#Y’all it has been a crazy past few weeks

[pccyouthleader]

Hedgehog Hodgepodge: A Story of Espionage, Confusion, and an Evil Plan Gone Haywire

~Intermission~

Little by little, Aurora packed her things and slowly moved them to the apartment next door to Shadow’s. Sonic had begrudgingly agreed to the arrangement as long as the two promised to behave and stay in their separate “corners.” 

Aurora wanted to leave her room at home in much the same condition, as it was comforting to know that she could come and stay whenever she wanted. She decided to take her solar dancing figurines, bobble head collection, taco-themed joke book, and Kit-Cat clock, but decided to leave her posters. She could swoon over “Bran Baker and the Beefcakes” and “The Phantom of the Rock Opera” whenever she came to visit.

Much to Shadow’s frustration, the evidence trail from the trophy and orb had grown cold. Knuckles and Rouge couldn’t tell him anything more about the orb. And Tails was so preoccupied with prepping his old plane for the antique iron show that he had all but forgotten about the trophy. 

Everyone’s lives had pretty much returned to normal since the disappearance of the two items. However, some of Shadow’s contacts had started receiving strange communication signals. The contacts could neither pinpoint the location of the transmissions nor decipher them. 

Amy was overjoyed at the development of a small baby bump on her abdomen. After finding some cute maternity wear, she enjoyed standing in front of her full-length mirror admiring her new look. She still couldn’t believe she was experiencing the miracle of new life all over again!

The nursery - one side of Amy’s in-home office - was coming along nicely. Aurora had worked closely with her mother to pick the perfect light yellow paint and soft materials to suit a brand new baby hedgehog. Amy’s morning sickness was finally tapering off, and so the mother-daughter duo could often be found going through Amy’s design portfolios looking for ideas.

It wasn’t long before the whole village was abuzz with the news that Sonic and Amy were having a “surprise” bundle of joy. Soon their friends were happily showering them with all sorts of baby-related items.

“I am bushed!” Amy said as she walked in the door one day with a double armload of gift bags.

“Geez, Ames!” Sonic exclaimed, jumping off the sofa. He had been enjoying an afternoon siesta. “Let me get that stuff!” He took the armload of presents and ran them up the stairs. Amy had taken his place on the sofa when he came back down.

“There’re about five more loads where that came from,” she said when Sonic returned.

“From what?!” he asked. Had Amy hijacked a delivery truck?

“My coworkers gave me a surprise baby shower at work today. I forgot just how much stuff you need to take care of a baby.” She propped her aching feet on the coffee table. 

“Be right back,” came Sonic’s reply as he zipped out the door. He returned a few minutes later with a staggering load and a shocked expression on his face. “What are we gonna do with all this stuff?!” he asked when he came back downstairs.

“Worry about it later!” Amy said. She didn’t have the energy to deal with it right now. But she did stand up and move over to place a kiss on Sonic’s cheek. “Thank you for getting everything.”

“No problem, Babe,” he replied, pulling her into a much-needed embrace. Amy relaxed, almost melting into her happy place.

When he released her, Amy grimaced as she remembered an earlier conversation. “If one more person finds out about the baby and asks, ‘You know what causes that, right?’ I just might pound them in the ground with my hammer.”

A devilish grin played across Sonic’s lips. He just had to do it. Placing a hand gently on her ever-growing tummy, he gave her a sly look and said, “Hey Ames, you know what causes this, right?”

But instead of bashing him to bits, Amy got a romantic look in her eyes. She moved a little closer, put her arms around his neck, and raised a brow. “Hmm… actually I do know what causes this. Would you like me to demonstrate?”

“EWWW! MOM! GROSS!!” came a voice from the top of the stairs.

“Crap!” Sonic whispered. “I forgot Tiny was upstairs!” He and Amy dissolved into hushed laughter.

Meanwhile, Aurora had run back into her bedroom with her hands over her ears. Shadow, unbeknownst to the couple downstairs, was sitting in her windowsill, convinced he had just thrown up in his mouth.

[alxclaremont]

life update no one asked for: worked 300 hours in a month, started my junior year of college, started therapy, realized i hate my major, and i am subsequently changing my major

[daryltwdixon]

Live-In Bodyguard

A requested one shot:

hi!! i was wondering if you could write a little story where y/n and daryl were paired to live together when they first arrived at Alexandria and now have been living together for a while. They’re not necessarily friends, and actually don't really like each other and one day daryl is out hunting when y/n spills something on her clothes, leaving her with nothing but one of daryls old t shirts. 🤭🤭🤭🤭 he comes home and catches her in the kitchen where she pulls the tshirt down to cover her underwear and keeps apologizing. Tyyyyy @dixon555

I did take a little bit of creative liberty on the situation in which he catches you in buttttt what can I say :)

Fluffy, protective Daryl

When Rick comes out to meet you and the rest of the group, explaining the rooming situation at the compound you've arrived to, you can tell he seems hesitant before breaking the news to you. 

“Y/N…” he says carefully, his hand rubbing at his growing beard, “you and…” he looks over to Daryl, his eyes searching his chosen brother’s face. 

“No way,” you say, suddenly understanding, “No way, Rick. I can’t live with this guy,” your thumb points over your shoulder.

“Like you’re such a ray of sunshine,” Daryl snaps back at you, “think I wanna share a place with you either?” 

You and Daryl were…I mean, obviously you had lived together the past however long it had been since the group had found you. It had actually been Daryl who found you in an abandoned house, covered in walker guts and dirt after hearing you screaming when there was a whole group coming into the cabin. But since then, you'd been living in close quarters with everyone. As much as you had appreciated him coming after you, the rest of the time you’ve known him he’s always been on you–how you can’t be trusted on your own, always needing protection, never allowing you out of his sight. You had started going crazy that this man would barely speak to you, but insisted on always having eyes on you at all times. 

Rick sighs, looking at the ground, his forefinger and thumb at the bridge of his nose, “Look, y’all need to figure something out, this is just what I was told. The house has two rooms, you won’t be in each other’s way–”

“Great, great. Thanks a lot,” you groan, heading toward the row of houses, “my own live-in bodyguard,”

“Be nice,” you hear Rick saying under his breath to Daryl.

“Always am,” Daryl replies. 

This was going to suck.

—------------

You’re drinking coffee at the small kitchen table in your house at Alexandria, finally starting to feel settled in the place. Daryl was out in the beginning days of your time here, he finally understood that the walls were enough to keep you safely out of harm’s way. You had tried to sneak out a few times, only to find him waiting for you at the exit, ready to stop you. It’s like he could read your damn mind. So, you gave up trying to work around his helicopter protection. You decided to focus on your house, making it a home for you. If Daryl was going to be out hunting most days anyway, you figured you would make it how you wanted it. You found a way to decorate the place, even if it wasn’t the easiest task. The walls had been freshly painted a couple weeks ago when you saw they were a nasty mustard yellow when you had first walked in.

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

“Oh god,” you had moaned.

Daryl paused, suddenly rushing to you. He came up to your side quickly, scanning the room. You could tell he was on high alert.

“No, no, it’s nothing,” you assured him, “Just…the walls,” 

“The…walls?” he had grunted out

“They’re ugly,” you said to him, simply.

“And you were hoping for…?”

“Maybe a nice blue or something, anything but this awful mustard,” you said, and began walking around to discover the rest of the place. 

Two days later you had found a note stuck to a pail on the kitchen counter, with a large roller brush on top. When you approached it, a small, traitorous smile had crossed your lips.

“For making the walls less ugly” 

You hardly had to guess who the terrible handwriting was from. 

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

You took the whole day to paint, excited for a new project that felt like making the house a home. Setting your lukewarm coffee down on the wooden floor to dip the paintbrush in a fresh coat of paint, you begin your task. You’re lifting the paintbrush up to the wall, gliding it gently along the seams where the corners meet. When you step back to view your work, you trip over your half empty coffee mug you left on the ground, causing you to flail your arms out for support, the paint brush in your hand splattering all over your shirt.

“Ah, shit,” you thought out loud, touching the bits of paint that were wet on your shirt now. There were blue splatters all down the front of your shirt and your sleeves. You sighed, and looked around. You might as well finish before going up to change. 

When all four walls of the downstairs were done, you head up the stairs. 

Unfortunately, you hadn’t really had the chance to get out and scavenge for new clothes in Alexandria since you mostly stayed in the house, trying to acclimate the past couple of days. Daryl was out on a hunting trip today–surprise, surprise. He seemed so pent up since arriving. Every little thing pissed him off lately, his temper was so easily brought out of him. Not that he was very forthcoming on the reason he was so annoyed lately. But you would see him roll his eyes, scoff, and just overall pouting as soon as you arrived. You knew Daryl was most comfortable out in the woods–it was his happy place, oddly. As much as anyone else was terrified to be out in the woods alone, he cherished it. He barely talked to you in the past months you’ve known him but you were quietly getting to know him from afar. Or at least as far as he’d let you get from him. He was intriguing as much as he was annoying to you. 

So you’re up stairs, searching to see if any of your dresser drawers happen to have a fresh set of clothes, but it seems you’re out of luck. The drawers are barren, the dusty wooden bottoms seemed to be mocking you now. ‘Told you to get some clothes,’ they tell you as you open and clothes every single one to no avail. ‘Should've left the house for some when you had the chance–now look at you’. You shake your head– anthropomorphizing a dresser is weird. It’s a dresser. It doesn’t speak. But if this one could you know it would be chiding you for being such a recluse the past few days of arriving at the commune. A sudden thought occurs to you– you had seen Daryl walking in with a few things over his arm yesterday when he came in from being out in the woods again. He had grumbled something along the lines of getting called to the main house and being told off for looking like a forest creature with how ratty his clothes were looking. It had made you chuckle to see him embarrassed, holding a pile of crisp clothes that were such a stark contrast against him, but now you were suddenly grateful. Maybe you could take one of them and he wouldn’t even realize it was his, since he probably hadn’t worn any of them. Looking out into the hallway to make sure he hadn’t snuck in and was about to catch you, you quietly walk over to his room. You hold the doorknob in your palm for a long second, talking yourself into going in. It’ll be fine, it’s not weird–it's just Daryl. You close your eyes shut tight and open the door.

The room was pretty barren much like yours, you weren’t sure what you were expecting, really. As you look around you see signs of his presence though– his poncho hangs over the back of the chair at the desk, the keys to the motorcycle on the wooden chest at the bottom of his bed. 

You sneak over quietly to the chest of things, putting his keys to the side and opening it with delicacy. He could walk in here at any minute and find you snooping, and you’d be dead meat. But when you open the chest, none of the new clothes are there. It’s all his old stuff–the ratty sleeveless shirts, the angel wing vest he would wear, a big tee shirt with car or motorcycle oil stains… You stand and deliberate your best course of action. These options are still better than sitting in dry crusted paint all over you all day. They’re not necessarily dirty, since Carol had come over yesterday to take everyone’s things to be washed. Daryl had surprisingly neatly folded them up in the chest when he put them away–or maybe Carol had and he just left them like that. Gingerly, you pick up the large tee shirt with the faded oil stains, giving it a once over before deciding it was good enough. You take it and make your way to the shower, praying Daryl isn’t back til the evening when you could put it back before bed. 

You’re stepping out of the shower, wringing your hair out when you hear the door close out in the living room. Oh, shit. You were stupid enough to leave your paint splattered shirt in your bedroom along with your pants, only bringing in Daryl’s shirt and a pair of underwear to change into after your shower. You curse at yourself inwardly, figuring there was no way out but to face it. Hopefully Daryl would just stay downstairs while you made your way to your room to put your own clothes back on. You throw the tee shirt on, and it surprisingly makes its way past your butt, hiding everything just enough to be decent if he were to accidentally spot you running for it down the hallway. You collect yourself, wringing your hair out one more time before hanging your towel on the door and stepping out. Steam escapes the bathroom as the door swings open, and you’re looking around the door frame, making sure no one is there. You sigh in relief when you see no one on the landing–Daryl is still downstairs then. Or maybe he’s not even here and just had to grab something on his way out again. 

If only you were so lucky. 

You’re on the way to your room, padding over gently to your door, hand on the banister to keep yourself steady, when you catch in the corner of your eye coming up the stairs. You freeze on the top landing, directly in front of the staircase when he catches you trying to creep down the hall. 

His eyes linger on your face for a minute, and you watch his eyes suddenly scanning you from head to toe. You look down at yourself to assess how screwed your situation is– your wet hair is dripping on the shirt, making parts of it damp and see through. Of course where your hair meets your chest, the wetness is the worst, making the shirt cling to you like a second skin. Your eyes dart up to him as you take in your nearly drenched chest, your nipples hardening to the cold air now that they’re wet. His eyes are glued to you, still on your chest until they start to scan down to your bare legs, where the shirt just barely covers you decently. You squeeze your legs together, bringing the shirt past your underwear, a blush blazing across your face and neck. “Daryl, I'm sorry, I just--”

But suddenly he’s climbing up the stairs and grabbing you so quickly that the air escapes your lungs as he holds you against the wall, his lips crashing into yours.

[wemustgatekeepwooyoung]

House of Cards

synopsis: you and your sneaky link, Jung Wooyoung, who you met on a dating app four months ago, finally decide to make it official over a round of Crazy Eights*

pairing: (non idol)! Jung Wooyoung x fem!reader

genre: romance, fluff

word count: 2,3k

content/warnings: !!!mentions of your previous sexual activities, not you actually having sex!!! ,small tensile environment throughout your game session that lead to your confession, pet names (sweetheart, princess, baby,).

author’s note: now this, this is a sample of what I normally enjoy writing. It comes more naturally to me but who doesn’t enjoy a good smut too? I’ve got many things cooking but my exams are right on the corner so I’m kinda screwed in terms of free time, cause I got NONE. Sorry ‘Don’t be a stranger, stranger’ is taking so long, I’m still kinda skeptical about it. Anyway, I’ll try my best not to just be active but also productive . It’s not something I can guarantee though. Hope your excitement stays present till my next update? Bye bye <3

*Crazy Eights is a shedding-type card game for two to seven players and the best known American member of the Eights Group which also includes Pig and Spoons. The object of the game is to be the first player to discard all of their cards. The game is similar to Switch, Mau Mau or Whot!. -Wikipedia

“You’re good Jung Wooyoung but I’m not going to give it to you that easily”

“You always say that and then end up moaning my name dear” he teased

“Can you stick to the game?”

“Yes ma’am!” he said and drew a card from the card deck only for him to draw another and another and another… “Shit how many’s it been?“

“I’d say you’ve drawn about half deck. Why? Can’t you properly fit them in between your fingers?”

“Now who’s the one not sticking to the game?”

“Well I never implied anything, it’s you that’s all messed up and pervy” you said and poked him softly on his thigh

“Oh am I?”

“Of course you are. You can’t even hold all those cards, one keeps falling every now and then. Are you that ‘frustrated’? ” you mocked him once again.

It’s been your new favourite hobby these past four months of ‘seeing him’. You two met on Tinder once he first moved into your city. He didn’t know anyone and had no connections with people, so, that’s what led him to joining the world’s most famous dating app.

You two clicked right away. Sex was what ensured your bonding at first, a few weeks passed and you kept meeting each other. He’s probably fucked you on every surface possible and you’re living your moment. Oh and sex calls… Y’all are wild.

You’ve finally found a man that can match your sexual desires. Not too vanilla but not too harsh. Just the perfect mixture of intimacy, freedom and that specific taste of filth you go crazy for.

You’ve gotten pretty close too. You even have sleepovers after wilding out on each other, it’s not just about sex like you both had noted on your profiles when you first talked. At least not anymore.

It almost feels like…

“Ha! Finally! Lets see how you can beat that-“ he said, still struggling to hold all these cards.

“Why don’t you leave some aside? It’s okay to cheat when it’s us two right?” you proposed only to be greeted with his seriousness, a rare occurrence.

“No. No cheating, ever. I’ll manage somehow” he said and then fell yet another card. He rolled his eyes and grabbed that card with his mouth, keeping it still among his beautiful plump lips.

What a sight. You keep staring like the obsessed one you are while he’s in such a difficult position! What a menace! It’s funny how he tangles you so well in between his fingers and yet he can’t really make happen to hold those cards right. Cute.

“Mmh?” he whined and you finally let out that laugh you’ve been holding onto. You squeezed his cheek and placed a gentle slap on it, making him question your mood.

He looked at you confused as you melted while holding eye contact. You really really adore this man and his pretty seductive lips. You gave a look-over to the cards , of which you’ve already made a stack after playing them, so that he strikes his next move.

He strategically looked over his cards, trying to pick the best one for his own sake. Hm… ‘What if?’ he thought. ‘What about that one on my lips?’ he thought more precisely. How could he though, he can’t even hold that card among the others, how can he now take it from his lips and place it on top of the others to make his move? He looked up the ceiling to find a way when he thought of the perfect one.

“Take it” he mumbled and you looked at him confused as you couldn’t quite understand. He repeated his phrase but still no recognition coming from his beloved, you.

He rolled his eyes again and with a quick motion, he tried handing it over to you with a similar strategy to pecking your lips. He balanced himself on his hands as he leaned close to you, trying to give you the card he wants to play with so you’d so it for him.

Your heart skipped a beat by how spontaneous he is, a characteristic of his you find very attractive. You replied with a similar gesture, accepting the card with your own lips and playing it for him.

A cute smile filled with success and pride of his showed up and made you smile back. How could you resist the way his smile cracks his cheeks and reveals his adorable mole on his lower lip? You just really love his lips don’t you?

“It’s your turn to play sweetheart.”

“Right” you said, still under the influence of his flirty action

“Are you distracted? I thought we should pay attention!”

“No I’m paying great attention!”

“Yeah but you should pay it on the game don’t you think?” he said and earned a smack on his right shoulder that made him chuckle “You’re so cute” he commented and watched you closely as you were trying to pick your next card

“Why’d you have the need to make me question myself all the time?”

“Don’t act like you don’t like it so that you’re to have the advantage baby. We both know you do”

“I’m not going to say that I do and be defeated that easily”

“Okay, then try not to be defeated elsewhere too, I can now hold my cards. Shit’s getting serious” he reported like he was a journalist or something. Playing all sophisticated like he isn’t the biggest crackhead the world has ever seen. Also, how can one come out being sophisticated when he speaks like that?

You put on a smirk as you’re starting to enjoy his devotion. Card games have been your thing lately. You play all the time. It’s mostly you winning and him wondering why he lost when all he did during it’s duration was tease you.

“You know damn well that I’ll win this time too”

“Do you bet on it?” he asked with a grin on his face

“What do I have to lose? I said I’ll win anyway”

“And if you don’t?”

“If I don’t… Then, what’d you have me do to feel fulfilled?” you wondered

He’ll probably want to do something naughty later, something you’ve probably never tried before that’s been messing him up. He’s a very kinky guy, what else could it be?

“You’ll answer a question I’ve picked for you especially . But there’s no denying it. You’ll have to do it princess”

Fuck. Why’s anxiety being built up inside you now? Why’s your stomach bothered? He really knows how to play. Fucking Jung Wooyoung, he annoys you so much sometimes that you want to punch him in the face. But first of all, he’s too pretty to be punched and second, you have no reason to be scared. You’ll win again after all, won’t you? What’s a little test going to cost you?

“Bet” you replied and a naughty smirk popped on his face. Maybe he’s using all this as a roleplay only to ask you a stupid question in the end. But no, he won’t even have the chance to, cause you’ll win, right?

The heat’s getting real. He has gotten rid of most of his cards while you still are trying to play your last one. Your hands are starting to shake as his competitiveness is now at the highest it’s ever been in all the games you’ve played together so far.

You’re both focused but it’s clear who has the upper hand once again. You’re actually facing a big difficulty here, all this hasn’t come unnoticed to you. He’s actually good. Really good. Where did that come from? Is it that the question he has to ask is that important that it gives him motivation to go hard on you? What the heck?

And before you’d had the chance to realise it, he placed his final card on the card stack, your eyes focused on his motion not able to withstand this happening.

You were actually defeated by Jung Wooyoung, what a day! You never thought that this would happen. All your anxiety has left your body, you’re actually surprised and excited for your future matches. What can one say, you two live for all that tension that’s being crafted for the final dominator’s sake.

All he did was stare at you like he wanted to absorb all the dignity he had just earned from his victory. He clapped for himself and cheered like a little child. Furthermore you too burst into applause for him, proud of that little accomplishment of his. He deserves it.

“Good job Wooyo! How come you made such an upgrade?”

“I really wanted to ask you that question”

“Is it a bad one?”

“You might need some wine for it go down smoothly. Actually it’s me that wants the wine to finally spill that information.”

“Fuck” you hissed at yourself as he went over and grabbed two beautifully sculpted glasses for your usual ‘drunkards’ moment. “Isn’t that too much?”

“I’ll have that one” he said and swallowed it all at once, causing a little of it to spill down his chin. You gently wiped it off and pecked his lips, understanding the difference from their usual taste. “So… Can I make a prologue?”

“Go on”

“Okay… So, how do I even begin? I’m totally not made for this stuff. You see, I’d forgotten how to be a romantic”

‘Why’s he bringing that up so suddenly?’ ,you thought.

“Fuck it, here I go.” he said in very a determined tone before letting out a big sigh “Could you ever possibly fall for a guy like me?”

C’mon, pretend to be shocked Y/N! You can’t do that though, you can’t pretend, cause you are in fact, shocked.

“What kind of question is that…?”

“It’s stupid I know. I’ll ask another one, forget about it”

“No! No it’s not stupid!” you said and held his hands in yours “Of course I would.”

“So you haven’t already, I see. Cause I have”

“You have?!”

“Yes Y/N, poor me has developed feelings for you”

“Poor you?”

“The ‘poor me’ part goes for it being one sided. But I’m a lucky one, getting the opportunity to spend time with you and make such bets. It’s okay, no need to love me back”

‘Love him back’ ?!!?!? He’s actually having you so moved that you might as well make your confession. Why shouldn’t you? Hasn’t he been your comfort person all these months? Hasn’t he made you feel like you’ve got a reason to be excited and happy? Don’t you love spending time with him and getting to see all his aspects? You really do, he’s amazing and you know it. He’s your favorite person. You can’t imagine your life without him anymore and you can’t imagine his life without you.

You love comforting him and so does he. You love being there and watching him get excited over the smallest of everyday things. You love being there and watching him be sad and live through all these human emotions and listen to his struggles. You love it when he opens up to you about his feelings, so the shock you’re now experiencing has a taste of delightfulness to it. You just love him, you really do. You love Jung Wooyoung and the pretty world he has created in his head where he so desperately wants to take you with him so as to enjoy it while accompanying one another.

The tension’s still in the air and you can tell that his desperation has now become an acknowledgement of a false conclusion. And it’s finally time, time for you to give your answer, containing your explanation and confession.

“Me too”

“You too what? I’ve lost the context, sorry love”

“I have feelings for you too Wooyoung.”

“You do?!”

“Yes I do” you told him and this statement took him some seconds to be processed the way it should.

“Of course you do” he said then, proudly, bringing the Woo you know and fell for back on stage ”Won’t you scold me and call me an arrogant asshole?”

“No this time I won’t.”

“Really? Crap and it turns me on so well baby you have no idea” he admitted like his degradation kink was something you didn’t know of already.

He leaned again over the cards to kiss you, throwing them all over the place, causing you both to laugh in between kisses.

“So now what?” he asked and began to kiss down your neck

“What do you mean what?” you replied breathlessly while also trying to give out the focus that was asked of you in a case like this.

“What are we now?”

“We still need time to show us that, I think”

“You’re right. Let’s start from scratch then shall we not?” he proposed and turned you around, ready to make about his feelings again in a language you two’ve been practicing for the time period of the the past four months.

[ssturniolo]

Hopeless pt.2

||pt.1||

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 - Chris x fem!reader

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶 - Chris confesses his feelings

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 - swearing, kissing, angsty confession, mentions of cheating, I think that’s it

It’s been a few weeks since finding your ex cheating and your doing better than ever. It had been a fairly quick recovery after realizing how toxic he really was. Your mental health has improved immensely, you have much more time for yourself and your friends, and you’re overall much happier.

Chris on the other hand, has been acting crazy weird. Ever since comforting you the night you showed up on his doorstep “heartbroken,” he’s been distant and short tempered with you.

This leads to now, standing outside of his bedroom door contemplating if you should knock or just walk in. You’ve been meaning to talk to him for awhile but with tour right around the corner, your couldn’t bring yourself to stress him out more. But truth be told, you miss your best friend and have no clue as to why he could be acting this way.

Cracking open his door, you peek your head in to find him sitting on the bed on his phone.

“Hey” you smile shyly, fully entering his room.

“What do you want” he spits back coldly, his tone of voice most definitely not matching the guilty look on his face.

“I’m just here to talk” you respond, your voice barely above a whisper.

Chris slightly moves to the side, signaling you to sit down.

Now next to him, back pressed against the headboard, your turn your head to face him.

“Spill” you command.

“What? Why are you really here y/n” he asks, clearly annoyed.

Rolling your eyes, you turn your whole body towards him. “Because your being a dick, that’s why.”

“I’m not being ‘a dick’ y/n, you don’t know what your talking about.”

“Excuse me? You’ve been completely ignoring me for the past few weeks without a fucking reason” you say, slightly raising your voice.

“I do have a reason actually” he matches your tone, standing up to pace his room.

“Oh really? What is it then” you shout, angry tears welling up in our eyes.

“It’s not like you’d care” he shouts back, now at a complete stop, not facing you.

“But I do care Chris and you know this!”

Slowly turning to face you, Chris looks down at his hands.

“I’m in love with you” Chris mumbles under his breath.

“Huh?” You question, scooting closer so you can hear him.

“Because I’m fucking in love with you” he starts, finally looking up to meet your eyes. “And watching you go out and get your heart broken by these toxic guys has been torture,” he continues, raking a hand through his hair.

“You love me?” You whisper, more as confirmation of what he just confessed than an actual question.

“Always have, always will y/n.”

Getting up to walk over to him, you smile, brushing hair out of his face.

“I love you too.”

“Can I kiss you?”

Without responding you lean in, feeling his soft lips against yours. Both of your hands snake around his neck while his move up to lightly cup your cheeks. This moment feels magical, no person has ever made you feel the way Chris does, so loved and cared for.

You can’t believe you’ve never noticed how he was the first to ask if your ok, the first to ask about your day, the only person who would drop everything and anything for you. The only person who has always loved you unconditionally.

Maybe you aren’t so hopeless after all.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

I hope this meets y’all’s expectations ! :)

XOXO - Zoe

People who wanted to be tagged:

@opheliaofficial07 @big-reputaytion-oo @queenofsimpsblog @slaysturniolo @gabbylovesreading

[ncityprincess]

girl write smth with jungwoo like I'm thirsty for jungwoo bc there are no jungwoo new posts on this site I'm going crazy everyday without reading smth with jungwoo (I'm insane)

Distraction

Jungwoo girlies come get y’all juice! Tbh Jungwoo is the most mysterious 127 member to me, but I wanted to take some time to think about how his fictional persona would be, and I think he would be super whipped for his girl (or whoever). Y/N is kind of a ditzy brat, I think that would be his type tbh. Anywho, let me know what you guys think 🤗

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

“Ugh i literally don’t understand any of this. I’m so doomed!” You sighed hopelessly, tossing yourself back onto your cozy pink bed. Jungwoo laughed at your dramatic antics lovingly, growing accustomed to your girly and cute personality. Your boyfriend has always been a super mega genius math nerd, as you liked to call him. He was effortlessly excelling in math and engineering classes that even seniors were struggling with. You were positive he was solving math problems fresh out of the womb.

Jungwoo, being the kindhearted boyfriend he was, volunteered to tutor you, and for the past few weeks he’s been diligently and patiently helping you. Throughout these painful study sessions, he never once made you feel like you were dumb or that you were bothering him. He loved you so much, he didn’t care how many times he had to repeat the same things to you. He was more than happy to help you pass this class.

Jungwoo’s hand slid up and down your thigh, bringing you back to reality, and you pouted at him like a wounded puppy. You were a public relations major, why were you being forced to take stupid math classes anyway!?

“Baby, don’t say that. We have all night to study. Why don’t we take a little break, huh?” Jungwoo consoled you so sweetly as he always did when you were having one of your math meltdowns. Always looking at the bright side of things, he tried his best to reassure you that you just needed more practice. You on the other hand, were not having any of it. “Hmph..I don’t want a break, I wanna drop this stupid class. I hate it! I hate math! I hate everything! Ugh!!” You whined dramatically, tossing your hands in the air in defeat.

Were you slightly playing up the dramatics to receive a little extra attention from your sweet boyfriend? Perhaps. But truly, you really did hate this class with a burning passion, and maybe you did need a little distraction from studying…

“Aw, my sweet baby, c’mere,” jungwoo reached for your hand, attempting to pull you back up to a sitting position next to him.

“No” you whined, keeping yourself down on your back.

“Babyyyy,” Jungwoo matched your whiny tone, and bent down to kiss your forehead. That got a small giggle out of you, and he peppered a thousand more kisses all over your face. Jungwoo’s hands ran up and down your arms, leaving hot goosebumps along the way. His lips migrated to your ear, and his low voice sent shivers up your spine.

“Need a break, angel?” You shifted your eyes to look into his, admiring how his brown locks hung in his face. He was so beautiful…

You bit your plump bottom lip, and nodded at him silently. Jungwoo knew you too well by now. When you got in one of these moods, you wanted nothing more to be nurtured and taken care of. That was no problem for him. You had him wrapped around your pretty little finger, and he loved it.

Jungwoo gently caressed your face before he maneuvered on top of you, and slowly eased himself lower and lower until he was in front of your lower body. He looked at you, never breaking eye contact as he lifted up your skirt. He hooked his fingers into your pink lace panties, pushing them to the side and checking to see how wet you were. He smirked when he heard you let out an airy moan.

“Aw, this is what the princess wanted, huh? Just needed some little kisses and touches?” You let out a breathy sigh and pushed your hips into his hand, completely disregarding the world around you. All you cared about was Jungwoo touching you. “I always need you Woo, always…” he slid his fingers up and down your folds a few more times before peeling his shirt off and pushing his grey sweatpants down. He looked back up to see your fingers picking up where his left off, and you shot him a devious smile.

“Always such a needy girl, aren’t you?” Jungwoo dug in your bedside table drawer for a condom, and continued watching you play with yourself as he rolled it onto his hard cock. You finally moved your hands away and allowed him to slide himself through your wet folds a few times. “Mmm fuck me already baby,” you whined out in a bratty tone. Jungwoo smiled at your antics once again and fulfilled your request, bottoming out into your soaking wet hole.

“Fuckkkk baby you’re so tight” Jungwoo groaned. You moaned in response, running your hands across your bouncing chest. “Mm yeah? I’m tight baby?” Jungwoo was hypnotized by your bedroom voice and dark eyes to match. You were definitely the best partner he’s ever had. You turned him on like no one else could, and it showed in the way he thrusted into you. You held onto the backs of your thighs, pushing them against your chest and fully opening yourself up for your boyfriend. This was way better than trying to understand what a factorial was for the 100th time.

Jungwoo’s eyes locked in on your dripping cunt, admiring how fast his dick moved in and out of you. “God just like that baby, you’re fucking me so good,” you moaned out, ready to burst at any moment. Jungwoo groaned at your naughty words, and a hand flew to your nipples to help you get there quicker. “Shit, shit y/n I’m cumming” Jungwoo moaned out and emptied himself into the condom. He thrusted into you a few more times, overstimulating himself and bringing you over the edge at the same time.

Jungwoo collapsed on top of you, and you slowly released the hold on your legs, wrapping them around his waist. You were on cloud nine, relishing in the delicious high you two just shared. You laced your hands through jungwoo’s hair and placed a wet kiss onto his neck.

“Thanks for the distraction, Wooie”

[stursweet]

hi 💌 initially, i was going to leave this alone.. i HATE to bring “serious” shit to a space that i came to to write my stupid little fics and make bitches laugh.. and it has been that for a while (and thank you guys SO much for that. there are so many wonderful people that take time out of their day to read what i say and that means so much you have no idea). this past week i’ve gotten an influx of anons that, to put it fuckin lightly, HATE a bitch. they tearing my ass to SHREDS - and, they’re sending these messages so frequently that i have to scroll for a solid minute past their bs to get to my actual requests. the main topic of these messages (apart from telling me to kms 🤗💖) are attacks at my “insanity and delusion” ( i had to laugh).. i know i be on here spittin about how i need chris and shit.. and i do but like ? when did i say i thought we was actually fuckin like 😔 and i’m on HERE saying it because i thought this was a community where we could joke and laugh about how we all want they fine asses and make horny lil comments.. i chose to be on HERE because i thought we was better than this.. clearly not 🤣 telling me to kill myself and saying you’re gonna slit my throat over me saying i wanna suck some dick is crazy ☹️ obviously i love him a lot , i’ve been a fan for three years.. but obviously i’m not actually inhaling dat dick like .. come on😕 we all fans in the end just tryna read some fuckin shit. i appreciate all of you so much that have been kind and supportive🫂💖 im gonna take a break for a few days. hopefully this calms the hell down and i stop receiving these messages. i do want to still write and have this connection with y’all, but i also don’t want to be fuckin bullied 😭 i hope you understand. see you later 🤍

[elocinnicole]

Much Needed Break

Much Needed Break

Pairing: Daveed Diggs x Black!Reader

Rating: 18+ SMUT (oral f receiving, unprotected sex, foreplay)

Requested: No

Summary: Starting to feel burnt out and Reader gets a surprise from Daveed.

Note: I’ve been writing like crazy y’all. These past few fics have been WIP’s that have been collecting dust on my laptop. I took a sick day earlier this week and have been finishing up these WIPs I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 3K

Whoever said being a Mom is a beautiful experience, fucking lied. Never in your life have you wanted to be more alone than this moment right now. Daniel had a meltdown in the middle of the store because they were sold out his favorite cereal and refused to pick a different one. Ari has been going through diapers like tic-tacs. The last pregnancy you couldn’t produce enough milk, now it seems like you had to pump every hour or you’ll start leaking through your clothes. You were still healing from your C-Section with Ari which made dealing with everything that much more painful. The plan was to have a home birth but Ari was breech which made you have the C-Section and pushed back you filming the newest season of Bridgerton.

“Maybe you need a break.” Jasmine suggested

“I mean Daveed’s movie premiere is tomorrow. We got a hotel for the night.”

“No, that is not a break. You need a getaway with your husband.”

“I don’t know, I don’t have the time and I feel like even if we do go on a trip, I’m gonna be too tired to do anything.” You’re finding it harder and harder to get up each morning, since Daveed is in the middle of filming his days were early and long. Meaning he wasn’t there to help you in the morning with the kids. You really didn’t want to hire anybody but maybe you need to, at least until you’ve finished filming.

“My Fenty came in today so I thought I could put it on and see what happens.”

“See what happens? Girl I ain’t know it was this bad. You need to get that back broke like a glow stick.”

“When do we have the time Jazz? Between the Bluey marathon or Gracie’s Corner?”

“That’s a start but I still think the two of you need a break. Mainly you.”

“We’re getting a hotel tomorrow.” You reasoned

“Girl, a break from the kids, LA, your house.”

“Maybe you’re right, I’ll talk to Daveed about it.”

“I am. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Alright girl, bye.”

You heard a car door shut, and eagerly ran downstairs to get ready. You’ve been missing, Daveed…a lot. Not only were you filming a show, but you’re also only four months postpartum, adjusting to being parents for two under the age of five, and Daveed filming his movie over seas, the time to be intimate was almost nonexistent. You went into the kitchen and poured yourself and Daveed a glass of wine before heading back upstairs to wait for him. The kids were asleep, candles were lit, you had a bath waiting for the two of you upstairs. You had everything planned.

You waited and waited for Daveed to come upstairs, but it’s already been ten minutes. You tried to stay awake but the exhaustion from your busy day took over and you fell asleep.

When you woke up, there was a blanket placed over you and the wine glasses from last night were gone. You got out of bed you glanced at the clock, and it was only 8:00 AM. You checked on Daniel and Ari, and they were already out of bed. Daveed must’ve taken them downstairs.

You walked into the kitchen, and you should’ve been grateful to see your husband making breakfast but the only thing you could think about is the mess he’s making while doing it.

“Morning! I didn’t want to walk you, Ari was fussy, so I gave her a bath. By then, Daniel was already up so I figured we’d get breakfast started.”

“We made you breakfast, Mommy.” Daniel smiled; face covered in syrup. Daveed smiled you tried to return it, but you walked over to the highchairs where your children were nestled safely, kissing their foreheads. You made yourself a cup of coffee and went to sit in the sunroom alone.

You were torn at your feelings; you’ve been waiting for the day when Daveed woke up with you and had breakfast as a family. The one thing you wanted to do right now had some peace and quiet to yourself. You’ve been in Mommy mode for the last three years and you were exhausted.  Not that Daveed wasn’t present, but you were the one who got the phone calls from daycare, took Daniel to the dentist and doctor. Ari was breastfed and since Daveed started filming soon after she was born, she was a “Mommy’s Girl”. Which left you very little time to be alone as Ari would refuse to go to anyone even sometimes Daveed.

“I made you a plate.” You turned to see Daveed standing in the doorway with a breakfast tray for you. You felt a pang of guilt, Daveed probably wanted to spend time with you but then you remembered that Daveed didn’t come to bed last night.

“Thanks.”    

“Babe—”

“What did you do last night when you came home?”

“I-I was uh…playing video games?”

“Why are you saying it like it’s a question, were you or weren’t you?”

“I was, it was a long day and I needed to unwind.”

“Okay, thanks for the breakfast.” You said, unsatisfied with his answer.

“Babe, I’m sorry I didn’t come to bed sooner. By the time I came up you were already sleep and I didn’t want to wake you. I didn’t know you had planned something—”

“It’s okay,” No it wasn’t. “Thanks for breakfast.” You grabbed the plate from Daveed.

“Babe,”

“Thanks for the breakfast.”

Daveed can admit it, his schedule has been busy for the past few weeks, to be honest, months. It’s taken time away from not only you but the kids. Not that you weren’t happy for him, his movie is expected to generate a lot of Oscar buzz and he has to do press. Daveed tried to make up for it by calling and facetiming you and the kids often, but that still doesn’t make you miss him any less or him feel less guilty. 

Today he was home, the official premier of his movie is tonight. The plan would be you and Daveed we get a hotel in the city with the kids. While you two were out, Nicolette and Jasmine were going to watch the kids. Then, back to the hotel for the night and check out the following morning. This would be the first night in a long time that you and Daveed were going out, just the two of you. You wished it wasn’t a LA movie premier but, nonetheless, it would be your fist night without the kids, sorta. You’ve never gotten dressed for an event with both Daniel and Ari though, you’ve done it plenty of times with Daniel but now you have him and Ari.

The easy going morning was short-lived as you stated getting ready to leave for the hotel. Daveed had gone to get something he needed from the store. You urged him to have it delivered but he just had to go. Leaving you with the kids. Alone. Again. You put both of them down for a nap so you could pack in peace. You were currently in Daniel’s room getting his bag together. A series of rapid knocks and the doorbell ringing pulled you out of your thoughts. You instantly groaned,

“Who the hell is that?” You mumbled to yourself. You dragged your feet down the hall and down the steps. You opened the door and weren’t ready to see your friends standing on the other side.

“What the hell?”

“Are you gonna invite us in or?” Nicolette asked.

“Uh, yeah come in. What are you guys doing we’re supposed to meet you at the hotel.”

“We know, Daveed called us last night.” Jasmine explained.

“Last night?”

“Yes, so go upstairs. Daveed’s gonna be here in like five minutes.” Jasmine urged.

“I’m not packed! I was getting the kids stuff together.”

“Daveed packed your bags for you. Put something on he’ll be here soon!”

You went upstairs to your bedroom and sure enough, Daveed had your bags packed you frowned at the luggage he used. Maybe he packed both of your things together. You threw on your favorite lounge set and some sneakers. You went back downstairs, luggage in tow to see Jasmine and Emmy playing with Daniel and Ari.

Not wanting to draw attention you waved silently left to meet Daveed outside. You smiled upon seeing your husband waiting outside the car for you. Forgetting about your luggage, you run up to Daveed and jumped into his arms.

“I’m sorry,”

“For what?”

“Being a bitch this morning.”

“I’m to blame for that, I know I haven’t been around—”

“It’s not your fault,”

“It kinda is, so we’re flying to France for the premier there.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, also I want to show off the woman that’s been holding me down for the last six years.”

“What about the premiere tonight?”

“We’re not going, we’re going to the airport tonight. But we only have five hours so I’m gonna send you off to your nails and hair done and then we’re going to the airport.”

“Daveed—” he cut you off with a kiss

“I’ll see you later. I’ll finish up here.”

Right after your pamper session, you and Daveed were on a first-class plane ride to France.

You still don’t know how Daveed managed to get this all set up in a little bit of time he had. Daveed prepared a full afternoon for you as soon as you landed, a private couple massage in the hotel room he booked, lunch brought to the room and a facial. The premier wasn’t until the next day, but Daveed wanted to pamper you to the fullest. He was out doing some last-minute things so you took this time to call Jasmine and Nicolette.

“Girl I wish I had a husband like yours.” Jasmie joked

“I know I might have to let him get some ass tonight. He’s been asking since we got together.”

“Girl you gonna have to do a split on it.” Nicolette teased

“Make a whole movie.”

“What’s your new Porn Star name girl?”

“Shut up, how are my babies?”

“Ari’s been up since 7:30, Daniel’s still sleep. We’re about to wake him up and give them breakfast.”

“Is Ari okay?”

“She was fussy last night but we got her to lie down. Daniel’s been fine, girl he hasn’t even asked about you guys.”

“That sounds about right, well I was just calling to check on you guys. Thank y’all so much.”

“Of course! We got you girl, go get dicked down tonight.”

“Oh my gosh, bye!” As soon as you ended the call Daveed entered the room. A fresh bouquet in hand

“Are those for me? Babe, this is entirely too much.”

“I don’t think it’s enough.” Daveed pulled you into a kiss

“Daveed, really this is just…thank you babe.”

“You deserve it.”

“What’s the plan for tonight?”

“Dinner at Substance and then you’ll see after.”

You were amazed at the attention to detail that your husband put into making you feel loved and appreciated in this little bit of time. Some how the two of you had a private dinner a in room away from everyone else. You haven’t spent this much time as a couple since before you had Daniel. Not that you weren’t grateful for the little family that you’ve made but you miss just spending time as husband and wife, but with your growing popularity and life it’s been difficult.

“Promise me, that we won’t lose this when we go back home.” You said

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I don’t want the only time we have time together…just the two of us is when you plan these elaborate getaways. I want alone time with you back in LA too.”

“I know I’m partially to blame for that…we’ll do better. I’ll do better to make sure we don’t forget about us.”

“It’s not just you, it’s me too. I love being a mom, but I don’t want to forget how to be the person you fell in love with.”

“Me either. I love you so much.”

“I love you too Daveed.” The two met in a loving deep kiss. You wrapped your arms around Daveed’s neck, he pressed his hand against the small of your back pulling you closer, as if that were possible. You pulled away first, breathing heavily.

“Make love to me, Daveed.”

Daveed’s lips never left your skin from time you left the restaurant to now laying against the bed while Daveed took his time undressing you. In the car leaving the restaurant, Daveed teased your clit over you lacy thong while sucking on your neck. You had to bite your lip to keep from moaning out loud in the car. It didn’t help in the elevator that Daveed was kneading your ass while waiting to arrive to your floor. His hands and moth were attached to you in some way, driving you crazy. He always stop just short of making you cum, edging you.

“Daveed,” you moaned impatiently

“Wait…” Daveed tenderly took the straps off your shoulders and shimmed the dress down your body happy to only see you wearing a black thong.

“Damn baby just a thong?”

“All for you.” Daveed attacked your neck before making his way to your breasts, taking one nipple in his mouth gently biting and sucking in it while he tugs on the other. You cried out in ecstasy, arching your back off the bed. Daveed switched to the other breast offering the same treatment. Your lift your hips, hoping to feel something.

Daveed makes his way down your body, avoiding where you want his mouth the most, instead he kisses your inner thighs.

“I love you so fucking much. You deserve the whole world and if I could give it to you I would. So perfect, beautiful, my wife.” You moaned at the praises mind too foggy to say anything. Daveed opens your legs and moans at the sigh before him, your thong soaking wet from the foreplay. He mouths at your clothed pussy, and you let out the most pornographic moan that went straight to Daveed’s dick.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

“Daveed…please. I want you.” You breathed.

“You have me, baby.”

“Please…please.”

“Use your words, what do you want?”

“I want…I want your mouth on my pussy.”

“See, how hard was that?” Daveed moves your panties to the side and sucks on your clit. Your hands shoot to his hair, pulling on it, causing him to groan.

“Oh, fuck Daveed.” He opens your folds and starts eating you out like it’s his last meal. Daveed could feel your walks squeezing around his tongue, he pulled his tongue away and plunged three fingers in you finding that spot and went back to sucking your clit.

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” You squealed as your juices flowed into Daveed’s awaiting mouth. You pulled him in for a passionate kiss, teeth clashing against each other. You moaned at the taste of yourself on his lips. Desperate for something, you began grinding your hips up against his to feel anything. You started tugging on his clothes, tired of being teased.

“Too many clothes.” Daveed smirked, he loved when you were fucked out and needy. He quickly took off his clothes and threw them to the floor. He hooked his hands under your legs and pulled you toward him. He grabbed his dick and rubbed his tip on your folds, you were so wet he could’ve just slipped his dick in but he anted to tease you some more.

“Make love to me. No more teasing.”

“Since you asked me so nicely.” Daveed slowly pushed in until he bottomed out. You moaned at the stretch, it’s been a while since you and Daveed were intimate, but you welcomed the slight pain. Daveed had to compose himself before moving, your pussy hugging his dick so nicely that he almost came at that moment. He placed your legs over his shoulders for a deeper angle making you both groan. When he started thrusting it didn’t take long for. The squelching of his dick going in and out of you was music to your ears. Some days, it was rough and hard, sometimes you only have time for a quickie, but now Daveed wanted to take his time with you and live in this moment forever. There was no rush, no Zoom interview, no five-minute commercial break, just the two of you in this moment.

“Daveed, Daveed,” You clawed at his back as you reached your peak, quicker than you wanted to. Daveed kept the same pace not wanting this to end, holding his own release at bay. You closed your eyes overtaken by the immense pleasure your husband was giving.

“Look at me,” Daveed ordered you opened your eyes and was met with Daveed’s intense stare. “keep looking at me, okay.” You nodded your head gasping as he kept fucking you into your next orgasm.

“Daveed, it’s too much.” Daveed’s slow deep stroke were killing you. You chanted his name over and over like a mantra.

“One more, just give me one more baby. I know you can do it.” Daveed’s thrust were getting sloppy as he was reaching his peak. One more thrust and you came together, your walls squeezing him as he came inside you. You both breathed heavily as you were coming down from your high. After a few moments, Daveed pulled out of you and pulled you close to him.

“Hey,” He breathed, you smiled softly.

“Hey. That was amazing.” You could see the compliment go to your husband’s head and rolled your eyes. You drew lazy circle on his chest.

“Thank you everything.”

“I should be thanking you and I’m sorry for not making you feel appreciated. I love you and I wouldn’t want to do life with anyone else but you.”

“I love you too Daveed.” You shared one final kiss before drifting off to sleep in the arms of your husband.

Tagging: @nikole-witha-k @iknowthekoolaidflavor @ramp-it-up @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @blackpinup22 @chrisevanswife0405 @mellie-teh-goblin-queen @azxulaa @luckyfriess @thatdamnlyssa @endless-romantic-stories @daveeds-wife @emilia-i @gothic-slaherfan-weeb @slashersluxsworld @chattykathysquietsister @aliyahsomerhalder @crystalannetem @tuhnayshuh

[hotchs-bitch]

Fluffy Feb Day 27- Snow

Warnings: getting together, only one bed trope except I as the author provided 2 beds and they do it to themselves, Canada (which was supposed to be realistic but comes across as satire. No judging me unless you are also Canadian), some 18+ implications but nothing happens

Pairing: Hotch x blank slate Fem!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 4.1k (i went crazy :/)

A/N: Honestly I've either made up or researched everything I've put in a fic about America so it was a nice change to just Know Things (although I am not from the province where this takes place). Also in my mind this is a continuation to Day 9- Pine

Once again, bonus points if you can figure out which Taylor Swift song I was listening to when writing this

Cases have taken you all over the country, face to face with some of the worst serial killers that America has ever seen. Much less often, they take you to Canada.

Specifically, in the case of a psychopath who skipped borders after killing in two states almost a decade ago and resumed his killing spree further north now, they occasionally take you to the middle of Nowheresville, Saskatchewan, Canada. In the dead of winter.

“Hey, folks.” The chief of police greets you all- well, most of you, since Rossi and Prentiss are already out on the field- with a friendly wave, shaking Hotch’s hand. “Chief McCartney. Sorry to make y’all take a trip up here, but we sure can use the help.”

“The FBI has been searching for the unsub for some time,” Hotch answers as their hands part. “The case has been assumed cold for several years by the Bureau, so we’re grateful you reached out. Two of my agents are at the latest crime scene already.”

“Where should we set up?” JJ asks, and the chief leads you to a conference room. “And, er, speaking of cold…”

You’re all very cold, just from the drive from the airstrip to the station. You’d seen people snowmobiling past the road, and JJ had marvelled aloud wondering how they could bear to be out in this weather. It’s not surprising that she’s the first one to bring up the chilly air in the precinct with her parka still zipped up to her chin.

McCartney snaps his fingers like he’s remembered something important. “Y’all must be freezing, eh? Let me rustle up a space heater, get you nice and toasty.”

The fact that he’s wearing a button-down shirt and a light jacket isn’t lost on any of the experienced profilers in the room. “You’re not cold?” Derek asks, half in disbelief. “Man, I grew up in Chicago and I can’t feel my toes right now.”

“We hit minus 30’s a few weeks back,” McCartney says, wincing. “Sorry, I didn’t even think of it. Guess we’re all used to it around here by now.”

“Minus…” You glance at Spencer, who’s locked and loaded with an answer.

“Negative 30 degrees Celsius is about negative 22, Fahrenheit,” he reports. “I’d estimate we’re closer to negative 31 degrees Farenheit, though.”

“He’s smart. Windchill’s pushing us a little under,” McCartney confirms. “I’ll go get that space heater. Y’all settle in, and I’ll have one of my officers bring over the files ASAP.”

You ‘settle in’ as best you can, poring over the case with your team while wrapped in thick sweaters and cradling to-go cups of coffee. They’re branded with the Tim Hortons logo from the traveller case that one of the officers brings for you along with the files and a box of donut holes labelled ‘Timbits’. The space heater sits in the corner of the room, slowly bringing the space to a temperature that you’re all used to.

Hotch takes the first sip of his coffee without adding anything into it, his face screwing up at the taste. “It’s not too good when it’s black,” the officer tells him. “Sorry, should’ve warned you. Try a double double, it’s way better.”

“Here, I’ve got it.” You take Hotch’s coffee from him, adding in two little packets of sugar and two creamer cups while he watches you. “Better?” He stirs it and takes a sip, deliberating.

The second sip must be miles better than the first. “It’s not as bitter. I think that’s all I can ask for,” he murmurs while he takes a seat next to you, and you smirk.

He’s wearing the same quarter-zip that made an appearance when you went to Alaska, and he seems relatively warm. Lucky him. The less-built members of your team, particularly JJ and Spencer, have rosy cheeks and keep sticking their hands in their pockets to warm them. Poor Spencer goes through several cups of coffee in mere hours, a weak attempt to warm himself from the inside out.

Nearing the end of the day, you all pack up your things. There haven’t been any more murders today, but the information gleaned from the crime scenes helps you add to the profile. The unsub has a pattern of striking each week, probably to gauge how close the investigation is to catching him during the cooldown period, and he hasn’t strayed from the pattern since resurfacing.

You trudge to the hotel across the street from the police station- this town is so tiny that you don’t think it’s made up of anything other than a main street and rows of suburbia housing- in the pitch-black, wind whistling by your ears and freezing them. The sun went down several hours ago even though it’s only nearing seven PM, and the dark doesn’t lift anyone’s spirits.

“Get some rest,” Hotch says while he hands out room keys in the hotel lobby, speaking over the sound of chattering teeth. It’s more of an order than a request. “We’re at the station bright and early tomorrow, and I want you all rested and ready to work.”

The room key in your hands leads you down a hallway to a door that you unlock right as Hotch turns the corner. “119, right?” He clarifies, and you nod. “Alright. You’re with me.”

“Sounds good.” Your voice sounds cool and even, and you’re sort of proud of yourself for keeping it together after finding out that you’re sharing a hotel room with your very kind, very attractive boss. You’ve shared a room with him before, but it’s a battle of willpower to appear normal every time.

The hotel room is decently nice, and it’s warmer than you expected. Two queen-sized beds share a nightstand, and there’s a desk with a coffeemaker on it pressed up to the wall next to the TV. It’s a standard hotel room, a setup you’re familiar with. The heater under the window is whirring, filling the room with blissfully warm air- almost too warm- that has you shedding your jacket as Hotch sets his go bag on one bed and his briefcase on the desk.

“No working,” you remind him, your tone as scolding as it is light-hearted. “Bright and early, remember?”

Hotch snorts at that, then takes off his quarter-zip sweater. “We’ll be six bitter coffees deep before the sun comes up,” he says, but you struggle to hear a single word out of his mouth when you see his biceps through the thin white material of his shirt. He’s been covered up all day, and you haven’t hit your daily quota of staring at his arms.

It’s been a hard day, particularly for that reason.

“I’m going to shower,” Hotch says after a moment, discarding his fleece on the desk chair. He picks up his go bag, and the bathroom door closes behind him a moment later.

By the time he re-enters, wearing flannel pajamas pants and a white shirt, you’re fiddling with the heater. It seems to be broken, and when you turn the dial to blow cold air in the room it only seems to come out a few degrees cooler.

“The blanket’s really heavy,” you warn as he gets into his own bed. You can’t believe you’re overheating at negative-a-million degrees, but the combined weight of the duvet and warm air blowing steadily into the room is reminiscent of falling asleep in Arizona rather than the snowy north. “Something’s wrong with the heater.”

“I’ll try to manage,” he responds with a dry smile before pulling the blanket over himself. It lands on him with a solid sound, thick duvet against chest, and a soft ‘oof’, and you count to three in your head before he says, “Okay, you were right.’

“Aren’t I always?” You pull your own duvet down when you get into bed, leaving yourself covered with the top sheet of the bedspread. He stays underneath his blankets, not shifting them while you reach out and turn the lamp off.

Falling asleep has never been so difficult. Without the thick duvet, you’re curled into a ball within five minutes when the slightly colder air fills the room. With it, you’re sweating so much that it’s a wonder you aren’t sliding right off the bed. One leg pokes out from under the heavy covers, but it feels like the only part of your body that’s at a closer-to-normal temperature while the rest of you overheats. You toss and turn, falling asleep briefly every once in a while for maybe ten minutes at a time.

It’s a little embarrassing, actually. Your blanket and sheet are lifted and shifted so many times that you have to hope you aren’t waking Hotch up, even when you move as quietly as possible. The only sound in the air is the wind whistling and fabric shifting, louder than you thought possible.

Around 1 AM, hours after trying to fall asleep, you’ve all but given up. You’re considering getting to work on the file by lamplight, or just stripping down naked under the thick blankets. What other option do you have?

That’s when you hear a grunt from the other bed, and Hotch’s outline shifts in bed. You can see him move around, lifting up like he’s flipping over his pillow. In the barely-there lighting from a streetlamp, you notice that his duvet is ruffled and partially folded over itself. It looks like he’s been tossing and turning, just like you.

“Aaron,” you whisper once he’s still. It’s quiet; he can pretend not to hear you if he’s close to falling asleep, and you won’t be offended. 

When he responds, his voice is gruff and just as loud as it was in the precinct today. “Yeah?”

“Can’t sleep?” It’s a stupid question, you realize as soon as it leaves your mouth. He isn’t sleeptalking, after all.

He doesn’t call you out on it, but just sighs instead. “No. It’s not working too well for me. I’m really hot.”

Yeah, you are, you want to say, but the logical side of your brain beats the sentence back with a stick before you can say it out loud. “Me too. How do you think everyone else is doing?

“Better than us, I hope.” He sits up in bed slightly; you can tell from the rustling and the dim outline. “I’m sure Dave has some kind of temperature-controllable blanket with him.”

“Spencer probably researched the best kind of pajamas to bring,” you joke back, and Aaron chuckles at that.

“Morgan probably worked out before bed and didn’t need any blankets,” he murmurs, and you snicker.

“JJ and Emily are probably cuddling for warmth.”

Why did you say that? The high altitude- the provincial average is roughly 1700 feet above sea-level, Spencer would tell you- combined with the restlessness is probably getting to you.

Aaron clears his throat, and you cough. Neither of you seems to know what to say, so he speaks first. “As long as they don’t tell me anything. It’s a lot of paperwork, for that sort of… fraternization.”

“Well, I mean. If they’re just doing it to keep warm, that’s got to be an exception,” you point out.

“I.. suppose so, yes. As long as nothing further were to happen, two agents just trying to keep each other warm isn’t inappropriate. They… we all need to be professional.”

He sounds hesitant now, speaking carefully like he doesn’t want to say the wrong thing. You wonder if he’s dancing around the same thought as you. If he is, is he trying to avoid it? Or does he not want to say it first?

“So, by that logic…” you trail off, waiting for Aaron to say something. He can say anything now. He can cut you off, bid you goodnight again, or even ask you to go bunk with Rossi, but he doesn’t.

The fact that he also isn’t exactly not encouraging you doesn’t disembolden you at all. “Yes?”

“Well. You know,” you murmur. “I’m just saying that if it’s completely professional… and if it’s helping them sleep, and therefore be more well-rested to catch a serial killer tomorrow…”

“What are you saying?” He isn’t really asking. You can hear his smirk as clearly as wind whistling through the trees outside your window. “I think you need to clarify for me.”

Your huff of annoyance is more forced than it sounds. “I’m saying that if we sleep in the same bed we might be able to actually sleep. Body heat, and all that.”

Aaron’s voice is softer now, less sure than when he teased you just a minute ago. “Are you comfortable with that?”

“If it’s okay with you, then it’s okay with me,” you promise. The only sound in the room for a moment is both of you breathing, and you wonder if he can hear your heart thumping against your ribcage. What are you doing?

“Alright,” Aaron agrees after a long moment, pushing the duvet down to the foot of his bed. “Does it matter what side you sleep on?”

You get out of your own bed, and murmur, “No,” as he rolls over to make room for you. He lifts the top sheet up and you slide in under it, curling up. There’s still some distance between you, and you try to maintain it; he’s the one who’s concerned about things being ‘inappropriate’, after all. There’s no need for him to know that your heart is beating so fast that it feels like it’s about to jackhammer out of your chest.

“Goodnight,” you mumble as soon as your head hits the pillow. His body heat is like a furnace, warming you up perfectly from a foot away, and the thin sheet is warm like it’s been waiting for you to climb in. He says something under his breath- ‘goodnight’, maybe- but it’s been such a long day that you fall asleep in what feels like seconds without responding.

When you wake up to the sound of Aaron’s phone alarm, you’re much less than a foot away from each other in the warmest bed you’ve ever known. He’s curled up against your back, one of his arms slung around your waist to hold you to his chest. Previous experience with room-sharing tells you that he doesn’t wake up at the first alarm- he usually sets two or three, a few minutes apart- and you’ve got a couple of minutes to just be.

The sound of the alarm grates on you, but it must be on a timer because it stops ringing after a minute or so, and you relax back into Aaron. His cheek is resting against the back of your head, and you can hear his steady breaths in time with the rise and fall of his chest against you. It feels good, it feels right to wake up like this. You don’t want it to end, but you know that it has to.

When the second alarm goes off, he rouses with a little startle, like he doesn’t remember where he is. The arm around your waist tightens, just for a moment, as his body relaxes into yours. Soft as a whisper, you could swear that you feel warm lips brush the shell of your ear before he pulls his arm away and sits up.

The room is just as dark now as it was a few hours ago, and Aaron manages to fumble for his phone and quiet the alarm before he speaks. His voice is raspier than it was in the middle of the night when he checks the time and then says, “It’s almost a quarter to seven. Er, did you sleep well?”

“Very.” You yawn as you sit up, stretching both arms above your head. “I wouldn’t complain about a couple more hours, though. That whole same-bed thing works wonders.”

Aaron yawns too, turning away to grab his go-bag as he stands up. “I’m glad to hear it. You can go shower. I’ll change out here.”

“Deal.” You gather your own things when you get to your feet, disappearing into the bathroom to get ready for the day. Your mind is already on the case, pushing aside all thoughts of sleep arrangements and large arms holding you close in favour of your job. When you exit the bathroom, Aaron is already gone.

When you meet with the team in the lobby, you find out that he headed to the station right away to get ahead on the case. Everyone bundles up before walking back to the precinct; the walk is no warmer than it was last night, and fresh snow begins to fall just as you get to the doors of the precinct.

Once you find your way to the same room as yesterday, you find Hotch already there, dressed in yesterday’s fleece. He’s got a Tim Horton’s cup in one hand, and he sips it while staring, perplexed, at the geographic profile. “Good morning,” he greets everyone at once. “Reid, I was thinking. If we intersect his old hideout parameters from Minnesota and Georgia with his murders here, then…” their chatter fades into white noise as you turn your attention to the files lining the tables.

The first hour passes in a blur, the conference room lit only by harsh overhead fluorescents as you trade theories and examine new evidence provided by the local officers. The clock is just announcing the arrival of 9 AM, the sky beginning to brighten slightly, when you realize that you need coffee.

You’ve got the same setup as yesterday in that regard, too. One of the officers must have picked up a fresh traveller for you, evidenced by the steam rolling off of the coffee that Hotch is pouring for himself. “How’s it going?” He asks, stirring two creams and two sugars into his coffee.

“No big break yet, but I’m sure we’re close. We’re going to get this guy soon,” you promise, and Hotch nods at that. “I wanted to thank you again. For, you know. Helping me sleep last night.”

“It was no trouble,” he assures you, fiddling with the stir stick in his hand. “It was helpful for me, too.”

“And, hey.” You lower your voice a bit, and Hotch leans in to hear you better. “Maybe we can do it again tonight. You know, if that’s okay with you.”

He gives you a smile, that tight-lipped one you’re used to seeing around the office. “It’s alright with me. I just don’t want to… well, I’m your boss. I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with. It has no impact on my views of your professionalism.”

There’s that word again. You wish he could be a little less professional, for once. But he’s right, he’s your boss, and there are certain things he can’t say first. Your profiling skills tell you that he still wants to say them though. “Well, what happens in Canada can stay in Canada,” you half-jest.

“It can, if you want it to,” he murmurs. He still hasn’t taken a sip of his coffee, and he hands the cup to you while he pours a second one. “The sun will be coming up, soon.”

He’s right. Pale orange is streaking the sky through the large conference room window, tracing pink lines around the edge of the sun that’s just starting to peek up into the prairie sky. The snow is still falling, painting a picturesque image in the sky “It’s gorgeous,” you comment, taking a sip of your coffee. Without taking your eyes off the sky, you step a little closer to Hotch.

“Yes,” he agrees, holding his coffee in his right hand. His left rests on the table that your back is against, and it might be wishful thinking, but you think that he would wrap that arm around you again if there were no one else around. “It certainly is.”

----

“Longest week of my life,” Emily complains as soon as you’re airborne, a mere three days later. The unsub has been apprehended and is in federal custody of the country you’re returning home to. “But those beds were insanely comfortable. I haven’t slept that well in months.”

You and Aaron exchange a glance, a double-layered inside joke about why Emily slept so well and why exactly you both slept so well for several nights in a row. 

The last four nights have brought with them some of the best rest of your life. You’ve grown familiar with the feeling of Aaron’s arms around you in the morning, and by day three he stopped jerking them away as soon as he woke up.

That was the same day he asked you out, his gaze averted while he fiddled with a gold-coloured coin that he had received as change when he went out to buy a coffee. You had agreed, of course, and had assured him more than once that it didn’t matter that he’s your boss. You want him, and you have for ages.

On the fourth day, just this morning, he had held you a little tighter when he woke up and rumbled, “Morning, baby,” against your ear. If he hadn’t felt your heart beating around in your chest before, he had certainly felt it then.

Despite the fact that you’ve got a date planned with the man you’ve been cuddling for the better part of a week, you’re ready to tease Emily for cuddling JJ, before Spencer chimes in.

“I thought that the beds were quite comfortable, also. According to Sheriff McCartney, they’re primarily a transit town, which runs on a completely different economic structure than a transit village. The economy depends on truckers and people on road trips or similar travel to sleep in their hotels and eat at their restaurants,” he explains. “It’s fascinating, actually; transit towns pour the majority of their resources into making sure travellers making one-night stays enjoy themselves enough that they take the same route on the way home, thus giving the town more business.”

“The only business I want from that town is the name of whoever supplies those blankets,” Derek says, grinning. “That thing was so heavy, it was like getting crushed to sleep. Exactly what I needed with all that cool air blowing in.”

“Your room wasn’t too hot?” You ask, your nose scrunching up. “I think the heat was broken in mine. It was just hot air the whole time, every night. Way too hot to sleep.”

“Ours was like that on the first night,” JJ recalls, and Emily nods in agreement. “It was awful.”

“Right?” You complain, sinking further down into your seat. Hotch is sitting to your right, his face an impassive mask while he watches the exchange. “Let me guess, you guys shared a… uh…” 

Your teasing falters when the look on both JJ's and Emily’s faces tells you that, no, they did not share a bed, and you’ve just implied your solution to the heater problem. “We used the other blankets,” Emily says slowly, her eyes narrowing. “Didn’t you?”

“Oh! Oh, the other blankets. Yeah, the ones in the nightstand.” You nod along, your mortification growing in time with JJ’s smirk.

“They were in the closet,” she corrects you, obviously trying not to laugh. “I guess we know how you and Hotch stayed warm.”

You don’t need to look at your boss’- boss? Friend? Lover? You aren’t too sure right now- face to know that his cheeks are dusted rosy pink. “It wasn’t like that,” you protest to deaf ears as Derek whoops and high-fives Emily.

“About time,” he snickers at the look on your face. “So, when’s the first date?”

“It’s not-” you start to say, but Hotch speaks before you can.

“Friday.”

Your eyes widen and you turn to him. He raises one shoulder and smiles, like What was I supposed to say? “Friday,” you relent a moment later.

Derek is still grinning ear to ear like a maniac, and even Spencer cracks a smile when Aaron snakes one arm slowly around your waist. The sun is rising on one side of the jet, and the orange glow illuminates his face.

For one suspended moment, everything is perfect. You’ve got a date for this Friday, you’re more well-rested than you’ve felt in ages, and your team doesn’t seem to care that you and your boss are much closer than you were a couple of weeks ago. It’s a blissful moment to you, and it’s only broken by Emily’s gleeful not-quite-a whisper to JJ. “Penelope is going to be pissed that she missed this.”

Fluffy Feb masterlist | < Prev Day | Next Day >

Fluffy Feb tags: @doctorsteths-fluffyfeb @iammirrorball @hausofwhores @allthefandomstogether @myweepingangel @hotched @spacecowboyhotch @chibsytelford @honeybrowne @formulapierre @nd264 @hotchnerxnegan1017 (send me a dm or ask to be tagged!)

[aizawife]

Caught in Your Web

Requested: Getting together with Mirko.

Summary: Everyone knew Redback, barely anyone saw Kenji — except for Mirko, who saw the spider, its web, and its prey.

Word Count: 4622

Prompt Notes: Mirko x Spider-Man OC! Specific to the OC, written with a male reader in mind.

Author Notes: Good Lord, it has been a while! Sorry for taking so long with new content — I’ve had a lot on my plate the past few years with graduating uni (yay!) and moving on to med school. Even through it all, I never forgot about my love for both anime and writing, so here we are! Now, about this request…y’all. Huge shoutout to this requester !! This was not supposed to end up as long as it is (seriously, if you think you know how long this is, you really don't), but after talking to them about their OC and learning the backstory, I fell in love with them and ended up pouring so much into this. This is like a chapter worth of content, but I’m happy and so grateful I got to help deepen this character. I hope you all enjoy it (and share your OCs so I can write for them >.<); I'll be uploading some other stuff I wrote from before I went MIA soon, so look out for it! Welcome back <3

••●───── 🕸️⋅🕷⋅🕸️ ─────●••

“Wow, fourth one this week, huh?”

“Nah, that’s his sixth; keep up, man!”

It was a typical Thursday — well, as typical as it could be for anyone living in the Age of Heroes. As per usual, most people’s workday lunch break had now become a free all-inclusive ticket to a Spartan brawl between some Hero and any of the handful of villains propagated by the emergence of quirks. Today, the competitors in the ring happened to be two people of contrasting appearance: one small and fast, barely visible with both traits combined, while the other was almost comically large and consequently looking to be moving in slow motion with every movement.

Due to the fact that heroes and villains were always engaged in combat, it was ingrained in daily life, so most people just kept going about their usual routines. Regardless, any disturbance was disturbance, and onlookers gathered, a mixture of ordinary people and reporters vying to be the first with the exclusive story. 

The crowd watched as the swift Hero struck the hefty villain with pinpoint strikes as he dashed around at breakneck speed. Excited comments and whispers spread throughout the group of people as they watched the two fight, all curious to see who would win the epic battle between David and Goliath. But although the majority of competitors would have had serious expressions on their faces as they plotted their attacks and tried to read their opponents, the figure who was darting around appeared to be grinning broadly. With his smile, and the numerous taunts that erupted from his mouth, the sizable crowd observing became certain that it was the Vigilante Hero known as Redback.

“He’s really fighting to keep his No. 7 spot on the Hero list, isn’t he? Six villains in one week, that’s crazy.”

At the end of the block, the onlookers stared fixedly at the big brown behemoth as it feverishly swiped at itself. Redback moved so quickly around it that it seemed as though he was floating in the air, and with every dart around the enormous figure, his webbed cape flew around him. He sported a deep blue-tinted custom made suit that alternated between crimson and black. His calling card was a giant red spider insignia on his chest, which both villains and civilians recognized as a sign that justice was about to be served.

"Hasn't your mother ever told you to wipe your feet at the door? Look!" Redback delivered a straight punch to Dirt's face, tripping him backwards over his own two feet. With the Hero’s brutal strike, masses of dirt flew off of his body. "You're tracking dirt all over the place!" 

The audience watched as the brown giant staggered through the street, still trying to recover from the last hit. Now that it was closer, it was more visibly the plain outline of a man covered in crumbling earthy dirt. It grumbled as its big feet slapped the ground, launching specs of dirt into the air with each stride. 

Despite finding enjoyment in his battle just seconds before, panic swept across the audience as he looked to be approaching them. One of the commentators grew nervous and turned to his friend. "Dude…"

His friend instantly smacked his shoulder and raised a finger to his lips. "Shh! Don't make a sound!"

Thus, the two guys, as well as the rest of the crowd, stood there, one man quivering with fear and the other paralyzed with shock, watching as a gigantic brown foot kept stomping down the street. As the dirt monster came closer down the block, their bodies trembled from the sheer weight of his feet colliding with the earth, causing thundering steps to bounce around and ricochet off their bones. All they could do was watch as their fate approached, knowing that civilians were in no position to take on such villains, whether they had Quirks or not.

Suddenly, they heard something whizzing over them. Their eyes tried to track the shadowy figure that moved above them, but it was futile; his four limbs possessed the strength, dexterity, and speed of eight. But as they looked back down the street, they noticed a shimmering pattern. There were dozens of thin, tiny, glittering strings in front of them, and where they met, they resembled raindrops frozen in place, twinkling as though someone had taken each droplet and glued it so that the sun could dance across them. 

Upon completing his web-making and landing out of sight, Redback watched as the dirt creature charged up the street and stumbled right into the crystalline net in front of him, almost breaking through the wall of webbing. However, as expected, the strong webs simply absorbed Dirt's pressing force and pushed it back into him, causing him to become entangled and collapse, all nearby objects within a twenty-foot zone shaking as he crashed to the ground.

“Arghh!” He cried out, grumbling following suit as he struggled to get up. But before he could get off his knee, Redback descended from above and landed on his back.

In a swift motion, Redback lifted Dirt’s right arm in the air. He whiffed the air before saying, “You need a shower, dude — bad.” Then, he pushed the arm towards the left side of his torso while throwing his own body weight in the same direction. From a mix between the motion and Redback’s sheer strength alone, Dirt flipped over entirely, causing his chest to be exposed. Redback pinned him to the ground effortlessly, his knee pressing into Dirt's chest as he still struggled to break free from the webs. "Looks like I've got you right where I want you," Redback taunted with a smirk. 

He swung his head down towards Dirt's chest in an instant, releasing his chelicerae from his jaw. His fangs emerged from the basal section and swung out at their prey. He was aware that the feeling of them piercing his victim's skin would be no more agonizing than that of two tiny needles; but these tiny needles weren't entirely harmless, as they could easily pierce the skin before pumping neurotoxin out of their poison ducts.

As soon as they did, Dirt released a deep groan before attempting to pull Redback off of him, but his attempt was simply that - an attempt. His arm reached up, but soon went limp and fell back down with a thud. Dirt winced as the venom seeped further into his bloodstream, causing his muscles to weaken and his vision to blur before fading to black. 

Redback leaned in close, muttering, "You should've known better than to challenge me."

He leaned back with a triumphant grin, watching as Dirt's body went still. Once he got confirmation that paralysis was taking over his body, he retracted his fangs and quickly pulled his mask back down over his mouth. He jumped down, landing right in front of the large group of spectators, with the majority of them sprinting forward, a combination of congrats and whispers of awe taking over them.

“Redback, you’re so cool!” 

“What a hero.”

“Hey, Redback!” He glanced down at the youngster holding out a blue cap and permanent marker. The scar under his cheek and bruised knuckles stuck out to him. “Can you sign my hat?” Before he knew it, his observations had compelled him to fulfill the request.

“Sure, kid. Don’t lose it.” He grabbed the marker, scribbling his signature with a steady hand. Once he placed the hat back on the kid’s head, a recorder was thrust in his face.

“Redback, can you answer some questions for us?” The reporter's voice cut through the excited chatter of the crowd, drawing all attention to him.

Redback took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the questions that were about to come his way. ‘Interviewers…typical.’ It wasn't that he disliked them, they just all seemed to enjoy picking out bits and pieces from each response and spinning them into a mainly fictitious tale for profit, fame, and undeserved glory.

“We know about your dedication to restoring society’s order for not only civilians, but also Heroes and our judicial system. How do you plan on going about that? Was this villain a part of your efforts? How does he play into your mission?”

Just as he was about to answer, a loud pinging sound rang out. He traced the sounds down to his watch, where he noticed the alert:

[15:00 — XXX BUILDING]

He smiled as he was reminded of the meeting he scheduled – it was perfect timing. With a wave of his hand, he announced, “Sorry, folks, gotta run! Stay safe!”

“Wait!” He turned around to see another interviewer. “What about, um…him?”

He followed the gaze of the crowd to Dirt's limp body, then shrugged. Although he wasn't always confident that the police would carry out their duties to the best of their abilities—which was why he decided to administer justice himself—he was certain that their interests would coincide when it came to a minor threat such as Dirt. 

“The authorities are on their way.” At their concerned faces, he added over his shoulder, “Besides, he’s not going anywhere. Paralysis lasts for the next couple hours!” 

With that, he took off, a few strands of webbing ejecting from his hand and latching to the edge of a small building. He leaped up, the webbing propelling him upward and into the air, where he began gliding and swinging with his webs as if they were white vines in a jungle of skyscrapers. The city beneath him appeared to diminish as he soared higher, the wind roaring past his ears. 

His thoughts wandered as he swung between rooftops, hardly staying on one long enough before moving on to the next.

‘Redback…what a stupid name.’

When the name Redback was assigned to him, he didn’t reject it, as he didn’t expect to hear other people calling him it all the time. But, then again, he truthfully hadn’t expected to become the hero he was now known as. In fact, before he became known as the vigilante hero he was, he used to be the one causing the trouble. Petty crimes, but still, he used to wreak havoc more than he prevented it. 

He sat off the side of a building, his web supporting him as he ceased swinging. He was gazing at the sun sinking beyond the horizon, his webbed cape billowing in the breeze.

‘Kenji O’Hara.’

That was the name he was given at birth. Beyond that name held nothing. 

And then there was Redback.

Redback was the name he earned. The brutal man with nothing to lose and nothing holding him back. The man whose origins could be traced to the Underground Masquerade, an illicit fighting ring in a covert car park. The man whose Spider Quirk bestowed upon him such freakishly powerful abilities that most saw an opportunity for exploitation rather than allyship. The man who, in a foolish adolescent moment, branded a large symbol of a spider on his back—a mistake that, when exposed in the middle of a fight, gave rise to the grimly gallant fighter. This man's reputation preceded him wherever he went, striking fear into the hearts of his opponents.

Everyone knew Redback, barely anyone saw Kenji.

He took a few steps upon landing on the XXX Building before resting on the railing. From this vantage point, you could see the beauty of the city and catch a glimpse of the peace that comes from the hustle and bustle of city life. The idea that such tranquility could be found in the midst of such mayhem gave him comfort. Cars slickly skimming the streets, little specks strolling to the train station. There were no people, no heroes, and no villains from up here. It was simply a city, and everybody was one.

“O’Hara.”

Turning around, he saw her hallmark tall bunny ears. Their massive presence overshadowed her, bestowing upon her an air of innocence mixed with authority. Her grin sent the same message—it was kind yet commanding. As if he had never noticed it before, her skin caught his attention next. It was a delicate bronze that, in the sunset, seemed to have the hue of a highly prized and lovingly preserved gold coin. And, of course, this wasn’t his first time seeing her Hero costume, but the white sleeveless leotard that showed off her hauntingly impressive muscles never failed to entice him.

After a few seconds of observation and appreciation, he decided to return the favor of her casual greeting. “Usagiyama.”

“Don’t web your shorts looking,” Mirko joked as she sauntered over to him, her knee-length white hair swaying with each step. “But I am impressed – you’re on time.” She slid in the space next to him, her back against the railing as she faced the opposite direction. Her triceps flexed as she rested her elbows on it. “I thought you’d be late, especially after seeing your work.” At his raised brow, she added, “Dirt monster.”

He chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “Ohhh, dirt boy. Yeah,” he grinned, “I handled that. And don't worry; I'll always be on time for you.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Good to know," she replied, stretching her legs out in front of her as she grew more comfortable. "Just don't let that dirt guy slow you down next time." 

Kenji was acquainted with Mirko from prior Hero events. Being the fifth-ranked Hero, she was there for both award ceremonies and simple accolades; being No. 7 himself, he was also there, his unwavering attention fixed on the most attractive and self-assured lady in the room, perhaps one characteristic enhancing the other.

"Slow me down, eh? You think I can be slowed down?" As he carried on, she lightly exhaled and rolled her eyes. She knew what he was going to say next. "Or is that the fear of losing your rank to me talking?"

She snorted at his competitive spirit, unfazed by his attempt to intimidate and stir her up. "You've been saying you'll take my spot for weeks now; aren't you tired of your wishes not coming true?" At the wave of his hand, she leaned in close to him with a playful glint in her eye. "Actions speak louder than words, darling," she challenged.

"Which makes me curious as to why you have that No. 5 spot to begin with."

As they both hummed off their playful retorts, the conversation died down. Suddenly, it felt as if a chilly wind passed through, and Kenji awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. Despite sharing the same characteristics of a rabbit, a prey animal, Mirko seemed to have the abilities of a predator — she could sense fear. It worried him, asking about it, but if he didn’t, she would sense that there was something he was afraid to ask, and she would find out and press him about it anyway.

He took a long breath, bracing himself for the question that had been plaguing him; already, at the change in behavior, she raised her brow. "Did you, uh…did you get the flowers?"

Besides the wind whistling and the little noises from urban life, there was not a sound to be heard between the two. Mirko's piercing stare seemed to see right through Kenji, making him even more anxious as the question hung in the air, awaiting her response. 

He wasn’t quite sure what he was so nervous about – they had been on a couple of dates already. Kenji, who had lived his entire life fearlessly, had no trouble approaching Mirko at the aforementioned events, chatting her up and praising her on her successes before going in for the kill with a simple date proposal. In all honesty, he didn't expect her to arrive, but when she did, they hit it off just as well as before, and the rest was history. The first date had been cut short by a tiny gang of petty terrorists, but there seemed to be nothing better for Kenji and Mirko to connect over than kicking ass. Following that, dates continued amongst the usual turmoil that came with hero life, and they grew a foundationally sound friendship.

A Hero of Kenji's caliber was not familiar with the feeling of anxiety; however, he felt as though his heart would burst. That was, until she gave him a kind smile. She seemed to enjoy seeing him stress, even if just for a few minutes. "I did."

"Bold move sending a rabbit some flowers"—she turned to face him, a wider grin on her lips—"but that is what I like about you."

Kenji chuckled, relieved that she appreciated his gesture. “So, are you anywhere close to being ready yet?” He didn’t mean to rush her, but he knew she would correct him if she felt a boundary was being pushed. As ironic as it was, the only thing keeping them from taking the next step was the very thing that had brought them together in the first place.

"C'mon, O'Hara," she murmured, transferring her weight from one pawed foot to the next while looking straight ahead. "You know my rule."

“Right, the rule.”

She chuckled at his grimace, but it quickly got silent again as both Heroes fell into deep thought.

When Kenji first proposed that they become an official couple, Mirko froze. It was actually the only time he had ever seen her confidence waiver, and it was the first time she explained the rule.

‘No attachments, no hardcore relationships. Not while I’m a Hero.’

It was a good rule, except for the fact that anyone who knew Mirko knew that she would be a Hero until her body was physically incapable of fighting, and everyone knew that would be when she was dead.

When she first told Kenji about it, he didn't take it too hard. They had only gone out a few times in the past five months, so being the confident man he was, he didn't see much harm in continuing a casual relationship. When he was ready to get serious, he would eventually find someone who shared her beauty, personality, and sense of humor, at which point he would just move on.

That was what he told himself at first, until he ventured out into the dating scene and returned to the one butterfly among flies forever caught in his web. 

The pill he had to swallow at that point was not particularly difficult, but it was one he hadn't previously acknowledged as existing. Nobody shared Mirko's drive. Nobody possessed her energy, her spirit, and most importantly, her passion. She was the only Hero in the world who matched, if not exceeded the gratification he received from reading his opponent, delivering blow after blow, and emerging victorious. 

And, of course, the thing that attracted him most and kept him trapped in her web – no one matched her confidence.

The one recurring thread in most of Kenji’s failed dates was the one perception he had tried to get away from. The explanation given by almost every girl that walked away was that he was just too intimidating. Sometimes it was his appearance; to be fair, being a tall, well-built guy with a deathly aura designed to scare off any assailant didn’t come in handy all the time. Sometimes it was his jokes – most people were offended by them, while others simply couldn't match his sense of humor. But some had offered to divulge further, claiming that they sensed a wall up that they knew he would not allow them over. Whether it was his physical state or his mental one, among all complaints, he always seemed to be too much.

But for a girl who found the word ‘challenge’ simply did not exist in her vocabulary, as she had never encountered one, Kenji O’Hara’s walls were akin to stepping stones that forged a path to a person with deeper experiences and emotions than most normally have. Whether they saw it as beneficial or detrimental, both had grown up fighting and sparking up trouble, and Mirko, given her status, found it difficult to connect with anybody who understood her past and present behaviors. But when she told Kenji of her experiences, he did the one thing most failed to do – he listened. There was no excessive questioning or feedback, and although Mirko generally preferred people speaking their mind with confidence, she respected his undivided attention as his version of a bold statement. Despite his experience matching hers to a tee, having both come from the Underground Masquerade, the fact that the ‘intimidating’ Redback had the capacity for empathy and support was what stuck with her the most.

“I understand, take all the time you need.”

Unfortunately, that was where her problems started.

Behind the aura he had built up to protect himself, Kenji was a caring jokester with a confidence that seemed to inspire even the most insecure people. Even though it was naive to believe, he appeared to be without flaw. So, if she indulged and pursued a long-term relationship with him, she would do all in her power to assure that it was secure, all because of the man underneath that mask. This was the precise reason she was hesitant to start a relationship with him.

Throughout her life, Mirko always had to choose one or the other. Similarly, when she chose to be a Hero, she gave up all else. The battle and its outcome always came first; even if it meant her body, she would sacrifice it for the fight. Yes, that was the duty that came along with the title, but she had always been that way, even as a combative delinquent. So, upon her ultimate transformation into a Hero, she knew she had to establish a self-rule, something that would make sure she remembered the choice she had made for the rest of her life.

‘No attachments, no hardcore relationships. Not while I’m a Hero.’

If there ever happened to be anyone who managed to slink between the trees and brush and make their way to the clearing that was her heart, she knew she would eventually be forced into another choice. So with that rule in place, becoming a Hero was the last life-altering choice she would make.

“But didn’t you say you’d live every day like it was your last?” 

At O'Hara's question, her eyes widened. This wasn’t Kenji’s first time challenging her, but for some reason, this time threw her off. She slowly nodded, “I-I did. I do, but-”

His hand caught hers, fingers weaving with such delicacy that she almost didn’t believe that Redback and Kenji were the same man. The sincerity in his eyes spoke more to her than his words as he asked, “Then why stop now? Live everyday with me like it’s your last too.”

Thinking of such a possibility made her breath catch in her throat. Breaking her own rule and possibly jeopardizing her Hero career by pursuing something as selfish as a relationship sounded like a no-brainer to her. However, in regards to someone as special as Kenji...

She quickly caught herself, shaking off that small fear of diving in, and shook her hand free from his, taking a few steps back. “Woah, don’t tell me you’re getting all soft on me now, O’Hara.” 

Mirko sighed, his only answer to her jest being a stare. He was serious, and when Kenji was serious, he meant it. With her back to him, she crossed her arms and closed her eyes in thought. "I've already made my final choice. You know that I'm done picking between 'this' and 'that'; I can't have it be 'this', 'that', or you."

With this, she was confident that he would back down and accept her decision. She knew Kenji would be disappointed; hell, it disappointed her too, but she knew in any out-firming contest, she would be firm enough to keep him at bay.

But Kenji was fast approaching, dancing through her trees, heading straight for her clearing. 

"Make it 'this' and me, or 'that' and me, because that's all it'll ever be." And all of a sudden, Mirko discovered that he had overcome each obstacle designed to prevent him from breaking through her own barriers and reaching her heart, and was now standing in the center of her clearing. "I'm not going anywhere."

When she opened her eyes, he was standing in front of her. His face was so unbelievably close to hers, his masked nose resting against her own. "I don't care if it takes you eight days, eight years, or eight lifetimes. I will always be here." His unwavering commitment to her rendered her dumbfounded, and before she knew it, she had reached by his side, grabbing his hand with fingers as soft as rabbit paws.

“I just don’t want to mess things up,” she whispered. 

Kenji put his other arm around her waist protectively, softly pressing her against him in a moment of vulnerability he was certain he would never see from her again. Even though she wasn't in a physical altercation, being brazen or aggressive, he still cherished the transparency that came along with her confidence. It was just this—her shameless acceptance to vulnerability and her newfound openness to failure—that drew him in even more.

He moved his covered lips against her ear to whisper, “You’ll never lose your No. 5 spot.”

With those words, he promised, in his own unique way, that he would never be one of her options, and they stood there in silence as they both indulged in the newly discovered sense of belonging.

“Y’know, except for when I surpass you.” 

He was met with a hard push to his chest, sending him back a few steps. “What? Being No. 7 is getting boring,” he laughed.

Through her own smile, Mirko replied, “You’ll have to catch up to me first, O’Hara.”

They embraced again, Kenji clutching his new partner in justice. Gentle fingers grazed the ends of his mask as she reached up to raise it and reveal his lips. They locked eyes and drank in the intensity of the moment before leaning in, their lips—

Both of their heads whipped to the side as the sound of a loud explosion erupted, grey smoke emitting from an intersection a few blocks away.

“Ah, duty calls.” Glancing back down at her, Kenji's smile appeared to be permanently stuck as he realized he had finally caught the girl he had been chasing for months. “So, ‘this’ with me or ‘that’ with me?”

She looked to the side one more time before returning her gaze to Kenji. She loved being in his arms, and wouldn’t have minded letting another Hero take care of things, but Mirko had met her equal in experience and in valor, and she knew there was no one else she would want to fight beside. 

"‘That’ with you.”

"Alright, you're on!" Kenji raced away from her, leaping off the roof. The following second, she noticed him land on a nearby rooftop before flipping in the air to the next.

Mirko did not hesitate to take up the challenge. She immediately hopped over, already utilizing her Rabbit Quirk to narrow the gap and pass him. "See you there, loser!"

Although Kenji knew she’d push herself to leave him in the dust and get there first, he didn’t quite care to do the same. In fact, for once, this was a battle he didn’t mind losing. He looked over to her again, his eyes tracing her every movement as she raced between buildings and streets. 

For some reason, he felt as if he already won.

••●───── 🕸️⋅🕷⋅🕸️ ─────●••

[transpersian]

Deep Cover

(copied from my twitter thread)

Alright. I got my unhinged time. Back to being regulated and strategic.

Apologies for my manic state over the past couple of days. For the past 2.5 months, I leaned into my most subservient, self-hating, self-blaming state from my past to make her feel in control.

It broke me.

I’m not here to hash out my history of trauma, but let’s just say I’m used to being in survival mode. I let the part of me that still felt for her grow like a weed, trying to carefully prune it so it didn’t overtake everything else. I gave her that power with careful limits.

The guilt I felt was real; I don’t want to do this. I want her to stop. But until she does, it’s necessary.

Alongside my love, the dissonance of guilt led to many, many breakdowns. I have friends who sat with me for hours in those calls as I lamented what Poppy could have been.

Add the additional stress of my strained trust and relationships with friends, including a half dozen that cut ties completely.

Add the viciousness people constantly spit at me anonymously on Tumblr.

Add my whole-ass personal life, which is its own nightmare of complications.

This has been hard, especially because I didn’t expect it to last more than two weeks. Especially when Poppy genuinely started to trust me. Defend me against her friends. Against Zena.

She promised she wouldn’t abandon me again and she didn’t. That’s particularly potent w/ BPD.

I still handled things.

Part of me worried that if she offered to run away from all this with me, I would’ve been tempted. People would finally be safe from her and I’d be in the toxic relationship of my nightmares.

But my principles kept me true. My love for Hela kept me true.

To help keep those feelings in check, I’d regularly read back through the documentation I was still working on. Especially Spawn’s screenshots.

I’ve literally worked myself to tears dozens of times to keep focus on what I’m fighting for.

Was this healthy? Nah.

But it worked.

I don’t need everyone to agree with what I did, or how. I just hope everyone at least sees that it’s not something I just do casually. This was a dark art, learned from many years of surviving people like PZ. I had to break this shit out like John Wick’s buried stash.

I was deeply uncomfortable with how good I was at it. I started to feel bad about it a few weeks in. I used that guilt to feed into my facade. The lines began to blur more and more.

I wasn’t going to betray my people, but I started to lose it for a while. Actual derealization.

I did accomplish useful things in there, but I can’t share them for fear of endangering them. Just know that I’d do it all over again. It was worth it.

I have a wonderful support network. Beyond just trauma bonding, I love these people. I trust them with my life.

But that last push, that desperate series of attempts to get Poppy to accept even one tiny bit of responsibility… that broke me.

Her saying that my love for her wasn’t real unless I betrayed my friends? That hurt. Telling her that she’d destroyed me and her “I don’t care?” God.

I leaned into the crazy on that last conversation because, frankly, I wanted to. I wanted to let all of the rage and fury and madness that I’d felt over all of this out.

Not just what she’d done to me. Everyone. Dozens.

And it felt good, y’all. It felt good to get theatrical.

So when I finally came out of it… that energy carried over.

I became the crazy ex-girlfriend they said I was, just for a bit. My strikes were still pointed, but yeah, I dove into the vibe.

Sorry about that.

It’ll take time to heal properly, but I’ll be okay. Survived worse.

Point being, I just wanted to make a statement discussing my recent behavior. I’m not proud of it, but I don’t regret it.

I’ve been so controlled with my emotions about all of this for so long. Please forgive me this indulgence.

I went under right before people started finally listening. It was kind of intoxicating to say things publicly and finally get so much support and visibility.

But if I’m going to continue being a prominent voice in this whole debacle, I need to be better, and I will be.

I am.

So… back to work. Back to healing.

Thank you for trusting me. It means the world.

It’s so fucking good to be back. 💜

[softspiderling]

tucked in bed, completely knocked out after spending the whole day at disney. i just uploaded the masterlist for illicit affairs!!! im so glad that pt. two of illicit affairs is already finished (gonna read it over again tomorrow before posting) otherwise it wouldn’t be up this week bc this week has truly been crazy.

i also feel like i’ve been totally mia these past few days so i’m super sorry :(((

i miss all of y’all 🩵

[munsonsgirl71]

Hi! Hi! Hi! I am soooooo sorry I have been so MIA these past few weeks. Life has been a little rough and work has been CRAZY busy. I’m going to try to better about popping in and checking on you guys cause I miss y’all!

Now… with that being said! I am heading to FanExpo this weekend to meet our lovely little gremlin man and I’m going alone which is scary… so if you are also going (or know someone who is) I would LOVE to meet you, maybe hangout a little. I’ll be there Saturday and Sunday. Truth be told I am TERRIFIED and already have the nervous tummy flips and it’s THURSDAY! By Saturday I’m going to be a complete wreck. 😬 Help.

[ifnotthislife-thenthenext]

You know what’s crazy the Ryan Corr fandom has been living off of crumbs cause that man is a ghost!! Meanwhile Pedro Pascal has pics and interviews for days. Why can’t we have the same content for Ryan I know that man is FUNNY!! Petition for Ryan to do more photoshoots. He needs Pedros’s PR manager and agent. // Girl do not fool yourself it's only because pedro has events to do this week that we're even getting any content when he goes back home we're going to have a dry spell all over again.

True true you right!! These dry spells are a crime!! But y’all def have more past content than Ryan does he has like 2.5 interviews and barely any press pics. Pedro has quite a few! I’ll be eating for bit!

[mamasanctuary]

Grateful Day 11.26.22

Super late posting but I’ve been dealing with one life event after the other. My sister ended up hosting on Thursday which meant I could relax and take my time cooking Friday/Saturday instead of rushing around like a crazy person. It went well but also started some family drama being that none of the usual guests were invited. For our sanity’s sake, of course. I thought it would be dropped and we could all move on but we can’t. Yeah family. So anyway I finally had the spare time to get on here and just blog how I’ve been wanting to. And let me tell y’all.

I’ve Got Some News.

First, I want to start of by thanking everyone who supports me here. Especially those of you who have been here from the beginning. It means a lot to me that my blog has been an inspiration or even a safe place for some of you on your parenting journey. I know it’s got more personal and less *advice-y/* over the years but I’m leaning towards that direction, with a little twist. 

  I know I’ve made a lot promises over the past few months, regarding consistency, and while I feel awful about it I also realize I set myself up for failure. I don’t thrive off of hard schedules and so I’ve opened myself up to simply offering one post a week at any time during the week. Do you know how many times I’ve gotten on here to post but realized it wasn’t Sunday so I put off preparing a post and then it stayed in my drafts? A lot. I want to be able to share authentically and take breaks as needed without the pressure of only being able to post on my one day a week. 

  Additionally, I’ll make one post purely for advice and questions I’ve gotten over the past several months. You all have sent me 100s of questions/calls for advice that have gone unanswered so I want to take the time and support those who have been supporting me. That particular post will be released on a consistent date because the questions have already piled up. You can look forward to my advice column on Fridays at 3pm. 

With all of that out of the way...

I’ve been super busy prepping for baby#4 these past few weeks. Not so much with actual baby stuff, but with spending a lot of time with me “big” babies in preparation for being secluded with a newborn for, at least, 3 months. The amount of stares and unsolicited “You should be resting” I’ve gotten has increased since I’m the size of a whale at this point, but I truly live for my little outings with my little ones. As I approach my due date, I realize I have an unwavering fear about developing PPD so I think I’m forcing myself to be happy and busy so I don’t think about it. Ah well, as is life. 

The kiddos are doing well and rushing this baby out. Thalia is homeschooling well with me and we’ve decided to take that route for as long as it’s comfortable for us all. It’s definitely been experience and I’m a former teacher! Solomon and Zoe like to join in but often end up convincing me that Thalia needs a break and will rescu- I mean kidnap her from me and run outside. We’ve been taking it day by day and they’re all growing so fast as I’m sure you can see in the photo. They’ve been praying for the baby every night and have asked me multiple times if I could “grab baby out” which has been fun to explain to a two toddlers and a 5 year old. 

Our little family is growing and thriving as best as it can and I hope yours is too. This year has been hard enough with all the nonsense going on in this world so I hope you’re taking the time to care for yourself.

Until next time, 

[skinimini80]

I’ve been out of control for like 3 weeks now so uh let me just tell yall my current situation.

Day before yesterday, restricted cals, woke up 115.8 next day.

(3.6 lbs gained in these past few weeks :( but not terrible.)

Yesterday, binge but didn’t purge a damn thing! Proud of that. Also proud I carefully tracked while binging.

I ate 3213 cals.

That’s 2013 extra cals if we are going off of a 1200 cal limit, though ideally I want my limit to be lower, rn I’m clearly just not ready for that.

So, today I’m just not okay with the idea of accepting more weight gain and setting the slate clear.

This has left me with three options that make me feel okay.

1. Liquid fast. I’d say fast but I do indulge in an energy drink or two per day. I also drink Gatorade for electrolytes. Obviously I go for sugar free stuff so it’s not high calorie by any means and I end up with a cal count below 100. This means I can quickly knock off 1100 cals in one day.

Pros: I feel safest when I’m not eating

I don’t waste money on food

It’s less destructive in terms of my health

Cons: can make me feel like I’m wasting my day staring at the clock

Makes me a little depressed

Difficult as I haven’t liquid fasted for more than 22 hours in months

Hard to focus on other tasks at first

Hard to sleep

2. Omad a meal that’s below 500 calories

Pros: i easily get rid of 700 cals

Gives me something to look forward to within the day

Helps me sleep

Saves money

Prevents me from entering the water weight drop trap where I stop eating and keeping food down entirely

Cons: difficult

Makes me feel depressed when I do eat something

Tempting to eat more than 500 cause I waited all day, aka could trigger a binge

3. B/p my day away

Pros: I drop water weight fast, good for morale

I have fun and the day passes quickly

Get sick of food

Definitely in a deficit if I don’t eat anything outside of b/p

Cons: fattest waste of money

Stresses me out beyond belief

Easy to justify a safe meal after to stop the shaking

DANGEROUS IN LONG AND SHORT TERM

Too much focus on the water weight drop

No way of knowing how many cals I actually end up in taking, making it so that I only feel comfortable fasting and purging for the foreseeable future, which is miserable

Toilet sucks in my apartment, terrified I’ll break it (I’ve had too many close calls) but I also do NOT want to deal with puke bags

Clean up sucks and if I don’t do it well enough I get bugs

Break my whopping two day streak

Have to weigh myself first, and see a probably higher than normal number (I didn’t weigh myself this morning)

Yeah so idk what I’ll end up doing, but I’m trying to fast rn. It’s so hard to exist like this lmao but I am DONE with this random little stint of weight gain. Idk if you can tell but this post is partially a way for me to distract myself from eating LOL.

Crazy how the purge list of cons is so massive and yet it’s the most tempting

If y’all can give me things to do like for fun or whatever feel free to comment

It’s only 12:37 pm, I’ve got a dayyyyy ahead of me.