#I want to just fully throw a fucking fit but I'm an adult

[yungteem]

i am so fucking miserable and i feel like there's nothing i can do about it so ive tidied my room and just ripping out half my wardrobe to give away and i hate everything nothing is making me happy i hate it

[bigification]

Careful What You Wish For

I lay the cheap looking lamp on my bathroom counter as I get ready for a bath. I can't believe I caved and bought it, it's obviously a scam. This stupid lamp isn't gonna grant any wishes, that old man just got some free cash out of me. It doesn't matter, I'll just take a relaxing bath and throw on some Netflix later.

I get undressed and run some hot water into the bath. Some scented candles set the mood for relaxation, and I throw on some music. I dip myself into the warm water, and lay back.

My relaxation doesn't last long however, as a rumbling catches my attention. It's the lamp. It's vibrating with enough force that I can feel it from across the bathroom. Suddenly a purple smoke emerges from the lamp.

"I may grant you one wish." A soft whisper echoes out of the smoke.

What the actual fuck. This isn't possible. Did that guy drug me? Maybe I should just say a wish to see if it's true.

"I wish to be a more mature looking guy who likes sports." I blurt out. I've always hated how much I look like a teenager despite being a full blown adult, so this could fix that. Also I wouldn't mind being a fit guy who likes sports, it wouldn't hurt.

The moment I say it, the smoke starts to travel towards me. All the smoke spirals into my mouth and nose. I should be scared, but it kinda feels nice. A warm feeling sprouts in the core of my body, making me feel relaxed again.

As the smoke fills my body, I feel my muscles twitching. It must be true, my body is changing. My twig like arms thicken, with bulging biceps and defined forearms. My soft hands grow twice as big and fill with rough callouses. My chest puffs out into two juicy pecs and my stomach flattens into a cut six pack. My thighs thicken as I feel my ass plump up. Even my feet look like they've grown a few sizes. I also have to start bending my legs, as Ive become too tall for the bath tub I'm sitting in.

I look at my reflection in the water and see a handsome man in his late twenties. Holy shit, I'm hot! I've got a chiselled jawline with a dark beard covering it. All my features seem more angular, more manly. As I'm observing my reflection, I notice a pelt of dark hair grow all over my body. My chest, my arms, my legs, everywhere is dusted in a coat of hair.

This is everything I wanted. Even the sports. Memories of playing sports all throughout school flood my mind. I especially liked soccer, though I also really liked weight lifting. More memories of my extensive sex life flood my mind, people are almost hypnotised by my good looks.

Just as I'm reminiscing about my past, I remember I should be working out right now. I can't skimp out on my workout routine. I go to get out of the bath and notice I've got my underwear on. Huh, I must have forgotten to take it off before getting in the bath.

As I'm stepping out of the bath, something feels wrong. A warm feeling once again fills my core. I look down and see my six pack fade under a belly of fat. It continues growing until it sags over my underwear. My pecs swell into a pair of man tits, though they still have a solid base of muscle. My arms double in size, though with a soft layer of fat now covering the muscles. My hands thicken until they look like stuffed sausages, as more rough features cover them.

I feel my underwear tighten around my waist as my ass fattens. My thighs thicken until there is no gap between them, and my feet grow many sizes. I even feel my perspective shift higher, as my height increases.

The dark hairs on my body fade to an almost white colour as the hair thickens around my body. As I'm looking down at my body, I notice hair on my head fall to the ground. I look in horror at my reflection in the mirror, I have to duck just to fully see my face. My hairline recedes all the way to the back of my head, leaving me practically bald. My once sharp facial features have softened under a layer of fat. And a double chin has formed under my beard. I look so old.

Though the more I stare at my body, the more familiar it becomes. Memories flood into my mind of my career in soccer. I was a high level player, and a popular one at that. But you age out of professional soccer in your late thirties. I started focusing more on the weight lifting and less on the cardio. There was only so long I could keep that six pack, and turning 50 certainly didn't help with that. I don't mind it though, it makes me feel more manly. And it makes the team I coach more afraid of me.

I snap out of my trance. I grab a towel and start to dry off. Damn I forgot to take off my underwear again, I should get rid of this one anyway, it doesn't fit me anymore. I duck and look at myself in the mirror.

"Lookin good coach." I say as I smile at myself.

I turn to the other side of the bathroom and step on my scale. It reads '350'.

"Damn, I've really let go of myself, huh." I say as I jiggle my gut.

I also measure my height, it reads 6"6. I should have gone into volleyball with the build I had.

I dry off and leave the bathroom. I grab a family sized bag of chips and lay my fat ass down on the couch. I open the tv and it's already on the world cup. I really wouldn't want it any other way.

[luveline]

PLEASE I NEED MORE STRIPPER READER X AARON

cw reader is able to wear hotch's clothes, adult theme mdni

Your hands ache. You have calluses on your palm, unsightly, but if you were to soak them off you'd bleed. 

The club is practically dead. You can get away with a low effort routine —old men and day drunks don't care what you're doing so long as they can see your chest. The level of undress is your choice (though the girls willing to dance fully nude get the better slots, obviously), and you've been doing this for long enough that it doesn't really bother you when a patron shouts for you to take your bra off. Your hand is slipping behind your back for the clasp when you notice him near the bar. 

Agent Hotchner —you can call me Hotch— usually catches your attention and leaves. A quick nod after he's met your eyes, he'll wait for you to get dressed and meet him out front near his intimidating car. But today he watches even after you smile hello, and someone close by throws a ten at your feet like you'd been smiling for them. He's expressionless. 

It's far more difficult to finish your dance knowing he's watching. He doesn't stay for long, ten seconds at most, but those ten seconds are much longer than he's ever watched you perform before. 

You finish your dance, collect your tips, and trudge back to the dressing rooms. You would've made more money if you'd stripped down. Not much considering the small audience, but some. You can't explain why seeing Hotch had made you stay your hand, maybe because he's one of the only men you know who treats you like you're fully human. You don't want that to change.

It's colder outside than it was when you arrived. Traffic is picking up as people leave their jobs for the day, and the club will be busier in the night hours. You'll stay, hopefully make enough for food this week. 

"Are you warm enough?" he asks immediately. 

"I didn't bring my jacket." You shrug. "I'd rather be out here with you." Than go back inside, no matter how cold. 

He opens his trunk with a click of the key fob and disappears behind the tail end. You can see his arm move, a bundle of black fabric. His arm flexes as he closes the trunk, and his eyebrows have hooked together when he returns to you. 

"Here," he says, "it should fit." 

Just a simple charcoal quarter zip. You shrug it on over your clothes and find yourself immediately greeted by the smell of men's cologne. His cologne. 

"What can I help you with today, Mr. Hotchner?" you ask. You're flirting in that useless way where it doesn't mean a thing, and he knows that, because, as you've come to find about these special agents, they know everything. 

"I wanted to ask you to dinner." 

"Oh, I don't… I don't do the escort stuff," you say gently. 

"I know." He turns his head away from you. "I realise that it's unprofessional. I know it puts you in an uncomfortable position to say no. But I want to take you out for dinner, if you'd let me." 

You stare at him. "I won't sleep with you after one fancy dinner–" 

"It's not like that." He speaks so calmly, so quietly. 

It doesn't make any sense. He's a professional man in a successful career, with a son if you remember correctly, and a circle of peers his own age and status. If he doesn't want to fuck you, if he really wants to take you out for dinner, that's a date. 

"What, you want to be my boyfriend?" you ask, shaking your head, lips pulled down in a frustrated frown. 

"I– well, if things went well, I wouldn't be opposed to it." He laughs. 

"Are you messing with me?" 

"No, I'm sorry. I just wasn't prepared for the question." 

He meets you head on. Face to face and eye to eye, he looks at you with, for once, a completely readable expression. It's a bit startling. The slight lift to his brow and his half-smile, it's an expression that says, If you want to. It puts all the choice in your hands. 

"I know we don't know one another that well, I," —his eyes soften another shade, tenderness like no one's ever given you— "wanted to make my intentions clear to you. I didn't want to continue our professional relationship and then pull the rug out from under you later." 

You know Hotch through car rides, mostly. He's taken you home from a couple of places now, usually after he's asked you questions about someone or something to do with the sex trafficking ring currently being squashed in Virginia. He's nice. You've told him without fretting about the consequences that he's handsome. When you first met, you asked him why gentlemen like him didn't come to see you dance. 

You didn't think the answer was that they might grow to have feelings for you. 

You wonder if he's just lonely. But lonely Hotch could still have a number of women that aren't you, right? 

"Like you'd never get a handle on it?" you ask, subtly teasing.

He reacts to your tone visibly. His smile gets worse, which is to say better, and his voice sounds similarly teasing as he answers, "I tried to. That's exactly what you need, another old man with the wrong idea." 

"I don't think you have the wrong idea, Hotch." 

"But you don't reject that I'm old?" 

You leap to correct him through laughter, surprised at his quick wit, and he leaps to let you know he's kidding through his own. You tell him while things are warm that you'd like to go to dinner with him, if he really means it, and he holds one of your hands like a prince, thumb ghosting over your knuckles, unafraid of the calluses on your hands. He touches you like you're made of glass. 

You try to give him back his jacket before he leaves, but he insists you keep it. "If you freeze before I get to take you out, I won't forgive you." 

Huh, you think as he drives away, waving, the sleeve of his borrowed jacket falling down your arm. Who knew Special Agent Hotchner was a flirt? 

[eiightysixbaby]

as you've probably seen in your notifs, i'm a bit obsessed with your writing 😩 it's so good, i'm utterly obsessed

i was wondering if you could write something where steve is manhandling or rough housing with his gf and it takes a ✨️spicy✨️ turn?? i feel like there aren't enough fics with playful!steve tbh

anyway i'm gonna go back to reading everything you've ever posted now because i'm obsessed 😂

- @hornyhornyhimbos 🖤✨️

hiiiii omg I’m so sorry this request truly got lost in the abyss of my inbox, but I hope you enjoy this regardless. I needed something for reader and steve to be debating about and then… this goofiness was born. 🫶🏻 and thank you for the kind words, it means a lot that you like my writing :’)

18+ only

“There is no fucking way you haven’t seen Grease,” Steve says, sitting up from where he’d been laying on the sofa to look at you properly.

“Never seen it, I swear. I just don’t know if musicals are my thing,” you say, laughing lightly at his dumbfounded expression.

“How did I not know this about you?” he wonders aloud, pressing his palms to his forehead as if he’s deeply stressed.

“If you’d known would you not be dating me right now?” you tease, laughing harder when he rolls his eyes. You know there isn’t a universe where he wouldn’t want to date you, and he knows you know.

“I just can’t believe you’re just going to write it off as ‘oh, musicals aren’t my thing’” he says, his voice pitching higher when he mocks you. “Like, it’s a masterpiece. I’m hurt, babe,” he says, and you’re not quite sure how much of this is real anymore and how much is him teasing.

You only laugh more, shaking your head at his antics. “It can’t be that good. It’s a bunch of grown adults playing high schoolers, running around and singing.”

“Oh, honey, but you haven’t heard Hopelessly Devoted To You. Or Beauty School Dropout… or… or You’re The One That I Want!” he shouts exasperatedly, hands flying all over the place.

“Boooringgggg,” you drawl, really only saying it to get a rise out of him. You’d watch the movie if he asked you to, honestly you’d probably like it, and you both know it.

“Anything but. You haven’t heard Greased Lightning,” he continues, immediately jumping from his spot on the couch. He grabs the television remote, holding it up in front of him.

“Steve, what-”

“I’m about to show you how not boring it is.”

He waggles his eyebrows at you, shaking his hips as he brings the remote to his mouth like a microphone. He dives into a terrible rendition of Greased Lightning, not breaking eye contact with you.

“This car is automatic…” he cries out.

“Babe,” you say, looking at him questioningly.

“It’s systematic…”

“Steven, I swear to god,” you say as he hops up onto the coffee table, socked feet allowing him to slide on the surface.

“It’s hydromatic!”

He’s fully into it now, giving you a complete show as he sings. You’re in a fit of giggles, watching him in awe as he struts around. He’s trying and only somewhat succeeding in mimicking John Travolta’s dance moves, his arm outstretched as he points at you. His hips gyrate, he turns and shakes his ass exaggeratedly as he continues singing. You have to admit he looks damn good in those too-tight jeans.

He takes off his jacket, throwing it out to you as if he’s a real performer. He’s pitched his voice lower while he sings, really trying to sell his impersonation. You snort, rolling your eyes as you start to get up from your seat, attempting to head towards the kitchen to grab a drink.

He stops you, though, jumping down from the table to grab your arm, pulling you into him, chest to chest.

“Steve!” you gasp, palms pressing to his chest as he wraps a strong arm around you. Your heart flutters at the sudden closeness, heat creeping up your neck.

“You’re gonna miss the best part if you walk away now,” he says, trying so hard not to laugh.

“Oh, I think I’ve seen enough,” you tease, trying to break free from his grip.

You think he’s about to let you go when you’re scooped up by his muscular arms, thrown over his shoulder as he discards his ‘microphone’ onto the coffee table. You flail your limbs, struggling to catch your breath between laughs as he sets you down on the large sofa. He positions himself over you, knees digging into the cushion on either side of your stretched legs, caging you in. He pins your wrists above your head, hazel eyes wild as he laughs with you. His strength makes you dizzy, the way he manhandles you with ease sends you reeling.

“Now that I’ve got you right where I want you…” he says maniacally, dramatically. “I’m going to sing every single song from Grease in order of appearance in the film,” he finishes, adding a wicked cackle to the end of his sentence.

“No, no! Please! Please spare me!” you cry, playing right along with his act.

You try to free your wrists as your legs thrash underneath your boyfriend, but Steve’s grip tightens. His free hand grips the flesh of your hip, pinning you harder to the couch. He’s smiling, practically glowing with how much he likes you, but the mood suddenly shifts when you let out a soft, pleased little noise at the way he squeezes your skin. Your hips inadvertently roll a little, seeking him out.

Your arms no longer struggle against his grip, instead simply going limp beneath the expanse of his fingers. Your breath hitches in your throat, lips parting slightly as you really take in all of Steve. His cheeks are flushed a light shade of pink from exertion, his hair slightly out of place from all of his dancing. He’s beautiful, so gorgeous, and right now he’s looking at you like you’re his favorite sight in the world. Really, it’s because you are.

“Steve…” you breathe out, chest rising and falling as you catch your breath from your previous heavy fits of laughter.

He closes the distance between the two of you, pressing his lips to yours so softly yet so passionately. It says a million things, it expresses all of his adoration for you. Your tongue swipes gently into his mouth, tasting him just a little. His tongue meets yours then, sending chills through your body.

He pulls away eventually, looking at you like he’s lovestruck.

“You’re such a dork, Steve Harrington,” you murmur, but really it says ‘I love you’, ‘thank you for sharing your interests with me’, ‘you’re my favorite person’. And he knows.

“And you’re the girl that’s dating me,” he replies, smiling cutely down at you.

You tug the collar of his shirt, bringing him back down to your lips. Teeth and tongues clash once more as his hips roll into yours, making you whimper. He pushes the fabric of your skirt up your leg, higher higher higher until the pad of his thumb is teasing your cotton panties. Your wrists are freed from his grip, his hand pressing into the cushion to hold himself up. His thumb swipes over your needy core, teasing, but he’s met with a pool of warm wetness that sticks to his fingers. You flush as he gasps into your kiss, knowing he’s figured you out. He pulls his lips from yours and you pout, wiggling your hips slightly beneath him.

“What, honey? Did my imitation of Danny Zuko really do it for ya? Got you that wet?” he teases, smirking so adorably at you you want to smack him.

“Oh fuck off, I can’t stand you,” you reply. “But maybe.”

“Hey, you know what they say. ‘The chicks’ll cream for greased lightnin’” he quotes.

It earns him a well deserved eye-roll, but he makes up for all of his antics with how well he devours you afterwards.

[ofbluesandyellows]

Black Cat's Curse - TASM! Fem! Reader

Summary: Peter Parker has been cursed, crossing paths with the oh so feared black cat isn't exactly in his itinerary, and no, we are not talking about or favorite lady, Felicia. On Halloween night his bad luck has prodded him to the solution he didn't know he was looking for.

Word count: 6,537

Warnings: cursing, witchcraft (lol idk)

a/n: Hi! I'm back with a lil Halloween story for you, this one fully came to me last week. It isn't anything crazy but I do hope you enjoy it. Happy Halloween y'all. I adopted a black cat recently so maybe that's where the inspo came from. Bye :)

“What do you mean you can’t do anything?” Spider-Man was about to drop to his knees, to beg. And he never begged for anything in his life, other than bringing Ben back to life.

“Ow Spider.” Her finger with a long perfectly manicured nail traced his spandex covered clavicle. “Yes, they call me Black Cat but it doesn’t mean I know how to undo your bad luck. That’s on you and the poor black kitty you crossed paths with.”

“But whenever I get unlucky it’s always because of you, how come this is different?”

“Hey, don’t come to me with that bullshit, that’s just how things are, you should’ve known better. You’re on your own Spider.”

Peter closed his eyes, not that Cat could see him but he needed a second not to throw a punch at her, he knew she’d dodged with ease but he didn’t want to risk it. Exhaling he was about to humiliate himself once more, turning around Cat was long gone.

“Mother fuck-“ a splash of what he knew was bird poo painted the red spandex of his forearm with sickly yellowy-white. “Seriously?” Arms up in the air, no one to reply back.

Peter Parker wasn’t a big fan of Halloween growing up, he always went for the uncool type of costumes, he clearly remembered asking aunt May to buy him a white wig so he could dress up as Albert Einstein when he was about eleven. Uncle Ben ended up buying him white color spray and a fake mustache so they could DIY the look. Knitted burgundy vest, faux wrinkles on his face and the already perfect bushy brows made Peter the happiest kid in the block.

He was beyond ecstatic with the way his costume turned out, adults praised him and aunt May for the effort when he went trick or treating but the real menace were kids’ nasty words and funny remarks about him. After that he either went with a boring costume, he preferred to fit in, or at least try rather than be laughed at. 

It was obvious that the teasing continued up until college, but college was bearable compared to what he had gone through since he became Spider-Man.

Peter hadn’t been in need of a costume for years now, that was the main reason why he liked Halloween now, he could walk around as a civilian in his actual suit, no one batted an eye in his direction during this day.

Flash Halloween party was crazy loud, Peter didn’t know these many people were friends with Flash.

“Hey Spider-Man!” His heart skipped a beat, but Flash was smiling at him. “Peter, you made it!” 

Peter took the mask off, he thought this would be funny, wearing his actual suit was comfortable but now he was regretting it, he had several mini heart attacks whenever called him by his alias. He felt sweat dripping from his back. Yeah he would need to wash the suit.

“Of course man! I promised, right?” he laughed trying to disguise the panic.

Flash was wearing a Beetle juice costume, a pretty epic one if Peter could have an opinion on it. 

“I see you went all in with the costume huh?” He snatched the mask off Peter’s hand. “Nah this isn’t as good as the original.” Flash laughed.

With cherry colored cheeks Peter chuckled. “Yeah, I bought it at Walmart. Everyone seems to love the guy so I just thought why not?” 

“I’ve seen worse Parker, like the guy dressed as Alex Turner? Pfff lazy.”

“Really? I haven’t seen him. Don’t tell me it’s Harry the one dressed like that.” Peter said amused.

“Almost, but no. Harry hasn’t shown up yet, bet he found some expensive costume made suit and will pull off a ‘I’m Leonardo DiCaprio in Wolf of Wall Street.””

Both boys rolled their eyes. “Wouldn’t be surprised.” 

Suddenly Peter felt cold dripping from his back. 

“Hey dickhead, watch where you are going.” Flash was the first to talk, pushing a drunk David Bowie out the way.

Peter was in shock, how come he didn’t notice, why were his senses not alerting him of the guy at his back.

The smell of sweet fruity punch and vodka lingered on his nose. 

“Shit Pete, do you want to change?” 

Peter shook his head, lipped smile on. “No, don’t worry I’m good. Just going to grab a beer.”

“Ok, if you need something just look for me, okay?” 

“Sure, thanks Flash. Cool party by the way.”

Flash grinned. “Thanks Parker! See ya around.”

The lights were kaleidoscopic, New Wave music playing, it was a lot and now his suit was wet and cold and there were pretty girls around, and he couldn’t concentrate in one thing. 

Fuck me.

Tuning around as he dodged a group of girls dressed as fairies he clocked eyes with a witch. She was sitting on the couch with other people, Peter wasn’t sure if she was with them or not but the staring sent shivers down his spine. 

She gave him a lipped smile, one he tried to emulate, not succeeding because she dropped her expression. The next thing he knew it was that she disappeared. 

He shook his body to try and get rid of the odd feeling. Finding a beer was easy, what wasn’t easy was held in the need to puke when the warm and obviously outdated beer’s taste hit his tongue. 

Peter sighed, he was tired of this, it hadn’t even been a week with this black cat curse and he was already done, no fight with Electro nor Vulture had done him this wrong. Sloped shoulders and a bitter taste he was ready to go home. 

Exiting the loud house in Brooklyn, Peter’s eyes found the sparkly ones of a witch. 

A new wave of shivers appeared as Season of the Witch played at his back. Spooky as shit.

“Okay, this is worrying me.” He mumbled.

The girl approached him in two long steps. 

“Hello,” you smiled, showing him your pearly white teeth. 

“Um hi?” 

“Sorry to bother you, I saw you in there and if you don’t mind me saying this… you look like shit.” The apple of your cheeks tinted pink. 

Peter scoffed. “Yeah? Well, I didn’t need to hear it because I do indeed feel like shit, so if you excuse me,”

He took a step to the right to make his escape, but you took the exact same side as he did.

Peter scowled.

“I—I don’t want to sound crazy but you do have like a bad aura around you, you know? Like a dark cloud following you, and… okay yeah I’m going to say this with the risk of sounding like an insane person but I promise you I am not—“

Taking a cautious step closer, you were too close for Peter’s liking. On your tiptoes you angled yourself to reach his ear.

“You are cursed.” 

Peter felt his body freeze, his eyes went wide just as goosebumps formed on his skin.

“You… how did you know?” Peter stumbled back a little. 

“As I said, I can see it.” You took a jump back. Your face went back to a soft smirk. “Need help with it?”

Peter looked around, the streets were busy still, it wasn’t even midnight yet.

“You know how to revert it?” 

“Sure thing. It’s a simple spell.” 

“Can you do it now, like chant it or whatever.” 

You scoffed. “Hell no! It’s a bit more complicated than that,” balancing on the balls of your heels you stared at him. Peter was mulling with the possibilities. You were weird as fuck. But he didn’t feel the Peter tingle as it was. He only felt wary. 

You had this cute smile and very bright eyes. If Black Cat couldn’t do anything to help him, why not take his chances and accept the help of an actual witch.

“Are you like a real witch?” He squinted. 

“Yeah.” 

“Fine. What do we need to do?” 

You grinned, joyous. 

“Follow me Peter Parker.” 

Shrugging, you said: “Flash told me.”

“You know Flash?” Well, that was news to him. He never expected him of all people to be close with a witch.

You seemed offended. “Um yes? We take bioengineering together.” 

Peter almost choked on his own saliva. “You go to Empire?”

“Yes, I’ve seen you around, you’re friends with that rich kid that always looks at the rest of us as if we were dirt under his shoe.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh when Peter scrunched his nose. “That sounds like Harry.” 

“Osborn is not always nice to everyone.” 

Peter knew that but Harry wasn’t a bad person he just hadn’t been given the attention he deserved.

“So bioengineering, huh? You’re pretty smart I assume.”

“It helps with the witchcraft thing, believe it or not.” 

Peter could see why. He grabbed his mask a little tighter.

“Oh.” 

Peter heard you say, a second later a car passed by full gas, the puddle of dirty water splashed wetting his legs. 

“You could’ve warned me, you know?” shaking his legs only made the water go down into his converses, wetting his socks. He needed to come up with a water repellent suit.

“Right, sorry. Never seen such a curse before. The grayish hue around you goes purple whenever something is about to happen. It’s kinda awesome.” You grinned.

Why was this woman always so cheery? Peter sighed and continued walking.

“Do you have a name or should I just call you Witch?” 

You chuckled. “I do have a name but Witch is way more fun. And it’s Halloween, it fits.” 

Peter grimaced. What a time to be cursed.

Both hopped on a bus after walking three blocks.

“Are you hungry Peter Parker?” 

His stomach felt like growling. “I could eat.”

“Nice, I’ll order some pizza. It should be there when we arrive.” 

Peter saw you texting. He noticed for once your whole attire. Pointy hat with purple ribbons and tulle decorating it. You had glitter smeared on your cheeks and eyelids. The dress was black tulle as well with a sparkling touch, he wasn’t sure what it was. The tights had black and purple stripes with a nice pair of black Dr Martens. It was like a modern version of the classic Witch costume he’d seen in movies. 

It suited you, what it didn’t match was your always happy features. Peter wondered if you were in fact a witch or just pretended to be one for the sake of the holiday.

“Do you like mushrooms?” You found him staring. Your cheeks went a tone deeper in red.

Peter panicked and looked out the window, far away from you. “They’re fine.”

“Good, I ordered half pepperoni and half mushrooms.” 

Humming, you, witchy girl unlocked, your phone and started to play…

“Sudoku? Really Witch?” Peter grinned, this was so odd to him.

“I like it, it keeps me on my toes.” you giggled.

Unintendedly, Peter kept an eye on the game, finger pointing to one square and mumbled “there has to be a nine.”

The grid sheet sparkled after you pressed the 9 in. “Nice one, Peter Parker.” 

“Just call me Peter.” 

Your eyes locked on his. “But Peter Parker sounds more interesting.” You nudged him, making him laugh. 

“You’re so weird.”

“Thanks.”

•••

Peter sat in the living room. The apartment was simple, it didn’t even feel witchy at all. It smelled fresh and there was some kind of lavender sent around.

“What? Disappointed?” You laughed at his face.

“A little, yes.”

“It’s 2023 Peter Parker. I don’t have cauldrons and a crystal ball.” Your witch hat rested comically on the kitchen counter.

“So what kind of witch are you, then?” Peter spoke with a mouthful, the pizza was incredibly tasty.

“I’m not one kind, I just do what I want to do.” 

Peter nodded. 

“Careful with the—“ 

Peter’s slice of pizza fell on his converses. He thought he’d been clever by not using his spandex lined boots.

“Shit.”

“I tried to tell you.”

He peeled the slice from his black chucks. “Can I get another slice?” 

You pushed the box his way. 

“How did you get cursed?” You asked, nibbling on your lip, the pizza resting on a plate on your lap, untouched.

“Crossed the path of a black cat.” He grunted. “Sounds stupid but it’s what happened.”

“Been there. I’ll fix it, it shouldn’t be hard” 

Peter straightened. “How long is it going to take?” 

You stared at him. Peter could almost see the nuts turning in your brain.

“A few hours, I suppose.” 

“Is it going to hurt?”

“Maybe?”

Peter had multidimensional war flashbacks from Doctor Strange, and the other Peters. Yeah he wasn’t in. “Well, now that I’ve had time to think about it I remember why I don’t do witchcraft. You need to find another way. I’ve had my fair share of that and it was quite the hustle so no Miss Witch I think I’m good.” He gave you a lipped smile.

“Okay… um why don’t you tell me about it, I assure you this is completely different and safe.”

“I’m not legally allowed to talk about it, so…” He shrugged. “Also you said it can hurt. I’m not down for that."

“Ugh fine, Peter Parker, but if you go, the curse won’t go away, you’ll have to live with it.”

Peter looked down, considering all that had happened maybe you were right, it’s not like he hadn’t suffered enough to handle a little magic.

“Fine.”

You got up in a jump, disappearing inside a room. Peter heard rattling and the closing of drawers. He wasn’t sure what to expect so he tried to not think about it. 

After another two slices of what he considered a perfect pizza, Peter put the plate down on the coffee table. The table cracked in two as if some almighty froze had cut it in two with a really sharp invisible blade.

“How the fuck?” He squealed, holding both sides of his face with his hands. This was nonsense. He didn’t even put force. 

“What happened?” You appeared behind him. “Oh… well I needed a new coffee table anyway.” 

You went away humming again. 

“Insane… she is insane.” Mumbling Peter crossed his arms, trying to not touch or breathe too hard, anything could create a domino effect and make the building collapse or something worse. He could die if he forgot how to breathe!

He guessed that wasn’t possible but he was not going to risk it.

The skin on his back felt sticky but he didn’t dare to move. After a moment you cleared your throat to announce yourself.

“So Peter Parker, I’m going to ask you a few questions…. It's protocol only.” 

Sitting down at his feet, you flipped a few pages, grabbed a pink sparkly gel pen and wrote down in pretty cursive calligraphy. 

Peter Parker. 

Cursed by crossing paths with a black cat :(

“You do this often or-“ he asked.

“Nah, but it’s nice to document these things, who knows when I will need the information.” You beamed, clearly excited by the whole situation.

“Sure,”

“So, have you been cursed before?” blinking, you waited for a response.

Peter wasn’t sure if his Spider-Man issues were a curse, sometimes it felt like that to be honest.

“Not that I’ve been aware of.” He leaned back on the couch. 

“Have you killed people in the past?”

His face contorted, now that was a hard question.

“It’s… um not voluntarily… I mean no, of course no” he let out a pretty fake laugh. “But I saw my uncle die and my… my girlfriend too.” 

Your face dropped. “Sorry about that.”

He half shrugged, looking the other way, he was not going to cry in front of a witch, this was humiliation enough.

“Er, next question. Do you have allergies?” 

“No.”

“Experienced dizziness, or a rush of adrenaline in the past forty-eight hours?” 

Peter squinted, these were very specific questions. “ Yeah, but what does that have to do with the curse?”

You shrugged. “See if there are side effects.” 

“The adrenaline thing isn’t for the curse… I have a stressful job.”

“That responds the next question… so how long has it been since you got cursed?” your head rested on your palm, you reminded him of that one therapist aunt May forced him to go see a few years ago.

“Three days, maybe four.” 

“Hmmm, interesting.” 

“Why?”

“Hmm? Oh well, cats don’t just go out crossing people’s paths like that. Most times they have a reason. Have you wronged a cat in your life?” your knee going up and down nonstop, Peter noticed the nervous thick. He had several.

Felicia could count as a cat but she had wronged him more than he had her.

“No.” He scoffed. 

“Ok, didn’t want to offend you.”

Peter let out a breathy laugh, this was the craziest shit that he had experienced and he had gone through a lot of fucked up shit in his life.

“Please come with me.” 

You stood up with a graceful jump. Dress puffing with air. Peter stared at your hand extended to him. The moment he took it there was this tingly feeling that crossed his whole body. 

You grinned. He glared.

The room you got in was pitch black, a breeze came from somewhere, it smelled like incense. With the snap of your fingers a yellow hue covered the room which was not more than 80 square feet, seemed to be a closet.

Three candles were floating, Harry Potter style. His hand went over the flame no wire attached to them.

“Am I hallucinating already?” He said. Hand now going under the candle he was in awe.

“Nope, we haven’t started yet.” You chuckled. “And those are totally real. It’s a very easy spell.” You said proudly.

“Cool,”

“Sit on the floor.” You demanded, Peter obeyed.

With a bright pink dust, you painted a circle and a bunch of indecipherable symbols that Peter preferred not to know what they meant. Instead he focused on you; your smooth hands tracing patterns as if it was second nature. Your lips were tuned slightly upwards, it was obvious how this made you feel. Peter felt his own lips curving. 

Hmm… he frowned, that was not right. But his mind was taking over, your long lashes with specs of glitter resting on them. Hair, shiny and soft looking. Peter kind of wanted to brush it to the side with his fingers. Shaking his head he couldn’t be thinking such things, he didn’t even know your name. And you were a witch!

And you are a fucking Spider-Man, chill the fuck out Parker.

Great! He was going insane now.

Snapping your fingers, music started to sound. 

“Is that Fiona Apple?” Peter asked, throwing her a quick glance,

“Yes! She gives off the right vibe for this.” Your sly smirk made Peter’s stomach flip.

Oh no.

Squaring down, to be on eye level with him, he caught the very faint scent of cherry. 

“I’m going to give you tea, It’s going to make you a little dizzy and jittery.” Extending your palm, you showed him two little rocks. 

“What’s that for?” Peter took them either way. 

Your index finger pointed to a clear looking crystal. “That’s clear quartz, it clears the mind, attracts positivity and repels negativity. The orange one it’s citrine for positive mood, clarity and focus.” 

His chocolate eyes never left yours, for the first time the whole night your smile quivered. You needed to gain some distance. You stood up quickly.

“Whatever happens, don’t let them go. And you have to have them around until the next new moon. Understood?”

Peter sighed, whatever helps him get over this. “Got it.”

You opened a book with a crimson hard cover. A sage green cup rested on the wooden table in front of you. Your back facing Peter, he let the little crystals roll on his palm as he heard Fiona Apple’s voice mixing with the cooing spell you were casting. Words he had never heard got whispered inside the cup, the energy in the room changed in a second, the yellow hue became brighter. 

Peter’s body shivered when you went back kneeling before him.

“Drink this, you have to close your eyes and don’t open them until I say so, okay Peter Parker?”

Peter nodded, gulping as he took the cup. It was warm to the touch. The liquid inside looked like any other tea aunt May had made him before, a little cloudy but it had a nice smell.

“I added a little honey and it’s spearmint flavored.” You chirped. 

“How many times have you said you have done this?” Peter was really curious, it came pretty natural to you. 

“Oh this is the first time, but I’m sure it’ll go almost perfect.” 

“Jesus, that’s just what one would like to hear in these situations.”

“Come on Peter Parker, this is fun!” 

“Cheers, I guess.” 

Peter drank the whole thing in one go and the taste was surprisingly good.

He sat there waiting for something to feel different but nothing changed. 

“How you feeling?” You asked, looking him in the eye.

“Should I be feeling weird?” he replied, trying to pay attention to his body. Everything was the same. He opened his eyes.

“Shit, you are supposed to be experiencing something by now. And you drank the whole thing,” you stomped your foot on the floor. “I did everything the book said.” 

Quickly, you went back to the book to check the spell as if it was a recipe. 

“Sorry to disappoint.” Peter sighed. “Hey um, this is going to sound weird, but, would you like to… I don’t know, like go for coffee one of these days?” your eyes went wide, big as saucers hearing him ask. “Or not… I mean I was just suggesting.”

“Don’t move Peter Parker.” You squinted, Peter felt something on his arm. 

“You opened your eyes!” She squealed. 

A spider, the same spider that bit him years ago was walking up his arm, then there was another and another, all of them crawling upwards.

“Holy fucking shit.” Horror stained his voice. But Peter couldn’t move. He didn’t know if he was able to feel his body.

“You are Spider-Man for fucks sake keep it together” you cried. “Told you to keep them closed."

In a swift move you grabbed a few vials filled with dust in different colors. Peter was wide eyed, gawking, unmoving about to have a heart attack.

“I can’t move, help!” his voice high pitched. 

“Shut up Peter Parker, I’m trying to think!” 

A marble mortar plopped on the table, a mix of colors and sparks flashed across your face. 

“Sorry for what’s next but you can’t move and I’m not in position to kill our city’s hero.”

Grabbing the dust on the mortar, you put the bright blue dust on your lips as you fell on your knees in front of Peter. Careful not to ruin the pentagram.

Leaning forward you said,

“The spider you see is just in your mind, you are hallucinating for real this time, that’s why i told you to not open your eyes. Wish things were different but this is it, Peter Parker.”

“What?” 

“Good luck.”

You clashed your lips with his. In a second Peter felt his whole body tingle, like he was having a serious case of pins and needles. Involuntarily his palm went up to rest on your cheek. Warm and soft. Cherry scent, and blueberry taste. His eyes fluttered shut as he kissed you, the crazy girl he met a few hours ago at the halloween party.

A sharp turn. Just like when you twirl in one spot until you feel the whole room shake and you are in that state of happy dizziness. Peter felt like that and he kind of enjoyed it. 

When the motion stopped fully he opened his eyes. Blinking he reincorporated, he didn’t know he had been lying down this whole time. 

Spider-Man’s spandex suit still plastered on his torso just that the room was not the tiny room he had been in. 

“Peter?” 

“Aunt May?” 

“Breakfast is ready!” 

Peter rested on his elbows, he was in his room in Queens. He was in Brooklyn just a second ago. And, why was he even here? His apartment was in Manhattan. 

Shaking his head he peeled the tight suit off, his body complained, a common thing by now. Taking a quick shower he saw the water run down the drain, little hints of bright blue in them. He shook his head, migraine settling behind his eyes.

“I had no idea you were staying the weekend Peter, you always let me know.” May dried her hands in the kitchen cloth as she looked at him with fond eyes. “You scared the hell living out of me last night when I heard you in your room.”

Peter frowned, he didn’t remember how he got in, he wasn’t even sure what happened after he saw Flash at the party. Late that night he found two shiny bits of crystal on his bed. His mind screamed at him to keep them near.

Until the new moon, right?

Glimpses of what felt like dreams were trying to tell him something, most days Peter woke up with the feeling that he had forgotten something but he pushed it aside, there wasn’t much time to think of Peter problems when there were Spider-Man real problems. 

It took him six days to notice his bad luck had disappeared, he felt lighter than ever, he even got a rise at his job which was hard to believe. Cat hadn’t been involved in trouble and Peter didn’t need patching or stitches for the week, he was doing amazing.

One night during patrol. He was sitting on a building in Brooklyn, there had been a fire two blocks down, no one had been injured so Peter left the scene before the police arrived. Now his legs hung on the edge of the six story building. Phone in hand. Flash posted the party’s photos, he laughed at one where a group of guys dressed as the one and only Pitbull were carrying Flash as he threw pumpkins shaped confetti in the air. Flash knew how to have a good time, Pete gave him that. 

The next photo was one where he could see himself at the back, he barely noticed it was him, the spandex gave him away. But what caught his attention was the pointy hat, purple ribbons floating. His heart increased its pace. 

•••

Flash was doing some drills at Empire’s gym. Sweaty and all, he greeted Peter with a hug and a laugh.

“Pete, you left too early the other day!” 

Peter’s cheek went warm. “Sorry, yeah I wasn’t feeling well.”

“No problem. You want to play? For the good ol’ days.” Flash chuckled.

Peter remembered high school as if it was yesterday.

“I have class in like twenty minutes, but next time. I was just wondering if you knew the name of this girl I met at your party.”

Flash smirked, nudging Peter on the ribs. “I see why you weren’t feeling well huh? Parker.” 

Peter scratched his neck, this was so awkward, he didn’t even know the girl.

“What she looked like?” 

Peter’s image of you was very vague, he remembered the costume, but nothing else really.

“You have an idea how many girls dressed like that were at the party? I need more intel Parker.” 

Peter closed his eyes for a second. “She- um she said you were taking bioengineering together,” 

Flash huffed, making the basketball bounce. “I’m not taking bioengineering, Peter. Don’t think girls take that class anyway… trust me I’d remember.” He winked.

“Really? Because she was very sure of it.” He laughed, out of pure agony.

Have you been like a dream or something?

“I think someone made you look like a fool Pete. But there’s always more girls.”

“Right, no, you’re right. Um, I’m going to get going. See you later man.”

“Take care Parker!” 

Making his way back home, Peter kicked a can with all the force he managed, it landed inside a trash can. He blinked, shit that was quite lucky. He felt not so lucky when there was no space in the subway to even move your legs, at least it was warm in there, the November wind was getting tougher by the day. Headphones on, he put the music in shuffle. 

In starlit night I saw you

So cruel you kissed me

your lips a magic world

Leaning on the cold metallic tube in front of the doors, he sighed looking at his converse. He needed to give them a wash, those ketchup stains were not making it look any better. His fingers went to his eyes, scratching the corners of them, he could sleep right there if he was sure no one would steal his phone but instead he concentrated on his surroundings. Phone screens shining, Instagram posts passing rapidly, text messages getting deleted and retyped, sudoku grid…

Sudoku grid?

His stomach churned. He had these images like photos archived in his brain. He remembered the sudoku grid, the number 9 for some reason, mushrooms, pink dust, floating candles, a green mug, and a smile. That smile had haunted his dreams for days now.

The owner of the phone had a bright yellow coat. Peter froze just creepily staring at the person.

Next stop was a commotion, people going out, some more coming in. Peter lost yellow coat for a moment only to see it going out with the sea of people.

“Hey!" he shouted. Desperation in his voice. “Yellow coat!” 

Only feet away now, he saw the person go up the stairs. His heart hammering against his ribcage, what was this, why was he so anxious for the person to turn?

Crossing a busy street, he took his earphones off, seeing for one last time yellow coat get into a taxi, mixing in the traffic. 

Peter sometimes really thought he was the most intelligent person in the world. He decided to follow the taxi, this time in Spider-Man clothes. Web shooters full and ready, cold wind wasn’t even a bother, he had perfected the suit to be warmer on winter days. 

Swinging up to Brooklyn’s bridge had been easy, the problem being on which of all the taxis he saw was yellow coat in. 

Running and shooting webs caused lots of honking and almost made a man crash his car thanks to the little kid trying to come off the window to say hello to him.

“Sorry!” He apologized, as he flew by. 

Last taxi entering Brooklyn was his only chance, this better be it. As he plopped as softly as he could on the roof of the car, he bent over to take a peek on the backseat windows. 

He grinned under the mask. Knocking on the window he saw shiny hair flick, and sparkly eyes connected with his white buggy ones. Waving a hand at you, your eyes went wide. In a flash everything came back to him.

The curse, how you feed him and basically cured his bad luck with a blueberry flavored kiss.

Stealing his heart with that, it was absurd yet magical, Peter wasn’t surprised no more with what happened in his daily life.

“Roll the window down?” He made the motion for you to do so.

For a brief second Peter thought you were not doing it, but you did, wind made your hair dance and oh Peter’s heart shivered with joy.

“Witch!” He greeted, still looking at you upside down.

“Peter Pa- Spider-Man!” you smiled, in awe.

The taxi driver rolled his window down too. “Dickhead, get the fuck down of my car!” 

“Just drop me in the next block.” You said, throwing the man some money.

Peter jumped off the car just as the taxi slowed down. 

“Freaks!” The man shouted at them, his middle finger sticking out the window as his goodbye.

“Thank you kind sir!” Peter saluted him.

You snorted by his side. Pivoting on his heels, it took him a second to take it all in. 

“You disappeared,”

“I didn’t disappear, I helped you get home Peter Parker.” You grinned. Oh that smile, Peter wanted to squeeze your cheeks.

“Um, no, that’s not what happened. I was lying in your room, and then you kissed me and then I woke up at my aunt’s? For a moment I thought I was losing my mind.”

You were staring at him amused. “It was fun, right? I know I had a lot of fun that night.” 

“Don't be mean.” Peter’s hand flew to his chest, as if he had been hurt for real. “I even asked Flash about you, and you lied, you never went to Empire.” Hands flying in the air, as he spoke.

“First of all. I do go to Empire, Flash is just not a very observant person.”

“Right, so tell me why you did all this?”

"I had to fix it okay!” Your eyes locked on your shoes. 

“Spider-Man hi!!” A group of teenagers waved their hands at them on the other side of the street.

“Hello, guys!” He had to be kind to the fans, being the beloved neighborhood hero wasn’t an easy task after all. “Have a good day.”

“You are the shit bro!” One of them shouted back.

“Do you mind if we talk somewhere more private?” Peter said through gritted teeth.

You bit the inside of your cheek to not laugh. “Ok.”

Peter took the opportunity to grab you by the waist, in a fast and smooth motion he was flying through Brooklyn.

“This is not what I had in mind.” You squealed against his spandex covered neck, he felt your breath hot on his skin. 

“Oh you owe me, this is the least you can do for me Witch.” 

Peter wowed as they moved between buildings. Landing on the roof of an old cinema. The neon lights casting pretty shadows against your face and the suit’s texture became alive. He took the mask off to reveal the sweetest of smiles. Cheeks rosy.

“What can we do about this?” He asked, arms spread wide, he was falling for someone who he barely knew.

You hid your hands inside your coat, wind biting on your skin harshly. 

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

Peter sighed. “How was it supposed to go? You said you had to fix it, what do you mean by that?”

Why were Peter’s eyes so pretty, his face was a mix of pain and hope, your stomach felt funny again. It had been like that since you first saw him. A month ago.

A blue moon was something you always enjoyed. Making moon water, charging crystals, manifesting and writing spells. 

But Orion, your black cat had been angsty for days now, he always was like that during full moons. He destroyed your quilt, the one to knit together with so much effort. So you let him out.

“Get out! If you could, I’d make you fix this to make me happy!” The window closed with a thud and poor Orion blended in with the night.

After trying to fix it but failing with the quilt you felt guilty. Orion was simply trying to let that energy out, and you took it against the poor thing. After much thinking you decided to go out looking for him. Orion’s name got pronounced several times until you saw him crossing the street a little ahead of you, it was three in the morning. Cars weren’t even passing, the world was still, sirens and honks chimed far away. 

Orion locked eyes with you for a moment. And you knew this was a bit of a dare to him, squatting down you tried to prod the cat to go to you, but Orion only sat in the middle of the sidewalk, liking his paw almost making fun of you. One step closer was what set him off running again. Just in time for Spider-Man to pass walking; half mask up munching on what seemed to be a burrito, mustard on the corner of his mouth, he came to a halt when the cat crossed his path. You saw Spider-Man gulp. 

A moment later his burrito fell flat on the pavement. You knew what this was about, you shut your eyes, cursing Orion under your breath, when you opened them Spider-Man was gone. 

“So you knew I was Spider-Man all along?” Peter scoffed. “You are full of secrets witch.”

“I knew I even said it to you when you were freaking out. Half of the spell had to do with me doing the ritual and half of it was you believing it would work, you still opened those damn pretty eyes.”

Peter kicked a tiny rock off the roof. “So you think I have pretty eyes?” he heard you laugh. 

“You do Peter Parker.”

He blushed deeper. “ So what I felt when you… kissed me was just part of the spell?” 

The disappointment in his voice made your heart jump. “It wasn’t about feelings, Peter Parker, it was just a spell to fix your bad luck. Whatever you felt, that’s on you.”

“Hmm,” he took a step closer, scratching his neck. “I was being serious when I asked you out for coffee.”

“I know.”

Peter smirked. “You like making me suffer, I see how it is.” He laughed, making a full twirl.

The grin on your lips couldn’t be held. “It’s funny to see you all embarrassed.” 

“Jesus… okay so, coffee this Saturday?” His ears were bright red.

“Sounds good to me.” 

“Great.” Another step closer. “Don’t bring your cat, I beg.” 

“I won’t.” 

“Good, because I’m feeling pretty lucky as it is.” His lips ghosted over yours.

On your tiptoes you connected your lips with his cold but soft ones. Both smiling and chuckling. 

“This is even better than the last one.”

“Yeah because you were freaking out about spiders, Spider-Man.” you mumbled, Peter brushed the hairs that floated in your face, he needed a clear path.

“I think I prefer it when you call me Peter Parker.”

Peter kissed the tip of your nose, and you finally let him know your name. He beamed as he repeated it.

“That sounds about right.”

A meow was heard and Peter groaned, forehead connection to yours.

“He won’t do it again. I promise, it was just a blue moon thing.”

You saw his eyes traveling all over your face. “I think I can get used to getting cursed.”

Orion meowed again, rubbing its little black fur against Peter’s leg. 

“Hey pal.” Peter said, patting the cat sweetly.

You snorted. “You’re weird Peter Parker.”

“Thank you.” 

Maybe after all Orion did something that made you happier than a badly knitted quilt.  

Peter found the whole term of black cat curse drastically different, they weren’t about bad luck after all. 

[kowaindar0u]

//

so. post-reimei thoughts. probably some minor spoilers but nothing super shocking or important. also, i will warn, yuichi's been to... very dark places, emotionally/mentally that could be triggering. i'm not gonna write about it in detail or anything but just a heads up!

well, for one, i have such a love-hate relationship with the way tkrb is so vague/open-ended about a lot of things LOL like the possibilities are endless but i'm stupid and also i get stressed about "oh what if i make something that doesn't fit" so i get myself in a locked situation thought-wise which is STUPID because thats the POINT of it being WIIIDE OPEN SPAAACES yknow!!!! but brains are idiots unfortunately lol

.... that being said,,

i like the whole... "had inklings of spiritual sensitivity/power for a while before it fully manifested" thing. i'd been thinking that's how i'd go with yuichi as it's reminiscent of like... mutants in x-men LOL

and, the fact that if one has those inklings, it's possible to reach out to/be reached out to by a touken danshi in some manner? or, i wonder, perhaps even manifest a tsukumogami spirit from something by then?

So, i guess with all that in mind

yuichi's life was, like, just... very unremarkable LOL. I don't think anything immensely bad happened to him, nor did anything positive of particular note, yknow? but even the mundane tends to overwhelm him and always has, and by the time he was an adult, his anxieties had kept him from really, like, branching out, taking chances, making many close friends, leaving the house unless absolutely necessary for work, etc. He was heavily depressed and quite lonely, but he felt It was nobody's fault but his own.

Zooming in toward the end of his "regular human" life:

So. he's got himself into a pit--or maybe more like a trench-- of despair. His entire psyche just ached, and if he thought too hard about his life and existence he would just break down and cry or throw himself into a panic attack. He doesn't eat enough, and sleeps way too much, when he's not lying awake ruminating in self-deprecation.

And then... things just start getting loud. It's worse outside, which has him leaving the house even less. It's like a ringing in his ears, layered over what seems like whispers. He's pretty sure he's just finally going insane from only being with himself so much.

One day he decides to leave the house. He hasn't been able to work lately, all things considered, and so he's running out of time for basic needs, and he cannot find a way in which anything gets better. He wants to find some place quiet-- but it's hard. Memories, spiritual energy, etc are everywhere, after all.

By the time he gets to the pier, it's raining, and he's a mess. He had every intention of climbing over that railing and just giving up. He's gripping the metal bars and screaming internally at himself to just do it already, and --

A surge of...something racks his brain, and had he not been holding the railing he'd have probably dropped to the ground.

In front of him now, just over the railing, is what looks like... a rip in the air...? through it, he can see swirls of color rushing by.

Oh, he thinks. This is it. I've finally cracked. If that's not a sign, I don't know what is.

He's a little bit curious, even though he's telling himself this is just a hallucination or something. He's not even sure he can jump that far. But what does it matter? He came here to do that anyway.

So... he shakily clambers over the railing, takes in a deep breath, and jumps, reaching for that rip. Its edges seem to come to his hands instead, and he grabs on, somehow able to pull himself up and through the rip, and into the rushing tunnel of colors...

Only to get ran the fuck over by someone on a weird boat, ala the time travel sequence in hanamaru movie 1 !!

i don't know who it is atm but safe to say some poor toudan has to drag an unconscious yuichi onto his boat and bring him back to their citadel or the govt with him LOL

And from there... well, he learns everything he was hearing, was the result of latent spiritual abilities activating, and in his lowest, most distressed moment they sort of burst out, puncturing or pulling on the time-space pathway and making a hole... and the rest is history (pun intended)

maybe one day i'll write this out proper and add it to his bio. for now it's just gonna be in his tag cause i'm not very good at writing bios lol it's so awkward

ANYWAY i hope this made some kind of sense LOL?? and also that it isn't too depressing... he's better now... still plagued with depression and the gloominess but he is very loved <3 also after writing this it's so funny to me that he ... like... didn't really feel he had anything to go back to, so while as a formality there probably was a kind of ..."offer" of employment or whatever, and probably (definitely) some kind of rest period to make sure he was like... stable, lol... but other than that, he just kind of went from literally almost going off the deep end, to Saniwa

there was not really a "hmmm let me think about it and i'll get back to you" period he's just like "i think your confidence that i can do this is unearned but i don't really have a choice"

[silentdirection]

31-23

people grow at different rates. and that's fine. but if you're 25+ and still need a daily check-in, we aren't meant to be friends for long lmao. after having literally the most meaningful social interactions in this past 24 hour period than i have in this past entire year....there are a few factors that seem to be in common with each person i could converse with without actually blowing my brains out:

low maintenance relationships - we're adults now. we all have different lives and our own shit to deal with. this very fact makes us understand that if we can't get back to each other right away, it's fine. and if you don't actually want to hear it, that's okay too. at the end of the day, we can share but it's not necessary. after all, there is more work than play at this age and in our free time, the last fucking thing we want to do is go over someone else's shit. some people throw a fit when they can't be heard and all i'm thinking is - dude, there's a reason why they have an occupation where someone listens to you for money, it's called a therapist lol (side rant: it's ironic too, cause these same people expect you to listen to them, but they pay no particular attention to the shit you say).

self-awareness - we can admit when we are wrong or try to ask others if there are faults in our own thinking that's clouding our judgement. these people are my spirit animals. being aware of how our actions affect others should be a coarsely refined behavior learned by secondary school. but apparently, this trait is still rare under the age of 30 (at least, in my experience). you have people being perpetually depressed and always wondering why life sucks. like bro, fucking look inward for once and stop blaming the world or other people for your situation. if you're not an outlier case and you live in a first world country (which is 99% of anyone i've ever met), chances are you just do not fully appreciate what you have. but you know, fuck it, some of y'all keep playing the victim instead. stay completely unremarkable lol.

respect - if we tell each other no, we don't need an explanation. and even if one is provided, i can wholeheartedly understand if you made up some bullshit just to save face. i get it. sometimes, we simply change our minds last minute. and not for any particular reason. sometimes we just don't have the energy. (but no, no, some people will try and play detective just to make sure you have a valid alibi for saying no...what i do in my time is none of your fucking business, so please escort yourself to deleting me off social media and save me the trouble).

ever since i've rid myself of any "friendships" that lacked this kind of understanding....it's been so quiet, peaceful, and created room for accelerated mental growth. to the three people i've spoken to today with such depth, thanks for reminding me that people are not always fucking annoying. 2024_0804 1:36am sun

[casspurrjoybell-24]

My Mate - Chapter 12 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

Lifting my head tiredly, I squinted to see the other side of the bed was still empty.

As it has been for three days.

The only other person in the room was the older Omega in the chair by the bed.

I disliked her very much.

No matter that she's been making sure I'm eating and staying hydrated.

I have begged and cried for my Mate and no matter what, she won't get him for me.

I had thought 'my heat' was bad before but without Robert around, it's been insufferable.

"Good morning sweetheart, feeling any better?"

My eyes narrowed and my head dropped back down against the pillow.

I wanted her to go away... Mrs. Anne Ellis only laughed softly.

Who'd have thought my Home Economics Teacher would have such a sweet Mate.

The large pink glasses looked like she'd had them since the eighties and the thick baby blue crocheted sweater made me think she had ten cats at home.

She stood up and poured me a glass of orange juice from the cart that stayed supplied with everything I'd need.

I think Mom has been coming in to check on me but I couldn't really remember.

Pushing myself up against the headboard, I accepted the cold drink and greedily took a sip.

Thankfully, I didn't feel so bad today.

My body ached, as well as my head.

Like a hangover, only worse.

I never wanted to go through 'my heat' again.

Mrs. Anne reached out and felt my forehead, smiling when I didn't flinch away or cry out from pain.

"You're lucky it's ending so soon, sometimes it can last up to two weeks."

Choking on my orange juice, I tried not to spill it all over the bed.

Mrs. Anne took the glass, laughing at my reaction to her words.

If I had to endure two weeks of heat and I didn't kill myself first, I'd make sure to kill Robert... that asshole.

Making sure the sheet was wrapped around me, I struggled getting out of the bed... I needed a shower desperately.

"Your Mother brought you some clothes."

Anne pointed out the stack sitting neatly folded on the desk. So mom did come by.

I was stuck between thankful and embarrassed.

If I'm remembering correctly, most of my time had been spent begging for my Mate and whining in need, unable to get many words out.

Between the slick and the sweat, I felt clammy and dirty.

Almost tripping over the sheet wrapped around me, I eventually made it to the bathroom and took a very long, very hot shower.

In that time I thought of all the ways to make Robert pay for abandoning me while I was in such a vulnerable state.

Keying his car was at the forefront.

I'm almost positive he'd cry over that.

I didn't care though, he'd made me cry and go through 'the most painful heat' I've ever experienced.

All because of one comment I had made.

Which had really been a question I wanted an answer to.

Now more than ever.

Fuck a key, a bat will do more damage.

Finishing up in the shower, I sluggishly dried off and went out to the room for my clothes.

Mrs. Anne was gone, probably relieved that she didn't have to watch over me anymore.

It was strange having someone that wasn't my Mate witness me going through 'my heat'.

It wasn't unusual though... Omegas help each other all the time.

I've just always been alone because no one really likes me.

Robert must've sent Mrs. Anne to sit with me after he left without a word.

I don't know why he was so upset.

It wasn't like I lied or accused him of anything.

It was just a question.

Stomping out of the room... fully prepared to throw a fit... I came to an abrupt stop on the stairs.

Why was the pack house still crowded with foreign wolves?

Shouldn't they be gone by now?

Tripping, I caught myself on the banister and cautiously continued down the stairs.

Eyes turned to me, noses flaring as they picked up the last remaining sweetness from my Heat.

It wasn't strong enough to get them all worked up thankfully.

I glared at them all, not in a good mood.

It wasn't hard to find Robert.

His scent stood out to me, even with so many others all over the place.

He was too preoccupied to notice me in the doorway of the den.

A group of wolves around him, all of them wanting my Robert's attention.

Some were from our pack, some I didn't recognize.

My eyes went straight to that blond Omega laughing at something Robby had said.

I bristled, before pulling myself up straighter and walking towards them.

Robert's eyes finally met mine as I was halfway across the room, a smile lifting his lips.

When I didn't respond in kind, his smile fell and he had the right to look nervous.

Pushing through the small crowd, I situated myself between my Mate and that blond Omega.

'Why was he still here? I want him gone.'

Standing on my toes, I kissed the side of Robert's neck where my mark will one day be.

It made the big male groan and I smirked, turning around to face the others that were staring.

"Hello," I chirped sweetly, my smile growing in the face of their surprise.

"Luna," an Omega pushes herself forward, excitedly greeting me.

The title surprised me and I looked up at Robert who smiled encouragingly.

I hadn't expected that they'd want to talk to me too.

My goal was to come snatch Robert away so I could yell at him. Instead, I was pulled into conversation with them all.

Well, except the blond that rightfully disappeared.

They talked about everything, their family, friends, school.

What surprised me the most was how they all quieted down when I spoke, seeming to genuinely want my opinion on everything.

It was so odd, being the center of attention.

I made sure to tease Robby every chance I got, embarrassing him as others laughed along.

They wouldn't dare say any of it to his face but I hoped everyone would start referring to him as Robert.

If only to annoy him.

Eventually Robby had enough, lifting me off the ground and carrying me away.

My protest were drowned out by everyone's laughter.

He didn't put me down until he shut us into what looked like a office.

It wasn't his dad's because I've been in there before.

I wiggled out of his hold and stepped back, crossing my arms and glaring up at him.

He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face.

"Alright, let's talk."

[makeste]

im honestly scared for whats going to happen next. while i have no doubt that bakugou is the one who knows deku best, this is the first time hes reached out to him for dekus benefit. he understands him but most likely doesnt really know how to communicate with him. what they desperately need is an adult to help talk deku down instead of fighting him, but since most of the adults have proven themselves useless in this, I'm worried whats going to happen.

I meant to reply to this ask sooner, but it didn't really come together that way, so my apologies. the manga itself will probably provide a better answer than this within the next 24 hours, assuming the leaks come out as scheduled.

but in the meantime, I do want to say that I don't think there's any cause for worry here. the Kacchan of the past may have had difficulties communicating with Deku, because he never really understood the why of why Deku was doing things (so even though he's always been fairly good at predicting Deku's actions -- "don't come, Deku" -- he never really understood what was driving him to take those actions). but the Kacchan of the present definitely knows what he's doing imo.

there are two important things to keep in mind here. the first is that we know from past arcs that Katsuki is capable of remarkable insight when it comes to finding the right approach to reach out to someone.

what's notable about this scene from the Remedial arc is the way that he anticipates which approaches are not going to work. he's not the one to come up with the final plan, but he is the one to say to the others, "look, if we don't do this right, the kids are going to react like this, instead of like this." definitely something which I'd say is applicable to the current situation as well.

and the other thing to keep in mind is that if this chapter established anything, it's that Kacchan knows Deku better than anyone else.

he knew exactly how Deku was going to react. honestly we might as well have called this chapter "the nice and accurate prophecies of Kacchan." either that or, "I'm fine," after what is apparently Deku's favorite new mantra.

but anyway, so we've established that Kacchan canonically approaches situations like this with great care and anticipation for how the would-be-rescuee will react, and we've also established that Kacchan can predict Deku's reactions in particular with incredible accuracy. so given that, I think it's reasonable to assume that Kacchan has a plan here, and that there's a reason behind his specific choice of words.

"wow, real inspiring! all hail the mighty inheritor of One for All! but tell us this... are you smiling now?"

"do your worst, you All Might wannabe!!"

and this is the part where I was originally planning on writing out a much longer post, but for various reasons it never really came together. so I'll just try to summarize everything with bullet points instead.

the theme here is "OFA is a cursed power." this is something that has been steadily building up and intensifying for a while now. the past OFA users all died young. AFO drives them all into isolation and misery. the Vestiges think of OFA as a power that "is tasked with destroying AFO." Deku is now the last and only one left who can wield that power. it is a massive burden, and Deku believes that he has to carry that burden alone.

Katsuki knows exactly what is running through Deku's head right now, and has been anticipating this for a while. he read All Might's notebook. he knows what happened to all of the other OFA users. and he knows Deku well enough to understand that he fits right in with that legacy. back during the chapter 284 flashback he was clearly worrying about this exact type of scenario.

fast-forward to chapters 318 and 319. he finally tracks down Deku, and finds him looking like a trash bag that got forced through a paper shredder, surrounded by an angry mob of brainwashed civilians and NOT EVEN FIGHTING BACK AT ALL, go fucking figure. so he basically confirms with a single glance that his fears were well-founded, and that in his absence Deku has made significant progress down the path of being a complete dumbass.

Ochako then tries to reach out to Deku through words, just like Endeavor and All Might did before her, but he predictably responds with the exact same phrase Katsuki knew that he would use -- "I'm fine."

at this point Katsuki has heard all he needed to hear. he knows Deku is not going to listen. he knows that Deku believes that he can't listen, because in Deku's mind he has a responsibility to handle this all on his own, and he's afraid of putting anyone else in danger. Deku is fully embracing the "I must walk this path alone" legacy of OFA, just like All Might before him. and so Katsuki knows two things:

in order to have any hope of reaching Deku, he has to get him to understand that the legacy he's embracing is deeply flawed, and that the path he's on right now is one which ends in death and defeat, just like it did the first seven times.

and second, Deku is going to fight them, because Deku is stubborn like that. and Deku thinks that he's doing this for them. and so in order to reach him, they will have to fight back. that's a done deal.

hence the jeer about OFA, along with the pointed remark about him not smiling. and then two seconds later Deku does of course reveal his intentions to fight, just like Katsuki knew he would. and so Katsuki accepts the challenge, and also throws in a bonus jab about how Deku is perfectly emulating All Might now, just as he always wanted -- except that what he's actually emulating are all of All Might's worst aspects. his insistence on carrying his burdens alone; his reluctance to accept anyone else's help; and of course, his determination to carry on to the bitter end until his body literally breaks down.

and that is not the fate that Katsuki wants for Deku. he needs Deku to see that this is the wrong path. he needs to find a way to break past his stubbornness, just like Deku did for him, and for Todoroki, and for so many others. and so he goes on the attack. because, in the same way that Deku is willing to fight them in order to save them, Katsuki is willing to do and say and fight anything and anyone in order to save Deku -- and that includes Deku himself.

so yeah. he knows what he's doing. and I am absolutely positive that everything he's doing and saying here does serve a purpose. he will find a way to reach him. literally all of his character development has been building to this moment. Deku saved him all those times so that now, when it matters the most, he can save him in return, and he's not going to fail him now.

[voxmortuus]

Stalking Target

PAIRING: Stalker!Hannibal x F!Reader

UNIVERSE: Hannibal

SONG CHOICE: Animals - Marooon 5

WORDS: 1.3k

SUMMARY/PROMPT: Anon Prompt Request: Could I have a Hannibal x reader where he stalks the reader as he finds them interesting, but during the day reader avoids him at all costs bc he makes them feel small. The reader sees him one night and pretends not to know, the next day was an off day and they decide to leave the house but when they come back in the dead of night, Hannibal is there. Whatever happens next is up to you 🤗 thank you very much if you write this!!!!!!

NOTE: I left the ending very open, though non-consensual is implied, it is up to the reader to decide what happens in the end. I tried to stick as close to the request as possible. I felt the reader should be female at this moment, it stuck out to me the most, I apologize if this isn't what you were having in mind, but it's what was flowing through me at that moment. Outfit for reader is linked. I hope you enjoy it.

Trigger Warning(s): Stalking | Mild Language | Implied Non-Consensual Adult Situations | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this...

IMAGE CREDIT: Google I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OF THESE IMAGES. If these are yours or you know who the creator(s) is please INBOX me and let me know. Thank you.

My Master Masterlist | Hannibal Masterlist | Taglist | PART TWO

REQUESTS: OPEN

Watching, he's always watching. Day, night, he always knows where you are. He's always one to know where to look. Knowing your schedule, it was easy for him, maybe even too easy. You avoid anything during the day- you even got a new job working from home. It was becoming too much, the walls closing in on you.

Today had to be something different; you needed to venture out, to explore, to live. You needed something fun in your life, even for one moment. You wanted to remember what it was like out there; it was this need that you had to fill. Making plans, you were going to ignore him. You were going to pretend you didn't see him. Today was that day.

Waking up, you hop in the shower, follow your morning routine like you do every day. Shower, meds, and vitamins, style your hair, put on some makeup, get dressed. You opt for a cute black romper, a black hat with your favorite black purse with fringe, and black strappy sandals. You let out a heavy breath and look yourself over, nodding- you grab your keys lock your apartment, and head out for your day.

You know he's across the way, sitting reading the paper. A sigh escapes your lips, and you head down the sidewalk to the cafe. You decide you're going to treat yourself to your favorite iced beverage and a pastry of the day, a blueberry cream-filled croissant. Taking a seat by the window, you look down at your phone, looking outside, and notice he didn't follow you. A small sigh of relief fell from your lips.

Why was he so insistent on being around you? The way he made you feel was this tiny, vulnerable thing, and that wasn't what you wanted. You didn't even know how to express that, and the police were out of the question. Your hair on your neck would stand on end, would make your dreams weird, and any noise or knock on your door sent sheer panic through your veins. But today, you weren't going to let that bother you.

After you finished your croissant and decide to head to a few stores, the book store being your first stop, looking for anything interesting. The only thing interesting was the cashier who decided he wanted to flirt with you. You ended up buying something anyway, some Anne Rice book. Heading out with a new book and his number.

After your book shop adventure, you had decided you needed some new leggings. Your favorite store was just a little way down. Stepping in, you look around and smile, shooting a wave to the cashier, and start to browse. You let your day proceed without any worry.

Hannibal had been sitting outside, watching yet not. At this point, it was more of a routine for him. Reading his paper, he had turned the page, reading the obituaries. Chuckling a tiny bit, he looked down at the end of the page and back up to spot that you had left, and he watched you walk away.

Standing up, he folded his paper, sticking it under his arm, looking both ways before crossing the street. Looking up at your building, he makes his way inside and up to your apartment floor; looking at the door, he smirks as he reaches into his pocket and picks his way in.

Closing the door softly behind him, he locks it and finds himself in your kitchen. Taking it upon himself to do your dishes in the sink, a cup, and a small plate. Placing them on the drying rack, he drys his hands off on the hand towel on the stove and puts it back.

Looking around your apartment, he walks further in, observing the odds and ends, your writing on the open notebook by your computer, the photos on the wall. As he continues to walk through your home, he finds your bedroom. Looking over the bed, neatly made, your medications and vitamins sitting on the bedside table. Picking up a few bottles, he arches his brow and places them back down.

His fingertips graze the blanket on your bed as he makes his way to your closet. He stops and watches out the window for a moment. Watching the people outside as they argued, a soft chuckle escaped his lips, shaking his head. His right hand reached out and opened your closet door. Looking at the drab colors of clothing, he closed it.

Eventually, he made his way to the bathroom. Looking over the various odds and ends, your makeup, your face wash, your towels, how neat and tidy your bathroom was. He departed from the bathroom heading back to the living room. Hannibal sat in a corner near no windows and sat there, waiting for you to come home.

Looking at your phone, you decide it was time to head home. 11:06pm was what was read. You catch a cab, and the cab brings you home. Paying your fair and climb out of your car and make your way inside.

Unlocking your door, you walk in, close the door behind you. Deciding to go do your dishes after putting everything down, and notice they were already done. Maybe I already did them. You tell yourself you shrug it off and walk into your bedroom and strip down, throwing on a pair of loose-fitting sweat pants and a loose oversized tank top.

Heading to your living room, you turn on a desk lamp and open your laptop and take a seat. Looking at the bright screen as it powers back on from sleeping, you let out a soft breath. Looking over the screen, you type in your passcode and rub your face leaning back.

You hear a clearing of a throat, and you gasp. Looking around spooked, you see this pair of eyes in the corner of the room; you rub your face again. You are hoping that you imagined things, but that wasn't the case. Hannibal was really here, really sitting in your living room waiting for you.

"What the fuck are you doing in my home?" You growl, standing up.

"Sit down, Y/N. Don't get too loud."

"No, you don't have the right to order me around. Get the fuck out!"

"Don't be hasty, Y/N, take a seat, talk to me." He pleads.

You shake your head and ball your hands into little fists of anger and clench your jaw. "I said, get out!" You yell.

"I told you not to get loud." He gently stated, standing up.

"I DON'T CARE! YOU DON'T HAVE THE RIGHT TO BE IN MY HOME! GET THE FUCK OUT BEFORE I CALL THE POLICE!" You scream.

"And tell them what? You saw a strange man in your home? With what you take every day, they won't believe that. Especially if they find no one in your home. So think wisely, Y/N." You didn't like his tone, it was condescending, and it seemed snooty, and you wanted to smack the look right off his face.

"Fuck you, GET OUT!" You scream again.

Shaking his head, he looks at you, "I warned you. I just wanted to merely talk. You wouldn't even give me that. I just want your company." His tone was gentle, soft, and dark at the same time. It was like his eyes went black. He stepped closer to you, and you grew nervous.

Looking at him, watching as he approaches you, your nerves got the better of you. You went running towards your bedroom, but he quickly grabbed your wrist and yanked you close to him as he covered your mouth. You try to bite his hand, but he was quick to prepare for that.

You stomp on his foot, and his knee buckles a moment, but by the time you go to slam your door, he is right at your heels. His hand slammed against the door, pushing his way in, locking it behind him. He stands here, looking over you as you back yourself against the wall. He towers over you, looking deep into your eyes.

"I warned you, Y/N. You really would have wished you listened by the time I'm done with you." Hannibal tells you.

[spitefulcrepechan]

Buckle up everyone yer girl's about to beat a dead horse.

Ok so one thing that kinda disappoints me is the fact that the cookie run fandom kinda forgot the fact that Moonlight's not a goddess of the moon, but rather an entity who guards a city of wizards via sleeping.

Yeah, she has a very apparent moon aesthetic but thats cuz the moon has heavy associations with magic, it doesn't mean she's from the moon or anything. Other than magic, the moon is also associated with sleep, and Moonlight is more powerful when she's asleep, so it'll only make sense to make a magic narcoleptic themed around the night.

Everyone just sees that Sea Fairy is attracted to the moon and believe that Moonlight is said moon.

And not only does Moonlight not have Sea Fairy in her relationships

Nowhere does it say she's from the moon or anything. She was probably made with moonlight, but again moonlight is associated with witchcraft and wizardry, and it says here that she was created by ancient wizards, presumably with moonlight, hence the bloody name.

While I do like seamoon, its pretty shitty to say that its a canon ship without even the slightest bit of evidence and bash people for not shipping it, when there's more evidence to support that Seamoon is and probably never will be canon then that they'll ever BE canon.

The only two forms of evidence i can find of Seamoon being even vaguely implied is the fact that Sea Fairy has Moonlight in her relationships, but as stated above, those feelings are one-sided and it never explicitly says that she's in love with Moonlight, just the fact that she trusts her.

Sea Fairy probably only likes her cuz she was made with moonlight, which uh

Dunno about you but that's kinda shotty

"Oh but trust obviously means they're in love, you're just a lesbophobic bitch who can't understand co-"

Yah wanna fucking explain this then?

Or this?

Hell, even with characters that we know arent children, I dont see people shipping people like Spinach and Carrot together GODDAMN

Can you use relationships as a basis to ship two cookies? Yes, yes, you can. But you also don't HAVE to, such as with the Angel x Devil ship where Angel trusts Devil while Devil sees Angel as a rival

But uh idk kinda common sense to not harass and call someone lesbophobic just cuz they don't ship seamoon and claim that its canon due to the "lesbian-coding" sea fairy has.

1. Sea Fairy has no such thing, she doesn't even have any links that so much as hint towards any form of love towards woman.

2. Either shit or get off the pot

Lesbian-coding imo, or sexuality coding in general, is kinda bullshit because if you want so badly to tell someone that this character is one thing, just flat out say it, quit feeding us breadcrumbs and expect us to be satisfied. Why do you have to make every single goddamn thing vague and implied? How hard is it to just flat out tell us that yes this character is not straight or cis? Sod off.

Devsisters doesn't even code their characters, they either leave it fully up to interpretation or flat out say that "yeah, these two are in a relationship", but even then yah don't have to follow canon, except when it comes to ages of course.

Moonlight nor Sea Fairy aren't coded to be together or even lesbians because nO SUCH CODING EVEN EXISTS AND EVEN IF IT DID IT'S FUCKING BULLSHIT BECAUSE IT'S IMPLICATION NOT BLUNTNESS AND ITS VERY SHOTTY IMPLICATION AT BEST

If you wanna ship Seamoon regardless of all this? Go ahead, I'm right along with yah. If we don't have to folllow the canon that almond and roguefort have tension together, you don't have to follow the canon that sea fairy and moonlight aren't actually together and you can headcanon them to be lesbians if you wish.

But uh I DON'T KNOW maybe don't attack people for not having the same headcanon as you??? And maybe don't throw "Lesbian-coding" as the bullshit evidence of that ship being canon?? Cuz there's no evidence of Sea Fairy nor Moonlight being lesbian coding???? The fuck's wrong with you people-

Unless you can prove to me with screenshotted evidence that seamoon is explicitly canon, it's all just fanon and heresy that sea fairy and moonlight are together. Leave Seapirate shippers alone, leave seafire shippers alone, leave every single shipper where they don't ship Sea Fairy or Moonlight cookie, regardless of their pronouns, alone. And before you go on a tangent about them being shipped with men, he/him lesbians exist, gender does not equal pronouns, you can go by they/them pronouns and still identify as a cisgender woman, and even if the shipper has the cookie shipped with either Moonlight or Sea Fairy headcanonned as a male, WHAT THE FUCK DOES IT MATTER

WLW representation needed??? BITCH WE HAVE ALL THE WLW REPRESENTATION WE NEED and what about stuff like Pan or Poly representation too? Don't polymorphic people deserve some kind of representation too? Bi people? Asexual people??? You're so concerned about lesbians having representation that you're forgetting about all the other sexualities that could also fit into wlw as well. It's woman loves woman, not lesbian loves lesbian.

So long as people ain't shipping children with adults(looking at you, proshippers. Go to hell) let people ship whoever the fuck they want.

God one minute im talking about an overseen moonlight fact and then im talking more about how people shouldn't gatekeep i promise I'll post something more lighthearted next-

[rizubaby]

General nsfw headcanons | Nekomaru Nidai.

genre ; nsfw headcanons.

request ; nsfw headcanons for Nekomaru.

tags ; gn!reader, size difference, (slight) breeding, oral, mentions of (consensual) exhibitionism, vulgar language.

note ; holy FUCK I thirst for this man wayyy more than is necessary, but here we are. Thanks to whoever requested this bc this feeds my hunger for Nekomaru smut lmao xx

This is an 18+ post. Minors dni.

THIS. MAN. IS. HUGE.

And I'm not just talking about his physique

I feel like he could practically pick you up with one arm, throw you over his shoulder and just take you to wherever he wants to fuck you senseless

Musclessss

I mean, he knows how to put his strength to good use, and it shows

He doesn't even have to put in any effort to hold you down when he's fucking you, he loves the sight of you being unable to move your way out of his grip and struggle to take his massive cock

The stamina this man posesses is unmatched, what the actual fuck

Like I've said before, you'll have to tap out yourself before you literally pass out

He won't stop unless you tell him; it almost seems like he doesn't have a limit. This man can seemingly keep going forever

If he's particularly horny, chances are he won't even listen to you and just keeps going until he is fully satisfied

Oh and how he loves the sight of you having lost your damn mind, drooling while his thick cum pours out of you

Again, being the Ultimate Team Manager, it isn't weird for him to praise and encourage you a lot when you're having sex

He'll say things like "Keep going!" and "You're doing so well babe!" in that deep boisterous voice of his

He's also surprisingly good at dirty talk??This man is unbelievable

The way he suddenly softly grunts into your ear (in contrast to his usual loudness) about how fucking amazing and tight you feel,, holy shit

"You're gonna take all of my cum in that pretty little hole, yeah?"

You'd think he'd be pretty oblivious to how much you struggle with his size, but he's secretly really into it. Your pained moans and how incredibly tight you fit around him makes him go nuts

I also love how unapologetic this man is

Like with pretty much everything else he does, if he's horny and wants to bang, he'll prompty exclaim it and just pick you up and carry you to wherever he deems fitting to absolutely destroy you

Imagine you're hanging out with some friends and he suddenly just goes: "HEY GUYS, ME AND S/O ARE GONNA BANG, WE'LL BE BACK LATER!"

This cracks me up so much but it's actually pretty hot too ngl

The things that turn him on the most are by far your moans/screams. If you dig your nails into his back too, he won't be able to stop

God he loves breeding you over and over again. Not because of the risk factor, but just because he absolutely loves the idea of filling you to the brim with his cum and having it leak out of you because it's just so much

I think he's lowkey into consensual exhibitionism too. If someone were to watch you two having sex, he'd be pretty into it

Hell, maybe he'll even bring up the idea of making a sextape. If not for the viewing of others, then just for himself

He'd love to be able to see you getting fucked by him from different angles, and if he's ever alone and needs to relieve himself, he'll have something to watch.

And just like with his amazing massages, once you've been fucked by him once, you'll get addicted and can't live without it anymore. ♡

[ponds-puddle]

Threats ~{Shinsou}~ (6/??)

words: 1404

Hey guys! Sorry this took so long. Some of you may have seen that post that I made about my dog, and I'm thankful to say that she was able to get her surgery and she (as of yesterday) is fully recovered and happy. Thank you guys so much for waiting! Here's part 6!

-

“If you do not put that down right now I will throw this at you,” you threatened Shinsou from across the island in your kitchen. He was on the opposite side holding your journal. He laughed maniacally, waving the little book around. In all honesty he had no intention to read it. He picked it up while cleaning off the table and loved the way you dove at him in an attempt to get it away from him. After a ten minute chase around the island, you settled on opposite sides with your choice of weapons. His was your book and yours… Well yours was a flower vase.

“You’re so violent!” he laughed loudly, acting as if he wasn’t the least bit intimidated. Though after seeing the sheer determination and force of your dive to get it away from him, he was actually slightly scared you’d throw it.

“And you’re annoying! Put it down!”

“Or what?” he teased.

“This vase is made out of granite, wanna test me?”

Shinsou thought for a moment, looking between you and the vase. After a second he slowly placed the book on the counter and threw his hands up in surrender.

“God,” he laughed as you snatched the book like a crazed goblin, “You’re kinda terrifying.”

“Yeah and don’t forget it,” you threatened as you walked to your room to hide the book.

When you returned to the kitchen, Shinsou was delicately chopping ingredients for the dinner the two of you had bought. It had become a sort of tradition now. Every week you would go out to get groceries and Shinsou would accompany you. Afterwards you would hole up in your house, cooking and binging shows. The two of you would play a round of rock/paper/scissors to see who would have the honors of picking the show. This has been going on for three weeks now and Shinsou never got to pick a show. Though you suspect that he’s losing on purpose. He likes The Vampire Diaries, he just won’t admit it.

“What’s so secret about that book?” he asked you without looking up.

You made a face at him, one that screamed “did you get dropped as a baby?”

“I went through all of that and you think that I’m gonna come out here and tell you exactly what I was trying to keep you from reading?”

Shinsou stopped chopping and looked up at you, “One, attitude. Two, you’re right.”

“Exa-”

“So I’ll just guess.”

“No,” you deadpanned.

“Your secret family recipes?”

Silence.

“A detailed list of everyone you’ve ever killed?”

“Woah that escalated, you weirdo.”

“Ah but I got an answer from that one!”

“Point taken, no more replies.”

You walked briskly to the sink to wash your hands, ignoring the multiple guesses Shinsou threw your way. All ranging from normal to “seriously what is wrong with you?”.

“Is it a detailed account of all the feelings you have for me?”

“Oh of course,” you snorted, “It starts with unadulterated anger.”

“OO! Big word!” Shinsou jokingly praised, poking his lip out with his puppy dog eyes, “They grow up so fast.”

“Don’t make me get the vase.”

Shinsou raised his hands in defeat, chuckling softly to himself.

“You’re such a toddler,” you laughed at him, going to stand beside him to help prep the ingredients.

“Well you’re the weird one for willingly hanging out with a toddler.”

“Excuse me,” you scoffed with offense, “Toddlers are cool as heck. At holidays I like to hang with them over the adults. I mean come on. It's either relationship drama and taxes or two little humans beating the shit out of each other and pretending to be dinosaurs. The choice is obvious, no?”

Shinsou bit back a smile and simply nodded, trying to mask his humor with a “sophisticated” tone, “Oh of course. No argument here.”

You smiled up at the tall boy, a playful smile on your lips. His eyes flickered down to yours, catching your attention completely. Cliche stars and cupid songs shot off in your head, but you were more concerned with the slight disarray of his hair. There was a single strand out of place, most likely from the fight earlier. You tried to hide your grimace at the cliche atmosphere that was surrounding you right now. But despite it, you bounced onto your tip-toes and reached for the hair, lightly moving it to it’s spot.

You tried to ignore the way you hear Shinou inhale when your fingertips brushed through your hair. You tried to ignore the burning sensation you felt from his lavender irises as they inspected every small feature of your face, painfully enjoying the fleeting moment of closeness you had created. But try as you might, you let your eyes flicker to his. You felt swirling in your stomach, like happy bubbles. It weirded you out to be honest.

“Don’t look at me like that when I’m holding a knife, Y/N,” Shinsou chuckled nervously, breaking eye contact instantly. You dropped back down off your toes, turning to your ingredients with a hushed tone, “Sorry you had a stray hair.”

During the show you were sitting criss-cross on the couch with Shinsou below you. He was slowly working on his bowl of food while you had finished yours forever ago. You always mock him about being a slow eater and he always replies the same.

“Maybe I’m trying to stay a little longer.”

That made no sense to you, he always stays even after eating. It’s normally until you pass out and he heads home. He’s a lot better at the whole insomnia thing than you are.

“Stefan annoys me,” Shinsou groaned pathetically, placing his bowl on the ground beside him. Nakoma eagerly ran towards it but was scooped up by the purple haired boy before she could get a taste. She wiggled angrily for a moment, but eventually settled into his arms.

“Why?” you snorted, used to his complaining over this show by now.

“He’s portrayed as some hero, right?”

“Well-”

“Well nothing,” he huffed sassily, “He’s not a hero. He’s a bad guy. And he’s over here fucking with Elena’s life which, in my opinion, makes him an even worse guy.”

“Well I don’t think Elena would even let him get away at this point. I mean she loves him, right? She doesn’t care about what he’s done.”

Shinsou turned and looked at you with a blank face, “Look at me in my eyes and tell me you’d date a mass murderer.”

You looked at Shinsou and smiled, “I’m not a Stefan girl, but if a mass murderer who looked like Damon Salvatore showed up, it would be all over. I’d go Harley Quinn in this bitch, no questions.”

“No question?”

“None.”

“You’re a mess, you know that?”

“Oh but you like that about me right?”

“I never said I liked you.”

You gasped dramatically, holding your hands over your heart, “That’s it, I’m broken.”

“You just admitted you’d date a mass murderer, I think you were broken before you met me.”

“Shinsou!” you yelled, “That’s it, you lost Nakoma privileges. Give her to me now.”

“No,” he scoffed, cuddling her sweetly, “She likes me better anyways.”

“Sir, I’m gonna ask you to leave if you don’t watch your mouth.”

Shinsou raised his eyebrows comically at you, a small smirk on his lips.

“Say it again,” he said in the most dramatic tone, eliciting a smile on your lips. You tried to bite it down but the way he just stared at you with the most teasing smile had you wanting to burst into a fit of laughter.

“You’re demented.”

“You like that about me.”

“Who said I liked anything about you?”

“Your notebook.”

“You didn’t even read it!”

“Did I?”

The two of you stared each other down. For a moment you thought he had actually read it, but at the same time there was no way he could’ve, right?

“You didn’t.”

“Did I?”

“Did you?”

Shinsou shrugged, “I didn’t, but you definitely just gave away the fact you’ve written about me in it.”

“No I didn’t!”

“Sure you didn’t.”

“Shut up and finish your food, jackass,” you finally huffed, crossing your arms angrily while turning to the show. Shinsou smiled at your blushing figure for a moment longer before turning back around to the show. He didn’t stop grinning until he left that night.

---

taglist (just send me a message!): @just-a-girl-with-alot-of-issues @pansexualproblemchild @delicatefleur

[fakeloveaskblog]

Heeeelloo! Back from the haunted house!

How are you tonight, blog owner?

Maybe a weird request but I kinda wanna know how it's going with Virgil and his parents. Virgil, how are you right now? (Still don't like you though)

Also every character, drink some water or get water thrown over you.

~Ghost

(Hello!! Hope the haunting house is treating you well C: Well i only got 2 more tests and a few works to finish and then I'm done with school!! for the summer obv but still! what a relief. Are y'alls summer breaks coming up soon? I'm just assuming we're all in a similar age range khfkj)

Virgil's cheeks had gone dark with smeared out eyeliner. Without the usual excessive amount of hairspray his hair was hanging down in front of his face, hiding most of it. For the first time in over 5 years he had been too busy to remember to redye his hair. Messy dirt blond roots stood out from the black and purple.

To his chest was not only his plushie spider but also his poster of Gerard Way tightly clutched. You could just barely hear the notes of incredibly emo music coming from his headphones.

He was literally laying curdled up on the mattress in his childhood room. His angst was too big to fit the bed apparently.

He felt a cold chill rise up his spine as you went further into the room. When he looked up and saw you he nearly jumped back in surprise before grabbing onto the closest thing he could touch and throwing it right at you.

The bottle he had thrown went through you since you're a ghost. Which he was just a bit happy over, he hadn't actually wanted to hurt you.

"You're HERE? A ghost fucker is HERE??? Life fucking hates me! I thought you ghost things only could haunt my apartment! Don't you dare swing your fucking ghost hands around my parents, Okay!? I will fuck you up! I will- I will throw a SECOnd bottle at you!! See how you like that!"

Your message played and he sneered.

"How I am? How do you think I am!? I'm losing everything! Everything is disappearing from my control! I'm losing Remy! I'm losing my only love! I'm losing myself if I lose Remy!!"

His breathe started to quicken. He didn't even try to hide the tears that swelled up the moment he thought about losing them.

"I- I'm going to be all alone for forever! They're being taken from me! I'm- I can't- I'll be nothing! I can't lose them! I can't take the fear of losing them again! I can't! I can't!"

He'd gone over to fully hyperventilating. He was holding onto the plushie so hard his fingertips turned pure white.

You reached out your deathly cold hand and put it against the side of his neck. He jumped and stared with wide eyes at you, but then stilled. Your blue hue wavered in rhythm with calm breathes and he followed along until his breathing was only a little ragged.

"t-thanks" He mumbled out before forcing himself to roll his eyes "Or whatever I guess" He fiddled with one of the plushie's spider legs "You hate me. I hate you. But you get it right? I can't lose them. I can't let them go. We need each other. Janus or the Remus or whatever have just confused them! Or like messed up their head! So they think they don't need me. But they do! Those two won't love them like I do!"

A knock came on the bedroom door. Virgil pulled himself up from the ground and tried to hide the obvious tear streaks with his bangs before he opened.

"Hey Vivzie Ditzy" Dot said as she peeked inside the darkly lit room "I know that you're an adult and you can make your own food and all that buuut some soup just happened to get leftover from dinner so" She held up a little plastic box filled with chicken soup "You want some?"

Virgil grimaced a little and then shrugged "I'm not really hungry. I'm surviving off of eating fruit loops like a horse"

"I thought you had stopped doing that"

"It's the only sensible way to eat cereal"

"Sure honey. Me and Larry are downstairs if you want to talk or just sit with us"

"I'm uh all good ma"

Dot sent him a short smile before stepping out of the doorway. He closed the door again and leant his forehead against the dark wood. He let out a sigh. His shoulders had tensed without him noticing.

"You don't have to talk if you don't want to" Dot's light voice came from the other side of the door "But I had assumed you were visiting to spend time with us. It's something else isn't it?"

"It's just...normal adult like stuff" Virgil lied.

"You wouldn't be shutting yourself in like this if nothing was happening. You're acting like how you were when you were 15, and we both know how tough a time that was for you"

"I can handle it"

"We'll be here sweetie. You don't have to talk, but you can"

Virgil let the door sway open, if just a bit. He looked out at her but couldn't meet her eyes.

"Me and Remy are fighting" He let out bluntly, shakily.

A look of remorse filled her face "Oh sweetie"

He sat down on the bed and kept fiddling with the spider plushie. He focused on his eyes alone. The weight of the mattress shifted as Dot sat down next to him.

"I'm losing them" He mumbled out.

"Falling out of love doesn't mean you have to say goodbye" She replied softly.

"We're not!- I'm not...I'm not...I love them....I think they love me....it's just....we....it's not working...I..."

For just a second he considered telling the truth.

"....I don't know what's wrong. Everything just keeps going like all messed up between us. I just want it to go back to normal" He lied.

Dot furrowed her brows just a bit, unsure of how say this "Well Vivzie...Sometimes people just grow apart. I mean you and Remy have been dating during the entire time your brains have been developing the most. You've basically dated at least 7 different versions of each other. It's natural that eventually the people you were when the relationship began would be so different from the people you are now that you would just...have to let go to continue on in life. It doesn't have to be a tragedy. God knows how fast most high school couples break apart. It's honestly been a miracle you've held together so long. I am So glad me and Larry met after our brains had fully developed. Oh boy!"

Virgil's lips began to quiver, he didn't want to hear the truth "I- I really want it to work out" His voice shook.

Dot stroked her hand up and down his back "I know honey"

"I really I really want us to work" He cried.

"I know honey"

"If Remy isn't with me how- how do I- How do I know that they're safe. I have to make sure they're okay. If- if they're with me I can make sure they're okay. They need me. I know what's best. I can keep them- I can keep them-"

"Virgil, Remy's already safe" Dot murmured out while moving her arms around him "They're an adult. They're living far away from this town. They can take care of themself. They're safe. He is dead Virgil. Nothing is going to hurt them anymore. He. Is. Dead"

It was ugly tears that went down his cheeks. He buried his face against his mother's soft cardigan as he cried. She pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head.

"Oh sweetie I know that whenever we asked if you wanted to get therapy for your anxiety you said no but we really should have pushed it a little harder huh. I can't imagine what seeing your partner go through all that would do to you at such a young age"

Virgil shook his head but of course she couldn't see that. He didn't want to remember. He didn't want to accept the truth. He didn't want to accept what- who he had become.

He didn't want to look in the mirror anymore. It made him sick to his stomach.

Maybe he was crying because he started to doubt if he could still love Remy just as much even when they weren't being hurt. Maybe he needed their pain to feel a sense of normality. Maybe he couldn't let them go because he had to have someone to hurt.

"You want to go down to the living room with me hun? There's some ice cream in the fridge. We can rewatch The nightmare before Christmas if you want?"

Virgil sniffled and wiped off snot onto his hoodie sleeve before nodding.

"Okay hun. C'mon, get up, one leg in front of the other"

She kept her arms around him as they left the dark bedroom behind.

[Because of Dot being in close distance of a watcher she will now be open for asks for a short amount of in story time. Talking to her isn't necessary to advance the plot, but the chose is in the watchers hands if they feel they want to talk to her]

[xenoshadow13]

Kim I feel I should apologize to you about my uh friend. I already sent a message to Punk about what they done so if you're curious you can ask Punk or wait til she pointed it. It mostly involved Punk's Pico so that's why I sent my request to her but... I didn't mention this due to the message already getting so long but my friend had also been very, uh, rude about your oc Xeno.

I rather not say much cuz, uh, it was not nice at all. But to sum up their thoughts on Xeno, they basically said, to quote them, "Xeno needs to hurry the fuck up and get their act together. I'm sorry that bullshit happened to them but they should've had plenty of time to get their damn act together. They're a grown ass adult so they better start acting like it".

ACTUALLY WAIT LEMME SHARE WHAT THEY HAD TO SAY IN RESPONSE TO LEARNING THAT XENO'S YOUNGER BROTHER CONTRIBUTED TO SOME OF THEIR TRAUMA AND HOW XENO STILL HAS SOME CONFLICTING EMOTIONS TOWARD HIM:

"Wait, Xeno still harbors some bitterness toward their brother even now? My god. They need to grow the fuck up and get over it already. It's been like, what, fucking years now? And they're still feeling bitterness toward him over some bullying he done as a child? Ugh. I'm sorry but if you're gonna to hold shit against someone who was too young to know better than you, in my opinion, deserved all of the bad shit that happens to you"

For the record yes we did try to correct them but they refuse to listen asjkdasjk

Anon, with all due respect, I think you should dropped this "friend" of yours. I don't know what they said about Punk's Pico, but I think I can guess easily that it's nothing nice considering what you shared there.

Oh and here's a little message for your so-called "friend" which I shall put under a readmore due to how long it has gotten.

With all due respect, it's not that simple. It's never fucking simple when it comes to these sorts of issues, especially ones caused by trauma. It's especially difficult when it's shit that's from early childhood days for very obvious reasons.

Oh and for the record, to call the shit Xeno's brother done to them as a kid as "bullying" is a fucking insult to them. Xeno and their brother used to be watched by an aunt in Xeno's early pre-schooler days. This aunt was not only VERY abusive toward Xeno but also favored their brother greatly to the point that she ALWAYS believed him over them. And he took advantage of this VERY OFTEN, even going as far as to make up lies for the pettiest of reasons.

Now, I want to stress that Xeno's brother was NOT a bad kid by heart and even adored his older sibling. However, during this time he was quite the spoiled brat and would often throw a fit over being told no. He also, like all little kids his age, thought the adults of the family always knew best.

However, just because he was too young to comprehend the situation or the damage his actions were doing to their sibling does NOT mean he is completely innocent. He might have been too young to know better but he KNEW he was doing something wrong. He also thought it was funny every time he was able to "get back" at their sibling for "being a meanie". Sometimes Xeno wouldn't even do anything wrong but simply want to rest, and yet that's sometimes enough for their brother to go to their aunt.

He regrets it now of course. Xeno knows this too and DO forgive him for the most part. However that bitterness? It's something that they can't help and unlikely something that they'll be able to, quote you, "get over" fully.

Oh and FYI Xeno is quite aware of this and knows it's unfair since their brother was only a child and one who was too young to know better and, most importantly, is doing their best to work on it. Hell, it's pretty much more or else kept tight away too. Not gone of course, but enough that they can interact with their brother without much problems for the most part.

Now, with all of that said, please do us all a favor and kindly fuck the hell off.

[power-chords]

Post-trip round-up, integration, thoughts (cut for length & some Heavy Shit)

WOW I needed that and I am so glad I realized I needed that. It has been well over ten years since I last took LSD, and my reluctance to indulge in psychedelics again was rooted in a long and complicated history that I don't really need to hash out here, but doing a mild dose of mushrooms last weekend gave me the confidence and conviction that I was ready.

Would it have been wiser to take a less bonkers dose for the first time in a decade plus? Probably! Do I regret a single moment of it? Not a whit! It's tough to overstate just how powerful, therapeutic, and restorative a good acid trip is, even an occasionally intense, uncomfortable one. I do not recommend eating multiple tabs of extremely good blotter on your first rodeo, but Adam's even more of a veteran psychonaut than I am, so I was 1000% well cared for, totally safe, and in a comfortable, familiar environment. In that setting, and in a positive frame of mind, acid is not going to throw anything at you that you are not equipped to handle. I would love to make this an annual or biannual thing.

The cool, funny, wacky delightful stuff:

Put it under my tongue at 10 AM-ish. Went to go listen to some music and doodle until it kicked in. I forgot that the come-up is like, do not make any fucking plans involving hand-eye coordination LMAO. I was trying to doodle Bowery Ballroom in an old sketchbook, and that devolved quickly. The markers were old so some of the caps were really stuck on there, and I wound up devolving into fits of laughter from the absurdity of pulling the caps off with my teeth.

Ink stains on my hands started writhing and trailing and were very cool. That was the first thing I noticed. I got very sad that I stopped drawing and making art, which was something I did all my life and almost went to school for but stopped doing as an adult. And then I realized I could start drawing again any time if I wanted to, and I didn't have to be GOOD at it or a proper artist for it to be worthwhile and fun. Felt immediately happy again.

Adam decided to watch Lethal Weapon???? I was like, Don't Like That. Even though he had headphones on and I couldn't hear anything. I am ambivalent about screens at best when I'm tripping, and at worst I don't even want to be in the same room with them. Guns and violence seemed comically, brutally stupid. Turned my back to the TV and continued drawing and writing until I could no longer hold a pen. Eventually Adam got on my wavelength and was like yeah, this is too much! (He took like, twice the dose that I did. I have no idea how he was even able to talk to me, but he managed!)

Felt the need to message Liana while peaking, picked up my phone, and saw that she had already sent me this:

I thought that was HILARIOUS (tbh it actually was, and it was not just the acid talking)

For the first few hours of teeth-grinding, reality-shearing intensity, Adam and I mostly lounged in bed with the shades pulled all the way up and the window open, cuddling and petting Ernie. Fantastic bonding experience for the whole fam.

Looking at every surface in the apartment became like looking at a stained glass ceiling, or an infinite mandala, or the muddied rainbows in oil-slicked puddles. It looked like Ernie's fur was breathing and someone had colored all over the white parts of him with a highlighter. Adam agreed with this assessment. Formica on the kitchen counters was bananas. So were the trees outside, rippling like celluloid and brighter green than I had ever seen them.

The two of us spent a good 15 minutes doubled over with laughter because Adam suggested a contraption for funneling Fancy Feast directly into Ernie's mouth, kind of like shotgunning a beer

Adam: "I can't believe I used to to this and get on the subway and try to do things with people." Me: "What? How did you even figure out how to get from Point A to Point B?" Adam: "I mean, we didn't, really. We usually got lost. It was fine, though." Truly, it's about the friends you make along the way!

The second half of the trip, when things are starting to mellow out a bit, is when you become a real rock star. I went outside for a walk around the neighborhood, and to sit in the park with my headphones on while watching kids play on the playground, and it was ECSTATIC. I was just overjoyed. My face still hurts from smiling.

Forgot that I needed money to realize my goal of obtaining a popsicle, so I had to detour back into the apartment and explain all of this to my husband before resuming the popsicle quest. He thought it was very funny, but sympathized.

Fresh air, popsicles and San Pellegrino on acid. On another level! 100/10.

Bathrooms still universally suck, LOL. -10/10. Not a fan of that bathroom while tripping face! Every time I had to pee it was like WELL here we go again into the Pink Squirming Hell Chamber (I am making this sound like more of a big deal than it actually was)

15 HOURS. 15 HOURS Jesus Christ lmao I did not stop seeing weird shit on screens and surfaces until like 1 AM. And even then, if I stared long enough, funky colors and patterns would re-emerge. It's a commitment. I feel happy and refreshed, but also totally exhausted. Definitely have to budget a full weekend of No Plans for any future trips.

The Heavy Shit:

There is some Cronenberg-level body horror right before the visuals get super rainbow-stained and stereotypically psychedelic, which sounds bad, but I promise it isn't. It's watching the veins pulse under your skin and change into very saturated colors, pores and hair and scars become very defined and wiggly, and as someone who has so much bodily anxiety related to my alopecia/IBS, it was weirdly... freeing? You get to experience all this stuff in an entirely new frame of mind, shedding judgment and old thought ruts. I remember thinking, "I do not need to feel shame about my body," and letting go of so much baggage.

At some point mid-afternoon I decided to retrieve my phone from the drawer again, and saw that I had a missed call and a voicemail from my dad. I decided to play it back, and he was just phoning to tell me that he was listening to a live version of "Sally Simpson" and Keith was doing this thing where he wasn't even touching the cymbals, and had I listened to that specific performance before and noticed the same thing, and wasn't he truly the greatest drummer that ever lived? "Anyway, no need to call me back, just wanted to let you know. I love my bubbie!" (His term of endearment for me.) And I went to go sit in bed and weep for a straight 15 minutes, the most cleansing, purging cry you could possibly imagine, while Adam hugged me and rubbed my back. I was overwhelmed, overcome by this feeling of cosmic Love and Connection with my family and my husband and all of my friends.

I had been sitting on and burying so much fear and distress from the past 18 months, the chronic, low-grade trauma that was worrying if COVID was going to kill my father, my best friend and closest confidante and the one person on earth who I feel truly Gets Me on a spiritual level, and all of that came out. Fully processed and released every ounce of grief. What replaced it was the absolute, unshakable faith that no matter what happens — including my greatest fear, which is inevitable, no matter how far off it may be — he will always be with me, and a part of me, in the music we both love, and I will never, ever lose that.