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woozisprincess · 3 days ago

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Your two closest friends, who are also your otp, are more comfortable around you than anyone else. Like they're really comfortable. Probably too comfortable.

Scoups x Fem!Reader x Woozi

6.4k

Poly fic, fluff, friends to lovers, dense reader, super suggestive, Seungcheol thot activity, CheolHoon argue a lot but it's all in good faith, made Seungcheol really pouty because I like, Jihoon tries to be normal, Vernon listens to your CheolHoon problems, lmk if anything else

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Whenever Jihoon and Seungcheol were around, you always felt like you were witnessing something that you shouldn't. Moments between them that in no way were intended for the public eye. And for whatever fucking reason, they only seemed to act this away around you. During a group hangout, when the three of you were the first to arrive, it almost felt like you yourself were in the relationship. They giggled and smiled at each other like they shared a secret no one else knew, and then they'd look at you like you were also privy to that secret. You were not. And then as more of your friends filed in, they'd go back to acting how they normally did around people. Still cute, still in love, just much less intimate.

And this has happened multiple times, mind you. Whenever you had the pleasure of third wheeling them for the day, or when you'd stop by Jihoon's place to binge anime while Seungcheol lurked around. It was insane. You felt insane. At first you had fully convinced yourself that you were imagining things, but as time went on, it was clear that it was very real, and that you were the only one experiencing this.

The lovers were undeniably your otp, seeing as you had been rooting for them since Jihoon first let it slip to you that he had a massive crush on Seungcheol. He was all nervous and flustered, made you promise to not say anything. You couldn't help but laugh at how adorable he was being. Did he really not see how Seungcheol looked at him? Truthfully, you're the only reason they're even together. Jihoon was in complete denial that Seungcheol could possibly like him, and Seungcheol couldn't read through Jihoon's Tsundere tendencies for shit. So through meticulous planning, and months of egging the two of them on, they finally confessed to one another. So yeah, you happily take credit.

You assume that's why they're so… comfortable… around you. You really can't find another explanation. You'd always been pretty close to both of them as well, so that's definitely gotta be a part of it. It's just so odd to you.

Well, at least it was odd to you. It's been a year since it all started, and you've grown quite used to their behavior. In fact, you'd even say that you enjoy the special treatment. The way Seungcheol reaches to hold your hand in crowded spaces the same way he does for Jihoon, when Jihoon pulls you as close as he possibly can during movie nights, how they both call you their girl. You don’t think you've even thought about getting a boyfriend since all this started, you really didn't need one when you basically had two. That's why as you sat at your favorite brunch spot with them, you were completely unphased by… whatever they were doing.

You looked at your menu, unsure of what to get this time around. You told yourself that you'd order something different today, but your eyes kept drifting to the Very Berry French Toast that you always ordered.

“What do I even get?” You were mostly talking to yourself, but Seungcheol chimed in anyway.

“I don't know…” He feigned genuine thought as he glanced at his menu. “Maybe we should just order this.” His hand grabbed Jihoon's face, pinching his cheek.

First of all, we is insane, but okay.

Jihoon rolled his eyes, but the flush creeping up his face betrayed him. “You cannot do this every time we eat, the joke is dead.”

“Who said I was joking?” Seungcheol raised his brow.

“Do not-” you closed your menu having decided on your meal. “-start this here, Seungcheol. People are trying to eat.” You were getting the Very Berry French Toast.

“Yeah me too-”

“Shut the fuck up.” Jihoon cut off the large man. “Can I please! Just enjoy brunch in peace?”

Seungcheol looked around, once again pretending to think about his answer.

“Maybe… if you give me a kiss.” Seungcheol looked at him smug.

You had no clue how Jihoon did it. Seungcheol was a Leo man. A LEO MAN. But then again, you probably entertained Seungcheol's antics the most.

Jihoon pretended to die, slumping over in his seat and making a cartoonish ‘bleh’ sound. He stayed like that for an entire ten seconds before sitting back up, scowling at Seungcheol, and quickly pecking his lips. Seungcheol hummed triumphantly, fully aware that that was the most he was gonna get in a public setting.

You see, Jihoon would've never done even that if anybody else was sitting across from them. PDA was not his thing at all. But for whatever reason, he could not care less in your presence.

You watched as Jihoon fixed his Jacket after it had fallen from his shoulders due to his award winning death scene. You were actually pretty sure it was Seungcheol’s, a new one of his too. Jihoon sure worked fast.

Soon your waitress arrived to take your orders, quickly jotting down the three meals before scurrying off. As you all waited, you continued with your mindless chatter. Jihoon and Seungcheol held hands over the table and you were very unsurprised when Jihoon eventually reached across to grab your hand as well. You happily took it, you'd have to be insane to turn down Lee Jihoon's open and willing affections, regardless of how peculiar it was. You watched as his eyes lit up just a little bit brighter as he continued to yap about the anime the two of you had finished the night prior.

When the food arrived, they shared with each other, as couples liked to do, and then they shared with you, as they liked to do. You also shared your treasured Very Berry in return. You honestly liked this arrangement, it meant that you could have different meals and still order your tooth rotting breakfast food. A bit of Seungcheol's Hearty beef sandwich, some of Jihoon's healthy chicken salad, all together it balanced out your meal perfectly.

“Maybe you're their third person?”

“Their what?”

You sat on your couch with Vernon as the two of you talked about your mornings, a movie playing on the TV that you've only half paid attention to. Vernon is the only person you've told about your relationship with the couple. He's rational and can keep a secret, making him the best person to vent to when you first thought you were losing your mind. You never point out their behavior anymore, incredibly desensitized to it all, but upon hearing that you had brunch with them, the Aquarius man thought of a new theory.

“Third person,” Vernon said simply.

You blinked at him.

“Please elaborate.”

“Well…” he swayed side to side in thought. “Some couples just have a person they're really attached to, and like to do everything with. Kind of like a pet.”

“A pet?” You squinted. “That's super comforting, thanks, Non.” You muttered sarcastically.

“No problem.”

You never knew if he genuinely didn't understand your sarcasm or if he just didn't care. Either way, it pisses you off.

Obviously, the next logical step was to launch a couch pillow at him. He yelped upon impact and immediately did the same to you.

And so it begins.

Your living room was a wreck by the time you were done assaulting each other with pillows. You knocked over a ton of trinkets, busted one of the pillows, and possibly broke something- something fell off of a shelf with a ‘crack’ but you paid it no mind. You had collapsed on the couch while Vernon found refuge on the floor. You both laughed as you shot stupid insults at each other.

At some point you heard your phone ring, you promptly ignored it after realizing that you had left it on the kitchen counter, and were unwilling to get it. But then it rang again, and then you got a few text notifications. So you begrudgingly got up from the soft cushions of your sofa, and trudged to the kitchen.

Missed call from Leo Man 🤨

Missed call from Baby Boy 🫧

Text from Leo Man 🤨

Hey, cupcake!

Baby and I were going to the mall and you said something earlier about needing new shoes so we thought to invite you! 😍

Lmk wassup!

Text from Baby Boy 🫧

Mall

We'll be outside in 10mins

You sighed. Oh your sweet boys.

You did need new shoes, so you decided to take them up on the offer, though Jihoon didn't seem to be giving you a choice. You let Vernon know what was going on and when you left he showed no signs of actually leaving himself. Strange man.

Just as Jihoon said, the couple was outside in ten minutes. You opened the door and slid into the backseat of Seungcheol's bright red truck.

“You miss us?” Seungcheol mused as he put the car in drive.

“It's been five hours, Cheol.” You deadpanned, strapping your seatbelt.

“So?” The man glanced at you, offended, through the rearview mirror. “We missed you!”

“You know, if you keep acting like this you'll scare her off.” Jihoon furrowed his brows.

“What!? No!” Seungcheol sputtered in disbelief. “I don't scare you, right, cupcake?” He glanced at you in the rearview once again, awful concerned about his boyfriend's comment.

Was Choi Seungcheol big and intimidating? Yes. And he could be down right terrifying if you got on his bad side. But to you? Nah. Big softy. A teddy bear even.

You chuckled at his wide eyes. “No, Cheol. You're bout’ as scary as a puppy.”

“Well that's not…” Seungcheol bit his lip in consideration. “I'm intimidating sometimes.”

“You are so picky.” Jihoon laughed at him.

“Okay but you love me!”

“Ehhh.”

Seungcheol scowled. “Well, ____ loves me!”

“You like, strictly complain around her, so think again.” Jihoon muses.

And now Seungcheol was full blown pouting, his plump, rosy lips jutting out in distaste. Very upset that no one loves him. This wasn't true.

He knew this wasn't true. He pouted anyways.

“Jihoon, ease up, I need him to carry my shit.” You repressed your own laughs to maintain the peace.

“I'll gladly carry your things, cupcake.” Seungcheol stated, still frowning. “Jihoon will have to fend for himself.” He'd turn his head if he weren't focused on the road.

“I'm not buying anything???” Jihoon continued his teasing. “Plus, we all know you'd still carry my stuff anyways.”

Sometimes you forgot how much of a fucking brat Jihoon could be around you and Seungcheol. The man was always so cool tempered and quiet around the masses, but when it was just the three of you, he'd leap at the chance to make Seungcheol pout. Sadism.

“I'm not gonna buy you the new Maple Story packs.”

Jihoon gasped and promptly shut the fuck up. Seungcheol smiled in triumph. He's had a lot of victories today. Unbelievable.

You couldn't help but cackle at their bickering. They've only been together for a few months longer than a year, yet they argued like an old married couple. You sighed as the mall finally came into view.

“Oh my god, why's he pouting now?” You just came back from the bathroom to find that Seungcheol is, once again, upset about something.

Jihoon pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “I called him Choi Seungcheol.” he mutters.

You blinked. “Ji… you know better than that.”

“It wasn't even on purpose!”

“Cheol, see? It wasn't on purpose.” You tried to mediate.

“Nah, he said it as revenge for threatening to not buy him new fortnight skins.”

“Why-” No. Nope. It didn't matter. Y'all weren't going anywhere unless this was solved. “Jihoon, kiss him!”

“What, why!?”

“It's the easiest way to make him feel better.”

“You kiss him then!”

You looked at the pale man, appalled. “He's your boyfriend!”

“And? I'm sure he'll be plenty happy if you kissed him.”

“I-” You blinked rapidly at the couple. “-I don't have time for this.”

So you approached Seungcheol, grabbed his face, and planted a big, fat kiss on his cheek. When you pulled away, you saw that your lipstick had smudged, leaving a shotty print of your pursed lips on his cheekbone.

Jihoon leaned over to see, clicking his tongue and muttering a ‘Nice.’

A sheepish smile slowly grew on Seungcheol's face as you let go of him. He held his cheek as he suggested you all grabbed something to eat. Fucking Leo's, man.

As the three of you sat to eat in the food court, Seungcheol still hadn't bothered wiping his face, so you did it for him. He complained as you used a napkin to rub away the lipstick, saying that it was proof that you loved him.

“You don't need proof when I'm sitting right here, dumbass.” You mumbled it mindlessly as you finished with your efforts.

You hadn't noticed that both Jihoon and Seungcheol were staring at you, so when pulled back, your eyes darted between the two, confused.

“What?” You raised a brow at them. “Is there something on my face too?” You joked.

Jihoon blinked at you before locking in on his food. “No, you're good.”

Seungcheol just gave you a giddy ass smile as he went to eat his own food.

Okay then…

You dozed off on the car ride home, only hearing the couple's soft murmurs over the even quieter radio every now and then.

“She's asleep.” Jihoon whispered as he watched over your still figure in the backseat.

Seungcheol hummed in response. “I'm not surprised. We dragged her out twice today.” He chuckled.

“Yeah…” Jihoon's gaze lingered a little longer before turning to sit properly. “So nice of her to come out. Even with all your pouting.” Jihoon couldn't help the jab that escaped from him so naturally.

“Even with all your nagging.” Seungcheol fired back.

Their hushed laughs flowed throughout the truck, much too gentle for the vehicle’s garish appearance.

“Ugh, what're we gonna do?” Jihoon sighed, covering his face with his hands. “She was so cute when she kissed you.”

Seungcheol agreed as he resisted the urge to feel his cheek where the phantom kiss lingered. “And what she said in the food court…” He recounted.

“Oh my goooodddddd” Jihoon whisper screamed. “Shut up, I thought I was hearing things.” He scrunched his face.

“No, she said that.” Seungcheol confirmed.

In his peripheral vision, Seungcheol saw his boyfriend's cheeks puff out to hold his breath, most likely trying to keep from screaming. And they called him the dramatic one.

Seungcheol smiled as he reached over to grab his lover's hand. Even if it all really meant nothing, he was just happy that you were around.

You don't need proof when I'm sitting right here.

Yeah, he was gonna hold onto that for the next forever.

When the car pulled up in front of your apartment building, Jihoon once again maneuvered his body to look at you. “Cupid, you're back home.” He spoke a bit louder than he had previously been.

The couple watched you stir at the call of your name, fully sitting up when Jihoon patted your knee.

“Shit…” You mumbled, blinking the sleep from your eyes. You looked out the window to find that you were, in fact, at home. “Okay.” You yawned.

You undid your seatbelt and then attempted to stretch your arms in the cramped space.

The lovers felt like they were watching a cat wakeup. Slow blinks, quiet yawns, big stretches. It made them feel all fuzzy inside.

You grabbed the paper bag with your shoes, as well as a different bag with a top Seungcheol had bought for you as well. You swung open the car door and shuffled outside. You then stepped over to Jihoon's door, peeking through his already open window. Like clockwork, you grabbed his hand, bringing it to your lips as you've done a million times before. Then you quickly reached for Seungcheol's hand, knowing damn well he'd have a fit if you didn't. He wouldn't be concerned at all with how you were kissing on his boyfriend, more concerned about getting his turn. You couldn't fully reach to kiss him, so you gave his hand a good squeeze.

“Goodnight, boys.” You mumble with a tired smile.

“You have work in the morning?” Seungcheol inquired. You hummed. “I'll pick you up, okay?”

“Mmmkay.” You agreed.

“Night, Cupid.” Jihoon mumbled, leaning back in his seat, also clearly tired from the day. His droopy eyes gave you a cuteness aggression fit that took the will of thousands to not act on in that moment.

With a bit of reluctance, Seungcheol let go of your hand, allowing you to wander off and take refuge in your home. He looked at his boyfriend and they shared a knowing look. Really… What were they gonna do?

You were back to thinking that maybe you were going insane. You had barged into Jihoon's apartment, ready for another anime binge, and when you entered the living area, you witnessed Jihoon essentially pry Seungcheol off of him upon hearing your footsteps. That was normal. Seungcheol, of course, was never the kind to give in so easily, so he continued to kiss his boyfriend all over his face and neck as he tried to greet you. Also normal. Seungcheol's response to Jihoon's complaints of you standing right there as you waited for them to finish their little show, was to offer you to join. Still normal.

The lustful glances at you? Weak. The way Jihoon basically moans as Seungcheol's lips refuse to leave him? Been there, done that.

So what on god's green earth could've possibly struck you as odd? When Seungcheol grabbed your arm and pulled you to sit between the two of them. So simple compared to literally everything else you just witnessed, but it was the only thing that was out of the ordinary. Seungcheol usually got up and wandered further into the apartment as you flopped on the couch next to Jihoon. If the large man ever did come back, he'd take the seat on the other side of Jihoon. So yeah, it was pretty surprising when you found yourself pressed between the two of them like the cream in an Oreo.

Vernon's old theory about them being swingers came to mind. You'd debunked it saying they would've made a move forever ago. And it was true, swingers weren't exactly known for their patience. So as you looked at the two of them, Jihoon leaning on you as he turned on the TV to play the show, Seungcheol's arm falling behind you on the couch, you accepted that this was now a part of the routine.

Other than that, the night was pretty normal. You found yourself laying across the lovers as the episodes went on. You and Jihoon hummed and gasped at the TV, occasionally pausing to stand up and rant about something stupid a character did. Seungcheol laughed at the two of you, saying that ‘It was just a show,’ and that you both needed to calm down. Two sets of eyes glared at the Leo, immediately Jihoon reminded him of how he acts when his favorite team loses a game.

“That's real.” Seungcheol huffed, crossing his arms.

“It's a game!” You shouted at him in disbelief from where you had stood to announce your irritation. “It's literally grown men kicking a ball around!” You gestured wildly.

“Those grown men are skilled, and deserve a win!” He shot back.

“Obviously not if you're crashing out every other night because they can't get one!”

Jihoon cackled at the two of you, falling back on the couch and kicking his legs in the air. “It's true-” Jihoon wheezes trying to catch his breath. “They never win!” He clutched his stomach.

You stood up straight, basking in your victory. Not today Choi Seungcheol. Seungcheol rolled his eyes and pouted, but he still let you flop your legs over his lap without complaint.

You tried to continue the show, but the three of you kept giggling about whatever you were talking about. And as the hours rolled by, and you all grew more tired, you decided it was time to sleep.

Seungcheol threw you over his shoulder, and hauled you to the bedroom when you attempted to walk home at the unholy hour. You could only sigh as you locked eyes with Jihoon who giggled as he treaded closely behind the two of you.

Seungcheol plopped you on the bed while Jihoon went to grab you some of his clothes to use as pajamas. The apartment once had a guest bedroom, but Jihoon had turned it into his photography studio a few years back, leaving only the one room. You never understood why they made you sleep in the bed with them when the couch was still perfectly fine, but you've learned not to question things.

This is just how things are. This is just how they are. And even in all their behaviors, they've never once made you feel uncomfortable, so what was the point in fighting it? You surely couldn't think of a good reason as you slipped on one of Jihoon's oversized shirts, and tied on a pair of his shorts. You exited the bathroom and flopped on the bed where the couple was already cuddling. You'd think the bed would be too crowded, but for whatever reason, Jihoon owned the biggest mattress on the market. Said something about liking his space. Ironic seeing as he drags you and his boyfriend into bed whenever possible.

Jihoon pulled you into the cuddle sesh with little thought.

“Nooooo, you guys run hot.” You whined as you weakly pushed his arms away.

“Yeah we do.” Seungcheol mused.

Well… he wasn't wrong.

Ultimately, you ended up laying on Jihoon's chest with Seungcheol’s arm thrown over the both of you, you all chattered mindlessly while drifting off.

“All this mattress…” You began. “And you guys insist that we sleep like shivering kittens in need of each other's warmth.” You complained half heartedly.

“Awww.” Jihoon cooed at the mental image, his hand running up and down your back. “Those poor kittens.”

“The kittens aren't real, Ji.” You mumbled.

“They are somewhere.” He whispered.

You heard Seungcheol, who you thought was asleep, chuckle at the two of you. “You're both my kittens.” He asserted in a hushed tone.

You rolled your eyes at how cheesy the man was. You didn't bother commenting, but Jihoon sure did.

“That was so fucking corny, babe.” He scrunched his face.

This only made Seungcheol laugh, his mission to make you cringe a success. “I'm glad you think so, babe.”

“Can you like, not, babe.” You tacked onto the ‘babe’ train happening.

“Mmmm, only if I get a kiss, babe.” You don't think there's been a day since you met Seungcheol, that he hasn't demanded kisses from you, or anyone else in the vicinity. The man was such a thot. But hey, If you could pull the way he could, you'd probably be one too.

“How about you both go to bed…” Jihoon chimed in. “Babe.”

You snorted at the delay. He tried not to give in, but he couldn't help himself.

Seungcheol sat up a bit, leaning on his elbow so that he could kiss you and Jihoon. One on Jihoon's lips, one a bit close to yours as he whispered ‘love you's.’

In that moment, as you all were finally falling asleep, a thought dawned on you. One that, perhaps, should've come to you a year ago. Maybe you weren't just their third person, a fortunate witness to their love for one another. Maybe you were their third person, a receiver of the love and devotion that you thought the two of them only held for each other. Your brows furrowed as you pushed the thought aside. Not now. Go to sleep.

The next days were… odd. Even more so than usual. The couple wasn't even doing things out of their ordinary, you were just looking at the things they were doing differently. You really tried to push it away, tell yourself you were crazy, but it was no use. Even the level headed Hansol Vernon Chwe, was of no help to you.

“Why didn't I think of that!” Vernon gasped in realization.

You went to him for rational thought, not one of his convoluted theories. But here you were, head in your hands as he further entertained the idea.

“I guess I assumed that they were only exclusive to each other without considering the possibility that they'd be open to a third partner that third partner specifically being you of course because why else would they act all lovey dovey with you unless they wanted you in the relationship as well it actually makes complete sense but we overlooked it due to our closed minds refusing to see-”

“Vernon, literally if you don't shut the fuck up I'm going to rip your tongue out.”

Vernon paused his ramblings, clearing his throat. “All I'm saying, is that I think you clocked it.” he raised his hands in surrender.

You groaned, falling back onto your couch in defeat. “What do I dooooooo?”

“Well… what do you want to do?“ Your friend leaned back into the corner of the couch he always claimed.

What did you want to do? As odd as you felt it all to be in the beginning, you accepted the matter without complaint. And slowly, but surely, the couple had been ingrained into your life, almost like you were a part of the relationship. Always just a boundary or two away from being able to say you were in a throuple. You were perfectly okay with all of it. But you hadn't ever thought about actually being in the relationship. You cared for them both very dearly. Jihoon was your oldest friend, and Seungcheol had thundered his way into your life with a conviction and stubbornness that only he could possess.

Truly, you're grateful to be attached at the hip with them. You always called them ‘your boys,’ because it really felt like they were yours. They were a way around you that they only were with each other, and you took pride in that.

“I mean-” Vernon piped up once again. “-you’re basically dating them already, why not tack on the title and it's added benefits.”

True, true.

In order to fully understand yourself, you thought about your life if you decided to turn them down. A life where they treated you like everybody else. That is if they even still spoke to you. Yeah… no. Not doing that.

Throuple it is.

The next time you hung out with the couple, your were practically shaking with nerves. You really had no clue what to say. You considered calling and telling them you were sick, but you realized that they'd probably drop everything to coddle you. Vernon, who never seemed to leave your home, basically wrestled you out the door.

“What if I'm wrong!?” You screeched as he pulled you into the hallway.

“Trust me! You're not!” He huffed as he finally got you close to the elevators. “They want that cookie, ____!” He pushed into the first elevator that opened.

You could only gawk at his words. Foul mouthed boy.

So here you were, in Jihoon's living for what was likely the millionth time, nervously chewing on popcorn while the couple argued about what movie you should all watch. Seungcheol wanted an action movie that you didn't catch the name of, and Jihoon wanted to watch an animated movie that was likely going to make you cry.

Jihoon turned to you with a fire in his eyes. “We won't watch either then! Cupid, you pick!”

Your eyes widened at being addressed so suddenly. You looked between the two of them with furrowed brows.

You picked Howl’s Moving Castle. Seemed like a good in between. Speaking of in between, guess where you were. Sandwiched between the beefy men once again. No surprise there. You watched diligently as Howl whisked Sophie away from the predatory soldiers. The lovers seemed much less invested in the movie they've seen a hundred times, chattering with one another quite literally behind your back. You didn't mind of course, the film was pretty much tattooed on your brain as well, so every now and then you'd hone in on their conversation before going back to focusing on the TV.

You were also plotting. Well… attempting to plot. You still had no clue on how to go about letting them know that you're privy to their own schemes. Do you just say it? Like ‘hey, I know you guys want me, let's do this shit.’ That seemed… not ideal. What if-

Your thoughts were cut off by a small gasp followed by Jihoon's voice. “Seungcheol!”

“Don't Seungcheol me!” The elder's hand flew over his chest, as if wounded.

“Stop being a freak while Howl’s Moving Castle plays!” Jihoon fires back.

The two of them got louder. You only leaned back, trying to decipher exactly what just happened.

“I was just saying!” Seungcheol defended.

“____ is literally sitting between us! Have some decorum!”

“Ain't nothing she ain't heard before!”

Ah okay. Seungcheol was being freaky again. Checks out.

Normally, you'd just kick back and laugh as they went on and on. But today, you were arguing with your own demons, really taking in what was being said in reference to you. Seungcheol was always a flirt, minding at all if you were there to witness sexual way he spoke to his boyfriend, and he always “joked” about including you in their… activities. But Jihoon was keen on not scaring you away with Seungcheol's raunchy behavior. It was one of the things that had confused you a lot in the beginning. Seungcheol's behavior was far from appropriate, but Jihoon was less worried about his man saying sexual things to you, and more worried about you not wanting to be around them anymore. You shrugged it off as a joke seeing as Seungcheol had always been kind of a hoe.

“Oh look what you did, the poor girl is frozen.” Jihoon took in you stiff appearance, convinced that they'd really fucked up this time. “You've actually scared her this time around.” His voice actively became more gentle, in fear of you running off.

Seungcheol's face visibly softened. “Shit. I'm sorry, ____, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.” He slowly made some space between the two of you, Jihoon followed suit.

You blinked trying to collect your thoughts. “That's not-” You looked at him, taking in how sincere he was being. “I'm not… I was just-” Damn, if only you could form a fucking sentence right now.

The concern on Seungcheol's face only worsened with every second that passed. Jihoon ever so gently places a hand on your shoulder. You turned to face him.

“Hey, it's okay. We know we're a lot. Just… you can tell us if it's too much.”

“No! That's not it!” You shot up from your seat, spilling the popcorn in your lap. You'll clean that up later. “I'm not uncomfortable!” You asserted.

The lovers looked at you, surprised by your outburst.

“I just- fuck, how do I say this?” You scratched at your head hoping to form a tangible thought. “You guys… have always been this way with me. And I've always kinda wondered why… and I think that I've finally put two and two together.”

You glanced at them to try and gauge their reactions, but other than furrowed brows, their expressions gave away nothing. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you continued.

“Call me crazy if I'm wrong.” You chuckled nervously. “But is there a chance… that maybe you both-” Your heart was beating out of your chest. This was it, now or never. “-have feelings for me?”

You flinched at your own words, squeezing your eyes shut. You couldn't bear to look at them. What you just said was insane, it was even more so to say to their faces. You readied yourself to be called an idiot and laughed at, or worse, they just look at you awkwardly and ask you to leave. Oh just the thought made it hard to breathe.

“____.” A gentle voice called your name. You finally opened your eyes to find Jihoon standing in front of you with Seungcheol right beside him. “Hey, you're not crazy.” He shook his head, a small smile on his face.

“We're literally insane about you.” Seungcheol added.

Jihoon shoved the taller man in his side, his eye twitching. “Tone it down!” He said through gritted teeth.

You chuckled at the antics, even in your state of semi panic. You adored these fools. The lovers smiled as your laugh reached their ears.

“It's okay if you don't feel the same, we-”

“Are you kidding!?” You cut off Seungcheol. “As integrated as I've been in this relationship, I'd literally cry like it was a real breakup if it ended here.” You ran your hands down your face, exasperated. All that anxiety for nothing.

Seungcheol could no longer help himself. He launched at you, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing you tightly. You'd hug him back if you could move your arms. He quickly pulled Jihoon into the hug as well, making sure you were all pressed together like pancakes.

“This is great, Cheol.” You coughed out. “But my lungs are collapsing.”

When Seungcheol showed no signs of moving, Jihoon pinched his side, causing him to yelp.

“What the hell, baby!?” Seungcheol cried out.

“You're gonna kill her before we can even make her our girlfriend!” The pale man scowled.

Seungcheol messaged his side. “Yeah… that would be bad, wouldn't it…” He muttered mindlessly.

You found yourself laughing again. Jihoon pinched the bridge of his nose as Seungcheol collected himself.

“Can we do this?” Jihoon pleaded.

“Yeah okay!” Seuncheol started, determined. “How?”

Jihoon's eyes went wide. “Like we practiced, Cheolie!?”

Practiced? All this effort to ask you out? You were extremely flattered. Truthfully, you would've been satisfied with a ‘be our girlfriend.’

“I know, but I can't remember what I'm supposed to say, baby. I'm sorry.” Seungcheol scratched his arm.

Jihoon blinked a few times. “Okay… that's fine.” Jihoon comforted, placing a hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Just ask her.”

“Me? Are you sure you don't want to?”

“I'm going to punch you in your beautiful face.”

“Okay! Okay! Understood!”

“Hey, guys?” You spoke up, doing your best not to fall out from how cute they were being. Just the sweetest guys. They looked at you with big, hopeful eyes. “I was wondering if the two of you wanted to be my boyfriends?”

“Yes!”

“Absolutely!”

Both voices hit you at once. You could only beam at two men standing in front of you. “Well that was easy.” You giggled.

“Yeah, and it only took you a year.” Jihoon scrunched his face at you and crossed his arms.

“Hey!” You pointed at him. “Don't give me that! I was being decent!”

“Cupcake.” Seungcheol chimed in, leaning on Jihoon's shoulder. “There was nothing decent about any of this.” He raised a brow at you.

You thought back to all of what was essentially soft core porn you witnessed, and could only nod in agreement. None of this was decent.

“Just because you two are whores, doesn't mean I had to be one.” You raised your brow in judgement.

“If you stuck around to watch, I think that makes you just as much of a whore as we are.” Jihoon narrowed his eyes at you, his lips quirked into a smirk.

Well then…

You looked down at your feet, taking note of the popcorn that still needs to be cleaned up.

“I should clean that up.” You mumbled.

Seungcheol wheezed at the topic change as he moved to do it for you. “I got it, my love.”

Oh. My love. You could get used to that.

Jihoon flopped onto the couch, ensuring to pull you down with him. He basically wrapped around you like a Koala. You reciprocated, tangling your limbs with his and giggling as you watched your boyfriend clean.

Ooh that had a nice ring to it. Your boyfriend. Your's and Jihoon's boyfriend. You and your boyfriend's boyfriend. Yeah that's good stuff.

Seungcheol soon joined the two of you, enveloping you both in his large arms with ease. It helped that you and Jihoon had essentially merged into one person while he was cleaning. Howl's Moving Castle was about half of the way through, and the three of you let it play just to talk over it some more.

“Did you really do that?” Jihoon's eyes widened in horror as you told him about how they had Vernon to thank for being in your presence tonight. “You're neighbors probably heard.” He held his hand over his mouth, immensely worried about the social implications.

“And it only got worse when he screamed ‘they want that cookie.’” You looked off into the distance with a thousand yard stare as you thought about your poor nextdoor neighbors, Mrs Song and her husband. Awful, just awful.

Jihoon choked on air, coughing into his hands. “What!?”

“Well he wasn't wrong.” Seungcheol commented.

“Cheol!” Jihoon slapped his arm.

“Oh my god, she's our girlfriend. What more could you want?” Seungcheol groaned.

“I don't know, maybe buy her dinner first, you freak!” Jihoon scolded.

“We buy her dinner! Often!”

“A proper date! We have to take her on a proper date! Then we can talk about whatever…” Jihoon gestures vaguely at Seungcheol. “This is!”

“What does that even- you know what, never mind.” Seungcheol waved him off. “You weren't even this by the book when we started dating. If I remember correctly, you basically begged me to-”

“Genuine question.”Jihoon cut him off. “Do you ever shut the fuck up? Just genuinely.”

You could not breathe. That's how hard you were laughing. Tears pricked at your eyes as you gripped Seungcheol's arm to find some sort of stability. You hadn't noticed the conversation came to a halt until you managed to catch your breath. You blinked away the tears in your eyes and noticed Seungcheol and Jihoon looking at you. Their eyes were all sparkly and wide, and they had soft smiles on their faces.

“What?” You breathe out.

“Nothing.” Seungcheol spoke up. “We're just… so happy that you're here.” Jihoon hummed in agreement.

You felt your heartbeat quicken. You looked at two lovers, your two lovers, with a full heart. And you were damn happy to be there.

(⁠*⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠)⁠/⁠～⁠♡

A/N I really just wanted some CheolHoon in my life. I'm pretty vague about describing people's reactions so I'm trying to get better at that, but I hope I do a well enough job for now. Don't even talk to me about describing surroundings. Plans to expand upon this lil au. Moments with Seungcheol, Moments with Jihoon, make out sesh, bc they don't actually kiss in this, and that's kinda criminal.

But anyways, Thank you for reading! If you liked it, tell me in reblogs or comments! I'd love to hear your thoughts!

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mindless-existence1 · 2 days ago

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The JJK men and your nail appointments

Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Sukuna, Toji, Megumi, Yuji,

Gojo loves spoiling his girlfriend that's common knowledge. He likes going with you and pick out the color and just hang out with you with you.

Hed also always pick blue because duh thats his color and your his girl. All the nail ladies would love him cuz he brings in treats for them and is always so nice. If hes ever not there they ask about ti and tell you to marry him soon.

Geto would come to the appointments sometimes but its more rare. Hes used to funding you and the girls activities so he has no problem paying.

You convinced him to get his nails done once and he wont admit it but he really liked it. He'd like to help you choose what you get but honestly he thinks you pick good colors all on your own.

Nanami is a firm believer of "happy wife happy life" but not in that misogynistic way but if you are happy then thats all he really needs in life. So of course hes willing to pay for your appointments.

He likes them to be a suprise for what they are to see what you came up with. He loves to spoil you and he has the funds to do so so hed let you get whatever.

Sukuna has those beautiful long purple nails and you think he doesnt go to his own nail appointments? Hunny he has his own nail lady thst comes straight to his palace of course he hooks you up with them.

Hell be a bit grumpy about it but also he might mention something about getting the same color as him. Totally not to match its just a good color....he swears.

Toji is broke. Sadly its true. That dont mean hes not willing to find the money to pay for them. It hurts his pride and masculinity if you have to buy something that he should be paying for.

He says "Dont worry bout it ma" and then someone has the money the next day. He doesnt really care what you get, he doesnt really understand all the names for it so if you like it he doesnt care.

Megumi is the kinda guy to take care of himself in a skin care, hair routine, kinda way so that means he takes care of his hands. He does it all himself but he understands wanting to get you nails done.

I dont know if hed have the fund for it but hed help cover the costs. He wouldnt ever get something himself but when you show him what you got he thinks they're pretty no matter what.

Yuji is the type of guy to not be afraid to get a little something on his nails too. Anything too crazy interferes with his fighting style but say you got long nails with flower decals. He got little flowers painted over a clear gloss on short nails.

Same as Megumi he would be able to help eith the costs, and same as Gojo all the nail ladies love him cuz hes so sweet and adorable.

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yungbludz · 3 days ago

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En Su Casa

SUMMARY: well deserved rest days back at home feel like torture for the champion…

WARNINGS: smut

You didn’t know exactly when or why things took a weird and unexpected— very predictable though— turn. Whether it was when Carlos finally came back home with you or when he laid in his bed after months of constant traveling around the globe. What you did know was that he was… restless.

His family had known you for a while yet you had been to their place only a handful of times. Carlos wasn’t home that often either so you mostly spent your time together during tournaments or on a beach somewhere warm. When he asked you to go back home with him you didn’t even hesitate. Anything for the champion, no? Oh boy, you were in for a ride.

At first you didn’t even notice. Well, you didn’t put two and two together at least. When you walked into his house, his parents were making dinner together. His whole family was there for their champion and you felt pride and joy overwhelm you as they congratulated him warmly. Carlos thanked each and every one of them, hugging some and kissing some others before excusing the two of you to go put your bags in his room.

“Can I take a shower before dinner? I feel gross,” you commented as you tried to find a spot for your bag. You didn’t even acknowledge Carlos, being very surprised his room was in its usual messy state — courtesy of his mom.

“Of course. Maybe we can even shower together and save some time, no?” You were used to this kind of jokes. Carlos was always rather flirty with you but it didn’t mean that he always wanted to act upon his eleven year old jokes. In hindsight you should have seen the way he was eyeing you up and down or how he was already taking his shirt off. Yet you giggled and brushed it off, grabbing your clothes and closing the door behind you.

The next hint should have been after that dinner. You were helping loading the dishwasher with Carlos— which should have been odd enough to ring a bell since Carlos was not one to volunteer to help. He was passing you the dirty dishes to put them in. His mother had insisted you let her do the hard work but you shook your head and told her she should relax. You were staying there for a few days, the least you could do was help out around the house. Carlos had quickly stood up and followed you. Even his own family shared a look of confusion.

You were listening to his family banter coming from outside. It wasn’t hot yet in Murcia which allowed you to enjoy a chill evening out on their little terrace. Carlos was awfully quiet for someone who didn’t know what quietness meant.

“Everything okay?” You had asked at some point turning around. Carlos looked up from the pile of dirty dishes and smiled. You should have noticed it wasn’t his usual lovey dovey grin: it was a smirk.

“You are so sweet. Taking care of my mom and of my family,” he stated nonchalantly. You smiled back and shrugged your shoulders, resuming the activity of putting dishes in the dishwasher.

“It’s no problem. Your mom deserves some rest,” you replied absentmindedly.

“Hopefully you’re taking care of me next,” he had murmured. And maybe, just maybe, if you had seen the look on his face you would have understood his words’ true meaning. But you weren’t facing him.

“I always take care of you, sweetie,” you said sweetly. Carlos sighed and tried to say something back so that you could get him but his grandmother stepped inside the house. You didn’t notice, too engrossed in your conversation with his grandma but Carlos rolled his eyes and sighed annoyed. Not at you, but at the situation he was finding himself. Every time he tried something either you wouldn’t get the memo or one of his family members cockblocked him.

The next time he tried something funny was around bed time. His extended family had finally left and the rest of the house had gone to bed. You were brushing your teeth, washing your face and getting ready to sleep while Carlos laid in his bed only wearing a pair of boxers with his hands behind his head. The memory of his win in Rome only a distant memory now. There was something else he wanted now, almost more than winning in Paris again.

When you finally came back into his room he eyed you up and down. You were wearing a simple t-shirt and shorts. Nothing fancy or sexy. But it was the most attractive thing on earth for him, maybe because he had started to think with his dick and not his brain.

“Amor, vengas aquí,” he called for you as you paid him no attention. One thing Carlos was most of the time was needy. He needed your whole attention every single time. It was endearing to be fair. You locked your phone and crawled on the bed to lay next to him but he redirected you so that you sat in his lap.

“I missed you,” he mumbled tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You grinned confused.

“Missed me? We have been together the whole day,” you reminded him but he pouted and shook his head. His hands fell to your naked thighs and stayed there, caressing the skin.

“C’mere,” you leaned in to kiss him. He wasn’t entirely wrong: you had been together the whole day but you were always surrounded by family members. Carlos welcomed you in his arms. You pecked his lips but he was the one to deepen the kiss. His hands moving from your legs to your waist to pull you closer, his mouth moving slowly yet hungrily against yours. He was a good kisser, always been. The type of kisser to make your legs wobble and insides twist. But you knew a few tricks too. You knew he liked it when your pulled his hair gently or when you bit his bottom lip.

What had started off as a simple kiss turned into a sloppy make out session. Carlos was so invested in it that he forgot where he was and how quiet he needed to be. He was so used to hotel rooms where he could be as loud as he wanted because he always booked his room as far away as possible from his team that it didn’t cross his mind the fact that his parents were two doors away from his bedroom.

“Shh…” you giggled when he let out a grunt. He let out a breathy giggle and enjoyed your lips on his for a little longer. Your nails scratched his scalp as you kissed him. And then, suddenly, you pulled away.

“Time to sleep,” you had reminded him while trying to get off him. Carlos looked at you in shock and bewilderment. He glanced at you and then down at his lap, his white boxers did nothing to conceal his growing bulge.

“Amor?”

“Yes, we can cuddle. But don’t snore,” and with that you turned around and went to sleep. Carlos was so confused he didn’t even protest at first. He was so confident all that kissing would lead up to what he wanted that the thought of you just going to sleep after getting him all worked up baffled him. Did you really not get in the mood after making out? Did he do something wrong? Oh God. What if you didn’t like having sex with him? Did he not satisfy you anymore? Carlos tried to remember if there was ever a time when he behaved selfishly during sex. Did you fake your orgasms? Oh God. Was he one of those guys? Those who can’t tell when their girls are faking it? Carlos started to spiral. Going to sleep was now the last thing he could do but you seemed to be fast asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow.

Therefore Carlos turned, flipped around, huffed and puffed as he tried to find the right position. Yet the problem wasn’t the position, it was thinking you weren’t attracted to him anymore.

What Carlos didn’t realize was that his single sized bed wasn’t big enough for you to not feel every single movement he made. Therefore you weren’t getting any sleep either. Thanks to him. It was around midnight when you finally took matters into your hands and turned around to look at him.

“What’s wrong?” You asked him. He was taken off guard because he genuinely thought you were sleeping.

“Nada…” he tried to lie but he was the worst liar on earth.

“C’mon tell me. Why aren’t you sleeping? Whatever is bothering you is bothering me too since I can’t sleep if you keep moving around,” you sighed and sat up to turn on the little light he had on his nightstand. Carlos debated whether or not he should have said something. He hated showing he was insecure to you but he also knew it was better to work it out together than to hide it.

“¿No te gusta como follamos?” (Do you not like how we fuck?) it was so random that you stared at him with the most puzzled look you could come up with. Was he on drugs? Did he drink any wine at dinner? The lack of answer made Carlos internally panic.

“You don’t? Oh god, are you going to break up with me?” He blurted out panicking. Uh? You stared at him as if another head had grown out of his neck.

“What are you talking about? Where is all of this coming from?” You finally spoke. He had blindsided you with this sudden question.

“You have been avoiding having sex with me,” he stated matter of factly. You tilted your head to the side and furrowed your brows. Uh? You couldn’t recall a single time when you had rejected his advances.

“Earlier. I thought we were going to fuck but then you went to bed,” he finally explained. Your eyes widened and you couldn’t help but laugh. It didn’t calm Carlos down at all. Now you were laughing at him. Oh God, it was over. He was officially single.

“Don’t laugh at me,” he pouted and crossed his arms looking down.

“Oh no, baby. I’m laughing because I had no idea you wanted to have sex. Carlos, we are literally two doors away from your parents. I thought it wouldn’t be appropriate,” you tried to explain your thought process. That finally calmed Carlos. So you didn’t hate him? Good to know.

“But why not?” He kept pouting. He was cute when he did that. You smiled and caressed his cheek sweetly.

“Because, baby, you are the loudest person ever when we fuck and I don’t think either of us wants your family to know that,” your point was more than valid. Carlos embarrassingly smiled but didn’t give up. He was confident he could keep it quiet.

“Pero puedo ser quieto,”

“You couldn’t even be quiet with my panties in your mouth in Rotterdam and Juanki was next door,” you reminded him. You weren’t wrong. His coach side eyed him the whole flight back home. Carlos wanted to talk back but he knew you were absolutely right. Yet he couldn’t change his mind. The bulge in his boxers had a mind of its own.

“Pero amor…” he started to talk and put his big puppy eyes to work. You giggled and shook your head. You weren’t going to let him get away with this. Carlos grabbed your hand and tried to pull you closer by also grabbing your waist.

“Carlos,” you warned him pointing a finger to his chest. He was playing with fire.

“Pero, amorc mira lo que me haces. No puedo estar así toda la noche, ¿no?” He took your hand in his and led it downward till you reached his boxers. He was hard. You rolled your eyes but you knew he was working his magic on you.

“Dale, amor. Te juro que puedo estar quieto,” he mumbled while kissing your shoulder and then your neck, leading to your cheek and then his mouth ghosting over your lips. Damn. He was hard to resist.

“The first sound I hear coming out of your mouth I am stopping,” you warned him. He nodded like a good boy and smiled. Of course he always got what he wanted…

You didn’t know how hard it was to be quiet. You assumed Carlos would be the one struggling the most but you were wrong. He was sitting up against his headboard while you rode him. You were sure your jaw was going to snap soon because of how hard you were clenching it. Carlos licked his lips and sighed. His hands guiding your hips as he imposed an atrociously slow rhythm. You could feel every inch coming in and out of you. It was torture.

“Carlos,” you whined as he slowed down.

“Quieta,” he scolded you. The audacity… you looked away and tried to breathe in and out. This wasn’t pleasure, this was medieval torture and why on earth was he enjoying this so much? You bit your bottom lip and clenched around him every time he bottomed out. He gave you a warning look but that didn’t stop you.

“Y/N,” he grunted as you continued. He couldn’t expect you to keep going like this the whole night.

“Shut up,” you shushed him. Your hands holding onto his broad shoulders for leverage. He gripped your waist and let you finally move. And so you did. You went faster and he began to struggle. His mouth dropped open as you rode him the way you both liked. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the point where your bodies were conjoined, the way his cock slipped in and out of you.

“Joder,” he grunted sinking his nails in your flesh. You didn’t stop, resting your forehead against his as you tried to find a more stable position. The skin to skin wasn’t very quiet but you prayed the door and the walls would muffle the sound. Whereas you took care of Carlos’ increasing grunts by slapping your hand over his mouth. Of course he couldn’t shut the fuck up.

“Carlos, I swear—“ you groaned when he let out a deep grunt. He couldn’t even be quiet on court. What did you expect?

The Spaniard took you off him, which left you puzzled and annoyed. He flipped the two of you around so that you would be lying on your back and he sneaked between your legs, his face hovering over yours and his arms around your head.

“What are you—“ he pushed your legs back so that he could have more access. His face was soon hid in your neck where all of his grunts and moans were muffled. The angle switch did wonders on your core. You sank your teeth in your bottom lip to silence yourself.

“Fuck,”

“Be quiet,” he reminded you smugly. The prick.

His pace was ruthless and didn’t let you even breathe. He was going harder than you expected but you could also feel your orgasm build up faster.

“Amor, un día me vas a matar,” (you’re going to kill me one day) he muttered breathlessly. You wanted to answer something snarky back but you didn’t trust your own voice in that moment. Carlos’ stamina and strength on court were just as impressive in bed. His hips ruthlessly slapped against yours till you couldn’t take it anymore. His teeth bit your neck, his hands fisted the sheets as he teetered over his own orgasm.

“Correte para mí,” he begged you in your ear and you could only do as you were told. Carlos followed you right after, coming undone inside of you. His hot seed spilling into your throbbing core. You tried to be quiet in the process, biting onto his shoulder. Carlos pulled out after a few seconds and smirked when he saw his cum spill out of you and onto his sheets.

“Great, now we have to make the bed again,” you huffed and tried to sit up but Carlos quickly pushed you back down. He towered over you with a big smug, his naked and hard chest almost intimidating.

“I’m not done,”

#x reader #imagines #imagine #carlos alcaraz x reader #love #requests #carlos alcaraz #smut #carlos alcaraz imagines #Carlos alcaraz smut #carlos alcaraz imagine

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alarajrogers · 12 hours ago

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This guy is the head of a medical center, not a health insurance company. Do we actually know of reasons why we should be celebrating his death, or are we confusing "CEO of a company that actually helps people get better" with "CEO of a company that denies people health care every chance it gets?"

There are some medical centers that are total shit and actively harmful to their patients, but most are more or less okay, and if you're not the CEO of a company that makes billions of dollars, you are probably not part of the ultra-wealthy class that ruins everything for everyone. Was this guy a billionnaire? Was he deliberately defrauding people and the government by billing Medicaid or Medicare for services that were never rendered? Is his medical center known for transphobia or preventing women from getting abortions?

Look, I cheered on the Claims Adjuster's righteous murder of the UHC CEO as much as anyone, but that does not mean that, generically, the health care industry is full of people who need to die. Health insurance and health care have become almost opposites, and if you care about care, you are opposed to the practices of the health insurance companies. That is not at all the same thing as health care, or medical centers that provide health care.

Maybe this guy deserved it, maybe he didn't, but he wasn't a health insurance CEO so I'm not cheering his death unless I know he was a shitlord and his company hurt people. Because a medical center does not do that just by existing; it has to be working badly to hurt people. Whereas health insurance companies that do what they do efficiently and well do hurt people by existing because they all try their best to deny as much care as they can.

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sadboyeddie · 2 days ago

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𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠’𝐬 𝐎𝐟𝐟 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐁𝐨𝐛

Summary: Bob has been acting different. You intend to find out why.

Warnings: (MDNI 18+) Fem!Reader, No Use Of Y/N, Blow Job, Sex Club, Smut, Dirty Talk

A/N: It’s been a hot minute since I have written smut so I hope it’s passable. Let me know tho.

WC: 5.8k

Something was off with Bob.

He was acting strange somehow.

More secretive

You've gotten used to his many moods and behaviours since living together at the Watchtower. In fact with how many of the members of the team were trained to basically not feel shame you knew far too much about some of them.

Walker on the other hand is just a dude who doesn't care. He's given up on shame.

But with Bob his day to day has become routine, a schedule he keeps to. He says it helps him manage the darker parts of his life, at first you thought he meant the Void; but he was also talking about his older habits.

Bob had been clean for a long while now and there has never been an indication of a relapse, and honestly you're a little mad and disappointed with yourself for even implying there might be.

It's just Bob doesn't sneak out; he always tells at least someone, usually Yelena, where he's going. He doesn't clam up and start spluttering half baked excuses when asked what he did the previous night. He never blows off movie night, usually the first there in the common room with his blanket, waiting for you to arrive with the popcorn.

But he has been. He has been sneaking out, has been clamming up, he has been skipping out on movie night.

You try to casually ask around but for a bunch of spies who usually have no boundaries they seem very nonplussed about your queries.

Yelena assures you it's fine and to just leave it alone, Ava hasn't even really noticed and John says he's probably got a secret girlfriend.

You trust Yelena, you know how close her and Bob are. It once drove you made with jealousy but after realising there was no romantic feelings between them the fogged cleared and you realised how good it was for Bob to have a best friend like Yelena.

Also you didn't want to be one of those people that got jealous every time a member of the opposite sex talked to someone you liked.

You do sometimes wish it was you though.

Anyway, since everyone was of so little help you decided to figure it out yourself. You were a pretty decent spy yourself.

Like Bob's normal routine of laundry on Sunday, grocery shopping on Wednesday and changing the bed linens on Saturday; his mysterious night time activity was also on a schedule.

Twice a week, Tuesday and Thursday; leaving the tower at 7:30pm on the dot.

You watch as he passes Yelena, offering her a small smile and a nod in greeting before getting on the elevator.

She doesn't even ask where he's going. She must know something.

You decide against cornering her and asking again, you know there's no point. Not even Hydra would be able to torture the information out of her. Where's Bucky when you need him?

Okay, that was a little rude. Thank god there's no telepaths in the building.

You wait until you hear the door to Yelena's room close before heading towards the elevator, you watch as the numbers gradually countdown until reaching the first floor. You smack the button and wait for it to come back up, contemplating taking the stairs but there's no way you'd make it to the bottom in time.

You should have planned for this.

Before deciding to just base jump from a window the doors ding and you step inside, as you go to close the door you hear Walker calling for you to hold it. Feigning deafness you hit the 'close' button a few extra times and thankfully they shut before he makes it.

That last thing you see before the doors shut is John's annoyed yet confused gaze.

You impatiently tap your foot against the cool metal of the floor, why is this taking so long? Has the elevator always been this slow? What if there was an emergency?

When the doors open with a ding you let out a huff and speed walk over to the buildings exit, nodding to the security guard behind the desk.

When you're on the street you frantically look around for the familiar flop of brown curls, the street is fairly empty this time of night but even with the street lights it's still dark.

"What way did Bob go?" you call back to the guard.

With a slightly startled jump, he puts down he word jumble and points to the left, you give him a quick thank you before making your way down the sidewalk.

Thankfully you don't have to break out into a jog because a few meters up the road is Bob.

You take a second to fall back a bit, getting too close in your eagerness to find him.

He has his airpods in and is bopping his head a bit to whatever song he is listening to.

Usually you'd find that cute and endearing but you're in work mode right now. No time for fun.

You're feeling immense guilt with each step you take. He's done nothing to truly make you doubt his trust and yet here you are stalking him. The man just brings this out in you. You swear before moving to the tower you used to have boundaries.

Bob is your friend, one of your closest. You spend the most time with him then anyone, hell, most nights he ends up in bed with you.

When it started he'd make up poor excuses; glare from the street lights (50 floors up?), cold in his room, (he usually slept with the A/C on cause he runs hot), Alexei snores, that one you believed.

But you could never find yourself to care because you quickly realised that you slept better next to Bob. Your nightmares weren't as frequent and you ran cold so you enjoyed having a personal heater in your bed. He's like a barnacle that attaches itself to you as soon as he hits the mattress and you find that his touch grounds you.

He's told you that it helps him too, you did notice that after the first few times the dark bags under his eyes started to recede, and maintenance wasn't having to come up and change as many light bulbs anymore, when Bob would wake from his nightmares he'd let out a pulse of energy that was like an EMP.

Much to your disappointment nothing sexual ever came of it, Bob being far too polite and shy. The closest you have ever gotten is feeling his hard on in the morning before he stutters out and apology and rushes from your room. You always felt a tad guilty wishing more did come from it, he saw you as a means of comfort and you wanted to climb him like a tree.

You often got the feeling he reciprocated your feelings, that was until you saw him interact with anyone else. All smiles and crimson cheeks, biting his lips and meaningful stares. Stupid Bob making everyone he interacts with feel special.

You thought you had made a new breakthrough with your relationship when it became more playful and sassy but you noticed once again he became like that with others when he had warmed up to them enough.

Still you had your own things that you did together, apart from sleeping in the same bed, you had tv shows that just the two of you would watch, you'd wear his clothes and he'd put his hair up in one of your scrunchies when it would get into his eyes when reading. Sometimes when he was out shopping he'd buy you some clothes, stuff he thought you'd like.

You were even wearing one of the shirts now; a grey shirt with a small butterfly decal on the chest.

You're pulled out of your thoughts when Bob crosses the road, you wait for a car to pass before following, making sure to maintain a distance.

You end up following him for a good twenty minutes before he makes a sharp right turn down an alleyway, you're grateful he walked, you would have never been able to catch up to him if he took a taxi or uber.

But you know Bob likes to walk, he says it helps regulate his moods. Every morning he goes for a walk around the local park, sometimes you join but he does like to go alone, listening to music and getting his steps in is almost as beneficial as therapy according to him.

You peak out from behind the brick wall of the apartment building and watch as Bob takes a quick glance around before knocking a pattern onto a metal door.

Your heart sinks into your ass as you watch him enter the sketchy building, your fears being all but confirmed.

You spend what feels like an eternity fighting with yourself, deciding whether or not to go home or go drag his ass out of whatever crack den he's found himself in.

You know you don't technically have a right to do that, you're not his girlfriend or parole officer, but you promised him the last time he almost Voided out that no matter what you'll be there to pull him from the fire, no matter what.

You know that the only thing that's holding you back is the obvious rage Bob will feel towards you when he realises you violated his trust but it's something you're willing to deal with.

You march with purpose to the end of the alleyway and think back for a second, remembering the door knock.

Shuffling awkwardly you wait with baited breath until the small socket slides open, a pair of eyes give you a once over before the door creaks open.

You're instantly met with a wall of sound, loud music and a deep bass coming from behind the broad shouldered bouncer.

"You comin' or what?" he asks, clearly annoyed.

You duck your head and slide past him, confusion hitting you like a truck.

Walking through a dark hallway, you make your way towards the source of music, the closer you get the more your eyes start to adjust, there's small dim lights on the walls but they do nothing.

When you reach the end the door is covered by a heavy black curtain and another attendant is standing by.

They barely pay you any mind as they lift it back for you to walk past.

In all your years of espionage nothing could have trained you for this.

You stand there, eyes wide as you take in your surroundings.

This room is better lit but still dark; mood lighting. All across the room is people in various forms of nudity and undress. Masses of skin and writhing bodies. The room is a red and almost all surfaces are velvet, various toys and lewd art decorating the walls.

You're no stranger to sex and intimacy but you are way out of your depth here.

For a brief moment as you watch what is happening around you and forget why you came.

You take note of a bar at the back of the room, male and female waitstaff walking around naked with only black and white collars to their necks, if not for the trays of alcohol in their hands you'd think they were part of the activities.

Although judging by the waitress to the right of you being taken against a table perhaps they do join in the fun.

The wanton moaning and sounds of completion start to get to you, your mouth going dry as your body heats up. You go to leave, this is all too much and you can't focus, but as you turn to go your eyes catch on a figure, a very familiar figure.

This time when you see Bob he's only wearing his jeans, top half completely bare, but that's not what stopped you in your tracks; the woman holding his hand and pulling him along looks like you!

You choke on the saliva that's filled your mouth as your mind short circuits. This woman features are far too similar to yours to be a coincidence.

Same hair; length and colour, same build; height and weight, and if you had to guess you'd say she may even have the same eye colour.

You watch as he follows along obediently, a small plastic bag swinging by his side and a smile on his face as he's being lead from the room, through more curtained doors.

The burning inside you is no longer from arousal and embarrassment, you now feel very jealous.

Anger and hurt also bubble under the surface. Why would he go out to a club and find someone who looks like you when you look like you?

Okay, that's not a smart argument but he already has you, so he doesn't need her.

"You're overdressed," a deep voice says from beside you. Snapping you from your intelligent thoughts.

You turn towards the man but quickly avert your gaze when you realise how very naked and very turned on he his.

He lets out a chuckle at your innocence before talking again, "first time?" his voice is a little louder to cut through the sea of groaning.

"That obvious?" your laugh is strained and forced but polite none the less.

"Very," he chuckles, if not for his bare body and this entire situation you wouldn't mind talking to him, he kind of looks like Prince Caspian. "You want a drink?"

"Desperately," you reply without thinking, your eyes now landing on his face, strictly on his face, "but I'm curious as to what goes on behind those curtains," you point to the door Bob went through.

"Private rooms," he points to he left, "glory hole booths," he grabs two glasses of brown liquid off a passing waiters tray and hands you one, "whiskey," he nods.

Your heart plummets at the information but your grateful for the drink, though whiskey has never been your favourite it will do in a crisis.

"Want a closer look?" his voice is deep and sultry and honestly if you weren't bat shit crazy about the ex addict that lived three rooms down from you, you'd probably take him up on his offer.

"I'll have to take a rain check," you shrug apologetically but the tall handsome man with seemingly black eyes seems to take no offense with your rejection.

"Another time," he smiles as he leaves you to it, his attention already quickly being taken away buy a dark haired woman.

You make your way around the crowd, nervous that if you walk through and get too close someone might grab you and pull you in.

When you reach the curtain there's no attendant there to usher you through, which you're relieved about. The less people to witness whatever you're doing or about to do the better.

This hallway is much better lit, there are sconces by each door which is adorned with a metal plate that labels the room.

On each side of the hallway there are five doors, you're probably about to see a lot of stuff you don't want to but you're desperate.

You place your ear against the cold wood of the first door on the left, hoping to hear voices or at the very least you might be able to pick out Bobs moans? He's got a pretty deep voice so you've always assumed his sounds of pleasure would be just as deep.

Unfortunately the door is very thick and any sound or voices you hear are muffled and faint.

You take a breath before slowly turning the knob, cracking open only enough to see if the occupants are either Bob or the doppelganger - doppelbanger.

You let out a small miserable chuckle at your stupid word play and a small relieved sigh when you see they aren't in here, that is until you hear the whip come down on the mans ass and thighs, you wince at the crack but the man makes a sound that you once heard in a nature documentary about tigers so you guess he's having a hell of a time.

Good for him, at least someone is.

You continue on with your pervy task of violation as you switch to the other door opposite to this one.

You're not sure much time has passed but you're down to the last two doors.

You admittedly took a little longer as one of the rooms really intrigued you, a woman on her back with her head handing off the bed as a man quite literally fucked her throat.

Maybe you were a bit of a voyeur.

Maybe you needed therapy.

But first you needed to find Bob.

What would you do when you find him? Burst into the room like some perverted knight in shinning armour? It's not like Bob was here against his will. Would you confess that you like him? Is this really the time and place?

The rational thoughts leave your head when you hear a loud broken moan coming from your left, you let out a pitiful noise (and squeeze your legs together, what is wrong with you?) as part of you already know that this is Bob's room.

With practiced ease you crack the door open and hurt your own feelings when you confirm your suspicions. There lies Bob on the bed, red and covered in sweat as the copy of you slides off him and collapses on the side. You notice she's not even naked but your focus is not on her.

You're screaming in your own head to turn away, go home and cry into some ice cream - or better yet nachos, but you've already crossed so many boundaries tonight why not a few more?

Bobs eyes are closed, a very fucked and blissed out expression covers his face as he fights to catch his breath, thanks to the large angled mirror at the head of the bed you can see everything. His length, thickness, the veins how it curves slightly to the left - and to your utter surprise; a stick-and-poke tattoo high on his upper thigh, is that Kermit (?), close to his dick.

Which now is starting to get hard again.

You remember having a rather detailed conversation with Alexei about the refractory periods of Super Soldiers, the conversation was funny until it wasn't. Yelena's obvious discomfort of the topic her father chose was humourous until he started to make it personal and then everyone was uncomfortable.

"You goin' to the booths after this, Robby?" Not You asks as she traces a perfectly manicured finger over his chest, making him tremble slightly.

"Yeah," his breathing is back to normal but his voice is soft and slow, "will you be in there tonight?" he seems so hopeful and that causes your heart to crack open just a little bit more.

"Not tonight," she sounds almost sad, "but there's some good one's in there."

By now Bob is almost completely hard again and he goes to sit up on the side of the bed, Not You follows suit. That's when you notice it. Notice the clothes the copy is wearing.

She's dressed just like you.

And not just in clothes you own and wear sometimes, no she's wearing almost the exact same thing you're wearing now.

Same grey shirt with black sleeves and a small butterfly decal, the black jean jacket that has fallen down her arms is the same as yours, hell, even the white velvet scrunchy in her hair is the same.

What in the Twilight Zone, Invasion of the Body Snatchers is going on here?

A brief glance lower and you realise even her underwear is the same, red lace! How did he know what you're wearing?

Whatever guilt you previously felt over violating Bob is gone because this perv is just as bad.

And the thing that should probably be stressful is that you don't care. You don't care even a little bit. Bob is so desperate for you he basically replicated you.

Even though you were right there!

Okay, so the anger is back.

In your moment of realisation you didn't notice Bob getting to his feet and getting dressed, even the Replicant has changed back to her other outfit, which was easy - nipple pasties and black lacy panties.

You close the door quietly and start to panic when Bob starts moving to leave. He can't catch you here now!

You hot foot it to the end of the hallway and out through the curtain, if you bravely risk your hygiene and safety by going through the Naked Sea you could probably make it out before Bob exits the hallway.

But the sight of Yelena standing in front of the exits causes you to stop still and let out a far too loud "what the fuck!"

Thankfully the man jackrabbiting into the woman near you and her sounds of tortured bliss drown out your frustrated cry.

The Jackrabbit man makes awkward eye contact with you - awkward for you, he seems to rather enjoy it.

Before you can stop yourself you give him a thumbs up and a "nice form!" before turning to the glory hole hallway, not even waiting to see the reply from the man.

This hallway is almost identical to the last, except there are double the amount of doors and each pair of doors are closer together. There's two signs above the entrance to the hallway; one with a large hole and a lewd drawing of a lower half; legs spread, the other more simple, a smaller hole with a penis coming through it.

You head down to the end of hallway and open the door to the right, the penis hole side.

Weird thing to say.

Thankfully it's empty, you lock the door behind you and take a seat on the admittedly comfy cushion and wait for this to all blow over.

You have to admit, the sound proofing in this place is pretty spectacular, the small speakers in the corner playing soft music also adds to the ambiance. This place is kinda nice. Maybe that's why Yelena was here.

Wait! Why the hell was she here? Who else comes here? Is this a hangout place for the Thunderbolts to decompress? How come you weren't invited?

Unfortunately you weren't meant to find peace because your quiet moment is interrupted by someone entering the stall connected to yours.

If you hadn't have been in such as rush you might have noticed the small lights next to the door that signified occupancy and that when you locked the door the light went from red to yellow, which meant the person inside was waiting for another.

But your earlier gloating about being a good spy was now invalid because you are a terrible spy.

You hear someone clear their throat on the other end followed by the shuffling of clothes. You go to rush out protests, putting your face dangerously close to the hole but that's when your eyes catch on something.

Hi-ho, Kermit the fucking frog.

What was he thinking, honestly.

"Is this o-okay?" his deep voice cuts through the silent tension, Bob completely unaware of the conundrum you're currently facing.

Whelp, when in Rome.

You try to drop your voice an octave lower before answering in a whisper, you'd rather be strapped to a car battery again then face the humiliation of Bob finding you here.

"F'course, sweetheart," you inwardly curse as the pet name you normally call Bob comes out automatically.

The desperate whimper Bob lets out proves that he didn't mind one bit.

"Like it, like it when you call me that," his voice is already wrecked but that could be chalked up to his previous activities.

A sour taste fills your mouth and you silently scold yourself.

This is a once in a lifetime opportunity and you will not ruin this for yourself!

In your brief trance Bob has slipped his cock through the hole, and you let out an audible gasp; not intending for it to be that loud you bite your lip.

"Like that, honey?" he asks, letting his pet name for you easily slip through his lips.

Or maybe he just calls everyone that, you think bitterly before scolding yourself again.

Stop it!

"It's thick," you hum, "I like that," you move a little closer and Bob lets out a small shutter at your warm breath against his member. You could really have some fun with this.

"Put it in your mouth, honey," he sounds desperate, pathetic, just like you feel, "suck on it, please."

His cock bobs in front of you, a small bead of pre cum gathers at the tip and you find yourself utterly entranced.

You lean forward and lick over the head, making sure to clean off all the salty liquid before wrapping your hand around the base.

His hips move closer to the wall giving you more to work with, suddenly you hear a slight thud above you followed by a muffled whine, if you had to guess Bob probably dropped his head against the wall in front of him.

A small breathy chuckle falls from your lips onto the underside of his cock, which in turn twitches in your hand. He's so sensitive.

You slowly lick the vein at the base all the way up to the tip, repeating the action a few more times just to spread some saliva around.

"Pl-please," you like when he begs, "I want more," he whines again.

"Be a good boy for me," you whisper, you think he didn't hear you but judging by the small curse you know he did. You remember Bucky saying how the Serum enhances the senses.

"I'll be good," he swears, "I'll be so good, I p-promise, honey."

You clench your thighs together, the deep vibration mixed with the desperation in his voice getting to you.

You lean forward and take the head of his cock in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and adding a tight suction before taking more of him in.

"Fuck!" he slams a fist down on the wall as you continue to suck him down, only stopping when he hits the back of your throat.

You hold him there for a minute, savouring the feeling of him, taking joy in the fact you're finally living out one of your fantasies.

Unfortunately you never mastered the whole gag reflex thing and the burning in your eyes and throat is becoming too much, you pull off of Bob with a loud gag followed by a whine before going to apologise, Bob doesn't let you.

"Fuck, honey, do that again," his voice comes out rushed, "please choke on my cock again."

This isn't your first blow job but a quick suck and fuck with a few men who weren't even close to the size of Bob really makes a difference.

You gracelessly wipe your eyes and nose before spitting on your hand and giving him a few strokes, base to tip, he slightly stutters forward with a groan.

You get higher on your knees and kiss the head of his cock twice before swallowing it down, making sure to cover your teeth the deeper you take him.

Before you can make it all the way down Bob lets out a broken whimper as he thrusts forward, his cock hitting the back of your throat hard making you gag, you pull back to collect yourself as you hear Bob rush out apologies.

You don't really hear him as you watch a thick string of saliva that's connected from your mouth to his cock, you watch mesmerised as it starts to sag down, before it breaks you lean forward and wrap your mouth around him again.

The words die on his lips and is replaced by a drawn out moan, deep and warm, one that you could find yourself getting used to hearing.

You don't shy away from the uncomfortable feeling of him at the back of your throat, instead you lean into the burn, with each and every gag Bob lets out a small sound of pleasure or a curse, every time you swallow around him; savouring every drop of pre cum that dribbles out of his cock he hits the wall with his hand.

He has his thrusting pretty much under control but each time one sneaks through, thankfully it's not hard enough to bring you to a stop.

You're suddenly reminded of the woman on the bed getting her face fucked, how she barely choked.

You try to remember hushed conversations whispered between friends in the middle of the night at high school sleepovers; if you relax the throat and breath through your nose it's much easier.

You tighten your fist that's still wrapped around the base of Bobs cock, too long to fit entirely in your mouth, and you rub your thumb on the underside, gently over his vein. A move you'd normally do when holding his hand while watching a move.

"Oh, fuck," his voice is raw and full of pleasure, "I'm c-close," you think you can hear scratching against the wall, "honey, I'm so close."

You relax your throat as much as you can while trying to breath through your nose, allowing yourself to feel pleasure, you reach down and unbutton your jeans.

"Yes, touch yourself," Bob whimpers, his sensitive hearing picking up on an almost soundless action, "cum with me, honey."

You push past the waistline of your underwear and groan at how wet you are, the vibration sends a thrill through Bobs cock and he lets out a debauched moan at the feeling.

Wasting no time you use two fingers to gather your slick before rubbing it over your sensitive clit, your whole body is wracked with a shiver at the feeling.

You get to work catching up on your orgasm, honestly you're not that far behind, you truly believe that you'd would have been able to cum from the feeling of Bobs cocks and rubbing your thighs together alone.

You match your fingers with the pace of your mouth, flicking your bundle of nerves when ever you flick your tongue over his tip.

"Switch, fuck, switch hands, honey," bob pleads and you slow down just a fraction making him whine, "want your slick on my cock," he begs.

A noise falls from your mouth that you never thought you could make, a moan mixed with a whimper, muffled by Bobs cock, you quickly follow his instructions and switch hands, but before you do you scoop up some of your wetness between your fingers.

As you make the switch your eyes widen at the sticky mess coating your digits, you are far more gone then you thought.

Bob cries out when he feels the warm wet heat of your other hand, he ruts against the hole uncaring of the protesting whines you let out.

He babbles out apologies but makes no move of stopping, "sorry, honey, can't stop," he's breathless and wrecked, "s'your fault, you did this," he blames, he sounds too far gone like he doesn't even know he's talking, "drive me wild, love your sweet mouth, wanna feel your pussy."

You pull back with a moan, unable to keep up with his new punishing pace. You can already feel the the back of your throat bruising.

"Wanted this for so long, imagine it all the time," your breath catches at his confession although you're not sure what he's confessing to exactly, "get so hard in bed next t'you, honey, wanna come on your sleeping body, fuck."

The hand that was rubbing your clit stills as you listen to Bob, now terrified, but still very much aroused, that he's figured out it's you.

"Yeah, sweetheart?" you pull back and spit the saliva that's pooled in your mouth onto his cock, "desperate for me?" you ask before taking him back into your mouth, you resume the movement on your clit, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge.

"Yes, fuck, yes, honey," he slams in deeper again, hips stuttering as he's reaching his end, "wanna wake you with my cock buried inside you, wanna live inside you," he lets a choked moan slip out, "please, wanna cum."

The depraved confession followed by the desperate plea send you careening over the edge, your broken cry is muffled on Bobs cock and the vibration of your wrecked sobs paired with the grazing of your teeth on his sensitive skin is sending him right behind you.

Loud groans fall from his lips, followed by a name that is unmistakably yours, as he paints your throat with his cum, "swallow it all," he begs breathlessly, "keep me inside of you, always."

You hollow out your cheeks as you milk him dry, making sure not to waste even a single drop, your fingers are still lazily stroking over your sensitive bud as you slowly come down from the high.

Bob lets out another whine as you pull of his softening cock, the air still thick with tension, but this time it's a different sort of tension.

He pulls himself through the hole and you wait, like a coward, for him to talk first. Like a never ending torture he drags this out, zipping himself up and making himself more presentable.

Finally, finally, he says something, "I'm sorry."

You're so caught off guard you make a small noise of confusion.

"I didn't mean to say those things," he says, his voice sounds a little guilty, "or call you by that name," he takes a heavy breath, "it's just someone I have a crush on." His small humourless chuckle makes you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

He doesn't know it's you!

Are you happy or disappointed?

A bit of both, really.

"S'okay," you whisper, deciding to keep up the lie, at least for now, "I liked it."

His laugh now is breathy and a bit lighter, "good," there's a bit of movement on his side before you hear the opening of his door, "thank you."

Before you can answer he's gone. You sit back on your legs and take a second to wait for him to leave and to wrap your head around what just happened.

You sucked Bob's dick.

You sucked Bob's dick and he has no idea.

Bob has a Kermit the frog tattoo.

You're going to have so much fun with this.

As all these very important thoughts run through your head you're suddenly snapped back to reality when the door opens and closes again, part of you is excited, hoping it's Bob but when a heavy, gruff and familiar Russian accent fills the room you let out an undignified yelp and scramble to leave.

Does everyone come to this fucking club?!

On the walk back to the tower Bob lets out a small smirk, his senses filled with your scent, a smell that's undeniably you. He couldn't believe his luck when he saw you peaking on him in the private room at the club.

He's going to have so much fun with this.

#my writing #thunderbolts #bob reynolds x reader #bob reynolds #bob reynolds x you #lewis pullman

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bitchesgetriches · 1 day ago

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Hi bitches! I work at a group home that will be teaching young adults with Intellactual and Developmental Disabilities (IDD) the skills nessesary to live independently with weekly visits from staff. For many of our folks, this'll be the first time living away from mom and dad and the first time they're given the rights and respect of an adult.

Which makes me concerned about sex education. It seems mom and dad forgot that disabled people can be horny and have treated their young adult as such. While our group home understands Dignity Of Risk and how we can't legally impose restrictions on personal relationships.

What resources, books, guides, etc should I have available? How do I present myself as someone who's cool and can talk about sex and can be trusted with deep secrets like needing to get a sex checkup and will keep things as private and low key? Im 26, I'm not that much older than these guys.

This is a little outside of our purview... so I went to the experts: Planned Parenthood!

PP has lessons specifically on teaching sex ed to adults with disabilities. Learn more here.

Kitty and I are both lifelong devoted aunties. I remember when my (Piggy) teenage niblings were learning sex ed, I had an arrangement with their parents. Their parents knew I would privately tell the kids they could ask me anything... and I gave the kids examples of things they could ask. This also meant spending one-on-one time with the kids doing activities where they felt safe and private enough to talk to me.

I know adults with disabilities are a little different from preteens, but I think the principle is the same: explicitly tell them you're a nonjudgmental, safe resource, and then give them safe and private opportunities to talk to you about their concerns.

Good luck! Here's some more of what we've written about disabilities:

The Social Safety Net for Disabled People Is Broken

Long-Term Disability Insurance Is a Necessity… and a Scam

Short-Term Disability Insurance Is a Waste of Money… With Two Very Specific Exceptions

Why There’s So Little (Good) Personal Finance for Disabled People

Did we just help you out? Join our Patreon!

#sex ed #sex education #disability rights

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monstersholygrail · 13 hours ago

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Woven Tales

Preview— Patreon Exclusive

Tiger Hybrid Husband x fem!reader— fluff, primal play, marking, scenting, scratching, cum eating, fingering, oral, overstimulation, implied multiple orgasms, pussy worship

Wc: 3.1k

You scroll through your phone, a frown tugging at your lips as you look into all the group clubs around your area. All of them focusing on activities you couldn’t even pretend to be interested in. Even as your hope began to drop little by little your thumb kept scrolling on and on.

You wouldn’t give up, you couldn’t.

Groans break the silence in the room as your Tiger Hybrid Husband struggles to kick the door open, his arms full of groceries he picked up for tonight’s dinner. He eyes you warily while he makes his way in, heavily aware of what you’ve been doing these past few days. No matter how hard you’ve been trying to hide it.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He grumbles, trudging into the kitchen and plopping the groceries down on the counter.

The immediate instinct to shy away doesn’t leave until you eventually give into it, angling your phone just out of his view. It only piques his interest further, ears twitching, body tensing like he’s preparing to pounce.

“Nothing…” you squeak out, a smile wobbling its way onto your lips.

He only takes one step toward you before you’re squealing like you’re actually being attacked. With a hard scoff he’s rounding the island and bounding over to you, tackling your plump frame onto the couch and curling his arms around you to take most of the impact.

Your squeals ring louder as his claws press into your sides, tickling you and sending sharp sparks shooting down your torso where his fingers dance. He struggles against your wriggling body, brushing up against him so perfectly he has to clench his jaw just to stay focused.

But the moment his purrs break through his chest you absolutely melt against him, both of you panting, and your smile bright the second you meet his eye. As much as he tries to help it, he softens too under your gaze. Everything that tells him to remain stern about this fades away till a pout forms on his lips.

“I just don’t see why you have to find some club activity to join. Is my company not enough?” He rasps, his hands smoothing out the growing ache in your belly.

A pout of your own spreads across your face. Reaching around blindly on the couch, you search for your phone, the object having been lost in the attack. The moment your fingers grip the cool metal you bring the object between you both, showing him the screen as you resume your doom scrolling. That’s exactly what it was feeling like too. Doom.

“Nothings wrong with it, don’t say that. I just… think I should talk to someone other than you for a change.”

That crease you love appears quick between his brows, his pout somehow deepening, like he’s truly having trouble grasping onto the concept. It’s kinda cute.

“Why?”

You can’t help but laugh at the childish whine to his voice but one look and you can tell he isn’t finding it funny like you are. Lightly slapping his chest as if that knock some sense into him, you look back to your phone, rolling your lip between your teeth.

“Because I want some friends; people to talk to about random silly things or— or you! Maybe I wanna talk to people about you,” you sputter out, trying to explain.

Something flashes over his face before a wicked grin takes over and he leans down, playfully nipping at your throat before soothing it with his tongue. Your heart flutters, arching your body into his.

“And what would you have to say?” He growls.

Another squeak leaves your lips at the present bulge growing in his pants. By now dinner is long forgotten and everything else is following close behind. The heat of his body pours over you in waves, forcing every little thought from your head.

This is a Patreon exclusive fic so you'll only be able to read it there! Check it out if you're interested in reading the entire fic and many more. I have a ton of other exclusive and early access fics that you can read there too!!

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bewitched-hours · 2 days ago

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Forsaken | Mafioso & (His)Child!Reader (Part 2)

See part 1 here @lopfuuinhareanon @albinoxp Hope you enjoy o(≧▽≦)o

Reader gets She/Her again~

"And you're sure?" Chance asked you with a perplexed look.

"I saw them! They hesitated!" You protested, struggling against the gambler's grip with tears running over your cheeks.

Nothing you remembered in your past could've prepared you for watching your father actually kill someone. You knew he did it without question, you knew he'd sometimes come home with blood on him and need a bath before you could shower him in affection and stories from what you did with whichever goon stayed behind to watch you.

But you've never seen him actively kill someone...

And when you were the one he got, it felt even worse... Like you've done something to deserve this.

But sometimes... Even he seemed to hesitate when you pleaded with him, telling him you still believed in him even as he killed you.

Somehow... You knew he could hear you... Or at least your fear...

You figured if you just refused to give up, he would remember and win over the Spectre's hold...

"I saw dad too! He had that look again!" You tried to stomp your feet in the air until Chance hid in a building and let you down finally.

You knew he meant well, seeing as you were a bit slower with your shorter legs. Even your bunny speed can't get you so far...

You looked out carefully, watching the goons scramble to find you with an odd look to them... Like they felt guilty...

It honestly broke your heart. Even though they've killed you several times, you still saw them as family and knew you'd forgive them in a heartbeat. It wasn't their fault the Spectre made them turn against you...

You couldn't help but let out soft squeaks. Nothing like the ones you'd show when you let any of the survivors pet you but more with a sad undertone to it. Chance could only pray to his lady luck that the goons wouldn't hear it as you watched them split to look for the gambler and you.

"Kid, I know you can't control your squeaks but is there a way to muffle them at least?" He whispered nervously, trying not to sound upset.

He knew you just wanted your life back. Everyone did.

But they to focus on the present, as did you.

"Sorry..." You muttered, your squeaks quieting down until they were barely heard. You knew Chance felt bad about it though as he proceeded to lead you to a generator and help you with the puzzle so the generator would be done quicker.

By the time you've finished the round and won with Chance as the last two standing, you felt homesick again.

This time though, the survivors tried to trust you a bit more and went to make the table, simply handing you paper and crayons again so you went off to draw like usual until dinner was ready.

You learned the routine by now. Each 'day' has about 6 to 7 rounds before you were all allowed a longer break to have dinner and sleep.

You would get 10 hours to sleep and clean before it all repeated... It exhausted you mentally- wait...

There was a sudden song outside... A whistling you recognized anyday.

You looked to the other survivors and made sure they were distracted with dinner while you quietly snuck out.

"Sorry..." You whispered whilst slipping through the door to find the source of the whistling. A pit practically formed in your stomach and tears prodded through your eyelids as a lump formed in your throat.

It couldn't be a coincidence... It had to be them...

It was the exact melody they would whistle to help you sleep after a nightmare...

Hmm, should the child join the killers, I wonder~?

Anything you'd like to request/ask? Check out my pinned post first and I'll be happy to write up whatever you want!

#forsaken roblox #forsaken #roblox forsaken #forsaken x reader #forsaken x y/n #platonic forsaken x reader #platonic forsaken x child reader #mafioso forsaken #forsaken mafioso #some angst #angst with a happy ending #some fluff #comfort

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fashionteahouse · 2 days ago

Note

Can you do one where Paul or Embry accidentally walks in on one of the wolves getting it on, but when the girl looks up they imprint? It kinda blows up right in Emily’s house considering it was happening upstairs and the wolf gets jealous of his new imprint literally being intimate with another guy in front of him.

Thanks! 🌸🌸

haha sure this is an interesting idea ! hope you enjoy :)

perfect stranger - paul lahote x reader

Tugging on your hand in his large but warm hand, Embry’s kind eyes that made your heart stop, encouraged you to come along.

A summer get together was happening at his friend Emily’s home.

“Her fiancé installed a new pool.”

That’s what had you sold.

Things were okay between you two. It started casual, a fun night out after meeting at a sports bar. He was funny and kind. Being in his company was nice.

“We can see how things go.” Was what you said one night. You found yourself wanting to be around him more and more, not even caring if you two didn’t have sex.

“Okay. You want to put a label on it?” He asked softly with hope.

You pondered about it for a moment.

“Sure. What’s the worst that could happen?” You replied. He smiled at that sentence.

You were touched that he wanted to bring you around people he seemed to care about.

He opened the front door, coming in as if he lived there. The woman directing a brawny boy to carry a cooler outside was standing with her hands on her hips, turning around to see who entered her home.

Her smile broke out as she greeted you both.

“Embry. Who’s this?”

“Y/N. Y/N, this is Emily.”

“Hey. Nice place.” You compliment.

“Thanks! You’ll love the new pool way more.”

This made you smile.

“Where’s your swim suit?” Emily asks.

“Oh. In my bag in the trunk.” You answered, you couldn’t believe you left it.

“Alright, I’ll grab it.” Embry says as he walks off.

“And Y/N, feel free to change in the bathroom- I even have a guest room that you can go in if someone’s using the bathroom.”

“Cool. Thanks so much.” You replied, and just then Emily leaves off, closing the backdoor behind her. Embry comes in with your bag and guides you to the bathroom.

The bathroom fan was on, ventilating the room. Embry shut the door behind him as you immediately was staring at yourself in the mirror, peeling off your shirt to reveal your bare chest.

His hands place on your bare shoulders and you look in the reflection to see his mischievous smile. It made you break out a smile.

Hands shoved in his sport shorts, Paul moved his long legs towards the small cozy home.

Earlier during patrol, Sam insisted that Paul should show his face, claiming that Emily missed him. He didn’t understand it. He liked to stay out of the way. What Emily missed about him, he just didn’t know.

He heard the commotion around the back of the home. Hearing the splashes and screams of glee as he moved closer.

Entering the home, taking a break from the beating sun, he helped himself in the fridge, cracking open a can of cold soda.

He stood at the sink, not wanting to leave to go outside yet. Crushing his can, he made his way upstairs to the bathroom.

As he stood at the toilet, the sound of urination echoed the bathroom and he flushed.

As he came out of the hallway, he heard noises. A mixture of a soft sigh and a low chuckle. Curiously, he inched closer to the sound. The crack of the door allowed him to see the activity.

Embry has you lifted, your arms were around his neck as Paul saw perfect view of your face. He was never a peeping Tom, he just couldn’t bring himself to walk away, walk away from the sight of you.

Pleasure was on your face as your eyes were cracked shut with your mouth slightly opened. He knew very well that he could’ve done a better job at making you feel pleasure. You wouldn’t have been this quiet. Your quiet moans that he was able to pick up with his sensitive ears, he felt that they were too pretty to be quiet. He hadn’t seen you around before. To have some type of mystery in his life, he didn’t mind. He didn’t know what your favorite color was, he didn’t know what made you cry and what made you laugh. In his mind, you were the perfect stranger. He was about to back away, that’s when your eyes opened. They were hooded, but he felt that they were beautiful as they looked into his.

His world stopped. He couldn’t move. You were trapped in his eyes as you stared at the handsome face that watched you be in a bear hug from Embry.

Paul’s wolf growled lowly and dangerously. It trickled out of his mouth. You felt like you were cheating on someone and Embry was confused by your paused response.

“Y/N…Whats wrong?”

You only push him away, stumbling away from him. Paul backed away some from the doorway, hearing Embry asking you again what’s wrong.

Paul rested his back against the hallway wall as his fists were clenched. His wolf howled with claim of you. Another man, another wolf, had their hands on you. That’s supposed to be him. He was supposed to make you feel tingles from the top of your head to the balls of your feet.

Embry followed you out of the room after you speedily adjusted your swim suit. Embry stopped in his tracks when he saw Paul in the hallway. So did you.

Paul glared at Embry as if he personally offended him.

“What the fuck, Paul? You were watching?” Embry raised his arms a bit, furrowing his eyebrows.

That was his name.

Paul.

You mentally tucked it in your brain to remember it.

“I was not watching. Sam’s gonna be pissed that you were fucking in his house.” Paul threw out. Fucking someone who is his imprint.

“What’s it to you?”

“Everything.” Paul says as he gets more and more agitated.

Embry scoffed and took your hand. You watch Paul’s eyes look down at the joined hands and you take it out of his, putting it a bit behind your back. Paul smirked at Embry’s hurt expression.

Embry was always observant, he saw the way Paul looked at you. How he stripped you with only his eyes.

“She’s my girlfriend. Mind your business.” Embry warned.

Twenty four hours earlier, you would’ve been beaming and jumping at the sound of Embry claiming you, but it felt wrong. All wrong.

Paul didn’t like the sound of the word “my” coming out of Embry’s mouth. It sounded wrong. All wrong.

That’s when, Paul shoved Embry. Hard.

“Yeah. Fucking your girlfriend in someone else’s house, real fucking romantic. What happened to a real date?” Paul bitterly spoke out with an expression that was scowled.

Embry shoved him back, Paul’s back hit the wall. Paul huffed as they both lunged for each other.

You gasp with widened eyes as they both tackled each other. Jumping over them, you ran down the stairs. Searching for anybody in the backyard, you scream out.

“Embry is upstairs fighting with…Paul.” You say and you pause after saying Paul’s name. It sounded graceful from your lips. You barely registered people getting up and running past you to meet where they were.

You heard yelling and commotion from the home. Emily gives you a concerned look. You look down, feeling to be cause of such brawl but, you couldn’t find a reason to blame yourself.

Embry stormed out soon enough, grabbing your hand. His eyes were hardened.

“We’re leaving.”

“We just got here.” You say as you felt a bit sad, you wanted to stay. You felt like you needed to stay.

“Don’t grab her like that. She’s my imprint.” You heard a deep voice bell out.

You didn’t know what an imprint was. But, you did know, it had something to do with Paul.

A burst of butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you grew hot in the face. Paul had his arms crossed, looking deeply disapproving of the joined hands. You slipped your hand back out of Embry’s hand.

“She’s not! It’s a mistake!” Embry exclaimed with great frustration.

“Our spirit warriors make no mistake.” Paul says in a taunting manner. Embry clench his jaw as you move away from Embry, Paul stepping closer.

“Stay. Away. From. Her.” Embry threatened.

“How about you stay away from her.” Paul threatened back, taking menacing steps towards him. The spike of excitement within you was shameful, but you forgot to soak in the shame.

A man, older than them all, stopped the man named Paul. He had his hand on his chest and that’s when Paul paused his steps, but didn’t pause his glare. The mature man thrusted his thumb behind himself, gesturing towards the home.

“Embry, how about you take a breather.” He suggested.

“Sam-”

“Take a breather. Then, come back.” but the way that the man named Sam had said it, did not leave it open for no discussion.

“Y/N, how about we take a dip in the pool?” Emily came over to encourage, trying to lighten the mood up. The other boys were making their way back to the pool. One boy flipped into the pool and the other one resumed the upbeat music.

“Sure.” You answer quietly as you let her link your arm with yours.

You look behind yourself as you walked towards the pool that contained pool toys and activities. Embry glared at Paul before entering back into the home.

Paul looked at you as if it was his duty to make sure nothing happened to you. You felt like you were floating. It felt like time had stopped and you didn’t want to ever go back to before, when things were normal. You wanted this to be your new normal. You wanted to uncover the deep mystery with this man named Paul. You wanted to let him know that he was worth it. That he deserved you. That he was the perfect stranger.

#twilight saga #paul lahote x y/n #paul lahote x you #paul lahote imagine #y/n #fanfic #twilight #twilight wolfpack #twilight wolves #x reader #paul lahote #paul lahote fanfic #paul lahote x reader

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lugosis · 3 days ago

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semi urgent request

hi guys so my life is going comically bad right now and i currently have an issue with back taxes and no income bc my wages are supposed to go to them (this is due to my boss lying to me). basically i need help getting groceries and necessities during this time while i figure out how to get my wages again. i’m also actively looking for a new job but it’s very rough out there. im currently in the negatives too from my electric bill coming out so it’s really stressful. i’m looking to get $250 which hopefully should cover this time while im trying to get my wages figured out. if anybody can help or reblog that would be great! thank you!!

my ppal is @ kierenbell & my vnmo is @ kierenb42

0/250 !!!

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rosenclaws · 2 days ago

Note

Hi rose!!! IM SO GLAD YOU'RE BACK AHHHH

omg i was reading kitty and marie earlier AND I LOVE IT SM U ATE and now i have smth in my mind im not sure you'll like it but its like Marie has a family day activity at school and Marie insists that Logan should go with her Mommy 🫣

Family Fun Day || Worst Logan x Reader

warnings: fem!reader, fluff

a/n: this is such a good fucking idea non holy. My old elementary school used to have these events like a star night or a fun festival so Im gonna use one of these.

Kitty and Marie Series

"Family fun day? Face paint, bake sale, and games." You read off of the crumpled flyer Marie had shoved into her backpack.

"Do you want to go honey?" You ask. She looks up from her homework and nods.

"Yes please, Dani said she's gonna go with her mommy and daddy." Dani was her best friend. You often found them playing together after school when you went to pick her up.

"Can Kitty come?" She asks and you hesitate.

"We can ask but I don't know if he'll want to honey." You tell her gently.

Logan often couldn't say no to Marie but this was going to be a family day and well, you don't want to scare him by dragging him to a school with a bunch of screaming kids.

"But...but..." Her little eyes well up with tears and you can't help but laugh. Oh she's perfected her puppy eyes.

"Here, how about we'll ask him the next time we see him okay?" Marie nods and goes back to her homework. While she's occupied you whip out your phone and text Logan. Not wanting to spring something on him so he thinks he has to say yes. Marie is very convincing.

Are you free on Friday?

Yeah. Why?

Marie has this family fun day and she wants to invite you. It's totally okay if you don't want to go though because it's a lot and I don't want to put any pressure on you to go.

You bite your lip as you see the three little bubbles pop up and then disappear. Did you type too much? You didn't know if Logan would freak out seeing the family part of the family fun day. You're still early into your relationship. Hell you still get shy when someone calls you a couple. Plus Logan wasn't a very expressive texter so it was hard to read his mind when all he sends are short messages with the occasional emoji.

I'll be there.

👍

You take a deep breath as you tuck your phone back in your pocket. This is just supposed to be fun, nothing to read into right?

Marie sees Logan the next day and asks him if he wants to go. She's practically jumping up and down as he picks her up and hangs her upside down for a moment making her squeal with laughter. He says yes and Marie couldn't be happier.

Friday rolls around and you and Logan walk to her school. He can already hear the screams of the children and he shudders.

"You don't have to go Logan, it's okay really." You tell him, noticing his super senses starting to act up.

"No I promised Marie, I can deal with a few...okay a lot of rowdy kids for a few hours." He can suck it up for a little bit. Marie's waiting by the front with a few of her friends and spots them as soon as they walk up.

"Kitty!!!" She screams as she runs up to him. Logan picks her up with ease as she jumps into his arms.

"Hi Mommy! Can I get my face painted please please pleaseeeee." You laugh as she starts to squirm in his arms. Leaning over you boop her nose and tell her of course.

"Dani!! Mommy said yes!" She calls over her shoulder. Logan sets her down and he grabs both of your hands and "drags" you towards the face painting table.

"What do you want kid?" Logan asks as he bends down to look at the options.

"Mmm Butterfly or Unicorn." Marie thinks hard as she looks between the two.

"This is the hardest decision a little girl has to make." He teases.

"I think...Unicorn." She nods her head firmly and hops in the chair.

"Kitty look they have a tiger." She points out on the poster.

"Stay still honey." You tell her as she keeps moving her head.

"You should get the tiger face paint right mommy?" You smirk as you look at Logan who is shaking his head.

"No way. I am not painting a damn tiger on my face." He huffs.

"Not even for us?" You pout your lips slightly and so does Marie.

"You two are evil. Evil." He points at you and you just smile sweetly. 20 minutes later and Logan now has half a tiger painted on his face.

"You look purr-fect." You joke and he just glares at you playfully.

"Oh shut up."

Marie tugs on his hand and points towards some of the games. Her eyes go wide when she sees a massive cow plush sitting on one of the shelves.

"I need it." She whispers.

There's a crowd of kids around the booth. It was one of those knocking down the bottle games and so far everyone else has failed. Even some of the parents can't seem to get it. You hand Marie a few tickets and she goes up to the booth. He hands her a ball and she gives it her best shot. Knocking down one bottle but not the other ones.

"That was a good shot honey." You tell her trying to cheer her up. But you can see the sad look on her face. There's not tantrum or fit but just disappointment.

Logan narrows his eyes at the game. He watches a few more people take some shots and still nothing. He notices one of the bottles at the bottom get hit square in the middle but it doesn't budge. He knows most carnival games are rigged but at an elementary school? Really?

"Give me a few tickets, I'll get that stupid cow." He whispers in your ear.

"Its okay Logan we can just buy her one from the store." You tell him but he insists.

He hands the tickets to the guy at the booth and takes the ball. Logan throws the ball hard. It's not even at his full strength and it knocks the bottles clean off the stand. And rips through the tent and gets stuck in the fence behind the tent.

"Oops." Logan shrugs as everyone stares in awe. Logan plucks the cow from the high shelf and hands it to Marie. She squeals in happiness as a few kids come up to celebrate with her. Petting the fluffy hair and looking at Logan with big eyes.

"Is using mutant strength cheating?" You tease as he grabs your hand.

"Nah, That wasn't even my full strength." He smirks as Marie continues to show off her new plushie.

"Maybe I can show you how strong I really am sometime." He whispers in your ear, winking when he sees your jaw drop. Oh that jerk. You glare at him but he just smiles wider.

The whole day she wouldn't let go of it. Bragging to everyone who would hear that Kitty won it for her. She eventually hands the cow off to you as she goes to play on the playground. You and Logan sit on a bench eating some popcorn. The cow tucked under his arm.

"Thank you for coming Logan, Marie is having so much fun and so am I."

"I mean I really only came for the free food." He jokes and you roll your eyes. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer.

"Thank you for inviting me. I...It's nice being apart of your life like this." He says, his voice serious as he presses a kiss to your head.

"It was all Marie's idea. I was worried it would be too much."

"Too much how?"

"Its silly but sometimes I get nervous that we're moving too fast. The word family can be a lot." You explain. He's quiet for a moment which worries you.

"I never thought I'd be this kind of guy. The one who goes to their kids school events and gets their face painted because I can't say no to a child." He's teasing but there's a hint of vulnerability.

"How's it been so far?" You ask softly, the fact he said "their kid" doesn't escape you.

"It's better than I could have imagined." You lean your head against his shoulder as you watch Marie play.

As the fair winds down Logan gets up and heads over to the playground.

"Hey kid it's time to go home." Logan hands Marie her cow as she sighs, not wanting to leave yet.

But the promise of ice cream has her ready to go. Logan buys her a small ice cream cone on the way back. She swings on his arm as he orders and sticks by him while they wait. Marie has seemed to fall in love with him just as quickly as you have. You never imagined this was going to be your life.

Since her father left you all alone with her, it's been hard. Doing your best to make her happy, to be there for her while providing for her too. You were so happy with just the two of you and then Logan swooped in and filled the small hole that was still living in your heart.

"Thanks for inviting me kid, I had fun." Logan tells Marie as he drops you off at your apartment.

"You had to come, you're part of the family." She says. She doesn't realize how much it means to Logan to hear that.

"Yeah?" His voice is barely a whisper as Marie hugs his leg and hurries inside. You see his eyes turn misty and smile.

"She's right, you are part of your family now Logan. We're never gonna let you go now." You tease, trying to lighten the mood. He looks up at you with a serious face and your smile fades.

"I think I'm in love with you guys." He admits.

"No actually, I know I am."

The two of you were easy to fall in love with. He looks at you and suddenly his old ass wants everything. The school events and playdates, the tantrums and sick days. All of it. The good and the bad.

"Logan..." Your heart squeezes in your chest as you reach out and cup his face.

"We love you too. So much." You tell him and he kisses you gently.

You think you fell in love with him a long time ago, maybe even the first day you met him. Or at least you knew you would. He gently presses you against the door as he deepens the kiss.

"Stay for dinner?" Or stay forever. But you'll take dinner for now.

"Of course." His hands slip to your waist as you open the door.

Marie lights up seeing Logan still here. Already rambling on about making dinner. He helps her wash her hands as the three of you start to cook. He looks around to see the two of you cutting some vegetables.

There's a small tug at his heart as he realizes he's right where he wants to be. Wishing he never has to let go.

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #worst!logan x reader #kitty and marie

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crystallilytarot02 · 14 hours ago

Text

How to get more in touch with your spiritual gifts?

Pile 1

You can work succesfully with your spirit guides, try to be in touch with them, they can help you a lot. If you have an addiction or a bad habit, and you try to stop it, when you are alone, listen to what that inner voice says. It's your spirit guides, they will be there for you in the hard days. If you enjoy life, your intuition will get better. Be in the nature, laugh a lot, be with people you love. When you do this, your intuition will be on point without even trying. You can use Tarot or oracle cards too. Start with small questions. Also try to guess something small, like what color will be your friend's shirt when you next meet. This way you can be better in a fun way. You can have an incredible connection with your loved ones spiritually, you can meet them in your dreams, and you can send energy, healing. But don't send bad things, not even to bad people. If you have negative feelings, speak with someone or write it down, don't hold it in yourself.

Pile 2

You are probably a little more logical, but you can see things from a different perspective. Try to look at spiritual things with an open mind. You have a friend who is more spiritual, they can help you see things in a unique way. Even if you feel like you don't have spiritual talent, you will be surprised with the amount of symbols, synchronycities you will experience if you are more open. And those aren't only coincedences. You should work on the reason why you have this block in yourself against spirituality. You probably have some unresolved bad experience in your subconcious mind. But you have a good intuition actually, if you let yourself be more emotional, you sense people's vibe, you can predict things. Moving, walking, dancing is really good for you, it activates good energy in you. But if you want to feel an important thing or someone's real motive, you need to be alone, meditate, relax. Don't think about the problem, just relax, clear your mind, and you will get the answer.

Pile 3

You probably have intense dreams, and even if it feels chaotic, it always has a meaning. You can practice lucid dreams too, you will meet your future spouse in your dreams before meeting them in real life. You can feel while traveling that you lived in that city/country, you can feel an attraction to different cultures. If it didn't happened yet, you probably will have this experience one day. It will be definitely a meaningful event in your life, you can even move to another place after. You can be good in learning languages too, or one particular language, because of this past life. When you will heal from bad experiences, that's when your intuition will get better. You will see why something didn't worked out, even be grateful looking back. Until than, don't give up, you have a vision, and it's not just a daydream, it's your destiny. You can use vision boards, and visualisation. Try to keep balance in your life, don't overindulge in anything, that isn't good for your energy.

#tarot community #tarot #tarotblr #pick a card #pick a pile #tarot reading #free tarot

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gracieheartspedro · 3 days ago

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Lotus Eater | chapter 5 - 4.2k words

my main masterlist - eddie masterlist - series masterlist

previous chapter - next chapter

summary: you needed way more money than initially thought to fix your car. so, you work through thanksgiving break. but not without eddie trying to ruin your groove and make you actually have fun.

warnings: slow burn, 18+ mdni, bullying, discussions about drugs, eating food?, eddie is fully flirting, reader isn't picking it up at all (or is she HA), mention of reader’s terrible parents, drinking alcohol, mentions of hellfire being weird with reader, gareth is kinda pushy but not without eddie keeping a close eye on him, jokes about religion and summoning satan, reader gets pretty drunk, forced proximity.

a/n: thank you to all the love y'all have given this fic!! i love writing it!! this one was so cutesy to write!

After the Kacey incident, Eddie was practically attached to your hip. You were not aware at first, simply just continuing conversations in the hallways when you arrived at school. Walking to class together because the rooms were across from one another. He was always just there.

But rumors were easy to pass along in the halls, and your former best friend was adamant about convincing the entire school that you two were a thing. It bothered you, but not in a way that you could pinpoint.

You had never been linked to a guy at school before. You never had a boyfriend or a guy that you would hook up with. You spent most of high school avoiding the guys you had crushes on and now you were forever associated with the one guy you actively dodged most of high school. And for some perplexing reason, it did not eat away at you. Being around Eddie was convenient and in some fucked up way, comforting.

When Eddie brought the rumors up to you one day after school, you told him you did not like the thought that people could not let the opposite sexes be strictly friends. He giggled, telling you it was pretty intolerant and dense of people, but you should not fret too much.

“You are more worried about that and not the fact that people think you’re dating me, the Freak?”

Your lip quirked as you shook your head, “Oh trust me, I’m worried about that, too. I just didn’t want to make you upset. I committed social suicide the moment I arrived at school with you two months ago.”

His nose scrunched, his cheeks rising as he smiled, “You wound me, sunshine.”

The diner was buzzing with people. It was the first day of Thanksgiving break, which meant former locals coming in to order their favorite comfort food and the normal customers coming in to bother you about your Thanksgiving plans. You do not have any currently. If you are lucky, you will be the only one in the house and you could make yourself some instant mashed potatoes.

In the midst of your daydreams of creamy potatoes, you watch a familiar van pull up into the busy parking lot.

You roll your eyes immediately, knowing Eddie would only distract you from helping your two four tops. You position yourself near the kitchen, watching him, Jeff, and Gareth pour into the establishment. They are laughing loudly, disturbing the peace the moment they enter. You cannot imagine something is that funny.

Eddie always has a way of finding you. His eyes immediately meet yours as he slips into a booth right next to your other tables. He has layered his denim vest over his hodge-podge leather jacket. You had added two new safety pins on the sleeve of that thing this past week alone. He would not let it go.

You groan dramatically as you pull out your notepad and pen.

He has this shit-eating grin plastered on his face, his eyes playfully scanning your waitress uniform. It should make you feel insecure, like when every other man checks you out in your uniform, but you know Eddie is concocting some stupid jab at you.

He puts a toothpick between his teeth, rolling it back and forth.

You did not want to admit to yourself the number of times you found yourself admiring the guy over the last couple of weeks. Your intuition was simply to push those feelings down and continue with your annoyed temperament with him. It was much easier than letting those thoughts creep in.

“What can I get you guys today?” You ask, your body directed at Gareth and Jeff as they fuck with the menus.

“Coke,” Jeff says, matter-of-factly.

“Coke, please,” Gareth orders, emphasizing his pleasantries.

You can always feel when Eddie’s looking at you. His big brown eyes practically pierce through your skin, “What are the specials, sweetheart?”

You lull your head back, snapping it back to finally look at him. You did not want to entertain his antics, but you had an audience with Jeff and Gareth, “Lima beans.”

Eddie’s nose scrunches, still shifting that toothpick around between his lips. “Really?”

You shake your head, placing your hands on your hips. That makes Eddie’s eyes roam down again. You know he wants to make a joke about your outfit so bad.

“No, Eddie.”

Jeff giggles at your condescending tone, all the while Gareth is still fiddling with the menu and not really paying attention. You break into a small smirk, eyeing Eddie with raised brows.

He looks at his friends, then you, then his friends, then you again. He looks puzzled, playing up his completely oblivious act.

“Well then?” His voice rises as he pulls the toothpick out of his mouth. You watch his hand rest on the table next to the menu, his pointer and thumb rotating it. You are so fixated on his hand that you have completely forgotten the topic of conversation. When he repeats your name, you finally look back up at him. He has this knowing expression on his face like he caught you in the act. “The specials?”

In the most monotone voice, you recite the same thing you have said to all the tables you have had all day, “$5 open-faced turkey platter. With fries and gravy.”

He nods immediately, putting the toothpick back in his mouth. “I’ll take that, sunshine.”

“Gravy over the fries, okay?” You jot down on your pad, scribbling something that is not even legible to you.

“Smother them suckers,” Eddie jokes, his voice deepening.

“And what do you want to drink?”

He thinks for a beat, “Any drink specials?”

“Cool, so you’re actually getting a water.”

Your other tables leave you a combined $10 tip. No too bad, but for having to deal with their badly behaved children for an hour and a half, you were expecting a little bit more.

You deliver Eddie’s food as soon as it is in the window. The evening has slowed down some and you have already done most of your sidework, so you nudge Eddie with your knee as soon as you place Gareth’s plate down in front of him. “Scoot. Need to get off my feet for a minute.”

He happily obliges, moving over in the booth to give you a place to sit. You sigh, leaning your head against the padded back.

“What are you doing after you get off?” He asks, grabbing a smothered fry and devouring it in one bite. You look outside at the sun setting and shrug. You never had plans and Eddie knew this.

“My mom is supposed to be picking me up,” You explain, tilting your head so you are looking at him. He eats every meal like it’s his last and this is no exception. You never found the diner’s food that groundbreaking, everything mainly being carb overload, but Eddie eats it like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. When he brings his fingers up to lick the excess gravy, you feel your mouth go dry.

“And after that?” He interrupts your thought process, his eyelashes fluttering towards you.

You huff, “Bed.”

He and the guys both wince and groan at your response. You look between them, trying to act like they are the crazy ones. What was wrong with going to bed after a long shift?

“It’s a Friday night, sunshine. Why don’t you come to the kickback with us?” Eddie proposes, dropping his water cup a bit too hard on the table.

“Kickback?”

You had never been invited to do something like that and you were not keen on exploring what the Hellfire Club’s kickback would look like. You imagine it involved a lot of marijuana and alcohol, two things you were not particularly fond of. And while over the last month, you have been able to hold more conversations with the guys, you were not excited at the prospect of being around them while they were intoxicated.

Eddie nods matter-of-factly, “Yeah, Gareth’s parents are out of town. We are going to his house to smoke and hang out by the fire.”

Gareth speaks up with his mouth full of burger, “We are burning palettes.”

Like that was going to change your mind for some reason.

You grumble, trying to act very interested, “Sounds like fun for a bunch of losers who aren’t working.”

As you say it, an older couple comes in and sits in your recently cleaned booth nearby. Duty always calls at inconvenient times. You stand up while the boys snicker at your retort. Eddie rolls his eyes, grabbing your arm before you can walk away.

“Come on. Live a little. You work too hard,” He pleads, his bottom lip jutted out. You have to work tomorrow at noon, so it would not hurt to go. It was just not in your nature to entertain a party of sorts with the rest of the crew. Any after-school activities were always a no-go. Unless it was Eddie taking you home, of course.

You shake your head, trying to get him to see your side. “I get off at 10. I will be tired.”

“I’ll make sure you get home by 1. How’s that?”

He’s not giving up, but you’re not giving in. You are too set on being able to curl up in bed with your favorite book and get some early shut-eye.

“I’ll pass,” You turn away, heading to your next table, “You guys enjoy.”

Of course, your mom does not show up when you get off.

You stand at the pay phone, tapping your foot anxiously. Your legs cannot stop moving, having no protection from the elements. When the home phone continues to ring without a pickup, you slam it back on the receiver.

Unreal. But it's not shocking.

You almost decide to start walking home in the crisp autumn air, but instead, you spot a recognizable hunk of metal parked at the mini-mart across the street. Better than walking miles and miles in the darkness.

You curse your mother the whole time, stomping into the store with your oversized windbreaker swishing around. You see him and Jeff at the beer cooler, grabbing a couple six six-packs. Once Jeff catches your eye, Eddie turns around with a curious look painted across his face. It relaxes the moment he sees you. A hint of concern and understanding of the situation spreads across his face when he notices your disheveled appearance.

“Didn’t show?” He asks simply, tucking the 6 pack under his arm. You scrunch your nose, placing your hand on your hips. After two months, Eddie is pretty well versed in how much your parents let you down. Neither of you needs to elaborate in these situations. Eddie just nods, disguising his annoyance towards your own mother. You look at Jeff and he is standing there observing you two like you are telepathically speaking to each other.

He turns to the guy, handing him a twenty-dollar bill and the other 6 pack. “Check out and we will catch you outside.”

You watch the guy struggle to grab all the things from Eddie, somehow managing everything in his arms. You are not sure why Eddie is practically escorting you outside, his arm hovering over your shoulders to usher you to his van.

“You want me to take you home or are you down to hang out with us for a bit?”

Your head cranes up at him. You felt bad because you were pretty sure Gareth’s house was literally a hop and a skip from where you were, as opposed to the 10-minute drive to your house. Not wanting to inconvenience Eddie any more than you already were, you give in. Finally.

“I can hang out.”

The smile that takes over his face is genuine and a bit wicked. “Atta girl. I knew you’d wanna hang with the cool kids outside of school eventually.”

You cannot lie, his praise makes butterflies scatter in the pit of your stomach. You know it’s just a passive statement, so your eyes roll to the back of your skull, “All it took was me being stranded somewhere with only one person to come save me.”

He places his hand on your shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze, “I’ll always come save you, sunshine.”

Eddie is never pushy, but his friends surely are. Especially Gareth.

When you arrive at his house, you take note of the middle-class life the kid leads. Two car garage, a large living room, and an even bigger backyard. Sprawling with trees that have shedded most of their leaves. When Gareth spots you, his eyes light up in excitement.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” He says, shoving a beer into your hand. You were not planning on drinking, but you grabbed the bottle anyway. You can feel Eddie’s eyes lock on to you two even though Grant is ranting about whatever new grievance he had today.

Gareth grabs the neck of the bottle in your hand and pops the top for you as you mumble through an explanation. “Mom didn’t show. Eddie to the rescue, per usual.”

He smiles as he clicks off his own bottle top, “Well, I’m glad you’re here nonetheless.”

Out of all the guys, Gareth’s interest in you was the most obvious. At least, that’s what you thought. You could always be reading the signs wrong. He was always slinging compliments at you, checking you out as you sat down at the lunch table, asking you questions about yourself when everyone else seemed too afraid to. You never fully entertained him, but sometimes you would shoot him a brighter smile than usual or compliment a button on his jean jacket.

“Thanks for having me,” You reply, cheering your beer to him.

That’s when you note his eyes raking down your body. He had not looked at you like this earlier, so it must be the multiple beers he had before you showed up. You were surprised by the obvious display and due to it being painfully awkward, you took a swig of the beer. You instantly wince at the flavor, wanting to gag it back up.

“You’re drinking?” Eddie taps your arm, grabbing your attention away from the curly-headed weirdo in front of you. You take another sip, hoping it would be better the second time. Nope.

“I guess so,” You move towards him, trying to get out of the way of the other boys carrying large palettes towards the fire. “I’ll need at least one watching these idiots set these things on fire.”

You have more than one. Because after one, Gareth asks if you need another. And due to the effects of the first drink making you feel lighter, you say yes. Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but he does not reprimand you. He’s never one to tell you what to do.

You and Eddie have found some plastic chairs near the fire, laughing amongst each other as the guys jokingly act like they are starting a summoning circle around the flames. Between them loudly chanting fake Latin and blundering some random Catholic prayer, you and Eddie are practically in tears as you drink your beers.

You never expected you would ever be here, but in your tipsy little brain, you are so glad you took the chance and came. Your mom’s failure turned out for the better. No thanks to her, plenty of thanks to Eddie.

And talking to Eddie was easier. Honestly easier than Kacey before the drugs. He guided the conversation so seamlessly, never prying when it was serious, and only ever taking a joke too far when he was in a group setting to get some extra laughs.

Everyone eventually calms down, sitting around the fire and sharing random stories. You already feel quite fragile, so once Grant starts telling ghost stories, you know it’s time to wrap up your time with everyone.

You look down at Eddie’s hand, perfectly propped up on the arm of his chair. You tilt his watch towards you to check the time.

1:04 am.

“I should get home,” You say, tilting the remainder of your beer into your mouth. You have not even tried standing up yet, but the moment you do, it’s like you are walking on a tightrope. Eddie’s quick to catch on to it, too, standing up and grabbing your arm to balance you. His rings feel colder than usual.

He giggles as you try to hold your arms out and find some sort of stabilization, “You’re pretty drunk.”

His hand is still on your forearm. You look up at him, trying to gauge if he is sober enough to drive. The bloodshot eyes and relaxed shoulders tell you that he’s not.

“Yeah, so are you.”

His eyes soften towards you. There’s a shift in the air and somehow, the other guys catch onto it. Gareth is the first to slice through the silence.

“Y’all can crash here,” He advises, tilting his beer towards his house. The idea that you would stay in the same house as 5 other guys was insane. You never had many sleepovers in the first place, let alone as the only girl.

You are quick to shut it down, “No, that’s fine.”

“I got some clothes you can wear,” Gareth ignores your rejection, standing up from his chair and stumbling a bit towards you. You start to feel this unexpected panic like you are going to be stuck here with just Gareth.

“No, I’m fine.”

Eddie’s hand wrapping around yours takes you off guard. Somehow, in some strange way, you feel your heart rate start to slow back down. His big brown eyes are always fairly reassuring, “Gareth has a guest room, sunshine. Lemme get you set up in there. Come on.”

“Eddie-“

“I will take you home in the morning. Promise,” He says earnestly, his thumb brushing across your knuckle. You squeeze his fingers, reluctantly agreeing. As long as he’s staying with you, you feel a bit more secure in this drunken decision.

“I am good on the couch, Eddie.”

Eddie reenters the last room on the left. He had left you to get changed in some clothes Gareth had lent you.

The room is right across from Gareth’s but it’s a bit smaller. You had peeked in his space when he was digging through his drawers trying to find some clothes you could wear. The bed in your room is a queen and takes up most of the square footage. But it’s very comfy with a mountain of pillows on top. As desirable as the spot was, you felt bad for the other guys who would be sleeping on the area rug in the living room or on Gareth’s dirty laundry that occupied his floor.

Eddie shakes his head, smiling at the baggy sweatpants you are now sporting and the Hawkins P.E. t-shirt,, “No you’re not. Lay down. I’ll get you more blankets.”

You watch him pull open the closet near the door. You can tell he’s trying to accommodate you, but you are already a bit overstimulated.

“Eddie-“

He throws a blanket your way, halting you from continuing whatever shit you were about to talk to him, “Stop saying my name. Let me help you.”

“I don’t want help,” You demand, tossing the blanket onto the bed. You slightly change the weight onto your other foot, but you feel your knee buckle a bit. The alcohol makes your body practically feel like jello.

He giggles at the way you practically tilt horizontally on the flat hardwood, “You never do but I still want to.”

Your eyes burn into his for a second. He tilts his head, revealing his Adam’s apple bobbing. You lose the topic of the conversation immediately. “Want to what?”

Your drunken mind makes those thoughts creep in even more. Sitting around the fire earlier, you realized you really enjoyed the sight of Eddie’s squinty laugh. He only does it on rare occasions, but when he does, you cannot help the wide grin that creeps across your face. Eyes completely closed, head thrown back, and his carrying cackle. You also took notice of the way his lips curl inward when he is listening intently to someone. Occasionally his tongue gets caught between his teeth when he’s really focused on something, like messing with the fire poke.

“Help you, sunshine.”

“You’re always helping me,” You explain as you pull the blankets off the bed back. The sheets looked silky, much more improved than the old stained sheets on your springy bed. “You take me to school. You let me sit with you and occasionally steal an orange from you. You take me home from school. You save me from being stranded at work. You do too much helping.”

He just smiles, helping you settle into the bed. He pulls another blanket on top of you, jokingly laying it over your face. You pull it away instantly, shooting him a faux annoyed face.

“You comfy?” He asks, looking down at you like you are a little kid he is tucking into bed.

Your displeased expression fades, settling into an at-ease one, “Yeahhhh..”

He giggles at that, slowly creeping backward towards the door. For some reason, that familiar nervousness starts to bubble in the pit of your stomach. A feeling only he made go away by being close to you earlier around the fire.

“Okay,” He whispers, tilting his head towards you, “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

You sit up straight in the bed, pulling the covers over your chest as you do, “Wait!”

It was a stupid thought, but it etched its way into your brain. You could not stop it.

His eyebrows shoot up, “Yeah?”

“Where are you sleeping?”

“Why?” He presses with an even more confused air to his voice.

You feel like an idiot almost immediately. You wanted him near you. You do not know why. Maybe it was being an unfamiliar space and he’s the only person you really knew.

But that would be admitting that you like having him around. You were not too sure you wanted him to know that.

“Because I want to know,” You try to sound obvious, but your voice cracks a bit. You clear it before continuing, “In case I need to find you.”

The sly smirk that creeps across his face makes you want to crawl under the blankets and never come out. “Why would you need to find me?”

“If I have a nightmare,” Another lie and he knows it. You know it, for fucks sake. “I don’t know Eddie, just cause!”

The latter half of the ‘explanation‘ gets him. He steps towards the door frame, leaning against it with this arrogance only Eddie could pull off, “Probably on the couch.”

“Why don’t you sleep in here?”

He is surely not expecting you to say it. You do not even know where it came from. It was the alcohol. The smell of clean sheets. The fluffiness of the feathered pillows.

He points a finger gun at you, his shift in demeanor feigning awkwardness. “Because you are sleeping in here.”

All you could do was double down. Your brain truly gave you no other choice.

“It’s a queen size bed, Eddie.”

His eyebrows raise under his frizzy bangs. He leans forward towards you, then back, shooting a glance down the hallway. It’s almost like he’s checking to see if the coast is clear. You can hear the other boys stumbling in, being loud and rambunctious as they set up the living room to sleep.

You can see the wheels turning in his head, “Why do you want me to sleep with you?”

“Not sleep with me. Sleep next to me,” You had to correct, wanting to make sure that this was all it was. His presence is close to you. Not… inside you.

You had never really craved a guy’s attention like you craved Eddie’s. While it was not something you really wanted to explore, you knew that it was still something. You had never been intimate with another person, only kissing a boy named Greg in 7th grade, simply for a dare. You were inexperienced in wanting someone.

Did you want Eddie?

You could not. You will not.

He pulls you out of your conflicted expression, giggling as he sulks towards you. He kicks the door with his foot slightly, hinging it shut, “I am a snuggler, sweetheart. You don’t want to sleep next to me.”

Eddie holding you sounds like a dream. Like a dream that you are not sure you want to have.

You imagine it in your brain before you speak up, a small smirk morphing across your lips. His tattooed arms sliding across your waist, holding you taut with his warm chest. It fills your entire being with a sense of calm. When your mind turns into imagining him on the couch, too far away for comfort, it feels like a jab to your heart.

“I’m drunk enough to let it slide.”

dividers from @/saradika-graphics

taglist: @moon-esque @walleloveseve @kellsck @awkward00noodle @person-005 @emxxblog @mediocredreams @justalotoffanfiction @kelsiegrin @whenimhomealoneijustdance @cherryheairt @thejordiverse @3rd-conchord @micheledawn1975

@littlemissholy @jeangeniex @heart-eye-love @thelastemzy @katsfandomcorner @itmightbehayley @cowboylikemunson @amanitacowboy

#eddie munson hello i love you #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #stranger things #fic: lotus eater

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iatrophilosophos · 3 days ago

Text

Hmm well my thoughts are as follows

I am an anarchist and thus not invested in how we build systems of knowlege that effectively interface with the legal system because i do not believe we should have a legal system, generally speaking, so none of my responses here are actually going to answer that for you.

The dichotomy of "science vs vibes" is both incredibly funny and incredibly annoying to me, and a complete failure of imagination or grace on behalf of all who propose it.

This is of course what thr academy dose and why I hate it. It's the cornerstone of maintaining the western progress narrative: academic ideas are good and order, all others are chaos and vibes.

Science is a tool. It is also a religion rivaling Christianity in scale, scope and obsessive-yet-liturgically-uneducated believers. I am interested in science as a tool; I am fully disinterested in fundemental faith assumption of science (that the universe is governed by consistent and knowable laws). Science as religion pleads an optimism about how its *supposed* to work and discards objects of criticism as heretical. I refuse to engage with this perspective. The purpose of a system is what it does. However, i am going to endeavor to talk about the fundemental flaws of science that would still be present without capitalism and specifically bad-faith (academic def; do not earnestly believe what they have said to be true) actors. I am doing this because I DO think this critique is essential to understanding the limitations of science and how we utilize it + other systems to our best advantage.

Science is a toolset for generating a predicitive model, because humans love predicitive models. They're very useful! They help us make choices like how to care for plants and the land, what foods to eat, what medicine to take. There are actually many other tools for generating predicitive models, and I will speak to one shortly. Science accomplishes this by identifying an observation, hypothesis and variables, running scenarios in different configurations to see what may happen, and concluding something either about the experiment itself or the nature of the world. We accomplish those conclusions these days through the application of statistics, which can do some really nasty shit--not just making results seem more promising than they are!

Science is optimized for big answers on a fast timescale. It is a really useful tool in a lot of applications. In the medical field, I can say wholeheartedly that im a big fan of the scientific model as applied to communicable pathogens. I like cultures and i like testing novel antibiotics to see if they do what we want them to do. The situation of a mass outbreak is one where we want a big fast answer.

However, this tool has a lot of limits that I dont think are adequately described by just talking about the replication crisis or specific scientific atrocities. I want to push back on the idea that its "throwing spaghetti at the wall"; cuz i think we both know thats not actually true. Its testing hypotheses based on observations.

Observations are cultural. I firmly believe that one of the problems with psychiatry is that the perceptions, the "common knowlege" as is being derided here, of what Madness is and how it works predate science significantly, and they're ugly. The lobotomy is not throwing ugly evil shit at the wall and seeing what it does. The lobotomy is the "observation" that a certain kind of mad person is the way they are because they are over-active, too much, want stuff too badly, are plagued with an urge to sin so great that it must be excised before they can be saved by willpower and prayer (therapy). The hypothesis then follows: if we have "observed" that Mad people are "too much", we cut part of them away. If we have "observed" that Mad people desire incorrectly, we inhibit their ability to desire. In this way, the logic of the lobotomy is still active in the world and still being used to generate atrocities that I firmly believe we will look back on as a horrific stain on the history of official medicine in 10, 20, 50 years.

Psychiatry and psychology are easy to poke holes in, but this issue is at play in other areas of medical science as well. I am less well versed, but my associates in cardiology will very-unhappily tell you that a similar caliber of "observations" into the nature of human beings, specifically Black people, plague their field and cause deaths they themselves have witnessed firsthand.

The other foundational problem with science is statistics. This is why science as a legal basis actually sucks shit, though as I said im not really interested in constructing more legally-appriopriate knowledge sets. Statistical analysis as the bar for evaluating experimental results can tell us what works most of the time in most cases; especially in those high-quality mass-scale studies. There will be a number of cases where something doesnt work that works most of the rest of the time, and a number of cases where something works that doesnt most other times. I fucking care about statistical outliers. I am one. People i love live in this space. Land i love lives in this space. I believe there is value in high-reward low-risk low-likelihood interventions being widely available. I fully and completely reject the cultural value that most people is good enough, let alone the bar to strive for.

So, alternatives? There isnt one alternative because I dont subscribe to science as religion and thus I do not require it to be an all-encompassing world view or thrown on the trash heap; and i feel this way about other predicitive modeling tools. I believe in doing things that get the results i want for myself, my loved ones and social relations, and the land we participate in; without exploiting others in the process and in a way that hopefully supports others in achieving the same. Many tools fit in that box. I will however take this moment to soapbox about what im gonna term "conversational knolwege" because I think its an interesting model that kind of precursors our modern understanding of citations but retains a lot more nuance.

One benefit of science, and i think WHY it lends itself to systems such as legality, mass medicine, and so on: it endeavors to replace interpersonal trust and deep individual basis of knowledge. Who this benefits is a hell of a question: on the day to day scale, we can say it benefits the average person. It's nice not to have to trust your doctor, a person you probably dont actually know, who has financial and social interests that might diverge from your own, to have your best interests at heart: let alone agree with you on what your best interests actually ARE or have the knowlege and decision making skills to help you get there. Its nice to believe that everything will be okay, that there is an answer, and that you arent personally responsible for making hard decisions in the world. On the mass scale, this way of living doesnt benefit us, it benefits power. Medical codification as a stage of empire is an entirely different can of worms i could talk about forever but suffice to say: medicine is a constant cultural practice present among all people. States get big. In the same way they endeavor to retain power over people by preventing them from feeding themselves etc; they outlaw, burn, and replace the common medical culture with a system more conducive to control. Prescientific medical models have also been used in this way; as are the state-backed nonscientific medical models traditional Chinese medicine and Ayurveda (medical nationalism is another can of worms we can talk about with all three, western industrial, tcm, ans Ayurveda, but especially tcm...its rlly fucking interesting. Don't even get me started on the medical models of colonized countries that fall somewhere between these three powers. Aaaa! I love this shit. Anyway).

Point being: this benefit is damage control for a society that perpetuates itself via deskilling the population. What does generation and transference of knowlege look like in populations with high individual skills?

One answer is conversation. It goes like this:

Person A spends their life engaging with an area that they are passionate about and have a high aptitude for. Maybe its a field of medicine, drug production etc, maybe its a field of engagement with the land like food production or having trails that dont erode to shit or building structures that work well for the beings using them. They come to an understanding of the world based on what they personally see happen (notably, not "vibes", watching something over years is NOT the same as reading half of three news articles and adopting a worldview based on it, I think we can all agree that the latter is an unhelpful way to engage with information). They collect students who learn those worldviews. Maybe they write a book or in oral traditions, pen a folktale with something important to say about the world. Person B is one of their students just starting out in the world. They compare this worldview to what they experience. They travel, sometimes hundreds or thousands of miles, to meet a person with the same role as person A in a different community. Person B learns different things and, by transporting what person A knows into a new context, finds problems with it, and finds where it succeeds. Person B teaches. Person C, a student of person B, has a both what person A and person B thinks, and continues the process adding their own voice to the conversation. Person C carries these three perspectives and communicates them to person D, by saying who told them what they have to repeat and in what context. This "citation" is then allowed to carry elements of personality, reputation, and nuance in trust. This happens over and over again for thousands of years. Every lifetime makes it better.

The problem with this engagement of knolwege is that it is slow. It leads to understandings of the world that are not as good at adapting to the chaotic and rapidly changing conditions of our modern world and its documented to be not as good at responding to drastic shifts (e.g. natural disasters) in history. It requires every individual to participate to at least some degree in the stewardship of knolwege. It requires willingness to break from dead ends and acknowledge we were wrong. Ugly things have happened when we fail to do this and especially when social configurations make it harder: for example, societies that abuse their children are responsible for some of the gnarlier and more shocking historical medical practices, because doing something to someone when they are a child is an easy way to make humans keep doing stuff that sucks (sumn we're otherwise fairly good at avoiding).

What it is very good at is creating skillsets that are nuanced and treat situations as individual; it is good at making knowledge systems that account for statistical outliers. In part, it is because its a system that DEMANDS an answer to *why* something is known: even moreso than science, because a citation doesnt suffice, we are forced to interrogate to trust.

Maybe, especially to folks who are already fully bought in to the logic of the academy, this system cannot shine a candle to the imagined benefits of a perfect science. As I said, I refuse to engage with the imagined benefits of a perfect science, because we might as well start talking about what we should do if the moon is made of cheese. And what the real world right now has to say is that a large swath of interventions generated in these traditional modes WORK, when trialed in good faith; with limitations for drastic shifts in climate, bodies etc occurring over the last few hundred years, +/- the severing of many of these traditions and thus their ability to grow and change approximately concurrent with industrialization and the acceleration of *gestures* All This Shit. (For example, many plant-based drugs that were exceptionally low risk 100, 200 years ago now carry much higher risk or unknown risk profiles in an age of pharmacuetical prescriptions and way more possible drug interactions).

So, that is a way of answering "how do you know?" That is neither a scientific citation nor "vibes". I am personally most interested in hybrid strategies and novel study models because of my aforementioned investment in working with statistical outliers AND the rapid shifts in the world that are occurring in our lifetimes. I think it is imperative to reject science as religion and the comforting position that we'll solve all problems by following the right rules. I also think that its a mistake to resign ourselves to "the best we have", because the best we have doesnt fucking cut it, definitely not for me or people I care about.

So idk if thats the weigh-in you wanted but its what I got. Im not gonna put hella cites in a fucking Tumblr post i wrote before breakfast for one friend, and anyway most of this info is the synthesis of rlly diffuse inputs across historical texts, medical anthropology, conversations with mentors across the spectrum of academy to licensed practice to traditionally educated practitioners to wingnuts like myself, and a ton of dives into random questions about topics across the above spectrum. I can provide my standard entry reading list upon request and as always my #1 reccomendation for people who are new to medical anthropology is The Expressiveness of the Body by Shigehisa Kuriyama. Peace ✌️

"these researchers published a paper on something that literally any of us could have told you 🙄" ok well my supervisors wont let me write something in my thesis unless I can back it up with a citation so maybe it's a good thing that they're amplifying your voice to the scientific community in a way that prevents people from writing off your experiences as annecdotal evidence

#medicine #fair warning: ill talk to my friends & folks who wanna have a real convo but this topic is pretty to the edge of what i care about spending #my energy on so imma block fast & freely if i dont already kno u

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