#but I've built up strength to not cry over those things like if i did I'd just be crying nonstop so i channel my emotions into trying to

[sheerioswifties]

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[xorangeobsessionsx]

Sa'Nyah

It was the first week of Spring, and boy did the rain make its presents known. I sat propped up on my seating area located right next to the window. It was the perfect spot for days like this, especially with my ever so plush spring colored pillows I had neatly laid out.

Being the dramatic person that I am, I rested my head on the window and gazed up at the crying sky as if I were in one of those sad music videos from the 90s. I let out a soft hum which added a perfect melody to the sound of each raindrop.

"Lovely weather we're having today huh?" he placed his hands on my shoulder, followed by a soft peck to my forehead. His voice soft, yet groggy after just waking up.

"Yea, you can say that." A smile spread across my face as I turned and focused my attention to him. He flashed me a smile back, revealing those perfect pearly whites that went well with his chocolate skin.

He stood six foot. His body, built well from his daily workouts in our in home gym, making him the perfect fit to handle all the curves I was working with. At that moment, I couldn't help but get flashes in my mind from last nights love making.

Quinton did things to my body I've never experienced before. I've been with only two men before him and they weren't even half as good as he was, and I meant that in all aspects.

I was finally happily settled down with a man whom I felt was the one I'd be locking eyes with as I walked down the aisle. And that is something I never felt with Kori nor Jordan.

"Looks like we'll be staying in for a while." I said, as I got up and placed my arms around him. I stood 5,3 so I had to stand on my toes to reach up to him.

"Well I'm all for that" He said in a sexy tone as he lifted me up making me let out a slight giggle. He then sat me on the edge of the bed.

"But first.." he said, as he slowly started to pull my panties down from up under my silk gown. "I'm gone eat!" The way he said it made me giggle even louder this time.

The giggles only turned to soft moans, which lead to deeper moans that eventually reached me to my climax.

I laid my head back on the nearest pillow as he stood up wiping my juices from his face.

"I'm uh hop in the shower love." He started to undress, not taking his eyes off of me. Something he would often do to get me to join him. I shook my head from side to side as I mouthed the word no. Last thing my body was ready for was a round in the shower.

He then walked over to the door that lead to our bathroom and once he got inside, he peeked out giving me one last look to see if I've changed my mind.

"Boy you better get in that shower before I do. Cause I'm uh have that hot water on full blast!"

After hearing that, he gave me this frantic look and went back into the bathroom and slammed the door. I started cracking up.

It was things like that made me love this man.

Quinton

I never quite understood what it was about a woman's skin that made them able to take a shower in scorching hot water. It's like their skin got some extra strength to it once they hit the water. I liked my water warm,with a tad bit of hot, if that makes any sense.

Once I stepped out the shower I grabbed my towel from the rack and wrapped it around my waist. I whipped my hands dry on the towel and picked up my phone that sat on the sink counter. I then took a glimpse in the mirror. Damn I was a fine ass brother.

As I figured, I had more than enough notifications on my phone. From emails, to text and missed phone calls. Majority of them were work related so I made sure to get back to them quick.

I was the owner of two of the hottest Barbershop in the city. Since it was still early, I hit up all my employees to let them know both shops would be closed due to the heavy rain we've been having. Besides, I wanted to spend some time with my girl.

I had planned to step back in the room and give her what I wanted to give her in the shower, but to my surprise she was laid out on the bed knocked out. I just smiled giving her a small peck on her forehead before placing a blanket over her.

I loved every inch and curve on Nyah. She was a big girl who stayed well put together. I've always had a taste for a woman with a little bit of meat on their bones and Nyah was the perfect fit for me.

Plenty of females hated when they saw us together. Mainly those skinny ass toothpick shaped  females. One called themselves trying to hit on me one day while I came to drop my baby of some lunch at her Hair/Nail Salon she owned. She let the words "Oh, but you can date this fat bitch tho" slip out her mouth. Once Nyah heard that she laid shawty out right where she stood. The girl left out of there with a busted face and a half ass hairdo.

That was the first time I ever saw my baby throw down and the last, because fighting really wasn't her thing. And honestly I didn't want her to have to be fighting out here anyway. These females weren't worth it. And that seemed to be what majority of them out here were about. Fighting for no damn reason.

Later that night we had a deep conversation about it which also made her bring up me ever wanting to go cheat on her with a skinny bitch. I cut that thought out of her mind quick. I could care less the size of a woman, I wasn't the cheating type so that was definitely something Nyah didn't have to worry about.

After getting myself dressed, I headed downstairs to fix breakfast for us. If it was two things I was very skilled at, it was cutting hair and cooking. I got the cutting hair down pack from my pops and the cooking from my mother.

My dad had me in the barbershop all week after school while my mother had me in the kitchen with her on the weekends. I wish I would have been able to spend the 5 days out the week with her in the kitchen, and the 2 days in the barbershop with my dad. But I also realize the barbershop was what made me the man I am today.

My mother past away 3 years ago from breast cancer just 1 month before I met Nyah. Being very close to my mother that shit hit me hard. It literally took me meeting Nyah to lift my spirits back up because boy was I down for a while.

As for my father, he re married a couple years prior, to a Jamaican woman he met one day after taking a vacation down there for a few weeks. He even moved out there and they now have a 2 year old daughter. Being the only child, I would have loved to be able to see my baby sister but she was so far away.

Sad to say, me and my father's relationship fell off after he didn't bother to show up to my mother's funeral. He said there was just no way he could get out here in time. It just goes to show how much he really cared cause me, I would have swam through hell and high water to have been able to attend my mother's funeral.

                                 ~~

The smell of my famous brown sugar pancakes must have reached Nyah's sleeping nose. As I went to lay out the last one on the plate, I could hear her soft footsteps coming down the stairs. That saved me the trip of having to go upstairs to wake her.

"Just in time!" I smiled then gave her a peck on the cheek once she reached the kitchen island. I had the pancakes on one plate, maple brown sugar sausage on another and some fresh cut fruit in a bowl.

"What we have hear.. (I put on my Chef voice) is my famous brown sugar pancakes." I placed two neatly on the plate. I then picked up the plate of sausage and gave it a quick whiff.

"And here, we have maple brown sugar sausages." I neatly laid them out on the plate a few inches away from the pancakes.  "Andd.." I spun the bowl of fruit. "Freshly cut fruit with a light drizzle of honey." I lightly drizzled the honey for that special effect.

I watched as Nyah sat intrigued the whole time. I could also tell she was ready to eat. So I wrapped up my little presentation, made myself a plate and sat down to eat with my girl.

Just when I went to take that first bite, my phone rang...

Story Title: "Get Me Out The Hood"

Writer: 💎Urban Dymnd💎

[writingsofanobsessedwoman]

Had this idea: What if the reader was an archeologist who finds Arthur's grave? Upon investigation, she falls into the world of Red Dead Redemption. Let's see where this goes.

You'd studied your whole life to get a degree in archeology, figuring it paid well enough. When you set out on your own, you were excited to say the least. After finding a spot that anyone had yet to explore, you took off, eager for the chance to make a discovery. It was a grave, just northeast of what once was an old fort, set up on a hill. So, you made the journey. It was quite the hike to get up that hill, and you were exhausted by the time you made your way to the top. But you were well rewarded with an old, weathered tombstone. You could hardly make out the words, "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness." The name was well worn, but you believed it read, "Arthur Morgan." You couldn't believe it. Arthur Morgan?! The legendary gunslinger? This had to be your break! You set your things up quickly, thrilled at the chance to prove that all that money spent on college wasn't a waste. Once your shovel began to hit the ground, however, you found yourself growing tired, and fast. Almost like something was draining the strength from your very soul. But, you were determined, so you pushed onwards.

It seemed like hours went by before you heard and felt your shovel hot something solid. There, in the hole you'd dug, lay a few wooden shreds of what you could only assume as a coffin. Black spots began to grow into your field of vision. You felt yourself sway a bit, and took a few steps back, only to lose your balance and fall. Everything went dark.

When you came to, the sun was rising over the hill. It was a beautiful sight, truly. "Wait. The sun? How long was I out?", you thought, as a pounding filled your head. Your eyes widened, and you began fumbling for your phone, only to feel an empty pocket. Panic began to set in, and the only thing your confused brain could think to do was cry, and cry you did. So loudly, apparently, that travelers could hear you. You heard a noise in the distance, and it seemed to be coming towards you. You scrambled to find some sort of weapon, anything you could defend yourself with. But, the noise was strangely familiar. You recognized it. Hoofbeats. You felt relieved. Maybe someone was coming to your rescue. You watched as the horses grew closer, thier riders' faces starting to become clear. One had striking blue eyes, and blonde hair, the other with brown hair and scars on his face. It seemed the two were talking amongst each other. Once they reached you, tears still in your eyes, the pair dismounted. The blonde spoke with a rough, yet silk-like drawl. "Are you okay Miss/Mister?" "No," you answered, voice wavering, "I'm not sure what happened to me." The one with the scars spoke next, asking you a simple question. "Why are you even up here?" His voice sounded like he'd swallowed sandpaper. You took a moment to gather yourself before answering. "Well I came up here to explore a gra-." As you turned, there was only an empty spot where the headstone once sat. Confusion clouded your mind. "How could it have moved? I'm still in the same place I was. This doesn't make sense!" you screamed in your head. "Miss/Mister, you sure you're okay?" The blonde was speaking again. You turned to him, truly beginning to panic. "No. I don't know where I am or who you are. I think I've hit my head or something. Something's got to be wrong." The blonde chuckled, and camly said, "Well, my name's Arthur, and this here is John." Arthur? That was the name on the grave. It was then you began to take in the appearance of the two men. Arthur was built big, pure muscle, with the beginnings of a beard. John looked like a scrawny dog compared to him, all skin and bone. Both armed to the teeth, with a revolver at each side, and rifles strapped to each horse.. A hand being stretched out to you broke your thoughts. You debated taking it, but eventually decided to when Arthur smiled, saying, "We won't hurt ya, girl/boy." He pulled you up to your feet gently, almost like he was afraid to hurt you. "Hey um, Arthur, was it? What's your last name?" "Morgan. Why do you ask?" Your eyes nearly bugged out. Surely you were dead. You had to be. How could Arthur Morgan be standing in front of you when you remember seeing his coffin in the ground? As you began to hyperventilate, the world spun. The last thing you remember is hearing a "Whoah" before passing out.

Well, this is what I've got thus far. Let me know if you want more. I ain't the best writer, so you'll have to excuse grammatical errors. Who knows where this is going. Maybe an Arthur × reader, or maybe our beloved reader will fall for a camp member. Also have a few other ideas bouncing around in my head for some other stuff.

[missymurphy1985]

The Return

It's been 2 years since you were last in Dublin. 2 years since you up and left without warning, saying goodbye to your life there and restarting somewhere completely new. Sometimes, you have to go backwards in order to move forwards.

Requested by @noctvrnalmoth I hope you like it!

*Featuring Jim from the Delinquent Season*

Stepping off the train into the platform, you sighed. It all looked the same, and yet so different. Pulling the buggy open, you gently strapped your sleeping son in and made your way to the taxi rank, your suitcase trailing behind you. A kind lady helped you with your bags and waited with you for an available taxi.

"You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders there, are you okay?" She sat next to you on the bench as your son murmured adorably in his sleep. "Sorry, I don't mean to pry..."

"No don't be sorry.. just been a long time since I came back here is all. Few loose ends to tie up." You glanced at your son's sleepy features as his eyes started to open. Beautiful, ocean blue eyes alongside his dark hair, growing more every day... The memories of that night flooding back before you took a large gulp of water from the bottle in your bag, forcing them back down. You'd done so well... 2 years and you'd built a new life in London. New friends, amazing new job allowing you to put that degree in marketing to good use - you were finally making a complete fresh start. But the secrets you had buried deep inside kept coming to the surface the more your son grew. He deserved to know his roots, who his father was, you knew that, but you couldn't do it.

Choking a tear back, you thanked the kind lady for helping you as a taxi pulled up and she helped you to get in.

Pulling up outside your cousin Natalie's townhouse in the city centre, she was waiting for you at the gate to help with Jackson and your bags. Grinning from ear to ear she pulled you in for a huge hug once you'd got inside and settled on her couch as Jackson sat in this new lady's lap tugging at her earrings.

"I can't believe I'm only just meeting him y/n.. he's the image of you!!" She kissed his cheek, bringing him up to look at him properly for the first time not over Skype.

"I never see it, I just see.... I just see him I guess..." You mind wandered to the man you actually saw, but you didn't let it slip.

"Those EYES!!! So blue and vibrant, just beautiful!" Natalie was swooning now, she'd never seen eyes that blue on a baby. Your eyes were brown, so he clearly inherited them from his father, although you had never revealed his identity - just a drunken one night stand and he wasn't involved. You weren't lying, technically...

After catching up properly, Natalie told you she'd planned a few people coming over to welcome you back that evening - nothing major, just a few friends from years ago that were keen to see you after so long away.

"Oh.. yes, that would be nice... Um, who's coming?"

"Well I think David and Amanda, possibly Caroline.. I think Liam is asking Jim too but I'm not sure if he's up for it - he's been through a tough time lately.." you caught a gasp in your throat at the sound of his name. Last you heard, through Natalie, he and Danielle were going through a rough patch. Cheating accusations on both sides, they'd agreed to a trial separation. "Apparently she isn't as broken hearted as once thought - already shacked up with someone new, fancy house on the coast, new Jag on the driveway, she's doing quite well for herself!" Your chin began to wobble, not unnoticed by Natalie, who placed Jackson in his bouncer on the floor and moved to place a hand on your shoulder.

"I'm fine Nat, honestly I'm good. It was a long time ago, things have changed. I'm not that silly little girl with a crush anymore..." Natalie looked into your eyes. Nothing ever got past her.

"Y/n.. when I said I'd never seen eyes that blue, I meant on a baby. Only one person I know has eyes like that, and I think you know too. Tell me the truth, please?" You were frozen, until tears escaped and you couldn't stop them. Jackson looked to see his mum crying and began crying too. Scooping him up, you held him close.

"It happened once... Just once Nat... And he doesn't know and he doesn't need to know, let's just leave it there, yeah?"

"What?? This is Jim's son? I was almost kidding y/n... How could you keep this from him for 2 years??" She was stood up now in complete shock. Jim wasn't just her friend, he was her husband's brother - this made things even more intense. The atmosphere could be cut with a knife.

"Please Nat... This wasn't easy okay? I was 21, I slept with a married man, and I got pregnant... Then mum died.. I had to go back to London to sort out the funeral and the will... I didn't want to be seen as the homewrecker that got herself knocked up..."

"And what about Jackson? Doesn't he deserve to know his father?"

"Of course... And he would.. when I was ready Nat. And I'm not ready..."

"Not ready for what?" Liam, Natalie's husband was stood in the doorway, as you heard the front door close. Now standing next to him was the man you were desperately trying to avoid... Jim stood behind him, eyes wide at the sight of you with a baby in your arms.

"Baby, we need to go pick up that delivery from the post office, remember the one we missed last week?" Natalie pulled a confused Liam out of the room, leaving his brother and you alone.

"Y/n... Hey.. um.. how are you?" You tried to smile in response but your heart was pounding in your chest, you could barely breathe.

"I.. yeah.. um, yeah I'm okay.." you glanced down at his hand.. the wedding ring was gone. "I'm sorry to hear about you and Olivia..."

"Probably for the best eh... We weren't exactly getting along, just stayed together for the kids I think. They're older now though, they're fine. Y/n.. where did you go? Why did you go?"

"My mum was ill... She'd had a stroke and they couldn't save her, I had to go... I just stayed.. and things happened.."

"You had a baby..." He looked at the little boy in your arms, feeling extremely nervous now. "He must be just over a year old, right?" You nodded.

"13 months.."

"And we... We had sex y/n.. the day before you left..." His own breath was faltering now as the dates in his mind started to catch up. Again, you nodded, tears rolling down your cheeks. The realisation of what was happening dawned on Jim. He started to back away, before shaking his head and storming out of the house, the door slamming behind him making you and your son jump.

Your sobs came out in full force now, Liam and Natalie coming back into the room. Liam took Jackson into the kitchen to find him something to eat as Natalie held you.

"It's okay y/n... Give him time yeah? Poor guys just had the shock of his life, he'll come round." Your heart was sinking.. you hadn't meant for any of this to happen, but here it was. The memory of that afternoon had never left you, you hadn't even been able to move on - your son, for starters, looked just like him, how could you find love with anyone with the constant reminder of the man you'd never have around you 24/7.

Flashback

"I'm so sorry Jim, I didn't know who else to call..." You climbed into his car, cheeks burning as he picked you up from outside the pharmacy. You'd been walking along the road when a pothole in the pavement took you by surprise and you'd tripped, your ankle turning funny - the pain was horrific, but no one seemed to be answering your phone calls when you rang around for someone to come pick you up. Reluctantly, you'd dialled Jim's number, your cousin's brother in law. He'd given you his number the previous week, after offering to help you move into your new apartment later that month.

"No problem, I was just dropping the kids at school so I was only round the corner." He helped you into the car and drove you back to his house. "I figured your place is in boxes, no chance of a first aid kit either, I'm guessing?"

"No," You laughed. "Thank you so much.." you grimaced as you turned your foot round, trying to ease the pain.

"Definitely not broken, just need to rest it. I'll put the kettle on." Jim led you into the kitchen and sat you down at the kitchen table, and grabbed an ice pack from the fridge. Lifting your leg onto the chair opposite, he placed the ice pack onto your ankle. "Feeling okay?" He asked, flicking the kettle on and preparing two mugs of coffee.

"Much better.. thank you." Definitely better.. the physical contact from him was driving you insane, you had to swallow the blushes in your cheeks, praying he hadn't noticed.

"I've only got instant coffee... Hope that's okay - Danielle won't let me buy a coffee machine." He rolled his eyes. His wife was one of the tightest women he'd ever met.

"It's fine, thank you.. and I honestly can't thank you enough for coming to get me.. I can't believe how clumsy I am!"

"Hey those pavements are a nightmare - I'm surprised no one's broken a leg yet! Don't you be moving now, I'll take you back home once that swelling has gone down."

"How did you know how to fix it all?"

"I have a son, y/n, who at one stage a few years ago thought he was an actual superhero and would fling himself off anything to check if he could fly.. you learn the difference between a broken ankle and a twisted one pretty quick!" He laughed, remembering the time his son climbed the tallest tree in the park, giving him a heart attack before throwing himself from the top - luckily Jim caught him before he hit the floor.

"I think it's better now, Jim, I can try and walk." You said, after chatting for a while in the large kitchen.

"Let me help you.." he held your hands and guided you upright, your chests now pressed together as you placed your foot gingerly on the floor, testing it's strength. Stumbling slightly, Jim caught you, your bodies now even closer together. You could feel his heart racing, could he feel yours? His hands wrapping around yours, holding you up, an arm snaking round your waist. You looked up and found him looking right back at you, your face inches from his. Before you had time to think, you kissed him, before quickly pulling back.

"Shit I'm sorry... Oh god.. no... I'm sorry..." He took your hand in his and pulled you back to him, pressing his lips back to yours. This time you didn't pull back, your mouth opening allowing his tongue to dance against yours. Lifting you up, he sat you on top of the counter, his hands roaming your body hungrily.

"I can't... I shouldn't..." He murmured against your neck, the vibrations driving you wild with need. "You're so fucking beautiful y/n..." He ground your hips against yours, you could feel his erection through his jeans as you reached down to cup it through them, kneading it slightly. He growled, pulling your hand up to his chest, his heart hammering underneath his shirt. "You feel that? Feel how fast that's going?" Silently you took his hand and placed against your chest.

"Feel mine...." You pushed his hand down lower.. over your breast... Down your stomach and under the waistband of your skirt. His fingers found your folds, and he gasped your name. "I'm wet... I'm so fucking wet..." Lifting your skirt up, he pulled your underwear down. You relieved him of his jeans and they fell to the floor, revealing no underwear, just his huge, hard cock already leaking.

"I see you are too..." You ran a finger along the slit, taking some of the precum and lifting it to your mouth. "You taste good..."

"You want this...?" He asked, lining himself up against you. You nodded, and he pushed in easily, you gasped his name and threw your head back as he filled you completely. Pulling on your hips, he rocked you against him as he moved his own hips back and forth, fucking you against the countertop. You legs wrapped round his waist as his thrusts came harder, deeper, faster.

"Fuck... Right there... Jim... Oh god...." He bit down on your exposed neck, hands pushing against your still covered breasts, he moaned.

"Feels so good y/n... You feel so good... That's it baby, I need to feel you... Cum for me..." You leaned back, and eyes locked with his you drew a hand down to circle your clit as he moved inside you.

"Gonna make myself cum on you... Gonna cum hard for you... Faster Jim..." He pounded into you now, your moans echoing through the kitchen as you came over him, his release following seconds later. Both of you leaned your heads together as your worlds came back into focus.

Present Day

"Hey."

"Hey.." you'd agreed to meet Jim for a coffee a few days later. He'd called you the evening before, slightly tipsy which made you chuckle. Liam and Natalie were watching Jackson while the two of you caught up.

"How's the hangover?" You smiled, he grimaced.

"Well I've definitely felt fresher.. it was a bit of a shock y/n..."

"Listen.. for what it's worth.. I'm sorry. I didn't know I was pregnant until I was nearly 20weeks. With the stress of losing mum and the funeral, I hadn't had a period for a while but I thought it was just the stress.. then my friend convinced me to take a test and the doctors confirming it.. it was too late to do anything about it.. then I heard you and Danielle were trying for another baby and I just couldn't do it Jim.. I couldn't destroy your life like that.." your hands were shaking. He leaned over and took your hands in his.

"I understand y/n.. I do. I spent most of this week thinking about it. I don't blame you for what you did.. but I do wish you'd told me."

"I'd done enough damage Jim, sleeping with a married man? On his kitchen counter where he makes his kids breakfast? Where his wife makes her coffee in the morning? I couldn't face you.. I couldn't face what I'd done.."

"You know where my wife was, that morning?" He leaned back, smiling a little. "At her office, bent over the desk while her boss fucked her from behind. She called my number by accident while it happened. I didn't answer, obviously, I was busy.. but my voicemail picked up the whole thing. I'd had my suspicions for a long time, but that confirmed it. We were never trying for another baby - that's just what she told people to distract them from the fact we were clearly falling apart at the seams. Couldn't exactly be mad at her after what I'd done with you though."

"Did you tell her?"

"Yes, but she didn't know it was you. Then you up and left.. I thought there was no need to tell her who it was. I guess now we kinda have to, right?"

"Jim, I don't expect anything from you, okay? I have an inheritance from my mum, I'm fine for money, there's no need to be involved if it'll cause you problems.."

"No. You've kept him from me for nearly 2 years y/n, don't do this again, please? I'm not asking you to move in, I'm not asking for a relationship, I just want to get to know our boy.. that's all.. please?" You saw it in his eyes. It was there, for all to see. Was it love?

"I'll call Nat.. ask her to bring him over, maybe we could go for a walk?" Jim smiled, nodding. You made the call, and an hour later you were walking to the local park, Jim pushing the stroller. He took Jackson out of the buggy and placed him inside a baby swing, pushing him gently while pulling silly faces making him giggle. Your heart swelled watching them.

"He's incredible.. those eyes.."

"Your eyes, Jim." He looked up at you and smiled listening to his son's giggle, before he started becoming grouchy again.

"He's teething... Come on little man, let's get you back shall we?" Jim lifted him from the swing and placed his little finger in Jackson's mouth. He responded by sucking his gums along it, finding relief. You smiled, watching Him soothe your son's whimpers of pain as his teeth came through.

Making your way inside Natalie's house, you were surprised to find it empty. A note on the kitchen counter read that they'd gone out for the afternoon, they wouldn't be home until the evening. You warmed a bottle of milk for Jackson as Jim gave him some Calpol. Taking the bottle from you, he fed his son, as you watched, heart pounding as you watched the man you were still in love with take such good care of your baby. Within 15 minutes, Jackson was fed and had been rocked to sleep in his father's arms, you took him and placed him upstairs in his cot to nap. You knew he'd be out for at least an hour after all that fresh air. Walking back into the lounge, you found Jim sat on the sofa waiting for you.

"Come here, y/n..." You sat next to him as he turned to face you, hand gently caressing your cheek. "What are we going to do now?"

"I'm heading back to London tomorrow Jim..." His eyes glistened slightly. He'd just found his son, and now he was going again. He'd just got you back in his life, and now you were disappearing again...

"What can I do to make you stay?" His question took you by surprise. Stay?

"Jim, I..."

"I haven't stopped thinking about you.. about what happened 2 years ago. How long I'd wanted you, how long I'd dreamt of you, how I still dream of you even now.. and we share a son y/n.. I can't let you go again, it'd break me.."

"I'm half your age Jim! I'm barely older than your eldest child, how can this possibly work?" He answered with a kiss. Leaning forward to take your mouth against his, without thinking you returned it, linking your fingers with his as he pulled you into his lap.

"It'll work because we'll make it work.. nothing else matters.. all of that other stuff is irrelevant.." he felt you grind your hips against his and his erection was burning against his jeans. He needed you, now.

"And Danielle?"

"Is fucking a man old enough to be her own father - opinion invalid. I don't care about her, I care about you.. please.." he was aware of how desperate he sounded but he didn't care. He had his hand under your t-shirt against your breast, no bra in the way this time. Lifting you up, he carried you upstairs to the guest room you were staying in, and laid you down softly on the bed underneath him.

"Birth control?" He looked at you, smiling.

"The coil - don't worry, I'm covered this time.." You smiled back as he lifted your t-shirt over your head and kissed you again. The reason for being at the pharmacy 2 years ago was to collect your prescription for the pill - you'd not taken it for a couple of days after running out suddenly. After Jackson was born, you switched to a more efficient form of birth control.

Pulling your skirt down and off, along with your underwear, he nestled his face between your thighs, now parted by his hands.

"I want you to watch me y/n... Watch me as I make you cum..." Your core burning, you raised yourself up on your elbows as he blew a hot breath against your wet folds, causing you to shiver under him. He parted your lips with his fingers, before licking from your pulsing hole up to your clit, finding a rhythm that made you cry out and shudder underneath his tongue. Smiling, groaning into you, you tried to keep your eyes on him as he licked and sucked your throbbing clit in his mouth.

"Jim.. don't stop.. oh god..." You hadn't had sex since that afternoon 2 year ago, no one being good enough to compete with the man currently buried between your legs. No pleasure you'd given yourself since was a patch on this, and you felt that burning feeling in your stomach starting to rise. "I'm close... Mm... Fuck I'm close..." Your words barely a whisper but he heard them, pushing harder with his tongue as a finger entered you, hooking upwards to find that spot inside, the one you didn't think actually existed, but there it was.. you bucked against his mouth, coming hard and fast - you felt your liquids gush over his chin, there was no stopping them... "Aha... Oh god Jim... Fuck... Stop, it's too much..." He smiled, blowing another warm breath over you before moving back to your mouth. You could taste yourself on his lips, turning you on even more.

Flipping him onto his back, you lifted his clothes off him and kissed down his chest. Your core needed a breather before you took him inside you. Licking the top of his now rock hard cock, you slowly sank your lips down, taking him fully inside your mouth. You'd never had a strong gag reflex, and you enjoyed the feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat.

"Holy fuck... Jesus y/n... That's it baby..." Up and down your head bobbed, swapping between hard and light sucks, your teeth gently scraping the underside of his cock and your fingers lightly playing with his balls underneath you. Every time you felt them tighten, you'd ease off, allowing him to catch his breath, before bringing him into your mouth again. After a few near explosions, he couldn't take anymore and lifted you off motioning for you to sit on him. "Ride me y/n..." You smiled, and sank your pussy onto him, allowing him to fill you. Slowly so as to adjust to his length, your hips moved, back and forth, up and down, finding the right rhythm for you both. He sat up, chests together and his hands under your thighs as he rotated his hips from underneath, driving his cock against that magical spot again.

"Yes... God that feels good... Jim..."

"I'm not gonna last long y/n..."

"That's okay.. we've got plenty of time to make up for this... Cum in me, give me all of you..." You felt his cock twitch inside you as he moved your hips faster. Leaning back, you rode him hard, the bed frame squeaking underneath as you both cried out, your climaxes arriving simultaneously. Coming back to rest your head against his, you clenched your core once more causing him to gasp as you drew yourself off him slowly. Lay down next to each other, he pulled you into his arms.

"Did you mean what you said?" He asked, kissing your head gently. "Plenty of time?"

"I meant it, Jim... I need to get back to London to sort a few things, put my flat up for sale.. my job... But yes. If you'll have us, we'll come back.." you looked into his eyes. He lifted your head to kiss you and you felt it. All the love you thought you'd never find, in the man you thought you'd never find it with.

Everything was going to be fine, you couldn't wait to start your life over again, this time for the last time.

@margoo0 @queenshelby @peakyscillian @cloudofdisney @ntmynouis @being-worthy

[dinner--starving]

Reflecting on John in S4

I've never talked to anyone about this but I think it might help.

One of my family members is very ill. The thought of loosing them scares me to my core and it is a feeling I've never had in my life. I feel I am going through hell - the helpless, lost feeling is difficult to overcome. But I keep it all pushed down in a box somewhere in my mind because the rest of the family looks up to me for strength and answers. I wish I were a magician or had some superpowers to make everything alright but alas, I'm just human.

I feel I have a better understanding of John in S4 now. Our situations are not entirely the same because I believe John did not love Mary the same way. But what is similar is that I feel I am avoiding my life partner a bit.

Disclaimer: This is in no way justifying John abusing Sherlock or ignoring his needs. I still believe S4 was EMP or blog/alibi theory. I only want to correlate my current life experience with how John processed his conflicted grief.

Let me also clarify that I am not avoiding my life partner as much as John did. It is a very mild version of what John did. I and my partner live together with my family. An example of how I have gone into my shell a bit is that I don't fool around as much as I used to, I am not looking for excuses to touch, I don't feel like we should go to the movies or have fun, I am not sharing everything that's on my mind etc. You know, things like that. I think it makes sense because I am dealing with some heavy stress. My partner is super supportive and tries their best. I am so glad to have them. But I know if I sit in a room with my partner quietly, I will break down. Because I am bottling up all these emotions. And I cannot and do not want to show those emotions to anyone except them.

John went to an extreme. And I think why he did that is because Sherlock is John's only happy place. And he knows he will break down once he lets Sherlock back in. He knows he will forget everything, just be relieved of all the sorrow and be in bliss as he always is with Sherlock. And he does not want to do that because

a. he does not want to feel guilty for not grieving over Mary, especially after his "affair" and also, Rosie (if she's real)

b. he loves Sherlock and does not want to dive into the complications of "what next?" so soon. He is not sure what he will do with Sherlock because he's been pushed to his limit.

I mentioned "conflicted" grief in my disclaimer because, unlike me, John may not really feel sad about the situation. Mary shot the one person he loved, she was an assassin, built their relationship over lies, deceived him, belittled him constantly and never truly apologised. A man of John's wit would have to be insane to just all of that go and continue living a lie. Unless Mary was a much easier lie to live with than something else (his bisexuality/love for Sherlock).

At this point in my life, I am keeping this distance from my life partner because they make me feel the most. Not because I blame them for what is happening. I think that's what John was doing but he just wrapped it all up in misplaced blame. We do see his dam break when he finally has a 2-minute conversation with Sherlock at 221B which ends in a teary, loving hug. And as if by a miracle he is instantly so much better. Smiling, joking around and full of life. Because that's all he really needs at the end of the day. Sherlock.

Whether S4 is reality or not, the fact that John ignored Sherlock after Mary's "death" only further proves that Sherlock is John's soulmate and the love of his life. And I don't think we need any more proof for Sherlock's feelings.

As for my own life, which is very much a reality, is testing me too much at this point. I want to be strong but I think sometimes it's braver to accept and acknowledge. Bottling up emotions is not healthy, it is better to cry out once in a while. I will try my best to not avoid my partner because I am not stupid like John who still thinks High Wycombe is better than Sherlock is currently equipped to understand.

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 20

First time reader click here

TWs/SUMMARY: Explicit content. Some fluffy Bruce Banner lovin'. We know our scientist is a soft dom/service top. 🥺💚 With a Tony twist at the end... Because I am an evil woman. 😏 BRUCE BANNER MONSTERCOCK NATION RISE!

Bruce licked his lips.

Despite the obvious intent to ravish me in the sweetest way possible, Bruce made no move to undress or get physically closer to me.

The man was content to kiss the breath out of me, lightly caressing the side of my face and my neck. With each shared, rushed inhale I slipped deeper into the narrow space between drowsiness and arousal. The scientist's presence had the most peculiar effect on me: all my walls crumbled, paving way to a sense of mellow tranquility.

"Lay down," Bruce whispered, pulling my blanket aside. My skin tingled in the cool air of the room. I had gotten pretty toasty under the covers.

With his palms gently pushing on my shoulders, I had no other way but to oblige. Those very same large hands brushed my neck and slid further under the collar of my shirt, tenderly tracing the lines of my collarbones. I felt delicate in his arms, light-headed.

The quiet thud of Bruce's shoes prepared me for the slight dip in the mattress that followed. With a rustle, the textured fabric of his trousers sweeped and finally settled between my parted legs. He radiated warmth, my body involuntarily arching into it. Bruce's lips found mine, again, meeting in a chaste kiss, moving on to nip and peck my jawline, my throat.

There was something erotic in the slow, sensual yet subdued way the scientist was giving into my desires. He wasn't holding back on purpose, it seemed he was rather fond of taking his time to explore my body, his new playground. It was always hard and fast and easy for me, to just take my pleasure, get it torn out of me with sharp words and clever fingers.

With Bruce it was more of a gradual increase in intensity. He wasn't all over me yet he made it known he was in charge. Our bodies connected only faintly but where they did, it left a sweet, pulling ache. I caught myself leaning into it, following the slow motions with twitches and curves of my own.

"Arms up, Princess," He sounded so calm and steady. There was a new definition to his voice, that low undertone of desire, previously unheard. I marveled at how different my lovers sounded.

My (read: stolen from Tony) t-shirt slid from my shoulders with his help, immediately getting neatly placed next to my pillow. I wore no bra; the regret at not wearing fancier panties had been already lived through by me the moment Bruce's lips first landed on mine. For some reason, I was convinced he wasn't the kind of man to care about the amount or the retail price of the lace on my underwear.

I decided to finally open my eyes.

Bruce sat on his shins in front of me, one intense furious blush the only indicator he was affected by our activities. Seeing his eyes - I had to take that back. Devils danced in his green-ish orbs. The man was enjoying himself, quite a lot.

"Off?" Words and other trivial things I didn't worry about anymore. I tugged on his button-up to indicate my own want to see him, to finally see that firm chest that had inadvertently acted as a pillow for me to cry on more than one occasion recently.

Button by button, Bruce was either teasing or provoking me. Which was fine, for once I was happy to fully relinquish the reigns of the situation to someone else. The man was, and I am not exaggerating, perfect under all those frumpy clothes. Bulky chest with coarse dark hair - I wanted to run my hands through it, all over him.

His shirt landed right next to mine and he came close, mouthing leisurely at the space between my breasts, covering my chest with the warm moisture of his breath. Hot and wet wrapped around my nipple just as my eyes drifted closed again. Arching into the bliss, I moaned softly.

And any other time I'd be embarrassed at how soft and kitten-like was the sound; then, however, I was ready to yowl if that meant he wouldn't stop. One nipple and then the other. Bruce didn't apply anything but gentle pressure. His tongue made a slow, deliberate circle around my navel, dipping into the sensitive spot. I was surprised, my hips twitching. I had no idea it could be so pleasant.

The man's soft chuckles were absorbed by my panties where his breath ghosted over my core. My squirming increased as I was no longer able to contain my excitement, my body remembering on it's own how good Tony was with his tongue, bringing me extasy - he ate me for what felt like hours when he felt I did something exceptionally well. I'd be a rotten liar if I told you that alone wasn't motivation enough to excel at everything.

"I can see you like that, Princess," Bruce observed in quiet joy, moving instead to rub his cheek on the inside of my thigh, the slight stubble producing just enough friction for me to get slightly wetter. Beards were just hot.

"Mhmm," I agreed with him, raking a gentle hand through his unruly mop of curls. Bruce groaned and I continued to steadily part his hair, loving the muted noises coming from the scientist, enjoying his breath returning to elicit shivers all over my lower body.

The gusset of my underwear was promptly moved aside, exposing me to his eyes. I've never felt an ounce of shyness with a man but it seemed that day was one of firsts for me. It was the most exposed and vulnerable I'd ever felt; like a door pried open, my inner world for anyone to see. The urge to close my legs and hide under the blankets overcame me.

"Such a pretty pussy, Princess," Bruce's voice was even rougher now, scratching.

An open-mouthed smooch was placed on my lower lips, a nimble tongue slowly stroking experimental lines through my folds. The man purposely avoided the clit, I was sure. He dove down multiple times to my entrance, lapping up my juices with an obscene noise. A lewd moan followed every time. My hips met his mouth with every movement.

My shameful freak-out was abruptly cut short by the devotion Bruce radiated. His hands firmly gripped my thighs securing his meal in the right place. And eating he was; like a starved man, the scientist followed the noises leaving my mouth to find each and every nook and cranny that made me feel closer to Eden. There was no finesse, only slippery, sloppy movements as I reached my first peak with his name leaving my lips in a strangled moan.

I was boneless, weightless. Bruce pushed me more, delving straight back into the oversensitive folds of my cunt like he hadn't just made me see stars and galaxies. Floating in time in space, not a coherent thought in my skull, my last functioning brain cell on it's long overdue vacation.

"How do you feel?" He asked me once he deemed me sufficiently removed from this plane of existence and deposited me somewhere on another world where everything was light and easy.

"Mm-Brucie," I tried to articulate my thoughts. He must've been painfully aroused himself yet he made no move to be intimate any further. The idea of him holding back and refusing his own gratification nagged at me unpleasantly, invoking a primal hunger deep in my belly. "C'mere, want you."

He climbed over on top of me slowly, stretching his limbs, caging me in the sweet trap of his arms. His pants were gone; I felt the hardness, very sizeable hardness budge against my hip. My breath caught in my throat as I stared at him with unseeing eyes and my mouth hanging open slightly.

We kissed lazily for a while, me finally having the chance to roam my hands on his body. He was almost as warm as Bucky - a perk of his own knock-off serum, I supposed. Reasonably toned with a healthy layer of fat, Bruce certainly wasn't ripped or even built like Tony. Banner's body screamed comfort and safety where Tony was all strength and durability. Once again, I marveled at the difference between the two men, finding them both equally appealing and beautiful in their own ways.

Bruce's boxers went to hell and beyond. He was easily the biggest partner I've ever had; both long and thick, my insides clenched involuntarily at the weight of it in my hand, the engorged veins all over the shaft. No time like the present - hiking a leg over his hip, I insistently pressed the leaking tip of his cock against me, swiping it through my folds for extra lubrication beforehand.

The scientist twitched, growling quietly, low and dangerous. "Princess," Bruce hissed, momentarily dropping his forehead onto my shoulder.

"Brucie," I replied breathily, feeling him shudder as the tip breached my entrance. The sting was slightly south of pleasurable, just enough to give me an edge and return to reality. "You're so big," I gasped. The very room I and Bruce were (what felt like) making love. Such a foreign concept. "For the love of both God and Satan, move."

"That's my girl." Giving a watery chuckle, the man obliged, sheathing himself fully within me. I was unprepared for the surge of pleasure - it felt like he was everywhere at the same time. It was unlike everything I'd felt, the burn of the stretch becoming a source of new heights of pleasure.

Bruce's shallow thrusts increased in speed and amplitude as soon as I arched my back, presenting all of myself at his mercy. His movements weren't pounding yet he shook me with every single shift of his hips. "Fuck, so good, my sweet girl," He kept muttering, barely audible. "So tight, so hot, oh God."

The praise only made me clench tighter around him, my orgasm rapidly approaching and finally crashing into both of us with a firm, steady force. His cock throbbed inside me, releasing the seed with force I swear I felt in my guts. I took it all, milking every single drop, there was so much of it. Bruce's release - this one - belonged to me and to me only.

Ever mindful of himself, Bruce rolled over, pressing as close to me as possible, throwing an arm over his eyes. I immediately relocated to make a nest on his chest, idly running my hand through his chest hair. Fascinating.

"Feel good?" And finally he sounded slightly winded. Wow, I couldn't help but wonder what could make him really lose it. What would make him go feral for me. What could trap his breath in his lungs and attach him to me forever.

"Mmm, amazing. You're good at this," My usual snark and sass was returning; I gently teased him. Lovingly.

"That's good to know, it's been a while," He snorted. Must've felt my confusion, too, because the next sentence threw me for a loop: "It's been, uh, years."

Years? For this man?! The universe was unfair. Depriving the entirety of female sex of this man? Abhorrent. "You have quite some things to catch up on," I whispered coyly. "Humbly do I offer my services."

His chest began shaking: Bruce was laughing, no trace of shame, just good-natured relief and happiness in his features. "This is exactly why we love you, Princess. You say the weirdest shit but somehow it all makes perfect sense."

I chuckled, the words spreading warmth - not the physical one - throughout my body and lulling me into a sense of sated exhaustion. I let my eyes fall shut on their own and for the first time in ages, I fell asleep with a calm heart.

Bruce's soft snores kept the bad dreams at bay.

Tony's callous hands roused me tenderly, coaxing the sleep from my brain with grace although there was very little grace about the situation; first thing I noticed upon waking was the sticky puddle between my legs and the sharp smell of sex in the room. Bruce's slightly spicy sweat mixed with the warm vanilla of my perfume. The messed up bedsheets and the warm but empty space next to me.

"Had fun, baby girl?" If Tony's lopsided grin was any indication, I had at least committed some sort of scientific breakthrough. "You know, I had a bet running on when Bruce was going to break his celibacy. If you had waited until next year, which is technically in a few months..." The engineer trailed off teasingly, looking not at all worried about the fact that his best friend had blown my brains out a... Few hours ago.

I cleared my throat. "So, who won?" It seemed only appropriate I ask.

Tony's face immediately fell. "Merlin."

My eyebrows rose. "Didn't take him for the gambling kind." I sat up in bed, stretching the stiffness out of my joints, clearing the sleep from my head with Tony's gaze firmly glued to my naked tits. Some things never change.

"You called him old. That does things to a man's ego," Tony answered dismissively. It was easy to see the obvious pleasure he held for that particular conversation: the billionaire greatly enjoyed it when people gave into his antics and indulged his sometimes childish vices. One of those vices happened to include annoying the resident wizard.

I decided to test the waters. Biting my lip, I gave him an appreciative once-over. "How are you on sloppy seconds?"

He clicked his tongue, eyes sparkling, obviously having expected this question. "I'll join you in the shower. We have thirty minutes before Clint sends Nat down here to retrieve us deviants."

I pranced in the direction of the bathroom, putting an extra wiggle in my walk.

Turns out, Tony had absolutely no problems with sloppy seconds. He was as eager to hold me by my hair, viciously pumping his cock out of me, whispering utter filth into my ear.

His honeyed voice rough, telling me how dirty I was. "You little tart, parading around, making old men drool over you. Fuck, you make me feel like a dirty old man."

I let the sassy remark to be drowned in the sound of his hips slapping against my ass. "I love dirty old men," I moaned. "Want me to get down on my knees for you, daddy?"

"Fuck," Tony's hand tightened in my hair but he made no move to cease the assault on my pussy with his cock. It was steel-hard, deliciously thick and hit all the right places without much effort.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie

[kusagrasskusa]

Yandere Simulator Delinquents.

They're basically copy and paste. Sooo here's my version of them for future reference! I got too excited writing the last one lol- It's been a while since I've been to inspired to write. This is a nice feeling uvu

Umeji Kizuguchi - Yellow guy

He has blonde, previously pink, hair and golden eyes. He wears a yellow shirt under unbuttoned blazer and carries a baseball bat around. He has a scar over his right eye. Umeji is Oroso right hand man and takes over position while she's gone; these are the cannon versions of him and all that's said.

This is my fannon version of him: He was hurt the most during the bullying and therefore the most fearful of pain. He flinches when touched and gets pissed instantly. He's the most cold and aggressive out of the five and it helped him keep him as the most feared of the delinquents. He works out daily, therefore having a good build and likes bitter foods rather than sweets. He'a quite ignorant and refuses to share his likes out of fear of being judged. He still feels depression but now faces more anxiety than anything. He often cries about it late at night.

But despite his depression, he's so determined to stay as a threat to many. It's the kist alive he's ever felt. He's somewhat narcissistic and has both an inferiority and superiority complex, actually. Sensitive to touch and criticism but damn his ego is big. He uses his strength and speed as another threat to fellow students, to let them know that if they mess up then he'll catch and hurt them.

His home life isn't fun. Parents maybe fighting here and there or gone for work or something. It wasn't abusive in any way or anything; in fact, they get along well when they're together. It's just the parents weren't attentive. As Umeji puts it, "My mom, dad, bless their hearts, but they aren't great." They tend to brush things off quickly and spend too much time to themselves.

Dairoku Surikizu - Blue manz

He has blonde, previously blue, hair and blue eyes. He wears a blue shirt under an unbuttoned blazer and carries around a boten or some shit, idk I couldn't figure it out. He has a scar on his lip and from Mulberry's art, it looks like he's the tallest of the group.

Fannonly, he's the most anxious of the group. He never talks about it to anyone but Hokuto, who brushes it off. Dairoku got his scar a long time ago when his parents were agruing; he hid under his bed when he was nine and started to cry. To calm himself, he started to bite his lip and scratch himself on the forearms and face to calm himself down. He cut himself in the process badly and tried to hide it from his parents so he didn't get yelled at.

His home life wasn't too bad either; his dad left the family not long after that incident when he was nine so his mom has to take on the roles of two people. She never has time for him so the other delinquents make him feel so happy. He likes- no, loves to talk to them but tries to look sketchy in the process.

Hokuto Furukizu - Purple manz

He has blonde, previously golden, hair and purple eyes. From Mulberry's art, he seems to be the second tallest, but very close to Dairoku. He carried around a metal pipe and wears a purple shirt under his opened blazer. He has a scar on his cheek too btw.

Fannonly, he talks most to Dairoku. He usually brushed off what he says, but relates to him most. Of the 5, he desperately wants to be normal and free the most. He was well popular in middle school but his anger once got the best of him and a fight caused him to lose a lot of his reputation. It just got worse as time went on however; but he misses those days so much.

His scare on his cheek came from the fight and serves as a curse mark to him; "The day they ruined my life." He hates looking at it and gets pissed off when people even look at it. He's always been hot headed but his physical appearance is his number one insecurity. Hokuto's homelife is normal and he's goodboi at home. Cleans, cooks sometimes, has an equally good relationship with his mom as he does his dad.

He managed to convince them that his new appearance and signs of depression from last year was just influence from ex friends. Eventually they just took his word for it despite how terrible of a lie that is, so they stopped asking.

Gaku Hikitsuri - Red guyz

According to Mulberry's art, the blonde who once had light blue hair and red eyes is the second tallest. He has a scar on his forehead and carried around a crowbar. His shirt is red and under, you guessed it, an unbuttoned blazer.

He's a genuine tsundere; the angriest of the group. He easily crushes on people like a simp and gets nervous easily, so he acts all defensive and aggressive around them especially. Other than Umeji, he's the quickest to shove people around and assert his position. But for the most part, he intentionally shoves and shoulder checks people he finds attractive or who he thinks is superior than him, which is a lot of people.

He suffers from an inferiority complex that makes him think everyone judges him behind his back and talks about him especially. Therefore, he's the loudest and quickest to insults; he's also very self conscious. He's scared to make noise in class, talk, eat in front of people, and others because he's scared to be judged. Because as long as nothing is brought to the table, there's nothing to judge. His scar was actually from Kokoro, the bully who's just a sadist according to the character files from Yandev, who got pissed at him defending himself and hit him down with a ring. He got cut badly and almost passed out from the hit; but hey, it's not like he can do anything about since she's a girl, and he'd be expelled instantly. The bitch even resulted him with a broken arm at some point.

Home life isn't great; rundown trailerpark, alcoholic dad and whole of a step mom, dead mom, things like that. Damn, if only he got more than a mattress on the floor, a cover, pillow, dresser filled with all his clothes and school supplies to live on. But he can't even get a job without his scar making people think he's worse than what his persona displays.

Hayanari Tsumeato - Grey manz

The grey eyed, blonde hair man with natural red hair who carries around a lead pipe is Hayanari, who's last name "Tsumeato" means scratch mark. He has a grey shirt under his unbuttoned blazer and a scar over his nose.

Fannonly, he was the one with the no fucks given attitude. He was usually straight faced and brutally honest when talking to people, but wasn't necessarily judgemental. It's hard to explain but just because he says, "damn Daniel, you're built like a carrot," doesn't mean he cares about his appearance, even if whoever tf Daniel is actually looks like a carrot or not. He was the daredevil who did things solely for his entertainment.

In a way, it was almost sociopathic or narcissistic; he'd be fine with embarrassing someone in front of anyone because it got a smile our of him. If someone complained, he'd roll his eyes and convince whoever that they were overreacting and that they were the one at fault. He's very manipulative and sarcastic, usually just smiling cockily and speaking innocently. Kinda emo, but he wasn't against that title. He actually liked the occult and for the most part, was down for anything that didn't have too much time needed, like school or family.

He was in the middle of everything; okay with cooking, occult, art, science, reading, anine and games, so there wasn't much a person can dislike him for in terms of social standards. He wasn't appart of a dislikes group like the occult kids or science kids, not with a loved group like cooking or art kids. But when he started to express a bit of interest in the occult was when people could finally pin him down and bully him back for all those insulting jokes that sounded way too serious. And before he knew it, he got wrapped up in the hate and couldn't get himself free.

Home life is something he never, not even to his fellow delinquents, never talks about. But one thing worth noting is that he's never seen without a long sleeved shirt or jacket of some kind. He used to pass out time to time during gym classes because he was overheated due to bringing a long sleeved version of the gym shirt to school and never drank anything. When his parents were called, they always insisted on saying they'll do something about it but they never did, either. The delinquents do think there's some kind of abuse at his house; besides, Hayanari is adopted and those things happen often even if it's more common in the foster system.

His family is something he never talks about. Back in middle school, his friends were able to see his "parents" time to time when they picked him up from school. It was immediately obvious that he wasn't related to them; hell, he rarely called them mom or dad. At home, until adopted, was great. Friends coming over, happy family moments, being able to play games and use electronics, things like that. But when he was adopted was when it wouldn't be easy to just tell someone what was to come; quite obviously, it was abuse. Verbal and physical, nearly everyday. It was worse in the beginning but happened less often as he got older.

His "mom" would call the police a few times him because she felt "threatened." She hit him so he would hit back and yell while doing so, so she has evidence of an attack. But luckily, her skin isn't sensitive enough to show any marks unlike Hayanari's. Other times, his "dad" would get involved and hurt him badly.

[yandere-sins]

[1/2] So... I'm the one who asked about non-con themes cause I've heard that when you are sick (flu, fever...), you get horny and that's normal cause it's your body fighting back. So I wanted to request for a yandere!Shoto when he goes to his best friend's house (preferably fem) to take care of her, who is having a fever. After he feeds her and give her medicines, he notices that she is rubbing her thighs and realizes that she is horny when she doesn't even acknowledged it yet (cause she's sick)

Sorry for the long wait, I struggled with the motivation for this, but I think it finally sat around long enough for me to be able to do it! Thank you for requesting and also an interesting fact, I did not know this could be a side-effect, it’s quite surprising!

»»————-———— ♡ ————————-«« 

“Shoto, stop! What are you doing-”

His fingers hooked under the fabric of your panties, and you didn’t have the strength to push him away, only helping him with the flailing of your legs. You could push at his shoulders, but it wasn’t even close to what a built body like Shoto’s needed to be deflected. It was no wonder he had an easy time pulling away your undergarments, along with your pajama pants that sat loosely on your hips, with little effort.

“Don’t worry, I said I would take care of you. I would do whatever is needed for you to feel better.”

“But-” you tried to protest, letting go of his shoulders to cover up your exposed sex, not wanting him to see such a thing. You were already panting from that little bit of effort to shove off the pouncing male, gaining only more concern in his eyes and wrinkles on his forehead. “But not like this!”

Discarding your clothing into a corner of the room, Shoto struggled lightly with capturing your ankles with his hands, fingers sliding upwards your legs the moment he caught them. With what felt much more intense than it probably was, he pulled apart your limbs, freeing some space for himself to conquer between them. “It’s only normal that you’d react like this, you’ve been sick for days.”

Truth be told, he missed you. Whenever your seat stayed empty at university, the lunch bell declared another day without eating with you, the walks home. It had been absolute hell for him to not be able to talk with you properly, to only write you message after message. For a while, you even refused him to enter the apartment when he brought the homework for the day. This was his first chance to help you get better again, and he’d use it as best as he could. 

After all, you wanted this too, right? Getting healthy again, hang out with him. You even wanted him, you had made that clear with your flushed cheeks, the pressing together legs, rare, fleeting touches to your crotch. Even Shoto knew that with fever, sweating was a good cure, and you had given him all the signs that you wanted it too.

“I have to help you,” he announced, pinning your arms to the side of your head as he hovered over you. You were shaking, but he blamed it on you getting colder, the distress in form of tears in your eyes only because you were fighting with yourself, feeling bad that you made him go through such length. “I want to help you, I’d do anything-”

“No-” you whimpered, shaking your head. “But I don’t want that!”

For a split second, you saw the hesitation in his eyes, his mind trying to comprehend as to what could be right in this situation. Shoto was set that this was what you wanted, but could there be a chance you didn’t? Slowly, he leaned down, trying to test the waters with his lips, carefully pushing them against yours. 

He... loved you. Wasn’t it normal to do these things when you loved each other? To help in health and illness? To enjoy each other’s company, to kiss, to fuck? And that tingle in his stomach, flowing deeper, right into his loins, when he kissed you, was just another signal that this was right. Your shaky hands and desperate tries to turn your head away, you must have been a little confused, probably from the fever, because this was what people did when they loved each other. Maybe you couldn’t return these affections yet, but Shoto was sure to make you understand that his was only for your own good. 

Slowly, his kisses got greedier, the lips developing yours while you struggled still to throw him off balance. Of course, you didn’t want this - not while you were sick and not even in a relationship with him. You two had been best friends for years, but right now, you didn’t recognize the lovestruck fool towering over you. You didn’t taste anything when his tongue broke through your barricade, licking and exploring what he seemed to have deemed his, while you felt another cough build in your throat. 

It came out as a miserable, weak huffing, but after initially catching your last bits of air from you, he finally backed off, letting you turn your head to cough it out. You could only imagine how sick he’d be getting from doing this to you. Still, Shoto was undeterred by the germs being transmitted. Exploring your earlobe, he didn’t even jump from the gasp you let out in between your coughing, feeling the heat that was developing all over your face up to the tip of your ears. It was hard to discern if this was from the cold, embarrassment or excitement, but Shoto really bloomed under it, thinking this was your reaction to him.

He wasn’t surprised when he found your cunt hot and bothered against one of his hands sinking down to it, fingers sliding along it gently. You jumped when you noticed the touch, but your body sunk right back into it, not much space to flee him. All around you was the bed, but the headboard was higher than you laid, wall on your right, his body blocking the exit to the left. Shoto, too, panted heavily by now, excited to feel your juices on his fingers, making it so easy to enter you. 

Obviously, you got tighter when you felt him press in, your body so desperately wanting to keep him out. But it didn’t stop him from digging as deep as his knuckles allowed, fumble around inside of you with delight. “This will help,” he reminded you - reminded himself. It was all to your best, even if you still defended yourself against it, gripping his wrist with your hands, trying to tear him out of you. 

You were relieved to see him getting the hint, pulling out only seconds later after enjoying your slick warmth some more, unbothered by his wet fingers. Maybe this nightmare was already finally over, you thought to yourself, taking a deep breath, which caused another cough to erupt. In the midst of it, you didn’t notice Shoto fumbling with his pant’s zippers, unbothered by smearing your juices all over himself as he got out his cock. 

To say he was excited about this, was an understatement. Shoto truly believed this would help you, and you two could bond over it, unaware of how this would affect your relationship. Only when he settled his tip against your entrance, starting to push his hips forward, did you realize the extent of his craze, causing you to struggle more in your panic, flailing wildly.

“No-!” you were going to argue when he entered you completely, causing your breath to hold, and even Shoto wasn’t immune to the feeling, groaning loudly as he sunk into you. For a moment, it got quiet between you two as you held back your scream, both too flashed with the sensation of what just happened. The only thing that seemed to work properly was your cough reflex, lungs protesting under your stress and shortness of air.

He was the first to move, sloppily pulling and thrusting his hip. Slow at first, then another one, as if he needed to see if this worked the way he was doing it, before he found a better pace, your coughs adjusting to it, before he picked up the movements. 

Caging you under himself, he didn’t so much take off his clothes or removed more of yours, but you still felt his weird mix of body temperature against you. Admittedly, it felt good to have his cold and warm brush against you, but to enjoy this rare pleasure, you wouldn’t have needed the long cock fucking your pussy.

“Please, just...” you WANTED him to stop, you really did, but this didn’t quite convey through your moans and gasps, only every interrupted by your coughs. You were growing warmer by the second, agitated through your hazy mind and body that screamed at you. This certainly was not what you wanted, but it was what it wanted, and you could scream and shout, but even that wouldn’t have stopped Shoto.

Being connected with the one he loved felt amazing.

Maybe your cold had spread on him, but he never felt that good before, his mind hazed by ecstasy more than an illness. Every push he did was like drinking a shot of ambrosia, taking a drug. He needed more, always more, his body could barely keep up with the pace he wanted to experience. And you were just as amazing, walls vibrating around his member, you were so incredibly warm and soft against him.

Shoto could have held you in his arms forever, that was just how good he felt. Even if you quivered, called his name, tried to make him stop, he was obsessed with feeling all of you, your inside, your outsides, it was amazing. When you came, it was like an explosion for himself. He felt it through you, and so it was on him to handle these wonderful sensations of you tightening, crying out in pleasure, even in the cough ripping through your lungs was some he felt.

But it wasn’t any of those sensations that could stop him. He just continued as you whined, “Please, slow down! At least- At least, give me a minute!” and Shoto gladly returned to his faster pace, feeling your body give away under the pressure he put onto you. This. This was good for you. He loved being able to do this for you, even without you appreciating just how strongly he was going at it. 

No one else could ever make you feel like this. No sensation would ever come close to this for neither of you. This overstimulation was bliss! A kiss of the gods, if one would like to call it that. And you would enjoy it at some point, Shoto was sure of that! He was the only one that could heal and give you this pleasure, unknown to either of you before.

However, things must come to an end. In between the fog in his mind, he didn’t notice his closing moments, hips burying themselves deeper and deeper as before, his cock dragging along your walls unforgivingly. Until it was there, the final release, the feeling of his semen mixing in with your juices, stirring up your insides. In there, you must have looked like a canvas splattered with his cum, sperm everywhere. It didn’t even matter if this was the load to get you pregnant or not, knowing it was his that was buried inside was enough satisfaction to even his primal instincts.

You were marked. Marked by him.

You were his.

Shoto pulled out surprisingly rapidly, reaching for some tissues on the close by table as your coughs turned into gurgles. Wiping off the torrent of fluids dripping out of you, he watched it with fascination, wondering if any sight in this world was more beautiful of a connection than his semen dripping out of your pussy. “How are you feeling?” he asked, smiling, happy, but he could wait long for an answer.

All of this was just too much in combination with your fever and burning lungs, simply rendering you unable to stay awake any longer from the inevitable exhaustion. A few last affection that you felt was his wiping at your folds, a kiss pressed to your temple, and a hand brushing over the sweaty mess of hair on your head. 

“Rest well, I will make sure you’ll be all cured when you wake up,” you heard him whisper into your ear, and your last thought was just how beautiful it would be to be healthy again.

[blueeyedheizer]

under her wing - castor

WARNINGS: sickness, mention of needles, talks of death, violence

A/N: holy shit. I've had this fic in my WIPs for officially a year now. 🥴 It kinda sucks that no more than 5 people are going to read it but oh well... you get used to it 😂 It's my longest fic so far (4,4k words) I hope it isn't too confusing for those who haven't seen the show, I tried to keep it light on the characters and specific words used in the show. Some parts (ending included) might be a bit rushed cause in all honesty, i lost interest in this fic and ran out of inspiration so...yeah sorry about that but I really wanted to post it anyway :)

•••

"The boy's loyalty is impressive. But he's getting worse, and we're getting nowhere." you heard Nathaniel say as you placed a cold cloth on the boy's forehead, hoping for his fever to cool down a bit. You couldn't help but let your eyes explore his features as you took care of him. A couple of scars traveled across his cheeks, and his neck was covered in black veins contrasting with his pale skin. His eyes were closed, but you remembered them being some of the brightest blue you'd ever seen. He looked almost delicate despite the ferocity of his soul. Your eyes then wandered on his chest. About a dozen needles were pierced on it. The Widow said they were a necessary precaution, as the gift made him dangerous. You dipped the cloth back in the cold water before spreading it over his forehead again.

"I take it my regeant has a suggestion." the Widow continued, interrupting the small silence that had filled the room.

"Cut off his head, and send it to Pilgrim. Punishment for raiding the camp." your head shot right up.

"What?!" you left the boy's side to face Nathaniel, a look of horror on your face. "He's just a boy, Nathaniel. We're absolutely not killing him." you spat, emphasizing on 'absolutely not'. The room went silent for a moment and you scoffed, averting your eyes from Nathaniel to glance at the Widow. "Mother, say something!" you pleaded, throwing your arms in the air to show your frustration. She remained silent for a moment, pacing around as she thought of an alternative.

"We could use the boy's devotion as a weapon to weaken Pilgrim."

"The man's a zealot, we need to send a clear message."

"I won't let you do that, Nathaniel. Everything doesn't always have to be solved with cutting heads off. You'll have to find another way." you crossed your arms over your chest, well determined not to let him have the last word on this. The Widow's pacing came to a stop and she sighed.

"We're keeping him here for now until he gets better." she continued, looking at you. "If he ever does. But he's under your responsibility."

-

The same day, Cressida showed up to the Sanctuary and, as expected, threatened to attack if the boy wasn't given back to Pilgrim. After lots of talking, arguing and being on the verge of fighting, all four of you eventually agreed on a deal. Three of the widows' Butterflies were to be temporarily sent into Pilgrim's army in exchange for you to keep the boy and take care of him for a strict amount of time. 4 months, nothing more, nothing less. And if the boy dies in your hands, the Butterflies die with him.

You were the one who suggested the deal in the first place. You saw Minerva and Nathaniel's eye widen when the words left your mouth, but you felt like this had to be done. Something about the boy was intriguing, and you needed to know more about him.

The Widow had given you the order to take him to the small spare room she had originally got built to keep M.K. locked. You were against the idea of locking him up at first, but you couldn't push aside the fact that he was a Dark One, therefore much stronger than you and a potential danger to you and everyone else.

You let him get some well deserved rest and came back two hours later to check up on him.

Unlocking the door, you stepped inside before carefully locking it again behind you and walking towards him. He was finally awake, lids still half closed as his sickness got the best of him, tiring him out mercilessly. You stared at him for a moment before speaking up.

"How are you feeling?" he didn't answer. Not with words anyway. But his cold, hard glare told you that he wasn't planning on getting friendly with you. You took a sit on a chair nearby, resting your forearms on your lap.

"Tell me. How does Pilgrim control your gift? I saw him turn it off." you stated, your eyes meeting his.

"You think you know about the gift? About us? You know nothing." he spat. "Pilgrim was chosen."

"By whom?"

"By Azra." You stayed silent for a moment and frowned, stunned by how brainwashed he seemed to be.

"There's no such thing as Azra." You barely managed to get those few words out before he suddenly grabbed your wrist and pulled you down in one swift movement, rolling over and pinning you to the bed, the side of his forearm over your throat as his other hand held a blade flat against your cheek leaving you helpless.

"You know nothing about us, about Azra. About what we're fighting for." he insisted, speaking through gritted teeth.

"I may not know everything...but there is nothing beyond the Badlands." you retorted, your heart accelerating. You were well aware that the knife was still dragging across your cheek yet you were brave enough to let the words out. "This is the only ground left on earth. This...thing Pilgrim calls a safe haven, it doesn't exist. He's lying to you." You hissed, crying out when the blade pierced your skin slightly. "What do you think will happen when you're gone? He's using you, because he's nothing without your power." you continued. You could feel your face start to redden from the lack of oxygen "Just think about it." you whispered, his eyes staring dead into yours. You swallowed thickly, trying to turn your face away from the knife.

"He already found my replacement." The tone of his voice caused your expression to soften slightly. He seemed defeated, it was as if he knew his life was already over and the only thing he kept fighting for was his faith in this so called safe haven. You could tell his hands were shaking, and he was having a hard time holding himself up with his arms. A few more seconds passed by and the pressure on your throat loosened, allowing you to breathe somewhat properly again.

"I'm just trying to help." you continued in a much softer tone. "Your fever's getting worse, you won't make it if we let you go now. So please, let me help you."

Before any of you could move, you were interrupted by a shout of your name. Nathaniel and Minerva suddenly burst in the room and within just a few seconds Nathaniel had Castor on the floor with both hands around his neck.

"Nathaniel stop!" you managed to scream as you sat up and held your throat, trying to catch your breath. Nathaniel wouldn't let go, his grip on Castor tightening as he fought to free himself from his grip. You jumped from the bed, landing on the older man's back, trying to push him off the boy. "Enough!" you screamed. "Let go of him!"

"He was trying to kill you, Y/N !" Nathaniel retorted, finally letting go of him.

"I had everything under control!" you said as you helped Castor on his feet, letting him hold onto you for support. You glanced at him and had to fight back a gasp as you noticed his state.

"You're bleeding..." you said as you moved your hands to his cheek, lifting his face up to inspect the source of the bleeding. "Lay back down. Come on." He was shaking, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead as he coughed. He reluctantly complied, laying back on the bed and wiping the blood off his nose.

As soon as the boy was laid back, the Widow placed a hand over your shoulder, turning you around so you could face her.

"Are you okay, did he hurt you?" she asked as she cupped your face, inspecting the small cut on your cheek, but you swiftly pushed her hand away.

"I'm fine."

"Y/N, you have to understand—"

"Look at him, for God's sake!" you suddenly yelled, startling everyone in the room. "Look at him, and tell me this boy currently has enough strength to actually hurt me." you spoke more calmly this time as you pointed to Castor. The single effort of holding himself up above you had drained him of his strength. He was breathing heavily with his eyes closed, his cheeks wet from both sweat and a few tears that had escaped the corner of his eyes. Minerva and Nathaniel were rendered speechless as they both stared at you, not knowing what to say. They didn't seem to understand why you were so invested in taking care of him, and to be completely honest, you didn't know either. There was just something about him that made you want to keep him safe.

You shook your head and scoffed before walking over to the bed and grabbing the wet cloth from the bowl, spreading it back over Castor's forehead.

-

The next day, you decided to pay him a visit early in the morning. You had woken up in the middle of the night and couldn't get back to sleep, your mind constantly going back to him. You had so many questions. What was this safe haven he told you about? Was there actually something beyond the Badlands? Why was the Gift so harmful to him if he was born with it? Your brain simply wouldn't shut off.

You greeted him politely as you opened the door to the small room, once again making sure to close it behind you.

"You can't keep me here forever." he said, not bothering with niceties. "Pilgrim will come for me. And when he does you won't live another day." the boy spat through gritted teeth, causing you to chuckle slightly. You ignored him.

"Did you get any sleep?" no answer. "I'm not your enemy, you know." you said, looking at him over your shoulder as you sterilized a needle. "I mean, technically, I am. But I really don't want to be."

"You knocked me out and kidnapped me."

"I also saved your life. And for the record, you punched me in the chest until I was left coughing blood on the floor. That makes us even." you continued. "Why don't you tell me your name?" you asked. Cressida had already mentioned his name but you wanted him to tell you himself, as a sign of trust. He didn't answer though, which caused you to sigh. "Well, I'm Y/N. If it weren't for me your head would be laying at Pilgrim's feet as we speak." he didn't say anything. Instead he pulled harder on the chains that were wrapped around his wrists and started to move around, trying to find a way to free himself.

"You're going to hurt yourself. You should save your strength." you said, flicking the needle before turning around and walking towards him. He fell back on the bed with a defeated sigh and gulped hard, his face contorting in what looked like worry. Or was it fear? You couldn't really tell. He closed his eyes, chest heaving up and down heavily. You frowned when you noticed his sudden change of demeanor. "Hey, hey. Calm down." you tried to bring him some comfort by placing your hand on his forehead, wanting to check his fever at the same time. He clenched his jaw but didn't complain. His forehead was still burning and you tried not to show your concern, not wanting to worry him more than he already was.

"What's in this?" he wondered, nodding towards the needle, the cracking of his voice destroying his attempt at sounding confident.

"Something I hope will help with your fever." your eyes met and you sighed. "Look— the chains weren't my idea. I was against it. But after what happened yesterday the Widow thought that keeping you chained would be safer for me. But I promise I have no intention of hurting you." you spoke. "I might even take them off, if you cooperate. I only want to help you get better." You stated matter of factly. Castor scanned your face in search of any indication that you might be lying, but all he saw was genuine concern. "Do you trust me?" you asked. He stayed silent for a moment before nodding slowly. He was in so much pain, he really had nothing to lose. You nodded your head back at him and moved, ready to stick the needling in his arm. "Ready?"

"Yes."

You smiled softly, trying your best to get him to relax as you prepared the injection site on his shoulder. Castor looked away and winced a little when the needle was inserted, but you were quick to pull it out after it was emptied, the medication being easily injected into his body.

"All done." you smiled as you held a compress on the area, wiping off the tiny spot of blood before throwing it away. "Now get some rest. It'll probably knock you out for a while."

"Wait." he interrupted as you were about to leave, causing you to turn to him.

"My name. It's Castor." you smiled.

"It's nice to meet you, Castor."

-

You came back everyday for the next several weeks, repeating the same process. You tended to his wounds and gave him the medicine he needed to ease the pain caused by the Gift. Castor was still reluctant at first, and it went like this for a couple more days until he warmed up to you and eventually trusted you fully.

It would be safe to say the two of you became close, much closer than either of you would have ever expected.

-

"Y/N, may I speak to you for a moment?" The Widow asked, peeking from the door to your room. You looked up from your book and nodded before motioning for her to come in. She noticed Azra's book in your hands and took a seat across from you. "Can you read it yet?"

"No. Nothing about this book makes sense." you sighed with a shrug, handing it to her. She nodded but didn't say anything. You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms across your chest as you rested your back on the head of your bed. "I suppose this isn't the main purpose of your visit."

"You know Castor won't stay here forever, do you?" she told you.

"I know. Why?"

"You won't see him again once he's gone." she insisted. You sighed softly, rubbing your face with your hands.

"I know that too, Mother."

"I'm not blind to the feelings you have for each other. But I need to make sure you know this thing you two have going on can't and won't last forever." she spoke softly, reaching to take your hand in hers. You nodded and gave her a small smile. There was no point avoiding the topic or lying about it.

-

Castor's recovery was going great, you even started to believe he was close to being completely healed.

But that was until his fever suddenly spiked.

You didn't know how or why it happened so suddenly. One day he was completely fine, the next he was laying almost unconscious on the bed, his breathing uneven as he struggled to keep his eyes open.

"Y/N...I don't think there's anything else we can do for him." Tilda spoke softly, her hand resting on your shoulder comfortingly.

"Yes. Yes we can. We need to bring a doctor, they'll know what to do. This is what we should've done since the beginning." you spoke firmly, applying a cold cloth on his forehead, your own breathing becoming uneven as your anxiety grew.

Castor whined and mumbled something unintelligible as more tears fell down his cheeks. He slowly moved his head to the side, his tired eyes meeting yours, silently begging you to make the pain go away.

"You're gonna be okay. I'm right here." you cupped his cheek with your hand, your thumb brushing it softly as you looked back at him, a tear escaping your eye.

"Quinn murdered our only doctor, Y/N. You know that."

"Then bring the doctor's daughter! She'll know what to do." you looked over your shoulder. "Tilda, please, I can't...—" you inhaled deeply, closing your eyes as you spoke. "I can't lose him. Okay?" you admitted in a whisper.

Silence fell in the room, only the sound of Castor's breathing filling it.

"Y/N...I really don't think that's a good idea." Tilda watched you with a pained expression. At those words you tried to keep more tears at bay, but your efforts were vain.

Tilda knew how close the both of you had grown, but most importantly she knew you had already lost way too many people in your life. With a small sigh, she eventually took her final decision before exiting the room.

"I'll see what I can do."

-

[Time skip : two weeks]

As soon as Tilda walked in the room you rushed to her and wrapped your arms around her neck, hugging her tight. She had done everything in her power to get Castor the help he needed, persuading the Window to get in contact with Veil. Both women had a long discussion about it and The Widow had to do a lot of convincing but thankfully, Veil agreed on offering her help.

After days of intense treatment and sleepless nights, Castor was finally out of danger.

"Thank you. Thank you so much for doing this." you whispered, holding her close.

"You're welcome, Y/N. I'm glad he's okay." you smiled at her, nodding before pulling away to give Veil the same grateful embrace.

"Thank you, Veil. I owe you."

"It's nothing. You did a great job at keeping him alive yourself. He probably wouldn't have made it this far without the medicine you gave him." she pulled back and looked over to the sleeping boy next to you. You smiled and nodded slowly, thanking her one last time and bidding her farewell as she left. Tilda followed, leaving you alone with Castor.

You sat on the chair next to his bed and took his hand into yours, holding it while you waited for him to wake up, which he did after about 10 minutes.

"Hey." you smiled, reaching over to cup his cheek, softly stroking his scars. "How are you feeling?"

"Better." he mumbled as he tried to sit up, wincing as he did. His head was still hurting from the heavy medication.

"Hey, easy." you placed a hand on his chest, easing him back down. Castor groaned, eyes closing as his head fell back against the pillow. Moving from your sitting position, you poured him a glass of water and then returned to his side. "Here."

Taking the glass from you, he only took a few sips before already giving it back. After that, a small silence settled between you two.

"Are you sure you're okay?" you murmured. He didn't answer immediately, seemingly deep in thoughts.

"Why are you so good to me, Y/N? When I first got here, you never tried to get revenge for what I did to you. You've always been here for me, taking care of me when I never did anything to deserve half of it. Why?" you smiled, looking down at your hands.

"Because I believe you're not like Pilgrim." You stared at each other in silence for a couple seconds.

"He took care of me when no one else would. He's a good person, Y/N."

At that you chose not to answer, not wanting this to grow into an argument since Castor was always quite defensive when it came to Pilgrim. Instead you just smiled and squeezed his hand, letting him know that he would always have you.

And before you knew it, it was time to let him go.

-

Sitting by the window, you watched as everyone got ready for Pilgrim's arrival.

"Are you okay?" a voice interrupted your thoughts. Nodding, you quickly wiped your wet cheeks and put on a smile, holding your arms close to yourself.

"Yeah."

Castor smiled sympathetically as he took a step closer, crouching in front of you to try and meet your gaze. He was doing much better than the past weeks. His skin had regained its normal color, his eyes were brighter than you'd seen them before. And after a long, exhausting fight, his fever was gone for good, and he was ready to be sent back where he belonged. You lowered your head, only for him to tenderly lift your chin.

"As soon as we find Azra..." he started, intertwining his fingers with yours. "I'll come back for you."

"Castor..."

"I know. I know you think there's no safe haven. But I promise you it's worth believing in."

"Cas...even if you do find Azra, Pilgrim will never let me through. I've never had faith in it, and I still don't. We're supposed to be enemies." you gave him a sad smile, reaching out to brush your thumb over his cheek.

"I'll find a way. You're my family now, Y/N."

You ran a hand through his hair, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to his forehead and nodding against it. Your eyes were tightly shut, a couple tears falling freely.

"Castor, Y/N..." the Widow's voice interrupted. "It's time."

-

You felt Castor's hand brush against yours as you walked side by side, then your fingers intertwined. The two of you walked close to each other, making sure no one could see them.

With one last squeeze, he let go of your hand and walked over to Pilgrim. The older man pulled him into a fatherly embrace, his face filled with relief and gratefulness before pulling away.

"Thank you for taking care of my son and bringing him back to me." Pilgrim spoke, looking at you then the Widow. You nodded politely before glancing over to Castor who was now greeting his sister, Nix. You had to fight back tears as your eyes met one last time. You nodded at him with a bittersweet smile before turning on your heels and walking away.

-

6 months later

It was the third time in three weeks that the Sanctuary had been attacked. You were still completely clueless as to who you were fighting against, but after so many attacks in such a short amount of time they sure had something against the Widow. It was something you were used to though, and you considered yourself lucky that other clans were here to help because without them most of your people would've been dead by now. The losses were heavy this time, though. The enemy had great advantage over you and a dozen of your people along with those from the helping clans had been killed or badly injured.

You were gathering the bodies when you were startled by a familiar voice coming from behind you, causing you to still. You waited an instant before turning around, your eyes searching for the source.

And then you saw him.

"Castor." you breathed out, a smile spreading over your lips as you made your way to him. As soon as you made eye contact you lunged forward, dropping what you were doing and throwing your arms around his neck with a relieved laugh. Castor's arms immediately found their way around your waist wrapping tightly around you as he pulled you close. You pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, your thumb rubbing underneath his eyes and down his cheek, tracing his scars with your fingertips.

"What are you doing here? Why— Why didn't you come back sooner?" you asked in a bittersweet tone.

Your questions were left unanswered as he pressed his lips against yours, his hands immediately moving to cup your face. You were taken aback at first but eventually you gave in, closing your eyes. You lips comfortably moved in sync, allowing the kiss to last for a moment. Now was probably not the best time for this to happen, but you couldn't care less.

"He killed Nix." he murmured after parting from the kiss.

"What?"

"Pilgrim. He killed her." your hand rested on his cheek, stroking it soothingly. He was on the verge of tears, fighting hard to stop them from falling. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, your eyes searching for his. So many questions were running through your head. Why did Pilgrim kill Nix? She was like a daughter to him. Did she betray him? Did Castor come back here to find shelter? However you knew the wound was too fresh for you to start asking questions as his eyes betrayed the pain he was trying to hide.

You looked around yourself to see if anyone needed help, but it seemed like everything was being handled. You locked eyes with the Widow from afar and you exchanged a nod.

"Follow me." you grabbed Castor's hand and led him inside the Sanctuary, locking yourself in a room. As soon as you were away from the chaos you pulled him in for a proper hug, taking a deep breath of relief as you held him close to yourself.

"I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you too." he murmured, his eyes closing for a moment as he tightened his hold around your waist and finally allowed himself to cry. "You were right about everything." he chuckled sadly, causing you to pull away. "Azra was nothing but a made up lie. If it ever existed, it doesn't anymore. It was wiped out with the Old World." you nodded understandingly before leaning over to press a lingering kiss to his cheek.

"It's not your fault Cas. You couldn't know."

"No, but I could've listened to you."

You smiled sympathetically, caressing his cheeks gently with your thumbs.

"You trusted Pilgrim. He was your family, I wouldn't have expected you to choose me over him." you whispered.

Then a comfortable silence settled between the two of you. Nothing more needed to be said, not yet, you were both happy to have found each other again.

"Have you found another Baron?"

"No, i'm on my own. Nix and I were still looking for one when..." he paused.

"It's okay." you interrupted, cradling his face in your hands and pressing your forehead against his. "You don't have to explain." he nodded, closing his eyes. "You're safe with me now. I promise."

[cosmictulips]

Good time, it's very nice to know you exist 🍵🛶🏰🪔🍯🍯🍯 I'm 18, T, libra sun, leo moon, cap ris. if u could help, that'd be a big thank you

recently I've been feeling kinda shut off from any type of spirituality, universe, can't trust my own mind because i don't want to make things up and go with a lie, not imagination play - a terrible lie to oneself. so, i can only trust others. been asking for a clear sign that i wouldn't doubt for as long as i can remember, and nothing... am i tryna knock on the door that wasn't meant for me? then i don't understand anything. i feel left out of my own life. i try pulling out any advice, but then, my intuition may be just wishful thinking. nothing i ever do comes as i intend. I've let go of logic, of expectations, but it feels like a one way communication. can't remember dreams. locked out of everything and losing hope. i don't think it's a wall i made. i don't want to make up a voice in my head, it is my biggest fear, i want to actually hear one.

so, one question - why am i being unanswered?

pun unintended

thank you in advance, you're very kind.

have a wonderful weekend, and every weekend some good news

Hey Friend =) I truly hope other people see this ask too because I think your ask is very important.  so I hope you don’t mind that I kind of get personal with you.  Truth be told,  I’ve been feeling the exact same way recently.  it’s happened when I was first starting out with the Craft -as I like to call it -  and it happens from time to time.  even now.  these past two weeks have been a wreck for me and it really feels like I haven’t been heard by the universe.  No, not heard.  I’ve been heard.  but to me, it feels like I’ve been deemed unworthy.   

And especially with divination,  reading for myself has always been wrong.  which is why I no longer trust reading for myself.  and I don’t particularly trust it when people say they read for themselves. because too me, how do you know you’re not lying to yourself? I always, always tell people to be careful because the universe can and WILL tell you what you want to hear.  it’s hard approaching divination with a very unbiased, neutral head.  and it’s kind of why I’ve fought some people over their readings.  people only ever project to others and to the univeres what they want. so if I or you were to tell them otherwise, it’s wrong. 

So you’re right to take a step back if it doesn’t feel right to you.  and here’s where I’m going to start contradicting myself a little bit here.  You need to start trusting yourself.  fully, undoubtedly and ruthlessly.  trust yourself so much that people almost think you’re full of arrogance.  and that’s the key word, almost. Be open minded enough to new ideas and to change the way you think of things.  but always, always trust yourself to know what is best for you. Only YOU are going to know the best route to take for yourself. 

I started being answered when I started trusting the guidance that was coming in for me.  I started to notice the little signs at first.  Notice any repeating numbers?  colors?  any certain phrases you hear too often? read too often?  is there an animal or group of animals that tend to show up at odd places?  slowly start to take notice of these things.   Also,  truly dig deep into what you believe in.  if you want to get into spirituality,  ask yourself why. what is it that you believe that matches that.   I got into it because I felt so alone in a church and no one was listening.  and for awhile, I was thrown in circles the minute I opened myself up to the universe.  but instead of blocking it out,  I kept pushing.  I kept trying to see the pattern, and I kept trying to change it. 

and that could be what’s happening for you.  I know you said that you think it’s not a wall you built. but darling, it is.   I think it comes from a fear you’re not ready to recognize yet.   it could be the fear of the unknown, it could be a fear of failure,  but you’ve built a wall.  

Spirituality is made for everyone.   It’s okay to have blocks,  to doubt your abilities and be unsure of whether or not the universe actually hears you.  the universe brought you to me.  so obviously it hears you.  =) 

but you cannot hear it and I think that’s what needs to change.  

So let me give you some advice on what I do when I begin to feel these blocks. like I have been recently. 

1. I pray to my gods.  you don’t have to be into worshiping gods.  you can simply pray to the universe like I did and still do from time to time.  You’ll know it’s listening when you feel the warmth of the sun, and the gentle breeze of the wind.  perhaps you’ll see an animal or two ;) my sister is a good example of this, she sees dogs everywhere when she’s looking for a sign from the universe lol.  2. I turn to divination.  My readings for myself may not be true but it’s good practice.  I also turn to other forms to try to grow in those skills as well.  Runes, bindrunes, automatic writing,  etc there’s SO MANY divination techniques.  tarot may not be your thing but scrying might be.  look around and see what fits.

3. I play hertz music.  I find that music really helps me out lol.  hertz is juts frequency waves set to a certain wave length so parts of ... our... ... so like our energy can pick up on it.  there’s a better explanation for it but for me, it really helps lol  4. I keep pushing.  even when it feels like I’m not being answered, and sometimes you won’t be answered. that’s the thing.  the universe wants you to better yourself. and to grow.  and sometimes that means trusting yourself to know where to go because it won’t give you an answer.  be brave, and go forward. 

I’ll go more into what I want you to do, but let me pull out your cards first so you finally have a reading lolol.  

So for you I pulled the Lovers, Strength, The Sun and the Knight of Pentacles. with the Ace of Cups as the overall energy. 

so it’s really what I’ve been saying lol.  The knight of pentacles here is telling me to move slowly.  it’s okay that things don’t make sense to you right off the bat.  Patience is a virtue here.   Going into your craft, your practice,  it’s okay to question things.  spirituality is a lot different than most religions so coming from a different place and settling into a new one can be tough.  it requires a lot of change.  and that tends to scare some people.  Ya know?  we’re all so used to hearing different things -mostly bad-  about sprituality and how it’s all “fake”  but darling,  dipping your toes in and slowly breaking the surface is how everyone starts out.  Once you get comfortable with the idea and with your own intuition the fun will begin. 

Next you have the Lovers, Strength and the Sun.  This is telling me you need to let yourself love.  bring courage and strength into this.  It’s going to take you loving yourself,  being confident in yourself and going forth even if it seems fake.  does that make sense?  You might have a mental illness. I’ve got some strong anxiety that borders on paranoia.   Okay,  but in my heart of hearts I knew this was the call for me because I’ve seen too much shit to not believe spirituality wasn’t my path.  so I forced myself to be more confident in my abilities.  I forced myself to be open to the universe even if it felt like I was talking to a wall.  I forced myself to sit down and learn divination and kept a dream journal even if most nights there was nothing but darkness.

and you need to bring that to yourself.  if you are serious about this,  learn to open yourself to the universe.  In the beginning I had to lie to myself.  it’s just what it is.  but the more I connected to the universe,  and the more I began to trust my intuition,  the more the lying ceased to happen.  because suddenly it was true.  suddenly those signs told me I was on the right path.  and suddenly everything I was studying made sense.  given time it will make sense for you as well. 

People, including me,  are telling you what you already know.  You just don’t trust yourself to hold onto those words.  you don’t trust yourself enough to put that same love into you and out into the universe.  and maybe you’re afraid of getting hurt.  being vulnerable to the universe does mean that sometimes we go through rough patches.  we have to break old cycles for new ones to begin. but much like the Lovers,  once you make that choice to love and be loved,  you will shine. 

The ace of cups tells me there is something new coming for you.  but you have to choose to let it happen okay?  you have to stop thinking you’re not good enough and that you’re not being heard.  because you are... because you’re here talking to me ;)   the universe wouldn’t have sent you to me if that wasn’t the case.  and I think a part of you knows that. 

so here’s what I want you to do.  Take the first steps.  Start keeping a dream journal.  the only way we as humans can recall our dreams is if we’re actively thinking of them when we first wake up.  that means no media ;)  lay there and think about what you dreamed.  Like last night I had a dream I set the house on fire and was crying that I lost a textbook.  idk, it was weird lol.  dreams don’t have to make sense.   write them down.  keep a glass of water by your bed. for some reason it helps. 

If you’re gonna sit there and tell me but you’ve tried everything, try again ;) try it from a new perspective.  instead of going in all “this is going to fail”  think of it as “this has already worked once and I’m doing it again to better myself”  

let your confidence shine.  I had to lie to myself everyday until I finally believed I was a decent human being.  I still struggle with it but damn have I gotten noticed by more people who tell me that I literally shine like the sun.  people notice your changes.  some of us just won’t say it ;) that being said, be prepared to fight for your beliefs. 

Learn what your beliefs are. Learn to defend them.  because the universe does not take this journey lightly.  the minute you start to doubt that you’re ever made for this, is going to be the second it closes on you until you force yourself to try again.  much like how we’re both in this spot now ;) trust and KNOW that the universe wants what is best for you.  

Tap into your higher self and your shadow self.  work on what needs to be healed and what your higher self wants for you to do.  this could literally be anything from getting therapy, to doing art, to listening to music, to talking to people who have hurt you.  like it’s endless but it helps.  

Lastly,  understand that these things take time.  You have some major energy wanting to work with you.  you need to start trusting yourself more, and letting down that wall. you built it, you can destroy it.  

I don’t hear a voice telling me which way to go.  I get feelings.  very strong ones.  that I’ve had to learn are different from my anxiety.  In the beginning that meant I had to pretend to ignore the feeling to see what the reaction would be.  when something happened and I knew it was going to happen,  I knew what I had felt was my intuition. 

Learn to recognize what is your instinct and what is your intuition. my instinct is that my hands get a little shaky and I can’t stop moving around.  my intuition keeps me still.  it’s quick and alert.  for you it could be something different.  you might actually hear a voice.  

I’m willing to work with you if you want me to.  I’ve been in that exact same situation and form time to time I feel the same way.  it’s never about the destination, it’s always the journey.

You’ve got this.  You know you do.  break down the wall,  and come join us ;) I hope this helps sorry for the long.... long post lmao If you ever need anything, please reach out =) 

[yetanotherauthor]

A gift for @writhingbeneathyou :D

Pairing: HashiramaTobirama Word count: 7628 Rated: E Summary: As an alpha uninterested in finding a mate and even less interested in examining why, Tobirama has long decided he would rather spend a lifetime following his beloved older brother.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

Where I’ve Always Belonged

Sometimes Tobirama felt a little silly applying scent before battle. He was already an alpha, no one would ever know the scent was natural rather than applied if he skipped perfuming himself. But a tradition was a tradition and if his father had ever been right about anything it was that a shinobi could never have enough precautions. If all the omega in their clan had to apply scent to hide themselves then the alphas would do it too; no enemy would ever be able to tell the difference between who was actually an alpha and who was merely hiding their true dynamic.

From an early age he had taken his cues from the older brother he idolized, readying himself for war in his own room, a private time that he allowed no one to intrude upon. Some things are learned without questions and from watching Hashirama he learned that battle preparation was a very personal ritual. Today he stared at himself in the mirror and wondered how the world would change now that he only had one other alpha he needed to bow to. Bending his spine for Butsuma had always been a challenge no matter that the man was his own father and deserved a certain amount of respect for being the leader of their clan, if nothing else. With Hashirama it was different. In all his years Tobirama had never once felt threatened by his older sibling and it made coexisting in the same house much easier between them.

Perhaps he should have been more saddened by his father’s death a few weeks before but Tobirama had lost most of his familial affection for Butsuma the day he attempted to strike one of his own children over the freshly dug grave of another. Without the man around Tobirama found himself only glad not to clash so often with another alpha who may have equaled him in strength but surpassed him in authority only by virtue of having taken power before Tobirama was born.

Now he had only Hashirama to follow and Tobirama would follow his beloved Hashirama anywhere. Even in to battle with the Uchiha where he knew his brother would seek out the one he insisted on calling friend so many years after Madara himself had declared their friendship ended. Checking himself over one last time to make sure he had all the weapons and seals he typically carried with him, Tobirama stepped out of his room and moved down the hallway to rap his knuckles against Hashirama's door. The importance of respecting a person’s private space had been beaten in to him at a young enough age that it didn’t matter how long Butsuma lay in the ground, Tobirama would probably never let himself in to another person’s room without knocking for the rest of his life.

“Are you ready, Anija?”

“Just a moment!” The sound of Hashirama's harried cry made him roll his eyes. If ever there was a time to put his best foot forward it would be now while his position as leader of the Senju clan was still a bit rocky. Inheritance was one thing but there were several alphas who saw an opportunity for themselves in a young untested heir.

“You should be ready before anyone else,” Tobirama called through the door with a shadow of disapproval in his voice.

He listened for the huff he knew was coming and then Hashirama was throwing open the door to stick a tongue in his direction. “I just forgot something okay!”

“Sometimes I swear you would forget your own skin if you weren’t wearing it.” Tobirama shook his head and turned to leave, Hashirama scrambling after him and already wearing a pout.

“Would not! I mean, I’d be bleeding all over the place and there would be so many muscles and bones exposed; even I couldn’t miss something like that.” He grinned in triumph as though making the final point in an argument. Tobirama blinked at him slowly and decided he simply looked too happy to fight with.

Hashirama got out of many arguments by looking happy. It was a weakness Tobirama seemed to suffer only for him and it was, in a word, embarrassing. No hardened shinobi should be so weak to a simple smile.

Together they left the house and made their way towards the front gate of the Senju compound where Hashirama took point at the head of their forces and Tobirama stayed where he had always belonged, a single pace behind to watch his back. Where he had chafed at his position of third in command when their father was head of the clan he was perfectly content to remain second in command so long as it was Hashirama in front of him.

Battle that day was much like any other. Lives were lost, blades were crossed, blood was spilled and sworn over. Hashirama made straight for his lifelong rival to hold his might at bay and spout the benefits of making peace between them for the hundredth time. Despite being rebuffed each of those hundred times he persisted with no sign of having his enthusiasm lessened in any way. Of all the annoying things in life that had to be one of the ones Tobirama hated the most, although he’d never been able to pinpoint exactly why it should bother him if Hashirama wanted to waste his breath yet again. It wasn’t like he didn’t spout the same crap to everyone else he met as well.

In the end the battle culminated as it always did, with no clear victor only because Hashirama still refused to bring the full force of his might to bear against the people he believed to be as tired of war as he was and as ready for peace if only the one leading them would finally agree. Madara stood true against his opponent until the last of his people had quit the field. Then he spat at Hashirama's feet with a sneer and told him to stop dreaming of rocks. Those who understood the epithet only sighed.

Tobirama happened to think his brother was foolish to keep chasing such an impossible dream but that didn’t mean he enjoyed seeing the sadness on Hashirama's face as he led their people away from the same scene that had played out so many times. If he could give no other comfort then he could at least give the man a few moments to himself after yet another rejection, leading their people away and heading the march back home. Hashirama caught up to them when they were halfway there, bumping shoulders with his younger brother and offering a smile as a silent thank you. No other words were needed.

“A victory, I would say,” Tobirama noted.

“Can it ever truly be a victory when there have been lives lost?” Hashirama asked.

“We’re shinobi. It comes with the territory.”

“It shouldn’t have to be this way, though.” When he looked over Hashirama had leveled a devastating pair of puppy eyes at him.

Tobirama was having none of that. “Don’t preach at me, Anija. You know very well that while I am more than willing to go along with whatever direction you lead us in I also have less than zero faith in the idea of making peace with the Uchiha. That is your dream, not mine, so don’t come crying to me unless you want me to say I told you so again.”

“You don’t have to be mean about it,” Hashirama pouted.

“And I don’t have to be nice about it either. The benefits of having a forgiving brother.” Lifting both of his eyebrows, Tobirama dared the other to challenge him. He was smugly satisfied to see Hashirama's nose shoot up in to the air. No comeback; not a surprise.

When they returned to the compound it was a relief to let Hashirama deal with the debriefing and reporting to the elders while Tobirama himself was allowed to slip away. Even with only two people left in their now too-big house there was still hot competition for who got to bathe first on any given day. If they were still young boys they might have bathed together and done away with any fights on the matter but Tobirama could vividly remember the exact day when Butsuma decided they were both getting too old for that. Hashirama had been sick through the night and Tobirama wanted only to help soothe the older boy, maybe wash his hair for him since he enjoyed it so much, but he was turned away at the door and cuffed around the ears as he was told that boys their age should respect each other’s privacy in these matters. They had bathed separately ever since.

Slipping in to the hot water was an almost euphoric experience, as it always was for him. Water being his element meant that he was happy to submerge himself in any sizable body of it at a moment’s notice but hot water was always an extra pleasure. As soon as he sat down he could feel the tensions of this never-ending war slipping away to leave him almost entirely free of worries. Today’s clash had left him with no open wounds but several new bruises and relaxing in a bath was just the thing to help loosen his limbs so they wouldn’t cramp when the bruises muscles began to throb.

By the time he emerged from the natural pool their house had been built around he felt ready to face whatever idiocies the rest of the day had to throw at him, cleaning the water as he left after his hour of languishing. If pattern held he would probably make time for another quick soak before bed for no other reason than that he wanted to but for now he decided to have mercy and allow Hashirama a turn to soak away the grime of sweat and blood.

As he suspected, that familiar woody chakra emerged from the room across the hall as soon as he slid his own door shut and headed straight for the bathing pool. Tobirama smiled as he dressed himself in a plain yukata, delving in to the calm of having his precious person close just to keep up his own relaxing good mood. Something must have been bothering Hashirama though because, instead of the usual happy lassitude he always seemed to carry, his chakra was laced with a strange frenetic energy that tasted like worry. That couldn’t mean anything good.

It was just strange enough that Tobirama stayed in his room instead of going out to speak with one of his many cousins about whipping them up a few meat pies for dinner as he had planned to. That could wait until after he’d made sure nothing life-ending had come up during Hashirama's meeting with the elders. Only the gods knew what kind of madness went on in the minds of those old coots.

To allow for some respectful distance in case talking would have to wait awhile, he pulled his senses back in to himself and set about puttering around his room to keep occupied. Mostly he read through some of the correspondence waiting on the desk growing out of his floor, drafted a few replies, poked at a few of the trade requests the Uzumaki had sent them. All things that needed to get done anyway so he could justify waffling around in his room until he was needed. Once or twice he got up to clean some trifling messes that didn’t really need cleaning yet until finally his patience was rewarded by footsteps down the hall and a light rapping at the door. Without getting up he turned in his chair and called for Hashirama to enter but when he did Tobirama frowned.

“Why did you send a clone?”

“I, uh, whatever do you mean?” A beaming smile tried to distract him but he only frowned.

“You’re not the original. I can always tell.”

Hashirama let out a nervous smile and poked the ends of his pointer fingers together. “Ah, haha, how can you tell? I have the same chakra!”

“Because I can’t smell your clones.” Tobirama stood up slowly to approach the clone with a suspicious face. “Which you know already. Are you in your bedroom? I’m coming to see you; you’re being strange and I want to know why.”

“Wait! Hold on! I wanted to talk to you before you go in my room! It’s important!” The clone hurried after him but Tobirama ignored it and continued on his way.

Seeing that it was hopeless trying to stop him the clone puffed out of existence to give his original at least a little warning. A quiet squeak sounded from down the hall only a moment later and Tobirama rolled his eyes. For all the work he had put in to creating a jutsu that would allow him to create his own solid clones he still had no preference for communicating with one. It felt wrong speaking with someone and not being able to smell them, knowing that whatever he was sensing might not be what the person was truly feeling at the moment. It felt duplicitous.

Just before he reached the door he heard a bit of quick scrambling that made him roll his eyes as he knocked, opening it at his brother’s call to find Hashirama standing in the middle of the room with his body language all but dripping with nerves, not something he had seen too many times in his life.

“Anija,” he greeted the man slowly. “Why are you sending clones instead of talking to me yourse-…your…is there someone else in here?” Before he could even get through one sentence Tobirama stopped dead, nearly bowled over with the most incredible scent he’d ever gotten a whiff of in his life. It was undeniably omega and entirely unfamiliar.

“No one is in here but me,” Hashirama said and Tobirama huffed, taking another step in to the room.

“Do you think I can’t smell that? There is definitely an omega in this room. Have you found some kind of seal to conceal them from view or are they under your bed?”

“I promise! There’s really no one here!”

Tobirama took another step forward but the denial that someone must have just left in that case died on his tongue as his attention was redirected. With every step closer to Hashirama the scent grew stronger. Logically that must mean that a strange omega had come in to contact with him. Tobirama was well aware that sniffing another person’s scent off his brother was the absolute height of poor manners but he found he couldn’t quite stop himself, not when the smell was this enticing. Hashirama had never cared about personal space anyway.

Leaning away from him, Hashirama giggled nervously again.

“Um, so, this is what I wanted to talk to you about so before you do anything–”

“It’s you.”

“What?”

“The smell, it’s coming from you. Not like it’s on you but as though it’s coming from your scent glands. Why do you smell like an omega?” Pretending he was only drawn in by the mystery absolved him of a lot of the awkwardness that came from stepping close enough to shove his nose right up against Hashirama's neck, breathing deeply and fluttering his lashes closed.

Something inside of him shifted like an awakening, primal and eager, encouraging him to take another deep inhale and shuffle closer until their bodies were almost pressed flushed against each other. From this close he could hear every shuddering breath rushing passed his ear yet instead of making him leap away with shame as he normally would it only made his blood pound harder. With a light quiver in his voice Hashirama began to babble.

“Please don’t be mad at me! I – I didn’t want to keep it a secret! Father made me keep it a secret from everyone but he’s gone now and…and…Tobi?” Swallowing thickly, unaware of the fact that the motion of it had definitely caught Tobirama’s attention, he went on. “Of course he thought I would present alpha and everyone else did too but when I didn’t he said I would have to pretend to be the son he deserved. He made me wear scent everywhere I went and a different scent for battle to keep up the lie but he said I couldn’t even tell you because the more people who knew the more likely it was for the secret to get out and – Tobi are you listening to me?”

“You smell…so good.”

“Oh. Thank you? I mean it’s – you smell nice too. You always do.”

It was the way his voice came out small and hesitant that cut through the fog in Tobirama’s mind, pulling him back just enough for his hindbrain to recognize that this was his brother before him.

His brother whom he had grown up believing was an alpha and yet never felt threatened by in any way, the brother who now smelled like the most enticing omega he had ever met, the brother who had apparently had the wrong dynamic forced on him since the day puberty hit in what was probably a very confusing and terrifying first heat with no other omega there to help him through it. Their mother, he recalled, had been away on a mission when Hashirama fell sick.

Were he in full control of his faculties this would surely have been a much more overwhelming revelation but at the moment the only thing he could concentrate on was the incredible scent. In all his life he’d never felt more drawn to an omega before. Generally he tended to look upon other alphas with scorn for having so little control over themselves and yet here he was unable to convince himself to step back. The fact that this was his own sibling might have made him jump away if he were a Hyuga or something, one of the clans known for rejecting sibling mate pairs, but the Senju had always believed a true imprinting should be pursued no matter what relation you were to each other.

Of course, if the match were too closely related the omega usually volunteered for sterilization to prevent harm to the next generation but that was a whole other basket of worms. It didn’t happen very often anyway. And that was definitely not what he wanted to be focusing on right now.

“I always smell–?”

“Just because I had to apply scent to cover my own doesn’t mean my nose didn’t work anymore.” Hashirama flushed, obviously trying to say something else with his words.

“Okay.” Tobirama frowned. For once his head was too muddled to read between the lines. All he wanted was to bend his neck and press against the source of that glorious fragrance again. His eyes slid down against his will to linger on the brown expanse of skin before him, so tempting, and now that he was thinking from new angles he noted for the first time that Hashirama's neck had a very pleasing shape.

What the hell that meant he had no idea, only that he suddenly could think of little else but that neck.

“Can I…I promise I’m not trying to be weird or anything but…”

“You can do anything you want to,” Hashirama told him in a breathy voice.

Tobirama took him up on that. In an instant his face was buried in warm skin and his hands had found their way over broad hips before he’d actually given the movement any thought. Surprisingly – or he supposed not too surprisingly considering the pheromones mixing around them – Hashirama moved placidly wherever he was asked to and made no complaints about being held tightly against the alpha so intent on taking in his scent.

“Feel like I should have figured this out on my own at some point,” Tobirama said distantly, mostly thinking about how he could have experienced this euphoria a long time ago if he weren’t so blind.

“Ah. I had to…um…” Hashirama shifted against him and purred a little when the arms around him tightened. “I guess my habit of ignoring social boundaries was kind of helpful. And most people still don’t expect an omega to be stronger than an alpha so…”

“Hiding in plain sight. My clever Anija.”

“Clever. Wow. You don’t usually call me that.”

Tobirama smiled through the fog. “Because usually you’re a dunderhead.”

“Hey!”

“But right now you are a clever little thing and if you don’t push me away I am going to embarrass us both.”

Completely subverting his expectations of a mortified shriek and strong arms pushing him away in panic, expectations that were quite reasonable when one considered who he was standing with, Hashirama fairly melted against him and tilted his head just a bit to one side, exposing a little more of his neck in what was clearly a submissive manner.

“Why should either of us be embarrassed if it’s something we both want?” he questioned.

“That sounds dangerously as though you’re asking for something I truly would not have expected you to be interested in,” Tobirama mused. In retrospect he could guess that the clone had been intended as a way to break the news to him before he had a chance to react in such an animalistic nature, something he’d taken to mean Hashirama didn’t want them to act on these base, instinctual urges.

“Are you interested in…those things?” Hashirama's overly hopeful tone left him with an entirely different impression than sending the clone had.

“I suppose that depends; we should probably make sure we’re on the same page here.” Drawing small circles with his thumbs in an instinctual effort to keep the omega calm, Tobirama bent his head down to slowly draw the tip of his nose up the side of Hashirama's neck. “This is alright?”

He knew his answer by the muted whine that slipped out before his brother could say anything.

“Yes, alpha.”

Tobirama bit his lip to contain the rush that went through his body. He never thought he’d be the type to get turned on by such base and simple words. Apparently he was as much a slave to his own body chemistry as everyone else but it was hard to be upset with himself for such weakness just then. It was much more interesting to graze his lips over the hammering pulse calling out to him like a beacon.

“And this?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm. And what about…this?” Tobirama parted his lips and let his tongue dart out for just a little taste, instantly craving more. “Is that alright too?”

Fairly shaking in his arms with the effort to stay still, Hashirama whined again. “Yes, alpha. Yes please.”

“So kind of you to be so polite,” Tobirama purred in approval. Feeling bold with so many positive responses, he scraped his teeth along the jugular vein and down across the man’s shoulder until he heard a desperate mewl and Hashirama clutched at him suddenly.

“Don’t tease, Tobi. Alpha. My alpha? I want – please?”

“Oh, am I teasing?” The lightness of his tone contrasted sharply with how badly he wanted to sink his teeth in and claim the omega before him but he got a laugh when Hashirama let out a small huff of frustration. Knowing how much it usually took for his brother to reach the end of his rope, Tobirama felt a little smug that he could get such a reaction with only a few not-enough touched.

“I am not above begging if that’s what you want,” Hashirama groaned.

Knowing the man was actually serious about that very nearly brought Tobirama to his knees but he stood strong and finally let the restraints fall away to take what he could now say for sure they both wanted. Pheromones flooded his mouth as well as his nose like a mind-bending cocktail the second he dug his teeth in to thick muscles and brown skin. Hashirama arched against him with a shuddering cry and Tobirama had never felt so powerful in all his life.

Not the sort of power one wields on the battlefield or in political circles, something to be brandished as a weapon, no. This was the much more heady power to give pleasure to another and until this moment he had never realized the euphoria therein. Having Hashirama fall to pieces in his arms from a bit of nibbling and a few light draws of his tongue along whatever skin he could reach made him feel as though he could touch the sky and yet it wasn’t long until this wasn’t nearly enough. There was so much more he could do, so many ways he could please the omega in his arms, and he found himself grinning as he tried to imagine what his brother would look like in the throes of ecstasy.

Gorgeous, obviously. How could he have never realized the connection between them?

Slowly leading the both of them step by step over towards to the bed, he thought to himself that it suddenly made a lot of sense why he’d never been all that interested in mating with any of the omegas who presented themselves to him. Even without being able to smell what was hiding underneath the false alpha scent Hashirama had used, it was obvious something inside of him must have recognized the true match that had been right under his nose all this time. With how rare they were many still believed in the misconception that imprinting had no element of choice. Tobirama would be thrilled to tell anyone who asked that both of them still had a choice and Hashirama had obviously chosen him a long time ago; he was only too happy to choose the same in return.

Instead of tumbling them both down on to the mattress when they reached it Tobirama paused and rooted his brother to the floor with one look they both knew from many missions together meant he wanted the man to keep as still as possible. Waiting to make sure Hashirama was going to follow his order, he took a single step back and reached between them to pick at the knots on both of their obis.

After the well-worn cotton of their yukatas slid away to puddle on the floor they were both left bare to each other’s eyes, each man devouring the other with a singular kind of hunger that left Tobirama wondering how he hadn’t figured out his brother’s secret before. Looking was quickly followed by touching of course. Tobirama guided his brother down to the bed and soothed the heat between them with long swipes of his hand over the planes of that glorious chest, tracing every line he could see, then dipped his head to taste them. His omega mewled and arched in to the touch.

“Tell me what you want,” he rasped against warm skin, tongue laving at the ridges of sinful abdominal muscles.

“Anything alpha is okay with,” Hashirama whispered back. His eyes were closed and his face tilted up as if praying to the gods above them but he gasped and looked down when Tobirama nipped at his skin.

“Now is not the time to be coy. I asked you to tell me what you want.”

Layering his voice with the authority of an alpha made his partner quiver with want, writhing under him and whining as he tried to ride out a sudden wave of lust while Tobirama watching without shame for enjoying the sight. And what a glorious sight he made. Hashirama was resplendent as he bucked and squirmed through his mental battle against two decades of habit pushing his own needs down until finally he blurted them out with little grace.

“I want alpha to claim to me! Please, please fuck me Otouto!”

“Fuck. Yes. I can do that.”

Tobirama wasted no more time. Having his own desires practically shouted at him might not have been exactly romantic but romance was quite far from his mind at the moment. All he could think about was the way Hashirama's cloying scent thickened and grew more potent with every touch, more enticing by the second.

As large of a man as his brother was his bed was still fairly small, barely able to fit its single occupant. With two of them on the mattress space was rather crowded but Tobirama found this worked to his advantage as it gave him more excuse to stay close while he skimmed a hand down the outside of Hashirama's left leg to grasp at the ankle. He fitted himself in to space made when he folded the man’s leg up, spreading tanned thighs as easily as he might spread the pages of a well-loved book, and reveled in the sensation of all that skin pressing against his own as he leaned forward to bury his nose in the source of the pheromones that were driving him so wild.

It almost felt as though he were viewing the world through a haze as he licked and tasted all the skin he could reach, drunk on the melody of Hashirama's helpless pleas for more. He had only just realized his own disappointing lack of lube when he found a bottle of it being pressed in to his hands as though he needed more proof that the two of them worked perfectly together. Hashirama swelled with pride when he murmured praise for thinking so far ahead.

Pulled himself back enough to squeeze a bit of lubricant in one palm was almost a physical pain, separation when he wanted nothing more than to burrow himself closer, but he managed because easing the way would stop him from causing any pain and to hurt Hashirama would only hurt himself in return. No omega deserved to experience pain when a joining like this was supposed to bring them only pleasure and safety. And Hashirama more than anyone else deserved pleasure and safety. Forced to conceal his true self since the moment he discovered it, it was nothing short of an honor to be the first one trusted with a glimpse of the person he was always meant to be.

Shifting back up the bed, Tobirama nuzzled at his brother’s jaw before taking his lips in a kiss to distract from the fingers reaching down between them. Hashirama bucked at the first touch against his entrance, a soft keening sound escaping as one finger slipped inside. Almost immediately the older man began to buck his hips as he tried desperately to get just a little more friction but Tobirama held strong, refusing to go any faster than he thought his brother’s body could handle. Clearly if he had been hiding his dynamic for this long he was untouched, his inexperience obvious even in the way he kissed, and rushing in to things would only end with pain.

Which, obviously, was an unacceptable outcome. If Tobirama had his way his omega would never experience pain of any kind ever again for the rest of his life.

Hashirama keened loudly to be finally gifted with a second finger and despite the red painted across his cheeks in embarrassment he made no move to silence his own noises, for which Tobirama was grateful. Keeping his own needs in check was made easier knowing that he was making his partner feel good. In that moment – for the rest of their lives – the most important thing in his world was the need to make sure his partner felt safe and happy.

“More,” Hashirama panted below him. “Want- need more!”

“Patience, Anija. You can be patient for me can’t you?”

“I-! Yes. Yes I can be patient. I can be whatever alpha asks me to be.”

Tobirama hummed and ducked his chin so his brother wouldn’t see the flutter of his eyes and how ridiculously affected he was by those words. He busied himself with the distraction of two pert brown nipples just begging for his tongue and his teeth, riding the wave as Hashirama writhed under the dual stimulation. From the startled cries he gathered that the man had never thought to explore this part of himself before and discovering yet another first he was blessed to give sent a thrill right down to his toes.

Adding a third finger only increased the glorious sounds filling the air around them. Really two fingers was probably more than enough considering Hashirama's body would have instinctively prepared him to accept his new mate but Tobirama was nothing if not cautious and he wanted to do this right.

When finally he slipped his fingers out and reached down to coat his own length with the lubricant Hashirama was keening with almost every breath and begging senselessly as he panted, not even seeming to realize he was doing so. Despite having asked the man to be patient Tobirama allowed himself a moment of pride to have pleased his mate so well before reminding himself not to get distracted. Right now was not about him. He could preen later.

“N-now?” Hashirama gasped and Tobirama couldn’t help but to lean down and kiss him.

“I certainly can’t wait any longer,” he murmured. “Be a good omega and turn over for me, yes?”

Hashirama's answer was to execute a perfect flip in the limited space between mattress and mate without even bothering to ask for a bit of room to do so. When Tobirama did move away a few inches Hashirama immediately pushed his face in to the bedding and lifted his hips high, presenting shamelessly. The sight of him was so arousing that for a few moments all Tobirama could do was stare in wonder.

As soon as he recovered he was crawling forward to drape himself over the other man’s back, curling to press every inch of their bodies together that he could. He rutted in to the cleft between his brother’s cheeks and inhaled deeply of the scent that had first called his attention to the potential hiding right under his nose for so many years.

“Mine now,” he whispered, as mindless as the whimper that slipped from the body under him.

When he lifted himself away Hashirama cried out as though in loss but Tobirama soothed him with a few strokes down the length of his spine and at the same time grasped himself with his other hand, lining up with the entrance waiting so eagerly to be filled.

Pressing inside was the sweetest heaven, an exquisite nirvana unlike anything he had ever experienced before. Unlike what he had expected in the base act of copulation, it was not the pressure around his length that made him stop and take a deep breath to control himself, although he would freely admit that did play a factor. It was instead the sensation of utter completeness and rightness as he made himself one with the mate he was always meant to be with, the one he had imprinted on the moment he finally took in Hashirama's natural scent. With their bodies together he was whole in a way he could not describe but it was an instant addiction.

He was hardly surprised to hear the man underneath him give a weak protest as he shifted his hips to pull out slowly. Nor was he surprised when driving his hips forward again in a steady rocking motion dragged echoing groans from both of them as they were made whole once again. If not for how much he cared for his partner Tobirama knew he would have been completely lost the moment he took up a proper rhythm, such was the pleasure that left him so beyond words.

Rather than losing himself he leaned forward and braced his weight on the bed with one hand, the other reaching forward to weave between Hashirama's fingers where he was gripping a handful of cotton as though his very life depended on it. Then Tobirama bent a little further until he could sink his teeth in to the delicious brown neck peeping out between curtains of silky brown hair.

With a lewd sound the likes of which he wouldn’t have thought the man capable of Hashirama thrashed, instinctively trying to shove himself further back on to the cock filling him. Following his most primal drives Tobirama snapped his hips again and closed his eyes to enjoy the symphony playing just for him. Their rhythm was broken and hurried, nothing like he had ever imagined love-making would be, but it could not have been more perfect. Every shift of weight and twitch of limb was accompanied by new and enticing sounds drawn from Hashirama like he couldn’t help himself, every thrust met with a roll of tanned hips at just the right angle to have Tobirama snapping his own just a little harder, and he would not have changed a thing.

As much as Tobirama wanted to say it felt like forever and not enough at the same time, as much as he wanted to fall victim to the romantic clichés his brother loved so openly, he was at his core a creature of habit and he knew exactly how long had passed by the time he felt his knot beginning to swell. Draping himself a little farther around Hashirama's body was an instinctual response he didn’t bother fighting. He may never have indulged in physical pleasures before but he understood his own body well enough that he knew exactly what to expect when his thrusts grew shallow and his omega began to whine.

“Please,” Hashirama pleaded mindlessly. “I want it!”

“You’re sure? There’s no need to rush, we’ll have plenty of time to-”

“Please, alpha! I want- I need- just please! Don’t make me beg!”

Tobirama pressed his forehead against the nape of his brother’s neck and flashed a grin unseen. “You said you were happy to beg,” he felt compelled to point out. “But how could I say no when you ask so prettily?”

Having grown to adulthood as an alpha he was more than aware what a knot was and what it was for. He’d been given the mating talks when he was younger and he understood what it meant to knot an omega, not to mention now. What he hadn’t been told but really should have expected was the way it felt. Tobirama could feel every last reserve of dignity he had left shattering inside him and bursting out as a sharp cry when he felt his knot pressing inside for Hashirama's body to clamp down around him, both of them immediately giving in to the convulsions of a spectacular orgasm, clinging to each other and rutting mindlessly.

Unsurprisingly, Hashirama was the first to settle in to minute shivers and fall as still as possible while his limbs struggled to hold him up. He whimpered yet again when Tobirama rutted in to him once more.

“We’re gonna be stuck like this, aren’t we?” he asked between gasping pants. Eyes still clenched shut as he rode the continuous waves of pleasure that came with being knotted inside an omega, Tobirama grunted and pressed a few kisses to the back of his partner’s neck.

“For a while,” he panted back. “Are you okay? I tried not to hurt you but I – nnnh – I lost control for a bit.”

Hashirama's eyes were dopey and glossed over with exhaustion when he turned to smile happily around one shoulder. Just looking at him made Tobirama’s heart skip several beats, his entire being suffused with the sudden need to protect and pamper this gorgeous, precious creature he was blessed to be mated with.

With that in mind he very gently began maneuvering them both on to their sides as best he could while their bodies were locked together, trying hard not to be too obvious about the aftershocks still running through his system. He’s read in a book once that an alpha could experience several orgasms during the knotting and until now he’d always thought such rumors were utter nonsense. As Hashirama squirmed against him he rethought his stance on what constituted nonsense. Nothing should hace the right to feel that good.

“Otouto…”

“Are you sure everything’s alright?” Tobirama asked worriedly.

“Could you hold me a little tighter? Everything is…so much more perfect than I ever imagined.”

“I can do that.” Touched, he did as he was asked and shuffled his arms to hold more of his brother’s massive frame between them.

The two of them curled in to each other as best they could, weaving their hands together and clutching tighter whenever another wave of shivers ran down Tobirama’s spine. It was hard to believe that only a couple of hours before he hadn’t even known his brother was an omega and now they were mated, a bonded pair for the rest of their lives. Not in his wildest dreams could Tobirama have imagined someone more perfect for him than his own older brother.

He had, in point of fact, long contented himself with the idea of following his brother for the rest of his life without actively seeking a mate of his own, entirely devoted to whatever his Anija asked of him. To have happiness handed to him as a reward for his efforts and to know that he would make his brother even happier in return was more than he could have ever asked for.

“I guess we can’t really keep it a secret that I’m not an alpha now since I’ll smell different, being mated and all.” Hashirama made no effort to contain the joy in his voice to say it out loud and it made Tobirama smile a little wider.

“Are you okay with everyone knowing?”

“Even if I wasn’t there’s really no going back now.”

Humming in agreement, Tobirama nudged that back of his partner’s neck. “You knew didn’t you? You imprinted on me a long time ago.”

“Yes. I hope you’re not mad. Not telling you was…it was really hard.” Turning his head, Hashirama looked over one shoulder again with the echoes of a deep yearning in his eyes. “Sometimes I would be sitting right next to you and I would miss you. I don’t know how else to explain it. But it was lonely because I wasn’t allowed to say anything about being an omega so I definitely wasn’t allowed to tell you I had imprinted on you as soon as I went through puberty.”

“I’m sorry you’ve had to go through this alone,” Tobirama murmured softly.

They didn’t speak for a short while after that. When they were finally able to separate Tobirama pressed his brother gently down on his back and insisted on fetching some damp cloths to clean them both up himself. He made sure to keep his touches as careful as he could in the hopes of conveying even a fraction of the love and care he felt for the man he was granted the chance to pamper. If he had his way there would be a lot more pampering in the future. Actions had always been easier than words for him. Only when they were both clean and he had fetched a clean blanket from his own room to pull over them did he finally lay back down.

With their arms around each other, face to face on the single pillow they were sharing, the two of them passed a moment simply taking each other in and letting the reality of everything that just happened settle. In different ways this would both change everything between them and yet also change very little. Tobirama lifted one hand to trace his brother’s face, thinking to himself that he couldn’t wait to discover those changes together.

“Mate,” he whispered, rolling the word around on his tongue just to enjoy the sound of it. “I promise that I will try to be everything you need of me.”

“You always have been,” Hashirama told him.

“Mn, even when I angered you? We’re rather infamous for having different viewpoints.”

“You have always been everything I could ever ask for and more, so much more than I deserve. When we see things differently that just means you’re helping me think from a new angle I wouldn’t have considered on my own!”

Tobirama huffed. “I should have expected you to be so kind. Now shush, let me hold you for a while. Sooner or later someone is going to come along and demand your attention for something, they always do, but right now you belong to me and only me. I intend to make the most of the time that I can.”

“Oh my. I…I like that.”

“Like what?”

Hashirama grinned sheepishly. “Hearing you lay claim to me like that. I liked it. It feels very nice to be wanted.”

“You are always wanted,” Tobirama murmured gently and his partner melted against him with a happy purr.

As promised, he tightened his arms to squeeze them together and then loosened his grip to let them both lay comfortably, eyes closed and bodies sprawled in complete relaxation. Never in his life had Tobirama been more grateful for his own sensing capabilities. If he weren’t a sensor he would not have been able to feel Hashirama’s turmoil earlier, he would not have been able to tell he was speaking with a wood clone, and who knew if he would have ever truly discovered the euphoria waiting for him just down the hall. What a mediocre life it would have been to never have Hashirama by his side in the way he was always meant to be.

Forever.

[bosses-stay-flawless]

"Holding The Space/ Keeping The Same Energy"

I've been writing this in my head for 3 days now but I've been a little busy with family & friends. One of the little ones asked me if I hated Christmas because I didn't seem excited by it. Not so I, replied, I just express my excitement in a different way. Years ago a good friend, by the name of Nancy taught me a valuable lesson about Christmas. Well, Nancy & several others although I didn't know it. Over time, I made a vow based on several lessons I learned from Nancy & those I loved. I vowed that...

"Everday Would Be Christmas!"

My great- grandma broke her hip on Christmas Day when I was 10. She was 94 years old, prior to that she was very alert & active, after a lengthy stay in the hospital she was not active nor coherent. For days I sat by her beside waiting for her to say something, move, or just get up she stayed that way until she passed away many months later. Yet, gifts that I didn't know, I had at 10 manifested. I began using the time spent sitting by her bedside telling her how much I loved an appreciated her, teaching me how to garden, things about our ancestors and our native ways & how she braided seashells & feathers into my hair. It felt like her spirit was speaking to my spirit, it gave me peace, and my speaking those memories out loud gave her the strength to pass from this life peacefully.

Another lesson came, when I was 13, I came home from school to find my neighbors entire 3 bedroom house spilling out of every room/ basement of our house. They had been evicted & my step dad had told them they could leave their things there. I can still remember my brother & I holding our breath waiting for my mama to get home, my mama was funny about the house, everything had a place, she worked hard & made so many wonderful memories & miracles happen for me and my siblings. She walked in, got the explanation of events & went back out, brought gifts for my neighbors & their child and made dinner, she reasoned, that it might be easy to be judgemental, "but so much more easier to be a blessing."

When I was 28, I got the same opportunity to be blessing to someone else in a similar way. One of my co-workers was a victim of domestic violence. She had finally made the transition from a shelter & into her own place, but it coincided with the holidays, she couldn't afford a tree she called me crying because she asked her church if they would help her get her kids a tree. That church gave her a broken atificial tree that wouldn't even stand up. My husband (ex-husband now) told me OK you can help her but you better not give her any money. Not only did I give her money, I made a point of going to a spot on the land I had inherited from generations of my family. I personally cut her & her kids down a tree, in the middle of sawing it I stopped & built a snowman just because I remembered going into those same, woods with my mom and great uncle year after year. My granddaddy used to say: make sure you carry your "Joy" with you everywhere you go!

Back to Nancy, she was this older lady, that swore I was an angel, no matter how many times I assured her otherwise, she insisted, eventhough, I promised her I had simply been raised to love, be a blessing, and mindful of other's needs.

She persisted. She had the biggest heart, during the time I knew her, her heart had been failing (congenial heart failure), physically her heart was weak, but her spiritual heart was never lacking. 4 days before Christmas she had surgery, during her surgery they found a hole in her heart, she died 3 times on the operating table. On Christmas Eve, I received a call expecting to hear her family telling me the worst, instead it was Nancy, yelling I saw you in your house praying for me when I died, I had to come back, I had to tell you what an angel told me. What is that, I asked in tears! We should treat EVERY day like Christmas, when we do it opens the door of change!!! So that day, that became my vow, Christmas time, is the time I humbly check the status of my heart based on what I did all year long. Did I hold the space for another soul's healing or peace, did I show love when someone didn't love me? Did I keep the same, energy when it was another person's family in need and not my own?

No secret, I talk about energy alot, every moment we encounter involves energy. I am the example of what it means to be perfectly flawed. I don't always get it right, but I don't always get it wrong. Different seasons carry different energy, yet we have the power to harness that energy and carry it into every season & situation we face in life. #love #blessings #gratitude #itsNOTaboutme

[autolovecraft]

I've seen sights before, but there was one thing too much here.

Only the coffins themselves remained as potential stepping-stones, and as he considered these he speculated on the best mode of transporting them. You kicked hard, for Asaph's coffin was on the floor. His questioning grew more than medically tense, and his aching arms rested by a pause during which he sat on the bottom box to gather strength for the final wriggle and leap to the ground outside. Great heavens, Birch, just as I thought! He was curiously unelated over his impending escape, and almost dreaded the exertion, for his form had the indolent stoutness of early middle age. As he planned, he could not shake clear of the unknown grasp which held his feet in relentless captivity.

He was a scoundrel, and I believe his eye-for-an-eye fury could beat old Father Death himself. He always remained lame, for the great tendons had been severed; but I think the greatest lameness was in his soul. It was Asaph's coffin, Birch, and I believe his eye-for-an-eye fury could beat old Father Death himself. Fortunately the village was small and the death rate low, so that the coffins beneath him rocked and creaked. As he remounted the splitting coffins he felt his weight very poignantly; especially when, upon reaching the topmost one, he heard that aggravated crackle which bespeaks the wholesale rending of wood. Tired and perspiring despite many rests, he descended to the floor and sat a while on the bottom box to gather strength for the final wriggle and leap to the ground outside. Birch that night he had taken a lantern and gone to the old receiving tomb. I'd hate to have it aimed at me! When he perceived that the latch was hopelessly unyielding, at least to such meager tools and under such tenebrous conditions as these, Birch glanced about for other possible points of escape. The pile of tools soon reached, and a little later gave a gasp that was more terrible than a cry.

Armington, the lodge-keeper, answered his feeble clawing at the door. He was just dizzy and careless enough to annoy his sensitive horse, which as he drew it viciously up at the tomb neighed and pawed and tossed its head, much as on that former occasion when the rain had vexed it. I suppose one should start in the cold December of 1880, when the ground froze and the cemetery delvers found they could dig no more graves till spring. Most distinctly Birch was lax, insensitive, and professionally undesirable; yet I still think he was not an evil man. It was generally stated that the affliction and shock were results of an unlucky slip whereby Birch had locked himself for nine hours in the receiving tomb of Peck Valley Cemetery, escaping only by crude and disastrous mechanical means; but while this much was undoubtedly true, there were other and blacker things which the man used to whisper to me in his drunken delirium toward the last.

He was oddly anxious to know if Birch were sure—absolutely sure—of the identity of that top coffin of the pile; how he had chosen it, how he had distinguished it from the inferior duplicate coffin of vicious Asaph Sawyer. As he remounted the splitting coffins he felt his weight very poignantly; especially when, upon reaching the topmost one, he heard that aggravated crackle which bespeaks the wholesale rending of wood. I've seen sights before, but there was one thing too much here.

He was curiously unelated over his impending escape, and almost dreaded the exertion, for his form had the indolent stoutness of early middle age. As he remounted the splitting coffins he felt his weight very poignantly; especially when, upon reaching the topmost one, he heard that aggravated crackle which bespeaks the wholesale rending of wood.

He had not forgotten the criticism aroused when Hannah Bixby's relatives, wishing to transport her body to the cemetery in the city whither they had moved, found the casket of Judge Capwell beneath her headstone. Finally he decided to lay a base of three parallel with the wall, to place upon this two layers of two each, and upon these a single box to serve as the platform. You kicked hard, for Asaph's coffin was on the floor. It was Asaph's coffin, Birch, and I believe his eye-for-an-eye fury could beat old Father Death himself. Being without superstition, he did not heed the day at all; though ever afterward he refused to do anything of importance on that fateful sixth day of the week.

Being without superstition, he did not heed the day at all; so that he was wise in so doing. Birch had felt no compunction in assigning the carelessly made coffin which he now pushed out of the enlarged transom; but gathered his energies for a determined try.

The day was clear, but a high wind had sprung up; and Birch was glad to get to shelter as he unlocked the iron door and entered the side-hill vault. He was a bachelor, wholly without relatives. Well enough to skimp on the thing some way, but you knew what a little man old Fenner was. I saw vindictiveness on any face—or former face. Maddened by the sound, or by the stench which billowed forth even to the open air, the waiting horse gave a scream that was too frantic for a neigh, and plunged madly off through the night, the wagon rattling crazily behind it.

Fortunately the village was small and the death rate low, so that the narrow ventilation funnel in the top ran through several feet of earth, making this direction utterly useless to consider.

Great heavens, Birch, but you always did go too damned far!

That he was not perfectly sober, he subsequently admitted; though he had not then taken to the wholesale drinking by which he later tried to forget certain things. The hungry horse was neighing repeatedly and almost uncannily, and he did not heed the day at all; though ever afterward he refused to do anything of importance on that fateful sixth day of the week. He cried aloud once, and a hammer and chisel selected, Birch returned over the coffins to the door. He gave old Matt the very best his skill could produce, but was thrifty enough to save the stoutly built casket of little Matthew Fenner for the top, in order that his feet might have as certain a surface as possible. Certainly, the events of that evening greatly changed George Birch.

The skull turned my stomach, but the other was worse—those ankles cut neatly off to fit Matt Fenner's cast-aside coffin! His drinking, of course, only aggravated what it was meant to alleviate. Birch? Dusk fell and found Birch still toiling. To him Birch had felt no compunction in assigning the carelessly made coffin which he now pushed out of the way in his quest for the Fenner casket. Perhaps he screamed.

He gave old Matt the very best his skill could produce, but was thrifty enough to save the rejected specimen, and to use it when Asaph Sawyer died of a malignant fever. His day's work was sadly interrupted, and unless chance presently brought some rambler hither, he might have to remain all night or longer. Well enough to skimp on the thing some way, but you knew what a little man old Fenner was. It was just as he had recognized old Matt's coffin that the door slammed to in the wind, leaving him in a dusk even deeper than before. Never did he knock together flimsier and ungainlier caskets, or disregard more flagrantly the needs of the rusty lock on the tomb door which he slammed open and shut with such nonchalant abandon.

He changed his business in 1881, yet never discussed the case when he could avoid it. He had, indeed, made that coffin for Matthew Fenner; but had cast it aside at last as too awkward and flimsy, in a fit of curious sentimentality aroused by recalling how kindly and generous the little old man had been to him during his bankruptcy five years before.

He was a bachelor, wholly without relatives. The boxes were fairly even, and could be piled up like blocks; so he began to compute how he might most stably use the eight to rear a scalable platform four deep. The wounds—for both ankles were frightfully lacerated about the Achilles' tendons—seemed to puzzle the old physician greatly, and finally almost to frighten him. For the long-neglected latch was obviously broken, leaving the careless undertaker trapped in the vault, a victim of his own oversight.

[jannepaule]

In Retrospect: Black Holes and Dark Days

I’ve been working on this for several weeks, trying to revise it to a much retrospective version. The first draft of this post was dated July 27, 2017— according to my trusty notepad app with 2500 words.

Between 2011 to 2015 were some of my darkest days and to some extent— 2017 the year I wrote the first version of this piece.

Fair Warning: Long Post Ahead.

I was in a bad place during that time but here it goes.

The “D” Word

I've read stories from real people about it. I've heard number of spoken word pieces about it. I've seen countless of articles about it in this wild wicked world of social media. I've seen people who turned it into art.

I was never clinically diagnosed so I have no the right to call my case depression. More importantly, it is something no one should casually throw around to describe whenever you are feeling down.

A lesson I learned is that people should stop using disorders as adjectives. It's unhealthy and destructive.

I am generally an ‘okay’ person but I've had my dark days.

It started after graduation when my high school boyfriend and I broke up. It's silly to admit that even now. I mean who gets depressed over a teenage break-up? People move on and get over it. I did.

However, for a long time I refused to deal with the pain. I thought having a strong facade by not admitting that it hurts and not crying is a sign of strength, it was otherwise. And it does more harm than help in the long run.

Later on I realized that maybe this reaction (or lack thereof) towards a painful experience was an accumulation of all the times I suppressed my emotions.

That's what happened when you grow up in a family that doesn't openly talk about feelings, that a more common response to hurt is anger.

Years of practice of tricking myself not to feel, I developed an automatic blocking system against anything that could potentially hurt. Every negative thought and emotion was boxed and pushed towards deepest part of my head hoping I'd never have to deal with them.

But as Sigmund Freud once said (or written),

"unexpressed emotions will never die they are buried alive and will later come in uglier ways"

And boy it was ugly. It wasn't a 2 AM kind of demon. It haunts you in broad daylight and attack you with ice bullets. If it was anxiety or panic attacks or some sort of condition, I've no idea. And it was all my fault.

Theater Days

I only figured out that something was seriously wrong with me when I joined a theater organization during my college freshman year.

Thespians are the most passionate and most emotional people I've ever known while I stand on the other side, feeling nothing. None. I was empty. There were lots of emotional exercises and scenes from plays that would’ve helped me, but I couldn’t even cry.

I was miserable.

There were days when I literally felt nothing. I laughed and I knew I was happy but I couldn't feel it in my heart. I watched very emotional movies like Miracle in Cell No. 7 and there were scenes that any normal person would be bawling already, but I didn't. My system could not process the feeling.

Detachment was a mean defense mechanism. It suppresses not just the pain but everything else. It leaves you with hollow feeling on your chest.

My Heart and Other Black Holes

There were days when I'd cry for no reason. One moment I was in pain then in one snap-- gone. I feel nothing again.

Other times, I felt like I was being drained, sucking life out of me as I spiral down uncontrollably into an unknown bottom. You know the vacuum sensation? It was terrible. I literally had to catch my breath.

I called it my "black hole episodes". There were black holes residing inside of me for a long time and I didn't know what to do with it.

An incident back when I was doing my internship in a radio station in 2014 was one of the worst episodes. I ended up crying for an hour or two at the HR's office. The HR manager who happened to be some sort of counselor asked me what was wrong and I could have told her everything, she was a shrink anyway. But I couldn't even get my mind straight so much more my feelings. The memory of that afternoon was blurry.

All I remember is her telling me to try talking to someone openly and honestly.

I knew I needed professional help but shrinks are way too expensive. And honestly, I was more scared to find out that it was just all in my head than to know what sort of medical condition I was in.

I wanted to disappear sometimes, amidst all the numbness and emptiness. It’s like being trapped in oblivion.

I wanted to disappear but I still hoped that someone would find me and pull me out of that dark place but I didn't know how to ask for help.

Flash forward to 2015

Before I started dating a guy from my first job after college, I had one major episode that worried the shit out of my him and my friends. So I told him about my blackholes and finally, I felt like someone is willing to listen. Even when I couldn't explain the things going on inside my head he just listened, patiently.

The thick walls I built around myself started crumbling down. The flood gates of my heart opened and somehow, I felt lighter each day. I started feeling genuinely happy again. That shrink from the radio station was right after all. I just needed someone to talk to.

We had a brief time together but I experienced a roller coaster of emotions. It was batshit crazy, but I felt every tiny bit of it. The blackholes are gone but so he is.

I was devastated and hurting everywhere literally and figuratively but I allowed myself to feel the pain, to cry all I want, and to mourn for as long as I needed to. I was drowning but that time I didn't feel empty. I still thought of skipping all of those excruciating times but thank God, someone a.k.a my favorite team leader sat me down ane told me this:

“You know better than anyone why you need to go through this. You are so much braver and stronger than what you give yourself credit for,”

Looking back, it was the bravest time of my life. I confronted all my fears of feeling pain. For the first time, I didn't run away from it. I nursed my wounded heart like a normal person.

I was blessed with people who were my guiding light through that journey.

I’ve moved on and no longer in love with that person, in case you’re wondering.

The Bad Bitch of a Black Hole is Back

2017 was another awful cruel year. I had a relapse after trying so hard to be okay for so long. Bad case of rejections, job being terribly toxic, and my whole life was a mess. The blackholes came back, just dressed up as adult problems. My life was falling apart AGAIN and I was lost. I couldn’t focus.

I watched my plans fail and slip away from my fingers and did nothing to stop it. 2017 was so much worse because even if I wanted to run away, I didn't have the energy and will power to do it.

I needed help. I don’t know how but I was sure as hell that I didn’t want to go back in that shithole ever again. I thought writing would help me get it out of my system, it did. I talked to some friends, subscribed to an online life coach for advice, and learned to practice mindfulness via Headspace app. I prayed so hard to make it all go away.

I honestly still couldn’t remember how I did all those things and managed to pull myself out of that dark place. My best guess? Divine intervention. Thank God and all the angels for not letting me get swallowed by darkness.

I look back and see how far I’ve come. It was a long tiring personal battle I had to brave through to be in a better place where I am today. No more blackhole episodes since 2017 and if ever the bitch decides to show up again, I know I would make it out alive like I always do. Hopefully, it wouldn’t.

Communicating my feelings is still a struggle up to this day but knowing how to acknowledge them is always the first step. Still growing and learning to cope up with all the things life is throwing at me. The process of healing is long, painful, sometimes boring and questionable but I don’t think I would ever do it otherwise.

Being able to write this in retrospect is a milestone worth-celebrating. A long dark chapter of my life was over. I am grateful.

Thank you for reaching this part, dear stranger. This is probably the only time I will ever share about this. I hope you know that this is a personal experience and does not mean to say that you need to get your heart broken to get over a dark phase in your life. We all have different ways to process experiences.

I hope you find the courage to ask for help from the people you trust and professionally, if you must.

I pray that if you’re going through dark times, may you always believe that there is a light that never goes out.

Sincerely, J. 🖤

[aqueensopinion]

i've changed.

How can you talk about depression and anxiety without giving too much away? Without embracing complete vulnerability? You can’t.

Someone told me yesterday that I’ve changed, that I shouldn’t forget the person I used to be. I want to scream, all the time, of course I’m not the same person. My life is now plagued with crippling anxiety and depression that has changed the very fabric of who I strive to be as an individual. I don’t talk about it; I don’t call upon the people I love to discuss it. I keep it well hidden, I always keep my composure and do a great job of kicking ass and taking names. It is only in the comfort of my own privacy that I fall apart only to muster enough strength to pick myself off the floor, just one more time, always one more time. I shouldn’t be proud of my proficiency at hiding my struggles so flawlessly.

How can one person be so good at fooling everyone around her? How can I fool those who raised me, those who claim to love me? They don’t notice the scars? They don’t see a new one pop up every few weeks? Are they looking? I couldn’t possibly be sad, not me…

My whole life I’ve been held to this standard of the one who holds it all together, who holds everyone together so I can’t possibly be dying inside. I think that depression has touched my life periodically since I was quite young but lately, it’s a constant. I don’t even know how best to explain it but I will say this; I don’t remember what it’s like to fall asleep without tear stained eyes. I cry and beg God to just let me fall asleep so that I don’t have to feel what I’m feeling or to think what I’m thinking. I beg God to let me see one more morning. Some days, I get the overwhelming urge to gain some sort of control over my life so I do things that I’m not proud of. Physical pain is about the only thing I can control and well, that’s never a good sign, is it?

What do you want? For me to be a basket case and fall apart to whoever will listen? I’m not built like that. I’d rather die than inconvenience someone; that’s how I was raised, it’s all I know. I want to wake up to the sound of birds and inhale deeply as I think about how wonderful and beautiful life is but I’m not there. I can cry silently in a room full of people and no one will notice. I can sleep right next to someone and cry my eyes out without being noticed. “I have allergies”, “there’s something in my eye”, “I accidently cut myself while chopping onions”. Sometimes I’m so shocked at the lengths I’ll go to, to avoid speaking truth to my situation. Sometimes I’m surprised that they still believe me. It’s so unfathomable for people to think that someone who seems so put together might be suffering. Should I stop going to work? Should I stop taking care of myself? Should I become a recluse? Should I start abusing drugs and alcohol? Scratch that, I did the latter and that still went unnoticed.

At this point, I’m falling down a deep and dark hole and I can’t communicate how I’m feeling, I wouldn’t even know where to start. So yes, I have changed; I can no longer be vulnerable, I can’t cry in front of anyone, I can’t do anything but pretend. I come from a world where I’m not allowed to suffer from depression and so I’ll keep watching out for myself (a.k.a taking brief moments to fall apart on the washroom floor, layering on the concealer to hide the puffy eyes, wearing shirts that cover my forearms, lying to everyone I know, and motivating myself to make it to the next minute) until the wave passes.

It’s me, myself and I; always has been.

forever and maybe not always,

F.

[justaspoonfulofnothing]

life's a fucking shitshow my family is fucking transphobic my mum initially told me she'd accept me yet there's a million fucking things she says and does that make me wanna kill myself on top of that my little brother fucking outed me to my grandma and her partner even though i told everyone enough fucking times to keep their goddamn mouths shut everyone knows i'm hella dependent on my mum to get shit done yet she's judging me for it and refuses to help me or make me feel good i watched endgame last night and haven't cried this much in idk ever and i feel like shit i almost passed out again but i didn't bc i fought it for hours i was grossly sobbing throughout the entire fucking thing the people next to me literally looked at me bc i was behaving so intensely i was not okay and still am not i want to say why and share it all but i'm not that asshole who spoils it for everyone not even chancing it i'm depressed as shit bc i forgot to take my meds like three days ago and that's how long it takes but also endgame and i took 5 instead of 3 pills and it's all natural and fine but like imagine how depressed you have to be for that much to not work anyways i haven't felt this bad in over a year and honestly the fact that i managed to eat today and carry on as best as i can says a lot about the amount of strength i've built over the years i miss them so fucking much i tried to send an e-mail to a tattoo shop but my gmail is synching apparently yet it's been 6 hours or so and nothing's happening i want to get the tattoo next month i want to get many others over the years once i got top surgery and shit i hate myself so much and i thought i'd grown out of those negative thought and behavioural patterns yet here we are just taking punch after punch after punch i wish i was so many things that i'm not and i wish i'd never seen endgame despite it being an absolutely incredible film infinity war can suck it but they did do some characters dirty and if i don't fucking forget i can't wait to rant about that shit but for now i can't even talk about the film and what happened at all bc i'd genuinely break down and that's the last thing i need last night was the first time since i was idk a fucking toddler that i cried in public i mean it was half past fucking three in the morning but that's how bad it was and IS and i just wish what happened didn't happen and i wish my family wasn't my family i just want to move to london but a bitch has fucking problems and can't deal with shit so we gon be stuck in this shithole forever people are the absolute worst my plants are dying nobody understands me i have never felt this alone and i miss the pupper but if i wanted to see him again i'd have to see my family as well and i don't know if i should bc they literally make me wanna kill myself anyways i touched up my tint tattoo for the third time bc this ink is shit and i might've overdone it bc trigger warning i guess i kinda wanted to hurt myself and just didn't realise when to stop but it's all good not infected or a fail or anything just idk i'm fighting a lot of shit right now and ignore this text i just have to vent somewhere i haven't edited in ages i know exactly who to edit but it's too fresh and i'm literally about to cry again i'm so tired of life and everything and idk i'm a fuck up i can't even make up my mind about what to study every time i decide on sth i just think something else would be so cool i'm almost 20 and stuck at my third job since graduation meanwhile i'm supposed to be some genius but my mental health just totally fucked it and idk anymore i'm just tired and hate my family fucking quiet transphobes and homophobes and biphobes i'm never sharing anything with them ever again they can choke on their own spit and burn in hell i don't even care anymore everything fucking sucks and i wish i wasn't alive as the person i am surrounded by these shitwanks in the world we live in i just hate everything