#i change my mind and judge it constantly!!!!

[pxnsneverland]

Riding With Devils | biker!Austin Butler x OC (part 6)

(gif source: asaemory)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

plot summary: Sophie Ann Sutton appears to have the perfect life as a high school senior in a small town. With straight A's, a thriving social life, and a scholarship to her dream college, she feels invincible—especially with her loyal best friend by her side. But everything changes when she crosses paths with Austin, the dangerously charming son of the local biker gang's leader. Their worlds collide in an electrifying romance that defies all expectations, pulling Sophie into a whirlwind of rebellion, excitement and danger.

pairings: austin butler x oc

word count: 5040

warnings/notes:

Chapter 6: A Scandalous Love Affair

Frank Butler sat in his darkened office, a glass of whiskey untouched on the desk before him. The surveillance photos spread across his blotter told a story his son thought he'd kept hidden: Austin helping Sophie into Miguel's car, Austin watching her house from across the street, Austin scaling the trellis to her bedroom window.

Frank lifted one photo, studying it in the dim light—his son's face captured in profile, looking at the Sutton girl with an expression Frank hadn't seen since Austin was a child looking at his mother. Unguarded. Vulnerable. Completely fucking stupid.

A soft knock at the office door interrupted Frank's brooding. "Come in."

Decker entered, his weathered face grim in the lamplight. "Got those additional photos you requested."

Frank gestured to the chair across from his desk. "Show me."

Decker spread a fresh set of surveillance photos across the already cluttered surface. These were clearer, taken with a telephoto lens from the abandoned house across from the Sutton residence. Austin climbing the trellis. Austin disappearing through Sophie's bedroom window. Austin emerging forty minutes later, his hair disheveled, his expression soft in a way that made Frank's jaw clench.

"How long was he inside?" Frank asked, his voice deceptively calm.

"Forty-three minutes," Decker replied. "Left around eleven-fifteen."

Frank picked up another photo—this one showing Austin and Sophie silhouetted against her bedroom window, their bodies close together in what was unmistakably an intimate embrace.

"Forty-three minutes," Frank repeated, setting the photo down with deliberate precision. "Plenty of time for a young man to make some very poor decisions."

Decker shifted uncomfortably. "What do you want us to do about it?"

Frank leaned back in his chair, his pale eyes reflecting the desk lamp's glow. "Nothing. Yet." He gathered the photos into a neat stack. "But keep watching. I want to know every time my son visits that house, every conversation he has with the girl, every look they exchange at school." He paused, his fingers drumming against the desk. "And I want to know what Judge Sutton does when he discovers his precious daughter is spreading her legs for Frank Butler's son."

Decker's eyebrows rose slightly. "You think the judge doesn't know?"

"William Sutton is many things, but he's not stupid," Frank replied, pouring himself another whiskey. "He'll figure it out eventually. The question is what he'll do about it." A cold smile played at Frank's lips. "A federal judge's daughter caught in bed with the heir to a criminal empire? That's the kind of scandal that ends careers."

"Or starts wars," Decker observed quietly.

Frank's smile widened. "Exactly. Either outcome serves our purposes." He lifted his glass in a mock toast. "To young love and all its consequences."

***

On Monday, Sophie arrived at school early, her nerves frayed from a weekend of anxious waiting. She'd jumped at every sound outside her window, half-hoping Austin would return, half-terrified her father would somehow discover what had happened in her bedroom Friday night. The kiss replayed in her mind constantly—the surprising gentleness of his touch, the hunger that had awakened in her response.

She'd spent Sunday making excuses to avoid debate practice, claiming a migraine while actually pacing her room, wondering what Austin was doing, whether he was safe. Miguel had texted her once—a cryptic message saying only "All quiet. See you Monday."

Now she stood at her locker, arranging books with mechanical precision while scanning the hallway for any sign of Austin or Miguel.

"You missed the entire student council meeting on Friday," Caroline said, appearing beside her. "Jimmy was furious."

Sophie winced. "I know. I'm sorry. I wasn't feeling well."

"You could have called," Caroline pressed. "We had to reschedule the entire spring dance committee agenda."

"It won't happen again," Sophie promised, the words automatic.

Caroline studied her face. "Are you okay? You seem... different."

"Just tired," Sophie lied, closing her locker. "Didn't sleep well this weekend."

"Because of the mentorship program?" Caroline lowered her voice. "Jimmy says it's dangerous. That Butler and that new football player are using you for something."

Sophie felt her jaw tighten. "Jimmy needs to mind his own business."

Caroline's eyes widened at Sophie's sharp tone. "I'm just concerned. We all are. This isn't like you, Sophie."

"Maybe you don't know what I'm like," Sophie replied, immediately regretting the words when she saw hurt flash across Caroline's face. "I'm sorry. That was unfair. I'm just tired of everyone telling me who I am and what I should do."

"It's not about telling you what to do," Caroline said quietly. "It's about keeping you safe. Butler has a reputation. His family—"

"I know about his family," Sophie cut her off. "But Austin isn't just his last name."

Caroline studied her face for a long moment. "Oh my God," she whispered. "You like him."

"That's not—" Sophie began, but the denial died on her lips. The memory of Austin's kiss, of his hands gentle against her skin, made her cheeks flush.

"Sophie, think about what you're doing," Caroline urged, glancing around to make sure they weren't overheard. "Your father is a federal judge. Austin's father runs the Devil's Mark. Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?"

Before Sophie could respond, a hush fell over the hallway. She turned to see Miguel walking toward them, his usual athletic swagger subdued. A few steps behind him was Austin, leather jacket replaced with a simple white t-shirt that somehow made him look even more dangerous in the fluorescent-lit hallway.

Students parted before them like water around stones. Austin's eyes found Sophie immediately, his expression carefully neutral though something flickered in his gaze when he saw her standing with Caroline.

"We'll talk later," Caroline whispered, squeezing Sophie's arm before retreating down the hall.

Austin stopped a few feet away, his posture deliberately casual. "Morning, Princess," he said, just loud enough for her to hear. "Sleep well?"

The double meaning wasn't lost on Sophie. "Fine," she replied, her voice steadier than she felt. "You?"

"Not particularly." His eyes swept over her face, lingering on her lips for a fraction of a second. "We need to talk. After the mentoring session."

Miguel shifted uncomfortably beside them. "Guys, people are staring."

He wasn't wrong. The hallway had gone eerily quiet, dozens of eyes watching their interaction with undisguised curiosity.

"Let them stare," Austin replied, though he took a small step back from Sophie. "I'll see you in the library at three."

As he walked away, Sophie became acutely aware of the whispers erupting around her. By lunch, the entire school would be buzzing with speculation about Sophie Sutton and Austin Butler.

"You okay?" Miguel asked quietly.

Sophie nodded, though her stomach was tied in knots. "Did something happen this weekend? After Friday?"

Miguel hesitated, glancing around at the curious onlookers. "Not here," he murmured. "I'll tell you during our session. Just... be careful today, okay? Jimmy's been asking questions about you and Austin."

"Jimmy needs to mind his own business," Sophie repeated, louder this time. The familiar weight of expectations pressed down on her shoulders, but for once, she didn't feel the need to carry it. "I need to get to class."

As she walked away, Sophie felt dozens of eyes following her progress down the hall. The perfect Sophie Sutton, suddenly at the center of scandal and speculation. The thought should have terrified her—her entire life had been built around avoiding exactly this kind of attention. Instead, she felt strangely liberated, as if shedding a skin that had grown too tight.

***

By lunchtime, the rumors had evolved from whispers to open discussion. Sophie sat at her usual table, mechanically eating a sandwich while trying to ignore the stares from surrounding tables.

"Is it true?" Maggie slid onto the bench beside her, eyes wide with excitement. "Did Austin Butler really climb through your bedroom window Friday night?"

Sophie nearly choked. "What? Who told you that?"

"So it is true!" Maggie whispered triumphantly. "Oh my God, Sophie!"

"Keep your voice down," Sophie hissed, glancing around the cafeteria. "And no, it's not—" She stopped, unable to form the lie. "How did anyone even know about that?"

Maggie's expression sobered. "Tommy Wilson's older brother lives across from you. Said he saw someone climbing your trellis Friday night." She leaned closer. "Sophie, what are you doing? Your father would lose his mind."

"Don't you think I know that?" Sophie pushed her lunch away, appetite gone. "It's complicated, Maggie."

"Complicated is failing calculus. This is suicide," Maggie replied. "Austin Butler isn't just some bad boy you can date to rebel against your parents. His family is dangerous."

"You don't know him," Sophie said quietly.

"And you do? After what, a week?" Maggie's voice softened. "Look, I get it. He's hot, he's forbidden, he rescued you from Jimmy. But this isn't a movie, Soph. There are real consequences."

Before Sophie could respond, a shadow fell across their table. Jimmy stood there, his expression a mixture of hurt and anger.

"Can we talk?" he asked Sophie, pointedly ignoring Maggie.

"I'm eating lunch," Sophie replied, though her half-eaten sandwich belied the claim.

"It's important," Jimmy insisted.

Sophie sighed, gathering her things. "Fine. Five minutes."

She followed Jimmy to a relatively quiet corner near the vending machines, already dreading whatever he had to say.

"I know about Friday night," Jimmy began without preamble. "About Butler climbing into your trellis. Did you fuck him?”

Sophie's hand connected with Jimmy's cheek before she'd consciously decided to move. The sharp crack echoed off the cafeteria walls, and conversations at nearby tables fell silent.

"Don't you ever speak to me like that again," Sophie said, her voice trembling with fury.

Jimmy's hand flew to his reddening cheek, shock replacing the smirk on his face. "Sophie, I—"

"You what? You thought you could talk to me like I'm some kind of object?" Sophie stepped closer, her green eyes blazing. "Just because you can't handle rejection doesn't give you the right to humiliate me in public."

"I was just asking—"

"No, you were being cruel. And pathetic." Sophie gathered her books, her hands shaking with adrenaline. "Stay away from me, Jimmy. I mean it."

She walked away on unsteady legs, acutely aware of every eye in the cafeteria following her movement. The perfect Sophie Sutton had just slapped the captain of the debate team in front of half the school. By the end of the day, it would be the talk of Millfield High.

Back at her original table, Maggie stared at her with something approaching awe. "Remind me never to get on your bad side," she whispered.

Sophie sank onto the bench, her heart still hammering. "I can't believe I just did that."

"I can't believe you haven't done it sooner," Maggie replied. "Jimmy's been treating you like his property for months."

***

The afternoon crawled by with excruciating slowness. Sophie found herself unable to concentrate in any of her classes, her mind cycling between replaying the kiss from Friday night and dreading whatever Austin needed to tell her after their mentoring session. By the time three o'clock arrived, her nerves were stretched to the breaking point.

She reached the library to find Miguel already seated at their usual table, his expression grim. Austin was nowhere to be seen.

“Heard you slapped Jimmy in the caf,” Miguel grinned, though the smile didn't reach his eyes. "Wish I'd seen it. Carson's had it coming for a while."

Sophie set her books on the table with more force than necessary. "Can we not talk about it? I've already had enough whispers and stares for one lifetime."

"Sure," Miguel agreed easily, opening his history textbook. "But just so you know, half the girls in school are calling you their hero right now."

Sophie blinked in surprise. "What?"

"Jimmy's reputation isn't as pristine as he pretends," Miguel explained. "Turns out you're not the first girl he's gotten handsy with."

Before Sophie could process this information, the library doors swung open and Austin strode in. His eyes immediately found Sophie, something unreadable flickering in their blue depths before his expression settled into careful neutrality. Mrs. Ramirez looked up from the circulation desk, her smile faltering slightly at Austin's intense demeanor.

"You're late, Mr. Butler," she called out.

"Traffic," Austin replied without taking his eyes off Sophie.

He slid into the chair beside her, close enough that their elbows brushed. The contact sent an electric current up Sophie's arm, memories of Friday night's kiss rushing back with startling clarity.

"I heard about Jimmy," Austin murmured, his voice low enough that only she could hear. "You okay?"

"Fine," Sophie replied, focusing intently on opening her textbook. "Can we just focus on the mentoring? I've had enough drama for one day."

Austin studied her profile for a moment longer before nodding. "Sure, Princess. Whatever you want."

The session proceeded with surprising normalcy. They reviewed Miguel's history essay, discussed his upcoming English test, and mapped out a study schedule for his calculus midterm. Anyone observing would have seen three teenagers focused on academics, with no hint of the undercurrents flowing beneath the surface.

When Mrs. Ramirez announced the end of the session, Sophie felt a flutter of anxiety. Austin had said they needed to talk afterward, and judging by the tension in his shoulders, it wasn't going to be a pleasant conversation.

"Miguel, give us a minute?" Austin asked as they packed up their materials.

Miguel nodded, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. "I'll wait by the car."

After he left, Austin led Sophie to a secluded corner of the library, sheltered by tall stacks of reference books. "We have a problem," he said without preamble.

"Just one?" Sophie replied, aiming for lightness but achieving only brittleness.

"My father knows about Friday night," Austin said, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "Someone was watching your house. They took pictures."

The floor seemed to tilt beneath Sophie's feet. "Pictures? Of what?"

"Of me climbing into your window. Of us..." he hesitated, "...together."

Sophie's face drained of all color. "Oh God. What does that mean?"

Austin's jaw clenched, his hands unconsciously forming fists at his sides. “It means my father has leverage. Against your father, and against me.”

"What kind of leverage?" Sophie whispered, though she dreaded the answer.

Austin reached out stroking her cheek with infinite gentleness, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. "He wants your father to back off. And he wants me kept in line. He’ll use any means to do that. Including harming you.”

"So, what do we do?" Sophie asked, her voice barely audible even in the quiet library corner.

Austin's eyes darkened as he glanced around, making sure they were truly alone. "We need to be smarter than them. More careful." His hand dropped from her face reluctantly. "No more late-night visits. No more private conversations at school."

"You want us to stay away from each other," Sophie said. The thought settled like a stone in her stomach.

"I want us to appear to stay away from each other," Austin corrected, leaning closer. "My father expects me to either defy him openly or fall in line. We need a third option."

Sophie searched his face, trying to understand. "What kind of third option?"

"We let him think he's won. That I'm using you for information about your father, that whatever..." he hesitated, "...whatever is happening between us is just part of the game."

"And is it?" The question slipped out before Sophie could stop it. "Part of the game?"

Austin's expression softened, a vulnerability flashing across his features that made him look younger, less certain. "No," he said simply. "It's the only real thing in my life right now."

The words hung between them like a confession. Sophie's breath caught in her throat as Austin's gaze dropped to her lips. In one fluid motion, he closed the distance between them, his mouth capturing hers with an urgency that made her knees weak. His hands tangled in her hair as he backed her against the bookshelf, the spines of ancient encyclopedias pressing into her shoulders. Sophie melted into him, her fingers gripping the front of his shirt, pulling him closer despite the voice in her head warning of consequences.

This kiss was different from Friday night—desperate, hungry, as though he was memorizing the taste of her. When they finally broke apart, both breathless, Austin rested his forehead against hers.

"We're playing with fire," he whispered against her lips.

"I know," Sophie replied, her hands still clutching his shirt.

“Fuck.” Austin pulled back slightly, studying her face with an intensity that made her shiver. “I shouldn’t be doing this. You have your whole future ahead of you, one away from this place.”

"What about your future?" Sophie asked, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

He shivered under her touch. "My future was decided the day I was born a Butler."

"It doesn't have to be," Sophie insisted. "You could—"

Austin silenced her with another brief, fierce kiss. "Don't," he murmured against her mouth. "Don't offer me impossible things. I’m not good for you, Sophie.”

“Shouldn’t I decide what’s good for me?”

"Maybe for the first time in your life," Austin replied, a hint of his usual smirk returning. His fingers traced her collarbone, feather-light.

A small gasped came from her lips, but she never took her eyes away from his. "My whole life has been one carefully planned step after another. College applications, debate tournaments, student council—all of it leading to some perfect future I never questioned.” She traced his collarbone as well, a small part of it peeking out from the neck of his t-shirt. “You’re the only real thing in my life too.”

The library doors opened with a bang, making them both jump. Austin pulled Sophie deeper into the shelves as Mrs. Ramirez's voice carried across the room.

"I'm locking up in five minutes! Anyone still here needs to leave now!"

Austin's eyes locked with Sophie's. "We need a plan," he whispered. "Somewhere we can meet safely, away from my father's people and your father's expectations."

Sophie thought quickly. "The old boathouse at Millfield Lake. No one goes there this time of year."

"Tomorrow. After school." Austin brushed his lips against her forehead. "We'll figure this out, I promise."

They emerged from the stacks separately, Austin first, then Sophie a few minutes later. Mrs. Ramirez gave them a suspicious look but said nothing as they left the library.

Outside, the afternoon sunlight was fading, casting long shadows across the school parking lot. Austin kept a deliberate distance between them as they walked, though his eyes constantly scanned their surroundings.

"My car's over there," Sophie said, gesturing toward her Volkswagen.

Austin nodded. "I'll walk you."

"That defeats the purpose of appearing to stay away from each other," Sophie pointed out, though she made no move to stop him.

"One last indulgence," Austin replied with a ghost of his usual smirk. "Besides, Jimmy might be lurking around, nursing his wounded pride."

"I shouldn't have slapped him," Sophie sighed, running a hand through her hair. "It was impulsive and reckless."

"It was honest," Austin corrected. "Something you've been in short supply of until recently."

They reached her car, standing awkwardly beside it like strangers making small talk. Sophie fumbled with her keys, hyper-aware of Austin's presence, of the memory of his lips on hers just minutes ago.

"Tomorrow," Austin said quietly. "Four o'clock. Don't tell anyone where you're going."

"What about Miguel?" Sophie asked, glancing toward the football player leaning against his Honda several spaces away.

"Miguel knows to keep his mouth shut." Austin's eyes softened as they swept over her face one last time. "Be careful, Princess."

***

The Millfield Lake boathouse had seen better days. Sophie picked her way across the weathered dock, careful to avoid the rotting planks. The afternoon sun glinted off the water, painting the lake's surface in shades of gold and amber. She'd told her parents she was staying late at school for debate practice, the lie slipping easily from her tongue. Every step she took away from her carefully constructed life felt like both a betrayal and a liberation.

The boathouse door creaked as she pushed it open. Inside, dust motes danced in the sunbeams that filtered through the grimy windows. Old canoes and rowboats hung from the rafters, creating strange shadows across the wooden floor. A rustic table and a few folding chairs were pushed against one wall, remnants of the summer camp that had abandoned the facility years ago.

Sophie checked her watch—3:52. She was early, anxiety having driven her from school the moment the final bell rang. She paced the small space, rehearsing what she wanted to say to Austin, how they might navigate the impossible situation they'd found themselves in.

The sound of a motorcycle engine cut through the quiet, then faded to silence. Sophie's heart hammered against her ribs as footsteps approached the boathouse. The door swung open, and Austin stood silhouetted against the afternoon light, his leather jacket gleaming in the sun.

"You came," he said, a hint of surprise in his voice.

"Did you think I wouldn't?" Sophie asked, suddenly self-conscious under his intense gaze.

Austin stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "I thought you might come to your senses."

"Maybe this is me coming to my senses," Sophie replied, holding her ground as he moved closer.

A ghost of a smile played across Austin's lips. "Careful, Princess. Talk like that could get you in trouble."

"I'm already in trouble," Sophie said quietly. "We both are."

Austin reached her in three long strides, his hands cupping her face with surprising gentleness. "Yeah," he agreed, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "We definitely are."

Their lips met with the desperate intensity of people who knew their time together was stolen. Sophie's hands slid beneath Austin's jacket, feeling the solid warmth of him through his t-shirt. He backed her against the edge of the rustic table, lifting her easily to sit on its surface, stepping between her parted knees.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you," Austin murmured against her neck, his lips tracing a path from her collarbone to the sensitive spot behind her ear. "Not for a single minute."

Sophie shivered, her fingers tangling in his hair. "Me neither.

Austin pulled back slightly, his blue eyes serious as they searched her face. "We need to talk about what happens next."

"I know," Sophie sighed. Though part of her wanted to lose herself in his touch and forget about the complications waiting beyond the boathouse walls. "Your father. You’ve seen him use people before?”

Austin's jaw tightened, his hands sliding down to rest on her waist. “Use people. Torture people.” His eyes darkened. “Kill people. Anything to get what he wants. He doesn’t care. Most people outside of the gang are just tools to him.” His thumbs traced gentle circles against her sides.

Sophie felt a chill run through her despite Austin's warm touch. "And what does he want now? From me, from my father?"

"Your father's been building a RICO case against the Devil's Mark. Against my father specifically." Austin's voice was low, matter-of-fact. "He's been collecting evidence, turning witnesses, freezing assets. That’s a declaration of war in my father’s eyes. He wants him dead.”

Sophie's blood ran cold. "My father's in danger?"

"We all are." Austin's hands tightened on her waist. "Frank Butler doesn't leave loose ends. Once he decides someone's a threat, they either bend or break."

"And me? Am I just a loose end to him?" Sophie's voice wavered despite her attempt to sound brave.

Austin's expression darkened. "You're leverage. A way to control your father... and me." His thumb traced her cheekbone with a gentleness that contrasted with his words. "He thinks if he threatens you, your father will back off the investigation. And he thinks if he hurts you, I'll fall in line."

"Will you?" Sophie whispered.

Austin's eyes flickered with something dangerous. "If he hurts you, I'll kill him."

The words hung between them, stark and absolute. Sophie's breath caught at the quiet certainty in his voice.

"You don't mean that," she whispered.

"I do." His hands tightened on her waist. "That's what scares me. I've spent my whole life following his orders, being the perfect soldier. But this—you—it's different."

Sophie placed her palm against his chest, feeling his heart pound beneath her fingers. "There has to be another way. We can't just wait for your father to make a move."

Austin was quiet for a moment, his mind working through possibilities. "Your father's investigation—how close is he to making arrests?"

"I don't know," Sophie admitted. "He never discusses cases at home. But lately he's been working late, having private calls in his study."

Austin stepped back, running a hand through his hair. "If your father has enough evidence to bring down the Devil's Mark, my father will get desperate. And desperate men do terrible things."

"So what do we do?" Sophie asked, her voice small in the dusty boathouse.

Austin began pacing the cramped space, his boots echoing against the weathered floorboards. "We need to know what your father has. How close he is to bringing charges."

"I can't spy on my own father," Sophie protested, though even as she said it, she knew she was already considering it.

"Not spy," Austin corrected, stopping in front of her. "Just... listen. Pay attention. If we know his timeline, we can plan accordingly."

Sophie slid down from the table, wrapping her arms around herself. "And then what? What's the endgame here, Austin? Your father isn't going to just disappear. My father isn't going to stop prosecuting criminals."

"I don't know," Austin admitted, his voice raw with frustration. "I've been trying to figure that out since Friday night. All I know is that I won't let him use you as a weapon against your father."

"Maybe I should just tell my father everything," Sophie said quietly. "About the mentorship, about your father's threats, about us."

Austin's head snapped up. "No. Absolutely not."

"Why not? He could protect me. He could—"

"He could get you killed," Austin cut her off. "If your father moves against my father now, before he's ready, Frank will retaliate. And the first target will be you."

Sophie sank into one of the folding chairs, the weight of their situation settling on her shoulders like a stone. "So I'm trapped. I can't tell my father, I can't stay away from you, and I can't keep pretending everything's normal."

Austin knelt beside her chair, his hands covering hers. "Hey. Look at me." When she met his eyes, he continued, "We're going to figure this out. I promise."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I have to be." His thumb traced across her knuckles. "Because the alternative is unacceptable."

Sophie studied his face, seeing the determination there, but also the fear he was trying to hide. "What about Miguel? Where does he fit into all this?"

Austin's expression darkened. "Miguel's walking a tightrope. His uncle expects him to be useful, my father expects him to be compliant. One wrong step and he falls."

"Can we trust him?"

"I think so. He's scared, but he's not stupid. He knows his best chance of survival is keeping everyone happy while getting the hell out of Millfield."

Sophie nodded, then stood abruptly. "I should go. If I'm late getting home, my parents will ask questions."

Austin rose as well, his hands finding her waist again. "Tomorrow's session. We act normal. Professional. Give them nothing to suspect."

"And after that?"

"We meet here again. Same time." His forehead touched hers.

Sophie's hands slid up to rest against his chest. "Austin, what if we can't make this work? What if there's no way out?"

"Then we go down fighting," he murmured, his lips brushing against her temple. "But I'm not giving up on this. Not yet."

The conviction in his voice made something flutter in Sophie's chest—part hope, part terror. She pulled back to look at him, memorizing the sharp angles of his face, the way the fading sunlight caught the gold in his hair.

"I need to ask you something," she said quietly. "And I need you to be honest with me."

Austin's expression grew wary. "What?"

"If it came down to choosing between me and your father—between protecting me and protecting the Devil's Mark—what would you do?"

Austin's jaw worked silently, his blue eyes searching her face as if looking for an escape from the impossible choice she'd presented. "Sophie—"

"Please," she whispered. "I need to know what I'm walking into."

Austin's hands tightened on her waist, his knuckles white with tension. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely audible. "I've been asking myself that same question since Friday night. And the answer terrifies me."

"Tell me."

"You," he said simply. "Even if it destroyed everything I've ever known. And that scares me. It scares me how much I want you."

Sophie's breath caught. The words should have filled her with relief, but instead they made her stomach clench with dread. Because she could see the cost of that choice written in the lines of his face, could hear the grief for a life he'd never get to live.

Sophie rose on her tiptoes, pressing her lips to his in a kiss that tasted like salt and desperation. When they broke apart, both were breathing hard.

"I should go," she repeated, though she made no move to leave his arms.

"Yeah," Austin agreed, though his hands remained firmly planted on her waist. "You should."

Neither of them moved for a long moment, both reluctant to break the spell of the boathouse, to return to a world where they had to pretend indifference.

Finally, Austin stepped back, his hands sliding down her arms before releasing her entirely. "Give me five minutes before you leave. Just in case anyone's watching."

Sophie nodded, gathering her things with unsteady hands. At the door, Austin caught her wrist gently.

"Sophie? Be careful tomorrow. My father's unpredictable when he's planning something."

"I will," she promised, then slipped out into the fading daylight.

Stay tuned for part 7!! Click HERE to view!

[beemovieerotica]

struggling with how to word this, but putting it out there anyway:

i can fully understand the posts on here from a lot of americans being tired of "vote blue no matter who" posts when the #1 thing that people are constantly (and sometimes only?) addressing is how the republican party is going treat trans/queer people if elected.

it's part of an unfortunate pattern of prioritizing the effects on a demographic that includes white + upper class people, when people of color and those in the global south are actively and currently being killed or relegated to circumstances in which their survival is very unlikely

it is genuinely exhausting to witness this, and i was also on the fence about even participating in voting because i a) felt like it didn't matter and b) every time i voiced being frustrated with the current state of the country, white queer people would immediately step in with "but what about trans people!" -> (i am mixed race trans man)

and i say this with unending patience toward people who do this, because i know that it's not something they actively think about. but everyone already knows how the republican party is going to treat queer people. you are probably talking to another queer person when you bring up project 2025. the issue is that, for those of us who aren't white, or for those of us who are but who are conscious of ongoing struggles for people of color worldwide, the safety of people around the world feels more urgent than our own. that is the calculation that's being made.

you're not going to win votes for the democratic party by dismissing or minimizing these realities and by continually centering (white) queer people.

very few people on here and twitter are actually talking about issues beyond queer rights that concern people of color, or how the two administrations differ on these issues instead of constantly circling back to single-issue politics. this isn't an exhaustive list. but these are the issues that have actually altered my perspective and motivated me to the point of committing to casting a vote

the biden administration has been engaged in a years-long fight to allow new applicants to DACA (Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals, the program that allows undocumented individuals who arrived as children to remain in the country) after the Trump administration attempted to terminate it. the program is in limbo currently because of the actions of Trump-backed judges, with those who applied before the ruling being allowed to stay, but no new applications are being processed. Trump has repeatedly toyed with the idea of just deporting the 1.8 million people, but he continues to change his mind depending on whatever the fuck goes on in his head. he cannot be relied on to be sympathetic toward people of hispanic descent or to guarantee that DREAMers will be allowed stay in the country. biden + a democratic controlled congress will allow legal challenges to the DACA moratorium to gain ground.

the biden administration is open to returning and protecting portions of culturally important indigenous land in a way that the trump administration absolutely does not give a fuck. as of may 2024, they have established seven national monuments with plans to expand the San Gabriel Monument where the Gabrielino, Kizh / Tongva, the Chumash, Kitanemuk, Serrano, and Tataviam reside. the Berryessa Snow Mountain is also on the list, as a sacred region to the Patwin.

i'm recognizing that the US's plans for clean energy have often come into conflict with tribal sovereignty, and the biden administration could absolutely do better in navigating this. but the unfortunate dichotomy is that there would be zero commitment or investment in clean energy under a trump-led government, which poses an astounding existential threat and destabilizing force to the global south beyond any human-to-human conflict. climate change has caused and will continue to cause resource shortages, greater natural disasters, and near-lethal living conditions for those in the tropics - and the actions of the highest energy consumers (US) are to blame. biden has funneled billions of dollars into climate change mitigation and clean energy generation - trump does not believe that any of it matters.

i may circle back to this and add more as it comes up, but i'm hoping that those who are skeptical / discouraged / tired of the white queer-centric discourse on tumblr and twitter can at least process some of this. please feel free to add more articles + points but i'm asking for the sake of this post to please focus on issues that affect people of color.

[sh1-n0bu]

♡︎ 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮 𝙢𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙖 ♡︎

characters: priest!sub!blade x demon lord!nb!dom!reader

warnings: breeding, creampie, eating out, fingering, squirting, monsterfucking, non-verbal ask of consent, dirty talk, feminization (like literally), lactating, nipple stimulation, overstimulation, dacryphilia, size kink, belly bulge, cervix kissing, blade is a demon hunting priest, reader is a demon lord so they can choose whether to have a cock or pussy so basically genderfluid reader???? also reader changes blade’s anatomy to have a pussy and womb — it’s so messy okay😭😭

word count: 4.4K

notes: you KNOW shit is getting real when nobu starts word count. never thought i would be writing a bit of a dark-ish content yet here we are. the power of the horny😔 also inspired by my chat with one of ririshizu’s bots

special thank you to @theblades and @yenaakwyl for proofreading a whole damn 14 pages of filth

being a priest is no laughing matter. especially when you’re the type of priest that hunts and gets rid of demons who somehow ended up with a demon lord clinging to you, who’s constantly at your side, asking you questions about the human realm.

what was up with you, anyways? a literal demon lord, one of the lords of a deadly sin and yet here you were, dragging him around the streets, pointing at random things, wanting to sample every street food there were. sure, your human form was incredibly deceiving. a short, sweet human, clinging to his arm, excitedly pointing at the many different things that caught your attention. it would be hard for anyone to think of you as a demon lord in disguise.

except for blade. he’s been in this field of work for such a long time. constantly vanquishing demons who either were too annoying or possessed a poor, curious soul. the sharp edge of his shard sword is no laughing matter.

but you didn’t seem to mind. this demon lord, acting like a curious puppy, pulling him to each sides of the streets — ignoring the loud angry shouts of the car drivers and the constantly thinning of his wallet of course. not that blade had much to worry when it came to financial freedom. putting his life on the line and vanquishing demons from the human realm pays a generous amount.

it felt wrong to allow you to cling to him. you, a demon lord, no matter what your disguises meant or whatever pathetic excuse you came up with of wanting to sample human food. he should have gotten rid of you sooner yet no matter how much his hands twitch to unsheathe his shard sword, he just can’t seem to do it. no matter what his threats may seem or be heard of, the priest just can’t bring himself to harm you. if anything, he finds himself doing the absolute opposite, to his blatant horror.

“wait, no, don’t do that. the water just boiled so it’s hot, it could burn your tongue”

“you do realize that ice isn’t meant to be eaten, right? no, i don’t care how much of a pretty shape it’s in or if it still has the aftertaste of the coffee”

“if you eat too much raw red pepper, you could have a heart stroke. 14 is enough on one sitting. give it here”

yes, you get the point. a priest vanquishing demon, living together with a demon lord and even protecting them. hypocritical, right?

one night, as you two were cuddling on the couch and absentmindedly watching cliche horror movies that has demons with red skin and horns and a tail, that reminded something to blade. demons have unique demon forms depending on their sins and ‘birth’. but you never once showed an ounce of your demon form. not even a single slip-up.

“hmm? why do you ask? curious?” you hum softly, taking another fistful of the popcorn in the bowl. not that blade minded. if anything, he unconsciously pushed the bowl of popcorn closer to you.

“i guess so. you never even spoke of your demon form whether it has a tail or not” the priest mumbles, his husky voice turning softer just for a moment. or maybe he was just sleepy, judging by his dark eye-bags and little yawns.

oh right, you never did. but then again, blade never asked of your demon form before so, it’s to be expected after all.

just as blade had shrugged off your silence and turned his attention back to the tv, he felt something slithering around his waist. swallowing the sudden lump in his throat, he briefly looks down at what was wrapping around his waist. there, snug around his hips was a long, pale white, scaled, snake-like tail. it seemed incredibly long, judging by how it easily wrapped around his hips few times and the rest was just dangling off of the side of the couch.

was this…?

he could feel his hand twitch. itching, something under his skin itching of wanting to reach down and run his hand over the smooth looking scales of the tail.

pat! pat pat!

before blade could even make sense of what the fuck he just did, his hand had unconsciously unraveled from it’s former crossed position. one hand going down, flattening his palm over the smooth, large tail before giving it a few pats. at the same time, he could hear another low pat pat! sounds coming from the side of the couch. must be your tail ends flicking and hitting against the couch, he deducted.

briefly, blade steals a glance at your face. still watching the movie on the TV, seemingly paying no mind to the feeling of his human hand resting over your tail. it was oddly warm to the touch. from the look of it resembling a snake like tail, he expected it to be cold.

slowly, he runs his hand over the scales. soft, smooth and easily gliding over them as if it was nothing. sure, some bumps are felt on the palm of his hand but other than the occasional little ridges, it was completely smooth. how… soothing.

blade doesn’t know how or when but over the course of time you spent at his apartment, these little moments of playing with your tail had become a normal occurrence. little moments of “affection” if you will. fridays had become the weekly movie nights. blade would put on some random horror movie that you chose to be the most interesting based on the summary of the movie. half an hour or so into the movie and blade would feel the familiar scales of your tail wrap around his hips.

the priest would sometimes toy with your tail in hopes of getting you to show your true color of being a demon lord. to make you angry. to make you snap and finally show your true colors. if anything, it had the complete opposite effect as your tail only tightened around him. low, deep rumbling sounds akin to a purr coming from the depths of your chest.

briefly, the priest would catch himself wondering how it would feel to lay his head on your chest as you purr. cats have de-stressing and soothing qualities to their purrs. would demons be the same? sometimes, he would even catch himself thinking of… sacrilegious things. like how your tail would feel wrapped around his legs, opening him up for you. how your form could shapeshift and could have a human male’s anatomy. would you purposefully make it big? would you force it past his twitching rim, uncaring of his whines and pleads to wait?

ah, but that sounded so unlike you. despite being a demon lord, you have been nothing but calm and peaceful with blade. soft hums, nods of agreement, always needing his help and inquiring him of his thoughts on something.

then, would you coax him? whispering soft reassurances in the shell of his ear as you softly push your cock inch by inch inside him. a large, clawed, inhuman hand running over his stomach, talking about all sorts of things, promising to breed him full of your seeds as he cries. opening his legs wide with your tail wrapped around his thighs, wiping away his tears as he cries so prettily?

“f-fuck…” unknowingly, blade found himself with a little problem. another movie night, another time spent together ‘cuddling’. yet due to his own thoughts, blade finds himself embarrassingly hard. shit, he needed to find a way to leave the room and take care of his problem. but your tail way starting to curl around him in loops, just like how a snake would wrap itself around it’s prey.

did you know? know of his raging hard on and was just teasing him now? no. taking a brief glance at your face caused blade to come to a conclusion that you didn’t know. yet. that was the biggest part. or maybe you did considering just how your tail was moving around his waist. slipping under the hem of his shirt, slipping up, curling around his body under his shirt. scale coming in contact with skin. blade almost let out a moan at the feeling if it weren’t for him biting down on his lips.

“[n-name], get your tail off. i need to use the bathroom” internally cursing himself out for stuttering, blade can only hope that you would oblige. gods, just the way you let out a soft “hmm?” while playing innocent, smiling at him and blinking like nothing happened while your tail curls around his skin.

fuck, he was done for. you knew. you fucking knew.

“are you sure? your body seems to react positively from the amount of human interaction that i’ve had until now, blade” the end of your tail circles around his peck. slowly trailing the end as if you were going to squeeze—

“n-ngaah?!” a surprised noise comes from the priest’s mouth before he clenches his jaws shut, brows furrowing together as he tries to ignore the feeling on his chest. soft and slow circles. the end of your tail was wrapped around his nipple, pulling and rolling it between as if it was nothing. shit, when did his chest get so sensitive?

“oh that was a cute sound. do it again” you hum, turning away from the TV and looking at him now. curse you for looking so damn interested and curious as your tail fondles his nubs. blade can feel his pants starting to form a wet patch as his breathing becomes more labored.

“t-take… your goddamn tail off. i swear, i’ll ghh—! chop it into pieces…!” despite his best efforts, his words had no bite. just weak mumblings of a pathetic excuse of a priest being turned on as a literal demon lord tugs at his nipple. he was even starting to quietly whine in place as he tries to swallow down his moans.

“say, blade. i read from somewhere that human chest can lactate when stimulated enough. can you lactate?” blade almost shrieked at your words. lactating? him? while it was true that human women can lactate if they gave birth, he was unsure about men being able to lactate.

“n-no! can’t! i’m a man, it’s impossible for my chest to produce mi—ungh!” his words die quickly in his throat when your tail clenched around his nipple tightly. pulling on it, familiar to a pinching motion. since when did his body get so sensitive like this? or was this all your doing? did you secretly put a spell on him to make him sensitive?

“stop..! [n-name] stop ooungh! please, stop! i’m telling you, i’m a man. i can’t lactate like a woman!” his pleads fall on deaf ears as you slip his shirt off over his head. instead this time, using your hands to knead and fondle his pecks. squeezing, rolling his sensitive nubs between your fingers, even tugging on them. it all got blade letting out uncharacteristic high pitched noises like a cat in heat.

“p-please… stop this, [name]..” blade trails off, red in the face, shame, embarrassment and arousal swirling in his stomach like a hot bubbling lava as he admits defeat and whines helplessly.

“then wriggle yourself out of my tail. it’s loose around you, bladie” you briefly retort as you suckle on his nipple. mouth latched to his chest, biting and planting wet kisses all around his soft pink areola. as weak as his whimpers and pathetic his begging were, he really wasn’t making a single attempt to pull back. you have given him enough chances even now as your tail stays loose around him. yet he still tries to act like he hates it.

switching between giving attention to his two nipples with blade not even thinking of pulling himself out of your tail, the movie plays in the background, long forgotten. you were determined to make this weird human of yours lactate. you can make him!

it didn’t took much longer until blade let out a yelp as a warm liquid drops in your mouth. the taste oddly sweet and a bit thick in texture. realizing that his chest was feeling much more heavier and nipples felt more wetter than before, the priest’s eyes widen in horror and arousal. did you really managed to stimulate him enough to make him lactate?

“oh? so, i was right! humans can lactate regardless of their gender” you let out a soft giggle, internally cheering as a bright smile comes across your face. the sheer amount of exuberance you showed in his lactation had caused blade to feebly attempt to cover his chest.

“don’t! don’t look… it’s embarrassing…” the man whines, shaking hands covering up his leaking nubs. but that proves to be futile as his hands covering his chest had caused him to twitch. everything felt so much and so little at the same time. his poor cock was neglected and weeping, staining his pants as you stimulate his nipples as he whines.

this wasn’t supposed to happen! he wasn’t supposed to be this sensitive to your touches.

but the leaking of his milk had seemed to cause something to stir in your chest. an odd sense of possessiveness and need to claim him growing in your heart, tugging at it. laying your palm flat against his stomach, you rub slow circles onto it. somehow, it had helped to lessen blade’s embarrassment.

“bladie, how would you feel if i were to make you my baby momma?” your voice cuts him out of the trance like state he was in. blinking his eyes a few times with a weak “huh?” as if he hadn’t heard you. with a quiet chuckle, you ask again. repeating the question to him slowly in case he was too pleasure driven.

baby momma? but that’s something that people refer to when women get pregnant right? were you referring to making him pregnant? but that was impossible! he was a man and men had different anatomy compared to women’s!

“i can use a few spells. you would have a female anatomy. but only if you wish to be my baby momma. i would take good care of you and the kids, we’d be together as a cute family. don’t you think we’d be a cute family, blade?” he could briefly hear you hum. but the rest of your words flew over his head since the female anatomy part.

a female anatomy. blade would have a pussy, a womb, cervix the perfect anatomy to get pregnant. he would be a cute baby momma. your baby momma. and he would carry your kids. a child who was half you and half him, a cute bundle of sunshine.

“please… please do. make me your baby momma. i wanna be your b-baby momma..!” blade nods frantically, not even bothering to think over the consequences too deeply. but the prospect of having your kids, of having you inside him got blade rubbing his thighs together, head spinning with all sorts of thoughts as his breathing becomes labored. you said you would take good care of him and the kids! he’ll be in good hands.

although a part of his brain was screaming at him, telling him to withdraw from the touch of your palm running over his stomach, changing his insides, blade could only sit there dumbly. a baby. a cute baby that you two made together. it would be so sweet, so cute. blade couldn’t wait any longer as he silences the logical part of his brain. all he wanted was you now. just you and nothing else.

the process didn’t take long. a few strokes of your hand and soothing whispers to his ear and it was done. or at least, from what you said. and oh fuck, was it true. when you tugged his pants and boxers off, what greeted both of your eyes was a slick pussy, dripping with arousal. seeing how you had successfully changed him, the priest lets out a weak whine, closing his legs to hide himself.

you didn’t seem to like that. clicking your teeth as your tail wraps around his leg, pulling his legs apart and allowing your hungry eyes to feast on his dripping cunt. blade couldn’t help his whine as the feeling of being so empty took place in his head. or was it inside his womb that he felt so empty?

“so sweet. you would look so cute with my cum dripping out of you” you mutter, running a finger up his wet pussy. the action got his hips twitching, trying to make you push your finger inside himself. tutting softly, reminding him to be patient, you slowly ease a finger in. oh gods, the stretch felt so good. so full and filled already despite it being just a single finger that was now slowly massaging his plush walls.

the soft whines and gasps coming out of blade turns into a moan as he throws his head back on the couch. long, navy hair spreading over the mattress as your fingers scissor him open. you would have expected him to be more… reclusive considering his usual act. perhaps you were wrong. the way that blade was throwing his head back, moaning without shame as his warm walls suck your fingers in greedily caused you to almost mistaken him for a virgin. or maybe he was just touch starved. poor thing.

cooing words of how he was doing good, how his gushy cunt was sucking in your fingers so prettily, you lean down to pepper kisses on his clit. long, forked tongue coming out momentarily to slip inside him with your fingers, constantly flicking his clit. the action caused to have made him oversensitive. strong, scarred thighs coming up to wrap around your head, a hand fisting at your locks as loud, pathetic whines of “c-can’t! feelss sho weird! [n-name], can’t—gyuuck! aanh aah♡︎!!” trails off into a high pitched whines as his hips jerk. legs clamping around your head in a vice grip, fisting at your locks tightly as his back arches off of the couch so prettily as he squirts in your mouth. ah right, in your own haze, you’ve forgotten and accidentally pushed your tongue in too far, hitting his g-spot.

well, that was fine. the cold priest sounded so cute and tasted delicious as he twitches under you. it would be fine to fuck him open with your tongue and prepare him thoroughly.

blade doesn’t know what to think anymore. was he even able to think? all he could do was to moan and shriek, trashing about on the bed as something deep and long slithers inside him. his cunt was being fucked open, wet sounds coming out as he gushes all over your mouth, tongue and chin. fluids dribbling down to your chin as you continue to force his legs open with your tail, arms wrapped around his waist and pulling him back into your mouth and fingers.

by the time you thought of him as prepped enough and pull your tongue and fingers out, blade could only weakly whine at the feeling of something pulling out of his warm insides. legs shaking, face flushed as dried tear stains cover his cheeks. his pretty red eyes looked so hazy, mind filled with cotton and statics. you haven’t even gotten to the main part yet!

blade feels something wrap around him. something bigger, warmer and gentle. clawed hands wrapping around his slender waist, pulling him against a massive frame. was this… was he on your real form right now?

tilting his head back to look at you, his hunch proves to be correct. no longer were you in your small human disguise. large, pale white figure with horns, tail and claw holding him in a safe cocoon in it’s embrace. despite having deep hatred against your kin, the priest couldn’t bring himself to hate you. instead, he oddly found your real form beautiful.

“huh…?” his thought gets cut off short when he feels something poke at his entrance. looking down, a sharp gasp escapes him. by the gods were you huge. girthy and long, thick with need and ready to fill him to the brim with your seeds. blade wasn’t sure if he could take such a large thing inside himself as he instinctively shut his legs close.

almost as if sensing his inner worries, you place a hand over his stomach, other hand spreading his legs wider to make it easier for you to slip in.

“don’t worry, pet. i’ll make sure it fits” your deeper, almost inhuman voice hums right beside his ear, sending shivers down his spine. although your words were soothing, the large tip of your cock pushing past his walls, opening his cunt wider was definitely not comforting. fuck, just the tip inside and blade was already thrashing about, shaking his head and stuttering out how he can’t fit it inside him.

“w-wait! w-won’t hhgh fit! ish too big! too bigtoobigtoobig—! m-my lo—oough! aanh! ish t-too fu-uck! big♡︎♡︎” the human squeals, cries, sobs and moans. loud lecherous noises coming from both his mouth and cunt. wet noises flooding the room alongside the low grunts and deep growls. you sounded inhumane, you felt inhumane but blade loved it all the more. the priest loved being spread open by your large cock, pushing past his hole, feeling his plushy walls and insides. ah, he could die happily filled to the brim like this.

finally, after long minutes of slowly easing yourself inside, you managed to fit your cock inside him. snug to the brim, tip kissing his cervix and making blade squeal. legs shaking and twitching, he came on your cock again at the feeling of your tip kissing his cervix. he saw that you were big but not this big! gods, he felt so damn full.

“so pretty, my mate. so full of me and i haven’t even fucked you properly yet” you grunt, deep, inhumane voice breathing by his ear and making him shake and twitch in your grasp like a sweet fawn. blade wouldn’t mind being a sacrificial lamb to you.

through tear stained eyes and blurry vision, he could make out the faint outline of your cock in his stomach. you were too big to the point your were causing a bulge inside him by just slipping your cock inside. how full would he feel after you have properly made him a baby momma? cunt weeping out a mixture of your cum, belly bulging so cutely. just the imagination of such action made blade buck his hips weakly. too fucked out to even utter a word.

feeling the pathetic excuse of movement of your cock, you let out a low laugh. tail wrapped around one of his legs, the other held open by your hand as you finally bounce him on your cock. slowly, slipping yourself in and out and yet the priest in your hand was sobbing as he blabbers deliriously about being fucked dumb on your cock. of having your babies inside his own womb. of being your sweet mate.

blade was a big guy. in human terms and physique wise, he was big. and yet in your lap, held open by your hands, back to your chest as he allows himself to be dumbed down on your girth made blade realize just how damn small he was compared to you. sure, he was big in human terms but compared to you, he was absolutely nothing. just a small hole for you to use. a fleshlight to be filled with your cum until you were satisfied. your baby momma to have his chest fondled and squeezed until his chest grows sore and heavy. milk leaking out it small globs from his sensitive pink nipples.

“my pet. my cute mate. my sweet other half. my adorable breeding bitch uhng… so fucking tight. so warm and tight like the cute little thing you are” blade could briefly hear you groan, heavy breaths falling on his neck, making him shiver at each breaths. making him cry and moan in a shrill voice like a girl each time your cock slid inside him. plunging deeper into parts he never knew before, grazing that one soft spot that made him shriek, tip hitting his cervix at each thrust. blade was so sure that it was bruised now. not that he minded it, the pain felt good to him.

“y-yours—! yours yours yours! your c-cute ma—aaanhg! aaanh haagh gyaaamf♡︎ y-your mate. your oouungh other half. y-your adorable♡︎ breeding bitch—!” blade’s mouth fell open in a silent scream, head throwing back to your shoulder when he felt your hand press on the bulge in his stomach. it felt good. so good that he immediately squirted on your cock again at the sheer pleasure the pressure brought.

but of course you wouldn’t stop. you would keep going, forcing his small body to bounce on your cock, occasionally tweaking his nipples, rolling his clit between your fingers. you were damn adamant on making him pregnant, breed him until you were damn sure he was knocked up.

he was yours. your human. your mate. your fated other half. your cute breeding bitch and you would be damned all over again if he ends up not getting pregnant by the time you’re done. blade was yours. no one else would ever take him away from you. no one. no one no one no one, no one else—

“AAANGH! M-MY LORD♡︎ c-cock giick! sho full…” the human shrieks and twitches in your grasp, legs weakly thrashing around as you finally cum deep inside him. the warmth of your seed spurting inside his gummy walls, painting his insides white causing blade to cum again. blade felt so full, the skin of his stomach stretching a bit to accommodate to the great amount of cum that was inside him. it felt so warm and sticky. messy, as it dribbles down your shaft, his small human body unfit to keep it all inside himself.

“my cute mate…” you purr softly, arms wrapping around your mate as he twitches and shakes. cheeks stained with old and new tears, jaws slack with drool dribbling down with his face as red as his eyes. he was yours now. blade was your human now. the weird priest was yours and no one would ever take him away from you.

“mine” with that final declaration, you placed a soft kiss to the crown of his head. he seemed to relax at the kiss, sinking against your chest as he black out. that was fine. you’ll make sure to breed him again once he wakes up.

[cheeseceli]

When you struggle to eat

Pairing: Ot8!skz × Gn!reader (individually)

Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, reactions

Request: reader thinking she eats "too much" and decides to eat way less for her body image, and how the skz boys would react to that.

Warnings: eating struggles will be discussed; reader has body image issues; mentions of food multiple times; use of petnames in Chan and Changbin's

Disclaimer: this was made with the purpose to comfort anyone who's going through a similar situation. If I made a mistake and made someone uncomfortable/aggravated the situation, please do tell me and I'll correct or delete this post immediately, whatever is preferred. Topics related to eating disorders will be discussed here, please don't read if that's something that triggers you.

Bang Chan - is ready to listen to all your worries

‌We all remember Chan's Room right?

‌He's ready to spend hours if needed just to understand what you're going through ‌and where your insecurities are coming from

‌At the same time, he will never judge you

‌So you know he's your safe place

Constantly checks up on you even if he's far away through texts and calls

And if there's someone who's aggravating the situation or making you insecure, you can bet he's gonna solve the situation himself

"Talk to me baby. What's going on in that mind of yours, hm?"

Lee Know - eats with you

Probably the first to realise something's off, considering food is almost his love language atp

Likes to have as many meals with you as possible

‌He usually makes a mountain of food in his plate, so you don't worry about the amount of food in yours

‌And he also runs errands with you

‌Especially those like buying food

‌You don't even gotta ask, he would be volunteering on the first opportunity

‌Also cooks for you, whatever you want

"Do you want to eat anything? I can cook"

Changbin - Hype man

‌Your personal hype man fr

‌Is ready to compliment you in absolutely everything

‌The best part is that you know that his compliments are always genuine

‌What do you mean you didn't like that trousers?? You looked fantastic in it! That shirt made you look even more gorgeous

‌He has known you for so long and still, he always finds something new to compliment you on

But even if after all the reassurance you want to change the way you look, he will be by your side to help you do it in a safe and healthy way

"You look perfect, baby. I promise. Actually, I still don't believe I managed to pull someone so beautiful like that"

Hyunjin - has all meals with you

‌And with that, I really mean all meals

‌Breakfast, lunch, dinner, you name it

‌Even if you can't really get out of your work place or your university, he's going there then

‌He just doesn't want you to be by yourself

‌He also always has something to say during those meals

‌News about their comeback, gossip at jyp, stories from his childhood...

He never fails to admire you a lot in those moments as well, never letting you forget how much he loves and appreciates you

‌He does that hoping it will distract you from the food, so you can be more at ease

"Have I ever told you about the time Kkami bit my ankle? I think I still have the scar."

Han - makes you feel beautiful

‌He truly doesn't understand how you don't think you're the most beautiful human being to ever set foot on this earth

‌In his eyes, you were born perfect

‌So, naturally, he makes it his mission to make you see yourself in his point of view

‌Compliments and adores you

‌Will make you feel beautiful, pretty, sexy, cute... Whatever you wanna be

‌Above all, he'll make you feel loved

"No matter what size, you'll always be my love. Don't forget that."

Felix - distracts you

‌With that, I mean that he tries to take your attention off food and body image related subjects

‌Before and after eating, he will always bring you along to activities where your mind can be turned off

‌So many fun dates!!

‌Even during the meals he'll have a similar idea to hyunjin and simply won't shut up

‌Most of his compliments don't involve around your body, so you really don't think about it

"I love this hairstyle of yours. It looks wonderful"

Seungmin - protects you

‌In a sense that no one even dares to comment on your looks/habits

Even if he isn't there with you

‌That because he made it very clear that everyone should watch their mouths around you

‌For as long as he's around you, he will do his best and more to protect you from harmful comment

Also tries to experiment a lot of different foods with you all the time, so you never feel like that's a burden or a bad thing

"Hey, have you heard about the new restaurant close to home? The food is peruvian. We could have dinner there tonight."

I.N - physically reassures you

‌He loves you and every single part of you, including your looks

I believe he was a bit lost in the beginning, not exactly sure on how to help you

‌But even if his words aren't exactly his biggest strength, he still wants to reassure you as much as he can

‌So he does that with his touch

‌Holding you on his lap, kissing all of your "imperfections" and tracing patterns in your skin

‌Anything that can ground, reassure and give you comfort at the same time

"Have I ever told you how perfect you are? I should tell you that more."

Masterlist | you'll probably like: when you're overworked (ateez comfort)

Thank you for reading<3 I hope this was able to help someone

» I won't put the taglist on this one as I don't want to tag anyone in something that can possibly trigger them «

Dividers by @/cafekitsune, images 1 2 3

Thank you so much for the beta readers: @duhgurl @beebee18 @applekiwi3202 @elqivxstxr @mrsunshine999 @msauthor

[eva-does-their-best]

Going from "I'm not one of those trans people who do x or y" to "I am so one of those and I should have not judged them and I am glad that I got rid of the normative judgemental attitude I used to have".

Going from "I'm just a lesbian so liking trans men is wrong i don't want to deny their manhood" to "My sexuality is weird and that is fine, I like who I like despite the theoretical implications of it and I am not denying anyone's identity because I like them for who they are and respect them no matter what".

Going from "I'm just a regular binary she/her woman" to "I'm a girl and a woman but my dissociation and life experiences also make me feel impersonal so I can use it/its and I'm not weird for it, i wouldn't even be weird if I had no justification either, I can even use doll pronouns because I like them and they make me feel warm and happy and that is what matters".

Going from "Ok so these are all the labels with their very clear definitions and meanings and everything else is internet quirky stuff" to "I literally would not know how to explain what you are and I won't force you to explain it if you don't want, I don't need to understand it to accept you, you are valid and loved. If you instead want to explain it to me I'll do my best to learn and defend it whenever I can".

Going from "I am so sad, frustrated, angry and in pain because I will never be or look cis" to "I actually don't like the cis normative look, I don't want to cispass, I like trans beauty but specifically I like me beauty, the one where I am still myself but a more me version of myself. The world constantly told me what I should aspire to be and look like and like and I was brainwashed for so long but now I've broken free and am free to fully love myself and everyone else in this world who ever thought they were weird or ugly because my eyes find so much beauty in everything and everyone!"

Going from "Ew furries" to "I don't want to make fun of people who deviate from the norm because that is exactly what happens to me and we should all be together or else we are treating ourselves as exceptions and exceptions are easily revoked, I will learn to love everyone against a brain poisoned with conservativism and "normality". I like rats I should make a rat fursona or smth it would be so cute it'd so represent me :3".

Going from "I am useless, lazy, falling behind, a disappointment" to "I am physically and mentally disabled, there have never been accomodations for me in any aspect of my life and the intersectionalities of gender, sexuality, economical situation, etc. have made my life extremely difficult, I forgive myself for both failing and for blaming myself, I will seek help and advocate for myself to the best of my abilities and I will respect my limits in this world that was not made for people like me".

Learning is hard, changing is scary, but it's mostly just your brain being a conservative for the sake of commodity, safety and self-preservation, sometimes you need to fight your brain in a war of attrition but when you finally win you'll be so much happier.

I am so much happier now, my world is bigger and brighter and I see everyone and everything with a new, beautiful light. I look back on how I was and how I thought and how the world works and it all looks so much worse and grey, I am not going back there, this new mind is my home now.

And the best part is that I know I will keep learning more and changing more and the world and this life will keep getting better and better🥰.

[car-o-line]

Hiii. The recent chapters of tbhk really got to me, and literally got me feeling empty like 😭😭.

Can I have dating hcs for the tbhk characters?

A.N: don’t you dare remind me😭 and yes you can, maybe

Dating Tbhk characters hcs

Nene Yashiro:

Stop she’s such a simp

Flabbergasted when you accepted her confession

Constantly questioning if she's good enough for you

”AH what if they hate me and are just dating me out of pity!!” - Nene

“I’m going to hit you” - Hanako

Hanako is so done with her constant blabbering

”O.M.G. Did you see the new shoes they were wearing, they’re so adorable I might just faint! Oh and also, they had a new phone case and it was sooooo pretty! It totally matches their style!”

Compliments you nonstop

Totally isn’t planning yalls wedding

Unfortunately, if you’re dating you might just get dragged into the whole apparition thingy

She doesn’t want to put you in danger of course!

She just wants someone to help her that’s not a ghost or a stupid earring boy😢

Hanako:

Met you through Nene or you summoned him

Makes you play cards with him

It depends on what you both face but sometimes he’ll just unintentionally get you into danger

Like- ���Oh y/n what are you doing here? I dragged you here? What!? I would never >:(!”

But don’t you worry because he’ll save ya

And then loses track of you, but he’s very focused while trying to get you out of danger!

Never and I mean never does he want you to meet Tsukasa

He’s worried Tsukasa might kill or injure you in any way

Plz listen to his warnings about Tsukasa, he’s begging you

Gives you cringe nicknames just to embarrass you

But he does it out of love!

Very touch starved because of him being alone for so long

So except what’s to come

Kou Minamoto:

Sweetest boyfriend ever and no one can change my mind

Oh you sent a good morning text? That’s cute. Here’s a five long paragraph about how happy Kou is to see you today

Of course, that’s later in the relationship

At first he’d be red just by looking at you

Ecstatic if Teru(platonically) likes you as well

Wants to show off his skills as an exorcist but fails miserably

Baking dates are a must

Especially if you know how to cook then you’d both do a bake off

It’d be like “nail it” except Tiara is the judge

#Tiara4President2025

Overall best of the best boyfriends out there

Mitsuba Sousuke:

Literally the definition of a tsundere

His love language is making fun of you🩷

But he means it fondly!

Clings to you like a leech 24/7🙄

Can and will take photos of you and keeps them in his pocket

Very, very, annoying when his attention needs are not met

“Why aren’t you around? Do you not love me? Do you not think I’m adorable?”

”I had to go home..the school day ended..?”

Okay maybe not like that but still

VERY disappointed when you aren’t around😔

But he loves you so it’s okay

Tsukasa Yugi:

Choosing him is crazy/hj

Blink twice if you need help😦

Very obviously obsessive and possessive(an unhealthy amount that is)

If you thought Hanako’s clinginess was bad erm..

He’ll literally does that thing where he wraps his whole body around your waist no matter how tall you are(like he did with Hanako)

It doesn’t matter how hard you try to shoo him off he’ll just stay stuck there

Like superglue or smth

Definitely will have a tea of muffin date with you, but that’s basically everything day so idk

Sakura needs at therapist at this point

#FreeSakura

Sometimes you’ll be minding your business and just see a kaku-joudai in the corner of you eye(thanks Tsukasa)

Sakura Nanamine:

She is thanking every lord or being that may or may not exist in the world of your existence

She loves you to death and you make her life so much easier

Very very relaxed/chill girlfriend

Treats you like royalty

“Oh you want a cup of tea? What flavor? Hm? Oh, I have 5743 kinds. Just name one I’ll bring it.”

You both have to deal with the hell of taking care of Tsukasa and Natsuhiko so it’s kind of like a bonding experience between the two of you

Her love language is acts of service, fight me on that😠

Nap dates, I’m sorry she just seems so sleepy all the time😭

Or muffin dates idk

Natsuhiko Hyuuga:

Honestly, you’re either both be stupid idiots in love or you’re just patient as hell

Talks about you all. The. Damn. Time.

”Your s/o got you flowers? Pff, well on March 22nd-”

You’re either Sakuras lifesaver or hellspawn

He's the boyfriend who if someone hits on you he’d perk up and agree with them

Down bad, but not in a Nene down bad yk

Calls you the weirdest crap

”Hellooooo my beautiful lightbulb”

”huh?”

He really believes that you’re the best person to ever exist

And anyone who says otherwise, he’ll get Tsukasa or smth

Idk he’s just a funny tall man

Teru Minamoto:

Either a very expected relationship or a unexpected if your popular or not

He’s a silly man so sometimes if he’s bored he’ll just call you to his office and just say hi, then send you back😐

Like sir????

Anyway he’s not afraid to use you as a barrier so girls leave him alone

Proud to have you as his s/o🥳

Makes sure to keep you tf away from anyyyy supernatural stuff

“Just play horror games or something.”

Sometimes you have to force him to sleep

Then he’ll tell you that you yourself need sleep??���(a hypocrite at his finest)

You are the new babysitter for Kou and Tiara, if he’s away ofc

They like you thankfully!!

Tiara forces you to play dolls with her tho

[lilac-sweet]

My interpretation of all the Solas endings:

I have been wanting to write about this topic for a while, since I’ve seen a lot of criticisms about Solas being out-of-character. IMO all the Solas endings are brilliantly written, and here’s why:

Solas breaks in 3 different ways:

1: Breaks his wisdom (Becomes Pride)

2: Breaks his pride (Becomes Wisdom)

3: Breaks his leash/conviction (Becomes more human)

1: Breaks his wisdom:

Solas has always walked the line between pride and wisdom: unlike pure spirits, he is able to fluctuate between them - just like Mythal with benevolence and retribution. This makes him more “human” and complex: he even instructs Cole in how being a “demon” and being a “spirit” essentially comes down to a choice we make ourselves.

So Solas is clearly aware of his own failings (just look at his name), but his greatest flaw is not changing in accordance with his own awareness. Due to his wisdom, he knows he is prideful, so he constantly asserts that he is NOT a god: this is as much to make others not worship him as the dread wolf, AND as a mantra to himself to keep him from becoming another Elgar’nan.

However, the limelight is an intoxicating thing, and with him choosing to carry the cross as the dread wolf, he invites that prideful corruption into his heart. It is difficult to truly believe you are not more special than everyone else when everyone else keep telling you how you totally are. As a spirit made man, he is still in danger of becoming what others view him as: he mirrors how you treat him in inquisiton, and he took the name of fen’harel (probably uttered by Elgar’nan) as a badge of pride.

We are told he treats everyone as disposable pawns in order to reach his goals, and we also see the truth of this in his memories. Some people argue that this is out of character for him, since he cares deeply for the elven people and their freedom. I don’t think these things are mutually exclusive: he simply rationalizes everything in order to reach his goal of helping the elves: even if that means sacrificing people

The thing that is so chilling about his character is that he was never meant to lead - he never WANTED to lead either: Mythal was the judge, he her advisor. Without her caring heart to guide his brilliant mind, he becomes callous and makes decisions based only on how best to “win”. This is not to say he does not have a heart, but that he believes he has to set it aside for the greater good: which is exactly where his reasons for leading the rebellion/ tearing down the veil and his methods for doing so contradict each other

He ends up losing sight of his initial reasons because the war makes him so calloused. I believe he shuts down emotionally and can not feel anything but apathy towards everyone when he puts on the mask of the dread wolf - as seen in how he treats the inquisitor vs Rook.

By making so many decisions with such dire consequences and not letting himself feel the weight of that (it would break him) he becomes separated from the “pawns” he uses and stops thinking of them as people. The world becomes a chessboard and a game to him, and that is exactly how a god would think.

That is also the reason he becomes so angry at Rook for saying he views himself as a god: he is so afraid of becoming that conceited, but at this point, the thing keeping him sane and keeping the dam of his pride sealed is the mantra: “I am not a god”. He KNOWS the truth of that mantra, but as this point he doesn’t FEEL it, because he has denied himself to feel anything for anyone in order to be able to get rid of them if logic dictates it.

Through his wisdom he understands why it is detrimental to believe yourself a god, and because of this he is in denial of his own feelings on the matter: he acts like a god, feels like a god, yet knows that he would become what he hates most by acknowledging it - that’s why he uses the mantra: it’s his last effort to stay somewhat grounded.

This brings me to the “I AM A GOD” ending. This is where the dam breaks: he finally allows himself to fully embody his mask; his pride; his demonic side.

By losing to Rook and co through force he is forced to admit to himself that he sees Rook and the world as inferior - he is the only one who can make it right and they are all children, who do not understand him (they shunned understanding when they used brutish force) because compared to them he is a GOD. He accepts pride and abandons the wisdom of staying grounded with the people - the people abandoned him so he abandons the people. He becomes what he has feared most becoming (it is also interesting that his biggest fear is to be alone - and a god stands alone in their arrogance).

He is truly lost to his demonic aspect in this ending and the dark colours of the ending picture reflect this. It is not difficult to argue this is the most tragic ending.

2: Breaks his pride:

Most schadenfreude ending in terms of outsmarting Fen’harel: proving to the world AND to Solas he is not a god and that he is not immune to be outsmarted by a mortal

It breaks Solas’ ego to be outsmarted, since his cleverness is his pride. It sets him free from his pride as it was the proof he so desperately needed: the people inhabiting this world are capable of being his equal and besting him at his own game. He is not better than them, or better put: his cleverness is not infallible. You could argue that a romanced Lavellan/ friendly inquisitor has already proven to be his equal in terms of wisdom, but then again, he has never truly been their adversary.

There is a maddening clarity to him when he finally says “and I am a fool”. I find the break of his pride to be heartbreaking: even though we are told it is a demon version of wisdom, we have seen Solas balancing both aspects - and his name also reflects how big a part of him it is. You could argue he becomes less of a person in both the Pride and Wisdom ending, but more demon/spirit. It is a loss of human complexity and he finally returns to the Fade more alike himself before he took on physical form.

Perhaps it can be argued this ending is the best one from Solas’ P.o.V without a romanced Lavellan: after all, she was the only thing that could “steal his attention from the Fade” or in other words: the only reason he would consider willingly taking physical form without being asked to.

3. Breaks his leash:

The third one is more complex (so bear with me here), because accepting your mistakes and growing in order to not repeat them requires human complexity. A thing Solas has avoided his entire physical existence. He is stuck in regret, yet would repeat all his mistakes again given the chance.

His avoidance of humanity is best seen in the contradiction of his disregard for lives and his conviction of freedom for the elves. His nature compels him to stand against tyranny and enslavement - to be a champion of freedom of choice and thought. Yet as a leader and a strategist he refuses to acknowledge that people matter in more ways than being pawns. He will grieve them later, yes, but his love for a person will never waver his decision if he deems their sacrifice the best course of action in the war - he will not even ask their consent (as seen with the Disruption spirit in the Fade memories).

He does not acknowledge that people are an intrinsic part of war and their lives matter in that equation. He struggles with his mistakes and the lives lost but he can not stop to think he might be going about it all wrong, because I imagine he fears if he factors in the emotional weight of his choices, it would impede his end goal, or worse: break him into indecision.

The emotional weight of the war and the lives lost, his mistakes and his position as a leader - not an advisor, are so against his spirit nature that he suppresses these issues instead of dealing with them like a person. He becomes prideful because he shuts other options out. His way is the only way.

He sees everything fall apart: everything he does: disaster is sure to follow: The blight, trapping the elven gods, the murder of Mythal (x2) - yet he can not stop. He does not know how. He is desperate for a way out - a way out of regret and feeling the weight of his mistakes - he pushes on because that is his only option lest he truly faces what he has done and the pointlessness of it all. All the lives he has sacrificed need to mean something - that is what he sacrificed them for. How can he face that he killed them and not have an excuse for doing so?

In the last ending he is forced to talk about these things: the Inquisitor tells him he is forgiven if he just stops. Yet this is not enough - he has sacrificed Mythal (and in ways himself) to reach his goal and it can not have been in vain. Here Mythal jumps in and helps him carry the weight of it all by shouldering it beside him. He finally lets himself feel the weight of it all and it breaks his conviction. Mythal releases him from her service: the leash of service to not only Mythal, but to her dreams and visions for the elven people; the very reason he was made manifest in the physical world, and so their very long and increasingly painful relationship comes to an end. He gets closure. He allows himself to grow and so he sets out to undo his mistakes: to sit with them (the blight) and truly do the best he can to heal what can be healed. It is the most difficult ending - a true apology: he has to pull a Bharv.

It is also the ending which was foreshadowed if you chose to let Varric help Cole in inquisition. I might get into this more in another post, but essentially he becomes more human by dealing with his shit and growing. It is a warm thought that the best ending is the ending Varric helped make way for.

It wraps up the story nicely as well: he enters the Fade a human, just like he entered the physical world a spirit, underlining the complexity of his character arc.

This is also the only ending in which he can end up with Lavellan: I think it is poetic that she can only join him if he becomes more human, less spirit; a mix of both Wisdom and Pride. He has to accept his humanity and the weight of a human heart - metaphorically, he has to make the choice to finally enter the physical world and all of its complexities of his own volition: and there he finds her waiting.

[fishnapple]

What can bring true satisfaction to your heart?

Let's end this year by hearing what your heart yearns for. And also trying out my new AAB (Animal Advisory Board) set for divination ✨️

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

ORANGE

On the surface level, what feels like satisfaction for you is recognition for your hard work. You feel a sense of lack when it comes to your material possessions, that that sense of lack can affect your sense of self greatly. You could feel that the more you have, the more confident and safe you are, you find safety in a familiar physical world. Working, earning money, and then being recognised for your effort can elevate your "worth" in this world, or so you believe. And being worthy is the solid proof of existence and meaning. But you will soon find that in chasing success and recognition, you risk burning out and losing your vitality, your jest for life. Being too focused on a goal, a task can narrow your perspective and make you feel like life is just a race, a competition. You want to show your best, to be known as the most hard working person, the one who contributes the most, the one who can take on any tasks without fear, the one who shines the brightest. Life seems like a stage where you have to perform constantly, even when you're alone, your actions are being observed by an invisible audience.

But your inner self disagrees with that approach, and it will demand a change from you. You can't keep running in "the race" forever because there's simply no race for you to run, just a life for you to be in and to live. A part of you is sleeping, latent inspirations are trapped inside without the means to be expressed. It's quite contradictory, on the outside, you look so busy and active, always doing something, but on the inside, the energy is stagnant and inactive. This feeling will continue to pile up until you can't take it anymore and want to burst out, to take off. The feeling of true freedom, of flying for the first time will open up a floodgate inside you, you will begin to nurture a different perspective, you will want to slow down your run and look around, suddenly you will find so many interesting things around you that you haven't noticed before.

By being free, you will also have a different view on relationships. Your heart yearns for freedom, freedom to be yourself, and freedom to love. You will want to bond deeply with people, to seek comfort in the emotional sense, not in the physical sense anymore. You seek true understanding, of yourself, of the other person and the world you live in. Deep connections can bring the most satisfaction, something that you might have been oblivious to up until now. You won't seek recognition from the general crowd anymore, you will seek the transparency of being seen completely by a loved one.

WHITE

For this group, I see a lot of images about predators attacking prey. This can mean that you are having contradictory thoughts and feelings inside yourself, like an inner critic, always watching and judging your every wish and action. This creates lots of unnecessary fears in you, you're held prisoner by your own mind. You desire many different things, or said in a different way, many different things can bring you satisfaction, but they can be at odds with each other. The solution for you is to go ahead and do them anyway, no matter how much your mind protest or try to "talk" you out of it, which sometimes can be in a really aggressive way. Your mind can create visions of people ridicule or criticise you for your decisions. What you need to do is triumph over those visions, shoo them away, and just do what you instinctively feel drawn to do and then see for yourself, with you own eyes, the actual outcome, only then will you have solid "proof" to chase away those intrusive thoughts in your mind. For you, getting over your myriad fears will be your biggest achievement and satisfaction. For every victory over your fear, no matter how small, you deserve to get a pat on your back. Be gentle with yourself, but firm enough to give yourself a chance to grow.

About your many desires, one is about receiving and giving love. You might just focus on romance and dating right now, without much serious thought about a long-term commitment and building a family with someone. But in the future, when you allow yourself to grow more and gain new perspectives, the thought of commitment will naturally arise in you. You won't just desire love and affection alone, you also desire a place to call home, a place where someone will be there to welcome you. You will want to nurture someone, and be nurtured back, work for the connection, and see your effort grow into a deep bond. You're working hard right now, but mostly to build your own foundation, later in life, you will want to work hard to build that foundation with another person. Your heart will flourish in the nurturing environment of a steady relationship.

For now, just focus your energy on getting to know yourself, every nook and cranny. Come to your rescue when your mind begins to nag, especially when you want to rest and contemplate hidden things behind the veil of mundane life. Use your resting time to let your mind explore foreign subjects, coax it gently when it tries to resist learning new things. The more you explore, the more your mind will soar, the more your heart will feel tranquil and happy.

PINK

Does the question of whether the person you're attracted to romantically can also be your friend ever cross your mind? Or the question of whether that person can truly connect with you on a mental level? I see the people who chose this group are ardent lovers. The kind that would focus their all on a connection, passionate and gripping. You might be the person who loves falling in love, the feeling of romance and relationships brings you great joy. But the pitfall here is that you tend to idealise the other person and the connection to the point of overlooking some glaring incompatibilities. On a surface level, a person might seem fun and physically ideal to be your partner, but let some time pass and look closer, you will find that you don't really connect on a more deeper level. A telling sign would be that conversations are lacklustre, there's an uncomfortable silence between you, the subjects of the conversation are superficial. In the long run, this can create dissatisfaction in the relationship.

What you might not realise is that a deep bond, especially forged over many conversations, is essential to your feeling of overall happiness about life. Friendship matters, even love should be built based upon friendship. Having many people who you can call friends is actually more satisfying than having many lovers, friends who come from many walks of life, from all around the world. Having a group of close friends who can go on adventures with you, who can nurture you, who can build you up, who can make your mind buzzing, who can be your family, that's what brings true satisfaction to your heart.

Can you see the stag nipping at a tree while the peacock is facing the opposite direction? I think right now, the way you express yourself can be like a form of reaction to the specific person whom you're interacting with, rather than just communicating who you are in general. In conversations, you might try to act more cool, showing the best of yourself in order to build a favourable image, which is what all of us do to some degrees, consciously or not. But this shape-shifting energy can be detrimental to really connect with the other person. Instead of letting the other person provide you with 'nutrition' for your mind and heart, you're busy impressing them. This can happen in all your interactions, whether with strangers, acquaintances, friends, family, lovers. You should take a more relaxed approach, allowing the words to seep into you leisurely, building friendship as if growing a tree, then you will have a flourished heart.

GREEN

The word 'Success' has a lot of meanings to you, and all meanings have weight that defines your life. For you, being successful doesn't have to be about earning lots of money of being famous, though that is a part of the 'Success' that you pursue, it's not all. You want to leave behind your legacies, the proof that you exist, the proof that you have lived hard and well, that your life has meaning.

Throughout your life, you will encounter various stumbling blocks that require you to reinvent yourself, like ascending a stairway, each step bring your higher, closer to your ideals. You're willing to change yourself, to bring about a complete overhaul, allow yourself to play various roles, don many masks, life is a big stage and you're a magician, a jester or a seller, who always has something to dazzle and sell to the audience. This 'performance' is not fake or disingenuous at all, it's what you're born to do, to achieve prestige and finally reach the top of the stairway.

You have a core that's very malleable and agile, constantly moving, though it can help you be flexible and move through situations with ease, it can create an inner confusion. You feel like you have to be at all places, here and there, never settle down, forever swimming, nothing can hold you down and keep you in one place for long. This fuels your desire to find an anchor in the physical world. To know what you've done, what you've achieved, where you need to go. You need external structure and stability so that your internal spirit can swim freely. You can move a lot, but you need to feel a sense of home wherever you're. And that's not easy to achieve. But you have the knack to connect instantly with people, you can make the most distant stranger your friend in no time. The more people surround you, the safer you feel. Community and sense of camaraderie soothe you nomad heart. As long as you have people around you, everywhere can be your home.

And in that hope will you work your magic, working tirelessly to build your foundation. Even though your spirit is a nomad, constantly moving, you have trouble letting go of things and people, gradually, the stuff you pack with you gets more and more heavy, slowing you down. The challenge for you is to learn when to let go, to travel light. What your heart truly wants is the feeling of ascending the ladder, of knowing that you've done something meaningful and left a mark, of giving away the fruits of your labour, not the feeling of possessing and holding on to as many things as possible.

[dontbesoweirdkira]

What if... Batsis with a oral fixation ⁉️

Not in a kinky way but like a stimming way, I have autism irl and I chew and bite on stuff to help get some feelings I'm not a fan of :P

Also I bite people I trust cuz Ik they won't mind or rlly judge me for it so what if batsis bites Grayson cuz she trusts him or somethin 🤯⁉️

A/N: So babes...i'm sorry this took a while. I was out of it for a while...I cannot stop biting my loved ones either...it's rough out here, really.

Characters: Dick, Tim, and Jason

Masterlist

Requests: always open

Dick wouldn't really mind it, I don't think?

Maybe at first he's like..."what ya got there..?" and it's just a whole chunk of his arm in your mouth.

He has a look of both concern and amusement on his face because well...this is a first.. But if he's aware of your usual oral stims and how you are constantly chewing or biting at something, I think he wouldn't question it further. It's easy to put two and two together, y'know.

But the fact that you only do it to him and maybe to the other siblings is enough for him to be okay with it. It makes Dick feel extremely special and dare I say honored to be a human chew toy. Dick adores anything that you do, especially if that thing is specifically because you trust him.

I think it'd be super cute having you hold onto his arm while ya'll are chilling on the couch. Maybe watching a scary movie, and because you're getting stressed so the entire time you are just gnawing on his bicep...poor guy. Lol but he actually doesn't even notice it after a while of you constantly doing it.

Like he's chatting with Babs and here comes your evil little teeth all ready to sink into his skin.

The only time I think he's be against it if he's super sweaty and gross or is trying to concentrate on something important....otherwise,,go ham.

But would I be crazy if I say his hair when it's long is perfectly chew-able.... like pleassseeeeee rachellll give it to meeee

I can imagine him giving you some of his bracelets to chew on. I imagine he wears these string bracelets and they are perfect chewing material.

*you have almost bit his entire finger off...*

Jason would be a bit turned off from it.

He's not particularly keen on you biting him. It doesn't feel good, it maybe even a bit irritating or stressful for him. This is not to say he thinks that your fixation needs to go but he'd rather you do it to anyone else instead.

Maybe he'll give you one of his old jackets for you to chew on. it's perfect, he got it cleaned and it has tons of tabs and buckles for you to chew. That way you can still have something of his to fixate on without necessarily bothering him. It does kind of warms his heart when you choose his items to stim with tho. It's assuring that he's still able to help ground you even if it's in a different way....

Tim..does not care. Like the most he does is just give you a strange look, then goes back to whatever he was doing prior.

You aren't hurting him, nor is he irritated so who is he to force you to stop. It's clear that you are overwhelmed and needs something that'll help you make it through soo have fun, sis.

He never directly addresses it either. It's just a thing that he accepts.

Maybe if you are chewing on the him of his shirt and your saliva is causing it to get rather wet and slightly uncomfortable, he'll just go change the shirt and give it to continue doing your stimming with.

I feel like Tim just had random chew-able trinkets around his room too, maybe even keeps tough gummies or lollipops around as an alternative for you.

[astrxbtchs]

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ Astrology Observations II ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

✺ Pisces Mars are experts at ghosting. You guys take action in such an elusive way because you hate confrontation, or just unnecessary drama. If y’all are annoyed or feeling a way about something you don’t say anything right away and you only react when things boil over into the point where you can’t control it anymore and you explode. Then you immediately bad for getting so angry. Just work on communicating how you feel, when you feel it, sometimes other people won’t know how you feel until you express it.

✺ Mars in the 1st house synastry isn’t always as sexy and hot as people think it is. The mars person’s attraction could be so strong for the house that they come off too strong which can completely turn off the house person. (If there isn’t any other compatible synastry)

✺ The sign in your second house is usually the sign, or ones with those placements, that you feel the most possessive over.

✺ Also, the second house can explain your appetite and how you like to eat. For example, Sag risings having Capricorn in the 2nd house prefer home cooked meals over fast food. They are very strict as to what they put in their body and they won't eat just anybody's food.

✺ As of the other hand, Scorpio risings having Sag in the 2nd house go from extremes where they are either eating really healthy or just absolutely terrible. They love fast food and can tend to over indulge in these pleasures.

✺ In my opinion, 4th house synastry feels more like family or a really close friend than anything romantic (mostly just Sun and Moon) It feels almost weird to cross that line, like if you do things would turn awkward. OR if it is a romantic connection the planet person may have more feelings than the house person does.

✺ I will stand by this but 6th house synastry is SOOOO underrated!!! If you are looking for a long-term relationship with someone having personal planets here will really help the relationship last. Especially when Sun is there it’s almost like there is a never a dull moment and each and every day you guys are never get bored of one another. Venus here it’s like you guys find pleasure doing the small things together the most. You would even be happy doing things like grocery shopping with them, stopping by at your job to give you flowers, and makes living together very easy. Mars in ones 6th house is sending them to do things, and them not minding at all, they love to make you happy by doing things for you.

I do feel like moon in 6th house synastry would be a bit aggravating. Feeling like the person would rather intellectualize and nitpick your emotions rather than being the one to help you feel them. Almost feels as if you are being judged for any emotion you show. It might be annoying feeling like someone is constantly questioning you about how they feel or feeling like you constantly have to take on the baggage of what the other person is going through.

✺ It’s not said enough but Capricorn placements, especially mercury and Sun, are the most hilarious people ever. Their dry sense of humor and how sarcastic they are is UNMATCHED. They will say the things that other people are scared to say and you can’t help but to laugh. They have that dark humor that no other sign can replicate. It’s not everyone’s cup of tea but they are so real!

✺ Pisces Mars and Pisces rising’s are the ones who are attracted to people that u would least expect them to be with. Or they are attracted to the “bad boy” or the one people tell them to stay away from

✺ Sag rising don’t age! No matter how old they are they have this glow about them and always look so youthful.

✺ Aquarius and Sag Venus’ really don’t have a type. They just love someone who makes them happy and they can go adventures with . These people are attracted to cerebral people and anyone who can really expand their mind. You often hear these people say “I like who I like” or “I just love, love”. This could change if there is some Capricorn energy in the chart which could make someone value a more traditional approach to this fun loving placement.

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ Thank you guys for making it to the end of my post! ♥️if you have any experience with any of these placements/synastry above please comment down below your experience! I would love to hear you guys’ feed back. Please keep in mind these are just my personal opinions take everything with a grain of salt. Love youusss💋 ♡

[gelarshiesprofruitboarder]

lmao imagine ,,,,, loserrr 🫵🫵🤣🤣 /j

We need to explode @gelarshiesprofruitboarder they got me fixated on rupauls drag race too

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for telling my friend that I did not care it made her upset about some of the things I did with my OCs?

I (18F) made OCs with my friends: Kayla (18F), Bell (18F), and Kia (18F). Kayla said that she had a system that had fictives in it. I didn't really understand what she meant by that, but I wasn't going to judge. At least for a little while. We added a discord bot that would help Kayla be able to talk through her different identities in the server. But it got weird.

One day I saw her talking as if she was one of my ocs (I'll dub Chi for this post) and I felt weirded out by that. Kayla then announced that Chi was part of her system. She goes on about how Chi had suddenly appeared in her system and it took 2 days before her other identities accepted her as part of them.

I said that it was weird that Kayla put one of my ocs in her system, but she insisted she wasn't doing it on purpose. Bell and Kia asked me to just knock it off and respect Kayla because "people with systems can't control it when their system changes." I said that I don't like that she has Chi in her system and that Chi was my OC. This felt like someone was stealing my OC from me. Kayla got upset about that and said "you're upsetting everyone in my system by saying Chi doesn't belong there. We have all accepted her and hearing you reject her makes us all upset. Please apologize."

I refused to. Then I remembered that I had shared all of Chi's info in my own personal channel. The others can view it, but they can't type in it. So I deleted everything about Chi in there and left a note that Chi was being revised. That sent Kayla into a panic. "Stop! You can't!" She kept saying and "What did you do?" over and over again. I simply said that I was making changes to Chi. Kayla freaked out more over that and said that it was making her system distressed and that I needed to stop. I told her that I already set my mind to it.

Later I reposted Chi's info with some changes. Changed her from being a kind and caring person to cruel and dismissive. I also made it so that she had a criminal history and had murdered people before. She has trouble making friends and thinks everyone is constantly out to get her. To be honest, I like this version of her more than her previous incarnation.

Kayla did not like this and had a meltdown. She started screaming "what did you do?! What did you do?! What did you do to Chi?!" In the voice call we were having with Bell and Kia. She started begging me to change her back because Chi stopped responding in her system and has vanished. And the rest of her identities were in a panic now. She said "Murderer. You killed her. You killed Chi. For us, this feels like someone just died. A part of us is missing. We feel incomplete now. Please fix this. BRING HER BACK! CHANGE HER BACK! MURDERER! MURDERER! YOU'RE A MURDERER!"

I told her that I refused to change her back and this was the new Chi. This would be how Chi will be from now on no matter what people said because "My OC, my rules."

Kayla logged off of discord after calling me an asshole. Even Bell and Kia are siding with her saying that I took it too far. They also said I was an asshole for murdering a part of Kayla's like that. I said that Chi was not Kayla's to control, and that only I should get a say in what is done with Chi. They called me an asshole for not considering Kayla and her system's feelings right now because they were all mourning.

I don't think I did anything wrong, but maybe I should apologize. I would still refuse to change Chi back to what she was before though. So it would just be a half apology just to make her happy.

AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[jackabbotsfakeleg]

As Above, So Below I Chapter 4- Souvenir

Synopsis: You start the nightshift with Jack Abbot, and make good on that arrangement of yours, but not before learning just how much comfort you both find in darkness Pairing: Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x Fem!Reader and Jack Abbot x Fem!Reader   Word count: 4k Warnings: Discussion of mental illness, suicide attempt, self-harm, mania, trauma, the existential dread of being alive, our favorite sad boys, dark humor, and some trauma. Some explicit references. 18+, MDNI  A/N: This is the sad boy Jack Abbot intro and next chapter will be the explicit Jack Abbot smutfest. Work has been mentally exhausting this week, but if you want to get sad deep in your bones, read this while listening to “Souvenir” by Boygenius, and “Go Home” by Julien Baker. Thank you for reading, I appreciate every single one of you.  Chapter 3 I Chapter 5

Chapter 4: Souvenir

Pulling thorns out of my palm Work a midnight surgery When you cut a hole into my skull Do you hate what you see like I do?

"You should stay."  Robby extends the offer, words attached to an arm around your waist  lips to your collarbone, and the promise to make you breakfast.  Pancakes and coffee

“Next time.” You called an Uber, Pressed a kiss quickly to the corner of his mouth as he lingered in the doorway, and promised to text him that you got home safe. The decision to leave was fully rooted in fear. Not the fear that you’d want more, or that he’d change his mind. But the fear that if he looked at you long enough You’d tell him everything that makes it hard for you to be back here.

Didn’t get murdered by my uber driver. 

Good. Wish you would have stayed.

Gotta ice my back.

Don’t even start.

Don’t miss me too much.

Too late. 

The transition to the nightshift a few days later confirmed what you had known all along: This must be the place. A dark sense of humor; a group of misfits who prefer the moon over the sun; and a fast-paced, nothing-is-off-limits vibe.

You could have guessed, judging by the fact that John Shen was particularly fond of it. And you had been close friends for years. He had been shaped by 3am study sessions that ended in white castle burgers for breakfast, never met an emo night at Brillobox he didn't get dressed up for, and constantly argued about Kid A being a better Radiohead record than OK Computer. He was the poster-child for millennial purgatory - forced to exist in between Gen X and Gen Z, shoulder all the blame, and somehow look nonplussed while doing it. He had been in medical school at the same time you were doing your graduate program, lived in an apartment blocks from you, and had made it a point to be the guinea pig for any psychological assessment you needed to practice. He would volunteer in hopes that he could finally convince his conservative parents that he wasn't mentally ill for listening to My Chemical Romance, and he hoped that the assessments could "provide him papers" to explain his completely unbothered millennial personality. Neither of those two things happened, but he did make for a good wingman who could stitch up the gash in your knee after drunkenly parkouring over a fire hydrant in the Strip District. You kept in touch over the years, through trauma dumping and memes. He truly was one of the perks of returning--an actual no-bullshit platonic friend. 

On the day you started nights, he waited for you outside of the hospital with another mystery Dunkin’, he of all people appreciating the establishment for what it was – an absolute dumpster fire.

"My wife!" He calls out to you, in a perfect Borat voice, arms outstretched, "You ready for nights?" "I'm so glad to see you, even if I still cannot imagine you as an attending." you graciously take the Dunkin from his hand, your finger flipping the badge on his chest, "most of my mismatched scars are from your shitty stitch-jobs"  "First of all, how dare you" He laughs, swatting your hand away "you told me I did a great job. And second, I was drunk, and a medical student." “I really have missed you.” You smile, “And I really am looking forward to the change in scenery.” “The day shift is all suits and stiffs, and we’re absolutely unhinged.” "My kind of crowd. Any hot goss I should know?" You poke an elbow into his side, "Parker Ellis is our ride or die, and I’m still trying to assert dominance with Abbot, so if you see me giving him the cold shoulder, it's because I just want him to love and respect me."

Ellis was already at the nurses’ station when you both arrive, waiting on the day shift hand-off. You set your things down in your office before making your way back to the desk. “A welcome speech for our newest member?” Shen tips his drink towards Ellis. "Always remember the third rule of fight club," Ellis smiles, "just try your best and have fun." "I thought the third rule was that if it was your turn to bring snacks, bring enough for everyone" You correct her, “just happy to be here.” "I wouldn't jinx yourself" she adds, shaking her head, "the behavioral health beds are the star of the show on nights." "Honestly, I never met a five point bed restraint I didn't love" You shrug, "makes me nostalgic for prison." "Where's Abbot?" Shen asks "Haven’t seen him, but you know him, he'll probably just apparate out of a cauldron of bats." Ellis shrugs, rolling her eyes, "Still waiting on the hand off from Robby, but he's been swamped all day."

"Hey, one of you psych?" the charge nurse turns towards the three of you, phone to her ear, "Sounds like there's a patient on the roof.”

"Seriously?" your eyes wide, "how the fuck did a patient get on the roof?" You make your way towards the elevator. “Night shift starting off strong” Shen calls out after you ,”My money’s on Myrna” “Don’t worry she won’t jump” Ellis adds, like it’s comforting, “she just likes the wind in her hair.”

The elevator only goes so far before you’re forced to take the stairs. Three flights; 6 steps a piece. By the time you get to the door to the roof, you’re out of breath, a bolt of lightning shooting down your leg with each step.

You had seen someone jump one time.  The descent of a body from a bridge. You hadn’t gotten there in time,  hadn’t said the right thing,  hadn’t reached out quick enough to stop them. You'll never forget it.  and you still haven't found a way to squash the swell of emotions when you're reminded of it, Even now, tears burn your eyes as you shoulder the door to the roof open.

You expect to see something reminiscent of that traumatic memory a chance to make it right;  A do over;  a success story. And instead, you’re met with silence, the cool air against your cheeks, and Jack Abbot, standing too close to the edge.

“Oh, for fucks’ sake, this your idea of a joke?” You’re out of breath and annoyed. “Took you long enough” He doesn’t bother turning around to look at you, “although your bedside manner could use some work.”  “This isn’t funny,” he hears it in your voice, and you quickly wipe your eyes on the back of your hand. 

When he turns to face you, his expression has changed from amusement of landing a solid joke on your first night, to concern.

“Fuck, are you crying?” 

“You jumping or what?" you ask moving closer to him, so that you’re shoulder to shoulder, "no time like the present."

"Well, it's not funny anymore if you're going to cry."

"I'm not crying" 

"riiiigghhhtt" it's drawn out in disbelief

"I just have 'losing a patient to jumping off a roof' in my eye." you hit him in the shoulder, "thought maybe I’d get a do-over."

"ahh" he nods, "well fuck, I really fumbled that one. thought maybe I could get a laugh out of you, maybe a sarcastic plea not to do it, you know, some theatrics."

"Sorry I ruined your fun." 

"Sorry I made you cry."

"You didn't make me cry," You correct him, "and if you tell anyone that you did, I will absolutely make you cry in front of everyone downstairs."

"Promise?" he smirks, "I could use some public humiliation to keep me humble."

"Of course you could, Doctor Abbot," you shake your head, rolling your eyes, "With your prolonged eye contact and minimal startle response, I bet you haven’t been humbled in a while."

"And? That a problem?” "I find it endearing" you nod, turning on your heel to walk back towards the door, "I will see you downstairs after you're done brooding up here"

"Hey Wheeler?" He calls back to you, “You still good on our arrangement? It is nights after all"

"Come to my office and find out?" 

"We said not at work" he turns around to face you, eyes dark, voice low.

"You said not to let anyone at work find out," you correct him, smile on your face, opening the door, “I can be quiet.”

“With that mouth? Yeah, right.” he shakes his head

You close the door behind you and head back downstairs towards the elevator.

“I was just looking for you,” The elevator opens and Robby’s standing inside, “Jack up there?”

“Yes, just convinced him not to jump” You attempt to make a joke, wincing when you step inside.

“You okay?” He holds the door open.

“Yeah,” you lean your head back against the wall of the elevator, “rushed up here because a nurse said a patient was up here. I just need a minute.”

“You want me to take a look at it?” He steps back inside the elevator when you shake your head ‘no,’ the door closing behind him, and reaches out to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, “at least let me take a look at you.”

“You know the rules” You remind him, his face inches from yours.

“Fine,” he huffs, taking a step back from you, “I’ll be good.”

The elevator doors open again to reveal Abbot, standing with his arms folded across his chest.

“Really, Robinavitch?” He steps inside the elevator, in between the two of you, “not cool man.”

“I just happened to be in the elevator” Robby replies, hands up in front of him like he’s innocent, “she’s all yours.”

“I just love being objectified at 7pm in the evening, “you speak up, smirking

“I bet you fucking do” Abbot shakes his head, turning to Robby, “Was she this mouthy on day shift?”

“Worse” Robby adds, shrugging, “offered to blow me in her office”

“’Atta girl” Abbot looks to you and you roll your eyes, “I’ll be by for mine around 2am.” 

The elevator doors open before you’re able to get a word in, the two of them exiting to find the rest of the night shift for hand off.  You contemplate going after them, but instead, you watch the shift change play out, taking in the inside jokes between attendings and residents, trying to get a read on what you’ve gotten yourself into.

Ellis wasn’t lying when she said the behavioral health beds were the star of the show on nights.

The first consult came in less than an hour after your shift started

A 17-year-old boy, with a 7-inch laceration from wrist to elbow, reopened from over a week ago, deep enough to need stitches but not deep enough to accomplish his goal. He never stopped crying, not after the pain medications kicked in, not after his parents told him they loved him, not after his medications were adjusted, and not after you sat with him for over an hour reminding him that progress was not linear, and that engagement in self-harm is not a badge of weakness or failure.

The second consult came in fifteen minutes after that – a man initially thought to be unhoused, running naked through Schenley Park.

“Surprisingly not methamphetamines,” Abbot had noted, as you waited in the doorway, watching security staff strap him down into five-point restraints. He fought the entire way, the brute strength of mania alive and well, and you only got spit on once. Once he was down and treated to a cocktail of Haldol and Ativan, he informed you that he was Jesus Christ reincarnated and earned himself a ticket upstairs to the inpatient hospitalization, albeit not as far upstairs as he was hoping.

By the time the third, fourth, and fifth consults rolled around, you were on a first name basis with the security staff and night nurses. It was fast-paced but not unmanageable, nostalgic of the crisis contacts you were used to in prison, but with more reasonable and less manipulative patients. Here, the patients weren’t calling you nine kinds of bitch as you watch them insert a pen into their urethra just to get a trip to the hospital and some opiates. For the first time, since you left, it felt like you were actually addressing mental health concerns rather than attempting to manage behavior for secondary gain.

“You’re clearing psych beds faster than I can fill them,” Abbot barely looks up from the note he’s charting

“Just trying to up that patient satisfaction score,” You reply, “Not sure if any of them are lucid enough to fill out the survey but it’s the thought that counts.”

“Might just save my ass from another impromptu lecture from Gloria.” Abbot replies, a smile spreading across his face

“Is that a thank you?” You ask, raising an eyebrow, “wouldn’t hurt to hear you say it.”

“Thank you Doctor Wheeler” it’s drawn out and a little bit patronizing, but you’ll take the compliment.

You spend the next several hours rounding on the patients on the behavioral health unit, introducing yourself to the nursing staff and psychiatry resident covering nights—the medications to your therapy, and taking stock of the mental health resources on the unit. Everything is outdated, testing instruments, books—you name it, it’s likely from the 1980’s. And all of it was yours to manage, including the grant applications for research projects and the applications for additional budgeting for the fiscal year that had been piling up on your desk. 

It’s nearly 5am when you’re interrupted by Jack entering your office without knocking. He sets down a sandwich on your desk before taking a seat on your couch. You look up from the note you’re working on and watch him. He looks tired, more disheveled than he did on the roof, but still manages to crack a smile the longer you look at him.

“Now who’s got the prolonged eye contact” He chuckles, nodding to the sandwich on your desk, “Have you eaten?”

“I was able to eat one solitary granola bar, while the guy in four was getting strapped down.” You nod, “what did you bring me?”

“A grilled cheese” He replies, a smug look on his face, clearly pleased with himself, “Had to fight a nurse for that, by the way. Figured we could share it.”

“I’m honored,” you split the sandwich, handing him the other half, “Rough night out there?”

“Fuck yeah” he nods, looking down at his hands, “feels like we were drowning there for a minute. And now I’m taking a 20-minute break while the dust settles.”

“A well-deserved twenty minutes” You agree, standing up to shut the blinds of your office, trying to block some of the fluorescent light out of your office, switching on your desk lamp, “better?”

“Perfect” He nods, a smirk appearing, “Now, about that conversation in the elevator.”

“Sorry, all the blow job appointments are 30 minutes” You shrug, leaning against the door, “just missed the window.”

“Bummer” he shakes his head, standing up, “Although, you were the one who said come to your office and find out”

“I did say that” you acknowledge, watching him close the space between you, eyes locked on yours the whole way, “Although you questioned my ability to be quiet”

“You don’t strike me as the quiet type.” his face inches from yours, his hands on either side of your head on the door.

Got him right where you want him, eyes on you, waiting for your next move.

Time to humble the man in front of you.

“Ohhh Jack” you moan, just loud enough that anyone walking by can probably hear you, “Just like that” He clamps his hand over your mouth, pushing your head against the door, a soft thud, his eyes wide.

“Jesus Christ” he whispers through gritted teeth, “are you fucking insane?”

You shake your head against his hand, raising an eyebrow when he doesn’t immediately uncover your mouth.

“You gonna be good if I let go?” He asks, only uncovering your mouth after you nod. 

“That’s what you get” You poke your finger against his chest, “For making me run to the roof.”

The alarm on his watch beeps and he sighs in frustration –his 20 minutes are up 

“Don’t ruin this” He shakes his head, the tiniest hint of a smile on his lips, “You want to get breakfast after work and then you can come to my place and be as loud as you want?”

“Perfect.” You duck under his arm, and open the door, “Pamela’s?”

“Fine, but the original location, not the shitty Oakland location.” He nods, exiting your office and back into the arms of the night shift. 

You make it through the last two hours and it feels like you’ve been hit by a truck. The change in sleep-wake cycles has not been kind and while you’re not necessarily physically tired, your brain feels like oatmeal. The handoff of information to the psychology and psychiatry residents is the last thing on your to-do list, and after you rattle off the last of the orders and updates, you make your way outside, away from the noise. Shen and Ellis are the first to head out, both offering a high-five to you for surviving your first night shift. Jack is the last out, keys in his hand as he spots you.

“You ready?” He asks, “I’ll drive.”

You accept his offer and follow him to his car.

Pamela’s Diner is a Pittsburgh tradition—an absolute legend. Sure, they’ve got the same shit as every other restaurant, but if you’re trying to do it right, there is only one right order: Stuffed strawberry hotcakes and lyonnaise potatoes. It’s cash only, the grill looks like it probably has never been cleaned, and it slaps every. fucking. Time.

Abbot is more than happy to oblige your millennial personality trait of ordering ahead, and your food is ready by the time you two leave work and cross the 16th Street Bridge into the Strip District. You wouldn’t have pegged him --the attending with an affinity for isolation and darkness, as someone who would live here, one of the busiest neighborhoods in the city.

His apartment is similar to Robby’s--an open concept with natural light. There's one huge window in the living room overlooking the river, revealing a perfect view and the ability to maintain privacy. The decorations are minimal, aside from a few well-placed, and somewhat hidden military photos. 

Something you had learned while working with veterans at the VA during practicum was that the celebratory photos and keepsakes rarely, if ever, existed without reminders of the trauma and destruction they had witnessed, and at times, had been a part of. 

Sometimes it felt like they kept them as proof that it wasn’t all for nothing—the beacon of light in the swell of darkness. 

His apartment felt relatively empty, enough furniture to give off the appearance someone lived here, but not enough to feel warm. This was a place to sleep, not a place to live.

You set the food down on the island in the kitchen, already tugging at the plastic knot at the top of the bag. 

“I haven’t had this since I’ve been back” You’re the first to speak since entering the apartment.

“Yeah?” He asks, watching you open the containers, “You one of those people who think Pamela’s Is the be-all end-all of breakfast?”

"We cannot go any further if you are a Deluca’s stan." You narrow your eyes at him, handing him the Styrofoam container, which he accepts graciously "don't malign the lyonnaise potatoes in my presence."

“Wasn't expecting you to be this defensive about breakfast,” He laughs, retreating to the couch, “It’s incredibly arousing.”

"Mostly the hunger talking, but this sleep-wake cycle reset is no joke" You add, joining him “Wasn’t expecting to crash so hard.”

He lets you eat in silence. It's not uncomfortable or awkward, especially after talking to patients all night, but here you are, alone with Jack Abbot in his living room, full of pancakes, and fading quickly.

“Come on,” He stands up and nods towards the hallway, “You need a nap, in an actual bed.”

“I’m fine” You shake your head, “I promise. I did not come here to nap”

“you’re exhausted, and I could also use a nap.” He insists, disappearing down the hallway towards his bedroom

"This where the nightmares happen?" By the time you reach the doorway, he's already laying down, hands behind his head, eyes closed.  He pats the spot next to him and you oblige. 

"You think I'm dark and broody" He comments, a smile on his face, "what other assumptions have you made about me?"

"Not an assumption" you correct him, "that was an observation."

"Oh, come on, humor me. I did just buy you breakfast" he replies, "and even though I’m the one with the prolonged eye contact, you've been trying to get a read on me this entire time”

"Fair," you agree, "I just think you and I are very similar."

"Go on." He states, waiting for you to continue

"Not if you want to keep this thing all surface level bullshit and fun."  you give him the opportunity for an out. 

"Come on, kid." 

"Trauma recognizes trauma" You add, “Why’d you get into emergency medicine?”

“Thought I’d be ready for a change after the years of trauma in the military,” he chuckles, “and instead I found comfort in running right back into the flames. It's a good distraction. It keeps my mind on the medicine and off some of the other stuff."

"Sure, surface level it seems like a commonsense decision to take your combat medic skills and apply them to a hospital," You agree, "but why the ER?"

"I like the fast pace, the comradery, and the distraction" He replies

"You're skirting around the big, bad, terrible thing" you counter, "It's deeper than that."

"I don't know." He’s quiet.

"You do know," you shake your head, "I'm guessing the thing that haunts you is the same thing that haunts me."

"You tell me then, if you've figured it out." 

"You need to take all of that pain and suffering and make it useful." You hear him exhale when you say it, like he's been holding his breath the entire time, "I'm sure over time you habituate to a lot of it, to death, to losing patients. But that pain sticks around, and the deep fucking sadness? that sticks around too. So, you turn it around into something useful"

"A second chance at saving everyone I couldn't" He rubs a hand over his face, "what do you know about pain?" 

"It didn't start when I was stabbed, it started long before that. And I still feel it. The pain, the sadness that's deep in my bones, the fear that nothing will ever change and the blind faith that it fucking has to. It's the pain and suffering of humanity. Of seeing the world for what it is and not being able to turn a blind eye to it. And it's the best fucking thing about me. And it's probably the best fucking thing about you too.”

“Like moths to a flame” he states, “you and I.”

Neither of you say anything else. Instead, he reaches for you,  Pulls you into his side, Your head on his chest. 

Sometimes you just need a person to be quiet with and sad next to

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Divider by @saradika-graphics

Last line is credited to Meg Fee, which has haunted me since the day that I read it on her blog

[suni-writings]

Running out of time.

jude bellingham x fem!reader

When two people who didn't know how to love met at the perfect timing to ruin each other.

part 2 | part 3

wc: 2.3k

(content warning: angst, troubled relationships, situationship)

“I can't do this anymore.”

The words escaped her lips before even she could fully process them. It was almost a whisper — a sign of utter defeat, of how much she had struggled and how much she could not take another second of being with him. There was no amount of affection that could mend what the situation had done to her, no amount of luck that could change their fate and, most definitely, no amount of effort he could have shown at that moment that would make her change her mind. It was too late for anything.

If he had listened to her attempts of communication, if he did not dismiss her feelings, if he took her more seriously… A series of ifs that only involved things he could have done.

She had tried to stay with him as long as she could, even if she felt, from the start, that she was doomed from the second her heart beat a little faster at the thought of him. After all, who would hate themselves enough to fall for Jude Bellingham, knowing his reputation, knowing the amount of women he had around on their knees, knowing him?

She thought she knew him, she really did. At least, better than others. They had met at a strange moment in their lives, where a relationship would never fit. That was never what they wanted.

Jude had recently gotten out of a relationship, whereas she was avoiding any sort of relationship for more than a year. Each one had their motivations, and one thing was clear: no relationship was a rule.

So, she didn’t mean to when she realized she was falling for him. In fact, it was nerve-wrecking — constantly beating herself up and trying to smack some sense into her own head; anything that would bring her back to reality. And like that, without knowing her feelings were reciprocated, she created a distance between them, leaving room only for her anxiety.

As her sorrow eyes met his desperate ones, she remembered. Flashes of how they ended up like that flooding into her head without her permission.

“So,” Jude said once. They were at her place — something they used to do quite often. He didn’t like bringing attention to himself and he wasn’t one to take any woman to his place, considering how the press could be if someone saw.

She didn’t know much about Jude. All she knew was that he was a good kisser, a nice company and someone that would provide her aftercare. She couldn’t ask for much more than that.

But one thing she did know — he was confident. Not that she wasn’t, but he was cocky. And, judging by the way he nervously held his thumb, she knew something wasn’t right.

“So?” She asked, tilting her head, looking at him gently.

“I—” he gulped and let out a nervous chuckle. “Look, don’t get me wrong. I know we said it was only a casual thing, but I’ve always been a man that liked, you know, talking to more than one woman.”

She nodded, furrowing her eyebrows, trying to predict what he was going to say. 

“What I want to say is—” he took a deep breath. “I don’t feel like talking to any other woman but you. I haven’t, actually, since this whole arrangement started. I know it’s only been a month, but—”

She laughed and he raised her eyebrows. She held his hand with an affection she hadn’t shown yet.

“Jude, it’s okay. I haven’t been with anyone else or even did as much as looking at anyone else ever since I’ve been with you,” she reassured him.

“Thank God.” He sighed happily, relieved.

The first and only rule was already broken.

“I can’t do this, you know. Can’t have a relationship. It’s not your fault, I just can’t do this sort of commitment at this point of my life.” Jude said while looking at her. She didn’t know where that came from.

They were peacefully taking a walk on a park close to her place. The cold breeze and the way his words somehow felt like a dagger made her shiver and cross her arms, not looking at him.

“I’ve never—” she tried to say. “We were never—”

What could she say? That they were nothing? That wasn’t the truth.

“I’ve never asked a relationship from you. I don’t even— want a relationship. We had talked about that since the beginning,” she said, furrowing her eyebrows. Did she do something that made him think otherwise?

“Let’s be honest with each other for a second.” He said and stopped her, turning her around to look at him  “This whole thing is running out of our control. I can’t do this. There’s no way I can have a serious relationship, one with actual commitment. I need to stop this before it gets to a point that I’ll hurt you.”

She swallowed. Despite her best efforts to hide how that hurt, maybe she was giving it away.

She didn’t want a relationship. They were in the same page.

But she was never the one to insist. Never the one to run after someone. In fact, her entire life, all she did was running away.

That’s all she knew how to do.

So, she just accepted it.

She sighed when she heard the knock on her door, her face twisted with annoyance. For some reason, Jude decided he wanted to see her and asked her to dress up nicely — something he knew she always did, but maybe he just wanted her to create some expectation and, perhaps, not dislike him as much as she was disliking him at that moment.

When she opened the door, he was standing there with a beautiful bouquet of flowers and in a perfect tuxedo. She would’ve sighed, if it wasn’t for the last conversation they had.

“You think you can buy me flowers and what? Problem solved?” She asked, not bothering to hide how much his presence maddened her.

“No. I know you better than that,” Jude said carefully, knowing he had to think well before speaking if he wanted to still be in her life. “But I can still buy you flowers, right? I know you like peonies. And I also like to think that’s a decent way to greet a woman you’d like to take on a date.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“On a date?” She asked in disbelief. “I thought dates were too couple-ish for you.” She mocked him.

He sighed deeply.

“I was wrong, alright?” He said and run a hand through his hair. “Well, not that wrong. The situation is getting out of hand and we’re breaking every rule we made up, but you’re right, this isn’t like I’m dating you. Still, I’d love to have you on my life and for things to be… the way they were before I fucked up.”

She sighed, crossing her arms.

“My ex showed up that day and I just got nervous; I think.” He looked down. “I had never liked someone this fast, you know? I don’t know how it happened to us. But when she showed up, everything I was afraid of suddenly came back and I just— almost ruined us. Whatever this is.” He looked at her. “But you're not her, and I like you so, so fucking much. Can I, please, have the honor of a second chance?”

“It’s the only one you’re having.” She said as she grabbed the bouquet. “Nice choice of flowers.”

He opened the sweetest, most genuine smile.

“Things are so much easier when I’m with you. I wish it was always like this. That I could take you everywhere,” Jude said.

They were stargazing in her backyard, laying on the soft grass. His head was on her chest as she caressed his hair. They didn’t need to look at each other and he didn’t need to see her eyes to know how she felt — he could hear her heartbeat. It was more than enough.

He was going through a rough patch; she knew that much. And she didn’t know how to fix it, how to help him — it was out of her reach to do such a thing and he would hate if she even tried. His pride always took a tool on him, used to suffering in silence.

“I know.” She sighed softly. “I like being with you, if that helps. You’re my favorite person to talk to.”

“I hope I am,” he chuckled softly. “That’s why we’re sort of together, right?”

“Right,” she nodded. Things seemed so easier and intimate when they were like that. She felt his soft locks against her fingers and sighed once again. “But only sort of together.” She teased him.

“You’re annoying,” he joked.

“Touché.”

“Why are you so mad at me?!” Bellingham exclaimed, trying to run after her as she made her way out of the nightclub. He tried to reach for her arm and called out her name. “Stop, please.”

She stopped. Why was she still agreeing with anything he told her to do, anyway? Even when she couldn’t think straight, even when she was tipsy from all the alcohol she had consumed. Since when he became such a strong influence in her life that she would just submit to what he said? Why didn’t she leave?

Why didn’t she run away?

She was so good at that.

“I just—” She looked up, trying to find a way to put her words together and make it make sense. “I hate seeing you surrounded by so many women. And it’s so clear how much you enjoy the attention.”

“I don’t—”

“You literally left me standing to go talk to whoever that woman was.”

“You’re exaggerating and you don’t want to listen to me. Why don’t you just breathe for one second?” He asked her. “Look, I might enjoy the attention, but I wouldn’t leave you standing anywhere. I told you, when this whole thing started, that you’d never have to worry about me hitting on someone in front of you.”

And, to her, it felt like they had taken every step back. He didn’t mean for his words to come out like that, really. He knew what she had gone through in her relationships and how much anxiety she could feel from liking someone. He wanted to reassure her and was managing to do the opposite.

“Yeah, the same way we told each other this would be nothing serious,” she scoffed. “And it really seemed like you were flirting with her. How come when it’s with me, I have to chill and take a deep breathe, but when you’re feeling like that, I have to keep explaining myself?”

He opened up his mouth, but no words left. She knew he’d say she was making a fuss over nothing.

“Good night, Bellingham,” she said before leaving the club, not bothering to look back.

That same day, thousands of pictures of him in the club came out. He wasn’t doing anything, but her heart broke a little bit more from how many women surrounded him.

He didn’t bother to explain.

In fact, he had ignored her for two weeks.

That’s how they ended up here.

“You’re joking, right?” Jude asked, though he knew her enough to know if she was bluffing or not. “I just told you all my problems and— that I need a break from us. I need to focus on other aspects of my life, I can’t afford the luxury of having space for anything romantic.”

She laughed dryly.

“And what am I supposed to do, huh? Shove my feelings right up my ass just because you want me to wait for you? Or even worse, be your friend?” She didn’t mean to sound that aggressive, but the two weeks of no contact were more than enough for her anxiety to overcome every good memory they had and replace them with thoughts that he didn’t even really care.

“I’m not asking to be your friend! Jesus, you’re so complicated!” Jude exclaimed.

“I'm not complicated!” She argued back. “I’m just tired of having to put your feelings on top of mine, of prioritizing you instead of myself. I know where this ends and I won’t submit myself to this. Not to this, not to you, not with you.”

“Please,” he sounded desperate. Pathetically desperate. He held her arm. “Don’t do this to me. Wait for me. I will come back, I swear to God.”

“And put my life on hold because you want me to?” She asked, looking up at him, showing how hurt she was by the whole situation.

“What if I’m losing the love of my life over something I cannot control?” He asked her in a whisper, his brown eyes meeting hers.

It was his last attempt, that was for sure. But he forgot just how good she was at walking away. Maybe it was her fault for always finding some excuse for his attitudes or even for forgiving him, in first place. Maybe she should've walked away when she realized she was catching feelings. Maybe she shouldn’t have allowed him a second chance.

A series of maybes that only involved things she could have done.

But one thing was for sure: she wasn’t going to break herself over anyone ever again. Despite how much she liked him, despite the part of her that was willing to wait — she had been through too much to do that to herself again. She didn’t know if it was worth it, not anymore.

“I’m not the love of your life, Jude.” She said and did what she was the best at: walking away.

[captain-huggy-bear]

Quinn or Clay with a girl with a lot of body hair because I'm so insecure about it and there's like no rep for girls having body hair everywhere

Quinn + PCOS vibes because as someone with PCOS I get this. In recent years with my hormones out of whack my body hair has grown darker and more and in places that people don't usually show on women because we're indoctrinated to believe we should all be hairless cats. I get it cause it makes me feel insecure when you're being told it shouldn't be there, so I got you, babes because I genuinely think we think and notice it more than any one else but I know my boy Quinn would notice you feeling insecure and try to make you feel better. TW: Insecurities, body image issues surrounding body hair, reader is not gender neutral, very much written from a cis woman's perspective Big requests/full fic/big idea requests are closed at the moment but drabble and prompt requests are still open. Writing Masterlist

Quinn is so in tune with you, so aware of you that he always notices when you start to pull away, when something is heavy on your mind, when you're not quite feeling yourself. You're a master at hiding it from most people; a false smile here, a slightly bigger jacket there, a change of clothing that doesn't seem suspicious to anyone else, but to him is a red flag.

He knows you. He knows you get self conscious about many parts of your body but he knows in particular when you're feeling self conscious about your body hair. It's natural. He often tries to remind you that you're a human being, a fully grown woman, with hormones and body hair and a pulse. Tries to remind you that you're supposed to have it, that you're not a child. But, it doesn't stop that niggling feeling of self consciousness, the feeling like you're too masculine, too out of the realm of standard beauty practices.

Since puberty you've always had darker more obvious body hair and over the years its grown fast, longer, thicker and in places people said were for men. People constantly reminding you that women weren't supposed to have that, women were supposed to be smooth, hairless, an impossible and ridiculous standard that is simply a lie. But, whenever you forget that, whenever you start to judge your body, the hair on your stomach, arms, chest, the way it looks, you start to change your habits.

Like now. Quinn's watching you get dressed. The way you put layer after layer on despite the spring warmth outside...because you feel like hiding. To anyone else your comment that you felt chilly might be accepted, but not by Quinn. He knows you're going to be too hot all day, he knows the real reason you're piling the layers on and he can't accept it.

"Baby, take it off." Quinn's tugging at the giant hoodie, thick material, that you'd thrown on top of everything else you were wearing. You were already sweating, red in the face, too warm to be wearing it.

"I'm cold." You tug away from him, but he just tugs you back until you're facing him. Quinn's hands tug at the neck of the hoodie, before slipping inside to cup the back of your neck and round of your shoulder. Even that feels wrong, like you're not good enough for him to touch right now, insecurity bubbling in your chest.

"No...you're not."

"Quinn, I don't want to do this right now." You feel ugly, self-conscious, uncomfortable. You don't want to have this fight with him, you know he means well, but you're just not feeling it today.

"Baby, there's nothing wrong with how you look today, take it off, you're going to be boiling."

There's a pause before you answer, taking in the earnest way he looks at you, all soft puppy dog eyes like you wearing all these layers hurts him too. You really are too warm.

This time when Quinn tugs at the hoodie you let him pull it over your head until you're stood in front of him, arms crossed over your chest because you feel wrong. It's magnified for you, your perception of your body, of the things you deem flaws. Each hair on your arm seems too dark, too long. Each hair on your chest too masculine, that one hair on your neck you have to pluck, feeling like it's about to scream that it's there for all to see.

But, Quinn's eyes just soften further, smile starting to creep up. A look of love, adoration, admiration.

"You're so pretty, baby..." Your eyes fall to your shoes, biting your lip harshly because his words while sincere just feel like lies, because you don't feel pretty right now.

"I don't feel pretty...I feel manly."

The sigh he lets out is hurt on your behalf, almost a groan because how can you not see how pretty you are every day? How can you not feel like the most gorgeous person on earth when you are? It has Quinn taking your face in his hands, thumbs pressing into the underside of your jaw, fingers easing into the hair on the side of your head.

"You're super pretty, prettiest girl in the world," His thumb brushes that one hair on your neck and it makes you want to curl up and die, eyes squeezing shut, but it's purposeful on Quinn's end. He needs you to understand that he doesn't care, that it doesn't make him find you any less beautiful or look down you. That you don't need to worry.

"But...."

"You're worrying about your body hair again, aren't you?"

You just nod your head because Quinn knows. He knows all your insecurities, each thought that runs through your head...because you've told him, because the one thing you never do is hide those feelings and thoughts from each other. Each mental storm is one to be weathered together.

"I love you. I think you're the most beautiful person I have ever met." Your eyes drift open, rising to meet his, genuine, earnest, determined to make you believe him in a way no one ever has before. How many times have you heard 'you're being silly'? How many times has someone disregarded your feelings? Made you feel emotional, hysterical? How many people have really taken them time to try to get you to think differently, feel differently without invalidating you.

"But..."

"No. No ands. No ifs. No buts. I think you're beautiful, I think you're beautiful when you don't pluck that hair on your neck you hate. I think you're beautiful when you don't wax the hair on your stomach. I don't care about it, I don't think it makes a difference to how pretty you are to me."

"You mean that?" Your voice is still small but there's that hint of hope there, that subtle change that tells Quinn you're starting believe him, that maybe he's getting through to you.

"Yeah, baby, I mean it. I just wish you felt as pretty as you are because you're so pretty. You need to stop being so mean to my girlfriend, baby..." His fingers brush your cheeks, gentle, soft, like he's afraid if he presses too hard you'll bruise like a ripe peach.

"Okay...I can try."

"Good, I'm here to remind you anytime." He presses a kiss to your forehead, soft and sweet. Unspoken meaning transferred from him to you.

Yeah, maybe you don't always feel good. Maybe you have your doubts, your insecurities, but Quinn? Oh, Quinn is going to do his damnedest to make you see what he sees when he looks at you.

Beauty.