#I almost feel like there are more cons than pros to the job

[olimabelss]

Should I, or should I not, quit my job without having something else lined up?

[roguerogerss]

The President

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader

W/C: 3.2k

Warnings: SMUT!!, Livia is also a warning.

(this is getting out of hand now. someone please for the love of GOD stop me from writing these. also the president thing got away from me in this one and i feel sick.) (EDIT: here’s part 2 babes, as requested!) (requests r open, send me stuff here)

-

“Well, Felix will obviously get it." You'd hardly been listening to the conversation at hand, but Lysistrata seemed to be making a point that you wouldn't want to miss, given her excessive gesturing whilst talking, "His father was the last President, and he was great, I'm sure they'll take that into consideration-"

"But Festus is smarter." Livia cut in, snippish as always, pointed nose turned up and drink poised, looking like a judging, middle-aged woman. "And he's got the grades to prove it. And he was thought of very highly within the University, you know."

"But what about Pup? Surely he'll make a better president than Festus, and I dare say Felix, aswell." Clemensia was next to make her point, "Eugh, thinking about Festus at school, how sloppy he was," She'd turned to you, now, "Do you remember that? How on earth could he make a good president?"

"But he's different now, Clemmie, such a great husband, and he'll be such a great President, when he gets the position later." Livia was always so disgustingly sure of herself, it made you want to tell her to shut up, and then, after the fact, lock yourself in your apartment for the next few hours and scream into a pillow. "What about you, Y/N? Who do you think will get it?"

You hadn't even bothered to listen to what the rest of the women thought the pros and cons of their respective husbands being President of Panem, were. Your ears had only really perked up upon hearing your name come from Livia's puckered little mouth. "Well, I think you're discounting Coriolanus."

This warranted an eruption of laughter from all of the women around you, Clemmie laughed so hard that she had to grip your arm for support, and Livia pointed her glass at the rest of your former classmates and laughed with them over your statement. "You can't be serious!" Livia shrieked. "I mean, I know he's your husband and all, sweetie, but he's a total rule breaker, they need someone reliable, trustworthy! Your Coriolanus isn't anything of the sort."

Your Coriolanus. It almost made your face crack into a smile, and you had to roll your tongue around in your mouth to keep from giggling like the schoolgirl you once were. You'd only been married to Coriolanus for three days, but you'd had to postpone your honeymoon so that he could go ahead with his running for President of Panem. It didn't feel quite real, yet, that you'd married your childhood sweetheart, and hearing Livia refer to him as your husband, as much as you hated her, made your head spin with happiness.

"He'd be more than capable, Livia. He's smart, incredibly smart, and that's been recognised, too. And he's seen more of Panem than anyone you'd consider to be a prime candidate. Dr Gaul loves him, surely her vote is better counted than most anyone else's." You countered. Normally, you wouldn't involve yourself with such arguments. Your high school friends had been married a lot longer than you had, settled at twenty as opposed to your wedding at twenty-three, and you'd always had the gruelling job of listening in on them competing with eachother.

Who's husband was best at this, who's was best at that? Who's father-in-law was richest, who's husband had bought them the bigger house after the wedding, who's husband fucked them the most and who's was best? You'd vowed to yourself that, when the time came, and you and Coryo finally married, you wouldn't bother telling anyone much of your personal life.

"I suppose you have a point." Clemensia was easily the nicest out of your friends, the only one you really enjoyed the company of, and she liked Coriolanus, too. While the others only seemed to slander him, what with his stint in the games and his time as a Peacekeeper, she only ever seemed to speak about him from a place of friendship. "Coriolanus is smart, and Dr Gaul adores him, remember when we mentored? He'd have won the Plinth prize, for sure, if everything else hadn't happened."

"But it did, though, Clemensia. It did happen, and I think his chances have been ruined, if I'm honest." Lysistrata made her first comment in a few minutes.

"They've definitely been ruined. I mean, half of the Capitol think he's a rebel." Livia scoffed.

"But the other half think he's brilliant. A young, complex mind. Someone who doesn't think like the rest of us do." You took a sip from your drink, and Livia scowled at you. She knew you were right, and, although Livia always had a counter argument, she seemed lost on this one. "I suppose we'll have to wait. Maybe the half of us who think he's great will outweigh the half who don't."

"I suppose we will, slim chance and all, but..." Livia shrugged and clicked her tongue. "We won't be waiting too long, look."

She gestured to the television, which had been playing commentary from Lucretius 'Lucky' Flickerman, and had now switched to all four men standing uniformly on a stage, crowds surrounding them. Lucky uttered something about how the last votes had now been cast, and so it was time to announce the President.

Livia gasped and grabbed your hand, then Lysistrata's, and Clemensia took hold of your other one, giving it a slight squeeze and sending a small smile your way. "This is it!" Livia announced dramatically.

"Hold tight, ladies! One of us is about to be First Lady of Panem." It was painfully obvious, when Livia said 'one of us', that she meant herself. You knew she wouldn't even think about being happy for any of the rest of you, should it be anyone other than Festus claiming the title.

"Here, we have our four presidential candidates." Lucky announced on the television, "All Academy and University graduates, we have, Festus Creed, Felix Ravinstill, Pliny Harrington, and, last but not least, Coriolanus Snow!"

You smiled softly when the camera panned over the boys on stage, your childhood friends, your husband, standing side by side, all up for the position of President. Coriolanus' suit was pressed to perfection by Tigris, and you'd done his hair for him that morning, he looked amazing - handsome, professional, presidential.

"Now, in this envelope, I have the name of the man, out of these four, who will become President of Panem." Lucky flashed a black and gold envelope, and then stalled for a few seconds, having a pigeon fly out of his sleeve, and making an out of place remark about magic.

"The time has come." The broadcast was incredibly dramatic, and you wished he'd just cut the unnecessary stuff and put you all out of your misery. "The new President of Panem, is..."

The silence of Lucky's pause was filled with Livia clamping a hand over her mouth and squealing, you wished even further that she would just be quiet.

"Coriolanus Snow!"

You'd hardly been expecting him to actually win, but Coryo had put so much of himself into his campaign, and you felt a huge sense of pride wash over you as the cameras closed in on him and his face lit up in one of his stunning, toothy grins. Your eyes widened in shock, and you heard Clemmie laugh excitedly.

"Congratulations!" She let go of your hand and threw her arms around you. "Coriolanus deserves this, really, he does, and so do you!"

You hadn't a clue what to say to anyone, whether to revel in your glory or to extend your sympathy that their husbands hadn't won, but, when you turned to see Livia's face, bright red and obviously stewing in anger, and Lysistrata's dropped in sheer disappointment, you almost laughed out loud.

"I suppose the part of the Capitol who love Coryo is bigger than the part who don't." You smiled sweetly at Livia. "I wish Festus better luck next time.”

-

The rest of the day dragged on, Livia had only been letting her anger fester and had hardly said a word since the announcement - you certainly weren't complaining - and the rest of the girls were simply flooding you with questions, congratulations, and stories from when they'd been growing up with Coriolanus, as though reminding you of the fact they'd been there since before he was President.

The reporters had become an issue, too. Coryo had warned you about them, kneeling in front of you after fastening the straps of your high heels that morning. "They'll try to bleed you dry, whether I win or not. Just try to ignore them, don't give them much. All they want is a story." And then, he'd kissed you and smoothed your hair down, soothing you on what he knew was already a nerve-wracking morning.

You tried to remember his words, solidified with that kiss, every time they approached you. Don't give them too much, but don't give them nothing, ignore them where you can, wait until you've been properly trained on how to give interviews. It began to dawn on you that your entire life might start to feel like this, now, and you made a mental note to tell Coryo all of your concerns later and let him silence them for you.

You didn't see your husband for almost an hour after the announcement, and most of the women you'd been with before the broadcast were badly drunk by the time he showed his face. It was in the middle of a particularly slurred story, about something that Clemmie absolutely should not have been telling every female University graduate that she knew, that you'd felt the large, familiar hand snake it's way around your waist.

You turned to find Coryo standing there, beaming down at you. "Hello, First Lady." He mused. You smiled so widely at him, and quickly pulled his face down to connect your lips in an almost too suggestive kiss, earning whoops from the crowd of girls you'd gone to school with.

"Sorry, ladies, I'm going to borrow my wife for a while, if you don't mind." Coryo smiled to everyone, and then accepted side-hugs and kisses on the cheek and congratulations from everybody around you.

Afterwards, he quickly pressed his hands to either side of your waist and started to guide you through the crowd of people, avoiding reporters where he could and, where he couldn't, telling them he'd give them a proper interview later, but had somewhere to be at that moment. Most everyone you passed would clap him on the shoulder or shriek something that sounded congratulatory.

Eventually, you reached an empty hall, with large hardwood doors and, inside, marble pillars and polished stone floors. You looked around, amazed, you'd never been to this particular building before, but every room you'd gone into so far was a marvel in itself.

"I don't have long, shouldn't even be away from everything going on at all, but I couldn't resist seeing you any longer." Coryo admitted, face flushed as though this was a first date. You smiled gratefully at him.

"Thought I was going to die if I had to speak to anyone else from the Academy. I mean, how annoying is everyone we went to school with?" Coryo chuckled, approaching you and enveloping you in his arms. His suit smelled of roses, like always, and it calmed you so deeply that you wanted to stay that way forever, inhaling his scent and forgetting about every other responsibility you had.

"I'm sorry I left you with them for so long. Especially Livia, even Festus isn't as mad as she is." Coryo held you at an arms length and smoothed your hair affectionately. You leaned into his hand.

"She's certainly been a pleasure." You joked.

Coriolanus laughed and then, quickly, his lips were on yours, catching you off guard and making you smile against him. "Wanted to come and see you because I couldn't stop thinking about you." He explained, lips becoming rougher on yours by the second.

You knew exactly what he meant, as his hand squeezed your waist and he backed you into one of the pillars. "That car ride here, you're such a tease, and all for me, hmm?"

"All for you." You agreed, breathlessly.

"Such a bad girl, though. Getting me all riled up like that and not doing anything about it. Making me flustered, I was struggling to talk to people, just thinking about fucking you." His fingers ran from your cheek, down your neck and to your collarbone, which was exposed and red hot with arousal, "And you're so flushed, honey, makes me wonder if, maybe, you did this on purpose. Maybe you wanted me to think about it all day, wanted me to be pining for you, didn't you?"

You were quiet, just revelling in the way his rough fingers felt against your skin. Coryo’s voice hardened slightly, and the sense of authority had you sucking your bottom lip between your teeth. “Answer me, sweetheart."

"I wanted you to think of me, Coryo." You reached out and brushed a stray curl from his forehead. “I love knowing you're thinking about me."

"Oh, baby, I'm always thinking about you." His eyes raked over your body and you suddenly felt naked under his gaze. “But I think, after your little stint earlier, getting me so hard in the car and then having me walk through a crowd like that where you knew people would see, you need to be punished."

"Mm," You hummed. "And what would my punishment be, President Snow."

Coryo practically growled upon hearing you call him that, the power of it all, and he gripped you roughly by the back of the neck and slammed his lips onto yours, a clash of teeth and tongue, so rough, so hot. "I wasn't going to do this, but, I have to take care of this," He pointed to his clothed, but very obvious erection. "So, be a good girl and bend over that railing for me, will you?"

"What?" Your voice was blunt and your eyes wide. Never had Coryo asked you to do anything of the sort. You were all for commands in the bedroom, in the kitchen, even in the car, but he'd never been so public about it. "Coryo, there are so many people out there. Someone could walk in."

"I don't care, sugar, I'm the President now, remember?" His fingers had curled around your chin, tilting it upwards for you to look at him. “Don't you think it's my right to be able to fuck my wife wherever I please?"

You felt a wetness pooling between your legs at the sound of him calling you his wife, and at how horny he so obviously was, and so, slowly, seductively, you bent over the marble railing, overlooking a staircase and, below, another polished room. You pulled the skirt of your red, silk dress up past your thighs and over the curve of your ass, painfully slowly, never breaking eye contact with Coriolanus, who's mouth was hanging open and you could see his tongue gliding over his top teeth.

"That's it." He coed, positioning himself behind you and pushing your dress up even further, so that your waist and most of your back was on display now, too. He ran his hands over your exposed skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. "That's my girl. If you're good, you'll get your reward later, yeah?"

"And what would my reward be?"

"I'll make you cum so many times you'll be seeing stars, darling, I promise." He bent over you, kissing your neck, “But, for now, let me fuck you, and keep yourself quiet. Can you do that?"

You didn't honestly think you could, you never managed to, even when you pressed a hand to your mouth, bit down on his shoulder or your wrist, your neighbours were still more than able to hear your whimpers and moans. But you nodded, anyway, too excited by his proposal for later on. "Good." He gently moved your hair off of your back and pressed a kiss to the back of your neck. "Good girl."

He'd only unzipped his slacks and pushed your skimpy underwear to the side, but that was all he needed, and you were so wet that it made it easy for him to slide straight into you, both of your moans echoing around the hall as he did so.

The sounds of his skin slapping against yours, and your moans, muffled by the palm of your hand, were so ludicrous, here in this huge, pure white room, that it made the experience a hundred times hotter, in your opinion. "You'll be a good girl for me now, won't you? After I've filled you up, you'll be my perfect girl, hmm?"

"Yes, Coryo!" A loud moan left your lips, which only lead Coriolanus to smack your ass once, something that he only did to warn you if you were getting too loud. "I'll be good, I promise."

He was bent fully over you, chest pressed against your back, cheek to your shoulder blade, and his lips being right at your ear had you getting close, every thrust of his hips, every whisper of your name or breathy moan, the way his hands continued to roam your body. "Coryo, I'm getting close." You whispered.

"Hold it. Didn't say you could cum, did I?" You began to protest, but he cut you off before you could even make your point, "You've been a bad girl, and you need to take your punishment seriously. Do you understand?"

You went quiet, the idea of him fucking you, getting you so close only to pull you back, had you lost for words. His hand found your neck, and he squeezed his fingers around it gently, making you cry out in pleasure, "I said, do you understand?"

"Yes! Yes, Coryo, I understand." You whined, "You feel too good."

"Gonna cum." He warned, and only a few seconds later, his hips stuttered against you and he stifled an especially guttural groan against your shoulder as you felt warm ropes of cum filling you up.

His whole body shuddered, and he pressed his face as far into your back as it could go, breathing heavily. When he pulled out of you, leaving you bent over the railing, throbbing and clenching around nothing, a few drops of cum dropped down your leg, and he felt his cock twitching just at the sight.

"It's taking everything in me not to make you cum right here, trust me, sweetheart." Coryo tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear when you finally managed to stand up - albeit wobbly - and then immediately began fussing over his own hair. "But you need to wait, you understand that, don't you? Need to prove to me you can be good."

"I will, Coryo." You helped him out with his hair, smoothing it gently. "Promise."

"Good girl." He helped you to pull your dress down and fix your underwear, and then pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I'll have to go back out there. Try not to murder Livia for me, okay?"

Coryo opened the door, so that you could both go and rejoin your respective parties, but your legs were shaking so badly you found yourself hardly able to stand, nevermind walk. Coriolanus smirked at this, watching you smugly.

He fixed out his suit jacket, and then leaned in for one last kiss. "I'll see you soon, okay?"

"See you soon, President Snow."

[mitsuyaya]

[ househusband’s gripe ] okkotsu yuuta

contains: 512 words. fluff, reader and yuuta are married

summary: Like all the things in this world, being a househusband has its pros and cons — and the biggest detriment in yuuta's case, is keeping you in his arms for a long time.

end note: cross posting 4/6 of my yuuta's bday bash from ao3. i just missed him sry 😔

jjk masterlist

Without any other complaints, Okkotsu Yuuta loves being a househusband.

It may be because of the simplicity of taking care of his spouse, the home he'll spend his eternity with the person he loves and his little bundles of joy, a product of his love and devotion for you. And possibly, because of how easy it is to dedicate his life, time and effort to something other than exorcising curses.

If the Okkotsu during his teenage years, one that was devoid of warmth and comfort, were to be asked – he would've never seen himself be a househusband, let alone be married to someone other than loneliness.

To be cladded with nothing but the responsibility of keeping the house stable, keeping the home the both of you would live in until your last breath, be filled with comfort, passion and serenity.

It's an unbelievable occurrence that he'll willingly do over and over again – because he knows, it's worth it. Serving you and the family he meticulously crafted is worth it.

Especially when at the end of the day, the house that was barren, that you can almost see a weed tumbling like in an old western movie, would be filled with noises he longs to hear after an exhausting day.

“Darling, I'm home! Did you miss me?”

It's your voice that'll fill the house, that'll fill the emptiness he felt the moment you stepped out of the house and bid him farewell.

But despite the contentment he feels, there's one thing he has a complaint on, there's one thing that makes him irritated — how his job as a househusband meant he can't keep you in his arms for too long.

Maki and the other's said that he's dramatic, complaining about how unfair it is for you to spend all day on your job: leaving first thing in the morning, that sometimes you two don't meet, and returning late in the evening, that oftentimes, he's already asleep.

Call him childish but honestly, he doesn't care. It's unfair, at least to him that is – all he wants is to be cuddled in your warmth or to cuddle you for as long as God would let you both. All he wants is for you to be in his line of sight all the time, to be only filled with your presence and nothing more.

Yuuta, your husband, wants time to stop the exact moment he had you in his arms. He wants it to stay that way, be interrupted by nothing and no one else. He wants to be drowned in your love and attention – it's what he deserves, it's what he needs, it's what he yearns for.

“Darling, why are you so quiet? Don't you want a hug hm?”

It is unfair, it is worth the complain,

but if it meant that it's him you'll be coming home to,

it's you he'll wait for at the front door,

it's him you'll praise for doing a good job,

it's you he'll wake up to —

“Welcome home, pretty. I miss you.”

then, he wouldn't mind, one bit.

[slytherinshua]

LIFELONG (COFFEE) ADDICT

genre. fluff. warnings. jokes about addiction. and brief marriage mention. sion is so whipped. not proofread. pairing. sion x reader. wc. 572. request. requested by anon for #21: "when I’m with you everything else goes away.” a/n. i swear in every wish behind this man is drinking another cup 😟 he's just like me 😭 the coffee addiction goes hard.

“I’m going to marry you one day.” Sion sighed dreamily as he wrapped his arms around your waist, whispering the affectionate remark close to your ear. You giggled at his sentiment, finding his morning clinginess to be one of his infinite attractive traits. Your boyfriend always looked forward to the days off work when he could stay with you, partly because he could never get enough of your company, and partly because the coffee you made was almost as addictive as your lips. 

He felt that way now as well, the first morning he was back in your cosy apartment, holding you closer than ever as the smell of freshly ground coffee beans reached his nose. Although he still had much more to do that morning before he was ready for the day— he still had to change out of his pyjamas and tackle the birds nest that was the current state of his hair— he allowed himself to rest completely against you, warm cheek rested on your shoulder as his arms squeezed your waist.

“You say that often these days. Do you really miss me that much?” You asked him back as you poured the kettle of boiling water over the grounds in slow circular motions. You had been dating Sion since before he debuted, and the busy schedules he had now certainly put more distance between you two than he was used to.

“All the time. But, when I’m with you, everything else goes away.” He told you softly. Sion was more than excellent at his job, and you could tell how much he loved what he did. He got to perform on big stages and work with his best friends. There were definitely more pros than cons to his job, and he would never even think about doing something else. But one of the biggest cons was the stress and distance. 

You were his way to destress and relax his mind so that when he got back to work, he could lead his members in the best way possible. You could always feel how much weight he was carrying, and all the burdens that he had to face head on. But, thankfully, Sion was easy to please, and didn’t expect you to carry any of his responsibilities. Simply being with you was enough to give his body a reset. That, and tasting your coffee, of course.

“You’ve seriously never thought of opening a coffee shop?” Sion asked, a hint of shock in his voice.

“Never. I don’t think I’d like serving customers that much. You’re the only one who’s tolerable.” You joked, mirroring Sion’s grin. He finished his cup of coffee in the time it took you to only start sipping yours. Naturally, you stood up to serve him a second cup.

“You’re such an addict, Sion.” You giggled at how excited he still got as you placed down the refilled mug. He looked simply adorable, still in his pyjamas with messy hair and puffy face. 

“I know already. Coffee, sleep, and you. The 3 biggest addictions of my life.” He said it proudly, smirking slightly at your shy smile at his addition.

“Someone needs to put you in rehab.” You brushed back some of his hair, revealing his forehead as a clear target for your kiss. 

“Not for you.” He stated clearly, drawing the line for which addictions he could go without. “I hope I’m a lifelong addict.” 

↳ nct wish taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @lexeees,, @nyukyusnz,, @planetkiimchi,,

@haecien,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @talking-saxy,, @hursheys,,

@kristianities

[tomscumdoll]

Make a story where the reader is an employee, kinda intern, but Tom never cared about but her Even though she has a crush on him and is extremely attractive, he wanted to be ethical and not get involved with her, buuuut one night at a the end of a concert he goes to the dressing room stressed and like... He takes out the stress (inside🫦) her, in a very rough way😝☝🏻

im so sorry this took like a week to make but i did it! please tell me if you like it 😞

Professional

CHARACTERS: 2008 Tom & f!reader

CONTENT: FLUFF + SMUT

WARNINGS: oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), that's it

A/N: i finished this at 12:09 am help and i started 2 days ago 😣

--------------------------------------------------------

You were part of the stage crew for Tokio Hotel, you know setting up the stage, making sure the mics are on, making sure the light cues were correct. Your job had its pros which were, getting a free concert almost every week, being friends with all the band members, and seeing Tom every day. But it also had its cons which were, staying up late cleaning the stage after a concert, waking up early to start the stage, and seeing Tom everyday.

You had the biggest crush on him and everyone knew. It was pretty obvious. But, Tom had stated he wanted to keep things between him and his employees strictly professional. It broke your heart knowing he didn't want you. But, you fought through the hurt and continued doing your job.

One night before a set, Tom seemed more quiet and irritable than usual. Every small thing you would do he would glare at you and to be honest it was scary but, it kinda turned you on. You went into his dressing room to make sure everything was ready when someone came in and slammed the door. It frightened you and you turned around only to see that it was Tom. He closed the gap between you guys in 3 long strides. You got nervous and flustered.

"Oh, Tom! I was just making sur-" You were cut off by him smashing his lips onto yours. Your eyes widened but you slowly melted into his touch and reciprocated the movements. His strong arms wrapped around your waist as your arms went around his neck. His hands roamed all over body, as he slowly unbuttoned your shirt. One by one. He increasingly got impatient as his fingers fumbled with the buttons and he just ripped your shirt, the sound of buttons hitting the ground filled the room. His eyes raked over your body like you were his prey. He took your bottom lip in between his teeth and tugged, a shiver of pain and pleasure ran through your body.

He released your bottom lip and picked you up and threw you on the couch that was in there. You let out a slight yelp as you landed, and looked up at him with those submissive eyes of yours, biting your lip, already dripping wet for him. He looked down at you with a devilish smirk, his eyes filled with lust and desire for you. He leaned down, his eyes never leaving yours, your nose touching his, and he spoke in this lust filled voice that almost sent you over the edge. He said,

"I'm gonna fuck your little brains out."

That one sentence alone made you want bend over for him and let him do whatever he wants but, you had to be patient. He pressed his lips against yours, a little more gently this time. He gently pushed you against the back of the couch, his big hand running up your thighs to the hem of your pants, gently tugging and tugging until he had the pooled around your ankles. He pulled away from your lips, and went down, closer and closer to your dripping wet entrance. Your eyes followed him, your lip hurting from how much you were biting it. Those eyes, goddammit, those beautiful brown chocolate eyes. So beautiful yet, so dangerous. He was so alluring, you couldn't help it! Your thoughts were interrupted by his ministrations, your fingers tangled in his dreads, pulling them gently, head falling back against the couch, soft moans escaping your lips.

His tongue, plus the feeling of his lip ring, lapping up your juices almost sent you over the edge right then and there. Your moans increasingly got louder and louder with each stroke. He removed his mouth and you let out a soft whine, a pang of disappointment went through your chest, not wanting him to stop.

"W-Why'd you stop..?" You whispered breathlessly, looking down at him through the lust filled haze.

"So that I can do this." He said lowly, his voice husky. Before you could even process the words, there's two fingers inside you. You let out cry of pleasure, loud enough that people in the fucking arena could here you. Tom was watching your face contort into one of pleasure with a smug look on his face. The movements of fingers plunging in and out of you was too much. Your eyes squeezed shut each time you cried, closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. As his fingers plunged into, you came all over his fingers, letting out a loud moan.

He gently removed his fingers from you, licking the white liquid of his fingers. He gently got off the floor and looked at you with a more softer looked and kissed you way more softer this time. He pulled you close to his chest, his fingers tangling in your hair. As you guys kissed, there was knock on the door.

"Tom! You're on in 15! Hurry!" The voice yelled behind the door, you realized it was the stage manager and your boss. He would be pissed if he found you guys like this. You guys pulled away from each other and scrambled to get up. Your shirt was ruined and you were left in your shorts. Tom quickly gave you one of his shirts and you threw it on, you fixed your hair and made sure you don't look at hot mess. You both walked out there, looking down at the floor. Tom walked right pass the stage manager and went to go get ready while you stood next to him awkwardly. Your boss glared at you and just looked at the stage when he went on. In the middle of set, he looked to the left wing where you were and winked. You blew a kiss and he blew one back.

Best. Night. Ever.

[captainamericasmotercycle]

Jake would also be a great fit for the prompt I just sent you, I copy-pasted the prompt from my notes app prompts list and forgot to change the name.

part of my 500 follower celebration!!!

Never Letting Go

pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader

warnings: smut, MINORS DNI, 18+, angst, fluff, p in v sex, penetration sex, mentions of money, cowgirl/missionary, jake being in LOVE, me knowing nothing about the military

wc: 1.7k

a/n: ok i had so much fun writing this one so i hope you guys like it!!

prompt: you break up with Jake to try and make sure he doesn’t turn down the dagger squad’s permanent stationing in order to stay with you, and Jake is not having any of that and fucks you so well he shows you just how much he loves you and isn’t letting you go?

absolutely DO NOT steal my work and post it on other platforms. DO NOT feed my work to AI fuck that

You and Jake have been together for almost 2 years. You met in your hometown of Dallas, Texas; you worked in an office in Dallas’s CBD and Jake was stationed just outside of Dallas.

The two of you had run into each other at the grocery store, Jake was fairly new to the area, having grown up in Austin, and he looked a little lost, so feeling pity on him, you decided to help him out. After the long - but not grueling - shopping trip, Jake offered to take you out and of course you accepted.

Ever since then you’ve been attached at the hip. Until now.

Only months ago, Jake was called back to Top Gun for a dangerous, top secret mission. And since his team’s performance during the mission was so high, the squad was offered a permanent spot as a special operations team at Top Gun Academy.

When he told you the news you couldn’t help but be ecstatic for him because you know he’s worked so incredibly hard for this.

You dwelled on the pros and cons of moving to California when you realized that you were only holding Jake back, there was no way that he would go without you but you couldn’t just pick up your entire life and move out to San Diego. I mean you have a job and a life here! Not to mention how expensive Cali is! You just didn’t want him to stay because of you.

There was no way in Hell that you would get between him and his job, so you made the toughest decision, probably of your entire life. You have to break up with him.

You made sure everything was ready by the time he got back to your shared apartment. Dinner was made, the space was cleaned, the table was set, and your head was a mess.

He greeted you with the most loving smile as he walked in the door, which only made a pit form in your stomach. How are you supposed to end things with the person you love most in the world?

Halfway through dinner you decided to start, “Jake, about your job,”

“Yeah, isn’t it amazing, baby?”

“It is so amazing and I am so happy for you because you deserve this more than anyone,” you trailed off and he picked up on your tone.

“But you don’t think I should take the offer?”

“No! No, that’s not it. I think you should take the offer. But I also think we should break up,” you whispered the last part into an almost silent room.

Jake dropped his fork immediately and froze, “Excuse me?”

“I think we should break up. I’m holding you back Jake, I don’t want to get in between you and what you love most,”

“Baby, you are what I love most,”

“Jake, please just listen. I love you so much and you know I only want the absolute best for you. And I think this is the best option for you, for us.”

Jake stood abruptly and paced around the small living room. He didn’t say a word.

“Please say something,” you stood closely behind him.

“We’re not breaking up,”

“You have to take this job, it’s everything you’ve been working up to and I am not going to be the one to hold you back and—“ he cut you off sharply with a kiss and mumbled into your mouth.

“I would never leave you,” he nipped at your jawline and the higher parts of your neck.

This could not be happening right now. This was not how this night was supposed to go, but you couldn’t stop a slight moan escaping from your lips. If you were going to leave him, you felt like you deserved one more time with him.

You pushed him away to hold his face. You looked into his eyes, then found his lips, and kissed them roughly, “Please Jake, I need you, one last time,”

That’s all he needed to hear and he had you in his arms, carrying you to your shared bedroom. He tossed you on the bed, practically ripping his shirt off, he hovered above you, taking your shirt and bra off next.

He sucked on your chest, leaving love bites on the very top of your breasts. “I’m going to fuck you stupid until you get this idea of you holding me back out of your head.”

He moved down to your shorts, pulling them off as quickly as possible, taking your underwear with them.

He kissed the insides of your thighs, making his was up to your core.

He removed his mouth and let two of his fingers press inside of you. He kissed up your stomach as he pumped his fingers deep inside of you and relished in the way you were almost incoherently moaning.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he held down your hips as he began to lightly suck on your clit. You couldn’t help but let out a pornographic moan.

You didn’t mean to feel the need to release so quickly but you couldn’t help it. You wanted every part of him and you didn’t want to leave him.

He quickened his pace causing you to scream out with pleasure. He pulled his fingers from you and sucked your juices off his hand.

He unbuckled his belt and yanked down his pants, pulling out his hard length. He teased your entrance with his cock, slapping the surface lightly. You were almost a whimpering mess underneath him.

He finally pushed into, both of you letting out a long noise of satisfaction. Jake murmured curses of pleasure under his breath and his thrusted into you.

He had you on your back, your legs on either side of him. He pulled your legs to wrap around his waist and thrusted into you harder.

Jake was now leaning completely over you, his hand on either sides of your breasts, him kissing down your neck, and his stupidly hot dog tags dangling over you as you practically screamed out for him.

He pulled back from your neck and started kissing down your chest again, loving the way your boobs moved as he fucked you into the mattress.

Your nails dig into his back as he starts thrusting at a faster pace.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so good for me,” God he may as well just get you pregnant at this point.

You started to feel a build in your stomach, again. You could tell he was close too because his thrusts started to falter.

He began to pull out to cum, when you tugged him closer to you, keeping him inside. He looked at you with a hunger as you both reached your climax, crying out profanities.

He hung his head low until flipping you over until you were sitting on top of him. He pushed himself up the bed, propping himself up, you still on top.

Holding down your hips, a firm grip on them, you began to bounce up and down on his cock. He finally speaks for the first time, rebounding from the babbling mess you had made of him earlier.

“Baby, I’m not leaving you here,”

You wrapped you arms around his neck for a steadier ride. “Jake-“

“I don’t care, I will turn it down,”

“Absolutely not,” you began to bob faster as you got more flustered, “I want you to go, Jake,”

“I want you to go with me, I thought that was a given,”

“But my job, we can’t afford for only one of us to work,”

He moved his hands up and down your torso, grabbing and squeezing at your tits.

“Yes we can, I have a trust fund, I’ll make sure you never work another day in you entire life. I’ll make you my wife so you can live on base. Or we don’t have to live on base, I’ll buy us a mansion and whatever you want in it.”

There was nothing hotter than seeing the man you love offer to take care of you for the rest of your lives. You want to be with him so bad.

You want every part of him. His highs, his lows, his good days, his awful days, you want it all and everything in between.

Hearing him coax you down from the ledge only made you want him more. Pushing you over the edge of another orgasm. He took you lips with his as you finished for the third time, him for the second.

You pulled away off of him and curled up by his side, resting your head on his chest. He wrapped his arm around your body and kissed your forehead gently, “I promise I’ll take care of you, baby. Don’t worry about any of this,”

“I want to go with you, Jake, if you’ll have me,”

“I want you more than anything on this entire planet, and don’t you doubt it for a second that I would never leave you,”

You pressed a chaste kiss to his jawline, whispering close to him, “I love you, Jake.”

He looked down at you with gentlest expression you’ve ever seen and kissed you again, “I love you and I’m never letting you go.”

It was time to start a new chapter with the love of your life, (and Jake was right, he did fuck you stupid until you dropped the idea of you burdening him and holding him back).

[ughkat]

crush | c.t.h

part two

part one here

{ probably gonna turn this into a series so be patient for a part 3! }

cal x fem!reader

fluff?, kissing, drinking

not proofread

-

"You should text Cal."...

I sat still in my bed, looking at my screen in confusion at Ashton's text. My brain unbelievably pieced together his distant attitude being tied to an attraction towards me. I furrowed my eyebrows and bit the inside of my cheek with doubt. There was no way he had a crush on me. I would know, right?

I hesitantly exited my messages with Ashton, scrolling to mine with Calum. Looking at my screen aimlessly, my thumbs shifted over the empty text box, thinking of something to say. I didn't want to scare him off, so I started simple.

"Hey"

I typed slowly, pressing send with shaky hands. I knew my nervousness wasn't stemmed from talking Calum himself, but more of finding out the full truth from him personally. Three dots appeared quickly, making my leg bounce with anxiety.

"Hi"

He responded flatly. I sighed at his dry tone. I knew his stubbornness would aide for an inconclusive conversation, so I decided to jump right in.

"What did Ashton mean before he ended the stream?" I sent the text hesitant, trying my best to sound nonchalant.

"Idk what you're talking about lol.".

His pathetic attempt at minor gaslighting me failed, I continued to push.

"Yes you do. Correct me if I'm wrong but he said you're mad at me because you love me?"

"Of course I love you. We all love you, you're my best friend."

I tossed my head back in frustration, rethinking my own suspicions. I realized I wasn't going to get what I wanted from him through a text, so I tried something else.

"Can we hangout tomorrow, just us? I feel like we need it."

I typed genuinely, knowing if he was telling the truth, he'd oblige. As the two of us hanging out alone used to be a common occurrence.

"You have work tomorrow."

He tried to think of a get away.

"I get off at 6. I'll see you after?"

I typed, giving him almost no choice but to see me. I watched patiently has I was left on read for a few minutes before Calum replied.

"I'm bringing drinks."

I smirked at his usual sass and need for a substance to calm his obvious.

" :) see you tomorrow."

I replied before switching my phone off and setting it beside me. I couldn't help but let butterflies slowly fill my stomach at the thought of myself making Calum flustered. For years, though I always found him attractive and had an underlying physical draw to him, I never imagined him more than anything than a friend. But I started to wonder if that was because I wanted it that way, or because I thought it had to be that way.

I began to doubt my own feelings towards Calum as I stared blankly at my wall in front of me. I bit my cheek as I reminisced on past memories and emotions throughout the years with Calum. I realized I never gave the thought of Calum as more than a friend a chance only for the wellness of our friendship as a group.

I stopped my thoughts in their tracks, snapping out of my trance and reminding myself that Calum hadn't confirmed nor denied his attraction to me yet, and I still could have simply misheard Ashton over my phone speaker. I settled deeply into my bed, letting my eyes flutter shut as I reassured myself of the pros and cons of tomorrows plans.

The sounds of footsteps and the occasional phone ringing filled the silence around me as I sat in boredom at my job. I had 15 minutes left of my shift, and all I could think about was the boy I would be meeting with when I got home. I tapped a pen mindlessly on the desk in front of me, my hours going by quickly while I let my mind wander about Calum.

On the dot, 6:00 rolled around and I began packing my belongings into my bag to head out to my car. I reached for my phone on my way out of the doors to reveal a message from Calum.

"Let me know when you're home.".

I caught myself smiling at his straight words, tucking my phone back into my pocket. I hurried quickly to my car, tossing my bag into the passenger seat before pulling out into the road.

I scolded myself mentally during my drive for beginning to fantasize about the possibilities with Calum and I. A smile escaped my lips at the idea of hearing Ashton's words correctly, and Calum really liking me.

Arriving home, I quickly raced to my bedroom, changing out of my work clothes and into black pajama shorts and oversized t-shirt. Leaving my makeup how it was, I pulled my hair out of its ponytail, running my hands through the tangles as I made my way to my bed, opening my phone.

"I'm home"

I sent a simple text to Calum before laying out on my back across my bed, letting out a tired breath. I rolled my ankles lazily, taking in the comfort of my bed before a single ding rang from my phone.

"Omw."

I bounced my leg anxiously awaiting Calum's arrival. Suddenly, it was like I was meeting him for the first time. I began to do things I wouldn't before think twice about. I checked my appearance multiple times in the mirror, made my bed, and tidied up my room. All things that I never cared about the boys, including Calum, minding before.

A few quiet knock fell at my front door, making me jolt from my frantic fidgeting. I calmly made my way to the front door, opening it to reveal Calum carrying a single plastic grocery bag.

"I have drinks and snacks." He lifted the bag slightly, speaking with a half smile. I stepped to the side, inviting him in. Already, I could sense his tense energy. I led him to the couch, I felt my heartbeat pick up its pace at the feeling of him so close behind me.

We took our seats beside each other, Calum leaving an awkwardly large space between us.

"Beer?" Calum offered blankly, reaching for the 6 pack of beer. I shook my head, more focused on the subject matter on my mind.

"No, thanks.".

"Wanna watch a movie or something?" He asked, forcing a fake civil smile.

The two of us sat sharing a glance for a moment before I took the wheel impatiently.

"I know you're lying." I spoke, looking down at my hands. Calum turned his head towards me quickly.

"What?"

"You're lying." I repeated, looking at his with a frustrated smile, "I know what heard on that stream, Cal." I leaned deeper into the couch, watching Calum's eyes dart across the room. He let out a sigh, appearing to be trying to gather his words.

"What do you want me to say?" He muttered quietly, making eye contact loosely. I looked down to my hands before back up to him through my eyelashes cautiously, watching his anxious expression.

"Is it true?" I spoke almost at a whisper, picking at my thumbs anxiously. He looked at me slowly, swallowing a lump in his throat before speaking deeply.

"What if it is?" He shrugged gently. I let out a sigh at his small confession, relieved at his words, yet finding myself in another boat of confusion.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" I spoke, moving closer to him, feeling my energy being pulled towards his. He looked away as I got closer, becoming visually nervous. Looking back at me, he replied.

"I wanted to at first" He began, "But I kept ignoring it after some years. I was scared of what you'd say." He mumbled.

"And Ashton knew all this time" I continued, tilting my head. He looked down.

"Yeah, he thought you wouldn't feel the same either.".

We sat quietly in each others silence for a moment, sharing glances and collecting our thoughts. I felt myself warm up inside at the confessions coming from Calum, guiding my next few bold moves.

"Cal." I spoke with a smile, moving in closer. His head perked up quickly at my movements.

"Hm?" He muttered quietly.

"You should've told me sooner." I began softly.

"Why..?" He furrowed his eyebrows, his eyes darting to mine back and forth.

My eyes were stuck in a trance deeply into his sparking brown ones, and my mind took control. Without thinking, I leaned in quickly, pressing my lips to his passionately. He released a small gasp before swiftly closing his eyes, melting into the kiss as well. I pulled back quickly with semi wide eyes, looking at Calum nervously. His mouth was half agape, searching for his words. I watched his shocked expression and loss for words, instantly doubting my actions.

"I-." I started, looking down, "I'm sorry Cal, I do-" I was abruptly cut off by Calum pulling me in for another kiss, holding the side of my face with a gentle hand. I chill ran through me as our lips intertwined perfectly, making me melt under his touch. His mouth on mine was the deciding factor that I wanted every bit of Calum, in every way, all of the time.

He pulled away slowly, looking at me adoringly in the eyes. A smile escaped his lips, followed by us giggling in unison at our impulsive actions.

"Was that so hard?" I teased lightly, filled with joy at the breakthrough Calum had made.

"If I knew this was gonna' happen, I definitely would have told you sooner." He joked with a scoff. I giggled, leaning back into the couch with a sigh.

"Was this your plan the whole time?" He asked smugly, narrowing his eyes. I rolled my eyes, shaking my head.

"No, actually." I laughed, "I came into this blind. Didn't have a plan." I reached for a beer from the coffee table in front of us, cracking it open swiftly and taking a sip. Calum rolled his head back lazily on the couch before speaking.

"In all realness though, I really do like you," He began, "Like, a lot. And I have for a really long time." I began to confess slowly as he joined me with a drink.

"How long?" I asked genuinely, I turned to look at him as he continued.

"Ever since Ash started bringing you around, really. Truthfully, you're one of the most beautiful girls i've ever met, Y/n." He chuckled with embarrassment, looking down to his drink. I blushed uncontrollably at his words, mimicking his actions and looking down.

"Whatever." I giggled at his hyperbole of my description. How could someone as fit as Calum find me to be the most beautiful girl he's ever met?

"It's true." He urged, "Ever since I laid eyes on you, I wanted you to be mine." He spoke boldly. I turned to him with a serious expression, shocked by his words.

"Really?" I mumbled quietly. He nodded his head with a shy smile

An uncontrollable grin took over me, immediately noticing the change in energy. Calum seemed to be slowly resuming his usual self, only leaving me with one question. What now?

[sunflowersandsapphires]

The Sun Will Rise

Wake Up, Chapter 8

Series Masterlist           Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: In an attempt to stop the advances of an unwanted suitor, Matt Murdock accidentally condemns you to being his fake girlfriend.

warnings: sexual assault themes and descriptions, if non-con themes trigger you please do not read. other warnings: swearing, misogynistic language, violence

This chapter is very intense. I tried to keep the S/A stuff as not graphic as possible to avoid triggering people but it is very much there and the violence is more present than any other chapter.

a/n: Today has been a fucking DAY yall. My new cat got sick (he’s ok he just ate too fast and then got sick on me and my bed which was gross), I am having issues with pay equity at work, and trying to deal with utility issues in my house. I am very sorry for the late update. PLEASE let me know how you feel about this chapter, your comments and reblogs literally make my day every week. 

w/c: ~4.5k

Four years ago, you’d been desperate for a change.  Despite spending thousands on a fancy degree, you had gotten nowhere in the legal field and your job waiting tables at a diner in Queens barely paid the bills, though you were grateful for the work. 

Pouring coffee and taking orders wasn’t the worst job you’d ever had and the majority of customers during your shifts were sweet. You played the role of “cute, friendly waitress” well, making even the grouchiest patrons appreciate your soft smile and quick response time. Maybe this persona you’d adopted in your efforts to avoid your crippling anxiety was the reason he started looking your way. Perhaps it was your obvious desperation to be liked. Whatever it was that drew his attention, it was your eventual disinterest that kept it. 

The first day you met James Lannister was a shitty one. You’d worked a double shift, meaning you had been less than perky towards the end of it, leading to stupid mistakes and screaming customers. Emotions were running high when he took a seat in your section, so his calm demeanor and attentive smile drew you in. 

He’d only made pleasant conversation with you the first few visits. Asking about your day, your week, your hobbies, your interests, your family, your aspirations. Anyone would’ve been eager to spill their guts to him, he was quite charming. The way that his green eyes pooled with fascination as you spoke was almost reverent. No man in your life had ever made you feel that way, like nothing else in the room mattered. 

Which is why the red flags zipped right by you without triggering your internal security system. Day after day, he’d visit your place of work after his own shift at the Pro Bono Association. He’d ask his questions and encourage you to ask your own, which led to a standing invitation to sit with him when there was a lull in traffic at the restaurant. Your shared interest in the legal system and his willingness to share a slice of that life with you compelled you to take him up on the offer. 

Next came the gifts. Little things, at first. Large tips, suggestions for weekend entertainment complete with a gift card or fully funded ticket, books to further your legal studies after work. It was strange, but the attention was divine. He wasn’t an ugly man, and you’d never felt noticed like this before. 

Eventually, he’d goaded you into joining him and his wife for dinner at their house. Mrs. Lannister was beautiful and cunning. On the surface, she was always polite, reassuring, more than willing to host you or have you join them in public, but there was an ominous undercurrent that you never could place. The way she looked at you when her husband turned his back was almost murderous, but you were so caught up in the idea of being wanted that you glossed over the tension between the two of you. 

You were lonely, sure, but you never wanted romance or…other things…from Lannister. To you, he was a mentor, an idol. Someone to live vicariously through while in a transition period in life. But after accepting all of his kindnesses, you’d unknowingly crossed a line. 

Before it all fell apart, it almost seemed like universal intervention. During a seemingly mundane conversation, Lannister clasped his hands over yours with a giddy expression. It seemed that there was an entry level position opening up at the PBA office in Queens and he thought you’d be perfect for it. Not only would it be a substantial pay raise from your current position, but there were opportunities for growth and he would be your boss. 

At the time, it felt like a miracle. Your ticket to the next stage of your life. And it was, but letting your guard down for that shark ended up being the biggest regret of your life. 

Transitioning into your new role wasn’t seamless, but you took it in stride. Your eagerness to take on complex projects and expand the mission of the organization impressed the more seasoned employees. Lannister began taking you to lunches, galas, drinks, anywhere that he could introduce you to his network of attorneys. It was thrilling to be thrown into the world you’d always dreamed of and received with such open arms. 

For a few months, it was pure bliss. Until the night you placed your first case. 

Placing the case itself was unproblematic, you were happy that you fit into the role so well—and you expressed such sentiments to Lannister who invited you over to his house to celebrate. Arriving with a bottle of your favorite wine, it was immediately clear that something had changed. The once cozy house was in absolute disarray, riddled with empty liquor bottles and boxes of feminine clothes. And, although Lannister had implied there would be others there, you found him alone. 

Lannister noticed your wandering eyes and explained that his wife had left him. He told you not to worry about that and to focus on your personal success. The two of you enjoyed some good food and cheap wine, the older man drifting closer by the glass. Eventually, you felt your eyes growing heavy and he insisted that you stay over given the late hour. 

That night, you dreamt of a large shadow, looking over you while you slept, warm touch dancing over your clothes. You tried to protect yourself, but your arms wouldn’t respond to the commands your brain sent. When you woke up, you found your skirt unzipped. 

It got blurry after that. Lannister’s very public divorce led to inopportune inebriation, massive hangovers in the office, lewd comments, and wandering hands. While you still accompanied him to events, he began claiming you in public in increasingly repulsive ways. Holding you by the waist, kissing your cheeks, stroking his fingers over your neck, using that disgusting pet name. My little Princess. 

You only tried expressing your discomfort once before it escalated. You’d approached him in his office after lunch, when he was likely to be more sober, and hesitantly asked if he would consider pulling back. You’d been met with the most terrifying display of anger you’d ever seen. You hazily recall books being thrown, hits landing along your arms and torso, insults being hurled at you. 

He had made you. You would be nothing without him. You were ungrateful and whoreish and conniving just like his wife. While the memories faded, the scars from your skin splitting over the hinges of his office door still shone in certain lights. 

After that his actions were deliberate. His lingering touches scalded you. Being alone with him meant sentencing yourself to torture. When he was angry, he’d call you into his office to “talk it through.” To your absolute horror, these talks often involved a locked door and drunk hands groping your trembling form. 

For weeks you endured his abrupt switches between calculated insults, physical abuse, emotional manipulation, and inappropriate contact. You were barely alive, going through the motions and slowly convincing yourself that you deserved it. You’d fallen out of contact with your friends, were so emotionally fragile that a stern look from a stranger could send you into a panic attack, and you found yourself so nauseous that the first few hours of each day were spent hugging a toilet. 

It was clear you needed help, but Lannister was your boss and his threats terrified you. He’d made it clear that if anyone found out about his behavior, it would cost you your livelihood. As an incredibly well-known attorney with an impeccable record, there was no way you’d win in court, he had too many friends on the force or the bench. Not to mention how new you were to the organization. Despite his growing alcoholism, your coworkers were as enamored with Lannister as you used to be, the chances of them believing you were minimal. 

So, you stayed, trapped in a nightmare of your own unintentional creation. Until a position opened up in Manhattan. 

Applying on a whim, you’d kept your application a secret, not expecting to even get an interview. But, apparently the managing attorney across the East River had heard your name through the grapevine because she reached out within the week to schedule a lunch with you. 

The heavy weight that hung over your shoulders like a shadow has lessened considerably in the days leading up to the lunch. The possibility of escaping the hell you were living in quickly appeared like the light at the end of the tunnel. 

Manhattan was beautiful and the employees of the PBA office in Midtown were ecstatic to meet you. It was the best day you’d had in months, until you got back to your own office. 

Realizing you’d forgotten an important file you needed for a clinic the next day, you walked briskly through the quiet building, hoping to get in and out without running into your supervisor. Unfortunately, the world was not that gracious. 

As you rummaged through your desk, the overhead lights turned on making you flinch. Your hands stilled over the file cabinet, your breath catching on your throat. 

“You little bitch.” Lannister was furious if the rage dripping from his tone was any indication. “Tell me, Princess, why did I receive a call from Midtown about how happy they were to have finally met my assistant?”

You couldn’t speak, your throat constricting as if wrapped with fabric. Frozen in place, you heard him approaching and you cowered. 

“Thought you could go behind my back? Leave me high and dry without a warning? You owe me, little princess. After all I’ve done for you…”

Whether from fear or something else entirely, your brain blocked out the rest of his actions that night. You came to shaking on the floor, bloody and partially undressed, but you weren’t alone. Lannister had disappeared, thankfully, but your coworker stepped into your office with a shaky inhale. 

Erica was a young attorney who’d started a few weeks before you. Your emotional state had made it difficult to grow close to anyone in the office, but she’d always seemed sweet. And, fortunately for you in the end, she’d heard the commotion your boss had caused before storming home. 

As your wonderful coworker helped you clean yourself up, you tearily confessed the secrets you’d worked so hard to hide. Disgusted, Erica had encouraged you to speak to HR and you’d submitted a complaint later that day with her assistance. 

You owed Erica a great debt. Over the period of the investigation, she’d become a fixture in your office, making sure to keep you at a distance from your abuser. Without your prompting, she’d offered the committee looking into the allegations her full testimony. You were quite certain that her statement is the reason Lannister was fired. 

In the weeks following his termination, you felt like a new woman. You’d moved to a cute little place in Hell’s Kitchen and begun your new work as a volunteer coordinator. While you still struggled with crowds of lawyers and the taste of alcohol, a good therapist and a decent amount of time had helped you heal a considerable amount. 

Enough to open yourself up for the possibility of a relationship, which you weren’t sure you’d ever want after everything you’d been through. Meeting Matt had changed that though, turning ‘never’ into a ‘not right now’. 

Sweet, considerate, adorable Matt who had brought you more comfort than you ever thought you deserved. Who was probably still furious with you for falling for him, but you couldn’t help but plead with the universe to send him anyway. Please, Matty, please come for me. 

As the muggy van rumbled over potholes and uneven roads, you pictured his beautiful face. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. How his brow furrowed with concern over the most minor harm that had befallen you. The beautiful way his lips melded with yours as a single kiss made you feel weightless. You regretted not kissing him one last time before ruining what you had. 

I’m sorry, darling. Please don’t let them take me from you. I’m not ready to let you go just yet. 

As Matt neared the 4th floor, a knawing pit of dread grew in his stomach. He could smell your tears, newer than those that had fallen after he’d left, but your heartbeat was nowhere to be found. Frantically pacing the hallway, he quickly noticed your suitcase abandoned a few feet from the door to your shared room. Crouching down, he tilted his head, evaluating the scene. The scent of your fear coated the floor, walls, and fabric of your bag. You must have been terrified for it to penetrate your surroundings to that degree. Underneath your pheromones, Matt shuddered with rage as the sickly saccharine fragrance of Beatrice Snyder’s reached his sensitive nose. Mingling with her perfume was a different smell, smoky and dark. 

You’d been cornered by Snyder and an unidentified man, he was sure of it. Fumbling to find the right end of his key card, he threw open the door and stripped out of his suit. Given that he’d intended to share the night with you, he’d intentionally left his body armor at home. A black long sleeve tee and scarf around his face would have to do tonight. 

Stepping back into the empty hallway, he fled to the stairs. While the scent of your fear only fueled his dark anger, it was strong enough to leave a trail down the stairs and out the back door into the cool night air. As inconspicuously as possible, Matt navigated through the building, dodging employees and guests successfully until he reached the loading dock behind the kitchen. Your scent stopped here, replaced by the smell of gasoline. 

No, no, no. Where are you, angel? What happened to you? 

Matt growled in frustration, spinning around desperately searching for any sign of you, he ripped his phone out of his pocket and pressed your speed dial, hoping that you could still reach your phone. 

Receiving nothing but your voicemail message in return, he felt his fists clench. “It’s going to be ok, my beautiful girl. I’m coming.” 

Replacing the phone in his pocket, he took off in the direction of the strong scent of auto fuel, praying to God that the most recent vehicle would lead him to you. 

The van jolted to an abrupt stop and you slid along the dirty carpet into a seat in front of you. Your back ached from the jostling you’d gotten on the ride to whatever destination you’d apparently arrived at, and you could feel the imprint of thousands of plastic carpet strands that had melded with the flesh on your cheek during the drive. The sound of car doors slamming and the heavy footfalls following made you strain against your binds one final time. 

A large, rough hand snatched your ankle, yanking you towards the night air at the tail end of the vehicle. Kicking your legs wildly, you flopped like a dying fish along the carpet as you were slowly pulled outside. The fingers at your ankle moved to wrap around your throat, forcing the airway to constrict. Struggling fiercely against your captor, you heard a familiar, rasping voice from behind you snarl, “Shut her up, you idiot!” 

Lannister’s goon pressed a sharp implement against the soft flesh of your stomach. “Keep movin’ and you’ll lose a lot more than your man, bitch.” 

As your squirming died down, reality set in and tears began flooding down your face. It was over. He’d won. All of the efforts that went into putting distance between the two of you were meaningless. He’d found you, and Snyder was going to take Matt from you because of it. 

You were roughly stood on your feet and forced to move in the trail of Lannister and his other goon. Eventually, you were forced into a cold metal chair, binds attached to the stiff bars of the furniture. Your blindfold was ripped off, though your gag remained. James Lannister’s ferocious grin appeared in your line of vision, making you flinch. “So glad we’ve been reunited, Princess. We’re gonna have some fun.” 

The group had taken you to what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse. There were broken wooden palettes and scraps of steel scattered around the floor. Holes in the sheet metal walls allowed cold, winter air to blow crisp waves of wind through the space, raising the hairs on your neck. A gaping hole in the roof above you showers you in moonlight, illuminating a small s circle around you and Lannister. 

A knife glinted in your peripheral vision and you whimpered, squirming involuntarily. Lannister grabbed a fistful of your shirt, yanking you forward with a growl. “The more you squirm, the more damage I do, little princess. I’d hold still if I were you.” 

With that warning, he slashed a jagged cut in your top, nicking the skin along your collarbone. A hand ran over your hair, grasping the strands and tugging so that your face was turned towards your captor’s once again. “There’s my obedient little pet. Was wondering where she’d gone.” 

Bile rose in your throat as Lannister stroked his massive hands along your face, planting heated, bourbon-soaked kisses along your neck and down your chest. Prying away your torn clothes, he turned to face the goons. “Is it ready?” 

“Yes, sir.” One deep voice responded from the shadows of the warehouse beyond your visible surroundings. “Before I have my fun,” Lannister stepped aside, revealing a tall dark shape topped with a blinking red light. “I’d like to record a confession, dear. For my sanity, and for the board to know the truth.” 

Raising his barely slurred voice, he turned to the camera. 

“State your name, for the record.”

“Please don’t do this. I don’t—“ Your pleading morphed into a screech of pain as the point of the blade ripped a gash in the exposed skin of your shoulder. 

“Wrong answer, pet.” Lannister took a swig from a practically empty bottle of liquor that had seemingly materialized out of thin air. A trail of blood wormed its way to the cement floor, pooling at your feet. You stared at the river of red liquid for a moment before stammering out your name. 

“That’s a good pet. What’s your relation to me, my dear?” Chucking the now empty bottle aside, it shattered at your feet, spraying you with cheap alcohol and pieces of glass. 

“I worked with you. In Queens.” A smaller knife plunged into the meat of your thigh and you screamed in agony. The larger of the two goons shuffled into your wavering vision, smiling as he wiped your blood from his hands. 

“More specific, Princess.” Lannister spat at you. 

“You were my boss.” 

“That’s right. Now tell us, how did you get me fired?” 

You sobbed, “I didn’t, I wasn’t—“ Grasping the knife still planted in your leg, Lannister twisted it, grabbing your throat. 

“Yes you did, you miserable bitch. You ruined my fucking life. I lost my divorce settlement, my job, my house, my reputation. All because I took an ungrateful slut under my wing.” Ripping the blade from your body, he hurled you to the ground. 

“TELL THE TRUTH!” Lannister roared, sending a brutal kick into your chest and knocking the air from your lungs. “Tell them that you seduced me for months and then used me to land a promotion. TELL THEM THAT YOU TOOK MY ENTIRE LIFE FROM ME AFTER I’D GIVEN YOU EVERYTHING!”

Stomping over your body again, he stumbled backwards allowing you to cough out a response. “I—I took everything f-from you. I was un-ungrateful.” 

Lannister cackled, pulling you from the ground by your uninjured arm. “Turn the camera off. They won’t want to see this next part.” 

The goons stepped forward to follow your former boss’s orders, but a piercing sound from outside halted them in their tracks. A horrific shriek, the sound of metal grinding on metal, echoed through the warehouse. All three men froze, looking to each other as if expecting to find the cause of the noise at the hands of their fellow assholes. Dropping you hard onto your shoulder, Lannister turned towards the source of the creaking and your head lolled after him.

As the door to the warehouse slammed open, you cried in relief as your weak gaze made out the black clad figure against the night sky. Daredevil. Your devil. He came for you. Tears poured down your cheeks and your limbs tensed, Matt’s presence drawing you in like a magnet. 

Lannister huffs out a laugh. “The fuck do you want, shadow man? Don’t you have robberies to stop?” At his sides, the other men shuffled nervously, knives gripped firmly as they awaited their next command. 

Matt stalked forward into the warehouse, his body stiff as it held his rage back, visible tension like that of water building against a dam. Fists clenched, he prowled an arc around your three kidnappers. “Step the fuck away from her.” His deep timbre was pitched exceedingly low with pure fury and it sent ripples of goosebumps across your bare skin. 

Drawing the handgun from the back pocket of his slacks, Lannister stepped towards you once more. “Do your worst, Devil. She’s not leaving here alive.” The world slowed, as if the air around you was suddenly thick as molasses. Your eyes were processing as much as they could as dread settled in your stomach. The barrel of the gun moved across Lannister’s body and pointed at you as his meaty thumb cocked the weapon. 

Simultaneously, Matt’s athletic form rocketed forward, skillfully dodging the swings from both of your unnamed assailants and leaping at Lannister. A gunshot rang and you traced the bullet as it soared towards you. Suddenly, your vision went white as pain seared through your body following the pointed metal cylinder as it tore through your abdomen. Screaming in anguish, your ears rang with a high pitched tone, the flash of white across your sight fading to black. The only thing you could focus on was the burning agony as the puddle of your blood seeped into your torn clothes. Forcefully shutting your eyes, your inhales turned shallow, and you prayed to your beloved Matthew that he would get you out of here before you took your last breath. 

Matt’s skin was alight with rage as he maniacally tore through the three brutes to reach your collapsed form. The head captor’s words barely registered in his ears over the deafening sound of a gun being pulled. No. Do not let it be her, take me. The safety was undone as Matt ripped one man’s shoulder from its socket, using the falter in his steps to knock him unconscious. He needed to be faster. He had to reach you. Planting a hefty kick into the next guy’s stomach, he brought his billy club up to meet the force of the man’s own body weight bringing him down. A hollow thud of a body on cement meant there was one attacker left. And then came the gunshot. 

As the bullet escaped the barrel it was encased in, Matt roared, the devil inside him fully consuming his consciousness as tackled the shooter. Knuckles connected with a jawbone, then the softer cartilage of a nose, then the lumpy space of a rib cage. Matt poured every emotion he had into this criminal, each punch holding seeds of guilt and regret and desperation. 

The smell of your blood cascading over the dirty floor broke him from his trance. Dropping the battered body of your captor to the floor, he dove beside you, hands hovering over your body as he assessed the damage. 

Sobbing in relief, he cupped your face as gently as he could. “It’s ok, angel. You’re gonna be ok. They’re not gonna hurt you anymore. Just breathe with me, please sweetness, breathe.” 

Your shallow pants stuttered as your hand weakly grasped his shirt. “Ma-Matty?” 

“Yah sweetness, it’s me. I’m right here. Gonna get you out of here, ok? Just hold on.” Ripped a strip of fabric from his shirt, he pressed it over your largest wound, biting back a pained sound of his own when you hissed. “I know, I know, angel. I have to stop the bleeding.” 

The soft smell of salt melded with the metallic odor of your blood. You were crying, holding on to the fistful of his shirt like it was a lifeline. “Y-you came for me? I’m—I’m so-sorry” 

Stroking your face lightly before he dialed 911, he cooed. “Of course I came, lovely. I’ll always come for you. Always. Now you just focus on breathing. In and out, sweetness. Good girl, just like that.” 

At the operator’s greeting, he spit out a rough command for police and an ambulance, giving a brief description of the events that had happened. Next, he pleaded for their help. There was no way he alone could get you to a hospital in time. 

“They were holding her hostage. She’s been shot, stabbed too. Lost a lot of blood. She’s still alive but she needs medical attention, please hurry.” He spit out the approximate location, scrubbing tears from his face as he pocketed his phone. 

Pressing his forehead to yours delicately, he whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, my sweet girl. It’s going to be ok. I’m so sorry.” Your hand raised shakily to cradle his nape. 

“Matty,” Your voice was weak, but determined. “I—I need you to know—“ 

“Hey, this isn’t one of those moments, sweet girl. You can tell me later, when you’re healing. You focus on—“ 

“No, please.” You begged, he fought back a choked cry so that you could say your piece. 

“I love you. S-so much.” You heaved a breath.  “I’m sorry that I ruined—“

“Shh, you didn’t ruin anything.” Matt chided gently, tears slipping faster after you'd confirmed his previous mistake. “I love you too, my wonderful, sweet girl. I won’t let them take you from me. I won’t.” 

“I’m sorry.” You choked out, and then you fell out of consciousness. 

Matt collapsed against your chest, clinging to the sound of your weak pulse as his body trembled with sobs. He planted soft kisses to your hair and cheeks, stroking lightly over your skin as he willed God to save you. 

The distant sound of sirens forced Matt to pry his face from your pummeled body. As the sound of vehicles approached, he made sure to alert the paramedics to your presence before taking back to the shadows. Hearing the clamor of attendants around you, he made a promise. “I’ll be there when you wake, angel. I’m sorry.”

Taglist: @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @scoliobean @harperdoodle @mattkinsella @leikelle @sweetbee0108 @dark-night-sky-99 @fallen-angels2213 @will-delete-this-later-probably @cheshirecat484 @thornbushrose @vernon-dursley

[fereldanwench]

A Personal, and Final, Reflection on A Certain Fandom

Having spent the past week and a half away from the Tumblr side of the C*b*rp*nk community after a resurgence of old wank (not hashing out the details–IYKYK), I heavily weighed the pros and cons of saying anything else. Ultimately, I decided for my own peace of mind and ability to fully move forward, I do want to say a few things (or a lot of things, given how long this is). This blog is my personal archive first and foremost, and I think writing a “final chapter” will help me find closure. I’m also choosing to publish this because, at the risk of sounding presumptuous, I think my mistakes and subsequent revelations might be good learning experiences for others, too. 

Like many of us, just by the nature of when this game was released, I entered this fandom during a very fragile, tumultuous time in my life–Well, sort of, let me back it up a little: I actually initially entered it during a great time in my life. It was July 2021, I had just enjoyed about 6 weeks off from work after quitting a demanding job that had sucked the life out of me for almost 10 years, and I had started a promising new job. I even bought the game with the first paycheck from said new job!

Unfortunately, while I had been told that this position was temp-to-hire, not only was it not a path to a permanent role, but because I completed all the work in my contract over a month sooner than they anticipated (early September vs late October), I was being let go early because they had nothing else for me to work on. I was literally told over the phone, “You did amazing work, you got us caught up through November, but we don’t have anything else for you.”

Cue about 6 months of recruiters ghosting me, exhausting interview processes, demoralizing rejections, and scam upon scam upon scam, all culminating in me returning to the job I had been so happy to leave a year earlier. And while my old coworkers were ecstatic to have me back, I couldn’t help but feel like a complete failure. I took what I thought was a calculated risk, I thought I could do something better for myself, and I couldn’t. It’s something I’m still struggling with today, honestly.

On top of this, I also experienced a debilitating physical health episode in January 2022 which led to me being effectively bedridden for about 3 weeks. [CW: Menstruation, sexual health] I’m not sure of the exact cause–maybe a bad reaction to emergency contraception, maybe unsafe menstrual underwear, but it resulted in menorrhagia so severe I fainted from blood loss. My insurance had literally just ended, another wave of COVID was hitting, and I didn’t want to risk getting infected sitting in an ER for hours only to rack up a few thousand in debt to get a blood transfusion. So rest, iron supplements, and lots of meat and spinach and orange juice was the best I could do.

All of this led to my world becoming very small. I wasn’t working, I could barely do my hobbies or see my local friends, and simple everyday tasks like showering drained me of all my energy. When I was stuck in bed and could barely keep my eyes open for more than a few hours at a time, gossip was a welcome, low-effort distraction from the physical pain and fear that I might either have to put myself in thousands of dollars of medical debt or risk lifelong damage (or worse) from the blood loss.

I also found myself having groups of friends in a way I’ve never experienced before. I’m extremely introverted (even online, though less so than IRL), I have social anxiety, and the handful of times I have been “in” a group I was never really in it. I was always on the outskirts and usually just close to one or two people, max.

Regretfully, this set the stage for me to get caught up in the culture of rumors and speculation that permeates this fandom more than I think it has any other fandom I’ve been a part of.

Academically, I know about things like groupthink and tribalism, and I could see how those influenced the groups developing in the fandom, but I had no direct, personal experience with those phenomena. I think in conjunction with the other struggles I was dealing with, I ended up being incredibly susceptible to an us-versus-them mentality, which led me to feel justified in being unkind to people I knew had been unkind to my friends, even if deep down I knew what I was doing was antithetical to who I strive to be. 

I don’t share any of this for sympathy points or to smear anyone else or to avoid accountability–I still chose to act like an ass on a couple of occasions, and regardless of what I was going through, that was still inappropriate. I’m still responsible for my own behavior no matter what’s going on. 

But I do want to contextualize my fuck-ups for two reasons:

The first reason is ego-driven, full-stop. Not even gonna gloss it over. I can’t defend being an asshole nor do I want to, but I think it’s normal and healthy to look back on your mistakes and go, damn, why the hell was I acting like this? 

Even on my best days, I can be very stubborn and self-important and pedantic and judgemental, and I certainly can’t say that I’ve never inadvertently offended someone–Sometimes a joke might not land as I hoped. Sometimes I get tangled up in my own thoughts, burdened by an excess of nuance and details, and I express things poorly while I try to account for all sides of things. Sometimes I can get a little too opinionated about blorbo stuff. Sometimes there might just be a full communication breakdown or an insurmountable personality clash–But I can also confidently say that I have acted with good intentions in this fandom far, far more than I have with spite or because of petty rivalries.

And when I did get caught up in the drama and gossip and the wank? I was literally at the lowest point I’d been in a very, very long time. 

Again, because I feel like I can’t say this enough, that doesn’t make acting like a dick in a Discord server any more excusable, that doesn’t mean I didn’t hurt anyone, and that doesn’t mean that someone I hurt during that time has to forgive me or stick around for me to grow. Hurting someone because you’re hurting is still not okay. But I’m pretty sure every single one of us has had a bad day (or two or three or 365 or–) and made an isolated bad decision (or two or three or–) because of it–None of us deserve to be wholly defined by those moments or denied a chance to learn from those mistakes and be better.

And I think the most important takeaway for me personally is that I have learned from these mistakes and I have not repeated them. Some of these mistakes even helped me realize that I needed professional support for my mental health, and they played a role in my seeking medication and therapy last year. I still have a lot of work to do, but the silver lining to all of this is that I am in a much better place today than I was 2 years ago (even if this year also fucking sucks for non-fandom reasons and I would still very much like a goddamn break.)

The other reason I wanted to share my journey of navel-gazing and healing a wounded ego ~*self-discovery*~ is I think there’s a very good chance my story might sound familiar to others in the fandom. Maybe someone else can learn from my hardships and mistakes, too. Maybe you too were dealing with chronic fatigue or mental health issues or financial stress or isolation or all of the above and then some, and it led you to fixate on things that were harmful to you, to form unhealthy relationships with equally hurt people, and to act in a way that you know doesn't reflect who you are. The past several years have been so hard on so many of us, and I think we’ve all brought a lot of pain and misery into the community even if we weren’t trying to.

A somewhat shameful realization I had last year was I could recognize that kind of behavior in other people, but I completely missed it in myself. I could see how people were making this fandom their whole world and how it was so damaging to them, but I was doing the exact same thing and I just let it go completely unchecked because I thought I knew better. It was a brutal lesson in the pitfalls of pride. 

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So I was initially thinking at this point, I would take the time to address a few specific lies, rumors, and insinuations that have been said about me over the past couple of years. Because while I was a jerk in a couple of situations, most of the things said about me are exaggerations, if not outright fabrications.

And I did start writing a lot of that out, but as I was doing it, I was just overcome with a huge feeling of OH MY GOD I just don’t fucking care anymore. As one of my dear, long-time fandom friends has pointed out, there’s a great line about just this kind of thing from one of my favorite characters in one of my favorite games: “Why should it [bother me]? They don’t know me. I know me.”

I also really don’t want to run the risk of pulling anyone back into the fray (especially if they’re not even in the fandom anymore or if we’ve talked privately about certain issues) by even alluding to shit that happened years ago.

Instead, I would like to offer three of my big takeaways from the experience of being falsely accused of awful things:

You do not know nearly as much as you think you know about people’s fandom relationships. The one semi-specific thing I will mention is that I had been explicitly named a few times as being in cahoots with people I don’t think I ever even spoke to or that I had already drifted away from–Just because you saw two people existing in the same public space doesn’t mean they’re besties, bestie. Also, friends don’t always have to agree with each other, nor should we be expected to participate in a public spectacle of shaming if we do have a disagreement. People are allowed to resolve their differences privately.  

Not all conflicts/disagreements are inherently abusive or toxic. When you are hurting or dealing with unresolved trauma or starting to confront uncomfortable truths about yourself, the slightest disagreement can feel like a personal attack, but that doesn’t mean it is. Sometimes differences might be irreconcilable, but sometimes they might not be if you don’t automatically assume the worst of someone with a different perspective than you. Sometimes we just need to give the other person a little grace and the benefit of the doubt that they’re doing their best. And sometimes we might need to consider that it’s actually our own behavior driving the conflict and not the other person.

Even in situations when someone has clearly been unfairly targeted/victimized, that doesn’t mean they can’t also be a perpetrator of harassment/abuse to someone else. Victim and abuser are not mutually exclusive roles. I would wager a lot of us are familiar with the cyclical nature of abuse, and to quote a line from one of my favorite movies (admittedly a bit of a flippant line in the context of the film, but it still rings true): hurt people hurt people. Accountability for shitty behavior is never conditional, regardless of the pain we’re experiencing. 

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I titled this my final reflection, and I want to clarify what that means:

First of all, I’m not leaving this fandom (don’t everyone clap at once ha ha ha). I’ve been in various online fandoms since the early 00s, and while this has been one of the more challenging communities for me to navigate, it’s not enough to make me give up something I love this much. My blorbos are my perpetual muses, and I feel like virtual photography is the creative outlet I’ve been searching for my entire life. I love this game and hobby too much to stop creating and sharing.

I’m also not leaving Tumblr. While I’ve had this specific account since 2016, I’ve been here since 2010–Tumblr is not just this fandom for me. I have many friends (some I’ve known since my original account in 2010!) from other fandoms, and I’m not losing the best place to hang out with other people who are special to me just because one fandom got a little unpleasant. (I mean, look, I weathered the DA fandom here circa 2012-2015–This ain’t my first rodeo.) I also have a lot of hope for the Tumblr Communities feature, and I’m really hoping the VP community we’ve set up can continue to grow and flourish.

But I am no longer addressing any of this wank. If you have a problem with something I’ve done or said to you and you want to address it with me directly (preferably in a private space just so we don’t keep putting this shit on people’s dashboards), I am open to conversation and apologizing where needed.

Otherwise, this is the last time I’m talking about it anywhere. Tumblr, Twitter, Discord, publicly, privately–I’m done. I’m washing my hands of it. I don’t want to hear anything else about what other people have done or who they’re friends with or who they’re following or what they’re saying about me or my friends or any of it. This bullshit has taken up too much of my time and energy, and I have very important smutty shots to take. 

And I am probably going to continue to be less active in the fandom on Tumblr, at least for a while. You probably won’t see me here much until September at the earliest. This time away has been really good for me, and I think I need to continue with limited Tumblring and making the time I am here more structured. Plus, with some of my other fave video game series returning this fall, my blog will probably shift back to a more well-balanced multi-fandom space. 

I’m also going to need to diversify my dash a little bit more, which means I will likely end up unfollowing some mutuals, particularly if we don’t interact often, if you don’t tag, or if I see any mention of fandom drama–It’s nothing personal, but I know breaking mutualship can hurt a little, so if following me after that makes you uncomfortable in any way, please don’t feel like you have to stick around. I totally get it. Similarly, if it would make you uncomfortable for me to continue to interact with your posts after unfollowing (because I probably will if you post in certain tags), please feel free to block me. 

Okay. Christ, that was long. Shut the fuck up already, right? This is why I can't do social media with character limits. ghdfjgjhkfdgkfdg

Seriously, though, that's it. People are welcome to comment on this post if they want, but I really have nothing else to say about any of this so please don’t be offended if I don’t reply. I’m not ignoring you, I’m just… Well, done.

[strawhbrrries]

All That Matters, ii.

pairing: cocky!tattoo artist!frank castle x afab!reader

summary: working with a world renowned tattoo artist who knows his own beauty has more cons than pros. the main one being that he's infuriating and it turns you on.

warnings: general banter between frank and reader, jealous reader??, jealous frank?, mutual pining but they're both idiots, cocky frank duh!, tattooed frank with long hair!!, no use of y/n or descriptions of reader, not proofread

word count: 883 words

authors note: it wouldn't be a series if there wasn't some sort of trouble, theo my beloved don't get hurt!! if you want to be added to the tag list just drop a comment! as always, enjoy!

find the masterlist here!

read the first part here!

You waited at the reception desk until the girl from Frank’s booth left before marching yourself right in and leaning against the wall, waiting for him to acknowledge you. He was busy putting away all the machinery he used, throwing away all the single use products and checking his notifications to notice you standing there. It made you feel a bit invisible, you’d unpack this feeling later in the shower.

“I wasn’t staring.” You stated, watching his hair fall around his face when he looked up at you from his chair.

“So what were you doing then? Did you think he was cute? Good thing you already have his number.” He responded, going back to whatever he was doing on his phone before he realized you were there. It almost sounded like he was jealous, but you pushed that thought aside. He had no interest in you.

“Jesus, Frank. Go fuck someone and get rid of the attitude.” You scrunched your nose at his attitude and turned around, instantly regretting whatever voice convinced you to come back here and speak to him. 

“Are you offering?” You heard him call after you, your eyes were practically in the back of your head at his words.

Frank allowed himself to eye your ass the entire time you walked away from him, watching how it moved when you walked and imagining it grinding up against him in a club. If he was drunk would he know it was you? Would you know it was him? He put the image in the back of his mind for later when he showered and needed some help reaching that high only you could give, and you didn’t know you did. 

You spent the entire rest of your shift ignoring him, only speaking to the other artists and telling them to pass on a message for you if you ever needed to talk to him. He spent that entire time trying to figure out what crime he committed, besides being so devilishly handsome, to earn the cold shoulder from you. One of the other artists had finished all his scheduled appointments for the day and decided to sit at the desk with you, generally you got along with everyone you worked with. Except for Frank, the literal guy who owns the place.

In a heated argument towards the beginning of your career as the receptionist, he’d told you he only kept you because he couldn’t find anyone better to do your job. You were proud that you were the best at it, also upset that he disliked you that much he was actively searching to replace you. The resentment for the statement sat at the bottom of your stomach, threatening to spill out every single time he irritated you. Frank paid you well, it wasn’t even a question in your mind if it was worth working there. The jo was easy, the pay was amazing, but your fucking boss.

“Do you wanna go out for some drinks later? Some of the other people wanna go out and I wanted to extend the offer to you.” Theo, the other artist sat next to you, offered. 

“I mean, as long as I’m not a bother.” You smiled, handing him your phone to input his number and then switching to put your number in his phone.

“Never, I’ll shoot you a text with the place and all that shit later.” He shot a smile your way, it almost rivaled Frank’s smile. You rarely saw it though.

Theo had only been there a few months when you got hired, he’d been friends with Frank during their internships and only felt right working next to him. He’d welcomed you with open arms and never made you feel any lesser for your position, in fact he always made his appreciation for you obvious. On most days he picked up some coffee for you when he picked up his breakfast, always making sure to give you a few napkins just in case you spilled. It was a surprise to everyone, but yourself, that you didn’t have his number yet. You knew that the second you let him into your life like that, you wouldn’t keep your hands to yourself.

He almost looked like a blonde version of Frank, way less arrogant about his looks. If they told you they were secretly twins who were separated at birth you would’ve believed in an instant, your mind was blown when you found out they didn’t know each other until they were twenty. His voice wasn’t as deep or rough, just as loud though. You never could see an ink of skin that wasn’t covered in tattoos, on either of them, except Theo’s face. He had this weird thing about never tattooing his face, he’d do other people’s but never his own.

Frank rounded the corner to your desk and frowned the second he saw you two together, laughing. He’d been the one to bring up going out for drinks, he however had no intention of inviting you, he’d look like an even bigger asshole if he told you not to come after his best friend invited you. Theo being so close to you was irritating, Frank. He knew he was attracted to you but jesus, this was a problem.

tag list: @elsvrse

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

“That one time Barnaby broke somebody’s jaw for going a little too far w/ insulting Wally & almost got expelled <3”

Full story please? <3

WITH PLEASURE!

for those who are slightly confused, this is for 'my' modern human au! well. modern-ish!

okay so when they were in freshman year / 9th grade, Barnaby and Wally are soldily Bonded. they are a set, do not separate. they receive a lot of shit for this, because some kids are assholes and that's especially true for 14yr olds. and it's 2006. so Wally and Barnaby get teased/bullied a lot for their closeness. at this point they're kind of used to it. they met early in 7th grade and have been inseparable ever since. most of it slides off of them

but what is Barnaby was having an especially stressful week? one of those weeks were everything is going wrong, nothing is working out. so Barn is at the end of his rope, and then one of the main kids who likes to bother them insults Wally specifically, and badly. like it's some next level So Bad Its Almost Impressive shit. at present Barnaby is walking to his next class with Wally and Poppy. so Barnaby just kind of stops in place, mentally chooses violence, turns, walks up to the kid, and punches him as hard as he can. it knocked the bully out instantly and broke his jaw.

and keep in mind that at this point in time, Barnaby isn't the big strong guy he is later on. he hasn't had his main growth spurt yet. and he still packed enough of a punch to do Damage - which makes him even more intimidating when he Does hit his growth spurt and towers over practically everyone

the pros of this event: Frank and Julie were watching, and Frank respected Barnaby's response so much that he allowed Julie to bring him to hang out with the growing friend group at lunch / asshole kids were less inclined to insult Wally and Barnaby (or his friends) to their faces

cons: Eddie was also watching and was too scared of Barnaby for the rest of their school career to try and talk to him or his friends / Barnaby nearly got expelled but did get suspended, and that's a permanent mark on his record

so the kid goes down, everyone freaks out. Barnaby is still too angry to feel anything other than pissed off vindication. naturally higher Authorities (teachers) come to get the unconscious student to the (i almost said vet) nurse's office, and to bring Barnaby to the principle's office. they call Ms. Beagle and have her come pick him up. Wally has stuck like glue to Barnaby pretty much the whole time, except for when Barnaby was in the office to get chewed out / interrogated. when Ms. Beagle is done w/ her conversation with the principle, she takes Barnaby and Wally home.

there, Barnaby is still worked up, and as "punishment" Ms. Beagle has him do some menial tasks alongside his usual after school chores. Wally tags along, of course, and asks why the hell Barnaby did that. in a nicer Wally way of asking. this is what breaks the camels back. Barnaby just sits down and starts crying, to which Wally is like "oh no. oh fuck. what do i do." cue a solid minute of him just standing and staring in panic before awkwardly sitting next to Barnaby in solidarity.

when they go inside, Ms. Beagle already has Barnaby's favorite dinner whipped up and ready. She gives him a talk where she's essentially says "blah blah blah violence isn't the answer. however, good job for standing up to that kid. he's an asshole and deserved a good wallop." (listen im a firm believer in ms beagle having been a Wild Youth that would have thrown bricks at cops). Moods are lightened, they have a good dinner. The next day or so they need to go have a meeting with the Injured Kid's parents. that's when they find out Barnaby fully broke the kids jaw (he feels a little bad for that) and that the parents are pushing for his expulsion and also juvie. Ms. Beagle manages to whittle down the sentence to a long suspension and then detention for the rest of the year, as well as her paying the kid's hospital bill.

tl;dr Barnaby punches a kid for insulting Wally, gets a new friend out of it, nearly gets expelled, and gains a mostly unfounded Reputation that dissuades most from outright messing with him or his pals

[yeyinde]

I desperately need to talk to you about how Price would handle falling for someone in his team. I just know you think about this too. In the way that you write, he is always so diligent, careful, trying to suppress it until it spills over. He’s so loyal to his job and his country. I just feel like you nail his character so well. Price walks such a fine line, but I love it when you let him give in.

Ahhh, thank you so much! I'm so glad you enjoy it!

I love the journey and angst of pining, and usually set it up like a climb: summit fever, standing on the precipice, and then the choice to either turn back around or jump to base. The eventual acquiescence is so fun to write—even more so than the actual feelings resolution that comes with that decision, or the equinox at the peak.

We never really see that side, though (because it's quite depressing when I try to envision it—to him, it would just be a gnarled man trying to close his hands around the only good thing he can find, snuffing out a glowing flame he thinks he's undeserving of).

I can't see him immediately jumping into anything, either. It's usually after years and years of pining, when the tensions grow so thick, he can barely move or breathe, does he ever really relent, give in. And even that's a battle. Inches only. Glacial slowness. Walls built over top of walls. Fractures cemented back in. He won't make it easy.

I rarely write from Price's POV, but I imagine he'd be super careful—pros (the very few he finds) and cons weighed for months before he even really accepts his own feelings, much less tries to initiate anything with you. Diligent, aware of the consequences, and subtle reluctance to even acknowledge his want, much less give in, all compiled onto the fact that this is his chosen profession, the life he wants to live. And, in many ways, this—you—are somewhat of an obstacle to that. One wrong move and everything he worked hard for crumbles. He wouldn't be careless, then, but anything serious will make him guarded. Wary.

I feel like there's tonnes of reasons not to, and very few to even try, but Price is just a man. The frayed threads of his resolve will wear down after being pulled taut for so long, before they finally snap. He's usually already very close to that point when the MC is hedging around the last ledge of the looming mountain, and so it feels like a quick, hurried thing when they finally meet at the crown.

Idk—I just really adore the idea of shattered resolve, of a hard earned victory that feels almost phyrric when its finally given to you. I like that contrasted with a little moment of was this worth it? only to followed up by something that immediately says: yes, absolutely (especially if that moment of yes is just the most mundane thing ever.)

[aspd-culture]

Aspd culture is wondering if a diagnosis is even worth it. Like, what are the pros and what are the cons? Are there even any pros? (Anyone who sees this feel free to drop your experiences/opinions)

I hope I can give some insight on this, because I came into this question myself in a place where there were effects on one side that people generally say don't exist.

Cons: So, a lot of people in the cluster b community claim that there is no effect on your ability to be hired if you are diagnosed with ASPD because of HIPAA. This is only mostly true. If you work in certain fields, such as care fields, that require you to be cleared psychologically then you *can* be refused a job on the basis of your ASPD. For me, this is preschool. Now, how it works is not as black and white as "do you have ASPD? Okay f*ck off then". Depending on the place you live, these will change but for my area this is how it works.

The preschool (I believe this would also apply to retirement and nursing homes) can choose one of two ways to get that clearance. They have to provide you access to a work clearance doctor that can perform the clearances, but they can choose, if they want, to allow you to use your own psychiatrist if you have one. That's not required, but some places will because it saves them money, or because they understand that there is nuance to mental health that a 15 minute consult can't give them. If you use your own, they don't have to have a clearance appointment, they just want their clearance paperwork filled out by your doctor indicating if you are cleared to work in the conditions you would be working in.

In your appointment if you go to a work-clearance doctor in my state, you don't have to declare your specific disorders in this time as they aren't allowed to be given to your potential employer anyways. They just get a P/F (pass or fail) for your physical and psychological clearance, potentially with a contingency on a pass. For example, I'm willing to bet that I would be given a contingency if I were to pass with a clearance doctor that I must not discontinue any of my medication without agreement from a doctor on the matter. That makes sense. Whilst I worked in a preschool unmedicated, there is good reason they would be concerned given that my medication list includes a mood stabilizer. I know I'm capable without it, my last job knows I'm capable without it, but *they* don't know I'm capable without it, and they wouldn't want to take that risk (so very reasonable/gen).

For most jobs though, HIPAA is fully protected as there is no reasonable explanation for them needing access to any medical information from you. I don't know the full list, but I'm willing to bet anything working with a weapon would also require this kind of clearance. However, no job that I'm aware of is allowed to discriminate based on your diagnosis which is why there is paperwork explaining the work conditions and asking if you could handle them rather than about your specific mental health details.

Outside of this, you may have issues adopting children or emigrating to another country on the basis of your diagnosis without the conditions that exist for jobs. These *can* but not always *will* deny you purely on the basis of a diagnosis. But, since ASPD is relatively stigmatized, be aware that you will have a greater chance of issues than with a less stigmatized diagnosis.

Expected cons you already likely knew about but warrant repeating is increased risk of ableism both from doctors, courts (if they find out, so mostly large crimes which we don't condone the act of committing here), and people in personal relationships. It won't be everyone - probably less than you'd think but more than you'd hope - but it is almost inevitable that there will be one person you interact with regularly who will be ableist.

Pros: The biggest one here, I won't lie to you, is going to be validation/understanding of yourself and possibly by the people around you if you choose to tell them. Don't underestimate the value of knowing what is going wrong and why, ditto with the value of supportive loved ones knowing that. It makes life easier to a degree you're wouldn't expect. Having care and understanding for yourself can alleviate some flares and soften the blow when you do things you're not proud of. It's not an excuse not to improve, but it makes it easier to give yourself credit where it's due.

The next biggest is going to be treatment, and this is a major step down from the pro above because finding a provider for this is going to be a bit of an undertaking if yours isn't already good about it or if you get diagnosed by a one-time professional (unlikely for any personality disorder). But, if you can find a good one, your professional being able to understand ASPD is going to be a very big deal as far as treatment goes because there are many techniques that simply *do not work* for most people with ASPD. DBT is vastly more effective for cluster b disorders than CBT, and CBT has frustrated many pwASPD out of ever trying treatment again. It will work for some pwASPD because we are not all the same, but it's best to try other things that work better first. Diagnosis also gives a lot of information to good professionals very quickly; rather than spending several expensive sessions for them to figure out "this person has severe trauma, a very irregular and insecure attachment style, a lack of trust in others to the point of paranoia, destructive tendencies for both themselves and their interactions with others, inability to perform normally in social situations, a lack of interest/ability in close relationships, and issues with impulses that need to be addressed as soon as possible", you can get that out all in one diagnostic code and start working on it much faster. This, to me, is a big thing. Therapy takes time, yes, but it can take much less with large, complex issues already mapped out. That's more or less what diagnoses are for, as far as I'm aware; they exist to communicate information quickly without you having to waste time and stress going into detail about it.

Lastly, there are a small number of reasonable accommodations that can be given for ASPD. The main ones you could reasonably ask for are probably going to be things like less rigidity on callouts, avoiding all front-facing interaction, and preference for work positions that operate with indirect management and more freedom vs direct oversight. For these, you are going to want to work with an informed disability advocate! Employers make enough issues about well-known disorders such as anxiety and ADHD without an advocate so please get one if you need accommodations.

The pros and cons are going to be weighed differently for everyone. As someone who is already too disabled to work at the moment, I put value on getting more efficient and personalized treatment above the cons since it would make everything simpler for me to potentially get back to work through treatment vs trying to avoid diagnosis for employability's sake. And I'm mostly unbothered by both personal and medical ableism; I'm happy to say a polite version of f*ck off to personal ableists and willing to report and move on from doctors who are ableist, but it's reasonable if you don't want to do that.

If anyone can think of more for either side, please add on!/gen

Plain text below the cut:

I hope I can give some insight on this, because I came into this question myself in a place where there were effects on one side that people generally say don't exist.

Cons: So, a lot of people in the cluster b community claim that there is no effect on your ability to be hired if you are diagnosed with ASPD because of HIPAA. This is only mostly true. If you work in certain fields, such as care fields, that require you to be cleared psychologically then you can be refused a job on the basis of your ASPD. For me, this is preschool. Now, how it works is not as black and white as "do you have ASPD? Okay f*ck off then". Depending on the place you live, these will change but for my area this is how it works.

The preschool (I believe this would also apply to retirement and nursing homes) can choose one of two ways to get that clearance. They have to provide you access to a work clearance doctor that can perform the clearances, but they can choose, if they want, to allow you to use your own psychiatrist if you have one. That's not required, but some places will because it saves them money, or because they understand that there is nuance to mental health that a 15 minute consult can't give them. If you use your own, they don't have to have a clearance appointment, they just want their clearance paperwork filled out by your doctor indicating if you are cleared to work in the conditions you would be working in.

In your appointment if you go to a work-clearance doctor in my state, you don't have to declare your specific disorders in this time as they aren't allowed to be given to your potential employer anyways. They just get a P/F (pass or fail) for your physical and psychological clearance, potentially with a contingency on a pass. For example, I'm willing to bet that I would be given a contingency if I were to pass with a clearance doctor that I must not discontinue any of my medication without agreement from a doctor on the matter. That makes sense. Whilst I worked in a preschool unmedicated, there is good reason they would be concerned given that my medication list includes a mood stabilizer. I know I'm capable without it, my last job knows I'm capable without it, but they don't know I'm capable without it, and they wouldn't want to take that risk (so very reasonable/gen).

For most jobs though, HIPAA is fully protected as there is no reasonable explanation for them needing access to any medical information from you. I don't know the full list, but I'm willing to bet anything working with a weapon would also require this kind of clearance. However, no job that I'm aware of is allowed to discriminate based on your diagnosis which is why there is paperwork explaining the work conditions and asking if you could handle them rather than about your specific mental health details.

Outside of this, you may have issues adopting children or emigrating to another country on the basis of your diagnosis without the conditions that exist for jobs. These can but not always will deny you purely on the basis of a diagnosis. But, since ASPD is relatively stigmatized, be aware that you will have a greater chance of issues than with a less stigmatized diagnosis.

Expected cons you already likely knew about but warrant repeating is increased risk of ableism both from doctors, courts (if they find out, so mostly large crimes which we don't condone the act of committing here), and people in personal relationships. It won't be everyone - probably less than you'd think but more than you'd hope - but it is almost inevitable that there will be one person you interact with regularly who will be ableist.

Pros: The biggest one here, I won't lie to you, is going to be validation/understanding of yourself and possibly by the people around you if you choose to tell them. Don't underestimate the value of knowing what is going wrong and why, ditto with the value of supportive loved ones knowing that. It makes life easier to a degree you're wouldn't expect. Having care and understanding for yourself can alleviate some flares and soften the blow when you do things you're not proud of. It's not an excuse not to improve, but it makes it easier to give yourself credit where it's due.

The next biggest is going to be treatment, and this is a major step down from the pro above because finding a provider for this is going to be a bit of an undertaking if yours isn't already good about it or if you get diagnosed by a one-time professional (unlikely for any personality disorder). But, if you can find a good one, your professional being able to understand ASPD is going to be a very big deal as far as treatment goes because there are many techniques that simply do not work for most people with ASPD. DBT is vastly more effective for cluster b disorders than CBT, and CBT has frustrated many pwASPD out of ever trying treatment again. It will work for some pwASPD because we are not all the same, but it's best to try other things that work better first. Diagnosis also gives a lot of information to good professionals very quickly; rather than spending several expensive sessions for them to figure out "this person has severe trauma, a very irregular and insecure attachment style, a lack of trust in others to the point of paranoia, destructive tendencies for both themselves and their interactions with others, inability to perform normally in social situations, a lack of interest/ability in close relationships, and issues with impulses that need to be addressed as soon as possible", you can get that out all in one diagnostic code and start working on it much faster. This, to me, is a big thing. Therapy takes time, yes, but it can take much less with large, complex issues already mapped out. That's more or less what diagnoses are for, as far as I'm aware; they exist to communicate information quickly without you having to waste time and stress going into detail about it.

Lastly, there are a small number of reasonable accommodations that can be given for ASPD. The main ones you could reasonably ask for are probably going to be things like less rigidity on callouts, avoiding all front-facing interaction, and preference for work positions that operate with indirect management and more freedom vs direct oversight. For these, you are going to want to work with an informed disability advocate! Employers make enough issues about well-known disorders such as anxiety and ADHD without an advocate so please get one if you need accommodations.

The pros and cons are going to be weighed differently for everyone. As someone who is already too disabled to work at the moment, I put value on getting more efficient and personalized treatment above the cons since it would make everything simpler for me to potentially get back to work through treatment vs trying to avoid diagnosis for employability's sake. And I'm mostly unbothered by both personal and medical ableism; I'm happy to say a polite version of f*ck off to personal ableists and willing to report and move on from doctors who are ableist, but it's reasonable if you don't want to do that.

If anyone can think of more for either side, please add on!/gen

[softpascalito]

Pedro Pascal Kinktober Day Twentysix (SFW)

Tying a tie - Javier Peña/F!Reader

Summary: Javier resigns from the DEA. You both reflect on your life in Colombia while you help him get ready. You also discuss what is about to follow.

Relationships: Javier Peña x F!Reader

WC: 1600

Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Trauma, Anxiety, Established Relationship, Crying, Moving On, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Sad Javier Peña (Narcos), Javier Peña Needs a Hug (Narcos), no beta we die like colonel carrillo

AO3 LINK

notes: my apologies for two sad days in a row. if you want to listen to a song while reading, i highly recommend swan song by lana del rey (bc what would a javi fic be without lana).

_________________________________________

Your hands smooth over the striped tie, tracing the lines that run across it. When your hands reach the edge of the soft fabric, they don't stop, instead continuing a now invisible line on the white dress shirt. You've touched it up this morning, making sure to remove the little crinkles that somehow return after every wear and usually seem impossible to get rid of.

Today, the shirt sits perfectly on him, a little strained by his broad shoulder, a tight fit, like all his clothes.

Your finger reaches his side, stopping at the seam that runs down from his arms. As you stretch your hand, gently placing your palm against the white fabric, you finally register movement below it, a gentle shift as a sigh leaves the man in front of you. The vibration of it carries through his body and you can feel it in your hand.

For a moment, you just stand there, considering if it's possible to transfer the stress that the body below your fingers holds onto you, if you can take any of it away. He carries it so well but he's been carrying it for so long and you know he's tired. So are you.

You refuse to lower your palm, pressing it into his skin a little harder, his soft stomach below adjusting to accommodate your hand as it stays firmly pressed against him.

It must be possible, to take the sadness, the anger, to extract it from the form that holds it. If you'd just find an opening, the one that holds the floodgates, you're certain it would come out in waves, pouring down on you.

“Querida.”

Javier's voice is gentle as he speaks, low like he doesn't want to disturb anyone. Not that there's anyone to disturb, except maybe the cat that is stretched out on the windowsill, half asleep, half watching the two people who are standing in the middle of the room.

“Maybe I should go with the other tie,” he mutters and you shake your head, moving your hand back and forth slightly so that it caresses his stomach, “I'm not letting you wear a clip-on tie to your resignation.”

He seems to see your point because his head droops a tiny bit as he nods, looking down at his chest once more. His chocolate brown eyes watch your hand, back and forth, back and forth.

“Okay,” he almost whispers and your eyes meet as you watch him carefully, already recognizing the signs of slight panic in his form. His jaw clenched to one side, his hand hanging down next to his body and nervously twitching, the movements of his eyes a little faster than usual.

“What if we're making the wrong choice? If the money runs out-” His voice breaks and you're almost certain your heart breaks with it.

You're awfully aware of the things he's considering, the pros and cons of leaving the DEA behind for good, of returning home. With you. And a cat.

You haven't talked about it, about the after. It has always been about leaving. It has never been about arriving.

Noone could blame Javi if he didn't want children. Blame either of you, really. But you have a feeling that the worries about making a living back home has something to do with that possibility. There was always going to be another bad guy, another cartel to take down, another big player to hunt. There was always money to be made in his job. It's just that the price of making that money has become too high.

You sigh a little, bringing up your free hand to caress his cheek, “Then I'll find something. Well be okay, Javi.” 

You really do believe it. You think.

“I know, it's just-” You wait patiently as Javi tries to find the right words, his gaze searching your face as if the answer is hidden somewhere in it, “It just feels so final.”

It takes all the strength in you to keep a neutral face, to not let the tears win. You just nod, fingers tracing the mustache above Javis lips.

“Because it is, hermoso,” you mumble, inching a tiny bit closer. The close touch of your other hand is replaced with that of your body as you rest your body against his, connecting as much skin as you possibly can in this moment. The other hand moves steadily over his mustache, stroking the fine, dark hairs that feel just the right amount of scratchy.

“You never have to go back there.”

You lean forward, placing the most gentle kiss on Javis lips as he lowers his gaze, just in time to see your hand fly up and cup his face, another kiss placed on his cheek.

After a moment, he brings his strong arms around you, pulling you in and you do the same, wrapping your arms around his torso, one hand stroking his back.

You pretend not to notice that he cries while you stand there. 

Instead, your grip tightens a little, holding him close, silently thanking all the gods of this world that you've made it here, that he is in your arms, that he is yours, all yours. No longer a chess piece for any of his higher-ups, no longer government property. Just yours.

Both of you lose track of time, just staying in each other's arms until you nudge him a little, “I think it's time to go.” His voice is a bit hoarse as he agrees and again, you pretend not to notice.

“That fucking cat is staring at us again,” Javi mutters and a small chuckle escapes you at that as you pull back, beginning to properly bind his tie. Your hands seem to have memorized the motions of it by now, easily placing one piece of fabric over the other, “She's curious. She knows something is happening.”

“Oh, you think?” Javi asks sarcastically but there's a playful note in his tone, “Maybe the two dozen cartons that you've stacked throughout the apartment gave something away.” You gently slap his chest before finishing up the tie, making sure to not pull it too tight.

“There,” you say gently, looking Javier once over and nodding in approval. With a sideway glance at one of the mentioned stacks of cartons that hold parts of your life, you feel a small tug in your chest. And, despite putting on your best, bravest face, through all this, of course Javi instantly sees.

“What is it?” His voice is soft, his gaze back on you as he reaches out to place his hands on your waist, “Did I say something stupid?”

You're quick to shake your head. The last thing you want is for him to worry about you today or worse, to blame himself for yet another thing. Still, he doesn't let up, nudging you a little until you soften enough for the words to tumble out.

“It's weird,” you say quietly, “deciding what to pack, what to leave behind.” He nods and this time it's he who waits patiently for you to continue, “How do you decide which parts of your life are worth taking back?”

The hands on your sides tighten a bit at that and you turn your head back towards him, soft eyes watching you. He seems to consider his words for a moment before speaking.

“I've decided which part I wanna take back.”

It's too honest. So, you shrug a little, trying to make light of it, “You mean the cat, don't you?”

He doesn't go for it. It would be an easy way out, one to avoid digging up those emotions inside both of you that are becoming increasingly harder to push down. Javi's never been one for the easy way.

“You know I wasn't talking about the cat. Even though, yes, she's coming too,” he mumbles and then adds, even more softly, “You know I was talking about you. You're the only part of this godforsaken shitshow I wanna bring home.”

Javi brings his lips forward, resting them against your forehead, letting them linger there. It's like he, too, is trying to exchange something inside of you, trying to let his love seep into your body, warming you from the inside out, filling all the holes, the cracks that the last years have left gaping inside of you.

A soft, strangled noise escapes you at the thought and you're back in his arms in an instant, your face pressed into his chest.

“Querida,” he whispers again and you just pull him closer at that. It's practically guaranteed that you're ruining the shirt, no doubt creating another of those wrinkles that never seem to ease up. Neither of you care.

Javi doesn't pretend not to see your tears. He dries them, patiently, under the watchful eyes of the cat that doesn't seem to understand why its two humans keep crying. You're not sure you humans understand either.

You dry Javier's tears too, after the official resignation. You dry them during the last night in your apartment, when his moans turn into sobs. You dry them on the plane.

And finally, you dry them in Laredo, in the kitchen of Chuchos farm, as you prepare dinner and Javier comes up behind you, crying into your shoulder until you turn around and kiss his tears away and hold him until he stops shaking, taking the sadness and trauma and grief from his body and taking it into your own, whispering into his ear that he's here, that he's home.

Whispering into his ear that he never has to go back.

[lexkent]

I've been accepted into grad school in a neighboring state and in the city I've lived in for the past 10 years, and I'm rotting from the inside out trying to come to a decision

pros for staying: I love my second floor apartment with a balcony and feel comfortable that the landlord isn't some monster. It would be so much easier to stay put. I have a summer and fall job secured here. the classes are regular M-F. there's a part time option if it gets to be too much. I have 1 cousin moving here for grad school (different school same city). there's a better chance of meeting fellow lgbt people here. this is a fun and diverse city with a never ending selection of things to do.

cons for staying: I already spent 4 years at this school so there isn't that thrill of going to a new university it would almost feel like returning to high school. I don’t feel a ton of school pride. it's not particularly safe here (I regularly hear gunshots, etc from my apartment.) I'm tired of the stress of the Mad Max driving situation here. I can't go on night walks without needing to be aware of my surroundings. I don't think I would want to be a Beginner social worker here (though I do want to return someday with more skills and experience). I feel like 10+ years is a long time to live in just one city. my therapist would be low key disappointed if I stayed. staying might feel like settling.

pros for leaving: it's exciting to go to a new school. smaller class sizes should mean a better chance to connect with professors and better chance to get an assistantship to help cover tuition. I could go on walks at night without needing to look over my shoulder. I would prefer to be a Beginner social worker in this city. new city means new places and parks to explore. my therapist seems to think going here and having a fresh start would be most beneficial to me. some cousins and friends are within 1.5 hours of this city. Ceno should be moving there soon!! I've been approved for an apartment with a deck.

cons for leaving: I hate moving more than anything in the world no matter how much I mentally prepare myself it's always 100x worse than I imagined. classes are Friday and Saturday (how am I supposed to drive home and see family/friends with 2 years of weekend classes?) middle of nowhere city. lack of diversity. I don't have a summer job lined up. there is always risk and uncertainty signing with new landlords because they can make your life total hell. it has been near impossible to find an apartment that allows cats I've been looking every day for months. I was just accepted for an apartment i like (though I learned it is ground floor despite the listed pictures which means my cats won't be able to freely enjoy the outdoor deck space like they could with a balcony and there could be a safety issue considering open windows) but with 1st month rent + security deposit + $600 cat fee + $70 cat rent, my bank account is going to wiped out to nothing (I've been crying lol)

[sapphire-mage]

So You Want to Get Into Classic Final Fantasy? (A Guide to Final Fantasy I-VI for Those Who Want To Check Them Out)

You may have seen recently that the HD Remixes of Final Fantasy 1-6 are coming to Switch and PS4 in Spring (or that they're already on Steam or mobile), and you might be thinking, "Should I try one of them?" Maybe you've played VII/VII Remake or XIV, and you're like, "Maybe I should give one of these a go!" Maybe you're thinking to start in numerical order? Maybe you already have one in mind?

Either way, I want to throw my 50 cents into this conversation as someone who has played every number but 11. This isn't going to be a critique. I like all six of them. To varying degrees? Yeah. But I'll be honest about pros and cons of each. Let's begin, shall we?

GENERAL TIPS AND INFO:

-Take note that ALL of these games are turn based combat JRPGS. They may have something different between each of them, but they are all turn based combat driven.

-FF1-FF3 have a turn based style where you can decide the actions of all of your characters, and their actions will be played out on a basis of their speed, kind of like Pokemon. FF4-FF6 allows characters and enemies to act freely while you decide their next move, which can be more dangerous, but take note, there is a 'Wait Mode' you can activate that will stop the flow of battle while you scroll through the magic or item menus.

-If by some chance, Final Fantasy isn't vibing with you: By all means quit. Maybe pick up one with a story that interests you more. Maybe turn based combat isn't your thing. Maybe you want a better leveling system. Maybe you would rather do more modern adaptations. It varies, but don't be afraid to step away. If it's not your thing, it is not your thing. That's okay.

-When it comes to any of these games: Wait until they are on sale. Square tends to put their games on sale pretty often, and pretty often, those sales are a steal. So keep that in mind!

OKAY! Let's begin!

Final Fantasy I

Despite being the first in the series, it's a difficult sell as 'your first Final Fantasy' or 'your first classic Final Fantasy'. But it isn't a bad choice, especially if you have a decent amount of JRPG experience anyway. The story exists, but more in a 'world building' way and not a 'character' way. It is also the shortest out of all six being discussed here.

What may be a pro or con for some is that the main four characters are self-inserts. You choose their battle job (a choice that is permanent, by the way), name them, and then use them for battle and adventure. But they barely speak a word of dialogue, if at all. This is bad for people who want characters to feed off of, but great for people who want to put their OCs as the characters (I'm those people at times).

General Tip: Feel free to use whatever character class selection you want, but for a general idea: Warrior is powerful but expensive to keep powerful, Thief is the fastest but slightly fragile compared to the other two fighters, Black Belt is almost has powerful as Warrior but significantly less expensive, White Mage has access to insane healing spells but very expensive, Black Mage has access to insane attacking spells but very expensive, and Red Mage has access to half the spells W and B Mage have but has the versatility to use a sword and both of their spell options.

Final Fantasy II

This is the Final Fantasy that I have to inform you is 'The Bad One'™ of the six. Personally, I love this game. Has a surprisingly deeper story than you'd expect, dealing with a rebellion trying to bring down a facist overlord (which is awesome). But it is probably the hardest of the six. Walk in the wrong direction and high level monsters will eviscerate you.

It also has a very unique leveling system. Where most games in the series require EXP and give you stats as you level, this game gives you stats as you USE those stats. Want your HP and Defense to go up? Take some damage, and you'll have a chance to level those stats. Want your Fire spell to grow stronger? Use the spell in battle, and the spell will grow stronger with your MP and magic power, possibly. Want to get better with swords? Keep using swords, baby!

Also, has the coolest villain of the first three games in the form of The Emperor. He looks like The Goblin King from Labyrinth and is such a bastard. Very entertaining.

General Tip: Keep characters focusing on a specific thing, but have everyone be a 'mage knight'. Give each character a weapon to focus, and a magic type to focus (white magic or black magic, don't cross types). If you want a very specific suggestion, consider making Firion and Guy handle weapons of your choice, but use white mage to heal. Have Maria use a bow, but utilize black magic and being your mage.

Final Fantasy III

It is my least favorite of these six, but it is a beloved game in the series for a reason. Most importantly, it is the game that inspired a lot of XIV. Hell, XIV fans may recognizes many songs (including the above one), enemies, and characters throughout.

The big thing I should mention is that this game has two versions on Steam: The Classic Remix (sprites, insert characters that you can name but have no character arcs) and The 3D Version (3D figures, actual main characters with names). The decision is yours and yours alone, Steam users.

Otherwise, this is the first game to allow a Job Sytem. As you progress, you unlock jobs that your characters can select and become, but you can't do it as freely as you may like. Also, when your character is that select job (let's say Black Mage, for instance), they can only be that job and nothing else until you change it. Once you do, the skills and abilities that character was able to use before may not be usable anymore unless you change them back. You'll see.

General Tips: Kind of figure out what kind of jobs you want each characters to handle, and stick with they general realm for each of them. Fighters be fighters, mages be mages. There may be times where you'll want to break that, but that's up to you to strategize.

Final Fantasy IV

We're finally reaching the 'epic stories' of Final Fantasy now, so I'll be talking a bit more about story. IV is the first real dramatic epic that Final Fantasy is known for being, and the characters and story prove that. Is it the best in the series? Arguably not, but it is very good. Dealing heavily with themes of redemption, revenge, and forgiveness.

From a gameplay stand point, it's probably the most challenging of the 4-6 era. There isn't that much freedom with your characters, as each of them have their designated skills, abilities, and talents set from the start of leveling to the end of leveling. And you can't change those things. So instead, you need to level your characters, figure out how to best beat the upcoming bosses, and use what you have.

And the music is fantastic in this game. Songs ranging from gorgeous melodies of feeling safe and home, to some stressful and tense songs as you come face to face with the enemy. You may recognize some from Endwalker, as Endwalker pulled a lot from this game.

General Tips: Learn everything that your characters can do, and utilize them to the best of your ability. Maybe your healer needs to focus on buffing or attacking, while another character heals with magic or items. Maybe you need to better research your enemies with what you have. Everything is creativity in this game with your limited options.

Final Fantasy V

I'm not gonna sugar coat it: This is my favorite in the series. But I'll try not to be biased. For starters, the story steps down from its epic roots to be more comedic. Somehow, this game managed to be a parody of FFIV and every Final Fantasy that would follow V, before any of them would be created. You'll have a lot of goofball good guys and bad guys, while also having a mean as hell main villain who has a strange, almost comedic origin story.

CW worth noting: There is a character who goes through some gender clash. Basically, you're introduced to them as one gender, when it is revealed later that they only disguised themselves as that gender because people of their born gender don't get respect in their occupation. Feelings on how this character was handled vary, but the character is beloved regardless and stays true to themselves to the end. I wouldn't say it was outright transphobic, but I wouldn't say it was handled with grace (one piece of dialogue makes me wince). And it may get some side glances from players now. But ultimately, the cast and fans accept and love this character regardless.

The music is very Pokemon Hoenn region: TRUMPETS EVERYWHERE! Somebody was having a trumpet party while this game was being made. Still, the music is great, especially the boss themes as you go further into the game. The track you're listening to is my personal favorite from this game.

But I haven't even spoke of the strongest aspect: The gameplay! It has a job system like Final Fantasy III, BUT you can carry over things you've learned from previous jobs! Got a Black Mage, but you want to utilize Time Magic? Good news, you can equip the Black Magic you've mastered while using Time Mage! Want to try out Monk, but you want to keep stealing items with your Thief? Have your Thief master 'Steal', and then equip it as a Monk. The strategy and creativity is unlimited!

General Tips: At the start of the game, you have access to a job known as 'Freelancer'. On the surface, this job is useless. But later on, you'll find that it automatically equips ALL passive abilities (ie HP +20%, Dual Wield, Equip Armor) without using up any of your slots! So take note: Freelancer is a secret endgame class! Strategize with that in mind! LEARN WHAT PASSIVE ABILITIES YOU CAN!

Also: Don't. Underestimate. Blue Mage. If you can figure things out, Blue Mage is insanely powerful. Then again, I speak as a devout Blue Mage fanatic.

Final Fantasy VI

As far as epic Final Fantasy games go, this is the biggest and baddest one from 1-6. Action, comedy, romance, horror, tragedy, joy! Everything and more in this theatrical adventure! By far, the strongest story of the six in my eyes and the eyes of many. Often argued to be one of the strongest stories of the entire series even beyond the classic six, and I agree! Lovable main characters all around, some kick ass female characters who take the forefront over most of the guys often times, and a psycho clown who serves as the central villain! I would argue, from a story stand point, this game is the quintessence of classic Final Fantasy.

Music is out of this world. Some of the best tracks you'll hear in the series, along with an opera song that will warm your heart and a final boss theme that will make you question what anyone saw in a certain One Winged Angel.

And then there's the gameplay. While I will admit that I find V's gameplay better, VI's gameplay is still quite good. Like IV, all characters come with skills and abilities that are unique to each character, which makes party formation important. But once you get past the first act, you gain the ability to teach magic to ANY CHARACTER IN THE GAME (except two late game secret characters, but you don't have to use those)! As long as they keep a certain item equipped, they were learn the spells those items have to offer over a span of battles. This turns all of your characters into battle mages, and creates for some interesting strategy.

THE ONLY DOWNSIDE is the final act. The final act removes every party member from your team but one, and with that one, you have to reunite EVERYONE. And those quests vary in difficulty and time, although almost all are optional. And that wouldn't be an issue save for the fact that the final dungeon will force your to create THREE TEAMS of FOUR PARTY MEMBERS (maximum, you can enter with one party member on each team if you want). As such, you might want to consider leveling and teaching spells to as many party members as you can. This hurts a lot of fans of this game, but it never bothered me.

General Tip: This is less of a general tip and more of a demand. When you get your airship for the first time, UNLOCK MOG! I don't care if you think or were told Mog is bad. If I can beat the final boss with him, you can make use of him! Look up how to unlock him and make sure you do it! Hell, it may make the final dungeon easier, cause you'll have him as a party member. You can always recruit him later, but during that early part of the game (before you lose every party member), Mog can learn a water dance ability that is surprisingly useful. But that's just me. Some people hate Mog, but I'm not some people.

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Alright, that's all six. Now, from a stand point of which of the six should be your first. Well... Ranking them from best to worst starting option...

Final Fantasy V or VI

Final Fantasy IV

Final Fantasy I

Final Fantasy III

Final Fantasy II

This isn't ranking them in quality, but whether they are a good starting place. At the end of the day, I would recommend picking up V or VI if you've never played a classic Final Fantasy. If you've never played a Final Fantasy period, then maybe also consider VII, IX, or X. But that's up to you (and if I do a post on those).

As for whether you should pick V or VI...

IF YOU WANT CRAZY GOOD GAMEPLAY AND DON'T MIND THE STORY NOT BEING TOO SERIOUS, play Final Fantasy V.

IF YOU WANT CRAZY GOOD STORY WITH SOME PRETTY GOOD GAMEPLAY, play Final Fantasy VI.

Or play both. They're both really good.

If you've played one or both or want a reason to pick up one of these others:

Play Final Fantasy I so you can connect with the most classic of the series, as it won't take up too much time.

Play Final Fantasy II if you want a real JRPG challenge that rips you from your safe zone.

Play Final Fantasy III if you want to connect with a lot of the creation of XIV.

Play Final Fantasy IV because it's awesome.

Play Final Fantasy V because it's awesome.

Play Final Fantasy VI because it's awesome.

So yeah, that's everything. Again: You don't have to play any of these. Or all of these. You could play VI, and I promise, I won't be like, "Wow. You didn't play V? Cringe." If someone does, screw them. Play and try what you want to play and try. I'm just here to guide the way.

As for 7-15... Maybe I'll discuss them. But that's up to you for now.