of his back and hides herself there to have minimal contact with her reflection in the mirror.

Her body dysmorphia spiking dangerously high.

“Deprived me of your cuddles. woke me up so early, granny.” She huffs lying through her teeth and how much his embrace was strong enough to keep her in place she still managed to wiggle out taking her previous cosy position, but he could feel her muscles tensing and an awkward silence falling over them.

He didn’t pry much. He wants to give her as much space as she requires to come back to him hale and hearty, as she always does and whatever happens he never forgets to remind her how much he loves her every night.

They were watching rom-coms on Netflix back to back with her curled up into his side with a spongy white wool knitted blanket thrown over them and his cheek was smashed atop her head popping in peanuts every now and then when out of certain she spoke pointing at the actress, “You know she got her ribs removed to get that shrinky waist.” Harry frowned at that. His face itching into disbelief and concern under the bouncing glow of telly.

He affixes his gaze down at her trying to read what’s cooking up in that genius brain of her's which isn’t being very rational and genius right now, they immediately turns soft and caring when she blinks up at him purely.

She squeaks, nose crashing against his collarbones when he scooches her up in his lap grabbing onto her knees to make her straddle his torso and he grumbles cutely when she tries not put all of her weight on him and doesn’t melts into him as his sweet lovie would used to do receiving a smack on her bum on his end.

He’s afraid that an evil version of her chomped onto his dear baby alive.

“Nothing else matters if all ye’ organs are packed safely and healthily inside you,” He tells her brushing loose frays of her hair behind her earlobe and rubs his thumb in gentle strokes over her treacly pulsing point, “Was just telling you ...” She mumbles, dotting touches on his knuckles and playing with his bare cold fingers.

It’s true, she was rambling out facts about the movie and cast out of habit because no-way she’d ever go through any surgeries to change herself to become someone she isn’t.

“Swear!” She yawps out in convincing high pitch when Harry squints down at her with his lips scrunched, one eye twitching in doing so.

“Alrighty. I believe you.” He cradles her cheeks in his palms and brings her mighty close to him to peck her cupid bow, then her bottom lip and the corners of her smiling mouth to suckle generous amount of whines from her and then kisses her lovingly – hands streaming down her spine and then resting atop her dip.

He thought she was ready to come back to him, to share her problem with him and Harry really wanted to bug in, to not let her fight her battle alone and take half of her hardships from her fretting self but guess not.

They were about to have sex when panic seeped in Y/N's eyes and her cheeks blazed up in that of embarrassment as she rushed to switch off the lamps that were the only source of light in their room.

“Moppet.” Harry sighed, knowing exactly what’s happening and she isn’t as foxy in covering it up as she’s thinking herself to be.

“Why wouldn’t y'want me t'see gorgeous self of yours?” His tone punctured and hurt, feeling useless for not knowing how to cheer her up and break her worries down. He smoothens his hands behind her to lock his arm around her waist, fingertips making grape sized indents into the flesh of her hip-bone as she streaks the tip of her nose up and down the crook of his neck, murmuring meekly against his salty skin while he hugs her warmly.

“’M just feelin’ shy.” He giggles at her response puckering his lips against her hairline to pet tiny, tiny kisses there as she fists her hands against his taught chest.

“Not somethin’ I haven’t seen before, love bug.” He blows raspberries against the underside of her jaw and their mouths meet into a messy, giggling, teeth clanking kiss when she sinks into pillows allowing him to cocoon her in his heat.

“I love you, Y/N. No matter what.”

The last dam breaker for them was this little get together at Sarah and Mitch's baby shower.

She matched her outfit with Harry. Cute lavender coloured little sweater blouse that was familiar to the baggy baby yarn cardigan Harry was wearing, it accentuated her curves and her bosom so prettily -- her midriff peeking from where the buttons weren’t closed and their jeans were painted (they did it themselves one Sunday when it was extra boring and inactive).

Y/N felt uncomfortable in her own clothes. A bitterness spreading inside her for herself and all she wanted was to escape away from her own skin.

She knows she’s loved and welcomed and cherished by her friends and family and the love of her life, most importantly. Then why was she feeling so icky about herself? Why everything's draining her and exhausting her?

Harry obviously could see through the gloomy tenebrous energy overshadowing her as he stood in the corner of the room grabbing the sorbet he poured in two glasses for them.

A sour guzzle of tears choking his throat and his limbs weakening letting the painful heartbreak seep into him when he watches her being fidgety and fiddling with the loops of her jeans, tugging her blouse every passing second and he’s sniffling a hiccup deep in his lungs when she shrinks into herself in dejection staring out of the window without any purpose.

Harry feels awful to startle her when he plops down beside her, coodling her closer to himself and tucks her head beneath his chin subtly and cups his palm under her jaw to make her look in eyes his eyes.

“Hi beautiful,” His tone had a saddening waver in it and his irises mossed bleak when Y/N remains unresponsive, zoning in and out of her own head feeling herself prisoned into her own invasive thoughts.

“You w'na go home darling?” He gives her a wet smile clearing his throat and blinking the stubborn moisture in his eyes away when Y/N nodded without any vivid expression.

All the way back home he denounced himself of not making her feel loved enough, to not to pest her soon about what she’s feeling and letting her slide deeper into the dark hole.

He thinks he’s a piece of shit.

Y/N wanted to dig the earth with her own nails and hide into it and never show her face again, she was overly ashamed of herself.

His hand was holding onto hers tightly, never letting it go as he led them through the hallway and his head perked up in confusion when she stopped them abruptly and lunged to wrap herself around him like he’s the last silver of her hope and the reason to live.

“I’m so sorry, so sorry.” There comes the first sob after ages of suffering and bottling it all in, not shocked at all he was expecting it to happen. Gently he picks her up and wraps her legs around him, keeping his support firm under her bum as she cried into his soft white t-shirt.

Carefully he sits them on the edge of the bed and tries to pry her soaky flushed face in his cradle but she refuses to show him, clutching onto his cardigan and whimpering brokenly.

“I just feel so disgusting,” Her sob scratches out of her throat and for a second he thought he heard her wrong, that her feeble crying’s playing some kind of a sick game with his heart.

“Harry do something I don’t want to feel disgusting.” But, when she pleaded helplessly a cold shiver settled in his bone marrow spreading an agonising burn in his stomach.

Gently he stirs her away from his chest to look at her, meeting their foreheads together while his thumb wiped her tears away and smoothed over her wabbly lips in profound tenderness.

“My beloved,” He whispers fondling his nose against hers and her eyes flutters into realm of calms, shaky breath falling over his lips as he brings her trembling fingertips towards them and pecks them feverishly.

“The love of me life, me heart.” He continues, “Shhh. Shh baby ‘s okay to cry but don’t tire y'self.” He hushes her when she whimpers loudly at his coy affirmation.

“I’m here with you, waiting f'you, watching y’goin’ through a stony path so I could be there to hold you whenever you trip –-,” He pets her hair, cupping the back of her neck to plant his lips bitten red from worry to her puffy damp eyelids and Y/N becomes a gooey lax of candle that’s been burning for tiring amount and finally her lover came to blew the agonising flame away putting her to peace as he coos snuggling her in his cordial embrace, “You’ve been so strong to yourself and ‘m so proud of me baby.”

“I’m always here. Never away from you, always right by y'side.” His palms bending around her ribs to smush her as intimately close as possible.

“How d'ya want your huggies babylove?” He simpers down at her darlingly, huffing out in relief seeing her relaxing -- her shoulders sinking from him massaging the knots in them.

“Tight.” She mumbles timidly. The gleam in her glossy eyes returning when Harry hugs her as she wished, squishing her in right places and not suffocating her at all – their breaths in sync chests flushed against eachother.

“I love you cuddly, and care f’you.” He kisses her on lips then goes to hug her right back.

“I love you too, Har. Thank you.” She sniffs in his woodsy scent grazing her touch up and down his back, smooching a soft kiss at his cheek.

#ME WRITING AN OVERLY EMOTIONAL AND SELF DESTRUCTING PIECE #yahoooooooo yipeee #soft tender harry lives in my heart rent free #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagines #harry styles dirty one shotsssss #harry styles one direction #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #harry angst #harry styles #cute harry #dirty harry styles imagines #harry styles fluff imagine #harry smut #fluff #hsh #dom harry

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seat-safety-switch · 3 years ago

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In the interest of preserving life on our planet for a couple minutes longer, a lot of automakers are now looking into making their cars run on synthetic fuels. The idea, at least in the short term, is to sacrifice a little bit of horsepower in exchange for the ability to make renewable internal-combustion-engine fuel that has a little more consistent emissions output. Like eating from the health food store, but for your engine, including the noxious farts.

Here at Seat Safety Sustainability Solutions, we’ve been making artificial fuel for the last decade at least. We have cars running on our proprietary lineup of fake-gas. Way ahead of the curve, but why haven’t you heard from us before now? There are two leading theories on this matter.

First, that there is a conspiracy by Big Oil to quash us. They want to be pulling dinosaurs out of the ground and crushing them to make awful shitty gasoline that sells for a few cents a litre cheaper than ours. They sent guys in trenchcoats to sabotage my brakes. It wasn’t at all a lack of maintenance on my nearly fifty year old daily driver. This theory has some merit, especially the part where nothing is my fault.

The second theory is that we’re super lazy, and our production facilities just aren’t up to providing enough fake-gas for the entire world. This could also be true, mostly because our “factory” is an old moonshine still in a shower stall in an abandoned mental hospital. I don’t really believe in this theory. We have lots of supply, especially since the average car owner is not willing to manually preheat an explosive fuel to nearly two hundred degrees Celsius before driving to 7-11.

If you believe the dipshits at WikiLeaks, however, this is all a scam. What is actually happening, they claim, is that our synthetic biofuels require actual gasoline to be mixed in at a 99:1 ratio, and our product is just overpriced bottles of Seafoam that I had lying around my garage. These allegations are ridiculous. I would never leave Seafoam lying around my garage; that shit needs to keep going into the intake manifold or I’ll lose my power brakes again as soon as the ambient temperature goes below 5°C.

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queerautism · 3 years ago

Note

“It could be that, but it would be a good idea to rule out physical causes like iron deficiency, lack of vitamin D, etc. First.”

im anon for the exhaustion ask, ive gotten tested to see my iron levels n stuff, their high but not to like, a concerning degree, just above average. i dont believe it would be lack of vitamin d since ive been living similarly to as i do now in twrms of things that i’d get vitamin d from and never had as many problems with exhaustion.

depression seems more likely since my mental health has been dying for like, 2 years now, but i dont want to seek professional help even if i should because that would mean dealing with problems i dont want to deal with no matter what that i dont believe i can detail. self destruction, to keep it vague. but ive never had this much problems with exhaustion n shit til now in terms of mentally? its only really surrounded physical stuff which i thought died out awhile ago. and its not like… crushing sadness, really. mostly just numbness so?? hesitant to say it, i guess.

… honestly i kinda thought that i was just lazy, haha. might be too? might be making a big deal outta nothing in terms of what i was talking about with exhaustion.

You're not lazy, because lazyness is not an actual thing. You are not making a big deal out of it. You deserve to feel good, energetic and to enjoy stuff.

At the worst of my depression, numbness was absolutely all I felt. I was exhausted and didn't want to do nothing, couldn't be interested in nothing, and I couldn't see it ever changing in the future. But that's depression lying to you. You can get help and things can get better.

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the-gay-prometheus · 3 years ago

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Have you ever pretended to be sick to get out of school/work?

I can't actually answer yes or no to this because the answer is complicated. So uh. Long answer below the cut including a little lesson on ablism, but TL:DR is "yes but also no."

So I have a few chronic illnesses and have been dealing with symptoms since I was in middle school. When I first started showing long term symptoms, my family refused to believe there was anything actually wrong with me. So on days when I was in too much pain or too dizzy/lightheaded to go to school, I would lie and say I had gotten sick earlier in the night and that I was still feeling nauseous - which wasn't a complete lie, since one of my symptoms is constant nausea, but usually I hadn't actually gotten sick. Our school had a policy that we weren't allowed to go in if we had gotten sick a certain amount of hours before school started, so even if my parents wanted to send me, they couldn't - and if they did send me, I could just go to the nurse and say I had gotten sick that morning and was still feeling nauseous.

Similarly, once I got a diagnosis and my mother at least started vaguely believing me, sometimes I would end up using my physical chronic illness to let me stay home from school when I was having an extremely bad mental health day or having a really hard time with sensory problems, because my parents didn't believe that mental problems were an excuse to miss school.

To make a long explanation short, I never lied or faked an illness just for the sake of being lazy, I always lied or faked an illness for the sake of staying home when I actually needed to just because my parents wouldn't listen.

If they had listened, I wouldn't have had to lie.

The same goes for things like work and whatnot though.

Here's a lesson on ablism in society that nobody asked for: people don't believe invisible illnesses exist or are as bad as they are, and likewise don't believe mental illness exists or is as bad as it is. That means in order to just survive, sometimes those of us that deal with these things have to lie or present ourselves as some other form of sick. Sometimes, that's literally the only way we can get the rest we need. And it sucks - because a lot of times we then start to second guess ourselves when we're having issues. We start to think "am I actually having this problem, or am I 'just lying to get out of doing this?'" even though whatever we are dealing with is in fact an incredibly valid reason to stay home and rest or to say no to something. Even worse, though, is that some people will see this and think "well then how can i know if this person is ever telling the truth about how they're feeling?" And the only answer I can give those people is - you won't, and that is entirely your own fault.

#tw ablism #disability #chronic illness #chronic pain #ehlers danlos syndrome #postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome #potsie #heds #mcas #mast cell activation syndrome #spoonie #disabled #actually disabled #mental illness #ablism #a brief pause in frankenposting

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thedeviljudges · 3 years ago

Text

the devil judge + the seven deadly sins

so, i made a gifset about who i thought falls under the seven deadly sins. and also shameless plug - please go reblog the gifset i made for this. took me ages to do.

but i figured i might as well make a meta post to correlate. so this is that post. it’s not everything i could discuss. i could be here for hours more, truth be told. but i hope it’s enough to chew on.

while i feel like a lot of these are going to be a no-brainer, i still want to talk it through because idk. i can, and i want to, and i feel like it, lmao.

gluttony

the elite are privileged and have an opportunity to indulge so much more than the general public, but in many different ways. this is shown throughout the show in the fact that they can indulge on luxury food, have political power, they can make a phone call or snap their fingers and everyone must follow their orders.

and the thing about gluttony is that there is always more to be had. you take a little and then realize it’s not enough and so you ask for more. case in point: in episode 11 when sunah suggests that yohan could be the new president, the current one gives her an alternative: dictatorship. because it wasn’t just enough for him to be an actor and the presiding president.

you’ll also know they turn in on themselves - the two other guys in the elite group. one who owns the company and the other dude - i really cannot remember their names and what they do, but y’all know who i’m talking about. it was so easy for them, when threatened, to fabricate documents to give to yohan about each other in order to get ahead. gluttony is only shared in the relationships we have until one realizes they can take a little extra of the pie. it’s the selfishness of having all the leftovers. gluttony cannot necessarily exist without someone else’s sacrifice.

lust

i kind of had an ah-ah moment when i was talking this over with @technitango. i was trying to decide who was going to be lust because lust is portrayed very, very differently in this show than what most of us are used to. we, of course, know sunah who lusts after a life of indulgence and riches because she equates that with respect more than actually wanting it because it’s monetarily worth something.

but then i realized the public is lust because of their need for justice. i won’t say revenge necessarily because they’re doing as they’re told when given the judge show. but we can quickly see how that evaporates into something akin to bloodlust, for criminals and people who normally get away with shit, to have their fair taste at conviction for their misdeeds. we even see it with yohan’s fanboy club - the lust that comes from adoration and dedication.

and even more so, the public is easily swayed and so is the nature of lust. it follows in the vein of needs and wants, and as soon as new information is presented, however may false, so does the wants and desires of what people want sway. how easy was it for them to turn on yohan for a split second on two occasions - on two accounts of bribery.

envy

envy, above all, is about wanting what others have because you do not have it yourself. it may not be exactly what they have, but a form of it. some people don’t necessarily want money - they want what it can by, which is time, health and material goods.

sunah is the perfect example of this. she envies respect and recognition. she talks about bright and shiny objects, and that’s true to her kleptomania tendences, but more than anything, she wants to be seen as an equal because being poor with a vastly different upbringing means she’s looked down upon by those she thinks matters.

which also begs the question why she feels the need to seek validation from people in higher statuses to begin with when she can be the exception and not the rule - form her own understanding and environment to show others that the typical way of the elite is not actually all it’s cracked up to be - to which we see when she has no one to celebrate her victory with. it’s lonely being at the top. you get to your goal you thought you wanted but then what?

more importantly, sunah also envies family, relationships and simply put, human interaction. she wants to be cared for and treasured, and she looks for that in her position of power. because then all eyes are on you. because then that’s what people care about. what she fails to see is that those eyes are just as fruitless and just as wavering. to be a leader means people loving the idea of you but not you as a person.

“people of envious nature are sometimes stimulated to seek to emulate those who have completed some great achievements and in doing so achieve something great for themselves,” according to Understanding Philosophy.

wrath

while i realize that gaon not might entirely fit the wrath trope, he certainly has his moments, and i think he’s lived with a tampered flame since his parent’s death. he just learned to briefly put it out in the form of distractions and a false sense of righteousness and justice. it isn’t until he meets yohan that someone finally gives him the okay to feel the entirety of his emotions, that lets him breath and tells him it’s okay to feel anger and hurt. and while gaon ultimately chooses not to exact revenge, his wrath is what led him to becoming a judge and walking away from his teenage crimality.

gaon transposed his wrath into seeking justice, transformed it into livelihood, and reformed his narrative so that he was no longer angry and a teen with rash emotions. it was simply redirected and never really forgotten. yohan turned that redirection back around onto gaon’s ultimate heartache. fueled with that, it became easier to justify himself and his actions.

the most pivotal moment of turning his back on this mindset is, of course, the minister’s suicide, where he takes a good look at himself and doesn’t like what he sees. at this point, gaon’s upset isn’t necessarily at yohan but at the situation in which they got themselves into. because the thing is, gaon doesn’t absolve himself from what they did. he doesn’t turn a blind eye to that and try to dismiss it. he owns up to what happened and confesses how he feels to yohan and how he has to leave for his own good, and in some indirect way, for yohan’s, too.

with yohan, his ultimately weakness, despite never admitting to it, is family. his wrath comes in the form of anger when the ones he loves are threatened. yohan lives by a moral code of loyalty because that means you won’t be abandoned, and as a child who lived with that verdict since the day he was born, it’s an ever-pressing theme of his.

thing is, wrath comes in two particular forms for yohan. again, one is family and the second is the rose-colored glasses he’s given himself in his revenge story. he’s always had a goal to presumably make right the wrong for taking away isaac, but within that, 10 years is a long time to plot revenge, to the point where it becomes so much easier to lose yourself to that, to become enraged with it and forget the initial goal all along. we see this in his inability to form the bonding moments needed with his niece and his casual throwaway comments over people’s lives - the comment he made to gaon about moving on to the next plan, and the ultimately nail in the coffin of pushing gaon to leaving him.

his fury has also led him to convince himself his own humanity is nothing short of a lie. therefore, it’s easier to justify the means to an end because of his own self-worth and self-deprecation. it’s almost like a self-fulfilling prophecy: he even admitted to gaon’s mentor that he is an abyss. he’s referred to himself as nothing but an animal or a monster - all characteristics of despondency to survive and to justify what he’s doing. sort of like a catch 22, yohan claims he’s an animal/monster and behaves as such, but because he behaves as such, it means he’s an animal/monster.

wrath for gaon and yohan are very different yet the same. they are slow-burning, and that’s a dangerous type. it’s actually interesting when you think about the fire imagery surrounding the two of them because flames are quick to lap at anything in its wake, to destroy within a matter of minutes. and yet for the two of these men, their internal fire eats them from the inside out, painfully, until they’re almost unrecognizable to others and to themselves.

sloth

sloth was a little more difficult to pinpoint because of its characteristics. it was either the minister versus the mentor, both of which i think could work in this role. however, i chose the minister simply because she’s featured more and intertwines heavily with the plot line.

soth is a medieval translation of the Latin term acedia, meaning “without care.”

the ultimate characteristic of sloth is often identified as laziness, and while it’s easy to argue that the minister hasn’t been lazy in her ability to get where she is, she became as much when she started lying to get to her position. isn’t lying known as the easier way out? it absolves you of responsibility, of putting in the hard work, of apologizing and making things right. in the end, she had a goal and found the easiest solution to get there through her lack of responsibility for the roles she more than likely swore an oath to.

but that also translates into the other attributes of sloth: a failure to do the right thing, lack of emotions for people or of the self, and the fact that it “hinders man in his righteous undertakings and thus becomes a terrible source of man’s undoing” according to The Seven Deadly Sins: Society and Evil.

while i think there are a lot of components of sloth that may not necessarily fit the minister, the apathy and carelessness are enough to showcase her aggression, despondency and restlessness when what little efforts she does put in do not go her way. another interesting thing to note is that many of sloth’s traits correspond with symptoms of mental illness, such as depression and anxiety. it’s an interesting thing to note given the way the minister chooses to end her life.

greed

i don’t know that jinjoo would’ve had any provocation to the limelight if it wasn’t for sunah’s direction, but she’s eager to please and wants to be useful. it’s only natural for her to want more because it’s clear she’s a career woman, loves her job and has a heart for serving the people.

but like gluttony, greed is also that little thing that plants itself and can take on a life of its own. you start looking for justifications as to why you can’t have more than what you do, and in jinjoo’s situation, she’s already overlooked through no fault of her own. and it’s not that gaon and yohan are doing it purposefully, which is what makes their neglect heartbreaking, because truthfully, they’re after the same thing jinoo is. sure, it looks different and the foundation of it is different, same with their motives. but they’re all three judges on a residing bench working to exact justice - even if all three of them have their own personal agenda.

i don’t think jinoo fully aligns with greed, but she does want more for herself, and i think that’s only natural. you can tell she has a heart, and she’s keen not to be overlooked. this isn’t her pain point so much as it is she knows her worth and is more than ready to do what it takes to get where she wants. this, in and of itself, isn’t necessarily a bad trait, but we can see how it leads to being deceived, especially for someone who’s been left in the dark for so long.

she is enticed by the glitz and the glamour of being a head judge, but you can tell she feels some remorse and guilt for those thoughts at times. i think her sense of greed is a battle within herself more than it is extremely outwardly.

pride

soohyun’s pride comes in the form of her imbalance with right and wrong. her sense of righteousness and justice is so far leaning, even more than gaon’s. it can be chalked up to her being a cop, but we’ve seen instances of this outside of her role within that agency. her pride doesn’t let her see beyond saving gaon and getting to the bottom of every mystery that comes her way.

it also comes in the form of impulsiveness and her savior complex, putting elijah in danger, for example, instead of waiting for backup. it’s not necessarily from a belief that she can fix things all on her own, but she sees injustice and immediately jumps in. another case in point is her and gaon watching yohan wreck the minister’s son’s car. she’s ready to go stop him, but gaon pulls her back, most likely because at that point, they hadn’t been observing the situation for very long to get a read on it. also the fact that at that point, neither of them truly knew yohan and his capabilities.

but as to where her characteristics come from, we simply don’t know beyond that of gaon. it’s unfortunate because we don’t have much of her backstory, so there is no real understanding why she so firmly believes in entities of regulation beyond keeping her friend out of jail. she prides herself on her work and what she’s able to accomplish, which is why it’s devastating to her to have to protect gaon by cleaning up his bloody handprint.

aristotle is of the belief that, “pride, then, seems to be a sort of crown of the virtues; for it makes them greater, and it is not found without them. Therefore it is hard to be truly proud; for it is impossible without nobility and goodness of character,” from Nicomachean Ethics.

but pride for soohyun isn’t about honors or rewards. it’s for herself and her capabilities, her ability to protect gaon, and the virtues she’s set as the precedent for herself. because sometimes it’s not even about establishing morals and ethics upon yourself. it’s about feelings/intuition, logic and observation. and no, i don’t mean the feelings she has for gaon. there are things that humans do, both actions and words, that we inherently know are bad without someone telling us as much and without the rules of the world seared into our brains. there are some things we know, for a fact, are wrong to us as individuals.

for soohyun, she knows that gaon’s actions, and even her own, have consequences. from what we’ve seen, i think it can be argued that it’s really about not doing those actions to prevent an outcome - not necessarily from a place of being just and right. that doesn’t mean she doesn’t understand good morals/ethics, but again, we have no background of what her internal guidance actually is.

to put this in layman’s terms, we’ll use gaon wanting to stab the conman in his youth. soohyun knows it’s wrong because it will incriminate gaon and therefore she stops it. gaon’s gone to her because he sees her as a moral compass. but is her own internal navigation rooted in justice the way gaon had to find it in the judicial system, or is hers rooted in her pride of keeping gaon safe? she stops him from doing things that will get him in trouble, but is she stopping him because the action itself is wrong or because the outcome will result in undesirable consequences for the two of them?

and of course, there is a flipped argument to be had there - i’m not arguing that gaon stabbing the conman would be right or justified. but what i am saying is that for her, her worldview is the only right one, and when anyone steps out of that, even gaon, it becomes a bit of an issue: the pride she has for that is palpable.

every character indulges

truthfully, every character has at least one form of these sins rooted in their characterization. some are larger than others, but the breadth of it can be explored even further for each. and that’s what makes them more realistic and not just characters written on a page or following a linear progression of their writing deity.

the seven deadly sins are also notoriously rooted in religion. they’re also a defining feature of aristotle’s works that represent the golden mean, in which each vice is parallel to a virtue.

the devil judge is so layered, but i think at the heart of it, it’s about humanity at its core. sprinked in are the philosophies and contradictions and what it means to look in the mirror, what happens when we’re blind to seeing our true selves and most importantly, how much changes when we’re swayed by our own misgivings. it really asks us to understand nature versus nurture, that people must find a belief in something to keep them going, and how futile our hopes and desires can actually be if we’re not carefully regulating ourselves, nevermind the entities established by society to regulate us, too.

the entirety of the show genuinely begs the question as to who is truly right, who is truly wrong, and if it’s even possible to find the correct answer.

#x #the devil judge #the devil judge meta #*#*the devil judge #so i have some Thoughts #probably not very good ones but ya know

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a-master-procrastinator · 2 years ago

Text

Incorrect Quote Game

Tagged by @palepinkycat, thank you :)

Rules: go to this quote generator, enter your characters’ names and have a good laugh

Technically I only used one OC in this and was going to change that, but then got a little carried away (bc it's much fun and bc I love BH crew), so long post (had to cut like half of that stuff, and it's still too long).

Mako: I have a bad feeling about this… Jett: What do you mean? Mako: Don't you ever get that little voice in your head that tells you if you're going to get into trouble? Jett: No? Gault: That actually explains so much.

---

Jett: You’re giving me a sticker? Blizz: Not just a sticker. That is a sticker of a kitty saying “me-wow!” Jett: I’m not a preschooler. Blizz: Fine, I’ll take it back- Jett: I earned this, back off!

---

Mako: What’s the straightest thing you’ve ever done? Jett: *sighs* Jett: I killed a man.

---

Gault: If you get in trouble, I'm gonna be like… a lawyer to you. Ok? Jett: Okay. later on Voss The Three: Hunter! Sit down on the chair, you're in trouble. Gault, whispering: Deny everything. Jett, loudly: That isn't a chair.

---

Torian: Do you cook? Jett: I made a cake once. Gault: Yeah, it was good. Jett: Really? Gault: Don’t make me lie twice.

---

Jett: Your smile? It makes my day. Torian: Your happiness? I live for that. Mako: A room? Get one. Gault: Hotel? Trivago.

---

Mako: *is hugging Blizz* Torian: Hey! It's my turn to hug Blizz! Torian: *grabs Blizz* Jett: *kicking down the door* What do you mean, "yOuR tUrN"? We agreed now is my time slot! Mako: No, It's still my turn! Blizz: *suffocating* Guys, I love you, but just because I'm the smallest doesn't mean you can be hugging me constantly! Torian: But we need the moral support! Mako: And you're small! Which is cute! Jett: If I don't hug you right now I think the depression will kick in and my body will stop functioning. Blizz: *close to tears* Well- I, I guess.

---

Gault: They… well, I wouldn't call it inheritance per se. What do you call it when you kill someone and get their stuff? Mako: Um, murder??? Jett: Adventuring! Torian: Tuesday.

---

Jett: Is there anyone here who’s actually straight? Mako: *raises hand* Gault: *puts her hand down*

---

somewhere on Hoth

Torian: I'm cold. Jett: Here, take my jacket.

meanwhile

Mako: I'm cold. Gault: I can't control the weather, Mako.

---

Mako: HYDRATE OR DIE-DRATE! Mako: *aggressively throws water bottles* Torian: Uh… what's up with her? Gault: She's trying to yell mental health and wellbeing into us. Mako: I APPRECIATE ALL OF YOU! Jett, crying: It's working.

---

Gault: I still don’t have a New Year’s resolution. Jett: You could lose a few. Torian: You could be less lazy. Mako: Don’t be such a bitch. Gault: Okay DAMN, SHIT.

---

The crew when they drop food on the floor Mako: Aw man. *throws it away* Torian: Five second rule! Jett: Foolish germs, thinking they can stop me!? *eats it off the floor* Blizz: *sobs on the floor*

---

Jett: I just want someone to take me out. Mako: On a date? Gault: With a sniper gun? Torian: Both if you're not a coward.

---

Mako: You bought a taco? Gault: Yes. Mako: From the same transport that hit Jett?! Gault, with a mouthful of taco: Well, me starving ain't gonna help her.

---

Mako: Could you guys at least try to see this from my perspective? Gault: *crouches down* Jett: *kneels down* Torian: *sits on the floor* Mako: Mako: I hate all of you.

---

Blizz: Uh, boss? Mako is in the pool and I don't think she's waterproof. Jett: What? Torian: I think he meant, Mako is drowning. Jett: WHAT?! Meanwhile Mako: *is drowning* Gault: OH MY GOD, Mako! KEEP SWIMMING! Mako: I can't swim, dumbass— *sinks* Gault: Mako!

---

Gault: You're a lying piece of shit! Jett: Oh yeah? You're the idiot that thinks you can get away with everything you do, WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD! Torian: I'm leaving and I'm taking Blizz with me! Mako, gathering cards: Aaaaand that's enough Monopoly for today.

---

Mako: Self care is stuff like taking a bubble bath or putting on a lot of make up if you like that, or taking a nice warm nap and stuff like that basically. Jett: Self care is the burning heat when rage washes over you. self care is when you feel the bones crack under your powerful fists. self care is the fear in your enemies eyes. Gault: Self care is stealing someones birthday cake just to eat the frosting. Jett: If you touch my birthday cake I’ll make you eat your hands.

---

HK-51: Query: If you took a shot for every time you made a bad decision, how drunk would you be? Mako: Maybe a bit tipsy? Torian: Drunk. Jett: Wasted. Gault: Dead.

---

Mako: I told HK to grab snacks for everyone. Jett, looking through the options: Why did you grab fruit snacks? Are you five? Who even likes Fruit Snacks? *Mako, Blizz and Gault raise their hands*

---

Jett coming back to the ship after Belsavis

Jett: We’re kind of missing something guys. Mako: Cohesion? Blizz: Teamwork? Gault: A general sense of what we’re doing? Blizz: And Torian is not here. Gault: Oh, and that, yeah.

---

Jett: Why is Blizz crying? Gault: He saw a leaf on the sidewalk and- Blizz: IT LOOKED SO CRUNCHY! Jett: Please don’t say what I think you’re gonna say- Blizz: AND WHEN I STEPPED ON IT THERE WAS NO CRUNCH! Jett: NO, NOT THAT!

---

HK-51: Suggestion: Share dumbest scar stories. Blizz: I burned my tongue once drinking tea. Mako: I dropped a hair dryer on my leg once and it burned. Torian: I have a piece of graphite in my leg for accidentally stabbing myself with a pencil in the first grade. Gault: I was taking a cup of noodles out of the microwave and spilled it in my hand and I got a really bad burn. Jett: I have emotional scars.

---

Jett, at Torian: You're my significant other. Torian: Yeah I am! Jett, at Blizz: You're my child. Blizz: Yes boss. Jett, at Gault: You're my bitch. Gault: Yeah I am- wait, what? Jett, at Mako: My bestie. Mako: Naturally. Jett, at Skadge: HA, GAY! Skadge: Fuck you.

(i had to bully Skadge at least once)

---

Torian: WHO ATE MY BREAD?! Torian: I'M GOING TO FUCKING K- Jett: I did? Torian: Kiss you and buy some more, you haven't been eating anything today. *walking away* Jett: Jett: He's gone Blizz. Blizz, coming out the closet with bread stuffed in his mouth: Twankh uh!

---

Jett: We need a plan to beat them. Gault: Okay, listen up. First, we fill their shoes with wet cat food. Jett: Gault: Judge me all you want, I get results.

---

Jett: *posts a super low-quality image to the group chat* Gault: If I had a dollar for every pixel in this image, I’d have 15 cents. Jett: If I had a dollar for every ounce of rage I felt in my body after I read this text, I would have enough money to buy a cannon to fire at you. HK-51: Unnecessary correction: Actually, master, I did the math. Gault would have $225, not $0.15. Gault: I’m right here…. Mako: If I had a dollar I would buy a can of soda :) Blizz: while you’re there could you buy me an apply juice please Mako: Sorry I only have a dollar. Blizz: :( HK-51: Unnecessary correction: I just realized I was wrong, Gault would have $22,500, because it's a dollar for every pixel, not a cent. Blizz: If I had $22,500 I would buy a can of soda and an apply juice. Gault: You can buy anything you want with $22,500. Jett: Yeah, and he wants soda and apply juice. Gault: Apply juice to what. Jett: Directly to the forehead. Torian: … Torian: Great chat guys.

#and don't take this too seriously #it's just for a good laugh (which i had at 3 am tyvm)#i just love them so much your honour #swtor #bounty hunter crew #oc:jett #tagged #palepinkycat #legacy (verse): lette

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artistsfuneral · 4 years ago

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> Fainting and losing your Consciousness for Writers <

Disclaimer: when I say 'fainting' I mean wobbly woosiness and 'unconscious' means kiss the ground goodbye. Also I have absolutely no medical schooling or anything, this is just me describing what I experience. I pathetically tried to make this funny, sorry.

Obviously there are different types of losing your consciousness and personally I can predict it beforehand, 90% of the time and 'stop' it before it gets too bad.

Slow Fainting

At first it feels a bit like being drunk/tipsy. You have that cottony feel in your head that gets worse with time.

Your limbs feel heavy, especially your head. At this point you probably feel the need to sit down. (Usually my hands start shaking at this part or the next.)

Then your vision starts swimming or unfocusing. Yes, the black dots really appear and they are in constant movement and it probably makes you feel sick. Close your eyes and lay your head on your knees.

You start sweating, your body tries to cool you down. Please lay yourself flat on the floor, close your eyes and concentrate on your breathing. Now, your vision gets totally black and if you're unlucky you will either experience a tinnitus or 'under-water-hearing'.

After part 4. is over and you slowly regain your senses, elevate your legs and stay on that floor for as long as you can. Give yourself the time to come back or you will faint again, this time quick.

You don't necessarily lose your consciousness during this. Sometimes thinking is really hard and sometimes you just lie there annoyed at yourself.

Quick Fainting

I have never seen myself dropping to the floor like a wet potato before. (I actually think I would laugh at myself) But it feels kind of like this:

You get that feeling of 'stood up to fast' and your head just goes through the previous 4 stages really quick

Yoir vision will go black, you will feel drunk and/or sick and everything becomes really wobbly

Even if you manage to sit down, you can still fall to the floor and hit your head. So better lie down, because the possibility that you will be gone in a few seconds is high.

Everytime I fainted quickly, I also lost my consciousness. Waking up can take me mere seconds to... 20 minutes? And it can be a fast 'wake up and wonder wth I'm lying in my doorway and not in bed but ok' or a really slow waking up, like when you're really, really tired but you still have to get up and go to work/school

Reasons

Got up too fast

Too long in a hot shower/bath

Sicknesses

Heat (summer, overdressing, sports)

Had not enough food

Dehydration

Very stressful situations (panic, shock, pressure)

Thinking about very stressful situations

Got up too fast after fainting

Your lover has send a portrait of their ankle in their last letter

Mental health

Growth spurts

Medical conditions

What to do

Sit or Lie down!!!! Even if you're in public!! Yes some people will think you are being stupid, but that's not worth a concussion!

If you're on a trip with your group, tell your friends what's going on!! Even if nothing happens in the end, it's important that they know to expect it and if they can help you, how.

Elevate yor legs.

Slap cold towels on your wrists or hold them under flowing water.

Drink! Eat! Rest!

Take it slow for the rest of the day.

If it happens often, you should probably go to a doctor (lazy tip: this can get you out of gym class)

Send your lover a letter, where they can see your ankle without stockings! Make them faint instead.

#writers of tumblr #writing tips #geraskier #marvel cinematic universe #dragon age #fanfiction #writing #fainting #unconcious #Is there a tw for this?

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sidespart · 5 years ago

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Sibling Culture

Summary: Younger siblings Patton, Virgil and Roman share some stories about their older siblings Deceit, Logan and Remus. Patton and Virgil’s stories are cute. Roman’s are not.

Warnings: Abuse, Unsympathetic Remus, Non graphic descriptions of abuse, Not great understanding of mental health issues (child POV), authority figures not being very useful, child being exposed to sexual situations (very much not graphic). Ask if you want me to add more.

Relationships: Gen, but a bit of pre-relationship moxiety snuck in because I love them

“Hey, how’d you get that scar?”

Despite the warm day, Roman felt cold grip his insides, twisting upwards towards his throat and freezing any denial he could think of until he was startled by a laugh from Patton.

“Oh! It was Dee’s fault.”

Wincing, Roman twisted himself so he could see the other two properly. Patton was still sprawled out on the grass next to him, but Virgil had sat up. He was hunched over, peering at Patton’s leg. When he saw Roman carefully sit up to join him he pointed at a faded sliver of a scar, just above Patton’s left knee.

“What did he DO?” Virgil face had shifted into a scowl at the mention his ‘arch enemy’ but that faded quickly as Patton started giggling.

“It was when I was …four? I think? He convinced me the Easter Bunny didn’t come to our house because the Easter Fox lived in our yard. I had to go out and patrol the yard, make sure it was safe, or I wouldn’t get any candy that year.”

-It said something about years of friendship with both Patton and Devin Sanders that neither Roman or Virgil thought to question that logic-

“Anyway he let me stomp around there for ever and then he jumped out in this fox mask to scare me!”

“This kind’ve thing is why he’s a dick” Virgil muttered. His hand, Roman noticed, was still on Patton’s leg, thumb swiping idly over the scar.

“He was nine, Vee” Patton said reprovingly, although he didn’t actually deny the comment, “anyway, he didn’t know I’d snuck a knife from the dishwasher-

“You WHAT?-”

“A KNIFE?-”

“-there was candy AND a bunnys life a stake, guys I was taking it seriously!” Patton’s eyes were sparkling with laughter at the twin looks of horror on his friends faces. “Anyway, he startled me so bad that of course I dropped it right away – sliced my knee up as it fell.”

“oh my God” Virgil groaned finally relinquishing Patton’s leg so he could bury his face in his hands. “That could have been so bad Pat.”

“what did Devin do?” Roman asked quietly.

“oh, he freaked – Virgil will you come out of there I’m fine – yelled so loud both our parents came running. Then, once I was all bandaged up, he tried to convince them I fell off a skateboard.”

That was enough to make Virgil peak through his fingers, a frown on his face “Did you ever even own a skateboard?”

Patton shifted himself so he was sitting up as well, an extremely solemn look on his face.

“We did not.”

There was a brief, pregnant pause before all three of them cracked up, their laughter echoing across Vigil’s yard.

“Older brothers are the worst.” Virgil pronounced. Despite the heat of the day he was still wearing his thick hoodie over a t-shirt and jeans, but now he started pushing up his right sleeve “Did I ever tell you about the time Logan threw me out of the tree house?”

“He what??!” Roman yelped.

“He would NEVER!” Patton gasped.

“He did” Virgil held his right arm up, revealing a long puckered line that ran from his mid forearm across his elbow. “It was before either of you moved here, I had a cast and everything”

All three of them took a moment to admire Virgil’s scar, much more raised and defined than Patton’s, before Roman asked the question they were no doubt all thinking:

“What colour was your cast?”

“Purple.”

“Nice.”

“Did Logan really push you Virgil?” Roman had to do his absolute best not to laugh at the pout that appeared on Virgil’s face when he took in Patton’s heartbroken expression.

Logan McAlister, was four years older than the three friends and Patton had fixated on him the moment they’d met. Roman has spent years watching Patton go from hero worship to puppy love to full blown crush all while Virgil stomped along next to him like a gloomy, jealous, storm cloud.

Not that Virgil would ever admit that it was jealousy making him snap and snarl at his brother whenever his friends came around…but their relationship certainly seemed to become more civil once Patton had gotten over his crush.

Roman couldn’t really blame Patton either. Virgil had never said anything and Logan…Logan was cool.

“He built a plane.” Virgil muttered eventually, shoving his sleeve back into place. “or a glider or…something. A box with a sheet stuck too it anyway. We both sat in it and he pushed us out of there.” He pointed towards the somewhat dilapidated tree house nestled in the tallest tree in the yard.

Roman let out a low whistle. Now that the three of them were quickly approaching seventeen they had physically, if not mentally, started to outgrow the tree house. Which meant it was no longer useful for much beyond lying down almost on top of each other during study sessions or lazy afternoon naps. When Roman had first met Virgil at age ten however it had seemed enormous. And very high up. It would have seemed even higher whenever the Ill-fated glider attempt had happened.

‘Were you scared?” he asked, watching Virgil carefully, but the other boy just shrugged.

“I don’t remember much to be honest. We were both pretty small.” He grinned. “I just remember afterwards. Logan kept coming into my room to sneak me chips and read his Physics text book to me”

“Aww! That so sweet!”

“Such a nerd.”

“Yeah.” Virgil ducked his head a little, apparently agreeing with both statements. He plucked a few strands of grass from the lawn, twisting them between his fingers.

Roman glanced at Patton, concerned. They both knew Virgil missed his brother, away at college and not due for a visit for at least a month. They also knew that asking him directly about it was a guaranteed way to get the emo to tense up.

Just as Roman was debating launching himself into a rendition of Black Parade as a distraction Virgil rolled his shoulders a looked up at him.

“Your turn.”

That cold grip he’d felt when he thought Virgil had noticed one of his scars was suddenly back ten fold.

“Oh…”

That made sense. Patton had shared a dumb sibling story. Then Virgil. Now it was his turn. It was only fair.

“Well…”

Roman was suddenly finding it quite difficult to breath. And to think. What was he supposed to tell them?

“I…”

He sat frozen. While two expectant faces stared at him, he racked his brain for a story to tell.

When they’re seven Roman draws out his first story. Crude renderings of superheroes and scientists and scientist-superheroes in the rainforest. it’s boring Remus complains when he sees it. You’re boring Ro’. Make them fight! No - make ‘em smash that guys head in!

No! Roman shouts and Remus scowls. Grabs at the craft scissors lying on the table and jumps towards Roman; trying to both rip the paper out of his hands and cut it to pieces at the same time whilst Roman screams and screams.

Later, their mother gently cleans the tiny scratches on Romans hand whilst Remus sulks at the table. He started it Remus mutters and Roman feels his mothers arms tighten around him. Protective.

When they’re nine they get taken on a trip to the public pool in the next town. This pool is bigger than their local one with slides and pool toys and jets. The two of them spend a happy hour chasing each other with pool noodles and racing each other in the water. And then Remus pushes Romans head underwater and holds him down until his lungs are burning so badly he opens his mouth. He spends their last precious minutes of the trip hacking and spluttering. Clinging to the pools edge with his brothers laughter ringing in his ears.

When they’re eleven Remus sneaks into his room at night with their fathers laptop tucked securely under his arm. Wakes Roman up by crashing onto the bed next to him and says look what I found!

Roman isn’t really sure what he’s found at first. The sounds off, presumably to avoid alerting their parents in the room next door, the websites unfamiliar – it takes a few seconds for the pulsing blobs to be recognisable as people and when they do YURGHH! Roman shrikes slams the laptop closed whilst Remus howls with laughter what were they doing to that woman?!

what were they – oh my god your such a pussy Roman don’t you know? Let me show you another one-

Roman kicks and punches and shoves trying to get Remus away from him and Remus is laughing laughing laughing until he isn’t. Until their parents are in the room, shouting, trying to separate them and Remus is using the laptop like a bludgeon, slamming the edge into Romans ribs, each hit punctuated with Why! Do! You! Ruin! Everything!

The next day Virgil asks if he wants to come and play in the tree house and Roman says no. He has to be home early. Visitors. Virgil accepts the lie easily and Roman tries not to breath to deeply.

The thing is you cant blame Remus. You’re not allowed. Not really.

There’s something wrong with him.

What that something is seems to change often depending on which adult you ask. Every few months their parents bring Remus back from a new therapist with a new diagnosis and a new bottle of pills and big grins because THIS time they’re going to fix him.

When they’re twelve Romans mother smiles at him and says Your such a good boy Roman. You keep me going. Their mother doesn’t smile much these days and the sight of it is almost as good as the praise. I know its hard. It must be so frustrating for you.

Last month Remus had convinced an older boy to gift him a box of cigarettes. That morning he’d found them again and finally tried to smoke them, recruiting a reluctant Roman to keep watch. When he’d gagged on the taste he’d made exaggerated vomiting noises before stuffing the still burning end into Romans palm.

But we’re all in this together. You know?

Roman knows. He wants to help. He decides that unless the injury is bad enough he can’t fix it himself he simply wont tell his parents. He wants to help keep them going.

When they’re thirteen Remus watches some murder mystery show and decides to burn his fingerprints off on the kitchen stove. We should do yours too! Shoving his mangled thumb under Romans nose. The smell makes Roman gag. Remus’ eyes are fever bright. We could be partners in crime!

When they’re fourteen Remus decides he wants white streaks in his hair. And since they’re twins Roman should too. His attempt to bleach Romans hair as he sleeps leads to ruined sheets and a smattering of chemical burns across his neck and shoulders. He tells Patton it was a cooking accident and invests his saved allowance in jackets with high starched collars.

When they’re fifteen he tells someone.

Their school has an assembly. Some outside company performing a play about abusive relationships. The teachers all have their sombre This Is A Serious Topic Don’t You Dare Laugh faces on as the actors work. Roman watches closely, picking up on all the false steps and poorly delivered lines which he would surely have avoided if he was an actor. The story is about a school girl who gets into a relationship with an older man who turns abusive. All throughout the play she drops increasingly massive hints to her friends and family who blithely ignore her until she dies spectacularly and loudly in the final scene.

On one side of Roman, Patton is fully sobbing. On the other Virgil is quite possibly asleep. The actors come out to a smattering of applause (lead overly enthusiastically by Patton) and launch in to a pre-prepared speech. Remember the signs! Tell a parent or teacher if you’re in trouble! If you suspect your friend is in trouble! Abuse can happen to anyone! Abusers can BE anyone!

Huh. Roman thinks afterwards.

He probably doesn’t count if it’s a sibling though.

Remus isn’t a stranger. Like the man in the play. And they’re the same age.

Still.

The next day he feels like he’s in a trance.

He takes his jacket off in his first class. Art. Pat and Virgil aren’t in this class with him. Better that way.

There are bruises on his forearms. Dark splotches which are so so obviously made by fingers.

He waits. One minute. Two.

Roman! His teacher is in front of him, faster than he anticipated, alarmed look on his face. What happened to your arm?

Stay in the trance. No shaking. M-my brother did it. He wanted the TV remote.

A pause that seems to last and hour and then his teachers’ laughing a shaky laugh. Smiles at him exasperated but fond. Roman aren’t you two a little too old to be roughhousing like that?

Right

It doesn’t count.

You can’t be abused by a sibling. A few cuts, bruises, scars – that’s just sibling culture baby. Virgil and Patton have stories too – you don’t see them freezing up. Complaining

Don’t be a pussy Roman.

He puts his jacket back on and keeps it on for the rest of the day.

When they’re sixteen Remus comes home for the weekend, sits at the kitchen table and asks if Roman wants to hang out.

-Remus goes to a special school for behaviourally challenged students and only comes back every other weekend. Their parents cried when he left. Thought they’d failed. Felt devastated. Roman didn’t feel much of anything and wonders if that makes him a bad person-

Remus is calmer these days but Roman still says no. He has plans with his friends. Oh yes. Remus rolls his eyes Paddington Bore and the Virgin.

Roman glares at him. Don’t call them that. Even though that’s basically affectionate, for Remus. And Remus looks at him for a long moment before nodding. Standing up, shoving the table hard into Roman’s hip leaving him gasping in pain.

By the time he’s limped his way to Virgil’s house the sun is high in the sky. Patton suggests lazy nap time in the tree house and just looking at the ladder makes Roman want to vomit.

It’s such a beautiful day Padre he crys, lets lie amongst the wildflowers like the majestic forest nymphs we are.

Its literally just grass Virgil sighs but Patton laughs and Roman lowers himself stiffly down. Carefully keeps the pain out of his face as his hip makes contact with the ground. Turns away from them whilst he grits his teeth through it, ostensibly napping until Virgil says

Hey, how’d you get that scar?

“Roman?”

Virgil and Patton were both staring at him. Shit Roman thought. How long had he been day-dreaming? Day-reminiscing? Day-

“Earth to Roman.” Patton again, there was crinkle of concern between his eyebrows and that wouldn’t do at all.

“Well-“ Roman boomed in his best dramatic bellow, what Virgil call his ‘Prince Roman’ voice: “I am afraid I will have to disappoint you my friends, twins are not bound by your foolish ‘older sibling’ ‘younger sibling’ stereotypes”

“I mean, technically, one of you is the older sibling” Virgil muttered while Patton laughed “you’re seriously telling me neither of you ever did something dumb and got the other one hurt?”

“Virgil Madelaine McAlister-“

“Not my middle name.”

“-I will have you know that I have never done anything dumb. Ever. In my life!” he punctuated that statement with a dramatic point to the heavens. Patton was now laughing hard enough that Roman was fairly sure he should be offended and Virgil was fighting a smirk.

“You really never fight?”

“We’re a united front.” Drop it, drop it please just drop it he chanted internally.

And then, miracle of miracles, Virgil did. Letting himself flop back to the ground with a soft ‘humph’.

“It must be nice to have a twin” Patton said a little wistfully. Careful he arranged himself back on the ground so his head was cushioned on Virgil’s stomach. “you’re basically born with a ready-made friend!”

“And you get to do everything together” Virgil murmured a faint blush on his face and one hand hovering in the vicinity of Patton’s hair. “No one has to get left behind when one goes off to college.”

Roman glanced down at him, worried, but Virgil just met his gaze softly, one side of his mouth pulling up into one of his rare sweet smiles. “You’re so lucky Roman.”

Roman nodded. Ignored the quick flare of pain in his hip as he laid himself back down in the grass. He let out a contented sigh as the warmth of the ground sunk into his bones, soothing the ache

“Very lucky.” He agreed quietly.

#roman sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #unsympathetic remus #creativitwins #angsty not helathy creativitwins #fic #lockdown induced procrastination efforts #moxiety if your squint #like you dont have to squint hard #literaly never written fic before but why not is quarentine rules baby #my fic #sidespart writes

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thespianbooks · 4 years ago

Text

A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 21//

Masterlist

(tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @courtofjurdan, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @im-still-trying-here, @emikadreams, @paytin77, @mis-lil-red, @sleeping-and-books, @lucieisabooknerd, @amandaraey-sunshine, @easy-p-lemon, @azymondias05, @dagypsygirl, @makeshift-utopia) *bold tags don’t work ;-;

Sorry this is later than usual folks! Busy schedule, but I’m determined to still post on Monday’s regardless!

XXX

I couldn't have been more elated than I was when Madja officially lifted my period of confinement and bedrest. Another couple of weeks flew by since receiving the news of Eris becoming the new High Lord of Autumn, and things were moving fast. After initially sending out invitations to our allies; directing them on where to send their armies and encouraging them and their entourages to come and stay in Velaris, the last thing I wanted was to be restricted to switching from my place in bed or ambling around the estate with little else to do while Rhys, Mor, and Clotho worked seamlessly to create adequate accommodations for our guests. Though we didn't have a palace like Thesan's to host them as he did for our summits, we had more than enough space for them with the guest suites I drew into the blueprints for the estate. However, neither Rhys nor Clotho allowed me to do anything while still in recovery—even when the first of the High Lords and their entourages began to arrive.

Helion was the first, with Thesan following only a couple of days later. With them being the closest to our court, they wasted no time in gathering their numbers and were in Velaris within days following their armies. They both marveled at how far along I was now, and especially at the impressively large mound my belly had grown to. Helion had cracked a joke about my size, which earned a protective growl from my mate and an earnest laugh from me. Thesan had been rather stunned and actually worried that I might go into labor at any given second; so, whenever we were in the same room, he watched me with wary eyes—afraid that any sudden movement might bring about the labor pains. He had reacted the same way with Viviane when she attended our last summit; using whatever resources he had at his disposal, like having every available midwife in the palace, in order to make sure she was comfortable and in case of emergency.

As our plans continued to move forward, I slowly and surely regained my strength with faithful reassurance from our healer that my health was flourishing. Finally, after an agonizing two weeks—where I grew more and more antsy and eager to jump into some kind of work, Madja announced that I was fully recovered and that I had officially entered the final stage of my pregnancy. With approximately two and a half months left, ending this coup was our crucial next step in preparing for our son. The last thing Rhys and I wanted was to welcome him into the world while simultaneously trying to quell the civil unrest in our court. With the threat having loomed over us since the beginning of my pregnancy and causing my mate and I great periods of stress and nearly cost us our son's life, ending Keir's act of tyranny would grant us the peace that was long ago stolen from us. Now that the end was in sight, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief—knowing that our chances of a favorable outcome was just within our reach, and then we could shift our focus back onto welcoming our baby.

Madja's announcement had come just in time as well. Kallias and Viviane were due to finally arrive this afternoon, along with their newborn Eira. With Helion and Thesan well-adjusted and working closely with Rhys, Tarquin also having arrived just a few days ago, Kallias and Viviane were the last of our allies we would host—Tamlin and Eris remaining at their prospective courts for now but sending their contingencies of armies ahead of them. The Winter couple had wisely decided to wait the longest in order to allow the bond between them and Eira to calm. In her letters following Eira's birth, Viviane explained that while she was recovering from the ordeal, Kallias's mated instincts caused him to shelter her and Eira for nearly a month. They were also adjusting to their newborn daughter, and as mates, both of their instincts sent them into a frenzy—their innate urges compelling them to shelter their child. The first three months had been critical, Viviane explained, not only for her and Eira's recovery from the birthing process, but also in learning how to parent their daughter while their natural tendencies ruled them. Over those last three months, their compulsions slowly ebbed back into a sense of normalcy and they were able to integrate themselves back into civilization.

Rhys and I understood that level of vulnerability in a mated bond, having experienced it ourselves during my own convalescence. It only made us all the more grateful that they chose to side with us to end our dilemma, and it also provided a safe haven for Viviane and Eira. Viviane was nowhere near ready to fight three months postpartum, and since she and Kallias still couldn't be parted with each other for long, she and her baby would remain safe with me while Kallias and Rhys worked together with the other High Lords when the time for the confrontation finally came.

"Mind already abuzz this morning, Feyre darling?" Rhys purred in my ear; the arm thrown over my waist moving to pull me closer while we lay in bed.

I smiled, letting him bring me closer until my back was flush against the hard planes of his chest. I lazily checked to make sure my mental shields were intact, having just recently been able to keep them in place once again, while his lips drew a lazy line of kisses from my ear to the crook of my neck.

"How did you know?" I asked softly, turning my head into his.

"I don't need to read your mind in order to tell when you're excited, my love," he hummed.

My smile grew with a quiet laugh that quickly turned into a soft gasp as he rolled his hips into mine. I breathed his name, ready to reluctantly protest until he reminded me that with my lying-in suspended, we were clear to resume our bedroom activities—as promised between a private conversation with him and the healer. Another roll of his hips had me nodding eagerly at his silent request. Our joining was slow and gentle—Rhys taking me from behind at a leisurely pace. We took our time enjoying ourselves, delighting in being unhurried and reaching our peaks at staggered intervals.

"Now we can both greet the day with a better sense of ease." Rhys said as he nipped at my earlobe afterwards, his voice still deep and husky.

I laughed and turned onto my back to face him, resting a hand on my belly as I released a deep and relaxed sigh. "We're really going to be okay, aren't we?" I asked.

He placed a hand next to mine, running it up and down the expanse of my stomach gently. "Are you having doubts?"

I paused in thought. "I've just...been afraid. I know the situation isn't as dire as it was with Hybern, but the stakes still feel so much higher this time…"

"That's understandable," he said as he looked at my stomach. "This time you're pregnant, and we do have more to lose."

I frowned, tears swelling and threatening to fall before Rhys pressed a reassuring kiss to my brow. "But we are going to be okay, Feyre. I have promised you from the beginning that we would make it through this ordeal together, and we have. We're so close, and Keir will be dealt with. Then in a matter of months we'll be holding our son in our arms knowing his world is safer," he promised.

I blinked away my tears, Rhys brushing his thumb along my cheek gently. "I love you," I whispered.

He smiled and pressed a kiss to my lips this time. "I love you, Feyre," he said and moved to kiss the top of my stomach gently. "And I love you too, my son."

I loosed another long breath, allowing it to calm the last of my nerves as Rhys moved back to his place at my side. "Are you feeling well enough to have breakfast with the others?" He asked.

I nodded. "Should I scare Thesan by faking a few early labor pains?"

He threw his head back with a loud laugh. "You might just scare everyone, my love, including our friends who also heed your condition at all times," he answered.

I giggled and sighed dramatically. "That would be a little mean, wouldn't it?"

"Positively cruel, Feyre darling."

"All right, but I still want to find some way to torture Thesan, just a little bit."

Rhys laughed again before climbing out of bed, pulling me along with him as we began our routine in preparing for the day.

XXX

Eira was the most beautiful baby I had ever seen.

She was technically the only baby, human or high fae, that I had ever seen; yet I couldn't take my eyes off of her. Viviane and Kallias arrived promptly after lunch; Kallias having safely winnowed the three of them to the main port in Velaris, where Rhys and I happily greeted them. A sleeping Eira was wrapped up in swaddling blankets, tucked into her mother's arms and I noticed this time it was Viviane who looked wary of her surroundings rather than her mate. At the summit, Kallias had been the one on high alert—his feral intuition heightened as a natural reaction to protect his vulnerable mate. Now it seemed their roles were reversed.

While Viviane was more than glad to see me, and even delighted in how much my belly had grown over the months, she kept Eira close to her chest the entire time it took us to walk back to the estate. Even now, as the four of us were gathered in the largest guest suite we had, Viviane was perched on the settee, cradling the baby close as she nursed—Kallias and Rhys in the adjoining sitting room to allow them privacy.

"She's so tiny," I breathed, marveling as I watched the small bundle in her arms.

Viviane brightened. "She's actually a lot bigger than when she was first born," she said, touching her youngling's pale rounded cheek.

I stared as Eira let out a small groan in response to her mother's touch, continuing to suckle quietly. Her hair, as white as her parents, was a smooth and thin coating on her perfectly round head; her eyes as icy blue as Kallias's, while the rest of her features resembled Viviane exactly. She reminded me of the female's sister, who I had only seen a handful of times since the war. After recalling a conversation where the two mentioned their looks came from their family's strong lineage, it came as no surprise to see that Eira was a carbon copy of her mother.

"Does that hurt?" I asked.

"Nursing?" She shook her head when I nodded, "Not really. It took some time to adjust at first, but it's not exactly painful."

I brushed an idle hand along the expanse of my belly. "There's so much I don't know yet," I sighed.

She smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry Feyre, I had no idea what I was doing either. Right before the summit, I received a long lecture from my team of midwives on what to expect and how to care for her properly. I'm sure your healer is preparing to give you the same lesson."

I cringed. "She did say that starting at my next appointment she would be bringing along the midwife, her sister, now that I'm in the final weeks."

"Then you still have plenty of time to learn," she said. "How are you feeling?"

I sighed again as I rested against the settee. "Still tired. I'm hungry almost every hour of the day, and my back is unbelievably sore by the end of the night."

She smiled empathetically. "Are you feeling more movements from him?"

I nodded. "All the time. He's very...energetic these days, especially when Rhys is in the room, which is often. He loves to kick and stretch," I rubbed a spot on my belly for emphasis. "He used to take naps, I think, but in the last week I'm pretty sure he's decided that he won't sleep again until he's born."

Her answering laugh was melodic, Eira's stunning blue eyes fluttering open in response to the sound. "He probably won't sleep then either. Kallias and I are lucky if we get a couple of hours now; it's gotten better in the last month, but at first it's rough adapting to her schedule."

I gulped as I stared at my stomach, wondering if Rhys and I would be tormented by lack of sleep. "I don't mean to scare you," Viviane giggled. "It just takes some time to become accustomed to a youngling that's all. Once you actually see him, hold him, and nurse him...your world will revolve around him." She explained, pulling Eira away from her breast and adjusting her top expertly before scooping the youngling back up into her arms as she patted her back gently.

I laughed as that patting elicited the tiniest burp I had ever heard. "I'm assuming that's part of the nursing process?"

Viviane nodded, "Oh yes. These little ones tend to get gassy, so we help them along."

I paused for a moment as I watched her kiss Eira's cheek, cradling her close, and I imagined how in only a matter of months I would be doing the same with my son.

"Since you're here...I know you said as much in your letters...but how bad is it really? Labor?" I asked timidly.

She smiled sheepishly before contemplating how to answer me. I knew the last thing she wanted to do was instill fear in me, but I also knew she would be honest.

"I'll tell you what my midwives told me: every female's experience is different. Just as our pregnancies might differ, so will our labor's. For me, while my cycles are less than pleasant and always excruciating, I managed to find a way to alleviate the pains over the centuries. Because of that, I thought my labor would be...manageable. Unfortunately, I was wrong. It was...the hardest thing I had to endure. The pain left me...disconnected, in some way," she paused as the memories came back to her. "But Kallias was there the whole time. He kept me grounded and helped me through it all to the very end. I don't know what I would've done without him,"

She reached over to grip my hand gently. "But Feyre, you shouldn't be scared. Your mate, your Rhysand, will be there with you every step of the way too. I've seen the bond between you two, the love you share, and I have no doubt that he'll guide you through it all no matter how smooth or brutal the process might be. Who knows, maybe with his daemati abilities he could…"

I shook my head. "I don't want him to numb me. I...I want to be able to go through it as every female has for centuries. His mother endured it twice, and I figure if she could do it, if you could, then so can I."

"Of course, Feyre, if that's what you want. You do whatever is right for you," she affirmed. "In all honesty though, with Rhysand at your side you have nothing to worry about, and at the end of it all you'll welcome your son into a safe home."

I squeezed her hand, "I hope so," I admitted. I didn't have to reiterate how unsettled the coup, the very reason why she and our other allies were gathered in Velaris, left me.

She, as a new mother herself, understood perfectly. "You will," she promised. "And then you'll get to hold your beautiful boy. Have you wondered what he might look like yet?"

The image of the Bone Carver came to mind. Of those violet-blue eyes that nearly resembled mine, while all his other features were completely and utterly Rhysand.

"He'll look like Rhysand, I just know it." I said as I caressed my stomach lovingly, earning a glimmer and kick in response.

Viviane warmed as she looked at Eira, who now peacefully slept in her arms. "I was so glad when I saw that she had Kallias's eyes. I had a feeling that with my lineage she would look like me, but I still hoped she might look at least a little like Kallias. She has his spirit too, at least so far," she smiled as she smoothed the hair on the younglings head. "And Kallias, he dotes on her so much already. She hardly cries; all she has to do is wrinkle her little brow and he scoops her up."

"They say you can't spoil them at this age, but I'm sure he will as the years go on," she said.

"As I should," came her mate's voice as he walked in the room with Rhysand at his side.

My mate winked at me as he entered the room, crossing over to my side at the same time as Kallias came to Viviane's.

"I doubt our friends in the Night Court will be any different, especially with their brood." Kallias said with a smirk at me, before checking on his sleeping daughter. I noticed his fingers twitch, as if he might pick her up, but Viviane's hold was unrelenting.

"Viviane's maternal instincts are very...formidable." Kallias suddenly said, realizing my mate and I must have noticed that he hadn't held his daughter at all since their arrival. "The midwives warned us that it relates to our primitive ways; that females tend to be overprotective of their younglings for the first few months."

I blinked, and Viviane smiled sheepishly. "Back at home I don't have a hard time letting him hold and change her, but I think it's because of the change in environment now that I'm struggling."

Rhys and I exchanged an astonished look and I shrugged. "Well at least you know I won't be purposefully refusing to let you hold our son," I offered.

He smirked. "Poor Mor will be doubly disappointed, as will everyone else."

"It'll only really be intense the first week, for both of you actually," Viviane said. "The mating bond will make you both sensitive to outside influence, similar to when the bond first clicked into place."

Kallias shifted uncomfortably at the mention of something so intimate, but Rhys nodded in understanding. "We'll be in the Cabin for the duration of Feyre's recovery, so that should help."

I nodded. "The Cabin is also where you, my sisters, and I will be going...when that time comes."

"Are there any updates on that end?" Kallias asked, and I wondered what he and Rhys had been discussing in the other room if not about the business of ending the coup. "What did Eris's last report say?"

"He's managed to keep Keir at bay, hashing out details and negotiations for their supposed alliance and dragging them out for as long as he's needed to replenish the armies affected by their fighting," Rhys began. "According to his latest report, we should be expecting his soldiers any day now, along with Tamlin's."

"And then?" Viviane asked, holding Eira impossibly closer.

"Then we will lift the wards on our numbers, and have them march on the Ironcrest camp," Rhys started.

"Where that coward, Kallon, will inform Keir, and summon him here?" Kallias finished.

Rhys nodded. "Then we put an end to this for good."

I shivered at the darkness that laced in the promise of his words, and he quickly placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"What will you do with them?" Viviane quietly asked.

"Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel will deal with the Illyrians. As for Keir, we'll be handing him over to Mor. She's free to do as she wishes with him" I answered. Viviane nodded in approval, knowing the history and relationship our friend had with both her parents.

"Are you sure we can trust all of this in Eris's hands?" Kallias asked, his demeanor having shifted to a harder one.

"Azriel is keeping a close watch with his network of spies," I answered for Rhys.

"Not to mention with his court being in such shambles, entering another war against all of us, would be an extremely foolish move on his end," my mate added.

I scoffed. "Plus, he's probably enjoying his new position too much to risk losing it."

Our friends shared a wary glance, their eyes conveying their own silent exchange. "We trust you," Viviane finally said, adjusting Eira in her arms.

Rhys dipped his head in acknowledgement before turning to Kallias. "We'll ensure Viviane and Eira are safe with Feyre and her sisters in the cabin. Since the attack on Velaris we've set up stronger wards on all our properties."

Kallias's tense shoulders seemed to relax a bit at Rhys's reassurance for his daughter and Viviane's safety.

"I guess this time around you two will have to do without us." Viviane joked half-heartedly, though I could tell she harbored the same desire I had to do more for this fight.

You are doing plenty, my love, I promise you, Rhys said through the bond.

By that you mean carrying Sebastian? I mused back.

That is the most important thing right now, and more than I could have ever asked for.

I smiled at him, squeezing the hand on my shoulder, but we both looked up as a knock came from the sitting room. I saw Viviane flinch, bringing Eira close again.

"It's just Mor," Rhys reassured before waving a hand, opening the door for her.

Viviane smiled sheepishly at me as Mor entered the room. The blonde brightened when she saw her friend, but wisely didn't rush over to embrace her after noticing how protectively she held her child.

"Sorry to interrupt, I know you wanted to wait to greet the rest of us at dinner," Mor said empathetically to Viviane and Kallias. "But Azriel's spies returned from the Autumn Court with a report from Eris," she said to Rhysand and I.

"What did it say?" I asked, my heart beating faster.

"He's finalized his 'plans' with Keir, and his soldiers just arrived at Windhaven," she replied, her dark eyes hardening.

"What about the troops Spring promised?" Rhys asked, voice equally serious-his dark shadows beginning to stir.

I noticed the room growing colder as Kallias's own powers stirred at the news. "Cassian reported they're set to arrive at dawn," Mor said.

"So, it's time then, to lift the wards?" I asked—my words coming out more tense than I meant.

Rhys nodded stiffly. "As soon as the Spring soldiers arrive, we'll lift the wards. Keir and Kallon will surely meet us once we arrive at the Ironcrest camp."

"How long will that take, approximately?" Kallias asked, moving closer to his wife and mate-who rested her cheek atop Eira's head, still swaddled and sleeping in her arms.

"A day or two, at the most," Rhys answered.

We all exchanged the same strained, knowing, look and I wondered if they could hear the pounding of my heart as it settled over me that the time for this ill-fated encounter was at last about to reach its conclusion.

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idiot-children · 4 years ago

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did somebody say u h h more roman angst?

(sidenote: i Very Much Enjoy the headcanon that Janus can make people tell him the truth That Is All)

(i also don't have a title because i'm lazy)

"Roman, I'm sorry."

Roman sat stubbornly in front of his door, listening to Janus's knocking getting louder and louder. He scoffed.

"Roman, I'm telling the truth, just, please listen to me, talk to me, I was upset, I didn't mean it."

"I'm sure you didn't." He muttered, burying his head in his knees.

"Oh, Roman, please don't get like this, childishness doesn't suit you."

"Your... your stupid hat doesn't suit you," he snapped, grasping for insults, "leave me alone."

Janus sighed and massaged his temples. "I'm not leaving until you talk to me face to face."

There was a pause. The door slammed open to reveal Roman, red-faced with puffy eyes and a glare that would have ended the conversation in three seconds flat if looks could kill.

"What do you want?"

"Really? No witty nickname or insulting quip? You must be feeling off." Janus smirked, face falling at the lack of a response. He sighed. "Listen. I told you already, I didn't mean it. You're nothing like your brother. I was upset, you have to understand that-"

"I don't have to understand shit." Roman spat. "You're evil! You're a villain! You're deceiving and manipulating Thomas, so he-"

"Yes, yes, I heard you the first few times. Do you have anything else to say, or are you just going to continue throwing baseless accusations at me while I try to apologise?"

"I-" He paused. "Maybe? Are you leaving yet?"

There was another tense moment of silence, before Janus finally had enough and walked towards the prince, grabbing him by the wrist and looking him directly in the eyes. "Roman," he asked, slowly. "Are you okay?"

The answer was quick and monotone, like he wasn't expecting to speak at all. "No." He looked up in shock and stared angrily at the snake, who was looking insufferably concerned for him.

"Why not?"

"I'm scared that Thomas doesn't respect me anymore-! Wha- what witchcraft is this? Cease your trickery at once!" He yelled, trying as hard as he could to pull his wrist away but to no avail, and now sounding more frightened than angry.

"I'm sorry," Janus murmured, sounding genuinely apologetic. "It has to be done."

"It- does- not-!" Roman was shouting now, tugging on his arm and almost pleading with his eyes to be let go. "Unhand me! I do not owe vulnerability to the likes of you!"

"Really? Then, please, enlighten me, who can you be vulnerable with?"

"Nobody- stop!"

"Why not?"

"I'm supposed to be the protector. I shouldn't be giving them more problems to deal with." His voice cracked as he spoke, using his free hand to wipe tears from his eyes before they dared to fall. "Deceit, please. I don't want to talk about it. No- it's not even relevant! You're evil! You're making me lie for your- your own sick enjoyment?"

Janus sighed. "You and I both know that isn't true. I don't even think you believe it yourself."

"Oh, I believe it alright, you're a villain, and I hope Thomas-"

"Why are you lying to me, Roman?"

He paused. Hesitated. Tried desperately to cover his mouth with his free hand but found it unable to move. "Because- because I don't have anything else!" he sobbed. "Because I needed a villain and I'd rather villainise you than get attached again!"

Janus blinked. He let his grip on Roman's wrist loosen, not being surprised when he yanked his arm away from him. "Get... attached? Again?"

Roman's fear was almost tangible. He nodded slowly, barely knowing what to say. He considered just insulting him and leaving, but-

But he had nowhere to go. He didn't want to see Patton. Logan didn't want to see him. And he didn't exactly feel like increasing his anxiety at the moment. So he settled for attempting an explanation.

"I- uh- You-"

Maybe Virgil was here. He was certainly feeling like it.

"You complimented me! You were nice to me! I- I just... felt wanted. And don't think I didn't know you were manipulating me! I knew! Of... of course I knew. I just couldn't help it. I liked you."

"Roman-"

"I don't want to hear it!" He snapped, wiping away tears before they dared to fall. "Do you think I didn't see the irony in being the only one to get along with the liar? Do you think I didn't know you were spitting out empty, fake, shallow compliments just to get me on side? Did you think I was surprised when you told me you were only flattering me because you needed to? No!"

The poor prince was crying now, unable to stop the flood of angry tears running down his cheeks. Janus couldn't find the words.

"I knew all of that. I'm just... stupid. And alone. And unwanted. And you made me feel... less like that. I knew you didn't really think any of that. But I could dream. I'm allowed to dream! That's all I'm good for!"

"Roman," Janus walked hesitantly forward, cupping Roman's face with one hand. The lack of resistance surprised him slightly. "You aren't any of those things."

"Don't." He growled.

"The others still love you."

"Stop."

"You aren't alone."

"Stop it!" He yelled, pulling sharply away and staring him down.

"We-"

"I said stop!" Roman shouted, finally cracking under the stress and slapping the former dark side so hard that he stumbled into a door, knocking his hat onto the floor. It was silent for an agonising few seconds as Janus realised what had happened and Roman tried to pretend that it hadn't. Roman was the one to break the silence. "Look, I'm sorry-"

"No, I'm sorry." Janus responded curtly, dusting off his outfit and standing up. "I've never been good at empty comforts anyway. Go to Patton if you want that kind of thing."

Roman blinked.

"Listen. I'm not going to pretend I meant any of the things I said at the time, because lying to you wouldn't exactly be helpful. But I am going to tell you that I'm sorry. And that isn't a lie. I mean it."

The prince just sat on the end of his bed, not even bothering to hide his wreck of a face. Janus walked closer, but kept a respectful distance. Just in case.

"Empty compliments won't help, so I'll talk facts to you. You're insecure, you have awful self-esteem issues, and you have an over-reliance on the concept of black-and-white morality. You're incredibly arrogant and self-aggrandising and it's increasingly obvious to everyone around you that you use that as a way to hide your crippling self-doubt from anyone who might actually dare to ask you what you're thinking."

"Way to make a guy feel good..." He murmured, rubbing his arm.

"But!" Janus continued. "You are passionate in everything you do, no matter how much you may doubt yourself. You assert your opinion and make sure you're heard, even if everybody else is against you, and sometimes even if it isn't even your own. Even when you're only acting to hide your feelings, your acting is sublime, and I have to admit that I could learn something from you. You are an asset to Thomas's personality. You are incredibly important to his mental health, considering that you literally represent all of his desires, and that puts a lot of strain on you. You are flawed. As are we all. But you are not as bad as you make yourself out to be."

Roman smiled weakly, still unable to look him in the eyes. Janus picked up his hat and placed it carefully over his tangled bedhead, winking. "My hair takes very kindly to wearing a hat all the time."

He playfully put a finger over his lips. "Don't tell." Roman rolled his eyes and mimicked the motion.

"Well, I'll take my leave, then."

He was just about to exit the room, when Roman looked up, giving what seemed to be (and Janus would know) a genuine smile.

"Thank you. For this, I mean. I needed it."

"Oh, really, it was nothing-"

"No, I mean it." He continued, seriously. "Thank you, Janus."

Janus hesitated, one hand on the door. Then smiled. "Won't see you soon."

"Yeah. You too."

#roman sanders #sanders side fic #deceit sanders #sanders sides #roman angst #janus sanders #sanders sides angst #putting others first #chapter 2 of I Don't Know How To Tage Things #he's my favourite character and therefore he must suffer

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anika-ann · 4 years ago

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The Troubles Are Lurking in Queens - Pt.1

Of Arrogant Lawyers and Cheerful… Spider Vigilantes?

Pairing: Matt Murdock x reader Word count: 1860

Type: Two-shot, reader insert

Warnings: swearing, mention of attempted assault and a gun and a knife, pregnancy, adorable Peter Parker aka your friendly neighbour Spiderman

Summary: When an arrogant lawyer demands his paperwork right now or better yet this very moment, you’re a good wife to Matt and decide to deliver the documents yourself – for your husband’s mental health sake (and for the sake of the meeting he’s running to).

The catch is the said lawyer has his office in Queens – and whoever said Hell’s Kitchen was the least safe place in NYC was clearly lying.

You were staring at barrel of a gun. And your first thought was: the universe is punishing me for falsifying legal documents.

It happened approximately like this:

“Mr. Davidson-” Matt murmured, massaging the bridge of his nose, giving up the struggle of tying up his tie with one hand. Though that might have had something to do with the fact you snatched the said hand away to do it for him.

“I understand you would like to have the-"

You couldn’t make out a word, but the male voice on the other end sounded downright outraged. This Mr. Davidson had been pissing you off for quite a while; he was the opposite counsel on one of Matt’s cases and he was making everything difficult in the line of paperwork, well-aware Matt was going to dismantle him.

He. Was. Indescribably. Arrogant. Which was something you just couldn’t stand and it drove you up the wall.

“I just don’t have time right— no, I do not have a messenger boy on my disposal just to deliver the documents to you, you can be sure as-" You covered Matt’s mouth before he could swear, gaining a look as grateful as frustrated and wounded.

Oh yeah, you would love to even send this guy to hell and back just to kick him back down there, but Matt had a professional image to maintain. He inhaled deeply.

“Mr. Davidson, I’ll even deliver you the document myself-"

“With coffee and ‘go fuck yourself’…” you hummed as you finished the tie, causing the corners of Matt’s lips twitch.

“-but I just can’t do it before noon.”

Matt listened to the man’s raised voice for a while, grinding his teeth.

You felt really sorry for Matt. And what did a good wife do when feeling sorry for her husband? Helped him.

“I can deliver it.”

Matt shook his head, covering the phone. “I need to print it in non-braille version somewhere and sign it. I don’t have time for that-"

“I can sign it,” you shrugged. Matt’s eyebrow shot up. “What? I saw you sign stuff more times than I can count. It will be fine.”

“That’s a fraud.”

“It stays in a family. I’ll be signing by my own last name.”

Matt’s features softened at the note, but he didn’t change his mind. “That’s still a fraud, sweetheart.”

You pointed at the phone wordlessly; the man on the other end of the was so caught up in his monologue, enchanted by listening to the sound of his own voice, that he didn’t even notice no one was responding.

Matt pouted in an ‘okay, you have a point’ way. His eyebrow furrowed with concern – of course it did. He always worried about you, sometimes for a good reason, however, lately… ever since you two had found out you were going to be parents, a new life growing in your belly… well. Matt was anxious and downright paranoid.

“You would do it?”

“Sure. I could use a walk.” Oh, you could. You might be having a day off, but sitting on a couch all day might actually kill you.

“It’s in Queens.”

“...and a subway ride.”

He still seemed to struggle.

“-are you even listening to me?!”

And that did it. Matt cracked. “Of course, Mr. Davidson. You’ll have the documents before noon.”

“Now was that so hard?”

Matt inhaled sharply and you quickly took the phone from his hand.

“Mr. Murdock put you through to me. I’ll deliver you the documents. It was a pleasure to deal with you, Mr. Davidson,” you chatted sweetly and ended the call. Matt was watching you, pressing his lips together, clearly holding back a smile.

“You’re a mischief.”

He kissed you forehead lovingly.

“Me?” you asked innocently. “I was perfectly polite. He was being a dick. Now, you mean the papers for the Howard’s case, right? Speak fast or you really will be late for your meeting…”

That was how you found yourself on your way to Mr. Davidson’s office in Queens, two copies of whatever paperwork with yours/Matt’s signature and the bloody Google maps app that wasn’t counting on alleyways. And you had about four extra pounds just in your belly, so you really wanted to count any shortcut in.

On a second thought, maybe God was not punishing you for the little fraud with the signatures but for your laziness.

Now you were staring at a barrel of a gun, four pounds of living growing mass of your baby in your belly and you really didn’t know how to fight the mugger off. The memory of Matt’s voice reminding you the first rule – run from the danger – was shushed by a dreamed voice of his that was telling you to just give the thug your fucking purse, because running was not an option in your state and situation; on top of everything, Mr. Davidson’s ‘now was that so hard?’ mocked you and you mentally yelled YES.

“Are you deaf too? Give me your fucking bag!”

“Okay, okay— just… just don’t shoot! I’ll give you my phone and wallet, but I have some legal papers I can’t-”

He shot into air and you jumped, your instinct screaming at you how to disarm him – Matt had taught you how, you had actually done it before, because you fucking lived in Hell’s Kitchen, the most dangerous area in NYC, Matt had taught you for a reason. But another instinct – not to take any risks and protect your baby – was much stronger. You gulped, feeling tears gathering in your eyes.

“Please, just— just don’t hurt me.” Don’t hurt the baby. “Here-"

You barely managed to extend your hand with the handbag when something white curled around the gun – more like cocooned it – and pulled the weapon away.

Both you and your assailant gasped.

“Fuck.”

“Up here, bad guy!” a cheerful male voice called out and you fought the urge to look up, not wanting to leave the still dangerous man out of your sight.

Good thing you didn’t; he pulled out a knife and lunged after you.

You barely dodged the knife and caught his forearm. He seemed surprised at your defence, but let the knife fall, trying to catch it with his free hand. You listened to your first instinct – you deflected the knife before he caught it.

You managed to kick his knee and then his both legs were suddenly tied together with the strange white-- thingie and the thug was pulled away, cursing.

You blinked in shock, looking in the direction he was being dragged. A strange man of not so strong built, dressed in blue and red costu— armour, it must have been an armour, because he was obviously stopping a crime in a dress-up, which made him a vigilante. And as a vigilante wife, you knew vigilantes were in fact not wearing costumes, but armours.

“What kind of a douche attacks a pregnant woman?!” he demanded exasperatedly and with one motion of his wrist, the mugger’s hands were tied too. “Coward!”

And he knocked him out, tossing him aside, looking up at you. What kind of a mask was that? The strange eye area-- and was that a spider emblem on his chest?

He took several steps towards you and you instinctively stumbled back.

This guy might have saved your ass, but he was still a stranger, shooting some white sticky substance from his wrist and he was wearing a spider themed cos- armour and it was really creepy. Which said something considering your own husband was lurking at night dressed like the Devil himself.

“Hey, it’s okay! I’m not gonna hurt you! I promise!”

He held out his hands, showing you they were empty and that he meant no harm. Jesus, he was so thin. Was he even a man? Was he a kid? Like, a teenager? His voice sounded like it still some masculine changes to go through.

“Who are you?” you asked cautiously. ‘How old are you?’

“I came to help! I’m just your friendly neighbour Spiderman!”

The who now? “I’m not... from the neighbourhood. I’m-"

“-BLEEDING! Oh god, oh god. You really showed the guy, but you’re bleeding. Oh god, oh shit— now that’s more money to the swear jar-" the kid, and you were now sure he was a kid, started panicking and you had no idea why, because-- oh.

Your hand was bleeding.

“Oh.”

“Oh god, I have to get you to a hospital-"

You froze. “That’s not necessary-” You didn’t have time for a hospital now. You needed to deliver the stupid papers; your hand had to wait, it didn’t look too deep, you’d be fine. Though it did kinda hurt, how had you missed that?

“What?!” the kid squeaked. “You’re bleeding! I should have done better, oh no-"

You felt a ridiculous urge to comfort him all of sudden, so you crossed the distance, boldly caressing his arm.

“Hey, no, you did great-"

“But you’re bleeding, miss— madam? I should probably go with madam-"

You pressed her lips together so you wouldn’t laugh at his babbling. Had he noticed your ring? Maybe it was your growing belly.

“It’s alright, Spiderman. You saved me from getting shot and mugged, that’s wonderful.”

He looked up. “So you’re not mad at me? Why don’t you want me to take you to the hospital then?”

“Because-"

“Of course! Karen, call mister Stark!” he blurted out, delighted he found a solution.

“What?!”

You wanted to ask who Karen was and where she had been hiding, but Stark’s name kinda caught your attention more urgently. Call Stark? You would hope he was talking about a different Stark, but this kid had some sort of a suit and was playing hero, so-

“It’s okay, he’ll help-” the boy was quick to reassure you, poor kid not having clue why you did not want to see Tony Stark in the slightest.

“No!”

“He’s a good guy!”

“I don’t need-"

“Oh, Mr. Stark! Thank god. I have a woman— no, not a girlfriend, I mean-- no, not an experimental intimate stuff mentor-"

You almost choked on your own spit. Now you had no doubt he was talking to Tony freaking Stark, because he would make a remark like that. Wonderful. You hadn’t been interacting too much with Tony; in fact, you had only met once, the meeting being pretty intense, with blood, kidnapping and stuff.

“An injured one! She was almost mugged and she’s pregnant and she’s bleeding— from her hand!” he explained exasperatedly, gesturing wildly with his hands. “And she wouldn’t go to the hospital and she’s saying it’s not necessary, but-”

There was a short silence and you wondered what Tony was saying, where, when, how and WHY had he recruited a kid and what the hell was all this.

You checked the time, finding out you really needed to go.

“I’ll show you how she is. Karen, initiate a video call-"

“No! Wait!” you yelped, lunging after a non-existent phone, desperately wanting to stop him. Oh no, please, you so didn’t have time for Tony Stark. You were sure that if Stark saw you, he would recognize you and-

“Mr. Stark is saying I should definitely bring you-"

-and would want you to come.

You raised your hands in defensive gesture. “I’m walking away.”

You looked around, gathered your handbag and stuff, spun on your heels-

“No way! Mr. Stark thinks you need medical attention-"

“I’ll make sure he needs medical attention unless I’m walking away.,” you growled loudly, more annoyed than anything else. “I really need to deliver these papers-"

“Oh! Where?! I’ll drop them off for you, madam! Maybe it’s even on our way! Where do you need them?”

You were so stunned you stuttered an address.

“Great! Let’s go!”

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Part 2 (final)

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Thank you for reading!

(This is an oldie, might feel a bit different than my usual stuff)

#fanfiction #marvel #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock imagine #peter parker #peter parker imagine #matt murdock #mcu #daredevil #spiderman #daredevil fanfiction #matt murdock fanfiction #spiderman fanfiction #imagine #marvel fanfic #the troubles are lurking in queens #anika ann

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