#especially when their way of dealing with it makes mine so much worse

[trans-cuchulainn]

i hate how my current State Of Brain means when people around me are struggling i am a) not able to help them effectively and b) likely to get worse by being around them because i am stressed out by it, because then that makes me feel like i am making their problems about me. of course i also do not want them to be suffering for their own sake. but at the present time all i can think about is how i don't want them to be suffering for my sake because i am not stable enough to be around them if my presence isn't actively helping, and that's bad for everyone involved tbh

[yanxidarlings]

YANDERE HP GOLDEN ERA: SLYTHERIN BOYS X DORMMATE READER

continuation of my previous post (i got caught up in getting out my anthony goldstein headcanons was it obvious). okay so full disclosure, i haven't read the fanfictions lorenzo and mattheo are from (i only read yandere is it obvious) (i see their faceclaims and cannot. exclude), so if i'm not portraying them correctly shout at me. but just for a moment, imagine having the 79-80 liner slytherin boys yandere for their dormmate? (okay there is a loophole i'll write for male readers/darlings if asked).

maybe they've known the reader/darling since childhood, and the sudden close proximity magnifies the possessive and obsessive tendencies they were developing towards the darling. or, the darling could suddenly get sorted into slytherin and now they have a roommate they did not expect to have. for the second scenario i don't think the darlings personality would matter much - either way, they're all apprehensive about this really cute kid they suddenly are dorming with.

maybe they give the reader a hard time at first (although this is only really likely to happen for a darling in a different house, or a muggleborn darling) but whoo boy if anyone else thinks of teasing the reader, they'll get hell from our dear slytherins here. actually, anyone who the reader pays mind to becomes a target of torment and bullying by draco and his gang. especially potter. please, reader, for potters own sanity and the good of the wizarding world, do not approach, think about or even look in the direction of harry. it ends in an ugly tantrum from draco, prolonged sarcasm from theodore, silence from blaise, aggression from mattheo and teasing from lorenzo. crabbe and goyle won't be carrying your books for you for the next week either.

when they get like this, it'll be the darling that'll have to make it up to them, or risk having it all drag out until one of them gets over it naturally.

GREGORY GOYLE & VINCENT CRABBE (cast josh herdman, jamie waylett):

they're all horribly possessive and jealous by default, but generally, crabbe and goyle are the easiest to deal with, they both have a soft spot for their darling, and are pretty used to being bossed around, the second choice and having to share. they're also the easiest to appease, putting food on crabbe's plate is enough to make him happy, and paying goyle any mind will go a long way.

they don't need constant attention (draco), validation (draco), and affection (draco), from their darling, and are content just being in their life.

BLAISE ZABINI (cast louis cordice):

after them, i honestly don't know who's worse. going in alphabetical order, blaise appears to be calm and uncaring when it comes to his darling, but do not be fooled, he's not going to sit back and let his darling get whisked away by the likes of a half blood (sorry mattheo), spolit daddy's boy (apologies draco), spolit mommy's boy (soz enzo) or someone who's one lab accident away from becoming a supervillain (blaise's words not mine theo).

blaise tolerates the rest of the slytherins for now, but if any of them think he'd ever fully agree to sharing with the likes of them, they are wrong. he fantasises about taking his darling away from the world after graduating, and probably has his mother trying to arrange a marriage the moment he decides they're his.

DRACO MALFOY (cast tom felton):

unlike blaise, draco is not even a little bit subtle about his possesiveness over his darling, he only see's the other slytherins as tools to ensure his darlings safety and happiness at hogwarts, and does not bother to pretend like he isn't planning to kidnap move the reader into malfoy manor the minute they graduate. actually, he couldn't wait that long.

he'll look for any opportunity to have the malfoy family gain custody of his darling. all the more better if his darling comes from a dysfunctional household. but either way, he'll make sure his family is all they have to turn to.

all i know about lorenzo is that he has mommy and daddy issues so i'll have to piggybank off that. he'll present himself as the 'sane' one, if his darling is complaining about the behaviour of the other slytherins, enzo wholeheartedly agree's with them "i don't know what's wrong with all of them - you sure you didn't slip any amortentia into their drinks?" he becomes a safe haven from the possessive obsession his dormmates seem to share for their darling.

LORENZO BERKSHIRE (fancast louis patridge):

lorenzo acts the most normal, but don't be fooled, he's just as obsessed as the rest of them. enzo is just better at hiding it. he too, frequently thinks about whisking them away, but is much less finite about it; holing his darling up in his house isn't the end goal. he could honestly live with sharing them with his fellow slytherins, but this is all assuming that the reader takes well to his attempts at becoming the 'sane one'.

if enzo isn't able to successfully befriend them, he'll have to settle for being the 'mean one'. teasing and humiliation follows his darling, as does he. it's not severe, but it's probably the push the reader needs to fall into deep depression and anxiety. so please, take the sane bait.

MATTHEO RIDDLE (fancast benjamin wadsworth):

mattheo doesn't exactly have a family reputation to uphold, blaise, draco, enzo and theo would want to keep up a respectable reputation, whatever that is in pureblood society, but mattheo? the dark lords son? he's entirely unhinged.

if lorenzo is the 'sane one', mattheo is the 'crazy one'.

he doesn't really care what his darling, or others, think of his behaviour. if he wants to spend time with them, he's going to. he'll pull them out of class, drag them away from the other slytherins, just to skip rocks in the black lake with them, or raid the kitchens. he doesn't really bother hiding his yandere tendencies, he'll actively tell his darling not to talk to certain people "because i said so" "stop asking questions", and will refuse to elaborate further. sometimes, there will be disturbing moments of honesty between him and his darling; he'll admit that he's obsessed with them, and threaten to attack people they pay attention to. and he'll tell them that they belong to him.

sometimes it's frightening and sometimes he'll come across as sweet. he is both predictable and unpredictable, which puts his darling at unease around him.

THEODORE NOTT (fancast lorenzo zurzolo):

theodore uses guilt to garner his darlings sympathy, all the more easier if they are childhood friends. he'll make sure they know about his harsh childhood, and make them feel responsible for his wellbeing. he's the only one to create a sense of dependency not built upon threats. out of all the slytherins, he gets to know his darling the best, he'll use guilt, emotional breakdowns and dark secrets to create a sense of obligation towards him.

theo is the most comforting of the slytherins to be around, he's quiet and the only one who they can spend time with without feeling much pressure. he demands the most of their attention, and is by far the most possessive. whilst i can see the other slytherins finding a way to deal with sharing their darling amonst themselves, if the rest don't back off eventually (stop dreaming theo) (they won't), he's the most inclined to just get rid of them - he can't stand it when his darling is around anyone but him, he wakes early to walk his darling to class just so they won't get caught up in the busy halls, where eyes can wonder and other people can have a chance to interact with his darling.

theodore pairs with them for every project, which leads to some ugly arguments between him and blaise, who only really get's his fill of his darling by sitting next to them in class. and draco, and mattheo and enzo and even goyle who was hoping the reader would help get him a good grade for once.

out of all of them, draco, goyle and blaise are the most patient. they want their darling to love them, not see them as monsters to flinch away from.

theodore, lorenzo and mattheo will take whatever they can get. lorenzo in particular doesn't want his darling to fear him but won't let them get away with trying to escape or disobedience. mattheo doesn't mind being the villain if he must be, but his heart clenches when his darling acts so obviously distrustful of him. theodore is the least patient, and if his darling starts to shy away from him, he snaps. at them, at the rest of the slytherin boys. but he's also easy to keep content, so long as his darling is always by his side.

similarly, blaise just enjoys being in the presence of his darling, and doesn't feel the need to cuddle up to them constantly like draco and enzo do. mattheo is a loose canon, and sometimes is fine being near them, other times he wants skin to skin contact 25/8.

they're hopeless at sharing, and only really get along for the sake of their darling. there are only really two ways this can end; theodore finally snaps and tries to off the rest of them after graduation, or they somehow come to an agreement on sharing, maybe they each get their own day a week

monday for draco, tuesday for blaise, wednesday for theo, thursday for enzo, and friday for mattheo. goyle and crabbe probably aren't taken seriously enough to get given their own day, so then the weekends are spent sharing (fighting).

the only time the boys will work in tandem is when someone attempts to take their darling and their attention, away. best example, darling starts dating someone. which is already pretty improbable, considering they give the reader no alone time whatsoever. but let's just say the darling here is going on a date with cormac mclaggen (get a grip, darling), any grudges they've been holding against each other are off, mclaggen has just signed his death warrant.

mattheo and theodore do most of the dirty work, whilst lorenzo distracts the reader. draco and blaise cover up their tracks, so it seems like whatever they did to mclaggen was an untimely accident. or have it blamed on someone else. goyle and crabbe intimidate anyone who tries to get close to the darling from then on.

they might hate sharing with each other, but they truly despise sharing with an 'outsider'.

[he-calls-me-kitten]

I literally just read through your entire blog and I am so impressed with how you write for the obey me characters. Could I request the obey me characters with a reader that's half succubus/incubus so they have certain needs once in a while but just try and hold it till it physically hurts? But it comes at random no matter the time or place. Whether it be in school, at a meeting, what was supposed to be a fun shopping spree ect.

Aww thanks for reading my little rambles :') and for being so sweet. Also wow I love this ask so damn much. Going into heat will never not be hot.

Desperate Measures

Obey me characters x Sub GN!MC

It had been growing inside you for quite a while now - this knot in your stomach, a dull constant ache. But you'd trained yourself to deal with it. You could handle it pretty well, especially given that you were half succubi/incubi.

However, you knew it would grow to the point you couldn't hold it anymore. You just had to make sure you were alone when that happened, away from friends and family. And you'd have to relieve yourself over and over for the next three days.

Atleast...that was the plan. But now you were leaning against the wall, barely keeping yourself upright with the pounding in your head and the desire spreading rapidly into your blood. This was worse than anything you'd experienced before. Your hands made way into your underwear, trying to provide yourself some sort of relief.

Yet, that wasn't even the worst part. You weren't alone. He was there, right next to you, feeling your arousal that hung so heavily in the air.

"MC..." He called out your name and the flame inside you lapped at your heart. Fuck, you need him. NOW. One glance and you knew he'd readily relieve you. He was holding back, just waiting for you to ask. You watched his face flush red as you desperately whispered his name.

"Lucifer..."

He didn't need to be asked any further. He promptly fixes your dishevelled state before taking you straight to the student council. He locks the door securely as you hold onto his arm for support.

"Noone is supposed to come here for the next three hours." You see him pull off his gloves with his teeth, unbuttoning the RAD uniform. "Will that be enough for you?"

You nodded wordlessly, rubbing your thighs together to hide your excitement. He unbuckled his belt and zipped down his pants before he pulled you into his lap.

"Next time just summon me. What were you thinking doing in the hallway in uniform?" Lucifer muttered in your ear, his hands cupping your sex.

"Heat...too much at once...sorry..." You mumbled apologies as he unbuttoned your shirt and let his cold hands skim over your perked nipple. He smirked. "I haven't done this in a while. Be prepared. I might get rougher than you're used to."

🥀

"Mammon..."

He draws a sharp breath as he realises what he might have to do. He promptly puts a protective arm around you and takes you to the closest storage room he can find.

"Oi, could you not look at me like that?" He struggles to meet your needy gaze, his heart pounding. "You're driving me crazy, MC..."

"I'm sorry I couldn't help it..." You turn your gaze downwards. And now it's worse. Mammon holds your face with both his hands before kissing you tenderly. The way your tongue darts out at him catches him off-guard.

He meets your intensity eagerly. At the back of his head, he imagines what would happen if it was someone else who saw you like that. And he hates it. Mine. He repeats quietly as he bites into your neck.

His hands move downwards, pulling you tight towards him, his erection pushing between your thighs. You moan into his mouth. He lets out a guttural growl. "You better not to go anyone else when you're like this, get that MC?"

🥀

"Levi..."

"M-MC!" His head is turning to mush even as you try to explain what's going on. Only he already knows it and is losing his mind seeing you like this.

"Please help...Levi..." You plead. He should have been the last possible choice. He wouldn't even know how to do it well, so it relieves you. Aren't you better off asking Asmo?

And yet he says none of this out loud. He helps you to his room, his body trembling and burning at your proximity and what he knows is about to come. You rush out of your clothes, sitting in his bathtub. His heart is about to jump out of his chest looking at your eager eyes.

"L-lean back." Levi cushions your head against his hand, on the edge of the tub. "This must be so uncomfortable I'm sorry..." You simply shake your head and close your eyes. He takes the hint. Gingerly, he lets his unworthy lips touch yours.

And in the very next, he loses all restraint. Your entire bodies are entangle, his whimpers and desperate kisses against your skin already driving you insane. He thrusts into you like there's no tomorrow, like his life depends on it.

🥀

"Satan.."

There are a dozen potions and a hundred spells he knew, all that could have helped you out of this. And Satan could have definitely used any one of those. But calling his name out like that...was foul play.

"Are you sure you want me to relieve you?" He tucked a stray hair behind your ear, as you both hid behind a bookshelf in the library. His touch sent you reeling for more. "I may not be able to stop once I start, MC..."

"I won't stop you." You held onto his hand as he tried to pull away. "Use me as you will. Just please, touch me, Satan." Something snapped in his mind.

His hands were fast and greedy as he almost ripped the buttons off your shirt. You threw your head back, overwhelmed by his vigor and ferocity. You felt his teeth sinking into your skin to leave marks all over.

But then he was deliberately slow. While he did want to relieve you, make you more comfortable - he didn't want to let this side of you go. He wanted to savor your taste,touch and moans longer. Much, much longer.

🥀

"Asmo.."

The absolute delight on his face is unparalleled. It's as if he'd been waiting for this very day. Honestly, he was the best possible person to run into in your situation. Who can better take care of you than the Avatar of Pleasure himself?

"Oh, MC. Tsk tsk, why did you wait so long?" He scooped you up in his arms and carried you to the comfort of his bed. He wants your smell to linger. He wants to lay in it at night, jerking himself off again.

You throbbed with desire as he stripped himself off and unbuttoned your uniform painfully slow. You whined his name to hurry him up. "So impatient, so adorable..." He chuckles.

He sits up pulling you to his lap. You didn't even need prep at this point, you are already dripping on his sheets as he suckles on your chest.

"So smooth and tight...ah MC you really are something else aren't you?! Ahaha I think I might get addicted to your body like this...what will you do about it then?" He bounces you on his dick like his favourite fuck toy.

🥀

"Beel..."

He's worried more than anything else as he carries you to your room. You look so much in pain, can you get you medicine? How can he help?

He doesn't understand what's wrong until you let him see your dampening underwear. "Hm? Oh..." He goes quiet as he blushes. Your smell is slowly intoxicating him.

He presses a finger to the growing damp spot, making you yelp, "B-Beel..." His face inches closer, he wants to drink you in like Demonus. His tongue lashes out, slurping you up through the panties.

You moan and rut into his face as he pulls down the underwear and sucks you off relentlessly. It's a never ending cycle - the more he sucks, the more aroused you are and the more you release.

"Use this now, Beel. Please..." You carress his bulge through his pants, letting your feet lightly run over it. And he's more than ready to do it at command.

🥀

"Belphie..."

"Come to bed." He takes you by the hand and plops himself down the bed first, asking you to be on top of him. Turns out he required assistance too.

"You caused this, MC." He smirked, raising his hips to rub his erection on you. "So turn youself around. Let's help each other out."

You groaned and did as he asked. Even now, he wouldn't stop being a brat. You felt him pull down your pants, groping your ass.

It seems he was using anticipation to turn you on, and it was working. You felt heat pool between legs, dripping and ready as he pushed his fingers deep inside you. You gripped his erection making his groan and grip your thighs.

"You're such a tease, MC." He bites into your soft flesh. "You're no different." You snap back and you both break into smiles.

🥀

"Solomon..."

He runs his thumb over your trembling lips. As much as he wants this, he's conflicted. The way you are pulling him closer, your fingers dancing on his neck - how painfully tempting.

"I have spells to calm you temporarily. And once we go home I can make you a potion to suppress-" You shut him up with a kiss. He couldn't hold back his arms from wrapping around you, lifting you off the ground.

"I'd much rather have you...please..." You whisper urgently into his ear, placing a kiss right under it. His desire grows tenfold, his fears now put to rest. "Then I'll be delighted to oblige."

Seconds later you are both naked and entangled under his sheets, the door to his room locked shut. He devours your moans hungrily, as he fills you up with himself. Over and over and yet it wasn't enough for either of you.

He littered your skin with bites and marks, holding your hands above your head. Hours upon hours and yet he never stopped once. "S-Solomon, too much, I can't.. can't cum anymore..." You lost count of how many times you've done it but he simply kisses your forehead. "One last round, MC, I know you can do it..."

🥀

"Simeon..."

He lets you lean on him, as your knees sway and buckle under your weight. Your cheeks feel warm and tingly on his shoulders. He knows what you're asking but he's not sure he can give it to you.

But his head gets clouded with deep-set anger and jealousy as he pictures you with anyone else. "Not here,MC, let's go somewhere quieter."

You sit in his room, between his legs, his hands wrapped around your waist. "Does this help?" He whispers as he lets his hands carress your chest, over your shirt. You nod as his touch turns more eager, more aggresive. One of hands unbuttoning you and slipping inside.

"Mmh...Simeon!" You yell out his name as he takes the shirt right off you, kissing your neck to your shoulder. His breath is so ragged and heavy, his restrain is admirable. Especially given the growing bulge against your hips.

"Your expression..so pretty...I can't stop watching you, MC." You watched him stare at you in the mirror, his hands now spreading apart your legs, palming your crotch. The lust in his eyes was overwhelming.

🥀

"Barbatos..."

The man is overflowing with the need to serve, to please. He asks no questions about it. Simply lifts you up in his arms and carries you off to his chambers. He sets you down gently on his bed, taking his gloves off. He wants no layers between your bodies. None.

Your needy eyes drive him crazy as he hurries to undress you. You cover up your naked self, embarrassed and excited. "Don't worry, MC, I'll do my very best. I'll make you enjoy every minute of it."

It takes him barely fifteen minutes to get you overstimulated and crying out for release. He's building it up to the epic end; you can tell by his smile. "B-Barbatos please...too much...just let me please...just..."

"As you wish, MC." His tail appears out of nowhere, wrapping around your legs and spreading them apart, right before his penetrates you all at once. His mouth latches onto your neck. He feels the vibrations as you scream his name in pleasure.

"Please be sure to come to me, if such a problem arises again. Am I understood, MC?" He mumurs into your back, after he's flipped you around. You simply nod, your words incoherent as he pounds into you again.

🥀

"Diavolo..."

He wouldn't have cared about the people or place if your need was too dire. He's the Prince after all, who would dare speak up against him? And especially when he's simply trying to help out a student in need?

"Diavolo...there would be better." You had to point towards the washrooms as he was already lifted you into his arms, making your legs cross behind his back, arms draped around his neck.

He was silent at first. Eyes dark with lust and desire as you lifted your arms for him to undress. "I didn't know humans are...this beautiful..." He let his fingers run down your bare chest and stomach.

"...so soft." He mumbled as he pressed his face against your chest. "...so good." His tongue savored the taste of your skin. "Mhmmm Diavolo..." Your voice was so much prettier like this. Should he always keep you in this state?

It was a miracle how you fit his whole length inside you. Diavolo traced your abdomen, he could see himself bulge inside. It drove him mad with excitement. You were already leaking out and he hadn't even started thrusting yet.

[thatanimeramenchick]

Headcanons for Vox and Alastor both falling in love with an extremely powerful Overlord known as the Pink Death, she is called that because she's thought of as an incurable plague that consumes and annihilates everything she comes into contact with and she's a Pink Bunny demon and she's so powerful all the other Overlords, even Zestial are terrified of her, since when she arrived in Hell, she killed every Overlord that existed in that time and took their powers?

Incredibly Powerful Reader

Since this is a yandere blog, this will be done with that in perspective.

I also want to do this with the mindset that it is impossible to technically permanently kill other demons without angelic weapons. It is true that Alastor has made other demon overlords “disappear,” but I feel like it’s implied that he has somehow destroyed them in a way that is much worse than death, perhaps in a horrific existence in between realities? I don’t know. Anyway, I feel like the killing people with diseases temporarily and being a major threat is still an interesting view though. The complete toll you could have on demon and sinner society by wiping them out in waves whenever you felt like it would give you a lot of power in hell.

Anyway, when it comes to the guys, I see them actually sharing quite a few things at first.

Both of them would hope that their experience and ability to play manipulation games would allow for them to outsmart you, even if you are significantly more powerful than they are. Whether they actually do or not depends on you and your personality, but I could see them getting the upper hand if you’re not careful, especially Alastor.

Both of them also would hope to win you into a contract that allows them to have you under the thumb, but they would present it as giving you a power boost to help you clinch full power over hell. The details of this contract and their way of going about it will differ, but ultimately that is the goal each of them would have.

Vox

Media thrives on disaster. You’ve created a gold mine of content for this man. His interest in you would simply start out as using your story to promote his own company, and it would later turn into an obsession. Considering how the Vees are able to stay safe during extermination day through extreme isolation, I don’t think he would be too worried about the infection for similar reasons, simply being annoyed that it’s hurting the company as it’s messing with staff and therefore production.

If you decide to reject him, he can paint your powers to his advantage, threatening to use the media to paint you as a monster that hell needs to rally against at any cost. On the other hand, he could offer you a sweet deal if you want to get along nicely with him. He could make sure that everyone knows you’re the most powerful overlord in hell and that you should be respected and admired as well as feared. This is when the contract comes in, where he gets to portray you how you’d like as well as provide comfy living arrangements as long as you are willing to work alongside his company and only his company. He’ll make sure you’re on a higher position in the company than the underlings, considering how much power you have. Oh, and he’ll add a little clause that you’re not to turn your nasty tricks on him either.

Alastor

Alastor is more cautious than Vox is. While I see Vox as going the direct approach with you and a clear plan of aggression, Alastor would take his time, watching you from the shadows. He would want to get a clear idea of your personality and all its strengths and weaknesses before approaching you. Last thing he would want to do is simply irritate you.

I feel like his approach to you would be somewhat similar to how I think he is approaching Charlie. You are young and so perfectly easy to influence. Your potential is overflowing, surely you don’t want to waste it? If are just willing to submit to his ideals, he could make you the greatest overlord of all time, as well as gain total control of hell. The contract would be along similar lines. He would not rush the business like Vox would. He doesn’t want you to think he simply wants to use your powers after all. You have to feel like you’re giving in willingly because it benefits the both of you.

He would be subtle in his affection. He would make it seem like a business contract, but as you got entangled deeper and deeper in a mess you would come to see that he has a much more possessive and controlling relationship with you than you first thought. The details of the contract that at first seemed to exist to gain you some extra experience and security now seem like chains keeping you attached to a master has no intention of ever letting you become independent in your own right.

[shhh-secret-time]

Hi lovey! I would never pass up an opportunity to request something from you, you are litro my fav writer on here ^_^ Obsessed with the way you perfectly capture the love in your polyam stuff, can we get Style x fem reader with some fluffy and soft lovemaking👀 Aaaa I’d just die for that!

Lots of love from a loyal reader, take care of yourself 💘✨

Me? Me am favorite? Why?! You bless me with the sweet words. I hope I continue to serve.

Also happy Kyle Week guys! We stan a silly man in love! I had a blast writing this one!

Warning: NSFW, Strong Language, F/M/M, Threesome, Pillow violence.

Pairings: Stan x Fem!Reader x Kyle

It's the pressure on his chest that stirs him. At first it was gentle, almost comforting in a way, but now it's too much. Every time he takes a breath it's strained. Kyle doesn't need to open his eyes to know what the source of his discomfort is, he already knows.

Stanley Marsh was a cuddler. It wasn't a secret the man was the most touch starved human being in South Park, but some imaginary pride kept him from acting on it in public. Behind closed doors the man had to be touching Kyle constantly, especially if it was bedtime.

"Dude you can't break the nighttime routine. Hurry up and get your ass in this bed. I'm tired!"

"Then go to bed Stan! Just because you don't care about your skin's health doesn't mean I have to neglect mine!"

It would be one thing if it was just Stan, unfortunately he wasn't alone. You were just as bad, if not worse. Kyle couldn't recall any moment in his shared relationship with you and Stan if you were ever warm. Not a day went by that you didn't complain about being cold.

"Kyle, sweetheart, love of my life, sun in my sky, light of my-"

"Yes, you can use my hoodie and my sweatpants."

A part of him feels bad; because as he cracks open his eyes, letting that early morning light hit the greens of his eyes, you both look so peaceful on his chest. Nothing in this world ever makes him feel so at peace than when he catches his lovers cuddles up against him. Stan tucked into his side; face nuzzled into the crook of neck with a heavy arm wrapped around his chest. You under that arm, slotted between his legs with your head resting just below his heart.

No, he can't think of anything more perfect. One of the many perks of being an early riser. He'd never tell either of you how he lies here for the first ten minutes of his day just admiring your sleeping forms. The way your hair clung to your face or how you would mumble under your breath, letting him know what kind of dreams you were having. Or how Stan's lips would curl up into a smile when he placed a kiss on his forehead. It was adorable that he could give him a dorky smile in his sleep, even with that trail of drool rolling down the side of his chin.

Kyle could deal with the sore arm and crushed lungs, not even the sweat bothered him. But the one thing Kyle couldn't stand being was being late, he couldn't stand it when his schedule was thrown off. If the shrill screaming alarm went off, it meant it was time to get up. Time to start his day and get work done so he can come home to the both of you as quickly as possible. Do the work, get the reward. That anxiety of keeping anyone waiting for him or being late for something was too strong to ignore.

So, what was he to do when his alarm went off and his two partners wouldn't move. Normally the alarm at least stirred you off him, made Stan roll over and give him room to get up. Something about this chilly Thursday morning kept you both glued to your spots. If anything, Kyle thinks he felt Stan's muscles twitch and his arm slide down towards his waist, tightening his hold on him. Your smaller frame moving closer to the source of warmth, sliding your cold little hands under his shirt. He couldn't tell if you were secretly awake and punishing him for even thinking about moving, or if you were just innocently still asleep. Either way that damn alarm wouldn't stop screaming.

With a huff, he moves his free arm across your body and makes a grab for the phone. Stan's eye, the one not buried in the crook of his neck, cracks open and he swats Kyle's hand. Sleep still trapped in his eyes, Stan fumbles with the device making it stop its cry for attention. He misses the glare Kyle shoots his way.

"Stop movin'." Stan's grumbled words make it sound like he's not asking, but Kyle wasn't having it.

"You know I need to get up. Now come on, let me get up." Kyle goes to move you off his chest and into Stan's arms. He figures you both can keep each other warm and comfortable so he can get up to start his day.

"Stop moving..." You whine in response to him trying to get up. He lets out the softest grunt when you push on his chest.

His brows furrow when he's pushed back down onto the bed. Kyle's back hits the plush of the bed making the headboard knock against the wall. If this kind of behavior was done on the weekend, he would have found it kind of adorable that you're both being so whiney. It did make Kyle feel loved that he was wanted, but being loved doesn't pay the bills or excuse irresponsibility.

So, he tries again, moves his arm out from under Stan and wraps it around you. In your sleepy haze you think he's going to give you a hug and give into the snuggling. You should have known better, should have remembered that Kyle was a stubborn man. Kyle twists his body in Stan's hold and uses you as a shield. Moving you into the arms of the raven-haired man, which Stan almost falls for. It's instinct at this point for Stan to hold you.

As much as he clings to Kyle, Stan clings to you. He loves picking you up and taking you away from whatever you're working on for cuddles. You don't fight him nearly as much as Kyle does and you get his warmth, it's a win-win. You huff in response, how dare that man use you and Stan's weakness against you.

"Kyle...noooo! Come back to bed." Your hands fly out to grab at his pajama shirt, tugging on the material.

"Don't give me that. I already told Stan I need to get up, you heard my alarm I know you did." The scolding in Kyle's tone dies when he sees how sweet you look. Even Stan looks adorable with his messy hair and baby blue eyes.

How dare you use his weakness for puppy dog eyes against him. The only defense he can think of is to turn his head and twist his body away from cute kryptonite. Turning his back on you proved to be his downfall. As soon as he did Stan's arm was around his waist, pulling him back against him again. You slipped around his body as if this was a coordinated attack. You moved your hands up his chest and locked them lazily around his neck.

"You're both horrible! God damn it Stan let me go! And you-" Kyle's protests come with a healthy scowl, one he's sure you're not taking seriously. "-you stop helping him!"

"Just five more minutes, please!" You whisper pleading, almost begging.

He knows better. Kyle knows better than to say yes because it won't be five minutes. It'll turn into ten, and that ten will turn to twenty. He'll be trapped here until Stan's alarm goes off, where he'll lay there watching him hit snooze three times. By then he'll have hit the fourth and Kyle will be late for work.

"No. I warned you both last night not to stay up and watch Castlevania." Despite his complaints, Kyle finds his body starting to melt back into the bed. His muscles don't tense as they should. His hands don't pry you away from him and instead find home on your hips. He even lets Stan intertwine his legs with his.

"Hmm, you're just grumpy Stan and I watched it without you." You hum in response, pressing a soft kiss on one of the stray freckles on his neck.

"Hm." Stan doesn't seem to register the conversation you're having, just grunting to tell you he's still awake. And that he really doesn't want to be.

"I'm not upset that you- wait you watched it all?"

".... No?" You muffle your lie in his skin, trying to hide the growing smile creeping across your face.

"You little shit!" He goes to bite down on your neck, squirming out of Stan's hold just enough to pin your wrists back by your head.

Squeals and kicks aren't enough to get him to stop. He rolls you over until you’re flat on your back, being late for work is a distant thought. Not when you just ratted yourself and Stan out. A betrayal like this can't go unpunished. Try as you might, you can't fight back Kyle's light-hearted wrath. His hands are up and under your shirt before you can blink, squeezing and tickling the sides of your stomach.

"Stan! Stan, help meeee! He did it too! Get him!" One minute you're begging to be saved, the next you're trying to drag him down with you. Gasping loudly as you try to catch your breath in between giggles.

Stan grumbles something now more awake since all that kicking, you're doing landed his way. He rubs the sleep out of his eyes before registering what you just said. A little smirk playing on his lips and instead of coming to your aid, he props himself up on his elbow.

"He'll get his! Don't you worry!" Stan's smirk drops. Kyle cuts him off like he knows Stan was about to protest. "Stanley Marsh don't you even try and get out of this!"

Luckily for you Kyle's assault stops long enough for you to scramble away and catch your breath. Your heels dig into the bed, hands fumbling the pillow beside you. Anything to keep distance between Kyle and your sore sides. You watch as Stan sits up, giving Kyle a loving look. Slowly a hand cups Kyle's hips, soft digits rubbing circles in a way that allows him to dip them past the band of Kyle's sweatpants. The Marsh Charm™ is in full effect.

"Kyle...dude look we can watch it again. And we'll get all the satisfaction of watching your cute face react to the stuff we already know." Stan lets his voice dip low, sweet whispers against the shell of his ear.

"Yeah? To the stuff you already know?" Kyle leans into his touch, lips getting closer towards Stan's. He's close enough that Stan's eyelids lower down, breath ghosting across his partner's lips.

"Hm-m."

The poor fool. You almost feel bad for Stan. The Marsh Charm™ is but a candle to the roaring fire that is the Broflovski Wrath™. As soon as Kyle brushes his lips across Stan's lips, and the man's shoulders drop, a pillow is swung hard against the side of his head. Out of left field a flash of blue and white stripes slam into the side of Stan's head. Hovering over him in triumph, Kyle continues his attack. Stan's arms come up to defend his face from the memory foam, each wack making a thump against his head.

"I.don't.want.your.shitty.excuses!" Each word comes with a healthy swing. Kyle was on a warpath now. Denied the right to get up and get his morning coffee. Denied the right to a warm shower to wash the sleep out of his eyes. Denied the right to whatever else his morning routine demanded. And now he was denied any happiness that would have come with watching a silly Netflix animated series with the loves of his life.

Once he's decided Stan's had enough, he falls back onto the bed and sighs. He didn't need to look at his phone, there was no doubt in his mind that he was going to be late. So, he tosses the pillow onto Stan's face, who had just let his guard down again, and curls up next to you. Right back in the middle where you both had him moments ago.

"Fine. You win. The both of you are terrible, awful influences and when I get fired, you'll have no one to blame but yourselves." You and Stan both know that would never happen. The company Kyle worked for needed him badly, and he almost never called out of work.

When he closes his eyes, he expects the both of you to return to your spots. Reaping the sweet reward of a few more minutes of shut eye, basking in the warmth of his body like you always do. And in a way, you do. You and Stan take your positions against him, with you pressed up against his chest and Stan against his back.

Only you don't rest your head on his chest, instead he feels your hands playing with the metal snap buttons on his shirt. He feels Stan's hands playing with the hem of his pants again, hooking a thumb in the band of the sweats. Stan tugs him back against him just as your fingers pop a button open. The little snap makes his eyes shoot open.

"Someone's grumpy~"

"Are you mad at us baby?"

That purr in your voice and that little laugh that comes from Stan tells him that neither of you had any plans of going back to sleep. Kyle feels Stan's nails dig into his hips and can't help but groan a little at the pain. Those pretty sounds from his lips make Stan's cock jump up at attention, the borrowed basketball shorts do little to hide his growing arousal. Chapped lips trail down Kyle's neck, brushing up against the pulse point on his throat. Kyle's head lulls back expecting Stan to bite down, but all it does is open him up for Stan's lips to continue exploring.

He's so wrapped up in the way Stan makes him feel that he barely registers it when you push his shirt down. The shirt folds and slides down towards his elbows where you leave it. Your lips almost meet Stan's at the same point on his body, right on his shoulder where more freckles cover his skin. When your lips brush against Stan's you let out the sweetest laugh, one Kyle can feel make his heart speed up.

"Was here first~" Stan smirks down at you, nipping at your bottom lip. "I left his neck for you."

You giggle again and push your lips up against his as if to silence him with a kiss. You weave a response in between kisses. "You're the biter Stan, you take his neck."

"Don't talk like I'm- ah!" Kyle yelps when your teeth sink into his chest, right below his collarbone. It cuts his complaints short and turns it into a loud moan.

It's Stan's turn to laugh, a hint of pride in that deep sound. His thumb brushes over the bright red mark left behind, admiring it with a grin. He presses his lips back onto Kyle's skin right at the junction of his neck and shoulder.

"F..Fucking Christ you two. What happened to five more minutes?" Kyle gasps at the warmth left behind Stan's tongue.

"Stan and I had other ideas! You seemed so upset that we did something without you." As sweet as you sounded, the way your nails scraped down his chest and stomach made Kyle groan. "Now we're doing something with you. Isn't this better Ky?"

He wants to respond with a snarky comment, to gain some sense of control over the situation, but his head is spinning. He should be used to this by now, how you and Stan make him feel. But every kiss and hot breath that ghosts his skin makes his heart flutter, it makes him fall that much deeper in love. Especially when he hears praise after praise falls from your lips.

"So pretty."

Was he really? Kyle looked at himself in the mirror that was connected to your dresser. His face was flushed, and his hair was a mess.

"Love those sounds Ky."

His moans? Or the whimpers? Both? He couldn't stop them if he tried.

"Keep you rockin' your hips like that fuck you feel so good."

Just a little friction, something to help relieve his throbbing cock. Something to help Stan's that pushed him forward, forcing his cock to grind against the thin material of your underwear.

"Let’s get this off you."

The desperate whine that escapes his lips turns into a gasp when Stan pushes his sweats down. Your hands follow close behind pushing down his boxers leaving him in nothing but that sleep shirt still draped on his arms. Stan moves his hands off his hips for a moment, he feels the man shift behind him and soon the rustling of clothes close behind. But a second later he feels Stan's arousal against his.

His cock slides up between his legs pressing up against his. Kyle bites his bottom lip as he reaches down to grasp both members in his hand. Deft fingers wrap around them and begin pumping slowly, creating delicious friction. When Stan moans lowly and jerks his hips, it encourages him to go faster. Pre-cum being smeared in-between his hand and their shafts. It was messy but it made him feel so good, so good he didn't want to stop. He could feel that pressure building, pleasure rocking in his stomach in time with Stan's clumsy thrusts. He tightens his hand, squeezing the tips just as his hand comes back up.

It wasn't until he felt Stan's desperate hands grab at his wrist that he realized just how close he was. The hot pleasure that he was building up simmered down to a low heat. Tiny beads of sweat already forming on his chest and down his arms. When he looked down at you, you seemed to be enjoying the show.

Your fingers were dancing up and down his stomach, causing the skin to flex in response. He watched as they traced up towards Stan's arms and up back behind Kyle's head.

"We have all morning now Ky. Relax~ let's take it slow." Stan purred in his ear, low and soft. He felt his face burry into the crook of his neck again.

Kyle closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. Still, that didn't stop him from seeking out something to help his aching cock. He pulls you closer towards his frame, feeling your thighs instinctively spreading enough to where he can slot himself between. A moan escapes you as he slips his fingers down the hem of your underwear. He slips his fingers past the band, immediately seeking out your wetness. Kyle coats his fingers before placing them straight along your clit.

Your hips start to move in sync with his fingers. Grinding against the calloused fingertips, trying to create more friction. The angel of his hand and the fact that you were the only one still dressed made that difficult.

"Help me take this off."

You sound so desperate, how could he not? Hurriedly he removes his fingers from your cunt to assist you in removing what clothes you still had on. As soon as they were thrown off to the side, creating some pile in the corner of your shared bedroom, his fingers were back on you.

The only time his fingers stop their assault is when he feels your body tense. They sneak down, drenching in slick, he pushes them inside of you. Pulling his fingers out of you just enough to where he can slide them back inside. He creates a repetitive motion, curling his fingers against the sweet spot of your walls.

Stan watches from behind him with a humming approval. His own hand reaches out and grips your chin, bringing you closer. Your lips lock together for a brief moment. Gentle soft kisses that come with a warm smile. Your bodies pressed firmly against Kyle.

Stan gives you one last lazy peck on the lips before he moves his hand back down to Kyle's thigh. He nudges his legs open just enough to slip his hard cock up against his backside. There's a moment where he pulls away but it's only a breath. He twists his body back with a small blue bottle of clear gel.

Seconds later he repositions himself behind Kyle. It's like every moan you let out only encourages him. After putting a healthy amount of lube on his cock, Stan aligns himself back up against him. He takes the time to lather the cold gel onto his hole before gently pushing himself in. Kyle slightly winces in response, his body tensing but as he focuses on fingers on you, he relaxes.

"That's it Ky. Relax. I'm gonna make you feel so good." His sweet words coax him. Kyle can only bite his lip and nod.

At the same time, you pull his hand out of your soaked cunt. His fingers coated in your arousal. You smile up at him when his eyes fly down to you. He's worried for a moment, but that look of love and admiration in your eyes makes him relax.

Not wanting you to go far from him, Kyle wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you back against him. He copies Stan's movements and lifts your thigh, tossing your leg over his hip where Stan takes your ankle.

His hand going down to spread your lips where he eagerly guides his tip inside, you both sigh a relieving sigh at the feeling of it. A deep groan sounded from him and Stan both, once he's fully sheathed inside you. Stan rocks his hips forward, pushing in and out carefully. He tries to keep things slow, concentrating on pleasuring you just as much as Stan's giving him.

But the minute he rocks into you, being carried by Stan's momentum, he's commenting on his own desire. "More. Please, hurry up."

You roll your hips in response, hands flying out to be tangled up in his hair. There's that silent conversation that goes on between you and Stan again, one that he can't follow because of how much of a daze he's in. Stan presses a kiss on his cheek, you press one on his chest.

"Anything for you baby." It's the way your voice dips into a sultry purr and the way Stan's hands grab hips. "Like when you beg."

Kyle's seeing stars.

The delicious sounds and desperate use of his name almost sends him overboard. Stan's grip tightens and he picks up his movements, fucking him at a steady pace. Every time Stan drives his cock into him, it pushes his own further into you. Tight walls wrapped around his dick perfectly, like it was made for him.

Your walls stretch and pull him. Accommodating for the thick size, each thrust reaching further inside. Kyle nudges every sweet spot he can to pull more moans from you. The sound of wet skin on skin filled the room. A perfect rhythm and dance created.

It isn't until his name comes out in a choked cry that he knows how close you are. He hits a particular spot that had your vision turning white. That feeling of hot pressure shoots up through your body and down to your feet, you arch your back determined to have him repeat the action. "Th-there! Right there again! Please!"

Drawn-out moans escape his throat encouraging Stan to go faster and him to thrust harder. Your arms wrap around his neck bringing him down for another kiss. Stan's gaze makes it all the hotter, as he patiently waits for his turn. Once you break for air, Kyle doesn't get that luxury because Stan's mouth his on his before he can breathe. Each kiss makes him feel more and more loved.

Kyle has to break the kiss to breathe. To catch his breath and stop the room from spinning. The lack of air leads to the growing pressure building up in his stomach again. He's so close, he can feel his stomach tighten. That familiar warmth pooling at his stomach. He knew Stan was close from the way his hips were beginning to lose their steady rhythm. He wants to hold out. Find a way to cum together, he's not sure why he wants that so badly, but he does.

In seconds of wishful thinking, he feels your body start to tense. Your orgasm building higher and higher, walls constricting around his cock. Kyle watches your eyes flutter shut as a high-pitched whine escapes your lips.

"Close- 'm so close! Gonna cum!"

"Fu-fuck!"

Then like a band stretched too far. He snaps. Kyle lets his climax take over, spilling his load inside of you. The sight alone makes Stan follow shortly after. With a final thrust he buries himself deep inside of him, tightening his arms as he does. Between his blunt nails digging into your thighs and the lazy thrusts, you follow shortly after.

Kyle's heart was racing so loudly it was all he could hear past the soft panting. The out of breath chest heaving up and down in time with one another. He's never felt more connected to anyone before. Through his glossy vision he watches as you're the first to move, slipping off his softening cock. Stan follows behind pulling out of him slowly. Why was his body so spent? He felt so exhausted at that moment.

Your gentle hands move to help clean him, and Stan lifts him up enough to where he's back on his pillows. They've never felt so soft in that moment. He lets his eyes close, and he feels the weight of it all.

"Mm... give… give me a minute and I'll get up." Kyle mumbles in the fluff of the pillows.

"Okay baby. Stan and I are gonna make breakfast. That sound good?"

He doesn't respond. Even his mouth feels too heavy to talk. He just nods and decides to give himself five more minutes. Then he'll get up, grab a cup of coffee, and start his day.

[breedtheseed]

Adam is charlie mom, oh that would be a good angst idea

For example, maybe before heaven found out, adam had a baby. For the first couple of days, adam would spend every waking meal with charlie. Like singing her to sleep

Years later at the hotel at

Adam humming a song on the outside balcony

Charlie: Hey adam

Adam: charlie what are you doing up?

Charlie: couldn't sleep

Adam: oh okay

1 hour later they both still awake

Adam thinks I haven't done this in a while, but I remember correctly . She fell asleep in minutes: Hey Charlie, you want me to do a tick for you to go to bed

Charlie: sure

Adam started to hum and sing a bit in minutes, charlie fell asleep

Adam: still works like a charm

This AU hurts my soul and I was writing it with someone in a server so some of these parts are theirs and some are mine. Also I just copied and pasted the texts so it’s gonna have some grammar mistakes on my end. (Their Twitter)

Discord idea

(Adam is Charlie’s real mother)

So running on the idea that Lucifer and Adam used to hook up a lot at the beginning of Adam joining heaven eventually they had a hard falling out when Adam found out Lilith and Lucifer were getting married and chose Lilith over him once again.

But Adam found out he was pregnant he hid the pregnancy with eating more and hiding his body.

When he had the baby he was completely alone and if Heaven found out it was Lucifer’s who knows what they’d do, especially because the baby looked just like Lucifer.

He swallowed his pride and gave his baby girl one last kiss before leaving her at Lucifer’s castle to which Lucifer adopted Charlie immediately, especially since Lilith liked the idea of kids but not the idea of having them, part of the reason her and Adam didn’t work out.

So with this AU Adam still falls in a similar way but instead he falls because of Lilith back stabbing him and stuff

And Charlie hates Adam because Adam lead the exterminations

And Adam is just in pain because his kid hates him and he can’t even talk without her looking at him like he’s a monster

When he first saw Charlie the air caught in his throat because his baby girl was all grown up, she looked just like Lucifer. Poor Adam having to deal with the idea that Charlie grew up without him and doesn’t see him as anything more than just Adam the Man in charge of the exterminations

Wondering if Lucifer knows. He couldn't NOT know, Charlie looks EXACTLY like him, and who else would be the mother? Unless Lucifer was fucking around with others too, which only depresses Adam worse.

(Me)

Poor Adam knowing deep down no one wants him but little did he know Adam realized Charlie was Adam’s but it was only after Lilith had pointed out how similar Lucifer and Charlie were despite “not being related”

Just...he had no way of bringing it up without it being awkward

And especially because Adam never acknowledged it too

Adam may have gone to that last Extermination drink off his ass just to get through it. Getting lost in the role he had to play. He wasn't actually going to kill Charlie, but he had to pretend. He's always had to pretend.

He especially had to pretend to Heaven

And when Lucifer showed up...instead of just ending it, Lucifer mocked him all over again. Fine. *FINE*. Adam wouldn't even ENTERTAIN the notion of talking it out. Just go scorched earth on this bitch, he was DONE

Just having so much pent up anger that he lets everything happen because he couldn’t man up and say something sooner

And then he was stabbed. Like 26 times, Great. Now he's dying. And no one will know the truth.

Sobbing not cuz he’s dying but because he died lying to everyone, *Sigh* 😔 I know it makes sense to kill him but imagine Lucifer saves him

Now he's alive. But practically a prisoner. Fuck, he might as well have kicked it

Being numb to everything and just accepting his fate as a loser

Even when Lucifer shows him the door opens. It's unlocked. He can come out.

He doesn’t even try just stays where he is holding his arm feeling like shit and Lucifer has to coax Adam. Only then does Adam follow Lucifer but still keeps his distance behind the king

Adam keeping his distance. Last time he got near, Lucifer beat the shit out of him and would have finished him off if not for Charlie

Imagine Lucifer was angry because Adam had the audacity to abandon Charlie and then almost kill her, not knowing Adam was drunk and at the time Charlie reminded him of Lucifer. The one who knocked him up and got away

Adam definitely not welcome at the Hotel so he's stuck at Lucifer's palace. His bedroom might be open but he's locked in when Lucifer is gone. Which gives him ample time to raid Lucifer's bar and get drunk enough to forget how every time he hits rock bottom, life keeps handing him a pickaxe

The first time Lucifer had come home to a very drunk Adam asleep on his bed he was annoyed especially because Adam smelled like too much alcohol.

however one day he had come home the usual, Adam drunk and laying on his bed. Lucifer sighed and walked to his closet only to hear Adam start sobbing and mumbling something that sounded like an apology.

It left an uneasy feeling on Lucifer not knowing if it was the alcohol talking or Adam was actually apologizing, he found out when he saw the man dead asleep with streams running down his face.

In his sleep, Adam had his arms curled like he's holding something

Whimpering and a cry woke him up, Adam’s eyes snapped towards the sound but the room was empty there was no one in his room and no traces of the cry actually being there.

The sound was unforgettable, he heard it in his nightmares or in his dreams. It was Charlie’s, he engraved it in his mind when she was born and he had to shield them in his wings as he held her close and cleaned her off. He remembers how small she was in his arms, how the girls pipes were the same as his other children.

Adam winced at the migraine he had, his skull was throbbing. He must have gotten back into Lucifer’s stash again. Though Lucifer never really seemed mad when Adam would go on his drinking sessions when he was away

Which was good. He wasn't going to stop. He just avoided Lucifer when he could, didn't mess anything up, and resigned himself to being the ghost that haunts the place halls. Because that's what he was. A ghost. Avoiding the north wing because that's where the big fuckoff portrait of Lilith and Lucifer were. He could spend hours glaring at it, remembering how Lucifer said he was marrying Lilith after all this time, and then just days later finding out he was pregnant.

Sometimes he’d debate fucking the picture up or he’d end up curled under it crying, it was best to just avoid it as much as possible.

At some point Adam found Lucifer’s Alcohol storage empty, and he panicked because without it he felt he couldn’t function. He couldn’t even be near Lucifer or even in the castle being sober. There was too much too much Charlie and too much Lucifer. How could he avoid it or even confront it without breaking down.

“Adam that’s enough,” Adam froze as he was throwing things around trying to look for something anything that could take his thoughts away from Lucifer. “Adam this is just sad, you can’t keep running away from me,” Lucifer stepped close too close and Adam found himself trying to get away from Lucifer despite being in a corner. “Adam I told Charlie about your behavior and she’d like to help you in your recovery,” Lucifer’s words weren’t registering in Adam’s head, he was only hearing bits and pieces.

He shakes his head, covering his ears with his hands. His head was pounding and he needed a hair of the dog before the migraine really kicked in. He couldn't process Lucifer, he DEFINITELY couldn't process Charlie.

Despite Adam’s protests he was dragged to see Charlie, and he was fucking sober. He hated it.

Charlie wasn’t too pleased about it either but from what her dad was telling her, maybe Adam wasn’t as bad as she originally thought. Especially after seeing him in person, he looked horrible and Charlie was sure that her dad was the one who dressed him because he did not look capable of doing so. Adam looked his age despite also looking young, he had lost weight in his face making him look like death. The guys hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in weeks maybe even months, Charlie actually felt sorry for the guy.

Adam on the other hand was out of it, his mind choosing to disassociate and go on autopilot which didn’t last long because Lucifer kept bringing him back.

Husk immediately recognized the issue, making up a bloody mary despite Charlie's protests and giving it to Adam. "Look, I've seen the different levels of alcoholism, and if this fucker wasn't an angel, he'd be dead already. He needs to come down gradually, not cold turkey!"

Husk gives Lucifer a look of disappointment before giving Adam the drink, though Adam looks to the other two before drinking. Waiting for their approval before drinking it.

“Look Adam you can join me instead, but I ain’t going to talk about my feelings with you got it,” Husk made clear as they made their way to the bar. Charlie feeling guilty for telling her father to get rid of all the alcohol

Husk being careful to give Adam mixers, preferably with real fruit muddles or puree

As the sessions continue Adam started to associate a little more managing to make conversation with husk and angel, them both managing to find common ground despite not knowing what’s actually going on in his head.

They were both like small anchors that kept Adam from drifting off into his thoughts, eventually Angel managed to convince Adam to join a session of Charlie’s friendship exercises. It was a simple one or at least Charlie thought it was, it was to have everyone say one good thing about everyone.

Adam was doing good, even managing to compliment Alastors cooking. However when he got to Charlie suddenly Adam started to back track, he tried to skip her but her and Lucifer were the only two.

The panic sets in. He had SO many good things to say about Charlie, but every one of them sounded like poison coming from his mouth.

He wanted to tell her how proud he was how she grew into a wonderful person, but he couldn’t, he didn’t deserve to. He abandoned her his baby she deserved to hate him he didn’t deserve this.

Charlie started to panic now, this wasn’t supposed to happen like this. If it wasn’t for angel dust getting Adam to focus on him and to give him another compliment she was sure Adam would have had a full blown panic attack.

The fact that Adam would panic when it came to her or her dad made her think it had something to do with the exterminations but she scratched that when she say Adam and Vaggie talking about music together. There was something going on.

Lucifer too thought the same as Charlie, neither of them knowing the first man as well as they thought

Adam just leaves the room after that. He can't do this. He gets another drink and just sits in the corner waiting to go home

Angel dust followed behind him, husk had given angel a couple of bottles of booze. He hoped it would help.

Adam had become accustomed to going to Angels room for some comfort it helped that fat nugget was a sweetie. And despite Adam it felt nice to hold the little pig and just imagine he was back in heaven, with Charlie before he had to give her up.

“So do you wanna talk about it?” Angel asked softly as Adam sat on the floor so fat nugget could crawl into his lap.

“If I do it’s cuz I’m not sober,” Adam sighed out and Angel waved a bottle in front of him

“That can be arranged”

Lucifer and Charlie had a pit growing in their stomachs Adam had been in hell for about a year and still wasn’t on talking terms with them aside from small talk every so often.

A part of Lucifer wanted to get closer to Adam, it had started after he heard Adam apologizing in his sleep. It had reminded him of when he fell with Lilith and how for years he would mumble apologizing to her whether he was asleep or awake. It took a long time for him to get out of that mindset and if he was being honest, the visits he and Adam made really helped. Though Lucifer knew better, he knew those moments between him and the first man were only driven by lust and nothing more. Or at least he thought that, it wasn’t until he was actually married to Lilith did it all come together, him and her they were perfect. Their relationship was amazing up until Charlie arrived on their doorstep, it was like a switch for Lilith. The woman had begun taking care of the girl though it wasn’t as motherly as Lucifer hoped. Maybe because Charlie wasn’t hers, or maybe because she just like Lucifer realized who’s baby the girl really was.

Lucifer knew Charlie was Adam’s, he hadn’t slept with anyone other than Adam and Lilith. It wasn’t like Eve to just leave a baby so it had to have been Adam’s, at first Lucifer was angry with the idea. However those thoughts were starting to shift now that he was living with Adam

Angel was at a lose for words as Adam was in a drunken fit, the man was going through all the emotions

“It was the first time since I entered heaven that I actually felt happy,” Adam gave a shaky smile as he looked at the bottle of alcohol “it fucking broke me to leave her here,” Adam sobbed again, “looking at her now all I want to do is tell her how proud I am,” he bit his lip “but in reality I should be fucking dead, I am horrible I don’t even deserve to live with Lucifer,”

Angel pulled Adam into a hug and just let Adam sob for a good while until Lucifer came to get him. However angel wasn’t about to just let Adam go with the king in fact Angel felt the need to say something or at least give the dumbass a hint. Since whatever Adam was doing was definitely not working for anyone

That’s what we had and honestly idk what to add lol 😂 sorry for the sudden dump

[talkethtothehandeth]

As much as I agree that people who have EDS shouldn’t talk over people who have worse disabilities than us, and as firmly as I believe that disabled people should let other disabled people speak about their struggles without comparing it to EDS, I need you to know that having EDS, especially my type— the one you find more often than other types, is not just “being bendy”.

I was diagnosed with EDS when I was a baby. I was very lucky, and was able to receive treatment (whether good or bad) quicker than others. However, EDS caused my hip dysplasia, it caused the condition that affected my mobility to the point where I needed three corrective hip surgeries; it was the cause of my bone not forming, I needed a bone donor to aid in correction. I have three long scars on my bikini line where Dr Caroll (from Shriner’s in Utah) cut into me in order to give me a better chance of having less limited mobility.

EDS isn’t just me being able to play bendy straw with my hands, it isn’t just me having to deal with “fake dislocations, it’s subluxations so it’s not that bad”. It caused my scoliosis, it caused my arthritis from my joints going out of place so often. I was diagnosed with osteoarthritis as a child, but as I got older, my arthritis spread to more places. I have burning nerve pain that makes me want to die, I have partial paralysis whenever my body decides to attack me spontaneously, I have dystonia, I have hearing loss, allergic reactions, and pain in every joint in my entire body. From head to toe, all of my joints, all of my muscles.

EDS is something that has severely impacted and negatively effected my entire body. It took everything from me, it took my already limited mobility, it took my peace, it took my mental health, it took my most beloved hobby ever— riding horses. I cannot sit to play piano, use my hands for my guitar, sit in a chair for more than 30 minutes without my back muscles screaming.

I took 14 pills every single day with multiple prescriptions because of what EDS has caused. I am undiagnosed with something that nearly killed me last year, everyone was preparing for me to die, and it has been dismissed by anxiety or an eating disorder, it is caused by my disease. EDS will affect me for the rest of my life.

EDS isn’t “just” being hyper mobile. This isn’t just a small disease that people go through, it is life altering and life compromising and life threatening from all of the comorbidities that come along with it; it is debilitating, it is isolating, it is pain that cannot be treated with even IV morphine, it is a constant, unrelenting acid rain condition just as many other physical disabilities.

People who have EDS shouldn’t try to play the Sick Olympics, we shouldn’t go to someone’s page and say “I’M JUST AS SICK AND DISABLED AS YOU ARE”. We should take the time to listen to people who have it worse, because so often they get ignored by abled people, they don’t need other disabled people to say that their conditions aren’t worse just because we have it bad. So many people are definitely more disabled than I am, and that absolutely does not erase my struggles.

Every physical disability affects the body in different ways, and every physical disability isn’t necessarily comparable to others. My degenerative arthritis isn’t the same as someone’s ankylosing spondylitis. My joints are fucked and my mobility has been significantly decreased as my disease has progressed. I am not going to compare my knees that will need to be replaced to someone whose spine is literally fusing together. Even though it’s a form of arthritis, it isn’t the same as mine and it isn’t my place to pretend it is.

But someone saying “it’s just hyper mobility” is perpetuating a harmful narrative, because people already don’t believe us, our stuff doesn’t show in labs and it only shows during further and extensive testing that many doctors don’t want to pursue because we’re “faking” or “being over dramatic”, because it isn’t “that bad”, it’s just bendy joints, it’s not debilitating./s It isn’t just being bendy, it is so much more and doesn’t need to be dismissed solely because it isn’t the same or as severe as someone else’s condition. Even if someone does have it worse, it doesn’t mean that EDS isn’t bad, and just because someone has EDS, it doesn’t mean it’s always comparable and needs to be shouted to the world on people’s posts about a completely different situation.

[drdemonprince]

I recently finished reading your book Unlearning Shame, and I absolutely loved it. I found the conceptual framework of Internalized Shame and your techniques for it so very helpful, especially when most ideas of mental health (anxiety and depression, trauma, etc.) have seemed insufficient and useless to me.

However, there was one thing that kind of bugged me the whole way through reading it. Your primary focus was the shame people face as part of marginalization, but often, this too felt insufficient for me. Like, I do face a lot of this flavor of shame: I'm an autistic trans woman, feeling like I'm cringey or childish or creepy or obscene or whatever are things that bug me daily, and restrict a lot of my freedom.

However, a lot of the shame I deal with stems from some kind of awful things I've done in the past, and this is perhaps the loneliest and most difficult kind of shame I deal with. To be fair, I think a lot of this has been very closely linked to my marginalization: people would interpret genuine mistakes of mine as signs I was some awful, manipulative predator, and quickly oust me from their friend groups as a result. If I had been an allistic cis man I would have faced far gentler behavior, or at least far more people would have justified the shit I did.

Regardless, very little in the book dealt with shame tied to guilt and wrongdoing. I remember there was mostly just this one tantalizing line about how even previous members of neonazi groups can benefit from speaking shame, but other than that, I didn't see much.

So my question here is, do you know how to deal with the shame of doing something really bad, and facing the consequences?

Thank you for asking, I'm glad you liked the book!

There are answers for you throughout the book, I think. Arguably, many of the examples of shame I outline involve feeling regret or shame over one's actions. People who do not recycle "enough" and feel profound shame and anxiety about it are people who have done something "wrong," in their minds. So are people who have repeated internalized transphobic/racist/fatphobic/etc messages to other people who share the same identities as them. These people's actions are systemically caused, and they are suffering from those same systemic forces that provoked them to take actions they feel bad about.

You aren't any more morally culpable than any of them, and you aren't qualitatively different from them -- even if you are likely telling yourself that what you did is so much "worse" and so much less justified.

You can find much of the advice that I apply to people who feel ashamed about an experience (a rape survivor, say), apply equally to you as someone who might have done something you view as "wrong." You can also look to the material in chapters 7 and 8 about finding grace and perspective for others who have done wrong to us, and apply much of that yourself. A person must be held in community before they can be held accountable, for example. Understanding the circumstances that contributed to your behavior is important, which it sounds like you've already done some work on, as is contemplating the needs you were attempting to meet with your actions, and the social supports you currently still need in order to move forward.

If someone has taken actions that go against even their own morals and they feel profoundly ashamed about it, I'd say they are generally still in a state of far-reaching systemic shame that goes far deeper and requires far more healing and support than just addressing the morality of their own actions. There's usually a lot of shame about one's identities, deprivation one is facing, fears of abandonment and attachment insecurities, and other major issues going on. Because a person wouldn't just violate their own moral precepts for no good reason.

No one wants to feel that they are a horrible person according to their own personal standards of goodness. A person's actions always make sense within their own context, and so when someone does something "wrong," either they have done something that they do not actually believe to be wrong, but fear societal judgement for, or they have been pushed to the brink by extreme distress, deprivation, abuse, indoctrination, political repression, exclusion, or likely a combination of those things.

I hope this is making sense. If you feel ashamed of something you have done, you need the exact same healing, safe vulnerability, social support, and trust as someone who is ashamed about something over which they have no control. There is no difference, you are no more deserving of that shame, and shame still will not prevent you from changing your behavior for the better. You can believe wholly that your actions in the past were wrong, and uphold your current values in the present, without deserving to feel any more shame about it.

[overtrred28]

Time Bomb | Criminal minds x fem!reader

Summary; Y/N’s mind is overworked and tired from case after case after case and the team begins to notice, prodding her until it gets too much. 

Parings; BAU team x BAU!reader, no romantic relationships mentioned. (she/her pronouns) 

Warnings; angst, mentions of chronic headaches/migraines, swearing, physical and emotional pain

Words; 1.7k

No one is permitted to steal, copy, or reblog my work as their own!!

Gif is not mine. @book-place​ 

It wasn’t unusual for Y/N to have a migraine, let alone a simple headache. She was diagnosed with atypical migraines when she was 15 and has been dealing with them since. But joining the  BAU 6 months ago really seemed to ramp things up for her. Since the day she left for that first case, the severity of her headaches increased, impacting her working abilities.  

She knew it wasn’t going to be an easy job, the commitments alone were tough but what was worse was trying to leave every painful detail of a case behind and move onto the next one, especially so quickly. She felt like she was doing work 24/7, whether she was on a plane flying across the country, stuck at her desk filing reports or thinking about cases when she got home. Everyone else on the team had been there for much longer than her so they had it down packed. But Y/N was still struggling, not that she would let anyone else figure that out. 

She became quite good at compartmentalising, hiding her emotions from her colleagues, family and friends. But all of this stress, tension and hurt came through in her migraines. Having suffered in pain for almost 10 years already, she was good at moving through the pain, pushing it aside, but lately it began bothering her more than ever, and the team began to notice. 

Derek was the first to pick up on her change in mood when she didn’t acknowledge his daily “Good Morning Firecracker”. Instead of her normal response, she flipped him the bird and kept walking to her desk in silence. He was quite insulted at her actions but took it as a bad morning. The other surrounding team members took note of this unusual behaviour from Y/N, all beginning to watch her closely. 

Reid noticed her mental distance during a case when it repeatedly took her 8 seconds longer than usual to answer a question or hear her name being called.

It was then Emily who tried to comfort her, but was brushed aside and ignored by Y/N. It happened yesterday, the team were in the office, working on files from the previous case and Emily noticed the younger team member had been silent all day. She watched with concern from her desk as Y/N held her head in her hands, rubbed her temples and took painkillers every few hours. As the day ended Emily approached Y/N, tapping her on the shoulder lightly to get her to raise her head off the desk. 

“What?” Y/N turned to Emily with tired eyes and an exhausted expression. 

“Sorry, I just wanted to check that you were okay? You’ve been quiet all day.” Emily removed her hand from Y/N’s shoulder. 

“I’m fine, Prentiss.” Y/N used Emily’s last name for the first time in months and it shocked everyone in the room. Y/N gathered her stuff and quickly left towards the elevators, brushing Emily’s shoulder on the way out. The whole team, including Rossi and Hotch who’d left their offices, stood in shock at the agent's actions. Something was definitely wrong. 

                                                    ~~~~~~

This morning Y/N slept in for the first time in weeks, and not on purpose. She had slept through three alarms and would officially be late for work, but it didn’t bother her. The pain pounding through her head was insufferable. It felt as if her skull was squishing her brain, waiting for it to explode. So she took her time getting ready, pausing every few minutes to sit and attempt to not pass out or throw up. Could she have just opted to take the day off? Yes. But she was too stubborn for that. 

She eventually made it to work, slowly making her way through the glass doors, now almost an hour late according to her watch. But when she finally looked up from the floor, no one was at their desks, or in the kitchen, or milling around the bullpen. It was silent. As much as she admired the peace and quiet, it was bugging her, where the hell was everyone else. Curiously she made her way up the stairs, peeking into Hotch and Rossi’s empty offices, then towards the conference room that suspiciously had the door closed and shades drawn.

She opened the door slowly, expecting to also find no one, but was wrong. The whole team was sitting at and standing around the table, previously talking lowly amongst themselves. 

“What the hell is going on? Why are you all in the fucking dark in silence? It’s weird.” Y/N’s voice caught the attention of her friends and boss, everyone staring at her with shock or concern plastered on their faces. 

“Come sit down Y/N.” Hotch finally spoke up, his hands crossed at his chest nodding his head to the empty chair in the centre of the table. 

“Fine.” Y/N snickered, moving slowly towards the chair. “What is this? An intervention?” Y/N laughed as she sat down in the chair, sliding down into a comfortable position. The room stayed silent. “Will someone please fucking say something!” She waved her hands in the air and looked to Emily, then Spencer then Derek. 

“Y/N.” Derek sighed, moving away from the window where he was previously leaning, catching the attention of Y/N. “We’ve all noticed some changes in your behaviour recently and we just wanted to see what was going on.” 

“Yeah.” Emily’s voice perked up from beside Y/N, moving to place her hand on top of the other agent’s. “We’re all worried for you, you haven’t been yourself. You get mad at the smallest of things, you’re constantly tired and falling asleep everywhere. Is there something you need to tell us? Are you-” Emily couldn’t even finish her sentence. 

Y/N shook her head in disbelief, they probably think I’m an alcoholic or drug user. Unbelievable. “Wow!” She laughed out, snatching her hand away from Emily’s. “Okay, so how about you guys take a guess at what’s wrong with me and I’ll tell you if you’re right.” Everyone’s jaw dropped at her outburst, not wanting to say anything to make it worse. “Hm. Go ahead. Or are you too scared?” Y/N stood up from her chair. 

“That’s enough Y/L/N.” Hotch sternly expressed to the agent, urging her to calm down. 

“No, Hotch. I’ve had enough! This is bullshit.” Y/N began walking towards the door behind her, only to be stopped by Derek. “Move.” She argued but he didn’t budge. “Stop it Derek, let me leave.” 

“No.” He uncrossed his arms, now softly holding her forearms. 

“Derek,” She was really frustrated now, tears began welling up in her eyes. “I swear to god.” She shook her head at him, her voice was breaking. The physical and emotional pain was getting too much. The pounding in her head  was so loud she thought her ear drums were going to burst. Derek saw her pain, swiftly moving to pull her into a tight hug, one that she didn’t reciprocate but also didn’t try to remove herself from. She broke down, for the first time in months she’d finally let go. She stood there, crying into Derek’s chest as he held her tight, protecting her, the room was quiet besides the sound of Y/N crying. 

This was the first time any of them had seen her cry in the 6 months of knowing her, not even after hard cases. They looked at each other, hearts breaking for their colleague and friend. After a moment she began to move and Derek’s grip on her loosened. She wiped her bare face and held her head down as she went to sit back down. “Talk to us honey.” JJ was now in the seat beside her, stroking her back lightly. 

She took a deep breath before she spoke again. “I have chronic migraines. I have since I was 15. And since working here, they’ve been worse than ever. Especially today.” She stopped, I sound so stupid, she thought to herself. Emily squeezed her shoulder encouraging her to keep going. Y/N sniffled, “I guess the heaviness of the cases, the workload, the stress has been getting to me a lot more recently. And don’t get me wrong, I love this job and you guys,” She lifted her head to look at her friends who were now all sitting or standing in front of her. “But sometimes it’s just too much and the emotional pain turns into physical which then turns into anger and a bad mood.” She looked back down at her hands, picking at her nails. 

“Well why didn’t you tell any of us you were struggling?” Rossi spoke kindly from across the table, meeting eyes with Y/N. 

Y/N’s mouth twists before speaking, trying to stop the tears. “I didn’t want to burden you. You guys have your own lives. And I’ve been dealing with it by myself for so long I thought I had it under control.” Her voice cracks at the end causing everyone’s hearts to shatter. How did they not see this earlier? They all thought to themselves. 

“Y/N, look at me.” Derek was now behind her, she looked up behind her shoulder. “You are not a burden. You are an incredible and important asset to this team and this family. That’s what we are.” He smiled down at her. 

“And that means that we’re always here for each other, good or bad.” Penelope’s sweet voice spoke next from further down the table. “Okay?” She asks when Y/N looks like she doesn’t believe her. 

She stayed silent for a while, thinking about their words. Slowly she began nodding her head, careful not to increase the pain. “Okay.” She smiled at her team. 

“How about you go sleep off the pain in my office for a bit?” Rossi offered, she almost rejected because she didn’t want to let them down but Rossi continued before she could open her mouth. “Just until we get a case, okay?” He hoped that would do the trick, and it did.

“Thank you.” She sniffled. “And I’m sorry for how rude I’ve been, it wasn’t intentional I promise.” She looked specifically at Emily and Derek who had received the brutal end of her outbursts. 

So now the team was fixed once again, now knowing how to help Y/N on her good and bad days.

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

[buckrecs]

Do you have Bucky cheating fics ??

Cheating

masterlist | req masterlist

Some of them are bucky cheating on reader and some are bucky cheating with reader .. because the former hurts too much

ONESHOT

Like Nicotine by @babyboibucky

You and Bucky broke up but he keeps on crawling back to you.

But It’s Better If You Do by @ohbuckie

Bucky finds out you're pregnant while deployed in Germany

Petty by @mirkysconcubinefiction

The Affair doesn't surprise you. Bucky pointing a gun at you didn't scare you, him threatening to shoot you didn't make you flinch. He crossed a line and you run, cutting ties with your ex, baby, everything you had built over the past decade. Desperate you call an old friend and hope they can help...

Happiness and Heartbreak by @lokiandbuckysdoll

You’re willing to break your own heart if it means Bucky will finally find happiness even if it’s not with you.

Fire and Gasoline by @wicked-mind

Break-ups are hard. Especially when the cause of the break-up is the man of your dreams cheating on you. But what’s even worse… You both still love each other.

Just one night by @buckylattes

You find out your fiancé is cheating.

Stay by @flordeamatista

How many times do you stay for him?

Consequent Circumstances by @writingcroissant

You never intended to cheat, never intended to break someone's heart in such an unfair manner - but it happened, and now you and Bucky have to deal with unexpected consequences, some quite happy news following along with some that happen to shatter your heart into a million pieces.

blurb by @mavsstar

You couldn't focus at all during work, not after the fight you had with Bucky last night.

Holy Union by @qyllenhaal

With his marriage on the rocks, Bucky finds comfort in his younger neighbor.

Excuses by @venusstorm

You and Bucky are just friends right? Right…?

Cause You’re Just A Man by @multiverse-sparkles

to the world, mrs. barnes had played her cards well and landed herself a doting, rich and handsome husband who was madly inlove with her. behind closed doors, she shoulders the weight of his constant infidelity and questions, why was she not enough?

a message that seals your fate by @barnesafterglow

what do you call a love letter that leads to heartbreak

From Past to Future by @fatecantstopme

After you and Bucky break up, you end up engaged to Steve. What happens when Bucky come back into your life two years later?

deadly nightshade by @kinanabinks

the brightest berries are oft the most poisonous. why do the ones we can't have look like they'll taste so much sweeter?

SERIES

Take It Back by @allandoflimbo

About five years ago, a one night stand with Y/N tore Bucky’s life apart. It was also the night before his wedding. Now he’s married to her sister and she needs a place to stay.

something borrowed by @buckys-darling

You’ve been in love with Bucky Barnes for as long as you can remember. Small problem, though: he’s engaged to your best friend. So why not sleep with his?

If Only You Were Mine… by @bbgem329

You’ve been in love with Bucky Barnes since the moment you laid eyes on him. That was five years ago, when your older sister brought him home for a Sunday lunch and introduced him as her boyfriend.

Wicked Games by @summerofsnowflakes

You need to give him up, but it’s just too good to stop.

clandestine by @bucksfucks

you have it all— the nice car, the huge house, and the cheating husband. now all you need is a way out.

Ask for a Rec <3

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[farfromstrange]

Hey can I make a Matt Murdock request. It's Matt and reader's wedding day, and Matt remembers how you met in st. Agnes , the little adventures you had and how sister Maggie caught you trying to sneak out which sometimes worked out

I want to apologize for taking so long to write this! I'm so sorry. I just spent the past four hours pouring my whole soul into this because this request was just so beautiful... Like seriously, I have tears in my eyes. I listened to a lot of love songs while writing this, and I hope I could match up with your expectations. Thank you for your request and enjoy! <3

You Are The Best Thing That's Ever Been Mine | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: On the day of your wedding, Matt thinks back to your time together at the orphanage.

Warnings: None. Tooth-rotting fluff. (not proofread though)

Word Count: ~6.8k (oops)

The church bells play an all too familiar tune. It echoes off the high walls that are adorned with colorful paintings and stone sculptures that are as old as time. Clinton Church stands taller than he is, but he doesn’t feel suffocated by it, not today.

Matt Murdock grew up on religion and has lived by his faith in God ever since. He fell into several dark holes over time, but he crawled out of them and he picked himself up again. He played this tiring game for a while. He never felt like he truly belonged anywhere. He was lost. And then you stepped back into his life.

After his father died and he was taken in by the St. Agnes orphanage in Hell’s Kitchen, Matt had more than just his grief to deal with. The accident that blinded him a year prior turned his life upside down and no one knew.

His father knew he was blind, of course, but no one knew about how he could suddenly smell or hear much better than before, and that it was worse than the usual enhancement of one’s senses after becoming blind. His senses became heightened to the point he could pick up everything around him with his ears, nose, and hands alone.

It has been the most exhausting experience, especially as a little boy, he thought about giving up many times because it confused him and it made him bitter, and then his father died and the only person he could trust was gone, too.

He felt so utterly alone, he had nightmares, he was traumatized and the children at the orphanage didn’t like him much, either. He was a broken boy, and he had no one to turn to but the sisters taking care of him. But after a while, even that support stopped when more children arrived, and he chose to fight this battle on his own. He didn’t want to bother anyone. He was lonely, but he accepted that he just wasn’t that important and that sometimes, life goes a certain way.

Matt told himself God blinded him for a reason. He tried to find a purpose in his heightened senses and whatever else came with the accident and his father’s wrongful death, but with each passing day in this small bedroom with the church bells ringing in the background, causing his head to spin with their audacity, he lost more and more of the hope he swore himself he would keep. He wasn’t just alone, he adopted this feeling of loneliness and ran with it, turning more and more into an outsider. But he also had nothing to show for himself as the other kids did. He was blind, he was different, and that was never appreciated.

One day though, after spending most of his time hiding away in a corner, listening to the people around him and judging them in his own way, a set of small footsteps approached where he was sitting in the garden behind the orphanage.

He remembers the way your dress brushed against your tights, a sound he found annoying and painful at first, but he quickly got used to it. He remembers how you walked up to him with almost determined steps after Sister Maggie showed you the way and dropped you there for you to explore. He remembers your little sigh when you realized how far away he was from the other kids, but you didn’t turn around and leave when you noticed his black-rimmed glasses or the cane next to him.

You stopped in front of him, and Matt did not once forget the sound of your voice when you first spoke to him, “Is this seat taken?” he remembers you asking, and you sounded a lot nicer than the other children.

He frowned, at first, because he wasn’t used to being talked to. He figured you must be playing with him. But you didn’t stop there.

You chose to sit down next to him, and you smiled when you said, “I like your glasses, by the way.”

He remembers turning his head in your direction, signaling he was listening. You took that as an invitation to introduce yourself. Your name rolled beautifully off your tongue, and he stored it away instantly, along with the sound of your voice.

“I’m Matt,” he chose to tell you.

You smiled even brighter and took his hand, shaking it. “Nice to meet you, Matt,” you said.

Eight years, that’s how long you stayed. And during those eight years, you became inseparable. He confided in you about his heightened senses, and when Stick came around and left as fast as he had appeared, you were the one who picked up his broken pieces.

The first field trip you took together was to Central Park. The sun was shining brightly that day. Sister Maggie and some of the other nuns accompanied your group, and you quickly found your spot next to Matt. It was the first time he wasn't stuck with an adult during a day out, and he was so flustered, he remembers forgetting his words when your cheery nature found a place next to him.

Your heart has always been a steady sound in his ear, and back then, it grounded him whenever he had to face situations that made him uneasy. Field trips held so many different sensations that overwhelmed him, and he often felt as if his disability wasn't taken very seriously, but with you by his side, he could actually feel the sun on his skin rather than the heavy lump in his throat. He didn't want to cry on the way there; he listened to the beautiful sound of your voice, your laughter, and your excitement both infectious enough to make him smile, and it's something he swore he would always cherish. You had a talent, and he was the only one you used it on.

“Hey,” he remembers you saying when he was hiding away at the back of the group once again. You reached out to gently take his hand. “Don't worry, I'll be your guide today,” you said.

It wasn't pity, you actually enjoyed doing this for him. Even though it was hot outside, he ignored the sweat simply to hold your hand.

“What if…I get lost?” he remembers asking you, and you laughed at that-

You squeezed his hand reassuringly. “I've got you. Trust me.”

As you strolled through the park, you described everything you saw. You walked him through it the way you saw it, and he imagined how the world looked like through your eyes.

“The sky is so blue, Matt,” you said, pointing upward. “It stretches out like an endless canvas. And the clouds are little white specks of color that take different shapes wherever you look.”

Matt tilted his head, a small smile gracing his lips. “I wish I could see it.” It was the first time he actively admitted it to you, and your heart broke a little.

“But you can feel it,” you instantly tried to make him feel better. “The warmth of the sun on your skin, the gentle breeze ruffling your hair. You can smell the flowers. It's all there. Sight is so overrated, anyway.”

He stored your advice for another day, knowing that you weren't wrong. Next, you stopped near a bed of colorful flowers. You crouched down and reached out, picking one. The scent seemed familiar.

“Close your eyes and breathe in,” you instructed, holding the flower near his nose.

Matt followed your guidance, inhaling the sweet scent. “It's… it's beautiful,” he said.

“You see, Matt,” you said, “Beauty isn't just in what we see. It's in the little things we discover along the way.”

For someone who lost so much, you were a true optimist. You breathed fresh air into his life.

With each step, you continued to describe the vibrant colors, the rustling leaves, and the laughter of children in the distance. Matt's trust in you grew, and he found solace in the world you painted for him.

Of course, he could hear, smell and feel everything down to the smallest detail, but the way you described it was so different from the picture he had painted before, and he let you change his perspective. Your view of the world was much more beautiful than his, and he rather lived in a fairytale than take everything too seriously. With you, he could be himself. That was the first day he came to that realization, and his loneliness slowly started to die out.

That day, as you explored the park hand in hand, Matt realized that his blindness didn't define him. With you by his side, he discovered a newfound appreciation for the world and the beauty that could be found in even the smallest details.

The months passed by and turned into years, and you grew closer as friends. During the times you were allowed to play together, you never left each other’s sides, much to some of the nuns’ dismay, but Sister Maggie was the one who encouraged Matt to tie himself to you so he wouldn’t be as alone, and he gladly did it every time. She saw something in you that he could feel with every one of your fleeting touches and the sound of your voice, and your friendship became a lifeline he kept holding onto. But he was yours, too, which you told him many times before, and he told you he would be more than happy to show you the world through his senses. He made you feel seen and appreciated in a way no one has before, a job he took seriously enough to somehow take permanent residency in your life–but you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

The summer sun beat down on the small group of children from the orphanage as you made your way to a nearby lake. Sister Maggie never struggled to control the group and she was one of the nicer sisters who allowed you to do silly things others didn't, so you often used that to your advantage.

Being friends with Matt for three years, you gradually figured out who he is, and in return, you revealed parts of yourself. You were the duo most kids feared, which was one of the reasons why the boys stopped picking on him, and the girls had never even dared to say a bad thing about you. Still, you were the weird outcasts who always hung out together; you both prided yourself on that title and often made fun of it.

Laughter filled the air as you excitedly chatted about the day's adventure. Matt walked beside you, his cane tapping gently on the ground. His other hand rested on your arm. He didn't need it, he once admitted to you, but he still felt safer and more grounded, knowing he could hold onto someone in case something happened.

As you approached the shimmering lake, you couldn't help but notice Matt's hesitance. You turned to him with a mischievous grin.

“Hey, Matt,” you said, nudging his arm playfully. “Remember the promise we made when we were little? That we'd jump in a lake together someday?”

Matt's lips curled into a shy smile. “Yeah, I remember. But… I can't swim,” he said. “What if something goes wrong?”

You patted his back reassuringly. “You're not alone, are you?”

With newfound determination, Matt nodded, placing his trust in you once again. The cool breeze kissed your cheeks as you waded into the lake, the water lapping at your feet.

You turned to Matt, splashing water playfully. “Come on, Matt! The water feels amazing!”

He remembers the goosebumps on his skin, the eagerness in your voice. His uncertainty melted away when you reached out to help him inside somewhere he could stand, and he felt a little less scared about his ability to control the setting. With hesitant steps, he followed you, the soft sand beneath his feet giving way to gentle ripples in the water.

As you both ventured deeper, you guided Matt's hand to your shoulder, urging him to relax and float. “Just trust me,” you said.

Little did you know that he trusted you with his life already.

He took a deep breath, his body relaxing as he felt the water supporting him. A surge of joy filled your heart as you watched his confidence grow. You took his other hand, spinning in the water together, laughter echoing across the lake. He might have been standing on the sandy ground of the lake, but it still reminded him of the times his father took him to the pool. Sharing this moment with you felt… different, but in a good way, and he slowly started to warm up to the idea of enjoying a day in the water. You were always careful with him, and he knew you would never let him drown.

Time seemed to stand still. The world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you and the tranquility of the lake. The other children moved into the background, and Sister Maggie's pleas for you to be careful or even better, get out, met deaf ears as you got lost in each other's eyes. You were only twelve then, but it was like that day changed a lot in the way he felt about you, which is why he remembers that day vividly, still. You made him feel so alive that day, and it's a feeling he still gets whenever he looks into your beautiful eyes.

Matt's voice broke the peaceful silence, barely above a whisper. He said your name softly, something that always managed to make you smile. “This feels… it feels like a dream,” he said.

The warmth of the sun on your face mirrored the warmth in your heart. “No, Matt, this is real,” you told him. “This is our moment. And it's ours to keep.”

As you floated side by side, surrounded by the serenity of the lake, you both realized that this connection, this friendship, was something precious and unbreakable. Life without you seemed like an impossibility to him.

One month turned into twenty-four. You were teenagers, he remembers when your mischief took on a new size. You would appear in front of his door at random hours of the night, tapping on his door three times, before leaning against the wall. He would put on his shoes and grab his cane before making his way outside.

The first time it happened, he hissed at you, “Are you insane?! What if we get caught? Sister Maggie would ground us for the rest of our lives! Oh God–”

You cut him off with a giggle and told him, “We only live once, Matthew, and I am tired of spending every last minute of my life in this place. I wanna live! Please, just trust me. I have a plan.”

And from there on, you would sneak out any other night. You always found spots in nature for you to sit down and talk without people around. You shared stories, laughed, and cried together, and it worked as glue. You became even more inseparable.

Sometimes, you would take him to the lake, sit down with him and describe the night sky to him. You would point out constellations, tell him the meaning behind them and fantasize about life beyond what you could see. He was quick to dispute it because there could only be one God, so there couldn’t be any other universes out there, and once again you only laughed.

You both had a different take on religion; he’s always considered you a dreamer, and you never changed, which he found endearing because you believed in what you wanted to believe in, always. And you made sure you always got what you wanted.

You always snuck past Sister Maggie’s room and made it back in time. It worked almost always, except for the days when someone else was in charge of supervising you, and then you would have to wait until everyone was asleep to tap a steady rhythm against the thin wall of your dormitory.

The sole reason you learned Morse code was to communicate with Matt, knowing he could hear you wherever. In a time before everyone had a cell phone, it was your way of staying in contact.

A few more years passed. You both started maturing, growing up, and going through changes. Life became harder, but you stayed together. Your friendship blossomed, you continued to sneak out, and the one-time Sister Maggie caught you, she simply rolled her eyes and sent you back to your rooms.

That one pivotal night though when you were both sixteen and carefree, the night shimmered with an air of excitement as you sat by the peaceful lake by the orphanage, engrossed in Matt's animated storytelling. His voice had dropped sometime over the past year and it was a sound that would always send shivers down your spine.

He was full of enthusiasm as he shared the details of his latest discovery while he was doing research for a school presentation. You found yourself focused on his hands and his lips rather than the story, and the sound of his voice sent shivers down your spine. When you looked into his eyes, his glasses long discarded, you seemed to realize something, and the silence from your end alarmed your friend.

Amidst the excitement in his voice, a new realization took hold. Matt was more than just your best friend; an undeniable connection went beyond friendship.

Caught amid this realization, you found yourself lost in the features of his face, your mind spinning. Matt's voice trailed off, and he noticed your gaze fixed on him, a puzzled expression crossing his face.

“What's wrong?” he asked. “Is there something on my face?”

Your mind raced to catch up with your feelings. Without uttering a word, you leaned forward, closing the distance between you, and pressed your lips against his. It was a spontaneous and slightly awkward first kiss, but Matt remembers every last second of it.

For a moment, the world paused, and you both froze, the realization of what had just happened sinking in. Uncertainty hung in the air, but then Matt's hand gently cupped your cheek, his touch gentle and comforting. He traced your features, and they were so vulnerable and delicate that night.

He remembers swallowing, the panic that sent the blood rushing to his cheeks, and the strange change in the rhythm of your beating heart. “I, uh…” Matt tried to find the right words, but his mind was blank. Your lips left a tingling sensation on his own, and he somehow couldn't comprehend what was happening to his body. It was confusing. “That was… unexpected,” he said.

You felt mixed emotions swirling within you, but the desire to explore this newfound connection outweighed any awkwardness. Without hesitation, you leaned back in and kissed him again, this time more confidently, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment.

The awkwardness quickly melted away when Matt finally realized what he wanted, too. Your lips moved in harmony, exploring the tender and unfamiliar territory you found yourselves on.

The touch of Matt's lips against yours sent electric currents through your veins, and the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you.

Eventually, you pulled away, breathless and wide-eyed.

“I… I don't know what to say,” he confessed.

You smiled at him. “Do we need to say anything?” you retorted.

Matt remembers the exact moment he realized that he fell fast and hard for you; it wasn't the kiss that proved his feelings for you, it was what happened after. You looked at him, brushed a strand of hair out of his face, and told him, “You're beautiful, Matthew. Inside and out.”

And that was the moment he first knew he loved you more than just a best friend. He would have walked through fire for you, and it was never a doubt in his mind. The realization hit him hard, but he somehow never questioned it. He realized he loved you, and from that moment on, he rolled with it.

Matt remembers that he only acted after hearing you say those words. He told you, “Says the most beautiful girl in this godforsaken place.”

He gently pulled you back into his embrace, his lips finding yours once more. You couldn't even berate him for the blasphemy because he was right, and you smiled against his lips; this was the day you both finally found a home.

A few years had passed since that fateful night by the lake, and your bond with Matt grew stronger.

On this particular night, you found yourselves drawn to the library. The quiet stillness of the space provided a temporary escape.

As you settled into a hidden corner, the soft glow of the moon filtered through the window. You found solace in each other's arms, curled into a corner on the window sill. Matt's arms were wrapped around you and he held you as tightly as he could.

His lips ghosted over yours and you kissed back. He sighed into your mouth, his large hand on your cheek holding you right there. “I wish I could stay with you,” you murmured.

He nuzzled his nose against yours. “You know that's not a good idea,” he said.

“Why though?”

“For one, we'd get caught and two,” his hand stopped at your neck, feeling your pulse jump and he sighed, “I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off of you.”

Your cheeks flushed a bright red, and just as you're about to kiss him again (damn his silver tongue), he stops you with the same hand that's on your throat. “Sister Maggie,” he said.

Your heart skipped a beat as you turned to see Sister Maggie standing at the entrance of the library, her expression a mix of surprise, disappointment, and disapproval. The realization of the rules you were breaking washed over you.

You shot up into a sitting position and Matt followed suit. You had never been so ashamed in your entire life.

Sister Maggie's eyes flitted between you and Matt. The disapproving silence hung heavy in the air before she finally spoke.

“You two,” she said. “What on earth are you doing?”

“We, um…” You bit your lip. “We weren't doing anything, I promise!”

Matt quickly adjusted his shirt and agreed, “We're so sorry, sister.”

He remembers faintly how she lifted her finger. “I expected better from the two of you,” she continued. “As young adults, you should understand the importance of adhering to the rules and maintaining appropriate behavior within these walls. And in front of God? I taught you better than that! Up, both of you!”

Neither of you hesitated to get off the window sill. She approached you both. “Now, I suggest you both leave this library immediately and return to your rooms. There will be no further discussions about this matter.”

Her words cut deep, but you tended to forget where you were living sometimes. You exchanged a glance.

“You're lucky it was me who found you,” she said. “Now go! I don't want to see either of you wandering these walls at night ever again, are we clear?”

You nodded wildly. While you said, “Yes, Sister Maggie,” Matt found himself at a loss for words.

Without uttering another word, you followed Sister Maggie's order, slowly making your way out of the library. Each step felt like a punishment, he remembers.

Her actions had made it clear that the boundaries between friendship and romance were not to be crossed within the confines of the orphanage. You had to live with that.

Though once you were out of her earshot, your giggles filled the hallway, and Matt pinched your arm. “It's not funny,” he whispered.

You couldn't help but giggle again. He's always loved how you could laugh about everything. “I know, I know,” you said to him, trying to stifle your laughter. “But the look on Sister Maggie's face… I can't help it.”

Matt shook his head. “You're going to get us into even more trouble if you don't stop.”

You sobered up, realizing the truth in his words, and you both fell into a comfortable silence as you walked back to your rooms. The echoes of Sister Maggie's disapproval still lingered, a reminder of the boundaries that governed your lives.

As you reached the hallway that led to your respective rooms, you paused, facing each other. The dim light from the hallway cast soft shadows on your faces. You longed for him. Just one night with him would have fixed both of your sleep habits and it would have done you good, but you knew you had to part ways. It hurt, but it was a reality you came to live with.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered again. “I didn't mean to get us into trouble.”

Matt's expression softened as he reached out to gently touch your cheek. He made sure no one was around so he could touch you one last time, at least. “It's not entirely your fault,” he said. “We both got carried away.”

You nodded. “We should be more careful. We don't want to risk getting separated, do we?”

Never, he remembers thinking. Getting separated had sounded like torture then. “You're right,” he agreed. “We'll have to be more cautious from now on. It's not worth putting our future at risk.”

A mixture of disappointment and longing settled in your heart as you prepared to part ways for the night.

You hoped your relationship could survive this.

With a lingering touch, you both turned and retreated to your respective rooms, the weight of the night's events etching themselves into your memories.

You both knew the boundaries were in place for a reason and though it pained you, you were willing to respect them. You had to. You grew up there. The stolen moments and the unspoken promises would have to find solace in the hidden corners of your hearts until the time was right to let them flourish fully. At least that was what you told yourselves for the following 365 days.

When you turned eighteen and finished school, everything changed. Matt remembers that day as trauma, and maybe it partly was.

One day, as you returned from school, Sister Margaret approached you with a warm smile, handing you an envelope.

“Congratulations, dear,” she said. “A letter from Stanford arrived for you today.”

You froze.

Entering your room, you found Matt sitting on your bed, his head turning toward you as you entered. He sensed the strange weight in your hands, the unshed tears in your eyes, and his smile faded. “What's in your hands?” he asked.

You took a deep breath, summoning the courage to speak. Your heart dropped, he could hear it. And that was when you told him, “It’s a letter from Stanford.”

Silence hung in the air as Matt absorbed your words. This wasn't what you had planned together, and his world seemed to stop right then and there.

“Why didn't you tell me you applied?” Matt's voice held a touch of hurt.

Your heart sank, knowing that this was a conversation you couldn't avoid. “I didn't know how to bring it up,” you admitted. “I was scared… scared of what it would mean for us.”

His brows furrowed. “What does it mean for us? Are you planning to leave? We said we’d go to Columbia, why–Is this no longer something you want? Us? You and me, going to college together?”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you rushed to explain, “No, Matt, it's not like that! I love you, and I want to be with you. But Stanford… it's an opportunity I've always dreamed of. I don't want to live with regrets if I don't even try. It's… it's a full-ride scholarship, Matty. It's not just an acceptance letter, it's an offer.”

He was happy for you, and in hindsight, he should have reacted differently, but he was so hurt. He looked away, his fingers gripping the edge of the bed. “But what about us?” he asked. “What about the plans we made? We made all these plans for the future…”

Unshed tears glisten in his unfocused eyes, and he could tell it broke you just the same to tell him.

“I don't want to lose you, Matt,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The letter weighed heavy in your hands. “But I also can't ignore my dreams.”

“I won't ask you to give up your dreams for me. You know I wouldn't, but… I can't help feeling like you're just going down a path so far from mine, and… it scares me.”

The room filled with a heavy silence. The realization that a difficult decision lay ahead threatened to tear at the fabric of your love. You were so young, so naive, but you have always known just exactly what you wanted.

“I don't want to lose you,” you whispered, repeating your previous sentiment. “Maybe… maybe we can make it work, despite the distance.” Your eyes lit up, but the hope felt tainted. “We can try, right? We can promise to support each other and keep our love alive, even if we're apart.”

Matt's gaze softened. “I want to believe that,” he said, “but it won't be easy. We'll have to fight against the odds. Are we strong enough for that?”

“We'll never know if we don't try,” you said. “We owe it to ourselves to give it a chance.”

He took a deep breath, then opened his arms for you as so often and held you as you cried, not sure if out of sadness or excitement, but that stupid letter to Stanford was bound to change everything.

When you moved away to college, leaving New York and Matt behind, the contact you promised to keep up faded eventually. He got into law school, you made a living for yourself, your calls eventually stopped, no more letters or gifts, and after one particularly rough night of partying, that was it. You ended it.

Eight years washed down the drain because life has funny ways of breaking people apart. At first, Matt was sad, but he learned to move on and eventually became a lawyer, found friends, and moved on the same way you seemed to have done all those years ago.

But there came a time when he least expected it, and you promptly bumped into him in a courthouse in Hell’s Kitchen. Matt recognized you almost instantly from the sound of your voice alone, and even though he grew up and aged like fine wine, you called his name the second you looked into his red glasses.

As you locked eyes, the memories of your past came rushing back for both of you. It was pouring rain outside. Your hair stuck to your face as so did his, but he was still the same Matt from before, only older, and you also hadn't changed much.

“Matt?” you whispered in disbelief.

A flicker of recognition crossed his face, his hand resting on your arm. “Is it really you?” he asked after calling your name.

A bittersweet smile graced your lips as you nodded. “It's me,” you replied softly. “I never thought I'd see you again. How- how have you been?”

He told you about his practice, he remembers, and you listened closely. You told him you were proud of him and then you told him about med school and how you were a resident now, but a slot opened up in Hell's Kitchen for a fellowship and you chose to move again. It was fate, almost.

His gaze softened as he listened to your breathing, feeling your soft skin under his fingertips, and the feelings he had pushed down for so long resurfaced. “I thought about you often,” he remembers dropping on you the second he caught his breath again

“I'm sorry,” you whispered back to him. “I let life get in the way, and I let go of something so special. I will never forgive myself for how we ended. I… we… I cared about you, Matthew. It wasn't just some stupid childhood fling for me.”

Matt's hand reached out, his fingers gently brushing against yours. “We both made mistakes. We should have worked harder, it's not…You're not the only one who fucked up, so…”

You licked your lips. “We were too young,” you said.

“Yeah,” he instantly agreed without missing a beat, “We were. And a little dumb, maybe.”

You chuckled, tears welling up in your eyes as you looked into his eyes. “I've missed you,” you confessed. “I've missed us.”

“I've missed you too. Us. But especially you.”

The courthouse buzzed with activity around you, the hustle and bustle of lawyers, judges, and clients filling the air. But at that moment, it felt as if time stood still, and it was just the two of you. It reminded you of your childhood when you would spend time at the water together, whispering hushed promises underneath the night sky.

“Let's start over,” you suggested. And then you reintroduced yourself, telling him your name with that wonderful smile of yours, and he was enchanted all over again.

A smile tugged at the corners of Matt's lips, too, as he reached out to take your hand. “Matt Murdock,” he said. “Nice meeting you.”

That was the day everything changed. To think that day lies three years in the past now is something he still hasn’t wrapped his mind around, but fate brought you back together, and after months of pining and him hiding who he truly is to no avail, you finally took the first step.

You accepted that he is Daredevil without second-guessing or being mad at him. You walked through hell with him and you came out on the other side stronger than before, and Matt realized soon enough that he could never love someone as much as he loves you.

And on a beautiful Saturday in June, he asked you to marry him at the same lake you used to hide out as kids. You said yes, of course. He feared for a moment you wouldn’t, but you jumped into his arms as soon as he got on his knees, and the deal was sealed.

Matt can’t see, that is no secret. He thought it might ruin your wedding experience, but you reassured him you didn’t care about whether or not his eyes fell out of his head when you would walk down the aisle. He wishes he could see you in your dress, but he has made peace with the fact he couldn’t.

As he’s standing in the small room hidden away in Clinton Church now, nervously fiddling with the flower stuck to his suit jacket, he can’t help but recall all the little moments you shared while you were growing up, and how fate brought you back together when you both needed it the most. You picked each other up, and you saved each other’s lives.

You asked one of your bridesmaids to tell him to wait right there, and he has been standing there, looking out of the window at the small lake in the distance for a while now. He wonders what you’re doing, but Foggy told him to be patient, so he tries to swallow his curiosity and waits some more.

He never thought he would get married, but he remembers thinking one night as a boy that if he ever got married, he would only get married to you.

As the anticipation builds up, Matt's heart races with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. He can hear the distant sound of footsteps approaching, followed by your heartbeat. You smell like flowers and vanilla, and the fabric brushing against your legs sounds soft, almost like his silk sheets.

The door to the small room creaks open, finally, and he holds his breath, bracing himself for the sight he would never be able to see. And then, there you are, standing at the doorway. Your dress, carefully chosen and adorned, flows elegantly around you. It's silk with lace adorning the top, but you made sure that it would feel nice to him and look good on you, still.

Matt's senses heighten when you enter, capturing every detail he can possibly perceive. Most of all though, he memorizes your heartbeat once again and takes a good whiff of the beautiful scent you carry with yourself. You are one hundred percent yourself and he has never been more in love.

Today, you don't have to sneak around or hide away, even though it still feels like it, in this room secluded from everyone else, and his heart races faster when he thinks about how full circle this moment feels.

You take a step closer, your footsteps soft against the floor. You're wearing heels, but you seem to walk comfortably in them. Matt's heart skips a beat when he hears your voice. "Matthew," you breathe. "I'm here."

With a gentle smile, you extend your hand. Matt reaches out, intertwining your fingers. You close in on him until you're right in front of him, and he blinks as if he can't believe it. You remove his glasses, tears already forming in his eyes from how many emotions crash into him, but you don't feel much better. Seeing his brown eyes search yours, you swallow the lump in your throat, and you try not to start sobbing right then and there.

Your pulse jumps under his fingers; he chuckles because it seems ironic that you're more nervous than him, so beautiful and innocent. You're his everything, his world, the reason he's still alive, and he can never repay you for all you've done for him.

His fingertips graze the delicate fabric of your dress. He traces the intricate patterns, feeling the smoothness and intricacy, the silk and the lace. You guide him a little, building up his confidence. He feels the slit that runs down your leg, the garter belt you're wearing, and he swears he might puke. Your face is next, and with that, he takes his sweet time. You close your eyes and let him explore. He cradles you so delicately, almost as if you're a porcelain doll.

His breath shudders. "Fuck," he murmurs. The reality of the moment hits him. The first tear escapes his left eye. He never thought he would have the opportunity to experience something like this, and now he is experiencing it with you, the love of his life. It feels so surreal, he can't breathe.

His voice quivers as he speaks. "You're breathtaking," he says. "I can't even…Jesus, you're amazing."

You choke up too, your lips curling up into a smile. "Don't make me cry," you retort. "You're gonna ruin my makeup, Prince Charming."

He joins in, his hand remaining on your cheek as he takes in the person that you are through his other senses. You feel so much closer like this. You're his and he is yours, forever.

You step closer. Matt's arms envelop you in a warm embrace, holding you tightly against his chest. He always knows what you want, what you need, and he is more than willing to give it to you unconditionally.

"I love you," Matt whispers into your ear. "I've loved you since we were kids, and I'll love you until the end of time."

You swallow the tears that threaten to fall. "I love you too. With every beat of my heart. I fell in love with you the second I saw you sitting there all alone," you say. "You're never getting rid of me."

He chuckles. "Oh, sweetheart, that's the reason we're here today in the first place. You don't get one without the other." Matt brushes a loose strand of hair out of your face. "You're mine and I'm yours. Always and forever. I promise."

Just as you are starting to get lost in each other's eyes, the door creaks open, and Foggy's voice breaks the moment. "Am I interrupting something here, lovebirds?" he chirps.

You turn to see Foggy standing at the doorway, a playful smirk on his face. Matt releases you from his embrace, and the two of you share a sheepish smile.

"Not at all, Foggy," you reply, wiping away the remnants of your tears. "We were just having a moment."

Foggy chuckles. "Well, don't get too caught up in the moment. Remember, Matt, you can't kiss the bridge until the ceremony. That's what you told me to tell you," he says. "So, take a step back."

Matt rolls his eyes but follows his instructions. "Better?"

Foggy shakes his head. "Further."

"You want me to wait outside? You know this is my bride, right? And I can't even see her."

You laugh. Turning to your husband-to-be, you gently tug at his arm. "Guess you'll have to contain ourselves until then," you say.

“How will I ever manage that?” Matt retorts. “I only waited over a decade to get you back.” Followed directly by a dramatic sigh.

“Exactly,” you and Foggy say at the same time.

You glance at Matt, a silent understanding passing between you. You faced so much together, hand in hand, and this moment would be no different. You’ve never been big on traditions, anyway.

You turn back to Foggy. "We're ready,” you tell him. “And we've decided to walk down the aisle together.”

Foggy's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but a smile quickly spreads across his face. "Well, I'll be damned!" he quips. "Leave it to you two to make things even more unique. Less work for me, I suppose. Let's get this show on the road then."

And as you take those first steps together, Matt realizes that you chatting him up all those years ago at St. Agnes was just the beginning of your story.

Matt Murdock Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @lina-mar @itwasthereaminuteago @mattkinsella @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal

[lets-try-some-writing]

I love your hc in which Op got attached to the tfp!kids to the point that he sees them as his own sparklings (besides Bee).

Imagine that because of some weird relic the kids get turned into sparklings. They are adorable as they are little hellions, and the moment Op sees them, its game over

His coding already grabbed them from their metaphorical scruff and went "Don't talk to me or my three, very weird but MINE still, new sparklings ever again or I shall tear your face off. Have a good day" while they were still humans, but now it's a thousand times worse...

They have the whole team cooing at how adorable they are with hearts in their optics, and they are pretty much wrapped around their tiny chubby fingers

This would be super freaking adorable and I can't not build on this thought.

After the Initial Transformation

Literally no one would have any idea what to do after three sparklings turn up where the human children were moments ago. However it wouldn't take long for Optimus, who already accepted the children as his own sparklings, to hurry over and lovingly begin coaxing them over to him. He would call out to them by the Cybertronian names he had given them and sing at a frequency too high for human ears but very clearly meant to sooth fearful sparklings.

The others, both human and bot, would be far too wrapped up in processing what was happening and watching the whole event go down to interfere. As such it wouldn't take all that long for Optimus to collect the three newly made sparklings and begin cooing at them in a way he had only ever done so to Bumblebee when he was small.

Of course, then the panic would hit. June would flip out upon seeing her son turned into a Cybertronian and demand both an explanation and a solution. Agent Fowler would develop a migraine immediately upon realizing that he would have to deal with the fallout of three human children going "missing" for a while. Not to mention having to explain all the nonsense to the military.

As for the bots, Ratchet would find himself awestruck upon seeing not one, but three sparklings millennia after the Well went dark. Then he would have a similar migraine as the realization that he would be responsible for figuring out the stupid relic hit him.

Smokescreen and Bumblebee would be worried momentarily but then be positively thrilled at the concept of younger siblings. Bulkhead would be more concerned than anything else because of his lack of knowledge on how to handle sparklings. And Arcee would be shocked but ultimately be more worried about having to cover up the kids disappearances to their families who were out of the loop. Ultra Magnus would be mostly confused with the situation in general but intrigued by the thought of having sparklings running around again after so long. And lastly Wheeljack would be ecstatic at the concept of having Miko be tough enough to play rougher games.

But no matter how simple Optimus can manage to make it look, sparklings are by no means easy to handle. Especially sparklings without any memories to work with.

The Sparkling's Shenanigans

Rafael

Rafael's Cybertronian form is that of a minicon, which is thankfully bipedal and not animalistic like Soundwave's cassettes. His scans indicate that his new form is only a few days old, a true infant by Cybertronian standards despite his new, and far stronger body. Due to this, his colors have only barely begun to show up on his frame. But based on what can be observed, he is likely to end up being primarily orange and rust colored.

His scans also indicate that he is an outlier of sorts, although his ability is mostly dormant due to his physical age. So far all Ratchet and Optimus can guess is that his ability is likely a mental one not too dissimilar from Soundwave's ability to download copious amounts of data and not die. However not everything about Rafael's new frame is good, his impaired vision unfortunately transferred over and so Ratchet was forced to give the sparkling a vision enhancing visor, much to his displeasure.

Rafael being a Cybertronian equivalent of an infant means he does not spend much time with anyone besides Optimus. He generally spends a good chunk of his day recharging in a makeshift baby carrier that Optimus fashioned and wears. And when not recharging he is either refueling or having some supervised playtime with the two other human turned sparklings.

Of course he still manages to wreak havoc even as such a small bot. As he is only slightly larger than he was as a human, Rafael is the perfect size to get everywhere he really shouldn't be going. This includes but is not limited to, Ratchet's workstation, the ventilation system during the one instance where Wheeljack left it accessible, and the small nooks and crannies around base. Optimus nearly had a panic attack when he couldn't find Rafael for over an hour. Thankfully he was later found by Ultra Magnus in Smokescreen's secret stash of rust sticks, although not many of the treats were still untouched by that point.

Rafael is loved by all in base, and when Optimus is finally forced to put him down for whatever reason, the right to sparklingsit him is one that is highly sought after. Not only is Rafael cute, but he is also an incredibly mild sparkling, well behaved, and willing to babble adorably when prompted. So long as he isn't allowed to wander off on shaky little pedes, he is the most lovable thing on two legs. Whole brawls broke out for the first few days after the transformation until the concept of bribery was introduced. The rules are simple, do something nice for Optimus and prove your capabilities as a suitable caretaker and the bot most successful gains the right to watch Rafael.

Even Ratchet fights for the right, unfortunately for everyone else, Bumblebee is Optimus's firstborn and has so far been the undisputed winner a majority of the time.

Miko

Just as Optimus predicted, Miko's Cybertronian form is that of a flier's, one with adorably oversized wings. Her scans show that she is around half a vorn old, essentially a toddler for Cybertronians, a fact that is both despaired over and loved by nearly every bot in base. Her colors are still slightly muted but she is primarily a deep purple with pink accents around her helm and wings and blue ones on the rest of her frame.

Her scans show no disabilities or anything that would otherwise set her apart from other sparklings besides her human origin. However she is a flier, and she has coding that differs from grounders in that she feels the need to attempt to take to the air whenever the opportunity is presented. This has led Ratchet to sparkling proof the whole base and Optimus to put Miko on a leash so she doesn't do anything stupid.

Miko is a true menace and will take any and every chance to get into things in order to satisfy her curiosity. The moment Optimus takes his optics off her, she tears off her leash and takes off. The very first thing she does is get to the highest spot she can reach and look over the base triumphantly with happy little chirps and a few garbled words. She will then attempt to glide down from her pedestal, sometimes succeeding, and other times requiring the nearest bot to dive to save her from hitting the ground.

When actually allowed to be off her leash for supervised playtime she likes to play battle/house with the Cybertronian toys Wheeljack and Optimus cobbled together. Bulkhead will build her little structures to place her toys and Arcee, while generally steering clear of the sparklings, will play the part of the enemy for Miko's toys to fight against. Their battles are legendary, and Smokescreen always makes sure to play dramatic music and give commentary on the whole event. Bumblebee will also sweep in and assist Miko in her battles, sometimes lifting her into the air with her toy so she can feel like she is flying.

Meanwhile Optimus and Ratchet watch the proceedings fondly and try to keep the other two sparklings from getting hurt by Miko on accident. When no bot is paying too much attention Wheeljack will try to slip Miko something "fun" in place of one of her normal toys, more often than not resulting in a mess of glitter, foam, confetti, or some other sparkling friendly substance. However since the explosion generally assosiated with Wheeljack's ultimately harmless meddling, he has since been forbidden from joining playtime unless he has been patted down first. Ultra Magnus, ever worried about the safety of the sparklings, is the one to do this when he isn't searching for Rafael who inevitably wandered off.

Overall Miko is a happy little sparkling, a little excitable and likely to accidentally hurt herself or others, but lovable all the same.

Jack

Jack ended up embodying yet another of Optimus's predictions and gained a powerful looking frame. His scans say that he is around a vorn and a half old, a child between the ages of 3 and 5 if one were to use human terms. However he looks quite a bit older than he actually is because of his bulkier and more combat oriented frame. Those around base were initially unnerved by Jack's colors and frame type which were a little too similar to Megatron's build for anyone's liking. With his colors being primarily tones of gray and black with light blue accents, the slight fear was understandable but quickly put to rest by Optimus.

Jack's scans did not indicate that has any issues frame wise, however much like Miko, his coding differs from the norm in that he has a combat based frame type. The desire to protect, guard, and engage in combat is deeply rooted in his programming ensuring that while he can be trusted with the other sparklings, he cannot be allowed to feel too threatened lest he go berserk. He is also exceptionally clingy with Optimus and extra protective of the other sparklings in large part due to his frame type.

Jack is old enough to speak semi-fluently and only talks in Cybertronian in large part due to how Optimus refuses to speak in anything else around Jack and the other sparklings. His words are still choppy and a not all that eloquent leading him to have a slight lisp which every member of the team finds adorable. Also due to his age he does not want to play with the other sparklings, instead he prefers to follow Optimus and occasionally others around and watch what they do. He likes to watch Ratchet work and seems to have a fascination with the idea of becoming a medic, something Ratchet is rather giddy about.

When he isn't watching and questioning Ratchet, Jack spends his time with Optimus learning to read, write, and speak in Cybertronian. He is fond of listening to Optimus's stories of Cybertron and the history behind their homeworld. After such stories he gushes about and draws pictures of what he imagines Cybertron and the characters in the stories to be like. The pictures are always collected and pinned to a board for the whole base to appreciate. Jack also really enjoys hanging around with Bumblebee who he sees as an older brother. Bumblebee in turn loves to spoil Jack rotten, getting him treats, letting him get away with little things, and telling him all about his own adventures.

Although most of his time is spent around the grown bots, Jack does check in on the other sparklings, his siblings, regularly. Miko worries him as there is little he can do to protect her from her own insanity and as Jack is still a bit too small, all he can do for Rafael is point out to a bigger bot where he has wandered off to. It is a bit stressful for Jack trying to keep track of his siblings but he loves them and the rest of the bots nonetheless.

Extra

Optimus and June do not get along well when it comes to Jack and the other kiddos. June wants to take care of her son and return the kids to their human forms whereas Optimus wants to keep his newfound family and is willing to go to nearly any lengths to do so. After so long without any sparklings, both he and the Matrix are loath to give up the three that were tossed upon them.

June desperately wants her son back and Optimus is perfectly fine with the new state of the human children. His usual empathy and general agreeableness towards humans up and dissipates when the topic of his sparklings being restored to human form is brought up. The thought of his sparklings returning to being human is appalling to him and he refuses to speak on the subject whenever June or Agent Fowler bring it up.

In his mind, the human children were always his sparklings, but now wreathed in living metal and within his loving embrace they are perfect, they are as they were always meant to be. His parental coding and the encouragement of the Matrix make it near impossible for him to think about returning his sparklings to their organic frames without feeling intense revulsion.

Throughout the whole sparkling dilemma Optimus and June are not on good terms.

However if Ratchet somehow finds a way to reverse the effects of the relic that caused the whole mess and the time comes for the children to be returned to their human forms, the situation could unfold in one of two ways.

Optimus gives up his sparklings with no small amount of reluctance to what in his mind, might as well be mutilation.

Optimus becomes aggressive and refuses to hand over his sparklings and needs to be sedated until the process is over.

Either way, Prime is not happy.

[who1ssheesh]

Xanxus brainrot

Note: I couldn’t even come up with a plot, I just wanted fluffy Xanxus. Hope you enjoy as much as I did writing this

Warnings: OOC Xanxus, nor proofread, English’s not my native language (ouch)

• Accidentally getting a promotion. Getting them way too often and being endorsed way too much. Going home and seeing Xanxus silent, which by the way is weird because usually this menace would have already said how dumb this is and your job is fucking dumb and you are du-

• Actually about “subtle”. No, he’s indeed not. But he thinks he is. And it’s funny that everyone in Varia thinks they are subtle, but you are the observant one. First several bouquets you got were flawless - especially calligraphic cursive handwriting (which now reminds you of Lussuria way too much). And then one time Xanxus fucked up so much, you got flowers with half of petals fucking burnt and the pressure is handwriting on the note so high it was almost ripped.

This dumbass got you flowers personally and still refuses to admit this.

• It’s funny how obvious he can be with small things. Usually he would call you dumb fucking ass and those flowers are dumb and the argument was dumb and you are du- but he stays silent. Xanxus doesn’t stay silence with the most sour face in the world. Xanxus shoots people, throws things around and shouts. He doesn’t stay silent and dart his eyes around the room.

Squalo has been shot several times after noticing this, but he thinks that was worth it cause that’s the funniest face his boss has ever had.

• That’s sad in fact. Xanxus thinks that’s…shameful. He’s bad in relationships. He’s bad with words, he’s bad with people. He’s been bad his whole life, in fact.

Just…just give him a smile, you know. You don’t even have to say anything, he’ll know it’s okay.

If you ever save one of those withered flowers - exactly the one he’s burned with his flame (and it smells like ashes to this day) or that angry written note with pen almost ripping paper, Xanxus will stop just for a moment - so quick, you won’t notice. He has always thought his heart to be frozen, but this time as if he heard a little crack. You manage to lose the most expensive jewelries he gets you, but you save that bullshit like your life depends on it, huh?

He tells you to throw this garbage away. You don’t.

• Xanxus finds you hilarious with your attitude though. The “she comes out in a dress so pretty and expensive, he falls in love even deeper” doesn’t happen. You walk out in a suit and your button shirt opened enough to see you boobs (which is dangerous around this horndog) and then you ask him to visit that pub near cause mafia black-tie events appear to be way too boring. You have probably fucked before running away to that pub

• Fun fact, Xanxus loves playing pool. A lot. No problem if you can’t, he’ll just stare at your ass to distract himself from your shameful attempts.

• Oh boy, will he appreciate you taking interest in his hobbies. Instant cupid arrow through his heart when you ask him to teach you how to shoot just like him.

• Kinda a curse and kinda on you - from now on Xanxus devour your life from you until you learn how to shoot GOOD. And he had high standards. At some point you will hate guns with passion

• He won’t be interested in any of your hobbies in return lol your loss deal with it. But if you are serious about something, he’ll gladly throw money in you he loves throwing things

• GOD WILL SAVE YOU if you accidentally appear to have a flame. Especially strong one (sky??? Even worse if it’s like Xanxus sky+smth??). Because he will devour the whole life from you to make you cool. He will show off you everywhere and everywhere. “Hey you see that one? This thing is mine btw”, so at least he will be proud….

• No romance in this relationship, your conversations sound like “Bitch I swear I’ll kill your family”, “NOT IF I KILL YOUR FIRST”

• Don’t get me wrong but…he thinks about children? Once in a blue moon. At those moments standing at the balcony at 4 am not even drunk thinking about wild shit. Would his life be ok if he never met Nono? That stuff.

• He wonders if his child gonna have your eyes, just like he has his mothers and thinks about it every time he looks in the mirror.

• Xanxus mostly thinks about it in a mocking way - he wants to be that cool badass dad everyone gonna be jealous of. He will teach his son (of course he wants a son) how to shoot his gun, he will laugh the first time this little shit comes home drunk.

• Xanxus has seen a lot. Also he has seen someone’s family being killed. Xanxus is not honest even with himself but he honest with one thing - it will break him. And it will break you first of all

• What if he himself dies? That’s a better option, sure (don’t get me wrong, he wants to die in a badass gunfight), but won’t his life repeat again in his son? He knows there will be people to watch after you both, even you yourself are badass enough (that’s why he dates you), but he doesn’t trust anyone with your life.

So no kids. But sometimes a man can dream, huh?

• My man is not jealous contrary to famous opinion. He likes to see anyone try to even approach you, unironically will find that hilarious. He is a bad influence and encourages you to act like a child - throw a tantrum, throw a drink at a poor fool, tell him you already belong to the bestest hottest man, and he will laugh out loud

• Wear his clothes. He will throw you out the window if you mention, but he starts buying too much clothing that he doesn’t wear. As if he does it for someone else, huh?

• You can hate varia members with passion but they without a joke are going to treat you with respect. You have THE character to keep in touch with their boss, that’s already a sign

• You’re so far gone you’ve probably once was so mad with Xanxus you tried to shoot him with his own gun. Probably ended with a sex marathon. Not that your tiny figure gonna be a threat to this big bear but hey, at least that’s hot

• Xanxus probably has a sweet tooth to this day. His mother could never afford candies, and Xanxus - being even a grown adult - sometimes acts as if he wants all the chocolate of the world.

He will shoot anyone who sees him devouring chocolates. You usually say it’s you when someone notices a pile of wrappers

• I’m talking from a big experience now: childhood in poverty is a trauma for Xanxus to this day and he tends to spend money on dumb impulsive shit. Please don’t encourage him, he’s already insufferable and Squalo has enough of a headache with his boss spending all the money. You appearing didn’t help actually

• One day you just gotta say your man that you don’t need expensive gifts or don’t like flowers, otherwise all the flowers of the world would go extinct. Like varia budget

• That’s his love language, he can’t show appreciation otherwise, don’t blame him?

Though with time he starts warming up to quality time together. He really enjoys your time at a shooting range, especially if you stars gossiping about Varia. At some point he even gonna start commenting your points. Hells, he even likes you just silently sitting in his office while he works

• A chair or a couch in his office, and everyone knows that’s where you’re usually are. Bonus point if there is your stuff all around

• Xanxus is a pig actually and makes a mess 24/7 (thank god he has maids) and it doesn’t bother him, but he will turn into a whiny baby if he ever stumbles in one of your things. Will burn it or throw out a window and have zero guilt about it.

• Has never had a nickname, so will be confused af the first time you call him Xus. Did you insult him? No? YES????

• Likes when you call him nicknames in public, has zero shame. Yes, he has a cool partner, losers. But like….badass ones, he has an image to uphold

• you wearing his feathers you wearing his feathers you wearing his feathers……….

•Xanxus has actually…never had a home. He can buy dozens of the biggest mansions a man can imagine, but that still isn’t home. Living with Nono was hell on Earth in his eyes and his mother he just doesn’t remember anymore after all those years. So the first time he hears your “Ugh, can we go home now?”, he looks at you with the most disgusted face he can make. You think you’ve done something wrong - you don’t see him till late night, when he comes utterly drunk (which means just a little more drunk than usual). But he just flops on a bed to you. “Shut up and go to sleep”. You obviously never get to actual conversation about this but everyone can notice Xanxus hurries back to you (he thinks he’s so subtle about it but this brute is not subtle about anything). He wants to go home.

• Maybe even seeing you around Varia headquarters at some point where you became comfortable around his guardians made something click in him.

Everything is its place. You’ve been the missing part of the puzzle

• It will take long years until someone notices how much their boss changed. Even throw an occasional smile.

• My man has never experienced love JUST LOVE HIM

[nerves-nebula]

im gonna be honest i dont care about the comfort of not abused kids when it comes to writing child abuse, especially CSA, into stories for children. like i dont care if your son watches a show about some kid getting abused and feels sad, he SHOULD feel sad but imagine how much worse abused kids feel. knowing that whats happening to them is so dirty that they literally never see it portrayed in anything. that their existence as abuse victims is like, sooo gross and upsetting that they're not allowed to talk or write or make art about it until they're no longer children.

the one upside of my parents neglect is that i was never really stopped from seeking this stuff out, and it wasn't always good but it was always mine. my heart still flutters in excitement whenever i think a story is going to deal with child abuse.

its not for your stupid kid its for abused kids, and maybe your kid could learn a thing or two along the way! and maybe your kid IS being abused and you don't even know it cuz your so hell bent on sheltering them that they don't have the words !! for it!! idk!!! I DONT EVEN KNOW WHY IM RANTING ABOUT THISSSSSs i just have feelings :')

[therealvinelle]

I'm sending you and Muffin to jail for making me consider if I'd be much different from Tom if I was in his place.

I started reading The man who would be king and in chapter 7, when Lily gets shown the first two memories of Tom as firstie and starts thinking that she and Tom might be similar, I'm right here with her.

just... had I grown up in an orphanage and then got a visit from Dumbledore and he set my wardrobe on fire?? and continued to watch me distrustfully all the time at school?

and sure, there were supposedly stolen things in the wardrobe and it's definitely possible that Tom just stole things from other kids because he wanted to, but it's equally possible that someone stole Tom's things first and he just returned the favour. to make sure it won't happen to him again.

and I do believe that being mean so that people aren't mean to you is not a good way to live. but sometimes there's people that will leave you alone once you show them that you won't just take it.

I don't really have a way to excuse the rabbit thing, had that really been Tom's doing (this is your [plural] influence, me questioning things like that), except that perhaps he killed it by accident and then since it was already dead, he used it to leave a message. but even that is a stretch.

perhaps I'm being too kind to Tom, but growing up in an orphanage couldn't have been easy. especially before and during the 2nd world war. and it just doesn't seem Dumbledore even gave Tom a chance.

and he's Tom's teacher, obviously in a position of authority over Tom... those school years couldn't have been easy for Tom just from the 'Dumbledore keeps staring at me mistrustfully and blaming everything on me' reason. and Tom can't just switch schools to avoid him. and there were obviously other reasons, like blood purity prejudice.

and I like to think had it been me in Tom's place, I wouldn't have made Deatheaters about it or anything that had likelihood for getting people killed. but who knows, maybe after 7 years of dealing with it, I'd have snapped too, if likely somewhat differently.

...I just might've been less strategic and more petty about it, even in the first year of Hogwarts, perhaps attempting to break into Dumbledore's quarters and setting his clothes on fire, to see how he'd like that when it happens to him (I know Tom's wardrobe wasn't actually set on fire, it only looked like that, but still).

that probably wouldn't endear me-as-Tom to Dumbledore either, lol.

in conclusion, had I been in Tom's situation treated like he is, it would be less lethal to everyone around unless it made me go insane, and I'd probably live a pretty quiet life after graduating, but my school years wouldn't look that much different. perhaps even worse because I wouldn't make many long term plans (or I'd make the plans, but not actually act on them), just made more short term trouble.

and I think that while a lot might've stayed the same, I think there could be some significant differences in the story had Tom's Hogwarts' letter come with a different professor, not giving Dumbly a chance to be told about Tom from Ms. Cole.

Anon is referring to mine and @theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin's fic The Man Who Would Be King.

As for your observations, I get what you mean. Tom Riddle is in many ways a cleverly disguised SI, Muffin and I didn't want to go the route of Automatically Evil, he's just dark like that, Tom Riddle. He has reasons to be the way he is, and capacity to be better.

[buckyownsmylife]

Don’t hurt yourself - bodyguard!Aaron Hotchner smut

The one where Hotch’s responsible for your safety

Word count: 2k

Warnings: smut, boss-employee relationship, angsty vibes, a whole lot of feels, dirty talk, one darker thought, kind of breeding kink?

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Are you ready to leave?” I winced at the cold and detached tone from my bodyguard. This isn’t how he usually talked to me. Sure, he was nothing but cold and stoic when we first met and he started working for me, but it’d been over a year now. I believed we were friends now.

Of course, it was hard to believe that when he didn’t even so much as glance in my direction as he guided me outside of the building, protecting me from the crowds of screaming fans that I’d been so eager to please when I first arrived for this interview.

If only I’d known it would make him this angry.

The drive back to my house was silent, and I hated it. I hated it because it reminded me of those early days when I was still so unsure of him, unsure of how he felt about me. I was sure that he despised me. And my eager-to-please personality just couldn’t stand it.

Now that I knew that he liked me, his silence meant something even worse: his disappointment and anger. And I hated the thought of him being even discontented by my behaviour.

“Are you really going to ignore me forever?” The question escaped me before I could process it, making him stop in his tracks as he prepared himself to storm into my house and hide in his own designated wing. But I didn’t regret it once it was out. I much preferred to have him looking at me with fire in his eyes than pretending I didn’t exist at all.

“Isn’t this what you wanted? I mean, you ignored me earlier today, when I asked you not to go out into that crowd. Why shouldn’t I give you the same treatment?” I shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to deal with the realization that he was right, that I had disrespected him.

“I’m sorry.” It felt pathetic, especially since I couldn’t raise my eyes to meet his, but it was all I had, and if anything, it was honest. But when he scoffed, I knew it wouldn’t be enough, and I started to panic as I pondered what else I could do to make him forgive me.

“I don’t want you to be sorry, I want you to listen to me. Why can’t you?” I didn’t know what to answer, but he didn’t seem to need it. He was on a roll now, and I knew it wasn’t the right time, but I found myself getting tongue-tied by the way the veins of his neck jumped out now that he was releasing his anger on me.

“This is my job,” he continued. “I’m supposed to keep you safe. I can’t do that if you don’t listen to what I ask you to do. Do you know what could have happened while you were out there, in a crowd of overexcited, uncoordinated people?”

“Yes.”

“Then why did you do it anyway?” He let himself fall on my couch, jaw still clenched, irritation perfectly clear in each and every one of his movements. And so I took a seat next to him, trying to figure out what I could possibly say to hopefully make this better, but I decided to start by putting a comforting hand on his thigh.

His eyes immediately followed my movement, and he stared at where I touched him for a while before raising his gaze to meet mine again. Anger had been somewhat replaced by hurt, and another sentiment I couldn’t quite identify.

“I don’t want to have to deal with your death. I can’t even bear the thought of that happening.” It was fear, I realized. Fear of losing me. And that feeling was so real, so heavy, so suffocating, that it had my own heart constricting, and I squeezed his thigh so he’d know I felt it too.

“It would be a lot of paperwork,” I tried to lighten the mood, but I knew he heard the unshed tears in my tone. They weren’t tears of fear, but of guilt. I hated that the bravest man I knew was scared, and I hated that I was the cause of it.

“Don’t even joke about that.” There was so much emotion behind his words that he had me raising my gaze to meet his, and what I saw there this time made me lose my breath. “I can’t lose you. And I don’t mean that as in I don’t want to be responsible for your death, but as in I can’t live without you.”

And suddenly I knew. He didn’t have to tell me - he was begging me not to ask him to say it, in fact. I could see that. But I knew. I knew him so well, I didn’t know how I didn’t see it before.

Maybe because I’d been so busy trying to hide my own love for him, I ignored his. It was easier that way, after all. Because it was obvious - the second we knew what the other felt, we would never be able to pretend it wasn’t there anymore.

“Kiss me,” I pleaded, and his eyes widened like he wasn’t expecting it. “Kiss me. Right now.” His eyes dropped to my lips as his opened up like he was actually tempted but just couldn’t find it in himself to do it. I’d leaned over his body now, practically on his lap, when his hands went around my torso to hold me over my lower back.

“I don’t want to kiss you,” he said, making me pout. And still, his eyes never left my lips while he licked his. “I want to knock some sense into you. Can’t be rewarding this kind of behaviour.”

His words thrilled me, sending a jolt of excitement through my body that had me actually throwing my leg on the other side of his lap so I could straddle him properly. His breath was coming out of his mouth now, his gaze undecided between my mouth or my eyes.

“Punish me in other ways,” I pleaded. He looked transfixed by what I was saying. “Make me cum until I cry. Make it hurt. Have me begging you to stop. I want to feel you for days.” He was breathing heavier now, his chest heaving with the effort to keep inhaling and exhaling because of my words.

Hotch’s P.O.V.

“Please, put me in my place.” Her words were like honey, spilling out sweet and tempting from her beautiful lips that were just inches from mine now. I wanted to reach out and touch them. I wanted to reach out and lick them, taste her words as she said them against my mouth. “I’ll be good then. I promise.”

There was only so much a man could take.

“Once I’m done with you...” I warned her, wrapping her nape with my hand and pulling her even closer. “... you won’t be able to walk.” And then I finally kissed her.

It was hungrier than I ever intended our first kiss to be, but she had made me desperate. Her sweetness only added to my need for more. Our lips danced together in a way I’d only dreamed of, and when I had to let us part to breathe, her question took away the last of my control.

“Promise?”

I carried her to her bedroom blindly, relishing in the weight of her in my arms, the feeling of her legs wrapped around my body as I managed to kiss her again the entire way there. Once she was back on her own feet, our clothes were sent flying across the room, her smaller hands trembling in excitement when she reached out to undo the buttons of my shirt.

“God, you’re beautiful,” I commented, cradling her face once her body was completely exposed to me. It prompted her to throw her arms around my neck and pull me down for another kiss, but it still wasn’t enough. I wanted more of her - I wanted all of her.

“Lay down,” I ordered. “You’re not going to succeed in making me forget this is supposed to be a punishment.” The haze of lust in her eyes betrayed just how aroused she was at the idea of suffering in my hands. “Spread that glistening little pussy for me, baby.”

Slowly, because she knew I was not a patient man, she opened her legs to show me just how wet she already was with the little we’d done that evening, her hands squeezing her own breasts as she stared up at me, throat dry and chest heaving with desire for her.

She awakened something dark in me, something I never thought I’d be able to explore. Now that she was here, ready and willing and exposed, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to just tuck it away again.

Making sure that she was watching me, I leaned over her already wet cunt and spit on it, unwilling to make this situation hurtful to her in any way, but also incapable of actually taking my time to prepare her thoroughly.

“Are you sure you really want this?” I asked, eyes connected to hers as I smeared my spit over her hole, watching her clench around nothing at the ghost of my digit. This was the last chance to back down, and although I wasn’t sure if I would actually be able to pull away if she changed her mind, I knew I needed to hear the answer.

“Yes, oh, God, Aaron, please!” The words were replaced with me pushing into her, groaning at the tightness that welcomed me hungrily. She whined out loud and I froze halfway in, scared I’d hurt her somehow, but at the lack of movement her limbs wrapped around me, her legs pushing my ass in an effort to get me to bottom out inside of her.

Her satisfied moan had me chuckling, even though I was over the moon myself. Old habits die hard, I guess, and I just had to tease her, “Oh, does that feel good?” All she could do was nod, but that was alright. We were both ready for me to start truly fucking her, and at the feeling of me almost pulling out to slam myself in again, she cried out, hands clawing at my back, hopefully leaving indentations.

“You like that, princess?” I’d only ever used the pet name before to mock her, and although there was definitely some sense of jest in my tone, there was still sweetness, wonder, infatuation. She nodded once more, mouth having fallen open after I entered her, leading me to kiss the corner of her lips instead of devouring her in the way I wished to do.

“This is what I’m gonna do every time you disobey me from now on,” I warned, changing the pace to make it harder, almost bruising even. I wanted her to be on the edge between pain and bliss, and I wanted her to forever remember who it was that brought her there.

“You think I don’t hear your moans when you lay on this bed at night and touch yourself?” Her gasp denounced her surprise, and she hid her face in the crook of my neck, holding me tighter.

“You think I don’t close my eyes and imagine it’s me making you moan, giving you pleasure?” That got her to stop hiding, gaze raising to meet mine, and I smiled, brushing the hair off her face as I took it between my hands.

“We won’t have to do that anymore, darling.” Kissing her deeply, I swallowed all of her moans before they could escape her, loving to be this connected to the woman who had stolen my heart.

“You know why?” I pulled away to catch my breath, watching her glossy eyes as she shook her head, unable to speak. “Because you’re mine now, all mine.”

Voicing my deepest desire rekindled my need, making me fuck her harder, spearing her over and over against the bed. I wanted to see the marks of our lovemaking later, the imprints of my nails, the bites all over her skin.

The thought of admiring them in the morning only spurred me on.

“Tell me you need me,” I incited, forehead glued to hers, desperate to hear the words from her own lips. “Tell me you’ll never disobey me again, never put yourself at risk dumbly.”

My voice was thick as I spoke, betraying the emotion I didn’t care to hide anymore. She smiled, hugging me to her and whispered, “worth it,” and how could I be mad?

“Again,” she ordered, and with another powerful thrust, I brought us to a release that was both blinding and revealing of some sentiments I’d struggled way too hard to keep in.

Heavy kissing followed said release. I didn’t want to catch my breath, I wanted to drown in her and this moment, forget about everything else for a while.

“I want you to be the mother of my children.” There it was, the words unspoken I couldn’t take back anymore. And instead of letting the moment fill with regret, I just got out of the bed and went to grab her a glass of water, hoping she’d forget all about it the moment I was back.

“Let’s do it.”