#anyways thats enough deep thoughts for tonight

[maestro-of-miscellany]

I hate capitalism, like it's one thing for swifties as a fandom to be clowning a rep tv announcement but why are companies getting involved? like auntie anne's I don't think you ARE ready for it actually

[mizuno-marmalade]

sigh. ethel cain brainrot lately.. cainrot ig.. listened to two children in a motel for the first time last night and. hu o e g h. stop making me think about my childhood challenge !!!!1 im gonna stpo talking before i say something stupid bcus i am extra prone to doing that once my meds wear off lmao.

[lucky-bucky-boy]

Blooming Showers

Pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: A split-second decision leads to a night full of changes

Word Count: 3610

Warnings: Angst with some fluff at the end, little use of Y/N, assigned nickname towards the end, distrust, anger, wound/mention of blood, anxiety, racing thoughts, friends-to-lovers

A/N: This is definitely my longest piece I’ve written in a really long time. I started watching TASM with my cousin and friends and immediately fell in love with Andrew Garfield all over again so I NEEDED to write something. This isn’t smutty but I kind of want to do a part two thats smutty and angsty

I do not own these characters. Do NOT repost my writing and/or fics anywhere without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed and highly appreciated!

Rain softly padded against the window, causing the lights from outside to cast soft shadows, the lights from passing cars making those shadows dance. It was quiet, almost serene in New York - the sirens were few a far between tonight, and distant as well, the occasional coo of a bird trying to find shelter - there were no kids running down the fire escape trying to sneak out, no couples in petty arguments that shook through the thin walls.

Nights like this were few and far in-between, where for a few minutes you were able to fall in love with your city all over again, and you were able to remember every reason why you wanted to be here. 

The only thing that would've made the night better would have been seeing Peter, your lifelong best friend, and partner-in-chaos. Your phone lit up occasionally with messages from him, apologizing over and over for missing another scheduled movie night. 

It wasn't the end of the world, Aunt May needed help with something so you understood, but it still stung. This was the 4th one this year he'd miss. You understood when there was a foot of snow on the ground, and when midterms then finals week came, but it had felt like since graduation two weeks ago that Peter had been avoiding you. 

Trying not to dwell on the sinking feeling was hard, so many changes were happening and your brain was becoming more and more hyper-aware that more changes were bound to come. Graduation may overall be a good thing, opening up new opportunities and finally not having to worry about classes you'd never use a day in your adult life, but it also meant that you were about to start a new chapter of life. 

In an attempt to stop the racing thoughts, you decided Fuck Peter for missing your movie night and decided to watch a movie anyways. Pressing play on an old favorite, you left the comfort of your bed to grab some snacks from the kitchen. 

Ten minutes. That's all you were gone, but in those ten minutes, the city's beloved vigilante slid your window open, practically tumbling off of the fire escape and onto the floor. He did his best to avoid your bed, not wanting to soak it in the rain or the blood that was on him. 

There was a cut through his suit, not deep but enough to nick the skin and have scarlet drops dripping down. He reached for a towel that had been carelessly discarded by you earlier in the night, haphazardly tying his cut up with his free hand and then pulling his mask off. 

Peter's breaths were rugged, head now leaned back against your bed as he tried to calm himself from the adrenaline rush of the near-death experience he just had. Sure, he only had a cut and a few bruises to show for it, but he knew deep down without his enhanced sense he surely would have been dead. He hadn't even processed the split-second decision he made to go to your apartment instead of Aunt May's house. 

It wasn't until your shrill scream, the sound of the snacks hitting the floor that Peter's eyes flew open, looking at you as if he had just been caught committing a crime. His eyes were wide, realizing at that very moment the weight of his actions and inactions for the past several years. He didn't dare move, only a breathy sigh of your name leaving his lips. 

Your brain moved quickly once you realize that the intruder sitting on your floor was Peter… Your Peter, dressed in a red and blue skin-tight suit, holding a mask, with your towel wrapped around his arm. There had to be a reasonable explanation. 

"Peter?" You knew it was him, but your brain was still attempting to come up with some explanation as to why he was dressed as Spider-Man. 

You quickly grabbed the stuff you had dropped, putting it on the bed and kneeling next to him. "Peter, what the fuck is going on?"

He stared at you, blinking a few times and not sure what to say. He knew there was a lot he needed to say, a lot that needed to be explained but he didn't know where to start. He's been lying to you about a part of himself for years now. 

"I'm sorry," he breathed out, breaths still shaky. 

You now realized the towel was covering a cut, the smell of iron mixed with city rain present in your nose. "Shit, what the fuck. Are you okay? What the hell is going on?" 

He nodded, "I've been worse," he mumbled. "I'll be fine, don't worry 'bout me." He leaned his head back against your bed again, taking a heavy breath in. 

That was the worst thing he could have said to you. Don't worry, at this point, you were worried and confused about everything. 

"Peter, you're my best friend, you know I love you, but if I do not get an answer as to what is going on in the next minute I am kicking your ass and calling May."

His eyes opened, looking over at you. The look of regret and hurt was evident, "I'm so sorry," he said, barely moving. His body ached but his heart was aching more as he watched the expressions on your face change the more you noticed and pieced things together, "I should've told you but I was scared you'd get hurt."

"Peter, what should you have told me?" Your voice was betraying you, breaking and quivering as you attempted to be firm. 

"I- I'm Spider-Man, I've always been. That's- Something happened tonight and I had to go help-"

"So you've been lying to me for 5 years now?"

He went silent and all he could muster was a small nod. 

"You've been hiding this from me for 5 years? Peter - I - we tell each other everything. If you've been lying about this, then what else are you fucking lying about?"

The hurt in your voice was evident. It was more like betrayal, and distrust, and it wrenched his heart and gut. The silence lingered as you started piecing more and more together. 

Five years. For five whole years, through your senior year of high school and the entirety of your college career, you spent attached at the hip to Peter Benjamin Parker - and he had been lying to you about a pivotal part of his life. 

In hindsight, finding out Peter had been Spider-Man all this time made a lot of things make sense. Five years’ worth of last-minute cancellations, questionable excuses, black eyes, and bruises. 

There was your senior prom. Aunt May was so excited that Peter and you were going together, she had always joked and wished the two of you would end up as more than friends. "Just memories for your wedding one day", she would say. 

Everything leading up to prom was great. Peter went dress shopping with you, he got a tie to match the color of your dress, Aunt May made sure the two of you had a matching boutonniere and corsage, he even took you to and from your appointments the day of prom.

However, an hour into prom itself he had to leave hurriedly, frantically coming up with an excuse of not feeling good when moments prior you had just finished taking pictures and laughing at the cheesy poses. 

That one stung, but you never admitted it, at least not to him. Peter had insisted you stay behind, spend time with other friends and he'd see you the next day. You're not even sure if he knows you left 20 minutes after he did, heartbreaking and feeling stupid for hoping Aunt May could be right. 

The summer between your senior year of high school and your freshman year of college was filled with last-minute cancellations. 

Since you were kids, specifically since second grade every Friday night was movie night and a sleepover. Even as you grew into teenagers Aunt May and your parents worked out an arrangement they could both be comfortable with to let you two continue your little tradition. But that summer every single one was canceled or Peter would leave early. 

For weeks you were convinced Peter no longer wanted to be friends with you, that somehow, some way you upset him and he hated you. Until a week before college started and he called you out of the blue for coffee and school shopping. 

Suddenly, things seemed normal again. Aunt May's house was close enough that Peter would go home for the weekend, and you would usually just follow along for Friday and then head back to your dorm Saturday. You'd meet up to study a few times a week or go run errands together, you were even back to gaming together once a week. 

So, you figured that Peter's sudden change in behavior could have been from his break up with Gwen. You knew he didn't take it easy when she ended things after finding out she was accepted into Oxford. You couldn't blame her really, but you weren't happy to see Peter's heart breaking. He talked about it some, but his eyes would always tell you more than he actually would. 

Of course, Peter would bail occasionally throughout college, but a lot of it made sense. He forgot about a project due or was just plain tired from working part-time and doing school. 

The part that never made sense though were the bruises and scratches. Peter always had an excuse; got hurt in the lab, fell skateboarding, hurt himself helping Aunt May. But at the end of the day, that's all they were; Excuses. 

Peter reached out to you, the touch of his cold hand bringing you back from your racing thoughts. "I…I know I shouldn't have hid it, (Y/N), I'm sorry I did. There was so much going on, so many threats and I- I just didn't want you to get hurt. I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if you got hurt."

Tears began to prick your eyes, instantly jumping away from his touch, the feeling of dread and distrust sinking deeper into you with the singular move.  "And what if you got hurt? How do you expect me to live with myself if you died?" Your voice was still shaky, fear now starting to fill in the gaps between each emotion. 

Your eyes wandered to the towel he had tied around himself, blood beginning to seep through. "Peter," you reached for his arm but he grabbed your hand, stopping you and making you look him in the eyes. 

"I'm okay, I promise. It'll heal quickly, just needed to stop the blood… I'll buy you a new towel." His voice was soft, his gaze never leaving yours. 

"I'm not worried about the stupid towel, Peter." You sighed, "I- How could you have hidden this from me for so long?" You asked again, this time much more upset than angry. 

Peter let out a shaky breath, his body finally starting to come down from the adrenaline and the full weight of his actions set in. "(Y/N), I mean it when I say I wanted to tell you," his voice was sincere, still holding onto your hand that had reached for his cut, "But I was more worried about your safety and making sure you wouldn't prioritize worrying about me over the rest of your life. The only person alive that knows is Harry. I never told anyone else, Aunt May doesn't even know."

It still hurt that Peter never told you, but it was starting to make sense, "How does Aunt May not know?" 

Peter shrugged, offering you a soft chuckle, "You know she only sees and hears what she wants to. I never told her, but I'm also shocked she hasn't figured it out."

Peter gave you a look that made you know he was truly sorry, lower lip pouted out some, eyes big and wide, almost looking like a kicked puppy. "I know I have a lot to explain to you, and I know I need to rebuild your trust in me, but I need you to understand that I am really sorry for hiding it for this long. I've wanted to tell you since it all started, but I was told that it could put everyone around me in danger if they knew so I didn't want anyone to find out."

As much as you hated it, you did understand it. Giving him a soft nod, you let go of his hand instead of moving to rake your hand through his hair to get it out of his face. "I understand, but I don't like it."

"You don't like anything that doesn't go your way," he teased with a soft laugh, quickly earning a glare from you that made him laugh more. "I'll also explain everything once I'm not still soaked and healing." He said, motioning to his arm. 

You nodded, "Did you wanna go take a shower? I can make some food or order takeout."

Peter thought for a moment then nodded. He unwrapped his arm, looking at the little scratch that was left behind from the wound he had not even 20 minutes prior. "Yeah, yeah let me go shower… do yo-"

"I'll put your clothes and a clean towel by the sink for you once you're in the shower. I'll also take your suit and the towel you have and throw it in the wash, okay? You just go get cleaned up while I find us some food."

Peter nodded, giving you a quick hug and kiss on the forehead before disappearing from your room. It took you a moment, immediately sitting down on the bed, attempting to process everything. 

Your best friend of 15 years is Spider-Man. Your favorite person is your favorite superhero. Your best friend has lied to you to be able to go save people. Your best friend could have died, and has probably almost died countless times.

To say it was a lot to take in was an understatement.

You could hear the shower start running in the room next to yours, the sound thankfully pulling you from your spiraling thoughts and panic. As you moved through the apartment, throwing a frozen pizza in the oven and collecting some spare clothes Peter had left behind at your place before, the emotions started to make sense. 

Yes, it did hurt that Peter had hidden this, but his reasoning made sense. The hurt that you couldn't shake was how many times you could have lost him. He could have been dead on top of a skyscraper, no one able to discover his body with how high up he is, and you would've been none the wiser. Or if he died on the streets and eventually was unmasked you'd be left to mourn with the rest of the world instead of being able to process the loss of your other half in private. You'd be learning and losing so much so quickly. You'd be lost in a pool of emotions so chaotic it would make this moment seem calm. 

Peter was back in your room about 20 minutes later, the pizza fresh out of the oven and sitting on the bed with you. You were looking at the TV, not really watching the forgotten movie you put on. As much as you tried to not let your thoughts continue to run wild, your brain didn't want to listen. 

He moved the pizza to the closest surface and sat on your bed, immediately pulling you in for a hug when he saw the lost look on your face. Your mind felt like it was a broken record, spinning fast but on repeat. 

"What's going through your head?"

There was no reason to reiterate the same thing you had told him earlier. You pulled off of him, sighing deeply before giving him a small smile, "A lot, but I'll be okay."

He nodded, "So… movie night? I definitely owe you one."

You nodded, looking up at the screen momentarily, your gaze being pulled to your phone as a new news alert popped up about Spider-Man. You didn't bother checking it, but you're brain did finally click the two puzzle pieces together fully that Peter is Spiderman. 

You looked over at him with narrowed eyes and a slight pout, "You're fucking Spider-Man," your tone was accusatory which caught him off guard, a slow nod all he was able to offer before you continued, "You have let me tell you for years that I'm in love with Spider-Man. That I would marry this person I thought I'd never meet. That's so embarrassing!" You whined at the end. 

Peter chuckled, a blush on his features and his hand going to mess with the back of his head. "Yeah… you finally realize that means you've been saying you're in love with me for like… 4ish years now?" He teased. 

It was a joke. It was just banter which was typical for Peter. He was always teasing, playful, and borderline flirty with you. But that statement rang a little too true. You froze, movements and breath seemingly paused, and Peter quickly noticed that your heart rate quickened. 

It wasn't the first time that happened around him. He's noticed countless times before how your skin would heat up and your heart rate would increase when he complimented you. He even noticed when he would do something, only sometimes accidentally, that would turn you on. Peter, not wanting to ruin your friendship or make you uncomfortable, never acted on it though. 

"You okay, daisy?" It was a nickname he didn't use often, but one that he's called you forever. It held a special place for him, a reminder of some of his first memories of you - flower hair pins and daisy doodles all over your school papers. It was also a term that usually had you flustered and stumbling. 

"You finally realize I've been in love with you longer than that?" 

Now it was Peter's turn to freeze, taking a moment to make sure he heard you right. He watched as you squirmed some, re-situating yourself and pulling at your clothes, heart rate quickening and eyes avoiding his. 

It made sense really, but he couldn't believe it. Peter has had a crush on you since your 5th-grade school dance where you wore a dress your parents let you pick out, so you were beaming with pride and excitement. He remembers you spending the night at Aunt May's after, staying up all night eating snacks and playing video games. 

Every day since he's made himself believe there was no way you'd like him back. Peter believed you were far out of his league, and even if that wasn't true he was too scared of losing you to take the risk of pursuing something more. 

"How long?" Maybe that wasn't the right response but he wanted to know, felt like he needed to know. 

"Longer than I can remember," you responded, breath shaky, "I can't lose you, Peter… I - Spider-Man or not, I can't lose you. And you coming in tonight, wounded and dropping a massive secret like that on me - Peter, you really scared me. I love you and losing you would kill me."

"You're not gonna lose me," his voice was soft.

"Don't make any promises you can't keep," you could feel the tears starting to form. 

Peter moved to you, his large hands coming to cup your face and make you look at him. "I'm not making a promise I can't keep. You're not gonna lose me. Not now, not because of being Spider-Man, not ever."

He waited for you to blind away your tears, using his hands to squish your cheeks in an attempt to cheer you up a little. Once he got a soft laugh out of you, he broke out into a smile. "I love you," he said firmly, "I'm in love with you. I have been since we were kids." He confessed to you. "So I mean it, I'm not going anywhere."

Peter watched your eyes get wide as you processed what he said, feeling your skin heat up under his hands, "Can I kiss you?" His voice was soft and airy. 

A slight nod was all he needed before he pressed his lips to yours. It was intense and soft and sweet, everything and anything all at once. Butterflies erupted from low in your belly and vibrated your chest. His chapped lips moved in sync against your bite-swollen lips, sending waves of electricity and emotions down your spine and through every nerve. 

He pulled away, leaning his forehead against yours as the both of you caught your breaths. His hands fell from your face, searching for your own hands. "I know I have a lot to explain, I have a lot of work to do to make you feel secure and know I'll be here, but I'll do whatever it takes, daisy, I promise." 

She huffed out a small laugh, pulling away and nodding, "Thank you, Petey," you pressed another quick kiss to his lips before pulling away fully, giggling at the almost shocked look he had on his face, "Looks like we both have a lot to get used to." Your gaze softened some, "No more secrets?"

Peter laughed as well, grabbing your hands and bringing them to his lips, presently multiple kisses to them. "No more secrets

[iwanty0uu]

Heyyy how yall doin! Me? im just chillin thinkin about how onyankopon loves carribean girls

(im literally saying this because im jamaican but anyway)

N/N MEANS NICK NAME BTW!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You whined your hips as your favorite song came on, touching your waist and breasts all while making eye contact with the tall darkskin boy through the crowd. Your best friend Mikasa always hosted the best parties, and always had the best playlists. Fever by Vybez Cartel rung through the speakers as you straightened yourself up and walked towards the figure across from you. You felt his dark lustful eyes burning through you and it turned you on but continued to ignore the the wetness and the butterflies in between your thighs.

You met the tall boy with a simple smile, well aware of how intimidating he looked while towering over you, but still managed to hold eye contact which caught his attention. He knew he looked intimidating, but it was always a nice surprise when a bold girl made the first move.He was practically eye fucking you. Your tight black dress held together by crisscross strings emphasized the curve in your torso ,while the dress flattered the mounds on your chest and made your ass nearly pour out of the bottom of your outfit. The red tattoo on your side barley showing but just enough to show the vine and hibiscus flowers which wrapped around to your lower back. Leaning over you to get a better view of your tattoo, he focused on your back dimples and couldnt help but smile to himself.

“Where u from pretty girl?” he questioned as he placed his drink down, leaning up against the wall behind him. Although the music blared, his deep voice felt like it penetrated every sound in the house, making his words clear, sharp, and only for your ears. You smiled as you flipped your hair over your shoulder revealing a gold chain in the shape of your homeland. “Born and raised” you replied as he smiled. “Ouu you Caribbean girls are dangerous, i hear yall cheat a lot, Im Ony by the way.” His smile was perfect, the pool in your underwear felt like it soaked through your short black dress, shiittt if he was thirsty you had a perfect beverage for him but i digress. “I’m y/n and you can come find out yourself, i meann i wont cheat unless you give me a reason too” ..your confidence could easily make a man’s dick wet,and if ony didnt have on them ksubi jeans the pre cum in his boxers would be visible.

“n/n you is a trip, can i call you n/n? imma call you n/n and if i hear anybody else calling you that imma kill them” he said as he faked a deadpan face. He was funny, he actually made you laugh, he was the first dude you met who wasnt the actual joke in your life. “boy bye everyone calls me that, you finna have a long ass hitlist then hun” you said as you rested your hand on your waist. He looked you up and down again and laughed “stop eye fucking me” you said cockily. Now to be fair, you were doing it first, thats why he stared back at you while you were dancing, and you did want to get to know him more. So, you grabbed his hand, as walked backwards slowly through the crowd. You knew you looked good and fucked good so your confidence was on one hundred tonight

“Hey, lets go back to my place and get to know eachother more..I mean you look all lonely standing here in the corner by yourself sooo we can def be friends” you couldnt resist his ass, and its obvious that he was feelin you too, but you wanted to get to know him more for real, i mean its not like fuckin him till your jaw locked didnt cross your mind once or twice but your intentions werent JUST to use him for his body, sexual thoughts are part of human nature and you just so happened to have some about the fine black man in the room! honest! He did look like he could be some good entertainment for however long he planned on staying in your life, there’s nothing wrong with a boy toy or two.. “Ony baby do you got a girl? i dont wanna be playin in nobody face looking dumb now..” You aren’t insecure, but everybody and they momma cheats in new york.. so theres nothing wrong with asking. “absolutely not..i gotta stay loyal to my girl” he said as he stopped you and gave you a twirl as he held your hand. hm, bold..

Turning back around while he opened the front door for you, it was already set in Onyankopon’s mind that you two would be more than friends..more than bestfriends at that, and he would know all about your favorite things, and your favorite parts. And if you were sure about one thing in your life, it would be that he would be yours by the end of the night, and he knew which set of girls did it the best. Walking off of the front lawn he opened the passenger door for you and quickly ran to the drivers side.

“manner-able too” you thought to yourself looking pleased. “So Ms.Y/n,” he said taking a sigh and turning the ac on low, causing the pine tree air freshener to dance around the rear-view mirror. “Who taught you how to whine like that? Im a visual learner by the way..” he said as he licked his lips and smiled, looking even finer in the low car light which illuminated his grills and nose piercing, rubbing his hands together showing his gold watch which sat pretty, almost as pretty as you on his wrist, accenting his thick veiny hands. Polished fingers looking so delicate and so clean, so glossy yet so rough. Everything about him was fine, and looked expensive.

His clean white shirt didnt have to be name brand to make his outfit hard.. damn was he good at existing, everything about him was so clean and polished. He is aesthetically pleasing to the eye which not a lot of people are. You couldnt stop looking at him in this lighting.. the low dim lights of the party didnt bring out all of his features as well as the car light did. Around his eyebrow rested a small but noticeable scar and a double slit eyebrow made his sharp features even more attractive.

“Lemme take a picture of your fine ass to make this view last longer” you said while grabbing your phone to snap a quick pic, quickly opening snap since their camera was the best. “i would send it to you but i dont have your number, here put it in” he laughed at your demand for his number. “You want me to drop you home? and you still aint answer my question mama” he added on determined.

“I’ll answer it when i get home, its still early so you can come up with me till youre ready to leave, but until then..” you said as you pulled him close and pecked him on his lips, “whats your favorite color?”

Boy are you in for the RIDE of your life..

guysss i hope you enjoyed this i feel like im getting back in the groove with this writing thing this was also long as fuck😭 so please give me any tips and tell me if you liked it! Big up my carribean people and give me some scenario ideas!😋~ ℒℯ𝓁ℯ<3

[gemstone-roses]

Hannibal

Trigger warning for self harm.

Request is under the read more.

A:N- this is a one off, i will not be doing any other requests on this subject so please do not ask. This is not meant to romanticise or anything, I am writing from past experiences and if any of the themes in this fic are triggering, don't read it. this was requested by @melavoris . Also Thankyou for being so respectful of my boundaries when requesting this fic! 💖

Request: can you do hannibal with a reader who self harms and he sees her healing scars and what he would do.

sorry for this taking so long- I had to take a break from uni and have felt like a complete fucking failure so... anyway, time to crawl out of my self pity hole, here you go! I tried to keep it vague whilst also including the details you asked for.

Warnings: self harm(no actual scenes of this but its the theme of the fic), scars, , hurt /comfort, 18+ only thanku! Female reader.

it's an avalanche of bad luck that ends with you and hannibal in this four room motel, with only one bed of course, stranded in the middle of the country, with a storm brewing for the night.

Jack had sent the two of you to interview someone connected to the case, you and hannibal worked well together, your skills and knowledge complimented each others work.

"I don't have anything to wear" you whined at hannibal, a smirk making it's way across his face.

"I have a spare shirt you can wear" hannibal says, because of course this man keeps spare shirts in his boot.

The shirt is long enough for you to keep a little dignity at least.

"I'll take the cou- you begin to say before he cuts you off.

"No, you will not, the bed is big enough for us both, the couch is big enough for neither of us" he says, matter of factly. But he's right, you could barely sit two people on the couch let alone lie and sleep on it.

"Um, alright" you say, slightly nervous.

"it's okay y/n" , he reassures you, seeming to sense your apprehension.

By the time hannibals out the shower, you've drifted off to sleep, he chuckles quietly at the sight, one leg flung over the quilt, arm shoved under the pillow.

It's not until hannibal gets in the other side and sees the flashes of red across your thigh.

Hannibal gently tugs the quilt until its free, he puts it back over you, tucks you in softly.

The next morning, your awoken by the shower running, hannibal in nothing but a towel.

"I saved you some hot water" he smiles.

There's a bottle of antiseptic on the shower shelf, thats lucky, you thought.

Your packing up your things to finally get out of this shitty room when hannibal gently catches your arm.

"Y/n, are you alright?" He asks, his voice is comforting, soothing, laced with concern.

"Im okay" you say.

"Hm". Hannibal smiles slightly, but he's not satisfied with your response.

Hannibal cares for you, deeply. You and him are close, he hates to think of you struggling on your own.

Hannibals driving, he asks if you'd like to come over for dinner, since there's no point going back to the office this late. You agree, delighted, his cooking is something else.

You make yourself comfortable while he dots about his house.

"Here, I have something for you" hannibal says, there's that deep comforting voice again that makes you feel safe.

You eye him confused, its a rubber band.

"Some of my patients, they've said it helps, in the short term" he says, his eyes never leave yours, but there's no pity or sadness or anything at all like that.

He's holding your hand in his, his grip tight, but not hard.

"It's okay y/n" he smiles, his hand moves to your cheek.

"Thankyou" you say quietly.

Hannibal doesn't let go of you as he speaks again.

"Whatever it is, y/n, I'm here".

"There are many things to try that can help, if you like, I can work through them with you". He adds.

"we don't have to talk, not tonight, but I want you to be safe and know that I'm not going anywhere, I'm here, I'll always be here". Hannibal soothes.

"okay" you nod, as he pulls you into a hug.

He holds you tight, but softly.

"Okay" he agrees.

[betterthanu333]

⭐️ diary June/27/24

Day 4:

Officially ended my fast of 93 hours because I ate 1 scrambled egg (no butter or oil) with seaweed and had petite baby carrots with tzatziki dip. Kinda mad at myself but my mom was on my head 24/7 today but I gained her trust tonight bc I had proof that I ate so I don’t think she’s gonna ask my about what I eat anymore. She’s been telling me that I’m gonna die if I keep starving myself (I tell her that I’m not but i am kinda 😊) and that I look deathly and my eyes and face show how I’m so thin and that why do I want to be skinner than I am, that I already am as skinny as a twig. WHICH I’m not guys istg I’m 174cm and I’m about I think 63kg or 62kg. I had kinda thick thighs (no thigh gap 💔🙏🏽) and I do have a kinda flat stomach with the most beefiest and loose fattiest upper arms. I’m tryna have that vs or at least Pilates build body.

Anyways I had a cup of green tea so flush this shit outta my body and then I’m gonna pop a melatonin to get enough sleep to wake up tmrw at sunrise to go walk/jog. Oh and today I went for only 1 walk💔 but it was like an incline and then so many fucking steep stairs I almost fainted bro wait actually that might be my fucking asthma but fuck it. Omg this hot boy in like college I think he had a beard was walking with his dad. My brother and I passed then with the incline up( the walking and stairs lead to the beach but we were leaving) and his father stopped to talk to a security man while his hot ass son was waiting AND I FEEL LIKE THAT MF SAW ME FROM AFAR & WAS LIKE HOLD ON LEMME WAIT.

So I passed him and his father was still talking with the security about how they’ve been living here for 15 years, keep in mind this place is on the hills and has an ocean view and the houses are fucking amaze balls ( rich rich bby ) anyways I passed by and I cursed at life bc we had to tackle the 1000 STAIRS, bro when I tell u I was fucking heaving, it was so embarrassing I hand to grip onto the handles and take a minute while they fricking passed me. Keep in mind my younger brother did not give 2 shits about me and I kept telling him to wait up.

Sadly I do not have the endurance nor stamina I thought I had with inclines and stairs which I need to BUILD STAMINA FOR BC THATS THE SHIT THAT TONES U AND MAKES U LOSE WEIGHT BUT I DONT KNOW HOW TO BE READY FIR THAT WHEN I EAT ZERO shit so for the love of god if u annies have any tips on how to control ur fucking breathing or at least have energy before a workout, Which I thought I had since I ate carrots and drank half of a WTR MLN WTR drink that has electrolytes and I walked out the door thinking I was swell IH FCK I JUST REMEBERED I HAD A MATCHA WITH VANILLA SYRUP TODAY BC I WENT TO A CAFE WITH MY MOM AND SISTER but I didn’t drink it all ohhhhh myyy gooodddddd guys I fucking hate myself today I ruined my diet and for what. I’m not gonna binge though bc I built the self control for that and I need to pushed off the deep end more than this in order for me to binge.

I burned 1,745 cals today. I need to get back on my 2,000+ grind like day 2 but I walked/cardio 2 times that day which I plan on doing tmrw. I did do a blogilates and workout (the one where she wears a turquoise set) but I only burned 83 cals which isn’t much but ugh anyways.

This was an especially long diary check in so pls tell me if I need to shut the fuck a bit more and summarize my day better… also emojis are fucking cringe but I use them so u guys understand my tone 👅

Goodnight annies

[bookaddict05]

Mystery man - pt 2

"I... cant... breath..." I say coming to a holt in the middle of the gym after running 20 laps.

Collapsing to the floor Barnes chuckles to himself. "It wasn't that hard" he says continuing to chuckle.

"Yeah thats easy enough for you to say you have the super soldier serum running through your veins" I retorted back.

"..."

Silence hums through the air between the both of us.

"Well we are done for the day, you can go and do whatever u have planned to do" he walks away from me leaving me sitting in the middle of this gigantic room all alone. Its actually quite peaceful.

~2 hours later~

As im getting out of the shower i hear something get slid under my door. I walk over to see an envelope with my name on. The letter was sealed shut with a wax stamp, so fancy. I throw on a jumper and joggers and run through the bathroon knocking on tessa's ajoining door.

"COME IN" I hear them shout. Walking in tessa is holding the same letter as i am. Shrugging our shoulders we both open the letters simultaneously, like we are sharing the same brain cell.

"Omg tony stark has invited us to a party tonight!" I exclaim in excitment.

"Thats so fricken cool" tessa shouts.

"I have nothing to wear" i pace back through to my room with tessa right on my heals. "I didnt think to pack any formal clothing, i never thought in my wildest dreams id be invited to one of these"

"Hey dont panic we have time it says it doesnt start till 8 anyways, its 4 now we can quickly pop out and find something and it doesnt matter if we are late to the party we will arrive fashionably late" says tessa.

"Omg tessa you are a star i dont know what i would have done without u, probably have a melt down then decide not to go and just read for the night instead" i say while chuckling.

"Yeah yeah im amazing i know, now lets get going"

~1 hour later~

We arrive back with our outfits for the night

I picked up a beautiful floor length red dress that flows so effortlessly while i walked. With a heart-shaped neckline my neck looked bare so i also picked up a necklace my mother had given to me before she died, a small golden love heart which completed the outfit in every way.

Tessa on the other hand picked out a black suit to match their goth lifestyle.

We took our time doing our make up and making ourselfs look stunning as ever.

9pm rolled around and we are already an hour late. A rush of anxiety coursed through me as we walked towards the door of the party. Taking deep breaths in to calm down. Music playing so loudly. We open the doors and the music perfectly timed it self with us playing the chorus of 'jealous' by nick jonas.

It was like something just out of a movie, just so dramatic. Walking through the doors I could feel eyes burning on us I turned to look at Tessa beside me to see that they had disappeared and saw them talking to 2 other agents. I continue to walk through the party taking in all the planning that must have went into this in such short time.

I walk over to the bar where I see Natasha serving Bruce. And sit down. "You look stunning y/n" Natasha says automatically.

"Thanks Nat, you look stunning as well" I stay with them for a while, Nat handing me a drink over, a vodka and coke. While chatting I felt as if there was a set of eyes on me from behind.

I turn around to see the metal man himself standing with Steve and Sam in a conversation, he's standing facing me eyes piercing straight into mine, I smile at him and he smiles back. Strange interaction with the metal man. I turn back around feeling my heart racing, why is he having this affect on me? no one has ever made me feel like this, not since the accident that ended my mothers life.

I got lost in a trance of thinking of my past but I was brought out of it after hearing a deep toned voice come and approach me, I turn to see a dark haired man. Muscles bulging through his black dress shirt, arm sleeves rolled up exposing his tanned muscular arms. He looks at me with deep chocolate brown eyes.

"Hey" the dark haired man said with a smile

I smile back and say hey back

He introduced himself as Eddie

He is perfect in everyway, too perfect.

"Your Y/N right ?" he asked

"Yeah, how did you know that?"

"I'm a new recruit and I've been placed into your group for practice missions"

"Wait? Edmundo?"

"Yeah"

"great to meet you, I've heard brilliant things from the S.H.I.E.L.D Academy, I hope you can live up to these expectations. If you can excuse me I need to head to the toilet and find my friend, I hope you have a great rest of your night" I say while smiling.

I excuse myself from the bar and head towards the toilets. I look at myself in the mirror, not looking physically flustered but I could feel it internally. I shove the feelings back down to where they belong and pull myself together.

I plastered a big smile across my face and went back out amongst the crowd. I walk across the room and grab Tessa. "WE ARE GOING TO DANCE" I shout over the music. I drag them to the dance floor and we cause chaos. Jumping and singing to the top of our lungs like no one was watching.

That's when we heard the initial sound, glass smashing and everything fell silent. The windows to the function room that overlooked the whole of New York fell into the room an object landing in the middle of the room. A bomb.

"RUN OR GET DOWN" I scream, everyone ran to cover but when the bomb exploded I wasn't far enough, the force from the explosion sent me flying into the wall. My head colliding with the wall first causing me to black out.

[theuniversitychallengereview]

Ep 5 - Cranfield vs Royal Holloway

Right, gang - I got distracted watching skits about contact tracing on Twitter so I now only have thirteen minutes to write this intro rather than the thirty I had initially planned for (its remarkably easy to fall down a ‘skits about contact tracing’ rabbit hole, and it's a surprisingly deep rabbit hole), but we’re going to give this a go anyway...

Something football fans will idly do if there aren’t any matches on, or if the only match thats on is something like Burnley vs Watford (mid-October, not mid-March in the depths of a relegation battle), is idly speculate about what the ideal lineup of Premier League teams would be. Unlike American sports in which there is no promotion and relegation, the football pyramid is a constantly shifting chimaera, meaning that you can never have all of the most “noble and historic” teams in the top division at the same time.

Indeed, they did try and engineer a version of this for teams across the European continent in the form of the European Super League, but this was shouted down for being one of the most soulless and corporate ideas ever to come out of soulless and corporate modern sport. But it's something fun to think about, anyway.

I actually have a list of 22 teams for my dream Premier League on my phone, dated 5th January 2019 (just so you know I’m walking the walk as well as talking the talk here). I’d share, but the controversy would likely be too much for me (and you) to handle. The thought processes behind this decision making are very abstract and unknowable, but essentially, in most people’s cases, it probably boils down to two things: one - who used to be really good, ages ago?; and two - who was sort of okay when you were between the ages of five and thirteen. This is why my particular list contains Nottingham Forest and Portsmouth, despite neither of them having been in the top division (until Forest’s ascent this year) for quite a while.

You may also have noticed that my league has 22 participants, while the actual league only has 20. This is because of a third aspect of the decision making process - the idea of the golden age. Despite the fact that I was never alive when the Premier League had 22 teams, it feels to me like football must have been better, and more pure when it did.

Nothing can be as good now as it used to be.

This is a truism in more than just football. When we look at the past, we look at it with rose-tinted glasses.

I imagine you’re wondering what the heck this all has to do with University Challenge, and you’d have good reason to. Your wondering will likely not be abated by my explanation either, because the observation it is based on is far from universal.

When choosing my ideal 28 team lineup for University Challenge, I’d have all of the major players - your Yorks, and your Edinburghs, your Durhams and Warwicks and Imperials and St Andrewses. A sprinkling of the most successful Oxford and Cambridge Colleges, Trinity, Magdalene, Corpus Christi… The Open University. I’d also have one of tonight’s teams, despite them only having appeared four times in the Paxman Era.

However, in one of those four appearances, Cranfield made the final, so in the hours I have spent on the University Challenge Wikipedia page over the years, scrolling through the list of past finals, they must have seeped into my head as an absolutely classic UC team. They’ve not been on the show since they were beaten in the Grand Final by Birkbeck in 2003, but I’ve absorbed that name over the course of countless repeat visits to that one webpage, to the extent that I had written all of that stuff about the Premier League without even checking their overall record. Still, they make my roster regardless.

Unfortunately, Royal Holloway, with their pair of second round appearances, do not. But that’s quite enough nostalgia for one intro, lets get on with the show (this has taken me twenty one minutes, so I’m going to be watching on a delay, but that ain’t half bad for seven hundred words I don’t think)

The first starter goes to Brown of Royal Holloway, winning the race to Renee Zellwegger. They pass on a very guessable bonus- as in they should have at least given a guess, not necessarily that they would have got it right - which is not the most promising of signs, but they get the third at least. Brown then takes another starter, and they took two bonuses on the Copley medal.

Suri gets Cranfield off the mark with pop art, and they get two bonuses on the letter X, before Keenan takes the first picture round to bring them within five points. Two bonuses on proposed new states reversed the deficit.

Harvey gets a starter for Holloway, and I was about to chastise them for saying snapping turtle instead of snapper turtle on a bonus, and chastise Paxman for allowing the answer, but a quick Google has revealed that it was I who was in the wrong. How embarrassing. At least I didn’t publish that without checking, though.

Cranfield’s double act of Keenan and Suri take another ten points each to reclaim the lead for the Bedfordshire quartet, but Harvey swiftly pegs them back with a starter of his own, and Holloway are five clear going into the music round.

No one gets the starter, despite some accidental conferring from Holloway after Cranfield skipper Stephenson had buzzed in with a wrong answer. Abramovich hears two-toed on the next starter and buzzes in with sloth, as any good quizzer should. What other animal is defined by its having two toes?

On a bonus about The Haunting of Hill House, Cranfield’s Chivers comes so close to the correct answer that it's such a shame to hear him say End instead of Hill, but them's the breaks. Holloway follow this up by giving sea urchin instead of sea cucumber, but that only has two words in total so it's less sad.

The second picture starter goes to Brown, who recognised a still from the Danish show Borgen. They clean up on the bonuses, and Paxman takes his chance to patronise them for knowing stuff about TV shows. I know it's his last season and all, but it should be pointed out that he himself is literally on a TV show at the exact moment he makes this comment.

On the next starter, which also goes to Brown, you can sense him gearing up to correct her pronunciation of Karamazov before she’s even finished giving her answer. She won’t care though, because Holloway are more than fifty points clear with only a few minutes remaining.

A late rally from Cranfield brings them above one hundred points, but Holloway aren’t threatened, and win by a clear margin at the gong.

Final Score: Cranfield 110 - 155 Royal Holloway

So, Cranfield not doing much justice to my selection of them to the Hall of Fame lineup there, but congratulations to Royal Holloway, who advance to the second round for the third time in three appearances. Here’s hoping they can go one better this time.

See you next time for Glasgow vs Queen’s Belfast, and as always, thanks for reading. Subscribe if you never want to miss a post, it really would mean a lot to me.

[kc-cutie-xoxo]

LONG PHILOSOPHICAL RANT/ HIGH THOUGHT TRAIN INCOMING!!!!

this is a message i sent to one of my platonic soulmates, inspired by my soul’s perfect (very romantic) match, myah.

“when i say i am currently high as nuts on an edible but my brain is doing the philosophical, spiritual, people are energy thought process thing rn, i was like i need to text kem my high thoughts because you understand my soul like almost no other. (shoutout myah for being the only one who gets my soul more).

i may blow your phone up, i apologize in advance, but let me say, i am so grateful that our souls crossed paths. i have never encountered someone who i felt so mirrored by on a soul deep level. we understand and process things differently because of our life experiences, but our souls reflect the same brightness. your soul LONGS to reach out and touch other souls. you have what I have, the thing I call “the gift of good thoughts”. our brains may be chaotic, but our first thought is almost always something appreciative or kind, joyful, thoughtful, almost ALWAYSSSS something good. our souls long to touch other souls, that is why we love to dance and we love music, and we love to be there for our friends, and we love to learn, to grow, to speak to people, and to have people listen. it is not a desire to be the center of attention, or to overshadow anyone elses light, it’s the opposite. we love to experience other souls, and we love to make them burn brighter. so i wanted to say thank you, for always making my soul feel like it was encouraged to grow and to shine. thank you for letting me stoke your souls flame. thank you for also sharing your thoughts with my mind because i learn so much and am so encouraged and complemented by the way your mind works. anyway, thats the intro LOL.

i have been on facetime w myah and have been rambling about my high thoughts, including the above mentioned soul brightness theme. I have thoroughly enjoyed the journey my mind has taken tonight, and so I will try to make this as intelligible and ingestible as i can, but please do keep in mind im toasted, roasted, and my mind has coasted.

okay one- everything started as stardust. i watched a science show about it, i dont know all the details and specifics (too high to remember at least). if im not mistaken though, the first atoms were hydrogen, and hydrogen atoms found other atoms, created molecules, carbon+oxygen+hydrogen is the foundation of all life okay. so all of those tiny little building blocks of everything in our known universe have some kind of energy, technically measured in joules but whatever LMAO. okay it took us thousands of years to come far enough to get an idea of what an atom looked like, but we could measure that energy in how it interacted with different energy, or different building blocks. okay so if we think about the foundation of life as substance and its natural possession of energy, i go to my next point

2- aforementioned point———souls are energy. i dont think we have the capability to measure the energy of souls, but in the experience of identifying with someone’s soul, you can feel and understand the energy. i don’t think that our souls energy is solely based on its interactions with other souls, but I do think that plays a big part. i also think that a souls energy is somewhat tied to their material substance the same way that an atom is not the physical presence of energy, but it possesses its own experience of energy. while that idea does play into what exactly a soul’s substance is, i dont think that’s discoverable yet scientifically; however, i do think we are able to recognize and comprehend our souls experience of energy. when our souls are low energy i feel like the light is dimmer or the amount of energy lowers; but when the energy and that light is encouraged to grow??? the light gets brighter, the soul shines, and the soul develops and increases its energy. that increase of energy i think is when we experience that encouragement, that safety and trust, and we learn to enjoy the stoking of the energy, and we learn to encourage our growth ourselves as well. which leads me to my next point…..

three - souls interacting. I think that certain souls may be from the same stardust, or their energy may have learned to enjoy the encouragement of the self enough to where their soul longs to touch other souls. i think that this energy sometimes finds its equal, or its perfect complement, and this other soul naturally encourages the growth and brightness of that other soul (and vice versa). i think that you are one of those complements for me, and i do think you are my platonic soulmate. my soul loves yours and feels encouraged by yours, and my soul loves to encourage yours to shine as bright as can be. i also think that myah is my perfect romantic/soulmate complement because I feel like our energy is so drawn to each others (somehow on this massive rock), and my soul naturally wants to encourage hers to shine, and her soul just wants to let mine know that it’s beautiful to be bright, and that neither of our souls were intended to be dim, so we are just learning how to shine brighter just by being around each other.

okay im getting high sleepy so maybe will pick up at a different date, but long story short, i feel like because my soul has finally found what its been searching for, my mind and soul is free to search for knowledge, joy, and growth in a way that i cannot even fathom being random chance. i feel so free, i feel like i can finally spend time enjoying exploring more of the meaning of life and asking questions from my soul because my soul doesn’t feel lonely anymore. it found its complement. the yin to its yang if u will.

anyway, elated, faded, chemically aided casey ramble is concluding for the night, i adore you, i am grateful for you more than you could understand, and thank you for being someone i felt like i could ramble about these things to.”

Hoping someone else might find some clarity from my silly high thoughts.

I also want to acknowledge that I don’t think my mind would have ventured that far into the complexities of the universe and the soul if I didn’t feel like my soul was so seen and understood by myah. Thank you baby, I love you.

[therealpontius]

BBQ (pt4) ~ skate park pontius

Plot: chris needs alittle help…

Warnings: wound

You drive home in silence, the house was ten minutes away yet it felt ten hours. the way chris was so horrible to ehren was like he was trying to show off to you, his smile was so... sweet? You felt bad for not going out with him and steve-o tonight, youll message him when you get home to apologise... you cant believe you said that to johnny 'i thought it was you so i didnt say anything' "im Litterally so embarrassed holy shit."

You arrive at your drive through and walk in the door "im so tired" you said to yourself and dragged your feet upstairs, you didnt even bother to take of my makeup or clothes, slowly drifting off to the faint sound of cars passing the road and the rain just starting to hit your window

*Ping*

You jump out your skin as your phone vibrates on the dresser "who is it now" you say annoyingly, reaching for your phone

[you have 1 new message from "playgirl pontius"]

You giggle seeing his contact name but open your phone anyways

"Hey y/n im in a bit of a situation"

"Hey chris, are you okay?"

"I was skating in the skate park alone and ive fell and cut my knee bad"

You wouldve thought he was used to this shit...

"Shit! Are any of the boys coming down to get you?"

"No they are all drunk or too lazy, would you? You could just take me home"

'GOD LET ME SLEEP'

"Yes ofc just send me the address ill be a good 6 minutes"

Well great your too fucking tired, you drag yourself out of bed once again and get your car keys and head to the skate park hes in. You look around the dark street and see a black silhouette of a tall man with short buzzed hair, there he is. You slowly get out the car and head towards the black figure, it was so cold. "Chris?" The silhouette turns around and walks under the street lamp "hey y/n! Sorry to drag you out so late" he said looking more nervous than usual. You looked down at his leg to see a cut, quite deep but definitely not one hes never had before. "do you wanna just relax before we head?" He said pointing to a small bench "but your cut looks pretty bad?" As much as youve saw one like this you were still worried "i can deal with it" he said cockily and linked arms with yours walking over the the bench, you sat down but it felt so... intimate? You weren't scared of this thought.. you slowly moved closer to him and rested your head on his sholder for a while and let out a huge yawn "im sorry your so tired do you want to go the now?" You had a thought about it but were so comfy, he was so warm, just like a hot water bottle "im comfy but we can leave the now if your wanting to go look after your leg?" You said sleepily looking up at him "well okay maybe we should probably go and clean it" you both stood up and headed towards your car and got in.

He buckles his seat belt and looks over at you "thankyou y/n seriously i dont know what I would do without you" he smiled at you and looked forward out the window " yeah no problem i hope i didnt make you uncomfy by lying on your sholder im just tired and cold" he shook his head " no not at all" he patted your leg in reassurance. You put on misfits and both sang along in attempt to wake you up. Hes a good singer.

You drop him off at his house "do you want to come in? I know your tired but i might need a hand with my leg" you rolled your eyes and laughed "thats just an excuse for company" you got out the car and followed him to his door, singing misfits worked you felt more awake "i hope my house isnt too messy" you looked around and saw a few cans of beer in the living room and a few pairs of boxers lying at the bottom of the steps "ive been a bit buisy with jackass right now ive not had enough time to clean" he said anxiously "chris i dont care about your house im just worried about the cut, go sit ill get a wet cloth and plasters"

You returned to the living room five minutes later and he was sitting on the couch, you could tell he was tired "right lets get started" you kneel down at his legs and start cleaning the blood with a damp peice of toilet paper "augh" he winced and threw his head back but it didnt stop you from cleaning it, just wanting to go to bed "you doing great chris" you picked up the wet towel and prepared him "deep breaths" you touched the exposed wound with the wet towel to try stop any infection, your not a professional "fuck ouch" chris's head jerked forward and he looked in so much pain, maybe it was worse than you thought. You lightly placed a large plaster over the cut and heard him sigh in relief .

You looked up at him and smiled "well done you done great" he weakly laughed " what time is it" he rubbed his eyes and sat up, you stood up and checked your watch "its eleven, only eleven? Jesus" you slumped next to him "we must be getting old" he giggled and turned to you and you made a fake sad face " i need to drive home now" he made the fake sad face back "how long is that?" "Like 20 minutes" he sat up and looked deep in though "you can just stay here, have a shower in the morning if you need one and borrow my clothes?" You cant even argue against that, your too tired to drive " okay sure ill sleep on the couch" he nodded and left to go up to his room "goodnight!" You heard him shout down and you fell asleep immediately.

[kitty-thinks-stuff]

little story idea i had that im probably never gonna write bc im not smart enough for it blegh ❗TW❗suicide, abuse, lots of mental health talk

story idea where it starts with a girl going to the roof of a tall building. shes planning on killing herself. its not nighttime yet, but the sun is setting. she thinks its a beautiful time to go, a fitting end for all shes been through.

she has tears dried on her face, but her expression seems cold, and empty. she sits on the edge, legs dangling over the side.

"arent you cold wearing that?"

she looks to the side. a girl, not much older than herself, is sitting there. she wasnt there before, so she mustve come while she was staring at the ground below. how was she so quiet? was she really that deep into her thoughts?

thats when she notices the girls clothes are almost exactly the same as her own. its a school uniform, so its not surprising, though she swore shed never seen her roam the halls.

"arent you?"

the second girl smiles as she looks back at the sunset.

"It's beautiful tonight."

"Yeah, i suppose it is."

"I came here to kill myself," the second girl says with ease.

the first girl was shocked. not only was it a surprising sentence to say out loud, but also, what are the chances? two girls of the same age, wearing the same uniform, both here to put a premature end to their suffering.

"Why?"

"a lot of reasons i guess. What about you?"

"What about me?"

"why are you here to kill yourself?"

the first girl was almost surprised that she was figured out so quickly.

(im terrible at writing introductions and obviously this specific part is a bit rushed, but anyways)

i feel like every chapter they would talk about a different issue in girl #1's life. they talk about the good parts and the bad parts. they talk about the crush she has on a girl in her grade, and they talk about how her parents treat her.

they talk about the bruises on her leg, and the hidden ones on her cheek.

they talk all night.

eventually, girl #2 leaves, bidding her farewell, saying she has to get up soon.

i think girl #1 still kills herself in the end. she jumps off right as the morning sun is rising above the horizon.

we find out at the end that the second girl was not a girl at all, but the very being of life itself. we see it and death, standing at the top of the building, as life clenches their fists.

"You tried your very hardest," Death says sadly.

"Not hard enough."

[joannasteez]

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍. 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐄

pairing: frank castle x reader

warnings: blood & pain kinks, angst, nsfw

an: ask for angst, angst you shall receive. i may have gotten carried away with what you gave me haha … just a little… okay maybe a-lot. hope you like it!! | for @my-rosegold-soul | creds to gif maker! | btw im a little rusty so yeah…

feedback isn’t required, but very much appreciated!!!

It wasn't the lie so much as the lousiness of it. It wasn't the lousiness of it so much as what it actually did to you.

You hate these moments of clarity, the way they strip your blissed ignorance down to a raw, bare boned awareness. Force a daunting recognition that, till this moment, has been cleverly avoided. Moments where it hits you, blunt and blinding, that you care more than you thought you did. More than you probably ought to.

Knuckles deep into the scrubbing of pots, shiny and spotless, cleaned minutes ago, now just suffering in their inanimate silence at the way your indignation wears them down some. It's the sort of inward downward simmer that takes a little longer to reach the surface. It's coming though, how or with what words you aren't sure, but it's coming. It's a kind of wordlessness that suspends you, dangling you about and pressing a scowl into your features till the door clicks and the slippery thud of heavy wet boots beat against your apartment floor. That's when you fall back into it hard, forcefully, because his presence commands you so, every word once lost in the wake of irritation now riding up the hot trail of throat and tongue. It's there now, waiting patiently.

But if you turn, slip your right foot more right followed by the left to look at him, drink him in, you'll lose it again. Fall fast into the way that putrid smell of blood and the haunted black of his hard eyes garner such a disorienting sort of sympathy. Compassion. So you stay, wear down your pots a little longer and keep your eyes away. Because fuck him.

"Never took you for the lousy lying type". You're dry sounding, unamused, and if Frank can get past the pain burning him half alive a little more at a time, he can feel your disappointment unstick from the air to melt into him. "Y'know, marine corps and all that bullshit. One would think you'd be better at it". The pause you take, it's too simple and too heavy of a thing to compare to anything else, but if he had to, it's the abrupt record scratch. The coming together of a once broken realization. "Unless of course you are, then that's just low Castle". There's a laugh coming up that dies on impact. Dries up half way and becomes wry. "Real damn low".

The way you scratch metal into metal, it pushes his blooded teeth to a slow grind, nose fiery with the scent of pine-sol. You clean when you're pissed, but he'd rather these feelings over the slow, difficult, un-surety of the next one. And besides, if you're going to lie, lie with purpose right? None of that pathological bullshit. He'd had his reasons, and what you thought or felt about it didn't matter much, or thats how he wanted, needed it to seem anyways.

Pushing was more his forte now anyways than pulling, and he figured if he'd done it enough then maybe you'd close the raw feeling you gave him in his chest. Douse the warmth and leave him comfortably cold like he was before he met you.

"Curtis says hi by the way. Asked me how you were doing, which is odd considering you said you'd be over there to see him tonight". Every word is like chalk against a blackboard, a hard screeching pinch into his already bruised skin. A stinging sensation trailing up and down his arm as he peels his jacket away from him. Buckles of his vest unclipping before it thuds to the floor. The wet heaviness of the fall makes him look down on it, red staining polished hardwood browns.

Frank grunts in pain, black henley tossed over the bulletproof vest. He grunts in irritation at the way you keep poking and pressing at the marred heart of him. Grunts because he just wants you to give up on him, to stop. "You finished?", he asks.

You're just getting started though. Sarcasm on a high of its own.

"Kickin' ass and takin' names, the good ole punisher way. Livin' up to your little claim to fame as usual". 'Instead of being here with me', you leave unsaid.

But he's pissed at himself really, and pissed at you for being pissed at him. Pissed because you're this beautiful little stain and he can't undo you from his skin. Pissed at this nagging at the forefront of his skull, pulsing into him, 'you can't have her, not really', pulsing, pulsing, pulsing. Goading him to push. That's his forte now anyways. Pushing. "What'd you want from me sweetheart?, Huh?" Sticky wet boots do your floor some violence as he stalks over to you, a tower the way he's looking down on you. A cracked iron fortress kept together by thin tendrils of vine. He's more penetrable than he thinks. "Want me on my knees for you? Hands clapped together beggin' for forgiveness, 'cause it ain't happening".

Going to the bathroom seems more and more like a good option, the better option, so that's what he does. Dares your silence to break with the air of a lieutenants stare before he soldiers on away.

The swagger in his step is all pride, blood dripping from him still to mess up your pristine floors. Not so pristine anymore.

When you finally do say something, as if subconsciously waiting for the right cue like some renowned thespian, the words slip off quickly. Tasting like pain and power. Like blood on your tongue.

"Bet you were a hell of a liar for Maria, weren't you?"

He jerks hard, the recoil a little too much for him even, and when he turns, the room throws itself off balance, spins wildly a bit in your eyes in what you think is an attempt at juggling the weight of whatever seems to ripple from him.

"What'd you say to me?"

He's a mixed bag of a whole bunch of unmitigated shit. A dam cracking, on the verge of destruction. But so are you, hot and feeling lethal with every step you take. Dammit, so are you.

There's that wry smile of yours. Stretching wide. "Probably perfect at it back then, all tactical and precise. Probably had your tracks all covered, the perfect alibis, and there she was, just as doe eyed and clueless as ever. Believing all your bullshit. I’m sure it was all more believable back then".

"Watch yourself".

"Or what?"

He smells like Hell's Kitchen from where you stand, just a breath away, he smells like hell and you want to take a hand to him. Do him some violence, make him feel how deeply stitched he is to the insides of you.

He sees it though, feels the shudder overtaking exhalations against his fiery marred skin, and from where he stands, sees everything. The way you try but can't undo him. What it does to you.

You want the floor to open and swallow you whole in the wake of what’s been said. Have it drag you into its lemony polished embrace as you watch him retreat to the bathroom.

The earth stills for several seconds, lets you simmer slowly in your mess, and then you notice from the bullet proof vest, Ares' ichor stretching through the cracks of hardwood where it lay. He is everywhere, in your floors even, and like yourself, they too cannot save you.

You clean when you're upset, and the worlds a shitty place, so you clean often. Till frustration waves it's white flag, fizzling out till it wanders it's way over to bleach-y oblivion. The vest is soaked more than you'd thought, wondering just how eventful the night was for him as you heave it some into the sink. 'You clean too much y'know', he'd said once, as you went to war with the kitchen countertop. Watching with a lopsided grin, the one filled with amusement but trying its best to be hidden. 'Bottle says “kills 99.9% of germs for a reason”'.

He'd been on you in seconds, dumping the rag, clinging onto soft skin, trigger finger tucked firm into the line of your waist. Twitching with life like you were some precious semi-automatic.

Frank Castle was his most murderous under moonlight, his most dangerous. His most intimate.

His teeth had grazed, seducing the pulse of a neck vein so that you'd melt into him. Not without a quip of your own though. 'It must be doing its job then, 'cause you still here'.

He'd already been into other things, into other thoughts. Of how your legs made him warm and a good kind of achy. Unbelievably hard. It'd taken more time for the small joke to sink in than normal, your thighs having taken a squeeze when it did, feeling the scrappy shots of a chuckle move through you.

And here you were again, scrubbing blood from a white skull, or trying and failing anyways. Remorse first because you'd said shitty things, and then that disorienting sort of sympathy. Compassion.

He grunts a bit weakly in the short distance. A lightheaded agitation as he tries no doubt to suture himself.

You go to him, move before you have time to really think.

"Give it to me", the needle out of his shaky fingers and into yours.

99% of him is in pain, burning up molten and achy, nothing he can't handle though, but the little one percent is your balmy touch. A tenderness he secretly loves, craves for a little even, as you prick and pull. Sow him back together. He'd be lying though if he said he hadn't wanted to hurt you moments ago like you'd done him. Retaliate like a good American soldier. Split you down the middle from chest to belly with a venomous word or two of his own to see what you were really made of. Have your blood splatter, to mix with his.

It'd probably just leave him feeling more pissed and undone. Seeing you mauled inside out by him, fuck it was all so confusing. Wanting you as far away and as close as possible. Completely clean of him, messy with him all the same.

Your eyes get all round the way that they do, trailing over blood and bruised muscle, but it's a bit too virtuous to be pity.

"What is it?"

You're onto stitching his left arm. "Every time I see you, it's more cuts, more bruises". He's staring off into the porcelain of the sink, but feeling your stare cement into him. "You don't know how to just ... relax".

"You sound worried".

"If not me, who else?"

It's something in his stare that plucks away at you, the way fingers do the strings of a guitar when thrown into the heat of melodious passion. Your words, the furthest they'll get to a full admission, for now anyways, does the same for him. Pluck and pry, till the ichor runs fresh. To be worried over, a gift he won't take without a fight, a gift you beat into him slowly. Rub his veins with it, line it methodically beneath iron muscle and taut skin. He chuckles the tiniest bit, a bit of wry wonder in his eyes, because how dare you do him like this?, this way? How fucking dare you.

The stitches are done on both sides, and now it's just the two of you. "Frank I-"

"I shouldn't have said-"

"Don't mention it".

No. "It was low of me to mention her, m'sorry".

Apologies aren't some foreign concept to him, it's just that he's usually never wrong or remorseful. 'Usually', he thinks. Stout fingers taking your face firmly. Thumb stretching up and over, because he's got a knack for tenderness when he feels like it. "It was lousy of me, lying to you like that. Y'didn't deserve it, m'sorry".

You give a nod and a grin. "You are very right about that".

"C'mere".

He just wants the kiss to resolve whatever simple apologies don't, but kisses weren't made for simplicity's sake. The taste of liquid metal riding on your tongue, no it's not so simple, warm and short lasting smacks verge onto sharp bites and overtaking tongue till the hell in him is all you can savor. Feeling the fire brew quickly under your feet, adrenaline starting to rage. Blood, stained around his lips, it's supposed to taste the way it smells, acrid and the heat of it a bit burning, but it's liquor. Biting and inviting. You wince once, maybe twice, and then you want it forever.

Firmness becomes roughness, a hand in your hair and the other masking your jaw . A bite to his lips makes him grunt, pushing you against the sink to be stuck between it and him, but a soft knee running over the forming tent in his jeans makes him groan.

"Do something about it then".

He's back on you after such a compelling command, wet iron kisses and the digging in of trigger pulling fingers.

"Yes sir", you rasp. Honey filled and teasing. It gets him going though, hardens him up completely. Heats his blood until he's verging feral and single minded.

You're too busy kissing him, feeling a lot beside yourself, licking his lips, like the remnants of stained red are some addictive nectar. "Pants", he grunts, but you're unsure of which pair he means, so you shimmy a little less than gracefully out of yours before you're hoisted onto the edge of the sink. He's breathing harder, deeper, from lightheadedness at the loss of blood, or from an attempt to steady some primal urge, again you're unsure, but it's warm everywhere he places his lips. Everywhere he sucks and tethers his teeth. Fingers making a thick mold into your waist, to break you or hold you together, who knows, but it's good. So damn good.

"Frank". Breathless and needy.

"Yeah I know. I know, just-"

He doesn't finish it, whatever words that start. Just dips his tongue back into your mouth, searching for yours, because you taste like him. So faint but there and that's all he needs, before the button goes undone from his thumb. Jeans and underwear sagging around his waist, making way for the swell of him.

"Go ahead sweetheart, it's yours".

Your foreheads touch, the two of you an audience all by yourselves, watching him split you slow with the help of your guiding hand. A measured first thrust to get you reacquainted, but so that he could savor this too. Feel the pulsing heat of your walls, a tremble in your gasp as he reaches a bit further every second.

It's all just a little too much for him at the moment, so when he jerks you forward and leaves you dangling a bit off the sink, you understand and just deal. Why wouldn't you?, when he's filling you to the brim each time, rolling his hips into a pound that feels just right. Dances behind the line of too much so perfectly. Frank's not a dancer, but the rhythm is expert, leaving you a hissing mess. Hands holding his arms for support as he roughs you by the legs impossibly closer.

"Fuck me Frank, you feel so good".

You don't notice it, not when you're so far gone, your fingers digging into newly sown stitches. It isn't purposeful though, he knows it, but the burn of it feels too good to stop you. The trickle down his arm, a hot white pain, but you're tightening, pussy so soft and wet for him. Mumbling his name, sweet little whimpers as you press harder, break open his wounds to leave them open to the air.

"Shit girl, you're killin' me".

He means it in every sense of the word. Wants the pain to end and keep going a little while longer. Wants to be nebulous in release but loves the twist you give his gut. The soft squelch of your heat, little whispers about "being close", about how good his dick feels. You moan, clench a little harder at the move of him, and even when his pace falters, slacks just a bit, a wanton sort of delight filters your veins. Urges you to wander a little more into acute awareness, just enough to grab his jaw. Kiss him with bloody fingers and suck gently at the slip of his tongue just so that it makes his hips jerk. You swallow grunts and groans with your lips, and when the time comes, after he's spilled into you, a throbbing mess as he presses into you hard to savor the feeling, you whine in release. Cling to him as you shudder exhalations, helpless to the waves rippling through you.

After sometime, when you're both settled in the haze, you notice his arm, moving to see to it. "Shit m'sorry".

He's too busy on a mission to kiss you again to care. "S'alright".

[i-cant-sing]

Hey I have a yandere erasermic obsession. I don’t know if you do angst but what if they were punishing reader and she gets really exhausted and passes out. They think they killed her, I know this is dumb and you don’t have to do it if it makes you uncomfortable-🍓 anon

Yandere Erasermic punishing reader

I've missed these two a lot😭

Anyways, enjoy! Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Yandere Erasermic:

"Hey! I'm home! How are my darlings- Shou? You okay?" Hizashi asked as he entered his home. He was looking forward to spending time with you and the hero, but judging by the pissed off look on Aizawa's face, it didn't seem like happening.

Aizawa was taking deep breaths, his eyebrows furrowed and face contorted into a scowl. God, what did you do now? Hizashi couldn't help but wonder that, as he slid onto the couch next to his husband.

"What did she do now?"Hizashi asked, resting his head on Aizawa's chest as his arms wrapped around him.

Aizawa closed his eyes in annoyance, his own arms engulfing Hizashi as he let out a huff. "She's so ungrateful."

Hizashi lightly chuckled at that, waiting for him to continue. "You know what she did today? She tried to escape. Again. I don't know how she got the code to unlock the main door, but she opened it. She barely made it 2 steps out the door before I pulled her back in. I was taking a shower and she thought she could make a run for it. " Aizawa runs a hand through his hair, but Hizashi suddenly caught it. He looked at his husband's hand, it was turning a nasty shade of purple, and was red around the knuckles, slightly swelled. "Shou, babe... what happened to your hand?"

Aizawa exhales deeply, closing his eyes, trying to control his anger. "Our sweet little darling happened. After I got her back in, I told her to apologise. You know what she did? She spit at me, screamed all kinds of profanities. When I took her down to the basement to chain her up, she tried attacking me." Aizawa clenched his jaw. "I was only going to leave her there for the night. But what she said to me next... Hizashi, I lost it. I punched her." Hizashi's eyes widened. He knew Aizawa wasn't one to lose his temper easily, he knew he wasn't one to resort to violence immediately. So the blonde could only wonder what in the hell did you say to him. "Shouta... what did she say?" He asked softly, almost afraid of the answer himself.

Shouta looked at his husband, trying to calm himself when he told him what you barked out. "She said...she said that she wondered how UA let... let creeps like us around kids." Hizashi's eyes widened. If there's one thing he knew about Aizawa, it was how deeply he cared about his students, treating them like his own children. He prided himself in being their teacher, and so the nerve of you to even say something so disgusting like that, Aizawa was bound to snap.

"I cant believe she'd say something...so horrible. I'm so sorry, Shou." Hizashi whispered, nuzzling Aizawa's neck. The pro hero only grunted. "Whatever. I think it'd be good if she stays down there... for 2 weeks. Yeah that'd be good. And no dinner tonight either. I don't want to put up with anymore of her bullshit." Hizashi only nodded, but then caught another look at his hand and he stood up, pulling Aizawa along with him to the kitchen. Hizashi pulled out a bag of frozen peas and started applying it on his bruise hand to reduce the swelling.

As the two ate dinner, Hizashi couldn't help but worry that if Shouta's hand looked like this from the punch, then what did the receiving end look like. He chose to remain quiet on that matter, not wanting you to ruin the night anymore.

The next morning when Aizawa woke up, he went downstairs to the kitchen to find his husband. Hizashi who was almost done plating up, greeted Aizawa with a kiss. "So, should I take this plate down to our baby bird?" Hizashi asked, already knowing Aizawa didn't want to see you yet. You had really hurt him. Shouta nodded as he took a sip of his coffee. "Be right back." Hizashi pressed a kiss to his lips before going to the basement.

Hizashi opened the door to the basement, walking down the stairs, hoping to see you greet him like the angel they know you are deep down. But when he got down there, he saw you were still asleep on the floor, your limbs still bound to the chains. Your face was turned away from him and Hizashi wasnt sure if he wanted to see the damage that was done to your face.

Hizashi just called for you. “Love, I’ve brought breakfast! Eggs and hashbrowns! Your favourite!” When you didnt respond, he just sighed before placing the plate on the floor. Your chains were long enough to for you to reach it, and while Hizashi wished nothing more than to feed you himself, he knew you needed to be punished.

As he went up the stairs and out of the basement, he couldnt help but feel a sense of dread creeping up on him.

“Do you think she’ll be sorry after her punishment?”Hizashi asked his partner.  Aizawa rolled his eyes. “Unlikely. But she’ll learn to think twice before she says stupid shit like that.” Hizashi chuckled, but secretly hoped that would be the case. He got up from the couch where he and Aizawa sat. “I’ll go get her plate.” They were done eating 2 hours ago, but still waited for you to finish up because they know how stubborn you are.

When Hizashi walked down the stairs, he wasn’t surprised to find your plate untouched. You would always do that the first few days, before finally succumbing to your hunger. Pointless, really. But what disturbed him was how you were still in the same position he had seen you in 2 hours ago. And it was coming to him how still you looked, he couldn't see your body moving a single muscle, he couldn't see if you were breathing. 

Hizashi walked towards you cautiously, waiting for you to jump up and scare the crap out of him. But his breath hitched when he finally saw what had happened to you. 

A big bruise had formed on your cheek, swelling and taking all the shades of the purple, blue and green. But the worst part was seeing the blood and a clear liquid dripping out of your nose slowly, forming a pool around your head.

He turned you on to your back and started shaking your shoulder. “Darling? Wake up, baby. Its me. Baby, wake up.” But your body remained unconscious. He started tapping your cheek, only then noticing you weren’t breathing. All the alarms went off in his head. “SHOUTA! COME DOWN OVER HERE!” 

Shouta rushed to the basement, wondering what stunt you pulled now. But seeing your limp body in Hizashi’s arms, blood coating your cheeks, he knew something terrible had occured. Aizawa ran towards his partners, looking at your bruising cheek. “She’s n-not breathing. She’s not fucking breathing, Shou!” Hizashi sobbed as Aizawa took your wrist in his hand. His blood ran cold when he found no pulse. “What are we gonna do?! She’s dead! Our baby is dead!” Shouta blocked out Hizashi’s voice. They both cant be panicking right now. Aizawa turned to his partner. “Hizashi. Bring her up. I’ll get the car out.” He commanded. “H-hospital? Shou, its too late-” Hizashi cried out but Aizawa gave him a stern look. “Bring her up. Now.” 

They got to the hospital in fairly record time, passing you over to the doctors while Aizawa made up a story of how they found you in an alley. Only after the doctors left them alone did it dawn on Aizawa how serious the situation was. He killed you, didnt he? You would still be alive if he hadnt hit you. How could he ever claim to love you when he hurts you-

Aizawa shook his head, he could wallow up in his guilt later. For now, he needed to comfort his husband and pray that you make it through somehow.

A few hours later, the doctors had given them an update on your condition. You made it, barely. Something had hit your face and damaged some part of your brain, causing there to be a very slow heart beat. But you're all okay now, since they brought you in time.

When they were allowed to finally go in, thats when Aizawa finally broke down. Seeing you unconscious, knowing he almost killed you, it got to him. Hizashi wanted to console Aizawa, but he couldn't bring himself to leave your side. Hizashi pressed soft kisses to your temples, wiping his tears that fell on your cheek, while Aizawa stood to your side. He wanted to hold your hand but he was afraid to hurt you again. As the duo sat by your side, they made a silent promise to never hurt you again, at least not physically.

After that incident, you'll never be left alone. The two are always breathing down your neck, drowning you in love, looking at you with even more fondness; obsession and protectiveness swirling in their eyes, right there with guilt.

Aizawa would never apologise, but that doesn't mean he's not sorry. You would often wake up to him looking at your bruised cheek with worry, caressing it so gently, as if he'd break you. He'll be a lot more demanding with physical affection, always wrapping his arms around you, forcing you onto his lap and tucking your face under his chin as he cards his fingers through your hair.

You didn't think Hizashi could be anymore overbearing, but you were proved wrong. He'd panic if you were out of his sight for more than 5 minutes. Always worrying, paranoia creeping up on him when you're not in the same room as him. And when he would finally find you (mostly in the bathroom), he'd check you all over for injuries, not trusting your assurances.

Punishments aren't violent anymore. They're humiliating. Pulling you in their laps and feeding you by hand, talking about you as if you're not there, making you take baths with them(not showers because they end too quickly), making you sleep with them, naked.

And the couple won't lie, but this form of punishment seems to be far more effective. With how quickly you turn docile, folding in on yourself as if you could hide from them... its cute.

But hey, its better than getting beat, right?

[gemstone-roses]

Eddie hurt comfort, you say? Hmm... reader is touch starved & both shies away & leans into touches. Eddie is as patient as he can be and gives Y/N what they need, but one day, Y/N will NOT calm down. Pacing, muttering to themselves, really really anxious. Glancing at Eddie, tearful, then away again super quickly. Won't look at him because they'll break. So Eddie takes control, grabs their face in his hands and makes them look at him. He's soft, sweet, but also he won't take shit. You will let him help you.

Hold me

Thankyou for this omg!!!!

Warnings: anxiety, anxiety attack, touch starved reader

A:N- this, um wow this hit me fucking deep anyway enjoy!! who needs therapy when we have eddie munson 18+ only thanku. Please be kind🥺

"Y/n". He's using his firm voice, a voice reserved only for serious conversations, usually at 3am when things get a bit too existential and your thoughts stumble onto the not nice ones you bury.

But eddie always manages to pull you back. He thinks it's cute, when you ramble,he chews on his hair, a lazy grin splattered across his face while he listens to you, laying on his bed staring up at the nicotine stained ceiling, him next to you leaning against the window his bed is shoved up against, only interjecting when he can think of something funny to say.

He picks his moments.

His lips move but you here no sounds come out.

Your in his kitchen which is small but tonight it is tiny, it is tiny and you can't breathe. You look over to him and turn away each time he feels your gaze because you cannot, absolutley not look at him now because he will be eddie and you will shatter.

Your chest heaves up and down, fingers in your mouth as you chew on your nail

Eddie reaches out to you and you flinch, it's okay because he's used to it now, you shy away even though you know you need it.

Eddie waits a few moments before placing his arms on yours again, this time he grips you, not hard but hard enough to make sure you feel.

"Hey" he says firmly again, he's looking right at you and you look anywhere but.

Eddie reaches to cup your face, swiping his thumb at the curve of your eye.

"Please, you gotta breathe for me sweetheart"

You scrunch your eyes shut and Eddie will be dammed he is going to help you out of this, whether in this very moment you want him too or not.

Eddie reaches for the chain around his neck, balling it up into his fist.

"Here" he says, he grabs your hand so now your touching it and the metal is cold and warm and a bit sweaty but it makes you stop. And look at him

Just for a second, but thats all he needs.

Eddie reaches for your other hand and places it on his chest.

No other words are needed, he holds your hand against his chest, the other still clinging onto his chain, Eddie's face softens.

Eddie moves his free hand to the back of your neck

"Your okay" he says and you swallow.

"Your gonna be okay" he says more firmly, his voice breaking slightly at the end.

You squeeze the chain in your hand tighter before you lean in and place your forehead on his.

"Come on sweetheart, let me hear ya" he whispers, swiping at a tear running down your face

"I, I'm gonna be okay" your voice is barely a whisper, comes out all broken.

Eddie smiles at you and you breathe a sigh of relief and it doesn't go unnoticed

"Hey, don't, don't do that, it's okay yeah? I will always always help you no matter what so don't you dare start thinking otherwise okay"

"I wasn't thinking-

"I do not"! You whisper,

"I know how your mind works y/n, and recently it's been very unkind to you" eddie pauses "and you don't deserve that, so please remember that"

Eddie

"we're gonna get in bed and I'm gonna hold you until you fall asleep and drool on my shirt"

"Oh yeah, you do, it's adorable" Eddie's voice squeaks as he says it and you can't help the small smile appear on your face

"There we go, there you are" eddie says sincerely, that signature grin across his face again, before grabbing your hand leading you to his bedroom.

Ever the gentleman eddie signals for you to get in first.

Climbing into his bed, he opens his arms for you and you curl into him.

Your still a bit shaky, and Eddie holds you tighter, reminding you he's there and you'll be okay.

And maybe not tonight, and maybe not tomorrow, but eventually, with eddie, you will be.

[threepointseven]

Home(Dinner Part 2)

Im shortening the exchange students name to S/N AKA student name

Sorry i forgot to answer the person who actually requested this @kurooandkarmaswife thank you sm for requesting! I hope you enjoy 😩

Also lets pretend you cant have more than 1 pact with a human cause yeah. If you havent read Dinner yet go read it since you’ll really only understand this if u read the first part

Fandom: Obey me!

Pairing: not really with anyone but has subtle undertones of solomon & Simeon x reader

Length: sort of long

Genre: Angst with comfort

Gn! Reader and exchange student!

Part three!

Dinner last night, was, well...pretty terrible. I ended up waking up at 2 am to the brothers STILL not home. Apparently even Diavolo had taken a liking to the new exchange student.

A day goes by and finally i get to meet the new exchange student.

Whoah

Is all i can think. I walk into the living room unnoticed as everyone is talking to the new exchange student, i wouldnt blame them.

They look incredible.

I felt a hint of jealousy wash over me. Seeing Mammon, Asmo’s and Beel’s joyful laughs as they talk to them. Their voice was ever so gentle, it’s what i imagine spring to sound like.

I tried forgetting about my distasteful thoughts of jealousy and walked over to them.

“Goodmorning!”

I called out to try and grab their attention

“Oh, MC! I didnt see you there;;”

Asmo said to me as he was taking selfies with the new exchange student

“This is the new exchange student”

Beel smiled

“Hi! My name is MC”

I happily introduced myself

“My name is S/N”

They brought their hand out and i shook it in return. Their eyes were ever so sweet, i felt the sadness come over me as i wore a soft smile.

Something tells me this wont end well.

Weeks go by as i barely get to see the brothers anymore. They’re always around S/N. I find myself longing the brothers touch. The random emergency texts i get from mammon, calls from Asmo asking me if i wanted to go to a club, Belphie always dragging me to his room to take a nap, Beel’s adorable goodnight texts, Lucifer’s complaints about work, Satan’s library dates, And levi’s rants about a certain anime he just watched.. i missed it all.

I guess i missed the warmth and the constant attention i got from them. The attention thats now being directed at S/N.

The new feeling of emptiness leads me to the Purgatory hall, a place i’ve been to quite often after S/N had won over the brothers.

I enter the room praying that i dont see S/N hogging Luke, Solomon, and Simeon’s attention....

What?

Did i just think that?

Am i that jealous?

Have i gotten so used to being in the spotlight that suddenly i become like this when not in the center?

Its an unpleasant feeling and i try to snap myself out of it as i see Simeon, Luke, and Solomon all happily seated on the couch drinking tea and eating pastries Luke made.

“MC! Hey!!”

Luke happily greets me as well as Solomon and Simeon. Im pulled to the couch as im seated next to Luke. I take a bite of the pastry and embrace the comfort of the sugary sweets.

The conversation goes on for a long time as hours go by. Soon enough the entire tray of pastries and tea are long gone.

As the clock hits 8 PM i realize ive been at the Purgatory hall for too long now. Excusing myself i go back to the house of Lamentation to be once again greeted by smiling faces and S/N laying out plates filled with food for the brothers.

The brothers quarrels, Satan’s face of annoyance, Asmo’s whining... The smell of warm food on the dinner table being handed out....

As i hide from the view of the brothers and S/N i look back to when it would to be me that made everyone dinner and calmed them down.

My chair.

My chair had been occupied by S/N,

What?

Did they expect me to sit on the floor for dinner or something?

As i slowly walked to my room i heard the deep voice of Lucifer

“Oh MC,,, sorry S/N is sitting on your spot, we thought you were gonna go to the purgatory hall for dinner tonight. We do apologize”

As i feel my throat closing up i smile and say in a bubbly tone

“Oh it’s fine! I was actually gonna go out with my friends for dinner anyways! I was just getting something from my room, i’ll be out in a sec!”

Lucifer gave me a warm smile and continued conversing with S/N

As i went to my room i started to realize the situation here. I’ve been replaced. I mean who wouldn’t replace me when the actual definition of an angel was right in front of them with their welcoming arms open.

As soon as i got to my room salty tears trailed down my cheeks,

Jealousy?

Sadness?

Anger?

Whatever the emotion was i wasn’t having it. Unlocking my DDD to be greeted by the wallpaper of me and the brothers all dressed up for a ball we went to together once. i tried to hold back my few tears as i called Solomon, a dear friend of mine.

“Hey solomon!!”

“Oh, yes MC? Is there anything you need?”

“I know i just left the purgatory hall but could I possibly stay there for the night?”

“Oh, of course! I dont exactly know why but Luke’s already whining about how you stayed for too little.”

“I’ll be right over”

I hung up the phone, my tears stopping after i heard that comforting voice of his.

That night i stayed at the purgatory hall, happily sleeping next to Luke, lulling him to sleep.

The purgatory hall became my escape. Solomon always made me laugh, Simeon always made sure i felt welcome there and Luke was practically my adopted son after how long i could stay with him.

As i went about the kitchen helping Luke make a pastry i showed him from the human world a strange feeling washed over me. The feeling of something being erased from my my soul, something was fading away. That something felt like it was piercing my soul.

I look around my body to see what it is. As i look around i see it.

My pact marks are starting to fade

I panic as i excuse myself and go back to the house of lamentation.

As i silently enter the room i hear the faint sound of the brothers, they’re discussing something.

“Cmon Satan you’ve gotta be quick! What if they find out?!”

“Removing a pact isnt that easy Mammon.”

As i listen more i realize what it is.

They’re trying to break my pact with me.

And for what exactly?

Because they want one with someone else.

That someone being S/N

It hurt. Who wouldn’t be hurt? tears flowed from my eyes in record time as i tiredly walk outside.

Devildom was a place the brothers always told me to beware of, but right now i couldnt care less.

While i walked around the town with puffy eyes and the stinging feeling of my pact marks being removed, i hear a certain group of people call my name, i look back to see Luke, Solomon and Simeon’s smiles quickly turn into frowns as they see my tears

“What’s wrong MC?!”

Luke worriedly asks

Unable to hold it in i tell Them.

“The brothers are trying to break my pact with them, they want one with S/N apparently. Im afraid i’ve been replaced by that saint..”

Solomon and Simeon’s face turn into faces of empathy while Luke’s turned quite sour

As Simeon came closer to me and pulled me close into a hugged he mumbles out a comforting phrase

“Whatever happens MC, you’ll always be welcome at the purgatory hall.”

The sentence made my stomach overflow with butterflies. I happily hug back, quickly accepting the purgatory hall as my new and improved home.

[safetycar-restart]

Hello hello me again because watching that absolute shitshow of a GP gave me Thoughts, first and foremost of which: poor Charles!!! Baby deserved better :((( so obviously he’ll be needing a lot of cheering up tonight….you’re gonna have to treat him like glass and there’s definitely gonna be tears… he’s gonna drop HARD and the aftercare will be intense, he’s gonna be clingyyyy but you’d give him all the love & affection he needs because b a b y

Other Thoughts include: Mick’s crash :((( my heart leapt into my throat I’m so glad he’s okay!!! But he’s gonna be all sore & shaken up so he’s gonna need some TLC tonight… maybe not even sexual, he just needs to be looked after… maybe he’ll drop into littlespace or maybe he’ll just need to be held…. Speaking of being held, my heart breaks every week for Daniel.. when will he get a break??? He’s another who’ll need some TLC…

Lando & Georgie did so well tho!!! They’re getting some celebratory loving tonight!! Even tho Lando isn’t 100%, he was amazing & deserves some rewarding!!! And Pierre who had such a shit quali did some amazing overtakes, he should be so proud!! (he’s still gonna get wrecked tho ofc ;))…. 🐬

YES! IT’S TIME FOR ANOTHER ONE OF THESE! So for maybe new, I go through some races with the lovely 🐬 anon and talk about what you would do for them as a result of how their race went :))

CHARLES:

Poor baby Charles. He manages to keep it together enough to do interviews, but only just, and the moment thats over, he can’t even do the debrief. He can’t do a single fucking thing anymore. He just... he can’t. He can’t do it.

Mattia gets it though, luckily and just sends him to you. You take him home, back to his apartment and he drops halfway through the ride home. One minute he’s looking at you, the next he’s staring out the window, eyes glossy.

You have to be so careful with him anyway and he just breaks so hard. He cries into your chest, mumbling in every language he knows and you hold him through it.

The sex is slow and sweet, Charles crying the entire time but you get it. He’s dropped into subspace and he’s experiencing so many emotions but it’s okay because he’s safe here and he can feel them.

You don’t leave the apartment for the next three days.

MICK:

I definitely think for mick, it would be non-sexual. He’s so angry with himself and with everything but mostly, he’d be scared. Scared that he’s not good enough, that he’s a disappointment, that he won’t ever accomplish what he wants to accomplish.

So you take all his decisions away for the night. You strip him of all his clothes, he’s only allowed to wear his collar. He wants to be spanked but you won’t do that, he doesn’t get to even make suggestions tonight.

He’s deep in subspace by the end, drifting away as you instruct him through his nightly routine, rubbing lotion on his face and holding the cup of water to his lips for him to rinse.

He’s your boy that night. No one else’s. Not even his own.

DANIEL:

Honestly, I think Daniel might need you to be harsh. You’ve been soft for so long, and he’s needed that. He’s needed to feel loved and useful and everything else.

But right now, he’s got this anger and frustration bubbling in his chest and he doesn’t know how to make it go away. You do though you. You know it takes being rough.

So Daniel doesn’t have it easy. He gets manhandled and barely prepped and fucked so hard he can’t even remember his own name. And then he gets ridden to another orgasm, used as a toy, and even when he’s crying and begging for it to stop, you get another orgasm out of him before you do.

He’s spent them. Tired and sore and finally, he feels calm.

LANDO:

Lando did so good!!! You let him choose what he wants to do that night because he’s been such a good boy and he deserves a treat!!

He chooses to be blindfolded. Which is a great choice because you always love his reactions. You make sure to do all his favourite things and give in the moment he begs, he’s been a good boy.

GEORGE:

Honestly, I don’t think it would be very sexual for George either? Yes he did so well! And he’s so happy with himself.

But he’s just feeling so happy and a little giddy and nothing would make him happier than cuddling with you in bed, drinking hot chocolate and discussing random shit.

PIERRE:

Oh pierre is going to be absolutely wrecked. Poor guy won’t even be able to stand when your done with him and it’s exactly what he asked for.

He does go out, but for like an hour and then he gets too desperate and drags you back to the hotel. There’s no race next week, so you can be harsh with him and he loves every single moment.

He’s an absolute wreck by the end, and it takes him three days before he can even manage to be in a room without you but it’s the best. He loves every moment of it, including the aftercare.