#life is hard for the coward lmao

[dystopiagnome]

TV makes it seem like spin the bottle is such a quintessential part of adolescence but like, who the fuck has played spin the bottle since 2011

[cloud-based-and-rainpilled]

Feelin a little spicy………. might write a kenstewy fic idk 😳

[selfinflictedgunshotwound]

this might sound bad but it is comforting to know that suicide is always an option

[snekdood]

i dont think ill ever turn on asks again. if someone wants to bother me so badly about something thats so, so important they can make a fake account and message me. yes i Am gonna cuck your effort to try n humiliate me on my own blog <3 suck a dick tyvm

[semercury]

.

[redtsundere-writes]

Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen

mma fighter!sukuna ryomen x femalecoach!reader

Part 8. Fight For Me.

Beginning. ← Previous | Next →

Spynosis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Sukuna being Sukuna. Female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Warnings: Cursed words. Unethical violence. Sexual harassment. I only read it once, lmao Word count: 2927 words. A/N: Another Saturday, another chapter. I picked up studying Japanese again, so far so good. Any advice is welcome :) Hope you guys like today's chapter. :) Btw I made a PLAYLIST

That was the most uncomfortable morning of my life. I can’t get the idea that I fell asleep in Sukuna's bed like it was nothing out of my head. All I could do was to get dressed quickly to get back to my house before the morning training started. Luckily, I didn't see Sukuna on my way out, maybe he slept in the guest room… or so I thought. His penthouse was huge, there must have been an extra room for sure. Upon arriving at the gym, Sukuna just scolded me for being late as if nothing happened last night, so I acted accordingly. 

Cheers and praises flooded the arena as soon as Sukuna's anthem began booming over the speakers. Even though it was the last fight of the night, this was just starting. The sound mitigated with every step we took upon the intimidating octagon where Naoya was waiting for us after making his grand entrance. I was so nervous I felt like I was going to throw up at any moment, but I had to stay strong. This was not the time to act like a coward. 

The referee checked Sukuna's gloves and body for sandbags or anything out of place. During the inspection, Sukuna gave me a serious glare. He looked so calm for someone who was about to be locked in a cage to fight another beast his size. I had interrupted Naoya's lucky ritual and helped him perform his luck ritual successfully. He was sure he was going to win, but he couldn't let his guard down. 

Sukuna stepped onto the big stage and jogged around the perimeter so that everyone could admire his greatness. Naoya instead of watching him to analyze his opponent, was focused on me. His eyes were looking at me through the black fence, conveying a message I did not want to decipher. Sukuna had to beat him if I didn't want him to escape from the cage and lock me in his clutches. I gulped hard as soon as the referee approached them to give them the basic rules. It was time. I closed my eyes to pray to all the deities of the constellations, crossed my fingers and prayed that Sukuna's sign was lucky today. 

The bell rang and the first round began. People shouted in anticipation as the lion engaged the cheetah in a dangerous dance for dominance. As we had planned, Sukuna was taking his time with him. He was waiting for our common enemy to feel comfortable enough to approach him. Naoya took the bait as he slammed in on him with a pair of jabs, he was going right at his jaw to end the fight. “He looks different,” I thought as I watched him attack Sukuna without hesitation. He was desperate to win as fast as possible, even if that meant throwing away all his energy in the first round. 

Everything was being decided by boxing in the first two rounds, so far, we were going according to plan. Sukuna was like a fish in water, dodging every punch he landed and landing a couple of jabs that connected perfectly with his body, while Naoya struggled to take him down. There was a minute left in the third round when Naoya knocked Sukuna down with a spinning kick. The cheetah turned into a dangerous boa that attached itself to his body mercilessly. Its legs wrapped around his waist to put him in a neck lock. Sukuna tried to pull away from the cheetah's grip with hopeless punches and kicks, but Naoya wasn't about to let it go so easily. 

“Hold on, Sukuna!” I yelled in desperation amidst the howls of the fans. 

I looked at the clock hoping that the seconds would pass quickly, but it felt like an eternity. Sukuna was pushing away with difficulty the arm that chained his neck to keep from fainting. My eyes were on the verge of tears, the champion could not lose, not today. 

The bell rang, and the fighters walked away. I sighed in relief and rushed up to the octagon with Gojo and Yuuji to assist him in the break. Gojo put ice on his shoulder and Yuuji gave him water. 

“Change of plans. We must go to the floor,” I said. 

“What?” Sukuna asked me, taking off his mouth guard. 

“Naoya is desperate. He wants to win at any cost, it seems that this time he doesn't want to leave it to the judges. This is your chance to use his attacks against him,” I explained, but Sukuna didn't seem to be convinced. 

“I agree. He is fighting differently from before. Use your legs, they are longer than his,” Gojo intervened. With that, Sukuna nodded before the next round was announced by a beautiful ring girl. 

Naoya's eyes were on me as he prepared for the next round. I returned her gaze in kind, I wasn't going to let him bully me just because. The bell announced the fourth round and my eyes returned to Sukuna. After a back and forth of punches and low kicks, Naoya went straight at him. Naoya knocked him down, pushing him by the shoulders. Sukuna fell backwards with a loud thud. This time, time wasn't going to stop him. I had seen this attack before. 

“Push him with your legs!” I yelled so he could hear me as I ran around the perimeter of the octagon to get a better angle on the attack. 

Sukuna understood what I meant. With the inertia of Naoya's attack, Sukuna pushed him by the abdomen. I thought he would push him away, instead, he grabbed him by the arms and lifted him up to have him at his mercy for a couple of seconds in the air. I could see Naoya's eyes as he realized he had screwed up. Sukuna threw him to turn him like a helicopter propeller to put his leg between his arms and whip him against the floor. He caged him between his legs and kept pulling him by his limb to keep Naoya in a headlock. 

“Sukuna…” I mumbled in shock. 

Naoya was hitting him by the legs while trying to free his trapped arm. The referee was asking Naoya to get out of it quickly, or he was going to call the fight over. Time paused again as the scene unfolded before me. A king demonstrating his power to a rebellious knight. I no longer heard the people, nor my team, nor my thoughts. It was just my eyes taking in the facts, tasting those uncertain moments. 

Naoya was completely trapped, so the referee announced the end of the fight. I caught my breath and came back to my senses at the decision. Sukuna broke away from Naoya and slowly stood up to regain his posture. He looked at me through the fence and gave me a slight smirk. “Mothafucker did it,” I thought before a tear of happiness slipped down my cheek. We had won, I was free and the champion proved himself the best once again. 

I met up with the team to go up to the octagon to celebrate the victory. I moved through the crowd to give him a sweaty bear hug. I wanted to congratulate him, and thank him for giving his best as always, but I was so happy the words wouldn't come out of my mouth. I could only cry of joy on his shoulder. 

“Stop crying like a bitch,” he whispered between chiding teeth as he wiped my face with the towel around his neck. 

“Can’t I be happy?!” I scolded him between sniffles. 

“You're humiliating me. I can't have a crybaby of a trainer,” he complained. 

“I'm not...!”

My eyes popped open as soon as Sukuna connected his lips with mine in a sweet kiss in front of everyone. My cheeks turned the color of his hair and my heart started beating like crazy from shock. It was not a passionate kiss as he usually kisses me in the secrecy of his ritual, it was a tender touch in the middle of an octagon full of fighters and cameras watching us. Our lips didn't last more than 5 seconds connected, but it felt like it lasted an eternity. 

The sharp sound of something metallic woke me up from the moment. Naoya had hit Sukuna in the head with his metal water bottle before anyone could stop him. The arena gasped in shock at the unsportsmanlike attitude. Team Zenin pulled him back before he could land another misplaced blow. Yuuji, Gojo and Nanami lashed out at him and his coach for not being able to control their athlete. 

“How dare you kiss what's mine?! Let’s get back together, y/n!” Naoya screamed in a tantrum as he tried to break free from the grip of his teammates. 

“Are you okay?” I asked Sukuna worriedly as I put some ice on his bump. 

“Yes, I feel better now,” he said with a proud smile as he watched Naoya in emotional agony. 

“Naoya Zenin will appear before the official UFC committee for lack of discipline and unsportsmanlike attitude tomorrow afternoon for his actions after tonight's fight, but there are already rumors that he will be suspended for more than 5 years from all events,” The commentator announced. 

Team Black howled with joy at the news. My heart had finally calmed down after drinking a nice beer and chatting for a while with Yuuji and Megumi at the same bar we came last time. My mind was finally resting at peace after Sukuna beat up Naoya and explained to Nanami that the kiss had only been to get Naoya off her nerves. “Relax, that kiss didn't mean anything, it was just part of the strategy,” I thought as I remembered how intense that unexpected contact felt. 

“Aren't you supposed to be with the Zenins? Aren't they family?” I asked Megumi curiously to distract my mind from the strong palpitations of my passionate heart. 

“More or less. My father was kicked out of the dojo as soon as he challenged my uncle Naobito and beat him. The family could not bear such a breach of family honor,” Megumi explained, not caring at all about the incident. “I never thought that Sukuna could lift Naoya with his body, it was really incredible. Did you teach him that move?” He asked me before taking a sip of her beer. 

I looked briefly at Sukuna who was chatting pleasantly with Nanami on the other side of the table. Quickly, he noticed that I was watching him. I turned around in time so that he wouldn't think I had been watching him for a long time and that we had only connected casual glances. “Why am I thinking like a lovesick teenager?”, I scolded myself.

“I didn't know he could do that either,” I agreed, to which Megumi looked at me strangely.

After a stressful day and a couple of drinks to counteract the body ailment. I said goodbye to everyone and set out to head home under the midnight stars. I smiled to myself as I replayed in my mind how Sukuna had cornered Naoya against the canvas. The sound of his bare back impacting hard played in my mind on loop. It had been a lousy day, but an incredible night I would never forget. 

“Where are you going?” someone asked behind me. I could recognize Sukuna's voice anywhere in the world. 

“Home, to rest,” I answered as I faced him fully. Why had he followed me? Whatever the reason, we were alone on the sidewalk, it was the right time to tell him how I felt. “You did amazing tonight, thank you very much.” 

“I just did my job, I didn't do it for you,” he said with that serious tone I knew so well by now, he purposely made it sound like he was annoyed. 

“I know you didn't do it for me, but I still want you to know that I owe you one,” I joked.

He didn't hesitate to approach me, I thought he would give me a hug or another kiss, so I just froze in place. Instead, he just handed me a silver key with a Team Black keychain on it. I inspected it carefully as I twirled it between my fingers. 

“You are going to live with me, starting tonight,” he announced as if it was nothing. 

“What?! Why?!” I was really confused.

“Naoya will probably be suspended from the UFC tomorrow and have to pay a stupidly expensive fine. Guess who he's going to blame for that,” I explained. 

“You?” I really didn't want to blame myself right now. 

“Do you really think he'd try to come near me after I beat him up on the ring? And I was fighting under the rules,” Sukuna smiled proud of himself for his performance in the fight. 

“Naoya promised me that...". 

“Naoya promised you that he would love you forever and not hurt you and look where you are. Just because you're innocent doesn't mean you're stupid,” Sukuna interrupted me and then turned his back to me. “You better be home by the time I get back,” he demanded before going back to the bar.

“Hey! Sukuna! What about my stuff?!” I shouted for him to stop, but he ignored me and walked into the bar without saying anything else. 

I stood still on the sidewalk while my fingers caressed the keychain. How could someone be so nice and scary at the same time? It was obvious that Sukuna wanted me to be safe, but the way he did it felt like he was doing me a favor instead of actually wanting to help me. “He wants to protect me,” I thought as I realized what he was doing. My heart skipped a beat even though he was no longer in my presence and my cheeks dyed pink just thinking about him. 

“Sukuna sure is a strange man…” I thought out loud as I went on my way to the penthouse. 

Even though I had entered his home before, I couldn't help but be surprised as I walked down the huge carpeted hallway. I arrived in the immense living room that shared the professional kitchen, the 12-person wooden dining room and the contemporary living room surrounded by huge windows that allowed me to see the entire city glowing in the dark night. What it's like to have all the money in the world. 

“I think I'll sleep in the guest room,” I said aloud to test the echo of my new home. “First I must find the guest room,” I planned as I looked at the maze I would be living in.

I avoided the entrance doors because I knew that one of them was Sukuna's room, so I had to go up to the second floor. When I got to the top, I could see through the large windows the indoor pool on the first floor, the bar with karaoke and the small zen garden that divided the rooms. “What songs will he like to sing,” I wondered curiously as I continued my search for my room. A little smile escaped my lips as I imagined Sukuna singing Single Ladies by Beyoncé.

I had finally found the guest room. It had a king-size bed with beige sheets, a small couch to watch TV, its own bathroom and a large empty closet. I dropped my backpack on the small white couch and headed for bed. Before I could throw myself out of exhaustion, I noticed a Victoria's Secret bag at the foot of the bed. My eyes widened as I realized the real reason Sukuna wanted me to come to his house. 

“That fucker is planning to fuck me tonight!” I exclaimed, offended. 

I couldn't believe it, I was really stupid for thinking that Sukuna wanted to protect me. I had escaped from the Zenin just to face a Ryomen. I am so naive for thinking he was different, but he was just another disgusting man who can't see women as equals. I really wanted him to be different. He only fucked me twice, and he already assumes he can do it whenever he wants. I wasn't going to let him. 

I took the things out of the bag to throw it in the trash, but stopped when I saw that it wasn't lingerie, it was a full set of satin pajamas. White pajamas with pink stripes in my size. I covered my face with it from embarrassment. I had misjudged Sukuna, he sure bought me pajamas after I fell asleep naked in his bed the night before. I took off my clothes to put on the soft and comfortable pajamas, they fit me like a glove. I smiled like a fool when I saw myself in the mirror. 

“How cute…" I thought out loud before throwing myself on the bed comfortably. 

Oh.

Quickly, I realized what I had said and stood still, staring at the white glitter ceiling. Did I just say Sukuna was cute? No, he couldn't be. He is a rude, selfish, impatient, serious, self-confident, independent, disciplined, strong, handsome, rich man... I couldn't fall in love with him. I was his trainer, his co-worker. I couldn't like him because he has an amazing body, takes care of me even if he doesn't want to admit it, and kisses me like no one else ever has, right? Right?! 

Oh.

I was in trouble.

Masterlist.

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[agentjazzy]

The Evil Dead Dashboard Simulator

🧍‍♂️ groovyhousewares Follow

YES I got my girlfriend a pretty pretty necklace from a gumball machine and when she sees it she's going to give me so so many kisses :)

(411 Notes)

🐟 fishwantmemenwanttokillme Follow

man, fuck tourists, I was heading to my spot when a car came up and honked at us, all friendly like, so me and buddy waved bc there wasn't anyone else there, but then they YELLED at us???? we were just walking?? wtf did we even DO

#i hope the bridge collapses i hope they all DIE #vent

(4,079 Notes)

🎲 kingofstupidbitches Follow

unethical life pro tip: if you overhear your professor talking about their family cabin that they have, and they have open office hours posted, it's your RIGHT to go check that shit out

they're not gonna be there!! they have papers to grade and other shit to deal with!!! free cabin!!!

🌋 thehillsalsohaveanniceass 📛 Follow

op what are you going to do when you roll up and they're just sitting there

🎲 kingofstupidbitches Follow

lmao his ass is NOT going to be in that cabin 😂 he just got back from a vacation with his family or something (dipshit couldn't wait until break) he's supposed to be at his office and he does NOT have the vacation days to be leaving so soon

(151 Notes)

🌹 pressedflowerpetals Follow

fml my older brother asked if I wanted to tag along on a trip to a cabin and I said sure bc it beats staying at home w/ dad

BUT IT'S A COUPLE TRIP

HE'S BRINGING HIS COWORKER/GIRLFRIEND THAT HE DOESN'T SHUT UP ABOUT, HIS FRIEND IS BRINGING HIS GIRLFRIEND, WHYYYY DID THEY INVITE ME

#if i knew i would've said no 😭 #he didn't even invite his Actual best friend #which SUCKS bc then we could've fooled around when no one was paying attention #huh who said that 😳 #cheryl posting

(4 Notes)

📜 anthroapologist 🦀 Follow

haters will hear you scurrying underneath the bowels of your home and freak out like HELLO where else am I supposed to scurry????

(1,288 Notes)

🔮 shessellingseashells Follow

you ever feel like people Immediately forget your name upon meeting you :(

#i might be too high but i don't think any of these people know my full name #i mean I'm Definitely high #and tried moonshine for the first time #but like. really feeling like an outsider rn

(0 Notes)

🎲 kingofstupidbitches Follow

it's so hard being the only chad amongst nerds, like, I GET IT, you're too much of a pussy to investigate the creepy fucking cellar, the LEAST you can do is let me listen to the tapes I found down there, they're cool as fuck

🎲 kingofstupidbitches Follow

okay and now they're all yelling at me bc a stupid tree broke a window right when the tape got good 😑

🎲 kingofstupidbitches Follow

fuck it, here's a recording of the tape, I hope none of you guys are cowards like all my friends apparently are, have fun bc I can't

(206,089 Notes)

💀 theevilacrosstheland Follow

when someone plays your song you can feel that shit in your SOUL catch me coming towards you at 15mph awoken from my eternal slumber if I hear that first note fr

(6,282 Notes)

🔍 peachycraftsection Follow

my boyfriend spent $14 in quarters attempting to get a magnifying glass necklace from one of those gumball machine toy capsules at work bc he knows I LOVE mysteries and detective stories and I need to [redacted] him in the [redacted] right NOW 💖💖💖

(432 Notes)

🌹 pressedflowerpetals Follow

everyone's making out rn which is REAL inconvenient bc there is Absolutely Something Outside

🌹 pressedflowerpetals Follow

should I check it out

🌹 pressedflowerpetals Follow

there's no one online to tell me no so.....

📝 charcoalfingertips Follow

op you haven't posted in an hour are you okay???

🌹 pressedflowerpetals Follow

I'm Irrevocably Changed Now 👍

(104 Notes)

🌹 deadite420 Follow

I'm just a silly goofy guy if I happened to have killed and maimed and bite and stab that's just who I am and how I show love ^_^

(5,724 Notes)

🔮 deadite68 Follow

coyotes are SO right, if youre trapped somewhere or someone grabs ya, just bite your limb off, no hesitation, show superiority, it's not like THEY'RE gonna do it

(2,051 Notes)

🧍‍♂️ groovyhousewares Follow

whhy is there so muchh blood everywhere........

#help #i accidentally kept my mouthh open and blood got in it :((((( #my head hurts sso bad bookcases kept falling on me

(5 Notes)

🔩 deadite883 Follow

heehee i love crawling through pipes and electrical outlets

(207 Notes)

🎶 8tracksarebetterthancassettes Follow

I logged onto Tumblr and wtf why am I following so many people with deadite in their username? is it a reference? did I miss a meme? are we mishapocolypse-ing again?

🌿 dirtissoyummy Follow

I think it might be a virus transmitted by bots but idk I'm too scared to interact

🤡 thespareshemp Follow

okay I investigated to see if it was a bot swarm or people having fun SO

for the first cluster of blogs, all their IPs are logging from the same location, which usually means a lazy bot swarm BUT I went through all their archives and most of them, before changing urls, interacted with one another naturally and stuff, @-ing one another and junk, and they seem to know each other irl

so it's just friends having fun!! and then people joining in on the fun!! feel free to reblog without fear!

#they're all still posting original content so that's kinda a giveaway #even though it's all 'deadite'fied and all #i wonder if theyre doing an arg thing

(1,004 Notes)

🔍 deadite81 Follow

when men are SOAKED with blood 👌😍🥰😘💖🥰🥰💖😍👌😘😘😘💖💖😍

(20,983 Notes)

🤡 deadite6091 Follow

JOIN US JOIN US JOIN US JOIN US JOHN US JOIN US JOIN US JOIN US JOIN US JOIN US

🛏 honkshoomimi Follow

🤡 deadite6091 Follow

You Will Be Dead By Dawn

(5,732 Notes)

🐟 fishwantmemenwanttokillme Follow

man, fuck tourists, I was heading to my spot when a car came up and honked at us, all friendly like, so me and buddy waved bc there wasn't anyone else there, but then they YELLED at us???? we were just walking?? wtf did we even DO

🥐 evilpillsburydoughboy Follow

hey you live near the state line right? can you check the news real quick

🐟 fishwantmemenwanttokillme Follow

uhhhhhhhhh

🐟 fishwantmemenwanttokillme Follow

WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE BRIDGE IS GONE

🐟 fishwantmemenwanttokillme Follow

fml if any of you need me i'm going to lay down in the cold and let the forest take me

(4,079 Notes)

🛏 deadite7390 Follow

if you were to break me down to my pure essence you would be left with pure, unfiltered evil

also grits

mmmmmm grits

(2,561 Notes)

🎥 deadite3023 Follow

falling down the stairs is the most efficient way to go down them :)

(941 Notes)

🎲 deadite69 Follow

y'all ever open the window and AUGH OUGH UGH UGH UGH AAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAA THE AGONIES and then you adjust to the sunlight and you're fine

(8,091 Notes)

🧍‍♂️ groovyhousewares Follow

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SOMEONE HELP ME

(3 Notes)

[psychedelic-ink]

Ooohh maybe the unresolved sexual tension trope with a bookstore au featuring Javi G?

I LOVED WRITING THIS-- thank you so much for requesting babes!!!

𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

pairing: javi gutierrez x fem!reader

genre: bookshop AU + unresolved sexual tension

word count: 901 i'm still counting this as a drabble lmao

summary: as perfect as working at a bookshop might be, things are always hard when you have a crush on your boss.

warnings: the only description for reader is that she's short--at least shorter than Javi, unresolved sexual tension

a/n: unrelated to the fic but I've been staring at this gif for so long, look at his hands, I'm going to die

For almost all your life it’s been a fantasy of yours to work at a bookshop. 

And honestly, who could blame you? The chocolate scent of books, the dark, candle lit ambiance, the rustic tables set around for those who want to stay and read in peace—all of it prove to be the ideal working environment. It was even better when it rained, the drops so thick that you couldn’t see into the street until the door chimed signaling someone had arrived. 

The only issue, if it was an issue at all, is your ridiculously handsome boss. 

You remember Javi hiring you in a heartbeat, seeing your miserable state and need to belong. He was kind to you. His soft coffee eyes and tender smile burrowing into your heart as the days passed you by. You were the only employee, other than Nicolas Cage the black cat (you called him Nico for short), so the two of you end up spending a lot of time together. Obviously, you had no complaint. 

Now, months later, your heart is heavy with undisclosed emotions as you attempt to do your job. The boxes are heavy, and you have a bad habit of not asking for help. You rise up on your toes, gripping the box tightly and lifting it over your head. With the tips of your fingers, you try to gain leverage to slide the box onto the top shelf. Your shirt slides up, exposing the softness of your stomach, the uncharacteristically cold air making you shudder. You grunt, sweat beading at your temples. 

Cold fear rakes down your spine when you feel the box’s weight shift, pulling you off balance. You try to regain your footing, but gravity proves too strong. The world around you slows, the box slips from your grasp and begins to fall.  You reach out, your fingers outstretched, hoping to catch the falling box before it's too late. Your fingertips graze the edge of the box, but it's not enough. 

Then you feel him behind you. 

Javi is there, his strong arms wrapping around your waist in a fleeting moment, pulling you close. You watch  wide-eyed as he reaches over your head, his large hands covering your own, and steadies the heavy box. 

His touch sends shivers down your spine, and you feel the heat of his body pressed against your back. Relief washes over you, the weight of the box lifting off your shoulders. His eyes are fixed on the box. The muscles in his arms tense as he carefully sets the box on the shelf, taking care to ensure it's secure. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, his breath hot on your neck.

You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat. He doesn’t move away and rests his hands against the shelf across from you, caging you in. Your heart is beating a mile a minute. He’s so close. Too close. In the distance, you hear the soft paws of Nico moving around. Then, with uncertainty, you turn, your back against the millions of books as you look up to face him. 

The air is knocked from your lungs. He’s gorgeous. The fading sunlight streams through the bookshelf behind him, his hair a luscious honey brown. You want to dive your fingers into it. Your gaze drops to his neck, the color of his skin a shade darker. You swallow and lick your lips. He’s so broad—towering. His eyes flit across your face, stopping at your lips that glisten. Javi’s mouth forms a tight line. You want nothing more than for him to close the distance, kiss you stupid, but you know he won’t. 

And you’re too much of a coward to do it yourself. 

“Thank you,” you say, verbalizing what the nod meant. Your voice cracks at the end. His gaze gradually travels up and locks with yours. You might be imagining it, but you swear his arms move closer, his warm skin ghosting over your cheeks. 

“You need to be more careful, mi pequeña ayudante. I do not want you getting hurt.” 

He always calls you that. My little helper. At first, you thought he was mocking your height, but you’ve grown fond of the endearment. 

You don’t answer him. The air crackling as liquid heat rolls down your spine. You have the constant need to wet your lips and fight against the urge. His breathing grows heavy, his body seemingly closer. You think he’s leaning in. Your heart flutters, arousal pooling between your legs. His knee gently nudges your thigh apart, a sigh leaving your lips as soon as you feel his knee against your sex. You can almost taste him—the coffee from morning, the pie he ate…

You both jump and part away with the bell chiming, the damn thing louder than usual. Javi holds your gaze until the customer calls out, then, with a look between regret and relief, he makes his way to the shop's entrance.

Clumsily, you collect yourself. You pull down your sweater and shift from one leg to the other, ignoring the sharp jolt of pleasure rolling over you with the friction. Then you touch your bottom lip. The taste was so vivid in the seconds that passed. You have half the mind to believe that he did, in fact, kiss you. The sensation lingered on your lips and the back of your tongue, as if he had left a physical mark on you.

But he hadn’t. 

[jonathan-samuel-smith]

TW bipolar discussion and nonconsensual kissing, mental health discussion

So about Saturn Girl kissing Jon without his ability to consent to it: I get that she isn't actively deciding to mind control the people around her, but she does have a choice in the matter. Her family wanted her to stay home until she could control her mind control powers, but she didn't want to and left. To me that's like if I noticed I was manic (not hypomanic) and didn't go to the mental hospital... Like I can't control my bipolar but I have the choice to stay away from others when it would harm them. That's not even a good comparison though because my judgement isn't clear enough to consistently do that when I'm manic, whereas she is at baseline and is able to think rationally. I wouldn't blame someone with bipolar because they have no choice, but I'm just saying the obvious choice would be to keep yourself away from others even if it's not fun for you. I feel like I can blame her, because she has a choice.

I do sympathize with her, but I really think she's hurting others disproportionately to the distress she feels stuck at home, and that's not okay.

If you look back on the events with the knowledge that she can't turn off her mind control, you see how manipulative she is, especially to Jon, and she does high-control group tactics: love bombing, isolation, guilt tripping, not letting him have rest alone where he would have time to realize he didn't want this.

I don't like the JonDami narrative that Jon was an asshole for leaving Damian in the past or was running away from his problems, because in my view he was dragged into a cult and I can't blame him for that, especially because he was extremely vulnerable at the time. I also don't believe Jon would have left in the first place if he knew up front that he couldn't bring Damian to at least visit him.

Jon had been in a state of fight or flight for around 6 years (not just talking about the volcano because there was also his verbally abusive grandpa and their deadly adventures and being trapped in space, and then him struggling to survive on the streets and trying to find a way home after he escaped) and the first time he really got a chance to cool down was when he was talking with Damian. He really needs a long break, therapy, and medication because what he went through can't be treated with therapy alone as the stress has chemical effects in the brain that need to be adjusted.

The writers don't care about how Jon should be extremely hypervigilant and defensive and anxious. I guess that's just not brave enough for a superhero, nevermind that leaving the house and getting treatment for these things, learning to trust again, and letting people help you is so much braver than punching guys when you have superpowers. It's natural to fight when your fight or flight is activated in a protective manner, but doing the logical thing when every signal in your body is telling you not to is really damn hard. The only coward is DC for giving Jon trauma and not actually writing a traumatized character.

That all being said, Damian clearly doesn't see how Jon is being manipulated, probably because his head is full of self hatred & doubting & repressed desires to ask Jon to stay, and thinks he needs to go against his abandonment trauma by swinging the pendulum too far in the opposite direction in his speech. With his c-ptsd and abandonment issues I can see him becoming bitter towards Jon for going to the future.

That could make for a really complex fanfiction, don't you think? The conflict coming from their unique life experiences and traumas, and them learning to understand each other like they're always doing. This misunderstanding of intentions born not out of something dumb like hearing the wrong thing or being unclear in language, but from their different points of view.

My jondami au where Jon leaves the legion early is calling me lmao "Isaac we have more problems for you to fix~"

That being said I have no exclusivity to these ideas for writing.

[doubledyke]

What do you think would happen immediately after BPS? How would all the parents personaly react to their disappeared and returning children? The kids would really ever throw a party, or just have to fix all the wrecks and be grounded? And Edd and Eddy would even have a face-to-face good conversation about their adventure and what they learned?

I think Eddy would need a validation from Edd more than ever, and the fear they could have lost each other would let them even more attached.

i had detailed ass theories written out for each kid as to what lies they could tell their parents and what the likelihood was that they'd be believed, etc. and then i realized that it could all be solved with a simple phone call from one parent to another lmao. and lbr, the chances that someone's kid is gonna be gone all night and they're not gonna flip the fuck out are slim to none. outside of a couple exceptions of course. i felt like a moron so i didn't include it here. i guess i like to pick and choose when to adhere to cartoon logic 😂

anyway i do think the non-ed kids would get into trouble and be grounded for varying lengths of time. they might have just enough time to have a little kiki in the lane before heading home and getting dragged inside by the ear/bear hugged/further ignored.

one exception might be rolf, because i don't think it'd be entirely out of the norm for him to be gone all night on occasion. maybe he had an urban ranger camping trip that his nana forgot to tell his parents about, or had to chase down an escaped animal into the wee hours of the morning. he enters the house, clearly disheveled and sweating nervously, but probably gets nothing but a fine howdy do from everyone inside.

eddy would be grounded for a comically short period of time because he's a spoiled brat. a couple of days tops. it's really only an attempt by his parents to appease the angry mob. all the other parents know he's the little shit stirring ring leader and berate his guardians accordingly. regarding his absence, he tells them he and the boys rode out the storm in the van and that they were fine. he accepts his punishment because telling them what really happened means telling them he visited his brother and that WOULD get his ass in big trouble. legal stuff, you know. as far as any takeaway he might have... let's be real here, eddy's still the same ole eddy at this point. i don't think the full weight of what just happened has hit him quite yet. he's still reeling about being invited to kev's for jawbreakers and whatever else preteens who don't really like each other do for funsies. i do think that while he's spending aaaaaall that time alone (again, 2 days max), in between trying on outfits for that party at kevin's, the image of edd standing up to his brother does cross his mind. edd, the coward. edd the wimp, stood up to his tormentor. and got swiftly beaten into the ground for it. yet still ran over to make sure he was okay after ed essentially saved his life. ed the dolt. ed the idiot was the one to think of pulling out the pin (literally), and blasting his abuser with a face full of door. i think the guilt, shame and embarrassment would hit him hard, along with a lot of weird mushy stuff that he doesn't really know what to do with. so he doesn't do anything with it. not immediately anyway. but i've already talked about post bps eddy a bit so i'll leave it at that.

i've seen people say that edd's parents wouldn't even notice that he was gone overnight, because... so were they. and yall know i'm the #1 hater of edd's parents so of course i agree lol. if word gets back to them somehow though, i imagine them being very passive aggressive about it. shocking, i know. i feel like they'd go their usual route and punish him by not talking to him - as in not even leaving sticky notes around the house. except for one that says something along the lines of "dear eddward, you are not to leave the house today, as you are hereby grounded until further notice." along with a scroll of chores of course. but yeah they make him wait around and wonder when he'll be able to see his friends again. probably a good few weeks or so. i've always had the headcanon that eddy would be banned from edd's house and maybe this is when that happens as well. if word doesn't get back to them- which is more likely imo because they're so elusive that no one knows how to contact them - i think edd could likely have a bit of a meltdown over their indifference. not to mention the guilt he feels in either scenario. for starters, he feels like he simply must tell someone what he's just witnessed- especially as a future mandated reporter... nah i'm kidding but i do think he'd want to tell an adult what happened to his dearest friend. but he knows it would only compound eddy's grief. outside of that, there's the fact that he feels that he never received a comeuppance of his own. eddy got thrashed by his so-called "hero" in front of his peers, and if his previous punishments are any indication, ed is very likely enduring what can only be described as suburban confinement for the foreseeable future. he, on the other hand, has gotten away with a horrible deed, with more than a year's worth of horrible deeds without so much as a scowl from his parents. he has to fight tooth and nail to resist his compulsion to confess his wrong doing, directly this time. cuz the confessional he wrote at the beginning of this ordeal is still on his desk when he gets home. it's kind of like when people say "at least if you're angry, i know you care", but magnified 100x for his entire life. i think this is when the switch kinda flips for him and he has to come to terms with the fact that his parents are at best, extremely cold and aloof. and at worst, knowingly neglectful. either will be hard for him to accept of course, because he's got an image in his mind already of what "true" neglect looks like:

ed's going in the hole, man. it's the cliche where his parents fawn over sarah and are so thankful that she's okay and "you had us worried sick, missy". only to turn to their other child who was also missing for 24 hours and proceed with the finger wagging and reprimanding. i don't think sarah would rat him out though. in fact at this point she might even try to stick up for her now suddenly not so bad older brother. but to no avail. in fact, it makes his mom angrier - she must have hit her head if she's sticking up for her troublemaking brother. "you see, edward? your erratic behavior has finally landed your little sister in the hospital. hope it was worth it." as far as they're concerned, ed put sarah in grave danger by running away. he was a terrible influence, and for that he's gotta be made an example of... to himself? i'm gonna venture a guess here that dad'll be taking the stairs again. he also boards up the basement window. they take his tv, his tapes, his comics, and all his model making supplies. his mom wanted to take his gravy tub but dad insisted it was too much of a hassle. luckily for him though, they can't take that vivid imagination of his. he spends the next two weeks staring at the ceiling, coming up with a storyline for his own comic, which he starts working on as soon as his belongings are returned. it ends up being sooner than he anticipated. he was told it'd be a month, but his mom is sick of looking at the box of his crap in their bedroom closet, so he's off the hook early. lucky feller. next time he runs away though, he's making extra sure sarah doesn't follow.

obviously i think edd and eddy, really all three eds are going to be even closer than they were before their little excursion. but i think it takes time for eddy to mature enough to truly grasp how meaningful it all was. like he knows, but admitting it is corny af. edd is probably gonna be so preoccupied with deconstructing his relationship with his parents that he's a somewhat aloof for a period. there's also a rumbling within ed, especially after seeing sarah's attempt at defending him. i don't really know what conclusion he comes to except that if he wants even a chance at having a good relationship with his sister, he's gotta get the fuck out of there asap. i do think he'd start "running away" more often, possibly staying with eddward during his burgeoning rebellion, or from time to time, eddy. maybe even rolf. he might also sleep in the van when the weather allows. anything to be away from that hell hole. i wrote in my fic that he'd move out and live with may at age like, 17 i think? literally as soon as possible lol.

[lightbulb-warning]

platonic rarepairs ough,,,i think the first two i think of are tenko&shuuichi and himiko&tsumugi! i latched on to tenko&shuuichi right after the first trial when tenko threatens to beat kaito's ass for punching shuuichi (she seems to have a real soft spot for sad wet cat people. also LMAO) and there's this optional side conversation after shuuichi walks into the dining room without his hat where she says the others were insensitive by asking about something that should be kept between him and kaede, and she'll help carry on kaede's wish too and shuuichi has this soft little smile and!!! AUGH!!!!!!!!! their FTEs and love hotel together mean NOTHING to me they're so much more endearing in the main story. friends!!

as for himiko&tsumugi - i cannot for the *life* of me find it, but i swear there's this bit in one of the trials where she says she'll silence someone with a spell called the DEATH SPELL and tsumugi says 'um, well, i suppose being dead would silence someone pretty good!' and it made me laugh so hard i immediately latched on to them. i think a lot abt them hanging out on the sidelines,,making costumes together, talking about magical girl anime, becoming even closer once they joined the student council - and tsumugi being himiko's closest friend left by ch6. it would make the betrayal more impactful i think.

as for romantic rarepairs - i don't wanna say akasaiou since that just consists of three decently popular ships, so! i've been thinking a lot about gokutoujou lately :] gonta complimenting kirumi's spiderweb patterns and telling her she reminds him of a spider,,,kirumi being unafraid of gonta or his bug friends,,,formal dancing lessons that slowly transition into lazy circles as kirumi happily listens to him tell her about a cool beetle he found ○|￣|_ they're so soft. i just want them to fall in love as they realize the other wants them for THEM, not for any service they can provide.

i'll stop here because this became insanely long but. IF YOU EVER WANT MORE RAREPAIR RANTS I AM H E R E AND I AM FULL OF THOUGHTS

YES?? GOOD FOOD!! SUBLIME THOUGHTS YOU'VE GOT THERE!!!!!!!! hand over the rest of your rants, COWARD!!/lh

had a lot of fun with these, thank you for aiding me in my quest!! >:D

[ask-ursa-tonypeter]

Oh man, okay so that Peter snatching ask, I feel like I neeeed more of that. How would Tony even explain Pyrite!Peter’s new situation to him? Would he even tell Pyrite Peter about DB!Peter? Aksdkfniend I don’t know if you want to go more into detail about this because it’s technically not a fic of yours so feel free to ignore this ask if this isn’t the direction you want to go with these, I’m just infinitely curious about the scenario written in that ask and figured it didn’t hurt to shoot my shot here, so to speak.

[[in reference to this ask and then this ask-- not only did it not hurt to shoot your shot, I wrote a whole-ass fic about it, lmao. CWs for abduction/long-term captivity, gentle noncon and general very 💖loving and tender💖 emotional abuse, and all of the psychological trauma that goes with it-- but there's a hopeful ending! (Also, daddykink, which I can apparently only tolerate if one of the characters in question hates it, lmao.)]]

This older Tony told him that he was picked because he's special, but Peter isn't stupid. In the brief glimpse he was allowed to see of the other Peters out there on that monitor, he noticed that most of them were older. Stronger. Actually special.

And he sees the way that this Tony looks at him. Peter wouldn't have noticed it before, probably, but it was the same expression that his brother wore when they were… together. Dark, heated, focused. Peter had loved the attention from his brother, but it scares him from this man. He's constantly on edge, waiting for the moment that petting hands or a tender kiss might slip somewhere unbearable, like being prepared will somehow give him a way to stop it.

He knows it won't, of course. He knows he can't.

He can't stop anything.

This Tony wants Peter to call him 'Dad.' Peter tries to protest, tries to say that he already has a dad, that it's strange when his own Tony is his brother instead. But Tony insists– says that he'll be a better father to Peter than Howard Stark ever was, that Peter doesn't need a brother when he has a father like Tony instead, that his brother was never any good to him anyway.

It makes Peter regret every single time he's ever complained about his dad and every single time he ever felt ignored by his brother, and he tells Tony that, that he loves his family even if they're not perfect and he misses his mom and that he wants to go home.

But this Tony doesn't care about his tears, and Peter is afraid of him, so Tony gets his way.

That's always how it goes. Peter cries, he begs, he asks to go home. When he's at his most desperate and selfish and awful, he asks for Tony to take someone else instead. And Tony holds him and pets him and coos and hums and murmurs that everything will be okay, and he just needs time to adjust, and that he's perfect. That Tony could never let him go.

Peter knows that he means it, and Tony never seems to realize that it only makes him cry harder. But in the end Peter always ends up leaning heavily into his arms, sniffling and exhausted and cried-out, so maybe it's his fault for sending mixed messages.

He does try to make the best of it, after all. He knows it makes him a coward, and that he should fight and scream and try to make this Tony's life hell until he does give Peter up, like rehoming a bad dog. But he can't, because he's not brave, so instead he sets the table and makes suggestions for dinner and smiles at Tony's jokes and picks out movies to watch from under the arm of this man who is not his father and not his brother but who he still calls 'Dad.'

"Good choice, baby," Tony says with a smile when Peter picks out Die Hard for movie night, and Peter hates the warm, pathetic glow of satisfaction that swells in his chest at the praise. But it's better than being scared, so Peter will take it, even if it makes him feel just as cheap and slimy as the actual sex.

It doesn't take long for that to start, though it's longer than Peter expects. A few weeks, maybe, though Peter's sense of time isn't great anymore. Tony had already slipped into his bed even as early as that first night, with the excuse of comforting Peter while he cried– "oh, sweetheart, don't cry, you'll be okay," he'd crooned, pressing kisses to Peter's hair while he flinched, "you'll love it here, you'll see,"– but then he never stopped, even once Peter stopped crying himself to sleep.

So one morning it happens, inevitable. Tony's wrist brushes too low when he's untangling himself from Peter as they wake, and Peter can't bite back his gasp at the pressure against his morning wood, and before he knows it there's a hand around him and lips against his neck and a warm, morning-rough voice muttering, "Let me take care of that for you, sweetheart."

Peter tries to stop it. He does. He does.

But when he gasps, "Dad, wait, please stop," Tony only murmurs, "Shh, relax, honey," and in the end it's like everything else.

Tony is always gentle with him. It's a strange contrast to his brother, who called him filthy things and teased him until he was so red he thought he might pass out and could be rough with him when Peter asked for it. Peter liked that, yeah, but he had always wished that his brother would kiss him sweetly and tell him he loved him, too.

It's disorienting to have those daydreams come to life in the form of this other, twisted version of his brother. Peter tries to close his eyes as Tony moves inside him and take what comfort he can in the soft touches and endless praise, and sometimes it works, and sometimes it puts a pit in his stomach to think he ever wanted this from his brother at all.

Even outside of bed, it messes with Peter's head the way that Tony's so nice. It makes it too easy to sink into the lie sometimes, when he's allowed to wander the familiar penthouse suite of Stark Tower instead of being locked in some basement, when Tony remembers all of his favorite treats and movies, when Tony spoils him rotten and tells him he's perfect and never, ever loses his patience.

(Even when Peter does. Even when Peter has one of his embarrassing episodes where he loses his mind and beats his fists against Tony's chest and scratches and bites until he tastes blood, Tony just holds him and sighs "I know, baby, I know," until Peter is spent. He never even raises his voice.

But he does cry sometimes. It makes Peter feel guilty, and then mad at himself for feeling guilty, and then he gets so confused that he just lets Tony bundle him away for a nap like he really is a tantruming five-year-old. Every time he wakes up he's mortified, but Tony never scolds him like he deserves. He's just sweet and gentle and forgiving, and he lets Peter sink right back into the comfort of the lie.)

Peter wonders if Tony was kind to the other Peter. He resents him sometimes, even though he knows it's not fair. It's not the other Peter's fault that he died, or that his dad is… like this. It's not the other Peter's fault that Tony picked Peter out of all the options. But even still, sometimes he thinks 'if you were still here, then I wouldn't be,' and there's some satisfaction in having someone to blame who he doesn't have to share a bed with.

But mostly– mostly he wonders about the other Peter's life. Sometimes Tony will cling to him and apologize over and over again like he can't hear Peter at all, and Peter wonders if he was mean to the other Peter while he was alive, or if he was sleeping with his actual son, too, or if he blames himself somehow for the way that he died. JARVIS won't tell him what happened, and he's too afraid to ask Tony.

But it wasn't a secret, he knows. Even if he can't find any mention of the original Peter Stark's death online, other people have to know about it, because none of Tony's employees can stand to look at him.

He wonders what they know. Do they think he's some kind of Frankenstein's monster? Do they know he's been kidnapped? Do they think he's just an uncanny lookalike, or do they know about the machine in Tony's personal lab?

(Or do they just know exactly how close their boss is to his son, Peter thinks sometimes, and it makes him want to never come out of his room.)

Or maybe they're just afraid that if they look, Tony will see something on their faces that he doesn't like, because–

He may always be gentle with Peter, but Tony is not a kind man.

He still rarely raises his voice. When he's angry with someone, his voice goes flat and ice-cold and the room gets so quiet it feels like even breathing would be too loud.

He always sends Peter out of the room before he kills someone. It's the only time anyone will look at him, their eyes wild and pleading for Peter to stay like that would save them, but by then it's Peter who can't bear to look.

Peter hates himself for the way that he shakes for hours afterward instead of doing something. He hates himself for the way that he crawls into Tony's lap once they get home, the way he tips his face up for a kiss, all so he can hear Tony say–

"I'm sorry, baby." Rough stubble prickling at Peter's temple, his cheek, his chin. "You know I would never hurt you, don't you? Never."

"I know," Peter whispers, and by the time they're done and Tony has made him come at least twice and told him again and again that he loves him, that he's perfect, that he's the only thing that matters, it will almost feel true.

(Peter thinks about the other Peters on that monitor, and how so many of them were strong and brave and stood up to people just like Tony, and he wonders how the other Peter died.)

He does save someone though, he thinks. Just once. He can't know for sure, because it's not one of the men that regularly comes to meet Tony at the tower, but he thinks maybe he helped.

The man is making excuses. He's in charge of one of Tony's projects, and he says that Tony gave him permission to take time off to take care of his mother after a surgery, and that's why the project is behind schedule. Tony doesn't remember and doesn't care and he gets angrier with every word out of the man's mouth, and eventually he stands, those silver tendrils exploding out of his suit to grapple the man down over his desk while he wails and pleads.

Tony takes a breath, and Peter knows he's going to tell Peter to leave the room, and he abruptly can't stand it.

"Daddy, don't," he says, the babyish word coming out in his desperate horror without him meaning to say it, and he hugs Tony around the waist like that means anything, like he can stop anything, like he's a version of himself that's actually strong.

Tony freezes, and for the length of what feels like a hundred rabbiting heartbeats Peter is terrified. He's never stood up to Tony in front of his men. He's barely stood up to him at all, and it never leads to anything anyway, and he suddenly doesn't know why he stuck himself out for this stranger who Tony is probably just going to kill anyway but this man has a family and Peter misses his mom so much he can barely breathe and he can't keep doing nothing he can't he can't he can't–

Tony turns gently in his grip, because Peter can't stop him, and Peter keeps his face buried against Tony's shoulder. He can still hear the sound of the man whimpering quietly from where he's pinned to the desk by Tony's tendrils, and he flinches when the weight of Tony's hand settles on his hair, gentle.

"Oh, sweetheart," Tony breathes, his voice strange– revelatory, tender, almost delighted. "Did Daddy scare you?"

The room is quiet. Peter is painfully aware of every other person listening– the guards by the door, the man on the desk, gasping in shaky breaths now instead of whimpering.

He can feel the weight of something important shifting, shifting, shifting when he nods his head, and the finality of something new settling into place when Tony wraps his arms around him.

"Get out," Tony says over his shoulder, and there's a clatter of noise as the man scrambles to the door. Tony adds, "You too," to the guards, and when the door clicks closed they're alone.

Peter shudders in Tony's arms, his body not able to reconcile the combination of relief and deep, primal fear coursing through his veins, and Tony clicks his tongue, pressing a kiss to the top of Peter's head.

"You really don't like coming to work with me, do you," he sighs, rubbing Peter's back. "I'm sorry, baby. You told me that, and I didn't listen."

He reaches to cup both sides of Peter's face, so Peter finally has to look up at him. He looks perfectly sweet, warm and fond and apologetic, and the contrast from his anger moments earlier is dizzying.

Tony strokes his thumbs tenderly over Peter's cheeks, and sighs one more time before he says, "All right, sweetie. If you promise that you'll be good, I'll let you stay in your room while I'm gone, okay? If that's really what you want."

It's so unexpected that it takes Peter a moment to understand that this is a compromise. Tony has never offered one before, and Peter had learned to stop asking a long time ago.

He rushes to gasp, "Yes– yes, please," and then, spontaneous and uncertain and thinking, adds, "Thank you, Daddy."

Tony smiles, and the chill it sends through Peter is anticipation just as much as disgust. Tony takes him upstairs to the penthouse then, and takes the entire rest of the day off work to make up for scaring him. It's almost nice, really, and if Peter doesn't like it when Tony tells him 'Daddy's got you' and 'that's right, let Daddy take care of you' in bed, it's still worth it, because–

The next day Peter gets to have four whole hours to himself until lunchtime, and then another four whole hours after that, and he can't remember the last time he didn't spend the whole day with Tony.

Things change after that.

Before, any protests Peter made would get shushed and brushed aside, Tony always gentle but never permissive. He would say that he knew best, that Peter would be okay, that Peter's way wouldn't work, and he would go on like Peter hadn't said anything at all. Requests were usually easier, Tony happy to bury Peter in gifts, but as for experiences– Tony's sense of what was too risky for Peter was broad and paranoid and stifling, and now–

It's shocking having a way to get Tony to listen to him, and Peter tries not to let it go to his head. He's careful. He doesn't ask for too much. He sprinkles in petty requests to throw off the scent of when he really, really wants something so it can't be used against him.

He acts like he really is all those dirty things his brother used to call him, and he bats his eyelashes and pouts and fawns, and he says "Daddy, please?" and "Can I, Daddy?" and "Daddy, I don't want to," and he gets what he wants.

But he knows just that won't be enough for what he really wants. Not by itself. He can't just stick out his bottom lip and simper his way into where he wants to go, so he'll need to add something else.

And Peter will give Tony this: for all that his obsession with his "son" is twisted and wrong, he really does seem to care more about making Peter come than himself. He always takes Peter in his mouth like it's a treat, but the first time Peter slides to his knees in front of him, he looks so shocked that it honestly seems like he hasn't even thought about it before.

"Petey," he says, ghosting his fingers over Peter's hair while Peter draws him out of his pants. "You don't have to do that if you don't want to, sweetie."

Peter knows it's part of why Tony is so sweet to him, but it irritates him sometimes when Tony acts like he actually buys the whole innocent lamb act, like he doesn't fuck Peter at least twice a day himself. Tony knows about Peter's brother, he knows Peter's done this before; Peter's even pretty sure it's part of why Tony picked him.

Peter takes a breath and pushes it all down, down, down, and he reaches for the part of himself that means it when he says, "I want to, Daddy."

He leans in, and if it's more bitter than he remembers– well, the aftermath is what's sweet.

It's hard to keep the request behind his teeth while Tony fawns over him after, showering him in kisses and praise and making him come so many times that Peter finally has to protest, "Daddy, no more," sluggish and sensitive and overheated.

But he wants Tony to think it's his idea, so he waits until finally, finally–

Tony chuckles and nuzzles in to kiss Peter's cheek, and he murmurs, "Okay, okay, baby. I just want to make you feel good after you were so good to me. What else can I do for you, hmm?"

Peter bites his lip and looks away, and it's not all playing shy. He's nervous, and he's really not sure how Tony is going to react, and if Tony squashes his hopes here– he can't think about that.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Tony croons, pushing back Peter's sweaty curls and kissing his forehead. "You can tell me, Petey; I know you've got something in mind."

"Can I–" Peter hesitates, and he'd like to say he's playing it up, but the way his eyes go wide and desperate and shiny is all real. "Daddy, can I… can I please see the monitor again? Please? I want… I want to see Grandma."

He doesn't know if it's a step too far and too false to call her that. Maria Stark would be his grandmother if he was actually Tony's son, and he's trying to– give a show of good faith, that even if he's still thinking about his real family he's accepted the false reality that Tony's made for them. His heart hammers in his chest while he waits to find out, and–

Tony sucks in a breath, staring at Peter in shock for the second time that night, but this time his expression resolves into regret and apology.

"Honey," he says softly, and Peter wants to scream, "I don't know if that would be the best thing for you. I think it'll make you sad, sweetheart."

No, Peter wants to say, but contradicting Tony will just make him dig in his heels, so instead he says, "I-I know, I know it will, but that's okay. It'll make me happy, too. Like getting older, right?"

He throws it in, a last-minute ad-lib; Tony jokes all the time about how sad it makes him to see Peter get older even though he's glad that Peter's growing up so sweet. It's a hit– Tony smiles, rueful, and Peter presses his advantage. He links his arms behind Tony's neck, cuddling close, all entirely-real doe eyes and quivering lips when he asks, "Daddy, please let me. Please?"

Tony sighs, and he leans in to scatter kisses over Peter's face when he murmurs, "You're getting too sweet for me, baby. All right, if you're sure that's what you want."

Peter's heart soars, and when he pulls Tony into a kiss he doesn't even have to fake enjoying it.

They go the next day. Tony is still reluctant about it, but he doesn't try to back out, and so they make their way to his private lab after breakfast.

It hits Peter harder than he expected. He knew it would make him sad, but he was imagining his mother bright and vibrant and happy. He barely recognizes the haggard woman on the screen, grayer than he left her and exhausted with grief, and it makes him cry so hard he can barely breathe.

"I told you, sweetheart," Tony sighs, rubbing Peter's back and stroking his hair, but he doesn't try to rush him out of the room early. "This is too hard for you, baby."

"I'm okay," Peter forces out between tears, because he can't lose access to this. "I w-wanted this. I'm s-so happy to see her. Thank you, Daddy."

It's going to be hard to play at being cheerful the rest of the day, he knows, but he'll have to if he wants Tony to ever let him come back to this room. Because even despite his tears, he did get what he was actually after: he watched how Tony selected a universe from the massive, awe-inspiring constellation of choices, and he memorized the coordinates that Tony punched in to pull up his true home.

And if he's ever going to get an opportunity to use them, he needs to get back in that room.

He makes it work. He's extra-sweet all day long, enough to curb Tony's concerns about the effect of their field trip on his mood, and he keeps it up after that. He pulls Tony into kisses and buttons his shirts for him in the morning. He pushes Tony back to ride him after work, their hands clasped together between them. He gets on his knees, he wakes Tony in the morning with a warm hand or slick mouth, he waits for Tony at lunchtime wearing one of his dress shirts and nothing else.

He's afraid at first that Tony might be put off by his new boldness, or at least suspicious, but Tony swallows the bait whole. He seems delighted that Peter is finally settling into his new life, eager to believe that Peter really has just grown more comfortable and mature in their relationship over time, and he even starts to trust Peter more. It's not even something that Peter asks for, but a week or two into his change of attitude, Tony gives him permission to access the rest of the suite while Tony's at work.

And that's not Peter's goal, but it does have some potential.

He does get to go back to the private lab. Peter doesn't ask for it every time, or even every other time, but Tony doesn't even hesitate to say yes, now. Peter plays up his excitement of the idea of the multiverse and of Tony's genius for making the machine; he plays up his interest in the other Peters; he checks in on his family.

And he watches the way Tony uses the monitor. He examines the construction of the machine. He pays attention to what features Tony uses when he navigates the 'verse map, and more than that, he pays attention to what features Tony avoids ever using in front of him.

He figures out slowly that his first plan won't work. As far as he can glean, the machine isn't built to have a way to send people back, and he knows he's not smart enough to figure out how to build that feature. He's smart, but even though the year on the calendar isn't even a full two decades ahead of Peter's actual universe, the technology may as well be a century more advanced– if the machine can only pull people to this universe, he isn't going to fool himself that he can change that by himself.

But still, every time he's in that room, he watches, and he thinks. He watches how Tony grows less attentive to his every move, more complacent in the idea that Peter is happy with their life. He watches how every day Tony gets closer to giving him permission to go to the lab by himself– it's not like he can use the machine to leave, after all. He watches how JARVIS sometimes lets him get away with things for a beat longer than he should, if Peter can make it look enough like an accident.

And he still watches the other Peters on the monitor. The ones that are older. The ones that are geniuses. The ones that save their cities from men like Tony. The ones that save the world.

Peter's not strong. He's not brave. He's not special.

He can't stop anything.

But he thinks he knows who can.

[shiftingparadise]

Hey, I’m unsure if you still write for MHA but I’d love a comfort fic/drabble about a reader who’s struggling with guilt and bad thoughts, to eventually get some support from Dabi? I’ve been struggling a lot so much lmao

I'm so sorry to hear you've been struggling. It's been a long time since I've written anything. So forgive me if it's not as good but I hope you like it. I'm here if you want to talk.

Warnings: none

Word count: 1776

“It’s my fault”, your voice shaking. “It’s my fault, right?”, your head now resting against the wall behind you. “It’s my fault that they’re-“. A sentence you fail to say out loud. A stinging sensation greeted your eyes. You were sitting in an ally, your hands resting on your knees as little clouds left your lips. It was a cold night and even though your mind failed to notice the cold, your body did. Leaving you shaking, your teeth grinding on each other. Were you angry or sad? Probably both. It was unfair. The way Deku didn’t flinch, the way Bakugo grinned, … All why you were frozen in place. Too scared to save the lives of innocent people. What kind of hero were you? A joke. That’s what you are. “I hate them”, tears now flooded your eyes. “I hate the way things are so easy for them, the way they always seem to save everyone while I’ve worked so hard for this. I’m not a pro hero. I’m a joke, a coward-“.

He knew you hadn’t noticed. His staring eyes. The way he was leaning against the wall just a little bit further. If it were someone else, he’d probably would’ve laughed, or done something to upset them even more. Probably killed them eventually if they’d dare to talk back to him but… You looked so ‘good’. So, innocent. As if you hadn’t done anything wrong in your entire life. And the way your tears were dripping down your cute nose, the way you cutely rubbed the palm of your hand on your eyelids… Not to mention your voice. So soft, so ‘good’. There wasn’t any other way he could put it. You seemed ‘good’ and here you were, talking down on yourself like that just because you couldn’t be like them. A feeling he understood all too well. The feeling of not being good enough.

“Why? Why am I like this?”, your eyes darted to the sky. Desperately searching for an answer. “If I just swooped in, if I just managed to move my feet they would’ve been saved. They would’ve been able to return to their families, their loved ones… I hate myself”, your sobs getting louder, not caring about your surrounding anymore. Because it hurt. The feeling in your chest, the way you could hardly breathe anymore. “I hate myself and everyone else does too, right?”, your eyes still looking at the sky, hoping someone would talk back. “That’s why I’m always alone. Why I don’t have any friends”. Right, this wasn’t just about the lost lives. It was about your hurt. About everything that you tried to bury in your past.

Alone. He was always alone. He never had anyone. He knew the way you felt. The desperation, the sense of hopelessness.

“You’re not alone”, a raspy voice travelled through the air and startling you.

“Creep”, the word flashed before his eyes. You were crying about being alone, thinking you were alone in that ally. Probably one of the times you even wanted to be alone, and this is what he chose to say? Not even a hello? Or a dry cough to let you know someone was there.

“W-who are you?”, you narrowed your eyes, not bothering to wipe your tears. The darkness around you made it hard for you to see. “No one”, the voice replied.

He already regretted this. That he let you know someone was there. That he was there.

“If you’re too scared to speak, then don’t bother letting me know you’re here”, you turned your head to the side.

Scared? He wasn’t scared, right?

“Then don’t cry in the middle of an ally”, a snappy remark that he immediately regretted. “Well, I’m sorry that I bothered you”, you quietly replied. Your heart felt heavy. The last thing you needed was a stranger that made you feel even worse.

“You didn’t bother me”, the voice sounded almost desperate. “I-I guess I’m… sorry?”.

Did he just apologize? Or tried to anyway.

“Who are you?”, you knew that voice. You heard it on the TV once, right? But if you were right then… “No one”, he repeated himself.

He noticed the way your breathing got heavier. The way you tensed your entire body.

“No one you should be scared off”, his hands now in his pockets, his eyes closed.

Hate. Once again, the word flashed before his eyes. He hated himself.

“I know who you are”, you tried to relax your body. For some reason you believed him. Even though a murderer was standing practically next to you. But you were one too, right? You didn’t hurt people on purpose, but you failed to save them while you were standing so close. Wasn’t that even worse?

“Then why don’t you kill me?”, his voice sounded cold.

“I don’t know”, your teeth digging into the soft skin of your lips. “I don’t know”, tears once again streaming down your cheeks. “Probably because I’m scared, right? I’m a failure”.

“H-huh?”, your breath stopped, your eyes wide open as rough digits stroked over your cheek. His eyes now staring directly into yours as he squatted before you.

This wasn’t like him. He was never like this, or not that he could remember anyways.

“You must be freezing”, he sighed as he let his head fall back. “Here”, his hands wrapped around yours. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to burn you”, he coldly looked into your eyes again. Your heart was racing as you could feel his hands getting hotter, causing a nice sensation against your skin. Like holding them in front of a fireplace. “Feels nice”, you softly whispered.

His eyes unwillingly widened at your small praise. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone said something similar to him.

“It’s fine if you’re not like them”, his gaze now fixed on your hands. They fitted perfectly in his. Your skin felt so soft against his scars… He could stay like this for hours. “It’s fine if you’re scared”, his eyes found yours again. “I don’t need life lessons from someone like you”, you suddenly pulled your hands away, leaving an empty feeling behind. What were you doing? He was a villain. He couldn’t be trusted. “Right”, a painful look in his eyes. “I’m sorry”, he lowered his eyes as he stood back up. “So, you want to fight me or are you going to let me go without a hassle?”, his voice cold again. You stayed quiet for a second as you looked up at him. He looked handsome. Painfully handsome. Even with all of his scars, even with his messy hair… but most of all, he looked lonely.

“Cold”, you turned your head to the side, “My hands”. “Huh?”, his brows pulled together. “Could you please do that thing again?”, your cheeks red as you held out your hands, avoiding his gaze at all costs.

Even if this was a trap, even if you were going to capture him… He couldn’t refuse when you looked like that.

“Tsk”, an unexpected smile on his face, “Come here”. He lifted you from the ground with your arm.  “I’m not going to sit on the ground like an idiot. Let’s go to my place, it’s warm. I promise”, he already started walking. For some reason he didn’t doubt you’d follow him. And you did. Without saying anything. If this was wrong, then why did it feel so right?

It was only a five-minute walk and for some reason it made him sad. He could’ve walked through entire countries with you walking beside him.

“We’re here”, he stopped in front of a tall building. To be honest, it looked like it was going to fall apart any minute. “Know it’s not much”, he scratched the back of his head, “But it’s warm… and safe”.

He knew he was a hypocrite. How could he say something like that when he killed people for fun?

“Hm”, you softly smiled. “Y-you still want to come in?”, he now sounded nervous. He couldn’t believe you actually trusted him enough to follow him like this. “Yeah”, your arms wrapped around your body, trying to keep the cold away.

How could he forget? You probably didn’t have a quirk like his, that kept him warm. He should’ve offered you his coat, or at least try to keep you warm.

“Let’s go inside. You must be cold”, he opened the door for you. It. Was a quiet walk to his apartment. Your mind and heart fighting against each other. “So”, he awkwardly kicked some boxes of fast food to the side as you entered his apartment. “Like I said, I know it’s not much but it’s warm”.

He felt embarrassed. He only had a small TV and a bed. Not even a chair or a couch to sit on.

“It’s enough”, you smiled. “Here, sit down please”, he quickly straightened his pillows. “You can sit here. I know it’s probably not comfortable to sit like this-“. “It’s perfect”, you sat down while leaning with your back against the wooden frame of his bed. “H-here’s a blanket”, he grabbed one from a box. You thanked him once again.

“Why are you doing this?”.

Your question pierced through his chest. He didn’t know why. He wasn’t like this. He never was kind to anyone.

“I don’t know”, he awkwardly sat down beside you. “I guess I understand the way you feel. That’s why I said it’s fine if you’re not like them. You don’t have to pretend all the time”. “Pretend?”, you pulled the blanket over your legs. “They’re scared too, you know? Everyone is. They just pretend they aren’t. It’s fine to be scared, to not show up sometimes. It’s fine if you can’t fake being happy, or brave, or …”, he hesitated for a second. “All I’m saying is, it’s fine if you’re you”. “But I-“, your eyes already glossy. “Don’t cry”, he turned to look at you. “You can’t cry. You can’t show them you’re weak-“.

What was he doing? He cried all the time, or he used to anyway. And yes, he felt weak because he did so, but when he saw you cry earlier… All he saw was a girl who was tired of being strong.

“You don’t need this, right? A lecture”, he shook his head, unsure of what was happening to him. “Cry your heart out”, he wrapped your arms around your shoulders, pulling you close. “Cry. Let it out. You’re not alone. I’m here with you. It’s brave to cry”, he tightened his grip as he heard your sobs. “You’ll never be alone again”.

[alsophila-grahami]

get to know me tag

tagged by @averythepirate thank you <33

do you make your bed?

not as a habit, but i have been doing it more recently

what is your job?

unemployed/student gang

if you could go back to school would you?

probably not. I dropped out of art restoration due to burn out, and then I randomly went into horticulture and it's been such a horrible experience that I don't have it in me to go for another round, especially not with untreated adhd lmao

can you parallel park?

in theory yes, but I actually haven't done it since my driving lessons which was more than 5 years ago

a job you had that would surprise people?

I had a student job at an archeological dig site for exactly one day. we were excavating a graveyard under old church foundations. very interesting but it was in the middle of a heatwave and so hard on my body at the time that I quit after my first day, whoops

do you think aliens are real?

regarding how big the universe is, thinking that we're the only life form in it would be kinda crazy, so yeah

can you drive a manual car?

yeah it's the norm here, I drive a 2002 toyota corolla named after george harrison. beige interior, lovely brown dashboard, he's an old man but I am insanely attached to him <3

what is your guilty pleasure?

I don't feel guilty about any of my pleasures! I guess the closest would come safiya nygaard's videos since they're very consumerist and verging on the side of the internet I don't like to hang around, but they're very entertaining & I still don't really feel guilty about them

tattoos?

so far only 2 flying ducks on my arm that I got matching with my friend when travelling in budapest! i want many more tho, planning to get a nick drake one soon

do you like puzzles?

yeah! as long as they aren't like insanely frustrating. recently played a puzzle game called the last campfire which I really liked

any phobias?

not really

favorite childhood sport?

growing up as a fat kid not many, but I did really like badminton and trained it for two years

first thing you wanted to be growing up?

an illustrator

do you talk to yourself?

not that often but yeah for sure

what movies do you adore?

my top 5 are a new leaf, butch cassidy and the sundance kid, true stories, local hero and perfect days. all comfort movies too

honorable mentions: big eden, the assassination of jesse james by the coward robert ford, the american friend, mikey and nicky, castaway on the moon

coffee or tea?

I like both but I prefer tea

favorite color?

these :)

tagging: @acrosstherachelverse, @ssontag, @inrainbowscd, @lovemug, @thedivinemagnet no pressure ofc

[soaps-mohawk]

hey, this is kind of heavy so don't publish it if it'll ruin the vibe because i appreciate the community of unapologeticaly thirsty bitches (affectionate, gender neutral) that is your blog

i just wanted to say thank you because well there is not a lot of joy left in life

by not a lot i mean fucking none lmao

it feels like i'm not allowed to feel anything except hopelessness because being hopeless is a logical conclusion of how everything around is, but then, i also don't have the moral right to feel hopeless because i should be raging, i should go and die pointlessly for the cause or whatever

and yet, the way you write those silly military men allows me to feel comforted, to stop fixating on the future i never had but still mourn

your reader is amazing too, a strong person who didn't allow the dystopian reality around turn her into a coward with a closed-off heart, someone who is able to care despite how much heartache she was forced to bare through no fault of her own

in general, my favorite gateway to maladaptive daydreaming 10/10 would recommend, so thank you for that and i hope that it's okay to let you know that your work made my life a little better, so. again. thank you

-🌯

Hi burrito anon. Thank you for sharing this 💚

I know we all feel the same, or at least similar with everything going on right now around the world. Things are looking grim and it's hard to see any hope or goodness in the world most of the time. It's especially bad when there's nothing you can really do about it directly. That helpless feeling is hard to come to terms with and I know a lot of people are struggling with that right now.

I'm glad I'm able to help even just a little. Fantasy is my escapism and even turning something as bleak, and like you said, silly, as Call of Duty into an escape for others is really all I wanted to achieve. I love hearing how much this story has touched people and made their days better, or even their lives, because that's really why I posted it to begin with, and why I continue to post it.

I'm so glad I took the risk and posted this fic. I'm glad I didn't just leave it to die in my WIPs like so many others. You and all my readers are what keep me going, are what make it worth it to post every week, to talk about it, to build the lore like I have. I've never gotten this deep into a fic before, and it's because of all of my lovely readers.

I should be the one thanking all of you for giving me this opportunity. I've met some amazing people so far on this journey, and I hope I meet some more by the time we get to the end. Even then, I have no plans to go anywhere.

I'm so glad you feel that my fic has made things better for you, even just a little. That makes my world a little better, hearing that. 💚💚

[pianapplez]

Hello there 👋👀,

So I just found your blog and had a lot of fun scrolling through all the pjo show crit😂 I couldn't help but notice that one tag you left on a post where you said you had some beef with Annabeth's portrayal in the books 👀 Would you mind elaborating on that if you're comfortable with it🙈? Because I absolutely share that sentiment, but it's sooo veeeery rare that I see other people express anything like it... I've found that trying to be a part of the fandom can be pretty alienating most of the time, if you're not exactly the biggest most devoted Percabeth shipper...😅 And often any criticism leveled at Annabeth just gets you a smack with the "internalized-misogyny" hammer... it's even worse in the tv show now due to... obvious reasons...

Again just if you're comfortable with answering of course🙈 There is a reason I stayed on anon after all...😅😂

Really glad you asked because i finally get to ramble about this heheheh (going forward, know that i skimmed over The Last Olympian to have a clearer sense of what I meant because that's the book where Rick fumbles her character more than the others)

i'm gonna try to make as much sense as possible but short answer would be, she's underdeveloped. Long answer:

She really got on my nerves in the last two books, with the whole Rachel debacle and then the Battle of New York. I can't really remember a single moment in those books where she and Percy aren't bickering or having heated discussions, which really made me question their friendship status. Of course, it's not like friends can't fight and it obviously builds up the (romantic) tension between them, but it got unbearable at one point.

I understand she's a teenager in an incredibly stressful situation that didn't even get to have a normal upbringing- she grew up way too fast (run away at 7, head counselor at 12) while also not really maturing, which is not a problem for a character, if it is handled properly. Given the fact that I am writing this, Riordan did not.

On the surface, my biggest beef is that Annabeth is not exactly held accountable for her actions (ie. treating Rachel a bit like shit and going off on Percy for a bunch of stuff.) I know Percy is to blame a bit here: as far as we know, in TLO he basically cuts the greek world out of his life as much as he can as a coping mechanism. And while yes, he never apologizes either, he doesn't give her nearly half the hard time she gives him: always either giving him the cold shoulder (there must be at least one example of this in the entire series but i cant be bothered to look it up sorry) or starting an argument only to then storm off (see the "you're a coward, Percy Jackson!" scene, which is not the fairest example since she was confronting Percy about ignoring camp but also was a bit too harsh about it) (especially after finally reading the prophecy and being under the impression that he was absolutely going to die when he turned 16 lmao) or just straight up storming off (see, Annabeth reacting when Rachel shows up for the first time during the battle of new york). While most of these feel, at least to some degree, fairly justified given how the entire situation does an absolute number on her emotions, she comes off a bit brattish and like she's trying to rile Percy up, especially when it comes to Rachel, which in the context of a battle that could mean the destruction of the world.... Well, it reads as a bit childish to me, and i wouldn't exactly have that much of a problem with it if it was dealt with in some way (a two-way apology would be nice).

After that first impression, i realized that Annabeth is barely ever anything else other than a plot device (when relating to Luke) or a love interest (when relating to Percy). This might be because the books are on Percy's POV. Hell, on the third book he's even conflicted when Annabeth is considering joining the Hunters of Artemis, aka, when making a choice for herself would mean he loses her (which is fine and dandy but it feels like Percy is more upset about her choosing her own path rather than being sad about not seeing her as often); we really only get a few glimpses of her, as in, actually her when she's on her own.

Obviously it's impossible to talk about Annabeth without touching on percabeth, which also is, in my opinion, what hinders Annabeth's character the most. On paper they sound great. The guy whose fatal flaw is loyalty falls in love with a girl whose been let down by people over and over, and she decides to never give up on the boy whose always had people give up on him (can't find one of the million posts that talks about this right now but it always goes something like that) And yeah, the bickering is really well written! But that's literally as far as it ever goes: they don't ever seem to have fun together, because 8 times out of 10 the bickering ends up being passive aggressive, and mostly done by Annabeth. My biggest gripe about percabeth is that their friendship seems to be based off... shared trauma. Literally. Other than going on quests together we are given no examples of them hanging out, nor a reason why they would want to spend time together in the first place, not even a shared hobby. Yes, in the fourth book they had a movie "date" planned but of course they didn't even get to it, and surprise surprise, they had a minor discussion, and surprise surprise, Annabeth was passive aggressive again. It's hard to picture them having fun together when even the author doesn't write in any scenes in which they get along smoothly (and before you say anything, a scene in which they get along where neither of them is about to die, and they're not talking about previous adventures. Gets a bit hard then, doesn't it?) It's even harder to picture them as a couple when the moment she gets upset about something, she starts coming off as emotionally manipulative (see, again, literally any conversation with Rachel or about Rachel)

To be fair, the books are relatively short and don't allow many "filler" chapters, if you will; there's always something happening to keep the main plot or a minor plot point moving forward, but it's not like there is no room to develop the characters' relationships, especially when we're talking about the main char and what is essentially his endgame. As an example we have Percy and Clarisse, or Percy and Beckendorf. Their interactions are brief but still hold so much weight.

Worst of all, Annabeth could be one hell of a character; what's most interesting of all is how being a daughter of Athena she is still incredibly emotionally driven, which is displayed very clearly with her fatal flaw being pride: her telling the Sphynx that her questions were too easy was not smart nor strategic: it was completely impulsive. I seriously think she wasn't far from being the best character in the series had she been given more time.

I guess i have as much beef with Annabeth as i have with Rick for doing her dirty. I really could sum this up with: while her emotions are justified, she acts upon them quite poorly. And this is what i mean when i say she's underdeveloped, because it would've been nice to see her come to her senses a bit.

Would love to read anyone's opinions on her character though, feel free to comment, even (or especially) if you don't agree with me!