#CRYING WEEPING SOBBING/POS

[justmwahstruly]

IM FUCKING CRYING DAWG THANK YOU

NOT THE WAY MY JAW DROPPED.

UHH YOURE WELCOME?? SLSJSKDKSJDJDBXBYKS DIES/POS

[bbeeohazardd]

height of my year so far

[the-spider-in-your-livingroom]

Can i draw fanart of sound and my scrunko?

AAA OF COURSE!! GO RIGHT AHEAD ToT I'D BE SO HONORED FHTGBFD

[lunapegasus]

I don’t know if I said this already but I love the way you draw Rouge

thank you sm 🥺🥺🥺 <3

[kageprokinfessions]

KAGEPROKINFESSIONS REAL!!! welcome back! hands u a flower :-)

[ebi-noodle-doodles]

youve probably gotten a bunch of asks like this already, im certain; but as a vocaloid fan who's pretty heavy-set. i fucking Adore your miku art. sobbing weeping throwing up etc /lh pos

We are cute! (also pls dont cry and throw up!) -Miku ((also thank you, I love Vocaloid sm its part of my childhood)

[kairiscorner]

TANGINAAAAAAA ok po ate @binibinileonara :>

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

stem boyfriend!miguel o'hara x reader (comforting you)

the stifling of your sobs worsened the more you dwelled on the disappointed looks of your professor after your group presentation this morning. you forced your groupmates to pick up their slack, but like all groupmates, their brains all tell them to shove all their work to you. you tried your hardest to do all the work and not argue anymore with them since they don't even know what they're doing, but you can only salvage your group so much. you sobbed louder as you hid underneath your blanket, hoping your roommate wouldn't come in and witness you weeping over something that you can't change already.

the door to your room opened, and you immediately tried to cover up the fact you've been crying by curling up in your bed–pulling the covers up to conceal your tears. the aroma of instant noodles with your favorite add-ons and spices filled the room as your boyfriend came in and sat down on your bed next to you. "i heard you weren't feeling well after that crap earlier, i'm sorry about that." he said as he handed you the cup of noodles he made for you; the steam coming from the food elicited more tears from you, not ones of sadness, but more like ones of pity.

you thanked him as he nodded and watched you eat up what he made for you. you choked out cries as you ate about how good it was, though still feeling utterly horrible about what transpired in class, but miguel didn't want you to keep thinking about that; he wanted to cheer you up, but it seemed food wouldn't be enough right now.

"c'mere," miguel said as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and held you close. you leaned against him as he kissed the top of your head and rubbed your shoulder comfortingly. he asked you if you wanted to rewatch some episodes of your favorite show, even though he found that show corny and unrealistic, he was more than willing to watch with you. "you can sit on my lap while we watch, rant to me even while we're watching." he said as he ran his hand through your hair.

you sniffled at how comforting he was being towards the mess that was you right now. "but... you cooking for me is... it's too much already, really i'm..." you stammered, but miguel smiled at you and held you closer. "and i'll always wanna be too much for you. but in my opinion, it's never too much for you to just be comforted after a bad day. i love you, and i know you're struggling, so... let me take up some of your burdens and worries, yeah?" he said as he kissed your tear-stained cheek.

he was more than willing to do everything in his power, and even beyond that if he could, to make sure you'd be smiling in a few hours despite the bad stuff that happened today. he'd do this again and again for you, even if he doesn't seem like the type to do that, you'll always get this kind of sweet treatment from him. because no matter what, he's your boyfriend first, everything else that he is–snarky, cold, sarcastic–he'll set that ego and pride of his aside to see you smile again.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @fiannee @fictarian @yuridopted0 @arachnoia @ophanimgold

[bunniekittiee]

heaven beside you- johnny slaughter x reader

Warning: DEAD DOVE, suicidal reader, suicide, abuse, Johnny is a POS again.

18+ MDNI

The gentleness in those rough, calloused hands sickened her to the core. The same hands that mutilated her friends in cold blood were the same ones he used to give her pleasure, abuse her, caress her. He feigned innocence at the beginning of her capture, always being sweet with that Southern talk he made to reel her in. Made her fall in love. But that innocence rotted away like her friends did in that basement. As time passed, he began to show more and more of his untrustworthiness. He was only gentle when he wanted something from her, and she had no other choice but to obey.

It was hard when the only person she relied on was a monster. A monster who raked his claws into her body, savoring her taste and licking his chops. The monster that stared at her with steel, cold eyes. No signs of fondness. He only wanted her for himself, making sure the others knew she was not for them. It was isolating.

It took a toll. Eventually she slept through many hours of the day, barely awake when he was ravaging her body. Sleep was an escape, she dreamed of what could not be. She saw her friends, happy in a field of flowers, sunflowers. When she was dreaming, the emptiness dissipated. But as soon as she opened her eyes, realizing she was not with her friends or family, it seeped back into her body.

She was always tired. Tired of being stuck in that decaying room, tired of being chained up like a rabid animal, tired of being a play thing for a murderous man, tired of this life. She wanted to move on, she was not welcome in this life anymore as it had been overridden with tangled weeds. It was not hers anymore. But he noticed that his little bunny was not who she once was.

“Why are ya’ always sleepin’?” he asked her one day, tapping her face with an open palm. “Ya’ always asleep when I see ya’. I miss ya’.”

But she knew he did not miss her. The serpent was speaking his lies again into her ear, just as the serpent convinced Eve to eat the Forbidden Fruit. She did not reply back, she stared at him with vacant eyes. And he stared back.

The routine had changed up for the first time one day. Instead of Johnny bringing her a plate of an unknown meat that made her queasy, it was Bubba. He sauntered in, a little nervous and she perked up immediately. Bubba was one of the more “nicer” ones of the family as he did not make an effort to make her more miserable. He grunted as he set the plate down, glancing at her.

“Hey,” she rasped.

Bubba looked at her, tilting his head slightly for her to continue.

“I have a favor to ask.”

He side-eyed the door, afraid Johnny would come in and see them interacting. Bubba heeded his warning and stayed away from his prisoner because he was afraid of what Johnny would do. He groaned worriedly.

“Kill me.” she said as she crawled to him. “Kill me now. Please, please put me out of my misery.” Her eyes were glossy, the first signs of emotion she had shown in a long time.

Bubba began to sound frantic. He shook his head quickly, stepping back away from her.

“Please, you don’t understand. I need to die. There is no other way to this, please kill me.” she begged. “That’s all I’m asking for.”

Shaking his head again, Bubba turned to leave the room. He ignored her weeping so he did not feel guilty. But he did anyways, he did not want her to cry. He felt like he was at fault for her outburst.

She cried just like she did when she realized all of her friends were dead. She sobbed for the girl who died in her, now left with an empty shell of a used, broken body. The boy did not play with his toys nicely, he liked to break them into pieces and glue them back together, only to break them again. Break the brittle porcelain and smile at the mess he made.

The thoughts of suicide never left her head. There was a lot of time to ponder and think about it before she was taken back to her sanctuary she created in her brain.

Johnny knew he broke her, and he viewed it as a success. To him, it was his usual game. Why show mercy for a play thing? He never played nice, he was known for that. Sometimes he wondered if it was even a good idea to have her in the first place, but he was reminded of the goodness of it when he sank inside of her. Nancy often pestered him to kill the girl, but he was not finished with her. She was an unfinished art project that needed a few more touches. Just as Bubba made masks and Nubbins snapped pictures, Johnny was an artist in his own way. He enjoyed defiling women and turning them inside out. The empty eyes of a broken spirit stroked his ego and made his body tingle in excitement. He got off on making individuals miserable, cackling at their pleas and the fresh, hot blood that spilled from the crevices of their corpse.

She felt like a corpse herself. The bunny stopped fighting when trapped in the jaws of the wolf, she accepted her fate. She wished he had killed her like he did her friends. They would be rotting together, whether it was in the bellies of her captors or where they disposed what was left of them. Johnny mocked her when she cried for her friends. He slapped her and told her to “close her damn lips before he glued them together”. The tears continued to fall, but the cries were quieted down in fear of him. He liked to throw his intimidation around and terrorize her when he could. Whether it was waving body parts in her face, forcing her to eat “jerky”, cutting into her body with his knife, or abusing her repeatedly, Johnny took pride in his creation. Sometimes he took pictures of her and stashed them away for his own viewing. She was his pretty girl, his own art piece.

There was a thought that crossed her mind that God did not shine his light upon the hellish beast that the Sawyers called “home”. Within it, it felt void of any saving, and with the amount of times she cried for the Lord, he did not answer back. The only Lord that answered her calls was his creation of man who laughed in her face.

“Ya’ think God is going to save ya’?” he giggled as he waved the knife in her face. “God doesn’t do any savin’ around here, the only God ya’ worship is me. There ain’t no God that will touch this place, for the Devil already marked it as his sanctuary.”

Debating on her thoughts, she stared at the ceiling unblinking as he slept peacefully next to her. Her lower half throbbed from his perverted touch and she could not sleep. Her brain was running a thousand miles per hour, wishing and hoping for a new beginning. Maybe she could grant herself that, she deserved it after all she put up with him. Her skin burned when he fondled her, like a demon would when a crucifix was placed upon their skin. The Devil snored quietly next to her like a predator would with his prey confined between its jowls. She wondered if he awakened during his slumber to watch her.

Maybe God did watch upon this Hell. Johnny released her from her restraints, saying she had been doing very good lately and would be granted just a small fraction of freedom. She was grateful, but her brain worked at the many ways she could leave. She felt guilty for feeling this way because some part of her loved him. When he was gentle for only mere moments, he kissed her softly, he smiled at her with amusement, he cuddled her close to him and left small kisses along her throat. Those times he did that, she wanted to stay. She wanted it to be like that forever. But just as quick as he could kill, he was just as quick at switching his moods. When he laid kisses upon her throat, he bit down to draw blood and shock her. When he kissed her, he chewed at her lip roughly and sucked on her blood. When he smiled at her, his smile morphed into an evil, dark smile. When he cuddled her, he dug his fingernails into her soft body and left claw marks. It reminded her that he was not someone to love, but someone to be terrified of.

It was a chilly November evening. They sat at the table together to eat dinner with the rest of the family. They studied her as she chewed slowly to prevent herself from getting sick. They were not used to her sitting at the table with them to eat after Johnny had kept her away from them for so long. However, he made it clear to not talk to you. You were only his, they did not need to converse with you. Sissy annoyed Johnny about it, getting under his skin on purpose and smiling at his clenched fists and the sharp clatter of his utensils. Bubba stole small glances at you but avoided your gaze. It was better he did not look, he did not want to anger the beast. Nubbins and Chop Top giggled at the table as they watched your frightened form shake as Johnny became more angry. He was like a bomb ready to explode as the vein in his forehead throbbed and his jaw clenched.

Dinner was a long ordeal, and it was very tense with the way the family continued to irritate the Slaughter boy. She was fearful. She knew that once the door to his room closed, he would devour her. And she was scared for the first time in a while. Clenching her wrist, he dragged her from her chair and upstairs, making her stumble along the steps as he hurriedly pulled her with him. His grip was tight, and it activated the rope burns that had melted into her skin like wax.

Throwing her into the room, he slammed the door shut. His breathing was uneven as his eyes glistened with animosity.

“All of this is your fuckin’ fault.” he spat as he wrenched a hand into her scalp. “If ya’ hadn’t come around here in the first place, I wouldn’t have ta’ hear my family’s yappin’.

She stayed silent. It was best to not argue back. He never took it too lightly.

“They want me to kill ya’. They wonder all the time why I haven’t killed ya’. I’m not so sure myself either.” Johnny bore into her soul. “There ain’t no other purpose to ya’ besides fuckin’ the stupidity out of ya’ and usin’ ya.”

Glistening with tears, her eyes did not let them fall. She knew this already. She knew he did not love her. He never meant anything he said. Yet, it hurt her, it deeply punctured her heart. She felt herself losing the ability to breathe as her heart cracked, her mind replaying his words over and over.

“If I had to do it all over again, I would have kept your other friend instead of ya. Or I would have killed ya’.” He watched to see her reaction to his words, but she did not want to give him the satisfaction. He enjoyed hurting her. But she could not hold back.

“I hate you.” she cried out. “I fucking hate you.”

He laughed. “Not as much as I fucking hate ya.” He pushed her onto the ground. “Did ya’ really think I loved ya’? Seriously, what ever gave ya’ that idea?”

“I don’t know, Johnny, maybe all the times you told me I was your ‘pretty girl’ or the times you actually treated me like a normal human being!” she screamed, her tears flowing down her face as he watched her breakdown. “You are fucked in the head. You are insane!”

“Tell me somethin’ I don’t know, bitch.” he replied as he began to take his belt off. “I don’t like this attitude ya’ suddenly developed.”

Rage. Rage filled her entire body to the brim and radiated off of her. She had so much pent up anger and she did not care what he did to her. She wanted him to be pissed, to be distraught just like her.

“Fuck you, you fucking dick!”

Johnny snapped his belt and frowned. “Bad decision, Y/N.”

She never received corporal punishment as a child, for she was a good girl. Even if she did cause issues, her parents did not believe in hitting their child. So she never experienced it before, until now. The belt cut into her skin as he slammed it onto her body repeatedly. Sometimes it got her face, her arms, her legs, her stomach, wherever he could hit. She tried to back up but she hit the wall, and he stepped closer to her. She wailed in pain and anger, like a pissed off cat in heat.

Kicking her feet out, she struck his shin. Hissing in pain, he threw the belt to the side. “Oh ya’ gonna’ get it now, ya’ fuckin’ bitch.”

“Fuck you.” she said sternly, not backing down. “Fuck you and your whole family.”

She could barely remember his fist colliding with her face. She thrashed her body around, kicking her limbs wildly as she did so. She hoped it would hurt him just as her nose ached from his punch. Warm blood poured and smeared across her face as he landed another punch on her face. Another one went into her ribs, knocking the wind out of her. She wheezed and she felt her lungs squeeze every last bit of air out. He was not done, but she was tired of it. He had done this long enough.

Charging up her elbow, she slammed it into his crotch. Johnny chomped down on his lower lip, immediately tasting iron in his mouth as he felt himself go dizzy. His face felt hot and the nausea tensed his stomach up. Getting into his knees, he tried to fight the nausea away. His vision was blurry as he could see her get up quickly from the floor and dash to the door. He reached out to grab her but failed, falling onto his face. His attempts of crawling were futile as he had to wait out his pain. He was pissed, but he could not act out due to the fact he could not walk currently. That bitch was going to pay.

The bunny hopped down the stairs while holding her ribs, her wide eyes searching for an exit point. She knew she could not escape with the condition she was in, but she knew that she could leave her vessel behind. The rest of the family were nowhere to be seen so far.

Sprinting out the back door the best she could, she made her way to one of the sheds they had. If Johnny could tie her up, then she knew they had what she was looking for. She was terrified of Johnny finding her. However, this life was not for her anymore. It had been consumed by the wolf and she could not take it anymore. He was so selfish. So vain.

Johnny stumbled to his feet, his sensitive area throbbing in pain and the nausea still present in his stomach. Walking down the stairs, he clenched his jaw tightly. He was going to sniff out his prey again and maybe this time end it once and for all. She had given him enough grief and caused too much turmoil in his life since she decided to come along. He noticed the back door was cracked and the demented smile that came upon his face hurt.

With very little moon light shining upon the shed, she had some difficulty finding what she needed. However, her hands wrapped around the coarse thickness of it. Rope. She chuckled sadly. This is what it had come down to. Her only exit out of this place that gave her full control of her body once again. She did not know what that felt like anymore.

She peeked her head out the door to see if Johnny had come outside, but she did not see any sign of him. Now, she only had to climb up a tree and tie the knot. Quietly walking, she crouched and carved her pathway to the one of the bigger trees that could support her decision without stopping her from doing so. Sometimes, branches were weak. Here and there, she heard rustling in the bushes which made her heart race and her hair stand on end, but she continued to make her way to the tree. Then, she finally heard him.

“Hey there!” he cackled from the back door, eyes glistening with rage. “Where do ya’ think you’re goin’?”

She took off running towards the tree, hoping and praying that she could make it in time to climb before he could. He was still a little a ways from her and it would take him a bit longer to get to her since she had hurt him. But she knew it wouldn’t be long.

“Get back here!” Johnny yelled as he started stomping towards her.

With some difficulty, she crawled up the tree like a tarantula escaping the sight of a human being. Her lungs ached, the cuts stung, her nose was sticky with blood, and she was exhausted. She glanced back and saw that Johnny was still making his way to her. She still had a bit of time. She settled in the highest trees branch that even Johnny would not be able to cut her down from the ground.

She moved her hands as fast as she could, tying the knots and securing it tightly. This would not fail her. She was going to get out of here. Not alive, but she would be reunited with her friends once again. Frolicking in a field of sun flowers together and laughing at random nonsense. Her eyes watered with tears as she began to laugh manically. Balancing on the tree branch, she began to walk to the edge of it to tie the end of it to the thick branch.

Johnny could not tell what she was holding in her hands, but he was extremely frustrated that he could not move any faster because of how much pain he was in. He tried running, but it hurt badly. The bitch really got to him, got the upper hand on him. He neared the tree but still had difficulty making out what she was holding or going to do.

Her success was nearing within the minutes. She looked down and saw Johnny was getting much closer now, so she had to act fast. Sliding her neck through the knot, she studied the ground as the tree branch creaked from the weight. Tears fell as she smiled. She would be free. She would be with her friends again. She would be at peace. No more Johnny. No more cannibalism. No more crazy families or bloodbaths. No more hurt. No more pain. She was looking forward to it. Lifting one foot and hanging it off the edge, she smiled once more before plunging down.

Johnny’s heart stopped. His breathing hitched as he heard that familiar cracking sound. The sound of a broken ligament. His eyes settled upon her hanging body, unmoving. He could not move right away. His body did not let him.

Until he let out a scream of agony, one that a person would hear from a mountain lion in the woods. It echoed back to him, the night sky glittered with stars taunting him. She was too far up for him to reach her from where he was at, so he hurriedly climbed up the tree. He forgot the pain in his crotch, what hurt more was the pain in his heart. One that he buried a long time ago.

He shimmied along the branch and slipped out his knife, sawing away at the rope. He felt like he was going to faint. Her body toppled to the ground with a sickening thud, but Johnny knew. He knew she was not there anymore. She was just a corpse now. But he wanted to believe that she was still there. Practically jumping off the tree, he raced to her body and fell to his knees, running his hands over her body to feel her heart beat. A sign of life. Yet there was nothing, nothing reflected back to him.

“Why…” he whispered. “Why did ya’ abandon me like this?”

Picking up her body carefully, he cradled her close to him. Something he never did when she was alive. Her head was moved to an unnatural position as the rope had snapped parts of her vertebrae and neck.

Sissy had heard his cry of pain, but she was not ready to be faced with her family member holding their “lover’s” body. Staring at the girl’s corpse, she opened her mouth to say something but Johnny pushed past her. He was shaking, whether it was from rage, sadness, or anguish, Sissy was not sure. But she was sure that the woman he held was not alive anymore. The rope burned itself into her neck and colored it blue and black. The girl’s face was pale, eyes hazed over with no signs of life.

“She… she abandoned me.” Johnny said as he laid her body on the table. “She abandoned me.”

Sissy stood in the door way when Nancy came into the dining room. Her eyes laid upon the body and she sighed. “I told ya’ she was a bad idea.”

Johnny’s eyes were glossy. “Mama… why did she abandon me? She left me…”

“Well sweet pea, her and ya’ other mother have somethin’ in common.” she replied flatly. “There ain’t no sense in worrying about it. She was just a girl. Nothin’ special about her.”

“She was my girl.”

“Yes, and so were about fifty other ones too.”

He stayed silent. His brain ran wildly. Why did she leave him like this? His biological mother left him too, just like Nancy said. Left him near a garbage bin to rot away. But Nancy, savior Nancy, saved the young boy.

Now, who would save him from this? He did not want another woman right now, he wanted the one he had adjusted to. He wanted her. But she was laying upon the dining room table with pallid, bruised skin and a broken spine. He wanted to cry but he did not allow himself to. Not here, not now.

“It’s best to forget her, boy. She was nothin’ but trouble. It was bound to happen, Johnny. Ya’ cant trust anyone outside of family. Otherwise, ya’ will be abandoned over and over.” Nancy said as a final warning to her son. “It’s not your fault, ya’ can’t control who leaves ya’.”

Her words stabbed into his heart. Johnny knew he was easy to abandon. His mother did it first, and now she did it. It made him feel helpless, like he had no control of his life.

Nancy left the room and Sissy continued to watch as Johnny picked the stiff body up and began to slowly tread up the stairs, his footsteps sounding haunting. She felt herself hurting as well. She was not sure why, but she did.

Treating her with more gentleness than he did when she was alive, he carefully settled her onto the mattress. The mattress she laid on waiting for him to come back from his chores. The mattress she slept with him on. Now, she was nothing but a memory.

“Why did ya’ abandon me?” he choked out, feeling like his younger self wondering why his biological mother left him to die. “What made ya’ think you could do that?”

No response.

“You left me…”

Silence.

Revolting silence.

“Why did you do this to me?”

[unknownarmageddon]

killer felt terrible. horrible. like he'd been gutted a thousand times over, hollowed out so painfully and violently that it left a gaping pit of hurt in his chest that tightened every time he thought about cross.

he didn't understand what he'd done wrong. except he did, but he didn't get it. cross wanted space. that was okay.

but it wasn't okay, because space meant being alone, and killer didn't like being alone, especially after having cross so close to him for so long. they'd spent some nights tangled together in a sweet embrace, exchanging kisses as easily as they did breath, sharing thousands of words between their souls, he'd let cross touch his soul, he'd felt cross's. cross had held him through some of his worst lv breaks, had wiped his face of liquid negativity when it hurt killer to even think of moving. he'd wrapped killer up in his arms, and when he couldn't do that, he'd wrapped him up with his coat.

so why, why, when killer worded the feeling he knew cross felt mutually, he'd heard it from cross's very soul that night, why was cross pushing him away?

why is he losing the one thing, the one person he had left to love, simply for daring to speak it aloud? it wasn't fair.

a surge of anger left a bitter taste in killer's mouth, but if left just as quickly as it came, lingering only as some sour aftertaste, like biting into an overripe mango. he wanted to be angry, because surely he didn't deserve this treatment? he had done nothing wrong.

but he didn't know what cross felt about it, how cross saw it, how cross heard it.

killer couldn't stop replaying it in his mind. he recalled it all just as vividly as it had been happening. cross's sleeping bag was stiflingly hot, his hands even hotter, every inch of them pressed together tightly, seeking out touch readily given. cross knew how to kiss, it always left killer's head feeling fuzzy and warm, and it had felt even more so then with every renewed kiss. they broke apart, gasping into each other's mouths and killer hadn't even thought about it, hadn't considered what he was doing, simply blurting it out when cross went to reclaim his mouth.

it was such a simple phrase. three simple little words, that shattered everything killer held dear and near to his broken, faulty soul. it drove cross away. cross.

he'd never loved anyone, not like this, not this much, and it was heaven turned to hell when cross was suddenly five feet away at all times, silent, cold, all but ignoring him, and it left killer shivering through the warm summer nights.

it was unfair.

-p :]

WEEPING WAILING SOBBING. CRYING EVEN

WHAT THE FUCK WHAT WHAT

OHHH MY GOD DUDE HOLY SHIT

Weeping head in hands

/pos/pos/pos I fucking love this one actually laying dead on the floor

[8-rae-rae-8]

NO WAIt that's great I love soft, caring Konig so much. price being injured and having to spend some time in medical and Simon is not coping well. He wants baba but he's not allowed to enter medical until it's all clear. He curls up in Price's bed, sobbing and weeping for baba to come and slips to super tiny ( like 0-1 ) Konig by chance passing by and hearing soft cries and sobs from Price's room (wait what - isn't price in medical??) he opens the unlocked door and finds a very distressed, weepy and deeply regressed Simon. using his inhuman strength, he scoops Simon up in his arms and allows the weepy baby to cry in his shoulder. He pats and rubs Simon's back and whispers calming words "There, There Schnucki (sweetie) Baba's okay...he just need some rest...shhh shh I know...I know..." Rocking Simon slightly and Patting his back as he lets the baby weep.

I LOVE THEM. RAHHHHHH

THATS SO GOOD.

Him cradling Simon as he cried into him.

I can imagine Simon being able to curl up in König's slightly larger form and finding comfort in being able to actually sink into the touch rather than being timid about being too big for someone's lap

UGH. /pos

[karmas-chameleon]

Chapter 9 is done! Not gonna post the whole thing here, it's on Ao3 if anyone wants it, but here's the best part

My gaze fell to the ground along with some unnameable feeling in the pit of my stomach. Somehow, I hadn't been able to explain myself. He still didn't understand. My words, or my mind, weren't enough to express what I wanted to, and that was all it took to break the dam blocking off my swelling emotions, after I'd brushed aside every little crack that tried to warn me. I felt my body start to move against my will, my lips trembling and my eyes tearing up. The opportunity to talk my way through my experience was pulled from me as I sniffled loudly - no longer the functioning adult I'd worked so hard to put together, but the pathetic child that I feared would be seen.

I felt an arm wrap around me, heard something hit the pavement, and another arm pulled me close. Not an hour ago, in nearly the same position, I was incapable of speech. After a date full of overwhelming emotions, I could only sob.

“It's alright,” Manfred said softly. “It's alright.”

He held me tight, rocking gently, shushing me, and whispering comfort. I could understand his words, up to a point, and when his voice changed to a sing-song cadence, I realized he'd stopped speaking English. Still my tears flowed, and my breath hitched in my throat as I tried in vain to control myself, weeping and sniffling beneath the words of a German lullaby.

My tears eventually had to run out, though it felt like they'd keep going forever. And whatever dripped from my nose eventually stopped coming out as well, but it seemed my body might actually have a limitless supply of that. It covered my nostrils, then lips, then chin, and I didn't want to look at where it fell next. On any other day, getting snot on Manfred's clothing would've been the worst of my worries. But I had far bigger problems to take on.

I sat up straight, pulling away but still staring down at the ground. I saw a handkerchief enter the corner of my vision, and took it. An attempt was made to clean up my face, though I knew from experience that just wiping my nose did very little. I'd seen this same face in mirrors before, at school, at home, at my old job. The bloodshot eyes, the red, swollen skin - it was a face I wished for nobody to witness, not even me, and especially not others.

“I'm…sorry,” I whispered. My voice came out thin and trembling, and far less confident than I'd hoped. It was almost enough to make me start crying again.

“There's no need to apologize.” Manfred lay his hand over mine, squeezing gently as I held onto his snot-filled handkerchief. “There never was.”

“I-it's just-” I sniffled, “a lot. Everything is.”

“Hmm?”

“When…whenever I touch you, it's- it makes me feel a lot of…stuff. And when we talk, and when I look at you, and everything- and it's just,” I wiped at my eyes, “...too much, sometimes.”

“You’re overwhelmed. Overstimulated.”

“Uh-huh,” I nodded.

“Is there anything you need? If there's any way I can help, I will.”

“I just need…time, I think.” I slumped against Manfred's shoulder and closed my eyes, finally capable of taking a deep breath.

I focused on the sounds around me. The birds chirping in the trees and the wind whistling through the branches calmed me, while the sound of nearby human activity made me worry about just how many people may have passed by in the middle of my meltdown. And it still wasn't over, not quite. I could feel myself cooling off, but I wouldn't be back to normal until I got to my apartment, turned off all the lights, and took a long nap. Even then, ‘normal’ would still be painfully relative - my normal, but not the normal. Such a quality was out of my reach.

“I'm glad you told me,” Manfred said quietly, “even if you may not feel the same way. I realize it must've taken a good deal of courage.”

I nodded wordlessly into his shoulder.

“And it reminds me how I should treat you.”

My heart sank. This was the beginning - the pity, the babying, the ‘you poor thing’ looks that I'd dreaded.

“With politesse, and chivalry, as a gentleman ought to. Taking things slowly, and always requesting permission rather than assuming. And no more messing around trying to fluster you, as amusing as it may be.” 

I felt him squeeze my hand again, and sighed with relief. “Thank you…Manfred.”

“Of course, Miss Martin.”

[strictpunishedhubby]

Es ist traurig aber wahr, ich gehorche nur dann meiner Frau und erfülle korrekt meine häuslichen Pflichten, wenn ich weiß es steht  mir mal wieder eine schmerzhafte Züchtigung bevor, oder ich habe eine weitere zu erwarten. Und das, obwohl ich ständig beschämender Unterwäsche anhabe, die mich eines besserem belehren und an artiges Verhalten ständig erinnern soll.

Ich muss mich deshalb nicht wundern, wenn  meine Frau, oft  mehrmals die Woche meinen nackten Po durchprügelt, mich zur Besinnung in die Ecke stellt, mir Hausarrest mit frühen Bettzeiten auferlegt, auch wenn diese Zusatzstrafen meist bei ungezogene Kinder und Jugendlichen angewendet werden. Ich benehme mich halt oft wie ein kleiner, frecher Bengel. Meine Züchtigungen ertrage ich auch nicht wie ein Mann, sondern sie erfolgen immer mit  lauten Weinen und kläglichen Geschrei. Schluchzen und Weinen ist sogar noch lange Zeit, während ich mit heruntergezogenem Schlüpfer in der Ecke stehe, von mir zu hören, obwohl ich weiß wie erbärmlich ich mich mal wieder anstelle. 

.

.

It is sad but true, I only obey my wife and properly perform my domestic duties when I know I am about to face another painful punishment, or have to expect another. And that's despite the fact that I'm always wearing embarrassing underwear that's supposed to teach me otherwise and constantly remind me of good behavior. So I don't have to be surprised when my wife, who often beats my bare buttocks several times a week, stands me in the corner to reflect and imposes house arrest with early bed times, even if these additional punishments are mostly used for naughty children and adolescents. I often behave like a cheeky little brat. I don't endure my punishments like a man, but they always come with loud weeping and pitiful shouting. Sobbing and crying can still be heard from me for a long time even during I stand in the corner with my knickers pulled down, even though I know how pathetic I am behaving again.

[statics-radio]

patrick bateman x fem reader

A present for my shawty bae @ppsychokillerr enjoy it cunt /pos

Note: i think i got a taaad bit into my feelings and ended up in a whole differ movie but its too early here for me to redo this crap

Y/n, a dark woman of unquestionable ability, stood alone on the beach, gazing over the royal blue water with her haunted sorrel orbs. Her obsidian hair danced lightly in the ocean breeze, tickling against one cheek as she tried to deny the stirrings in her heart, resting her cheek against one hand as she traced a finger along her silver necklace. She wore a brick-colored tank top, her shoulders a beautiful hazel in the sun, and sepia shorts that looked comfortable and easy to wear.

Her starless strands brushed against her shoulders, complementing her mournful russet visage. A prominent scar stood out on her sorrel skin.Her thoughts wandered to her days in patrick's company. On that day, the shadows of her past had become unbearable. Meeting patrick bateman brought some light into her life for the first time in a long while. He was her salvation. From then on, Y/n was sometimes needy and close, but then suddenly cold and fearful. patrick also behaved strangely, one moment adoring, scathing the next. That was how it was to this very day.

Y/n," He said simply with no trace of emotion. His brunet crystals complimented his auburn hair, kept masculinely short, belying his pained heart. He was dressed in his usual everyday clothes. He had a toned but slender body covered with healthily color-touched milky skin. As Y/n drew nearer, she caught a note of his familiar scent of lingering iron and steel. Her globes softened. It always reminded her of the time they shared.

"patrick. I feared you might not come," Y/n whispered." I don't know why I bothered," he murmured. She lowered her pools, down and away back toward the sapphire sea. "Then maybe you should go, I'm sure your very busy.." A pause. "No." He brushed his hand against hers, almost as if by accident. "Come y/n." Neither of them spoke for some time. It wasn't uncommon for them -- they'd exchange poker-faced glances and walk in silence for hours, until finally, they somehow touched, and overwhelmed by pain and loneliness they would turn to each other. It was no different this time. They had tracked halfway down the shore, down to where a cliff rose to block their progress, before Y/n turned to patrick and whispered, "I waited a long time for today. I... I missed you a lot." He didn't say anything. "It's like I told you before. You're all I have...."She sought out one of patrick bateman's hands with hers, but he drew away. "Just be quiet." With an agonized glance, Y/n let her hand drop. "Every time. Cry, cry, cry. That's all you do." Stricken, Y/n turned away and began to weep.

Each sob was a blow against his will and heart. At last he took a deep breath and dictated, "Stop. ... Please. You... you have no idea what effect you have on me." He voice cracked near the end. "Why are you like this to me.." Y/n whispered. "I... I don't understand. I need you, patrick. I'd do anything for you, but you still treat me this way...." She folded her arms across her chest and took a shuddering breath. "D-do you hate me, patrick?" His heart sunk at the question. "What if I did?" he mused. "I would fall apart," she whispered. "I would have no reason to be." She waited for some kind of reassurance that it wasn't true, that it would never be, but it didn't come. She bowed her head. She should've known better than to expect such a display from him. Instead, he took a few steps toward the cliff and arced his head to gaze up its height. "If I could be as open as you," he pondered, "I would consider myself lucky.""Please let me in," Y/n wept. "Please, just let me see what you see, feel what you feel. Please let me become apart of you.."

She waited as waves crashed against the cliff before draping her arms across him. They basked in each other's quiet companionship for a few moments.

He mumbles words almost lost to tbe waves as he grabs the hand on him. "How..how can you stand being with me?" He swars he could almlst feel her smile as she whislers "Because your my world losing you would be death.."

[libertys-lovers]

The amount of brainrot I’m having over my F/Os is absolutely RIDICULOUS 😭😭😭 / pos

GAMMA’S still in my brain-space! KARA’S reclaiming his throne in there-! Flug and Red decided to come in out of nowhere, while Sniper & Gary & Sasha have slowly been invading me with their various forms of propaganda.

I’m gonna sob! I’m gonna cry!! Perhaps I’m gonna even weep and nae nae!!! I can’t even get it out of my system ‘cause idk what to pOST ABOUT RAAAAHHHHHH

…

i need to smooch them all on the lips immediately

[weepingalaxy]

AAAAAA ALL OF YOUR ART IS SOO COOL 💞💞💞💞💞💞

THANK YOU SO MUUUUUCH crying on the floor sobbing weeping bawling /pos

[nomsthecat]

sorry but i saw the last ask and only heard "and he looks at me...and i look at him.. and he looks at me. and i look at hiM. AND HE LOOKS AT ME, AND I LOOK AT HIIIMM"

I CRY I CRY I SOB I WEEP I-

gets it stuck in my head

I *WEEP*

(/LH /POS)