#i was overstimulated and i am beyond Stressed

[clumsyhusky06]

you know it's a Moment when you sit down on the floor of the shower

#(<- bitch who spent half an hour sobbing on the shower floor. I'm normal now btw.) #i was overstimulated and i am beyond Stressed #clumsy complaints #i thinks

[ellemj]

What Am I To You?

Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot: SMUT

Summary: You pissed your fuck buddy off and now he only has one question, but it takes a few orgasms to get the right answer out of you.

Warnings: profanity, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, facesitting, light choking, light breeding kink, no use of y/n, praise, spanking, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings. Thank you to @littlemiss-yeehaw for the ones listed above, she's a gem.

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: This filth came from a random 4am thought that created the dialogue in the first paragraph. I had to use it. Everyone should totally beg @littlemiss-yeehaw to post the horny lil sketch she started for this one-shot. Side note, should I start a tag list for people who want to be tagged in all fics I post? Idk, I'm still way too new to Tumblr to be running a blog like this lmfao. I need a team of advisors.

         “Do you know who the fuck you’re talking to? Get on the bed, I’ll show you.” You stay where you are, standing in the doorway of his bedroom with your arms crossed over your chest in a show of defiance. “Get on the fucking bed, right now.” He repeats, pointing a finger at his bed. You can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s seconds away from dishing out a punishment, one that he’ll enjoy far more than you, so you shuffle forward and crawl onto the bed as he watches. Good girl.

You’ve been here before. You know what he wants from you. He wants you on your hands and knees, with no looking back over your shoulder to see what’s coming. So that’s how you settle yourself, on your hands and knees, staring down at the soft, ruffled up bedding beneath you.

“What am I to you?” He asks, his tone scarily calm and even. You take a deep breath and close your eyes. What kind of answer is he looking for? You’re just fuck buddies. You use each other to de-stress after missions. It’s never been anything more, not once in the past two months that it’s been going on has there ever been so much as a hint that it could be something more.

“I don’t know.” You answer honestly. You listen intently as the familiar sound of Bucky’s belt buckle coming undone fills the silence in the room. A chill races through your body, dancing across the surface of your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

“You don’t know…” Bucky tsks. You can’t see him, but he’s standing a couple of feet away from the foot of the bed, letting his eyes rake over your nearly exposed ass as he unbuttons his shirt. The little black dress that you’re wearing barely covers anything with the position you’re in, and he’s fucking thankful for it. In fact, if you hadn’t pissed him off tonight, he probably would’ve found some way to fuck you during the mission just because of that dress. But you pissed him off. “I’ll help you figure it out.” Bucky steps forward now, his warm right hand and cool, metal left hand both gracing the skin of your right ankle as he begins taking off your heels. He drops one to the floor before moving on to the other, and then he strips his shirt off and tosses it to the side as well.

“I thought we were just—”

“You don’t want to finish that sentence.” Bucky warns, effectively cutting you off and giving you a chance to save yourself. It’s beyond clear now that this isn’t just a fuck buddies situation to him anymore. It did start out that way though. Two months ago when you two stumbled into bed together, he proposed a friends-with-benefits type of relationship so casually that you would’ve thought he’d had plenty of them in his lifetime. It worked so well, with the two of you meeting up once or twice a week at either your place or his to blow off steam with good sex. It wasn’t until you were a month in that Bucky started to realize he hated the way you’d leave within half an hour of finishing each other off. He hated that you never slept over. He hated that you still had the freedom to talk to other guys, hell, you could even go out on dates with other guys if you wanted and he wouldn’t be able to say shit about it. Because this was nothing. It was just a casual agreement between friends.

Bucky trails his fingers along your calves slowly, taking his time as he decides what he’s going to do with you. Every other time that you’ve been together, he’s let it be a mutually beneficial thing. There was never a time where only one of you pleased the other, because that would’ve defeated the purpose of the arrangement. He would’ve been perfectly content with solely pleasuring you here and there, giving you everything while taking nothing for himself, but you always reciprocated and he never stopped you. But now, he’s going to do exactly what he wants. He’s going to show you what he is to you in the best way that he knows how: by making you come undone for him, by reminding you that no one else has ever or will ever make you feel the way that he can.

As Bucky pulls his hands away from your calves, you hear the sound of his pants dropping to the floor, the sound of his dog tags shifting around his neck and tapping against his bare chest with his movements, and then the sound of a deep sigh leaving his lips. Anticipation courses through your veins and mixes with adrenaline, creating a dangerous compound that only seems to encourage the wetness seeping into your panties. You shift on the bed, wiggling your hips and wishing you could clench your thighs together for even the smallest amount of friction. Bucky, of course, notices you moving and quickly gains control of the situation.

“Impatient, huh? Do you need something?” He questions slyly, letting his hands connect with your calves once again. You’re fooled by his gentle touch, your body not at all expecting his flesh hand to suddenly smack against your ass. “Answer me.” Holy shit. He’s never been quite like this with you before.

“I need you.” You answer, hoping he’ll give you anything in return.

“You don’t even know what I am to you, yet you need me?”

“Bucky…” Your voice trails off as his hands glide further up your legs, past the crooks of your knees and along the sides of your thighs. When both of his hands reach the curve of your ass, he begins pushing the hem of your dress up around your waist. The silence is deafening.

He wasn’t planning to be so rough with you, but as soon as his eyes land on the tiny black thong that was previously hidden beneath your tiny black dress, his hands start functioning on autopilot. A low groan rumbles past his lips as he pulls your panties to the side with his vibranium hand and shoves two fingers into your cunt, without a single breath of a warning.

“BUCKY!” You cry out, arching your back and trying to pull away from him. He moves his vibranium hand to grip your left hip, holding you firmly in place while his fingers are still buried knuckle-deep within you. Giving you little time to adjust, he begins sliding them in and out, in and out, giving himself a chance to feel how wet and tight you are for him. Fuck. It’s going to test every bit of his resolve and self-discipline to get through what he plans to do to you tonight.

“That’s it, say my name.” He encourages you, pumping his fingers in and out at a steady pace. When he leans in and attaches his lips to your clit, you fist the bedding in both hands and squeeze your eyes shut. Breathy moans and curses fall from your lips as his tongue circles over the most sensitive part of your body, all while his two fingers are curling inside of you. You’ve never been one to go careening toward an orgasm with little-to-no effort, but Bucky is skilled. That familiar knot is twisting tighter and tighter in your lower stomach as he relentlessly toys with your pussy.  He can tell you’re already close to your first orgasm of the night, and as much as he wants to withhold it until you admit that he means something to you, he wants to see you come undone for him even more.

“Bucky, I’m close.” Your voice is breathless, all of your energy is focused on actively denying yourself of your release. For the briefest second, you wonder why your body won’t just go ahead and cum, but then you realize that you want his permission. You want him to tell you to let go, to cum on his fingers and lips. Bucky fucks his fingers into you a little harder and deeper, reaching a spot that has your eyes rolling back in your head and your toes curling. Another loud moan from you has Bucky digging his vibranium fingers into your hip with enough force to leave bruises. He knows you’re right on the edge, and it takes him only a second to figure out why you’re not letting go. He pulls his head back for a moment but lets his fingers continue their work.

“Do you want to cum for me, baby?” He asks. There’s a teasing lilt to his voice that sends heat rushing to your cheeks. You nod your head fervently and he chuckles at your neediness. “Who gets you this wet? This desperate for release?” Fuck.

“You, Bucky.” You moan out your response as he pulls his fingers nearly all the way out and slides them back in at the slowest pace yet.

“Who else?” He demands to know, picking up the pace once again.

“No one, only you.” Your answer is honest and it earns you his mouth back on your clit. He sucks and licks at it like his life depends on your impending orgasm. He gets you right back to the edge within seconds, before breaking away from your clit momentarily just to say cum for me. Your orgasm washes over you in an instant, your pussy clenching down on his two fingers as you unintentionally grind against his mouth. He flattens his tongue against your clit and lets you take everything you need. After a few more seconds of immense pleasure, the legs and arms that have been so dutifully holding you up are threatening to collapse.

“What am I to you?” Bucky repeats his question from earlier, but still, your answer is the same.

“I don’t know.” Your voice is quieter now, weaker since the first orgasm took so much energy out of you. Bucky shakes his head, though you can’t see him from your current position. He didn’t think you’d have a better answer after just one orgasm, but he’s going to give you a chance after each one anyway.

“Lay on your back.” Bucky commands. You do as you’re told. As you finally make eye contact with him, he can see the thankfulness in your gaze. You were getting tired of holding the same position. Bucky steps forward and places one knee on the bed, his hands sliding up your thighs. His fingers snag along the waistband of your thong before he begins pulling it down your legs. You bend your knees to make it easier, and he slips it off gently before dropping it on the floor with your heels and his clothes. He climbs onto the bed now, your legs instantly spreading to let him between them. He crawls over your body and the new sensation of his warm skin against yours is delicious. You wish he would’ve taken your dress off already. When you feel the outline of his hard cock, still covered by his boxers, pressing against your wet, sensitive cunt, your eyes flutter closed and your legs instinctively wrap around his hips. You’ve always been a sucker for this, for having him pressed against you so close yet not close enough. It’s always made you a bit feral and Bucky’s fully aware of that. A knowing smirk spreads across his features as he puts a little more weight into your position, pressing his cock against you a little harder. When you open your eyes and look up at him, he has to remind himself that he can’t just give in a fuck the shit out of you right now. He has an end goal.

“Why do we still have clothes on?” You ask, referring to your dress and his boxers. Bucky chuckles lowly starts circling his hips against you, drawing a soft hum from your pretty lips. He dips his head down and starts leaving light kisses along the side of your neck. He knows that’s a weakness of yours too, his mouth anywhere on your skin. It’s one of the first tactics he deploys when he wants to fuck but he isn’t sure if you’re up for it or not.

“Do you want our clothes off?” Bucky breathes the question against the skin just below your earlobe and you find yourself having trouble concentrating. He can feel you nod, but he doesn’t actually give a damn about what you want right now. He’s not a monster though, so he’ll give you half of what you want. He pushes himself off of you in one swift movement and stands on the floor beside the bed. You turn your head to watch as he slides his boxers down his legs and kicks them off. They join the pile that consists of the rest of his clothes, your heels, and your thong on the floor. When he returns to his position on top of you, you stick out your bottom lip in a pout over him not removing your dress. He’s quick to lean in and suck that bottom lip in between his teeth, biting down on it lightly before slipping his tongue into your mouth. He always tastes so fucking good, though you can never pinpoint what he tastes like. It’s just him. Honestly, you’d let him spit in your mouth if he wanted to.

Bucky kisses a lot like he fucks, with so much passion that it makes your heart race and your mind reel. It makes you think about how mediocre every other kiss with any other guy was, about how kissing was just a minor part of foreplay until you started kissing him. Now kissing is everything. Your hands travel up his sides and settle on either side of his face as you fight to deepen the kiss. When you suck on his tongue, he groans into your mouth and pulls back. You love the way his lips and nose get pink when he kisses you like that.

“No more kissing.” Bucky rasps. You let out a whine that makes his cock twitch. He loves hearing how needy you are for him, but it’s especially enjoyable when he hears how needy you are just for him to kiss you. He starts grinding his now bare cock along the folds of your pussy with just the right amount of pressure, focusing his efforts on your clit. He probably should’ve used his mouth and fingers again for this one, because he’s far too close to cumming just from feeling how wet you are against his shaft. His cock collects your wetness more and more with each thrust of his hips, and for a second he thinks about just letting the tip slide in. He won’t do it though, not yet. He won’t put his cock inside of you until he’s ready to make you cum for the third time.

“You’re being a tease tonight.” You pout, letting your hands find his hips and using your grasp there to pull him harder against you. He stills himself and you let out a frustrated sigh. Why isn’t he giving you more?

“You’re being greedy. You already came once, you should be saying thank you.” Bucky retorts, pushing himself up with his hands and sitting back on his knees between your legs. Your eyes are quick to zone in on his cock, just as his flesh hand is wrapping around it and giving it a firm stroke from the base to the tip. God, you’ve always loved seeing him touch himself. He doesn’t do it in front of you often. Normally the two of you are quick to get down to business and just fuck, but there have been a few very memorable times where you get to see him stroke his cock right before he guides it inside of you. Your tongue darts out, wetting your bottom lip, and for a second Bucky imagines that same tongue all over his fucking cock. No. This isn’t about him tonight. This is about finally making you see what’s been right in front of you all along.

“Please.” The word leaves your lips so softly, so gently, that Bucky’s hand hesitates around his length. He’s never heard you beg before. You’ve never had a reason to, he always gave you what you needed, before you had to ask. A dark feeling settles within his chest as he realizes he likes it.

“Please?” He repeats the word, as if he doesn’t understand the meaning. You see the way his gaze changes from one of lust to one of pure desire. He wants more.

“Please, Bucky. Fuck me.” You give him the most innocent look you can muster up as you lay there in his bed with your pussy exposed and nearly dripping onto his bedding. He tightens his fist around the base of his cock and scrunches his eyes closed, clearly trying to talk himself down from blowing his load way too fucking soon. If he sits there and looks at you any longer, he won’t last, he won’t be able to make it to his end goal tonight. The only thing he can think of to keep himself on track is something that’ll easily obscure his vision of you.

“No, you’re going to sit on my face.” He says roughly, positioning himself on his back next to you. He looks over at you impatiently, he almost looks offended that you’re not already changing positions for him. You’re quick to sit up and swing a leg over his torso, straddling his chest but not making any contact with him yet. “I said my face, sweetheart.”

“I know, but—” You’re about to point out that he’s already eaten you out once tonight and you haven’t even had the chance to reciprocate, when he abruptly grasps your thighs and pulls you over his head. “Fuck.” You mumble the curse word out as he easily pulls you down, your cunt making contact with his mouth as he dives in. You can’t form a single thought as his tongue delves into you. He fucks you with it almost as thoroughly as he did with his fingers just a few minutes ago, thrusting it in and out while your clit brushes against the tip of his nose. His hands slide back to grip your ass and you have to brace your hands on the headboard to keep from putting your full weight on his face. He can feel your resistance and he hates it. He lifts you up an inch just to chastise you.

“I said sit on my fucking face, not hover over it.” He pulls you down again but this time he brings his right hand in to rub harsh circles against your clit as his tongue continues its work on your entrance. You’re panting and breaking out in a sweat within a few seconds. You still haven’t fully sat on his face, so he’s going to give you one more punishment and see if you’ll give in. His vibranium hand moves away from you and the swings back once more, slapping your ass so hard that you fall forward a bit, your cunt landing firmly against Bucky’s mouth. He hums against your pussy in approval, and the sound sends vibrations through your core. Fuck. You’re going to cum a second time and he hasn’t even fucked you yet. When he sets just the right pressure and pace with his flesh fingers on your clit, and his tongue starts lapping into you like eating pussy is his fucking career, your orgasm hits you like a freight train. Your chest is heaving and your knuckles are turning white as your death grip on the headboard threatens to bruise your palms.

“Fuck, I’m cumming. Oh my god, Bucky!” You cry the words out so loudly, yet your voice sounds so far away in your own ears as your orgasm short circuits your entire nervous system. After a few seconds, you realize you’re grinding lazy circles against Bucky’s mouth, and he’s letting you. “Shit.” You mutter, using all of your remaining strength to try to dismount his face. He grasps your thighs to stop you, and then places a long, gentle kiss right against your clit, sucking on it in the slightest bit as he pulls back. Then, he lets you go. You collapse on the bed next to him, your breasts threatening to spill over the low-cut neckline of your dress from tonight’s activities thus far.

“What am I to you?” Bucky asks a third time, rolling onto his side to face you. He gazes at you with a much gentler expression than earlier as he brushes a few loose strands of hair away from your face. He thinks you look so damn perfect like this. You always glow after sex, but after two orgasms you could be mistaken for the fucking sun.

“Bucky…” Your voice trails off as you desperately search your brain for the answer he’s looking for. He obviously doesn’t want you to say that he’s your fuck buddy, and maybe he isn’t. You probably shouldn’t feel as jealous as you do when he ends up on missions with Sharon instead of you, that’s not very fuck-buddy-friendly of you. You also probably shouldn’t hate the few minutes after sex when he’s catching his breath in bed while you’re pulling your clothes on, hoping he won’t be annoyed with how long it takes you to get out of his apartment. Maybe you’re more than fuck buddies. But still, you don’t know what to call it. “I’m not sure.”

“You’re not sure.” Bucky repeats slowly, as if he’s tasting the words. His facial expression remains gentle, but the light in his eyes darkens. “Take off your dress.” He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You push yourself up and sit on the side of the bed before pulling the dress over your head and letting it fall to the floor. You haven’t even had the chance to lay back down when he starts moving to sit right behind you, letting his legs come around either side of you so your back presses against his chest. Ah, you see where he’s going with this. The wall that you’re both now facing has a tall standing mirror, giving you the perfect view of your naked body in front of his in the dim light of his bedroom. “Look at yourself.” Bucky coos, cupping your chin with his flesh hand and tilting your head up the tiniest bit. “So fucking pretty.”

His words have you blushing for some reason. Of all of the times you’ve been naked in his bed, you don’t recall him ever saying sweet things to you just for the sake of saying them. Maybe he thought them, you wouldn’t know, but he sure as hell never said them. It sends a wave of warmth throughout your body, and your already pink-tinged cheeks take on another layer of blush. With almost no effort, Bucky places his hands on your hips and pushes you up to a standing position. He then tucks his legs between yours and then grips his cock in his hand. He gives it a few slow pumps before angling you above it and then guiding you to sit down. Right on his fucking dick. The moan that leaves your lips as your head falls back against his shoulder could’ve come from amateur porn. The penetration feels as if it’s happening in slow motion, as you take one-fourth, then half, then three-fourths, and then…his entire fucking cock inside of you.

“That’s it, baby, all of it.” Bucky begins peppering kisses across your neck and right shoulder, but his eyes are locked on the mirror, staring at where the two of you are connected. “Whose fingers make you cum?” He asks, as his right hand skims down your side, straight to your clit. He uses his middle and ring fingers to start gently massaging your already-sensitive clit. You lift your head to meet his gaze in the mirror.

“Yours.” You answer quietly, slowly beginning to slide up and down his length. You’re only moving an inch at a time, not yet adjusted nor ready to fuck his cock how it deserves to be fucked.

“Good girl.” Why does such simple praise from him make you feel like you’re having a mini orgasm on the spot? Jesus. You start fucking half of his cock now, lifting yourself up and then sitting back down, but not daring to pull off anywhere near the tip. “Whose mouth makes you cum?”

“Yours.” You say again, a little louder this time as the pleasure begins building low in your stomach once more.

“That’s right, you’re doing so good for me, baby.” Bucky picks up the pace with his hand. His work on your clit is making stars flash in your vision and your pussy continuous clench around his cock. “And who do you let cum in this perfect little pussy? Huh? Who does this belong to?” He asks, his eyes once again drifting down in the mirror until they land on where his cock is disappearing inside of you. He groans as you sit fully down on it again.

“You, Bucky.” You moan, now fully adjusted to his thick length. You start bouncing on it, unable to control yourself any longer. Bucky’s having none of that. He quickly slides his flesh hand up your stomach, between your breasts, and wraps it around your neck. He isn’t choking you, he’s merely gaining your full attention with an authoritative move. You freeze, your eyes locking onto his in the mirror as you sit there with his entire length inside of you.

“I’m going to fuck the shit out of you, and then I’m going to cum inside you so fucking deep that you might end up pregnant.” His filthy words give you as much pleasure as any touch, any kiss, any physical thing he could ever do to you. Your pussy tightens around him at the promise that he’s just spoken. “Now tell me, why would you be here right now, letting me do that? What am I to you?”

“Everything.”

Finally, you gave him the right answer.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #mcu #bucky barnes x you #marvel #the winter soldier #winter soldier #bucky barnes smut #smut #mcu smut #marvel smut #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes

[redr0sewrites]

One thing I can't help but feel a Sub!Vox would unexpectedly enjoy is getting reminded/teased about the fact he has a safe word he can use.

Like, beyond just the safe, practical etiquette of double checking and making sure everything's still okay, in the scenario that he absolutely is still okay: You got him so worked up, overstimulated, repeatedly sobbing out "I can't"s, only to have you sweetly cut in with a sweet "Do you need to use the safe word~?" (Or any other possible non-verbal "STOP" sign that got agreed upon), and having that answer be "No."

Him getting faced with the fact that he can so, so, so easily have anything that's happening to him stop, should he so wish it, and yet, despite all his whining and begging and crying, he's actively choosing not to have it stop.

Him just getting so flustered by that paradox of him being reminded that he's in complete control over having no control~

YESSSSSS AUGHGHH I NEED TO PAMPER HIM‼️

🥀Cw: smut, sub!vox, safeword mentioned, overstim, not proofread bc i am both sick and tired im so sorry

🥀minors dni

once vox is in subspace, he really is a mess- drooling, moaning, whimpering, clawing at the sheets, and most obviously, crying

to most people this would give the impression that he wants to stop, but in reality, vox very very rarely uses the safeword but fuuuck it is SUCH a turn on for him that the opportunity is there

we all know he has a power kink, and he's so obviously in a submissive position during sex, but the fact that you're the one allowing him to stop if he needs to? it gets to his head

it also opens the door to his humiliation kink, bc nothing turns him on more than being humiliated. the fact that he could so, so easily quit, just walk out and be out of the embarrassing, submissive position he's in but instead he finds himself wanting to be wrecked- more than wrecked, downright ruined by you when he could so easily walk away. the entire situation is exhilarating and arousing to him

he also adores it when you use it mockingly, if you start cooing "aww, poor baby, do y'need to tap out already? gonna use the safeword sweetie?" he's already babbling, pleading with you to keep going, how he's being suuuuch a good boy! and then? well, he's rambling on and on about how he can't stop yet, how he needs to cum! how could you deny him?

vox takes punishments well, but will brat out the whole time, whimpering and whining about how he can't take it. however, the second you threaten to stop, or offer the safeword? he's putty in your hands, drooling and clawing at the sheets, practically begging you to keep going. its the quickest way to get him to completely submit to you without even another word!

vox isn't used to relinquishing control in general, so the power dynamics proposed by the safeword honestly make him trust you even more. even outside of the bedroom, it flusters him when you ask before touching him or when you ask about sex instead of just initiating.

when it comes to softer sex, vox also likes to be reminded of the safeword! sometimes he's just so stressed out that he just wants to be pampered, but he reaches a point where his mind gets so fuzzy he just can't stop :( he's mewling and whining as you ride him, tears streaming down his screen as you praise him, and he doesn't realize how far gone he is until you gently remind him he can tap out whenever he needs to. vox will nod, eyes watery and face flushed, and soon he becomes more aware of just how sleepy he is. he always makes sure you both cum one more time before tapping out, but i can also see him having a bit of a somnophilia kink, so he would probably consent to letting you fuck him in his sleep, with the promise of the safeword still being valid

i mentioned this before in the dry humping hcs, but sometimes, vox will get so needy and horny that he just can't stop, so the reminder of the safeword is often very useful when he's too far gone to communicate but is like 2 seconds away from passing out. but sometimes he likes to be pushed to the edge too, so he won't always use the safeword but gets off on the fact that the option is there

also tiny additional hc, i think he would like to use a meaningful word for a safeword. maybe something related to technology, like radio or something, or possibly electric. like if he started saying electric, it would mean he wanted to stop. or i think he would use a color system, you would ask him what color and he'd say red green or yellow depending on how into it he is or how he's feeling etc etc. either way he wants it to be meaningful and not just some random word- like he wants a sentimental reasoning behind whatever word you choose (feel free to comment safeword ideas so i can use them in future fics 👹)

vox lets out a wanton moan, glitching and panting as he humps your thigh like a dog in heat. he's writhing under your touch, unsure of where to put his hands when all he can focus on is the pressure against his painfully hard cock. its sinful the way he drags his hips, mewling deliriously as he creams in his pants for what feels like the hundreth time, and yet his pace doesn't falter as he ruts against you. he's a panting mess and barely coherent and he babbles, whimpering your name over and over. "fuc- zzz -k, 'm so- ple-zzz-" vox gasps, thighs shaking as you wrap your arms around his neck. his cock throbs when you make eye contact with him and his thighs squeeze around yours. a stain darkens the front of his pants, leftover from his previous release in his dazed rut. "vox," you coo, rubbing the ports on the back of his screen as he struggles to remain coherent enough to focus on your words. "vox, baby, do you need the safeword?" your voice is sickeningly sweet, laced with concern and lust.

vox paused at the thought, dread seeping into his body as he let out a pathetic whine. "nno, 'm fine," he slurred, rolling his hips against your thigh. "m not even tired," he mewls deliriously, and you nod, taking notice of his drooping eyelids and slowing movements. "okay sweetie, only one more round though, okay?" vox nods, tears streaming down his screen as his claws dig into the plush of your hips. you steady him, and you move your leg, assisting him in grinding against you as you shake your thigh. vox whimpers, static lacing his voice as he glitches out entirely. repeating your name like a prayer, his body tenses as he cums fast and hard, soaking his pants yet again. vox collapses against you, breathing ragged as he struggled to keep his eyelids from drooping. "you okay, baby?" you purr, and he nods, slumping deeper into your touch. "lets get you cleaned up, hm?"

UWRGJREHHEHEHEHE I AM ALWAYS IN THE MOOD FOR SUB VOX!!!!!!!!!! i love the idea of being soft w him sm- i genuinely have not written enough sfw stuff for vox so if anyone has anything fluffy to say ab him PLEASE come into my inbox. ALSO IF ANYONE HAS ANYTHING LUTE RELATED TO SAY ESPECIALLY/INCLUDING SMUT ALSO PLS COME INTO MY INVOX BC RUEGRHRGRHGR THEYRE BOTH MY FAVS RN

#vox x reader #vox x you #vox x y/n #vox x oc #vox smut #vox x reader smut #hazbin hotel vox x reader #sub!vox #sub vox #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x oc #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel headcanon #sub hazbin hotel #sub vox smut #hazbin vox #dom reader #dom!reader #sub vox x reader #sub character

[lincolndjarin]

my way.

pairing : oberyn martell x f!reader

summary : being the prince of dorne can often be a rather stressful job, it's hard to give, and give, and give. sometimes you just need to be on the receiving end for a little while.

warnings, tags, etc : five seconds of plot to build up to a whole lot of porn, pegging (obvi), medieval strap on, glass toys, fingering, oberyn sucks the strap, allusions to other partners, referring to a dildo as a cock, multiple orgasms, overstimulation if you squint, premature ejaculation?? idk he cums fast bc i'm a sucker for that, cum play, reader has brief penis envy idk if that's the term but yeah, spit as lube bc its the olden days or whatever, anal sex, soft & loving sex, sort of a gentle dom vibe from reader, they're married <3 <3 <3, aftercare, i didn't really edit this as much as i should have (i'm sleepy) so apologies in advance

a/n : hello lovelies !!!! i am back from my little break with a little middle aged man pegging!! check out @wannab-urs who put together this entire project for a full masterlist of everyones works soon <3 apologies if i'm a little rusty i'm still getting back into my writing groove :3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Everything always has to be his way. 

If you didn’t love him so much it would probably irritate you more. And when it does bother you he always does his best to fix it but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating. Your sweet prince has always done right by you but he’s never done it your way, and when things don’t go exactly as he wants them to he becomes a real pain. 

You know it isn’t entirely his fault of course. The combination of never being told no and having to make decisions that affect the people of Dorne in real time, often leaves him stressed beyond comprehension. 

Today it seems to be particularly bad as he paces around your shared chambers. You had spent your day reading and baking bread, everything had been perfectly fine until he burst through the door, rambling about a funding dispute he’s been having with his brother for weeks now. You can tell by the glint in his eye that things clearly aren’t going his way, before you get a chance to comfort him he snaps at you. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” It’s a small critique, you have been staring at him waiting for this sort of thing, so you take control of the situation rather quickly. 

“Let me give you a chance to apologize before this becomes a fight.” You cross your arms in front of your chest. He immediately picks up on the annoyance in your voice as his features soften from anger to shame. 

“I’m sorry.” He really means it as he bows his head a bit. “It’s just- It’s been a difficult day.” He makes his way over to you, taking one of your hands, kissing your knuckles. “I’m sorry, my stars.”

“I know, my moon, it’s okay.” You move the hand he holds to his lips, cradling his face briefly as he smiles, to your dismay it doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s still tense. 

“I think I’d go mad if I didn’t get to come home to you each day.” You don’t doubt that. 

“Why don’t you let me help you out a little?” You wrap your arms around him, letting your fingers tangle in the hair at the base of his neck. “Let me take care of you.” You barely speak above a whisper now as his body starts to relax in response to your touch. He walks you towards the bed until the backs of your knees hit the mattress, just as expected he immediately takes control of the situation, barely letting you get another word in as his hands slide down your waist like they’ve done countless times before except this time you catch his wrists before he can get that far. “Can you lay down for me?” The moment you ask the question he raises an eyebrow before complying, moving to sit with his back against the headboard as you go to your nightstand. 

You’ve used the toy a few times before with your other partners but as far as you know Oberyn’s never even seen it. You haven’t made any effort to hide it from him but he’s always so quick to act when it’s just the two of you, he never gives you much of a chance to do anything but take what he gives. No wonder he’s so stressed, he’s never taken a moment to just receive. 

The moment you crawl up the bed to him he’s already back on you. All teeth and hands as he pulls you against him, you have to force yourself to pull away from him though it pains you greatly. 

“Not yet- I want to try something new.” You don’t give him a chance to question as you reach across him to your nightstand. You just had a new toy made, hand blown glass, for this sort of occasion, as you toss it down next to him his eyes squint in confusion before going wide. 

“Where did you get that, my love?” His words drawl a bit, his Dornish accent hangs heavy in the air as you lift your dress over your head, tossing it aside, sitting before him completely bare as you slip into the leather straps, cinching the buckles carefully before taking the toy and holding it in one hand languidly. 

“A glass smith nearby has been more than willing to experiment with his craft for me. Is this something you’re interested in trying?” You can already tell what his answer is going to be based on his expression but you still want to hear him say it. 

“Of course, I’d try anything for you.” He purrs softly as you push him back into the pillows. You lay him back, an action he’s done to you countless times before, tugging at the cords of his robe. Between the two of you, eager to get him undressed, it only takes a moment before the fabric hits the floor. Once he’s as bare as you are you’re able to see just how much the idea thrills him as his red tipped cock slaps against his stomach. 

“Do you think you can relinquish control for just a little while, my prince?” You rake your nails against his chest lightly as he nods. “Good. I don’t want you to worry about a thing, put all your focus on taking what I give you, do you understand?” You stop your hands movement downwards right as you reach the patch of hair on his lower stomach. 

“Absolutely.” He flashes you a toothy grin and you can’t help but respond with one of your own. 

“You will do as I say then. And if I ask something of you that you do not like then you will say stop, is that clear?” You want so badly to take his cock into your hands or mouth but you’re trying to be patient as you pull your hand back. This is for his sake, not yours. 

“Perfectly clear.” His hips twitch upwards a bit, almost taunting your resolve as you press him back down into the mattress. 

“Lovely,” You hum, stroking the glass toy between your fingers before bringing it to his mouth, tapping his lips. “Open.” He complies quickly, parting his lips as you slide the tip of the toy in, reveling in his moans. He looks so… right, like this. Eyes wide and eager as his tongue laps at the cool glass, tracing the ridges, legs spread, and cock twitching in excitement. You can’t help but wonder why you didn’t do this sooner. 

You push the fake cock just a little further past his lips before letting him take hold of it, turning to other matters. 

“Warm that up please, you wouldn’t want it to be cold when I fill you up.” As you murmur those words he groans against the glass. 

Unceremoniously you spit into your hand, giddy with excitement as you nudge his legs a bit further apart. You spread the plush flesh of his ass to notch your digits at his hole, gently pushing just the tip of your pointer finger in, feeling him tighten around you with a gasp. 

“Relax, my love.” You coo, waiting until his muscles release a bit before pushing onward. This isn’t your first time doing this sort of thing of course but it is the first time he’s going to be taking something other than your fingers or tongue, so you work him open slowly. Watching the stress unravel from his body as you work in a second finger, curling and scissoring them as his back arches, cock bobbing against his stomach as his fingers grip the sheets around him. 

When he’s able to take three of your fingers you pull the toy from his mouth with a soft pop, the toy slick with spit and properly warmed easily slips into the designated slot on your harness. He watches with a palpable anticipation as you get yourself situated. When you’re ready you’re kneeling between his legs, glass cock standing proudly against your pelvis. 

“Ready?” You ask as you gently lift his legs, bringing his knees to his chest as he nods, damn near whimpering. 

You push into him, slowly, as you gauge his reaction. Usually he’s all grunts and grumbles during sex but now he’s gasps and whines. His hands clutch the pillows surrounding his head as he tries to push himself further onto the toy but the position you’ve got him in keeps him in place. 

“You want more?” There’s a mocking lilt to your voice as he nods rapidly.

“Yes- please.” He purses his lips as he whimpers and you’re more than happy to oblige, watching the sight before you as his hole swallows your cock, his own dick leaking against his stomach, begging for a release. You adjust your hips a bit, watching his back attempt to arch as you do so. “Th-there.” His voice is strained as you hit that sweet spot inside of him. Ever so gently you pull out before rocking yourself back against it. 

“There? Is that what you want?” You continue to speak in a teasing tone but you truly want to know, this is all for his sake, you want so badly to make him feel good. His cheeks are flushed, warm skin slick with sweat as he continues to nod. You repeat the motion a few more times, caught off guard when he lets out a low whine and you watch as his cock pulses, untouched, as he paints his torso. His breath catches in his throat as he does so. “Oh my, look at the mess you’ve made, and so quickly.” You drag a finger over his heaving chest, scooping up some of his spend to taste, letting the bitter sweetness coat your tongue. “You were more pent up than I thought, my love. I think you still have some stress that needs releasing.” 

“I-I’m sorry.” He stammers, looking a bit embarrassed but you immediately shake your head, leaning forward to kiss his forehead while simultaneously sinking back into him.

“Don’t apologize for feeling good, sunshine. That’s what this is all for.” You bump your nose against his, hoping to reassure him. “Do you think you could give me one more, I just want to make sure I get all the stress out.” You emphasize your words with a small push of his legs tighter against his chest, earning a soft mewl from him. 

“I can do one more.” 

“Wonderful.” You kiss his cheek before picking up the same pace you were at just moments ago. Happily watching his cock jump back to life. You take the opportunity to drag your fingers through the cum cooling on his abdomen, drawing little shapes as he begins to reach that same peak rapidly all over again. You adore the sight of your glass cock sliding in and out of him. He takes you so well, his hole fluttering as he lets you fuck him. You wish you had a real cock just so you could feel him tighten around you but this will have to do. His neglected dick continues to rest against his happy trail, desperate to be touched. This time you help him out, wrapping your hand around his cock, with a few quick pumps he’s coating his stomach in cum all over again.

It’s positively euphoric to see the prince of Dorne like this. 

Just for you. Spread before you without a care in the world, stuffed full of your cock and happy as can be.

You give him a moment to catch his breath before pulling out, peppering his cheeks with kisses before slipping out of the harness and leaving to get him some water as well as something to wipe him up with. 

You gently wipe him down with a warm washcloth, cleaning him while continuing to kiss his face as he yawns. 

“Thank you.” He mumbles, taking your face in his hands, pulling you forward for another kiss. 

“Anytime, we take care of each other, I’m just glad you’re feeling better.” You climb under the blankets with him, tangling your limbs with his as he rests his face in the crook of your neck, clearly exhausted as he falls asleep against you. You feel your own exhaustion hit, smiling to yourself as you close your eyes. You couldn’t be happier that he let you try things your way.

#PMAMC2024 #pmamc 2024 #lincolndjarin #one shot #oberyn martell #prince oberyn #oberyn x reader #oberyn / reader #oberyn martell x reader #pedro pascal fic #oberyn martell fic

[strawberriianime]

That's All You Got?

♡ ryomen sukuna x reader , yuji itadori x reader

♡ you spend a passionate time with your boyfriend but sukuna decides to tag in~

♡ cw: 18+ content, descriptions of sex, dirty talk (sukuna), vanilla sex (yuji), sukuna switches with yuji, fingering, nipple play, breeding kink if you squint, unprotected sex, creampies, sexxxxxx.

Everything about Yuji was perfect, he treated you well and pretty much worshiped the ground you walked on. You both had been dating long enough and decided to make your relationship more intimate. However that took some convincing as he was worried about Sukuna, but that was the least of your worries. "You sure you're not uncomfortable? He can see this..." he stressed removing the white tee he had been wearing. "How many times do I have to tell you that I am literally okay. Plus, it's not the first time we've done this now relax" You placed your lips onto his allowing him to taste the watermelon lip balm you had been wearing earlier. He was quick to pull you closer to him, his cool hands running up your thin tank fondling the clasp of your bra. Discarding the thin fabric, and your blue lace bra he took his index finger and thumb rolling your soft buds between his fingers. You let out a slight whimper, as he latched onto your nipple swirling his tongue around and sucking carefully. He released your nipple with a slight pop as he pushed you back onto the bed laying you carefully on your back. He brought his face back to yours, placing a soft kiss on your lips as he rolled down your panties allowing your bare cunt to feel the cool breeze in the room. Kissing you passionately, you felt one of his fingers run along your slit collecting the juices that had formed using it to tease at your clit. He pushed two fingers inside allowing you to adjust before he started moving. He cycled his fingers inside prepping you just enough to let him slide in. You let out a moan as he pushed your legs apart granting him access to align himself to your entrance. "You ready baby?" he asked as you nodded in response. You arched your back as you felt him slide in, stretching you almost beyond your limits. "Fuck baby you feel so good" he groaned biting his lip and trying his hardest to not cum just yet. Gripping the back of the bed, he began pumping in and out and a steady pace throwing his head back in the process. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer to you and allowing him to drill even deeper into you. "F-Fuck" he moaned out fastening his pace causing you to grip the white bed sheets you laid on. "Keep going I'm close" you moaned out scratching along his back and chasing your own high. With a stutter of his hips, he quickly pulled out just as you were washed with your own orgasm, light ropes of his cum painting your stomach. As you were catching your breath, you heard a voice "Don't think you're done just yet." Sukuna's voice rang throughout the bedroom realigning himself at your overstimulated entrances bypassing your puffy folds.

Before you could protest, you felt the familiar feeling of your cunt being stretched. He threw your tired legs over his shoulder allowing him to reach a new deepness that Yuji has never explored. His thrust was sharp, but they were rough as well each snap of his hips causing his dick to jab harshly at your cervix. "That brat doesn't know how to fuck a woman properly. I know deep down you want to be fucked like the dirty slut you are" His teasing words caused you to clench down onto him as he smirked down at you. "I can barely move your pussy's almost too tight but you like that huh. You like hearing me call you a dirty slut it gets you wet huh." As much as you'd like to disagree, he was right sex with Yuji was soft and vanilla, and sex with Sukuna was thrilling. You were pulled out of your thoughts when you felt him slide out of you leaving you confused for the moment. "Flip" was all he said, and you did just that. Positioned on your hands and knees, you felt him push down on your back making you arch your back deeply. You felt him place his hands on your hips, stiff dick poking at your entrance one more using your juices to slide right in. You moaned loudly, shoving your face into the pillow and he began fucking into you at an inhumane pace. The room was filled with your nonstop moans and the squelching sound of your wetness meeting his thrust. "Fuck, you're wet as hell no wonder why he can barely last. Tch and after all that you're still tight as ever. Pussy this good is rare to find" He took his left hand and placed it on your back holding you in place. You could barely hold on much longer, as you began pulsating around his dick, "About to cum already, ha gotta train you how to take dick properly." he angeled his hips pumping into you at a newly found pace. "I'm going to cum deep inside this pussy. You'd like that huh, want to be filled up with my cum. A pussy this slutty deserves to be filled with cum nonstop. You could be my personal cumdump" he smirked feeling you clench around him even tighter. "A-aH I'm about to...about to cu-" With one final thrust you felt warm liquid filling your insides and you felt your own juices run from his dick, down your leg. "Look at that I made you squirt." he chuckled watching as your trembling legs were soaked coating the bedsheets as well. "Next time you want dick this good, just call my name." You watched as he switched back with Yuji who was out like a light.

#ryomen sukuna #sukuna #sukuna ryoumen x you #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #anime smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #sukuna smut #yuji x reader #yuji itadori #itadori x reader #itadori smut #jjk itadori #jujutsu itadori #ayeteen plus

[wol-fica]

-𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕-

summary - r gets a tad stressed over simple things, but jenna is an angel from above <3

warnings - medication for anxiety

an - i hope everyone likes the new theme change :D

——————

Stressed.

Stressed was a word that you liked to use to describe yourself on a daily basis, which is an unhealthy habit of yours, but you just can’t shake it. You were always an extremely tense person, whether it be doing casual things around the house, or being on stage performing in front of hundreds of people; you were just stressed. 

Now, as much as you do get overwhelmed and overstimulated at times, you fortunately have a wonderful girlfriend whose patience is beyond this world. She has the ability to calm your nerves and help you relax even in the most challenging situations, and you thank her for that. But she isn’t perfect, not that you expect her to be, and there are some days when you just can’t be still. 

Like as of right now; you’d woken up a tad bit late today, which set you off in a panic because you had many many things to do, being it was your sister's birthday. You had leapt out of bed so quickly and were out of the house in less than 10 minutes so you could catch an uber to the grocery store to buy ingredients for your infamous chocolate cake. By the time you got back, it was already 5 hours before you needed to leave for the upcoming party, and absolutely nothing was done. 

“Okay sugar, powdered sugar, brown sugar, flour, vanilla extract, eggs, milk…” You were rambling off to the open air as you hurriedly threw things out onto the counter in a rush. 

You yanked a mixing bowl out of your cupboard and got to work combining the ingredients for the cake, forgetting to set the oven temperature on the way which made you start to bite your lip as a stimulant. Once the cake batter was ready, you messily oiled the pans, poured the batter in, and threw them in the oven. Now your focus was on the icing, you needed powdered sugar, cocoa powder, vanilla extract, and…

“Dammit! I forgot the butter!” You yelled, slapping your hand to your forehead in frustration. 

How could you be so dumb at a time like this? You literally went to the store, late, and bought everything except butter. What kind of idiot forgets butter? How could you be so stupid as to forget such a simple ingredient like…

“Shhhh…” 

Your rambling mouth stopped, making you aware that you were talking out loud and that Jenna was awake. Her arms were around your waist and her face was buried into the back of your neck as she swayed you side to side in a comforting manner. Her hands gently rubbed your stomach as she felt your muscles ever so slowly relax.

“You need to calm down, love.” She mumbled, pressing a loving kiss to the skin of your neck.

“I am calm, just rushed.” You said, internally cursing your voice for being shaky. 

“Mhm, and I’m a blue-eyed blonde.” She hummed, squeezing you lightly. 

You rolled your eyes at her remarke, but felt yourself melt into her touch. Her hold on you tightened when you turned in her arms so you could face her, her nose scrunching as she smiled. 

“Come sit and watch some TV with me?” Jenna asked sweetly, rubbing your hips with her thumbs. 

It was more of a suggestion than a question.

“But the icing…” You trailed off in defeat. 

“Has three hours to be made. TV, please?” She looked at you with her best puppy dog eyes that she could muster, and you caved in, slumping your head onto her shoulder weakly. 

“That’s my girl..” Jenna cooed, holding you as close as she could as she walked you to the living room. 

She laid down on the couch first, pulling you on top of her so she could massage your incredibly stiff back. Her hands found their way under your shirt, and started gently pressing and rubbing in circles to try and relieve some of the stress you have accumulated. Her fingers found a particularly tender spot and pressed down, making you groan in approval and sink down into her; Jenna always knew how to help you destress. 

“You didn’t take your medication today did you?” She asked after a while, pulling a lock of hair out of your face. 

“No..” You grumbled, lips forming into a pout.

“Don’t do that, it’s pointless.” Jenna said, kissing your downtrodden look away as she sat up with you, “I’ll get it.” 

She slid you off of her, pecking your forehead quickly before hurrying into the kitchen for your anxiety medication you (attempt to) take daily. After grabbing the pills and a glass of water, she made her way over to you as you sat down at the island.

“Take these and drink the water, it should help.” She coaxed, holding the glass for you as you drank whilst rubbing your back slowly. 

Once you finished, Jenna whisked the glass away to the sink and began to clean up the mess you had made from baking. She moved with grace, clearing the counters of your mess before she came back over to you.

“All done.” She said cheerfully.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it.” You mumbled, feeling drowsy from the meds, which didn’t go unnoticed by Jenna.

“Do you wanna go take a nap?” She asked, brushing a lock of hair out of your face. 

You shook your head stubbornly, closing your eyes as Jenna caressed your cheek in a loving manner; a yawn slipped out.

“You need sleep.” She whispered, tucking herself to your side.

“I know, but I have stuff to do…” You muttered, opening your eyes to look up at her.

God, was she gorgeous. You could never get tired of how graciously beautiful she was; she seemed to always glow and radiate everywhere she went.

Her lips were an addictive drug that sent you to no-man’s land, and you wouldn’t even care if died, because in your eyes, she had the power of god.

The patience she exuded for you was a blessing, and every time she stopped to help you relax you knew you were in wonderfully trained hands.

“Okay fine, i’ll take a nap for you.” You caved in, causing her to smile happily.

“Good, because if you didn’t, I was going to beat you to sleep.” Jenna hummed, pulling you up and towards your bedroom.

“I’d like that.”

She turned around and gave you a look, a smirk gracing her incredibly plump lips.

“Dumbass.” She mumbled as she grabbed a pillow to throw at you.

“Your dumbass.” You laughed, catching the pillow.

“My dumbass.”

——————

taglist: @tundra1029 @i984 @king-scarlet @loekalanaria @dreifhraniquo29 @alexomnice @fall-08 @efectoangel @simp4thena

i do not give anyone permission to repost on any platform

#jenna #ortega #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x r

[eclectic-sassycoweyes]

WIP Wednesday

Thankuuu for the tag @carlos-in-glasses !! 💗 (Please know how sorry I am that I haven’t been showing the love for Where All This Love Comes From that it deserves yet, my life and mind have been busy and stressed lately so I’ve been somewhat of a passive scroller, but I promise you that I was jumping up and down internally when I saw it had gotten posted, and I shall return to it and pour my adoration out over it as soon as I’m able!)

I do happen to have something to share today, so here is a snippet of an emotional monologue that came to be completely out of my control, from TK trying to reassure Carlos that he is a good man, and is lovable and forgivable for his actions in 4.18

“Carlos, when I met you, one of the things I admired about you was that you were the kind of cop who didn’t believe that anyone was inherently bad, or beyond reprieve. You were - are - the kind who sees the nuances, sees the people behind their actions even if it complicates things. And who knows that even normal, good people can end up in bad situations, can be drawn to desperate measures if they’re pushed hard enough.” He chuckles slightly on the next word, the memory a cherished one. “Baby, you looked at me, sitting across from you in a police station when you barely even knew me, with cuffs around my wrists and a busted lip from a bar fight that I was the one to initiate while I told you about my history with illegal substance abuse, and your first impulse was to apologise for serving champagne that night I ran out on you like a crazy person, and hurt you doing it. Nothing in the way that you looked at me changed. You still looked at me and saw me, saw someone you wanted to help, someone you wanted to get to know on a deeper level, someone you wanted to love. You - just like that, you decided to love me; and not even in spite of, but because of who I was.” TK licks his lips before continuing, tasting salt from the tears he hadn’t noticed had started to fall.

“And even with all the things I’ve told you about my past since then, about the things I’ve done while I was high out of my mind and the things I did to get high or even to conceal how bad it had really gotten, you just kept loving me and believing in me and seeing me. And baby,” TK lifts Carlos’ chin so they’re face to face, rubbing his thumb just to the side and underneath his lower lip, seeing it catch on his thumb and drag slightly with the movement. It’s feels like forever since every place on their bodies became little spots in the world that were among the most familiar to the other’s touch, since every point on their bodies became one suited for providing and receiving physical comfort from the other. “Baby” he repeats, “I could never do anything short of doing you the same courtesy.”

Tags under the cut!

I again have no idea who’s done it and who’s not, so I’ll tag every one of my mutuals, also just for taking the chance to say thank you again (to those I have talked with) and just thank you (to those I haven’t yet) for making this fandom such a nice place and welcoming me into it ! I’m starting to feel more and more a part of it, and that’s really awesome, cause I really like it here! 😌 😊 🙃

And if I have any followers that I’m for some reason not mutuals with, consider this the openest of open tags if you wanna participate!!!!!!!!!!

@heartstringsduet @craftytragedysalad @paperstorm @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @thisbuildinghasfeelings @never-blooms @catanisspicy @lightningboltreader @lemonlyman-dotcom @welcometololaland

#wip wednesday #tarlos fic #tarlos #tarlos fanfiction #my snippets #my fics #my wip’s

[cryogenically-frozen]

I've started reading Jealousy by @chinateacup recently. I should have done it sooner. It goes without saying as an Ishimondo fan I love it. It's holding my attention and reading doesn't usually do that so that speaks to the quality of it.

SPOILERS and implied SPOILERS beyond this point, both for the Danganronpa fanfic Jealousy and the musical Bloody Elle.

I have made this post because the whole thing reminds me of a musical called Bloody Elle. It's about a woman getting a crush on the new girl at her workplace and slowly realising that she is gay. It's available on Bandcamp but I can put songs here so I will because, if you like Jealousy, I may be able to provide you with some new songs for your favourite blorbo:

1)Stop the World:

This reminds me of Taka realising he's got a crush on Mondo. It has the lines "I don't know what I've been feeling but it hasn't gone away" and "what the f**k is happening?" to give you an idea of what the general idea of the song is. Makes me think of early Jealousy Taka as he's having realisations.

2)What Am I Feeling?

This one reminds me of Mondo's reaction to Taka and Aoi being touchy feely at the carnival and finding out they kissed. The entire thing takes place while the singing character (Elle) is stress smoking, and Mondo does smoke in Jealousy. The song has the lyric "When he grabbed her hand, I couldn't understand... And then he kissed her... F**king Hell." And "My heart just spat out my chest and I realize I'm shaking I'm a right f**king mess, don't know what to do with my hands." It's very Mondo but also slightly Taka, just to a lesser extent, mostly the urgency and quick rhythm and, as a fellow sensory buddy, this feels like when I'm overstimulated.

I don't know if Mondo realizes he's crushing on Taka don't spoil it please I'm only on chapter 5.

3) You and Me

Literally either of them. They are enamoured. They are in love. The song is great and cute. If your a fan of Mondo using slang there's some at the end. Basically they entire musical features it. Granted, it's British slang but it counts. "I think you're mint, I'd put your name in gold print, I'd buy you a car if I wasn't skint."

That's all I've associated with Jealousy for now. I may find more as I keep reading but if you want to listen to the whole album you can. It's all very ishimondo, it's just these are like direct parallels I've noticed. Just trying to my bit for my fellow Ishimondo lovers.

#kiyotaka ishimaru #mondo owada #ishimondo #bloody elle musical #this is honestly such a good fic #hopefully it has a happier ending than bloody elle #Bandcamp

[makima-s-most-smile]

Trigun Maximum 6.2

Okay, okay... I shall take a tumblr-break until I finally catch up to the bookclub and finish the other two pieces for it. Mmmmmaybe... We'll see how strong my determination is

04: Death Omen

*looks at the frontpage, sees Knives* I mean, the title of the chapter is not untrue.

Auditory overstimulation… I feel you, Knives. (Never thought I would write that) But it gives you the feeling that Knives is so close to lashing out. When was the last time he was in such a mass of people? July? And current Knives is so much more unhinged than July-Knives, and even that dude was already off the handle.

Conrad, Conny. YOU have no right to be that stressed out. Knives being alive is YOUR fault. You gave him a new body. Hell, you are the reason that Vash unleashed the angel arm in the first place. 

Elendira… just there for the slaughter. Girl, I wanna dissect you. (affectionately)

Comparing to the other towns we have seen, this one looks really big! *looks how the chapter progresses* Oh… Oh NO! NIGHTOW!

Me, when I get to talk to someone about Trigun. I am the opposite of hinged.

And explanation why Vash was especially wanted for the murder of Vasquez. As a plant engineer he was pretty important for the continuation of the human race. At least this Conrad does not seem like… well… *stares at Stampede* *stares harder* Someday I'll make an OC that is German and kicks him in the nuts and asks him if he didn't learn anything from the past... Someday... *whispers*

*looks back to Trigun Ultimate 1* Yeah, 50 plants still seems a bit steep, but not that steep anymore. Also, ewewewewewew, that looks like they produce big pieces of chicken breast. Just imagine a fucking raw chicken breast plopping out of this cloaca-like apparatus

Does Knives reach out to hurt plants like Vash does? He seems to be in the city for his dying sister. That shows at least some kind of care for his kind, more than he has spared to Vash. Then again, Vash has the ability to say no. Knives cares for his sisters. I overread it in my first readthrough. They don’t have a voice and they don’t have a choice, but he cares for their physical wellbeing. That is more than I assumed. 

Well, at least Knives is okay with Conrad experimenting on him. Yay for Conrad having consent from ONE of the twins he experimented on? Weeee?

What is the timeline here? When did Conrad join Knives? He still looks like in his 30-40s. So he has to be 190 years old now? How? Knives got to Conrad before July and after parting from Vash. Why does Conrad realise that Knives is beyond sanity just now? Knives was a big player for the July-catastrophe. Conrad was there. If Conrad didn’t… make a new body for Knives, Knives would be gone. All of what happened since Jeneora Rock is partly Conrad’s fault and it starts to dawn on him just NOW?!

Whatever happened, the researcher holds the plants in high regard. He is grateful for her service. And he is right with pointing out that humanity’s situation forces them to exploit the plants. But they are also just delaying the inevitable. Less plants means more stress on the living plants, which leads to more plants dying. The only resource for anything is plants. Humanity is on their last legs. Then again, could the plants even survive without the humans? It is a symbiosis that has lost its balance.

How has Knives never heard of last runs before? Like, dude, you feel when your sister is in bad shape. WTF?!

Does Conrad know that Knives caused the Great Fall? Knives is one of the main reasons WHY his sisters are exploited. He is one of the main reasons that humanity lost so much knowledge and technology that they do not know how to care for his sisters. There is nothing to forgive. Knives has to eat the bitter consequences of his actions. Not that he is able to.

YOU COULD HAVE JUST NOT GIVEN HIM A NEW BODY?! With that in mind, this whole betrayal just falls so flat for me. 

But like Rem, Conrad is dealing with regrets. That’s why he wants Knives to have a normal life. That’s why he offers to stay with him, in a way sacrificing himself to Knives. This Conrad here is a much softer man than the Stampede Conrad ever was. This does not absolve him from anything. But this man at least tries to take some responsibility for his actions and how they affect others. Something, something, repentance/atonement. Well, except for Vash. Conrad says “Fuck Vash”

Knives cares about Vash. It is twisted love. He doesn’t care for Vash as a person, but there is some care in him. He doesn’t want his brother to die. He wants his brother to shut up and run after him like a mindless drone, praising Knives and thus erasing his insecurities.

Yeah, not gonna lie, this chapter really was death omen like...

05: Colourless Expression

And the frontpage shows Vash smiling. Man…

Milly is so good with kids! So cute!

But the content is also important. Too much colours causes everything to become grey, too many things happening, cause even the strongest person to break.

I love the page. Vash does his best to keep up his facade, but he is starting to crack. His companions start to realise this. They see his depression.

I kinda wanted Wolfwood to preach in the church. Gimme more priestwood. q-q For having faith, hope and guilt such an important part of his character, we do not get much of it.

Going to church to receive some kind of forgiveness. But christianity is more about guilt and sin than true forgiveness, at least how it is preached. The only person who can forgive Vash is Vash himself. But he has been a martyr his whole life, he will never forgive himself. Loss, guilt and punishment makes him. The scars on his body are there for that very reason. Vash even tries to atone for things he didn’t cause, like losing Rem. And now one important detail was ripped from him, the detail that made him different from Knives. Having killed in anger, be it by pointing the gun towards Knives while losing control or actively shooting Knives and losing the whole of July as consequence.

And the next page counters Vash’ true face with the face on the wanted poster, the face he uses for people around him. That’s harsh.

Is that Ozzy Osbourne?!

And ruined meal Nr.4. Let WooWoo eat in peace! Though, his annoyed faces bring me life. I giggled like a little girl at this. This is one of my favourite scenes. Let this guy have some peace, please. (I will come to regret this sentence.)

Thank you! I am terrified. This is sinister.

Alcohol! 

Vash is pretty dependent on alcohol and this scene drives it home. Vash is seen sleeping drunkenly more than once. We see him eat alone with a full bottle of high percentage alcohol next to him. Heck I went through the volumes, even in the first chapter at his introduction he ate with a full bottle of high percentage alcohol next to him. And there are more than a few panels of those meals. There is one scene in the first town, where Vash fakes being drunk. So it is open to interpretation if he reaches his breaking point in this volume and his coping habit becomes dangerous or if he has been dependent on alcohol before remembering July. But Vash can become drunk and he has not the ability to sober up by plant biology. He becomes sloppy. If not his senses/reaction time, then at least his control over his plant powers. Like we see soon.

Wolfwood… We don’t see him drink as much as Vash. Or *I just went through the volumes* We don’t see him drink over excess at all. *stares at ‘98 Wolfwood* You are the reason why I think he drinks overly excessive, too! There is one scene where he has a beer can at his side when eating. Then the second nightmare scene, where he did not even open the bottle, though the shot glass was filled. And he does not open it even after leaving the pub. Begs the question, why? Does he use alcohol purely to socialise with others? Or is he too aware of him having less control over his body/himself when he is drunk and is scared of losing that control?

Everything becomes grey. Vash is unable to see anything good right now. He only sees his pain and how nothing makes it better. The old granny has no reason to forgive him. But he doesn’t need her forgiveness either. But Vash is not there, he may never be there.

But Vash, honey, you look like this to others, because you constantly mask like this. Even your friends aren't wiser than the common folk. If you bottle everything up and swallow everything, no one knows what you really look like, no one will see your pain or help you address it. Meryl wants to help you, but you blocked her off, as you did with Wolfwood and surely did with Milly. This is a hell of your own making (not considering the random people but Vash' personal relationships)

And then the loudspeakers bring all back down to Knives. Knives is the reason for Vash’ pain. And Vash is less and less able to avoid him. He has to confront him soon. But all is grey.

I don’t get that scene. That can’t be Vash that shoots. Is it Wolfwood? Is that why he is angry? Because he has to jump in for Vash again?

And there it is. Maximum grey, Vash at a lowpoint. (Don’t worry, that’s not the lowest :3) Sloppy due to being drunk and being unable to control his power. Though it saves his life.

As much as Vash is latently suicidal, I do not think he only shudders because of the uncontrolled outburst of power.

He is also scared of himself. Meryl, too. Not only Vash reaches his low point, Meryl reaches her breaking point, too. And I can totally feel with her. Wolfwood tried to talk to her, but it was about saving her hide not about what she lived through. Milly is there for her, but I did not see them talking or reflect upon what happened. And Vash? As if. Meryl is alone with her pain like Vash. She is rightfully afraid and now her body forces her to start and take her own mental health seriously. And rightfully so, til this point she was about Vash and his pain. But her pain is right there and rightfully so!

That’s how group mentality works. No one is interested in the truth. No one cares about Vash. He is just othered.

Just ouch. At least Wolfwood tries to comfort Vash? In his very... Wolfwood-way?

06: Seeds voyaging to the stars, a world inside a pot

Oh, it is flashback time. I hope we get something to smile about.

Yeah, Elendira is right. Now Knives is a rat in a corner. Those are dangerous.

Just, damn, girl. Elendira is the kind of nihilist that is like: The world burns and I make smores. She has no real care for others, she is not affected by the end of humanity, this is a game for her to watch. If humanity survives or not, she doesn't care, she just wants it to be interesting.

I didn’t get that it was such a clean cut that it reflects like a mirror the first time reading this.

There are so many bulbs of plants left, just sitting there. Considering their importance, why is no one recovering them? Eh, most likely Vash and Wolfwood were there too quickly for the scavengers to have made their presence known.

Former street kid Wolfwood knows grifters and has no patience for their money grabbing nonsense.

Does Vash realise that the echo represents Conrad? Or is it just a random dude that his brother angrily kills in front of him? But Vash immediately connects their sisters death to Tesla.

Is that Rem talking or one of the twins? But anyway. “Mood”, says the formerly autistic child that learned facial expression due to Sailor Moon.

I… dunno. Vash is so very aware that he is not Rem’s kid, that he is different. He is distanced even from Rem. This is not a mother-child relationship at all. More like weird roommates that you try to teach being responsible people at the same time. 

Vash is thankful for Rem’s care, but his thanks reads so much like he assumes she will reject them every second, like he is that different. (So accidentally autism coded.)

Rem did so much in that year. She was truly thrown into a situation that no one could prepare her for and the twins… She was not ready for this.

Vash is so aware of their differences to humans. He is so distanced from everyone. And here is Knives, cute, naive and hopeful. Makes me sad

And that’s why you need parental advisory. No kid should watch these kind of things! The little fears and doubts Knives has get just blown out of prorpotion like this. He is left alone, thinking, and that never ends well with someone anxious.

Oh, hindsight is 20/20. Knives looks sus, but only if you know.

#trigun bookclub #trigunbookclub #Trimax 6.2 #why is it so hard to write these for my soupy brain #brainpower please!

[silversiren1101]

Ooooh these are such good questions lmao. 🌾 and 💫 for Mino?

🌾 Describe your OC through the eyes of someone absolutely head-over-heels in love with them

"I wondered if there would be a moment where I would open my eyes and realize that I had made a mistake. That was what she feared, at least, so afraid of letting herself have what she'd always wanted now that I was ready to give it--wanting to give it. It hasn't come, and I am certain it never will, because with each day I'm reminded that words like "beautiful" are not a useless as I had believed. They can mean something beyond hollow excuses and justifications; more than just empty subjectivity where plainer words would suffice. When each day starts with dawn-light catching on hair like spun platinum and on scales like gemstones, now more to me than just useless materials, that word is all I can think even as I struggle to breathe. She wakes and beams at me with eyes like amethysts and a smile brighter than the sun, not pointless hyperbole but truth, filling those old, useless words with meaning reserved only for her. There is merit in softness as she briefly holds me tighter before rising, a wrongness in cold air as we part and rise. Song is no longer a sign of idleness, but of rightness, as she hums while brushing her feathers and that hair, or as we walk and I feel that tail eagerly at my heels. When she laughs, I understand the spirit of what music does to the souls of others, and of the appeal of those good goddesses in Elysium. Her gentleness is not a weakness. Her mercy isn't a fault. There is a strength in the justice issued by one so reluctant to give it, more so than in the hand eager for it, which she holds in hers regardless. I see these white fingers against her own and I'm reminded that there is honor in fighting for even just this color I have let fade, if only to keep her smile from fading and that hum from quieting.

Gentleness, softness, beauty, mercy. Trite drivel before, nothing more than empty words and hollow excuses. Only she could be the only one to give them such meaning, now."

[^That took me a long time because he's painfully demi and I really needed to stress that he literally blinked and went from just seeing her as is to thinking she was the only beautiful being in all of existence]

💫What is your favourite fact about this character and why?

Ganzi have variable energy resistance as a mechanic and so Mino's scales react to external temperatures! When she gets overheated they go cold to try and cool her down and when she gets cold they get very warm to the touch! Snuggling with her is either hell or amazing depending on your own temperature preferences.

I love this fact because oh such much trope versatility! Sick and running a fever? Scales are ice cold. Someone is hypothermic and needs to be warmed up? Cast a cold spell on her tail to force her scales to go hot so she can give them her body heat. A little too overstimulated in the bedroom? Wonder how those cold scales feel against naked flesh in the midst of it? 😏Must be nice having that instant gratification of feeling her actively trying to cool down after being ravished.

#silversirenwrites #oc: minovae arangeir #regill derenge x minovae arangeir

[bbbellamywrites]

i do want to preface this by saying that i don't have the updated dash. i will also say that if/when i do get the updated dash, i will not be likely to use tumblr until it is reverted or an official option is made to let each user choose. the screenshots i've seen are stressful - on a website that is already rather crowded visually ( especially during holidays or whatever silly little events you put on ), taking away what little void space there is? turning it into a visual clone of twitter and instagram? i avoid those sites because they are visually distressing and overstimulating for me.

on top of that, the shift of everything from a neatly organized dropdown/header bar into two columns - in which main functional links/tabs have been moved to the opposite side from where they have been for over a decade? to match with twitter, which people also hated that when it changed? in a forced update that has no toggle that allows people to switch back to the old format? maybe it is easier for some people - that is fair and i'm not saying it's not better from some people! i am however saying that it is also far less accessible for some people, and you are not progressing by just trading off different forms of accessibility/inaccessability.

also, one of the biggest issues i have with everything - beyond the visual issues and the lack of taking your userbase into account when making drastic changes ( especially unwanted ones, like the reblog chains ) - is the patronizing way i've seen certain staff members responding to people. statements like "you'll get used to it", or "i didn't like it but now i do" ( with the implication that users should just get over it and like it too).

i don't know, i've been just dumping my thoughts and this may not be terribly cohesive, and it's far from all of my thoughts, but i needed to just get some words down.

#new layout #new dash #general complaints #negativity #idk foeidjsa

[lucysweatslove]

I decided to stay home from school today. I tried putting on a pair of leggings and long story short, sensory needs said nope. I don’t know exactly what it was other than just a sensory nope. Leggings are usually safe, but today they weren’t. Idk. (Before anybody tries to tell me I need to “get over it” because I won’t have this luxury in clerkships or beyond: scrubs have never been unsafe so as long as I can wear scrubs I’m fine, and I can make do with a bad sensory day if needed but I’m not about to get myself closer to autistic burn out because of both clothing/tactile sensory overstimulation and auditory overstimulation just to hear somebody tell me not to transfuse a stable, euvolemic patient with a hemoglobin of 7.5. I CAN do it, I am just prioritizing myself right now because that’s an option).

My husband asked if I had class today because I’ve been on the couch in my robe… and when I told him I was skipping, he told me “don’t make this a habit like in college.”

And now I’m realizing I skipped a lot of class in college because of my autism. I didn’t have the framework to understand back then why I was constantly skipping class, but I do now. I was constantly overstimulated so I was getting nothing out of class.

I tried to not skip classes at all for the first 4 months of med school, and in that time I’ve had two episodes of meltdown after sensory overstimulation. I know full well that I’ll have days like this in medicine. It’s unavoidable, and fun fact, non-autistic doctors burn out and have similar meltdowns too because of the unreasonable stress training places on us. I’m okay with that. I’m learning how to manage it well enough. But honestly? I think we should be addressing how unsafe training can be. “You won’t have the option to meltdown in the future” OR MAYBE, just maybe, we shouldn’t expect a singular person to be “on” all the time? That’s why call schedules are split and your all share work. Employees too stressed and turnover is high because of burnout? Hey maybe the issue is a focus on over-productivity to make money for admin?? Maybe if you just hired an extra person or two, everybody would do a lot better, not just the autistic or disabled people? Just a thought. And yeah, actually, I’m perfectly content with a reduced case load + reduced pay as an attending to accommodate my disability needs. If going part time keeps me safe, healthy, AND providing best care for my future patients, I’m gonna do it.

Anyway, yeah, I’m rebranding “skipping class today” as “reducing my stimuli to reduce likelihood of future burnout.” Because that’s what it is.

[priestessofspiders]

My Son's Reflection Is Wrong

I have always been afraid of mirrors, ever since I was a young child. I knew it was irrational of course. I never was afraid when I would see my reflection in a puddle or on the darkened window of a shop as I walked down the street. It was specifically mirrors which made me uncomfortable. I always feared that I would see something other than myself looking back at me.

This explains why I was less than thrilled to find the large, antique silver mirror in the bedroom of the house I was renting. Were it my own place I would have thrown it out then and there, leaving it on the curb and relying solely upon the mirror in the modern and well-kept bathroom for all necessary reflective purposes. Alas, I didn't think my landlord would think too highly of his tenant tossing out expensive antique furniture, so I contented myself to simply move it into a spare room.

I had moved to the house for the simple reason that it was fairly cheap and I didn't have much other choice. My husband passed away earlier that year due to a heart condition, leaving me simultaneously a widow and solely responsible for the care of my son, Chester. Fortunately, my husband's life insurance policy turned out to be reasonably generous, but I still needed to downgrade our living situation if I was to take care of Chester without another source of income. Beyond the obvious fact that I have now been left to raise a child without the assistance of a spouse, there is another reason why I cannot supplement my funds by taking on a job; Chester is autistic.

I want to make it very clear, I'm not an "Autism Mom". I loathe the self-absorbed whiners who spend every spare second complaining about the immense burden of raising an autistic child, who bellyache endlessly about how difficult their lives are. I hate all the videos of exasperated parents recording their child's meltdown on camera, to show to all the world how difficult it is for them. I am disgusted whenever I see some selfish moron recommend ABA "therapy" to keep unruly autistic children's more unconventional behaviors in check. My son is not a cross to bear, not a weight on my shoulders. He is my child, and I love him.

I won't deny it can be difficult sometimes, but I can only imagine how hard it is for him. I find the terms "high functioning" and "low functioning" are relatively useless descriptors. Like most things in life, it is a tad more complicated than that. Chester is, generally speaking, nonverbal, and I've never known him to say more than 20 words in a single day. In addition, he tends to get overstimulated quite quickly from loud noises, and often flaps his hands as a form of stimming, especially when he is having some difficulty expressing what he wants. The only behavior of his which ever actually frustrates me is his elopement, which in the context of autism means that he has a tendency to wander off or run away whenever he feels stressed. We work around these traits, and I think generally I've been able to make life quite comfortable for him.

Chester has always shown quite an aptitude for reading and writing, despite his relatively young age of only 9 years old at the time we moved. When he needed something that cannot be articulated through gestures or single words, he would write it down on a whiteboard I've given him for this purpose. To help with his sensory issues regarding loud noises, I purchased a set of ear plugs for him, the same sort that one would wear at a gun range to prevent hearing loss. These generally aren't necessary within the confines of the house, but on those occasions when we do go out in public, I genuinely think they help him quite a bit.

Given his condition, combined with the relative isolation of our new rural home, it has been necessary to homeschool Chester, though that hasn't really been any sort of a problem. Before I got married I spent a few years teaching elementary school, so I already have the required skills. I've always believed in a somewhat more active approach to learning than some of my peers, and since our new home is located directly next to a forest, this was fairly easy to accomplish.

The house itself was rather old, built in the 1920s if my landlord was to be believed. While recently renovated to a more modern standard at some point in the preceding decades, it still has an air of oldness to it, something in the angles and general structure of the place. The main feature that seemed significantly out of place was the wrought iron fence that surrounded the house, a far cry from the traditional wooden fence I was used to from a life in the suburbs. There was no formal gate that led out to the forest behind the house, just a gap in the fencing with a small pile of rusting iron posts nearby. I never asked the landlord about it, but judging by a stump outside the boundaries of the backyard, I assumed a tree must have fallen down and damaged it.

Children don't want to sit still and be lectured, they want to be outside, to run around and be active. I'd always try to teach Chester his lessons in a way that connected to the forest. I'd lift up logs and show him all the squirming creatures underneath so I could teach him all the differences between them. I'd have him count the rings of a fallen tree and teach him about the things that happened in the tree's long and storied life. I know that sometimes he would get bored, while I do believe kids love learning, I'm not an idiot. I know that sometimes children just want to run and play, but I genuinely do believe he got more out of our lessons in the woods than he would have gotten from a traditional school environment.

Even outside of the context of Chester's lessons, we spent a lot of time in those woods, slipping out through the gap in the fence into the forest beyond. There was something so peaceful about that place, it felt remarkably untouched by the civilization that bordered it. I'm not sure exactly how far the forest extended, but it always seemed to go on forever, like if you just kept walking you could go the whole rest of your life surrounded by trees. I always kept a fairly close eye on Chester when we were out there. As much as I loved the place, I did often worry that he would simply run off, but there was never anything stressful enough in the woods to make him do so. The only real concern was to make sure he took of his shoes once he got back to the house, as otherwise he would track dirt inside, making quite the mess.

Things went on the way I described them for about a year after my husband's passing. In between my caring for Chester and all the mundane errands of modern life, I attended therapy and worked to move on from the loss. I began to make peace with the fact that he was gone. Chester and I celebrated his 10th birthday out in the woods, moving to the backyard once night fell so we could finish off the evening roasting hot dogs over the firepit while I read him some relatively tame ghost stories. Chester didn't like scary movies or violent video games, but gently spooky stories, the sort that send a pleasant chill down your spine, made him quite happy. I believe I was reading out The Mezzotint to him when we heard the music.

It was a soft, strange sound, a faint piping emanating out from the forest beyond, gentle yet eerie somehow. The faint notes reminded me of the sound of panpipes, but not quite. If I listened very closely, I could almost discern a faint drumming as well. Chester looked out into the darkness beyond the fire, flapping his hands gently. He didn't seem upset or scared, just faintly awestruck. "Fairies", I heard him whisper.

I felt somewhat uncomfortable as we both looked out into the blackness of the forest. The sound of crickets had died utterly as soon as the piping began, and we sat in silence, listening to that peculiar and otherworldly performance. It felt like something out of a dream, and I don't think it would be possible for me to recall the melody in any real detail. It was ephemeral somehow, slipping through the cracks of my memory like water through a sieve even as I listened.

At some point the music ceased, and the crickets returned to their chirping. I led Chester back inside and tucked him gently into bed. I've never been especially afraid of intruders, given how far away we were from any major population center, but that night I double checked that all the doors and windows in the house were firmly locked.

- - -

I didn't sleep well that night. I'll admit I'd still not gotten used to sleeping alone, and often had difficulty falling asleep, but this felt different somehow. It seemed that whenever I was close to finally falling unconscious, I'd see a shadow pass across the wall, or hear something just on the very edge of my perception, something that reminded me faintly of music. Whenever I'd jolt up in bed, looking or listening for what I thought had disturbed me, there was nothing there. At some point I must have finally fallen asleep, because found myself blinking out the daylight from my uncovered window, groggy and irritable. My skull throbbed with a terrible headache. My alarm clock hadn't gone off, it seemed to have become unplugged in the night. Possibly in my tossing and turning the cord had somehow come out of the socket.

It was in the late morning, far later than I usually woke up, and Chester was frustrated because he hadn't had breakfast yet. He didn't say anything, but he seemed glum and looked at me with justifiable annoyance and hunger. I did my best to prepare him some scrambled eggs and bacon, but in my pain and fatigue I managed to burn the bacon and cook the eggs to an unpleasant, rubbery consistency. I deeply regret what happened next.

I swore about the bacon, the eggs, the pan, the stove, the landlord, my dead husband, anyone and anything that could conceivably be even somewhat to blame for the ruined breakfast. I know it was wrong to react like that in front of my son, I know it was immature, but I was tired, in pain, and just wished desperately I could go back to bed.

When I'd finished with my profanity-laced rant, I heard the back door closing and looked out the window to see Chester fleeing out into the forest, visibly distressed.

"Shit," I muttered to myself, and ran out the door after him, calling for him to come back. I tripped on one of the fallen iron fence posts and fell to the ground, knocking the air from my lungs. When I recovered enough to stand up, Chester was long gone, vanished among the trees.

I looked through those woods for hours. As I've described earlier, I don't know how large the forest behind my house is, but it still feels odd that in all that time I never saw him. Chester's only 10 years old, he isn't some sort of Olympic sprinter, and the foliage isn't so thick that I could have lost him that easily. I kept wandering among the trees, shouting out Chester's name with increasing panic. Sometimes I thought I'd hear a branch snapping or a child's giggle, and I would turn about, desperately trying to catch a glimpse of the sound's source, but there would be nothing there. It was fairly far along in the afternoon when I finally decided to head back and call the police.

Despite how long I'd spent in the forest, it was a remarkably quick walk back to the house. It felt almost as if the walk into the woods was somehow further than the walk out. I opened the door and started moving to the bedroom to get my phone, when I suddenly saw Chester sitting on the couch, reading a book.

I nearly wept with relief and rushed to hug him, apologizing over and over for scaring him and asking if he was okay. I was so happy to see my son again I wasn't even angry with him for running off.

"I'm alright mom. I'm really sorry for running off, I was just scared. I won't do that again, please don't be angry" said Chester, tears welling up in his eyes.

I froze.

Chester rarely spoke more than a single word at a time. His longest sentences I could remember before this were maybe 3 or 4 words long at most. This was utterly unprecedented, and I had no idea how to react whatsoever.

"Mom? Are you okay?" he asked, looking at me with a confused look on his face.

- - -

The next week went by very strangely. To be very clear, autism isn't something that just goes away. It's not a disease, it's not something that can be "cured". And yet, Chester no longer showed any signs of his previous behavior whatsoever.

His personality seemed intact. The sort of things he now spoke aloud seemed relatively in keeping with the sentences he would have previously written on the whiteboard. He still had the same love of reading, the same interest in ghost stories, he still played with the same toys. In all respects he was the exact same boy as before, simply now he was neurotypical.

He didn't have to wear earplugs out in public anymore, and true to his word he never ran off when under stress. He didn't even flap his hands, he just kept them calmly at his sides. It was totally surreal.

One day I was teaching him his lessons out in the woods, and he told me "Mom? I think I want to go to regular school. I want to be with the other kids." I was completely taken aback. Chester had never showed even the slightest interest in going to a public school before this, and on the few occasions he'd had to interact with other children, he'd been far too shy to play with them. Of course I told him I'd be happy to send him to school, what else was I supposed to say? That night I sent off emails to the nearest schools in the area, asking about late enrollment.

It was the second week after Chester's sudden and unprecedented transformation that I began to notice something else that was strange. Despite the fact that we were spending a decent amount of time outside in the woods, Chester never left any dirty footprints in the house anymore. It wasn't that he had suddenly become more careful about taking his shoes off, he was still running inside with his sneakers on the same as he always had, but there was never any dirt or mud. I just assumed at the time he must have been wiping his shoes off while I wasn't looking, and in all honesty I didn't pay it much mind. It's only in retrospect, knowing what I do now, that this sticks out in my mind.

He also didn't eat very much anymore. He didn't snack at all, and whenever I prepared him his meals, he only ate very small portions. He never showed any signs of weakness or that he was losing weight, so I didn't bother him about it, there would be no point in forcing him to eat more than he wanted to, but it did strike me as very odd.

It wasn't until the incident with the mirror that I realized that it wasn't my son.

I was looking for some books I'd packed away in cardboard boxes in the spare room. There wasn't a lot of space on the bookshelf in the living room, so I tended to switch out the books on a semi-regular basis for ones kept in the spare room, aside from a handful of mainstays. It was while I was doing so that Chester walked over to the doorway and asked me where I had put his toy robot. I looked up from what I was doing to answer him, when I caught something out of the corner of my eye, something deeply wrong. It was the old silver mirror, pointed towards the doorway. It wasn't reflecting my son.

I turned to look closer, my words dying on my lips as I gazed at the figure in the mirror, the old terror I'd always felt looking into such things resurfacing suddenly and violently.

The thing was dressed in Chester's clothes, but that was about the only real resemblance the thing bore to him. It was a crude marionette, carved from untreated and unpainted wood, clumps of bark still clinging to it in places. The mouth had a jaw like that of a ventriloquist dummy, albeit with crooked teeth made from sharp flints jammed into the wood. I saw bits of old food stuck to the teeth and mouth, remnants of meals I had cooked earlier in the day. The eyes were simple holes with bits of colored glass, like marbles, held within. It was suspended above the ground by an inch or two by thick brown twine, like the sort one would use to close a package in days before packing tape.

I stared in stunned silence at the mirror before turning around, only to find Chester standing there, head cocked slightly in confusion. "Are you okay mom?" he asked, with concern in his voice. I turned once again to the mirror, seeing the horrible puppet thing once again. I wanted to vomit as I watched its jaw work up and down mockingly. "I'm sorry, I'll find it myself, I didn't mean to bother you" it said, before jerkily "walking" down the hallway to Chester's bedroom.

- - -

That night I watched "Chester" carefully in the bathroom mirror when he brushed his teeth, but there didn't seem to be anything strange about him at all. He moved like a person, not a puppet, and when I gently squeezed his shoulder I felt flesh and bone underneath the fabric of his clothes, not hard wood and bark.

I didn't sleep. Creepy as it may sound, I just sat in Chester's room and watched that thing lay in bed, snoring. It seemed to be asleep. I stayed there all night, just watching, until it woke up the next morning, asking me what I was doing. I didn't respond, and left without making breakfast. It's not like it would have needed it.

I wasn't even sure where I was going at first, I was just driving to clear my head. I eventually realized I was en route to an antique store the next town over. I'd visited the store a few times before, looking for bits of furniture and the like immediately after moving. I didn't know why I was headed there now, but it felt almost as if I were being drawn there somehow. I pulled into the parking lot and left my car, pushing through the shop's door with the tinkling of a bell.

I wasn't sure what I was looking for, I just wandered the store in a daze, looking around all the various bits of junk and knick knacks with disinterest. The whole store reeked of musty books and wood polish, the smell lulling me into a sort of trance as I meandered among the shelves stacked with discarded history. Eventually though, I found something that struck my eye. It was a small old hand mirror with the telltale tarnishing of real silver. It seemed to call to me somehow, and in my numbed state I didn't even fear the blank-eyed reflection that looked back at me. I picked it up and looked at the price tag. 50 dollars. More than it was worth, but not too unreasonable. I picked it up and brought it to the counter, paying in cash.

The store's proprietor, a thin old woman with graying hair and enormous spectacles, chuckled at me as she rang me up. "Planning on making a vampire hunting kit ma'am?" she asked.

"What?" I replied, the completely bizarre question startling me out of my stupor.

"Just a little joke. Halloween's coming up, and once a few years back I had a gentleman come in here and buy up all sorts of strange stuff. I asked him what he needed it for, and he told me he was going to dress up as Abraham van Helsing for the occasion. He said he was making a vampire hunting kit. One of the items he bought was an old hand mirror, rather like this one. He asked me if it was real silver, and I told him yes, but asked why that mattered, I figured silver was always the sort of thing one would use for werewolves, not vampires. He told me that the reason why vampires didn't show their reflections in mirrors was that in the old days they were made of silver, and that silver was a symbol of purity. He said that if vampires were real and walking about nowadays, they'd be reflected back just fine, since nearly all modern mirrors are made with aluminum. Doesn't tarnish I suppose."

My mind flashed to "Chester" brushing his teeth in the bathroom mirror, face as normal as could be reflecting back at me, before recalling the terrifying thing I'd seen in the old silver mirror. The old woman must have noticed me go pale, she asked me if I was alright. I nodded and left with the mirror, driving back home.

I got back at around lunchtime, and the thing that pretended to be my son asked me if I was okay, and if we would be having lunch soon. I angled the mirror so I could see its face, and saw that crude puppet mouth wagging in vague time with its speech. I told it to wait at the dinner table, and that I would be with it in a few minutes. It did as I said, sitting down and pretending to read a book with its glass eyes.

I reached into the kitchen drawer and pulled out a pair of butcher's scissors. With the scissors in one hand and the hand mirror in the other, I walked up behind the puppet thing, carefully angling the mirror so I could see where the strings connected to its wooden body. I looked to see where the strings led, to see if I could get a glance at the puppeteer, but it just seemed to extend impossibly into the ceiling, passing through the plaster like a fishing line through water.

It didn't notice what I was doing until I'd already cut the first string, one connected to its left arm. It screeched in what sounded like pain, a horrible distorted cry that was a mix of mad piping and a child's scream. It swiped at me with the right arm, but I was too fast for it. After all, it was only wood and strings, and I was alive. I cut the other arm free, and both now fell limp at its sides. Next I went for the legs, snipping the strings both in quick succession. Glancing up from the mirror, I saw what looked like my son floating in the air slightly, mouth wide open as it screamed. I cut the strings connected its jaw and head, and the thing collapsed to the floor in a silent heap. The illusion had been broken, and all that lay before me was a broken puppet. Far away in the distance, I could hear the sound of pipes playing faintly in the woods, a haunting melody which I cannot quite recall.

- - -

I knew I couldn't go to the police with any of this. Who would believe a woman who claimed that her son had been replaced by a puppet? I'd be institutionalized at best, arrested for child abuse at worst, and that's assuming they ever managed to find the real Chester. I spent the rest of the day frantically researching on the internet, typing inane phrases like "child replaced puppet music pipes" or "puppet mirror child double" into the search engine, getting almost nothing useful in response, until eventually I came across some old website detailing European folklore. Specifically, the page on changelings.

I read about medieval peasants convinced their children had been replaced with those of fairies, how their real children had been taken to the woods to be raised by the monsters which stole them. I read of the ways one could protect oneself from the so-called "fair folk", of their hatred of iron. I remembered the wrought iron fence that surrounded the house, the conspicuous gap where a tree must have broken through as it fell.

I've written this in case I don't come back. I've written this so that if I'm never found, they don't think I just performed a murder-suicide in the woods out of grief. I love my son dearly, and I am going to save him from the monsters that took him from me. I can hear the hideous music of their eldritch pipes drifting through the trees, mocking me. I'm taking one of the broken iron posts with me. The tip is sharp as a spear.

#horror fiction #horror #horror story #mirrors #fairies #changelings

[theyluvlyss]

just saw that u watched atsv, and I've been wanting to rant to somebody about it for so LONG. Im curious about your thoughts on it tho, mind sharing?

𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧...

you've unlocked one of lyssa's mile long tangents. prepare to crumble under my wrath of fangirl-ism. to lie buried beneath the wreckage of my infinite declarations. and to suffocate amongst my many, many convictions /ᐠ○⩊○マ~ !

no, but fr, this may be a lot, so I apologize in advance for the length. however, I'll organize all of my thoughts into cute little sections for you and the others who may read this, if that helps any :).

oh, and short disclaimer, the following is my own opinion. I want to remind y'all not to take whatever I say so seriously/to heart. if you don't like what I have to say/think, then just scroll on and go about your day. no hate needed. and, if you'd like to discuss more in depth, dms are always open (I love to talk😻).

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𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 :

I give the movie a solid 8.5/10. the only reason it's not a full 9-10/10 is because of two things;

a.) the pacing was crazy, like, it kind of overstimulated me? not in a bad way, exactly, but it definitely made it hard for me to focus while being slung through, like, ten different emotions every ten seconds. so much so, that when the movie ended, I felt nothing💀 (I was mad/hype/in my feels later, ofc) but like... after everythingggg, I felt very numb and needed a second longer than usual to recollect.

b.) everyone needed to take several high dose chill pills. like, am I the only one who feels as though certain character arcs/developments were erased? and that everyone needed to just sit tf down and t a l k fr? idkidk, don't press me✋🏽😃✋🏽.

other than that, solid movie and I'm so, so, excited for the next one, and I can't wait to start writing fanfic and make a spider-sona (or two...or three or four or five💀-).

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𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐬/𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜 :

the soundtrack is so fire !! straight heat🔥, not one bad track, just banger after banger fr😻😆. when I give it my second watch (cuz no, I didn't watch it again yesterday like I said, I got busy, it's halloweekend, give me a break lol), I'll definitely list some of my faves from the track.

to be honest, though, I don't know what I expected. of course atsv had some heat. so did the first movie ! so I expect beyond the spider-verse to deliver again.

visuals... they ate down for the most part, I was totally expecting that. I only have one, eensy-weensy little pet peeve, and that's the way gwen's world/coloring is done. personally, it's just not my cup of tea, I didn't really vibe with it, which made it hard for me to enjoy a lot of her home world/dimension scenes. and ofc, it's just my opinion. if you liked it, awesome. I don't expect to start something or like... have the whole artstyle be changed, that's not what I'm saying.

I just wasn't messing with it, and that's totally okay :). everyone else was *💋* perfect, and my faves definitely had to be our miles' (y'know, 1610!miles) dimension, pavitr's, hobie's... okay, so, basically, everyone else's but gwen's (y'all are going to start to notice a theme here, btw🥴💀). but, if anyone has some niche facts or interpretations on why her world was colored as such, I'd love to hear them :).

now onto the good stuff >:3...

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𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 :

I- *crying about him every second of the day*...

poor boy needs a break, bro, like... (minus the spider-duties, ofc) I was deeply/heavily relating to his struggles. having all of these different things running through your mind at once, all things imperative for a good future/outcome. and then the constant stress of worrying about/for all of this different shit. especially the family bits, him just trying to do right by them but also needing s p a c e hit home mad hard😭.

and then, omg, all of these people telling him all of these different things... how he, A TEENAGE BOY, has to make all of these life altering (some life ending) choices for MULTIPLE realities, including his own ?? have the adults in the building (movie) lost they whole entire minds?! anyways, sorry, lemme chill out. this is supposed to be about miles💀.

as usual, I loved him and his personality like, truly resonated with this awkward swag vibe he has going on (and have since the first movie) and I just-...

he's pookie, fr, and I wish the world and the ppl who claim to love him in it so deeply would act like such😭💋. and he was so, so, so real for dissing peter (b. parker) every time he'd try to talk because bro, he was such a snitch, idcidc💀. and then real again for the whole, "everyone keeps tryna tell me how my story is supposed to go. Nah... i'ma do my own thing." line, like yesss king, go off✨️.

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𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐠𝐰𝐞𝐧 :

she-... ouuu...

y'all, I can't express how much this lil' girl got on my nerves. not to say that I don't understand, I do, trust. but it's not an excuse. and oh my days, did she make me cringe like... she gives me sheltered person vibes, which I was gonna say isn't her fault, but it kinda is when she shut herself out from the whole world willingly😭. again, I understand why, but she set herself up doing that. on top of being so stereotypically white?

no offense, but I audibly gasped when she called mr. and mrs. morales by their first names😃. like girl🥴- ! and then this whole, "I like you but actually lol no I don't because I'm lowkey with hobie, but no, I'm not." thing she's doing with miles? either miss girl is terrible at social cues, orrrr😗... she's an ass🤷🏽‍♀️. sorry but that wasn't cute, like if I were miles, I would just have to let gwen go, I mean, she even said it herself;

"in every universe, gwen stacy falls for spider-man... and in every other universe, it…doesn’t end well.”

like girl, if that's what you believe, then quit it with the, "you might have a chance with me but probably not, let's find out." vibes you're radiating, please😭🙏🏽. like, throwing the whole spider-verse off balance because, "i JuSt wAnTeD tO sEe hIm aGaIn x'0 !" when she literally knew and AGREED that she shouldn't have ever gone to see him again in the first place (because it's not like miles knew she had the ability to come see him whenever, so she should've just kept it that way) was such a foul move, bro...

anyway, I'm done dragging her, because on the flip side...

gwen deserved so much better from her father. sure, he came around towards the end, but where was the unconditional love and support that a parent is supposed to give, regardless of anything else? like, I was wholeheartedly shook to my core when gwen told him she was spider-girl, and his response was to arrest her.

sir...?! if it were me, I'd take all my shit from my room and never speak to that man again. like, oh 'ight, that's how you feel? I'm out here essentially doing your job after having to deal with the murder of my best friend (which you blamed me for, mind you !) and you want me in jail? still?? even after finding out I'm your lil' princess baby girl a.k.a. your daughter, bitch ???

sorry, but I'll say it again, my dad would never see me again 'cept when I'm busy being spider-girl on the tv😹. and just in general, poor gwen fr, like, I truly felt it when spider-woman swooped into the scene in the start of the movie, and gwen's immediate response was to go, "can you adopt me?" and like, sure, "sHe wAs jOkInG/bEiNg aWkwArD" but, coming from a girl who wished she'd had better parents...

that was not a joke, she fully meant that shit, you're not changing my mind😹🥴. anyways, all in all, I have very 60/40 feelings about gwen. sixty being my dislike, forty being my like (or, more accurately, understanding of her person regardless of my dislike).

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𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫-𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 :

let's just acknowledge that she's voiced by the queen, ms. issa rae😻 !!! like she ate down, I don't care what anyone has to say. now, onto her actual character, she was so honorable for taking gwen in. like wow, I wish someone would swoop into my life, via sick motorcycle and sweet webs, and snatch me up into a better life🤩. and then further advocating for her (gwen) and her actions throughout the movie, even though it was risky?

she's so amazing (as all spider-people tend to be, harhar, puns). and yes, it was unfortunate when she couldn't do much for gwen upon miguel finding out what had been done and yada-yada, but she did all she could/agreed to/said she would do. She stood on her word, and that's all that matters🤷🏽‍♀️.

honestly, I don't have much on her except for the fact that I remember thinking she was pretty sick, so yeah :).

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𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 :

um, I don't... dislike him, I guess? but I definitely don't like him, nor am I attracted to him. I kind of don't get/understand that, but to each their own.

b u t... I do wanna say one thing because I hope that once I do say it, I start seeing a bit of a change/more of it...

I've read some miguel fanfiction, both before and after watching the movie. not saying I scoured the depths of tumblr for it or anything, read every last piece of writing on him there is to exist. that's not the case. but, from what I have read, y'all didn't get his character right imo. some aspects, sure, but his whole persona has been completely misconstrued. misinterpreted.

he's not this extra stoic, leader, jason todd-type/esque dude. to me, that man gave awkward and anti-social. I'd even go as far as to say he might've been a little autistic coded, but again, as always, that's just me ✋🏽😗✋🏽. and sure, yes, there was stoic behavior, which comes along with being rather awkward and potentially on the spectrum. and I'm not at all denying that he's a badass, he totally is.

but outside of that, and outside of him being super aggro towards miles, any scene of him was either him keeping to his lonesome unless absolutely necessary. self-isolating (which can be moreso due to trauma/other mental troubles rather than autism), and wanting nothing to do with anything he wasn't comfortable with (and I definitely wanna say he didn't want to be leader of anything/in a position of power, that's just how shit lined up for him, and it's just like... what can you do🤷🏽‍♀️?).

he was consistent with his information, both giving it and explaining deeper. he didn't like to be interrupted while doing so. and there was that one moment where talking to lyla (lila? lyla?¿) where he said something like, "do the explaining thing that do you do."

"what thing?"

"wha-😃? what do you mean, 'what thing?' the information explain-y thingy😐🤨."

and it's not even the only time where him and lila have had this awkward (but cute, ngl) dynamic with each other. anyways, whatever, I could just be talking out of my ass and being contradictory (becauss he is stoic but he isnt but he is-?¿), but-

I need/wanna see more awkward and introverted miguel content, not so much no-nonsense and hella apathetic...

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𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐥𝐚 (𝐥𝐲𝐥𝐚?¿) :

someone tell me how to spell her name so I can do her proper justice lol🙏🏽.

but anyways, I like her a lot :D. I mean, I know we barely see her, but just from her fit, voice/lil valley girl accent, and vibes alone...

oh yeah, we'd be besties if we ever met, I just know it. lila is so cool and I hope she plays a bigger role in beyond the spider-verse😻.

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𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐞 :

he's so hot and cool and aesthetically pleasing to look at, I just wish I could understand what that nigga was saying🥴💀. no shade, I'm so deeply infatuated with him, I just... that accent is thick as hell, so that's my sign to be sure my next watch has captions on😭.

through context clues, though, I was happy when he sided with miles/supported his journey to do whatever he felt it was best to do. and how he quit being apart of... what was it called, the spider-society? I-... and then at the end when he shows up to help gwen and them help miles. also, hello, the friendship between him and pavitr is so cute, I live for that😭.

also, his suit kicks ass. I thought the spikes and the fact that he fights with a guitar was a very nice touch, and I really dig how when miles was like, "how are you even cooler under the mask?" he's like, "I was this cool the whole time😌.

like okay, periodt, love that for you, king✨️. like shiiii, I believe it🥴😻. also, is it canon that him and gwen were together? or is it a friends with benefits type of deal? who knows, who cares. I don't >:) (I will being writing fanfiction about him).

also, quick headcanon !! I don't know why, but he gives me vibes that he can't stay focused for the life of him. er, like... he can, but to do so, he has to be focused on something completely unrelated. also, hello, he's a spider-person... shooting off un-asked for quips and jokes is kind of part of the spider-package. like, there were so many times where a person (irl or in the movie, doesn't matter) could swear hobie wasn't paying a lick of attention because he's off doing something else, talking about something totally unrelated...

just a completely unserious ass dude, right? wrong. well, not fully. but no, he's paying attention by... not paying attention. does that make sense😃? anyways...

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𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐫 :

he's my silly little meow-meow babygirl and I want nothing but the very best for him😆🥺. no but for real, I was on edge watching him try to "do both." save his girlfriend or save her dad (which was apparently a canon event that miles disrupted but he just wanted to helppp😭).

I was so happy when everything went okay, even if it meant that a canon event was fucked with, but stillll...

also, I thought it was so funny how he's "perfect" lmao. he fr achieved that healthy, work-life-spider-man balance. truly peaked😌✨️. also his theme...!! the cultural tune implemented into it !!! what a bop, an absolute jam, a certified banger. I also really vibed with his spider-suit, like, the colors and incorporations clashed so well together, and just the design itself was so...💫sparkly💫, and the way he used his webs??

again, I adored it ! I have no clue what the arm cuffs (??) at the ends of them are called (plz let me know, because I know they're important/cultural, I believe🙏🏽), but once again, beautifully done and amazingly executed. I'm sure people (especially teens and younger) probably went nuts in the theater seeing that, like, y'all... representation matters, I will scream it until my own ears bleed.

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𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛. (𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐝𝐚𝐲) :

when I tell you miles and I went, "you/he had a baby😃?!" at the exact same time, you would've thought I was in the movie lmao💀.

I don't know, I just wasn't expecting it (even though I probably should have been), but she was the cutest darn thing😻🥺 !! her red hair like mary jane's, but having peter's spider powers was just adorable, and the fact that I saw everyone hold her at least once... my heart... it aches😫♡.

never thought a cartoon would give me baby fever, yet here I am. and it was so special to me how he admitted to miles (even though/while under shitty circumstances) that he was the reason he (peter) even wanted to have her in the first place and made him ready to commit. he wants her to be just like him (miles) and that made me-

😭😭😭♡ plus, him constantly having her with him in the little baby carrier thingy... adorable. like, yes, mj, he did take her on another mission, and she was clearly having the time of her life, lay off😆✨️.

now, on the flipside... peter,,, you're a terrible mentor💀. like, I get he was doing his best, but his best was trash, what can I say🤷🏽‍♀️. just doing miles dirty, snitching and switching sides left and right. I mean, the fact that he only showed up during the "intervention" (more like trap-) just so there was a higher chance at helping miguel to convince miles to let innocent people, plus his own father, d i e? shit move, some mentor/father-type figure you are😒.

also, this next bit should really be in the miguel section (oh well), but... how uncool of him was it to literally set miles up with all of his spider friends and then have them try to convince him, "oh yeah, it's a canon event to let people die, including one of the closest people you have in your life. sorry, that's just how it is, accept it lol." like actually, fuck uncool, shit was totally buckwild and uncouth. on top of the fact that none of them thought to visit him for who knows how long?

yeah... no, get fucked, I hope miles figures out a way to beat the system in the next movie, just out of pure spite🙏🏽.

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𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐞-𝟒𝟐 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 :

I know he was only there for half a second, but listen... how scary was it, coming to that realization that 1610 miles was in the wrong universe. like dawg, I had chilllsss, I was so nervous for him, like genuinely, the stress sweat was insane😃✋🏽.

y'all said tmi? gotchu. anyways, so yeah, but then immediately when uncle aaron showed up, I just knew, I was like, "oh shit, wait, okay, if he's here, and jefferson is dead..." like I put the pieces together so fast, I figured out e-42 miles was the prowler way quicker than I think I should've🥲✋🏽.

but when that mask came back, my mind wiped, cuz um...

like... I'm not the only person that... reacted... to the accent right? like-

I was shook, but when I was... it was like, "😱...😧...😳...😻" yk? like what buisness did he have sounding like that😃💀. anyways, sorry, I'm done. except I'm not, because my mind now contains sooo many headcannons on just earth-42 in general and then e-42 miles, like ?! and that shouldn't really be a surprise to anyone because I'm a writer I do this, this is what I do, I do this, this is what I do🤷🏽‍♀️<3.

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 :

- loved it when they did the thing... yk...

lolll that thing. I giggled very loud :).

- spot was nonchalantly terrifying and funny, and I really a d o r e villains like that. just unhinged and doing thier own thing while still proving themselves great threat and standing on buisness? yeah, he was awesome, I have zero nitpicks on him, he was done very well. althoughhhh.... I know I just said I have no nitpicks, but why is his backstory/origin so insignificant😭? like it's kind of lame, but at the same time, kind of... genius? like, I don't hate it, but I definitely wouldn't have come up with it so I guess that's a good thing. original/unique, in this specific case, I'd say🤷🏽‍♀️.

- I wish my mom was like rio. that's it, that's the post, #mommyissues🥲✨️.

- why did they wash out jefferson's character so badly? like, he still had his moments, but outside of that, he was basically just comic relief, which was... a little jarring given how he behaved in the first movie. I definitely feel like he could've been done a little better, but I supposed it wasn't a crazy bad change. like, there was the fact that miles (as spider-man, but still-) still had to tell him to get off of his ass, so it wasn't a complete 180° change or anything. just a noticeable one.

- ben riley had me giggling hard💀🥴✋🏽. emo ass, I loved him😭✨️.

- the live action editing/clips just- shdjfjekgoekkr !!! like how freaking cool, like I was deadass in my room screaming like a lunatic, like, I get it's the spider-verse so it's obvious those shots would be there but IDC LEMME FANGIRL IN MF PEACE !!!

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alright, that's all lol. if there's anything or anyone else I've forgotten to put in any of the different sections, I'll add them. but yeah, those are basically my surface level thoughts🥴. But of course, if anyone wants to go in depth with me, I'm totally open to that, and I hope to be posting headcanons and stuff about them soon (just gotta... set up the masterlist and stuff first��).

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐨, 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐡... 𝐛𝐲𝐞, 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 !

#theyluvlyss #fanfic #y/n #x reader #appreciation post #anon #anon ask #into the spider verse #spiderman #across the spiderverse #spider man #spidersona #spider punk #atsv #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the verse #spiderman atsv #astv the spot #astv thoughts #itsv #spiderman into the spiderverse #miles morales #spiderman miles morales #hobie brown #astv #astv headcannons #astv hobie #gwen stacy #spider gwen #spider girl

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

I've got a question.

Tw: Single swear, casual ableism(?), inaccessibility, Christmas mention, divorce.

(I think that covers it.)

I live in an apartment right now, with my family. It's entirely too crowded, I'm getting overstimulated regularly, I have no space on my own, I can barely accss my room, the apartment is makeshift accessible, and I have no way of getting alone time short of somehow mustering energy I don't have to hide in the bathroom. I've also been waiting for a Service Dog in years but I can't get a dog right now because I'm not supposed to be here.

I have to run off during inspections and sometimes take stressed, loud cats with me, which overstimulates me heavily and ruins my entire schedule. (I'm autistic.). We can't currently buy a house because my step-dad somehow accidentally didn't fully finish a divorce, so buying one right now would mess up something with assets. Currently we're just waiting on a Court but with no reference for when we can expect that to be.

I've stayed in the same place for three years which is sucky because my brain has gotten used to a quickly moving environment (literally), + we can't adjust anything to make room for anything because we've adjusted to get basically all we can.

I'm stressed, I'm overstimulated, I'm consistently pissed off with the majority of my family, I'm trapped, and the only release is school, which is also a prison. We don't even have room to put up the Christmas Tree this year, which is extremely important to me but would block my access to the hallway - AKA the bathroom and bedroom.

My family is fine. My brothers can be ignorant, overstimulating, etc. sometimes, but never out of malice. My step-dad is consistently ignorant of my limits as a chronically ill mentally disabled person and makes me feel like crap on a semi-regular basis, but my mother usually comforts me and counters his claims. He also seems to prioritize his own wants over my needs a lot, adding to the pain of being here. He's nice, but this stuff pisses me off consistently, leading to overstimulation, trying to talk to him, him enforcing his believes, then loop.

Am I in a traumatizing environment? I realized while venting I felt extremely stressed and trapped, like how we had in previous traumatic situations, this time I just know how to get out and it's the fucking world saying no.

I don't know if I'm stepping on anyone's toes, I'm sorry if I am, but yeah. I wanted to ask. Sorry for the long one.

Hello anon! I appreciate you reaching out. Traumatising environments are largely dependent upon the individual and their support system in cases like this. If your current environment is making for feel anxious, scared, hopeless, unsafe, unloved, uncared for, or other feelings that often come with being traumatised, then I would say yes, and understandably so.

Not having your accessibility needs met, having to vacate the home on a whim, and some of the other things you mentioned can be quite traumatising for some, and the way you describe how you are feeling about it lead me to believe that it is something you are internalising in a traumatic manner.

Please know that your current situation does not have to be anyone's "fault," but that also does not mean it is not harmful or traumatising. It sounds as though your family is in an incredibly tight position, and they are attempting to do their best with what they have. Unfortunately, for reasons beyond their control it seems, their best cannot meet your needs at this moment, and I am truly sorry that you find yourself in this position.

I do hope that this answered your question, and that your family is able to move soon so that you all can have a better quality of life.

~Mod Night.

#trauma talks #mod night

[forgottenyear]

[tw: ca, csa]

[mostly under a cut because of length - >500 words]

As I have written before, I have low tolerance for their chaos. This is how we survived through the amnesia years and beyond (as if we ever reached a beyond).

The world had low tolerance for their chaos. Before their fourth birthday, they were expected to grow up. They were often held to account as the adult in the room.

I said to the mother once, “[my partner] is older than I am, but I am more mature.” Her response was, “you always were.”

--

I am them. They are chaos and they always were, but they were also more mature. I choose not to be chaos, and more mature instead. I am them but I choose not to be them.

And this is how I avoid chaos, apparently.

--

Stress and overstimulation still challenge my anti-chaos, although less so than it did for them. I have a conscious commitment to anti-chaos that they did not. One could chalk it up to maturity, although that muddies the waters some.

I get the impression that stress and overstimulation were challenges for them and so there were likely times when these were sufficiently diminished for them to project greater maturity. But they were still a child. It comes to the same end as the word, “precocious,” does. It tries to justify the unjustifiable.

We are bright. Brightness is not maturity, however. We were exposed to aspects of life that were inappropriate for our age. Exposure is not maturity.

--

[Disturbingly, we may have discovered that we were less likely to be beaten if we were more attractive for a different form of abuse. Reduced to a child’s ability to process, it is hard to imagine much that would not be preferable to a two-by-four. And so, the despicable word, “precocious,” makes a second appearance.]

--

A child who knows how to avoid, even rarely, one form of severe punishment does not possess the maturity to do more than to avoid this one punishment. They do not possess the maturity to understand why a specific action would be undesirable, and certainly less so when the punishments are rarely even arguably corrective.

A child who has survived by forming an experiential understanding of complex adult situations – an ability to read a situation and to predict or to interpret the mood of the adults under a variety of circumstances – is not mature.

A child is never an adult. A child is only ever a child.

--

Under these circumstances, they should be expected to have been chaos.

Given that the lessons were rarely age-appropriate and many were assumed already learned, it should also be expected that we failed to learn many of them. Under these circumstances, we should be expected to be chaos.

We are still chaos – we only hide it better than before.

I am the presentation of our conscious choice not to be chaos. I am the magnification and concentration of one survival skill learned in childhood. I do not always understand, but I persist. I am the imperfect resistance to ever-present childish impulses.

I am who we wish we would be. I am a crude approximation of who, maybe, we ought to have been. I am despite who we are.

I am the mask that hides hurt and confused children. And when we are tired and life gets too challenging, the mask begins to drop.