#what if i spend all this money and then have to limp to my car after work because my calves and spine hurt?

[sailorsun546]

shopping for new shoes is so stressful

they’re so expensive and i never know if they’re going to fall apart quickly, it doesn’t matter how expensive they are, that doesn’t guarantee quality, and i never know if they’re going to hurt me

i’ve bought so many shoes that i can’t wear because i don’t know if they hurt until i wear them every day for a week and the pain never goes away and after that i can’t return them because my wretched feet have been in them

and i can read all the reviews and mission statements in the world, but i don’t know who is being honest and who is being paid to say the shoes are good

hell this is hell

[auragasmics]

HE LOVES IT WHEN I...

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂♡ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ synopsis! sugar daddies have a sweet tooth for all their sugar babies. but for you, these rich dilfs are ready to spoil you rotten for all your cute quirks!

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂♡ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂° ˚ ₒ pairings! sugar daddy bokuto koutarou, ushijima waktoshi, and akaashi keiji x fem! reader

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂♡ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂° ˚ ₒ cw! 1.7k, drabble + headcannon format, age gap (hq men are early 40s, reader is late 20s), car sex, oral ( m -> f), daddy kink, backshots, fingering, mirror sex, teasing, slight degrading, use of petnames

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂° ˚ ₒ xoxo, chris! sigh...i love bokuto sm! he can eat me 25/8. ushi can too!

pt.1

Sugardaddy!Bokuto loves it when you say thank you.

It turns him on to unbelievable lengths. It follows the same old routine, one he doesn’t plan to change anytime soon. Each time you accepted yet another bag filled with your latest hauls, you turned to the doting man, his hand eagerly waiting to catch your own. 

With a faint smile present on your lips, the soft coos of your voice rose to Bokuto’s ear, coaxing for his copal hues to widen. The pair of words were simple mannerisms, instilled from a young age for all. But whenever it rolled off your tongue, the porcelain shades of Bokuto’s skin couldn’t hold back the innocent hues of red from surfacing. 

All he needed to hear was your pretty mouth say it one more time that day, just once more. 

“Aht, don’t push my head away. That’s just mean,” Bokuto pouted, the pads of his fingers digging into the limp plush of your calves. He’s got all his weigh on you, pushing you down onto the backseat of his car. You winced mindlessly, your hazy eyes flickering among the space Bokuto occupied between your legs. Your fingers lazily carded through his locks, strength dwindling by the second.

 “B-Bo…I can’t take anymore,” you slurred, resting your head along the sleek platinum headboard. You couldn’t begin to comprehend what snapped inside Bokuto, his insistence leading to you gasping for a lick of air. He didn’t give you time to slip from the citrine dress you wore, only to be bunched around your bucking hips. 

“‘M so sorry, Princess. You just looked so good today, I wanted a piece of you,” he mumbled incoherently, his busy lips latching onto the twitching bud of your clit. He's relentless, working the slicked muscles to paint sticky strokes along the bud.  

He’d been tucked away in his own heaven, relishing in every drop of your essence that spilled into his mouth. He pulled at least three orgasms from you this way, each one slower than the last. 

“Wait–I can’t cum again, Bokuto please!” you sobbed, your back forcing out a harsh arch. You frantically nudged yourself deeper into Bokuto’s hold, your hips swiping at whatever could be caught. 

Sharing in your urgency, Bokuto kept his tongue pressed into your folds, the voids of his eyes taking in the sight before him. He always did love when you chased after your own high, using him however you saw fit. 

He pulled his hindering grip from your legs, allowing for your thighs to smother him in a swift close. Not another syllable had to be uttered as you approached your high, both hands grasping handfuls of Bokuto’s hair. 

A bubbling fit of words fled from your lips, Bokuto giggling at the view. He drew himself from your cunt, placing a final kiss onto the exposed bundle of nerves. He rested back onto his haunches, keeping his hunkering figure hovered above your own. 

As he swiped the pad of his thumb along the spit-ridden mess of your lips, he whispered to your dazed visage gently. “Be nice and use your words. Now, what do you say fr’ me, Baby?”

Through your heavy lashes, you mustered the bits of energy to respond, granting a satisfied smirk to creep onto Bokuto’s face.

“Thank you, Daddy.”

Sugardaddy!Ushijima loves it when you spend his money.

God, does he love it? The swipes of his card, the sifting through the thick bills tucked away in his wallet, Ushijima was addicted to it all. He didn’t even have to say a word, your hand already reaching for whatever mode of payment he had for the day. 

You weren’t aware of it, but there was a special glint that illuminated the olive hues of his eyes. Maybe it was how you twirled the thin sheet of plastic between your fingers, whistling some tune to pass the moments of processing. 

He was obsessed with the fact that every heel beneath the soles of your feet, every ring that hugged your finger, and every dress that clung to your body was all his doing, all stemming from the fruits of his labor. 

When that gratifying giggle rang from your throat, it was enough to fuel a flame within Ushijima’s belly—something he knew would be extinguished soon.

“I can’t hear you, Sweetheart,” Ushijima groaned, his hand prying from your stuttering hips. You lifted your head from the tear-stained pillow, pulling the swell of your lip through your teeth. “It’s so fucking good, Toshi! I w-want more,” you keened, eyes rolling to the back of your skull. 

Ushijima returned to the sight laid before him, the plump curves of your ass pressed against his tensed abdomen. Tracing down the arch of your spine, he was met with the glassy voids of your lidded eyes, spools of drool decorating your lips. 

Taking a provoking turn, he drew his hips from their post, dragging his length from your walls. He chuckled at the sound of your cries, the sadist whims surfacing to the forefront of Ushijima’s mind.

“C’mon Baby, you gotta work for all those bags you got today,” he surmised, landing a playful smack on your ass. The mewling whimpers from your lungs came to a sudden halt once you noticed what Ushijima held in the palm of his hand.

The hefty stack of blue bills sat snug in his hand, waving them to your gawking glance. “If you can make me cum just like this, I’ll add everything in my hand to your allowance,” Ushijima wagered snarkily. “Deal?”

With a sheepish nod, you agreed to take on Ushijima’s bet, planting your weakened knees into the mattress. A heavy breath brewed inside your lungs, acting as encouragement for your newly placed endeavors. Ushijima knew all too well how big he was, considering he was always so insistent on taking charge. 

Yet watching his pretty girl struggle to take him was just one of his favorite pastimes as of late.

With the single dive of your hips, your walls enveloped Ushijima’s cock in the viscid warmth once more. A stout arch coaxed itself into your spine as a keening sob sang from your lips. An overwhelming euphoria was placed upon your weary body, stemming from fullness residing within your cunt. Your digits dug into the cotton plush of the pillow, barely grounding your mind.

“Fuck–you must really want it, don’t you Baby?” Ushijima chuckled raggedly, the faint patterns of stars clouding his vision. He hadn’t anticipated your eagerness, the swift drops of your hips resting against his flexed abdomen. He felt everything, every twitch of your walls, every roll of your hips, even every kiss the head of his cock pressed into your cervix. 

The explicit clash of skin began the soft comforting tunes to Ushijima’s ears, hiding his blissful whimpers behind the music. His eyes were trained to the unfolding scene, from tracing the slick sheen of sweat dusting the curve of your back to catching each wave that passed through the supple skin of your ass. Reminding of something that of a fever dream, Ushijima melded into the amorous aura, quickly forgetting the bet he’d made with you. 

Giving in to his fading sense of self, Ushijima drizzled the stack of bills along your body, each one drifting to cover the sheets beneath you both. With his hand now free, Ushijima reached out to you, cupping your chin as he presented you with a single rhetorical question. 

“Who’s my rich little slut?”

Sugardaddy! Akaashi loves it when you flaunt your new clothes.

He finds it to be the highlight of his day. It’s even become his sense of downtime from the frantic day, hopping from shop to shop all across the city. He’ll sit in his favorite leather armchair with a cup of the richest brandy in hand, watching your giddy reflection paraded about through the mirror. 

“Don’t you look pretty? Told you this color suits you best, Sweetheart,” Akaashi cooed, his chin nuzzled within the crook of your neck. You couldn’t bother to respond to his compliment, not with his thick digits drawing relaxed circles along the supple bud of your clit. You clawed at his forearm in protest, the silk fabric of his dress shirt catching each scratch of your nails.

Perched atop his lap, Akaashi kept your thighs parted for his entertainment, his eyes pinned to the mirror’s reflection. He admired it all, the staggering rises and falls of your chest, your trembling lips, and the spilling streams of spit lining your chin. He only wished you could revel in the same vision he bore witness to. 

At his tender handling, your body melted into Akaashi’s hold. From the frantic beats of your heart, the nerves beneath your skin prickling with need, and the hot pants warming the air, it was all for him. Your back arched against his chest, squirming amidst the mind-numbing solace Akaashi delivered. 

“Look at that, making such a mess on my fingers,” he hummed, the tips of his digits ghosting the fluttering slit of your cunt. He allowed for a single finger to graze past your entrance, the lewd squelching spurring you on. “P-Please Keiji…don’t tease me like that. Just–” you sobbed, your hips bucking to meet his fleeting touch. 

“Sorry, baby. Not until you tell me how pretty you are,” he whispered, painting your limped jaw with lingering pecks. Drifting down to the pulse of your throat, Akaashi nipped at the skin, leaving the slightest hints of marks in his stead. 

His calming tone flew to your ear, earning your hazed attention. “Look in the mirror and repeat after me,” he instructed softly. You nodded concurringly, the lids of your eyes prying from their screwed hold. 

You were met with Akaashi’s narrowed glare, the darkened hues of his eyes pinned on you. Embarrassment rang through you, eyes glazing over your pitiful state. What caught your immediate attention was the ruby dress he’d just purchased sitting around your waist. 

Not to mention the pornographic sight of your cunt on full display for him, inducing for a merciful whimper to creep out your lungs. 

Yet for Akaashi, his own concern was hearing that voice of your repeat every word that soon left from his mouth. “I’m Akaashi’s…” he began, waiting for your frail reply.

“I’m Akaashi’s…” you uttered shyly, the inescapable heat swarming beneath your cheeks. He noticed your resistance, matching it with lingering swipes of his digits between your glossed folds. 

“Pretty Girl. I’m Akaashi’s pretty girl,” he compiled together, shifting back into his seat patiently. You swallowed the lump sitting in your throat, bundling the bits of energy to comply with his wishes. 

“I-I’m Akaashi’s pretty girl,” you whimpered out at last, granting a smile to spread along his lips.

“That’s my good girl. I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?”

[soupangel]

Drunk - Gojo Satoru

tags: established relationship, fluff, drunk reader, mentions of alcohol

wc:529

Synopsis: You come home drunk from a night out with Shoko missing Gojo

a/n: did I proof read this? no. I hope you enjoy!

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Shoko had called Gojo earlier to let him know you were coming home earlier than expected. So he had a feeling you’d be coming home drunk, but he wasn’t expecting this. He watches as Shoko struggles to get you out of the cab. You’re crying about something, but from where he’s standing, Gojo can’t hear what.

“Cmon y/n get out of the car,” Gojo hears Shoko say as she lightly tugs on your arm. “Don’t you want to see Gojo?” Shoko continues.

Gojo sees your head snap up at the sound of his name. He chuckles at how you stopped crying and looked up at Shoko. He sees you nod your head as you let Shoko help you out of the cab. You’re putting most of your weight onto Shoko as she helps you walk up the pathway to the front door. As soon as you're close enough to recognize Gojo standing in the doorway, you gasp and let go of Shoko to run towards him.

“Gojo!” you shout.

He rushes forward to catch you before you fall. Once you realize you're in his arms, you wrap into what Gojo can only describe as a bone-crushing hug. After catching his breath, he wraps his arms around you as well, only in a less bone crushing manner.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” He rubs your back as he asks you, realizing you had started crying again.

Before you have a chance to answer him, Shoko interrupts. “You happened. She wouldn’t shut up about you the entire night.”

“It’s not my fault I’m such a great boyfriend.”

“Yeah, okay,” she says, rolling her eyes. “But you owe me for tonight. I didn’t just spend my money to hear about you all night. I hear about you enough at work for free.”

“Alright, Alright, I know where to send it.” He laughs, readjusting his grip on you to help move you inside.

“Thanks for helping her get home!” He shouts to her before she gets back in the cab to go home. She just waves in response, giving them both a small smile.

“Bye Shoko!” you yell, finally speaking up, having just been enjoying the feeling of Gojo’s arms wrapped around you. She laughs and then gets in the cab to head home.

Gojo turns to help you walk inside, helping you take off your shoes once you were in the entryway. It seemed like by the time you made it to the bathroom; you were already half asleep with how limp your body was. Gojo sat you on the toilet seat and gently lifted your head so he could see your face. You weren’t asleep at all. Once he took a look at your face, he could see you smiling up at him.

“What’s got you so smiley?”

You hum for what seems like a minute before you finally answer him.

“I just missed you today,” you slur. “It feels like I haven’t seen you for like a million years.”

“You saw me just before you left with Shoko.” He laughs.

You shake your head back and forth in disagreement. “nuh uh it was a million years ago”

“Allright, if you say so,” he says as he goes to wet a rag to clean your face.

“mhm, I do say so.”

He doesn't speak again until he finishes wiping your face and it’s time to get you changed into your pajamas. To save him the hassle of helping you change in the bedroom, only for you to fall asleep as soon as he sets you down on the bed. He decides to bring your pajamas to where you’re already sat and awake.

He walks back in on you in the same spot he left you in, sitting on the toilet with your head tilted up. He knows you’ll be complaining of a sore neck tomorrow.

“Come on, it’s time to get changed.” He said, while lifting your shirt over your head.

“sir yes sir.” you say along with a sloppy salute, helping him by putting your arms in the sleeves of your pajama top.

Once on, he then helps you put on your pants. He’s glad he had you stay sitting for most of it because he could just imagine the amount of heart attacks he’d have while you drunkenly stand on one foot at a time. He takes your now clothed arms and wraps them around his neck to steady you as you both walk towards the bedroom.

“Time for bed now. We both have work tomorrow. Did you forget that while you were out with Shoko?” he said.

“I didn’t forget. I could never forget about my favorite students.”

“They’re your only students.”

“oh yeah.” you giggle.

He pulls the blankets up onto the bed before he helps you lie down on top of the sheets. Tucking you in once you get comfortable in your spot. He goes to walk over to his side of the bed when you hurriedly grab his wrist.

“wait where are you going? I haven’t seen you in a million years, remember?” you whine. And it takes all of Gojos’ willpower to not burst out in laughter. He gently takes your hand in his as he says,

“I’m just going to get in bed. Ill be right next to you.”

you pause.

“oh ok. but hurry!”

This time he does let out a small laugh as he makes a show of him jogging to the other side of the bed in the most hilarious way possible. Once he does, make in into bed, you're immediately tucking yourself in his arms. He makes a mental note to tell Yaga you won’t be coming in tomorrow because he knows how hungover you’ll be. He imagines this time around you’ll be in the same spot he left you in when he gets home.

“Goodnight. Love you.” he says

“I love you more”

“No, I love you more” he responds back deciding to entertain you.

“No way, I love you more” you say, dragging out the ‘no’.

“okay its time to sleep now.” he shushes you.

“But it’s true.” You mumble on the verge of sleep.

“we’ll agree to disagree, but you need to sleep now.”

He starts rubbing his hand along the length of your back to urge you to sleep. It only takes two minutes before you lightly snoring in his arms.

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likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! I would love to know what you thought!!

[rimaiahwrites]

more looks into the life of connie and his princess puh-leeze !!! that fic was so cute i’m obsessed

YESS I LOVE THEM SO HERE YALL GOO

(This soo late lol imma edit it tomorrow sorry about any mistakes) kinda short too but anywho

—

Connie’s good girl

The school year has been so rough for y/n, you have been more stressed than ever and was nearly burnt out. Connie knew this and was helping as much as he could but a lot of the time he was also busy with making drops and making ‘business’ plans with ony so when he was very pleased to see you running in the living room with a piece of paper in your hand waving it around with a big grin. “Pa look, look!” You said extremely excited. He grabbed the paper and realized it was your report card and it had only As and A pluses on it, no B or C in sight. He grinned before picking you up and spinning you around in his arms, “Good job princess, all AS!” He kissed your cheeks than your neck making you squeal and giggles since you were so ticklish. “I knew you could do it mama.” You smiled shyly, it always felt good to get so much praise from Connie, other then yourself he was the only person you ever truly wanted to make proud.

“You proud of me papa?” You grinned standing up on your tippy toes to kiss him on the lips. “Mhm very proud I think my princesa need some rewards.” You beamed with glee because that means Connie was going to get you whatever you wanted. You were already spoiled as it is but now that he had a real reason to spoil you today you knew it was going to be something special.

You went to get ready right away. You sported a mini flare skirt with a cute colorfully cropped top with spaghetti straps and pink kitten heels. Your hair was in a half up half down style with two ponytails. You were very cute to say the least.

“You look cute today mama, hope you got sum’ under this short ass skirt tho.” Connie said walking up to you running his hands to you ass to check. You rolled your eyes playfully, of course you did because you knew he didn’t play about any of that with his. “Yes I do now let’s gooo” you say pulling him to the front door. You connected your phone to his Bluetooth in his all black hellcat because of course You being the princess passenger you always got to play your music in the car unless you wanted to hear his. Connie speed out of his driveway like a damn crazy man you were truly surprised he hasn’t gotten into any car accidents with the way he drives, him being a speed racer makes it no better either.

Once you were in the mall it was like a kid in a candy store, you were pulling him to every store your eyes landed on, you got sneakers, heels, couple of bags, cute clothes makeup really anything your little heart desired and Connie was right there supporting you pulling his card out as soon as you stepped up to the cashier. It made your heart swell every time he did too, not just because he was spending his money on you but because he truly treated you like a little princess.

“Con which one?” You asked holding up two bags one dark pink and the other light pink. “I don’t know baby which ever one you want.” Connie mumbled kissing you on the cheek. You huffed and pouted “that’s why I asked you I don’t know what I want papa.” You rolled your eyes still looking at both of them not paying any attention to your surroundings clearly because the older white lady standing closely behind gasped and eyed you shocked at the pet name that you normally addressed Connie as. Connie snorted a chuckle looking the lady in the eye and pointed to the dark pink one. “That one you got a lot of clothes it will match with plus papa loves you in that color.” He said pulling you close and sliding his hand down to you ass gripping it a bit inwardly laughing at the white haired women awkwardly trying to avoid eye contact. You grinned and placed the other one down planting a big kiss on his shape jawline. “I think this is all I want pa let’s go home my feet hurt.” You cried playfully limping a bit.

Connie walked out the mall with Seven bags filled in his arms and you clinging on to him like a koala bear because your feet were hurting to bad from the heel and Connie of course spoiled you to no end and one little whine from you and next thing you knew you were being carried to the car.

“Thank you for all this I really appreciate it” You shyly admit, he was so fine that sometimes it intimidated you a little like his side profile, the neck tattoos going all the way down his arm and hand. He smiled back and leaned over to place a kiss on your soft lips. “You’re welcome mama, my pretty girl so polite let’s get home so I can give you your other presents.” He smirked as he bit and tugged on your bottom lip softly making you whine and clench your legs tightly.

-

Connie pulled his gaming chair to the mirror in his bedroom and pulled his shirt off, his tattoos on his chest now visible, you had just gotten out of the shower and you had nothing on but one of his big black t shirt. No Panties or bra. “C’mer.” You walked over to him with shaking legs knowing he was about to fuck you dumb. He pulled you on his lap and got started on your neck, kissing gently and pushing his hands under you makeshift nightgown and squeezed your boobs making you moan out a little bit. You bite your lip and watched him through the mirror. He was being so gentle with you like you were made of glass, you rubbed your legs together making your slick spend from your entrance to your clit. Connie quickly caught on and grinned against your neck. “be patient mama imma get to it.” You tried your best to slow your breathing but he was in your ear whispering and touching you. You were getting turned on very quickly. Connie ignored your needy moan and continued on with the teasingly foreplay before he pulled you against his chest and pulled your legs apart opening you up.

Your breath got caught in your throat when you saw your pink insides and Connie staring holes into mirror. “Look at this pretty pink pussy…so wet is that all for me?” You were quick on nodding your head. “I know.” He took his hand and rubbed his fingers up and down your slit slowly, killing you on the inside. He rubbed your clit for a beat before sliding his thick fingers in. Your pussy was already clenching onto him. “Ah-mm please go faster” you moaned. He nodded before he stroked his fingers deeper hitting your spot. Your eyes rolled shut and leaned your head back on his shoulder. “That feel good? Tell papa let me hear you.” You tried your best but only a pathetic whine was heard. That was good enough for him..for now. He pulled his fingers from you and placed them in his mouth sucking your cum off. “Why’d you stopp?” Your spoiled ass whine kicking your foot up a little. He chuckled and flipped your around so you were facing him. “Cuz I want you to cum on my dick not my fingers now stop whining.” He pulled his sweatpants down and his dick strung out, it’s tip was pink and wet with prenut.

“Come get up on it mama.” He pulled you up higher so you were above him and rubbed his tip up and down your slit before dipping in your sweet warm pussy. Your eyes widened from the shock it had only been a few days since he had given you dick but it was so big to you that you didn’t think you’ll ever get over the shook of his tip sliding in. “P-pa- ehhh” he looked up at you seeing the look of discomfort on your face. “I know it’s all the way in.” He said before slamming you down on it. “Oh fuck! Oh fuuuuckkk!” You moaned placing your hand on his shoulders trying to balance yourself but that was all thrown off because he started thrusting from up underneath you.

You gasped loudly grabbing his shoulders. “Waitt papa wait!” He smirked and thrusted harder, his dick hitting your g spot perfectly everyday. Your finger nails gripped into his strong tattooed arm.

“Yeahhh I’m getting in that pussy huhh mama” he said his voice raspy and deep, his tongue folded on his bottom lip. Your pussy was so tight and gripping his dick so good. You nodded your head already feeling out of it.

“Tell me how it feel baby…tell daddy.”

“Good, feel good daddyy.” You whine trying to sit up to ride him, you got up on your toes and laid your hands on his torso, he grinned big watching you “you gon ride like a big girl? Oh you acting outta character today princess.” You giggled but as soon as you sunk down you quickly remembered why you didn’t ride him often. “Go ahead you can do it baby.” You slowly but surely begin going quickly hitting deeper than before. Your knees knocked together when it started getting a little to deep and good.

“Gimme it! Gimme that daddy dick papa please I been a good girl promise!” You went on and on.

“Get it than mama you in control right now.” Connie said through small groans, you shook your head you wanted to keep going but all your strength was getting zapped. You fall onto his chest shaking like a leaf, his dick popping out. “Aw princess I thought you was gonna be a big girl and take it?” Connie chuckled smacking your ass making you jump a little.

“Papa I tried it’s just so hard and my legs aren’t that strong.” You pouted.

“That’s ok, that’s why I go to the gym.” He chuckled and picked you up by your legs and put his dick back in.

He Bounced you up and down, your loud wails were surely heard by the neighbors but Connie couldn’t give a fuck he was making his pretty girl feel good and that all that mattered to him…and you. You felt like you were in a whole different dimension you were hearing color and seeing sounds, your eyes felt like they were permanently crossed.

Connie loved your fucked out face, the drool and tears making you even prettier.

“M’ gonna nut daddy please don’t wanna make a mess on the floor waitt!” You sobbed, Connie ignored you and pounded harder because that’s exactly what he wanted.

“I know baby I know gimme that juice it’s okay daddy will clean it up.” He smiled gripping your face with one hand and the other holding you up, he placed a sweet kiss on your lips.

You whined against his lips and let it all out on his dick and floors. “There we gooo, mhmm.” He groaned rubbing his pink tip up and down your slit making your cum fling all over the both of you. You placed your face in his neck embarrassed hearing the loud splashing sounds. He smiled and waited to until your breathing evened out before setting you down on his bed. “You gonna suck daddy up?”

“Mhmm” You hummed giving him the prettiest smile before bringing his dick up to your lips.

“Daddies need to get spoiled too sometimes.”

[doberbutts]

As Disability Discourse 2.0 crosses my dash yet again I am left sort of wondering where the line is.

I am physically disabled. I am also neurodivergent. I do not consider myself mentally ill but I know that there are people out there with my exact diagnoses that do consider themselves mentally ill.

I have a brain injury. You can point to it on an MRI. I have the images to prove it. I had to re-teach myself how to speak. Those weird typos I have sometimes? Yeah my brain just reads letters wrong and sometimes spits out the wrong word or tense or grammatical structure sorry, that’s what happens when your brain gets shaken around in your head like a maraca following a serious car accident. I have a permanent tremor in my right hand and arm which results in me being incapable of fine motor control when having a flare. I am photosensitive and relatively intolerant of stress. I knocked an eye loose and was thankfully able to keep it but occasionally need to cover it or else it feels like someone is stabbing me directly in the brain when there is literally any light or movement whatsoever.

Did you know that over 30% of people who survive TBIs debate and even attempt to kill themselves within the first year? It’s still a bit unresearched but many neurologists believe it’s because many survivors have a hard time adjusting to their new normal when it feels like they have lost all control over themselves. I did not get that bad but I had many meltdowns where I would sob uncontrollably because it was all just Too Much, and the knowledge that it would be Too Much, Forever was curse over comfort.

Is that a mental or a physical disability? A part of my brain is damaged, like a scar. It is entirely neurological and mental in its symptoms.

I was diagnosed with a different brain condition, one that affects the autonomic nerve within my brain, causing fainting episodes, out-of-control mast cells, horrific digestive problems, and joints that bend a little too much. Average quality of life after diagnosis is roughly equivalent to someone with end stage heart failure.

A part of my brain is faulty and always has been. It is entirely physical in its symptoms. Is this a mental or physical disability?

My knee hurts. I was knocked off my bike one day on my way home from college. It was a hit-and-run driver and I didn’t have the money or the insurance to do more than slap a brace on it and limp around for several weeks while it healed. Less than a decade later it gave out. I was completely unable to walk for months. I lost my job. I ended up switching careers entirely so I could sit. I walk with a cane. I have to physically drag myself up stairs with my arms and my “good” leg. I spend nights grasping at my knee willing it to stop spasming as I try to get some sleep. I’ve had to beg for painkillers. Surgery will not help it. My knee is Completely Fucked, Forever.

This is a clear physical disability, that much is for sure.

I recently went to see Spiderverse. I warned my friend that it was entirely possible I’d need to duck out at some point because the movie would overwhelm me. I also warned her that I would probably need to immediately rest or go home and would not be able to hang out because I was anticipating it to be Sensory Hell. I went in prepared with my own snacks, tinted glasses to take the edge off the flashing, and even looked away during some of the worst of it.

I needed to duck out after an extended chase scene which featured a lot of flashing lights. I was able to come back and finish the movie. I needed nearly an hour of rest to stop shaking and be safe to drive myself home. I immediately went to bed upon getting home at about 4pm and by the time it was night had a pounding headache and shivers. I knew this would probably happen because the first one was very bad for my brain injury and I’d been pre-warned the second one was worse about it- truly I think it is really those movies’ biggest flaws is that they are very not friendly to people with problems with bright flashing lights.

My knee did not prevent me from entering the building. The theater was wheelchair accessible.

But even with sensory provisions, my brain injury and faulty nerve made it a monumental task to just finish a two and a half hour task of literally just sitting there.

I could go in. Staying was the part that was in question.

[keepthedelta]

everybody read @topnotchquark's addition to my post because it's literally perfect.

f1 is a sport where the drivers so rarely have any agency in their exits. they chase the dream so hard for so long, even after they've been successful that almost none of them get to leave because they genuinely want to. for so many of them, chasing the dream of f1 glory ends up being a slow, brutal, painful, often humiliating slog in midfield or backmarker teams until they finally cannot take the losses anymore.

michael schumacher was the greatest of all time by a literally ridiculous margin when he first left f1, and he left it as a genuine competitor who fought to the end. when he came back for his second try, he got beaten by a teammate for the first time ever, and achieved a single podium in three years. he was eventually manoeuvred out by mercedes management who left him no way or time to get another seat if he wanted one, and discarded him for the next great talent, lewis hamilton.

sebastian vettel left a team that adored him and prioritised him to fulfil a childhood dream, and when ferrari decided that he wasn't worth it anymore, they prioritised his teammate and then fired him for a driver who had never even won a race. the highlight of his final years in f1 was a single podium, and winning grill the grid. i'm not sure that that particular trophy will be of great comfort to him.

fernando alonso left formula 1 after trying and failing to recapture the glory of victory so many times. even now, he is racing in a sport where he hasn't won a single race for more than a decade. now, as he faces retirement for a second time, he has to consider making it to the podium a great achievement, where once it would have been a sub-par weekend.

daniel ricciardo was once considered a genuine contender for a world championship, but he got beaten by a younger, stronger talent, made a series of career mistakes that ultimately resulted in him being fired, and has come limping back to the junior team, knowing that he will never be considered a championship contender again, and at best he can hope to be max verstappen's second driver.

even lewis hamilton is not immune to this. he is statistically the most successful driver of all time, and yet the team with which he won six titles did not want to give an indefinite extension to his contract because they lacked faith in him and the car and would rather set themselves up for the next generation of talent than spend money on an aging driver potentially past his prime.

no driver, no matter how great, is exempt from this. and nico, who grew up in this world more than almost anyone else, knew exactly what could happen, and decided that he didn't want that life. he married vivian because he loved her, and had a child with her because he wanted a family with her. and once he had his championship, he decided that what he wanted was away from the track, and to this day i don't believe he has a single regret over it. i don't know that you can say that about everyone else

[markiza297]

some of my music-related EMH headcanons because i feel bad and want to share it.

VINNY:

Vinny loves post-punk and goth music, like Joy Division, The Cure, Swans, The Fall, Depeche Mode and New Order. But when he gets asked to put something he likes on, he puts something like Prodigy or Infected Mushroom on, to look cool and not to "bore" his friends. And because he genuinely likes those as well.

___

Also i cannot NOT project my own coping mechanisms on emh characters, so i think (before the events unfolding, while Jessa is still alive and everything is normal) that boys like to meet up and share music AND their feelings in the format of : "This is how I feel : *Numb by Linkin Park starts playing*".

JEFF:

Jeff feels overwhelmed at his hospital job, feeling that he is responsible for everyone and everything, so most of the time when he doesn't have to work with patients, he wears headphones to ease his mind a bit, usually listening to something rhythmic (+1 point if the track doesn't have any words).

Jeff would be such a fan of Twenty One Pilots. This band is so him coded.

___

I think that Jeff and Evan would bond over their love for AJJ (again, im projecting, I KNOW). But Jeff would like the deeper details of the lyrics, and Evan would be like, "yo thats fire" because of the interesting sound.

EVAN :

I think that Evan has a Walkman cassette player, and he prefers cassettes to CD's, because "they sound worse". 

And the glove box in his car is filled with checks and old bills, and cassettes that don't match their package, for example, an AC/DC cassette in a Metallica case, etc. 

imo im convinced that Evan would be a huge lover of nu metal, im talking ALL OF IT. im talking Limp Bizkit, im talking Papa Roach, im talking Slipknot, Linkin Park, Skillet, KoЯn. Every time he gets a chance to get a record, he would spend his last money just to headbang to new edgy song while driving home.

And OF COURSE he would like Gorillaz. I think it should be canon, it's so obvious.

___

I think about Evan and his taste in music like this scene in Scott Piligrim where Ramona has unnecessary amount of different teas.

"-What do you like to listen?"

"-Let's see... We have classical rock, punk rock, hard rock, rock and roll, heavy metal, industrial, nu metal, alternate, metalcore, electropunk, funk metal, new rave, and... Indie"

HABIT :

Evan can't stand MCR (i know it's a hot take, i know), but HABIT loves them, especially when he gets to rearrange and clean his weapons, humming along while putting on a show, like twirling knives in the air or threatening an imaginary opponent.

If talking about my favorite purple bastard, I think it's really for music to get stuck in his head, and sometimes it can result in pretty hilarious (although still horrifying if you know the context) things, for example him throwing out the "trash" *wink wink* and not noticing how he sings something he had heard on the radio.

Just imagine HABIT humming ABBA or some 2010 white girl music. This brings me so much joy, you have no idea.

STEPH:

I think Steph would hide her preferences, until she feels safe enough to share some of the music she likes, and if a person she shares it with likes it as well, she would spend hours and hours talking about every little detail in lyric and sound and how it all has A DEEPER MEANING! She would be right, tho.

I'm convinced there was a situation where she gave an Evanescence cd to Evan with "this reminds me of u" written on the cover. I don't make the rules.

She probably writes some lyrics she really liked "to put them into her art later" only to forget about it.

[thirteens-earring]

Jane Schoenbrun, from Episode 174 of the Gender Reveal podcast (episode) (episode transcript)

[ Tuck: Yeah. And somehow that brings me to Limp Bizkit. Because I think it’s so funny that you created this incredible soundtrack with like every iconic girlie, and then in the movie itself you know Sloppy Jane’s in the movie, King Woman’s in the movie, Lindsey from Snail Mail is acting in the movie, and then…Fred Durst is there. [Jane laughs.] Can you talk about why you wanted to work with him specifically, and what that experience was like of bringing him into the movie?

Jane: Yeah. So the first thing to say is that when I was 12, I loved Limp Bizkit, because it was 1999, and I was vaguely pissed off at a thing that I couldn’t quite put my finger on, right? And I think that nu metal thing was very appealing to me, in that — Limp Bizkit less, but a band like Korn or Slipknot — Slipknot is donning masks, and actively appropriating just the sort of iconography of the horror movie and grotesquerie to describe their internal feelings. And Korn is talking about how they’re a “Freak on a Leash.” And it’s this pre-Columbine, right before Columbine moment where I don’t think culturally we had like zeroed in on that necessarily (or at least I hadn’t at 12 years old) as a symptom of this growing nascent white male anger. It felt more like they were carrying the torch of the weirdo; I think that was sort of the appeal of a lot of that nu metal music when it first came out, was like I’m a “Freak on a Leash.” I think Limp Bizkit was a little different, because they certainly cast themselves as the underdog, but they didn’t necessarily cast themselves as “a freak,” you know? It was more of a pissed off, like Kid Rock style — I’m young, I’m white, I’m angry, have sex with me. [Tuck and Jane laugh] But I didn’t understand all of that, and I was 12 in the suburbs, and that was what a lot of money was being spent to convince me to buy, and I bought it, and I loved it, and I had that Family Values ’99 tour tape cassette, and I listened to it. And when I got bar mitzvahed, my bar mitzvah gift was a CD case — remember those little things you would keep in your car to keep CDs in?

Tuck: Yeah, definitely.

Jane: We got custom “Jane’s Bar Mitzvah” CD booklets [Tuck laughs], and it had Limp Bizkit drawings on the cover. So if you have one of those, that’s a collectors item now. [Tuck and Jane laugh]

Tuck: That rules.

Jane: After I wrote TV Glow, and just spending a lot of time unpacking my childhood and my adolescence in the suburbs and just feelings of alienation, I had written this character — hardly a character, more like this spectre of the anger of a dad who looks at you in the way that I have experienced, where it’s like…are you looking at me as your child, or are you looking at me as a person who has robbed you of your child? And this is very much a trans horror. I got notes early on like “let’s flesh out this dad, where does that come from?” And I was like “no actually, I don’t really care about that.” This is a movie about that gaze and that disapproval, and the way something as innocuous as saying, like, “isn’t that TV show you love and are finding refuge in for girls?” can steal decades of your life from you, because of the shame and fear that it ingrains in you. And so the question then became: who is glaring at us? And it wasn’t just like “oh Fred, get on a casting call and do your best glare.” It was that it means something to see Fred Durst glare at you. Fred is a fascinating and wonderful and generous person. I took Dave McCary (my executive producer) to see Limp Bizkit with me at Madison Square Garden as we were prepping, and as I was basically like “please let me cast Fred Durst as Owen’s dad.” And we walk onto the floor of Madison Square Garden, and it’s like…white militia is the audience, I’d say. [Tuck laughs]

Tuck: Totally.

Jane: It’s a lot of, like, ex-Marine energy in the house, and a lot of the energy that was being cultivated at that show was, let’s say, riling up the audience in the way that you would at a wrestling match. There was such anger and aggression being let out — just people who were riled up getting their rocks off, or whatever. But it was also so homoerotic, and not even subtly homoerotic. Like people…the guy in front of me just kept screaming at Fred Durst on stage “I want to suck your dick!” [Tuck laughs] Yeah, I mean…good admission; [Tuck and Jane laugh] follow that impulse wherever it leads you…

Tuck: Totally.

Jane: …and get whatever you need to get out of your system — there’s a way. At one point early in the show, Dave turns to me and goes “do you ever feel, like, unsafe in public?” [Tuck and Jane laugh] And I was like…oh — this is how you teach cis people what it means to be trans, you take them to the Limp Bizkit show, and you have them stand next to the trans person. And I’m like “yes Dave, actually…and a lot more recently since my transition.” [Tuck and Jane laugh]

Tuck: OK — and what about this was like…I gotta get this man in my movie?

Jane: So then what happens…Dave is like, “you can stay if you want, but I’m actually gonna go before they play ‘Break Stuff.’” And we ran out of Madison Square Garden, and on the street Dave is like “do you still want to cast Fred Durst?” And I was like “yeah, more than ever!”

Tuck: Incredible.

Jane: And then I got on the phone with him a couple days later, and we were talking about French films within three or four minutes. He’s a gentle soul behind the scenes, with a great understanding of film and art. He’s a showman, and it happens to be that the audience that will come to his things at this point tend to be the kind of people who wanna scream that they want to suck his dick, in an arena that feels like it’s about to turn into a riot. I’m interested in the film being this intertextual thing of: what does it mean to see Fred Durst in this particular movie about this particular thing, and how does that spectre bloom both in our collective memories but still in the present tense? Which isn’t to say that it’s about Fred himself; it’s more about this white male rage that I found something in when I was 12 years old, but that has also been brewing and metastasizing since then in ways that I am very disturbed by. ]

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Sunflower: Book 1, Chapter 4

Tom Hiddleston x OFC Series rated: M Chapter warnings: drinking AN: Bonus chapter- It's cold AF in most of the USA right now. We deserve a bonus posting this week. I know I do, my toes are still cold from changing the Bunny's water for the 3rd time today. Chapter 3, Masterlist, Chapter 5 ~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 4

They walked as the city woke up slowly around them. Most of the buzz was from new arrivals, not yet having had the chance to drink too much or stay out too late. 

“There’s a shoe store,” Tom pointed to the shop up ahead. “Do you want to get some better shoes? I can’t imagine your feet are comfortable in those heels.”

He was right, the heels were far from comfortable. She had been trying not to show the discomfort though it seemed that she hadn’t been successful. “Oh no, it’s fine. The Tram isn’t far ahead and then it’ll be a little bit of a walk.” 

“Why are you lying to me?” The cheer that seemed to be near always present in his voice was gone. It seemed to disappear whenever the topics turned more serious. 

“I’m not?” It was useless to lie but she tried anyway. 

He grabbed her elbow and pulled her to the side of the walkway. His grip was strong but not so much so as to hurt her. Facing him, she felt ashamed for the lie.

His blue eyes were earnest and caring. Again and again he insisted he wanted nothing but to help her, to be there for her, to know her and yet she lied about her sore feet. 

“You’re limping.” 

“It’s fine-”

“Why do you not want to get some more comfortable shoes?” Why did he have to care so much about her? “If we’re going to do this we have to talk to each other. We have to be honest with each other.”

“I don’t need new shoes. I have shoes-”

“Talk to me.” He was pleading with her as his grip on her arm turned slack.

“Look, I just- It’s not in the budget.”

“I’ll get it.” Tom offered as if it was nothing. Hell, to him it probably was nothing. 

“I don’t want to take from you. I- everyone is going to think I married you for money or to use you or something. Fuck, for all I know I did but…” 

“But what? I’m offering. Your feet hurt. I don’t give a damn what anyone thinks. You need shoes. I can afford shoes. Simple mathematics.

She felt terrible for allowing him to buy her new shoes on top of the clothes and breakfast. Whenever she had mentioned it, he would just remind her that he was her husband for now. He would say that it didn’t matter because of that but she wasn’t so sure about it.

“So, where do you live?” She knew he was British but there wasn’t a lot she knew otherwise about him. It seemed to her that British People tended to spread out and settle all over the world, making their accent and nationality little use in telling where someone actually lived. “You know I’m a local so I guess I should know that about you too.”

“London, England. I travel a lot for work though. I’ve spent most of the year in America for filming, going here and there as needed.” 

“When do you go back?” They walked by women wearing nothing but a thong and stickers on their nipples. The city was warming up and coming to life but the man walking beside her didn’t offer them so much as a glance. 

“I’ve got a ticket a week out to go back home.”

“What happens then?” She couldn’t make sense of how they were going to give this marriage a chance. Was there any point when they were strangers and he lived halfway around the world.

“We’ll figure that out when it comes. I can move the ticket or maybe you can come with me.”

“Maybe we’ll need a break from each other too.” Mia wasn’t sure if she was joking or not.

“Do you need to head home?” Tom asked, glancing at his watch. 

Mia sighed. Going home was something she did need to do but it wasn’t something she wanted to do. “Probably, yeah.” 

“Do you have a car?” He was well aware that it was the norm in America to have cars but with her hesitation to spend the money on shoes, he wasn’t sure if it was something he should assume.

“Yeah, the employee parking is just around here.” She gestured toward a large building tucked away behind the resort they had met in. “What will you do?”

“Would I be too forward if I asked to go with you?” 

“Oh,”

“I- we have so much to work out still but if we stay separate, especially this soon, I don’t it’ll help us get to know each other.”

“You want to stay with me?” Questions raced through her mind. Risks were calculated and weighed and she didn’t have enough time. 

“I’ll sleep on the couch if you’d rather and I can be out when you’ve got engagements to attend to.”

“Work- normal people call it work.” He chuckled and she hated how she liked the sound. 

“I can busy myself outside of your home while you’re working if you’d rather.”

There was no way he would want to stay in her apartment. It was small and cramped and he was a goddamn actor of enough note to have Ashley swearing. “We’ll see.” 

“I’ll take it.” Reaching out, he grabbed her hand in his and squeezed it softly. Her face grew warm at the small affection. Until now, they hadn’t touched each other since they woke up. “I’ll go get checked out and grab my bag. We’ll meet out front?”

“Okay.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mia Maria!” Michelle called for her as soon as she stepped into the employee locker room. “You’re not supposed to be in today?”

“Thanks, I didn’t want to see you today either.” Mia teased. Michelle had long been a good friend and trusted coworker. “Stayed on the strip last night.” 

“AC not fixed still?”

“They said it’ll be fixed by noon.” Mia unlocked her small locker and grabbed her keys and purse. Tom had found her Driver’s License and debit card in his wallet but everything else she left safe in her locker. Of the things she wanted to experience in life, losing her purse on the Strip was not high on the list. It was better to have a few cards in her pocket and leave everything else locked up safe and sound. If only she knew where her clothes had ended up.

“Sal stay with Ashley last night?” 

“Yeah. They’re having a day together while I get my shit figured out.”

“Must be some shit- You look stressed.”

“You wouldn’t believe it.” Mia said as she closed her locker. “We’ll take later.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Was it silly to feel insecure about her car? It was nice enough for normal people but for him? Who knows. He didn’t appear to be stuck up or worried about appearances. On the other hand, he had designer suits in his closet for a casual trip to Las Vegas.

The ringing of the phone on the speakers cut off her thoughts as she answered. “I’m just walking out the doors.”

“I see you.” For better or worse. “I’m two cars back. Red SUV.”

Long legs made quick work of the distance. As soon as the door unlocked, he pulled open the hatchback. The suitcases were large but he didn’t have many. He was a light traveler which was good- there wasn’t a lot of space in her apartment. 

“Are you sure about this?” Mia asked as he slipped into the passenger seat.

“Sure, what better way to get to know you than to get to know your life?” He adjusted the seat back, making room for his legs. “How far is it?”

“About thirty minutes.” Mia sighed. “It’ll go fast, we just have to get off the strip first.” 

“You drive half an hour into work and back?” 

“Every day. Well, five days a week at least. I avoid the strip like the plague most of the time otherwise.” 

“Have you always lived here?” He was looking out the window, watching the heart of Las Vegas quickly give way to what could be mistaken as any other city. So many people never saw Las Vegas as anything more than the glittering lights and cacophony of noise in a handful of miles. 

“Yep, born and breed here. What about you?” She needed to get to know him. He seemed safe enough, kind but there was so much unknown about the man she was bringing into her home. Their home. 

“Spent most of my life around London when I’m not traveling.”

“You travel a lot?” The city gave way to highway traffic and wide open spaces. Neighborhoods and small town centers spread out around them, crashing into each other as she technically left Las Vegas without ever leaving a city.

“More than I’d like sometimes.” 

“I thought all actors thrived on travel.” A horn blared behind her as she changed lanes. They wouldn’t have gotten cut off if they were going the speed limit but who was she to tell someone how to drive.

“At times,” He admitted. “But I’ve always been a bit of a homebody. The stage is my passion though I enjoy film well enough. It’s nothing compared to a live show. Are you close to your family?” 

Silence ticked on for a few moments before she answered, “I don’t have much family. It’s just Ashley for the most part.” She needed to tell him. “You?”

“Fairly. I’ve got two sisters, nieces and nephews. I’m close with my parents, though they’ve divorced. They did their best to give us the best they could.”

“Must be nice.” She mumbled under her breath.

“I didn’t catch that, I’m sorry?” 

The exit was coming up quickly and she was running out of time. “Why are you single?” 

It was a dumb question. He wouldn’t just come out and say ‘well you see, I’m a terrible man’ or ‘I tend to be quick to anger’ or ‘I’m not safe’ or ‘I hate kids and pets’.

“I’m not anymore, technically.” he chuckled as she shot a annoyed glance his way. “I know, not what you mean. I’d been with a woman for a while but when my career shot forward; There was a lot of eyes on me, a lot of interest in me from fans. Many of them woman and she wasn’t comfortable with that. We’d gone our own ways a bit ago, some months now. She found someone else, they got married. Turns out I wasn’t so hard to move on from.”

“That sucks.” She wasn’t sure what to say. The idea of being the target of media or fans in a negative way hadn’t occurred to her but she was well versed in the sting that was somehow being easy to leave behind.

He cleared his throat, “What about you?” 

“I was with a guy for a while right out of school. Then he decided he liked a stripper better. Can’t blame him too much, she was pretty. But he left our whole life behind. I thought we were going to get married and be a family but, oh well.”

“It doesn't matter how pretty she was, he shouldn’t have gone around on you with another woman.” 

“If you say so.” She laughed, taking her hand from the wheel and pulling strands of hair behind her ear and out of her face. Before she had a chance to replace it, he enveloped it in his. 

“I swear to you, for so long as we are doing this together, I will be loyal to you. It doesn’t matter how pretty anyone else is, I will only have eyes for you.”

“You can’t promise that.” Do not get you hopes up, she told herself. He held her hand in his. His hand was large, much larger than hers, soft, warm and begging her to believe him.

It felt weird to be touched by him. It felt even weirder as he placed a soft chase kiss to the back of her hand. 

“I am.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They laughed as they exited the bar. It was a small but fancier than she had ever thought she would drink at. It hadn’t mattered, though; he had been buying her drinks.

“Oh, look!” She gushed as a mass of white caught her eyes. 

“What’s that?” He draped his arm around her shoulders and it felt warm. It felt comfortable.

“A wedding party.” The bride and groom were perfectly styled. The white dress was fairytale poofy and flowed as she moved down the steps. “I always love stumbling on a random wedding here.” 

“People really do just get married here?” Tom mused, his words slurring some.

“Yeah. The clerks office is open late and the paperwork is quick. You can rent dresses and shit.”

“Do you want to get married?” 

~~~~~<3

Tag List: @winterisakillerr, @alexakeyloveloki @jennyggggrrr, @dangertoozmanykids101, @tilltheendwilliwrite @tinchentitri @wizardcherryblossom @buttercupcookies-blog @violethaze @kats72

[c0ffeecr0w]

Just gonna share some of my headcanons, mainly for the 16 - 22 year old highschool/college versions of the main 4/5 but also for their canon age version as well. I took some of @rottrottencorpse's SP HCs cuz I thought they fit so well

Here's what I have so far:

Stan is bisexual, Kyle is biro-asexual (gay pref), Cartman is gay (closeted), Kenny is panro-hetero and Butters is bicurious

Stan, Kenny and Butters have blue eyes with Butters' being sky blue, Kyle has green, Cartman has heterochromatic (brown and blue)

Kenny and Cartman are Genderfluid, both having masculine and feminine identities. Kenny goes by He/She/They pronouns but normally goes by He/Him, while Cartman goes by He/She, mainly He/Him as well unless in feminine clothing (and Transginger)

Stan has Spanish/Iberian roots, given from Randy. He sometimes gets called greaseball by Cartman but mostly as a joke (his hair isn't greasy anyway)

Cartman and Stan hang out together on weekends when Kyle isn't around or have nothing else to do. They get along well together

Stan's dog Sparky is a Staffordshire Terrier and American Bulldog mix. He still has him, though he likes to hang out with Big Gay Al usually. He still likes Stan though

Cartman is the shortest out of the gang (5'5) while Kyle is the tallest (6'2) while Stan (5'9) and Kenny (5'11) are somewhere in between

Cartman and Butters both love Disney films

Eric has a soft spot for cats and dinosaurs

Kenny does Karen's hair while she paints his nails for him (Butters taught her)

He also loves Fast and breakfast foods, pancakes especially

Kenny smokes the most out of the gang, from nicotine to marijuana, Stan and Eric occasionally, Kyle doesn't, Butters would be easily peer pressured to do it though

He doesn't do substances around Karen

Stan listens to Alt Rock, Emo, Grunge and Metal (most subgenres), hates Dubstep. Kyle listens to Classical and The Cure. Eric has his Spotify playlist filled with Pop music. Kenny is a Grunger and Nu Metalhead, loves Nirvana and Limp Bizkit, though he likes plenty of different music. Butters probably likes Pop and Eurodance, the happy, cheesy kind. Stuff you'd here on DDR basically

Kenny plays with Karen when she wants to, sometimes Butters plays dolls with her too

Stan binge eats when depressed/stressed. He's gained a bit of chub because of it aside from his sluggishness when high or tired. It isn't noticeable in his usual jacket or in baggy clothes

Kenny has a job that he works at in the summer. He spends a bit of his money on either for his home or for Karen. 60% of his money is given by Butters

Stan has a slight crush on Kyle, though they both see each other as mostly best friends

Butters and Kenny both love each other platonically and romantically.

Butters is a pro at DDR. Kenny sucks at it but plays it with Butters anyway when at the arcade

Stan is still with Wendy, both have gone over their on and off relationship and managed to become better. He's in a poly relationship with her and Kyle since Wendy is polyamorous

Kyle is from Irish-Polish descent. Irish from Sheila's side, Polish from Gerald's side

Stan and Kenny are smoke and music buddies. They both nearly have the same music taste

Eric, Kenny and Butters still have their superhero characters, though all of them LARP as their superhero and fantasy characters

Stan is an alcoholic and stoner. He doesn't go to the point where he abuses it but he usually drinks a can/bottle or 2 a day

Stan is an animal lover but mostly loves big dogs

He also plays the guitar, mainly because of playing Guitar Hero that inspired him

Kyle is germophobic. He hates pee (canonically), anybody sneezing/coughing on him or even a drop of spit getting on him while one is talking

Cartman is most likely the one who'd blast music in the car at full volume

Kyle is more outdoorsy than Stan and would go have walk in the woods

Kenny is a skater boy

Has piercings on his nose and ears, dragon tattoos on arm and back

Also loves Horror and action movies

Stan sucks at iceskating or skating in general, though Wendy is sweet enough to help him out

Butters works at a diner, which Kenny meets him at often. Butters would give him either a hot dog, pancakes or anything he'd like

Kenny has a crush on Butters, which Butters is aware of. Both are real sweethearts to each other

Kyle enjoys writing stories and poetry. He sometimes shares some to Stan, Kenny and Wendy

Kenny is more of a foodie than the rest of the gang. He even eats more than Cartman does (Jk, not pokin fun at his weight)

Kyle hates his hair but Stan would hate it if he would cut it off

Kenny is still Mysterion. No one knows it's him except for his friends. Due to him being up at night, he sleeps a lot in class. Total night owl

Kyle is a A+ student, who Kenny leans onto due to him failing math. He's nice enough to help him out

Stan would be the one who'd sneak in a hip flask at school just in case he gets depressed, though it'd affect his focus if he drinks too much. Despite that, he's a B+ student. Great at art and History

Cartman is a B- student, he sometimes slacks off, texting or watching YouTube videos on his phone. Great in Spanish and English

He and Kenny would be ones who'd pack plenty of snacks. Kenny would be sweet enough to share a bag of chips or 2 while Cartman just hoards it all, especially for Kyle. Though exceptions are for Stan, Kenny and Butters, maybe Clyde too

Kenny is a C grade student. He sucks at math and History but nails science and art

Stan has had moments where he'd get drunk at prom night or in class

Even though he struggles with depression and alcohol, he's such a sweetheart teddy bear

Kenny hides his playboys and cig packs under his mattress in case Karen finds them in his room

[sab3rto0thed]

my only ex-boyfriend was careful to never hit things. his hands never connected with the dashboard. the windows were safe. the roof was undented. we were alright.

he would yell, though. i hated yelling. at home, i flinched when the cupboards slammed. it was my parents, my brother. something was always screaming in tune with their motions. once, my brother tried to bash my door down in his rage. i think i was sixteen. no one was protecting me.

my ex-boyfriend said, if you need me, i'll come. when i finally asked him to come, he sent our friends after me. you're wasting his gas money, they said. he can't come. you're too late.

it was during christmas time. i had a miniature christmas tree in my bedroom. i collected all of the small ornaments from its spindly branches and tucked them all around my room. then i laid on the floor for days.

when my boyfriend found me, he lifted me onto his lap. he was always very careful to tell me things when i was like that. limp. motionless. he put his hands between my thighs, pulled my hair until it was painful. he cut slats into the spaces in my ribs until i resembled the blinds you find on windows.

once, he choked me so hard that i couldn't breathe. he had me positioned carefully underneath him when he told me my mother didn't want to take care of me. in a way, it was true. she always gave him money, sent him away with me. she never stopped doing that. it didn't matter who was in my life or what they wanted. as long as i wasn't her problem.

i didn't want to believe he was telling the truth. truth is supposed to be untainted by bias, and this wasn't. but i was always a little bit of her problem. for a very long time, i folded myself as small as i could go. if my brother bashed my door down again, he wouldn't find anything. my family would spend all day looking.

i would not have slipped out of the window. i would just be gone. that was how it was meant to be.

it stayed this way even after i broke up with my boyfriend. i bought myself fast food when my distant friends were willing to take me somewhere. i choked on the slightest bit of affection. i was hugged three times in one night and then i wouldn't hear from them for weeks.

when i was in the car with them, they went thirty over the speed limit. they floored the gas. they slammed on the brake so hard the car swerved. they put their hands on my face, picked me up so i could sit on their lap in the backseat.

i didn't think they would ever crash with me in the car. they had protected me, after all. this was the aftermath. everyone else had truly left me alone.

the day of the crash, the boy i loved look me in the eye and said, we knew. we watched everything. we knew all of it. we watched you, curled up on the floor. you were always going to be nothing to us.

all of the times they had floored the gas, hit the brake, sped off the cliff. they had known. they had known exactly what they were doing. they knew how i was. they took everything from me. there wasn't much to take.

for two years after that, i never got in the car with anyone else. when i finally did, it was with a completely new friend that knew little about me. i didn't trust her a bit. when she was driving in the dark, i was ready to run off that cliff.

for a year after i started driving, it was a game of imitation. flooring the gas. slamming on the brake. swerving off of a cliff. my pulse in my ears. glass shattered all over the road like a constellation. shards stapled to my forehead. my body crumpled in the passenger seat.

i had been thinking about killing myself for as long as i could remember. i didn't like any of the ways. a car crash, i thought. a car crash. a car crash.

my mom would kill me if i crashed her car. if the blow didn't kill me, i would have it all taken away. she would never let me drive again. she always held that sort of thing over my head.

during the summer, i had my friend in the passenger seat. she had her knees curled up to her chest. her head rested against the window. her blonde hair fluttered in the breeze. the blue-gray evening was the same color as her skin. she was peaceful and perfect and she trusted me. she had not taken me off the cliff.

i was not going to crash the car.

[wiretchings]

memory log #56

tuesday, january 7th, 2025 -- 4:22 p.m. 

there’s no better way to spend a biting winter afternoon than icing the bruises on your jaw and stomach. so, obviously i didn’t fucking listen to elliot. i spent all of sunday and monday afternoon staking out his apartment, and it seemed that whoever’s patrolling the apartment complex gets there after 7 p.m. i assumed they wouldn’t expect him to try to slink back into his place in broad daylight, knowing that people were after him. 

i assumed wrong. 

maybe i should have kept watch for longer than a day and a half, but you try staying put and not losing your fucking marbles in this situation. i knew tye and carson would put me under house arrest if i told them where i was going, but i needed to tell someone in case something happened to me. i told sherry, big mistake, because she insisted on coming with me “if i was going to do something so fucking stupid.” i agreed, on the condition that she stays in the car so that we can book it if we get backed into a corner. 

i blew her a kiss before exiting the passenger seat and told her not to miss me too much. she rolled her eyes and said, “don’t expect to get out of your shift tonight if you get your ass handed to you.” and get my ass handed to me i did. 

they waited until i was about to lock his apartment’s door from the inside, one of the fuckers stuck his foot in at the last minute and forced it open. another guy came in behind him and put me in a headlock. i bit down on his arm and tore off a chunk of flesh, which caused his grip to loosen as he let out a guttural scream. “fucking freak,” he spat, kicking me in the stomach. i doubled over and pulled out my pocket knife, but the man who was holding the door open twisted my arm back and ripped it out of my grip. i struggled as they pinned me to the ground, the one who stole my knife held it close to my neck. 

“where is he?” he whispered through gritted teeth, i could feel the curved tip of the pocket knife tickle my skin. 

“why do you think i’d come here if i knew that?” i spat back. he stared at me, trying to read my expression. 

“what do you want from him? money?? i can get you money-” i was interrupted mid-sentence by a swift fist to the jaw. i tasted blood in my mouth, it was nauseating. 

“don’t fucking insult us, you piece of shit. if you have a key to his apartment, you’ve gotta know what we’re after.” his eyes were wild now. 

“i don’t-” the man pulled his arm back to punch me again and i lifted my head in panic, only for the back of my skull to bounce back onto the hardwood floor. “i-i i swear, i was just hoping to find some sort of clue as to where he disappeared off to! i have a copy of his apartment key b-because i’m his cousin...” i knew they didn’t fully believe me, but i was also useless to them as far as they were concerned. “he owes my dad money, so we thought he dipped because he didn’t want to pay...” 

the men got off me and i winced as i pushed myself up off the ground, limping towards the doorway. i turned back one last time and rubbed my jaw, “so you have no clue where he might be?” 

slipping my pocket knife into his jacket, the guy i’d spoken with chuckled and shook his head. “when you see him though, tell him that it’s only fair.” 

“what is?”

“a life for a life.” 

i didn’t understand and it was clear by the look on my face. 

“he can’t just kill our top man and expect to get away alive.” 

[mushroomwillow]

Vent post

Got harassed at job that I was very skilled at. Very singled out by management who did it. Probably?? Because I started asking why the kid with severe ocd wasn’t receiving proper treatment??? Or getting accommodations?? Idk. It happened immediately after I started pushing for it.

Got new job. Working back of house at a new restaurant, literally opening the restaurant with with all new staff. Ngl kinda love it. Already made a really good friend who’s my age (fucking finally) and has a kid the same age as mine, and lives pretty close to me.

My knees fucking hate it tho. Like ngl im really concerned about it. I wear braces at work knowing my knees are bad. I had a really bad fall in early November out of nowhere and it fucked them up again and idk what to do about it. Tbh I might have to wear the stronger braces to work. I’m genuinely concerned rn. I get home and I’m limping and it feels like there’s a bubble in my right knee and that’s not even the one I hurt.

The pay is also fucking horrible. Idk what the tips are like yet. We get like 2-2.5% of sales and some % of the servers tips. Before that it’s $6 an hour. I’m extremely freaked out it’s not going to be enough.

My daughter is very much feeling the affects of us not spending enough time together. It’s fucking killing me. And with such shit pay and no idea how much the tips will cover I basically have to constantly be working.

However it’s 5 hrs instead of 8 a day. I actually seriously love the work. Nearly all the people (one I fucking cannot stand but so far she’s night shift and I’m about to be the bitch that goes to management ngfl). So idk what to do about that.

If I could somehow shorten it to 5 days a week instead of 6, and find a way to make money while having her with me that absolutely does not include driving (severe anxiety driving and what fucking 5yo likes to sit in a car for hours on end) then I’d do it. No idea how that’d work.

Sleep is pretty fucked up still. The holidays fucking suck absolute ass. My daughter has been having accidents again and just in general not sleeping well which makes her mood also not good,

The fucking holidays means no time to decompress. Yeah I’ve been sleeping most of the night save the time it takes to clean up after my daughter but it’s not restful at all. Decided to stay up this time honestly just to be alone and write this out. I’m cuddling with my cat rn.

Said cat has been very insistent on sitting directly on my chest lately which she didn’t used too. Fully refuses to let our other cat sit with me at all which is very strange. Very resource guarding? Idk?? Never had a cat so insistent that they sit with me and me alone except for when I was pregnant with my daughter, and I’m very much not pregnant. If I am then wtf body why tf am I have regular periods also I’m on birth control.

Went up on adderall and I have no idea if there’s any difference because I’m so involved with work. Like fully throw myself into it, do not have to think about anything else because it is non stop go. I get to turn my brain off. I do need to decompress tho holy shit. Just switch my brain back into like, idk real life mode? If that makes sense?? I also have no time to eat. I know that’s a major issue. I’ve already lost a ton of weight and my drs are super worried about it. Idk what to do tbh.

I miss talking to my friends and that is getting a little easier except when i have to see family because of the damn holiday. My babysitter is a god damned godsend. An absolute goddess of a woman who is so incredibly patient with me and my daughter. Idk how she manages with her 3 kids and my daughter with all my daughter’s behaviors rn. But god damn am I thankful. Out of all of this post this is what’s making me cry lmao. She’s very much my wifey as I like to call her and I wish we could actually hang out more than just over discord and the few moments when I pick up my daughter.

Idk when I’ll go back to bed. I’m exhausted and in pain. Headache and my body is killing me. But I’m so tired of my dreams. I feel like sleeping is just making the pain worse. I also just really want to be alone. I’m off today and I know I’ll be dead tired. But damn do I want quiet. Just total silence. And no light. I’d kid of like to draw but I’d have to turn on light and make noise to get my sketchbook and that sounds like a sensory nightmare rn

[stormkobra-5]

hi! could you please do prompt 17 with nathan?💖

Prompt: 17) softer muse makes the first move for sex and rides or tops the gruffer one who looks at them like they just found god + Nathan Bateman

Rating/Warnings: 18+ NSFW, Minors DNI, soft smut, I’ve never written for Nathan before/seen Ex Machina at all and it shows, Nathan is probably really OOC, I made this softer than I originally intended to tbh

It was never an easy ride, dating Nathan. In fact, you hadn’t even realized you’d been officially dating for at least a week— a series of maybe-dates and one-night-stands with your boss, maybe, because you didn’t think that Nathan could possibly be interested in one of his secretaries. He was an egotistical genius who couldn’t be bothered with other people because he considered himself such an intellectual and above them, in pretty much every single aspect. So the fact that you were an exception was surprising.

You still sometimes giggled at the fact that big, grumpy Nathan had thought you were good enough for him. Every time you mentioned it to him, he would scoff and give you a glare before mumbling something gruff under his breath.

Six months after realizing you were dating, he’d asked (or rather, decided without even asking you) for you to move in with him. He had all of your belongings brought to his seclusive, tech-y mansion, and he was buying you things. You think he maybe figured he was kind of like your sugar daddy; you didn’t like to believe that at all. You loved Nathan for who he was, not what he represented… although you so weren’t gonna complain about the Ferrari.

But you still needed to make sure that Nathan knew you cared about him, not his money— although you had to wait awhile after the Ferrari, so it didn’t seem like you were just thanking him.

You woke up with a beaming smile as you rolled over to face Nathan, who was, as always, already awake and doing something on his computer. “Morning,” You hummed as you crawled toward him.

“Morning,” Nathan mumbled, laying a hand on your head. It was the extent of his affection most mornings, unless he was horny or hungry. The thought made you giggle as you shimmied out from underneath his hand and snuggled closer to him, pawing at his computer. Nathan spared you an unamused glance. “...What is it?”

“Put that away,” You said, to which he raised an eyebrow. He thought it was cute when you tried (and always failed) to tell him that. “Please. Wanna talk to you.”

“Right after waking up?” Nathan scoffed in disbelief; but he was putting his computer away, which was a win. “This must be pretty important. You haven’t even had coffee yet. Or is that what you wanted?”

“Noooo,” You hummed as he scooted down the bed so that he could lay with you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, tugging him closer. “How would you feel about having a picnic today?”

Nathan pulled back with a grunt, eyes narrowed suspiciously at you. “...What do you want? Another car?”

“No!” You gasped, appalled. “I just wanna spend some time with my amazing boyfriend. Can’t I do that?”

Nathan hummed and went limp against you as you tried to hold him— it made the process of doing so extremely difficult, making you laugh a little as you wrapped yourself around him like a koala. A wonderful thing about Nathan was that no matter how tough he pretended to be, he could never say no to you. So after several minutes of him trying to figure out “what you wanted,” he eventually relented about having a picnic.

While one of Nathan’s androids made breakfast, you made lunch alongside it. Sandwiches, mostly, but you made sure they were healthy. You packed the basket, showered, and chose a nice outfit that you knew would drive him crazy— a cute little sundress with a comfortable jacket.

When it was finally time for the picnic, you first had to find Nathan. It seemed he’d conveniently disappeared now that the time had come, and as you searched the expanse of his house, you found no sign of your robot-building boyfriend.

The very last place you checked was the garage (with his like, fifteen cars). He was rarely ever there, so it was odd to find him there in casual clothes as he leaned against your go-to date car, scrolling through his phone. He didn’t even look up. “Took you long enough,” He taunted, pocketing his phone with a sigh.

You simply came to give him a peck on the cheek as he opened your door for you. “Such a gentleman,” You giggled, making him roll his eyes as he came around the front of the car.

Since you had packed the food, Nathan had apparently chosen your picnic location, which entailed a short drive and then a mild hike through some wooded areas. Nathan held the picnic basket for you, and you were hanging off his arm with a goofy grin on your face— Nathan would never admit it, but he liked this tenderness.

The walk led to a small, secluded clearing somewhere on his property. He’d ensured there would be no signs of hunters or hikers anywhere within a fifty mile radius when he’d first bought his house and all the surrounding acreage; he didn’t want anybody near him. He was called seclusive for a reason.

Except for you.

Somehow you’d gotten past literally all of his defenses and then had the fucking audacity to sit there looking pretty on one of your shared blankets on his property. Although he kind of considered it yours, too, a little bit. You did live here, after all.

You caught him staring at you and turned a beaming grin on him. “See something you like?”

Nathan only hummed and turned away. You bit your lip and crawled forward, coming to sit flush against his side, and stared at him until he got the hint. When he looked back at you, eyebrow raised, you had to bite back a giggle. “What?” Nathan huffed out.

You pecked his lips, earning a hum of consideration. You did it three more times, hands coming up to hold his face in your hands, until finally you pulled back to mock-glare at him. “How many more will it take to get you to kiss me back?”

Slowly, Nathan smirked. “As many as it took to get you to ask.” He surprised you by capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, cradling your head in one hand. Despite his demeanor, he kissed you gently, softly, like he might break you just by touching you.

Eventually the kisses became less innocent, and you pulled back a bit to nudge your nose into his. “How many more will it take for you to get horny?”

Nathan’s response made you giggle. “Huh?” With little effort, you pushed at him until he was laying on his back, with you straddling his hips. Nathan squirmed under you, not quite sure what to do. “Baby, we’re out in the middle of nowhere.”

“Exactly,” you whispered in his ear, and he couldn’t stop the moan he let out or his grip tightening on your hips. He wasn’t gonna lie: you being so assertive was an unexpected but definitely not unwanted event.

It wasn’t often that Nathan let himself give up control to you. In fact, he can’t remember a time yet that it’s happened fully. Except for now. Three hours later, he certainly isn’t regretting it, and he’s wondering why the fuck he never let you sooner.

“Babe?” Nathan grumbled into the crook of your neck. You hummed in question, to which he said, “...We need to go on more picnics.” He couldn’t help but smile when that made you laugh, pulling you closer to him.

[sxlver-sweet]

hello! if it’s not too much for you, can i request for (your choice of characrer) attending their s/o’s funeral. thank you!

— WHITE ROSES AND PROMISE RINGS </3

|| m.lists || taglist form ||

ROSTER . . . chifuyu matsuno

SYNOPSIS . . . angst part two to this request

CONTAINS . . . death, blood

NOTE . . . y’all need to leave me aLONE😭 my heart isn’t built for this shit. i still did it, though :D

the casket is closed.

it shouldn’t be.

this is all too soon.

this is all too soon.

this is all too soon.

his legs are numb as he slowly makes his way to your casket. he flinches when his fingertips glide over the lid. it’s icy to the touch, similar to the lack of warmth your body exhibited even when chifuyu had desperately wrapped you up in his toman jacket and rubbed feverishly at your limp arms, trying in vain to restore the warmth that had dwindled away more and more with each passing second.

acceptance is supposed to be easier, but how can it be so when all you can remember is how much pain and hysteria denial caused you?

his fingers are still calloused and sensitive from how long he’d sat there and rubbed your arms. god knows how long he would’ve stayed there. he only stopped when the paramedics arrived and a tarp was flung over your body. he hadn’t noticed that his fingertips were bleeding until he collapsed into the car waiting for him and accidentally smeared blood on the window… on the car seat… and even on his face when he irritably scrubbed his tears away.

he withdraws his hand from the casket.

in his other hand, he holds a single rose. it’s white, just like the color of your aura in his eyes. just like the chipped polish on your fingernails whose true hue was only revealed once all of the blood was washed away. just like the opalescent pendant on the necklace that chifuyu had gifted you for your two-year anniversary. he recalls having pricked his finger snipping the stem--ah, that’s right. the rose isn’t entirely pure. in the very center of the flower, a single droplet of blood dyes the petals scarlet, courtesy of chifuyu’s inept hand-eye coordination over the past couple weeks. he almost picked another flower, but he decided that for what you sacrificed, it wouldn’t be fair for you to be the only one who bleeds.

he places the flower on the casket amidst the arrangement of other vibrant bouquets. then, he fishes out something that he should’ve given you a long time ago, pressing his chapped lips to the cool silver in a gentle kiss before placing it next to the flower. it’s the promise ring that he’d been saving up money to buy for you. it’s simple and does not possess any illustrious design, but that’s okay. it’s for you, anyway. it’s for you both. a small piece of heaven, a piece of forever that belongs to the both of you and no one else.

well, it was supposed to belong to the both of you, anyway.

before… when there were two of you.

before… when there wasn’t an vacant ring finger that would spend eternity waiting for a silver band that would never arrive.

before… when you were alive.

now, he can only resign himself to watching it be buried amongst the offerings of the next people in line.

all the while fiddling with the matching ring looped around his finger, binding him to you and only you.

[russian-soft-bitch]

The Bullet

Jimmy Conway x reader

Requested by: anon. Hello, how are you, do yo write about Jimmy Conway (I'm in love with GF, great movie) The reader is Henry's sister (known as Miss Bullet) who loves crime since she was young and manipulative she has a cold heart, if she wants something, She gets it. She carries a gun in her purse. It's very bloody. A lot of people in Brooklyn owe her money She and Jimmy have an argument about power and he likes her

Warnings: crime, blood, murder

A/n: hope you like it love! sorry it took me sooooo long to write it but I really did my best and it's kinda good

It felt amazing. Money. Respect. Power. It didn’t come to you easily, not at all. You worked hard to get them. Yeah, you were Henry Hill’s sister, but you had a reputation of your own.

You were known as Miss Bullet. In the first place, it came with you always carrying a gun in your purse, for safety of course. But then it became related to your ability to shoot accurately. Never once were you caught doing what you did for a living. Never the evidence on a crime scene led police to you. There were a lot of crime scenes, let me tell you. It was what made you so successful. Half of Brooklyn owed you money, the other half was about to do that in the future.

You didn’t like to call yourself an assassin, you preferred to say, “I like to help people to solve their problems”. And you did help them, indeed. Even if their wives pretended as if they have never known you. You were okay with that; you were always around boys. They were the ones to bring you into the world of crime. Inevitable, really. Your brother was your best friend since you were born, so it was only natural to follow him everywhere. The places that were always considered forbidden for girls included. His friends taught you how to shoot, how to never leave evidence. And how to make money with those skills.

You never had any troubles with your missions. They were easy and fast all the time. Until that one mission. The man you were supposed to get rid of was smart enough to know of your arrival to his house. So, when you stepped into the house you were the one to end up with a bullet in you. Ironic, isn’t it? He wasn’t by all means a sharpshooter. He didn’t hurt you too badly, but you had a bullet in your thigh. You shot him there and then, of course. But you were in a desperate need of help. For the first time in years. Jimmy Conway was the first person who came into your mind that moment.

Making a phone call from the victim’s house would be a terrible mistake, so you spend a couple of minutes on limping your way to the nearest phone booth. Jimmy was quick to pick up the phone and was quite surprised to hear your voice. “Y/N? To what do I owe the pleasure?” You smiled a little through the pain.

Jimmy was always your favorite. He was the one you had this strange connection with. You were the most comfortable in his presence (aside your brother) but, at the same time, felt unusually shy around him. Henry could tell you liked him, a lot, but the thought of the significant age gap downed on you every time you thought about it.

Jimmy was the one you could trust no matter what. He was the most reliable person in your close circle of friends. And you knew you were able to call any time and he would help you with anything.

“There were some unforeseen circumstances. I need your help. And it would be lovely to receive this help in the shortest amount of time, if possible. Please.”

Jimmy was there in 4 minutes. Too fast, even for such a late hour. You got into his car and gave him a fleeting smile. “Thank you, Jimmy. And I need a little bit of help with that, too”, you pointed at your bloodied dress and lifted it a little, showing the wound. He was quick to drive you to his place.

“What the hell happened? You never had any troubles”, Jimmy was searching for the necessities in his first aid kit while you were getting rid of the stocking you wore. You were sure it was more painful than getting shot; blood has already dried. “Someone ratted me out, I guess. It’s okay, I’ll deal with it.”

“You’ve done enough. Your so-called power will lead you nowhere”

“So-called? Jimmy, I am powerful. That,” you pointed to your leg. “Was just an accident.”

“Yeah, an accident you want me to fix” he looked at you crossly.

“I don’t want you fix it, I just need a little help. You know how Hen’s gonna react, I’m not risking it.”

Jimmy started to treat your wound. It wasn’t too bad, but you still clenched the armrest of the chair you were sitting on so hard that your knuckles turned white.

“Or do you have a problem with powerful women?” you said quietly.

“Only if it’s you. It’s putting you to a lot of danger.”

“And why do you care exactly? And, please, don’t say all that bullshit about me being your friend’s little sister. It never makes sense.”

“It’s not that, don’t worry.”

“What then?”

He just looked up at you and you suddenly understood.