#like exhausted and like someone has used me as a punching bag

[madegeeky]

Apparently my brain has just decided it's done with everything and has decided it's time for a stay-at-home vacation. Like, it's there but it's not answering any work calls. And I think it's smoking pot but, like, without me which is a weird sensation.

Anyway, what all this means is after 7 days of shit sleep I appear to have gone past exhausted into something that, I imagine, is similar to the way one feels when high. I'm also feeling my personal brand of manic: bad typing (y'all, this post took me so much longer than it should have) and talking too fast, too loud, too much. And I keep feeling I'm opening my eyes too wide but I can't tell of that's actually true or not. And, I don't know of any other way to explain it, but I feel dizzy but without actually being dizzy.

In a weird fucking place today, friends.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Perfect Life || CL16 {2}

Summary: Charles finally gets to see the person his brother was proud to call his best friend, and in doing so realises he has some amendments to make. Warnings: angst, swearing, sarcasm WC: 2.4k

One || Two || Three

It was foolish to think the Leclerc’s would just leave you alone. It wasn’t so much of a surprise that Arthur stopped your door from closing but you did frown when his brother followed him inside your humble abode. 

It was dim inside, with only shafts of starlight coming in from the missing tiles above. You walked blindly through the sparse furniture to the fuse box and pulled the lever down, flooding the room with flickering fluorescent light. “Not quite up to your standard?” you challenged Charles with a daring arch of your brow. 

Arthur detoured to the small alcove that was once the factory staff room kitchen and grabbed two beers from the fridge that whined loudly to maintain its temperature. You immediately pressed your bottle to your cheek and moaned as the cold seeped into the bruised skin. Letting the makeshift ice pack do its job, you dropped onto the couch, avoiding the wayward springs that jutted out and tried to snag your clothes, and watched Charles walk around the cavernous room.

“This place is a dump,” he stated. He inspected the bed that consisted of a mattress thrown over pallets that had been abandoned inside the factory before eying up the punching bag that hung from the open rafters. 

“If you’re only staying to insult me, just go.” The exhaustion in your voice came from deep inside your soul and even Charles paused at the sound. 

You hated how he turned his inspection on to you instead. His eyes followed the length of your legs and you tucked your knees up under the hoodie, but then he finally noticed you had been barefoot the entire night. 

“Pack your shit, let’s go.”

You closed your eyes and tipped your head onto Arthur’s shoulder. “I liked him more when he ignored me.”

“I’m not going to tell you again,” Charles growled as he swiped your beer bottle from your face. 

“Charles, have you ever been beaten unconscious?”

“No.”

“Unless you want to find out how it feels, give me my fucking beer back.” You didn’t even open your eyes to see if the threat was taken seriously but then the cold touch of the bottle in your palm was an answer enough. “Thank you.”

“You can’t stay here,” he said calmly. “Pack your things, or I can buy whatever you need in Monaco.”

“I am not marrying you.” The beer was cheap and left a bitter aftertaste but you used it to smother the hot anger that was quickly starting to bubble in your gut. “Twenty minutes ago you would have let me risk being mugged while I walked home and probably asked for popcorn too while you watched.”

The old recliner you found at a secondhand store squeaked under Charles’ weight as he took a seat and said, “I don’t like popcorn.” You cracked an eye open to see amusement gracing on his face. “I also picked you up, didn’t I?”

“Wow, pick a girl up once and expect her to marry you.” 

Arthur snorted a laugh. “I offered first.”

“Maybe you two can fight it out for my hand.” Sarcasm dripped from your lips as you tipped your head to Charles. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you land on your ass again.”

“It was a cheap shot.”

“Are you gonna let him disrespect you like that?” you asked as you nudged your friend. 

“I’m not hitting him again,” Arthur grumbled. “It really hurt.”

“Oh, so not out of concern for me, thanks little brother.”

“She did warn you to shut up but you had to keep running your mouth.” Arthur looked at his brother’s lip but it wasn’t all that swollen thankfully. “Please don’t tell ma.”

“I can do your makeup,” you offered to Charles with a smirk. “I’m actually pretty good at covering up bruises now.”

Charles' eyes turned down and he shook his head as he felt guilty for how he had treated you over the years. 

“I don’t want your fucking pity,” you snapped. “Stop looking like someone kicked your puppy.”

An awkward silence grew until you growled in the back of your throat and rose from the couch. “Tur, can you lock up when you leave?”

“Where are you going?”

You made your way to the ‘bedroom’ and pulled on a pair of riding leathers, not bothering with the jacket since you were comfortable and warm in the hoodie. “Home. I have to get ready for a charity brunch in Marseille.” 

Charles watched curiously as you unlocked a thick padlock to what he thought was just a storage locker. Those green eyes widened when you swung your leg over the seat of the sleek Honda motorbike and grabbed your helmet that hung on the handlebars. 

“You let her ride that?” 

Arthur shrugged and finished his beer. “One: I’m not her keeper. Two: she has a licence. And three: you’re an idiot if you think anyone has a say in what she does.”

“You’re her friend, you should stop her from getting herself killed.”

“I am right here,” you reminded him. “I love the vote of confidence you have in me, by the way, really endearing.”

Whatever he was about to say was silenced when you clicked the remote for the roller door, kicked the bike stand back and turned the ignition on. The roar of the engine was deafening in the space and you slapped the shade down on your helmet before shooting out of your sanctuary. 

“We have a lot to talk about,” Charles warned his brother. 

Arthur nodded as he got up and dropped his empty bottle into the recycling bin. “Yeah, I figured that. Let me just lock up real quick then we can go.”

Charles watched as Arthur walked around the room like it was a routine chore he was used to doing. He hit the button on the wall to close the roller door before checking the windows were locked. He turned the phone charger off beside her bed and slipped the cash he had in his wallet under her pillow. 

“She won’t accept it otherwise,” he said over her shoulder. “She doesn’t want charity, Cha. Your plan isn’t going to work unless you change your approach.”

“What do you mean?”

“Offering to buy her things. She won’t take it. Everything here was earned the hard way, independently.”

Arthur could see Charles was absorbing the information and already a plan was forming in his mind. 

—

“You look beautiful.”

The stem of the champagne flute in your fingers was nearly snapped when Charles startled you and you turned to find him in a tailored suit, the jacket left unbuttoned. “What are you doing here?”

“There aren’t that many charity events in Marseille today. I thought I would make an appearance, it’s good for the image.”

“What a humble philanthropist you are,” you said with a roll of your eyes while he scanned your face for any sign of the bruising from the night before. “Told you I was good.”

“You could be a professional.” 

A waiter passed by and you swapped your empty flute for a full one while Charles grabbed one of his own. Already you could see the inquisitive looks cast in your direction and knew they would only grow the longer Charles spoke to you. Not wanting to be the focus of the gossip mill you took a step away from him, ready to make your escape.

“I have a proposal.”

“Christ, not this again.” You stepped toe to toe with him so as not to be overheard when you hissed. “I’m not marrying you.”

“Not that kind of proposal,” he chuckled. “Arthur tells me you are quite good at fighting.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, wondering where he was going with it, but nodded confidently. “I am.”

“I have a team of security, but they struggle with the female fans when they get a bit too aggressive.”

“You think having a woman throw them down is more…polite?”

He winced and shook his head but it wasn’t very convincing. “I hope it doesn’t come to that but the guys aren’t very comfortable with the idea.”

“You do realise my father is never going to let me leave Nice to work for you, right? That would not fit the image of his social standing.”

“I know. Now before you shut it down completely, just hear me out.” He paused and you immediately knew you were going to regret even listening to him. “You work for me, secretly, but we tell your father we are engaged.”

“No, no, absolutely not,” you hissed. “Argh, you said this wasn’t a proposal.”

“It’s not, well, it’s a fake one so there’s no suspicion why you are always with me. No one will know you work for me, but I’ll pay you well. You can have new bank accounts in your name that your father can’t access. When you have saved up enough money to live on your own then we can break off the engagement and you will have your freedom.”

“I-”

“Don’t give me an answer now, just think about it, okay?”

You turned on your heel and left the stately rooftop garden. The sun was suddenly too warm and the laughter of conversation seemed to mock you personally as you passed by. It would only be a matter of minutes before your father’s assistant came looking for you but you would take every second of freedom that could. 

You got exactly 97 seconds before the bathroom door swung open and Veronica sighed. “You don’t have a scheduled bathroom break until 11.”

“Too much bubbly,” you lied as you tossed the damp hand towel into the basket. It hadn’t even helped to cool your burning neck so you mentally pulled yourself back together and followed the wretched human back out to the event.

Veronica clasped her personalised diary full of notes behind her back as she nodded her head to a portly man ahead. “Mr Henri Cartier, two sons, wife - Charisse, $3 billion profit.”

You plastered a smile back on your face and approached with all the confidence that your father had trained you to fake. “Mr Cartier, how lovely to see you again. How is Charisse? It is a shame she can’t be here today.”

You zoned out as he started to recall how his wife had flown to London in their Lear as their sons had an important polo match. Cambridge versus Oxford, naturally. It obviously wasn’t important enough since he would rather be shaking hands with this lot instead of watching the game. “…the King himself will be there.”

“Ah, but this is France, we have no King,” you teased. “We take care of our own people. Now, a little birdy told me your business had a remarkable turnover this quarter. I hope to see a reflection of that in your donation.”

The Forbes billionaire laughed haughtily. “Of course, my dear. What else would I do with all the excess?”

You opened your mouth to list off all the other purchases he would rather spend his money on but a slick voice eased into the conversation.

“How many superyachts can one man own?” your father asked. “I’ll tell you, Henri, it’s the same thing I say when my wife makes her famous cannoli - there’s always room for one more.”

The two men laughed way harder than the joke called for, but the real joke was the fact that your mother had never stepped foot in a kitchen. 

“It’s a wonder your charity survives with that advice,” you said as you took a step back and let them pick out the shortcomings of their children, and your entire generation, together. You pretended that you didn’t hear them and let the passive blank face fall into place until a hand took yours and pulled you away.

Veronica’s hand lifted to alert your father to your absence but you took the rescue that Charles offered and trailed behind him, losing sight of the assistant in the crowd.

“Well that was uncomfortable to watch,” he murmured in your ear. It concerned Charles at how quickly you had fallen into the charismatic charade he was accustomed to as he watched. He had hated how comfortable you were at these events, and how you charmed everyone you spoke to. He never realised it was all an act, and that the real person behind the whimsical smile was an intelligent, and abused, woman. “I don’t think I have heard so many variations for the word ‘useless’,” he continued.

Charles was right, your father had used them all in his complaints about you. Henri’s response about his children was equally cold, ‘but at least you only have the one weed in your garden.’

“I’m convinced he reads the thesaurus to find new insults for me.”

“That’s so messed up.” This time he didn’t aim the words at you and you weren’t sure how you felt about that. It was easier to think of him as the asshole you had come to know for the last decade.

“Welcome to my life.”

Charles slowed his pace for you down the stairs but you were used to moving deftly in high heels and raced ahead, tugging his hand to hurry up. A smile grew on his face until you reached the last step that exited the venue and breathed in the salty breeze blowing in from the sea across the street.

“My offer still stands,” he said as the valet quickly brought his car around and he took a step off the curb. “You’re not scared, are you?”

Charles smirked as your eyes narrowed and you took a step closer. “Why are you suddenly so interested in helping me?”

The valet opened the passenger door for you and Charles faced you from over the roof of the black sports car. “Get in and find out.”

Your eyes traced the white and red stripe that ran along the car before looking back at the entrance. The choices weren’t overly appetising but you sighed and ducked down into the low seat, tucking the tail of the gown in before the valet closed the door.

“Don’t make me regret this, Leclerc.”

Part Three.

[andreas-river]

helloo!! i got a request ofc if you don’t mind<33

its reader x 141 + könig where we are complete sweethearts and we never raise our voice, everyone like thinks we are too innocent to even be there with them.

but one time someone completely pisses us off and we are already mad so we just snap and start threatening them and stuff. i would love to see their reactions:))))

if you don’t want to do this feel free to change this or ignore!

take care of yourself!<333

right and before i forget, do you take emoji anons? i kinda wanna be -💎

BYEEEEEE💕💕

141 + König X Reader Who Snaps At Them And How They Would React

Warnings: anger, mention of insult, female period (so fem!reader), light mention of sex.

Disclaimer: nothing at all, but remember: anger is never the best way to solve problems!

A/N: hi anon, sorry it took so long! And sure, you can be -💎, but if you even gonna request NSFW, please don't use the anon button!

════════════════════

 Simon "Ghost" Riley

Ghost has never been the kind of person to be affected by the behavior of others: he can handle his own emotions as well as those of others around him better than anyone else;

At first, he paid no attention when he saw you with the eyes of a hyena, looking at everyone around you with the intention of devouring them; but as soon as he heard you raise your voice to him, he froze in place;

He knew that he was not the cause of your anger, that you were having one of your worst days - someone had even insulted you and he had refrained from dealing with it personally - but now the situation was as if it had gotten out of hand;

He had never seen you in such a state: your hands clenched in an iron grip, a pen between your fingers even showing a crack in the material, your face completely red, your lower lip trembling slightly, and your eyes filled with tears: you were not the kind of person to get angry, and that emotion was not good for you at all;

And so, without saying anything, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards him, letting you take your anger out on him: he didn't care if you punched him in the chest or if your tears soaked his shirt.

He knew what that feeling was, and it's not easy to let it out without hurting objects or people: so he kept his arms around you as you let it out, creating a space for you that felt good as you released your anger.

¤

John "Soap" MacTavish

Soap always knew a thing or two about anger: he often had moments when he could not hold it in, so he often went to the base gym and took out all his frustration on the punching bag hanging from the ceiling;

But seeing you angry for the first time in his life made him regret all the decisions he had made in the last few days - how did it happen? Why were you so angry? You've never been angry since he first saw you;

Even when he made all his attempts to help you look futile, he decides to take a completely different approach: he moves your attention to him, tells you how to get it all out safely without consequences for you, and both end up in the gym while he shows you how to punch the bag, the same one he has been punching almost every day;

He's not bothered by your attitude, and he's going to help you through it.

¤

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

"Oh Lord help me," will be his first thought when he sees you pacing around the room, fists clenched at your side, not paying much attention to your surroundings; he already knew about your terrible day, your terrible training, and even your period;

But no, he wasn't ready for you snapping at him, your finger pointing at his chest while he thought your eyes were capable of piercing his body. He immediately understood your anger and why you snapped at him like a rubber band, so fast he didn't even notice;

He took your hands and led you to the couch, encouraging you to talk and release the anger with him, even if it was difficult to explain what was going on inside your head; he listened to all your words, and even if at some point you were exhausted from all the rage boiling inside you, he continued to hold you, even if you fell asleep right in his arms, humming softly a melody for you.

¤

John Price

Being surrounded by angry people made him stressed beyond his own limits, but he learned to deal with it in any way he could;

The first solution was the cigar, the smoke always had a calming effect on his body, helping him to relax when he needed to;

You were so calm, so gentle, even your mere presence was something he craved in his own moments, but when he saw you throwing a punch at your desk, he jumped out of his skin at your flared nostrils, your white knuckles at the side of your head, and your body stiff as a violin string;

He walks behind you and puts his hands on your shoulders, but you shrug him off harshly, not even realizing how he's reacting;

He never, never expected you to snap at him, you've always been a sweetheart to him, and in that moment it looked like he flipped a coin and could only see one side;

He sees how your anger fills your movements, pacing back and forth without even looking at him, trying to pull you out of the feeling you were experiencing: it was obvious that you were "new" at this, plus it was a reason why you never got angry even in the worst situation;

He took control of the situation by putting you on his shoulders like a sack of potatoes, making you even more annoyed with his actions: but he continued, locking the door of his own office and putting you down on his chair;

Both out of breath, he just looks at you, his hand running down your body, watching you and how you try to wriggle away, but he just rests his hand on your tight, whatching you with a playful smile and eyes filled with a different light.

In the end, he knows how to make you forget even the reasons for your anger.

¤

König

He never coped well with his own anger, which led him to run away when someone was angry at him: probably a trauma response, or his anxiety kicking in. The only healthy way for him to deal with it was sparring;

And he freezes in place when you unintentionally snap at him, not even thinking about how he would react; he just stands there, listening to your unconnected words, witnessing your anger for the first time.

He doesn't speak or move, he doesn't even dare to react physically: he just watches you carefully, noting every movement, how you speak, how you try to hold something in your hands but almost break it;

That's when he realizes how to take the anger out of you: his sudden change of behavior makes you fall silent while he invites you to follow him. When he takes you to the mat for sparring, he gets into position and waits for you, and it doesn't take long for you to step in front of him;

Even if he doesn't put all his power into the fight, he notices that his plan is going right: he makes you let off steam by giving all your attention to him, to the fight, and to his movement;

Even if you don't get angry anymore, sparring has quickly become the best activity for both of you.

[donniesgirlie]

I’ve reacntly just read your “kisses and kips” and I freaking loved it! But I was wondering what if reader reacted differently after the line “Y/n, I'm perfectly capable of determining what I do or don't need. Just go to bed, I'll be there soon.”

As someone who doesn’t really handle “getting in the way” of someone else’s business very well, is terrified if they are bothering someone, specially a special someone (like an s/o) I’d froze up after that line, even if his tone isn’t directly at reader per say, I know I’d probably closed off to the point of leaving and sleeping back to my place out of fear I’ve made Donnie upset and getting in his way. Do you mind making a scenario out off this reaction? If not, you can ignore this request

Thank you!

First request, LET'S GOOOO!!

Me too - I hate the thought of even potentially being a bother😭

Hope you enjoy!

Original

Kisses and Kips - Alternate Version: Donatello x F! Reader

.

"Donnieeeeee~" You pull at the side of the doorframe, swinging yourself in and out of the lab as you draw out his name.

He had told you he'd join you in bed an hour ago under the guise of "5 more minutes." You get why he is working so hard; you do. With the recent uptick of Foot Clan activity, he needed to get the truck up and running again as soon as possible, but goddamn it- you just want to cuddle your boyfriend. You don't think it's too big of an ask, especially considering he's been working on that damn gadget for days now with little to no breaks.

With a sigh and light shake of his head, Donnie sets down his soldering iron. "Yes, love?"

You can hear the edge to his voice, strained from disuse and tilted with frustration. He slips his glasses off to pinch between his eyes, exhaustion clear on his face.

"Come to bed?"

He slips his glasses back on and swivels back to his work. "I can't. I need to finish this."

You let go of the frame and walk over to him. "You've been up over 48 hours, you're clearly exhausted, and you need rest - even if just for a little bit."

"Y/n, I'm perfectly capable of determining what I do or don't need. Just go to bed, I'll be there soon." You know he's not upset with you, but his sharp tone makes your heart drop; you can feel your stomach turning sour and your mouth going dry.

"Oh." You swallow, feeling your eyes start to prick with the threat of tears. Your voice comes out in a whisper as you turn to leave the lab, "okay..."

You know it's stupid, that he's been frustrated with the truck, and you shouldn't take it personally, but logic doesn't quell the small voice in the back of your mind whispering that he's upset with you and that you're smothering him. You calmly walk back to his room, ready to hide your tears in your pillow.

-

It's hours later when Donatello decides to come to bed. The first rays of sun are surely starting to peak over New York's surface, but all he can think about is you.

He knows he was harsh; he knows that you didn't deserve the cutting tone when you were simply expressing your concern for his well-being. He has just been so frustrated with the truck - the nunchucks are sticking and he can't figure out why despite taking them apart three times now, and the grill won't properly shut after shooting manhole covers. Not to mention the various other upgrades that he's itching to start but can't until the main problems are fixed.

He refuses to use that as an excuse, though. You're not his verbal punching bag that he can toss attitude at whenever he's inconvenienced.

So, as much as he hates to wake you, he refuses to go to bed without apologizing.

His heart breaks when his sits on the edge of the bed and looks at your sleeping face. Dried tear tracks streak your face as you grip his pillow.

Reaching a hand out, Donnie gently shakes your shoulder. "Y/n... Honey, please wake up?"

After a few coaxes and prods, you finally stir - slightly curling into yourself before stretching back out. "Dee?" You mutter, eyes slowly blinking open. "What time is it?"

"It's still early," he replies easily, moving his hand to lightly trace his thumb along your cheekbone. "I just didn't want to sleep without telling you that I'm sorry. I was upset because one of the circuit boards was giving me trouble, but I shouldn't have snapped at you; I'm sorry, love..."

"It's okay," you say, scooting closer to drape your arm over his lap, lightly nuzzling your face into his side.

"It's not," Donatello pulls from your hold just long enough to properly lay next to you before pulling you back against his plastron. "You didn't deserve to be yelled at just because I was annoyed."

His hand splays out on your back, rubbing up and down it as he buries his face in your hair.

He feels the soft press of your lips to his collar before your muffled voice mumbles, "Well, I forgive you," against his skin.

[lunajay33]

Destiny Pt.6🐺 (Bonus)

Summary: Paul has just shifted to his new life as a wolf and feels empty without his imprint hoping he finds her soon, y/n just moved to forks to live with her dad and sister Bella and decides to go to the bone fire to make new friends

Part.5

•Masterlist•

It’s been a week since I moved in with Billy and Jake, and I’ve noticed I’ve gotten a bit better, I didn’t have to walk on eggshells and watch everything I do, plus Paul was able to come over all the time, I really loved Billy for allowing me to stay

Paul was laying in my bed as I was decorating the little room with the things I’ve brought over from my old room

I turned around and he was spread out just looking at me

“What?” I smiled as I jumped ontop of him

“You’re just beautiful” he laughed as he held my hips against his lap

“Stop that you know I don’t like all that attention” I said hiding my face in him chest

“Oh yes you do, I see the way you smile and blush after I say something like, how beautiful your eyes are, or the way you scream when you laugh, I know you love it when *I* compliment you” he poked as he rolled me over on the bed

“I suppose you may be right”

“See that’s my girl”

Those words went right to my heart, I can’t believe he’s all mine

“I love you Paul” I said softly as I placed my arms around his shoulders

He was quiet for a while but I could hear a growl or maybe some kind of purrr from his chest

“I’m sorry it’s too early I shouldn’t have…”

“No, I love you too, you’re my everything, my life” he took my hands and placed them against his chest

“You feel that?” The thrumming and warmth enveloping my hands

I nodded excitedly

“That’s my love for you, the love that will never die”

“Oh Paul how did I get so lucky” I said about to cry

For the rest of the evening we were wrapped around each other talking, sleeping, making out until Jake came barging in saying they had to go and patrol

“COME ON PAUL” Jake yelled from the front door

“You can come back here after patrol tonight that’s if you want!!” I smiled

“I’ll definitely see you tonight baby but don’t wait up for me, but I gotta go, love ya” he said running out with the boys all waiting there for him

“LOVE YOU”

~~~~~~~~~~

I stayed up as long as I could before I had to go to sleep exhausted, I pulled on my matching pajama shirt and shorts and tucked myself in

Hours later I heard the front door creaking open and a bunch of rustling around, too tired to get up I just waited till I felt Paul lift the blankets and pull me against his chest

Feeling his worth lul me to sleep

“Night baby” he whispered as I fully feel into the best sleep of my life

~~~~~

The next morning I woke up to the sun shinning in my face, I groaned roling over to be facing Paul

The sun was highlighting all his stunning features, his brown hair, his tan skin

I ran my fingers through his hair as he started to wake up

“Morning my love” I smiled

“How was your sleep with your personal heater?” He laughed

“Good except for the part where someone snores loudly in my ear”

“Hey I was exhausted from patrol give me a break”

“Okay fine just this time” then the phone rang

I ran to the phone wanting to let Jake and Billy rest longer

“Hello Black residence”

“Y/n is that you?”

“Bella? Why are you calling” I said nervous as I felt Paul come behind me and wrap his arms around my waist

“Look im sorry for what i said, we want you back”

“Bella you can’t keep using me as your punching bag when you have problems, I deserve to be happy too, and I’m happy here” I said leaning in closer to Paul

“But Charlie talks about you all the time, you could atleast visit him” she said getting angry

“Well I can call him myself and work it out, I gotta go now” I said hanging up

“You okay?”

“Ya I just can’t get a break with her”

“How about I take you to the woods for the day and show you a good time” he smirked

“I’d love that”

~~~~~~~~

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Part two thoughts on an ani x bpd reader? Like, when things get that bad, does either of them wake the fuck up and realize things need to change? Remorse or guilt? The reader leaving? Ani leaving or falling into a self loathing hole, doing bad stuff again and again whether to himself or reader) and not taking care of himself?

It’s interesting to read some of your takes on BPD relationships, because I obviously have no idea what that’s like, but you do. You can make it seem very addicting, but also very terrifying and unhealthy, depending on which way the pendulum swings (I hope you take that as a compliment. Tone is hard through text. Lol. 😅).

I personally do not believe abuse is justified in any situation, whether you have a disorder or not. There’s lots of ways to deal with feelings without taking it out on someone else. On the other hand, I know some BPD’s have described feeling horrified with themselves after an episode like that, and so I’ve never really known just how much ‘control’ someone has in that moment. Either way, I still believe it’s the person’s responsibility to find a way to deal with it. Nobody deserves to be miserable around them just because they can’t handle something.

Anyway, I kind of went off on a rant. Apologies. Lol. My main request was for a part two of Ani x BPD reader! ❤️🫶✨

Not offended at all bby.

I think after I’m done with stalker!ani I’ll write a fic on this. Just cause so many people have asked about it.

100% BPD X BPD would be a terrible pairing. Coming from me as a bpd gal.

Now, personally, I’ve never physically abused anyone during an episode. But I HAVE done lots of property damage and I also broke my hand when I used a concrete wall as a punching bag. I split a wooden bat at the tip from whacking a fence once.

When it gets that bad, I don’t really remember what I said or did. I just feel really jittery, almost like an extreme caffeine high you know? (Imagine old cartoon character drinking coffee and their whole body vibrates, eyeballs and all)

But if it doesn’t get to that point, which it rarely does now that I’m medicated correctly and have a good support system, I IMMEDIATELY feel regret. Like horrible sorrow. Bpd means big feelings and when I feel regret, which isn’t often, it feels like I’m grieving a death that I’m to blame for.

For the smaller, more snappy or short outbursts:

My mouth works faster than the logical part of my brain that tells me not to say something mean.

Sometimes I catch myself in the middle of saying something awful and then I just have to finish it because the damage is done and I may as well spit it out. Then I’ll lock myself in the bathroom for an hour until I’ve hyped myself up enough to apologize, then I’ll go back to the bathroom until the big feelings from my apology die down. I’ll be quiet, basically selectively mute for the rest of the day and be super irritable.

It’s exhausting. But it’s even more exhausting to have to continually remind myself not to spew the first thing that pops into my head or not to chuck the bag of shredded cheese at the wall because I can’t get the ziploc to open.

It’s so stupid that something so small as getting my hairbrush stuck on a knot in my hair could set me off into a teeth gritting, foot stomp and shriek. Like wtf? That’s embarrassing. But it happens before I can even think about what I’m doing.

The best way I can describe it is: I’m a bratty toddler when it comes to emotional regulation.

But you’re so right tho, your illness doesn’t give you an excuse to be an ass. It just proves the person doesn’t want to put in the work to get better if they use it as a justifying reason.

BPD might cause my reactions, but I’m in charge of my actual actions. Sometimes it takes a long time for them to recognize that though. I’m an adult now, I’m medicated, I’ve spent my fair share of days in the loony bin. Looking back at my teenage self? It’s horrific and sad. For me and everyone around me back then.

[jewish-vents]

My right wing family likes to laugh in my face about how the left hates us. We live in a state where Neo Nazis have a compound in the woods where they shot and killed multiple Native American women and at least one black man. The right is not on our side. The left is not on our side. But all my family cares about is telling me how they were correct and I was wrong. I don't know if they think "I'm on the right!" will save them. I have no evidence to suggest that yelling that would save their lives. To a Nazi you're still Jewish and to a Hamasnik you just gave them a second reason to kill you.

I wish I had a mom who asked me if I was okay. I wish I had a dad who gave me advice. I wish my brother would stop texting me news stories of the latest celebrity that came out as anti-Jewish. I wish my sister would stop relentlessly bringing up how every musician behind every song I listen to hates me (she's a DJ, she has a lot of music knowledge). I wish I had someone to spend Shabbat with.

After having had anxiety attacks for four months of Shabbats straight, ten times so badly that I threw up, four times so badly I dissociated and don't recall 5+ hours of the evening clearly, I've stopped talking to them other than to copy and paste "I don't want to talk to you." I woke up Friday morning with physical pain in my chest. I was terrified of having to spend time with them. And then it hit me: I didn't have to, this time. I didn't have to be insulted and made fun of and have the entire dinner table laughing at me, to my face, even when I hyperventilated or cried or stopped interacting with the world and just sat there staring at nothing.

My mother texted me today telling me that not coming over had "hurt" her. I replied, "I don't want to talk to you. I want to talk to the person who raised me who actually cared how I was doing. You messed me up so badly that I'm considering going no contact entirely."

She asked me if I really wanted to be completely alone.

I said yes so quickly I didn't even have time to blink before I sent the text. I would rather have absolutely no one than my "family". The biggest obstacle in my continued efforts not to relapse into alcoholism and self-harm is them. The world's antisemitism was not unexpected. Them kicking me while I'm down again and again and again was beyond my capacity to imagine and I just can't take it anymore. I have no idea how I've stayed sober. It is a miracle that I haven't injured myself. But I can't keep going and continue to put up with this.

This last Shabbat I slept. I was so exhausted I just laid in bed and caught up on my sleep. I work for a suicide hotline, I deal with a lot at work. I don't sleep well. For the past four months, I wasn't sleeping well Thursday nights/Friday mornings, especially.

Even if the world somehow went back to normal, this last year has completely broken any bonds there were between me and my family. And even if everything somehow resolved itself, I wouldn't want them back. I don't want to be around people who used me as a punching bag during their times of stress.

I wish I had a family. I don't wish it badly enough to interact with the one I used to have.

.

[mayabooowrites]

Witness||J.P

James comes home to find a letter from his Ex

Based on this song:

I entered my apartment after a long day at work. I sighed as the place had felt empty since she had moved out, but I didn't want her to know that.

Walking into my living room, I felt exhausted after a long day at work. I set my work bag on the coffee table, where an unopened letter caught my eye. I picked it up, confused to see that it was from Y/n, my ex-girlfriend. My heart dropped as I wondered what could be inside the letter. The envelope felt heavy in my hand, and I hesitated to open it, unsure what emotions it might bring up.

Dear James,

I am writing to let you know my thoughts before leaving the country, as I may not return. I want to start fresh and leave everything behind.

While cleaning my room yesterday, I stumbled upon the 23rd birthday card you gave me, now stained with coffee. It made me smile as I reminisced about that night, but I know it's a memory of the past that I'll always cherish.

I was told that you kissed someone to get it out of your system. It's great to see you becoming more open and finding happiness again, but I would rather not be a part of it. Every time you're around me, you say another shot at me, and it's holding me back from moving forward.

Please feel free to do what you need to get over me. But I won't be your witness.

It deeply hurts me to see you constantly hurting me and taking cheap shots at me whenever I'm around. The pain you inflict on my heart is unbearable, and I would never treat you the way you treat me.

I know you like to feel seen, but I can't give you what you need. Our relationship has ended, and for us to move forward, I need to establish some space between us. I mean, I'll be relocating to France. I don't know how much distance I can put between us once I'm gone.

Feel free to go ahead and kiss my friends; go ahead and kiss Lily again because I understand that it's just another attempt to provoke me. But honestly, I genuinely want you to do whatever it takes to move on from me. Your happiness doesn't cause me any pain; it brings me joy. Even if I know you only kissed her to spite me, it's alright.

But please don't write back, I don't want to know how you been, I'll find it out from them.

I get it; you're looking for a reaction. You want me to feel jealous, but James, it's not good for us to play that game. Trying to make each other jealous is just not healthy.

I'll be long gone by the time you finish reading this. Since our breakup, you've acted like a total jerk, so I got a job in France. I will start in 3 days. Sirius and Lily helped me pack up everything, and while writing this, I just finished; after I drop this letter to you, I'm off to France, sipping wine while looking at the Eifel Tower in my new apartment by now.

As I won't be your witness James. I wish I had more to say but I don't

Goodbye

Y/n

Her words packed a punch, replaying my actions and her disappointed expression. She's absolutely right. I treated her terribly, and now I can't even say sorry.

She's gone probably forever. And I can't even tell her I'm sorry.

All I felt was regret. Tears stream down my face as I think of Y/n in France falling in love with someone a thousand times better than me.

And in that moment, I wanted to be her witness.

[barbex]

Happy Friday! Prompting: "laying awake at night, wishing your lover was next to you" for whoever you feel like writing ✨

Thank you for this prompt for @dadrunkwriting. It didn't quite work out but someone lies awake and they could become lovers, right? Fenris x Anders, of course.

---

Fenris can't sleep. It's ridiculous, he is exhausted, he should be dead asleep after that three day trip at the Wounded Coast. Three days in blistering heat, sharing the tent with the mage. Three nights of laying next to him on thin mats, naked, because it was just too hot to cover themselves. Three nights he slept, instantly. And now, in his home, he can't sleep. 

He turns from one side to the next, kicking the blanket off, only to draw it back up. Nearly dislocating his jaw from yawning, he presses his face into the pillow and squeezes his eyes shut, but sleep just doesn't want to come. He punches the mattress, glaring at the thin streak of light from the window the never bothered him before. 

But then he hears another noise, his front door creaking as it opens. He is on his feet immediately, grabs his sword and storms out, only to stop at the top of the stairs. Down in the hall, determinately stomping towards the stairs with a bag and a blanket over his arm, is Anders. He lost his hairband, his hair sticking out in all directions, a threadbare shirt barely covering his upper body. When he is halfway up the stairs, Fenris realizes that he still holds his sword and lowers it.

"What are you doing here, mage?"

"Can't sleep," Anders grumbles, walking past Fenris into his bedroom. His bag falls to the floor and the bed creaks when he lies down on it, on his stomach, with his face pressed into the spare pillow. 

"Why are you here?" Fenris leans his sword against the wall and stares at the half naked mage in his bed. 

Anders looks at him from under his arm. His hair shines like silver in the moonlight.  "Can't sleep."

"Why does that fact put you into my bed?"

"I slept well next to you."

"But that is —"

"Oh, get off it. Don't tell me you slept. Get in the bed, maybe we can both finally sleep then." Anders pulls his blanket up to his back.

Fenris stares for a few moments longer, and then shrugs and climbs into his bed. Next to him, Anders sighs and soon, his breath evens out. Fenris wants to turn to him and look at his face, but his eyes feel too heavy. It's soothing, to listen to Anders breathing.

Sunlight lights up the room when he wakes. He slept through the night, a rare treat. Next to a mage. Fenris looks at the shock of blond hair on the pillow next to him. This mage.

As if he feels Fenris watching him, Anders blinks, his eyes still hazy from sleep. He looks at Fenris with a dumb smile. "Morning, beautiful," he says and curls back into the pillow.

"What did you say?"

Anders lifts his head, blinking until his eyes are clear as he looks at Fenris. "Good morning."

"No, what did you call me?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Sitting up, Ander wipes his hair back and looks around. "It worked, didn't it? We could both sleep." 

Fenris turns on his back to stare at the patchy ceiling. "I certainly did not ask for this."

"Relax, I'm sure we'll get used to sleeping alone again soon." Anders disappears in the adjacent bathroom and when he comes back out, he still only wears his thin shirt, but his hair is drawn back into a tail and he looks fresh and awake. 

Anders is going to leave, and he knows, with startling clarity, that he doesn't want him to go. "Maybe I do not want that."

"What?"

"Sleeping alone."

With a confused frown, Anders steps closer. "Well you could ask Isabela, or Hawke... I mean, I'm probably not who you had in mind..."

Before Anders can slip away, Fenris grabs his hand and pulls him back. "That's where you are wrong." 

"But... you want me to stay?" The way Anders stares at him in total disbelief, stings.

"Why is that so unbelievable?" His hand hovers near Anders' face, he doesn't know how it got there but he has to brush over the stubble on his cheek and feel how different his hair feels.

"Because... you barely tolerate me on a good day." Anders holds himself very still.

Fenris drops his hand. "I apologize."

"You don't have to apologize," Anders says. "Just... I could do with a little more explanation."

Whatever Fenris feels, he does not have the words to describe it. "It feels... it feels right to have you here."

Anders watches him for a long time. Then he leans forward, brushing through Fenris' hair. "Does this feel right?"

A shudder runs through him. It has been so long that anybody touched him like this. "Yes."

Leaning closer, Anders slides his arms around Fenris' shoulders, pulling him closer. "And this?"

A gasp escapes him. It's too much and not enough at the same time. "Yes."

"Lie down?" 

Fenris lies back down, and Anders lies down next to him, behind his back. He slips one arm under Fenris' neck, and wraps the other around his waist, holding him. "Maybe we could sleep some more."

"Yes, maybe." Fenris leans against Anders, soaking in the touch, the closeness, the safety, until he cannot take it anymore. With a moan, he turns in Anders' arms and kisses him. 

Anders kisses him back, carefully. "Fenris," he whispers against his lips. "Are you sure this feels right?"

"Yes, I am sure." Nothing else has ever felt so right.

"Good." Anders kisses along Fenris' jaw. "Because it feels right for me too." 

[rottingdotcom]

i hope you learn to do kinder things with your time. i'm not sure where you got off thinking that you were doing good by attempting to socially punish someone for their mental illness. it was never any of your obligations to help cheavy at any point, and its baffling that you expected sympathy and pity because you regretted financially assisting him when he was in need. It was especially nasty when you tried to imply the 2000$ he gets in govt assistance is proof he is undeserving of that help. And I know you claim that deep down you "want the best", but if that were really true, you would have handled the situation like a rational adult and solved it person to person or blocked and moved on. the fact you went and deleted that post just goes to show you know all this was wrong to do in the first place. that being said the damage is still done and you've clearly only made his mental health worse and deleting the post will not change that. Human tar pit.

I have had Cheavy blocked for five months on all platforms. I have not unblocked him since the day he used five different platforms in an attempt to contact me after I blocked him on each one. If you had read the full statement, you would see that this was a result of months of this constant cycle of abuse.

I had resolved it on my end for a while until one of his victims came to me for help, and I realized that he had only gotten worse with his abusive behavior. That he had hurt more people and caused more harm to so many more people. That he had been lying about me for months and convincing people, such as you, that I was a one-dimensional villain.

I'm not a good person. I'm really not. I'm a tired, exhausted individual with loads of my own trauma and mental health problems to deal with, who wants nothing more than to see this individual finally stop continuing this cycle.

Cheavy is a repeat abuser. This is his behavior model. This is part of his long lasting, ever repeating cycle. The "psychotic episode" is one component of the "Begging for Forgiveness" stage of his cycle of abuse. As someone who was his punching bag for six months, and is now currently his scapegoat, I have learned to recognize the signs and the signals of when he is lying or being truthful.

Cheavy is not actually trying to kill himself. It's a final plea for sympathy and forgiveness. When he knows he isn't going to win with any of his other manipulative tactics, he resorts to threatening to commit suicide to force his victims into forgiving him and providing him with sympathy. I've called the local non-emergency line and spoken to their community response team (the mental health emergency team) multiple times. Every time we think he's attempted suicide, it turns out he hadn't even left his bed. It's almost always a false alarm.

I hope that Cheavy will one day accept their help and seek out more serious therapy to get out of this constant cycle. When I say we want him to get help, I really mean it. We want him to leave the Internet, get help from his local resources, succeed in college and graduate, maybe even make some friends in real life. We want him to live a healthy life. That's our goal.

But the first step he has to take is admitting he has a problem, and ending this cycle of behavior online. But until he does that, we want to prevent more victims from falling into his cycle.

[xxlordalexanderxx]

So, I think I want to make it a bit clear that I'm no longer really into fight threads anymore. I never really was but sometimes they just happened due to plot reasons which I had no issues entertaining. I used to love them, but those who've known me from over a decade ago seen and know the shit I went though that made me more cautious and picky with them. A was never afforded respect or communication let alone had my boundaries respected, Alexander was always treated as a punching bag. So I've grown very jaded towards them. I'm just not interested in spontaneous conflict and I've had a couple people within the past two years abuse that and it took me a while to come to terms with the fact that unless you are within my close knit friend group I will not entertain battles or fights of any kind, not even spars. These past two years have been very shitty for me during my time and return to the RPC and I'm getting very selective.

ESPECIALLY after the Fuckening ™ earlier this year. This isn't about anyone following me currently or vice versa but it is 100% about a couple of folks I am no longer on speaking terms with. You can thank them for adding that nail into the coffin. I know I have a character that's very fightable but honestly I don't care. He's mine and mine to do with as I please. And this goes for all and future characters of mine. I'm sorry if that's upsetting or makes no sense but I want to explore other aspects of Alexander that isn't about how many asses he can beat or how many times he can get his ass handed to him. I've had him since 2014 and then some and he's more than a fucking punching bag for someone's hero muse to conquer or otherwise. Anyway, I'm very 'eh' with tumbler as is, the RPC in some way has been extremally exhausting and the only reason I haven't packed my shit and left is because I still want to write, I still got partners and friends here and I refuse to let people run me off. But I'm setting this clear and hard boundary and would like it respected. Thank you. Maybe somewhere down the line I'll loosen this rule up, but I'm still recovering from a abhorrent event on this site and I'm staying just comfortable in my little corner for the time being and minding my business.

[aetherceuse]

So.

It's been a few weeks since I announced taking a step back from Lusamine's blog, and, I think I'm at a point where I can put my struggles into words.

Before I get into my issue, I'm politely asking that this post is read and digested. In the past, whenever I post about something that I am struggling with in terms of roleplay and community interaction, my post has been used as a springboard for the dash to turn into "vent hour." That isn't what I want. I'm genuinely asking for people to read this, to digest it, and respect the fact that I am having a major issue with writing this character, which has been preventing me from actually being active-- and it is rooted in how the muse, and her information, has been treated.

I'm not tagging this as drama, because it is not drama. This isn't pointed at any individuals, because frankly, it's an issue I have had with writing villains my entire life, and it's only been amplified on Lusamine's blog in particular.

For starters: Lusamine is a beloved muse of mine. She is one of my favorites to sit down, dissect, and write about. It's important for people to understand that all of my canon muses are retellings in a way, but with Lusamine, that's ESPECIALLY important to understand. This Lusamine is not canon, she is a retelling, with her own backstory and world-relevant lore that is very important for people to read, grasp, and understand before proceeding forward with interactions.

However, it doesn't seem as though people really-- respect that, or even bother to read the bio and headcanons that I've written on her. I can tell, because a lot of the interactions I get are people reacting to canon events that haven't happened in my retelling. Mother Beast, for example, hasn't happened, and I've stated that multiple times over and over, yet that seems to be falling on deaf ears.

I really need my writing partners to actually read my content, and understand what I'm doing. I don't write headcanon posts and bios just because I wanna take up space on Tumblr dot com. I write them because they're a crucial part of what I'm doing.

And honestly-- that's not even the biggest issue I've had.

It is EXHAUSTING to open my ask box on a daily basis, and deal with asks sent in just calling her: bitch, cunt, 'Lusa-mean', 'Lusa-bitch', whatever. I don't think you guys understand how mentally taxing, and depressing that is for me. I get it. I'm writing the villain. Lusamine hasn't done great things. But I feel as though people are forgetting that there is an actual, human person sitting behind the inbox, who is writing a character that he loves-- and instead of getting thoughtful engagement, it's a barrage of "bitch." I've had to block people for doing this (IF you are reading this post on the dashboard, that means you're not guilty of doing this.).

But, this extends to the dashboard too. I feel as though I cannot write or do anything without someone dash comming or being automatically aggressive the moment Lusamine even so much as opens her mouth.

It's really, really not fun to be minding my business, and receive asks, IM's, or dash comms of this nature-- especially when I'm trying to write a complex character. I pour my heart and soul into what I write. And it's really sad that I have all of this stuff that people could be reading, interacting with, and reacting too-- and instead people just focus on all of the potential trauma that Lusamine could subject them to. It's not fun. At all. It really makes me feel like shit. I don't want to be used as the target of someone's parental trauma. Just because I am writing a villain, does not mean I am consenting to be nothing but an angst punching bag. I want to write stories, not just receive one-liners and zingers and "AH HAH, GOTCHAS!" in my ask box.

Frankly, I do not have nearly this much of a problem on any of my other antagonist blogs. Even though I'm still subject of whump at many times, it's not nearly as bad anywhere else, as it is on Lusamine's blog. It's really discouraging, and it makes me feel like I'm writing something that people don't really have any care or interest for. I get that my writing can be a little strange and off putting. I know that I dig into uncomfortable topics. It's not for everybody, but, I've never been the type of person to try and appeal to the greater audience. I'm very niche.

We talk about communication in this community a lot. We talk about wanting to interact. We talk about feeling as though engagement is down. And while I sit here and write this, I'm reflecting on that ongoing issue. I really feel as though we can improve the health of peoples' experience in this RPC if we-- y'know-- actually sat down, read what our partners are writing-- and ask questions/engage with it.

I don't know when I'll return to Lusamine's blog. I'm not deleting it obviously, I've put a lot of hard work into her character. But, until I feel as though there's a genuine interest in reading what I have going on, and engaging with it fairly, I'm going to keep my focus on Proton-- because, honestly, I feel really insecure on this account. At least over on Proton, it seems as though people are reading my glitch lore, respecting my muse/worldbuilding, and interacting with it. And it means the world to me. I hope to have that here one day too.

[howlingday]

If you're feeling up for it I Have a Suggestion for the Tragic Backstory™ Au:

Jaune, Exhausted with all the antics of people trying to marry him, or disrupting his families lives, even Nora with her dumb Betting Pool, makes an announcement, finally using the Rumors to his advantage in a way that definitely won't backfire:

His Queen has been fortold; She is one Who's Bones are as tough as steel, Lightning Coursing through her veins as blood, Hair as full and Bright as a Harvest moon, and ... uh ... She Flies like a Comet. A green Comet. Yeah. Nobody like that on Remmnant!

Huh? Penny's Coming to Visit?

I Am Coming Ready!

Jaune: (Takes a deep breath) Okay. Let's do this.

Pyrrha: You're not hyperventilating this time. All those breathing exercises are finally kicking in, huh?

Jaune: I guess. Thanks again for teaching me some tricks to deal with this public speech stuff.

Pyrrha: Of course, Jaune. But, are you sure about this? I mean, you're going to be addressing a lot of people today?

Jaune: I know, but... I have to. This lie has going on for far too long, and I have to tell people the truth.

Ren: She's right, though. At least three of the five Kingdoms will be watching you with keen interest.

Jaune: Three?

Ren: (Nods) Vale, Atlas, and Mistral. There will be hundreds, perhaps even thousands watching your every move, studying, plotting against you to strike at your moment of weakness.

Jaune: ...Did someone bring a brown paper bag?

Nora: I did! (Holds up bag) It's got brownies in it~!

Jaune: ...Can I have one?

Nora: Mmmmmmmmm, no.

Jaune: Can I at least have the bag?

Nora: Mmmmmmmmm-

Ren: It's time, Jaune.

Jaune: But-! But-! My bag!

Nora: Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm-

---------------------------------------------------

Winter: Here's your report on the repairs, General, sir.

Ironwood: Thank you, Schnee. Leave it on my desk.

Winter: How's the press conference?

Ironwood: It's starting. Look at him, stepping out with such stiff motions. Are we certain he has no bionics?

Winter: There's nothing in Atlas records that confirms this, sir. It could be he's just nervous.

Ironwood: This man took on Adam Taurus, a ruthless leader of an international terrorist cell, and killed a Grimm Dragon that's sliced up one of our battleships. There's no way this man is scared of all five Kingdoms watching him.

Winter: ...Wyvern, sir.

Ironwood: Huh?

Winter: The official reports are calling a "Wyvern," sir.

Ironwood: It's a giant scaly monster with wings and probably breathes fire.

Winter: Still called a "Wyvern," sir.

Ironwood: ...It seems we are at an impasse. Perhaps we should call Penny?

Winter: Unfortunately, sir, Penny isn't here.

Ironwood: Ah, that's right. She took leave. Where did she go?

Winter: She left this morning from the bullhead station, sir.

Ironwood: What bullhead did she leave on?

Winter: She didn't, sir.

---------------------------------------------------

Theodore: BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! That was a good one!

Xanthe: Headmaster, please, I'm begging you. Students are staring. I'm pretty sure he can hear you in Vale.

Theodore: It's funny, though, Rumpole! This kid comes outta nowhere, gets called a king, kills a dragon with a horse and spear, and now he's saying he's not a king to all these people!

Xanthe: It's not that funny.

Theodore: It's hilarious! Oh, I wanna fight him real bad! I've never punched a king before!

Xanthe: Sir, that'll cause an international incident.

Theodore: ...

Xanthe: You'll go to jail.

Theodore: ...

Xanthe: You won't be allowed to fight anymore.

Theodore: ...What about dueling? Would dueling be out of the question?

Xanthe: (Sighs)

---------------------------------------------------

Jaune: No. No. That's not- Look, whatever beef Adam Taurus and I had was over that night we fought, okay?

Reporter: Beef! Ha! That's going in the paper!

Jaune: No! No! It's not like that!

---------------------------------------------------

Lil Miss: (Via scroll) You havin' fun out there, girls?.

Melanie: Yes, Mom.

Lil Miss: Good. I'd hate to pay Roman another visit because he still can't take care of you.

Miltia: He's nothing, Mom.

Lil Miss: Nothin but trouble, you mean.

Roman: (Sighs)

Lil Miss: By the way, girls, just makin sure, but you know about that king nonsense goin on, right?.

Melanie: Yes, Mom.

Lil Miss: You girls stay away from all of that business, you hear me?.

Miltia: Aw, but he's so cute!

Lil Miss: And almost half your age, but that's not the point. The point is that boy king is nothin but trouble. Somethin bad is gonna happen to him, I just know it.

Roman: Yeah? And what do you know?

Lil Miss: Oh, you should know that by now, Roman. I know what I know, and I don't give hand-outs.

---------------------------------------------------

Sienna: More tea?

Kali: No, thank you. (Sips tea) He's doing well, isn't he?

Ghira: They're eating him alive out there.

Sienna: Not even you were this bad in your first public speech, Ghira.

Kali: Really? What was he like?

Sienna: An absolute mess. I actually threw a tomato at him, and he started sniveling!

Ghira: I knew that was you in the crowd!

Sienna: He was going on about "managing our resources" and "not letting what we've gained go to waste"! I felt the mood called for ironic comedy.

Kali: Hahaha! That's so cute!

Ghira: You're both the worst. (Sniffs, Inhales) Promised myself I wouldn't cry.

---------------------------------------------------

Jaune: No! No! I am not "seducing" anyone for a "progeny"! What the hell are you-?!

Jaune: Okay, you wanna know who I'm dating right now, since you're all so into these fairy tales?! Well, if it'll get you people to leave me and my family alone, then I'll tell you!

Jaune: My "queen" is a woman with bones as hard as iron- No, as steel! With a heart that pumps lightning through her veins! And her hair is a red and foreboding as a Blood Moon! And she has eyes that shine with a light that gleams and glimmers with lover's light! Oh, but here's the kicker! She flies! Yeah, that's right, she soars through the air, faster than any comet or shooting star in the sky! In a ball of green fi-

SHOOOOOOO-BOOM!

Jaune: (Coughs, Waves hand) What the...?

Lisa: Get a camera on him!

Cyril: Yes, ma'am!

Jaune: Wait... PENNY?!

Penny: (Blows dust away, Strikes a pose, Smiling, Pink eyes) I am here for my beloved!

Jaune: Ah... Crap-baskets...

[azuramarigold]

Wishes to Tell

Originally posted on my ko-fi - a short story blab.

FANDOM: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Nobara Kugisaki x Toge Inumaki

SFW. Mild violence. Mild cussing/cursing.

Cursed Energy gif by: https://ko-fi.com/setermd/shop

Dividers by: https://www.tumblr.com/saradika-graphics?source=share

SUMMARY: Nobara Kugisaki happens to be stubborn about a few things, but there is one person at Jujutsu High School that pays attention and makes sure she gets the care she needs, even though she doesn't realize it herself. It's the little things that shows that someone does care, even if they don't speak a lot.

Toge Inumaki for the most part hates in Clan Curse Technique of "Curse Speech". He had to develop his own set of safe words to use in order not to hurt people on accident. The one person he really wants to speak with and spend time with has a difficult time understanding his safe words, but that doesn't mean he still doesn't do things to show that he still cares.

It was another day of training at Tokyo Jujutsu High School, the sun blaring down something extra fierce.

            Nobara was starting to really regret not buying a thinner track suit for training, or just wearing shorts and a tank top. She was sweating like crazy, the small hairs from her bangs sticking to her forehead like concrete. Her orange eyes were half lidded as she huffed and puffed, clearly exhausted from the heat.

            “Nobara, you alright?” Maki’s voice asked worriedly. “Don’t pass out on me now.”

            “Pass out?” Nobara scoffed with a smirk. “As if! I still have plenty of fuel left!”

            Of course, this was a lie. She was completely exhausted. Her eyes were fluttering. She was hot.

            “Tuna Tuna,” Inumaki’s voice then said, him pressing a cold bottle of water to her.

            “Huh…?” Nobara murmured. “Oh, I’m good, Inumaki-Senpai, I have my water by my bag.”

            Inumaki’s violet eyes narrowed in concern. “Mustard Leaf,” he then said, thrusting the water to her. He had his own bottle of water in his hands and gestured between his and the one he forced on her. With a small hand motion, he mimicked opening the bottle and pointed at hers.

            “I’m not thirsty,” she argued stubbornly.

            Inumaki pinched the corners of his eyes and sighed, “Fish Flakes…”

            Nobara finally rolled her eyes. “Fine, Inumaki-Senpai, if I drink the water will you stop being weirder than usual?” she nearly snapped.

            “Salmon.”

            “Ugh…” Nobara then opened her water and took a sip. Then she realized just how thirsty she was and downed the whole bottle in one swig. “Oh… wow. I guess I was thirsty.”

            “Salmon,” Inumaki nodded happily. He then gave a small wave and walked away.

            Maki gave a frown. “HEY! YOU DIDN’T GIVE ME A WATER!” she screamed at him.

            “BONITO FLAKES!” Inumaki shouted in terror as Maki made a tear at him.

            Nobara tilted her head to the side, confused. Why wouldn’t he bring water for Maki as well…? She decided not to overthink it.

🌹🌹🌹

“Ah, shit… I tore my skirt again...!”

            Nobara, Itadori, and Fushiguro just got back from a basic First Year mission. It was an easy Curse to deal with. Fushiguro went at it with his shikigami as usual and Itadori went in with his punches. Nobara, being more of a distance fighter, stayed further back, pounding her nails imbued with her Cursed Energy and doing her Straw Doll technique to deal damage when needed.

            Occasionally, though, a Curse gets up on her physically. She Is not as physically strong as Itadori or Fushiguro, or nearly as fast as the former, so her ranged attacks become harder to use. Nobara would try her best to slam a nail into the enemy head on, but sometimes it just wasn’t enough.

            Luckily, all she got this time was a torn skirt. Itadori managed to punch the Curse away from her with one Divergent Fist while Fushiguro’s Divine Dog: Totality finished it off swiftly. It was missions like these that made Nobara realize that she needed better combat skills.

            Nobara sat in the courtyard of the school in casual clothing, a nice pleated purple and white checkered skirt, white penny loafers with white tights, and a light purple blouse, as she tried to repair her school uniform. 

            “Now I wish I paid more attention to my grandma when she was trying to teach me to sew…” the teen grumbled. “OW!” she shouted, once again stabbing herself with the needle.

            “Kelp,” Inumaki greeted with a held-up hand. He was also wearing casual clothing; a short-sleeved white jacket with its high collar to cover his mouth, the bottom of his black t-shirt poking out from the jacket, and he was wearing white shorts.

            “Hi, Inumaki-Senpai,” Nobara greeted back glumly.

            The second year raised a brow as he saw what she was working on. “Mustard Leaf…?” he asked.

            From what Nobara gathered, “Mustard Leaf” seemed to be a phrase he used when he was concerned over something.

            “It’s nothing, I just tore my skirt while on a mission,” she assured him with a small smile.

            Inumaki cleared his throat. He then gestured to the skirt and the small sewing kit next to her. When she looked at him confusedly, he began making a basic sewing motion and pointed at himself.

            “You… know how to sew?” she clarified.

            “Salmon!” he agreed. Even with the jacket covering his mouth, his eyes told it all: he was smiling.

            “I can use the help…” she admitted. “I don’t know how really…”

            Inumaki sat next to her and gingerly took the needle and thread from her grasp. “Salmon Roe…” he almost chided. He then showed her how to properly thread the needle and showed her how the one single piece of thread she had tied to the needle was now almost doubled and tied off at the end, the needle moving freely. “Tuna Tuna…!” He showed her the needle and thread.

            “Oh… that’s how you thread it…” she said sheepishly.

            A nod. Inumaki then turned the skirt inside out and found where the tear was. He attentively began to sew the tear together, closing it effortlessly. Once done, he inverted it back and held it toward Nobara.

            “Wow…! I don’t even see it!” she smiled happily. “Thank you, Inumaki-Senpai!”

            “Salmon, Salmon,” the young man affirmed. 

            “Hey, since we’re already in casual clothes, wanna go grab something to eat in town…?” Nobara offered with a smile.

            A blush flushed up Inumaki’s cheeks. “Sa… Salmon…” he then said.

            “I’m guessing that’s a yes!” Nobara then stated. She stood up quickly and threw her skirt into her side pack before grabbing Inumaki’s hand. “Let’s go…! I know a cute little café that has that best drinks and cakes!”

            “Tuna Mayo…?”

            “Um… if you don’t like cakes… they have dessert onigiri…?” she then offered.

            A genuine laugh escaped Inumaki. “Salmon Roe… Salmon Roe…” It was almost as if he couldn’t believe she said that. 

🌹🌹🌹

A month later, Nobara was pouting on the stairs inside the school, her head balanced on her hand as it was on her knee.

            “Mustard Leaf…?” Inumaki then asked.

            He has some uncanny timing coming to me when I have an issue.

            “Oh, hey, Inumaki-Senpai,” Nobara greeted with a subtle wave.

            Inumaki narrowed his eyes in concern, something Nobara came to notice as his way of saying “What’s wrong?”

            “Oh, I was in town today,” she began with a heavy sigh. “I won’t sugarcoat it, I saw a cute guy and tried to flirt with him… he told me that he rather date a man than a brute looking girl like me. Like, who says that!?” Her voice had wavered at the end, her lips quivering. She didn’t realize it affected her that much.

            “Assholes do,” Inumaki said abruptly.

            It came as such a surprise to them both that they just stared at each other in shock. As they stared at each other, a blush went across both of their faces.

            “I think… that’s the first time I’ve heard you speak that wasn’t your technique or rice ball ingredients,” Nobara teased with a smirk.

            “Salmon…” Inumaki then agreed, back to his safe words.

            “It was… nice,” she then admitted. “It would be nice if you talked a bit more outside your rice ball ingredients.”

            “Can’t,” was the singular word he said as he shook his head.

            “Are you worried people will get hurt?” Nobara asked curiously.

            “People have,” he affirmed. “And… I don’t… want my friends…” He then paused as he didn’t want to say something to cause the Curse Speech to activate.

            Nobara then nodded. “Okay, I get it… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed it,” she apologized sincerely. “You’re just being considerate… unlike that asshole in town today… could’ve just said he wasn’t interested or something…” She then gave him a small huff, although not truly directed at him, as she got up and gave him a small wave. “See ya around, Inumaki-Senpai.”

            Inumaki returned the wave, feeling a sense of guilt in his chest. He wished he could speak to her properly. There were many things that he wished he could say to her.

            Like how her eyes sparkled when she found something she enjoyed, whether it was a new piece of clothing she bought, or she was enjoying a new flavor of bubble tea she discovered at a hole-in-the wall shop. Or how even though she thought of herself as weak, she was very strong, never backing down from a fight no matter the odds; it took every fiber of his being not to find a way to get a description of the guy that called Nobara a “brute” so he could really show off how dangerous his Cursed Speech was.

            Inumaki just had to show how he cared subtly, like just being there to listen, or giving her water when he noticed she was dehydrated. When they were at the dessert shop a month prior, he sat contently, listening to Nobara ramble about the mission she was on, or how she couldn’t wait to get her compensation from said mission so she could get a new dress for the upcoming autumn season.

🌹🌹🌹

He doesn’t go into town often on his own unless it’s for a mission, but he did this time as he knew Nobara was going into town alone.

            Toge wasn’t a fan of her going by herself as he knew she had a knack for getting herself into trouble. If she was with Itadori or Fushiguro, that was a different story, at least those two could cause Curses or other potential threats to back off. But here Nobara was, dawdling around with her bag twirling around her, a perfect target for anyone to try and snatch.

            It wasn’t that she didn’t know how to take care of herself in a fight, Toge knew that. Nobara always had her hammer and nails on hand, and even without her traditional Straw Doll, she knew how to craft one how of various materials within a pinch. The girl could throw a punch, if necessary, as well – Itadori could attest to that.

            So, Toge followed from a distance, staying in the crowd, grunting apologies if he bumped into someone.

            When Nobara stopped in front of a window looking at a new dress collection for the season, a young man scoffed at her that was walking by.

            “Oi, I didn’t know brutes like you knew how to shop for dresses!” the young man sneered.

            Nobara immediately snapped into attention and gave the man a glare. “Hey, what do you want?” she boredly asked. “You already said what you wanted to say a couple of weeks ago, so leave me alone.”

            The guy laughed to another friend that was next to him, “This is that chick that tried to flirt with me before,” he explained, not bothering to hide laughter. “Told ya she was practically a gorilla!”

            Nobara narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms, her black ballet flats tapping on the concrete. “Well, this gorilla is gonna kick your ass in a minute if you don’t leave me the hell alone,” she threatened.

            “Hey, just trying to have a good time,” he chided lightly. “I bet even brute girls like you wanna have a good time, right?”

            “Excuse me?” Nobara hissed in offense. “Are you trying to imply something here?” She began to reach for her side and out came her hammer.

            The young man howled in laughter, “Oh, wow! What are you gonna do? Build me house like its that stupid battle royale game?” He then grabbed her arm that held her hammer, her wincing in pain with a yelp.

            Toge had enough from listening from a distance once he saw the grab, especially after what the guy had insinuated with Nobara. He quickly pushed his way between two people, them grumbling at how rude he was, as he made his way to her.

            “Kelp,” Toge greeted casually to Nobara, a hand raised.

            Nobara whirled her head to him in surprise. “In-Inumaki-Senpai…!?” she gasped. “Wh-What are you doing here…!?”

            All Toge did in response was unzip the collar of his jacket, revealing his “Snake and Fangs” seal on his tongue and cheeks. 

            “The hell…?” the asshole young man grunted. “What kind of freakshow is this?”

            “Go away,” Toge said to the young man’s friend that was just idling. 

            Without a second thought, a blank look overtaken the friend’s face, and he turned to his left and began walking away. The asshole raged, his face turning red.

            “Hey, where do you think you’re going!? GET BACK HERE!” he screamed.

            Toge gave a smirk as he looked at the young man’s left arm, which was still gripping Nobara’s arm. “Let go.” He ordered.

            The young man immediately let go. “HUH!? WHAT THE!?” he shouted.

            “Get twisted.”

            The arm twisted counterclockwise with a snap, the bones piercing through the skin and blood splattered out.

            “AUUUGHHHH! WHAT THE FU-!”

            “Tuna Mayo!” Toge then quickly said to Nobara as he grabbed her hand and sprinted away from the scene, dragging her along as he screeched in surprise.

            Toge dragged her a few blocks before they stopped, catching their breath. “Caviar…” he gasped for breath.

            “Inumaki-Senpai, I could’ve handled it…” Nobara then huffed, trying to catch her breath.

            “I… know…” Toge replied. “I didn’t like… that he grabbed you…”

            Nobara’s face flushed. “Huh…? Were you… watching me…?” she asked him shyly.

            “Salmon…”

            Nobara looked stunned for a moment, then she started laughing. “At least you don’t think I’m a brute, right?” she asked him.

            “Never,” Toge told her with a smile. “Bonito Flakes to the max.” 

            Another laugh escapes her. “Well… thank you,” she thanked him. “I mean that, Inumaki-Senpai. And not just for today… but for all the little things you’ve been doing for me too…”

            As Toge never zipped back up his jacket to cover his mouth, his mouth opened and closed as he didn’t know how to process his words. What safe words to use? Can he use real words? His cheeks flushed a deep pink.

            “You can try saying ‘You’re Welcome’,” Nobara teased with a grin.

            “Um… You’re welcome…” Toge finally said.

            “There! Not so hard, is it?” she playfully said to him. Without even thinking, she pecked a kiss on his cheek and stretched. “Now I need some bubble tea from that nonsense from that dickhead… Wanna get some bubble tea…?”

            Toge’s brain was fried from just the peck on the cheek. 

            “Earth to Toge,” Nobara snapped her fingers in front of his face, him just barely registering that she used his first name. “Bubble tea?”

            “Yes!” he then practically shouted.

            A teasing smirk played on her lips. “Look at you, not using ‘Salmon’ to agree,” she told him.

            “Look at you, knowing what ‘Salmon’ meant,” he countered with his own cheeky smirk. His eyes widened at the realization that he just casually talked without safe words. Nothing happened – no one was cursed. She wasn’t cursed.

            Nobara held out her hand and Toge placed his hand in hers. “Come on, Tuna Boy, bubble tea isn’t gonna buy itself.”

            “I’m buying…?”

            “You’re buying…” Nobara tried to emphasize her words forcibly.

            Toge laughed, “Salmon Roe… You’re Cursed Speech is not very good… But I’ll do it.”

            “YAY!”

A/N: Did I make a reference to "Fortnite"? Yes. Yes I did. Did I play the game? I did - for a week until Epic Games pissed me off so bad. Wouldn't connect my Ps5 account to my actual Epic Games account - which cost me progress and roughly $50 of vBucks that I used to buy skins that I could no longer get. Epic Games tried to gaslight me saying it was a "misunderstanding" on my end on the instructions they gave me in an email, but I literally highlighted their stuff and sent it back because they legit pulled a "Trust me bro" move on me. So, yeah, that's why I don't play the game anymore or I would totally have the JJK skins by now.

[whump-lover-and-reader]

Leverage: Con Artists (레버리지: 사기조작단) Whump List

Synopsis: Meet Lee Tae Joon, a former insurance claims investigator turned scam strategist. Backed by a group of former criminals, they aim to bring to justice fellow thieves, grifters and con-men world-wide, who, otherwise, would not get their due, through the usual legal channels. Those who hide illegal activity behind their reputations and think they are above the law, soon become the target of mastermind Lee Tae Joon and his unusual team of talented experts.

Genre: Cop/Crime, Action, Mystery, Comedy

Whumpees: Lee Tae Joon played by Lee Dong Gun, Roy Ryu played by Kim Kwon, and Jung Eui Sung played by Yeo Hoe Hyun

Note: Joint effort once again: up to 3rd episode the list was done by the awesome @love-me-a-lotta-whump, the rest is by me. Enjoy!

!!Spoilers Below!!

Lee Tae Joon

Ep. 01: panicked, hit by a car (minimal consequences) ::: in an explosion, ears ringing, wincing

Ep. 02: arrested, exhausted, concern for him ::: punched twice (comical) ::: found out his son died, grieving, fell to his knees, crying, arrested, fighting, manhandled

Ep. 03: grieving, arrested ::: in prison, feeling unwell, groaning, concern for him, brought to the infirmary::: someone tries to stab him, grabs the shiv, bloody hand ::: grieving, crying ::: drinking too much, passed out ::: manhandled, saved

Ep. 04-05: none

Ep. 06: at gunpoint, pressed to kill

Ep. 07: (cont. from the previous ep.) at gunpoint (turns out the gun wasn't loaded), secretly filmed

Ep. 08-09: none

Ep. 10: feeling betrayed

Ep. 11: someone got killed right in front of him, secretly filmed, stalked

Ep. 12: secretly filmed

Ep. 13: threatened with lives of his friends, protective, angry, handcuffed

Ep. 14: (cont. from the previous ep.) threatened with a bomb, saved

Ep. 15: none

Ep. 16: at gunpoint, their headquarters were broken into, blackmailed

Roy Ryu

Ep. 01-02: none

Ep. 03: fought

Ep. 04: none

Ep. 05: fought (kinda, but really he just messed them up like little kids)

Ep. 06: attacked with a knife, fought, cut on the side, nearly stabbed in the eye, using wall as support, helped to walk, wound treated, slapped on the wound, yelped

Ep. 07: attacked with a knife, fought, cut on the cheek, in chokehold, in hospital, in a wheelchair, bandaged arms and neck, teary-eyed, embarrassed, secretly filmed

Ep. 08-09: none

Ep. 10: fought, nose bleeding

Ep. 11-12: none

Ep. 13: has to fake fight a friend, locked up in a warehouse full of explosives, taken hostage

Ep. 14: saved, fought×3

Ep. 15: fought×2, locked up in a bathroom

Jung Eui Sung

Ep. 16: at gunpoint, their headquarters were broken into, blackmailed

Ep. 01: feeling sick (semi comical)

Ep. 02: kicked in the back (comical)

Ep. 03: hungover ::: pushed up against a wall, saved

Ep. 04-06: none

Ep. 07: scared, teary-eyed, grabbed by the throat, tasered, lost consciousness, scared, secretly filmed, in chokehold(comical), passed out(for like two seconds, comical), uncomfortable touching, anxious he'll get caught, scared, screaming

Ep. 08: (cont. from the previous ep.) scared, screaming, hand pressed over mouth(semi-comical), shoved, fell, clutching his hand

Ep. 09: passed out from sleeping gas in someone's arms(semi-comical?)

Ep. 10-11: none

Ep. 12: grabbed, manhandled, bag over head, kidnapped, concern for him, tied up, threatened with a gun, fell out of his chair, threatened with a gun, forced to help his kidnappers

Ep. 13: (cont. from the previous ep.) forced to sleep while still tied up, crying, manhandled, handcuffed now instead of being tied up, has to fake fight a friend, panicked, in chokehold(semi-comical), locked up in a warehouse full of explosives, taken hostage

Ep. 14: saved

Ep. 15: none

Ep. 16: their headquarters were broken into, blackmailed

[direwombat]

12, 21, 22, 49, and 58 for Syb and Jacob?

and thank you again for indulging me twice ;w; <3 <3 <3 also sorry i got. so tired last night so...trying to finish these up tonight (ask game here)

12. Do they have many heated arguments? How do they smooth things over?

lmaoooo they have more during their early-relationship/still-kinda-enemies phase where they're regularly butting heads. figuratively and literally. and...well...they smooth things over in the way you might expect. the argument gets physical. jacob starts posturing and trying to intimidate her, syb starts throwing punches, someone gets pinned to the wall or the ground and...well...usually it ends in angry sex...or syb storming off pissed as hell.

they do outgrow this and by the time syb is part of the cult, they're mostly in agreement on things. they'll still argue, but they're more level headed about it and will actually use their words to communicate when they disagree. but it takes them a while to get there lmao.

21. Who would get into a fight to defend the other’s honor? Who tends to the other’s wounds?

syb is fully and well aware that jacob has. no honor. for her to defend. she knows that she isn't gonna win that fight lmao. and while jacob knows that syb is fully capable of defending her own honor, he would be the one more likely to do it. and. i mean. the wound tending is mutual. or at least it is to an extent. in the cases where jacob's pride is more injured than he is physically, syb will just laugh and toss him a bag of frozen peas for the actual bruises. but when there are actual injuries involved that really do need proper cleaning and stitches, then she'll patch him up. and he'll just as readily return her the favor. calling each other "fuckin' idiot" the entire time, of course

22. What reminds each of their partner?

these are by no means exhaustive lists but...

things that remind jacob of syb: rabbits, the smell of stale cigarettes, bomber jackets and ripped jeans, the thrill (and satisfaction) of a good, challenging hunt, the sting of getting decked in the face, the sound of someone humming while cooking

things that remind syb of jacob: wolves, only you by the platters, the thrill of being hunted, campfire and gun oil, the feeling of bruises forming in the shape of hand prints, the writings of marcus aurelius

49. Does either of them have a hard time being away from the other?

i mean...yes and no.

there does reach a point where they don't particularly enjoy being away from each other, but they also acknowledge the necessity of it. they were on opposing sides at first. that makes spending time together difficult. and even after syb joins the cult, she has her own duties as the judge that take her away from him. they trust each other's capabilities, and while it's a cold comfort, at least it's there. besides...they talk on the radio a lot when they're separated like that.

but when both of them are forced into different bunkers and neither knows whether the other is alive during the bunker years...well they didn't do too great. the seven years they spent separated was rough on the both of them, and when they're reunited in new dawn, they NEVER let the other leave their sight.

58. Who’s more likely to hold a grudge after an argument?

dsaflkajsdf syb. she tends to stew in her anger. especially when she's convinced she's right. she doesn't let go of things very easily. and lbr even if jacob does hold a grudge, he's also (unrightfully) confident in his abilities to. um. change her mind.