#sitting here trying to will myself not to get hard and

[avcdgrdn]

── .✦ [ FIC ]: can i really stay here? [ part two ]

[ a continuation of part one ]

mullet stanley pines x innkeeper reader

tags: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, sfw

word count: 1875

˙✧˖° ༘ ⋆｡˚

in any other circumstances, you wouldn’t even dare to imagine holding a man you had just met the same day.

but stan … was different.

when your eyes first locked with his from across the counter, you could tell that he was hurting, and badly. he was trying so hard to cover it up, and it worked for the most part — after all, up until now, nobody had cared about him enough to see through his facade.

but you saw straight through him. and not only that, you actually did something about it. you offered to care for his needs, at your own expense.

his father only ever saw him as an expense.

so, there you were, sitting at the bar, holding onto the maroon fabric of his jacket as he trembled like a leaf.

the scent of cigarette smoke and pine needles was strong in your nose as he buried his face into your shoulder. you could feel his stubble scratching against your skin.

there was a part of you that wanted to speak up and comfort him, but ultimately you decided against it. you didn’t quite know enough about him to be able to speak to his situation.

after a few minutes, stan seemed to be calming down. his breathing became even, although he was still clinging onto you tightly.

“i …”

his voice was cracked and raspy.

“i … screwed up. i don’t … know how i’m gonna fix it.”

your brow furrowed as you listened to him.

“y’know, stan … i don’t know what you’re going through. but can you do me one favor?”

“... yeah?”

“look at me.”

slowly, the brunet lifted his head, pulling himself back just enough to be able to look at you. his eyes were red and puffy, but his gaze was sincere.

you looked back at him, determined. “i’m gonna help you out.”

stan didn’t know how to react. he swallowed a lump in his throat, scanning your face as if to check whether you were lying to him or not.

“... you don’t … hafta do that. i brought it on myself—”

“i don’t care.”

his eyes widened.

“if i can keep somebody from a worse fate, then i’ll do it. let me give you a place to stay, even if it’s just for a little while.” you smiled warmly, squeezing his arm for emphasis. “you shouldn’t have to feel like your life means nothing.”

“… you’re an angel.”

those words made you blush. “i–i wouldn’t say that—”

uh-oh, he’s smirking now. chuckling lowly, he let go of you so that he could cross his arms over his chest.

“what, are you tryna tell me you’re not sent from heaven? think about it. you’re saving my biscuits here, toots.” there was serious gratitude in his tone, despite his teasing. at least he seemed to be in a better mood. “i think i’ll hafta call you that more often, yeah? angel.”

you laughed nervously, trying desperately to distract yourself from your red hot face. “really? h–how interesting …”

stan snickered again, gazing at you for a moment longer with fondness dancing in his brown eyes. then, glancing at the wall clock, he realized the time. “damn, it’s midnight. i should probably stop bothering you ‘nd get to bed, huh?”

“huh, it is late … i should sleep, too.”

“then it’s decided. i’ll see ya tomorrow.” he hummed, standing from his seat and stretching out his arms before cracking a soft smile and turning around to walk towards his room.

you were left to watch him leave, your eyes following his footsteps as he made his way back up the staircase.

approximately eight hours later, you awoke to the sunlight gently filtering through your bedside window, causing your eyelids to flutter open.

the events of last night came flooding back into your mind.

i guess i’ll be seeing a whole lot more of him …

sitting up in bed, you yawned, rubbing your face sleepily.

“mm … what time is it …”

the alarm clock on your nightstand read 8:02 am.

shoot, i overslept—oh, wait. it’s my day off.

that little fact was enough to put you in a good mood for the morning. humming happily to yourself, you began to get ready for the day, picking out a comfortable outfit and a few accessories.

descending two flights of stairs, you wandered into the lobby of your inn, greeting a few different patrons and employees with a cheerful wave. it was breakfast rush hour for the kitchen, and you could catch glimpses of your executive chef running to and fro behind the bar.

he seems pretty busy today. maybe i’ll grab a bite to eat somewhere? hmm, but the question is where …

just then, your train of thought was interrupted by the sound of someone calling out your name.

you whipped around to locate the voice’s source, and there was stan, walking towards you at a leisurely pace. a radiant grin broke out on your face.

“stan! hey, good morning! how’d you sleep?”

raising a brow, he chuckled at your energy. “well, good morning, sunshine. i slept like a baby, thanks t’ you.”

“ah, don’t mention it.” you smiled, placing your hands on your hips. “i’m just glad you could sleep.”

the two of you looked at each other for a second.

why did his stare make you feel butterflies in your chest?

probably unimportant ………… right? yeah.

clearing your throat, you averted your gaze before you started to blush again. “so, um … have you had anything to eat yet?”

“nah. i was just about to, though.” to be frank, he had totally forgotten that he had access to breakfast until you just mentioned it.

“sounds goo–”

you paused mid-sentence, remembering something.

“actually … i was planning on eating out for breakfast today. would you wanna join me? since the kitchen is bustling and all …”

oh, wow. did you really just ask him out to breakfast? it didn’t hit you until after you had said it out loud that it could be considered that way. oops. was that weird? were you weird? augh.

stan had half a mind to tease you senseless for how cute that was, but after thinking about it, he decided against it. he wouldn’t wanna ruin his chances at having breakfast with you.

“you kiddin’? i’d love that.” he nodded his head, flattered and amused. “not many people can say they’ve had breakfast with an angel, ya know.”

your ears turned red.

i walked right into that one. darn you and your smooth talking …

“oh, let’s just go already.” embarrassed, you grabbed his wrist, pulling him along towards the front door. stan laughed heartily, allowing himself to be led.

it wasn’t long before you arrived at one of your favorite diners in town, known for their homey atmosphere and good breakfast. walking into the building, you were met with the smell of eggs, bacon, and coffee. the two of you breathed it in simultaneously, sighing.

“reminds me of breakfast as a kid.” stanley mused, thinking of the days when he and ford would poke at each other’s food and giggle. you smiled, watching his expression.

“c’mon, this way.” you beckoned him over towards the table you usually sat at, and a familiar waitress walked over to you as you settled in.

“good morning, loyal patron~ i see you’ve brought a plus one today, yes?”

“uh—yes. don’t go jumping to conclusions, though …”

the waitress grinned innocently. “of course. now, what can i get for you two?”

stan wound up ordering pancakes with bacon and eggs, while you settled on some waffles and a mug of coffee. you could have sworn you saw that waitress giggling to her coworker about something as she went on her way, but you shook your head to yourself in an attempt to ignore it. instead, you directed your attention towards the man sitting across from you.

“so, i’m guessin’ you’re a regular here?” he tilted his head, leaning back against his seat. there was a smirk plastered onto his face that you couldn’t quite decipher.

“you would guess correctly.” you hummed, picking up the salt shaker on the table and fidgeting with it absentmindedly. “have you ever been?”

a rumbling sigh escaped his lips.

“nah … i’m not exactly from around here.”

your gaze was trained on him. so far, he’s kept a laid-back demeanor, not to mention that little smirk that drives you insane—but you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was way more depth to his character than he let on.

“yeah? where’re you from?”

“...”

there was a brief silence. his chocolate brown eyes, warmly lit by the sun, stared into your soul.

“i’m from new jersey.”

your eyebrows shot up. “from jersey? wow … you’re far from home, then.”

“it’s not home anymore.”

you opened your mouth to say something, but closed it again. stan was staring out the window, a frown creasing his face.

“i … sorry. sensitive topic?”

he turned back to you, a faint blush appearing on his face. “uh … well, yeah, i guess … it’s okay.”

“come again?”

“... it’s, uh—i–i’m okay, if it’s you.”

he was a darker shade of red now, scratching awkwardly at his stubble. he felt so … vulnerable. but somehow, he was okay with it.

at that moment, the waitress came back with plates of food. “order up!”

you watched as you were served, salivating as you saw golden waffles covered in butter and syrup smiling up at you. it didn’t take long for the both of you to start digging in.

“... wow.” after the first few bites, stan had stars in his eyes. “it tastes just like ma’s.”

“was your mom a good cook?”

he snorted. “well, she wasn’t exactly a michelin star chef, but she could make some damn good flapjacks. at least, i sure thought so.” putting another forkful of pancake into his mouth, he chewed thoughtfully. you simply propped your head on one hand, watching.

“i always told her she could sell ‘em for a fortune.”

his tone was soft with nostalgia.

“she just laughed. prob’ly cause i was five when i told her that.”

“they must’ve been really something, huh?”

“they were. all my life, i dreamt of selling somethin’ as good as that. i haven’t stopped trying, either.”

he scoffed.

“most of ‘em have been a bust.”

you hummed softly in understanding.

“you’re still trying, though. that’s worth more than any failed effort.”

he looked up from his plate. “... you think so?”

“sure i do.” lifting your mug, you took a sip of coffee. “perseverance is worth a lot.”

stan could barely handle your uplifting words. his heart was squeezing in his chest. covering his flustered face with one hand, he leaned against the table, grumbling.

“... an angel … God sent an angel.”

“what?”

“what? nothing.”

a few hours later, you were walking side by side back to the inn. stan couldn’t help but admire the way the fall breeze tousled your hair, and the gentle smile on his face was speaking his thoughts out loud.

he’d never known that somebody this beautiful could even exist.

maybe ...

maybe he hasn’t hit rock bottom quite yet.

end

author's note:

thank you for all the love on this fic !!! :D

part three ....????? any part three hopefuls out there?

i gotta keep cooking.

if you have any fic or headcanon requests, hit up my askbox! <3

tag list: @icouldntthinkofanythingclever @seahorrorz @blustalker @hay-needle @phanmai1002

[holylulusworld]

Every breath you take (16)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: a man out of time, secret admirer trope, “crazy” reader, fluff

A/N: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Catch up here: Every breath you take (15)

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

Bucky hates this. He hates leaving you alone after only two days of living together. Sam called for help, and so as not to ruin the chance of getting happy with you, he must play along. Bucky cannot let Sam know he kidnapped you.

“Bucky,” you coo while hugging him tightly. You snuggle in his chest and sigh. “You’re going to be careful. Do not leave me and Alpine all alone. Kitty will eat me if I’m too depressed to get up because you didn’t come back.”

“What?” He hiccups, shocked at your words. “I’d never leave you all alone, doll. I’ll be back soon. Sam needs my help, is all.”

“You still must be careful. I don’t want you to get hurt,” you place your hands on his chest and give him your sweetest pout. “We just moved in together, Bucky baby. Your doll needs you to come back to her.”

He hums as you stare up at him as if he’s the sun, moon, stars, and the whole fucking universe to him. You smile softly and run your hands over his chest, taking the chance to feel Bucky up.

“I’m going to miss you,” you whine. “I’ll think about you all the time.” Now you pucker your lips. “Especially when I touch myself.”

“No!”

“No?” You gasp when his features harden. “No more touching yourself.” You’re taken aback by his angry tone. “You’re mine. Only I’ll bring you pleasure from now on.”

Your cheeks heat up, but you don’t want him to take away your pleasure. “What if I think about you while touching my sweet pussy?”

“Baby doll,” he purrs your name. Bucky cups your chin, holding it in a tight grip. Not hard enough to hurt, but to make his strength known. “No touching yourself. You’ll be a good girl and wait for me to return.” He pecks your lips, smirking against your soft pillows. “If you’re being good, you’ll get a surprise when I’m back.”

You fist his jacket while moaning his name against his lips. “Okay. I’ll be good,” you whisper lowly. “Alpine too. I’ll make sure Fluffy Ball is going to be a good cat.”

He laughs when Alpine sits next to you, meowing loudly. “Punk, no stealing my socks.” He looks at you one last time before he turns to leave. “And no funny business for you, doll.”

“Yes, Sir. Mr. Bucky, sir,” you giggle playfully. “I’ll be so good for you. Oh, I can put my orchids on the windowsills. I’ll just decorate the whole house to make it cozier for us. I got all those nice pillows and blankets.”

“Do as you wish, doll,” Bucky pecks your temple. “If you need my help, there’s a phone on the nightstand. You can only call one number, my number, but I’ll be right there.”

“I know,” you sigh dreamily. “Now go and save the world, my hero. Alpine and I are on house guarding duty.” You salute as you watch Bucky leave.

For a moment, looking at the phone on the nightstand makes you feel uneasy. You don’t know why. This is what you wanted—for Bucky to take you away from your life. Still, only being able to call him, and no one else, doesn’t feel right.

You’re not going to leave Bucky. He’s the man you want, and you’re in for the long haul. Why can’t he trust you? You willingly came with him without making a fuss. Any other woman would’ve screamed and fought tooth and nail.

Shaking your head, you sigh. No. Bucky tries to keep you safe, that’s all. He’s not trying to lock you away or keep you hostage.

Sooner than later, he’ll see that you love him and that you want to stay with him.

Alpine jumps onto the couch, bumping his head into your thigh. “Hey, sweetie,” you coo. “Do you want to watch the movie with me?”

The white cat meows loudly before jumping on your lap to get comfortable. It’s been only a few hours since Bucky left, but you already feel alone without him.

“What kind of movie do you like?” You pat Alpine’s back, gently running your hand over his fur. “Why does Bucky call you punk? You’re such a nice and well-behaved cat.”

While Alpine gets comfortable on your lap, you switch through the channels, looking for a distraction. No show or movie picks your interest because you’re worried about Bucky and, even more, about you and Alpine. What if he doesn’t come back? No one knows where you are.

“That looks good, right?” You glance at Bucky sitting next to your feet. He watches you place another orchid on the windowsill. “What do you think, Alpine? The light is perfect.”

Alpine isn’t a big help. He just meows and looks cute, but you are happy for his company. “Hmm... maybe we should ask Bucky when he comes back. He leaves here too, and I want him to feel comfortable and happy.”

“What’s the matter, Sam? Why did you call me in the middle of the night?” Bucky frowns because Sam leads him straight toward your abandoned apartment. “Sam?”

“A colleague of your friend called and reported her missing. Y/N, the girl you asked out, quit her job out of the blue, and no one has seen her for a few days. Her talkative colleague mentioned a stalker.”

Bucky feels his stomach tighten. This is the worst-case scenario. Sam is investigating your disappearance. Damn it. Bucky believed he covered up all traces. He even booked a flight for you with your credit card.

“Anything yet?” He asks, hoping Sam can’t hear the panic in his voice. “She’s a nice girl, and I don’t want anything to happen to her.”

“So far, it looks like she packed her bags, quit her job, and booked a flight to Fiji,” Sam explains. “When did you last see her?” He watches Bucky furrow his brows.

“On our date. You remember I had to cancel my plans with her for you. After that, she told me that we couldn’t see each other right now. I had the feeling she wasn’t interested in me. Bucky plays his role well. He shrugs and sighs deeply. “Maybe I didn’t talk enough, or I talked too much.”

“Man, sometimes it just doesn’t work out,” Sam says as he picks your lock. “Let’s have a look around her place. I bet she wanted to escape her life for a while.”

Bucky nods; it’s all he can do. He only hopes he didn’t leave any trace leading to him...

Tags in reblog.

[warlocksoup]

into the spider-verse: nishinoya yuu

volume one, chapter two: calls

word count: 2.5k

masterlist | main masterlist | taglist

On the rooftop of the Flatiron Building, she leans back, and stares at the sky above her. She’s learned that looking down gives her vertigo, and if she’s lying down, she can pretend she’s not twenty-two stories off the ground.

Noya laughs at her, because he always does, but he still holds her hand, because he knows it makes her feel better. “I can’t believe you’re still afraid of heights.”

“I feel like this is a super reasonable fear to have.” She inches a little but further away from the edge as she speaks. She doesn’t even wanna be close to it. “Plummeting to my death isn’t like, a big priority for me right now.”

He squeezes her hand. “You know I’ll catch you if you fall.”

He would. She doesn’t even doubt that for a second. If right now she stood up and decided to take a swan dive off the side of the building, there would be nothing getting in between him and her, and Noya would have her safely in his arms before she hit the fifteenth floor.

But still. It fucking terrifies her.

“Okay, sorry my primal instinct does not recognize that you got bit by some weird science experiment spider and now you defy all laws of nature,” she rolls her eyes, still tightly holding onto his hand as he sits upright beside her. “I’ll work on that.”

Nishinoya leans over a lightly pinches the soft skin of her stomach under her t-shirt. She squeals. “Keep it up with the attitude and I’ll throw you off the side of this building myself.”

“Hmm, not very hero-like of you, Spider-Man.”

“You bring out the worst in me.”

She grins. “I’m going to have to write an article about this. ‘Spider-Man throws innocent journalist with fear of heights off Flatiron Building.’ Jameson will love it.”

Nishinoya scoffs. “Yeah, I’m sure he would. Too bad you’ll be busy being a sidewalk pancake.”

Her eyes find their intertwined hands. It’s always been natural, their friendship, everything that happens between them feels like it’s supposed to. The handholding and the couch-sharing and the arm over her shoulder. It’s always right, with Nishinoya. She doesn’t even have to think about it.

She watches his thumb as it brushes against her skin. “How’s it been out there lately?” she asks.

“Quiet,” Nishinoya replies. “Saving kittens from trees and helping old ladies across the street. Besides Sytsevich, everything’s been quiet since Osborn died. It’s kinda weird, y’know? Like eerie.”

“Yeah, I imagine waiting for the next disaster to strike can feel like that,” she comments, leaning back to stare up at the empty sky. You can’t ever see stars out here. “Hey, Noya?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think you’re gonna stay here forever?” she asks. “Just stick around and be Spider-Man for the rest of your life.”

He hums a bit. “I dunno. I think I’ll probably just go wherever you end up.”

🕸 ｡𖦹°‧✩｡🕷˚⋆｡

She’s sitting on the train, a hot cup of coffee in one hand, and her phone in the other. She’s looking down at an email from her favorite Yahoo user: If you don’t want the whole world to find out, do as I say.

It’s pretty explicit. It’s hard to misinterpret that kind of message, as much as she’s deliberately trying to. Her fingers tap against the paper cup, trying not to let panic work its way up her throat in the middle of this train cab, surrounded by bored commuters that wouldn’t flinch twice at any sort of breakdown she could have.

A heavy breath leaves her lung, and she pockets her phone, trying, with a tight feeling of desperation around her throat, not to think of it. If it’s not in her face, it’ll be marginally easier to pretend.

Yachi’s waiting for her at her desk when she gets into work. She slides into her chair, and Yachi skips the greeting. “Jameson’s pissed,” Yachi says, tapping a pencil against her desk.

“Yeah? What’d Spider-Man do now?” she questions, typing her password in. She mistypes it, and curses slightly under her breath.

“The PI he hired to find out his identity quit,” Yachi laughs. “Apparently there wasn’t enough for him to go off, and the guy got tired of Jameson raising his blood pressure at him for forty minutes a day.”

She snorts. Noya’s told her about private investigators before. Everyone touts that they’re going to be the one to unmask Spider-Man, but it’s kinda tricky trailing a man with superhuman sixth sense and the ability to basically fly through the city. “I give it another three months before he tries this one again.”

“I give it one,” Yachi counters.

Her desktop loads up, and she is immediately hit with a barrage of emails, looking like they’re coming in all at once, all in caps lock. “Fuck, looks like he’s taking it out on me again.”

Email after email, the subject lines varying from things like, “This piece is crap!” to “How are you still employed here?”

Yachi leans forward to get a better at her screen. “Oh, that’s bad. I’ll leave you to that.”

And it’s just that Yachi gives her a sharp grin and two-finger salute that another email pops up. No subject line, just a simple: Wait for my instruction.

🕸 ｡𖦹°‧✩｡🕷˚⋆｡

Harry Osborn looks smarmy on the television screen, a thin layer of sweat shining on his forehead and slick smile that looks a little bit too pleased for his father’s funeral. She knocks her knee into Noya’s leg underneath the blanket they share. “That guy’s such a piece of shit,” she comments, jerking her chin forward towards the younger Osborn.

Noya knocks his leg back into hers. “My guy looks like he just won the lottery,” he remarks, eyes not leaving the screen. There’s a bit of history between Spider-Man and the Osborn family, mainly consisting of Norman committing acts of domestic terrorism from the vantage point of a hoverboard, dressed like a fucking goblin.

“Yeah, well he basically did,” she snarks. “Imagine inheriting Oscorp before you’re twenty-five. Basically guarantees you a fucking thirty under thirty spot.”

He snorts. “I’d rather not have anything to do with Oscorp. I’d rather be broke.”

"Oh, you mean the company that basically sponsored the lizard-ification of Dr. Connors? I can't imagine why." She lops her head to the side to look at him. “And anyway, I’m broke. You’re a freeloader.”

Nishinoya waves her off. “Same difference.”

She snorts, turning to face the television again to see they’re playing old footage of Norman Osborn in a lab (coat and everything), explaining the mission statement of Oscorp. To build a better future.

There were rumors about Norman, post-mortem. Details floating around about how he was driven mad in his final year. That the Osborn curse had infected him beyond hope, and his mind had began to decay, along with his body. Some people think he’s been dead for much longer. Some people think a group of investors had been secretly running Oscorp for years while Norman received private care upstate. Some people even suspect him of being the Goblin.

She wonders if that was the better future he had envisioned.

Noya shifts uncomfortably in his seat. She reaches over and grabs his hand, squeezing it tightly in hers. She’s sure he’s wishing the son will be better than his father. She’s hoping too.

His thumb traces circles over her knuckle. He doesn’t look in her direction. She tries to focus on the news and enjoy the way his hand feels in hers before there’s some police broadcast or distant siren or whatever to call him back to duty.

🕸 ｡𖦹°‧✩｡🕷˚⋆｡

Meet me @ 300 W 57th St tomorrow at 8am. Or I tell everyone about him.

She sits at her desk, biting down on the end of a pencil, and weighing her options.

One: she could tell Noya.

There’s not even a chance he would let her go. Not even if he were there. No matter the argument she would present. Nishinoya would sooner web her to the couch than let her go meet up with some mystery blackmailer. She also knows that this threat would do little to sway him. If she tells Noya, the most likely outcome is him, masked up and aggravated, showing up to fight.

Which would result in ijs99ETJfdhsg@yahoo.com telling everyone.

Two: she could do nothing.

There’s really been no hard proof presented to her that shows that Yahoo user ijs99ETJfdhsg knows what he claims he knows. This could all very well be a big misunderstanding on her end. And so what? Even if he does know what he claims to, it’s not like the world would so easily believe that Nishinoya Yuu, random unemployed man, is Spider-Man. Random liars claim to be Spider-Man every day. Noya could easily blend in with random liars.

The consequence of doing nothing though is, of course, him telling everyone. And still, the possibility that the masses believe him or that Yahoo user ijs99ETJfdhsg does have some hard evidence on his side gnaw away at her. She can’t shoulder that.

Three: she could show up.

She could put some pepper spray in her bag and give Noya the address just in case something happens, and she could go and meet with this mystery blackmailer to see exactly what the fuck it is he wants.

And then, he wouldn’t tell anyone.

The thought of it puts knots in her stomach, and those knots are worsened by the acknowledgement that it’s probably her best course of action.

She sighs, using her cursor to highlight the address he provided and plopping it back into search bar. She’s envisioning some deserted alley, an abandoned storefront or someplace that would leave no witnesses if she were to be kidnapped and/or murdered.

What she wasn’t expecting was fucking Oscorp.

🕸 ｡𖦹°‧✩｡🕷˚⋆｡

Harry Osborn’s office is neat. Almost empty, save for a few hard-drives and a stack of unopened newspapers at his desk. The wall to ceiling windows provide a view of the city she’s never seen before, and standing in the middle of it, she feels so starkly out of place. She looks behind her, just to see the assistant that led her up here closing the door behind him.

She feels trapped, at once.

Harry himself is leaning against a window, and as if operating on a que, he turns on his heel, a sickly grin plastered on his face, and, if she squints, she can almost see a greenish sort of hue in the undertones of his skin. “There’s my favorite journalist,” he greets, arms extended out as if he was going to hug her.

She steps back. “Erm, yeah,” she responds, head turning slightly to eye the closed door behind her. There’s something off in the air of room, something off-putting in the way Harry is looking at her. “Is there a reason you summoned me here through cryptic emails, or did you just wanna like, hang out?”

He stops, and lets his arms drop back down to his side, stuffing his hands in his pant pockets. “Straight to the point. I like that. I like that quality.”

It’s strange to be in the same room as him, New York City’s prodigal son. She’s seen his face on the cover of magazines and on news segments and she’s written articles about him. Harry Osborn has almost always been some kind of mythic figure in her head. An untouchable prince. Nothing she could get away with printing in the Bugle would ever have any impact on him.

But here before her, he does not look mythic, or untouchable, he looks like a very sick man. His hair falls flatly on his forehead, and he uses the back of sleeve to wipe off droplets of sweat. The longer she looks at him, the greener he seems, like his whole body is lightly stained.

Harry takes another step towards her. She steps back again.

“Y’know,” he drawls, and moves to stand behind the large desk that takes up most of the room; she watches him carefully, eyes trained on his every movement, “one of the most underrated parts of a power acquisition in a company like Oscorp, is that you suddenly have a lot more information at your disposal. A lot of information that money can’t buy.”

There’s something about the way he talks that is starkly unnatural. The PR training bleeds out of every word, and though he looks young, but the way he carries himself is eerily like his father. It makes goosebumps rise on the back of her neck. She looks over her shoulder, back at the door behind her. “O-okay.”

Harry takes a seat, like he’s unbothered by her presence. His hand lingers over one of the hard drives. “Did you know that, back in the early two-thousands, this company poured millions into researched on genetically enhanced spiders. They were supposed to be this miracle cure. A magic spider that could cure any illness. Until, of course, the head scientist died in some accident, and they had to kill off the whole project, including all the spiders they bred. Y’know, today, I think we only have one thing to show for that project.”

Her face is hot, and her ears feel like they’re stuffed with cotton. This all suddenly feels like a mistake, like she’s in over her head and she never should’ve come here without Noya. Her tongue is dry when she tries to speak. “Is this, is this on the record, or…?”

Harry leans forward in her chair, and sneers. It chills her blood, that expression, cold and gnarled. “I’m not interested in going on the record with some second-rate journalist at a trash paper. I’m interested in this.”

Harry Osborn grabs the newspaper on his desk and slams it forward. She takes a step forward to get a better look and knows immediately what it is. It’s the Daily Bugle, with Spider-Man on the front page and her name printed on the bottom.

The First-Ever On-The-Record Interview with the One and Only Spider-Man!

Her hands are shaking. She looks up to see Harry grinning at her. “It’s funny, actually, how someone right out of school, with no credentials and no reputation to go off, could get this kind of interview.”

She can hear her heartbeat, and all she can think of is how unbelievably, colossally fucked she is.

Harry Osborn stands and makes his way to stand directly in front of her. The closer he is, the more of him she can see. The green tint of his skin, the almost scaly quality, the point of his teeth. “I want you to find Spider-Man, and I want you to get him to give me his blood.”

🕸 ｡𖦹°‧✩｡🕷˚⋆｡

On the busy street beneath the Oscorp building, her fingers tremble as she dials Noya’s number. He answers after the first ring. “Hey, what’s up? I’m just dropping this bodega thief off at the station-“

“Noya,” she cuts him off, trying to hold back the sob in her voice. “I fucked up.”

taglist: @wyrcan @causenessus @seroh @19calicos @w4nyoung @soulfullystarry @chocolains @jaynawayna @baylz @vuntysharck @mollyrolls @boooolame @staileykout @angee444 @kameyyy @choerry-picking @giocriedpower @sunakeiji @sleepzyy @lunasfics @thecoolestlia @yoshit-he-dinosaur @bectoshi @thatonecroc @karasyuu @iatethemochi @itsdragonius @syverse @savemebrazilhinata @localgaytrainwreck @snail-squasher @atzixo @ahdbodhr @nbcvs @dailyakira @kasumiixs @s1ckntw1st3d @noble-17 @atsumuenthusiast @jino0ix @boobilater @keeboismine @scxrcherr @acowboykisser @acowboykisser @impatienscush @loverlunaire @oneiratxxia10 @kattiscrying @dazqa @termite-joe @quikhs @cupidsblonde @izukuwus

[platonicmoonwater00]

I see these everywhere. and i mean EVERYWHERE. and also i need motivation so lets go ig

10 notes- i'll drink on weekends too(i forget cos on weekends im just at home and not at school lugging around my frank green in my tote bag)

20 notes- i will(try to) pay attention in class

30 notes- i'll watch my whole watch later playlist on yt

50 notes- i'll actually do the techniques im learning in ✨therapy✨ to help with my anxiety and shitty social skills

75 notes- i'll take my iron tablets every day

100 notes- i'll start my assessments when i get them(i have one due tomorrow which i was gonna finish now but i'm doing this apparently)

125 notes- i'll ask my crush to hangout alone during spring holidays

150 notes- i'll try to go for a run or at least a walk every day

500 notes- i'll write another chapter of my fanfiction

1k notes- i will actually make an effort to get clean

2k notes- if i see someone pretty that i want to go out w in public i'll ask for their number cos holy fuck i need to put myself out there. even if we js end up being friends cos holy shit im lonely

3k notes- i will actually finished the dress i started making

4k notes- i will try to get over my crush cos its ✨never gonna happen✨(she so pretty and masc tho its gonna be hard)

5k notes- (this is so far up here cos idk how to do this so im gonnna need a lot of time to figure out how) im gonna try to demolish the rumour that im gay thats going around a bit.**

6k notes- i will finish all my crochet projects and not start any new ones until im done.

**context. i go to an all girls school and theres a lot of people so its not like everyone knows everyone, even in my year(theres approx. 174 in my year alone, and theres 6 year groups at my school cos high school is 7-12 where i live) but some people know me ig cos i know a few girl who are more notable, im in the top class and i recdntly started sitting with a group that the popular girls call furries.

(theyre a pretty big group and popular girls hate them cos one or two of them are trans - ftm, ftnb etc, no mtf cos my lovely/s catholic school wouldnt let trans girls in- several of them are gay, a few of them are emo, most of them are poc's and a few of them dont have english as their first language. overall they are seen as the "weird kids" in my year)

so this rumour apparently is going around that i like a girl in my class(i absolutely do but if you havent noticed my school is hella hoomophobic and i could very well get beat) which js isnt ideal and is gonna lead to a lot of issues, especially if a lot of people start believing it so if you guys have any advice pls lmk. and its not like i can js get a fake bf and show him off cos its a GIRLS SCHOOL. if i reconnect with a friend from primary school tho we could pretend to be dating and like make a post on social media. but then kids at his school would find out and hed either have to tell them its fake(which would eventually find its way back to my school, and when i say eventually i mean immediately) or he couldnt get a girlfriend so that probs wouldnt work.

i know it sounds like im making a mountain out of a molehill but ive got years to go here and i dont want to spend all my high school years getting bullied bc even if i went to a teacher about it or smthing id have to like analyse them first and try to figure out which ones are homophobic or not.

like learning about why "being gay is a sin"(pretend im saying that really mockingly) is literally in our curriculum.

holy shit that was longer than expected.

no pressure tags: @wishiwereheather13 @loserboyfriendrjl @fracturedsunsets @chasingthemoony @stars-and-leather @starsofleo

thats all im doing idk how you guys can stand js copy and pasting moots over and over i cant do this i did the first six that came up and that seems like enough 🤷‍♀️

begun doing

going to do

finished

[ancha-aus]

DoubleNoot AU Drabble - Next Steps

I got time! Time to write my version of what the next part of the DoubleNoot AU timeline is! Noot² for some :D

Last time on DoubleNoot Adventure! Corrupt split and caused the original Nightmare to return in the heat of battle! As a reaction he took his mates and the newly arrived child and took them back to his home and hideout.

@mikimakiboo Made their own version of this meeting but I also wanted to write it myself and how I see it happening :3 Still their drabble is amazing and everyone needs to show it love :D (yes i linked it last time but come on. This drabble is actually the counterpart to it!)

Also fair warning. I am keeping the pregnancy joke alive. I am not letting that go. It is too funny and too fitting for me. So... warning? discussions of mpreg.

No edits or beta we just going :D (warning. It is a long read.)

*----------------------------*

There... There is a tiny skeleton in his arms. A shaking and terrified skeleton. Corrupt glances around and very slowly places the skeleton on the couch. Only to have to dive back closer to catch him from falling over. Corrupt ends up putting Nightmare in the corner of the couch to enable him to lean against two sides.

There... Is a child. In his house.

One he had thought had died. Correction. One Corrupt had thought he had killed.

What... What does he do now?

Corrupt had reacted impulsive. He doesn't actually have a plan. He just knew he had to get himself and his mates away from the Stars, even if he already felt much better.

Okay. He needs to focus.

Corrupt needs to check his mates and make sure they are okay. Needs to make sure the Stars didn't hurt any of them while he crumbled.

Why is it so hard to look away from Nightmare? Corrupt can't look away. He keeps staring at the young skeleton.

He looks scared as he looks around the area. Pushing himself back against the couch as his chest moves quickly wiht his fast breathing. His clothes are absolutely filthy and goop isn't even the thing that makes it most dirty. Not there is still old dust and blood on his clothes which are ripped and also covered in mud.

But the bones? While also covered with dirt there isn't even a scratch on Nightmare. Which surprises Corrupt. Nightmare had his skull smashed in. Had suffered years of abuse of those villagers. Yet here he sits. Whole. Not as much as a bruise on him.

The only thing that seems wrong is that Nightmare seems to have lost control over his body, but he had also been inactive for 500 years so this may more be a matter of him having to relearn how to walk and move..

Okay. Stop. Think. Waht do you know for sure?

Corrupt just... split in two and Nightmare was removed from his being. Aparently he had Nightmare resting in his body since the apple accident. Maybe instead of forming from Nightmare he formed around Nightmare... it would explain why Corrupt never actually saw Nightmare or dust from him. Corrupt had always assumed that Nightmare hadn't dusted because of his treespirit nature.

Now.

Nightmare had been in his body, aparently slowly healing, and is now out of his body. Corrupt frowns. How come that he has Nightmare's memories in that case? Is it because Nightmare was the one to eat the apple? Does that mean that all those things he remembers and remembered feeling was all Nightmare and never his own.

Corrupt takes another depe breath to try and stay focussed. He still glances to make sure Nightmare is still where he left him. He is.

Okay. Corrupt will ahve to think about everything that this means later. Now he has to make sure everyone is okay... also make sure that Nightmare gets clean and situated. It... unnerves him to not have Nightmare with him. Corrupt doesn't knwo a lot but knows his being misses having Nightmare close.

"Euh... Moonlight?"

Corrupt frowns and turns slowly.

Killer looks between Nightmare and Corrupt "You know... I know we aren't always the most... serious bunch... but you could have told us you were pregnant... we could have handled it and could have helped."

It takes amoment before Corrupt sputters and glares at one of his mates "I wasn't pregnant!" He snaps but sees Ngihtmare flinch at the sound. Corrupt mentally decides to not shout anymore.

Killer just raises a brow as he crosses his arms before looking pointly at Nightmare "Really? Because that is a whole ass child-"

Cross shoots him a disapproving look "Don't curse!"

Killer blinks and looks over "The kid is already like... eight?" he tilts his skull at Nightmare.

Nightmare however shrinks in on himself as he tries to disappear into the couch.

Corrupt answers instead "He is ten actually. Just... tiny." he frowns. aparently Nightmare is just short? Corrupt himself is also short and he took some of his appearances over from Nightmare...

Killer frowns "Wait... ten years? How long have we all been together?" He looks very disappointed "We aren't the dads?"

Corrupt sputters again but manages to keep his voice down "I wasn't pregnant."

Horror speaks up as he glances up from his phone "According to the definition of giving birth which is: The emergence of a baby or other young from the body of its mother; the start of life as a physically separate being." Horror waves into the direction of Ngihtmare "Young." and he just looks pointedly at Corrupt.

Corrupt sighs as he rubs his face "I wasn't pregnant. I didn't give birth." he looks at Nightmare and frowns "I didn't even... i thought he was dead..." Nightmare stares back at him but gets a tiny frown on his face. Corrupt isn't sure what is on his face... probably grief. there always is grief when he thought about Nightmare.

Cross joins his side and holds his hand "hey... you could also have told us you miscarriaged... We could have helped..." he smiles.

Corrupt rubs his skull as he shakes his skull "No. I wasn't pregnant... Meet... Nightmare." Ngihtmare flinches at his name and when the others all start staring at him. Shit. Corrupt regrets that...

Dust frowns "I thought you said..."

Corrupt groans as he takes a deep sigh "I know... I know what i said. I thought the same. This is also very much a surprise for me."

"how do you know my name?"

silence and Crorupt looks back at Nightmare. Ngihtmare still looks terrified. He is obviously terrified. but he has a very tiny stubborn glare on his face. One hand has formed a fist and is shaking sligthly. Nightmare keeps staring at Corrupt specifically.

Corrupt blinks and speaks softly "I.... What do you remember?" does he remember everything that Corrupt remembered?

Nightmare frowns as he thinks before looks at Corrupt distrusting "You first. What do you know?"

Killer snorts "suspicious little fellow." he points at Corrupt "That is corrupt. I am Killer." he points everyone out as he names everyone. Corrupt is watching closely and can see more and more panick appear in Ngihtmare's posture as each name is given.

right... Very unfriendly names. Corrupt now regrets not agreeing to taking a friendlier name. He makes the decision as he walks over to Nightmare and takes a seat before him. He makes sure to keep his tentacles low but not to hide them, same for his arms.

Hidden limbs can attack him and hurt him. This way Nightmare can keep and easy eye on everything.

Corrupt speaks softly, making sure to keep his voice soft and quiet just in case "I must admit I am not quite sure myself anymore. I am Corrupt. When you ate the apple of the tree I formed. I always believed that you had died and I formed from that moment with the apple's magic and power... I was unaware you were with me the whole time. How are you feeling? What do you remember?" and he waits. He knows this is a lot of information.

Nightmare frowns as he looks down slightly. Thinking. He looks at his hand and frowns as he touches some of his fingers. Corrupt follows the sight and knows why Nightmare must be confused. The villages had smashed his phalanges with a large bat just days before the apple incident. Those breaks should have been there still.

Nightmare forms a fist again as he holds said hand with his other "I... I think i... remember eating it..." he frowns more before flinching. Corrupt frowns and looks over his shoulder. Right.

He sighs "Loves. please back up a tiny bit." the four had started to gravitate closer but they seem to realise the problem. They give some quiet sorries and back up a bit.

Corrupt looks amused at them before motioning towards the other couches and chairs "Just sit down for a moment." He first needs to get Ngihtmare to relax just a tiny bit. Corrupt doubts he can move alright just yet and Corrupt wants him to be at least a bit calmer before he tries to ask if Nightmare wnats to get clean.

His mates luckily all listen and sit down and get comfortable as they start checking each other. Corrupt smiles, that is good. This way he is at least sure that they are all alright and no one is hurt.

Corrupt turns back to Nightmare who is staring at him. But he looks away as soon as Corrupt looks at him. Corrupt chuckles "It is alright... I can only imagine I must look very strange to you."

Ngihtmare shrugs and mutters "Not... that weird..." he grins a tiny bit as he glances up at him "I am a treespirit..."

Corrupt chcukles and nods "true..."

Nightmare glances to the side and Corrupt realises what Nightmare must be glancing it. Corrupt slowly makes one of his tentacles raise a little and makes it wave.

Nightmare blinks and looks at Corrupt "Are those..."

Corrupt nods "They are... made of negative energy." he brings it closer "We got that in common. Both of us have powers connected to the more negative things to feel." he lets the tendril hover near Nightmare.

Nightmare stares at it before very slowly touching the tendril. As soon as he touches it the negativity and magic in his being reacts. Because the area around the tendril starts to shine and show of cyan coloured swirls.

Nightmare stares and starts to smile "wow... I didn't know my stuff could be pretty..." he touches one of the shown swirls wiht his other hands and the area of effect expands a tiny bit.

Corrupt nods as he mutters "Even if everyone looks down on negativity. It has its good adn beautiful sides. Everything has, including the negative emotions."

Nightmar elooks unconvinced and that doesn't surprise Corrupt. Nightmare is used to being harrassed, bullied, hurt and abused over what he was connected to. His powers and role only every brough him pain.

Maybe Corrupt can at least show him the more beautiful side of their emotional powers. Show it is a part of healing and growth. That it has a connection to justice and protecting others.

Nightmare ends up focussing back on the tentacle in front of him and watching their magic react to one another. Familiar and calm. Both magicks seem to know the other and it helps Ngihtmare feel safe.

Some movement by his side and Ngihtmare watches as Cross is now near him before sitting on the ground with his back against the couch. Ngihtamre shoots him a look for a moment before calming down when the other's attention isn't on him. Nightmare turns back to the tentacle.

Cross looks over nervously before turning to Corrupt "what... what is the plan? are we just... going to..." he shoots Ngihtmare a look "Can we just keep him?"

Nightmare freezes and grabs the tentacle tighter.

Corrupt frowns as he looks at Nightmare. The idea... of leaving him somewhere? No... they can't just leave him somewhere.

Cross rubs his arm as he continues to speak "Like... I am not... sure how good I am at this dad thing?" he cringes "But I can learn! probably." he grins as he looks nervous.

Killer laughs as he lounges on the other couch, obviously watching them "I mean. I think this one is dips for either Horror or Dust. You know. Cyan of Cors and red of either of them makes purple for little nightlight."

Nightmare shoots Killer a glare "I wasn't pregnant."

horror hums and nods "Dust then. I don't have enough magic to get anyone pregnant."

Dust shrugs "Cool. I am upper-dad."

Killer grins "It has been decided!" and he throws his arms out with a laugh.

Corrupt sighs deeply as he looks back at Nightmare however just looks at the other four. Looking a tiny bit more relaxed and with a slightly tilted skull.

Corrupt speaks softly "Are you okay with staying here for a little bit? I swear to you that no one will harm you here, ever." It is why he made this place. it was a place of safety and shelter. For himself and those he holds so dear.

Nightmare looks at him, looks at the others, then looks at where their magicks interact and strengthen each other. Nightmare frowns but nods "Okay..."

Corrupt smiles "Thank you." he looks at his mates "How do you four feel?"

Killer grins "A bit tired but nothing too bad."

Cross nods and sits up straight "We are ready to do whatever!"

Corrupt sees both Horror and Dust give their own okays before nodding "Cross and Killer, can you two go to Littletale and get some supplies? We will need clothes foremost but anything that can fit a ten year old is helpful." furniture will come later once they figure out which room is right for the tiny prince-

Oh... Corrupt is already considering calling him prince compared to his own king title...

Maybe his mates have a point about how this whole situation happened. He does feel very protective over Nightmare... Again things to consider when he has the time.

He focusses on the mission "Dust. If you can go around the castle and secure the place. Make it safer." a glance confirms that Dust shoots their training room a look before nodding. He had figured Dust would understand what he meant without having to point out how many weapons they have, which will just make Ngihtmare nervous.

He looks at Horror "Love?"

Horror grins and nods "I will be in the kitchen. Allergies?"

Corrupt shakes his skull and looks at Nightmare "Not that i can remember... Nightmare? Are there any things you don't like the taste or texture off?"

Nightmare looks confused "texture?"

Corrupt smiles "Well yeah... I know I dislike either quite a few things that feel strange to me to eat. Anything you don't like?"

Nightmare thinks before speaking "I don't like.... mushy stuff? feels weird to chew..."

Corrupt looks at Horror and Horror nods before looking at Nightmare "Anything you like?"

Nightmare blinks and actually focusses on Horror for a moment. His hold on his tentacle tightens but seems to relax when he sees that Horror just waits as he stays in place and doesn't get closer.

Nightmare looks away and shrugs "Don't have stuff that i really like..." he rubs the tentacle. maybe it helps to sooth him?

Horror nods "Fair enough. We will have to get you to taste test a few things to see what you like." and he walks off before he can get a reply.

The others had already quietly left the room which Ngihtmare registers as he looks around soft "They move quiet..."

Corrupt nods "I know. I hardly ever hear them. I notice them by sensing their emotions more than anything."

Nightmare looks up unsure "They... they won't get mad? Others always get mad when i... used that..."

Corrupt smiles and shakes his skull "They won't... Will you let me help you get cleaned up?"

Ngihtmare blinks and looks down only to stare at the mess he is. Clearly not having realised that "Oh... euh..." he looks unsure as he looks hard at Corrupt "You... ARe you the one who spoke to me?"

Corrupt frowns as he tilts his skull "spoke?"

Nightmare nods as he rubs his hand "When... whenever i was sad and scared... I always heard this voice... it was very quiet and begged me to stay near... let them help... Was that you?"

Corrupt frowns as he thinks back. trying to remember the voice that Nightmare speaks off. But he can't remember those moments... What he does remember instead are his dream. showing the other side of the same conversation. Corrupt looks at Nightmare "I must admit I am unsure myself. I do not have memories of my own from before you ate the apple. I do... however... have your memories. For a long time i beleived those to be my own."

Nightmare looks away ashamed and mutters "oh...."

Corrupt shakes his skull "You don't need to be ashamed... you are a child... you shouldn't have had the pressure on you that was placed on you... and those who hurt you... they are the ones who are wrong. You never did anything wrong."

Ngihtmare nods but looks sad "I... I thought you were that voice... you sounded familiar and... I felt like i knew you."

Corrupt frowns and speaks sfotly "There are however dreams i had. Dreams that I wasn't you. But looking on from the outside... unable to assist. But I wanted to help you."

Nightmare thinks it over before looking at Corrupt and nods "okay... I would like being clean..."

Corrupt smiles and carefully picks Nightmare up. Noticing now that any goop touching any bones on Ngihtmare causes the same effect as the touches to the tentacles had caused. He hadn't noticed in his panic before.

Corrupt slowly leaves the living room and goes towards the hall before going up the stairs. As he walks he points at each room and area as he softly explains what is what. Ngihtmare looks around in shock and mutters about it being an actual castle. Corrupt smiles as he feels the excitement slowly start to appear in the younger empath.

They get to Corrupts room and he takes Ngihtmare towards the bathroom. Ngihtmare looks around confused as his hold tightens "what?"

Corrupt speaks softly as he explaisn how the bathroom works before turning on the tab of the bath. Letting Nightmare feel the water before making sure the water is nice and comfortable. He lets Ngihtmare sit by the water and play wiht it as he goes to look through the soaps and brushes. Getting everything needed to help clean up the young skeleton.

It only takes a moment before Corrupt returns to Nightmare's side. Ngihtmare looks nervous at him before looking at the water "will... will the water hurt you?"

corrupt stops and stares at Ngihtmare. He had expected th young skeleton to be worried about being exposed and naked in front of someone he didn't know. instead he is worried about Corrupt.

Corrupt smiles "I will be fine. Water does not bother me." to show he puts his hand in the water and shows how his goop just doesnt'mix with the water, all the rises off him was some old dirt from the battle. Nightmare looks at it curiously and touches it. the goop still lights up when their magic meets.

Ngihtmare frowns "why does it do that?"

Corrupt hums and shrugs "I can only assume it is because our magics have a similar source. it recognises each other as-" family. He manages to stop himself.

Nightmare tilts his skull as he stares at him. a tiny smile appears on his face "I already got a mom though."

Corrupt sighs and looks at the younger monster "please don't start to. I already have four of them doing that joke."

Nightmare chuckles before looking at the water "Bath time?"

Corrupt nods and gently helps Ngihtmare out of his dirty clothes and into the water. Ngihtmare hums happily and relaxes. Corrupt looks him over but doens't see any scars or marks of the past wounds. completely healed.

Corrupt smiles "You really are healed..." It makes it worth it. Makes it worth having to experience the pain of Ngihtmare splitting from his body.

Nightmare looks in awe at his body "You healed me... You kept your promise."

Corrupt frowns as he starts helping the younger monster bath as he still can't quite move right yet "What do you mean?"

Ngihtmare hums as he relaxes into his hold, full trust "The voice... it said that if i just gave in. To accept help. That the pain would stop." he smiles "You stopped the pain."

Corrupt looks at him before smiling "I am happy I was able to help you. I was worried before... That i had hurt you... that eating the apple to make me, destroyed you."

Nightmare keeps looking at him. Some suspicion in his feelings before he relaxes and smiles back. believing him. Why would Nightmare just believe Corrupt on his word-

Oh... of course...

Nightmare and Corrupt are both empaths. They can feel the other and feel that they are both honest. That they don't want to hurt each other.

That is what the trust is build upon. Something that was clear instantly from their first interaction.

After that Corrupt just helps Nightmare get clean as Ngihtmare uses the water to slwoly move his limbs.

Nightmare looks unhappy with the uneasy movement.

Corrupt chcukles "You were asleep for a long time Nightmare. It will take some time before you regain your full movement again."

Nightmare looks at him "Why... why did Drema shoot you?" he looks so confused "Your magic is like mine... why would he attack you?"

Corrupt stops and sighs "Your brother hates me. Because He thought I killed you."

Nightmare frowns as he looks up at him "But... you didn't... it was.. them... the villagers... not you..." he frowns "did you tell Dream that?"

Corrupt sighs "I tried to explain it to him a long time ago... He didn't beleive me."

Nightmare just looks sad as he leans heavily into his hold "He never believed me either."

Corrupt frowns "I am sorry."

Nightmare shrugs as he moves the dirty water around "I am used to it..."

Corrupt rubs his shoulders "People believe what you say here. I promise. They will listen to you."

Nightmare frowns before nodding "okay."

Corrupt nods before smiling "Ready to get dressed?"

Nightmare frowns at the sad pile of clothes "i guess?"

Corrupt shakes his skull and stands up "You are comfortable right? stable? No leanign to the side?"

Ngihtmare looks unsure but nods "I am okay... No one will get in?"

Corrupt nods "no one will bother you." Ngihtmare accepts it and Corrupt quickly goes ot his closet and reaches around. It doesn't take long before finding a soft sweater and some sweats. He returns to the bathroom and helps Ngihtmare dry off before helping him get dressed.

Clean and comfrotable safely in his arms.

Corrupt looks at Nightmare "ready to get some food?"

Nightmare looks at him before nodding "okay."

Corrupt leaves his room and goes towards the kitchen to meet up with one of his mates. Hopefully the others will like and accept Nightmare as easily as Corrupt did.

[transwolfsmut]

CW. Force feminization followed by soft force masc, some intox. Older cis guy 4 younger trans guy; I imagine them as being around 45 and 22 but adjust as you please in your imagination.

This is an erotic fantasy. IRL I do not condone any way of disrespect towards trans bodies and identities; and I'm an adult trans man + gender fluid.

You've been for a while at the bar when you notice I've been watching you. You've come here on your own, unwinding after a though week. I've seen you have a cheeseburger and 2-3 beers while I drink some harder liquor. You are a cute boy and you catched my attention right away with your alt clothing, like you're trying very hard to look rugged and masc. I knew that you're trans, it's not my first time around you boys and I've never hidden how much I like your smaller hands, your curvy bodies, your chin fuzz, your masculine ways, your smell, your taste. You get startled when you notice you're being watched by a handsome middle aged man who smiles at you when you lock eyes with him. For a split second you feel this weird sense of opposing gender envy and sexual attraction, looking at my salt-and-pepper beard, the chiseled jawline, how good the shirt falls into my chest, the insinuated bulge in my jeans. The hairs of your nape stand and your eyes nervously go back to the remaining fries on your plate when you see me pick up my glass and walk towards you. I sit next to you and your heart is pounding.

I introduce myself and offer a hand to shake. You aren't the guy that is used to talking to strangers but there's something in my voice that makes you feel relaxed, almost hypnotized. You notice a tiny trans flag enamel pin on my denim jacket and you wonder if I'm trans or an ally- either way it makes you feel safe and start to relax around me. I offer to buy you a drink and when you ask for another beer I laugh a bit. "No, kid, you've gotta drink like a grown man." I ask for a couple more drinks, same of what I've been drinking before. I drink it down in a gulp and lock my eyes into yours, waiting for you to do the same. You do so, nervous. The liquor burns in your throat and warmth rushes beneath your skin. I smile, it's a pretty smile. I ruffle your hair. "There you are, my man." You blush. You didn't get annoyed at me ruffling your hair, it actually felt good to be petted like a good dog.

We go on talking and I go on getting you drunk. You know I am. You're getting dizzy, you laugh, you're enjoying the company, you finally feel relieved from the week's stress. Making a friend, that's something you didn't expect tonight. It feels good, the attention of an older man who actually shows interest in you, your chit chat about the stuff that you like. You lean your head on my shoulder for a second and then you jolt back to sitting straight, you've gotten too comfortable around me and feel ashamed. You don't even know if I'm into men, but you've felt kinda attracted to me. Is it the liquor? Is it the loneliness? Is it my musky scent, the protective aura around me? I grope your leg, a bit too close to your crotch. "Let's get somewhere more private." I suggest in a whisper. Your eyes widen, you blush and nod without looking at me.

I pay for the consumption and we leave the bar. "Are you out of your mind!?!?" Your brain screams at you, but you don't stop. You follow me into my car, you gasp when I lean into you and kiss you, you are melting at the way my beard tickles you and how I'm exploring the inside of your mouth with my tongue. I hold the hair of the back of your head brusquely and pull you away from me. "You ok with this, man?" I ask. You nod, speechless. I smile. "Fine, let's go home".

My place is nothing special, the small apartment you'd expect from a single man. I am groping your butt as I push you to the bedroom and into my bed. It's fluffy and comfortable. You'd happily sleep away the intoxication of the alcohol but I'm quickly on top of you and you realize my erection is rubbing on you bum. I lick your ear, and you roll on the bed to face me. "God, you're so handsome" I compliment as my hand creeps down between your legs. I rub on your bits through the hard fabric of your denim pants, and in the moment you moan, I step away. You're a bit perplexed, then you see me strip away from my jacket and shirt and go to the nightstand to grab a joint I carefully pre-rolled before I left the house. "You don't mind?" I ask, while already blazing it up. You shrug. You've done pot before, maybe had some edibles, but that shit I'm smoking definitely smells stronger than anything you've had before. I offer the joint. You take it, smoke from it and cough violently. "Good boy" I say while I again caress the spot between your legs. You smoke some more and the movements of my hand get more pleasurable. You soon realize I'm rewarding you- the more you smoke, the better it feels down there. You're feeling so relaxed, it feels good to let your guard down. You let me strip you from your pants and I start eating you out. I'm careful to only lick your clit, I'm not going anywhere near your hole. I mean your dick. But it's so small I can't think of it as anything than a clit. I notice you're getting wet. You're too high to offer any resistance when I grab you and place you in the middle of the bed, undoing your shoes and taking away every piece of clothing except for your binder. I take off the remaining of my clothing and lean on you, rubbing my boner on your pubic area.

"You want it inside of you". I whisper in your ear. You gasp. "You do want it inside, don't you?" You nod, you shake your head, uncertain. "Oh, puppy, don't deny it. Your body knows." I tap on your bits and a sweet splotchy sound confirms you're soaking wet. "You wouldn't be so naturally lubed up if you didn't want it". My cock is teasing at your hole. "It wouldn't feel so good if you didn't need to be filled". It's just one inch of me going inside of you, parting your labia. "You wouldn't spread open like this if your body wasn't made for this." You moan, as you feel me slowly penetrate you. "Your body wouldn't have this precious hole if it wasn't meant to be filled with cock". You feel it moving inside you. You suddenly realized I never put on a condom, but you're so dazed by the alcohol, the weed and the pleasure to care. I catch up speed, going in and out of you. "You wouldn't enjoy cock in your pussy so much if you weren't made for this... To pleasure males". You open your mouth, you want to protest but only more moaning comes out as I rub your clit while pumping my penis inside of you. "Oh you wanna say something?" I pull out and force you to open your mouth and take my cock covered in your wetness. "Can you detect those? The taste of your vagina, the smell of my balls? The natural distinction of your body and mine?" You're choking on my cock the further into your mouth I push it and face fuck you while I extend a hand behind me to reach into your clit and rub it. It feels both pleasurable and degrading. "I'm gonna pull out and you will say Yes, Sir" I tell you. I wait for one more minute before I do so. You gasp for air, confused and dripping spit. "Yes, Sir" you hear your own voice reply, but it doesn't feel like your own. "Good girl" I whisper in your ear as I ram back inside your pussy and it clenches around my shaft, your hips move by mere instinct in reaction to my own movements.

You hear your voice moaning, and yet it doesn't seem like your own. You're making high pitched girly noises while some guy you met in a bar is fucking your cunt. Perhaps it's the anonymity of being strangers what's allowing you to show yourself like this. Perhaps it's all the booze and the weed that's brought down your defenses. Perhaps it was me who saw through a crack in your stoic mask and knew what you needed. Some good thick cock pumping away all the worries. Your mind is drifting away when I pull out from you, panting. We're not done yet, and you know it so you just remain on the bed. You see me take something out of a drawer.

"It's ok, my man. Let her have this." I tell you before ripping your binder with a pocket knife. I have quickly and masterfully picked up the fabric with one hand while I ran the blade with the other hand, making it slide between your boobs. Just a tiny and swift caress of the knife on the center of your chest, and it feels like I just cut through some energetic field of yours. You fall into the mattress, your binder now like an open vest revealing your tummy and your chest, your tits bouncing liberated from the restriction. You feel ashamed and free. How come? This opposing sensations clash in your brain and before you can even start to process it, I'm grabbing your tits and my mouth latches onto one of your nipples. I lick on your nipples- going back and forth between the right one and the left one- I'm making a circular motion with my hands that feel just right and then I suck on your nipples and press on your breasts as if I wanted to milk you. "You're just divine, sweet one. To be praised, to be corrupted. I want to do so many things to you." My voice is jumping between need and authority. I start to finger you, circling between using a single finger to press directly into your G spot, using two fingers to explore deeper and three of them to dilate your pussy before I use it again with my cock. "I know you're a boy but let's be honest, you're enjoying being my sweet girl. Don't you?" You nod. You obey when I make you take off what's left of your binder and and get on all fours. "Say you want this". My dick is pressing at your opening, my hands are making circles on your buttocks. "I want this." You confess in a whisper. "I need this". Your teeth tighten around your words, you're too ashamed to actually say how much you need this and it feels so good to finally admit it. "You're such a good girl" I say when my cock slides back into you and you gasp with pleasure, feeling it go as deeply as possible and poke at your cervix. It's a bit painful but you can take it. "You were made for this. Your body was made to take cock like this. It's ok. Your body knows it's female and it doesn't matter your mind is that of a man. It feels good to be bred." I grab your titties and milk them while I fuck you deeper and faster. "A horny, eager female boy that was desperate to serve his purpose, her purpose. To be filled with cock and please a real male man". You feel me making circles very deep inside of you feel your body twitch in pleasure like never before. "Say you're my girl." I'm stroking your clit with one hand, grabbing your hip with the other and giving you additional movement so my cock digs more aggressively into your cunt. "Say you are my girl." You're so close. Your legs are shaking and your body is dripping sweat. You feel your heartbeat deep inside your vagina. "Say you are my girl". You feel it coming from inside, this heat, this thundering wave. You raise your upper body from the mattress. I'm sort of kneeling and you're sitting on my thighs, my penis buried inside of you. Your hips bouncing up and down, taking the penetration desperate for release. "I'm your girl!" You are almost screaming. "I'll be a girl for you!" You cum. It's massive. A release like never before. You've squirted on me and soon you realize my own cum is dripping from your cunt. The sticky heat makes you shiver, and you feel me make a few more circular movements around your cervix before I pull out and my cock rests between your labia. You look downwards and see your own body. Your exposed breasts and my penis between your legs. It sort of looks like if it was your own dick. Your brain is confused. Your mind, your gender and your sex feel like static.

I push you softly down into the bed, I caress your hair. Your eyes close, and your body goes limp with drowsiness. You hear me walk to the bathroom and move some stuff there. I come to you and lead you to the bathroom where I have set up a small chair, where you now sit. I make you raise your head, holding your chin. I gaze into your face, still blushing from the intense sex. I comb your hair and start trimming it. You're so deep down into your subspace you just let me do whatever I want to your hair. I use an electric clipper and some scissors on you, like a soft caress. "A man like you deserves a good haircut" I whisper in your ear as you feel the hairs falling on your shoulders. "You'll make one lovely gentleman". You feel the cool air in your scalp, it's refreshing.

I lead you into the shower and let the warm water carry away the trimmed hairs away from your shoulders. Your body relaxes and feels safe as you allow me to bathe you, a certain sense of danger that was lingering from having a stranger do all those nasty things to you is washed away. You know you are safe with me. The smell of soap and stereotypical male scented shampoo fill your nosetrils. I take a bit too long to wash your genitals, rubbing my hand between your labia and making you tremble from the stimulation, but I stop as soon as I see you're getting too excited about it. I wrap you in a towel, and take you back into the bedroom. You are smiling goofily when I show you a mirror and let you look at your brand new haircut. It suits you fine. A rush of gender euphoria jolts up your spine, and your sense of gender is no longer mixed up. The smells of the bath, the haircut- you already feel more manly.

You see me grab some stuff from my clothes drawer and you look in awe as I hand you a brand new binder, much better than the one I just ripped while fucking you. You had forgotten about it, distracted by all the pleasure. "You wouldn't think I'd leave you without any means to flatten your chest, right? Go, on try it". A thought crosses your mind: did I just have a drawer full of binders in different sizes or have I been watching you for days or even weeks and calculated your size? Do I do this often to other trans guys? You shake the thought away and you put the binder on. It fits great. You put your shirt back on and just before pull your underwear up, I get close to you coming from behind, feral. You feel a pinch in your buttock. You turn around hastily and find out I've got an injection in my hand. Your eyes widen, confused; your heart starts racing, afraid. It lasts only a second because I show you a vial of testosterone. The fear becomes surprise and then exhilaration. I've just injected you T. You hadn't started before, this is the first time the hormone enters your body. You want to get angry at me for doing so without telling but you can't, you're just amazed as the possibility of changes open up in your mind. I turn around to deposit the vial and injection in a shelf and grab something more from my closet.

I stick my hand down your undies and you feel something different: I'm shoving a packer in between your legs. You didn't have one when you arrived at my place. "A man needs his own dick" I whisper as I pull my hand out to rub your new soft dick over your clothing. I push you to the wall and masturbate your new dick while grinding my own on you. "Maybe next time I'll fuck you in the ass, make you take it as men do". You moan, about to cum again. "That shot I gave you will make you insufferably horny. You'll have to get back to me, to this place, so you can get more of that T-juice and to get fucked... Who knows? Maybe one day I'll allow you to top me". I squish your balls and jerk you off strategically, you feel the packer pressing against your bits in just the perfect way so it feels like it's your own penis. "Will you come back?" You nod. I rub you faster and harder. "You're such a good boy". You cum. You surrender. You're mine. My girl. My boy. All of you. Mine.

[lailawinchesterr]

love me until i love myself — jensen ackles

summary: you’re exhausted, but jensen deserves a good night out, not that he wouldn’t notice — tags: domestic jensen basically, gn!reader i think, migraines — universe: comatose

masterlist

You’ve been looking forward to Jensen’s hiatus the second you knew it was coming. Obviously, they’d said a while ago when they’d be done filming but it was announced when they first started months ago, at the beginning of the school year, that there’s no way you’d remember it.

But now, he’s back, finally. You get to see your husband again and it won’t be for a week— it’s for two months. The entire summer vacation. So not only are you spending it with him, but so are the kids which you’re extremely grateful for, it’s been getting hard giving in to their every demand when it’s usually their father that spoils them that way. And it isn’t for any other reason than the fact that you’re usually busy. 

Which is what brings you here, to this time of day, at six in the evening while you’re getting ready to go to the Padalecki’s house. Of course you’re extremely supportive of Jensen, there’s no way you aren’t, but you’re tired, you have been for a few months working yourself to the bone with the kids and your job. But then he came home today, said that Jared insisted they celebrate finishing season 14 at his house, and he couldn’t refuse, and there you are. 

You didn’t complain, just put whatever dinner you were thinking of making right back in the fridge, both relieved and annoyed. Though the annoyance is largely due to exhaustion. You’re sure Jensen can see it, but you’re trying to brush over it, make it seem better than it actually is because the truth is that you’re halfway asleep choosing Rhyme’s outfit. She’s running around her closet with different dresses and you’re trying to convince her shorts underneath are quite crucial— she disagrees.

But it happens. Your makeup is on, Jensen found the shirt he was looking for, Emmy finds her iPad and you’re all finally in the car. You check your phone and find a missed call from Gen that you prepare yourself mentally for before you answer, “Hey, Gen! No yeah, we’re on our way— it's just a little something, don’t worry— no, no we’re almost there. Okay, yeah, bye.”

Jensen’s eyes are already on yours when you’ve ended the call before they go back to the road. “She’s asking if we bought something.”

“But we didn’t.”

“But we will.” He smiles and— okay, maybe you’re a little less tired seeing him so happy. He really does deserve tonight and it’s very low key, just your two families. “We can stop at the bakery on our way— or we could bring fruit?”

You hear it the second you say it and shake your head. You’re not a hundred percent sure what she has in her backyard so you probably shouldn’t bring something incase she’s already growing it. “Yeah, bakery. But not the one next to their house, the blue—”

“I know which one.” He says, noticing how fast your talking. Usually something you do when you’re tired or sick. Which took some time for him to catch on to at first considering how different that reaction is from anyone else who’s ever gotten sick. “You okay?” He asks, his voice gentle as he reaches a hand out to hold yours in your lap. You look over at him, nodding.

“‘M okay, just don’t want you to miss the turn so we can get it.” He doesn’t push it after that, and thankfully he doesn’t miss the turn either so maybe everything will work out okay tonight.

The night is great, Gen has something simmering in the kitchen while you all get settled in. The kids are playing in the boys’ room except for Emmy who’s sitting between you and Jensen with a coloring book you got her months ago. Your biggest fear was always raising a child who’s attached to their device so you brought her a book almost the same size for her to color in if her screen time for the day is up. She’s usually complacent, like today. And if that’s not an indication of how well tonight is going, you don’t know what is.

Jensen has an arm sprawled behind you both, all four of you talking about the hiatus and filming— Jared and Jensen sharing stories on their past months on set where they didn’t see the both of you. “But I think they’re giving us an extra month this time.”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise at Jared’s words, leaning in, “What?”

Jensen hadn’t mentioned any extra months. And you assumed it’d be two like everytime. “Yeah, we’re not sure though, I heard Kripke saying he’s gonna want to be there for the series finale and he’s trying to fix the schedule so he’s free.”

“That makes sense, have you guys even seen him this season?” You ask, glancing at your husband before facing Jay again. 

They both answer ‘no’ at the same time and you ‘huh’ while leaning back in your seat. Okay. Well at least Jensen isn’t hiding anything from you, they really aren’t sure. You weren’t worried but you would’ve been curious if he’d done it. 

Jared’s talking about something on set that reminds Gen of something in their pool and we laugh at whatever she says— you hardly know what Jensen is saying from next to you because why are they all suddenly so loud? And they’re spinning. Great, the room is spinning. Maybe you should sit down— you’re already sitting and your having a migraine in the middle of a conversation as you try your hardest not to wince visibly.

All you notice is Gen leaving the room and Jensen saying something before his hand is holding yours and you’re suddenly not sitting anymore, your migraine is worse, and Jensen has white dots all over his face. 

“Hey, c’mon, baby, you okay? What’s wrong, talk to me.”

“Just— ‘m sorry, just a migraine, I’ll be fine.” It’s not the first time, won’t be the last. You’ve grown accustomed to having them but you try to eat well and take meds if you think it’ll happen when you're out of the house, this one just came out of nowhere. Or, not out of nowhere, you have been throwing yourself into homework and housework and studying relentlessly these past few months and you thought tonight you’d get to calm down instead you’re here.

“What? No, don’t apologize. You’re… you look tired, I don’t want you to push yourself like that for my sake.” He frowns, placing his hands on your shoulders to try and steady you. “Come on, sit down and I’ll see if there’s anything for you to eat.” 

“No, Jensen, it’s okay. I can wait for dinner.”

“We both know you can’t.” You sigh, shutting your eyes for a moment, trying to think of how to make it better. You don’t have any paracetamol, but you do know what triggers it.

“Lights, please, Jen.” He hears you the second you say it, shutting them off then walking back over to you. The kitchen’s open so it doesn’t put you in complete darkness but it’s enough to calm your aching head. “Thanks.” You look up at him, letting him worry over you like this, it’s pulling at your heart. You can usually hide it pretty well if you’re not in the house, but for some reason it’s hitting harder now.

“You gotta eat something.”

“I know, I can wait though, don’t worry.” He doesn’t look like he believes you but you're being honest. You can wait for an hour. Your head will definitely be pounding by the end of the night, and only fourteen hours of continuous sleep will fix it, but you can do it. You have occasionally.

He’s a little convinced as he presses a kiss to your hair and helps you off the chair, “Just sit down, okay? Don't overwhelm yourself.” You nod in agreement, since you were planning on it anyway, then you get back to the couch, this time your heads on Jensen’s chest and it helps to be far away from devices (Emmy’s IPad) and to have him run his fingers through your hair. 

“I’m really proud of you. And I’m happy for you, I wanted today to be super special.” 

He lets out a laugh, low enough that Jared doesn’t ask, “It’s special spending the day with you, sweetheart, you know that.”

You do, he’s made sure of it everyday he’s ever been next to you, still doesn’t stop you from sometimes thinking otherwise, only because of your own head. “Yeah, you and Jay did well with season 14, and I can’t wait to see it.”

He leans down to gently kiss your head again and it makes you smile, letting your eyes flutter closed. Just a few minutes since Jared’s on his phone and Jensen just playing with Emmy and your hair, it’s peaceful. As peaceful as it’ll get in this hectic life of yours— that’s you’ll always share with Jensen. 

title: did you know that there’s a tunnel under ocean blvd by lana del ray.

comatose verse: you and jensen’s little life cause i love him sm and i’ll probably write more for him so u basically have three kids: emmy (4), lucas (5), rhyme (7). & gen and jared have their pretty kids tom, shep & odette!

fucking kill me why can’t i write one dean/sam or jensen/jared fic without the other being in it ughhh. anyways, this is super self indulgent and you should probably take my phone away cause this is like the seventeenth thing i’ve posted in two weeks or something and i don’t even plan on slowing down. to the sam request in my inbox, you’re next (i think).

[16-pennies]

a personal update

I don't usually share much about myself on this blog, but it seems that writing Silver has changed the trajectory of my life in a way I never foresaw and it feels appropriate to mark that here somehow.

read more because this ended up longer than I intended but

tl;dr I got a visa to move across an ocean and live with one of my readers

In November of last year, while in the throes of finishing my longest story ever, I got a kind ask from @starsoforionwrites. Without going into it too much, I did not have much going for me at the time. I'd just quit my master's degree after only a semester, had to move back in with my parents, couldn't get a job, etc. I wasn't doing well.

But then I got this friendly message! And as I was sitting there at my local cafe, trying to escape my chaotic family and wracking up more credit card debt paying for a chai I couldn't afford, I decided to reach out.

So we started chatting. At first it was about fandom and our stories, but fragments of real life began to slip in. And starsoforion is just so much fun to talk to. I started looking forward to the time of day when they would finish work and we could talk, staying up until ridiculous hours because we just didn't want to stop. Learning morsels of information about who they are, piecing together all the bits and pieces into this person I liked so much.

By mid-December, we'd gone from joking about meeting to buying airfares. I finally got to hug them for the first time at the international arrivals door at the airport at the end of January.

We spent a wonderful 10 days together and by the end of it, we decided we were going to try to be together.

Which, as far as immigration goes, is (thankfully and surprisingly!) not terribly difficult for us, given our particular combination of citizenships and residencies.

So I doubled down and got a job to start saving as we made plans for our future. After six months apart working hard, we saw each other again, this time with me visiting them just to make sure I could see myself living in the UK before I dropped money on the visa application.

And then... everything's worked out. I got the visa. I'm in the midst of packing up my things and leaving my job to move overseas before the end of the year.

I can't believe how writing fanfiction has brought this special person into my life and given me this incredible opportunity, or how different my future looks from just one year ago. I'm doing so well, I'm so proud of myself, and so happy.

so there you go, kids. follow your dreams. comment on your fav fics. date the authors! who knows what could happen 💕

p.s

if you're interested in the logistical/immigration side of this story, I have been blogging about it at @bels-adventures

[mojoomojojo]

also, welcome to the unglamorous life of having a piss kink, am I going to spend the rest of the day insanely turned on because I almost pissed myself in public at the start of the morning? you can bet on it

why is my brain like this 🤣🤣

[pardonmydelays]

i also think it's kinda cool how tyler makes me want to learn stuff

[flowercrowngods]

i don't know how to be merely acquaintances when we used to be friends. or i think we used to be. i don't know how to yearn for a simple hello when you've been heaping your affection on me months ago, and i don't know how to talk to you when you won't say anything. when suddenly it's all about me. you know i have nothing to say, you know my brain is void of everything but horribleness and i cannot tell you about my day because i don't even know about my day. i cannot tell you about my day when i know you won't listen, when i know you'll apply your philosophy to my world and don't believe me when i say that everything is terrible. i don't know how to be the person you seem to think i am, or the person you want in your life. i don't know if you want anyone else in your life now that you're in love and sappy, found another recipient for your affections, leaving me empty and wounded and yearning.

you said you missed me. said it many times, while i was gone. now i'm back, have been back, and i wonder how you missed me, why you missed me, when you won't talk to me. i think you mistook missing for worrying. i think you mistook caring for a feeling of obligation. i think you like missing me more than talking to me.

and i think i can't breathe with how much that hurts

[soppsop]

i just rememberd adhd meds exist and now im upset because i could have that if it wasn't for that freakin neurologyst we went to see that told us it was impossible that i could have adhd because i have good grades in school. literally the ONLY question he asked me and immediately said it was impossible. we spent like 5 minutes there. he could've at least... explained something???? anything?????? and now i'd feel bad about asking my parents to see another neurologist because that costs a lot of money :((

[incandescent-irrigation]

im going ham im going insane ive already gone insane im counting hours until i see mithrun animated so i can let go of the last remaining shreds of sanity

[helpimstuckinafandom]

Me starting another bg3 run where I will make virtually all the same decisions in mostly the same order as if there isn't different branching paths

[melit0n]

.

[tvrningout]

tldr for the below post/vent is i may or may not be away for a few more days! we’ll just see, and thank you for being patient with me as always 💜

maybe i’ll wait a few more days till i really come back? i dunno if that’s really the solution bc i just feel a weird distance from everyone rn, and that’ll just get worse if i stay away, i feel like. but i can also tell i’m probably at my worst as far as hormonal mood spirals go, and i really don’t wanna subject myself or y’all to that. it’s a rock and a hard place bc no matter what, i’m gonna feel bad to some extent — just if i stay away, i can maybe manage it a lil better. i really don’t know, so we’ll just see how the next few days go.

sorry to be so up and down, and thank you for being patient with me ;v; i really do hope all of you are taking care of yourselves and having good days!!