#trying to defeat same face syndrome

[tinned-beef]

three days!!!!

#woo this was fun #trying to defeat same face syndrome #also i wanted to make it an even number so i scribbled out that last five in like 2 minutes #this was a bit of a struggle honestly 😅😅 #diego was especially difficult #but i’m pretty happy with how they all turned out #ben was the only one i only had to draw once #also thank you so much to everyone who said they liked the ‘rejects’ you guys are so sweet 🥺🥺 #now time for all the tags #my doodles #the umbrella academy #tua #umbrella academy #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #five hargreeves #ben hargreeves #viktor hargreeeves #btw i wanted to draw them all from season 1 which is why viktor is pre-transition! #let me know if thats being rude and i’ll remove it!!

[blazing--comet]

my favorite middle aged yaoi men (they're my OCS)

Orange/brown hair is named Jeff, he caused the apocalypse and is missing half his face 😁🫶(from a zombie) his natural hair color is brown but his pookie (Demon) helped him dye it one time so it's forever orange now and he is cursed to be a red head

Black(or maybe very dark brown ??) hair is named Demon !!!!! Yes that's his name and yes I will elaborate sometime but he used to be dead and now he's alive (very complicated thing related to the apocalypse in this story but I won't elaborate right now) and he's a little bitch but I love him lots 💜💜

#ocs #original character #original art #story #art #my characters #original story #im trying to defeat same face syndrome #slowly making progress #FOUND A NEW BRUSH #AND WENT FERAL OVER IT

[yandere-wishes]

ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕔 𝔹𝕠𝕠𝕜 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖

Synopsis: You finally realize that you and Miguel are stuck inside a comic book romance. 

Warnings: Yandere themes, angst, the reader has Stockholm syndrome but can we really blame her? 

There's something about a sleepless night that's lethal. A loaded gun aimed point blank at your head and your heart and your eyes that are too weary to recall the difference between fact and fiction. Right and wrong.

Miguel should be home soon you think as you stare at the Daily Bugle's nightly broadcast. The headlines are the same as last week's villain attack and the week before that, and the week before that. 

'SPIDERMAN REPORTED DEAD AFTER TANGLE WITH NUEVA YORK'S NEWEST VILLAIN!'

 You think this is the 18th time he's died this month. A hologram dances in front of you, some withering reporter adamant in his claim that this time. This time for sure Spiderman is dead. A Harrowing claim, one you know to be false. Your lover isn't so easy to kill, you should know on account of how many times you had tried. Back when you'd painted Miguel O'Hara as the villain in your story, back when you were so obstinate to return to a wholly ignorant life of so-called freedom. 

Miguel can't die, you refuse to believe that a man like that is subject to such a mortal thing. 

You use to try to imagine a Miguel that had grown old. You couldn't back then and still can't today. Because heroes are eternal, or so you've come to believe.  They die a hundred deaths and reawaken younger than before. Heroes aren't immortal -that's the part that makes your heart skip a beat- yet death has never had the chance to lay claim to them. Miguel is fine you're sure of it. 

There's a noise, a disturbance in the wind, the sound of thousands of coiled webs being used to sling across the air.

A sign that Spiderman has arrived.

He's here.

You can't help but smile. 

"What's the old man saying this time?" 

You turn to see Miguel, land at the edge of the rooftop. Legs limb as he staggers towards you. With a defeated moan he sits down. Close enough for you to inspect the galaxy of bruises that dance across his stunning face. 

When did you fall in love with him, again? 

"You're supposed to be dead," you say, a bitter laugh following, the peculiar words.

"I think that's the 14th time the Bugals had a spread on me dying" He chuckles, dry and humorless. 

You bite your tongue to avoid correcting him. 

"Who was it this time? Venom or Flipside?" you ask, trying to guess which of the two had been able to give the Miguel O'Hara a run for his money. 

"Just some kid, from another dimension. Mocoso already screwed up the canon once, and he's damn well trying to do it again. He used Spider Bite to send himself home, so I didn't get the chance to..." He doesn't bother finishing that sentence. Doesn't have to, you've seen worlds collapse upon themselves because a tiny imperfection had distraught the canon. You know why he does this. You know why he must do this. No one is exempt from the canon. No matter how young and naive they may be. 

How peculiar the life of superhumans are. For all the guts and glory every hero's world is only bounded by thin silk strings. Perpetually on the verge of collapse should the chosen one refuse to follow destiny's orders. 

Heroes aren't pretty, they neither sparkle nor shine. Instead, they burn with a self-lit fire that grows out of control, burning until only ashes remain. Heroes are tragedies swung across every dimension. War-torn children with blood under their fingernails and chipped teeth from one too many close calls. Heroes aren't pretty, nor beautiful, nor divine. They're mangled creatures who come alive at night, staggering across half-lit streets doing what they believe is right. 

You've tried to commit this to memory. Tried to memorize it so you wouldn't make the same mistakes as every lovesick idiot who's fallen in love with a superhero. 

But sometimes it's so hard to remember, especially when Miguel has been your only companion for months now. The only person you have to talk to. The only person who is there in the early hours of the morning when even sleep abandons you. And he's always there again at night to tuck you in before he departs to fight whoever has broken the few simple rules that the canon calls for. You've almost come to appreciate his paranoia and insistence that you stayed locked inside the penthouse. Although he's grown a bit bolder as of late. Permitting you free range of the terrace and rooftop. A sign of good faith, he'd called. Whilst you'd presume that he's come to enjoy you waiting outside to greet him when he returns from the miseries of being a golden boy. 

"I try to save everyone, I try to make sure the universe is held upright. So why the hell does everyone always treat me like I'm the villain?" His voice is raising, fangs glowing in loose rays of starlight. His hands are crossed in annoyance. You rest your hand on his arm as you snuggle closer.

Heroes and villains, what's the difference? 

That's a question the two of you have been pondering for too long now. 

Even though you doubt  Miguel truly knows who he is. It's hard to fall into the orderly boxes of 'good' and 'bad' when the fate of every universe lies on your already brittle shoulders. 

He's a hero who acts like a villain. That's what you use to call him. Back when he'd first plucked you away from your ordinary mundane life.Deeming the world too dangerous for a defenseless little civilian such as yourself. He had promised to love you, to cherish you. Back when you'd been so resistant to play the role of the hero's lover. But seeing as how no matter what nightmares he went through as Spiderman, he had still kept those two promises. You had slowly started to grow fond of him

Time and time again Miguel has made you feel like a butterfly caught in a spider's web. Wings clipped and waiting for the inevitable. He's overbearing to the point where his sheer presence feels like a boulder placed on your chest. Or maybe his strings have finally found their way to your heart, coiling around the organ controlling its every beat and pulse. Yet somehow, somehow, you started to desire more and more of him.

You're in love with the hero who plays the villain. 

You're in love with the villain who bares a hero's mask. 

"You should be more careful when dealing with the other spiders. I hear they're not all as precautious as you." Your fingers trace the purpling marks on his cheek.  Sliding from one universe to another. 

You know Miguel isn't a tiny spider he's a bloodthirsty tarantula. Yet you still worry. Fear that one day he may fail to return home. 

"You shouldn't worry about me preciosa,"

"Someone has to, Miguel, you're not as indestructible as you may think."

"If I kiss you will you stop complaining?"

There's no room to answer, his lips rest on yours, forceful and sweet. Captivating, dominating, and as always overbearing. His fangs slowly sink into the back of your lips. That familiar iron taste invades your mouth once again. 

Sometimes Miguel feels like a hero, shouldering the universe's burdens, and fighting for what's right. After all, with great power comes great responsibility. This is what he wanted, he always wanted to be the hero.

But sometimes when the spider's lair is abandoned and he returns home to you, he can't help but feel like the villain. He's protecting you he knows that. Justifying it is easy when you watch dimensions wither away in violent glitching and endless screams, daily. Yet he wonders if his predecessors were ever like this. If the heroes are supposed to keep their lovers locked away. Alone yet safe. A fair trade in his mind. 

Miguel isn't quite human, half-everlasting and half-horror. 

A dangerous combination

Or at least a confusing one. 

The point is he's some sort of hero. But that also means he's some sort of villain. Even the old tales got things wrong, not every superhero is carved from porcelain and ivory. Not every villain is built from ash and rage.  

Sometimes heroes are carved from gravestone granite and glazed with poison. Sometimes their powers are self-inflicted curses that chew away at flesh and bone. sometimes the hero's halo is made of barbed wire digging into his scalp and embittering his thoughts. Sometimes heroes kill themselves before any villain gets the chance. Spitling their body apart a million times a day because destiny decided to play a cruel joke on them. Picking the weakest of all mankind to become its guardian. 

When he pulls away from the kiss, he lifts your hand to his mouth. 

His fangs sink into your finger puncturing bone as he gnaws the stress away. Blood leaks down his chin, spilling over the rooftop. He pulls your body closer. An anchor in a never-ending storm. 

You kiss his chin, looking into his eyes. Eyes that can never choose whether they wish to be human or monster. Your head instinctively finds his chest nestling into the cold metal of his suit. 

Oh, how you wish you could crack his rib cage open and crawl inside. 

Sometimes you think back to the original tales. The ones from your dimension, albeit it seems that -regardless of a few rare exceptions- the stories are consistent in every universe.  

The story always goes the same. Peter Parker falls in love with MJ or Gwen, you've come to learn that in the long run, it doesn't really matter. Spiderman saves them again and again. Until the whole world knows that Mj or Gwen are somehow connected to the masked hero. But never once does she leave his side. Rebellious blond or dotting redhead, Spiderman's lover stays regardless of how desperate and vicious the villains become when they start to learn that the story always ends in the hero's favor. 

It's every gal's dream to be the lover of a superhero. Awaiting their betrothed's triumphant return. Greeting them with amorous tidings and cherry red kisses. 

You think you're Gwen or Mary Jane. Or whoever else decided to fall in love with the troubled boy who has radioactivity coursing through his veins. The boy who was deemed a hero and thus was destroyed because of it.

Of course, there's the other part. The underlying message of the story, that parents all so conveniently 'forget' to tell their children. The disease of the otherwise perfect tale. They forget to tell you that Gwen Stacy fell to her death and Mary Jane is left abandoned, once the hero realizes that his mere presence is a curse. Stories may end in the hero's favor but much like the villain the lover is also doomed by the narrative. That's normal for any hero's lover. They always burn out to cater to the hero's ever-fuming torch of justice.

you feel broken, as you're sure they did too. An unspoken rule of being with a hero is that eventually, you start to lose your sense of self without them. It doesn't make sense when you put it like that but along the way bits and piece of you broke off. Pieces that you forgot to patch up. You've been mending by using segments of Miguel to make yourself feel whole again. It's a small miracle that you still hold a fading memory of whom you used to be before he made you his. A miracle that sweeps through the cracks of your soul. 

Heroes never need to fear death, just an eternity of pain. Losing everyone they love, over and over again. Maybe that's why Miguel's grip is so suffocatingly tight. He knows that eventually, not today and maybe not tomorrow but eventually he's going to lose you too. 

You're a comic book Juliet and he's Romeo with superpowers. Everyone knows that comic book heroes are doomed from the start. Neither you nor Miguel are exceptions. 

Maybe the two of you are doomed by the narrative.

But for tonight, as the moon slowly sinks behind the skyscrapers and the stars fade one by one. The two of you are safe in each other's arms. 

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o hara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #marvel #marvel x reader #yandere marvel #yandere miguel o'hara #yancore #yandere #spider man across the spiderverse headcanons #spider man across the spiderverse x reader #spiderverse x reader #yandere spiderverse #yanderecore #spiderverse spoilers #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere scenarios #lmarvel cinematic universe

[cherienymphe]

Basic Training VII (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON acts, DUB-CON acts, MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @whimsicalrogers​

➥ series masterlist

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

~

Keeping track of the days wasn’t hard. Night and day announced themselves with the setting of the sun and the rising of the moon. It was strange how it failed to feel monotonous, each day so different from the one before despite doing so many of the same tasks. You helped with breakfast in the morning, yes, and you ate dinner with the entire house every evening, but the activities in between weren’t always the same.

It was only just the other day that you’d been shown the nursery, a modest room that had been decorated by the wives and would serve as a classroom from what you’d been told.

Faced with another visualization of how permanent this all was made you lightheaded. You knew why you were being shown these things, why you were slowly being exposed to more and more of what your life here was expected to be. It felt depressing, but not as much as it should’ve been.

After all, at least you knew what the rest of your life would look like…even if it was some sick man’s fantasy.

You hadn’t had another incident with Steve since the vase debacle. You hadn’t been able to do your household tasks for a week, and even when you rejoined the other wives, you found yourself wincing here and there. You got the feeling that Steve had long wanted to punish you, ever since that incident in the kitchen, and while you still felt heavily watched, like you’d try to make a run for it any minute…

Peter was around more, now.

You didn’t like Peter. You were sure you never would, but you couldn’t deny the security you felt in his presence. You couldn’t ignore how much safer you felt all the while knowing that he was just a few rooms away. Sometimes when you were cooking or cleaning or even just attending to some vegetables in the greenhouse, you’d look over your shoulder and make eye contact with a familiar brown pair.

The relief you’d feel was something you didn’t want to focus on.

Sometimes he’d even take over for Jane or Margaret and would take it upon himself to show you how something was done instead. He was the one to show you the nursery/playroom, following close behind him as he prattled on about it. Maybe he’d seen the slight fear in your eyes, the combination of defeat and nervousness as you stared your future in the face.

…because Peter had reached out to take your hand, squeezing it.

Something about his presence had become like a shield. Like protection against Steve and anything else you feared in the house, so dependent upon it that when you woke up for the first time in a while, and Peter wasn’t there, you felt your heart drop. You were fully awake in seconds, sitting up in a slight panic and taking in his empty side of the bed. It wasn’t made, and it was still warm, telling you he wasn’t gone long.

The bathroom light was off, and you didn’t know where he could’ve gone, but when you looked outside the window, you were rewarded with the sight of him. You felt your shoulders relax, but your heart did pause at the sight of Steve and Bucky with him. All three were talking in the yard. About what, you didn’t know, but you didn’t think you were able to go back to sleep until it was time to get up again.

It was too early to get started on breakfast, so you weren’t surprised by the silence of the house when you left your room. You could even faintly hear the cry of an infant coming from somewhere on the other side of the household. It felt surreal to be up so early. With the sun just barely peeking over the horizon, the calm atmosphere, and the faint sound of a child, the place almost seemed like…a home.

You weren’t really thinking much when you approached the backdoor, not even questioning if it would even be unlocked. You guessed you just assumed it would be seeing as Peter and the other two were outside. When you opened the door, it was clear that the sound had caught their attention, all three halting in what they were saying.

You shuddered when your gaze briefly met Steve’s, quickly looking away when it fell on Bucky instead. You gave Peter your attention as you unsurely stood in the doorway, not quite certain on how to voice your need for Peter to come back. You didn’t want to be alone. You didn’t like being alone, and as Peter quickly made his way to you, as if afraid you’d take off at any moment, you felt your eyes water at how ridiculous you were being.

“You know you can’t be out here-.”

“I’m not,” you hurried to say, keen to point out that you hadn’t even stepped outside lest Steve try to use the technicality as a reason for punishment. “I woke up, and you were…”

You trailed off, taking a step back, eyes finding the floor. You felt Peter’s hands on your shoulders as he tried to look into your eyes, and you swallowed, shrugging.

“You weren’t there.”

Peter seemed to understand what you were saying, and you heard him softly exhale. He stepped inside with you, embarrassment filling you for so many reasons, quickly looking away when your gaze caught Bucky’s as Peter shut the door behind him.

“I’m sorry-.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he assured you, guiding you back upstairs. “You just scared me, is all. You’re not allowed outside yet, so you were the last person I was expecting to see.”

You hadn’t even been able to focus on the feel of air and sunlight on your skin for the first time in months. It was something you should’ve been soaking up, cherishing before you were forced inside again, but instead, you’d only been able to focus on how much you didn’t want to be alone.

“Is Steve…? Will he…punish me for that?” you quietly asked as Peter closed the bedroom door behind you both.

“No, no,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’ll talk to him.”

He rubbed your arms before leading you towards the bed, and you made yourself comfortable. You felt the need to apologize again, feeling like you’d still done something wrong by basically dragging Peter back to bed. You frowned at your word choice, something twisting uncomfortably in your gut.

“What were you talking about?”

The question came out before you could really think about it, and Peter paused at the sound of it, looking at you with a look you couldn’t name, and you swore you saw the hint of a smile on his lips before it disappeared.

“Just something Thor did the other day,” Peter eventually told you. “He’s a very unserious guy.”

Peter chuckled at a memory you weren’t privy to, and you nodded.

It wasn’t lost on you that everyone in the house seemed to have the kind of relationships with each other that you hadn’t quite mastered yet. Truthfully, you didn’t know how any of the men knew each other, but they all seemed as thick as thieves. Not even just that, but you noticed how at ease Laura seemed around Sam or Nat around Stephen or Sharon around Clint. They all seemed so familiar and comfortable with each other.

Like a family.

It was hard for you to view this place as anything close to that. After all, these women were here the same way you were, but Margaret had been here for years and seemed to find genuine enjoyment in her relationship with Steve despite how cruel he was. Peter wasn’t half as cruel as him, so that only made you wonder what would become of you in three years’ time. Sometimes you didn’t want to think about that too hard, afraid of what answer you’d come up with.

You knew that you were weak, and you were genuinely scared that you might not be able to even recognize yourself.

It was sometime after breakfast had been made, when you were hidden away in the greenhouse, when Peter called for you. Afraid that you’d gotten into trouble for something, you’d quickly risen to your feet. You could feel Nat’s eyes on you as you stumbled into the house, voice shaky.

“Yes?”

Despite your nervousness, your voice had carried, and it wasn’t long before Peter rounded the corner.

He wasn’t alone.

The man with him had dark hair, but it was greying ever so slightly, and simple glasses framed his face. He and Peter were about the same height, and you warily eyed the strange man as they both approached you. You brushed some dirt off of you, swallowing.

“Am I in trouble?”

Peter seemed slightly taken aback by your question before quickly shaking his head, gaze softening.

“No,” he told you, reaching for you. “Bruce is our call-in doctor. He helps with all the births and health visits. We just figured it was time for a physical. Make sure you’re healthy and all…”

You were looking between them as Peter relayed this all to you, and you found yourself wondering if the doctor…knew. You wanted to believe that he didn’t, but then again, you never thought so many horrible men could congregate in one place and cohabitate with one another and their sick ideals. What was one more horrible man?

“It’s okay,” Peter softly assured you with a hand on your back as he guided you upstairs. “He’s just going to take some urine and blood samples.”

“Blood?”

You had questioned that before Peter even finished, eyes wide as you remembered your last…run-in with blood. The mention of the red substance had you feeling spacey, and for the first time in what felt like too long, you had a brief recollection of your friends…and the sight of their bloody bodies.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Peter murmured as he grabbed hold of you, quick to do so when you started swaying. “It’s okay…”

He helped you sit on the bed, and you eyed the other man as he came into the room.

“Dr. Banner will be quick. He’s efficient like that. Isn’t that right, Bruce?”

His agreement didn’t make you feel better, and you frowned when Peter spoke about getting the blood out of the way first. You couldn’t take your eyes off of the other man as he approached, heart racing at the sight of the needle. Your lips trembled, but before you could see him do anything, Peter took it upon himself to cup your chin, turning you to face him instead.

“Don’t look at him,” he murmured, brown eyes studying yours. “Just keep your eyes on me.”

Peter’s fingers brushed along your skin when you felt the pinch, and you struggled to swallow.

“Did the others have to do this?”

Peter hummed an affirmative, softly smiling at you. His other hand came up to stroke your cheek, and when you felt relief in your arm, his smile grew.

“You did so good,” he praised before looking at Dr. Banner.

You felt Peter’s hand trailing to your neck, massaging the crook of it where it met your shoulder as the other man searched for the cup you were meant to pee into, murmuring about needing to check up on Jane too.

“Thor used to come into my job, sometimes…”

Jane’s voice was very low in the greenhouse, her careful eyes on the door as she recounted her history with the God-like blond. Talking about your previous lives or anything close to it wasn’t encouraged, but after Jane had told you her ‘good news’, a hand on her stomach with a smile, you hadn’t been able to stop yourself from asking.

“I always thought he was handsome…funny…a little too optimistic, at times, but very sweet…”

There was something in her eyes you couldn’t quite place, something in her memories that made her smile dim some. If you had to guess, you’d say it was the memories and feelings of a time before she knew what Thor was really like. A time where she was just an innocent woman with a crush on a seemingly innocent man, unable to imagine the hell he’d put her through.

“He finally asked me out, and of course, I said yes.”

Her face fell some, and she sighed.

“As he was driving me home…I got lightheaded…drowsy…and then I woke up downstairs.”

You frowned at that, somewhat horrified that Jane had known Thor prior to this. Peter was a complete stranger, someone you had never even seen before, and you couldn’t imagine being subjected to this by someone you knew. Someone you trusted, your eyes burned with tears as you looked at Jane, but either out of genuineness or a practiced way of coping, a smile was already on her face again.

“That was… Well, it feels like a lifetime ago,” she slowly said, shaking her head. “…but, now we’re married, and I’m pregnant.”

She rubbed her stomach again, and you felt your own turn.

“Don’t you ever think about leaving?”

Your question was barely audible, fearful of anyone overhearing, but Jane heard you all the same.

“Not anymore,” she honestly told you. “It seemed…pointless. Masochistic to torture myself like that.”

You took a deep breath, heavily exhaling.

“Did you ever…?”

“Try?” she finished with a smile. “Oh, yeah. Twice, I think. After Thor had to sink to Steve’s level of punishment for the whole house to see, I never tried again.”

Your eyes met hers at that, and something seemed to pass through you both at the reminder of how Steve punished Margaret, sometimes. You didn’t even know that any of the other wives knew, and you wondered if it was something like an open secret. Again, you found yourself hurting for the new mom, unable to fathom how your humiliation at the hands of your so-called husband was just a known fact amongst the household.

“You shouldn’t…you shouldn’t try,” she eventually told you, making you look up. “When I was finally able to go outside, it was the first thing I did…and you’ll get caught…and it’s just not worth it.”

She sounded sad for you, but you felt sadder for yourself. You didn’t know how to tell her that you hadn’t even considered the thought in what felt like ages. It was just the other morning that you’d opened the door, and the thought of taking off, the thought of dashing right by the three men in the hopes that you could make it, hadn’t even crossed your mind.

You just hadn’t wanted to be alone.

You looked down as her words marinated within you. Jane had tried to escape twice, and there was no telling how many times Natasha had tried. You’d tried once, and it was barely an attempt, caught by Peter before you could even get your room door open. You didn’t need anymore confirmation of how weak you were, and even at dinner, you found yourself entertaining Jane’s advice and how masochistic it was to entertain thoughts that would never come true.

You weren’t half as strong as she was, and if she’d eventually given in, then what were you holding out for?

Peter could tell that you seemed distracted, touching your hand here and there, grabbing your attention. You gave him small smiles, unable to do much else, until he took another bite of the casserole.

“Pepper said you made this…”

You glanced over at the strawberry blonde, watching as she was engaged in a conversation with Steve and Tony.

“I did,” you told Peter, your eyes meeting his again.

“Really?” he quietly wondered, smile widening as his brows rose. “You did a good job.”

His hand came up to touch your cheek, and something like relief filled you. It was your first time cooking it without having to dump it afterwards, and while Pepper had assured you it looked and smelled great, Pepper was also known for placating you.

“I did…?”

Peter chuckled at how unsure you seemed.

“It tastes great.”

When he turned back to his food, you didn’t mirror him, keeping your eyes on him instead. You thought about when he’d eventually go back to work regularly like he used to before…and you didn’t like how it made you feel. Your chest tightened, and you blinked, finally turning towards your plate.

Without Peter, you really didn’t know how you’d function. After your punishment, you were even more afraid of Steve than you had been before, and you knew how much your slow adjustment irritated him. You knew that if it were up to Steve, you’d be punished every time you ruined a dish or burned some bread or messed up a load of laundry.

You didn’t even want to think about how many talks Peter had with the blond on your behalf.

It was something that weighed on your mind deep in the night, tears in your eyes at having to tiptoe around everyone again. Sure, you were adjusting much better, now, but that was exactly why Peter would have to go back to work again. You were better, now…so, he no longer needed to be here so much and neglect his job.

The thought had you shaking, holding in tears, and Peter must’ve felt it.

“Hey,” he said, turning on the lamp. “What’s wrong? Was it another nightmare?”

You shook your head.

Even those had become less frequent as of late.

“What is it?” Peter worriedly wondered, reaching for you.

You sat up, moving out of reach and wrapping your arms around yourself.

“I don’t want you to go back to work,” you eventually admitted. “I don’t like it when you’re not here. Steve…”

“He’s a lot, I know,” Peter softly said, touching your back. “…but I’ll have to eventually. This was only temporary…to help you adjust without the threat of severe punishment hanging over your head.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, hating that, and Peter made soothing sounds as your head drooped.

“You’ve been doing so well…”

You didn’t say anything to that, unable to voice the mindfuck this entire ordeal was. Peter was the reason you were even here, and so he should be the last person you want around. On the other hand though, he felt like the only thing standing between you and Steve’s ire, the memory of how the blond almost seemed to spit the word ‘weak’ out that day in the basement. He thought you were pitiful.

Pathetic.

…and he was right…but Peter didn’t make you feel that way.

Peter didn’t make you feel dumb for messing things up. He didn’t look at you like a bug he scraped off the bottom of his shoe, like a nuisance. Peter never looked at you like he was just waiting for you to screw up, but instead like he believed it wasn’t possible for you to. You wiped your face, hating that some tears had escaped.

“Why me?” you murmured.

He didn’t hear you, at first, a soft hum escaping him as he moved closer, fingers brushing your neck.

“Why me…? You didn’t even know me…not like Thor knew Jane,” you forced out, voice shaky. “So, I don’t get it.”

You looked at Peter, gaze almost pleading.

“Why did you choose me?”

Why did he choose you and change your life forever? Why did he choose you and get your friends killed? Why did he choose you and force you to leave your mom all alone? Why did Peter choose you and ruin your life?

Peter reached up to wipe your face, moving closer and grabbing your arm. You couldn’t read the look on his face as he pulled you against him, his other hand coming up to rest on your head. You could hear his heartbeat beneath your ears, and your lashes fluttered at the sound.

“I just…knew. “

Your brows furrowed.

“I watched you smile and laugh, and get that little knit in your brow when you hear something that confuses you…”

Your frown deepened at Peter’s words.

“You do it all the time here, like you’re always confused…and you probably are, but I think it’s too cute.”

You could feel Peter’s lips against your hair.

“I just knew it had to be you.”

You didn’t know what you were expecting to be honest. It’s not like you and Peter had ever been anything more than stranger who almost ran into each other at the bathroom entrance once. What else could you have possibly expected him to say? Peter hadn’t known a thing about you then, and it could be argued that he still didn’t, and you suddenly found the bedding interesting.

“I knew I had to have you…and I’d regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t take you.”

You pressed your lips together, sniffing.

“…that wasn’t your decision to make,” you tearfully mumbled.

Peter heard you though if the way his hold on you tightened was anything to go by. His fingers briefly pressed into your skin, hard enough to make you wince, before he eventually loosened his hold. He let out a sigh, chest dramatically rising and falling beneath your head.

“I disagree.”

He pulled away, forcing you to do the same, but his hands remained on you, pressing into your shoulders as his eyes met yours. You had never seen Peter look so serious, lips pressed together and face even as he looked at you. You didn’t think you liked it, and you got the feeling that you said something you shouldn’t have. He suddenly took your chin, his grip tight.

“I wanted you…and so I chose you,” he slowly began. “…and that’s never going to change.”

Your lips trembled.

“You’re mine, now, and you’re never getting away. Do you understand?”

You started to nod before his hand slid down your neck, thumb lightly pressing against the front of your throat. The corner of his lips curved upwards into a small smile.

“I need to hear you say it,” he softly encouraged, and you took a deep breath.

“I understand…”

Peter’s gaze was expectant.

“I’m yours, now,” you whispered.

Satisfied, Peter pulled you against him again, burying his face into your hair.

It was the first really bad nightmare that you’d had in a while. A whole month actually. You woke up out of your sleep gasping for breath, clawing at your throat like something was choking you. You barely registered Peter beside you, waking up with you and reaching for you. He was faintly calling your name, that you could make out, but once you could breathe again, you paid him no mind.

You were too preoccupied with screaming.

It hurt your throat, rubbing against it like sandpaper and making it raw. It came from deep within your chest, the faces of your friends staring at you in the darkness, and you flailed on the bed. Your face felt colder than usual, and you realized it was the cool air hitting your wet cheeks. Every time Peter tried to grab your arms, you pushed at him, sobs festering in your chest.

“Y/N, you have to be quiet,” you heard him tell you. “You’ll wake up the whole house…”

You couldn’t really find it in you to care all that much. Your chest was so tight that it hurt, agony paralyzing you at the memory MJ’s final bloody act to push you away. You sobbed as you remembered Wanda’s heartbroken scream at the sight of her dead brother before she too was treated like nothing more than a wild animal. The disbelief you’d felt at Pietro’s murder was so vivid despite the fact that it had long happened, and you’d had months to accept it.

Peter finally wrapped his arms around you as you cried into his chest, the dark-haired man shushing you. Something about waking the whole house again. Something about Steve, and the mention of the blond had you crying harder. You pushed against Peter, nails digging into his skin as you tried to get away, but he only pushed back.

“Y/N…Y/N, stop,” he softly hissed. “Stop it.”

You’d never heard him sound so stern, and that too made you cry.

A choked wail escaped your lips…and then it wasn’t.

…because it was swallowed by Peter.

His lips on yours had you gasping, heart skipping a beat and chest clenching. His hands were still on your arms, trying to settle them as he moved his mouth over yours. When he let one of them go to rest his hand on the back of your neck, you used your free hand to push against his chest, but it was futile. You only realized it was so dark because your eyes were closed, but when you opened them, Peter was so close that you really couldn’t make him out.

Moonlight cast a pale glow in the room, shining light onto Peter holding you against him, tasting the inside of your mouth as he laid you down. His other hand was on your face, now, holding it in place as he kissed you. You could feel his heart beating against yours, his body completely pinning you down.

“You’re okay,” he murmured against your lips. “You’re okay…”

That’s what he always said, but it never felt true.

When you tried to push him away again, he took your wrists, pinning them on either side of your head. Peter was still kissing you, mouth molding almost perfectly against yours, a hum escaping him when your lips parted. He kissed your bottom lip and then your top one, his own finally trailing to the corner of your mouth as he kissed that too.

When he lifted his head, his nose brushed against yours, and under the glow of the moon, you could see his eyes boring into your own.

“There’s my pretty girl,” he softly said when you blinked at him, sniffling. “You’re okay.”

He let one of your hands go to run a finger down your lips, brushing it along your chin as he briefly pressed his lips to yours again.

“You’re safe, alright…?”

Your heart was still beating wildly in your chest, but remnants of your nightmare were slowly fading away, and you gave him a shaky nod. Peter kissed your cheek a few times before sitting up and pulling you with him. When he had you fully leaning on him as he laid back down, his arm curled around your waist, keeping you against him. You were still shaking, breathing still uneven and tears still in your eyes. Your lashes fluttered as you could feel Peter wiping them away, and you closed them completely when you felt his lips brush over yours one more time.

#dark!peter parker #dark!peter x reader #dark!peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader #Peter Parker #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction

[lelengerine]

now playing... "distractions"

pairing | student part timer!jaemin x student!reader

synopsis | a single cup of coffee actually has you waiting for more.

genre | more 3am fluff thoughts, y/n has down bad syndrome, mentions of food, no specific prns are used (lmk if i missed anything!)

wc | 0.9k

notes | here’s a little something for my bday while my other jaem fic is still in progress <3 i also have a recent addiction to writing down bad!reader rn so… that explains this a lot 😄 likes and feedbacks are always appreciated!

m.list

you sit at the corner table of the quaint cafe near campus, an array of colorful textbooks splayed open in front of you, but your attention keeps drifting away from your studies, and you think you can pinpoint the exact reason why.

na jaemin, a face you’ve seen bearing smiles more often than not from behind the register as he takes down your regular order of coffee during your visits. the two of you shared a couple of classes together, but neither of you have actually tried striking up a conversation with the other — instead, sticking to the comfort of your respective friend groups.

you were never distracted in class because of him. you never even looked his way once! okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, but your point still stands…

today, however, everything seems different. each time he passes by your table to distribute orders, your gaze turns almost against your own will, mesmerized by the effortless charm he exudes and his gentle movements as he serves drinks for other patrons with the brightest smile on his face.

this was exactly why you couldn’t get anything done, god!

“come on, focus,” you chide yourself internally, patting your face a couple of times as you try shaking off the allure of your classmate, but every time you finally to return to your textbooks, you see jaemin smiling at you from the corner of your eye, and suddenly all your efforts go poof in an instant with the sound effects and all.

frankly, the lack of progress you've made has begun to bother you more than you care to admit. you can’t afford to slack off like this today, not when you have a final exam coming up that’s worth 80% of your entire grade, and so you do what any other person would — pack your books up in defeat and prepare to return home in hopes of focusing better — but jaemin has other plans in mind as he approaches your table with a small coffee cup in hand, a poorly drawn smiley face doodled onto its side.

“y/n, right?” he says with a playful grin, “i couldn't help but notice you've been here a while. thought you might need a little pick-me-up for your study session.”

you look up in surprise, not expecting him to address you directly — this was the first time the two of you were speaking to each other, after all. a rush of excitement floods your senses, and for a moment, you're at a loss for words. “oh, thank you jaemin,” you manage to sputter out despite your puzzled state, a faint surge of heat creeping onto your cheeks. “did i… look that tired for you to offer me this?”

jaemin’s chuckles at your words, eyes sparkling. “maybe, but a part of me just wished for you to stay here longer.”

he noticed you were getting ready to leave? moreover, he noticed and decided to make you a cup of coffee on the house?

you take the drink from him, feeling a tinge of elation at his cheeky answer. “you must like having me around then.” you reply teasingly.

“i could say the same about you with the amount of times i've caught you staring.” jaemin replies with a raised brow, crossing his arms together and pretending as if you were in big trouble. no way did he catch you... you made sure to be lowkey and everything!

you gawk at his response before mimicking his accusatory stance, “then... that means you were staring back to catch me stealing glances in the first place. you aren’t as innocent as you think you are.”

“caught me all red-handed.” he raises his hands in the air but he doesn’t hold an ounce of shame, a feathery chuckle escaping him. “you don’t usually leave this early though, what’s the rush today?”

“i can’t concentrate on my notes because of a certain someone.” you huff in faux frustration, hoping he’d take the jest.

“really now?” jaemin laughs, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leans closer, his voice tinged with teasing amusement. “if that’s the case, wait for me after my shift, it ends in around ten minutes anyways.”

you raise an eyebrow, intrigued by his suggestion. “why should i?” you question out, trying to maintain a casual tone despite the flutter of intrigue in your chest. “so you can distract me even more?”

his grin only grows wider after hearing you admit to how you’ve been so affected by him today, “so i can explain the topics to you, silly. you’re studying for the statistics exam, right?”

your eyes widen in surprise, caught off guard by his astute observation. “how do you—”

“we share the class, remember?” he interrupts, his confidence evident as he leans in, voice low and enticing. “so, what do you say?”

you hesitate for a moment, the thought of spending more time with jaemin felt both thrilling and nerve-wracking because you're not sure whether you’d pay attention- correction, you’re not sure if you’d pay attention to your studies, or forget it all once more to admire his features, but ultimately, the prospect of getting help with your studies outweighs the reservations you harbor against it.

“right… okay then. i’ll wait.” you finally agree, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you watch jaemin’s expression light up in response.

“good, i’ll be back quick!” he exclaims, though his feet fail his words as he hasn’t even taken a single step back yet.

“dummy, go back behind the counter before your manager tells you off!” you reply with a quiet snort, and he rushes back to his position as per your command.

guess you have a reason to stay here for a bit longer now.

#nct fluff #nct dream fluff #jaemin #jaemin fluff #nct imagines #nct drabbles #nct dream imagines #nct dream drabbles

[serendippertyy]

trying to defeat same face syndrome one good omens babygirl at a time

#they look so different when i actually use refs i always think i know a character so well until i check and apparently not 😭💀 #whatev they r the sillies of all time #good omens #good omens 2 #aziraphale #crowley #archangel gabriel #beezlebub #my art

[justmenoworries]

Lore Olympus Episode 275 Spoilers

It's okay.

Yeah.

Just... okay.

Hera breaking Kronos' fingers and telling him he's a pathetic little bitch-baby was amazing and a long-time coming. Wish we'd see more of that battle but nope. RS couldn't possibly let anyone but her precious Smurf Boy and Persie have the spotlight for an extended amount of time.

Hades and Kronos just feels like a broken record at this point.

Kronos "Ur bad."

Hades : (

Hades "But wait... I'm not bad!"

Rinse and repeat.

With the exception that RS actually has to wrap shit up this time so Hades remembers he's one of the main characters and defeats Kronos on his side by doing the ajksdajsgj and turning him into a diamond.

Oh and he also completely forgives Kronos for trying to cannibalize him and his brothers, abusing and basically killing Rhea, abusing Hera and trying to do the same to Persie. Because once again a piece of media has to bang the shitty "You have to forgive your abuser to really heal uwu" drum. Which is bull by the way. Abusers deserve nothing from their victims and least of all forgiveness. You are never required to forgive a person who hurt you like that.

Is the whole Persephone Nymph thing RS trying to be smart? "Oh haha everyone complained about the Same Face Syndrome in my comic, now look, I'm doing it too!" How about actually fixing the problem instead of lampshading it Rachel?

Also, hurray for Persie once again not doing shit to solve problems she caused. Now she apparently doesn't even need to fix the whole mortal realm crisis.

Also, Persie, why the fuck didn't you try speaking with Erebus??? You were literally right there in the Underworld. Guess that would've been too much work.

Loving how everybody just flat-out forgot about Morpheus. She's presumably still around in the timey-wimey dimension Hades and Melinoe are but we don't see her. At all. After RS spend episodes hinting at there being an arc for Morpheus about insecurity.

Neat./s

#anti lore olympus #lore olympus critical #lore olympus spoilers #lo critical #anti lo

[noellawrites]

Day in the Lie - Yandere!Marcus White x reader

summary: a day in the life of your less-than-perfect relationship with Marcus

warnings: handcuffing, kidnapping, manipulation, gaslighting, pregnancy talk, general mean behavior, stockholm syndrome, toxic relationship

8:00 A.M.

This morning, you wake up to the alarm clock and notice Marcus' heavy arm slung across your body.

"G'morning babe," Marcus rasps in his morning voice. He pulls his arm away from your body languidly, fingers lingering on your hips.

"Morning, Marcus," you sigh, mentally gearing up for another day of Marcus commandeering your every move.

You watch as Marcus stands up and walks over and pulls your pajama bottoms and underwear off without a second thought. You take in a sharp breath and your handcuffed hand clinks against the bed frame as you maneuver towards your boyfriend.

"Jeans for today, with this shirt," Marcus murmurs to himself, obviously not asking for your input.

He pushes a clean pair of underwear up your legs, then the pants. "Good girl," he praises as he grabs the key to your cuffs and unlocks you.

He dresses you in the shirt and your blue Cloud 9 associate vest, then slides a couple bracelets on your hand to cover up the red marks left behind by the metal cuffs. You watch him slide his warehouse jumper on as he tells you about how he forced Glenn to give you the same shifts and breaks every day.

8:30 A.M.

You sit in one of the back tables between Marcus and Dom, one of Marcus' idiot warehouse cronies. You wait for the staff meeting to start before the store opens at 9, while avoiding eye contact with all of your co-workers.

A very pregnant Dina talks with an also pregnant Amy, and you notice Marcus' eyes scanning them.

“I think you’d look pretty hot like that, huh?” Marcus says, gesturing to your two superiors.

“…pregnant? But—aren’t you infertile?”

“Oh, I know we can do it if we try hard enough. And I’m sure Glenn will approve of using the store’s insurance money to see a doctor. He loves kids!”

“Uh, maybe,” you sigh, feeling defeated.

11:00 A.M.

“(Y/n), go take your break,” Amy says quickly, gesturing towards the break room. It had been a surprisingly busy day, and Amy was having more people go on break at different times to survive the rush.

You nod, signing out of the register and switching places with Brett. As you walk toward the break room, you’re stopped by none other than Isaac. Great, another one of Marcus’ boys.

“Hey there (y/n), where you headed off to?” Isaac asks, stopping clear in the middle of your path and crossing his arms.

“Amy put me on break early since she had to put some extra baggers on. We’ve been busier than usual,” you explain, attempting to walk around him.

“You know Marcus’ rules, no breaks without him,” Isaac warns. God you hate your boyfriends’ stupid friends.

“Okay, I’ll go get him.”

“I’ll go with you, just to be safe.”

“Jesus, fine.”

1:10 P.M.

You check your phone, realizing your lunch break was supposed to start ten minutes ago. Where was Marcus? He had never been great with time, but usually remembered to retrieve you.

You leave Women’s Wear and head to the warehouse. The warehouse is probably your least favorite part of the store: dark, cold and creepy employees.

As you enter quietly through the double doors, you notice Marcus talking and gesturing to his workers. The roughed-up men watch him, enraptured.

“So I was like, ‘we should have a baby,’ and she was like ‘no!’ and i was like ‘you’re just a stupid woman and you don’t have a choice,’ you know, because i basically lock her up,” Marcus laughs.

To your horror, the men join in, shaking their heads at your behavior and subsequently high-giving Marcus. It makes you feel disgusting.

“Marcus, isn’t it lunchtime?” you say in a small voice, coming up behind the group of ten grown men.

“It’s lunch when I say it is, bitch,” he laughs, only softening once he sees the embarrassment on your face.

He walks you both out quickly, frowning once he sees the tears streaking down your face.

“Babe, you know that’s just guy talk, right? I still love you,” he promises, and you nod.

Once in the break room, you grab the blue insulated bag containing the lunches Marcus packed for both of you. Since you couldn’t afford much, you mostly ate whatever the two of you could scrape together from the store without Glenn or Dina noticing.

3:30 P.M.

Marcus' shift had finished unexpectedly early, but you still have thirty minutes left. Instead of heading down to your shared bedroom, Marcus decided to drag you over to the baby aisle and antagonize you.

"Is it just because you don't wanna be stuck with me? Because, uh, sorry, but you're gonna be stuck with me for the rest of your life," Marcus laughs, but deep down you knew it wasn't a joke.

"That's not it, Marcus," you sigh, grabbing some misplaced formula cans and moving them to the correct shelf.

"Then what is it?!"

"Marcus, you treat me like a child! You don't give me any space and I feel like I can't breathe. And no offense, but you act pretty childish most of the time, too. And on top of that, we literally live in the store's basement! How are we supposed to raise a child when our own relationship is so dysfunctional?" you sigh in frustration.

Marcus grows unexpectedly silent as you return to organizing the aisle. Even if he was bugging you, you were still technically on the clock.

"I'm just wrapped up in this... I don't know, this... fantasy of us. Happy, living somewhere nice, not having to worry about you leaving me. I think we would raise a good kid," he states simply.

His answer surprises you, and despite everything wrong with Marcus, you agree with him. You still love him deep down somewhere.

6:00 P.M.

You cook some recently-expired ramen on the small camping stove in your shared room as Marcus cleans up. He rarely cleans, but he was excited after you admitted to him that you also loved him and wanted to try and make things work.

"I'm so stoked that you actually love me! Nigel and the boys were in doubt, but I said they just don't know you!"

You laugh, using a small wooden spoon to stir the noodles in the pot over the portable stove.

When you glanced back up, you notice Marcus taking down his Animal House poster and putting up a poster for your favorite TV show.

"Marcus, you really don't have to do that," you say, touched that he would even consider adding something of yours to the walls.

"No, I want to. It's your place too," he explains, taping it to the wall.

"There, now it's home," Marcus says, standing back to admire his (slightly crooked) work.

"I love it babe," you laugh, "thank you."

And when he walked over to hug you, you didn't even flinch.

#marcus white x reader #marcus white imagine #marcus white #marcus superstore #superstore x reader #superstore imagine #yandere marcus white #yandere superstore

[you-show-me-love]

Gallavich Kinktober 2022 Day 20 - wax X “Yeah, that’s it, baby, just like that.”

For @gallavichthings and confessions of love

Read on Ao3 or below the cut

Carl watched his older brother smile wide, phone pressed to his ear. He had lost Ian to the call fifteen minutes ago, but he didn't mind. He rolled his mostly empty beer bottle between his palms and listened to one side of the conversation.

"So what did you do?"

The response was incoherent to Carl's ears, but Ian's smile only widened.

"Of course you did." He chuckled before sparing Carl a glance, probably just then remembering his brother was on the porch with him.

"Listen, I gotta go Mick. I'll see you tonight?"

A brief pause before they said their goodbyes. Carl waited until Ian's phone was in his pocket before speaking.

"You love Mickey?"

Ian didn't answer right away, instead eyeing his brother with curiosity.

"I like how he smells."

Carl grunted and tilted his beer against his lips, swallowing what was left in the bottle.

"It's only been a few months." Ian began unprompted, just as Carl expected. He could feel the weight of things unsaid weighing the redhead down. Probably a side effect of middle child syndrome.

"Well when ya know, ya know. Ya know?"

"Yeah I know." Ian sounded almost defeated, making Carl's spine sit a bit straighter. He liked Mickey, way better than any other boyfriend Ian had ever had, and he didn't want to see their relationship explode in a fiery wreck like every other Gallagher relationship.

"Is it the kid?"

"No!" Ian practically shouted, "No. I love Yevgeny."

"So you can say you love his son but not Mickey himself?"

He got a dead arm for his trouble.

"Ah, dick! I was just stating the obvious." He grumbled, rubbing the spot Ian had punched. This was the younger brother curse, getting punched or noogied, even at twenty years old. The brothers sat in silence and Carl thought their conversation was over, but then Ian released his bottom lip from between his teeth and spoke with an edge of vulnerability.

"What if he doesn't feel the same way?"

Carl looked out onto the gray and drab streets of the Chicago Southside, wondering if somewhere out there Lip was laughing at him for trying to come up with some sage older brother type advice.

"Let him say it first then?" Carl threw out, his advice sounding more like a question than anything. He figured throwing one more piece of advice at the Ian shaped wall just to see if it would stick wouldn't hurt too bad.

"Or just tell him ya pussy."

Carl was up and racing inside before Ian could touch him, but his brother wasn't far behind him as he took the stairs. Less than a minute later Ian had him in a headlock.

–

“Yeah, that’s it, baby, just like that.” Ian groaned, watching the head of dark hair and straight angled nose bob up and down as Ian's cock disappeared into a mouth cushioned by pink, swollen lips. Svetlana had taken Yevgeny out for ice cream after dinner, giving the men an empty house and plenty of time to fuck. Mickey sucked Ian down deeper, making the redhead groan louder and yank on dark strands. After a few more attempts to deep throat Ian's above average cock Mickey pulled off and smiled up at him.

"Gettin' good."

Ian tugged at his arm, prompting the smaller man to crawl up his body until they were face to face. He looked Mickey in the eye, thumb rubbing along his cheekbone.

"It's always been good, Mick."

Pink dusted Mickey's cheeks, so deep that Ian could see the blush in the low candlelight. He kissed him sweetly, grateful to have him and give him so many new experiences. Speaking of…

"Ready?"

Mickey glanced at the candle, bottom lip disappearing into his mouth for a moment.

"Can I- can I try on you first?"

Ian nodded, trying to remain confident for Mickey's sake, but the fact was Ian hadn't experienced it either and he didn't know what to expect. Still, he didn't want to pressure Mickey.

"Okay, pour it on my back though. Just in case." Mickey raised off of Ian and sat down on his ass once he turned around. Ian turned his head to watch Mickey pick up the lit candle. He watched until it left his field of view and only a dim light remained.

"So I just pour it?" Mickey asked.

"Yeah, but only a little at a time."

"Okay."

Ian held his breath and braced himself for the unknown sensation. It came seconds later, a drip that brought heat to his skin making him hiss, but quickly faded to a dull warmth.

"Okay?"

"Yeah, not too bad. You can do more."

And so Mickey did, dripping in an unknown pattern along his back leaving Ian feeling heated, like he had just spent a summer day outside. It wasn't particularly arousing, but something he had always wanted to try. And now he has. With Mickey.

"Okay, I think I'm ready." Mickey set down the candle and lay next to Ian, backlit by its glow. The words were on the tip of Ian's tongue, begging to be said to the beautiful man beside him, but he swallowed them, feeling then sit in a lump midway down his throat. Ian sat up and looked down at his boyfriend.

"Turning over?" He questioned and Mickey shook his head, a cheeky grin making his eyes crinkle as he stroked himself. Ian smiled and sat on Mickey's upper thighs, lining up their hard ons. He grabbed the candle. Seeing mostly unmelted wax he set down the candle and encircled their dicks with his large hand, setting an indulgent pace that made Mickey's breathing hitch.

"You're so beautiful." Ian told him, pulling Mickey's hands away from his face when he tried to hide from Ian's truth. He was beautiful and Ian loved him. Shaking the unspoken confession from his head he picked up the candle again and tilted it so the wax pooled against the edge.

"Ready?"

Mickey nodded and filled his lungs with air only for the air to be punched out in a low groan as the warm wax splashed onto the center of his chest.

"Feel okay?" Ian asked, hand stilling on their cocks as he waited to make sure his boyfriend was okay to continue.

"Yeah. Feels kinda good."

"Yeah?"

"Fuck yeah."

Ian poured a bit more onto Mickey's chest, his nipples, below his belly button and right above his cock. The wax hardened and broke away from his skin when he arched his back as he came, Ian's release adding to the warmth sinking into Mickey leaving him satisfied.

Ian was gone before Svetlana and Yevgeny came home. They weren't ready for sleepovers just yet, but Ian hoped they happened soon so he could hold Mickey as they fell asleep and whisper I love you against his neck.

But first Ian would have to stop being a pussy and just tell him.

–

Carl yanked open the bathroom door as Ian was stepping out of the show, a towel wrapped around his waist.

"You tell him?"

Ian ignored his younger brother and stood in front of the sink, grabbing his toothbrush and toothpaste. Once he was done Carl gave a cursory shake and tucked himself back into his pants. Turning to leave he took one last look at his pussy of a brother only to let out a squawk of laughter. Ian turned to give him an odd look, toothbrush jammed into his cheek and foamy paste escaping from the corner.

"Looks like he beat you to the punch." Carl pointed at his back before grabbing Ian and turning him around to his back was to the mirror. Ian looked over his shoulder and his jaw dropped, his toothbrush falling with it.

There on his back,reversed and faintly colored like a minor sunburn, were three shaky words once written in wax.

I

Love

You

#gallavich #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #shameless #ian x mickey #chaos writes #gallavich fanfic #ao3 #gallavich kinktober 2022

[ikilledamanforthisurl]

Minami anon x5 YEAH FOR REAL to everything….. The way Majima treats his men is very. Hrm. I saw a good essay about it before regarding how Majima after going through the abuse he's faced only Knows / understands how to project that same sentiment with the most obvious example being Nishida who has almost like a looney tunes esque dynamic with him. And how that later goes on to talk about Majima associating Minami who is extremely clearly trying to emulate him with Sagawa + Shimano which led to like the disconnect in their relationship. Idk if ive tldlred that very well but yeah. It was very Majima centric though which makes me wish it talked abt more how Minami views the situation because again I do very much think it’s just a case of Minami wanted to do Somebody and he ultra latched onto the first person he saw that was That. Very like duckling following the leader. He most likely has no idea what the hell baggage Majima has and just continues viewing this act he's put on in such a glamourised revered light. The Cycle Of hell continues and continues forever. I feel like you could even make an argument Abt the like never wanting to accept defeat thing as another emulation of Majima who like very famously Just Keeps Trucking Along and Never Lets Up. Also so real about the tidbit abt the junior leader like it really just feels like something they made up out of the blue but it’s fine it’s just his now……. I agree that Minami very much does not give me like patriarch vibes I feel like nothing about him screams a person who wants to *the* most important- Its why I word it as like Minami wants to be SOMEBODY, but not the somebody who has all of the responsibilities and the stress that comes with being in the super hardcore major leagues- again, going back, a very sort of Immature or Young person kind of attitude to have. Also okay I thought it was both kinda hilarious and sad How the guys in the karaoke scene didnt want to be there 😭😭😭 really just feels like they were Dragged along because “why not” / because Minami is seemingly more carefree about things. I'd love to see him interact w just like the normal ppl of kamurocho or if he like worked at the construction site with his fellow coworkers like are they immediately put off or find him annoyingly pleasant enough. Idk if i have anythin to say abt it but i also LOVE ur tags and the idea of Minami putting himself through hell willingly to be as strong as majima garghghgghghg….. also its okay if ur actually sick for real like w a cold I hope u get better soon !!! Ironically i also have a minor cold so JWJJDJDEJ

we are so back......... you and me anon... we are both sick in the exact same ways (brainrot included)

I looooove the terrible recycling dynamic of abuse from Majima to his men and that sounds really evil but i mean like. its an extremely interesting and Real Thing to portray (completely on accident!) and explore. and i can't even act like i'd be better if i were him sometimes. i know damn well his boys are incompetent (everyone on earth is) and/or pains in the ass (definitely Aratani, probably Minami, but he dont mean it) and physical violence is part of their way of life in this fictionalised mega-gang. in a twisted way violence is more than just that, it's the solution to everything, it's the crux of everything, it's care for those who need to be able to stick up for themselves to survive and it's also a burden by way of Fighting Game Protagonist Syndrome. at the end of the day the abuse is still abuse, but you see some interesting perspectives with this kind of framework in that world..... including folks who'd enthusiastically participate in the looney-tunes Slapsticked role, like my take on Minami. Nishida too, but i don't think he's enthusiastic, just begrudgingly accepting of things...

i know the EXACT post youre talking about and i completely understand being Majima-focused in these kinds of rants cause he's the one with all the interesting shit going on and yknow. canonical character depth...... i try my best to not get sidetracked but Majima intrigues me as much as the people around him.... they made him and his relationships both fun and fascinating. to keep it Minami ways you'd probably be saying some real no-shit-sherlock shit "wow that's so tragic for him" or you'd get into HC and made up shit territory, like me ^_^ teehee

Speaking of Aratani, i think he's a good example of someone who actually wants the patriarch seat. the pursuit of power is like his whole deal. Gets considerable focus and text(dialogue) acknowledgement. Minami's whole deal is being goofy, he just also so happens to have considerable power both physically and in the yakuza hierarchy..... bullshit as his role may very well be......... and it's only barely noticed. the pros of being a joke i spose. he's treated, and acts, too nonchalant to give me the impression of gunning for the top. with the existence of other Majimagumi men like Aratani to compare, that just exasperates it for me. he wants to be cool, and that's all

and yknow what..... the fun thing is...... is that Majima gets stories told about him. they get told all over. so much so that resident under-rock-dweller Kiryu hears about them. Minami doesn't know shit from fuck about his boss but i bet he eats those stories the fuck up. true or not, Majima's prowess speaks volumes on it's own... he's the Boss for a Reason..... stories get told about people who Matter. he'd totally be all over that. Wanna Be Somebodyism is terminal and it's got him by the balls. too bad he's not destined to be anybody more than a side character in this series!

oh well..... that's what i'm here for. side characters come get your heads smacked hands kissed and existence acknowledged, possibly all three if you're silly enough

#ikildaman shut the fuck up #sorry i dint get to this for a couple days! #i knew itd be long i needed a little recharge #and i knew that if i opened this and read it i wouldnt be able to control myself id sit down for at least twenty minutes making a response #anon youve double convinced me. is there a word for being convinced of something you already believe #anyway youve convinced me hes soooooo got rockstar wannabe syndrome #i wanna be some-body 🎵🎵🎵 be somebody soon!!!! 🎵🎵🎵 #speaking of WASP half of my minami writing is based on their song Arena of Pleasure #one of the lines from that is so minami..... is also my display name cause felt..... #that's homework for folks at home who are metalt inclined....... #i said somewhere months ago about making a Minami playlist and i need to get on that

[ac-liveblogs]

Gotham Knights is... well, it’s a janky game that naturally draws comparison to the much sleeker Arkham series, and it was always going to. The writing though. It’s not like. Bad. It’s just boring. I get the sense the game is always taking the easiest and least controversial way out. I think I’m about halfway through and I don’t expect that to change.

The plot is... boring. It has elements of Battle for the Cowl and Batman Reborn mashed in with the Court of Owls, which sounds like a winning combination, but all the messiness of the reset status quo in Batman Reborn has been traded in for... I don’t know, wholesome familial bonding?

And sure, if you’re into that, whatever, but personally the idea of Dick, Jason, Tim & Babs taking it in turns to play therapist to another member of the party for 1 minute at a time while all interpersonal conflict is shallow and resolves in about half that time is boring as sin. Bruce died, where’s the drama? You really want me to like that Jason had his whole character arc off-screen? The same character arc the damn comics also put off-panel until Urban Legends fucked it up??? 

The same character arc that flies in the face of what makes him an interesting character in the first place??

I liked the new status quo in Batman Reborn, Jason’s......................... um, writing choices aside. And it would’ve been cool to revisit here! Gotham as a battleground for Dick & Jason’s warring ideo- and methodologies, their unresolved issues with Bruce taken out on each other by proxy, and the two needing to resolve their differences in the face of a new, more dangerous villain - one Bruce couldn’t even discover, let alone defeat - sounds fucking cool. Assuming one cuts Jason loose from. Again. Morrison’s questionable writing choices. If he’s going to be here, and he has to be part of the main cast, you... might as well leverage the characterisation that makes him unique? 

Babs as Batgirl is a downgrade and Tim is unfortunately once again suffering from off-screen boyfriend syndrome. And. You know. It’s so great to see him coping with loss so well, he’s historically been so great at that. I don’t love the way the game frames Batman as a mentor figure that still has wisdom to impart to Nightwing, Batgirl & Red Hood when at this point in their careers they have well outgrown him - especially a Dick in Bludhaven, or a Barbara post-Oracle. That said, this game is expecting to net the Arkham crowd, so what do you expect.

Having the character routes essentially be the same events in a slightly different font depending on which character you pick is not to this game’s benefit. No-one feels like they bring any unique skills, connections or opinions to the table, so I think I probably would’ve preferred a Nightwing-centric story that got to delve into his psyche a little more.

The Court of Owls is not handled as well as in the comics - I’ve never felt intimidated by them in-game the way the comics could, and it doesn’t help that the League of Assassins shows up to make them look like chumps well before the first speaking, intelligent and mildly challenging Talon shows up. I feel they weren’t leveraged to their full potential, to say nothing of the entire can of worms that comes with making Jacob Kane, a Jewish man, the leader of the secret cabal of elites running Gotham from the shadows.

I understand the pragmatic need to streamline the Court’s membership - William Cobb and Lincoln March are also absent - to keep things simpler, things got a bit.... lol in the comics but given Batwoman isn’t even in this game it’s an extremely bad call. I wonder if they’d wanted to link the Court to the existing cast if Tim’s parents trying to get in the Court’s good graces wouldn’t have been a good entry point for him?

I like Talia so far. I assume Bruce is alive or soon will be given the emphasis on Lazarus Pits so far, especially via Jason, and Ra’s will certainly return. I like the email chains. There’s some funny stuff in there. 

I can live with the janky gameplay, though stealth doesn’t feel as viable an option as it did in Arkham (enemies are considerably less dangerous as a trade-off) and platforming can be a problem. I don’t appreciate bosses that required strategy in Arkham, like Mr Freeze, turning into slogs just to whittle down HP - that’s not fun. My main point of ire is that I’m forced into Tim’s route because he’s the only character I have no control issues with. Jason is damn near unplayable (setting aside why they made him a goddamn tank? What about any of his fights made anyone think he was a slow and mostly landlocked? I get wanting to make the bats unique, but... come on, he had a blueprint in Arkham Knight), Nightwing has ups and downs and Babs is... okay? Tim is the only one that feels slightly polished. 

The game looks fine and the basics are there, it just... feels like it was released too early. Tale as old as videogames. So I’m not marking it down toooo much. I can be lenient! Sometimes. 

So far this game is a solid. Like. 5/10. We’ll see if that improves. 

#ac plays gotham knights

[demcnsinmymind]

Random downer headcanon time!

I headcanon that there is no ‘happy’ ending for Lance post canon, no matter how you spin it. And isn’t that funny because I lost my shit when they didn’t give him a ‘happy ending’ in the second movie, because I do believe he deserves it. But when you really start thinking it through, there’s just no real winning this for him.

Sure enough, I headcanon that he killed Friedkin aka his abuser and burned Collingwood to the ground, that he got out of there and beat the game. That could be considered a happy ending in a ‘traditional’ sense, but my definition of a happy ending for him specifically is something else - it’s one where he’s truly at peace with himself, happy and content, facing a future he’s excited about and happy with. I don’t think he can get that and that there is a winning scenario, simply because he has so many interesting and contradicting character traits and especially because he is not a hero and neither is he a villain. There’s like, two main scenarios that could be considered a ‘happy ending’ for him, but both don’t really work.

 Scenario 1 - he somehow gets rid of Azathoth, is no longer possessed while still being himself and not falling victim to his brain trauma. And in an ideal world, he manages to heal and recover from the psychological trauma, reintegrates himself into the real world and its society, maybe even gets back to being a filmmaker. Basically a second chance. ---- I don’t think he’d be happy in this scenario. I headcanon that he’ll try a lot harder to be a better person. To do good, use this second chance. At the same time, he’s still a flawed character. He won’t ever be a true hero. He won’t ever be 100% selfless. He fought to hard for his life to now stop thinking about himself. Eventually, he’d be bored. He’d feel like something’s missing. He’d feel ‘average’, maybe even less than. For a while, he traveled through time and was possessed by a demonic outer god. He faced demons and ghosts and defeated a hell dimension that defied physics - and now he’s back to his old life? Back to a ‘normal’ job, no matter how exciting and creative he’d make it as a filmmaker? He still has protagonist syndrome. And people kept telling him he was ‘the chosen one’, that he was special. There is no way in hell he’d go back to his old life in a linear timeline to having a job and worrying about money and taxes and whatnot. Even if he started traveling, made even crazier shows, went on adventures...he wouldn’t be happy. He wouldn’t be satisfied. I headcanon he’d start to miss Azathoth, miss being possessed and having powers. After years of neverending trauma, fear, and leaving off of his survival instinct in its purest form...he doesn’t know how to deal with a comfortable, carefree and safe life anymore. And to top it all of - a part of him, survivor’s guilt mostly, truly believes that he doesn’t deserve this, especially in comparison to all the people he got killed. In a way, being possessed and tormented by Azathoth is his way of thinking that he’s atoning for his mistakes. And Azathoth and what he experienced with it is still a huge point. Sure, I could see him maybe try to become an actual ghost hunter. Or a hunter. Because after everything he went through, he loathes monsters. At the same time, a part of him’ll always sympathize with them, too. Consider himself one, and he’s just done with blood and guts and killing and running running running - from cops or other hunters or monsters and what not. So I can’t see him as a hunter in this scenario either. Scenario 2 - he doesn’t get rid of Azathoth, he fully embraces their symbiosis, he lets it corrupt him, he embraces the powers it gives him and everything Friedkin and his cult wanted to raise with him. Deep down, this’d actually be the more comfortable ‘happy ending’ for him. He’d get to live out his protagonist syndrome and being ever so ‘special’. He would be elevated past his previous life, which, no matter how much he wanted to get back to and missed - he knows he won’t ever really fit in anymore. I don’t think that’s a happy ending for him either. Because he’s not a villain character. He has good traits to him. He has a moral code, no matter how scewed. There is a line he won’t cross. Or that he’ll break apart over if he were forced to. (see canon)

Deep down, in this scenario, a part of him would always feel like he actually lost. Like, he gave up, that Friedkin, Collingwood, Azathoth won in the end, something he’s spent years fiercely fighting against. I headcanon that this is the most important thing for him - holding his head high and saying that he’ll always keep going, always keep fighting, that no matter what they do and try, he won’t be broken, he’ll always be himself, he’ll win. However, if he fully embraces Azathoth and what they are - he won’t be himself anymore. He’ll be a distorted version of himself. Something Friedkin wanted. Something a part of him still despises - being a monster himself. Someone who has killed and will keep killing to keep himself alive. In a way, he’ll be dead. All in all, he’s just constantly torn between all those traits and wishes. He wants to go home and forget everything ever happened, but miss it the second he gets that. He’ll try his hardest to tell everyone that Friedkin and Collingwood DIDN’T win, didn’t break him, yet will be desperate to keep the very thing they forced onto him inside. He’ll never truly be happy or at peace, he’ll always be running and chasing, he’ll always keep walking, wandering. One thing IS certain though - he’ll survive. He’ll be alive. He’ll keep fighting. He’ll keep trying, even though he honestly doesn’t even know what he’s aiming for anymore.

#text post #headcanons #hc : psyche #hc : paranormal #hc : azathoth

[burningexeter]

As an aspiring writer and filmmaker, what are the connections or "themes" that my work has and share with each other. It's actually much more simple on my end with this:

• They tend to always focus on unconventional type of protagonists fighting against the highest stakes there is. But despite that sounding fairly interesting for a simple paragraph, there's much more to it than that. First off, the protagonists or even the ensembles are not at all the type of characters you'd ever expect or think of being the heroes. They're the bullies, criminals, blue collar workers, CDC doctors, rat exterminators, cynical schlubs, elderly grandfathers or grandmothers, spoiled brats, cheerleaders, truck drivers, shady and sleazy private detectives, sarcastic grumps, priests, former deadbeat parents trying to put their lives back together, the sexy but quick-tempered goth girl, drug dealers, cartel members, morticians, dysfunctional families, the town drunk, struggling drug addicts or even a little girl with a burnt scar on the side of her face. These are all no matter what the numerous type of people who you don't usually see as the heroic characters who save the day. These aren't the strong jawed, posing, good-looking Hollywood heroes like Superman, the Guardians Of The Galaxy, Optimus Prime, Luke Skywalker or Wonder Woman — god no, instead these are heroes in the exact same category as Jack Sparrow from the Pirates Of The Caribbean Trilogy, Walter White from Breaking Bad, Koichi Shikishima from Godzilla Minus One, Aldo Raine from Inglourious Basterds and Trevor Philips from Grand Theft Auto V.

That said however, all of the protagonists do grow, develop and even at times become better people over the course of the story. Most of them all have moral codes (standards basically) and always end up doing the right thing.

As for the stakes, these aren't just the odds. These are big. Big stakes that affect them and even everything and everyone they've ever loved or cared about. The stakes in my work are always - and I mean ALWAYS - huge. And no, it's not "Oh, it's the end of the world and the final battle is in New York City" but they are big, deadly, dangerous, high-edge stakes.

• Another thing is that the events of any of my work are either caused, furthered or BOTH by the protagonists and characters' actions and thus are more than character-driven. They make HUGE decisions, they even sometimes depending on which or who make the wrong choices, they don't do what they should've done and regardless of whether what they did was right, all of this leads to repercussions that build and culminate to the climax and end.

• The villains are never these one dimensional, generic, mustache-twirling villains who are just 100% evil all the way. Instead, the villains are intimidating, scary, charismatic, intelligent, threatening and even at times tragic characters. The ones who are tragic show it through moments and go out on their own sacrificial terms while the ones who aren't tragic have codes to them and make their presence known whenever they're on screen. We're not talking about again strong jawed, posing, good-looking Hollywood villains like Loki, Lex Luthor, Doctor Doom, Evelyn Deavor (good lord, that pun name is just dumb as hell) or Hans of the Southern Isles — nah, god no, instead these are the villains in the exact same category as Jared Nomak from Blade II, Dr. Otto Octavius/Doctor Octopus from Spider-Man 2, Davy Jones from Pirates Of The Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest & At World's End, Syndrome from The Incredibles and Dr. Thaddeus Sivana from Shazam!.

• Last but not least, all of my work have genuinely bittersweet endings where the villain or villains and threat are defeated for good with no chance of coming back but sacrifices are made on the heroes side therefore they don't always end very happily. It shows us that not everything has a happy ending regardless of what it is.

Here's an example:

I have this whole entire, fully fleshed-out idea for a Kim Possible reboot called Global Justice and this is how it'll end:

After Kim and Shego have a heated argument about the former's future now that she's about to graduate high school, Shego realizes that she was wrong and that her reasons for not letting Kim go are selfish of her. But when she goes to apologize to Kim and admit her mistake, she shockingly finds that Kim has gone behind her back and done something that sets in motion the events of the series finale.

The bittersweet ending here is that the main threat that's been built up since the ending of the five-part premiere is finally defeated, all heroes come together and the day is at long last saved with the surviving villains being put to rest.... BUT due to everything that's just happened because of her, Shego has lost all trust in Kim that's been built and earned throughout the whole series with the final scene in the show being this —

Flying through the night sky over a now safe Middleton in their purple car as a full-on homage to the final moment in the original series, Kim in the front seat and Shego driving are sitting in complete silence with their hair blowing in the wind. It's then that a guilty and almost somber Kim says "I'm sorry, Shego. For everything".

To which Shego replies with this....

"I know you are, Kim. You're my girlfriend and nothing will ever change that. I brought you into all this from day one and nothing will ever change that. I will always love you no matter what and nothing will ever change that. But after everything that's just happened, from now until I don't know when, my trust is something that you're gonna have to earn back".

Kim then hangs her head down in shame, visibly heartbroken, while Shego continues driving emotionlessly into the moon.

Cue end credits.

Kim ended up fulfilling her goal in the show but at the cost of a loved one's trust. And it's Shego of all people.

#screenwriting #storytelling #filmmaking #influences #character #endings

[elevateherja]

The Power of Self-Love: why it’s essential for our well-being

Welcome back, beautiful souls! Today, we are diving headfirst into a topic that deserves every bit of our attention: The Power of Self-Love. This topic has often taken a backseat in our fast-paced lives. In a world where we constantly strive for success, chase external validation, and compare ourselves to others on social media, it’s easy to forget the most important relationship we have – the one with ourselves. It’s time to adorn ourselves with a crown that shines with authenticity, resilience, and unwavering self-worth that radiates through the prism of black womanhood and embodies the true essence of self-love. So, grab a seat on your throne, and let’s explore the enchanting realm of self-love and why it’s essential for our well-being as black women or women of all colors.

Embrace your inner unicorn!

Picture this: you, as a majestic unicorn, galloping through a mystical forest, radiating pure self-love and confidence. Sounds pretty enchanting, right? Well, that’s the magic of self-love! When you embrace your unique qualities, quirks, and imperfections, you transform into that radiant unicorn, effortlessly captivating the world around you.

Defining Self-Love: The Super Serum for Your Soul

Ah, let’s demystify this concept of self-love. It’s not just about treating yourself to bubble baths and spa days (although those are pretty awesome too!). Self-love goes way deeper than that. It’s a deep-rooted appreciation for your whole being, flaws and all. We’re talking about respecting yourself on a soul level, baby!

Ditch the Mask: Self-Love vs. Selfishness

Time to unmask the truth! Some people mistake self-love for selfishness, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Self-love isn’t about being a self-absorbed egomaniac. It’s about filling up your own cup, so you have an overflowing abundance of love to share with others. It’s like the oxygen mask on an airplane—you secure yours first, so you can be there for others. Boom!

Sidekick Conundrum: Self-Love vs. Self-Centeredness

Okay, here’s another tricky one. Ever felt guilty about putting yourself first? Fear not, for self-love is often misunderstood as being self-centered. But let me set the record straight. Self-love isn’t about being all “me, me, me” and disregarding everyone else. It’s about recognizing your worth and valuing yourself enough to set healthy boundaries and prioritize your well-being. It’s like being the CEO of your own life while still being a compassionate and caring hero for others.

Power-Up: Super Techniques for Self-Love

Now that we’ve got the definitions straight, let’s dive into the juicy stuff. I’m talking about practical techniques that will unleash your self-love superpowers. From daily affirmations that boost your confidence to gratitude practices that shift your perspective, we’re going to equip you with an arsenal of tools that’ll rock your world. Get ready to level up, my friend!

Facing the Arch-Nemesis: Defeating Inner Villains

Every superhero has their arch-nemesis, and the journey of self-love is no different. We’ll face those sneaky inner villains that try to bring us down—negative self-talk, self-doubt, and the dreaded comparison syndrome. But fear not, my trusty sidekick! We’ll arm you with strategies and techniques to conquer these foes and emerge as the victorious hero of self-love.

Banish the Comparison Trap

Ah, the dreaded comparison trap, the thief of joy! It’s high time we kick it to the curb. Remember, no two journeys are the same. Here’s the deal: comparing yourself to others is like comparing apples to oranges. Each one of us has a unique path to follow. Instead of comparing yourself to others, celebrate your own accomplishments and progress. Give yourself a round of applause for being you – an extraordinary, one-of-a-kind you!

Love Yourself: Mind, Body, and Spirit

Self-love is the secret sauce to living a fulfilling and joyful life. Self-love isn’t just about accepting yourself; it’s about nourishing your mind, body, and spirit. Treat yourself to some quality “me-time” by engaging in activities that bring you joy. Whether it’s curling up with a good book, dancing like nobody’s watching, or enjoying a soothing bubble bath – do whatever fills your cup and replenishes your soul. Remember, you deserve it!

Your Inner Cheerleader

Imagine having a personal cheerleader who believes in you unconditionally, supports your dreams, and cheers you on every step of the way. Well, guess what? That cheerleader is YOU! Cultivating self-love means being your own biggest fan. Celebrate your victories, no matter how small, and offer yourself words of encouragement during challenging times. You’ll be amazed at how this internal support system boosts your resilience and confidence.

Assemble Your League: Building a Supportive Network

No superhero can go it alone, right? That’s why it’s time to assemble your league of extraordinary friends. Surround yourself with like-minded souls who lift you up, cheer you on, and remind you of your superpowers. Together, you’ll create a supportive network that celebrates each other’s wins and picks each other up when times get tough. We’re in this together, my awesome friend!

Boundaries: Your Superpower

Setting healthy boundaries is like wearing a superhero cape. It shields you from negative influences and preserves your emotional well-being. Learn to say “no” when you need to and prioritize your own needs. Remember, you are the author of your story, and you have the power to determine how it unfolds. So, put on that cape and soar!

Embracing Imperfections

Perfectionism, beware! Self-love is all about embracing imperfections. Let’s face it – nobody is flawless, and that’s what makes us beautifully human. Celebrate your quirks, embrace your mistakes as valuable lessons, and allow yourself to grow and evolve. Remember, the most captivating stories are the ones with unexpected plot twists and imperfect characters.

The Grand Finale: Embrace Your Super Identity

It’s time for the grand finale, where you’ll embrace your true super identity. Tap into your creative side and find unique ways to express yourself—a form of self-love in itself. Whether you paint, write, dance, or rock out to your favorite tunes, let your inner hero shine bright. Embrace the quirks, embrace the uniqueness, and let the world see the incredible superhero that you truly are!

Conclusion

So, let’s make a pact, shall we? Let’s banish the comparison trap and embrace our uniqueness. Remember, you’re a shining star in your own right, with a path that’s entirely your own. Celebrate your accomplishments, cherish your journey, and let your light shine bright. You’re incredible just the way you are, my friend. So go out there and rock it!

#black femininity #femininity #self love #sisterhood #resilience

[peipapicoz]

As someone who loves Rune Factory I of course had to try out Harvestella Demo, and i have a few thoughts:

-Is memory lost a key element of farming sim with combat system 😂😂😂

-Environment is beautiful, A++

-Intriguing story. I am curious to see how it will develop.

-Unique characters shown so far is good, however the in game model are honestly blurry, especially their faces. I understand that its an art style thing to have more realistically proportionate face but the face really just get reduced to 3 dots unless the camera is right up against them. And also I am seeing same face syndrome across all the young characters.

-Manual saving is only accessible at about at least 2 hours in game which is...annoying. I was even skipping all the combat parts and pretty much just running from plot area to plot area, and yet it still took this long.

-I feel like the time pace is ok HOWEVER. the game forces us to sleep upon midnight. Everytime it turns to night the game just keep telling us to go home. My first time losing in game was actually because I wasn't paying attention to time and my character just collapsed in the middle of fighting. It also doesn't help that the map is big and there isn't many fast travel point. Most of the time spent in game is actually just running across maps.

-Now, I acknowledge the very fact that I don't really play any combat game, that I have no right to say how a combat system should be. The only games I played that have any sort of combat system is the rune factory series and sakuna , which have very simple combat system. BUT being only able to switch being a physical attacker to a magic attacker etc at save point, which is only at the beginning of each map, is very troublesome . This also pretty much locks us into using only 1 type of attack during a fight. Hopefully this will be changed in full version when we get higher level?

-We only get to see experience gain and level increase upon going to sleep. Maybe this is a common system in combat game idk but I find this system to be halting our progress. The short time we get everyday definitely doesn't help.

-maybe there will be more importance of farming in the full game but so far farming is really just here for us to earn money. It doesn't really have any significant presence so far.

____________

So far I had reach the limit of the demo which is reaching 15th day in game(, or completing chapter 2 if you managed to defeat that boss before this 15 days mark.) I know that it seems that I have more complaints than praises but I actually did enjoy it so far. It has lots of potential. I will wait for even more review after the game's actual release to determine if I want to buy it.

#Harvestella #And also Square Enix where are the pretty boys the only young dude we get to meet in this demo is way too young #Give us the ikemen 😂 #.... All the rest is going to be a rant #Can people fucking stop comparing rf to this game #Do you guys even realise how small marvelous is compared to square enix #also if you didn't buy rf5 you have no goddamn right to complaint about the graphic or performance issue when you didn't even play the game #You just judged the game from trailers which is compressed multiple time and you think that's a fair judgement?!??? #And you didn't even pay money to the studio what makes you think you have the right to complaint so shut your mouth #Rf5 is stylized and shouldn't be compared to game to huge studio that make realistic game #If you live your life just complaining about things you didn't pay for then I seriously feel sorry for you #Games aren't just either 0 or 100 #Learn to enjoy anything that is below 100 and go have a happier life

[lavishedinjimin]

Criminal!jk x officer!reader ,,,, with handcuffs

This drabble is not suitable for everyone. Please do not read if you are not comfortable with any of the warnings stated below.

Warnings: dom!jk x sub!OC, Stockholm syndrome so kidnapped, mentions of attempted murder, manipulation.

Reminding everyone that all of this is pure imagination – nothing is real. :)

~

It's funny because Jungkook doesn't take these seriously. He loves what he does, and if he gets caught for the crimes he commits, the better. All the adrenaline he feels is his euphoria.

He sees life as a game, and laws are just challenges for him to defeat and defy.

Jeon Jungkook, aside from being the most hunted detrimental criminal, was just a huge rebel without a cause.

Jungkook has done this procedure many times before; he gets cuffed, taken to the police, into the cold, gloomy investigation room he goes where he either gets interrogated by an exhausted, bald man or a milf. There was no one in between.

Jungkook gets startled when the metal door flies open as you walk into the room, dropping the pile of papers down on the desk.

"Oh, wow," Jungkook smirks, eyeing you up and down, not expecting that someone like you would come in. "That's a snack right there."

"Good day, Mr. Jeon," you keep your professionalism intact, ignoring his defiant statement. Sitting down on the chair, you decide to be as straightforward as possible. "Ten counts of attempted homicide in the Maldives, running off to South Korea, then finally being caught here in my country. How you weren't caught after all your time of running, that's impressive."

Jungkook rests his arms on the steel table, eyes turning into little slits, "Impressive? Look at you, already being swayed by me." He takes a good look at you, dressed so formally. There's an itching feeling in him that tells him to just rip your uniform all apart.

"Why aren't you denying that you were the one behind those attempted murders?" You raise a brow at him, watching that egotistical expression on his face suddenly turns serious.

"Because I was caught red-handed in the Maldives," he says a matter-of-factly, "Maybe if I did kill those people, then that's when I'd start begging for your sympathy, ma'am." Jungkook says in a mocking, burlesquing manner, "You're a lucky girl, officer. I'm making your job easier."

"You're going to spend the rest of your life in prison, fool," you threaten him, using an authoritative tone as Jungkook examines your every move. "This is going to be the end of your games, Jeon Jungkook. I know who you are. I know what you do." You kick your chair back, standing up, and slowly circling the area where he sits. The single lightbulb in the room was the only thing that illuminated the space, creating an eerie atmosphere.

"We've heard about your escapes – all your little tips and tricks. Tell me, Jeon," you stay put on his side, looking down at him, "What kind of stunt will you pull off now, huh?"

He was silent for a couple of seconds. You take a couple of steps back, concealing the way you feel threatened by his intimidating gaze, you await an answer.

But as if on cue, the electricity shuts down, and all the lights cut off.

As complete darkness suffocates the two of you, Jungkook wastes no time to hold your wrists together in his hand, standing up. He grunts, fighting you until he steals the handcuffs that were attached around your belt. Gunshots, screams, and people running all over the place can be heard from outside.

He laughs devilishly as his strategy to escape was all going according to plan. Jungkook easily cuffs your wrists together as you were no match for his powerful build.

"You're mine now," he growls, "you're coming with me."

~

Jungkook not only had the most wicked mind, but he knows how to manipulate. Not that it was something he had to learn, but it naturally dawned on him. After all the bullshit he has gone through his life, manipulating you into submitting for him was easy.

At a cheap, discreet inn is where you both stayed. Jungkook had you laying down on the bed, almost half naked with only your panties left to be removed by him.

"Aren't you ashamed of yourself?" Jungkook jerks his head up, staring at you like you were his prey, "Being such a good and obedient submissive for me?"

He feels his heartstrings being pulled when you release an adorable 'yes'.

"Ohh, sweetie," he mocks, gripping your chin, "you're so fucking cute. I love how each day you become more soft and amenable. No more of that tough exterior you try so hard to put out, huh?" Jungkook comes closer to you, closing his eyes so that he can kiss your tender lips passionately. His hands hold onto your face. He loves the way you slightly moan and whimper against the kiss. Your mouths dance together in harmony, with each second passing you both feel more aroused and needy for touch.

Jungkook, after pulling away to allow you to catch your breath, bites down on your lower lip. This single motion made you feel goosebumps and shivers running down your spine.

"Now that you're with me, you can let go of all that power and authority in you. You finally don't have to be so serious all the time!" Jungkook exclaims as his hand roams down your sides, "Let me take control from now on, got that? You're safe and sound with me. No one will find us here."

You whimper when Jungkook leaves the bed, turning his back on you to get something. Your mouth waters from his muscular, athletic figure, only wearing tight black boxers that fit perfectly around his thighs and crotch area.

Jungkook, with a smirk, comes back with handcuffs. The same ones that you were supposed to use on him the day he was being interrogated.

"Recognize these?" he chuckles, crawling back over to you, "oh, how the tables have turned, baby girl."

"Jungkook, please, I want you so bad."

Jungkook sticks his bottom lip out, "Aw, I'll give you what you want, baby girl, I promise. Your dom doesn't have those cute, fluffy handcuffs that are made specifically for sex, but these are better in my opinion. They look more fucking legit."

Jungkook pulls his boxers down impatiently, his rock-hard cock springing up and in dying need of friction. You stare at it for a couple of seconds, your walls clenching, aching for his cock so bad.

He grabs each of your wrists and traps them onto the steel bands, tightening them just enough so that you can feel it graze against your skin. "And besides, isn't it more fun if there's a little pain?"

#bts kinky hours open #jungkook smut #dom jungkook