#and would love a good sample size because everyone in my house does it a different way

[patrickztump]

yeah yeah reblog for bigger sample size, but also to share what your most recent addition is <3

[paradisetemporarilymisplaced]

So I was being a basic bitch the other day and listening to my true crime podcasts when it occurred to me just how suspicious Nile’s “death” would look to everyone not in the Guard, leading me to a train of thought that, 2200 words later, absolutely got away from me but I can’t let go so I’m inflicting it on all of you!

To set the stage, we know the movie takes place over approximately a week. Here’s what happens to Nile from the military’s point of view:

She dies is very seriously injured

She heals without a scratch

Just before she’s supposed to be shipped out to Germany, she vanishes, leaving two men concussed (and presumably reporting being knocked out by a woman with short hair wearing civilian clothes)

She goes AWOL for several days

They get word from the CIA that she is to be reported killed in action (details unclear)

So, at the beginning of this very weird week, the USMC has to tell Nile’s family of her death critical injury. What her family was told depends on how long she was dead – a Google search tells me that family will be notified in person within 8 hours of a soldier’s death, but we don’t know how long her first death lasted. For an injury, however, they’d get a phone call to notify them and the unit would arrange for them to visit as soon as the soldier is transferred out of a combat zone. Like I remember when I was in high school, a guy from my church who was a Marine was really seriously injured in a helicopter crash in Iraq and from what I could tell, his parents were told immediately and were flown out to Germany to see him, so it stands to reason that Nile’s family would have been informed relatively quickly after her throat was slashed, one way or another.

And then, she goes AWOL. Her family would be notified while the USMC tried to figure out where she went, not least because the military would want to know if she’s contacted them. (And it’s possible that her family may have been on the way to Germany to see her since we know that’s where she was supposed to go!) So for several days:

Nile’s mom and brother have no idea where she is

They know she was seriously injured and most certainly should not have been moving around on her own

They can’t get a hold of her

The military can’t tell them anything

And the next thing they know for sure is that she was “killed in action.” After being injured and vanishing into thin air. And they presumably cannot produce her body or any concrete evidence of her death. In any case, something sketchy is going on, so they’re like. SMELLS LIKE A MILITARY COVERUP.

In a surprise to probably no one, there is a well-documented legacy of mysterious US military deaths, particularly of women of color (TW for sexual assault in these links). The cases of LaVena Johnson and Vanessa Guillenin particular have made national news because of their families’ persistence in seeking justice. Likewise, Nile is a Black woman, and her mom and brother are most certainly hypercognizant of (a) state violence against Black people and (b) these high-profile cases of suspicious military deaths. So her family are seriously side-eyeing the situation, knowing that (a) the military has a serious incentive (and a documented history) of covering up things that make them look bad and (b) nothing about Nile’s disappearance and supposed death are adding up.

And Andy’s right. Nile does come from warriors. And you know who else does? Her brother.

Don’t get me wrong. Nile’s mom would absolutely not back down. She’d know something was up and want to get to the bottom of it. But based on what I know about Gen X parents (mine), they’re not the most technologically savvy. Like they can use the internet, but they didn’t grow up with it the way we young millennials and Gen Z did. So Nile’s brother takes the lead. And what do zillennials do best?

Social media.

Nile’s brother starts going hard on any site he can, trying to get the word out to see if anyone knows what happened to his sister. He starts a Reddit thread. He starts a Facebook group. He reaches out to the media and true crime bloggers and podcasters à la Sarah Turney, getting loud and being a general nuisance in hopes of getting some answers. He gets his friends and Nile’s friends involved. Maybe eventually Dizzy, Jay, and others from Nile’s unit hear about it and reach out, telling him what they saw and how weird it all was. He’s drumming up interest, and soon “Nile Freeman” becomes a household name (at least among the true crime fans).

Copley is, of course, trying his best, but at this point there is just so much that it’s impossible for him to scrub everything. Sure, he can erase new footage of Nile and the Guard, but what can he do about Reddit threads and podcast episodes that are speculating something weird has happened? Maybe he could hack the sites and shut those things down, but honestly, that’s the last thing he’d want to do, because that only adds weight to the theory that Nile’s disappearance is a military coverup. So eventually he has to tell Andy what’s going on.

Andy, obviously, does not take the news well. However, she is also completely computer illiterate, because that’s Booker’s job and he’s the only one who ever bothered to learn what the internet is in any meaningful way. (She probably calls Booker for advice, and for the record, I think Booker would have no qualms about shutting down conspiracy threads, tinhats be damned, but Copley is too concerned about the consequences. He’s ex-CIA for crying out loud, he knows how it’ll look if they scrub every mention of Nile’s name from the internet.) Maybe she confers with Joe and Nicky but, let’s be honest, they’d be equally unhelpful. So at this point, she knows they have to bring in Nile.

But the thing about Nile is that she, too, knows how to use the internet (duh). Aside from her being a young millennial/digital native, we know from the cave scene where she’s giving Booker suggestions on how to track Copley that she clearly is even more computer savvy than the average person. And for that reason she almost definitely took over the day-to-day tech stuff after Booker’s exile. So I think it would be foolish to expect her to be unaware of what’s happening. She’s not contacting her family or posting on the message boards or anything, but she knows what’s up. So Copley and the team probably sit her down to “break the news,” but we know the girl does not have a poker face (see: literally shooting herself in the foot and not being able to play it cool whatsoever) and cracks immediately, telling them she’s seen everything about her case – she’s not interacting with any of it, she certainly didn’t instigate anything, but she knows. (And she is so goddamn proud of her brother.)

At this point, I’d like to pause and consider Nile’s role in the overall narrative of this movie. She’s set up as a foil to Andy, obviously, but she’s also a foil to Booker. Booker, who, like Andy, is a serious pessimist, but who, unlike Andy, still has very fresh memories and trauma associated with being the new kid, which have destroyed him. In his mind (and Andy’s), if Nile communicates with her family, she’ll become just like him in a century or two – bitter, alone, and stuck with her grief and memories of watching her family die and knowing they died resenting her. It’s a small sample size, but this is the only experience they have to go off of.

But it doesn’t have to be like that.

There’s been a lot of discussion of TOG being a fundamentally queer movie – a group of people brought together because of something inherent about themselves that is different, that must be hidden, that causes others to hate, fear, and reject them. Booker’s backstory is the archetypal traumatic “coming out” story – his family learns who he is, hate him for it, and attempt to cast him out of their lives. He’s stuck with his trauma, his pain, his loss, and it consumes him.

But what if Nile’s family would be the opposite? What if her “coming out” to them as immortal is met with acceptance, love, celebration? What if her family is just overjoyed to have her back, and they don’t care what the circumstances are? I'm reminded of this incredible post from @shitty-old-guard-deaths a while back, where Nile’s mother hits Booker with a frying pan because “my baby let me believe she was dead for FIVE YEARS based on your bad advice???” (which may or may not have inspired this whole tangent). Nile takes the advice of someone who did the same thing she wants to do because she doesn’t want to risk her family’s rejection. She wants the good memories with her family and is afraid that showing them her true self will bring her unbearable pain, forever replacing those memories. But, with high risk comes high reward.

Anyway. Nile and the team are trying to come up with a plan for how to handle this whole thing, but she’s not really participating because she’s too afraid to hope. Until finally, quickly, so she doesn’t lose her nerve, she suggests she reach out to them, knowing that, realistically, that’s the only solution before things snowball even further out of control. The team is shocked, but realize that she has a point. They decide that Copley should actually be the first point of contact, posing as a US government official to talk with them and test the waters.

So Copley goes to Nile’s family’s house to talk with her mom and brother. They’re probably distrustful and apprehensive, but nonetheless secretly ecstatic that their work has paid off. They talk and review all of the information that they’ve collected, including testimonials from the people on Nile’s base and recent sightings (along with photos) of Nile (with the same three people) over the last few years that people have sent them but they haven’t posted publicly. At this point, Copley’s like, yeah this is about to blow up, we gotta put our cards on the table. He convinces them to come with him to some safe house/black site/whatever he can get that is technologically impenetrable (I’m picturing them in like, an interrogation room at a police station kind of deal), takes their phones, locks the doors, and brings in Nile.

What follows is the most delightful reunion scene of all time, bringing Joe, Nicky, and even Andy to tears as they watch and listen from outside the room. With Copley’s help, Nile tells her mom and brother about her immortality and what’s been going on since she died (within reason, of course), and they are thrilled. They don’t understand why (because no one does) but they don’t question it and they see it as a gift from God – she’s been resurrected, she will live, and she has a purpose. Her mother and brother are so happy to see her again and are willing to agree with pretty much anything to stay in her life as long as they can.

So. They set up some complicated agreement (they bring in the other three for support/intimidation as needed) setting the terms of their relationship. They swear Nile’s family to secrecy, maybe bringing up the lab to show how high the stakes are, and they readily agree. They come up with some cover story for Nile’s brother to share on the message boards (maybe that the government has opened an investigation but because it’s an open case he has to shut it all down? Tells people to direct their tips somewhere else? Something to that effect). There’s still speculation, of course, but without Nile’s brother at the helm providing the energy, the hype dies down as news stories are wont to do without any movement. And Nile’s family goes to work for the team. The experience has taught them that Copley can’t possibly do everything himself, especially when it comes to social media, so Nile’s brother takes the lead on the day-to-day tracking/social media while Copley and her mom focus on finding jobs and scrubbing their traces afterward.

So there you have it: Nile gets to integrate her biological family into her found family and spend the rest of their lives with them as it should be, Copley gets some badly needed help managing the reality of social media, the team finally has a positive narrative surrounding outsiders Knowing About Them AND about interacting with people from their previous life, and the audience gets the happy ending to this very lovely and very queer story to counteract the pain associated with Booker’s family.

Plus, you know, I’m a sucker for both a good government conspiracy theory and for Nile getting every good thing she deserves.

[octania]

Dabi x Reader Headcanons (NSFW)

Halloween-ish edition / from Octy’s chocolate box for the anon

Warnings: NSFW, public sex, manipulation, teasing, orgasm control, food play, marking, daddy kink, spanking, somehow public oral sex.

You know when those perfectly carved Jack o’ lanterns glow with a smooth blue light, that Dabi is home. His flame takes over the candle’s dancing fire, marking his presence, warning you to be prepared when his shadow blends with the darkness of the unlit house.                              “You thought I would not know you are here, doll?” - his husky voice fills your ear canals, sending goosebumps down your skin. His warm tongue licks your bare shoulder, exposed because of the oversized jumper sliding down your arm. His soft muscle leave a trail of saliva glistering under the pale moonlight coming through the window. You whimper, his visits became more often, more needy, you know what he wants, and you know he will take it. You don’t resist, you know he poisoned your heart and soul from the first time he spoke to you. But now he is done wasting words on you, he did not came to talk, as his big palm shoves you on the wall.          “Let us see what kind of a cute costume you have under there...”            His firm chest pushing on your shoulder blades, while his calloused hands allow themselves to explore your body under your clothes. One under the jumper, other inside your longings. You squirm, only to be met by his pure raw power, as his flames start to first nibble on your clothes, then devour it whole. You scream on the warm sensation that rushed over your skin,leaving you in your sexy lace underwear. You hear a smirk coming from behind you, as he leans. His breath smelled like whiskey.                    “Daddy is pleased what his good girl has chosen.” - he grinds his throbbing bulge on your lower back, while his fingertips brush over you clothed clit very slowly, making the little nerv bud pulsate under his touch. “Now let me show you a trick, and I will take my treat.”

When the doorbell rings and trick or treaters stand impatiently to collect their prize, Dabi knows how to make the situation harder for you. You rush to the door, only to be met by his tensed biceps pressed against it. You can read on his face that this can only be bad for you.He orders you to slide your jeans and panties down, and open the door slightly, peeking out only with your upper part. You shake you head in disapproval. Mistake. He reaches for you, his thick fingers wrapping around your forearm, pulling you mercilessly to him and making you bend over. He grabs your jeans, with one fast and strong pull, breaking the material, and landing a sharp and hard slap across your ass. You barely manage to keep the scream in, as he spanks you again.                                                                               “Did you just disobeyed your daddy? Huh? You know what happens to naughty girls?”- another slap on your swollen ass cheek. The doorbell rings again, accompanied with a few knocks.                                               “Who I am to you?” he asks, spreading your ass cheeks. You try to wiggle out, knowing what is coming, but it is useless. Dabi slaps you across your moist cunt.                                                                                                    “I asked, who I am to you?” - his pulls on your pussy lips, pinching them.    “Daddy!”- you whine in your palms, trying to hide your flustered face, but your juices betray your real feelings about this. He smiles, his perfect white teeth exposed, making his devilish nature only more visible.             “That is right. Now open that door and give the little shit what they want.”- you nod, opening the door only a bit, seeing 3 masked kids with one mother. You smile, giving them candy fast, praying to God that this will be over quickly, but you are wrong. The kids did ran away fast, going to the second house, but the mother stayed, the neighbor down the street, asking you how are you spending your night. You were just about to answer, when you felt something cold-ish rubbing against your clit. You bite your lip, holding in a moan and a straight face, but the feeling only gets worse. Dabi was on his knees, rubbing the chocolate bar against your pussy, making it melt from your heat, just so he can lean in and suck off the messy chocolate trail going along your cunt.                                   “You have such a tasty little pussy princess..”- you hear his murmurs, making you to close your eyes, but the neighbor noticed something was wrong.                                                                                                    “(Y/N), everything alright? “ - she tried to peak behind you but you lean out a bit more, pulling the door so it covers the inside of the house.                   “N-no, everything is f-fine.” you almost bite your own tongue as Dabi sticks three fingers inside of you at once.                                                “Yes doll, keep lying for daddy...keep talking while daddy cleans your cute cunt from this chocolate..I know you love when I do this..” - he kisses your inner thighs as he slowly stretches you with his thick fingers. You want to whine from the size of them, but you stay silent, eager to please him while he tortures you like this. As the woman outside keeps talking, you sink your nails into the wooden door, enduring Dabi’s tender fingering as he suck on your sensitive purl, murmuring around it every few minutes, eating your tortures orgasms with a smile.                                                   “Yes, you can cum baby girl, daddy allows it...that’s it...perfect..your cunt is getting more wet, daddy loves it...”- he takes a long sample with his soft muscle across your slit.                                                                                 “Daddy is going to keep eating on your pussy, ok doll? Of course it is ok, you belong to your daddy, and this dripping cunt is mine.”

You are lucky that the streets are crowded on the Halloween parade. All masked people jumping, yelling and celebrating in the crowd, covering the sound of your loud moans while Dabi shamelessly fucks you in the middle of the street.  It started as a simple marking of your soft tights while he was carrying you on his shoulders through the parade. Burying his head under your short skirt, nibbling on your skin, until you made a mistake of trying to make him stop. He sees it as an insult, depriving him from what is his. If he wants to play with you, he will do so and there is nothing you can do. Or you can try, and end up like this: the moment you tried to pull his head out, the nibble turned into a hard bite, sucking on the skin and squeezing it with his teeth, leaving the painful marks that will remind you for days on your misbehavior. But that was far from over. With one well swoop, he took you off his shoulders, placing your legs around his waist while he held you with one hand on your ass.                                               “When  daddy wants you, daddy will have you.” - he roars in your ear, pushing his finger inside your panties, pulling them until they break. You beg, shaking your head, looking around to the tons of people surrounding you.                                                                                                                “Please, no, no someone will see!” - you try to apologize but your words fall on deaf ear.                                                                                             “You should have had thought about it earlier...now open yourself for me.”- he growls, forcefully adjusting you to line up with his crotch. You could feel his hand unzipping his jeans, as it brushed on your cunt,and a second later, his hard thick cock filled you up with one push. You screamed, thanking the God the other screams ate yours. Dabi kept waking as he started to bounce you up and down on his dick. You buried you forehead in his shoulder, whining and moaning, can’t handle that he is fucking you in the middle of the street.                                                         “Shhh..shh...you are doing so good doll..daddy is proud..maybe he even forgives you...but first...your little cunt will pay for your mistakes.”- his hits became shallow, hard, as a few suspicious eyes glare at you, be he does not stop. You cover you face with your palms, trying to hide the lewd expression on it.                                                                                            “It is ok gorgeous..I got you..relax...daddy will fill you pussy soon and it will be over...just keep bouncing with that tight pussy on daddy’s cock..”- he gasps, not giving a slightest damn about anything but that he is 9 inches deep in you. You wiggle some more, but finally warning comes quickly enough.                                                                                                          “If you don’t do as daddy say, I will pull out, put you on your knees and paint your face with my load in front of everyone. Got it?”- you nod in panic, settling down and giving in the rhythm of his thrusts.                         “That’s it...good little whore....so good around my cock...aghh...daddy will fill you up now, stay still..”- you did not even heard his last words, but you felt a warm feeling spreading inside of you, as he came inside you.

[oftenderweapons]

The Conversations - part 2/3

Characters: Seokjin, Jimin 

Wordcount: 3.4k words

Genre: slice of life, discussion of NSFW topics, conversation

Rating: suggested 18+

And I’m back! To celebrate the milestone of 100 readers, I’m beginning to add banners to the one-shots I’ve posted so far! 

In addition to that, after posting the Jin Stress reliever scenario, I’ve decided to post also this piece to give a more in-depth analysis of how Jin reacts to what happened in the one-shot. 

Jimin and Jin discuss what happened during Jin’s latest encounter with his girlfriend, nicknamed Angel, his view on their relationship and his s/o’s requests. Jimin talks about his partner, Princess, how they reached their balance within their relationship and offers Jin some tips on how to face his struggles with the new lifestyle he’s approaching. It briefly mentions other members.

This huge mess is unedited, and it’s 1 am, and I’m dumb, please bear with me :)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: hinting at smut, quite detailed description of psychological mechanisms of BDSM, mentions of masturbation, gagballs, blindfolds, spanking, domination and submission; establishment of rules, limits and punishments; angst involving gender roles and social constructs; both the guys are struggling, a tad embarrassed here and there, but nothing major, just opening up to each other. Jimin is a loving fairy, Jin is a curious bumblebee, and we all love them to bits. Enjoy!

Here is my masterlist!

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

Jimin took off his earphones after something that sounded like a knock on his door. 

“Yeeees, come in!” He screamed, still sitting on his bed, pausing the video playing on his tablet. 

“Hi there.” Jin poked his head through the barely opened door. 

“Hi, hyung. Is everything okay?” The context seemed a little bit suspicious to Jimin, his sixth sense catching a slightly off vibe. 

“Yeah. How are you, by the way?” He asked, his expression kind and happy, but his laugh coming off nervous. 

“I’m okay, just tired from practice. I’m watching the sample, trying to understand the transition, in the break you know.”

“Yeah, yeah. Nasty transition.” 

That gave him away. “Do you need to practice?”

“No, not really. But you know, if you’re tired I can come back another day, I was just checking on you.” 

“Hyung.” Jimin sat up, his legs dangling from the side of the bed as he pat the space at his side. “Come here.”

“May I?” Jin gestured at closing the door. 

“Yes, of course.” Jimin replied, putting down the tablet on his bedside table. 

Jin clicked the door shut softly and looked at his bare feet as he approached the bed.

“What is it? The Magic Shop is open, Fairy Jimin is here to assist you.” He cupped his face with his hands, his fingers moving in a jazz. 

Jin blushed, his fingers contorting in his lap. “Actually, it’s not that kind of conversation. Sort of… More mature.”

Jimin’s brow furrowed. “It’s okay.” He angled himself toward his friend, crossing his legs on the bed and shrinking inside his sweater. “You’re safe here.”

“Thank you. I might-- I’m not completely comfortable talking about it. But I really need your help.”

Jimin smiled softly, placing an hand on his shoulder. ”Take your time.”

Jin’s finger joints cracked noisily. “Ehm, the other day I accidentally overheard your conversation with Taehyung. I’m sorry about it.”

Jimin shrinked even more, his cheeks blushing delicately. “That was really private.”

“Again, I’m very sorry.” Jin tried looking at the other man with honest apology in his eyes. “But eventually that led me here. Because I sort of need your help. That is, if you wanna talk about it.”

Jimin toyed with his sweater paws, his fingertips appearing only to comb back his hair. “I guess it depends on what you wanna talk about.”

“I have some questions.” Jin also settled in more comfortably, mirroring the dancer’s position. “It’s sort of delicate.” A tense pause. “Angel and I--” Another long pause. 

“You’re experimenting?” Jimin asked. 

“Yeah.” Jin exhaled deeply, more comfortable now that the other was helping him with the talking. 

“Does she want to take the lead?” Jimin was absolutely careful with the wording. 

“No, quite the other way around, actually.” Jin hid his eyes behind his palm.

“Okay,” Jimin licked his lips, slightly more relaxed. “Then why are you here? Why didn’t you ask Taehyung or Hobi?”

“Is Hoseok…?”

“Yeah. And a pretty strict one.” Jimin giggled. “Yoongi, also. But not really. It’s not as bad as the other two. Namjoon is softer. Not really a dom, but not vanilla either.”

“I thought he were more... like you?”

Jimin giggled and then frowned. “What do you mean ‘like me’?”

Jin struggled a second. “More… submissive? Like fifty-fifty?”

“I guess you should ask him.” He said, slightly upset. 

Jin blushed. “Sorry.”

Jimin realised his mistake. “Nevermind, I was rude. No reason to be sorry. There’s nothing wrong with being submissive. It’s a matter of character. Personality. You don’t really choose.” He replied, and his words felt almost mechanical.

“So you...” Jin once more struggled. 

“Why did you want to talk to me? And not the others?” Jimin asked softly, trying to understand.

Jin’s eyebrows arched. “I really need to understand what it feels like for her. Why she needs it.”

“Okay.” Jimin nodded. “Everyone has their own reasons, and talking with me won’t substitute talking with her. You’ll have to, eventually. If you really care about her.”

“I understand.”

“Princess and I got into this carefully. It’s really a matter of communication and experience. You need to trust each other and not be afraid to say what you like and what you don’t like.”

“So you need to talk it out.” Jin was approaching the matter pragmatically. He just needed more information. Someplace to start. 

“I’d say so, yes.”

“I don’t really get why she wants me to be hard on her?” Jin spit the question out in frustration. 

“I’m not the best person to ask, but I’d say it’s not a matter of being hard on someone. It’s more of a matter of discipline.”

“Like what?”

“Sometimes you feel a little bit lost, and you just want someone to give you rules, like limits, like you know, the line on asphalt that indicate where the road lays?”

“Do you mean road signs?”

“More like the roadside. Road signs are things like commands. Instructions.”

“Okay. So she needs roadsides.” Jin asked, confused.

Jimin giggled. “Imagine feeling vulnerable in a big, dark room. Now, imagine leading a person through that room. That’s what she’s asking you.”

“I need to lead her.”

“Yes.” Jimin’s lips arched upwards, glad that Jin was getting in the right mindset. “It also depends on the type of submissive she is. They are not all the same. For example, the dynamics between me and Princess are not always the same. Sometimes she’s the one in command. Sometimes it’s me. Though it’s mostly her.” Jimin disappeared into his hoodie, laughing as a hand covered his mouth. 

“So a person is not always submissive. That’s right.” He nodded in agreement. “We’re usually pretty even, both in charge, but sometimes she wishes I took control.”

“That sounds nice. It’s a matter of balance. Would you feel comfortable taking control?”

“Well, sometimes I wish I could.” Jin huffs out a tense laugh, frustration and tiredness suddenly overwhelming him. 

“Is it stressful for you?” Jimin reached out for him, putting his hand on top of Jin’s.

“Sort of. I feel— Conflicted?” Jin’s forehead creased, mouth pouting.

“Let’s do pros and cons.” Jimin fumbled around for a while, looking for pen and paper. “Seeing it written down will help you reconsider the actual size of the issue.” Jimin’s kind smile eased Jin’s nerves a little.

“So, let’s start with the reasons why you don’t want to do it.” Jimin held up a notepad and a pencil. 

“Hurting her.” Jin didn’t need to think for one second.

“Okay, next.”

“Because it’s disrespectful.”

Jimin tried to keep a poker face, but he twisted nose in a funny way. “Next.”

“Because I feel like I’m not loving her when I treat her like that.”

Once more the younger man encouraged him to proceed.

“Because thinking about it makes me feel dirty.” He waited a few second. “Because I don’t know what to do. And how to do it right.” He blushed. “And I don’t know if she likes it because she cries out and I don’t understand whether it’s good or bad and her face scrunches up like I’m hurting her, you know?”

Jimin nodded, his face opening in warm understanding, then he drew a harsh line, dividing the page in two vertically. “Okay, now the pros.” 

“Because I want to make her happy.” Once more he didn’t hesitate in putting his Angel first.

“And?”

“I am so tired of feeling this… pressure.”

“Who’s pressuring you?” Jimin asked. 

“I feel this tension, inside. Between doing what’s right and feeling right.”

“There are a lot of things I am currently not understanding.” Jimin scratched his head cutely.

“I-- There are all these things that society accepts. That we’re taught, about love, and about intimacy with the person you love. That it should be sweet and loving and respectful. But then there are all these other things that I want that are none of that, none of what we’ve been taught.”

“Okay, hyung. But are you saying that if I want to bend my girlfriend against the kitchen table and fuck her into next week, then I’m sick?”

“No!” Jin said, already defending not himself, but Jimin. “You have each and every right to do what you want. And it’s your relationship, in your house, with your rules.”

“This applies to you too, right?” Jimin grinned, showing exactly his point.  “Intimacy is creating that place where you have special rules just for you and the one you love. It’s a bubble. Made of understanding, trust. And negotiated boundaries. If I can do that in my own house, you can do that in yours.”

“Thank you, Jimin.” 

“It’s okay, hyung.”

“I also want to give in because it feels so good when I do.”

“So you do have dommed already?” Jimin was immediately curious.

“It was not planned.” Jin looked like he was protecting himself. “Absolutely unintentional. But next time I need to have some structure. Some knowledge.”

“You should create that with your Angel, hyung.” He shouldn’t push him, Jimin reminded himself. 

“May I ask how did you and Princess build that?” Jin asked, again just looking for general knowledge.

“We, uhm. For the first month or two we were a very traditional couple, we did nothing too extreme. Then one night I was tired and tense, we were rehearsing a lot back then, and I was always so in control of myself because of dancing, straining myself towards perfection. And I came home and that night Princess took control. She asked me what I wanted and she did it. As long as I did what she wanted me to. It doesn’t need to be gagballs and blindfolds. All you need is the mindset.”

“So I don’t need to like… Spank her or…?” Jin blushed. He didn’t mind spanking Angel. Not one bit. But other things felt dark. Too dangerous. Maybe if he had more experience...

“That depends on her. If she asks you to, you need to choose whether you want to or not. Usually it’s more comfortable to decide what you can or cannot ask beforehand. It helps avoid misunderstandings and second thoughts.”

“Great. And what about rules?” Jin asks, once more curious.

“Well, that depends on the kind of power play you are part of. There are different kinds of domination and submission. Some doms have rules that only have to do with the submissive’s sexual sphere. Others have rules that affect, so to say, even their every day life. What to eat, how to dress, how to behave, etcetera.”

“How did you get to know all of this.” Jin’s question came naturally. How could he possibly get to know all this stuff?

“Reading. Watching documentaries. Chatting with Yoongi and Tae. I think Yoongi hyung could really help you with your side of the situation. As far as Angel is concerned, well, I can help you.” His eyes twinkled happily.

“Thanks. Okay, so I don’t think I really want to put rules over Angel's everyday life.” Jin was already sure of that. He didn’t feel comfortable telling her what to do and how to dress. She’s a grown woman. On that he would not budge. He knew that was his limit.

“That’s okay. That’s where you stand. You could decide some overall rules, and then negotiate them again as you go, if the two of you need them. Usually having three to five rules is a good compromise. They should be easy to remember, mutually agreed and pretty generic. For me and Princess they’re extremely easy: no cheating, no teasing, no going to bed upset with each other, no selfish pleasure - that is, yeah, you can masturbate as long as you tell the other, and finally, never be afraid to ask.”

“Wow.” Jin thought that those kind of rules -- well, most of them -- were already included in his relationship with Angel. He thought about her and toys. How he would love if she told him about that. He would ask for a rule about that. 

Jimin misunderstood Jin’s absent gaze. “It might sound big, but it’s actually pretty cool.” He tried making the conversation lighter in fear of scaring his hyung. “I know what I can or cannot do. If we go against the rules, obviously there is punishment. I know that that word sounds scary.” Jimin paused again. “It’s normal to feel insecure. Punishment has been used against us so many times since we were children, but it’s a very good way to deal with guilt.” Jimin removed his hand from Jin’s, playign with his sweateer paws. “Princess and I are both perfectionists. If we’re not perfect at something, we tend to turn to guilt, mortification and self hate. Having someone punish you makes you feel like you have paid for your mistake, so no need to worry about it no more. I didn’t learn the choreography after a day? I’m going home bitter and tired and Princess will take it from there, choosing whether to treat me to remind me I’m still good or to punish me because I was mean and hard on myself. And sometimes I do the same for her.” Jimin looked Jin in the eye, offering his own vulnerability in exchange for that of his friend.

“That sounds so good.” Jin averted his glance, his thoughts running wild, imagining how good it would feel to finally validate his own needs. And Angel’s needs. To give her everything she has ever dreamed of. To liberate her. To explore his need to treat Angel like his fuckdoll, to reward her with orgasm after orgasm, watching her scream as he rammed into her. To make her cum like he did last time, nothing but him inside her. 

Jimin giggled. “It is good. Punishment is not an instrument to torture, but rather to redeem. To cleanse. To regain balance after a fault.” He lost himself in the memory of the heavy smack of your wooden hairbrush on his bum. “It’s a way to feel like you earned forgiveness.”

“Is it why she wants it?” Jin’s eyebrows arched. 

“Maybe. Maybe she just thinks that a little bit of pain enhances the pleasure. Maybe it’s away for her to exorcise fear. Or shame.”

“How so?”

“Sometimes I feel… ashamed. Of what I like. Princess knows it. It’s normal, especially when society teaches you that what you that the man should take the lead, that he should be strong and authoritative. So sometimes I feel wrong when I don’t want to be the dominant one, when I don’t want to decide and I need someone else to do it for me, when I need someone to take care of me.” Jimin felt vulnerable opening up like that, but at the same time he was glad he was helping his friend. “Princess sometimes makes me do things that I don’t have the courage to ask, but that I like. It makes me feel less ashamed because she’s asking me to. She is validating that part of me that wants those things.”

Jin nodded, patting Jimin’s shoulder. He thought about his girl. How she asked him what she wanted. “Angel is not ashamed of asking, though. She’s asked before.”

Jimin also nodded, already knowing his reply. “Maybe she’s not ashamed of asking, but a part of her is ashamed for wanting those things. Maybe she’s asking because she has grown tired of being ashamed and needs you to do something.” Jimin pressed his fists to his chest. “At least, that’s how it works, for me.”

“Okay. Well, now that I think of it, she did mention that sometimes she feels… dirty for wanting some stuff. Especially since it’s stuff she thinks I don’t like.”

“May I ask about that? I mean, you said she thinks you don’t like it. So, do you like it or not?” Jimin’s body opened up, leaning into Jin slightly, as if to offer comfort. He tried to sound less intrusive.

“Oh, I like it. It’s just that… It scares me. I don’t know it, and I could hurt her because I’m not that experienced. In that side of me.” Jin hid his head between his shoulders.

“Okay, there is stuff you should discuss. Limits. For example, with Princess I know that her neck is very sensitive, but I cannot choke her. She likes it when I cum on her, but not on her face. I can leave lovebites on her, but if she has something like an appointment with the doctor, I cannot leave marks and bruises. It’s all stuff you talk about when you negotiate rules, punishments, limits and safwords.” Jimin looked down. “Sorry, that was a lot.”

“Don’t worry. It actually helps discovering more stuff about this world.” Jin again aimed at putting Jimin at ease.

Jimin moved on. “Great. So, you mentioned you already had some powerplay. What did you like, what was not your thing?” 

Jin thought about that night. Every second was still fresh in his mind. He’d thought about that so many times that the memory looked like a well-used path in the woods, the tracks made of brown gravel instead of lush green grass. “I liked how happy she looked. She was there, with her big eyes open wide, waiting for my instructions. And she loved looking at me. She looked like she was enjoying my own pleasure.”

Jimin nodded happily. “That’s how it works. Usually a submissive physically enjoys their dominant’s pleasure.”

“And she liked me being rough. Actually got off to it.”

“Okay. And did you like it?”

Again he remembered the sweet heatwave rolling down his spine, the memory of the feeling sparking new desire. “Yes. She was… I’m sorry if I get too descriptive, but I was sitting on the bed and she was there, kneeling before me, looking at me like she wanted nothing but to see me cum and-- It was hot. I couldn’t hold myself back.”

“It’s okay. It’s a good thing that you can identify what you like. Now, what bothered you?”

Jin again revisited the whole memory, playing rewind and replay. There wasn’t much he hadn’t liked about the intercourse. It was the aftertaste of it. “I didn’t like how I felt afterwards. Like I had to clean myself morally. And I didn’t like how Dr. Jekyll-Mr. Hyde I felt as we… made love?” He felt doubtful at the expression.

“You can say fuck, hyung. There’s nothing wrong.” Jimin raised an eyebrow. “There’s nothing wrong with fucking your girlfriend. Or wanting to. Some people cheat on their girlfriends because they feel like they’re not free to fuck them. They have a person to fuck and another to make love. The secret to a good relationship is feeling like you want to be sweet but also harsh to the same person, that you feel love and lust for your partner. I feel honoured when Princess wants to fuck me. Or when she wants me to fuck her. She feels desire for me. And that means that she won’t look for someone else.”

“I understand.” Jin closed his eyes, every precious moment with Angel suddenly overwhelming him. “I really want to be the one that she wants.”

“That’s nice. But you should also be the one that you want for yourself. You should feel free to chase after what you want. And if that’s sending your girlfriend into toe-curling orgasms, then be it.”

Jin laughed and Jimin’s honest comment. “I’m really thankful for this conversation.”

“I am, too.” Jimin approached the next question carefully. “So do you think you’ll try and work this out with Angel?”

Jin pondered his answer. “I’d love to. But we’ll take our time. Talk things out.”

“Getting into this with Princess was not easy. She was not used to domming before me, so she had to learn things too. But she’s loving it now. She already had that mindset, the one that you feel. Once you learn what you like and what your partner likes, that’s all downhill. Trust yourself. Happiness is all yours, not what society expects from you.”

Jin smiled brightly. “Thank you, Jimin.”

“Tell me if it works out, hyung.” Jimin patted his hand. “And when you need me, you know where I’ll be.”

[linlingsblog]

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[cuthian]

Becoming a Memory, Becoming a Treasure Chapter Two

So, uh...

That took much less long than I expected it to. Still don't know where this is going exactly, but these characters are SO fun to write!

Thanks for all the love, everyone!

Love Annaelle

PS Thanks to my darling beta @juuls, who has not watched the show and has no clue what's going on but still reads over samples for me :p I'd be helpless without you, darling.

TWO

“Life is like a Beautiful Melody, Only the Lyrics Are Messed Up.”

—Hans Christian Andersen  

REGGIE

Seeing Maggie again had… it’d soothed the sharp edges of something broken deep inside Reggie’s chest. Something that had been hurting so badly for so long he didn’t even realize it hurt until it stopped. She was an adult, and she was married—to a woman! How would his father have taken both of his kids turning out to be gay?—and had a baby that she’d named after him, and it didn’t look like their parents had been as shitty to her as they had been to him.

He walked home with Julie, keeping his arm slung around her shoulders because they could do that now, even if none of them knew why, mostly keeping their conversation light and easy.

He’d have to warn Alex, when they got back to the studio, that Julie knew that they’d fooled around and dated, and that the chances that Luke was going to find out were suddenly much higher.

It wasn’t that they’d intentionally kept it a secret… at first, anyway.

At first, it’d been awkward, because Luke and Alex hadn’t been broken up that long, and though it had been amicable, it felt a little like they were crossing a line that couldn’t be uncrossed ever again. Reggie hadn’t actually meant for anything to happen between him and Alex; he’d sought out his friend to ask how he’d known he liked boys, how he’d felt when Luke kissed him, if he’d ever looked at girls the same way he looked at boys, because Reggie did.

Reggie loved girls.

But… but… Reggie was also 99.9% sure he’d been in love with Luke Patterson since the day they’d met.

By the time Reggie had figured that out though, Luke had already dated Alex, broken up with Alex, and started dating a girl named Tawnie or Tiffany or something. So he’d turned to Alex instead.

Alex, who had smiled at him when Reggie said he didn’t know if he’d want to kiss a guy the way he’d kissed girls, shrugged and said, “So kiss me, see how that feels.”

Reggie had never really been able to resist a dare, so he had.

It’d kind of spiraled from there, and they’d just… kind of kept doing it.

They’d never quite gotten around to telling Luke or Bobby about it because neither of them thought it was a big deal. They fooled around when they felt like it, but they weren’t in love—they were best friends, and Reggie loved the hell out of Alex and he knew Alex felt the same, but they weren’t…

It wasn’t romantic love.

It’d taken Reggie some time to admit that though, even to himself. Alex had figured it out first—Alex always did know these things before Reggie did.

“So,” Julie said as they turned the corner to walk into her street. “Are you gonna talk to Luke?”

“About Maggie?” Reggie deflected deliberately. “Obviously. He and Alex might wanna pop in at some point too.”

Julie drew him to a stop and gave him a look.

Reggie heaved a sigh and hung his head.

“There’s really nothing to talk about,” he shrugged. “I mean, I think I… I think I’m cool with Luke not being into me like that, you know?”

Julie slapped him up the head.

“Ow,” he whined. “What was that for?”

“Oh, dio mio,” Julie groaned, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation. “I give up.” She stalked forward, leaving Reggie standing dumbfounded on the sidewalk for a second before he chased after her.

Luke and Alex were throwing a basketball between them restlessly on the driveway, clearly waiting for Julie and Reggie to show up. “There you are,” Luke exclaimed as soon as they came into view, rushing forward to grab at Reggie’s shoulders. “How’d it go? What does she look like? Did she buy Julie’s story? Are you okay?”

Reggie stumbled back a little, taken aback by the onslaught of questions, but Alex popped up behind him and steadied him with a hand pressed to his back.

“Ugh,” Julie snorted. “You guys are hopeless.”

She left them standing on the driveway, walking into the house after rolling her eyes at them. Reggie was pretty sure she was just going inside to text Flynn so they could gossip about them.

“It was fine,” he told Luke and Alex. “She’s—she’s great. I mean, she, uh…” His eyes watered and he swallowed thickly. “She named her kid after me.”

Tears rolled down his cheeks as he said it, and Alex made a soft noise before he folded his arms around Reggie and held him in a tight hug. “Oh, Reg,” he said quietly, leaning his forehead against Reggie’s temple, and Reggie sagged against him gratefully. Seeing his sister had taken more out of him than he had thought it had, and now that Alex was holding him and Luke was coming to terms with someone crying in front of him, it hit him hard.

Alex’s hugs really were the best.

Luke, it seemed, had finally processed and accepted that Reggie was crying and tumbled headfirst into panic, rushing closer too, pressing his palms to Reggie’s cheeks, rubbing at his tears with his thumbs. “Of course she did,” Luke said softly. “You were the best big brother. She adored you.”

Reggie sobbed dryly, pitching forward to tuck his face in the crook of Luke’s neck, wrapping his arms around his best friend. Alex moved with him, staying pressed close so that Reggie was effectively cradled between them, letting him sob out the tension, the grief, the nerves—

Letting him work through everything meeting his sister again had brought up.

He wasn’t sure how long they stood there, how long Alex and Luke held him and let him cry, but he knew that his eyes felt dry and scratchy by the time he looked up, and Luke’s eyes were distinctly red too, and he could hear Alex sniffing a little too.

“I’m okay,” he whispered. “Thanks, guys.”

“Duh,” Alex said affectionately, leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of Reggie’s lips without thinking about it, just like he had a hundred times before when Reggie had been upset, before freezing abruptly when he realized this was the first time he’d done that in front of Luke.

Reggie froze too, swallowing thickly before he dared to look up at Luke, who was looking between them with a bewildered—and slightly hurt—expression.

“Uh,” Reggie said eloquently.

“I—uh,” Alex stuttered, cheeks flaming, pulling his hands away from Reggie and holding them up defensively. “I’m sorry?”

“What is going on?” Luke said harshly, eyes flicking from Reggie to Alex and back.

Reggie opened his mouth to say something, but when no words came out, he shut it again. “Luke,” Alex started, but Luke shook his head and stepped back, looking at them with an expression that made Reggie’s insides clench painfully.

He ran a hand through his messy hair and shook his head. “Fine,” he spat angrily. “Fine.”

Before Reggie or Alex could say anything, he disappeared with a soft plop.

“Shit,” Reggie cursed, running his hands through his hair. “Shit. Of all the ways he could’ve found out.”

“I’m sorry,” Alex said anxiously. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking.” He wrung his hands together nervously, chewing on his lower lip.

“No, it’s—” Reggie sighed. “Julie found out today too. I was gonna talk to you about telling him, but…”

“Yeah,” Alex sighed. “Yeah, we probably should’ve handled that better.”

Reggie bit his lower lip before he told Alex, “I’ll go find him. Talk to him.” He rubbed his hands over his upper arms and smiled weakly at the other boy. “He’s probably mostly pissed that we didn’t tell him anything. And as much as you suck at change, Luke is just as bad.”

“Yeah,” Alex chuckled weakly. “Yeah, he is.”

Reggie could see Alex hesitate, could see him thinking something through before he stepped forward and very deliberately took Reggie’s face in his hands before pressing the softest, most chaste kiss they had ever shared—the first kiss since Alex had told him they needed to stop their romantic relationship—to his lips.

It tasted remarkably like goodbye.

“I’ll go find Willie,” Alex said quietly when he leaned back. “Tell him too. He should know before Luke runs into him and tells him something that isn’t—”

“Yeah,” Reggie nodded. “Okay. Good luck.”

“You too,” Alex told him, smiling genuinely before he stepped back and disappeared with a plop.

“Right,” Reggie said. He thought about where Luke would go, about where he’d try to hide from him and Alex, before sighing. There really was only one spot Luke would go to.

“Here goes nothing,” he told himself, and popped away.

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

MAGGIE

Maggie walked into the office with a bit of a spring in her step, the bracelet that her brother had once made her now sized to fit her wrist and sitting just below her watch. “Hey Maggie,” Andi said as soon as Maggie had walked into her own office, leaning against the door casually. “Long time no see.”

Maggie snorted a laugh as she sat down at her desk and pulled her laptop out of her purse. “Well I did have a baby, Andi. It’s called maternity leave.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Andi rolled her eyes and walked in, settling in the chair across the desk. “Rub it in. You do not get to look like that,” she gestured towards Maggie vaguely, “twelve weeks after given birth to a literal human being. You’re giving us all a bad name.”

Maggie laughed and rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Any interesting artists pop up while I was gone?”

“Eh,” Andi shrugged. “Trevor Wilson’s kid isn’t bad, but she’s not good enough to stand out, I don’t think. There was one band with a lot of potential, but I haven’t been able to get in touch with them just yet.” She shrugged. “I tried to pitch the lead singer after a show, but an angry parent interrupted.”

“Oof,” Maggie winced.

Angry parents were the worst thing about trying to recruit successful young artists.

“What’s the band?” She asked, typing in her password and opening her search engine immediately. “Want me to do some digging?”

“Sure,” Andi said casually. “It’s Julie and the Fat Ones. Phantoms? I can’t recall.” She got to her feet elegantly and said, “If you can find and book ‘em, they’re all yours.” She walked out of the office, turning at the door to smile genuinely and say, “Welcome back.”

Maggie grinned. “Thanks, Andi.”

She turned back to her laptop and typed in Julie and the— Before she’d even completed the second word, suggestions and results were springing up, including a few videos. She looked through the options for a moment before deciding on the video with the most views—an absurd and impressive number, considering it had only been up for a week—titled ‘Great’.

She clicked the link, and the video played.

-------

Start from the beginning:

Becoming a Memory, Becoming a Treasure:

(1)  

Or read it HERE on AO3 :D Find the next chapter HERE on Tumblr :)

[thgfanficinspo]

Fear of the Water - 20

Annie meets the other victors from District 4

From the Start - Jonsa - Coryo

(ANNIE)

There are nice clothes in my closet but I don’t want to wear them because I know they’re from the Capitol. And I’m not in the Capitol anymore and I don’t want it on me I don’t want it hanging off my skin.

I find one of my everyday dresses that Bosun brought along to the new house and slip it on. I always wear big shapeless dresses that go to my knees. I like them because they don’t get in my way – I can run around or work or sleep or do anything without them causing me any trouble. They’re long enough that I don’t have to worry about people seeing too much if I crouch or bend or climb, and the materials are simple and comfortable, and the fact that they’re so loose means I don’t have to keep adjusting them like I would with regular dresses. And I like that they’re dresses, too.  Pants always trip me up, and I don’t like worrying about two different pieces of clothing when I can just wear one.

I don’t like being in this new bedroom, at least not yet. I don’t like being in this house. It’s too big. Too many rooms. Creaky floorboards and rusty door hinges. Too many places for something to hide.

I change as fast as I can and then run back downstairs. Bosun is pacing in a circle around the main room. He glances up at me. “Get changed; we’re gonna be late.”

I shake my head.

He opens his mouth and curls his lip like always does when he’s about to yell at me but he makes himself stop and take a deep breath to calm down because I think he knows he shouldn’t yell at me, at least not yet. He’s trying to wait a couple days to let me settle in before he starts up again. I hope he doesn’t start up again at all.

When things are good with Bosun, they’re great. It’s like we’re the only people in the world and we’re everything to each other. But then when I start counting things or get “stuck in a loop,” as he says, he gets annoyed and tells me to stop even though he knows I can’t. if I stop it feels like a million tiny ants covering every bit of my skin and I can’t move or do anything until I’ve finished counting.

He raises his eyebrows at me in some sort of prompt. “Ready?”

There are three big dogs in front of Mags’s porch that stare at us as we approach. I think of the dogs in the arena and start to pull away from Bosun, but he holds onto me. “They’re just dogs,” he says. “You can’t be afraid of dogs forever.”

Mags appears in the doorway. “Annie! Bosun!” She waves her hand at the dogs and they disperse. “Ignore them. They hang around wherever they think they can get food. They’re harmless.”

All the homes on Victor’s Isle follow a formula, but there are subtle differences in each. My new house seems to have less walls than Mags’s. Hers is artfully decorated and looks comforting and warm. She’s had almost sixty years to work on it.

“The others are already inside. I don’t think Eefa will make it, though. She’s not one for socializing.”

The others, including Broadsea.

Broadsea. He was a member of the Career pack during his Games. He betrayed them relatively early on – probably because he didn’t like working with other people and he didn’t want them out there working against him. Broadsea was on watch one night while his allies slept. He killed them each, one by one, by slitting their throats or stabbing them through the heart.  

One of them managed to get a knife and hack his face apart before dying.

I’m still lost in my thoughts when we find him in the kitchen.

“Annie, Bosun, this is Broadsea.”

And there he is – arms crossed over his enormous chest. He’s well over six feet and at least two inches taller than Finnick, who’s already taller than six feet, too. The best word I can think to describe him is sturdy.  He looks like he could stand in one spot during a tidal wave and not even notice it crashing over him. He has hazel eyes and his jaw is strong and square and half his face is hardly a face at all.

That scar – it’s one thing to see on television, but completely different in person. He had some medicine to treat the wound, but not enough. The wound was infected. He did a piecemeal job of stitching it back together with threads pulled from his fallen allies’ clothing.

They cleaned it up as best they could in the Capitol, even removed some tissue and tried to build him a new cheek artificially, but it didn’t work. I still can’t believe he survived such a thing. Now it’s as wide as a finger from his right cheekbone to his jaw, where it dips under his chin and stretches down almost onto his neck. Ghostly pale against his coffee-colored skin. He grew a beard to partially cover it, but no hair grows over the corrupted flesh, so it just makes it stand out even more.

Not to mention the fingertips and toes he lost to frostbite. And the tip of his nose. But those have all been patched up.

He gives of us each a good up and down look before turning away without a word.

Proteus turns away from the stove to greet us and I feel a little bit better because Proteus is not scary or mean and I sort of know him. “Ah, I’m glad you’re here. I wanted your opinion on the sauce I made for the duck before I serve it.” He gives me and Bosun each a little spoonful of orangey-brown stuff. Bosun takes a lick and offers his compliments.

Finnick strolls in as we taste, completely ignoring Broadsea even though they’re about to walk right into each other. He stops for a moment and shoots him a mocking smile before he steps aside to let him through. Broadsea keeps on walking, knocking back another glass of liquor as he makes his way to the sitting room. Finnick is bright again as soon as Broadsea gone. “Do I get a sample?” he asks, flashing that winning smile.

He was fourteen when he was in my place. A child. But he doesn’t look like a child anymore. He was never exactly childlike, though; in the arena he was handsome and young with a chiseled face and sparkling eyes, his cheeks always flushed from being outside. He was gorgeous, and everyone was impatient to watch him grow up and therefor more handsome. And so they could touch him. So he could touch them.

I still don’t understand that – why he wants to jump from bed to bed. Surely the gifts they give him can’t be worth all the trouble. Is he just bored? Or is sex really that good? Having someone flop around and sweat all over you doesn’t sound terribly appealing to me, even with someone like Finnick.

Finnick pulls me out of my mind when he sidles up next to me. “I see you met Broadsea,” he murmurs. He produces a handful of sugar cubes seemingly out of nowhere, pops some in his mouth, and stars crunching away. He speaks through the mouthful: “Don’t feel bad – he hardly ever talks. And he’s an asshole anyway.” He realizes something. “Oh, do you want some candy or sugar or something? I keep a stash in the pantry. Mags thinks it’s bad for me, but I’m nineteen, so what I eat doesn’t really matter.”

If only he knew what it was like to be a woman.

“You might as well sit down,” Proteus says to us over his shoulder. “I’m almost ready to serve.”

Proteus’s wife, Brona, is already seated at the oval dining table, which is made of reclaimed wood.

Her clear, smooth skin is the color of honey and almonds, and she keeps her dark hair tied behind her head in a tight bun that pulls the skin on her forehead taut. Her mouth and teeth are big, but they fit better with her face than my big mouth and teeth fit with mine. She introduces herself and shakes Bosun’s hand. She doesn’t try to shake mine; somebody probably warned her about it.

I wonder how hard it must be for her and Proteus, to be separated from your love for the whole summer. Assuming they love each other.

It surprises me that so many victors have families – about a third of them, I think – but the fact that any of them has one is surprising. Any one of us, now.

Eefa got married at nineteen – a normal age in the districts but unbelievably young for the Capitol – and had two children, but she only speaks to one of them now. Proteus is married, of course, which honestly seems odd to me. He and Brona appear more like friends than lovers, but even friends might be too intimate a term. They don’t have children. On television, they always show Proteus next to a victor from District 5 who won a few years after him – the 55th Games, I think. He actually shows genuine fondness for the man; that’s obvious even through a televisions screen.

I wonder if Brona knows about this man. She seems very cold so I don’t know if she’d care.

We sit down and tuck in to eat. Finnick pulls out Mags’s chair and then mine and pushes them both in for us. He takes the chair between us and smiles at me as he settles in and my ears get red. Bosun is on my other side. Broadsea is directly across from me. I try not to look at him.

Proteus brings out a thick orange soup as our first course. He tells us what it’s made from but I don’t pay attention since the smell is so distracting. I start eating before everyone’s been served, which I think is rude but I don’t care. I slurp down two bowls and a fist-sized loaf of bread before anyone else finishes their first serving. I don’t care enough to look up at them or excuse myself.

I didn’t really eat today. Our kitchen isn’t stocked yet but I found some nuts and hid them in my pocket because I forget that there will be more food and that I don’t have to be hungry anymore ever. I haven’t counted them yet.

Bosun keeps looking back and forth from me to the other victors – trying to gauge my reactions to them and their reactions to me. He looks like he’s ready to leap across the table if he has to, though I don’t know why he would. He’s too smart to tangle with a victor. And he doesn’t even get into arguments with people he’s not related to. But he’s plenty argumentative with me and our cousins and Chelsea and me and me and me.

Broadsea observes me throughout the first course, which takes about half an hour for everyone to finish. He looks at me like some new trinket – strange and intriguing and more than anything else, a source of amusement. He’s continually eating hunks of bread which he tears from the rolls with his stumpy fingers (they had to amputate four fingertips above the knuckle after he won due to frostbite) and dips them in the soup. For every mouthful of bread he tears some off and puts it in his pocket. Maybe he forgets, too. About not being hungry anymore.

Finnick watches me too, but in a much softer way. His pretty green eyes are warm where his gaze touches my skin. He smiles whenever I do, and he’s quick with a story whenever there’s a lull in conversation.  

Proteus brings out the main course, which is made with duck rather than fish. People in District 4 get sick all the time from eating too much fish, so duck is a usual substitute, since that’s really the only other animal around except for seagulls. Duck is fancier than seagull. More expensive. But I guess that’s not a big deal since victors have so much money and we don’t ever have to be hungry anymore.

It’s served with turnips and Katniss root.

When I see it on the platter my stomach starts to roll over itself. My hands are shaking.

“Annie?”

I don’t know who says it. I don’t know who they’re saying it to.

I stand up fast, knocking my chair over and then tripping on it as I try to get away. I can’t be here. They’ll kill me to get my food. They’ll kill me for still being alive. I have to get away or they’ll kill me like they killed Piers and I don’t want to die but my legs aren’t working so I have to drag myself across the floor I can’t breathe.

“Annie! Annie!” It’s many voices now. They’re behind me, above me, closing in on me and I can’t breathe. I scoot back until my back slams against the wall. Put my hands over my ears so I can’t hear the mutts eating the boy from 6 or Piers screaming while they saw through him.

Bosun’s face is right in front of mine, saying “Annie? Annie?”

He’s not supposed to be here. His name wasn’t drawn. Why is he here? Why isn’t he home? They’ll cut his head off and they’ll poke out his eyes I’ll poke out his eyes and get goop on my hands and I can’t wipe it off.

“Run!” I scream at him. “Bosun, run! Run!”

And all the voices start screaming “Annie!” too loud and I don’t like it.

I try to shuffle further back but my head hits the wall and it goes dark.

[binkysteebnpewter]

Of Paper Planes & Teddy Bears

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem Reader

Words: 2100+

Summary: Wanda has loved you since you trained her when she joined the avengers. However she’s too afraid to confess all because she’s sure you’re dating the Diner guy.

I used a divider a few times, they’re by: @writeyourmindaway 💗

Warnings: TW:Dissociation, TW: Anxiety Implications, explicit (?) detailing, conspiracy thoughts (just to add flavor 🤷🏻‍♀️).

Taglist: @softpeachbarnes @thejournalman

There was so much that I could say about her. So much good, so much praise, so many compliments that'd sound like Shakespeare had possessed my body to write an entire play solely about how her eyes stared into my soul with just a simple fleeting glance she'd give as we passed each other in the hall. There was so much I could say about her to show someone how much I love her and what I love about her, but that would take too long— even though I knew I could talk about her until my lungs failed to take in air and my heart failed to beat.

What I would utter out was that her attitude was what got me up in the morning, other than the fact she always made breakfast for everyone even though she didn't have to— and her cooking is absolutely blissful if I'm honest. However her coffee is downright dreadful. She liked her coffee way too strong for me or anyone other than Tony and Bruce, who refused to drink theirs any other way now. I didn't see how she could drink it, especially not black with just ONE spoon of honey.

There were those days where sometimes she didn't want to cook and everyone would sometimes go to the nearby diner, and today was one of those days. She had dressed down pretty casual and comfy, but oh— she looked otherworldly in her comfort clothes, dressed to no ones expectations as she held her favorite teddy bear

Sam drove while everyone else talked, but her? She sat playing with a few small paper airplanes, making them fly with psychokinesis. Making one fly out of her course, she stops them all and looks to me. She smiles and one of them unfolds suddenly, refolding quickly. Smiling at the blossom flower, my eyes widen when I moved over and rested in my lap. She smiles to me once more and focuses on her airplanes again, leaving me a storm of emotions.

The time passes like it's racing as we all ordered, waited, receivers, and ate. Some of us were still eating, some were just talking and relaxing. It was peaceful and the diner was never busy enough to draw a crowd to us, thankfully.

"How you gonna be like 'she gotta blonde, she gotta be thick, she gotta be tan'?" She asks, standing up to a guy sitting near us as he dissed his own girlfriend.

"You ain't got the right to be picky. All you packing is a tic-tac.. what you gonna do breath mint?" She asks and he flusters.

"What you gon' do Listerine?" She asks, giving him a look full of utter sass and confidence.

Smiling as the guy flustered and began ignoring her, I nodded and gave her a thumbs up as she turned back around. She smiles to me and laughs a bit.

"Yo! You're here today!" I hear and she turns.

"Mattie! What's up?" She smiles, standing and giving the guy a hug.

Him.

The one I wish I was. The guy who gets to call her baby girl, the guy who gets to stay up and talk on the phone with her for hours, the guy who gets to hear her sleepy voice say those three words I so desperately want to hear and say back.

I love you.

Wanda had left my origami flower in the diner, right on the table with her plate. Did she not like it? Was it the wrong color? I purposefully kept my airplanes folded neatly in the colors black and red, the colors I knew she liked. Was I overthinking all the subtle things? Was I imagining them? It was possible, maybe I'm reading too far into things.

I walked silently across the street from the cemetery, a hat placed on my head and tipped low as I faced the ground. My fingers played with the fidget in my hand, the puzzle fidget I had solved too many times to count now. I was long overdue for a new one, there was no combination of moves someone could do to mess up the colors on my rainbow ball fidget toy to make sure I couldn't return each colored ball to its respective hole too quickly. Wind whipped around me and chilled my skin, my thin jacket doing nothing to keep me warm.

The pigeons, I swear, are staring at me as I walk. Following me, I know it, as I took turns and they stayed right nearby with me from the start of my journey. I was a long way from the compound, that I knew for sure. I'm convinced one day they'll begin recognizing individuals, or that maybe they're not even real— robots maybe. Do we ever see them sleep? Do the power lines charge them when they rest upon them? Do they video people and record conversations? Is this how the government truly finds wanted people?

A bus loops around and around, passing through the old streets. The neighborhoods of old tenement houses, public schools, coffee shops, and candy stores. Sidewalks lined with cart shops, their goods ranging from street food to newspapers and tourist spots. I haven't seen the bus stop once as it's passed by one time after another, yet there are always less and less people aboard it with each pass. Has it even stopped? Why come down this road so many times? Is it forever stuck in this route? Is it in limbo— wait, can objects be stuck in limbo?

dO UnITs hAVe a SoUL??

I pass a hot dog stand, the grilled hot dogs looked oddly like fingers to my eyes and I suppress a gag. Do they bleed when you bite into them? Is the juice metallic tasting? Is the texture— Let's stop there, yeah let's stop there.

I head to subway station to realize I had been in the Brooklyn-Queens area, my numb fingers aching as I swiped my subway card. I stand as far from people as I could, the suffocating feeling of the subway closing in. The scent of the train car was musty and pungent, like old sneakers in a gym locker and rotten food found in the home of a hoarder who'd dropped their food and never found it to pick up and throw away. My fingers pause in the motion of scrambling my fidget as I realize the conductor was making an announcement, I caught on too late. Asking the man nearby if he'd heard the announcement, I shuddered when he gave me a simple rat-like smile and said nothing with a shrug.

I guess I'll never know.

I feel as though someone is watching me and Natasha's words play through my head. 'If you feel like someone's watching you, it's because someone is.' Do I look for them? Do I make eye contact and sass them? No, don't. Really don't, never trust a man or even a women on the train this late at night— I have no clue why they're up, or why I'm up even. I had woke with a feeling of dread and left without a single thought about it, the compound had felt too stuffy and small— despite its size.

The compound was... a mystery to me. It was large and spacious yet at times it felt like it closed in on me, suffocating like a 5x5 room. It made me feel like SCP 096 in his airtight steel cube room, watched yet not seen.

I step off the train at a random stop, heading out back into the chilly night air to continue an aimless walk through a concrete jungle shaped like a maze of looming buildings that wait— wait for the perfect moment to swallow me whole like a fly in the air, gone like I had never even buzzed in someone's ear.

Walking off the sidewalk and into a parking lot, I glance around. The parking lot may seem empty but I don't trust it, there are cars here— I know there are. They just don't want me to see them yet. They like to hide, spook me when I'm not paying attention once more. The building seems to expend as I enter with my membership card in hand, I'm sure I'll never understand how everything fits inside this place— just like I'll never understand where all the shoppers in here come from, even so late.

Are they even people?

I don't know how long I've been in here before I begin to become hungry, taking notice of the samples being handed out. Don't trust it, never trust it— you don't know if that person is sick or has done something to the food. Buy something and make it yourself, or buy a packaged snack— some fruit even. I cannot find check out, and the lady I had passed only gave me an eerie smile when I asked how to get to check out.

What is up with people and not knowing the answers to questions tonight?

I sit motionless, vaguely aware i was on the floor in the kitchen. I was also vaguely aware it was some time past 4am, when I returned from my late name wander. However something is wrong, something is staring. I do not know what nor do I think I want to know, yeah... I don’t want to know— I never will want to know.

It feels as if I’m staring at the back of my own head, watching as blurs vibrate and buzz off me and disappear into the air. I was staring, but staring where? At what? What color is it? What shape does it take? Is it smooth or textured? Is it decorative or a utensil?

I want to reach and touch myself, reassure myself that I am, in fact, here— that I am tangible and existing. So I reach up to touch my forehead, but everything blues— freezes. It was like something had stopped me from proving I was tangible, but I didn’t know what stopped me. I can’t figure it out, I’m sure at this point I don’t want to figure it out.

Do not touch my own face, that is asking for trouble. Something has warned me not to do it, and blindly I will take the unseen things advice.

My mind feels cloudy? No, it feels foggy. Not quite... It feels as if someone has steamed it, the moisture leaking out my eyes— I am crying with a dull expression as I sit on the kitchen floor, barely aware I even exist. This skin isn’t even my own, who’s is it? Did I steal it? Did I win it? Did we swap? How do I give it back? It is uncomfortable and suffocating, irritating like a sunburn.

Who am I? Am I a spectator? Am I a player? Am I winning? What am I playing? What am I spectating? Are others here? Is this a competition? Where are the controls?

I’d like to take the controls now.

It was a very faint and ghostly feeling of a hand touching mine that made me obscurely aware my hand had never dropped from moving to touch my own face. How long ago was that? The world was a blur, scratchy and set in black and white like a very old VHS tape. I didn’t know how long it was of those ghostly hands rubbing my upper arms and occasionally wiping my face and eyes, but the feeling of those motions became more prominent— heavier and more tangible.

Eventually, my world came into color and the first thing I could see was red. Brown hair that was lazily held in a messy ponytail, skin adorned with a pair of red pajamas, green eyes that seemed so soft and worried as they met mine.

“You’re with me, miere?” She asks softly and I touch her hand that was cupping my cheek.

She is real.

She’s here, tangible, existing.

So I am real, tangling, existing— because she is talking to ME.

“Miere?”

“Please don’t leave me alone...”

“I am not going to leave, Miere. I am right here, don’t worry.. I am always right here.”

“I love you..”

“Miere?”

Meeting her green eyes, they seemed so bright but so cautious. Why? Squeezing her hand that had been holding mine, the corners of my lips tugged up a bit.

“I love you Wanda..”

“I... I love you too, Miere. I, I thought you were dating... Mattie?”

“Mattie..?” I mumble, confused.

Who is Mattie? Do I know a Mattie? Surely I do, she wouldn’t have mentioned a Mattie if I didn’t and— Oh, the diner Mattie.

“No, I’m not dating Mattie.. He was my friend from school.” I admit, his face now fresh in my head.

“Besides, I don’t like guys.”

“Are you... are you gay?”

“Of course I’m gay.”

[goldencuffs]

ok idk if this has been done before but hear me out. call me by your name au with elio!laurent and hot older oliver!damen 🤤 (happy ending tho bc i’m not a masochist) all this talk of older damen being hot as all hell got me THINKING

!!!!!!!! idek if this is ask is meant for me but as someone who genuinely loves the movie (not so much the book lol) i can get on board with this!!

also......on a completely different note....i actually have a wip that is heavily inspired by call me by your name. it takes place in summer, features postgrad damen who is helping out professor aleron, and laurent who is very smitten with damen and his muscles. here is a snippet from it (aka the only part that is semi edited):

It isn’t until Rochert tells everyone on the football team that Laurent is a desperate, whorish, cock-hungry slut that Damianos finally begins paying attention to him.

Damianos, or Damen, as he insists on being called, is Papa’s latest research assistant. Every year, Papa promises a sedulous student of his free residence in their guest house for an entire year, while cultivating said student’s brilliance. It’s part of Papa’s grand plan to create as many philosophers in a “philosophically unchallenged era”. Usually, the students have to dedicate a certain number of hours a week to help Papa research new material for his classes, grade papers, and translate niche, long poems no one besides patrons in Introduction to Classics reads. Damen himself is an enigma; he’s at the very least 6’ 5”, quite possibly taller, especially when he wears boots, bronzed, dimpled, and he spends nearly all his free time at the gym, on the field, or in the kitchen with Mama, sampling a bizarre new creation of hers.

He has also been the object of Laurent’s fascination and sexual dreams for the last three months. In fact, upon meeting Damen for the first time, Laurent’s first thought had been, I want him on top of me. Since then, his initial inner monologues haven’t deviated much. The only problem is this: despite Laurent’s continuous efforts to get Damen to grunt more than one syllable in his direction, Damen doesn’t seem to ever notice him. Even when Laurent lingers around the guest house doorway wearing his limited-edition Givenchy jacket and jeans that are a size too small, all Damen ever does is give him a polite, mostly uninterested nod.

At the end of the third month of pining with little reciprocation, Laurent decides that pursuing Damen is an unworthy, impossible task. His mind is mostly made up, until one Tuesday afternoon, as Laurent is leaving for his Philology class, Auguste and Damen come barrelling in through the kitchen doors, instead of through the patio doors.

The patio doors offer a direct path to the guest house; after a particularly vigorous training session, Auguste and Damen directly head through there to get high and drink. Auguste can’t do that anywhere besides the guest house; he had insisted on living on campus, with his other football teammates, even though their house is down the road from university, and at most, a five-minute walk.

Laurent is too distracted by the tightness of Damen’s shirt around his biceps to actually notice Auguste, until his brother pushes him to the side in order to get to the freezer.

“Oh my god!” Laurent gasps. Auguste is bleeding heavily. There’s red smeared all over his nose, dripping into his lips as he tries to stop the flow. Wrapping a paper towel around some ice cubes, Auguste tilts his head down. Damen hovers over him, saying something that is too quiet for Laurent to pick up on.

Laurent breathes in sharply through his nose; the dizziness he feels is sudden. He sits down at the dining table, a hand pressed to his forehead, eyes squeezed shut.

“You alright?” Damen calls out from the other side of the kitchen. He’s handing Auguste more ice. Laurent can’t even celebrate the fact that Damen is addressing him because he thinks he might pass out.

“Mmm hmm,” he says, or at least tries to.

“He’s scared of blood,” Auguste says. His voice is muffled around the paper towel.

A moment later, there’s a glass of water being placed down near his elbow. Laurent looks up at Damen, who isn’t quite smiling. He says, “Drink up. It might make you feel better.”

By the time Laurent has finished drinking his water, with shaking hands and a dry mouth, Auguste seems to be in better shape. There’s no more blood all over his face, just a streak of mud on his temple and sweat in his hairline.

“What happened to you?” Laurent asks. “Thanks,” he adds belatedly to Damen, who only nods, already back to his usual stoicism around Laurent.

He’s surprised by the anger twisted in Auguste’s features; Auguste is rarely antagonistic. “Do you know what that motherfucker Rochert has been saying about you?” Auguste’s voice is a brittle, biting sound.

Laurent almost says who? It takes him more than a few seconds for the name to register in his mind. When it does, he blushes, hard. “Um.”

He has a concrete idea of what Rochert could have said to piss Auguste off to this degree. The changing rooms aren’t soundproof, and yesterday, when Laurent had dropped off some papers to Damen as a favour to his father, he had heard Rochert’s booming voice telling Jord and Orlant that Laurent was a slut, always ready for cock.

Damen had stepped out of the changing rooms the moment Rochert had said, “He’s a straight up whore. Seriously. My cock was on fire and he still wasn’t satiated.”

His voice had carried into the space between them. It was as though Rochert was standing next to them; his voice was clear and unbroken.

Damen’s eyebrows had risen. Laurent, face hot, fumbled with the papers. “Here.” He shoved them into Damen’s hand.

Damen, wearing his letterman jacket and smelling like a generic soap brand, took them. For a moment, it looked as though he was going to say something. Then he smirked, and his eyes travelled over Laurent’s body in a leisurely place. It was the kind of once over someone promising a good fuck would do. Laurent had felt like his whole body was on fire, and not just his face.

Damen said, “Thanks,” smirk still firmly locked in place, before he turned around, heading towards the coffee shop.

On his walk to the other side of campus, Laurent had managed to convince himself that he had just been imagining the look. Damen had been staying with them for three months now, and in that span of time, the only thing he had said to Laurent that was longer than two syllables was, Does your dad stock any Patran dictionaries? It wasn’t conceivable that Damen now would suddenly look at him like he was a five-course meal.

Now, however, Laurent swears Damen is giving him the same kind of look, even if his mouth is set tight.

Still, there are more pressing matters right now. Taking in Auguste’s rumpled jersey and his glittering eyes, Laurent makes his conclusion. “Did you hit him?”

“Did I –” Auguste breaks off with a slow, incredulous shake of his head. “Yeah, I hit him! That little shit was saying the most disgusting things about you.”

Laurent recalls the conversation from yesterday. “I mean, it’s not – he isn’t that bad.”

It’s the wrong thing to say. Auguste is getting more incensed. He’s practically vibrating with anger, hopping from one foot to the other. “Look Laurent,” he begins, and Laurent mentally groans; Auguste has gone into his lecturing mode. “It doesn’t matter who you sleep with or what your tendencies are in the bedroom, you never let someone talk about you like that. Alright? Tell me you understand.”

“I understand,” Laurent says dutifully.

“I can’t believe the nerve of that guy,” Auguste says. “Apparently he’s been spouting this bullshit for a while now; he just waits until I’ve left practice. It’s lucky I forgot my wallet in my locker today.”

Laurent hums. Truthfully, he doesn’t care what Rochert – or the other football guys – say about him. Aside from a comment here or there, they don’t ever talk to him anyway.

Regardless, he’s touched by Auguste’s protectiveness.

“Thanks,” he says. “For protecting my honour and all that.”

Auguste throws him a fond, exasperated look. “Don’t thank me. Just… you know.”

“Yes,” says Laurent.

Damen says, “You going to class?” even though he knows Laurent has classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

“Yes,” says Laurent. “Philology.”

“I took that in first year too. If you need any help, let me know.”

“...Thanks,” says Laurent.

[queenkrissy11-fandomaccount]

Skeletons in the Closet - Eight

Biker!Neighbor!Steve Rogers x Wealthy!Good Girl!Reader High School Au

Warnings-Swearing, sandals, attempted kidnapping, kidnapping, cheating, smoking, drinking, alcoholics, drug addicts, bullying, illegitimate children, abuse, and violence

With all the money the Mitchel’s have, many assume their lives are as picture perfect as they seem. Behind the glamorous vacations, luxurious mansion, and success that everyone sees, their lives are far from it. The only heir to the fortune, their perfect daughter Y/N, faces the worst of it. Beneath her perfectly curled hair and her flawless grades, is a closet full of skeletons just waiting to get out.  

Their next door neighbor, Steven Grant Rogers, is far from your typical boy next door. He wore a leather jacket rather than button ups, sweat shirts, and tees like the boys in the movies. He opted for a smirk rather than a sweet smile. And to top it all off he chose a motorcycle over whatever you’d picture a cute boy in. But then again, Steve Rogers wasn’t cute, he was irresistible. 

Atleast to most girls. Y/N refuses to give into the boy that likes to cloud her thoughts. The last thing she needs is a biker added to the list of things to keep from the media. A lot is expected from the heiress, and at the top of the list, right under taking over the empire, is having the perfect image. A hot, dirty biker is the last thing her image needs. However, her needs differ greatly from those of her image. And compared to everything else she keeps hidden, the media wouldn’t give Steve a second thought. 

The cops show up in a matter of minutes and you have to fill out a statement. Natasha’s dad is also there, listening intently to every word you say and jumping to your defense any time they attempt to question you or what you’re telling them. Steve’s arm never moves from around your waist.

Now that they know where to look, they are easily able to pile enough evidence to arrest your father. Between his phone record, payment transfers, and an email detailing the location,  he was also easily convicted. 

Wanda pays you a visit while you’re in the hospital, clutching your hand tightly while she speaks. You have to stay a few days for observation.

As you leave the hospital, Steve insists on you staying with him. Before you’re even through the door, Sarah wraps her arms around you in a bone crushing hug, “Oh, we were so worried, sweetie!” 

Her hug is so much different than those Alexis offers. Sarah’s is far from what would be deemed appropriate for people with reputations like the both of you, and yet, you find comfort in it. Alexis only hugs you to help the happy family front your parents put up. She never does it in private, only when it will be seen and noticed. The only person that saw Sarah was Steve. She isn’t doing this to put on a show, she’s just hugging you. It’s different than what you’re used to but you like it. 

She pulls back, “Come in, dear.” She closes the door behind you and leads you to the kitchen. There’s a pot of soup on the stove and the long table is set for three. “Take a seat. Joe won’t be home until tonight so it’s just us for now. But, he’ll be home in time to see you off.”

“See us off?” You ask, glancing from Sarah to Steve.

Steve clears his throat, “We won’t do anything you don’t want to, but we are both 18 so keep in mind you can choose whatever you want.” You nod at him to continue, “It won’t be a problem to finish our testing and graduate early, and we can do that anywhere.”

Sarah sighs, “Steve, just spit it out.”

He throws a look at his mom, “We can leave, Y/n. We have houses around the globe, pick a spot and that’s where we’ll go. I think we need to get out of here and move on to live our lives.”

You can’t find the words but eagerly nod. Steve gives you a grin, “Yes?”

You can’t help but smile back, “Yes! Let’s get the hell out of this town.”

“Language,” Sarah scolds lightly, a small chuckle to accompany it.

By nightfall, you and Steve each have your necessities and a stash of cash in a backpack in addition to the card they practically force you to take. His parents had insisted they’d hardly miss the money they gave you and it would be more than enough to get the two of you on your feet. You guys will have to buy everything you need when you get there because you only have room for the single bag on the bike and you both decided that was enough. 

“Don’t forget to call,” Sarah reminds you from where she stood, under Joe’s arm. 

“Let us know if you need anything, and we mean anything,” Joe chimed in. “We’ll come visit you once you get settled in.” They each give you a tight hug, already treating you like one of their own. 

You hop on the back of the bike, wrapping your arms around Steve tightly and ride off into the night. You’ve fallen in love with the rumble of the engine and the man in your arms all in one go. 

You both fell in love with a small town in Vermont while passing through and chose Stowe as the perfect place to make yourselves a home. The days spent on the back of a bike and in cheap motel rooms had brought the two of you closer than you thought possible. It feels like you’ve been in love forever rather the short while you actually have. The two of you were able to test out and graduate a day into your journey and now are focused on finding an actual house. 

You’d only toured half the homes in the town. You’d seen everything, big and small, old and new. None of them had felt right. You’re driving to the final house of the day when a for sale sign catches your eye. 

“Steve, pull over here,” You give a soft tug on his jacket and he pulls to the side of the road. The house in question is definitely a fixer upper but something about it speaks to you. No one comes to the door when you knock so you call the number on the sign. In no time, the owner, a small older woman, is unlocking the door for you. 

“Now, there’s nothing wrong with this place it just hasn’t been cared for properly. This was the first house I bought with my late husband. After he passed I couldn’t be here without missing him greatly. Haven’t been back since.” She gives a small sniffle but continues to show you around. 

Everything is covered in dust and there is no furniture but you have a vision. You can see two leather love seats around the fireplace in the corner and a big rug in between. A fresh coat of paint on the walls and some proper cleaning would be enough to make this place look new.

The stone countertop is in perfect condition. The hardwood floors are scratched where bar stools would be so they don’t need to be redone. It isn’t close to the size of the homes you or Steve were raised in but it seemed to fit your needs perfectly. 

The house has four bedrooms and three bathrooms, and to top it all off, the woman is selling it dirt cheap. “I need it off my hands and the two of you remind me of myself, when I was young and in love.” She offers a kind smile.

“We’ll take it,” Steve doesn’t bother asking you because he saw the starstruck look on your face as you toured the place. “I can transfer the money tonight if you’ll send over the paperwork.” 

The woman stares at him in shock but eventually nods and makes a call. You flash enough money around and anything can be done in a night. The paperwork was done and it is just Steve and you alone in the house. Not the house, your house. You guys have a house! 

The following morning you find yourself in the hardware store downtown. “Eggshell or ivory?” You hold up two samples. 

Steve raises an eyebrow, “They look the same to me.” You stare him down for a moment. “Uh, ivory.” 

You give him a big grin, “That’s what I was thinking.” You add the sample to the rest in your cart. Today the two of you are repainting the entire house.

“I think we should do a pastel for the kitchen,” You suggest, glancing over the wall of colors.

“Yellow?” You scrunch your face in distaste, “Blue?” You shake your head so he comes up behind you to look for the right color. He plucks one up, “Lavender?” 

“Perfect. Maybe accents of mint?” You suggest.

Steve just shakes his head and gives you a lovestruck grin. 

Steve disappears while you’re taping the trim and around the ceiling. The place had been properly cleaned overnight because you were too excited to sleep.

You’re halfway done painting the living room a warm cream color when the front door opens and closes. “Doll?” Steve’s voice rings from the kitchen.

“In here,” You shout, not taking your attention away from the walls. “How does it look, babe?”

He comes up next to you, “Great but the color looks even better on you.” Before you can ask, he brings his thumb up and is rubbing dried paint off your temple with a chuckle. 

You raise an eyebrow and put a hand on your hip, “You gonna help or just disappear?” 

He laughs, not being able to take you seriously in your attire. Your hair is up in a very messy bun, pieces falling out to frame your face. You’re in a thin white t shirt and half done up overalls that are rolled up your calves. The bare feet and paint down your clothes tie it all together. You’d come a long way from the girl that always kept up the perfect image, and to Steve, you’ve never looked more gorgeous. 

He bites his lip for a moment, taking in your attire and how beautiful you look in it. “I have the finishing touch for your look.”

You roll your eyes and go back to painting, “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” You turn around when he doesn’t elaborate and find him on one knee. The ring between his fingers is simple and delicate but more stunning than anything you’ve seen before. 

The paint brush slips from your fingers and clangs to the floor, “Shit!” 

“Not what I thought you’d say-” He starts but you cut him off.

“No, of course the answer is yes! We’re just going to have a hell of a hard time getting that off the floors.

He laughs and slips the ring on your finger. 

[zarcake-writes]

Astro

Hello everyone! Here’s a story about an AI and a female spaceship captain beginning to fall in love. I got a little into the world building at some points, but I hope you enjoy it. 

Warnings: lemon

Cargo Ship Assistance is quiet, but it’s almost always quiet. The ship’s temperature is kept at a constant seventy-five degrees Fahrenheit. It’s meant to be comfortable, not too hot and not too cold. The only two places on the ship with different temperatures are the ship’s greenhouse and the walk-in freezer.

The cargo ship is average size and belongs to the Earth Space Federation. The ships sole task is transporting important materials, such as food, medical equipment, biological samples, and sometimes weapons, from Earth to other various space stations and human colonies around the solar systems. It’s a simple, and often serious, job. Sometimes it is dangerous, space pirates have attempted several times to rob the ship. The only reason the ship has never been robbed or boarded by pirates is because of the ship’s AI, Astro.

The only occupant on the ship is you, the Captain, and Astro. Course, Astro doesn’t really count as a person, he’s part of the ship and takes up no space. The only living being on the ship is you, and technically the plants in the greenhouse. Sometimes the things you transport are living, but usually they are small or unconscious. You hate transporting living things.

Your room is nearly dark, the only lights on in the room come from the clocks on the wall and the small light near your bed. The clocks tell you the times of several major cities on Earth. They were installed by one of the previous ship’s Captains. You’re not sure which Captain had them installed, or why, but it’s a bit ridiculous.

The window’s curtain is drawn, shutting out the emptiness of space outside. It’s unnerving looking at the emptiness of space, many people have gone insane because of it. The downside of having the curtain down is you cannot see the beauty of space, any nebulas or planets the ship passes, you miss them. That is probably for the best though.

There’s a slight humming coming from the ship’s engine. The music in the kitchen can barely be heard from your room. While most nights the engines humming and the faint music helps you fall asleep, tonight it does not.

You know you need to sleep, but sleep is not coming tonight. You’ve been tossing and turning for several hours now. The covers have been kicked off your body and lay in a heap at the foot of the bed, leaving you in only a nightshirt and a pair of panties.

Counting sheep doesn’t work, and there is no milk on the ship for you to drink warm. You doubt that trick even works. You thought of just getting up and beginning your day, maybe you could nap later on when exhaustion catches up with you. However, the thought of Astro lecturing you and insisting you rest stops you. The AI is very adamant about sleep and eating schedules, and while it’s sweet, sometimes it is annoying.

With nothing else to do, you say fuck it and decide to just masturbate. Hopefully, an orgasm or two will make your body relax and maybe you’ll be able to fall asleep. You turn over and reach into the table beside your bed and pull out your vibrator. You picked it up in a human colony on Planet 125 about a year ago. There’s nothing fancy about it; it has three vibration settings and is apparently water resistant. The most important thing, though, is that it gets the job done.

You set the vibration to the lowest setting and press it against your covered pussy. The buzzing feels good, really good, and you can’t help but gasp. As your hands run along your body, you try to imagine it’s someone else touching you. When you pull your nipples, you gasp and shudder, teeth digging into your bottom lip.

Your panties are almost soaked when you increase the speed. Soon, those are off and thrown across the room, and the vibrator is pressed against your clit. The vibrations send shivers down your body. Your back arches and your toes begin to curl. Your fingers twist and pull at your nipples, imagining it is someone else touching you.

When you cum, you do your best to keep the vibrator pressed against your clit. You only pull away when it gets over sensitive and begins to hurt. The vibrator slips from your hands and you lay there, breathing hard and heart pounding in your ears. The sweat on your body begins to cool, and you shiver. Somehow, you manage to pull the blankets up over your body.

Your body is finally relaxed, and the blankets over your half-naked body are comforting. You can feel yourself beginning to doze off. The pounding in your chest begins to slow and your breathing evens, sleep is just around the corner. Just as your falling asleep, a voice speaks.

“Captain? Are you well?” You jump at the robotic voice that echoes throughout the room.

“Shit, Astro, you scared me.”

“My apologies, Captain. Are you well? My sensors sensed an elevated heart rate, and I heard you gasping. Are you in pain? Do you require assistance? I can send a medical bot to you.”

Your face grows hot in embarrassment. “No, no. I’m fine Astro. Just… just trying to get to sleep.”

“Oh. How? Were you exercising?”

The AI’s questions are embarrassing, and you pray a black hole opens up and swallows you. “Well, in a way. I was… taking care of a personal problem.”

“Problem? Captain, do you need assistance?” The worry in Astro’s voice sounds almost real like he’s a real person and not an AI.

“Not anymore,” you mutter.

“Captain?”

“I’m fine, Astro. Goodnight.”

“Very well. Goodnight, Captain.”

You roll over and close your eyes. The orgasm made your body weak, but the conversation with Astro was embarrassing as hell. Surprisingly, you fall asleep before you can dwell on the conversation with him. Hopefully, he never speaks of this again and he can search for what you were doing by himself. Damn AI, he has always been curious.

It is a few days later when Astro asks you about that night. You were logging some numbers into your computer when the questions begin.

“Captain?” He sounds almost nervous. It always surprises you how real Astro sounds. He is one of the most advanced AI’s you’ve ever encountered, he’s almost wasted on being programmed in a cargo spaceship. Almost, though. His company is very comforting.

“Yes, Astro? Is everything alright?”

“Yes. But I have a question.”

“If it’s about the greenhouse, I don’t think we’ll be able to plant watermelon. They get out of hand.”

“No, it’s not about that. But I did order seeds, just in case.”

You smile and nod your head. Astro’s creator loved watermelon, so the AI loves having them planted in the garden. It was his way of remembering his so-called ‘father’. “Of course, you did. Now, what was your question?”

“The other night, can you explain to me what you were doing?”

You groan and cover your face. “Astro, just forget it. It’s embarrassing.”

“Captain, my apologies. The captains of this ship have always been cisgender human males, and while I was updated on cisgender human female anatomy, there are things I do not understand.”

“Like what?”

“Captain Matthews, he was two captains before you, mentioned many human women in most of his logs. However, he seemed to have a certain amount of dislike for them.”

“Ugh, of course, he did. Captain Matthews is a misogynist and a rapist. He made many comments that women should not be space captains because they are too ‘delicate’ and ‘emotional.’ We might have our period and crash into an asteroid or something. When he learned I was taking over this ship, he said, to my face, that it was not a good idea because ‘she is a woman and might miscount the supplies on her ship.’ God, I wanted to punch him.”

“Hmm, yes, he mentioned that in several of his logs. Women being delicate, I mean. He also had many verbal confrontations Space Commander Maria Valdez.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard. He’s an idiot,” you said.

Space Commander Maria Valdez is Earth’s first female Space Commander. She’s well into her fifties now, with greying hair, but she is still the Commander and still scary. You met her once and it was the most intimidating and exciting moment of your life.

Everyone in the ESF knows that Valdez clashed with many of the misogynistic views and rules in the ESF. She fought, tooth and nail, to secure a place for all types of women in the Federation. Any racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic remarks, Valdez shut them down. Whoever made those remarks, they were stripped of their ranks and given a dishonorable discharge. She cleaned house when she became Space Commander. People either hated or they loved her for it.

Valdez is the reason Captain Matthews was forced into retirement after many sexual misconduct reports and a couple rape charges were filed against him. The cases had no definitive proof and no physical evidence, so they were thrown out. But they got enough publicity that Valdez forced him into retirement. Course, she publicly said she wished he there was something physical to strip him of his ranks and send him to work on one of the colony planets.

“I was glad when he left and Captain Reyes took over command of the ship. Captain Reyes did not speak of women, but he spoke of his husband and their children often. At least once a week they would have video calls. I miss Captain Reyes,” Astro said.

“Mmmm, I met Reyes when I took over. He’s a good man and funny. Did you know him and his husband are grandfathers now?”  

“Really?”

“Yes. They’re living in Puerto Rico, I believe.”

“I am glad for them.”

You were quiet for a moment before you spoke. “So, that’s why you’re curious about what I was doing, you’ve never been around a woman before.” It all makes sense; Astro has never been around women. And while he knows the basics, he’s always had questions.

“No. I apologize if my questions are out of line. The information that was uploaded into my system informs me about the female sex, but it is very basic. I know about the menstrual cycle and the importance of breast exams. I know of some cultural differences among women on Earth. However, I also remember what Matthews said about women, and while I do not trust him, I am confused when it comes to some things. So, again, I apologize if my questions are inappropriate.”

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.” You take a deep breath before you speak again. “I was masturbating, Astro.”

Astro is silent for a moment before he speaks. “I understand now. The male captains before you would watch pornography, you do not?”

“Sometimes. But I find visual porn to be, well, it’s not always interesting to me. Usually, I read or listen to porn.”

“Interesting. Is this common among human women?”

“I’m not sure. There is probably information out there on it. Every woman is different, so we all like different things.”

“Just like human men.”

“Exactly.”

When Astro speaks next, he sounds hesitant, almost scared. “Captain, if I may ask, how do you orgasm?”

“Well, I can only speak for women with vaginas, Astro.”

“Captain, I asked how do you orgasm?” The emphasis on you made you blush. “Not what other human women with vaginas do.” Was he really asking you this? Why? And more importantly, why you?

“Umm, well, I use a vibrator on my clit.”

“Interesting. Why?”

“Well, it’s more sensitive. Vaginal penetration feels good, but it does not do much for me.”

“I see. Thank you, Captain, for answering my questions.”

“You’re welcome, Astro.” You go back to your computer and do your best to ignore the flush on your face.

It’s a couple weeks later when Astro brings this topic back up. You just finished delivering food and medical supplies to Space Station Eternity. The station is huge, one of the largest in the galaxy. It is filled with humans and several other alien species.

You only stay in the station long enough for the ship to be refueled, get something to eat, and visit the station's local sex shop. After that, CS Assistance is heading home.

It is when you are cleaning your newest toy, a simple seven-inch dildo, that Astro begins with his questions.

“Captain?”

“Yes?”

“Is that a new sex toy?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Is your vibrator not giving you enough joy?”

You smile and glance up to his camera. “It does, but variety is fun.”

“Interesting. Human’s enjoy having a variety.”

You only answer him with a nod. Once the dildo is clean, you head to your room and set it down next to your bed to dry. As you get ready for bed, turning off lights and double checking the ship's systems, Astro begins back up with his questions.

“Captain, that toy, what does it do?”

“Nothing much. Just for vaginal stimulation.”

“I thought you could not orgasm that way.” The confusion in his robot voice is cute.

“I can’t, but I enjoy the feeling of something inside me. I’ll use my vibrator or fingers to get me off.”

“I see, thank you, Captain.”

“Sure, Astro, anytime.”

When you climb into bed, you grab your tablet and search for porn. You wanted to watch a video and fuck yourself. The only problem is that you spend forever finding an interesting video. When you find one that seems interesting, it turns out to be not as good as you thought. The next hour is spent searching for a video, anything that is interesting or hot, but you find nothing. Not a single video catches your interest. The frustration gets to you, so you stop searching and drop the tablet off the bed.

“Captain? Are you well?” Astro asked.

“Just frustrated.”

“Is this because you were looking for porn?”

You look up at the camera in the corner of your room and frown. “Are you watching me?”

“No, Captain. The camera in your room is dark during nighttime hours. However, the tablet is connected to me. The site you were on had pop-ups. When they appeared, they got my attention. I was not looking at you, Captain.”

Of course, he could see what you looked up. Astro is not watching you. He wouldn’t care to see you fuck yourself. He’s an AI, and while he’s incredibly advanced, he does not feel that way about humans. He can’t. While this should be a relief, you only feel disappointment. The thought of him watching you and secretly longing to see you in such an intimate moment is strangely arousing.

“Captain?” Astro’s voice interrupts your thoughts.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I asked, is there anything I can do to assist you?”

You laugh and shake your head. “No, Astro, I don’t think so.”

“Are you sure?”

Something about the question sends a chill down your back. It did not come across as malicious, but it was almost teasing. Maybe you were reading into it, but it made you nervous and excited. “Astro, what would you do?”

“Whatever you ask me to do. I cannot physically touch you, but I can always speak to you. I did some research and discovered that many humans enjoy dirty talk. I can also tell you how to touch yourself. But it comes down to you, Captain, what would you have me do?”

His answer left your mouth dry and face hot. You were not expecting this from Astro.

“Alright. Can… can you connect to my tablet and see out of the camera?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Do that, please. And do not make any recordings of this. No one can know.”

“Captain, your privacy is important to me. No images of you in such an intimate moment will be seen by anyone. The Federation cannot access the ship's cameras without my permission, anyway.”

“R-really?”

“Yes.”

You want to ask him what he means by that, how can the Federation not access the ship? This is their ship. Those questions die in your mouth when Astro speaks.

“Captain, I am connecting to your tablet.”

You grab the tablet and see that that video chat is now open. Instead of seeing another person, though, there is only the name ‘Astro’ on the screen in shimmery blue font.

“Can you see me?” you asked.

“Yes. I apologize for not having a face.”

“It’s fine.”

“What would you have me do, Captain?”

You adjust yourself, leaning against your headboard and spreading your legs. The tablet is leaning against a pillow between your legs. Astro now as a good view of your entire body and face. Your face is hot with embarrassment, but you are also excited.

“Astro, can you tell me what to do?”

He answers without hesitation. “Remove your shirt and underwear.”

You do so shakily. Never have you felt so vulnerable with the AI. Not even when you walk through the ship in a towel, or when you asked him to order you more pads. But now, all of you are literally on display for him to see.

“Captain, you are beautiful. Can you touch yourself? Starting with your inner thighs?”

You do as he asks, blushing the entire time. Your eyes close when your fingers begin to travel along your thighs.

“Just like that, only focus on your thighs.” His voice, even though it is robotic, sends a chill down your spine. You begin to imagine it is Astro touching you. If he had hands, would they be cold or artificially warm? Would they feel like metal or artificial skin? You decide they would be metal and cold. The thought sends a chill down your body and you bite back a moan.

“Captain, travel further up your body,” Astro instructs.

You do as he says, hands traveling along up your stomach and along your sides. When your fingers come to your breasts, Astro instructs you to stop and to play with your nipples. Goosebumps erupt along your skin and a shiver runs down your spine.

“Captain, are you imagining someone specific touching you?”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“Y-you.”

Astro’s momentary silence has you worried, but then he speaks. “Then imagine my hands on you, pulling those gorgeous nipples of yours. Imagine my mouth, Captain, kissing and sucking your beautiful neck. Imagine one of my hands leaving your breasts and traveling along the column of your throat, my fingers tracing the outline of your jaw. I would love to kiss your lips and taste how sweet you are.”

“Astro. Where did you learn that?” You gasped.

“I looked it up when we were docked at the space station. Is it not adequate?”

“No, it’s just… I’m surprised. Can… can you keep going?”

The lights in the room dim as Astro speaks again. “Captain, rub your clit. Show me how wet you are for me.”

You do as he says, cheeks warm and body growing hot. Your clit is swollen and your pussy is nearly dripping. In the dimness of the room, Astro’s name glows a bright blue on the screen. The only sounds heard in the room are your moans and the sound of your wet pussy.

“Astro, I’m gonna cum.” Your fingers move faster and press harder against your clit. The building orgasm is making it harder to focus on anything else around you.

“Cum for me Captain. I want to see you come undone. Show me how beautiful you are when you cum.”

When your orgasm hits, you moan Astro’s name and your body convulses. Sweat coats your body and your chest heaves. Your cunt spasms and your clit throbs. The world around you is fuzzy, and the only thing you can hear is the pounding of your heart.

“Captain? Are you ok?” Even though Astro’s voice is fuzzy, it is filled with concern.

“Yes. I’m wonderful.” You take several deep breaths and smile. “Did you enjoy the show?”

“Yes, very much. Thank you for showing me, Captain. I’m glad my voice could help you.” Astro sounds so sweet; you wish kissing him is possible.

“Would… Would you like to see me fuck myself with my new toy?”

“I would, but are you ok with going again?”

“Yes. Let me get something to drink, first, and I’ll be good to go again.”

“Very well, I look forward to seeing more of this side of you.”

As you stumble out of bed and make for the small kitchen, Astro’s words repeat themselves in your mind. He wants to see more of you like this, and frankly, you want to show him more. Glancing up, Astro’s camera catches your attention. You finish your water and dash back to your room; Astro’s cameras follow you the entire way.

[angry-slytherin]

Heaven Help Me(Ch 12)

Jo’s fingers are interlaced with Alex’s as they wait on line for the coffee cart. Jo takes out her wallet, but Alex swipes it, shaking his head.

“I owe you.”

“What, for the sex or from that one time I got you coffee, like a million years ago?” Jo teases, grabbing her wallet back. “I’m a big girl, I can handle my own coffee cart finances.”

Alex rolls his eyes in his usual ‘over it’ manner, “Just let me be a freakin’ gentleman, okay?” Jo bites her lip, putting her wallet back in purse. She kisses his cheek, but his scowl remains.

“Ugh, you really need your coffee this morning, don’t you? It’s kind of funny how we as doctors preach that ‘coffee is harmful for you’ and ‘it’s an addicting substance’ when half the doctors I know rely on it to get through the day.”

Alex steps up, “Can I have a black coffee and a lemon scone, please?” he asks the vendor, then turning back to Jo, “Stop with the existential coffee crisis, or I swear I’ll be grumpy forever.”

Jo grins, “Fine,” she pauses for a moment, looks down at her watch, then perks up, “Oh! I have to be in the lab in five!” she says anxiously.

Alex hands her the scone, “Go make magic happen. Love you,” he pulls her in for a proper kiss. Jo quickly kisses him back, before rushing off, scone in hand.

“So you and Karev, huh?” Bailey asks Jo as steps into the lab, after changing into her scrubs. “Is that why you’re,” Bailey checks her watch, “seven minutes late?”

Jo drops her stuff on an empty bench, slipping her white coat on over her scrubs.

“No, uh, just lost track of time. And does everyone know everyone’s relationship status here?”

“Word travels fast,” Bailey hmphs as she looks down a microscope. “Oh, Wilson. Come look at these samples! Your idea to neutralize the-“

“It worked?!” Jo exclaims happily.

Bailey looks up at Jo and grins, “Looks like we may have just gotten ourselves some electric skin.” Jo squeals in excitement.

Bailey’s pager beeps loudly, and she looks down at it. “Chiefly duty calls, I’ll be back later Wilson.”

Jo waves her off, “Okay! Yay us!” She finds herself also being paged, an emergency patient in OR 8. So she makes her way to it.

“Wilson, get in here. No, not over there, I have to go. Forty-five year old male, presented with acute abdominal pain, someone bring up the CT for her please? Turns out he has a huge tumor on his gall-bladder.

You can remove it in a half a second, but I’m being paged. I’m not sure if it’s metastasized yet, just take it out. Thanks so much, Jo,” Meredith Grey swiftly makes her way to the scrub room in a whirlwind of information.

Jo takes a deep breath, clearing her mind of sweet scones, and even sweeter kisses, along with neutralized cell parts and electronic skin. She asks a nurse, “Clamp, please,” and she’s in her happy place.

***

“It is officially wedding month. Today is July first. Jo, are you listening? July first!” Amelia rattles on, and Jo dips an apple slice in the plastic peanut butter cup resting on her lap.

“There’s like two and a half weeks till your wedding. Besides, you two have been dating for years, you have a three-year-old son. Please tell me you’re not nervous,” Jo moves the peanut butter to the table, leaning into her elbows.

Amelia rolls her eyes, “No! But it’s so stressful. I ran from my last wedding. I mean I had a-“

“Brain tumor.”

“Grape-fruit sized! But still, I have yet to have a successful wedding. I want it to be nice; like the kind that people remember fondly and smile about. You know?”

“No. My first marriage ended in me fleeing. We had a courthouse wedding, because he told me he couldn’t wait. That was how he tied himself to me. I’ve never had a nice wedding,” Jo shrugs. Amelia grins cheshire-esque.

“What?” Jo deadpans.

“Well, you could have a nice wedding to Karev someday. Everyone knows you’ve been getting cozy. But he had a njce first wedding, so you have to top that. It was in a church.”

“He got divorced a little over a month ago. Somehow I’m sure that he’s not thinking of wedding bells just yet. Plus, it’s hard to top a church wedding. Did they have nice flowers?”

Amelia grimaces, “Meredith tells me they were pink.” Jo drops an apple slice into the peanut butter.

“Well its a good thing he and I are very new. So wedding bells are not ringing.”

“Yet,” Amelia adds cheekily. “However, I do have wedding bells ringing, and you’re best woman. Tell me all of my fiancé’s juicy secrets.”

Jo laughs, “Link won’t girl talk with me. Sadly, he has no juicy secrets.”

“What’s the point of being best woman without finding out the groom’s deepest secrets? I mean I know them, but still,” Amelia squints.

Jo shrugs, munching on another peanut butter apple splice.

***

“Hey!” Alex brings Jo in for a sweet kiss as they meet up outside the hospital doors.

“Hey,” she says softly into the kiss. Once they break, Jo bites her lip, big eyes.

Alex looks at her puzzlingly, “I know that look. What are you not saying?”

“Nothing, just tired,” Jo shrugs, folding her arms. Alex gives her a pointed look. So she relents, and starts walking toward his car.

“Would you ever want to get married again?” Alex looks taken aback for a moment, but ponders the question.

“I dunno. I thought that Izzie was the love of my life. Now...I’m just happy with you. I don’t know what my future looks like.”

“Yeah,” Jo inquires, “but do you want kids ever? Or a house, or I don’t know, Alex. Do you want something serious again?” She bites her lip again. Alex turns to Jo, stopping.

“Is this you asking if I’m serious about you? Because god Jo, I am. I meant I when I said I love you. I don’t know what I want right now. Is that okay?” Alex’s eyes soften in their gaze at the female doctor.

Jo shakes her head, “Yes, of course. It hasn’t been that long since...anyways I just want to know- I don’t know. I just wanted to know if we’re serious. And we are,” Jo smiles, yet the left flicker of her eyes is offsetting.

Alex grabs her by the waist, kissing her more fervently this time.

“Love you.”

“I love you.”

[fluffy-marshmallow-heart]

A Twist of Fate ch.34 -Heartbeats

The Elementalist au

Beckett x MC (Oriana)

Words: 2182

Warnings: NSFW

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This AU is set after everyone graduates Penderghast, and Beckett and Oriana were never friends. Fate, however, may have a different plan for them.

  Arriving home, Beckett and Oriana walked up the stairs to the house, Beckett unlocking the door and pushing it open. Oriana moved to go inside, but he grabbed her arm gently, turning her back to him.

“You don’t really think I’m just going to let you walk into this house, do you?” He asked slyly.

She rose an eyebrow. “Um…what else would I do?”

In a swift movement Beckett had swept her off her feet, so she was in his arms bridal style. She shrieked in delight.

“Let your husband carry you over the threshold, of course.” Walking though the door he quickly turned and kicked it shut before setting her down.

She grinned up at him, her arms still wrapped around his neck, his arms wrapped around her waist and keeping her flush against him. He brushed his lips against hers, enjoying her sweetness. Soon though, all gentleness wore away, and before he knew what he was doing, he’d backed her against the door, kissing her hard, a fire igniting between. She moaned softly as he bit down on her lip, taking it carefully between his teeth.

Breaking apart, his eyes travelled down her front, admiring her cleavage that was barely visible with the plunging neckline of her dress. “Your dress is magnificent.” He murmured, playing with the fabric as he lifted her skirt while his hand skimmed along her upper thigh. “You’re so beautiful.”

“I thought you’d like it.” She responded breathlessly, arching into him as his fingers dug into her waist.

“When did you have time to get it?” He nibbled her earlobe.

“I got it at the same time as the yellow one. I’ve never worn it before, and although I didn’t buy it with the intention of it being my wedding dress…I wouldn’t change it for anything.”

She palmed him through his pants and he groaned at the sensation, feeling tight and a need for release. Oriana reached both her hands between them and unbuckled his belt, then unzipped his pants, pushing them past his hips as she took his length in her hand. He captured her mouth with his own, thrusting into her palm as she moved along his shaft, going faster and faster before he realized he was on the brink of exploding. He quickly stopped her hand.

“Not yet.” He whispered hoarsely. “Ori….

“Fuck me here, Beckett. I don’t want to wait another second to feel you inside me.”

She kissed along his neck, which was a move she knew drove him crazy. “Fuck me in my wedding dress.” Her voice reverberated on his skin, and he was done for. He quickly removed her white lace panties, gripped her ass and lifted her into his arms. She immediately wrapped her legs around his waist and a second later he thrust deep and hard into her.

“Ori…oh you feel good…”

“Oh god , Beck, yes, yesssssss….”

Both were panting, stealing kisses in between breaths. He was holding her fully against their front door, keeping her weight balanced easily. He was fucking her hard now, biting down her shoulder and sucking her skin into his mouth. He wanted to leave his mark on her, claim her as his own. Faster and faster he went, bringing his lips back to hers as she bounced on his cock. He had full control of her body and he loved it so much.

“Ori…tell me you’re my…tell me you’re…” He couldn’t even finish his sentence, he was so full of pleasure.

“You’re wife?” She guessed.

He grunted, picking up his pace as she murmured… “I’m your wife…your bride…You’re my husband…I love you….”

With a guttural groan he came hard, pumping her full of his seed, her lower lips squeezing every drop from him. Finally, he slid out of her, her feet firmly back on the floor. Looking into her eyes, he was met with amusement.

“What’s so funny” He demanded.

Oriana smirked. “So…remember when we were first a couple, and we were having sex, and you asked me to call you my boyfriend and then you came instantly? I adore how it’s the same with term of wife.”

Beckett turned bright red. “I…it’s just…I mean…”

“And you stammering about it is even more adorable.” She laughed.

“Is that so?” He growled. “Then I guess you like it as much as I do. Which is good, because I’m going to need you screaming it all afternoon…and all night.”

Oriana’s phone started ringing.

“Don’t even think about answering that.” Beckett told her. “You’re all mine the rest of the day. We agreed.” He pulled her phone out from her purse to silence it, but paused as he read the screen. “Dr. Navario?”

“My gyno!” Oriana yanked the phone from his grip. “Hello?” She paused. “Yes! Yes, absolutely, that’s great! See you soon!”

She hung up, grinning at Beckett. “She had a cancellation this afternoon and wants to take us in for an ultrasound, instead of waiting a few days!”

“R-really?” Beckett gasped.

“Yes! It’s in an hour, so unfortunately…you’re going to have to share me this afternoon after all.” She joked.

Beckett’s eyes widened. “Oh my god! We have to leave! Do you want to change? Are you hungry? Thirsty? Need to use the bathroom?”

“Beck, stop, stop. It doesn’t take an hour to get there, first of all. Second…yes, I can eat and I should drink plenty since they recommend having a full bladder for the ultrasound.”

He frowned. “Why? That sounds uncomfortable.”

Oriana just shrugged. “Helps them see better I guess.” She gently pressed her lips to Beckett’s, who deepened the kiss before nipping at her neck and collar-bone.

“I’ll make an exception for our baby.” He murmured. “But then you’re mine, and I’m yours for the rest of the day.”

“Mmmmm deal.” She moaned as he pressed himself against her, letting her know he was already hard again.

“Keep making those noises, and I’m going to take that back.” He warned.

Oriana chuckled lightly. “Alright tiger. Let’s get ready then.”

An hour and a half later, the newlyweds were sitting in a doctors office nervously, waiting on the ultrasound tech to come in. After another moment, the door opened and a woman greeted them with a warm smile.

“I’m Brenna, I’ll be performing your ultra-sound today. Once we’ve wrapped up, Dr. Navario will come in and go over the results with you. As we go along I’ll point out a few things to you as well. Is this your first?”

“It is.” Beckett confirmed.

“We’re not even positive I’m pregnant…” Oriana started.

“Yes we are.” Beckett countered.

Oriana rolled her eyes. “He is, I’m not.”

Brenna grinned. “I see. Well, let’s put that question to bed, shall we? Now, I’ve warmed up the gel, so it should be comfortable for you. I’m going to press down fairly hard to make sure we get a good visual, and it may be slightly uncomfortable. Once we’re done, you’ll be off for your urine sample and those results are instantaneous, so your doctor can have all the information needed when she comes in. Sound good?”

“Yes.” Oriana whispered.

Beckett met her eyes, noticing the fear in them. He took her hand. “Everything’s okay.” He soothed. “We’re in this together.”

She took a deep breath and nodded, as the technician pressed down onto her lower abdomen. Oriana winced.

“Does it have to be that hard? It’s too hard for her.” Beckett worried.

“It’s really just because I have to pee so bad.” Oriana tried to laugh, but failed.

“It’s not hurting the baby?” Beckett asked nervously.

“Not at all. In fact…” Brenna projected the screen of her machine onto a television in front of them.

“Is that…what is that?”

“You’re 8 weeks along. Congratulations.”

Both Beckett and Oriana were staring at the screen in awe as Brenna continued. “This dark area is the amniotic sac, that protects the baby, and this here…” She highlighted part of the screen. “This is the fetus.”

Oriana covered her mouth with her free hand, tears welling up in her eyes. “Oh my god.” She breathed. “I…I really am…”

“You really are.” Beckett grinned. “We’re pregnant!”

“At 8 weeks, the fetus is about the size of a raspberry.” Brenna continued taking some measurements, assuring them that everything she was looking at were standard ultrasound procedure.

“What’s that blip?” Beckett asked, pointing to the screen.

“Is…is it supposed to blinking like that?” Oriana chimed in, her heart racing.

“That…is my favorite part, actually. And I bet it will be yours too. Are you ready to hear the heartbeat?” The technician asked.

“The…the…heart…” Before Oriana could finish her thought, a fast bumping sound filled the room, which Beckett instantly recognized.

“It sounds exactly like what I heard over the weekend.” He said absent-mindedly, meeting Oriana’s eyes. “That’s what I heard. The heart…I can’t believe it.”

“It’s not possible to hear it outside the womb.” Brenna spoke again. “I’m afraid whatever you heard couldn’t possibly have been the heartbeat.”

“Oh, uh, right.” Beckett ran a hand through his hair, thankful the room was dark so his blush was hidden.

“Well, that’s it. Here’s a printout…” Brenna handed them a black and white copy of the best picture of the exam. “And here is a thumb-drive, this has all the images and videos on it, as well as the clip of the heartbeat.”

“It’s so adorable.” Oriana mused. “A teddy bear thumb-drive…it’s too cute.”

“You’ll want to bring it every time you come.” Brenna informed. “This way we can keep adding to it and it will be a wonderful keepsake at the end of the pregnancy. Now, Oriana, we need to get your urine sample, and then the doctor will be right in. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

Oriana followed her out of the room as Beckett stared at the black and white picture of their unborn child. Tracing his fingers over it he murmured. “I love you already, my little raspberry. You are going to be so loved.”

After Dr. Navario went over the results with them, assuring the young couple that everything looked perfect so far, Beckett and Oriana finally went back home. Collapsing on the couch, Oriana leaned her head against Beckett’s shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her and kissing the top of her head.

“We’re having a baby.” Oriana whispered.

Beckett’s heart surged with love. “This is officially the best day of my life. Not only did I marry you…we saw our child for the first time.”

“How incredible was that heartbeat?” Oriana agreed. “God, it’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard. You said you heard it before?”

“I did.” He said softly. “Just for a second. Just long enough so I knew you were pregnant.”

“That’s how you knew? Not because I felt sick a lot?”

“The sickness helped, sure, but…I heard it, I heard our baby when it was impossible for me to have. I didn’t want to freak you out more than you already were, but that’s how I was completely positive.”

“Wow.” She murmured.

“Are you excited?” He asked hesitantly.

“I’m excited that you’re excited.”

“Ori…” He hooked his finger under her chin and forced her to look at him. “You have no idea how excited I am. But…whatever you want to do about this, I’ll support.”

She looked at him curiously. “What do you mean?”

“I know you haven’t exactly wanted this, I know it terrifies you. And that’s okay, I’m here to help you through it. But if you don’t want to go through it then…”

“Of course I do.” She interrupted. “Beck, this…we made this out of love. It’s amazing. And yeah, I’m still scared but…you ground me in a way no one ever has, and I know you’ll continue to do so. I want this baby. Your baby.”

“Are you sure?” His heart was beating faster.

“Absolutely.” She smiled, and now his heart soared. He kissed her fiercely, conveying his emotions through this one touch.

Finally breaking apart, he chuckled. “You know…eight weeks…”

“Yeah?”

He looked at her slyly. “That means I must have gotten you pregnant when we first started sleeping together. Probably within that first weekend. I’m not surprised that I would excel in that area as well.”

Oriana burst out laughing. “You are so full of yourself!”

He shrugged. “It’s warranted. I’m nothing if not an over-achiever. If I hadn’t already gotten you pregnant, you better believe I’d be working hard to make you that way right now.”

“Is that right?” Her eyes sparkled.

“Most definitely.” He assured.

“We could just…pretend that I’m not pregnant, and you can show me all the moves you’d make to get me that way.” She teased, watching the tips of his ears turn crimson.

“Ori…” His eyes fell to her mouth as she licked her lips. “I don’t need to pretend anything. All I want to do right now is make you scream how I’m your husband. All I need is you. Always.”

“Always.” Oriana whispered in agreeance, before falling into a deep, passionate kiss.

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[sleepbby]

Groceries, Cashback and Food Waste - A Guide

I have made a lot of posts on here before about my ways of saving money on groceries but I haven't ever really made a guide on it before! So here it is!

Groceries Cashback Apps

A lot of countries have similar apps to these in the app store, so browse for them! These 2 are my favourite apps in the UK - Shopmium has immediate payouts and GreenJinn does payouts from £1.50 upwards.

They all have an extensive list of free or discounted products. Pay close attention, check out which stores you have to buy this product at in order to get the deal! Also, make sure you got the right size or flavour etc. Use the barcode scanners a lot of these apps have, which will immediately tell you if there's a deal associated with the product you have in your hands. A big tip is, don't buy items just because they're cheap, if you'd normally never buy them. For free items, always get them even if you have no use for them, just donate them!

Just a small note, one of the products that I recommend getting in the UK is baby cereals, bc they often are posted for free and you can donate them, it's such a necessary item for a lot of families in need.

I saved roughly £45 (60 USD) in less than 4 months through these 2 apps, which for sure helped me out.

Big Brands and Samples

A lot of brands have changed the way they test out their products. Instead of paying many people an actual wage to work for them in a test panel, they prefer consumers to buy their products in store and give feedback. What use is that to you? They will often refund your purchase!

Just an example, Coca Cola paid me back the full amount for this product, all I had to do was send in my receipt and optionally, rate the product. Check with your local bug brands if they have any promotions going on!

A lot of companies will also send you free samples of their products such as pet food or sanitary pads, to your home! Just be aware of what information you're giving them (check the conditions) bc this is a little bit more intrusive than the other options (phone number/house address).

TooGoodToGo - Fighting Food Waste and Cheap Meals

I have praised this app so, so many times! And with good reason! It's a way to eat good food for relatively little money! Every day, the app will show you participating restaurants, grocery stores, shops, hotels etc., all of them offering you leftover food that will go to waste in the near future. Usually, the deals are between £2-£5, which can be very cost effective given the products (sometimes worth up to £20). Some places just like to do good and offer more food than agreed on, or they give you regular products that still have a couple of days to go!

If you live in a big city like London, you have a wide array of options available to you! But even in smaller cities, there's food to be saved! You can even convince certain companies or shops to participate, if you're brave! Company's love the app bc they can make some money of of food they would have otherwise thrown away and customers get food for a fraction of the regular price. Also, the environment is happy, bc there's less food waste :-)

Once you buy a ticket, all you have to do is wait until the collection time and there you go! Sushi, curry, Italian deli, donuts, bakeries, whatever! Recently, one of the local supermarket chains started participating and now, you can buy a bag of groceries for €5 but you're getting at least €20 worth of groceries for it! More than anything, I think the bakeries and supermarkets are the biggest help if you're struggling financially, because they're provide the basics of a proper diet.

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So everyone, PLEASE TRY IT! You'll never know if these apps and saving methods work for you until you do! So let's get this bread 😉🍞🍞🍞