#I am really really hard on my shoes (I think because of the limp? but not totally sure)

[liesonthefloordramatically]

I don't remember who recommended Julia Bo when I was searching for shoes last summer, but A. I did wind up getting some and they rule and I get compliments on them all the time and B. they're having a Black Friday sale today, so if you are a dandy struggling through the wasteland of "everybody stopped selling Oxfords during the pandemic"...

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Unknown Ep 7 Brain Rot Moments

First of all, this show is incredible. 

Second of all, I haven’t stopped thinking about certain parts of this episode and that means I want to write about them. But I have absolutely no idea what there is to say besides “!!!!!!” 

So I guess here are the small movements of the episode I cannot get over:

The way Qian’s hand hits the couch and bounces on to his lap when San Pang asks him if he has feelings for Yuan. And I honestly can’t tell how much of what I love about it comes from the motion itself, this loss of strength that drops his arm limp beside him when faced with such a question, or if it is the sound of his hand hitting the couch that really sells it for me. The sound when Qian’s hand hits the couch is short and sharp and for some reason that noise feels like an answer to me. Especially because it is followed by silence from Qian. For me, Qian’s hand hitting the couch is his admission.

I don’t think this line was an intentional call back to last week’s episode and it certainly isn’t structured for peak emotional impact, but that does not mean that hearing San Pang tell Qian to stand straight didn’t immediately give me war flashbacks to Qian telling Yuan to stand straight in the midst of Yuan’s confession in Episode 6

Just so many parts of the phone call, probably like all of the phone call scene is just gonna be burnt in to my skull for a considerable time, but especially the way Chris is so legible in expressing Qian’s hesitation, and the way that Kurt is so legible in expressing Yuan’s desperation. I loved the initial panic of Qian feeling the weight of what he was about to do and trying to bail out, the way that Yuan immediately calls him back because he is not going to let this opportunity sneak past, the way that Qian is breathing, how tense he is, how much he has to breathe to steady himself, to mentally prepare to answer the phone and have this conversation.

gifs by @ueasking

How tiny Yuan’s voice is, contrasted with how big his eyes are when he says hello because he can’t believe that this is actually happening. 

How awkward Qian is here, this may perhaps be the most awkward I have seen Qian act. There is so much uncertainty in this conversation with him, the way he has to pull the “how have you been?” question out of his own head, the way he chews his lip as he listens to Yuan’s life updates.

The way Yuan’s lower jaw moves when he is desperately trying to find other topics of conversation, other questions he can ask Qian to keep this conversation going longer. The way that his silence goes on just long enough for Qian to get the “anything else?” question out. The way his jaw moves and his eyes widen and he leans forward when Qian says “bye bye.” It’s exactly the type of reaction I would see from someone trying to physically reach out to someone that is just beyond their grasp. He can’t yell wait to a dial tone.

gif by @ueasking

The way Qian starts to notice Yuan. He fully has not see his face at this point, he hasn’t heard his voice, or his name. But he is staring at Yuan’s shoes with his mouth slightly agape, because he recognizes them.

The way his eyes eventually work their way up in his disbelief, to look at Yuan’s head. The way that he immediately reaches out to Yuan, puts his hand on Yuan’s shoulder. It makes me think about how much Qian wants to, needs to be connected to Yuan. Because the time between when he figures out who is standing in front of him and placing a hand on his shoulder is near instantaneous.

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

Following that, the way Yuan slides Qian’s hand off of his shoulder when he is talking with the businessmen. I do not know what it is about that moment, but considering the preview for Episode 8, it feels very in keeping with a character that is playing hard to get. Even if that isn’t the case here, in front of all of these coworkers is definitely not the place for intimate touching between brothers.

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

I am also thinking about how that does not dissuade Qian, who then reaches straight for Yuan’s neck. Something tells me these side of the neck/side of the face touches are not platonic or brotherly… but I regardless I appreciate the way that Unknown affirms Qian’s reciprocated feelings for Yuan by having him be the one initiating a lot of physical contact after barely being around much less touching people. I think the only time we see Qian initiate physical contact before Yuan’s return is when he grabs San Pang’s arm to stop him from contacting Yuan.

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

The way that Yuan cares for Qian once they are in the taxi and heading home, the gentle removal of Qian’s glasses, tucking Qian’s tie in to his left pocket, right over his heart. The way that the tie sticks up just a bit so you can see a piece of Qian poking through

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

The way Qian does not resist at all when Yuan reaches over and slips his arm behind Qian’s neck. The way that Qian lets himself slide further and further until his head is resting against Yuan’s shoulder. Yuan did not pull Qian down, Yuan didn’t push, Qian fully moved THE WAY YUAN RUBS HIS THUMB AGAINST QIAN’S UPPER ARM.

gif by @aejeonghae

The way Yuan breathes in this scene to regulate himself because a lot has just happened, because Qian is Right There, because Qian reached out, because Qian is touching him, because he is back home after four years with a lot of uncertainty hanging in the air.

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

I don’t know about anyone else, but I will be thinking about Yuan putting his hand around Qian’s waist as Qian walks towards the bed. This is an entirely unnecessary action from a movement standpoint as in Qian is able to walk on his own, and Yuan slides this hand to settle at Qian’s waist as they walk, so he isn’t using it as a way to support or steer Qian. That feels like a stolen moment for Yuan, and opportunity for him to hold Qian in ways he has wanted to.

The massage Qian is getting from both Lili and Yuan, this is such an interesting moment for me because it places Yuan’s action here firmly in the familial, siblings category since he and Lili are performing the exact same action. And not only that but they are bickering like siblings do while they massage Qian’s shoulders. Unknown does not and will not stop reminding its audience what this story is about, who this romance is between. Yuan being adopted, Yuan being sent away for four years does not make Yuan any less of a brother to Qian or Lili. They did this earlier in the taxi too, Yuan tells the businessmen that Qian is his brother, Qian tells the businessmen Yuan is his little brother. The time and the distance has not changed how they view each other, they do not lie about the nature of their relationship to one another. There is no fresh start here.

THE EYEBROW QUIRK. GOD I THINK THIS IS MY FAVORITE MOMENT OF THE EPISODE. I literally cannot even explain why, I could not tell you what Qian is reacting to here. Personally I think it is an attraction to Yuan thing, that it’s as much of an admission of his feelings for Yuan as the sound of his hand hitting the couch was.

This tired, but genuinely happy smile, dimple and all, hearing Lili and Yuan bickering in the hallway. Yuan and Lili are here. Yuan and Lili are being ridiculous. Yuan and Lili have fallen right back in to their dynamic despite the time apart. Everything is as it should be. Yuan is here. Everything is going to change. Yuan is here. Yuan is here. Yuan is here.

gif by @ueasking

I have said it before and I will say it again that I am not a fan of incest plotlines, I especially have a lot of qualms around romantic and sexual relationships between adoptive siblings, partially because I think it undercuts the fact that they are family. It bothered me in The Fosters, it overwhelmingly bothers me in Umbrella Academy, it bothers me when “we may actually be related” plotlines are added to things (looking at you Shadowhunters series). I recognize a pattern with the ones that I hate being all heterosexual relationships, and I think some of that hatred stems from the fact that a lot of these plots exist because there aren’t enough women in those stories. 

I find it interesting that I had no problems with Ai Di and Chen Yi in Kiseki: Dear to Me because we never see them being raised together and thus there is a massive separation. And I currently don’t have any problems with Qian and Yuan inevitably getting together, for precisely the opposite reason. Unknown has really put the time and effort into showing the dynamics, into building the childhood, in to seeing where these characters came from, into turning these characters into siblings. Yuan understands from the beginning why he should not confess to Qian. Qian reacts to Yuan’s confession in a way I think is realistic. They have four years of no contact, they have four years to reflect on what happened that day, how they feel about each other. They have four years to see what life is like without the other person there, if they can survive it. And Qian cannot. 

But Unknown is not going to let us forget that these are brothers. San Pang knows it is wrong but doesn’t have the words to express it. His aparpent relationship to Lili will serve as an interesting parallel to Qian and Yuan’s relationship because San Pang considers them all family, considers Qian his brother, and yet here he is dating a member of that family. Idk I guess I just feel like they are handling the contents of this show very well, and I am going feral for the physicality of these actors. 

[wherenymphsroam]

take me one more time

⟡ -- he saw himself in you. he took you under his wing. over time, he’s found his blade dulls in comparison to the wounds you inflict on yourself.

w/c: 2k

warnings: reader is a third ghost face alongside stu and billy in this plot line, billy calls reader a girl (silly girl) but no gendered anatomy is assigned to reader, reader is implied to have problems with people pleasing and self harm through putting themselves in purposefully harmful situations, reader and biilly are implied to have an on and off fwb agreement, cheating if you wanna think about billy still being with Sidney at this point in time but she’s not outright mentioned, reader has grown dependent on billy, he’s acting like a sweetheart but he’s still in fact a manipulative psycho!

a/n: I TOLD YOU GUYS HE PUT A WORM IN MY BRAIN !!!! anyways. fair warning — this is a sad, old wip I spruced life back into. not beta read because it’s 5am and I will die like a man. I am shamefully putting this out as I side eye comms I haven’t gotten to,,,,

music suggestion: sextape (deftones), exit music (radiohead), bleed for me - acoustic (johnny goth)

The bangs pounding against the door of the warehouse are almost drowned out by the sharp tinging of rain pelting the roof above, but Billy hears it loud and clear. It’s a foggy, dark November night, thoroughly sodden by a once in a blue moon rainstorm that’s settled over Woodsboro. Any other time, he’d scoff at the idea of getting up, but he knows that rhythm. Only you knock like that. With a growl under his breath, he pulls himself out of the armchair to cross the room, swiftly pulling the side door open.

He pauses, lips pursed, dark eyes taking in your drenched form; over your trembling lips and up to your dead gaze, all the way down to the water that had sodden your sneakers. He only gives one shake of his head before he sighs, stepping aside to allow you to slip past him. You choose to ignore how your sneakers squish under the weight of each of your foot falls, too numb to pay much mind to your waterlogged shoes as you stumble into the secret warehouse Billy coveted for… well, no one, really. Only you and Stu knew of this place, tucked away deep into his property. Surely, the police would have a field day with your little unofficial killers den. 

Closing the door behind you, he turns and slouches against the heavy metal with crossed arms, his eyes hard as they bore into your frame where you stand stationary, faced away from him. You know what he’s gonna say. You didn’t particularly want to hear it tonight. 

“And… let me guess. It’s right about now that I get to tell you I told you so, hm?”

“Shut up Billy. Don’t wanna hear it right now.” You grit out, stiff as a board, stubborn as a child in how you refuse to face him. With swift, soggy steps, you trudge dirt and mud across the cement beneath your feet as you all but stomp towards the set up he has in the middle of the room. 

It’s nothing too fancy, but not completely trash either. A large, fancy looking rug covered the floor, likely a piece Stu had snagged from his place. A simple, king sized mattress sat in the middle of the warehouse, a few pillows and blankets scattered about the area. A ornate, wooden table on one end of the rug, with papers and bottles strewn about the place, right next to a rather beat up armchair. Obviously lived in, giving away just how much time Billy likely spent in here, out here as opposed to back at the house with his father. Not that you could blame him. His dad had been a mean drunk ever since his mom skipped town, as if it weren’t his fault he couldn’t resist a bit of Prescott pussy. 

Billy watches as you throw yourself rather gracelessly into the armchair, strewn like that of a neglected doll over the arm when you slump your weight against it. There’s no way that position can be comfortable. He simply exhales through his nose, nostrils flaring as he stalks towards your limp form.

“It’s good I don’t care then, ‘cause ya gonna hear it anyways.” 

You only roll your eyes, despite the fact that you know he can’t see your face from where he stands with his hands leaning his body weight against the back of the chair. Lips itching to form a retort, you decide against it. You’re too tired tonight. It’s best to just let him lecture you and get this over with. 

“You’re so stupid. Why do you always go for the ones you’re too good for? Huh?” 

That catches your attention. The hell does he mean by ‘too good’ for? Your taste isn’t the best, and that’s hard enough to admit in of itself, sure. But he’s going a little far to say all that.

“I’m tired of this happening. You going after the rat face of the week and then ending up on my doorstep when they screw you over like they always do because-“ 

He lunges over the back of the ratty armchair, arms looking like that of spider surrounding its latest catch as he presses his nose into your hair, mumbling, “-you’re too fuckin’ nice, ain’t cha? Too sweet to stand up for y’self whenever they make you uncomfortable, whenever their hands get a little too friendly, huh?” 

Your breath catches in your throat. Was it from the feeling of his breath ghosting across the top of your ear? Or was it the malice in his voice that has your skin crawling with an unknown heat? You’ve only ever heard him talk like this to soon-to-be victims over phone calls. Not that you had paid specific attention to that aspect of your little trio’s killings. It was just… fun, listening to him taunt people. He was real good at it. Got you specifically riled up just in time to strike your set victim. 

His voice aside… He’s only telling you what you already know, so you surprise yourself when you flinch against his words. Closing your eyes, you press yourself deeper into the puffy, scratchy arm of the chair, as if it could grant you the mercy of not having to watch the consequences of your actions unfurl before you. With a groan, you bury your face into the bend of your own arm, pretending the chill permeating through your soaked clothes wasn’t bothering you. Maybe ‘cause you were never gonna admit to yourself. It sounds worse when he says it out loud, you conclude. You know he’s right, and that twists your gut to stew hotter in your own guilt. 

“Shut the fuck up, Billy.” you mutter, eyes heavy when they flutter open to stare straight ahead into the dim emptiness of the warehouse. You fixate on a specific steel barrel about 10 feet away — it has a bunch of scribbled papers strewn across the top and around it. They were likely a mix of drawn up past and current plans for victims — Addresses, phone duplicates, individuals schedules and whereabouts. Stu had no sense of organization when it came to his blueprints, but they got the job done. For as goofy as the guy was, he had a mean IQ. The brain of a killer. 

Billy’s lips quirk, satisfied with the reaction he’s pulled from you. You both know he’s fucking with you, giving into his sadistic tendencies just for one minute. Even so, it doesn’t prevent his words from stinging like salt in your open wounds. 

He sighs, long and drawn out as his head hangs, forehead pressing against your shoulder as his blunt nails dig into the armchair’s cushioned back. The sound of a button getting ripped from the material catches your ears, and you almost shrink away as he murmurs into your skin.

“I do hate seeing you like this. I really do. Why do you have to be such a pretty little masochist? Hm?” 

That almost has you chuckling. Ironic, right? A cold blooded killer — masochist by day, sadist by night. You know you can’t answer that question for yourself, let alone to him. Only the wisp of a shaky breath leaves your mouth as you allow yourself to fall back against the couch, looking up at him when his eyes come into your view. 

“I don’t know how to live without pain.” 

It’s simple. It’s like a drug at this point – like your own personal taste of hell every time you let yourself love someone. Just like how Billy attracts people and can’t shake them, you can’t seem to shake off those that feed on you and leave you an empty shell. And when you aren’t allowing some to crawl  their way into your chest, feasting on your still beating heart and sucking up your warmth like hungry cockroaches, you sink your knife into others by night. Hunger really is a son of a bitch in that way, always sitting and waiting for you to get ripped apart by someone else. Watching and waiting for it to eat away your empathy, your resilience, your patience, until you take it upon yourself to tear into them. 

Your statement hangs thick in the air as he gazes down at you. He knows exactly what you mean, doesn’t even look at you like you’re some freak who hates their life like others would. Instead, he smiles like that of a little boy as he leans down, slotting his chapped lips against yours. He isn’t gentle, not in the slightest, not waiting even a second to let you register what he was doing before his teeth are sinking into your bottom lip, greedy in how they drag and pull against your pliant skin. 

You accept his ministrations, a whine crawling into the back of your throat with how you have to crane your neck further in order to really reciprocate. However, he’s pulling away before you can attempt to adjust yourself against the couch, resting his forearms next to where your head lies craned against the back of the couch. 

“You’re so sweet,” he murmurs matter of factly. You only huff in response, turning your head away from his burning gaze and damned tuggable hair, opting to stare up at the ceiling. 

“And you’re not good for me. Can’t keep crawling back to you like this, Billy.” 

He chuckles as he circles the armchair, heavy boots echoing his footsteps around you before they come to a stop before you. He looks down at you with an unreadable look in his eyes, down his nose like he’s debating his next action. With a shake of his head, he only hums before reaching for your hands, drawing you up and out of the chair to stand against him. Like this, chest to chest, you finally get close enough to see it. The pity in his gaze, the undercurrent of… empathy that swirls in his honeyed eyes. You had grown accustomed to being looked at like this; like a kicked puppy he just had to entertain, had to hold close. He saw himself in you. And so, he treated you sweetly, softly. Gentle in how he collects you in his arms, dragging steps back to pull you across the rug. 

“You always say that,” he hums against your ear as he backtracks the both of you towards the bed. “And you’ll say that again next time.” 

He’s right. He always is. 

So you follow him. You indulge him, rather. Silent when he unzips and peels your sodden hoodie off your shoulders, down your arms to throw it somewhere into the darkness of the room. Still as a frozen deer when he reaches down to deftly pull your laces loose, swiftly tugging your soaked shoes off your feet, kicking them aside. Soft, pliant when he pops the button of your jeans and lowers the fly, carefully peeling the tacky denim down your cool thighs. He even goes so far as to smooth his warm palms down the goose flesh of them, tapping your right thigh to signal for you to step out of your jeans. A small gesture, but meaningful nonetheless, considering this was Billy you were dealing with. He’s silent as he lowers the both of you, down onto the end of the bed.  

You’re only shivering for a few more moments, just until he pulls the both of you up the length of the expansive bed, settling the heavy duvet over your bare legs. He had half a mind to strip you of your shirt, but you looked pretty like that. It was all in the simplicity of that v neck shirt, the hem falling just above the band of your panties. You were pretty like a doll should be. He couldn’t help but wonder for just a moment if your insides were just as beautiful. 

“Silly girl. You need me,” He coos as his arm draws up to drape against your back. His nimble fingers follow the dip of your spine all the way down to the lower hem of your shirt,  then back up to lightly drag his nails against the base of your scalp, right where he knows you like it. His eyes crinkle with amusement as he watches goosebumps rise on your skin, the hair on your nape standing on end. When was the last time someone held you so delicately? You should be held like this every night, he concludes then. 

“Don’t try and act like you don’t ever again.” 

thank you for reading! I have emergency commissions open, so if you enjoyed this piece, please consider taking a look at my menu or rb'ing :^)

[chelseeebe]

right away, mr. harrington.

summary: an illicit affair with your boss steve harrington can only end one way, heartbreak. c/w: so steve is like 39 in this and reader is around 24, i didn't wanna write r any younger but also think this age gap is still a bit dodge. there's also rough sex and like he's a bit of an asshole honestly. modern! au. also i guess plussize!reader but it's like a sentence of description so i don't wanna tag it as that. so i actually LOVED writing this like a lot so i hope you enjoy <3

‘no, i really am going to end it this time, tomorrow in fact,’ you take a sip from the wine glass, looking up at your roommate.

‘do what you want darling, i know if a man like that was interested in me, i’d do the same damn thing,’ emma snorts, unscrewing the wine lid and filling both of your glasses.

‘i know, but i feel bad.. nancy is a lovely woman, it’s not fair,’ you respond. the thing is, at first it was just mindless, admittedly amazing, sex but the more time you’d spent with him, the more you’d begun actually having feelings for him.

it hurt more because nancy really was a nice person, she’d always bake little treats for the office, bringing them in with a smile. and she was always polite to you, complimenting your new shoes and your nice new skirt that steve had actually bought you.

it was strange really, because you and nancy couldn’t have been more different. you were more.. round. you had thick thighs, wide hips and carried a lil’ bit of extra weight around your stomach. whereas she was petite and slender. you were loud mouthed and cocky, whilst she seemed much more reserved and honestly a little shy.

‘she probably knows, don’t all big bosses fuck their assistants?’ she chortles.

‘i’m not his assistant, i’m in admin,’ you sarcastically quip back. realistically you were a glorified receptionist, but telling people that you worked in admin for the harrington law firm made you look miles better.

‘of course, pardon me for the mistake,’ she raises her eyebrow.

you hadn’t meant to start an affair with steve, really. you’d stayed late at the office one night, trying to finish the monthly report before monday, steve was in his office tapping away at his computer, quite frankly you hadn’t even noticed.

you were swearing under your breath trying to get the photocopier to cooperate when he swings his office door open, ‘giving ya’ trouble?’

‘shit!’ you clutch your chest, realising who you’d just sworn at, ‘oh my god, sorry! i didn’t realise you were still here!’

he chuckles moving to stand next to you, he clicks one of the buttons and it clunks and starts printing.

‘easy, the trick is to not get angry at it and it’ll listen,’ he smiles down at you. you notice how he’d loosened his tie, his hair messy from running his hands through it.

‘ahh, should’ve known.. thank you,’ you grin back, you rarely saw your boss, he was far too busy to socialise with his workers.

‘uhh..’ he sighs, slapping his forehead sarcastically, ‘forgive me, what was your name?’

you giggle, ‘y/n, i’m in admin,’ gosh you’d never noticed just how attractive mr. harrington really was.

‘right right, i remember now.. how come you’re still here?’ his arm brushes against yours making your whole body shiver.

‘i had to get this stupid report done before monday, thought i’d better stay.’

‘hard worker.. i like it, is it finished?’

‘it is now, thanks to you,’ you grin, collecting the papers from the machine.

‘come and join me for a drink in my office, celebrate your hard work?’ he touches your arm briefly.

‘ahh i shouldn’t.. i still need to staple them and-,’

‘i have a stapler in my office,’ raising his eyebrows.

‘okay..’ you concede, following him into his office.

he’d only had some very expensive whisky but you put up with the burn and sat and drank it with him for hours.

and then somehow you’re on the edge of his desk, legs wrapped around his waist as he pounds into you, hands gripping onto the fat of your hips.

you limped out of the office, arriving home in the early hours of the morning, much later than you’d intended.

from that night on, you and steve had started the affair. it began with late nights in his office, slowly moving to secret meetings at hotels and then now, staying at his house when nancy was away communicating through the second phone he’d bought especially for you.

the day after the not so helpful conversation with emma, you strut into the office, prepared to end things once and for all.

you were wearing the tiny black skirt he’d bought for you, perhaps subconsciously, knowing that he’d be salivating as soon as you walked into his office.

it’s nearly the end of the day before you get the guts to walk in there, lightly wrapping your knuckles on his door.

there’s an exaggerated gag from behind you, you spin to see one of the guys from accounts jerking his hand in a mock blowjob. you roll your eyes, it wasn’t a secret that people in the office were speculating about you. noticing the trips to his office and how you’d both mysteriously appeared from the bathroom at the christmas party, hair messed up and a trace of red lipstick on his collar.

it was all the more annoying because steve actually wasn’t doing anything for you at work. you’d explicitly told him to keep it all seperate. you didn’t want promotions handed to you. any and everything you’d earned was all you.

‘come in,’ he calls and you oblige, shutting the door firmly behind you.

he snaps the lid of his laptop shut, looking up at you and then down to the short skirt, his signature smirk creeping to his face.

‘it’s you,’ he breathes, pushing his chair back from his desk and standing.

‘what’re you hiding? don’t tell me you’re having an affair?’ you feign shock, walking over to his desk. you hated the effect he had on you, before you’d come in here you were so ready to shut him down and now you were crumbling at the sight of him.

‘ahh, you caught me,’ he holds his hands up as you walk over to him.

‘well i hope she’s not prettier than me,’ you pout, his hands resting on your waist, pulling you into him.

‘that’d be a tough one,’ he smirks.

you bite your lip, your cheeks flushing with heat at his words, ‘really, what are you hiding?’

‘well.. it was supposed to be a surprise buut since you’re here…’ he pulls away, lifting the laptop screen to show the conformation screen for a very, very fancy hotel.

you lean in to look at the screen, ‘what..? what’s that for?’

‘for this weekend, nancy’s away at some conference until monday so i’m all yours,’ he turns to you, smiling.

‘oh.. okay,’ you try not to sound unappreciative but he had just knocked your plans right off course. this wasn’t helping you in trying to convince yourself you weren’t hopelessly in love with your married boss.

‘oh.. not a good idea then,’ he sits back on the chair, a slight frown on his face.

‘no.. no, it’s great, i just didn’t expect it at all,’ you wrap your arms around his neck, perching on his lap.

how could you ever end things with him? he’s the first man to ever think about you so deeply and sincerely. even if it was only when nancy was away.

‘really? you didn’t seem too happy..’ his arms wrap around your waist, the frown still apparent on his face.

‘i am, really steve, thank you,’ planting a small kiss to his nose before you press your forehead to his.

he finally smiles, ‘you deserve it.. we’re going tonight, i’ll pick you up at seven, pack for the whole weekend we’re back sunday night.’

‘okay, exciting.. are we-,’ you’re cut off by a knock at his door, jumping up from his lap and practically sprinting to the other side of the desk.

he clears his throat, spinning to sit correctly at his desk, ‘come in.’

carol, his very lovely but elderly assistant walks into the room. you were sure he’d only hired her to keep nancy off his trail.

‘i’ll get on that right away mr. harrington,’ you smile at him and use the interruption to slip out of the room.

you sit back at your desk, a collection of eager eyes on you.

you pull out your phone to text emma,

‘i’ll be back sometime sunday lol’

she pings back almost immediately,

‘didn’t go well then?’

‘of course not’

‘i think i’m actually in love with him em.. this is not good’

you place your phone back on your desk, attempting to get back to work.

-

the hotel room is huge.

decked head to toe with candles and bouquets of flowers.

‘oh my god,’ you drop your bag onto the velvet chair, taking in the magnificent room.

‘your favourites,’ he nods over to the vases full of sunflowers adorning the sides.

‘oh, thank you.. thank you,’ you snake your arms around his neck, kissing his lips.

he walks you backwards towards the bed, your knees buckling as they hit the edge and you fall back onto the soft mattress, his body now on top of yours.

his hands wander down to your thighs, creeping up your skirt.

you take his bottom lip between your teeth as his thumb begins to circle your clit above your underwear.

quickly letting go as he presses harder, causing you to moan into his mouth. his fingers hook onto the lacy hem of your panties, yanking them down to your thighs.

‘mmm, i love these ones,’ he looks down between your bodies, his thumb returning to its previous position, circling faster.

‘fuck steve,’ your eyes squeeze shut at the feeling of his fingers sliding into you.

‘so wet for me already, baby,’ he growls, nipping at your neck.

you moan in response, tugging at his blazer hinting for him to remove it.

your stomach tightens, his fingers dangerously close to sending you over the edge. he can tell as the grip on his arm tightens, your chest heaving up and down.

‘yeah? you gonna cum for me baby,’ he groans, eyes firmly on you as you cry out at your orgasm. legs shaking as steve removes his fingers, smirking down at you.

he was, genuinely, the first man to care about making you cum before he did. not only that, but he was so good at it. he was proud of the fact that he could have you writhing underneath him in five minutes.

‘jesus,’ you pant, looking up at him.

‘not sure he was responsible for that one, darling,’ he retorts, going to stand from the bed.

you grab his hand, taking the two fingers that had just been inside of you and wrapping your lips around them, looking at him through your eyelashes.

he inhales sharply, ‘you drive me crazy..’ his thumb strokes your cheek, before sliding his fingers out, a low moan rumbling from his throat.

‘c’mon.. what about you, mr. harrington? i wanna make you feel good,’ you mew, lightly placing your foot on his crotch and sliding it down ever so slowly.

you can hear his breath hitch in his throat, ‘we have dinner in an hour..’

‘i’ll be quick.. promise,’ you flip onto your knees, crawling to the edge of the bed. unbuckling his belt and sliding his tailored pants down. he shrugs his blazer off, now stood in his tight, white button-up shirt. it fit perfectly, highlighting his defined biceps.

‘so hard for me already?’ you run your hand over his bulge, mocking his words from earlier.

‘baby please, i’m begging you..’ he pants, his hand running through his hair.

‘hmmm, i like the sound of that,’ you tug his boxer shorts down, his erection springing up, tip already leaking pre-cum.

the size of him still genuinely shocked you. the first few times you fucked, you had to get accustomed to his length, unsure if it was going to tear you in two.

you spit into your hand and take his cock into your grasp, pumping your hand up and down. his knees almost giving way as you fasten the pace.

‘fucking hell,’ he grunts, his long fingers curling into your hair.

you crawl forward, taking his cock into your mouth, beginning to bob your head up and down.

low moans fall from his lips as he twists your hair into a make-shift ponytail, yanking on it as his dick hits the back of your throat.

your hands grab onto his hips as he begins to thrust into your mouth, gagging at the feeling of his cock repeatedly slamming your throat.

you look up at him, his dark eyes already staring down at you. the eye contact makes him fall apart, your name tumbling from his lips as you can feel his cock twitch in your throat.

he gives one last thrust as he cums into your mouth, ‘holy fuck,’ he says breathlessly, pulling away from you.

you swallow the liquid and wipe your mouth, sitting back on the bed.

‘i don’t think i can go to dinner like this,’ you laugh, your mascara now smudged and the nude lipstick you’d chosen now anywhere but your lips.

‘you look perfect to me,’ he leans down, kissing your swollen lips, ‘we do actually have to go though.’

-

you wake up to an empty bed and hushed arguing in the next room.

‘i told you.. well i can't.. i don't think you're listening..’ you can only hear snippets of the conversation but you can tell steve is annoyed.

5:24am

the clock reads and you sigh, it could be one of two things: nancy or work, honestly the thought of either was annoying.

he climbs back into bed, almost an hour later, wrapping his arm around your waist and pressing himself against your back.

‘who was that?’ you mumble, voice full of sleep.

‘oh, it’s just work.. needed me to sign off on some things,’ he says, hiding his face in your neck.

‘you sounded angry,’ you note.

he combs your hair with his fingers, exposing the back of your neck and planting light kisses to the skin.

‘i was, it’s five am on a saturday, i don’t want to be woken up because idiots can’t do their job,’ he mutters into your neck.

from the conversation you could hear, that was evidently not work, in fact you’d literally heard him hiss nancy’s name down the phone multiple times.

but it’s far easier to just ignore, rather than argue about why his wife was calling so early and why he was so angry about it.

‘okay,’ you wriggle around to face him, slinging your leg over his, intertwining them.

‘it’s too early to be awake.. go back to sleep baby,’ he tilts his head down to place a kiss to your forehead.

your heart skips a beat at the intimacy and you’re so nearly tempted to just blurt out that you actually think you’re in love with him. but you bite your tongue, not wanting to ruin the weekend.

-

you’re sat opposite steve in some incredibly fancy restaurant when he slides a thin box across the table.

you look at him, puzzled, ‘what’s that?’

‘just open it,’ he sits back in his chair, smiling.

you take the lid off slowly revealing a stunning diamond encrusted bracelet.

'steve.. no, i can't accept this..' you slide the box back over to him.

he takes the box, carefully taking the bracelet out of it and grabbing your wrist, he clasps the bracelet and places your hand back on your lap.

you admire the glistening jewellery now adorning your wrist, 'you really didn't have to,' you beam back at him.

'but i wanted to, i'm glad you like it,' he takes a swig of wine, gazing over at you.

'thank you, i love it,' you lean across the table, placing a light kiss to his lips.

'good,' he smiles against your lips, as you sit back in your chair.

you look around the busy restaurant, 'you look like my sugar daddy, you know,' giggling.

he groans, 'god, i don't look that old, do i?'

you jut out your bottom lip sarcastically, 'ooh, i'd say.. 48.. on a good day.'

'wow.. i think i've still got the receipt for that bracelet,' he remarks.

you reach over and take his hand, 'no, you look great for your age, though i can see some greys peaking through,' you laugh.

he shakes his head in response, a slight smile on his lips. your humour was lost on him, though you'd tried to get him to understand some of your jokes and references, it was useless. he'd actually asked you to help him set up an instagram account, so he could 'be friends with you' on there.

you intertwine your fingers, 'no, you really do look great.'

'i know,' he winks and you roll your eyes at the sheer cockiness.

the waitress walks over with plates of foods, noticing his ringed finger intertwined with yours. you catch the slight frown she flashes you and drop his hand, a sudden wave of guilt flashing over you.

_

emma notices the new bit of bling straight away, gushing at your new present.

'i'm gonna assume it's not ending anytime soon then?' she asks, admiring your wrist.

you groan as your palm hits your forehead, 'i don't know.. nancy called him when we were away.. he told me it was work but i'm not stupid.. anyway, i've never heard him so angry.. it was weird,' you shake your head, looking to your roommate for advice.

'hmm.. that is weird.. maybe she found something? like the receipt to that bracelet.. i know i'd be angry as shit if i found that without the bracelet..' she suggests, finally giving letting go of your arm.

'i dunno.. he said she was away this weekend.. some conference or something, so surely she wasn't home to find it?'

'oh, well.. i actually have no explanation for that.. just ask him, what's the worst that could happen?'

you think back to the time you'd made an off-the-cuff joke about nancy's name on his phone and how he immediately went into a foul mood, 'why are you bringing her up? i'm here with you, okay? we don't need to talk about my wife.'

though, he did occasionally use you as someone to rant to about her, telling you about how loveless his marriage was, how she barely even looked at him anymore and how really he was just looking for the right time to divorce her. you knew to keep your mouth shut and just listen because as soon as you'd ask a follow-up question about her, he'd shut his mouth.

'god no.. we don't talk about her.. i'm sure it was nothing.. if it was that bad he woulda gone home, right?'

'yeah.. exactly, don't stress about it.. not with that on your wrist,' she chuckles. she didn't exactly help, only appeasing your delusions but you still appreciated her words of not-so-much wisdom nonetheless.

_

you fluff your hair up, making sure the curls sat perfectly before smoothing out your floor length gown and heading out to the taxi steve had booked you outside.

you'd attended a handful of the business dinners with steve before, the general consensus you'd gathered were that the women that accompanied these men were girlfriends, rather than wives. every single suited man sat around your table had a gorgeous, younger woman on their arm and a wedding band on their fourth finger. you included.

it was also incredibly evident that although these men had girlfriends, none of you had boyfriends.

this dinner was different, half of the team were going to be there so you and steve had to be totally unconcerned with each other. he'd booked a room for you both at the hotel after you'd pretend to try and find a cab with your colleagues.

you walk into the large hall, alongside a few of the people from the office.

you spot steve, dressed to the nines not that he ever didn't make an effort. and then you see nancy stood beside him, wearing a pale pink gown. the exact shade steve had previously convinced you not to buy as it was 'boring'.

you're slightly taken aback as she never usually attended these things, but you brush it off, sitting down where your placeholder inked your name. conveniently your seat was opposite steve at the large round table. he'd surely been responsible for the placing.

the night trundles on, many large glasses of white wine consumed. you pick up on the fact nancy is on the water, so vehemently shutting down any offers of wine.

'i love your bracelet, y/n.. it's gorgeous,' carol states taking your wrist into her hand.

'i know, my daddy bought it for me, a congratulations present,' you smile.

steve chokes on the wine in his mouth, causing a clatter of plates and cutlery as everyone's eyes land on him.

'excuse me, must've gone down the wrong hole,' he shoots you an irked look which you brush off, downing another glass of wine.

you're positively tipsy when nancy stands from the table, nudging steve to stand next to her, she clears her throat, 'steve and i wanted to make a little announcement.. we're pregnant!'

your heart drops. you'd known from the second you noticed she wasn't drinking. the fact she was even in attendance should've been a tell tale sign.

you press your lips together in a forced smile, eyes planted on nancy, rather than the massive dickhead stood next to her. you didn't hate her, how could you? she'd done nothing wrong.

you join in on the applause, even going up to congratulate her still choosing to ignore steve.

the rest of the night goes by in a blur, nancy leaves at some point or another, coming up to hug you goodbye, her kindness making your stomach turn.

your other phone buzzes at the end of the night as you stand besides your colleagues waiting for a cab. you'd intended to just hop in and go home, leaving steve on his own in the overpriced hotel room.

'where are you? there's a key under your name at the desk'

you swallow, making up some pathetic excuse to go back inside the hotel to your colleagues. they flash a few knowing looks to each other before saying goodbye as you stumble up the stone steps and into the reception.

'uhh.. y/n y/l/n.. there should be a key..?' you question the polite lady at the front desk.

she hands you a plastic keycard, 'yes, room 906.. have a nice evening,' she smiles at you.

you're on a mission to get to steve, the anger unfolding in your stomach as you press the elevator button. it dings on the ninth floor and you step out, unlocking the sixth door.

steve is stood at the desk, pouring two glasses of wine as you walk in.

he can tell instantly that you're angry, in fact you were positively furious.

'are you joking? she's fucking pregnant, steve! did you not think to let me know?' you screech, throwing your bag down and storming over to his position.

he raises his hands in defeat, 'i was going to tell you.. i promise, she just sprung it on me saying she was going to do it tonight.. i had no choice,' he's so calm with his words, you almost believe him.

'hah, get fucked.. you've known for god knows how long and not told me, you expect me to believe you?' you spit at him, jabbing a finger into his chest.

'yes, because it's the truth.. why would i ever choose to announce such news here? especially to you.. you mean much more to me than that.'

'do you seriously think this can continue? she's pregnant, for fuck's sake,' you stare daggers into him, wishing you weren't so hopelessly in love with the caramel eyes that stared back.

'why not? it wasn't a problem when she wasn't pregnant.. now you want to take the moral high ground? it's far too late for that,' his jaw is tense.

'it's different! and you know that!' you jab his chest against as his hand grabs your wrist, constraining you.

'why'd you come here then? you could've gone home, hell i'll book you a cab right now, if it's what you want,' the side of his mouth ever so curls up into a slight smirk. already knowing your answer.

'i came up here to tell you to get fucked,' ignoring his offer for a cab.

'okay, you've done that.. you're still here,' he cocks his head to the side slightly.

'get fucked.'

his lips crash onto yours, your arm snakes around his neck as you kiss him back, eyes squeezed shut.

you yank at the back of his hair, the kiss desperate and full of breathless moans as he presses you back against the desk. much like the night that had started this whole affair.

he pulls away, spinning your body round and holding onto the back of your neck, bending you over the desk.

his fingers unzip your dress, sliding it down your body as his large hands slide up your thighs, settling on your waist.

you hold your weight up on the desk, feeling his already erect cock pressing against you. he takes your wrists in his hand, practically slamming the side of your face down against the wood.

you groan in response, he unknots his tie and wraps it around your wrists and tying it in a tight knot.

he rips your panties off with such force they sting your thigh, causing you to inhale sharply.

'are you gonna take my cock? huh? you gonna be a good girl?' he puts his hand on the side of your face, pressing you down onto the desk.

you nod under his palm, 'c'mon i wanna hear your words, baby.'

'y-yes,' you manage to mumble out, he slaps his cock on your slick entrance. it pained you to say it but this was turning you on ridiculously, he was rarely this dominant with you.

'good,' he thrusts into you with no warning, grabbing onto the tie around wrists, holding them tight behind your back.

you gasp as he continues to pound into you, steve pulls your body up towards his your back flush against his chest, he growls into your ear, 'you're such a good girl.. much better when your pretty little mouth is moaning for me.'

his hand creeps around your neck, balls slapping against the back of your thighs, unintelligible moans tumble out of your lips as his pace quickens, slamming into you with his fingers squeezing your neck.

his thrusts falter as he grumbles into your ear, 'fuck,' you can feel him shudder behind you, filling you up.

steve pulls out, standing back just watching you in the precarious position.

'you're cute when you're angry but i prefer you like this, i might just have to leave you like this,' he smirks, pulling his boxers back up around his waist.

'please, untie me,' you bargain, attempting to wriggle free but it was useless.

'only because you said please,' he unties the knot, freeing your wrists as he stands right behind you.

'have you got something i can wear?' you turn to look at him, admiring his sweaty chest, heaving up and down.

'in my bag,' he grabs your arm, pulling you back to him, 'you're staying here?'

you nod, pulling away and walking over to the brown leather bag on the bag, finding a black t-shirt and a pair of his boxers, slipping them on.

he walks over to the bed, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, ‘i knew you would, though i will say i did enjoy your little performance earlier.’

you roll your eyes, ‘it wasn’t a performance, i’m still angry with you.’

‘hmm, thought i might’ve fucked it out of you, but clearly not,’ he chuckles and you almost melt at the feeling of his chest vibrating against your back.

‘i’m tired, i’ve got no energy to fight with you again,’ you sigh.

he leans down, kissing the back of your neck before removing his arms, ‘thank god for that, not sure my back would last another round like that.’

you slide into the big bed, pulling the covers around your shoulders. you really should’ve just gone home, but the thought of having to get a cab after all of that was too much.

quite honestly, you knew this would be your last night with steve. there was no way you could continue the relationship knowing nancy was at home pregnant with his child. it wasn’t necessarily the thought of her being pregnant either, but the fact that he loved her, and not you.

he climbs into bed next to you, snaking his arm around your waist and pulling you closer. you snuggle into his chest, exhaling as you lay your head on his shoulder. slowly drifting off to sleep.

-

you wake up to the sunrise, creeping in through the drawn curtains.

6:34am your phone reads.

you sigh, carefully sliding out of the bed, as to not wake the snoring steve next to you.

not intending to still be here when he awoke.

you slip on the dress you’d worn last night, over his black tee, deciding it was only fair that you also took his suit jacket, for your modesty.

taking the other phone he’d given to you and leaving it alongside the bracelet he’d most recently gifted, on the bed.

you can’t help but steal a quick glance of him, the last time you’d see him in such a peaceful state.

picking up the uncomfortable heels you’d worn last night and creeping out of the hotel before he had the opportunity to sweet talk you into continuing the affair.

-

monday morning is dire in the office. you hadn’t spoken to steve since friday evening. even though he’d tried. even breaking the number one rule he’d set out for you: don’t use his personal number for anything.

you’d received a text in the middle of saturday morning,

‘please call me, it’s urgent.’

smart man, knowing that he could so easily play it off as some work emergency. you ignored of course. too busy sobbing into emma’s arms to care.

you pull open the top drawer of your desk, and there lies the phone you’d left in the hotel, right next to the glimmering bracelet.

there was already a text message on the phone screen,

‘come to my office as soon as you see this.’

you choose to ignore once again, closing the drawer and continuing with the work on your screen.

what you couldn’t see was steve getting agitated in his office, surely you had seen the message by now?

there’s an hour until the end of the day when carol trundles over to your desk, ‘mr. harrington has requested you in his office.’

you sigh, standing from your chair and strutting over to his door. three knocks on the wood before he tells you to enter, and you do, closing the door behind you.

‘what the fuck are you playing at?’

‘what?’

‘you know exactly what.. you didn’t get my messages?’

‘no i did,’ you stare at him as steps forward towards you.

‘you didn’t think to reply? you left in the middle of the night, you could’ve been dead for all i knew,’ he snaps.

‘well i’m not, i thought you would’ve taken the hint and realised i don’t want to speak to you,’ you shuffle backwards as he gets closer.

'i don't understand, i thought we sorted this mess out at the hotel? now what? you don't want to do this anymore?' he tilts his head slightly, staring at you.

'yes, exactly that,' you nod, crossing your arms over your chest.

'well.. that's your choice, but i am telling you now that nothing between us will change.. there's no reason to end this now,' he moves closer, now only mere inches away from you.

'i can't steve, i won't do it anymore..' a tear slides down your cheek, quick to wipe it away, 'you know.. very well that i love you.. i can't watch you have a kid with her while i feel like this,' you're crying now, attempting to speak through the sobs.

'you know how i feel about you..' he cups your face in his hands, but you pull back, jerking your face away.

'say it then.'

'i- wel..' he fumbles over himself, unable to speak the words you were so desperate to hear.

you can't help but smile, despite your bottom lip quivering, a sob threatening to erupt.

'look.. i- it's just difficult-,' he stammers.

you walk over to the door, back facing him, as he grits his teeth, irritated at how quickly you were willing to leave this.

'i'll.. uh, i'll get you transferred to our brooklyn office.. i think you'll be very happy there.'

you scoff and walk out of his office for the last time, slamming the door behind you. you can feel the collective stare from the office as you walk to the bathroom, tears streaming down your cheeks.

and you truly realise, girls like you weren’t ever supposed to be like nancy. you were forever going to be a girlfriend. or the other woman, not good enough for pole position but always, always good enough to hang off of their arm as eye candy. steve could move you to another office, out of sight out of mind, right?

but another you would come along just as fast as you had, stealing pathetic glances across the office, sly touches in the staff room, the gifts and then it’d all get too much. wives get suspicious and she’d be shipped off just as quick as you were.

you're sat in a cubicle crying quietly when you can hear the bathroom door open.

'y/n..?' there's a light knock to the door, 'can i come in?' you click the lock, allowing her to come in.

it's carol, steve's sweet little assistant walks in and bends down to your level.

you furrow your brows in confusion but she looks softly back at you, a slight frown on her face.

'i don't know... exactly.. what's been going on.. but, i do know that you are far too good for that man, men like him.. they get off on ruining young girls,' she wipes your cheek with her thumb, 'but you.. you're not going to let him ruin you, okay?'

you sniffle, looking up at her with a small smile, 'okay..'

'you walk out of here with your head held high and you forget all about him,' she puts her hands on your shoulders, rubbing slightly.

what you didn't know was that you weren't the first young girl to leave this office because of him and you most certainly wouldn't be the last. she'd bore witness to girls full of ambition joining the office to end up with a head crammed with dreams about their relationship with steve. only to end up the exact same way as you, hopelessly in love with a married man.

[rosalie-starfall]

1, 2, 11, 20 ❤️

What song makes you feel better? - I have a whole playlist of songs for just this purpose.

All the songs on this list make me feel better and put my soul at ease

2. What is your go to comfort show? - I have a lot of comfort shows, Right now Ghosts is my current comfort show, But I can always rely on 30 Rock, Cheers, Hot in Cleveland, and then of course essentially all of Star Trek (But mostly TNG and Voyager).

Also I cannot recommend Alexandra Gater enough if you are looking for fun sweet comfort feels in an interior design show on youtube. (She and the AG team are amazing and I love the show and it's smart and effective renter/budget friendly designs. I'm essentially finished with designing my space but I still love to watch because its adorable and gives me even more ideas to make the space better)

11. Do you have a comfort item? Tell us about it! - I have a few Sweaters that I absolutely love to wear around the house. I am almost always wearing one of them when I'm at home, I also just completed a little book nook. It give me great comfort.

20. Tell us about a memory you hold close to your heart. - The time my moms flip flop broken when we went to the movies. I wrote about this memory before so I'm gonna paste the story:

IDK exactly what the hardest was but I have a few that are up there. One time my mom and I were at the Alamo to see The Spy Who Dumped Me. (I think) When the movie ended we had got up to leave I was in front of her and I wound up way ahead of her so I yelled back what the deal was. She was scooting her foot along the floor almost like a limp and just kind of laughing. Her flip flop had broken and she was trying to keep it on her foot but also trying to walk.  We were at the very last theater in the building so she took forever to walk the distance to back the lobby and watching her try and walk like that had my dying of laughter and that in turn made her laugh even harder. I honestly thought I might throw up I was laughing so hard. I told her to just take her shoe off but she said she had to use the restroom so she didn’t want to go into the public bathroom barefooted. (Totally understandable) To get away from her and to try and calm my giggles down and catch my breath I decided to go pull the car up so she wouldn’t have to walk all the way back to the car with her broken flip flop.  It was so dumb but seriously so funny and even me writing this out and remembering it I’m crying from laughing again. I really think that might have been the hardest I ever laughed.  I’ll just add the time that she and I were going to brunch and I was looking at my phone and not paying attention as she drove to the end of our block she waved at one of our neighbors that was working in his yard. Because I wasn’t paying attention with my head down I didn’t know she was waving at someone. All I saw was her holding her hand up so I gave her a High Five thinking that’s what she was waiting for. We laughed for a good 10 Minutes that time. She had to pull the car over because she was laughing so hard she (We) started crying.

[inaviolentnature]

NO-SKIP ALBUMS tag game

i wasn’t formally tagged in this- i saw @crumb ’s post and i really wanted to do it! i had an extremely hard time picking albums so i picked the ones that i feel like had a big impact on me/were prominent at some point in my life. i’m tagging @faggotfungus @allmoshnobrain @blowfishinthisup because ya’ll are my main music mutuals but no pressure! only do it if you want to!!

rules: share the albums that you can listen to nonstop. those lightning in a bottle-albums that scratch ur brain just right. every single track, an absolute banger. u could not skip one if u tried. no notes. stunning, show-stopping, immaculate. ur no-skip albums.

bonus & optional rules: 1) add a track rec for us to listen to! AND 2) share ur favorite line(s) from that track!

albums and track recs:

SWAGGER - FLOGGING MOLLY

selfish man: i don’t eat i just devour / been running every hour / all is me is all i need and that’s all that i care

ROMCOM - JAKEY

drive off a bridge: tell my lover that i’m sorry for these days i couldn’t save / know i love you from the morning to the night i drive away

NO CONTROL - BAD RELIGION

no control: there’s no vestige of a beginning, no prospect of an end / when we all disintegrate, it will all happen again / if you came to conquer you’ll be king for a day / but you too will deteriorate and quickly fade away

STARCRAWLER - STARCRAWLER

chicken woman: you think she’s mine / so maybe she is / but she ain’t got time for your foolish little tricks

THE MEANEST OF TIMES - DROPKICK MURPHYS

shattered: shattered, when people aren’t always what they seem / shattered, when the ones that we rely on break their word

BRIDGE OVER TROUBLED WATER - SIMON AND GARFUNKEL

keep the customer satisfied: i get slandered / libel / i hear words i never heard in the bible /and i’m one step ahead of the shoe shine / two steps away from the county line / just trying to keep the customer satisfied

ROCKISDEAD - DOROTHY

medicine man: hey, you, medicine man / set me free and change my ways / hey, you, give me a holler / give me a holler, what do you say?

MY HEAD IS AN ANIMAL - OF MONSTERS & MEN

from finner: and the waves that hit his face, marked the past / and the farrows of his skin, oh how time goes fast / and we are far, far from home / but we’re so happy

VENEMOUS RAT REGENERATION VENDOR - ROB ZOMBIE

the girl who loved the monsters: i am a child in need / watch me bleed / how can i live if i cannot feed? / i am an animal / no one knows / i limp around on broken toes

ALL OF THIS AND NOTHING - THE PSYCHEDELIC FURS

president gas: don’t cry, don’t do anything / no lies, back in my government / no tears, party time is here again / president gas is up for president

VILLIANS - EMMA BLACKERY

villians part one: i am a maverick / built to create / designed to destroy / and i am the quiver in your bones when you get annoyed

TOXICITY - SYSTEM OF A DOWN

ATWA: hey you, see me, pictures crazy / all the world i’ve seen before me, passing by / you don’t care about how i feel / i don’t feel there anymore

JOY AS AN ACT OF RESISTANCE- IDLES

samaritans: the mask of masculinity / is a mask, a mask that’s wearing me

ALL HOPE IS GONE - SLIPKNOW

sulfur: but the longest hours you’ll have in your life / are the ones you sit through to know if you’re right

METALLICA (THE BLACK ALBUM) - METALLICA

the god that failed: pride you took, pride you feel / pride that you felt when you’d kneel / not the word, not the love / not what you thought from above

[sl-newsie]

Behind Masks (Dr. Jonathon Crane x OC) Ch. 8: Driven to the Edge

As far as prison riots go… No. This is still bad. Between the psychotic screaming and the wicked grin on Dr. Crane’s face I don’t think it can get much worse.

“You’re not really going to take up that offer, are you?” I ask once the brute frees him from the straight jacket.

“Perhaps not. I guess no discrete escape will be in order.”

We both lean out to check the damage outside. Luckily all attention is focused on running amuck and trying to destroy everything.

“They did the hard work for us. Now we just need to get outside-”

“Ah!” The doctor hisses. “They did something to my ankle…”

Sure enough his foot and ankle have swelled around his shoe. How am I going to work with this?

“You can’t walk. This complicates things. But at least you've still got your looks.”

Crane stops trying to put pressure on his foot and looks up with an annoyed glare. “Are you seriously trying to make me feel better?” Talk about unappreciation.

I cross my arms. “Maybe it’s Dr. Quinzel’s empathy treatment talking. You’re right, this isn’t called for.” I swap my sympathy for dry sarcasm. “Sorry, Crane. Your injuries have left you hideously scarred beyond repair. God help your pathetic face.”

“That sounds more like you,” Crane grunts as he limps into the hall.

“Hold on. Here.” I bring over a crutch despite his reluctance for it. “You won’t get ten feet down the hall.”

“I’m not weak-!”

“I never said you are. Now either shut up and follow me or I’m leaving without you.”

The gun still has ammunition. Hopefully I won’t have to use it but I’m not going into that mess unprotected. 

“I see you’re packing heat now,” Crane comments, still holding the Scarecrow mask.

“Courtesy of Baxton. Now let’s go.”

Before he can argue I usher him down the hall. The good news is that we’re in a wing of Arkham that’s close to an exit. The bad news is that now the inmates see us. 

“Get away!” One man screeches. “N-Nightmares!”

“It’s the fear doctor!”

His reputation is never a pleasant one. Most people run away or pay little mind to us as I jog through the hallway. Unfortunately there are a few who try to get a little too close for my taste.

“Hey girlie- Ah!” One guy even goes as far as to brush his hand against my shoulder, to whom I give a good punch to his nose.

Crane does little to show any response to this, though he does seem amused. “Self-defense class?”

“Dad wanted me to strive for everything. Even shooting a gun. But I don’t plan on-”

“There you are!”

Baxton’s back. And he does not look happy. Frankly I’m surprised he can even walk right now.

“Get back here!” He lunges for me and yanks on my hair.

Crack. This man has been on my nerves since day one. Even worse than Crane. The rage that’s been boiling inside me bubbles over and in a split second my mind goes blank in a fit of fury-fueled chaos. Something inside me snaps.

Bang!

Why did I… What- Oh God.

Smoke is still hanging in the air. Inmates are still running amuck. But Baxton is no longer standing in my way. He’s not standing at all. He’s sprawled on the floor while blood leaks from the bullet hole in his head onto the clean white tiles. 

I.. I k… I ki…!

“Never thought you had it in you.” Did Crane talk or is it in my mind? “Let’s go.”

He limps past me but I can’t move. My feet are cemented to the ground. All I can think about is what I committed just seconds ago.

I struggle to find my voice and keep staring at the gun in my hand. “No, you don’t understand. I killed him.”

“He was asking for it,” Crane shrugs.

“I killed him! I took life from another human being, the very opposite of what my job requires! I took an oath to do no harm and I have just violated one of the most vital commandments!”

“You’re deeply religious?”

My eyes flash in anger. “Stop analyzing me! Yes, I am religious because it’s one of the few things keeping me sane! I am a psychiatrist, not a cop! I’m not trained to kill, I’m trained to help people.”

What- Who am I now? Gotham has driven me to be the type of person who belongs behind these bars. A criminal…

Then so be it.

“Where are you going?” Crane asks when I walk past him, not bothering to look back.

“I’m a murderer,” I mutter darkly. “I can’t take it back. Calico’s raging a storm on Gotham and Hell’s coming with me.”

Behind me I hear Crane limping to catch up. “What does that mean?”

“It means that all the lying, sleazy, corrupt bastards better watch their backs. They made me into this, now they gotta face the results.”

More inmates crowd the hall and give me strange looks, but let me pass when they see the gun in my hand. The exit sign is an all-new miracle. And what’s even better is that the rest of the guards completely ignore me when I walk through. Will they miss Baxton?

“Freedom!” I gasp and sprint out into the cement courtyard. 

Crisp night air sharpens my senses and invites liberating possibility; however my burst of excitement is quickly ended by my pressing guilt. What can I do now? If I go to the authorities they will just lock me back up. I can’t go back home because my license is surely stricken from all records by now. If only…

“Look at all this!” Dr. Crane gawks astonishingly at the crazed entropy flooding the streets. 

Everything is cloaked in a damp mist. Something about the smell is familiar… Fear toxin. All around us more inmates flee into the surrounding neighborhoods, no doubt to wreak terror on the unfortunate and unsuspecting residents. 

“Is there nothing we can do to stop them?”

“Stop them?” Crane looks confused. “Why would we do that? This is a perfect social experiment! Besides, what’s Gotham done to make you want to play the hero? I thought you were all for ‘raging’ revenge on Gotham.”

We walk to the gate and my conscious tugs at both sides of me. “All I did was try to point out the truth. Justice here doesn’t fit the crime. Now that I’m broken, now that I see what justice earns you, I see that justice here is a waste of time. So I will have to find it on my own.”

“Another vigilante. Perfect,” Crane drones.

“I’m not a rebel and I’m not an angel. Is it too much to ask for something in-between?”

In the chaos a stray police horse comes trotting by. Sure, why not? What other random thing can happen at this point? Crane grabs its bridle and mounts the giant animal. Oh. And now the Scarecrow is riding a horse.

“Things may be shades of gray in Metropolis but here it's black in white. You’re either with us or against us.”

Crane won’t be a part of my plan. If anything he’ll just make matters worse. And he proves it by pulling out a set of toxin canisters from his pocket.

“You go right ahead, Dr. Prentiss. Meanwhile I’m going to abide by that man’s instructions and have a little fun.”

“You said you weren’t going to use any toxin!”

He smirks down at me. “I lied. This is much too good of an opportunity to pass up.”

I shake my head, both in disappointment and epiphany. “So that’s what the water does. That was the plan… Turn Gotham into a stampede of crazed, fear-driven lunatics.”

“Ra’s al Ghul wanted to bring the city to its knees and recreate a better society,” Crane explains. “When he offered to fund my experiments in exchange for my fear toxin I couldn’t say no.”

This Ra’s al Ghul character is exactly the type of person who would employ Dr. Crane. Both seem to share a philosophy on social economics and believe that the city should be rebuilt.

“Is there any part of you that has a tiniest fraction of humanity?” I attempt one last time to find an inkling of emotion in this shell of a man.

From on top of the horse Crane hesitates to pull his mask on. His eyes get a look that I can’t exactly decipher. “Fear drives me, dear. It’s my life’s calling. My muse, my mistress, my quartermaster. One cannot ignore their calling if it slaps them in the face.”

“There are better ways to study fear-!”

“No, there isn’t! If people are given any warning in advance or assurance of safety then fear is lost! You studied psychology, you know that! In order to obtain the most prime results people must be put through genuine danger to generate pure, unquestionable fear.”

He pulls the burlap mask on and nudges the horse to start trotting, disappearing into the crowd of crazed victims. If all of this mist contains fear toxin then why aren’t I seeing anything? Don’t think too hard, Prentiss. It doesn't matter. I just need to get out of here alive.

[payservewomen]

It’s official. I’ve genuinely become addicted to a self destructive gumbo of humiliation, findom, and femdom. But it’s far more than that…..I’ve purchased and watched countless “negative affirmation” videos, all of which are designed to cause real emotional pain.

I’ve come to learn that most of the men who are in similar situations, are far less self aware than I am.

I fully understand how and why I gravitated towards various types of self harm. Most of the men I’ve talked to….they are in denial, unaware of obvious issues they’re facing….or they simply have vastly different reasons that they hate themselves…understandable reasons.

At least they make sense! But me? I lost my virginity at 17yo, and had regular sex w/my girlfriend, who I broke up with several months later…I began dating another woman, only weeks later and we started fucking 2months later….I fell madly in love with her….

Years later, I was engaged to a rich woman…tbh she was far more in love with me, than I was her…Point is, I’ve had a relatively normal sex life, until my then fiancée, Emma, dumped me. I was 30yrs old. I’m turning 41 in less than 2 weeks, and Emma was the last girl I fucked..Successfully anyway

1 week after she dumped me, a sexy friend did sit on my cock…but only 1 pump and I wasn’t hard enough to continue. We continued hanging out, drinking etc…but i never tried anything…neither did she

Years later I fucked an extremely obese woman I wasn’t attracted to at all…I lasted much longer this time, maybe even close to a minute, and I was so exhausted, and went limp once again….

Over the next couple years, I went to massage parlors, mostly getting awful handjobs, from old women.

I tried having sex twice….and you guessed it! Not only did I go limp, but I never even got fully erect in the first place!

Oh wait, and another time….u already know what happened…

Past few years, I’ve paid women to be cruel to me. I’ve been beaten badly, had clothing taken from me, having to walk miles home in a thong and tank top. I’ve served as an ash tray, I’ve licked the bottoms of shoes…I’ve purchased used panties online, as well as garbage. Yes, I have paid $30 for pretty girls literal garbage…..I’ve humiliated myself for sadistic women’s amusement…Used my toothbrush in and on my asshole, then brushed my teeth…I chewed up raw eggs, then spit the egg onto my dirty floor, then slurped it back up, spit it into my hands and rubbed it all over my face, then continued edging myself until it all dried.

Look at what I just wrote! It’s all 100% true and there’s plenty more. How can I possibly think that there’s any real chance that I’ll beat this addiction?!

The chances are that I’ll continue paying the domme I serve. Yesterday she told me how much she hates me….and def won’t let me forget how disgusting my body is, and how ugly I am….I’m so desperate to please her…I def think she’s greatly enjoyed bullying me…especially when extremely violent. It seems to escalate every other time, and she recently posted a vid of a girl kicking a guy hard it the face, and she implied she wanted to do that.

I’m scared in many ways, but excited….There really isn’t anything I can think of that I would flat out refuse to do, if she told me to….Like what if one day she tells me to eat her shit? I do not in any way shape or form have a fetish for scat either…but I know that I would put her shit in my mouth, and at least try to swallow it….I am aroused at the thought of eating her boogers or period blood….As I type this, I feel such extreme shame…My dick is very slightly erect but I won’t stop tugging on it

Figure I should flick my balls, because ofc that’s what a loser as pathetic as me deserves

[mvltisstuff]

RIP 2 my youth - lumax.

summary: after the events of season 4, lucas has a whole new level of grief to deal with

lucas sinclair x max mayfield

the smell of antiseptics and cleaned bed sheets wafted to lucas’ nose. he sat quietly in the chair next to the hospital bed, gripping onto max’s limp hand. the mumbling of the doctors outside was silenced in his mind by the replaying of his experience of the last week.

having to witness his best friend, and the girl he loves, get brutally attacked. his little sister, erica, having to give up her innocent eyes to the violence of the upside down. his friend and mentor was killed, and his other best friend, dustin, would never be the same.

his innocent eyes were killed by the underworld. he and his friends could never be the same again after all this trauma, but they could try. and they would.

everything had changed in such a little amount of time. lucas had learnt to cope with everything around him and the situation he was in. he learned to face the alternate reality of the world he lived in at such a young age. he felt like he was forced into a world he never wanted to be a part of, and he felt like it was his fault for ever trying to fix anything.

now, lucas was staring at max. she had bruised eyes, a neck brace, and her face seemed close to lifeless. her diagnosed coma was just a matter of time before she fought through it, or succumbed to the afterlife. lucas would kill to know what’s going on inside of her head, but he didn’t have any fight left.

he woke up every day, 10:00 AM on the dot to visit her. he got dressed, ate breakfast, and his mother drove him down the intensive care unit to see his best friend.

ever since he met max, she was his king. now that she was in this condition, he tried to step into that position and he now had to fill both shoes. he wrote all his words down, because he wasn’t able to convey them across and say them to her. he felt stupid. he felt like an idiot for believing she would wake up when all the doctors and tests and scans told him otherwise.

on the next week of seeing her, lucas brought his crinkled notebook paper with him. he shoved it into his jean pocket and sat in the same chair as always. his shaking hand slowly pulled out the piece of paper and began reviewing the smudged pen.

“i’m not good at this, as you know. if you can hear me. um,” lucas paused, not knowing if he should bother to continue. “dustin’s alright. he’s been having a hard time with eddie’s death. he’s trying to hide it from everyone so he seems tougher, but he’s just hurting more. uh… hopper came back, with eleven and joyce, and will and mike. so we’ve only hung out once. he’s alive, max. he’s alive and he’s ok. steve’s good. he misses you a lot. we got school off because of the…” lucas realizes what he’s saying and makes up a lie again. “the earthquake.

lucas shakes his head and rubs the back of his neck. “maybe when you come home, we can catch that movie sometime.”

his heart shatters a little, thinking about their missed date. he wanted it to be perfect, and his optimism took over his mind. not thinking about the aftermath that vecna would rain down on hawkins.

“i wrote you something. i didn’t build up the guts to say it, cause i know you’d make fun of me. you’ll make fun of me, but who really cares.” he shined a half smile, trying to make light of the pitch dark situation.

lucas begins with a shaky start of the letter. he reads it over and looks at max, her weak body on the bed with the small grains of fight she has left.

with a heavy sigh, lucas shoves the letter back into his pocket and takes out the book he’s reading to max. he reads the words on the page rather than words he actually means.

————————————————————————

laying down on his bed, lucas looks around his room. a few years ago, his young eyes would’ve seen new shiny figures, and silly dnd posters taped up around his bedroom. now, when lucas saw these things, he was a completely different room. his dusty figurines had lost their shine, physically and emotionally. his posters had become outdated and have become frighteningly close to a reality for the kids.

now looking at his situation, he felt the urge to tear down and shred all those posters. they weren’t an imagination anymore.

lucas stood up out of his bed and walked over to the biggest poster in his room. he grabbed onto the top and tore it down. the tape on the back was ripped off, and some of the chipped paint came with it. he saw the old colors of his bedroom and lightly grazed it with his fingers.

he stormed over to his bed, yanking out a cardboard box. the box was filled with old photos from holidays and summers with his friends. people like will, mike, dustin, his family. one in particular stood out to him.

————————————————————————

“steve can you look a little happier?” max protested.

“i’m taking a picture, max. not winning an award.” steve stood in his scoops ahoy uniform, awkwardly with the camera in his hand. “why do i need to look so thrilled?”

max had on her red, heart shaped sunglasses that sat on the top of her head. her ginger hair was waved and tucked neatly behind her ears. her pink cheeks were scrunched up in a light smile. her ice cream cone was dripping over the sides slightly onto her soft hands.

lucas stood next to her with his flowered button up over his white tee. his arm was over max’s shoulder. his bright neon shorts stood out at the bottom of the picture, showing the dirty sneakers at the bottom. his ice cream cup was to the side of his other arm, barely touched.

“he’s just mad stacey stood him up at enzo’s for bryan richards.” lucas whispered into max’s ear, making her grin shine in the bright lighting of the ice cream shop.

“hey! sinclair shut your mouth or i’m churching you triple for that scoop.” steve retorts back. lucas shakes his head in humility, and steve clicked the camera.

with a flash, the smiling picture of the two prints out and his handed to lucas.

————————————————————————

lucas started posting the photos on his wall, replacing the old game posters. he figured he didn’t need a game up there anymore, as it wasn’t as much of a game as it used to be. he covers up the chipped paint on his wall with the photos.

he sits back down on his bed with his eyes drawn to that one picture. he looks at his letter for max and rereads it and adjusts it until he thinks it’s perfect.

they protected each other, and even though they broke up, it was going to take a lot more to keep lucas away from her.

————————————————————————

“dear max,

i’m sorry. i never wanted to get you involved with this mess. when i was just 12, in middle school, playing a game in mikes basement, i thought of it as fiction. then will went missing, and i thought for a long time that nothing could be worse than this. i know you broke up with me, and i know you’re over me, but i should’ve known. i should’ve known something was off with you. i wish i could’ve helped you, but i know why you didn’t tell me. i wish i could’ve fixed it, but the tide went out and there’s no pulling it back in. it’s partially my fault. if you’d never believed me in the arcade, or if i never bothered to tell you, you could be here with me right now. talking and moving around, skateboarding and shit. i knew from the first day i saw you in the hallways that i wanted to go through this with you. i trusted you immediately and your strength was undefeated. max, i’d go through this a million times more to keep you out of this mess. the truth? i love you, max. i wish this was still an imagination. i wish i could shake myself awake and force myself out of this nightmare. this all still feels like a bad dream and i’m waiting for the day i wake up, come to your house, and we can hang out like nothing. as messed up as it sounds though, this mess and your situation has really opened my eyes wider than they’ve ever been. i’m done believing what the doctors have to say, because at this point, i’m done believing what anyone has to say about this shitty world. i need you, max. i cant go through this without you. so basically what i’m saying, vecna can bring down hell on us because he has nothing against us.

love,

lucas :)”

————————————————————————

lucas strutted his way through the hospital halls. confidently walking through the bright lights in his baggy sweatpants and hawkins zip up. he almost thought about getting rid of it now, because to him, hawkins is nothing but a lie at this point.

he stormed into max’s room like something had changed. it was all the same, besides her limbs were adjusted and her blanket had been pulled up, her brittle hands dropping over it.

lucas stood by her bedside, abandoning the chair next to it. he ripped the letter out of his jacket pocket and began to read it. beginning with another shaky, “dear max,” he clearly articulates every word as much as he means them. he gets halfway through to look at her, even though she looks still, except the slight rise and fall of her chest.

lucas finishes off the letter with a light, love lucas. he folds it up and places it onto her bedside table, nudging it under the bouquet of sunflowers. he looks back to see max, her expression different than before.

her nose scrunches up and down, forming small wrinkles on the bridge. lucas doesn’t think much of it, but he still makes note of it. her eyes twitch, and lucas gets more enthusiastic. “max?” he whispers, barely audible.

“max, hey.” he moves to the other side of the bed, gripping her hand. her iris’s rapidly move under her thin eyelids. “i’m here, max, lucas! hey, max!” he shakes it slightly, to not cause her more pain.

her bloodshot eyes finally open to reveal the blue shade of her eyes, surrounded by a flood of pinkish-white. her eyes move around the room frantically, her lips starting to move around the intubation. her eyes finally land on her one, lucas, and she rests her eyes a bit.

“max! you- you’re… i’m gonna call the nurse, max. holy shit!” he exclaims, abusing the call button on her remote.

one of the nurses comes sauntering in, not expecting anything. she looks around at max’s condition, looks down at the chart and looks back. her eyes widen and she comes closer. she presses a button on her pager and the doctors voice comes through. she mutters some medical terms that lucas doesn’t understand. surprisingly not yet, even though he’s been there every day.

the doctors come rushing in and another pool of nurses come in. “hey maxine, welcome back.” the doctor says, shining his flashlight in her eyes. lucas stands in the corner, completely star-struck at the sight in front of him. he’s scared, relieved, and all his emotions are coming together. “she’s breathing over the tube, i think we’re all set to take it out.” he sighs out. “i’ve never seen something like this. this young girl’s a force.”

one of the nurses walks over to lucas, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “honey, why don’t you step out into the hallway while they help her out?” lucas was ready to refrain, but he decides to not cause any problems. the nurse escorts him out of the room and to the chairs in the hallway.

lucas runs over to the public phone, dialing steve’s number into the phone. it rings and he frantically says, “steve! she’s awake! max, she- i saw her! she’s alive, steve!”

“slow down, sinclair. she’s awake?” steve yelps out.

————————————————————————

lucas sits in the uncomfortable waiting room chair, bouncing his leg and cracking his knuckles. he sees steve and dustin walking toward him like they’re on a mission. lucas shoots up and meets them halfway. “dustin! she’s up! she looked at me and- they’re taking her for testi-“

“hey, kid. calm down. it’s ok, we’re here.” steve says, patting lucas’ shoulder.

dustin sits down in the chair next to lucas and looks at him. “she’s really alive?”

“y-yeah. i think so, dustin.”

“jesus christ.” dustin whispers.

they wait, and wait. until one of the nurses is spotted by lucas. she walks over hesitating, “l-lucas?”

“yeah?” he stands up in front of her.

“she’s ok. we took her in for some tests. this is truly a miracle, we’ve never seen anything like this. she’s currently on ivs for medication and nutrients, but she’s awake.”

“can i see her? please.”

“yes, we can take you in a few minutes. she’s going to be confused, and probably scared, but it’ll help if she sees someone she knows and loves.”

his heart skips at the last sentence, but he knows he has to go in there. “oh, lucas.” the nurse is holding out a piece of paper. “this was on the floor of her room. do you have an idea of who’s it might be?”

“it’s mine. i left it there.”

“i figured, sweetheart. i didnt read any of it but i saw a name on there.” she smiles sweetly at him and directs him to the room.

he turns back to look at steve and dustin, who are now both sitting down. “get in there, sinclair.”

————————————————————————

lucas walks into the room, suddenly nervous. his anxiety was creeping up on him again, but he wouldn’t let it take control. this was his girl, and nothing was stopping him now. he was hesitant to walk in, but he stopped in the middle of the room.

a crackling of his name escaped max’s mouth. the rasp of her voice sounded painful, but all his anxiety evaporated hearing it.

“hey stalker.” max forces out, taking a few seconds in between each word. “nice letter.”

her voice flipped a switch in lucas. and after the tide comes back in, lucas is able to swim to shore.

and hearing her voice, he can breath again.

[grlcrazy]

I apologize but this will be long.

A man raped my mother and I was born. A young boy raped me for several years before I could even walk. I had sexual desire before I even knew what sex was. On top of all this, I was born a male.

Even if I transition, I will never have the opportunity to experience the woman I could have been. I have silenced my womanhood, my creativity, my spirituality, and my honesty for decades.

As long as I could remember, I long as I could remember I loved smelling feminine. If I can't be a woman, fuck, as least I can smell like one. I'll never forget it. One day I was shopping at Bath and Body Works and this woman comes up to me screaming that everything in the store is for a woman. She asked me why I was in the store. I was stealing her womanhood. I wanted to say, Bitch, please, but I walked out of the store, as always defeated.

It is so good to see so many people receive gender affirmation support yet our country hasn't evolved. I remember when Gwen Araujo was brutally murdered and Matthew Shepard murdered for being gay and his body was laid out for all to see, this is what happens when you are different, you die.

What's really fucked up about this. Everyone hates transgender people. I was 13 years old and walked into a gay club with my mother's wig and clothes. My mother was in her 70's. I didn't know what the fuck I was doing, it just felt good to feel like a woman. People gender-shamed me and I left in tears never to try to live truly again.

Fucking. Dick is like crack. I was 17 when I was fucked and wasn't raped. A soldier boy. He cum inside me and nothing in the world has felt so fucking good. That was it. No one or nothing ever felt that good ever again. I tried, but I am soft and reject anything hard. I stop fucking men because I had such control of my ass muscles most men would cum within seconds. How fun was that? I had a lover who was also transgender but when I felt his five o'clock shadow. I was done. I don't want my dick. You can have it. It does me no good. All it does is remind me how fucked up I truly am.

I am god damn 58 years old. I am married with children. What the fuck am I supposed to do. I have my soulmate but she is so homophobic she would probably kill me if she knew. People are especially transphobic. It is so degrading when she belittles one of my sisters.

This world is fucked up. The very men who talk shit about us and want to pass laws to silence us are the ones driving down our streets looking to put their little dicks in our asses and suck on our titles. I think they just don't want to be exposed.

I am writing this to ask you to fucking share with assholes who think that a transgender woman is dressing in women's clothes to fulfill some fucking personal fantasy. You have no idea what the fuck I have been through. Oh year, by the way, I know a ton of women who are fucked up because some CIS asshole wanted to own her, rape her, and have incest with her.

Mother Fuckers don't know. I have family members and friends who are escorts and sex workers. These so-called Christian conservatives are fucking us and going home to their wives acting as if they are somebody special.

We are fucking human beings with life experiences that your expensive dull-ass suit-wearing limp dick mother fucker would slice your wrists if you had to walk in our shoes.

So many of us are getting killed by these assholes and nobody gives a fuck. A fucked up human being shot up in the only place of safety in Colorado Springs for our community and you want to say your thoughts and prayers are with me. I do as Jesus did. You whitewash hypocrite. You are more concerned about your appearance than who you truly are. Man judges the outside and God judges our hearts. How's your heart, you bastard. I wish I could be like Will Smith. Take my savior's name out of your fucking mouth. Bitch.

I'll end with this. I will stand up and even die for my sisters. Ladies, don't waste this opportunity. Be authentic whatever that means to you. Don't let anyone define you in any way. Know that you are not alone. I have a lifetime of pain in my heart and this is the only way I can get rid of it. Please forgive me for taking up your time.

Please know that I love you and I am hurting too. Don't take your own life. If we die, let the blood be on the fuckers who put us in this place to be murdered. Religious my ass. They have a rude awakening when they die. God isn't some bitch they can control. They don't have a fucking clue even though they are doing sinister shit in the name of God. Don't let the bastards get to you.

Thank you for reading. I hope this helps someone. If anything, vent with me Sista.

#fuckedupshit #trans #transgender #bitchplease

[beesmygod]

very very specific call for information: anyone out there deal with out-toeing caused by external tibial rotation (duck feet from a fucked up tibia) AS AN ADULT?

im putting this out here because 1. theres like no fucking information on the entire internet about adults who never grew out of a common childhood problem (unlike children, who self-correct by strengthening muscles, my tibia is an inherited condition. mom has it but not nearly as bad) and 2. i just want to know more! especially what im looking at for recovery.

e: im me from the future. this post is so long and boring and navel gazey so i added images in the hopes it might trick you into wanting to share it.

i only just started this process yesterday: after a series of free association google searches stemming from the fear that i had developed peripheral artery disease at age 31, i discovered symptoms i had been attributing to other random issues (pain radiating down leg? i must be bloated and pressing down on a nerve. pain in shins when i walk even for a short while or up a single flight of stairs? i must be out of shape and destroying my body. knees swollen with fluid in the 4th grade? bursitis, etc) could pretty much all be traced back to my fucked up leg.

my right leg (/my/ right) is visibly fucked from the outside and always has been since i was born. the left is as well, although to a much less (and likely ignorable) extent than the right. i’ve know about this forever; my parents at one point took me to a doctor who was like “yeah she’s shaped like a twizzler” but didnt actually recommend any action. therefore, it was assumed by all that there was nothing we could do and i just had to suffer my junji ito uzamaki curse forever.

which would suck because it’s not great. my family was not receptive to any complaints i had about my body hurting growing up so i just gave up on giving a shit about it. i’m going to start from the top bottom on pain:

sometimes i walk with a limp because my hip and knee joint would work in tandem to get a sharp pain that makes putting weight on it hard.

during my period, i usually end up with at least a day or two where i get deep toothache like pain in my thigh. its always there, not throbbing, and it just. aches.

for some reason my body favors it so when im standing i find myself almost completely leaning on it (which just makes it hurt more later). i can feel myself fucking my knees up when i do this because of how it has to shift around the twisted bone.

my knees swell up every time i kneel and put weight on them (growing up catholic made this excruciating).

walking is a nightmare. i usually try my best to pretend like my shins (specifically) aren’t screaming from mild exertion. i bought a step machine thinking i was just out of shape and a big whiner but it didn’t ever get better no matter how much and how consistently i did it. i though i was just assigned a really dogshit corporeal form that wasn’t built for improvement.

dont even think about running, buddy. i flip flap around like im wearing clown shoes AND it hurts like a bitch.

speaking of which, i also trip and fall on my own feet a lot. the doctor asked me this like “you don’t find yourself falling a lot while walking, right?” and i had to laugh because i eat shit at least 2x a month. i have a huge scar on my foot from last year.

now im about to upload some pictures of my legs. try not to scream. ignore the bruises, i spent all day yesterday/day before completely re-arranging my office so i beat the crap out of my legs lol.

here they are together, standing comfortably. im using the edge of our ugly tile as a straight edge for reference.

here’s the left one. i have no idea if this is normal. the doctor i saw yesterday said it was “less pronounced” on this side. i agree.

i look like im uploading instructions on how to hokey-pokey. anyway: right leg in. notice how it is, indeed, fucked up when lined up against the edge.

and here’s the knee straight. i really thought this was normal and i just had to deal with it for the rest of my life lol. i mean i still might uhhh let’s find out.

I AM LOOKING FOR INFORMATION FOR ADULTS:

pretty much everything online is for kids with assurances that they’ll “grow out of it” and absolutely no info otherwise for the rest of us. now for my QUESTIONS:

-which surgery would be done to correct this?

-i am an american, any idea what surgery cost might look like? (lol ignoring insurance, i want to see if im even close to the ballpark of it being feasible)

-how long is the surgery recovery time?

-can physical therapy correct this? if so, how long would it take?

-can you direct me to more information on living with out-toeing/duck footing/external tibial rotation? how can i manage symptoms?

-does anyone want to study me, because apparently im a rare specimen. im minting myself as an nft or whatever. fuck

ok thank you. please share if you want to but remember to tag it “long post” for people who dont want to be attacked by this big wall of legs

[milkybonezz]

Modern!Bowers Gang hdc

oooo yes i like this already

this is just gonna be a big pile of hcs loosely separated by character!

☀ Henry eats total garbage and drinks nothing but redbull and poorly made protein shakes

☀no one is fully sure how he survives without a single DROP of water passing his lips of his own free will

☀ one of those kids who talks about the gym and sports and nothing else VERY loudly in the middle of class

☀asks for wrist checks for anyone slightly alternative looking because of course he does

☀gets no sleep at all, passes out frequently throughout the day

☀still has absolutely no dress sense, my man rocks up to school in shorts when it's snowing

☀fuckboy Bowers

☀has snapchat but his story is always just random blurry photos of dumb shit

☀Patrick is that kid.... you know the one

☀big fan of browsing gore subreddits and straight up porn in public

☀hisses at people because it makes them squirm

☀literally textbook male manipulator

☀wears those really weird t-shirts with wildly specific slogans on them and no one can tell if its post-modernism or if he's just like that

☀his favorite activity is calling people slurs on overwatch and then gaslighting them into believing he didn't for no reason other than to create chaos

☀somehow he's still pulling though, people seem to love a guy who knows how much money all their organs will make him on the dark web

☀runs a discord server but never actually messages on it, he's more of a legend to them

☀smells of stale weed and b.o and a fuckton of body spray to mask it

☀Vic is absolutely one of those stan accounts that's mean for no reason

☀Derry's most prolific cyberbully sits alone in his room and cries to Miski almost every day

☀he's the best dressed, always. not like it's hard to be though considering who he's friends with

☀modern Vic doesn't have his hair bleached so atrociously but he goes through phases of having it dyed, shaving it off, having it natural and then dying it again. It's a viscous cycle

☀had a VSCO phase in 2019 but as far as anyone knows no he didn't what are you talking about

☀he's rich rich so I think he's one of those mfs with a shoe collection. Like a bunch of jordans and shit

☀smells super good, he knows he does too

☀Reggie stays p much the same in my eyes, especially music wise he just has more options

☀the average limp bizkit enjoyer

☀seems like the type to have a truck rather than the trans am, idk he just looks like a truck guy to me

☀dresses EXACTLY like Jake does, like exactly

☀tie-dye shirts and flip flops and stuff, no fashion sense

☀goes fishing all the time, one of those guys who has photos of him holding a fish on his dating profiles

☀equipped for any and all situations, bottles of water, lighters, deodorant (Patrick is allowed one of the latter at a time. never together), snacks, sunscreen, tampons and pads (he’s a thoughtful guy) and like screwdrivers and a wrench and stuff

☀well hydrated, always. encourages the others to be the same which absolutely doesn’t work

☀isn't really on any form of social media, has a private Instagram that only his mum and the gang follow, an old fashioned man

☀laughs at anything shown to him by the guys

[actuallylorelaigilmore]

my third grade teacher was probably the most amazing teacher i ever had. she looked at the little autistic weirdo in her class who zoned out a lot, distracted other students by chatting, and couldn’t be normal if my life depended on it...and she was the first person to tell me ‘normal is overrated.’ she told me that albert einstein was a genius who couldn’t tie his shoes using the bunny ears method--the same one i was unable to master. 

instead of scolding me for talking all the time, or being easily bored because i found the lessons too easy, she sat me in front of the class and had me read aloud to the other students while she did mysterious teacher things nearby. unlike the teacher i had the year before, she never fixated on my eating issues or lectured me about being ungrateful. she didn’t treat me like a charity case.

she worked behind the scenes to get me into an early computer camp, when nobody i knew could come close to affording a computer--and then when a kid in town was getting a new computer and looked to donate his old one, my elementary school recommended me as the recipient. i’m certain that mrs. furnia had something to do with that as well.

she talked about me as though i were special in some magical way that really made me believe it, saying ‘you have to go to college’ with such emphasis that it felt inevitable, my destiny set at age nine. knowing how precocious i was, a tiny mimic and a sponge, i can imagine what she saw in me. but she was still the first to say it, outside of my own family: that underneath the five separate disorders i would one day have diagnoses for, lie a shimmering potential. 

the news today reminded me of her, polio in new york slipping through our vaccination efforts and what that could mean. mrs. furnia walked with a very pronounced limp, and she was probably another first for me--the first physically disabled person i knew as a child. she set the kind of example that i think helped us all become better tiny people, matter-of-fact about her limp but expecting our respect. 

i remember her telling us about a disease called polio, that had afflicted many, many children just like her before there was a vaccine. she told us how lucky she was to have survived with just a limp. we learned how lucky we were to have vaccinations that protected us, and how much the world could change, could progress, in such a short time. 

it baffles me that so many people deliberately avoid vaccines now. even understanding the religious objections, the historical bad behavior of doctors and pharmaceutical companies...it’s hard for me to wrap my head around compared to the risks. deep down i’ll always be that little kid hearing the story of how i was safe from polio, the scary disease that almost took the life of a child who would one day grow up to be a woman who taught me that i mattered. 

today the news is all about a british monarch i didn’t personally know, and i’m enjoying the serious takes and the funny ones--though i definitely am struggling to process the fact that charles will actually be king now. it does not compute. but other news sidetracked me into thinking about someone i did personally know, someone i still think about fondly sometimes, and i needed to share that.

school was not easy for me in many ways. i didn’t learn much outside of english and math, bullying turned me from a cheerful performer to someone trying not to be seen or heard, and undiagnosed adhd took me from a gifted student to a failure by the time i arrived at college. but even with all of that, even with my firm belief that some kids could thrive in nontraditional schooling where public school is hell for them...i had some great teachers. i’m grateful for that.

[gotnofucks]

Lover’s Quarrel

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Summary: You have the powers to resurrect if you’ve been murdered, and a jealous Steve Rogers indulges heavily in your abilities. He would not let you steal his best friend, that was for sure. So what, if your rivalry regularly caused fire and harm to public property? You just couldn’t let the other win. 

Words: 4.3k

Warnings: Smut, enemies to lovers, violence, killings and murders (but reader cannot die, it’s weird. She has some sorta powers that help her revive when she’s been murdered), language, 18+ ONLY

A/N: Is this crack fic? Idk. Maybe?

The sixth time Steve killed you, you decided he needed to be dealt with in a similar way. It doesn’t matter that he cannot come back from the dead like you. He just needed to go. You were tired of him offing you every time he felt threatened by your existence. But this was the last straw. He had pushed you off the Quinjet while flying home from a mission and you’d fallen into the lake and drowned. You would NOT recommend dying that way.

Bucky had dragged out your dead body and watched over you as the blessing of the necromancer worked its magic over you and brought you back to the world of the living. The first words out of your mouth as you spewed out water were, “I am going to kill your best friend and you can’t be mad at me for that.”

Bucky, far too happy to have you back – poor guy still mourned every time you died – ignored your comment and pulled you into a hug. He’d never quiet gotten used to seeing you die. You patted his back, muttering a few there-there’s until he was calm enough to press quivering kisses on your head and temple.

“You need to stop dying.” He said into your hair, holding you close.

“I would not be dying if your best friend didn’t murder me every time! He is a menace, Buck!” You cried in exasperation. The said best friend was watching you from a few yards away, and he rolled his eyes as your words reached him. He scoffed loud enough for you to hear and you sharply turned your head to glare at him.

“You!” You shouted, quickly standing up and marching over to him. “You rascal!” And then you pried out your wet shoe from your feet and threw it at his stunned face. Unfortunately, it didn’t hit his face but smacked against his chest, leaving the wet print of your soles against his far too tight t-shirt. He gaped at you open mouthed before baring his teeth in warning.

“Oh god, every time you come alive again, you’re even more awful than before!” Steve shouted, and then just because he is fucking drama queen, he threw out his hands. You sneered before turning to look at Bucky meaningfully, the most obvious ‘see what a dick he is’ look on your face.

Bucky shuffled uneasily, caught between your quarrel once again. He came behind you and gave you his jacket to wear to shield you from the cold. And just like that, your anger melted a little. Somehow, with his steel blue eyes, Bucky Barnes could sooth every wound you’d ever had. Even those given to you by Steve Rogers.

“I am so sorry. I should have seen what he was about to do. I wouldn’t have ever let you fall had I known.” He apologized and you swore your heart physically quivered. You pulled Bucky into a hug, hiding your face in his chest, savoring his arms coming around you to hold you tighter. You could have stayed in his embrace forever, but it was an annoyed groan that ripped you both apart.

“Is there any way you can stay dead a little longer?” Steve asked, breaking your moment. “I mean, I’ve tired a bullet and knife and water and poison. What can I do that you’d be gone for just a little longer?”

He was worked up, a red flush creeping on his face and neck. Pacing, he was muttering, and you wondered for the millionth time how Bucky could be friends with him. He was just so extra! You wanted to tell him to shove a stick up his ass, along with the one already there when he turned swiftly like the wind and threw a dagger at you. A metal hand caught it before it could hit you and you were pulled into the warmth of Bucky’s body quickly.

“Steve! Cut it out.” Bucky yelled, glaring at Steve. “You will not kill her again. I don’t care if she can come back alive again. You won’t hurt her.”

With that, he dropped the dagger on the ground and walked away with you. Unable to resist, you looked over you shoulder and flipped Steve off. Fucker could kill you a hundred times and yet he would not be able to do anything. As far as you were concerned, Bucky was as much your best friend as his. And if Steve Rogers couldn’t control his jealousy without trying to behead you every time he felt you were stealing Bucky from him, you would just have to make his death look like an accident.

“I don’t think I need to tell you that you can’t kill him either?” Bucky said teasingly, his eyes soft and fond. “I need you both to survive.”

You groaned, bumping your shoulder in his and snuggling into him as a cold breeze hit your wet clothes. He could read you like an open book.

“You are no fun Barnes.”

There was rubble and fires and shrieks. Natasha was yelling in Russian as she ran about with a fire extinguisher and Clint crawled out of his vents to help Bruce out who was turning a dangerous shade of green. Tony was sitting in the ruins of his kitchen, his mouth half open as he spied on the ensuing battle in the middle of it.

Sam was using his shield to push Steve away who was shouting curses that had probably not been invented yet. Bucky was holding you back by your middle, yelling in your ear to calm the fuck down but all you could think of to do was smacking Steve’s face with that chair that was currently on fire. You suppose once everyone was calm, you’d feel guilty about your part in destroying the Avengers kitchen but right now that wasn’t important.

What was important was that Steve had tried to kill you. Again. He had actually thrown a fucking grenade at you. You barely had the time to kick it away where it exploded in the kitchen and then Steve was on you, calling you a bitch in all the 9 languages he knew.

“Calm the hell down, Steve!” Sam yelled, struggling to keep Steve at bay from you. You were glad to see that Steve’s nose was busted. That will teach the bastard to ‘look down his nose’ on you now.

“She pierced my ears! The fucking bitch pierced my goddamn ears!” Steve yelled. Even you had to admit, the golden hoops looked amazing dangling from his ears. Just perfect.

“You are lucky I didn’t stick a knitting needle in your eye Rogers!” You sassily replied, “The only reason you’re still in one piece is because I promised my best friend that I wouldn’t hurt you.”

The muscles in Steve’s arms tensed and Sam groaned, barely keeping his own footing. A dark shadow seemed to have crawled over Steve’s face, turning the blues of his eyes an angry shade and had you been a weaker person, you would have trembled. This was the face of someone who had stood against armies alone and came out victorious. But for all you cared, he could kiss your ass.

“He is MY best friend. Mine. Not yours, not anyone else’s. Bucky Barnes is mine and I will kill you a thousand times until it sinks in your thick skull!” Steve growled. You scowled, a scathy remark bubbling on the tip of your tongue when you suddenly stopped. Why say when you can show? So, looking Steve directly in the eyes, you went limp in Bucky’s arms, turned around and cupped his face. And then you kissed his cheek.

Steve let out a strangled cry behind you, but you focused on Bucky who was blinking in disbelief at your audacity. And so, just for the heck of it, you kissed his other cheek. And then his forehead.

“Bucky Barnes, you are my best friend and always will be!” You said, hugging the life out of him. You heard Steve break away from Sam, heard Bucky yell out a curse and holding you protectively as his jealous pal came rushing to claim him. And all through that and the chaos that ensued later, you just smiled broadly.

Tony was giving a lecture, and he sucked. He gesticulated too much for your liking, and you really didn’t like how he kept emphasizing things by looking pointedly at you. It wasn’t even that much of a big deal, and even if it was, it was not your fault. Like every other time, the only person who could be held responsible was the blond super soldier sitting beside you, wearing the same shade of annoyance on his face as yours.

“I repeat” said Tony, his hair askew, “we do not use Friday to settle idiotic, absolutely ridiculous personal vendettas!”

“You have Friday tell you how pretty you look every day!” You countered and Tony slammed his hand on the table.

“Because I am!” He huffed. “You, on the other hand, stopped a mission in the middle to ask Friday who had a higher score! I mean, what the actual fuck? And what score?”

Steve had the decency to look at least a little sheepish. You however didn’t put up with any of that nonsense. It was his idea anyway, and you wouldn’t take the fall for him. Not when Tony looked murderous like this.

“Rogers bet me he’d take down more enemies than me. We only asked Friday to keep a count. I had literally nothing to do with it.”

Tony turned the ire of his glare at Steve who was too busy giving you a dirty look. He was just pissed you won, and that Bucky had spent the entire ride back tending to your wounds rather than Steve’s. It wasn’t your fault his jealous ass always threw a fit whenever he saw you and Bucky together.

“You said the team could use Friday as we saw fit.” Steve said, though he did look a little guilty. It wasn’t like him to lose command and control. Even when he’d been Captain America, he had never let anything rattle him. Not until you had come prancing in his life and stealing his best friend.

“I said the team could use Friday, not stop everything in the middle of a high risk mission to see who has a bigger dick.” Tony said, and then he just collapsed in his chair. Poor guy had been working too hard to carry the team forward, and in that moment, even you felt guilty. Your rivalry with Steve shouldn’t have to affect everyone else, not when they had been so welcoming and loving to you ever since you joined.

You walked over to Tony and dropped a kiss on his head, caressing his hair. “I am sorry Tones. You won’t have more trouble from me.”

Tony looked at you as if seeing an angel. He looked at you as if you were the solution to all his troubles. Despite every furniture of his you’d broken and set fire to, he was so grateful to have one sane voice between them. Cupping your hands, he looked imploringly at you and asked, “Really? You’re gonna stop fighting with Steve?”

At that, you solemnly nodded and patted his hand gently. Poor him and the poor team going through hell because you and Steve couldn’t settle your differences. It was obvious what had to be done.

“Of course I will” You said magnanimously, because of course you were the better of the two. “Steve just needs to find another best friend and there won’t be any reason to fight anymore.”

If any of them had been drinking water, they would have spit it out. Since they didn’t, they just kind of choked on their saliva and sputtered at you in absolute disbelief. Tony actually looked betrayed and Steve seemed to have licked a lemon, if the look on his face was anything to go by.

“She” He said, voice thick with contempt, “needs to go away. We can launch her in outer space or somewhere from where she can never return. You know why? Because Bucky is my best friend. Since we were yay high!” And he raised his arms a foot off the ground to show just how high.

And just like that, the moment was gone. Rogers opened his mouth and any goodwill you had had went poof. So, you did the only reasonable thing any sane person would do right now and that was to flip him off and call him a pig. You knew he was inching to strangle you; you could see his fingers twitch. A part of you was anticipating it, for Bucky would never forgive him for killing you again. Just as he would have lunged at you, push Tony out of the way and did you away for good, Bucky burst into the room with the expression of a cantankerous 100 year old grandpa who had had enough with the world.

“For fucks sake! Just shut up you both!” He yelled and paced the room. His eyes were bloodshot and hair disheveled, a clear sign that your rivalry was taking a heavy toll on him. Steve opened his mouth to say something when Bucky raised a finger to shush him. “No no no! You listen to me you oblivious, utter moronic fucklets!”

Your mouth dropped open. Bucky never cursed at you. He had never called you a fucklet before.

“You two need to stop. You hear me? You need to STOP!” He raked a hand through his hair before kicking the ground in frustration. “I can’t eat. I can’t sleep! I can’t fucking breathe without you both arguing over who is a better friend to me. So, here’s an idea. Instead of fucking me over in the middle of your sexual tension, why don’t you find a room and fuck each other? Because I tell you now, I cannot fucking take it!”

Silence sat pregnant in the room. You blinked at Bucky. Steve blinked at Bucky. Tony blinked at Bucky. And Bucky didn’t blink at all.

“That – uh – what?” You said, eloquent as ever. “That is so stupid.” And you laughed awkwardly.

Steve glanced at you and then stammered, “What? That – I haven’t – that has nothing to do with it. She and I – what?”

You both found each other’s eye, quickly looked away and just became silent. The tension in the air was suffocating you, and a terrible heat was settling in your stomach. Without another word, you walked out of the room, muttering about how ridiculous the whole idea was. The three men watched your exit, and a moment later, Steve left too, still very much in disbelief.

Tony and Bucky sighed, sitting across from each other and just taking in the fact that the elephant in the room had finally been address. A moment later, Tony began drumming on the desk, looking up at the ceiling.

“I couldn’t have put it any better myself.”

You felt antsy, as if staying one more moment in your room would drive you mad. You kept jerking your legs and arms, a weird restlessness in every action of yours. What the hell was Bucky saying? The sheer nerve to imply that you…you and Steve had some sort of feelings for each other. You hadn’t heard that kinda crap since you nursed your nephew who’d had diarrhea.

The only reason you and Steve fought was because you wanted Bucky. He was supposed to be your best friend, and clearly it was his inability to decide who he preferred more that had led you here. And to pretend, on top of that, that it was you who was at fault was just ridiculous. As if you’d touch Steve Rogers with a ten foot pole.

But…would you? You suppose he couldn’t be that bad to touch. He did have gorgeous eyes that got all dark and dilated when he fought with you. And his breath hitched when you got him mad and he bit his lip to stop from cursing you and he flushed a very becoming shade of red that started from his cheeks and disappeared down the neckline on his tight shirts that –

Holy fuck!

The realization rocked your world. What the hell? When you thought about it again, it seemed as if you’d just described Steve being aroused. Did you really fight him and got him mad to stimulate yourself? Oh god. Bucky was right. You wanted to fuck Steve.

This wouldn’t do. This wouldn’t do at all. You quickly changed into your work out gear and rushed to the gym, intent on sweating out whatever feelings you might have for Steve. After all, nothing says fuck you like imagining someone’s face on a punching bag and just going to town on it. Thankfully, when you arrived the gym was empty.

You’d been working on your stretches for only a few minutes when your worst nightmare entered the gym. He probably had the same idea as you and froze the moment your eyes met. His blue eyes narrowed at you and you stood up straight. You hated Bucky for putting the thought in your head. Now all you could think of was tackling Steve to the ground and fucking him senseless. You still wanted to beat him, but in a very different way.

As Steve entered, his eyes fixed to your form, you decided it was time to leave. After that fiasco in front of Tony, you didn’t think yourself capable of talking to Steve. Staying alone with him was something you didn’t trust yourself with. So you picked up your bag and started for the door when his voice stopped you.

“Running away? Am I to believe that there is something that finally scares you?”

Anger, red hot anger simmered under your veins when you turned to face him again. He had a mocking smirk on his face that made you grit your teeth. His eyes, dark and challenging beckoned you to him, but they didn’t hold resentment there either. Something between you had changed today. The very air around you was different, thick with tension and apprehension that had your nerves tingling.

“Scared?” You scoffed, dropping your bag on the matted floor and walking until you stood right before him. He towered over you in height, but he’d never been able to actually look down at you. “Me, scared of you? You wish Rogers.”

One corner of his lips lifted up, and he put his hands on you. One hand hooked around your waist and pulled you closer, the other trailing a finger down the side of your face to your neck, following the path down your arm until his fingers intertwined with yours.

“Oh, I so do wish” He whispered and his lips met yours. You rose up on your toes, mashing your body against his and mapping the planes of his body with your palms. The smell of his sweat and soap surrounded you, your arms coming to hold him around the shoulders as he hitched you up so you could wrap your legs around him.

Like everything in your relationship, the kiss was explosive. You didn’t melt against each other like people do in books; you collided like two warring armies intent on conquering the other. You collided like night and day, basking your surroundings in the dawn and dusk of your lust. Steve took your bottom lip between his teeth and bit down, smiling as you shamelessly moaned.

“What do you say?” He asked, pushing you against the wall, his hardness digging between the heated center of your legs.

You pulled him closer, letting your lips trail over his jaw and neck before you branded him with a quick bite. “You’ve always been so aggressive Steve, let’s see you let loose some other way. I sure do hope you fuck better than you fight though, or I’ll just be disappointed.”

Steve growled, kissing you again as he ground his cock against you, trapping you between the wall and his hard body that prevented any escape. Your hands slipped under his t-shirt, meeting the firm muscles on his abdomen that rippled under you. He pulled back just enough to allow you to remove your clothes, his own being flung sideways without any care.

Even before, you’d never thought of Steve as anything but beautiful, but now, seeing him in all his glory, you could only look him up and down in appreciation. He was trembling slightly, as if holding himself back with effort, his eyes not leaving you for a second. You both looked at each other, naked and unashamed before frantically coming together. His hands were everywhere, squeezing your ass and thighs as his lips pulled at your breast.

Your fingers rolled his nipples softly until he moaned, and then you pinched them. He jerked under your touch, kicking the back of your knees so you collapsed down, and he covered your body with his. Anger, arousal, lust and longing, all emotions built together in a storm of incoherent desire that had you both rolling over each other, fighting for dominance and power. Steve pinned you down with effort, holding your wrists in one hand over your head as he gave a smug smile to you.

“Will you finally surrender today?” He asked, positioning his cock at your entrance that was drenched. You would have loved to taste him, to have him taste you, but as of now, all you wanted was for him to slide inside you. You hungered for him, burnt for his touch. For years you’d been left wanting, and now with the prize so near, you weren’t about to wait any longer.

“The only surrender today will be yours.” You whispered sweetly before slamming your head against his. Steve jerked hard in surprise, allowing you the opportunity to free your hands and roll over him. You sat on his pelvis proudly, his throbbing member right underneath you and as he blinked at you, stunned, you rose up over his tip and slowly sunk down.

Steve groaned as your wet channel fell like velvet heat along his shaft. You had never been so full before. He stretched your limits, as he had always done, and you decided you very much preferred rendering him speechless like this under you than your usual punches and throws. His hands dug into your waist, helping you bounce on his cock and you threw your head back at the feeling.

It was a beautiful ache, one that took your breath away. As you rolled your hips and clenched down there, Steve’s voice rose in appreciation and you grinned. You finally had the golden boy at your mercy. You fucked him, changing your pace to punish him, never letting him up. For every time he killed you, you bit on his lips and neck, marking him. It was punishment and cherishing, a culmination of feelings you didn’t understand.

“Touch me.” You brokenly said, and his fingers found your nub. The slapping of skin, the sounds of debauchery and the smell of sin filled the air. You leaned over him to meet his lips, the heat in your gut bubbling until you snapped and came atop him, falling blissfully. It was one moment of weakness and the world titled, Steve having finally pushing you on your back.

“You’ve always been strong, because I’d hate to break you when the fun has only just begun.” He said and thrust into you hard and fast. He was an animal in heat, a man possessed, and you didn’t mind one bit. You met his every thrust with a raise of your hips, you clawed at his back until he bled, your lips tasting of the salt of sweat and tears and desire. He brought you impossibly closer, looking right into your eyes as he took you.

For the life of you, you couldn’t look away. You couldn’t get enough of his grunts and moans, of the breathy whispers of your name that slipped between curses, of the way his lashes would flutter over the dark blues that kept your eyes captive. He had you completely in that moment, mind and body; and for some reason, his gaze felt infinitely more intimate than his cock that was currently spearing you open. You keened in pleasure, whimpering as he touched your overly sensitive clit and had you coming again.

A minute later, he twitched inside you, his warmth flooding your core and you sighed. You laid entangled and sweaty, both of you spent and tired and yet completely overtaken by the urge to be closer still. To think this is what you’d both missed for all these years.

“So, what do you say, still feeling aggressive?” Steve asked and you looked at him with a grin that you couldn’t have suppressed had you wanted to. Oh yes, some battles were never meant to end, but they sure could be altered to meet new demands.

“With you? Always.” You replied, kissing him deep until he couldn’t think of anything but you. “Just remember one thing.”

“Oh yeah, what?”

“I am still a better best friend to Bucky. I did fuck you to keep him happy after all.”

Steve frowned darkly and before you could blink, he was over you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“I think this time I’d fuck some manners into you.”

“I think this time you should actually put your back into it. I did all the work before.” You taunted and he dived at you.

Meanwhile, in Tony Stark’s office

“Friday, what’s the score?” He asked smugly, offering Bucky the packet of blueberries. Bucky was sitting with his feet on the desk, a small smile on his face.

“I am afraid I am not at a liberty to say Boss.” Friday replied. If the AI could blush, she would.

“Seems like they are at an impasse.” Tony suggested, and Bucky shrugged, licking his lips.

“Well, some things never change.”

[woahsehun]

♡ boyfriend jaemin ♡

what I think jaemin might be like as a boyfriend

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disclaimer: obviously I don’t know jaemin lmao this is just for fun and if you disagree feel free to politely disagree elsewhere ♡ but I mean comment if you want idc just pls don’t be mean to me I’ll cry

I also tried to keep it gender neutral but I am new to writing these types of scenarios and stuff so if you notice anything that I should change feel free to let me know :)

now back to our regularly scheduled programming

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• house husband boyfriend #1

• if he wakes up before you… would probably drink a cup of coffee before you get up, but would then make himself another with yours so you could drink them together (or if you drink tea same situation different beverage)

• is a big fan of waiting to do things in order to do them together

• another example would be: I think even if he was super hungry he would often hold off on eating dinner until you got home/to wherever he is so he can eat with you, because he doesn’t like the thought of you having to eat alone and always prefers your company anyways :’)

• y’all know that clip of him hugging jaehyun? yeah. would do that a lot, but not just a back hug, like the full on pajamas-morning breath-messy hair-half open eyes vibe. has his face against your shoulder so he can take a deep breath in to let the smell of your hair and clothes comfort him

• taking a quick break because I’m making myself go insane I think

• anyways

• takes pictures of you whether you’re aware or not (but not in like, a creepy way idk). will also force you to let him take pictures of you like that one video of him dragging haechan by the jacket so he could take pictures of him yeah that. hey, it’s not his fault you’re breathtaking

• of course he likes taking the aesthetic candid pictures of you, but his guilty pleasure? taking absolutely wack pictures of you eating and sleeping. hilarious. cute. lockscreen material in his eyes

• expect your cheeks to be squeezed. ya got cheeks? congrats! you get a squeeze. or maybe even a squish who knows. you do something remotely cute jaemin is all over it “ooohhhhwowowo my baby so cute” while you’re just cheeks compressed like (〃￣ω￣〃)

• may tease and nag but it’s out of love ahdhba

• would be a really good person to talk to about your mistakes/worrys or make mistakes around, because I think unless it’s something serious he would be great at calming you down and assuring you that everything is okay. seems like a big fan of “keep moving forward” and thinks sweating the small stuff is a waste of time almost

• maybe I think that because of his not-so-competitive nature most of the time but either way

• I feel like (if you had a day type job or were in college) he would enjoy seeing you off to work or classes if he has time. has your bag and/or drink ready and held out for you as you’re on your way out the door, but he wouldn’t let go of them without a goodbye kiss of course

• yeah I’m going insane again brb

• really appreciates anything you do for him whether it’s getting him coffee unexpectedly, visiting him at work (and if he’s having a hard time it just lifts him right up), rubbing his shoulders after a long practice, or even just the way you look at him is enough to satisfy his happiness quota for life

• because of this, like I mentioned before, he would try and do small things for you too. would wash your dishes or put away leftovers if you forget, would put your shoes by the door if you happen to kick them off elsewhere, sends you goodnight and good morning texts if you’re not together

• probably wouldn’t have much time to visit you at work or school, but would always try and call or text you during your break

• obviously just really affectionate and caring I mean we know this about him but I’m reminding us

• might pout it you reject his affection, but also kinda understands if you need space (even if he wants to hug you tighter than some skinny jeans)

• other than that I don’t feel like he pouts much I mean he trusts you and respects your thoughts and opinions idk what else to say about it

• probably admires you for your similarities and differences.

• I don’t even think it would depend on if you’re a hard worker or successful compared to others he just thinks you’re inspiring to him in your own right. I know people say he’s a member that definitely admires strong women, ya know based on his music tastes, and I for sure agree, but I also think no matter your gender identity he would just be in awe at your inner strength and it would help drive him in other things he does :)

• hello I’m back bc I had more thoughts so am making some edits lmaooo

• the type to make you lunch and leave little notes in it like “I love youuu”, “you mean the world to me”, “have a great day!”, “ooooh sexy”

• takes care of you really well even when you don’t ask for it like makes sure you eat enough and drink enough water, get enough sleep, take care of your mental health etc.

• which I also feel like means he can be stern sometimes, but it’s just because he really cares and doesn’t know what he would do if something happened to you

• that’s where the nagging comes in a bit like if you got sick “”tch tch tch* see this is why I told you you have to drink more water” as he absolutely babies the hell out of you

• if you’re laying on the couch or smth he’d probably just lay his whole body over you limp like a blanket until you tap out from being SQUISHED

• alright I think I’m really done for now so if I think of anything else maybe I’ll just make a part two

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♡ I feel like this was kinda short but that’s all I have for now so thanks to anyone who read this I guess, and I hope everyone has a great day/night! ♡

(✿◕ ‿◕ฺ)ノ``` bye bye ```

[jean-kayak]

@obsessedknb asked: OMG! The scneario about dom!Aomine was so hot 🥵 Can I have a scneario where Aomine has a Friends with Benefits thing, but get jelouse because she want to Break their arrangement to date a guy? If its possible please do nswf. I live for this!

A/N: lol I'm really glad you liked it, and I hope you like this one too!

Warnings: unprotected sex, little bit of possessive Aomine, oral (f.receiving), fingering (f.receiving), feelings

All characters are 18+!!

When you had met Aomine at first, you never thought in a couple of months you would be sleeping with him. The arrangement was nice, agreeable for the both of you. Both of you needed a way to relieve some tension, and luckily for both of you, sex was the best way to do that.

No feelings attached. It was simple.

Until it wasn't.

Aomine was laying on his back, still coming down from his high when your phone pinged. He watched as you were quick to roll over, a soft smile appearing on your face as you looked at the screen. "Something exciting?" he asks, dread starting to rise in his chest.

You don't look at him as your fingers start typing on the screen. "Oh, it's nothing. Just this guy I've been talking to."

He feels his heart skip a beat and not in a good way, his heart feeling it's being crushed as he watches you laugh at the next text that comes through.

And he internally bristles at his reaction. How long has felt this way? When did he start wanting more than just sex from you? Should he say something? Well, obviously not because that means that you'll have to break it off, which you might end up doing anyway if everything goes well with this guy.

This whole thing is bound to start an argument, which does happen a couple of weeks later. Aomine was practicing late in the gym, mostly trying to clear his head, but it proves futile because the only thing he can think about is you.

He goes to shoot the ball, stopping mid-form as the realization dawns on him, and that's when he hears footsteps coming from behind him. He raises his eyebrows when he turns around to see you walking up to him.

"Hey," you start softly once you get up to him. He doesn't respond as he looks down at his shoes. "I'm actually glad I found you. I wanted to talk to you."

"You're picking him over me?" he says, his gaze focused on the ground.

He can hear you hesitate but he doesn't look up, and then he hears you scoff. "Aomine, this was just sex, I thought that's what you said."

"So, you're just gonna leave me high and dry then?" He's looking at you now, hurt and anger in his eyes.

"What are you getting so upset about?" you question, your voice raising slightly at his reaction. "You were the one who said no feelings, Aomine. Why are you getting mad at me?"

He looks away for a quick second. Shit, he had said that. Now that he thinks about it, he was the one mostly reinforcing it in the first place. But that was because he was afraid of where this relationship would lead to.

"You're--"

"I'm what?! Yours? What kind of shit is that, Aomine?"

He sighs heavily. This isn't the place for this, so he grabs your wrist before yanking you towards the locker rooms, ignoring your protests as he locks the door behind him. "Yeah, you're mine. What about it?" he hisses, backing you up against the door, caging you between his arms.

You swallow heavily as you hold his gaze, his face leaning closer to yours. "You wanna know how I know you're mine, hm? Because I know you're soaked right now. Tell me I'm wrong."

"You're wrong." Your voice is smaller than you wanted it to be, and he smirks as he raises an eyebrow.

"I am?" he starts, one of his hands trailing up your thigh and under your skirt, and you've already proven his point when you don't stop him. You bite your lip to stop the gasp the tries to come out when he runs his finger firmly over your clothed slit. "I don't know. A part of you is lying."

He sinks to his knees. "Let's figure out which part, shall we?" His lips ghost over the inside of your thighs tracing the same path as his fingers, keeping his eyes on yours until they disappear under your skirt.

His nose runs over your panties, making you sigh softly as your hand falls onto his head, and you moan when licks and sucks at the fabric, before moving it aside before he licks through your folds, making your legs go weak.

He pushes your legs apart as he dives in, his tongue running over your clit as his fingers work their way inside of you. He grunts softly when you pull at his hair, and he sucks your clit into his mouth as he curls his fingers over that spot inside of you, using his other hand to stop you from falling.

"Aomine," you start, having a hard time keeping yourself standing as you get closer, and the next thing you feel is his mouth and fingers leaving you. "W-What?" you breathe as he rises to his feet.

"If you're gonna cum, it's gonna be on my dick," he tells you as he shoves his clothes down his thighs, catching his dick in his hand and using your wetness to lube himself up.

He kicks at your feet, spreading your legs wider before sliding in, watching your eyes roll back with a cocky smirk. He barely wastes time after he bottoms out to move, slamming back into you instantly, making you cry out. "Be loud, baby, I wanna hear who's making you feel this good," he breathes against your lips, hiking your legs up around his waist, essentially letting him go deeper inside you.

Your body goes limp against the door, not even bothering with trying to muffle the sounds you're making, your hands digging into his shoulders when he rams that spongy spot inside of you. He groans when he feels your walls pulse around him, smashing his lips onto yours in a sloppy kiss.

"Daiki--fuck, oh shit," you moan, your toes curling in your shoes as that knot in your stomach gets tighter.

"Scream my name when you cum, baby, do it," he demands, his thrusts aimed right at your g-spot, and your back arches, the scream of his name echoing off the walls as you cum, and the feeling of your walls clamping around him triggers his.

He swears as he rides out your highs before slowing down, your breaths bouncing off the walls as he rests his head against yours. "If you felt that way, Aomine, you should've said something," you say with a breathless laugh.

He shrugs as he tries to figure out how to respond. "I just--wait," he starts, lifting his head back to look back at you. "You feel the same way?"

You chuckle softly as you tilt your head. "Yeah, I do. I was only talking to that guy to try and get over you," you admit honestly, and that's the best thing he's heard in a while. He tries to hide his excitement, kissing you again, this time softer, more firm.

"So, you're not leaving me?" he asks cautiously, and you shake your head.

"I'm all yours, Aomine."