#how can i call myself a victim when i let it happen

[fleshengine]

What happened to your friend does sound awful, but it doesn't sound like something that's actually unique to trans women. Someone making false claims after a bad breakup and people believing claims of victimization are fairly normal occurrences across the board, especially since people do generally believe it's praxis to believe all victims immediately. The fact that your friends came around in a matter of days is a better than average result.

Hi Velvet, I think this is the second or third time you've come on to one of my posts where I talked about transmisogyny and tagged it as such. Those posts don't get a ton of traction, do you just like... patrol the transmisogyny tag or something?

Anyway I do not feel a need to clarrify myself to you. But I will add that there were a lot of details that I didn't add to the post, stuff I will not be discussing, that solidifies my belief that it was an example of transmisogyny. I'm not at liberty to talk about some of it, and for the rest I honestly just do not care enough to defend myself to you. I lived my life and you read a rant about it.

That aside, do you know how many transfems I know who have been made out to be rapists/mentally ill after they broke up with their partners? Do you want me to list all the normal occurences across the board that have made me personally terrified to show others intimacy? Why is it that when someone says "that trans girl is a rapist!" people believe her but when trans girls say "we keep getting called rapists, this sucks" we get people like you telling us that it's normal to be made out into a charicature and systematically cut off from your entire social group?

Now that I've got that out of the way, let's dig into your word choice.

"What happened to your friend" this voice is so passive it's going 45 in a 50. "What that guy did to your friend" is much more direct and active, that's a sentence fragment that drinks orange juice with its breakfast. I probably would've accepted "what was done to your friend" because even though it's passive it still emphasizes that someone did something wrong. But you didn't even do that. Instead you completely removed the idea of fault from the equation, no one did it, nothing caused it, it was divine intervention that my friend nearly lost their entire support network.

"does sound awful" it doesn't sound like anything. It is awful, through and through. I hate the man that did it even though my friend has forgiven him.

"better than average result" average what? Messy breakup or transfem targetting rumor mill? It was a better than average result, I can attest to the average and it's not good. I'm glad I was there to sway people back to reality.

Moving on, you only addressed one of the two things I mentioned. I said "break up with a trans woman and unperson her" and "unperson any trans woman who's minorly annoying." You completely skipped the whole "a guy tried to tell people I was a gaslighter because I asked him to stop calling my friend a sociopath" bit. The post wasn't even saying that what happened was specifically transmisogynistic (it was), I was literally just talking about how stuff I was hearing mapped onto my life.

I also find it interesting, how you put this in an ask instead of a reblog. A reblog puts whatever I said on your account, an account I've heard you regularly use to support transmisogynists. I'm happy to talk to you more, genuinely I like to argue and you seem interesting enough. But I want what I say on your account. I'm not going to respond to another ask or reblog on this one until you reblog the original. Here I even got you a link.

[desertdxg]

tw rape (not cnc), venting, negative

its been four months, and its all i can think about.

i can feel the duct tape on my wrists.

i can feel the pressure on my neck and chest.

i can taste the fabric of his boxers in my mouth.

i can still feel the dull sting on my ass from the canes.

i can feel the hair being ripped out from the tape he used to make me keep it in.

i can smell the non latex condoms he used, because he was allergic to latex.

i sob and cry and panic whenever a pillow ends up on my face.

even when it was an accident, or it happened in my sleep...

i wake up in terror, thinking that it's happening all over again.

and there's five new scratches on my face to prove it.

i get aroused thinking about it, sometimes.

and yet, im ashamed of it and ashamed of myself for letting it happen.

i have taken at least a hundred showers since that day, may seventeenth, twenty twenty-three.

multiple times a day, some days, and the filth he has buried in my skin has not washed off and i doubt it ever will.

i was and am a stupid whore, and im ashamed of myself for letting it happen to me.

i remember he only stopped because he couldn't get it up and cum any more.

it was four months ago and it was all my fault.

[inkskinned]

what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?

i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?

a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?

in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.

girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.

there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.

for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.

something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.

is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.

most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."

a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.

[phantomrose96]

What the hell happens in the pikmin game?? Those little colourful bitches have been around for ages, but i never bothered looking them up, i just figured they were cute little mascots of some game. But your posts are making me question everything. Is it a horror game? (I know i could just google it, but asking you is funnier)

Yeah you're right asking me is much funnier :)

Pikmin is a fun and relaxing game! You play as a little astronaut man who gets to spend his days growing Pikmin, who are sweet and peaceful little plant creatures with leaves, buds, or flowers on their heads. You can corral them around with a little trumpet, like a bouquet of flowers following you through the pretty and whimsical landscapes of planet PNF-404 :)

Wait did I say fun and relaxing?

Sorry, typo.

It's a brutal skill-based survival game (❁´◡`❁)

So then maybe you're wondering, what's up with the Pikmin? What was that about growing a bunch of little flower guys? Well growing the Pikmin is super important!

It's super duper important mainly because you need to replace the Pikmin who die in the carnage of battle for you!

Battle against what?

Everything.

See on PNF-404, Pikmin are the bottom of the food chain. Just about every living breathing creature on this planet is orders of magnitude larger than the Pikmin and munch Pikmin by the hundreds for breakfast. Predators will do this instinctively. They will do this unprompted. They will do this while you're not looking. They will do this endlessly until every last Pikmin is dead.

So... what good are the Pikmin? What chance do they stand?

Really easy. Pikmin are the most violent creatures in the entire game 🥰🥰🥰.

How else do you survive when you're small and fragile other than incredible violence? Pikmin can exist out and about in swarms of up to 100. And the only way to survive predators as small little leaf creatures is to beat those predators to death with incredible mob violence before they can kill all of you.

Pikmin don't die like plants. They die like warriors.

And sometimes, this is the hardest mechanic to handle. Left to their own devices Pikmin will seek to shed blood. It's up to you to call them away from orchestrating their own demise, their own pursuit of the glory of Valhalla. It's in their nature. It's in their plant-blood.

And they go down hard. They shriek when snapped up in the jaws of predators. They glub and wail when drowning in water. They trill out screams when on fire. They choke and cough in poison. They die instantly to electricity. And you'll know a Pikmin is well and truly dead once it lets out a final whimper, and a ghost drifts away from where it once stood. This can happen by the dozens. This can happen to all 100 at once.

So wait, wait I've gotten far ahead of myself. Why the violence? Why the death? Why the fighting? What was that about a little astronaut man?

Well your astronaut man is Olimar, an honest and simple family man who's a freight ship captain from his home planet of Hocotate. He's a truck driver! He's just a guy taking his first vacation in years.

And a meteorite strikes his ship, tearing it to pieces as it crash-lands on a completely uncharted planet. Welcome to PNF-404...

And so you're Olimar. A truck driver. A nice dad. A victim of capitalism with the world's worst boss. Out on vacation.

Your ship is destroyed. No one is coming for you. No one will save you.

The oxygen on PNF-404 is poisonous.

You have 30 days before your life support system runs out.

You have 30 days until you die a brutal and lonely death.

Your only hope is to find every scattered missing piece of your ship--30 of them--strewn across the planet, return them to your ship, and repair it, before your 30 days are up.

But this is simply impossible. You're one tiny little man. You wouldn't be able to lift a single piece of your ship, let alone 30 of them, let alone doing so while fending off the wildlife hellbent on killing you.

But the Pikmin seem to like you...

So all that death? All the carnage and destruction? It's all in the effort to repair Olimar's ship before he suffocates. You pave a path of destruction decorated with the bodies of any creature that stands before you and your missing ship pieces.

The Pikmin do it. The Pikmin trust you. The Pikmin follow your command and die by your command. After all, you're growing their species. Oh did I forget to explain that part? The "how" of how growing Pikmin works?

Simple. Pikmin are grown from the corpses of the creatures they kill :).

If you kill something, the Pikmin take it back to their base and process it for pieces, and grow new Pikmin from it. That's how you get all the nice little flower creatures following you around. :)

Is it good enough? Can you sleep at night knowing that 50 creatures who trusted you implicitly were slaughtered under your misdirection? All to retrieve a hunk of metal which is 1/30 of the hope of getting you home alive? 100 slaughtered? 200? Day 30 is approaching. Things are looking bleak.

You're Olimar. Day 30 has arrived, and you haven't fully reconstructed your ship. You have no option to stay. Your life support has run out. You watch the Pikmin you've left behind, as you attempt to start up your ship which has not been safely repaired.

You try to take off, and try to make it home.

It does not go well.

But at least the Pikmin have another corpse to carry.

[amarriageoftrueminds]

View on Twitter

Since it came up recently, link to that therapist on twitter 👆 who was discussing Bucky's terribile therapist in TFATWS and how they should’ve been. 

Transcript:

"As a therapist myself I've had a lot of feelings about Bucky's therapist on TFatWS, and have decided I need to rant a little to let it all out. I've worked w/active duty, trauma survivors, and court ordered clients, so here's some therapeutic conjecture on Bucky's therapy:

Aesthetically her office and presentation don't fit for someone who has been through the trauma that he’s been through. A client like this would need something non-threatening and safe- the whole vibe is overly formal and official in an office building, not at all therapeutic.

6 months working together she calls him Mr. Barnes and then James-he has identity issues and is struggling with who he is, so I think that one of the 1st things they would have done is figure out what he is comfortable being called, by whom and what that means for him.

He is still full out lying to her about pretty much everything including PTSD sx—I’m not saying clients never lie if they have good therapists, but if after 6 months he still doesn’t feel like he can be truthful at all then they haven’t built any trust/ solid therapeutic rapport

The pen and notebook thing-that’s clearly a trigger for him, there’s no reason to antagonize him and take notes in session like a punishment, it’s a power play on her part and it only emphasizes his lack of control in being forced into therapy (she should know his hx w/notebooks)

The whole little arm motion she made when she said “they need to make sure you don’t…” – that made so much light of what has happened to him, he probably feels like his arm is only good as a weapon and things like that will not help him accept it as part of his body

The rules, UGH the rules—from how they were talking about them clearly not something he actively created for himself, more like directives that he’s been ordered to adhere to—something fed to him and reinforced, feels like a way to sign off on liability only

THE AMENDS—this is probably my biggest issue. Amends are for people who need to take accountability for their actions and the repercussions of those choices. He had NO choice. He was a victim of horrific crimes against him, and framing it in a way that he needs to make up for

the crimes that others used him for is abhorrent. The lack of trauma informed care as astounding in the way it is being framed that he has to atone for sins that weren’t his. Its clearly reinforcing the idea in his head in ep 2 when he says “HYDRA were my people".

NO, HYDRA were your captors. They were not your people. That type of thinking needs to get deconstructed and challenged. He can dedicate himself to bringing good into the world and righting wrongs that happened WITHOUT taking on the responsibility of those actions.

Her whole attitude and demeanor were condescending and demeaning. I know some people have said “I love how she calls him out on his bullshit!” That’s not what I see happening. I call my clients out on their shit all the time—this was not that.

And I can only do that with clients ONCE we’ve built the type of relationship where it’s going to be therapeutic for them to hear it, and it’s done intentionally and with purpose. She just came off shaming and mean because they don’t seem to have any form of therapeutic rapport.

She said “you have no history, no family”- there is no therapeutic reason for that, and she’s wrong. He most likely has family alive (he used current tense when talking about his sister) and he was close to Shuri and TChalla, his history is vital to understanding him

When she said “Look, I know that you have been through a lot, but you’ve got your mind back. You are being pardoned. These are good things. You’re free.”—Yeah this feels really dismissive and like toxic positivity. “I know you’ve been through a lot BUT BE HAPPY!!??”

He certainly doesn’t seem to feel like he’s free (especially having therapy mandated), and you can’t just tell someone they’re free. I felt like she was pretty much just like, “shake it off, look to the future!” which feels really shitty when you’ve experienced excessive trauma.

HELLO breach of confidentiality, just introducing herself to Sam as his therapist and confirming it to Walker and the whole police station, it doesn’t matter if they know he’s in therapy you do not break someone’s privacy like that, he still deserves some control over his tx.

Ordering Sam into a session, NO, he’s not your client and you don’t know him well enough to know if that’s appropriate or if it would be harmful to either, and you haven’t asked your client for his consent to have another person in his session

Forcing a trauma victim who was stripped of his bodily autonomy for 70 years into a physically intimate exercise with a coworker that he’s barely interacted with in the last several months? NOPE, just reinforcing to Bucky she has control over him the way his handlers used to

To me, I think she is more focused on signing off on his psychological eval that he isn't a liability rather than any actual healing or attention to his trauma. This unfortunately isn’t unusual in the military where “mental health treatment” is focused on being mission ready.

They are making sure he’s ready to be an “asset” w/ mandated therapy, which he shouldn’t even be forced to do as part of his pardon because he shouldn’t have needed a pardon at all because he was a victim of horrific war crimes, brainwashing, and dehumanization for 70 years.

I’m just saying, if that was me he would be on my big squishy couch, bright open windows, bowl of Hershey kisses, random fidget toys, and two therapy dogs laying all over him while we work through that trauma and he builds back his identity and finds the calm he wants so badly.

And yes he would probably need someone who would see through his BS, call him out when he needs it, not be overly "touchy feely", but only if he feels safe and there is trust, where he gets to work on what HE wants, not what others think he needs.

Anyway thanks for coming to my TEDTalk, I❤️my work and I think being a therapist on retainer for the Avengers would've been a fucking trip, they all needed a team of mental health professionals at their disposal 24/7 and things would've been so much better🤣

ps. They can be a good therapist and just not be a fit for the client, that happens regularly. We know when to make it part of the conversation and when to refer out. Nothing good is going to come out of a contemptuous therapeutic relationship, mandated or not.

pps. That whole situation and the scene with Zemo was so rough. I can't imagine how much it brought back the violation, humiliation, anger, and helplessness of when he was the WS. I'm just imagining him having a therapist he trusts and being able to process that afterwards 😭😭😭"

[justmeinadaze]

Don't Be So Hard (Steddie X Plus Size You)

"Don't be so hard on yourself The name of the game is humiliation, And thanks for your admiration. I never thought I'd say this: The way that we play has its confrontation, And guilt by association."

A/N: New version of these beings for me to try out. Thank you @bimbobaggins69 for the idea by just being amazing <3.

This take place 10 years after events in season 4 so about 1996.

Warnings: Older Dom (30s) Coach Steve Harrington/Older Dom (30s) Professor Eddie Munson & Young (20s) Fem Plus size Sub Student Y/N (whew! That's a mouth full lol), SMUT, spanking, choking, degrading, voyeurism, use of sir, FLUFF, Eddie and Steve have an established relationship. ANGST (because I'm me), reader is plus size and gets name called by the jocks (they call her names like piggy), one of them does assault her (pushes her and yells at her; brief), Steddie saves the day, mentions of reader staring in a play that makes her anxious due to her body.

This whole dynamic is technically angsty (which is why I love it muahaha).

Word Count: 8679

“I fucking hate schools.”, you grumble under your breath as you hit snooze on your alarm for the fifth time that morning. The beginning of your junior year spring semester at Hawkins University started today but the idea of getting out of bed sounded exhausting. In Hawkins, everyone was in everyone else’s business and being the bigger girl some of the jocks felt the need to butt in more than anyone else. 

“Hey Y/N. Did you put on more weight this summer? Those jeans look like they’re about to pop!”

“Should you be eating that, piggy? Maybe try a salad every now and then.”

You thought when you left high school, you wouldn’t have to deal with this crap anymore but unfortunately some of it followed you to college. 

When you finally made it to your first class it was right before it began so you could avoid any unwanted conversation. You weren’t so lucky.

“Heeeeeeey, Y/N.”, football star Martin Click cooed obnoxiously as he leaned towards you from his seat above yours. “I was hoping we’d have some classes together, piggy. I missed you over the summer. You couldn’t bother to dress up for me?”

“Oh, sorry Martin, if I had known we would be sharing a class I would have made myself uglier but unfortunately for me that’s impossible since I’m so fucking sexy. Maybe you can tutor me on how to be a sloppy asshole.”

The breathy laugh that echoed to your ears caught you off guard as you glanced up towards the front of the classroom and met the chocolate eyes of your new Literature & Writing professor. 

“I’m sorry.”, you whisper as red paints your face.

“No, no. No reason to be sorry. I thought it was a good comeback.”, he grinned making you blush even more. “Mr. Click, should I tell Coach Harrington that you’re more focused on ladies attire than my class or are we going to behave this semester?”

Rolling his eyes, Martin leaned back in his chair making the professor smugly smirk as he winked in your direction. 

“As I’m sure ya’ll are aware, I’m professor Munson and if you’re here because of my reputation then I will kindly ask you to leave. I’m not here to talk about my past or my family history.”

You had heard rumors about Eddie Munson and of course knew all about him being on the run back when you were little. You parents never let you leave the house or play outside for fear that the “satanic Hawkins killer” would snatch you up and make you his next victim. As you grew up and read more about what happened, it seemed less to you like he did anything at all and obviously the chief agreed because Mr. Munson was never tried or did any prison time. 

No, you weren’t interested in his past. You were interested in the things he could teach you. After overhearing one of his lectures, you were fascinated with the way he told a story and explained the material. He got so animated to an adorable degree and as a theater major you thought it would be fun to see how he interpreted literature while getting the final English credit you needed. 

When no one moved he smiled and began talking about usual first day things such as the syllabus and what to expect over the semester. After the class had ended and everyone left, you stayed behind and quietly made your way to his desk. 

“Hey, um, I’m sorry if I was rude or—”

“I didn’t think you were rude. If anything, he was and definitely needed to be put in his place.”, he interrupted without looking your way as he sorted through papers in front of him. “You’re Y/N, right?”

“Yes, sir. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen some of the plays you were in on campus here. I dragged my friend to see A Midsummer Night’s Dream and you actually got him to pay attention.”, Mr. Munson smiled as he finally lifted his head to look your way. “You were very good.”

“Oh, um, thank you very much. That means a lot coming from you.” He tilts his head at your comment as blush fills your cheeks again. “I just meant I’ve seen some of your lectures before and you’re an amazing storyteller. You excite me, I mean you make me want to pay attention to, I mean… ok, let’s pretend I just left right after class and didn’t just embarrass myself.”

Hugging your books to your chest, you power walk out the door as his chuckle fills your ears. 

***

With a break between periods, you hastily headed for the gym after lunch to change and get out on to the track by the field. Contrary to popular belief, you were fairly athletic despite your size and enjoyed letting off steam as you pumped your legs as fast as they could take you.

As your music blared loudly in your ears, the feeling of eyes watching you grabbed your attention towards the bleachers where Coach Harrington was standing with his arms crossed and leaning to the side as Professor Munson balanced his arm on his shoulder, murmuring something to him as their eyes followed you. 

Trying to block them out, you continued to focus on the path in front of you but was blindsided when a football whizzed past your nose almost hitting you.

“Whoa! Sorry, piggy. Have to keep your eyes open around here.”, Martin laughs as you roll your eyes. 

Glancing their way, you noticed both men were standing straighter as if prepared to defend you if needed. You weren’t a weak little girl and for whatever reason you strongly felt like you needed to show them that. As you pick up the football one of the players lifts his hands running towards you as if expecting you to not be able to throw it but at the last minute you throw a perfect spiral to their coach who doesn’t even hesitate as he lifts his hands and catches it seamlessly from the air. 

“Well, shit, gentlemen. Looks like I have a new passer.”

“Oh, no thank you, Coach Harrington. If I ever played a sport it would be with a team that doesn’t suck.”

Again, Mr. Munson snicked through his teeth as the man he was leaning on flashed you a big grin. 

#############

That night you decided to run after hours, thinking you would be alone but were surprised when you saw Coach Harrington on the track. 

“Shit! Sorry, you scared the hell out of me.”, he nervously chuckled. 

“I’M sorry. I thought no one would be out here.”

“Yeah, normally there aren’t.”, he teased raising an eyebrow at you. “Well, don’t let me stop you.”

As he took off continuing to jog, you pushed your headphones on your head and started your run. After a couple of laps with you in your zone, your feet abruptly slipped out from under you as you tumbled forward onto the gravel.

“Whoa!”, Coach Harrington shouted in concern as he ran to your side and kneeled down. “Are you alright?”

“Ow. Yeah, I just…tripped. Fuck that hurt.”

“Let me see.” Without any hesitation, his hand gripped your leg and looked it over. “Oof, you may have a pretty good bruise there but you should be alright.” Rising to his feet, he extended his hand to you to help you up which you eagerly accepted while he gripped you tightly and led you towards the bleachers. “You must have been deep in thought because you passed me a couple of times and didn’t even turn your head.”

“I did? Yeah, I’m sorry. I just have some things on my mind.”

“No, I know what you mean. Eddie—Professor Munson told me what happened in his class. If any of those guys bother you again, please let me know. I’ll make them run laps or even sit them out of a game if I have to. Nothing scares these kids more than not being able to play.”

You knew of Steve Harrington mostly because of his parents. The Harrington’s were prominent members of the community and very well respected. In your high school there had been pictures of him from his days on the basketball and swim team when he was a student. 

After he graduated, other rumors began to circulate about him spending time with the “freaks of Hawkins” but who cares. Not you especially since you had been labeled a freak since elementary. 

“I, um, I hope you didn’t take offense to what I said. Your team doesn’t suck just…some of your players. I mean, not their playing ability just their personalities. FUCK, why can’t I talk today?”

His smile widens as he laughs from his gut making you don your own smile. 

Coach Harrington’s eyes meet yours for a moment before a controlled laugh escapes his lips.

“What, um, what were you listening to so loud that you didn’t hear me yelling for you to slow down?”

Giggling, you gesture towards your Walkman. 

“Just some CD I burned to get me pumped. Right now, it’s playing ‘Master of Puppets’ by Metallica. Have you heard that song?”  

Something dark flashes over his face before he awkwardly nods and gets up leaving you alone on the bleachers as you stare after him. 

***

“Are you fucking kidding me?”, you growl as you push on the girl’s locker room door to find it locked. “What is going on with me this semester?”

Glancing around and seeing no one, you brave the boy’s locker room, finding it open, assuming that in his weird state, maybe, Mr. Harrington forgot to lock up. As quickly as you could you showered and began to change into some comfy clothes. 

The sound of something hitting the wall nearby froze you in fear as you gaze scanned the area. 

No one nearby. It could be the janitor cleaning the coach’s office.

Quietly, you threw your things over your shoulder and tiptoed that way with the intention of ducking under the window of the area so you weren’t seen but the muffled sound of moaning had you pausing again. 

“Mmm…Steve…Steven. Wh-What’s wrong, baby? Talk to me.”

“Your student that you talk about…Y/N…she was listening to that song you played in the upside down. I just…it made me think of us…us finding you.”

“Hey. Hey, hey, sweetheart. It’s ok. I’m ok. I’m right here, Steve. You saved me.”

Peeking through the window, you saw their forehead’s pressed together as Eddie gently caressed his cheek with his thumbs. A small sigh left your lips when they began to kiss each other again. With a bit of needy force, Steve turned him around and pulled his back flush to his chest. Gently nibbling on his neck, he reached around and unbuckled Eddie’s pants, pushing them down to free his cock that he promptly began stroking. 

Fuck me he’s big. 

You practically drooled at the sight, licking your lips as your palm absently glided under your shirt to rub your tummy.

With his free hand, Steve sloppily yanked down his sweats making you moan as you watched him spit in his palm and rub it between Eddie’s cheeks before gradually guiding himself into his entrance. 

“Fuck, Steve. That’s it, baby.”

Clinging to each other tightly, Steve thrust his hips at a steady rhythm and you marveled at the sight as your fingers drifted into your own sweatpants and you began circling your clit.

“H-Harder, Steve, please.”

“Please.”, you whisper as you try to keep your eyes open and on them. 

“Like this, honey? Fuck you feel so good, Eddie. I love you.”

Arching his back, your professor craned his neck to kiss the man’s lips as he pumped into him as hard as he could without hurting him. 

“I love you to, baby. Shit, I’m going to cum. Cum with me, Steve.”

Nodding aggressively, he chased their highs until both men grunted and came. While they softly kissed each other your body trembled as you covered your mouth, trying to stifle your moans as the coil snapped. It wasn’t enough as both their heads turned meeting your eyes as you were coming down from cloud 9. 

No one moved as the three of you stared each other. 

Holding up his hands in surrender, Steve pulled out as Eddie straightened up, worry painting both their faces. 

“Y/N…”

Before they could do anything else, you turned and quickly ran out of the locker room.

##############

What the fuck was I thinking?! I shouldn’t have watched them. Two teachers in the MALE locker room while I was touching myself. Shit. I’m going to be expelled for sure. 

Sitting on the stage of your theater class, you focused on the script in front of you as you prepared for an audition your professor recommended. Mrs. Lilah always felt constrained by Hawkins when it came to material but this year she quiet literally said fuck them and decided to do Rocky Horror Picture Show. 

As you read through your lines for Magenta, a clearing throat caught your attention. 

“Hey Eddie!”, your theater teacher beamed as she waved at him and he smiled back before jumping onto the stage to sit beside you. He smelled strongly like cigarettes and a dash of cologne that had your head spinning as you continued to keep your eyes on the paper in front of you. 

“Hey Lilah. I hope I’m not disturbing anything. I just need to talk to Y/N here about an assignment real quick.”

“No problem. She does have her audition for Janet in a few minutes and I’m dying to see her interpretation.”

That caught your attention as your head swiveled her way. 

“I’m doing what now?”

“For Janet, honey. I think you’d be perfect. She’s a bit timid at first but comes out of her shell.”

“But…but…she’s in a bra for a good chunk of the play.”

“Yeah…does that make you uncomfortable?”

“Hm, yeah, Y/N, does people seeing your body in the shadows in an intimate way make you uncomfortable?”, Eddie murmured low enough so only you could hear. 

“Let’s just do the audition and if you prove me right, we can talk about the wardrobe, ok?”

Flashing her a timid smile, you turn to give your attention to your professor. 

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? Skipping my class this morning? Oh, you mean when you watched me and my boyfriend have sex in the boy’s locker room?”

“The girl’s one was locked and I needed to shower—”

“That explains why you were in the locker room but not why you were there watching. Are you going to run and tell all your little friends about how you saw the murderous freak fucking the pretty, rich football coach?”

“What? No. I would never—”

“Mhmm. Look how much will it take to keep your mouth shut?”

“Nothing. I don’t—”

“Please, Y/N! Everyone has a price and Steve doesn’t deserve to lose all he’s worked hard for. So, tell me—”

“Will you let me talk!?” Glancing around to make sure no one heard your outburst; you lower your voice as you continue. “I don’t want anything or any money. I won’t tell anyone. I genuinely don’t care about your private lives. I’m really sorry I watched. I shouldn’t have…I just…”

Your professor’s eyes focused intently on you as he waited for you to continue. 

“I was attracted. The way you two kiss and the way he holds you…no one’s ever been that way with me…” When your eyes dared to finally meet his, you expected anger but those gorgeous chocolate irises displayed a softness you appreciated. “I swear, Mr. Munson, I won’t tell anyone. Your secret is safe with me.”

Nodding, he jumped down from the stage before turning to face you again. 

“I think under the circumstances you can call me Eddie. Not in class but… I also think you should play Janet. You’re a very beautiful young lady. Don’t let any of these superficial idiots take away that lead role from you just because of how you look.”

#############

A couple of weeks had passed and nothing of note happened with school or your classes. You were cast as Janet, allowing Eddie’s advice to drive you as you maneuvered the role. Your professor and Coach Harrington had minimal contact with you but you always felt their eyes following you around. 

Tonight, you were studying in the Hawkins diner off campus. You preferred it here then the library after hours because not only could you munch on some delicious food but no one was usually there that you knew. 

As the bell above the door dinged, you glanced up from the novel Eddie had you guys reading to see said professor and his boyfriend entering the establishment and taking a seat. You couldn’t help but wonder how hard being out like this must be for them. They couldn’t share a booth or be flirty. They couldn’t hold hands or kiss, at least not visibly where people could see. You hated that for them since both seemed like good men. You wondered why they stayed behind here in this terrible little conservative town instead of moving anywhere else. 

Hoping to slip out unnoticed and allow them privacy this time, you gathered your things and placed some money on the table. 

“Is that my favorite piggy?”

You roll your eyes at the sound of Martin’s voice as you try to ignore him and head out the door. A hand abruptly grabs you but you slap it away. 

“Don’t touch me.”, you hiss. 

“Oh, come on, Y/N. It’s Saturday and we just left an awesome party. Can’t you and I get along for once?!” His friends around the table behind him snickered as a big devilish smile stretched across his face. 

“If you weren’t such a fucking dick maybe. Now leave me alone.”

As you storm out the front door to your car, something tugs your backpack, ripping it open as all your books and papers tumble to floor. Martin’s hand wraps around your throat and pushes you against the trunk of your car. 

“You will show some fucking respect especially in front of my friends.”

“Aw, did little Martin get his feelings hurt?”, you sass. “Didn’t realize you had any.” 

Your knee rises as you hit him in his stomach but he’s still faster as his palm reaches out to grab your shirt tugging you down hard onto the pavement.

Abruptly, someone grabs his own jacket collar and tosses him roughly away from you as Eddie quickly maneuvers around them both, kneeling to your level. 

“Are you ok, sweetheart? Can you stand?” Silently nodding, you take the hand he offers to you and rise to your feet. He notices immediately that your blouse is torn and without hesitation shimmies out of his leather jacket and places it around your shoulders. 

“Mr. Click, on Monday, you will see me in my office.”, Coach Harrington growled as he glared at the boy. 

“Oh, fuck you! That fat little whore pushed me into it!”

“HEY!”, he bellowed making you jump as your teacher rubbed your shoulders comfortingly. “I would advise you to stop speaking. You’re already in a lot of trouble.”

“Pfft, you think I’m scared of you, Steve Harrington?! Yeah, my parents told me all about you and the disappointment you became to Hawkins. You’re fucking pathetic! I’m surprised they even hired you to coach us let alone your friend the freak! I guess those satanic rituals DO fucking work.”

The man’s body language stiffened before he did that controlled chuckle you had heard before. 

“Alright, Martin, we can do this right now then. I was only going to suspend you but you know, since I’m so fucking pathetic I think I’ll just go all in. You’re off my team.”

“WHAT?!”

Turning around, he ignored the boy’s continued expletives as he faced you both. 

“Eddie, get her books and all her things. We’ll take her back to our house, if that’s ok with you.”, he asked pointedly in your direction. All you could do was nod and try to bend down to get your thing but the metalhead stopped you before descending to the concrete to collect your things. 

“YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME! YOU’LL REGRET THIS!”

“Take it up with the dean. Until then on Monday, I want your shit out of my locker room or else I will throw it in the garbage. Come on, guys.”

Coach Harrington opened the back seat door for you, startling you when he closed the door a bit too hard. 

***

When they parked outside of a home, neither moved as Eddie’s eyes scanned over his partner’s face.

“You ok, babe?”

His ringed fingers reached out to caress through his hair and in the rearview mirror you could see Steve close his eyes as he exhaled. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s get inside.”, he answered curtly as he came around and opened your door and you followed both men inside. You stood in their living room silently as they threw their keys down and Eddie disappeared down a hallway. 

When he came back, he handed you a t-shirt that read “Def Leopard: Tour of 88!”

“Go put this on and we can see about fixing your own.”

His eyes followed you as you entered their bedroom where the bathroom was located and shut the door. Removing your blouse, you could see a slight bruise forming where the strap of your backpack had been on your shoulder and some redness around your neck where Martin had grabbed you. Swallowing your pain at the sight, you put on the shirt they provided and folded his jacket, placing it nicely on the countertop.

Your eyes took in their fairly average bathroom, smirking slightly at the hair gel you imagined was Steve’s as Eddie’s hair was always wild even during class when he pulled it back. Both their colognes and bathroom products were side by side like any couples but the few things you knew about them had each personality standing out. Cigarettes were by the window near the bathtub where you imagined Eddie smoked as they took a bath together. On the floor by the shower, were some handheld barbells you imagined Steve used while Eddie took a shower or got ready so they could talk to each other about their days. 

Walking back out to their bedroom, you noticed a guitar against the wall and grinned at its slightly cheesy 80s aesthetic. You remembered once hearing that Eddie Munson used to be in a band but for the life of you couldn’t remember the name. You wondered if he still played. 

“Your student that you talk about…Y/N…she was listening to that song you played in the upside down. I just…it made me think of us…us finding you.”

What could he have meant by that…

Your gaze shifted to their dresser that had a vanity mirror attached with pictures taped to it. There were so many images of them together that made your smile widen but there were also photos of Steve with a young lady you remember seeing around Hawkins. She used to work at Family Video until a few years ago but you weren’t sure where she moved on to from there. Did you remember Steve there? No… you were pretty young though and focused on your own carefree life. 

There were pictures of Eddie with the Hellfire club. They were still active when you went to Hawkins High filled with a cool group of kids you hung out with from time to time. There were whispers of the man that created it but everyone in the club always said good things about the former Dungeon Master. 

They must have been in two different worlds in high school. 

What must have happened to bring them together?

“Steven, you need to calm down.”

The sound of Eddie’s voice caught your attention after something loud slammed in the kitchen. You tiptoed down their hallway and paused on the other side of the wall. 

“Fucking asshole kid, I swear to God.”

“Baby, it’s not the first time someone has said those things to us and it won’t be the last especially since we chose to stay here.”

“We didn’t exactly choose and that’s not why I’m upset.”

“Why then?”

“She…she seems like a nice girl.”

“She IS a nice girl.” Eddie sighs as he lowers his voice. “Steven, she’s a student and a lot younger than us.”

“Not a lot. Jesus, you make us sound ancient. She’s, what, how old you were when you graduated high school.”

“Hey, ok first off, rude.” They both giggle making you grin. “Second, again, she’s a student. She’s MY student. I could get in way more trouble than you.”

“Like that’s ever stopped you.”

“I swear, sweetheart, don’t we have enough chaos fucking hiding our relationship?”

“Oh, come on, Ed, you don’t like her?”

“I didn’t say that. I just… yeah, she’s beautiful and adorable and… fuck. We shouldn’t talk about this with her here.”

Collecting your bearings, you walk around the wall and knock on it lightly.

“Hey, there she is. I, uh, I fixed your backpack. Let me, um, see if I can salvage this top for you here.”, Eddie smiles as he takes it from your hands and heads for their couch. 

“I didn’t know you could sew.”

“Mhmm. I can’t like whip up a brand new outfit or anything but I can patch things together.”

“Are you alright? Do you need any Band-Aids or an ice pack?”, Steve asks from his place by the counter. 

“No, I’m ok. My throat is a bit sore but…” You don’t even finish your sentence before he’s turning around and grabbing an ice pack from the freezer, wrapping it in a rag, and sitting in front of you on their coffee table to place it on your neck. “Thank you. I like being choked but not like that or by that asshole.”

They both glance at each other as you blush. 

“Yeah, probably not a joke to make right now. Sorry.”

“You apologize a lot.”, Eddie says from behind you. 

“Sorry.” They laugh making you grin to yourself as you look down at your feet. “I hope I didn’t get you in trouble. I’m not…actively…trying to do that.”

“Oh, no worries, honey. Trust me. What is he going to say? ‘Coach Harrington kicked me off the team after I drunkenly assaulted a girl?’ I’m pretty sure the dean will side with me on that one.”

Your silence makes them nervous and they exchange another look. 

“What are you thinking about, Y/N?”

“I’m thinking about how I never expected Martin to do what he did. He’s been mean to me since freshman year but never aggressive like that.”

“You know that wasn’t your fault, right, princess?”

“Yeah, I know. I…I…” Unable to control them, the tears began to flow and a ring laced hand delicately reached for your shoulder, moving the things in his lap aside so he could hold you to his chest. Steve placed his own palm on your jeaned thigh and comfortingly rubbed against the material. 

Once again you were engulfed in the scent of Eddie’s cigarettes and cologne as his cheek rested on the top of your head. You couldn’t explain why but you felt safe here with their hands on you encased between them. 

It had been a few months since your last relationship and you could feel yourself dropping into that particular headspace the longer they comforted you. 

“I’m…I’m also thinking…about what I saw that night…in the locker room. How you two took care of each other…”

All movement on your body ceased as they even held their breathes. 

“H-How about we get you home, Y/N? I can give you this shirt after our next class.”

Eddie lightly pushed you to the side as he tried to stand but you hastily grabbed his arm stopping him. 

“I heard you. You said I was beautiful and sweet.”

As your little voice flowed through his ears, his eyes squeezed shut trying to keep control. 

“Y/N, maybe, he’s right. Maybe, we should get you home before—”

“Before what, Steve?” This was the first time you were using his name out loud and the notion sent tingles all through your body feeling like a little girl who misbehaved.

“Hey. You show him respect, little girl. That’s Mr. Harrington or sir.”, Eddie scolded in gruff tone.

“Edward…”

“No, Steven. Little girl wants to play with the grownups, then that’s how we will treat her. Now, we said, you’re going home. Grab your things and head towards the front door.”

“Why did you bring me back here, Mr. Munson? You could have taken me back to my dorm but you didn’t. Why?”

“Because people shouldn’t be seeing a professor drop off a student on campus.”

“But Steve said he was taking me to your house out loud to Martin.”

The man’s hand firmly came down on the side of your thigh making you yelp as you bit your bottom lip. 

“He said show me respect.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Harrington.” Placing your hand on top of his, your thumb tenderly ran along his skin as you leaned against Eddie’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mr. Munson. Like I said…no one has ever taken care of me or looked out for me the way you two do with each other.”

You were slightly surprised when his fingers gently came around and brushed your hair away from your face. 

“We brought you back here because we thought you were safer with us here. After what he did, we thought that’s what you needed.”

“Am I not safe here?”, you whisper as you can’t help but rub your thighs together. 

“Y/N… Eddie and I have been through a lot. What you saw in my office isn’t always how we are when we’re intimate. We’re not always…soft.”

“But I promise you, princess, we are nothing like Martin. If you wanted to leave…right now…that’s ok. We can take you home or call you a cab if that makes you more comfortable.”

He was giving you an out; they both were. You could leave right now and the three of you could pretend this never happened. You could pretend that Steve’s large hand on your upper thigh wasn’t turning you on as you thought about how those long fingers would feel inside of you. You could pretend that Eddie’s touch wasn’t getting progressively slower as the pads of his own fingers traced your cheek making your pussy clench around nothing. You could pretend the notion of doing something you shouldn’t and being at the mercy of these two men’s wills didn’t drive you crazy. You could do that… 

Or…

“I don’t mind it not being soft, Mr. Harrington. I trust you and Mr. Munson.” Both men exchanged on final look of caution before your last sentence pushed caution to the wind. “Please, I need you.”

“I think since you saw us in vulnerable position we should get the same courtesy.”, Steve replied in a much huskier tone than before. Taking your hands in his, he pulled you to your feet and pushed the coffee table out of the way before taking the seat you had just been in. On impulse, Eddie leaned closer to him as the other boy wrapped his arm around his shoulder. 

“Go ahead, Y/N.”

As your eyes shifted between their heavy gazes, you lifted off the shirt he gave you, unbuttoned your pants, and shimmied them a bit clumsily down your legs.

You stood there waiting for more instruction as they continued to stare at your body. 

“Did you see our cocks?”

“Yes.”

Steve smirked as his boyfriend began to kiss his neck while his palm traveled along his chest down his stomach.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Remember that, Y/N. I don’t like repeating myself and Eddie is a lot nicer than I am in here.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Harrington.”

Steve’s eyes fluttered when the metalhead’s palm grazed the bulge in his jeans. 

“Now, if you saw or cocks, then why are you stopping?”

“You said…I should be vulnerable, sir.”

Your small voice had them groaning as Eddie fumbled with the pretty boy’s belt almost desperately. 

“Fuck. Don’t move.” He commanded towards you as his head turned to capture his boyfriend’s lips. Lifting his hips, he helped Eddie blindly pull his jeans down just enough to free his length. As he started to lean over his lap, Steve hastily stopped him with a smile. “You don’t want to see her, honey?”

He chuckled as he focused his attention back on you. 

“Do you feel vulnerable, Y/N?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Hm. Not enough to not finger yourself out in the open though, huh? I mean at least you had pants on.”

“I-I-I wasn’t…I wasn’t thinking—”

“No, you weren’t. Take off the rest so we can see you.”

While doing what he said, you watched as Steve pushed down Eddie’s pants as well and both men kissed passionately in front of you as they stroked each other’s cocks. 

“Y/N, is there anything we should know? Anything we should avoid?”

“No, Mr. Munson.”, you answered, appreciating his soft tone as he asked his series of questions. 

“You said you liked being choked but is there anything physical we shouldn’t do?”, Eddie groaned out as Steve lifted off his shirt.

You heard his question but couldn’t form an answer as your eyes starred at the scars that littered his chest. They looked like whatever wound created them was deep, possibly life threatening. What could have happened to him?

“HEY!”, he barked making you jump. “He said he’s not as nice as me but that doesn’t mean I’m easy going! Now, answer the fucking question, little girl.”

“I’m sorry, sir. N-No, I don’t mind being hit or p-punished. Mr. Munson, what happened?”

As you started to step forward, both sets of brown eyes glared your way freezing you in place.

“Do you know the stop light system?”, Steve growled in a much rougher tone than you were prepared for. Nodding curtly after reciting it to them, he got up and grabbed your arm, sitting you between them. “Now, we do have some rules, Y/N. The first rule is the most important. DON’T ask about our scars.”

“Our?”

Steve slowly lifted off his own shirt and tossed it to the side. He didn’t have as many scars as Eddie but they were just as deep and looked similar. Whatever happened must have happened to both of them. 

“I’m so sorry you both went through…whatever hurt you.”, you coo as you reach out to graze your fingers down Eddie’s chest. 

The darkness in their eyes faltered slightly at your sincerity and the metalhead took your hand in his, tenderly kissing the back of it. 

“Second rule. You have to be vocal, Y/N. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, we need you to say red ok?”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Munson. “

“Good. Good girl.”

His praise made you giddy as you blush making him smile.

“Can I kiss you?”

“I have one more question, princess. Have you ever done anything like this before?”

“Yes and no.”

“Yeah, we’re going to need you to clarify that.”, Steve laughs. 

“I’ve done rough stuff with dominate partners before. I’ve never been with two men before.”

The way you said the word men had Eddie’s eyebrow quirking upward. 

“Are you trying to tell us you’ve only been with boys your age?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Why did you feel the need to tell us that?”

“Do we make you nervous?”, Steve asks as his fingers dance up your arm. 

“Yes b-but not because of you two, Mr. Harrington. I just wanted you to know j-just in case I’m not as ‘experienced’ as you both.”

Eddie’s palms cupped your cheeks as he brought your lips to his. You weren’t surprised by the nicotine that lingered there but you were by the tingle that ran through your body as his tongue caressed your own. When he pulled away you tried to lean forward for more but his grip held firm. 

“We weren’t expecting you to be, pretty girl. You’ve only ever been with these little boys but you’re about to be fucked by real men, sweetheart. Trust us, we know how to take care of you.”

You moaned at his promise, turning towards Steve to crash your lips with his. He was a much more determined kisser, his mouth and tongue sending that same shock wave through to your core. 

“Have you ever sucked a cock as big as mine?”, he panted against your lips.

As you shake your head, his fingers grab your throat just below your jaw as if purposely avoiding where Martin had hurt you. 

“What did I say? How do you answer us?”

“I’m sorry. No, sir, I’ve never sucked a dick as big as either of you.”

Sitting back, his palm moved to the back of your neck, guiding you down over his leaking tip as Eddie adjusted your body till you were on all fours for them. 

“Fuck me, Steve. She is so fucking wet. Her pussy is just tripping down her thighs.”

“Aw, you like being a bad girl, don’t you, honey?”

“Y-yes, Mr. Harrington. I like being a bad girl.”

“Open your mouth.” Doing as he directed, you quickly kissed his slit making him mewl before fully taking him between your awaiting lips. “Yes, oh my god. T-That’s a good girl.”

Eddie’s fingers glided through your folds causing your eyes to roll as you bobbed your head.

“Steve, baby, Jesus, she’s so fucking tight.”, the metalhead groaned as his palm came down hard on your ass. 

“Yeah, Y/N? Did that feel good? You like when your professor spanks you?”

Yanking your hair roughly he tugs you off of him as you continue to stroke him with your hand. 

“I didn’t hear that, little girl. What did you say?”

“Y-Yes, sir, I like when Mr. Munson spanks me.” 

At your response he spanks you again right as he guides two of his digits into your core. Gripping you tighter, Steve forces your mouth on him again and holds you still as he thrusts his hips allowing his cock to hit the back of your throat. 

“Good girl. That’s it, Y/N. Keep your throat open for me.”

Abruptly, Eddie swats his boyfriend’s hand and tugs on your shoulder, guiding you down the hallway to their bedroom and tossing you onto their bed. After completely removing the rest of his clothes, he climbs between your legs and runs his wide, flat tongue through your pussy up to your clit. 

“Oh shit.”, you moan as your back arches into the feeling before yelping when his palm smacks your cunt. 

“Watch your mouth, little girl.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I’m sorry.”

Steve chuckles as he climbs in beside you both placing his knees by your head as his fingers grip your hair again. 

“Can’t really blame her. I know how amazing your tongue feels. Then again, you may have some competition, babe, because her fucking mouth feels so good.”

Pride washes over you at his praise as you grip his cock and take him as far back as you can trying to continue to please him. 

“I-It’s ok, honey. We can train this little throat. As—fuck—as you know, Eddie’s a wonderful teacher.” His boyfriend tosses him a smirk as his tongue flicks faster against your bud. “Are you going to cum? Cum, Y/N. Cum all over his face.”

Your hips grinded against him as the man’s mouth wrapped around your bundle of nerves and he pushed two of his fingers rapidly inside of you as the sound of your arousal to fill the room. 

Steve backed away from you, allowing you to focus and breathe as your orgasm washed over you. As you came down from your high, Eddie lightly slapped between your legs making you jump and groan. 

“Sensitive. I like that.”

Tilting towards their bedside table, he paused as their eyes met. 

“Shit. I don’t have any condoms.”

“What?”, Steve almost wined as you tried to contain your smile at their desperate need for you.

“Steve, we’ve been together for almost 10 years. When was the last time we used a fucking condom?”, Eddie growled. 

“We’ve been talking about adding someone to our dynamic for a while now.”

“Yeah but I wasn’t prepared for it to be tonight with a fucking student!”

“Excuse me.”, you finally pipe up. “I’m on the pill. I can understand if you still don’t want to but…I’m safe. And like I said, I trust you.”

Both men exchange a glance and you can’t help but giggle up at them. 

“So how long were you going to wait before you said anything, huh?”

“Mr. Munson, you didn’t ask. I wanted to be a good girl and only speak when spoken to.”

They narrow their eyes playfully at you for a moment before Eddie grabs your jaw and tilts you till your face is level with his. 

“You’re not cute, little girl. That little snarky attitude may have worked on those pathetic boys you were with but you’re in the bed of real men now. Don’t hide things from us you think we should know. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-Yes, sir. I’m—”

Steve’s hand cuts you off as he pushes you back against the mattress. 

“We know. You’re sorry.”

Taking hold of his shaft, Eddie taps himself against your pussy making you squirm as you open your legs wider for him. Grabbing your hips, he slides you closer and gradually guides himself into your dripping entrance.

“Fuuuuuck.”, he moaned as he slowly pumped his hips. “We are going to fucking ruin you for anyone else, little girl. Goddamn.”

“How does she feel, baby?”, Steve asks as he leaned towards him to lightly kiss his neck.

“S-So fucking tight, sweetheart, you have no idea. I want…”

“What do you want, Ed?”

“I wanna…fuck her into the fucking mattress.”

Your pussy fluttered around him at his words and his eyes that been closed shot open as he placed his palms on either side of you and started thrusting into you aggressively.

“You want that, you little whore. I can give that to you.”

Much softer than his partner, Steve turned your head and slide his cock back into your mouth that you eagerly sucked on relishing the taste of him. As he pounded into you, Eddie’s lips kissed along his boyfriend’s chest making the man groan louder as he ran his fingers through his hair. 

Bringing his lips to his own they passionately exchanged a kiss that had you mewling as the long-haired man rolled his hips hard hitting that soft spot inside you repeatedly. 

Eddie’s head tilted back as his jaw went slack and you couldn’t help but reach your hands up to run your nails down your chest. 

“I’m…I’m…please…”

Steve moved back as the metalhead grabbed your wrists and held them against the bed as his face fell beside your own. 

“You fucking ask me, Y/N. You beg us to let you cum. Shit. We have control in here.”, he whispers in your ear making your shudder underneath him. 

“P-Please, Mr. Munson. Can I cum? I want to cum on your cock, please.”

His hair tickles your face as he nods and the action of him tenderly kissing your cheek pushes you over the edge as the coil snaps. 

“Fuck, that’s it, pretty girl. Came so fucking hard on my dick. I’m going to fill you up, princess, ok?”

“Please…”, you whimper as he slams into you, chasing his high.

Your professor’s grunts filled your ear and you turned your head into the sound as he warmed your insides. As soon as he rolled off you, a hand took hold of your ankle and yanked you to the edge the bed. 

“Hey, hey, honey. No, no.”, Steve cooed with a hint of sarcasm as he lightly slapped your cheek. “Open your eyes, baby. What color are you at, Y/N?”

“Green.”

His massive palm slapped you a bit harder causing your eyes to fully open as you leaned up on your elbows. 

“Green, what?”

“Green, SIR!”

You’re suddenly turned on to your stomach as rough hands lift your ass in the air while another set takes hold of your wrists and pulls your top half down and forward. 

“Get rid of the attitude, Y/N. You think just because you came you’re allowed to be disrespectful?”, Eddie growls as Steve spanks your behind. “Now, answer him clearly without the tone.”

“Green, Mr. Harrington.”

As he ran his tip through your folds, you knew even after taking his partner, he was going to split you in half. 

“Fuck me.”, Steve moaned as he began pushing himself into you. 

Eddie’s head tilted to the side as he watched your face scrunch together. 

“You’re alright, sweetheart. Trust me, I know how hard he can be to take at first but it will feel good soon. I promise, baby.”, he soothed and kissed your lips. 

“F-Feels…feels good…now. Fuck.”

The man behind you smacks your ass at the curse, pressing further into your cunt till his hips finally connected with yours. 

“Still green, babe?”

“Yeeeees, sir.”

“Good.” Clinging to your waist, Steve pulled back till he was almost all the way out of pussy before roughly slamming back into you practically punching the air from your lungs.

“Oh my god!”

With a slanted smile, he pounded into you as Eddie watched from the side, sitting up on his knees to occasionally run his fingers down the man’s chest. 

“She feels really fucking good, right? Our young, new little toy.”

“Goddamn, I’m gonna fucking bust like a teenager.”

“Wait, pretty boy. You need to feel her cum. Her pussy fucking chokes your dick, I swear.”

“Fuck, Y/N, are you close, little girl?” When you didn’t answer, his hand reached around to grab you throat and lift your back to his chest. “Still coherent, you little slut? I asked you a question.”

“H-Harder, Mr. Harrington, please.”

As his forehead landed on your shoulder, he did what you asked till the bed began to jostle underneath you. A jolt of electricity shot through your body and you mewled as Eddie rubbed circles into your clit. 

You took their conversation as approval and your arm circle around Steve’s neck as you came. 

“Jesus fucking Christ!”, he grunted as he took hold of your chin and turned you so his lips could mingle with yours as he pumped into you a few more times before releasing his seed inside you. 

You were completely drained and slightly sore as he tried to delicately pullout of you while you waited for what to do next. Usually, the boys you were with did the minimal amount of aftercare, choosing to just cuddle with you which was fine. You were surprised, however, when Eddie informed you the bath was ready when you were. 

“For me?”

“Yeah, princess, come on. It will soothe your muscles.”, he murmured softly as he took your forearm and slowly walked you to the bathtub and guided you in. Your head remained lowered as you listened to him maneuver around the bathroom, sliding on some boxers before lighting a cigarette and placing himself on his knees beside you. 

Utilizing the washcloth, he cleaned you pausing when your hand suddenly grabbed his wrist as he attempted to clean between your legs. 

“I’m sorry. Just sore.”, you whispered as you let him go. 

Eddie’s eyes scanned you over and you heard him blow out some smoke from his lips as he put the cigarette down in a nearby ashtray. His fingers moved some of your hair back and he pressed his nose into your cheek while he continued to clean you. 

“It’s ok, sweetheart. You’re still doing really good for me. I know your little pussy hurts from how we stretched her open but we got you, pretty girl. You took us both so well.”

As his deep, comforting tone continued to whisper praises, you keened into the sound as you winced, trying not to grab him again.

“I know, I know. I’m almost done.”

Tilting your head, your lips found his, both of you getting lost in the feeling as he dropped the rag from his hand so he could cup your face and hold you closer. A throat clearing distracted you two as Steve entered the bathroom. 

“I, uh, I have some clothes for you here, Y/N, whenever you’re ready.”

Nodding, you allow Eddie to help you out and lead you in front of his partner who took a seat on the edge of the bed. His honey irises ran along your body, checking for extra care you may need that they inflicted but unlike your assault earlier the only mark they left was the slight reddening of their handprints on your behind. 

“How’s your throat? I tried not to grab you where—”

Your kisses startled him at first but after a few seconds his hand slithered tenderly behind your neck as he kissed you back. 

“I’m ok. Just sore…and tired.”, you reiterate as your heavy eye lids dropped. 

“Ok, honey.” Steve’s hands held you steady while Eddie dressed you in what smelled like their clothes as you swayed in his grasp. “You did so good for us. You deserve some sleep. Would you like me to carry you to the guest bedro—”

Both men watched with amusement as your shook your head before climbing over him and crawling under their covers. 

“I guess we can sleep in the—”

“Please don’t leave.”, you begged in a little girl voice that pierced their hearts. 

“Why does she keep interrupting me?”, Steve chuckles as he gets to his feet and yanks Eddie into his arms to kiss his lips. “She doesn’t do that with you. Or does she in class?”

At the word the metalhead became silent as he kissed his partner’s shoulder and crawled into the bed in front of you. His palm softly caressed your face and through your hair as Steve got in bed behind you.

“You’re worried.”

“Of course, I am and not just because she’s a student. That’s just the frosting on top of the cake that is our problem.”

“That sounds delicious.”

“Steven.”, Eddie scolds as they both smile. “She’s so much younger than we are.”

“10 years. Not much.”

“Not to mention the fact, that we are already hiding OUR relationship let alone another with a young, student. She deserves to be taken on dates and to live her life. She deserves to be seen not hidden.”

“So do you, honey.”

“Steve… we decided a long time ago to stay in Hawkins for a reason. We can’t be run out of town by these homophobic small, minded idiots. They’ve just barely started calming down when it comes to me and what happened in 86. And that’s another thing. What if…what if something happens? What if Vecna comes back or any other fucking monster? We can’t drag her into that.”

“Eddie, you’re over thinking again, but I see where you are coming from. Let’s…let’s take it one day at a time, ok? Who knows. She may wake up and decide this is all too much herself. She may not want to be with some…old, broken-down college professors slash coach.”

“Oh my god, baby.”, the long-haired boy chuckles as he throws his arm over his eyes. “You’re not broke down. We just have some wear and tear.”

Your palm reaching out and pulling Eddie closer as you fully folded into Steve silenced them. They relaxed into you as your professor kissed your forehead and your school’s coached nuzzled into your shoulder as they drifted off to sleep with you. 

##############

@corkadymu @lilaclazer @aol19 @nailbatanddungeon

[lieslab]

Oranges to orange juice

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Hyunjin X gn reader

Summary: Disordered eating is hard and when Hyunjin overhears you throwing up in the bathroom, he snaps.

Genre: Angst & comfort/hurt

Word Count: 2.8K

Trigger warning: Disordered eating, binging, purging, starving, mentions of vomiting, over-exercising, calorie counting, and a binge eating episode.

A/N: Requestee, I can't lie to you, every time I sat down to write this, I couldn't find the words because this hits a little too close to home. This was one of the hardest things that I've ever had to force myself to write. I tried to make it angsty, but it also felt entirely wrong to do that, so I gave it a happier ending. I hope you like it <3

_ _ _

How did it go so wrong? When did food start to become the enemy? When did substance become poison? How did something, supposed to fill and nurture you, start to craft more evil in your brain than anything else? When did the line between harm and health become blurred? 

Over consumption. Starvation. Fall into a binge cycle and purge it back up. Calories in and calories out. Walking around the same path in your neighborhood over and over and over again. These days more hair seems to slip through your fingers. The brown bags beneath your eyes protruded. When was the last time you didn’t feel like a walking zombie? 

Caught like a skipping record, you were repeating the toxic cycle. You knew you were damaging yourself, but you didn’t care. Your weight was yo-yoing and you were losing sleep over it. Just one more quick pinterest workout. Skip another meal. Feel so proud for starving yourself all day and then falling victim to an evening binge. 

Like a tilt-a-whirl with no seatbelts, just when you thought the ride would stop, your brain would speak, and you’d be thrown hard into the sides of your skull again. Your body was begging for you to stop. The eye bags. The exhaustion. The chills. The scrapes on your knuckles and yellowed teeth. Your brain begged for an ounce of love, but you had none to give. 

Had it happened in elementary school? Some kids threw cruel words your way. Were you a bit older? Still growing into your body as a preteen when someone said something and your brain clung to the words like glue. Were you in high school when you dived headfirst to the toxic culture of strict dieting? 

The celebrities, the idols, the magazines in the early 2000’s calling people fat right at eye-level in the grocery store. When back to school trips and trying on clothes felt more like a chore more than anything. Glossy tears slipping beneath the fluorescent lights as you twisted and turned and pulled and pinched your skin wishing your body looked different. 

Every sweet taste of a cupcake felt like gaining ten pounds. The richness of the icing. The dense cake that you knew would go directly to your gut, so you swapped it for an apple, but then the latest trends began to discuss how bad natural sugar was for you, so you skipped fruit altogether. 

Hyunjin has always been your pride and joy for quite a while. Dating him felt like winning the lottery and it came with a lot of triumphs, but also a lot of stipulations. You couldn’t be ugly when dating an idol, let alone, a Versace ambassador. So yes, you won, but at what cost? 

Eating disorders are ugly things. People tended to romanticize them, but there was nothing pretty about scraped knuckles. Sticking fingers down your throat and eventually losing your gag reflex because you kept throwing up your food. The sense of victory and impending relief you felt when nothing could come up anymore. 

The feeling of ice water on an empty stomach is addicting. Waking up without being bloated. The empty feeling that lingers as you reject food. You can’t help, but feel proud of yourself, but the opposite is true when you binge. You promise yourself you’ll stop, but soon you’re deep in three-thousand calories and all you can think about is which body part will bulge next. 

The broken capillaries in your eyes from forcing the retching. The aching knuckles that pain shoots through every time you bend them. The puffy cheeks, the hair loss, the naked weigh-ins. Waking up every morning or getting beneath the stream at night and taking a cold shower because it burnt more calories. There was nothing pretty about eating disorders. 

They always have the potential to catch up and yours did. Hyunjin was teaching you in the dance room. He was teaching you the counts of the dance that you wanted to learn when you suddenly collapsed. He barely got to you in time before you slammed the floor. 

When you awoke a few moments later, he pushed applesauce and a plastic spoon towards you. A bottle of water followed as he worried that your blood sugar was low. You glanced at the applesauce, already knowing how many calories were in it, and you refused it. 

He didn’t understand it at first, but then it clicked. He didn’t know when the last time you ate food was. You were always insisting you already ate. Always pushing aside snacks and insisting you were full from lunch, but when was the last time he saw you eat lunch? 

His suspicions were confirmed when he offered to take you out to dinner. You tried to hide the panic, but it was obvious. When he confronted you about your unhealthy habits, you nearly burst into tears on the spot and he swore he’d help you, but the truth was so much more complex. 

Sometimes you don’t have the power to save people from their inner demons. As much as people would like to play god, sometimes a person has to be willing to take the plunge. They have to be willing to work on themselves from within. Find the root of the problems, nurture that hurt, begin to slowly rebuild themselves up instead of down. 

And the truth? You were not ready. The truth is that eating disorders are addictive. There’s a certain kind of twisted competitiveness. When you go hours without eating and those hours slip from twelve to twenty-four and suddenly you’re at forty-eight hours without food. A toxic and warped pride becomes rooted inside and burrows around the roots of your brain. You might have had downfalls, but at least you could starve…until you binged again. 

A seesaw without a winner. The constant up and down. Taking the plunge and soaring up high. The cycle became exhausting after a while, but addictions aren’t easily overcome. There’s always more than meets the eye. 

Hyunjin tried his best to keep his tabs on you. Despite his busy schedule, he had been planning out healthy meals for the two of you. Every time he wanted you to help him cook, your brain screamed at you to stop. Every bite was another pound. You were torn between healing and gaining weight. For a few days, it was okay, but then you broke. 

Outside the bathroom door, Hyunjin was silently listening to you heave up the contents of your stomach. He knew you were up to something when you didn’t return quickly from the bathroom. You swore it wouldn’t take that long, but you lied. 

He hated that he couldn’t understand. He hated that he didn’t know why you were like this. In his head, food was a need, it wasn’t something you could just turn away from. Knowing that he spent all of last night prepping this stuff made it ten times worse. He spent so much time making it perfect and you were unloading your food into the toilet. 

He sighed and shook his head while thinking about it. He couldn’t help you if you didn’t try to help yourself. His arms went over his chest and he found his socked foot tapping the beige carpeted floor. With a clenched jaw, he waited for you to reappear. 

It took a few minutes before you finally reappeared while wiping away remnants of tears. You only took a step when a throat cleared and you were staring into the narrowed eyes of Hyunjin. “Are you done throwing up the meal I spent hours on?” He couldn’t help, but feel annoyed by your actions. 

“I’m sorry, it didn’t agree with my stomach.” The lie slid through your teeth so easily. First it was one lie and then the next. You already ate. Snacks were already consumed. Of course, you were fine. Better than ever. 

“Bullshit!” He spat. “I’m trying to help you and you won’t let me! God, how do you think this makes me feel? It’s disgusting! You have to have food to nourish you, so I’m not sure what doing any of this proves. Did you know stomach acid destroys your teeth?” 

It was a slap to the face. Hurt was in your eyes, but he didn’t stop. The words buzzed straight into the core of your brain and seeped into the shutters of your heart. You were nothing, but a disappointment. 

“I’ve been so busy the past few days and I just wanted one nice meal with my significant other. One nice meal! I even took the time to make homemade pasta and yet you still-” He scoffed and shook his head. “I give up. You know what? Do what you want.” 

Tears began to well in your eyes as he spun around. “W-where are you going?” 

“Away from you. Away from whatever this is. I’m packing up leftovers and taking it to people who’ll actually enjoy it. I can’t believe I learned to cook for you and this is what I get in response.” 

He knew he was being cruel, but he couldn’t help it. He knew eating disorders weren’t easy, but he was so frustrated and terrified for you. He knew you’d disagree when it came to professional help. He couldn’t force you to go, it’ll kill you and he was terrified that you’d never forgive him. 

The last you saw of him was his silhouette storming down the stairs, banging things around, and then the ear-shattering announcement of his disappearance with the door slamming shut. You sniffled and your bottom lip quivered as you headed towards the stairs. 

When you got to the kitchen table, your plate was still there with half-eaten food. Still dressed up in garlic butter, your pasta remained untouched. Your fork still had bits of italian seasoning coating the prongs. The scent of garlic and onion continued to linger in the air. 

The pasta on Hyunjin’s plate had disappeared. The pot that he made it on was missing from the stove. Besides the unrelenting and haunting tick of the clock, it was all still. You were alone with your thoughts, more worrying, you were emotionally stressed. 

When you glanced at the cupboard, your mouth began to salivate with the memory of the glazed donuts you bought earlier. How sweet they’d be on your tongue. A glazed donut followed by something a little more savory, like the trail mix Hyunjin bought you the other day. 

You tried to ignore the pressing thoughts. Stomach acid still stained your teeth. Your brain said no, but your stomach growled at the thought. You emptied the pasta from your stomach, but you were still hungry. The endorphins would spike, your stress would be temporarily relieved before the guilt set in, and so… 

You practically flew across the tile floor in your socks. Flinging open the cupboard door, you found the box of glazed donuts and threw open the lid. The sticky feeling clung to your fingertips, but the taste of sugar was so sweet. Food could be a high that nothing else could compare to. 

You didn’t know how long you spent binging. You scrounged around the cupboards like a rat. Digging through boxes and attempting to find more food. Crackers? You ate some. Some of Hyunjin’s cookies that he promised you could have? You ate those too. 

When you finished, you could already feel the bloating begin. The feeling of your stomach being stretched to its near limits was unbearable. The binge settled and so did the realization of what you just did. 

You sprinted back to the bathroom to make things right. When two fingers weren’t enough to trigger your gag reflex, soon it was replaced with three. Your stomach twisted and heaved. The stomach acid was harsh on your nasal cavity, but you couldn’t help it. 

The cold toilet water mixed with vomit splashed on your face and made you heave more. You choked on chunk after chunk. The crackers scraped harshly into the sides of your throat, but you didn’t care. It all had to get out somehow. 

When you were finished, you forced yourself up, rinsed your mouth out with water, and collapsed on the bed you shared with Hyunjin. There was something trapped inside of you that you just couldn’t seem to stop. How could you defeat your own brain? How did you balance health and harm? 

Good fats, bad fats. Too much sodium. Too much sugar. The unsteady and tipsy feeling of weightlessness with an empty stomach. The heavy and sinking anchor of a full belly. When some people said one thing about food and yet others claimed different, who were you supposed to listen to? 

You didn’t have the knowledge that doctors had or the knowledge of protein and macros and supplements. Food could be so confusing and it could be stressful. How were you ever supposed to see it as something nurturing? Some people said stay away from red meat, some said stay away from fruit, others said only strictly eat fruits, vegetables, and meats. How were you supposed to keep up with it all? 

As your brain spun around in circles, at some point, you managed to fall asleep. When you reawakened, you woke up to a hand on your shoulder. You blinked your bleary eyes, trying to figure out what was happening. 

“Baby?” The familiar voice of Hyunjin filled your ears. His verbal lashing from early reappeared in your sleepy brain. “Can you hear me?” 

“What do you want?” You weakly got out. 

“Get up.” 

“No.” 

You didn’t have a choice as he tugged on your arm and pulled you up. You didn’t fight it as he tugged you into his arms. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said the things I said. I didn’t mean any of it. I really didn’t, I just-” He sniffled. 

“I know,” you mumbled. 

“I’m so afraid for you and I don’t know how to help you. I don’t know how to keep you safe. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. You’re irreplaceable to me.” His arms tightened around you as his chin gently sat on the top of your head. “I never should have taken my frustration out on you.” 

He leaned back against the wooden headboard. You couldn’t stop your own tears from beginning to build up. Your fingers curled into his shirt. The steady wallop of his heartbeat brought you comfort. 

“What do you need from me? How can I help you? What can I do for you?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Baby, please, I need to know what you need.” 

“Help,” you uttered the words that terrified you. “Someone who knows how to fix me. I don’t know how to fix the broken pieces. I-” A sob fell from your lips. 

When was the last time you enjoyed a slice of your own birthday cake without feeling guilty? When did eating feel like enjoyment instead of a punishment? When was the last time you were excited to try a new food without worrying about the calories and sugar content? 

“Just say the words and I will find you someone who can help. I-I can’t help you alone. You have to be willing, baby, please. I need you to try and fight this.” 

“Please.” 

“Please what?” 

“Help.” 

Hyunjin squeezed his eyes shut and clutched you tightly. He didn’t utter it out loud, but a silent prayer of gratitude filled his head. “Promise to try?” You nodded. “Thank you.” His lips pressed against the top of your head. 

He began to slowly rock your body back and forth. Your eyes slipped shut and you let out a soft sigh of relief. You were terrified and yet, there were a few specks of relief. Maybe you really could fight this. Maybe you really could develop a healthier relationship with food. 

Learn to stop tracking calories and working out until you nearly collapse from exhaustion. You needed a hail mary and as much as you tried to do it alone, you always seemed to relapse and make it all worse. It wouldn’t be easy, you knew that, but it was a start. 

It was better than repeating the cycle. It was hard to spread your wings and fly, but you wanted to be better. You wanted to be stronger and healthier. You wanted to be happy and most of all, you wanted to have a long life, long enough to watch your relationship with Hyunjin bloom. 

You wanted to meet people, to travel, to try new foods without feeling the rotten guilt. You wanted to enjoy your birthday cake. To embrace the growing older, live through new experiences, harness the wisdom, and share the love. 

It was terrifying, but the more you thought about it, maybe, just maybe, maybe it was worth it. 

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lina-linny @straykidsstanforeverandever @seungnishi @stellasays45

Masterlist

Taglist, and inbox rules

[pamicakery]

₊✩‧₊˚౨ You're not a THAT GIRL ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Let's have a real talk here, maybe people will disagree but I don't care, I want to be honest with you.

What is wrong with Law of Assumption on tumblr? Like.. You may not have noticed but the mix between LOA x Clean girlish Bad Girl Won-youngish pinkish stuff... We are leaving and distancing ourselves from the real main subject.

NO

Loa is not having a bad bitch mindset who says '' fucks the world I'm gonna rule ''. There is a thin line between arrogance and confidence.

NO

You don't value less than a Bad bitch because you have insecurities or you are scared of your manifestation not gonna happen. Stop shaming people about their '' Victim mindset ''. I know, I talked about that in a previous post. But I will never judge someone because they have it, it's normal to have a victim mindset but you shouldn't dwell in that. You can surpass that.

NO

Waking up at 4 am, doing pilate, buying expensive products, drinking lemon water and eating fruits and yogurt won't give you a better self concept.

And NO

If everyone is THAT GIRL then no one is!

You just want to be like everyone and what about you?

If you want to be pretty, be pretty for yourself.

If you want your SP, they will love you for who you are with your flaws, your personality. I bet you don't want to be loved only for your look right? :(

I am not belittling coquette, pinky girls. But let's not transform the Loa into a '' pretty popular and arrogant girl '' club.

The real glow up is inside, in your mind.

You need to grow from a '' I can't do it '' mindset to '' I can do it '' mindset. This is the real glow up.

There is no '' Better version of yourself ''. There is just one version of yourself and this version evolve.

The better version of yourself is not the version approved by society.

You are worthy, you deserve good things and you can evolve.

You can change your appearance, you can have your celebrity SP, be abundant, healthy.

Life is not True Beauty. You will not glow up physically and everyone will love you. You will be obsess with your appearance, and hide yourself behind diets, work out and when everyone will find out how you look without make up, your world will fall appart because you don't truly love yourself as who you truly are and your insecurities will blow out on your face making you realize that despite everything you don't like yourself.

Where is the confidence when you can't be yourself? For real? Stop thinking that you can't do this because you don't have that fire confidence, if you want to be shy be it, you want to be kind, be kind. Don't lower yourself, and don't look upon anybody because they manifested their dream life.

Be yourself.

I came at a point that, as long as I have myself, I have someone. The only one you should compare yourself is with yourself.

The real glow up, is in your mind. Accept yourself with your flaw and accept that you can change and have a better life, opportunities, love, beauty.

Loving yourself as who you are will be the best success you can achieve.

Macha latte and pink eyes patches won't give you your manifestation and your desire life. It won't.

Persisting and knowing you deserve better will.

Don't limit yourself upon what society call success. You can manifest huge mansion, ton of cars, being a model. I wanted to be that, a model, loved by many. Mostly because I have toxic parents who always criticized me. I'll be honest with you, I cry sometime, asking myself '' where is my desire? '', I am jealous, envious and I ask myself '' What's wrong with me? ''.

I wanted to be a model and be called '' the most beautiful woman in the world '' just to brag about it with my celebrity SP. Thinking that if I become a model, he will notice me.

But you know what?

I want to know my worth, I want to have confidence in my manifesting abilities, be healthy, have friends who love me for who I am, and my Sp accepting me as who I am.

know that you deserve the world no matter who you are.

Just like the gravity works the same for everyone. Don't destroy yourself thinking that you will manifest better, don't downgrade yourself because '' Only the pretty popular girls '' manifest.

The real glow up is accepting that you can have your dream life no matter what.

I want my mindset to be strong, I want it to believe that it can change my life, I want my mindset to know that it is powerful. I want to look into my imagination and be sure at 100% that it's true. I want to be myself, to believe in myself.

Be your own validation & believe in yourself.

[wingsofachampion]

OOC

I'm going to preface this by saying that I'm not mad at anyone. I love the Pokemon IRL community, and I'm so so happy to be a part of it. And I don't plan on leaving for good anytime soon.

But. Look.

This is getting out of hand.

I've been here since November of 2022, and I haven't seen things being this bad in the community since The Incident.

I'm trying as hard as I can to hold things together, even when it seems like everything's falling apart. But it's getting really exhausting.

So that's why I'm making this post.

There's a lot of problems happening in this community, and I'm going to try to address at least a few of them in this post.

So, here we go.

Part 1: Anon Hate & Other Harassment

There's unfortunately a lot of this in the community. I've been a victim of it myself.

Anon hate is a serious problem that has led several pokebloggers to completely disable anon asks or even leave the community entirely.

I'm not sure how to combat this, unfortunately, other than blocking them as they come, but that's an imperfect solution.

There's also been direct harassment, too, not just through anon asks. I'm unsure how to tackle that either, but I'm spreading awareness just in case.

Part 2: Lack of Engagement

There's a ton of blogs that get little to no engagement, and not for a lack of trying. Pixelated made a great post on this already, so I won't rehash it much.

My main advice is to send asks. That goes both ways. If you see someone struggling to get engagement, send them an ask, brighten their day!

And if you're struggling to get engagement, send asks to as many blogs as you feel comfortable. That way, you put your name out there.

I know it can be scary to send asks, but if it helps, you can send one to me! I won't bite!

Part 3: "Cliques"

There's a lot of subcommunities in the Pokemon IRL community. Eebydeebies, Fallers, Blueberry Academy, and so on. And that's great! What's not so great, though, is how some of these can be rather cliquey.

Sometimes, it's hard to join a subcommunity. Sometimes they push you away, are just difficult to fit in a new blog, or something else.

I've been trying to remedy this in the eebydeeby subcommunity by having Gen send asks to every new eeby blog I can find, but I'm not in every subcommunity, so I can't do this for all of them.

What I suggest to remedy this is, those in subcommunities, reach out! If you see someone trying to join, reach out and welcome them in! Send them asks! Tell other people in the subcommunity about them! Let them know that they're welcome there.

Part 4: Lack of Warnings During MMM

This one is something that mostly just affects me personally, but Muse Mixup Madness has been extremely stressful for me because people keep completely changing up their blogs with little to no warning.

One of my worst triggers is post-apocalypse, and I've been jumpscared by this several times during Muse Mixup Madness by blogs that were previously safe.

Please warn what your Muse Mixup Madness stuff will contain, and please use content warnings, too.

Part 5: New Blogs Dying

This is one of the ones I'm saddest about. Almost every day, there's at least one new person trying to join Pokemon IRL, but 75% of the time their blog dies within a week.

I recommend supporting newcomers as much as you can. If you see a newcomer, send them an ask! Interact with them! Boost them if you feel comfortable with it! Don't let them feel so discouraged that they leave so soon.

I recommend checking the reblogs on realpokemon's pinned post every so often. It's a fantastic way to find new blogs.

Part 6: Exhaustion & A Call for Help

I've been trying very very hard to fix things, but I'm only human (as much as I wish I was a Meganium). I can't do everything by myself.

So I'm asking for help.

I have two blogs primarily made for boosting. @pkmnirlblogboosting and @tacklrnews. Former is OOC, while the latter is IC.

Pkmnirlblogboosting is for boosting blogs that either have less than 75 followers, or are less than a month old. If anyone wants to help me run it and boost blogs, feel free to send me a message asking if you can be added to pkmnirlblogboosting.

Tacklrnews is for reporting on events that are happening in-character. Its primary purpose is to boost stuff happening on people's blogs that they want more people to see and interact with. If anyone wants to help me with this, feel free to send me a message asking if you can be added to tacklrnews.

A caveat with tacklrnews: It's fully in-character, so you'll need to create a character for it to be a part of Pelipper's little news agency. It also writes articles on Pokemon RPC and Pokeask blogs, so to people in those communities, this offer is open to you all, too.

I hope these will both be helpful in revitalizing the Pokemon IRL community.

Part 7: Moving Forward

So, how do we move forward?

I think we should be more supportive towards others in this community. Less OOC anon hate and harassment, more engagement and boosting. Tell your fellow blogrunners how much you appreciate their blogs! Let them know they have people who care about them.

I love this community so, so much. I don't want it to fall apart and die. I'm doing everything in my power to keep it standing, but I'm just one person. I need your help, too.

Together, we can make this community better.

That's about all I had to say.

If you've read this far, thank you. I really appreciate you taking the time to read through this.

I'd appreciate any reblogs to spread this around, but don't feel pressured to if you don't want to.

I hope you all have a wonderful Pride Month.

-Bench

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

why does it comfort some people or bring them joy/excitement to imagine their favorite characters in terrible situations and being hurt physically or mentally? wouldn’t you want your favorite characters to be happy and safe?

I’m sure I’ve seen this exact ask being sent to another writing blog before, so seeing one in my own inbox was a little surprising. but anyway, I’ve said this before, but I don’t mind saying it again because lots of people seem to still be confused about this; the enjoyment of imagining or seeing fictional characters in terrible situations in which they are hurt and/or scared is called whump. people who enjoy whump tend to express their interest through art, such as drawings, writings, etc. whump has a community on several online platforms, as well as here on Tumblr. we are simply known as “whump community”.

moving on to your question, “why does it comfort us to imagine our favorite characters in agony?” — there is no definitive answer to the question, because different people enjoy whump for various, different reasons, and all of these reasons are valid. however, what I can give you is some examples of the reasons why people enjoy whump

reasons why people like whump:

some people use whump as a reflection of what they’ve been through, and they let their trauma out by channeling the trauma through fictional characters. to make it as simple as I can, some people use whump as a coping mechanism to help them heal from any traumatic events in their lives.

while whump is indeed about pain, it can also be about the comfort (the healing process) that comes after the pain. I personally known several people who heal by writing whump stories in which their favorite characters went through and survived terrible things that happened to them. the comfort part of the whump was used as a symbol of hope for these people, in the sense that they hold on to the idea that if these fictional characters can survive horrible things that happened to them, they (the writers) can survive and heal too.

some people use whump as a way to let out their frustration, trauma or pain. an abuse victim may fantasize about hurting their abuser back by creating a fantasy world in which their favorite character was hurt, but later healed and/or get their revenge.

it’s also worth mentioning that one doesn’t have go through their own trauma in order to be able to enjoy whump. 

some people like whump where their favorite character is hurt because they just Want to Hurt These Little Guys. 

some people like whump where their favorite character is hurt because they like the part where their favorite character gets comforted and is nursed back to health after they are rescued.

whump that’s followed by comfort (whump with a happy ending) is valid.

whump that has no comfort (whump without a happy ending) is also valid.

because whump is a genre, just like how lots of people like horror movies just for the sake of liking them. 

the term whumperflies is used to describe the euphoric feeling a person experiences while watching, drawing, writing or reading a whump scenario that hits right in the feels. for lack of better comparison, some people experience whumperflies that come close to an orgasm, whether or not whump is a sexual thing to them (some may enjoy whump as a form of kink, while some may enjoy whump for reasons that aren’t sexual at all). for some, whumperflies are these tingling sensation in the chest and/or the stomach, for someone else, whumperflies is like when you ride a rollercoaster and the ride is going down from its highest stop. there's no wrong way to experience whumperflies, as different people describe and experience them differently.

so, yes, some people may enjoy whump just for the euphoria whumperflies bring. and some people — myself included — can’t get whumperflies unless the character that’s going through pain is their most favorite character; it’s like… because you love this character so much, you’re so connected to them, you're so emotionally invested in them that you can only get whumperflies if it’s them going through the torture, meanwhile other characters just don’t make you feel half as strongly.

and that’s explain why people in the whump community prefer their favorite characters to be the ones going through hell.

and again, just like how movies have different genres, whump is a genre — people who like whump aren’t “freaks” or “red flags” in real life, even if they like whump for reasons that aren’t about coping mechanism. whump is a genre and a form of art, and most importantly, whump is fiction. it’s not real.

I do understand why people who aren’t into whump tend to be confused by the concept of whump, and I do understand why these people think being a fan of a fictional character only means wanting said fictional character to be safe and happy, which is why whump is not for everybody, and that’s okay too.

the thing is there is no wrong way to be a fan of something that’s fictional, you can like this fictional character so much you want to see them cry and covered in blood for whatever reasons, and that’s okay. as long as you’re not hurting anybody in real life.

there’s nothing wrong or abnormal about people who enjoy whump, just like how there’s nothing wrong or abnormal about people who like horror movies. it’s fiction and it’s a form of art. and I believe everybody is allowed to express and enjoy their interests through art in whichever way they want, as long as they’re not harming anybody in real life.

[stupidlovergirl]

Affection Points, +100!

Kabedoning them! Feat. Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor

Dev Notes: I love this trope so much, and wanted to write one myself. I am cringe but I am free.

Lucifer became your victim while you two were walking past each other in the House of Lamentation. You called his name and as he turned around, you slammed your hands, successfully trapping him between you and the hallway. He looks at you and scowls.

“What is this about, little human” he says, glaring down. You just smile, and press a kiss to his lips. His eyes widen for a brief moment, before he returns it. He manages to flip you two, where you were against the wall before you knew what was happening.

He pins smirks down at you, eyes predatory.

“If that’s all, then I must take my leave. It would be best for you to come when I call you later tonight, though” He tells you, and then walks off like nothing happened.

You - 0 Lucifer - 1.

You and Mammon were walking down the hallways of RAD as he prattled on about the new scheme he had. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to listen, but your headache was really making you irritable. Finally, you just had enough.

 “Mammon,” is all you say as you approach him, pushing him towards the wall, pinning him to it.

“I love you, but please, pipe down” you tell him. Before kissing him on the lips. You walked off to your class, leaving a sputtering demon who was processing all that happened in such a small amount of time. You had already made it to the end of the hallway before you heard him yell out “You can’t do that human!” 

You smiled and went on your way

Leviathan was a tricky one to catch. You knew you couldn’t do it in public, unless you wanted him to blue screen. So, after a gaming session with him, you chance was given when he stood up to grab a drink. 

“What do you want?” he asks, turning to his mini fridge, “I have energy drinks, water, and-”

You swiftly stood up, and pinned him to the wall beside it. “ I just want you,” you said with a smirk.

You watched his brain actively short circuit and yelp. His face was completely red, and he couldn’t help but cover his face.

“You- you can’t just do that!” He cries out, and it makes you smirk wider. Pulling his hand down, you get closer. “I can do whatever I want, sweetheart” you coo, and then pressed a kiss to his lips. You pulled away after a little, and heard a thud, seeing the boy on the ground.

“Levi? Are you alive?” you ask, worried you might have overdone it

“Rebooting” is all he can strangle out, curling onto himself.

Oops, you definitely broke him.

Satan is easy to catch, but you gotta mentally prepare yourself. He’s smooth, and will easily turn this on you. So when you spot him in the library, back turned and reaching for a book, you take a chance. You go behind him, and place your hands on the bookshelf behind him. He turns, with barely enough room. 

“Hey” you say simply, smiling at him, “Come here often?” Satan chuckles at your antics, deciding to play along with whatever silly game you're playing.

“I do, actually. Why do you ask?”

“Cause I wanted to check you out.” You say with a wink, and kiss him. He smiles in the kiss, returning it quickly. You spent the rest of the day reading the book he was grabbing, but you were more focused on him.

Asmodeus had dragged you to one of his modeling gigs. It was fun at the beginning, but it was taking so long, and you 're getting bored of waiting for it to be done. They had decided to take a break, let him walk around. He came to see you, and dragged you to the snack table. You listened to him tell you about the brand, and how he liked the way they made the pieces from this collection. He kept talking, then you got a bright idea. You got in front of him, walking him to the wall behind him. When his back bumped it, your arms shot up, caging him in.

“Oh! You’re so forward!!” He squealed, smiling at you, “What do you plan on doing? I hope you don’t eat me” he tells you in a flirty tone, a wink following soon after. You just laugh at his antics, pressing a fleeting kiss to his lips.

“Don’t want to mess up your makeup, do we?” you say, backing off from him. He pouts at this, rolling his eyes. 

“You tease! I’ll get you for that later” is all he says with a smile.

Yup, prepare yourself for Asmo’s barrage of affections after the shoot.

Beelzebub is quite the tall guy, so good luck. You decided to do it on the way back from one of his Fangol practices. He was munching down on a snack you had brought him, while you were telling him about your day. Once you see him finish his snack, you decide to set your plan in action, grab him by the hand and lead him into an alley, and “push” him against the wall of a building. He just looks down at you, curious.

“What are you doing?” he asks, tilting his head like a puppy. 

“Looking at the prettiest boy in the world” you reply, trying not to giggle.

“Oh.” 

You stood there for a second more. Then, pulled him down for a kiss. He easily complied with your actions, and as your lips met, you could feel his hands on your waist. When you pulled away, Beel was beaming at you.

“I wouldn’t mind doing that again” 

You laugh, and go in for another kiss.

Belphegor is hard to catch standing some days, so that is a difficulty all on its own. On a lucky chance, you catch him on his way to your room. He was about to open the door when you caught him. You swiftly close the door, and slam your arms by his shoulders as he turns.

“What are you doing” he asks boredly, a yawn escaping

“Wondering why you are trying to enter my room when I’m not there”

He rolls his eyes in response, “To sleep” he responds simply

“I don’t think I allowed that”

“I don’t care,” he responds.

“Well, you’ll care now” you say, faking an angry voice. Then, you pull him down for a kiss, a surprised noise escaping him. He returned it lazily, not making any moves to make it more than a simple kiss. While he was dazed, you slipped into your room.

You heard him grumble when he realized you ran off. You chuckled quietly when he walks in complaining about your actions.

[notsunnyowo]

"𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕞𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕗𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕘𝕣𝕠𝕨 𝕚𝕟 𝕞𝕪 𝕝𝕦𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕, 𝕒𝕝𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕓𝕖𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕚𝕗𝕦𝕝, 𝕀 𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕓𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙𝕖." --𝕌𝕟𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨𝕟

Word count: 5 216 words

Trigger Warning : Mentions of blood and death

Hanahaki disease Gojo x Female Reader

Angst, Gojo suffering from Hanahaki, Angst with happy ending, Female Reader (AFAB), Fluff, Gojo is absolutely smitten with reader

Summary: Gojo Satoru is loved by many, except for the sole person he himself loves

It was sudden, the scorching feeling that filled his throat as the milky-haired man began to cough. His throat and lungs felt like they were on fire. It was almost as if thorns were poking and proding at his insides.

As soon as he thought that the violent coughing outburst was nearing its end he felt something traveling up his wind pipe and entering his mouth. Spitting the foreign object out Satoru was surprised to find a rose petal, covered with crimson blood laying on the floor of his apartment.

___

"Are you certain it's not the doing of some curse technique?" Shoko questioned, carefully examining the bloodied petal her friend had brought to her this morning. "Or a cursed spirit perhaps?" The woman continued, eyes focusing on the delicate object at hand.

"Yes. I'm certain of it." Gojo responded. His voice much too serious in comparison to the usual tone it took whenever the man talked. "My six eyes haven't detected any unknown trace of cursed energy on it."

"I see.." Ieiri commented, continuing to inspect the odd object. She'd received a call earlier that morning from Satoru, asking her if he'd be able to come over to discuss some urgent matter. And that's how she'd gotten ahold of that rose petal.

"So you coughed this up yesterday, correct?"

"Yeah."

"Can you tell me what happened again?" She asked, lifting her gaze from the flower petal in order to look at the man.

"I was laying in bed last night, when I felt this strong itching sensation in the back of my throat, followed by a burning sensation in my chest." Satoru began. "And that's when I started coughing like crazy. It was so bad that I couldn't even catch my breath. . . Then I felt something in my throat and this came out."

"Alright.." The woman sat down on her chair, letting out a frusterated sigh.

"What do you think?" The white-haired man asked, his cerulean eyes harboring a mix of concern and irritation deep within them. Despite being worried about his health and well-being, given the gravity of the situation, Gojo being Gojo, found this 'weakness' to be quite a pain in the ass.

After a moment of pondering silence, the young doctor looked up at her patient. "It's a stretch but.." The unsureness of her words sent an irritating feeling throughout Satoru's entire body. "My best guess is to say that you're suffering from a phenomenon called the Hanahaki disease."

"Hana-what-now?" Gojo questioned, his brows creasing as he tried to recall any information he might've had about a disease that caused the patient to cough up rose petals, but to no avail.

Seeing the puzzled look on his face, Ieiri sighed. "Hanahaki is a disease that causes flowers to bloom in the lungs of those suffering from it. Those flowers continue to grow until they eventually suffocate the victim due to the blockage of air they impose on the patient."

"And how do I get rid of it?" Satoru asked, his voice stoic and serious.

"That's the thing.." The woman began, crossing her leg over the other. "It's caused by strong, usually unrequited, feelings of love towards someone."

Unrequited love..?

"So who is it?"

Stunned speechless for a moment, Satoru looked back at his friend. Once he'd regained his composure the man spoke, his tone now shifting to his usual, more carefree one. "Myself, obviously."

With an unamused look on her face Shoko raised an intrigued brow. "I'm pretty sure there's no such thing as Auto-Hanahaki. But, if there was, you'd definitely be suffering from it."

Letting out a loud sigh, the woman leaned back in her chair. "Well, whoever it is, you'd better settle your feelings with them before it's too late." She spoke, sincere concern evident in her voice. "However, just in case, I'll look into this disease more. See if there are any alternative ways of curing it."

"Okay."

___

After Shoko's diagnosis, Satoru was feeling worse than ever. He'd done some of his own research on this wired disease, which was now plaguing his existance. And what he found only made him, feel that much worse.

Hanahaki Disease (花吐き病 ) - a fictional disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It ends when the beloved returns their feelings (romantic love only; strong friendship is not enough), or when the victim dies. It can be cured through surgical removal, but when the infection is removed, the victim's romantic feelings for their love also disappear...

Frowning at his phone, the young man read trough the Wikipedia article, frustration growing inside him at an alarming rate. "How the hell am I even suffering from a fictional disease.." He muttered under his breath, brows furrowing as he annoyedly shoved his phone into his jacket pocket.

Letting an irritated sigh escape his lips, the man looked off into the horizon. "One-sided love, huh..? To think that I of all people would suffer from a diseased manifestation of one-sided love.."

Despite not voicing his feelings aloud, Gojo was well aware of them. He knew what the problem was. He knew what was needed to be done - who he needed to talk to for all of this to be over..

But he couldn't.

He was Satoru Gojo after all. The strongest sorcerer of the modern era. And with the title of strongest came its struggles. He was the pillar of the Gojo-clan - hell, even the whole jujustu society. A responsibility he alone had to carry to his grave.

Maybe it would've been easier to connect with people on a much deeper level if he was 'normal', if he wasn't 'special'.

But that was just wishful thinking on his behalf.

Even entertaining the idea of settling down, or even having someone to call his own sounded more like some well written fanfiction than a possible future he could look forward to.

There was no way he could possibly have something like that, not as long as he was "The Strongest" at least.

Not as long as there were people, curses even, that would stop at nothing if it meant having a chance to end his life.

He couldn't do that. Couldn't let someone he cared for so deeply be in constant danger, simply because they chose to love him. Couldn't let her life be endangered like that.

Even it it meant keeping her at a distance. Loving her from afar.

Satoru was a smart man and he wasn't oblivious to his feelings for you. On the contrary, he was well aware of them from the start.

He was aware of how he'd light up every time he'd see you. Or how he'd feel his heart skip a beat whenever your hands brushed against one another.

He'd known he was in love from the moment he'd seen you courageously risking your life for the safety of your students. He loved that about you. Hell, he loved everything about you. From the way you'd smile so fondly at him, whenever you were excited about something, to the way you spoke when teaching the first years.

And that was exactly why he could never tell you how he felt.

He'd never be able to live with himself if you'd ever gotten hurt because of him. He loved you with all his heart - and those bloodied petals were proof of it - however he'd promised himself to always keep you from harms way.

Even if that also meant keeping you away from him too.

He'd protect you, no matter what-

"Ah, Gojo! There you are! - I've been looking everywhere for you!" Stopping dead in his tracks, Satoru glanced back, ocean blue orbs meeting with your (eye colored) ones. The sight of your gleamful demeanor as you approached him made his heart swell up with joy - something which happened almost naturally at this point whenever you were with him.

"Is that so?" He cracked a grin, looking down at you.

However, there was something else stirring up inside him as well. A feeling he'd never experienced in your presence up until now. The immense aching feeling that quickly formed inside Satoru's chest was overwelming.

So much so, that the man found himself struggling to take a proper breath - and before he knew it - he'd began coughing. Exactly like how he had done yesterday.

"Yeah. I was wondering if you could-" You paused, looking at the tall man with a look of concern on your face. "Are you feeling alright? That cough sounds pretty bad." Your words, although caring and coming from a good heart, only seemed to further ignite the burning sensation in his heart. Effectively worsening his coughing spree.

Worry quickly spiking, you rushed over to your co-worker, and close personal friend. "Gojo-!" You called out to him, your voice filled with panic. You didn't know what it was that was causing the male such violent coughing, but what you did know was that it couldn't mean anything good.

Your worry only seemed to get worse when you first saw it. There on the sidewalk, all bloodied up, lied a single rose petal. You looked at the small petal with utter shock and disbelief. You were sure you wouldn't have believed what was laying in front of you, wasn't a figment of your imagination if you hadn't just seen it with your own eyes.

"Gojo.." Your voice trailed as you carefully inspected the foreign object. "...You just coughed up a flower petal..." You continued, your tone full of a mix of worry and confusion.

"Yeah.." The man, finally able to breathe properly again, replied.

"And you're not as freaked out about this as much as I am..?" You inquired, giving the sorcerer a worried look.

"Not really.." He answered, voice far too calm in comparison to yours.

"Okay..? And care to tell me why you coughed up a literal flower just now..??"

Satoru looked back at you, giving you a casual shoulder raise. "Apparently I'm lovesick."

"What?"

___

"I think I understand what's happening to Satoru.." Shoko began, looking at the two of you. After the whole coughing-up-a-flower fiasco, you'd insisted on taking Gojo to go see Shoko again, even if the man had told you that he'd already visited her earlier that morning.

"Cursed energy is derived from negative emotions. Therefore it's not completely unreasonable to assume that the more negative emotions a person feels the more likely they are to produce an excessive amount of cursed energy." She continued, pointing a finger at Gojo. "Satoru's practically already a walking pool of cursed energy so due to his technique, so imagine adding another load onto his already expensive amount."

The two of you listened to the woman speak intently, not wanting to miss a single thing. "Given the nature of the disease, it appears to be manifested whenever strong feelings are accumulated over a long period of time. And given that Gojo's emotionally constipated when it comes to expressing his feelings, the most probable case is that he's been bottling up his emotions for far too long. Causing them to physically manifest into these petals."

"Ouch, didn't have to bruise my ego like that Shoko." The man said, dramatically clutching his chest with faux hurt.

Letting out an amused scoff the woman continued her explanation. "They say that love is the strongest curse after all. And in your case, Satoru. It seems that you've cursed yourself, in a way."

With a worried frown on your face, you glanced over at Gojo, trying your best to study his every move. Despite him having given you a similar explanation as Shoko's, you still couldn't quite bring yourself to actually believe it was true. You'd known Gojo for quite some time now, having worked alongside him since the start of your teaching career here at Tokyo Jujutsu Highschool. And from what you'd witnessed, Satoru was extremely popular with the ladies, so the thought of a woman not returning his feelings sounded like a piece of fiction to you.

"Given the nature of the disease it's only going to get worse from here on out, if not intervened." The woman added after a long pause. "So I'd strongly recommend telling whoever it is you're in love with how you feel. - Even on the off chance that the feelings aren't mutual, it's might help release some of that cursed energy in a form that isn't hemoptysis."

Hearing Ieiri's words made your heart ache.

It was for a selfish reason really..

You felt jealous.. of the person who'd captured Satoru's heart..

Sure, it hurt you seeing the otherwise cheerful man in such a state.. But what hurt you even more was the fact that it was all because of someone who he thought didn't love him back..

You would be lying to yourself if you said that during the five years you had worked alongside the strongest sorcerer of your time, you hadn't developed some feelings for the charismatic man.

Your heart couldn't help but race whenever he was near you, just like you couldn't help the rosy blush that would tint your cheeks red every time he brought you a souvenir from one of his missions, claiming that he'd put much effort and care into finding the "perfect gift for his perfect co-worker".

Now hearing that he was suffering just because he loved someone who didn't reciprocate his feelings made your heart ache.

You had entertained the idea of confessing your feelings towards the blue-eyed man for quite some time now, hoping that there was a chance he might reciprocate them.

But now? All that hope dwindled like a wilting flower.

"I agree with Shoko.." You spoke, gaze glued to somewhere in the distance. "You should voice your feelings.. It'll help you feel better.."

___

It had been approximately five months ever since Satoru had somehow contracted the strange disease. Five months of coughing up petal, after petal covered with his own blood.

What once used to be him coughing up a single petal, two at most on a daily basis, had now escalated to him vomiting five to six petals at a time, at least three times during the day.

Once he'd even spat out a whole flower.

It would've been a far more beautiful sight, had the rose bloom not been covered with his blood, and had his lungs not burned from the act of coughing up the delicate flower.

For five months Satoru had been living his life with the constant ache in his chest. An ache that would not go away no matter what he tried doing.

The idea to use reverse cursed energy on himself had sprung up in his head during the second month. Right around the time when his constant ache was beginning to consume his every waking hour. Rendering the man unable to focus on anything else apart from it.

The first time he'd used cursed energy to heal his wounds, Satoru felt so proud of himself for coming up with such a brilliant idea, that he felt like giving himself a pat on the back as to congratulate himself for such brilliance.

Unfortunately though, his joy was rather shortlived, seeing as it turned out that using cursed energy was not only a temporary solution, but it also brought more problems than it solved. Using RCT on himself only seemed to worsen the effects of that wretched disease. Almost as if it was fanning its flames.

After that, he'd not tried healing himself using reverse cursed technique once more, unless the situation was quite dire.

For five whole months had he watched his body slowly, but surely scum to the disease. He felt like a shell of his former self. Satoru couldn't remember the last time he'd been able to take a proper breath without choking on a blasted flower.

And it only seemed to be getting worse from here out. Exactly like how Shoko had predicted.

He hadn't told you about his feelings, opting to suffer their burden alone, instead of jeopardizing your safety. An act that would eventually end up killing him in the long run.

Tonight was just like any other night. Satoru had returned home after a long day of work, immediately rushing to his bathroom to cough up the petals that were scratching his throat. It felt almost routine at this point. Get home, stain his sink with blood and roses, clean up and then go on about his day.

It was slowly killing him.

Satoru looked at himself in the mirror, eyes sunken and lips covered in blood. He looked more like a vampire than anything else right now. Lifting his hand from the sink, the man picked up one of the coughed up rose blossoms. His movements were soft and gentle, eyes softening slightly as he stared at the delicate flower.

With a pained chuckle he spoke. "I find it hard to believe that such a delicate thing as yourself could manage to wound the greatest sorcerer to ever live." His voice was hoarse from the constant strain his respiratory tracks had to endure.

Satoru didn't know whether he was referring to the flower or you in that moment, and to be completely honest, he didn't really care. This was just a reminder of all the struggles he had to endure in order to keep his title as "The Strongest Sorcerer of The Modern Era".

RING RING

The sound of his phone ringing caught his attention, snapping the young man out of any potential philosophical endeavors for the time being. Resting the rose on his bathroom sink, Satoru exited the bathroom, slowly making his way to the living room where he'd left his phone.

Picking the small object up and looking at the screen, his eyes lit up upon seeing your name pop up. Swiping his finger across the screen, he answered the phone.

"Hey." He said, trying to conceal the obvious hoarseness of his voice. "Need anything?"

"Hi, no uh-" Your voice came from the other line. Despite having seen you earlier today, Satoru found himself missing you even more now that he'd heard your voice. "I just finished doing some baking, but I accidentally ended up making a bit too many sweets. - And since I know you've got quite the sweet tooth I was wondering if you'd mind if I bring you some. Since, I don't want to waste some perfectly good Dorayaki."

Satoru couldn't help but smile at your considerate offer. God, he loved that side of you. So sweet and considerate. He just couldn't get enough. "Sure. I'm in my apartment right now, so you can stop by any time you'd like."

"Really? Great then!" You chimed. He could almost picture the bright smile you had on your face judging by your tone of voice. "I'll be there in twenty- Gotta clean up this mess first." You chuckled and Satoru swore he'd never heard a sound more melodic than this one.

"See you in twenty then." He replied.

"See ya."

___

Approximately twenty minutes after hanging up the call, Satoru heard the doorbell ringing.

That must be her.

Satoru thought. He'd already taken the liberty of cleaning up his little 'mess' in the bathroom. Taking the flower petals and throwing them away in the trash.

He didn't want you to see them. Didn't want to see that worried look upon your face. It would only make his heart ache more if he did.

With long strides, the young man effortlessly made his way to the entrance. Taking a stand at the door, he glanced at himself in the mirror, taking in his paler features with slight annoyance.

Hopefully she won't notice..

Oh but you had noticed. You'd noticed it a long time ago. Noticed his sunken features, the carefully concealed pain in his eyes. It was hard to look at the man you loved slowly suffering like that. All while you're frustratingly unable to do anything to help. All because of some woman..

You were standing there, patiently waiting for Gojo to open the door and let you in. Once you heard some shuffling on the other side you knew it was him and your body stiffened up.

As the door opened you were met with the sight of the milky-haired man, staring back at you with his big blue eyes.

"Hey." He greeted.

"Hi." You replied, suddenly feeling nervous. It wasn't like it was your first time coming over to his place so what was wrong? You'd visited Gojo plenty of times before, and not once had you felt as anxious as you did now. Strange. . .

"Don't just stand there, come in." Satoru said, offering you his signature boyish grin as he stepped aside allowing you to enter inside his luxurious apartment.

With a soft smile on your lips, you stepped inside, immediately opting to take off your shoes before going any further. Holding the bento box filled with Dorayaki in your hands, you followed the man to his living room.

"Make yourself at home." Gojo spoke, taking a step towards you and stretching out his hands in order to take the bento box from your hold.

With a quick nod, you handed him the container, and upon doing so you took a seat on his lavish sofa. Looking around, you took notice of all the little details about his apartment. It came as no surprise to you to find out that Satoru was a well organized man, even outside of work.

His apartment was absolutely spotless every time you'd visited him. You wondered how he'd get all the free time needed to keep everything so neat and tidy, but then again, he was the head of the Gojo-clan after all. And being the head of the top clan in all of Jujutsu Society came with its perks you supposed.

Resting your hands on your thighs, you took in a deep breath, secretly relishing in the room's scent. It smelled like sandalwood mixed in with a hint of that expensive cologne that Gojo would often use.

Or in other words, it smelled exactly like him.

Perfect.

Straightening up at the sound of his approaching footsteps, you instinctively glanced over to the door. Satoru, holding a porcelain plate filled with as many Dorayaki as he could fit, walked over to the table, before setting the plate down on it.

After giving you another grateful compliment for your outstanding work he finally took a seat, right across from you.

Conversation easily flowed after. Satoru was a man who found it easy to hold a conversation with almost anyone. Another attribute many envied him for. He was just so charismatic. And with the way he carried himself you couldn't help but be engaged in whatever he was telling you. Even if it was sometimes the most boring thing you could think of, he made it sound like such a fun topic.

Smiling softly at the man, you studied his features. Has he lost some weight? You thought, taking notice of his more prominent cheekbones. Shifting your gaze, your eyes met with his. Despite still having that same vibrant blue color in them, you couldn't help but notice the dullness behind them. It was like all the life was slowly being drained away from them.

By this point, Satoru had already stopped talking. Sensing your gaze on him his eyes locked with yours. Part of him knew what you were probably thinking. It made him want to look away. Not to let you see what had become of him because of his feelings for you.

And then he felt it.

Just like clockwork, his airways constructed, causing the man to curl down as he began coughing.

As soon as he'd begun coughing, you were up and rushing to his side. "Gojo!" You cried out his name, worry and panic filling your voice as you wracked your brain for anything that you could do to help him.

But nothing came to mind.

And so, you were left just standing there, arms hovering over the man you held so dear in your heart. The feeling of being unable to help the one you loved made you feel sick to the stomach.

A horrible experience, really.

Once the coughing had stopped, you looked at Satoru's bloodied lips, and then at the rose petals scattered across the floor. Staining the carpet red with his blood.

"How are you?" You asked, looking at the man with a worried expression.

"M' fine." He said in a raspy tone, followed by another deep cough. "Don't worry about me."

You frowned at his words. How could you possibly do anything else aside from worry about him when he was in such a state!

"You don't seem so well Gojo.." You spoke up, looking back at the snow-haired man with a gentle look in your eyes. A look that made his heart ache.

"Your condition only seems to have gotten worse as far as I can tell.." Pursing your lips, you paused for a moment before letting out a quiet sigh. "I'm just.. Really worried about you.."

Satoru could physically feel his heart breaking as you spoke those words to him. The last thing he'd wanted to hear was that he was the cause of your worry. The whole reason he hadn't told you that he was in love with you was solely for the reason as to not make you feel unhappy.. And yet..

He failed.

"Have you.." You continued, suddenly averting your gaze from his. "Have you told her your feelings yet?.."

A deep silence willed the room after you'd voiced your question. Neither of you spoke for what felt like hours, until Satoru finally broke the silence by answering your question.

"No.. I haven't."

"Why?"

The question left your lips before you could even stop yourself.

Satoru simply looked at you, before answering.

"I can't."

"You can't..?"

What does he mean by that? You thought, unable to find a reasonable explanation for why he simply couldn't confess his feelings to the woman he desired.

"I don't understand.. What's stopping you from telling her how you feel?"

You pressed the matter. If Gojo didn't do anything about his condition he wouldn't make it. And you for one were not planning on losing him any time soon.

Satoru looked back at you, and for a moment, he didn't really know what to tell you. He had no proper answer to give you that wouldn't inevitably reveal what he was trying to hide from you all this time.

"It's.. complicated."

"What is?" Furrowing your brows you looked back at him. "Gojo.. You do realize that not telling her how you feel is slowly killing you. There's no harm in admitting your feelings to her, you know.."

Despite the hurt that saying those words to him caused you, you had to put up with it. If it meant Satoru got to live, you'd happily grin and bear it.

"(Last Name), you don't understand.. I can't just tell her I love her, all right?" Satoru spoke, his voice a little shaken up. "It's not as simple as you think."

He paused, looking off into the distance before continuing once more. "Telling her I love her is only going to make her a target for everyone that's out to get me. I can't risk putting her in danger like that. I won't."

"And even if I do tell her. - There's no guarantee that she feels the same.."

"So what? You're going to accept death?" You spoke, voice cracking at the end. Glossy tears filled your eyes as your lip quivered. "And then what? What about all the people that need you in their life?"

"There are people that care so much about you Gojo!" You exclaimed, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. "I care about you!"

By this point, you were extremely shaken up. You couldn't believe that he was willing to accept his fate like that! Didn't he know how much he meant to you?

"I love you!"

The words left your mouth before you could even register what was happening. And once you did it was too late.

You could feel the wave of instant regret crashing against your body with such immense force. And Satoru's silence wasn't doing you any good either.

I messed up. I messed up real bad.!

The thought went over and over in your head as you stared back at Satoru. He was speechless. That was to be expected after all! Here he was slowly dying and you'd just confessed your love to him!

"G-Gojo I-" You began, unable to find the right words to say to him. "I am so sorry! I-I don't know what came over me, I just-"

"(Last Name)."

"I know that now is hardly the right time to be telling you this but it just slipped!-"

"(Last Name)."

"I mean you've already got so much on your plate and here I am telling you that I-?!"

Your words were cut off by Satoru's lips crashing against yours. A tingling sensation spread across your whole body and your stomach did flips.

Whatever feelings you were experiencing in that moment, Satoru was experiencing tenfold the amount. Hearing that you loved him back was like hearing the loveliest melody known to man. Those simple yet powerful words made his heart race.

You loved him..

You actually loved him.

After a few moments of sharing a kiss with the Gojo Satoru, the man finally pulled away. He looked at you straight in the eye, with his lips slightly parted.

Meanwhile you were just left standing there, completely and utterly speechless.

It took you some time to fully gather your thoughts, but once you did you asked, or more like stated in pure disbelief.

"You.. kissed me?"

"Yeah.." He began, his eyes softening as he focused their gaze on your petite figure." "I did, didn't I..?"

Checks flushed bright red, you looked back at the slender man. "D-Does that mean?-"

Satoru Gojo, had made a promise to himself. A promise that no matter the cost he would be there to protect you. He'd always be there to keep you safe. No matter what.

He knew that what he was about to say would go against his plan. Confessing his feelings would mean putting you in grave danger.

But he'd decided on something else after hearing those three faithful words from your lips.

He'd keep you safe by his side, even if it meant putting his life on the line. That was a risk he was willing to take if it meant getting to kiss your soft lips once more. Or hearing you say you love him too.

He'd do it within the blink of an eye for you.

That he vowed.

"I love you (Name)."

The words were so liberating. The thorns and roses that had been growing inside his lungs vanished into thin air. And finally, after months of pain and anguish, Satoru was finally able to take a breath without the constant reminder that he would forever be alone.

He loved you.

And you loved him back.

What more could a man hope for?

---

Author Note:

Hope you all enjoyed reading :)

The idea sounded much better in my head tbh but I think it turned out okay. TvT

[sluttysissyslave]

For Sissies and Alike!

This is a very long post so bear with me, do with it what you wish, forget it if you want to, but maybe, just maybe consider it. So, let me tell you why and how you all became what you are today, and how to go forward. If you feel you relate to it then let it sit, if it doesn't, forget about it.

Most of you developed these feelings when you were alone and sad, your standards dropped lower and lower without you even realizing it, and next thing you know you're fantasizing about being a slut for women, or maybe even men. But what you forgot about, was that originally, you were just searching for female affection, the touch of that girl you really liked but were too afraid to go up to. You became so desperate for love, for some sort of connection that you started modifying things... "Maybe if I submit myself to a woman she will finally love me" you degraded yourself for love you didn't try hard enough to get. And now, behind a digital screen you've found what you call your little safe space, you don't feel like you're alone in this anymore, it's your coping mechanism. You seek validation in a place designed for men to be degraded, not validated. If you started cross-dressing when you were young. Ask yourself: did you get a lot of human connection? Did your parents pay attention to you? You realised that girls receive all the attention, the love you so desperately wanted that no-one gave you when you were young. So you subconsciously realised the being a girl could get you that. When you wore the girly clothes and finally felt warm, and embraced, you just manifested that for yourself over time and when it happened you actually believed it, which is only natural, that's what manifestation does. Your mind tricked you into believing that you found what you were looking for. 

So, we've established that doing sexually feminine things is because submissive thoughts in a gay way is because you crave the love and affection you've been missing in your life. 

Some people call this mental illness, I think that's disrespectful and inaccurate, I say these traits are mental coping mechanisms, and you know what? They feel good, they feel great in fact, but they aren't what you were meant to be, you find solace and comfort in those rushes of endorphins and other feel-good chemicals. But let me remind you, this isn't a long-term solution, you will realize this as time goes on, so you'll go even more extreme to cope, to get an even bigger rush. You need to reconsider, the withdrawal will feel terrible, but the way you are currently going won't get you to the desires you were always meant to have, not the ones you might think you're currently suppressing.

Brainwashing:

Arguably you are truly the victims, but no-one is coming to save you but yourself. You will always be tested, from all sides, it's up to you whether you give in or not. Be strong, don't give in, stand your ground. Trust that there's always a better way, a better option, one that's more rewarding than the path you're on now.

So why are you the victims? Well in modern western society it is being slowly programmed into people from a very young age, as soon as they can absorb information. Ideologies that men are worthless, good for nothing, and that women are superior. I don't want to go into the details of why this is the case because then you'll be reading this until tomorrow, but trust me that it's the case, and let me prove it with an adequate example. Most submissive men (and all woke and other LGBT people are all located in the "rich" west), almost none in eastern and conservative countries. Why is that? They don't have exposure to these things from a young age, it's not that sissies and alike don't exist there, they aren't created. Also they are often poorer than you are, with lots of social security, peace and plentiful resources, people get lazy and weak, those people living in let's say, Moldova, have other things to worry about than putting on makeup and sticking a butt plug up their bum. They aren't suppressing any femininity (sexually), they never had any to begin with.

Let's talk about how you and your thoughts are being manipulated.

Origins in modern pop culture:

Tv shows - the man is always the idiot and the woman is always the smart, reasonable one. That wasn't always the case in civilized history, both men and women were smart and reasonable, their combined traits completed each other's and they could be a strong couple. Let's look at some examples… It starts with Friends - Joey, Chandler, are portrayed as a bit dumb, and the girls generally smarter. The Simpsons - Homer is an idiot, his wife is the real boss. Family Guy - Peter is an absolute idiot and Louis is the brains of the family, a voice of reason. And it's even in shows for little children, in Peppa pig The father is hardly a figure to look up to. The disrespect towards men has been going on for decades, and it really started, rather perhaps interestingly, after the fall of the Soviet Union, but I once again don't want to get into politics or else this post will never end. We are at a stage now where especially if you're white you are almost persecuted for it. You can't disagree when I say all people should be treated equally right? So why doesn't that apply to race. A fitting quote to go by for this would be: "Don't humiliate yourself before anyone, and don't haughty yourself over anyone"

I actually feel terrible for the genuine, kind, trans women who have done so much for themselves and still don't maybe feel good and satisfied. You've had to overcome a lot in pursuit of happiness, and whether you made you right or wrong choice is now irrelevant. Try to live your best life with what you have, and don't look back, it's too late for that anyway, it would only make things worse now. Look towards the future and never look back, do things which make YOU happy, and not someone else.

For dominant women: Don't see this as a threat, there will always be guys who are more submissive, everyone is definitely and spread out all across the scale, you'll find who you're looking for, only men with with low self-esteem want a weak-minded woman who they can control in all aspects of life. Most men like a strong-minded woman, I also want a strong woman. But don't confuse this for sexual submissiveness/dominance, those aren't the same thing. Feminine doesn't mean weak! 

General statement: The world is all butterflies and fairy tales now, enjoy it while you can, it will get worse, wars are coming, political and ideological changes are going to happen and if you are unprepared then, I have news, it won't end well. You are living in a digital jail right now, you are getting affected/manipulated, but at the end of the day you are the one who holds your own phone or opens your computer. Give yourself the power to control yourself, and free yourself of this jail.

IDEAS AND SOLUTIONS

Become the type man you'd want to serve: Often I see people with slight or fully gay fantasies about men, or being outperformed by certain men (women want them and not you. Become that man. It's going to be hard, in fact it's going to be the hardest thing you will ever do in your life, and it won't even come close. Try it, a person should be adventurous in life so why wouldn't you like to feel what it's like being that person? And the best part is, if you don't like it, you can go back to what you were before and say that you've tried it all and found what you really are, but you can't say that without actually experiencing it, not even a discussion. It'll be a process for a minimum of 1-2 years, and will require discipline and self-control, hey that's similar to serving and/or being locked in chastity, both of those require discipline and self-control too. You can do it.

Find yourself: People love talking about finding themselves, I read it here every now and again, "I found my true self here". You cannot find yourself behind a digital screen, you will find yourself by putting yourself in difficult situations, the easiest way to do that is by going into nature. Take a large backpack with only your essentials and survive in the forest for a week. If that's too much, then just go out in the morning, spend the night and come back, walking through terrain and getting to some destination. Maybe you live in a cold climate, in winter go out into the snow and walk around the forests all day. Remember to bring an emergency phone if going to places you don't know too well. 

Estrogen vs Testosterone: Estrogen makes you girly, and Testosterone manly, we know that right? To increase your estrogen naturally you can drink soy product, live an unhealthy lifestyle, and mentally stimulate yourself. You cannot produce as much estrogen naturally as a woman does, you'd have to take supplements. A healthy lifestyle in women increases their estrogen, and a healthy lifestyle in men increases their testosterone. You can increase your testosterone by exercising, eating meat (protein), onion, dark chocolate, a Mediterranean diet is pretty good, and of course getting high quality sleep, (here I am at 3am writing this post - hypocrite, I'm ashamed and I'll work on it).

Reward yourself. When you achieved a goal to becoming your new masculine life, treat yourself to something fulfilling. Whether it's some sort of food or an experience. We all need positive affirmations. You can reflect on what you've done well and what you've done poorly. Like me who wanted to s few important things and instead procrastinated for 3 days, hence, no reward, but as double self motivation I'll do a super big reward after putting myself together and getting all I wanted done (this post was no. 5 priority).

Belief. Believe in yourself that you can do it, your mind is extremely powerful, you give it less credit than it deserves, if you channel it the right way then it was serve you as a great tool.

Energy. Energy is another real, powerful, but invisible thing. Have you ever entered a historical religious place of worship? Like an ancient church in Europe or a mosque in the old Ottoman Empire like Turkey or even spain, a Buddhist or Hindu temple in Asia… they all have energy which you can feel, you absorb things differently with various energies. Or maybe more relatable, you're having fun at an outgoing fun party, you feel good right, smiling and enjoying life. That's positive energy. If you put yourself in environments with the type of energy you are currently looking for, it will help, a lot. I don't mean to say you should be religious or anything, but there's nothing wrong if you are or want to, it gives you hope and a sense of safety and security in its own ways.

Stand up for yourself. Have some morals and beliefs which you like and stand by. Don't be afraid to defend them in an argument.

This is my first authentic post on this website and I was very hesitant to make it, after all no-one might even read what I spent so much time on, but if at least one person is somehow positively influenced then it was worth it. I know that I will probably be reported by someone simply because they didn't agree with what I wrote, and my account will be taken down. If you don't agree with the things I said then ignore them, I made this for people who can resonate with something I wrote (not at all necessarily all of it), people who don't even know why they like the things they like, know it's not what they always wanted but find pleasure in it now. Hence please reblog if you like what you read, it won't be here forever.

If you are unsure or want to discuss anything feel free to DM.

If you want to do some research yourself, start with researching "Subliminal perception". It's absolutely everywhere and affects everyone, like it or not.

I might start positive things with a little political subcontext explaining my points further.

[weebsinstash]

As much as I want to have children by this man, let's take a moment to sip our platonic yandere Miguel juice

-i can't decide which sex he'd be more partial to in a 'child'/you since in the movie there was Gabriella but in the comics he eventually has a son who becomes the next Spiderman but--

-as a girl i just naturally think of a lot of those sorts of gender specific ideas 👉👈 he's this big scary hulking intimidating threat and his "daughter" is the one melting his cold exterior

-doesnt matter if you're a grown ass woman, Miguel sees you struggling to braid your hair and suddenly here he is, full dad mode, doing it for you,and depending on how close you two are, maybe he disguises it with "ugh, stop spending so much time messing around with that. If I do it for you will you get back to work? 🙄", but really it's just your new self proclaimed dad/tio wanting to help braid your hair and help you feel pretty and, oh, how he can fondly remember the last time he helped braid "his daughter's" hair...

-of course this evolves to him just loving to do things with your hair. Braid it, wear it natural, style it, use products on it, hes got you. you were just trying to put your hair in a lazy updo like a ponytail or bun and this man doesn't let you leave until he's got you completely combed out, hair braided with ribbons, and of course this entire time youre awkwardly sitting there in a chair in his absolute cave of a workstation with this gargantuan 6'9 man there, "so how was your day? Staying out of trouble?"

-really I mean. Is stealing other people's kids NOT technically in character for him. You're unfortunate enough to trauma bond with this man and you're never getting rid of him

-you hear Miles Morales call him tio (as in the tio meaning dude) and you jokingly teasingly start calling him tio, which Miguel secretly pretends is the version that means uncle. You're just constantly joking around or looking up at him with these big pouty eyes, "but tio 🥺 can't I PLEASE--" and its like. Lmao people know that if they need to ask Miguel for a favor, that it increases their chances to have you ask in their stead

- I mean, as a female adult abused as a child by my own father, raised by a single mom myself, like...

Reader flinches away when Peter B goes to give you a supportive pat on the back or comes in for a high five after a mission and you force yourself to laugh because you're feeling more than just a little awkward and in the spotlight. "Oh, sorry, that was dumb!" And they eventually get you to kind of anxiously word vomit "my dad used to just kind of, rough me up sometimes when I did something wrong! It-it could've been a lot worse honestly, but, it-it just makes me kinda jumpy around guys sometimes! It's not a big deal, or personal or anything. I'm sorry if I made you feel bad 🥺"

Peter B, Jessica, and Miguel all there as older parental figures and also literal parents, immediately exchange looks and agree like "oh hell naw, don't like that" and you get silently adopted by all three of em right then and there

-if it's a physically abusive father and you're still the victim of abuse, I imagine your dad had some suspicious figures suddenly show up in the middle of the night to terrify and threaten the shit out of him and suddenly you aren't getting as manhandled anymore

-can you imagine, like, you show up to Spider Society one day with a black eye "oh, this? It's, it's nothing. My dad is just, he's about to make police captain and he's really stressed about it is all" cue all your friends mentally high fiving around the table because your abusive piece of shit dad is going to die and you don't even know. When it happens they'll all be "oh no, sweetie, I'm SOOOO sorry :(" meanwhile they're thrilled bc now you don't have any parents and they can weasel in there as your new family, schedule your birthday parties, monopolizing more of your time, things like that

-goddd I just imagine it could become some kind of weird fucked up enmeshed scenario where the structure it's providing for your life is actually good for you meanwhile Miguel is like, retroactively kind of soothing some of his trauma both from his own childhood and what happened with the second universe he broke that it's just like. You're a grown ass adult and this man is tucking you in goodnight and saying "te amo, mija" at the doorway and you bet his ass is going to stand there and not let you sleep until you say it back. He knows you're just absolutely seething at him and he'll still refuse to leave without a grumbling "te amo, papá 🙄"

-He eventually just has you doing so much shit and depending on him so much that it starts to become second nature to you. one day you're in the Society doing one of the odd jobs you're allowed to help with and suddenly you're thinking, "Ugh I actually don't know what to do next, I wish Papá was here to-- WAIT SHIT NO I MEAN MIGUEL--"

-lmaooooo as a non Spanish speaker I keep thinking of how awwwwwful it would be if he actually forces you to learn Spanish. Not inherently because there's anything wrong with Spanish, but, I'm not always smart, and I can just SEE him quizzing your ass, forcing you to have entire conversations in Spanish, always clicking his tongue or chuckling at you when you make a mistake and he just thinks you're so cute struggling to learn 🥰 man hears you're trying to take extra lessons from Miles and he instantly drops everything he's doing to go track the little scamp down. Insert meme "I can forgive being an anomaly but I draw the line at teaching Reader bad Spanish"

-siiiiiiigh eventually the day comes when you're in big danger and you need his help, maybe you disobeyed him and was hanging out with some other Spiders in another dimension when there was a sudden villain attack, and he comes to your rescue as a villain does something dramatic like has a gun to your head or a knife to your neck and the second you see him you're just overwhelmed wirh a sense of relief, calling out for him, calling him dad/tio/papá whatever, and he's just like 😭❤️ pumping his fist internally, like YES you are so grounded when you get back home but also 🥰 you finally called him dad without him having to twist your arm 🥰 nevermind if the "villain" who kidnapped you was actually a Spider who owed him a favor, and this whole thing was to teach you a lesson about listening to your Papá, that's not important ❤️

-Miguel who forces you to learn Spanish vs Miguel who forces you to be Catholic. I can excuse kidnapping and forced adoption but I draw the line at making me practice religion 💀 no but seriously, he probably does have certain morals and values he instills/forces upon you if he thinks you need them, and he'll probably be one of those fathers, "are you leaving the house dressed like that? Go change" and orders you not to hang out with certain people he doesn't approve of or thinks have bad character (like hobie lmao)

-bruh you two will be on a super serious important mission and this man will be like "it's dark, hold my hand so we dont get separated"

Eventually it comes to a point where you're, not perfectly behaved but, just about. If someone finds Miguel, it means you're not very far away, or vice versa. Members of the Society quickly learn not to make any advances on you or make any "adult" comments unless they want to get suspiciously hurt during a personal training session by the big boss himself. You think you're safe just cause Miguel isn't around? Nah, cause then you have Peter B and Jess keeping an eye on you, and, not that YOU'RE aware of the extent, but, if Miguel ever gets worried, he can just ask Lyla what you've been getting up to, since your modified little daypass has her installed into it and she can track your every move ❤️ helicopter parent? Oh honey, you have NO idea...

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

boom! l Javi Gutierrez

Summary:  Javi almost hit you with his car, that's how it all started

Warnings:  just fluff, you're safe, kissing, a little bit og wine, Javi is cute and sweet, mi amor

 A/N: no one asked, but i needed this. this is gonna be boring and sweet as cotton candy. i think we all need a date like this. let's forget i wrote that.

He remembered the day he first met his mi amor. It was a hot afternoon, his car was speeding through the streets of a sleepy town - maybe a little too fast - and the beautiful mi amor appeared out of nowhere in front of him. You almost fell into his arms, although you thought you almost fell under the wheels of his car.

You threw every curse word you knew at him, called him an idiot and said that his macho style would eventually get someone killed and knowing your luck - it would be you.

And he just stood next to the car, with his brown eyes wide open, wavy hair falling in disarray and slightly parted lips staring at you as if he saw the eighth wonder of the world.

He didn't say a word. He just stared at you until all the emotions flowed out of you.

"Hey! Are you okay?" you finally asked, snapping your fingers in front of his eyes.

"Mi amor..." he replied, a smile lighting up his face "It's a twist of fate that we ran into each other!"

"More like your reckless driving." You mumbled. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"More than ever."

You didn't want to continue this strange conversation. You backed away with the thought of going home, but every time you turned around, the man was still there, still staring at you with that same absent gaze.

You couldn't have known that Javi Gutierrez had just met his match.

You might have wanted to forget about the whole event, but Javi couldn't forget about you. When you left the house the next day, you saw him standing on the other side of the street.

It was a bit strange and unsettling. You knew too many horror stories about stalkers, but you didn't know if any of them lit up at the sight of their victim like this man did when you appeared before his eyes.

"Wait!" he called as after a moment of hesitation you quickened your pace "Mi amor, wait!"

"What are you doing here?" you hissed "How do you know where I live? Are you following me?"

"That's a very unfortunate choice of words. It would mean that I'm a stalker or some other freak." He caught up to you and saw how you raised your eyebrows "And you would have the right to think so." He added hastily "I wanted to apologize, mi amor. For what happened yesterday."

He overtook you and pulled a bouquet of red roses from behind his back. That made you stop.

You looked at the flowers and at the man holding them. You didn't see anything dangerous in his gaze, quite the opposite. He seemed really nice and sorry about yesterday's accident. You took the flowers from him, and his cheerful smile completely melted your heart.

"Thank you, mi amor." he said, delighted. "You don't even know what a relief it is for me. I wouldn't forgive myself if you hated me for what I did."

"Please, it's okay."

"Now for sure. I'm Javi, and you?"

"You know where I live, but you don't know my name?" you smiled slyly.

Javi let out a loud breath through his teeth, clearly caught red-handed.

"Yeah, you're right. But it's nice to finally meet you, Y/N."

There was something charming and intriguing about him. He reminded you of a puppy that demanded your attention and got excited when he finally got it. And it was sweet.

"Would you like to have dinner with me?" he blurted out.

"I barely know you, Javi."

"My name is Javi Gutiérrez. I live over there." He pointed to an impressive building on a nearby hill. "I can show you my driver's license if you want." He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and pulled out a plastic disk.

"That's not necessary." You laughed. "You're very..."

"Creepy? Intrusive?"

"Involved."

"That's good, right?" he looked at you uncertainly.

"I guess so. I'm free today, if that's okay with you."

"Yes! Of course! I'll pick you up at 8, is that okay?"

"Sure. Bye, Javi."

This was his second favorite day.

Was what you were doing irresponsible? Probably a little bit. However, Javi had something that drew you to him and you wanted to see what it was. Despite everything, you didn't kid yourself and took into account the fact that your first date could also be your last. So you wanted to have fun.

However, all courage escaped from you like the air from a balloon when you left the house at the agreed time.

Javi was waiting for you by the car, just as he promised. Dressed in a dark, well-tailored suit, a white shirt slightly unbuttoned under his neck, revealing his skin touched by the sun. His hair was tamed and he looked really...

"Wow..." you mumbled, approaching him "I didn't know it was so formal. My dress looks very... ordinary next to you."

"You look phenomenal, mi amor." he replied, and you felt that he was really serious.

He took your hand and kissed the back of it, probably deciding to use all his charm on you. It was easy to fall under his spell, and you definitely jumped in headfirst.

Maybe it was the way he treated you? Maybe you had never felt before that someone was so totally focused on you and your needs? Or maybe all of that plus the wonderful view from the terrace where you were having dinner and sipping really good wine.

You didn't pull your hand away when his fingers started stroking the back of it, and it brought him relief. God! If only you knew what was going on in his head at that moment.

Javi tried to keep his emotions in check. He didn't want to scare you and make you run away from him. He wanted everything to be perfect, just like you.

"So..."

You were walking along the seaside, the water pleasantly washing over your bare feet. The cloudless sky was filled with thousands of stars, and the calm sound of waves filled the silence.

"So you often try to run over some girl and then ask her out?"

"No, not really." Javi laughed quietly "It was an accident. But a very, very successful accident."

"Do you think so?" you looked at his handsome profile.

"Definitely. You're one of a kind, mi amor."

You smiled.

"I think you're straight out of a fairy tale or something."

"What? Why?"

"I don't know. No one's ever treated me like you did before." You shrugged and stopped. "If you're just playing with me, say so. If you just want to fuck me, then..."

"Mi amor!" Javi seemed genuinely offended. "Why do you say that? Did I do something to make you think that?"

"No, I just..."

You looked down. You felt stupid. Javi was a charming man, and you still decided to suspect he had some nefarious intentions towards you.

"Hey, sweetheart." he grabbed your chin and lifted it so you looked straight into his shining eyes "Maybe once, a long time ago, some idiot hurt you, but it wasn't me, you know. Yesterday... God! When I saw you, it was like a lightning strike. Boom!"

"Boom?"

“Boom!” Javi raised his hands in excitement.

"You're crazy!" you laughed.

"Crazy? I'll show you what madness is. C'mon, mi amor!"

He grabbed your hand and started pulling you towards the water.

"W-What are you doing?! Javi!"

He was already waist-deep in water and was pulling you even deeper. Your dress stuck to your body, but Javi was still in his suit. At some point, you lost ground under your feet. Panic crept into your heart.

"J-Javi?" you grabbed his hand tighter.

"You can't swim, mi amor?" he asked tenderly, then moved closer to you.

"I'm not the best at this." you answered uncertainly.

"I'll help you. Will you let me?"

You nodded and felt Javi's arms wrap around your waist. It gave you some stability and a sense of security.

"Better?"

"Yes. Much better."

The waves lazily carried you away, but Javi was like a safe haven for you. You could smell his pleasant scent, and his body was warm, despite the water surrounding you.

"Are you cold, mi amor?"

"No, why do you ask?"

"You're shivering."

You bit your lip, feeling the heat pouring down your neck and cheeks. You were grateful that Javi couldn't see it in the dark, but he could definitely feel how your body tensed up nervously. His hand ran tenderly over your back.

"Hey, I won't hurt you." he said calmly. "I'd cut my arm off if I did."

"You don't have to do this."

"But I want to!"

"Javi, I trust you. I don't know why, because I barely know you, but I trust you. Is this madness?"

He smiled, and you noticed those cute little wrinkles around his eyes that looked at you with such tenderness.

"Maybe we're both crazy, mi amor." he replied. "Is that bad?"

"Tell me yourself."

"I think I'd like to kiss you now."

Now it was you who smiled. Your fingers unconsciously played with his hair, and you noticed how natural it all was for you. His closeness, this moment, his arms that embraced you.

"So why aren't you doing it yet, Javi?"

You didn't have to repeat it a second time. In an instant, his lips were on yours, soft and tender. When you parted your lips, his warm tongue slipped inside. He tased like a wine and it was totally intoxicating.

You clung to him, deepening the kiss and losing your breath more and more.

His hand slid down to your hip, which he squeezed lightly, but didn't go any further. A sweet purr escaped his throat, and it made you laugh.

"What?" he asked as you pulled away and giggled, "I can't help it, mi amor. You're the one who does that to me."

"It doesn't matter. I like it."

"Really?"

"Yeah, and I really like you, Javi. I guess that means I'm crazy."

"So let's be in this madness together. I want to meet you tomorrow and the day after, and the day after, and every day after that."

"You'll get bored with me."

"Naah! Don't say that, mi amor. I'm drunk on you and I want more, and more. Give me a chance, please."

Javi didn't have to ask you. You were already sure you'd agree to all of this. You were completely enchanted by him. Maybe it was madness, but you didn't want to stop, you didn't want to go back to normal.

He stared at you expectantly, but you didn't answer. You took his face in your hands and kissed him tenderly. That was your answer, and Javi was delighted with it.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger Barel Main Route - Chapter 15 His POV

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.

It seemed like there could never be peace in this world.

Elbert: …

Roger: Yo, El. Have you seen the ‘lil lady around? I wanted to get her to do some work for me, but haven’t seen her for a while.

Elbert: Roger. Listen to me calmly.

It’s possible that Kate was kidnapped.

—In an instant, all sounds ceased.

Roger: Kate? What do you mean?

Ellis: What you just said, is it true…?

I turned around and saw Jude and Ellis who had just come back from work.

Jude: The princess got kidnapped? By who?

Elbert: I’m not sure. Earlier in the garden, a coachman came up to me looking terribly disturbed.

He said that he dropped Kate off not far from the cemetery, but no matter how long he waited, she never came back.

He went to go look for her, but only found Ale.

Here, he gave me this.

He handed me a piece of paper with “I’ll be back soon” written in Kate’s handwriting.

Ellis: Kate wanted to go leave flowers on the grave of the Cursed One who passed a few days ago.

She said she’d take a carriage and be back before sundown, so she’d be fine.

Jude: That’s Saint Cemetery. Got a road so narrow that carriages pass through.

Somethin’ must’ve the moment she got out.

Elbert: We don’t know what happened, but we can’t waste any time. What do we do, Roger?

If Kate never comes back.

If I never hear her voice or see her smile again, I…

Elbert: …Roger?

Elbert waved his hand in front of my face, bringing me back to reality.

Roger: …

Ellis: Roger, are you okay?

Roger: Yeah…sorry. Just…a little shaken.

Elbert and Ellis: …(°ロ°)

I was having some trouble processing my emotions, confused.

(I’ve had these feelings before, not once)

I took a deep breath to calm myself, eyes now focused.

Roger: This likely has something to do with the recent incidents.

Let’s tell Victor first and then gather the rest of Crown.

--

When news of Kate’s disappearance broke, all of Crown assembled.

It was determined that it was highly likely Kate was involved in the incidents targeting young people.

Based on where the victims had gone missing, possible bases were identified.We split into four teams and set out to search each location.

--

Paired up with Jude, I ran down to the basement to get my hunting rifle.

—But, when the spare bullets tumbled out of my hand, I realized that for the first time, I was still shaken up.

(...Damn it, I need to calm down)

Since joining Crown, I’ve gone through hell so many times.

I’ve witnessed many deaths.

Death wasn’t something I was afraid of. Since I’ve been surrounded by it, I’ve grown used to it.

…Still.

(I think I'm afraid of losing her)

(I think she’s the only one I can’t afford to lose)

(There’s a reason why only one person was an “exception”)

Suddenly, some notes on my desk caught my attention. They were notes that Kate would occasionally leave.

~~

—Roger, I’ve left some food for you. If you don’t eat properly, I’m going to scold you later!

—Roger, do you want to go on a walk together this evening? Come find me when you’re done with work.

Roger, Roger, Roger…

~~

I had always believed that romantic love didn’t exist in this world.

I thought that what people called romantic love was just a dysfunction of the brain or a misunderstanding caused by sexual desire.

However, I already knew why my emotions were in a disarray without rhyme or reason.

(Ah, so that’s it)

(Looks like the lil’ lady’s already taught me about romantic love after all)

(Does she feel the most special to me?)

“I won’t despair”——Those words that she threw out into the world drew me toward her.

“I want to be strong”——I was charmed by that earnest, hardworking gaze.

“I want you to like me”——I was hit with an ardent emotion that burned my heart.

(...Damn it, I’m not gonna let you get away after teaching me these annoying feelings)

I strapped my rifle to my back and pocketed the bullets. 

An unprecedented passion seethes in my chest.

Roger: …I’m coming for you. Wait for me, Kate. Don’t you dare die.