#the worst part is that I feel mean and gross myself now for doing this in the first place.

[bosooka]

no disagreements here, just additions :)

there was a period of time, more 2020-2021, when pro-jedi people were 1) very much outnumbered and 2) hit with gross harassment, suicide bait, bullying etc. that much of the old guard still remembers. i was there as a pro-jedi person and it was honestly really awful. i was told, among other things, that i must not care at all for the crimes the catholic church committed (which, as a sefardic jew, was really appalling)?? about star wars??

this is what really began the era of certain pro-jedi people becoming really mean and hateful, and when i became alienated in the community as someone who...actually follows the teachings of the buddha and tries to not speak or act out of anger lol. i definitely became uncomfortable identifying myself with this group although none of my views on the jedi themselves have or will change, but i also feel sad because i know it's the result of a sort of collective trauma they experienced. even if it was "only" a fer bad apples, the fact that it's functionally impossible to distinguish between a normal person and someone who is going to send you anon hate for 3 days gives you a really nasty hyper-vigilance

(there is a certain knee-jerk attempt to claim that things that happen online aren't "actually" hurtful and don't traumatize, and that is the biggest crock of bullshit i've heard in my life)

i experienced something very similar as a satine fan, during the same time (compounded by being on twitter, which is The Worst Platform Ever), and i have had to train myself out of the subsequent blind rage and anxiety i feel when i see someone being an asshole about her. i am absolutely mortified by the way i've spoken to some people who had no idea why i reacted so intensely to their words, and it was because i became so used to being bullied and clowned on by "satine critical" people that my survival mechanism became "tearing them a new asshole before they have time to react".

in other words, i think a number of pro-jedi fans have developed an unhealthy relationship with fighting on the internet which is not unique to them but is a result of a previous era where harassment and aggression was much more normalized (at risk of invoking The Dark Discourse, i blame the anti-proshipper nonsense for giving cyberbullying new life). all of the new folks coming in are rightfully going "what the fuck? are you okay??" and i hope everyone involved gets therapy.

final note about the "chinese propaganda" angle: as an actual buddhist (jew), the popularity of "jedi critical" takes in SW that are rebuking or degrading buddhist philosophy in SW is the result of the fact that western culture is fundamentally materialist and rewards unhealthy attachment to worldly pleasures and desires as an alternative to the internal self-satisfaction that cannot be bought for all the money in the world.

reducing the chinese government's literal genocide of tibetans to "they hate buddhism" is, once again, a monumental crock of sinophobic horseshit, not least because a third of china still identifies as buddhist and those teachings are all over some of the most popular wuxia/xianxia medias being made in china right now. as if we have to point fingers at the CCP to justify western disdain for any belief system that goes against the grain of the christian-capitalist philosophical hegemony.

that being said, i have literally seen people go, "expecting people to just be okay with the fact that you can't control what happens in your life is an evil soulless teaching that only a disgusting cult would teach!" and their response to people pointing out that "you can't control what happens in your life," is a fundamental buddhist teaching is often either, "well OBVIOUSLY i don't mean it towards the REAL religion that the creator of this franchise is a part of!" or just "you're not even buddhist, what do you care?"

this is not acceptable and it is offensive to buddhists, actually. and, no, the way these teachings are depicted in star wars are not nearly different enough from "real" buddhism (whatever that means) to absolve people who say these things from any sort of responsibility for confronting their internal biases

'jedi bashing is chinese propaganda'

I'm sorry what now -

also, I'm australian :)

and I don't even bash the jedi. I critique them. for their flaws. lovingly. because I yearn for their reform like luke did in the eu, not complete annihilation.

there's a guardians of the whills fanfic set in jeddah and their training system in it is just. chef's kiss I think chirrut and baze could have saved the jedi order singlehandedly

[mysticalskunk]

It has come to my attention that Miranda / Randa / Mia / Lavender is sneaking around to talk about me behind my back to people. I would like to be informed if she tries to talk about me or tries to get any of my partners involved into drama. I have never told anybody about what happened between us but she keeps trying to involve other people into something that was supposed to stay between us. I did not want to address it, but I realized it has become a pattern and then take her word for it without asking my side of the story. She tries block evading and is creepily obsessed with me and views me as competition due to her jealousy and inferiority complex. I still have the screenshots of that.

Having said that, those who know me do know that I usually do not engage in petty call outs posts myself but at this point I have been pushed to my limit. Having said that - this is petty friendship drama and I will go more into it in another google doc I am writing, this one will not be made public. I have no interest to draw this out even further, I just want to move on from her so this will be my only post about her. At this point it's for my own safety.

I did not want to do this but she keeps involving other people and I had enough of explaining myself and that is what the google doc will serve for at this point. I am full aware that this is a hurt on both sides and my own part in this and it’s clear that there is a lack of communication involved but Mia is seeking deliberately out those I interact with to drag them into this and quite frankly I cannot take it anymore.

With this post, do not approach her or me about it and leave her alone and do not go around to bother her in some way. If you think you can play third party and say stuff without even knowing what this is about, stay out of it. This has been going on for at least 2018-2019 and has become nothing but an utter mess and you are only making it worse by trying to help. She is the one who needs to move on and stop being obsessed with me. Do not bother trying to tell me her side, she had her chance and blow it. I do not need to hear any of that from a third party, nor do I want comments on it. You do not know what is actually happening here so even if she tries to drag you into something, keep away from it. I hate that other people get involved into petty stuff like that because of her jealousy and I would have not written that post but at this point I do not feel safe. I just want to move on from this and not have constantly old wounds opened.

Mia is nothing but an extremely passive aggressive person who loves gossiping about other people. She will also share your private information to others. I am not the only one she treats that way - she is like that with a lot of people but I am the only one so far who has caught onto her behavior patterns and since 2018 nothing has changed and she keeps doing the same.

For years, she has talked with someone else I considered a friend behind my back and shared private information about me with each other. Her trying to drag people into drama when someone snapped at her for understandable reasons is nothing new. She has a habit of doing that because she does not want you to interact with people that make her persnally uncomfortable and then goes on to talk about them behind their back. She does not just do that with me, she does it with a lot of people.

Mia has a habit of pushing other peoples buttons, she repeats each pattern. At this point it s not slip ups, you can tell it is deliberate. She knows what she is doing and admits to doing it every time. She can berate you for something all she wants, but when you go “hey x is not okay” she will accuse you of “attacking her” “being lecturing and annoying” “being an angry bristling wolf” “too blunt and too aggressive” “criticizing her a lot” "bringing out her anxiety and trigger her"

She has no problem dropping you if you "call her out" on her behavior. She thinks the internet is her personal playground where she can get away without facing the consequences. She is trying to seek for people who have not caught onto her behavior, she is looking for people who let her get away with as much as she pleases because Mia does not listen to anybody but herself.

Mia will never take accountability for her own actions. She would rather point fingers and blame you or others for it. If she does give some sort of apology or regret, it is fake. This is not about those she hurts, this is for herself. Each “apology” was in connection of “I was worried you are going to cancel culture me” or “I was worried you will make a call out post” . She does not care for others feelings, she is worried about her image.

Again - the internet is her own personal playground and everything needs to be about her. She thinks she simply knows better because of her own experiences and pretends to be better than anyone else. She does not care if you have your own irl issues in going - when you do not respond as fast to her liking she will chase you across your blogs and spams them, switching between asks and dms (despite me repeatingly telling her to stick to dms) and then drop and block you for making her wait "bring out her anxiety by making her wait". She then comes crawling back and whines about it how sorry she is for doing so -she is not, she just wants attention.

She also resents and blames me for "still having the space she lost”. I know how she "lost” it in the first place and all this came from her sticking her nose into something that was not her business (not regarding me but two other people), her own jealousy and other insecurities but rather than owning up to that she would rather point fingers, blame me and call that other person she caused distress an angry bristling wolf. I will go more into it during that doc.

Having said that, here are a few screenshots that says a lot about her personality and what a red flag she actually is.

This was years ago but I never deleted the screenshots of it so I will always remember the person she actually is. It was a terrifying read back then and it is a terrifying read now.

On top of that, she knows bullshit about my life and just bases this on my internet experiences. I suffer majorly from depression, anxiety and other disabilites to a point where I cannot even find work (the fact that she then goes "I am expected to build up and earn money" is disgusting. She is throwing a pity party for herself, acts like I am some kinda rich person who has no problems at all).

Just because I do not dump all my issues onto someone like she loves to do for attention and just because she was considered "a friend" does not mean it gives her access to what is happening in my life - keep in mind, the message also came on what currently was the worst time of my life and I already wanted to lash out but decided she was not worth the effort. I am wasting my life away with depression, I never had "a sense of living life or security".

Keep in mind, that was also when our friendship was already over. I felt nothing but relief when our friendship was over because she was a nightmare to deal with. But she is unable to let go and kept hunting me across my blogs. I eventually was desperate enough to tell her to cut it out because I genuinely could not deal with this right now with everything going on irl but she kept chasing after me "what is 'this' instead of giving me a break.

Having said that - the likes of her are not, and never will be my friend. She never viewed me as a friend, she views me as competition. She makes that clear in that message. And if you ever get a message like that run as far away as you can.

People like that will do anything to try and make you as miserable as them because they are petty like that. If they can’t do better themselves they refuse to do so for everyone else either and want to drag them down just so they can feel better in their pathetic life.

If you read "I wanted to be stronger than you and wanted what you seemed to have I wanted to win" that is a huge red flag. She makes it clear hear that she never saw me as an equal and has an obsessive, one sided competition in going.

Anyway, that is only half of it. I am not really in the mood to go into the rest of that petty high school drama on Tumblr and that is not even the basics of it, nor should it have been anybod's business to begin with.

[gonzo-rella]

Headcanons: Being Wallace Wells' Trans Boyfriend

MASTERLIST | AO3 | KO-FI

EDIT: Although this fic was written with a more binary trans reader in mind, I'm hoping this fic will also be suitable for AFAB nonbinary people who are masc or male adjacent, which is where I might be at. I'm currently working dating hcs for Wallace with a nonbinary reader (which will be suitable for both AFAB and AMAB readers).

Relationship(s): Wallace Wells x transmasc!reader (romantic)

Warnings/info: Trans typical stuff, like dysphoria, transphobia etc. etc., sexual remarks, he/him pronouns for reader, headcanons were written in one sitting, when I was feeling not great. (Let me know if I need to add any)

(A/N: I've been reading a lot of Succession fics over the last few days. Last night I read a Roman Roy fic and for some reason it gave me this overpowering wave of dysphoria that I still have yet to fully recover from. Annoyingly, I have yet to actually watch Succession so this could have been avoided; I just think Kieran Culkin's hot and very gender so I couldn't resist pretending that someone with his face was my boyfriend. Reading about Roman made me think 'oh shit. Maybe I'm a flawed and pathetic little guy on the inside. But I just look like a woman who likes to kiss women and everyone treats me like a girl and uses my girl name and girl pronouns and that feels super gross and makes me want to live in a hole. Now I'm going to feel bad about that for the next few days.' So, yeah, I'm having another transmasc crisis that I'm using fanfiction to get me through. I figured Kieran Culkin started this, so I might as well write something featuring a character of his that I can actually write for. This is a self-indulgent and self-explorative treat for myself, but I hope that transmasc readers can enjoy this, too. If you'd like more Wallace stuff, trans stuff or Wallace AND trans stuff, feel free to send in a request. I really want to provide more fics for transmasc readers because you guys are super underrepresented (and, y'know, Papa Gonzo-rella wants to explore his gender a little more). Also, I swear that I will get around to watching Succession, and I more than likely will end up writing for it when I do.)

Respectfully, Wallace does not give a shit that you’re trans.

Of course, he doesn’t flat-out ignore it, because it’s part of who you are, but it isn’t an obstacle in your relationship by any means, and it doesn’t bother him in the slightest.

If you’re feeling dysphoric and/or otherwise insecure about yourself, he’ll pinch your cheeks and tell you how handsome and sexy you are.

If you’re feeling especially bad, like ‘not getting out of bed and hiding from the world’ bad, he’ll keep you company and say what he can to reassure you.

Being mushy and sincere truly isn’t his thing, so whatever he says will sound either slightly insensitive (but still pretty sensitive as far as Wallace goes), facetious or like he wants you to get over how you’re feeling so he can fuck you.

But, he genuinely doesn’t want you to feel bad and you can tell he cares, because otherwise he wouldn’t be there for you when you're feeling your worst.

Wallace is very affirming, but in his own Wallace way.

He lovingly refers to you as his lameass boyfriend.

If Scott ever compliments you about anything, Wallace will call him gay.

He will shout ‘gay’, like the Senor Chang meme.

"Hey, man, I like your shirt-"

"Ha, Scott's gay!"

"I-I'm not gay! I just like his shirt."

"What's wrong with being gay, Scott?"

"Nothing! There's nothing wrong with being gay!"

"You really need to work on your internalised homophobia, Scott. To think, my gay lover and I share a bed with a bigot."

If you’re doing anything that he knows will make you dysphoric or exacerbate your dysphoria (for example, scrolling through social media and looking at cis dudes that give you gender envy) he’ll shut it down.

Using the aforementioned example, he’ll snatch your phone off you and close the app, saying: “Nope. Make better decisions.”

And, while you’d initially be annoyed at him for grabbing your phone, you will appreciate it in the long run.

If you have testosterone shots but you’re not a fan of doing them yourself, he’ll begrudgingly help you with them.

He will make a very Wallace comment, though

“Stabbing? I didn’t know you were that kinky.”

If anyone’s a dick to you about being trans, Wallace is always ready to go with a snide remark about the other person, because of all the things you could possibly mock his lameass boyfriend for, being trans is at the bottom of that list.

(He should know, as the person who makes fun of you the most.)

Also, he cares about you very, very much and he doesn't want people being transphobic to his boyfriend.

If you’re cool with it, he will make trans jokes, but nothing ‘attack helicopter’ or ‘attack helicopter’ adjacent, because he’s too clever for that and he can come up with better material that isn’t just derivative, transphobic garbage.

If you get your period and it makes you at all dysphoric, be prepared for this exchange:

“Don’t worry. Scott pissed blood last month and cried about it and he’s still a man.”

“Did-did he go to the doctor?”

“I don’t know. He seems fine now, though.”

If you still have boobs and don’t mind them being touched or otherwise acknowledged, he will use them like a pillow.

If you decide to get top surgery, he will make the following request:

“Well, if you’re not using them, can I have them? I need a pillow that Scott won’t steal. And, he wouldn’t steal your tits, because he knows I’d call him gay for it.”

“Why are you like this, Wallace?”

“Selfish.”

Being trans doesn’t make your relationship much different from any of Wallace’s other relationships.

You’re just, for better or worse, another one of Wallace’s boyfriends.

[tubbypeddle]

Hi again!! I loved the matchup thank youu!! Now I'm wondering though if you maybe have any headcanons for what the part 5 characters (Bucci Gang and/or La Squadra 🤭) would be like with an autistic s/o 👀?

Hi again!! and how cutteeeeee <33 I'm autistic myself, so honestly i'm just projecting here how i want them to treat me teehee

(author's notes: credits to gif owners, of course <3

Without further ado, hhehehehe

Bruno Bucciarati

He doesn't always understand why you do the things you do, but he always always makes an effort to be patient.

He'll eat the food you can't, he'll listen to you ramble and ramble and show genuine interest. He's basically the perfect partner.

Sometimes, when he's out running errands and finds something related to what you're hyperfixated on, he'll get it for you if he has the cash.

When he's making food for you, he's careful to make only food that you'll enjoy eating. Many chicken nugget and mac and cheese dinners.

He's a little firmer with you than he is with the rest of the team, when it comes to you getting hurt. It's because he worries more for you than he does about everyone else. Not only are you his partner, but he feels responsible for your safety. If something happens to you, it's because of him.

Leone Abbacchio

Honestly, he might make you feel a bit bad at first, but it's not on purpose. He doesn't know what autism is, or how to handle people who have it.

But he learns to. Because he feels bad when Bucciarati tells him that he made you feel awful.

So he goes out of his way to research how autistic people feel, why they act the way they do.

Because of his (kinda outdated) research, interactions with him might feel so so scripted. He means well, though.

When you're feeling overstimulated and like every little touch could set your bones on fire, he's happy to just sit in silence with you. As a silent reassurance that he's still here for you. Or even if you want space alone, he'll let you know that his door is unlocked for you, if you want to come to him later.

You're his favorite person, he wants you to know that he's here for you.

Giorno Giovanna

He's autistic himself, even if he doesn't know it.

So he understands you a lot better than everyone else will.

He lets you talk whenever he's available for you, and he often makes time for you in his schedule too. He does a great job making you feel special to him.

Often times, the two of you will sit in relative silence, just existing in each other's presence. But sometimes, when he feels especially jittery, the two of you will infodump on each other about your special interests. He just rambles on and on about the Mafia and what he plans to do with it, and then he'll listen to you ramble about whatever it is you're interested in.

He has a bad habit of eating foods that he doesn't like the texture of, leading to him shutting down or feeling gross afterwards. Mostly because in his childhood, it's either he ate what his house had or he starved, autism be fucked.

It's something you slowly nudge him out of, with much stubbornness on his end. Internalized ableism is so fun, huh. /s

Pannacotta Fugo

He definitely already knows he's autistic himself, so he often does things for you that he himself would enjoy happening to him.

He gets you gifts for your special interests, or he'll research your special interest so he can talk about them with you.

He's very anxious all the time, scared he might hurt you or do something to hurt your feelings. You might have to reassure him very often that you're not scared of him.

His favorite thing to do with you is read together. Like a little book club with just the two of you. Or even writing little essays about things you like so you can read his thoughts and analyses on them. Or drawing with you, even if he's really bad at it. Art composition was his worst subject when he was in school, after all.

He didn't have any hyperfixations before he met you. Which was a little boring for him, even if he spent most of his time trying to survive the mafia anyway. But after meeting you, you became his favorite person. And then you become his new hyperfixation, and you're all he can think about ever.

It's very infuriating for him sometimes. (in the good way)

Narancia Ghirga

Another case of "doesn't know he's autistic".

He's the loud kind of autistic. Socially unaware, but emotionally available to everyone. It's no surprise that he feels himself drawn to you.

He'll talk if you don't want to, he'll eat everything you don't want to (even if he doesn't like it). He just really wants you to like him.

He absolutely lets you indoctrinate him into your special interests. He likes whatever you like, and more! He might accidentally talk over you, just because he's so excited to finally have someone to talk about his interests with.

He means well, though.

Absolute cuddler, all the time. So if you're not that big on physical touch, he'll find another way to cuddle you. He'll put a big body pillow between the two of you and hug that instead, just so he can still be next to you and still hold onto something like that.

Never say that Narancia doesn't have his moments.

Guido Mista

He's very open-minded most of the time, so he handles you being autistic very well.

He handles all of you little "quirks", as he calls it, very well, too. His mentality is "if you don't like it, you don't like, and if you like it, great."

So if you don't want to eat something because of texture issues, that's fine, he'll take it. You don't want to hear something because it feels like glass on your skin, he'll turn on something else.

It really is that simple to him.

He just wants for you to be happy, and if anyone gives you trouble for something that you can't help, he'll shoot them. Easy as that.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

i was re-reading hbp for all the hinny moments coz I am an ardent hinny shipper, but also like...ginny was being such a dickhead ? she called her brother 'not so down to earth' and said he only went for fleur to have some 'adventure' ? calling fleur a cow, another name for nose boogers and whatnot, mimicking her, thinking herself superior to hermione coz the latter understand quidditch. yeah ngl she was quite a mess in the sixth book. but i still like her coz of her bravery and resilience. but do you think she was being a pick me or just an angsty teen ?

I really don't think I'm the person to ask because I'm biased. My bias is that I don't like Ginny, never did and I don't like Hinny. Like whatever you like, these are my opinions and how I read their characters.

I don't like her behavior in HBP, but I didn't like her before that or after that.

Like, I think there are some of JKR's own opinions that made it into Ginny and Hermione. Both of them have a bit of pick me not like other girls' behavior. With Hermione constantly putting down Lavender and Parvati for being girly girls. Hermione, too, makes fun of Fleur and dislikes her just as much as Ginny does. She also sends birds to attack Ron after she sees him with Lavender, even though they weren't dating that point. That was so mean and for no fucking reason, Hermione, Ron didn't cheat on you, the relationship is just in your head if you don't tell him anything.

It's part of why I also find Hermione annoying. The difference is that, to me, Hermione has more redeaming qualities than Ginny.

I'm not saying Ginny isn't resilient or brave, but I don't see her as the brightest. Now, contrary to many Ginny haters, I don't mind her temper (I mean I like Harry) I like hot-heads, but the combination of all her traits and how she's written just really puts me off since all she is written to be is Harry's love interest. And I can't like a character like that.

Hermione has other things going for her except being a pick-me girl/Ron's love interest. She's also a know-it-all nerd. She is loyal and clever, and she has a personality that was developed on her own. She is her own person, and even if I'm not the biggest fan of who Hermione is as a person, I think she is written well for her part in the story.

Ginny, on the other hand, gets interested in Quidditch because of Harry. She starts dating guys in her 4th and 5th years in an attempt to make Harry jealous. She implies her entire personality glow-up in book 5 was for Harry's sake. Her entire character revolves around Harry in a way that makes her not feel like a person on her own. Even worse, she isn't written competently as a love interest, which is practically the only thing she is in books 5, 6 and 7.

As she is written, she comes off as obsessed with dating Harry to a degree I personally find gross.

To me, the fact she says she does what she does (dating guys, Quidditch, her entire personality) for the purpose of dating Harry:

“I never really gave up on you,” she [Ginny] said. “Not really. I always hoped. . . . Hermione told me to get on with life, maybe go out with some other people, relax a bit around you, because I never used to be able to talk if you were in the room, remember? And she thought you might take a bit more notice if I was a bit more — myself.”

(HBP, 647)

(Yes, this awful advice came from Hermione, hence why I consider her kind of a pick-me too)

And that she's at her worst when she thinks Harry might find Fluer attractive. Yeah, I think she is most definitely a pick-me girl of one of the worst sorts.

Ginny, in my opinion, is the epitome of: "I'm not like other girls". So much so that she feels the need to never cry or complain around Harry so he wouldn't think she cries a lot like Cho:

He chanced a glance at her. She was not tearful; that was one of the many wonderful things about Ginny, she was rarely weepy. He had sometimes thought that having six brothers must have toughened her up.

(DH, 103)

(It doesn't help that I don't like Hinny because of how Ginny is written and how little regard Harry actually has for her compared to characters even like Luna. I mean, the nicest thing he says about her is that she's brave and not weepy. Ginny and Harry always gave me the impression of Ron and Lavender — lots of making out, no actual substance. In Hinny's case, I got way more of an ick because of the more obsessive undertones and Ginny's whole vibe in the later books)

[octuscle]

hey dude, I’m not a writer, but a bro sent me this request and I think the chronivac team can help him out

I’m a 21 year old gay geek who lives in a very loving but nerdy family. My dad is a geek who has been taking me to gaming conventions since I was little. Me and all my brothers take after him. I love my family, but I’ve always wondered what it would have been like growing up with a jock family. Could I have been the jock I fantasize about being if I had more masculine influences in my life?

March 10th, 2024

I never thought my family would turn into a bunch of fitness fanatics, but here we are. Mom, Dad, even my little brothers, they're all obsessed with this new super athletic lifestyle. Protein shakes, chicken breasts, and hours at the gym have become the norm in our household.

I used to be content with my telescope and chessboard, but now I find myself being dragged to the gym and force-fed protein shakes. It's like my family has become a cult, and I'm the reluctant follower. I'm not sure how I feel about all of this.

March 25th, 2024

I can't believe how quickly things have changed. Just a few weeks ago, I was the nerdy kid who spent his days studying the stars and playing chess. Now, I'm a typical high school jock, hanging out with the popular crowd and making fun of anyone who doesn't fit in.

I've traded my telescope for dumbbells and my chessboard for a football. And the worst part? I'm starting to enjoy it. I feel powerful and invincible, like I can do anything. But I'm also starting to notice a mean streak in myself that I never knew existed.

April 10th, 2024

I've become a bully. I can't believe I'm saying that, but it's true. I'm the one pushing kids into lockers and stealing their lunch money now. And the worst part? I'm not even sorry about it.

I've also developed this gross habit of forcing kids to smell the stench from my sweaty armpit after football practice. It's like I get some sick pleasure out of humiliating others. What has happened to me?

April 30th, 2024

Yo, dude, like, physically, I'm a whole new person now. Went from a scrawny little dude to a 280-pound muscle beast. My clothes are bursting at the seams, and I gotta turn sideways to squeeze through doors. But hey, ain't complaining - diggin' all the stares I'm getting. And guess what? Bagged a wrestling scholarship to a college out in the Midwest. Me, the dude who used to daydream about space and stuff, gonna be slammin' in the ring for a college team. It's bonkers, but man, I'm totally stoked about it.

May 20th, 2024

Yo, OMG, peeps! I am legit ecstatic right now, like I never in a million years thought I'd be uttering those words, but BOOM, it's straight facts, fam! E'en though I've gone through some major transformations, like morphing into this 280-pound jacked AF bodybuilder who lowkey bullies nerds, I am L-I-V-I-N-G my best life and am beyond stoked about it! I've finally discovered where I belong in this crazy world, and that's under them bright lights on the wrestling mat, ready to throw down and slam some bodies, chug some protein shakes, and maybe, just maybe, dial back on the bully vibes a smidge. Here's to the next epic chapter in my saga, AKA living my dream and taking names! #OnTopOfTheWorld #LivingMyTruth #BodySlamsAndBulkingBro

[yanderambling]

Hi! Can I please request an Innocent! Yandere x Knowledgable! Reader????

maybe yandere doesn't know why they feel this way, about YOU of all people. Reader knows exactly what's going on, and only encourages our dear sweet yandere, because they just look so adorable as they hold you so close, begging you to never leave them!!!

(p.s. if you're accepting emoji anons, could I be 👾?)

yes yes YES you get me and i hope i got you here because i LOVE LOVE LOVE this!!!! this kinda got away with me so i may come back to make it more coherent later but i just can't keep it to myself anymore! also p.s. to 👾: i do read your messages and they always bring a smile to my face! you're really so kind, thank you so much for your endless support it means more than you could know!! (also i'm gonna be responding to asks/messages as i get back into the swing of things so nobody think you've been forgotten!) okok i'm done now i hope you enjoy!!<3

concept: Innocent!Yandere(gn) x Enabler!Reader(gn)

words: ~2.1k

CW: 18+, mild NSFW, yandere behavior, manipulation, delusional thinking, scent spit sweat and all that fun gross stuff

Ren is a master of self-control.

They’ve had to become one ever since meeting you, and it has not been an easy undertaking.

Their entire reality was thrown out the window with just your polite greeting smile, their soul left their body when your hand shook theirs; they still swear they could feel your sheer radiance emanating from just your palm.

Something in them changed that day, something beautiful and grotesque and visceral, and it’s only getting worse in the days that follow.

They get frustrated with themself frequently, especially in the beginning. Why can’t they just be normal about you?

Why does your very presence cause their body to get so hot and feverish, their legs losing all strength as their heartbeat roars in their ears until all they can even think of is you you you?

Why does your voice send their stomach flipping and their skin tingling with goosebumps? Why can’t they stop imagining it saying all these different disgusting, perverted things to them?

Why can they never find words when you talk to them, why are they constantly stammering and spluttering their way through conversations as they try not to melt at your fond, just-this-side-of-condescending smile?

Why does every part of you fill their head with incoherent, overwhelmingly lustful thoughts? Why do they want to lick across your stomach, to run their teeth over your arms, to bury their face in your armpit until their lungs and body and mind are full of only you?

Why do they get the urge to pick your chewed gum from the trashcan and suck on it to know what your spit tastes like? Why does it taste so good? Why can’t they stop doing it?

(Why did you suddenly start chewing gum so much more often?)

Every interaction with you is a test of willpower, and the difficulty only rises as the two of you grow closer.

The first time you invited Ren to your house, they could've collapsed right there (they almost did, but you caught their arm with an easy grin that had them hurrying off to the bathroom, clutching the burning spots your fingers had occupied).

Of course, it wasn't the first time they'd been to your place. They'd actually held off a full week before they gave in to the urge to follow you home (you were almost offended it had taken that long).

But it's different being here with your knowledge, and being inside where it smelled like you, where your personality oozed from every decoration and knick-knack that populated the place, where your skin cells and sweat have soaked into the furniture- something about the proximity brings out the worst in them, they can't help but bury their face in your couch cushions every time you leave the room, they hope they're subtle enough while sliding their tongue over the armrests when you look away (they are not).

They aren't proud of the whole ‘breaking-and-entering’ thing, but they have gotten pretty good at it (once you adjusted your security system and locks to account for them, of course. They still don’t know about the hidden cameras around your home that you watch back in the mornings; they look so adorable when they’re sneaking about!).

Not a night has gone by without them watching over your slumber since their first visit. It's just too tempting, the sight of you sleeping so peacefully, spread out and lax with your mouth slightly open, a thin line of drool trailing your lip that they so terribly need to taste- and, besides, it's also for your safety! With how easy it was for them to get in here, who knows what kinds of creeps might try something when you're so vulnerable?

Really, they have to be in here to defend you from potential intruders!

(Ren is the first and only person you’ve ever gotten a security alert for.)

They feel guilty for stealing from you, too; it keeps them up at night, beyond what their souvenirs do, but they just can’t stop. It started small, just old lip balms and drink bottles, nothing you would miss, but these crumbs of your presence mean the world to them, and each one just leaves them wanting more.

So, gradually, against every decent instinct in their body, Ren went for bigger prizes: an old pair of nail clippers, a notebook lying forgotten under your bed that looks like it’s been handled plenty, and, on a particularly bold occasion, they snagged one of your cheapest looking ‘toys’- just to have around! They swear! They don’t sleep with it jammed against their mouth or anything!

(Your toys are locked up now, you don’t have the disposable income to sustain that particular addiction. You’ve taken to buying cheaper underwear too, because you know you won’t be seeing them again once they come off your body. You have half a mind to ask for some higher-quality pieces back, but you don’t want to spoil the fun too soon; you're mostly just grateful they've been sparing with your outerwear, but who knows how long that'll last...)

Originally, they had hoped that satiating their appetite for you at home would make it easier to be near you, but it hasn't (you've made certain of that).

In fact, it's almost like they're getting more sensitive to you the longer they hang around; the littlest things will set them off now.

Just your hand on their shoulder to get their attention has them vibrating out of their skin, just your arm flexing as you open a door has drool pooling in their mouth, and when you lean around them to look at something, just your breath barely grazing their face has them biting back whimpers.

But it’s getting even worse as you two get more comfortable around each other, it’s harder and harder for Ren to remind themself to be normal when you keep letting them further into your life, as if they belong there.

How are they supposed to be normal when you invite them over for dinner? And how are they supposed to stay conscious when they find out you’re cooking it? And how are they supposed to keep their heart from beating out of their chest when they come over to see you puttering about the kitchen like a snapshot from one of their domestic wet dreams? And how are they supposed to stay on their feet, to keep from choking on a litany of moans and whimpers, when you raise your sauce-covered finger to their mouth and say ‘taste’? And how are they supposed to not hyperventilate in your bathroom for a half hour afterward as they desperately relieve themself through their pants?

It's downright unreasonable.

And then there's the cuddling.

Ren knows that friends can cuddle, that there's nothing inherently sexual or romantic about intimate physical contact, but their body does not get the message.

It's the sweetest form of torture they've ever been subjected to.

It was innocent enough at first, you’d wrap an arm around them or lay your head on their shoulder, and that alone would send them catatonic. But when you first laid in their lap, Ren felt each neuron in their brain short-circuit as every nerve-ending in their body was lit ablaze- it took a good while for them to convince themself they weren't dreaming (this quickly became your favorite spot).

Soon, though, Ren would wish they dreaming, if only to save them the humiliation (they wouldn't really, they'd never give up a second of your presence, no matter how excrutiating).

They try to pull back, to be good, but it's so hard.

They can't help the way their body pushes into yours, like some magnetic force causing them to press closer closer closer. They can't stop their arms from wrapping around you, clinging to you so desperately like your the only thing anchoring them to earth, every square inch of their skin in contact with yours tingling and warm and right and they need more. They can't keep from pulling you closer, pressing harder, writhing against you like they're trying to squirm under your skin, their breaths coming heavier and faster as their movements get more frantic and discordant and fevered, their senses and thoughts tortuously and wonderfully overwhelmed with you and you and you.

Then they suddenly go very tense. Then they relax. And you turn up the TV as you settle more comfortably against them. And they try not to let the mess in their pants seep through.

They're doing their best.

By this point, Ren is just endlessly thankful that you haven't noticed their... affliction yet. They often feel guilty about taking advantage of your trust and kindness, but they can’t help feeling lucky too.

For the most part.

Your friends know, Ren is fairly certain, but they can’t just leave you be whenever you spend time with other people, and you don’t seem to mind how standoffish and clingy they are when you’re out together anyway.

(Your friends have raised several concerns, but you just like the feeling of being the center of Ren’s attention no matter who or what is around you, and feeling their hands tighten on your arm whenever a friend gets too close, and watching their breathing quicken as the jealousy steadily overcomes them, and maybe even watching a more touchy acquaintance squirm under Ren’s intense stare until they leave early, and then never questioning why that acquaintance is suddenly nowhere to be seen again. It’s really none of your concern, let alone your friends’.)

Ren tries not to let other people get them too nervous, they just remind themself how easygoing and nonchalant you’ve been since the beginning; if they haven’t scared you off themself yet, your friends probably won’t have much better luck.

You seem to have no qualms with spending every waking hour with them, save for when you lock the bathroom door behind you. You met them with a familiar wave and smile the first time they showed up at your work unannounced, and then the same each time after that. You didn’t even blink when they stuttered their way around a request to share locations, you just shrugged an affirmative and grabbed their phone from their trembling hands.

You’ve never confronted them about the things that go missing after nearly every visit to your home (you know they can’t help themself, and they just look too cute when they’re desperately tucking your toothbrush into their bag like they can’t stop their fingers!), you never give a second glance when you seem to catch them sneaking a photo of you (they’re laughably unsubtle, it’s all you can do to save their pride in the moment each time), you never comment on how feverish and clammy they are whenever you touch them (except to ask if they’re feeling okay and drinking enough water, it’s so fun to watch them melt even further at just your expression of care), and you never even say anything about how often they ���just happen’ to run in to you on the rare occasions they haven’t scheduled themself into your day (it’s always nice to see their watery smile and puppy dog eyes!).

Every time Ren thinks they’ve pushed too far, that they’ve exposed themself for being some kind of perverted stalker, you just give them this easy smile and go right along; they're actually a little concerned about your apparent naivety, they just count themself lucky that they found you before some ill-intentioned creep could.

It’s a tightrope walk the whole way, constantly unsure of what minor misstep will end up revealing the depths of their obsession and doing them in, but Ren can’t keep themself away from you.

One day, they’ll learn to cope, to be normal and palatable and right, and then they can tell you how they feel. Then the two of you can have a proper relationship, like none of this mess ever happened with them. Then they can tell you that they love you without feeling guilt twisting their gut, and then you can say it back without them agonizing over tainting it, and then you two can finally be together, the right way.

And Ren is certain that they'll get there, though it may be hard and grueling and nigh-impossible, it will happen.

Because Ren loves you, horribly and all-consumingly, and they are a master of self-control.

thanks so much for reading! feel free to send a request <3

check my pinned post ~

[bougiebutchbinch]

Im sorry but what about pro-ship? ...You would also cheer people who create it?

And by pro-ship i mean incest, pedophilia, rape, abuse and glorifying all of these things.

I just want to know, no vitriol, no hate.

Okay, so, this is a MASSIVE topic and my thoughts are complex. So, just for the purpose of answering this ask, I'm gonna focus on the biggy here - fictional depictions of pedophilia.

Under a cut because this got long!

I don't wanna read anything that glorifies fictional child sexual abuse in a completely played-straight way. That's a big ol' nope.

But there is a world of difference between depiction and glorification. And I don't think people writing about a horrific situation have to constantly shove it down your throat that Pedophilia Is Bad? This sort of thinking leads to incredibly cringey moralistic fiction that is, frankly, dull.

I love dark fiction! I love gothic novels, and horror, which include rape and incest and abuse and child sexual abuse and all sorts - not all of which is demonised! Some of which is wholeheartedly glorified in order to disgust you!

Some content is meant to disturb you and gross you out and make you look at your own internal 'ick' reactions! Or it's designed to give you the 'fascinated horror' people often get from looking at a car crash with multiple fatalities. That sense of intrigue when faced with taboos is a natural part of the human experience. So long as it is only engaged with in a fictional setting, it's a helluva lot less harmful than rubbernecking out the window of your car at a crash site and causing another accident.

Playing with people's disgust can be very interesting and fun, from a writerly perspective! You can create all sorts of really disturbing horror for the precise purpose of making your audience uncomfortable, and no one is actually being hurt!

Art isn't just about happy emotions, y'know? Lolita isn't pro-child-sexual-abuse despite being written from the perspective of a pedophile, and I'd wager that very, very few people who paid to watch The Human Centipede actually have a scat fetish. They're drawn in by their disgust and revulsion - like many people are to darkfic!

Now, if someone is legitimately creating content that seems to be glorifying fictional child sexual abuse, I won't interact with them for personal trigger reasons. But at the end of the day.... I don't know their story? I don't know why they're doing that.

What I know is: when I went through the worst, most traumatic experiences in my life (which, no, I will not be discussing further x) reading about the same horrible stuff happening to my blorbos legit helped. And not just the stuff where it was depicted realistically, as a horrible traumatic experience, but the stuff where it was 'glorified' too, because it made me feel less alone and awful for having lived in that situation and for having told myself it was normal and healthy.

When you're in a situation like that, sometimes you legitimately cannot tell you are in deep shit. Fics that try to point out that you are in deep shit, invariably feel like they're preaching. A balance of fics that try to point out that, y'know, Abuse And Pedophilia Are Bad - delivered alongside fics that depict that sort of relationshp as ay-okay, actually helped me come to terms with some of the shit in my life. Reading both sorts of fic together, it didn't feel like I was being constantly told I was a Victim.

I think, at the end of the day, fiction affects reality. Just look at propaganda and the affects of white supremacy and homophobia on Western Canon! But it's not a 1:1 impact.

It's more important to encourage readers to use critical thinking when engaging with fiction, than it is to harass writers who have created content that disgusts you.

You don't know why they're creating that content, and you don't know how many people it's helped - and, so long as it's properly tagged, people who need to avoid that content due to triggers can do so!

Obligatory: if someone uses a fic with an underage pairing to groom someone, that is incredibly fucked up and disgusting. But literally anything can be used to groom kids, sadly. You could point at literally anything, and at some point, it will have been used to further a child's horrific and very real abuse.

Overall, if you actually give a shit about protecting kids, I think there are far more important things to focus on. Such as:

Educating communities about how the vast majority of child sexual abuse comes from close family friends and family members, not strangers sending kids fanfic on the internet.

Educating communities about how the word 'pedophile' has been purposefully corrupted by right wingers to demonize completely innocent queer people because think of the children. This isn't to say there isn't a very real problem with child sexual exploitation & abuse, but we should perhaps be a little wary about throwing around a word grounded in serious reality to refer to fictional scenarios, and enforcing the very Right-Wing idea that 'thinking about [x] act is the same as doing [x] act'.

Focusing on children themselves. We should support good sex & relationship education, so children know their bodies and understand appropriate cultural norms. We should educate children about their rights, and give children broader community support structures so that they feel empowered to disclose abuse. Offering time or money to shelters is a great way to actually support survivors.

Ensuring there are safe and free refuges for children who are being abused IRL, places where they can stay away from family & other potential abusers - i.e., public libraries, community centres, etc. - or at least know there are other witnesses. Volunteering at your local library and donating can genuinely make a difference to abused kids - and all kids in general!

Dismantling cultures of silence around abuse in your personal community. Do not just tell the women in the group to avoid Joe because he has wandering hands. Tell Joe that his behaviour is inappropriate and will no longer be tolerated.

TL;DR - personally, please keep any/all sexual content involving fictional underage people FAR away from me, and do not send me any rape or abuse scenarios (unless we're brainstorming whump as friends, in which case, you can just gimme a warning).

But I am also against harassing artists and creators unless they are harming real children in measurable ways.

[hollie-san]

hiii oso is my f/o as well >.< can you write a fic where his brothers try to set the two of you up because your crushes are sooo obvious !!!

oh hello!! i wasn't thinking anyone would be interested in requests from me haha, yes i'd love to! it's only a little blurb, but i hope it's to your liking. happy to see more oso simps lol, welcome!

You're Telling Me It's Not A Joke? (Oso / GN!Reader)

"Just ask him out already," Choromatsu deadpans.

"HUH-HAHA?" It's a little dramatic but I can't help myself, tripping over my own two feet despite not moving an inch.

"It's getting gross for all of us to watch you two."

"Ah, ah," Jyushimatsu nods uncomfortably in agreement.

"What- What are you talking abouuuut..?" I look away from them, only to realize my gaze has returned to my favorite red hoodie across the fishing spot.

Choro crosses his legs and adjusts his fishing line. "Tch. It's one thing to see you drool over my brother but it's another thing hearing him gush at home like a middle school girl."

"Like how Choromatsu-niisan talks about his idol," Jyushi holds up a sleeve.

"Exactly- hey, wait!"

Across the water, Ichimatsu makes an inaudible comment that makes Osomatsu snicker. If I'm not careful I sometimes wish that smirk was on my mouth, but I can't think like that when he's near, otherwise I'd combust.

Todomatsu says something, too, before Oso looks my way.

My heart flutters.

"Ew, see? You're doing it again, gross. Just go over there. Like right now. I'm serious. I don't wanna deal with it anymore."

"I'm just looking at him!" I whine, forcing myself to turn to the brothers next to me. "Besides, there's no way he'd like me... back..." It's the first explicit time I've verbally hinted of my stupid crush on that guy. When I get no reaction, I realize they genuinely already knew. Have I been that obvious?

"It's bewildering that you are an Osomatsu Girl," Kara speaks up, deep in thought with his chin in his hand. "But less bewildering than it is that he's a Y/N Boy!" He snaps.

"Well! Let's go and ask!" Jyushimatsu takes my hand and pulls me from my chair, dragging me around the venue towards my demise.

"Wait! I'm not ready! I can't do it! JYUSHI-SAN!"

"You're thinking too much about it, ha ha."

The worst part about this entire thing is watching Osomatsu watching me approach, and then freeze up, and then get pushed his way, and then trip into his lap. Scrambling to upright myself I sit on the ground beside him and bow my head.

"Sorry!"

"Falling for me already, Y/N-chan~?"

Ahh. His easygoing nature has always been so nice. I raise and gaze at him longingly. Todomatsu makes some lame excuse to go, and Jyushi drags Ichi along with him, leaving the two of us alone.

"Eh? Eh?? Where is everyone going?" Oso glances around anxiously before standing to follow them, then suddenly stops and gawks at me. Oh, I grabbed his shirt.

"W-Wait," I flush. "Stay with me..?"

I wish he had a more readable expression. I don't know what he's thinking as he stares, and then sits back down. He's thinking, I know that much. Now that I'm in his direct, undivided attention, though, I lose my nerve, and my voice.

"Wanted me all to yourself or something, ha ha?" He looks away and laughs, "Kidding."

"I- Yeah." The linen of my jeans makes my fingers numb. "I... did."

"...You're telling me it's not a joke?" He blurts. "Really? My brothers didn't just- this isn't a prank? Wait, do you like me, Y/N? This means you like me, right?"

"What! No!" I exclaim, then quickly shake my head, "Wait, I mean, yes! It's not a prank, I, I like... you...?" My tone weakens at the end, taking in the way his ears and cheeks redden. This suddenly feels horribly humiliating and unfair. Aren't I the only one being vulnerable here? "And you? Do you like me, too?" I lean forward and put my hands on his knees, which he yelps over.

"Are you kidding? This is- hahahaha- this is like a dream come true! You're hot, y'know? I hold back so many dirty thoughts when you wear your tank tops around us and-"

"Be serious!" I plead, shaking him.

"I am? Oh, you mean, like... say your personality is nice? I think that, too! You're funny, and nice to me, and you get cute when you talk about the things you like, and you're really sexy when you-"

"I've heard enough," I mutter, cutting him off short. My face is burning already, I don't need to explode in front of him, too. "Osomatsu-kun-"

"That, too! You only call me Osomatsu-kun and no one else, I thought you were flirting! I knew it!" He pumps his fist in victory. "Yahoo~! I get a girlfriend! We're dating right? I like you, you like me, c'mon!"

"J...Just like that?"

"What's the problem? Don't you wanna hold hands already? ...Kiss?"

"You're such a dog..." I murmur in embarrassment as he takes my hands and pulls me closer, puckering his lips.

[augustvandyne]

Neeeeeeed some Angela lopez x reader FLUFFFF🫶🏼🫶🏼

okay babes!

sick day

You should’ve just bought a coat, or used one of Angelas, because now you’re both out sick, and no use to the station.

Your girlfriend had tried to convince you plenty of times to just buy a winter coat, but you wanted to stick it out.

As a kid, you couldn’t ever afford a coat, so you never really had one. But now you could afford twenty winter coats if you wanted them.

But you still don’t own one.

Your sickness had been incoming since yesterday, when you had woken up with a small stuffed nose, and a minor sore throat.

And Angela, well, you were gonna try to keep her away from you for most of the day so you wouldn’t get her sick, but that went out the window when you were assigned to patrol with her.

She was a clingy lover, in private. So she loved to kiss you, and do whatever she wanted with you, especially when you two shared the same shop.

You tried to tell her about your sore throat and your stuffed up nose, but she kept telling you she didn’t care, and kept kissing you anyway.

You bet she was starting to think that wasn’t such a good idea, now that you’d both woken up with hoarse voices and weren’t able to get out of bed.

You didn’t mind Angela being sick, though, because her sick voice was almost as hot as her morning voice.

The two of you were going to spend the day taking care of each other, and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

It was hard, but the two of you did eventually drag yourselves out of the bed, and onto the couch.

You’d called your best friend at the station, Lucy, to bring you and your girlfriend some soup, which you knew would lead to a whole basket.

But that was better than nothing at all.

Her and Tim had brought in some ginger ale, as well as the soup, and of course a get well soon basket from Lucy!

You and Angela laughed, and agreed not to eat anything in the basket once the two had left your shared home.

“Oh, I love you,” Angela lay on top of you, turning the channel to a true crime documentary, because that’s what the two of you truly loved to do together.

“I love you, too, Ange,” You kiss the top of her head.

“Ugh, I feel so gross,” Angela buries her face in your chest.

“Me too, baby, me too,” You let out a sigh. “We can take a shower—“

“Mm, no,” Angela’s voice is muffled by your sweatshirt in her face. “I just want you to hold me.”

“That, I can do,” You chuckle.

“I’m so tired,” Angela cries.

“Me too. Think we can con Grey into giving us another day?”

“Maybe if we’re throwing up..” Angela trails off, lifting her head. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“That I pretend to throw up while you call Sergeant Grey? Yes! It’s amazing, and I love you for being so smart,” You smile and tuck a piece of Angela’s hair behind her ear. You pull her into a small kiss, which turns into to more. But you stop before it can go too far, afraid that might actually provoke the bodily fluids.

When you both pull away you both realize Angelas phone is still in the bedroom.

“I’ll go get it,” Angela sighs and stands, temporarily losing her balance, to which you help her stand.

“Don’t need you falling for anyone else,” You cheekily joke, helping her sit back down for a moment.

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Angela rubs her hand down your face, caressing your cheek with her thumb. “I think you made it pretty clear I was yours when you told Jackson to, and I quote, ‘find another t.o. to fuck with’.”

You dip your head into your chest, your cheeks aflame as you laugh at one of your worst decisions, ever.

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Never,” Angela looks at you with more love in her eyes than ever. “I can’t lie, it was hot. The best part was when you pulled me into that kiss. That was the best first kiss ever.”

“Oh, you know it,” You shrug. “It was still embarrassing. How did I not know he was gay? I mean, I’m gay myself. Gosh.”

Angela laughs, shaking her head at you.

“I loved when Grey shouted ‘It’s about damn time’ from the stairs,” You laughed along with her.

“No, the best part was when Tim added, ‘At least take her to dinner before you maul her in the kit hallway’,” The two of you started dying laughing.

“Ah, we’re gonna have to tell that story at our wedding,” Angela says, only half joking.

She leaves a small kiss on your forehead and goes to find her phone.

You were definitely proposing soon.

[ghostflowerhotpotch]

So I'll just tell myself all of the things I can't say to you yet (Fic)

First Chapter here

Pairing: Ghostflower (Miles x Gwen.)

Chapter: 2/4.

Summary: After a mission ends up with Miles injured, Gwen brings Miles to her home and hopes nothing bad comes out of it.

After all, what are the chances he would see that plushie?

"Shit, shit, shit!" Gwen thought as she helped Miles swing across her dimension, trying to look around just in case something else decided to attack them that day; may as well.

Why this was her luck?

Gwen and Miles were having one of their weekly calls, it wasn't scheduled or anything, however somehow they had fallen into the pattern of one of them calling the other at least once a week. Sometimes Miles had called to ask for help with homework or something, and maybe, the art class Gwen has picked up as a way to have a less demanding work course just so happens to be a bit more challenging than she expected, so she would need to call for help with those too.

During said call, both her watch and the police walkie-talkie went on at the same time with similar messages; a villain who has appeared in her dimension and was destroying some offices. She would need to deal with it one way or another, and surprisingly, Miles has offered to come.

Is not that Miles didn't help her out, however, he liked to stay away from things regarding the organization. Even now that it was run by Jess with Miguel only running the technological side of things (and from what she has gathered, self-banished himself on his lab;) Miles preferred to stay away. She couldn't blame him; she owed too much to Jess and the other spiders to feel okay with not helping out now that is only about the people ending in other universes, it didn't feel as gross as some of the other missions they used to have.

He shrugged, and said it was just a friend's favor; at which she smiled as she tried to remember that.

Friends, is what she has insisted upon, is what she should be grateful for, considering Miles could have easily shut her out of his life.

It didn't mean she didn't want much more.

As much as she liked spending time with him, part of her wished she could have found an excuse to just hang out like normal people. She liked being Spider-woman and it was fun doing it alongside him, yet putting her hero persona first for so long and focusing that as their connection with each other, made her wish for some time just like Gwen and Miles.

It didn't take long for her to fully regret accepting his offer when a Rhino from another dimension sent Miles flying directly to a giant picture of the CEO of the company the villain was raiding, which ended with glass getting stuck in his back.

They manage to finish the battle, but Miles wasn't looking too well; he didn't really want to go to HQ, insisting it wasn't that big of a deal, ("Super healing, remember?" "Not with glass in your back, dummy! It could heal badly or-") and of course, if he went to his universe and needed to change to Miles there would be a lot to explain.

And he didn't want to worry his parents now that they know he is Spiderman and promised to be careful.

Feeling especially guilty about it, she told him they could go to her place. She had a first aid kid and training (she did a course shortly after she got bitten, just in case she shouldn't pull to the hospital but needed help,) she would see what she could do there. In the worst-case scenario, she could probably call Peter B's universe and ask May for help.

"We are almost there, " She told him as they moved across the city, she staying beside Miles just in case.

"Good, good," Miles calmly, but Gwen takes advantage that her face is hidden under her face to look at him.

He hasn't really complained, in fact he had tried at first to insist on swinging by himself, shooting down Gwen's suggestion of carrying him (with super strength, she could do it with one arm really.) They had ended up agreeing to do it together, with Gwen having an arm around Miles' waist (being careful with the wound,) as he put it around her shoulders; they were throwing webs at the same time, as one.

She could feel his muscles tense, as well as the warmth he exudes contrasting with the coolness of the night during the summer. If she couldn't hear his hitched breathing, to feel the stickiness on her suit for the blood, perhaps she could have enjoyed this moment with him.

Was too sad how badly she wanted to cling to his side? She knew has always been affectional, but the last thing she needed was to become desperate.

Once they finally made it to the building, she gently guided him down the stairs, indicating for Miles to get against the rail as she slid the window open, "Sorry for the mess," she said as she helped him get in.

They entered the living room; she normally didn't feel too self-conscious about the apartment, yet she could see that not only there were papers on the table, but also both mugs were still dirty from this morning (Gwen has woken up late because of a mission she had yesterday, her dad probably needed to be ready for university, getting a new job as a coach for the gymnastic team.) one of his jackets was still on the chair. The rest of the apartment was still untidy, with shoes around as well as books that could belong to either of them.

Her dad and she were busy, and she got used to untidiness when she was growing up with him as an only parent with a very time-consuming job. It didn't mean that it didn't get to her at times. Her room wasn't much better-

Her eyes opened in shock as she remembered that the plushie of Miles was in her bed, close to her lyrics notebook that had her favorite polaroid beside it, as inspiration.

The only saving grace was that the door to her room was closed, yet all she could think of was "Why do I need to be such a lovesick idiot that I have literal evidence lying around?"

If Miles truly didn't suspect her feelings, god would only know how.

"Pff, I think is fine, you should have seen my room and Ganke's during finals week," He chuckled weakly, looking around "Um, should we do this in the living room or your roo-"

"Actually!" Gwen interrupted, a bit too abruptly and squeaky for her taste. Straightening her back, she tries to guide Miles as a distraction "Let's go to the bathroom, is easier that way!"

"Oh! Yeah that makes sense."

She is glad that she thought that one quick because certainly, the only thing she was thinking of was making sure he didn't get to her room.

It wasn't the first time he was here, however, he has never actively stayed for too long. Gwen had tried for the most to keep her hero life away from her dad; even if they were working on it, she didn't feel too comfortable with him about it. Funnily enough despite knowing what she can do, he also sometimes got a bit protective of her; and he was already paranoid enough about society to add her dad start getting the wrong ideas because Miles was alone with her in their house.

(It has been hard enough to convince her dad nothing happened the few times Miles came by; she had enough as it is to tell her dad how she is an absolute goner for a guy who had already moved on.)

As she indicated Miles to sit on the toilet, she took the first aid from below the sink and was thankful that she had the provision to have it up to date; even when it wasn't for her it came in handy for her dad even to this day. She stopped once she turned around and saw him.

Miles was sitting awkwardly while showing his back to her, toying with the fabric of his suit around his knee, too casual for how his back was looking. The fabric was completely ruined on the back, with multiple cuts around as well as some glass still there (Gwen had done her best to take the bigger pieces before getting here, but she couldn't take everything with barely any light and her hands.) The bleeding seemed to have stopped for the most part, drying it up and some of the smaller cuts already closing; it didn't make the situation less dire.

Moving without realizing it, her fingertips caress the top of his back where his skin still was intact "Oh Miles, I am so sorry."

"C'mon, it can be that bad right? Is not like I am coughing glass," He jokes, half smiling as he turns his face towards her.

"It isn't good, if I just had been more alert I could have-"

"Hey," she tops rambling as he feels his hand on top of hers, with him turning his head the best he can in this position to look at her, "I signed up for this too, remember? It just comes with the job, and if me being here meant you didn't end up like this, then I am glad I did it."

Gwen was someone who for the most part, was able to control her emotions, or at least to keep her expressions blank enough to hide whatever she was truly feeling. It has become such a habit that she her eyes opened just the smallest bit to that revelation, and she was sure the way her breath hitched was as inaudible as it could be for superhumans.

Yet before she could feel her heartbeat pick up, he looked back to the front and moved his hand away casually, "I would have done the same for anyone in the spidey-gang you know?"

She moved her hand away from him, and felt lucky he has turn around so she didn't bother to hide the disappointment in her face, "Friends is good, being with the band is good, I should be happy I have that."

She is, not just while hearing this.

"Yeah, of course." She whispered in a response that seemed more for herself than for him.

Going back to the task at hand, she quickly realizes that she can't do this with him still dressed up with the top part of his suit, it was almost amazing it has hold up as well as it did. Making sure to keep her voice even, she says "Um, is there a way you can remove the top? I know is a one-piece but I don't think I can do this with you well, using it."

Feeling the redness in her cheeks, she mentally chastised herself; focus on your job dammit!

"Right, right," Miles said coughing a bit, before proceeding to move his arms out, not needing to bother with any zipper since the damage was that big.

Gwen helped him in what he could, including taking parts of the suit as gently as possible while they were kind of glued to his body; eventually, the top of his suit was lying around his lap, and she was staring at the muscles in his back.

The wound! Yeah, definitely what she was looking at.

While using tweezers to remove glass, debris, and such, she tried to not look too much at his skin and muscle tone. She try to avoid thinking about the pulse she felt in his skin as she cleaned with water and alcohol once she has been able to take anything that shouldn't be there.

She was satisfied with the job, it wasn't a nurse's job and his accelerated healing did help, but at least it seemed like Miles wouldn't risk infection now.

"I guess we are done," She said while caressing his shoulders, feeling bad for how she wished to have an excuse to continue doing so. She has always been a cuddle bug despite her struggles to talk about her feelings, and she always had the hardest time trying to not go to Miles and don't let him go.

"Thanks, it feels much better already," he said cheerily, and Gwen wonders if he was being honest or if he was just telling her so to make her feel less guilty about all of this "Do you have anything I can-"

He stopped talking when he notices her face morphing in concentration, and in doing so he seemed to notice a whistle that was becoming stronger. Miles may had not picked up because he wasn't used to it, Gwen however has grown up with that her entire life.

"That's my dad!" She said, cursing to herself, "I need to hide you."

"What?! Really? I mean-"

"He is paranoid! You know, dads with daughters tend to be a bit like that," She said hastily as an excuse, knowing very well her dad wouldn't be paranoid if he didn't know about the polaroid, and that was the tip of the iceberg. As she said that she quickly went out of the bathroom towards her room "Just let me tidy up a bit! DON'T COME YET!"

It was stupid of her to lose time like this, yet her mind couldn't decide if it was worse than her dad saw Miles with his entire top missing, or Miles seeing the plushie and the rest of her things; so deciding that neither was an option she threw the plushie, the notebook, and the polaroid all in her closet and shut the door close.

She was hearing the keys going on the entrance door when she pushed Miles as softly as possible into her room, "I will find a way to get him out of here soon, I am sorry."

Before he could let him say anything, she closed the door on his face, and turned around in time to see her father "Dad! You are here."

"Practice is already over, why I wouldn't be here?" He replied none the wiser, leaving his jacket in the same spot as the other one, not even thinking twice about things piling up.

Like her problems seemed to be doing.

"Is fine! I can find an excuse, then I can make sure Miles gets home okay, and everything will be fine."

She needed to hope for it at least, besides, how bad things could turn out?

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Okay, let's see how this experiment works out; remember guys, ao3 is down and they need us to stay away until they can fix what's going on.

If you like the fic, please leave a comment! Third chapter here!

[miguelsfangservice]

BEYOND THE SPOTLIGHT IV

Pairing: Miguel O'hara x F!Famous Idol Reader Warnings: Angst/comfort, fame has caused reader a lot of pressure and insecurities. Summary: It doesn't matter he's at HQ trying to keep the multiverse afloat, your face, your voice, your smile and laugh follows him everywhere. No, he is not losing it (yet); it's just that it’s kind of inevitable when most spiders under his command are... how did Gwen called it? Ah-staning you? Well, he can't really complain, it's his girlfriend, after all.

PART I, PART II, PART III, PART IV

The way home is awkward, at best. Usually, when Miguel had time to pick you up he would convince you to swing with him to your shared apartment, but now he walked alongside you, never letting go of your hand, caressing your skin under his fingers once very few minutes.

You knew he was anxious about the whole ordeal and, honestly? Even though you would rarely get angry at him, a part of you felt some bitterness towards Miguel.

“I did not mean to behave that way I did  in front of everyone” he mutters.

“Miguel, I don’t want to talk about this now, please­…”

“Cielo, no, we need to talk about this now, alright? I know I messed up by bringing the subject at that time but I don’t think I regret it.”

“Seriously, Miguel? I’m probably getting benched for god knows how long and that’s all you have to say for yourself!?”

You are face to face with him know or, well, with his damn height more like head to chest. People have started walking around both of you after you decided to release your hand from his hold and stop walking.

“No, of course I feel bad for the damn outcome but I don’t regret telling Ashley what she needed to hear!” you can tell he’s trying not to yell too loud as to not attract too much attention.

“I’m not a child, Miguel! I could have handled this myself and privately!”

You can feel your blood start boiling when he lets out a disbelieved chuckle, rolling his eyes and putting both his hands inside his pockets; Miguel looks down and gently shakes his head.

“And when were you exactly planning to do that?” Miguel raises his head to look at you and the harsh expression on his face makes you shiver a bit. “When you let yourself hit rock bottom so they could get their money?”

“Miguel­— “

“I was not lying back there, you know?” he visibly relaxes and tears spring to your eyes once more when you remember what Miguel said to Ashley, you knew, deep down, he was right; she was manipulating you…but the worst part was that you were letting her do it. “You are more than enough, if they can’t possibly see that it’s their loss, not yours. You are way too good to conform to just this one company and Ashley knows that, acting like you are the one who should be grateful to be working with them and not the other way around.”

Miguel’s heart breaks even more at seeing your state, your bitten raw lips, shaky hands and bags under your eyes. He puts his right hand over your cheek and caresses it, you close your eyes and lean into his touch.

You feel weird, sweaty and sobbing like a kid in the middle of a street full of people, but Miguel’s rough hand spread a delicious and comforting warmth all over your body; the best way you could describe what Miguel’s touch makes you feel is that of coming back home and nuzzling yourself into your comfy bed after a long and cold day out.

He’s definitely your weakness but also your biggest strength, no one could ever disarm you the way he does.

Extending your arms towards him like a child wanting to be held, Miguel moves his hands towards your waist and pulls you towards his body; with your face to his chest, you let yourself cry as much as you want to, choosing to forget everything and everybody else.

“Let’s go eat something and then you’ll probably need a good long day of sleep” he whispers softly, caressing your hair.

“I think I’ll need a shower first; I feel gross.” you mumble against Miguel’s chest and he chuckles.

“You don’t smell that bad--”

“Uh,Miguel?”

You feel Miguel freeze, which makes you open your eyes and look towards the voice calling him.

Peter B. Parker was half joking when he told Jess he believed Miguel to be dating someone, so him following Miguel around was more or so to kill some time, Peter really did not think he would end up finding something interesting.

But, oh boy, he could not have been prepared for the scene before his eyes. The ice cream Peter had purchased a few minutes ago melting on his hand as he looked at the couple hugging in the middle of the street as if they were on a romantic movie.

Miguel looks at him as if Peter had caught him stealing something, but his shock is quickly replaced with visible anger, which lets Parker know he is in so much trouble; it truly seemed like a funny idea to follow Miguel around for a bit to see what was up with him, but now? Yeah, no, he probably preferred to be fighting Rhino or anyone else right now.

“What the shock are you doing here, Peter?”

Peter stammers, trying to find the right words. "I...uh, wasn’t spying or anything. I just happened to be in the neighborhood, you know? And, uh, I saw you guys hugging, so, I thought I'd say hi. Friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, you know?"

You shift uncomfortably, feeling a mixture of emotions – from the lingering frustration of your earlier argument to the awkwardness of being caught in this intimate moment by an unexpected spectator.

“Oh” when you lock eyes with Peter he gives you a nervous smile and waves at you. “Um—Your ice cream is dripping.”

Miguel sighs, he knew he did not want this relationship to remain a secret from his friends forever, but this was not the way he wanted them to find out. Leave it to Peter to make things harder for him, it even surprises him he did not bring Mayday with him to spy on his boss.

“I’m Peter, by the way... and you are?”

You can’t help but laugh a bit at his nervousness, you shake his hand and when you tell Peter your full name something seems to click in his head.

Peter's eyes widen in surprise as he processes your words. "Wait, you're the one Hobie has been talking about? The musician?" His nervous smile turns into a genuine one, and he seems to relax a bit.

You nod, the tension easing as you find common ground. "Yep, that's me. I guess my music has made its way into Spider-HQ gossip."

Peter laughs, scratching the back of his head. "Well, yeah. Hobie's a huge fan. He's been trying to get me into it too, but I'm more of a classic rock kind of guy."

Miguel clears his throat, bringing the attention back to the present situation. "As fascinating as this conversation is, Peter, we were kind of in the middle of something before you, supposedly, ‘stumbled’ upon us."

"Right, right. Sorry about that. I'll just... leave you two to it. But uh, you should definitely visit us at the HQ sometime soon, I’m sure everyone would be excited to meet you."

“Sure, although, I’ve already visited the HQ a few times but it wouldn’t hurt to do it formally now, right?”

“Oh, so Miguel here was sneaking you into the HQ” he seems to forget Miguel is pissed off with him when he throws a playful smile towards him, but realizes his mistake soon when his boss almost growls at him. “Well—It was nice meeting you, Y/N!”

As Peter awkwardly makes his exit, you turn to Miguel with a playful smirk. "Well, that went better than expected, didn't it? I guess our relationship is officially out in the open now."

Miguel nods, squeezing your hand. "I didn't plan for it to happen like this but let's just roll with it."

[merrellholland]

Not So Bad After All → P.Parker AU

HEYYYY YALL; its been a minute and I am sooooo sorry LMAO. I promise to get back into my writing era <3

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Person: Peter Parker (Tom Holland)

AU: college hockey player, frat boy, still spider-man in secret

Words: 2.4k

Warning: swearing, slight bullying (but nothing too deep)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Never in my life would I expect to have been dressed up in the most stinky and bulky fury suit… yet, here I am dressed as Sparky the Eagle. I was currently a junior at Empire State University located in beautiful New York, and throughout the years I may have found myself in a bit of a dilemma. 

Money was never an easy task for my family and I, in fact I got into this school with a huge scholarship to help support my financial needs. Despite that, I still needed to pay some tuition fees and that meant that I needed a job. This isn’t my first rodeo though, back home I had many jobs all at the same time during high school in order to help my mom with paying bills. The only hard part was trying to find a job in New York, a place that I’ve never been to until I started my first semester at Empire State. 

As I’ve completed the first two years and am now currently in my third, I’ve noticed the major stereotypical things for a college on T.V were coming to real life. The sorority girls were straight-up obnoxious and cruel to other girls who weren’t part of their sorority house, the frat boys were shirtless 24/7 while playing beer pong and having girls in bikinis all over their front yards of their gigantic frat house every Friday, and lastly the sport-frat boys. These guys were a whole different level of frat boys, and I’ve learned that very early on. These guys? Not only were they known for their handsome looks but most of these guys were going to real professional sports leagues after college, and we all know how that goes for them… in terms of love life. 

All the girls (and some guys) would be over, flirting constantly with them and not really taking interest in their sport but rather their six-pack abs and looks.  

As much as it pains me to say the cliche phrase “not like other girls” it's true. I really wasn't like the other girls swooning over these guys 24/7 and attending their friday night parties after classes were done. I was more the type of person who would prefer to finish homework and then cozy up with some blankets and a classic 2010’s rom-com. 

But now I can’t even do that since my new job requires me to be at the ice rink every week on Fridays from 6-9pm. Six to nine! That’s three hours of prime time that I could be doing homework! And that’s not even the worst part,my job was that I had to be the mascot for the ice-hockey team during their games and interacting with the fans. The Empire State hockey team was one of the best in the college leagues throughout the nation and most players got into the NHL as soon as they graduated. 

And now I’m their mascot, well I dress up as their mascot and that means getting a big sweaty and gross costume every Friday for 3-4 hours… great. Not that I could complain though, since surprisingly the pay wasn’t that bad due to the fact that you’re a student. Today was my first day on the job. The Empire Eagles were playing against the Cornell Big Red’s today and it was a home game so many students were going to attend. 

After I arrived at the rink, the manager handed me the keys to the supply storage room to change into the eagle costume. Getting into that costume was a full ass workout, the smell is something I’ve never smelt before and the amount I was sweating was unbearable. Nevertheless, I got into that God awful attire and headed outside to the ice-rink. The coolness of the air inside did help a little, but I could still feel the beads of sweat trickling down my face. 

My manager told me to practice walking on the ice with the costume since during the halftime break you had to collect all the tokens of appreciation from the fans as they threw it onto the rink from their seats. I slowly walked onto the ice with my giant eagle feet and waddled back and forth to try to get used to it before the game started, I practiced bending down to pick up the gifts  in character and tried to come up with some signature eagle moves… might as well have some fun with it righ–

“Yo excuse me but the rink is for the players to practice right now.” 

I quickly snapped my head to look behind me and– 

Great. A sport-frat boy. 

Peter Parker was someone that was greatly known throughout the university, top GPA, great looks, apparently great in the bedroom (so I’ve heard), and was the centerman for the Empire Eagles hockey team. Though I’ve never really paid attention to him. And as much as I wanted to dislike him, I’ve never personally met him before or even talked to him… so who am I to judge? 

After all, he did ask somewhat politely and– why the heck am I overthinking this? Just apologize and move on Y/N!

I cleared my throat and attempted to have a deeper voice, “Sorry dude I wasn’t aware, I’ll be on my way now” I said… and cringed internally after saying that. 

Peter nodded his head and smiled, “No worries, just a little jittery for the game so I wanted some extra practice” He replied. 

I nodded my head and then exited the rink, going back to the storage room so nobody would see me yet. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The game started and was currently ending the second quarter with the score being 2-1, the Empire Eagles winning and the Cornell Big Red’s tailing behind. I could tell that all of the players from Empire State were filled with happiness… and might I add overconfident and cocky. But that was something that I couldn’t pay attention to since I had to focus on giving it my all while I walked towards the ice rink at halftime and collected all the gifts that were thrown onto the ice from the fans in the stadium. 

I walked in character as the fun spunky eagle while walking on the ice and picking up the teddy bears with a girl's number in sharpie written on it and a bunch of red roses. As I picked them up and headed back, I took a quick glance and the audience. There were some students who seemed genuinely happy to be there and there were those… What do people call them? Oh yeah puck bunnies? Yeah there were a whole lot of girls wearing those boob jackets from lululemon and attempting to look cold but also cute and petite. I mean again, I’m not one to judge so you do you I guess. 

After I collected all of the gifts from the fans, I took some pictures with a couple of kids and I enjoyed that part. I liked seeing the smiles on their faces as they stood proud with me as their parents took photos. It definitely seemed like a core memory for them and I’m glad that I somewhat got to be a part of that. 

As the third and fourth quarter went on, it was brutal for us. Cornell absolutely demolished Empire State and beat us 4-2. I guess that’s what our players get for being cocky and overconfident throughout the whole game, thinking that they’ve got this. 

After the game ended and the fans left the stadium, my manager said to stay behind and clean the place up and pick up any extra gifts that were left. As I bent down (still in my eagle costume) to pick up some flowers that were left on the ice, something extremely heavy bumped into me from behind causing me to fling forward and make an umph sound. 

“What the fuck?” I cursed in a whisper. 

“DUDE what the fuck are you still doing here?! You need to get out, it's closed practice now looser” the voice said. 

I turned around and looked at the man who was clearly a player on the Empire State Eagles, he had blonde hair and green eyes and was definitely 6’1”. Shit, what was I supposed to do? My manager literally told me to clean the place up and then help security to lock up the stadium! 

“Bro be nice, you don’t gotta be mean” Another boy said. 

As I looked up, I saw that that other boy was no other than Peter Parker. But before I could register that, he offered me a hand and I immediately accepted it. 

I attempted to not sound like a scared wimp so I deepened my voice a little, “Uh thanks dude, I wasn’t aware that it was a closed practice… I’ll uh keep that in mind next time” I said to him. 

He smiled, “Don’t worry, Charlie’s just a snob” He replied. 

“Yeah I can tell” I responded while walking out of the rink. 

He laughed again while combing through his sweaty brown curls, giving me butterflies–

Wait what. 

Nope. Nope. Never. Never in a million years. I refuse. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The next couple of weeks went by normally, except I’ve started to notice Peter Parker more often. I never realized he was in three of my classes. In my morning class he would wear his hockey sweatshirt with gray sweatpants and in the afternoon he would take off his sweatshirt, revealing a tight-fitted white shirt that showed off his biceps. 

Damn, now I understand why girls swoon over guys like him… bro’s majestic. 

But my mama always told me to focus on my studies, boys come after. And that's what I planned to do, stay focused. He probably doesn’t even know me since at school I’m practically a nobody. I mean I join clubs, I’m in choir, and I’m part of many study groups so most people would know who I am but they probably have other friends to talk to besides me. The same goes for my roommates, they know me but they have other friend groups. 

Once again, it was Friday and that meant that we had another home game. The Eagles were playing against the NYU Bobcats. I went into the stadium and got into my disgusting and sweaty eagle costume. Throughout the weeks, I think I slowly got into character and found new dances to help entertain the little kids during timeouts and in between quarters. 

As the game started, I did my little dances whenever I could and the score at the end of the second quarter was 1-1. The stakes were going to be high but I have a feeling that we were gonna win this one. 

During the third quarter, I sat on the bench that was reserved for me and watched Peter, jersey number 4, skate all over the ice with his hockey stick. He had the puck, all of his attention was on it. The whole audience had a feeling that he was gonna score a goal but then all of a sudden one of the NYU players stole the puck from him and skated furiously across the other side of the rink. 

You could see Peter cursing and quickly going to the other side along with his other teammates. Ever since that moment, it seemed that something triggered Peter… he was starting to get more aggressive and ruthless. It made me anxious to see his behavior on the ice, but nevertheless I kept watching. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Despite the tight game, the Eagles won 3-2 and the whole crowd celebrated which meant that many gifts were thrown down onto the rink. Teddy bears and roses were everywhere and it was all me that had to clean it up. I walked on the ice with my feet stuck in the puffy eagle claws of my costume, gathered all of the gifts, and put them in a big container that I dragged with me across the ice. After I got all the stuffed animals and flowers in the container I headed towards my manager to give it to. As I handed it to him, he thanked me and said I was free as soon as I checked the whole stadium again to see if there was anyone else. I nodded and went back to the arena. 

I checked to see if there were any other fans that were trying to stay behind, but didn’t find any… but gosh my feet hurt so much and I just need a little break before heading back to my dorm. 

I took out the headpiece of the eagle costume and sighed as the cool breeze from the arena chilled my flushed cheeks. I then took out the rest of my costume which left me with my sweaty ponytail and loose hair strands framing my face along with my black leggings and shirt. Though I didn’t take it into consideration that there would be anyone else entering the stadium again after the game was over. But I guess I was wrong, because all of a sudden I heard a voice from behind me: 

“I didn’t realize you were a girl,” I turned my head around to see who it was. 

Peter Parker? I thought in my head. 

“Or pretty.” he finished his statement with his mouth parting slightly. 

I could feel my cheeks warm up despite the cool air as I laughed awkwardly, “W-What? Oh t-thanks… you look pretty too” I replied, not thinking about what I just said. 

Peter just nodded and he looked like he was seconds away from drooling as he continued to stare at me… he really does make a girl feel special. 

“Uhm, are you doing some extra practice? Or–” I say trying to break the silence. 

Peter slightly shook his head and cleared his throat, “Uh yeah, it’s just I don’t feel like I gave it my all today even though we won so I wanted to get some practice in… if that’s okay?” he says. 

I smiled and nodded my head, “Yeah sure, I’ll just go tell my manager and put this costume away.” I told him as I stood up.

He smiled back at me with his teeth as I walked towards the manager’s office, feeling intense butterflies cause Peter fucking Parker just called me pretty… WHAT IS MY LIFE?!

You know, I said in the beginning that I wasn’t like other girls but now I definitely think I am (well at least internally). 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

AN: PART TWO?? 😏

[loserchildhotpants]

My mother is looking for me.

I silently went no-contact a few months ago.

Years ago, when I first went no-contact, I announced that that was what I was doing, and it does occur to me that I didn't owe her an explanation then, just as I don't now. There is an aspect to me that has changed since the last time I went no-contact, though. I'll get to that.

My mother and I were extremely enmeshed for most of my life. Several counselors have referred to the relationship as covertly incestuous, and that stands to reason, actually. I hate it, I hate that terminology, it feels gross, but in retrospect, so does my relationship with her, it's just hard to see it as gross, or the source of such enduring discomfort when it's all you've ever known. So, I definitely didn't see it for a long time, it's hard to see the picture from inside the frame. When I look back, though, her behavior is deplorable.

She was less like a mom and more like a friend, and the thing was, she was a shitty friend.

In summation, she was wildly inconsistent; at times, she rose to the occasion and was what I needed, when I needed it, but those times were rare, and minimal in the face of all the rest of the time when she *commanded* me to be and do things like, rub her feet while she cried about my father's limp dick, or she'd start whining nasally while smacking me with her naked feet, talking about how mean I am to her.

She was always so angry in the face of a boundary. I was maybe 9 or 10 when I had to ask her to stop kissing me on the mouth when I was going to bed, and she got so upset with me. She asked sexually or medically invasive questions, and would often bully me and make fun of whatever the answer wound up being.

She openly bullied my sister, and favored me, and it was really evident that if I held fast to boundaries like my sister did, she would retract her love, just as she had with my sister.

She pit us against each other our entire childhoods, she's been manipulative, vindictive, and careless. She has facilitated some of the worst events of trauma and abuse I've suffered in my life, because her having fun or being perceived some specific way by other adults meant so much more to her than her kids being safe.

So, she's not motherly, she's not a nice friend to have, she is mostly a highly reactive child that needs constant gentle-parenting, and will not be held to account for anything she feels makes her 'look bad.'

All this to say, she can't function in any capacity for me that is worth the risk of the injury I incur when I'm around her. She is the elephant's foot of mental illness to me; the closer I get, the longer I stay, the sicker I become.

She's poisoned her entire side of the family against me, she'll tell basically anyone that will listen that I'm a pathological liar who inexplicably hates her for no valid reason, that I'm mentally unstable, and that she's clearly failed as a parent since I turned out so horribly.

On top of all this, we are morally antithetical to one another. At a fundamental level, what I think it means to be a good person has nothing to do with what it means to her, and there's no compromising that.

I used to feel great anxiety at the prospect of never speaking to her again, I used to wrack my brain for a way that this could be a failing on my part, because if it's my fault, I'm just a bad daughter, maybe I can fix that.

I've made myself so small for her, I trimmed so much down, and masked the rest to look how she wanted it to, and she was *still* unhappy with me. There's nothing I can do to secure her love, it's too conditional, and frankly, I don't want to perform like that anymore.

So, when separating by any degree, no-contact or low-contact, over the years, I'd feel anxiety, self-reproach, guilt, shame, but I don't feel that this time - or - that may be a lie. I *do* feel those things, just not in the quantities I have before.

Mostly, though, I feel badly for her.

Things weren't awful all the time, she wasn't *always* terrible, and in fact, with my father living and breathing under the same roof, she was still my only remotely functional parent. It's not as though I don't have love for her - I was born with love for her. It comes naturally, inherently.

I keep thinking to myself that she didn't think life would turn out the way it did, and she must spend a lot of time very sad about that.

When she calls my sister, sobbing about how she can't seem to contact me, she's not crying because she misses me, she's crying because this wasn't how the story was meant to go.

As enmeshed as we were, and as masked as I was to her, she was unmasked to me, and I think I know her pretty well.

I think she lived under this impression that the high's of life were all that mattered, and if she just avoided thinking about things that caused her discomfort, they wouldn't happen; she'd be young and hot forever, she'd always be the most popular girl at school, the most likable boss bitch at work, she'd have this air of Dignified Woman about her, she'd be super lucky just the way she was born, cultured, well-traveled, charming, upper-middle class, and life would *look* a certain way.

But she didn't invest in the future, didn't save anything, spent wildly, and we lost our home in 2008. Soon after, she divorced the man she'd spent 30 years with, the both of them hating each other the entire time. Then her eldest went no-contact, then the ex-husband needed to do the same, and then her golden mini-me, her youngest 'abandons,' her just the same.

So, she doesn't live a lavish lifestyle with cosmopolitan friends on the Upper East Side, she works 3 jobs in Florida that she'll be working til she's in her 70's, her ex-husband won't risk being near her because he has minimal contact with their kids and feels that consorting with her will pass whatever contagion she has onto him and he'll lose what crumbs he considers a successful relationship with his daughters. (The guy also thinks he's a Good Father for not having beaten us regularly, so his metrics about what is quality is pretty questionable)

In her head, she had this idea - she'd marry this really handsome guy, and her love could Fix him, y'know? He was so angry, so sad, so 'damaged,' and they had such great physical chemistry while they were young, she'd make it work, so they'd *look* great together. He'd work a particular kind of job she got him (and he did, for 15 years), she'd work a high paying job too, and still do all the housework, keep everything trim and pretty, including herself and her kids. We'd be a perfect family unit, beautiful to look at, unburdened by profound societal despair or existential thinking, we'd all be socially acceptable, and lovely, and she'd retire at 60 with comfort, if not a friend in her husband than a partner at least, she'd certainly never feel alone, and that's not what happened.

Her family unit fell apart, because nothing meaningful was holding it together. She might argue that love was holding it together, but if the love is conditional, that foundation will invariably, eventually fail.

I think that's why it's not enough for her that she has all of her blood relatives rallying around her, validating her perpetual victimhood, telling her how much of a martyr she is, and how wronged she's been. The sympathy is fine, but it's not lasting, and that pitying attention may sustain her for a while, but then she's alone again, sitting in the ruins of the future she built for herself, not wanting to look inward at all, because to her, accountability is tantamount to personal attack. She won't look inward the same way she would never self-harm.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. I get it. I get that, at 66, it has to be fucking heart-rending to look back on one's life thus far, and take stock, and think 'no, no, no, it wasn't supposed to be like this at all!'

It doesn't really matter that her expectations weren't rooted in reality. She maintained them, and so she's disappointed.

It's a sad affair, the entire thing. I feel badly for her. She thought she'd be young and hot forever, she thought the family unit she built and birthed would owe her complete, unwavering fealty, she thought she'd be so much more comfortable than she is, and here she is, full enough of self-pity to drown in it, unable or unwilling to recognize that she is the only one that can save herself.

It's not like she's at the end of her life or anything, if she wanted to change herself, and her life, and what it looks and feels like, she could do that. It would take focus, discipline, and frankly a lot of therapy, but it could be done. It's not like the wrap up music is playing.

Still, it won't be the life she dreamt of for herself, and when I think of her, I see this injured child, red-faced crying over dashed hopes. It's sad.

I need to stay away, because if I get near the crying child, she begs me to comfort her, and then scratches, punches, and claws at me, screams at me that her misery is all my fault, that I'm the one that abandoned this child and she'll never forgive that, she'll never forgive how heartless and cold I am, and all of that hurts very much, because she's *not* a child, she's my mother, and so when she says these things, yells, cries, transfers all that onto me, it wounds me.

My mother is looking for me, and I can't let her find me. At least, not right now. I don't have the emotional bandwidth for that sort of interaction right now.

There's no point to this really. I just had to put my thoughts down somewhere.

[cherryluvrx3]

Sadists and men are irritating. One who is both is the worst of all.

Okita Sougo x fem afab reader 

This is pretty much just a self indulgent stupid fic I thought would be funny. Based of a screenshot from another fic (I’ll put it at the end cuz I don’t wanna spoil the part lol) 

Cw. talk about pregnancy, abortion, (not at all seriously though), Okita calls you a slut like twice, some smut at the end and breeding??? Also in general Okita being a piece of shit like usual

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

As the Shinsengumi nurse, I was no stranger to the spontaneous idiotic conversations men talk about. After all, my job keeps me surrounded by uncivilized men all the time. At first, the soldiers were a bit wary and even shy to act crude around me, not used to having a woman in the workplace, but after years of working there, the excitement and special treatment had worn off. Now they have no issue talking about any questionable, disgusting, filthy topics.

The other day I heard a debate that spanned about an hour long on ‘What do you think would kill you faster? Uncontrollable vomiting or shitting?’ 

Seriously the topics these men conjure up can be nothing short of abysmal. Part of me understands that as men who follow such a strict code, uphold the law, put their lives on the line, and are forced to live with other men, they don’t have as much freedom as others or much time to enjoy themselves. And since they’re stuck with each other, all their stupid ass energy is quick to infect and spread and soon enough you got everyone talking about vomit and shit when they should be, I don’t know, doing their jobs?

At the end of the day it’s whatever though. 

While they can be moronic and gross, I have to admit that they bring personality and excitement to my job. Since I’m just a lone nurse working in a simple on-grounds clinic, serious injuries go to hospitals while I mainly give them check ups and treat their scrapes and boo-boos. Having to treat a bunch of beat up men is much more entertaining when they pass the time talking passionately about the most dumb or horrid things imaginable. At times like those, I find myself having to rewrap some guy's arm for the third time because I can’t focus from all the gut wrenching laughter and tears in my eyes. 

Of course there are times when they try to involve me in the conversations. I usually opt out of all the really nasty sick ones because of personal preference but this was one that wasn’t a disgusting talk really, more like a hypothetical. Specifically about me and my boyfriend, Sougo Okita. 

The two of us had met because of our jobs of course and he ended up taking an interest in me because I bit back when he teased me. Initially he just liked messing with me and I hated his guts but after a while we both had grown strangely close and ended up falling into a relationship without either of us actually asking each other out. Too much pride for either of us to spit out our feelings? How embarrassing..

Anyway, the question was asked by Yamazaki, who was accompanied by Saitou. The two of them were getting their bruises, scrapes and cuts treated that they had gained from training together. 

“So (Y/n), what would you do if you were pregnant with Captain Okita’s kid?” 

“What?” The dead look I shot him quickly told him I was not amused with where the conversation was heading. 

“No- I mean-ow! C’mon! Surely it’s crossed your mind?” Yamazaki yelped as I aggressively dabbed an alcohol soaked cotton ball into a bad scrape on his knee. 

[Assuming that you two are… active?] Saitou’s notebook read. 

I huffed and felt my cheeks get hot before muttering, “We are,” I got up to throw the cotton ball in the trash can, “but! That’s really none of your business.” I said and poked Yamazaki’s shoulder where I knew he had a tender bruise making him yelp again. 

“But Okita’s always telling your business!”

“What?” The dead look once again on my face as I waited for them to explain. 

[Well sometimes the other men ask him about how things are between you two and he says that..] 

Saitou flips the page,

[..You’re really a big cock slut who can’t get enough of him -///-] he used his notebook to cover up his blushing face as if he didn’t already have a mask on and draw a blushing emoticon. 

Holy shit.

I mean.. men have always been shameless assholes that often have no problems over sharing the personal details of their girlfriends to other men for the imaginary cool guy points that dudes have but HOLY SHIT!?

I felt all color drain from my face only for it to instantly come back with how hard my blood was pumping from anger and embarrassment. 

“Oh my- That’s not true by the way!” I grab Yamazaki by his bruised shoulders and shake him. “If anything, he’s the slut! He’s the one that can’t keep his hands off me!” I yell, shaking Yamazaki even harder while Saitou helplessly watches. 

“Whatever!” I drop Yamazaki onto the medical bed where he lays lifelessly. “To answer your question, if I was pregnant with that asshole’s child, it’d be gone as soon as I can schedule the appointment!” 

“What?” 

I turn to the door to see said asshole boyfriend at the doorway.

Under normal circumstances I’d maybe be happy to see him but instead I huff and roll my eyes. “You heard me, if I had your kid in my stomach I’d get rid of it before that devil spawn could be formed!” I turned around and started gathering what I needed to treat Saitou now. 

“Okay wait. What’s even going on?” Okita asked confused on the random topic and why I was even mad at him when he hadn’t done anything yet. 

Saitou quickly wrote to give him a swift summary. 

“Oh. So you heard about that huh? Or I mean read about that.” Okita chuckled, not at all ashamed that I found out he’d been telling people that I’m practically a horn dog. “What? Are you embarrassed?” He went to wrap his arms around my waist from behind and leaned to talk by my ear, “All I’m doing is telling everyone how much you love me and how insatiable you get for my di-” I elbow him in the gut hard and watch as he doubled over with a groan. 

“God you are so irritating!” I yell and walk over to Saitou so I could start treating him but he backs away in fear I’ll do more harm than good. 

“Yeah I guess I could see why you wouldn’t want his child,” Yamazaki chuckles, “I’m sure he’d stress you out like crazy- Ow! Ow!” He whimpers as Okita starts rubbing into Yamazaki’s bruises that he somehow was able to find.

“Really? That’s why you wouldn’t have my kid?” He asks while still harassing poor Yamazaki. 

“Not just that. There’s no way you’d be a good dad. You’re way too childish and would probably ditch me, making me end up as a single mother because you ‘couldn’t handle the pressure!’” I grumbled while I disinfected some of Saitou’s cuts. 

[I have to admit that makes sense. After all you both are still young and a child is a lot of responsibility] Saitou’s notebook read. “Right? You get me.” I patted his back before going to toss the garbage in the bin. 

Okita walked up to me and gently cupped my chin, tilting my face to the side. I think that he’s gonna give me a sweet kiss on the cheek to make me feel better, something he does whenever I get too worked up over his bullying. 

He leans down slowly and I let him, after all I deserve some sweet loving- nevermind he just stuck his tongue in my ear. 

“Sougo! Ew!” I scream as I shove him away and frantically try to clean his spit. He smirked from the satisfaction of irritating me once again but his smug look eventually faded.

I could tell Okita was upset but I wasn’t sure if it was because I said he’d be a bad dad or that I’d accused him of leaving me when times got tough. 

“Hmph. Whatever. Not like you'd be a good mother either.” He huffed and left the room before I could argue back. 

A few days had passed since then. I thought he was upset but he seemed normal as ever when I had seen him again so I eventually forgot about the whole conversation. I mean, life as the nurse for a bunch of idiots is very demanding y'know. A gal like me has got a lot on her mind at once. Like.. well..uhh…

Today me and Okita were… hanging out…in my apartment…alone..

Ahem…

The bed creaked under the weight and strain that came from Okita’s hips slapping into my own. He’d always been rough so this was nothing new. I was on my back, my legs wrapped around his waist while his face was buried in my neck, leaving rough bite marks, hickeys, and an occasional tender kiss behind. My nails dug into his shoulders as I held on for support, the pain making him groan. 

How did things end up like this? I’m not entirely sure. It seems like whenever we have time alone together we just jump at the opportunity to get into each other’s pants. To us it feels like this is the best way to truly let each other know how we feel. The passion, the aggression and the sincerity of our touches convey our emotions better than our words could.

My back arched as his cock plunged itself into me, each thrust somehow feeling deeper than the last. I would be embarrassed by the obscene squelching sounds that came after each eager pump of his hips if I didn’t have Okita struggling to hold back his moans by ear, busying his mouth with licking and sucking on the skin of my neck instead. 

Our bodies were coated with a thin layer of sweat as they held onto each other. My hips bucked against his, never having enough of him. 

I gripped his soft hair and tugged him away from my neck, his plump lips already slick with spit before I crashed my lips to his. My tongue shooting into his already parted, panting mouth. He let out a throaty groan and his hips stuttered against mine, overwhelmed with all the sensations. 

Our tongues slid against each other’s aggressively. Even now we fought, trying to make the other submit. The kiss was sloppy and hot, I couldn’t help but moan at the familiar feeling of him dominating my mouth. 

One of his hands slid between us, his thumb rubbing rough circles on my clit to win me over. I gasped and broke from the kiss entirely, legs shuddering as my hips raised to hump against the pressure of his thumb.

“Oh! Sougo I’m gonna-” before I could finish, he pulled out entirely and moved my legs, pushing them against my chest. My legs naturally hung over his shoulders as he once again pushed himself into me, now in a mating press.

The pressure of his weight and the feeling of his cock pushing much deeper into me than before was almost overwhelming. My breath caught in my throat and I couldn’t even moan until he started pounding away.

Once again his hips continued their familiar, desperate pace, chasing after his own high. 

He sneered at the dazed look on my face, “You gonna cum? You should see yourself, honestly it’s embarrassing that you could be this slutty. I should take pictures and post them on the Shinsengumi bulletin board so people can see what you’re really like with me.” He chuckled, his voice slurred from pleasure. All I could do was grasp the sheets and whimper as he wrecked me.

I was so close to cumming and I could tell he was too with how his body shook with excitement. 

Then, Sougo’s eyes darkened, he leaned down so we were face to face. His eyes entirely focused on me and I couldn’t bring myself to look away. He looked me dead in the eyes before asking, “You ready to be a single mother?” 

…What the fuck? 

My eyes widened and face contorted into a look of confusion and disgust and that look was all he needed to push over the edge. He slammed into me one last time and let out an airy moan and his hips shook from how hard he just came. 

I felt his cum shoot into me in bursts, hot and sticky as it was, I stayed frozen in place. Any semblance of an orgasm was long gone for me, it felt like I’d just been splashed with cold water. 

Seriously what the actual fuck?

He lifted his head up with a smug smirk and gave me a sweet kiss on my cheek. 

“YOU’RE SO FUCKING IRRITATING!” I kicked him off the bed.

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

okay so I thought of this after seeing this screenshot

I havent actually read the fic but I was going though old pics on my phone and seen it and since I'm now Okita obsessed I decided to write this lol

[muirmarie]

i am, unfortunately, deep in another of my "wow I am so [i don't really want to expose my psyche to the internet so let's just say: some bad brain thoughts about myself], and people are just pretending to like me to be nice" phases, and the worst - TRULY the worst thing about this - is that I know it's not true!!!!

[cut for my ramblings, you do NOT need to read them I just need to Put Them Somewhere so they're not In Here, With Me lolllll]

I am FULLY AWARE, in a logical, rational way, that no one is going to take the time to PRETEND to like me to be NICE. Like if we were at my best friend's wedding then sure, that would be one thing, we all fake it at times, but no one is faking it for LIFE lmaoooo?????

I'm aware of that!!! And yet the knowing it still, somehow, does not diminish that gross, desperate little ball in the pit of my stomach???? how does knowing not diminish it. why are human brains like this. i know i am wrong and yet clearly some idiotic part of my subconscious refuses to believe me. what am i supposed to even do with that, besides just like. pretend to ignore it.

i mean i'll just keep pretending to ignore it, i know this too will pass, it's just.

why on earth is the knowing it not enough, that's what i wanna know.

i just want to throw this out somewhere so it's out of my head, i don't need reassurance because i know it's just, y'know. i am aware of what's happening, and as absurd as it is, reassurance i think would genuinely cause an even more absurd "now i'm forcing them to reassure me because i am so [insert unpleasant things] and they feel obligated to be nice" lmao (<- yes, yes i know. I truly do know!!!!)

anyway. ugh.

brought to you by the same brain that routinely does "what if i'm trying to be a nice person because i am secretly a horrible, evil person who's just pretending to want to be nice for selfish, awful reasons" routine, so, y'know. BRAINS, Y'ALL.