#tw: sabotaged birth control

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

"Baba!"

Danny smiled as he toweled his hair dry. He loved hearing his little one yell from the living room of his-now thier- lair.

The circumstances of his conception were irrelevant. He loved his kiddo very much, hence the abundance of photo albums and home videos chalked full of his kid doing random stuff. The one with him in his high chair stuffing cheerios into his mouth is his favorite solely for the fact it caught him trying to stuff them up his nose a few times. Definitely something to show future dates when he's older.

His smile fell when he heard anothers voice. No one should have access to his lair. They were in the Infinite Realms for stars sake.

Rushing out of the bathroom in only his sweatpants he charged into the living room to find it filled with capes. More specifically different (largely in costume) versions of Tim Drake. Uh oh.

How did this happen?

"Baba!" He looked down at thier child who was smiling up at him from the arms of one of the younger Tims, showing off his brand new baby fang and bloody hand. Danny rushed into the kitchen to get some alcohol pads and some bravery badges, walking past the summoning circle he had on his wall and taking note of the tiny bloody handprints near the bottom of it.

Crap. That was meant to summon friends and family into the lair. His little star must have tried summoning his father.

After bandaging his kid up and kissing the area he smiled and said, "all better!" Which earned him a giggle from the one year old and an odd look from the child still holding him.

"Tim?" The vigilante looked startled, but Danny didn't give him a chance to recover, "How about you take the little one into the living room and wait with the others? I need to make myself decent before I come explain things."

The kid looked skeptical but agreed and left in that direction.

Danny made his way to his room, and after chasing out two teenage birds who somehow snuck past him into there, he finally got dressed and chased more out of his toddlers room before making it to the living room.

Feeling a room full of eyes on him he sighed and conjured more couches from the ectoplasm in his lair, ignoring some startled shouts as he sat down.

There were a lot of different Tims here. Three adults all in gear, one good two evil, about seven teens, three in gear while four in civvies. Two of the civilian ones were the boys he had caught snooping in his room for clues.

Lastly there were three boys, two in gear with one in a civilian outfit.

Thats a total of thirteen (13) Tims.

"Okay, to start off id like to apologize on behalf of my son. We didn't mean to summon any of you."

The Robin holding Danny son chimed in, "How did he summon us?"

"Kiddo is too small to properly pronounce things yet. Hence why his calling you "baba" instead of "papa"."

He ignored the surprised sounds and questions and just let that sink in before adding, "To clarify, no. None of you are actually the father."

Danny waited patiently for them to calm down and ignored more questions, "I was with an alternate version of you who turned out to be evil-ish and wanted to eliminate all superpowers from existence or something, a fact I didn't know at the time."

"Anyway, he purposely sabotaged my birth control to get me pregnant knowing I wouldn't abort. He did this knowing that when his plan started to come to fruition I'd be too far along to stop him. He had a counter to everything, even things we never told him about. I ended up having to sever the connection between this place- the Infinite Realms- and my home dimension, trapping him there with no way for him to get out and leaving me with no way to ever see my friends or family again. Questions?"

There were many.

[sadseungmin]

Hiiiiiii can you write something about reader trying to breakup with phsycotic/yandere Chan 🥺 Only if you can babes❤️

♡ breaking up with a psychotic bang chan ♡

psychotic bang chan x afab reader | dead dove | nsfw (MDNI)

p.s. i hope this is to your liking, anon!

⚠︎ tw: non-consensual elements (i.e. forced breeding), physical violence, threats of murder

✧･ﾟ: psychotic!chan will emotionally manipulate you *✧･ﾟ:*

Chan resorts to intense emotional manipulation, exploiting your insecurities and fears to make you feel guilty and unworthy. He convinces you that no one else could ever love you as he does and that leaving him would be the worst mistake of your life. He recounts every positive moment you two have shared and proclaims these moments cannot be recreated with another. Essentially, you are manipulated into questioning whether ending things with him is the right choice.

"Baby, you're not making sense. After everything we've been through, after all the time I've poured into loving you despite your flaws, why would you want to give up on us—on me? Who else is going to take the time to learn how to love you unconditionally?"

✧･ﾟ: psychotic!chan will physically abuse you *✧･ﾟ:*

Chan uses physical violence to assert his control over you and instill fear. He yanks you close by the hair, roughly wrapping your locks around his fist so tightly that your scalp pulsates for hours afterwards. He also enjoys choking you until you almost pass out, slamming you into walls with a grip around your throat that leave behinds finger-tip shaped bruises. Whenever you're helplessly within his grasp like this, Chan leans in incredibly close and makes it clear with a cold, stern expression that he won't tolerate any of your attempts to leave. The violence is terrifying, but Chan deems it necessary to keep from losing you.

"I'm trying to be patient with you, baby, because I love you to fucking pieces, but you're being so damn difficult. Every time you try to leave me, it brings me closer and closer to snuffing your life out, because if I can't have you in this life, I damn sure will in the next. Don't make me go there, baby. No more talk of leaving, yeah?"

✧･ﾟ: psychotic!chan will forcibly breed you *✧･ﾟ:*

Chan is desperate to bind you to him for the rest of your lives. He believes that having a child together will ensure you can never leave him. He sabotages your birth control by replacing your contraceptive medication with disguised sleeping pills. Several times a week, you wake up to Chan thrusting wildly inside of you, whispering potential baby names with each forceful, animalistic thrust. And when he paints the inside of your womb white, he whispers to you how pretty you'll be as a mother and how excited he is to watch your tummy grow from his seed. All you can do is lay there, feeling full and hot inside, tears beading in the corner of your eyes as you realize you don't remember the last time you had a period.

"Oh, shi—Gonna fuck a daycare into you, y/n! Gonna keep you plump and round and full. You'll make such a perfect mommy, baby! You'd never abandon me then, right? How could you when we'd have Tzu...Yeong...Byeol...Eun...Iseul...Wonsi—"

[midcenturypartum]

what happened with evinrude’s other partners? how did he and Miriam get to know each other? Thank you for the wonderful art.

Thank you for the interest and kind words! sorry for the late reply haha I ended up with a long answer dumping quite a bit of lore and got a bit sheepish. Initially I didn’t have plans to pair them with each other, it’s just one of those cases when you have two characters and are like hmm what if?

To start Evinrude and Mariam met because Mariam is a doula! she was originally a masseuse who began training due to the compassion she felt for pregnant clients, and a desire to provide them with care beyond prenatal massage, particularly those who struggle finding someone who will advocate for their reproductive rights.

She has no medical training of course, but she’s excellent at providing new parents with platonic love and support and often sticks with them for 2 weeks postpartum. Evinrude was her client for his first 4 children.

more about Evinrude's past partners under the cut but tw for death and reproductive abuse

Evinrude’s children have 3 different non-gestational parents. He was in a throuple with 2 loving spouses for most of his 20s. When they were ready to have children Anita was born, conceived with Gail, then Henry, Eleanor, and Theo, conceived with Thomasin. They worked and met at a textile & shoe manufacturer owned by Gail’s parents, where Evinrude learned his trade, and they had a collective goal of opening a small independent tailor & shoemaker workshop, despite Gail’s parents often interfering out of their desire to pass their business to him.

Gail and Thomasin are passed. They died due to a fire that broke out at the factory, caught up in rapid flames that spread through the highly flammable fabrics they worked with. Evinrude, primarily working with high flashpoint materials common in shoemaking, managed to get out in time.

Gail’s parents never approved of their only son’s queer-poly relationship, and not having any more heirs after his passing went after Anita, trying pretty ruthlessly to paint Evinrude as an “unfit parent incapable of providing for 4 children on his own.” This ordeal lasted for 2 years, and when the stress and instability started to affect his kids Evinrude was officially at his lowest. He became distant from everyone he knew when Gail and Thomasin were alive, including Mariam, and jumped too quickly into a new relationship with his attorney Oleander.

His initial attraction was due to the lawyer’s commitment to the case, as Oleander managed to bankrupt Anita’s grandparents with countersuits by not only Evinrude but several employees/families effected by the fire, with evidence that the disaster was preventable, forcing them to drop the custody suit.

Their attraction to each other was very strong during the case and they got married on a whim, but cracks began to show quickly. They were very different people with irreconcilable differences and did not get along. However Oleander, while indifferent, was at the very least not ugly to Evinrude’s kids so he stayed for the stability it brought to their lives. Violet and Carol were conceived with Oleander.

He had zero plans to have children with Oleander and had been very explicit with him about this before they married, so Violet was his first surprise/unplanned pregnancy. However, her birth helped ease some of the tension in their relationship, and things looked very hopeful.

When the novelty of a new baby seemed to wear off of Oleander, they both agreed (i.e. he convinced Evinrude) to have another under the false implications it would “fix” the marriage again, but their arguments merely escalated.

It was during one of these arguments that it’s revealed Violet’s conception was not an accident, and that Oleander had sabotaged Evinrude’s birth control. Evinrude began making plans to leave.

Since the ordeal with Anita the fear of his children being taken from him was and is always on his mind, so the day he left he had Oleander sign a document relinquishing parental rights to Violet and soon-to-be Carol, blackmailing him with information that Oleander had been embezzling money from his clients for years.

Evinrude is very proud, and struggles to ask for help. He reconnected with Mariam mostly to apologize for becoming distant with her. Mariam, thankfully, is an emotionally intelligent person, informing him that she was expecting a baby of her own and making him a deal where they help and support each other as single parents. Him and his kids ended up never leaving.

i hope to flesh them and their relationship out more as i continue to entertain them as a couple, i'm leaning towards something more queer-platonic as Mariam was originally created as a way to explore an ace/aroace person who chooses to have a baby. if you made it this far thank you for reading ;o;

[hush-writes-preg]

Oh what I wouldn’t give to be your wife and business partner, helping you with our company while growing your babies. One day my water breaks at work, right as our shareholders are arriving for an extremely important meeting. You tell them to wait a moment before pulling me into the bathroom and gruffly telling me to hold it, that this meeting’s too important and our babies will just have to wait. As we give them a tour of our offices, my waddle gets wider, and every now and then you can catch a glimpse of a large head straining against my panties under my short skirt.

TW: Birth, birth denial (behind cut)

I can't believe that you'd be so irresponsible as to go into labor right before the big meeting. 

We've known about this appointment for months.  It could make or break our company.  You've been such a fantastic, helpful partner in the business up until this point-- so why the hell would you try to sabotage it now?

So yeah, I told you to hold 'em in.  Don't give me any of that nonsense about labor not being something you can control; the doctor told us that you could take over 12 hours to give birth to our twins, and your water just broke.  Just don't push for the next couple of hours and we'll be fine.

You're a gorgeous woman despite being so massive, so thankfully the shareholders are too busy staring at your tits to notice your discomfort, and I want it to stay that way.  Your pregnancy has been kind to your breasts, and they're straining against the fabric of your blouse and even threatening to pop one of the buttons.   It's a good distraction from the odd way you're waddling around, like your gait is opening up. 

I wrap an arm around your waist and lean in as if to whisper some sweet nothing in your ear, but instead I hiss a sharp rebuke.  "Don't you dare push."

By the time the meeting is drawing to a close, I'm all too aware of how you've decided to disregard my words.  Your face is flushed, your breath coming in sharp pants, and you clutch at your oversized belly with every contraction.  Your skirt already leaves little to the imagination, and the occasional glance between your thighs reveals a telltale bulge of what can only be our first baby's head filling your panties.  

I'm irritated, but you probably imagine that relief is on the horizon when one of the shareholders cuts off my attempted goodbyes with a casual wave of his hand.  "Actually," he said with a pleasant smile, "I was hoping that we could sit down and discuss the terms of your proposal now, rather than dragging the whole process out a few more weeks.   Time is money in this business, you realize."

"Of course," I responded, sliding a hand down along your bottom and between your legs.  I can feel you stiffen as my fingers cup the baby's emerging head and subtly begin to push it back inside of you.  "I'd love to work out the details today.  Why don't you join me in my office while my wife prepares us some coffee?"

You bite down on a pained whine and paste a friendly smile on your lips before nodding, just as I knew you would.  Good girl. 

[ninelivesastrology]

tw: child abuse, child torture

Growing up with a controlling, vindictive, envious, compulsive lying, doctor-adverse, thief of a parent who projected everything onto me and wouldn't allow me to be myself without attacking, sabotaging or humiliating me has just made me a rigid person in all of my relationships.

I do so much work every day to make sure I'm smiling, laughing, dancing or singing around my child because all I have is memories of this woman making her misery and failed relationship my company, my problem and she was not even my birth mother. So many female parents victim-blame the children in their care, seeing them as sexual competition.

All I could remember is how I couldn't wait to get away and how I jumped ship as soon as I could see the homicidal thoughts in her eyes once she got a new boyfriend who was a registered sex offender, her type. I ended up right, but the vindication of her mask slipping isn't always enough considering everyone hid it from me which just makes me believe they knew she was unfit all along and didn't care about me. When you're nobody's kid, that's the story.

I never want my child to feel how I felt. So I laugh, I smile, I dance, I sing my heart out for all the times I never got to. I try to find something to be happy about every day. I work on my coping mechanisms. Try to keep the 12 steps of Nar-Anon in mind so I'm not harming my child over what my Q did. I've been through a lot of shit, but that's not my kid's problem. It's a deliberate choice to make it their problem.

[berkeliums]

Shotgun Wedding 🌸 (part 1?)

Kakashi x Reader

tw: implied birth control sabotage, implied manipulation, implied baby trap, mention of abortion

Notes: I’m a sucker for Shinto weddings, so sorry for any terminology that you don’t know. Warnings are very subtle and can honestly be ignored.

You paced, smoothing the fabric of your shiromuku, the white silk cooling your shaking hands. You stopped in front of the floor-length mirror, hand resting on your flat stomach. You turned from side to side, examining your figure for even a hint of a bump. You were only six weeks along, incredibly early, but you fretted anyway; Kakashi had arranged the wedding as soon as you’d breathed word of your pregnancy to him.

What Kakashi and you had was casual. You’d been under his command in ANBU, but he’d kept things strictly professional until his discharge. After that, well—the two of you were quickly reacquainted as fuck buddies, even beginning a tentative friendship. That casual nature was what made your routine physical so earth-shattering: a standard ANBU health checkup returning a positive pregnancy test. You cursed yourself for your carelessness. You did your best to take your birth control on time every day, but the bottle had been getting lost recently and the condom had broken inside of you. You’d bitten your lips raw considering what you were going to do, but you knew you had to tell him.

You’d expected him to be upset, to demand you abort the little life sprouting inside you, but he surprised you by taking your hands and vowing to take responsibility. You’d wept then, both relieved that you wouldn’t have to terminate and terrified for the future. Kakashi had held you with more care than you’d thought him capable of, murmuring promises to you while you cried.

It was almost suspicious, how quickly things moved after your confession. Before you knew it, you were being fitted for your bridal ensemble. You’d protested, asking for a quick ceremony in front of the Hokage instead, but Kakashi just shook his head.

“My father told me that when I was to get married, I was to do it properly. I won’t disrespect that,” he’d said, holding your hands between his. He brushed a lock of hair behind your ear and nudged you into your bridal fitting as he did the same, standing proud as the seamstress adjusted his father’s montsuki haori hakama.

Now here you were, two weeks later, in the spare bedroom of your future home, waiting for Kurenai to come back with your wataboshi, the last piece of your ceremony attire. You wouldn’t have it put on until you stepped outside, but you waited anyway. She slipped into the room and you dropped your hand from your stomach. You smiled weakly at her, and she giggled.

“Nervous?” She asked, sitting you in a chair to preen your hair and makeup, like a mother bird aligning stray feathers.

“Very,” you breathed back, watching in the mirror as she worked, your eyes darting to the headpiece on the bed.

“We were all surprised, you know, finding out you and Kakashi were together. We never thought either of you would settle down,” she said, applying the finishing touches to your lipstick. You felt sick—was it anxiety or morning sickness?

“Well, things change,” you replied limply. She just smiled and touched your cheek, seemingly charmed by your nerves. She was the closest thing you had to family, and you loved her. Omitting the truth felt terrible, but you weren’t ready to tell her the real reason for your sudden marriage yet.

“You’re ready,” she said, meeting your eyes and grinning. You swallowed and did your best to smile back, taking her hand as you stood. Once standing, she grabbed the wataboshi and rushed to get the door for you. You followed dutifully, stomach in knots, as she lead you outside.

It was a perfect April day, it couldn’t have been better if it’d been planned: sunny and perfectly warm. Konoha’s cherry blossom trees were in perfect bloom, petals occasionally drifting down on a cooling breeze.

The Hatake compound had a meditative peace to it that did a surprising amount to calm your pounding heart. You breathed deeply. You were going to be fine. Yes, you were pregnant and getting married, but that was okay. You knew Kakashi. He was an honest man and had a sense of honor. You trusted him with your life time after time in ANBU, you could trust him now.

Kurenai took this time to affix the headpiece to your hair, positioning it just right. She blinked back some tears of her own, eyes shining as she took you in.

“This way,” she said, turning and pulling you deeper onto the property, towards the family shrine, “everyone is ready. Kakashi’s been hanging on tenterhooks, waiting for you.”

You felt your nerves finally dissipate, and you let out an unladylike snort, “He’s been anxious, waiting for me? I’m surprised he’s not late himself—he can squirm for a minute.” You and Kurenai shared a girlish giggle, and you smiled brightly—a real, happy smile, as your eyes fell on your wedding party who waited to begin the procession.

Kakashi was there in all his handsome glory and you felt butterflies when you looked at him. He cleaned up nicely, standing tall in his haori, his father’s montsuki adorned with the Hatake crest. His eyes—uncovered sharingan swirling with all three tomoes—locked on yours when he saw you, and you swear you saw something soften there. You vaguely registered Asuma greeting Kurenai with a playful bow and Guy slapping Kakashi on the back as he stepped forward to take your hand.

“Beautiful,” Kakashi murmured, and you felt yourself flush red. You stammered a compliment back and he grinned, lips bending upward underneath his mask. Before you could say anything else, a sharp “ahem” drew your attention and you turned to see Tsunade tapping her foot on the stone floor, eying your fiancé.

“Let’s get this show on the road, I don’t have all day and the reception sake is calling my name,” the Hokage stated with contradictory gentleness, beginning the proceedings, guiding your party through the ritual hand washing that preceded the approach to the shrine itself. Kakashi squeezed your hand once more before turning to give Tsunade his full attention, and you did the same.

‘Here goes,’ you thought. Nothing would be the same after this.

[raven-m-3]

LIES. @kumatan0720​ is very articulate, nonny!! 🥰 This isn’t MTM canon, but in this AU of the AU, I imagine that the first 24 hours went like this for Draco: 

Hour 1: Stare off into space

Hour 2: Rationalize about how it will be fine. Just fine, really. A walk in the park. 

Hour 3: Get sloshed; rant about faulty birth control potions

Hour 4: Unsuccessful attempt to seduce Hermione

Hours 5-12: Pass out and drool copiously on the pillow

Hours 12-14: Shower, brew a hangover potion, feed Leo and Lyra, call out of work, make Hermione an apology breakfast

Hours 14-22: Arrange for Scorpius to come home from Hogwarts for dinner that night so he can hear the news in person, knock out several walls in a spare room for a future nursery 

Hours 22-22.5: Successfully seduce Hermione 

Hours 22.5-23: Mediate a fight between Leo and Lyra and force Lyra to share her toys with her little brother if he’s asking nicely 

Hours 23-24: Eat dinner and share the news, try not to laugh as Lyra and Scorpius get into a screaming match about the baby’s name and sex (Lyra is right-- it’s a girl) 

what if they had another surprise baby like leo?

"In Meet the Malfoys, they only have three babies. BUT. Hypothetically speaking, if Hermione accidentally got pregnant with Baby #4, I think Draco would need to sit down on a fainting couch for a while after she told him the news. He would probably be totally silent for a few minutes, doing mental math about how many more years they were going to be parents with young kids. But then he would remember and get excited about Hermione's pregnancy boobs. Which would earn him a smack and eye rolling from Hermione.” ( @raven-maiden )

I encourage you to go to Raven when it comes to Meet The Malfoys headcanons 🤣 I am not articulate enough to do any writing honestly

[oyasuminto]

link content/tw: baby trapping, birth control sabotage, mention of abortion, somnophilia, rape, impreg, breeding

It’s always been a little hc of mine that Robin’s red flag is that he’s secretly a manipulative lil bastard who just wants PC to only love him and this…this Reddit GWA audio is creepily similar to how I’d think Robin would eventually baby trap PC if DoL gives him a bad ending. It’s more of a monologue than a roleplay but the way this guy sounds like he’s recording a confession before getting arrested or absconding to a new country with his kidnapped girlfriend to start his dream family just ties together the hidden unhingeness and it just…does something to me. This scenario could easily also apply to another LI (cough cough Kylar cough) but Robin specifically? Unlocked forbidden feelings in me. Honestly fucking wild that as I was listening to this all I was thinking was “Robin? Dark Robin? Yandere Robin???”

-👁👄👁

[phoebosacerales]

What houses and planets represent / indicate addictions in a chart? (drugs, gambling or any other unhealthy addiction)

Hmm, TW, I guess. Easy answer is 12th house. But this could show through a lot of connections.

The 12th is called Malas Daimon, or Bad Spirit. It's the house of your undoing, you lose control of body and spirit, that's why it's associated with slavery as well. In some aspects it makes me think of the Devil card in tarot, if you're familiar with it's meanings.

The motion of the planets in the chart/sky go counterclockwise through the zodiac, but there's also the daily motion of the sky, which now we know it's about the Earth rotating on it's own axis, that makes the planets seem to move clockwise everyday.

Since the 1st is where everything rises, it's about spirit risen into matter, the ascendant is symbolic of body and spirit, that's why it represents the person in a birth chart. When the Sun rises, it's in a position of strength on the ascendant, but some hours later it will rise more and get to the 12th. The Sun is moving through the zodiac, but the daily motion of the sky goes a lot faster the other way, so it's carrying him to the 12th house. Symbolically this shows a loss of energy and power. It feels like losing control of mind and body. The ascendant was called the "helm", it's like the steering wheel of the chart. A planet in the 12th has just lost the handle.

This is a great video demonstrating exactly what I'm saying.

Think of how humans lose control of themselves and of their lives and you will see a lot of things that are not their fault: discrimination, marginalisation, poverty, opression, slavery etc. The 12th covers all of those topics. But some types of loss of control are at least a little bit our own fault, that's why we see the 12th as "self-undoing", "self sabotage". I know addiction is a sickness and a lot of the times caused by enormous stress, due to life conditions that are not our own fault. But I just mean it's not like slavery for example, it's not about something or someone else taking control of you. Anyway, the 12th is about all kinds of prisons.

The 12th is Saturn's joy and it gets some of it's meanings. Saturn is so vast and rich in it's significations, but most of the time we see in the 12th it's most malefic connotations.

Saturn and the 12th are commonly associated with Pan, the god of panic, who looks like a faun or a satyr. He's an outcast, god of the wild. He's the chills you get when you're alone in a dark place in the woods. But he's also a very uncontrollably dionysian character. He reminds me of the feeling of having an addiction.

Saturn is extremely cold and dry, its nature is malefic because of how extreme it is. Cold and dry is the melancholic temperament. It brings things down to a cold earth, it's about extreme retention and gravity. It's about the body slowing down and being limited because of gravity and time, which ages and kills us. Whatever puts you down is Saturn, whatever brings you faster to death is Saturn. Sometimes Saturn is addiction because it's enslaving you more to the limits of your bodily existence and that gets you closer to your death. But planets can show different kinds of addiction or drugs.

The ruler of the 12th could show what type of addiction, I believe, but there could be a planet from inside the 12th representing that and all kinds of conections. A ruler of the 5th in the 12th for example or vice versa could read as an addiction to pleasure. And remmember, we all have a 12th house, we're all a little bit addicted to something, we all have a bad habit.

I think drugs in general are a Mars thing. Especially because Scorpio, who rules venoms, toxic substances etc is ruled by Mars. Mars is "the active principle".

Though Venus might rule dopamine, so, nicotine, weed, food, playing games, gambling, sex. And also, if you go by the chaldean order through the houses, relating Saturn to the 1st, Jupiter to the 2nd, Mars to the 3rd... then Venus is counted in the 12th. Some say that means she might have a relationship to it. I don't know if I believe that association though.

Et cetera...

One last thing is that the Lot of Daimon/Spirit and its sign show what kind of illnesses you may have, according to Vettius Valens. This includes mental/spiritual struggle. Both mental and physical damages were believed to be caused by "evil daimons", (which is not at all like a christian demon) and Dorian Greenbaum talks about how that may be why Valens says the Lot of Daimon shows them, in her book "The Daimon in Hellenistic Astrology".

[thaliaxpetrova]

Welcome student [#13] who happens to be a [PRIVATE COLLEGE STUDENT]. Around campus you have been told you look a lot like [LUCA HOLLESTELLE].  We hear that your name is [THALIA PETROVA] and that you are [21] years old. We hear that you can be [SPONTANEOUS] but also [IMPULSIVE]. Lately you have been saying [PUPPET BY FAOUZIA] relates to you a lot in life, and that [3AM INSPIRATION AND COFFEE STAINS] are your most common muse. We heard you decide to major in [ANIMATION] at North Chancellor and we can’t wait to welcome you.

MUSINGS || CONNECTIONS || PLAYLIST(S)

GENERAL STATS:

NAME: Thalia Petrova AGE: Twenty - One GENDER: Cis Female PRONOUNS: She/Her HEIGHT:  5′7

HEALTH

PSYCHOLOGICAL: ( undiagnosed ) Borderline Personality Disorder PHYSICAL: None SMOKE: Sometimes DRUGS: Sometimes ALCOHOL: Frequent

PERSONALITY:

POSITIVE TRAITS: Spontaneous, resilient, assertive NEGATIVE TRAITS: Impulsive, guarded, stubborn MBTI: ENTP-A ENNEAGRAM: 7w8 TEMPERAMENT: sanguine

FAVORITES:

MUSICAL GENRE(S): Indie pop, pop, alt rock MUSICAL ARTIST(S): Faouzia, Hayley Williams, Lorde, KWAYE, Joji, PVRIS, The Weeknd, Nothing But Thieves, Fall Out Boy, All Time Low, CHVRCHES, The 1975

BIO: ( TW: abandonment, drugs, addiction, abuse )

( Full bio linked here )

sparknotes version:

- grew up in the foster care system, bounced from house to house

- repeatedly being tossed around really messed with her self worth and sense of self in general

- developed lots of defense mechanisms, most of which unhealthy.

- She falls back on self sabotaging quite a bit, essentially ruining anything good for herself before it’s ripped away from her. at least here, it’s “in her control” rather than feeling like her world could be ripped from underneath her at any second

- when she was thirteen, she was placed with the Petrova’s, who actually showed her the compassion and care that she so desperately needed and longed for. she tested them a lot since she felt like it was too good to be true.

- slowly but surely she let them in, but in a two steps forward one step back kind of way. when she was 14, they officially adopted her

- fast forward a bit, and YIKES her birth father found her and reached out to her! as one could imagine, this sparked a lot of overwhelming emotions in Thalia, anger being a very predominant one... but curiosity won, and she agreed to talk with him.

- he said all the right things and gained her trust within a few minutes... but every other time they spoke, he wanted money.

- eventually she literally had nothing left to give him, which was when he suggested taking something from her adoptive parents since they were so well off financially.

- This is when Thalia drew the line, but he just broke in their house and took what any valuable looking thing he could

PRESENT / MISC

- thalia is VERY private, and likely will not speak about her childhood at all. if she had her way, no one would know she was even adopted, and that she just always was able to live in a life of luxory.

- she really doesn’t care who’s a private school student and who isn’t, but she may act like she does just to cover her tracks

- She’ll make acquaintances with just about anyone, but it takes a lot for her to consider you a genuine friend. She definitely has quite a few trust issues

- if you’re friends with her, expect lots of random texts, especially in the middle of the night

- is always up for an adventure, this girl will do anything to keep herself from being trapped in her own head

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

- confidant -- someone thalia actually TRUSTS ( a bizarre concept, I know ) this could develop overtime, or we can plot out how these two became close.

- Tutor/study buddies -- essentially someone to keep thalia on track academically

- Bad influence -- where they just kinda enable each other and feed off of their bad habits

- Good Influence -- opposite of above

- art buddies -- someone to keep her company as they work on projects until 3am

- ex’s -- ex friends or ex romantic partners ! both can make for glorious angst

that’s about all I got for now, but I’m open to just about anything!!

[albass]

( ana de armas.  she/her.  cis-woman.  28. )  introducing … ALBA SALINAS ! i heard they’re a sensitive, resilient, self-conscious, bisexual, pisces, and persuaded their partner to join WILL THEY OR WON’T THEY due to her constant need to sabotage their relationship because of her own insecurities. their partner, has accepted to join the cast of WILL THEY OR WON’T THEY, because they believe their relationship needs help. but ALBA ? they think their relationship WON’T make it. 

01. STATS

NAME: alba catalina salinas ibañez

GENDER: cis woman

PLACE OF BIRTH: havana, cuba

HOMETOWN: malaga, spain

DATE OF BIRTH: february 20th, 1994

AGE: twenty-eight

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual

PERSONALITY TYPE: INFP

02. INFORMATION

alba was born in havana, cuba. the daughter of a spanish diplomat and a cuban woman.

death tw: her father passed away when alba was just a bit over a year old and thanks to her marriage to a spaniard diplomat, her mother was able to leave cuba and move to spain with her daughter.

once in spain, her mother pretty much abandoned alba and spent most of her life traveling with the inheritance her husband left them while alba was left under the guardianship of her paternal aunt.

the salinas were wealthy and known in spain. her aunt was a very pragmatic woman and while she loved alba, she also could be very strict and tactless.

alba grew up very lonely. her mother would visit her once in a while only to comply with the rules of the inheritance which stated she had to spend time with her daughter. 

bullying tw: she was a very reserved child, and she was bullied because of a stutter she developed. her confidence was nowhere to be seen and it didn’t help that she was always compared to her mother who was a beauty of her own and alba simply felt as if she was not as beautiful or good as her mother. she believed this was the reason why she didn’t love her.

beauty and perfection were attributes gifted only to her mother, and so, a desire for acceptance took a hold of her. at 18, she visited cannes for the summer to be with her mom. 

the was a bird let out of the cage, and after that first rush of freedom, she realized she didn’t want to return to the nest. the two months at Cannes turned into three and then four. 

for the following years, alba spent the next years spending her trust fund in lavish parties, dating people that treated her like shit and she was surrounded by a bunch of fake friends. however, it was all worth it because for once she had the acceptance she longed for.

it wasn’t until she turned twenty-five and her aunt passed away that she got a waking call and realized how shallow and wasteful her life had become. 

she left that life and moved to mallorca where she settled at one of the family’s homes. she started doing what she loved the most which was painting and began to get involved into the art business, opening her own art gallery.

it was in mallorca where she met callie while she was on vacations. it all happened fast but one thing led to another and soon callie was moving to mallorca to be with her.

it was her own insecurity and abandonment issues that cause a strain in their relationship and she is still not sure what made her think joining this reality is gonna do for them. 

03. PERSONALITY

alba is a dreamer by nature, she enjoys daydreaming and making up stories and conversations in her head. she is very sensible, and she has strong emotional responses to music, art, nature, and the people she interacts with. however, she also keeps a lot of things to herself, especially her insecurities. she longs for deep connections but she is also scared of getting attached and then being left or feeling smothered. she’s extremely empathetic, which often causes her to feel overwhelm with things that are out of her control or are not even her problem. 

[greatresponsibilitya2]

PETER PARKER + STATS  // aka my pete is a mess of headcanons welcome

(tw death, murder, mental illness)

basic information

full name: peter benjamin parker

nickname(s): pete, spidey

age: twenty-four

date of birth: october 14

hometown: queens , new york , usa

current location: either manhattan or queens idk dude this boy hasn’t had a stable address in a minute (but still new york always new york)

ethnicity: white

nationality: american

gender: cis male

pronouns: he/him

orientation: bisexual, Slut TM

religion: jewish, somewhere in the largely secular reform/reconstructionist vein (had a bar mitzvah, celebrates the major holidays, not much else)

political affiliation: peter parker voted for bernie sanders change my mind (democrat, views voting as a flawed by necessary responsibility bc unfortunately he cannot punch his way into systemic change)

occupation: um. working on it. former lab assistant. current full-time vigilante, part-time pizza delivery.

living arrangements: currently crashing with aunt may. also working on it.

language(s) spoken: english, some spanish, mandarin, and yiddish

accent: american, with a slight new york inflection. it’s stronger in the suit or when he’s very stressed (which is mostly in the suit, and also just a lot of the time tbh)

physical appearance

face claim: charlie rowe

hair colour: brown (a little curly, badly in need of a haircut)

eye colour: brown (like a light hazely brown)

height: 5′10″

tattoos: none

piercings: one tiny stud ear piercing that he got with miles as a bonding activity because i’m really committed to this bit and he’s been on the cusp of a breakdown awhile

clothing style: lol. baggy sweatshirts, worn-in flannels, graphic t-shirts, jeans, battered converse. right at that intersection between respectably disheveled nerd and skater boy grunge. he wears his suit underneath his everyday clothes most of the time

usual expression: intense concentration

distinguishing characteristics: his webshooters, which he’s modified to look something like a watch or a fitbit and can wear with his everyday clothes

health

physical ailments: genetically mutated spider dna?

neurological conditions: all undiagnosed bc this bitch won’t see a therapist but! anxiety, depression, ptsd, adhd

allergies: none he knows of

sleeping habits: hahahahahahahaha

eating habits: his metabolism is absurdly fast, his exercise regimen out of control, and his wallet can’t keep up. he doesn’t have the time, resources, energy, or skills to cook for himself often (though he can do a decent stir fry), so he mostly gets by on inexpensive takeout. he’s particularly fond of pizza and thai food

exercise habits: mostly just patrol/spider-man duties/swinging around the city with nothing but his own upper body & core strength; he’ll sometimes work out to stay in shape and burn energy

emotional stability: no.

sociability: he has friends, but he’s always considered himself a loner. he’s better at making plans than keeping them, and has an advanced degree at self-sabotaging relationships. he’s good for a movie night, but if he starts to feel threatened, the walls go up, and the bridges get burned

body temperature: warmer than average

addictions: arguably, being spider-man

drug use: nothing really? may partake a little with ned sometimes

alcohol use: not obsessive, but he’ll drink socially or kick back a beer after a long day/night

personality

archetype: the caregiver

positive traits: loyal, brilliant, just, passionate

negative traits: stubborn, egotistical, guilt-ridden, insecure

goals/desires: help people. find peace. do some neat science. have a life.

fears: people he loves getting hurt. bad things happening because he didn’t stop them. bad things happening because he caused them. dying young.

hobbies: ~ science ~ ; video games ; skateboarding ; photography

habits: u know that thing of just being really fidgety all the time & drumming your fingers on every available surface & jittering your leg up and down? yeah that

favourites

weather: the way i’m tempted to say broody and rainy. no. like a nice crisp autumn day with a little bit of a breeze and a nice amount of sun and pretty leaves

colour: red

music: alt- and indie-rock, mostly; he also listened to a lot of 70s and 80s music with ben and still enjoys it

movies: schlocky sci-fi and fantasy (he’s big fan of zombieland, star wars, and lotr)

sport: baseball

beverage: cheap black burnt coffee

food: aunt may’s wheat cakes <3 and a good bagel with schmear

animal: he is.... not actually..... really much of an animal person..... but he will cross the street to pet a good dog and enjoys other people’s cats

family

father: richard parker, deceased

mother: mary parker, deceased

uncle: ben parker, deceased (fc tom hanks until proven otherwise)

aunt: may parker (fc marisa tomei)

sibling(s):  none that he knows of

children: none

pet(s): none

family’s financial status: working- / lower-middle-class. scraping by, but decidedly not in luxury, particularly after ben’s death and peter’s student loans

extra

zodiac sign: libra

what’s in his edc ( everyday carry ): inside the same battered and lovingly patched-up navy jansport he’s had since his senior year of high school: headphones (tangled), cell phone (broken), laptop (cracked), chargers, pack of gum (half-empty), clif bar, spare web cartridges, lab notebook, cheap ball point pen, old pencils, wallet (empty), metrocard, change of clothes, water bottle (half-empty, crumpled, disposable, lukewarm), house keys & carabiner

mbti: infp

enneagram: type 5, the investigator

temperament: melancholic

hogwarts house: gryffindor

moral alignment: neutral good

element: air

[thatferalwitch]

Discarnate Possession 101:

A practical master guide by someone who unwillingly experienced it and studied the phenomenon in an academic context

Disclaimer: this isn't meant to scare, nor victim-blame, nor criticise some practices, but rather to promote understanding on the phemonon based on personal experience.This isn't substitute for professional help or medical assessment. If you are unwell, please please please seek talk to your doctor or therapist.

[TW: mentions of depression, delusion, s**c*de, abuse, SH, derealization] sorry for the long post lol

About possession:

There are two main types of entities in possession: incarnate and discarnate. Incarnate entities are entities who were once alive and have since passed; human souls, animal souls, etc. Discarnate entities are entities who have never known incarnation, and may or may not have harmful intent; demonics, angelics, deities, etc.

Not all possession is unconsensual.

Many religions, including Caribbean voudon and some Christian churches use possession in their rituals. However I will be focusing on unconsensual, discarnate possession by demonics and other low vibrations entities.

What causes unconsensual possession?

1. Traumatic events and abuse.

In my case, an abusive relationship. Traumatic events such as abuse, sexual assault, witnessing an accident, suicide attempts, incendiary events, terrorist attacks and more are classic scenarios. Trauma and abuse attracts very low vibrations and leaves the victim feeling helpless, lost, fragmented and very vulnerable. There's a shattering of the self and the auric field that enables discarnate entities to attach themselves.

2. Depression, s****dal ideation and SH

Again, negative entities thrive on low vibrations, misery and helplessness. Many people who feel depressed and suicidal wish someone was there to "take their place"- a discarnate might just take you up on the offer.

3. Dabbling in negative or dark energywork unprotected.

Yes, that includes Ouija. If you dabble in Ouija, hexing, demonwork and other low-vibration practices without proper protection, training or boundaries, you run a risk of inviting a discarnate in your personal energy field without realizing it.

4. Severe emotional or work-related burnout

When you've burned out, all your defenses are down. You are vulnerable.

What does it feel like: the possession cycle

The idea of possession is a lot dramatized and exaggerated by horror movies. As you may suspect, it's not an immediate, black-on-white phenomenon, but rather a progressive one that creeps on you in several stages on the span of several months, and is very similar to a severe depressive episode. This is where it gets pretty personal.

Stage 1: Feeling Off

Symptoms: constantly tired or fatigued. Mild but frequent derealization or depersonalization. Too little or too much of an appetite. Potential weight or sleep schedule fluctuation. Feeling numb. Bad dreams.

Stage 2: Kick In The Nuts

Symptoms: in my case, all my ADHD meds started acting up out of the blue. My sight got worse. I lost weight. I started displaying disruptive hand tics. Kick In The Nuts is just whatever keeps you functional and grounded, suddenly crumbles. You try to fix it, but each attempt makes you feel worse. The depersonalization is getting worse. You're starting to slip. Your body is rebelling against you.

Stage 3: Depression/ Free Fall

Symptoms: Feeling like Kick In The Nuts was always meant to happen and you won't get back up. Social isolation. Complete misery, fed day and night by a whisper in the back of your mind. Anxiety attacks. Body dysmorphia. Nightmares. Disengaged from life. Classical symptoms of depression, but somehow worse (I've had depression before, and this objectively felt worse.) Rapid emotional and cognitive decline. Utter hopelessness.

Stage 4: Delusion

Symptoms: the very first Late Stage, and where it starts to get dangerous. You start to associate yourself with a very misguided belief system about yourself as you are slipping into severe delusion. Your life prior to Kick In The Nuts feels like a fuzzy dream. You have obsessive thoughts. Chunks of time start to go missing. That delusion is a trap of control. Possession is the entrapment of the mind and will in controlled illusions, a maze of mirrors. Examples of delusions: you're cursed from birth, all of this was worthless. This is the REAL you. Friendship is a lie. You're useless and better off dead. You are your trauma. You're broken for good. You'll never amount to anything because this the REAL you. Everything else is a lie. Angels and spirit guides and God were all a manmade lies to deceive you. You're doomed. Life is misery. The only way to feel better is [insert self-sabotage]. This is the REAL you.

Stage 5: S****dal Delusion

Symptoms: The belief that based on delusions, that the only way out is to commit suicide. You want to prove you're right. You may form a plan. You don't want help. The next stage is your funeral.

In retrospect

This is the stage where I was intercepted. A family friend who happens to be a professional psychic and energyworker was contacted by my worried mother about me not being myself. He performed an emergency energy clearing and the next morning sent an email to her titled "Fucking hell". He had found and cleared not one, but two thriving demonic discarnates in possession. My mother woke me up to show me how I had been under spiritual possession, and when I read it in bed, I did something really unexpected that I hadn't done in months. I burst out giggling.

Just a good, contagious laugh from the pit of my stomach. A spell had been broken. A huge weight was lifted from my shoulders, and I could laugh again. It took several months of conscious effort, therapy and several clearings to completely shake it off, but my tics disappeared, my meds started working again, I got myself out of my depression, and I successfully lived past the date I had planned to off myself.

Conclusion

Again, this isn't to freak out anyone. My experience was a strong learning one that I wouldn't even wish on Donald Trump. I don't pretend that this is the ultimate, final objective truth. And if you show symptoms of depression, suicidal thoughts, trauma, PTSD, declining physical and mental health, don't be stupid like me, GET HELP.

[yandere-daydreams]

A Yandere!Mirio/Reader piece for the lovely @celestialempress, with a little NSFW and some unfortunate implications towards the end. I really enjoyed this commission, a little too much, actually... but, considering recent episodes, it’s fair to say our favorite Obsessive Boy deserves to get something he wants. 

Word Count: 3.1k

TW: Non-Con/Dub-Con, Breeding Kink, Non-Consensual Aphrodisiacs, Contraceptive Sabotage and Delusial Mindsets. 

You were heroic. Mirio loved that about you.

He adored how passionate you were, how much effort you put into every fight, every battle, every mission you were asked to go on. He was grateful for every night you came home exhausted, collapsing into his arms whenever his shift ended before yours and rambling about the nice kid you saved or the sweet man who sent your agency flowers after you rescued his wife. He admired your spirit, always the one to bet how many bad guys you could take down while you were in the same district and to ignore the negative critics of any newscaster or interviewer who tried to dampen your optimism. Even your quirk, the sickening fitting ability to form foam and bubbles strong enough to withstand the weight of a grown-man, was practically made for saving people. You were his hero, you were perfect. Mirio would never say you weren’t, even if his life depended on your dismissal. He was sure you’d do the same for him, too.

He loved that part of you. He loved every part of you.

He just wished you wouldn’t put yourself in so much danger while you were being so amazing.

It was only a scrape, he reminded himself, albeit a bad one. The paramedics had cleared you, as far as your physical safety was concerned. A henchman and a loose platform had just gotten the better of you during a roof-top fight, and you’d been too busy ensuring the security of innocent civilians to worry about cushioning your own fall. It fit your persona, it fit you, and deep down Mirio knew you’d always do the right thing, even if didn’t line-up with the smart thing. He was just as dedicated, deep down, even if he couldn’t be as showy about it anymore. Even now, you were laughing and joking around with the stone-faced healer wrapping a bandage over your forehead, not letting your dirtied costume and a possible concussion dampen your spirits. You were still giggling as he approached, your smile enough to make his heart skip a beat. Still, Mirio attempted to stay serious, even if his self-restraint was tested by every second spent in your company.

“Hey, little hero,” Mirio called, his grin widening as you perked up at the sound of his voice. The other man was forgotten instantly, left in the background as you leaned forward to hug him, nearly falling off the rear step in your eagerness. He was quick to catch you, attempting to give you a more stable seat without throwing you around like a rag-doll, even when you deserved to be strapped down and kept out of trouble. Until you were considering your own preservation, at least. 

But, he didn’t say that, opting to kiss your forehead and ruffle your hair until you were pushing him away. “Everyone’s talking about you, y’know, the reporters are trying to find today’s favorite heroine.” It wasn’t an exaggeration, he could still hear their voice from behind the police-controlled blockade. You’d be all over the newscasts in a few hours, no doubt. “They don’t seem satisfied with your charming fiancé and his lovable antics.”

“You must mean my annoying boyfriend. I still haven’t gotten a ring.” There was a light punch to his chest, more of a tap than anything, and you pulled him down to your height without a second thought. He didn’t have to be told what to do, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his side, letting you slot yourself against his side with all the familiarity and affection he’d coaxed out of you. Like an old married couple, rather than two Pro-Heroes in the prime of their lives.

Just the thought made Miro hold you a little tighter.

“Is someone trying to tell me that I’m s’posed to get down on one knee sometime soon?” The question was only half teasing, and you seemed to sense that, deflating ever-so-slightly in his arms. You didn’t pull away, but you only lowered your head, slumping forward and resting your elbows on your knees. You always got like that, when he tried to talk about something that might change the future. Mirio was sympathetic, but he couldn’t help but be… frustrated, at your resistance. He reacted instinctually, rubbing soft, deep circles in your back, doing his best to avoid the bruises blooming around your spine. “Babydoll, we don’t have to--”

You interrupted him swiftly, already knowing where this conversation would lead. “It’s just not something I want to talk about, we’ve been over this before. Marriage is just…” You didn’t straighten your back, but your hands moved in an incoherent, nonsensical pattern, like a micro-explosion was pushing them apart. Your quirk activated for emphasis, a tiny, frothy bubble forming between your palms and popping as you moved, leaving suds to soak into your thighs. You didn’t seem to notice, only kicking at the small bits of foam that landed on the ground. “It’s big, y’know? I’m a little scared, to be honest.”

Of course, his girlfriend was scared. He had to be reminded that you could still be timid, every now and then. “All the more reason to dive into it headfirst, right? We’ll be fine as long as we’re doin’ it together.”

“I know that,” You mumbled, your smile taking a turn towards fragile. Not weak, but vulnerable. Delicate. It only strengthened Mirio’s belief that a future with him was what you needed. A big house, a clean-cut lawn, more room than two people could ever need. And yet, it was room two people could fill, if they tried hard enough. He started to drift into his fantasy, but you drew him out of it with a laugh and a nervous scratch at the back of your neck. “You’ll always take care of me, and I appreciate that. But, I like the way we are right now. I don’t want anything to change, and… I don’t know when I’m going to be ready for anything to change.” You sighed, suddenly talking more to yourself than you were to Mirio. “I’m sorry if that isn’t what you want. I’d understand if you thought I moved too slowly, and… I’d understand if you wanted to move on without me.”

He didn’t hesitate, cupping your chin and encouraging you to look at him, moving in as you turned. The kiss was lingering, as sweet as it was drawn-out, and Mirio didn’t pull away when it was over. Rather, he kept you close, his voice muffled by the proximity. “There isn’t anyone else I’d move on with. If we’re gonna wait, we’ll do that together, too.”

You looked like you had a reply, opening your mouth and shifting, but someone called your alias’ name before you spit it out. There was a parting peck to his cheek and a fleeting embrace, but you left him without another word. The conversation would continue later, Mirio would make sure it did, but for now, he was left in silence. Left to think.

You said you didn’t think you were ready, but he knew you were. You were nourishing and tender and motherly, he just hadn’t had a chance to prove that to you yet. Your lives would be perfect, with your reliable husband working as a Hero to keep his family safe, recounting his victories over a dinner you made before sending the kids to bed so you two could have some time to cuddle and relax and talk about your days and be so happy. If you kept taking risks, getting hurt and sacrificing yourself and waiting, that might not happen. You two might not get a chance to be happy together.

And Mirio wasn’t sure what he would do if you two didn’t get to be happy together.

You’d said it yourself, he’d always take care of you. He knew what was best, regardless of how many childish ambitions and hesitations got in the way. You were his Hero, but this time, he would have to be the one to save you. He already had a plan, too.

Even if a few steps would have to come sooner than he thought they would.

~

He was thankful you never tried to hide your pills.

Mirio knew it was a terrible thing to do. It was awful, it felt awful, but the task itself was painfully easy. Your birth-control was always on the bathroom-counter, the disk-shaped container left open and unprotected in the haven of your apartment’s walls. You hadn’t even stirred when he’d gotten out of bed, sleeping so trustingly less than a room away. It helped that your prescription was on its last legs, too, only four tablets left before it’d need to be refilled. You’d probably be so worried about finding time to stop by the pharmacy, you wouldn’t even notice the slight difference in color.

Just throwing them away wouldn’t be enough, you might get suspicious and notice the discarded medicine. Instead, he waited patiently for them to dissolve in the sink, watching diligently as the yellow prophylactics dissolved, like even the smallest bits of residue would be enough to tell you that something was wrong. The sugar pills were slotted into place with an equal amount of focus, each replacement placed in the exact spot of its predecessor, even if he doubted you would notice if they were upside down or at a slightly different angle. He hesitated when it came time to close the lid, something suddenly making him feel off, guilty, wrong.

It would all be for your own good, he knew that. Mirio tried to think of how much you would love having three or four little ones running around, how you’d adore him for finally taking charge, how love the two of you would be once you got married and moved out of the city and started your lives together, rather than getting stuck on the never-ending plateau most Heroes find themselves unable to pass after retirement, but it didn’t seem to help. There was something else. Were you going to regret staying with him? Would you be mad at him for doing the right thing?

Would you hate him, after you realized what’d happened?

The question was discarded as soon as he noticed the real issue. He stopped himself right before the lid could shut, placing the plastic case back into its original spot. You never closed it. You said you had a hard time undoing the child-proof lock, when you were tired. It hurt your fingertips.

Satisfied, Mirio leaned back, admiring his work for a second or two before moving on. He already had a needle on-hand, sewing kits being a necessity in his line-of-work, but repairs weren’t what he had in mind, tonight. After those modifications were made, all he had to do was slip a little special something into your water-bottle, just to ensure that his preparations wouldn’t be in vain.

Right. Everything would be perfect, by tomorrow night. 

All he had to do was wait until then.

~

You didn’t think you’d ever been this warm before.

It was a heat that ran through your veins, making your heart feel like it was beating too fast and your brain all fuzzy, like you were on the tail-end of an all-nighter, one fueled solely by a drink with too much sugar and foods your worst mentors would’ve disapproved of. Water didn’t help, each drop only making your head throb that much more, and you’d nearly passed out during a mid-day patrol. Luckily, it’d been a slow day, villains seeming to notice your distress and rescheduling their evil-doing for a day where you weren’t feeling so shitty. Even with the lack of activity, you were stumbling by the time you got home, your door seeming to sway in front of you as you unlocked it.

You were thankful for how careful Mirio was, you really were, your boyfriend always seeming to remember the little details you forgot. But it was hard to tolerate, sometimes. It felt like there was a dead-bolt on everything when you were this tired.

You collapsed as soon as the door was closed behind you, falling onto the first couch you saw in a sweating, red-faced heap. You don’t know how much time passed, the minutes blending together with the hours, but the footsteps came by the time you’d started panting, your eyes clenched shut and your body crumpled into a fetal position, the display as desperate as it was pathetic. You didn’t hear him approach, but you were being pulled into the air nonetheless, forced to curl into yourself just to stop from writhing.

“I… I think I need a doctor,” You mumbled, your voice coming out as a breathy whisper. You felt your back touch the mattress, but your attempts to sit up only let another wave of flames wash over your skin, burning whatever they touched. “Could you call someone, everything hurts--”

His lips were on yours before you could finish, the kiss passionate and forceful, lacking any of Mirio’s trademark delicacy. Just as suddenly, the heat in your body was shifting, turning into something else, something namable. Medical assistance was shoved into the back of your mind, buried under your craving for anything but separation from his hands. You deepened the kiss willingly, nipping at his jaw as he pulled away, nearly whining when you felt his warmth leave yours. “Do you still want to go to the hospital, sweetheart?”

You thought for a second, but shook your head. “No, I… fuck me, Mirio.”

You were whining from the moment he started touching you, not bothering trying to find the clasps to your skin-tight uniform. Any other day, you would’ve stopped him while the damage was still repairable, but it was all you could do to sit up as he slipped your sports-bra over your head. You expected him to finish the job with as much fervor, and yet, he saw fit to linger as he tugged your panties downward, rubbing over your covered clit with the pad of his thumb. He didn’t try to hide the way he laughed as you bucked against him, chuckling under his breath at the stain every movement took. He didn’t seem reluctant to hold your hips down, though, after deciding you weren’t in the right state to put in that kind of work.

“You’ve never been this hot n’ bothered for me,” He admitted, finally getting rid of the offending fabric. There was no hint of resistance, his fingers sliding into your cunt and scissoring you open with a loud, embarrassingly wet sound, only contrasted by the soft mewl you let out at the slightest of stimulation. “You must want this as much as I do… Bet I don’t even need to prep’ you, either. You just wanna get to the main show, don’t you?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, leaving you to grind against nothing and beg as he reached something out of your view. A drawer opened, a plastic package following in its lead, but the tell-tale ripping of latex was what gave it away, a disappointed sigh leaving Mirio’s mouth when he saw what’d happened. “There’s a-”

“I don’t care!” His sleeve was the only thing close enough for you to grab, but you did so with a vengeance, bringing him down to your level as your free hand sloppily worked at his pants. Too stunned to react, he stared on at your flushed face, but a hitch your breath and something close to a sob snapped him out of his daze. “I jus’... I don’t know… it hurts, please, make it stop!”

You couldn’t be sure when you started, but soon enough, tears were blurring your vision and something was making it hard to breathe. Mirio only cooed, cupping your cheeks briefly before he abandoned the idea of comforting you, instead taking up your thigh in his hands. You could’ve cried as he pressed into you, your knees crushed into your chest by the time he bottomed out. It wasn’t just the pleasure, the way sparks bit at the base of your spine or how your legs fought to clamp together as Mirio began to move, no, the relief alone was incomparable. You reached up lazily, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in the crook of his shoulder, just relishing in how good it all felt, in how pretty his moans were and how deep he was inside you and how much you loved him, how much he loved you.

You were so caught up in it all, you almost didn’t notice it when he started speaking.

Almost.

“I knew you’d come around, I knew it.” He was nearly inaudible, now, voice little more than a mumble. You glanced up at him blearily, but as soon as your lips hard parted, you were caught in another suffocating kiss, the gesture as messy as it was overbearing. If it was possible, his pace sped up, drawing an unabashed moan from your throat. “You’re gonna look so pretty-- such a good mommy. I--” He stopped, his hips stuttering, like whatever he was distracted by whatever was running through his head. “...need to fill you up.”

There was a shove at his shoulders, a push just strong enough to gain his attention. “Mommy… what?”

Before he answered, Mirio wrapped an arm around your waist, nearly lifting you off the bed in an attempt to hold you tighter, to keep you closer. He was primal, by now, knots of soreness already forming in your thighs. You wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow, not comfortably, at least. “Don’t worry, it’s… it’s perfect,” He gasped, but it was in vain, the panic setting in just as quickly as the realization did. “You’re going to be such a good mom.”

It came suddenly, just as you’d began to struggle, your body tensing up and something inside of you snapping before you could stop it. The heat returned in full-force, scalding and smoldering, your mouth opening but no sound coming out and your nails digging into Mirio’s back, leaving bloody gashes in their wake. Mirio couldn’t have lasted much longer, stilling inside of you at his deepest point. Warmth bubbled up in the pit of your stomach, forcing the meekest of whimpers out, his cum filling you up easily and leaking out around his cock, dripping over your thighs in a terribly sobering way.

Clarity struck you fast and it struck you hard, dread pooling in your heart and refusing to lessen. You looked towards Mirio for reassurance, for acknowledgment or any signal that he felt the same way, but the only thing the met you was a euphoric, lovestruck smile. One soon pressed against your forehead, the peck just as disillusioning at his refusal to pull out.

“I knew you would come around… We’re going to be great parents.”

[hush-writes-preg]

i have a huge kink for breeding/preg as well as breast expansion/lactation and all the changes that go along with it. As a masculine, stealth trans man I’m also terrified of any of that happening irl.

One of my biggest fantasies is someone convincing or coercing me into getting knocked up regardless. Whether through hypnosis, slipping fertility drugs into my food, or just using my own arousal/kinks against me to get me to give in, the thought of it never fails to get me horny as hell…

I totally understand why such a thing might be scary to contemplate in real life, but thankfully we can play with those kinds of ideas in fantasy, right? It's a lot of fun to contemplate those nonconsensual ideas and get off to them in a safe environment. I hope the following leaves you squirming in a good way. ❤️

TW: non-con breeding *****

Almost nobody knows that under that strong, masculine exterior of yours lies a secret.

But I do.

You've spent years cultivating your outward appearance and mannerisms to be read as undeniably male, and I respect that. I don't see you as anything but another of my guy friends and occasional fuck buddies. But that doesn't change the fact that I also know that you have one of the juiciest holes I've ever had the pleasure of plunging into. It makes me imagine things I never have before, makes me crave using your body and womb to its full potential, though you're so responsible that it's not likely to ever happen. Such thoughts leave me feeling guilty, but they also turn me on like nothing else.

So one day, I decide to do something about it.

My sister's boyfriend works at the local fertility clinic, so it's not too hard to get my hands on some special drugs. I start sneaking them into your food and drinks whenever I can, brushing off your complaints when you occasionally notice a bitter taste. I conveniently 'lose' your birth control pills, and keep distracting you from picking up a new prescription. But you don't want to get pregnant, always remaining the responsible one, always making sure I use a condom-- so I sabotage those too. All it takes are a few pinpricks to render them nearly useless, and you're too busy taking my cock to really notice.

And I make sure you get plenty of that.

The thought of knocking you up leaves me incredibly horny, and I take every opportunity I can to yank down your pants and plunge inside of you. Plenty of times we do that back in my apartment, but sometimes in the car, and even once in the locker room at the gym after a workout one day. You look so good with your legs spread, taking me deep inside, not knowing what I'm trying to do to you. Not realizing that your body is pumping out eggs at a rapid pace thanks to the drugs, and that your womb is greedily sucking in my seed to fertilize any that it can. No, you're too busy grunting and moaning and begging me for more, and I am not going to say no to that.

It doesn't take long before you start putting on a little weight. It's not much at first, mainly around your stomach and chest, so I pretend that I don't notice when you ask me. The morning sickness comes and goes, and I just tell you that you must have eaten something bad. You don't miss your periods since you haven't had one in years, but I know you have nothing to worry about there-- your reproductive system is in perfect working order. And there's no way in hell that you're buying yourself a pregnancy test. What if someone sees you doing it and suspects that it's for you?

So by the time you truly realize what's happened, it's too late to do anything about it. And I'm not about to tell you just how much of a hand I had in the whole thing. I'll just remain at your side, taking responsibility for the life I helped create.

Your strong, masculine body starts to soften as your chest swells, your hips widen, and your belly grows round, much faster than you ever could have expected. Just wait until you find out that there isn't just one baby squirming around in your ever-expanding womb.

[ninelivesastrology]

tw: addiction

I thought my Q was in late stage addiction right when I gave birth, but I wasn't sure because I didn't have proof. It was so different than "mentally checking out" of the relationship until you get the chance to leave. To even think that alone is to think about how your Q will be dead soon. To think that recovery isn't possible for them.

When you're grieving the person you're around and they haven't died yet, your relationship is over. Anything else that happens between then and the end of the relationship is your fingers hanging onto a ledge and losing grip.

I've accepted that nobody would tell me if my Q is dead especially since Xanny the Nanny waited 6 months to tell my Q that his grandfather was dead.

History will repeat, so just like I was the last person to know that my Q relapsed and everyone thought it was SOOOO funny, I will be the last person to know that my Q is dead. I already had that discussion with him, though.

It's why I don't feel bad about dating again. You can't control people's actions and I'm not begging that family for anything because I'm not supposed to anyway and secondarily, just because I had a child doesn't mean I owe my Q the rest of my love and obligation and undying devotion.

As far as I'm concerned, my Q's motive in getting me pregnant was to trap me and that's what happened. If it wasn't for my Q's family enabling him and being secretive and shady, and Xanny the Nanny sabotaging everything to prevent my Q/her sonsband from abandoning her like his father did 30 years ago which involved enabling and participating in my Q's opiate addiction, perhaps I would've chosen against having my child like so many of my Q's family members wanted.

It's so funny, doing the most manipulative things to get the outcome you want instead of just having a conversation with someone will result in you getting an entirely different outcome.

Now we're here and I'm okay with how things turned out. Sure, it was always a possibility that my Q's addiction would destroy our relationship, something I knew when he admitted to relapsing in 2022. Isn't that what everyone wanted? But what did it first was my Q's enablers, hellbent on seeing him overdose.

I hope they get what they want since everyone was so invested in deceit or being cowardly enough to look the other way while assuming I was a drug addict, too.

I mean, my Q said it himself:

"I'm never going to rehab."

Okay, stand on that.

To me, my Q is already dead and I have the freedom to move on. Be mad about it.