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#in the fucked up sense. they make me ill. their relationship is so fucked up it's intriguing
12neonlit-stage · 4 months
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P5//: The bitter taste of betrayal can still be felt in your mouth
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morethanwonderful · 9 months
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God Zhou Ying as a kid really is just. What if you were a child whose perception of reality was wildly different from every adult around you. What if you were constantly overwhelmed and overstimulated and focused on the "wrong" thing. What if you were always distracted by background details of the world that no one else ever noticed?
What if you were a child who sometimes dissociated from the reality around you? What if you regularly lost track of where you were and saw horrible things, and when you came back to yourself you were always scared and confused? And what if every adult that was supposed to take care of you was so scared by your dissociating that when you were at your most needy and helpless, all your caregivers fearfully ignored you and pretended they couldn't see what was happening?
Surely this is a situation that can only apply to someone magical.
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celestial-sapphicss · 8 months
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#so i just finished s1ep2 of the bear (i don't really get it so far but ok)#and there's this scene where the main character calls up his sister and tells her about the mental shit that has been happening with him uk#and like even though this feeling is always there but lile i can't help but feel like my life would have been so much better with a sibling?#like one id have good relationships with uk???#and ik ik found family and forming meaningful relationships outside is an option but like in this capitalistic individualist society? is it?#anyways that's not the point it's that there's always stuff no body in the world would get except people who grow up with you innit?#be it school or hometowns or families and it would have been nice to have someone help me not feel this complete overwhelmness all the time#and without me feeling like im exaggerating or thinking that the person would judge me or having to keep telling everything repeatedly#but then i think would that even matter when I am the one who's the problem and like can't work to form that connection with anyone?????#like i for the life of me cannot share anything beyond the surface level or without making a joke out of it#and it seems funny but i trivialise so much of the fucking shit that happens so obviously no one takes it seriously not their fault right?#and like how fair to my friends that i literally almost always been superficial and lowkey untrue with them in exchange for their honesty???#at this point i feel like i don't even know what i truly feel or truly am because whenever i look back at my past self im like wtf#idk most of the times it just feels like being 'stuck' in a glass container and me not 'letting' anyone in if that makes sense?#ik im being very annoying about it but im just so tierd of feeling like this its been a decade & its way too long to constantly feeling dead#and im so fucking stubborn in my sadness that i won't even go get help after years of crying about wanting it & now finally having resources#it's like this mental block which i can't seem to remove and i feel like even if i do get help ill still be untrue so what's the point!???#yeahhhhh anyways i'll delete this later i don't journal so tumblr will have to make do#vi.txt
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chisatowo · 1 year
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Watching videos essays abt political stuff is fun except for the fact that it's abt real life and it's not fun
#rat rambles#^ just finished a video essay abt trans stuff and is having a Moment™#Im ok just kinda emotional#and filled with rage abt everything ever but yknow when am I not#I rlyyy need to see if theres any lgbtq originisatons in my area#if theres one close enough maybe I could start vollenteering? idk#Im just anxious abt not being considered queer enough yknow the usual sorts dhndhdjhdjd#but honestly its more so abt my lesbianism since I have a very complicated relationship with ulit#like it makes me feel like if I bring up my acearo identity it makes my lesbianism less ~real~ somehow#like idk I wanna meet other queer ppl irl and I want more queer friends and I wanna be able to experiment with stuff#but idk why Im so scared abt the idea of having to explain myself#I know ppl probably wont care but ig Im just scared that if other queer ppl reject me then Ill have nowhere to go#or maybe itd go great and I could get a girlfriend like fuck man thats the problem xhdkgsksh#it could be the best thing thats ever happened to me but Im so anxious abt trying#Ive been so lonely and fuck man I dont trust myself to not let myself get trampled#sorry this got real personal real fast dhdkgdkdh again Im ok just emotional#now that I brought up the girlfriend thing tho I am going to be having gay thoughts while I shower so oops dhkdhkdh#idk Im still so unsure abt how I feel abt dating no romantic attraction asside like#again Ive never been able to experiment? and I also just dont know if theres anyone Id be willing to date in practice#like it might just be lonliness but it also could be me forming a stronger sense of self and better existing outside of relationships#and as such feeling more comfortable abt the idea of having more deep relationships with ppl even outside of dating and such#but again its all theoretical rn 😔#anyways I need to shower bro its so late#rat vents
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ashenberry · 2 months
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For your blorbos: apollo, TRUCY, jove, big man :3, the snakes from metal gear i cannot tell them apart i am so sorry, your ocs are all so blorbo to you as well but im on 30mg of weed gummy so i dont remember any of their names
God your so correct I do love all these characters an unnormal amount
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gibbearish · 7 months
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u ever have to back out of a drama explained video bc ur like. i agree that that person was in the wrong but the way youre presenting them is just unsettling
#like theres a difference between 'hey heres a breakdown of who waid what and what happened' and#'look at this zoo animal and what a freak they are for this freak thing they did‚ everyone point and laugh at them wherever they go forever#specifically if you put quirky music and a dramatic voiceover over a clip of someone having a screaming#breakdown in their car telling people to leave them alone i think thats uhhhhhh fucked up no matter what they did#and ppl will always be like 'well they could just log off so its fine' and its like a) didnt we learn in like elementary school that#cyberbullying is still real bullying#like to me that gives the same vibe as 'why didnt they just leave' irt abusive relationship if that makes sense?#like yeah physically they are capable of just logging off. physically they can choose to leave. but theres a lot more#that goes into it than just 'can i physically leave'#like. ppl who do abuse over the internet know how the internet works and know how to use#means other than ohysical strength to keep targets under their control#'if you dont respond to my messages whenever i send them ill kill myself. no i didnt directly say that but#i repeatedly messaged you at times i knew you had just gone to sleep faking suicide attempts making you feel#like its your fault for not being available to respond 24/7'#its 'youre the only person i can talk to about these things no one understands me like you. you are my whole support system and therefore#wholly responsible for my mental health#if you leave me ill have no one so you will be dooming me to fall apart on my own when i need support the most so you can never leave me'#its 'how can you break up with me right now knowing im feeling suicidal‚ its like you want me to kill myself‚ you did this deliberately bc#youre a bad person. my life depends on you staying with me and i will never not be suicidal#and even if i was you saying that would make me feel that way so you can never break up with me or youre responsible for me kmsing#im not saying thats at all the same as ppl taking drama too far and freaking out abiut stuff however i feel like a good portion of it#carries over specifically the fact that. they probably feel like they /have/ to stay logged in‚ to keep their drama public#they have to keep defending themselves and keep reading responses and keep going and going#plus like. of course its the big freakouts that get lots of attention and therefore get even worse#good or bad people like spectacle‚ you never see people calmly resovling disagreements because they.#get calmly resolved then everyone moves on and forgets it. so you only remember the wild ones#like esp for like. kids on tiktok#we all had meltdowns about petty shit at one point or another we just were lucky enough to grow up just before#social medias jumped over to video content so it doesnt have our faces tied to it#idk. i just think ppl should ask themselves 'how would i feel if an audience of thousands was watching my lowest moment like this'
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propertyofwicked · 4 days
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THIS IS US - LN
warnings: smut throughout!! MDNI!! unprotected sex, little bit of jealous!lando
snippets of lando and his girls sex life throughout the years of their relationship! <3 (can be read as a fewtrell!reader but it's not discussed)
masterlist the playlist
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the first time -
y/n remembered her first time with lando like it was yesterday. the two of them, freshly 19 and still friends at the time, found themselves cuddled up on the sofa in his and max’s shared house. their friends slept dotted around the house, many of them drunk and sleeping in the first place their body stumbled into.
there’d always been a sense of something more between the two, friends from a young age, attached at the hip. they were close, too close for friends, max would tell him constantly - raising his eyebrows every time he caught them wrapped up in each other on the couch, or when they entwined their hands at any given opportunity. everyone around them had given up trying to push the two together, hoping they would come to their senses soon.
their first time happened so naturally, it was quite sweet actually. her head resting on his shoulder, as they sat together, her eyes staring wide up at his face. it was that moment he decided to go for it, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her lips. he half expected her to push him off, but found himself pleasantly surprised when she kissed him back, escalating the kiss till she was straddling his lap.
“not here,” she remembered him whispering in her ear, pulling her up from his lap as he lead the two of them to his room. the two of them resuming there position on his bed, lando resting his back on the headboard, palms covering her waist as she hovered over his cock.
“-wait!” she panicked slightly, “i don’t know how to-”
“it’s ok, you’re fine. just breathe, ill guide you. go slow, yeah?” he reassured her. in the heat of the moment he had forgotten this was her first time with anyone, let alone him, and yet she’d decided to get on top.
y/n remembered lowering down on him, his grip on her hips allowing him to fill her slowly. lando distinctly remembered her shy moans, the way she tried to stay quiet, aware of the amount of people in the house.
“fuck me, angel. so tight,” he’d said, grunting slightly as she got lower, fighting to keep his hips still whilst she grew accustomed to the stretch, “last bit angel, you can take it.”
“there’s more?” she’d replied, panting slightly as he chuckled at her, “i can’t d-”
she remembered the way their eyes locked as he jutted his hips up into her, filling her whole. he remembered the way her mouth gaped open, and the way her head rolled back as his hands slowly rocked her hips over his length.
lando was gentle with her, kissing her softly throughout, his moans and praises merging together as she grew more confident, falling into a steady rhythm on top of him.
“i love you,” he’d grunted as his hands ran over her skin, trying to remember everything about her - the way she felt, the way she sounded, the way she clenched around his cock when she got closer. she reciprocated his sentiment, neither of them shocked at the revelation.
“you owe me a tenner,” max had said to niran the next day, after he’d found the two of them passed out in lando’s bed, smiling to himself.
getting caught -
the two of them gained more confidence with their sex life the following years. lando knew exactly what she needed, and how to make her fold for him. max had described the two as rabbits, going at it like no one’s business, laughing to himself as the trio constructed a new bedframe - the last one meeting its unfortunate ending when lando had taken out his stress on his girl. her legs had been over his shoulders when they heard a snap! and felt the mattress dipping into the broken slat. the paint on the headboard had long been chipped from the constant banging into the wall behind, and one of the legs was coming lose.
it had been mid-season, the two of them finding themselves in his drivers room after an unfortunate race. y/n had tried consoling him, but being comforting and supportive was not working at the time. he’d come round eventually and talk to her but for now, he had her pressed against the wall, her cheek pushed up against it. her skirt had simply been tugged up around her hips, panties to the side as he pushed into her from behind, roughly thrusting as he muttered curses under his breath. his hand was about to snake around her waist to toy with her clit when the door flung open.
“land- OH SHIT!” a voice had called out before dissolving into giggles, followed by the door slamming shut again. the shocked face of daniel ricciardo, followed by his distinct laugh, was something y/n was sure would never leave her brain. the interruption hadn’t bothered lando, the two of them were both covered enough for daniel to have seen too much, and so he took it in his stride, bringing them both to a finish soon after.
it had taken a while for y/n to look daniel in the eyes again without wanting to drop dead on the spot, her boyfriend simply smirked at the memory.
club, cameras, cars -
lando’s body was pressed up against hers, packed together in the busy club, their bodies moving in time with the beat. his hands stayed firmly on her waist, telling her it was so she wouldn’t get lost in the crowd, but realistically it had been his way of keeping her close to him. close enough that he could drop his head to hers, joining their lips together in a deep kiss. her tongue dragged along his bottom lip, before her teeth nipped at him, pulling away slowly to catch her breath. his hips grinding into hers, her hands running through his curls.
she was obsessed with him, his unbuttoned shirt, the way his necklace peaked through - she was feral for him.
he looked up momentarily, glad to meet max’s eyes, who directed him to the corner where a man similar in age was filming the interaction between the couple. he leant down to her ear again, so that she could hear him over the loud bass.
“someone filming us,” he told her, feeling her body tense slightly, “you wanna get out of here?”
she’d nodded at him. being filmed by anyone and everyone was nothing new for her, although she wished people would have some concept of privacy. it was somewhat infuriating, but she guessed that was the price she paid for loving the man in front of her. his eyes had softened at her, noticing her anxiety - she didn’t get anxious when people captured them driving around, or just living their normal lives. she did however when such intimate moments were filmed and posted on twitter for the world to see. people had strong opinions - strong opinions that they shared online all whilst hiding their own identities.
they walked next to each other, his hand clutching hers protectively as they said goodbye to max. a few cameras flashed as they walked towards lando’s car, the odd fan approaching him to sign something - they assumed someone had leaked where they were. it was these interactions she didn’t mind, the ones that didn’t make her feel like her whole life was being dissected by the media.
“’m glad max pointed him out,” he started as they climbed into the car, “don’t want to imagine how far i would’ve gone if he hadn’t.”
“you would’ve fucked me in the middle of a club?” she spluttered out, turning to stare at him as he pulled onto the main road.
“i’d fuck you anywhere, angel,” he replied with a shrug.
“you are the pr teams worst nightmare,” she joked, shaking her head at him again.
“hey!” he defended, “since when did loving my girlfriend become a crime?”
“it’s not,” she conceded, smirking to herself at her next statement, “the real crime is the fact you’re not pulling into that lay-by right now.”
“i- wha-,” he stuttered, taken aback at her boldness, “here? right now?”
“why not? there’s no one around.”
he didn’t bother indicating, pulling the car into the side lane, and hurrying to turn the lights off. his free hand adjusted the seat, rolling it back as far as it went before reaching over to grab the woman besides him. she clambered over the centre console, landing not-so graciously on his lap.
the whole interaction was messy and lacking in any decorum. his cock was deep inside her, stretching her out as he thrusted up into her. with every bounce her knees hit the side of the door or the centre console, sure to bring bruises to the skin from the sheer impact. she leant forwards into him, his hands trailing under her dress to squeeze at her breasts.
“baby, lean back a bit,” he had told her, desperate to see her face.
“lan, if i lean any further back im gonna hit the horn,” she said, still adjusting herself to lean up.
“you can hit my horn,” he retorted, giggling to himself at the childish joke.
“don’t make jokes when you’re inside me,” she begged, sighing at the man in front of her.
the counter -
y/n had remembered their move to monaco fondly, lando had been living there for a few months before she made the move herself. she recalled the heartfelt goodbye with her family and friends, her entire life packed into boxes and a suitcase as she moved to a country she’d never even visited. the move felt right, especially after 3 years together - 2 months of long distance was hard enough, neither of them could imagine spending anymore time apart. she’d set herself up as a small time content creator, working closely within quadrant to build up a sufficient income to support herself in between races. lando’s fans loved the snippets of domestic lando, but they also appreciated her wicked sense of humour and her biased insight on the world of motorsport.
once she’d settled into life at the new flat, traces of her personality dotted around, the woman found herself on facetime to her mum giving her a virtual tour.
lando had been out of the flat, spending his morning training, returning home sweaty but overjoyed to hear the sounds of his girlfriends voice travelling through their home. taking the opportunity to sneak up on her, he crept around the hallway, moving quietly towards the kitchen.
“praying my B in french GCSE is gonna come in hand- AH!” y/n yelped, almost dropping her phone as lando pounced on her shoulders, shouting boo! as he did. the older woman on the phone laughed as her daughters face went from startled to glaring at the boy behind her.
“i better leave you two be,” her mum had told them, smiling at the camera and waving slightly to the couple. the shock of her youngest child announcing that she was moving to a different country was wearing off gradually - the happiness of her daughter being with someone she’d secretly rooted for their entire childhood taking over.
“bye mum!” “bye y/m/n!”
y/n had placed the phone beside her, leaning back to rest on the counter. lando had fallen into her embrace, hands wrapping around her waist as he pressed kisses across her entire face. she leant into the kiss, joining their lips together in what had started so innocently. in what had started as such a wholesome day, talking to her mum about the new flat and spending time with the man she loved, quickly turned into something much more.
he’d soon noticed how the counter perfectly lined up with her waist, smirking into her lips as they kissed, before his hands twisted her waist, turning her by the hip until she was pressed up against the marble. her back arching as he bent her over, grinding her ass into him as she did. he’d tugged at her jeans, pulling them down her legs slowly, her lace panties following soon after. he’d allowed her a moment to step out of them, kicking her clothes across the kitchen floor, before kicking her feet further apart. his strong hand gripped her hip, stabilising her frame as he guided his cock through her folds, covering it in her slick before pushing himself into her fully. she moaned out for him, her hands searching for anything to grip onto for support, settling on wrapping around the coffee machine.
the counter pushed on her lower stomach, the pressure sending waves through her body as she tightened around him. he grunted at the feeling, his fingers finding their way to her clit, falling into a natural rhythm as he always did. lando knew her body like it was his own, he could map every bump, every scar, every freckle that adorned her skin. he knew where she needed him, and how.
“im gonna cum,” she’d whimpered pathetically, embarrassed at how quickly she fell apart for him.
“already?” he asked cockily, his hand landing harshly on her ass. lando took her moment of shock to run his hand up her back, his fingers settling at the base of her hair. he gripped at the roots, tugging her entire body back into his, her face settling next to his. he could hear the way she panted, the way his name tumbled from her lips like a mantra.
“always take me so well,” he moaned in her ear, exhaling as he did. the feeling of his breath hitting the skin of her neck sent her over the edge. she fell forwards, legs shaking beneath him.
lando’s hands moved back to her hips, holding her up so that she wouldn’t fall as he pushed her into the counter again. he thrusted into her for a minute more, his pace growing sloppier as he reached his own climax. y/n whined at him, overstimulated and sore - her noises short circuited his brain, and soon after he was filling her up, his cum leaking from the sides as he rode out his own high.
they panted together, lando pulling his cock out as they fought to catch their breath.
“how did we manage to fuck in the kitchen before our actual bedroom?” she chuckled, moving to grab her discarded clothes and shuffling towards the bathroom.
“never gonna be able to cook in here without thinking about this,” he replied with a shake of his head, as he followed her out of the room with a final glance at the counter. the coffee machine now skewed, water puddled around it from where she’d knocked the tank.
“lando norris? cooking? that’ll be the day the world spontaneously combusts,” she teased.
jealousy -
y/n had accompanied lando and max to the motogp event, finding herself in a deep conversation with someone she had hung around with during the karting days. she hadn’t expected to see him there, pleasantly surprised to catch up with an old friend who’d she’d spent a lot of time with growing up. she honestly saw no harm in it, lando and max had disappeared to film content of the day, so she saw no issue in speaking to him rather than sit alone, twiddling her fingers.
lando, however, was fuming not happy. he trusted his girlfriend in any situation, it was other men he didn’t trust, especially when he walked up to find y/n laughing loudly with a man he vaguely recognised.
“y/n, we’re leaving now,” lando told her, clenching his fists at his sides rather than taking her hand.
“oh- ok,” she replied, a little startled at his tone, “bye sam! was lovely seeing you!” she said to the man, turning on her heel to catch up with her boyfriend.
“lovely to see you!” lando mocked childishly when she rejoined his side, “yeah bet he thought it was lovely to see you.”
“what is your problem?” she asked, stopping short of the car, arms crossed over her chest.
“what’s my problem? you. him. the way he looked at you?”
“are you serious?” she asked, taken aback, “he’s an old friend lando. grow up.”
“grow up?” he repeated, “you don’t see me laughing like that with old friends.”
“whatever you do with old friends is not my problem, i trust you to make the right decision. but clearly, you don’t trust me,” she responded, marching past him and climbing in the back of max’s car.
the two barely spoke for days, the silence made worse by the fact they were stuck together in max’s spare room. y/n spent her days with P, lando with max - the other couple desperately trying to speak sense into the two of them, knowing just how stubborn they both could be.
y/n finally believed their spat was over when he settled between her legs, eating at her like a man starved. she was stubborn, but never too stubborn to pass up the chance of his tongue on her heat. his hands gripped at her thighs, his grip leaving bruises on her skin. lando’s tongue swirled around her clit before sucking at her harshly. she was so close, hands gripping at anything - his hair, the bedsheets, his hands. but then she felt nothing, only cold air against her desperate heat as lando pushed himself away and stood up to move across the room.
she sat up on her arms, staring at him in complete disbelief.
“what the fuck lando?”
“you know what you need to do if you wanna cum,” he’d told her, dark eyes staring back at her. he wanted an apology, she wasn’t going to apologise. she’d done nothing wrong.
“good idea, lan. ill see if sam’s free,” she shot back, leaning forward to grab her phone from the bedside table.
that had been her mistake. potentially too brave in the moment, y/n genuinely didn’t know if she regretted even alluding to messaging the man causing the couples squabble.
“i didn’t mean it!” she’d moaned out, feeling his hand slap against the skin of her ass harshly, the feeling sending shots of pleasure back to her core, before he rolled her onto her back once more. he freed his cock quickly, roughly thrusting into her with no warning.
“’m sor- m’sorry,” she said again, her legs pulled harshly over his shoulders as he fucked into her. he wasn’t even mad anymore, yet he rammed into her as if to teach her a lesson, as if he was literally fucking the attitude out of her. she moaned out loudly at the feeling, lando’s grunts like music to her ears.
“you gonna behave now?” he asked her, pace remaining relentless.
“i wi- will,” she choked out, “i promise.”
“good girl, that’s more like it,” he said, satisfied with her remorse as his fingers returned to her clit.
she came hard and fast around him, the tightening of her walls bringing him to his own climax. he pulled out slowly, rolling to lay next to her as their chests heaved in unison.
“you know i do trust you, right?” he asked, finally willing to talk to her about the argument.
“i know. i just wish you’d show it, rather than getting angry when i speak to any man.”
“im sorry,” lando apologised, pulling her into his side and pressing a kiss to her head, “im trying my best, m’trying not to let jealousy get the better of me.”
“thank you,” she offered him, “and ill try not to provoke you. even if it does result in the best sex of my life.”
he chuckled lightly, his breathing finally stable. but no quiet moment between the two would ever stay quiet for long.
“im glad you guys made up and that, but next time can you not be so loud?” max shouted through the door, making the couple blush as they realised they’d forgotten that he was home, “oh, and you’re cleaning those sheets.”
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afternines · 1 year
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#i mentioned this on twitter circle but i need to repeat myself here just cause i can#i am forever stuck in the befriending someone > getting obsessed with them > getting sick n tired of the obsession > ghosting them n ruining#our friendship cycle#like tell me why im on twitter friend 184726 and ive gone through the exact same process with each n every one of them#currently ghosting my latest friend and it makes me SO MADDSD cause i spent the last few months having brzakdowns in her dms abt how im#terrified shell get tired of me and well stop being friend and ill end uo alone again#and she kept comforting me saying that wont happen!!! shell stick with me forever!!!!! and here i am doing the ol switcheroo ghosting her#I AM AWARE that im so very in the wrong with this because she didnt do anything wrong its just like a switch in my brain clicked and i cant#even look at her username without getting nauseous n it makes me wanna kms bc i wanna dm her so bad but i physically cannot get myself to#do it#which is so stupid like. just fucking click the dm and type some words goddamn#i alr know im gonna lose her over this caus ethats how i lost everyone else too and it sucks so bad bc the problem is MEEEE yet i cant get#myself to fucking fix it#i genuinely dont know what to do#im so desperate to have good relationships with other people but every time i do i just end up sabotaging myself#and im so fucking self aware about it but i cant do anything about its like. staring at a zoo animal from behind the glass except the zoo#animal is also me and its jusr staring back at me with eyes full of anger because im also the person who got me captive behind the glass in#the first place#if that makes sense#n uhhh this is a conversation for another time but im gonna be forever craving and never getting a genuine romantic n intimate relationship#because of how i keep sabotaging shit#sev mentioned this at some point and i was like :(. like i was genuinely upset for them but just now it hit me in the same situation#like i fully understand sev im sorry it took me so long to realise#jesus fuck man. not having a normal brain really sucks
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ziracona · 1 year
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The Darkness really is the best song in the show.
#not musically. like as far as sheer Song goes it’s probably It Was A Shit Show or something but for like. emotion and rarity? I’ve never#ever seen someone confront that really ugly side to mental illness and it’s done so well. like yeah. it can become your identity to be ill#and you can fear losing it and it becomes a parasitic relationship that’s killing you and that’s not good and it’s hard to talk about —#almost impossible. because like. you /know/ how bad ‘what if without this I’m not interesting anymore and people have no reason to worry so#they have no reason to care about me’ is as a statement like that’s fucked up to think and feel. but it’s also not malicious or really you#it’s a part of being sick and people who haven’t been don’t understand it which makes it scary to try to confront and best because it makes#you sound so horrible—it makes you sound horrible to /yourself/ and that makes it hard even for you to confront it alone because you have to#admit it to kill it. I got so sick when I was dying of an ED and my brain got so fucked I began to believe with intense primal terror that#it had become so much of my identity nobody would care about me without it. which makes no sense but to a dying addicted head it did. and#I’ve never seen someone confront and discuss that ugliness so openly or so sympathetically at the same time. the line ‘for so many years ive#used the Darkness to feel. But now there are things in my life that are actually real. I’ve got to make a choice darling don’t ask me why.#But will I have the strength? to tell the darkness…goodbye…’ I cry.#it applies to a lot under that. to trauma associated with social neurodivergence where you learn to fear feeling happy as a kid because you#get loud or too much or things you don’t understand enough to not do them so the only way to be safe from repercussions is to not /be/ happy#in the first place. it applies to having clinical depression you’ve survived alone since childhood and your way of making it through life is#so intrinsically tied to coping with depression you have no idea what you’d be without it. it’s learned self-hatred of a cluster B needing#to hate themself to keep back the world flooding them when they feel at risk by doing it first#and it’s not pretty and it’s not easy but it is so fucking important people admit this is such a fucking common thing with serious mental#illness. how are we to get through self hatred and hopelessness and despair if we can’t even see the things we think are too bad to face are#as common a symptom as cutting? and just as curable and forgivable and not representative of who we are#god I love that song#crazy ex-girlfriend
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eoieopda · 8 months
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tidal.
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but vernon has a point to make, so that’s precisely what he does: “i don’t need a sales pitch. you will never — ever — have to convince me to fuck you.” 
pairing: vernon x afab!reader type: one-shot (fluff n’ smut) au: est. relationship wc: 4.8k rating: 18+ a/n: i didn’t plan this whatsoever, but i felt so weirdly compelled to write it that i avoided eye-contact with all of my wips, and now… here we are, lol. cw: pov switch, reader is afab + on their period, gender identity + pronouns aren’t designated, blood mention (obvi), unprotected p in v penetration (ill-advised!!), wee bit of dry-humping (ig?), a lil massage, pet names (baby, sweetheart), self-indulgent ref to a favorite docu of mine, and lastly — vernon (yes, this is a warning 🧍🏻) 🔞 MINORS WHO INTERACT WITH ME AND/OR MY CONTENT WILL BE BLOCKED, WHETHER OR NOT THE CONTENT IS NSFW. I’M AN ADULT WRITING EXCLUSIVELY FOR OTHER ADULTS.
Vernon isn’t blind. 
He can see you out of the corner of his eye, laying flat on your back, several unexplained centimeters away from his side. With the duvet clenched in your fists, you stare intently up at the ceiling, like you’re waiting for it to move — or trying to move it yourself, telekinetically. You keep your bottom lip pinched between your teeth, as if you expect it to make a run for it.
So, yes, Vernon can see you. 
He just can’t figure out what’s wrong with you.
For a few minutes, he attempts to pay attention to the documentary lighting up the screen on the wall ahead. You were the one that picked it — some wild tale about mother-daughter recluses in New York — and he finds it hard to give a shit about it without your usual commentary. Your hot takes are his favorite part of any movie night, after all.
He’ll be the first to admit that he’s never been good at keeping his eyes off you. Try as he might, he can’t glue his gaze to the television; each glance in your direction sticks longer than the one before it, testing the waters. Minutes slip away just like this until he completely caves, turns his head fully, and stares at you outright. 
You still don’t seem to notice.
His brow scrunches up as he watches you, caught in the middle between concerned, confused, and amused by how absolutely ridiculous you look right now. When he speaks, he tries to sound stern, like he isn’t fighting the urge to laugh.
“Baby?”
“Hmm?” is all he gets in response. 
You don’t even look his way. If anything, you tense harder now that his attention is on you. 
None of it makes sense. Not the weird gap you’ve left between your body and his, your total refusal to look him in the eye, or the fact that there wasn’t an argument to precipitate any of this distance. It’s a symptom with no apparent cause, and it’s totally baffling. Brain-breaking, even.
Frowning, Vernon scoots himself across the bed to get closer to you. 
You don’t reciprocate. 
He tugs gently at the hem of your sweatshirt in a silent plea for your attention and receives radio silence in response; unless he counts the way you swallow thickly.
Which, for the record, he does not.
This close, Vernon can feel the anxious energy pulsing out of your tensed-up body in waves, so he leans away and props himself up on his elbow. Desperate to know what broke you and how to fix it, he mutters, “What is happening right now?”
Ope. 
It comes out harsher than it was supposed to, reading more like annoyance than worry, so he immediately clears his throat. Gently and with a brush of his knuckles against your hip bone, he tries again: “Are you okay? Did I do something to make you mad at me?”
A fly on the wall might get the wrong impression and think he stroked you with a live wire instead.
“Oh, my god. No!” You sputter with a jolt, shifting gears quickly from vaguely on-edge to horrified. You shake your head so frantically that Vernon fears you’ll detach it. “No, you haven’t done anything. I’m fine, I just —”
He interjects with a laugh, “— I don’t necessarily believe that —”
Visibly cringing with every muscle in your body, you cover your face with your hands. Not long after you take a deep breath does a meek voice slip out through your fingers, sounding beyond embarrassed.
“I’m so incomprehensibly horny right now that I can’t even look at you.”
For a second, it’s dead silent because he can’t quite process how much of a weirdo you are, or how completely and hopelessly enamored he is with you. But then the dam breaks. His laugh comes out so forcefully that you pull your hands away from your face, eyes wide.
“Is that so?” He smirks, nodding his head towards the television. “Grey Gardens really gets your motor running, huh?”
Absolutely aghast, you swat at his bicep. Then, you sling your arm over your eyes and groan, “I got my period. It has turned me into a sex-crazed monster, I fear.”
Vernon nods in understanding, even though you can’t see it, and hums, “Ahh.”
And he leaves it at that, only because you seem to have more that you want to say. Something you want to ask, maybe, or a reason you may want to give for not jumping his bones at the first opportunity. He’s down, he thinks without hesitation, so long as you are.
But you don’t say anything.
Maybe you aren’t actually down after all, and that’s why you won’t look at him. Shit, are you embarrassed? Should I say something? Silence falls overtop like a weighted blanket, smothering the two idiots who can’t tell whose turn it is to talk. 
Do you or do you not want this right now?
You mumble something that he can’t catch, so he nudges your side gently with his knuckles to encourage you. Just as nervous, you repeat yourself without looking at him, “Period sex is supposed to help with cramps, I think.”
He thinks he’s read the exact same article you have. More than that, he wishes you’d look over at him and see for yourself how completely unbothered he is by this concept.
“If you think about it, it’s kind of like a natural lubricant,” you add in a voice that’s even smaller than before.
Your shyness really might kill him, so he reaches over to grab your hand and gently pull your arm away from your eyes. It’s the first time you’ve looked at him since you laid down — since you put your self-imposed no-contact order in place — and he feels his stupid heart swell.
For what it’s worth, he feels his dick twitch, too.
You open your mouth to speak again, likely to continue your unnecessary campaigning; Vernon is having none of it. He tugs your wrist just enough to tilt you inward, then he kisses you hard enough to shut you up. A tiny whimper slips out of your lips when he pulls away, and it almost makes him regret his decision to do so. 
But Vernon has a point to make, so that’s precisely what he does: “I don’t need a sales pitch. You will never — ever —  have to convince me to fuck you.” 
Your eyes crinkle at the corners, like this is somehow news to you. It shouldn’t be. He’s told you a thousand times in as many different ways how thoroughly crazy you drive him just by existing so closely to him, but maybe you didn’t take him seriously then.
To emphasize his point, he slips his hand under the hem of your sweatshirt and finds your bare waist with the pad of his thumb. It spirals slowly against your warm skin, making both of you dizzy. Then, sick of the distance, Vernon dips his head down to press a kiss to your temple. 
“Like, ever,” he murmurs, lips following the curve of your jaw. 
Soft, slow kisses trail behind him as he travels down to your lips. Your head tilts further backwards with every single one, providing him with more and more access. 
He states it matter-of-factly because, to him, it is. “I’m down so bad for you that it might be terminal.”
“Oh?” 
You try to laugh but turn to putty when his palm rests fully on the curve of your waist and pulls you flush against him. The surprised gasp you let loose confirms his suspicion: You can feel how serious he is, affirmation throbbing against your abdomen in time with his heartbeat. 
Vernon smirks to himself, relishing your reaction, and bypasses your mouth entirely. A moan escapes from you, soft like an exhale, as his lips move slowly down the length of your neck. Every so often — just to feel you shiver — he flicks the tip of his tongue along the delicate skin he finds there.
“It might be messy…” 
The rest of your needless warning gets lost in a dreamy sigh as he suckles at the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. Shifting even closer, your desperate fingers reach out and cling to his t-shirt.
Vernon licks a stripe over the galaxy blooming on your skin. He hums, hand traveling upwards from your waist, “Don’t care about a mess.”
And he means it. 
Mindful of any soreness, he smooths his hand over your left breast and massages it tenderly, swearing to himself that he’ll throw the whole fucking mattress out if that’s what it comes down to. For you, he’ll race across town on foot to buy another one, and — fuck it — if the store is closed, he might just break in.
You’re growing impatient; your fingers let go of his shirt and tangle themselves in his hair.
“So needy,” he chuckles low in his chest, teasing. “You know, I think you’re lying. I think it is this bat-shit insane documentary that’s driving you wild, and you’re too embarrassed to admit it.”
“Stop,” you whine, dragging out the vowel sound. 
You don’t, though; you throw your left leg over his right thigh and shimmy forward until your cunt grazes his dick. Involuntarily, he groans at the warmth radiating off your core. Every part of you drives him just the slightest bit insane. You seem to know it, he thinks as he watches your pupils dilate in real time.
But he can play games, too, so he rolls his hips forward and grinds against you. He pushes you further, “Don’t get me wrong, baby. I’m not kink-shaming you —”
“Hansol Vernon Chwe!”
Oh, shit. Government name?
“— I’m just a little surprised, I guess.” He sighs with a shrug. “Think you know somebody…”
Your impatience is scribbled all across your scrunched up face. It seeps into your voice when you crash back against the pillows and huff, “Can you please stop fucking with me and start fucking me?”
“Sex-crazed monster, huh?” Leaning over, Vernon punctuates his question with a quick press of his lips to yours.
You whimper, “I’m so serious. I might explode.”
“Then go take care of whatever you need to take care of.” He kisses you again, smiling so fondly that his eyes may even be twinkling. “And I’ll go get a towel.”
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You wait until Vernon clears the threshold before launching yourself out of bed at breakneck speed. Stumbling all the while, you race off to the adjoining bathroom and shut the door forcefully behind you. When it clatters against the frame, you finally admit to yourself that you might be a little bit eager.
Maybe.
Opting to keep your baggy, bleach-stained sweatshirt on, you wiggle out of your shorts and — what he refers to as — your crisis diaper. The high-waisted, frumpy, beige panties are utilized exclusively during your period, and to your surprise, they’ve remained spotless. It’s only ever the pretty and expensive pairs that wind up as collateral damage, isn’t it?
As they pool around your ankles, you can’t help but think that Vernon’s nickname for them is pretty spot on. That’s partly why you figured he might need to be talked into this. Unsated arousal aside, you feel as far from sexy as you can possibly get.
You shake your head to clear your thoughts, kick what you’ve discarded into a pile near the hamper, and let your sweatshirt shift down to cover as much of your ass as it’s capable of managing. You grab a square of toilet paper; then, you go to work excavating the wad of cotton that separates you from everything you want in this life. 
It is within the realm of possibility that you’re a little bit eager and a little bit dramatic. 
Perhaps.
After discarding the evidence in the small trash can under the sink, you wash your hands as if you’re about to step into an operating theater and not the bedroom you spend half your life in. When you finally feel sterile, you lift your head and catch your reflection in the mirror. Instantly, you make eye contact with the painful, hormonal pimple on your chin — the one you’ve been waging a retinoid war against for days.
“Bitch,” you mutter, like calling it names will be the one thing that finally gets it to shrink. Of course, your plan doesn’t work, but you feel a little less powerless. That’s good enough, you think. At least, as good as it’s going to get.
Now half-naked and certifiably unobstructed, you tiptoe back to your bedroom much more carefully than you left it. Vernon enters from the opposite doorway at the same time, jumping slightly the second he notices you. You ignore his frightened eyes and glance down at the crisp, white towel he’s clutching.
You open your mouth to suggest anything otherwise, but he beats you to it. His eyebrows shoot up his forehead as his mouth widens outwards, a self-aware rectangle. Otherwise expressionless, he lets go of an atonal, “Aaaaaaah”, that tells you he’s caught on.
He says nothing else before turning around and walking back the way he came. You have to bite down on your lips to keep from cackling.
That one’s mine, you think, still as infatuated as you were at the start. I chose that one.
While he’s gone, you try not to move, not to breathe too heavily. Vernon said he didn’t care about a mess, but when he said it, he was speaking theoretically with his hand on your tit. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d spoken recklessly with your body melting under his touch.
As far as you know, he hasn’t had any experience with this mess in practice. He could wind up finding you about as sexy as you currently feel — to wit: not at all. So, erring on the side of caution, you turn yourself into a statue and wait for the boy and his towel to find you again.
When he comes back, he plants a drive-by kiss on your unsuspecting mouth before skirting right around you. With shocking finesse, he grabs the corners of the — thankfully — black towel, which unfurls in the seconds before he flicks it upwards. It lands perfectly in the center of the bed, flat without needing to be fussed with.
“Wow,” he mutters to himself, taking in his clean work with raised eyebrows.
The impressed look is still on his face when he turns around, but you don’t have time to comment on his feat because he laughs as soon as he sees you.
“Kinda look like Donald Duck with the whole top-on, bottom-off situation.”
I chose this one?
You pout with an indignant gasp, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m not wearing a sailor hat, so…. bad analogy. Rude, even.”
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs as he snakes his arms around your waist and pulls you in close. You stumble a little on your way into him; the jury’s still out about whether it’s his hushed tone or the sudden movement that trips you up.
Between his thumb and index finger, he gently captures your chin. You follow along with his unspoken direction, tilt your face up to meet his. This close, you can see your own reflection in his pupils, black dilating against the warmest shade of brown you’ve ever seen.
Vernon takes a moment of silence as he takes in your features, and he studies them so intently that his eyebrows crinkle on their own. He sighs, sounding so completely serious. “You might get prettier every time I look at you.”
It’s unclear if you’re melting, or gushing; and if it’s the latter, you can’t say which biological process is at fault. Thankfully, the hand at the small of your back keeps your weak knees from buckling when his lips brush over yours.
“Even if you’re dressed like Winnie the Pooh.” 
You feel him smirk even before you hear him laugh at his own joke. Then, you feel his hand slide down to cup your bare cheek, squeezing affectionately. You want to tell him that this analogy is still inaccurate because you’re not wearing a crop-top; but he gently instructs you to ditch the sweatshirt and get on the bed, and your body moves automatically. No questions asked.
Carefully, you crawl up onto the mattress, then you center yourself on the towel. Still on your knees, you tilt your head curiously and ask, “Where do you want me?”
“Anywhere,” he breezes, pulling his shirt off and tossing it onto the dresser nearby. He amends, “Everywhere. All the time, and then some.”
“Better be careful,” you tease. “Talking like that might have consequences. You may never be able to get rid of me.”
His joggers are the next to go. Your sanity follows shortly thereafter, hungry eyes lingering on the imprint of his cock underneath his boxer briefs. You have to clamp your mouth shut to keep from drooling.
Brown eyes sparkling, he steps closer to you, kicking his pants aside as he goes. “Be careful,” he echoes, not a hint of cockiness to be found — just softness. “Saying it like a threat doesn’t make me wish it’s not a promise.”
I choose this one.
Crossing all the way to you, Vernon reaches the bed and climbs up with significantly more grace than you did. The mattress dips under his weight as he kneels right in front of you, mirroring your posture and causing your stomach to flip with anticipation.
You can’t help yourself; you lick your lips and look up at him with half-lidded eyes. “Naked, please. Like, right now.”
“Damn, I gotta do this myself?” Incredulous, he holds his hands up while glancing pointedly down at his underwear, then back at you. 
You arch an eyebrow, unfazed. 
“Depends.” You shrug. “Do you want to keep them? Because I really will rip them off of you.”
He concedes quickly; he always does. Sighing, he shakes his head and tuts, “Sex-crazed monster,” before pushing his briefs down his thighs. His length hangs heavy between you, but you swear you can feel its perfect ache inside you already.
You have a one-track mind, so you don’t hesitate to reach out and wrap your hand around him. A groan crawls up from the bottom of your chest when you feel the weighted warmth of his cock in your palm. You don’t hold that back, either.
“Fuck,” he sighs, head tilting as far backwards as it’ll go. Unexpectedly, he laughs. He doesn’t catch the quizzical look you shoot him, though he explains himself anyway, “Your hands are so fucking cold, but it feels so good.”
Swiping your thumb over his tip, you spread the pre-cum you find there down his shaft and stroke him slowly. He grows harder with every gentle squeeze, every pass of your fist. 
“We’re learning a lot of new shit about each other today.” You lean forward to pepper kisses across his collarbones. The hum of your mouth against his skin when you talk makes his cock twitch in your hand. “You might have a temperature kink and a thing for Winnie the Pooh.”
He snorts, nowhere near serious, “Shut the fuck up.”
“Make me,” you counter smugly, and you do mean it.
Vernon tilts his head forward to stare back at you. You’re already turning into a puddle, but if the look he gives you says anything, it’s that your melting isn’t enough for him. His voice is low and velvet-lined when he responds, “How about I just make you cum instead?”
“That could work, yeah.” You shrug.
He runs the pads of his fingers down each side of your waist to your hips, then back again; and each time he does it, you shiver. Reflexively, your back arches, chest pressing against his.
At this, he smirks, “It could? Maybe?”
“We can workshop it.”
“Or,” Vernon so generously offers, “You can turn around and lay down on your stomach. You know, if that’s sufficient.”
It’s not until you whip around and flop down onto the towel that you realize you never responded with words. Oh well. You figure he gets the point, judging by the quiet laughter you hear as he settles with his knees on either side of your upper thighs.
You don’t know what his next move will be — you don’t care, either, as long as he moves in your direction — so you don’t anticipate his palms flattening against your bare back, applying perfect pressure with his thumbs while he rubs away the soreness at the very base of your torso.
“Oh, shit,” you moan, eyes fluttering shut as the heels of his hands work out the tension in your muscles. “Have you always been good at this?”
You feel his chest brush against your shoulder blades when he hovers over you. Against the nape of your neck, he murmurs, “Nope.”
He kisses down your spine, mouth trailing after his hands as they work their way back down your body.
“Lemme guess — you read an article? Studied up?”
You get a snicker, then an affirmative hum, then another kiss. This time, it’s at the curve of your spine, just above your ass. Seconds later, he’s kneading the doughy flesh of your cheeks until your whole fucking body tingles.
That’s when it hits you:
Under normal circumstances, Vernon would be face-first in your pussy by now. Devouring you in earnest, like he’s starving. He can’t do that now — and you don’t blame him — so he’s making up for what you both view as a loss.
God, you want him.
One hand disappears from you, but you don’t have to guess where it went. You can hear the barely-there hiss of breath through his teeth when he takes his cock in that hand; as well as the very faint shift of his palm while he pumps himself.
“You’re gonna have to navigate, baby. I dunno how sensitive you are like this, what’s too much — any of that, so you need to tell me how you want me to move.”
Suddenly dizzy over how badly you need him, all you can muster is a nod. Vernon must want a verbal acknowledgment, though, because he leans back over you with one hand bearing his weight beside your head.
He kisses your shoulder and urges you, “Please say so if you need to stop or switch it up. Don’t wanna hurt you, sweetheart.”
“I will,” you breathe. “But I can’t even articulate how much I need you inside of me right now, so please — pretty please — fuck me.”
The tip of his nose bumps your temple affectionately. Right beside your ear, he teases, “With a cherry on top?” And it vibrates down your whole goddamn spine.
“Vernon!” You whine, burying your face in the comforter. It’s muffled, but you warn him nonetheless, “Don’t make me come back there.”
“Aish. Calm down, sex monster.”
The instinct to twist around and glare at him over your shoulder is strong, but every feral urge you feel is stronger. So, when he tells you to spread yourself open for him and tilt your hips back, you do so without even a hint of complaining.
With the crown of his cock slipping through your folds, inching towards your entrance, you hear him curse under his breath. Suddenly self-conscious, you finally crane your neck to the side and glance back at him. 
“We don’t have to,” you whisper. “If it’s gross and you don’t want to anymore, I get it —”
He balks at your suggestion without letting so much as a beat pass. “None of that, sweetheart; no spiraling. I’m just trying to figure out the logistics of, like… how to survive how good this already feels.”
Struck dumb, all you can muster is a peep, “Oh?”
“Shit, yeah.” His response comes in a low groan. “Can you take a deep breath for me?”
It’s a good call on his part, a suggestion you’re glad to have taken, because the pressure of him entering you is intense enough to knock the wind out of you. Empty lungs likely would’ve led to your untimely demise.
You whimper, already overwhelmed with the combination of pain and pleasure; the best kind of ache. The little, breathy moans must freak him out, however, because his fingertips caress your waist as he checks in: “This okay?”
Your limp arm lifts off the mattress, which you’ve melted fully into, and you form a circle with your index finger and thumb to indicate that you’re okay. The light is bright fucking green; you’ve just maxed out your capacity for speech.
Vernon continues his slow thrust forward, giving you ample time to adjust to his size.
“Oh my god,” he grunts, “This is — shit, I can’t believe we haven’t done this before. If I knew how good you’d feel like this, I wouldn’t have waited around for you to ask me.”
That hits like a truck.
He was waiting on you. 
You spent months convincing yourself that he’d need to be convinced, and chickening out before you could raise the idea. Months, and months, and months, of craving him during your werewolf transformation; wasting away over a shitty assumption that Vernon is anything like the people you’ve been with before. 
Christ. 
His credit for putting up with you is long overdue.
Too tongue-tied to speak any of that out loud, you settle for a summary that you hope conveys the message: “I love you so fucking much.”
Mindful of how deep it will push him into your cunt, he leans down over you carefully. Weight balanced on his knees and forearms, he envelopes you in his body heat, trails kisses across your shoulder, and echoes your words back at you between each one.
“Is this too much?” He whispers, rolling his hips slowly.
You feel him everywhere, with every drag of his cock along your walls; and you can’t tell where that throbbing sensation is coming from, him or you. 
You shake your head and sigh, “‘s perfect. You’re perfect.”
Like he knows it’ll unravel you, his large hand comes to rest over the back of yours. His fingers slip through the spaces between and squeeze you much more gently than the vice grip you hold on the bedding below you. He keeps holding you — just like this — through every movement.
The sensation of being this surrounded, this loved, this whole crashes over you like a wave and knocks you off balance.
“I’m so close,” you pant, voice as ragged as your breathing. There’s nothing that he isn’t already giving you with every deep, deliberate thrust into your heat; but you beg nonetheless, “Please, please, please —”
His speed doesn’t increase, but the intensity does. The smack of his hips colliding with your ass does, too, and you feel it reverberating in your bones. Buried as far inside of you as he can be, cock tip kissing your cervix with every high tide, length rolling across your g-spot with every low.
You cum so hard — so completely, invoking every single muscle you have — that you forget how to breathe. With a choked-out gasp, you squeeze your eyes shut and let your orgasm devastate you. 
“Fuck!”
Vernon gets caught up in the current, too, grinding desperately against you until he’s swept up in your wake. You feel him twitch inside you as his release floods, leaving you so lost in his warmth that you feel boneless underneath him.
His face winds up hidden in the crook of your neck, somewhere amidst the baby hairs that cling to the sheen of your sweat. You feel his lips fluttering against your skin when he laughs, “Oh…my god.”
“Mmphf.” You nod weakly in agreement. Beyond blissed, your body still tingles too much to move.
Slurring, you add, “‘s good. ‘s really…”
The rest of that thought dissolves into something between a moan and a yawn.
Just as tired, Vernon pats your ass cheek affectionately and mumbles, “Well said. No notes.”
You tilt your head far enough to free your face from the sheets. When you do, you find your boyfriend fighting a losing battle to keep his eyes open. In the rare seconds he can, he looks back at you in a daze that seems even more adoring than it does fuck-drunk.
“I think I need to hibernate now,” you announce. “Think you just fucked me so well that I need to take a sabbatical.”
He counter-offers, “Shower first, then sabbatical?”
You wiggle so that you can pull your joint hands to your mouth. You can’t kiss him properly while he’s laid out on top of you, but you can press your lips to the back of his hand and hope he feels how much of you that you pour into it.
“Okay, but, like…. who’s carrying who?”
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lylahammar · 4 months
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People always talk about how Laios is a character who gives fat vibes even if he isn't technically fat in canon which is very true, and I have some thoughts on that!! (this will be a long post lol sorry)
There's a lot of material in the dunmeshi extras that show how fatness factors into dungeon exploration, which shows that only the most skilled adventurers are able to keep weight on while in the dungeon (thank you to @savaralyn2 for the translations! links to the individual posts these panels come from are added on the pics):
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So we know, at the very least, that most of the characters are kept thinner than they would be naturally through the strain of death/revivification in the main dungeon. We also see that Laios has some fat on him, which through the text means that he's skilled enough to at least keep some of his weight (which makes sense, he doesn't die very often in canon).
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(to be clear this ^ doesn't constitute as "fat," he is built as fuck here he just has some fat on his body which shows his prowess as a fighter in this universe) HOWEVER my personal little pet theory/headcanon is that Laios actually has a difficult relationship with food! I know that doesn't make much sense at first since he's shown to eat a lot in canon, but hear me out. In pre-canon, before he reunited with Falin, he's shown to be extremely gaunt:
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But after partnering up with Falin, he gains weight and looks much more healthy very quickly. Part of this is definitely because of his unstable living situation/mental illness, but he and Falin still live in very poor conditions after this and he still manages to gain weight/get healthier, so I believe it's mainly due to her making sure he eats enough. We also know that Laios is. most certainly autistic. Nobody argue with me on that it's like pretty much widely accepted as canon for a lot of reasons lmao. So my theory is that he's actually food sensitive. He's shown to not really care about food that isn't monster-related. Even when he eats regular food, he's usually imagining it being a monster instead.
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He has never eaten squid before, which is totally normal, but could also support my theory in a way :P it being a monster still can't save it from the autistic sensory bad experience in this case, though.
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So I think that his adventurous eating during the course of the story isn't because he's actually an adventurous eater normally, it's purely because of his special interest (monsters, duh). During his journey to recover Falin, he's able to build up a healthier relationship with food through Senshi's guidance and the involvement of his special interest.
By the end of the story, after he's retired from dungeon exploration and living in comfort/safety, and with his newly healthy diet, he's finally able to gain a lot more weight. Imo, his is a story of someone who's naturally meant to be fat, but is only able to reach that point when in a stable and healthy environment.
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(for the record I know he's not that fat in this post canon comic, but this is only a year and a bit after the end of the story so there's still time lol)
alright I'm goin back to drawing now just had to infodump for a minute ✌️ keep it sleazy
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ryozaki21 · 11 months
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diary of the heartbreakers;
00z series
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╰┈➤ Diary of the Heartbreakers; 00z series
➸ ♡ They used to be the ones breaking hearts, but when karma comes around, suddenly the don't know what to do. Navigate through college life with your favorite idiots, and read through the Diary of the Heartbreakers.
GENRES: College AU, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Humour
WARNINGS: Minors DNI, Explicit sexual content, drug abuse, Infidelity, Toxic relationships/characters, Heavy topics discussed, player!00z, Language and Violence.
AUTHOR's NOTE: I thought long and hard about making this a series, because of my commitment issues and I don't trust myself to commit to a writing project like this TT, But since I have story ideas for these characters, (00z) I just linked all of them together. SLOW UPDATE. Also my first time doing a series, how about that?!? I hope you guys like it!
DISCLAIMER: This story is purely fanfiction. Only the names of the Idols are used, and does not reflect on them in real life. There's no way in any shape of form that they are like this in person, because I MADE IT UP. I don't personally know them. DO NOT STEAL / TRANSLATE / MODIFY. This is my work and I don't appreciate people stealing it. Thank you.
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╰┈➤ After You
➸ ♡ Na Jaemin had it easy. Loved by everybody, the man of everyone's dream. He's a perfect mix of a charmer and a player. Girls begged to be his, and he loved every part of it. Life used to be so fucking perfect for him. Then comes you. You're like an old book, ink fading, cover tearing, but he swears you're worth the read. Before you, life was easy. After you? He wasn't so sure.
"Break my heart, and you'll find yourself inside."
GENRE: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Mature themes
WARNINGS: Minors DNI, Explicit sexual content, Language, Mental Illness, Drugs/Alcohol usage, toxic!reader, fuckboy!Jaemin (but still a sweetheart)
AUTHOR's NOTE: Oh, this one's heavy. Much serious than the other stories and quite one that's holds some sensitive topics. If I get some things wrong about certain topics, please do tell me and I'll quickly correct it. Enjoy reading!
Expected WC: 15k
STATUS: published
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╰┈➤ Yours, Inevitably
➸ ♡ To say that Lee Jeno is pretty would be an understatement. The man's gorgeous. One thing he uses to his advantage, going through college getting girls he spots his eyes on. But there's one he just couldn't get. His brother's bestfriend. You can continue and avoid your feelings for each other, but eventually, it'll happen. You were someone that stayed, a constant in his life. You might not know it, but for the years you've known Lee Jeno, he slowly became yours, inevitably.
"I should've known that it was you, because no one else made sense."
GENRE: Fluff, Angst, Humour, Smut
WARNINGS: Minors DNI, Explicit sexual content, Language, Alcohol usage, Mentions of Drugs, fuckboy!Jeno, brothersbsf!reader
AUTHOR's NOTE: This story was collecting dust on my drafts for so longg! Originally I was gonna post it as a stand-alone but figured it made sense to be a part of this series. One of my faves. Also lots of other members of nct mentioned. Enjoy reading!
Expected WC: 8k-10k
STATUS: published
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╰┈➤ The Fine Art of Rejection
➸ ♡ Huang Renjun, the sweetie of the year, is one hard star to catch. Not as easy as his other friends, he's quite difficult to have. Although he has a fair share of affairs with girls, it is considered to be a rare occurence. But you? Oh boy were you something. You were quite head over heels over him. His friends could never understand, but you were persistent to get the boy. No matter how much he refuses your advances, Its like you found art in rejection. But to what degree can you hold it out?
"I can be everything I want, but fuck, I only wanted to be yours. Even though you couldn't be mine."
GENRE: Unrequited love, Humour, Fluff, Angst, Smut
WARNINGS: Minors DNI, Language, Explicit sexual content, Alcohol Usage, cheerleader!reader, Renjun is sometimes rude lol
AUTHOR's NOTE: Actually, I wanted to write something pure fluffy for Renjun, but I figured I need to put a sprinkle (more than that actually lmao) of angst. Also my favorite plot to write. Enjoy reading!
Expected WC: 8k-10k
STATUS: published
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╰┈➤ Illicit Affairs
➸ ♡ Infamous for being every girl's guilty pleasure, Lee Haechan strutted through his life shamelessly. But recently, the new girl caught his eye. Im Hayeon, who he believes that would finally tame his wreckless heart. He was confident he could get the girl. And when he did, he never expected her to have baggages. For example, you, Im Hayeon's best friend. Who suddenly, sparked an idea on his pretty little head. You're trouble-- and you're making Haechan commit Illicit Affairs.
"You're making me do bad things, very, bad things. But then again, I'm no stranger in being the bad guy."
GENRE: Fluff, Angst, Humour, Smut
WARNINGS: Minors DNI, Language, Explicit sexual content, Alcohol Usage, Infidelity, Haechan and reader is kind of an asshole
AUTHOR's NOTE: okay, for one, i don't condone cheating. its just for the story! also i won't tackle on it too much-- literally just for the plot. Enjoy reading!
Expected WC: 8k-10k
STATUS: published
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© ryozaki21 2023
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autisticsupervillain · 9 months
Text
Autistic Avatars not realizing that they're Avatars because they're just "like that": a thread
The Eye
Special Interest in the supernatural = constant food for The Watcher
You know about Interest? TELL ME EVERYTHING
"Hey man listen to me infodump about this horrifying ghost story I read for twenty minutes, alright?"
I need to Know everything about something before I partake in it.
"How did I Know that? Eh, I probably hyperfixated on it at some point."
I cannot be misunderstood so I'll beam the facts into your brain.
The Web
I must plan everything 200 steps in advance before doing anything.
I have prepared for all possible outcomes, I can now have this one conversation.
If I set up all these variables long in advance, then I can do everything correctly and Win the social interaction.
I cannot do anything before The Plan says to.
"I practice my social skills by talking to my spider friends." -Martin "Autism" Blackwood
The Stranger
I cannot socialize without being Uncanny.
If my socialization seems like an act, that's because it is. I practice it in the mirror every day.
Theater Kid
How do you Normal Human?
The Anatomy Class.
Assuming fellow Stranger Avatars also just have the 'Tism. They're not trying to be creepy, honest.
Can't do faces. Doesn't notice when you get replaced.
Being subtly off is too subtle for me.
The Lonely
"I have failed the social interaction. Let the fog reclaim me."
Talking to people is draining my batteries even faster than ever. I need to be alone for approximately 384,400,000 years.
Nothing can overstimulate me in the cool, blinding fog.
Nothing unpredictable can happen in the fog.
The fog is your friend.
The known connection between autism and depression feeds the fog.
The Dark
Why is the sun so god damn bright? I'm going to blow it up I swear.
Night Owl.
Everything's decently quite at night and people leave you alone.
Same overstimulation preventatives as the Lonely tbh. Dark and fog are good concealers.
The dawn is your enemy.
The dread florescent lights shall never bother me again. They break upon my arrival.
Can and will infodump to the monster under my bed. Even now it feels like it listens.
The Spiral
Autism makes getting other mental illnesses recognized hard.
Autism dissociation from body and mind. When did it become 3 AM and why do I hurt? Why am I grumpy? What vital self care task did I forget?
Literal mind doesn't often match reality. Reality is specifically unspecific.
Spaced out and wandered off. Where the fuck am I?
I'm not a mental baby, please stop treating me like it.
I'm not inherently dangerous, please stop treating me like it.
Memory problems my beloathed. Did that happen? I dunno.
What Is Time?
What Is Me?
The Gender
Why do things only make sense to me? What does no one else make sense?
The Flesh
Autism Genderfuckery = Flesh fueled dysphoria.
Meat is the only texture that's palatable. Especially the Mystery Meat.
Will never try any other foods. Too picky.
Infodumps about the horrors of meat processing at dinner and ruins the meal for everyone. More steak for me.
Hates PETA.
Double the arms means double the stim. You weren't using them, right?
Working out is a great stim.
The Corruption
Practices social interaction with the bugs who live in my walls.
"Insects are disgusting. I love them!"
Will protect endangered insects by any means necessary.
According to all known laws of aviation-
Relationship boundaries struggles.
Difficulty noticing sickness symptoms.
Is that nausea or am I overstimulated? *Accidentally causes supernatural plague outbreak*
Difficulty getting diseases diagnosed because of both Autism and noticing too many symptoms so the doctors assume they're faking.
Forgot vital hygiene needs.
The Bugs Are My Friends! They keep me company when I'm sick!
The Buried
Weighted blankets are insufficient, I need the Earth to reclaim me.
Avoid social interaction by tunneling everywhere like a mole.
101 facts about worms.
Forgor hygiene again. Time to become dirt.
Digging a hole is good stimming.
That guy who had to be buried alive to sleep properly. What do you mean you don't want to be buried?
The End
Aradia Megido from Homestuck.Com
That's it, that's the list.
The Desolation
The Autism Temper.
Losing relationships and friendships to ableism and your own disability constantly.
The Fire is a wonderful stim board. Watch it crinkle.
Just watching candles melt for hours.
The fire and thrill gives my life passion again.
Jude Perry.png
The Vast
Accidentally terrifying people by infodumping about the horrors of nature.
The stimulus of falling.
Nature/Space/Weather Documentary on in background always.
Okay, but from how high did you fall? I want to calculate your velocity as you fell through the void.
Weirdly enough... power scaling?
Power scaling is just the art of determining how easily your favorite characters can destroy mankind so... yeah, I can see it.
Brain empty, only terminal velocity.
The Hunt
Cat Autism
The inherent hyperfocus of the hunt. The chase. Your prey.
Studying the habits of your latest hyperfixation/Hunt assigned prey for days at a time.
I've spent so much time hunting in the woods that I forgot about human society. The Missing Person's Bureau have written you off for dead.
Returning to society to sell your wears and realizing you aren't human anymore.
That's okay. Social interaction is random. The Hunt makes sense.
It's black and white. Predator and prey. Humans hunting monsters. It Makes Sense.
The Slaughter
The incredible human WW1 documentary.
"Did you know?" *Describes horrible historic warcrime*
Takes apart puts back together guns from their collection.
The list of known casualties from this war is incomplete. With my help, they can expand it. :)
The Extinction
The world is spiraling towards its end and only you seem to care.
It hurts to be this passionate about a lost cause.
You Will Make Them Care.
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Note
Would you please do a stepbro! Tommy smut with a piss kink? Maybe he makes reader hold it?
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Summary: Your step brother finds you out stumbling drunk, there’s only one thing that must be done for you to learn.
warnings: watersports, piss kink, dom/sub dynamics, p in v, mentions of intoxication, humiliation, degradation, stepcest
Everyone knew Tommy was close with you, always around one another, joking around, sometimes playing games that step siblings shouldn’t be playing. 
You hadn’t been home since breakfast and though you were well old enough not to have a curfew, Tommy still demanded to know where you were, who you were with and that you’d be home before dark.
Yet here he was driving down the street in the piss pouring rain looking for his step sister whom he may or may not have a sick, twisted, far too loving relationship with.
Stumbling off through the dark alley giggling with your friends, a car pulled up by the sidewalk that you knew all too well to be your step brother Tommy.
Bidding you goodbye, your friends scattered off, frightened of him, while the brick wall you were now leaning against was the only thing keeping you up on your feet.
Tommy stepped out of the car the rain pouring down onto his head as he slammed the door shut in anger, walking toward you with vigours, thunderous steps.
“I’ve been looking for you all night, and you’ve been out getting drunk at me fooking pub?” Making a sly goofy smile, Tommy rolled his eyes shoving you in the car before driving off back to the house.
The liqour was creating a sense of sexual urgency, and need to be fucked. Yet unlike all other days Tommy disregarded your longing stares and seductive touches, instead leading you into his office, forcing you down on a chair demanding you not move.
“Since you love drinking so much, why don’t we see just how much you can withstand.” Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, Tommy returned, his heated gaze never swaying from your hazy eyes.
“Drink up, love.” He eyed you from the opposite side of his desk, pushing the tremendously full glass of water toward you.
Eyeing him nervously, you did as he said, allowing the cool liquid to drench your dry throat, relinquishing the headache almost immediately.
His ocean eyes impended directly on you, focusing on the discomfort you attempted to hide.
“You will hold it until I say so.” Whimpering, he stood from his chair, massaging your shoulders, his plush lips dusting against your ear.
“Maybe you’ll learn your lesson next time, eh love?”
You just hadn’t realized how far Tommy would go for a punishment.
Throughout the day he consistently ignored your begging to use the restroom. Instead refilling the glass with each complaint you gave him.
It wasn’t until five glasses in that you realized he wasn’t just messing around, he wanted to see you suffer immensely.
When Ada arrived home, she has voiced concern that you might be ill. Playing it off, you mentioned that your sleep cycle had been inconsistent, relying on the blatant lie of being drowsy and irritable while Tommy simply smirked in the corner, attempting not to laugh as he sipped his tea.
“Well, perhaps a movie will help you sleep.” Nodding, Ada removed her coat, recalling that history movies were a dull interest to you, and ran outside to get the post to see what would be playing on the television tonight.
Once she was out of sight, Tommy abruptly appeared behind your back, purposefully pulling you back against him, arms squeezing tightly around your lower abdomen.
Whining, your head fell back against his chest as his hand glided beneath your skirt, rubbing your aching heat.
This wasn’t fair, he didn’t hold Ada to these standards even though she was older. She’s never had a “curfew”, why should you be any different?
“How’s my little lamb holding in there? Gonna piss yourself right here in the kitchen?” The water slowly dripping from the sink faucet has your eyes drawn in as Tommy continued to massage your mound, the rain pattering against the window outside.
The dripping sounds and the stimulation, causing your mind to spin in a million different directions.
“Such a sensitive little thing aren’t you? Just imagining the moment of releasing the flood gates, draining yourself, completely?” Tugging away from him once the door opened, Ada motioned that your brothers and Aunt Pol wouldn’t be back until tomorrow, but the good news was she had found a movie, only it was three hours.
After eating dinner, the living area was set up with blankets and pillows along with simple snacks.
You were currently seated in the middle of the sofa, Tommy beside you of course while Ada was in the recliner to the side.
As a obnoxiously loud scene came on, you took the time to address your brother.
“Tommy, please! I’m going to burst at the seams!” You pleaded, and begged to him, wishing to just dispel the extreme un comfort of your bladder holding the max capacity of piss. 
He simply chuckled, shaking his head in disapproval, enjoying how desperate you sounded.
Your eyebrows creased together when his hand guided toward your lower abdomen underneath the blanket, pressing firmly onto the bloated, hardened skin, causing you to squeam in slight pain and discomfort of his actions.
Glancing around the room, Ada was still awake fully indulged in the movie.
Shit, you were going to have to play normal for longer than you already have.
Shivering Ada stood up from her seat, complaining of how cold it was in the house even with the fire lit.
When she mentioned hot chocolate, Tommy’s eyes lit up with mischief and pure diabolical intentions.
“Y’know Y/N was just complaining of the same thing, do you mind making us one too?” 
Oh how you wanted to smack him in the back of his demented head, and rush to the toilet.
Every other minute Tommy was shifting, in his seat. How long was this movie? You wouldn’t be surprised had he picked on nearly three hours. But you could play this game better.
As the film continued on about an hour later Tommy’s eyes were becoming heavy, his slight minuscule snores just barely audible.
Taking the opportunity at large, you were careful standing up from the sofa, hesitant not to wake him before walking off toward the upstairs bathroom. Only thing was this was an old house with creaking floors. The night time shade made it hard to see where you were stepping, and then it happened.
The first creak and Tommy was awakened, turning his head to catch you red handed.
Glancing over, Ada was asleep and luckly for him she was a heavy sleeper.
Terror seeped over your eyes as Tommy stood from the catch, walking over and grabbing your arm, forcing you to his room.
“Did you think I wouldn’t hear?” Barging through the door, you shed one another of your clothes, eventually, falling down onto the mattress. Tommy towered over your aching body, noticing how bloaded your bladder appeared, and how hard your nipples were even in the warm air.
You couldn’t help but blush in embarrassment from the fact that being degraded and controlled in such a way turned you on.
Pressing firmly down onto your skin, he smirked watching you squeal and squirm beneath him in desperation, while his hardened cock slid in an up and down motion between your moist folds.
“Tommy I- I can’t. Please let me go first!” He shook his head, plunging his length in your heated flower. The over filling sensation, causing extreme discomfort with a hint of pleasure.
“Maybe you should learn to listen to your big brother every now and then eh?” Your lips parted agape when he began to drill into your body, the head of his cock feeling like it was hitting your bladder with each thrust.
Surely he didn’t expect you to hold your piss through this.
“I-I’m sorry, I promise I’ll be home on time from now on.” His hands grasped at your boobs, feeling them bounce with each rhythmic thrust.
It was almost pathetic how soaked you were, how your pussy clung to his long length in desperation.
When he flipped you over onto your stomach, that was when the inevitable was about to happen.
“Tommy-Tommy I’m gonna- I can’t-“
“You can release now love.” As soon as he gave you permission, all of the piss inside your aching bladder pooled out onto the sheets around his cock. The relieving sensation was almost too satisfying to recognize the humiliating situation that didn’t seem to phase Tommy at all as he continued to fuck you relentlessly. The piss warming his cock like a popsicle melting from the hot sun on a warm summer day.
The white sheets now stained yellow beneath your sex, your cheeks burning red in embarrassment.
It wasn’t long until Tommy released his seed inside of your dripping hole, the overwhelming heat of your pussy and piss sending a tidal wave of pleasure through his veins as his toes curled with one last strong, powerful thrust as he rode out his orgasm.
“So tell me? Did you learn something useful today?”
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