#i read a maybe incorrect thing about how

[firewalkwithmedvd]

okay I'm STILL in the hospital with a necrotizing pancreas (I've been here for two weeks) and I have no fucking idea how I'm going to make rent or even when I'm going to get out 😭😭😭😭😭😭 I'm exhausted and I'd like to be able to go back into work for only a few hours when I can go back and focusing on healing instead of trying to force myself back into working full time and ending up back here. so. If you've got any spare cash you'd like to throw to someone who has been hospitalized for two weeks now... I'd really really appreciate it I'm very stressed and having a really bad time and you know. rent is $615, I love you all, please don't read the tags if you're easily triggered, I'm having a rough time

paypal

venmo: @tthursdays

[lecliss]

I'll never be able to take the theory that Vincent is Sephiroth's real father seriously cuz I cannot stress enough how important I think it is to the plot that Vincent wanted to fuck Lucrecia and did not get to.

[kindnessoverperfection]

Please, if you can, take a moment to read and share this because I feel like I'm screaming underwater.

NPD (Narcissistic Personality Disorder) stigma is rampant right now, and seems to be getting progressively worse. Everyone is using it as a buzzword in the worst ways possible, spreading misinformation and hatred against a real disorder.

I could go on a long time about how this happened, why it's factually incorrect (and what the disorder actually IS), why it's harmful, and the changes I'd like to see. But to keep this concise, I'll simply link to a few posts under the cut for further reading.

The point of this post is a plea. Please help stop the spread of stigma. Even in mental health communities, even around others with personality disorders, in neurodivergent "safe" spaces, other communities I thought people would be supportive in (e.g. trans support groups, progressive spaces in general), it keeps coming up. So I'm willing to bet that a lot of people on this site need to see this.

Because it's so hard to exist in this world.

My disorder already makes me feel as if I'm worthless and unlovable, like there's something inherently wrong and damaged about me. And it's so much harder to fight that and heal when my daily life consists of:

Laughing and spending time with my friends, doing my utmost best to connect and stay present and focused on them, trying to let my guards down and be real and believe I'm lovable- when suddenly they throw out the word "narcissist" to describe horrible people or someone they hate, or the conversation turns to how evil "people with narcissistic personality disorder" are. (Seriously, you don't know which of your friends might have NPD and feels like shit when you say those things & now knows that you'd hate them if you knew.)

Trying to look up "mental health positivity for people with npd", "mental health positivity cluster bs", only to find a) none of that, and b) more of the same old vile shit that makes me feel terrible about myself.

Having a hard time (which is constant at this point) and trying to look up resources for myself, only to again, find the same stigma. And no resources.

Not having any clue how to help myself, because even the mental health field is spitting so much vitriol at people with DISORDERS (who they're supposed to be helping!) that there's no solid research or therapy programs for people like me.

Losing close friends when they find out, despite us having had a good relationship before, and them KNOWING me and knowing that I'm not like the trending image of pwNPD. Because now they only see me through the lens of stigma and misinformation.

Hearing the same stigma come up literally wherever I go. Clubs. Meetings. Any online space. At the bus stop. At the mall. At a restaurant. At work. Buzzword of the year that everyone loooves loudly throwing around with their friends or over the phone. Feels awesome for me, makes my day so much better/s

I could go on for a long time, but I'm scared no one will read/rb this if it gets too much longer.

So please. Stop using the word "narcissist" as a synonym for "abusive".

Stop bringing up people you hate who you believe to have NPD because of a stigmatizing article full of misinformation whenever someone with actual NPD opens their mouth. (Imagine if people did that with any other disorder! "Hey, I'm autistic." "Oh... my old roommate screamed at me whenever I made noise around him, and didn't understand my needs, which seems like sensory overload and difficulty with social cues. He was definitely autistic. But as long as you're self-aware and always restraining your innate desire to be an abusive asshole, you're okay I guess, maybe." ...See how offensive and ignorant that is?)

Stop preventing healthcare for people with a disorder just because it's trendy to use us as a scapegoat.

If you got this far, thank you for reading, and please share this if you can. Further reading is under the cut.

NPD Criteria, re-written by someone who actually has NPD

Stigma in the DSM

Common perception of the DSM criteria vs how someone may actually experience them (Keep in mind that this is the way I personally experience these symptoms, and that presentation can vary a lot between individuals)

"Idk, the stigma is right though, because I've known a lot of people with NPD who are jerks, so I'm going to continue to support the blockage of treatment for this condition."

(All of these were written by me, because I didn't want to link to other folks' posts without permission, but if you want to add your own links in reblogs or replies please feel free <3)

[andwewerehappy]

“nineteen year olds are adults and should be treated accordingly” beloved what a truly insane thing to believe. i just read one of the worst takes i’ve ever heard in my life on here so i went to their page and it said they were 19 and therefore i immediately forgave them. hot take but 18-19 yr olds are actually dumber than 14-15 yr olds. and honestly a lot of it comes from being told at that age that you’re now an adult and what you say and do Matters and is the Real You. like respectfully no it is not i am more mortified by what i said and did when i was 17-20 than by what i was doing at 12-15. and maybe that’s me telling on myself but like. god we really need to start treating young “adults” in the 18-21 range with a whole lot more grace and forgiveness. at least i know i do with myself. my deepest regrets and guilt spirals i put myself through are from when i was that age and said or did things current me would never dream of doing and i’m so guilty and shameful of it now and just like. i know i need to stop but that’s the mental illness and maybe it isn’t like this for other people/everyone and this is mostly for me but even if it is. it needs to stop. we need to learn to forgive ourselves. and a lot of the fear and guilt stems from the fact that it was or could have been online and documented and there are “receipts” and could be found and seen and people will find out and think i still think or do or say that and i know that’s the paranoia to an extent but it also might not be. this is getting off point but whatever. people say and do and believe awful things and i think the important thing is how they react and respond and change once they learn and understand. and on a fundamental level 17-21 yr olds just don’t have a fully developed understanding. of anything. so much of your life which up to that point is your childhood is learned from your immediate surroundings and family and community and once you get out into the world and experience it more you learn how to be more and more and you learn that your younger self did not have all the facts and insight and it’s just. we need to practice more forgiveness. we need to treat one another and ourselves with more grace. i personally probably need to see a therapist but that’s beside the point. and there is no one on the planet who needs to understand this more than the 17-21 yr olds of the world.

[kisses4reid]

convenient pt. 2 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

pt. 1 (you cannot read part 2 with no context).

summary - he totally just cares if you pass your exams, nothing else. there is no other reason he keeps coming back to your convenience store.

genre - fluff, fem!college!reader x early season!spencer

warnings - school work, incorrect science stuff bc i’m just a girl

a/n - thank you all for the love on the first part!!! it was so surprising, especially since it was the first fic i’ve uploaded on this blog, i love y’all so much 🫶 thank you to those who suggested to make this a series, i would’ve totally made this a oneshot if not for y’all.

“you got any plans tonight spencer?”, morgan asked, taking his jacket off the back of his chair, passing spencer’s clean desk.

“uh, yeah actually.”

“really?” morgan stopped beside him, looking over his shoulder, a smirk crawling up, “with who?”

“moby dick.” spencer lied, morgan rolled his eyes.

“you’re no fun man.”

the doorbell rang, but after not seeing a certain skinny man for two nights, you’re mind starting to reset into the ‘studying grind mode’ it had been on before meeting spencer. stop thinking about spencer, keep studying.

three ladies dressed in short skirts, a white man with dreads (yikes), and a boy around 8 years old checked out with various items before a 3 minute cannelloni, bag of coffee, and an apple landed in front of you. before you could look up he spoke,

“how did your assignment go?” you jumped in your seat, nearly punching the man in the face before you placed a hand over your heart and sighed,

“good lord, you need to learn how to walk louder.”

spencer grinned. you scanned the cannelloni, he glanced at your hand still over your heart.

“rubatosis.”

“bless you?”

“the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat.” you glanced up and saw him looking at your hand with a thin lipped awkward smile. you quickly put your hand down and continued scanning, pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“we all know words. like… vellichor.” you spoke, packing his things in the same plastic bag he brought just little of a week ago. he tilted his head,

“the love of used bookstores?”

“i saw old books in your car.”

“you were looking in my car?” he put his hands in his pockets, as he looked out the window to his parked vehicle, not planning to pick up his bag of ‘groceries’ anytime soon. only then did you notice his tie was askew, his hair a little disheveled, his eyes a little sunken. the doorbell rung, a middle-aged balding man walking in behind spencer.

“i’m observant. $12.98.” he whipped out a slim wallet from his back pocket, flicking through some notes to pull out a $20. you ruffled through the register for his change as he remarked,

“you didn’t even look at the register.”

“don’t need to, you’re predictable.” you reply with a sneaky smile, causing spencer to copy reluctantly.

there was an awkward cough from behind him, the middle-aged man. spencer turned back to you after realising that he was in fact in a convenience store, and you were in fact the only worker there. “sorry sir, um. bye.” he took his bag, the thin lipped smile becoming nearly as predictable as his late-night groceries.

“bye.”

the tall, awkward, superbly smart man who smelt like wood didn’t show up for 5 nights. you thought there were only three possibilities at his absence: sickness, death, or he’s learnt how to cook.

you thought the next time you saw him you would ask more about him. in between studying, classes, and working, there wasn’t much time for a social life in your day to day. or maybe you wouldn’t. maybe he wasn’t showing up because he wasn’t really a regular, just a guy who needed quick meals, coffee, and apples on those specific nights. that’s insane, you are insane, get back to studying.

you almost didn’t recognise him the next night. same clothes, same height, same cologne, different face. dark circles under his eyes, permanent lines between his eyebrows, and a purple bruise on his left cheek. it was silent, he was the only customer at 11:30pm. you both made eye contact while you scanned his items, (same things plus a travel first aid kit) silently observing his expectant expression before you broke the silence.

“i’m not going to ask.”

“i got hit with the butt of a gun.” he said matter of factly.

you halted, coffee bag in hand, and stared at him, squinting. “…okay. actually i am gonna ask. who would hit a librarian with the butt of a gun?”

he scrunched his eyebrows and tilted his head, blinking, “i’m not a librarian. why do you think i’m a librarian?”

you packed his things, “smart, dressed posh, just general mysterious good looking librarian vibe,” he handed you a $20, “you remind me of a pipe cleaner with eyes.”

he raised an eyebrow, breaking eye contact, “not the first time i’ve heard that.”

you laughed, thinking it was a joke. his shoulders relaxed, the lines between his eyebrows softening. he grabbed his things, “bye, y/n.”

“bye, spencer.”

you were so close to finding out more about him. how the hell does a man that looks like that get into so much trouble?

you finish your shift, packing your textbooks and now flat laptop, locking everything up and turning the lights off. it was 1am. and, spencer was asleep in his car.

you looked around and put your jacket around your shoulders before jogging up to his driver’s window. his head was lulled to one side, mouth closed, chest rising softly. you knocked, and suddenly he was wide-eyed and searching for something.

“spencer? what are you still doing here?” you speak just loud enough for him to hear behind the window, which he promptly put down. you had a split second realisation how crazy this was. checking in on a regular, watching a regular sleep, feeling safe enough to approach a man’s car just because he buys the same thing every night he comes to the convenience store.

“sorry, i didn’t mean to fall asleep. i- uh,” he wiped his face, “sorry.”

you look at him with concern, “it’s okay, just.. try not to look like you were waiting for me to finish my shift to kidnap me next time, okay?”

he sighed and nodded. waving goodbye, you started down the street, your apartment only being a block away. over the music now playing in your ears, you heard a car drive away, mixing with your confused thoughts about who this regular really is and what he does for a living. and how does he look that good.

he was back the next night, same black slacks, with a purple sweater a shade darker than your own.

“hey spencer, before i scan your 3 minute bolognese, coffee and bag of apples-“

“how did you get that perfectly-“

“i’m going to ask this and you’re going to answer, okay?”

you know nothing about this man, but talking to him like a good friend felt natural now. though, you still tried to avoid over stepping it.

“-though you don’t actually have to answer it. you are a customer and i can’t force customers to do anything but- seeing as though you know i’m a college student and that i work at this convenience store and that i sort of suck at biology- sorry i’m rambling,” you take a breath, “where do you work?” you finish, spencer smiling slightly. you were surprised he didn’t cut you off to stop you, like everyone else did. he didn’t answer at first, the squeak of your shoe against the floor displayed your anxious tell.

“i can’t tell you.”

you sighed, rolling your eyes and packing his stuff, he already had a $20 ready in his hand. you took it, fingers brushing slightly against his. “you suck, and your so suspicious. i should just call security.”

he looked around, fiddling his fingers together, ��you don’t have security.”

you pointed to a dead cockroach outside underneath the warm street light. “yes we do. why do you think he’s twitching? he’s insane, he’ll hurt you.”

he chuckled, the sound bringing a shade of pink to your cheeks. “you don’t work on weekends.”

you squinted, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and maybe a bit of fear. “what.”

“i came in on a weekend and a man was here.” he explained as you nodded.

“yeah, no i don’t. why?”

spencer gulped, taking his bag, and smiling awkwardly, “nothing, bye!”

you waved, confused. also stressed, you hadn’t worked on your psychology assignment while waiting for him to show up.

pt. 3

taglist- @jeffswh0re @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @wannabewolf @evysian @trashmonstersara

[inconspicious-random-thoughts]

Broken staff

It more than likely been mentioned elsewhere but I want to talk about Alastor staff.

Vivienne mention the staff is part of his essence. Now it is split into two along with a deep gash from holy power across Alastor torso. He made sure to salvage the broken pieces before shadowing away.

I REALLY hope they do more angsty shit next season with this. Alastor power is severely weaken until he recuperates. That Alastor is covering this vulnerability from the others. Notice in that group hug, his obvious tattered clothes and gash is hidden and he back to his 'normal self' facade after his chilling and rattled part of the song. No one knows how Alastor battle went....except for the Vees. Dun Dun DUUUUUN.

I would love to watch Alastor trying to power play, manipulate and figure out his freedom. All the while hiding his weaken state. It frustrates Alastor greatly as healing seem agonizing slow. Because holy wounds heal slower or some BS like that. The hotel constantly rely on his powers that he would still provide and he continue to use his reserves to cover up his secret.

Husker was the first to notice something up. Be as observant and ability to read people, and just know Alastor. He catches the momently grimace is Alastor moved his torso wrong or an involuntary flinch, clutching his chest in pain. But Alastor recovers these moments quickly. It's in a blink of an eye type movements, that only Husker catches. It's all so obvious to Husker. The extra strain smile when Alastor performs magic. How exhausted from the exertion afterwards. Husker keeps a wary eye on him but doesn't say anything. We know what happen last time he brought up a touchy subject before.

Charlie was next to notice but it took a while. It took some obvious clues. Something like Alastor faceplants to the ground unconscious from over exhaustion after a more complicated spell. Or maybe some more dramatic...

The Vee's. They know Alastor took heavy hits. They will use that to their advantage. They possibly make a move against him and he unable to defend properly. Vox would be mocking loudly what he witness, revealing Alastor secret to the hotel. Naturally, Charlie would be hurt with a "Why didn't you tell us?" after a gasp.

I really hope they do something with it. It doesn't have to be a full season arc, they can probably even manage it in one episode as a focus with subtle clues from a few episode before it.

I be so annoyed Alastor bounce back like his fight with Adam never happened. I am a sucker of Alastor barely keeping it together and nearly losing his shit. HE. IS. BARELY.KEEPING.IT.TOGETHER. But he still keeping together...we haven't see him break yet. Can you imagine the weight of stress finally breaking him?

His staff (which is part of him) is splint in two. Just like how is internal conflicting dilemma of being powerful sociopath demon with a plan vs growing affections of the residence of hotel that complicates his plans.

All of his careful planning will go to shit, he will lose all control-He going to absolutely alone when he finally breaks down from losing control of everything and the audience will see him drop that smile.

He mention to Charlie that a smile is a way to keep control and that's when we see him drop his. As much he careful with control he doesn't even control his own soul.

Edit:

Omg, So when I originally wrote this, I knew staff was incorrect word I want to use but at the time I kept drawing a blank what to call it.

It's a cane

A cane is something be used to support themselves with, a crutch. And Alastors just splint in half. The thing that's also part of his essence and probably help channel/control his powers.

The angsty poetry is fucken delicious

~I am nearly foaming from the mouth from the thought!

[leclercloml]

Enchanted to meet you | CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x singer!reader

Summary: everyone's favourite swiftie is finally off the market, but who's that lucky guy?

Genre: SMAU

warnings: google translated french, grammar mistakes, incorrect time line to match the story line

Author's note: i reached the picture limitation so I'll do a part 2 of this as soon as I can and I'm still not very good at this, and I'm completely out of ideas, so please bare it 🫶🏻

fc: Gracie Abrams

yourinstagram

liked by oliviarodrigo, taylorswift and 23,45,873 others

yourinstagram uh-oh, I'm fallin' in love.

view comments

sabrinacarpenter oh no, I'm falling in love again

⤷username hahahahaha it's just a taylor swift reference guysss hahahahaha nothing too serious

⤷username Sabrina what do you know, please tell your kids too babe.

username mother mother mother

oliviarodrigo i think I know who it is

⤷conangray SHE TOLD YOU??!!

⤷oliviarodrigo she tells me everything

⤷username lmaaaoo Olivia knowing who's y/n love intrest is and conan going crazy over it is my new favourite thing

username whoever is her new boyfriend and if he's reading this, sweetheart sleep with one eye open

Twitter

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charles_leclerc

milan, italy

liked by yourinstagram, joris_trouche and 67,45,745 others

charles_leclerc what a beautiful show, love the songs, love the performance, thank you so much for inviting me to this beautiful event.

tagged: yourinstagram

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yourinstagram I'm glad you had fun

⤷carlossainz55 he really did he won't stop humming "where do we go now"

⤷charles_leclerc hey! it's a good song

⤷username helloo?? What is happening??!!

username I still can't believe it's real, it feels like a weird fever dream 😭

username okay but are we not gonna talk about that caption and how girlfriend she looks in the 2nd slide??

⤷username finally! I was waiting for someone to say this!

username okay guys here me out, first y/n posting her pictures with caption "uh-oh I'm falling in love" which is a lyrics from Taylor Swift song called labyrinth and basically confirming she's in love and probably dating someone and then Olivia officially confirming it by commenting "I think I know who it is" and then Charles out of blue arriving at y/n concert which by looking at caption it seems like he was invited and the 2nd slide, he was in front row and the picture look way too "girlfriend" and charles is also single and so is y/n, so maybe...MAYBE Charles might be y/n new boyfriend?

⤷username ma'am the delusion is crazy

⤷username I've connected the two dots.

⤷username you didn't connect shit.

⤷username I've connected them.

yourinstagram added to story

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Twitter

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f1

liked by scuderiaferrari , yourinstagram and 45,673,459 others

f1 CHARLES LECLERC IS THE WINNER OF 2023 ITALIAN GRAND PRIX! 🏆❤️

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scuderiaferrari that's how we win a home race 💚🤍❤️

⤷username can't believe you guys didn't fucked up his race

username call me delusional but y/n is his lucky charm

⤷username no but fr

⤷username listen @/scuderiaferrari you guys need to invite her to all of the races now.

⤷scuderiaferrari on it 🫡

charles_leclerc

liked by yourinstagram, carlossainz55 and 45,274,523 others

charles_leclerc what a win! 1-2 brought it home for all of the tifosi's out there! And also congratulations to Carlos on P2! That's how we win it and also thanks to all of the fans, team and my lucky charm! Forza Ferrari Sempre 💚🤍❤️

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carlossainz55 congratulations on the win mate ❤️!

⤷charles_leclerc thanks mate! congratulations on the podium!

yourinstagram SO SO SO PROUD OF YOU AND CARLOS!

⤷charles_leclerc couldn't have done I without you my lucky charm 🍀

⤷username AHHHHHH SHE IS HIS LUCKY CHARM SCREAMING CRYING BANGING MY HEAD AGAINST THE WALL!

⤷username just confirm your relationship already 😭😭

⤷username i don't think we need a confirmation this is already so obvious

landonorris congratulations mate!

liked by charles_leclerc and yourinstagram

username the ONLY driver to beat RedBull this year! @/yourinstagram please come to all of the races from now on 🙏

⤷yourinstagram I'll try my best 🤍

⤷username AHHHHHH!!!

PS: this is sooooo rushed I'm so sorry, I'll do a part 2 as soon as I can! Please give feedbacks 🫶🏻

Part 2!!

[roanniom]

What Comes After

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: When Steve waits too long after you give birth to initiate sex, you take matters into your own hands.

Note: I know very very little about pregnancy and the aftermath. Most of this comes from what I read in other fics, what I’ve vaguely heard from my friends, and a 5 min google search about lactation. Sorry in advance if this is incorrect.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, angst that resolves, mentions of pregnancy / babies / parenthood, PIV/unprotected sex, lactation during sex

After you give birth to your baby, you completely assumed Steve would be itching to ravish you the minute your doctor gave the all clear. In fact, you’d been mentally preparing yourself for that since before you went into labor. Those first few weeks afterwards were as rough as people had warned you and then some, but you couldn’t imagine it without your Steve.

Steve who was there beside you for absolutely everything. Late night feedings, mid day crying sessions, general panic attacks about how to do anything right for the first time, really. You’d wake up to hear him in the next room, holding and rocking your daughter back to sleep, his hushed voice soothing her whimpers and in turn lulling you back to rest.

It’s not that you thought the man capable of being such a loving, gentle partner in this new stage of life would turn into some ravenous monster at the first suggestion of sex. It’s just that he’d always been such an attentive, eager, enthusiastic lover, and that had only magnified as your pregnancy had gone on. Your hormones had made you insatiable, especially toward the end. Steve had very much gotten used to you needing to use him like a toy often - sometimes multiple times a day. So it just stands to reason that he would be absolutely itching to get back to it.

But the day of your follow up doctor's appointment came and went and...nothing. You'd come home and let him know the good news, a way smile on your face as you braced for his celebration. Steve had just looked at you over the baby's head where he had her cradled to his chest and smiled.

"Glad to hear you're healing up right, sweetheart!"

And that was that.

You'd assumed maybe he was holding himself back for your daughter's sake. So that night you'd climbed into bed wearing something slightly nicer than the long flowy nightgowns you'd taken to sporting the last few months. You applied a bit of perfume at your pulse points and rubbed a little lotion on your legs. Steve walked in shortly after running a final sweep of the apartment, making sure everything is off and locked up (he's fallen perfectly into the protective father stereotype), and when he crossed the threshold you beamed at him.

"Look at you. All smiley and beautiful and cozy," Steve cooed, sliding into bed beside you. His arms encircled you and pulled you against his body and again, you felt yourself steeling your nerves, ready for the inevitable escalation. So much so that you leaned up to initiate yourself, pressing your lips against your husband's throat. Steve hummed against your ministrations before doing the last thing you thought he'd do - he kissed the top of your head and turned you in his arms, nestling you into a warm, firm grip.

"Good night, baby. Love you," he whispered in your ear.

And that was that.

You'd been pretty surprised by the lack of action. A little rattled actually. But as Steve's breathing evened out and his arms around you became heavier with sleep, you'd reminded yourself that you hadn't really felt ready anyway. Your feelings of rejection assuaged, you'd allowed sleep to take you with him.

However, as the weeks wore on, you were less and less able to ignore the nagging feeling.

With each passing day that your husband didn't initiate sex, you began worrying more and more that he didn't want you anymore. Your postpartum hormones had you feeling wildly unfounded emotions, and you had to keep reminding yourself that they were unfounded because the evidence of Steve's actions didn't line up with your suspicions.

Steve was nothing but physical with you in the aftermath of the birth of your daughter. Constantly coming up behind you and wrapping you in his arms. Constantly showering your face and neck with kisses when he entered any room. Pulling you down to sit in his lap when you finally put the baby down for a nap or for the night. His hands were on you at all times.

Not to mention the fact that you had woken up multiple times in the middle of the night (needing to pee) to the feeling of his hard cock nestled against your curves, his arms pulling you that much tighter against him when you tried to get up.

All of these mixed messaged led to you feeling extremely confused. So much so that you did the first thing you could think of besides confronting the issue head on (because of course you weren't going to ask Steve directly, that would be too mature).

"Why hasn't he...what?!" Eddie's eyes practically bulge out of his head in response to your question. You narrow your eyes at him in contrast.

Steve has run out to get some Chinese food since "Uncle Eddie" has come over for a movie night. The different members of the gang have been coming over each weekend to help you two out and also give you a much needed dose of friendship normalcy. Eddie is sitting on your couch, your daughter in his arms, as you sit beside him with your arms crossed.

"Why hasn't he fucked me since I gave birth?" you repeat expectantly. Eddie does his best to cover the baby's ears.

"There is literally a child - your child - present, you slut," Eddie accuses in a stage whisper. You laugh out loud at that.

"First of all, she can't understand a single word that's being said. And second of all, you can't call me a slut in front of my child." You move to smack him but Eddie ducks, giving you a cheeky smile.

Eddie might be really close with Steve, but you'd very much stolen him as a best friend in your own right. As it stands, Steve has Robin and you have Eddie, that's pretty much the loyalty line. So you attempt to lean on that loyalty to solve your problem.

"C'mon, Eds," you pout. "I'm really dying here."

Eddie's eyes go wide again and he puts his hand back over your sleeping daughter's exposed ear, pressing her other ear further against his chest.

"You're really missing dick that bad?" he whispers. You shrug.

"Not just dick. Steve's dick." It comes out in a whine that has Eddie chuckling. "I'm just worried he doesn't want -,"

"Well shut right the fuck up," Eddie cuts you off with an emphatic shake of his head. "It definitely isn't that he doesn't want you."

"Aha. So you do know more than you were letting on. Spill, Munson." You lean towards him and Eddie realizes he's gotten himself stuck in something he would rather have avoided. He scratches his head with his free hand.

"It's nothing. Really. It's..."

You stare daggers into him and his shoulders sag.

"He's really scared of hurting you."

You blink at that.

"Hurting me?"

Eddie looks extremely uncomfortable, shifting in his seat and looking down at the baby before looking back up at you.

"He read one of those baby books and it said that husbands can...you know...get amorous too soon and..."

You laugh incredulously, but Eddie looks like he wants to jump out of the second story window of your apartment.

"You're laughing, but he mentioned it to Robin and Robin said that it was 100% true and that he could...I don't know...rip you open or some shit-"

"Eddie!" you cut your friend off before he can make himself any more uncomfortable. "I mean, yes. It's true. But I've been cleared by the doctor. It's been like...months since that would have been something to worry about."

Eddie raises an eyebrow at that. The baby fusses quietly in his arms and he automatically bounces his knee to rock her just slightly, soothing her. Despite the nature of your conversation, the whole image melts your heart.

"Look, princess," Eddie says quietly, pulling out his long-used nickname for you. "Steve loves you pretty much more than any one human can possibly love someone. And you know I hate complimenting that asshole."

You snort in response but he continues.

"I'm sure it's killing him, too, to not be...intimate. Have you talked to him about it?"

"I told him that the doctor said it was okay..." you reply, kind of avoiding the question. Eddie groans, dropping his head against the back of the couch.

"This isn't one of those things where you come to me for help and I find out you haven't even tried doing anything to fix it first, is it?"

"Edward Munson, how could you ask me that?" you ask with faux insult. Eddie rolls his head to the side to look at you.

"I can ask you that because of the time you thought Steve wanted to just be friends with you and instead of talking to him you cried to me."

"That's - "

"And that time you thought he'd been sneaking around behind your back, even though all he was doing was planning his proposal."

"Okaaay, Eddie."

"And the time - ,"

"Alright shut up," you snap, not holding back your laughter. You bite your lip and look back at your friend holding your baby, the product of your love with Steve. You chew on the inside of your cheek. "Fine. Maybe I need to do something myself."

"Ya think?" Eddie asks with a grin that says he's way too pleased with himself.

"But you're going to help me."

Eddie's smile turns into an overdramatic frown.

"Why do I have to do anything? It's your sex life, slut."

"Because you love me," you say simply, batting your eyelashes. Eddie goes to respond but in that exact moment your daughter decides to wake up, stretching and giving the cutest tiny yawn in the entire world, melting the metal head in front of you. He glances up at you begrudgingly and then kisses the baby on her nose. Gazing down at her, he coos.

"Guess I'm gonna help your mommy get laid. Again."

~*~

It's about a week later by the time your plan can finally be put into action.

Steve comes home at the end of a long Friday at Family Video, ready to spend the night with his two girls. He runs in the door of your shared apartment and heads straight to the nursery so quickly he doesn't have enough time to register his surroundings. The dimmed lights, the lit candles, the soft music playing. When he reaches the nursery and finds the crib empty, however, Steve's blinders come off.

"Honey? Honey where are you?" Steve asks, calling out and walking back into the living room, unsettled.

That’s when you step out of your bedroom, leaning against the doorway in a silky robe.

“Right here, Stevie.”

Steve’s jaw drops open at the sight of you, all the air knocked from his lungs. He blinks rapidly. Seemingly unable to process what’s going on.

“Baby…?”

“She’s with Joyce and Hopper for the night,” you reply, though you know the pet name was for you and not a question about your daughter. Steve looks around the room as if taking the state of it in for the first time, but also as if he is slightly aimless without a baby to care for.

“That’s…wow. Is it too soon? It’ll be weird not putting her to bed,” Steve says, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

You know what he means. When Eddie had come to get her earlier this afternoon, you’d felt like your heart was being ripped from your body. But looking at your husband right now - feeling the chasm between you close as his eyes rake down your body - you know it was the right thing to do.

"We needed a night to be grown ups. Don't you think, Steve?" you ask, pushing off from the doorway. Your silk robe slips open, revealing a gauzy babydoll night dress that hits right at your upper thigh. You swear Steve turns a shade of red you've never seen in a matter of seconds. You can hear an audible swallow as you move into Steve's space, tugging at his Family Video vest till it falls off his shoulders and onto the floor. "You want that, too, don't you?"

You don't give him a second to respond. Instead you crawl your fingers up under his shirt, grasping at his sides to pull him to you as you big to kiss the side of his neck. The shuddering inhale is a good indication of the effect you're having on him, followed immediately by the way his arms encircle your body.

This is what you've wanted. What you've needed. What you've craved every night as you laid beside your doting, sweet, silly husband, desperate for a touch he hadn't necessarily deprived you of, but a touch which you needed more more more.

"Honey." He says it like a prayer. Like a question to be answered. You pull back from his skin long enough to look up and find his face a storm of emotion. Love and lust and worry swirl together, but before you can move to comfort or question him, his lips are on yours. Kissing you for all he's worth. For all you're worth. For all the two of you are worth combined.

The kissing never stopped. That wasn't something he'd been holding back from you these past few months. But clearly he'd been holding back in intensity, because there's something all-consuming about the way Steve is kissing you now. It has you gasping for air in the mere seconds of reprieve he gives you before he's back to devouring your mouth, his hands roaming all over the body he'd spent so long treating with kid gloves.

You're the one who begins walking backwards, leading him into the bedroom without pulling away from the kiss. It's easy to forget about the other plans you'd made for the evening. The bottle of wine on the counter, the meal on the table. You'd assumed you might have to wine and dine Steve. Get him a little loose and convince him to ravish you. You hadn't expected him to crumble like this or to become as nonverbal as he has since he walked in the door. Your usually talkative man has dissolved into nothing but pants and grunts as he tries his best to get his lips and hands on every part of you he can.

When the backs of your knees hit the bed and you pull him down on top of you, however, he does finally seem to come to his senses.

"We...oh fuck. We don't have to do anything, honey," Steve mutters, albeit into your lips.

"Wanna do everything, Stevie," you say in response, grabbing his hands and placing them back on your swollen breasts. Steve groans into your jaw this time but is more successful in his attempt to pull away.

"Sweetheart, we should slow down."

"No, we shouldn't," you say, a bit more indignant this time. Realizing that Steve is no longer putting any of his body weight on you, you panic and do the first thing that comes to mind - you yank him down and then twist so that his back is against the mattress so you can clamber on top of him.

"Honey, what are you - ?"

"Steve. I need you to fuck me. And if you’re worried you’re gonna hurt me, just forget about it because I’ve been healed for months at this point and you know it.”

You know your eyes must be shining with unshed tears at this point so you do your best to blink them away, hoping they aren’t visible to Steve in the low light. But of course he notices. It’s Steve.

He immediately sits up so he can be face to face as you straddle him, his large hands coming to cup your face like you’re so delicate you’ll break.

“I just…the books said…you were in so much pain after the birth…”

Steve looks way more lost than you’ve ever seen him, his hair tousled from your hands and his eyes darting everywhere in discomfort before resting back on yours. You wait for him to continue but he doesn’t so you squeeze his biceps.

“Steve. You have to tell me these things that you’re worried about.”

“I know…” he tries to dismiss you, looking away. It makes you grab his chin.

“I thought you didn’t want me anymore,” you finally say plainly. Steve’s eyes stop looking for anywhere else to rest, instead flying to your face and blowing wide. He opens his mouth but you keep going. “I thought you weren’t attracted to me anymore. That you didn’t see me in that way…”

“Honey, stop,” Steve says, speaking forcefully for the first time all night. For the first time in months. “That’s crazy. You know that? You know you’re talking crazy, right? Like certifiably insane.”

“Steve…”

“How could you say that? Are you out of your mind?” His voice raises a bit as he gets more riled up. It makes you bite your lip.

“Don’t…don’t belittle…” you can feel the flood of emotion starting to surge to the surface, the dam much quicker to break these days since you gave birth. Steve grips you tighter, hand on the back of your neck to force you to look at him.

“I’m not belittling your fears. You are belittling my love for you if you think for one second that I’m not attracted to you anymore. That I don’t fall in love with you again every single time I lay eyes on you. That I don’t want you with every dumb molecule in my being. And I know I was shitty in science class but I know thats a lot of fucking molecules. You’re belittling my feelings if you don’t think I want to keep my hands on you every waking minute and that it kills me that that’s not possible. That I don’t get out of bed really early each morning and jerk off in the shower just because I had you in my arms all night.”

A wet chuckle comes out of you unbidden. The corner of Steve’s mouth quirks up but his brow remains furrowed.

“You have to tell me when you’re worried about things, honey,” he says quietly as he rests his forehead against yours.

“Isn’t that literally what I just said to you?” you scoff incredulously. Steve leans back and finally gives you a lopsided smile.

“Well not exactly. I’m sure I changed the words a little bit.”

“Steve Harrington, that is word for word—,”

You’re cut off when Steve closes the gap between you with a kiss. There’s not once ounce of protest left in you. You are starved for his affection. Greedy to consume and be consumed. You kiss him back with everything you have. It is heated and wet and hard and everything that you have been needing. You push and he gives. Allowing you to pressure him down so his back is once again against the bed.

You’re grinding against him now and it’s so good. A triumphant zing runs down your spine at the feeling of how thick and hard he is for you, reciprocating all of your feelings and reinforcing all of his words.

Steve Harrington wants you.

The father of your child and the love of your life.

Your Steve.

When Steve’s lips migrate down over the slope of your jaw to suck at your pulse, you moan loudly. The feeling of suction travels all the way through your body to the space between your legs and before you can do anything to counter it, you’re rocking back and forth against Steve in search of any friction possible.

“Steve. Please,” you practically sob out. He puts his hands on either side of your face but before he can say anything, you continue whimpering. “Please, Steve. Just give me something, anything—,”

“Shh, honey,” Steve says, kissing your heated face. “You don’t have to beg. I’m so sorry to have made you think you ever have to beg. For anything.”

The next series of events plays out in slow motion. Both because it’s the culmination of all of your hopes and wishes for the last few months and because Steve moves incrementally. Gently.

“We’re gonna take this slow, honey,” Steve says quietly as he rolls so that you’re the one on your back, your head propped up on pillows. He grabs one additional pillow and lifts your hips up so that they are elevated by the cushion.

“We don’t—,” you try to interrupt but Steve hushes you again, not unkindly.

“Baby, I’ll bend you over and fuck you so hard the neighbors call 911 again soon,” he chuckles and you cringe at the memory of one of the best nights of sex of your life. Steve takes a shuddering breath, looking down at you spread out for him. “But tonight…we’re gonna do this slow. For both of us.”

Big hands slide the hem of your babydoll nightgown up, revealing your naked pussy which immediately receives attention. Steve presses two fingers to your clit and begins to go in tried and true circular motions.

“I’m just saying. We could go faster…oh.” You’re cut off when one of Steve’s fingers slides all the way into you, causing your eyes to roll back. Steve chuckles and leans forward to kiss your exposed throat.

“Baby, I need to go slow. Don’t you get it?” he mutters into your skin. He moves his finger in and out of you slowly. “You’re acting like you’re the only one who hasn’t been fucked in months.”

The perspective has you preening, but before you can dig into that further, Steve presses the weight of his body on you and you’re a goner.

It’s all weight and skin and sweat and the skim of flesh on flesh and moans and warm breath.

You begin to forget where Steve ends and you begin. You both are one raw nerve ending, spurred on by gasps and rubs and moans. As someone whose patience had seemingly run out, you’re surprised to realize how easy it is to lose track of time with your lover so lost in you, and you in him. You don’t know how long it is that you revel in touch and pressure and heat before you feel him prodding at your entrance. Swollen and hot and and hard and needy and yours.

“Ready, baby?” Steve asks. He sounds far away, but you make sure to muster up eye contact so you can assure him as much as possible.

“Ready, Steve.”

He pushes in slow, and you’re pleased to confirm that you were right. You are ready for him. For this. There’s no discomfort. Just the inevitable sting of his size invading you in every way.

“Oh fuck,” you say quietly. Steve pulls out and then drives back in, more firm this time. You squeeze your eyes shut. “Oh fuck, fuck.”

“Get it all out, baby,” Steve says with a roguish grin. “Say whatever you need to tonight. Don’t want to be all foul mouthed with our daughter around.”

You know he’s joking but you roll your eyes.

“Well Eddie Munson called me a slut in front of our daughter the other day, so—,”

“He WHAT?!” Steve stops immediately, eyes wide. You laugh and grab at his ass, trying to force him to start moving again.

“It’s nothing. Just a joke. Come on, keep going!”

“You saying he called you a slut was a joke or him calling you a slut was the the joke?” Steve asks warily, but he does slowly begin thrusting back into you.

“The second one. I mean the first. I mean both - ah!” you gasp at the feeling of Steve nudging against a delicious spot inside you. Your nails dig deep into his arm. “Oh god.”

“Am I going to have to limit Eddie’s family privileges?” Steve jokes, knowing fully well that Eddie is yours just as much as Robin is his. You’re squinting up at him, brow furrowed. It’s adorable.

“Can you stop talking about Eddie Munson while you’re making me feel like this?” you ask.

“Hey, you’re the one who brought him up.”

You don’t dignify that with a response. Instead you surrender yourself to the pleasure melting through your bloodstream. Steve can see it on your face. It makes his ego swell in that way it always used to. A boyish grin splits his face and his hips pick up the pace.

“Making you feel like this, huh?” He quotes you. “Feels good?”

“Yeah. So good.”

“This what you wanted? Just wanted me to fuck you like old times?”

“If it was - oh god - like old times we’d both be drunk and fooling around in the bathroom at the - fuck - Hideout,” you try to say, though you’re interrupted by your own moans.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve says, leaning down and sucking on your throat again. There will definitely be marks, but you don’t have it in you to care or reprimand him. “I’m drunk on you right now.”

“Steve…,” you whisper. The name cracks in your throat when he snakes his hand down to play with your clit.

“Sounds like you’re drunk, too, baby - oh.”

The tone of his “oh” is different from his earlier teasing and you look down. Two wet spots have formed in the silk nightgown over your breasts.

“Shit. Shit,” you whine.

“Is that…”

“I’m lactating. I’m lactating during sex, Steve.” You have your hands slapped over your eyes to hide you away from the mortification of the moment.

“It’s ok. Hey. Hey! It’s okay.” Steve is chuckling, but his hands do their best to peel yours away from your eyes. Your crumpled face makes his heart hurt so he kisses your cheeks. “Baby, it’s okay. You were feeling good, right?”

“Yeah…but…”

“There’s no but. That’s all that matters,” Steve says definitively before dropping a more insistent kiss on your lips. His tongue delves into your mouth, his fingers winding in your hair. He’s trying to distract you. And it’s working, because soon your hips are rolling, trying to get him to start thrusting back into you again.

Steve finally pulls back, his hand gentle on your jaw.

“Do they hurt?” he asks quietly, glancing down at your breasts and back up.

“They’re a bit achey, yeah,” you admit. He leans down and presses a kiss to the valley between them. Your breath catches at the feeling. Steve hand comes up to cup one gingerly and you bite your lip. “Maybe don’t touch my nipples too much. Sensitive.”

“Of course, baby,” Steve agrees. He sits up higher, propping himself up with a hand by your head so that he’s leaning over you but has the leverage to pick up his thrusts again. Before long the feeling of him bottoming out inside you has you releasing a steady stream of moans. “Seems like you’re sensitive all over, huh?”

“Mmmmyeah,” you confirm, eyes shut tight against the pleasure.

Steve can feel your pussy start to clamp down on him. It’s his favorite feeling in the world - one his own fist could never hope to replicate. The apparent nearness of your orgasm spurs him on more than any aphrodisiac and he begins panting openly, his hips picking up speed.

“You’re close, I know you are, honey.”

You just nod furiously, practically beyond words as you grip his biceps for all you’re worth. Steve lets out a breathless chuckle.

“I know, me too, honey. You gotta cum for me, okay?”

“Steve…” you gasp out, peering up at him through lust hazed eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t…don’t make me go this long again,” you say weakly. “Please.”

Steve’s heart absolutely splinters at the way you say it. He drops himself even lower against you, his thrusts taking on a even harder, more intentional quality.

“I won’t. I promise,” Steve says hoarsely right into your ear, his lips mouthing at the lobe as he does so. “I’ll fuck you right, baby. You’ll see. You’ll never have to ask again.”

You spasm in his arms shortly after Steve makes that promise to you. He’s not far behind, especially not with the way you cry out his name like is both a prayer and and answer to one. He spills into your still quaking walls with a guttural groan that you do your best to swallow, somehow not satiated by the sex alone. You need to consume Steve’s being.

~*~

What comes after shouldn’t be your favorite part, but somehow it is. It’s the part where Steve holds you in his arms, sweaty and still shaking a little. Kisses pepper your temples and his breath fans over your face. After a while, a comedically timed stomach growl reminds you both that neither of you have eaten, so you finally stumble out to the kitchen, naked and draped over one another, to eat a meal.

It’s the part later in the evening where you try to suck Steve’s cock while watching tv, but he won’t let you because he won’t let the mother of his child bruise her knees (he’ll change his tune in a few weeks but it’s cute for now). Instead he drags you back to bed for the night and makes you cum on his tongue before fucking you once more and ensuring you have the heaviest sleep you’ve had in months.

It’s the part the next morning where you wake up with still a few hours to go before Eddie brings your daughter back from Joyce and Hopper’s. Where you wake up to your husband wrapped around you, his morning wood tucked between your thighs. This time you don’t hesitate in initiating yourself. Taking what you both want. Steve’s moans score your morning beautifully, while his cum paints the canvas of your belly and your face wears a self satisfied grin.

Your favorite part is having quiet cups of coffee in the kitchen. Holding hands as you wait for the toast to pop up. Reading the morning paper and handing Steve the comics section without having to be asked. Reaching a hand out to fluff his hair fondly when he reads out the most ridiculous panels.

Your favorite part is when Eddie brings your daughter back and you get to watch the light in Steve’s eyes magnify as he picks her up in his arms. He coos at her and she smiles and you sweat you ascend to heaven.

Eddie lingers in the doorway after Steve hoists the diaper bag and brings his precious cargo into the living room.

“So are you all…satisfied?” Eddie asks uncomfortably. You punch him in the shoulder but you’re unable to hide the massive smile on your face.

“Yes. Yes I am, thank you,” you reply, completely genuine. Eddie grins back at you, squeezing your hand.

“I’m happy for you, slut.”

You’re about to reply when you both freeze, surprised by a loud voice coming from the living room.

“EDWARD MUNSON, IF YOU CALL MY WIFE A SLUT ONE MORE TIME!”

~*~

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I hope you enjoyed! Please comment and reblog to let me know, thanks for reading!

[koshercosplay]

it's time for yet another year of chanukah ratings! that's right folks here are my Very Important Ratings of chanukah memorabilia (or, as I wrote last year with the pun of the century, menorabilia) for this year. Buckle up everyone for a wild ride!

none of these have anything to do with chanukah, but as we all know, chanukah IS the jewish holiday of all time which means it's time to bring out every single piece of even vaguely jewish-related merchandise! 5/10 the transliterations are incorrect

this is most likely a translation error but the thing is I still don't know what was supposed to be there. I want this pillow. I'm gonna start peppering this into my conversations. 7/10 many menorah!

oh no. no no no. why is there always at least one of these. I'm so tired. we have never wanted jewish santa. actually this looks like regular santa just stole those items from a jewish household. maybe santa IS christian after all! 1/10 santa has descended into a life of crime and thievery

it's very funny to me that to goyim chanukah is the live laugh love peace light and joy holiday because of the ~pretty lights~ when in reality it's about a rebellious uprising against our oppressors. AND latkes. 4/10 why is the t in latkes lowercase

no no you see the big floating magen dovid behind thomas jefferson isn't antisemitic, it's just a friendly reminder that jews control the banks! -102938473732/10 hey walmart what the fuck

I for one am ready to accept the hanukkah armadillo as part of the tribe. unfortunately the designers of this were cowards and didn't even give him a kippah or menorah. 6/10 free the menoradillo from bland christmas capitalism and give him a latke

this feels like an advertisement for "I Spy". the menorah isn't kosher. aladdin's lamp is there for some reason. is he jewish? good for him. mizrachi jewish icon. 5/10 scroll back up and read the hebrew

I saved the best for last purely because Tis The Season of the Boob Donuts. once you notice the Boob Donut you can't escape. that's not even how jelly donuts are filled and yet, here we are. 9/10 for boobs and no christmas imagery

[gomzwrites]

Task force 141 found out about your soft spots | Part 2

Summary: Ever since they saw the softer part of you, the task force 141 has been trying to see more of them. a/n: This is a follow-up from the previous part! It can be read separately but part 1 gives more context :)  Also! The dividers were made by @gomzdraws (which is also me lol) apologies if I took too long! I'll have to admit I got a bit carried away with part :>

Tags: incorrect military terms, fluff, can be read as platonic or romantic, horrible attempt at Scottish accent(I gave up near the end xD), mention of dog bites, x gn!reader

PLEASE DO NOT RESHARE MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS WITHOUT MY PERMISSION

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Captain John Price

The two of you returned to base after just recently completing the mission; the target was secured and handled, and you rested in the general area as you looked through your phone again, updating your to-do list as you had stumbled upon the photo of the cute latter art previously. You stop and lean on the counter as you smile. It's so freaking cute, you think to yourself before a nudge takes your attention.

"Come", was all the captain said before you quickly followed along without questions. You’re always eager to follow any instructions he gives; maybe he needed to discuss the upcoming mission. But it’s obvious it's not going to be that as you sit in his car. Where are we going?

You ask curiously as you fasten the seat belt. The Captain only gives you a smile as he presses the gas pedal. "Just getting something to eat", he replies as you nod and relax into the chair. Well, it's nearing evening, and you are, in fact, quite hungry, so a small bite before dinner doesn’t sound too bad. It wasn’t long before you finally reached your destination. It’s a quiet town that has a few stalls and shops, and you walk alongside the captain until you stop before a small cafe, tucked nicely at the end of the street.

You look through the window as you watch the few people and barista chilling inside. It looks warm and cosy; there were soft fairy lights lining the pale yellowish wall with brown pillars supporting the structure. The captain gently places his hand around your back as he guides you to enter the cafe. You follow along as you take in the fresh smell of coffee and pastries and the sight of the small place. Price let you wander around for a while before taking a seat near the stairs, and a waiter quickly came as he greeted him. 

"Ah John! It's been a while; I see you brought company." The older man then hands you both the menu as he chuckles and bumps the captain’s shoulder. Price nods back as he glances back at you and says, "Pick anything you want, it’s on me", You give him a surprised look before you nod and take a look. You smile as you look through the list on the menu; it has a lot of cute drinks and desserts, so he saw. You thought to yourself as you ordered a latte; it's apparently their best-selling drink with the 3D cat milk foam on top of the drink. The waiter nods as he looks at Price, to whom he orders tea and some apple strudels. The waiter takes down the order on his notepad before promptly returning to the counter and preparing the orders.

How did you find this place? You ask the captain as you take in the surroundings again; it's a hidden gem, that’s for sure, and the prices on the menu were not bad as well.

"I knew this place because Oliver, the man who took our order just now, used to go to the same college", you hum as a reply and nod.

It's a nice place, and I can’t wait to try the drink, you reply back with a smile as your eyes twinkle with excitement. The captain chuckles as he nods. 

"Well, I didn’t take you as someone who likes these kinds of things, but it's a pleasant surprise, don’t worry. So I figured I'd bring you here." 

He raised an eyebrow out of amusement as he watched you blush slightly. You huffed out a puff of air before you replied sheepishly, 

Ah well, I guess cute things are my weakness after all; who would’ve guessed? 

"Just don't let the enemy know, and you’ll be fine", the captain jokes back as your drink arrives, and you immediately close your mouth as you watch the foam wiggle around when it was placed gently on the table. 

Oh my god, you whisper to yourself as you gasp and take in the sight, quickly taking your phone out and taking a picture. You glance back at Price with sparkling eyes as you tilt your head, giving him a "are you seeing this?" look as he chuckles and nods. He can feel the joy radiating from your face as you go ahead and stare at the drink, and the way you carefully turn the cup around to see the whole thing? Precious.  

He watches you take a sip. You close your eyes and give a nod as you savour the taste. Not only was the drink cute, but the flavour was perfect as well. You can smell the coffee's aroma and see how smooth the drink is. You didn’t realise when you had a bit of foam below your nose as you smiled back at the captain. Price couldn't help but laugh slightly as he took a tissue and wiped off the foam from your face. "Guessing you like it then?", you nod as you place down the cup and cover your mouth slightly to hide the pink blush that’s creeping up to your cheek. 

Yeah, it's not too bitter, and it tastes pretty rich. I like it. You reply as you watch him hum and take his strudel and tea. 

"Good, we can come here again next time". He says this as he gives you a warm grin and a wink.

John Soap MacTavish 

It was another week of training with the two military dogs, specifically Max and Judy, two German Shepherds who have been quite fond of you as they follow the training. Over the course of the regimen, you are supposed to reinforce essential handling techniques and carry out a few conditioning exercises like generalised commands. You may not be a military dog handler, but the training has definitely improved your skills to be one. Soap has joined you on a few training sessions and watches on the side as you smoothly handle the dogs, carrying out the essential steps and watching as the dogs follow you obediently. He finds it inspiring to see you train with the professional dog handler, Sergeant Sam, who has been offering a lot of help and tips. 

Today, Sergeant Sam guides you through controlled aggression training for Max, something the dog has had some trouble with for the past few days. Max has shown a good level of precision when commanded to attack a target, but its restraint technique still needs more practice, as Max tends to move before you give your words. You coo and guide Max as you carry out the demonstration, pointing at the volunteer as Max growls. You hold onto the leash firmly when Max tries to run towards the target, and you speak with a steady, calm voice as you patiently coo at the dog. 

Alright Max, steady. Not yet. Stay. 

Your voice hushed Max as it reduced his growl and made him stand on the ground, no longer pulling on the leash, and wait for your next command.

Okay, good boy Max, you don't forget to praise it immediately. This is one of the many bits of advice given by Sergeant Sam, it is said to give the dog motivation and let it know it’s doing the right thing if you praise its action immediately. 

You finally gave the signal after a while, and Max immediately went to jump and bite on the protective coat the volunteer was wearing, growling and displaying its aggression as you guided the dog. Sergeant Sam and you continue to practise a few more times with Max to properly train him to improve his restraining skills. 

After a few hours, you were finally given a break as you sat on the floor, sweating as you gently rubbed Max’s head. 

There you are, good boy Max~ So proud of you!

 You whisper to Max as you feel something poke your back. You glance back and smile as you watch Judy (the other military dog) wagging its tail and giving your cheek a lick. 

Ah! Judy, did you miss me? Hey now, who’s a good boy~?

You immediately shower Judy with attention and pat its head as you glance up to watch Soap approaching you. You wave to him as he stands at a distance. You watch his nervousness show as he rubs his neck and taps his foot repeatedly on the ground. You then stand up and order Max and Judy to sit and remain still on the floor as you walk to Soap. 

Sergeant Soap, good to see you. You greeted him with a smile as he relaxed slightly and smiled back at you. 

"Aye, I saw da training todae; it seems yer gettin better at this!", he said as he nervously glanced back at Max and Judy before staring back at you again. You nodded appreciatively as you chuckled and spoke. 

Yeah, Max and Judy have been behaving well, and the training with them is running smoothly. They remind me of my own dog back home, you say fondly as you watch him glance back at you with a surprised grin. 

"Wut? You owned a German Shepherd? That’s perfect, then, actually", You watch as he shuffles around his pocket as he holds out a bag of snacks; it’s Milk-Bone dog biscuits! You smile widely as he hands you the snack. 

"Well, I wanted to give it to ya as a wae to say thanks since yer took the job for me; you seem close to dogs anyhow; I hope I bought the right thing". Soap says as he laughs and pats your shoulder, "What’s the name?", He asks before you take out your phone and proudly show him photos of your own German Shepherd. It's big, and it has a golden sable pattern that shines ever so slightly under the sun. 

Named it Meatball because he always managed to steal some from the kitchen. He is my little ball of sunshine, you explain with a soft giggle as you show him more pictures, swiping the gallery before stopping on one where you were carrying Meatball with a struggling look, face scrunched up with a frown with a grin, you chuckle as you look back at Soap, 

He’s almost 5 years old now and still jumps and expects me to carry him around like a baby, even when he's 60 pounds! 

Soap laughs along as he stares at the photo. You looked so happy and content, and he likes how cheerful and giddy you are when you start talking about your dog. He’s still scared of dogs, but he felt like with you, he might be able to overcome that fear a little as he listens to your stories. 

I'm sorry for babbling so much, by the way. You stop halfway when you realise you’ve been talking for the past 10 minutes about your own dog, but Soap quickly shakes his head as he rests his hand on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring look as he speaks,

"No, no, go on. I love hearing yer talk about Meatball. He’s really cute!", Soap says as he gives you a nudge. "might even visit the fella with how sweet he sounds". Your eyes beamed when he suggested that,

Really? I mean, I don't want to force you to meet him if you’re still uncomfortable and all

Soap nods again as he gives a chuckle. 

"Well, I think I'm still a bit nervous, but it's something I want to try again, ya know?", You nod in understanding before you think for a moment and give a reply as you glance back at the military dogs. 

How about you start by warming up to Judy? Max is a bit bigger and more intimidating, but Judy is smaller, and he’s more obedient. Do you want to try it? Soap sucks in a breath as he contemplates for a few minutes before finally sighing as he nods slowly. You smile as you rest your hand on his thigh to soothe his nerves. 

It's okay; you’re with me. It will be alright. You say gently as you call for Judy to come around. Soap watches as Judy slowly makes its way towards you and Soap, his legs shuffling a bit as his muscles tense up when Judy comes and sits in front of you.

Be good. Soap is going to touch you, okay? You coo at Judy as the dog gives a nod and rests its head on your knee. You glance back at Soap as you hold his hand and speak.

You’re going to be okay; Judy won't bite, I promise. Soap nods with a gulp as he lets you take his hand and guide it to Judy’s head. You watch as he retracts his hand a bit when Judy tilts its head to stare at Soap. 

"y-y/n…" Soap says nervously before you pause and rub his hand in small circles, 

It's alright; take it slow and don't worry. You speak patiently as you watch Soap nod and take a few deep breaths to calm himself down. You don’t move and continue holding his hand in the air, and wait to let him take the initiative to move, and not long after that, he starts running his finger along the head of Judy’s fur cautiously. Judy remains still as it closes its eyes and wags its tail slightly. You give a small chuckle as you whisper back to Soap,

You’re alright; look, Judy likes you. You say as Soap relaxes more as he watches in awe, smiling slightly when he watches the dog press its furry chin onto your knees and melt into his touches. It’s certainly a much different response to what he imagined, and the memories of dogs biting into his legs and arms still haunt him sometimes. He can feel those sharp teeth sinking into his skin and drawing blood in those nightmares, but now? This dog he's touching is peacefully laying on your knee, not moving an inch as he strokes his fur softly with his palm, it's unnerving to him still, like he still expects the dog to bite him if he lets down his guard. But slowly, he gets more comfortable when he sees no signs of that happening, he also knows that if you're here with him, he'll be alright.

Soap glanced back at you as he held his gaze. "Thank you...", he said with a tone full of appreciation as you smiled back at him and nodded. 

No worries, I'm happy you’re able to come this far, you say back with a soft tone as the both of you just continue like this, chatting idly back and forth as Soap slowly strokes Judy’s fur. By the end of the conversation, Judy was resting its head on Soap’s tight, and Soap was no longer trembling as he rests his hand on its head.

Kyle Gaz Garrick

Ever since Gaz dropped off the bear in your room, you’ve been trying to reach out to him. But many times that has not happened because of the busy schedules, and it also doesn’t help that you’re not often teamed up with him. 

However, when you do see him, you make sure to give him a nod and an appreciative stare as he returns the same. You’ll admit you were not as close to Gaz when compared to Ghost, but ever since the IKEA trip, both of you have been trying to change that, even if it’s just a bit. Sometimes he brews you a cup of tea in the morning; other times you’ll secretly take on his paperwork when you notice those tired eye bags in the morning. 

But you wanted to return the favour with more than just these small gestures. You’ve thought about a lot of options; the first thing was perhaps to buy him a game of sorts. You heard from Soap before that Gaz is a gamer himself and owns a Switch. The problem is that you’re not aware of what kind of games he’s into, and asking those questions will raise suspicions. You have a rough idea that he might like action role-playing and multiplayer games like Elden Ring and World of Warcraft; sometimes you know Soap and Gaz will play Mario Kart because of how loud their laughter can be in their room. But you don’t like guessing and would rather get him something you’re absolutely sure he will like. The other thing you wanted to get him was perhaps a hat or a scarf, seeing as he likes wearing those. But you learned that he is very attached to his scarf, so buying him a new one didn’t seem right to you. As for the hat, you actually found a blue beanie that might look good on him, but you decided to save it for his birthday. After many sleepless nights of trying to figure out what on earth to give him, the opportunity finally presented itself one day. You just finished a mission with the team, and as the crew made their way back to base, you noticed how Gaz’s gloves were damaged; the thumb side was burned off, most likely due to the explosion previously. Gaz took notice of your gaze and gave you a smile.

"It's alright; the rest of it is still fine I can live with it." 

You give a nod as he turns around and speaks to Soap again, back to their usual banter as Gaz elbows Soap for not warning him when the bomb goes off. You secretly thank Soap for his recklessness because now you know exactly what to get him.

You tip-toed around the base during the late hours, being quiet and stepping cautiously on the floorboard to avoid generating any noise. You rest your hand along the wall as you walk before finally reaching the door. You glance around once and finally bend down to put down the little green box with a cute yellow ribbon. You smile softly to yourself as you stand up, only to yelp slightly when Gaz taps on your shoulder from the back. 

"Hey, erm, what are you sneaking around for?-", he stops as you quickly glance back as you nervously stand before the gift, shuffling it behind your feet as you shake your head. Gaz watches your demeanour before he smiles as he looks down, noticing a small gift box. "I didn’t know it was my birthday today", he jokes with that charming smile of his, chuckling softly as he tilts his hand and leans closer.

"You don’t have to be so shy around me. Come on", He bends down to pick up the box as he opens the door. You were about to leave before he stops as he looks at you, motioning to enter his room. You gulp as you nod and follow along, deciding to sit on his bed beside him. You have never entered any member’s room at this point, and you’re surprised at how cosy his room is. A few blankets here and there; he even has a few plushies himself! You get distracted by his place without realising he has already pulled off the ribbon and taken out the gift. You turn around and face him when he lets out a gasp.

"YOU DID NOT-"

Gaz said excitedly as he held a pair of Moto gloves, navy in colour with a dash of blue camouflage, lined with hard leather that protects the knuckles. You watch as his eyes shine and he smiles so big that you can see his prominent canine teeth protruding, silently satisfied with yourself when he thanks you for the gift.

I've been wanting to return the favour since you got me the bear.

You say softly as he nods and tests out the glove. It’s a perfect fit as he feels the texture and size.

"This is amazing! I love it. Thank you so much", He thanks you again as he gives your head a pat. Both of you decided to stay for a while and chat idly after that.

Simon Ghost Riley

You were awake the entire night, blinking and shuffling around your bed as you sighed deeply. 

Another sleepless night 

You thought to yourself as you pressed a pillow to your own face. You usually have trouble sleeping sometimes—more than you would like to admit. Whether it's because of the stress that lingers after missions or because of nightmares, They plague your nights without mercy. 

You groan and sit up as you stare at the clock. 

It's about 5 a.m. already, and I still can’t sleep. 

You grumble to yourself as you stand and stretch, pissed that you can’t even enjoy a day off without getting a good night's sleep. You decided to run some laps around the field to tyre yourself out and nap afterwards. 

And you did just that, running around the field for the past half an hour already, yet somehow you can feel that you’re more awake than usual. You know you’re physically tired, but your mental state refuses to calm down and screams at you. You sat on the ground hopelessly before lying on it, staring up at the sky as you let out a long, defeated sigh as you let out a few more grumble.

"Good morning, y/n" comes a voice as you glance to your left, recognising it as you divert your gaze from his shoe to his mask.

Good morning, Lieutenant Ghost, You reply back as you sit up and frown, slightly embarrassed that he saw you like this. 

"Grabbing coffee for them, coming along?" He asks as he shakes the car key in his left hand, his other resting in the pocket of his black hoodie. You nod as you stand up by yourself and brush away the dust as both of you head to the jeep.

You’ve done this routine before with Ghost, sometimes doing it yourself. The group likes to take turns buying coffee and breakfast every weekend near the base; even the barista and workers have already recognised you guys at this point. 

"Ah, it's you, 3 black coffees and 2 Earl Greys as per usual, yes?" Ghost nods to the shorter barista as she promptly prepares the drinks. You stood beside Ghost as you glanced around when you waited for the order before catching your sight on the fridge that displayed pastries and other small bites. 

swiss roll!! 

You take notice of the delicacy as you step closer to the glass. They rarely have cakes, at least whenever you come to visit anyway; mostly they display croissants or sandwiches, and you have to admit that the swiss roll they sell looks pretty good and tempting. 

Matcha, strawberry, vanilla, and chocolate

You take a close look at all the options as you stare excitedly. Ghost watches as he stands closer and bumps your shoulder. 

"Chocolate is good."

He whispers into your ears as you blush slightly at the sudden closeness and glance back at him. You nod as you stare back at that specific swiss roll. It even has what you assume is chocolate whipped cream with a small cherry on top. You whisper back softly as you grab his sleeve timidly. 

Can I try the cake with you?

You know you can finish this cake yourself, but you wanted to share it with him since he suggested it in the first place. 

Ghost blinks before nodding as he pats your hand, ordering the chocolate swiss roll as you smile and happily take a seat in the corner of the cafe. You watch as he brings the plate and sets it on the table. He hands you a fork as he watches you poke through the cake and take a bite.

!!! 

Your eyes beam as your face lights up when you have a taste; the soft, spongy chocolate cake is perfect, and paired with the chocolate whipped cream? It tasted like heaven. Ghost chuckles as he watches you take another bite. 

"Told ya"

You nod as you glance back at him with a giddy smile. You were right. You say as you take a much bigger part of the cake and hand the fork to him, and he nods as he pulls his balaclava to eat the cake, making sure he watches you from the corner of his eyes as he eats it. He likes seeing you take in the sight of him shamelessly, even if it's just his jaw and lips. He liked how you always stare and trail along the faint scar he has around the chin; it's as if you’re mapping him out and memorising his features. He gives a hum of approval as he finishes the bite and hands you back the fork, urging you to take more as you shake your head. 

"It's okay, kid, I’ve tried this cake before already. Eat."

He says this as you frown slightly and nod along, then enjoy the cake again as your brows slowly relax. He smiles as he continues to watch you eat; he knows that you’re always eager and tend to be more compassionate than the other members, even if you don't show it. Gestures like how you always save a seat for him in the planes beside Soap, or how you silently wipe and clean Soap’s guns after missions, or how you always helped Gaz with reports, and you always brew a cup of coffee for Captain when he needs it, your actions doesn't go unnoticed by him. 

Do you have a sweet tooth? 

The question caught him off guard as he watch your eye. He took a few moments to ground himself before nodding. He watched the glint of amusement in your eyes as you smiled and leaned in to ask another question. 

Then what’s your favourite dessert? 

He smiles at your question as he leans in and rests his arm on the table as he stares back at you. 

"Chocolate, if that wasn’t obvious enough already."

You chuckle as you shake your head and slightly poke his muscular arm. 

Yeah, I have an idea, obviously, but you know, like, what kind? Like chocolate bars? Cocoa drinks? Chocolate brownies? You know what I mean, you list out the example as you bite on the fork. 

He chuckles as he goes on and answers back, then you shoot another question and the process repeats. They may be small and mundane questions, but moments like this make him feel human again, to remind him that he is not just a war machine in this world, that he too has cravings and such, plus it also feels like you get to know him better, and perhaps this friendship can flourish more.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= a/n: am I biased towards Gaz? yes, yes I am(and yeah the gloves are from CSGO lol), like and reposts are appreciated! Have a good day/night! <3

[justauthoring]

Shoko Just Can't be Right [2]

a series of snapshots of your life with geto and gojo -> this part: what if shoko's convinced and maybe she's just right?

a/n: finally wrote the second part.... hehe.

pairing: satosugu x f!reader, shoko x f!reader

read the other parts here: one - two - three

-

"There is no way."

"Uh, yes, there is."

Sending Shoko a blank look, you scoff.

But, as per her style, she doesn't relent.

"Y/N," she deadpans, reaching across the desk to take your hands in her own, squeezing them enough to pull your gaze on her's once again. "I say this with complete and utter confidence, they're in love with you."

"Shoko," you call back, mimicking her tone; "they're in love with each other."

"True," she offers with a light shrug. "But also you."

Your mind blanks with the utter disbelief and ridiculousness of it all. "Is that even... possible? I mean, to be in love with two people at once?"

You didn't think so.

"Probably," she shrugs, "I mean with love anything's possible, right?"

And you can tell with the shit-eating grin on her face, she's finding this all too funny. Honestly, if you were on her side of things, you'd probably get a kick out of the whole thing as well but alas, you weren't and it wasn't easy to ignore the crushing of your heart as the hope you're desperately trying to hold back tries to sliver it's way past.

Ugh. Hope. What an entirely stupid and ridiculous--

"They do say that."

Back straightening, every muscle in your body tightens at the sound of Gojo's voice. It was, honestly, the last person you wanted to hear right that second; by default just because it was, well, him, but also because with Gojo, Geto was usually trailing behind...

A glance over your shoulder tells you you're correct.

Just as you thought.

You catch Shoko perking up out of the corner of your eye, and instantly a sense of dread floods you; this cannot be good.

"What are you two talking about?" Geto asks, coming to a stop next to Gojo, hands shoved leasurely into his pocket, brow raised with curiosity.

"Well—"

"Nothing!" You cut in sharply before Shoko can finish, sending her a glare over your shoulder (to which she rolls her eyes), pushing yourself to your feet. "Actually, we should be going because we—"

"Awehhh!" A loud whine cuts you off, eyes flickering over to Gojo whose slumped over dramatically; "but I was hoping you'd wanna hang with us."

Hang with them?

Alone?

That sounds like both a blessing and absolute nightmare. Especially with the thoughts that Shoko has invested in your mind—you could barely look at them now without thinking about her words; they're in love with you. God, why did she have to go around telling you that?

Making you think—for even just a second—that that could ever be true.

Because it wasn't. Obviously.

Geto and Gojo loved each other. That was true. Yes, that had been true since the very first moment you'd laid eyes on the both of them. The last to join them in their first year. The two of them, including Shoko, had already gotten aquainted with one another (some more than others). The three of them had spent four whole months with just them and no one else and had been able to bond.

And then you came in.

Clueless about the jujutsu world and about what a jujutsu sorcerer even was. Your whole world had been turned upside down and you were far outside of your element.

And yet, despite all that, you'd walked into that classroom that day and amongst Gojo's rather cocky greeting, Geto's simple one and Shoko's enthusiastic one (she'd expressed her fondness quite plainly for no longer being the only girl), you'd seen how much Geto and Gojo loved each other.

They were pretty obvious about it, even if at the time neither of them had known about the other's feelings.

So, yes, Shoko couldn't be right. She knew she wasn't saying it all to be mean, she wasn't like that—clearly she'd seen or heard something that had lead her to this incorrect assumption.

Because that's all it was.

An assumption.

One you wouldn't let yourself be swayed by for one second.

"Y/N?"

Blinking, you're pulled from your thoughts with a snap, focusing in on Geto who's leaning down to meet your gaze, concerned, with a baffled Gojo slightly behind him, the both of them looking at you rather intensely.

And, when you turn your head to the right, Shoko's gone.

"Are you okay?"

"Where..." Your words trail, in disbelief.

"Oh," Geto mumbles, pulling back as he realizes where you're looking. "She left for a smoke, said that she didn't mind rescheduling your plans. I do believe she added to the end of it, 'anything to get Gojo to shut up'."

"Hey!"

That sneaky little—

You turn to face both boys, quite honestly dumbstruck.

But then Gojo is shoving his face in yours, grinning; "so? Let's go!"

You sputter; "wh-where?"

-

To a sweets cafe. That's where.

Gojo all but drags you there, ignoring your protest to at least let you change, simply calling over his shoulder that; 'you look adorable!' which absolutely was not true. You hadn't worn your uniform that day since it wasn't a school day, and you and Shoko had had plans to spend the day together campus which had lead you to wear a simple skirt with an oversized sweater over it. You weren't expecting to leave or go out or least of all be going out with both Geto and Gojo or else you would've probably dolled yourself up at least a little.

Which, yes, Gojo's words, albeit simple, did leave you even more flustered, cheeks flushed and stuttering for a response all whilst Geto chuckled lightly behind you, clearly amused to himself.

But both Geto and Gojo are dominating of your time and don't allow you even a second of an escape, chatting your ears off happily whilst Gojo goes to the counter to order an array of sweet, leaving you and Geto to find a table.

You have to admit that the cafe is quite cute and the sweets you'd managed to grab for yourself (with the help of Geto, who promptly slapped Gojo's hand away when he tried to steal one of them) were delicious. Geto had gone back to the counter to order you a drink and although you weren't always used to be with either of them alone, the two of them were chatty enough that you didn't feel awkward or tense with silence.

It wasn't that you didn't get along with them. You did. Despite your rocky first impression of Gojo, you got along with the both of the extremely well.

But that was at school. In class. Or, at the very least, with Shoko. You weren't used to having to fend off the both of them and although you cared for them both greatly, they were both intimidating in different ways.

In ways you weren't.

Shoko always said you were too quiet. Too easy. You said yes to anything someone asked you of and you didn't often argue even if it wasn't something you weren't comfortable with. It had taken Shoko months before you properly opened up to her, but Geto and Gojo were confident and skilled and people seemed to bend over backwards for them just because, well, they were them.

People treated them differently than they treated you because you were quiet where they were loud, nervous where they were confident, and soft where they were hard.

(Little did you know that Geto and Gojo absolutely adored this about you—despite how incredibly self-conscious you were about it yourself).

Still, the day goes on well. And you find yourself rather enjoying their company.

You've all been there for just over an hour when you excuse yourself to the washroom, slipping past Geto in a way that has your cheeks burning red and flustered as you make your way to the ladies room.

It's on your way back that things take a bit of a downward shift.

A firm hand wraps itself around your upper arm, halting you in your tracks and pulling a surprised gasp from your lips as your world is tilted on it's axis briefly.

Then, suddenly, there's a group of boys surrounding you.

"Hey," one of them smiles at you, though it's all cold and no warmth. "Do you go to school around here? Don't think we've seen you before."

"And I think we'd remember a face like yours." Another one pipes up, your head shifting to the right to find him towering over you.

The one on your left steps closer, smirking down at you. "Noticed it as soon as you walked in here," he grins, wide and menacing. His eyes drift across you, low in a way that makes your chest tighten uncomfortably, then back up to your eyes. "You new?"

They're too close.

"N-No," you force out, shaking your head as you try to push them away. "Sorry, my-my friends are—"

"Yeah, those two guys, right?"

A hand falls on your back, and you tense.

"We could show you a far better time, you know?"

"Yeah," a laugh, "why settle for them, when—"

Another hand falls on you. But it's different. Warmer. Familiar.

You're pulled away and tucked against a chest, glancing up to see Geto's familiar figure looming behind you, his gaze threatening but it instantly softens as he glances down at you.

Gojo steps in front of you, blocking you from their view.

"I do believe you're making Y/N uncomfortable," Gojo grounds out and his voice is so unlike anything you've ever heard. It's dark, cruel, all trace of his usual goofiness and teasing gone.

You can't see his face, but if it's anything like Geto's, you're sure the face matches his tone.

"I would fuck off now." Geto growls from behind you, low enough you feel his chest rumble in reaction. "Before we make you."

You don't see it. Geto doesn't let you. But none of the three boys even get a word out before they're scampering off with paled skin and pleading cries of mercy, racing out of the cafe and not sparing another glance back.

What—

Gojo spins to face you and he's grinning, wide and bright, stepping towards you. "Sorry about that darling," he calls out, ruffling your hair. "We got worried when you took a while to come back."

"Should've called for us," Geto mumbles, squeezing your shoulder in a soft, reassuring sort of way. "Let us know you were in trouble."

Gojo's hand falls on your cheek, cupping it, face suddenly serious but not in the same menacing way as before but concerned. "We'll always come when you're in trouble."

Geto nods; "so, don't feel afraid to rely on us."

They're in love with you.

Shoko's word taunt you in the back of your mind, completely stunned by Geto and Gojo as they move to walk, neither of them letting go of you, Geto's hand on your back and Gojo's hand wrapped around yours, leading out of the cafe.

They're close. They still close. Refusing to slip away.

I mean with love anything's possible, right?

Shoko just couldn't be right. She just couldn't...

Could she?

[sytoran]

𝐒𝐘𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐍'𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

howdy, thanks for dropping by :)

✦ this blog is intended for sapphics, men dni

✦ what i write: sub!marvel women x dom!reader

✦ most works contain smut. 18+ only. blank/ageless blogs who interact will be blocked

✦ hate anons/asks that make me uncomfortable will be blocked

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

#sytoran speaks - for when i answer inbox asks, or post rambles.

#sytoran's fic recs - for other writers' fanfics i reblog.

#sytoran's incorrect quotes - for my unfunny marvel quotes.

read this tutorial if you want to read my fics with 'mature' community labels! | my AO3

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𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒

4k followers celebration

the christmas chronicles

kinktober 2023 masterlist

2k followers celebration

valentines' special 2023

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐗𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐅𝐅

SERIES:

pretty in pink

Adopting a hybrid bunny girl becomes one of the best decisions you've ever made in your life. Despite the blurred lines that form in your relationship, you wouldn't trade anything in the world for your sweet angel that is Wanda Maximoff.

the excellence of misfortune

Moving into Westview to escape the demons that chase you, there you meet Wanda Maximoff, a married woman who's looking for the same kind of escapism. Where one seeks order and the other seeks thrill, maybe you can show each other a little neighbourly support, and perhaps, find the excellence of misfortune.

ONESHOTS:

spooky scary skeletons the one where you're ghostface and wanda maximoff is your next victim.

nsfw alphabet your sex life with your girlfriend, told through snapshots of the alphabet.

the pirate and the mermaid in the midst of a voyage, a notorious pirate stumbles upon a pretty little mermaid.

arabella as a writer, your love for wanda transcends the boundaries of words.

medicine after a particularly taxing work day, there's no better stress relief than your cute little bunny sleeping half-naked in your bed.

doctor's orders barbie!wanda hasn’t got a clue about how her newly-human body works. thankfully, you happen to be the best gynecologist in town.

babysitter duty | pt.2 the mom of the kids you babysit is extremely hot.

kick a ball, score a hot mom wanda's sons have soccer practice, while she spends some time with their young and ridiculously good-looking coach in the equipment closet.

extra credit the one where professor maximoff promises you extra credit if you make her squirt, and you're a fast learner.

taunt the several times wanda scrunches her nose at you.

god, you're insatiable a formal work party gone wrong when wanda's co-workers get a little too close to you.

giddyup in which you wake up to your girlfriend riding on your abs.

boudoir photography the finals assignment where your top student submits her nudes.

heat waves omegaverse - the one where an omega wanda in heat goes to the bar to find some relief, and meets the alpha bartender.

study break in which straight A student wanda maximoff studies with the school's jock and jerk, you.

rockin' around the christmas tree in which "rockin'" is a euphemism for sex.

'tis the season to be horny making gingerbread houses with your horny girlfriend.

last christmas | pt.2 the one where you reunite with your toxic ex on christmas.

i'm (c)reaming of a white christmas when they said 'white christmas', you thought it meant being covered in snow, certainly not...... this.

all i want for christmas is you (to fuck me] the only thing on wanda's wishlist is you.

slow hands | pt.2 college au where you had always thought wanda was out of your league, until that night at tony stark's party.

DRABBLES:

babygirl wanda

more babygirl wanda

babygirl model wanda

𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐀 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐅𝐅

SERIES:

home is where the heart is

In which your married life with Natasha Romanoff is depicted through this comedy-drama series. With your dream job, three kids, and a plethora of friends, each day is blissful but all the more chaotic and unpredictable. (And ultimately, very horny.)

my divine goddess

After saving a mystical cat from a deathly experience, you're hauled into the world of Gods and Goddesses with one wish to get whatever it is you desire. Turns out, all you crave is the Goddess of Lust, Natasha Romanoff. Steamy entanglements turn into love-filled confessions, but the two of you were star-crossed from the very start.

ONESHOTS:

mile high club on a plane ride to dubai for a romantic getaway, natasha takes matters into her own hands, and your cock into her own mouth. (oops?)

arsonist's lullabye natasha gets more attached than expected after a one-night-stand with the college's infamous player.

mechanic jacks and jacked mechanics natasha's car breaks down in the dead of the night, and an unbelievably sexy mechanic shows up to fix her right up.

let me fuck your tits? your wife thinks you've been acting a little off lately, but it comes down to the 'hard' truth that you just wanna fuck her tits.

i wanna be yours despite your countless pleads for natasha to stay away during the full moon, she decides to brave the beast... and gets a lot more than what she bargained for.

widow's web natasha's mission to retrieve a thumbdrive file by seducing a high-ranking executive goes a little too smoothly, and she doesn't notice you're not all you seem to be.

break the rules when visiting the strip club downtown with your co-workers, you catch the eye of none other than the 'black widow'.

obsession, possesion! your roomate's an innocent little thing, the prettiest girl on campus, whose boobs you're a little too obsessed with.

office hours | pt.2 natasha romanoff is your new secretary, and she's ready to help you with your every need.

DRABBLES:

natasha plays a prank

━━ 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐎𝐔𝐒 fics

ONESHOTS:

if god forbid (Peggy Carter x Gn!Reader) you're eating your wife out under her office desk as she speaks to - or at least, attempts to speak to - her military soldiers.

the super soldier theory (Wandanat x Amab!Reader) being a supersoldier had its perks, like getting to fuck the black widow and scarlet witch on a mission.

DRABBLES:

subby!agatha

possesive wandanat

© 𝐒𝐘𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐍 2024 ━ do not copy, edit or translate my works

[andmaybegayer]

For a different project I was reading about developments in induction heating technologies and realized I had a small misunderstanding about how induction stoves work.

So, the classic misunderstanding is in why steel works on an induction hob but aluminium doesn't. Most people assume this is because you need a magnetic material in order to induce a current, but if you know your physics you know this isn't true. You can induce a current in any conductor, and indeed inducing currents in aluminium is something that happens in industry all the time.

So then you get to my understanding of why you can't use aluminium and copper, which is that they're too good at conducting electricity. Induction generates a voltage that pushes a current through the material. Aluminium and copper are much better conductors than steel, so the generated potential is lower and the overall current is lower as a result of material interactions with the field, so you don't get nearly as much heat out of induction on aluminium as on steel. This was what I thought. This is also wrong, although it's closer.

The actual answer is one step deeper. Induction hobs have to operate at pretty high frequencies, usually 24-ish kHz, both for audible noise reasons and, crucially, because they rely heavily on the skin effect. Interestingly this makes that first wrong explanation kind of more correct, I'll get to that in a moment.

The skin effect is a thing that happens when you have an alternating current in a bulk material; the AC signal sets up magnetic fields that force current to flow in a thin layer closer to the surface of the solid rather than flowing evenly throughout the material. This increases the effective resistance of the material, since you end up with a reduced effective surface area through which current can flow. The skin effect gets more pronounced at higher frequencies, and it's part of why you'll see bundles of smaller cables used to conduct high power AC: each cable has its own skin that can carry more current than the same quantity of material in one bulk cable.

In the right kinds of steel and iron, 24kHz is enough to generate a current carrying skin only a few tenths of a millimeter thick, which has a high enough resistance to generate the heat needed for cooking. Ferromagnetic materials have very high magnetic permeability, which causes them to experience much stronger skin effects. Copper and aluminium, between their high conductivity and lower magnetic permeability, have much weaker skin effects, their skins at 24kHz are much thicker, and so you just can't kick up enough resistance to the current to generate heat, it just spins around in there getting kind of warm but you'd have a hard time actually cooking with it. Indeed, non-magnetic stainless steel also won't work on induction hobs, because it also has a much thicker skin effect.

So you have the "real answer" being a fun hybrid of the two incorrect explanations.

The main side effects I take away from this are twofold.

1) you can absolutely make an induction hob that will heat copper and aluminum and non-magnetic stainless steels, you just need a high enough frequency to generate a strong enough skin effect to generate heat. Panasonic makes one that uses 60+kHz induction under the brand "Met-all".

2) if you physically constrain the current by having a really thin piece of metal, you can induction heat it anyway. When I read this, I stopped, took out a piece of aluminium foil, and stuck it on my induction cooktop. It almost immediately got incredibly hot and I pulled it away before anything bad happened. Turns out you could definitely melt and maybe even vaporize aluminium this way. So don't do that. Apparently people do this with lightweight titanium cookware too, which would not be able to sustain the necessary currents in a large bulk solid but can if you thin the base of the pan out enough.

[the-faceless-bride]

In need of 'Correction'...

Summary -> You were working for the other side, and while trying to plant bugs to gather information you end up getting caught, and while you thought you would end up dead... It somehow leads to something else... It seems the ones who caught you deem you in need of correction... A sweet doe-eyed thing like you wouldn't have done something like this on your own, you've clearly been manipulated... Don't worry, they'll help you.

⚠️warnings: porn w/ little to no plot, Non-con/Dub-con, forced orgasms, squirting, double penetration, anal (reader receiving), manipulation, mind break (?), yandere behavior (if you squint), ooc task force 141, I tried my best to keep reader GN! Read is called Pretty and has a vigina, reader is smaller than tf 141, readers codename is "Bandit", smut, slapping, being held against will, forced kissing, forced touching, forced oral (giving and receiving), interrogation, threats, dark content, violence against reader, might make a part 2 if you really like it, let me know if I missed anything!!!⚠️

Characters include: John Price, Johnny Soap, Simon Ghost, Kyle Gaz, Alejandro

A/n: I'm not the best at writing in Spanish, correct me if I write something wrong or incorrect, also I've been gone for a while so I'm a little rusty, please forgive me if it's shitty, ESPECIALLY the smut. If you have any tips I appreciate it, likes and reblogs are welcome!

You woke up with a throbbing in your head, your vision slightly blurred and your skin felt gross with the amount of dried blood that had been caked onto your face under your mask. You looked around, you were tied to a wooden chair and pushed into a small table, a single bright light illuminating the small room. an investigation room?.where were you? You don't remember much but you do remember being sent to plant bugs where the information is sent and getting information on some files...

You held onto the rafters crawling across as quickly and quietly as you could. Trying to reach the vents to crawl through and get right into the main office, you needed to plant a few bugs to get important information about some files and documents.

When you got into the vents you crawled around for a while trying to remember the layout you saw on the map. But you stopped when you heard voices. "-not sure, but whoever they are, they're smart. We gotta find them. They could be useful." another voice. "Maybe they can be persuaded to join our side? Money?" another voice. "tsk- shouldn't give money to a waste of air. How the hell sells out for money?! A disgrace if you ask me." they were talking about you. they wanted to get you on their side? Why? What for? Information? Skill? Or- oh shit.

The vent creaked.

All hell broke loose. Everyone in that room from what you heard got up and scattered to block off your only exits. You had to move fast.

You thought for a moment and chose to take the long way. You kicked open the grate beneath you and drop to the floor below. You ran out of the room. Taking turns. Trying to remember the way out.

Left.

Right.

Right.

Left.

Right.

Then your luck ran out and you slammed into someone's chest. You might know all their names, but you would be an idiot to not know him.

Ghost.

Then after a moment, he held you tightly the mask over your face becoming suffocating. And your vision began to blur.

He let you go and your head hit the wall, and you finally blacked out.

You didn't have more time to think before the door slammed open and a group of men walked through. They were all eyeing you. A dark hunger in their eyes.

One takes a step forward. You assume he is Captain Price. You try not to flinch as he rips the mask from your head. You still flinched. Some parts of your hair stick to your face. You fight the urge to try and wipe it off. Not wanting to risk taking your eyes off of the group of men that stood in front of you.

"hm-" a man huffed looking at you "When I pictured you, I didn't think you'd be so... Pretty?" a man with a Scottish accent thought out loud, the man next to him chuckled. "Soap, Gaz. Please. Keep it in your pants... For now." Ghost sighed.

Soap. And Gaz. That was their names...

You looked back to Price, he pouts in mock sympathy. Before pulling over a chai and sitting across from you.

"what's your name." he wasn't asking. He was giving you a command. His voice was deep and dripped with authority. In other circumstances, you would've felt flustered. But at this moment you were just scared. You weren't an idiot. These men were all bigger than you. You were a good fighter. But you knew if you tried to fight you would lose. And you didn't want to die here.

You looked up, making eye contact with Price. "I... I'm Bandit." you tried to hold eye contact but it was difficult. It felt like he was looking into the depths of your soul. You looked at your feet. Only to jump when his hand slammed on the table.

A faint, "aw" could be heard. You felt pathetic. "well. Bandit. You don't seem cut out for this kind of work. Too soft. Too jumpy. I don't wanna have to hurt that pretty face. So why don't you just tell me what you know? Confirm who you work for, and why you are on their side. And I might think about letting you go without a scare on you."

You look from him to the men behind him, back to your feet. You couldn't tell them anything. Even if they let you go after this you'll be tracked down. From where you sit. Both end in death. You didn't know these men well. But you knew the men you worked with. They were cruel, and unforgiving, and would skin you alive and leave you for the rats to pick at. You chose to take your chances with these men.

"oh? No longer interested in talking? Fine. But you asked for it. Alejandro. If you wouldn't mind?" Price stood from his chair. And the man Alejandro walked towards you. Your heart rate picked up.

You didn't get a moment to think as a hard smack was sent to the side of your face, fuck did it hurt. You tried to hold in the tears as a whimper escaped you. Blow after blow to your ribs, cheek, legs, and hands. All dealt with the same amount of unforgiving force. Ten minutes in you were a whimpering tear-stained mess. Small gasps of "stop." and "please." you were never cut out for this pain. You had always stayed in the shadows away from the fire. Now you curse yourself for not training your body and pain tolerance.

The strikes stopped and the man named Gaz took a step forward, his hand coming up to your face and you flinch away. He coos at you. Mocking you.

"you poor thing. You just want this to stop." you lightly nod your head as he takes a rag that he dipped in a bucket of freezing water - was that bucket always there? - he softly runs the rag over your face cleaning you of the blood and sweat. Using a hand to move hair from your face. The softness makes you mean into his touch. No longer wanting the painful touch.

"If you want this to stop, all you have to do is tell us what you know. What they know and why. Okay?" your lip trembles, "I can't." you whisper. "It was just meant to be a quick cash grab. I needed to help pay off a debt and this money was meant to help. If I tell you I either end up dead or tracked down and beaten to death later." Gaz looks into your eyes for a moment before they shift to the other men. They all seem to nod their heads, having a secret conversation with themselves. "we can protect you. As long as you work for us instead."

"b-but I don't know anything important about the people who hired me. I-" he and the rest of the men let out low chuckles, "no, we don't mean that kind of work. Just, allow us to show you how you've been wrong and do some... Physical work for us."

"physical work? But I'm not as strong as you guys and I don't have that much pain tolerance when it comes to this stuff and-" you were cut off, "don't worry, you'll get more of a tolerance and you being weaker is just how we like it." you were so focused on trying to put the pieces together to notice the rest of the men closing in on you, "I can see in your pretty eyes that your confused, allow as to make it nice and easy for you to understand."

The ropes around your hands and legs were snapped and you were lifted onto the table. Soap and Alejandro held down your legs, as Ghost and Price help your arms, Gaz worked on unbuckling your belt. After a moment of shock, the pieces finally fell into their place.

You began to struggle. "wait! I- you can't! Let go! Let me go!" Alejandro laughs at your cries, "More vocal now, aren't you pequeña? Just enjoy it. It's better than the pain before isn't it?"

Your pants are now around your knees, you wish you could close your legs or cover them but you can't. "don't worry love, I'll be nice. I'll prepare you a little." Gaz smiles at you as he lowers his head. Pressing a kiss to your clit before taking a long and slow lick up your cunt. "no please!" you struggle to keep yourself composed.

He kisses and sucks lightly on your clit, coaxing more sweet slick to drip from you. You don't wanna like it. You've never felt such pleasure in this way before. You didn't have sex a lot with your job but when you did it was rushed and didn't focus solely on you. But at this moment that was the only thing happening.

You felt him push a finger in, searching for that sweet spot that would make you cry out. And after a moment a gasp from you told Gaz that he had found it. He then pushed in another finger, both pushing against that spongy spot within you, sucking your clit at the same time. Your back arches. Stop it! You don't want this. You don't want to like this. This was wrong. Gross. So why did your body respond so willingly to him?

"she's fighting it." Ghost groans out. Clearly enjoying your sounds of struggle and strangled whimpers.

"awe, com'on hen. Let go. Enjoy it."

You gasp as you feel the knot start to tighten more and more. Don't. Don't you dare. If you do they'll win! You can't! Don't!-

You gasp. you feel a gush of liquid as the knot pulls tight and snaps. You look up, your vision around you blurring as you look into the one light above you. After a beat, you look down between your legs. Gaz's lips, chin, and even his nose were covered in your slick. You felt your face go warm with embarrassment, you had never done that before.

"oh fuck yeah-" Soap groans out and the others make a sound of agreement, all of them now all over you. Your body feels numb and you don't know if you have it in you to struggle. Soap kissed his way up to your chest playing with your chest, Alejandro kissed and left marks on your hips, Price and Ghost kissed your neck and collarbone.

You heard the sound of a belt buckle before feeling something warm, soft, and round rubbing against your entrance. You whimper knowing what's coming.

"oh lovie don't whine like that, you'll almost make me feel bad." Gaz teased slowly pushing in with a soft sigh as you clench around him. He leans over careful of the others and kisses you. The kiss is sickeningly sweet and soft. The soft whine he makes also does no favors in helping you keep your composer.

Soap pulls away with a light, "fuck it" as he makes his way over to the other side undoing his belt, "Hen, mind given me a hand?" you don't really get to respond as he takes your hand and wraps it around his cock, using your hand as a fucktoy the precum oozing and making your hand slick and sticky. "oh, yeah hen~ such a good little pet~" he sighs Alejandro soon joining his making you use both hands, both men grinning as they chase their pleasure.

Gaz thrusts a few times testing to see if you've relaxed a bit more so he could slide in and out easier. Once he was satisfied he pulled away making a motion towards the other men, they all move to the side. Soap and Alejandro stroking their girths, Price and Ghost finally undoing their belts.

You were now laid onto of Gaz as he pushed himself back into your dripping pussy, Soap and Alejandro taking your hands to stroke their cocks again, Price and Ghost finally picking their spots.

Ghost pushes his angry red tip against your plush lips, his eyes giving you a warning to dare and disobey the Silent order. And Price made his way behind you with Gaz, he wasn't as kind as Gaz was he simply spreads your ass apart before spitting and letting his tip do the work of spreading the makeshift lube.

You lick your lips nervously as you slowly open your mouth for the man looming over you. He wastes no time pushing his way into your mouth and thrusting his hips making sure to touch the back of your throat each time. And Price simply pushed in, no warning, no stretch, the burn was painful. It made you whine and sputter around Ghost who was starting up an unforgiving rhythm that would surely leave your throat raw.

The mix of Pain from Price, the pleasure from Gaz and his perfectly arched cock hitting the most sensitive part inside of you, and the lack of oxygen due to Ghost's unforgiving thrusts and the dirty words in your ears from Alejandro and Soap was overwhelming. But fuck was it good.

All these feelings, the fear inside of you, the lust. You just couldn't take it anymore. Fighting would be useless at this point.

You start pumping Soap and Alejandro faster, they both let out a surprised sigh but quickly allow themselves to be taken care of.

"that's it hen, be a good little toy for us~ fuck your so hot hen~"

"Sí, así como así mi amor. Esa es una buena chica, sigue acariciándome así."

Ghost groans with a smirk, you can't see it behind his mask but if you could you'd melt.

"That's it dear, focus on sucking that cock. You like taking my cock, don't you? You'll swallow it all right baby?"

Gaz and Price fucking into you.

"Fucking Slut, you like taking cock huh? you like the way I fuck you? Fuck your tight, never taking it in the ass before huh? Well, you're gonna have to get used to it my little slut."

"Fuck lovie, you're so good for us. You'll be good, right? You'll stay and be our little cock slut? You'll play nice right? Can't wait for the others to see you like this. Such a perfect little pet for us~"

You whimper and moan, Fuck you're gonna cum again. And from the sounds around you, so are they.

In a few moments, Soap lets out a sweet moan and paints the left side of your face white with his cum. The sight made Alejandro groan, you looked so pretty, covering the right side of your face with His cum too. They pull away admiring their work.

Ghost's hips pick up in spread before he slams down holding your head in place, your nose against the ash-blonde happy trail. Cum flowed down your throat, swallowing all you could. He pulls back as you cough and suck in as much air as you could.

Your hands shoot down to hold onto Gaz's shoulders, your moans now free for all to hear. You moan as you feel yourself squirt again all over Gaz's thighs, a moment later feeling both men fill you with their cum. Price was the first to pull out with a low chuckle.

"so what do you say Lovie? Wanna stay with us? I promise we'll give you lots of orgasms~"

Part 2 ->

[spnhunter4life]

Not So Bad

Summary: Bad information on a hunt leads to a tense situation that ends in confessed feelings.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: none

Masterlist

I sighed as I flipped through the pages of the dusty old book I’d picked up out of a mix of nerves and boredom. The Winchester boys and I were in New York of all places. I hated it here. The constant loud noise of the bustling city, the air that was so far from the fresh country air I’d grown used to at the bunker, and, worst of all, the tall buildings that blocked out the sky mixing with the thick crowds of people made me feel severely claustrophobic. 

But there was a monster here that needed to be killed, and the Winchesters always went where they were needed. And wherever they went, I went. So here I was, sitting in the library while the brothers went off to kill the thing. It was some sort of demi god named Daemon. 

I’d never been much of one for fighting. I preferred to be the designated researcher, helping out in a mental capacity instead of physical. Both brothers insisted I at least learn basic self defense and worked with me on occasion, wanting me to be able to defend myself if the worst were to happen, but they never pushed me to come face down monsters with them.

The book I was currently looking through was one of the three I’d been able to find in this library about Daemon. I’d already found the information I was looking for and reported it to the Winchesters. But now my options were to sit here and wait for the hunt to be over so the boys could come pick me up, or make my way back to the motel on my own, and I was perfectly comfortable where I was. Or at least, comfortable enough that it wasn’t worth braving the crowded streets.

I turned another page, skimming the words quickly, barely absorbing what I was reading. Somewhere in the back of my mind I made the distant realization that I was in a library and could go find a more interesting book to pass the time. I didn’t give the idea much thought, knowing that it would be difficult to lose myself in a book when my boys were in danger. I knew how long they’d been living this life and how capable they were, but that didn’t make it any less scary anytime they took off. I knew every time could be the last, and I didn’t take that for granted. 

I was about to close the book and at least find something to occupy myself that wasn’t a detailed explanation of the very thing the boys were facing down, when the sentence I’d just read actually registered in my mind. With a sharp inhale, my eyes darted back to the beginning of the paragraph.

It is a common misconception that Daemon is susceptible to oak stakes dipped in lamb’s blood – a rumor no doubt started by the mischievous deity himself – which is actually quite harmless to him. What most do not know is that Daemon is not a demigod at all, but the offspring of a demon and a faerie. As such, his one and only weakness is a silver blade dipped in holy water.

The blood drained from my face. I’d given the boys the wrong information and now they were off to face an angry demigod – or faerie demon hybrid, apparently – with weapons that may as well have been toothpicks for all the use they would be. 

How could I have been stupid enough to not double check the information? I should know better than that!

I didn’t have time to wonder if maybe this bit of information was the incorrect one. Something in my gut told me it was right, and even if it wasn’t, I couldn’t risk letting them go to their deaths, thinking they had the upper hand. I pulled my phone out and immediately dialed Sam’s number. It rang a few times before going to voicemail. Cursing quietly to myself, I tried Dean instead. Voicemail again.

Fear for my boys overrode everything else. They were all I had left in the world and I absolutely could not lose them. I couldn’t live without my sweet, steady Sam. He was an invaluable source of knowledge on all topics imaginable and he had a calm, comforting disposition that seemed to instantly ease everyone in his vicinity. His sense of humor may not have been as pronounced as Dean’s, but I appreciated it just the same and wondered what would happen if I never got to hear his laugh or see his smile again. 

And Dean. I couldn’t even let myself think what all I would be losing if he was gone. To an outsider, our relationship looked perfectly polite and comfortable. And it was, I suppose – we always got along well and never had a bad word to say to each other – if not a little strained. Although, that may have been just on my end. He never did seem to feel the tension that I did. I couldn’t blame him for not noticing either. After all, I did everything I could to keep him from knowing just how much I cared for him. Just how much I loved him.

Without stopping to think about it, I quickly exited the library and rushed out into the crowded streets I so despised. I ran in the direction of Daemon’s lair – we had known its location since early in the investigation and had only been working on the details of how to kill him – roughly shoving through crowds of people when necessary. 

I was severely winded by the time I reached the abandoned building that Daemon resided in. I was panting in short breaths that seemed to fill my lungs with fire. I didn’t have time to stop though. I spotted the Impala parked in the alley and fumbled a key out of my pocket. I threw the trunk open, grabbed a silver knife and poured a generous helping of holy water over it. I barely remembered to slam the trunk shut before rushing inside. 

I slowed down once I was inside. The building was large and I had no idea where any of the current occupants might be. I was just peeking around an open door, knife held at the ready, when a huge crash followed by a yell of pain sounded off to my right. My heart stopped. That was Dean. 

Please let him be ok. Please let him be ok. And Sam too. Let them both be ok, I pleaded to any god who would listen.

I crept as quickly and quietly towards the sound of distress as I could, sounds of a fight leading me there. Fear like I’d never felt before ran like ice through my veins, but kept me moving forward. I rounded a corner and felt my heart stop again before picking up a racing rhythm at what I saw. Sam was sprawled on the ground. He’s only unconscious, I told myself. The alternative was unacceptable. Across the room was Dean, pinned to a wall by Daemon, straining to break the hybrid’s grip and thrust his oak stake into its side. Daemon clearly had the upper hand and wrenched the stake away from him, throwing it behind him. I barely stopped myself from calling out Dean’s name. 

“You think you can kill me? A puny man, kill a god?” Daemon spat, the rage clear in his voice. 

I charged towards them, knife raised and ready. I was only a few steps away when Dean saw me over Daemon’s shoulder. His eyes widened in surprise before he could stop the involuntary reaction. I saw him immediately look away again, not wanting to give me away, but it was too late. Daemon had seen it. He whirled around to face me and knocked me aside without a thought. It was as easy as if he’d been swatting at an irritating fly. Dean yelled my name just as I collided with the wall. My breath, which I hadn’t even quite gotten back after my long sprint here, left me in a whoosh. 

I watched in fascination and horror as Dean took advantage of the momentary distraction to rush at Daemon. He kicked his legs out from under him before climbing on top of him, pinning him to the ground. They struggled for a few seconds before Dean was able to snatch the oak stake from where it had been discarded on the ground. 

“No, Dean! The knife!” I yelled to him. I had dropped it at some point between Daemon’s blow and hitting the wall. Dean didn’t question me, didn’t hesitate before dropping the useless weapon and searching for the knife. But it was out of his reach and it was clear he wouldn’t be able to hold Daemon down much longer. I started to struggle to my feet to grab it for him, but before I was able to, a large body ran into my line of sight, blocking my view of Dean, and stooping to pick up the knife. 

I tensed, terrified that there was some unknown second thing to deal with now, but soon realized it was only Sam. He picked up the knife and turned to his brother. Without speaking a word to each other, Dean rolled out of the way just as Sam plunged the knife down into the heart of the monster. 

Dean was red faced and breathing hard – and who could blame him after wrestling with a being with supernatural strength – but otherwise seemed alright, so I turned my attention to Sam who was closer and who I worried could have any number of injuries after being knocked unconscious. 

“Sam, are you-”

“What the hell were you thinking?” Dean demanded. Stunned at the hardness of his voice, I turned to look at him and realized that what I’d mistaken for exertion was actually anger. He was livid. I’d never seen him so angry, at least not with me. Why was he angry? This completely unexpected reaction left me feeling small and confused.

“What?” I asked. “What do you mean? I was just trying-” 

“You could have gotten yourself killed!” He yelled. He took a step in my direction and a grimace crossed his face as his leg seemed to struggle slightly under his weight. He grunted, the only sound he would let escape. I remembered his yell, the noise that had guided me in this direction to begin with. He was hurt. Dean, who sat stoically with teeth gritted, never letting more than a grunt escape while Sam dug bullets out of him or sewed up horrible gashes, had cried out in pain. That had scared me more than anything else tonight, the idea of how badly he must be hurt to not be able to hide it.

“Dean,” Sam started in a warning tone. He might have been about to defend me or to tell Dean to cool his temper so we could talk calmly, but I would never know. Anger flared up in me, completely overriding the confusion and uncertainty Dean’s words had caused. 

“Well you nearly were killed! So I guess it’s a good thing I’m here, isn’t it?” I shouted back. I wasn’t actually angry, I knew, just reliving the terror of the last half hour mixed with the relief of seeing them both ok and the worry at their injuries. In short, I was overwhelmed and Dean yelling at me had frayed my already shot nerves. 

“We would have been fine.” Dean deflected.

“No you wouldn’t have! When I got here Sam was on the ground, dead for all I knew, and you were hardly about to win in a battle of strength. And even if you had, your weapon was useless. You would have died!”

“You’re the one who decided you didn’t want to fight! And that’s fine, you know we’re ok with that. But you can’t just not train and then run into a fight with no idea what you’re doing!”

“Guys, maybe we should-” Sam tried again.

“No!” I yelled. I saw a look of surprised hurt in his eyes. I felt bad for snapping at him when he hadn’t done anything wrong, but I was too fired up to backtrack now. “If Dean hasn’t had enough of a fight tonight, then let’s fight! I may not be trained in hand to hand and weapons the way you are, but I assure you, I can yell at you all night long.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed and I saw the muscle jump in his jaw. 

“Sam, can you give us a minute?” He asked in a forced calm tone. 

Sam hesitated, looking back and forth between the two of us before agreeing. “Alright. But you’ve got ten minutes before I’m coming back in after you to make sure you’re not strangling each other,” he warned before leaving the room.

We glared at each other for a minute, neither of us speaking. After what felt simultaneously like an eternity and only a moment, Dean started talking again in that tone that was an attempt at being calm, but I could clearly hear the tenseness and anger underneath.

“You can’t just-”

“You said that already,” I interrupted immediately. His jaw ticked again, and I knew shouting at him when he was trying to deescalate the situation was not appreciated. He tried again in that same infuriating tone, a little more strained this time.

“Sam and I hardly need you jumping in to protect us. We know what we’re doing.”

“That’s not the point!”

“Then what is?” He yelled back, patience worn thin.

“It doesn’t matter if you know what you’re doing or not because you couldn’t have won! I was doing some more reading after you guys left and I realized I gave you the wrong weapon.”

“Then you call us! You don’t come running in after us!”

“I did call you! Neither of you picked up! I couldn’t just sit there and wait for you to die!”

“Of course you could have! Don’t you think we’d rather take our chances with bad weapons than to have you in the line of fire?”

“What would you have done Dean?” I screamed at him. “If it were you sitting around knowing that I was going after a monster with a weapon that wouldn’t kill it? What would you have done?” I felt confident this would be the end of it. After all, there was no doubt in my mind what he would have done, and he couldn’t possibly deny it.

“That’s not the same thing,” he said. He was still angry, but he said this in a quieter voice, the kind of quiet that meant I’d truly struck a nerve. 

“Why?” I asked, ready to swoop in with the metaphorical killing blow and win the argument. “Because I can’t fight, so of course I’d need you to come save me?”

“No.”

“Hypothetically saying I was as well trained as you then. Or that it was Sam. The point still stands. You would have done exactly what I did. You wouldn’t just sit back and let us die, so why would I?”

“I told you, that’s not what I meant,” he snapped. “How do you think we would feel if something happened to you? What if we couldn’t protect you and you got hurt?”

“How do you think I felt, Dean?” I stomped over to him, getting right in his face, letting him see how much I meant what I was saying. “I didn’t know if you would be alive or not when I got here.” I stopped for a breath, the intensity of the emotions I’d felt in that moment hitting me once again. “Don’t tell me I don’t understand what it would feel like. I know exactly what it feels like.”

“It’s not the same,” he said again, stubbornly.

“How is it not the same? If anything, it’s worse for me. You and Sam at least have each other. If I lose you guys, I have no one. I will not lose you. Do you understand me? If that means putting my own life on the line, I’m ok with that.” 

“I’m not!”

“Well that’s just too bad, isn’t it, because it’s my life, not yours!”

“You’re not understanding me! If you would just let me explain-”

But apparently I wouldn’t. I wasn’t doing it on purpose, but I just needed him to understand what I was saying. So I cut him off in the middle of his request that I not do so.

“No, I told you that I understand perfectly. It’s you who isn’t understanding! I’ve never been more scared in my whole life than I was when I heard you yelling in pain.” In the back of my mind, I registered that Dean’s expression had turned from anger to determination. But my brain didn’t seem to fully process this fact, not that I would have known what to do with that information even if I had. My emotions were driving me now, and there was no stopping the words pouring from my mouth.

“I thought that whatever happened, it must be really bad. And maybe I was too late to save you. And it’s my own stupid fault you needed saving in the first place. How could I-”

This time, Dean cut me off. It was only fair, after all I’d done the same to him. This was a much nicer, much more pleasant, much more unexpected way of interrupting though. He leaned down, crashing his lips against mine. As my body seemed to be running on instinct and adrenaline right now, I responded immediately, wrapping my arms around his neck, meeting his demanding kiss with enthusiasm. 

I ran one of my hands through his hair, enjoying the feel of the soft strands between my fingers. My other hand ran down over his shoulder, to his bicep, then over to his chest, loving the strength I could feel in all those hard earned muscles. His hands were wandering too, in my hair one second, traveling over my back the next, and then on my waist.

My brain, which seemed to have shut down for the past few moments – minutes? – decided to start working again, practically screaming at me that this was Dean I was kissing. Dean, apparently experiencing the same returning brain function as me, pulled away. He took a careful step back, creating some space between us. That was probably good. I couldn’t think with him so close. Not after that. His cheeks were flushed red for a whole new reason now and his hair was sticking up in an annoyingly attractive way. I could see by the surprise in his eyes that he hadn’t been planning on the kiss being that intense. 

“It’s not the same,” he repeated, his voice as calm as if we were having a normal conversation on any old day. As if we hadn’t been arguing minutes before. As if he hadn’t just given me the most mind numbing, spine tingling kiss of my life. “Because I love you. And I know that that probably wasn’t the best way to go about telling you, but I need you to understand what it would mean to me to lose you. If you lost me, you’d lose a friend. It would suck, but you would move on. But you’re more than that to me, and I don’t know how I could survive losing you.”

“Have you not paid attention to a thing I said?” I asked him, taking a step forward to eliminate the space he’d put between us. “I told you, if I lost you and Sam I would have nothing.”

“Yeah, but that’s not really true. You could make more friends easily enough.”

“But you’re not just my friends. Sam is my best friend, true, but I love him like he’s my brother. Losing him would hurt me just as bad as losing an actual brother. And you… I couldn’t move on from you any easier than you could move on from me. I love you too.”

“Yeah,” Dean winced. “Like a brother. I know.”

“Not like a brother,” I said, wrinkling my nose a little. “Do you really think I would kiss you like that, or at all for that matter, if that’s how I thought of you?”

“I would hope not,” he agreed. 

“So, basically, you’ve been yelling at me this whole time about not understanding you when, in reality, I understand perfectly, just like I said from the beginning.” I couldn’t help but gloat a little at being right.

The corner of Dean’s mouth twitched slightly in a repressed smile. 

“You know, I think you owe me for scaring me nearly to death earlier,” he said happily.

“I owe you?” 

“Yes. When you came running in here I swear my heart stopped. And then I had to watch you get thrown across the room…” He winced at the memory and I could tell how upset it made him, but he quickly shook it off and kept up his cheerful tone. “I think you took at least three years off my life. Lucky for you I’ll take payment in kisses. One for every year less I’ll live thanks to you.”

Part of me wanted to argue, but the other part was too giddy to even care. 

“Alright,” I agreed easily. I stretched up onto my tiptoes and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his mouth. I wanted to continue the intense kiss from earlier, but there would be time for that later. This seemed like the appropriate response to his gentle, teasing tone. “There’s one.”

I kissed him again, and then once more, feeling like I could burst with joy the whole time. 

“There,” I said after the third kiss. “Does that make us even?”

“For now,” he smiled. “I have a feeling I’ll be finding lots of excuses for more in the future.”

“How’s this for an excuse? I think you took at least five years off my life. I’ll be needing some compensation here as well.”

He grinned. “And I fully intend to pay up. Once we’re home though. I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to get out of here.”

I was a little disappointed to have to be done kissing him. But I knew he was right. We should get out of here. I knew he was in pain, and I still didn’t know how Sam was doing. Besides, it was only a temporary stop. Once we were home I would have as much time with him as I wanted.

Home. Just the mention of it made me long for it even more. But even though I couldn’t wait to be back, even though I’d spent the whole time here waiting for the moment we could leave, the past few minutes with Dean had made the whole thing worth it. 

Maybe New York wasn’t so bad after all.

Tags: @123passwort @buckybarnes-1917 @chicken-nuggs-and-cozy-hugs @globetrotter28

[notbecauseofvictories]

Just wanted to say you kinda opened my eyes with your post about public transit a month ago. I am deathly afraid of public transportation. I guess seeing all the news and videos of horrible things happening on buses and subways made me ignorant of the fact that it’s just people. It’s just people. And that’s awesome. I’m gonna go ride a bus and thank the driver

I would never claim that nothing terrible happens on the bus---I've read those news stories too, to deny that it's possible would be flatly incorrect. Even in just my personal experience, there are dismissive, rude or belligerent people everywhere. People smell...different, especially when everyone is sweating through their winter coat, and unfortunately we can't convince certain members of the human race to buy some damn headphones. Still, I've been living in Chicago since 2010 and have never owned a car; I take a lot of buses and ride in a lot of taxis, I've biked from River North to Edgewater, taken the El from O'Hare down to Woodlawn, and ridden the Metra to the surburbs, to other states.

And I love public transit. I write about how much I love it with an almost unwell frequency---how it's a vehicle for grace, how the people who work there can be delightful, that it brings you into contact with people you wouldn't ordinarily meet. I still think about this article from Chicago magazine, where CTA workers were interviewed to talk about the highs, lows, and general insanity of the job. To recount every person I've had an unexpected conversation with, or shared a meaningful glance, or just admired from a distance as they gave up their seat, would take more time than any of us have.

Ultimately, everyone has to make their way through the world. When you realize that that's all people are really doing on the bus---or the train, or the subway, or the streetcar, or whatever other public transit is available to you---the idea of sitting alongside them doesn't seem so monumental. Everyone there just wants to get where they're going, and maybe arrive a little better than when they left.