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#WHY DO YALL CHOOSE TO IGNORE THAT
vestboyfriends · 2 years
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"you can't headcanon eddie as gay bc joseph quinn said he would have loved for eddie to find a nice girl if he lived!" bold of you to assume that what actors say about the characters they play is 1, canon, 2, not completely random at times and 3, impactful on the way i myself view those specific characters
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ronithesnail · 1 year
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People really be like “uwu look at these quirky trans people born in the wrong bodies owo what a quirky lifestyle lol” like no bitch im in so much pain rn that i cant fucking get out of bed and my spine is so fucked up from slouching in order to cope with the dysphoria and ive been binding so much that its causing severe chest and stomach pains and I STILL KEEP DOING IT BECAUSE ITS GENUINELY BETTER THAN THE ALTERNATIVE
“Being born in the wrong body” is a fucking dehibilitating condition and i desperately need medical treatment for it.
#im not saying that being trans is a disorder or something#i do like being trans imean i wouldnt be the same person if i wasnt trans#but i just think that people need to realize that this isnt a fun or easy thing this shit is mentally emotionally and physically painful#and causes so many problems like omygod if i wasnt such an optimist i would be dead so long ago#being “born in the wrong body” or whatever is a lot more painful than just being mildly uncomfortable with social norms#For me at least#others are different and thats valid#But like#i can’t go to the fucking grocery store because of this dysphoria its just too much#trans is not a disorder…#but imean… some of yall would benefit from that kind of view#like any disorder- treatment needs differ from person to person#for some people its as simple as acknowledgement and some mild accommodations#meanwhile others may be in such high risk that they need surgery and prescription drug therapy#neither is more valid than the other#we all have needs that need to be respected and treated if we are to ever live healthy happy lives#why are yall so obsessed with mistreating people who are already in pain like fr first ableism now this shit#When you force your trans kids into clothes that make them dysphoric you’re not disiplining a bratty punk or protecting them from anything#You are not only ignoring an “accommodation” that your child needs to live a normal healthy happy life#But you are also adding to the pain of an already painful experience. You are choosing to amplify the sufferring and the limitations caused#Jesus chrsit im so tired my body hurts so much rn#I wrote this a while ago actually but i had it saved in my drafts and completely forgot about it
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shotmrmiller · 5 months
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I'm your only situationship.
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A/N : yall i stayed up til 324 am writing this. I felt like if i went to bed still only having it as a thought and not on 'paper' thats unacceptable. If i gotta think about this then so do yall! it was also supposed to be a small one shot but it got wildly out of hand im not sorry.
18+ MDNI
TW: typical smut, EXPLICIT mmkay im talkin clutch ur pearls explicit.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Simon had finally come home from a grueling 6-month mission. All he wanted was some Kentucky bourbon with you at your favorite seedy bar. 
Once he was home, Simon cleaned up, put on a black clinical mask, and sent a text to you to meet him there. As he finished his first glass of the night, a rather attractive young woman approached him, asking if she could buy him a drink. 
“Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around, lovie?”
“Not at all. This is after all the 21st century. I’m simply asking— wouldn’t want any missus at home getting upset.”
“There’s no one at home for me, lass.”
“Well then, how about you get yourself another glass, my treat, and we’ll see where this night takes us?” 
He slightly nodded —he’d never say no to a free drink— and as she left to order a drink, he took his phone out to text you again.
“C’mon, pet. I’ll cover the tab. Too good f’me, now?”
His phone vibrated a minute later.
“I can’t today, Si.”
“Why not? I know you don’t go out on Sundays.”
As the young woman came back, drinks in hand, he lifted the screen to read your response.
“I’ve got a dick appointment~ It’s been a year and then some and I’m gonna claw at my walls if I don’t get a fix ASAP.”
Simon goes tense— soft blues hardening to a silver and he’s gripping his phone so hard it might crack. He pulls up your contact and calls you within seconds.
“Hiya, Si!” 
“What the fuck is a dick appointment?”
“Oh,” you giggle. “I forget you older folk don’t know ‘bout that. It’s just a one-night fling. No commitments or nothin'.’ Exactly what I need right now.” You don’t tell him that the reason you’ve practically regrown your hymen is that when you’re best friends with Simon, every other male in existence pales in comparison. 
“Anyway Si-, he’s getting here in like an hour-”
“No.” And hangs up. 
The young woman who’s casually rubbing his bicep and shoulder gets practically flung off of him, as he gets up off the bar stool so fast it’s falling back with a loud clang, and he’s yanking his leather jacket on and pulling on his leather gloves so hard they’re about to become fingerless—
“Hey! I thought you didn’t have a girlfriend?!”
One gloved hand gripping the front door, he turns his head slightly to her and says, “Pet, with how good I’m gonna fuck her, she won’t even have to ask to know she’s mine.”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
You’re standing in the bathroom with your liquid eyeliner in one hand and phone in the other, staring at the ended call screen. ‘Weird,’ you think, then shrug and put the phone down. ‘Maybe the call got dropped.’
You finally complete the look with your false lashes when there’s a very hard knock on your door. You frown as you look at your phone screen. ‘7:14 pm’. You know the guy said at 8 and you’re in one of Simon’s big shirts he always forgets and your hair is still tied up in an oversized pink and white polka dot scrunchie— The pink leopard print booty shorts you’ve got on will suffice. 
The second time there’s a knock it’s even louder. 
“Jesus Christ, I’m coming!” 
You open the door and say, “I’m sorry I took so long, I—”
Simon flies past you, with a rough shoulder bump and you turn to look at him and he’s almost sprinting to the bedroom, slamming the door open—
“Simon, what the fuck? What’re you doin—”
“Where is he?”, he snarls.
“Who?! Are you talking about my date? He’s not getting here til 8! And why’re you slamming doors in my apartment like you pay my rent?!”
You see Simon deflate immediately at the important part of your answer and chooses to ignore the rest as he takes off his jacket and walks to your hall closet to hang it. Closing your door and locking it, you growl out,
“You need to leave. I haven’t even finished getting ready. I promise I’ll—”
“No, pet.”
“Will you quit interrupting me! Simon, I swear—”
“Pet.” 
You’re holding a scream behind your teeth, about to rip the hair out of your scalp when you see Simon take one loop of his mask off from around his ear and then the other. You gape. You’ve seen Simon without his mask— that isn’t the reason you can no longer find your voice. It’s the way he put his gloved middle finger in between his teeth and pulled it off so sensually. You can feel your cheeks and ears radiate heat from just seeing the tip of his pink tongue. Christ, you’re down horrendously.
You open your mouth to say something, anything, to distract yourself from the fact that you’re getting wet over an interaction so chaste when Simon is touching your ass, giving it a hard squeeze, before moving down to the back of your thighs and lifting you up. You startle at the movement and throw your arms around his neck out of habit, hoping he won’t drop you in the move to your bedroom.
He presses you against the wall with his hips, then grabs both of your ankles from behind his lower back and hooks the back of your knees over his forearms. Simon noses your jaw and starts grinding his clothed erection deliciously hard over the definitely wet spot on your shorts and growls out, 
“If you think,” grind “that I’m gonna allow My,” grind “Girl,”  grind—and you whimper in his ear,  “get fucked by some little cock two pump chump,” he gives a forced chuckle, “you must be daft, pet. Or maybe you’re doing it on purpose, eh? Trying to get my attention? Well, you’ve got it now. “ 
He moves his face to hover his lips over yours— you can lightly smell the bourbon he drank earlier— and he whispers, “You ever like this and I’m around, you come to me. And if I’m away, you wait for me like a good girl and when I come back I’ll give this,” he taps your pussy over your shorts, “greedy little cunt all the cock it can take.”
With a shaky breath, you nod before he kisses you, his bourbon-flavored tongue curling against yours, and you’re moaning into it because you’ve wanted this for too long and he’s finally touching you. Curling your fingers into his ash-brown hair, you move your mouth to his neck, to the right of his adam’s apple, took a bit of skin between your teeth and sucked. 
Simon hisses, dips his fingertips into your flesh hard enough to bruise, and all but yanks you off the wall to toss you onto your bed. 
You yelp as you bounce from the force of his throw— you’re still bouncing on the bed when Simon grabs the waistband of your shorts and knickers to pull right off, which you’re grateful for because the grey knickers you got on aren’t what anyone would wear for a first, second nor third impression.
Simon grabs both of the back of your knees with one hand,  goddamn bear paws, you think, before you feel his tongue in between your lips— so warm and wet and fuck, you needed this, needed him— and he flicks his tongue up and down on your clit. He sticks his long middle finger into you and it goes in without resistance, you’re slippery, drooling over his wrist and finger that’s curled up into the rough patch of nerves against your gummy walls, that he’s pressing into, over and over. God you’re about to come, your legs shake in his one-handed hold and you’ve got a white knuckle grip on the forearm you’re sinking your nails into—
Simon pulls away. You were so close, your eyes start watering because he can’t possibly be this mean to you but then you see him shove his tongue in between his middle and ring finger, eating up your nectar when he says, “The first time I’m gonna make you come, it’ll be on my cock. I want to see the frothy white cream you're gonna leave at the base.” 
You’re nodding hysterically at this point, anything for him to make you come, anything for him.  With a twirl of his index, he’s telling you to get on all fours. Scrambling, you turn over and arch your back— resting your head on your forearms— and you feel his calloused palms run down from your spine to your ass cheeks before he gives it a spank. 
“You have a condom?” 
You shake your head and you mewl out, “No, but I’m clean.”
“Good. I don’t want anything between us.”
You arch your back further, pressing your ass further into his hips when you hear his belt buckle clank and zipper open. Simon brings his palm to your other cheek, reddening it. 
“Fuckin’ hell, pet. Look at you spread out for me.” 
You feel warm velvet over steel over your slit before he slowly pushes inside, not all the way but about a little over half of his length, remembering that your g-spot is a little closer to the front. Fast, relatively shallow thrusts hitting your spot with almost clinical precision have you reeling, your orgasm about to break you, mind and body. Hands tightening painfully, you shatter— loud, high-pitched whines, ringing in your ears and pussy pulsing around Simon’s thick girth— and god, Simon doesn’t stop thrusting. He keeps the same smooth rhythm and you’d think he’s unaffected by the tight vice your pussy has him in— but you hear him, low, deep groans and a tighter grip on your hips telling you otherwise. 
He pulls out to bend over your back, completely covering it, and he murmurs in your ear, “I hope you didn’t think we were done. My girl wanted a fuckin’, now she’s gonna get it.” 
He takes off your pink, silly scrunchy and you see it around his tattooed wrist before he grabs your hair into a makeshift ponytail and is leaning back up and forcing your back to arch under his pull. You feel his leg at the height of your hips— propped up, foot flat on the bed and knee bent and the other straight on the floor and all you can think of is how this man is gonna kill you with his cock. 
Simon snaps his hips forward, fist full of hair pulling back,  stretching and filling in one strong thrust, bottoming out. He gives you no reprieve, no time to get used to how fucking deep he is, and sets an intense, firm pace that has you feeling a pinch below the navel every time his hip bones slap against your ass, balls to the clit and you love it. Every pinch in your lower belly has your pussy making a squelching sound and you can’t help yourself— you reach underneath your body to feel how split open you are with two fingers, encasing his cock and feeling the skin drag with them as he pulls out.
That has him hissing air between his teeth, he’s about to come but doesn't want it to be over so he pulls out, and opens your cheeks to spit in your furled hole, before pressing in with the pad of his thumb, and you’re almost screaming. He moves back a bit further to spit in your pussy, not that you need it— you’re drenching the sheets underneath you— and now he’s spearing you with his tongue before curling it, getting your juices pooled on it before coming back up, lips smacking, and he grabs your hair in his ponytail and now he uses his other hand to curls his fingers and palm over the front of your throat and that's all it takes for your vision to darken and arms go limp but he’s again, fucking you through your orgasm and this time you leave a creamy white ring at the base of his length. 
“Oh, fuckin hell.” He groans out and it sounds desperate and you know he’s close.
“Come in me, Simon. Please fill me up, I promise I’ll keep it all in.”
He gives a strained chuckle and says, “Pet, I can barely pull out of a driveway much less this tight little cunt.” He squeezes your throat hard, strands of hair popping out of your scalp and his cock feels massive, the pinch in your stomach feels like a cramp from how deep he is and he lets out a low drawn out moan that lasts 3 thrusts— and then there’s warmth filling you up, so much so it leaks from the sides of where you two are connected. Simon lets go of your hair and you fall face-first onto the bed, exhausted. Defeated. Back properly broken. You officially know what it’s like to get fucked within an inch of your life and you love it. 
He pulls out slowly, with a hiss from both of you and with one hand on your left cheek, he spreads you to look at your stuffed hole.
“Fuck. I love seeing me drip out of you.” 
You’re about to tell him to sod off when the doorbell rings and the both of you stiffen and lock eyes. With a mean snarl, Simon grabs a towel from your bathroom and his mask before stomping his way to answer the door, pink obnoxious scrunchy still on his wrist.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
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heartpascal · 10 months
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is it freedom?
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▹— spiderverse (future) found family x platonic!reader
▹— summary: after losing everything, you struggle to accept the one thing you needed all along.
▹— a/n: ok i have been enabled by exactly two (2!) people. (thank you both) SO dare i start a spiderverse series??? IF YALL WANT MORE OF THIS… I WILL DO IT. this is really just a set up thing idk but i feel like arachnid has potential for further parts and ACTUAL found family!! also haven’t tagged people on my general taglist bc idk if you guys want to be tagged in ALL works or just all pedro works :(
▹— warnings: slight across the spiderverse spoilers, not really found family yet, injuries, blood, treating own injuries, stitches, fighting (canon-typical violence yall), dead parents (mentioned a LOT), a whole lot of angst (it’s a spider-person so what do we expect), reader has a whole lot of bad thoughts, loneliness, isolation
masterlist PART TWO
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
Had you known what this, this thing, would lead to, you would have never started it. Not that you had done so purposely, at least to begin with, more so happening as an event of pure chance. You were in the right place at the right time, and since then, you had been addicted.
But if you could go back, look at yourself just a year younger than you are now, tell that kid what would come if you went through with saving a life for the first time, you wondered. It was a question that scratched deep in your brain, sending you off balance the more you thought about it; would you have still done it? Would you have saved that person’s life, knowing it would lead to your own falling apart?
You would like to think yes. In fact, you know that back then, when your eyes were bright at the prospect of helping people, when you still marvelled at the world like it was good, you would have been certain that it would be worth it. Why should that person die, just to save you? It’s a harrowing realisation. A conclusion that makes your fingers tremble, your voice shake. Now, you’re not sure you would do it. You don’t think you could bear to face that decision knowing what you know of the world around you now.
It’s something cruel, really, that the spider that bit you gave you these powers, and nothing to go back and fix your mistakes. Your perceived victories. Your losses.
But the worst has already happened, and the only one left to die is you, so you carry on. You don the suit every day, you sew up your own injuries on the top floor of the abandoned offices that you’ve claimed as your own. Each day, you wake when you choose, you sleep when you want to, and you work yourself down to your very bones with nobody to object.
The hollow feeling in your gut is a pain you have no choice to ignore, to smother with assurances that this is freedom. What else could it be? You do whatever you so please, you spend your time swinging through the streets of New York rather than doing schoolwork at home, you eat all the junk you could ever have wanted.
It’s freedom. It has to be.
You tell yourself that you don’t miss the home part of having to do schoolwork, promise your heart that you don’t miss home-cooked meals as opposed to greasy food that leaves you unsatisfied. You swear that you like having nobody to tell you what to do. There’s no other choice, after all.
And each day, when you spend a little bit longer out on the streets, getting yourself into needless fights that the police could certainly handle, you tell yourself it’s because you’re protecting the city. You convince yourself that it’s not because of having an unending rage to satiate, or a permanent feeling of breathlessness when you leave police to handle anything, as if you could relive the moment your father, the captain, was left to handle something he couldn’t.
So, you’re almost relieved by the appearance of something… strange. Something dangerous. This is what you live for — this is your job.
You crouch against the wall, fingers splayed and suit itching where you had crudely sewn it back together across your ribs at an almost too-close call. You hold your breath, you watch. The lenses over your eyes shield your sensitive sight from the harshest colours of this new opponent, who looks almost… unreal. Too different to be a part of reality. He yells out, seemingly glitching? A distorted scream of what is apparently pain, accompanied by flashes of colour that are unfamiliar to you.
“Well, that doesn’t look good.” You comment, eyebrows raised beneath your mask, and the strange looking guy snaps his head towards you, long hair slapping across the goggles over his eyes. He bares his teeth at you, something almost resembling a grin marring his face.
“Spider-man!” He yells triumphantly, cackling as he wipes the hair away from his face, tendrils unfurling from behind his back and lifting him into the air.
“Not quite!” You call back, dodging below the metallic arm that shoots towards where your head was, crumbling through the wall. You try to think back to the jokes you used to tell to rile up whoever you were facing, but find your mind is blank. Instead, all you can think of is questions. “Where the hell did you come from, anyway?”
The man follows you as you spring from wall to wall, heading towards the center of the building where it tunnels up for about forty floors, balconies overlooking the fountain below. “A new spider, eh? Well I’ll take you down just as easily as I have the other!” He tells you, though you’re immediately suspicious of his statement. You’re the only Spider-related hero around, and even if you weren’t, you doubt this guy could squash a worm, let alone you.
“Sure thing, man.” You say, sighing, already exhausted by the repetitiveness that comes with every fight. Your opponents always say they’ll beat you, kill you, squish you, take you down, and yet you always get back up at the end of the fight, and they always remain defeated. When you started doing this, you never would have thought you’d get so tired from winning all the time.
And yet here you are, slipping further and further up the building with the octopus-looking guy chasing after you, metal arms crumbling walls and bannisters on his way up. He falters once more, another one of those glitch-like movements sending him down a few floors, but he’s quick to recover. Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy.
You crouch down on one balcony, somewhere around the thirty mark floor-wise, peering down at the guy as he shakes lingering pain from his body. He charges upwards, aiming to reach you quickly with an almost predatory smirk on his face. Before he can even get close to you, however, you’re back on the move, setting a trap for him that he doesn’t even seem to notice.
It’s only when a group of late workers emerge on what you’re pretty sure is the twenty-first floor that you become more anxious about this fight. You don’t like when civilians are involved.
There’s about a dozen of them crowding the balcony, looking up to where you’re facing off with octopus-man above, some having begun to descend the stairs to the next floor before catching on to your presence. You try not to draw attention to them, but their pointing and whispering sets the Spidey-sense off, ringing loudly between your ears, almost deafening in its intensity. Maybe you underestimated this guy. The flash of a camera sends the last hope of him not noticing down the drain, and he grins at you as he switches targets, climbing down towards them with some semblance of caution.
You’re much faster than he is, dropping down and using a web to catch yourself rather than having to climb. It’s hard to stop yourself from yelling at them, cursing them out for being so damn foolish — who in their right mind would stick around a very dangerous fight to take pictures?
Instead, you choose to yell, “Get out! Go, go, go.” And usher them down the stairs, but it’s not difficult to realise that this guy is going to get to them before they manage to descend to the bottom. You shouldn’t be surprised, really. Nothing is ever as simple as it could be, not for you.
The split second decision to drop down and form a net-like web low enough to catch the workers worked out for you in the end, as you swung back up and pushed the workers off of the balcony and stairway just as the octopus man was reaching them. He cursed at you, refocusing his efforts on you as you vaguely noted the workers clambering down after their screaming had stopped. Honestly — did people really have so little faith in you? Had you ever sent anybody to their death before?
“You are just as pesky of an insect as Spider-man!” He growled out, teeth gritted, and came after you with renewed force. He kind of reminded you of that doctor you faced not long after getting your powers, but this guy looked completely different. The doctor you faced — aptly named Doc Ock — had turned himself into some form of a mutant, he had reinforced tentacles which sprouted from his back. Was this guy some kind of copy cat? Maybe he was just delusional.
“I don’t know who Spider-man is, man!” You shout to him as you ascend the building again, trying to figure out the best way to take this guy down. His tentacles seem electronic, so surely you could disable whatever machinery resides on his back?
“That’d be me.” A voice came from above you, two floors ahead of your position. Your head snapped towards it, seeing a man in a blue and red suit, framed by a burst of orange behind him. He didn’t linger up there long, instead moving to leap down to the guy who had turned his attention to the new guy. The closer you looked at this new guy, the more similarities you saw to yourself — his webs looked remarkably similar to your own, the pattern that went across his suit matched your own, even the wide white lenses that shielded your eyes on your mask. Who the hell was this guy?
The octopus man grinned widely, shaking greasy hair from his face. “Ah, finally! The real Spider-man. Got yourself a new protégé, I see.” He drawled, dodging this new guy’s hit straight off of the bat. You tried not to get annoyed at being referred to as a protégé, considering as far as you were aware, you were the only Spider-person around. Where was this guy when you were holding a bridge full of civilians together? Where was he when you took down villain after villain, never once failing to get the guy? No — you were the real Spider-man, if anyone.
“I don’t know who you are, man, but I’m handling this just fine.” You call to the guy, swinging down to rejoin the fight, webbing the villain’s metal tentacles to the wall behind him, before dropping down to kick him towards the wall.
“Oh, so you know how to send this guy back to his own dimension?” Spider-man asks you, eyebrows raised beneath his mask, and as if on cue, the guy glitches once more, ripping his arms away from the wall and just about catching himself on a balcony below before he could fall into your net.
You gape at the new guy, glancing back up to where the burst of orange remains opened, and is that a portal? Is this Spider-man from another dimension? Is that why you’ve never heard of him before? God, if your mother was alive, she’d kill to find out about this. Inter-dimensional travel was something she had spent her life researching. If you didn’t remain so bitter toward her even after her death, you might’ve been sad she wasn’t alive to see this.
But you were bitter, and it made the experience all the worse.
Because you’re pretty sure that that bitterness takes the place of grief within you. It’s hard to understand why you crave to feel that pain, that grief, as opposed to the aching resentment that floods you with the thought of her. It’s such a sharp contrast to thinking of your father, your kind father, the man who threw himself into a battle he couldn’t have hoped to survive, just on the off chance he could save somebody. You hope you take after him.
“Wait— you’re from another dimension?” You question anyway, eyes flickering between the battle and the looming portal above. In fact, you’re so distracted by finding out about that tidbit of information that you miss octopus man aim a tentacle for you, and it snatches you around the ankle. “Oh, you gotta be kidding me—!”
The man waves you around like some kind of rag doll, and you try not to be too bitter about being caught off guard. You should probably learn that getting caught up in your little pity party always ends up badly, always distracts you from that renowned Spidey-sense. You formulate a plan in your mind when the drip of blood around your ankle draws your attention back to the battle at hand.
You web the wall opposite and hold on tight, pausing the movements and letting the dizziness that had come over you fade away. The man growls out in annoyance, and gets closer to cut the webs with another tentacle, which is exactly what you planned for. The tension from the webs launches you towards him when you let go, and in his surprise, the metal tentacle releases you. You wrap around him, and start webbing up the machinery embedded in his back as Spider-man distracts most of the tentacles, keeping them from pulling you off.
His tentacles start faltering, clearly not obeying his movements, and you wrap them up where they emerge from his back, continuing along until the movement is so limited that he has to use them all to clutch onto the nearest balcony.
You crawl up the tentacles in the very same spidery manner that you’re known for, and crouch, watching the octopus man struggle as Spider-man observes from the balcony opposite. “You wanna finish this one off, Spider-man?” You ask, unable to hide any bitterness from your tone at his mostly unhelpful actions throughout the battle.
“Hey, not bad!” He praises, and it annoys you. You’re good at what you do — for the most part. You manage without help constantly, and that’s the way you prefer it. “You’d make a good addition to the Spider Society!”
Now, you don’t know what the Spider Society is. But honestly? You don’t care. You don’t need help, and you prefer working alone, and you certainly don’t like feeling patronised.
“Whatever, man. Just send him back to whatever dimension he came from.” You tell the guy, and drop down as you hear sirens outside, landing on your injured ankle and just about stopping yourself from cursing. Through all the adrenaline and fighting, you’d forgotten about the way the metal had ripped into your skin, drawn blood. It’s just be another place you’d have to sew up your suit with itchy, uneven stitching. “Officers,” You greet as they open the doors, guns drawn, radios murmuring. “All taken care of. Civilians okay?”
“Shaken up, but fine.” The leading police officer says, immediately relaxing and holstering his weapon. You wish it reassured you that the police trusted you now, but it didn’t. Nonetheless, the other officers follow suit. “Thank you, Arachnid.”
The name your world has bestowed upon you has yet to grow on you, but you nod your head regardless, and salute them as you make your way out, swinging across the city, trying to put the existence of the multiverse and inter-dimensional travel out of your mind. Surprisingly, it’s pretty easy when you have a busted ankle to fix up.
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
You’re halfway through stitching up your suit, having already sewn your skin back together with as much skill as you possessed in the matter — which was, not much. But the bleeding has stopped, and your stupidly slow healing will take care of it within a few days. You know that the itchy stitches on your suit will just irritate the injury, and though you wouldn’t lose anything if your identity was revealed, it doesn’t feel right to go out into the city with any part of you on show.
No, you wear the suit for a reason. You keep every part of yourself covered because nobody can know it’s you underneath the suit. Not because you had anything to lose, no, you had already lost everything. It was because then you could never make a mistake, you would have to be absolutely perfect, flawless, to make up for the fact that it was you underneath the layer.
So, you settle with a sewn suit that will itch and make the stitches on your ankle sting.
However, when there’s a burst of orange across the room, you have no choice but to forgo the suit, to simply drop the needle and thread and hover your fingers over your web shooters. You wait, nervously, for some other villain to appear. You’re not sure if Spider-man appearing would be better or worse.
But when a foot steps through the portal, it’s nobody familiar. In fact, it’s a suit you have never seen before, made up of dark blues and bright reds, sharp edges and long claws. It’s… unnerving, and considering the silence coming from the person wearing it, you’re not entirely certain of what they’re here for.
A moment later and another person steps through, a woman, with bright yellow lenses across her eyes that filter her irises into an amber. She steps forward, standing beside the person who had stepped through first, and if she hadn’t showed up, you would’ve been tempted to attack. With that being said, you remain on edge, but there’s something… comforting about her presence. Like her presence softens the man’s jagged edges.
She says your name, and then adds, “Arachnid.”
You furrow your brows and curse as you glance back at the suit so crudely laid out on the floor. Still, it doesn’t explain how she knows your name. Was it an inter-dimensional thing?
“Spider-man told us about your work in capturing Doc Ock earlier.” She tells you, as if that explains their presence. You did what you were supposed to do, which was take out the bad guys. “We’re here to offer you a place in the Spider Society.”
You can’t help but wonder if this is some kind of good cop, bad cop thing. She presents an offer which doesn’t sound too bad, and then her sharp-edged companion presents all the drawbacks and the catches. They don’t seem like the type to take no for an answer, either way. You still don’t even know what this Spider Society was! Was it some kind of multi-dimensional cult?
“I already told Spider-man that I wasn’t interested in joining whatever cult you’ve got going on.” You practically hiss, though you didn’t exactly tell him in such blatant words. You were more dismissive earlier, so you’d have to be clear now.
“It’s not a cult,” The man speaks, voice harsh and sharp much like the blades that branch from his forearms. “We work to protect the multiverse from anomalies that threaten to destroy it.”
The woman glances at him in a way that you translate as being vaguely annoyed, like he wasn’t approaching you in the way she had wanted him to. “He means to say that it’s a big job, and we need all the help we can get.” She says, softer, but only in comparison to the man’s harshness. “Listen, kid, you’re good at what you do. We need that kind of talent.”
“You’ll have to find it somewhere else.” You say firmly, because why would you want to leave your universe? This was a lot to think about when you had only learned of the multiverse existing mere hours ago. Regardless, you weren’t about to abandon your city just to go across the multiverse to help other heroes who couldn’t keep a leash on their own villains.
The two of them shared a look, a mere glance, before the woman heaved a sigh. “Look,” She sighed, heavily, like whatever she was about to say was something she didn’t want to be voicing. “Before you make your choice, you should know, your Green Goblin is currently terrorising another universe.”
You couldn’t work out if this was some kind of recruitment tactic, or something. That just wasn’t possible. You had put Gwen Stacy in the highest security prison after all antidotes to her goblin-tech failed. She was stuck in there — permanently. There was no way she had gotten out, let alone gotten out to another universe.
…Right?
It’s hard not to think of the memories at the mention of her—Green Goblin, not Gwen Stacy. Never Gwen Stacy. You wonder if this is where your fear comes from, the terrifying fact that you are remembered only for your mistakes. Because before she was the Green Goblin, she was Gwen. She was everything to you. She was the sun you orbited, the stars that charted your path. And it hurts, it hurts that you can only remember the blood and the dust and the destruction when you think of her.
People aren’t born as monsters, are they?
Like the spider that bit you, that invertebrate that so many fear, it was born the way it was. It was born with those fang-lined maws, with those eight legs and dozens of eyes. It was made into the monster it became, artificially crafted to deliver a venom that changed you forever. But it wasn’t born that way.
Surely, Gwen wasn’t either. She was kind. You remember that about her. You can remember her soft hands that used to hold your own, the loud laughter that always ended in a snort when she laughed at her own jokes, the gentle eyes that stared into your very soul. But those eyes are the very same ones that let her see through your mask, let her see exactly where to hit you to make it hurt. Was that what she was born as? Or is that what she was made into? A killer. A monster.
“Show me.” You say, because what else could you possibly respond? If what they’re saying is true, if the Green Goblin is loose once more, then people will die.
You can’t let her get fresh blood on her hands. Not when somewhere, deep inside your chest, so far down it’s almost unreachable, you have hope for her. You have an innate desire to look for the best in her, even when the Gwen you knew was the first life that the Green Goblin took.
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
If there’s one thing you’ve taken from being Arachnid, it’s to expect the unexpected. And you go through the orange portal after Jessica Drew and Miguel O’Hara with that exact mindset about you, staring at where an orange watch-like device is wrapped around your wrist.
It’s in your nature to be suspicious, and these people weren’t an exception to that.
In fact, their presence only heightened that behaviour. After all, what were you to expect from two Spider people, who supposedly came to you for your help?
You weren’t blind, you saw the aged lines of their faces the moment you got close enough to see them clearly, away from the dim lighting of the building. They were adults, adults who had clearly been doing this type of thing a lot longer than you had. You, who was barely bordering on adult, who had fought enough battles already to last a lifetime — so why would they need you?
It didn’t feel right.
And when this Miguel person summoned Lyla the moment you walked through the portal, it felt all the more wrong. She was a hologram of some kind, much higher tech than the kind of thing you saw on your earth. But then again, you had never really been in high tech labs back in your earth. Still, it unsettled you. “Lyla, get me the location of Green Goblin, Earth 5011.” He commanded, and they argued in hushed voices for a moment, before a wider hologram appeared, stamped at Earth 3899.
“How did she get to another universe?” You ask, then, because it doesn’t make sense, and you’re shaking underneath the thin material of your suit. You’re hyper aware of each drag of stitching against the wound on your leg, each patch of fabric you had sewn on in hopes of the suit lasting you just a little longer, because you didn’t have the resource to produce a new one.
“It’s an anomaly.” Jessica Drew tells you, her tone softer than you’d heard it, as if she was attempting to reassure you in some way.
It didn’t help. But how could it? The last time you had faced Gwen Stacy—Green Goblin— you had lost so much. It had been the beginning of the end of everything good in your life. The explosion she had caused at your mother’s laboratory was the very same one that killed her, the very same explosion that sent you and your dad miles apart all while living in the same home. And still, you found a way to hope that there was something to salvage within Gwen.
But not only had you lost your mother, and not long after — your father, you had also lost your closest friend. The one person you had confided in, who knew you from your surface to the deepest level, and she had used that against you the moment the Goblin had taken over.
It had taken everything in you to beat her, back then.
And that was on home turf! How did these people expect you to do that a second time, in a completely unfamiliar place?
“Specifics aren’t important right now. Jessica, you take Arachnid. Lyla, send another one of the teams.” Miguel instructed, dismissing your questions right off the bat. It was frustrating. They were leaving you completely in the dark, and sending you to fight the worst enemy you had ever faced, and they were sending you alongside others like you from different universes. It was like asking you to bare your soul in front of them, to reveal your secrets, your deepest regrets, everything that you wanted to stay buried.
You knew Green Goblin. You knew that’s exactly what she would do. She would undermine you, she would lay your life out in front of you like tiles on a scrabble board. In the end, none of it amounted to much.
Jessica Drew made her way out, glancing at you and nodding for you to follow along. Your moment of hesitation had drawn Miguel’s attention, and he called out to you after a moment of hesitation. “We’ve all faced one like it, kid. It’s easier with others.” He told you, though he held a pained expression on his face all the while. Instead of admitting to the way he had hit the nail right on the head, you simply nodded and followed after Spider-woman.
It was a whirlwind from there.
Meeting up with others. Travelling the length of the so-called Lobby to wherever it was that Jessica was taking you. When you finally arrived, she offered an empty glass box with a mannequin inside, bare. She gestured towards it like it should’ve been self explanatory, but soon realised she’d have to spell it out for you.
You shouldn’t have been so upset by the offer of a new suit.
But you were.
This suit was your life. You had nothing outside of it, not anymore. You couldn’t just throw it away, as if it meant nothing, as if every rip and patch and wonky stitch didn’t mean anything. These were proof that what you were doing was real, that it was worth something. Each stitch proved you had value. You weren’t about to throw all of that away, especially for whatever overly technical suit these people would provide.
You had everything you needed.
And so Jessica led you to the next destination: Earth 3899.
The moment you stepped through the portal, it was like you were hit with a wave of familiarity. And not in a positive, slightly nostalgic way, no— this was chaos. This was the state your world had been in when Green Goblin ran riot, unchecked. She had torn apart buildings, blown up parks, she had set New York City aflame. And she was doing exactly the same here.
It was more contained here than it had been on your earth, and you had to assume that was thanks to the Spider-man already on site, coordinating police, ambulance and fire responses to douse the fires as quickly as she set them. If only the police in your city had trusted you so much, back then.
“Where is she?” You ask, the moment you get close enough to speak to the resident Spider-man of the universe. He looks at you as if you’re familiar, but doesn’t comment, instead just pointing a finger toward a skyscraper just a short way ahead. You’re gone the moment he tells you where to go.
She had the uncanny ability to stay quiet. It had freaked you own back on your own earth, but it was even more terrifying here, where things were ever so slightly different.
“Arachnid.” Gwen’s voice called, and for a moment, you could forget. You could forget every horrible thing the Goblin had done, and you could remember your friend, your Gwen, who had called out to Arachnid more than once without knowing it was you behind the mask. Whether it was for a story or to provide information on your most recent opponent, the voice calling your alias was familiar. But then there was that crackle of laughter, an unnatural gurgle in the way it left her throat, and you turned to see the green-tinged pallor of her skin. “I was so hoping you’d show up.”
You didn’t know how much her appearance would effect you, until you were stuck to the side of the building, staring at what had once been your best friend. You’re so choked up that you can’t even formulate a response, because you want that to be Gwen so badly, but you know it isn’t. The more you look at her, the more Goblin you see, the more you know that the Gwen you love is never coming back.
“Nothing to say?” She asks, and then says your real name, the name she used to say down the crackle of a phone line, or across the school hallway, and she smiles. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”
“You should’ve stayed in prison, Gwen.” You say, your voice unsteady as you say her name aloud for the first time in what must be forever. She seems to relish in the tremble of your voice, and you have to curse yourself for being so stupid, for already showing the vulnerability she was so easily able to pick out.
The Green Goblin tutted at you, stood atop her glider, but the smile you saw didn’t belong to Gwen. “You’re pathetically predictable, you know. You’re like a moth to the flame.” She tells you, and you fear that she’s right, that you’re the same person you were back when you fought her, back when she almost won. She sighs, like something heavy is weighing upon her, but it turns wistful in the blink of an eye. “I’m just glad your dad isn’t here to see this. He’d be so disappointed.”
“Arachnid, focus.” Jessica’s voice interrupts, before you can spiral down that rabbit hole. How did Gwen even know about your father? She was in prison long before he died. It didn’t make sense.
“Maybe,” You say, that familiar tremble around your words. “He did always hope for the best for you.”
She bares her teeth at your words, the only visible reaction before her mask is slipping over the bottom of her face, stretching out up to pointed ears, all metallic and tinted a murky green. Then, she’s attacking.
It’s muscle memory, mostly, you think.
If you don’t think too hard about it, it could be like playing a game with a longtime friend from your childhood. You know the moves to make, you know how she’ll respond. It’s a constant push and pull, a balance which leaves only destruction behind, the path of the Green Goblin’s wrath tangible in each battle scene the two of you leave behind. You can’t beat her like this.
It’s her glitching that gives you a slight upper hand — and you send her careening off of her glider to the ground below.
Your heart squeezes suddenly in your chest as you watch her fall, her eyes wide in what could almost be perceived as fear. If you didn’t intervene, would she die? Would you have put an end to her story, once and for all, when you secretly hope there’s a cure out there for her? You can’t bear the thought of finding out, of watching her die, and so you foolishly dive after her.
A web to her midsection allows you to grip her before she hits the ground, and you set her down with a far more gentle hand than you would ever admit.
She says your name, then, a whispered version of it that sounds like Gwen. You think you can see her in those wide blue eyes, in that stare, and you approach with some caution. “Gwen,” You say, more of a question, “You with me?”
“I’m with you,” She answers, as you reach her side, as you resist the urge to pull off your mask. You’re so preoccupied staring at her expression that you don’t see the blade until it’s too late, your Spidey-sense failing you as you wallowed in your search for someone who was gone. “You sweet, predictable bug.” She spits then, twisting the blade she had sunk deep into your side, and you writhe, trying to move away from her.
“Arachnid!” Jessica Drew calls out, drawing the Green Goblin’s attention, allowing you to pull away from her slackened grasp. You leave the blade where it is, knowing your only slightly enhanced healing wouldn’t make up for the onslaught of blood that would pour from the wound. “I think that’s enough, Green Goblin.” Jessica says, riding a motorbike that you swore she didn’t have earlier. Nonetheless, she uses it to put even more space between you and your villain.
“You need a hand, kid?” A new voice asks, and a gloved hand reaches out for you where you had knelt against the tarmac. You look up, seeing a new Spider-man, but this one has his mask up, showing off his aged face and the bags underneath his eyes. You wave him off, staggering up to your feet, and clench your jaw as you stare at Green Goblin, watch as she pulls bombs from her waistband, barely the size of a chocolate bar, but capable of causing irreparable damage. “Get back to HQ, Arachnid, we can handle this.” Spider-man tells you, in what you suspect to be a fatherly voice, but you ignore him.
Time flies, slips out of your grasp, and you don’t know how long you and the others spend fighting Green Goblin, but she proves to be just as difficult of a foe for them to face as she was for you. Each time the three of you manage to get the drop on her, she slips away before she could be caught. It’s frustrating, and you can even see the way irritation thickens in the air, tangible.
Spider-man, or Peter, as Jessica had called him, is with you, focusing on trying to take Green Goblin down, whilst Jessica Drew is focused on damage control, blowing up Gwen’s bombs before they could hit their intended targets. You’re pretty sure the resident Spider-man is around here, too, pulling any lingering citizens out of harms way before Green Goblin could end them. You’d admit, it works better than you had done alone back on your own earth.
But it doesn’t work well enough, and more than one building is damaged almost beyond repair, and in the dust and rubble, Peter was distracted by the few citizens poking their heads out of the gaping hole in the side of their apartments. He didn’t see Green Goblin coming until it was too late, until she had thrown two of her bombs, one towards him, and one towards the already wrecked building.
Your throat dries up as you try to figure out what to do, who to go for, but in the end, you don’t have to choose.
Beams of glowing orange webs shoot into the bombs where they arc towards their victims, blowing them up and leaving both Peter and the civilians in the apartments without a scratch on any of them. Well, nothing that wasn’t already there before. You see him then, running alongside Jessica Drew, none other than Miguel O’Hara — who clearly didn’t think that the three of you were capable of handling Green Goblin.
“We’ve gotta end this.” Peter tells the three of you, glaring over at Green Goblin after coming so close to one of her bombs.
“You distract, I’ll go in.” You say, the only plan that makes sense. The only plan that’ll work. You wouldn’t be much use as a distraction, not with the blood still pooling around the blade hanging from your side, but you could beat her. You knew you could.
Peter nodded, and he, Jessica and Miguel went in one after another, landing hits on Green Goblin before she could even think to withdraw another bomb, or land a hit of her own, whilst you made your way behind her, swinging as high as you dared to go in your state. She was getting angry, you could tell, a distinct flush rushing up the back of her neck, a tell that Green Goblin shared with Gwen.
It was only when she was starting to turn the tide that you jumped down from your spot against the side of a building, looking for your opening.
She sent Jessica Drew tumbling off of her motorbike, which was your chance.
Green Goblin heard you only a moment before you were on her, not giving her a chance to make a countermove. Instead, you were curling your arms around her, as tight as you could, holding her hands away from her waistband. You gripped the blade in your side and yanked it out, holding it to her chest, breathing heavily through the pain as you bared your teeth at her, her face beside your own.
“Don’t make me kill you.” You say, and try not to hear the pleading in your own voice, the distinctive tone of a beg. You may have the upper hand on her, but as always, she had the power. “Don’t.” You repeat, because you can feel it in your bones that you would do it. If it was the choice between her or the hundreds that she would kill on this world, it would be those hundreds. There was no doubt about it, no questions to be asked.
You may have resented your mother, but she wasn’t the only one who died because of the Green Goblin. You wouldn’t let that happen again.
Perhaps she heard the plea in your voice, the giveaway that you weren’t bluffing, because she went still in your arms, still enough for the other Spiders to approach with some caution, eyes on her hands where you held them away from any weapons, using your forearm connected to the hand holding the blade to her chest to keep her left hand from grasping anything.
“I won’t be asking again.” You tell her, which is as much of a threat as you can muster. Or, more so, a promise.
As Miguel pushed you back with a firm hand, throwing a machine at Gwen’s feet, you think she understands. If the two of you are ever in that position again, there will be no hesitation about it. You will kill her.
“Good work, kid.” Peter says as Miguel and Jessica get to work with getting your Green Goblin through a portal to the HQ. He glanced down at where your hand is now pressing into your side, blood pouring steadily. In your other hand, you still hold the blade that had pierced your own skin, that would have killed Gwen Stacy had she not surrendered. He winces as if it’s him who got hurt, and guides you through the portal after the others. “C’mon, we’ll get you checked out. You not got enhanced healing?” He asks, though you suspect he doesn’t expect you to answer, and you’re glad.
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
“I can do this myself, you know.” You sigh, wincing as a Spider-man — who apparently is also a doctor and works in the Spider Society’s infirmary — stitches up the wound on your midsection. It’s uncomfortable, though less painful that when you do it yourself. Still, it’s uncomfortable to accept help from these strangers.
“Ooh, shouldn’t say that to him.” Peter B. Parker laughs, one of the many Peter Parkers of the Society, but the same one who had fought Green Goblin with you. “He’ll lecture you on proper healthcare for days if you give him the opportunity!”
The Spider-doctor glares at Peter, or you assume he does, from the slight squint of the lenses of his mask. He kisses his teeth under the mask, tutting, muttering about “Spiders and their complete disregard for their health. Lucky you haven’t died ten times over from infections.” But he doesn’t say anything that requires a response from you, and he soon finished up the stitches. He goes to offer to fix up the injury on your ankle, but you’re up on your feet before he can even get the words out.
“Now, I gotta get back home to the wife, but Miguel wants to see you. He’ll take you home,” Peter tells you as he walks out of the infirmary by your side, but he stops you in the hallway with a hand on your shoulder, surprisingly gentle. “If that’s what you want.”
Your eyebrows furrowed before you could stop them, and the confusion over his words must’ve been written all over your face.
“Why wouldn’t I want that?” You ask, defensively.
Peter opens his mouth, but nothing escapes. Instead, it’s his expression that tells you everything he’s thinking. The crease between his brows screams pitying, or sympathetic. He’s talking about the way you live back on your earth, about the life you lead, Arachnid by day, and by night. With no room for you, no room for your secret identity. He’s thinking of the way you’ll be returning to a world with nobody awaiting you, with not a soul to look out for you, to stitch you up after a battle. Nobody but yourself, anyway.
You pull away from him, brows furrowing further, into an almost angered expression, and you don’t watch the way his hand falls away from your shoulder back to his side. He sighs when you turn away, scoffing as you make your way through the hallways of the Lobby towards where you think Miguel will be.
It’s overwhelming, all of these people. They all believe that they know you, that they know your circumstances, your story, but the truth is that they don’t. Nobody does, and that’s the way you prefer it. You don’t need a Society of Spiders surrounding you, breathing down your neck, telling you they’re sorry, or not trusting you to handle yourself in your own fights, because you can handle yourself. You’ve spent the last year of your life trying to prove that, trying to prove that you can do good things, that you’re worthy of the title Arachnid. You certainly shouldn’t need to prove that to a whole Society of people like you, most of which had been doing the job a lot longer.
You’re capable and you’re content.
You don’t need a life as your secret identity to be content, in fact, it’s better without one. You don’t have to tell so many lies, don’t have to worry about hurting the people you love, because there are none of them left. There’s nobody to hurt, and there’s nobody to lie to. Why would you want to change that?
The hallway ahead looks familiar, and you follow it until you enter a room where Miguel stands, looking at orange tinted screens on a platform halfway up the room. You enter with the absolute certainty that you want to return to your own earth, and you’re not going to let anybody stop you.
“I’m ready.” You tell him, expectantly.
He scoffs, saying nothing, still staring at the screens in front of him. For whatever reason, the reaction makes you angry — inexplicably so. You’re slinging up to the platform before you can have a second thought about it, and you’re pushing his shoulder so he’ll face you, so he’ll acknowledge you.
He stares at you, unimpressed.
“Send me back to my earth.” You press, brows furrowed beneath your mask, but you’re sure he can see the anger in the way your shoulders tense up.
“Sure,” Miguel said blankly, staring at you as if you’d suddenly change your mind or something. “But you know, there’s a lot more like her.” He added on when you said nothing, waiting for him to send you back to your world so you could give him back the stupid watch still wrapped around your wrist.
You stared at him like he was speaking a foreign language. “There are no more like her.” You respond, feeling that hot press on your chest. You don’t want to talk about Gwen Stacy anymore than you’re sure he’d like to talk about whatever he had gone through in his life. Hell, you don’t even want to think about her, but you know that nobody else you would ever have to face would hurt you in the way that she did. In the way that having to see her as an enemy, rather than your friend, had hurt. So, yeah, there was nobody like her, not for you.
Miguel seems ready to let you go for a moment, but then he’s shaking his head at you. “You have a place here. You can be with people like you. You don’t have to do this alone, anymore.” He says, and you think that is ironic, because you don’t see anybody else in here. To you, it seems like he is doing exactly that; doing the job alone. You can practically see the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“I prefer being alone.” You tell him, and it has to be true. It has to be.
His jaw sets, acceptance, you think, and he nods. He glances past you, to where a portal was open on the floor below. Considering that you hadn’t seen him set up the portal, you’d wager that his AI Lyla must’ve listened in and done it for him. You pull the watch off of your wrist, relishing in the way your very atoms seem to sag with the weight of being in another dimension.
“Thanks.” You say, and drop down, landing on your sore ankle but not murmuring a word about the pain. You walk back to your world with your head held high, despite your tattered suit and multitude of wounds that would take days to stop hurting.
Miguel stares after you as the portal closes, eyebrows furrowed. He barely acknowledges Jessica Drew’s arrival in the room, already having known she had been lingering in the hallway, listening in. “Well, that went well.” She comments, glancing between where the portal had been and where Miguel stands, brooding. She knows how much pressure he puts on himself, and she knows that he cares about each and every Spider-person in the multiverse. It doesn’t take a Spider-sense to see the way in which you struggle. It’s a familiar struggle, sure, but there were so many Spiders across the multiverse who had a shoulder to lean on in their hardest times. Who did you have? There was no Aunt May for Arachnid, or Gwen Stacy, or Harry Osborne, or, well, anybody.
Jessica thinks that if anybody were to know exactly how that felt, it would be Miguel.
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l3viiaa · 2 years
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crazy how y'all hump the mfing leg of that racist child abusin fucker from stranger things and then go "hnng fuck johnathan he is creep" but thats none of my business.. 🤔
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azriels-shadowsinger · 2 months
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No. 13 for Azriel please ❤️❤️🤌✨
“Everything reminds me of you, it's driving me insane”
Azriel x Reader
wc: 1.4K
a/n: kinda inspired by cardan’s letters. if yall read the cruel prince series then u know. get ready for some angst yall.
prompt list
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“This is the last straw Azriel. I can’t handle not being a priority in your life! You always choose Rhys, Cassian, Elain, work, or literally anything else over me. I have only seen you once in the past week, and we live together for Cauldron’s sake! I feel like I live with a ghost. You’re gone before I wake up and you return after I fall asleep!” You yell between tears. “I can’t do this anymore. I love you, but it is too painful to keep living like this.” Azriel realizes where this is headed.
“Y/n, please. I’ll be better. I promise!” He begs, desperation in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Azriel. You had your chance, multiple actually. It’s too late.” You turn away, unable to look at his heartbroken face without potentially giving in. You can feel his shadows attempting to reach for you as you walk out the door.
———
January 7th
Dear y/n,
Rhys won’t tell me where exactly you left to, but promised he would deliver this. I understand that you are angry with me and that you need some time to calm down. I hope that you will return soon so we can work this out. I love you and I’m sorry.
Sincerely,
Azriel
———
January 29th
Dear y/n,
Point taken, dear. I know I messed up, but it’s been weeks and I miss you.
I know you are getting these letters. Rhys said he ensured they would be delivered. I guess that doesn't guarantee that you will read them. Nevertheless, I am sorry for my actions and I am taking steps to create boundaries in my life so that I can have more time for you. I can prove it, if only you would just come home.
With deepest apologies,
Azriel
———
February 14th
My love,
I had hoped you would return before Valentine's Day. You always loved celebrating this holiday. I know you won’t see them, but I still got you flowers. They're on your nightstand.
It's been over a month. I miss your voice. Please come home.
Azriel
———
March 7th
Y/n,
If this is your way of punishing me, then consider it a success. I’m a wreck without you. Please come home.
-Azriel
———
March 30th,
My heart,
I am begging you to come home. Come home and yell at me, come home and fight with me, just please come home. I love you and I’m so sorry.
Always with love,
Azriel
———
May, 15th,
Y/n,
I understand what you meant about feeling like you were living with a ghost. Everything reminds me of you, and it’s driving me insane. I am haunted by these traces of you around our home. Please end this torment and come back to me.
-Azriel
———
June 7th
I’m sorry.
I love you.
Why are you doing this to me?
I hate myself for causing this and pushing you away.
Do you still love me? Do you even miss me?
Please come home I can’t take it anymore.
I love you I love you I love you I love you
I miss you.
———
Y/n,
This is my last letter. I won’t bother you anymore after this. I hope that wherever you are, you are happy. I will always regret taking your love for granted.
Eternally yours,
Azriel
———
It was another sleepless night for Azriel. He was plagued with the memories of every single time he chose something or someone else over you. He’s past the point of beating himself up over it, but rather, he considers this the worst punishment of all. Being forced to relive each memory over and over, unable to change it. Hating himself and drowning his sorrows in whiskey.
He hears a knock at the door. It’s probably Cass or Rhys, doing their weekly check on him, since he rarely leaves the house anymore. Azriel chooses to ignore them.
They knock again.
“Fuck off, I’m not in the mood tonight guys.” He barks in the direction of the door, taking another sip of his whiskey.
Another knock.
Cauldron boil him, his brothers were relentless. He was going to open the door, but only to yell at them to leave. He grumbles angrily to himself all the way to the door.
“I said I wasn’t-“ It's not Rhys or Cassian on his doorstep. Instead, he sees you, holding a stack of letters. His letters.
This is another dream, he thinks. He must have fallen asleep on the couch. When he wakes you will be gone again, having torn the rip in his heart even wider. But until then, he lets himself indulge in the dream. Azriel doesn’t hesitate for another moment before pulling you into a tight hug.
“My dreams must be especially cruel tonight because somehow I am able to smell your perfume. I can feel your heartbeat.” He mumbles, face buried in your hair. His shadows encompass you two, whispering in Azriel’s ear y/n, y/n, y/n
“This isn’t a dream, Azriel.” You say softly, pulling away to look at him and placing a gentle hand on his cheek. It takes him a moment to realize what’s happening, but as soon as he does, he pulls you back into a hug, even tighter than before. You feel hot tears fall onto your shoulder as his shadows surge around you.
“My love, my heart, my star. You came back to me.” He sobs. Your heart breaks at the pain in his voice. You had known he was probably upset about the breakup, but in an attempt to heal and move on, you never opened his letters… until last night.
After several long minutes of intense bear hugs, he finally manages to let go. Well kind of, he can’t seem to let your hand go yet.
“We should talk, Az.” You say nervously.
“I will do anything you want if it means you will stay.”
Gods, you were the worst person in the world. This poor male, who you still love desperately despite your best efforts, is so broken over you leaving.
“I’m not going anywhere, Az.” You reassure him. He finally loses a small bit of tension in his shoulders a the words, but his hands seem to hold tighter. You take a deep breath, trying to prepare for what you have to say.
“I didn’t read your letters until last night. I was trying to get over you, and so I avoided reading them. In an attempt to move on, I had convinced myself you were happy without me. But I couldn’t move on. I couldn't stop loving you. When I finally read your letters, I realized you truly had changed. I should’ve read them months ago. I should've never left. I’m so sorry Azriel. I understand if you need time or if you can’t forgive me but-“ He cuts you off.
“I forgive you. I don’t need time. I only need you here.” He’s so quick to dismiss every mistake you made, it breaks your heart. It will take a long while to reassure him that you aren’t ever leaving again, maybe a lifetime, but that’s okay.
You take notice of his dark circles and how skinny he has gotten. Gods, has he eaten at all since you left, you wonder.
“Let me make us some dinner, then we can talk more, okay?” Azriel nods and reluctantly lets go of your hand, following you to the kitchen like a lost puppy.
———
After several long hours of tears and brutal honesty, you and Azriel lay in your bed, embracing each other.
You spent the next week holed up in the house, reconnecting and reigniting your love for each other. You even took extra time to apologize to his shadows. They were very happy that you were back and made sure to show you so.
True to his word, Azriel never took your love for granted for as long as you both lived. And true to yours, you never left again.
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I think I may do this prompt again later with someone else in more of a rivals to lovers type scenario, but I kinda just felt like this was fun for this one and wanted to try it idk
prompt list
taglist: @fxckmiup
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4mnji · 16 days
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FORGIVE ME, BABY ᡣ𐭩 eren yeager x reader
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synopsis: u find out ur fwb has been fucking other girls on the low and u hate being one of his options, so he comes over to “apologize” to you
warnings: kissessss, pussy eating, fingering, orgasm denial, choking, pet names (baby, my love, princess), eren is just a lil mean n nonchalant 😠, reader is kinda possessive hehe 🎀, reader and eren r both in their 3rd year of college, once again written with a black women in mind but anyone can read
wc: 1.4k
a/n: here’s another fic that has been collecting dust in my notes for a hot minute. i hope yall enjoy 💋
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you’re chilling on your bed, scrolling through instagram bored outta your mind when you get a call from your fuck buddy, eren. you shot up from ur position on the bed making sure u looked good enough to answer the facetime call. when you were just about to pick up, you stopped in your tracks and let it ring until the call eventually went away.
you wanted to pick up, you really did but you had remembered that just a few days ago mikasa, your best friend, had sent you a screenshot of one of her instagram mutuals close friends post with a message undernesth it saying “isn’t that ur man??”. you clicked on the screenshot and it was a picture of eren and some random girl laying in bed, eren with his face buried deep into her neck displaying all the hickeys he must’ve gotten from her with her hand touching his back. you instantly knew it was eren because of the tattoo behind his ear. obviously you knew you and eren weren’t together and probably would never be, but you just couldn’t stand the sight of seeing him give the d to anyone else who wasn’t u when he could simply just hit you up if he wanted a good fuck. your phone dinged 2 times, making you snap out of your trance.
rennie 💋💋
why u ain’t pick up?
i have ur location, ik ur ass is home.
you rolled your eyes at his messages, deciding not to text him back and just call him instead. he picks up on the first ring, instantly questioning you, not even giving u a proper greeting. “why didn’t you pick up?” he says with a blank stare. “well hello to you too” you scoff which doesn’t go unnoticed by him but he chooses to ignore it. “i was in the bathroom.” you lied. eren nods his head, looking away from the camera not saying anything. there’s a moment of silence before he breaks it and shifts his focus back onto you. “i wanna come over, i miss you.” you shake ur head laughing a bit at his statement. “you don’t miss me, you was just with some other girl like 2 days ago. if you really missed me you would’ve came to me instead of her” eren opens his mouth to speak, but you countinue talking. “eren, you know how i feel about being one of your lil hoes. if you wanna have multiple girls on your roster and pick and choose who u want to fuck on what days, you can get the fuck off my line because i’m not gonna be apart of that bullshit.”
eren sighs and doesn’t say anything for a couple of seconds. he thinks about his next actions and choice of words carefully. on one hand, he can argue with you, which would then lead to you not talking to him for a week, ignoring all his messages and calls and then eventually you’ll get tired of doing that and tell him to come over so y’all can “talk”. or he can just agree with whatever you were saying—and he chose the latter. his patience was wearing thin, he actually did miss you and he didn’t want to jeopardize his chances of seeing you with some stupid argument.
after thinking out his words he finally speaks “you’re right princess, i’m sorry” he says trying to sound as sympathetic as possible. honestly, eren didn’t give a fuck if u did or didn’t like his lifestyle, he does whatever the hell he wants to do. however, he didn’t want u to get any more upset with him than u already were, so he decided to make u feel like u had the upper hand so u would let him come over.
you were about to open your mouth to say some slick shit to him because you knew that these type of conversations between the two of you always ended up in some type of back and forth argument, so you were taken aback when he not only agreed with what you were saying, but even apologized. and eren never apologizes. “im right?” u question, confusion laced in your tone. “yea baby, you are and i’m sorry for making you feel that way. i’ll stop fucking around with all these girls i promise, just let me come over so i can make it up to you properly” after hearing all of eren’s empty promises and him actually “agreeing” with what u had to say for once, you folded immediately and told him to come over. you probably would’ve been standing on buisness a little bit more if u didn’t crave his touch so much but you did, you needed wanted him badly.
once you gave eren the green light that he can come over he was there in less than fifteen minutes and had you butt naked on your bed in less than five.
“keep your legs up, baby” eren instructs and u do as he says. you lift your legs up, locking your arms around them to keep them in place. eren begins to kiss all over the lower half of your tummy and slowly trails down to your pretty pussy. his kisses are so sweet, slow, and sensual that is has your toes curling in the air.
“mmm ren..f-feels good” you mutter out while letting out soft moans. eren hums, which sends a little vibration into you. eren knew u were close, even if u didn’t tell him u were. he was always so good at reading u like a book, but for now he decided to play dumb by pulling away and pretending like he didn’t know why u let out that little grunt when he did. before you can question why he stopped he starts rubbing on your puffy clit while looking into your eyes.
“y/n, i really am sorry that i didn’t come to you the other day. i don’t know what i was thinking princess, you think you can forgive me?” eren coos at you, with a little smirk on his face that goes unnoticed by you since your head is in the clouds with the way he’s rubbing on you. when he doesn’t get a response he slaps your pussy, earning a loud whine from you. “you didn’t answer me my love. you forgive me?” he asks again. “y-yes eren…i-i forgive you!” u hardly manage to let out.
eren smiles at you before he gives the lower half of your stomach another wet kiss. he moves his head back down so he can start making out with your pussy again. he’s being so sloppy with it but lord it feels so good. you try to push eren’s head away but he doesn’t let up and instead starts adding two of his long digits into your wet pussy while eating it.
you had no more strength left in your body to push his head away with the way he was eating and fingering your pussy. “erennnn im so closeee!!” you whine. and just when you were about to have your release, eren stops. he lifts his body up so he can sit down straight on the bed and he looks down at ur trembling body and just laughs.
“rennn what are u doing…?” u question quietly. eren rests his large palm on the right side of your cheek “i’m glad you forgive me, but you know…” he pretends to think for a moment, “i never got an apology from you for telling me what to do and you know i hate that bossy shit” his hands slides up to your neck and he gives it a little squeeze just enough to make you cough a bit. you rest ur smaller hands on top of eren’s, mentally hoping that you can make him forgive you and he’ll forget about all this and just make you cum.
“r-ren i swear i wont do it again im really sorry i-“ eren cuts you off and leans down to press a quick kiss onto your lips that were now swollen from you biting on them previously. he lets go of your neck and gives you his signature annoying (but sexy) smirk and god you wished you could slap that stupid look off his face, but you’re in such a weak state right now from how he was eating you out </3.
“show me how sorry you are and maybe i’ll think about forgiving you, sound good princess?”
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buckyhad · 5 months
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Guys my age
Pairing: Sebastian Vettel x reader x Charles Leclerc
Tw: cheating, allegation to smut
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Charles Leclerc, an amazing driver, after just one year in formula 1, he got to drive for the red team, his dream, Ferrari. Showing his talent and driving was everything ge wanted to do, at least thats what it looked like to you, his girlfriend.
Always running behind him, cheering for him and doong everything to help when he had his bad moments.
But now that he was in this new spotlight, living his dream, you felt forgotten, like an outsider on your boyfriend's life.
You tried to ignore it, as hard as you could. But it came to an end that day you didn't pass that exam that was so important on your career.
2019, after the qualyfication for the Monza GP, you knew you couldn't say anything, Charles was on pole position, in fucking Italy, Ferrari's home.
While he was out celebrating with the team, you stayed behind on the garage, sulking on some random corner, wiping your tears after checking your e-mail.
"Fuck" you mumled as you saw the german driver watching you with raised eyebrows while making his way towards you.
"Why is it with all the tears?" He asked.
"Just failed an exam, nothing big" you tried to shrugg it off.
"It is big, its making you upset" Sebastian said while reaching to put a comfortable hand on your shoulder.
"I know, I just dont want to ruin Charlie's day, he's so happy"
"He can be happy while being herr for you, that's not an excuse"
That was the first interaction of the weekend, the second one, the night after the race, after Charles won the race.
Hiding away in some table while your boyfriend was drunk and happy, while you were drunk and sad.
"Sad and alone again?" The older guy said.
"Yeah" you sighed.
"That's a shame, Charles should be taking better care of you" he choose to put his hand on your tight this time, giving a squeeze.
"Yes, he should be doing that" you said parting your legs a little more, revealing your panties to him.
"Come with me, I can take really good care of you".
"Okay".
Swimming through the crowd reaching for your boyfriend, feeling kinda off for what you were going to do, but you got your needs too.
"Charlie? Im going to the hotel" you said.
"Okay, see you there" he said trying to kiss you but failing in his drunken state.
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The ride back to the hotel was quiet, weird and quiet.
Till you reached the german's room.
His kisses were hot and wet, making your braing fuzzy and warm.
"Fuck Seb" you whimpered between kisses.
"I'm going to take such good care of you, you would never want to come back to his side, going to ruin you for him" Vettel said.
"Do it, please, please Seb"
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"Charles" Sebastian called his teammate.
"Seb" he said giving him a greeting hug "I didn't see you last night".
"I was taking care of something" he chuckled, making the monegaaque raised his eyebrows "talking of that, you should take better care of your girl, mate. I always see her alone" he patted Charles' shoulder before resuming his path, leaving a confused Leclerc, thinking again about that hickey on your neck.
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CS55/OP81 LH44/GR63
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A/N: this is short, rushed and not proof-readed so probably bad af but I just NEEDED to get this out of my head. Would yall like a second part?
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azure-cherie · 9 months
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𝑷𝑨𝑪 : 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒕 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇
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Pile - 1-2-3
Please choose with your intuition. Only take what you can relate to as this is a general reading
🕊️Masterlist
🕊️Paid services
❦︎𝓟𝓲𝓵𝓮 1:
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Hii dear pile 1 I hope yall have been well . No matter how much you like to be in the shades or how much you are of an introvert , did you know that you make n excellent leader , that under your guidance, finest of the lillies shall bloom . You might think that you ar a thinker but my dear , your gut feelings are stronger and lead you better , you better start acknowledging them , don’t lose your command on who you actually are , your gift can save you . You're well balanced , being a little more organised is something you really wanted to be for a long time, and you don’t have to sabotage yourself thinking youre not already , you are really doing good and you will continue to do it , sometimes its okay to leave room for unpredictability . You sometimes feel scared of things , get into the depth of this matter , is this coming from an older thought you have . Are you letting go of an important material prospect excusing saying its because you have been spiritually involved . For ex : even though you have to save up for the month , you tend to buy weed , just an example tho . Youre going towards something coz you think you like it , in this case it might be a relationship , but do you seee this person reciprocting or are just going mindlessly into the abyss , spirit wants you to take some time and evaluate your choices . Please don’t sabotage yourself into thinking that your struggles are less than anyone elses , recognise and accept that you have toxic parents and that life can go wrong . You bring people with so much clarity about themselves , like you are a start for spiritual awakening for people .you might have suffered a great loss and might be lowkey right now , but to lt you know , these people hold no grudge and judgements and they already love you , think youre confident and outgoing , this applies for family and close friends .
❦︎𝓟𝓲𝓵𝓮 2 :
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Hii dear pile 2 I hope yall have been well. You right now might have been isolated because you confronted someone for their ill doings , you did what should be done and it has left you alone and you might be confused about what has happened and why , but don’t worry this thing that has occurred is a building block to what you are becoming in the near future. You are really a loyal friend , do not worry about what others say or do. Youre very abundant and you draw so much inspiration from everything around you , what others don’t see , you see , you do it so well . You might be overusing your resources , to a point where you could face problems so be head on about where and how you are spending your money . You're intuitive , you might be a witch , someone from your blood line was one , you are also blessed with those powers . They try to give you signals through your dreams , learn to see the meaning behind those common looking words . You have achieved a lot , almost to the point of satisfaction , now you want to call people over and celebrate so mote it be you are a party girl and its amazing . Youre analytical , perfectly intelligent and logical and at times you feel shy to accept compliments but that’s just who you are so accept and cherish it . Lastly I get you might be obsessing over something and ignoring whats already there , already handed to you , don’t loose what you have because of a delusion .
❦︎𝓟𝓲𝓵𝓮 3 :
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Hi dear pile 3 , hope y'all have been good . You don’t know that youre in love , because of something that has happened in the past has lead you to close your heart , youree beautiful but broken , but I don’t see that as being much of a concern for you right now as youre very slef assured and satisfied with what you do , a change is necessary . For the other lot of you , this is a confirmation for you to get married , yes the love has carried on , don’t be afraid of commitment . You have a very good communication style and people value what you have to say . I also get that some of you might be dissociating bad, like not realising that something has happened to you , being one of those people who shut themselves when something happens to them . Open your eyes youre not what they made you , you will be what you choose to be , you think the damages are irreversible but you got a long way to go , chin up bestie . You have achieved my dear you must treat yourself with something , maybe velvet cake or cheese cake , that’s what I get specifically . Take a break and leave for a vacation alone you have worked so hard already . Some of you here are starseeds , indigo children , you should connect to your soul family , they are always rooting for you . If you are a person who stays in the middle of arguments in work area , its okay that doesn’t give you less personality , infact you are benefitting by being in the middle as most of the people in your work place are too opionated or too judgemental . Your focus should definitely be you always.
Thank you so much for reading i hope this resonates
love love 💕
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steleir · 18 days
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sick of these posts yet? well too bad. i’m not done not when me along with some of my moots keep discovering more and more disgusting shit adults get away on this play for which is not ok.
i know a lot of people with disagree a lot on this one more than the others because in here i will put screen shots from someone’s blog and i don’t wanna see no anon in my inbox go “you can’t do that” well if i need it to show you how disgusting someone is and the people defending them are, how weird their posts are then i don’t care if i can’t or not.
thank you to @satorisoup and @omitea for providing me with these screen shots.
and lastly, report me, hate, block, un follow, i don’t care what drama this brings. i don’t care if i loose respect from moots or followers, this is something. i wholeheartedly believe is wrong, and im willing to loose this blog for it.
where do i even begin with this one?
maybe i’ll just start on why writing smut for minors is wrong.
first of all i gen see it as borderline pedophilia.like call that exaggerated this character looks like a minor. because they are a minor. “aging them up” is still them as a minor.
and i hen dc if your not going along with the manga. this character needs a CANNON time skip for this shit. sure, aging up is common, even in fluff, but that’s different. most fluff writer are minors themselves, they aren’t ADULTS writing PORN for MINORS. see the difference?
aging up is all imaginary, this character is still a minor.
and iv even seen people go as far as aging down adult characters. like thats just as a bad?? tf is wrong with yall???
a minors is not to be specialized, even if the manga artist does, why are you?
“well it’s not real”
warm i don’t give to flying fucks. it’s a problem whether you like it or not. their MINORS. need i say it again? MINORS.
now beginning with the screen shots i’m goin to start with these:
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look at these. bakugo is 16. itadori is 15? who i t heir right minds commissions this as a person in their 20’s? especially the itadori one.
he’s 15 and your imagining him stuffed in your boobs? like hello? do you not see how wrong that is?
oh and also look at them? do they look aged? NO. FUCK NO. they still look like the do in the anime. and in the anime their MINORSSSSSSS.
i have no words for this one tbh. just fucking digusting.
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i love how the creator saw this message and because they literally CANNOT defend themselves they post it. mot probably expecting a defense from their followers and moots.
look at the things underlined. this girl has many good points. but what did the creator do? ignore. not at all address what she said. simply laughing when in all honestly, she is the laughing stock.
shes over 25 years old obsessed with a 16 year old.
someone who is under the legal age.
a person who cant consent for themselves. “it’s fiction” erm idc.
“the is own has me rolling” girl go get a life. the person who sent the message is more than right. and you know that.
but your so fucking weird to the point you can’t let go of a character nine years younger than you.
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this replies are so fucking funny.
every one of them talking about the fact she kink shamed or the insults she used but not at all addressing her point.
notice that? none of them had an answer. non of them tasked about the fact this girl point out the fact this over 25 yo was a hypocrite and literally a pedo.
why? because they are all immature adults who are blinded by hot MINOR CHARACTERS. these characters are not for you. sorry to break it to you.
these MINORS were not made for your digesting piss fantasies.
“she kink shamed after saying she wouldn’t!!” go cry to mommy kink shaming is no where near as bad as writing porn for a minor.
now, i’m not in the mha fandom. but i’ve watched some of it, and you have most of the villains AND the pro hero’s to simp for. why the fuck are you choosing the students? like girl. bffr.
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that entire message and alll that anon cared about was the smut with a piss kink the person was talking about?
like? i can’t even.
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notice the fact she ain’t addressing what the person who sent her the message sent?
why? because she obviously knows it’s wrong. she obviously knows. every adult on here knows.
but they are head empty that they laugh it off and brush it off bcs the person is a minor and still attending school so it really dosent matter what we say.
like us minors aren’t idiots. and bye the looks of all these posts it seems we have WAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY more common sense than all of you combined.
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tetsutits · 2 years
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cw ;; ab riding ushijima ... that is all. fem! reader. called baby one time. look away yall you dont see anything here
not proofread at all,, also HI HQ fandom im back - masterlist
nsfw minors dni.
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“i wanna try something new tonight,”
ushijima pauses from where he sits under you, eyes peeking up with interest--silently telling you to go on while his large hands knead the flesh of your hips.
you look away sheepishly, embarrassed of what you're about to ask him. there's a persistent urge crawling up your spine, and your core aches with need, "i... i wanna ride you,"
his brows furrow in confusion. why would you ask him? you both already know where this night is going, and you've definitely made it clear to him when you crawled into his lap and placed your lips square against his.
"okay," he says flatly, face void of any expression--it wouldn't be the first time you'd ride him. "you can if you'd like."
the grip you have on his shoulders tightens, nails digging into the muscled flesh.
"yeah, but..." you shake your head slightly, unable to meet his eyes, and instead choose to fiddle with your bottom lip before you utter your next words.
"i... wanna ride your abs."
you think you've fucked up--because he completely stops moving, mouth agape, and his eyes are wide with shock. what makes it even worse is that he doesn't say anything back, completely silent as he processes your words.
"or-or not!" you blurt. "we don't need to do that! really, you can just ignor-"
"okay." he cuts you off.
you're stunned into silence, completely thrown off by his answer, because no - you didn't expect him to be so okay with your dirty desires. and you certainly didn't expect him to agree to try something new--right in the heat of the moment.
when you first started dating - he had some experience with random hookups and one night stands; he's told you that it wasn't much of a priority for him to sleep with someone every weekend. and while you weren't much stunned by the news -being the freak you are- you definitely felt like you had to hide yourself while being intimate with him - not wanting to make him uncomfortable with your sexual fantasies.
but now you're being stripped of your clothes, quick hands ridding you of your top and bottoms - there isn't much more said between you two when you shove him so he's laying down on the couch and the top of his hoodie over and up to his chin.
he angles your bare pussy over his abdomen, already glistening with slick and need. your hands find purchase on his well-built chest, using him to control your movements as you slowly sink down.
"oh, fuck," you hum at the immediate contact. he watches you with eager eyes, hands resting atop your thighs.
and it's so hot seeing him like this - sweat beading at his forehead and at the skin of his chest. his abs -just like every other part of his body- look like they've been sculpted by the gods to perfection. you'd mistake him for a greek statue if you didn't know any better.
"toshi-" his large hands grip the back of your ass, pushing you and grinding you even further into him. "a-ah, shit,"
your eyes roll to the back of your head as you lose yourself completely to the pleasure--your mind numb, body moving over the thick ridges and indents of his muscled skin.
'...you look so good using me like this," he breathes, snapping you out of your hazy state.
you laugh softly, "can't believe we've never done this before,"
your clit nudges back and forth between the valleys of his abs--stimulating you perfectly, the built up wetness makes it even easier for you to slide over his skin.
you note that its not rough--nor is his skin soft, its the perfect texture for you to use. its not overbearing--rather soothing in someway. you think he was absolutely made for you to ride.
the little happy trail that leads from his bellybutton to his hard cock tickles your cunt, the small hairs shamelessly coated by your juice. it sends shocks of pleasure up your body, and it has you moaning his name over and over.
"that's it," he pants, greedily helping you move, he watches the way your face contorts in pleasure, how your mouth is open, how your tits slightly bounce with every nudge of your hips.
he thinks he's never seen you prettier than you are right now.
"use me, baby. use me all you want," he whispers, looking up at you, knowing that your dancing at the edge of the cliff of your orgasm.
"ah-! fuck there!" you whine, and at the last grind of your hips, you're cumming straight on his abs. thighs twitching, head thrown back as you see stars behind your eyes.
he guides you through your high, strong hands remain on your flesh as he moves you back and fourth repeatedly.
you let out a heaving sigh, and slump into his muscled form. "fuck...you remind me everyday why i love your abs,"
his arms wrap soothingly around your shuddering frame, petting your hair, "only my abs?" he teases.
you look up at him from where your head rests on his chest, "all of you," you giggle, hand traveling down to where his hard and aching cock sits in his sweats.
"mostly your cock, though."
--
this got me out of my writing block. just thought ya'll should know jdbxb reblogs and feedback always appreciated !!!! <3
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kastelixa · 3 months
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Instead of posting pointless callouts, use your brains.
tldr: some of yall need to learn what a fucking block button is
Genuinely what is so hard about pressing the block button? Like omg I promise no one cares about your fuckass callout posts or rants. Like some of these people are embarrassing as hell. If you get triggered by shit on the internet, it’s YOUR decision on wether or not you want to interact or block and move on with your life. Like brother, i’m not going to throw a fit and freak out over some post that just so happened to contain weird shit on it. You know what I do? I MOVE ON WITH MY LIFE. Because I got better shit to worry about than some random ass fic on tumblr.
You like ddlg? Cool. Doesn’t hurt me or anyone, I don’t care. You like incest? Good for you! You like noncon? Okay! Like do y’all see how easy it is to just smile and nod? Trust, policing what people post and enjoy, is not going to change shit. It’s just annoying as fuck. People pick and choose, because some of the shit you all consume wouldn’t be considered normal either, going by what you all say.
According to all of your logic, blood kinks, knife kinks, gun kinks, piss kinks, and etc. should not be normalized either. Murder shouldn’t be written about, especially gore. Which is fucking moronic, considering how RE is built on violence and gore. Please, learn how to separate fiction from reality.
Many people are fans of iconic slasher films and horror movies. Michael Myers is a rapist and a murderer. But guess what? No one CARES! Because he’s not REAL. I could go on with so much more examples, but you should get the point by now. Hopefully. Dark content is everywhere, why is it now that it’s weird? Makes no fucking sense.
I get that some of you don’t want your precious white boy’s image to be tainted or defamed or whatever, but trust, Leon Kennedy is not reading these fics nor would he care. ‘He’s not a rapist or into incest!’, well he also wouldn’t call you ‘sweetheart’ or whatever cheesy bs fluff fics contain nowadays. But that’s the whole point, isn’t it? It’s all OOC. We KNOW he’s not a horrible person or an incredibly affectionate lover, but people write whatever they want. And no one’s going to stop them! Not the posts clogging up the tags or the weird asks.
There’s so much more, but the main arguments that keep being repeated are ‘it’s weird’ and ‘if you write about it, you’re probably going to do it in real life’. That take is so fucking stupid I can’t help but laugh. Same bs as white moms claiming their son is going to shoot some place out just because he plays violent video games. The whole point? SEPARATE FICTION FROM REALITY. And if you don’t like something? IGNORE IT? Why are you willingly engaging like omg are you stupid or dumb.
OH AND. ‘kids could see this!’ When will you all learn that no matter what you do, you cannot control what a person sees or decides to interact with. Especially minors. I’m willing to bet half of a smut writers followers are minors. Guess what? People lie all the time, about their ages and whatever else. It’s the fucking internet, of course they do. It’s not the responsibility of the blog owner to take care of children. The most they could do is plaster a big fat MDNI on their blog, that’s it. It’s the job of the parents to control what their kid watches or consumes, and we can’t exactly help with that. So don’t pretend to gaf about minors like omg.
Anyways. I’m too lazy to continue writing like I just needed to say this because some of you are slow. Me and many others are going to continue to write whatever the fuck we want. In conclusion? Block if you don’t like it LMAO. I don’t care about what some rando has to say on the internet.
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lingeriae · 9 months
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I can't stop thinking about how choso would deal with you if you had caught attitude w him....
like imagine yall chilling an shit and you peep a girl tryna link up with him, or him laughing at some bitch message and of course choso would never cheat or do some dumbshit like that, but you still get upset. huffin and puffing about the place, ignorning him while he's tryna talk to you, kissing your teeth and rolling your eyes after him, and this man would be sitting down wondering why tf you acting out but choosing not to say nothin thinking you just in a mood or smth.
his last straw would be you making plans o o places without telling him, like he's laid out on the bed, shirt riding up showing his happy trail and shit, and you just bust out of the bathroom after taking forever in their.
short shorts on, a crop top that made your titties spill out, your edges laid ASF and lip gloss poppin. choso woulld lift up his head eyeing you while licking his lips before asking where yall going. now you would side-eye him before replying with a mouth full off sass.
"IM going out with my homegirls, you can stay here and talk to them lil hoes in your phone, fuck ass nigga."
now you would mumble that last part thinking your slick but best believe papi choso heard that shit and was right on your ass. my mans would sit up so fast looking you up and down asking you what the fuck you just said only for you to keep them pretty lips pursed trying your best to ignore him. he woud get up and walking to you, getting all up in your space wrapping his hands around your throat as he looked at you with low lidded eye, that shit was enough to have a teardrop sliding down your leg.
and yall know choso's voice is fucking deep, so imagine him all up in your face telling you bout how he's gon fix your attitude, your clothes coming off immediately and your pretty ass being bend over the bed.
he would spank that pretty ass for you, making sure to rub it after each strike and making sure you were telling him just how sorry you were and how you promised to be good for him next time and he'd say something like "yeah, that's right mama, gon make sure you never pull some shit like that again." and after that he'd fuck you so hard you'd forget the reason you even caught an attitude in the first place.
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2-dsimp · 4 months
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can u write something for yandere armin? like what if his darling actually liked him back but then ppl are gossiping about him visiting Annie and still having feelings for her? this hurts darling bc she never forgave Anine and maybe her sibling is dead bc of the female titan so she just kinda stops talking to armin???
@laughing-with-god these were catching cobwebs in my drafts but it’s finally here (^◇^;)
————/———-/——————————-/—————-
Cw: Unhinged Armin! Fem! Reader, suicidal mentions, manipulative tendencies, yandere tendencies, obsessive behavior, mutual pinning
————/———-/——————————-/—————-
Is she ignoring me?
Armin questioned.
Watching you longingly from afar underneath the bangs of his long blonde hair, he began to overthink about what went wrong between the two of you. The rumors that kept circulating his mind about how you also had feelings for him. Was driving him insane with all the conflicting emotions in his weak heart.
Doesn’t she feel the same way? But if that’s true then why…?
If the rumors are true then why’re you avoiding him? The day before the both of you were in the library leisurely reading books sitting next to each other as if you were connected by the red strings of faith. The atmosphere was so blissful a lovely distraction from the chaos in a world that seems so hopeless.
But now he’s witnessing you ignoring his existence entirely almost as if he didn’t exist in your heart to being in with. And that made him anxious with insecurities running rampant until it turned into twisted delusions.
Has she found another?
No, that can’t be! What do I do? I can’t let her go. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her—
“Hey did yall hear about what’s happening between Armin and Annie?”
A distant voice snapped him out of his obsessive train of thoughts, and he automatically tuned into the conversation of gossip stemming from a group of scouts.
“Duh everyone knows that those two will hook up eventually, but my heart goes out to that girl who had a crush on him.”
Another voice chimed in with a slight huff of pity going out to you.
“Yeah, hasn’t Armin always had the hots for that Titan girl? I heard that he went to see her last night at the stables”
Armin went rigid at the mere mention that he would choose that abomination you utterly despised over you. Calming himself he couldn’t help but let out a tiny sigh of relief realizing that it was not as bad as he originally thought. Although, he did have an encounter with her, trust me when I say that it was far from that of a friendly front.
Now that he had a clear vision of the situation, he knew exactly what he needed to do to mend the bridge between him and his darling.
Him being all nice to Annie was just a facade to get her guard to the lowest crumbling point. The woman was already running on a half life carrying the guilt of her past warrior self. He pretended to be empathetic towards her, feeding the flames of her innermost desire to end it all by stating that she had suffered long enough by the hands of fate. And that as a former ally he’d assist in making sure she had a nice send off straight to hell.
And eventhough He knew it was wrong of him to enjoy the simpering thought of how jealous you were at the mere inkling idea that he was interested in Annie. He couldn’t help the excitement drumming along in his heart at how that was a sign of your apparent love towards him. A telltale sign of how you wanted him.
He nearly got weak in the knees at the vision of you and him getting together as a loving couple. Especially since he knew that his goal was within reach, all he had to do was set the plan in motion. In few days time you’ll soon see how much he truly loves you, and how much he’d be willing to be your faithful companion.
And what better way to show it, by giving you the chance to get revenge on the traitor you loathed with all your being.
With that in mind Armin quickly headed towards your quarters, his steps becoming upbeat with a small hopeful smile on his face while he daydreamed about you rewarding his efforts with a kiss.
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botlabyrinth · 3 months
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ok i’m thinking many thoughts stick with me here yall
“power and glory and nothing else matters.”
and “olympians fight. we betray. we backstab. we will push anyone down a flight of stairs to get ahead.”
this is the essence of the gods’ way of thinking. which is why sally says about percy that:
“i want him to know who he is, before your family tries to tell him who they want him to be.”
she doesn’t want percy to be like that. she doesn’t want him to be ruthless and willing to hurt anyone just for personal gain. she wants him to be considerate and human and kind.
and now throw in annabeth saying: “it’s easy to forget what’s important when you’re alone.”
and how the gods, in a way, are alone. they are immortal, disconnected from humanity, millions of years old. they lose touch of what’s important because of their immortality.
and guess who else is alone. luke.
luke doesn’t get to figure out who he is before he’s thrown into the demigod world. he loses his mother, in every way that matters, so young. he gets thrown into being on the run, into fending for himself, into going to camp. he sees the way the gods are and he turns angry as a result. and in doing so, luke becomes who the gods would want him to be. “power and glory and nothing else matters” is what is eventually luke’s whole motive. he may have the same intentions as percy: to bring justice to demigods, to help the unclaimed, to get their parents’ attention. but he doesn’t go about it the right way. he does it the way the gods would. he lets kronos tell him who he should be. he chooses violence and anger and wants to take down the gods entirely. get rid of everything, good or bad, and let kronos take over.
but percy, because his mom didn’t send him to camp so young, does get to figure out who he is. he learns about unconditional love. he learns that there is more to life than power and glory. he isn’t that way. he’s better than that. because sally didn’t send him to camp at a young age. because he got to figure out who he is before the gods could tell him who they want him to be. because he has that humanity, that unconditional love, that support from sally. he still has the same idea as luke: the gods shouldn’t be allowed to birth a bunch of children just to ignore them and leave them to fend for themselves. but he is never swayed onto kronos’s side. he doesn’t think the destruction of the olympians is the answer to solve that. he works to dismantle the broken system. instead of taking immortality as the reward for saving olympus, he uses his reward to force the gods to swear that they will be different. that they will stop leaving their kids to fight for themselves. he does this because of his humanity, because of sally jackson. because he doesn’t become who the gods want him to be. because his mother raised him right.
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etheries1015 · 4 months
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Yk throughout Lilia's past thing I wonder why in the old OLD wars people don't use verbal bullying as a weapon- Killing is already included in physical bullying so why not go all out?
Imagine past Lilia with this one friend aka you who fights the annoying humans with money, curses, and (out of pocket) words instead of the traditional going to war way. Verbal bullying can reduce the enemy's morals (probably).
"Instead of worrying about our MoRaLs, why don't you start worrying over YOUR DRIER THAN THE AFTERGLOW SAVANNAH SCALP"
"Our ruler's temper isn't too good, but that kingdom's ruler is bad tempered AND ugly"
"If yall didn't stink so much, maybe the faes wouldn't have found you so easily"
Also
You: You should watch your steps, the floor of this mansion is slippery after all :)
Enemy: Is that a veiled threat?
You: What veil?
People say that the place where faes live are surrounded by thorns, but you have thorns in your mouth ;)
NO BUT THIS IS SO FUNNY. Instead of using your incredibly impressive fighting skills (Lilia has seen firsthand) you first choose the most outrageous and...unique insults and strategies he had ever heard and seen his entire life. Sometimes Lilia can't tell if you are truly affected by the fighting, or if you had gone simply insane and cannot feel complex emotions; numb, to be frank. Upon asking you such questions, In response you shared to your comrades; "Some people cope by sadness and despair, others cope by humor and lightheartedness. I choose the latter- for I would rather live my life smiling at the most ridiculous of things than sit in a puddle of my own tears and trauma."
Thus, you delve deep into the theatrics as a way to distract yourself from the true horror of things.
"Dang, you really went to war looking like THAT? Even I would pity you, and that says a lot!"
"You have the intelligence of a soggy piece of bread! Didn't you hear ANYTHING about subtly?"
"Oh yeah, you're definitely first to die in any scenario. You check all the boxes. I'm surprised you haven't managed to kill yourself by now! Congrats!"
"You're living proof that you do not need to be funny to be considered a clown!"
"damn, human AND ugly? Pick a struggle, to have both is truly a crime!"
I imagine that this MC really enjoys distracting people with long winded prologues or speeches. With fake tears in their eyes, sobbing in front of a wave of humans with their arm up to the sky-
"I would like to thank my mother for this grand opportunity, my pet snake, and my dear beloved and far too soon departed friend Lilia-"
you hear from a distance an annoyed fae yell "I'm not dead!"
you ignore him.
"And to all of you, my grand audience, for granting me this wonderful chance to demonstrate what it truly means to be ignorant."
Confused glances around the humans- before collective screaming as they are all falling into a pit that you lead them to. Lilia catches up to you and stares at the handful of human soldiers who fell into your trap with hands resting on his hip and raised eyebrows, glancing over at you impressed.
"Clever, yet...strangely obtuse. Good distraction, it's almost embarrassing to call you one of our strongest generals with your antics..." He hummed before his face taking a flat and annoyed look as you reveled dramatically in his praises.
"Why can't you be normal."
Reader being incredibly childish yet super clever like Clavis from ikemen prince and the personality of Furina from Genshin impact SDLOIHLJ
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