#it hurts hurts hurts in this stupid fucking brain

[sim0nril3y]

Nightmares

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: After finally moving in with Simon you are still dealing with the aftermath of having your flat broken into. Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), mention of nightmares, anxiety, angst truama from previous event, comfort, canon-typical swearing.

A sudden shift came from beside Simon that startled him from his sleep, glancing in you direction you were sat upright. Leaning over he flicked on the lamp and then rubbed your back in a soothing way. “Y’okay?” His voice was nothing but a deep grog.

Ever since you’d moved in together there had been nights that you would be jolted away from a bad dream. You’d taken the time to explain to him that sometimes your usually sweet dreams had been plagued with nightmares of your old flat and even this new home together been broken into. There was some obvious trauma there, residual pain from having someone evading your private space.

“Mm, I’m okay.” You replied back, your voice equally as tired. “I’m just gonna make a warm milk or something.” You muttered, climbing from the sheets. “Go back to sleep.”

Simon watched as you trudged from the room with a frown present on his lips, watching you close the door soft and he faltered back onto the pillows. He hated the thought that you were so effected by this. Of course, his own brain was plagued with his own deeply traumatic moments that had filled in his life, but to think that you were suffering the same hurt him so deeply. He needed to fix this… if it could be fixed.

After a few moments Simon wandered downstairs himself to find you sat at the kitchen table, hands cupped around a warm mug of milk. “Babe.” He muttered seeing the tears present on your cheeks. “Bloody hell.” Muttering under his breath as he wrapped his arms around you, tugging you into the warmth of his chest. “Deep breaths now. C’mon.” He pressed a kiss to your hairline. “Shh... S’alright…”

The two of you stood in the sanctity of your kitchen, wrapped in one another’s arms whilst Simon muttered sweet sentiments to you. “Talk to me.” He requested, rubbing between your shoulder blades soothingly as he took a seat beside you. “It’s stupid.” You muttered out in a voice that you filled with emotion, drying your eyes with the back of your hand whilst you sniffled. “I kept having these stupid nightmares and I wasn’t even in the damn flat when it was broken into-”

Simon couldn't allow this attack on yourself. “Just stop for a second.” He requested. “Even if you weren’t inside it, doesn’t mean your personal space wasn’t violated, babe.” Simon said, shaking his head then. “You’re allowed to feel sad about that. You’re allowed to feel scared.” He said then. “I was fuckin’ scared.” The admission seemed to surprise you both. “When you called me that night, when I heard your voice... when I got there and saw the police… fuck, I was… fuckin’ terrified.”

You sniffled. “Really?” “Really.” His voice was practically stoic, squeezing your shoulder. “S’why I got this place set up like the Tower of London, babe.” A little sad laugh escaped your lips. “Locks on every door, cameras set up, alarms galore…” Listing all the reasons made you feel just that bit safer. “Then if anyone by some fluke was able to get through that then they’d have to get through me too…”

There was no one you trusted more to have your back than Simon. He was a unit. He was an impressive force, you felt it when he held you, when he lifted you, even when he made love to you... God, you could almost feel sorry for anyone who came up against him in combat.

Sniffling you asked. “What if you’re not here?” There were going to be times, many times when Simon would have to leave you alone, leave you to fend yourself… the thought of that seemed to bring him a great deal of discomfort, almost a sense of terror. Clearing his throat and shaking his head. “Mm, then how about we look into getting you into a self-defence class, eh?” It was a suggestion and actually it was a pretty good one, Simon watched the way your eyes seemed to fill with almost hope. “We can get you taught some things to you'll be able to protect yourself…”

A little nod was you reply as you asked in a small voice. “Yeah, can we do that?” “Course we can, babe.” Simon wrapped you into his arms again then, tugging you into his lap. “It’s gonna be alright… I promise.” He mentioned in a warm tone.

Masterlist | Ask | 27-01-2025

[be-xkyy]

Tw: unprotected sex, rough sex, jealousy, mild abuse, insults, reader bimbo.

Yandere bf! Jock who is the star captain of the school's football team.

He is truly the golden boy.

With his gorgeous smile, blue eyes, and dirty blonde hair. He is surrounded by girls constantly, beautiful girls but he only has eyes for his dumb cute cheerleader girlfriend, YOU.

Always sucking his dick before a game letting him film you as he cums all over your face, pumping his cock until ropes of thick cum paint your face ruining your makeup and staining your hair, he rubs his cock against your shiny lips.

“Ugh– that was so good– what do you say sweetie?”

“Thanks for cumming on my face daddy~”

He smiles when he sees you cheering him on during the game jumping up and down, he licks his lips when he sees your cute little ass and tits bouncing in that tight uniform, you wiggle your pom poms vigorously and blow him a kiss when you see him looking at you. So fucking sweet.

The one who fucks you in the empty locker room after every game, fucking you sweetly when he wins, sucking on your tits, leaving kisses and bites all over your neck as his cock buries deep inside you, he murmurs sweet nothings against your ear.

“Such a pretty girl– so sexy when she cheers on her man”

“God your pussy wants some attention, should I rub it? Of course she wants to fuck– she begs me to rub it”

“I'm gonna give you the best orgasm of your life babe, you'll be full of my cum until next week– Ha”

Oh... but when the team loses he's completely different.

Like now.

He drags you down the halls walking straight to the locker room pushing you inside roughly ignoring your whimper of pain as he locks the door, you rub your arm and try to talk to him “Baby that hurts–”

“Shut the fuck up bitch! What the fuck was that out there?! Were you flirting with the captain of the other team?!”

His voice is filled with anger, he looks at you with furious eyes and you try to back away when he gets closer which seems to annoy him more, he grabs you by the arms pushing you face down on the bench and growls against your hatred.

“Answer me fuck! What the fuck were you doing talking to him? Do you want to bounce on his dick just because he won? Huh?!”

“No! I just wanted to be nice–”.

“Liar! Shit you want to drive me crazy, is that it?! I'm not an idiot I know what I see!”

He yells at you not even letting you finish, he pulls down your extra shorts and panties hard scratching your legs, his hand quickly pulls out his cock the vein running through it is swollen and the weeping tip is red.

“I'm gonna fuck you until you come to your senses you stupid girl. There's no one like me! I'm the only one who would want a girl as dumb as you!”

With that he rams you in all the way, his cock touching your cervix and his balls slapping against your ass, he fucks you mercilessly as his hands squeeze your ass cheeks his fingers dig into your skin tomorrow you'll have bruises.

“Silly girl, acting like a whore... like she doesn't have her man watching her”

Annoyed murmurs escape his lips as he pounds into you like an animal in heat, you let out high pitched moans hiding your face in your arms, he fucks you like he wants to rearrange your insides. Your eyes roll back with each thrust that abuses your G-spot.

“Who’s the only one for you? Come on tell me who’s fucking you so good?”

He asks between gasps and grunts clearly getting close to the edge, your dumb brain takes a while to understand his question not being able to think of anything else but his cock deep inside your pussy, you reply between moans.

“You! You’re the only one for my daddy! You, you, you!”

“Good girl, at least you’re smart about something~”

Your walls clench at his words and you squeeze your eyes shut, your skin is hot and you feel fire in your veins, the orgasm is approaching and your toes curl as you cum your love juices wet his cock.

He growls as your walls clench tightly around his throbbing cock and as his body tenses with the impending orgasm he pulls out of your pussy pumping furiously as he explodes, covering your ass and back with his hot cum that stains your top.

“Shit— that was great, that's a nice pussy you have baby”

He says as he smears his cum all over your back and ass with his fingers and you hum tiredly but happily, the moment interrupted when someone tries to open the closed door, the handle turning vigorously.

“What are you doing in there? Open the door right now!”

Damn it, it's the coach...

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Latin

Steven Grant x gn!Reader • Rating: PG pals •  Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? •

Summary: Steven helps you learn latin.

A/N: This is also self indulgent as fuck. I'm sorry. (I am angry at learning languages as well.)

Warnings: fluff, kisses, pet names, reader doesn't know latin very well/at all and Steven is learning, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 461

“So, ‘it’s raining’, would be?” Steven smiles as he asks the question, the text book in his hands open to the current page - something that should be helpful. 

You give him a despondent look. 

“It’s okay, take your time.” His voice is so cheery, soft and pleasant and you want to hit your head against the desk repeatedly. Maybe then at least one or two words would actually sink in. 

You sigh, “nescio.” I don’t know.

“Oh, love, it’s okay, I know you know it.” He smiles again. He’s being so helpful that it hurts. You’d taken an interest in Latin because Steven was learning it, you thought it would be a nice thing, something fun you could do with him. And he’d been ecstatic that you’d wanted to, so excited that he would have someone to practise with. 

“I dooon’t.” You slump down in your chair. Stupid fucking dead language with its stupid fucking rules and your stupid fucking brain for just erasing everything you try to learn the second after you’ve learnt it. 

Steven wraps an arm around your shoulder and leans his head against yours. “It’s okay, hey,” he helps you to sit up again and strokes your cheek. “You look like you’re about to cry.” 

“I am.” You grumble. “I’m so stupid.” 

“You’re not stupid. Don’t say that.” There’s a slight harshness to his tone that you haven’t heard before, as if you were insulting him and not yourself. His disappointment permeates your bones. You really want to cry now. 

You open your mouth to apologise, but Steven hugs you tightly with both arms. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” He soothes, “Don’t cry over some stupid words, you’re so wonderful. Latin’s just silly, I mean, have you seen how they write big numbers? All those D X V C blah blah blah, who’s got time for that? No one.” 

As you pull back a fraction he gives you a lopsided smile. 

“Why won’t any of it stick?” You mutter glumly. 

“It will, it will.” 

“It won’t.” You pull a face for his amusement and grin when he giggles. 

“It will. You’re so smart,” he rubs your arm comfortingly. “You’re just stressing yourself out.” 

You open your mouth.

“And don’t say you’re not.” He chuckles, “Because you are.” 

You lay your head on his shoulder. “Stupid words, I’m usually so good with words. Words love me.” 

“They do love you,” he soothes, “they love you too much in fact, they’re all jumping around and vying for your attention. Misbehaving. I’ll sort them out.”

You snort. “Yeah.” 

He kisses the top of your head. “Yeah. Don’t beat yourself up about it.” He says as he squeezes you a little tighter, as if he could push all your negative thoughts away. 

Thank you for reading!

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[crescenthistory]

There is no safe space to cause detriment to. You are all so destructive in just how you are that there is no safety here. You’ve all got such mortal flaws. You, Carina, are so stupid and unlovable it’s causing the deaths of all those around you. Don’t you think your friends would be alive if you had been smart enough to check in on them? Both the little sister and your old best friend. I see what you write. Don’t you think your aunt would be alive if you were worth staying for? You aren’t. Same for Elle, she’s so arrogant and narcissistic. Had she been able to see those around her, her niece surely wouldn’t have died. It’s her fault, really. This poor “Sagittarius queen” is forever doomed to have her memory dragged through the mud by Elle. And anyone who knows Keke probably want to blow their brains out, too. Who could blame them!

this post goes out to the fucked up person wreaking havoc in our community with these asks that i and many others have been getting for a few weeks. this is me officially telling you to fuck off. you are vile. you are so so vile.

i know it won’t change anything, but i’m also tired of receiving them silently and choosing peace.

you are so despicably obsessed and — as you rightfully said to elle — cruel. i could write a hundred paragraphs about it. i have blocked you everywhere for a reason, your insistence to keep coming back is an excellent reflection of who you are. first you love me and want to protect me from people who haven’t even hurt me in the first place — then you decide to be the one inflicting pain?

none of these are okay. you are not okay.

if you think people are being cruel to me by what??? literally what?? not following me? not being my friend in the way you think they should? then what the fuck do you think you’re getting out of messages like these. you said at one point that “you’ve made people hate me” — if that was your goal, you have failed, because all they do is hate you.

i am so glad i am a stable individual with a good support system around me. i sincerely hope everyone else you’re harassing also has that, because despite what you insist, they are wonderful people. no one deserves this.

you genuinely are a dangerous individual. i will keep blocking and reporting you until you go away. i just had to say my fucking piece because i refuse to be used and stepped on like this and have my loved ones be spoken about like this.

from the bottom of my heart, go fuck yourself.

[intersexcat-tboy]

I don't know how many times I have to say it but it is in fact bigoted to threaten to kill a minority after they point out their oppression. Status-quo-hater was speaking about how your friend was promoting intersexism and you threatened to kill it. Threatening violence towards minorities when they try to discuss things is a very common way to prevent them from discussing it.

Again, I do not care if you've changed your mind. The fact is you threatened a minority with a torturous death because they asked you(r friend) to stop spreading intersexism. You then continued to harass it despite asking to be left alone. You, someone not of the minority, believe you have the power to decide what is or is not bigoted towards a minority (that again, you are not a part of!). I don't care if you've learned since then, you still responded by asserting your opinion as if you know better than the minority about their own oppression, that you get to decide whether or not you're hurting someone, not them ("buzzword" "false accusations"). Bias is not always present in the words themselves, it often presents itself in actions and treatment

You said before "I refuse to google anything because google kills my shitty phone" so I'm confused now as to what causes it— your disability preventing you, or that you refuse to bc of your shitty phone?

Moron (link), "your dumb ass" (link), "brain dead", "that's called being undereducated so he's legally stupid lol", "idiots", "we're gonna die […] from his sheer stupidity" (link), "brain dead" x2 (link) are all ableist phrases

R slur (link) x2 (link)

I wanted to stay more directly on topic but apparently you've asked if you "should be given the n word pass" to use it on someone because you "need to let [your] anger out", which is related as it further goes to show your support of minorities is conditional and dependant on if they're one of the good ones (who never say anything bad)

"never call me ableist" why? You are just as culpable as anyone else who uses ableist slurs. Stop trying to use your victimhood to absolve yourself of harm and accountability

So you admit you were an asshole after directly saying how you "did nothing fucking wrong here"? Which is it, or is it both, that you believe yourself to be a righteous, justified asshole?

Leaving these here just in case, under a read more. First image is cut off by trim but the entirety of text can be read when in full screen

okay so someone who's done their research and is more well versed in intersex stuff please come over here and tell me wtf perisex is. I wish to know. if you could also provide information about intersex as a thing, the issues intersex people have to deal with (I think it's all classed as intersexism but idk), and other stuff, that'd be great.

[eris-snow]

13. 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐁𝐨𝐱

Tags: bakugoux fem!reader, juxtaposition, angst,fluff, falling in love, playing piano together

13 is an unlucky number.

20th April

There’s streamers on the ground and balloons on the ceiling. All it takes is for Katsuki to hear the confetti poppers release to realise—Oh, shit, it’s my fucking birthday.

There’s a cake Sato’s made and the class settles on the plush sofas for a movie night, but not before they bury him with his presents big and small. A year ago, he never thought he’d be able to get to where he was today a whole. Two years ago, he got his physical and mental wellbeing fucked up and almost died in war.

Katsuki looks at the candles and blows out all 18 of them, a wish caught between his lips and windpipe. When Denki and Mina pester him about it, he waves them off and tells them to die. Wishes don’t come true if you share them, after all.

I hope you will be at my birthday next year.

I wish to break Reset, wish you could be seen.

Wish I could save you.

—

There’s a knock on the door as Katsuki hollers to answer. The only thing that greets his eyes is a present wrapped neatly in the same shade of canary yellow your cord is. Shredding the wrapping paper, he’s greeted by a mini Venus flytrap as a note that falls out.

Katsuki picks the paper up and unfolds it with an inkling of who it might be from. The handwriting is shit but legible.

Happy birthday, Bakugou. Rmb to give it lots of sunlight and feed it live insects. If you can’t keep it alive for a year, you owe me 1000 yen and your thumbs.

–

Katsuki digs up the score sheet Eijiro found and reads over it again.

‘Nuvole Bianche—Duet version.’

One of the scores your professor gave him, probably. The yellow cord dances around it playfully, coiling around his finger and tugging him to the hall.

“No.” He scolds.

The string unwinds, rewinds, and circles the score, determined and unwilling to take no for an answer.

“Fuck off, would you?” He groans, flopping against his bed. After his last outburst in front of you, he’s just—he just can’t face you. His palms get sweaty and there’s a flush on his face and he can’t control his stupid heart rate. It’s not normal, and part of him has a creeping suspicion as to why.

He eyes the score again and then exhales. Katsuki can’t ignore you forever, and heroes aren’t wimps, so he grabs the score and opens his balcony window.

It hurts to be near you, but it hurts even more to stay away.

—

Katsuki wrenches open the curtains to see you playing the piano. The cord wraps around you and the instrument, sleek and black and so goddamn shiny. It seems like you’ve taken a liking to his jacket, because that’s all he ever sees you wear now. It’s grey, lint-covered fabric resting comfortably on your shoulders.

With slacks, a messy bun, thin-rimmed glasses and earpods, it seems like you were back to transcribing another song. Figures, because when you look at him and upturn your lips, his brain stutters.

“Hey.” Your eyes flicker from his face to the scoresheet in his hands. “Whatcha got there?”

Katsuki’s mind goes uhh, and he answers. “Found this in the box we got from the storage unit. Recognise it?”

Your eyes light up like stars on Christmas Eve (stars?). “So you had it!” You squeal, taking it out of his hands gingerly and smoothing it out. “I thought I lost it, or…or threw it away—”

“Slow down, blabbermouth, what the hell are you talking about?!”

You flip it to him, giving him the stupidest fucking grin he’s ever seen.

“It’s our duet!”

Katsuki looks at you like you’ve been catapulted out of a UFO.

“When we were younger, we used to play these duet pieces our professor gave us. Got bored of playing the standard ones and decided to write a duet of a song we actually liked.” Fake smiles and trembling fingers, fuck no, he refuses to make you sad now.

“We wrote a duet of Nuvole Bianche by ourselves?”

“Yeah.”

Katsuki gives you a hard stare.

“…Sensei might have helped out a little.” More staring.

“A lot.”

Silence.

You pat the piano seat and avoid eye contact. “You wanna try?”

“You’re funny, now scoot over.”

—

“Thanks for the plant, by the way.”

“Oooh, you got it? What are you gonna name it? Snappy? Chomper—?”

“The hell? I’m not gonna name it—!”

“I got it! Sir Traps-a-lot!”

“I will start eating humans if you name my plant that.”

“Aw, cannibalism.”

—

Katsuki doesn’t know what to call this. This thing he does where he draws open the curtain, gets invited to sit beside you with the sweetest smile, and relearns music notion. It may have been years since he last touched the keys, but memory lies in practice, so he picks it up after one or two days off you teaching him how to play.

See the unseen, find what has been lost.

How is he supposed to get his memories back through the power of music and friendship?

Still, honing talent takes time, and it’s time he hasn’t invested. He’s nowhere near as good as he used to be.

“You’re getting better.” You intone, staring at the way his fingers fly across the board. (It’s not fair, he’s good at everything he does.)

“You’re faster,” he grumbles. “You have a better ear for how a piece should be played too.”

“Aw, praise from the half-deaf prodigy. I’m honoured.”

He flips you off, but it’s worth it when he hears you cover your mouth and giggle like a maniac.

“Wait till I surpass you,” He mumbles, hiding his face.

His neck is burning, and he wonders why.

—

The month of May comes and goes, but you seem happier than you’ve ever been. It makes Katsuki puff up with pride, because, the grin you have on your face and the beautiful music you make is all because of him.

—

30 June

“Look, you may be damn close to being a ghost, but it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t eat.”

You sigh, rolling your eyes.

This again.

Katsuki’s been on your case about skipping meals, but he doesn’t understand the sheer difficulty of eating meals. Meals require interactions, require you to go up to a counter and order, and if there is any possible way to reduce the constant reminder of being overlooked as possible, you’d take it.

“I’m eating.” You protest. “You don’t have to see it to know.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes, obviously disagreeing, but he doesn’t go on about it.

The next day, as Class 3A passes yours during assembly dismissal, a bento is shoved into your hands, wrapped meticulously which contains the warm plastic container it’s in. You take a sneak peek in it and find egg rolls stacked neatly against carefully cooked chicken and fluffy white rice.

You look up and glance around, before finding Katsuki’s frame as he talks to Eijiro with hands shoved into his pockets.

On it, is a Post-it written with surprisingly neat handwriting.

Eat it, dork. I made it myself.

He’s making it too difficult to sweep your feelings under the carpet.

—

The last time Katsuki made you a meal was 3 years ago.

He did it for a month or so before Reset occurred, and that month was the same month you fell for him.

Wishful thinking tells you that Katsuki was falling in love with you too.

Some people fall head over heels. You got shoved into a hole and never made it out.

But now, it means something else entirely. Getting food was one of the biggest challenges since you get ignored so much. And now that it was getting worse, it was flat-out impossible to reach Katsuki’s standard of three meals a day unless you were to become a criminal.

To get the attention of someone and retain it long enough to get what you wanted…sometimes, it was better to starve.

The last time someone cooked for you, was your last family dinner 4 years ago.

To receive food cooked just for you makes your cheeks warm in appreciation as you bring it to your chest with a stupid grin on your face.

He made it for me.

You really need to stop doing this to yourself.

—

The bell rings and you’re off like a bullet.

You couldn’t wait to eat, and you could only imagine just how it tasted like.

Mine mine mine, you made it for me, just like old times, thank you, thank you, thank—

You trip over a step, and catch yourself before you fall. Eyes trace your table, and your lips pull into a frown.

It’s not there. You dig in your bag and survey your surroundings—nothing.

This isn’t fair. You see your class monitor standing by the whiteboard, mustering the courage to speak to him because no, you couldn’t lose this. Not when Katsuki made it for you.

“Hey, did you see my bento?”

He ignores you (of course), and it takes another 5 attempts and a yell to get his attention.

“Oh, you mean that plastic container?” He clarifies.

He takes in your vigorous head nodding with a monotone expression.

“I trashed it. It was sitting at the back of the classroom, rotting. No one in the class claimed it.”

I trashed it.

Confusion melts to disbelief as your expression twists to one of horror.

I trashed it. The words echo tauntingly. He says it so casually, too.

No, no, no, it’s not fair, it’s not—

“That was mine!” Your voice sounds as rough as cement, choked up and ruined.

The class monitor’s expression is listless, almost bored. “Oh, is that so?”

Anguished silence fills the room. Unbelievable.

“There was food in there—” You’re getting desperate, because how could you lose something just like that?

“Why would you throw away that? You couldn’t have—you must have noticed—!”

That pause was a fatal step, because you’re about as interesting as a house plant. His eyes are locked on something else, and you watch the familiar confusion settle in his eyes before he glances around and shakes his head.

“No, no, no—come on, listen to me—!” You try to grab his arm as he turns to walk away, but to your utter dismay and complete shock, it passes through his hand as if nothing existed there at all.

In all the three years of Reset, no matter how overlooked, how ignored, how invisible you were, that has never happened to you before.

Your feet feel numb. Your body feels numb.

Even as the lights get switched off, you stand rooted to the spot, as fear swallows you a whole.

All that’s left is the ticking of the clock, making you every bit more aware of how fast the seconds are passing you by.

You don’t have much time left.

You find your bento in a big, black rubbish bin nestled between the toilets and the water cooler. Rice spewed, egg rolls crushed, and chopsticks splintered.

—

The next time Katsuki sees you, you’re staring at your arm like it’s alien to you.

Something isn’t fucking right.

He’d expected a thank you, starry eyes like the way they lit up before when you surveyed the contents of his bento. He didn’t expect you to look just a little more…dead inside.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he demands.

“My bento got trashed.” You reply tonelessly. “And my hand…passed through someone.”

“Excuse you?”

“I’m not fucking joking, Bakugou.” You show him your hand, and curl up a little more. “It’s fine now, I’m fine now.”

“Stop saying that, idiot.”

“But I am!” You shout, voice rising. “And the thing I’m more upset about…is…” You look up at him, eyes burning with regret and sorrow.

“I didn’t get to eat your bento.”

Katsuki’s heart shrivels up inside.

“You worked so hard on it, only for it to get thrown away. I’m sorry.”

He lets out a loud sigh, and sits beside you. “You’re fading away, and you have the nerve to be sorry for a fucking bento?”

“It looked like a tasty bento.”

“It’s dead, and you’re not.” He growls, eyebrows knitting together. “I’ll make you another one, okay? One that’ll blow you out of the park. Then we can meet here and eat it together, so I get to see your face while you consume the best fucking curry in the world. After that, we locate the piano to play our stupid duet on, and save you. Quit sulking.”

Your eyes snap up to him, a glare searing his face. Much better.

“I’m not sulking.”

Katsuki folds his arms, and you avert your eyes.

“Can you make egg rolls too?”

He slumps down beside you, exhaling. Success.

“Yes, I’ll make you your stupid egg rolls, Sunshine.”

139 Days Until Death.

-----

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@genderfluid-anime-goth

[chaifootsteps]

Idk if it’s true or not, but if the rumors of him looking for a pimp is true, I gotta ask how fucking stupid Raph has to be? I mean, having a rape fetish is one thing, it’s fine, it’s whatever. We all have our things, and it’s not always that deep. But I’m assuming in making his fanart for his little rape ship, he has to know SOMETHING about the sex work industry. And he still has the audacity to WANT A PIMP? Fantasy is one thing, but pimps don’t do cnc, they abuse people. So does Raph just know this and doesn’t give a shit about the people legitimately hurt and abused in the industry? Or is he just a fucking idiot literally asking for it. I hate victim blaming, but this is a literal case of asking for it. He wants a pimp so he can be abused like Angel. And he’s not a victim/survivor who’s reacting or coping, we know that. He just… wants this? Does he not know abuse and rape are bad? Is that why he wants it? I just can’t for the life of me understand how this person can legitimately function if that is the case.

Like I know it’s just a rumor. But it tracks with so much of what he does, I feel like inclined to believe it. And my inner psych-in-training brain just can’t grasp the concept. Like I need to dissect his brain to understand how someone could possibly can be so cruel in their lack of basic compassion by ignoring the real life affect pimps have, or stupid in his backwards sense of morality in acting like it’s a good thing and lack of self preservation. It just baffles me. I find it both confusing and weirdly insulting?

I've heard this one floating around, but can't quite bring myself to believe it. Raph seems to have at least one toe still grounded in reality, and even if he didn't, he's got that person who's always cosplaying his Valentino and it's implied they roleplay Angel and Val during sex (Raph talked about cutting his lip sucking one of the claws). He seems pretty content as he is.

[nerdishpursuits]

Who needs enemies with brothers like Andres & Tasio. The very definition of disappointing, incompetent, useless and petty. For once finding myself agreeing with everything Jesús and Damián said. The rest can go immolate. Andres is such a coward he doesn't even have the courage to vote or look his sister in the eye. He also never works but claims he doesn't like the way things are going: ergo, I don't like the new business we're getting that everyone stands to profit from. Don't think I've ever seen a more insipidly moronic male lead. He should know Marta the best. His trust in her should be absolute and irrevocable. She’s always been firm but kind and, most of all, fair. And if she’s in trouble because of Carpena now? It’s Andres’ fault because she tried to protect him. This inept man, much like Tasio, never takes responsibility for his actions and cowers under the guise of neutrality. Looking at his face this episode made me sick, not going to lie. As for Tasio? His is a case of bone-deep idiocy, worthy of study. The way to earn your father's love and family's acceptance is to vote against your sister? I hope he gets the cold-shoulder from now on because he deserves nothing less. Damian's chilling don't call me father in the preview is golden. Eat sh** Tasio. And then some. I just can’t with these two anymore. The brothers who Marta did everything in her power to protect and support are the very ones to betray her when she needs them most. Both Andres and Tasio deserve to cry tears of blood as far as I'm concerned and I hope Marta doesn't give them the time of day. I want them to fucking grovel at her feet.

Not to mention the Merino have the audacity to question Marta's integrity and Andres not only fails to defend her, but tries to gaslight her? And nimwit TOSSio the cherry on top. Toss him away indeed. He reeks of idiocy. Truly, if stupidity hurt? Andres and Tasio would be howling in pain, and the Merino too. The look of surprise, pain and betrayal on Marta's face. Ugh. They don't deserve her, they really don't. Cannot wait to see the Merino brothers fail though. They deserve the chance to prove how truly inept they are. These PEEople don't deserve to profit from the business Marta bent over backwards to create for the company. The bathhouse project is nothing but a drain on their resources and they won't know how to manage it. Looking forward to everything blowing up in their smug, condescending faces. And when I say faces I mean Digna as well. Short of murder she's no better than the very people she condemns. She's the kind of fake-nice that's utterly repugnant. The way she used the information about Marta and Fina when it best suited her purposes? Vile indeed. I hope Fina and Marta learn about this and confront her. She should be held accountable.

However? Now that I’ve gotten the initial ire off of my chest? Long term? I also have to say Marta being deposed via treachery could end up being a good thing for her personal development and character growth. It opens up a lot of doors for her, doors towards new possibilities and opportunities.

Too long has she chafed under the yoke of her family, always trying to prove herself to them, always putting herself last. So long in fact? That taking distance from her family and family business might help her reassess things. It might help Marta clear her mind and, hopefully, start removing the last of her shackles. @midniteowlet and I got rambling after this last episode and we’re finding this new development quite interesting.

1. Marta needs to learn how to be more combative and severing the proverbial umbilical cord might be just what the doctor ordered. Does it sting to be blindsided and betrayed by soggy-brained, mediocre people who claim they’re family? Definitely. Not only does it sting but it fucking hurts. For all her good will and intelligence? Marta needs a more ruthless approach when dealing with this kind of individuals. They dare question her intentions and actions? Slam them with a boatload of undeniable facts and figures, gloves off. They’ll only prove their so-called expertise amounts to nothing. She also needs to stop holding back and simply call it as she sees it. Her brothers and cousins need to be held accountable. ¡A cantarles sus verdades, ale!

2. Through her alliance with Pelayo, Marta might end up carving out the kind of independence she truly needs. Sure, she’d be tied to Pelayo but she also stands to gain power and influence in a way that might benefit her and Fina. One possible scenario could even be the Merino bankrupting the business and Marta injecting capital and owning it herself. There’s many ways for her to reclaim her throne, sometime down the line. If done well? Such a storyline could prove immensely satisfying.

It also stands to reason it would be good for Marta to secure new income because her cousins will run the business into the ground. She’ll need to finance that vacation with Fina somehow. Priorities and all, just saying.

3. Too many people within the business know about Marta and Fina. Which means they need to find a way to be together that’s sustainable, long term. One that doesn’t hinge on the benevolence of person x or y. And who knows? Becoming part of a hotel empire might offer them such a chance.

Is it ideal? No. Sure, they could just run off together. But that would mean the end of Mafin on the show. And I think we all want so much more. So all aboard the Angst-Express.

4. Angst can be very satisfying if well-written. And if Marta and Fina’s journey continues to be treated with the same level of respect and care? (which the screenwriters said it was, especially given how beloved this narrative is) It will be a treat. Their story needs to have ups and downs and twists and turns. But as long as the characters remain true to who they are? Their trials and tribulations will be most rewarding. That deliciously angsty pining, the bittersweet longing, the feverishly wanton desire, the ever-growing need that culminates in passion unleashed. It’ll all be there, for the taking. Just biding its sweet, sweet time. I, for one? I’d love me some delicious, quality Mafin angst. And, by the looks of it, I think that’s exactly what we’re going to get.

We’re going to suffer. But we’re going to love it.

[according2thelore]

No thoughts, just mpreg dean/dean with a baby dealing with soulless sam, who suddenly has stopped caring about their child(when he couldn't shut up about how much he loved the kid before)

hi, ari!!!! my head hit the wall and i passed out. this idea is so FUN!!

my mind went immediately to three places so let's discuss them unendingly starting riiiiiiiiiiiight now!

i. dean is pregnant when sam jumps into the pit, the baby is 6+ months old when soulless!sam comes to get him

it's a miracle lisa even let him through the front door. in an omegaverse world, his mating bond has literally just fucking shattered so he's a wreck in every single sense of the word, and he's pregnant with some other alpha's baby. in a non-a/b/o world, he's literally still pregnant by some other person.

it's only through her intervention that the baby gets born at all, really. she takes him to his appointments (first contact at 28 weeks is pretty unusual, and the nurses all look at each other with raised brows), shoves prenatal vitamins down his throat, and slaps bottles of whiskey out of his hands.

it's only when she grabs him by the shoulders and says, you are going to kill sam's baby, that dean finally locks the fuck in. he insists on going to the ER at every twitch of the baby, at every morning the baby doesn't move for a few hours, every time his back hurts or his stomach cramps. this baby is the last piece of sam he will ever get, so he is not going to lose it because he's too weak to keep it.

the baby is born. when she opens her eyes, they're hazel. dean cries, and cries, and cries. he names her samantha, a tongue-in-cheek nod he hopes sam would approve of. it gives him an excuse to put sam's name in his mouth again. he barely lets baby sammy out of his sight for the first six months.

dean puts the baby down for a nap before he gets knocked out in his garage. soulless!sam forgot dean was even pregnant, so after dean collapses in his arms and kisses him stupid then freaks out and asks where the baby is, sam is like?? baby?? oh shit yeah. you give birth to it? or give it up?

now, before sam jumped into the pit, he'd lay with his head on dean's stomach for hours. dean would wake up more than once in the middle of the night to find sam yapping away to dean's baby bump. his hands would never be far from it, until dean snapped at him that it was still his damn body, hands off. sam was so crestfallen that dean let him have at it again.

sam spent his last night before the cage carving protection sigils into a thin, small metal loop. a bracelet. for when they're old enough, sam said. he loved that bump more than life itself, so when sam is so blasé, dean doesn't know what to do.

he takes sam back to meet his daughter, and sam clearly doesn't want to hold her.

"she looks like me," sam says, like he found an interesting fact in a book, and not holding a squirming infant that's trying to grab at his long hair.

dean's last straw is when sam tells him, "we can't take it with us!" when dean starts packing his and samantha's bags. dean blows up. he's been fighting tooth and nail not to put a bullet in his brain for over a year so she could be born and have a dad for the first few months of her life. "it" is their daughter, sam's daughter, and sam--who's catching onto the fact that he's going to have to pretend to care about this thing to get dean to go with him, immediately sobers.

"i'm sorry. i didn't mean that. i can't--i can't. it's an adjustment. i'm...overwhelmed. but i love you both." and since they don't throw the "L" bomb around a lot, dean immediately shuts up. he probably just overreacted, right? sam didn't mean it like that. sam loves this kid.

but sam never really steps up. he changes diapers and feeds formula and buys diaper cream, but he doesn't talk to the baby. not once. he moves in efficient silence. since he doesn't sleep, dean wakes up and finds sam staring down at her in her pop-up crib like he's trying to solve a calculus problem. eyes narrowed, mouth thin. something's wrong with sam, something major, but dean doesn't know what it is.

ii. ignoring regular physiology, dean finds out he's pregnant after sam jumps into the pit, and is still pregnant when soulless!sam comes to get him.

even though this one is impossible, this one is very fun to me because sam immediately is like "😮 you let someone get you pregnant! wow! whose is it?" like they're old high school friends instead of pretty committed enmeshed weirdos.

and when dean says, "it's yours?? wtf?" sam is visibly disappointed, because he's thinking, well shit now we gotta take the damn thing with us.

for this one, sam just straight up does not care that dean is being safe or healthy. dean is expecting something--sam to insist on dean not lifting heavy shit since he's clearly about to pop, dean to eat his daily dose of nutrients, something--but sam can't be bothered.

he even suggests dean be bait a few times, because no one will suspect a pregnant person. dean is kind of agog, and feels stupid for expecting sam to fuss over and/or pamper him a little bit. dean says he has to piss because the baby is using his bladder like a speed bag, and sam insists dean hold it for a few more miles (fifty more miles, to be exact) because they're almost to their destination.

when dean's water breaks, and he waddles into the motel room from the bathroom, covered in sweat and freaking out, sam only barely looks up from his laptop. "you sure?" he asks. he goes and gets dinner in the middle of the birth, and justifies it to dean when he brings him back a wrapped ham sandwich like, "hey man you looked hungry too."

iii. the baby is born right before sam jumps into the pit, and is an actual walking/toddling one-year-old when soulless!sam comes to get him. or them, in this case.

asm doesn't sleep at all the night before the pit, instead laying on his side and letting the baby wrap his little fist around sam's finger. he watches his little chest rise and fall all night, tears in his eyes that don't fall. he holds little john until the last possible second, until castiel passes him his first gallon jug of demon blood. he kisses his little head, wispy with barely-there brown hair, and gently hands him to bobby like he's the most fragile thing in the entire world.

bobby's the godfather (and gets the middle name, robert), and castiel is the godmother. when dean gave him the title with a snort, castiel didn't get why it was funny. is it because i have a penis? he asked. i am the closest thing to a godmother that exists in this state. the next angel is three states over.

sam tells dean before he starts drinking that his first word better be 'daddy,' or he'll haunt his ass. dean doesn't even crack a smile, and says "yeah," unblinking.

sam jumps, and dean doesn't know it, but one of the things he sees before he does is dean passed out on a motel bed, baby john sleeping on his chest, both of them dappled in light from the slatted windows.

dean goes to lisa, hollow-eyed and empty, a baby in his arms, who cries and cries and cries and cries and cries, because the one person that can calm him down in the middle of the night is being ripped apart for eternity at this exact moment.

ben adores the baby. he picks him up and takes to being a big brother like a duck to water. when the baby starts saying "ba," ben insists john's saying his name.

sam comes to get him. he asks if they can leave the baby with lisa. dean thinks he's being protective, but considering dean spent a few months literally sleeping on the floor in front of the baby's crib because he'd panic if he couldn't hear him breathing immediately shuts it down. john was his tie to sanity. not happening.

john, despite only being a month or two old when sam jumped, immediately becomes obsessed with him again. he picks up sam's fingers to chew on them. he won't go to bed until sam talks to him, low and quiet. sam hates it.

sam goes on a solo hunt for a few days and comes back to dean sleeping with john in the impala because they got kicked out of the motel for the noise complaint of baby john crying himself to sleep the entire time sam was gone. i can't be expected to handcuff us together, can i? sam asks, genuinely baffled.

dean feels like he's nineteen again, having to play referee between dad and sam constantly butting heads. except it's sam and his child that wants to be picked up by daddy.

when they drop john off at bobby's for the night, dean can see sam actually exhale in relief as they leave his house in the rearview. it sits in his stomach like rot.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS ASK OH MY GODDDDDDDDD i had SO MUCH FUN THINKING ABOUT IT AHHHH

-lizzy

[bluehairmisfit]

fuck.

[spaciebabie]

at first getting diagnosed with cptsd was like, "yay my trauma has been validated (it always was valid)!" and i really thought that was going to be it, but then i started to do research as i do whenever i realize i have something and learned that!! the way i experience socialization is!! quite horrid actually!!

[didi-on-the-side]

oh NoOoO it's bad today. bad bad.

smack it with a hammer.

🧠🔨

[lovelyrotter]

can we all remember to just say 'oh no thank you, i dont like that kind of food' but apply that logic and rules to shipping and letting other people ship again

[ganondoodle]

seriously though ... how on earth do i get my motivation/focus back???????

its been so long that i have been struggeling with art and i just .... i want to stop wasting time, day after day i just sit around and mindlessly play stardew valley (wasted 800 hours into the darn game, its a good game but thats way too many hours!!!)

i was listening to the arcane songs bc some of the new ones were rly good but now after the disappointing finale i cant do that, and neither have the show in the background, the hurt is too fresh and im bitter, i cant find anything to put on for the background noise

i keep thinking about all the things i could achieve if i could just ... if i could just DO it, but no i sit around feeling like im about to cry and nothing seems appealing/fun, its not quite that strong depression ... but it feels alot like it, time moves so fast and years go by and i get nothing done

i dont know what to do .. or what to try anymore, im so tired of everything and just want to be able to do something

[angelnumber27]

It’s so embarrassing and heartbreaking being in so much pain over losing someone while knowing they don’t give a fuck if you live or die. Your favorite person becoming a stranger is a special kind of hell.

[blamemma]

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